You are currently browsing the category archive for the 'pregnancy' category.
Here is a little list of things I can count on to sooth me in these uncertain times (politically and personally)
1. breakfast of coffee, eggs, toast with marmalade and hash browns
2. giggly children
3. warm husband
4. hugs
5. happy (most of the time) sweet smelling baby
6. nursing the happy sweet smelling baby
7. a hot shower
8. a book to escape into
9. friends to have a glass of (cheap) wine with
10. listening to my 5 yo practice violin
To get out of my own way more often is what I would like.
Not to sound too cheesy, but I want to be more true to myself and feel good about it. I want to be less involved in what I think people think of me, or how I think I may be perceived. It doesn’t matter.
I feel like I’m in 8th grade again or something. Oh, I hate wondering about this, but I do it, obsessively lately. Are the other moms at my son’s preschool going to like me? Am I nice enough? Are they going to judge us on all his hand me down clothes and mine too? Am I going to talk with my southern accent and have them think I am stupid?
and while I’m at it…what do the people that actually know me think?
I think of the words I know I’ll be saying to my own kids, confidence. It’s all about confidence.
Of course, with 3 kids, and their differing schedules, my attempting a start up business that I don’t even know if there is a market for I feel like a failure most days by 10am and it’s down hill from there.
How do I keep my mind from getting pulled into all of this?
I don’t have time, the one thing I crave to get this full time work I’ve set for myself done as well as full time mothering. Last week, the baby got sick and it was just the straw that broke the camels back for me. I felt like I would never get ahead or even caught up. I fell apart…trying to figure out what happened, why did she get sick, why was she running a fever, where did she get something, and need me for 5 whole days ALL THE TIME???
It was hard to step back and see that she is a baby, she gets sick from time to time and we’re all gonna be okay.
I have a lot on my plate that I can’t respond to, get out of or take care of…somehow her sickness got my emotional response to all the things I am not allowed to be upset about right now.
It made me see how much is in there all wound up in a little ball…..I need someone to tell me how to get out of this, I want some grownup to come and hold my hand through this, so I don’t have to stay up until 1am every night trying to work anymore. Trying to reinvent the wheel so my family can have a roof over their heads, food to eat etc. I hate life in cruise control, but this rollercoaster I’m on is too much. I want to slow back down, have company, make home cooked food, spend time being mom to my kids. I could go on and on and on.
I’ve just got to reconcile the 3 different me’s that there are right now. I don’t know how to do it though.
I’ve been taking a break here because I’ve been working hard on the kids art business.
It finally feels good to me so I’m ready to send it out.
Tell me what you think; or even better, submit your child’s artwork. I feel like after several years of purposeful detours that I’m back on track with my heart’s desires.
that artwork I mentioned wanting to make here is done and is here.
It is a digital piece; I still want to make a physical piece too. This one is all scanned or photographed…it’s a new way for me to work on a collage and it was fun, but it feels like a proof to me in a way.
We’ll see how this digital one and the tactile one stack up against each other when I get it done.
oh and thanks for all the comments on that one, they really did help. I’m glad I’m not so alone on that, it’s very reassuring.
When I am stressed out, I clean.
Not like normal cleaning, no, more like when I was pregnant and that nesting instinct kicks in.
When I was ‘nesting’ this most recent pregnancy I washed my bedroom floor on my hands and knees. I have flor carpet tiles on most of my bedroom floor. I removed them to scrub the floor.
So, you might ask, what am I cleaning now?
Nothing, and it’s driving me crazy! I have 3 kids now and though I have been under some pressure lately I can barely keep up with normal cleaning, much less give in to my urges to wash my bathroom walls, kitchen windows, cabinet doors or closet floor (under the suitcases and boxes of winter clothes).
I feel like an addict or something, that I will need to wait until there is no one around to give in or stay up late one night and make my kitchen all sparkly and nice. I think that by having things in order around me it helps me organize or clean out the problems in my mind. Or, maybe I’m just procrastinating on dealing with the things in my life causing all the stress. It’s not that I don’t want to deal with my issues, just that I don’t want to do it in a messy house.
Since writing the birth story, I have spoken with several friends and feel that I need to put a little more about afterwards. The birth was intense. Talia was kicking and maybe hitting in between all the contractions which led me to think she wanted the hell outa there and wasn’t enjoying it any more than I was.
