Junie Lately

Exciting news: we found someone to marry us! Our dear, dear, dear doula, Becky Leonard, offered her husband. He's performed five ceremonies, he does non-religious stuff, he's wickedly funny and smart and he'll look great in pictures too! I am so utterly excited to have Norm there in a such a great way on our big day. We keep joking that the Leonard's must be intimately involved in every Kellogg/Losey life altering event! Babies, weddings, who knows what else! Such a relief!

In other news, my baby darling June Elizabeth is almost 12 weeks old. How on earth did that happen? I swear the last 3 months have flown by. October feels like it didn't even happen. June is amazing. I have to tell you, after being a nanny for so many years and encountering all types of children, I am that much more grateful to have such a happy baby. She is so good. She's technically sleeping through the night. At this age 5 hours straight is considered sleeping through and she'll go anywhere from 5-7 hours.

Just for fun, here's our day-to-day routine (if I'm not working):

745am: Wake up! Junie will fuss a little until I wake up and get her into our bed and cuddle. I change her diaper, we talk and sing and she laughs. She's a super happy morning baby. 

845-9am: Nap! She usually falls back asleep after our play time in the morning. It's usually a little cat nap lasting anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour or so.

9:30am: Eat! The little chunker is drinking 5oz bottles, usually downing between 30-35oz a day. I'm almost worried that she's eating TOO much!

10-1230pm: Play time! She's usually really awake and happy during the late morning. She loves to swing in her swing, be outside with the big kids my mom watches or lay on her play mat. This is also a great time for me to run errands and get out of the house with her.

1pm: Eat! Another 5oz!

1:30pm: Nap! Usually she'll take a longer nap in the early afternoon. Sometimes she'll sleep up to 3 hours!

3pm: More play. I like to hold her and we'll play with her new favorite toy - a giraffe. When we met Santa* on Saturday he gave her a Baby Einsteins play set that includes this super cute giraffe rattle that she absolutely loves. (Sometimes she'll take another cat nap in here somewhere too.)

5pm: Eat! Again, 5oz.

530-6pm: Daddy usually comes home and holds her for a while and they talk and play. We like to give her a bath around this time too. Not every day though, she has very dry skin and it seems to aggravate it if we bathe her too often.

7pm: No matter what time she ate last - she has to eat around 7pm or else she sounds like she's dying of starvation. And I wonder how she weighs 13 pounds...

7-8pm: Sleepy bed time. We used to let her fall asleep downstairs in her swing with us but we've started putting her directly in her cradle when she starts to get tired so that way she knows her bed is for sleep. It's been working wonderfully and she's asleep within minutes.

1030-11pm: We wake her up to feed her another 5oz. She would probably sleep until 2am if we didn't wake her up but I worked to cut out that 2am feeding so now we do a dream feed. Dream feeding is basically feeding them when they're still asleep. We pick her up, change her diaper, feed her and put her right back in bed. She rarely even wakes up. And if she does, we swaddle her and she's back to sleep by the time we get back in bed. I know not every "expert" recommends a dream feed but it works wonderfully for us. 

430-530am: Wake up and eat another 5oz. I've been trying to cut out/push back this feeding because I know she could probably sleep longer. So I've been trying to do it the same way I cut out the 2am feeding. She'll wake up a little bit, kind of start to fuss and I give her her binky and make sure she's covered. If she isn't absolutely starving she'll go right back to sleep, if she is truly hungry, I'll feed her. I've gotten her to sleep until 530 and one morning even 615. So I know it can be done.

630-7am: Daddy usually get her out of bed and talks with her and changes her before he goes to work. It's their special time, just like June and I have our special morning routine. If she ate at 430, she'll usually eat again around this time. 

745am: START AGAIN!

My giggly elf. She does give Mommy and Daddy silent nights, if you exclude her weird grunting, snoring and heavy breathing.

*Santa is my grandpa - a real beard Santa! He works throughout Orange County and Riverside County and everyone loves him! It's so great. I LOVE the pictures we got of June meeting her Great Papa as Santa for the first time, even if she does look like a Jabba the Hut baby.

So there's our lives in a nutshell for the moment. The wedding is two weeks from today and I'm trying not to stress. I'm sure it will be beautiful and wonderful!

Babies, Weddings and Co-Habitation - oh my!

Have I mentioned that my wedding is 3 weeks away? Oh, it is.

It will be small, intimate and fun.

Am I ready?

NO.

I don't know about most brides but for some reason I am such a slacker bride. Maybe it's the brand new baby, maybe it's the seemingly short timeline, or maybe I'm just excited to get it done. (I mean that last one in a totally, "I'm so excited to finally be Mrs. Kellogg!" way, not like, "ugh, just get it over with already.")

We have pretty much everything done. My dress is in final alterations. My shoes are ordered. Catering, flowers, pictures, DJ, venues, etc. all done. Which is kind of impressive considering we started planning about 8 weeks ago! 

Why so rushed?! 

When we first found out we were pregnant we thought we should get married right away. Poor choice. Planning while finishing up my last quarter of college, still interning and also puking 24/7 was not in the cards. When it came down to it we didn't want to rush something just because we were having a baby. We loved each other enough to be in a stable, committed relationship for three and a half years so why get married so fast? We put it on the back burner and decided that next September would be perfect. It would mark our 5 year anniversary, 3 years of living together and June's 1st birthday. Perfect, right?

June was born, Thomas couldn't stand the thought of us not being all legally Kelloggs. He wanted to get married FAST. So here we are. December 23, 2011 I will become Mrs. Kellogg. One hitch...no one will perform our ceremony.

