I'm Back With A Baby - My Labor and Delivery Story

For those of you who have been waiting with baited breath since my last blog posting, I apologize for nearly two week's delay. I could blame it on new motherhood, but that would be stretching the truth by about three days and I have about twelve days to account for. I have a very good excuse for the last four days which I'll share in another post.

When you last saw me, I was having contractions at home. They started in the morning after I noticed bloody show overnight. They were light and not really painful. DH had an exam in the afternoon and I took at walk and picked up DS from nursery, after which I went out for a falaffel and then stopped by the flower shop on the way home to pick up a thank-you gift for our friends who helped us out when I had that fever the week before. I even ran into them at the top of the street and they didn't notice anything. I didn't say anything.

Contractions started coming harder later in the afternoon. I would have to pause between blogging or cleaning or whatever I was doing, let it pass, and then go on. DS woke up and was climbing all over me. My sister arrived eventually and still I didn't want to go to the hospital, even though I knew (though I wasn't reporting to the waiting parties) that according to the five-minute rule, I should have gone already.

Laboring at home was the best thing I could have done. I wasn't being monitored or checked constantly. Nobody was holding me down or watching me or sticking needles in my arm. Nothing was strapped to me. I found a position or two that was ideal for waiting out contractions (on my hands and knees on the couch with my head on the armrest.) It was all very calm and, though I wouldn't quite call it pleasant, I can say that it was ideal conditions.

The contractions started getting bad and sweetly and without pressure, DH inquired when we would be leaving for the hospital. He was nervous that he'd have to do the job himself. I finally allowed him to convince me to leave the house when my water broke.

And then came the hardest part-- emotionally-- of the whole experience. I had to say goodbye to DS who I was seeing for the last time as an only child. Even thinking about it now is difficult. Fortunately, he had fallen fast asleep and didn't know that I spent more than a few moments lying beside him, stroking his hair, and apologizing. I know, I know, giving him a sibling is the best gift of all etc etc but it was still really tough on me. I knew that things were about to change forever. I'm not so good with change.

We ended up going to a different hospital than I had planned on since it was easier to walk to from our house and we wanted access. It's the same hospital where I gave birth to my son (after torturous procedures and interventions) nearly two years ago. It's not that the staff was bad. It's just that I had a bit of an emergency situation that time and it resulted in a very difficult birth.

I had awful contractions after that, and being in the car was pure torture. It's hard to relax into a contraction when you're strapped in to a bucket seat. Still, I was cautioning DH all the while to drive more carefully. The hospital is only 5 minutes away and though I could feel that the time to start pushing was near, I kept the news from him because he was already really nervous. He parked the car while an attendant helped me into a wheelchair and took a few details from me. I was going to refuse the chair but then I realized I had to get upstairs fast because the baby was on its way. DH arrived and we took off at a madcap down the hallway and up the elevator.

I was greeted at the labor ward by a midwife who made me get on a bed and strapped a monitor across my belly despite my protests. "We have to know how the baby is doing" she said. I hate that. The baby was on its way out one way or the other. In the meantime I was expected to lie obediently in whatever positions they commanded of me? There was no way. Honestly, there are times in life it's okay to not be cooperative. Oh, and then they did that awful thing where they check how dilated you are. I HATE IT. There were only two times I screamed during the entire process, and checking my cervix was one of them. It hurts and also just plain bothers me more than any other thing they do. Apparently I have a very very long canal and they need to dig right in there to get at it. I refused it all through the other checks in my pregnancy. It also bothers me even now-- just thinking about it makes me cringe.

I was four centimetres. FOUR? FOUR? No way I was only four.

When they finally got me into the delivery room, I did what I never intended to do: I climbed up on the bed and lay on my back. And by the way, I was fully dialated. Ten beautiful centimetres. I don't remember them checking me at that point. Maybe they just had a glance and could see... I don't know. Anyway, by that point there was no holding back.

Oh yes, that was after they insisted on replacing my clothes with a hospital gown, which I suppose I should be grateful for in terms of laundry, but I had no interest in at the time. The reason I was on my back is that it's just the position I ended up in and I was in too much pain to change it at that moment. Also, I was comfortable. Also, I knew the baby was on it's way out. I could feel it. It was all very intense.

