It Freaks Me Out When People Think My Biggest Concern is the Scar…

Really, I shouldn’t have watched this video….

I am shitting myself.

Move, Baby! Move!

Looking over my old entries, I’m coming to realize just how far behind I am in my updates. In the 10+ weeks since my last post, I saw an OBGYN, got myself a midwife, had another ultrasound (baby still doesn’t want to reveal its naughty bits), gained 10 lbs, had someone couch surf at my place for over 2 months, tried to move out of my apartment (no luck), had a baby shower, started preparing my home for Butterbean, had at least 5 nervous breakdowns about money, decided on a boy’s name (kind of)…

I also spent WAY too much time and energy freaking out about things that turned out to be nothing. The list of complications (that turned out not to be complications at all) seems endless, from high blood pressure (which turned out to be nothing), a bladder infection (which turned out to be ligament pain), a potential detached placenta (ligament pain), a low-lying placenta (which has since moved out of the way), to an incompetent cervix (which is holding up really well – knock wood).

In the face of what I’ve been calling fake complications, a very real worry has sprouted up. My cervix is much shorter than it should be (at around 30 weeks, it was 1.2cm long when it should have been over 3cm, almost 4). A technician accidentally discovered it during a very invasive ultrasound for that low-lying placenta thing, and I was threatened with bed rest until the cervix specialist who my midwife consulted with basically said “Screw it! If you go into labour early, it’s not a big deal. Carry on!”

In that same ultrasound, I was told that Butterbean is in the frank breech position, which means that she’s chilling out in there, bum down, with her legs around her ears. This baby is already trouble! Normally, the baby’s position isn’t a HUGE cause for concern until around 37-40 weeks, but because my cervix is a ticking time bomb of incompetency, I could go into labour at any time. If the baby is in breech position when my water breaks, it basically means an automatic c-section (which I am 100% against).

SO, for the past month or so, Chase and I have been doing everything we can to get Butterbean to turn head-down. I’ve talked to my belly, played music to it, willed the baby to move, did yoga poses, laid for long stretches of time with my butt in the air, crawled on all fours, went to the chiropractor to get the Webster Technique done (7 adjustments later, and no change), had a shiatsu massage, had acupuncture, started taking homeopathic remedies (pulsatilla), pinched my baby toes… I’ve tried stuff I don’t even believe in to get this baby to move; I’ve done practically everything except bury an animal penis in my back yard (and I’d probably do that, too, if someone said it would help).

My midwife scheduled me an ECV (external cephalic version) for this Wednesday. Depending on who you talk to, an ECV is either a very good or very bad idea. Basically, it means that a doctor is going to poke and prod at my belly and push the baby into place. The risks include your water breaking, your baby’s heart rate dropping significantly, and your placenta detaching itself from your uterus (I was told this isn’t a real risk, but something they’re obligated to tell you because it’s HYPOTHETICALLY possible). A version is only successful part of the time, and even when it is, you run the risk of the baby turning bum-down again while you wait to go into labour.

It’s all very stressful. I’m convinced that, despite the fact that my cervix is so tiny, I will carry to term (40 weeks or later), and the baby will probably turn by itself in that time. That being said, if this pregnancy ends in surgery, I would kick myself in the butt if I knew that there was something I could have done to avoid it… Here’s hoping that the baby flips on her own soon, and stays flipped until she’s ready to make her escape.

Here’s a cheery ECV video:

Typical Morag

I have a lot to post about (obviously I have a lot to post about -I haven’t written a thing in over 10 weeks), but every time I sit down to do it, I get overwhelmed and turn my computer off. Note to self: procrastination inevitably leads to more procrastination.

And speaking of procrastination… I’m going to make (and post!) a video sometime this week to make up for my lack of blogging (also, because I am lazy and a spoken recap of the past 3 months seems much easier than a text one). I’m just waiting for some privacy so I don’t die of embarrassment while I tape it.

Baby Swag from Aunt Whitney

Chase and I went to Chesterville to visit my family last weekend, and we were greeted with a huge bag of gifts from my sister (the only person more excited about this baby than I am).

I love everything Whitney got, but this snowsuit is probably my very favourite. The ears kill me!

When I found out I was pregnant, Whit was the first person I told. I called her, crying, saying things like “How am I going to afford a baby?” and “Mom and dad are going to KILL me!” and she was all “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I am going to have a niece or nephew! Are you still going to name her after me?!”

At the risk of sounding like a sappy bastard, I am so happy that my baby is going to grow up knowing her aunt, who is probably my favourite person on earth (if Whitney ever reads this, she’s totally going to roll her eyes).

**Some of the yarn Whitney gave me has already been crafted into a baby blanket. You can check out the details here.

Today I am 24 weeks 2 days pregnant

So Much To Talk About!

…. so little energy to do so! The weekend is coming, though, so once I’ve gotten caught up on my sleep I will craft some entries.

In the meantime, I’ll just say that Butterbean continues to be pretty active. These past few days, she’s really kicked up the pace – so much so that you can now actually SEE her pushing against my stomach. Chase and I watched her move around last night, and this morning I spent too much time during a business meeting observing her pokes and prods as they rippled across my tummy. It is both very creepy, and very cool.

Today I am 23 weeks and 6 days pregnant

My Belly at 23 Weeks

Clearly, I need to start thinking about what I wear in these photos. In this case, I was wearing a dress, and threw on a pair of boxers so as not to show off my underwear. The effect kind of looks like I just fell out of a trailer.

