You would think by the sudden influx of phone calls, text messages, and facebook wall posts/messages, that something big was about to happen. You know, like a baby or something. But here I sit, at 9:30 on a Friday night, and all I can say is: Nothing. Is. Happening. The baby just rolled a bit in my belly, but that is hardly a good sign that we are on our way to labor and delivery any time soon. Oh, how I wish I could tell each inquirer that I was in labor, but as of right now, that seems very unlikely to happen any time soon.
In a way, it is nice to know I'm not the only one wondering what is taking this kiddo so long to join us. Along with all of the questions as to how I am doing, are a number of theories as to why he/she isn't here yet. The list includes the idea that the little bambino is declaring a first act of independence/stubbornness/defiance by just staying put. Others claim that this must be a girl because she is A) taking forever to get ready, B) totally different from her brother, C) some combination of the two. Many have said that be it boy or girl, this one is going to be more laid back than Harrison who came crashing into the world 12 days early and has hardly slowed down since. I say, just get here already and end the speculation, would you? Pretty please? For Mama???
Frankly, I am out of preparations to make around the house to entice baby's arrival AND I've tried almost every home remedy (that I feel comfortable trying, that is) to self-induce labor, all to no avail. An hour an a half of contractions last Saturday seemed promising, but then quit cold turkey and have yet to return. Two weeks in a row at the doctor have had me at 3 cm with the head down, but still - nothing! The due date is this Sunday. Sunday! And our last conversation with the doctor centered on just how far beyond Sunday we'll go (the 7th, in case you're wondering, is what she'll let me do). I really hope BWNo.2 comes on his/her own before then. My goal is to have another natural birth and that involves the baby coming on his/her own, natural terms. But wow, kid. Work with me just a little, would ya? I promise - everyone here is very excited about your pending arrival. Very!
And to those of you keeping tabs on me and the belly, thank you for your thoughts, prayers, and good vibes. I promise we'll keep you posted and will do our best to spread the good news as soon as we can, which will hopefully be sooner than later. Until then, I guess I'll just keep waking up every morning thinking, "Today? Today could be the day?!" One of these days I have to be right!
Friday, October 28, 2011
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Release the Toddler??
A month or so ago, a friend posted a link to a video by the band Release the Sunbird on facebook for a song called "Running Away from Me." Although we have spent very little face time together, she is one of my favorite people in part because her musical tastes are impeccable and I love that she continues to introduce me to excellent groups and songs such as this. Take the three minutes to watch this and you'll see why I love it so:
I let Harrison watch the video with me a couple times several weeks ago and he too adores it (yet another reason why I love my Little Man - his own impeccable taste in music!). If he hears me humming the tune, he'll point to the computer and tell me, "That's the song I want to hear!" and won't relent until we listen to it. Twice. His infatuation with the song has become terribly ironic, however, and if you watched the video and listened to the lyrics, you might know by now where I'm going with this. If I remember correctly, my video/music-sharing friend dedicated her post to another friend, who, I believe, was experiencing the same parenting problem that we are currently facing - a fearless and fleeing toddler.
For the last couple weeks we've been struggling when we are at the park or on walks in the neighborhood because HD keeps taking off at a relentless, nonstop pace. A few times he's gotten far enough out in front that I have to start jogging (yes, at nine months pregnant) to catch up to him and for the life of me, he will not listen when I tell him (yell at him) to stop and wait for me. In fact, when he takes off like this, he tends to look back over his shoulder, squeal in delight when he sees me following, and then runs even faster down the sidewalk. Thankfully he has stayed on the sidewalk or bike path during these incidents. But seriously. He almost gives me heart failure every time this happens, not to mention the frustration levels that shoot through the roof when he fails to listen or stop on his own.
So my love affair with Release the Sunbird is a conflicted one. I haven't even purchased the album - or song - on iTunes yet because, much as I love it, I feel like I have somehow given my son the message through the music that it is funny/OK that he's running away from me. Is that even possible? Why can't he hear the lyrics that really matter - the "wait, oh, wait for me"s? That is what I really wish he'd do!
I let Harrison watch the video with me a couple times several weeks ago and he too adores it (yet another reason why I love my Little Man - his own impeccable taste in music!). If he hears me humming the tune, he'll point to the computer and tell me, "That's the song I want to hear!" and won't relent until we listen to it. Twice. His infatuation with the song has become terribly ironic, however, and if you watched the video and listened to the lyrics, you might know by now where I'm going with this. If I remember correctly, my video/music-sharing friend dedicated her post to another friend, who, I believe, was experiencing the same parenting problem that we are currently facing - a fearless and fleeing toddler.
