Last night, we had the breastfeeding class. It was 99% boring, and almost a total wash, IMO, because I’m listening and thinking "Well, DUH. I KNOW that already." It was more than 2 hours long, with a video, and then a lactation consultant repeating everything that was said in the video, with a few hospital policy tidbits thrown in.  The pros were that I got to hear/see one of the hospital’s LCs, who is not only certified, but exclusively nursed all three of her kids for at least a year.  I think it was good for Dave to hear that it isn’t automatic, and takes practice, and that when the baby needs to feed in the hospital, it will probably help mom to relax if visitors are sent away for a while. (Um, not Dave, but our families and such. Dave gets to stay, but I can see him being the rational voice at the time, ushering people out with a "try back in an hour" command or something.) 

I’m really anxious about that 12hr window of visiting hours.  I KNOW that people are excited to see the baby and stuff, but I’m just already feeling protective of that time, or whatever. I know that I don’t want to call people when I go to the hospital, because I don’t want a crowd waiting to pounce on us when the baby is born. I’ve been on the other side, though, waiting just outside the door when Amy had her first, and driving like hell from Western NY when she had her second, and visiting asap. (Amy, you’re obviously excluded from this call/not call/no visitors thing) I KNOW the excitement, but I just don’t want to feel like I have to perform or produce because people are tapping their feet elsewhere.

I’m starting to flesh out my birth preferences, which are pretty basic and not too militant — or, don’t seem to be militant now that I know more about hospital policy. I’d like to be able to move around, use the shower and birth ball, and avoid continuous monitoring. I’d like to avoid medications, etc as well. I want the baby skin-to-skin and at the breast ASAP, and I want it rooming-in with me. I don’t want the Hep B vax given in the hospital (it’s one that I’m planning on declining, as we keep all our used needles in the TOP cupboards here), and if a boy, we don’t want a circumcision. I would like a visit from the LC to check on us (which may be standard? I wasn’t sure on that) and that’s about it, I think… as far as music or lighting, I don’t know, maybe I’ll fire up my iPod and bring that, and lights have switches, right? I want to keep it fairly simple and basic.

I have my worries, too. I’m planning on asking my OB what the chances are that she’ll be the one to actually catch the baby, because the doc on call that weekend (I know, I know, first timers usually go 8days after their due date,but still) I’ve heard nothing but bad — maybe not bad, maybe others prefer it, but bad compared to my ideals — things about. I worry that Amy won’t make it up here in time (which again, is probably stupid to worry about, as 2 hours isn’t necessarily average for a labor, and even with arranging childcare and stuff, I’m sure she’d make it in time). I worry about positioning of the baby, size of the baby, etc, or going to the hospital at my breaking point, and finding out "oh, you’re 1-2 cm dilated, go home!"  I worry about my funky nipple screwing with breastfeeding — it’s healing well, but I worry about the scar tissue screwing things up.

But then, I realize that no matter what I plan, or prefer, or worry about, ultimately it’s not entirely up to me. I can try my damnedest, but I can’t guarantee anything. One of my LJ friends had a baby a few months ago, and I followed the treatment of her baby’s jaundice, something that happened despite her (undoubtedly) doing everything ‘right.’ In the past few days, she’s been using her LJ to update friends and family of one of her friends who just had a baby, another person who seems to be one that did everything ‘right,’ and yet the position of the baby necessitated a c-section, and the baby needed to go to a NICU in another hospital while mom recovers in the hopsital she delivered at. I read that, and my heart just ACHES for all of them — I worry about visitors interrupting my time with learning the baby, and I can’t imagine how devastating it must be to not even be in the same building, and have the worries that come with NICU care, and I am devastated for her partner, because I picture Dave in that situation — trying to juggle the two most important people in your life while they are at two different hospitals, oh, it just makes me well up. (M, I’m really keeping your friends in my thoughts over the last few days, despite not having any idea who they are IRL, so know that even strangers are pulling for them.)

I think of that, and everything else pales in comparison. My worries seem so trivial, because I just can’t even fathom what the bigger unknowns could be.

