Who Are These Moms?

So, every time I see a photo on the net about moms and newborns, the pictures always look something like this one.

Who are these newborn moms? Do they really exist?

Note the glowing complexion. I would like to point out that she has nary a broken capillary on her face. No splotches that would indicate a couple of hours of pushing what feels like a small monkey out of an opening not large enough to accommodate it.

See the simple hairstyle, clean and fresh? Not like a woman who was just about to take a shower when her water broke. Then laid on said unwashed hair for twelve hours while sweating.

See the peaceful smile, like someone who knows exactly what she's doing. Not at all like someone who has just discovered the torrential flow of crap coming out of her body nonstop, even after the birth. Or someone who's realized she now has the bladder control of an 80 year old.

And her face is thin, not at all like a woman who's been pumped full of fluids for about a day.

This is not at all what I have looked like. Not ever. Not even when I was barely twenty and gave birth to my first child.

Let me show you.

Forgive the photo quality. This was 1997, when we still took photos with a camera and then had to have them developed.

See the puffy face? The tired eyes? The stringy hair? And I had actually showered before going to the hospital because I didn't want to have dirty hair.

Labor is not known for making women look amazing. Baby Reagan sure looked sweet, though. Little jerk is bigger than me now.

Any who, this one was after Quinn was born. This is two days later, after he's been taken off the vent, and I'm able to walk around and shower myself without feeling like death on a biscuit. And, instead of 20, I'm now 30.

Age doesn't help with the puffiness. And while my hair looks much better a couple of days postpartum, I've been pumping for my newborn every two freaking hours since he was born, so I lack the energy to even put in my contacts.

In this one, I'm 32. This is Baby Brennan. Now, first I have to say that Piper and Bridget are abso-freaking adorable. And so was my baby. But LOOK AT MY FACE! I didn't even have an epidrual, so that's just IV fluid puffiness a day after he born. I'm shiny, no makeup, and my eyes just look exhausted.

But can I just say that I'm not sorry for how I look in any of these photos? I labored. I gave birth. For some of these babies I was separated from them, pumping milk around the clock and spending every second with them I could. After Liam was born, I was recovering from surgery, which made me blow up like the Stay-Puffed Marshmallow Man.

This is what motherhood is. It's not picture perfect. It's not pretty.

It's fucking beautiful.

I brought the most amazing people into the world. And if I had to look like I'd had some kind of allergic reaction to something in order to do that, I'll not only own it, I'll be proud of it.

But could we stop sending the message to women that they're supposed to do the hard work of bringing a baby into the world, and then recover while being their round-the-clock food source, while also maintaining a perfect manicure and hairdo? Because the reality is messy, like most of motherhood.

And absolutely worth it.

*****
Motherhood is beautiful, whether or not your baby came from your body. If you like my blog, click the link below which registers a vote for me, would you? Thanks. You're the best!

The Clothes!

What is wrong with me? Wait. Don't answer that.

I have a system. When things are outgrown, I put them in a big hamper in my closet. When the hamper fills up, I sort the clothes into the keep and giveaway piles, and then put the keeper clothes in the appropriate size box (I have storage boxes labeled with kids sizes 0-3 month, etc.). This is a great system. I've never had a problem with it.

When I'm ready to pull out a new size of clothes, I go to the box, take out what I want to use, wash it (even though it was clean when it went in) and I have clothes!

When Quinn was born a dear friend brought me a bunch of preemie clothes. I figured this is the third baby who will get to wear them. Only, maybe not so much. They're gone. As are the newborn sized clothes. They should all be in the 0-3 month box!  How could the 0-3 month clothes be there, but not the Preemie or Newborn?

All of my onsies, outfits, layette gowns, everything. Gone. They're not in another box, I checked. They're not in any closet or chest of drawers. I checked. Even if I'd given them to Goodwill, there are pieces I would have kept as I hope to make a quilt at some point, out of old baby clothes that I loved.

It's like they just vanished.

Now, I'm pregnant, hormonal, stressed out, and not being able to find clothes for my baby is starting to freak me out. Partly because I don't have clothes for him to wear, and partly because there were things that I really loved. Things that every single one of my babies wore.

Hopefully tomorrow I'll be rational, and think of something I haven't thought of yet. Tonight I'm having a crying jag and wanting my baby's clothes. Where are my friends Ben & Jerry when I need them?

Back On The Horse

I don't lack things to write about. From the GI bug that has gone through our house again this week, to breastfeeding laws in Georgia, there's plenty to talk about.

The truth is, I haven't felt good for part of the week, and the other part I felt good enough to actually get things done! Yay for getting things done!

