Soooo, last week I was tested for pre-eclampsia, because I have very diligent midwives (for the record, my blood pressure was high for me, but not what the medical community considers high. I was feeling some stress.)
HOWEVER, I called my husband after the Midwife dropped the news of the possible complication (and whined like a spoiled brat about not wanting to spend six weeks in bed) and he told me not to google. He did google, however, and approximately three hours later during a text-message conversation wrote: "When I get back, we'll go do some baby shopping." It's how I knew that this was serious. Most of the time, my husband would rather pass a kidney stone than shop.
Last night, he tried some backpedaling, now that we know I'm fine: "It'll be nice for you to get out and shop this weekend."
Note the change from plural to singular.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Pieces of advice I wish I'd gotten about pregnancy.
This will probably become an ongoing thing, because it's not like I can remember all the pieces of advice I wish I'd gotten in one fell swoop. Dude -- yesterday I forgot my zip code, for Peter's sake. And while I entitled this "Pieces of advice I wish I'd gotten about pregnancy" it would probably be better explained as "Pieces of advice I wish I'd gotten about pregnancy or that I had listened to better or that had been explained to me in such a way that I really understood the magnitude of what is happening."
But it occurs to me that there's some stuff you don't really get from the books. I'll try to warn you if TMI is coming, so you can avoid it.
1. No matter how much you think you will not have a problem doing what you normally did, you will. Case in point: at eight weeks pregnant, I became unable to (1) run and (2) wear high heels, ever.
Prior to the infant, I could run 2-3 miles 3-4 times a week. After infant, I suited up for a run and made it ten feet before my knees ached miserably and I was winded. As for the high heels -- let's just say I used to be able to handle working a ten-hour retail shift on a stone floor in four-inch heels. I mean, my feet ached a little afterwards, but I could walk the next day. At 8 weeks, I wore my favorite comfy stacked-toe four-inch heel Wonder Woman boots and could barely limp around the apartment the next day. At now 8 months (or 7, depending on which book you read) I am unable to cross my legs without regretting it, sleep more than 3 hours at a stretch, tie my own shoes properly, bend over to pick something up without having to make a plan, lie on my back without it becoming painful, and sit or rise from a sitting position without some struggle and prayer. I am a graceless hippo wearing mascara.
2. If you don't know where the bathroom is, you should not go to that location. In fact, you should be able to get to a bathroom in no more than thirty minutes from the last one. Or you should invest in adult diapers. Because you may think you can hold it, but you can't.
3. Stretch marks happen. Research indicates that they are genetic, and you will get them no matter what happens in terms of weight or creams or what-have-you. That said, if it makes you feel better to rub an expensive cream on yourself, go on. Do whatever soothes your brain, because you will be anxious about stuff. Which brings me to:
4. Anxiety. You will be anxious about things outside your control (OMG WHAT IF I HURT THE BABY WHEN I TRIPPED OVER MY OWN FEET AND FELL ON MY STOMACH ON THE BED?) and things within your control (WTF HOW DO YOU BATHE A BABY IN THAT RIDICULOUS TUB?) Mitigate stress by being ans immediate as possible with things within your control. So I felt some bathing-baby anxiety. And I bought the tub to look at and play with and googled "giving the baby a bath" (BTW, don't do that. There are sickos in the world) and asked a nurse at one of our "How to Have a Baby and Not Screw Up Too Badly" classes. I suggest you do the same. Because you can't get rid of all of your stresses, but if you can mitigate some of the smaller ones, you will be much calmer. Oh, and my midwife is pretty sure I didn't hurt the baby by landing on my stomach -- when I told her about it, she laughed.
5. Speaking of anxiety, nest. It will also mitigate your anxiety. Once, during a particularly stressful time, my husband found me in the baby's room moving around her clothes, and then moving them back. And I knew this was ridiculous. But it calmed me. So my husband came in, and sat down, and watched me rearrange the baby's wardrobe and then put it all back in its original places. You'll be aware that what you are doing is illogical, but then again, it's calming. So do it.
But it occurs to me that there's some stuff you don't really get from the books. I'll try to warn you if TMI is coming, so you can avoid it.
1. No matter how much you think you will not have a problem doing what you normally did, you will. Case in point: at eight weeks pregnant, I became unable to (1) run and (2) wear high heels, ever.
Prior to the infant, I could run 2-3 miles 3-4 times a week. After infant, I suited up for a run and made it ten feet before my knees ached miserably and I was winded. As for the high heels -- let's just say I used to be able to handle working a ten-hour retail shift on a stone floor in four-inch heels. I mean, my feet ached a little afterwards, but I could walk the next day. At 8 weeks, I wore my favorite comfy stacked-toe four-inch heel Wonder Woman boots and could barely limp around the apartment the next day. At now 8 months (or 7, depending on which book you read) I am unable to cross my legs without regretting it, sleep more than 3 hours at a stretch, tie my own shoes properly, bend over to pick something up without having to make a plan, lie on my back without it becoming painful, and sit or rise from a sitting position without some struggle and prayer. I am a graceless hippo wearing mascara.
2. If you don't know where the bathroom is, you should not go to that location. In fact, you should be able to get to a bathroom in no more than thirty minutes from the last one. Or you should invest in adult diapers. Because you may think you can hold it, but you can't.
3. Stretch marks happen. Research indicates that they are genetic, and you will get them no matter what happens in terms of weight or creams or what-have-you. That said, if it makes you feel better to rub an expensive cream on yourself, go on. Do whatever soothes your brain, because you will be anxious about stuff. Which brings me to:
4. Anxiety. You will be anxious about things outside your control (OMG WHAT IF I HURT THE BABY WHEN I TRIPPED OVER MY OWN FEET AND FELL ON MY STOMACH ON THE BED?) and things within your control (WTF HOW DO YOU BATHE A BABY IN THAT RIDICULOUS TUB?) Mitigate stress by being ans immediate as possible with things within your control. So I felt some bathing-baby anxiety. And I bought the tub to look at and play with and googled "giving the baby a bath" (BTW, don't do that. There are sickos in the world) and asked a nurse at one of our "How to Have a Baby and Not Screw Up Too Badly" classes. I suggest you do the same. Because you can't get rid of all of your stresses, but if you can mitigate some of the smaller ones, you will be much calmer. Oh, and my midwife is pretty sure I didn't hurt the baby by landing on my stomach -- when I told her about it, she laughed.
5. Speaking of anxiety, nest. It will also mitigate your anxiety. Once, during a particularly stressful time, my husband found me in the baby's room moving around her clothes, and then moving them back. And I knew this was ridiculous. But it calmed me. So my husband came in, and sat down, and watched me rearrange the baby's wardrobe and then put it all back in its original places. You'll be aware that what you are doing is illogical, but then again, it's calming. So do it.
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