Xmas Elf

Baby (and Mama) Stats

So Bodhi had his 2 month check up this week, and scored well.

He weighs 13 pounds and 2 ounces, which puts him in the 80th percentile; nearly 25 inches long, putting him in the 95th percentile, and a head circumference I can't remember that puts him in the 80th percentile.

Do we have a tall brawny boy or what?

He was so adorable this morning, kicking his legs vigorously while cooing and squealing, waving his arms around like a Maestro.

In fact, my nicknames for him include

The Maestro
Kicky Kickerson
Hiccups McGee


...so far.

He enjoys yoga with mama and tai chi with papa. It all makes sense.

My parents enjoyed their first Christmas with Bodhi. My father asked my mother, "Do they ever put the baby down?" And the answer, now that I think about it, is "Not really." He is held about 90 percent of the time. In a couple of months hopefully we'll have gotten him to nap longer in his crib and his swing. I do have a lot of gadgets that hold him when we don't: Baby Bumbo (thanks to Jen Plemons and Mia!), Baby Bjorn, Gymini, swing, Baby Papasan...all great tools when mom needs to put baby down for a few.

We also use a pacifier now. I explain to him, as I offer it to him, that it helps him get organized and should also help soothe him. He buys that. So far no nipple confusion, not that I can tell anyway. We also try to give him a bottle every couple of days. I am pumping about once a day. It's nice for papa to be able to feed him when I can't. It helps when we go out (I still haven't braved breastfeeding in public yet) or when I have to be somewhere for awhile and papa is home alone with baby.

Anyway. TMI for all you new mommies. I have found it incredibly valuable and liberating to hang out and exchange tidbits with my new mom friends. In fact, joining my new moms group has probably literally saved my life. I'm going to join a new one, facilitated by my parenting mentor, Carrie Contey.

In other news, I've been able to read fiction again! Yes! All hail the mighty bathtub reading! And the night reading, by the bathroom light, while everyone else sleeps.

And in other news, I go back to teaching yoga next week. I'm excited and anxious, since I don't have much of a practice these days. It's getting there. But MAN is my front body sore! My quads are wound tight. My abdominal muscles (I can still feel them) are tight and sore. I imagine those uterine ligaments are snapping back into place. And my hip flexors are excruciatingly tight. But I am trying to work everything and build back some core strength. I have a belly for the first time in my life, really, and it is big and round! Cute!

Oh, and my episiotomy is finally healed, according to my doctor. I dunno, it's still pretty tender.

Baby's First

Christmas...including grandparents, uncle and aunt, Christmas lights, tree, presents, carols, "It's A Wonderful Life" etc

Trip to grocery store; excited and wide eyed at first, taking it all in...soon passed out, to the point where mama feared babe was unconscious and had to take him out of carrier to jostle him awake

Outing at a restaurant; God bless Elsi's on Burnet!

Hikes in local parks: Walnut Creek, Mayfield, St. Edward's

Movie in a theater: "Baby Day" at the Alamo Drafthouse-- "Walk Hard"

And today, his first time to nurse in the baby carrier.

Jenn told me that one day I'd be nursing while cooking dinner. I hardly believed her. But now I can see it! I nursed while doing the dishes and laundry!

All these Baby Firsts are of course Firsts for mama and papa too.

Happy Christmas Day Hikers

yoga mama, heal thyself

While I work on my Dark Side of Mothering blog posts, here is some info for you yoginis out there.

I go back to teaching in just a couple of weeks -- yikes! -- so I'm working on building my strength back. I have a LOT of fear and freakout stored in my hips and shoulders.

So I'm doing downward dog pushups, and I'm back up to 30 a day.

Today I held my handstand at the wall for awhile, and I was able to kick up into pincha mayurasana and hold it for a few seconds! Woo hoo!

My right shoulder has been wonky/injured since the beginning of my pregnancy, and it dawned on me today that doing the most strenuous work on it -- urdhva dhanurasana -- would heal it. So today, for the first time in almost a year, I went up into my beloved backbend. I did it on blocks, at the wall, 3 times. And yes, the fear was great, and my shoulder was weak, but it felt fantastic. I stretched out my psoas and my ultratight quads for quite a while beforehand, in supta virasana and in YES, HANUMANASANA.

And yesterday I was able to go from downward dog into plank into chaturanga dandasana into upward dog. I even put the baby on the mat between my hands and kissed him on the way down!

I plan to return to my full badassedness before too much longer. It is really remarkable how much anxiety there is in this body now. Issues in the tissues, anyone? Nothing a little sweat and faith can't cure.

My upholstered body has been preventing me from doing any "bound" poses, so those will return once I've lost a little more pudge, but I figured out just the other day that to ease the pain in my hips AND build back my leg and pelvis strength I need to do a lot of one-legged standing poses. I'm proud to say that today I managed to go from garudasana into vira III into ardha chandrasana into sugar cane pose (sorry, but I've lost my Sanskrit, along with the last names of many friends whose last names I used to know before I got pregnant and had a baby) !

The yoga of breastfeeding is way more rigorous than any of this asana stuff, I tell you what.

Oh, and yesterday we took baby Andrew Bodhi to see his first movie in the theater. It was baby day at the Alamo Drafthouse! Yay!

AND he got to see the 37th Street Christmas lights.

Way cool baby outings for new parents, by the way.

Hello!

Dark Side of Mothering: Improv 101, BF'ing 102

Last January (almost a year ago!) I started taking an Improv class for Beginners. It was just about the most exhilaratingly fun thing I had ever done in my life; it was truly one of those experiences that gives you the sense that "YES, this is what I was BORN to do!"

Unfortunately, I was 4 weeks pregnant at the time and got too sick to continue.

And now I'm not sure when exactly I'll get back to it.

But it was so profound. It was nonstop, silly fun, true. But it was also a real lesson in learning how to let go and, most importantly, how to fail. Failure has never been easy for me. Especially in performance. But in Improv, it is not only essential that you learn to fail gracefully, but some of the funniest material can only emerge if and when you do. You also have to learn to play well with others. Give up the center stage every now and then and say "yes" instead of " no."

It occurs to me that those few Improv classes I took before I got really morningsick and had to put it on hold are the closest thing to being a new parent I have ever experienced.

The best moments, the really fun times, are usually when things are going horribly, horribly wrong. And your challenge is to figure out how to deal with it THAT INSTANT.

Like for instance, just the other day, as baby and I were saying goodbye to Sally, his craniosacral therapist, as she walked out the door, he coughed and I suddenly had spit up in my cleavage.

"I've got spitup in my cleavage!" I announced to the neighborhood. Sally started laughing.

Then we exchanged Spectacular Poop stories. In hers, she was changing a client's baby's diaper (she's also a doula) and he PROJECTILE POOPED across the room, which was small, aiming straight for the computer and pile of bills on his parents' desk. Sally, acting quickly -- IMPROV -- held out her cupped hands to catch the poo as it arced through the air, narrowly missing the puter keyboard. I told her I always kind of wanted to send the IRS some poop with my payments.

My Spectacular Poop story occurred a few days ago, while I was breastfeeding Andrew Bodhi and talking on the phone with my dear friend Mark, who lives in Southern California. He was laughing about "Mr. Hanky in yoga class" or some such thing, when I heard the telltale grunt-n-squirt. "Uh oh," I told him. And kept on talking. (Cuz, you see, AB's poops have changed since he hit 6 weeks; he pooped several times a day for awhile, then suddenly dropped down to one or 2 giant poops every few days.) Then I decided to look down at my precious baby boy, and lo and behold, there was pewp EVERYWHERE. His back. His arms. His onesie. His Boppy. My thighs. My elbow.

"Andrew!" I called out to Big Daddy Andrew, who appeared from the other room immediately. He was literally half-shaven, white foamy cream covering just his right cheek, jaw, and neck. He must have heard something plaintive and desperate in my summons. He took the baby to the changing table, laughing.

I grudgingly hung up the phone, believing that I had escaped poop contamination, thinking it had only spilled onto my yoga pants. Boy was I wrong. I stripped down and realized it had gotten all over my belly, enough to warrant a shower. Which I thoroughly enjoyed.

It's the little things, the accidental moments, that are so delightful.

Bodily functions are once again hilarious. Baby's farts are hysterically funny to me. They are so un-filtered and un self-conscious. And loud! Good lord!

The other day Lanell was saying in our new mamas group how she so wished someone would write the TRUTH about breastfeeding and those first few weeks as a new mom. I agree. And my friend Kristine was saying how Judy Blume should've written the truth about labor and birth and being a new mom.

I have thought about leading a workshop in which we get to write those stories. As some of you know, I'm ga-ga for leading writing workshops in which women tell their truths.