At some point, and I didn't realize this until later on, the pain turned to tension. Every muscle in my body was coiled up. Whenever the midwife wanted me to change position even a little bit-- shift up, shift down, move my legs, hold my knees, whatever, it's not that I couldn't do it, but it took enormous effort to realign any muscle in my body at all. It's like they were melted in position. Even when DH or the midwife tried shifting me just a little, I protested. The biggest movement I made was some shifting and once I flipped over on my side, which is apparently a preferred position over the supine one. Talking was also really hard. I mostly used hand motions or whispered to DH who then translated to the midwife. The only motion I was happy to consent to was pushing.

This tension had been building with every contraction to the point that I couldn't relax in between contractions. I needed more time than I had. But that was somehow okay. Because like I said, what I was feeling wasn't exactly pain. I wasn't feeling comfortable, but it was way better to be like this than having regular contractions. The only problem was that it was very difficult for me to tell when it was time to push. So I just guessed.

The mood in the room, if I remember correctly, was pretty relaxed. I had chosen what they call the 'natural birthing room,' which is basically called that because it contains a radio, a shower stall, and a hippie-style floor lamp. This is in contrast with the 'natural birthing room' in the hospital I originally inteded to go to, which contained a jacuzzi, a neat-looking purple bed, wood panelling, and who knows what else.
I guess I guessed well, because the midwife kept telling me that things were progressing. I can see the top of the head. I can see the top of the head. It's coming, just a few more pushes... I believed her and also my husband when they said these things, but I was getting really tired. I just wanted to wrap it up for the evening and come back the next day to try some more. I pushed for twice as long in my last birth. I guess that God gives you strength for what you need when you need it.

I had my husband on one side and the midwife on the other (and yest, a monitor on my belly but that stopped bothering me after a little while) And when they kept telling me it was just one or two more pushes away and then I heaved one or two more pushes and it didn't come out, I started to get really tired. But then I decided that I really could be working a little harder-- not that it was any picnic up until that point, but I hadn't given it my abesolute all until then. Not the of medal-winning, baby delivering all that maybe was required.

So I geared up, got ready to give it everything I had, and screamed. The stupid midwife had her fingers in there and was massaging oil around. Now, I know that the midwife is supposed to do that, and it's supposed to help ease the baby out and prevent tearing, but I'll say something here that might shock and appal you: I would prefer the pain of tearing over having her fingers in there. Really and truly. Okay, really and truly as long as it's not a third degree tear. But she could have warned me. Or at least asked me. You don't just stick your fingers up someone's hoo-hoo without warning. I don't care what the circumstances are. I HATE HATE HATE that feeling. It makes me crazy. I screamed for her to stop but she said something about her having to do it so I had DH (DEAR, DEAR Husband) explain to her that I really meant it. Also, all the rubbing and the horrible disturbance it caused me (again, I shudder to think of it) distracted me from the business of birthing. I couldn't push while she was doing that. I couldn't at all. It was very counter productive. I was ready to kick her in the face. But I couldn't move my legs on my own and I don't think she would have happily helped me to do it. If any readers feel the same way about this, I would be happy to know that I'm not alone here.

To give her credit, this is a perfectly normal procedure for midwife to be doing and I'm probably the first person ever ever to tell her to stop. In fact, I was probably the first person in the hospital ever to be uncooperative during labor, so it stands to reason that she was doing what she was doing without any guilty feelings at all. She was actually pretty nice and respectful and definitely knew what she was doing. But at that moment, I hated her.

With that crisis over, I geared up once again for the Big Push. I pushed once, I pushed twice, I though to myself, 'push harder, let's get this over with!' and I gave it another huge push-- then I heard 'stop pushing!' I cant! I couldn't stop pushing remember, my body wasn't entirely in my controll. But it was all okay. A couple of seconds later I heard a cry and saw the midwife pulling the baby out and placing her on my chest.

I didn't have this pleasure with the birth of DS. His cominng-out was a lot more hectic and they took him straight to get weighed and measured and wrapped. I did get to hold him and feed him before they took him off to the nursery, but it wasn't immediate contact.

The first thing I noticed was how huge and heavy she felt, all curled up on my chest. To tell the truth, at that moment I was so weak that I don't think I would have been able to support a cup of coffee with my bare hands but I had a bed underneath me and holding me up so I was able to handle this little baby girl. I put my arm on her. She felt nice. I liked her. I got to hold her that way for a little bit and then they took her to clean and wrap her up. The midwife asked if I wanted to hold her again, but I told her that I didn't think I could.

