Let us turn away from things political, because frankly I’m starting (“Starting?!” says the peanut gallery) to exhaust myself. Back to more pleasant things, like babies and the growing thereof. First up: me at 19 weeks! I lost my golden Hawaiian tan–not that I had it for all that long–during my period of morning sickness confinement, and I’ve also forfeited the belly button ring. I had that damn thing for 8 years. That’s longer than I’ve had my driver’s license, my high school and college diplomas, and my husband. That was an emotional moment for me.
The shameful truth is that this is what I look like when I’m not pregnant; I’ve simply lost the ability to suck it in. My weight has maintained at the same number, it’s just redistributed to front and center. Gratifyingly enough, I can wear all my pre-pregnancy pants in varying degrees of zip, and my favorite Levi’s 518 “super-lows” without any unzipping required. Go me! Another weird body change that you can’t see in this photo is that my hair is slightly thicker and it is also almost curly. It’s always been a little wavy, but now I can actually scrunch it into something resembling curls–most weird.
Next up: nest-feathering. My cousin K sent us a cloth diaper, some diaper “stuffers,” and this basket of Burt’s Bees “Baby Bee” goodies. Who knew diaper ointment could smell so nice?! *PSA announcement: a dab of Burt’s Bees diaper ointment soothes eyebrows experiencing post-waxing unhappiness.
For those of you who have visited before, our sturdy IKEA dining room hutch that used to hold up our wineglasses, bar kit, and wine rack is in the process of being converted into a child’s dresser and changing surface (as for the wine, I’ll just have to drink it when I am able). We have purchased about 3 dozen wipes and a dozen diapers thus far, and after some informal measuring we determined this drawer will hold 30 diapers and all the accessories. And look at the rainbow of colors!
Lastly, we were in the process of researching doulas and/or midwives to assist in the delivery. I have very…let’s say “specific” opinions about how I want my birth to be.* Tom has many wonderful traits but he and I are both going to be preoccupied, me more so than him, and when it comes to being the heavy, uncompromising “do it my way or get out” sort…that’s more my realm than his. So neither of us are going to necessarily be in a position to communicate well on the big day, and not having family around means that we have to hire a 3rd party ass-kicker to act on our behalf. A woman we know through a friend but who we like and respect very much and with whom we share many of the same views regarding childbirth is training to become a doula. Her goal is to eventually be a midwife with the credentials to open her own birth center. We struck a deal this evening at a barbecue, and while she’s not certified yet, she’s an educated third party who will work with us and with our doctor to have the birth we want. So hey! Diapers, lotions, and a doula. We’re rocking out.
*I fully recognize that the ultimate goal is “live baby, live mother” and whatever needs to be done to accomplish that is what I will ultimately do, “birth plan” be damned if the situation requires it. That said, I do not want my ignorance as a first-time mother to be used against me by the medical staff–however inadvertently–to pressure me into procedures that I don’t want or need (episiotomies come to mind–yowza). More importantly, because we are going to use hypnobirthing for pain and confidence management, I don’t want my “hippie” techniques to be undermined by seen-it-all medical staff, and a doula will be instrumental in helping to communicate our wishes in that regard to the doctor (i.e.–stop asking me if I’m sure about the drugs. I will tell you if I need them.). More about hypnobirthing and how it works into our plans later.