Life Goes On

Have you ever noticed that people in the blogging world hardly ever speak negatively about their significant others? Despite the fact that most of the blogs I follow include really emotional topics, such as infertility, pregnancy, new parenthood…I never read about the true pain and struggles that go on in the relationships behind the scene. All I ever see is most people referring to their partners as “supportive,” “caring” or “kind.” Sometimes, we might make jokes about him being “clueless” or just “not getting it.” Or, in a really negative moment, we might say we’re “frustrated” with our other half. But really people? Is everything really that sitcom-perfect?

I’m calling bullshit.

Now, before I go on, I have to admit that I’m guilty of it too. I try not to badmouth B on my blog – partially because he READS it and partially maybe because I just want everyone to think I have the best husband ever. But the truth is, relationships involve two people who are real and human. Everyone pisses each other off sometimes. Right? So this post is about being in a REAL relationship. Wait, strike that. This post is about being in a REAL relationship while pregnant.

Way back when I was barely six weeks or so pregnant I wrote a post about lying in bed next to B and feeling irrationally emotional. At the time I thought it might be pregnancy hormones making me act that way (insert ironic laugh), but now I realize it was just me. Last night was a flashback to that night. Except, last night? Last night I think was definitely pregnancy hormones. Remember when I naively said in my review of the second trimester that I haven’t been having mood swings? Well I must have jinxed myself because I swear I’ve been an emotional mess ever since.

Last night was no exception. I was lying in bed, propped up on pillows trying to get comfortable and find a position in which I could breathe but wouldn’t feel the knife-stab of pain between my shoulder blades and I started to get irrational. No, that’s not true. It started ok. I asked B how he was feeling, because he had been feeling a bit off all day. He said he was fine. I sat there a moment longer. Then the irrationality set in. I started wondering why he never asks me how I’m doing. I mean, I’m the one who’s pregnant here, right? Why doesn’t he check in with me more? Ask me if I need anything? If there’s anything he can do for me?

At this point I should backtrack a bit and explain that I maybe-just-maybe had unrealistic views of what it would be like to be pregnant. I imagined an overly attentive husband who would be running out to the store to buy things for me, rubbing my back, looking at me with concern and adoration, and basically worshipping me because I was carrying his baby. HA. Where did I learn about this silly little stereotype? The truth is, life goes on. Life cannot pause for nine months simply because there is a baby in my belly. B still has to work – and he works hard. I still have to work and go about my day to day life and no one can do that for me. Basically, we have to continue living our lives.

But still. Lying in the dark last night, I was stuck on the fact that he never even asks me how I’m feeling at the end of a hard day. So I said it out loud. ”How come you never ask me how I’m feeling?” This is where my husband gets less-than-perfect, because he says back, ”I ask you all the time. You just have a terrible memory and your memory can’t extend past whatever feeling you’re currently having.”

So obviously that didn’t sit well with me. I asked him if he wanted to get in a fight and if that was why he said that. Luckily, he chose that moment to get up and go do something in the kitchen. Smart guy. When he got back, I was still seething. I let that fact be known by lots of sighs and irritated movements such as thumping my head back against the pillow or wrestling with blankets. I am so mature. Then, somehow it rapidly switched from anger to self-pity and I found myself doing a lot of sniffing and tears and feeing pathetic.

Then, I felt B’s hand on my arm. No words, nothing more, just a hand on my arm. So, I of course started to cry more. Then, he put his hand awkwardly on my face and started awkwardly wiping at my cheeks like a baby who doesn’t have fine motor control. What the hell? He was basically swatting at my cheeks? So I said, ”What the hell?” And then he started laughing and then I started laughing and then, somehow, we just started talking about random things, like what my sister was up to recently or how annoying my boss is.

And that, my loyal readers, is how a fight ends in a REAL relationship. No dramatic, wrap-up, perfect-solution ending. It just ends and life goes on. And we’re fine. Everything is fine. I can stop being such an emotional mess (yeah right) and maybe he can start checking in with me more because I’m sure, somehow, he got the subtle message that his wife may need more attention in the third trimester. And then? Life goes on. Even when you’re pregnant. Even when you’re pregnant and your back hurts.

Update: After I finished writing this, I realized, irony of all ironies, that today is our anniversary. Eight years married. We don’t have any major plans, we’re both exhausted, B is sick, and he leaves to go on a business trip tomorrow. We decided to watch movies on the couch together tonight and then do a nice dinner on our Labor Day trip to Napa. But it leaves me with the question: do I post a less-than-glowing post about our relationship on our anniversary?? I decided the answer is yes. Because, this post is not just about having a real relationship with real arguments and frustrations, it is also about how real relationships weather time because you don’t get too caught up in the small stuff and instead focus on the strong base you’ve built that keeps you going even when you just want to scream at each other. Sometimes maybe you just need to place a hand on the other person’s arm to remind them of that.

