How to Conceive a Baby--This is So Long Maybe I Should Just Write a Book

My baby was unplanned. I did not count my ovulation days, take my temperature every six hours, or schedule sex. In fact our awareness of him began as a sort of "oh shit" moment (the kind you've seen a thousand times in movies), which quickly gave way to a "this is okay, this is cool; let's run with it" mentality. I don't pretend to believe that all babies begin that way though. Many new mothers-to-be (or potential mothers-to-be) are horrified, whereas others are euphoric. I wasn't horrified, but I did cry for a few minutes when the double pink line appeared on my pee stick. This blog is for all those who would be euphoric.

I'm not sure what's inspired me to write this. A lot of babies have come into my reality as of late. A lot of desire for babies, on top of that! Maybe it's just my reality, like I say, because I happen to have a baby. But maybe birth control has actually become uncool, what with the hippest pill around, Yaz, being near the top of the list of Pharmaceuticals Nearly Guaranteed to Kill You. It seems like having babies is actually cool again, even for young people. I mean, I'm 23, and I just heard the good word that a couple of my closest friends from Back Home are expecting their first. They're my age and totally blissed out about it (if the poor girl weren't so nauseated all the time. Oh the joys of the first trimester.) The point is, people want to have kids, and they want to teach them kindness and sign language and raise 'em right. Sounds good to me.

At the same time I've also been thinking about a cousin of mine who is desperately trying to conceive and has been for at least a couple of years. We're not close--I haven't seen or spoken to her in years--and although it's likely we share no spiritual or social values, I empathize with her. There is a kindred feminine energy there that wants for her to have as many children as she can possibly handle. But I get this feeling, and I guess it's a little more than a feeling but not quite fact, that she harbors anger and resentment toward anyone that has children when she does not. "If I can't have 'em, nobody can!" sort of thing. While I can certainly understand how easily those emotions can rear their ugly heads at a time when you are feeling impatient at meeting disappointment month after month, I believe there really is something to be said for one's attitude about the whole process.

First off, I'm going to let you in on a little secret: I did not get pregnant the first time I had sex (thank Goddess), and I was not using birth control when I did conceive. In fact, we engaged in unprotected, irresponsible sex for almost a year before little Sage graced us with his presence. So if you've been trying for three months and are about to visit a fertility doctor, give it more time. Even if you've been trying for two years, give it more time and maybe try a few of my recommendations before undergoing invasive procedures and allowing yourself to be told your uterus is "hostile" or any other such nonsense. Yes, I'm thinking of "Grey's Anatomy" here. Poor dark and twisty Meredith with her inhospitable environment.

Now I'm no medical expert, and I am in no way guaranteeing anything, but the following suggestions are more holistic and perhaps a bit more fun than taking your temperature every morning and scheduling the love makin' for exactly 3:15pm on Tuesday, the 4th. If you are having difficulties getting pregnant, those steps can be vital to success, but I hope to throw a bit of humanity back into this process that often, sadly, turns out to be a passionless chore.

Keep in mind that in conjunction with everything described here, there is a vast wealth of more clinical and credible holistic approaches to fertility, such as acupuncture, energy work, yoga, and herbs, as I will briefly touch on. You can find all the information you want on these methods with a simple Google.

1. Creating Positive Vibrations: Give Thanks and Give Joy
This may sound like one of those hippy dippy things, but stepping back, being grateful and producing positive vibrations is hugely important. When you celebrate the fact that babies still are coming into the world (did you see "Children of Men"?), even if not yet by way of you, then you are giving off a positive vibration. And it's kind of common knowledge that babies really like positive vibes. The trick is to get your vibration to attract and match that of a soul wandering around in the cosmos, looking for a new mother. (I'm realizing that maybe my advice won't fall so softly on the ears/eyes of some religious folk who do not believe souls live more than one life or that everything is vibration. In effect this probably would not help my cousin much. But if you dig it so far, please continue.) For example, let's say your friend Jenny tells you ecstatically that she is pregnant and due in August. If you, who are feeling disappointed and angry that you're not pregnant yet, tell her congratulations but then go on to bad mouth her behind her back ("that slut probably doesn't even know who the father is"), you are actually giving off a negative vibration, one which stresses your body and turns little baby souls off from coming in.