It was time to deliver the placenta. I said no way. I can not push one more single thing out of me today. Let's do it tomorrow. But the midwife gave a big heave on my stomach (again, I wanted to slap her. Doesn't she know what I've just been through?) and with a few gentle pushes, I was able to get the thing out of me. They spread it out on the cart to get a look at it. It didn't look to me like you could tell anything from it, but what do I know?

At that point, I was shaking so hard I felt like I was riding a lawnmower. I was assured by various personel wandering through my room at that point that it was completely normal and not to worry. So I didn't worry but I did continue to shake. I also asked to be covered with a sheet. Just because I finished giving birth doesn't mean I want to sit around with my legs open for all the world to see. I don't care if they're doctors.

I can't remember if cutting the cord came before or after delivering the placenta. DH wanted to do it but I think he was also a bit weak and couldn't get a good grip on it with the scissors so he declined.

And then came the stitching up. I had a second degree tear. Whatever. It was superficial she said. Whatever. It was over. I consulted my watch. The whole thing, from the time of my arrival at the hospital, had taken under two hours. Under and hour forty-five. The baby had done her part, I had done mine, DH and midwife had done theirs. We had done well. We have a new daughter.

I guess I should go to the hospital soon...

The contractions are quite frequent. Maybe even under five minutes. Obviously, they're not that intense or else I guess I wouldn't be blogging my progress. DH, thank Gshesod, is home. Our dear neighbor came over to see if there's anything he can do. We're waiting for my sister to get here. She's on the train. Otherwise if we have to go we'll leave DS with our neighbor.
she;s here.
going soon....
not too soon....

Contractions?

I don't know about this whole contraction business. I mean, I seem to be able to actually set them off by standing up from a seated position or straightening up from a bent position. But they feel like contractions, allright. I just didn't think I would be able to manipulate them like this.

They're currently very random in frequency and they're only a few seconds long each. Say, 10-15.

Baby Names Part 2 (I think)

Considering that I'm feeling contractions, I should probably be doing something other than blogging and twitting... like making arrangements for my son for the weekend. But here I am. Thinking about baby names some more. I had one in mind. I grew to like it. I began thinking of the baby in those terms, with that name. Then we consulted with someone about it and what they said made DH nix it. Like I said before, I'm giving him more control over this name since I had so much influence over the last. But he keeps insisting on these junk food names. In fact, the one he's set on is #1 NUMBER ONE in the list of baby names locally. It's a nice name, yes, and it's got some nice connotations to it, but gosh... I really don't want my kid to have a name equivalent to the Jessica or a Stephanie of my generation. Nothing personal against any particular Jessicas or Stephanies. Or Jennifers. It's just that today those names sound kitchy and dated. I did find out that the name he wants is actually biblical in origin, which makes me feel a little better-- and the person whose name it was in the bible is someone who I could live with. So althogh DH has a higher bid here, I don't think I'll submit my veto quite yet.

Progressing

Bloody show last night. And now what I was thinking of as 'silent' contractions from yesterday becoming real, non ambiguous ones today. I'm pretty sure. Things seem to be moving right along.

This whole nesting thing I went through last pregnancy doesn't seem to be happening this time, beyond the need I feel to just straighten things up. But then again, my house is rather messy right now. Last time at 38 weeks I was scrubbing the walls.

Oop. There goes another mild contraction. Damn. That was less than 5 minutes apart. DH is about to sit down for an exam. Maybe I should arrange for someone else to pick up DS from nursery.

Kicking Is Contracting

Had a very-late-pregnancy checkup today. In fact, it's my due date. They put a heart monitor on me for half an hour which revealed that what I've been thinking are kicks are actually contractions. Just painless ones. The ultrasound showed the baby active and in place, which is good. I am really counting on a natural childbirth this time. The doctor wanted to do an internal examination but I wouldn't let her. I didn't see any point. If I'm not painfully contracting and we saw on the ultrasound that things are hunky-dory then I'm going to wait them out. The Dr. (who was very nice and didn't try to pressure me but did spend a few minutes trying to convince me) said that if I am already five centimeters dilated then they'll just keep me there (my checkup was at the hospital) and I'd have the baby. This makes no sense to me. While it's possible that I could be dialated already and without any pain whatsoever, it's really really unlikely. There is no way I'm going to give myself over to the hospital and submit to all kinds of exams and poking and prodding until I absolutely have to. Besides, my plan is to give birth in another hospital altogether.

