Saturday, June 26, 2010

Our Lion Judah

So...we decided to name the baby.......(drum roll please)........

Judah!

One day the spouse and I were throwing out Biblical name possibilities, Abraham, David, Zebediah (uh, no way), Isaiah, etc, and then he said, "Judah?"

And we both felt something lock into place.

We like that it's one of those unique names (does anyone know a Judah?) that doesn't sound like it's going WAY out of its way to be unique. And it's a strong name--the tribe of Judah carries the bloodline of the Kings of Israel, including THE King of Israel, Christ himself, the Lion of Judah.

And, just to add a dash of multicultural superstitious fate--the baby will be born a Leo in the Year of the Tiger. If that doesn't scream, big, power-cat, I don't know what does.

So today, my awesome friend extraordinaire, Peg, threw me a lion-safari-themed baby shower, replete with little animals everywhere.


There were the lip-smacking Lion of Judah cupcakes from Teacakes.


And the adorable jungle-animal sugar-cookies from Winnie--almost too cute to eat.


Down to the little animal-shaped pasta in the pen holders!


Some scenes from the crime:

Marianne is scandalized that baby Sydney's not wearing any pants--Don't they teach decency in nursery anymore?!


Marianne asks Mere if she's scandalized by pant-less infants and Mere's like--well, it depends...


An adorable diaper cake courtesy of Mere and Rachel. Baby Sydney is a girl after my own heart--loves shoes!


Peg pretends she didn't know I was pregnant until today.


Thanks ladies for celebrating the coming of our little lion with me!

Friday, June 18, 2010

My Everloving Spouse

Me: Doulas are supposed to help the mom during birth. They massage you and stuff.

Spouse: That's nice. I'm so sore from sitting in front of the computer all day. Maybe I can have your doula massage me too, you know, while you're in labor.

Me: *exasperated look*

Speaking of which, I've been thinking and learning all about labor and delivery lately, now that the big day is fast approaching.

Of course it goes without saying that the whole ordeal freaks me out. Mostly, I can't believe how much my, um "skin" will have to stretch to accommodate the, uh, yeah, let's leave it at that.

How is that humanly possible?

And yet, millions of women have done it for millions of years, yeah, yeah. So I've been told. That seems to be the number one thing people like to say to comfort a first-time-freaked-out 8 month preggo. And it's a little comforting.

Until you also realize that millions of women for millions of years have been experiencing excruciating pain during the whole process too. And that's the crux for me--the pain.

So now I'm devoting much of my birth prep to pain management--breathing techniques, scents to smell, soothing music (think 8-hour playlist of Enya), acupressure, whatever it takes. I'm on a mission to gain zen-like mastery over the ultimate discomfort. Okay, maybe not zen-like, but at least some level of tolerance that doesn't make me want to reach out and hurt someone. Poor spouse.

Maybe, in the end, I'll even let him borrow my doula...in between contractions.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Pwnage #5: Oh maternity leave, how I long for you

It started Thursday. I thought I could go to Bible study in the evening, but just as I was leaving the office at 5:20pm the client sent us the draft. Perfect timing! (for ruining my plans).

I worked until 10:30 that night on the draft. The funny thing is, all throughout the day, I was forecasting to the spouse whether or not I could make it to the Bible study. The morning started with a 90% chance No :-(. Then around 4pm I realized my workload was lighter than I thought and it became 90% Yes :-)! And then at 5:20, it was 100% No. I'm more volatile than the Dow! Heck, than the market of the least stable country out there!--Greece?

Friday, I worked from 8am to 11pm.

Saturday, I ran errands all day, including taking a 7 hour birthing class. Fun. (That's sarcasm).

Sunday, I unexpectedly worked all day (after church) until 10pm. Key word being "unexpectedly."

All these surprise attacks have inspired me to write this haiku:

Little flashing light

On my blackberry causes

Me fear and nausea

Friday, June 11, 2010

Celebrity Celebrity Dopplegangers

It just struck me today how much Natalie Portman looks like Giada de Laurentis. They're both petite, with a rather large head to body ratio, and have the same facial bone structure. To wit:



If Giada were exciting enough to have a TV movie made of her life, Natalie should totally play it--Not Without My Lemon Zest, The Giada de Laurentis Story.

Incidentally, I'm always delighted to come across a pic of Ms. Portman. I just love her and I love seeing her sartorial choices.