For the last couple weeks we've been struggling when we are at the park or on walks in the neighborhood because HD keeps taking off at a relentless, nonstop pace. A few times he's gotten far enough out in front that I have to start jogging (yes, at nine months pregnant) to catch up to him and for the life of me, he will not listen when I tell him (yell at him) to stop and wait for me. In fact, when he takes off like this, he tends to look back over his shoulder, squeal in delight when he sees me following, and then runs even faster down the sidewalk. Thankfully he has stayed on the sidewalk or bike path during these incidents. But seriously. He almost gives me heart failure every time this happens, not to mention the frustration levels that shoot through the roof when he fails to listen or stop on his own.
So my love affair with Release the Sunbird is a conflicted one. I haven't even purchased the album - or song - on iTunes yet because, much as I love it, I feel like I have somehow given my son the message through the music that it is funny/OK that he's running away from me. Is that even possible? Why can't he hear the lyrics that really matter - the "wait, oh, wait for me"s? That is what I really wish he'd do!
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Guess Again
Months ago I predicted that today would be the day. I was basing my choice - October 16 - off the fact that Harrison was born at 38 1/2 weeks and that this baby would surely come even earlier than he did. Seeing as it is almost 7 p.m. and I'm not having regular contractions - or any contractions, for that matter - I guess I was wrong.
I almost thought yesterday was going to be the day. My in-laws were visiting and as we sat chatting in the living room while HD napped, I started having my most real pain and discomfort to date. Turned out, though, that when I got up and moved around the house, they stopped. Classic Braxton Hicks, I guess, even though it got all of us wondering. I know Ben was hoping that the baby would come over the weekend just for the sake of not having to have the big event happen on a school day or in the middle of the night before a school day. He said he's pretty sure I'm not going to let him leave the hospital while I'm in labor to go do sub plans; I said that maybe he should come up with a "Jenni's having a baby/Activity for any day/Sub plan" that he can just leave on his desk.
A friend told me today to try eating fresh pineapple and going for a long walk. I had never heard of the connection between that fruit and going into labor before, but a little Google magic and viola - I see now that it's a theory! So I did both as she recommended. The pineapple was tasty (although I ate so much it made my mouth sore) and the walk was lovely (except for Harrison getting too far ahead on the bike path - a story for another post, perhaps), but still no sign of Baby coming tonight. Ah, well. I guess there are worse things I could do for myself right now than eat fresh fruit and exercise!
I almost thought yesterday was going to be the day. My in-laws were visiting and as we sat chatting in the living room while HD napped, I started having my most real pain and discomfort to date. Turned out, though, that when I got up and moved around the house, they stopped. Classic Braxton Hicks, I guess, even though it got all of us wondering. I know Ben was hoping that the baby would come over the weekend just for the sake of not having to have the big event happen on a school day or in the middle of the night before a school day. He said he's pretty sure I'm not going to let him leave the hospital while I'm in labor to go do sub plans; I said that maybe he should come up with a "Jenni's having a baby/Activity for any day/Sub plan" that he can just leave on his desk.
A friend told me today to try eating fresh pineapple and going for a long walk. I had never heard of the connection between that fruit and going into labor before, but a little Google magic and viola - I see now that it's a theory! So I did both as she recommended. The pineapple was tasty (although I ate so much it made my mouth sore) and the walk was lovely (except for Harrison getting too far ahead on the bike path - a story for another post, perhaps), but still no sign of Baby coming tonight. Ah, well. I guess there are worse things I could do for myself right now than eat fresh fruit and exercise!
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Calm (and Cleaning)
Somehow, over the weekend, I managed to find a little peace. Perhaps because it was our first slow weekend since....since....since....well, I honestly don't remember when we had a slow weekend last. But, with just the three of us together from Friday night through Sunday night, my load lightened a bit. It was a rainy weekend and not without a time out here and there, but we got some down time with each other and with friends, and we even managed to make a few more arrangements around the house for whenever BWNo.2 decides to arrive. (By the way - I believe I heard Harrison try to put the dogs in time out this morning as we got ready to leave the house. Not sure what Ozzie and Mara did to deserve this, but I can only imagine that they are 10x worse at sitting in one spot for one minute than HD is!)