Second Update: Look what showed up at my office after I posted this post! Happy Anniversary Flowers. I really DO have the BEST husband EVER. Just sayin'.

Kernels of Melodramatic Mediocrity

Tonight was a fail.

Earlier today things were pretty good. We were going shopping for a Rocker. I think we found one, but that's not really the story here. We ended up at an adorable store that does handmade children's furniture. Aside from picking out our potential Rocker, we went a little crazy picking up odds and ends - custom ordered wood paintings in our color scheme, adorable children's books, and cute little vintage-style puzzles that baby cannot use until he's probably six but are adorable decorations in the meantime. The best part? B got really excited and involved and ran around the store picking things out. I was so excited to see him picking out "little boy things" that featured monsters and dinosaurs and robots... I myself was looking at elephants and giraffes. It's good that our baby has his Dad to pick out boy-stuff for him.

So we spent a lot of money and I was happy. Hmmm....is there something wrong with that sentence?

Fabric for the custom Rocker I think we're going to order...

Then we came home and did our own things for awhile until it was time for dinner. Now, I've had pork loins dethawed in the fridge for days now that I keep getting too lazy to cook and I decided tonight was the night I was going to get off my lazy ass and actually make a real dinner. I mean, I used to cook exciting, unique, balanced meals every night. I can handle this. Tonight's menu was panko-crusted ginger wasabi pork chops with sauteed boy choy and onions over brown rice. Seriously, not a hard dinner to cook.

But, let's stop for a little caveat here. I don't do brown rice. First, because I like white rice so much better. But mostly because I have never been able to cook it successfully. When I get brown rice from a restaurant it is fluffy and flavorful and the perfect consistency. When I cook it? Tastes like eating raw popcorn seeds. So, I googled how to make perfect brown rice. This, apparently, is like going down the rabbit hole of How to Hardboil An Egg (seriously, google it, you will find 3004 widely different answers as to how to boil an egg). Well, I found a recipe on Skinnytaste.com and since I love everything I've made from her website, I decided to trust her. Even though her recipe varied significantly from anything I'd ever done before (it features boiling the rice for 30 minutes and then "steaming it" for 20 more).

Ok, all is going well. I am panko-ing the pork chops and chopping bok choy when B decides that now would be a great time to start decorating the nursery. Now guys, right now I am completely pathetic and anything to do with the nursery is my favorite thing in the world. Sitting in it? Sign me up. Planning it? Of course? Moving things around in there? Definitely. Actually decorating it? HELL YES.

But damnit, he started doing things right when I'm at the crucial cooking moment when everything needs to happen at once and, in my world, everything also starts to go to hell at once. So here I am, wondering why the pork chops are burning, spilling soy sauce and sherry on myself and screaming to B, "What are you hanging and where?!?" As I hear him start up the drill. I am running back and forth between sauteeing and supervising nursery decorating and meanwhile my brown rice is steaming itself and I am imagining fluffy kernels of yumminess.

But...No. B wants to hang things where I don't want them. My pork chops are seriously burning. B is moving furniture around. Didn't we agree that's not where we'd put it?? I don't have any peanut oil, damnit! B drops something and it breaks. I DON'T HAVE ANY WASABI!

And then, finally, dinner is done. My rice...should be done. But, have I checked it yet? Um no. Don't you know you shouldn't check rice when it's cooking or you interrupt some sacred heat-steam ratio? So, I check it. YEP. Dry, hard, popcorn kernels. Not rice. Raw rice. Gritty grains of brownness. Fuck. And the pork chops? Well, they smell good...let me just slice into them and...FUCK. "Browned" (aka almost burnt) panko-encrusted on the outside, raw on the inside. Great it will go wonderfully with the uncooked rice! And what the hell is he moving around in the nursery???

Enter me into nursery. "The pork chops are ruined!! The rice is a disaster!! I am a failure! WHY IS THAT BOOKSHELF IN THAT CORNER??!?"

B blinks at me. "Uh, should we just have pasta for dinner?"

At this point I just wanted to scream. I may have. I can't remember.

Long story short, we were able to salvage the pork chops and had a semi-decent low-carb dinner of sliced crispy pork with sauteed bok choy and onions. It tasted...like mediocrity. Monte benefited from the rice disaster and had his regular dinner mixed in with crispy brown rice and pork drippings. And the nursery? It's a work in progress.

This is what B was hanging from the ceiling tonight. We may buy 1-2 more in differing sizes.

Playing the Calendar Game

Welcome to the Three Month Countdown. I am about to admit something embarrassing to you guys. In the past few weeks I have started playing this compulsive game with myself. It's called Calendar-Checking. Calendar-Checking is a really fun game and so easy to learn. All you do is grab a smart phone, open your calendar App, and gaze at the next three months. Really, you don't do much more than that. You just...look. You may "check" to confirm that such-and-such event is still securely planned for the 24th, or that this or that is definitely happening on the 15th. Or, you might engage in the most fun behavior of all...staring at the 31st of October, trying to imagine how you'll be feeling when that day arrives. If played correctly, this game induces a trance-like state of daydreaming and imagination. But frankly, it's just weird.

