Tag: Pregnancy

My Last Pregnant Day

On By JesseIn Life, Motherhood, Prose, Sunshine, TwinsLeave a comment

I have a picture from my last pregnant day with my Sunshine.  We were scheduled for an induction at 7am the following morning, but she decided to come on her own starting around midnight.  I remember that day being a good one.  I was definitely over being pregnant by then (nine days past her due date), my bag was packed, I’d had a long, hot shower, and everything was ready at my parent’s house for us to bring our girl home.
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This time it was different.  My body felt wrecked–it hurt to sit, to stand, to move.  I was stressed about the boys being breach–meaning if Baby A didn’t flip head down, a c-section would be necessary.  I couldn’t sleep.  I couldn’t concentrate on even the most simple yet important tasks (like packing a go-bag, setting up baby things, opening mail, etc.).  And from the moment I’d found out I was having twins, I’d felt off-center and couldn’t seem to regain a sense of balance.

The babys’ room was not ready, the house was not ready, but worst of all, I could tell I wasn’t ready.

So on a sunny Sunday evening in June, I decided to mostly ignore my brain, which was telling me I should not go paddle boarding 36 weeks pregnant with twins, and follow my heart to the water.
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We didn’t go far and we didn’t do too much, but I brought my paddle board (feeling cautiously optimistic that I could actually use it) and my man brought one of our kayaks and a tow-rope (just in case I couldn’t).  I managed a leisurely paddle from the boat launch to the beach (where my mama and my Sunshine were playing) and back again with no need for a tow and it was pure magic.

For the first time in at least six months, I felt good.

I felt happy.

And I felt strong.
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Then, just an hour or so later, my water broke and when I realized that night would be the night, I smiled.  That paddle was just what I needed to fill my cup, get my head on straight, and take on the monumental task of bringing new life into the world with a smile on my face.  : )
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Some Days (3rd Trimester Edition)

On By JesseIn Life, Motherhood, Thoughts2 Comments

Some days I feel like a goddess–powerful, strong, sustaining life with the miracle that is my body . . .

And some days I feel like an over-stretched sack of humans, fraying at the edges and straining at the seams.

Some days I feel accomplished–homemade, healthy dinner on the table, laundry done, toddler happy and tired from a day of outside adventure . . .

And some days I feel like putting on pants is more of a challenge than I have the will to take on.

Some days I feel happy knowing my babies are coming soon and I’ll have two sweet, tiny boys to snuggle and feed . . .

And some days all I can think about is the sheer volume of gross bodily fluids I will be cleaning up for the next two-three years.

Some days, I look at my handsome husband in awe of all that he is to me and to our growing family–how hard he works, how much of my slack he takes up as I get more and more ungainly, and how much love, time, and energy he gives to me and our daughter.

And some days, I want to punch him in the throat for telling me he understands how I feel or complaining that his back hurts or whining as he slowly and dramatically perishes of a “man-cold.”

Some days, I think to myself I am never having another child as long as I live after these two . . .

And some days . . . just kidding, that one is actually all of the days.  ; )

 

The Worst Pregnant Person I Know

On By JesseIn Life, Motherhood, Prose, Thoughts3 Comments

It’s important to note before reading this blog that it is not about depression. If you are having scary or dangerously unhappy thoughts there’s absolutely no shame in that but please let someone know how you’re feeling.  Depression of all degrees is common during pregnancy, you are not alone, and help is never as far away as it seems. 

The worst pregnant person I know . . .

is me.

Pregnancy just isn’t my thing.  Yeah, yeah, I’m aware it’s miraculous, I am amazed at what our bodies can do, I feel blessed to be able to bring children into the world (While pregnancy isn’t my thing, I love children. ; ), I just . . . don’t enjoy it–any of it.

I’m not much for bump pictures.

I don’t love feeling them move, though it’s nice to be reminded they’re okay in there. (I mean, that is my bladder they’re doing headstands on . . .)