Try empathizing with your friend/sister/co-worker/cousin; take on her joy. Feel what that excitement feels like. Revel in it. The more joy you actually experience, the more positive vibrations you will produce.

2. Visualization
Once you've started feeling what actively producing positive vibration feels like, visualization follows very quickly behind. I'm going to explain this step simply because there are hundreds and thousands of materials on visualization out there, especially now, and it all works in the same fundamental way. Create in your mind what it is you desire. Imagine the baby you so dearly want, see his/her face, feel his smooth skin, see his nursery, his clothes hanging in the closet, your partner's face as you wonder at each other in amazement. See your own pregnant body, feel your rounded belly. Basically, daydream about your baby. This is probably the part of the process that is the most fun. (Sorry, guys, but it's true. That's a whole other can of worms.)

The power of visualization is vast and largely ignored in our scientific world. We were all brought up to believe daydreaming is a "waste of time" when it couldn't be further from the truth. This is how we figure out what it is we truly want in life and bring it into being, by painting pictures in our heads. There must be a blueprint of a house before there can be a house, right? The bottom line is our thoughts are very powerful and actually do in many ways create the world we are experiencing. If you're not convinced, I encourage you to explore the world of visualization further through reading and your own practice.

3. Attract Goddess Energy
Stay with me, it's not as bad as you think. By "goddess energy" I simply mean all that represents the female, and particularly the Mother aspect of existence, aka the Divine Feminine. If you have a male archetype God, then we must have a Goddess, yes? Yin and yang, black and white, god and goddess. As two sides of the same coin, these opposite aspects make up All That Is.

Whew, okay, now that we've got that straight, it only makes sense that you would want the Divine Mother's support as you aspire to take on the most female process there is: the bearing of a child and becoming a mother yourself. (If you believe God created Man in his image, and you've seen how that's manifested in your husband/partner concerning "girly things" like your menstrual cycle, then I can only assume you must believe the male side of God won't know jack about this whole pregnancy business.)

You don't have to dance naked around a fire on the full moon singing praises to Diana or Gaia (though that can't hurt); there are fairly "normal" things you can do to attract and focus goddess energy in your life:
a) Garden--Just as your womb is a fertile ground waiting to nourish a child, so the earth incubates seeds and guides our crops into maturation. Mother Nature, Mother Earth, they don't just call it that for no reason. Plant an herb garden, get some houseplants, and just nurture the hell out of 'em. By connecting with the natural processes of the earth, you are connecting with the Divine Feminine. You want that connection. (Hey, if you can take care of houseplants, you can have a baby. My son is healthy as a horse, but I can't seem to keep a damn fern alive. Go figure.)

b) Herbs--There are at least several dozen herbs I am aware of that support reproductive health. Two that seem to come up quite a lot are Red Raspberry Leaf and Nettle Leaf, though I am not an herbalist (yet), and I don't purport to know how to advise anyone on employing them. I am happy to say that plant medicine is powerful, and because of this, using herbs in any form is a responsibility you must be knowledgeable about beforehand. Use at your own discretion and if possible, under the advisement of an experienced herbalist.

c) Scents, Colors, and Ritual--Smell is one of our strongest senses, if not the strongest. It is the most closely tied to memory and emotion. It is safe to assume that scent is a powerful tool in attracting (or dispelling) energies to/from us (I certainly dispelled those damn roaches with the strong odor of bay leaves and clove!). Same goes for color. Colors are not to be explained away with abstract scientific jargon. Whether it's a simple concept to you or not, colors are vibration. Incenses and colored candles are used in rituals all over the world, including your local Catholic church, in order to bring awareness to the spiritual work at hand and welcome the energies of certain gods/goddesses. I know "ritual" can be a scary word, one that evokes thoughts of human sacrifice and witch doctors, but ritual has a very wide spectrum of possibilities. It can be as intricate as a tribal sacrifice or as simple as you sitting in front of a burning candle, visualizing your future baby.

There are countless variations on what I've suggested here: you can draw inspiration from the hundreds of forms of fertility and motherhood represented throughout every culture, and the visions you can create with your own mind are limitless. This is a very powerful thing, but that power only helps you if you believe in it. Focus on something you believe in. When you actually believe that what you are doing is beneficial to you, you are successfully creating positive vibration and are far more likely to achieve the desired result.

