Breast is Best

"Breast milk is the optimum nutrition for your baby"

That's what it says on the top of my container of formula.  My baby is formula fed.  Here's my story: 


If you toughed it through my Birth Story, you probably know by now that Inara was brought into this world by Emergency C-Section.  If you didn't read the birth story - well, now you know.  It wasn't planned that way - obviously, but that was the hand I was dealt, and I have a healthy happy baby as a result. 

10 minutes after Inara was born, I was wheeled into a recovery room, and had a nurse suggest skin to skin contact with my baby - so they stripped me down to the waist, and plopped my naked baby on my chest.  Then another nurse squeezed my nipple to get some clostrum out (I've said it before, but when you have a baby you check your modesty at the door - your body is not your own, and having a nurse grab your boob without even saying a word to you suddenly seems natural after all you've been through).  Clostrum is the "milk" your body produces before your "milk comes in" it's like a super vitamin packed baby milkshake that they get their nutrients from while the hormones your body produces as a result of labour signals your body to start making milk - which shows up around 3-5 days post labour.  Once the nurse got a little clostrum out, she rubbed it on Inara's tongue, and walked away.  Inara - much to our amazement, squirmed her way over to my nipple and latched on.  This was my "breast feeding tutorial".  Now being partially frozen, I couldn't tell if her latch was correct or not - and no one corrected anything.  I just assumed that if Baby was eating, all was well and good. 

That night was the worst night as a new mom, for several reasons.  For one, I was recovering from major abdominal surgery, and couldn't get out of bed - let alone reach for my baby in the crib beside me, for two - because I was in recovery, I was in a shared room, and Ben was not able to spend the night with me - meaning I was all alone, sleep deprived, in pain, and doing everything for Inara alone (with the help of nurses when they had a chance - but they were understaffed that night, due to sick calls, as one nurse let me know.)

Now my water broke at 1am - I got one hour of sleep then, plus another at about 4am - then nothing.  By 6pm I was having trouble focusing as our family was meeting Inara for the first time.  When everyone left I tried so hard to sleep - but Inara wanted to be fed - again.  Since being born, this was my 5th feeding with her - and her feedings weren't short either - they were upwards of 45-60 minutes long, and then once she was done, she would cry for 10-15 minutes until I latched her again, and she fed for another hour.  This was my entire night.   At one point I had a very nice nurse bring me several pillows so I could create a little fort around Inara so that if I fell asleep nursing her (which was very possible since I was head nodding hard core) then I wouldn't drop her - which I was terrified of doing! 

For the whole night, I got a few 15 minute naps while Inara was nursing.  It was hell, I was deliriously tired, and I felt like the worst mom in the world because I could not figure out how to stop my child from crying (I also felt like an ass because on the other side of my curtain was another new mom trying to sleep and my baby was keeping her awake, while her baby didn't make a sound)!  I asked every nurse I met if it was normal for a new born who was supposed to have the stomach the size of a cherry to eat SO MUCH, and everyone said "it's good that she's eating so much!  You want that!"

Finally around 5am Inara tired herself out, and slept until 7, allowing me 2 hours of sleep before the gauntlet of nurses and doctors started coming around to check my blood pressure, incision, IV etc.  At 9am Ben arrived, and took Inara so I could steal another 30 minutes of sleep, and then we got the best news when a nurse arrived to tell us that a theme room opened up, and Ben could spend the night that night. 

For the three days in the hospital I nursed around the clock with Inara, and every time she would be done, she never seemed like she was satisfied, and the fussing and crying would begin again.  Ben and I both continued to ask the staff if this was normal, and everyone said it was great.  With all that nursing I also discovered that Inara's latching technique was not at all good - and feedings became more and more painful to me in which I would drive my nails into my palms, and scrunch my face tight to get through it - unfortunately though, once the damage is done, there will still be pain even after correcting the latch. 

On the 3rd day we were discharged and sent home, and I sent Ben out to buy me a breast pump.  After crying while Inara nursed, I decided that I didn't care if Inara got milk from me, or from a bottle, as long as she got my breast milk.  On Monday my health nurse stopped by to make sure everything was okay, and once again instructed me on proper latching technique, but also said that Inara had lost more than 10% of her birth weight, and she was now officially underweight.  As a result we were put on a strict 2 hour feeding schedule to get her back up to proper weight. 

That night at 1:30am Ben and I got up to feed Inara, and were met with a screaming baby who refused to latch.  After trying several times, and Inara screaming her lungs out - Ben finally told me to get the formula.  Once the first drip touched her lips, she was immediately silent, and ate like it was the first time in days - which is when we realized it had been.  All those 1 hour feedings, with the unsatisfied newborn, she was starving.  I was a glorified soother. 