I was really hesitant to take the hospital childbirth education (CBE) classes, but they were the only ones offered, and they were covered by my insurance. I figured that at the very least, I would get a tour of the maternity floor, and it would be good for Dave. While I didn’t necessarily learn anything new, I do feel better about the decision to do it.

The instructor is very subtly pro-breastfeeding, pro-unmedicated birth, etc. I definitely got that vibe, even though she was careful to explain the other options. There were some stupid things she said, for sure, like "Okay, guys, I know it’s SUnday, and if you need to check the scores of a sporting event during break, there’s a tv across the hall!" and a few other stupid things like that, but I can imagine she says it because people ask.

After introductions, Dr Leo came in to talk to us. He’s a local pediatrician that is very into making your baby as smart as possible. He has a website that I won’t directly link to, but is at brilliantbaby.com.  (You should check it out, if only to laugh at the irony of a man obsessed with intelligence not having the smarts tohire a professional web designer and/or proofreader. I get that English is his second launguage, but REALLY. Also, on the sales flyer for his new self-published book, ‘Baby Math,’ he had two prices listed in two different places, so it’s either $15 or $17, but definitely "Less than the cost of 3 hamburgers or one sneaker!" SERIOUSLY.)  Dr Leo does a thing on Dave’s station’s morning show every two weeks or so, and he IS passionate, but unfortunately, about halfway through his spiel I was able to pin down who he sounded like. Unfortunately, it’s Pepe Le Prawn. The Muppet. "You count with the baby, okaaaay, you say "Baby! one! One ! One! Clap!" okaaaayyy." I was trying SO HARD to keep it together, and I did, but goddamn, it was a LOT of cheek biting.

At the break, another dad came up and was all "DAAAAAVVEE!" Dave had worked on a show for him, when asked what he’d been up to, the guy said "Selling cars and wrestling." Heh.

I think I’m the only one that asked questions, which were answered well:
"Do you have a wireless monitoring system?" — No, but intermittent monitoring is standard, because it’s better to labor upright and moving.
"Can we restrict visitors?" — yes, tell the nurse and they will honor your wishes wrt visitors. (When Amy delivered there, it was a year or so after a newborn was kidnapped from the floor, so security was INSANE for a few years, including a total of 3 hours of visitation a day, which frankly, almost sounds more appealing I think.)
"What do you mean by ‘shots and drops?" — Erythromycin and Vitamin K.

The nurse educator talked a lot about gravity and positioning in birth (as a positive thing) including all fours, squatting, etc… she tempered it with a "now, this might soundreally strange to some of you…" but I think she knew her audience. ANd that’s where the real "oh, I’m a freak…" feelings came in. There were 7 pairs there. 6 couples, and a mother/daughter. All different ages, it seemed, but all due in May. The things that were weird were like, "who plans to breastfeed?" My hand and one other went up. "Formula/Bottle feed?" brought out 3 more hands. 2 couples were undecided. Really? WEIRD.  All those having boys were having them circumcised. About half were asking for the epidural during the video.  It’s not that there’s anything WRONG with those things, and hell, I have no idea who these people are — maybe they aren’t nursing ebcause they lost their nipples to cancer or something, I truly don’t know. But I definitely felt like the weird hippie parents, and we aren’t *that* hippie-like.  I do wonder how the breastfeeding class will be, since everyone THERE will have at least considered the concept, right? ANyway. I left pleasantly surprised, honestly. There was even mention of the Leboyer method (she didn’t say his name, but I knew what she was talking about) so yeah, I guess i was glad it wasn’t "Oh, you’re here at EMMC, we don’t like stretchy vaginas, so let’s discuss C-section aftercare!" Maybe I worry too much.

The other event of the day was that dave continued work on the hallway. It was ready to be sanded, and Matt had said "it’s messier, but quicker, to use a powersander."  KNowing it would probably create dust, Dave sent me out for the day. SInce I couldn’t think of anything ebtter to do, I went to Target to stock up on postpartum supplies. Of course, OF COURSE, after I’ve loaded a damn cart with underpads, two different sizes of maxi pads, witch hazel, stool softener, breast pads, nursing bras, I hear a couple that works with Dave talking around the next corner. Normally, whatever, I know them because they are on tv every night, but they don’t recognize me on sight, BUT, this is the couple that A) she worked with Dave at the last station, B) we rented their old apartment out in Levant, C) They just moved to our neighborhood based on Dave’s recommendation, D) I saw him on the baseline at EVERY tournament game, and he was always very nice and courteous and asking about the baby and stuff. So, I know these people.