Part of my peace came from my weekly belly picture post on facebook which received some lovely comments and some great advice this Sunday. First, a note about the compliments. You all have no idea how much it means to a girl (woman/mom/etc.), who is 9 months pregnant, to hear something nice about how she looks. It is especially nice on a subsequent pregnancy because you show sooooo much earlier and feel sooooo much more pregnant (or perhaps you just feel pregnant for sooooo much longer). I had students last spring who said, "Yeah, we kind of wondered" when I announced (at just shy of 12 weeks!) that I expecting - not exactly the kind of comment to boost one's spirits, you know? But now, as I near the end, I am flattered by and grateful for the belly love I am receiving from others. And really, as long as I don't look at myself in profile too much, I don't even feel too big. It's just nice to know that other people can appreciate this body and what it is doing, too. So thank you for your kind words and love.
Second, a note about the advice from a very wise mom (and grandma to toddlers) that I received telling me to enjoy these last few weeks with Harrison. I have been so consumed with making the adjustment to life with two little ones that I haven't really taken time to consider that this is my last month with just one little one. I vowed that I would make the most of this special Mama and Harrison time, and while everything may not be 100% sunshine and roses, the last two days have been different. It is not that our activities have been all the different, but there has been an attitude shift - in the right direction - for sure. I don't want to make the transition all the more shocking for him when "normal" soon changes for good in our lives, but I do want him to feel my love right now with the hope that he'll understand in the future that his place in my heart will never change or belong to anyone else.
So here I am. Waiting as patiently as I can and feeling much more relaxed about, well, everything. I must admit, however, that my house is shockingly clean for a Tuesday evening. Not that everything is polished and perfectly in place, but it occurred to me that if I do, by chance, go into labor, I don't want to leave behind a whole mess of chaos here at the house. So yes, I am more at peace with waiting, but you can sure bet I'll find things to fill the time as I do it!
Part of my peace came from my weekly belly picture post on facebook which received some lovely comments and some great advice this Sunday. First, a note about the compliments. You all have no idea how much it means to a girl (woman/mom/etc.), who is 9 months pregnant, to hear something nice about how she looks. It is especially nice on a subsequent pregnancy because you show sooooo much earlier and feel sooooo much more pregnant (or perhaps you just feel pregnant for sooooo much longer). I had students last spring who said, "Yeah, we kind of wondered" when I announced (at just shy of 12 weeks!) that I expecting - not exactly the kind of comment to boost one's spirits, you know? But now, as I near the end, I am flattered by and grateful for the belly love I am receiving from others. And really, as long as I don't look at myself in profile too much, I don't even feel too big. It's just nice to know that other people can appreciate this body and what it is doing, too. So thank you for your kind words and love.
Second, a note about the advice from a very wise mom (and grandma to toddlers) that I received telling me to enjoy these last few weeks with Harrison. I have been so consumed with making the adjustment to life with two little ones that I haven't really taken time to consider that this is my last month with just one little one. I vowed that I would make the most of this special Mama and Harrison time, and while everything may not be 100% sunshine and roses, the last two days have been different. It is not that our activities have been all the different, but there has been an attitude shift - in the right direction - for sure. I don't want to make the transition all the more shocking for him when "normal" soon changes for good in our lives, but I do want him to feel my love right now with the hope that he'll understand in the future that his place in my heart will never change or belong to anyone else.
So here I am. Waiting as patiently as I can and feeling much more relaxed about, well, everything. I must admit, however, that my house is shockingly clean for a Tuesday evening. Not that everything is polished and perfectly in place, but it occurred to me that if I do, by chance, go into labor, I don't want to leave behind a whole mess of chaos here at the house. So yes, I am more at peace with waiting, but you can sure bet I'll find things to fill the time as I do it!
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Expectations
When I was 37 weeks pregnant with Harrison, I had no expectations. I mean, I was obviously anxiously awaiting the arrival of my first child and I was getting to that very pregnant, very uncomfortable stage, but I was clueless. So clueless that when I did in fact go into labor at 38 weeks and 3 days, I thought I had the stomach flu. As a result, no one was called in time to make it to the hospital for his delivery. And actually, Ben's grandma (an OB nurse for many years) later told us that we were lucky WE made it to the hospital for his delivery! What can I say? We just didn't know and I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up in case it was false labor. (Side note: I do remember thinking that day that if it was "false" labor, there was no way I'd ever survive real labor without drugs as was my intention.)
