Severe Prenatal Stress & Anxiety

Control: Losing it & Taking it

This pregnancy has been about taking control: eliminating all present agents of dysfunction and disorder and establishing healthy routines, all for the sake of purifying and strengthening my body for the best possible beginning for this baby.

In many ways, I've been able to do that.  I've enjoyed the self-authority to make solid decisions and stick to them.  For instance, I've been diligent about increasing my protein intake.  I've kept to a decent sleep schedule.  I've been careful not to overexert with lifting and moving things the way I normally do.

But in many more ways, the things that are simply beyond my control are getting the best of me.  I can't control how others behave or how they word things.  I can't control my environment.  I can't control the convenience factor of things.  I can't control entropy.

And yet, it seems my entire sense of well-being depends on my sense of relative control.  If all the factors of life are where I put them, as I put them, then I feel fine.  And if not (as is 99.9% the case), then I feel as if I'm failing or doing something wrong, or I'm angry because I'm trying and putting my energy, effort, and WILL out into the world, and nothing seems to oblige me.

I suppose it boils down to not getting what I want.  And when I don't get what I want how I want it, I feel like my blood pressure's going through the roof, my brain is pounding in my head, and my internal potty-mouth is ranting unchecked.

And besides the anger...there is the heartbreak -- the deep, heavyset feeling of failure and self-pity soaking the razor-edges of my rage.  Inside, I am a pathetic, ineffective, sopping cardboard knife.  (And paper cuts are always the worst.)

NO meds, please!!!

I do NOT want to go back on medication.  The literature says medications may be perfectly safe for me and the baby, and it's not that I don't trust the studies.  It's just that my gut, my instinct tells me not to, and I won't go against that.  At least not unless/until I'm absolutely desperate.

I feel kind of desperate (as opposed to "absolutely").  I'm just about to that "something's-got-to-give" stage.  All these years of suffering Depression, I know without a doubt when I've arrived at that place where I've GOT to get some help.  I'm not there at this precise moment, but it's right there, just feet away in the fog.  I can already feel the warmth of its hot, stinking breath on my face.

So I really, really, really don't want to go back on medication.  I really, really, really don't.  But I won't say "never," because I know me, and I know the pain, and I know where one ends and the other begins.

Non-medicinal Stress Relief Alternatives

Alternatively, I've been researching Stress Relief During Pregnancy.  So far, just about all the resources I've read say the same kinds of things:

• hot baths/showers
• prenatal massage
• yoga
• meditation
• plenty of sleep
• proper diet
• scale back on commitments

These are pretty much no-brainers.  And they're so broad and obvious, they're really not help at all.

I need some solutions that are dynamic yet simple, classic yet revolutionary.

• Aromatherapy - This might be an option, except with the Prenatal Super-Nose, I'm really afraid the risk of migraine would outweigh the benefits of relaxation.  Maybe I could explore certain natural fragrances that have a calming effect.  Aveeno Active Naturals Shower & Bath Oil ("Natural Soothing Oatmeal") is one of the only fragrances that seems to have a positive effect on me.  Maybe it's the smooth, almond-ish scent.  I'm not sure.  But I don't get a headache or gag when I smell that.  Natural vanilla? Gardenia? Honeysuckle? Cinnamon? Baby powder???


• White noise - I could see this working for me, except I can only see it working for me at night after the kids have gone to bed. No white noise in the world would be able to drown out their bickering.  I could re-institute the little rock fountain on my nightstand, or maybe plug into some "thunderstorm" or "light rain" mp3s. Classical music might work, but then, it would have to be very specifically low and melodic, like Moonlight Sonata.  Something like Rhapsody in Blue simply would not do.


• Nature - Nature has...um....natural healing properties.  It's why I love camping so much.  The second my feet touch the unpaved earth, my blood pressure drops, and I feel whole and complete.  When I smell trees and fresh flowing water...when I smell salt in the air and on the winds blowing in from the Gulf...when I can actually hear the wind undisturbed by humming engines or man-made movement.  Nature is why I sleep so well and so easily sitting in a canvas chair on the riverbank.  It's why a day feels like a week and I relish it.  Nature is why I hardly ever raise my voice or chastise anyone for anything.

Whatever strategies I settle on for neutralizing my stress, I've got to decide on them and pursue them immediately and deliberately.  I can't wait for things to get better or worse.  If I don't want to be treated for stress and anxiety, I better treat myself fast.  And I better keep brainstorming and researching and trying and trying and trying until I find something or somethings that work.  I just don't want a damn prescription.

First Trimester Draws to an End

(Photo at right: baby bump at three months.)