So, that's left me with either no time to blog, or no will to blog. Not exactly a great combo. So, while this post isn't all the excitement I wish it were, it's my getting-back-on-the-horse post. Since, writing something, gets me going better than writing nothing at all.

So, after a day of headache turned backache turned back to headache, I'm going to bed. And maybe then I'll be inspired to discuss something important. More than how I'm torn between wanting to enjoy every minute of having Liam inside of me and desperately wanting my pregnancy to be at 37 weeks already so he could safely be born and I could have my body back.

The Fix

It's like crack.

When it's nearby, I need it. It's new baby smell.

I got me a baby fix this afternoon, holding a friend's two week old baby boy. He's so sweet and new, I just soaked in the cuddling and enjoyed the company.

I knitted some more of Liam's baby blanket, too. I want to finish it and sleep with it for a bit before he's born, so I can leave it with him in the hospital and he'll have something that smells like me.

There's magic in a day like this. Not just the healing and love that I'm putting into each stitch of Liam's blanket, but the company of such incredibly supportive women. It's healing and encouraging for me, too. And I will take all of that I can get until my own little bundle of addictive baby is my arms, safe, where he belongs.

Just Like the Birds, Baby

I have a lot of jokes about why I have so many kids: Yes, I know how this happened, but I've stopped borrowing my husband's toothbrush so this should be the last one! Why, yes, I am crazy. Every so often I just need six weeks off from work, and having a baby every two years totally does that for me. Every once in a while the house needs a good cleaning, and there's no better way to do it than by nesting.

That last joke, is really more true than funny.

I was starting to think Liam had kicked my OMG-WTF button so hard, that my Holy-Crap-I-need-to-get-the-house-ready-for-a-baby button might never be pushed. Today, I think he hit the nesting button. Finally!

I did laundry, cleaned the bathroom, helped my husband hang a new shelf/towel-rack-thingie in the bathroom, bought a push lawnmower, mowed some of the lawn, put up new clothesline, and so on.

I'm hoping that at soon I'll start feeling ready to get out baby stuff. I realized I haven't bought Liam one single thing and I think it's that I'm still afraid that if I do, I'll jinx it, and he'll never come home. I need to get over that. Soon. Besides, I know that the truth is that no one can protect themselves from hurting when their kids are at risk in any way. Even under the best case scenario, it's going to be hard just watching him go through surgery.

But at least for now, a lot is getting done. And I think it's made me tired enough that I'll actually sleep well tonight.

Update On The Go

I had several ideas for posts today.  But a poor night's sleep led to a nasty headache, which led to nausea, and then I spent several hours contracting.  Things have slowed down, as I expected them to, but the whole day has left me exhausted and my brain feels....muddled.  Anything I might write tonight would likely not make much sense.

Knowing this is my last pregnancy is making me want to savor every moment.  But, to be honest, on a day like today I kind of look forward to having my body back under my own control.

Can't A Girl Get Some Real Sleep?

This man, is seriously messing with my sleep:

My wonderful husband is busy catching up on his Dr. Who, and I fell asleep during the Series 4 Season Finale last night.  Combine that with the start of Series 6, which premiered on BBC America the other night, and this girl spent most of her night traveling through time.  But not taking down Daleks or Autons.  Nope, I spent it meeting younger versions of my parents, and even my teenage self.  And then there was some issue created within time and space that sent teenage me on a murdering spree.

Does this sound restful to you?

Maybe it's really the fault of this man!  Er, boy.

Being all cute with his little kissy face and kicking me in the bladder all night long.  That's not particularly restful either.

This mom wants real, restorative, restful sleep.  NOW.  Please?

Anyone have tricks, tips, a dreamcatcher?  Anything?

The Brochure Lied

They made it look so easy. Happy pregnant women, bright shiny babies.

Can't you just tell from these pictures that once you get pregnant, you learn to do yoga?

And of course, I knew I would be bathed in that soft dewy glow lighting all the time.

.

But you know what?  I'm not glowing.  I don't look dewy.  I look mostly a bit uncomfortable, which by the way I am.  But still, as weird as it sounds, I love this.  I love growing a baby and being a mom.  It's what I've always wanted to do.

I have been re-reading a book about modern Paganism that talks about Feminism, Witchcraft, and power.  Some Feminist Witches interviewed for the book saw motherhood as a powerful thing.  Others saw it as the source of a woman's oppression.  I have to say, the second idea made me kind of sad.  If Pagans see in the Goddess the three faces of womanhood, Maiden, Mother, and Crone, how can one of those faces be the source of our oppression?

