Week 40, day 5

Me: But why do -I- have to be one of the 5% of women to get gestational high blood pressure?

B: I dunnow. Maybe because you’re posessed by the devil?

{later}

Me: Sorry I was grumpy about the garage mess earlier.

B: That’s OK. I’ve accepted your role as Household Hitler. It’s a purely economic decision on my part. I have to meet your standards, and in return I don’t live in a shithole.

Me: But I don’t want to be Household Hitler.

B: It’s easier if you accept your role. Anyhow, I know you’re really sweet inside.

Me: Murfle.

B: Deep, deep inside.

Me: Harumph.

B: Sort of like the Loch Ness Monster. People swear it’s there but nobody’s ever seen it. It lives somewhere in the deep, dark, murky depths of . . .

Me: Uhm, were you wanting to sleep in the spare bedroom forever? Because all you have to do is say so.

I love my hubband.

Week 40, day 4

My friend Tulip had a little baby boy yesterday. About 7.5 pounds, 21 inches. She was 2 weeks less pregnant than I am. Congrats to her!

But, damnit, she’s skewing the curve.

Went to see Vickii yesterday. My weight is down a pound, which is normal enough at this stage – so much weight is water anyhow. Unfortunately, my blood pressure is up again. It’s not scary high now, but if it gets much higher, Vickii will tranfer my care to a hospital. For now, I’m using potassium salt instead of sodium on my food, and will start taking cal/mag supplements this evening.

Week 40, day 3

I get asked many of the same questions about a hundred times a day. So, here’s my Ellie’s Belly FAQ.

Are you really super excited?
Hmmmm . . . scanning for feelings. Nope. I’m just taking one minute at a time. I’m sure that it’ll be cool and amazing and all, but I don’t have any frame of reference for being a new parent, and I don’t feel much of anything about it.

Are you just dying to get the baby out of you?
Yes and no. On the one hand, I’m tired of having to pee all the time, my feet really hurt, and it’ll be nice to have more than three outfits again. On the other, I’m probably going to be pregnant once in my life and I find the experience interesting and enjoyable, even the uncomfortable parts. Plus, there are up sides: people do stuff for you without your asking, strangers say nice things to you, and, for once, being huge is cute. I’m fine with being exactly where I am. Ask me in a week.

Oh my God, you’re still going to the gym?
I’m so blessed to have a healthy body. In my view, not getting regular exercise is a denial of that blessing and a dereliction of duty. I would no more give up my daily workouts just because I’m pregnant than I would quit brushing my teeth or changing the oil in my car. Besides, it feels good and has probably made my pregnancy much easier.

When’s your due date?
I’ve addressed this one already.

Oh my God, you’re out and about?
I’ve addressed that one, too. Did I go to sleep and wake up in the 19th century? Where else would I be? Holed up in my house looking at the walls?

Do you have everything ready?
Like most people, we have a limited budget. We also have very limited space. So we’re playing the baby thing by ear. We have lots of outfits, one package each of diapers and wipes, a really cool baby carrier/wrap, a car seat, more blankies than you can shake a stick at (seriously, I think we have 20 cute fuzzy blankets), and other neat stuff that’s been passed on or gifted to us. We do not have a crib, a bassinet, a stroller, or many of the other ‘necessities’ because I’m not convinced that they are necessities or, if they are, what will work for us. Point of need is how I work best.

Week 40, day 2

Poor pit bull. What with me 26 months pregnant and her daddy down with flu, she’s been neglected. Yesterday she didn’t get to go out to pee until 9:30am (when we got up) and then we forgot to feed her until almost noon. She hadn’t gone out for a good long walk in a couple of days either. She was starting to get very worried that her pack leaders had completely lost it.

But I pulled myself together yesterday and took her out to play at Sunset Cliffs. It was a gorgeous day, and I love to see her so very happy and free. Then I returned bottles for CRV, went to Target, went to PetSmart, picked up some virus-killing funny movies at Blockbuster, and got a pedicure. It felt soooo good, and when I give birth, at least I’ll have pretty feet.

