Little Bird

I'm not so sure about this Hypnobabies thing.  I'm on day three and so far I've done a lot of arguing with the book and hypnosis CDs.  I think my main issue is that the book and CDs focus on eliminating pain in birth and I'm really not worried about the pain, I'm worried about the baby breathing and being alive after birth.  And I'm skeptical about this whole pain free birth thing.  I was relaxed, calm, went into my first birth without any fear, and it still hurt a LOT at the end there (Lesson learned from birth number one: When midwives say, "It will get more intense," they mean "You will feel pain that will make you yell in such a way that your husband will still talk about it a year after the birth). My issues with control are making this endeavor even more difficult.  I don't like being told to create a safe place where birth is normal and pressure waves don't hurt, but make you smile.  Every time the calm CD narrator instructs me to

Entering the third trimester hasn't been as emotionally hazardous as I thought it would be, but the physical aspects of this pregnancy are much more difficult to navigate than my first.  I want to sit on the couch, eat, read, and sleep, but I also feel this insane urge to clean the house.  If only I hurt less, if only I slept more, maybe then I could find the motivation to leverage myself off the couch and tackle the nesting projects my hormonal self insists must be done. I should sweep and mop the floors today since J was in the yard all weekend digging a trench - part one of our major summer backyard project - and as a result there is more dirt in the house than the yard, but for the first time in a long while I'm reading a book (Under the Harrow by Mark Dunn) that is stretching my brain and I may just spend my day with it and a dictionary (I haven't had to look up this many words in a novel in years, if ever) on the couch. What makes me even more likely to stay on t

... or at least I should, but most days you are not at the forefront of my mind.  It's crowded in there, dear girl, and you are not being edged out, but you are moving aside.  But then, unexpectedly, there are days when you shove your way forward and I find myself staring across a restaurant at a little girl my stomach tightening, eyes tingling, wondering where you've gone and - how again? - I lost you. I've been thinking about birth a lot lately which inevitably brings me back to yours.  I still can't find the thread, the one sliver of information or insight that leads to the moment where it all went wrong.  Life from that invisible moment has been inexplicable.  Here I am, twenty-seven, nearly twenty-eight now, with two babies, one dead, one growing.  Of course it goes without saying that this is monumental, overwhelming, confusing, but I'm still beating the proverbial dead horse on this one. I seem to (finally) have eased into year two without you.  I don'

What a fabulous day.  The midwife at the maternal fetal medicine clinic who I was dreading seeing wasn't in today (she was at a sweat lodge ...?) so I met with the wonderful Dr. K.  I like him SO much and was glad to have a quick meeting with him since I am in the third trimester now. I didn't have my favorite ultrasound tech, but she still did a good job.  She's a bit more abrupt than the one I normally see and when Bennett once again refused to move his head she dropped me into a reclining position so fast I thought I would slide right off the table  The tech I usually see does it last, asks how I am doing periodically and makes sure I don't stay in that position very long.  Today I was left in the steeper than normal recline while she checked his head, then his belly and just as I was feeling dizzy and about to ask to sit up for a moment she brought me back up.  Then she had me try my left side, then my right, but baby boy refused to move.  I can say that the back

We are doing nothing today.  That's what J wanted, so that is what we are doing.  We skipped church, we played video games together this morning (he's still up there now, will probably be there for the rest of the day) and then I began sorting through what we have for Bennett. Thanks to my requests for non-gender specific sheets and blankets when I was pregnant with Charlotte, and the clothes shopping I can't seem to stop myself from doing, we have everything for Bennett aside from diaper wipes.  I am hesitant to buy too many clothes because Charlotte was so small.  I don't think Bennett will be 5 lbs like his sister so I've stocked up on 0-3 months and 3-6 month clothes and if we need more newborn sizes (I have a take home outfit and a couple sleepers) we'll buy them after he's born. There are some items we will definitely not need.  I have 10 receiving blankets, 4 swaddle blankets, 4 fluffy fleece blankets and 2 sleep sacks.  I think he will be warm en

I'm never sure what to do with this one.  J has been out of sorts lately, but I'm not sure I can pin it to the upcoming day like I could with me.  He hasn't been sleeping well, or feeling well (though the gluten free diet would have a bit of an effect by now) which could explain his grumpiness. I asked him outright if Father's Day is upsetting for him, but he brushed me off so I've decided to leave it alone.  I want to be acknowledged on Mother's Day, but perhaps speaking of it is too difficult for him.  He didn't buy me anything for Mother's Day - though a card would have been nice - but he did take me out for the day so I wouldn't sit at home and mope. I am taking his lack of interest in Mother's Day as a sign that he doesn't want a gift or card for Father's Day, but now I'm wondering if that really is the best idea.  I have no idea whatsoever how to handle this one.  I bought him a card last year and framed a picture of him wit

I've been feeling so uncomfortable, grumpy, done with being pregnant, generally whiny.  But then two rainbows gone, a baby delivered early, who is doing well so far thank the Lord, and I am firmly reminded by the universe to shut up and be grateful. I believe in a kind and loving Father who is with my Charlotte at this very moment in heaven.  I trust Him and it is only through my faith that I am making it through this pregnancy (as pathetic and ungraceful as the making it is).  And yet every time a baby dies, every time a mother and father have to say good-bye to another  baby I question just who is in charge and what in the world this in charge person is thinking.  I know many in this world who don't have faith, or who have lost their faith, and honestly I don't blame them for giving up on the idea of someone out there who cares about them. Once you're in this bereaved world there is no leaving, and really there is no better place to be lost than here, but when the