Chase and I take these pics every Friday when we have the time. Sometimes it’s late in the evening when I am dead tired and in my jim jams. Sometimes it’s early in the morning after I’ve just woken up. Sometimes, like in these photos, I am trying to keep it together while I gear up for a long 5-hour car ride and a visit with my family (after a 9-hour workday).

Photos taken on September 4, 2009.
Weight: 128 lbs

Today I am 23 weeks and 6 days pregnant

“You Mean Your Udders?”

It’s comforting to know that I’m not the only one who has noticed a big change in my boobs, but I was a little off put last night when Chase exclaimed “Holy shit, your nipples are HUGE!”.

On my way to bed, I shot back “Me and my huge nipples need some sleep,” to which Chase replied “You mean you and your udders?”

Seriously. They’re gigantic now!

Actually, that was one of the first signs of my pregnancy. Within the first few weeks after conception, my nipples got puffier and I started getting a dark ring around each areola – almost like a perfect, circular bruise. Obviously, judging by my baby daddy’s reaction, they have grown since my first trimester. A lot.

I Have an OBGYN and a Palpable Sense of Dread

Ooh good lord! I stumbled upon this video on YouTube (and by “stumbled upon” I mean it was recommended to me by the YouTube robot because I watch so many videos on birth, YouTube has started to suggest ONLY pregnancy-related vids to me now), and it made me so angry I shut it off half-way through.

I can’t believe they’re using this doll to train medical students about labour. In addition to being hella creepy, it represents everything I hate about hospitalized birth and makes me feel panicky about not going with a midwife (in truth, I tried to get a midwife but my love of my family doctor and my habit for procrastination meant I signed up too late and the good ladies can’t take me because other pregnant women who aren’t slackers require their services).

I am flabbergasted they are training medical students with a doll that doesn’t actually move or talk or think or have feelings or instincts of its own. It’s their perfect patient! And these new doctors are being taught that normal delivery happens while women are on their backs, which, in reality, is one of the hardest positions to labour in. I could go on and on about how wrong this teaching technique is!

My overwhelming feeling right now is that of disgust and fear – mostly at and for myself. Why didn’t I sign up for a midwife when I had the chance?!

Today, my doctor’s office called to tell me that they have an OBGYN for me and I have never been so terrified in my life. This guy had better greet me in birkenstocks with a handful of granola and say things like “I don’t believe in monitoring the baby’s heart rate for the duration of your labour unless there are signs of distress because being tied to a zillion machines is a hinderance to the birthing process” and “no one is going to confine you to a bed. Deliver this baby in whatever way is comfortable for you,” or so help me god, I’m going to fire him and make Chase catch this baby by himself in my tiny apartment bathtub!

Today I am 23 weeks and 4 days pregnant

My Belly at 22 Weeks

Photos taken August 28, 2009
Weight: 128.5 lbs

As I uploaded these photos to Flickr, Butterbean was thumping around in my lower abdomen so hard, I could almost feel it in my bum. His kicks have been feeling more like huge, clumsy butterflies on the inside of my stomach rather than the usual taps against my outer tummy today.

In the front-facing photo up there, you can kind of get an idea of how I have been jerry-rigging my pants together for the past few months (I am poor and, as a result, have yet to buy any actual maternity clothes). I have these wicked “tummy sleeves” (“tummy sleeve” being the official name for the ones I purchased from Motherhood Maternity, but I’ve been calling them “belly bands” from day 1), that are essentially tube tops for your gut (see black band in photos). They are designed to keep your pants on long after you’ve abandoned all hope of getting them buttoned/zipped up. The bottom half of the band goes around the top of your pants, enough to hide your open zipper and underwear, and the top half of the band goes next to your skin, under your shirt. It creates the illusion that you’re wearing a long tank top or something, rather than a pregnancy girdle.

You can also see the elastic I’ve been looping through my button hole as an extra (but probably unnecessary) pant-holding precaution should the belly band fail me. I learned the trick from the YouTube video below. I’ve had to modify the technique a little bit as I’ve gotten bigger, but that’s basically the idea. Eventually, I will buy some real maternity pants but I’m going to hold off for as long as possible.

We Might Be Having a Boy!

Now that Chase and I have more or less officially decided not to find out the sex of the baby until he or she is born, I’m feeling a little guilty about constantly referring to the Butterbeanio as a girl. Maybe she’s really a boy. I joke about it a lot, but maybe I will be so used to calling him a “her” that the habit will continue after birth and it will cause all sorts of identity issues in my son’s later life – maybe when he’s in the throes of a midlife crisis or deciding to join the army or something? (I don’t really know what the army has to do with anything, but I’m tired so please just let that slide. I’m too lazy to go back and delete it)

I feel like something needs to be done to thwart this potential identity crisis. I need to get used to the idea that, (even though I’m pretty convinced this baby is a girl), Butterbean could be a penis-carrying member of the male sex.

I have decided to refer to Butterbean as a girl during the odd weeks of my pregnancy, and as a boy during the even. That way, I get used to using gender-specific pronouns equally for both a girl AND a boy. I figure, using this method, if I slip up and refer to my son as a girl after birth, it will only be about 50% of the time.

Today I am 21 weeks 6 days pregnant