I was so grateful that Lanell brought that up, as well as the fact that most of us are in such a fog for the first few weeks after the birth that we don't really have the Whatever it would take to write about It. Consequently, most of what we read about breastfeeding and post partum is very vague, or glows with the joys and thrills of it all, and not the darker parts.

I mean yes, you will read and hear "Breastfeeding can be hard." But not that it can be devastating. That you will cry, either in physical or psychic pain. That you will hear ten million conflicting opinions, and that the truth is every day, every hour, every minute is different. That there are rhythms and cycles and untold factors that make your situation and your baby so very unique.

In the hours and days that followed our grueling, fucked up birth experience in the hospital, I was bloated and bleeding and starved and in pain, but that didn't stop the hourly lactation consultants from coming to our room to show me new techniques for breastfeeding. Never before had so many different people prodded and pulled and manipulated my tender nipple tissue. It wasn't exactly the kind of group nipple handling of my dreams.

So while I appreciated on some deep feminist level that we had given birth in such a breastfeeding-friendly hospital, I felt kind of brutalized by all the lactation consultation. That said, there was one LC who can be credited with keeping our baby out of the NICU. She taught me how to feed him the colostrum I was producing in the beginning, which stablized his blood sugar and kept his glucose levels within acceptable (non-formula supplementing) range. She also came to our house a few weeks after he was born and told me to throw away the standard positions for babies breastfeeding and how to use my yogic knowledge about alignment...to his benefit.

Here is a truth you may or may not hear about breastfeeding: IT FUCKING HURTS. I'm not even talking about cracked or sore nipples. I'm talking about an effective, longterm, daily activity that also has its pleasures and rewards. And when it hurts, and someone tells you it's because you're not doing it right, tell them to kiss your flabby post partum ass. You are going to hear so much that will undermine your confidence as a new mom, it's not acceptable for anyone to tell you that BF'ing (uh huh) shouldn't hurt. It will hurt, and you will be told your LATCH is all wrong, which it may be...but then you will spin out in worry that if baby's latch is wrong baby is not getting enough to eat (which you will be worrying about anyway...if you're not worrying that he or she is eating too much) and you will become even more vulnerable than you already are.

And by "you" I mean "me."

It's like my friend Jenn said to me in those first couple of weeks: "One day you'll be standing at the stove, cooking dinner while breastfeeding." And "You'll be able to whip out your breasts and feed anywhere, anytime. They will become like LEATHER."

I love that. Boobs of Spanish Leather.

To compound the insanity, your baby will inevitably lose weight after his or her birth. Our baby weighed 9 pounds and 15 ounces at birth, and indeed resembled a pugilist as soon as he was born. He'd been beating up on my cervix for 3 days, it was no wonder! And they had pumped me with no less than 3 liters of fluid and god knows how much pitocin and epidural fluid. So when he dropped down to 9 pounds and 1 ounce, our unflappable pediatrician calmly encouraged us to get his weight up, and I FREAKED OUT. I don't know what I thought; perhaps that if he didn't weigh at least 10 pounds by the next pedi visit, they'd confiscate my baby?

(What I would have given for some BRAWNDO -- it's got electrolytes! -- at any moment during this time!)

Our calm doula, also an LC, had us supplement little Marlon Brando with breast milk I had pumped in a bottle. The pugilist started packing on an ounce a day, but I was miserable anyway. I felt like a failure as a person, as a mom. I was still recovering from a 3rd degree episiotomy, the runs, vicodin poisoning, exhaustion, starvation, and sleep deprivation. It was the perfect storm for going insane. But I was determined to breastfeed and nourish Bodhi the best way I could. (And yes, it helped when my friend Heather wrote me about her troubles BF'ing and how her husband Matt said that at worst baby would get formula and still be healthy and thriving.)

Uh oh, beloveds. Little Andrew Bodhi is sitting on my lap as I type this, sawing toothpicks, and he just woke up and started gnawing on his wrist. For those of you who may not know what that means, it means he's divined all this breastfeeding talk and is waking up HUNGRY!

More on all of this later.

And more on the Dark Side of Mothering.

Before and After Pacifier

the good news

i can feel my abdominal muscles again!

yoga every day; last night i did my first handstand (at the wall) since march!

we have a christmas tree

baby was cracking himself up at the breast this morning

we dropped the goodwill box off at goodwill

i put my wedding ring back on (it's been several months)

i can drink coffee again

one hand typing

enjoying being mama so much

babe is gaining weight and looking adorable
so round and with big smiles for mom every morning

feeding all night napping all day

active, smiling with eyes, whole body

arms, legs, eyes, tongue

vocal

lit up, sunny

angelic

passionate

demanding

pure love

Baby's First Look!

Papa Got A Brand New Bag

Gobble Gobble

Nearly Human

Today felt like the first day I was myself again.

Slept in until 1 pm with baby feeding and napping intermittently; Papa was able to wrap and hold baby when he wasn't eating, so Mama got to rest more.

Eating well myself; I lost 30+ pounds in the first 2 weeks of postpartum.

Baby enjoyed watching Mama do yoga today for the first time in forever. It felt fantastic, and I am much stronger than I thought I'd be. No Hanumanasana just yet, but that is my goal.

I can't wait to do backbends and go upside down again!!!

My 3rd degree episiotomy is feeling much better, even with a torn stitch.

Baby is getting bigger and is more vocal and focused. We have a lot of fun with him. He smiles!

So for all these things, and for all of you, we give Thanks.

Out of the Woods?

Friends--

As many of you know, we experienced a very difficult, very traumatic labor and birth. I do blame the medical institutionalization of birth for it, and I will write the story and post it here for you to read. I have been holding off on that, needing instead to process it with friends, a specialist in PPD/Baby Blues, and in my own soul.

I've never really had anything like depression. I know I'm lucky for that reason. My baseline truly is "happy" and "content." I have dark parts, of course, but nothing hormonal or chemical. I've always sympathized with those who suffer from depression, and now I know how devastating it can feel.

I also know that this will not last forever.

I feel that now, with lots of work and love, I have begun to move past the suffering we endured and move into the bliss of enjoying my baby and being a new mommy!

His body is covered in soft sweet skin and his mother's tears, his father's kisses.

Brigitte told me the other day that the word for "baby" in Bali translates into "one whose feet never touch the ground."

We hold him, cradle him, love him, rock him, swaddle him, swing him, bounce him all in our arms. It's lovely. I love that his feet never touch the ground. He has met many of his relatives; it really touches me that so many people have been anxious to meet him. His aunt Maria was here last weekend. My uncle Ken and aunt Jean were here and all got to hold him and let him know how loved he is by so many people.

He has become more interactive these days, smiling and cooing and "talking" to me both while breastfeeding and while just hanging out. I tell him all the time that he is my favorite person in the world, and he is.

I try to take him outside at least once a day. We tried taking him out in his stroller tonight -- it's so mild and peaceful out -- but he didn't dig it. We will try again.

He rides like a champ in the car.

He loves hanging out with Papa, especially in his wrap. Papa loves working with baby on board.

I'm getting more sleep; we like to take long naps between feedings. And that includes my feedings.

My friends have rallied and brought us food almost every other day of Andrew Bodhi's life; this has meant so much to all of us, and the food that's been brought has been CRAZY DEL ICIOUS.

We will spend Thanksgiving here at Uncle Mike's house.

And I will write more and more, especially as we get this feeding/sleeping thing worked out. Right now the two Andrews are watching a movie.

But I wanted ya'll to know it was safe/good to call us now, to come over, to hang out and chat. I still welcome high-calorie snacks and food, smoothies, good company, loving friendship. Trashy magazines. CD mixes.

Hi, I'm Cute

Dark Night of the Soul, Best Thing That Ever Happened To Me

Bodhi Foot

23 inches long at birth
9 pounds 15 ounces
his feet are about 4 centimeters long and grip like fingers and taste divine

Baby Bodhi Pix

My Angel

What's it like to be brand new?

On Being Human

Wow, beloveds.

Amazing what a hot bath will do for a girl.

I went into the hospital a pregnant lady and I came out a Mom.

I went into the hospital while it was still summer and I came out and it was fall.

Breastfeeding = challenging. But I know it will be worth it.

The word for the day? For the week? TRANSFORMATION.

Little Andrew Bodhi is even more beautiful than I ever imagined. And his father is the most amazing man I have ever seen. I love him more than ever.

Thanks to all the angels who have been bringing us food, sympathy, love and friendship. And to my awesome lactation consultants Dawn and Beverly.

I was taking that hot bath tonight and scanned my tummy to see something I haven't seen in a long while: my belly button. She's back.

You are all in my thoughts and I appreciate the Love you send.

More to come.

