False Labor Is Fun!

But it didn't feel false.  It hurt like hell.  For three days.  Here's some hospital pics.

And that was triage my friends!

Letter From a Touchy Pregnant Lady

Dear People Who Look At Me Like I'm Crazy For Having A Third C-Section:

I know you're just curious and you probably don't mean to be rude.  I'm a big believer in natural childbirth myself, and tried to do so with my first baby.  After 36 hours of labor (without an epidural) and only getting to 4cm and -3 station, I was exhausted, okay?  I ended up giving birth to a 10 pound, 10 oz baby boy via c-section.  Yes, that's a big baby.  He was healthy and I recovered well.

As for my second pregnancy and why I chose to have a c-section... it's really nobodies business.  Yes, in hindsight I wish I had tried for a VBAC, but my situation was personal and I don't wish to share it with the world. I had good reason to go with the c-section and let's just leave it at that.  In the end, I had a healthy nine pound baby girl.

And yes, can you fucking believe it?  I'm having a third c-section. I must be a victim to the over-medicalization of birth... but at this point it is what it is.  I probably could have tried for a VBAC but my only luck in this area for a VBAC after two c-sections is getting a mid-wife and giving birth at home.  I support home births... and actually encourage them... but I'm not willing to risk any complications that may occur as a result of my two previous c-sections.

And yes.  I'm aware that c-sections are major surgery.  I know this. I recovered from them myself.  I also know that each c-section gets riskier, but there are also risks involved in having a VBAC after two c-sections.    So think what you may.

Also, to the people who ask me: "Why are all your babies SO big?!" Because they are.  They just are.  It's genetics my friends.  And if I DID have gestational diabetes, it's none of your business.  I have never gone up to a woman who had a tendency to have small babies and asked, "Why are all your babies SO small?!" Because it's rude.  Because she may just have small babies.  And anyway, it's none of my business.

I know a lot of it is curiosity, and I know most of you are nice peeps and all.  But perhaps you should think before you speak... and just you know... stop judging.

Sincerely,
Sonja the pregnant lady having ANOTHER c-section and victim of the over medicalization of childbirth

Beckett Update

So I'm 37 weeks today.  I had a check-up yesterday and I found out that he's dropped and I'm 50% effaced (for those who don't know, it just means that the cervix is thinning out and getting ready for dilation).  No dilation yet though.  Last week I wasn't effaced at all.  I've been having pretty strong and consistent Braxton Hicks contractions for the past few days, so that's whats doing the trick, I think. Not that any of this really matters because I'm having a section anyway.  But it means we're getting close, and that's exciting.

They also did another sono because I told them that I had felt reduced movement on Tuesday.  I didn't call the doctor's office because when I actually ate something and rested, I felt about 20 movements in an hour.  You want to feel at least 10 movements in an hour... so I wasn't too worried.  Then on Wednesday he was moving like crazy, so that was reassuring.  Anyway, because I go to an extremely intervention-happy OB/GYN, they wanted to do a sono... which I thought unnecessary but whatevs.  I've resigned myself to the fact that no hospital in the DC area will do a VBAC on a two-time cesarean mama... so might as well just stick with the hyper-intervention practice.  So they did the sono to make sure he's doing okay, and yup... he's doing okay.  The pics they gave me were pretty blurry so they're not worth posting, but my sweet baby boy was sucking his thumb!  He was trying to stretch out and was pushing his head against my cervix.

Hey kid.  You're not coming out that way.  I wish you were.  So stop it.  You're making me uncomfortable.

I really can't wait to meet him.

Fun With Photos

We went to Glen Echo Park about a month ago.  It was hot.  It was miserable.  We stayed for only an hour.  But it's a cool park.  It's old and probably really eery at night.  So I took the liberty of making some of the pics look all scary.  Because it's close to Halloween and all.  

Deep dark forest.

Ryan.

The totally awesome carousel.

Kiera on the carousel, but I made her look all freaky.

Weeeeee!

Fancy carousel.

All done.

She's going to eat you alive.

Lunch.

Crystal Pool.  All that's left is the entrance.  Eeeeery.

I'm pretty sure they saw a ghost.

This one is just a weird picture.

The Good Mom

I woke up in the middle of the night last night... as I do most nights.  I had to pee for the thousandth time, and I slowly rolled back into bed, my legs and thighs aching with the weight of our unborn son.  My thoughts turned to my children...