Now, at 37 weeks pregnant with BWNo.2, I have expectations and my hopes are up. Because Harrison was early, I expect this baby to be the same. Last time I didn't have a hospital bag ready until five seconds before we flew out to the door to go deliver the baby. This time my bag has been packed and in the closet for weeks. Because I am ready, my hopes are up that today (which begins anew each morning) is The Day. Part of this is physical. My back and hips are hanging in there, but I want to get rid of this extra 24 lbs. I'm carrying out front and hold 7 or 8 in my arms instead. Part of it is dealing with the unknown. I want to know if the baby is a boy or a girl. I want to know if I'm looking at three weeks or three days until I get to meet her/him. All of the uncertainty surrounding Baby's arrival is too much for my big belly, my big hormones, and my big Type A personality right now. Yet, goodness knows, I am well aware that there is little I can do to spur on the process.
And really, there is irony in my anxiety and rush, for as much as I feel ready to have this baby, I am also a bit terrified of what the adjustment will be like After. I know it will be easy to love another child (I think of it like the Grinch's heart growing and growing), but the thought of chasing a toddler while nursing and caring for a newborn is a tad daunting. I know there will be sleepless nights and fits of crying (for all of us!), but really, that's already happening thanks to my inability to get comfortable at night and, again, those darn big hormones. So what is actually going to change? Um, everything? And what is there actually to fear? Probably everything. And nothing. All at the same time. Such is the paradox of parenting as I've come to know it. Why would I expect anything else?
Now, at 37 weeks pregnant with BWNo.2, I have expectations and my hopes are up. Because Harrison was early, I expect this baby to be the same. Last time I didn't have a hospital bag ready until five seconds before we flew out to the door to go deliver the baby. This time my bag has been packed and in the closet for weeks. Because I am ready, my hopes are up that today (which begins anew each morning) is The Day. Part of this is physical. My back and hips are hanging in there, but I want to get rid of this extra 24 lbs. I'm carrying out front and hold 7 or 8 in my arms instead. Part of it is dealing with the unknown. I want to know if the baby is a boy or a girl. I want to know if I'm looking at three weeks or three days until I get to meet her/him. All of the uncertainty surrounding Baby's arrival is too much for my big belly, my big hormones, and my big Type A personality right now. Yet, goodness knows, I am well aware that there is little I can do to spur on the process.
And really, there is irony in my anxiety and rush, for as much as I feel ready to have this baby, I am also a bit terrified of what the adjustment will be like After. I know it will be easy to love another child (I think of it like the Grinch's heart growing and growing), but the thought of chasing a toddler while nursing and caring for a newborn is a tad daunting. I know there will be sleepless nights and fits of crying (for all of us!), but really, that's already happening thanks to my inability to get comfortable at night and, again, those darn big hormones. So what is actually going to change? Um, everything? And what is there actually to fear? Probably everything. And nothing. All at the same time. Such is the paradox of parenting as I've come to know it. Why would I expect anything else?
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Following Through
I may have made an error. A large one. I just messed with Harrison's pre-nap routine - something I never, never do because sleep is such a precious commodity in this household. But here's the deal...I warned him that if he didn't listen, if he didn't let me change his diaper, then there would be no books before bed. And by golly (sorry, when did I turn 85?), he didn't listen. So I had to do it. I had to stand firm on my threat of a consequence. Didn't I? Ah, the joys of forever questioning each new parenting decision....
Normally, pre-sleep, we change his diaper, climb into the rocker to read 3-5 books, and then we switch off the light so we can sing the "Goodnight" song where we insert the names of various people/items with each new verse. Much of the time we include family members, but there have been days when animals and even table condiments (yes, ketchup and mustard) have been included. While we did still sing a couple verses today, HD was clearly upset because we skipped a vital step - the reading. He started crying, calling out for, "My books! My books!" which nearly broke my heart as both his mama and an English teacher, but I am learning with him that boundaries and limits are everything and he is constantly pushing to see how far he can bend us.
Apparently, today, my patience broke. I didn't snap and I didn't get mad. I just decided to follow through even though I knew it might cost me. I don't mess with the pre-nap routine because I don't want to risk messing with nap. Ever. And while it was no fun to leave him crying in the dark room and then hear him still calling for his books as I came in here to type, I must say, I think this might have worked. He's been quiet for a few minutes now, so really, with only five minutes of fussing, we are hopefully right back on track for our afternoon downtime. Because let's face it; it's not just his rest time that concerns me here. Clearly this time is vital for me as well.
As for what happens after nap today? I think we'll take some time to read as many books as Harrison wants.