Once I started pumping our suspicions were confirmed - I was producing only drops.  My body apparently didn't get the memo that my milk was supposed to come in.  After that first night of formula we had a completely different newborn - she slept 4 hours solid, and no longer cried in her sleep - feedings only took 5 minutes as she gulped the bottle, and often fell asleep immediately after.  She also started to gain weight which was the biggest relief.  In three days Inara gained 13 ounces, and we were informed we could go back to "on demand" feedings.  In the meantime I kept pumping to try to increase my supply, as well I took several herbal supliments to try to increase my milk production, but it was taking more and more days to produce one feeding of breast milk for her, and my own sanity was starting to break out of frustration. 

At Inara's 2 week checkup with our pediatrician, I requested a referral to the Breast Feeding Clinic to try to get some help.  I was told that the doctor would contact me for an appointment.  In the meantime I was still pumping but I was doing so less and less as each time I would spend the whole time peering into the bottles at the drips being produced, and getting more and more frustrated and angry. 

Last Monday I had a break down.  I was fine for most of the day, and then I started crying, and I cried for most of the afternoon.  I can't tell you why I was crying - it was the result of lots of things, and nothing all at once.  I just couldn't do anything but cry.  I didn't pump at all that day, I figured it probably wouldn't help my fragile state.  (Sidenote - I know my breakdown was a result of hormones crashing in my system - and I'm doing great now - I just needed that one day to cry my eyes out, and I'm over it now).    On Tuesday I pumped in the morning, and put my sad "drips" in the fridge.  By that afternoon they had started to evaporate - so I cleaned out the bottle and packed up the pump.  That was it. 

This morning (Friday) I still have not heard from the Breast Feeding clinic, but I did hear from a friend's sister who is a nurse, and after talking to her she confirmed what I had been thinking - by the third week, you can either do it, or you can't.  Your milk production is no longer hormonal, and is pretty established through supply and demand, and if all that pumping from the previous week still didn't produce even half an ounce, then it just wasn't going to happen. 

My child is formula fed - and there is nothing wrong with that.  They say "Breast is Best" - no.  You know what's best?  Having a healthy happy well fed child.  That's what's best.  And however you are able to accomplish that, whether through breastfeeding, pumping or formula - THAT'S what's best.  Now I didn't write this all for advice, and I certainly didn't write it for sympathy - what I wrote it for is to share my story.  I find in this information age, the more you know, the better off you are.  Once I started talking to people, I discovered that I'm not the only one this has happened to.  I'm not the only new mom out there who's milk didn't come in, or who struggled with producing enough.  The more I talk, the more people share their stories with me - but you don't know unless you say something.  We tend to have a self involved outlook of the world - feeling like what we are experiencing is exclusive to only us, and that kind of point of view can be very lonely.  Hearing that you are not alone, and being able to share an experience can mean the world to someone. 

So I write.  And I will keep writing.  Regardless of whether or not I ever hear from someone who's been helped by my writing - I will continue to write, and I will continue to share because I know what it means to me. 

The Birth Story

*** Warning***  I am going to write this post as candid as my usual posts - but this is not for the faint of heart, and my male friends and anyone not into reading about the nitty gritty of child birth should probably skip this post...



So there I was Wednesday night - writing my ranty 40 week blog post.  Complaining about the lack of baby, symptoms and signs.  I posted my blog at 11:30pm - waddled to the bathroom, crawled into bed, and shut off my light at midnight for what I assumed would be another restless sleep.

At 1am, Emmy crawled into bed with me, demanding cuddles and love, and waking me from my sleep.  As I shifted to make room for my fat black cat, I felt a gush.  What the HELL was that?!?  I pulled back the covers and felt around, and sure enough there was a wet spot.  My water broke!

Within seconds I forgot my single hour of sleep, and I was running on full adrenaline, as I shook Ben awake "Ben - Hunny, wake up - my water broke, we have to go to the hospital!!"  He jumped to his feet before he was even awake, and our very long night began!

I asked for a towel, and waddled to the bathroom - funny thing about amniotic fluid - there is no keeping it in, so you end up with the sensation of peeing yourself with no way to stop it - but you still try anyway.  Ben followed behind me with paper towels... true story... I left a path like a slug.  Child birth is just that glamorous!

Then I jumped in the shower, because when you wake up in a puddle, you kinda want to clean yourself up a bit before venturing out in public.  While I was showering Ben called the parents.  My mom's reaction was probably the best one:

Ben:  "Hey mom, just wanted you to know that Heather's water just broke..."
Mom: "Now, don't take anything she says to you personally..."

hahaha - Really Mom?  Your little girl is about to have a baby and your first thought is that I'm going to verbally abuse my husband in the process!?  Awesome. 