Let me tell you what I'm staring at.

August - Event-Packed Month. I may have bit off more than I can chew for the month of August. I am six months pregnant and you really can't tell from looking at my social calendar. Aside from the ongoing dog chemo appointments, midwife appts, dentist appts, Intro to Hypnobirthing, and little things like that, we have a few major things going on this month.

First, next weekend we are making a five hour drive up to Sacramento just for a quick weekend trip. Everyone keeps telling me I'm crazy. Drive five hours one way just for the weekend? But I have four really good friends who live up there (two couples) and I've been meaning to go up and visit them for a long time. I am not the best at maintaining long distance friendships and these are really important to me, so I'm making an effort. I figure it's only going to get harder after baby comes.

Then, on the 15th, we have our appointment with the Perinatalogist. This isn't like a big "event" in that it takes a lot of time or planning, but I am SO excited for it so it deserves mentioning. With the switch to the midwives, we don't get ultrasounds at appointments anymore, so I haven't seen Baby since he was 19 weeks. This time he will be 29 weeks. I know the purpose of the appointment is to find out if my placenta has risen up and I am somewhat anxious about that (but feeling positive and hopeful/excited to get good news), but really I am just so psyched to see how much he's grown and hopefully get a good 3D pic.

On the 24th, we have our Baby Shower. This merits a whole post of its own regarding the planning process, etc. But, long story short, I am really excited about it. We are doing a low-key, co-ed Shower with no baby games or baby decorations. Just a lot of people sitting outside at a park enjoying food, alcohol, and each other's company. Oh, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to the gifts!

Labor Day Weekend. Now this is another thing that you might think we're crazy about. But if you've been reading this blog you will know that I have been less than satisfied with living in LA lately and, on top of that, I am someone who loves to dream about the future. After our recent trip home to Montana, we started to dream more and more about relocating. So, over Labor Day, we are going to throw the dog in the car and hit the road to drive up North to Napa/Sonoma/Santa Rosa area and just...explore. We will have NO agenda, NO hotel bookings, and NO idea where we'll end up. We just want to explore and dream a little. I am so excited. But...really....a five day road trip at seven months pregnant? Oh, and no hotel reservations? Over Labor Day? With a dog?? Yep. Crazy. I can't wait.

September - Preparation Month . In the month of September, we have no crazy road trips planned. I promise. Instead, it will be devoted to two main things to prep for baby. First, we have classes, classes, and more classes. Every Saturday for the whole month we are attending a Childbirthing class put on by our clinic. Then, we have Breastfeeding, Childcare and possibly Hypnobirthing to fit in (still not sure if we'll do the whole Hypnobirthing series). Oh, and I want to also register for an Infant CPR class. I am going to be super-educated and prepared.

The other main preparation project for September is the Nursery. We will see what we got at the Shower and then purchase whatever is left on the Registry/whatever crazy things I decide we need last minute. We'll put the nursery together (can't wait!) and start on prepping the entire house. By that I mean, last minute projects like clearing out the closet in the nursery, sweeping dust out of places that have been dusted in years, finding a place in the kitchen for bottles and baby stuff, and just completing last minute stuff.

October - Waiting Month. I want to have everything done before October hits. We'll see if that happens, but I really just want to be ready. Not for any paranoid reason like he may come early or whatever, but I just want to feel - done and ready. Then I can use the month to just sit, wait, and psychologically prepare (aka freak out). I will leave work two weeks before the official due date and just focus on relaxing and giving myself some down time.

So that's it. Guess what? If you read through all of this, you unwittingly played the Calendar-Checking Game with me. Fun, isn't it? No? Hmm. Maybe you have to be six months pregnant and a bit anxiety-driven to fully appreciate it.

Tell me, what are YOUR plans for the next three months? Or, if you're pregnant, what are your plans prior to baby's arrival? Does anyone else play their own version of the Calendar Game or are you just more of a take-it-as-it-comes kinda gal? Come on...share!

Second Trimester in Review

Today I hit the third trimester!! (Well, by most calculations...why is it so hard to nail down a clear answer?) I've heard everything from "the last trimester just FLIES by" to "Oh my god it drags on forever." So we'll see I guess. My mood vacillates given on the moment. Somedays I am like a kid at Christmas time and literally cannot wait for the day to get here. Other days I am in shock about how much everything is going to change and I am perfectly fine with waiting.

In honor of starting a new trimester I am going to do a review of the second trimester, just like I did for the first. But I promise this won't drag on into two posts like I did with the first trimester because, frankly, the second trimester is so much easier and better than the first! At least, it was for me.

So here we go...

