Yesterday was our all-day birthing class at the hospital. It was...interesting. While Tim joked that we learned just as much from the birth episode of The Office, there were a few aspects of the class I found enlightening.
The breathing exercises, for example, were helpful. We tried different methods of breathing in different positions while our husbands provided physical support, like massage--and while holding ice cubes in our hands so we could get a tiny (okay, REALLY tiny) taste of the discomfort we'll be enduring. I hadn't thought about breathing at all, and I was surprised at how relaxing slow, focused breaths could be. We also practiced various labor positions and holding our breath during contractions. I'm sure some stranger walking into the sight of 15 pregnant women on all fours clutching ice cubes and panting with men rolling tennis balls over our backs would've been really disturbed.
Much of the information we did already know; I guess we're more prepared than I thought. But it was nice just to be in a room with other couples in the same boat as us and to have all that time and energy to focus on just learning and thinking about birth. (Some of those couples, though, should NOT be breeding. Like the husband next to us who talked the ENTIRE time and made gross noises at every opportunity. Seriously, like, the instructor would mention water breaking and he would go "PSSHHHHH!!!" and laugh hysterically. He walked into the class shouting "PUSH, PUSH!" The future of America, people.)
At one point we watched a video of a real couple in labor and going through a vaginal delivery. It wasn't an easy birth, but I was touched by what a team the couple was--the husband was so present, quietly and lovingly coaching and encouraging his wife every step of the way, and she leaned on him completely. The moment the baby emerged and was laid on her chest, you could see the change in both of them immediately. They were parents, a family, and nothing else mattered. When the lights came up, I was relieved to look around and see at least three other women wiping away tears. (I probably would've seen the same thing if a Hallmark commercial had been shown--we're pregnant, for god's sake--but still.)
I left the class feeling, for the first time, really excited about giving birth to this baby. Up until now, I'd been so focused on just getting through the torture. Give me the drugs, hurry it along, get this child out of me. Now I feel like it's more than just something to endure. It's a really incredible thing we get to do. I'm never going to be one of those women who turns it into a spiritual experience and thinks every painful second is a noble miracle or something, but I do have a lot of respect for what a life-changing adventure it is. I want to make the most of it and not wish it away.
When we broke for lunch, we sat outside on a bench in the sunny courtyard eating our PB&Js and watched a couple loading up their car to bring their new baby home for the first time. She looked extremely sore. They both looked terrified. As we watched the man fumble with the carseat, Tim remarked that the last 9 months of their lives have all been for this moment. Wow. And in two months that's going to be us. In that same parking spot. Probably with those same looks of terror on our faces.
So, the class was mostly not that helpful but weirdly and unexpectedly enlightening at the same time. Definitely worth it--especially since it was free. Then we came home and gossiped about our classmates. Typical us.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
building a mystery
As you can see, Tim was quite busy (and sweaty) yesterday. He spent the entire day assembling baby furniture. (I contributed by bringing him sandwiches.) Many thanks to Tim's mom for the beautiful crib and my mom for the beautiful dresser (we're spoiled!).
I'll definitely post more pics as the room gets more set up.
And here's a picture of mah belleh taken today at 30 weeks:
As an aside, I was just reading in my baby book about how dangerous the common cold and flu can be for a newborn baby, and that I'm not supposed to let anyone with so much as a sore throat anywhere near the baby as she could develop pneumonia and be hospitalized. I must be a totally clueless mama, because I had no idea it was that serious. So, everyone who's coming to visit Green Bean: I forbid you to get sick! I want you to be able to cuddle her to your heart's content, not have to observe from the corner in a gas mask. That goes for you and me too, Mr. Green. Let's get some economy-sized bottles of vitamin C up in here.
In other news, my mom is coming to visit next week! We're going to do some baby shopping, paint things for Green Bean at Color Me Mine, and just spend some time together. I'm excited to see her and for her to see me so pregnant.
We also have our all-day birthing class next week. My main concern is that we only get to eat once the whole day. You can tell where my priorities are.
10 weeks until my due date. I'm not sure if that sounds like an eternity or the blink of an eye.
And lastly but most importantly, I'm thinking of getting my hair cut short-ish but I can't decide. To momcut or not to momcut?
I'll definitely post more pics as the room gets more set up.
And here's a picture of mah belleh taken today at 30 weeks:
As an aside, I was just reading in my baby book about how dangerous the common cold and flu can be for a newborn baby, and that I'm not supposed to let anyone with so much as a sore throat anywhere near the baby as she could develop pneumonia and be hospitalized. I must be a totally clueless mama, because I had no idea it was that serious. So, everyone who's coming to visit Green Bean: I forbid you to get sick! I want you to be able to cuddle her to your heart's content, not have to observe from the corner in a gas mask. That goes for you and me too, Mr. Green. Let's get some economy-sized bottles of vitamin C up in here.