After Ben had a quick shave and a shower we headed to the hospital.  Truth be told I'm so glad this all went down in the middle of the night, considering the snow storm we had earlier that day, there wasn't a soul on the roads, which allowed us to drive 15 km/h on the skating rink that we call Edmonton the 6 blocks to the hospital.

By about 1:30am we were finding parking, and my contractions started approximately 6 minutes apart.  Right off the bat they just felt like bad menstrual cramps (you were warned boys).  They were there, and annoying, but nothing I hadn't dealt with in the past, and I actually had to stop and pay attention to them in order to acknowledge they were happening.  By 2am I was settled in my room and the doctor on call confirmed that my water did in fact break, but that my body was only progressed to 1.5cm dilated, and 25% effaced.  Basically meaning "you got some time - try to get some sleep".  Unfortunately - WHO CAN SLEEP AT A TIME LIKE THIS!?!   It took Ben and I until about 4am to finally nod off for about an hour, before the contractions started coming faster and more intense, and our sleeping time was over.  Also, here's a little known fact - once your water breaks, it's not just like a water balloon burst and it's over and done with - No no, your body continues to replenish all lost fluid continuously up until you deliver - which means it continues to leak out of you.  It's... pleasant.  after one particularly big contraction, I said to Ben "I either just peed myself, or my contractions are starting to gush the fluid out of me... "  That might have been to worst sensation of this whole ordeal.  I don't like feeling like I peed myself - and especially not every 4 minutes...

By 7am I was having contractions every 3.5-4 minutes, and they were getting more painful by the minute.   At 9am my OB came in to make her rounds and after witnessing me go through a very painful contraction, she checked me again and confirmed I was 3cm, and we could start induction.

By Noon I was completely out of it with every contraction - I went to another place.  I had been sitting on a birthing ball (read yoga ball, when it comes to pregnancy, everything gets a special "baby-type" name... it's a yoga ball) hanging on to the bed with Ben sitting behind me giving me a back rub pushing during contractions for counter pressure.  And with each contraction, my vision would tunnel, the room got far away, my whole body would shake and tears streamed from my eyes.  My body was giving out with each blip on the monitor.  Finally I asked for an epidural.  It's not that I couldn't tough through the pain, but I could tell my body was about to shut down to cope, and the last thing I wanted was for Ben to have to catch and hold up a very pregnant dead weight while he screamed for the nurses.  Thank God my body managed to progress to a 3 earlier, because they will not give an epidural for less than a 3 because it can impede progress. 

Once I got my epidural, the following hour was a blur - I was numb, and I felt as though I was drifting in and out of consciousness - even though I was listening to everything around me - I couldn't keep my eyes open, and my body went limp.  Thankfully this made my contractions completely painless - although, they started making me nauseous, causing me to frantically grab for the vomit basin at every one (although I still maintain my record of not throwing up even ONCE this entire pregnancy!  I just grabbed for the basin because I was really close!).

During this hour, I was aware of a LOT of people in the room with me, and a lot of wires, tubes and machines all over me.  Working head to toe, I had an oxygen mask on, then I had my epidural tube up over my left shoulder, then in my left hand I had my IV, with a heart rate monitor clamped to my index finger.  Then in my right arm I had a blood pressure cuff inflating every 3 minutes, and a nurse taking 4 vials of blood out of my inner elbow.  Then I had two monitors strapped to my belly - one monitoring the baby's heart rate, and the other monitoring my contractions, and then last but not least, I had a catheter put in - because being numb from boob down doesn't really help you hold your bladder.  Once again - Child Birth is Glamorous!

Through all the commotion I distinctly remember two conversations - one between the nurse, and Ben where he asked "is her reaction to the epidural typical?"  and the nurse responded "oh yeah, she's so exhausted from tensing up through all those contractions that when she gets the epidural everything relaxes and sometimes woman fall asleep".  The second conversation scared me.  I had my eyes closed, so the nurses assumed I was asleep, but I caught one nurse quietly say to the other "The babies heart rate is distressed with every contraction, something is wrong".  It turns out every time my belly monitor caught a contraction in which the little line on the monitor would draw a mountain peak, the other monitor was catching a fall in my babies heart rate with a matching valley.  That's not something a drugged up woman in labour wants to hear.

