Thursday, October 25, 2007
Monday, October 15, 2007
Weekly Update
Well, I'm now 3cm dilated, and last night I had a contraction that woke me up and assured me that labor is going to be serious business. All was well at our weekly visit - same as last time. We've got only one more visit scheduled, and I'm keeping my hopes up that labor will begin naturally in the next week or so. I guess it already sort of has . . .
Today is the first day of my maternity leave, which is great, because I am exhausted. It's 10:45am, and I've already had breakfast and lunch and am ready for a four hour nap. Django supports this plan, so we're off to implement it together.
Today is the first day of my maternity leave, which is great, because I am exhausted. It's 10:45am, and I've already had breakfast and lunch and am ready for a four hour nap. Django supports this plan, so we're off to implement it together.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Weekly Update
17 days til our official due date . . .
Had another checkup today: still 2cm, 50% effaced. All is well; Nora's heart is strong and steady, my blood pressure is just fine, my GroupB Strep test came back negative.
According to the nurse, I could go into labor this evening, or I could go into labor two weeks from now.
We'll keep everyone posted.
Had another checkup today: still 2cm, 50% effaced. All is well; Nora's heart is strong and steady, my blood pressure is just fine, my GroupB Strep test came back negative.
According to the nurse, I could go into labor this evening, or I could go into labor two weeks from now.
We'll keep everyone posted.
Friday, October 5, 2007
Mostly Pictures
First of all, I'd like to dedicate this post to Django - Django, thank you so much for eating the only pair of shoes that still fit my swollen feet and for being the reason that I get to go shoe shopping today.
There are a few pictures I've been meaning to post for awhile - like these, of Matt being the craftiest, most handsome husband in the world:
Some onesie decorating at the baby shower:
Some belly comparison:
Our cloth diapering skills in effect:
Another one from Neesha:
There are a few pictures I've been meaning to post for awhile - like these, of Matt being the craftiest, most handsome husband in the world:
Some onesie decorating at the baby shower:
Some belly comparison:
Our cloth diapering skills in effect:
Another one from Neesha:
Monday, October 1, 2007
Some Reasons Nora is Already the Most Perfect Baby
She is head down.
She is facing my spine.
She has dropped.
Her heartbeat is 150 (or so).
She weighs about 6.5 pounds.
She has a very fuzzy head of hair.
Just a few things we learned at this morning's ultrasound.
We learned a few other things at my (now) weekly OB checkup. One of which is that Dr. Neyman felt today would be a good day to start wearing her Halloween scrubs and finds it inappropriate that others in the office started to wear theirs before October 1st. This only reinforces my perception of her as the cutest, nerdiest, and most kind OB ever. She was really in love with her outfit today.
We also learned that the contractions I've been having for the past two weeks have done a nice job dilating my cervix - 2cm down, only 8 more to go . . . and we surprised ourselves by learning that if the pregnancy progresses to 41 weeks, we will, at Dr. Neyman's suggestion, allow ourselves to be induced and drugged and delivered on an appointed day and time.
I will go completely and totally off the deep end if the pregnancy goes that far, and will most likely be willing to abandon my plans for a natural birth. Matt and I are both predicting that Nora will arrive a little early, though. I've been feeling quite a few changes physically and emotionally over the past week and a half that make me think the baby would like to be on her way into the world sooner rather than later - and as Matt diplomatically observed today: "You certainly have been feeling 'different' for the past few days."
She is facing my spine.
She has dropped.
Her heartbeat is 150 (or so).
She weighs about 6.5 pounds.
She has a very fuzzy head of hair.
Just a few things we learned at this morning's ultrasound.
We learned a few other things at my (now) weekly OB checkup. One of which is that Dr. Neyman felt today would be a good day to start wearing her Halloween scrubs and finds it inappropriate that others in the office started to wear theirs before October 1st. This only reinforces my perception of her as the cutest, nerdiest, and most kind OB ever. She was really in love with her outfit today.
We also learned that the contractions I've been having for the past two weeks have done a nice job dilating my cervix - 2cm down, only 8 more to go . . . and we surprised ourselves by learning that if the pregnancy progresses to 41 weeks, we will, at Dr. Neyman's suggestion, allow ourselves to be induced and drugged and delivered on an appointed day and time.
I will go completely and totally off the deep end if the pregnancy goes that far, and will most likely be willing to abandon my plans for a natural birth. Matt and I are both predicting that Nora will arrive a little early, though. I've been feeling quite a few changes physically and emotionally over the past week and a half that make me think the baby would like to be on her way into the world sooner rather than later - and as Matt diplomatically observed today: "You certainly have been feeling 'different' for the past few days."
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
A Few Photos
Our friend Neesha took these over the weekend. More soon - just sneaking in a quick post at work. (Thank you Neesha!)
Monday, August 27, 2007
Victory!
I am now registered as an insured Mama at the North Austin Medical Center where Matt and I (mostly I) have been planning on delivering the baby since we started seeing Dr. Neyman earlier this year.