Natalie--if you're reading this, I love you girl! Let's hang out sometime. You, me and Reese.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Trying

Man, this woman has been through hell and back in her quest for fertility. I can NOT imagine the tenacity, frustration, and heartache she's had to experience as she suffered miscarriage after miscarriage. Had to post something so compelling. (Btw, she's the actress that plays George Lopez's wife in his sitcom).

***********************


Constance Marie’s Blog: My Fertility Fight

This week’s topic: My fertility journey. Oy! It was so long, but so worth every second, because at the end of it, I got my sweet little Luna Marie. I always knew I would have a family, but I just didn’t know how I would get there.

I never felt ready to have a baby until I was about 37 years old. I knew I always wanted kids someday, but I needed to be “ready,” ya know? Emotionally, physically, mentally, financially, etc.

Plus, my mother had me when she was 18 — I didn’t want to repeat that. So, like any smart girl I was always careful. Growing up we are told every day, “Don’t get pregnant! Be cautious!” As if just standing next to a boy would knock us up! Right?!

But then, somewhere in our lives that all changes! It goes from, “Make sure to not get pregnant!” to “Oh man! I gotta hurry up and get pregnant!” Honestly, I wish we had a visible meter that would just DING and announce, “It is time to get serious ladies!” That biological clock is a force to be reckoned with.

I do wish I had started earlier, but I never thought I would have a problem! I had read how a lot of women were having kids later in life. I was healthy, in good shape and Latina! I mean come on! We are supposed to be muy fertile right?! For sure it was gonna be easy! Wrong.

When I turned 38, Kent and I decided it was time. We were thinking “Yea! We have to have lots of sex!” And by nine months in, it was, “Ugh, we have to have lots of sex!”

My doctor suggested I have some blood tests done and go to a specialist for a test called a hysterosalpingogram, which I can only describe as a combination x-ray/pap smear. They inject dye into your fallopian tubes to see if there’s a problem. Sounds like fun right? Um … no.

The test did not go well. His diagnosis: blocked fallopian tubes. I was shocked! All these years I had been trying not to get pregnant and I had blocked tubes! What a waste of a lot of birth control right?! I was so shocked and sad. I would not be able to get pregnant naturally.

My gyno suggested I wait a bit and then go for a second opinion. I went to see a different specialist that I nicknamed “Mr. Sunshine.” He was patient, sweet and calm. This time — I kid you not — he injected the dye, it just flew up the tubes and presto! Like a frickin’ miracle, they were fine! I didn’t question it — back to lots of sex! I was on a mission! This time I bought an ovulation kit and I became a pro at peeing on a stick.

After a few months I was pregnant! Kent and I were in shock! Wow! At seven weeks we went for an ultrasound to see and hear the baby’s heartbeat. As we eagerly looked at the monitor, we grew silent. There was no baby. Words cannot express how sad we were. That was a horrible day.

The only thing I had to hold onto was that years earlier a friend of mine had shared her pregnancy journey with me. She told me that she had gotten pregnant three times and that each time, it didn’t work out. She was very matter of fact about it. She knew it was just part of the process when a woman is older. That friend went on to have two beautiful girls. I loved her so much for being honest and sharing that story with me. I needed hope.

Once more we got pregnant! Once more, it did not work out. Another horrible day.

I tried the holistic approach, doing research on toxins that could impede my getting knocked up. I eliminated coffee and fish from my diet. The pesticides in coffee and fish, as well as the mercury in the latter are considered possible contributors to birth defects in fetal tissue. I also stopped drinking out of plastic bottles, because the plastic releases a toxin called Bisphenol A (BPA), a known hormone disruptor. Lastly, I did a few cleanses. I was not kidding around!

We decided to get even more serious. My doctor suggested Clomid, a drug that helps a woman produce more than one egg each cycle, along with the most common type of Artificial Insemination, Intra-Uterine Insemination (IUI). We did this about six times! One of the times, our substitute doctor — because of course, I only ovulated on major holidays and weekends, especially Sundays — spilled the specimen all over the floor! Dammit! After all of Kent’s hard work. Then he had the nerve to say he wouldn’t charge us!

So far, none of this was working. I was getting tense. I was running out of time and knew I needed to bring in the BIG GUNS!

In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) was our next step. I asked around and my friends suggested the rock star of the IVF game, Dr. Richard Marrs. I LOVE this guy! I started a regimen of injections — Yes, I injected myself. Eek! — plus meticulously timed sex. Romantic right? Not so much.

This did not work.