Sometime during all the frenzy in my room, I was examined again, and they discovered that my body reverse progressed, and I was back to 1.5cm.  I'm just glad I made it to 3 earlier to get the epidural, I couldn't imagine 12 hours without anything.  A moment later a nurse came in and said Dr. Barns was on her way in and was suggesting an emergency C-section.  Emergency anything in regards to your child is not a happy word, and after hearing that baby was distressed I started crying at the thought that there was something wrong, and that she wouldn't be okay.  Ben was my rock and tried to calm me down, but I could tell he was a little worried too.  Within minutes my already busy room was bustling with even more nurses dressed head to toe in scrubs, masks and hairnets, and got Ben dressed up too, and my bed was unhooked and rolling.

I honestly can't remember the trip to the OR, my mind was racing with what if's and I just kept crying.  I just remember getting to the room, and one nurse pointed to a chair in the hallway and said "this is Daddy's seat until we get her prepped" - and just like that - the only familiar face to me was told to sit in the hall, and I was rolled into the sterile cold bright room alone.

Then they shifted me to the operating table from the bed, and tightly wrapped my legs with bands and blankets so I couldn't move - while they strapped my arms out on either side of me on padded planks that swing out from the table.  I wasn't sure if I was shivering from fear or cold, but they got me a warm blanket to put across my arms and chest, and then began painting my belly and thighs with brown sticky antiseptic.  Then they unfolded a large blue sheet with a clear plastic circle in the center and placed it over my belly and pressed it down so that the brown sticky substance was holding the plastic in place.  Then finally they brought in Ben as they pinned one portion of the blue sheet up to prevent us from viewing my internal organs.

Once they checked again that I was indeed frozen, they started the C-section.  Now something I didn't know about a C-Section, is that you can't feel pain, but you can feel everything else.  I could feel them touching me, and pressing on me, I could pin point where the OB's hands were, and I could feel the pressure of them pushing the baby downward.  Actually that's an understatement - it was more than pressure - I had one OB SITTING ON MY CHEST, as she pushed with both hands on my rib cage to push Lump toward the incision site.  I stopped breathing at one point, only because there was so much weight on top of me that I could not inflate my lungs!  I thought for certain I was going to end up with cracked ribs!!  THIS was NOT what I was expecting when I pictured a C-Section... they don't tell you this part.  (But I'm telling you - because if you ever find yourself in the same situation, then perhaps you won't have the same panic I went through because I wasn't expecting the ordeal to be so... violent).  As it turns out, my umbilical cord was on the short side, and was wrapped around babies neck, so each time my uterus contracted and tried to push her downward, the cord would essentially strangle her - hence the drop in her heart rate.  This was the definition of Emergency. 

Within 3-5 minutes I heard her cry, and I have never heard a more beautiful sound in my life.  Tears streamed down my face, and I sobbed - finally - she was here!  My OB came around the curtain to show us the screaming purple baby for just a mere moment before taking her to get weighed and cleaned off.  The nurses called Ben over to cut the umbilical cord, and I just reveled in the moment, listening to "she's so cute!"  and "that's a big baby!" as I continued to cry.  A moment later Ben returned showing me the pictures he took on the camera - and she was, indeed a BIG baby!  8 pounds, 7 ounces, bright pink, chubby cheeks, and screaming!  She's perfect!

She was born at 1:59pm, November 8th, 2012 -  13 hours from my water breaking, and 2 days after my due date.

10 fingers

10 toes

Daddy's eyes

Mommy's nose

Inara Kalyna - Welcome to the world baby girl.

40 weeks

So here it is!  The big day!  The day we have been counting down for!  40 weeks - 12 weeks shy of a year, and the official start of the 10th month (oh yes, when they say pregnancy is 9 months, what they mean is 10 - 4 weeks in a month, 40 weeks = 10 months).  It's only those ladies that go into labour before they reach the 40 that get a 9 month pregnancy.  I have been writing blog posts, and taking belly pictures, and documenting symptoms, twitches, movements, and experiences all along waiting for this day... and then....


NOTHING.

Kind of anti-climactic I suppose...  Not that I was expecting her to arrive on her due date - not at all, I'm not so naive that I believe that something as natural as child birth would know it had a schedule, let alone follow it!  But I am left feeling a little let down... I mean, what do we count down to now?  Where is our end date?  Will it be another week?  Or two?  Perhaps just a day?  An hour maybe?  ... I kind of liked it better when I had something to count towards...