Emotions. My emotions played a huge role in the first trimester. Without getting into all of that again, let's just say it was awful. In the second? Well, aside from one pure week of hell surrounding our Mexico incident, I've been as close to rainbows and cupcakes as you can get while pregnant. In other words, I've been happy! It's great to walk around being pregnant and feeling good. I don't think I've had major mood swings (maybe ask people around me) and overall I've felt pretty stable. Not too anxious, not too stressed, and pretty much even keel. Now, I've had my days...but those happen even when we're not pregnant, right?

Movement I started feeling movement consistently and strongly right around 19 weeks. Before that it was weird little burbles that left me asking, "Was that....?" After 19 weeks it continued to build until I was able to discern his patterns and pick out the places I usually can feel him. I have been a bit more stressed about movement as I've moved farther on because you start hearing about these frightening things called "kick counts." Just another way to torture ourselves I think. I've noticed that every two days or so he goes through quieter periods where we doesn't move as much for 1-2 days and when he does move, its a deeper, thrumming movement somewhere inside my pelvis. Then he pops out and goes back to kicking my side. My theory is that this is because of my anterior placenta and those quieter days are when he's hiding out back there. I still haven't had any kicks that actually hurt or are uncomfortable in any way. Either that's also placenta-related, or he's just a polite guy. Sometimes they do interrupt my sentences though and then I just look at my belly and smile like an idiot. Lastly, I should say one of my favorite things he does is that, during my therapy sessions, he likes to click my right elbow as it rests on my stomach. It's like a secret conversation that no one else knows is happening.

Braxton Hicks. Not sure exactly when these started, but I do remember having them right after the Mexico incident (19-20 weeks) because I was terrified that they were signs of preterm labor. Now, I think they were stress-induced, because they then subsided for a long time and started up again a few weeks ago. Now I notice them on days when I'm tired, been on my feet a lot, or just need a break. They feel like a hard, tightening feeling running across my lower belly. Sometimes I can even feel a ridge along my stomach. Drinking water doesn't seem to help too much, but getting up and walking around seems to make it go away. So does peeing.

Speaking of peeing.... I'm sure I don't need to explain to anyone (pregnant or not), that this becomes a huge part of my life. Now, earlier in the pregnancy I was definitely peeing more often. But now, it's not just more often, but it's so much more intense. As in, I need to go RIGHT NOW or my stomach may split open. Ow. And then, you go, and it can be a disappointing trickle. Or, it could be a torrent of urine that literally is such a great release that you compare it to having an orgasm. Yep. Really. The point is, you have no idea whether your bladder literally is going to explode or it's just messing with you. Both feel exactly the same.

Sleeping. Still speaking of peeing....my bladder plays a huge role in my sleep cycle, for obvious reasons. Sleeping started to get a bit uncomfortable around 20 weeks or so. I began having to prop myself up with pillows or my chest felt compressed. Now I have the Comfort-U pillow, which I love. That pretty much solved the problem....for awhile. But now, as I enter the third trimester, sleep just keeps getting harder and harder. I'm not really sure if it continues at this rate how I will be sleeping at all by the end? Here's why it's so hard: There are the obvious reasons like your stomach getting in the way, your bladder filling to painful brimming level every 15 minutes, and your back aching from a long day. But then there is also pressure in my chest, breathlessness, dizziness, sore hips, sore buttocks (seriously), restless legs (terrible), and leg cramps. I have a pattern now. I start on my left side (as you're supposed to), then I switch to my right side. Then, my hips and legs start to hurt so badly that it wakes me up. So then I switch to sitting up. I've propped up about 3 pillows on TOP of the Comfort-U pillow that allows me to sit up and sleep. Then, I repeat the 3 positions. Simple, right? The only plus side to this is, once I've gotten into a comfortable position, my husband will take pity on me and bring me things I realize I've forgotten. Like a glass of water. Or a bowl of pasta. Ha.

Back Pain I mentioned that back pain is one of the reasons sleeping is hard. I've been having back pain since the beginning of the second trimester. Since before I even really looked pregnant. It's not the typical back pain most women talk about - in their lower backs. Mine instead is right between my shoulder blades, right at bra level. Sometimes it switches from right to left side slightly, but it's always this intense, burning pain that feels like someone is jabbing a knife into my back. I thought maybe my bras were too small, but that's not it. (In case you're wondering, I'm now somewhere between a 34DD and a 36D. Awesome!) I think it's just something to do with my fucked up posture. So I try to wedge small pillows between my upper back when driving or sitting at my desk and this seems to help. Know what else would help?? A Chiropractor! I have one all lined up that specializes in pregnant women, but I can't seem to find the time to call. Hmm.

Breathlessness This isn't a big deal, but I have definitely noticed that my uterus has started sharing rib cage room with my lungs. I mean, really, lungs aren't that important, right? They can get out of my uterus's way, right? Related to the back pain, I feel sometimes feel like there is a tight band going all the way around from my back to my chest, like I'm wearing a bra even when I'm not. I think this is my rib cage expanding and making it harder for me to breathe. Also, to make it more intense, the midwife pointed out that my blood pressure is really low (not sure how low), and so this is likely contributing to the breathlessness/dizziness I get sometimes.