Maybe then, women were thinking that motherhood really wasn't all it was made out to be.  But they were still recovering from the 50s when we had been so far removed from our natural state of being.  Everything from the birth experience to parenting a child had been changed for us.  Put women in twilight sleep and take away their power in childbirth.  Tell them to formula feed for convenience and have them miss out on the bonding (and anti-depressive benefits) of breastfeeding.  Begin introducing devices so that they don't have to hold their babies so much.  Maybe by the late 60s and early 70s women had a reason to be disconnected from the power and potential of motherhood and to think that the brochures they were given, were a big pack of lies.

But I embrace this phase in my life.  I see the Magic in every day that I carry my baby.  I see it in the way my body provides for him.  Even after birth.  I see it in how a mother's milk changes based on the gestational age of her baby, providing more nutrients for a premature infant.  I see it in the face of my baby, asleep on my chest in a sling, or cradled in my arms in bed.  I feel that magic every time one of my children has a milestone and learns something new.  I am raising a whole generation of new people who will go out and change the Earth in some way.  How can there not be power in that?

So, while I'm not good at yoga, and I'm not sitting around the beach in billowy dresses, staring out at the ocean (and didn't even when I lived in California), I know that I don't need a brochure to explain to me how amazing it is to have a baby.  And thank the Gods for that.  Because honestly, sometimes pregnancy is not fun.  Not by a long shot.

So, I'm Not Always Ok

They tell me that right now my little Liam looks something like this:

Pretty cute.  

Most days, the knowledge that I've gotten this far, makes me happy.  But then there are other days.  Days like today.  I have the scary diagnosis and the positive prognosis.  And most of the time I hold on to the positive for all it's worth.  The problem is, I don't know how this all ends yet.  I'm only halfway through the story.  I don't like being halfway through stories.  That's why I read books so fast.  I want to know how they end.  I also have ridiculously little patience.  So, having this many kids was a great choice, right?

The thing is, I'm genuinely scared.  I've realized that I'm not really scared of having a c-section.  I'm scared because there's something wrong with my baby.  If there weren't, a section wouldn't be in the plans at all.  I'm scared because I can't see the future and know that he's coming home safe with me.  

I don't know that this is reasonable on my part.  I'm pregnant, hormonal, and almost always hungry.  Seriously, I had to go buy size large pants today.  I can fully admit that I'm not reasonable or rational at this point.  And, to be honest, I don't want to be that hysterical pregnant woman who makes everyone crazy because she's freaking out when she shouldn't.  I know that most of the time people don't want to hear about this.  Not unless I'm saying that everything is going to be great.  

But sometimes, just sometimes, I completely lose my grip of all things positive and encouraging and am almost completely overwhelmed by this abject fear that it isn't all going to work out.  Then again, I can't follow my fears to their possible conclusions, because even I can't let myself go to worst case scenario.  

So here's what I'd like:  If anyone has a crystal ball I can borrow, so I can see exactly what's going to happen, I'd really love it if you'd share.  The scary place just sucks.  So do the contractions on top of round ligament pains.  There's just no good justification for any pregnant woman to have both of those at the same time!

The Beginners Guide To Pregnancy...

All righty, Peeps.  What happens when the Muse Mama runs out of blog ideas, or thinks if she writes about her kids she'll alienate her readers by rambling on about how much she wishes muzzles were legal for small kids?  A list, that's what.  So tonight, before I get away from my children, I offer you the following:

Top 10 Things Every Woman Should Know About Pregnancy:

1. Morning Sickness is bullshit.  It doesn't just happen in the morning, and it doesn't always magically disappear at 12 weeks.  The Bestie is 3 weeks ahead of me in her pregnancy and is still having Morning Sickness at 27 weeks.  How crappy is that?  There are medications that can help, and God knows that there are a million-and-one folk recipes.  But the best advice I can give you is to follow your gut.  Pun intended.  If you think it will help, do it.  If you think it will make it worse, don't.
2. Your boobs will be awesome!  And no one will be allowed to touch them.  Finally you'll have the cans you've always wanted.  Your partner will be so excited, until they want to play.  For most of us, touch our breasts while pregnant, and you might lose your hand.
3. Ice Cream is not a food group.  Okay, so maybe not everyone has the same cravings I have during pregnancy.  Not all of you are driving in circles around the local Sonic, trying to talk yourself out of Chili Cheese Fries.  But whatever your craving is, unless it's for carrot sticks, it may be sneaking up on you.  Maternity clothes are forgiving.  Especially with a big baby in front of you to take the focus off.  Once that baby comes out and you can see your thighs, it's scary.  Be prepared.
4. I don't care what your friends have told you about stretch marks, you can't keep them away if you're predisposed.  But Cocoa butter is your friend.  It will help the itching.  Yes, there's itching.
5. Not everyone gets beautiful hair, nails, and a glow.  Some of us are lucky if we don't have horrible acne or broken capillaries from all the throwing up.  Don't worry, it will end.
6. Babies are heavy.  Even in utero.  A pregnancy belt is your friend, especially if you work a job that keeps you on your feet.
7. Mood swings are real.  Keep a stash of whatever makes you feel better.  Chocolate and a hot bath work for me.  And by all means, tell you partner that you're crazy and to go with it.  It doesn't help if they tell you you're irrational.  You know that already.
8. Don't Read What To Expect.  I swear, it's a great reference book, but it won't give you the kind of important information that you can get in books like The Girlfriends Guide to Pregnancy or Pregnancy Sucks.  
9. Don't listen to the horror stories.  Everyones labor and delivery is different.  It's better and worse than you expect it to be.  It's too late to go back now, so don't listen to anyone who scares you.  Even if it's your mom.
10. Enjoy.  This is the only time you'll have this particular relationship with your child.  Savor the kicks, even when they're in your ribs, bladder, cervix, or that really tender muscle down low.  It feels like forever, but it's not, so take your time and remember.  Write down your thoughts, feelings, and experiences.  It's worth it.

