Important advice

Throughout my pregnancy, I received a lot of advice from friends, family, co-workers, books and instructors in the classes that we took. When push came to shove (pun intended), everything escaped my mind except for a few critical bits.

1. Use the ice pads. 
2. Empty the cart that the baby's basinette is on. Take the wipes, the diapers, the bath supplies and everything else that's in there. 
3. Take a blanket and hat home to the dog. This was great for us because Chino was able to conduct a full inspection before we brought Baby Bean home.
4. Have giant, overnight pads on hand. You'll need them.
5. Bring your Boppy or breast feeding pillow to the hospital. Your arms will thank you.

Here are a few tidbits/observations of my own (in no particular order - except for #1):

1. Use the ice pads. Yes, its that important.
2. Breastfeeding is not natural and it is hard. If you want to do it, commit to it and know that it will take awhile for you and your baby to figure things out. For me, it was physically and emotionally painful. It took awhile for my milk to come in, which meant that I was frustrated and my baby was screaming. Just when I was ready to give up, things started to click, but it was heart breaking to know that my baby was hungry and there was nothing I could do about it. I'm thankful for Nick and for my mom who supported me, dried my tears and told me that everything would be okay. And it is.
3. In addition to figuring out how to install the car seat in the car, making sure its level, make sure you know how to install the baby into the car seat. Seems like a no-brainer, but when you're exhausted and overwhelmed and emotional, it is a difficult task.
4. Take a sleeper as a going home outfit. It is just easier than pants.
5. When ordering food, order two entrees. Insurance is paying enough that you can stealthily feed your hubby too.
6. Tip for daddies - take your own pillow and blanket. It might make your uncomfortable couch a titch more bearable.
7. Don't feel guilty about sending your baby to the nursery for a few hours so you can sleep. Or, if you feel guilty - just do it anyway because the sleep was worth it.
8. A tip for mommies and daddies - Its okay to cry. A lot. The happy hormone plug was abruptly removed and it takes awhile to level off after that. Not to mention the huge, life changing event that just occurred and the adorable tiny human that is now yours to take care of.
9. If you chose to breastfeed, go to a lactation consultant and get a bra fitting. Your boobs will thank you.
10. You will figure out your own way, what works and what doesn't and it is okay that it isn't what worked for your super mom friends or for the instructor in your baby care class. Be sure to tell yourself that while you enjoy the initial moments of cluelessness as you and your baby start to get to know one another.

Baby Bean's Birthday

We have been a family of three two leggers and one four legger for almost two weeks now, and wow does time fly. I can't believe that about two weeks week ago, this squirmy, snorty, poopy, snuggly little boy was a baby bump that we affectionately called "it". Even though I have no idea what I'm doing, I feel like I already know him, after spending so much time together before his arrival. My brain has shifted from "have I felt him kick recently?" to "when was the last time he ate and what boob was on the menu?"

Now that he's here, I really understand and appreciate Riverside Hospital's tagline; A Birth of a Mom. As soon as he was placed on my chest, it happened. I transformed from a selfish pregnant lady to a mommy. It happened so fast, I almost missed it, but the feeling was unmistakable. All of the sudden, I forgot about my swollen ankles, my sleepless nights and my craving for lunch meat because I was holding my son. "It" had a face and a name and a GENDER! He was here and it was love at first sight. Before I move forward into what I've learned in this week, I want to back up to the day he decided to enter this world.

I woke up when my alarm went off at 6:30am, with every intention of heading into work, since Baby Bean wasn't due for another week. I was still hoping for an early arrival, especially since my Dr. gave me the impression that I wouldn't be making it to my scheduled appointment on Monday. When I woke up, I noticed that I was having some cramping - nothing major, nothing to call home about - but definite cramps. Then they stopped. Then they started again. That's when I said to Nick, "I think I'm having contractions."

Being the newbies that we are, we still weren't sure, so he proceeded to get dressed and ready for work, and I decided that I'd be working from home, just in case this was the real thing. I made my way downstairs and the cramps continued - stop, start, stop, start - in irregular intervals. At this point, I knew that this was IT. I was going to have a baby. They still weren't bad, so Nick went to work to get his laptop so he could work from the kitchen table while keeping a close eye on me. We started timing the contractions, using an app of course. They were pretty irregular in duration and in the time in between. Because we are Mr. and Mrs. Directions Followers, we were waiting for that magic time that they taught us about in class - the 5-1-1 rule. Contractions that are five minutes apart, lasting at least one minute for an hour.

