crazedparent

Pregnancy secrets...

No. Again. NO. I'm not knocked up.

But I do have several sweet friends who indeed have the proverbial bun in the oven. Every time I see them, with their gorgeous glows and growing bellies, I always smile and recall both of my pregnancy experiences. I was extremely lucky - minor morning sickness, one bout with moderate bed rest, and fairly easy labor and delivery. But then I also think about the pregnancy part. I read The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy, and I felt like I knew everything. I mean, if Vicki Iovine is telling me about her pregnancy dreams causing orgasms, hello, what else do I need to know?

The truth is that I had a few friends who had kids and would relay only bits and pieces of their pregnancy experiences. I didn't really ask many questions because I didn't know what to ask or I was too embarrassed to ask. And they weren't proactively sharing details. Were they worried they would freak me out? It's not like I could stop this runaway train called "the birth of a child."  Why all the pregnancy secrets?

As I chat with my currently knocked-up friends about their pregnancies and what they can expect, I often find myself holding back. Why? I'm worried I'm tampering with their first time as expectant moms because their experiences might be vastly different than mine. I want them to savor every moment of the goodness without tainting them with the possibilities of the badness. Let's face it - the questions always swirl around the badness...like how much everything hurts. You can't have eight pounds of baby rush through your crotch without any pain, ladies, so that shouldn't come as a surprise.

But maybe they won't feel like the baby is about to fall out when they go on walks during week 38. Maybe they won't want to rip the doors off their hinges while they writhe in pain from contractions. Maybe they won't want to have an epidural at three centimeters (because they can, you know.) Maybe they won't want to laugh and talk to their OB while their iPod plays a sweet mix of tunes in the background. Maybe they won't have a "heart-drops-to-the-pit-of-your-stomach-we-may-have-to-do-an emergency c-section" moment. Maybe they won't say twenty Hail Marys when the nurse asks them to poop the first time post delivery. Maybe their boobs won't sear with the pain as molten lava milk comes in. Maybe their babies will sleep through the night from the moment they come home from the hospital.

Maybe they won't. Maybe they will. But shhhh. Don't tell.

Mamas - do you hold back when expectant moms ask you about your pregnancy experiences? And pregnant mamas - how much do you really want to know?

Put me down for pitocin at 6...

Scheduled births. Not of the scheduled c-section kind. I'm talking the "The Giants opener is on April 7th and this baby needs to be OUT so I can be at the game" kind of scheduled birth.

The NYT Sunday Magazine has a read, "Births, Controlled" (reg. required) by Tina Cassi, who's trying to pump up her new book, Birth: The Surprising History of How We Are Born (out in the Fall). She points out the obvious - the last month of pregnancy is a the most exhausting and trying of the three trimesters. And those moms that are impatient and don't feel like waiting 40 weeks for a natural  labor? Pah. They want that baby out. Pronto. Apparently a look at the rise in pitocin usage shows that "elective" induced labors are up. Which is odd because inductions have traditionally been used at the 40 week mark, and sometimes waiting until even 41 weeks, unless the baby is in distress. As Cassidy points out, inductions actually can cause fetal distress and complications, so it's odd that these induced labors are statistically up.

Asking my doctor to induce before my due date never crossed my mind. The memories of those first contractions, the labor pains, the water breaking, the panicked ride to the hospital. They changed my life. Now if I were past the due date, another story entirely.

I know so many women who had to have scheduled c-sections and never experienced the wonders of labor and natural (drugged) childbirth. And nearly every single one was saddened by the thought of what they missed. So these gals having elective c-sections and elective inductions, it takes the excitement and mystery out of childbirth. It's far too controlling for me.

Did you have an elective induced birth or elective c-section? If so, why?

Oh, no pretty mama...

...what you gonna do in those shoes...

I file this under 'a pregnant pause' because let's face it, if you're breastfeeding, you still feel pregnant. There's this little viper still attached to you every few hours (or sooner). And most of us still carry a bit of the extra weight. So when you have to go clothes shopping, like I did this week, it's seriously traumatic.

I had to find the perfect outfit for the wedding of some dear friends (smooches to you, my little lovebirds!) Alas, nothing, and I mean NOTHING fit for the nursing mom. Anna Nicole and Pam Anderson...you got nothin' compared to crazedparent mama. This makes shopping difficult, to say the least.

But oh, when I stepped into Ann Taylor and saw these shoes...I had to have them. They would complete me. I would be able to stand tall and proud in these pointy, leopard spotted heels.  I had to find the outfit to match the shoes. And I did. The price tag...cripes. Don't get me started. But they are mine.

To the bride and groom, I love you dearly one, because you are such wonderful friends and I'm thrilled to be able to watch you get hitched tomorrow. And two, because your wedding offered me the blissful opportunity to buy these KICK ASS shoes. The sass is back.

Mamas out there...what purchase post baby made you feel sassy again?

Enter the mighty Q...

A pregnant pause no more.

It's been three weeks since crazedparent welcomed it's newest family member, Mighty Q. Another boy has stolen my heart. I'm officially outnumbered in our household and loving it to pieces.

Mighty Q was born on May 18th. He's a dream to look at and is near identical to his big Bro, the Express.

While I'm not quite ready to share the deets on my labor and delivery because I'm still in bliss over the amazing experience, I will provide my top five snippets...

5. When my "bag of waters" broke I literally heard it "pop."

4. Contractions post water breakage were a near death experience. Maybe it's just me but vulcan death grips on my lower spine just aren't my idea of a good time.

