Target, Babies R Us, or..

I debated whether I should have posted this now or not, or even at all. But since I have no filter, or a very tiny one, I decided to just go with it.

You know when you get married there are the staple places that people register at: Target, Bed Bath and Beyond, Macy's, and occasionally Pottery Barn. The same thing is true for baby registries, only the list is much smaller: Target, BabiesRUs. That's it.

It is a frustration of mine that these two stores have the monopoly on this market. I decided to go with Babies R Us just because I thought that it might have more things than Target. I have no idea what I based that on. No real research was done before coming to that conclusion. Maybe it is just that the baby section of Target is a only a few aisles, while Babies R Us is an entire store building. Who knows. But upon my very first visit to Babies R Us for my own baby I was disappointed. Deep down I knew I would be, but I still had hope, naive though it was. Walking around that store, my baby daddy and I were nearly immobilized by the overwhelming number of "stuff" for a baby. The sheer quantity is daunting and immediately makes one question their ability to parent. "There is no way I can afford all this stuff! How can I ever be a good parent to this baby???" We certainly had a little spat while in the store. I wonder how many times a day that occurs- hormonal mom, irritated father trapped in an obnoxious store. And when we left, my husband was so grumpy; he just couldn't get over the audacity of the registry attendant telling us what we absolutely needed, and that we didn't have enough stuff on our registy. Sigh.

In the end I added only another 10 items to our registry. That is all I wanted. From there. There are other stores that I wanted stuff from, and I decided that I was going to take the gamble and register at those smaller, less known stores. Because they actually have the kind of things I am looking for. Remember me, the granola mama. Cloth diapers are definitely on the list. Baby wearing-check. Organic materials-check. And they have an online option, so people could just order the stuff online and avoid having to drive to Anaheim. So convenient, right? Not to mention that it is the exact stuff that I really want, which they do NOT carry at Babies R Us. Yup, convenient and useful, right?

I thought so anyway. But I am starting to fear that the only store I will get gifts from is Babies R Us. That damn store! Even when I try to limit my exposure to you, it seems that I cannot escape you. I haven't had my baby shower yet, so who knows, I may be pleasantly surprised. But I am not hopeful. It was a gamble registering at Babies R Us, a gamble that no one would even visit the online registries for the other stores. But when you play with fire, you should expect to get burned.

Yes, I totally compared Babies R Us to fire. Did I mention that I am hormonal??? So here's to me learning, yet again, to trust in the Great Designer, that all I need will be provided for, and to let go of that silly illusion of control.

Really?!?!?

So there are a few things I expected to eventually hear when I found out we were pregnant. They are as follows:

1.) Your belly is so big/cute.
2.) You look great!
3.) I can tell you are having a boy/girl just by the way you are carrying the baby.

So far, I have heard all of these, and I welcome these comments of excitement with open arms.

But then there are the things I never never NEVER anticipated people would say to me. They are as follows:

4.) Wow! You are so big! Are you sure there is only one baby in there???
5.) Your butt has definitely gotten bigger.
6.) So, whose the father?

Just kidding about the last one. No one has ever said #6 to me (yet) but the other two...yup, and on more than one occasion. Admittedly, I do look big, but I would never have the guts to tell a woman that she looks so big she must be having multiple babies. In the wise words of Stephanie Tanner, "How rude". And this comment (#4) is made to me at least once every few weeks. In fact my mother-in-law started making these comments to me as early as 14 weeks. Thankfully my midwife says that my uterus is measuring at the normal size, so really I am not that BIG, but I just carry the baby differently, i.e. sticking way out.

And the comments about my butt?!?!? Really?!?!? Even though I am pregnant, I am still a woman people. Think to yourself, is this the kind of comment a woman would appreciate. Or better yet, ask yourself, "Would I like someone to tell me that by butt looks bigger?" then decide not to ask the question. Sheesh!

In summary, keep comments 1-3 coming. Me love those! And the rest, those are the ones you say in your head but never to a mom-to-be.

FYI :)

Due Dates

The two most frequent questions I have been asked since people found out I was pregnant are:
1. What are you having?
2. When are you due?

The answer to the first question is "I don't know. We want to be surprised?" and I explained my reasoning here. But the second question is a bit more tricky. Because, you see, I do have a date that, according to the date-wheel-thingy and my doctor, says when this baby is due. Also there are websites where you can enter the first day of your last cycle, and/or your conception date if you know that and it will spit out a due date. Oh! And even my midwife uses an app to predict my due date based on my cycle history, date of my last cycle, and date of conception. So there is a science behind all this. I can with reasonable assuredness answer that second question with, "Little is due February 3rd". But that due date is more of a suggestion.

This baby can come whenever it wants to come. Some babies come early, up to a few weeks early is considered full term and safe for delivery. Some babies come late, up to a few weeks late even. So with a few weeks before and a few weeks after, there is at least a 6 week window when this baby can come safely. I hesitate to hold fast to February 3rd because first time moms tend to go past their due date. Also, I don't want to get too set on February 3rd because I am afraid it might cause me anxiety if that day comes and goes and nothing has happened. And finally, this is a great exercise in learning to release that tiny planner in me that likes to control all things, and to surrender to nature, to my body, and to trust in the design built into my body more than in calculations and formulas.