Just in case you haven't been privy to all the gory details, the quick version: the little one and I got approved for a type of state health insurance called CHIP Perinatal, which is a relatively new program here designed for women who do not qualify for Medicaid because of their income or immigration status. It covers mothers in certain income categories (like mine and Matt's) via their unborn children with prenatal care, labor and delivery, and a year of insurance for the child. I was initially very excited to be covered by this program, until I started talking to people at my doctor's office and the hospital and realized that no one would admit to knowing anything about the program and how it works. The hospital was insisting that they would register me as uninsured and have me apply for another form of emergency state aid, literally from my hospital bed. I've spent so much time trying to solve this problem of not having health insurance one way or another - as has Matt, and many of our extended family members - that imagining that scene taking place around our new family just got me completely pissed and highly motivated.
After making a few polite inquiries with various Hospital and HHSC departments, I decided to abandon the usual methods, and I started researching St. David's Healthcare, the company that owns the hospital where I'll deliver. I got the names of the CEO and CFO of the company, as well as names of people at the heads of various departments that seemed relevant, and I used my knowledge of the company's standard email format (firstname.lastname@stdavids.com), to email nine executives on Thursday with a concise, well-written request that the situation be looked into. I said I felt confident that the situation could be resolved once the right staff members had the right information. Four of the emails bounced back, but five made it through to various execs, and within three hours, my "case" had been escalated to the head of the PreAdmissions Department. By Monday morning, I had received an email directly from the CEO, who had copied the staff member he wanted to take care of the situation. Half an hour after receiving that email, I got a call from the PreAdmissions department informing me that the situation had miraculously been resolved. They admitted that I was indeed covered and would be registered as such. The woman I spoke with also said that "I had opened a lot of doors for them" and that there's a much better understanding now of how the program I have works.
Which, honestly, is kind of lame. I'm ecstatic about the fact that they resolved the problem, but it's their job to do that, and no one would take 10 minutes to read the policy and/or call the HMO that manages the health plan until I started to cause a little trouble. It took me less than an hour to get all the information I needed about the program's coverage policies, because it's all on the HHSC's website, plain as day. I hope that the ruckus raising I did at the executive level will prevent less savvy women on this plan from having to be jerked around like I was, but it should never have been my responsibility. When a new public healthcare program is created, relevant hospital staff should be trained on how it works. It's frustrating to know that the majority of women and children qualifying for this program are most likely less educated, less confident, and less proficient in English than myself, and have probably suffered needlessly because of it or potentially even denied benefits they're entitled to.
I'm incredibly relieved that this battle is over, and that I won. I feel like I can spend the next month taking care of the fun stuff now, like what color fuzzi bunz to buy and where to hang mobiles and learning how to install a car seat, and buying as much awesomely unnecessary stuff as I can at the Mommy and Me Consignment Sale in a couple of weeks. Not to mention choosing a middle name for this little squirmer. But I doubt I'll forget how intensely annoying and wrong this process has been for me, and I would not be surprised if it planted the seed for some future career in health care reform. If there is such a thing . . . if not, I may have to use my recent experience helping start up the nonprofit writing center to create that career. I suppose it's largely because I'm pregnant and nothing feels more essential to me right now than the well-being of my family, but our health care system is so broken and so pathetic, and I feel like nothing is more important in this country at this point in time than fixing our crumbling systems - systems that - with our ridiculous amount of resources - should be among the best in the world and should be able to support the health and wellbeing of everyone who lives here with ease. I hope to see big changes in my lifetime, and I do hope to be a part of those changes in one way or another.
Just in case you haven't been privy to all the gory details, the quick version: the little one and I got approved for a type of state health insurance called CHIP Perinatal, which is a relatively new program here designed for women who do not qualify for Medicaid because of their income or immigration status. It covers mothers in certain income categories (like mine and Matt's) via their unborn children with prenatal care, labor and delivery, and a year of insurance for the child. I was initially very excited to be covered by this program, until I started talking to people at my doctor's office and the hospital and realized that no one would admit to knowing anything about the program and how it works. The hospital was insisting that they would register me as uninsured and have me apply for another form of emergency state aid, literally from my hospital bed. I've spent so much time trying to solve this problem of not having health insurance one way or another - as has Matt, and many of our extended family members - that imagining that scene taking place around our new family just got me completely pissed and highly motivated.
After making a few polite inquiries with various Hospital and HHSC departments, I decided to abandon the usual methods, and I started researching St. David's Healthcare, the company that owns the hospital where I'll deliver. I got the names of the CEO and CFO of the company, as well as names of people at the heads of various departments that seemed relevant, and I used my knowledge of the company's standard email format (firstname.lastname@stdavids.com), to email nine executives on Thursday with a concise, well-written request that the situation be looked into. I said I felt confident that the situation could be resolved once the right staff members had the right information. Four of the emails bounced back, but five made it through to various execs, and within three hours, my "case" had been escalated to the head of the PreAdmissions Department. By Monday morning, I had received an email directly from the CEO, who had copied the staff member he wanted to take care of the situation. Half an hour after receiving that email, I got a call from the PreAdmissions department informing me that the situation had miraculously been resolved. They admitted that I was indeed covered and would be registered as such. The woman I spoke with also said that "I had opened a lot of doors for them" and that there's a much better understanding now of how the program I have works.
