Posted on February 3, 2010 by louloupink
Last night was our last Lamaze class. It was more like a combo class: four classes of telling us what might go wrong in the birthing process, one class on how to breast feed, and last night was the class on how your baby will die if you do not follow ALL of their recommendations. Steve had a homework assignment this week to crawl around on the floor looking for hazards. He said he did it. But I do not recall him doing it, because had he, I would have been fully aware because of all of the little dust bunnies and dog hair on our floor that would have sent Steve into an allergy attack from hell. My mom is to the rescue as soon as we get all of the other crap in our house in order, she is going to come over and clean in her super sparkly, super anal, clean like I have never been able to clean before way.
That reminds me to tell you that our house is under construction. Good timing, I know. We had my uncle build a walk in/built in closet in our bedroom since Matilda’s room was my walk in closet before, and now he has completely gutted the upstairs bathroom and is going to make it nice and shiny and wonderful for Matilda.
Back to Lamaze, otherwise known as “how you can keep your baby from dying class”. There was a lot of potentially hazardous things to cover in the three hour class. I had a whole list in my head when I got home, but now can’t seem to remember any of them. All I know is that I have to completely change everything in the house. Otherwise Matilda is going to set the house on fire, fall in the toilet, fall down the steps, barge through large pieces of glass, hit her head on hard things, smother herself in soft things, die if she gets a fever, die if she gets a diaper rash. We need to worry about which side of the car the car seat (which I researched diligently and am now worried is not good enough) will go on. It should go on driver side because we have a tendency as humans to dodge away from oncoming objects/cars, but my husband is probably too tall to have a car seat behind the driver’s seat, so she will have to be unsafe on the passenger side. Not to mention my own patience and how I am going to lose it, which I don’t doubt. Must set baby down and call someone immediately if I feel like I am going to lose it. I think the biggest issue, and I am serious about this is where are we going to keep the dog water bowl. Babies can drown in just an inch of water, so how are my dogs going to be hydrated. Maybe I will get the a large gerbil feeder. But, then Matilda might poke her eye out on it.
Anyway, you get the picture. I could go on and on.
So, yeah, this was our last Lamaze class. The end of a six week period that I thought at the beginning of would be a milestone in this 40 week gestational cycle.
The end of an era.
Yesterday was the day of the ‘end of eras’. As some of you may know, I have been riding with a woman named PJ over in East St. Louis for the past year, filming for a documentary that we are making about our rescue work. I committed to making this film about a year ago. Very shortly into filming, I found out I was pregnant. The first three months consisted of me woozy and needing to vomit every morning due to all of the pot holes on the run down streets of East St. Louis. Second trimester was great. I was able to still help rescue, film and generally could keep up with PJ. Third trimester has been a little trying. I had to have an assistant come with to help in all of the precarious situations we are put in. It is very hard to deny a puppy who needs to be rescued. But, a lady in her third trimester really has no business doing some of the things I was doing. And now, 5 weeks before I am due, I have finally passed the cameras onto someone else. I am going to miss it. I am going to miss riding with PJ, knowing about each of the 40+ dogs we feed everyday, advocating to rescue the ones who need it. I am going to miss the adventure and thrill of rescuing random dogs that we have never seen before, but know we have to pull immediately because they will not make it another day on the streets. Every morning, on my way to meet PJ, I would say to Matilda, “You ready to go rescue some dogs!” I think it will be fun to tell her of all of my adventures while I was carrying her. She has been quite the trooper.
Showers have begun. Every weekend is full of baby related stuff, whether it is getting the house ready or going to a party someone is throwing for her. In the rush of it all I am trying to keep a clear brain about it. Trying to keep focus on what an amazing and sweet experience this journey is going to be. I want to document every step of the way. The end of eras and the beginning of new ones. I want to create, to document with creation and show Matilda through my art the emotional journey that this has been for me. The piece below is the Ultrasound Art (a.k.a. Fetus Art) I spoke about in an earlier post. It was a gift to Steve for Christmas. Making these types of things along the way is what keeps me sane. It gives me something to focus on rather than the unexpected paranoia that has come with this journey. I am so excited. I can’t wait to meet her.
To new journeys in life, creating new experiences and allowing the present and past to transform itself into what we want it to be. I am looking forward to it all.
Posted on January 13, 2010 by louloupink
We have decided to have a hospital birth because we are a couple of weenies and at the beginning of this insane process thought that it would be safer. After reading so many birthing stories and attending our 3rd Lamaze class, we are second guessing ourselves. I don’t want any intervention if I can help it. I don’t even want an I.V. in my arm. I want to be free to move around, get in a tub. Not to mention the fact that I don’t want anyone to have open access to my insides, allowing them to inject whatever medication they feel will get them out of there faster while I am in a state of intense pain or panic. Hopefully not panic, but you never know, right?