Energy Compared to the first trimester? I am an Energizer Bunny! Compared to normal life? Not so much. I mean, I'm still pregnant here. There may have been a 3-4 week span in the middle where I felt "normal," but that was sandwiched between still feeling sick and tired at the beginning and now feeling tired again at the end. But really, it hasn't been that bad. I don't fall asleep at my desk anymore. I go to bed around 11 or 12 most nights and I feel...good when I wake up. And this all without coffee. Which I miss very, very badly. I think I notice the energy drain most on days when I either work too many hours or try to do too many errands in one day. That's when I remember - hey! I'm pregnant!

Relationship. For the first trimester, I talked a lot about the toll it had taken on my relationship. As if I wasn't even present at all...I was a non-person. Now, it's much, much better. I feel like B and I can talk again, have good conversations again, and just be together again. That being said, B pointed out to me that it's not "quite the same." I've already transitioned somehow into being more focused on Baby than on Us. And even though I feel like I am more present and more energetic, I may be exaggerating in my own mind, according to B's perspective. We also go on fewer "dates." We used to go out to really nice dinners quite often and run away on weekend get-aways. Now, we go buy cribs and such. So...it's different. We both agreed that we feel extremely close and connected to each other, but in a different way. We feel like we're building something. Rather than just enjoying the Two of Us.

Sex. And definitely related to how our relationship is different, I would be remiss to not talk about sex. Pregnant sex. Pregnant sex after major horrific bleeding episode. Not so fun. Really, it's not. First of all, the sad thing is, right when we were in Mexico (before the horror), I had started to feel physically better and was getting my sex drive back (Hooray!). Which equaled a lot of great sex and enjoyment of my new D-cup breasts. But then....enter terrible bleeding episode. All thoughts of sex stopped (even though we were told it likely had not contributed to the bleeding). That happened at 19 weeks. We didn't have sex again until...I dunno, five weeks later? And even then, it's...well, it's not the same. The fear plays a role in making the sex more...gentle and g-rated. It also keeps me somewhat removed, not 100% present. Then, the belly just, well, it just gets in the way. So, sex is "fine." What does this do to our relationship? Well, it definitely doesn't spice it up...

Random Symptoms. And now for a few randoms... Let's see...I have really long, strong and awesome fingernails and hair. So that's cool. I've had some periods of minor constipation which seems to be cured by the Magnesium Citrate the midwives recommended (which also helps with the restless legs and leg cramps I mentioned). My vision seems not as good as normal (and my normal is terrible), but my What to Expect App assures me that actually IS normal. I am really jumpy. I've been this way since really early on in the pregnancy. I jump and shriek at any little noise. I attribute this to my poor heart beating harder to pump all of that blood. Oh! And I have a very faint Linea Nigra. I'll try to post a picture. We were laying in bed one morning and B says, "Um, why do you have a line running down your entire stomach?" So yeah, that's there. And that's about it.

So there you have it. Compared to the first trimester, all of these symptoms don't even hit the radar. Ok, well, maybe the sleeping issues are getting pretty hard, but even that just doesn't compare to all of the shit I went through in the first trimester (first 18 weeks really). In the last few weeks, I've started to get glimpses that the third trimester may not be so blissful, so I've got my fingers crossed that it won't get that terrible. But, luckily, if it does, I have an exit plan to leave work 4 weeks early and just lay around on the couch like a useless piece of blah.

Let me just end by saying I am really, really excited to be in the third trimester. I keep telling people in the Real World that I'm hitting the third trimester and they say things like, "Well that still means you have three more months left, right?" Oh, they just don't get it. This is a big deal. That much closer to baby. That much closer to a time when preterm labor wouldn't be the end-all, be-all. That much closer to your life changing forever.

Side Note: After I wrote this post, I went to lunch with a friend and mentor. I thought it would be a lunch to play catch up and discuss professional goals, but it turned into something I hadn't expected. My friend is a lesbian in her late 30s and has been trying for some time to get pregnant (not sure exactly how long). About a year ago she lost a baby early on. Today she told me she is 11 weeks along with twins!! So, so happy for her. Just wanted to share :)

The Value of Maternity Leave

So last week I went to HR to try to figure out my maternity leave. I had no idea what to expect because I had been told everything from six weeks to six months of leave. I was (obviously) hoping for the six months. The meeting was very, very strange. It was myself, three other very pregnant women, and a very strange little man who seemed to lack basic social and communication skills. He walked us through a one hour long powerpoint presentation during which we asked tons of questions and I became more and more confused.

At the end of it, I asked him, “So you’re saying we can take UP TO six months off, but that 'it depends?'”