Normally, pre-sleep, we change his diaper, climb into the rocker to read 3-5 books, and then we switch off the light so we can sing the "Goodnight" song where we insert the names of various people/items with each new verse. Much of the time we include family members, but there have been days when animals and even table condiments (yes, ketchup and mustard) have been included. While we did still sing a couple verses today, HD was clearly upset because we skipped a vital step - the reading. He started crying, calling out for, "My books! My books!" which nearly broke my heart as both his mama and an English teacher, but I am learning with him that boundaries and limits are everything and he is constantly pushing to see how far he can bend us.
Apparently, today, my patience broke. I didn't snap and I didn't get mad. I just decided to follow through even though I knew it might cost me. I don't mess with the pre-nap routine because I don't want to risk messing with nap. Ever. And while it was no fun to leave him crying in the dark room and then hear him still calling for his books as I came in here to type, I must say, I think this might have worked. He's been quiet for a few minutes now, so really, with only five minutes of fussing, we are hopefully right back on track for our afternoon downtime. Because let's face it; it's not just his rest time that concerns me here. Clearly this time is vital for me as well.
As for what happens after nap today? I think we'll take some time to read as many books as Harrison wants.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
First Oreo?
Grandma Joyce came to visit for the weekend and to keep us company while Ben was gone today to his grad seminar. While grocery shopping this morning (yes, more meals cooking right now that will go in the freezer!), she had the brilliant idea of going for a picnic lunch.
It is a gorgeous day. Lots of sun, temps in the mid-70's, and a nice little breeze moving the air and leaves. We picked the playground by Lake Hastings that was built last year and is perfect for kids of many ages, including toddlers. Harrison is quite fond of the place and today he had a great time climbing ladders (for the first time, ever; heaven help me!), playing in the wood chips, and making numerous trips down the slide. After half an hour or so of playing, he came over to where I was resting on a bench (thanks, Grandma!) and told me he was ready for his picnic. His version of "picnic" doesn't quite roll of the tongue properly, but is therefore all the better because it has that lovely toddler-take on the English language that can be so endearing (and confusing). I think the closest word it resembles is piggies.
Harrison was a perfect little picnic-goer, eating his Lunchable (we all had them, in honor of the picnic idea) and drinking his juice box with gusto. Included in HD's extra special Lunchable, however, were two Double Stuf (and yes, I happen to know that is the correct spelling of said cookie because I am a fan of such, pregnant or not) Oreos. To my knowledge, he has never before been given an Oreo. Now, if you are reading this and you have given my child an Oreo, please tell me because otherwise I am flabbergasted at what happened when I handed over the first one. He took it from me, twisted one side off, licked it, and then proceeded to devour the whole darn thing. Seriously! Are kids today born knowing how to eat Oreos?! It was like he was an old pro - if only he'd had a cup of milk for dunking! I promise, if you were the one who taught him how to do this, I won't be mad. I just want to know if Oreo eating is an innate skill or something he learned while Mama wasn't watching.
It is a gorgeous day. Lots of sun, temps in the mid-70's, and a nice little breeze moving the air and leaves. We picked the playground by Lake Hastings that was built last year and is perfect for kids of many ages, including toddlers. Harrison is quite fond of the place and today he had a great time climbing ladders (for the first time, ever; heaven help me!), playing in the wood chips, and making numerous trips down the slide. After half an hour or so of playing, he came over to where I was resting on a bench (thanks, Grandma!) and told me he was ready for his picnic. His version of "picnic" doesn't quite roll of the tongue properly, but is therefore all the better because it has that lovely toddler-take on the English language that can be so endearing (and confusing). I think the closest word it resembles is piggies.
Harrison was a perfect little picnic-goer, eating his Lunchable (we all had them, in honor of the picnic idea) and drinking his juice box with gusto. Included in HD's extra special Lunchable, however, were two Double Stuf (and yes, I happen to know that is the correct spelling of said cookie because I am a fan of such, pregnant or not) Oreos. To my knowledge, he has never before been given an Oreo. Now, if you are reading this and you have given my child an Oreo, please tell me because otherwise I am flabbergasted at what happened when I handed over the first one. He took it from me, twisted one side off, licked it, and then proceeded to devour the whole darn thing. Seriously! Are kids today born knowing how to eat Oreos?! It was like he was an old pro - if only he'd had a cup of milk for dunking! I promise, if you were the one who taught him how to do this, I won't be mad. I just want to know if Oreo eating is an innate skill or something he learned while Mama wasn't watching.
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