A friend of mine was due the same time as me. She went into labor late last week in the same hospital. She ended up with a C-section. She progressed nicely to 6cm and then stopped. The baby never descended. I stopped by to see her today while I was there. She's looking good-- it's a few days later-- and she says the baby's fine. I didn't see him. C-section is one of my nightmares, but I guess in many cases it's necessary.

Sick Sick Sick - Pregnant With a Fever.

I guess I must have been pushing my pregnant body too hard on that day. I didn't really realize how tired I was until the late afternoon. We went a family trip in the morning and spent a good chunk of time wandering around and in the sun. The car ride itself was very crampy and tiring for me, not to mention hot. When we got home I prepared coffee and snacks for our guests and that was when I started to realize just how much I wanted to lie down. When I finally did fall into my bed a little while later, I all of a sudden started shuddering and shaking, groping for the sheet on our bed in 40 degree heat (that's about 90 or so for all you farenheit fans). I called my husband to bring me another blanket and then another. I was definitley feverish.

It's really scary to be this sick when you're this pregnant. I had no idea what was wrong with me. The shakes eventually went away but I still needed the protection of my blankets. After a while I shed the blankets as well and used just the sheet. A shower made me feel much better, but that was all the getting out of bed I did that evening-- oh, and I got up a couple of hours later to eat a bit of dinner.

I was nervous to go to the hospital, though that was definitley an inclination because of how worried we were. The thing is, I know that at this very late stage in the pregnancy, they wouldn't hesitate to just take the baby out either by c-sectoin or inducing-- probably the former-- if there was even the smallest sign of danger. It's easier for them. But it's definitely not something I wanted. So we decided to wait it out, at lest for a few hours. I'm glad we did. By the morning I felt much better. I was pretty much back to normal though I made sure to take it easy for the rest of the day. And since then I've been trying to avoid anything that is too physically stressful. I've learned my lesson well. The fever, we deduced later, was due to heat exhaustion.

Off With My Rings

With apologies to my husband, I took off my wedding rings today. I usually don't like to take them off at all and leave them at home. I feel that they are safest when they are on my fingers. But lately I haven't been able to get them off and they're starting to irritate my fingers and leave indentations where the swelling has gotten to be too much. So this morning I realized I had just enough squeeze space to slip them off, and that's what I did with a touch of hand cream for lubrication. It's been a few hours but the indentation is still there.

I was worried that in a worst case scenario my fingers would really really swell or else I'd have to go to the hospital for some procedure and then it would really be a problem. I think I wore them through my last birth. I remember having difficulty removing them only towards the end of the pregnancy but even then it wasn't so bad.

DH made fun of me for apologizing to him over taking them off. He is not sentimental about things like this (though I'm sure he's glad I wear them on a regular basis.)

Flip Flop: Pregnancy Positions and Floor Avoidance

I'm not a big mover and shaker in bed. I'm also not someone who talks about my sex life so please don't misinterpret my words. What I mean is that I don't do a lot of flip-flopping in my sleep. However, I have been known to change positions over the course of a night.

Right now, and it has been this way for the past couple of months, probably-- ever since I got HUGE -- I can't simply roll from side to back to other side. Something about the slosh slosh of my belly prevents this from being a comfortable maneuver. In fact, I would say that most maneuvers are uncomfortable for me lately, but when turning over in bed involves waking up, sitting up, and then shifting my weight, the burden of it is a little more memorable.

I'm also dealing with maybe a tiny bit of nesting-- though you could also just call it the urge to pick up after my toddler and live in a reasonably neat house-- but it's too hard to pick things off the floor. I know this because it has just taken me a half hour to tidy up what should have taken about three minutes. And I'm still not done. I've been begging DH to recover things for me from under the couch for days now but he always finds excuses. In order for me to do it, I would have to actually lie down on my back, I think.

***Update**** He picked everything off the floor and out from under the couch when he got home.

Still, if i drop something, once it's on the floor it's pretty much lost to me. Oops. There goes my bobby pin-- I'll just get another. Spoon fell? The drawer is much higher than the floor. I'll get another from there. Even if the spoon is, say six feet (maximum-- I'm a tall girl) away from me and the drawer is farther than that. Then again, I don't like moving very much at all. Turning around in the car's passenger to look at DS in his carseat is something I've learned to avoid by just waving to him in the side-view mirror.

This too shall pass.

Up Up Up

Officially 77.1 kilos today. That's 170 lbs for you Americanos. No wonder I have trouble getting up hills and up the stairs (why oh why do we live in a walkup?) I'm carrying around the equivalent of a microwave oven strapped to my midsection.

