On Birthing.

This year I spent the 48 hours before Harmon's actual time of birth reminiscing about it. Every so often I would say to Aaron, Lois, or myself "this time last year I was doing..." Everything from "getting an ultrasound where they told me my baby was 9.5lbs" to 5am when I said to Aaron "only 2 hours and 44 minutes more of pushing and Harmon will be born." I hardly slept the night of the 23rd, just thinking about it. I still think those were the most anxious/excited 19 hours of my life (early labor) followed by the most painful 12 (not early labor), but they are also ultimately precious to me. Some people think that I am crazy for doing things the way I did, and perhaps I am, but if I had to choose to do it over knowing it would be exactly the same, I would. (In fact I am, aren't I? Ok, I do hope it will be shorter and less painful...) I somehow feel so empowered by the way I did it, it helped me recognize a strength I didn't realize I had. I also am not suggesting this is the way everyone should do it, but it was perfect for me. All I'm really trying to say is that reminiscing was both painful, and sweet. I couldn't help but cry when I kissed my baby at 7:44am one year after I held him for the first time.

In other birthing news, although I am ready for this baby to be out of me now, I am panicked thinking of all the things I have to get done before then. The thought that baby nina could come out safely in about 3 weeks is INSANE. I am hoping she will stick closer to her due date, and that I will somehow manage to be productive in the meantime. Maybe that means doing work while my child is sleeping instead of blogging. Nah.

Haircut?

My hair is driving me crazy. Your hair is supposed to not fall out and be all luxurious during pregnancy. It's a lie. Ok, maybe it's not a lie. With Harmon, I had fast growing thicker hair. With baby niña, I seem to be shedding insanely. I still have thick hair, and it's still growing fast, but I am tired of finding my hair all over the house, and most especially between my child's fingers on a regular basis.

Plus my hair is too long. It doesn't look good. And it takes forever to do anything to it. Also, I want bangs again. Just a little bit of bangs. Enough to cover up part of my pale face. Which brings me to my next point, my skin is sick without the sun. All you normally pale people, you are good-looking in the winter. But I am not. If only I believed in fake tanning.

But back to my other point. I want to cut my hair. But I have deliberately grown it out to the length it is to donate it to Locks of Love. And it's just not quite ready to be cut yet. I mean, if I want to look like I didn't just give myself a boy haircut. But it's calling to me. Oh Britney, how much I understand you on nights like tonight...

De-cluttering for idiots

Or rather, how to not acquire more stuff.

I love to buy things. The main problem with this is that I buy lots of small cheap things, big things just don't tempt me as much as a "good deal". I also love to keep said (mostly useless) things. I also end up collecting many pieces of paper with a small bit of sentimental value, or receipts and coupons, or anything that I "may need" one day. I don't know how to solve the papers problem. But I have figured out the lots of cheap junk thing:

Don't go to the store. Since we have been on a tight budget, and knowing I can't resist the dollar section and clearance items at Target (among other stores), I decided to just not go at all. The result? A. Zero spending on things I don't need (good) B. No new junky things are coming to live at my house (super good).

Unfortunately (ok, not so unfortunate) Aaron is scheduled to start at Amazon this week and has been doing some consulting work, so the moratorium on spending may soon be lifted. I would like to think that I have learned self-control but know it's untrue, since recently I was given a giftcard to Target (by Target, for creating a baby registry, hah!) and proceeded to spend it on small junky things that I didn't need. Except for the Sesame Street pumpkin carving kit. You KNOW I needed that.

Word Vomit

I love talking. I like stimulating conversation about important topics. I also like gossiping about totally unimportant things. Talking is really great. But what happens when you spend all day with a baby and don't talk to adults? You go crazy. And then when you get a chance to talk to your husband, you talk so fast your lips may fall off. You recount really meaningless things that you would not have otherwise shared with anyone ("the checker at the grocery store today seemed unhappy to take my coupons"). If it stopped with your husband, it would probably be ok. He would understand that you were crazy from lack of adult conversations and would listen to you even if you talked incessantly about ultimately boring things.

But it doesn't end there, does it? I go to the midwife, and I jabber. I see my mom, and I jabber. I get together with a friend, someone at church, someone in the store, anyone!, and I spew words. I can't even help it. And I know it's happening, but I'm powerless to stop it. It's embarrassing really. I mean come on Harmon, is it too much to ask for you to carry on meaningful conversations while playing with blocks? Seriously.

The Second Birth...

The first time I was pregnant I had no idea what to expect for giving birth.

Somehow I decided (surely influenced by my mother and my friend Jacki's natural births) that I wanted to have my baby as naturally as possible. My mom had told me stories about her three births (one I witnessed as a teenager) and the things she liked and would have done differently if possible (like changing positions, etc). It seemed to me at the time that using a midwife and a birthing center like Jacki had done was the best way to be able to "birth on my own terms". That way I could move around, not feel too pressured to progress faster, get in the tub, not worry about getting an epidural (as none would be available). Most people I'm sure thought I was crazy. But to each their own, right?