I didn't want to tell anyone I was in labor with Charlotte.  I let my parents know as well as J's and that was it.  I asked them, months before I went into labor, to keep it quiet because I wanted to keep it to myself.  I had a sense of uneasiness about Charlotte that would not go away throughout the pregnancy and I wanted to make it through birth before telling friends and family it was happening.  I wanted a healthy baby in my arms before I posted on fb or texted half my address book about my water breaking (hard to believe what I initially thought of as first time mama craziness was in fact some prescient understanding that all was not well).   Stacked on top of that was the concern that if I told people I was in labor I would be focusing on them waiting for me instead of the baby and birth because I cannot stand the feeling (even if it's false) of inconveniencing people, of making them wait, of taking a long time to do what some can accomplish in a short time. And loo

We've been married for five years today, J and I.  And I really wanted to write something fabulous, but I don't have the words.  This marriage thing has been so hard - and much of that traces back to our little girl gone - but rewarding, loving, amazing too.  I know now that five years is a long time to have someone and each year, each day, each hour with this person I committed my self to is something to be thankful for.  Blessed to have him and my beautiful babies.

You have been gestating for twenty-six weeks today.  It's hard to believe we've been hanging out for that long.  Sometimes late at night before I fall asleep, or in the early morning when you decide sleep time is over and kick (actually it's more like flail) time has begun, I wonder if we are reaching our end.  At twenty-six weeks with your sister I only had eleven weeks left to parent her living soul. What if I only have eleven, or twelve, or thirteen more with you?  I should be treasuring this more, shouldn't I? I do my best not to take this for granted and I don't assume that you will be here longer than me.  Of course I hope with all my heart that you will stay but expectations and assumptions are no longer welcome here. I just want you to know that I am taking this moment in the sunshine in the backyard to sit with you, to hope for you and us, to think about you coming home in September, to believe in your strength and life.  You are here with me now and I

I had an appointment with my midwife today.  I wish all of my appointments could be like this morning.  I know I need to see the specialists, keep having ultrasounds done but they don't tell stories about catching babies in ambulances or let me borrow a fetoscope so I can listen to Bennett's heart beating away whenever I want without using the doppler. I had my glucose test this morning.  I tested high with Charlotte, but that pregnancy was very different so I think the numbers this time around should be well within normal range.  Bennett is doing well, his heart rate was in its normal range, he woke up midway through the appointment and started moving around like mad.  I'm doing well: blood pressure is fine, weight is fine (I am five pounds shy of the weight I was at when I delivered Charlotte.  I think my weight gain will end up around 35 as opposed to 25 pounds this time around, but that's still normal), the initial fundal height was measured at 29 cm, but that did

I am incapable of handling change calmly and gracefully.  It's simply not in my nature.  No one likes change, or at least most people don't, but I am absolutely, adamantly against it.  I like consistency and sameness.  I am, at my core, a very boring person.  I think my inflexibility is the one thing J would change about me if he could because he has to live in fear of telling me about changes in plans and he has to deal with the aftermath. I don't like it when plans change, I don't like it when life changes, I don't like to be told one thing will be happening and then have it change (even something so simple as dinner plans). When Charlotte died my inability to handle change only grew.  When she died I was left standing in the middle of what felt like a wasteland stomping my feet and yelling But I thought full term babies ALWAYS came home!  What do you mean she's dead?!   That was the most life altering change I have ever experienced and I didn't see it c

My apologies for all of the whining of late.  Yes this is my space and I can be how I want here, but at some point one must pull it together and stop complaining so much. The sun is shining here!  It's supposed to be warm until Monday and those of us who live in this valley in Oregon could not be happier to see the sun. Bennett boy is SO active.  Sometimes he kicks and punches at the same time, clever boy, so I feel him in two places at once.  We have almost everything baby related we need.  I will buy more clothes in August once the fall/winter lines become available, but we already have enough things to get us through for a while. I am finally sleeping better and my appetite is back as well.  I love being pregnant because I can eat and eat and eat without gaining five pounds in a week. Bennett has these strange growth spurts that last for days where I feel like I will never get enough food and then things calm down for a while before he requires massive amounts of food once

Year two thus far?  I don't like it, I don't like it at all.  I don't like me in year two either.  I can't seem to find the happy.  And it doesn't have to be a great big happy, a small one would be okay.  I went to a movie with some friends last night.  I requested a movie night (big step, saying what I need) with them since it always cheers me up and I am in desperate need of that.  Didn't work. In times of stress or upset my response has always been to eat.  After Charlotte died I was surprised by my complete non-interest in food.  Didn't want it, wouldn't remember to eat if someone didn't tell me to, could care less about eating my weight in chocolate.  Here in year two that stress response has reawakened and is desperate to make up for lost time. Lately all I want is three gallons of diet soda, the entire Harry Potter series, my comfy spot on the couch, cookies, ice cream, any other junk or processed food that comes my way.  What is it about