I came home and made a vat of chili, washed all the bedding, vacuumed cursorily, baked some coconut walnut chocolate chip bar thingies (from a box), and re-made the beds. We watched a movie and went to sleep.

Bear is still feeling crappy this morning, but shows improvement, and I show no signs of coming down with the crud (knock on wood). I also show no signs of having a baby, except for maybe my burst of energy.

I’m at work today and am letting people know that I want to hear no “no baby yet?” comments. None. Zero. Zip. Unless they are accompanied by cash payments.

Week 40, day 1

So, today is my official ‘due date.’ I had thought that the one from the sonogram trumped the one based on my cycle, but I was wrong. But anyhow, at this point, that word makes me cringe, as it implies something so . . . stupidly controlled.

One’s ‘due date’ falls smack in the middle of the healthy range during which a baby can be born, but so far as I can ascertain, the curve is flat at the top. Which is to say, I don’t think that more babies are born at 40 weeks than at 38, 39, 41, or 42 weeks. It’s just the median, yo.

Why call a 38 week baby ‘early,’ or a 42 week baby ‘late’ then? Engineers would call it normal variance.

I also hate the term ‘due date’ because I’m really sick of people saying ‘OH MY GOD YOU’RE DUE TOMORROW [TODAY/YESTERDAY/WHATEVER] AND YOU’RE STILL AT WORK [AT THE GYM/OUT AND ABOUT/WHATEVER]. Where do they expect me to be? I’m not sick. I’m not disabled. I’m large, grumpy, and my feet hurt. That’s it. Going about my normal routine is the best thing I can do for myself.

Barry is sick with a flu, poor guy. He must be feeling pretty crappy because he turned down cappucino chip ice cream last night. That, I assure you, isn’t like him. I slept ridiculously late today (9:30) but feel fine. I’m taking C and eccinacea and drinking extra water.

Week 39, day 7

I was reading an article in Friday’s Wall Street Journal about how researchers have discovered that thought indeed affects brain chemistry (as well as vice verse). Not a big shocker, though a few years ago it was considered new age bosh. We now have scientific evidence that negative thinking and over-thinking breed depression and anxiety; a focus on our blessings develops a keener awareness of the goodness of life and heals depression, panic disorders, perhaps even addictions. What we water, grows.

Happiness is a discipline and not a destination, but it must be balanced with authenticity. It doesn’t work to simply put a glib face on what doesn’t feel right. Our shadow is there and she will be acknowledged.

Right now there is much celebration of the baby’s impending arrival. There will be a huge hullabaloo when I go into labor. Hopefully all will go well, but whatever happens, presumably we’ll have a baby and it will be a moment of great joy.

But a day or two later, B will go back to work.

And it will be me and a newborn and piles of laundry, alone.

I do not much like this thought. It feels cold and empty and heavy.

I know how to hold up. I’ve been holding up my whole life. As Barry says, I’m a tough little thing. But holding up is not going to work in the face of such a vast life change. In fact, it’s arguable that I shouldn’t even try. Falling apart may be the only way to rebuild myself for this task of motherhood. The death of the maiden, and all of that Jungian psycho-jazz.

But, I do not wish to wallow in the murky bog of undisciplined thought. So much cleaner to allow the fires of rage, or grief, or bereftness, or fear, to burn and pass.

Easier said than done. This is a journey in uncharted territory.

I intend to begin now to work harder at the discipline of keeping a light of celebration alive in my heart. That will be my candle in the window.

Week 39, day 6

Got my car back from the transmission shop last night! You wouldn’t know it by looking, but I must be driving the single most expensive 1995 Subaru Legacy on the road in San Diego County. Almost makes me want to get the dent in the front bumper fixed. Anyhow, she’s driving great.

