All of a sudden many people around me are about to have their babies.  I’ve heard so much about how excited Andrea is, and how Caroline can’t wait to meet her son right away, and on and on.

I’m so happy for all these expecting friends, but I can’t help but feel just a little sad for myself.  Why?

Because I feel like I missed out on that initial bond & feeling the excitement of meeting my son for the first time.

Don’t get me wrong – I was way ready to have Monkey & meet him & I thought that I had an accurate idea of what to expect of being a mom.  But when my water broke, I cried because I was scared.  Driving to the hospital I tried to keep myself calm & fight back my scared tears that seemed to really want to roll down my face.

My fear of what was about to happen & the big change in my life took precedence over my excitement.  And while I’m sure that’s quite normal, I feel really sad about it.

Sad that I didn’t treasure those initial moments with Monkey because I can never go back and retrieve them.  I wish that I was one of those new moms who were drunk on those first moments with my son.  Like experiencing such a high & a rush of a new love that I’ve never known.

If you remember, I was completely out of it just two hours after Monkey’s arrival into this world.  He spent his first night of life in the nursery & I spent my first hours of being a mom passed out in my hospital bed.  Not exactly the way to do it.  When I woke up that next morning I couldn’t wait for my son to be delivered to me, but I felt overwhelmed.

Overwhelmed at breastfeeding, overwhelmed at the nurses coming in, overwhelmed at my phone ringing, overwhelmed at visitors, overwhelmed that I was responsible for this human being, overwhelmed at changing his diaper, overwhelmed at listening to him crying, and the list goes on.

Obviously those overwhelming moments rose above having any feelings about being a mom.  I waited 9 months to meet my little guy, but I wasn’t exactly enjoying it.  It was all too scary for me.

Obviously I’m there now and I know that I should just be thankful that I’m finally experiencing what I should have felt in the beginning, but I do find my mind drifting to those first few days of Monkey’s life.  And it makes it hard when I’m around expectant moms & they ask me how amazing those first moments with Monkey were.

I kind of lie about it because I don’t want to scare an expectant mom.  I don’t want to take any of the excitement & anticipation away from them.

One of my friends is actually in labor at the hospital right now.  I’m so excited & thrilled for them beyond words, but I just can’t help but wonder why I wasn’t like this when my own son was born.  How I wish that I could go back in time & change my emotions, but I am really hopeful for the future because I think it’ll be so different the next time around.

And really, my little Monkey gets all the love he needs from me right now.  He’s my best friend & has made my life so complete in a way that I never knew could be.  Most importantly, he doesn’t remember his first few hours of life… all he knows is his life now & my abundant love for him that grows each day.  And that’s all that he needs.

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Things are finally starting to settle down and I think the postpartum baby blues have completely left my body now.  It feels nice to be on my computer again since little Monkey is sleeping.  I know that I’m supposed to sleep when he does, but I can’t grasp napping during the day just yet.  (Maybe I’m just not tired enough?!)

I wish things weren’t so crazy when we first got home because I would have loved to blog about how I was feeling.  I’ll try my best to recap my feelings for you now, but I feel completely different now, which is such a good thing!

I couldn’t wait to be discharged from the hospital last Saturday.  I was ready to go!  It was an exciting time to have Tarzan pack up the car and for me and Monkey to be wheeled down to meet him at the car.  It was also a scary time, like “Oh my gosh, this is it.  They are letting us go home with this baby.  How will we know what to do?”

I gave Tarzan the honors of putting Monkey in his car seat and I sat in the back with him while we embarked on the drive home.  It wasn’t too eventful and Tarzan and I talked about how crazy it was to be leaving with a baby.  Just two days prior we were just “Jane and Tarzan, party of two” and now we were “Jane, Tarzan, Monkey, party of three”.

We were parents all of a sudden.  It wasn’t just about the two of us anymore.  We arrived at the hospital being a twosome and we were leaving as parents.  So crazy mixed with a lot of scary and a little uneasiness.

Once we got home, Tarzan and Monkey stayed in the car and I went inside to greet our dog.  I know I’m a mom to a baby now, but I am also a mom to our dog too.  It’s so important for both Tarzan and myself that we don’t forget about our dog during this process.  I greeted our dog, let him sniff a blanket that Monkey was wrapped in, played with him, and gave him lots of love (and treats too!).

Then I went back into the car to stay with Monkey while Tarzan came in the house to do the same thing with our dog. Once he came to the car, he got Monkey out of the car seat and I got our dog. I was hoping that he would be okay with the baby, but sadly he wanted nothing to do with him.

He’s the type of dog that doesn’t seem to welcome change at all, so I’m sure bringing home this new baby (who was crying at the time) just sent shivers down his spine. He wasn’t aggressive towards him or anything, just keeping his distance.

Once we all made it in the house Monkey was screaming his head off (so hungry from the drive home), Tarzan was trying to bring in all of our bags from the car, I was holding Monkey and wanting to cry myself, and then our dog threw up. Poor thing. I guess it was too much “excitement” for him and his nerves got the best of him.

After trying to balance out the mess that was now our life, we sat down and tried to calm down Monkey. This is about the time that I wanted to run away.  Hello postpartum blues.

It’s a strange feeling really. On one hand I was ecstatic to be a mom to a perfect and healthy little boy. I was happy to be home with my new family. I was thrilled to see our dog. But on the other hand, I was terrified. I had so many doubts about this new life.

Even though I was pregnant for 9 months, it still wasn’t enough time to fully prepare for just how much my life was going to change. Sure, at the end of my pregnancy, I was telling everyone that I was ready and couldn’t wait to meet my little man… and that was true, but I hadn’t fully grasped what motherhood meant.

And I guess I couldn’t know what it was like to be a mother since I wasn’t one yet. It’s one of those things that you have to experience for yourself to fully know what it is like. It’s just like the advice I got from everyone while pregnant: “Enjoy this time with your husband because it won’t be the same after the baby is here. Nap when you can. Go out to eat often. Go to the movies.”

So many people told me that but I never understood that life would be so drastically different. Now I wish I would have taken y’alls advice a little more seriously because I was missing alone time with my husband after giving birth. It was still great and wonderful between us, but the reality of the fact that it wasn’t just “us” anymore sent me into tears many, many times.

It’s the biggest change of our lives and that doesn’t come easy at all. It takes time to adjust. It takes time to try to get in the swing of things so that you don’t feel like you are completely failing at being a mother. It takes so many emotions out of you too. You are on a high at times, feeling so good, like you just got this mothering thing down… and then your baby cries and you can’t figure out why and you begin to fall apart.  You feel inadequate.

It’s all part of postpartum blues.  Who knew that you could feel like a big loser at what’s supposed to be the happiest times of your life?  It’s hard to swallow, that’s for sure.

There were times that I would just look into Monkey’s eyes and cry. He would be sound asleep on me, but the tears wouldn’t stop. I felt like a bad mom here too. There are so many people that struggle with getting pregnant or there are complications with their little one at birth. Here I was with a perfectly healthy pregnancy and newborn and something inside of me felt off.

I could look down at his sleeping so angelic, but yet have tears that my life was not like I knew it to be previously. Not that I regret him because that’s the furtherest thing from the truth. I love him so much and I didn’t know I was capable of that much love. It’s just a hard balance initially; trying to fix all the pregnancy hormones and emotions running wild while loving and taking care of this little precious angel.

But I digress.  Back to the rest of the night…

We got Monkey to calm down by putting him on my chest. We were laying on the couch together. Tarzan was putting together the swing (lifesaver!) and we were waiting for my mom to arrive. When she came over she brought Carrabas for dinner and things were still calm. We tried putting Monkey in his pack n’ play so we could eat.

I took one bite of bread and he started to cry. I started to cry too. Tarzan comforted me and my mom told me to eat – She was going to take care of the little Monkey. I told them that this was too much. Our life was too different. I wasn’t ready for this. How would we ever eat dinner together again?

This is all new territory for me because I’m not usually afraid of change. I’ve picked up and moved around randomly and like that I’m not fearful of change. But when it comes to my whole life changing over the matter of a night, it’s different and gets to me. Now I was responsible for this little being and that’s a lot of pressure. What if I fail and suck at being a mom? So many what if’s were running through my mind, hence all of the many tears.

Even though tons of tears were streaming from my face, I could look at my little boy and smile and know deep down (really deep down) that things were going to be all right in time. We all just needed to adjust.

I got some sleep that night and I felt better the next day. It’s amazing what sleep deprivation will make you feel like and it’s equally amazing what getting some sleep will do for you too. I felt like I was ready to conquer this motherhood thing. Like I was capable of doing it now. Not gonna lie, it was a nice feeling.

But short-lived.

I got tired again. I wasn’t really eating – When was there time? And what appetite was I feeding because I surely wasn’t hungry at all. And water consumption? Forget about it.