In other news, my mom is coming to visit next week! We're going to do some baby shopping, paint things for Green Bean at Color Me Mine, and just spend some time together. I'm excited to see her and for her to see me so pregnant.
We also have our all-day birthing class next week. My main concern is that we only get to eat once the whole day. You can tell where my priorities are.
10 weeks until my due date. I'm not sure if that sounds like an eternity or the blink of an eye.
And lastly but most importantly, I'm thinking of getting my hair cut short-ish but I can't decide. To momcut or not to momcut?
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
big girls don't cry
There's been a shift in the Green household lately. Tim is taking out a life insurance policy. We're selling our second car to save money. We've been talking about trying to build up a down payment in case we ever get the opportunity to buy a house in the future. Tim is taking on on new businessman-like responsibilities in his career. We're concerned about things like finding a good pediatrician, taking care of our health, ensuring our financial security. Basically, we're two steps away from those furrow-browed old people sipping Metamucil and looking through brochures in commercials for retirement investments, talking about "We have to take care of our future!" I think I know what these changes are all about. I think the day we've been warned about our whole lives is upon us. We've become adults.
When Tim and I first met, my biggest worry was passing my community college astrology course and his was showing up on time to his overnight job at a group home. Now we're married with careers and having a baby. The future we dreamed about is here. We did it. But with that dream comes responsibility. We're not carefree kids anymore. And if we're feeling humbled by responsibility now, I can't imagine how sobered we'll feel when we hold our precious daughter for the first time and realize that her life depends on us. There are two emotions people consistently describe when talking about parenthood: joy and fear. I'm not used to those states co-existing. But what a privilege, to have a life so valuable you'll do anything to preserve it.
I don't mean to sound as if I think our youth is over, that from now on life will be nothing but taxes and ironing and checkbook-balancing and homework and somber family portraits in matching outfits. I fully expect Green Bean to bring a whole new mindblowing level of fun and silly to our lives. But it won't be the driving-to-Vegas-in-the-middle-of-the-night, blowing-a-whole-paycheck-on-shoes kind of fun and silly. When she gets hurt, it will be up to us to to heal her. When she can't figure out her math project (oh god), it will be up to us to help her. If someone threatens her, it will be up to us to protect her. There was a certain cheerful meaningnessless that defined life before Green Bean--and even, to a degree, before marriage--but now the joy is huge and intense and the meaning is equally huge and intense. Never again we will have nothing to lose.
That's what growing up is. Taking big steps toward a big future, even knowing how big the drop is should you fall. I look at the fulfillment our work brings us, the incredible happiness and comfort and strength of our marriage, the way my heart swells with love and awe when we see our baby on the ultrasound or feel her moving inside me, and I know there is no price too high, no challenge I wouldn't rise to in the name of this beautiful life. I may not always feel confident and prepared, but I'm ready. Bring it on, adulthood.
When Tim and I first met, my biggest worry was passing my community college astrology course and his was showing up on time to his overnight job at a group home. Now we're married with careers and having a baby. The future we dreamed about is here. We did it. But with that dream comes responsibility. We're not carefree kids anymore. And if we're feeling humbled by responsibility now, I can't imagine how sobered we'll feel when we hold our precious daughter for the first time and realize that her life depends on us. There are two emotions people consistently describe when talking about parenthood: joy and fear. I'm not used to those states co-existing. But what a privilege, to have a life so valuable you'll do anything to preserve it.
I don't mean to sound as if I think our youth is over, that from now on life will be nothing but taxes and ironing and checkbook-balancing and homework and somber family portraits in matching outfits. I fully expect Green Bean to bring a whole new mindblowing level of fun and silly to our lives. But it won't be the driving-to-Vegas-in-the-middle-of-the-night, blowing-a-whole-paycheck-on-shoes kind of fun and silly. When she gets hurt, it will be up to us to to heal her. When she can't figure out her math project (oh god), it will be up to us to help her. If someone threatens her, it will be up to us to protect her. There was a certain cheerful meaningnessless that defined life before Green Bean--and even, to a degree, before marriage--but now the joy is huge and intense and the meaning is equally huge and intense. Never again we will have nothing to lose.
That's what growing up is. Taking big steps toward a big future, even knowing how big the drop is should you fall. I look at the fulfillment our work brings us, the incredible happiness and comfort and strength of our marriage, the way my heart swells with love and awe when we see our baby on the ultrasound or feel her moving inside me, and I know there is no price too high, no challenge I wouldn't rise to in the name of this beautiful life. I may not always feel confident and prepared, but I'm ready. Bring it on, adulthood.
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