I was not prepared for how intense or painful it was but, afterwards I was okay. I felt tons better upon birthing the placenta. It was huge. That thing was a relief to get out; once it was gone I felt much better. I felt like I’d been beat up from the inside out, but I got all those good hormones your body makes this time around (didn’t w/ #1).
Mostly, my recovery was good, no stitches, just some minor issues. Everyone around me was in more of a shell shock about it than I was. I think hearing me freak out made my mother worry that my recovery would be a long and painful one like after Eva. I felt relieved and positive about the experience because I knew I would get better this time. My mom was processing for days and I kept saying I’m alright, nothing like after Eva. Really. I never even needed to cry.
I’ve been wanting to write out Talia’s birth story, but that would mean I have to actually integrate it into my own experience.
I’m not totally sure I’m there yet. It wasn’t so bad per se. Just intense and painful.
Also, it makes me feel like I need to write out my first birth story; Eva’s birth story. So maybe I’ll write a bit about it today. I couldn’t even talk about that one until sometime last year, when my daughter was 3 years old. I think I had finally integrated that experience and was no longer bitter any more.
(so, here is the story of my first child’s birth. disclaimer: it’s graphic)
With Eva, in pregnancy, I was the picture of health. I could even still kick ass mountain biking at 5 months pregnant. I was going to be a super birther for sure.
Labor was totally doable for me. I was ‘om-ing’ through my contractions from 4cm-10. Then came time to push. I was in a hot tub, so maybe that is why things happened the way they did. She had cord around her neck, so maybe that was it. I felt okay at first pushing. My mom had just gotten there. My midwife was someone I trusted and liked. Pruitt was in the tub with me, behind me, supporting me with his arms and words of encouragement.
Then, I felt that ring of fire. My midwife said that my baby had hair and did I want to feel it. NO! I yelled out that I was ripping. That my clitoris was ripping! No one did anything about it. I honestly don’t know what could have been done, but it seemed at the time that my statement didn’t matter.
I was told that I had to keep pushing. I had to push hard. After that, I was silent. During pushes I said “HMMMMMM”. Her head was out, she had cord around her. The cord was off. One more push and there she was. She was out in two pushes.
I tore up my labia and had to have stitches, my clitoris tore, but couldn’t be stitched. You can see the places still; looks like someone took a scissors and clipped little bits out in those spots.
My tailbone was dislocated (which we wouldn’t know for two weeks because people kept patronizingly telling me everytime I said it shouldn’t hurt like that, “Honey, you just had a baby. You’re gonna be sore for awhile”).
My mom ended up staying with us for six weeks. I don’t remember the first 3 of my daughters life as I was delirious in pain but unwilling to take anything but ibuprofen or tylenol for fear of what would get through to Eva in the breast milk. I just remember eating a lot, looking up and seeing my mom rocking the baby often while it seemed like I slept forever.
I cried every night when my husband would get home from work. My mom would take the baby and he and I would go up to our room. I would just go limp in his arms and bawl. I thought everyday if I could do it again, I’d never have had a child. The trade was too big, too much for me. I couldn’t sit or stand without pain. I had one of those inflatable donut things; it didn’t work for me. We saw everyone from pain specialists, chiropractors, to surgeons. Finally, we found that acupuncture worked for the pain and I got in with a cranio sacral physical therapist for my tailbone.
When my mom left, the depression really set in. I was in a fog for months. I was a new mom with no friends with kids and I was in perpetual pain. I don’t know when it finally got better, I can’t remember. I started healing physically when she was about 4 months old. Acupuncture and a good cranio-sacral therapist were my lifeline. Acupuncture would often open things up for a good cry too. I think that helped me finally get out of the depression. That and my husband insisting on us getting out often – to an artwalk, out for a hotdog and rootbeer, a walk at sunset, anything to get us out of the house and away from my funk. He was truly amazing for those months. Thank god he is the father he is too because I couldn’t have done it otherwise. I could have easily disappeared it seemed like. I think her birth was such a sacrifice that I wasn’t prepared to make that I resented her for it. It was so hard to go through the motions of being the mom I wanted to be but didn’t feel. I wonder still how it affects our relationship. I wrote in my journal at the time that I knew I would have to give up some of myself to make room for her I just hadn’t counted on in what ways or how much of me would go.
Her birth was the beginning of a painful period in my life that I felt was supposed to have been such a good time. I felt cheated for a really long time. I don’t remember enjoying any baby moments with her really, to the point where even when I was pregnant with our second child I told someone that I didn’t really like babies that it would be good when she could talk.