Without my countdown, I'm feeling a little - out of control I suppose.  No control makes a Virgo... something something...  (go crazy - for those of you who missed the Simpsons reference).  I'm just feeling like all this anticipation and excitement sort of fizzled out, and although I know she won't stay in there forever, and I really am just max a week or two away from meeting her, I'm starting to feel like the day will never come!  I have literally spent the last 3+ weeks just waiting for her!  I've killed time on the internet, I've read books, I've watched TV and gone for walks.  Every conversation revolves around her, every phone call, text, and email asks about her, every room in my house has something baby related in it, and it keeps her on my mind first and for most constantly.  I've looked up countless signs and symptoms searching for some clue that she's on her way, and Nadda. 

See that's the biggest frustration... it's not even so much as the fact that I have to wait a little longer, it's more the fact that I don't seem to be progressing towards actually going into labour at all!  I think I could stand to wait a little longer if I was actually experiencing contractions, or if any of the other symptoms were prevalent in my daily life - however, that's simply not the case.  I've just continued on being pregnant, and I've failed to progress to the next stage and start early labour!  How can a baby possibly be born if my body won't kick start into the next level?

Anyway, I'm whining.  I'm aware of it.  I'm just ready - you know?  I did the pregnancy thing, and I feel I did it quite well, I put in my 40 weeks, and I prepped my finances, my home, my body, my life - now I just want to hold my baby girl in my arms!  Ben, of course, is feeling the same frustrations, however in a slightly different light.  He's just as excited, but he's got an outside perspective, so rather than just know that no labour is happening, he's left wondering if every gasp or grunt uttered by his very pregnant wife is the real deal, and each time his spouse hauls herself out of bed in the wee hours of the night, his heart jumps a beat hoping that "this is it!" only to be let down time and time again "no hunny, I just can't sleep" "I just had to pee - go back to sleep"  "I need to take some tums, I have heartburn".

Come on Dear Lump... we want to meet you!!

In my last blog post, I mentioned two other girls who were due the same week as I was - I of course had the 6th, Tessa had the 7th, and Lynn had the 8th.  Well Tessa gave birth to her precious little girl on Nov 3rd - and Lynn welcomed her beautiful baby girl to the world on Nov 6th.  And I.. well, I'm writing a blog post.  

Anyway, I'm going to stop complaining, I could have it worse - much worse, I'm just feeling sorry for myself.  But it's my blog, and I'm entitled a ranty blog post here and there.  It's not all sunshine and rainbows on this end!

There isn't much to report on this week, Halloween came and went, and we ended up with about 20 kids, which is a 400% increase from last year!  Wooo!  ... I really hope some younger families move into our neighborhood soon!  The retiree's always have nice lawns, but they aren't much for the little community celebrations Ben and I would love our little girl to experience through the year!  I was lamenting our older community to Ben's dad the other day, and he cut me off to say there is nothing wrong with retiree's - I agree, there isn't!  However since we happened to be having this conversation while having dinner with his oldest dearest friend, whom grew up right across the street from him when he was a child, I felt that it was appropriate to point out, that sometimes it's nice to have your best friend live down the street when you are little.  I would love that for Lump, to have a childhood friend just a few houses down, that she could grow up with - I didn't really have that in my neighborhood.  All my friends were on the other sides of major roads, and at least 20 minutes away by walking - not exactly down the street.  It made for boring summers, and I always wished we had more kids in our neighbourhood when I was growing up. 

One of the only times I can recall leaving the house this week was when we went to Erik and Athena's on Saturday to record a Podcast with Erik about our upcoming parenthood experience.  Erik has a nifty new microphone, and decided to start recording podcasts about his life, and his friends -  interviewing people in his social circles and just having fun conversations together.  With Ben and I expecting our little one, Erik asked if we would guest star and talk about the new chapter in our life.  We ended up talking for an hour, and as usual with Erik, we had a lot of fun!  I'm excited to hear how it all turned out! 

On Monday the sun came out, and dried up all the snow giving us a gorgeous day of blue skies and dry roads.  I decided to go in to work with Ben so that I could meet up with Melissa for a long over due lunch date (her work is much closer to Ben's office rather than my house)!  We had previously made plans weeks before but the day before our date was when my car broke down, and then the following week was my snow related panic attack behind the wheel, so I was excited when I discovered everything would melt on Monday and we could finally meet up!  It was needed - I've been feeling much like a hermit lately, and it was nice to get outside and see a friend! 

On Tuesday I had my 40 week due date appointment, and unfortunately was met with a little more disappointment with the state of my pregnancy as I am still sitting at a 1 on the scale of 1 to baby (10).  No change, no progress - and unfortunately, no induction for at least another week.  My OB (who is excellent I might add) doesn't like to induce before 41 weeks as she has found that induction when your body is not at least starting early labour can lead to an emergency C-Section - which I would like to avoid.  Of course I would like to meet my little one this week, however I would rather not put her or myself at risk of an emergency anything, so I will wait longer if that's what it takes. 

