Have a baby

• pregnancy amnesia – check. Lately, I have left my bicycle keys in the lock a number of times. Luckily nobody seemed inclined to knick a bakfiets spontaniously, so, amazingly, we still have family transport.
• mood swings, grouchiness, tears and whinging – check.
• nice hair and nails – check. Well, “nice”? “Fuller”, maybe… definitely reduced hair loss
• heart burn – check frequent but not too much
• “morning” sickness – check HELL YES! Often, throughout the day, unexpected but by now oh, so familiar: the wretching re-fle-fle-fle-flex!!! Especially when I am changing Torin’s diapers.
• belly aches when baby, food and intestines compete for space
• weird sensations in the nether regions, extreme fluctuation in the libido department
• frequent weeing of tiny quantities
• pelvic joints becoming soft and achy
• leg cramps at night
• achy feet

Yet, I feel awesome! My little girl (we know, so why not you?) is quite active, moving and doing her li’l thing. Every once in a while I feel her knocking or pushing into some of my innards. My placenta is in the front, so it takes a while before dad can feel her, but I think any day now he should be able to also feel a little tap below my belly button. Sooooo nice!

I am doing this again. We have reached week 14 and I am still getting nauseous on a nearly daily basis. Only this morning I told bf that I though I was over the retching, he leaves the house, 20 seconds later I am yelling at the ceramics. Caught a whiff from the trash, which contains the leftovers from Torin’s melon fest. Melon is evil. The fridge reaks of it, I can’t stand it!!!
Anyway, this afternoon I am off to the midwife again for a check up and hopefully good results for my bloods from last week. I also want my “pregnancy declaration” for work, so I can tell HR. My manager knows already, and I am showing because this is my second, and boy, does this body remember being round! Fell straight back into the role.
But I am happy as Larry and hope everything continues to be peachy. Just no melons please!!!

_{Yes. 4w3d. ETA 03-08-10. This is classified information.}

I said so still on the table, right after giving birth to my son Torin. He is 7 1/2 months old now, the ol’ factory has started humming again, and I was already hopeful, but alas. Strange how getting your period can be so annoying when once or twice in my lifetime, I was begging the universe to let me get it and not be pregnant. Well, now it’s upside-down week and after doing 3 tests, stating that I don’t believe it until I see it, every time it turned out negative and the damn test window stayed bloody white instead of getting a pink stripe, I now have gotten my period and I am everything but happy about it. Especially since a lot of things about me pointed in the direction if possibility: mood swings, inexplicable sadness and teariness, etc. But not yet, not yet.
The first time, I got pregnant on our first attempt. Bull’s Eye, straight away. Now, just getting my period once when I was sure I was pregnant is like a massive slap in the face and I can only imagine what other people have to go through, month after month. It’s been only once and I hated it SO MUCH!
Better luck next month. Keep your fingers crossed, as I’ll be crossing mine for you gals out there!

I had my BABY nearly 7 weeks ago. He’s healthy, growing like crazy, adorable and my “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy” (tm John Lennon).
HAVING a baby (in the house) is a whole different experience altogether. We are keeping a diary about all his feedings (bottle or breast, how much), his nappys (when, what and sometimes how much, colour and, ahem, consistency), giving vitamines, tantrums and his first diaper rash. There is lots to keep track of as he can’t tell you when was the last time he had a mouthful of delicious mothers milk. He’ll spit it all over me, the furniture without warning, though. Burped or not. There are colics to be comforted away (impossible!) and round cheeks to be kissed excessively.
I see him from here and want to quit the internet altogether right now. I have a household to run, tons of things to do and still want to enjoy his first months before I have to return to work. My mind is flying, sleepless nights (last night he was a handfull) and the constant thirst and nipple-outch are catching up with me.
I love being Torin’s mom and am still awaiting his first social smile. Eagerly. So far he smiles only when he is doing a pissie. All over dad, at times.
You see, I am completely incapable to write a normal entry as my thoughts are all over the shop. And now he’s asleep and I missed another priceless chance to look into his amazing eyes.
I am SO totally in love.