I have heard that in times past, before these fancy due-date-wheely-things were created, women would answer the question like this: "The baby is due sometime in early spring/late fall/mid-summer/etc". This was as specific as they could get. There is something quaint and romantic about this. I envision women during the late 1800s, think Anne of Avonlea, in long dresses with lace, and their hair up in intricate buns that I can only dream of doing myself, well... like this

And as they gather for their tea to gossip, chit chat, and bond (as women have done since the beginning of time, I'm sure), the topic comes up, "So Susanne, I hear you have some news to share" 

"Well, indeed I do! I am happy to tell you that come late winter Jonathan and I expect the arrival of a little one!"... yup, that just sounds so right to me. That is the way to do it, at least to an old soul like mine. 

But, today, that answer just doesn't work for people. So when people ask me when the baby is due, on the outside I am saying "Early February" but on the inside I am saying "Late winter".  :)

Do you know what you're having?

So I am at the point in my pregnancy where it is possible that I might actually know if I am having a girl or boy. But we have chosen not to find out. Our midwife doesn't like to prescribe ultrasounds unless she is concerned about something and it is necessary for her to check on the health of the baby or myself. If I really wanted to I could just ask her for one, and she would send me to the technician that she uses. But I don't really want one.

I've always been old fashioned in my heart, an old soul, and so when I thought about having a baby in the past I knew that at least once I would like to be surprised just like generations of women were before me. I wasn't necessarily adamant that I needed to be surprised for every child, but at least for one. Well, since it took me so long to get pregnant, I have to be honest, I am not confident that this will happen for me again. Lots of people tell me how the second time is easier, and that may be true, but as I've mentioned before, life has taught me that it is unpredictable. So rather than falling into the same routine of planning with the second, I will embrace the joy of this first experience fully. If this is the only child I am blessed to bear, I would like it to be in the old fashioned way.

Do I ever wonder what the baby is? Of course! Am I dying to know? Sometimes. My husband seems to struggle with this more than I do. But it also feels like we are on an adventure, a journey to get to know this life, and the suspense is thrilling!

There is a video blog that I follow, and this week's episode was about baby gender. I had intended to write about this topic before I had seen the video blog, but I think it is really interesting that we both had similar topics. In case any of you were interested here is the video blog episode:

Her question of the week reminded me of a conversation that I had once with my husband about baby gender. We haven't settled on how many kids we would like exactly (I think once we actually have one, we might be more prepared to answer this) but I did ask him "What if I have 3 or 4 girls in a row? Would you want to try for one more to have a boy?" His answer surprised me, "Yes..." at this point I got mad, how can you be so chauvinistic?!? Is having a male offspring really that important?!? Are men more important that women?!?, but then he continued "...but if it were reverse and we had all boys, I would want to keep trying for a girl. I just want to know what a you-me combo would look like if it was a boy and a girl." He is a great man and I love him so much! He values both genders equally, and shows them the same honor. I know that whatever Little turns out to be, this daddy will be the best daddy for him or her. And that settles my heart and my curiosity! :)

I know, you think I'm crazy...

So most of you who read this already know what I am about to say. But there may be some out there who don't know, and I find myself nervous to say it for their sake. I guess I am dreading the judgement about to come. It's not like I haven't already received my share of judgement. In fact, all but maybe 2 people that I have told have totally passed judgement, with their eyes, their silence, and sometimes their words. So here it goes...

My intention is to meet this child for the first time in my own home. Translation = I am having a home birth.

When you tell people this, their response is usually... well, here, Jim Gaffigan nailed it:

Best line = "I wanted a home birth, but I wanted my baby to live." Hilarious. The truth in this line is so great. When I tell people that I am doing a home birth, the look in their eye tells me that they think I am crazy, and clearly I do not love this child because if I did I would not endanger its life by doing something so risky.

Are there risks, yes, but no more than I would face if I had the baby in the hospital. The risks are just different. In order for me to be considered for a home birth I had to take all the initial tests that any pregnant woman would. In fact I did take those tests at my Ob/Gyn's office. And all was well. If there were any serious concerns I would not be able to have a home birth.

I guess the main reasons for my decision are that:

• I want this experience to be a sacred one, and I have a phobia of hospitals so that would be difficult for me to find in hospital.
• I believe in the miraculous design of the woman's body and its ability to bring life into this world.
• I try to live a natural lifestyle, meaning, I try to limit the amount of processed and institutional influences in my life, in what I eat, in how I care for my home, in they ways I treat my ailments, etc. So it seems that having the baby at home was the most natural place to do this, at least to me.
• I think natural births are beautiful, and I would love to be part of that beautiful tradition.
• I trust my body. I am very in-tune with my body. I try my best to listen to it when it speaks to me, and I am excited to hear it speak to me as it prepares to open up and make room for life.
• I was really disappointed when I was told that I would probably only meet my Ob/Gyn on the day I delivered the baby. I want a bond/relationship with the person who is going to be there for this unique moment.
• It feels right in my soul. My heart is at peace with this idea and plan, so I will proceed until I feel otherwise.

