Waitin' for my rocket to come

DAMN IT! So, long story short, I thought I was leaking amniotic fluid (I wasn't), got sent to the hospital again, and the internal they had to do to check it has now set off the baby on the kicking spree from hell. My only hope at this point is that her karate skills will actually rupture the membranes and she'll arrive. If not, then I'm just in for misery as a result of me trying to look out for her. AGH!

Blue, baby, blue

Ok, so now I can't stop crying. My mom and sister just left after visiting for a few blissful days, and I'm bawling like a baby. I have been so good about putting on a brave face for the last 9 months, but going back to normal now that the family has come and gone and the hormones are raging, the mask is off and I'm a big, blubbering baby.

The visit was absolutely wonderful- don't get me wrong. They got in early afternoon on Wednesday, and we got some lunch, walked the mall and hung out a little at my place. I had busted my butt getting the duplex presentable, staying up till like 5 am the night before cleaning compulsively, so it was rewarding to show off all the hard work I've put into this place. It's not perfect, but I'm proud of it. They brought me a birthday present, too! A beautiful purple sewing box with all the fixings. I was so excited I made Ava a dress that night- though it was too small, and I initially forgot to leave openings for holes. I guess that's what I get for not using a pattern. Oh well- if at first you don't succeed...

Yesterday we had the doctor's appointment. At first, the nurse said they couldn't come in, but after I begged, pointing out that they had driven all the way from Chicago, they were able to stay for the first part of the appointment and hear the heartbeat. The look on their faces was well worth the wait. After they were ushered out, the doctor did the internal exam, and said I was 1 centimeter dialated, 70% effaced, and the baby was in position and ready to go. She also guesstimated that the baby is about 7 lbs! What this means, functionally, is that she's a-comin'.

Well, as soon as I told my mom all of this, the day became about ways to try to get me to go into labor while she was in town :) We visited the speech office, went shopping for nursing bras, and eventually wound up relaxing at their hotel for awhile while the boy worked out some issue with our car (long story). Once he had all of it sorted out, we met up and went for a hike at the nearby Lost River Cave. Sweaty and tired, we decided to refresh by grabbing a Starbucks (shaken iced tea lemonade for me!) and swimming at their hotel pool. The water felt wonderful with the baby, but then her mood took a turn. It was almost like she could sense the visit was coming to an end, and she started trying to push her way through my pelvic floor. Of course, while baby may have wanted to meet Grandma Nelson, my body wasn't quite ready for it, so all she succeeded in was making me uncomfortable. My mom was thoroughly amused, because all of her pushing resulted in her little butt being jutted out of my stomach. Funny in theory, perhaps- but not in practice!

Once the pains had subsided a bit, we all went to our places and got ready for dinner at the Outback. Not only was the food great, but it was nice to just kick back and relax together. As the night drew to a close, we were all a little reluctant to say goodbye, so my mom made it easier by proposing breakfast for this morning. While the boy had to work, I was glad to have one more chance to hang out before they returned for Chicago.

Unfortunately, we were all so wiped out from the past couple of days that we all overslept, and by the time everyone was ready to go, they needed to hit the road in order to avoid really bad traffic on the way back. They came over to say goodbye for a few minutes, and I kept the incoming tsunami of tears back as they headed out the door. I know that it was hard for my mom to begin with, and I didn't want to make things more difficult. As soon as the front door was closed, though... I lost it.

It's not that I regret moving down here, or the baby, or any of it. I love the man I'm with, I love this baby so much it hurts, and I'm proud of how much I've accomplished on my own. Still, it's not easy. I've been kind of anti-social by nature, and the end result has been keeping most people at arm's length. While sometimes this practice has been self-preservation, now I'm just very lonely, and very pregnant, and missing my family very, very much. If I wasn't ready to pop, I would just drive home at times like these for a few days or a week, but as it stands, I'm just kind of stranded and helpless. My mom laughed when I said I wanted to try to drive home with the baby over labor day weekend, but I was dead serious. All I know is something's gotta give before my sanity does.