Which, honestly, is kind of lame. I'm ecstatic about the fact that they resolved the problem, but it's their job to do that, and no one would take 10 minutes to read the policy and/or call the HMO that manages the health plan until I started to cause a little trouble. It took me less than an hour to get all the information I needed about the program's coverage policies, because it's all on the HHSC's website, plain as day. I hope that the ruckus raising I did at the executive level will prevent less savvy women on this plan from having to be jerked around like I was, but it should never have been my responsibility. When a new public healthcare program is created, relevant hospital staff should be trained on how it works. It's frustrating to know that the majority of women and children qualifying for this program are most likely less educated, less confident, and less proficient in English than myself, and have probably suffered needlessly because of it or potentially even denied benefits they're entitled to.
I'm incredibly relieved that this battle is over, and that I won. I feel like I can spend the next month taking care of the fun stuff now, like what color fuzzi bunz to buy and where to hang mobiles and learning how to install a car seat, and buying as much awesomely unnecessary stuff as I can at the Mommy and Me Consignment Sale in a couple of weeks. Not to mention choosing a middle name for this little squirmer. But I doubt I'll forget how intensely annoying and wrong this process has been for me, and I would not be surprised if it planted the seed for some future career in health care reform. If there is such a thing . . . if not, I may have to use my recent experience helping start up the nonprofit writing center to create that career. I suppose it's largely because I'm pregnant and nothing feels more essential to me right now than the well-being of my family, but our health care system is so broken and so pathetic, and I feel like nothing is more important in this country at this point in time than fixing our crumbling systems - systems that - with our ridiculous amount of resources - should be among the best in the world and should be able to support the health and wellbeing of everyone who lives here with ease. I hope to see big changes in my lifetime, and I do hope to be a part of those changes in one way or another.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
This Week, This Week, This Unbelievable Week
Monday
Set up your workstation at the local coffeeshop to get some out of office grantwriting done - discover that your friend went into labor a little early with her husband out of town, and dash off to be with her instead for the rest of the day. Go to childbirth classes and act out a cesarean birth scenario, have unpleasant hospital dreams.
Tuesday
Plod through day. Remember nothing.
Wednesday
Spend 5 hours at the Emergency Room with friend who works in same office complex and almost sacrificed a thumb to a piece of spinning metal. Have a popsicle in the rain. Have heartburn and insomnia and other unmentionable symptoms. Consult with doctor at 2am. Sleep.
Thursday
Drop an Executive Email Carpet Bomb on the hospital folks who would rather not pre-register you as insured, even though you are now insured. Get one promising response within three hours.
Set up your workstation at the local coffeeshop to get some out of office grantwriting done - discover that your friend went into labor a little early with her husband out of town, and dash off to be with her instead for the rest of the day. Go to childbirth classes and act out a cesarean birth scenario, have unpleasant hospital dreams.
Tuesday
Plod through day. Remember nothing.
Wednesday
Spend 5 hours at the Emergency Room with friend who works in same office complex and almost sacrificed a thumb to a piece of spinning metal. Have a popsicle in the rain. Have heartburn and insomnia and other unmentionable symptoms. Consult with doctor at 2am. Sleep.
Thursday
Drop an Executive Email Carpet Bomb on the hospital folks who would rather not pre-register you as insured, even though you are now insured. Get one promising response within three hours.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
The Changing Table
So, Matt made this amazing table last semester at school. It's hard to appreciate its full glory in these pictures - the sturdy metal legs, the locking wheels, the nice, smooth welds, and the circular and rectangular slots for tools - but you can get a fair idea of what it's like. It's really a drafting table, but for the first six months or so of the baby's life, it's going to masquerade as a changing table. We're going to plop a changing pad on top, a diaper pail underneath, and keep other necessary supplies nearby. If Matt has time before the little lady arrives, he'll build a drawer attachment underneath the table to hold extra stuff. The table will live by a nice, big window in our bedroom/office/nursery, and as you can see, the built-in tilty feature of the table top will allow us to effortlessly slide the baby into her co-sleeper once she's back in a fresh new pair of fuzzi bunz.