Just because I was on board did not mean that my husband was on board. I had read books, and articles, and described to him the birthing experience that I wanted and how a home birth or a birthing center were the best way for me to have those experiences. He had started to come around, but what sealed the deal was watching "The Business of Being Born".

In this documentary there is a woman who is filmed having her baby and she looked serene. It was a beautiful birth, she looked relaxed, at peace and beautiful. She pushed out the baby with hardly a grunt and there was no fuss, no anxiety, just love and peace. When he saw that, he was amazed. "I want you to have that kind of experience" he said. And so do I.

So that is why my intention is to have a home birth. I know that something may happen that may prevent a home birth from happening, so I am trying to remain open minded, and thankful for hospitals. Yet, I would be lying if I denied that I really really hope I have, and I really really want the birthing experience I have dreamed of. For now, I am just doing the best I can to take care of myself, and my little one. I am following the directions and guidance of my midwife, and I am trusting in the one who made this all possible.

So, yes, I know you think I'm crazy, but you know love makes us do crazy things, and for me this is one of them.

Bonding?

Being late to the pregnancy party isn't so bad, there are allot of invaluable things I learned from my preggo friends while I was on the sidelines waiting for my turn. One lesson I was never even aware of was when does an expectant mama feel that maternal connection??? Some women make it seem like the moment of conception is the moment the bonding begins, but that isn't always the case. For a few of my friends, that time came much later than they expected and they wondered what kind of mother that would make them. Why had they not felt that "connection" like other women? Was something wrong? Were they good mom material?

This fear kicked in for me pretty early on. Some days I was so excited. Some days I would cry with fear and regret, quickly followed by guilt. "What are we doing?!?!? We can't afford a baby?!?! We aren't ready for this! We have tons of stuff to do before we do this!!!" and so on. Waffling between extreme joy, and extreme doubt was (and to a lesser extent, still is) a day to day struggle. And all the while, I never felt that magical connection/bond.

Even though my friends had warned me about this, I panicked. Is something wrong with me? Do I have that maternal instinct needed to make a good mama? When will I know that I love this life inside?

The answer to that question came right around this time:

14 weeks

We were in Hawaii for my husband's grandfather's funeral. We had decided to stay for a week to spend some time with the family in Hawaii. While we were there, there was allot of sadness, and I felt the loss even more so thinking about how the life in me would never get to meet the force of life that was Grandpa. Grandma seemed to be holding it together surprisingly well. At one of the gatherings she shared with me how this is the way of life, the old must pass to make way for the new, and she gestured to my belly. It was a beautiful moment.

Later that week I was standing in the dining room, and my mother-in-law saw some dark bloody spots on the floor where I was standing. She panicked. She yelled for me to go the bathroom and make sure the baby was okay. She was worried that I was having a miscarriage. I had just come from the bathroom and everything was fine. But her panic convinced me that I might actually be having a miscarriage. So I went to the bathroom again. Turns out the spots were just some teriyaki sauce that had spilled when we were taking out the trash. But later that night, I wept uncontrollably. Delayed reaction to the adrenaline. I wept because for that moment I thought I was losing my Little Love, and it was a terrible feeling. I wasn't ready for that, and that's when I knew that I loved the life inside. I still don't feel that magical bond that I notice some women have, but I know beyond a shadow of doubt that I love my baby and I am willing to fight for this life. I want to meet him or her one day, and on that day I will turn into a fierce lioness willing to kill to protect this life. So, no, I don't feel this overwhelming bond with my baby, but yes, I know it is in me, dormant and waiting to be released.

And what of my friends?

Fear not, the "connection" eventually kicked in, and I have witnessed these women become the most intuitive and nurturing mothers. They are amazing, and I hope I can be the kind of mothers they are to their little cubs.

Mars and Venus...Mars Is Pretty Cool

So when we found out we were pregnant we wanted to wait until 8 weeks to tell our family. We each had different ways that we wanted to do so.

I wrapped up a picture frame and inside the frame I had a note written that said: Soon this frame will have the picture of your second grandchild! (my brother has a son already) We gave that frame to my parents to open. Simple, but effective. There were hugs and tears, lots of happy tears.

He wanted to make a Rube Goldberg. He always wants to make a Rube Goldberg. I am pretty convinced that when he is sitting silently staring off into space, he is planning Rube Goldbergs in his head. So of course, he made a Rube Goldberg to tell his family, complete with a motorized finger-release-thingy, and a flying pig. Here is the finished product:

My husband is basically a 6' 2" twelve-year-old... which can be pretty awesome! Especially when he does stuff like this. We are very different, but, hopefully, in ways that will help us raise beautiful souls.