I’m sure it’s good for me to look back at this now that I can. I tell Eva that she swam out of me in water like a little fish. I think that is all she needs to know.
I am in a better place after this one. I can say that it won’t be 3 years for the next story to be able to be written. I just need to understand it a little better still and take more time to enjoy this baby.
I’m proud to announce the arrival of Talia Grace!
We are feeling blessed in every way right now.
She was born around 9:30 the night of the 21st, weighing 6 lbs 15 oz and measuring 20 inches.
She amazes us. I think we are all in love.
I was getting pretty dang impatient waiting around, but I’m glad that everything worked out how it did. On my birthday, the 19th, Pruitt and I went to breakfast at a new place. It was great. I had a cafe au lait, decaf of course, and eggs with potatoes. We relaxed together enjoying each others company. We sat in a room to ourselves with the sun streaming in a window. The restaurant is in an old house and has a little boutique so he found a little Happy Birthday sign in the store part and put it on the table. He is one of those people that pays attention to detail. “Happy 38 years dear.”
We went to the farmers market, walked around together talking and planning. I am happy that we had that special day together as my mom was here to watch the kids. The kids made red velvet cake for my birthday with my moms help of course. We went to dinner that night also. It was so good for me to have some time alone with my husband before the birth of our third. We had needed to have quiet time together more than I realized.
I will hopefully get a birth story written soon, but for now here are some photos.
This was taken the night before her birth.
Laboring in the pool
Right after birth.
It’s a GIRL!
Talia 4 days old
I am just listening to a clock ticking and ticking.
I know this kid has it’s own agenda. Moving along at it’s own pace for sure.
I had my appt this morning. Hopefully my last appointment… I’m 3cm/ 90% effaced and the head is at 0 station. Seems like all this would add up to something ending with a baby. It adds up to Momma is one cranky bitch, but no baby unfortunately.
Today, I think I even forgot for awhile that all of this will result in a child. SOON.
I had regular contractions last night, but it didn’t amount to anything. Maybe it was the panic of oh, shit…the baby doesn’t just magically appear in my arms. I have to go through labor AGAIN. Why the heck did we decide to have a third kid again?
Maybe this extra time is to resolve our issues with our 3yo. He must be psychic I guess, sensing impending change in his self centered world. Many nights lately are interrupted by his screaming and crying. Nothing seems to console him. The other night, he just needed to pee, but was so upset over it that it took nearly an hour to calm him. Last night, was probably one of the easiest…maybe because I felt no resentment in me over him waking us up yet again. It has been hard for me because I’m already sleeping poorly, uncomfortable with needing to pee nine million times a night and with the weight of the baby it’s just difficult to get a good night’s sleep. So when here comes little mister freak-o-matic at midnight as I’ve just managed to fall asleep, I’m not the best momma.
Last night, I really tried to enjoy him, knowing it won’t be long before there is someone else there crying for attention. I could let myself fully snuggle him up to me and comfort him. Tell him that yes, he could sleep close to momma on my pillow with me. Soon, he was all sprawled out snoring contentedly. I know this is how I should have been parenting him all week, but instead Dadda was up carrying him around, showing him the fish tank, getting him water, reading to him. “we need to let mommy sleep, buddy”. We were trying to prepare him for the eventual reality. I think he probably just needs to know his mom is still here and he is important too.
I will probably miss my snuggle time with him as I have a new leaky body/kid to contend with soon.
I go from being happily pregnant, feeling like it would be okay with me to just exist this way, to being really fed up with everything. Everything and everyone. My body, my attitude, my emotions, my family, everyone around me will irritate me so very much that I can hardly stand it. I know this is not the real me. I can be a bitch, but this is really crazy. I still have two weeks until my due date. How will those around me survive? Tonight, I can hardly stand myself.
On an up note, my mom gets here tomorrow. Hopefully, she will enjoy some quality time with her grandbabies and let me have a little alone time that I think is really all I need. Just some time to meditate and talk to the baby and be in the studio to finish up a little artwork and take a nap.
Usually, I am okay, even thriving on the chaos that is my whirlwind of family life. Right now though, it makes me crabby. I really am fit company for no one and my husband is being sooooo nice to me that I want to be nice but seem to be able to only bark orders at him. Poor Guy.
He deserves a night out away from his sick kids and whiney wife.
I hope that in the way that this pregnancy brought my creativity back it also comes with a sense of peace back to me. It seems that when I am way off track the whole group goes crazy.
HELP!