In Response to the Many Requests for an Update, This is What the Last Month Has Been Like
Making to-do lists that expand and contract with their own life force. Tidying the front porch. Scrubbing the kitchen. Reorganizing the bookshelves. Sorting through old clothes. Surreptitiously parting with household junk in the dumpster behind the old bread factory that now houses your office. Needing work and rituals that will prepare your mind and body for her arrival. Learning that the tight and tender spot on your belly some afternoons is a contraction. Feeling extremely uncomfortable in childbirth class as your teacher acts out her own interpretation of a contraction and wanting her to stop moaning almost as badly as if you were having the contraction yourself. Swimming laps at the pool to stay strong; doing the same, meditative stroke, stroke, stroke breathe for lap after lap and watching the liquid veins of sunlight move across the pool floor as you go. Walking home in the shade on the same route each time, to see: the fig tree, the blue house with the giant rocking chair, the lost cat poster on the telephone pole, the slow trickle of Waller Creek. Laying down on the table to listen to your baby's heartbeat, always the same steady rhythm, the nurse saying the same number with a smile. Watching the doctor stretch her tape measurer across your belly. Drawing circles on the legal pad next to your computer at work and marking each spot where you feel a flutter, push, or squirm throughout the day. Feeling disconnected from life in a divine sort of way. Not being able to handle small and earthly things like remembering where your glasses are or that you're supposed to go visit the hospital or how to make Mark Bittman's pancake recipe or to take the things you've paid for at the coffee shop. Realizing the reason the dog always unmakes the bed after you leave for work is that it's his way of rebelling against losing his spot there at night, which you've trained him for in case the baby is sleeping with you. Wrapping your husband's birthday presents early and leaving them on the sewing table to gently torture him with anticipation. Remembering you were going to go to Jane Cohen's house in Umbria this summer when you see your copy of Let's Go Western Europe on the high bookshelf your husband built to make more room for the baby. Coming home from a walk to find that your cat has dismantled the knitting project you've been working on for your sister-in-law, and not being able to be mad at her because she is tiny and fuzzy and nearly blind.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Plants to Eat and Plants to Look At
I have a new craving. In the past six days, I have eaten a certain kind of salad four times, and I'm planning on eating another one for lunch at work every day this week, while supplies last. The thing about this salad is that I'm pretty sure I invented it, and it's so good I feel like it would be wrong not to share the ingredients with you. Here's what you do: In a big bowl, combine a couple of handfuls of spinach leaves, three or four strawberries, sliced, half a green apple, cubed, a small handful of cubed cheese (I'm a fiend for sharp cheddar), a small handful of sunflower seeds, and 2-3 tablespoons of an olive oil/balsamic vinegar blend or other non-creamy salad dressing. You won't be disappointed.
Matt and I went to the botanical gardens today. The heat was a little intense. By the time we made it to the prehistoric gardens, I was too woozy to spend any more time out in the heat, but we did take a nice, long stroll through the Japanese garden, which is my favorite part. Matt's too, I'm pretty sure. There are these great little paths through bamboo groves and fish ponds with massive carp and dragon flies swirling above the lily pads. Despite the heat, it was a good, leisurely, unstructured antidote to our day of massive cleaning and reorganizing yesterday. We reduced tons of clutter in the house, finished one more cushion for our glider, and started setting up the baby's changing table, custom-made by Matt.
Here's a couple pictures from today. Anyone wanna guess what color eyes our baby might have?
Matt and I went to the botanical gardens today. The heat was a little intense. By the time we made it to the prehistoric gardens, I was too woozy to spend any more time out in the heat, but we did take a nice, long stroll through the Japanese garden, which is my favorite part. Matt's too, I'm pretty sure. There are these great little paths through bamboo groves and fish ponds with massive carp and dragon flies swirling above the lily pads. Despite the heat, it was a good, leisurely, unstructured antidote to our day of massive cleaning and reorganizing yesterday. We reduced tons of clutter in the house, finished one more cushion for our glider, and started setting up the baby's changing table, custom-made by Matt.
Here's a couple pictures from today. Anyone wanna guess what color eyes our baby might have?
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Excitement
There are many things about this pregnancy that have been difficult. I don't mind the physical aches and pains so much; I tend to regard them with fascination and satisfaction as good signs that my body is growing and stretching and aching to nurture the baby's growth. Sure, I'd rather be able to stand on one leg comfortably while pulling on a pair of pants - it's no fun feeling so rickety from sciatic pain and loosened joints and swelling. But really, I don't mind. What's been harder is feeling that our budgets and our schedules are so carefully balanced that one careless decision or forgotten detail might be ruinous. It makes it hard to relax. Worrying about health insurance and listening to Bush's arguments against renewing SCHIP before our daughter's birth are much more troubling than heartburn, for example. I kind of enjoy choosing which flavor of TUMS Smoothies to suck on after foolishly eating spicy Indian Food. The pink ones are fantastic, and they work so quickly! On the other hand, I do not enjoy the exhausting and tedious process of attempting to secure health care on the world's tiniest salary and knowing that the people who seem to have the best ideas about SCHIP are me and the editorial writers on NPR.
However, there are moments when I feel so excited about this pregnancy and the tiny little girl we are going to meet soon that I'm completely overwhelmed by it. Like when I feel her squirming around while listening to Bach on the headphones perched on my belly. Or when I read that this week, she will open her eyes for the first time. Or like yesterday, when I was in a meeting with our ED and a corporate partner helping out with this year's First Night Project, and I drifted off and imagined attending this year's parade, and then I realized with a blissful shock: Matt and I will be visiting the parade with our daughter this year. I had to bite my tongue awfully hard to keep from exclaiming that fact. Or like this morning when I walked through a room full of people at the coffee shop to get from the counter with my cup of green tea to the sugar station, and I felt her kick me, and I could not believe that no one else felt it, or noticed it, or could bear to do anything other than watch, with paralyzing awe, me and my daughter walking. Moving. Breathing. Growing. How anyone can stand to think of anyone else is beyond me.