Then we upped our game. Major hormone injections helped me to produce up to 13-18 eggs each cycle — that will bloat a girl! — that they would then harvest like I was a frickin’ orange tree while I was under anesthesia. I was nervous but trusted Dr. Marrs.

Afterwards, they would take my egg and thin the outer layer — because it had grown hard and bitchy over my 38+ years — and Kent’s sperm and introduce them to one another. When they weren’t looking, they’d SHOVE them together! When they formed an embryo, we would wait to see how it developed, literally calling in every day to see how our lil guy/gal was doing. When it had developed far enough, it was time to be put back in my uterus.

I also included acupuncture into this method because it has been reported to increase the ability of the embryo to implant into the wall of the uterus.

We did the IVF process two times. Each time, my odds looked so great, but each time it did not work out.

At this point, Dr. Marrs started to realize that something was wrong. I was able to get pregnant naturally but because the fetal tissue wasn’t great quality, the baby wouldn’t develop. Now they were putting in the A-team embryos and still nothing! I had eight embryos left, so Dr. Marrs started thinking outside the box.

He believed that the IVF medicines were messing with my own natural implantation process. That part I could do fine on my own, so he decided that we should freeze the remainder of the embryos and just wait, allowing my body to clear out from all the hormones and get back to normal.

Me? I did not like this concept! I was panicking and feeling pressed for time. I wanted that baby NOW. But who was I to argue with an IVF rock star?

I detoxed, relaxed and cleaned out mentally and physically. Whew! During a regular ovulation cycle two and a half months later, we defrosted a few of my little popsicles and put them in the oven, followed immediately by acupuncture. To ensure implantation, I literally laid down on the couch for two days until one of those little buggers took hold.

And take hold one did! One little embryo survived the ice age and implanted! That little embryo was and is little Miss Luna Marie, the love of my life!

I cannot tell you how depressing, frustrating, difficult, sad, lonely and just plain crappy the whole process was. However, I can say that I would do it ALL OVER AGAIN! As I sit here listening to those little puffy pickle toes running upstairs and screaming “Mama!” while I sit here and type away, I can tell you that it was all worth EVERY minute!

That is my story, as condensed as I possibly could. I hope it is helpful to some of you who are just beginning or mid-process, or maybe you can forward it to a friend. Just know that you are not alone. We women need to support each other!

My last thought — if you want a family, it can and will happen! One way or another!

Tuesday, June 08, 2010

The Seat Less Taken

So I finally did it today. For the first time ever.

I sat down on the BART.

I hate sitting on the dirty BART upholstered seats, and my commute is only 1 stop, and I like to be the first one to hop right off when we pull up to the station, so I never saw the point of sitting before.

But ever since the belly has been ever so obviously protruding, kind strangers have been wobbling over to me while the train is en route and pointing to their vacant seat.

I usually waive my hand and say "It's okay. I only have one stop. It's okay, really," and feel guilty for rejecting their kind offer and making them feel slightly...well, rejected. I think it's hurtful when you offer something and you get rejected. But I really don't like sitting on the BART!

That's why I've recently started to wear scarves to work. I drape them strategically over the belly area and they seem to obscure my body just enough to make me look merely fat.

But not today. The scarve did not work its voodoo well enough for this observant young lady who shot up out of her seat and insisted I sit down. I started my automatic response, "No, it's okay..." but she would have none of it.

And the train announcer said we would be delayed for at least 10 minutes due to some hold up on the track.

And my feet do get sore if I stand for more than a few minutes at a time.

So I sat down. At the very tippy-top edge of the dirty, smelly seat.

I think I could get used to this.

Saturday, June 05, 2010

Getting My Baby Butt in Gear

Towards the end of my 7th month I started to panic because I had done absolutely nothing in preparation for the baby's impending arrival. Absolutely. Nothing.

I hadn't read a page, considered my registry, taken any hospital classes, made room in my cramped apartment. We're talking nothing.

But now, thanks to some providentially free weekends, I've made a lot of progress, and feel a lot less like jumping out a high-story window.

To conquer the baby-gear gauntlet (and what a crazy gauntlet it is, let me tell you) I read through Baby Bargains (aka, the alpha and omega of baby consumer product reports). With the friendly authors and my good friend Peg to guide me (and hundreds of kind reviewers on Amazon and Target), I finally finished registering for all the stuff I think I'll need for at least the first 4 months. Check!


I also put away 2/3 of my clothes to make room for baby furniture--his drawers, bassinet, and changing table. That was a little heartbreaking cuz I love my non-preggo clothes and honestly, one of the hardest things about pregnancy has been not being able to wear them and add to them! So now baby has his own wall of furniture in our room. Check!