4. Nutrition
I am 1000% supportive of holistic nutrition, but I know babies don't only come about by way of women who eat quinoa and kale all day. I don't believe you have to give up alcohol if you want to conceive either. I was eating ramen noodles and going to the bar three nights a week the first few weeks of my pregnancy (I was confusing that pregnant hungover feeling with the real hungover feeling), and I'm sure you've heard of a crackhead or two with at least four kids. But eating well certainly cannot hurt your chances of conceiving. I'm sure there are plenty of what one might call "old wives' tales" about the particular foods that help, and you're free to look those up, but I am a strong advocate that the key to holistic eating is a Whole Diet. Whole foods, of course, and lots of them, but also anything else you want (Triple Chocolate Chunk ice cream, Cheetos, hamburgers, beer), though not nearly so often. If you're not a health nut and don't get super excited about vegetables, believe that there really are so many ways to make healthy eating delicious. But balance is the key. Have a big bowl of ice cream once a week, and get drunk with your friends one Friday a month (or with your partner--babies have been known to be created that way!). That should keep you somewhat sane and relieve the pressure of trying to get pregnant.

I have given you a lot of suggestions and an overwhelming amount of information, much of it of a spiritual nature, I know. It's not exactly characteristic of me. But I feel strongly that in lieu of the highly specialized, expensive, often physically and emotionally painful non-holistic approach to fertility the medical world presents, there must be a simpler alternative to the vast universe that is conception.

*I celebrate you, dear reader, and I acknowledge the Divine Feminine that resides in you. May it bless you with as many beautiful children as you can dream!*

In the Home Stretch at 34 Weeks!

It feels like I've been pregnant forever! Well, three months shy of a year is kind of a long time to harbor a growing, mobile parasite. Beautiful, exquisite, miraculous parasite of course, but I think technically a parasite nonetheless! I haven't written in over a week, but it seems like things have begun to exponentially speed up. Thanks to Mom and Peter, the nursery just came together in like two days. They brought home a crib, dresser, rug, crib set, and lamp. Then Mike and I assembled the bassinet, and voilà, suddenly we have a baby room. It's like watching time-lapse footage on those home improvement shows. Mom had bought me some diaper covers and the like already, but we went out together to get a few more items. Whereas I had almost nothing besides clothes a few days ago, now I have almost everything we're going to need to begin this thing.

I've exploded in size just in the last three days I think--we snapped a few pictures the other night, and I was shocked at how big I am. Unless the camera adds 50 pounds?! I've only gained 22, but it must be all in my belly because a friend of ours commented that it looks like I'm carrying more than one! Maybe it's a case of not noticing when your appearance or those you see every day changes because you're too close. But when you take a step back, WHOA!

Mike and I saw my midwife yesterday, and things couldn't be better. I'm gaining perfectly (22 lbs., not bad!), he's just the right size, and he is indeed pointed head down, ready to slide on out. Hold on one more month, Baby! We finally got a tour of two of the three birthing rooms upstairs; someone was in the third. Hopefully we get to see it next week (I'm going for weekly appointments now), as everyone says that is the biggest and best room. It has the most space and the largest jacuzzi tub. All three rooms have tubs, but in the smallest one you cannot actually birth in the tub, only labor. I'm just counting on being the only one having a baby at the time, so I get free reign!

My sleep is still quite satisfying; last Sunday was the only night I had a hard time dozing off. I'm sure that was just because we were going to buy our new car Monday morning, and I had a list of annoying things to do before leaving town at 9am. I was slightly stressed about keeping it all organized. But everything worked out perfectly, we do have our new (used) car, and once again my sleep is peaceful and sound. For the last two nights I've even woken up (to pee for the third or fourth time, of course that hasn't changed) on my back, comfortable and breathing easily. This is new. I guess it differs from day to day; sometimes I can lie on my back for as long as I want, and other times I immediately get to huffing and puffing if I even attempt it!