However, there are moments when I feel so excited about this pregnancy and the tiny little girl we are going to meet soon that I'm completely overwhelmed by it. Like when I feel her squirming around while listening to Bach on the headphones perched on my belly. Or when I read that this week, she will open her eyes for the first time. Or like yesterday, when I was in a meeting with our ED and a corporate partner helping out with this year's First Night Project, and I drifted off and imagined attending this year's parade, and then I realized with a blissful shock: Matt and I will be visiting the parade with our daughter this year. I had to bite my tongue awfully hard to keep from exclaiming that fact. Or like this morning when I walked through a room full of people at the coffee shop to get from the counter with my cup of green tea to the sugar station, and I felt her kick me, and I could not believe that no one else felt it, or noticed it, or could bear to do anything other than watch, with paralyzing awe, me and my daughter walking. Moving. Breathing. Growing. How anyone can stand to think of anyone else is beyond me.
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Pictures
Here's some pictures from the past few days . . . a belly shot, and Django taking it easy after a bath. Behind him is the baby's new periwinkle dresser.
Not too much to say about these, except that a short time ago I could fit my entire body in one belly shot, and now the belly takes up the whole frame. Also, if you look closely at Django's picture, you'll see the folded up cosleeper our friend Grace gave us and the very edge of the wooden rocker/glider. These three items are in the baby's official nook. Next weekend Matt and I have some big plans to sew up new cushions for the glider with some nice green toile fabric we've had around for a long time. Big plans. If things get really crazy, we might even play some cribbage afterwards.
Not too much to say about these, except that a short time ago I could fit my entire body in one belly shot, and now the belly takes up the whole frame. Also, if you look closely at Django's picture, you'll see the folded up cosleeper our friend Grace gave us and the very edge of the wooden rocker/glider. These three items are in the baby's official nook. Next weekend Matt and I have some big plans to sew up new cushions for the glider with some nice green toile fabric we've had around for a long time. Big plans. If things get really crazy, we might even play some cribbage afterwards.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
A Long Hello
It seems time for another post. I don't have any belly pictures today, but I can assure you: it's huge.
We had a very busy June. Matt is working nearly full time and taking two Summer Classes at ACC, which involve much welding and the writing of some very smart and funny essays. (The most recent essay was a thousand word exploration of Django's worthiness as a pet.) I spent mornings running a summer camp at a local elementary school with two other TAP Teaching Artists called World Adventures, in which we transformed different parts of the school into six different countries and developed little performance pieces with the kids for each country. On performance day, we had a huge audience of parents and relatives that journeyed through the school with us, following a giant, migrating bird through jungly hallways from one country to another. It was great fun, but hard work, and I'm glad it's done with. In the afternoons, I was transitioning into my new job as TAP's Development Associate, writing grants and familiarizing myself with what needs to be done to keep money flowing into the organization in a steady stream.
I also have been busy helping out with the writing center project that I've been working on for the past two years. In June, we had our first fundraiser, which went very well. Andrew Bujalski hosted a screening of his newest film for us and made an appearance at the after party, where we were able to gather more donations for our upcoming workshop for kids next week. The project is really growing - for awhile it was just me and the two other Founders meeting monthly at a local restaurant, and now we have an active Board, a sizeable roster of volunteers, guest teachers, and all sorts of people helping out with everything from web design to mailing out registration forms. It's very fun and satisfying to watch it grow.
We also managed to sneak in a quick trip to New England last month. For awhile, we had been planning to attend our friend Brian's wedding in New Hampshire, and, although we could not be away from Austin for as long as we wanted, we managed to sneak in a very quick trip to Portland, Maine and another trip to Vermont to see Matt's family there. We were in Portland for less than 24 hours, but really wanted to do some more exploring there and try to get a feel for the city. That's a lot to ask in such a short amount of time, but we did manage to drive around some of the neighborhoods there, explore the waterfront, and do a quick ferry ride to Peaks Island before meeting our friend Ben downtown and heading over to New Hampshire together. I'll post some pictures below.
The wedding was amazing. Brian's family went above and beyond in their duties as hosts, and the whole weekend there was tinged with the uncontainable joy of our group of St. John's friends being together for the first time in a year (or more, for some) and the nearly instant nostalgia created by knowing that our time there would be brief and the time before our next reunion would be long.
Our trip to Vermont was also short and sweet, filled with lots of good food, conversation, and a warm and restful end to our trip - most likely the last before the birth of our daughter.