He nodded. “Exactly!”

"But, 'it depends' on what?”

"On what your doctor recommends after the birth."

"But how will I know what she's going to recommend before it happens?? What do doctors typically recommend?"

"Welllll I can't really say. Some women only take six weeks, some are able to extend their leave much longer."

Me: “Listen, take the money out of it, just tell me how long I can take off, without losing my job?”

Him: “It depends.”

Me: "So you’re trying me that when my clients ask when we’ll resume therapy, I should tell them, 'it depends??'

Him, smiling: "Pretty much!"

Basically, I walked out feeling like an idiot. I mean, I have a Ph.D. and I could not figure out for the life of me, how long I will be having off nor how much I will be getting paid while I’m gone (if anything!). After more research of my own, this is what I came up with: I can take four weeks off prior to the birth and then six weeks off after (8 weeks if c-section, but I’m not planning on that!). If there are any “complications,” my post-birth time can be extended up to 16 weeks. This is all covered under Pregnancy Disability Leave. Don’t ask me what I’ll get paid exactly during this time, but I’ll be paid something. THEN, I can take Family Medical Leave (covered under California Family Rights Act) for another 12 weeks. So, if you take the total amount of time off, it equals six months. Unfortunately, according to my midwife, by the very nature of having a baby at a birth center, I am a “low risk” birth, which means highly unlikely there will be complications to extend the disability leave. Which leaves me instead with the minimum, which is 18 weeks (4.5 months).

Now I know that’s not bad, and that’s better than what a lot of women get, but damnit, I wanted my six months off. I wanted six months to just be with my baby and to not have to work and not have to think about things other than just…being. So, frankly, I was disappointed. I’ve heard from co-workers who somehow miraculously extended their leave while out, simply by calling in and saying they didn’t “feel ready” to come back yet, but I’m not sure I’m ballsy enough to do that. I’m such a rule follower. If, after 4.5 months, I’m emotionally and physically ready to come back, I can’t imagine bending the truth to say I’m not??

As I was voicing my frustration to B that I wanted my full six months off, he looked at me in disbelief and said, “You realize you’re trying to work the system right? You’re trying to say you have a disability that makes it so you need to be paid to not work?” I thought this was interesting. First of all, I’m lucky enough that we’re in a position that if I had to take the full time un-paid, we could work it out. So no, I’m not trying to extend disability pay. I just want time with my baby and then have a job to come back to. But it did really get me thinking. Why does the state pay women disability to have a baby? Why isn’t it just recognized as a needed time to bond with your baby? Why is the US so backwards in this?

Also, I started realizing that me pouting over an extra 1.5 months is ridiculous. Many women only get six weeks off and many more don’t even get that. So, even though my 18 weeks off is protected through the federal and state programs, it only applies to you if you are lucky enough to work at a large enough establishment to provide you with this luxury. Additionally, your disability pay is figured based on a percentage of your salary. So this too is imbalanced and pushes some women to go back earlier simply because it is impossible to live off of their disability pay check. Now, I’m not political at all and I am quite ignorant when it comes to comparing political systems, so not sure if I’m arguing for socialism or communism or WHAT here, but doesn’t it seem that birth should be universally recognized as something that all families should be able to take the time to celebrate it?

Then I thought, “Well huh, in a way, it is interesting how much birth actually is recognized as something valued in our society.” Because, if we look at the flip side of things, the fact that federal programs protect maternity leave says something, doesn’t it? It says that we are going to give women the luxury to take time off in order to do a very important thing – bond with their baby. You don’t get six weeks off for other major life events – marriage, divorce, not even a death in the family. (Although, yes I know you can use family leave for these things, but there is no specific Divorce Disability Leave Act).

So what does this date back to? Why does society still recognize having a baby as something special that deserves to be given its due time? Honestly, I think it relates to the fact that, unconsciously, human beings understand that on a spiritual, biological and evolutionary level, having babies is freaking important. If we didn’t reproduce, we’d be screwed. So, even though people try to talk about it in terms of intellectual or metaphysical or god-knows-what terms to define it, I think at some level we as humans, regardless of culture, recognize that babies are very important and the mothers carrying those babies deserve some respect.

Also, I think it’s a nod to something that most people really don’t realize consciously, but again, maybe at some unconscious level. The fact is, for a woman to get pregnant and carry a baby to term, SO many things have to go right. SO many variables have to be exactly right. I mean, not to sound religious here, but it really is a miracle. Sometimes we take it for granted. But…it’s absolutely amazing when you think about all that happens to create that baby. So maybe, in its own not-so-sufficient way, the United States of America is recognizing that miracle by granting women six weeks off to recognize it.

So, to go full circle, I still am depressed that I can’t “work the system” to get my full six months off, but I realize that I am lucky to even have my 4.5 months. And…I’ll take it. I’ve worked my entire life, from high school on, and so I will cherish those 18 weeks and appreciate them. Even if I’m exhausted and cranky the whole time. Oh, and since I’m not even sure yet what money I’ll be getting paid, I’ll cherish whatever small paycheck shows up in the mail as well!

