I have no school, no job, no pressing duties, and I really don't know what to do with myself. This may be the very first time in my life where my sole responsibility is to rest, eat well, and wait. It's the road less traveled in my journey. Weird stuff.
The idea that I, like so many other first timers, will likely gestate well into the 42nd week is a bit depressing. Unwisely, I have focused on my due date of June 4th. Now I am starting to realize that I may be looking more at mid-June. Ugh...
On the bipolar front, the mood coaster has been fairly smooth these last 9 months. I got the clearance from my psychiatrist to go ahead with trying to breastfeed after labor. This was a great relief considering her original plan was to put me right back on mood stabilizers as soon as the baby was born, meaning no breastfeeding. I am hell bent on trying to breastfeed, and now she is on board with the plan as well. So long as I don't show any signs of PPD or psychosis. Just typing that last word makes me shiver.
Spending time just lounging fosters unfounded guilt. So, I pass the time by visiting you all and your lovely posts. Speaking of which, Aurelia has great news, if not eventful. Stop on by and see for yourself.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Trust Issues
Yesterday, I lounged around all morning. After about 3 hours of doing nothing, I realized that I hadn't felt Curry move all morning! Panic set in pretty quickly and soon I was drinking a liter of juice, laying on my left side and begging Curry to give me a nudge. No movement. Husband and doctor were contacted. Within 15 minutes, I had thrown my pre-packed hospital luggage into the car and we were on our way to the hospital for a non-stress test. I practiced doing some deep breathing relaxation on the 30 minutes drive there. By the time we were 5 miles from the hospital, I felt her give me a little punch in the ribs.
While I waited to be hooked up to the external fetal monitor, we could hear a young woman screaming in labor in the next room. Every once in awhile we could make out the words, "It hurts!" I have no problem in general with women needed to scream out in pain. But, I could have used some ear plugs during those few moments.
Finally, they hooked me up and I heard the sweet sound of my baby's heartbeat. The nurse smiled and said things looked really good. Apparently, I even managed to have a good contraction that popped up on the monitor. At least that's what they told me, I didn't feel a thing. Nor did I feel any of the movements that they said Curry was busy making. Perhaps, she had turned herself around so that most of her kicks were into my back. Who knows what my naughty daughter was up to yesterday, but by the time we left the hospital she was back to her tricks and kicking me firmly in the ribs.
On the way to the hospital, I realized that I have some trust issues. All of the natural birthing books I am reading consistently emphasize that women must trust their bodies to do the right thing during labor and delivery. I am not so sure that I trust my body to know what to do. It's sad that miscarriage and mental illness has convinced me that my body doesn't know a damn thing about any of the stuff that it should.
While I waited to be hooked up to the external fetal monitor, we could hear a young woman screaming in labor in the next room. Every once in awhile we could make out the words, "It hurts!" I have no problem in general with women needed to scream out in pain. But, I could have used some ear plugs during those few moments.
Finally, they hooked me up and I heard the sweet sound of my baby's heartbeat. The nurse smiled and said things looked really good. Apparently, I even managed to have a good contraction that popped up on the monitor. At least that's what they told me, I didn't feel a thing. Nor did I feel any of the movements that they said Curry was busy making. Perhaps, she had turned herself around so that most of her kicks were into my back. Who knows what my naughty daughter was up to yesterday, but by the time we left the hospital she was back to her tricks and kicking me firmly in the ribs.
On the way to the hospital, I realized that I have some trust issues. All of the natural birthing books I am reading consistently emphasize that women must trust their bodies to do the right thing during labor and delivery. I am not so sure that I trust my body to know what to do. It's sad that miscarriage and mental illness has convinced me that my body doesn't know a damn thing about any of the stuff that it should.
Monday, May 12, 2008
To Term
Done! All the work is handed in and I walked at my graduation yesterday. I am still in a graduation haze and the fact that l@w school is finally over is very gradually settling in. Now, I can focus completely on having this baby without feeling guilty that I am neglecting school or other obligations. For the next 3 months, I have only one obligation and that is truly exciting. It's a whole new idea to me and I am hoping to milk it for all it's worth.
The nesting instinct is starting to take hold, although not in the most productive way. Instead of feeling energetic and feeling the need to organize and clean, I just dream about it fitfully. Then I wake up and remember that nothing has been done and there is still so much left to do.
On the humor front, I fielded a junk phone call the other day. For some reason I felt the need to humor the person and tell them what types of magazines that I was interested in reading. The caller latched onto the idea that I am pregnant and suggested Fit Pregnancy. Not a terrible idea. She quoted a price and I asked how long that would be for. Answer: 5 years. Um, I'm not sure that I am going to be pregnant for five more years, but hey, what do I know?
The nesting instinct is starting to take hold, although not in the most productive way. Instead of feeling energetic and feeling the need to organize and clean, I just dream about it fitfully. Then I wake up and remember that nothing has been done and there is still so much left to do.
On the humor front, I fielded a junk phone call the other day. For some reason I felt the need to humor the person and tell them what types of magazines that I was interested in reading. The caller latched onto the idea that I am pregnant and suggested Fit Pregnancy. Not a terrible idea. She quoted a price and I asked how long that would be for. Answer: 5 years. Um, I'm not sure that I am going to be pregnant for five more years, but hey, what do I know?
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