When I was pregnant I drank so much water. Shoot, even before I was pregnant me and water were friends. I would pick water over Coke, tea, and anything else. But with a baby I’m finding it’s hard to even shower. There’s always a million things to do and sometimes I forget to take care of myself. (Proud to say that I’ve showered everyday though.)

Monday night was rough too. My mom was making dinner in the kitchen, I just fed Monkey, and Tarzan suggested I take a bath. After all, I love baths. I wasn’t too excited about taking a bath, but I gave in. I ran the bath water, climbed in the bathtub, and began to cry.

At first it was only tears, but that turned in to full-blown bawling. Alone. In the bathtub.  Not a good combination.

Next thing I knew Tarzan was in the bathroom asking me what was wrong. I just told him that everything was changing too fast. We, the couple that did everything together, would no longer be. We, the couple who prided ourselves on not having a schedule or daily routine, would now have to follow some sort of a schedule for the sake of our new child. We, the couple that slept in daily until we were ready to wake up, would have to follow a baby’s schedule.  And I went on and on.

All trivial things really, but it scared the crap out of me. When I was pregnant I was so scared of losing myself in the process. I never wanted to be that girl who only talked about strollers and baby poop.  Now that I have a baby I became scared of what my daily life would be like.

Of course my wonderful husband sat on the edge of the tub, stroking my arm and telling me that everything would be just fine.  He said that he read some information on postpartum blues and that these feelings should pass soon.  He said that all of these feelings I was having were normal and part of postpartum blues after having a baby.  He told me that he was so proud of me and that I was already such a great mom to our little boy.  He said that we would get in the swing of things and having a routine wouldn’t be so bad.   He even went as far to say that it would be good for us.

After crying for at least 30 minutes, I decided that it wasn’t the best time to be alone in the bathtub.  It was only making me feel worse because I was forced to think about how everything changed.  And then there’s our dog too…

He wouldn’t even come near me.  Tarzan picked him up and I leaned over to give him a kiss and got nothing.  This made me cry even more & say that I thought he hated me.  I’m sure this whole process has to be weird and hard for a dog, especially our dog because he was our only baby for the past 6 years.  Tarzan told me not to take it personal; our dog would come around soon enough.  It would just take some time.

That night really sticks out to me as the worst of the worst for my postpartum blues.

I just felt completely inexperienced and completely incapable of taking care of our baby… and that’s such an awful feeling when you are a new mom.  I even told Tarzan that I didn’t feel very motherly at all.  I didn’t really talk to the baby and I certainly didn’t sing to him.  I would try so hard to comfort Monkey but I was a mess myself.  It turned into a disaster that would always end with more crying.  And that’s incredibly depressing when you can’t really see the light at the end of the tunnel.

What’s also really depressing and has nothing to do with postpartum blues is the fact that I started to leak everywhere.  Everywhere, I tell you!  No one told me that my vagina would bleed off and on for 6 weeks after labor and delivery.  I had no idea.  It’s such a process to go to the bathroom:  Pee, cleanse myself with warm water, put a pad on my panties, put Tucks pads on, put epifoam on Tucks pads, pat myself dry, spray something on my vagina, pull up pants, and wash hands.  It’s exhausting!

Aside from leaking down there, my boobs started to leak.  I woke up one morning to find my shirt and nursing bra completely wet.  Ever since then, you can rest assure that I don’t forget to wear my nursing pads anymore!  My mouth also leaks.  Apparently pregnancy made me start drooling and it hasn’t stopped now that I have a baby.  And my body sweats at night.  No idea why because I’m not really hot.

So not being able to see the baby situation getting better, paired with leaking everywhere, I was not too excited about this chapter of my life.

Tuesday night my mom left.  Consider it bad timing to have the baby when I did because my parent’s house that they were building was finished and it was time for them to close on it.  We were on our own on Tuesday night, Wednesday night, and Thursday night and it was tough.  I didn’t get so emotional about it because I knew that my mom would be coming back; I just wasn’t exactly sure when that would be.

Tuesday night was awful for us.  Monkey was really fussy and it seemed that there was nothing we could do to calm him.  Again, I just cried and Tarzan looked like he wanted to.  It’s pretty damn frustrating when you change the diaper, feed him, burp him, comfort him, rock him, and nothing seems to calm him down.  We were up off and on all night long and we both had a look like “What did we get ourselves into?” on our faces.

Wednesday night was better.  Tarzan told me to take a nap since we didn’t get much sleep the night before and I did.  When I first woke up, my first thought was, “Oh, this is still my reality.”  And then I buried my head back under my pillow.  It’s like I was hoping to wake up and have my old life back in a sense.  Not for one second did I wish my son wasn’t here, I just longed for how easy my life was before he joined us.  It’s so hard to put into words just how I was feeling…

I got a lot of sleep that night and Tarzan took care of Monkey while I slept.  Sleep is an amazing pick-me-up, I’ve learned.  This was always the night that everything seemed to change for the better.

While Tarzan was taking care of Monkey he figured something out.  I had told him previously that I thought we were missing Monkey’s hunger cues because I read that crying is the last one.  Tarzan decided to wake up Monkey every 3-4 hours so that he wasn’t so frantic when he woke up screaming on his own.  This worked all night for Tarzan and for me when I took over so T. could sleep.

Then things started to get a little easier for us.  We were still without my mom, but we were handling things at home and doing a pretty good job with minimal tears coming from me.  It was a nice change.  We woke up, fed Monkey, put him down for a nap, and then had breakfast together.  I even commented to Tarzan about how nice it was and how it was just like our “old” life.  It’s amazing what things I probably took for granted between the two of us prior to Monkey being here.  I didn’t really entirely just how precious everyday things were, like running errands together or eating breakfast together.

Tarzan and I would comment over the next few days how proud of ourselves we were that we were in control of everything without my mom.  We said what a good team we are and would “bump” our fists and then burst into laughter.  I felt a little more like myself with every day that passed and I felt a little more confidence build up inside of me when it came to taking care of our son too.

It was nice.  Very, very nice.  And I felt like the postpartum blues were slipping further and further away from my body.  My hormones were starting to balance out once again and I was feeling like I was capable of taking care of my new, little family.

My mom came back on Friday night and she fed Monkey while Tarzan and I slept.  I’d been pumping so there was enough breastmilk for her to feed him at night while I skipped one feeding to sleep.  (I was told this was okay to do and my sanity depended on it.)

My postpartum baby blues were diminishing with each day and I was feeling more in control and like I could actually handle my life.  I will admit that I was scared of how the postpartum blues were making me feel.  I never had any death thoughts for myself or my son like what might happen with postpartum depression, just so you know.  It was more a feeling of being extremely incapable and just downright scared about this huge new change.  And what a big change it is!

I was chatting with one of my best friends on instant messenger briefly one day while I was in the midst of feeling the postpartum blues.  Not a good idea.

The whole time I was pregnant I was telling her that she should get pregnant too.  She was not onboard with that at all.  This particular day on instant messenger she asked how things were and how I was doing.  I told her that she should definitely wait to have kids until she is ready because it’s a huge adjustment.  I told her that it was hard work and that I was scared.  Then Monkey started to cry and I had to go.

When I talked to her a couple of days ago she told me that I sounded better and more positive about everything.  She said that I worried her when we last talked because it wasn’t like me to say to wait until she was ready.  I was always so gung ho on her having kids with me and suddenly I wasn’t that way anymore.  I told her that I was having a rough time, but I still thought she would wait until she’s ready.  Duh.

My mom just left yesterday for good.  I cried.  Even though I’m feeling better about everything, I know that I’m a good mom to Monkey, and I know that I have a good partner in Tarzan, it’s a little scary once again.  My mom didn’t do much baby stuff with Monkey while she was here.  She helped us at night so we could sleep better and she cooked dinner, did laundry, the dishes, etc, but we took care of him during the day.

She reminded me of this when I was crying.  She said that I knew what I was doing and I was such a good mom to Monkey already.  She knew that we would be okay without her.  And deep down I know she’s right.  There was just something so comforting about knowing that she was here.  Another pair of hands was really helpful and just to hear her thoughts was helpful too.  She’s raised kids before and we’re still alive and doing well so she did something right!

I know that she would have stayed longer if I asked her to, but I also knew it was time to not be selfish either.  I’m sure she was really excited to spend a night in her new house and unpack things like she wanted to do.  It would be so nice to have my mom here with us to always help out, but I also know that Tarzan and I will do okay without her.  It’s time to grow up some more and be parents… on our own.

We are a little family now and it’s time to step up to the plate and take care of things.  I’m sure that I’ll never sleep as well as I did before Monkey was here, but I wouldn’t trade seeing him look up at me and smile for any amount of sleep in the world.  He’s so precious to me already and I’m going to do all that I can to be the very best mom to him ever.