As the day went on, the contractions (cramps) continued. I was able to walk around, eat (popcorn, cereal and mac & cheese), talk and watch TV. Somewhere around 5pm, they started to intensify to the point that I had to sit and bounce on an exercise ball in order to get through them. At this point, we were realizing that this was really real, so Nick loaded our hospital bags, packed a bag for Chino and then made a call to his Aunt to arrange a mutt drop-off before we went to the hospital. In the back of my mind, I was still in shock that this was actually happening. I was afraid to go to the hospital too soon because I didn't want to get sent home. All through this process, we had been keeping my parents updated, promising that we'd call when we decided to head to the hospital, so they could start making the trip to Ohio from PA.

Finally, around 6:30pm - the contractions were around 6 minutes apart. We decided that we should go to the hospital NOW versus waiting for them to be 5 minutes so we had some time for traffic and to drop Chino off. We got in the car and headed to the hospital. We pulled up to the valet at the hospital, met Nick's aunt, and handed Chino off. She seemed more nervous than we did. I was still walking and talking and wondering if this was it, as we headed through the doors.

Once we got to the maternity floor and into triage, the nurses asked a ton of questions, including how long I'd been having pain and what my current pain level was. They eluded to the fact that we may not get admitted. Maybe it was because I wasn't screaming and swearing? I don't know. They finally checked me and found that I was already at 7cm, which meant that it really was time for Baby Bean to make his arrival! Aside from high blood pressure, everything looked good and it was time to get admitted and to get to the labor and delivery room.

Because laying in bed made the contractions more painful, I stood while the paperwork was completed and then walked to the room where Baby Bean would be born. After our class, I was expecting to be able to use the shower and the birthing ball to help ease my labor pains, but as soon as we got there, I was hooked up to an IV, which limited my mobility. Although I had yet to have THE contraction that made me want an epidural, I asked for one as a preventative measure, and was put on the list. Even though I couldn't move too far from the bed, I went through labor by standing and pacing and leaning on Nick. I had a short leash, but moving made labor bearable.

As we waited for the anesthesiologist, the contractions started to get more and more intense, making me glad that I had asked for and signed the papers for an epidural. Finally, just as the anesthesiologist was walking into the room, I had THE contractions that made me so glad that I got on the list. I was breathing through them as they were placing the epidural in my back. Nick said that between getting into the room and the epidural, I went through around 12 REALLY intense contractions. I think that I was having an out of body experience because I remember the pain, but not the duration.

Once the epidural was placed and I was laying down, the pain just stopped. It was pretty freaky how fast it worked. My legs were heavy and felt like they were asleep, and I was able to feel a teeny bit of pressure "down there", but that was it. Now that I was comfortable, they checked me again and I was 9cm, and almost ready to go! The timing was perfect, because at this point, my parents had made it to Ohio and were waiting in the waiting room. I gave the OK for them to come back and say hello before the pushing started.

Before I knew it, it was time to push. The stirrups came up and these nifty little handles popped up on the bed for me to pull against. The nurse gave me instructions, deep breath in, blow it out, deep breath in and PUSH. She counted to 10 and I repeated this 3 times. Nick held one of my legs and looked down and saw our baby's head starting to show. The Dr. was on his way! I continued pushing on and off until he got there - a couple of times she asked me to stop pushing so the baby wouldn't arrive before the doctor. The competitive lunatic in me was patting myself on the back for being an awesome pusher, which is a totally irrational thought to be having under such circumstances.

The doctor walked in, got himself prepared and situated and told me to push and before I knew it, there was a baby on my chest and it was a boy. A boy. A baby. What just happened?! Nick cut the cord in one cut, making him a championship cutter, which was fitting, considering my self-proclaimed status as championship pusher and the baby was taken to be weighed and measured.

Keeping the suspense going, we texted the grandparents to come in to "meet their new grandchild". When they walked in the door, Nick and I both announced that it was a boy and their tears started flowing. Because of the epidural, I still felt fantastic and even said "that wasn't so bad, I could do that again." My mom still cracks up about that because it was about 1/2 hour after I gave birth.