We technically don't have anyone to marry us. I'm going to try my best not to get political here but this has caused some major issues for us. Why won't any of the pastors we've asked marry us? Because we live together. So far it even hasn't been the baby, it's that we LIVE together. We have a baby, the jig is up. I'm a little more than peeved with the situation. Here we are, trying to do the "right"* thing and we can't. Are we supposed to live apart and somehow raise a baby together? Not sure exactly how that would work out.

I have hope though that we have finally found someone that will perform the ceremony. If I had known 8 weeks ago that we would have this much trouble I would have asked someone to get their license to marry us and avoid the offensive responses. 

I can truly say though that I am more excited every day that I get to celebrate my love with those closest to the both of us. And wear a pretty dress and awesome shoes.

Here's my dress!

(That's funny because this is awful and would make my ass look HUGE(er)!)

*I say "right" because I don't think that having the same last name makes us any more of a family than we already are. We love each other, we are committed to each other and we have a lifelong bond - a piece of paper doesn't get to define us. I'm marrying Thomas because I love him. Not because I have to. Rant over.

Macy's Thanksiving Day Parade

If a deflated Ronald McDonald isn't slightly creepy, I don't know what is.

Junebug woke up at 730. Thomas had left at 615am to go play basketball and then football (yes, I'm marrying a superstar athlete). My parents had offered to take June into their room this morning because I'm still recovering from yesterday's surgery but somehow that fell through so it was just June and I laying in bed, conducting our morning routine. (Our routine: change diaper, have bottle, lay next to eachother in bed, chat, laugh, sing and then she falls back asleep while I either watch TV or get up and get things done.) June loves TV. It's kind of worrisome to me because I know they're not supposed to watch TV until age 2 or stare at a screen until then. But she loves it. She's her mother's daughter, what can I say? If she was going to watch TV this morning I wanted her to watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. I set her up in her swing downstairs, poured myself some much needed coffee and about five minutes before the parade started June was out cold. I'm thankful for so many things and one of those is June's fairly predictable sleep schedule. She loves her sleep, again, she's her mother's daughter. 

QUICK UPDATE:

My surgery was successful yesterday. Dr. Man came to check on me before we began and I cried. I think my tears surprised him, I have been pretty stoic through this whole ordeal. He was very understanding and told me that a hysterectomy was a possibility but a very remote possibility. I was in the OR for about an hour and recovery for about an hour as well. I don't remember very clearly talking to Dr. Man after but he told Thomas that he's confident that everything is out. What he saw while in there was scar tissue wrapped around small chunks of placenta. I'm not sure what that means or why that is but I'm glad it wasn't something completely abnormal. He also said that while checking things out they filled my uterus with saline and that ordinarily the fallopian tubes would open up. However, my right tube was closed due to scar tissue. I don't know if this will be a future issue or what it means for ovulation. I'm not going to worry about it right now. I go back for a check up in two weeks and I'll get my answers then. So hopefully this is my last stint with surgery for a long, long time! Thank you all for the prayers, thoughts, texts, emails, smoke signals. It's such an amazing reminder of how many people care for me.

Fun Facts

Today I called Dr. Man's office precisely at 10:30am when they opened. The lovely front office assistant tried to make me an appointment for Wednesday. I was syrupy sweet as I told her, "no, you need to talk to Dr. Man. He will want to see me immediately." Of course, he did. They made me an appointment for 2pm. Thomas came home to go with me because not only did I not know what exactly this appointment was for but I needed an extra set of ears to compliment my drugged up ears. 

Good News: Um...well...they don't think it's anything cancerous! (And actually, I didn't even ask about this, I just assume they don't think that...)

Bad News: Dr. Man thinks it IS placenta. I still have close to zero answers as to why this is happening. 

So our plan of action is as follows - Dr. Man will get authorization from my insurance hopefully by Wednesday. If there's an opening to do the procedure Friday, we'll do it then. Dr. Man is technically off work Thursday-Sunday but he feels really badly about everything so he'll come in on his day off. Unfortunately it's not really an emergency, even though I'm in a ton of pain and there's a possibility of infection, so they can't "rush" the authorization. If not Friday, hopefully by early next week.

The procedure itself will be a hysteroscopy and a D&C. Dr. Man openly admitted that he's never done a hysteroscopy on a post-partum uterus so he's not sure how it's going to work. Usually, that would worry me but coming from Dr. Han Solo (Thomas' loving nickname) I feel confident. 

There's been some talk from family and friends about getting second opinions or changing doctors. Right now, I am in pain. Like labor pain, that bad. So the thought of holding out, finding someone who takes my insurance, getting an appointment, do more tests, then get another answer is absolutely excruciating. If after this whole ordeal there is still more pain or complications, I will try that route. But I truly believe that Dr. Man is doing all he possibly can to take care of the problem and that he is competent and able to figure this out.

So there's everything. I'm still scared. I'm still hurting. But now we have a plan. That's all I can hope for at this point.

Here's your fun fact for the day: the average uterus weighs about 90 grams. The last D&C Dr. Man extracted 107 grams of tissue out of my uterus. Yeah. That's a lot.

This is 100grams of ground beef...not my placenta.

Mommy's Health

It's serious time, guys. I'm not doing so well these days. As I said in this blog entry I had to have a second D&C about three weeks ago, followed by my second blood transfusion. It was basically a miracle procedure and I felt great after the initial recovery period. June and I were developing a great routine and I was finally enjoying our days. 