He deserves all the love in the world and no matter how inexperienced we might be right now, our hearts are overflowing with love for this little guy and experience doesn’t matter.  That will come in time and our love will just keep on growing stronger and stronger with each day that passes.

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Finally, I found time to blog about my full labor and delivery story!  It all started after a night trying to induce labor that was full of sex, sitting on the birthing ball, and eating pizza with pepperoni and pineapple.

Later that night, Tarzan and I fell asleep on the couch and love seat in the living room.

At 2 am I woke up to go to the bathroom and there was nothing unusual about that.  I woke up again at 4 am to find my panties soaked and a circle of wetness that leaked onto the shorts I was wearing.

Hmm… Could this have meant that my water broke? I wasn’t sure.

I first noticed that it was a clear liquid, so no green there.  (Yay!)  I took a whiff to see if it smelled like urine and it didn’t.  There was actually no smell to it.  At this point, I was thinking that all signs were leading to the fact that my water had broke.

Naturally I woke up my husband and told him what had happened.  Being that it was 4 am, he asked me, “Are you sure that you didn’t just pee your pants?”  I guess it was a fair question, but being that I regularly do not pee in my pants, I told him that I was sure this was something else.

I showed him the leak and then asked him to smell the damage too.  (You know I didn’t want it to seem like I was making up crazy things in my head.)  He smelled the shorts and agreed that there was no urine smell.

“Should I call my OB now or should we wait until 5 am so she can sleep a bit longer?”  Tarzan told me to call her right away, so I did.  It’s funny how everything just goes right out the window like that.  I mean, I clearly knew that I should call the OB, but my mind went completely stupid in my thinking.

I called the emergency number and was connected to someone who asked me my name and what was going on.  I explained that I thought my water had broken.  She told me to hold for a minute and then I was greeted by my sweet OB’s voice saying, “Good morning, Jane.  You think your water has broken?”

After I told her what had happened, she told me to go to the hospital.  I told Tarzan that we needed to go to the hospital & he asked if he had time to shower.  I told him that he did and then I just stood there completely frozen.  He asked me why I was just standing there instead of getting ready & I told him that I didn’t know.  Then I started to cry.  It was at this exact moment that I lost it.

He asked me what was wrong and I told him that I wasn’t sure we were ready for all of this:  Our life changing right then & there.  It was (and still is a bit) scary.  He told me that we were ready & we could handle it.  Then he told me to finish packing the last minute stuff and he was going to shower.

I didn’t stop to think about how our life was about to change anymore; I just followed what he said and packed.  About an hour and a half later, we were ready to walk out the door.  Oh. My. Gosh.

Labor At Pregnancy Week 40 Had Started!

At this point I was having contractions and was in pain.  The “contractions” that I thought I was having a couple days earlier were nothing compared to these.  Those must have been Braxton-Hicks contractions instead.  (And it has to be said that everyone is right – You will just know when the contractions are the real thing.  I promise.)

Tarzan and I decided to hop on the HOV lane so that we wouldn’t have to deal with morning traffic in Houston.  Boy was that not the best plan.  There was one car ahead of us that was entering the HOV lane & of course they weren’t even going the speed limit.  I think they were driving at 50 mph at the most.  So frustrating, especially if you are my husband and you are trying to get your pregnant wife to the hospital in time.

He flashed his high beams & kept the hazards on hoping that the car would pull over and let us past them.  They didn’t.  It’s like they didn’t get that there could have been some kind of emergency going on behind them.

We made it to the hospital around 6:15 am and went to check in with labor and delivery.  We were brought into the labor room and I was told to change into the hospital gown and socks and pee in a little cup.  I put on my Hot Mama Gown and started to pee.  I was completely shocked to see blood in the toilet and on the toilet paper when I wiped.  I did not expect that.  Of course I freaked out and asked the nurse, who told me that it was completely normal & nothing to worry about.  Whew.

When we got to the hospital it was around the time when the shift ends, so there were three different nurses that talked to us.  Tarzan and I just sat on the couch in the room and hung out throughout my contractions.  When my nurse finally came in to introduce herself to us, I didn’t like her.  At all.  She had no personality and this worried me.  Also at this point in time I had no idea that she was my private nurse, meaning that I was her only patient and she was in the room with us the whole time.  (We’ll call her “Lily”.)

Lily told me to lay down for a minute so that she could get my blood pressure, stats, and baby’s heart rate.  My blood pressure was 104/66 and baby’s heart rate was in the 150′s.  I was at a -3 station (ugh) and 2 cm dilated.  I for sure thought that I would have better stats after the contractions I was feeling.

She put a belt-like thing across my belly to monitor the contractions and one to monitor the baby’s heart rate.  I immediately asked her to turn the baby’s heart rate down so that I couldn’t hear it as much.  Even though nothing was wrong with his heart rate, it just overwhelmed me to think about hearing it go down or for something to be wrong.  She turned it down, complete with giving me a funny look.  Whatever, nurse.

My OB stopped by prior to going to her office around 8 am.  I said, “What do you know about this Lily because I don’t like her“.  She said, “She is strange, but really good at what she does.  Just give her a chance and you’ll be in good hands because she is just down to business.”  OK fine.

My OB said that she wanted to start some pitocin if I was okay with that because my contractions were “worthless” at the moment.  My OB makes me laugh and that’s why I like her.  ”Worthless”… what a way to describe them, right?!

I agreed and she told me that the pitocin would speed things up, so whenever it felt like too much pain I could get the epidural.  I told her that I was worried about getting it so early because I didn’t want it to wear off.  She assured me that it wouldn’t.

I struggled with the whole getting-the-epidural thing.  I felt like I wanted to be so strong and bear out the contractions, but they hurt.  Really bad.  And yes, I am a big baby when it comes to pain.  I had tears in my eyes, but was fighting the urge to give in to the epidural this early on.

Tarzan, my OB, and I talked about it.  One of them said, “It’s not like you get an award for seeing how long you can wait.  If you are in pain, make yourself comfortable.”

Then it dawned on me…  If I was hurting, why would I want to feel the pain?  I have said all along that I wanted the epidural & I knew that no one was going to give me a gold star for waiting it out.

I made the decision to go ahead and get the epidural.

The pitocin was started around 9:15 am and the anesthesiologist came in at 9:45 am.  Honestly the contractions hadn’t gotten that much worse at this point in time, but nonetheless, I was still in pain and definitely not comfortable.

The anesthesiologist explained the whole process to me and then he gave me the initial shot to numb everything.  OUCH!

Of course I jerked my back upright from the relaxed position it was supposed to be in and he told me to just relaxed.  As soon I realized that I was still able to move back into the relaxed position I was happy because this meant that I was not paralyzed.

(Dumb, I know, but my biggest fear was that I would jerk back and the needle would go somewhere in my spine & paralyze me.)

After that initial shot, it was smooth sailing from that point on.  The anesthesiologist told me that he was finished and I was surprised.  The whole process maybe took 2-3 minutes tops.  If you are worried about the epidural like I was, don’t be.  Just be calm and you will be just fine.

At first my feet were numb and tingling.  I hate, hate, hate when my legs fall asleep and this happens.  I just kept on thinking “Oh no, I’m going to feel like this for the rest of the day“.  I couldn’t really feel anything from my butt down and I didn’t like that too much either.

After an hour or so went by I had feeling again & didn’t feel any tingling.  I was able to move my legs and lift my butt off the table.  I was so glad that the epidural took away the pain, but still let me have semi-normal feeling in the lower half of my body.

Lily told me that she was going to help “turn” me into different positions about every 2 hours and I told her that it sounded like I was a chicken being cooked.  Not the best joke, but the lady didn’t even crack a smile.  Okaaay.  This was also the time that I learned she was my private nurse and would be with me until the little babe arrived.

How did I find out this information?  I asked her why she was always in the room with us.  She explained that she was there for me, blah, blah, blah.  My initial thoughts about this were not good, but I didn’t focus on that.  I wasn’t going to let some nurse with no personality ruin my son’s birth day.

By this time my parents had arrived at the hospital.  You would have never known that I was in labor.  All four of us were sitting around talking and just hanging out.  I was munching on ice chips and we were laughing.  It was a great experience for all!

My OB came by around 2 pm to see how things were going.  She checked me and I was at 4 cm and -1 station.  Lily said that she didn’t think that I would be having the baby anytime soon and that was a bummer to hear, but I took her comment with a grain of salt.  I mean, really, she was only making a guess and I was hoping that she was wrong!

My OB said that my contractions still weren’t getting any better and that she wanted to insert a something that would slide by the baby’s head and monitor my contractions from the inside.  I asked her if there was any chance that this tube could go around my baby’s neck and choke him and she said no.  Then she showed me the actual thing that would be inserted and it was tiny.  No big deal.