I do have an induction appointment for next week if Lump doesn't decide to make her appearance before then, but until then, I'm trying all the Old wives tales I can get my hands on to try to start this labour off now!  Wish me luck!!  Red Raspberry Leaf Tea, Castor Oil, Pineapple, Spicy Food... the list goes on, and I'm working my way down it!  It's time Lump!  As Ben says "she doesn't get an eviction notice, that can take days - she gets an evacuation notice - she needs to leave the premise immediately!"

Recap  (last one... maybe?)

How far along? 40 Weeks

Total weight gain: 33 Pounds  - holding steady this week
Inches gained in the waist: 12 1/2” (48” waist now!) same as last week

Maternity clothes?  Yes and no, I mostly live in my men’s sweat pants, and Ben’s shirts.  I have 2 maternity shirts that still fit, and one pair of pants – everything else has been put away. 

Stretch marks? No more, thankfully, but I still have the one’s that showed up around week 36

Sleep: Crappy at best.  The last couple days I’ve managed to get 6 hour stints, which is an improvement from the 4 hour stretchs from last week – but I miss my solid night sleep.

Best moment this week: Leaving the house to see Erik and Melissa!

Miss Anything?   This list just keeps getting longer – but the main thing is moving with ease, I feel like such a beached whale when I can’t seem to get myself off the couch for a bathroom break without a whole lot of kicking, flailing, and rocking back and forth!  The other night I straight up had to ask Ben to help haul me up since I couldn’t do it on my own! 

Movement:  Oh lots and lots!  She has been showing off her adorable little rump lately by pushing it out so my normally round belly ends up severely lopsided with a baseball sized bump protruding from the right side! 

Food cravings:  Nothing. 

Anything making you queasy or sick:  Nope

Gender: GIRL!     

Labor Signs: Nothing really – the odd BH contraction – but no patterns.   

Symptoms:   What don’t I have?!?

Belly Button in or out? Less “In” and more “flat”  my belly button is neither an innie nor an outie… it’s just a mark on a very round tummy with a slight depression around it.
Wedding rings on or off? Off – I decided to pack away the replacement ring too.  Just in case

Happy or Moody most of the time:  Mostly happy, but getting a little anxious now. 

Looking forward to:   Holding her in my arms!! 

Dear Lump

We are waiting for you.  We all are.  We can't wait, well we can, but we don't want to.  Even now, as you swim around in your safe little home, you are so very very loved.  Can you feel it?

Can you feel the love pouring into you?  All those hands that softly brush over your various limbs, and rump trying to decipher which part is which.  Each time you go to turn over and you are met with a hand pushing back to try to feel your roll - that's excitement and love.  We can't stop talking about you, to you - feeling you move and kick - we love everything about you!  

Dad and I have your room all ready, I hope you like it!  It's taken us much longer than we had intended, but it was truly a labour of love, and we wanted it to be perfect for you!

Grandma and Grandpop T ask about you every time I talk to them, Grandma K is so excited she shows all her friends and family every photo of my ever growing tummy, Auntie Dee is counting down the days until she meets you, and Uncle Jonathan is excited to fill your toy chest with lots of noisy toys that will drive Mommy crazy!! 

Every morning when Daddy and I wake up, Daddy puts his hands on my belly to feel you move around, and says good morning to you.  In case you are confused, Daddy is the one who sounds like the Austrian weight lifter when he talks to you - you'll understand why in a few years.  Daddy can't wait to meet his little girl!  I know he's going to be a big softy with you, as soon as you smile at him with those big chubby cheeks, he'll be yours!

Speaking of those cheeks of yours, we've already taken a few pictures of you!  As I type this and you are still deep inside my tummy, Daddy and I already have several photos of you on our fridge so we can see you every day!  It looks like you have my nose already!  I cannot wait to see you in person, to be able to look into your eyes, and brush my finger across your cheek.  Will you have hair?  Will you look like me?  The anticipation is killing me!

Daddy and I are trying so very hard to be patient.  We would be thrilled if you wanted to join us tomorrow, but at the same time, we want you to come when you are good and ready, and if that means waiting another week - then we will do so.

I have a feeling you will love our little pet as well - whenever Emmy curls up on my lap and purrs you end up rolling around, and trying to get closer to him!  I hope you are fast friends!  He's a pretty great little guy, and we're very fond of him.  I hope you love him as much as we do!