The Gift Of Birth

I have loved having my babies.  Really.  Through it all, it's been the most amazing gift I've had.  It's this moment where I become the mother of a tiny new human.  How cool is that?

For me, this has happened through the vaginal birth process.  TMI?  But whether it comes from a c-section, surrogacy, adoption, doorstep offerings, honestly, I could care less how it happens.  Because however a woman becomes a mother, it's something so incredible, it can hardly be described with words.

Liam's pregnancy has challenged how I think of my own birth experience.  This time, I'll be delivering via c-section, and will not experience it the way I have before.  And I think there's a certain amount of disappointment in that.  Probably because it's different.

So, my friend Dada was on a podcast today over at Birth Stories On Demand and it was so cool to hear her!  Living in Minnesota I haven't seen her in forever.  I'm so proud of the Mama she's become, and the way she talks about birth is how I feel about it too.  I'm so happy for her and both of her gorgeous babies.  Seriously, I kinda wanted to squee and hug her though the computer when I heard the podcast!

Bless Dada and Kelli's hearts.  They even mentioned Liam and me.  For anyone who gets here from the podcast, we have many reasons to hope.  Not only is Liam likely to live past birth, he may live a totally normal life.  And while I'm still scared, I know I'm lucky.  Because it looks like Liam's birth will bring a gift I won't have to give back.  I know how painful it is to leave the hospital empty handed, and my heart is with all the mamas who have empty arms and aching hearts today.

I know this post is a little disjointed, but then that's kind of how I've felt today.  Disjointed and odd, looking for comfort where I can find it.  

Oh, and Dada?  It's pronounced in-sef-a-luh-seal (encephalocele).  Love you!

Mama Wants Cheese Fries, and Other Musings

Mama wants cheese fries.  All right, I'll be honest.  Mama wants food.  I'm not picky, I'm just hungry.  Call it stress.  Call it pregnancy.  Call it throwing-my-fifty-pound-weight-loss-out-the-window.  But I am very, very tempted by all things food (especially if cheese is in the title).

Not only am I hungry, but I crave coffee and hot chocolate.  My Keurig should really be brewing more than one cup at a time, though in fairness, since it doesn't, I do have to pace myself.  I keep forgetting that Liam is pushing up my stomach from underneath and slowing my digestion (isn't pregnancy fun?) so every time I eat (which we've established, is frequently) I don't always end up feeling fantastic afterward.

I should give myself some credit, though.  Today was actually a pretty good day.  I only looked up information on encephaloceles a few times.  I didn't take a nap.  I cooked.  I spent time with a friend.  I didn't completely overeat.  I updated my blog.  I like the new template (though what I wouldn't give for a custom blog design) but I wish the font were a little bigger.  I tried to play around with the size, but it ended up throwing off the sidebars, and no one wants that.  I think. 

I'm finding things to occupy my time.  From laundry to taking little boys to the bathroom a zillion times a day.  Yes, zillion is a real number, I think.  I'm even listening to Liam's heartbeat if I feel like he's not moving around enough.  Oh, and I have plans to go knitting this weekend.  Who says I don't know how to party?  

Now, I'll let you in on a secret.  I'm seriously thinking about getting my tubes tied when I have my c-section.  I mean since they're in there and all.  I have enough children.  I love the children I have.  I don't want to go through this kind of stressful pregnancy again, or risk that we might have a baby with far more serious issues than Liam has (his is serious enough, in my opinion).  At the same time, getting my tubes tied carries with it a certain sense of finality that while necessary, I still find a bit sad at the same time.  I'll come to peace with it, I'm sure.  But I wonder if anyone else feels this way, or if most women are just super happy to have it done with.  