First trimester draws to an end

These first three months have gone by awfully fast, but they've certainly taken their toll.  The fog of morning sickness gently lifts away, and in barrels the churning storm of irritability at its most vicious.  I cannot seem to shake it.  Woe to those who live within my radius of reach.

An awful fact:  Obstetricians in the Acadiana region are so overloaded with patient cases, some of us have to wait an entire month or more for an appointment opening.  Fortunately, I found one who was able to book me much sooner than that, but I had to postpone until payday.

So, my first appointment with the OB will be later than is routinely recommended.  I'd be a little put off about that, except I believe I've been taking very good care of myself and have paid very close attention to what my body's been telling me.  No red flags thus far.

And I have great faith in this OB I'll be seeing.  He was hand-picked and highly recommended by our midwife.  "He's 100% on-board for natural birth and homebirth.  Just be honest with him about your preexisting conditions so he can make an honest, informed assessment."

That I will do.

Don't know how much I weigh right now, but it feels like I'm probably around 115 or so.  Can definitely feel the extra padding, and the strain on the lower back is certainly beginning to make itself known.

Do-it-yourself neck and back support

Surprisingly, I haven't had trouble sleeping at all.  I discovered a way to support my neck, and it's so effective, I've been sleeping soundly every night and waking up with no aches in my spine or neck.  I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner.

I took a cylindrical pillow that Priss made for me several years ago, and I rolled it up in a long fleece scarf.  The result is a comfy, cushy little neck roll that keeps my spine aligned and my airway open so I can breathe freely and easily.

I also surround myself with support pillows.  The top two stabilize my head and take all strain off of my neck.  The bottom two stabilize my spine and take all strain off of my lower back.

The four-pillow positioning also works whether I'm lying on my back or on either side.

I'd been wondering for a while how I've been able to get up earlier and earlier yet still feel rested.  And I found myself pain-free.  Now I know why.  If my back is wonky over night, my whole body will be wonky the next day.

Now, if only there were a strategic pillow-positioning that would help my attitude.  :(

Fighting Against Overeating

I've had a big problem with heartburn and bloat.  I also think I may be gaining unnecessary pounds simply because I give in to every craving that strikes me and then I eat until I'm overly full.

In order to combat overeating, I decided to try a few strategies to achieve a healthier meal routine.

Eating less, more often.  Instead of eating three large meals a day, I'm eating four or five smaller meals a day. 

Allowing myself to snack.  I still grab a snack when the mood strikes me, but instead of parking myself next to the canister or cookies or dragging out the whole bag of cubed cheese, I take a handful and limit myself to that.  No going back for seconds.

What I'm eating has changed, too. I figured, one of the reasons I've been so prone to overeating is because there hasn't been much in the house for me to "grab" when I'm hungry.  I've had to wait for one of the family meals to roll around, and by then, I'm starving, so I stuff myself silly.

This last trip to the grocery store, I decided I'd make sure the house was stocked with snacks and foods "just for me," so they're there for me to grab when I want them.

• tapioca pudding
• yogurt
• cheese wheels
• fresh fruits, bite-sized
• tommy toe tomatoes (of course)
• cottage cheese

Another thing I'm keeping on-hand is a supply of Lean Cuisine frozen entrees.  I realize it's not the best nutrition in the world, but the meals are already prepared.  It only takes five minutes for them to heat in the microwave, and the serving is just enough to fill me up until the next meal.  Sitting down to one serving of Glazed Chicken and herb rice is much more satisfying than cracking open a can of chicken noodle soup or fixing myself a double-decker turkey-and-provolone sandwich.  Side note: I do very much enjoy the occasional soup or sandwich; just not every single time I'm hungry between meals every single day.  The Lean Cuisine meals offer variety without a truckload of calories.

So far, my new strategies have worked.  I've gotten heartburn once in the last two weeks, and I find I'm not constantly miserable because I want something to eat, but can't find anything, or can't find anything that will satisfy my picky pregnant appetite.

Louisiana Statutes for Midwife Practitioners

(From email sent to husband and mother)

Dear Miner & Mom...

LA State Statutes and Regulations for Midwife Practitioners
http://mana.org/laws/laws_la.htm

The first part of the document covers details about board members and certification requirements.  Not necessary to read.

What you may want to look at begins with "Chapter 53. Licensed Midwives."  Scroll about halfway down the page, and you'll see the bold heading there.

From this section on, you can read about midwives standards of care, like what tests they're required to do on their patients/clients, what situations require them to consult with the supporting physician, etc.  You can see there's not much guesswork involved in what they do.  Their steps are pretty cut and dried.