Please don’t be disappointed that I will not post 1.000 pics on public sites as 43T, as my son also has a right to his privacy. We are happy that Torin is doing well. He was born 4 weeks premature and is currently still in the neonatology ward at the hospital, but no longer in an incubator. He is still a bit weak and drowsy, he’s got jaundice and does not breastfeed yet (hence the tube through which he is fed if he can’t finish his bottle), but with a little patience we will also achieve this and hope to bring him home, soon!

After my waters had broken about 2 weeks ago (without me realising), I went on and did my thing until Monday afternoon, when I felt pain in my lower back and the colour of the liquid I was leaking turned a shade of bright pink. So we called the midwife, who came to see us and sent us off to hospital.
Tuesday and Wednesday went on OK, still had that painful feeling of a strong menstruation, but only when I went to take a shower on Thursday morning around 10:15 which felt suspiciously good, I realised that I was losing way more water at a much stronger pace than before.
Back in my bed, I was put on a monitor and since it didn´t register any contractions, I took a phone call from a friend, which turned into a bizarre conversation about wine and stuff, with me starting to contract in between. They told me to hang up, so I called my bf to come over and see us.
All of a sudden 3 or 4 carers were grouping around the bed constantly, disagreeing on whether my bits should be covered or watched, depending on old school Ingrid or learner doctor what´s-her-name. God, there were so many!
I got moved into the maternity ward and all of a sudden, when I really started contracting and sounding my barbaric yawps, I was told that there were 3 other births going on around me. I said: “Don´t leave me alone”, but the midwife said she´d have me on the monitor in the next room “as well”, and left.
God, there was nobody with me for what felt like 20 minutes! I even yodeled “Where the fuck is everyone?!?” from the top of my voice, but when the midwife came back, (I was dilated 6.5 cm at that time) she just asked my if my man was on the way (“Give me my phone again!!”) I rang him in the middle of a contraction. He laughed and told me that he was cleaning the computer speakers to hook up my ipod (Thanks to Dead Can Dance!) when he´d get there and all I could do was yell down the line “Fuck! That! Get! Here! Now! Now! Now!” and hung up on him. 20 minutes later, he was there and just could not do anything right from my POV until it was all over. Poor man of mine! He either massaged my feet the wrong way, or dared to move my leg, or he laughed at my intensely loud “HAAAAAAAAA”´s I was sounding to get through the dilation contractions, the poor soul just wasn´t prepared for the intensity of it all. Neither was I, but choice does a girl have? When I felt the urge to push, I was told I was fully dilated and tried 5, 6, 7, 8 pressure contractions, but had a really hard time shutting up my voice and stopping my screams and turn them into pushing. It took the midwives to practically yell at me that I should do what they told me, the baby didn´t like being half-way out, and I should not make any goddamn sounds anymore. I yelled I was afraid and the woman was like “What are you afraid of?” And I was like “Do you want a profound psychological discussion with me right now?!?” (I think at that point, my voice changed into the deamonic tone like in “The Exorcist”, I was feeling so incredibly angry with the world) I just was afraid I could not do the job right then and there. Bf yelled at me to get a grip and be strong. So I pushed until I felt my eyes popping out and my face explode, but he still wouldn´t get over the threshold. So they decided to cut me (me: “NONO!”), I didn´t feel the cut at all and woooosh! He was out, he was out on my chest, warm, soft and wonderful, and as we know now, healthy and without infections.
He is TORIN, Irish-Gaelic for chieftain, and ARNE, Germanic for eagle, because he flew into my arms in under 4 hours.
I love him more than life itself and I´m off now to try and produce some milk.
Stay tuned for more details, photos and motherly love punched into the oldest pc in the universe.

• that Beanie can and will stick around for at least another couple of days
• that if we need to be induced, my acupuncture lady can do the trick so I don´t need to take any chemical stuff
• that I can stop feeling sorry for myself…

An update will follow here when possible, good night!