Baby Brennan Is Born!

I woke up Saturday and just didn't feel right. I was moody and weepy and way too emotional. I thought maybe it was because Karina was going home. I absolutely adore my step-daughter and love having her here. I decided that, whatever the cause, I needed to listen to my body and my emotions and try to rest. I didn't do very well at it though.

Around 8:30 PM I went to the bathroom, hoping it would help ease the contractions I'd been having. As I was walking back to bed, I felt the familiar pop and gush that meant my water had broken. I went upstairs and told Dominic, who was not surprised. My emotional state had already clued him in that labor was coming.

After our friend Sonya came to watch the kids for the night, Dominic and I took off to the hospital.

The nurses confirmed that my membranes had ruptured, and admitted me. There was some concern that the NICU wouldn't be able to take our baby, which was important since he was 6 weeks early. Lucky for us, they said they'd be able to take him in the morning. So, we stayed at our hospital and didn't push labor to get going. We both tried to get some sleep.

At about 5 am, Pitocin was started. It took time to really get labor going, but Pit is pretty effective, and within a few hours I was starting to feel the contractions. They advanced the medication slowly which allowed me to progress well with labor. We put our Bradley techniques to good use with other techniques that work for us. I knew me. I knew that labor would progress slowly at first, and then rapidly.

After hours in labor, I started to look more like this:

I was tired, and working hard, and despite smiling, it totally showed. I was having pretty bad back labor. I felt all my contractions from the top of my hips in the back and all the way down my thighs. Back rubs usually make me feel better in labor. But this time I found it distracting. I tried to sit up as much as possible to let baby's head push on my cervix, and Dominic would sit at the end of my bed and rub my legs.

My husband, by the way, is a fantastic birth coach. Encouraging and patient, he always knew the right tone to take, picked up easily on my cues, and did everything possible to meet my needs. He also never took offense if I sounded snappy when making a request. Sometimes I have a hard time when in the throes of a contraction, finding a way to politely ask for what I want.

Around 3 pm labor had progressed and contractions were coming much harder. I was having a hard time getting in a good position and keeping baby's heart on the monitor. At which point we elected for internal monitoring. I was now very hard at work, and relying on my training and my husband to get me through each contraction. After each one I reminded myself that I was one contraction closer to the end. It was probably close to an hour later when my nurse said she thought it was only going to be a couple more contractions before I was ready to push. I agreed.

Two contractions later, everything changed. I felt his head come down quickly and the urge to push was overwhelming. While I started pushing, Dominic called the nurse. The contraction ended and the nurse checked me, afraid I was pushing too soon and wanting to be sure I was ready and not going to hurt my cervix. She felt the baby's head and got on the intercom paging my doctor and the NICU team.

The next contraction hit and I pushed. The nurse asked me to stop, saying she really didn't want to deliver a 34 weeker. I tried to pant through it, I swear I did! But my body had other ideas and it was pushing the baby out. I could feel him coming. And frankly, I had lost all control and stopped trying to work against my body. I saw the nurse and Dominic practically jump towards the bed to catch our baby as he slipped out. They put him on my chest and he let out a beautiful lusty cry. Brennan Beren Basso had been born at 4:05 pm.

The doctor arrived and I cut the cord. I'd had a few precious moments with him before he was whisked off by the NICU nurses.

I had made it through just fine, and again, without an epidural. Epidurals can be nice, and believe me, I would have liked one. Maybe it's because I've never had a labor that wasn't either Pitocin induced or augmented. I don't know. But I do know that I recover a lot easier when I don't get one. So, I was very proud of myself.

The NICU weighed him in at 5 lbs. 1 oz. and he was 18 1/2 inches long.

Despite his prematurity, he's strong and pretty healthy. His quick trip through the birth canal meant that all the fluid wasn't quite squeezed from his lungs. But he's been expelling it, coughing it up, and is improving quickly. He hasn't needed to be intubated, but is on a CPAP machine which makes sure that he's taking deep enough breaths.

His breathing is still pretty rapid. But his blood gasses keep coming back great and he's very active. Hopefully I'll get to hold him this afternoon.

Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers. If things continue this well, he'll be home with us in no time. And, as ever, I am so thankful for all of the gifts we've been given, including the love of friends, family, and people who have never even met us, but offered us so much love and support. You all continue to be God's hands in our lives.

Baby is Coming

Well, despite all my high hopes, history is repeating itself. I'm 34 weeks pregnant today and my water has broken. We're al settled in at the hospital and labor hasn't really started, so we're hoping to get a bit of rest tonight.