If you want to bring us food please contact Jennifer -- jlulina at gmail dot com

And if you do come by please don't be offended if we're unable to really visit with you. I know everyone wants to see the baby, and you will have your chance soon...I'm hoping to get him through these first 6 weeks alive without catching any colds or flus or other illnesses that we were warned to vaccinate against but chose not to. Being a mom = paranoia.

Born To Be Absolutely Wild

Beloveds:

Just a quick note. Many of you know already that Andrew Bodhi was born Monday evening, October 22, after nearly 70 hours of what can only be described as a transformational labor and delivery and birth experience.

I will write the story soon. And post pictures. He has dark dark hair and eyes and incredibly expressive hands and feet. We are all madly in love.

He is exquisite in every way to us. He weighed 9 pounds 15 ounces and was 23 inches long at birth. Mama, Papa, and Baby (and Grandma) are all resting (trying) and recovering at home.

Please give us our space for now; stay tuned for very sporadic updates. And cute pics!

Let the Birth Show Begin

At midnight last night I dragged Andrew to the gym again to ride the treadmill for a good 20-30 minutes. We came home and both of us thought we were getting sick. When I woke at 430 I was in a big sweat.

I got up to pee and was having a fairly intense contraction/surge in my lower abdomen. In the bathroom, I discovered my Birth Show. (google that term, along with Hypnobirthing) So exciting!!!

So the labor officially begins.

We are going for a long, luxurious, all-day sleep/eat/drink fluids/labor-a-thon. So far I've managed to wake up every two hours, have a really intense surge or 2, or 3 or 4, (like about every 10 minutes or so) check the progress of my Birth Show, and somehow go back to sleep.

The sensations are QUITE intense, and they are getting more so as we go. I've spent a lot of time with a hot shower pointed at my low back -- sweet relief! -- and in bed, breathing deep deep deep into every surge.

It has never felt better to exhale. WOW, what a fantastic feeling THAT is!

Meanwhile, we've called our family members in Houston in case anyone

---hello! that was a good one! ay yi yi! --

wants to rent a hotel room for the next night or two

I am calling my acupuncturist in an hour or so to come over with her TENS unit and needles and expertise in managing the labor points, and we'll call our doula to come when the surges reach 5 minutes apart, last 1 minute long each, and are like that for an hour.

I haven't begun walking around to "get things moving" -- I'm lying down and really merging my breath with the surges. It may take longer to "get things moving," but I feel that each surge produces lot of endorphins, and I want as much of that in my system as possible.

This is what we want: to labor at home for as long and quietly as possible, then when we hit that 5 1 1 mark have our doula come over, see if we need to get ourselves to the hospital, and spend a little while in the hospital with everyone in the waiting room until Hercules makes his debut!

I'm really pleased that he chose to come now so that we didn't have to do a "medical induction." I think it's going to be a better birth experience for him, and I know it will be for me. Of course we're still open to whatever happens.

The sensations not what I thought they'd be like, exactly; they are more like super hardcore intense menstrual cramps than anything else. I thought they'd be more like the Braxton Hicks, tightening and gripping, toning that uterine muscle. But instead they are more like expanding than contracting, much more. I can feel the top of my uterus drawing up and putting the squeeze on the cervix, which responds by opening even more.

My water hasn't released yet, which is great.

You guys know me; I want to take my time here.

We'll see what Hercules has planned.

For those of you who requested a call, you'll get one once we've decided to leave the house.

I can already feel myself having shifted into another world, into Laborland.

If I'm able I will post another blog entry. If not, the next time you check here you will hopefully get to see a picture of Hercules in his full, newborn glory!

Fast Update

Well, we went to the obgyn first thing this morning as part of our deal to keep tabs on baby while we "wait" on inducing labor.

We got great news all around!

Baby fared very well on his nonstress test, and they registered a number of contractions as well. Everyone in the office was whooping and hollerin' for us.

My ob came in and examined me and said that I am 75% effaced and about 1 cm dilated!!!!

I can't even tell you how fantastic this news was for us. I've been so jealous of all my pregnant mama friends who have been dilated for weeks or whatever. Not that it means much, except that Hercules is making his descent!

It's like waiting for a loved one to return from a long trip overseas...and the boards keep reading "flight delayed" or they're circling, and you're waiting, just waiting...

I've been having contractions...no wait, let's start calling them SURGES, today again. I only slept about 3 hours last night, so I'm now going straight to bed.

We expect baby boy to make his way to the gate this weekend.

Our doctor even said to us today, "It looks like you made the right choice in waiting." NO SHIT! YAY!


Stay tuned.

Overdue

It sounds more like a library book than a baby.

Hercules is enjoying himself a little too much in mama's womb; who can blame him?

We managed to postpone the induction until next week. (My goal is to NOT have one.) Meanwhile I am getting some kickass massage, acupuncture, and feeling a lot of intense practice contractions for a few hours every night.

My mom drove in last night and is staying with us. It's kind of fun having her around.

It feels like we are as ready as we'll ever be, and now it's just all God. Or something like that.

For "natural induction" I'm walking more, getting those treatments I mentioned, and just really connecting with this being who lives inside me. Really connecting my uterus to my pelvis to my hips to my legs to the earth. It feels good. Drinking raspberry and nettle tea. Breathing deeply and satisfyingly. Sleeping as much as I can. Putting my toes and fingers in the grass. Eating spicy foods, just not Thai papaya salad.

Listening to my relaxation CDs.

Driving around in my Prius, scoffing at all the SUV drivers.

My astrologer friend says today is the day.

Well.

We'll just have to see now, won't we?

Wednesday Update

Just got back from another acupuncture treatment; baby really seems to enjoy them!

I've been driving around in my new (used) Prius and it is SUCH a blast!

I woke up this morning feeling so much better than when I went to bed last night. (Of course I was awake from 2-5 am, and chose to eat a ton of salsa while I watched bad TV, which I feel was very productive.) I started having tightening and contracting again, which was at its peak around 8 am this morning. I wake up with my uterus tight as a football.

The baby is moving around a lot. I can't tell if he's dropping any lower, but we are doing all we can to entice him down the birth canal.

So we decided that instead of going into the hospital tonight to begin the induction process that we would wait, go into the doc's office every couple of days to do a nonstress (aka a stress) test to make sure baby is still moving well and alive, and hope that he decides to start labor on his own.

My intuition is strongly telling me that this will be okay. And it will be okay, no matter what. We will see our doctor again this afternoon, and she may again try to persuade us to induce, and we may weaken again, but generally I'm feeling that all is right and well with the world, and instead of moping around all sad and fearful I'm going to TRUST that this is the right thing.

Further Update

Lord I am so tired!

Basically, my doctor was really cool about the induction. We have more options than ever now.

So we have not made any decisions yet. Just know that mama, papa, and baby are all currently very healthy, though not in hard labor, and we appreciate all the good thoughts coming our way.

And I got yet another acupuncture treatment today, will have another tomorrow.

Love the weather. Love it.

Ultra Update

Just got back from my ultrasound.

Baby looks great; plenty of movement, big feet, good diaphragm/practice breathing, head down, lower in pelvis, etc. Placenta? Great. Amniotic fluid? Perfect. Heartbeat? Perfect.

Now I am going in for a long nap. Still feel the sensations in my low back and belly, am hoping for a long early labor and not a PHONY FALSE labor.

Sigh. Update after doctor's appt this afternoon.

Open for Biz

I opened the blog back up because so many people were having trouble accessing it.

I've been up since 2 am with cramping, tightening, surging...could just be early false labor, could be the start of something. I've tried to rest, I've tried to relieve it...nothing really quite works. Bring it on.

No waters releasing, no birthy show.

Just keep your eyes peeled and we'll post a notice here, or if you requested an email from Andrew, check your inbox.

So exciting! I have an 8 am ultrasound, and a 1245 appt with my doctor. I guess we'll know more soon?

The Magic Power of Yoga

I just got home from a later-evening prenatal class with Dawn.

Thank Shiva!!

Here is my joy. It's remembering the breath. It's opening and expanding with each inhale, being Shakti Herself. It's being surrounded by beauty, and pregnant moms to be as well as moms to be already, hearing what everyone is going through on this wild ride. It's hearing all the great news about how there are millions of ways to give birth, that we have been doing this together for a LONG TIME, that no matter what, little Hercules will be born any day now.

I also know that this earthly plane is a paradise. I never take that for granted.

I'm grateful to my beloved friends for their strength and support. I'm grateful that I don't have to be invincible at all times, or all-knowing, or the perfect yogini or the perfect woman.

I'm grateful remembering that it's all Shakti. That I am perfect and whole, JUST AS I AM. That this fear is merely a state of contraction, of being closed up like a fist, and that the expansion will begin and I will open again and flood the world with my light. (And various fluids from my body, yo.)

And then I'll see.