On Tuesday I went to another On the Ball Conditioning class at the MamasMove Center, the place where Mike and I are taking HypnoBirthing classes starting next week. It was better than the first class; the routine was varied from the first, which we can all appreciate. I wondered if it would be more or less challenging because I grow so much in just a week's time now, but I think it was about the same, if not slightly less. Baby and I made an agreement on the way there that I wouldn't push him too hard if he didn't push me too hard, and it worked out great. It was still challenging, in a good way, but I didn't feel like the goon I had been last week. Some of the instructor's modifications were better suited to my needs, but sometimes not. The leg work is great and leaves me sore for days afterward. I'm happy to notice the muscles I haven't been pushing over the last eight months. Since I'm doing all this naturally of course, I'm going to need the strength!

Okay well I am sick of sitting down, so I'm going to pop on over to Target in search of pants that fit and a yoga/birth ball. Next time I'll tell you what I think of MTV's "16 and Pregnant"...

Love!

The Rise and Fall of Preggo Stardust

This morning I arose at the crack of 8:45 to catch a 9:30 On the Ball Conditioning class at MamasMove, the pregnancy/new mom-centered hub for fitness and baby education classes. It's where I'll be taking my HypnoBirthing classes in a couple weeks. I walked in, grabbed a yoga ball, and waited for class to start. I was expecting hardly anyone to be there, but apparently these women do not work on Tuesday mornings (who am I to talk?). It was packed! I plopped down on the ball and couldn't help but notice the conversations which buzzed around me: naptimes, hyper kids, more naptimes. I swear the naptime conversation went on for 10 minutes, and then continued when class ended. They were all in their mid-30s, or at least looked it; I felt a little out of place.

Class was an hour long, but it could have been two. It kicked my ass! Eight months of no aerobic activity has really done a number on me. I've been keeping up with my 15 minutes of daily gentle yoga and Pilates, but that's really chicken shit compared to all the hip raises and ball lifting and Tae Bo inspired sequences we did. My months with Billy Blanks might as well have never happened. About halfway through I no longer recognized myself as the dancer I once was, and I became a total tard--a red-faced, shaking, unbalanced tard. The instructor gave modifications, but in some cases they were more challenging than the original movements, just directed away from the abs. When it was over though, I felt great. Slightly weak in the thighs, but with a sense of physical accomplishment I haven't felt at all since I've been pregnant!

In fact my endorphins were pumping so copiously that I called my mom at work on the way home to tell her fighting is painful, and she not only 100% agreed but said she'd been thinking of me right as I called. For the next few minutes we eerily finished each other's sentences, as we were thinking the exact same thoughts, and agreed to talk civilly tonight. I don't know what happened between us, but hopefully it can be put away for a good long while.

So life was great until I went to the grocery store! I brought a WIC check, thinking this will be a piece of cake. I've been wary because lately every time I've used a WIC check, at least one item gets rejected. But I've gotten all of this cereal, bread, and peanut butter before, they can't possibly turn it away. They all fall under the guidelines of acceptable items. Wrong! It gets stricter every fucking time I use a check! I got two boxes of Honey Bunches of Oats cereal, which is fine, but not the 'Pecan Bunches.' So I switched it with almonds. Whatever. I couldn't get the bread, Arnold 100% Whole Wheat with Ancient Grains, because there are too many whole grains! Are they kidding me?! Not only is the brand acceptable, but it clearly says 100% Whole Wheat on the front. I thought that was the only guideline. But no. It is so particular, there can be no other grains mixed in with the wheat. As if wheat is even good for you! It's not! I had to get a different brand that's purely Whole Wheat (and sugar, and brown sugar, and maltodextrin, and gluten, and lecithin...), with nothing of any real value like quinoa, barley, millet, and flax (she offered me Wonder Bread--now are you really kidding me??!). And last but not least, I couldn't get the peanut butter I usually get, All Natural with Flaxseed, because it has flaxseeds. Too fucking healthy for WIC. I told the cashier and manager that I was told explicitly there are no restrictions on peanut butter--I could even get "all natural"-- as long as it's not organic (which itself is shitty, but I understand it's political bigotry hard at work). The manager tried to tell me all natural means organic, and I crisply informed her otherwise. All natural is a marketing ploy, not a scientific fact. The flaxseeds though, Jesus Christ. Flaxseeds are one of the richest sources of omega-3 fatty acids, which are detrimental to healthy fetal brain development among many things, and how many Americans really get their daily dose of this invaluable nutrient? A sad, sad percentage I'm sure. I am so frustrated with the WIC program, it's like I dread going to the store and using it because I am not only forced to get food that is significantly less nutritious than what I want, but it's humiliating to hold up the line over a loaf of bread. If their aim is to provide pregnant women with nutrition, then they should take a goddamn nutrition class and learn what it is. You won't find it in Wonder Bread and Vanilla Bunches.