Well as it turned out, it was insane. I had read just about every book on birthing and especially birthing naturally I could get my hands on, and taken a class "birthing from within" (based on the book) with Aaron that helped teach pain management techniques. I knew that I could not even imagine what it would be like, which was both terrifying and somewhat freeing. In the end being two weeks overdue and successfully birthing my wonderful 10lb 12oz 23" Harmon was beyond horribly difficult, but the most amazing thing I have ever done (Read it here if you like). I still think about the experience on a regular basis, and am still not only proud of myself, but happy I chose to do things the way I did.

My parents however, were not as pleased with the experience. My poor mom spent much of the night in the car outside the birth center, not wanting to disturb us, but thinking that labor was taking way too long and something could be wrong. My dad and step-mom were concerned after hearing of the ordeal, and especially when I was unable to sit for 3 months after giving birth.

This time around, I am on different insurance, and as a result have two options for birth instead of three: hospital or home birth. Last time I really liked being away from the hospital (but still really close if there would have been a problem) and also away from our teeny tiny house. But this time there is no option for a free-standing birth center. And I still have no desire at this point for a home birth. Truthfully there is a third option, and that's the option I have chosen, a "birth center" on one of the floors of the hospital. I do get to use midwives (which I love!) but I worry that it will be similar enough to being in a hospital. I worry that I will have to stay too long (I stayed at the birth center for about 6 hours after having Harmon) or that I will break down and get some drugs pumped into me. On the plus side, my parents are all overjoyed at the word "hospital" even though my baby and I were just fine last time.

Maybe they are silly things to worry about, because I do know that however my baby girl decides to come out will be fine. I will be so happy to have her safe that it will likely overshadow anything else that happens along the way. I suppose it's partially just my desire to have control that plays into my fears about "how it will be". I also find myself wondering how my labor will be, if it will be just as long and painful, if I will have an abnormally large child again, if I can do it the same way again, if I can do it again at all.

It seems I would just be better off with my thinking from the first time: I have no idea what to expect. And that's ok.

Why Blog?

Warning, this may be a totally boring post.

I have been thinking the past few days about why blogging is so incredibly popular. Specifically I have been wondering why I like to blog and why I like to read other people's blogs.

Reading Blogs
1. It makes me feel like I keep in touch with my friends. Admittedly I am not so good anymore with the telephone, and this way when it is late or early or I have a minute I can see more or less what they are up to. I would like to pretend that I mostly need it for my far away friends, but I don't keep in very good touch with my closer friends either.

2. It's cathartic. I read a fair amount of what could be deemed "mommy blogs" of people I don't know. Most of them are funny, a few sad and some just interesting.

3. I like to see what acquaintances are up to. It's so weird, but I am a total blog stalker.

Writing Blogs
1. I really feel like I should keep a journal, but am terrible at it. Typing is much faster than writing things by hand, and it's all in one place, not in several books spread throughout boxes and shelves in my house.

2. Some claim to enjoy looking at excessive pictures of my child and/or reading my terrible letters to people. I enjoy that.

3. Again, it's cathartic. Being mostly alone all day (with Harmon) life can often get boring. No offense to Harmon, but he doesn't carry on a conversation very well yet. It gives me a chance to say a lot of the things I would just say to another adult human if they were in the room. Additionally it lessens my rage for some of the people I encounter if I write it down instead of ramming them with my car. It lets me get my thoughts out, with only some worry of boring people. I figure if I ever am too boring, I'm not forcing anyone to read.

So, this was a pointless post, just something that had been floating around in my head. Also I just spell checked and had no misspellings. Boo-yah.

Never Before and Never Since...

Several months ago Aaron and I popped in a DVD I made from photos of the kids in Ecuador from 2004. It's set to music, and meant to make you cry, if you are wussy like me. Turns out I am wussy like me. Anyway, the first song is 10,000 Maniacs "These Are The Days". And I thought as I watched it and listened to the lyrics that say "never before and never since...will the whole world be warm as this" as I have thought many times before, how true it is.

When I watch that video, when I think about those kids, when I think about the time I spent in Ecuador, I feel that so deeply. It was such a magical amazing time. And going back is never the same. It can't be. And that makes going back hurt. Even if going back is fun, and fulfilling, and wonderful, it's just not the same, and it never will be. And that's ok.

When I hear that song I also think of my freshman year of college. The same song is played over a video that the lovely Jacki created of video clips. And I feel the same but different about that period in my life too. I think about all the fun we had, how late we stayed up, how much annoyance we must have caused other people, how easy it was to be carefree, and how I didn't know how good I had it. But life will never be like that again. And that's ok too.

Because now I'm in a different chapter of life. One that some days seems so monotonous and dull, but is filled with so many moments of explosive joy and happiness. It's so easy (in every stage of life) to think back on the past longingly, to think it can't compare to right now, and really, sometimes it can't. During truly rough periods the past is far better than the present. But I think more often than not, we are in a stage in life that we will later look back on fondly. I sometimes find myself wishing that Harmon was a little older, but I know like all other parents on the planet that when he is I will miss little(ish) H. I will miss his army crawl and screaming "maaaaaaaa" (mas, which means more) at dinner, and I will think about how the world never was so warm, and that it won't be again, at least not in the same way. But that's what's great. If I stop and think about it, I can more fully enjoy right now and make even greater memories. And that's pretty great. As the song says, I do know I'm blessed and lucky.

I guess I was feeling emotional. I blame pregnancy.