I wish Ava were here.

Getting to the finish line

Yay! Ava is medically, officially full term as of TODAY! Woohoo! That means a few things. One, my uterus has done its job and she has grown to be a healthy, viable baby, so I didn't screw up too badly anywhere along the line. Two, they for sure won't stop labor if it starts now, barring some unforseen event. Woohoo! Good things, good times, and really, good grief. Now it's just a big ole waiting game (hah, like it wasn't before).

The past two days, she has been fairly quiet, actually. There was a one or two week period there where she was really active, all the time. I wrote it off to her getting cramped and tired of small spaces. At first I was worried about the inactivity, but my grandma said that as long as she is still moving sometimes, it's totally normal. It's just gotten to the point that she doesn't even have enough room to kick me- which is fine by me! Less pain and more of a chance she'll get sick of it all and push off. My grandma also said that quiet days usually directly proceed labor. Also fine by me. Kind of. Sort of. My nesting, however hardcore it may be, is also intermittent, so I'm not entirely ready. However, given that my mother is descending upon our new place tomorrow for the first time, we'll have to be good to go at that point, so I'm not too worried.

Still, I don't know that all the planning and preparation in the world can ease all of the fears. After my last post about some of the things I'd been freaking out about, a few people reached out to calm me down (much appreciated, by the way). That's actually helped with a lot of the logical, immediate concerns I've had. Unfortunately, my mind, I guess, is still ill at ease, because once the dreams begin when I go to bed, it's a nightmarish roller coaster. I've dreamt of indentured servitude, the baby being born with a tumor on her eye, rolling over on the baby, the boy's brother's girlfriend being rushed to the emergency room (there's a mouthful for ya!), and not being able to find the baby after letting someone hold her for a bit. NOT fun stuff to wake up thinking about. Still, at least the "boy leaving me" scenario has been tabled. If he's in the dreams ever these days, he's super supportive. Kind of like real life :)

Actually, the other night I was really feeling ill, and he was a super hero. It had started earlier in the day when I began feeling kind of weak. I just figured I was hungry because, well, I can always eat these days, plus I'd been cleaning and reorganizing things in the living room all afternoon. I ate a little bit, felt a little bit better, and then started getting hot flashes and the chills. At that point, I thought maybe I was getting dehydrated again, so I started drinking more water. Unfortunately, by the time I went to bed, I felt even worse. I thought I might throw up, explode, give birth, or all three at once. There were nausea pains paired with false labor pains, and I was most certainly in tears. We'd been trying to watch an episode of Weeds, but I just couldn't do it anymore.

The boy was great though. He walked me to the shower to make sure I didn't fall (I was feeling pretty dizzy), and then waited in the bathroom to make sure I was ok. I told him he didn't have to, that I'd call if I needed help, and he merely replied, "You feel bad, and I can't do anything to help you feel better. This is the closest to doing something that I'm going to get. Let me do it." He genuinely cares about me and the baby, and it's moments like that, where he could have just gone to bed and let me deal with my misery (as I'm rarely good company when in such pain. Think Medusa on some kind of crack) but chooses to endure my sniping instead, just to be near me, that I realize how lucky I am to have someone who cares so much about me. I don't know what I did to deserve such a wonderful man, but I am beyond thankful.

Well, I suppose I better get back into nesting mode again before I start work. Here's to Ava being medically certified to be alive!

If you don't have anything nice to say, pt. 2

So, I'm aware that posting twice in one day is pretty lame, but I'm running out of steam to clean and fired up over that dumb pregnancy forum scuffle. Oi vey. I do sound like a desperate housewife, huh?

In any case, if you've been reading, you know I let some old biddies have it on a pregnancy forum I frequent from time to time. I guess that's not fair- how about inconsiderate biddies? Anyways, the initial responses were kind of a scrambled type of defense, but they soon realized that they weren't making a whole lot of sense so the situation fizzled out with the a member proposing that we all just let it go. Her proposal stood strong for several days, but then the calvary rode in. Three or four other women got on talking about how much they agreed, and how ridiculous these other women were. One of the mean ones got on and said something about it being a matter of opinion and how dare we try to suppress their opinions with ours, etc., etc. One of her friends got back on shortly thereafter, talking about how sick she and others are of hearing about stupid 15 year olds who will never learn unless a hard line is taken.