The scale at the pool actually said 77.4 but I'm going with the scale a the clinic this time because... my hair was wet...

right.

I'm heavy. Hopefully this will all dissapear with the arrival of baby. People still tell me how skinny I look. Those people didn't know me 9 months ago.

Sling Thing

I got a new baby pouch that is meant to handle children up to 30 lbs. DS is nearly that much, and I wanted to see if I could carry him in it. It's one of those types of carries that is all one piece and that sits over one shoulder. A baby gets cradled in the fold of it and a toddler can sit in it.

I put the thing over my head and straightened it up. Then I located my toddler and held him at my hip. Now what? I wondered. I wasn't sure what the prefered way was to get him inside. I bought this thing used and it didn't come with instructions, nor did the website provide any help.

So I stuffed one of his legs through the thing and out the other side. At this point he was still intrigued enough that he didn't struggle. I realized he had to have both legs through the sling so he could sit with his tushy in the fold and his legs around my hip (at least, that's what it looked like in the picture.) So I tried stuffing the other leg in. This is where he started to lose patience with me. I persevered, though, and he was in, but not so very amused. So I took him to see what was going on in the mirror. Carrying him was ok. No matter how good a sling is, a baby weighs what a baby weighs. I felt pretty comfortable but I did feel the weight. It wasn't until after I took him out (at his urgent request) that I started to feel what a strain carrying him had been on my abdominal muscles, or what I imagine to be my abdominal muscles. With all that stuff going on around my belly area, I'm never really sure what's hurting or cramping or gurgling or kickign around.

I was worried that I'd done something stupid. I had oligohydramnios in my last pregnancy (lack of amniotic fluid) and there's really no way of knowing why for sure it happened. (Though I blame it on a nasty electric shock I got late in the pregnancy) It led to being induced a little early which led (probably) to a much more difficult birth and a longer hospital stay-- I won't go into it now. So this pregnancy I've been really careful not to do anything that might put strain on my uterous, such as lifting heavy objects or doing too much bending around. I make an exception when it comes to lifting my son. But this sort of lifting is not the kind I'm used to after nine months of near inactivity. I felt as though I'd pulled a muscle-- something I wouldn't normally worry about but it's not hard to find things to worry about in pregnancy. Today I feel a lot better and the strain is gone. But still I don't think I'll be using the sling again until after the baby is born.

Hair Hair: Pregnancy Bonus

I can't remember the last time my hair looked so fantastic. A bonus courtesy of pregnancy hormones. My nails also grow faster than I can bite them down. I could get a new manicure every three days... perhaps that would actually prevent me from biting them.

Dry Nipples and Cream

This post was republished from http://breastfeedingchronicles.blogspot.com . It's about me. I thought it would be relevant here as well.

I am very bad at doing all these girly things like putting lotion on after a shower -- or ever. When I'm pregnant I make a bigger effort with my cocoa butter lotion in order to prevent stretch marks. I know, I know, there's no guarantee-- but I didn't get stretch marks last time. Of course, last time I didn't get nearly as big as I am this time. To give you an idea of how little I use ceram, I've had the same bottle of Palmers since we got married and now we're on our second kid. Do the math yourself. I bought another bottle when I was pregnant last time but it's still sitting new in my cupboard. And I don't only use it during pregnancy. I used it on my face in the winter when the heaters and the breastfeeding were making me so dry that I felt like my face was cracking off.Back to my nipples. The point is, they're dry and cracked. I don't think it's thrush but I don't want to take the chance. But I also don't feel like putting lotion on. Truth is, I just plain forget all about it. Who thinks about dry nipples until they take their shirt off. And if I'm taking my shirt off, I'm probably on my way to bed and I don't have the energy for nipple rubbing, or else it's morning and I have better things to do, like chase after my DS to get him dressed for kindergarten. I guess we'll just have to wait and see if this clears itself up like it did last time. Actually, maybe I was a little more diligent about it last time. I recall using baby oil or something. Or was that on my itchy scalp?

What To Wear? Getting Bigger All The Time

People tell me I'm all belly, but I know that's not the case since when I put my hand around to my backside to scratch my butt, I get there a full two seconds sooner than I expect to. That's serious bulk we're talking about. I'm counting on it all melting off beautifully when the baby is born.