Everywhere I look I see illusion and complacent, backwards faces.

Hyped About Hypnobirthing!

I'm whittling away the time until I really have to get back to work. The project I'm currently working on involves writing descriptions of literally thousands of Italian tourist attractions. Do you know how many churches there are in Italy?? It's insane, but it keeps me busy and I am so grateful for the abundance of purpose, knowledge, and money I get out of it! No doubt I know more useless Italian trivia than you do. Go ahead. Challenge me.

Other than that, since breakfast I've been cleaning, arranging, basically controlling every little thing I can until whoever-the-hell-is-painting-the-nursery gets it done so I can start doing really productive things. I desperately want to work on the nursery, but I have to wait while Peter takes his sweet time deciding to paint. He primed the woodwork over a week ago. Hello, nesting here, kind of anxious and obnoxiously energetic. On a cheerier note, Mike just cleaned the toilet! Woo-hoo! He's such a good daddy.

It was strongly suggested to me at my last prenatal appointment to sign up for childbirth education classes. This reminded me that I'd like to try Hypnobirthing, the method of deep relaxation, breathing and meditation techniques designed to release all fear associated with childbirth. This often ensures an easier, sometimes painless birth experience. It involves a sort of self-hypnosis, but that just means a state of intense focus and awareness. I looked up local Hypnobirthing classes, but they are hella expensive, so I ordered a book off eBay for $7. I don't necessarily want to go to a regular childbirth class and be told what's going to happen. I want to experience what happens and respond instinctively and consciously in the moment. The main point is that I'm not scared of birth at all; I understand that this is one of the most natural things to happen to me, and my body will take care of it. On the other hand, the one fear that pops up when I say that is that I'm completely wrong and it will be a disaster. But then I remind myself that if that possibility should transpire, I will not be disappointed in myself for not having the "perfect birth." I will not fear what Mike or my mom or my midwife think if everything doesn't go according to "plan." My birth will happen however it is going to happen, and I will be eternally grateful for it. I repeat that to myself, and there is absolutely no more fear. Guidance is helpful, but I don't need to spend over $200 to be inundated with someone else's idea of my birth. I'm into preparing with meditation and visualization techniques that simply help me remain calm and let go.

What else, what else...oh, I'm trying out coconut oil as deodorant. I don't know if it was a coincidence, but yesterday as I was slathering myself post-shower I got some oil in the ol' pits, and I didn't stink the rest of the day or even this morning. So I slathered a bit more on today after my shower, and I'm excited to see how the experiment goes. I know virgin coco oil is antibacterial, so why wouldn't it work? Also, it's soothing to those freshly-shaved pits as opposed to harsh deodorants and antiperspirants. I am so glad to have unrefined coconut oil back in my life after living a futile existence with refined oil for a couple weeks. Now I use what's left of the refined to cook with and the virgin stuff on my skin and hair. I'll let you know how the deodorant test turns out!

Peace out and in.

And the fet(us) goes on...

So I'm getting into the home stretch here of my gestational period, and I figured you might be interested in what's going on!

I'll be 31 weeks on Monday, and I'm feeling pretty great. I've had an incredible amount of energy lately, my eating habits are surprisingly under control, and I'm getting surreal twinges of superexcitement at the thought of our little one's arrival. It seems like I've been pregnant forever, and it's hard to even imagine him actually being here, outside of me. I've had a couple disturbing dreams about him being born with acne and this really gross yarny-wire-curl across his forehead, oh and in one I gave birth to puppies, but other than that fear doesn't ever really pop up. I'm delightfully present.

