Preggo Update - 7 months and counting....

I am officially 7 months and 5 days pregnant today....only a little under 3 months to go, less than 12 weeks; 79 days to be exact, a mere 1,896 hours! My obsessions with reading and talking about pregnancy, birth and infants have continued.

My most recent read - a book called Baby Matters that discusses attachment parenting. There seems to be a name for everything involving babies. Attachment parenting is the opposite of detached parenting. It is the rejection of theories that reinforce not holding the baby too much because it will "spoil" him. It says the idea that getting the baby out of your room and into the nursury asap is ridiculous. It rebuffs the thought that more crying strengthens babies' lungs and bawlks at the suggestion that any woman would be unable to breastfeed. Attachment parenting says that cow's milk was made for no other living being than baby cows and that the more affection, touch and literal attachment moms can provide to their babies results in more independent and self-confident babies, toddlers, children and adults.

Detachment parenting, on the other hand, leads to insecure children; babies who are left alone before they're ready and left with an emptiness and decreased sense of self as a result. This book claims detached parenting leads to long term life problems and explains everything from heightened rates of ADHD to illnesses like diabetes and cancer and even increased divorce rates and Americans' growing inability to maintain healthy, committed relationships.

In reading this book, I don't know if I agree with all of it. Like the concept of letting your child ween when they're ready (and as a result, nursing a 5 year old) or the thought that babies are absolutely safer in bed with their parents (Mike and I weight close to 500 lbs in a queen bed - lots of potential for a crushed baby). But the rest of it makes a lot of sense. If everytime I fell or stumbled or felt uncomfortable, no one was there to catch me or fix the problem, or they took a while to get to me, I'd be really scared to fall, stumple or reach any point of discomfort. But if my parents were always there, always reinforcing how wonderful and able I was, always catching me when I fell, then I would feel secure that everything will be ok. It makes perfect sense if you put yourself in the shoes (or booties) of an infant.

It does seem almost unnatural to worry about teaching an infant to be independent. They're not suppossed to be independent yet. They need you. In this sense, attachment parenting is a beautiful concept....and very instinctual. My desire to nurture and take care of my growing belly increases each and every day. I assume the same will be true of the actual baby.

So, lessons learned now that I've hit 7 months of pregnancy:

- There's no need to worry. Mothering is instinctual and, with the help of my trusty village, I will find my way.

- Optimism is a pregnant ladies BEST FRIEND. Examples:
1. Swollen ankles are nothing but an opportunity to sit in a recliner with my feet up for 4 hours. 2. That feeling like someone beat me up between my legs (medical term: round ligament pain) is just a sign that my baby is healthy growing and STRONG!
3. The fact that my life revolves around the restroom, sleep, hydration and eating is definitely good training for caring for a newborn.
4. People are just nicer to you when you're pregnant, especially your husband.
5. Getting fat is ok - and it's an excuse for new clothes.
6. Being woken up at 5 AM by hunger pains and a flailling baby is ok. It means you get to eat (something I love) and play with the baby. By playing I mean, when he/she kicks, I push back in that same spot, then he/she pushes back in the same spot and I try to touch it, and it goes on - 30 minutes later I'm still cracking up at it all and I'm confident that Michael/Gabriella knows I'm there.
...I could go on and on...

- I am really blessed with friends and loved ones. People come out of the woodworks for a Baby!

- If I can read THIS MUCH baby material, I can study for my GMAT and go get my MBA. (Random I know, but we find inspiration in the oddest places.)

- 2 baby showers later, it's confirmed, I really love baby things! So far, baby socks are my favorite.

Baby Shower # 2 - Miami, FL

This past Sunday, Mike and I were blessed with baby shower number 2! It was another intimate affair of 10 or so at Perricone's Marketplace Cafe in Brickell, Miami....home of delicious gelatto, canolli's and salmon salad!

It was so fantastic. I really loved it. We got some pretty great baby essentials - stroller and car seat, play center (exersaucer thing), baby spa, diaper genie (no to the stinkies!), adorable socks and gloves and some fabulous gift cards that I look forward to spending. And my girlfriends Kali and Heather made some great games with horrifyingly embarrassing questions like - How many times did Mike and Pamela date before she gave up the goods? What position were they in when baby Fuller was conceived? - these alongside of the traditional - Who do you think will change the first diaper? Who's more likely to cry at the delivery? Further highlights of the shower included a word search where diaper was accompanied by cock ring and prizes like 3XL granny panties and lube! I couldn't have dreamed of planning something so fun! And, to my husband's horror, his parents and sister were there to celebrate with us. I think even they could appreciate the hilarity of it all. And I really enjoyed their answers to How many times we dated before I gave up the goods - Mom - 80, Dad - 100, Adriane - eww! (I can't remember what she wrote, but that's what she said!). Good times had by all.

Kali and Heather did such a great job and the buzz around the office is that my shower was really fun. I was so happy to have one. A part of me (a big part of me) still feels foreign to South Florida so, like my bachlorette party (also planned by two of my fabulous coworkers turned friends - Sarah and Heather and equally as inappropriate - sex toy party!), I was kind of baffled to have a group of people to celebrate with! Silly, I know. Just further evidence of my village I suppose. Thank god for villages.