I got an email from a friend who is a yogini and also an L&D nurse at Seton. She saw that I was scheduled for induction this week, and she had great words of support and excitement for me. She offered to send one of her friends to take care of me, since she was not going to be there.

I felt so gladdened by this. Just knowing there is love for me out there, that there is the support I need, that someone is really watching out for me and caring.

I told her we may or may not be there. And we may or may not.

But no matter what, once again, LOVE is stronger than any other force in the universe. And God works in mysterious ways, sending emails from Melissa or Ruth, or comments from Jen and Ravyn. I am listening. Hooray!

The Daily Grinder

Ugh.

Just feeling so down. To quote Lucinda Williams: "You took my joy and I want it back!"

Ultrasound first thing tomorrow, then a visit to talk about the induction with my doctor later in the day. I have a million questions. First one: "WHAT THE FUCK?"

Another intensive labor-induction treatment with acupuncturist today; it just seems like the baby is in the same spot, getting bigger but not dropping down any lower, and the Braxton Hicks are about the same. As in NOTHING SEEMS TO BE CHANGING.

I really would not give a damn if the seed had not been planted that by going over the due date I was asking for all kinds of trouble. There is actually evidence that this could be the case; I really don't want to risk the baby's life, or my life.

So I'm back in the place of fear, and feeling out of control, and it sucks ass. One step, one day, one breath at a time.

I actually have a whole lot of options at this point, including doing nothing at all.

Meanwhile I'll continue with the acupuncture, the massages, the ecstatic prostaglandin and oxytocin production via nipple stimulation etc, walking, praying, laughing, eating spicy food, EPO, pineapple, castor oil, enemas, whatever it takes, all that stuff.

If only Hercules would think to himself, "I am just about cooked! These people seem pretty nice; think I'll start that oxytocin flowin'."

In other news, we're leaving the house in about 5 minutes to go pick up the new car we just bought: a 2005 Prius!

Mama Bear Cave

I'm trying to relax now.

PLEASE don't take it personally if I don't call you back or if my emails back to you are short; many people are contacting me asking how I am, if we've given birth yet, etc. I just don't have the energy to talk on the phone...and you will certainly be notified here on this blog or by email when the baby is born.

Most of all I'm going into my Mama Bear Cave, a little melancholy, a little depressed, a little bit needing to be alone with my body and my soul.

I kind of freaked out on Friday, thinking about what my doctor's partner said to me on Thursday when I went in for my weekly series of tests: "You'd hate to lose the baby now after all this time, wouldn't you?" She was warning me that over-40 moms have higher rates of stillborn when they go over their Due Date, and she was pressuring me to schedule an induction next week.

I didn't respond to this until Friday, when I woke up in a cold sweat, feeling suddenly out of control of my son's birth and my own desires for a natural labor and delivery, and listened to my doctor's nurse's voice on my voicemail, telling me they had already scheduled the induction for me.

Noooooooo!

I went to yoga class, got a long nurturing massage, acupuncture, and have been in close contact with my doula and my hypnobirthing instructor. There is no medical evidence to suggest a higher rate for stillborn in over-40 moms, according to hypno teacher. And if we can negotiate it with my doctor, we can stretch out the testing for up to a week after his due date, and try to avoid having to induce.

It's not the worst thing in the world to have to medically induce labor, but I would hate to do it if it is not necessary; ie, if my baby is going to induce his own labor. The medical induction can lead to a cesarean pretty quickly, since it may not work at all, at which point they have no choice but to do a c-birth.

So I'm also making my peace with a c-birth, which is still a spiritual and sacred form of birth. Thank the gods for cesareans; I might not have many of my beloved friends or their children surrounding me if they weren't available!

I am feeling quite crampy today, and I just keep on drinking my raspberry and nettle tea. Plus, get this: I have been WALKING. Yes. It's killing my pubic bone, but if it helps Hercules make his descent, by God I'll do it. And I can always come home and bounce on my birth ball, which relieves a lot of the pain.

Change in the Weather

Beloveds,

I changed my privacy settings so that only people who really want to read my blog can access it.

I found that there are some pregnancy fetishists out there who search for pictures and video of preggers ladies to add to their collection of jackoff material, and I just decided, at this late date, that I really don't feel like adding to that right now.

I know, it's ironic, that Fearless Feminist Pornographer would take that stand, but I'm just so vulnerable at the moment. Maybe I'll switch back to a public blog soon; I do like it that older moms and yoga moms can find me.

And speaking of self-induced ecstasy, I've been generating quite a bit of oxytocin this last week.

I've made it my mission to RELAX myself as baby as much as possible these last few days of being pregnant.

And in the morning, as well as at night, there's a cool crispness to the air that tells me Fall is here.

Some Information

People have been asking about our birth choices.

Here are the specs:

Dr. Diana Weihs, ObGyn, of Women Partners in Health

Delivering at Seton Central Hospital

Birth being attended by Dawn Martin, doula and lactation consultant

as well as

Sarai Stapleton, acupuncturist


We are delivering at the hospital partly because of my age (it is rare that a birthing center or midwife will accept a client my age) but mostly to have emergency equipment on hand if it is needed. We are planning a natural, drug-free birth with minimal intervention. We are hoping that it will be a Hypnobirth. A conscious birth at the very least.

We are aware that it is going to be what it wants to be, and that any birth is a sacred, spiritual event no matter how many machines are hooked up to the mom and baby.

I'm hoping someday that Austin will have as progressive a birthing community and hospital scene as Portland, Oregon. If Seton allowed waterbirths, I would be doing that.

I feel that we are going to have the best of all possible worlds with our doula and our hospital.

Our pediatrician is Dr. Michael Bayer. We chose him for many reasons, not the least of which is that he is very laid back about vaccination.

We are not going to have our son circumsized.

We plan to cloth diaper.

We plan to breastfeed. I hope to be able to breastfeed for at least a year or two.

I plan to go back to teaching in January. Yes, I hope to teach pre and post natal as well as "regular" classes. I can't wait to incorporate Anusara principles into pre and post natal yoga.

I don't know when I'll start my massage practice up again. I'm thinking I will study prenatal bodywork, and start working with my acupuncturist to help women who are trying to get pregnant, and help women who are trying to get pregnant to personalize their yoga practice for maximum fertility and joy.

Mercury Retrograde Baby

Well, it looks like good news for little Hercules.


"There are people who never seem to be affected during Mercury retrogrades. Chances are they were born during one! Millions of people are. How do these weeks affect them? Well, Mercury retrograde babies thrive. Things appear easier for them and run smoothly. They get the new job, start building the new house, and travel to fun-filled destinations. If you’re one of these people, you’ll have the edge on everyone else!"

also:

"Finally, what about people born with Mercury retrograde? If you are due to give birth to a baby during this period, don't fret. The ancients felt that this aspect lends a more philosophical tone to the character. Mercury rules thinking, therefore an individual born with this aspect tends to reflect deeply over events and issues throughout their lifetimes. In this case, having this aspect could be a big plus!"

ObGyn Report

So I'm going in every week to do a biophysical profile of the baby via ultrasound, followed by an exam of my cervix, followed by a non-stress test on the baby.

Now I can see how and why some women consider these tests invasive. I'm still trying to enjoy them, but I can feel the pressure building on artificially inducing labor, which I do not want to do.

Every week the results are very good. The baby has dropped down deeper in the pelvis, he's head down, butt up, he still kicks around a lot, there's plenty of amniotic fluid left, placenta looks great, my cervix is soft but not dilated, I have gained no more weight, baby's NST is awesome.

Based on the ultrasound, they think he weighs about 8 pounds 15 ounces...give or take a pound in either direction.

I can feel him pressing down lower into my pelvis. It's very heavy. More pee pee. More often.

Luckily the office was so busy today my question about getting a flu shot got lost in the shuffle. I take that as a sign from God that I am not meant to have one.

They mentioned induction again today; his due date is next Tuesday. SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT IT ALREADY! Dang. I understand why MDs get concerned about "over 40 moms." But there really doesn't need to be this culture of fear around it. I know, and you know, that they're not gonna make me do anything I don't want to do, but come on man.

Meanwhile, I am going to do everything I know how to do to let him know we are READY. More acupuncture, more raspberry and nettle tea, another massage of the forbidden points, and most of all RELAXATION. Nothing lets a cervix know she's okay and can just go ahead and let go and open like taking it nice and easy.

It's interesting that now Mercury is going into retrograde. My astrologer friend always assures me (a Gemini, ruled by Mercury) that it's really just a signal to take it easier, slower, and go even deeper into self-reflection. Mercury is the planet that governs communications. So many times there are mixups, miscommunications, computers going down...

I know that it's futile to try to sign contracts, for example.