We really are on the home stretch. Stretch literally, as my belly feels like it’s going to blow any day. Beanie has turned and is in “engagement”, so all the yoga I did and all the yoga I planned on doing and didn’t because I was too lazy seem to have invited him into the upside-down position everybody hopes for.
I have written down a lot of movement times of our little one and he seems to be moving about every 1.5 hours at average. He seems to be fond of my cycling to and from work, he moves a lot when I am on my bike.
Unfortunately, nobody (especially my own body) is happy with my working for another week, so I see what i can do about leaving earlier than Friday. If my boss isn’t happy, I will play it by ear, it all depends on how the job goes tomorrow (6 projects hopefully coming to a closure in one day!), and then we shall see.
Working certainly has not helped with the water retention in my extremities, Thursday evening, my yoga teacher was really shocked by my elephantitis. I originally was recommended to drink nettle leaf tea, which didn’t do much for me. It seems though that the combination of acupuncture and tincture of equisetum arvense (horsetail), a recommendation of my pharmacist cousin, together with spending almost the whole weekend with my feet up has helped a great deal. I can flex my toes upwards now, without having puffy flesh on the tops of my feet in the way, and one can actually tell where my knees and ankles are. That’s a first in a week.
I am so looking forward to stopping with work. I want to get some more work done on my baby quilt, if not finish it (I am not going to plan that as I don’t want to disappoint myself if I can’t manage in time), I also want to make a belly cast. Apart from that, I am not making plans for the (hopefully) four work-free weeks to come after this one, before Beanie decides to make his big entrance into the outside world.
Since my health was such an issue before the week-end, emotional strain and swollen legs, hands and face were indicating that my kidneys, liver and spleen are being strained, I have decided not to attend Granny’s funeral tomorrow. The journey to and from my parent’s place probably would have been too much, my immune system is not used to any of the germs my family have and I always catch something when I travel there. So everybody tried their best to talk me out of going, and in the end I decided that this would be the best decision for my child’s sake. So I am proud of being there for my baby, not for myself and I pat myself on the shoulder for doing the right thing.
When I come home after work, I will light a candle for Omi and try to send her off on my own. I miss her already, but Beanie is the new life my mom mentioned and needs to be protected from possible pregnancy complications.
Through this pregnancy I am learning a lot about myself, including that “being strong” is not always the best alternative, and that admitting that help is needed is a good thing. I have a hard time coming to terms with my weaknesses and would like to pretend that I can do anything, but for Beanie’s sake, I have to accept that this body is not only my residence, but his, temporarily, too. Maybe it’s because this has been an easy pregnancy so far that I am only learning to accept this, now, but better late than never.

Today, I’ve visited the midwife, and we have discussed a few important things.
Over the last 4 days, my ankles have nearly doubled in size and I’ve lost visible proof of having any bones in my legs, from the knees down, everything is one swollen mass.
I have gotten an appointment for acupuncture to help with this, I also am supposed to put up my legs and walk around.
I’ve also got an appointment for a position scan, as the midwife wasn’t so sure anymore whether Beanie is properly upside down. I will tease him later in life about not being able to tell his head from his arse, which is the problem midwife Constance ran into today.
My hormonal crying fits and extreme guilt feelings towards my work team and my baby have lead not only my yoga teacher and group, but also my midwife to tell me officially to take it easy.
I’ve proposed working half days for the next two weeks, my last working weeks before I can go on my pregnancy leave. After discussing this with my manager I am quite happy that she doesn’t have a prob with that.
Travelling to Germany for my granny’s funeral is still a possibility, Constance is OK with it if I feel I’m up for it.
My iron level was tested last week and is really good, so is my blood pressure.
Low sugar and low fat foods are mandatory now, not because of me but baby is growing strong and might get too big too quickly.
I also need to keep a diary about baby’s movements, as I can’t tell for sure how often he stirs anymore. I paid him so little attention that he’s probably figured that if Mommy ain’t listening, why move? So he’s really quiet when I am at work, and that’s so sad and I am so disappointed with myself.
On a happier note, my belly button is still being stretched, but luckily hasn’t popped out, yet, as I find outtie belly buttons rather yukkie. I’m like P Diddy, who gets freaked out about women’s second toe being longer than their big toe. I have an aversion to outtie BBs. I prefer innies and have always loved mine.
While writing all of this, Beanie has kicked me twice, so I am already cheering up and seeing things less panicky, but I am also glad that I’ve taken some more responsibility for Beanie and me, as I should.