3. I adorethe folks at Lucille Packard Children's Hospital who got my epidural up and running within 30 minutes of my arrival (read: Hook me up for previous thoughts on this.)

2. Painless delivery is the way to go.

1. Mighty Q was born as a Rick Springfield song, Alien Virus, from the album SDAA, played in the backgroud. Contrary to the husband's belief, it was completely coincidental. And very memorable. How can I ever forget the line "Baby where were you, I waited for hours, up in the sky was a strange light..."

Since that magic moment, it's been a new brand of chaos at the crazedparent home.

We dig it.

The iPod in labor & delivery...

So as I await the birth of crazedparent baby number two, I've been getting things ready for the trip to the hospital. One of those things is creating a new playlist for my iPod to keep me pacified (along with the sweet epidural that will be administered) as I writhe in pain.

Of the 80 songs on my playlist (and I keep adding), here are the top 10 tunes...

10. El Sol que Tu Eres, Linda Rondstadt
9. Swing Low, Sweet Chariot, Eric Clapton
8. We are all Made of Stars, Moby
7. Besame Mama, Pancho Sanchez
6. Lonely No More, Rob Thomas
5. Love you for a Day, Ricky Martin
4. A Kiss to Build a Dream On, k.d. lang and Tony Bennet
3. Doop-do-dee-doop (Doodlin' Song), Blossom Dearie
2. Waiting for You, Seal
1. Jessie's Girl...the acoustic version, need I say more?

What songs would you add to bring a bambino into the world?

This thing called 'nesting'...

Pregnancy is a wacky thing. Yes, it's amazing to have this alien creature in your belly pretending your innards are a jungle gym. But it's the ancillary stuff that boggles my mind. Today's focus...this thing they call "nesting," an insatiable need to clean and organize one's home and life.

As I approached the 37th week of pregnancy with my first bundle of baby, I found myself sitting on the floor in front of a hall closet reorganizing our Christmas wrapping paper and associated trinkets. There was no real reason to do it. But something overcame me and I had to make it tidy. To purge what was taking up space.

This time around, the nesting instinct hit me early. About 3 months early. I've been cleaning out and reorganzing closets, dresser drawers, cabinets and the garage on a near daily basis for months. Goodwill and St. Vincent de Paul love me - I make weekly visits with our leftovers. Hubby is an extreme bliss - anytime we rid our home of "things that take up space" he is euphoric. It's all about clean lines, you know.

My baby prep list was long and full of action items. All completed with three weeks to go, save for properly installing the infant car seat.

But the one activity that is driving me crazy...that I desire to do the most in these last few weeks of pregnancy...is scrapbook (rid your mind of filth, you heathens). I assume it's because it's one area in my life that I've left in chaos for the past two years. I have this desparate need to complete albums and to start Baby In Belly's album, beginning with shower photos. 

I have all the materials to start. I even paid a visit to my local Creative Memories gal to pick up a new album and "baby bundle" stuff. But I can't.

And here's why...

I have two stories due for the San Francisco Chronicle. And I won't let myself start scrapbooking until the stories are done.  And, oh, I haven't even started the stories. The research is complete. It's just the actual art of writing the story that's left. The hard part.

It's torture. And I have this deep feeling in my core that Baby will be born next week.

I guess I'd better get my act together.

For real, tho.

Crazedparent has taken a little siesta for the past few weeks thanks to my ever increasing belly and chasing my tornado son around the house. OK, trying to chase him. The point is, I've been slacking on posts. I'll pick up soon. Scouts honor.

Moving on up...

For those of you concerned about my  recent craving for Hawaiian Punch, fear not. I've moved on and up to a higher quality beverage.

Now it's Trader Joe's "Sir Strawberry" fruit juice. MMMmmm good. The best part? Neither hubby nor son like it. So it's ALL MINE. But I'm not selfish

As for the Toll House cookie fetish, it's still with me. I just polished off my last three (with a tall glass of milk, mind you).

I'm really trying to get rid of this little habit. But it's tough - they are so damn yummy.

Say a little prayer for me, will ya? Or send me some cookies.

Pregnancy cravings run amuck...

My DotMoms post yesterday on my current pregnancy cravings drew some really good responses from readers about their funky pregnancy food fetishes.  They ranged from the traditional chocolate and salty foods to my personal favorite, dirt.

I just polished off my Tollhouse Cookie fix for the day. Wonder what's up next...

Insomnia, please...

I'm having lots of pregnant pauses these days. That second trimester burst of energy that's supposed to hit? Non-existent. Perhaps chasing after a 3-year-old boy all day is the main reason.

Whatever it is, it's really putting a dent in my writing.

Every night I announce "I need to stay up to get this article done...to post on crazedparent...to get a chapter done on my novel...to finish the damned manuscript I'm working on..."

I'm on deadline,  so I'm a little stressed out. But it's not enough to keep me awake. As soon as we put Doodle Doo to sleep, I'm out cold 10 minutes later. And still tired the next day. Nothing a shot of espresso wouldn't fix if I were not with child. But, I've got a squirmy baby in the ol' tummy reminding me every two seconds that caffiene is out of the question.

And so, in the spirit of the birds in the Peter Rabbit story, I implore the great sleep gods above to grant me insomnia for the next three nights! (And if you don't get the Peter Rabbit reference, the birds "Peter to exert himself" from the wire fence so Mr. McGregor won't catch him...read it. It's a keeper.)