I'm sure you are wondering by now, why we keep calling you Lump - no, that's not the name we have choosen for you, but Daddy and I wanted to keep your real name to ourselves for the meantime.  It's a name I heard years and years ago, even before I met Daddy, and I fell in love with it instantly.  I hope you love it as much as I do, I think it's going to be very fitting for you, and I've given it a lot of thought.  Your nickname, "lump" came after you moved my whole tummy to the right to snuggle closer to Emmy one evening, and I wasn't sure which part of you I could feel, but my stomach ended up to be a large misshapen lump, and the name just stuck.  It's also a way to keep your name a secret until you arrive - we wanted something to announce to our family and friends when you arrived, and calling you Lump in the meantime worked out.  People knew who we were talking about, and we got to keep your name a secret just a little longer, but we're getting so close to telling people now!

You will be here within 2 weeks now!  After 9 months of waiting and anticipating, suddenly we are sitting at the final count down, going to the final doctors appointments, and waiting for you to arrive -finally!  I think this is the hardest wait of this whole experience!  To know that in just a couple days or weeks we will get to hold you in our arms after all this time - but to have no idea what day that will happen!  Please get here soon little Lump!

We have so much love to give you - we all do.  You have the most amazing family, and countless aunts and uncles who are itching to meet you.  Come out and see!

Love Mommy and Daddy  XXOO

39 weeks

I'm not even going to start this blog with a countdown - because I'm at the stage of the game where anything could happen.  Counting down "7 days left" means nothing at this point!  I have a friend who gave birth 6 days early, and another who was 10 days late - my daughter will arrive when she's good and ready, and no calender is going to dictate otherwise!

If I thought I was ready to meet her last week - I'm even more doubly ready this week!  Life just seems so much harder this week!  Everything hurts!  I'm still experiencing the pelvic pain, the back pain, the threatening calf muscle cramping pain, and the "air bubble trapped in ribs" pain on top of just over all having a hard time climbing stairs, getting up from the couch, and bending to pick something up, or put it away.  You ever get that feeling the day after a killer workout, where all your muscles and joints seem to have seized up while you slept, leaving you gasping, panting, grunting and wincing just to haul yourself from your bed in time to empty your bladder in the morning?  Now add in a 7 pound baby sitting on top of that full bladder to increase the sense of urgency, and you have my mornings!  The other morning I told Ben that if this was a pre-cursur to how I'm going to feel after I deliver, I might have to have him bring the baby to me for feedings because I wasn't going to be especially mobile several times a night!

Pain aside though, I'm feeling pretty good.  I'm still in a great mood, and I still waddle around the house rubbing my belly fondly - I think I'm sure going to miss it, although I would be thrilled to wear a shirt that covers my tummy again!  I do find I'm a hell of a lot slower these days, and basic tasks like emptying the dishwasher now require breaks, and sometimes I just don't have it in me to bend over to put a pot in the lower cabinet, or stand on my toes to try to place something on the top shelf, so I end up leaving a couple things on the counters for Ben to deal with when he gets home.  I've been doing the bare minimum around the house as I just don't have it in me to do more.  It's not even that I'm tired, but that it takes so much more out of me to do the simplest tasks! 

My sleep cycles have been weird at best.. Before I met Ben, I could easily live off of 4-6 hours of sleep a night - not ideal of course, but I had a pretty active social life on top of working 8-5 every day, so it was what it was.  Ben on the other hand doesn't survive very well on that little sleep, and little by little he converted me to be a 10pm yawner needing at least 8 hours to be any sort of human the following day.  And for the first 2 trimesters I was up to 10 hours or so with frequent naps, but now that I'm 10 times bigger, and 30 pounds heavier, I seem to be just fine with 4-6 hours again!  ... I'm not exactly understanding the logic, however I have read in several books that it's my bodies way of getting me prepped for 2am feedings and such!  Either way, it's a little weird to be wide awake at 4am, and not even feel tired!  Especially since so many books are also telling me to catch up on my sleep because I'm going to need to conserve my energy for labour...  it's kind of a catch 22...  I just hope my little one decides that 10am is a good time to arrive as I know at least for Ben, a middle of the night rush to the hospital is not ideal!

Unfortunately our weather is a little less than ideal when it comes to rushing out in the middle of the night, as winter has hit Edmonton, and our streets are filled with fluffy white snow that is increasing accidents and drive times all over the place - lucky for us, our hospital is literally 6 blocks from our house, so that's less of a concern, but that's also assuming Ben and I are both at home when we hit "Go Time".  I worry about Ben driving back from work in this weather when I go into labour, but I know he has a level head on him, and he would make sure he keeps his emotions in check behind the wheel - it just doesn't make me comfortable.  I would prefer him be with me at that time, but it is what it is, we have bills to pay, and right now Ben's supporting all of us, so work needs to happen for him.