It's a lot of reading, but very interesting if you have the time.  It really clarifies what we'll be looking at for a home birth and what we can expect from the midwife in most situations we can think of.

Love you!
'Ailina

Why some women would like to give birth at home

Some women choose to birth at home because home is where they're most comfortable.  They may want to feel free to roam about in a skirt, in a favorite bathrobe, or in nothing at all!  They may want people with them who can be present without being intrusive. They may want to fix their own snacks, move back and forth from the birthing tub to the outside garden as the mood moves them, and even read or nap if that's what they feel like doing.  In other words, they want to be free to do what they want to do, when they want to do it, and how they want to do it -- without time, protocols, liability, and other external factors defining their choices.

-- Jennifer L. West, LM, CPM, HBCE, and Deborah S. Romaine, Complete Idiot's Guide to Natural Childbirth

I was surprised to see this concept worded just so as it reflects all the intrinsic desires I've wanted since I gave birth to Squeak seven years ago.  I'd already decided what and how I wanted to do things before I ever began researching "home birth."  Reading about my preferences as written by someone I've never met, all nicely summed up in one paragraph, not only gives me confidence in what my instincts have told me, but thrills me to no end there are people and practitioners who are supportive and willing to accommodate me!

Nesting or Prenatal OCD

• Cleaned out my half of the closet.
• Boxed up non-maternity clothes for attic.
• Filled large bag with clothes and shoes for donation.
• Sorted all hangers.
• Washed, dried, folded, and hung three loads of laundry.
• Archived last three months' homeschooling.
• Updated lesson plans and assignment cards.
• Organized homeschooling desk (surface).

Nesting has always been a crazed frenzy.  I clearly recall using Q-tips to dig out dust from nooks and crannies in the wooden furniture.  Once upon a time, I alphabetized the books in the bookshelf and sorted the clothes hanging in the closet according to color.  When I get it, I get it bad.

I had no plans whatsoever to tear apart the closet tonight.  It began with the stuff hanging on the racks. I figured I'd get rid of the clothes I'll never, ever fit into again.  That led to the shelves. Then the shoes. Then the upper shelves of things I haven't touch since 2003.  Before I knew it, my side of the closet was practically bare except for the few new maternity clothes I've collected.  And I can actually walk around in there without stepping on something.

I killed a good four hours cleaning and sorting and sifting and trashing.  Still, there's no end in sight.  In this bedroom alone, I've got two bookshelves filled to capacity, books crammed together so tightly you couldn't slip a bookmark between them.

I've got two baskets full of sewing notions, a trunk stuffed with bolts and bolts of fabric and remnants. And I haven't even begun to touch the contents of the file cabinet, or the pile of papers that should be in the file cabinet.

Just writing about it, I'm getting an unbearable itch to keep going.  I could easily pull an all-nighter and double both the trash pile and the donation pile.  I could storm though the rest of the laundry, start dusting and disinfecting all the surfaces.  I could revert back to my past nesting form and take a Q-tip to the cracks and corners of the furniture.  I could create and implement my own library organization system according to alphabet AND color.

I could do it. And the itch would go away for a while.  But when it comes back, what will I do then???

Month Two: Mission Complete

Today marks the end of the second month.  The evidence is "growing," but sometimes, I find I'm still in disbelief.

Physically, I'm hanging in there. This pregnancy is turning out to be a lot more challenging than any of the ones before.  I might attribute that to age, but that's just a theory.

I've never been plagued by true morning sickness before, but this time, I consistently wake up queasy.  Vomiting is not an issue (thank God), but there's no other feeling in the world worse for me than nausea.  I know I'm supposed to eat bread or crackers or what-not, but the last thing I feel like doing when I'm feeling that way is eating.  So, I muscle through it until I can tolerate putting something in my stomach.

I can tell my face is filling out.  Cheeks are a little rounder.  Eyes aren't as sunken as they usually are, even though I'm just as tired.  I'm not afraid of gaining too much weight.  I just hope I can handle the weight I do gain.  Usually, the lower back and groin muscles take the biggest toll.

The biggest problem right now is a heavy sense of anxiety.  And it scares me.  Naturally, I'm feeling much more vulnerable, so that leads to feelings of inadequacy.  Now is NOT the time to feel inadequate.

Trying to view this realistically...of course my moods are going to fluctuate with the raging storm of hormones.  My body is causing this, and not something I've done or haven't done.  There is no impending doom, no unpleasant consequences I'm about to face.