Well, as you can imagine, this got my blood boiling a little bit. I pointed out that these may all be opinions, but that the validity of an opinion can be weighed via warrants and evidence, of which some of these women had none. I also pointed out that there was no need to respond to the 15 year old girls who likely had no real knowledge of birth control to begin with if they can't keep their comments civil. Moreover, before they feel the need to dole out judgment, they should take into consideration that their comments have just as much validity as allegations that pregnancy past a certain age are irresponsible because of the risk of birth defects, or arguments that say having more than x amount of kids are irresponsible. If they wouldn't like being the target of comments like that, then perhaps they should keep their mouths shut.

It turns out that the original poster in this whole mess has been through much more than any of us originally knew, and the more recent posts responding to her situation have been far more kindly and patient. Some of these women being understanding now are the same ones that were originally so dismissive. Maybe I got through to a few of them.

You know, my sister routinely chides me for trying to save the world. I don't think I do. I just get really pissed when people pick on others who don't really have the ability to fight back. Some of these cruel posters will never change their ways, and I know I'm wasting my energy talking to them, but if this poor 17 year old girl gains a little comfort from knowing someone is in her corner, it's worth it. I'm no saint, I can't save the world, but I can try to make it a little better, right?

Happy Little Housewife

I am in hardcore nesting mode. However, I'm having a problem deciding whether this is due to the impending arrival of my daughter, or the impending arrival of my mom. That's right, the original Mama Nelson is coming to town on Wednesday. I know for some people, parents spell out judgment day, and at one time, I'd probably have agreed, but now... I can't wait to see my mom. Realistically, there is little she's actually going to DO, but I want to show her the new place, the baby's room, the place I'm delivering at, etc. It will be nice to hang out with her, especially since I don't really have any girlfriends around here.

But anyways- back to nesting, since it's all I can think about anyways. I really want this baby to come into a home... not a work in progress. So all the "progress" that I've been putting off (read: work) is now all-consuming. Yesterday I organized the hallway closet, hung mirrors and picture frames, decided I didn't like what was in one of the frames and painted a new picture to go in it, wiped down walls, did dishes, painted wall hangings for Ava's room, etc., etc. It already looks much more home-y, but I'm far from done. My To Do list is 2 pages long, and it will likely grow as time goes on. Perhaps this is not so out of character though... I always have a never-ending To Do list...

I did make the boy his own To Do list yesterday, but it's what to do in case of labor! It's likely the pain will make me more of a control freak than ever, allowing me to complete the majority of the necessary tasks myself, but in the event that I am so incapacitated, he has everyone's phone numbers and the locations of important information and items (maternity bag, diaper bag, etc.), so there will be no excuses :) Well I mean, there will be, he'll be about to be a father and most likely losing his mind, but we'll make it. He's been really cute lately- just walking into the baby's room and rocking in the glider. He talks to her more too; it's adorable!!

Well, time to go continue refining the nest. Hope Ava likes it!

Mental Fireworks

So I know most people get that super strong, nearly magnetic draw to family around times like Christmas and Thanksgiving, but for me, it's the fourth of July. It may be due to old memories. Every fourth of July, my dad would acquire some kind of illegal explosive to amuse the kids with and scare the hell out of my mom with, and we'd run around like banshees until late in the evening. Some of my more humorous childhood experiences revolve around this holiday, so it's no surprise I'm nostalgic.