As far as food goes, I have yet to have any "weird" cravings you always hear about. Maybe that comes later? Whatever I must have in any given moment is either fruit or vegetable: I've been purchasing cantaloupes for the last couple weeks--I never bought cantaloupe in my life! I never even liked it much! I've been blessed to have picked flawlessly ripe ones at the store though. Yay. If you're wondering how to pick a ripe cantaloupe (cuz I didn't), feel ones that are slightly soft and have a bit of a melon smell. It doesn't matter that the rind is still green, apparently. I made the wonderful decision to get hummus the other day too, which I've been practically drinking the last two days. I'd been wanting a pita roll with hummus and kalamata olives (à la Angeli's in New Orleans), but since I didn't want to buy pita and olives, I went with just the hummus. Joseph's Red Pepper hummus. Party size. Holla. Last night I threw down five huge romaine lettuce leaves, ripped into small pieces, and rolled em up with the hummus, a slice of celery, and sometimes a square of Monterey Jack cheese. OMG worthy. I'd finished off the last few bites of a slice of some crazy flavor cheesecake Allison had brought home for me the other night, but I was feeling kinda icky after it, and the fresh veggie snack alleviated the quease of the sugar and dairy immediately.

I have pretty much the same breakfast every morning (or afternoon): scrambled eggs w/ black pepper and Cajun seasoning on whole grain toast, spread with a layer of peanut butter, sour cream, salsa, and then topped with the eggs. Sometimes a leaf of lettuce. Mike thinks the peanut butter with all that is disgusting, but it's fucking delicious, and I get extra protein and omega-3s (my peanut butter has flaxseeds in it). I might eat a snack a couple hours later, but sometimes I have no appetite again until dinner. When that happens I tend to overdo it at dinner, and I easily get too full which has more severe consequences in pregnancy than it does normally. Now that my uterus is so far up in my belly, if my stomach expands too much it all squeezes together and presses on my lungs and my ribs, which is quite uncomfortable. It's difficult to sit down unless my back is totally straight because there's just no room for everything! And my breathing becomes impaired for an hour or so, which sucks. Overeating is more than just gas and underwear cutting off your circulation when you're pregnant!

But on another note, there's been absolutely no swelling, and really no apparent weight gain in any other part of my body but my belly! To me it's kind of weird looking, like I'm actually holding a basketball under my shirt. But for that I am thankful it will probably be rather easy to get the baby weight off when the time comes. Buuut, I do have two months left to go, and it's around this time that I should be gaining something like a pound a week. Fun.

And then there's the skin and hair. I slather myself with coconut oil every day after my shower, and it's effectively kept my skin from ripping (much). I have a couple unfortunate pink spots, but I am certain those showed up when I ran out of coconut oil for a week and had to use cocoa butter. They say cocoa butter is the anti-stretch mark savior, but I think it just totally screwed me. My hair feels great though! They say prenatal vitamins make your hair and nails really nice, but I wasn't noticing a damn difference until I started doing coconut oil treatments every other day. I comb a big dollop of coco oil into my hair and leave it in for an hour or so. Then I shampoo it out, no conditioner, and voilà, beautiful shiny hair. I've been doing it for about three weeks, and I'm noticing a vast improvement in the quality and texture. My hair was so damaged from way too much Hawaiian sun and generally not caring about it because I thought it was a lost cause. But I have a renewed sense of hope that I can not only have softer hair than ever before, but I can grow more of it too.

I've been keeping up with my exercises a few times a week. I sit typing over the computer all day with my writing, and it fucking kills my back. I desperately need a good professional massage, but until I can afford that, I just stretch it out. I still do Pilates leg exercises and a bit of gentle yoga to get things moving, not to mention all the neverending housework! Other than that I'm not hitting the gym or even powerwalking, but what I do feels good enough. No need to overdo it.

So I guess that's it for now. I'll give you more juicy details as things get more juicy. Love.

Sunday Morning Madness and Stillness

Well, it's a grey Sunday morning, and the Christmas spirit is winding down. So far I have avoided the post-Christmas depression as I've been occupying my mind with my new Ayurveda book and cute clothes. However, I know when my sister Kim gets on her flight back to Florida tomorrow, it will really be over, and then what will I do with myself? Well, I do have this baby still growing in my belly, and at this point it's fun to begin visualizing my birth and other decisions regarding his ultimate well-being. Only three more months!

I woke up to a quiet downstairs apartment around 10:30 and listened in to the noisy upstairs. I'm not allowed up there until this afternoon because today is my baby shower! Mom, Peter, and Kim are hard at work up there preparing for the festivities, All That Is bless 'em! Allison's just peeled herself out of bed and the bathroom to join them shortly. Mike's still sleeping (silly wabbit stays up much too late!), so I took to my crisp new cerulean blue yoga mat and did a few exercises I hadn't done in far too many days. The cat-cow yoga stretch is one of the best for a preggo, and indeed it does feel amazing. I feel it stretch and make room in my belly for the baby as well as strengthen my back and elongate my neck. Yummy tummy. I hear it's great during labor.