The fact of the matter is that I'm psychologically unprepared.  I know I'm more than capable of preparing, and I take great joy in summoning those skills I've learned over the years.  It's just the sheer hard work of talking myself up, getting out the tools I need, putting my plans into practice.  I'm so tired!  What if I don't do the job all the way?  What if I don't do the job the way I want to do it?  What if I fail???

I think the thing I need is a small victory.  A little reminder of what I'm made of.  I need to face a modest challenge and overcome it.

Like laundry.  For every load I do, another two take its place.  Usually, it takes a whole day to get through it all (because I can't do what a normal person does and do a little every day).  The thought of spending another dawn-to-dusk kicking my way through these piles has me shaking in my boots.  I'll be completely exhausted by the time I'm done with it all.

Yes, one can be so utterly exhausted she can't relax or sleep.  As Miner's buddies say offshore, "That's bad juju."

So what will I do now? Throw in a load of laundry before I go to sleep?

No. I'm going to take a scalding shower and hope it stings away every bit of tension in my body.  Then I'm going to sleep and try to follow through with laundry tomorrow morning.  I hope I hope I hope I'll be able to write that I did that.

Don't tell me what I NEED: On baby "stuff"

Pregnancy Migraines

I'm beginning to wonder if this pregnancy is going to be more intolerable than the other ones.  Or maybe the others were equally intolerable, but I was just too busy to notice?

Struggling with awful, awful headaches for the past three days.  The kind that wake you up in the night and won't let you go back to sleep.  I've been going through all the usual combat techniques I usually use to fight migraines:

• coffee (which is tough, because I can't even stomach a cup at the normal intervals)
• food
• rest/sleep in a dark, silent room.  

They all help for temporary relief, but the headache hasn't gone away entirely.  It lingers and lingers....

No Stomach for Food

The healthy food cravings have passed, too.  I don't crave anything now.  As a matter of fact, the last thing I feel like doing is eating, which I know is in no wise healthy.  Especially these first couple months when nutrition is crucial to early development.

I slacked off on taking my prenatal vitamins, because they'll make me sick if I don't take them with food, but eating's upset my stomach, too....  A "catch-22" of sorts.  I think I'm just gonna have to "woman-up" and eat and swallow those stinkin' vitamins whether they make me feel like hurling or not.  It's not trial by fire.

Don't tell me what I NEED:  On baby "stuff"

Bought a pregnancy magazine on impulse the other day, just to see what society (or the media representatives thereof) are saying about it these days.  I knew that wasn't a good idea, but I did it anyway.

Every. single. page. shows some company shoving "stuff" at me.  All sorts of gadgets and helping-tools that promise to make pregnancy and newborn care easier and more pleasant.

Maybe it's me -- I acknowledge this ahead of time -- but reading all those articles and ads telling me what I "need" really upsets me!  I don't know if it's anger or irritation or some bitterness of unknown origin or what, but it makes me cringe and eye-roll and grit my teeth.

First of all, every one of those gadgets cost a fortune.  Secondly, they go from being "nice-to-have's" to being "must-have's," so when moms get their hands on them, they think they're better off.

This really gets my goat, because I just don't think it's necessary to buy or have all these "things" that promise to make mothers better at their jobs!  And if a mother thinks she's better at her job for buying or having these things, then it makes sense a collective of buyer-havers begin to think the buy-not-have-nots are somehow worse off because they buy-not-have-not!

Yes, maybe there's a flaw in my thinking here, but the only way my thoughts could be proven or disproved would be through scientific research.  Even then, interviewees may not even be aware of their own motivations, just as I'm not 100% certain of mine.

But practically speaking (about money), gadgets COST, and I've done just fine through all the other pregnancies without some tool to help me through every step of the pregnancy-to-delivery-to-raising process.  I have my own two hands, and those hands are "handy" (pun pun) for arranging things the way I need them, or making things I feel I'm in need of.

Maternity clothes arrived today!

Maternity clothes from Gap arrived today.  I had no idea what was in the package because Miner shops for my clothes now (because he's the one with the superb taste in style, and I'm not too proud to admit my areas of weakness).

Two pairs of jeans fit perfectly.  Good thing, too, because I'm NOT going to do the rubber band thing anymore.

"Candy cane" sleep set was waaaaaaaay too big.  I mean, "square pants" way-too-big. Don't know what the deal is with that, but it's going back right away.

Velour hoodie (though I swore I'd stop wearing velour two years ago) is to-die-for comfy, and the gathers just under the bust are extra-flattering.  Good call.

Three long-sleeved tees were Mediums and too big. Gotta send those back, too. (And I bet I can find a better deal than $16.50 each.)