(And to the few people that said that the tube is inserted into the baby’s head – You are wrong.  Perhaps there is some other contraption that can be inserted into the baby’s head, but I assure you that this is not what happened in this case.  The tube was next to his head in the tiny area, but nothing, and I repeat, nothing, was inserted, screwed, or whatever word you chose into my baby’s head.)

Anyways, I agreed to this and felt nothing when inserted.  This made the “mountains” more mountain-like when measuring my contractions and that was the goal.  Lily & my OB were able to monitor the contractions a lot better and I continued to wait and wait.

After I received the epidural earlier Lily inserted a catheter in me.  Man, that epidural really works because, again, I felt nothing.  The craziest part about having the epidural was that I couldn’t even feel when I was peeing, but Tarzan assured me that the bag was full of urine.  So crazy.

Around 3:30 pm I started to feel my contractions.  I tried to breathe through them like I was taught, but these were painful.  This is about the time that I started to cry because of the pain.  I had a patient-controlled epidural button that I could press two times per hour, but had never taken advantage of it.  I was seriously considering pressing that damn button at this time.  The pain was awful and I wanted relief.

When I started to feel the pain from the contractions, the weather turned really cloudy, dark, and rainy too.  Of course that meant nothing, but was cool considering I hadn’t seen any rain in a LONG time here in Houston.  After trying to brave out the pain for a few contractions (like every couple of minutes), I opted to press the button.  In a short time I felt relief and was grateful.  Oh so grateful!

(While I didn’t know it at the time, this would be the only time that I felt pain during my labor and delivery experience.  Not too bad if you ask me!)

While feeling the pain from those contractions, I thought of the movie “The Business of Being Born”.  After seeing it I felt like I might be open to trying out the next time around.  It seemed really empowering to be able to go through labor and delivery without any drugs.  And we’ve all heard of the infamous birth orgasms that some have when going natural…

Well I assure you that the next time I am pregnant, I will be opting for the epidural once again.  I think it’s so completely awesome and amazing for those ladies who decide to have a natural birth, but there is no way that I could do it.  And quite honestly, there is no way that I would even want to try it.  I cannot imagine experiencing the amount of pain that is known as childbirth naturally.  Again though, props to all of those who are able to wrap their mind around the natural birthing experience and enjoy it!  You are awesome and stronger than I am.

Back to my birth story experience…

Labor And Delivery: The True Stories Of Pushing

After feeling relief from the contractions, there was more sitting around and talking.  Twittering too!  My mom, Tarzan, and myself were all on our phones at one time and my dad made a comment about it.  I was glad that Tarzan was twittering everything because I think it’s so cool.  Many of you have followed us from the beginning, so it only seemed natural to twitter about my labor and delivery.  Plus, what a relief and a great distraction for my husband when he needed one!

Around 5:20 pm my OB came back in to check on my progress.  At this time I was seriously hoping for some progress and my goal was to be at least 6 cm dilated.  I was crossing my fingers and hoping!

You can imagine how surprised I was to find out that I was 10cm dilated, 100% effaced, and +3 station.  It was time to push and this was the real deal.  Ahhh!  Lily cleared the room of all people except Tarzan and began to get ready.

Thankfully everything was about to happen so quickly so I didn’t have time to start thinking things through.  My OB said that she was going to run to her office and grab her things and she’d be right back.  Lily taught me how to push.  She said that her and Tarzan would each hold a leg during a contraction and that she would count down from 10 to 1 while I pushed.

I will admit that after a few “practice” pushes, I finally got the hang of pushing.  I had to take a deep breathe in and then push.  I was a little slow initially getting the hang out it, but then it became natural.

I officially started pushing at 5:28 pm.  While I was pushing Lily had my right leg and Tarzan had my left leg.  I had a washcloth on my head because I was feeling nauseous and my OB… wait for it…

was knitting. LOL.

She was sitting on the couch and cheering me on, all while knitting.  Tarzan and I got such a good laugh out of this, by the way!

She said that they could start seeing the head and Tarzan was like “Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh.”  She asked me if I wanted a mirror to be brought in to see what was happening and for some extra motivation for good pushes.  I agreed.

Suddenly a mirror appeared and I was mesmerized.  It was the coolest looking thing ever.  Who would have thought that seeing a stretched out vag with a little head poking out would be so cool?!

I was able to see just a little white poke through after each push.  It was like one step forward, two steps back with each push, but really cool to see.

Here’s the time when I grew to like Lily.  She may not have had the best personality, but she wasn’t there to be my best friend either.  She was good at what she was doing and that was worth more than having any kind of a personality earlier in the day.

She would say, “Here’s another contraction.  Bear down, bear down, push, push, push, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.”  I liked her because she was really helping me and the fact that she lacked a personality went right out the window.  She was good at her job and at motivating me and that’s what mattered the most!

After a few times of her talking and counting through my pushes I informed her that she was, in fact, cheating.  Lily was cheating with my counting!  With all of her talking, there was no way that she should have started counting with a “6″.  She would talk for more than four seconds and that meant that I was pushing for a lot longer than ten seconds.  I actually got a laugh from her; Lily was coming around!

Finally around 6:30 pm, my OB said that our baby would be born after just another couple of pushes.  At this point that was music to my ears.  I was ready to be done with pushing and ready to meet my baby boy.

I will also admit right now that pushing is a lot harder than I ever thought.  It really takes a lot out of you and just when you feel like giving up, your cheering squad convinces you that you are thisclose and to try just one more time.  You naturally give in because you have to – You have a bowling ball appearing out of your vagina and there is no sucking it back up and making it disappear.

For real.

At 6:37 pm our little man came into the world.

During that last push I remember Tarzan holding my left leg, kissing my forehead, and saying, “Oh my gosh, Oh my gosh” and he had tears in his eyes.  I had tears in my eyes.

We both knew, without saying a word, that our life changed at that moment in time, that it would never be the same.  We saw our little boy being born and were both filled of excitement and massive amounts of love for this little being.

Hearing my husband being so vulnerable at that moment is my favorite memory of the day.  I saw him in a different light; as a dad now full of love for his wife that just birthed their baby and for his new son that would grow to be his best buddy in the whole world (well, besides me, of course. LOL).

Our son was placed on my chest right after he was born and I think I was supposed to help wipe him off, but I just stroked his foot.  And cried.  A lot.  After 9 months of growing him and wondering what he would look like, it was my reality now.  I wanted to take in everything and totally be in this moment.  He was so perfect, even though he was full of fluids and other things.  I fell in love with him immediately.

Tarzan cut his umbilical cord shortly after and then our baby was taken to a table in the room to be weighed and get his APGAR score.  He weighed 7 lb, 12 oz, and was 20.25 in long.  His APGAR was a nine.  He really was so perfect and alert.  He was brought back to me so that I could breastfeed him.

After a short time of breastfeeding, I felt really nauseous.  Lily had ordered me dinner so that I would have something and I ate a few pieces of fruit (which reminded me of Tarzan’s baby sizes not compared to a fruit guide for Dads) and a turkey sandwich.  I gave the baby to Tarzan and threw up everything I had just eaten.

At this time I had another nurse that was “in charge” of me.  She asked me if I wanted some medicine for nausea and I told her that I did.  I didn’t think to ask her what she was going to give me or the side effects of said medicine.  She put said medicine in my IV and the rest of the night was hazy.

I was so sleepy and was just about knocked out.  When I would wake up, I wondered what was wrong with me – Could I really be this tired from pushing?  It didn’t seem right, but I figured that it had to be what was wrong.

I woke up in another hospital room, the one that would be our room for the next couple of nights.  The room where I got to enjoy meal after meal of the hospital food – which wasn’t too bad actually.

I remember the nurse pulling the tape off of my back from the epidural (ow!) and then she had to fix the tubing on my IV.  She was pulling tape off left and right and oh so slowly and was obviously not being too careful since I seemed out of it.  I know that I shocked her when I yelled (yes, yelled), “Can you just pull it off fast?  By going slow you are hurting me!”

I remember Tarzan saying something about where he was supposed to sleep.  Of course I don’t have a clue what the “couch” looked like, but I knew that my husband wasn’t happy with the situation.  He asked the nurse if there was any other option available and she didn’t say anything.  Then, jokingly, he said, “Can you just bring me lots of pillows and blankets and I’ll sleep on the floor?”

The nurse didn’t catch on to his joke and said that she would.  He told her he was clearly kidding.  I fell back asleep.

I woke up in another room alone.  No flowers.  No bags.  No baby.  No husband.  Nothing looking familiar.  It was scary, to say the very least.

After a few minutes had passed Tarzan walked into the room.  I asked him what was going on.  Where was everything?  Where were we? Where was our baby? I was so very confused.