But I don't know what it means to be born during Mercury retrograde. Perhaps it'll be a good thing for Hercules, given his Mercurial mother who tends to make snap decisions and say things before she should. Maybe it'll mean he's going to be a deep thinker and feeler.

Now if you'll excuse me I need to go have a heart to heart talk with my cervix. If everyone could just visualize those rose petals opening...

The Pit Remains in the Olive

Plenty of practice contractions last night, but no baby yet.

I went into a mini-frenzy of packing for the hospital and rounding up all the stuff I want to bring with us: snacks, books, pillows, music, artwork, my Ganesha lunchbox and my Ganesha statue.

Friend Jessica called and left me a voicemail saying she had a dream about me, that I gave birth to our baby through intense focus and devotion, and that I sprouted wings! She said it was fantastic. I love that image; in a way, it's like I am laying an egg.

I went to Alice's prenatal class this morning, despite much resistance since I didn't sleep much again last night, and I'm so glad I went. I've been surprised lately at how much I can do in class, without harming or pushing myself. Today I really felt that the 37-weeks pregnant lady next to me was the one holding me up. And it made me realize that probably, in labor, I am going to have to let go of being the Strong One and let someone else hold me up for a time.

Full Report from ObGyn office later today.

So if Mercury has now gone into retrograde, what will that mean for this labor and birth?

39 WEEKS, PEOPLE!!!!!

Never in my wildest dreams did I dream I would ever get here.

We've kept a journal for the baby that starts waaaaay back in January when he was just a faint second stripe on a pregnancy test strip. When he was just rising levels of HCG and that little embryo that started making me queasy the minute he took hold.

I used to pray -- I guess that's what you would call it -- to the universe to send me a soul that wanted to be surrounded by yogis and martial artists, by two parents who really do try hard to work on themselves and at unraveling the great mystery of how to live well.

I'm feeling very contemplative and old.

And exhausted in the middle of the night again.

But hey, it really is all okay.

Unpacking has been equal parts getting rid of stuff and reminiscing.

I have had a juicy, full, rich and textured life.

I plan to continue to do so. It's just that it's been pretty damn good so far.

I would never have guessed that, at age 39, I would meet the man of my dreams, marry him a couple years later, then start a family with him. It was something I wanted, something I never really believed I could have. But I really wanted it on my terms, and not the terms of what the world usually has to offer.

I really wanted a partner, a strong man with a tender heart and an infinite capacity for kindness. What I got, and what I didn't know I wanted, was a man with emotional maturity.

That is the phrase that comes to mind: Emotional Maturity.

I am not sure how one acquires such a thing, but I am pretty sure that about 90% of American males lack in it.

I married a Feminist Man.

By that, I mean a man who truly loves and respects women. Strong women. Angry women. Smart women. I did not hide any of these things from him ever. And he liked that I was strong, angry, and smart. And that I was willing to fuck up and admit it.

I don't know how it happened, except perhaps through the power of Grace.

And my filtering system.

But my DH (as all the lady forums call their Dear Husbands) is pretty much perfect for me.

So I'm thinking that Hercules is going to either end up spending the later years of his life in daily therapy, or somewhat happy and well-adjusted.

When I asked Andrew what he hoped for for our baby, he said he wanted him to be happy, to be comfortable in his own skin, to feel welcome anywhere and to be content. I would like that too. We talked about how we would try our best to be adults so he can just go ahead and be a child. We don't want him to feel responsible for us in any way; we want him to enjoy his job, which will be to play and have fun and to taste the great bliss of life.

And if not, we can hire him out as a baby model, then a child actor, and have a little Justin Timberlake in the making who will become a superstar entertainer that buys all of us mansions and cars and health insurance for the rest of our lives.

Celebrity Sightings

Celebrity sightings in Austin have been much fewer and further between than the days when I lived in LA, but they do happen.

Yesterday at IKEA I saw a sullen Fred Cantu, tv news anchor, pushing around a cart of cheap rugs and organizer boxes. He was taller than I thought he'd be.

A couple weeks ago I saw another news anchor, Tyler Sieswerda, at Sun Harvest. He was much chunkier than I thought he'd be.

And last year Andrew and I saw Judy Maggio, YET ANOTHER NEWS ANCHOR, at EZ Burger.

Perhaps not as exciting as Brad Pitt, whom I used to see all the time in LA, or Tim Roth, or my pal Mink Stole, but what the heck.

Shot or No Shot?

My obgyn really wants me to get a flu shot before the baby is born. I'm 39 weeks now and he could come at any minute.

The majority of research I find online is either very pro-shot, or very anti-shot. I can't find any compelling evidence to suggest either way.

Anyone else contemplating this, or do this already?

I know to avoid thimerosol, and that would be the least of my demands.

I caught the flu for the first time in like 30 years just a couple years ago and it SUCKED ASS BIG TIME. So I wouldn't want to get it again, or subject my baby to catching it after he's born.

What to do?

Pregnant Celebrities

It's hard not to get excited when you're pregnant and you hear news of celebrities who are also pregnant.

At least if you're me, that's true.

I just read that Jennifer Lopez is pregnant...with twins!

I love her.





And Halle Berry will be a first time mom over forty next year!

I love that Salma Hayek just had a girl, Naomi Watts had a boy, and even troubled child Nicole Richie is sporting a baby bump.


Marcia Cross (another over 40 mama) had her twin girls, Julia Roberts had another boy...

It's almost like they all work at the same yoga studio...

Converted

I just got home from a morning prenatal yoga class. It was great.

Since I had such a difficult time during my first and second trimester, I basically gave up my asana practice. With a great deal of mourning because of it.

At the beginning of my third trimester, I started to feel really stable and settled into my new body, so I started going to classes.

Lo and behold, I have loved them.

I was anxious about taking prenatal classes in the beginning because of my spotting, bedrest, and horribly painful pubic bone. I learned how to manage and indeed how to heal that pain, so that I finally felt ready to go into class and trust that the teachers weren't going to push me or hurt me. Not that anyone can do either of those things at this point, but you never know. My perception was that most prenatal instructors move too quickly or ask you to do too much than you really should be doing.

I started getting lonely, missing my kula a lot, and missing my students.

I realize now that going to the yoga studio is church for me.

There is nothing like the support of a room full of pregnant ladies to keep me going and make me happy. And truthfully, my reason for going to class was the community. Because I can do the "workout" at home.

I love being the "most pregnant" person in class. I tend to take it easy, use lots of props, and be very vocal with my sighing and relaxing. Today I saw three of my students in class, also pregnant. It was delightful to see them, and a few students afterward who had taken classes in the other studio.

Spice-y Not So Nice-y

Ohhhhh, Lord help me.

It's 4 am and my stomach is killing me!

Whoever said to eat spicy food to bring on labor should be SHOT.

Or I should be shot, to put me out of this misery. Gahd!

What an idiot I am for believing everything I read.



That frickin' papaya salad is having its wicked way with me. And I'm soooo tired already!

(So much for my planned field trip to Java Noodles. No frickin' WAY am I going there now!)

I drank every last drop of my Mylanta, too. What next? Charcoal tablets? Fire extinguisher?

Ugh.

If this does induce labor and my child is born tonight, he's going to come out kicking like a Muay Thai fighter and not the little Buddhist monk of my dreams.

I even ate a little sandwich not too long ago just to soak up the lime-chili spice sauce. I believe they drained it off the tip of the Devil's penis.

Red rover, red rover, let Lizzie come over.

Back. Into the Light.

Help me, Mommy!

Stimulating

I just got back from a late-ish dinner w/ Andrew at Titaya's Thai Cuisine, my new favorite eaterie.

I love finding places just by driving by. And I love it even more when you get lucky.

I had the papaya salad, which is INCREDIBLY spicy. Also papaya enzymes supposedly stimulate labor contractions. And other sorts of contractions.

Hercules is definitely rolling around a bit more than usual.

And so am I!

Mmmm hmmm

Wow, I think I might have slept for 6 hours in a row last night.

No meltdowns, no freak out on the house.

Andrew's being so loving and sweet. And so is Tito, our little dog. We've been taking him to a dog behaviorist and it's making a difference in...his behavior.

Everybody seems happier.

Even *I* am slightly less crabby.

Today I got a massage from my pal Melissa, who really fixes me when I'm out of whack. She hit many of the labor points and we had a great conversation about (among other things) politics and election integrity, which of course does not exist. She's been doing 1,000 day sadhana and is on day 600 of reciting daily the Sikh scriptures. Her conclusion? "It's all God." Every bit of it.

Also that, as householders (and not renunciates) our mission is to ENJOY life. I buy that. What other choices do we have?