I think I'm definitely showing, which is no surprise to me.  Once I start sporting the maternity wear, it'll be obvious. Not that I'm itchin' to start sporting the maternity wear -- it's just...well...you know with new clothes and all.  And I am sick to death of feeling like a sausage with a string tied around it.

Spotting in the 1st Trimester?

Just about shocked me to death last night when I saw red streaks where there should have been none.

I'm 35. This is the 6th time around. I think that somehow increases our chances of a miscarriage, but I haven't allowed myself to dwell on that.  "Cross that bridge when/IF we come to it" -- that's the policy.

However, the spotting was not spontaneous.  During the course of "rigorous activity," we noticed the darker shade.  And it wasn't profuse.  The small amount I saw on the fabric was all there was, and no more.

So that tells me the source closed on its own.  If it were a miscarriage, the spotting would not have stopped, and it would've been accompanied by pain of some sort.  Neither happened.

Today, I feel fine.  No more spotting, no pain at all.  I'm chalking it up to "rigorous activity" and leaving it at that.

I did read that if a woman is prone to spotting in the 1st trimester, she might abstain from "rigorous activity" at least until the 12th week, when the probability of miscarriage decreases dramatically.

So, despite our protests and complaints, that is what we'll do.

The Wedding, Maternity Jeans, & Knitted "Soakers"

The Wedding

...was everything I imagined it to be and more.  The people who love us most -- our parents, our kids, and of course my very best friend in the whole wide world -- made the long drive to our house to witness Miner and I exchange our vows and finally become husband and wife after 14 very long years of "engagement."  It was beautiful.

The Justice of the Peace was a dear little Cajun man not much taller than me.  He had the softest, kindest eyes, and he seemed genuinely happy to be there doing what he was sworn to do for the City of Lafayette.  He knew what the occasion meant to us, and even if he's conducted hundreds and hundreds of ceremonies before ours, he led us through our vows and commitments as if it we were the only couple who have ever been in love in his district.  I couldn't have hand-picked a finer person to marry us.

Our rings are taking some getting used to.  Neither of us is accustomed to having anything on our fingers, but it's a delightful little habit.  Every time I glance down at my finger and see the shiny band there, I think to myself, "Mrs. Refiner...."

Shopping for Maternity Jeans

...has proven to be a lot more difficult than I'd anticipated.  Old Navy's having a great maternity sale right now, but unfortunately, their jeans are just not up to par.  The size I tried on -- which should fit me, according to the size chart -- just swallows me up!  Granted, I'm not even two months along yet, but still...I'd think at least the hips and thighs would fit.  Nope.

Instead, Miner ordered a few things from Gap, including jeans.  I hope at least the jeans fit, because my regular ones have gotten too uncomfortable.  I can barely snap them closed, and I really don't like the feeling of walking around with the fly undone.  Makes me feel like slob.

Knitted "Soakers"?

Thumbing through the latest issue of People magazine, I came across one of those "Got Milk?" ads.  Those ads are usually pretty unremarkable, but what caught my eye was what the infant in the photo had on over his diaper:  a knitted "soaker."

 
I'd never heard of a soaker until I came across the term while looking for baby bloomers knitting patterns.  Apparently, soakers have been around for quite some time.

I've already decided I'll have a nice supply of these by the time the baby's born.  They look so comfortable, and there's just something so wonderfully pure about natural fibers on a baby's skin.

Keen Nose, Current Cravings, & Now the Kids Know

The Smells! The Smells!

This heightened sense of smell is just about to do me in.  Anything deviating from the default fragrance of nothing either makes my stomach lurch, my throat clench, or gives me one heck of a migraine.

For instance, today, I gagged at the smell of...

• Ramen noodles
• the cat box
• the cat food
• Comet cleaner
• baking clay
• too many different kinds of candles in the candle aisle at Walmart

Strange thing about it all is that I've never exhibited this prenatal symptom before, not with any of the five pregnancies before.  Guess that just goes to show that every pregnancy is special, and one can never be surprised.

Current Cravings

• tommy toes (still)
• cottage cheese
• Babybel cheese wheels
• sharp cheddar cheese
• olives
• V-8 tomato juice
• 1/2 water, 1/2 lemon juice
• cucumber

I already have a difficult enough time with milk products, but now that I'm consuming them in larger quantities, I'm afraid my digestive system is going to completely freeze up.  Then where will I be?

To compensate, I bought a big jug of that good ol' standby, prune juice.  I don't mind the taste of prune juice at all.  Or the texture.  I actually like it every now and then.  (This is all coming from a woman who loves buttermilk.)  And that's a good thing, because prune juice is going to be my only saving grace.