I rearranged the stuff in my cart so that the nursing bras were on top (she nursed their twins for quite some time) and turned the corner and kind of did a driveby "hey! how are you!" and didn’t really stop to talk. Because, HELLO, my cart was the sum total of EVERY EMBARRASSING THING you could buy in Target. Sigh. After that, dave still wasn’t done, so I went to the mall and got a smoothie, but my back and hips started to huuuuurrrrt, so I went to the dollar store, where I scored some plastic baskets to corral all of our supplies in the coming months. I plan on having a nursing supply basket, and a diapering supply basket, etc, so that when I need say, nipple cream, I can say "get the green basket." ANyway. Reaaaallly hurting by then, so I went through the carwash, picked up an rx, and went home.

Where I found one of the most stressful situations of my pregnancy.

3:45 pm, class is at 5, my husband is entirely covered in white dust. Now, he’d taped off the upstairs, but it’s sealed off for winter, and anyway, a thin film of white dust throughout the downstairs living room. Upstairs? Even worse. The bathroom, coated in white dust. Everything in the linen closet our bedding, the walls, floors, EVERYTHING. White dust. I did not freak out. (Well, out loud. Jeanne got an…. earful? of OMFG typed message over ichat) Holy. Crap.

Despite that, Dave took a shower and was able to get us to the class on time. We got out early, and I have wiped down the downstairs, and he’s working on the bathroom. Literally, floor to ceiling coated in white dust. Like it SNOWED or something. He’s working on the whole upstairs, really. It is SUCH a mess. I don’t even think that opening a window would necessarily help, it would prob just pull the dust into the rooms more. I don’t even know where to begin with cleaning the floors. It sucks. BAD.

Dave feels awful, too, I mean, he hasn’t even saved TIME by doing it this way instead of wet sanding, once you factor in the cleaning we have to do to recover. And with my asthma/allergies, on TOP of being very pregnant, he does feel really, really awful about it. But still! ARGH! Why didn’t he STOP when he realized what was happening? I very rarely bitch about Dave, I very rarely have reason to — but the situation upstairs is so frustrating right now. And I thought I was overwhelmed with the need to organize the baby room. (He hasn’t even opened that door yet, so who the hell knows what that scene is. It. Sucks.)

To recap:

CBE, not asbad as I expected. Postpartum supplies purchased. I may have to sleep in the dining room.

BabyMail is exciting stuff. We got some more a few nights ago, part deux of an internet auntie’s gift was the dust ruffle and crib sheets I’d registered for.  Perfect timing, since we JUST got the mattress, and I was so excited to get the ruffle on (there’s a phrase I never thought I’d use) that I tried to do it myself, which, not so much. Balancing a crib mattress on one’s head, while leaning (or trying to lean) into the crib, at 7 months pregnant, to arrange the ruffle didn’t work so much. I’ll need assistance to finish the job, but I have the front part straightened out right!  Looking at the crib, though, it’s so… weird.  Aside from the weirdness of the crib existing itself, and why we have it, and all of that, it’s the crib the internet built. No, really. Sheets and dust ruffle from B, sleep positioner and blanket (WITH SILKIE!) from KB, fabric waiting to be stitched into a quilt and bumper cover was purchased with the generous handoff of Joann coupons from J. (Which, HA! Now that I think of it, who ELSE would have sent those to me?) Not to mention the receiving blankets, onesies, sweet little toys, practical supplies, etc, that are in boxes waiting to be used, all from people I met because of the internet. There is more in that backroom from y’all than there is from anyone ELSE at this point. How weird and cool is that?  I’m so thankful for the friendships I’ve made over the 5+ years I’ve been interacting with most of these people, and am totally humbled by their generosity.