I moved on to my old Pilates leg routine, the usual thing: leg raises, bicycles, circles, as well as a little move I made up myself that reeeeally squeezes that saddlebag area. Want me to explain it to you? Great! So you're lying on your side, one hip raised and stacked over the other as with your other leg exercises, and you just pivot that hip up and down. Turn the knee up, knee to the side, squeeze the knee up, gently squeeze to the side, squeeze up, to the side. If my body were an artist's rendition of itself, that hard-to-work outer flank would be sweating, and there'd be some scientific-looking circles sketched around the leg, back and forth. I've experimented with the breathing a little bit with this move, and I usually just breathe normally because the movement is rather quick. Though feel free to play with it, slow it down, and correspond the breath to the movement if you like.

I continued my routine with a series of slow, relaxing breaths (did you read my last post?) and quickly became inspired to research the Lamaze breathing technique. I'd had this perception that Lamaze went hand-in-hand with a medicalized, hospital birth, a breath that wasn't particularly conscious but more so a hopeless attempt to simply ease the pain of labor. I've come to learn that that is not--or was not--the original design behind it. Dr. Ferdinand Lamaze outlined the labor breath specifically for the assistance in natural births, to avoid the need for pain medication. I never really connected with the "hee hee hoo" when I saw it being futilely performed in movies where sweating, writhing, laboring women only attempt it for mere seconds at the comic behest of their anxious (and completely terrified) male partners. The atmosphere is always chaotic, and the mother never gets a snowball's chance in Hell of relaxing and delivering her baby naturally. Well, I need to learn that the media does not ever show an accurate depiction of the pregnancy or birth process, and as a real pregnant woman, I must consciously set aside those misconceptions and take everything from the ground up (a routine hospital birth being the first I shunned!). The rapid "hee hee hoo" is really a conscious method of delivering more oxygen to the blood than your everyday involuntary breath, which reminds me of the Breath of Fire from the Kundalini Yoga practice. When partnered with three other types of relaxing breaths to be employed between contractions, the "hee hee hoo" is apparently quite effective in managing contraction pain. It is not to be mistaken as an attempt to eliminate the pain of childbirth, but rather a method of effectively withstanding the natural pain, which is an all-encompassing rite of passage, and focusing on the most important part of labor, which is relaxation. When you relax, the baby relaxes, and your body delivers him much more easily.

So I don't know if I'm going to seek out a Lamaze class or if I'll simply listen to my body as it happens. I'm not new to breathing exercises, and I understand the power of the breath, so either way I know I'll be just fine. I trust my body will tell me if it could use a "hee hee hoo" or something else.

Oh gawwwd, then my mind wandered on over to circumcision. This is a topic neither Mike nor I had definitely said one way or another we had decided on. In my gut I knew it was not necessary and indeed quite traumatic for the infant. The foreskin does have a biological purpose, including protecting the sensitive head and keeping out infection. But I was also considering the idea that it is such a socially expected aesthetic procedure, and also I'd want him to look like his father (he's cut). But the aesthetic aspect of it was the only reason I could come up with in support of this (disgusting!) custom. I watched two videos of live circumcisions on infants, and I am totally horrified. It's not like on TV (once again, that misleading media) where the doctor (or rabbi) stands over him, snips real quick, and it's done. No, it's over five minutes of terror and screaming with no mollification from either parent. It involves clamps and scissors and scalpels, and at the end the little head of the penis is bloody and exposed in an unnatural way, like a layer of skin has literally been ripped off, and that just ain't right! There are multiple risks to the operation, including infection. Ummmm, no thanks. I hope our son thanks us too when we show him what could have been!

So that's my day so far. Now everybody is upstairs getting ready for the shower, so I'd better get ready and take a shower. I stink!

Much love, y'all

Just Say No to OBs!