Once I was cleaned up and able to move a little bit, they bundled Baby Bean up, put me in a wheel chair, handed him to me and off we went to our postpartum room to recover.

Nesting

I've heard that when you get close to having your baby, that a mysterious nesting instinct kicks in. From what I've heard in classes and from other mommies, you get this undeniable urge to clean or vacuum or something. This concerns me because I don't really EVER have the urge to clean, I don't know how to clean properly and I really don't even think I've ever used our vaccuum. Seriously. I made a deal with Nick that I'll continue to fold his never ending supply of socks, t-shirts, and underwear if he takes on cleaning. He's 100% OK with this, as am I. Win-win.

So. Back to this mysterious nesting instinct. I was wondering how mine would manifest, since cleaning is completely unnatural to me. Low and behold, mine manifested itself in the form of organization, specifically attacking the pantry and fridge yesterday afternoon.

We got back from the grocery store on Sunday and as I was putting things away, I realized that there was no way I could put one more thing into the completely disorganized pantry, filled with some expired food. What happened next was a shelf by shelf purge of EVERYTHING in the pantry. Nick stood back and watched with awe as I threw out mystery sauces and dip mixes, old dog treats and expired canned goods.

This isn't the most flattering photo of me, pregnant, and plopped on the stool, but I can still feel the gratification of that overflowing garbage can and the auxiliary garbage bags that followed.

A short list

1. Woah belly - that ruffle on my shirt really accentuates the obvious
2. This weather makes Chino act like a puppy - I love it. 
3. Every week, we take two photos of me - one by a wall and one by the stairs. It started because my mom wanted me to stand in a doorway so she could see the belly progression, but we realized that most of our doorways opened into a mess of some sort, so we substituted stairs and added Chino.
4. How is it already been 37 weeks?!?

Rules

Since Nick and I have been together, I've been working to educate him on the rules of the female species. Most of these rules are ingrained in us as women, by our mothers, who learned from their mothers, etc. These same rules are pretty ridiculous when you think of them, but rules are rules. Every time I mention one, Nick rolls his eyes at the pure ridiculousness of them. Here are some key rules that he's learned so far. They're in no particular order and some may apply solely to me, but here it goes:

1. I (and most women) don't poop in public unless its a code red, level 3 emergency. Even then, great lengths are taken to ensure that anonymity is preserved and that I'm completely alone in an acceptable, private, clean restroom.
2. If I fart in public, he did it.
3. The women's shoe department in any store is a free for all. There isn't much order, its every woman for herself.
4. I don't pee at rest areas, so don't ask.
5. Women are raunchy, but mostly in the presence of other women and no, we won't share what we talked about.
6. If its on sale, I probably need it.
7. I'm not a crier - but if it relates to my dog, all bets are off (I'm crying as I type this, thanks to a Subaru commercial involving a chocolate lab)
8. What's mine is mine and what's his is ours

And the latest rule:

If my fingers are too swollen to wear my wedding and/or engagement ring, an acceptable substitute must be purchased so that it doesn't look like I'm an unwed spinster who got knocked up after a one night stand in a country music bar. 

When I unleashed this latest one on him, he just looked at me and said, "What?" He's used to my craziness, so to catch him off-guard with this one was pretty fun. I proceeded to explain to him that this was no joke. Women looked at things like this and when they saw another pregnant woman without a ring, they judge. We can't help it. 

Why do I care? I have no idea - maybe its the ingrained rules from my mom, or maybe its instincts or maybe its because I'm guilty of the judgement for naked fingers - horrible and insensitive, I know. Regardless, when I had to take my wedding band off, I was disappointed. It means a lot and I love wearing it, but I was afraid that it would have to be cut off of me if I didn't do something. Luckily, my engagement ring was always a tad too big, so I'm able to keep it on. At least, I look like he put a ring on it after he got me knocked up. Its very celebrity, if I do say so myself.