Especially Ryan.

Bringing another little boy into the world has made me think about how I've been raising Ryan and what mistakes I've made.  As a result, a world of regret came crashing down around me... at three o'clock in the morning.

Ryan is my first born.  I had him when I was young.  I wasn't ready to be a mom, but I thought I was.  At the time, I was congratulated for being a "good mom."  I breastfed, I read him stories, I cuddled him and loved him fiercely.  But I didn't like being a mom.  I didn't like the responsibility; the constant attention that one must give a child.  And sometimes this would manifest.  Sometimes I would get angry and resentful.  Sometimes I would expect my son to do things that were beyond his capacity of doing.  I was hard on him.

Too hard sometimes.

Not abusive by any means... but enough for me to feel the guilt. Some may say that the guilt I feel is normal parental guilt... especially when it comes to first children.  After all, the first child is likened to the experiment.  The first child is an introduction to parenthood.  The first child is like the alarm that goes off at 6am... waking you up from a blissful sleep to reality and responsibility.   How do you handle it?  How do you not make mistakes when you're so bleary eyed and confused?

My son is sensitive.
He's creative and loving.
He has a lovely smile.
He's goofy, and has some really silly dance moves.

But he's also spacey, and lacks focus.  He's been diagnosed with ADHD.  He cries at the drop of a hat.  He apologizes profusely if he does something wrong.  He desperately wants approval.  I worry about him.  Sometimes my expectations are still too high... and I have to force myself to back off.  To let him be.  But I'm trying to show more patience.  He's such a rare little soul.  As unhealthy as it may be to think this way, I still wish that I could go back and do things differently.  I know this thought process won't change anything... and it certainly won't help me feel better.  But I'm human.  And maybe the mistakes I made will help me be a better mom to all my babies.

Dorkies and Daydreams

Yesterday afternoon was a bit of a dramatic affair.  Ernesto worked from home and was able to pick the kids up from the bus stop.  The bus stop isn't far, but it's up the street... which is up a hill... which is not up my alley as I'm now hugely pregnant and tire easily.  So off he went.

About 30 minutes later they arrived at the house.  I had assumed the bus was slow in arriving because of the rain. But as Ernesto and the children entered the house, my darling husband let out a "Jesus Christ!" and I knew something was amiss.  Ryan appeared before me with a look of fright and bewilderment and then I found out what had happened.

Ernesto was waiting for the bus, and when it arrived he noticed that somebody important was missing.  Kiera got off the bus, but Ryan didn't.  And then the bus drove away.

Uh, we're missing a kid here?

And of course at that very moment of panic, my husband didn't have his cell phone.  Doesn't it always happen that way?  Kiera insisted that Ryan had been on the bus.  So luckily, one of our neighbors and a fellow parent of one of the students offered Ernesto a ride in her car to chase down the bus.  Ahhh yes.  A dramatic chase. A mystery to be solved.  And parental panic sky high.

I'm so glad Ernesto was the one dealing with the situation... what with my delicate emotional condition and all.  I swear I would have peed my pants in sheer terror that my child was missing.

Long story short, they were able to flag down the bus, and ask the bus driver if there was a Ryan Loveless on board.  The bus driver said no.  He said Ryan was still at school because he cut his hand and his parents needed to pick him up.  Yes, let's add even more confusion to the whole situation.  Not to mention the fact that Kiera had insisted that she saw Ryan on the bus.  Anyhow, Ryan ended up being on the bus, completely oblivious to the fact that he had missed his stop.  Apparently he was engrossed in his library book called "Special Effects," and he was daydreaming about his future scientific inventions.  My little boy, his head in the clouds could've ended up at the school bus garage... or wherever those buses go at the end of the day.

So we had to have another conversation about paying attention. Another conversation about how daydreaming should be reserved for moments when he doesn't need to focus on anything. And that perhaps he shouldn't read on the bus.

On a lighter note, Kiera was being her normal precious self this morning.  As I perused the newspaper at the breakfast table, she decided to look at the classified section.  She found two Yorshire Terriers for sale and insisted that we buy them.  I told her that they were Yorkies, and that they are expensive and  does she have $500 to pay for them?  She insisted that she had the money to buy the "Dorkies."  Why, as a matter of fact she has a few coins in her piggy bank.  I told her that the YORKIES were too expensive and that if we decided to get another dog, it would be from a shelter. But she didn't listen.  She just smiled and said that she wanted a "Dorky," and that she would get a girl "Dorky," and she would get one of those fancy carriers that had a little rug and pillow to keep her "Dorky" comfortable.  And that she would name her "Dorky", Layla.