I’m feeling good. Looking forward to getting some extra rest (and perhaps a pedicure) over the weekend. The very cold temperatures have eased up – it was mid-40’s instead of low-30’s this morning, which makes a huge difference – so not so much of my energy is going towards just trying to stay warm in our unheated little house.

Tomorrow we have a breakfast date! We’re going to the Beach Grass Cafe, which I’ve never been to, but I hear that their pancakes are amazing. I’m excited to see these friends – they just had a little girl a couple of months ago and we don’t see them often. The woman is one of the partners in this business, which makes a really great exercise video for new moms and their babies.

Oh my goodness, I almost just used an apostrophe before the “s” in partners, when I very well know that an apostrophe indicates only ownership or a contraction. Obviously my brain is shrinking.

Week 39, day 5

I must be off a week on the headers above. I am due on Sunday, so really I’m in the 5th day of my *40th* week of pregnancy. I think. Whatever, the baby will come when the baby comes.

I was thinking yesterday. Would it be any less uncomfortable to just be 40 pounds overweight rather suddenly than it is to be 9-months pregnant? It’s hard to say, because gaining almost a third of one’s body weight is rarely sudden (so you adapt to the unpleasantnesses) and would often be associated with other health problems. And it would be unusual to be that overweight, yet be eating healthily and getting daily exercise, as I have throughout my pregnancy. Eating poorly and/or not exercising would make me feel crappy in itself. Just pondering.

Interesting post by Dr. Helen yesterday on the delusion of the perfect mother. Which, of course, can start at birth. I hope that if anything goes ‘wrong’ with this birth I can keep it in perspective through the veil of hormonal changes and extreme fatigue. What matters is that the baby and I are OK in the end. I spoke with B last night about why we’ve made the choices that we have. His view is that after having looked into all of our options and educating ourselves, our choice to do a home birth seems the most conservative and sane. Plus, I felt bossed around by the doctor and he didn’t like that. Of course, it’s always hard to know what the right thing to do is, so we muddle by.

Week 39, day 2

I’m not much of a ’stuff’ person. In fact, I can be very spartan. But I do so covet a really really nice futon recliner (twin size) for the 2nd bedroom so that I can nurse and fall asleep with the baby, but it can fold up into a chair when not in use. Since B will be going straight back to work, it seems to me that he shouldn’t be kept awake every night that the baby is fussy, and the inflatable mattress is comfortable, but not that comfortable. We went and looked at them this weekend and discovered that futons (and especially nice frames) are flipping expensive. So I’ll start looking for a used one and see what I can find.

OK, I have to bitch. A colleague at work told me that she was organizing a shower for me. So I didn’t invite anybody from work to my shower. Have I heard another peep about it? No. It’s not the gifts, though certainly anybody having a new baby can use all the help they can get. It’s that I have several good work girlfriends that I would have liked to celebrate with. I feel very sad about that.

I have two due dates. The first is calculated from the first day of my last cycle and is 1/21. The 2nd is from the sonogram and is 1/25. I’m guessing 2/2. I may not update much between now and then unless I have something in particular to say.

Week 39, day 2

From the Australian pregnancy newsletter I subscribe to, research shows that, if not induced:

• About 50% would have their baby between 39 and 41 weeks and up to 88% between 38 and 42 weeks.
• 5% of babies would be born on their actual due date.
• 6 to 7% of babies would be born premature (before 37 weeks). 
• If not induced, a very small percentage of babies would be born after 42 weeks.

If the average first pregnancy is just over 41 weeks, why is my ‘due’ date is at 40 weeks? Apparently because some German doctor in the early 1800’s wrote that a normal gestation period is 40 weeks. Seriously. There doesn’t appear to be any other reason. I’m not dogmatic about it, but the more I learn about medical science in relation to obstetrics and pediatrics, the more I think that they are the witch doctors.

It’s COLD out. Thirty-TWO degrees wen we got up this morning. Yeeps!