11 Weeks, 6 Days

Well, I am writing to you fresh from a round with the potty.

I just spent my afternoon blogging on Lifelines about how terrific I feel all of a sudden and now I've spent exactly nine excrutiating minutes tossing my entire dinner into the toilet.

What do you have against dinner, child?
And what in the WORLD is wrong with Massey's pizza?

Okay, so look.
I'm sort of realizing something here.
I may be doing this every-few-days-yak-yaking stuff for awhile still.
I'm coming to terms with the fact that I may be dealing with the vomit thing for a l-o-n-g time to come.
For whatever reason, you make me sick :)
I say that in the nicest way possible, of course.
But really, you sort of do.
The good thing is, most times, I know when it's coming because I spend about 20 minutes laying on the couch trying to will it away before finally succumbing, with a defeated sigh, and trudging to the potty.

Here's what I'm thinking about all of this:
It's fine.
Really.
I can handle throwing up three times a week.
It'd be sheer heaven for me if you'd stick to breakfast but you prefer dinner.
What's a girl going to do? I certainly can't change your ways. (I've tried.)
So I'm making my peace with it.

I can do that because...otherwise I'm starting to feel GREAT!
The all-day-long nausea is seemingly gone.
I have twinges here and there, like tonight, that I can't fight off but for the most part, what's left is bearable.
My energy is returning as is my desire to actually participate in my life which is just GROOVY. (Don't say grow up saying, "groovy". It's really quite queer but it came to mind just then and was used with a HEAVY dose of virtual sarcasm.)

For the first time in what seems like forever, I'm running my house again! I'm sorting mail, doing laundry, bossing my family around.
Mama is BACK!
Mostly.
I'm about 80% of the woman I normally am but since I'd place me in the last two months at a 20%, you can see what I'm cheering about, why I'm willing to heave nasty just-had dinner into the toilet with a smile.

We are leaving our first trimester behind tomorrow as I will officially turn 12 weeks! That's exciting for many reasons but mostly because I think at some point soon you and I will start to live in harmony together. Plus, you will grow MUCH bigger (you are about two and a half inches big now, the size of a lime--how cute is that?) and I'll soon start feeling you and we'll get to see you again on the big ultrasoundy screen and it's my hope that I'm really just able to start enjoying you now!

I've been watching tons of t.v. these days and one of the shows I see regularly is this one about a family of 18 kids. 18 KIDS! Can you imagine? Well, of course you can't but neither can I which should really tell you something. Anyway, I love this family--they're super interesting and inspiring and I happened to catch an episode featuring a few minutes of a home birth.

Watching those minutes unfold on the screen was enough to positively solidify my desire (resolution?) to have my own home birth with you. I watched the new Mama labor on her couch, in her shower, walking through her cozy house, surrounded by just a handful of those who love her the most and I thought...I want that.

And then I watched her snuggle in her own bed, tired but happy, while her husband and doula weighed her brand-new daughter and swaddled her tight before passing the baby back to that super snuggly, tired, but happy Mama and I thought...I REALLY want that.

And so...I'm going to get it!

I'm not afraid of being home with you yet I have twinges of apprehension. I suspect that in the most pivotal of birth moments, the one where it really dawns on me that it's too late for the hospital even if I WANTED to go, I will start to freak out a bit. And that's not to say any part of me doesn't want to do it, it's just unfamiliar to me. I'm hoping that the comfort of my own home and putting myself in a position of full control over the situation (me likes my control) will ease any worries that I might have. I will be able to choose how I labor, where I go, what I do and don't want to do and trust me when I say, I will make it as easy on us as possible :)

Of course, should anything funky arise that would put either of us in even a smidge-y of danger, it will not break my heart to pull the rip-cord and use Plan B. I've actually had wonderful experiences with the hospital births so my decison here isn't due to some horrid birth story. Not at all. Creux's in particular was just...fun. We were relaxed and excited, I adored my midwife (she was just a few years older than me), we were able to have Daddy deliver, my labor nurse took GORGEOUS photos of Creux's birth, kept the camera and took amazing shots of the moments just after (anyone who takes great photos of my kids is instantly totally in with me), and then she spoiled me rotten, pampering me silly post-partum, treating me like a queen.