As for myself I handed in my car keys a week ago after a hormone fueled panic attack attempting to drive to the mall.  I went out last tuesday on a very mild weather night (there was snow on the ground, but it was relatively warm and not really too slippery) and I ended up being a complete basket case!  My wheels slid a couple inches on two turns before catching solid ground and I burst into tears!  I ended up turning around and coming home - I didn't even make it to the end of my block, and I was crying my eyes out when I walked back into the house!  Poor Ben must have thought I had been in the car accident of the century! But the truth of the matter is, all I could think of was what could have happened if I HAD been in an accident, and how that air bag was mere inches from the most precious cargo I've every had the privilege to transport.  I hung up my keys then and there, and I've been most content to sit at home during the day, and run errands with Ben in the evenings instead.  It's a bit more of a pain since I can't have all the grocery shopping and running around done before Ben gets home, meaning he has to work all day, and then has to go out at night too - but it is what it is, and that's just how it has to be these days.

It's funny what hormones will do to a person!  If someone had told me last year that they were scared to drive in those same weather conditions, I probably would have laughed - I've driven on roads like that and worse time and time again - winter driving is not my favorite, and I'll freely admit I'm a nervous winter driver (Not because of my abilities, but of all the stupid people on the roads with me, who drive too fast, or don't know how to get out of a slide -etc), but short of an ice storm, I wouldn't have reacted to a brief slide like I did a year ago.  Of course this also falls into the Momma Bear Protection thing too - as I would also never put my child in a risky situation, and to me at that time, I did not at all feel like I would be able to handle that drive.  Thankfully, Ben fully understood my fears, and after letting me sob into his chest and calming me down, the next day he took me over to the mall so I could buy what I needed to.  He even admitted that he feels better when I'm not sitting in front of the wheel with my giant tummy so close to the air bag as well!  (Now whether or not he was just saying that so I didn't feel quite so ridiculous or if he really meant it - I don't care, he said it, and that's all that matters to me).

In baby news, I had my OB appointment, and on a scale of 1-10 (5 being "head to the hospital" and 10 being "push") I'm at a 1, which confirms that I am in early labour - but that doesn't really mean anything since this stage can last from hours to weeks... so basically... I'm still left waiting.  However my OB did tell me that she will only let me be max 10 days over due - which means I will have a baby in my arms at the latest by November 16th.  But at this point - there's really no news!  I'm not much closer, and the days still seem to feel the same for me.  Of course it's not uncommon to go from a 1 to a 4 and skip all the steps in between, or be told "nothing is happening today" and then be holding your baby an hour later.  The body is an amazing thing.  My bags are packed, Ben's got his cell phone on him constantly, and we're just taking everything one day at a time!   One things for certain at this moment - she will have a November birthday now!

Recap! 

How far along? 39 Weeks

Total weight gain: 33 Pounds  - Up 5!  Eep!  It usually wavers around 30 though. 
Inches gained in the waist: 12 1/2” (48” waist now!) ½” bigger, How am I STILL getting bigger?!?!

Maternity clothes?  Not really, I think there are only 2 or 3 maternity shirts that still fit, my pants are sweats, or yoga pants that are rolled down in the front to give my belly come breathing room.  Mostly I wear men’s clothing these days.

Stretch marks?  Not as red/purple, but there are a fair bit on the sides of my tummy!   

Sleep: Short, but it seems to be quality, I feel pretty good when I wake up – it’s just weird to me to be awake early in the mornings!  I was expecting to sleep in till 9am on Mat leave since that has been my natural sleep cycle for most my life (midnight to 9am) but that doesn’t seem to be the case anymore!

Best moment this week:  I can’t really pinpoint a specific event, it was all good 

Miss Anything? Lots of things at this point – I miss the days when putting on shoes was easy – hell even lifting my leg to put on sweat pants – I miss when that was easy too! 

Movement:  Her moves are more like rolling over in bed – she doesn’t really kick these days, it’s stretches, and rolls!  It’s fun to find the odd lumps sticking out!

Food cravings:  Nothing. 

Anything making you queasy or sick:  Nope

Gender: GIRL!     

Labor Signs: bouts of nausea that last a few minutes at a time, as well as lots of cramping and the odd BH contraction.  The signs are becoming more normal, but no patterns yet!  

Symptoms:   What don’t I have?!?

Belly Button in or out? Still in! I don’t think she’s moving!
Wedding rings on or off? Off – I decided to pack away the replacement ring too.  Just in case

Happy or Moody most of the time:  Very Happy!

Looking forward to:   My little one’s arrival!