A Grey Place

First of all, I want to respond to comments on my last two posts.

I really loved everyone's comments on my post about what purpose blogging serves for us. I was surprised by how much everyone responded to this post and had so much to say about it. I think I hit on something close to us all and everyone wanted to share their own reasons for doing this. What is interesting is, it seems that most of us started blogging in order to find a community of people with similar interests or similar struggles. A way of connection. What does that say about whether we're disconnected from people in our non-virtual lives? I think it likely has to do with the fact that we all entered specific phases in our lives and the people around us just weren't going through the same things. I too started the blog as an outlet for my thoughts so as not to overwhelm those around me with my own obsessions. And, like many of you, I was pleasantly surprised by how supportive and helpful it was to find other people through my blog. Finally, most people said they like reading blogs where the voice is "real." I completely agree. I think blogs that are more personal, less structured, and put some thought (just some, not much is needed) into their reading style are the ones who attract me the most.

I also want to respond to comments on my last post about my recent midwife appointment. After reading the comments, I had to go back and re-read the post. Many of your comments made me realize that, first of all, I am terrible at writing sarcasm. I don't have anything against kale and I definitely don't have anything against baby wearing. I already know I'm going to spend way too much money on wraps and carriers. Also, my midwife wasn't really that bad. She didn't really mention chakras or energy fields or anything that bad. That's just me being sarcastic. B says I have a tendency to exaggerate. Apparently in text it doesn't translate well. So, when your comments prompted me to re-read my post, I realized...wow, what is wrong with me? I chose this approach on purpose. The only reason the midwives give me a hard time about my diet is for my own good. They are very clear that my baby is fine and is getting all the nutrients I need. They just want me to feel energetic and healthy. Soooo was all of that teasing and those jaded comments really necessary? Maybe I should shush the skeptical side of me and accept the fact that people are just trying to help me. I know I won't always succeed in this, because I do have a duality to my personality, but I'm glad I re-read my post, because it gives me something to work on. By the way, I did not make a smoothie this morning. But I did buy one from Jamba Juice. I made sure it had only fruit (no sherbet or ice cream) and I had them add whey protein. But (sigh) I couldn't bear to add the Kale.

Whatever made me so jaded on Wednesday is still going on this morning. I woke up in a grey place. I just couldn't bring myself to care. Getting dressed? Ha. Ended up with black leggings and a long black tank top that makes me look like I'm going to yoga. Threw a long wrap and a sparkly necklace on and now I just look like a person who did some yoga and then dressed it up a bit. I couldn't bother to make a lunch or a breakfast this morning because I didn't care (thus Jamba Juice and a bagel). Before I left the house, I crawled back into bed with B and just felt like crying. So stupid. Nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong. I just feel so over getting up and going to work. I really only have a bit over two months left of work and so I just feel completely unmotivated and unfocused. I know that's not fair to my clients and I do care about leaving them all in a good place before I end, but I could care less about meetings or paperwork or my colleagues. Wow, I sound like a spoiled brat. I think...I think I'm just tired.

Have I mentioned that no one ever talks about how freaking hard pregnancy is??

And I should say that this is no where near as hard as the first trimester. That was pure hell. I'm feeling okay, really. A bit of nausea creeps back in the mornings. My back is sore in the evenings. I am having a lot more trouble sleeping at night. But really, overall, I feel fine. And I like being pregnant. It's just hard today I guess.

Sorry for the dreary Friday morning blahness. I hope you all are having a better morning than I am. Please have a mocha for me and send me some positive thoughts to stop being such a prima donna. OH, hey, here's a positive: Less than 100 more days until I meet my little boy!

Have Some Kale With That....

Disclaimer: Back when I was agonizing about whether to switch from OB care to the midwife model I explained how there are two sides to me. There is the hippie, granola girl who was raised by my liberal parents. And then there is the side of me who seeks rationality, research and, as B puts it, "proceduralism." Those two sides have clashed when it comes to my prenatal care. But, when I realized the OB care model encompassed 6-7 minutes of clinical care and the midwife model focuses on holistic, supportive care, the scales tipped. In this post, however, I am afraid to say that the skeptic in me wins out.

We had our most recent midwife appointment yesterday. We arrived a bit early, I peed on the stick to test my protein (at this clinic, you test your own protein...feels like a bit too much responsibility to me), and then we sat down to wait. A few minutes later, a Mommy and Me class finished up and a horde of women flooded into the clinic. B dubbed them the "backwards-backpack-baby-wearing-mafia." I tried to explain to him that they are called "baby carriers," but he was stuck on the "backwards-backpack-baby-wearing-mafia." To his credit, when a woman walked in wearing a Maya Wrap, he said "Oooh, those are cool, let's get one of those."