Now the Kids Know

After dinner last night, we finally sat down all the kids in the living room and put it like this:

"On Saturday, we're getting married."

Stunned silence, wide eyes, some skeptical squints.

"Are you joking?" Priss asked.  She was entirely serious.

Moe threw her head back and stared at the ceiling.

"What's wrong?" I said.

"Nothing, I just think you're kidding."

"No, it's really going to happen this time.  We're having a wedding here at the house."

Then, squeals and lots of hugs and kisses.

Rocky was the only one who kept his seat and his calm.  He had one thing to say: "Yay, health insurance."

Disclosure, Kid-made Cake, & Rings

Telling the Kids

Okay, so Saturday's "The Day."  It's all set.  Both sets of parents are privy, but the kids are still in the dark.  Just one of those things when there's so much going on, a person can't get a word in edge-wise.

But tonight, perhaps over dinner or after dinner, Miner and I will sit down all five of them and say something like, "Well kids...we've all been waiting for this for a long time, and the time has finally arrived.  We're getting married this Saturday."

I foresee many giggles and gasps; the older ones will probably say something like, "It's about time!" or "Gee! I thought it'd NEVER happen!"

Then there will be lots of questions, and surely, Priss will run away with all the girly details like the dress and the cake.

And then we'll have to establish the fact this is a small affair without all the conventional bells and whistles, which we'll save for the "Big Wedding" down the road.  That will probably be disappointing for Priss, but there are plenty other details she can tend to.

Kid-made Cake

For instance...the cake.  Mom offered to buy us a wedding cake made to my specifications, but honestly?  What I really want is for the kids to be in charge of that.  They can work together to bake a cake here at home, ice it themselves, and even decorate it.

They'll even make the cake toppers.  Sculpy clay is the perfect medium for a little cake topper sculpture, and the kids sculpt so well.  They got clay and paints for Christmas, so whatever they come up with will not only serve as a centerpiece of the day, but also, a wonderful keepsake for all of us.  I giggle myself when I think of how happy they'll be to see their creation in the middle of the table instead of something store-bought.

Rings

No rings yet.  We know exactly what we want, but there's no way the rings will be resized in time for the ceremony on Saturday.  Instead, we're just going to get the closest appropriate sizes, bring them home for the ceremony, and then have them resized afterward.   Yeah, it's a slacker, rush-job kinda thing, but it doesn't bother me a bit!  I just want to have something on my finger.  We can worry about perfection later.

Mother-in-Law still doesn't have the 4-1-1

No, he didn't tell his mother about the baby, yet.  "There just wasn't a good time to do it."  (smile)  That very well may be, but I know he's just shaking in his boots and would rather she come upon that information through the power of clairvoyance or some such.  Perhaps seeing a sign in the crust of a bagel.

Monday Morning: Marriage License & Let the Cat Outta the Bag

Tomorrow morning, I'll be truckin' myself down to the Clerk of Court to obtain a License for Marriage.  In 84 or so hours, I'll be Mrs. Miner Refiner.

What changes will this bring?

For one, I won't be white-lying anymore when I say "...my husband..." or when I sign Lola Refiner on certain documents.

I'll actually have a ring.

The kids will finally be able to say their parents are married.

I can join the local Christian homeschooling association if I want to (though I'm perfectly happy in the one I'm in).

We'll finally be a one-surname household.

I do regret we couldn't wait to plan a wedding as we would've liked before it became official.  That will take a little of the sanctity out of the "real" wedding when it finally does come around.  And I'll have to wait another year or so before I'm back down to my pre-pregnancy size, because there's no way I'm going to wear a bridal gown while I still have a baby pooch.

And tomorrow, we tell the kids about little #6 on the way.  More than anything, I'll be thankful they finally know the truth why I've been so out of it lately, and maybe they'll take it upon themselves to help out more around the house.  I already feel guilty enough, not having the energy to keep up with routine.

Lastly, I've got to give myself a pat on the back for passing on the evening cup of coffee for the past couple nights.  How many years has that been part of my bedtime ritual.  Instead, I opted for hot chocolate, which really isn't much better in the way of nutrition (if it's made with hot water, as mine was tonight), but at least it's not coffee.  I was able to say "No" again.  It's a start.

The Other Shocking Development & Birthing Baby at Home

Choosing the Right Thing

1:00 AM, yet instead of brewing another cup of coffee and launching into the usual three-hour writing session, I made myself a plate of tuna casserole leftovers and a large glass of Carnation (chocolate) Breakfast which I'll use to wash down this huge prenatal horse pill along with 400 mcg of folic acid and 65 mg of iron. Huge improvement for me to choose the RIGHT thing in lieu of coffee.  One must understand.