So if I can step out of the away, align myself with the flow of Grace, accept whatever comes, surrender to the spiritual, be one with the stream, I can enjoy these last moments of early October, of getting in the car with just 30 minutes to spare in order to reach my destination, go have a cup of green tea at the coffee shop alone, go eat a papaya salad at Titaya alone, drive through campus area Austin and reminisce, whatever. I can enjoy the intensity of labor and delivery. I can enjoy the ecstatic birth of my son.

This weekend, if we don't go into labor, we will spend some time outdoors. It's been too hot for me to do that, but now the mornings are bearable, so it could happen.

So the massage may not bring on the labor, that will happen when it's supposed to happen, but it definitely cleared out some garbage and opened me up into greater alignment.

What more could a pregnant girl ask for?

(I know: jalapeno poppers from Alamo Drafthouse.)

Thursday Update

Went for my weekly u/s and exam today...

No baby yet!

Looks good. Plenty of amniotic fluid, practicing his breathing, moving around less but still active, baby passed his Non Stress Test, mom fell asleep while listening to his heart beat in a darkened room, cervix still effaced some but no dilation.

Here is how my day went:

• hangover from extreme grouchiness last night into morning
• slept until 10 am
• u/s appt at 1130 am
• home for nap until 130 pm
• 215 appt with obgyn
• 330 appt with acupuncturist to hit all the points to INDUCE LABOR
• 430 homeward bound
• stop off at Half Price books to peruse for historical mysteries, none found
• slept until 930
• frozen yogurt run with husband and chihuahua
• zombielike stumble around house, check email, update blog
• can't wait to get back in bed

It's hot in here.

Would somebody please do these dishes?

My obgyn is out of town next week, of course. She is anxious about me going over 40 weeks with this baby. We negotiated. I can have a few extra days after his due date before she'll want to induce. I happen to know she doesn't read this blog, so just between you and me, I am really not interested in having a medical induction. I trust my body and my baby to do the right thing.

And I'm going to keep getting acupuncture, and tomorrow I'll go see my massage therapist pal Melissa who has a great track record with expecting mommies and encouraging labor. And yes, I know about evening primrose oil and orgasms. Mmm hmm.

Though frankly, given my ultra bitchiness these past few days, I don't blame Hercules for not wanting to come out just yet.

A Mother's Fantasy

No baby yet.

Braxton Hicks like crazy yesterday that went on for hours. And then let up.

I'm awake at 430 am, sleepless, kind of nauseated and just...awake.

Baby is rolling around in my belly like a good little martial artist.

It's all getting to be VERY EXCITING.

When will he choose to come?

I am already having fantasies about workshops and cool projects I want to initiate once baby is born and we're settled into something of a routine. Whenever that may be.

Like my "Lit From Within" writing and performance workshops.

Like Yoga for Fertile Mind, Soul and Body.

Like my "Breaking the Cherry" book. And perhaps, yes perhaps, another workshop and performance.

Like how about a writing workshop for Moms?

And now I'm inspired to get certified in prenatal bodywork, and perhaps even become some sort of childbirth educator.

I tell you, I can't wait to start teaching prenatal yoga. And when I contemplate and experiment with how to weave the Anusara principles into it...it's downright thrilling.

The possibilities are endless.

And perhaps most of all I'd love to write a book about what it's been like, trying to get pregnant, becoming a first time mom over 40. There really is nothing like it out there. And I have a feeling we are legion.

I'm thinking that doing this, making a baby, the ultimate creative act, has actually fired up all the other forms of creativity in my life. It feels good. I like that my baby is so inspiring to me in this way, already.

Meet the Neighbors

No baby yet, people.

If I don't respond to your emails, which I do love receiving, please understand that I prefer you check this blog to find out how I'm doing. I have SUCH limited capacity right now. I've been sleeping nearly around the clock, except to do things like go to a yoga class or perform another nesting instinct task before baby arrives.

And I will be going to my obgyn every Thursday for an ultrasound and to check on my baby's progress. I'll try to post full reports every time. And every day, a little somethin'.

So last night baby daddy Andrew went to our storage space and brought back a U Haul full of boxes and stuff that we've had in storage for months now.

I was so happy to see my boxes full of books! And knicknacks! And winter clothes!

Bring on the cold front!

I had just gotten back from a lovely prenatal class and was watching him unload stuff in the driveway, when our neighbors across the street came over and offered to help.

Adrian and Sean.

We met them a while ago, when Jennifer came over to do my bellycast and saw them on the street. They're old friends. And well, basically, any friend of the fabulous Jennifer is a friend of mine.

Adrian said, after Andrew politely told them they didn't have to help, "I feel like we can't say no." And so they helped him unload the entire truck in just a few minutes.

I was certainly grateful! And then we stood around and chatted. They are funny!

In a conversation that included our most recent guilty pleasures, including our obsession with Rock of Love, they decided they were going to give us a book to read, The Dirt, which is an autobiography of Motley Crue.

It is exceedingly tawdry, disgusting, and mesmerizing.

I can't put it down!

I feel like I shouldn't be reading it with a baby inside me.

Those guys make the Stones look like altar boys.

So, of course, I highly recommend it as a mindless escape. I was never a fan of the Crue, I can barely recall what their hit songs sound like, and I really don't fully understand what all the fuss is/was about. But it's still fascinating.

Meanwhile...what am I gonna do with all these boxes again?

Fat Face, Hobby Lobby

I just got back from getting an acupuncture treatment designed to stimulate labor. I'm so excited! My acupuncturist is going to be there for our labor and delivery. She's got the mojo.

And then I decided to stop off at Hobby Lobby.

Wow.

What a clusterfuck.

It confirms my suspicions that, in general, hardcore craft ladies are really kind of humorless.

At least when it comes to their craftiness.

The store is huge, there are no maps, and salespeople kind of run away from you as soon as you approach the aisle in which they are working.

I had that slight "I need to pee" sensation the entire time, which may have contributed to my lack of compassion.

And my butt/glutes hurt.

I wanted to get some glue and some paint for my bellycast.

I tried to choose the shortest line, but even the people with the least amount of stuff had coupons, and the people in front of them were disputing the receipt that had just been rung up.

I was one of the troublemakers. I bought a memory book that was marked at half price, according to the poster display where I picked it up, but the cashier didn't believe me, so she had to call for a (shudder) Price Check.

God I hate those! You so often end up having to send a search party for the price checker.

It's one of the prices (ha, ha) you pay for shopping somewhere that isn't completely computerized.

So I got my memory book for half off after about 10 minutes of waiting. I suppose it was worth it. I would never lie about something like that.

I plan to glue all the scraps of paper I've collected over the years into scrapbooks. I'm NOT a scrapbooker; I'm a collector, and I just want to put all that stuff in one place.

Meanwhile, my face is fat.

Puffy.

Puff Mommy.

But it's normal to have a puffy face when you're preggers. The parotid glands under the chin swell...hello, double chin! And the salivary glands kick in overtime, hence my nighttime drooling.

So if you see a superpregnant lady wheeling around in Hobby Lobby with her double chin and her frown, drooling down her shirt, well....it might be me.

Not Yet, Pas Encore

I got a couple of phone calls this morning from my fellow pregnant yogini moms who for some reason thought I was already in labor and at the hospital!

JUST A RUMOR.

Not true.

I'm still waddling around my house, rubbing my big Buddha belly, tired as all git out.

My SIL came over today with her cleaning supplies and her truck, and took me to BRU to pick up the elusive dresser/changing table combo I've been wanting for months now. It was a floor model, on sale as CLEARANCE.

For once the BRU staff was helpful and almost even nice.

She's been such a loving support. I am blessed.

But I'm NOT in labor! Not yet.

Our doula came over last night and we had a great, lengthy talk about everything. She's really cool, and we feel like we are in good hands.

So now it's just rest as much as I can, eat well, drink lots of water, do yoga, and get into blissful spiritual mama mode until the little man decides it's time for his closeup.

Aujourd'hui

Had an ultrasound again first thing this morning.

Everything looks great!

Baby is weighing possibly closer to 8 pounds. He has definitely dropped, was much lower in the pelvis than last week. All those contractions yesterday helped him move down!

No change in the cervix; it's still soft. But not dilated. Which is kind of fine with me right now.

He passed his NST -- non-stress test -- and my blood pressure is still 110/60. Plenty of amniotic fluid.

I really want to have a yogic birth, ya'll.

I slept less than 4 hours last night. Time for a nap!

Shine On, Harvest Moon

More babies are born during a full moon than any other time of the month.

It's a fact.

So when I woke up this afternoon from a much-needed nap, my uterus was twisting like a tornado! The "tightening" sensations were INTENSE. I was dreaming that I had asked all these mamas if the fact that the baby was MOVING so much meant he was ready to be born, and they all said "Yes."

Because baby has been Dancing with the Stars all day! I mean super active. And I've been ravenous again, something that hasn't been true for months now. Not since baby took up all the room in my belly. So maybe he's dropping down and my stomach is bigger again.