PS (In this case it's a pre-script): I'm sorry if I haven't reached out personally to family and friends during this time. Frankly, I'm having a really difficult time and don't feel like vocally verbalizing everything. This feels better than actually talking. Sorry, I love you all but this is how I roll.

For the past four days I've been in pain. The only way to really describe it is the beginning of labor; a rotation of dull and extremely sharp cramps. Unfortunately it feels exactly like the pain that prompted me to get checked out the night of my first emergency D&C. I waited it out thinking maybe my body was just trying to adjust and ovulate again. But last night the pain reached a level that scared me. My mom took me to the ER while Thomas stayed home with Junie. (How lucky am I that I have a mom willing to take me to the emergency room and a fiance to stay with the baby?) This was the third ER visit for this pain and I basically told the doctor what needed to happen. Dr. Man decided after the last D&C that we would wait until my first period to see if we needed to do a follow up ultrasound. So the ER doctor ordered an ultrasound. No stranger to these invasive ultrasounds (basically a wand with a condom is inserted into the vagina and they poke around to get the images they need, really fun stuff) I requested pain meds first. 

This is the ultrasound wand...it's not as fun as it looks.

The ultrasound was surprisingly quick and I was back in my room within 30 minutes. Because of the invasive nature of the ultrasound I was in even more pain after. The nurse came in and gave me more meds and while she was there she decided to check if my blood and ultrasound results were back yet. They were! Overall, I was incredibly impressed with Mission Hospital last night! Anyway, she started reading out loud. 

"You're only slightly anemic, that's good! hCG levels are at zero, also good. Okay, ultrasound, let's see. Hmm...it looks like there's retained placenta..."

I broke into tears and my mom literally yelled, "WHAT?!" Seriously? There's STILL placenta in me? After my doctor just got out over 100 grams of tissue? I cried. The doctor walked in about 30 seconds after the nurse delivered this news. He told us there was bad news and good news. 

Bad News: still tissue left in my uterus causing pain.

Good News: Dr. Man wants to do a hysteroscopy - look around the uterus with a camera - so I didn't need to stay overnight. 

Bad News/Good News: They do not think it's placenta. If it were, I would have some levels of hCG in my blood. However, they have no freaking clue what is in my uterus. No idea. What would be in there that has escaped TWO D&Cs? 

So I was sent home with a prescription for pain medication and orders to call Dr. Man first thing Monday morning to get the ball rolling on the hysteroscopy.

Here's the thing, I'm scared. For the first time in a long time I'm willing to admit that I'm incredibly worried about myself. My worries are as follows:

What if it's some sort of cancer or tumor?

What if they need to perform a hysterectomy?

What if it's an alien life form?

What impact is this going to have on future pregnancies?

How long will I have to recover from this procedure?

Can I really handle the stress of health issues and a wedding in 5 weeks?

Why is this happening?

I'm trying so very hard to look at the positives, even though I'm a notorious cynic and pessimist. I have a gorgeous, healthy baby. I have an awe-inspiring support system, including Thomas who has been incredible through all of this - either playing nurse or being a five-star single dad while I've been in the hospital. 

But what if? What if something is seriously wrong? 

Guys, I'm scared.

The Worst Day of Parenting (Thus Far)

Today we took June for her two month check up. She weighs 12lb 3.5oz, in the 90th percentile. She is 24in. long, the 97th percentile. Her head is 15 3/4 in., the 50th percentile. Her length is what absolutely floors me! Where does that come from? I'm only 5'2" and Thomas is 5'10ish. My mom, sister and both grandmas are under 5 feet so this long baby is out of nowhere! 

After our pediatrician looked her over and assured us that she was perfect (which we already knew) June started laughing. She laughs and smiles and coos at us all the time so we weren't surprised but her little giggles took the doctor by surprise. "Is that her laughing?" Well it wasn't me so yes, it's her. "Wow, she's really young to be laughing so distinctly. That's impressive." So our baby is impressive and of course, it's all thanks to comedy. 

June doesn't really like to be naked so after a few minutes she started to fuss which turned into crying, a very rare occurrence for her. Thomas and I joked to her, "Oh, this is nothing. Just wait for the shots." It was funny until the nurse walked in with the tray of shots and I felt like I was going to pass out and throw up at the same time. Needles don't bother me. Stick me, I dare you. But the thought of those coming toward my baby buggieloo made me sick. 

We got June into position, with Thomas and I up by her head and the nurse at her legs. Before the nurse even had the needles out of their sheaths, I was crying. She gave June three shots in quick succession. It was over within 45 seconds. June whimpered for about two minutes and I sobbed for about ten. She's never cried in pain before and it was a different sound. The deep-seated, soul slaying wail just about killed me. 

Hearing her cry in pain was the worst thing I've been through in her short 8 week life. My health issues have been a cake walk compared to this morning.  I knew today's appointment would be difficult but it still makes me reel at just how much my heart has grown. She is my heart. Now Junie is sitting in her Bumbo next to her Grandpa, wrapped in the quilt her Grammy made. She's contently staring at the ceiling and my dad's iPad. What a precious gift we've been given.

June in Charge of My Days and My Nights, My Wrongs and My Rights.

She hates being compared to Scott Baio.