My shower invites went out, and I invited five friends, and felt so odd ‘only’ having five friends to invite. (And one of them isn’t that close, but a former coworker that would help ease the weirdness for Deb, who, as you remember, my SIL complained about when goodniece had her as a teacher..) But then, I look around the (total clusterfuck, currently) of a baby room and am reminded that I have some GREAT friends, they are just far away, and even despite their distance, they are still part of this whole experience for me. It’s really quite amazing. So, hey. The official word is in the mail, but thanks. Even those that don’t send STUFF, but support us through the comments and email and kind thoughts, thanks. It’s not about STUFF, in the end. The stuff I’ve received is lovely, for sure, but it truly is the thought behind it that really amazes me.

1) I finally made a damn list. My brain never needed lists before, but now it does. Not only did I make a list, I managed to get 25% of it done yesterday. (Uh, but all school related.)

2) My advisor (academic, not jesus-y) complimented me on my discussion points in seminar, and said "I can tell you were a great teacher." that was pretty cool, especially since I feel like such a freaking loser for having everything so screwed up this semester.

3) She also pointed me to a job that she’d just sent over the listserv, and when I checked it out, GODDAMN, if only it was up for grabs 6 months from now. It’s at primarysource.org, part-time, flex, using both of my degrees, DOWNTOWN (as in DOWNTOWN HERE, not downtown Portland, which seems odd for there to be such a job in my city), and starting (for 20 hrs a week) is 15-20k. (To compare, starting for F/T teachers around here is generaly less than 25k.) Oh, and my advisor knows the hiring person really well, too. (You know, small town, all of that.)  Seriously, if it was in SIX MONTHS, I would be all over that job. But I just can’t apply for it at this point. It’s doing professional dev with teachers, so I imagine it would be lots of summer inservices and such, and  just… if it was posted in 6 months! Sigh. (It did make me feel good to be tipped off to that, though, in the "hey, check the listserv.."  I saw her in class and said what a GREAT job it sounded like, and how bummed I was at the timing, and she was like "yeah, I totally thought of you for that.") I mean, I don’t know that they’d find my "passion for world history" up to par, but I’m not AVERSE to world history (and love learning about different cultures — hi p.phone! — and traveling and reading and all of that…) but maybe I’d need more tiki heads in my house or something. ANyway.

4)  The Violent Femmes are playing at the mountain this month! Whoo! (For those that may not know, my license plate for ~ 10 years said "VLNT-FEM." I mean, it started when I was 18, and then became an easy way to be recognized, more than once I had an old friend track me down in some place by saying "I saw your car on the street!" When I started teaching, I gave it up. Sigh. Grownups.) I’ve seen them twice, in 94 and in… 97? Maybe? I lived on Court street at the time, so between 96-99, anyway.  They must be so old looking now. And by virtue of that, won’t be surprised by the very pregnant 30 year old drinking ginger ale in the crowd, right?

Webought a crib mattress this weekend.  Just the cheap $50 one from Target, but it was weird. We were so totally Expectant Parents in the store, with me pushing the cart and Dave holding the mattress and helping me navigate. There was another couple there doing similar maneuvers, but with 2 Graco boxes instead of a mattress.

We put it in the crib, which meant pulling out the boxes of stuff that have been being stored in the crib, and suddenly, the crib looks like a bed for a BABYinstead of just a big storage unit.  When we went to put it in, there was a split at one of the side seams, but from what I understand, those are inevitable on a cheap crib mattress, so we just patched it up with duct tape. I hd gotten a matress pad anyway, vinyl backed but topped with cloth-diaper material, so it’s absorbent and not so crunch crunch crunch plasticy sounding, and i figure between the duct tape and pad and mattress placement, it will be fine. (Not to mention, who the hell knows when the kid will end up in the crib anyway, since our plans are to keep it in our room until it no longer works for us. It’s kind of like a backup/beard crib to keep people from questioning EVERY damn decision we make.)  I tried to make some headway on the room, but the more I DO the more clusterfucked it seems to look. It really wouldn’t be that much to get it picked up and set up, but I find it totally overwhelming.  Dave’s been working on the hallway, and will put together the changing table when there’s a place to put it up there, so in themeantime there’s stuff that will go ON the changing table in a pile, and there’s a rubbermaid of clothes and fitted diapers and liners that need to be prewashed, eventually, which will probably happen after the shower. But I’d like it to look babyish before the shower, since people will probably ask to see the room, right? Argh.