And speaking of her, and the home front, and the present moment: she and I are headed to another prenatal visit with Dr. Neyman this week. Unless there's something amiss with our routine tests, there won't be much to report. She is moving constantly and growing larger everyday - her movements are visible from the outside now, and Matt has been able to see her pushing against my belly a few times. We signed up for childbirth classes that we'll attend for part of July and all of August - I decided I needed something more than the clinical classes offered by my OB's office and something less than a Bradley class, and so I chose a class at Conscious Birthing Austin. They are very supportive of natural childbirth but also supportive of "the compassionate use" of pain medication and the hospital environment, which is perfect for us. The woman who teaches the class told me that she's not as concerned with the environment in which a couple is planning their birth, but concerned with the inner experience and teaching techniques for deep and sustained "coping" with whatever might happen during labor and delivery. It sounds like an ideal class, and I'll keep everyone posted on how it goes.
I'm also looking forward to Matt learning more about the labor stages and what to expect at the hospital . . . what I'll be going through, what he might go through. Right now, I think he thinks he just gets to hold my hand for a couple of hours and then get to his favorite part: cutting the cord. I've been trying to get him ready for something possibly more intense than that. Here's a typical exchange, as of late.
Me: Matt, if shit hits the fan while we're at the hospital, you have to be ready to step in and advocate for me if I'm out of control.
Matt: I know. I'll just tell the doctors that if anything bad happens to you, I will kill them.
Me: But we don't want the people taking care of us to get upset! We have to keep them on our side. Before you freak them out, can you please tell them my blood type and my drug allergies?? C'mon, what's my blood type?
Matt: A positive.
Me: Good! Now, what am I allergic to?
Matt: Deez nuts?
Me: I hope you know the baby can hear your voice now.
Pictures of Matt and I in Portland, members of the wedding party, and a lady slipper in Vermont:
We had a very busy June. Matt is working nearly full time and taking two Summer Classes at ACC, which involve much welding and the writing of some very smart and funny essays. (The most recent essay was a thousand word exploration of Django's worthiness as a pet.) I spent mornings running a summer camp at a local elementary school with two other TAP Teaching Artists called World Adventures, in which we transformed different parts of the school into six different countries and developed little performance pieces with the kids for each country. On performance day, we had a huge audience of parents and relatives that journeyed through the school with us, following a giant, migrating bird through jungly hallways from one country to another. It was great fun, but hard work, and I'm glad it's done with. In the afternoons, I was transitioning into my new job as TAP's Development Associate, writing grants and familiarizing myself with what needs to be done to keep money flowing into the organization in a steady stream.
I also have been busy helping out with the writing center project that I've been working on for the past two years. In June, we had our first fundraiser, which went very well. Andrew Bujalski hosted a screening of his newest film for us and made an appearance at the after party, where we were able to gather more donations for our upcoming workshop for kids next week. The project is really growing - for awhile it was just me and the two other Founders meeting monthly at a local restaurant, and now we have an active Board, a sizeable roster of volunteers, guest teachers, and all sorts of people helping out with everything from web design to mailing out registration forms. It's very fun and satisfying to watch it grow.
We also managed to sneak in a quick trip to New England last month. For awhile, we had been planning to attend our friend Brian's wedding in New Hampshire, and, although we could not be away from Austin for as long as we wanted, we managed to sneak in a very quick trip to Portland, Maine and another trip to Vermont to see Matt's family there. We were in Portland for less than 24 hours, but really wanted to do some more exploring there and try to get a feel for the city. That's a lot to ask in such a short amount of time, but we did manage to drive around some of the neighborhoods there, explore the waterfront, and do a quick ferry ride to Peaks Island before meeting our friend Ben downtown and heading over to New Hampshire together. I'll post some pictures below.
The wedding was amazing. Brian's family went above and beyond in their duties as hosts, and the whole weekend there was tinged with the uncontainable joy of our group of St. John's friends being together for the first time in a year (or more, for some) and the nearly instant nostalgia created by knowing that our time there would be brief and the time before our next reunion would be long.
Our trip to Vermont was also short and sweet, filled with lots of good food, conversation, and a warm and restful end to our trip - most likely the last before the birth of our daughter.
And speaking of her, and the home front, and the present moment: she and I are headed to another prenatal visit with Dr. Neyman this week. Unless there's something amiss with our routine tests, there won't be much to report. She is moving constantly and growing larger everyday - her movements are visible from the outside now, and Matt has been able to see her pushing against my belly a few times. We signed up for childbirth classes that we'll attend for part of July and all of August - I decided I needed something more than the clinical classes offered by my OB's office and something less than a Bradley class, and so I chose a class at Conscious Birthing Austin. They are very supportive of natural childbirth but also supportive of "the compassionate use" of pain medication and the hospital environment, which is perfect for us. The woman who teaches the class told me that she's not as concerned with the environment in which a couple is planning their birth, but concerned with the inner experience and teaching techniques for deep and sustained "coping" with whatever might happen during labor and delivery. It sounds like an ideal class, and I'll keep everyone posted on how it goes.
I'm also looking forward to Matt learning more about the labor stages and what to expect at the hospital . . . what I'll be going through, what he might go through. Right now, I think he thinks he just gets to hold my hand for a couple of hours and then get to his favorite part: cutting the cord. I've been trying to get him ready for something possibly more intense than that. Here's a typical exchange, as of late.
Me: Matt, if shit hits the fan while we're at the hospital, you have to be ready to step in and advocate for me if I'm out of control.