June Elizabeth is six weeks old. It's incredible how beautiful, funny and smart she is becoming. We've made some major changes and they are allowing me to enjoy her even more. I no longer breastfeed or pump. I'm not going to make this post about the pros or cons of breast vs. bottle or anything because I am a strong advocate for whatever works for YOU, as long as you make an informed decision, is best for your family. I developed mastitis twice and until you've had an infection in your boob plus bleeding nipples all while trying to care for a newborn, please don't tell me to "nurse through it" and "just get over it." Not only do you feel like you've been hit by a truck while you've had the flu, your boob also hurts like an angry swarm of bees attacked you. Not fun once, and especially not fun twice. So there was that issue. Plus, I was on a myriad of antibiotics after my first D&C and second kidney infection and one of them gave her a terrible rash. So even pumping was difficult because I was dumping the milk. I had to pump and dump on four separate occasions due to medications and being put under anesthesia for the first D&C. So, bottom line, Junie is now on formula and she's doing wonderfully. I feel confident that we did the right thing because not only do I feel better but now I can get a good 4-5 hour stretch of sleep while Daddy gets up with her at night!

Having a newborn is crazy. She is an insanely good baby; doesn't cry for erroneous reasons, is happy being held or chilling in her swing, and eats on a wonderful schedule. But, still, there are struggles. Lack of sleep wears down your body and your mind. I've heard that your brain shrinks to accommodate lack of sleep which I'm sure will become evident when I start trying to write again. It's not as bad when you have an incredible partner who is willing to take care of things at 3am but having your sleep interrupted several times a night is rough. Even between 3am and 7am, when Thomas gets up with her, I still hear her and wake up, often having trouble falling back to sleep. Some days I beg her not to sleep so much during the day so maybe she'll sleep longer at night but then some days, like today, I implore her to just fall asleep already so I can sneak in a little nap. Poor baby, she's getting such mixed messages.

I'm officially one week out from having my second D&C and second blood transfusion. Dr. Man performed this one and even though I felt really icky for the first few days, I am feeling like a new person now. It was pretty scary hearing him tell me how the surgery went. Apparently I hemorrhaged so badly that he thought he was going to have to perform a hysterectomy. However, he got it under control and I still have my lady organs. Thank goodness. The only thing I now worry about, somewhat incessantly, is that with my next baby I will more than likely have to have a c-section. I have to tell you, I'm terrified already. Not because I'm afraid of surgery or anything of the sort (heck, I just had TWO surgeries within two weeks, no biggie) but because I was so determined to have a drug free birth next time. I felt so out of control with June's birth and truly believed that I could do it drug free. If that dang pitocin hadn't been in my system I'm sure that I could have done it without the epidural. 

What do you post c-section ladies think? Is the recovery bad? My doctor seems to think that I would have had a far smoother and faster recovery if we had done a c-section.

My Daughter, My Heart

June will be one month old tomorrow. 

Cue gasps, "What? She had the baby and didn't write ALL about it?!" 

Yes, it's taken me four full weeks to write this blog. I've thought about it, don't get me wrong but there's always been something in the way. Health issues, a newborn, and more importantly I had to come to terms with the fact that my birth was so far from what I wanted and had planned. 

But now looking at my precious nine pound, twelve ounce one month old sleeping on my chest, that seems trivial.

So here we go, how June Elizabeth made her grand entrance into the world:

Saturday, September 17 - Starting at about 5pm and into Sunday morning I was in full blown early labor. I had painful contractions every 3 minutes for hours, we even called my fabulous doula to come labor with us at home. After about 7 hours of this crap, we decided to go to the hospital. They checked my cervix and I was only 1 to 2 cm dilated and 50% effaced. Seriously? We walked the halls for an hour and they rechecked. Same dilation, same effacement. Because I wasn't 39 weeks yet, they sent me home. Yes, even with measurable contractions.

Monday, September 19 - I went in to see Dr. Man for my previously scheduled 39 week checkup. I was miserable, at the end of my rope; huge, uncomfortable, unable to move or sleep. I had talked to everyone who would listen about whether or not I should ask for an induction - something I had been adamantly against from the beginning. Dr. Man had made it clear that he would be willing to do an induction if he thought my body was ready. Before I could even ask, Dr. Man came in and said, "we need to get this baby out." What? Why? Apparently my blood pressure was high (it's usually 110ish/60ish and at this point it was 150/115 or so) and I was spilling protein into my urine. Both classic signs of pre-ecclampsia (I also had intense swelling) and he made it clear that the only way to cure pre-e was delivery.

Dr. Man called the hospital to see when I could get in to be induced. There were no openings that week and when decided to push another patient out of their spot the charge nurse opened a special time for me - 9pm that night. It was already 5pm. Thomas and I were kind of floored, we really hadn't been expecting this turn of events. We nervously drove home and made phone calls - we were going to have a baby and soon! I was a wreck, I didn't know what was going to happen and it was happening so fast. But because it was happening so fast I didn't have a ton of time to think about it which was a blessing. I would have gone crazy if I had had to wait. 

We showed up at 9pm, got checked in and by 10 I was hooked up to the dreaded Pitocin. Dr. Man had ordered some sleeping medication for me so that I could try to rest a little bit. Around 11pm, Dr. Man came in and decided to break my water and soon after, Thomas was sleeping soundly on the pull out chair in the corner and I was breathing through the contractions pretty well on my own. I slept on and off until our amazing doula, Becky Leonard, came at 4am. By that point the Pitocin had been turned up twice and I was progressed to about 4cm (I think, details are fuzzy). I was still breathing through the contractions but they were getting more and more intense. Over the next few hours and next doses of Pitocin, my pain was getting nearly unbearable. The contractions were so unnatural feeling; a pain that unlike the contractions that I had felt previously, I was unfamiliar with. At 7am the nurse came in and checked me again, no progress. She was very straight forward and urged me to get an epidural. As you remember, I did NOT want an epidural! However, at this point, she was making a good argument. My body was reacting to the drugs by fighting the contractions rather than allowing them to open my cervix. By 715am, I had my epidural and was pain free. I felt the pressure but the pain was gone. As Thomas said, they got their Amber back. I was happy and talkative!