When we first got here, they told us that the special care nursery wasn't able to take our baby. So, the choice was between trying to hold off labor as long as possible, or transferring us to another hospital. We've had all our Minnesota babies here, and I really hoped we wouldn't have to leave.

Thankfully for us, there won't be a staffing issue as of tomorrow morning, so we don't have to leave. Our nurses tonight are both familiar faces. One took care of us when I went into labor with Quinn, and one took care of us both for Sarah and Ciaran's birth.

There's something about having a baby with people who've cared for you before and remember you. I'm so thankful to have such incredible staff to care for me, and our baby.

Please pray for us. I wanted this baby to stay in a bit longer!

Some Peace

Dreaming about things that make me anxious did not make my sleep restful. Thankfully, they seem to have stopped. Friday night, I had my last bad dream. In it I was eating with my parents at an outdoor taco stand in California, when my dentist called and informed me that tests had shown that my lower teeth were swollen. Seven of them, in front, would need to be removed, and a non-feeding tube would need to be inserted into my stomach. I was terrified and confused. In the dream I knew I would let her take my teeth, and I was powerless to stop it.

Saturday morning I was driving to work, listening to a guest on a radio show I listen to. He was a dream expert and reminded me of things I often forget. Like, I better than anyone, can analyze my dreams. I realized that there was something all of my weird pregnancy dreams have had in common. In them I'm frightened, overwhelmed, or I feel powerless. Even the dream about my teeth, has to do with my children. My mother used to say that in the old days in Britain, a woman could expect to lose a tooth with every child. Counting Sarah, this baby will be my seventh child.

Once I acknowledged that I'm nervous about having the baby early, and about being overwhelmed with the demands of parenting six children, the dreams seem to have lightened up. Something for which I am deeply grateful. Between restless legs, restless baby, and a restless bladder, my sleep is poor enough without the bad dreams.

Since then I've been enjoying my kids, enjoying what is left of my beautiful step-daughter's visit, and enjoying the wonderful foods coming out of my crock pot. Oh yes, I am deeply obsessed with my slow cooker, and my family is all the more well fed because of it.

I'm officially 33 weeks pregnant. My OB said I was "rapidly" moving through the third trimester. Oh, yes, he did say "rapidly". You can tell he's not trying to sleep with this baby at night. I'm sure it would feel far less "rapid" if he did. He's a great doctor, but it was a very amusing comment. Quinn was born at 35 weeks according to the doctors (I thought he might have been 34 weeks). So, I'm hoping that we have at least a few more weeks to go so that I can keep him in long enough to come home with me. I really like it when my babies come home with me.

Anxiety

Meeting a new baby, even one that has been living inside of you for months, is incredibly exciting and I'm looking forward to it. I'm not at all nervous about meeting my baby boy. I'm not anxious about becoming a mother. After all, this isn't exactly my first go-round.

I'm still having the vivid pregnancy dreams, however, and I've realized that they're all related to a certain level of anxiety for me. When I was pregnant with Reagan, the dreams focused on becoming a parent. From dreams where they wouldn't let me take him home from the hospital because I didn't have a carseat, to dreams where I left his carseat on the roof of the car and drove off, they were all about how I was going to be a mother. With these dreams now, that's not the focus at all.

Most of my pregnancy dreams revolve around keeping this baby inside me long enough. With my last 3 children, each has come a bit sooner than the previous. Quinn was born at 34/35 weeks (depending on whose count you're using), weighed 4lbs. 13oz. and needed 2 weeks in the NICU. I don't want a repeat performance of that. I mean, I couldn't even hold him for almost 2 days. It just broke my heart. Especially since I still nurse a certain amount of fear that I think just goes with every parent after a loss.

My first pregnancy dream was in my first trimester, and I dreamed I was being treated for pre-term labor. Last night I dreamed I gave birth so fast, I barely felt like I'd done it. And of course it was too early. I made sure we wrapped him in several blankets, and got a hat on him. I wanted to transport him to the hospital ourselves. He was breathing fine, and seemed stable, but when we got to the hospital, he needed to be intubated. In the dream I heard the nurse practitioner say that he thought it was pointless since he expected the baby to die anyway. I was so angry and scared. The worst thing was how real it felt.

It's hard, as a mom, as a nurse, and I think as a human being, to remember that I don't have any more than the illusion of control. My baby and I are both in God's hands. And while I will continue to strive to make the best decisions I can for both of us, I must also walk in faith.

I've always thought that God does everything better than me, so I think I'll let Him worry about us for a while. It's too hard for me, and too scary. As for today, I'm still pregnant, and we're still both healthy. And that is a wonderful thing.