He told me that the nurse told him that there was another room available with two beds in it, one for him and one for me.  It was a smaller room, but at least he could have a bed.  He told the nurse that we would take that room, but asked if she would wait to move me so he could go downstairs and get some food before the cafeteria closed.

Apparently she told him that she would wait, but didn’t actually follow through with her word, hence moving me to another room without him.  And after learning that I went to sleep for the night.

When I woke up the next morning I felt like I had a good night’s sleep, but didn’t know why our baby wasn’t with us in the room.  I could only recall bits and pieces from the night before (minus delivery, which gladly and thankfully I remembered all of).

Tarzan filled me in with other details and then a nurse came in.  I asked her what in the world happened to me.  She said that the labor and delivery nurse had given me phenergan and that was why I was knocked out.

Learning the labor and delivery nurse did this pissed me off.  I couldn’t understand (and still don’t understand) why in the world a labor and delivery nurse would give me something that would knock me out after throwing up.  Why not give me something a lot more mild?  Why would she have thought that I wanted to be knocked out instead of getting to know my baby and getting to spend the first night together?

I guess I can’t put all of the blame totally on the nurse; I should have asked what she was giving me.  If you learn anything from my birth story, I would strongly recommend never taking this medicine.  I absolutely hated what it did to me and how I felt.  I hate that I missed out on my baby’s first night being alive.  Being given this medicine is one of my two complaints about my hospital experience.

The only other complaint that I have is that we weren’t told anything after my delivery.  I chalk that up to the fact that I was drugged and that it was about the time of the shift-change for the nurses.  We had to ask so many questions the following day because no one told us anything.  In fact, I didn’t learn that I was supposed to be putting the epifoam on the witch hazel pads on my pad after going to the bathroom each time until the OB on-call discharged me from the hospital.  On the last day.

True story.

Besides those two incidents, I had a really good experience.  Most importantly, I have the cutest, most perfect baby boy to hold in my arms… and that’s what it’s all about!  I feel truly blessed and am so in love with him.

Thanks for reading my birth story and labor and delivery story, even though it was super long.  I can’t wait to blog about everything that’s happened over the past week.

What a crazy roller coaster it’s been, complete with emotions running wild, hardly any sleep, lots of love for this new little life, and falling deeper in love with my husband, but I would not change a single thing!

P.S… I want to leave you with a quote that Tarzan posted on Twitter Saturday when he was out buying more diapers and wipes.  I thought it was really funny!

“Diapers & wipes are a lot like money. When you
think you have enough, sh** happens.” -Tarzan

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Wow!  I’m so unbelievably touched by how caring and just plain nice all of you have been to me (and Tarzan, too).

I told T. that I didn’t want to get on Twitter or blog about anything because I just feel let down.  Obviously I’m new to all of this and I hate that it isn’t black and white.  That would be so much easier!  I’m really surprised at how excited I got last night.  I definitely got my hopes up that “this is it” and I can’t even begin to describe how let down I felt earlier.  I am feeling much better, thanks to all of the many comments on the previous blog post.

The strangest & most touching part about this whole thing is how many “strangers” are out there rooting for us.  It’s amazing, to say the very least.  I feel so lucky to be sharing this experience with all of you because it’s so helpful for us both.  It’s nice to hear that what we are going through it normal.  That what the baby is doing inside is normal.  That even those of you with 3+ kids have experienced what I did last night.  It’s just so therapeutic for us both.

It seems like the majority of the time I go out to run errands, I come home complaining to Tarzan about how people just aren’t nice anymore.  People don’t smile.  They cut you off when driving.  They let a door slam in your face without even thinking twice.  They just keep on walking after you’ve held the door open for them.  And on and on and on.

It infuriates me.  Not that I’m this “I want world peace” all of the time kind of girl, but I’m nice.  I take other’s feelings into consideration.  I try to smile at people, especially when they look like they need it the most.  I truly care about brightening up someone’s day if I can do it.  I’m just nice.

I feel like so much of the niceness of the world has vanished & I think that’s why I’m so touched by the outpour of love from you guys.  Y’all don’t even know us in real life.  Shoot, you *think* my husband’s name is Tarzan, for pete’s sake.  But yet, you visit our blog and talk to us on Twitter daily.  You have been apart of our pregnancy journey for 9 months now and most of you are hoping and asking if we’ll be blogging when the baby is here.  (Yes, we will.)

I’ve had a very good and easy pregnancy.  Besides feeling so down & emotional earlier, there has only been one scare that comes to my mind in the past 9 months and that was when I was feeling a lot of pelvic pressure when I was about 28 weeks pregnant.  I put the call into my nurse and blogged about what was going on while waiting for her phone call.  Instead of driving myself crazy & looking up all that could be wrong, I listened to your advice and I felt calm.  Seriously.

You all helped me there & when the nurse called back, we figured out that it was just normal pressure and definitely not something to worry about.  But most of you had already told me that you thought the same thing.  Or been through the same thing before.

It’s just so comforting.

As T. mentioned in a comment previously, I prefer not to know the worst case scenario in anything, especially during pregnancy.  I have no idea why, but I am extremely sensitive to that kind of stuff.  T. is right, I will constantly ask him the same questions (sometimes with variations) over and over and over until I truly feel like that worst case scenario will not happen to me.

I lack a serious thinking pattern when it comes to mind over matter.  Sometimes I just fall victim to thinking the worst and let it drive me crazy.  I hate it, but that’s just how I am at times.

Obviously last night I was not scared about anything.  In fact, I felt great.  I was excited and thinking “this isn’t so bad”.  LOL.  I had a mixture of so many good feelings going on inside, so I guess that’s the reason why I felt so let down today.  I’m an emotional mess today, but when I think of why I am, it just doesn’t make sense.  Nothing bad happened.  In fact, even though I’m not holding my baby right now, my body was working towards that… and that’s a really good thing.

Why should I feel let down?  I guess I shouldn’t.  And I’m not going to dwell on that anymore.

Here’s some things I’ve learned so far:

1.  Our baby will come out when he is ready and we will be patiently (or trying to, at least) waiting for his arrival.  It’s on his terms, not ours.

2.  Even though nothing physical came out of yesterday’s contractions, something was happening in my body to get ready for labor.

3.  The bloody show can happen more than once and it’s perfectly normal, especially after having your membranes stripped.

4.  Many people go through what we went through last night.  Many get their hopes up too.  It’s just part of the excitement and I shouldn’t feel sad or upset by it.  It’s normal.

5.  I (we) have a ton of supporters out there who are rooting for us.

6.  The end of my pregnancy is the hardest part.  As you know, I haven’t really worried too much during my whole pregnancy.  I’ve been really calm and have gone on with my daily life as best as possible.  I didn’t worry about getting listeria because I ate lunch meat, or cooking the baby too much because I took a bath.  I just went along with it and did what felt best to me (of course asking my OB if I had questions).  But now that I’m at the end of my pregnancy, I find myself worrying about everything.

So many of you have told me to enjoy him being inside of my belly because the worries are nonstop when he is out.  While I don’t doubt that you know what you are talking about, I admit I find that hard to believe.  I think that having a window into my stomach so that I could see him would be so much easier than just wondering what’s going on in there.  Naturally I think that once he is here, the worrying will stop because I can see him.  I know that that is probably very naive of me to say, but I don’t know any better just yet.

7.  I have an amazing husband.  Seriously.  I am so lucky to have found my best friend and married him.  I feel so lucky to be his wife.  Just yesterday when we were walking around the neighborhood I told him how much he meant to me.  I told him thank you for answering my worst case scenario type of questions over and over without getting annoyed with me.  Most importantly I told him that he can reassure me and calm me down like no other.  Then I added that it was good that I trusted him.  LOL.  It’s true though.  He’s my rock.

If I’m scared, I go to him to make me feel safe.  If I’m excited, he’s the first one that I can’t wait to share the excited news with.  If I’m sad, he’s the one that can put the smile right back on my face.  In one word, he is amazing.  I know that word is overused, but it’s the only thing that comes close to what an awesome husband and life partner he is to me.  I only hope that I’m as good to him as he is to me.  I don’t know what I did to deserve someone so wonderful, but boy am I glad that he’s mine.

And thinking about him being a dad to our son… wow.  I can’t even go there right now because tears are streaming down my face (told you I’m emotional today).  I just know that he’ll be even more amazing & I will continue to fall deeper in love with him than I can even imagine.

Many of you have said that you’ve learned a lot from us over the past blog posts and I’m glad.  It’s nice that I’m learning from the experienced ones out there and the beginners are learning too.  The road to parenthood is a crazy one, but one that I’m excited to be on.  And I love that I’ll get to share it with you all.

So even though T. told y’all how much we appreciate everything, I just wanted it to come from my heart too.  You’ve made my first pregnancy journey a really great one & I’m so glad that you all find us interesting enough to keep coming back.  It means the world to us & I can’t wait to continue on with all of the happenings with our baby boy… whenever he decides to make his debut!