Matt: I know. I'll just tell the doctors that if anything bad happens to you, I will kill them.
Me: But we don't want the people taking care of us to get upset! We have to keep them on our side. Before you freak them out, can you please tell them my blood type and my drug allergies?? C'mon, what's my blood type?
Matt: A positive.
Me: Good! Now, what am I allergic to?
Matt: Deez nuts?
Me: I hope you know the baby can hear your voice now.
Pictures of Matt and I in Portland, members of the wedding party, and a lady slipper in Vermont:
Sunday, June 17, 2007
A Big Thank You!
Our friend Brian has joined the ranks of those-to-whom-we-are-eternally-grateful by stepping up to become the second person to send the baby a gift from her registry!
He chose one of our favorite items: American Apparel infant gowns in white. These are the little gowns with open, elastic bottoms which make nighttime diaper changes easy since you can gently tug them up above the baby's bottom and then back down again when you're finished. No snappy things or buttons or leg-holes in which to stuff sleepy little chubby legs at 3am.
Look, here they are:
And here's a couple more pictures - I forgot we had one of me at the 20 week ultrasound. We snuck one in after the NP left the room. And then, a picture of Wasabi attacking some homegrown catnip. Django's been hogging all of her camera-time on the blog, so now it's her turn for a little fame and admiration.
He chose one of our favorite items: American Apparel infant gowns in white. These are the little gowns with open, elastic bottoms which make nighttime diaper changes easy since you can gently tug them up above the baby's bottom and then back down again when you're finished. No snappy things or buttons or leg-holes in which to stuff sleepy little chubby legs at 3am.
Look, here they are:
And here's a couple more pictures - I forgot we had one of me at the 20 week ultrasound. We snuck one in after the NP left the room. And then, a picture of Wasabi attacking some homegrown catnip. Django's been hogging all of her camera-time on the blog, so now it's her turn for a little fame and admiration.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
A Big Day
So, Matt and I went in for our twenty week ultrasound this morning and found out that we are having a girl! We got lots of great pictures and a video (posted below) of the little lady snuggling into my womb and touching her face. Normally, 3d/4d scans aren't done until week 28, if they are done at all, but the NP working with us decided to try because, apparently, the baby and I have a perfect amount of amniotic fluid, which facilitates good imaging. It was a wonderful surprise; we were not expecting to have that kind of a scan. But, then again, everything about Dr. Darby's office is nice, right down to the pre-warmed belly jelly they apply before the ultrasound. It was a very emotional and exciting morning. Dr. Darby and his nurses were kind and funny and helpful and encouraging as always. We feel very lucky to have stumbled upon him.
After the ultrasound, we drove over to The Domain and had fancy tea services for lunch at The Steeping Room. Oddly enough, a local Austin blogger has pictures of the exact lunch Matt and I had here. I'm sure you can guess which of us ordered the meal with the matcha dusted brownie.
Here are a few stills of little baby Bush; they're certainly not as exciting as the video, but still very nice.
After the ultrasound, we drove over to The Domain and had fancy tea services for lunch at The Steeping Room. Oddly enough, a local Austin blogger has pictures of the exact lunch Matt and I had here. I'm sure you can guess which of us ordered the meal with the matcha dusted brownie.
Here are a few stills of little baby Bush; they're certainly not as exciting as the video, but still very nice.
Friday, June 1, 2007
The Joys of Trimester Two
Maternity Underwear
I scoffed at these at first, but seriously, they are like heaven in a tidy plastic package - despite the fact that they are decidedly unsexy.
First Trip to Maternity Store
Yikes. It is hard work to find the right kinds of things to wear right now, and hard knowing that in 4-6 weeks, I'll be back, upgrading my size. I've developed an ad hoc "two-at-a-time" rule: two tops, two bottoms. No one at work cares if I wear the same pants to work every day, and it keeps costs down.
Fun Symptoms
Occasional nausea, headaches, weepiness, and hunger that lasts for, oh, I don't know - two seconds? - before rapidly developing into anger or upsettedness until food is consumed. Matt and I are bonding over this, as his hunger patterns are identical.
Wireless Ipex Bras
Amazing.
Constant Kicking
This baby is seriously active. S/he perks up: when I would like to be sleeping, whenever I eat, and whenever certain records are spinning on the record player. This week Simon and Garfunkel produced multiple elbow pokings.
Getting Amy's Ice Cream Bucks from Your Mom.
Thanks, Mom!
Being Haunted by Roxane's Words
I'm talking about standing in front of the mirror, checking out my profile, and remembering her saying: "You're going to be wider than you are tall!" It was funny in March. . .
I scoffed at these at first, but seriously, they are like heaven in a tidy plastic package - despite the fact that they are decidedly unsexy.
First Trip to Maternity Store
Yikes. It is hard work to find the right kinds of things to wear right now, and hard knowing that in 4-6 weeks, I'll be back, upgrading my size. I've developed an ad hoc "two-at-a-time" rule: two tops, two bottoms. No one at work cares if I wear the same pants to work every day, and it keeps costs down.