Mostly right now I'm strapped for clothes. For a number of reasons, it would be silly of me to go out and buy new things right now. For one thing, I'm almost at the end of this pregnancy. But nothing is comfortable-- not underclothes, not maternity clothes, not stuff that actually fits, and not stuff I have to stuff myself into. I just want to wander around in DH's pajamas all day.

The train has left the station: Pregnancy Brain

Some things you can definitely blame on pregnancy. Some things you can blame on pregnancy but people are less likely to believe you. One of these things is forgetfulness and what I call 'swiss cheese brain' or 'the train has left the station' syndrome. I'll begin a sentence and then forget where I was going with it. My tactic is just to shut up and let the other person reply. Pass the burden-- that's the key. I can't wait until this symptom goes away. Please let it go away.

Pregnant and Sick to My Stomach

The last three days or so I've been dragging even more than I've already been. I thought it was just, you know, pregnancy and being tired and slow. But then I realized that no, this is not just regular blahs. This is sick.
It began with a cold and then I developed some kind of stomach ailment. I'll spare you the details, but I will tell you that this happens to some women before they give birth-- it's the body's way of clearing the system for labor. In my case I know it's not so because dear husband, brother, sisters, and brother-in-law, all who were over at my house this weekend, are or were also sick to varying degrees. Sounds like I was hit hardest, but considering my 'condition', that's hardly surprising. I just hope this clears up before I go into real labor.

At first I thought that DH was just having sympathy paints-- couvade syndrome. But when I found out that it was actually everyone who was ill, I stopped flattering myself with that notion.

Update: I feel much better today, though I am sure that I'm a bit dehydrated from having expelled so much fluid so fast. On the plus side, my feet are less bloated!

Baby Names - How Tos and What Not to Dos and Some Suggestions

I can't believe I have not written on of baby names yet. The name of this baby has been a hot topic during this pregnancy. The following is my philosophy on how to name a child. Or at least the rudiments of my philosophy on how to name a child.

I am opposed to choosing a name based on if it's 'cute' or 'pretty'. That's what I call a junk-food name: a moment at the lips, a lifetime on the kid. I need a name to be meaningful to me-- in addition to sounding nice. My DS is named after my grandfather and DH's grandfather. Both very special people. There is someone I wouldn't mind naming this baby after but DH doesn't like the name and I told him he could have more of a say over this kid's name because I had so much influence over the last one. I still have to LIKE the name for this kid, and it still has to be meaningful to me, but I won't pressure him into something only I like.

The problem is that all the names he likes-- well, most of them, are -- as I mentioned above-- junk food names. Think of all the 30-year-olds you know today called Stephanie and Jennifer and Jessica. Think of all the 15 year-olds called Brittney. I feel like parents called their kids these names because they were hot or cute at the time. Like Mary or Doreen or Sharleen or Doris or Carol were in their time. Matilda. Some old names are coming back now-- Bella, Ella stuff like that. Personally, All these names are fine, but they shouldn't be chosen on the basis of whether they're popular today. What's popular today becomes dated very fast. It's also unimaginative to use a name just because everyone else is.

Biblical and other classic names are usually a good standby. Jacob, for instance, is always a good, solid name, although it's also a very popular one. Has been in the top ten for centuries. Then again, boys names, at least those ones at the top of the charts, usually lean towards the more conservative. Then you get things like Aiden and Haydn and Kaydn, Baydn, Ethan, Tyler, Hunter, Dylan, Jaydn -- I'm seeing them a lot on baby name charts but do they really mean anything to the parents choosing them? I hope so. I might be mistaken. I don't want to alienate little Haydn's parents just because the name is not meaningful to ME. I mean, Haydn may be a lot more meaningful to those parents than, say, Michael or Nathan, which are both of the classic and/or biblical variety. But my point is that I am against choosing names for my own children unless they are based on something that I can connect to. Anything else is empty calories. Nice at the moment but later on has the chance of becoming just extra weight.

Now, what does 'meaningful' actually mean? As I mentioned, my DS is named after people who are dear to us. There's no need to explain why that is meaningful. I know another couple who named their baby a name that means 'tranquil'. That's because they're both frazzled people and they wanted the opposite for their son. Some people name their kid after an event or a place that they would like to remember-- like if the parents met in Denver or Georgia. These are just some examples. I've seen families with theme names. Like namig all the kids names that start or end with the same sound or names that rhyme or all the kids are named after different birds or places. This can get tacky, but it doesn't have to be. If all my kids had 'nature' names, I wouldn't mind. It's what we're into, and both my husband and I have 'nature' names already, though DS doesn't. In short, a meaningful name has some thought behind it besides just 'does this sound nice with our last name.' The source and depth of the meaning can vary.