Steve and I both walked out of the class at half time and said, “Let’s just go get a birthing pool and have Matilda at home.” That sounds so nice and relaxing. I know some people go into the hospital and feel safe and well cared for, but I am going to be a nervous wreck, thinking that everything the peeps at the hospital ask me has ulterior motives. It makes my blood pressure rise just thinking about it.
Intervention scares me more than the pain of natural childbirth.
I hate needles. They make me woozy, even if they are in a cartoon animation.
Speaking of animations, we saw one last night of a cesarean. Ooga Booga. I know that most of my friends who have had one say that it is no biggie. And honestly, I was fine when they cartoonly sliced through the skin and muscle. And when they cartoonly sliced through the uterus. But, when they pried it all open with big metal salad tongs, the cartoon didn’t seem so cartoony anymore and I about rolled off of my chair. No biggie though, I am sure.
And cesareans only happen with one out of every three births at the hospital that we are having Matilda. Sometimes higher, but who’s counting? And the odds are really with us with those numbers, right?
But that’s only if the vacuum cleaner that they attach to her head to suck her out doesn’t work. No wait, one more thing they can try: salad tongs up your va-jay-jay, clamped to your sweet, little baby’s soft little head. Don’t worry, it only causes paralysis in some babies.
I do understand that we are going to a hospital that performs a lot of difficult, high risk births, but most of the moms that I know who ended up in these precarious (ahem understatement) situations were not high risk. No, they were given pitocin to speed that little baby up. I mean really, come on baby, what’s taking so long? Get it together and get your shit out here.
Oh shit! Now my contractions hurt to all high hell and I can’t even handle this shit anymore. Will someone please, please stick me in the back with a super long needle and then insert a tube into my back that injects medication that makes me unable to walk and not feel my legs or anything in or around my va-jay-jay? Did I mention that I now have a hole in my back that is shooting medicine into myself and my baby?
Woozy again just talking about it.
So yeah, I have a bit of a fear of hospital births. I am sure that it is not as bad as I am foreseeing it. I am sure that it will all go fine and I will be relaxed and that the nurses will do everything that my husband, myself and our doula tell them to do. That is why I am bringing in the troops. If anyone tries to touch me with any bullshit that I have not approved, Steve will get them from behind and the doula will take them from the front. Down. If anyone asks me the same question more than once like, “Would you like us to induce?” I am going to go ballistic on their asses and then they are gonna try to tie me down like they did in the olden days.
Anyway, Steve and I really want a natural birth. We are so afraid that we are jeopardizing the chances of having one by doing this in a hospital. But again, we are afraid of the consequences of a home birth that could go awry, not to mention the fact that home births are illegal in Missouri. Gotta love the midwest.
Maybe I need you internet people. Maybe I need you to tell me about your births. Even if you planned for an epidural and wanted all of the drugs, maybe your stories will calm me into feeling like this can go smoothly without the pressure from outside sources to just “get ‘er dun.”
Getterdun.
***Clarification*** This post reflects my insane fears and concerns for myself during labor and delivery. All of what I wrote is what is in my ahead about the fears that I have of my own pregnancy experience. I was also flabbergasted at the lackadaisical approach of presenting all of this intervention to us in my lamaze class. It is in no way a reflection on anyone’s experience during their own delivery. I truly believe that anything that happens during labor and delivery, so long as the mom wanted it, is what needed to happen for herself and her baby to get through the process in a manner that was safe and right for them. I don’t want anyone to ever think that I am judging decisions they have made. I, for my first birthing experience need the safety of the hospital and am too scared to have a home birth. I also truly love to hear everyone’s birthing experiences. Whether they are insane or went totally smooth, drugs, no drugs, home, hospital. I feel like people mostly write about their scary experiences and my brain is lacking positive birthing stories.
Posted on January 9, 2010 by louloupink
I read this really great blog post today about trying not to let the negative things that happened in the past affect your present. The post really could not have come on a better day for me. Or shall I say could not have come at a more convenient time when I was feeling pretty crappy about some of the decisions I had made within the last day.
I have not talked much about the animal rescue work I do for a few reasons. First, it tends to take over. When I start to write about it, it becomes addictive and I forget about the rest of my life, so instead I started to write a book about my adventures in pet rescue. I also wanted to make myself more vulnerable by sharing more than just rescue with you through this blog.