And I don’t get particularly excited about gender or ultrasound photos or nursery decorating or . . . any of it really.

We are now at 22 weeks into this twin pregnancy and I have lost any semblance of interest in “real” pants (yes, even the maternity ones).  To that end, I’ve purchased five pairs of fold-over yoga pants and four pairs of serious but quite stretchy leggings that I consider my “nice pants.”

Most days I eat what anyone would consider a full meal every three-four hours with snacks in between and still just manage to gain weight as I should for twins.  This is, thus far, the only true benefit to being pregnant I can discern (other than getting my sweet babies when it’s over, that is : ).

Because I am pregnant with twins, the medical community has honored my pregnancy earlier than most with the title, “Geriatric Pregnancy” and they like to refer often to my “Advanced Maternal Age” when explaining tests.  Jerks.

In short, I’m just not a glowing, excitable, example of prenatal joy.  When I was pregnant with my first baby, my lack of excitement and general grouchiness about the whole thing was upsetting and certainly guilt-inducing.

I was afraid I wouldn’t love my daughter like a mother should.  I felt guilty for not savoring each moment when I know there are so many who go through so much to be pregnant and for not wanting to participate in celebrating each new development along the way.  I didn’t like talking about it because everyone around me was so happy and excited and I just wasn’t.

Then she was born.
And, for me, in that instant, everything changed.

I knew without a single doubt that I loved her beyond anything I had ever known before and that has held true.  I have absolutely loved being a mama.  I have loved watching her grow and experience new things.  I have loved holding her and feeding her and taking her places and getting to know her unique personality.

So this time, I’m not surprised to feel frustrated, uncomfortable, and generally annoyed with the physical state of pregnancy, but unlike last time, I’ve let go of the anxiety and decided not to feel bad about it.

If you’re pregnant and you aren’t enjoying it either, that’s okay.  I think it’s perfectly normal to not feel like celebrating when you’re pregnant.  Lots of people don’t want to celebrate a three month long stomach flu, constant nausea, terrible lower back pain, peeing when you sneeze (or laugh or throw up, etc), suddenly having to overhaul your entire diet to suit the whims of the beasts within, not sleeping well for months at a time, and so many more “fun” side effects.

It doesn’t mean you won’t love your child.  It doesn’t mean you’re crazy.  It doesn’t make you a bad person.

And for all of  my friends and family who are so excited for me, that’s okay, too!  I couldn’t possibly be more grateful to know that my children are so loved and anticipated by such an incredible community before they’re even born.  Just bear with me, I’ll have a lot more fun with it all in a few months.  Promise.  ; )
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My Sweet Miss Baby

On By JesseIn LifeLeave a comment

According to medicine, you are three days late.  Some say you’re being stubborn, but I confess I feel proud that you’re already bucking the expectations of the establishment and you haven’t even left the womb!  Don’t let the man tell you when to be born, you tell the man!

Looking at it from your perspective, I doubt you’re any more eager to experience birth than I am.  I mean, even an infant can see that the physics involved are not in either of our favors.

I say to myself I won’t miss these aching hips but something tells me that one day I’ll look back and remember the feeling of your tiny feet against my ribs with a pang of sadness that we’ll never again be as we are now.

As you near the end of your journey into this world, I carry our two souls together knowing it will only be for a precious little longer.  This can be a sad and scary place, but there is so much to love, I’ve always found even the hardest times to be worth it.

Whenever you decide it’s time, your dad and I are here to welcome you with open arms, five furry siblings, and a very small pair of cowgirl boots.  : )

Roommates: Miss Baby

On By JesseIn Life, Short Stories, WritingLeave a comment

No doubt about it, things were getting tight. She stretched her arms and legs as far as she could, just to check again, and sure enough, the soft, seemingly flexible walls of her living space were decidedly less flexible than they had been the week before.  It was happening so slowly, she almost hadn’t noticed, but lately, it had become clear–this room, which had started out quite comfortable, was shrinking.