I did get the dishes done, finally, but everything just seems SO. OVER. WHELMING. right now. School, totally. The room. Getting dishes done. EVERYTHING. I feel all twisted up with school, which is SO STUPID. I mean, this is like the BEST time to be in school full time, but also? Kind of the worst. Best, because I have a pretty good schedule, it’s getting paid for, it’s VERY low-energy work, workwise. Worst, because I feel like my brain is being run through a juicer, and I just keep forgetting shit! Like, projects. SoI get behind — hell, at my last Tuesday class, i thought I was being SO GOOD and dropboxing the stuff I’d done at the school computer (but in a totally differnt building/lab than the one i work in) to sort through and then submit as projects, because I DID IT in class — and I opened them up, and it’s the wrong stuff, like I totally selected the wrong files to ‘bringhome’ and clean up and submit. Sigh. I just need to DO. IT. Sit down, and do it. It’s SO STUPID. I need to make a list, or something, and hammer through, and find someplace I don’t get wireless access, honestly.  I don’t have classes next week, so my goal is GET CAUGHT UP. Dammit.

I had an OB appt yesterday, which was fine — the same old,same old. She asked me about the sugar thing, and while I have been able to jack it up there (granted, I was trying to see what would do it, and shitloads of sugar or potatoes seem to be the best way to getit over 120) she seemed more concerned with my waking numbers, which are all 75-85, which is well under the threshold of 95, and she seemed good with that. She then said that once babies get over 8 lbs, they get more aggressive, and I piped right thehell up and said, "yeah, we need to talk about that."  I explained the LONG LINE of big-ass babies that have come out of my predecessors, complete with mitigating factors (the biggest was 9-15, my sister, and my mom SMOKED and was ON INSULIN at the time) and then the doc said "Were they all vaginal deliveries?" HELL YES, and unmedicated, too. "Oh, that’s good! I like to hear that…" was her response. I mean, 8 lbs? SHIT! That’snothing in my family. I really love my doc, and I do trust her, and i would MUCH rather go for an induction over a c-section, but 8 lbs is a damn peanut in my family. I dofeel that I have a big say in my care, and that’s good. I really don’t want to end up with a shitload of ultrasounds to ‘weigh’ the baby that (from what I’ve seen, totally anecdotally) are never, ever accurate. It seems so many people get all freaked out "OH the baby is ALREADY 7lbs so they are going to induce!" and th ebaby comes out at 6.5 lbs 2 weeks later, or whatever. Other than that, everything is fine, good heartbeat, measuring spot-on, no comments about my weight gain, so i assume she’s okay with it, too.

I just feel like the train is picking up speed and I’m not keeping up — not with getting shit ready, not with school, not with anything. All i want to do is nap and bury my head in the sand and wake up with a baby, delivered without complications, and a bank account that will support us for a year, comfortably, and my M. Ed hanging on the wall, completed. Sigh.

Shower is being scheduled for April 2, it appears, and will be at my house. (Hosted by my mom and Amy, so not a massive breach of etiquette. This sidesteps the restaurant thing, and also means the presents are opened in their final destination. Nice.)

Dave, to me, last night: "You know, you like to get up and go off for the night, and you haven’t done it in a while, and you probably should before the baby comes, because you’re probably not going to be able to for a long time after that happens…" Man, I love him.

Closest I got to maxing my blood sugar was 114, after eating a GINORMOUS bowl of triple berry oatmeal crips + a whle banana with skim milk. I mean, HUGE.  The fake crappuccino and animal crackers from the vending machine, plus a chicken salad, swiss  and veggies on ww wrap + 16oz lemonade/raspberry iced tea combo (SOOOO not sugar free) put me at 97. I had some of a (big) chocolate bar after school today, and have salsa chicken slow cooking for dinner. It’s almost a really fun game to beat the monitor now.