Portraits of Beckett

I haven't posted any pictures of Beckett in a while.  I had another sonogram today.  My last one until he's born.  I got a good look at his nose and mouth... although it seems his hand was over his eyes again.  He's so dramatic.

 30 Weeks

He looks kinda funny in this one, but those 3D sonos can look a little freaky.

30 Weeks

 I say this looks like a Leonardo Da Vinci painting.  What a thoughtful looking baby.

36 Weeks

 Kids waitin' for some boob.

36 Weeks

Chubby cheeks.

To Have and Be Pretty

Sunday was a gloomy day with grumpiness galore.  As a cure to the glum day, me and Ernesto took the kids to downtown Silver Spring.  After going to Borders we ended up at Copper Canyon, a chain restaurant located in downtown Silver Spring.  Copper Canyon is one of those restaurant's that we seem to choose on default because there's not much else to choose from in that particular location... I mean unless you want to go to Red Lobster or Macaroni Grille etc.   So Copper Canyon it was, where the lights are dim, and Kenny G seems to play on repeat... but the food is okay and reasonably priced.  After sitting through the waiter's annoying spiel and false smile, we ordered our food.  I helped Kiera color her restaurant provided coloring page without a second thought, and ate my dinner.  Just a relaxing evening with the family.

But then I actually decided to pay attention to what Kiera was coloring.

The coloring page was covered in stiletto's, purses, lipsticks and fashion accessories.  Huh.  Interesting.  So I looked at Ryan's coloring page.  Oh how cute.  His coloring page had little buzzing bee's on it, with little bee word games and what not.  I looked back at Kiera's page.  The word finder game had words such as "shopping mall," "purchase," "purse," and an abundance of other words that were so blatantly boasting consumerism and sexism that I could barely take in a breath.  I tried to take the coloring page from her.  But she loved it.  She loved the girlie things... and of course she didn't understand what the problem was.  But the problem was the message:  You're a girl and this is what you should like.  And she clearly liked this message.

But look at where we were.  Downtown Silver Spring.  Revitalized. A consumer's wet dream with chain restaurant's and stores galore. Borders, Anne Taylor Loft, Ulta, and an abundance of others. Don't get me wrong.  I'm not anti-capitalism.  I've purchased items from these stores guilt-free.  In moderation of course.  But to distribute a coloring page to a five year old girl boasting the importance of things... of getting.. of having... disturbs me beyond measure.  It bothers me that this would be aimed at children... but it is especially revolting because it is aimed solely at girls.  Because this is what society expects these young girls to become. Consumerists.  Selfish, shallow consumerists, obsessed with image and material things.

Ernesto was shocked.  I was shocked.  I was angry.  I wrote across the top of the page in bright red crayon, "THIS IS SEXIST".   Then we paid our check and left.  Ooooh... I showed THEM.

Yes, we left.  Without saying anything.  And I regret it.  As I walked out I saw a man who looked like the manager, but I just strolled past with my kids... not saying a word.  I should have brought the coloring page with me.  I should have shoved it at him and told him how offensive it is and how horrible it is to promote such crap to little girls.  But I didn't.

Maybe I'm part of the problem.  Because of my silence, I was saying that it was okay. They probably wouldn't have done anything about it.  But as a woman and as a mother to a daughter... I should have used my voice.  I should've shown my daughter that speaking up is what you do when something isn't right.

Some may say that it's just a piece of paper.  That she didn't understand it.  That maybe I'm overreacting.  But that's because society has become numb to the problem.  We just roll our eyes and look the other way.  But by ignoring the problem in society... by becoming numb to it... we also become numb to it in our own homes. Which brings in another issue.

Kiera likes all things girlie.  She loves pink.  She loves dresses.  She loves to look pretty.  It's not the end of the world.  I was the same way as a girl.  But I haven't been the best at teaching her the importance of herself... of who she is.  I pick out her outfits in the morning.  If something isn't matching quite right, I'll tell her to change her shirt.  I brush her hair in the morning because she doesn't do it "good enough".  I've become THAT mother.  I wonder why she's so obsessed with looking in the mirror, and then I criticize her for having a stain on her shirt.  I may not be boasting consumerism to her, but I realized that I'm no better than that fucking coloring page.  "Look pretty Kiera," is the message I'm conveying to her every morning.  And don't get me wrong.  There's nothing wrong with pretty.  But would it kill me to let her go to school in a mis-matched outfit that she chose herself?  Would it kill me to let her brush her hair in the morning and not criticize?  But more importantly, am I not killing her sense of self by promoting looks and image every day?