It was a desperate situation really.  She wasn’t exactly sure how she’d gotten here and therefore, wasn’t exactly sure how to go about going somewhere else . . . There were others nearby, but none she felt comfortable asking.  For some reason, they didn’t seem to like her.  They were always scooting out of her way, mumbling and grumbling.  She apologized often, but that didn’t seem to help anymore.  Another hint the room was shrinking, she couldn’t move a hand or foot these days without bumping into Bladder or Diaphram or some other random, grumpy neighbor.

Something soft brushed her toe, interrupting her thoughts, and she kicked out, “HIYA!” Then everything constricted suddenly, as it sometimes did.  She pressed out against the walls, hoping to get away from whatever it was, but there was nowhere to go . . . finally, she looked and realized it was just Bladder again.  “Oops, sorry!” She said, but only received a pained groan in response.  Sigh.  Typical.

One way or another, she was going to HAVE to find a way out of here . . .

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Roommates: Meeting One

On By JesseIn Life, Short StoriesLeave a comment

“Hello everyone and thank you all for coming.”

“Uhhmm, Bladder, why are you whispering?”

“SHHHH, Stomach!! It’s sleeping now and I don’t want it waking up until we’re done talking.  I didn’t invite Baby to this roommates meeting.”

“Oooohhhhh.”

“Yeah.  Look, I called this meeting to see if I’m the only one whose getting worried about the new roommate.  I mean, at first I thought Baby was pretty cool; it was so quiet and took up hardly any room at all.”

Around the small room, organs nodded their assent.

“Then, the other day, I woke up feeling like I was going to burst, opened my eyes, and baby was LITERALLY using me as a pillow!”

“Ya know, now that I think about, Baby’s foot has gotten caught on me three times just in the last week.  I mean, it’s always polite, all “excuse me” and “so sorry!” but that never happened when Baby first moved in.” Ribs chimed in all together.

“I’ve been getting a little nervous, myself.” Whispered stomach.  “I didn’t really want to say anything because I wasn’t completely sure it was Baby’s fault, but honestly, since just a couple of weeks after it moved in, I’ve felt positively awful.  It got better a few weeks ago, but still, I used to work with whatever came down about three or so times a day, now, if there isn’t enough there, I can’t control it, I just start kicking bile back up.  I’m not sure if I’m crazy or broken or what, but I just know it started soon after Baby moved in.”

“Well, that does it.” Bladder stated quietly.  “I don’t want to be hasty; Baby’s awfully sweet, but it sounds like we all have concerns.  I vote that we meet again in a month or so for a another check-in.  If things don’t get better in a few months, we may just have to ask Baby to leave.”

Everyone present nodded somberly and tried to move back into their normal positions, but there just wasn’t room, so they squeezed in as close to where they used to go as they could.  And just in time, too!  With a whoosh, a tiny hand flew out, smacking belly button in the back.  Belly Button let out a surprised yelp and Baby promptly held up the same hand in a gesture of apology. “So sorry!  Pardon me, Belly Button, I’m afraid I woke up with a start.” Baby said with an easy smile.

To be continued . . .
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Uncomfortable Miracle

On By JesseIn Life1 Comment

My body is changing so quickly to accommodate new life–these new breasts and veins, this expanding belly, and the feeling of our baby moving within . . . an uncomfortable miracle.

I can’t imagine there is anything more personal than holding a life inside yourself–nourishing a soul into physical existence with your own breath, your own body.

Becoming a mother is beautiful . . . and painful and exhausting.

I now understand why many wild animals just disappear into a suitable bush by themselves to give birth, only appearing when they and their young are good and ready.

I’m trying very hard to stop explaining my choices in regard to pregnancy and having children, even (or perhaps especially) when pressed. It seems my aversion to expectations is bordering on pathological and it’s no wonder to me that children take months to be able to walk . . . expectations are by far and away the heaviest material known to man.