We had visitors all day long. However, the epidural had made me very drowsy so Thomas and I slept quite a bit. Our families filled the waiting room, anxiously sitting and wondering when June would come. Every cervical check was announced to the group and bets were placed on time of birth. 

At 5pm I was finally dilated to 10cm! So exciting! However, June was still at a -2 station, meaning her head was not in the pelvis yet. We were so lucky though because both Dr. Man and the nurses agreed that it was better to let me continue labor and try to get her head down on our own. Some doctors would have either made me start pushing which would have only aggravated my cervix and probably had led to a c-section and other doctors would have gone straight to a c-section. 

I kept laboring until about 8:30pm when Junebug was finally in a +2 station and ready to be pushed out! Pushing was hard. I pushed for three hours but the epidural made it very difficult because I couldn't truly feel where or how I was pushing. We could see her head and her crazy thick dark hair but after every push, she would go back and I began to feel defeated. By 11pm Dr. Man came in and decided that we needed to use the vacuum extraction or we would do a c-section. One more intervention that I was dreading. At this point it had been 24 hours since my water had broken and I was developing a fever and June needed to get out. 

He prepped me by doing an episiotomy and went to work getting baby girl out. I honestly don't remember delivering her beyond this point. I felt her come out and be put on my chest but after that my memory is very fuzzy. I began to hemorrhage and there were complications delivering the placenta. I had suffered a third degree tear despite the episiotomy. My epidural had run out rather than them turning it down as they usually do. I felt everything, from being stitched to Dr. Man fishing around with both hands in my uterus trying to deliver my placenta. I was essentially losing too much blood and blacked out. The pictocin was exponentially higher than it was before and my body was not handling it well. 

Thomas knew there was a problem with me when I was handed June and within minutes I asked for him to take her. I couldn't even hold my own baby. He held her while Becky was with me and calming me down. We are both so grateful for Becky because Thomas would have had to have dealt with a brand new daughter and his significant other suffering beside him. She took the pull away, he knew he could focus on June while I was being taken care of. 

June was perfect, though. 8lbs, 4oz, 20.5 inches long and healthy. The next morning instead of being transferred to the regular post-partum unit, we were taken to the high risk unit. I got one-on-one attention and wonderful care. There were orders for a blood transfusion but my levels had gone up enough that Dr. Man didn't feel it was necessary. I was also told that there was a chance that I had placenta left in the uterus. We were sent home Thursday evening, two days after Junebug was born.

Over the next four weeks June continued being perfect and I slowly deteriorated. At one week post-partum, I was diagnosed with mastitis, a breast infection. At two weeks post-partum, I underwent an emergency D&C due to retained placenta. The pain from the retained placenta was worse than labor, I cannot even begin to describe the pain. I felt great after the D&C, for one day. At two and a half weeks post-partum, I had a blood transfusion. My iron levels were down to 8 where normal levels are 12 and above. After the transfusion, it was incredible, I was me again. I could stay awake and on my feet more than 5 minutes. However, at 3 weeks, I developed mastitis again - in the other breast. I was at the end of my rope, again.

Today, we're 4 weeks and one day post-partum and I feel like myself. June is a healthy, happy, mellow and precious newborn. We couldn't ask for a better baby. After all of the complications I've faced, she has been the best reward. I would suffer, over and over, for her to be healthy. 

We are so happy!

Centimeters and Dilation

I had decided that I didn't want to get too personal with the inner workings of my vagina but at this point, I've lost what little sense of decency I had so today we're going to discuss my cervix and its' progress!

I've been in early labor for 11 days. What does this mean? Strong, irregular contractions that occasionally find a pattern, like every 3-5 minutes, which makes us think that it's baby time but then they peter out and go back to every 10-15 minutes. These are very different than the Braxton Hicks contractions that I had felt up until about two weeks ago. These hit me like a wave, take my breath away and basically stop me in my tracks. I can feel one coming on because I get really short of breath, nauseous and then get the pain all over my upper belly accompanied by very strong period cramps. The one thing that I was told that I've found helpful in relaxing and getting through the contractions is that it's a familiar pain. Right now they are just very strong period cramps, something I've dealt with since I was 11. I'm sure active labor will be much different but I have to say that I think I'm doing pretty well with this extended early labor process!

The fun part of all of this is that last Wednesday the contractions were every 3 minutes, lasted at least a minute for about 3 hours. I was hesitant to call my doctor because I didn't want to be that false alarm first time mom but when I did finally call the nurse told me to go straight to Labor and Delivery because that sounds like labor. I jumped (well really gingerly stepped, jumping doesn't happen these days) in the shower, waited for Thomas and off we went to L&D. Apparently Wednesday was a super busy baby day because we were confined to a small triage room instead of one of the nice birthing rooms. Luckily we weren't in there long. They hooked me up to the monitoring thing (same one as detailed in this post), June's heart rate was perfect and they were picking up pretty consistent contractions. The nurse checked my cervix and I was so excited to hear that I was dilated to 1 cm and 40% effaced! Being only 36 weeks I hadn't expected any progress. Let's break this down and what it means for labor:

Dilation: Before and during pregnancy the cervix, the entrance to the uterus, is closed. Obviously, this is a good thing. You don't want the baby falling out, things getting up in there, etc. As labor begins, the cervix starts opening little by little. Some women go from completely closed (0cm) to pushing the baby out (you have to be at 10cm for pushing) in a matter of hours. Others can stay at 1 or even to 4cm for weeks. Here's a handy reference guide for cervical dilation.