The Other Shocking Development

If all goes as planned, Miner and I will be a legally married couple on Thursday.  Surprise, surprise.  It's been coming since '96.

It would've been sooner if we'd had the money for the ceremony we REALLY wanted.

It would've been later if we hadn't gotten pregnant again -- this month, no less.  Tax return was earmarked for engagement expenses.  No more.

Home Birth & Getting What I Want

Had coffee with a Supermom who had her baby at home, and she dispelled the notion I'd have to dispose of the placenta myself in the backyard.  No, that won't be necessary.  The midwife collects all biohazardous material for proper disposal and whisks it away to her magical biohazardous disposal place.

Also, if I have my own way and all goes according to plan...

• I won't need an IV.
• I won't need to maintain one rigid position flat on my back; I'll be able to move around freely as I wish.
• I won't be separated from my baby immediately after he/she's born.
• I won't be dismissed if I say, "This is gonna be quick. You better get ready to catch now."
• I'll be able to eat and/or drink what I want, when I want.
• The kids will be able to come and go as they're comfortable without being sequestered to a waiting area down the hall or told they can only come in one at a time.
• I'll be able to wear my own clothes (or none at all, if I so desire).
• I'll be able to sleep in my own bed...WITH Miner.
• I won't have to pay for stupid hospital incidentals that I have plenty of at home, simply because "it's policy."

Yes, I very much want to have this baby at home, and if we can work out the stinkin' insurance problem, I'll do just that.

Week 5, Day 1

New Symptoms:

• exaggerated gag reflex
• mood swings
• crying spells
• increased appetite
• cravings for Vitamin C
• muscle stitches

It's finally beginning to truly sink in. Symptoms are mounting and overcoming my denial.

Last night, I finished off the rest of the box of grape tomatoes, and I want another box.  This morning, I drank a tall glass of apple juice and wanted another.  Lemon water sounds divine right about now.  Good for general nourishment, but also great for my digestive system, which is historically unruly.

Climbing out of bed this morning, I felt that familiar stretch-and-tug in my abdomen.  My uterus is groaning in protest, "Nooo, I don't wanna!"

I have to be careful about moving too quickly.  Sometimes, the stretch-and-tug becomes a sharp stitch that takes my breath away.

And I have to be careful about not being too obvious about it.  We won't be telling the kids about the pregnancy until Monday, and if they notice me hobbling around like an old lady before they know what's going on, they'll immediately assume something is very, very wrong.  Then, they'll worry and worry, and they won't stop bugging me about going to see a doctor.

And speaking of doctors...

Home Birth

If it's at all financially possible, I definitely want to go the home birth route.  As it is, I know absolutely nothing about home birth.  Ideally, I'd just like to have a professional here with the family to get me through labor, do the delivery, clean up the kid, and make sure my pipes are in good working order.  Anything beyond that, we can handle just fine.

But whoever it is that we entrust with that job, we need to find them NOW.  I've got four weeks to make a commitment, and then it'll be time for my first exam.

Old Habits & New Curiosities

Some things I'll repeat with this baby:

• co-sleeping
• breastfeeding
• homeschooling

Other things I'm interested in exploring for this baby:

• Attachment parenting
• "baby-wearing"
• cloth diapers
• homemade baby food

Downer

Having a very difficult time with initial reactions.  Or rather, one of the initial reactions.

I don't blame him. He has a lot on his shoulders.  It's tough being the single source of familial income for such a large family.  I know the responsibility weighs heavily on him, especially when we're not the best budgeters in the world.

But he and I aren't the same when it comes to problem solving.  Difficulties, to me, are challenges to overcome.  I gain a lot of comfort and strength in resourcefulness, research, Plans A - Z.  Nothing is too difficult to handle, even if the solution is less than ideal.  Contentment comes easy to me.  The only thing I need to be happy is this family.

For him, difficulties are shameful and overwhelming.  It's tough for him to appreciate the positive when the negative -- to him -- is a big 'F' for "Failure" stamped on his forehead.  I don't think he got very much encouragement growing up.

Compassion dictates I temper my excitement and enthusiasm in order to help him deal with the pressure.  That hurts me.  But it also robs me of my joy, and that makes it ever harder to maintain my optimism.

I figure the best way to battle his pessimism is with productivity, so I cleaned and decluttered a wall of the bedroom today.  Next, I'll probably go through my side of the closet to get rid of all the clothes and shoes I won't be needing for a while.