I attended my first (and it's safe to say only) OB appointment on Friday, in my 16th week of pregnancy. I say only because it was an un--scratch that--believably unpleasant experience! Well, I can't necessarily say it was negative as far as hospitals go, as I did get in and out without contracting any staph infections or chronic pain, but it was definitely less positive than my alarming pregnancy test four months ago!

I show up ten minutes early, as ya do, though that makes no difference as I am the second one in the waiting room and the fifth one out. Whatever. Hospitals are like that. Moving on. Next, my weight and height are measured, and I am pleasantly surprised to find I've gained less weight so far than I thought, which is not a bad thing at this point.

I am then shuffled into the exam room to be asked the usual questions about any lingering filthy habits by the nurse. After I confirm that I have given up those habits (but replaced them with tastier vices like Dairy Queen and Oreos, though I don't tell her this because who cares about diet in a hospital?), she leaves me and says the nurse practitioner is going to talk to me before I get undressed and go through all the motions.

I shall call her Jane (or shall I?), and she walks in, sits down, introduces herself and asks how I'm doing in that usual 'how are you' sort of way. She never looks at me or offers her sanitary hand, which I find immediately disconcerting. We go through a similar list of questions the previous nurse asked, and then she leaves me to get undressed. I put the hospital gown on, laugh wholeheartedly in the mirror and putz around the office until she returns, by which time I am six months pregnant. I mean, you just cannot leave a pregnant woman waiting that long in a one-sided outfit with no access to a bathroom.

The PAP proceeds as usual, which I am grateful for because I haven't had one in over two years, and it goes rather quickly. We then prepare to listen to the heartbeat...oh weird! She procures the Doppler listener thing, which is handheld, squeezes the hot gel on my byelly, which is a lot warmer than I'd anticipated, and we take a listen. For the first fifteen seconds or so all I hear is outer space noise, and then (gasp)...there it is. Wroosh wroosh wroompsh wroompsh. Then we lost it and found it again on the other side of my melon-sized uterus. Wroosh wroosh wroosh wroosh. Gone again. I thought 'oh, an athlete! Oh no, not a softball chick...' but then I thought of what my potential midwife suggested to me about ultrasounds, that babies seem to move away from the heat, which is evidently fairly unpleasant to uber-sensitive fetuses (feti?). It seems that the Doppler device and ultrasounds are fairly similar instruments, though I pushed it out of my mind to enjoy the extremely new and eye-opening experience because it's early enough for me to maintain a bit of selfishness.

After that weird sort of instinctual joy Jane tops off the appointment with a delightful lecture on the risks of Down Syndrome, Spina Bifida, and my very specific time frame to get the not-always-accurate screening test for these and other chromosomal abnormalities. The lovely visit wouldn't be complete without filling this first time mom-to-be who's never even had a cavity with loaded warnings of sneaky and deforming genetic mutations. Ahhhhh yes.

I know this is all what she's required to tell me, medically, but not once during this visit does she ask me how I'm actually feeling, other than a single query into the caliber of my long-gone nausea. She never even asks if I have any questions or offers any positive insight into my extremely normal yet all-encompassing transformative experience of becoming a mother. The few questions I do ask seems to annoy her, as if the only things I need to know are what she tells me.

In recent years I have really moved away from considering the hospital or standard American medical caregiver as any sort of pillar of support (apologies to both my parents in the medical field) so I had no real expectations that my OB appointment would support any of the emotional or spiritual needs I have during this time, which is exactly why I am hiring a midwife. But for all the millions of women whose prenatal care is solely invested in appointments just like this, I'm surprised at how many babies and mothers make it past the first few months! I can't imagine how terrifying it would be to have any problems that would be considered "high-risk"!

I believe unless there is a legitimate medical or environmental reason to contain a birth or even most of the prenatal care to a hospital, then there really is no reason for that to be the standard for one of the most natural and common human processes. I could go on about my growing interest in midwifery and home birth, but it's 1am, and I will undoubtedly rattle on about this later when I am more eloquent and conscious.

The point here is that I left my first prenatal appointment feeling almost angry that I had been so powerless in that situation. This is my body, my baby, who is doing a lot more work than even I can comprehend, not a clinical procedure that can only be navigated by a stranger with a medical degree.

I admit there is a time and a place for the OB/GYN department, and I am grateful it is there when it is needed, but it is irresponsible to designate this treatment as The Way It's Supposed To Be. Not for me!