Baby mail! I got a box from an internet auntie (via target) with an activity mat, yay, and my sister sent me a great package as well. I was a little nervous about my sister’s package, since she is sort of flighty (just emailed me a detailed description of the miraculous new invention: the Boppy) but means well, and had said "It’s just a token gift, I wanted to send something…" so I was kind of expecting maybe "baby’s first paring knife" or something similarly in appropriate. She means well, she’s just.. you know. Her.  ANYWAY, she apparently shopped at babystyle or something, as the package included Robeez (a plain gender neutral brown, I can’t WAIT til we know the gender and I can have fun Robeez), a Zutano baby outift of white shirt and red pants, a 3 piece set of a romper, hat, and receiving blanket in a deep blue with embroidered whales, a BIG crib sixed blanket in baby blue, where one side is a silkie nylon (which is sort of an inside joke, as I have a habit from infancy of rubbing bindings between my fingers, the act of which is called "silking" in my family, and the object upon which the act is performed is the "silkie"), a bottle of California Baby Super-sensitive shampoo and bodywash, and for mama, an organic milk chocolate bar, YUM.   

30weeks today! HOLY CRAP!

I had my gestational diabetes class yesterday, which was really underwhelming, and mostly annoying. To recap, my one hour results were 135, which is the cutoff (OR IS IT, because wouldn’t that mean I passed at the cutoff?) so I had to do the 3 hour. Of the 4 draws there, the last one was "slightly elevated." So, off I go to the diabetes education center, where I’m weighed and BP is tested, and I get my little glucose meter and attend the class with 4 or 5 other pregnant women. I still think it’s bullshit that I’m even there.

To wit:

• The rest of them had high blood pressure, enough to warrant a re-test at the end of the class. I was allowed to leave with "Oh, yeah, Gretchen, your pressure was perfect, so you can go."
• In talking about their numbers, they were talking 200s range. I was at 135 and ‘slightly elevated.’
• The ‘meal plan’ looks like about what I eat anyway.
• The other women all appeared to be considerably older than me.

Hell, even when the RN went over the risk factors, I only had TWO of 7 or 8 listed — I was overweight when I got pregnant, and I’m older than 25 with my first pregnancy. And as far as the weight thing, I’d say that 4 of the 5 other women were likely more overweight than I was when I got pregnant.*

ANYWAY. I left with my little glucometer, and basically have decided that yes, I’ll test my blood every four hours, but I’m not going to freak out about my diet until I see a scientific REASON to, IE, my numbers go up. I’m to test in the morning (fasting), and 2 hrs after each major meal. My targets are to be under 95 for the fasting one, and under 120 for the post-meal readings. So far, I’ve tested three times: at the center, where I tested 2hrs after a PB sandwich and cup of yogurt, it was 80. 2hrs after my dinner of salmon, honeyglazed carrots and crescent rolls (I ain’t afraid, after FOUR crescent rolls) my number 104.  My fasting one this am was 77. Seriously. I’m so not concerned about this. I almost want to see what it takes to get over the line, if sugar-glazed sugar carrots and FOUR GODDAMN CRESCENT ROLLS (From the CAN, MMMM) can’t vault me to the limit, what can?

Don’t get me wrong — absolutely, if shit goes awry I’ll be super cautious, whatever, its my BABY, you know? But I’m not carb-counting yet, or obsessing about anything. Just pricking the finger, writing down the numbers, and keeping the food diary. I go back on March 17 tomeet with the doctor? or someone, to go over my numbers and see how things are, which I’m really sure will be fine. HELLO, not normal to chug extra sugary sugar syrup orange soda on an empty stomach. If i did THAT, I’m sure my numbers would go weird. So I won’t. SO DUMB.

(Also, a pain in the ass, since I am NOT a bleeder — when they had to do the fingerprick for the blood part of the NTS, the nurse was working her ASS off to get 5 drops onto the card, and even commented that it usually never took that much time and effort to get blood out. Last night I had to prick 3 times before a suitable blood drop formed, and I went through 2 strips with an "error" for not having enough. Sigh.)

*Incidentally, I’ve been keeping track of my weight throughout, and at 30w, I’ve gained 16lbs; I’ve gained 1 lb since 26w. I’m feeling pretty good about my weight situation so far, and am feeling confident about coming out on the other side in a good position.