Before February's over, the big problem I'd like to solve is that gawd-awful wallpaper border around the top perimeter of the bedroom.  It's been here since we moved in, and it's been last priority, because we always put ourselves last.

Josie (best friend) taught me a fabulous way to "renew" a room.  Simply by rearranging furniture and adding a couple dollar-store touches, like candles or some new framed photos.

There's no way I can rearrange the furniture, but I'm determined to get that tacky border off of the walls.  I'll have to do some research to figure out the best way to remove it (and the glue residue), but that's yet another proactive task on my list: research.

In the meantime, I think I'll head over to Lala.com and listen to "Don't Bring Me Down" (Electric Light Orchestra) five or twenty times.

The + in the Little Window

So the story begins like just about any other.

A week late was really no cause for concern.  Hypothyroidism wreaks havoc on ovulation.  Often, thyroid disease and infertility go hand-in-hand, so it's been no surprise to me when Aunty Flo visits a week early or a week late or only pops in for a day or two.  I finally accepted pregnancy was nothing short of an impossibility.  At least I treated it that way.  It was easier than hoping.

January really hasn't been much different than every other month.  Maybe a few symptoms here and there that gave me pause: tingling breasts, fatigue that laid me out in the middle of the day (once, at a table in the library, and I didn't even wake up when my friend and her children joined us), gagging over dirty dishes, headaches.

I chalked up to run-of-the-mill PMS, like the terrible lower back pain.  And the moodiness.  Nothing that would really jump up at me and wave a big, yellow flag.

But on the seventh day of checking the nether-regions and finding no trace, I caved and bought the cheapest, one-shot EPT I could get my hands on (in addition to groceries for the next two weeks).

When I got home, I didn't even wait to put the groceries away.  I went straight to the bathroom and peed on the damn stick.  I watched the off-white moisture soak through the cotton and across the little windows where the result would show, and I watched the little window on the left slowly reveal a deep violet vertical line.

Now that can't be right.

I checked the legend: + Pregnant... - Not Pregnant

Okay, well what are the chances of a false-positive?

I read the instructions:  "The +/- version of the EPT pregnancy test is 99% accurate from as soon as the first day of your missed period."

What are the chances I'm the unlucky 1%?

I checked the legend again.  I studied the photos on the box.  I reread the instructions.  I accepted the results.  At least for the moment.

I didn't cry or whoop or hyperventilate, though I'd feel justified had I done any or all of them.  I'm 35 years old, for crying out loud.  Squeak's just now getting to the age when she's just about 100% self-sufficient.  I haven't changed a diaper in years.  Sometimes, I wonder if I still know how.

So instead of crying or whooping or hyperventilating, I calmly returned to the kitchen to put the groceries away.  Then I cooked dinner.  Then I ate dinner.  In between each task, I returned to the bathroom to look at the little window again, and then the legend, and then the instructions.  The result hasn't changed.

The fact of the matter is...I'm pregnant -- 4 weeks, physically; 12 hours, psychologically.

---

Miner called me from offshore after I left him a poignant message after dinner.

"Well," he said, after a very protracted pause.  "That's...unexpected."

Well-no-schit, it's unexpected.  I would've liked to have said that, but instead, I said, "Yeah, I'll say."

It sounds awful that our first reactions and our combined first reactions weren't ecstatic and joyfully tearful, but one must understand...we're older parents coming off of almost eight years out of nursery mode.  We've grown accustomed to talking about things like college for the kids and retirement for us.  The last thing we thought 2010 would hold for us was a baby.

However...beneath the practicality of shock and denial, there flows a river of pure and unadulterated gratitude.  God knows how much I've longed for another child.  He's held the desire of my heart in His hands.  He's let me cry and He's comforted me when I thought another baby was a gift not meant for me.  He turned my attention elsewhere and assured me I'd be happy and fulfilled even if the door to maternity was closed forever.

And He's given me grace when I haven't handled our as-is household to the best of my ability.

I read somewhere that God blesses you with more when you learn to care for what you have.  He blesses frugality, humility, dedication, generosity.  I feel I've possessed these values at my core, but I know as well as He does that I haven't always been good for my word.  As a matter of fact, my word has been my weakness just about all my life.

So why has He seen fit to bless me so abundantly?

The only answer is grace.  I am in no wise deserving.  But I accept His grace and again acknowledge his unending, unconditional love for me.  Joyfully, whole-heartedly, open-armedly, I accept it.

It's been seven years since a little life unfolded inside me, but for the sheer wonder of it all, it feels like the very first time.