Thanks again!

Love,
Jane

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Dear Baby T,

Hi there! I hope you are doing good swimming in my belly.  It’s nice having you in there & I hope that it’s been a great home for the past 9 months.

So I just wanted to talk to you real fast about something…

Here’s the thing:  As you know, or actually I’m guessing that you might have forgotten, your estimated due date is this Thursday, July 23rd.  I know, I know, you still technically have two days to go.  Please feel free to continue swimming & lounging around in my ute for a couple more days, but then I hope you’ll seriously consider making your appearance.

Why the hurry, you ask?

Well I would really like for labor and delivery to happen as naturally as possible, and that means no scheduled c-section.  While my OB hasn’t actually talked this route with me, I just have a little feeling that the c-section talk could come up during tomorrow’s appointment.

My OB will only let me go until 41 weeks and considering I’m almost 40 weeks, I just don’t want to have to schedule anything.  I’d much rather you come out on your own… but I guess time is running out.

The past few days I’ve felt some weird things going on in there, so I’m hoping that it’s all a good sign that labor is on its lovely way.  I also think that you’ve dropped a lot more because, quite frankly, you’re making your mom slightly (well, a lot) more uncomfortable.  Of course I’m not going to complain at all… just throwing it out there for you to know.

So please consider this your official eviction notice that your time is up.  I feel like Friday, July 24th, would be an awesome birth day for you, so I hope that you make something good happen then.

Oh, and if it’s not too much to ask, please don’t hurt me.  Even though I pretend to be tough, I’m quite the baby so remember that and be gentle while making your way out into the world.

I love you little boy,
Mommy

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Today started off just like every other day.  39 weeks pregnant and still waiting… But then something strange happened that will (hopefully) make this day stand out as a little different from the others.

A couple of my girl friends were in town and they wanted to meet us for lunch.  We settled on Cafe Express at noon.  Tarzan didn’t really feel like getting dressed, but I persuaded him to go and am glad that he went.

Anyways…

Lunch was great!  I enjoyed my huge greek salad with chicken and Tarzan enjoyed his sandwich.  We told the Craigslist story about my pregnancy anxiety to some of the girls that hadn’t heard it yet and we were all laughing.  Good times for sure!

When it was time to leave, I had to make a stop at the bathroom.  No new news there.  But it’s what I saw in the bathroom at 39 weeks pregnant that makes this story just a little different from going to the bathroom every other time.

When I was finished peeing and about to wipe myself, it felt a little different down there.  Maybe more moist, if you will.  Usually when I wipe, it’s toilet paper to vagina.  This time it was toilet paper, a slimy feeling, then vagina.  Totally different.

Then I looked at the toilet paper to see what this slimy feeling was and the paper was full of mucus-y stuff and blood.  Naturally I glanced in the toilet, but did not see a mucus plug, and since there was more blood than mucus, I figured it was the bloody show.

(Being that I’ve never been pregnant before, I purely make guesses on these kinds of things.)

Immediately I had a huge smile on my face.  Perhaps the stripping of my membranes on Friday at my 39 weeks pregnant doctor appointment and the spicy stir-fry last night did the trick.  I washed my hands and headed out to share the good news with my husband.

Of course I got a bit distracted by the desserts though.  We talked about getting a chocolate chip cookie and then he suggested we go next door to Border’s to get a rice krispie treat.  Yum.

While we were walking I looked at him and said, “So guess what?  I think the bloody show just happened!”  (I seriously said this with excitement in my voice.)  He stopped dead in his tracks and was like, “What? Do we need to get you home now?  Do we need to call the dr.?”

After I stopped laughing, I told him no.  I wanted to go to Border’s and walk around.  Plus, while I am hoping that labor and delivery starts soon (like today), I’m also well aware of the fact that it could take another week or so.  No getting my hopes up just yet.

He asked me why I thought it was the bloody show and I told him because there seemed to be more blood and a little mucus instead of a plug.  (I’ve totally googled “mucus plug” and have a good feeling that I know what to expect and that’s not what I saw on the toilet paper.)

We went into Border’s and started to twitter about what was going on.  It was like a natural high almost.  I feel so great and really hope that this means something.  Tarzan, on the other hand, seems a lot more nervous.  And I mean a lot.  I’m thinking it’s a typical response from a dad-to-be.

We got some goodies at Border’s and then went to walk around outside.  I wanted to keep on walking because I know that it can help to induce labor, but it was really hot, so we cut it a bit short and headed toward the car.  Tarzan kept on saying that he wanted to go closer to home (we were already close to home) to make sure that we could get the hospital bags in the car, have a plan for our dog, blah, blah, blah.  He also kept on saying that he just had a feeling that my water was “going to explode” at any minute and he wanted to be prepared.  LOL.

I gave in and we headed toward the car.  I told him that since we were going home we were going to have sex to try to induce labor.  He didn’t seem so sure about that.  He said something classic like, “If you had a penis, would you want to put it in a hole full of mucus and blood?”  Oh Tarzan.

I reminded him that we have always had sex whether on my period or not, so what was the difference?  I think his nerves were getting the best of him really.  He said that he was feeling really overwhelmed and here I was cracking up with laughter.  I’m just so calm about this whole process and he isn’t.  Poor guy.

Before he would let me get in the car, he put down a beach blanket on the seat.  I told him that it wasn’t necessary, and he responded with “at least I’m not putting down the garbage bags too“.  Okay, okay, point taken.

We drove home with me sitting on a big, comfy pink beach blanket while telling him that we were having sex and him seeming extremely nervous.  Nervous or not, I love this guy.  It’s so sweet to see him so excited about being a father, but so vulnerable and nervous at the same time.

When we got home I had to go to the bathroom again.  He was right there and as soon as I finished wiping myself there was a “plunk” on the toilet seat.  Yes, my friends, some kind of mucus-y bloody thing that didn’t make the toilet paper came out of my vagina and landed on the toilet seat.

The toilet paper was full of mucus and blood.  Tarzan and I examined it (I even wanted to take a picture because it fascinated me, but he said that would be disgusting) and I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s probably pieces of my mucus plug falling out at each bathroom break.  I need to google the difference between mucus plug and bloody show because I’m not completely sure of the difference.

C’mon baby T!  Let’s get things moving and me to the hospital to meet you!!  Can. Not. Wait.

And now… here’s the perspective from Tarzan:

Jane's pregnant belly at Pregnancy week 39

My sweet little 39 weeks pregnant wonderful and beautiful wife Jane wanted me to write on this post as well, to document how the day went for me (so far – the craziness might just be getting started!)

I’m sorry if some (or a lot) of this is a repeat to the above, but this way you’re getting both sides of the story.  I didn’t read Pregnant Jane’s post above at all before writing this – so I have no idea what she wrote and she has no idea what I wrote.  So here goes…

Well, when Jane walked out of the bathroom I noticed she had a HUGE smile on her face.  I know something was going on.  When she told me that she thought she had her bloody show, I immediate thought about my recent blog post about wanting to ban that word and change it to the “stop sign” or “the show stopper”!

I then felt my stomach beginning to get tied into knots.  “How do you know?” I asked.  Jane replied and explained what had happened in the bathroom.

OH  MY  $&*@^!  GOSH!

I’m thinking we’re going to have to rush home ASAP and get our bags ready when Jane says, “Mmmmm, I want a cookie from the cafe in Borders.”

W  H  A  T ?!?!?!

“Are you serious!?” I asked.  ”What if your water breaks while we’re walking there?  What if it breaks while we’re in the bookstore?” Jane wasn’t phased a bit.  Why in the hell is she so $#&%* calm and I’m the one beginning to feel like I’m about to have an all-out panic attack and flip out!?

We walked into Borders and Jane ordered her cookie, actually, a cookie and a marshmallow square thing and a drink.  We then walked around the store a little and said it would be good for us to come home so we’re closer to the house.  Jane was fine with being out and about.  She wanted to be.  WTH!?!?

Jane then said she wanted to take the long way to the car and I was 100% positive that I was going to hear the “plock” sound and then “whoooooosh!” water was going to be spraying everywhere from Jane’s vagina like a broken fire hydrant in front of hundreds of people walking around town.

As we were walking, Jane was updating her Twitter profile with the play-by-play and we were laughing at some of the responses from people.

As we were getting closer to the car Jane said, “Oooh, I feel a lot of pressure down there.”

“WHAT!?!  Pressure?  Is it the baby? Is he coming right now?  Oh my God.  We need to get to the car.  I’m going to put garbage bags and towels on the seat.  This is crazy.  Wow.  We need to get home and be close to our bags!”