Anyway, I just had a really shitty day in the rescue arena. One of the dogs we rescued last week got away from her new foster. I feel like it was my fault because I should have advised the woman better on how to transport this sweet dog. I should have been more thorough in the foster interview process. I should have done a lot of things that I did not do.
We put so much time, love, effort, life into caring for and rescuing and thinking about these dogs that when one does not go well it is heartbreaking. Unfortunately, this particular dog just had surgery, was treated for heartworm and is out in the cold in an unknown area on the two coldest nights of the year. She is feral, so there is really no chance of us finding her again. I cannot shake the fact that had I made better decisions, this dog could be safe and in a warm home.
These types of incidents make me want to stop doing rescue, they make me want to eradicate the heartache that rescue work sometimes brings. I keep telling myself that I need to stop pondering on the negative. There is only so much I can control and if I let the negatives affect all of the positive that can be done in the future, well things just won’t get done that way.
I suppose the only way things can change and the world can be a better place is for people to stop looking over their shoulders at the decisions that they regret, not hole yourself up in a box ignoring the things that may bring you heartache, but allowing yourself to work through them and move on to continue to do the work that really does bring more joy than heartache. Not to mention that it is not heartache for the thousands of other dogs that we have rescued and will rescue in the future.
I am a hormonal crying mess that can’t stop blubbering about this poor dog and I wish the stupid fucking weather woman would stop telling me how fucking cold it is going to be tonight. It’s like rubbing salt in my wound.
Posted on January 9, 2010 by louloupink
Lamaze class always makes for good jokes and fun. This week we watched a video of a live birth of a baby. When the baby was born, they set her on the mother’s stomach and wiped her down with a towel, cut the cord and allowed her to nurse. After the movie was over the teacher asked if we had any questions. A girl raised her hand and said, “Are they going to set that disgusting baby on me without cleaning it up.” I am not kidding. I tried to smile at her because I don’t like anyone to feel uncomfortable and I thought maybe she was joking about it. But, she went on and on and I found myself staring at her with a sour puss look on my face, jaw dropped, scoffing. Maybe she didn’t mean to get pregnant.
And then came the moment where the baby daddy was supposed to tell the baby mama 3 phrases of encouragement that they might say to us when we are dying of pain. When it came to the aforementioned scared of her own disgusting baby’s filth husband, he pulled a pickle wrapped in plastic wrap out of his pocket and said that he would bribe her to keep going with a pickle.
What?
But really, I would like to hear how you got through your birth. Was there anything you wish you would have done differently…like not touch your baby until it was clean? All joking aside, really was there anything you wish you would have brought with you, asked for more directly, made more clear before the whole insanity started? I am getting ready to make my birthing plan. I realize that nothing is set in stone when it comes to childbirth, but I do have a pretty clear idea of how I want things to be handled that are in my control. I would love to hear about yours.
I just hope my baby comes out clean.
Posted on January 7, 2010 by louloupink
2010 is the first year that Steve and I stayed home to celebrate the New Year quietly and just the two of us (+dogs who were so happy to celebrate with their humans for the first time ever). It may have been my favorite New Year yet…well, the days of the rented out restaurant and belligerence were a LOT of fun, but this one was special. My first New Year to not drink since I was probably 15…which goes back to my old post of how I am going to keep Matilda on the straight and narrow.
Anyway, Steve and I have a ritual of naming each year. The year 2009 was “The Year of the Burp” and that is because Steve burped a lot in 2009, but I told him it had to be over by 2010. We named 2008 “The Year of Fun” and that is because Floyd decided it was going to be a fun year. 2010 is going to be “The Year of Pee & Poo”. A little gross, I realize, but we foresee a lot of pee and poo in our future. Looking forward to it.
Our exciting evening started out at the brand spankin’ new Blockbuster Express Box at our local 7-11.
We bought some fancy steaks–not from 7-11 (even though pre-pregnancy I did not eat Steak), but they were so good and they were well taken care of before they were cut up for our consumption.
Steve grilled in the single digit weather with no socks.
I made twice baked potatoes and Julia Child’s cooked cucumbers because we just watched Julie and Julia the other night and then I bought “Mastering the Art of French Cooking
” because that’s how I roll.
Don’t tell the pregnancy police, but I had a splash of wine. Mine was much smaller than the one pictured above. Hardly even worth it, but it was great with the steak.
Forgot to take a picture of our pretty dessert until it was half eaten because it was so good and nothing comes between a pregnant lady and her dessert, not even a camera.
The face that Steve gives me when he is done with me taking pictures.
Floyd got a terrible eye infection, but it healed pretty quickly. It did not slow him down either. Don’t worry, he still had a great new year.
Happy New Year all! I hope 2010 is everything you want it to be.
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