When she walks out of her room all dolled up saying, "Don't I look pretty?" or when she tells me that she wants to be a "pretty womans" when she grows up... I'll just cluck at her like a mother hen and shake my head disapprovingly.  "There's more to life than looking pretty, Kiera," I say.  And then I go back to my business.

But my daughter is still there.  Waiting to be taught.  Waiting to go out into the world.  And that's all I say?  There's more to life than being pretty? But what more is there?

Your brain, Kiera.  Your disarming intelligence.  Your creativity. The gifts of your big personality.  Your kindness.  Your ability to stand up for yourself. The amazing optimism that you were born with.  Your lovely spirit.  Your love for life.  All those things are more important than being pretty, Kiera.

I think Katie Makkai's poem "Pretty" sums it up pretty well:

Breastfeeding Ads: United States vs. Canada

On September 9th, 2010, the New York State Department of Health started a new breastfeeding campaign aimed at lower-income women.  The campaign is called, "Breastfeed For My Baby. For Me."  Part of this campaign will include TV ads that will run through October.  I find the ads condescending and belittling to women.  The ads also perpetuate a common breastfeeding myth... that you will lose weight if you breastfeed!  Well, it was a myth for me anyway.  Sorry if the YouTube vids are cut off a bit.  My page layout is whacked.  But you'll get the idea. Watch:



Yes low-income ladies! Breastfeed so you'll look fabulous! Plus there are health benefits for the baby.  But breastfeed so you can be skinny like all the ladies who have more money than you!

It may be argued that we should be happy that women breastfeed no matter what reason.  But I don't think these ads will have much of an effect on the demographic it's aimed at.  One, I know that studies say that women burn more calories and therefore lose more weight while breastfeeding.  But I, as well as many other women have found this to be untrue.  The weight comes off slowly and it took me about a year before I got my body back (which wasn't really my previous body what with all the stretch marks and extra belly skin).  In addition, learning how to breastfeed is hard.  HARD.  Women need almost constant support and encouragement in the first weeks of breastfeeding.  And if that's lacking... they sure as hell won't continue breastfeeding just because they want to look svelte.  Women in general will make peace of mind and sleep a priority over losing baby weight. Furthermore, if you want to aim a breastfeeding ad at lower-income women, you might want to mention that they can save almost $2,000 on average in the first year of life.  Yes, formula is expensive... especially for lower-income women.  I think that would make a bigger impact then telling them that breastfeeding is like a free Jenny Craig weight loss program.

In contrast, let's take a look at Canada.  Yes, wonderful down-to-earth, sensible Canada.  In Nova Scotia for example, they have a breastfeeding campaign called, "Breastfeeding.  Learning Makes it Natural."  And let me tell ya... it's a breath of fresh arctic air.  The ads are simple, and make a damn good point: Breastfeeding takes time and practice. Again, the vids are cut off a bit. Watch:





How simple! How intelligent! How un-obnoxious!  I don't know how effective these ads will be, but it gets a realistic message out there.  The message is:  We know it's hard.  Stick with it.  Practice. It WILL get better. We support you.  And eventually it will be an enjoyable experience!

It doesn't treat women as shallow beings who only care about their image.  The New York Department of Health sure could use some Nova Scotia brains.

Summer Walks

It's been hot. So so so hot. I've tried to take daily walks to get my pregnant body moving, but some days were so hot this summer that I would go a week without going for a walk.  I would just send Ryan out with Banjo.  But on the days that I was able to get out and tolerate the heat, I would take a walk.  Yes, this was very exciting for me.  Walking up the street and back.  Weeee!  But yeah, I can't wait for cooler weather so I can walk on a daily basis.  Rock n roll!

And Ryan is so cute.  Whenever we go for walks, he talks non-stop about his invention ideas and his time machine that he will invent when he's 24 years old.  He's got big plans people!

Fun With Pasta

Just some pictures of my kids eating or playing with pasta. Amazing!

Impeccable table manners if I say so myself.