I’m flipping out, but trying to be calm and Jane is as calm as could be.  IN FACT, during this long walk Jane was walking 10 times faster than she has ever walked since getting pregnant!  I was having trouble keeping up with her!  Usually I have to walk really slow with her and take my time.

But today I felt like we just entered a speed-walking marathon and 39 week pregnant Jane was in the lead by a mile.  She was on a mission.  She was happy.  She was excited.  She was walking so damn fast!

We finally get to the car and I quickly grabbed a beach towel and forgot the garbage bag.  ”Hurry, people are coming!”  I quickly put the towel down and Jane jumped in the car… literally.

While driving home Jane mentioned she wanted to have sex when we got home to help further bring things along.

I excitedly thought OK… but then had a mental image of the bloody show and mucus plug.  Urgh.  I was frazzled.  Jane’s water could burst any moment and now she wanted to have sex?  Huh?  I don’t remember exactly what I said, but in my frazzled state said something like, “How would you like to stick your penis into a hole filled with mucus?” Or something like that.  That cracked Jane up and that helped lighten my freaked-out frazzled-I’m-going-to-be-a-father mental state.

We made it home without any water shooting out all over the inside of our car and Jane went to the bathroom.  “Tarzan, I want you to look at it so you can see what it looks like.”

I just stood there at the door of the bathroom in shock with our house alarm still beeping from when we walked in the door, and within a few seconds the house alarm was about to go off.  ”Turn off the alarm!”  Jane shouted and I said, “Oh yeah”, put in the code, and turned it off.

Jane went to the bathroom, wiped, and   T H E R E   I T   W  A  S.

As far as what it was, I have no clue in the world.  It was red and chunks of stuff and snotty looking stuff that reminded me of the fat you sometimes see in a whole chicken or turkey when  you are cutting it.  It was nothing like what I expected.  The hairs on my neck and arms began to raise and I shuttered with a quick chill that overcame my body.

“What in the &%$* is that!?  Is that your mucus plug?  What is that!?  Whoooa!  Ewww.” I said.  At that moment I realized that my weak stomach is going to have one hell of a test coming up soon when we’re in the hospital.   (NOTE: We don’t think it was the actual plug, just pieces of… ummm.. it or other stuff or something.)

So here we are.  Jane wants to have sex.  My stomach is still feeling nauseous.  Seriously.  I’m not feeling too good right now.  I don’t know if it’s something I ate for lunch, or all of that excitement and my adrenaline kicking into high gear combined with being shown some bloody oozy pieces of who knows what that I have never seen before!

For the first time in Jane’s pregnancy, sex is the last thing on my mind.

Right now I need to eat some Tums and relax….

I can say that I would have never expected any of this!  From Jane becoming “Super Jane” and walking 100 miles an hour, to wanting to have sex now, and then wanting to clean the house after (WHAT!?  UH OH!), to me getting all worked up and feeling ill now.

What a day.  Once my stomach feels better a nice cold beer or wine sounds VERY good.

So stay tuned…  Jane tells me that this could be the beginning of something – or that this may be nothing and we’re still a week or two away.  Uhhhh…. I don’t know how many days like this my stomach could take!

Tarzan

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Pregnancy Weight: No change at 39 weeks pregnant!  Again I just want to reiterate how freakin’ awesome the end of the third trimester is.  In not one word of a lie, I have been eating dessert daily and the scale has not moved.

Who wouldn’t love this?!

And mark my word, I will continue on this path until this child is out of my ute.  Because we all know, after he comes out I will be saying no to dessert and anything else that will halt weight loss… until then, bring on the dessert!  Might as well enjoy it!

Blood Pressure: 97/66

Baby’s Heartbeat: He was in the 130′s and my OB made a comment that he doesn’t like me on my back.  I moved around a little and then his heart rate went up to the 140′s and 150′s.

Baby’s Position: No change here:  Head down.  Good little boy!

Weeks my belly is measuring at: 39 weeks pregnant.  My OB made a comment that he doesn’t seem as low as the week before.  Blah.

Internal: Checking the usual stuff did not hurt.  However, she stripped my membranes and I said “Ouch, ouch, ouch” out loud.  Not really painful, but very uncomfortable.  Good thing is that it only last 10-15 seconds at the most.  Anyone can handle that!

Internal stats: 80% effaced still.  Cervix OPEN.  Dilated 1.5 cm.  Went back to a -2 station.  Doesn’t he know that he needs to be dropping down instead of going the other way?  Oy.

Baby’s Momma: Most excellent!  I feel like I’m such a trooper being pregnant and still doing the same stuff as before.  I can’t tell you how many people were shocked that I was at the Aerosmith concert last night.  Not gonna lie, it felt good when people asked me when I was due and I simply replied, “Thursday”.

I heard so many comments like, “You’re such a trooper!”, “I’m glad that you aren’t letting pregnancy stop you from doing things!’, etc.  Even Tarzan told me how awesome I was for being such a good sport.  Sure I have a little slower walk in my step and I have to go to the bathroom more, but overall, I feel good and I’m not going to let something like being pregnant keep me at home.

And it must be said, even though it could sound very b!tchy of me and I don’t know her story at all, but there was another pregnant girl in front of us at the concert.  She wasn’t as far along as I am, maybe 26 weeks at the most (and that’s purely based on the fact that I’m basically a pregnancy expert now.  Only kidding.)

She was sitting down so much of the time and it didn’t look like she was having fun at all.  Obviously it’s not a competition, but I found myself glancing over at her while I was up dancing and singing along and she was sitting down and I wanted to pat myself on the back.  Again, I don’t know her story at all or how her pregnancy is going, but on a purely superficial level (yes, I completely admit that), I felt like I was a badass for being so close to my due date and dancing the night away.

And now to redeem myself, I friended a lady in a motorized scooter while in line waiting for ice.  Technically she could walk, but since it was such a long walk and since she has really bad arthritis in her back, she opted for the scooter option.  Anyways, she was really sweet to me and we chit-chatted while waiting in the ridiculously long line.

There are these weird things when it is your turn in line and I didn’t know if her scooter would fit through there, so I offered to buy her margarita for her.  She was so thankful and it made me feel so good.  People should help people more often.  Where has all the niceness gone in the world?

Stretch Marks: NONE.  Pregnancy week 39 is being very kind to me

Swollen pregnancy feet or hands: Nope.  (Thank you!)

Belly Button: In.  I’m glad that it is still in, but I am just a very teeny tiny bit disappointed.  Not that I want a gross protruding belly button (no offense), but I just thought that having one was part of being pregnant.  You know, like a turkey when it’s done.  I thought it would be popping out by now being 39 weeks pregnant.  Hmmm, guess not.  Maybe pregnancy week 40?

Next appointment: July 21st.  I hope there is some progress because I have a feeling that we will be talking about other options if there isn’t.  My due date is Thursday, July 23rd, and my OB will only let me go to 41 weeks pregnant, which means if an induction was to be done it would happen very close to being 41 weeks pregnant.  I do not want to go this route at all, but I also know that I would be in excellent hands if I had to.  You can bet your butt that I’ll be walking a ton, having sex, and doing whatever else can be done to get this baby out on his own.

Anything you want to share that helped you?

Funny story during appointment: If you were on twitter yesterday, you know that we had to wait a long time for the OB to actually see me.  Tarzan and I are really good at keeping ourselves entertained, which is a good thing.  We were taking pictures of the random stuff in the exam room (all the pictures you see on this post) and giggling.

While I was sitting on the exam table, with my dress hiked up, panties off, and using a paper-thin cover to protect my goods, I started to tap my fingers on the sides of the bed.  T. looked up at me and was like, “Do you hear that?”  This is about the time that my giggles turned to extreme laughter.  Like from the belly laughter.

As if laughing really loudly at the OB’s office wasn’t enough (the walls are so thin there), I was shaking the bed from laughing so hard.  I guess the bed is not in the newest condition because it was making a very loud noise upon each shake that I made.  So loud that it sounded like T. and I were messing around on the bed.  No joke.  To make matters worse, T. kept on saying, “Stop Jane!”  and that made me laugh and shake even harder, which increased the noise tremendously.

Naturally all of this laughing made me have to go to the bathroom, so I composed myself and hopped of the bed.  As soon as I opened the door, I saw two nurses standing outside of our door.  It was awkward and I have a feeling that they thought something was going on in our room too.  LOL.

Sure, sex helps move along labor they say, especially being 39 weeks pregnant.  But having sex in the doctor’s office would not be the best idea!  I still wonder if the nurses think we had sex!

Big milestones this week:  Aerosmith concert and feeling like I’m just in a really good place right now.  I’m more in love with my husband than ever (and vice versa) and I can’t wait to bring our little baby boy in this world.  We had a great dinner, complete with a non-alcoholic beer for me.