It happened

At the beginning of my pregnancy, I was in pseudo-denial about what was going to be happening to me, to Nick and to our family. I mean, I understood that yes, I was pregnant and that came with a whole list of changes that needed to happen immediately, but in the back of my head, I wasn't comprehending WHAT was going to happen. The fact that I had "no symptoms" and that it was taking me forever to start showing was fueling my denial in what was happening. Every time I would proclaim that I had no symptoms, Nick would remind me that I had just eaten an entire bag of potato chips or that the smell of grilled pineapple made me gag. He'd also remind me that I had a ponytail holder holding my jeans together because they wouldn't button. But you know, I had no symptoms.

As the knowledge of my bun in the oven became more public, friends at work would ask how I was doing and I'd (half) jokingly reply that I was fine, happily in denial that this whole thing was happening. I'd also add that I was expecting to have some major meltdown at an inappropriate time or place, probably shortly before the baby was born. I'd "ha ha" and then go about my business. Well, after months of making this idle threat/promise - it happened. On Saturday. At Dirty Franks Hot Dog Palace.

Do I know myself or what? It was supposed to be a fun day, Nick's birthday observed. Inappropriate time. Check. We had just been seated at Dirty Franks and were about to enjoy some tasty hot dog and tater tot goodness. Inappropriate place. Check. I am around 7 1/2 months pregnant. Yep - I squeezed this in before the baby was born. Check.

I think that the emotions, nerves and preparation all caught up with me somewhere in the middle of our "Baby Care Basics" class on Saturday morning. It was a great class, but it went through a ton of information, lots of do's and don'ts and if's and what-ifs, crammed into about 3 hours. My brain was trying to absorb everything that I could, so I can be the best mom that I can be and somewhere toward the end, it reached capacity. All I was hearing was all of the things that COULD happen if I didn't follow certain precautions or guidelines. Then I was afraid that I'd forget everything that I learned and would somehow mess up this little person before it had a chance to become a little person.

After we walked out of class, I had a horrible stomach ache. On our way to Dirty Franks, I was short with Nick, very cranky. He diagnosed me as hungry (yep, he was right), but we both missed the fact that part of my stomach ache was a huge knot that was brewing. When we sit down and he asked me what was wrong, the tears started. I cried about the crib bumper (apparently a death trap), about SIDS, about the next 5 weeks, about our changing lives and about my changing body. He listened to me and told me that everything was going to be ok. I believed him, and the meltdown was over.

In retrospect, I'm glad that the meltdown happened, as expected and that it was in a public place. Had it been in the car or at home, it would have turned into one of those cries that doesn't stop...you know the kind that happens when watching Beaches, by yourself, after a couple of glasses of wine? I don't know if there is meltdown, round 2, waiting to surface, but for now, I feel a little better and am now back to being focused on our new life that's about to happen.

Dear Baby,

If the old wives' tales that are apparently scientific fact are true, then you are going to be born with a full head of hair. If you're a girl, that means that the battles with your Daddy will start early as I try to accessorize you with bows and headbands. If you're a boy, then you're in luck because you're dodging a bullet there. My eating routine is now revolving around what will or will not give me heartburn and when I can eat so that I'm able to sleep without getting up in the middle of night to chug milk from the bottle (it has happened).

Apparently, you're just like me in that you like to eat lightly seasoned food, mostly carbs and no spices or tomatoes. Choosing meals has become a bit of a game with your Daddy and I as he tries to guess what I want to eat at the moment, all while taking into account the probability that whatever we choose will cause heartburn. My go-to dinner lately has been cereal, which you definitely approve of.  I'm not 100% sure if the heartburn is caused by the food I eat or the amount that I eat or caused by your potentially full head of hair.

Believe me, it takes a lot to be sure that you're growing big and strong, but things are getting crowded in there, so my portions have to be smaller and more frequent. I constantly carry a bag of cereal with me and try to have milk on hand at all times, since those seem to alleviate heartburn the best. I've been lucky that I haven't had to feed you any Tums. Mostly that's my stubbornness because I hate taking medicine of any kind. Ask your Daddy about that. It drives him crazy.

We just finished lunch, which was the other 1/2 of a chicken salad croissant and some potato chips. You must approve, because you're going crazy in my belly right now. I keep feeling you kick and squirm and move around, which is very different than the hiccups that you get when I drink something cold.

Its been totally surreal, getting to know your personality before I meet you and guessing at the baby that you'll be when I do. These small details are the ones that I don't want to forget.

Love,
Momma