Weekend Things

T'was a relaxing weekend after dealing with some really mean thunderstorms on Thursday and Friday. On Friday evening we FINALLY got a new camera.  Yes people, we can actually take pictures now.  We are very excited about this.  Problem is, my husband never takes pictures...which means I'm the one snapping photos...which means there are rarely any pictures of me...except if my kids get a hold of the camera or if I'm taking a photo of myself, which I hate doing.

So Friday night, we hung around and were just lazy.  It was nice.  I played with the camera a lot. Here, look at some super fun pictures that I took.

Kiera took this one.  I don't look pregnant in this pic...just a little plump.

Kiera wanted this pic to be in night vision. Maybe it has something to do with her spy infatuation.

Banjo.

The man and his dog.

On Saturday morning we went to the Girls Rock DC show at the 9:30 Club.  It was way awesome.  Girls Rock DC is a summer camp for girls 8 - 18 where they form a band, and learn how to play an instrument.  They write their own songs, learn about teamwork, gain self-esteem and self-respect and most of all...come away with a sense of empowerment that seems to be lacking among girls and young women these days.  At the end of the week, all the bands put on a show and it was pretty fuckin' rockin'.  Kiera loved it.  She was bouncing off the walls with enthusiasm and dancin' like a pro. Ryan on the other hand was his typical self. He stood there rigidly the whole time with his hands stuck at his sides. No smile. I tried to get him to clap and smile, but that kid refused to show any hint of emotion.  Just wanted to be his reserved self.  And that's okay.

So here are pics of the show.  We left a bit early to beat the crowd, and I didn't take as many pics as I wanted because I was still trying to figure out the camera.  Plus the photos are all blurry and shit. Oh well. The DJ pics are my fav.

My dad also moved back to DC this weekend. So that's cool. Ernesto and my pops ended up bonding over scotch, cigarettes and Julie London...among a million other things. Yeah so. They get along quite nicely.  Not that I was worried.

Deep Thoughts Of A Five Year Old

"Some people are scared of meatloaf." -Kiera


So true Kiera.  So true.

Night Terrors

Every few nights for the past month or two, me and Ernesto wake up to Kiera screaming. She usually does this at about two in the morning. When we go in her room she is either lying down or sitting up in bed. She's shaking and her eyes are open. And she's crying. Sometimes it's a whimper, other times it's as if she's having a temper tantrum in her sleep. Inconsolable and crying loudly. At first we tried to reason with her. Kiera, what's the matter? It's okay baby, we're here. Even though she was obviously not awake. But it's a helpless feeling. We want to wake her up. We want to reassure her. And for god's sake, we just want our sleep. But nothing works. She won't wake up and we shouldn't try to wake her up according to the article we read today. It would only cause more confusion and frustration. But we can't help asking her questions while she's having an episode. Do you want some water? Are you having a bad dream? Do you want me to rub your back? And she never answers. You know why? Because she's asleep! Even though we know this, we can't help but try to communicate with her. Last night Ernesto was trying to help her. Nothing was working. Then I said, I'll take over honey. I know how to handle this. All I have to do is rub her back. Yes, I thought my mommy skills would work like a charm. But no. She didn't want me to touch her. She just seemed confused and started screaming louder. After about ten minutes she just rolled over and fell silent. Back to blissful, peaceful sleep. Back to dreamland...although she never left it.

I'm not sure if we should take her to a doctor yet. Apparently night terrors is a common phenomenon in children ages 3 to 8. We read that it could be caused by a disturbance in her sleep cycle, and she has been staying up later because our summer schedule is much more relaxed. So back to the normal bed time routine. If she's still having night terrors, then a doctor visit will be in our near future. We also read that night seizures can look the same as night terrors. This is a disturbing thought, and we hope that's not the case.

Yeah, so hopefully we'll get back to a full night's sleep. At least until Beckett arrives.

Heatwave

I have spent the last five days indoors...except for when I run errands. I just can't handle the heat. And the very idea that the car will be sweltering prevents me from leaving the house more than once a day at most. I mean I have a/c in my car, but I dread that moment right when I get into my car and it's so stiflingly hot that I can barely breathe. I've been throwing my kids outside on a regular basis so they can get dirty. And I will be venturing back out tomorrow. Otherwise I'll go insane. On a positive note though, my kids have spent so much time outside that Ryan caught his first toad today. Yay summer!

Photograph

New pictures from my cell phone.  Goofy kids and fun times.