Pregnancy Dreams

Being naked isn't something I like to practice publicly. Honestly, I'm at a point in my life where I'm not sure I want to see me naked, and I certainly wouldn't subject others to it. So, dreams where I'm naked are not exactly my favorite.

Last night I dreamed that I went to church, yes church, naked. And not even my church. No. I went to James McDonald's church in Illinois. I'm standing there, talking to Mrs. McDonald, aware that everyone else is conservatively dressed, and I'm without a stitch on. And the McDonald's are being so sweet and polite, that they refuse to acknowledge that I am sans clothing. I keep thinking that if they're not going to mention it, neither am I.

So, in the dream, I go out to my car to dress and escape my embarrassment, only to find all four tires on my car, flat. Then I realize it's my dads car, one he hasn't had in years. So, I leave and find mine, get dressed and then can't leave because there's a snow storm. Of course it was Summer just before since I certainly wouldn't be out nude in the snow! Of course, the crazy thing is that I wouldn't be out nude anywhere.

Where the heck do dreams like this come from? And why are they so much more vivid when I'm pregnant. From the dream that I gave birth to a banana sheet cake (specific, yes, I know) and was afraid to get it wet, to dreams where I'm giving birth in strange places, and now dreams like this. Isn't it enough that I have trouble going to sleep because of a sudden problem with restless legs, or that I don't sleep well since my back hurts so much? Couldn't I at least have some peace when I'm actually sleeping?

At the same time, I'm grateful for a healthy pregnancy and the comfortable bed we bought about a year and a half ago. But if I could NEVER have another naked-at-church dream, that would be more than okay with me, too.

30 Weeks 5 Days

I am huge. Huge and uncomfortable. I'd like to keep working out, but that gives me Braxton Hicks contractions, so I've had to stop. Sprout has had a growth spurt and I can definitely tell. So can my back, my sciatic nerve, and the waddle I'm trying desperately to stop.

On top of the physical changes, I've had an emotional shift. I think it started a few days ago when I was entertaining the feeling of relief that I'm at a point in my pregnancy where, if something went wrong, the baby would need medical care, but would survive. Then it hit me: All the stories of loss moms who went full term and had losses. The moms who sat around at 30 weeks, like me, preparing to take their babies home, but had to hand them over after birth and go home with empty arms. I was so overwhelmed with the I'm-not-out-of-the-woods-yet sensation, and I don't think I've completely shaken it. I wonder if I could ever again have a pregnancy without some sense of possible doom. The idea that being pregnant means I'll take home a baby is something else that HPE took from me.

It's hard for an introspective person like me not to be introspective while pregnant. Pregnancy naturally takes one inside of themselves as you focus on your body and how it's changing to accommodate a new life. It's hard not to daydream about the new baby and how it will fit in to our family. But I'm trying. I'm not watching baby shows, I'm not currently reading any books about pregnancy or birth, and I'm trying to spend my time with my family, taking care of my home, and engaging in activities that get my mind out of myself.

So, color me surprised when I had dream after dream after dream last night about giving birth. In one dream I couldn't remember giving birth at all, and Dominic wouldn't tell me what happened. In another, I couldn't seem to get labor to become painful and I worried that the baby would never come out. In yet another, I gave birth so fast that I didn't feel I'd really done it. Yes, I gave birth repeatedly last night. And in the dreams were odd details. I wanted to go out to lunch with a specific friend, but Dominic thought it was a bad idea to leave the hospital. I moved cars in that dream instead. Why on earth would I move cars? I was walking to increase contractions in another. In one, various people kept coming to my labor room to visit. California friends and family who couldn't possibly come to the hospital in Minnesota! While I did dream that Sprout was full term and latching on well to nurse (talk about a detailed dream!) it was all very bizarre.

So, this morning I was well slept, but not well rested. I'd been giving birth all night long! Tomorrow I won't be able to catch up on any rest. I'm working. But at least I've done a lot of laundry today. I think laundry stalks me. I wash it, fold it, put it away, and it comes right back again. It might be out to get me.

Here's to a night with no birth or baby dreams. Here's praying for a night filled with dreams of Carribean beaches, clear blue water, and a good masseuse. Waking up from a vacation dream sounds lovely.

Crock Pot Cooking

On my list of helpful things to make your day easier, I recommended having meals planned. I actually started putting meals on my Google Calendar and having each meal repeat once or twice a month, depending on how much we, as a family, like it.

This was working pretty well for me, until pregnancy hit. And pregnancy hit me hard. I get up and usually have some energy in the morning. I use it to homeschool, and lately to houseclean and to nest. I'm nesting pretty hard, too.