Anyhoo.

I even called my doula, asking how I would know if I were in labor.

Truthfully, HOW DO YOU KNOW?

Your membranes (water) doesn't always release.

Your contractions are NOT always regular.

You might miss your Birth (bloody) Show.

I've just counted on my intuition to tell me.

And today it told me "Hmmm, well, this could be something."

So my doula had me drink a lot of water and time out FIVE contractions.

My bff Donna was over to help me clean and unpack, so she timed them for me. And I really only got one definite surge/contraction. The rest were like little bitty rushes, tightenings all over the uterus. No menstrual-like cramps, no back pain.

So I dunno. But if anything changes or gets really intense, I'll be ready.

I have an obgyn appt tomorrow morning, first thing. So we'll see what's going on with this cervix!

Or whatever.

Testy, You Say?

Okay, for some reason right now ANYONE offering up even the SWEETEST advice is likely to send me into a rage and cause them to draw back a bloody stump if they foolishly choose to interact with me.

I don't know what it is.

But it's vicious.

My poor mom on the phone tonight...

Sorry, mom.

But don't ever suggest I should be WALKING every day again.

It is kind of fascinating how much information is out there for a pregnant lady...and how it's hard out here for a pimp.

I'm trying to remember my hero Gandhi's teachings, the yoga sutras, the noble truths of Buddhism, the words of Christ, the wisdom of the Bhagavad Gita and all the ages.

"Be kind."

Essentially.

BUT...

Number 37, Have a Look

Holy embryo.

It's WEEK THIRTY SEVEN. Worth spelling out.

Why?

Because this is the week my baby boy is considered "Full Term."

In full bloom.

Little lotus is opening!

He could wait 3 more weeks to be born, and that would be fine with me.

Or he could succumb, like so many do, to the pull of the full moon right now and be drawn right out of the womb and into the world!

But in any case, the Pregnancy Journey (Trip is more like it) is about to end. I have to admit, I'm kind of sad.

In spite of everything -- the swelling, the bleeding, the pains and aches, the cutting back on the yoga, the missing out on things -- I have LOVED being pregnant. There is nothing in my life experience that even compares. It's all such a great Unknown, such a Mystery. All the capitalized Big Concepts, rolled into one. Faith. Surrender. Love. Life.

I'm taking friends' and other moms' advice and trying to SLEEP now, in spite of my OCD Nesting Instinct.

So keep your eyes and ears peeled for that Great Announcement.

The OC (D)

When did laundry become an obsession?

The sight of soiled clothing on the closet floor sends me into panic disorder. A stiff towel gives me chills.

I was never like this P.P. (pre-pregnancy) -- that's for sure.

It has become a ritual for me now to wash, dry, and sort clothing. Even Andrew's!

If I see something in the house that is grossing me out, I dive in and clean it up.

Or I get super depressed because really, I'm not able to do very much at this point. I can't do a lot of bending over without my low back KILLING me.

I scrubbed the bathroom floor yesterday and it was torture.

I know: "Rest, Liz! Silly lady!"

But I can't. It's like when I was 12 years old and afraid I was going to be possessed by the Devil all over again. It' s not real, it's not that important, and I can't stop thinking about it.

If I let the wadded up kleenex (tm) sit on the table it will haunt me ALL NIGHT LONG. It whispers to me, no matter where I am in the house. "Oh Liz...I'm greasy...I'm crumpled up...the trash can is less than 3 feet away from me...I can see it..."

If dishes sit in the sink, dirty, and I am in bed reading, my eyes will bounce off the same words in my book over and over again without their meaning ever sinking in, because my brain is somewhere else: THE KITCHEN SINK.

Is this really The Nesting Instinct?

I dunno, man.

I'm having the impulse to put up pictures, frame posters, and paint my bellycast too. But maybe I should pack for the hospital first. Or get a dresser for the mountain of clothes that need to be put away for Hercules.

Or sit and contemplate the beauty of the trees all around me. Stick my feet in some water.

I was never good at being domestic.

I was always good at dreaming, being blissed out, drinking in the flavors of the world around me. Suddenly that all seems lost.

Wouldn't a good little Tantrika find the Divine in these everyday things? Taking out the trash. Watering the plants. Folding little baby clothes. Making the bed. All important spiritual matters.

Thank God for meditation.

Fetal Position

Today was Hercules's 36-week bio-physical ultrasound profile!

The ultrasound was fab.

He's in a great position, head down (and low!) facing my spine, feet up under my ribs, measurements and all the landmarks look great...they say he probably weighs about 7 pounds, there's plenty of amniotic fluid, and I was negative for Strep B.

And Dr. Weihs signed off on our Birth Preferences/Plan.

Doc says that in their practice, they don't like to let over-40 mamas carry their babies past due date. So we have the green light to start trying to induce, doing all those natural labor-induction things you do.

Any suggestions?

Spicy food, hot sex, acupuncture, acupressure...what else?

I still don't want him to come just yet!

The electricians are almost done with our house. I can't even tell you how GOOD it feels to be here, now that I know our plugs are grounded and the electric is (supposedly) up to code, and much safer.

I don't feel like our baby (or one of us) is going to stick a diaper pin into an outlet and catch the wall on fire...like I did when I was a baby!

Here's hoping NOT.

We will unpack and set up bookshelves this weekend, get rid of all the boxes that are still lying around, and hopefully have things in shipshape by next week.

Early this evening I ran into another pregnant couple walking their little boy in a stroller; they live right down the street and are having a girl in November! They also told me there was another baby due this fall on our street. I think it'll be cool if Hercules gets to grow up with a handful of kids his age.

It seems to all be falling into place. Thank you, Ganesha!

I've been taking prenatal yoga classes and have really been enjoying them. I've gone to 4 different teachers now, all of whom have very different approaches. All of whom were very good.

I think I'll keep going as long as I can. It's kind of hard to get up and down off the floor these days. But I love feeling the strength in my legs and in my arms. I don't feel that I've lost that too much. I try to do my downward dog pushups, and my utkatasana.

Know what my latest trick is?

Drooling. All night. Wet pillow. Wet cheek.

Drool.

I'm working on some poetry too, which I will post for you soon.

Meanwhile, an amazing poem by Sharon Olds, who used to annoy the hell out of me:

The Language of the Brag

I have wanted excellence in the knife-throw,
I have wanted to use my exceptionally strong and accurate arms
and my straight posture and quick electric muscles
to achieve something at the center of a crowd,
the blade piercing the bark deep,
the haft slowly and heavily vibrating like the cock.

I have wanted some epic use for my excellent body,
some heroism, some American achievement
beyond the ordinary for my extraordinary self,
magnetic and tensile, I have stood by the sandlot
and watched the boys play.

I have wanted courage, I have thought about fire
and the crossing of waterfalls, I have dragged around

my belly big with cowardice and safety,
stool charcoal from the iron pills,
huge breasts leaking colostrum,
legs swelling, hands swelling,
face swelling and reddening, hair
falling out, inner sex
stabbed again and again with pain like a knife.
I have lain down.

I have lain down and sweated and shaken
and passed blood and shit and water and
slowly alone in the center of a circle I have
passed the new person out
and they have lifted the new person free of the act
and wiped the new person free of that
language of blood like praise all over the body.

I have done what you wanted to do, Walt Whitman,
Allen Ginsberg, I have done this thing,
I and the other women this exceptional
act with the exceptional heroic body,
this giving birth, this glistening verb,
and I am putting my proud American boast
right here with the others.

Take the Yoga Snob Quiz!

I have to admit I was surprised to get this response. Thanks to Jen for turning me on this cute little ol' quiz! I'm a Balanced Yogi!

A Balanced Yogi You love your friends unconditionally and accept them for who they are no matter what their yoga style preference, religious beliefs, or spending habits. You focus on the good in people and would never try to change them. Almost everyone feels comfortable in your presence. You live your yoga. You are an inspiration to yoga students everywhere!

Take the Yoga Journal Yoga Snob Quiz!

Basics, in General

Tonight we're supposed to take a "Breastfeeding Basics" class.

This is the topic I feel the least prepared for; I have been reading up on just about every other aspect of pregnancy and caring for newborns. For some reason I think it will be more productive to actually practice breastfeeding than read about it.

Speaking of basics, since we're essentially locked out of our house while the electricians are there, I had a really rough day today without internet access.

I got a couple of writing assignments yesterday, which I am very excited about, and a Thursday afternoon deadline. "No problem," I thought, yesterday. "I'll have all day Wednesday to do it." Weeelll, no.

For one thing, I feel like absolute SHIT today. This is one of those pregnant days where really all I want to do is sleep. I am having more of those as the due date draws near.