I instantly stereotyped the women and fit them into cliche categories in my mind. I think it was in reaction to the fact that I instantly felt so "out of the club." Not only did I not have a backwards-baby-backpack (or the baby to go in it), but I felt too uptight, not cool enough, and too out of touch with my "mommyhood."

Overheard conversations from the Mommy Mafia:

Mom 1: "What have you been up to lately?"
Mom 2: "Oh you know, just Being A Mom. I've had such good energy lately..."

Mom 3: How have you been feeling?
Mom 4 (pregnant and holding a two-year-old): Oh, so much better since I hit the 2nd trimester!
Mom 3: It's too bad, I was wanting to start your pilates class again...
Mom 4: Oh no, I'm totally still teaching the class. With my last baby, I taught right up until delivery!!"

Receptionist to Mom who was buying Acai-berry-granola clusters: "Oh my god aren't these SOOO addicting??"

Then the midwife wandered out of the mafia crowd. She is a midwife we haven't met before, newly licensed, and I tried not to extend my judgement to her based on her newness. From the start, I didn't click with her as well as the last midwife. She was just a bit more stilted. But still very calm and steady and nice. We discussed braxton hicks contractions (yes, I'm having those), signs of pre-term labor (nope, not having those), and maternity leave (ugh, that is an entirely different post). Oh, we also discussed movement. Is this stressful to anyone else? I sometimes don't feel him as much and then I get a bit nervous. I asked if this could be due to my anterior placenta. I feel like some days he hangs out back behind it and then I don't notice him as much and then other days he lays crosswise and he is unavoidable (for example, he loves to kick my right elbow when it rests on my stomach during therapy sessions. it's a fun little secret conversation that my clients don't know is happening). But this is where I felt like her "newly licensed status" maybe didn't serve me as well. Instead of saying "oh it's fine! that's totally normal!", I feel like I got a more textbook response about drinking sugary juice to get him moving, calling if concerned, etc, etc. Oh well.

THEN we covered my favorite topic - diet. If you remember from my last midwife appointment, the midwife got on my case a bit for how much pasta I've been eating. And I.....well, I got a bit defensive. Ha. Everytime you go in they ask you what you had to eat that day. Unfortunately, yesterday I failed miserably in eating healthy. I had a breve hot chocolate and a chocolate croissant for breakfast, canned Progresso soup for lunch, and snacked on grapes, tomatoes, popcorn and a peach. Not terrible, but not great. The midwife practically cringed in horror. So I immediately started trying to explain what I eat on a normal basis and even B jumped in to say, "Yes really, she normally eats much healthier..." But she just "Hmmmed" a lot at us and looked concerned. Then she came out with her profound recommendation to change my life - "You should start having a smoothie for breakfast every morning. When I was pregnant, I would combine some yogurt, fruit, protein powder, and almond or coconut milk to make a great smoothie. Oh, and you should definitely throw some Kale in. Kale is wonderful. It will really help you so much. "

Ok, guys, let me tell you how I feel about Kale. It's fine. It's a leafy green vegetable, halfway between spinach and broccoli that I am totally fine with eating. But, unlike most LA residents, I don't think Kale will cure all health problems and bring me inner peace. I swallowed my annoyance about the Kale and suggested that I'm not really a "breakfast person." (Funnily enough, Amanda at Poppies and Ice Cream asked me to write a post about breakfast. You can read more about how my relationship with breakfast is tentative at best.) She frowned at me and rambled on a bit more about how easy it is to make a smoothie and how Kale will rearrange my inner chakras or something and then I just couldn't help myself and so I asked, "But my typical breakfast is greek yogurt with fresh berries and granola mixed in. Is that really so different than a smoothie?" Apparently, it is.

Then, we got to my favorite part of the appointment. Where we play with my belly and listen to the heartbeat. But, even that was a bit disappointing. First of all, she didn't feel around as much and didn't tell me how he was laying in my uterus (pout). Then, she thought it would be cool to listen to the heartbeat with the fetal stethoscope instead of the doppler. Which means only one person can listen at a time. She listened, checked the heart rate, then B listened, then I listened. But I couldn't hear a thing! By the time it had gotten to me, it must not have been in the right spot, so I heard nothing. I said, "I hear nothing." She smiled patiently and did nothing. The stethoscope was really hurting my ears, so I just said, "Oh ok....there it is." Blatant lie. HA. Anyhow, the best part of the exam was that as she was measuring my uterus, he kicked her really hard in the hand. Cute baby :)

The take home story is the appointment was fine. I am healthy (except apparently low blood pressure?), baby is healthy, my uterus was measuring exactly 26 inches at 26 weeks (nature is crazy!), and all is good in pregnancy-land. I think that I just realized that the skeptic in me doesn't let me blindly gulp down the koolaid as some of the better kale-eating, baby-wearing converts out there. Sometimes I just have to call bullshit.