We reminisced about certain parts of dating from the past 6 years and how happy we both are.  I know it sounds cheesy, but it was really sweet.  It’s nice to have been together for so long, dating and marriage, and to still enjoy each other’s company.  I’ve also wanted to be the couple who is 80 years old and still in love.  There’s just something so sweet about it.

Anyways, T. told me that while he was driving a few days ago, he just felt really proud of his family: me, our dog, and our unborn baby.  It just made him feel really happy and proud.  Isn’t that sweet?

We are starting another beginning with one another and, while it was scary when I first got pregnant, it’s so fabulous now.  We are both so excited and can’t wait to have an addition to our family.  It’s a cool feeling to be so in love and to be on this journey together.

(Mushiness over.)

Tip for all you pregnant ladies: One word: Ice.  Instead of drinking tons of water while you are at a concert, movies (if you don’t chew loudly), or anywhere else where you don’t want to constantly go to the bathroom, chew/suck on ice instead.  I learned this from the above mentioned pregnant girl and it was brilliant.  I had a ton of ice and I didn’t have to leave the concert to pee all of the time.  Brilliant!

So here we are.  Pregnancy week 39.  The clock is ticking.  LOUDLY!

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Back when I was newly pregnant, we got tickets for the Aerosmith concert.  Sure, we calculated how many weeks pregnant I would be (39 weeks pregnant), but there were a few things that I just could not have known at that time.

Like how uncomfortable being 39 weeks pregnant is.  Like how my little babe loves to press on my bladder and make me pee every 5 minutes.  Like how slow I would move.  Like how hot I would be in the middle of July in Houston.

Oh, and did I mention that the concert is at an outdoor venue?  (At least we do have a seat instead of sitting in the grass – I can’t imagine trying to pull that one off!)

But even though I could not have known all of the above things, I still told my husband that I wanted to go.  He was more nervous about going to the concert so close to my due date than I was (shocking, I know!).

I have been so adamant about not wanting to let pregnancy slow me down, so I’ve been quite excited about the concert… until a couple weeks ago.

Now you have to understand just how much we love going to see Aerosmith.  We’ve been to a handful of their concerts and have had a blast each and every time.  Yes, alcohol has always been a fun part about the concert too, so it will be a little change for me this time around, but I’m still game.

(Seeing that I’ve been to a few concerts while pregnant, I can say that I remember the concert in its entirety, as opposed to having some moments that are a bit hazy due to alcohol.  It’s actually nice when you can remember the whole thing!)

I just worry how often I’ll have to drag my ass to the bathroom during the concert.  An outdoor concert is not like going to the movies where I can pace myself with water to avoid so many bathroom trips.  We’ll be outside and I know I’ll be hot.  I will NEED water, which means I will need the bathroom too.

Hmm, maybe I can try to find the playlist for the concert so I know the opportune times (read: song I don’t care too much about) to run/waddle to the bathroom.  Now there’s an idea…

Today is also my 39 weeks pregnant OB appointment.  My husband has heard from quite a few people that this appointment is THE time for the wife/fiance/girlfriend to go into labor.  I don’t know where he gets his information from, but he wants to take the hospital bags with us to the OB appointment.  (The hospital is right next door, so technically it would make sense.)

As I’m blogging, I’m also wondering where I will be tonight:  In labor and delivery at the hospital or outside singing to Aerosmith. (I hope it’s the latter.)

The whole waiting thing is just weird to me.  Now I’m not extremely anal with having to have a plan at all times, but the fact that the baby will come when he wants is beyond my comprehension.  It’s weird to be “depending” on my unborn son to lead the way.  I’m hoping (as is Tarzan) that he waits until tomorrow, at the earliest, to start his journey into the world, but again, we have no say in this matter at all.

There were a few things that I wanted him to wait for before entering the world:

1.  Nice dinner & Phantom of the Opera last week – check!

2.  Aerosmith concert tonight – only time will tell (If I go into labor while at the concert, I guess we’ll just have to name the babe Steven Tyler.  LOL!)

3.  Coming after July 24th so he could be a Leo – only time will tell

He’s made his mom proud that he let us go to the Phantom of the Opera last week, now if only he could stay inside until tonight is over, I will be even more proud.  Being a Leo has its advantages, but really, if he wants to come out before and be a Cancer, I’m okay with that.  It will mean that it is less time for me to be pregnant and that much sooner that I get to meet my son.

And that sounds completely awesome!  Here’s to 39 weeks of pregnancy!

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On Twitter the other day I asked people’s opinions about whether or not I should bring my own unopened bottle of Ibuprofen and stool softeners.  (Ibuprofen for any after birth pain and stool softeners to make things come out more easily in case there is tearing involved after labor and delivery.)

Many people told me not to worry about it.  ”That’s what insurance is for”, they said.  Oh, I only wish it were that easy!

After I explained that we are maternity insurance-less (see how much having a baby costs without it here), and the fact that I’ve heard that just one pill can cost between $25-$50, I wanted to make sure that I was prepared.  After all, who wants to spend more money than they have to, right?

I put in a call to the hospital that I will be delivering baby T. at three days ago.  You can imagine how surprised I was when they called me back today; I had totally forgotten about it.

The financial counselor, or whatever her official title is, told me that I needed not to worry because pills, food, room & board, diapers, bulb syringes, and anything else baby-related is covered in the price that we paid.  Whew.  What a relief to hear that!

She said that the only, and I made sure of this, way that we would get a bill for anything extra is if there are complications and the baby has to stay in the NICU.  (Please, please, please keep us in your thoughts and prayers that when the time comes he is healthy and won’t need to stay there.)

So while this whole baby thing has come with surprises, I am pleasantly happy with the fact that something seems to go our way and that pills will be provided at no additional cost to us.

After all, we’ve already paid the $3500 for it!

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38 weeks pregnant and counting… and waiting.  Are signs of labor during my pregnancy starting?

It’s funny because I know that I’m 1cm dilated and 80% effaced and I keep getting my hopes up with every little sign.  I’m also quite aware of the fact that dilation and effacement doesn’t necessarily mean a thing.  It’s such a tease really.

I find myself looking for signs of labor approaching and then I think “Is this it?” and it never is.  I need to remain calm and stop worrying.  I really just don’t want to have to worry about being induced, but no sense in worrying about that now either.

I had my last pregnancy internal on Friday and I must say that I dislike having my appointment on Fridays.  It was much better when I had my appointment on Wednesdays because the office was always open should I need to call about a question.  With a Friday appointment I can’t just call the office.  Well, I technically could call the emergency number, which pages my OB, but the key word there is emergency.

Anyways, after my internal on Friday my OB told me that I could expect a little spotting since there was a little drop of blood on her glove.  No big deal, right?

Well I had spotting the whole damn weekend, accompanied with menstrual cramp feelings.  I wanted to call the office, but did not deem this quite an emergency, so I refrained.  Naturally I was super excited when the office re-opened yesterday and I was able to place my call to the nurse.

Wouldn’t you know that she called me back while I was in the produce section of the grocery store?  Perfect location to talk blood, mucus plug, cramping, and labor, isn’t it?

Anyways, the nurse said my OB said it was nothing to worry about, most likely my cervix ripening and shedding some blood.  She also said that my OB thinks it will be just a matter of time now (another tease, no?).  I was told that I should not be having period-like blood, so if I do to call the office or the emergency number if the office is closed.  So far, so good (as far as having no period-like blood).

So now I just sit and wait and continue to look for other…

Signs of labor during pregnancy week 38?

For example, and consider yourself fair-warned about this TMI topic coming up, pregnancy bowel movements.

Up until four days ago, I was not pooping.  I swear that a week had gone by, or at least it felt like that.  It could have only been a few days.  Obviously I wasn’t keeping track.

But four days ago, everything started to move in my bowels and this was without changing up my diet.  No diarrhea (really, I did warn you about the topic!), but not extremely “solid” either.  And it’s been happening daily at least 2-3 times.  This is brand-spanking new for me and I like to think that it’s a sign.  Pregnancy bowel movements is not my favorite topic by far, but it’s a sign my body is preparing for labor!

I’ve read and heard numerous times that bowel movements at the end of your pregnancy is a sign that labor is soon because your body will start to cleanse that unwanted stuff before labor.

The only reason I remember that is because there were about six signs of preliminary labor and I checked off each item to Tarzan as we were watching a DVD on the signs of labor – which we will be reviewing on here within the next day or two.  The only thing that I hadn’t experienced on the signs of labor list was “diarrhea”.  Lovely topic.

And then things started to move, so maybe I can check that item off the list too.

Even if I can, it doesn’t really mean anything.  My baby will come out when he is ready, no matter what I do to help him along the way (spicy foods, sex, walking, etc).  I wish it was easier to get him to make his appearance, but I know that when he does it will be special and I will be so thankful to hold him in my arms instead of him pressing against my bladder.

All. Of. The. Time.

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