So you see, it really would not upset me terribly to switch tracks for any reason.
But I just really, really want to be home with you.

Having mentioned all of the above, there ARE things we don't like about the hospital settings and their "policies" which usually ends with me clashing with someone over something and I'm trying to avoid that sort of drama.

I'm not compromising my beliefs in regards to your care.

Last time, we faced heavy pressure to allow them to take Creux just a bit early due to my half-way-done pre-labor dilation status. (I was at 5cm before labor was even triggered.)

But in my heart of hearts, I feel like babies come when babies are ready.
Who am I to allow someone to yank my Grower out of his/her comfy home?

I certainly did see the merit to their concern, I almost didn't make it to the hospital with Greer (made it in time to change my clothes and that's about it, couldn't walk, couldn't talk, could do nothing but breathe...and panic) so I knew why they wanted me to schedule his birth.

In the end, it was decided that if I went past my due date, I would head into the hospital to have my water broken.
Which IS technically an induction.
But I fought FOR DAYS to get the staff to agree to forego their "policy" of forcing me to endure the labor-inducing drug pitocin and to instead just break my water bag. (Which, for me, brings not only a gush of water but a baby, too.)

That seemed like such a simple request to me, one that I knew from experience would be all that I needed to nudge my baby out but it was like I was asking for something COMPLETELY unreasonable.
I just don't like that sort of stuff.
It's MY baby and MY body and I have to fight so hard to be heard...I'm just done with it.

There are other things too that would make me unpopular with the staff:

We'll be foregoing the usual "Hep B" vaccine given to babies at birth. It's unnecessary in our case--we are not "at-risk" and neither are you. This also falls under the "policy" category, as most moms don't realize that they are tested for Hep B right before delivery, are negative, but baby is vaccinated anyway. This might not bother others but you will not be receiving ANYTHING that I do not find to be in your best interest.

I do not want silver nitrate drops placed in your eyes, especially right after birth as I want you to see me, to see your family, and there are better, non-toxic alternatives available for use.

I don't want to be told how or when I can hold you or feed you and I don't want you removed from my room--period. (Greer had an issue withlow body temp and was placed in a bassinet with a heating lamp "until she had an hour's worth of normal temp readings" or something like that. My suggestion of using my own body heat under the blankets to warm her was dismissed, "against policy", and I was told repeatedly not to touch her. "But what if she cries?" I wanted to know. "Then you come get me," said the nurse. Like hell.)

There will be no scrubbing down of my infant with a nurse who has been doing it for 30 years and wants to prove to me how durable a newborn is. I can not stand the shrieks of rage that erupt from my children and can't see why a bath needs to be like the roughest thing they'll come in contact with for at least the next year. The first bath should be relaxing, to both mother AND baby, and my experience has never been even remotely close to that. By the time I get you babies back, yes, all fresh and pink, my nerves are shot and my babies fall into a stress-induced, coma-like sleep.
Your bath, at home, will be given to you by your family, all of those who are eager to explore every tiny inch of you and I promise, you will not cry.
And neither will I. :)

The midwives have some suggestions of their own, two of which that I agree whole-heartedly with.
The first is that they leave the cord intact for a long time (40 minutes, I think?), until it stops pulsating. (This assures a smooth transition between breathing "systems"--basically it's an insurance policy that aids you while you figure out how to breathe on your own. With an uncut cord,you will still receive oxygen rich blood as a back-up.)

And the second is that they do very, very little with you (other than make sure you're breathing, obviously) for the first hour or so and this is because they want your family to receive all of your "awake" time. Babies are typically very alert after birth and they are strongly in favor of you sending every moment of that time getting acquainted with your adoring fans.

I couldn't have a better plan for you, myself ;)

So though we have a ways to go in this pregnancy, I'm definitely thinking and planning and putting things in place mentally as to how I would like your birthday to unfold.
And every road is leading me home.

You're in my thoughts contantly, my little wiggler.

Loving you already,
Mama