Names that DH has been choosing ring, to my ears, as junk-food names. I told him that instead of just reading through lists of names to see what he likes, he should start with an idea that he likes and work from there. For instance, he loves the sea. He loves music. There are plenty of names that would resonate with those ideas.

Well, we're still working on this but we're going to have to move fast. Baby is upside-down and getting ready to make an appearance sometime soon.

Pregnant At The Dentist Some More

This is a letter I sent to a dentist friend out of desperation for the tooth pain I've been having and the anxiety of dealing with it during this last stage of my pregnancy. Actually, I tried looking up the problem online and I found that a whole lot of people are going through what I'm going through... but nobody seems to have a solution.

Well, if someone reading this can tell me what to do about it, I would greatly appreciate the help.
Here's my story:

I'm having a bunch of tooth trouble and it's really bad. Also, it's turned into kind of a mystery. I've written the details out below. Would you mind having a look and seeing if you can come up with anything?

It began with what I thought was tooth pain. That was about a month ago and I was about well over 30 weeks pregnant. I was convinced that I had to get a root canal-- the pain was almost unbearable and it was radiating throughout my cheek, ear, and up to my eye sometimes. It kept me up at night. But a visit to the dentist and an x-ray showed only a regular cavity and also a clogged sinus. I went to see a doctor about the sinus pain and she prescribed Moxiphan for a bacterial infection, which I took.
By the end of the course of antibiotics, the agonizing pain had subsided, but there was still pain along my upper jaw when I ate hot or cold foods. I thought that filling the cavity would help it. I finally had my cavity filled at almost term. The pain subsided for a couple of days, though the area was very tender. Then I began having shooting pains along the top of my jaw again. Not as bad as the original sinus problem, but still enough to make me stop whatever I was doing and run to get ice whenever it happened-- which was often. The pain got steadily worse and worse until I got to the point yesterday that I couldn't even touch that tooth or chew even on the left side of my mouth in fear of accidentally hitting my painful right tooth (tooth 15?) while chewing. The food that I do chew isn't well chewed-- I can't grind food finely between my teeth because I can't completely close my jaw due to the pain. So I end up swallowing food that is not adequately chewed.
I went to the dentist today again-- the same one who did the filling a week ago. She did another x-ray to see if there as nerve damage but she said the nerve looked perfectly alright, although she still saw some fluid in the sinus. She showed the x-ray to the other dentist in the office and he also didn't see any problems with it. He suggested that perhaps I am having a rare reaction to the filling itself which my dentist told me is the gentlest one there is (P60?). If this is the case, she told me, I just have to wait it out a bit and see if it gets better. If not, the only solution is a root canal-- something she and I are very hesitant to do on what appears to be a healthy root.
In the meantime, she tried shaving a little bit off the filling to see if it would help. She had to freeze the area because the drilling was very painful for me. Then she put some kind of a fluoride coating on it which (from my understanding) is supposed to condition the filling to my tooth... or something. Keep in mind that Hebrew is a second language for both of us. She told me that rinsing with a sensitive-tooth mouth rinse that has fluoride in it might also help me (as opposed to an antibacterial mouthwash.)
As for me now, I am considering an all liquid diet. Though soup is not the ideal food in 40 degree weather.
If you have any other ideas of what the pain might be or how to solve this, I would really appreciate the help. There is the off chance that this is all somehow related to pregnancy (my dentist also said she's seen some weird stuff in pregnant women) and that it will go away after I give birth. In any case, if we do end up having any major procedures-- like a root canal-- I will definitely want to postpone it until after I give birth. If you even have ideas of how to temporarily numb it so that I can eat properly that info would also be appreciated. I've been using ice, which helps but obviously not in a long-term way.
Thanks a lot-- and I'm sorry to bug you with this, but it is really that bad.

Compression Stockings - Dare I?

As most of my readers know, my pregnant feet are swollen with third-trimester edema. This does not cause me great discomfort, however I came across a pair of compression stockings the other day-- the knee-high kind-- that I bought for a plane trip during my last pregnancy, and I've been considering putting them on, despite the July heat and my lack of air-conditioning.

I don't get to put my feet up that often. At least not as often as it seems I should. So while I'm sitting and typing at my desk, I might as well put these things on and gain the advantage of a little better circulation.