The Mommy Wars

My most recent pregnancy obsession has been birthing stories.  At almost 7 months, I think it's about time that I get a better idea of what this whole childbirth process is all about...beyond TV labor scenes compressed into 30 minute segments.  I went into the research feeling pretty confident of a few things:

- I wanted to try really, really hard to go without the pain drugs and have a natural birth.

- I'm terrified by the thought of a c-section.

- Episiotomy must be a male doctor's invention....

- And I'm hoping to nurse as soon after the birth as possible.

So, following my trusty pregnancy blog PregTASTIC, I ordered the book Deliver This!  off of eBay.  It's a book that non judgmentally describes all of the birth options from a home birth to a scheduled c-section.   

The book opens discussing the mommy wars - the ongoing battle between breastfeeding and bottles, home schooling vs. public school vs. private schools, stay at home moms vs. working moms, organic vs. non, etc.  The judgement that some moms project onto other moms for choosing an option different from their own.  And according to the author, the root of these judgements is an insecurity that if someone else's choice is different than yours, yours must be wrong.  I really related to this concept.  And I think it transcends into the things all woman judge others on.  Think about why you would call someone a prude, or why you'd call them a whore....because they're doing something different from the decisions you've made about your sexuality.  Or why you'd talk about someone's diet....whether they are on the strictest or such or eating whatever they'd like, it's different from what you're doing and maybe reflects what you and this person look like....so we comment on both extremes.  

So I discuss my new knowledge and reflection with my husband who nods supportively and kind of smirks (because he thinks, probably not inaccurately, that I'm one of the most judgemental people he knows) and pats my hand a little patronizingly and tells me he hopes I can continue reflecting and NOT judging. 

I continue reading and discover a new play called Birth...something like the Vagina Monologues but with birth stories instead of stories from your vagina.  And I listen to one of the testimonials of birthing story by a Birth supporter.  During her home birth, her midwife (or soul bringer as she called her) told her to fight the pain with noise and just yell.  Her young daughter (4 or 5) served as her "doula" cheering her on as she went through the contractions.  She nursed her husband (yes, you read that correctly) in an effort to help her contractions along.  And her midwife had to stick her hand up inside her to help the baby's head out.  Picture it all happening at once.  Mom screaming and pushing while midwife sticks her hand inside her and Dad nurses....you the new big sister looking on.  

It just seemed insane to me!  As natural as birth is, it seems a bit much for a child to process.  And seeing my mom scream and grunt in pain bearing down on a midwifes hand....naked....while my Dad sucks on her breast??  I mean, what could a child make of that.  Of course my next move is to call my husband and talk about how crazy that seemed and ban him from putting his mouth anywhere near my titimilk (our personal phrase for breast milk) during labor or after.  And he laughed at me, followed by a reminder of the judgmental base of the mommy wars.  And told me I should start practicing now.

He humbled me.  

My research on childbirth will probably continue until the moment my labor begins but so far, I've learned a lot.  I'm still pretty much convinced of my initial thoughts.  But I've added a few more:

- If it doesn't go exactly how I want it too, it'll still be ok.

- Alternative options may just provide the relief I'll need while in the throws of labor.

- And birthing options are probably as individual as the children that result from them. 

My Village - Washington, DC

Mis amigas!

Why Lucila, why?   

Presents!!! What mom could live without a boppy pillow.

Belly measuring! 

My last two weeks of pregnancy preparation have been full of reaching out.  As I told my sister-in-law, I think I've been "nesting" in my own way, working to create the village that I know it will take to raise this child.  From my college alumni chapter to my sorority's grad chapter, coworkers and a newly discovered resource, meetup.com, I've been working to surround myself with like-minded people, resources and families.  I've become a fan of tons of mommy written blogs and finally crawled out of my cocoon and began reaching out to my friends again...via phone and email.  

This weekend's activities really brought home to me the importance of that work.  I bit the bullet and in a moment of fiscal irresponsibility (thankfully, these moments are fewer and fewer lately), I bought a plane ticket to Washington, DC last month.  With an almost permanent kool-aid smile, I gallivanted through my old stomping grounds spending Friday at GW, lunch with my DC Best Buddies coworkers, a happy hour (yes, everyone looked at me like I'd lost my mind), Saturday mani/pedi in Alexandria and a surprise baby shower and Sunday breakfast of pancakes with Cicely and the boys!  It couldn't have gone better if I'd scripted it.

There was just so much love and smiles for me, for my belly and for what's inside.  It was a weekend full of good memories and another reminder of how blessed baby Fuller already is to be so loved and anticipated.

And an affirmation for me that I must continue reaching out, extending beyond my comfort zone, pushing myself to be present and participate.  Because Florida is my home and where I'm putting in some roots and watching them grow.

Whales

Me: Everyone in DC said my belly is really pretty. (Lifting up my shirt to rub on it.)

Him: It is pretty. But it’s so white.

Me: Yea, I haven’t gotten any sun. I’m waiting for it to warm up so I can use the pool, just go float around.

Him: Like a whale

Me: (Crazy look on my face) What? You’re a whale!

Him: (Laughing) Hey!

Me: I can’t be a fish or a dolphin, I have to be a whale!? I’m pregnant, what’s your excuse?

Him: (Laughing and trying to kiss me) I’m pregnant too. You said you hate when I say “Pamela got pregnant.” Well then, I’m pregnant too.