It's not just nostalgia, though. It seems like everyone is staged for a family polaroid right about now. Perusing the Facebook feeds, I see pictures from parades and weddings and the whole shebang just makes me feel giddy. Don't get me wrong, I'm kind of glad Ava isn't here yet- I have a feeling the fireworks would make for a very looonnnng evening indeed- but it does make me look forward to her arrival even more. Next year, it will be us posing at the local parades, smiling behind large sunglasses and eating the Cracker Jacks that my Grandma Schmitt insisted on for every parade. It will be us cooking out while she splashes in a wading pool with her dad, and finds wonder in the sparks flying out of the end of a multicolored stick that will make my heart freeze in worry as her hand reaches out to grab its luminosity. It will be us standing by anxiously to see if fireworks delight or instill fright in our little one.

I guess I'm just in a good mood today. Not gonna knock that, though.

If you don't have anything nice to say...

When I first found out I was pregnant, I was scared witless. I think most women who are my age, unmarried, still in school, etc., would have a similar reaction. I was petrified that my family would reject me and that I would face harsh criticism from friends. Now, suffice to say, as evidenced by my prior posts, I faced no such rejection. However, I still remember the chilling uncertainty that laid before me.

It was at this time that I started turning to online forums to get some basic advice and information. I had no insurance aside from my parents', and I was wondering if prenatal care was a necessity, or really just a common practice that had grown out of cautious ways. I learned very quickly that prenatal care was very necessary, especially given the health complications I was facing. Some people were very sweet in their replies to my queries; others called me selfish for even considering an alternate route to the delivery date. I didn't post on those sites for much longer.

However, an abundance of time and concerns about the impending labor have drawn me back to these sites. Many of the posts are totally innocuous, and the majority of the users are just looking for answers and to support one another. Unfortunately, that is not always the case.
I stumbled across the case of a 17 year old girl. She had gotten pregnant and decided she couldn't keep the baby. She considered a surgical abortion, but was ultimately administered the pills for a medical abortion. She took the first one, and was given four more to take. She soon began to doubt her decision, and ultimately decided that she wanted to have the child. She did not take the rest of the pills. Her first post dealt with whether or not the child would have birth defects because of her initial reaction, and if there was any way to tell in advance. Sadly, she miscarried not long after.

Regardless of the circumstances, the loss of a desired child strikes me as a tragedy that I don't know I'd be strong enough to handle. I didn't think the girl was bright, by any means, but I understood her initial fear and felt for her loss. Her post at that point was heartfelt, as she lamented her judgment, and stood amazed by how much one could hurt over a child that they'd only known about for several weeks.

The first responses were condolences. Then started the attacks. Several women dismissed the sympathy, saying she didn't deserve any attention, she was just an immature child, and she had gotten an abortion. While many of the original respondents conveyed their continued support, the assailants continued to attack her character.

I was sick to my stomach over what I had read, but the straw that broke the camel's back came with the girl's 3rd thread. She stated that she and her boyfriend had had unprotected sex, and she wanted to know if she could be pregnant again so soon after miscarriage. Never in the post did she state or imply that she was interested in an abortion. The first response or two after her post told her that she could be, but that it was dangerous, and that she should be careful. Then the prior assailants reappeared. One slammed, "She's just a child. She shouldn't be having sex, let alone thinking about having a child herself."

That did it for me. Don't get me wrong, I don't really think the girl should be having a kid right now, either. However, I know that people probably thought/think the same thing about me. It is not my place, or anyone's, to judge, especially on an online forum where many girls without hope may turn to seek some guidance.

You may not think someone is mature enough to be having sex. You may not think they're ready for children. If they aren't asking for your opinion on the subject, though, then who are you to provide it so curtly? I just don't understand it. The condescending tone that these women took was appalling, especially because their comments were justified by self-righteous disclaimers about wanting to help and having wisdom via their age. I have no doubt that these women could be fountains of information. Unfortunately, nada one actually answered her questions about her body and the situation she was facing. How sad.

I made the decision that was right for me. I don't regret it for a second. I'm not naive, though; I know there are people who believe I chose unwisely, be it prior to or after conception. I was so lucky to be surrounded by enough loving people to write off the nay-sayers. I can only pray that this girl I stumbled across can find the same.