I cannot wait to meet this person we made. I’m not particularly interested in shopping for baby things, I don’t have a theme or care what the nursery looks like, and I have no preference for gender.  But I cannot wait to meet this person we made–to show him or her what we love about this beautiful world and to find out what he or she will bring into our world that we have no way of knowing yet.

I worry about this child’s health, about all the things that could go wrong from now until I’m dead and can’t worry anymore. But alongside the fear is the most incredible hope and joy–a confusing mix that I imagine will simply be a part of the rest of my life–my uncomfortable miracle, indeed.

The Early, Silent Hours

On By JesseIn LifeLeave a comment

It’s the early, silent hours I love best.  Sipping my coffee, watching the sun rise, and feeling you thump around in my belly, hopefully without a care, as you knit yourself together from stardust and whatever I’ve been eating lately (mostly fruit and baked potatoes).  I imagine that when you feel finished and decide to arrive, the mornings will only get earlier and less silent, but for now, it’s the most lovely part of my day.  The part where I get to wonder about you without interruptions and can let go of all the fear and anxiety that I’m somehow doing this wrong even though we’ve just gotten started.

What I already feel for you reminds me so much of what I feel for your father.  I want to give you perfection, but all I have is myself. You should know this now, I have made and continue to make a lot of mistakes. I’m confident that your entry into our lives will only provide me with a wealth of new opportunities to be awkward and generally make a mess of things.  That said, I love to have fun, I’m a big fan of compromise, and I’m an expert at letting go (your dad is still working with me on how to hold on), which often works wonders when mistakes are made.

Your father is a riot.  You’re going to love the crazy things he can do with his face, the ridiculous repertoire of noises he can make (the dolphin being one of my personal faves).  And he has no idea how to hold babies, change diapers, etc, so you and I will share a lot of laughs in the early years while he fumbles around.

Well, little love, speaking of your father, the sun is up and it’s time for us to get started on the day.  I say we kick it off right and go jump on the bed right by Daddy’s face while singing Rise and Shine at the tops of our lungs.  He loves that.  ; )
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A Pregnant Pause

On By JesseIn Life4 Comments

Sitting on the couch at the Sun River place, I am looking out the window at rain falling on pines and letting life catch up to me . . . or catching up to my life? . . . I’m not exactly sure which.

The photo with this post was taken back in early November and will always be a favorite as it is the very first photo we took together after learning I was pregnant.

I find myself oddly reticent to discuss this little life within me. I wish it were possible to just wait until the baby arrives to tell everyone, but alas, it’s quickly becoming something I can no longer keep to only myself and my closest associates. ; )

I dread having anyone, friend or foe, reach for my stomach to touch it. If I make it through the next six months without an assault charge for using Judo skills I don’t have on some unsuspecting, over-zealous well-wisher who tries to touch me, it will be a miracle.

Our families, Carl’s and my own, are so very here for us. We come from a lot of love and there’s a lot of love waiting for this little one when it arrives.

Thankfully, we also have many smart, loving friends who are happy to join us in this adventure just as they have for all the other adventures through the years! : )

Of course, I’ve turned to books in my time of need for info, but in this, I’ve been oddly and terribly disappointed. If you are pregnant or thinking about it, beware! There is quite a bit of drivel out there—much of it opinion pieces with little or no actual science behind them or, even worse, badly interpreted research presented with an obvious slant. The only one I’ve found worthwhile (so far) is “Expecting Better” by Emily Oster. It’s an easy read that goes from before conception through birth and has a wealth of helpful, well-supported information.

I’ve come into yet another, previously undiscovered, layer of the love between my husband and myself. He is more in more ways than I have the words for at present, so I will have to write on that later. Suffice it to say, I am beyond content and confident in my choice of father for my children.

And lastly (for now), the day I went in for my first ultrasound, was the exact same day I was declared cancer-free four years earlier. There was something more than lovely about seeing our first child, for the first time on the same day I was given a second chance at living myself.   : )
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