I had to force myself out of our hotel room bed, drive around town looking for a COLD cafe with wifi so I could actually log in and find out what my assignment consists of, and then I had a hellacious time with my computer and cookies and opening files...

Hey, do I only ever complain on this blog? It seems like it. What are blogs for, if not complaining?

Oh, I don't know...inspiring?

Okay.

It will ALL work out. I know it.

Gimme Shelter

Woo hoo!

The electricians are here! The electricians are here!

Finally.

Ooops, no power you say?

That's okay; I'll go hang out at my favorite coffee shop all day.

Take a prenatal yoga class.

Go get a massage.

36 Weeks!

It's hot in here.

IKEA Saved My Life!!! Hail, IKEA!

So we moved into this great new house, but we are still unpacking and it's driving me CRAZY.

I have no less than 1,000 books -- many more than that, actually -- and our thought was that we'd hire someone to do some built-in shelves so we'd have all the shelves we needed to stack them, and to put away our home office files.

WRONG.

Without going into all the gory details at this moment, allow me to just vent my frustration on all the lame and lousy "contractors" or "service providers" who live in this town.

YOU PEOPLE SUCK!!!!!!

And people say that massage therapists or yoga teachers or poets are flaky.

NOT BY A LONG SHOT.

It's not like we're some ultra rich, privileged couple who are demanding and unreasonable and think the world should be at our beck and call. No. We had a little extra money put aside to improve on the house, hopefully before the baby comes. That is all. It's needed a lot of work. I did a LOT of research to find references to a decent electrician, a green lawn service, and a good mover. And my nesting instinct has had me online until all hours doing this research, trying my best to Keep Austin Weird, to buy locally and think globally, etc.

Let me warn you against the following incompetent boobs:

M and M Moving Service
Scotty Reynolds Electric
Dan Ulrich Electric
Janet's Solar Electric
Green Lawn Service
The Bookcase Store

In ALL cases, people were either called to inquire about their services several times and never called us back, promises were made on their part and not kept, and flakiness and downright incompetence ensued. I mean seriously; if you ran an electrical service, spent a couple hours checking out all the work you needed to do on an old house, told the owners you'd have an estimate for them in a few days, asked for several extensions on said estimate, then just completely gave up and never returned their calls again...would you still be in business? WTF?

Yesterday at the Bookcase Store Andrew was treated like crap, when all he was doing was bringing the guy design specs AS SPECIFIED ON THEIR FUCKING WEBSITE. Which I will not even link to here. We painstakingly measured all of our walls, doorways, windows, and open spaces where we'd like to put the shelves. AS SPECIFIED ON THEIR WEBSITE, he brought all these measurements in to the store. The rude dick who could hardly be bothered to even look at him told Andrew, who is the sweetest guy in the world, when presented with the information, "I can't tell you what you want." To which sweetest guy in the world responded by blowing up at rude dick. And I don't blame him.

Way to lose business, asshole.

Aren't you just sick of people who can't even look you in the face, try to understand where you're coming from, or even offer a little help?

So I suggested we try IKEA.

And we did.

Got all the shelves we wanted for less than 800 bucks.

Delivered today, soon to be installed, soon to have all our books and everything else piled on them.

Now usually we totally support -- we got our of our WAY to support -- local businesses. But local businesses apparently have shit service, and could care less about the individual customer. It is SO discouraging. Is everyone here in the ATX just STONED? Is everyone just hung over? Can this slacker town keep up with the big city? I have yet to see it. Not if our experiences these past few weeks are any indication.

So even though they're a major corporation in a big box store, I will go to IKEA from now on for my household needs.

And everytime I see their sign, my heart will swell with joy as I recall how sweet the cashiers were, how thorough the delivery people were, and how they brought me all my shelving in one day. God Bless IKEA, and FUCK the Bookcase Store.

On the other hand, the people who work at Babies-R-Us are a bunch of weak shitheads and need to be punished.

Hurricane Watch

Well, at 35 weeks, we'd all better start getting prepared.

I'm having a lot of practice contractions.

Stock up on water.

Board up the windows.

Fill up the gas tank.

Powerbars? Check.

Maternity (disposable) undies and bra? Check.

Disposable birth plan? Check.

Warm socks? Check.

Sitter for Tito? Check.

Maximum pads? Check.

Laborade? Check.

List of who to call? Check.

Name for baby? Uh...

Check...sort of.

Sense of humor?

Sense of humor?

Hello?

Over It. Seriously.

Thank you for the love sent my way after yesterday's post. I even whined to my mother.

Apparently there's something called "The Austin City Limits Festival" that is going on this weekend, so many of my potential helpers are too busy enjoying themselves there to come and help me out. Whatev.

I have to admit I cannot fathom why anyone would want to subject themselves to an outdoor concert anymore. I think perhaps touring all summer with Lollapalooza, albeit over 10 years ago, put the burn on me for outdoor festivals FOREVER. Indoor festival, yes. Outdoor? Please kill me.

Should I just start a column with "You Know You're Over 40 When..." ?

We have a long list of stuff to do today, including our official tour of the hospital where we plan to give birth. And a stop at the bookshelf store, to order our shelves that we so desperately need.

Where is the haiku moment in all of this?

I wish I could go put my feet in the ocean today.

SOS Whatever

Ya know, I'm being ignored. I'm hormonal and I need to get this off my chest.

Everyone kept telling me I needed to be sure to ASK for help, and well, I did that today.

And the response has really fucking hurt my feelings.

Boo hoo me.

35 Weeks Update

I started the day with a really relaxing massage. I fell asleep and drooled, which is always my goal when getting massaged.

The massage therapist is a friend, someone I went to massage school with, who shares space with my acupuncturist. She was one of those massage prodigies in school, and I was not disappointed with her skills this morning.

I think every pregnant lady should get frequent massages. Only with someone who knows what they're doing, of course.

Anyway.

I bought my first nursing bras today. I really dreaded going in there, but the sales woman was so nice and knowledgeable it made it a very pleasant experience. "Have I ever got the bra for YOU!" she said. And she was right.

So about that update...

I went to see my obgyn today.

Blood pressure was up a tiny bit, but I figure that is because I was sitting out in the hot sun eating spicy food right before. Also, with the heat, I'm swelling everywhere, even my tongue.

Apparently I have lost weight; when the nurse puts me on the scale I stick my fingers in my ears and go "lalalalallala" so I don't have to KNOW.

Doc says baby's head is down, positioning is therefore good. I've been on all fours a lot, and leaning forward a lot, to encourage him to let his heavy little skull drop down. I can't say for sure though that he has officially dropped down in my pelvis; maybe.

Doc also said my cervix was still thin, but not dilated at all. Of course that could change any second. There's no reason to anticipate that the baby will be born before his due date. Nonetheless, I'm worried that he will. I just feel so unprepared. In spite of the heat, swelling, grumpiness et al I am not anxious for him to be outside of me. In spite of well-meaning strangers who suggest I'd like for him to be born sooner than later. In spite of it all.

'Course, I will accept whatever he chooses. It's not up to me now, is it?

My doctor visits will now be a weekly affair. Next week we'll have a detailed ultrasound to check on baby's progress. And our doula will be coming over for her first home visit.

On the way out the door, Dr. Weihs said, "I'm so excited!" And I said, "Me too!" She is genuinely excited for us, and I love that. She's got 4 kids herself, which in my mind is a ringing endorsement of her and of motherhood.

Another ringing endorsement of motherhood was seeing my yogini moms tonight. I dragged my tired butt over to Ravyn's house to welcome her baby's soul into its body since it's the 120th day of her pregnancy; this is a kundalini yoga tradition, and it was really cool. Two yoga moms were there with their young babies, and much to my surprise so was a woman from my Hypnobirthing class! I saw her face first at the table, and smiled in puzzled recognition. I had to ask her "Where do I know you from?"

Normally I remember everything and everyone's names; not so since my pregnancy. I even ran into a longtime student of mine at Wheatsville yesterday and I almost forgot her name!

Fortunately I have no problem saying "I'm sorry, please tell me your name again."

The little blessing we gave Ravyn and her baby was wonderful. Everyone talked about dreams they'd been having or had had while pregnant; I have to say that my dreams have been very lite, not at all what I expected.

I certainly have lingering anxieties about the labor and delivery, but I haven't had any anxious dreams about it. I really feel confident and trust that all will be fine, no matter what.

I did have a vision of my son's face today, however, while in a hypnagogic state on the massage table. These things need to come unbidden.

And he looked just like my mother's father, with a round little face, black eyes, and dark hair.

At some point during the pregnancy I was looking at a picture of Conor Oberst on the cover of one of Andrew's indie rock magazines, and I showed it to him, saying: "This is what our kid is going to look like when he grows up."

You never know.
L+A=Conor?