After lunch, the two youngest boys go down for a nap, I fold and put away laundry, and then, I'm pretty much toast until sometime around 4 pm. When I wake up from what little nap I may have caught, I'm groggy and sluggish. I don't want to cook. My poor family was starting to live on hot dogs, corn dogs, frozen anything, and fast food. Honestly, it's not the way I want my house to run, or my family to eat.

Then my friend Jennifer clued me in to one of my new favorite blogs. A Year of Slow Cooking. Apparently the blog author, Stephanie (who is, coincidentally also pregnant at the moment), got the idea to spend a year cooking with her crock pot every day. It was a New Year's Resolution, and one we all get to reap the benefits of since she was cool enough to write a blog about it!

For the last week, I've been cooking with my crock pot. In fact, my old one was falling apart, so I'm not the proud owner of 2 new crock pots (a 6 qt. and a 4 qt.) and a little dipper crock pot for yummy things I haven't yet made...like spinach and artichoke dip. Sorry, gotta stop salivating on the keyboard.

Now the fabulous thing for me is that I can use my burst of energy time in the morning or early afternoon to prepare my food and put it in the crockpot. So, by the time dinner rolls around and I'm not motivated in the slightest, dinner is mostly ready! The other night I made garlic chicken. My house smelled like heaven and all I did was microwave some garlic mashed potatoes and some corn and I was done. I had dinner ready in all of ten minutes. I can do ten minutes!

Everything I've made so far, except for one thing (and I totally messed it up by adding an ingredient that wasn't called for and just wasn't right for the dish), has been really really good. Did I say really? Really. Really good. My family has been happy. My husband has been happy (he loves that I actually have dinner prepared and he has left overs for work) and the recipes make enough to feed all of us.

So do yourself a favor and check out Stephanie's blog. I mean it. You'll love it! And if you don't, don't tell me. I'm convinced everyone will think it rocks as much as I do, and I don't want my illusion shattered. I've already pre-ordered her book from Amazon and am thinking of people who might like it as a Christmas gift. I'm also thinking about the yummy things I'll be cooking this week. There I go drooling on my keyboard again. I've really gotta stop that!

Busy Weekend

I've been going crazy trying to make the house nice before Karina (my 16 year old step-daughter) comes next week and my dad the week after. So, I thought today I'd just share what we've been up to:




New bookcases! I'm so excited about this. They replaced the hideously ugly entertainment center we had there before. That went to the garage to be shelving. And that whole left bookcase is pretty much exclusively our homeschooling books. It makes the whole room more inviting. Seriously, I'm thrilled with how they turned out. Especially considering they're dirt cheap Target furniture.



And of course, much of my time is spent parenting. I get so much done with Ciaran in the bath. We talk about shapes, colors, letters, numbers, and anything else that comes to mind for him. Right now he really likes telling me how much he likes cake. Gotcha, Ciaran! Me too.



That's Bridget on the left and Piper on the right. Piper is seven, Bridget is five. As you can see, they're pretty much the same size. Most people think they're twins. And in a picture like this, I can see why. It's hard to tell which girl is older. Bath time tonight was good for improving sisterly relations.



Reagan turned 12 yesterday. Maybe that's why Ciaran keeps talking about cake? So, this is what my tiny baby boy looks like 12 years later. Crazy how the time went so fast. Seriously, blink and you miss it. I took this picture with my new camera and it's the only one I've taken in ages where he didn't have red-eye. You can even tell he has hazel eyes! Love my new camera. Reagan got a guitar for his birthday. It's next to the bookshelves in the first picture.



Quinn has officially moved into his big brothers' room. So, here he is going to bed tonight. I figure we have a couple of months where there's no baby in our room. But that's the way of it in our house. And we're fine with that. Moving his crib upstairs made room for a new crib in our room. I havent' taken it's picture yet. But it's nice. And it's the first new crib I've ever bought. Only took 12 years and six kids.



Piper smiling for the new camera.



Bridget showing off for the new camera. It took everything in me not to start singing "Vogue".




Even Charlie sat and let me take his picture repeatedly. I love my new camera. Have I said that yet?



And since this camera will let me take a picture without flash that looks decent, I thought I'd get a belly pic. Sorry about the bathroom, but it's the best mirror! And look, you can see my little coffee pot on the counter back there. Didn't you want to see that? Oh, well, sorry. Anywho, this is 29 weeks. Just 11 more to go. But no taking bets on my weight or girth by the time I give birth, I mean it!

This morning I snuck off to the zoo with my friend Sonya and took pictures of the butterflies. I'm pleased with the ones that came out, though I can't wait to see what I can do with the new camera! And if you're interested, you can see all the cool butterflies I took pictures of here.