I also finally signed up for some all-day Saturday hospital classes and told my boss that I can't work those Saturdays. It's kind of ridiculous to be like, "Can I have those NON-WORKDAYS off?" Who has the ask for permission for non-workdays?! Only corporate lawyers! Check!

And researched and found a good pediatrician. Check!

And got a bassinet at a baby consignment shop at 66% off the normal retail price. Score! Every time I look at it in my room, I melt into an expectant goop of sentimentality. It's so adorable and sweet looking with all its quilting and non-frilly bows. And did I mention I got it for 66% off?!


The consignment shop also had tons of baby clothes, which I know is going to draw me back like catnip. Who can resist little-man clothes?


Now all I really need is a changing table. That can't be too hard to find on Craigslist. Oh, and maybe a diaper genie...

But despite all that I've gotten done, I still had a panic attack last night. It just dawned on me that the baby could come as early as next month. And it shall begin.

The trauma of childbirth, the tortured sleep-deprivation, the exploding poop, the endless fountain of pee, the frustration of breastfeeding, and the constant guilt, fear, and vulnerability that is parenthood.

Oh momma.

Friday, June 04, 2010

The one in which I'm just talking to myself like an office-crazed cubicle monkey

I usually know what I want to blog about before I write my entries. Some idea has fascinated me, made me feel an urgent need to make my opinion know, compelled me, like an itch to scratch.

But today I have no topic.

None. Nothing. Nada.

I'm just going to freestyle it. Like an OG rapper. Straight up.

Okay, I'm stalling.

But seriously, I have no topic, but I just feel the need to write. About anything and nothing. I think it's because I work for hours a day without much human interaction and I just need to talk to someone-one-un-n! (empty office wall echo)

So, pregnancy. That's been going okay. I just turned the corner into the 8th month and mother-freaking-load-of-goodness, the belly is big. During the 2d trimester I was all cocky, like, pregnancy is no big deal. I live a totally normal life and nothing's different. But you turn that corner into the 8th month and it gets unwieldy, let me tell you.

First, I go to the bathroom, literally, every 30 minutes. That's exacerbated by the extra water I have to drink to make sure my "system" stays "regular." Getting up and down from the floor is now a major undertaking requiring some prep, some props, and some deep breaths. Putting on socks and pants requires a lot of mental prep too, and props, and grunts.

And the craziest thing is trying to remember to NEVER point your toes, EVER. Why? Because that leads to the most mother-freaking-nature-worst-death-grip-of-pain-ever--a foot or leg cramp. Those suckers come straight from the bowels of hell and completely wake-up your tired butt in the wee hours of the morning, cursing and foaming at the mouth.

And let's not forget the indigestion. The irony of being so big is that you consume so much more food, but your stomach is the smallest ever because it's being so squeezed. So you eat a lot and then wish you hadn't cuz you can't digest it properly!

I realize this all sounds rather physically uncomfortable, but it's really not so bad. These are minor annoyances compared to much worse things like getting a rash, having bad allergies, a sore throat, etc. I'd still much rather be pregnant that experience any of the foregoing.

Not sure if I'll still be saying that in the 9th month though...

My greatest struggles these days consist of deciding when to start my maternity leave. Start too late and I won't have time to prep for baby's coming and get all the gear ready. Start too early and I'll waste my precious maternity leave and have less time with the baby afterwards. What's a girl to do?

And I'm starting to realize more and more the dark side of having kids. The dark side is the sinking feeling of dread and sorrow and fear over things you can't control. Just the other day I was reading my bedtime novel in which the main character's baby was delivered stillborn. And I swear I was depressed for the whole next day.

I often think of some friends who've had miscarriages, stillbirths or difficulty getting pregnant and see it all in a different light now.

Okay, wow, who knew one topic would take so long to ramble on about. Moving on...

So, the BP oil spill, what a mess. Hopefully they cap that sucker soon.

I wonder how the whole Israeli attack on the Palestinian aide-carrying flotilla is going to turn out. Will Israel apologize? Pay off some arab leaders under the table to make atonement and save face at the same time? That was a real clusterf**k.

And what about N. Korea's "alleged" attack of a S. Korean naval ship? The quotes are there cuz N. Korea denies it, but COME ON! Is there anyone who believes that N. Korea didn't do it (other than maybe China and N. Korea...and maybe Iran)?

Um, can you believe it's June already?! Half of 2010 is almost over!