The problem with wearing these, besides the heat, is that I have to plan a whole outfit around them. Since they are only knee high, and I am tall (rendering the stockings not-quite-knee-high), I have to wear a skirt that is long enough to cover the tops of them even when I sit. Then there is the shoe issue. While stockings usually solve the shoe issue in the winter, in the summer they present he problem of not being able to wear them with my thong sandals. Actually, my husband's thong sandals which are the only ones that fit me right now.

I don't think I'll be wearing compression stockings anytime soon. This post has helped me make up my mind.

Biding My Time 'till Baby

Despite certain discomforts (big belly, big feet, painful cheek), I am not in any rush for this baby to come out. I want it to come at the right time, in a natural way. Because of the nightmare with my last baby-- he was induced and it was horrible-- I don't care if I go all the way to 42 weeks. I just want it to happen naturally. Also, I want to know what the experience of having a baby feels like without all the added drugs and tubes and monitors. I want to know how I handle it. Will I break down and ask for an epidural like I did last time after several hours of non-retreating pain due to the artificially introduced hormones? Will the baby come quick and easy? I want to know. But I don't want to know until the baby is ready to come out. I always harbor some sense of guilt that we pulled DS out before he was ready to go. I am reconciled to the fact that he may have been in distress and that it was the best way to go at the time, but there are always the vestiges of heart over mind to deal with.

Exhaustion. Third Trimester Kicking In

This pregnancy plus the heat is leaving me exhausted. DS's kindergarten is about four or five city blocks from our house, which is part of the reason why I chose it. It normally takes me about four or five minutes to walk there and even less to walk back since there is a mild incline all the way there not to mention a set of stairs to get from our building to the street (not to mention that we live in a walkup.) Now in the last part of my pregnancy, I get home from dropping him off and I just need to sit down, drink, and relax for a few minutes (which turns into more than just a few minutes when I'm in front of the computer). The fact that it's 40 degrees outside doesn't help matters.

I spent a lot of time relaxing yesterday becaue the day before that, I'd spent about 12 hours in the kitchen on my swolen feet preparing food for a dinner we were hosting (yes, don't worry, DH helped out, but there's only so much he can do). The day before that, we went to a festival on the beach and had to park about a mile away. Even though it was evening, the sun was blazing and I got home so exhausted that I had to go straight to bed.

This morning on the way to nursery I was contemplating how much better I felt after spending the day relaxing yesterday. But by the time I got in my front door, it was all I could do to grab a bottle of water and a box of ceral for some energy before I plopped down in my chair.

Sigh. Well, laundry time calls. I'm sure I'll be back in my chair soon enough.

Finally Putting My Feet Up - This Pregnant Lady Loves the Dentist

Who likes going to the dentist? My experience today took me from feelings of ambivalence to sheer pleasure... and I also enjoyed observing a bit of irony in the whole thing.

I was in the middle of giving DS a bath this evening when the dentist's office called. Uh oh. I was late for my appointment. After spending an entire day rushing about, I was looking forward to having DH put DS to sleep and spending some quality time with my computer. Instead I found myself hurrying out of the house once more.

When I got to the dentist's office, I finally had a few minutes to calm down. The room was air-conditioned, the TV was on, there were plenty of magazines to browse. The secretary wasn't angry with me. The dentist had taken someone in since I was late and I was able to take the time to refill my water bottle at the cooler and catch up on the latest television commercials. It's been so long.

Just a little too soon, the dentist's door opened. She called my name. She asked how I was doing. And then she invited me to sit down and put my feet up. I was glad to oblige.

I have had two chief complaints in this pregnancy, and especially in the last couple of weeks: edema, or big, fat, swollen feet, and sinus pain in my cheek. I just finished a round of antibiotics for my sinus pain, which was discovered by the dentist via x-ray at my last appointment. I'd originally thought it was a toothache. Well, today I took care of it all in one shot. It turns out that at least part of the pain I was feeling and attributing to sinuses was tooth pain. The dentist said that a previous filling on this same tooth had come loose and there was food in there, which might account for at least part of the terrible pain I was feeling.

But as I sat there with my fat legs raised comfortably at the end of my dentist chair and had my cheek problem taken care of at the same time, I wasn't thinking about the painful anesthetizing needle or the drill in my mouth. I reflected on how happy I was to not be washing dishes or running about or picking things off the floor. And I was very happy to be taking care of two pregnancy symptoms at once-- from my head down to my toes.