I'm at a cheerio! C'mon bagel cervix!

Effacement: In addition to the fun part of the cervix opening up, it also has to thin out. Again, during pregnancy the cervix is not only closed but thick - about 4cm long (think of like a bottleneck). So as labor approaches it begins to thin out and it retracts up to the uterus. This aids the dilation. Effacement is described in a percentage number. Here's another handy guide.

I'm at 40%...60% to go!

Back to my L&D story...

After checking me they wanted me to walk around the floor for an hour. Thomas and I found this nice little corner of the L&D floor where the sun was beaming in and warmed me up (the hospital is freezing and those gross, flimsy gowns offer little warmth). I paced back and forth, did some squats, had Thomas massage my back, had continuous contractions and then headed back to our room. They monitored baby for about 20 minutes and made me walk again. I much preferred the walking to laying in a bed and feeling trapped. After another 30 minutes of walking I was checked again. No progress. I was still at 1cm and 40% effacement. The second nurse was a little more rough so it was more uncomfortable and she was not very reassuring of anything. We were sent home because there was nothing to do in the hospital. They couldn't induce me because I was only 36 weeks (I really didn't want that anyway), I wasn't progressing enough for them to keep me and I wanted to labor at home.

So now we're here at 37 weeks, full term, still contracting and bigger than ever. Last appointment with Dr. Man he said he very highly doubts we'll make it to full term because of all of the uterine activity I've had. I'm basically on stand by until she decides to come! Unfortunately, Dr. Man is out of town this week so we're trying to stave off labor until he gets back because I've grown attached to him and also, the longer she's in the womb, the better.

Another fun fact - at 36 weeks Dr. Man estimated she weighs about 6.5lbs and will gain a pound a week until she's born. If we go to our due date and he's correct, she'll weigh well over 9lbs! Yay for big, healthy babies! 

Send me some good luck vibes that Junie is born when she's ready and that she's happy, healthy and done cooking!

Time Flies!

It's been more than "a while" since I posted and I'm not sure why. I keep having these great ideas for posts but I never actually sit down and write them. Perhaps it's the fact that my belly is getting astronomically bigger and is sucking all brain power, or maybe I'm lazy. I happen to believe it's a combination of the two. In any case, I'm going to wing this one and do a little stream of consciousness blogging. 

Let's start from where we left off last time: 32 weeks. I am now currently at the end of 35 weeks, almost to the 36 week mark (Monday). This means a lot of things. I've gained more weight. I'm officially done looking at the scale because it's now over 200 at any given time and I simply can't handle that. Yes, I'm pregnant and carrying a child inside. Yes, I'm almost done. Yes, I will lose a bit after delivery and even more breastfeeding. But being someone who has struggled with weight for as long as I can remember, it's not an easy thing to see the scale move so much higher. I could probably use some therapy for this but we just bought a new car so that's not entirely in the cards at the moment.

New car?! Yes, we bought a new car. It's the first big purchase Thomas and I have put into both of our names and it's terrifying and amazing all at once. We researched, looked tirelessly at AutoTrader, went over our finances a million times and then we finally just went for it. We bought a 2003 Toyota Highlander and it's perfect. I love driving it. It's a little weird to transition from my little sporty v6, stick shift, red Jetta but it feels a heck lot more comfortable and I can actually get in and out in less than 10 minutes. I had very literally gotten stuck in the Jetta recently because of my belly. Awkward and uncomfortable. So now if anyone wants to buy a 1991 Volvo, let us know! It runs great and will last forever but we are looking to get that off of our hands!

So almost 36 weeks...insanity. How did we get this far?! The weirdest part of all of this is that September 5th, a mere week away, we will be full term. After that baby Junebug can make her appearance at any time she wishes and she would be considered a full term newborn. How did I produce a nearly full term newborn? I know how in terms of anatomy and physiology but otherwise, how did this happen? She's still moving around like a wild woman in there and she loves to shove her butt into my right side as far up as possible. My belly looks like a weird mountain terrain when she does that. I can also distinctly feel a knee or foot slooooowly move down my left side at times. It's fun for the most part but sometimes it is downright painful. I think she tries to stretch out and it feels like she's trying to make a break for it through any opening possible. 

This week she started to "drop," a process called lightening (not lightning, like a storm). That basically means that she's started to move her way into my pelvis. The first sign for me was that I could breathe. Seriously, I couldn't not breathe for the life of me for the past 5 or so weeks. She was so far up into my ribs that my lungs had no choice but to just stop working. The next hint was that I could eat. Again, all of those organs are pushed so far up that eating is nearly impossible. Until Wednesday night and I ate an entire 6 inch philly cheesesteak. (Which I could never do, even before this pregnancy!) The third little clue was that now I can barely walk because her head is so far down. It's a whole new phase of baby positioning making mom crazy. It feels like she's trying to come out when I walk so it's a whole lot easier to just stay put.

I'm swelling at an astronomical rate. My feet are pretty gross and I now get indentations from my sandals. It's delightful. I'm sure the heat isn't helping anything even though I'm drinking as much water as I can and keeping my feet propped above my heart when possible. 