Fun Symptoms
Occasional nausea, headaches, weepiness, and hunger that lasts for, oh, I don't know - two seconds? - before rapidly developing into anger or upsettedness until food is consumed. Matt and I are bonding over this, as his hunger patterns are identical.
Wireless Ipex Bras
Amazing.
Constant Kicking
This baby is seriously active. S/he perks up: when I would like to be sleeping, whenever I eat, and whenever certain records are spinning on the record player. This week Simon and Garfunkel produced multiple elbow pokings.
Getting Amy's Ice Cream Bucks from Your Mom.
Thanks, Mom!
Being Haunted by Roxane's Words
I'm talking about standing in front of the mirror, checking out my profile, and remembering her saying: "You're going to be wider than you are tall!" It was funny in March. . .
Monday, May 28, 2007
First Movements
So here is my first blog posting. I felt the baby move for the first time this weekend! It was a very wild feeling. It felt like a good solid couple of jabs or maybe an elbow to the tummy demanding some more room. Every thing is moving along fairly quickly now. We are busily trying to get a few things done every weekend on our list of preparations. This weekend we got a new mattress and hopefully will get rid of the old. Here is the latest belly shot, and a picture of our house guest.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Cravings
I have a friend who owes me a little bit of money, and we've been discussing this fact through email over the past couple of days. However, after the 5am craving for ice cream I had last night, I am considering asking for the sum's equivalent in small cups of Mexican Vanilla with various combinations of malt balls, peanut butter cups, and hot fudge rather than some combination of US currency. It's officially my first craving of the second trimester, folks.
I woke up from a dream of ordering ice cream at Amy's (a place I've been to literally three times in two years, but where I would now like to live), sadly, before I could consume said ice cream, and then laid wistfully in bed for twenty minutes, unable to sleep while thinking of it.
During my first trimester, I couldn't get enough of orange juice for awhile, and then it was bananas. Bananas straight from the peel, bananas sliced onto cereal or granola and yogurt, bananas in a bowl with a tiny bit of sugar and rice milk. . . but I now have a sweet tooth like never before. I've been pretty good about soothing the urge for sweets with maple or chocolate yogurt rather than candy bars. But I'm not sure if I can make it through today without a trip to Amy's. I'll just order the smaller than small, "tiny" size, I promise.
Maybe it's just my body's way of keeping me and the baby calm and content. According to
Lise Eliot , "Sweets taste good because it literally feels good to eat them - they induce pleasurable sensations in the body. And it's not just because they give us a big energy boost. The pleasurable feeling associated with eating sweets turns on quite quickly; we don't have to wait for the sugar to reach the gut and be digested. Research now indicates that sweet receptors in the mouth are coupled to brain areas that release endogenous opiates - those natural morphinelike chemicals that induce a sense of pleasure and well-being and even block the transmission of painful stimuli to the brain . . . researchers have found that drinking sugar water or sucking on a sweetened pacifier has a tremendous calming effect on young infants. Sugar reduces crying, lowers a baby's heart rate, and decreases his or her less-coordinated, energy-wasting body movements. . . . In addition to its calming effects, sugar is known to make babies more alert and to encourage their hand-to-mouth coordination."
So basically, a woman with a Ph.D is giving me a greenlight to head to Amy's today. Thank you, Ms. Eliot.
I woke up from a dream of ordering ice cream at Amy's (a place I've been to literally three times in two years, but where I would now like to live), sadly, before I could consume said ice cream, and then laid wistfully in bed for twenty minutes, unable to sleep while thinking of it.
During my first trimester, I couldn't get enough of orange juice for awhile, and then it was bananas. Bananas straight from the peel, bananas sliced onto cereal or granola and yogurt, bananas in a bowl with a tiny bit of sugar and rice milk. . . but I now have a sweet tooth like never before. I've been pretty good about soothing the urge for sweets with maple or chocolate yogurt rather than candy bars. But I'm not sure if I can make it through today without a trip to Amy's. I'll just order the smaller than small, "tiny" size, I promise.
Maybe it's just my body's way of keeping me and the baby calm and content. According to
Lise Eliot , "Sweets taste good because it literally feels good to eat them - they induce pleasurable sensations in the body. And it's not just because they give us a big energy boost. The pleasurable feeling associated with eating sweets turns on quite quickly; we don't have to wait for the sugar to reach the gut and be digested. Research now indicates that sweet receptors in the mouth are coupled to brain areas that release endogenous opiates - those natural morphinelike chemicals that induce a sense of pleasure and well-being and even block the transmission of painful stimuli to the brain . . . researchers have found that drinking sugar water or sucking on a sweetened pacifier has a tremendous calming effect on young infants. Sugar reduces crying, lowers a baby's heart rate, and decreases his or her less-coordinated, energy-wasting body movements. . . . In addition to its calming effects, sugar is known to make babies more alert and to encourage their hand-to-mouth coordination."
So basically, a woman with a Ph.D is giving me a greenlight to head to Amy's today. Thank you, Ms. Eliot.
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