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?

Stretching

I thought I was going to be one of the lucky ones. I thought because my weight gain had been slow and steady (save for that last 8 pounds) that I would avoid the permanent reminders of this pregnancy.

I was wrong.

For those of you who have yet to experience the joys of your changing body through pregnancy, here's a fun note: After a certain time in the pregnancy there are certain things you can no longer see on your own body. Everyone loves talking about how you can't see your feet but forget to mention that after a while, you can't see anything past the top of your belly. This includes your lady bits as well as the underside of your belly.

I've been diligent in applying cocoa butter emollient to my body and often do this after the shower. This is the perfect time to look in the mirror and examine the belly that I can no longer see. Last week I noticed some dark blemishes along the lovely linea nigra (fancy word for that bizarre dark line that some pregnant women get from the pubic bone to above the belly button) that has formed along my stomach. I thought I was bruised. I asked Thomas to look at it that night, he had no clue what it was. These two blemishes didn't hurt but I could feel a little divot in both. I nearly forgot about them, mostly because I couldn't see them (I'm a out of sight, out of mind kind of girl I guess).

This morning my mom and I went to the pool and I noticed her scoping out these odd blemishes. I told her my latest theory, it was from my muscles separating, something that I had read about. She delicately said, "I think those are stretch marks."

NO. NO. NO. No, I do not have stretch marks. I had made it to almost 31 weeks with no such markings and I was not going to accept this now. After a long look in the mirror and examining every part of my burgeoning belly it was clear - those two dark blemishes are stretch marks. While performing this exam on myself I noticed another, very similar blemish by my belly button. I showed my mom and sure enough, she agreed, it was another one.

I have 3 stretch marks. I went from 0 to 3. (I'll save you from pictures, for now. Mainly because I can't take them of myself, they're that precariously placed on my belly.) I can't say that I'm surprised though, my brother and sister and I really beat my poor mom's skin up and they say the biggest factor in skin elasticity is genetics. Not even my slathering of cocoa butter could save me. Any tips from other stretchy mommas out there? Did yours look better or worse when baby debuted?

Fashionista

These past few days I've been doing very little but sitting on the couch and reading blogs like Sometimes Sweet and Dear Baby Blog. These two mommy bloggers are funny, savvy and fashionable. The last of those has gotten me thinking about my own style. Do I even have a style? Pre-pregnancy my "go-to" look was jeans, t-shirt and usually a sweatshirt. I was still in college so I really had little time to sit and think about my clothing options while I was running from class to class then to interviews for journalism projects plus maintaining some semblance of a romance with Thomas (apparently that worked) and driving to LA twice a week (100 miles round trip) for my beloved internship. The only days I truly thought about my clothes were when I would go to my internship because there was always a chance that I would end up meeting a celebrity or on some TV set and needed to look like I belonged there. 

At one point in life, I really did like clothes and put a lot of thought into my overall appearance. Unfortunately, this was in jr. high and early high school and my style was eclectic, to say the least. I fell in love with vintage clothing and spent what little money I had on fantastic vintage dresses, blouses and skirts. I also experimented with my hair and I'm surprised I still have any left. It went through every color of the rainbow, sometimes all in one day. My parents were very understanding of my style, they let me dye my hair and wear what suited me without ever criticizing me (at least to my face). At one point, in 9th grade, I wore a large cake-topper type 50's prom dress to school (with purple high top Converse, of course) and they never batted an eye. 

My BFF Amanda and I before I left for a trip to Oklahoma the summer between 9th and 10th grade. I'm on the left in a vintage 40's skirt and my grandpa's old sweater. And my hair is teal. I traveled in style, clearly.

Shortly after this summer my style changed. I became even more involved in theater and for some reason that meant I started wearing overalls, a lot. I'm still not sure why that was my uniform for the time but it was. It was also not very much in style. 

I'm the girl in the picture...(second from left)

The rest of high school I wore jeans and t-shirts or costumes. I was involved in every theater production from 9th grade to 12th grade so I spent my school days in jeans and comfortable clothing. My style did not change much from then to college. Jeans, t-shirts and either sandals (my constant companions - Rainbows) or tennis shoes. 

I don't know why I lost that "flair" for fashion. It may have been out of the box but I truly loved what I was wearing and felt like myself. I've blamed a lot of my lack of style on lack of time but now that I have more time, I wear the same thing most days. My uniform as of the last few months have been shorts and tank tops. Yes, I'm pregnant and it's hot but I do have other choices. 

A few weeks ago I made three skirts specifically for my growing belly. I've worn one of them, one time. I don't know why but I felt silly wearing them. (This could be a whole blog on my neurosis but we won't go there.) I was feeling adventurous last night. I wore one of my homemade skirts. It was cute! I felt girly and somewhat stylish. I'm making a promise to myself to try to break out of my rut and make myself feel better about how my changing body looks. I love my belly and I want to show it off in cute ways. Wish me luck!

Thomas and I before celebrating my pass on the gestational diabetes test. The skirt is a seersucker fabric and adorable, if I do say so myself!