All in all, I'm ready. I'm ready to be done. I'm not quite to the point yet of even considering induction even though my doctor did tell me he will induce any time after 37 weeks if he feels it is safe to do so. I just can't see the value in forcing June out before she's ready. I do, however, understand why I have seen so many women choose to induce on their due date. This stuff gets old at the end. But even with the internal fireplace we call Junie, the swelling, the contractions (oh yeah, still having those), the lack of sleep - I can wait. I'll let her decide when she's good and ready to make her debut. I think after nearly 9 months of cooking her, I owe it to her to make sure she's completely done before evicting her. 

Not quite ready for that.

32 Week Check Up.

I really like going to the doctor. I know, I'm crazy but there's something strangely reassuring about getting to talk exclusively about the baby and my other favorite subject, me. I also love the fact that my OB is a solo practitioner so he only has one nurse and one front desk admin. So they know me by name and it feels more intimate and like a little family. 

The only part I don't like about going to the doctor is the scale. Call me a typical female but the scale sucks. I've talked about my feelings of superiority about my previous weight gain and how it bit me in the ass when I gained 8 pounds in 4 weeks at 28 weeks. Well, this week was worse. Last check up was 2 weeks ago and I had gained 2 pounds at 189, right on point. I hate the scale at the office even more because it's one of the older ones where you have to manually move the numbers. Of course it started at 150 and she moved the other part up, and up, and past the usual 30s and into the 40s. It stopped at 44. Add those two numbers together. 194. I gained FIVE POUNDS in TWO WEEKS. How the hell do I keep doing this?! 

I was, yet again, concerned that Dr. Man would be upset with me. He, yet again, wasn't. He said overall my gain of 26 pounds at 32 weeks is perfect and that he's not concerned. I always hear these horror stories of women getting reamed for gaining too much or too little or the wrong way or whatever but Dr. Man is so reassuring. I wish every woman could have the same experience as I have had with him. He is so laid back and calm and always answers my inane questions. His suggestion was to try to fit in a little more activity, even through the pesky contractions and "maybe lay off carbs." His words exactly. He knows me too well...

I had been reading this past week how you can palpate (basically feel) the baby and get a pretty good estimate of the weight and how it's often more accurate than an ultrasound because of all of things ultrasounds don't take into consideration (position of mother, levels of fluid, etc). I asked Dr. Man if he would be up for giving me a rough idea. He grabbed her head, which is down in my pelvis and felt all the way up. Her little knees are in my left side (usually in my ribs) and her butt is wedged in my right side. It was pretty neat how he could totally tell where everything is located. His guesstimate is that she weighs around 4.5 pounds and will most likely gain another 4 pounds before delivery. I had a dream a few weeks ago that Junie weighed 8 pounds, 12 ounces and was 22 inches long so I'm very curious how close my intuition will be! Dr. Man is equally curious now!

I want to draw this on my belly before my next appointment.

I didn't blog about this for some reason but for the past two weeks I've been having a ton of contractions. They're only Braxton Hicks but they landed me in L&D last Monday. Everything was fine, no dilation, no effacement, nothing to be really worried about. Dr. Man did say to limit my activity as my body tolerated. Well, my body hasn't been tolerating any activity. It's still contracting pretty much every time I stand up. They're getting more uncomfortable and frequent. Today he told me to call if I have more than 6 in an hour. So at least now I have a number in mind and anything under that is okay. I asked him if maybe because of all of these contractions preparing my uterus my labor will be a little easier. His reaction: a funny smile and almost snort like laugh, "well, maybe." I'm going to keep telling myself that...

Odds and Ends

Oh my, we've made it to 32 weeks! Or 33 weeks, however you choose to count it. Eight months in and I still don't understand why people count the weeks and months differently. In any case, we've made it!

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I'm getting big. Not that I was small until now but my word, I feel like I've exploded. Some of my maternity tank tops barely cover my belly so my wardrobe has been severely limited. Luckily, I don't get out much so I can get away with throwing on random clothes. I broke down and bought a new pair of shorts that are the exact same as the black ones I wear almost every day. I did go wild and got them in grey so at least they're slightly different. I refuse to buy any more maternity tanks so I'm sticking with my Target long and leans for now. I'm slightly obsessed with them. 

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Along with my clothes starting to shrink on my growing body, the large belly is also killing my back. I had sciatica before baby girl and just kind of dealt with it but when I was around 16 weeks I saw a chiropractor because it was making my left leg numb. That was great but expensive and eventually my back somehow started feeling totally fine. However, this past week my back has flared up again. I'm debating calling the chiropractor again. Not sure if that or a massage would be more helpful. I had a fabulous (and very expensive) prenatal massage at Burke Williams about 2 months ago and that was heaven. Either way, I need some form of relief! Any tips?

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Car shopping is usually a lot of fun. (And when I say usually, keep in mind that I've only owned two cars in my driving career and only shopped for one of those so I actually could be totally wrong.) However, when you're trying to save money and living with your parents and eight months pregnant, it's not quite as joyous. Thomas' car is running but there's no way we could put a baby in it and while my car is pretty okay, we would truly be better off with a new (to us) car to drive with Junebug. I do like the idea of a new car but I would really rather someone just buy us one and drop it off at the house rather than shelling out the money and actually doing work for it. (That was slightly sarcastic, only because I know that's not ever going to happen.) So moms, dads, grandparents, others, what cars do you like? What do you drive?

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My mom is in Hawaii this week celebrating one of her best friend's 50th birthday. She totally deserves this trip and I'm so happy that she gets to spend a week in paradise. But I'm really kind of bored. I'm usually home with her during the day while the daycare kids are here and sometimes we run errands together after they leave. She only left on Saturday so today was the first weekday since she's been gone. I ran two errands today but getting in and out of the hot car and walking and carrying crap and all of that is really not so much fun, especially with said large belly and aching back. 

So this was my Monday: lounged around, watched tv, ran errands, watched more tv, ate lunch, sewed and then watched even more tv. I sewed something that I'm really proud of though! I made a reusable sandwich bag! I used some fabric that we had lying around, found some velcro and only had to buy the food safe nylon lining. It was pretty easy and came out great. I think I'll try another one tomorrow and try to get it even more perfect! I have four more days of being alone during the day and need to find things to do. So if you ever hear me complain about my mom bugging me, remind me how lonely I was while she was gone. (PS I know she'll read this so don't worry, I'm not being mean when I say she bugs me. I bug her too. That's what happens when you live with someone you love and are with them all the time. Trust me.)

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So friends, our count down is starting. Eight weeks until she is officially due but only five weeks until she is "full term." After 37 weeks, it's no holds barred and if she decides to make her debut, she will be allowed to do so. While I totally hope and believe she will make it to 40 weeks (and probably beyond), it's weird to think that she could come before that and be born as early as September 5th. I do think that it would be really cool if she was born on 09/10/11 and she would share a birthday with Thomas' mom (June's Meema). I know Junebug will make a fabulous debut when she decides the time is right. But let's start taking bets, when do YOU think June will make her appearance? I want dates and times, people! GO!

Your motivation is this baby gambling.

My First Baby

I never understood those couples who called their dogs their "babies." I get loving your pets but really, treating them like your children? That seemed a little inane to me. 

And then came Henry.

For our three year anniversary (September 15, 2010) I only asked for one gift. I wanted a dog. My family got our first dog when I was 10 and he died when I was 21. It was the most devastating loss. (No, I've never lost a close family member but I did have 5 friends die within 2 years so I have experienced grief but there's something different about losing an animal, I digress.) We got another dog within a few months that is now my parents fourth child and they spoil him rotten. He's also 100lbs but thinks he's a lap dog.

Now that Thomas and I were on our own, I really wanted a dog that was ours. Not our parents' dogs, but one we cared for together. Thomas agreed that we could look for a dog but was very clear that it would be my dog, not ours. He wanted no part of it. He would go with me, look, pay and then it was my responsibility and my animal - not his. I agreed to this, hoping secretly that he would change his mind and come around to loving the dog like I knew I would. I searched and searched online for dogs at local shelters. I was very adamant about rescuing a dog and not supporting pet stores (and in the long run, puppy mills). After about 2 weeks of searching, I found the perfect Jack Russell Terrier at a shelter about 20 minutes from our house. He was adorable, brown and white, about 10 pounds, and already neutered so that would cut down costs. Thomas agreed to go with me to look at this pup on a warm Sunday in August. We drove there and I told him all the names I was thinking of, the best of which I thought was "Ellis." The pound had named this terrier already but of course we would rename him.

We walked past the kennels of barking and whimpering dogs, all staring at us, pleading to take them home. This part of the process always kills me. I cannot stand seeing dogs caged and sad and alone and hot - it absolutely breaks my soul. We got to the kennel where our precious terrier was and he seemed happy to see us! He barked and jumped, and barked and jumped, and barked, and barked, and barked. I swear he was doing flips and jumping off the walls. He was certainly cute but I looked at Thomas and the look he gave me back was one of trepidation. It would not be fair to keep such a hyper dog in our small apartment. I knew that. We needed a dog that was a little more mellow and laid back. The kennel to the left of my first choice was this small, blond, sad looking puppy. He wasn't barking, wasn't crying, just looking around like he truly hated where he was. We had no idea what breed he was or how old, he hadn't even been named by the pound. Thomas said, "let's see how this one is out of the cage." I could see that this puppy looking business was kind of growing on him. Thomas went to ask the workers if we could take this little guy out and I stood by the kennel to talk to him. He stood up to the gate when I went to pet him and was very affectionate.

The attendant came over and took the little yellow puppy to the fenced area where we could play with him. We went in and he ran straight to Thomas. I got on the floor and tried to play with him but he really took to Thomas. He let me pet him a little but he clearly had his favorite. This little dog never barked, never whined, didn't jump, he was truly a calm and loving little guy. As Thomas pet him, I knew this was the one for us. We talked it over in our little fenced in space and decided this was our adorable pound puppy. Unfortunately because he wasn't neutered yet he had to stay there and get fixed before we could take him home (in CA all animals adopted through shelters must be fixed before they are taken home, a law I completely support). This broke my heart, I hated leaving him behind.

On our way home we texted both sets of parents announcing our new arrival. The pound would call us when he was ready to be picked up. We were on our way to becoming pet parents! We named him Henry (Thomas suggested it and I agreed, he was totally a Henry) and he was our baby.

The first picture of our baby.

Over the next few months, he really truly became our baby. He was our constant companion and we took him everywhere. He slept in our bed, usually right between us or between our legs. He still is our baby, except now we're going to have a human baby. 

Yesterday Thomas took a "Daddy Boot Camp" and they advised them to start paying less attention to pets so that they don't blame the baby when it arrives. It makes sense, we will have less time to be with Henry and we don't want him to see June as competition. However, it still makes me cry when I think about it. He was our first, our trial run.

But starting soon we will make him sleep downstairs rather than with us. He'll be fine, I know but I love our morning puppy cuddles, the routine Thomas and I have for letting him out and the way he lays under the covers with us. 

My little baby boy is growing up. 

And I'm officially one of those weird dog moms.

How could you not love this snaggle tooth face?