8:20 a.m.:
Mood: Bored but cheerful. Pain level: Minimal. Baby: Snug as a bug in a rug.It's been four hours since we checked into the hospital, and I've finally figured out how to a) connect to the wireless network, b) type with one arm connected to an IV and the other wrapped in a blood pressure cuff, while c) not dislodging the fetal monitor.
Here are some of my observations from this morning: (I am functioning off approximately two hours of sleep, so I apologize if they lack in profundity):
3 a.m. just might be the worst possible time to try to wake up for any reason.
March 21, 2007
A cavalcade of late-night emotions
It's midnight.
In five hours, I'll be checking into the hospital. Then, if all goes as planned, it is highly probably that my daughter will be born sometime tomorrow.
It's almost too much to comprehend.
I'm running the gamut of emotions right now.
I'm scared. Even though I trust medical technology and I'll sign up for all the drugs I can get, there will be parts of tomorrow that are going to hurt like hell.
In five hours, I'll be checking into the hospital. Then, if all goes as planned, it is highly probably that my daughter will be born sometime tomorrow.
It's almost too much to comprehend.
I'm running the gamut of emotions right now.
I'm scared. Even though I trust medical technology and I'll sign up for all the drugs I can get, there will be parts of tomorrow that are going to hurt like hell.
March 17, 2007
3 Open Letters
Dear Cadbury Company,
I understand that, in the Christian tradition, Lent is a time of conscious suffering. Enduring Gestational Diabetes while your delicious products beckon from the grocery shelves has been my personal walk through the desert (on swollen feet).
For weeks, I have come face-to-egg with your purple displays when entering Safeway to buy protein shakes and pick up insulin refills. I have turned away from the strategically placed baskets of creme eggs at the gas station counter and feigned interest in polyester roses and tasteless keychains. I have resisted the urge to break open one of your smooth chocolate eggs and lick out the sweet goo inside while drifting blissfully into a diabetic coma.
I understand that, in the Christian tradition, Lent is a time of conscious suffering. Enduring Gestational Diabetes while your delicious products beckon from the grocery shelves has been my personal walk through the desert (on swollen feet).
For weeks, I have come face-to-egg with your purple displays when entering Safeway to buy protein shakes and pick up insulin refills. I have turned away from the strategically placed baskets of creme eggs at the gas station counter and feigned interest in polyester roses and tasteless keychains. I have resisted the urge to break open one of your smooth chocolate eggs and lick out the sweet goo inside while drifting blissfully into a diabetic coma.
March 8, 2007
What's in a Ras-Birthday?
There's a Ras-Birthday on the horizon.
This morning, my doctor told me that, barring any unforeseen developments, she'd like to induce labor on March 21st.
It's reassuring to have the date set. It's a bit later than I expected (39 weeks and 1 day), but Rasbaby's doing so well that my doctor doesn't feel the need to rush things.
I've always been fascinated by birthdays.
Throughout the world, throughout human history, we have tried to understand people based on when they were born. Astrology, numerology, the Chinese zodiac, the Roman Calendar of Saints... all of them tell us that a fundamental piece of our identity or our destiny is determined by the date that we emerge from the womb.
If that's true, then might scheduled inductions and C-sections disrupt the balance of the cosmos?
This morning, my doctor told me that, barring any unforeseen developments, she'd like to induce labor on March 21st.
It's reassuring to have the date set. It's a bit later than I expected (39 weeks and 1 day), but Rasbaby's doing so well that my doctor doesn't feel the need to rush things.
I've always been fascinated by birthdays.
Throughout the world, throughout human history, we have tried to understand people based on when they were born. Astrology, numerology, the Chinese zodiac, the Roman Calendar of Saints... all of them tell us that a fundamental piece of our identity or our destiny is determined by the date that we emerge from the womb.
If that's true, then might scheduled inductions and C-sections disrupt the balance of the cosmos?
March 1, 2007
Due to medical conditions, Monica is excused from gym class for the rest of the semester
If you read last night's blog, you might be wondering where I (and Rasbaby) ended up after today's checkup.
I'm not in the hospital, and I'm sitting up in a chair, so things went better than I expected.
My blood pressure was borderline-high, so my doctor wrote a note officially excusing me from any professional responsibilities until at least 6 weeks after Rasbaby's arrival. Tomorrow will be my last day at the office, where I intend to tidy up my desk and hand off my projects to other people for the next couple of months.
Once I stop working, I don't need to start bed rest yet. I can remain reasonably active, although my doctor did recommend I avoid unnecessary stress and sodium.
And what about my favorite little fetus?
She's doing great. Her heart rate and activity level are quite healthy, so there's no reason to rush her delivery at this point. We'll let her stay where she is, at least through the weekend, and check up on her again next Monday.
There's a part of me that's disappointed to spend a portion of my maternity leave baby-less. That's another week - or two or three - that I could have spent at home being a mother.
On the other hand, I feel like I've been handed an amazing gift. I've been specifically ordered to stop working, relax, and concentrate on improving my own physical and emotional conditions. How often does anyone get this opportunity?
Maybe I'll put together an MP3 playlist for when I'm in labor. Maybe I'll finally pack my suitcase for the hospital (I'll probably need more than just makeup and Cadbury Creme Eggs). Maybe I'll go to Babies R Us on a weekday and finish decorating the nursery. Maybe I'll print out all my baby-themed blogs and paste them into a nice journal for Rasbaby's future reading.
Or maybe I'll just sleep a lot, storing up some energy reserves for midnight feedings and diaper changes.
Or maybe, the minute I'm finally able to relax and savor my time alone, my water will break and the next adventure will begin.
Either way, I'm determined to enjoy these next few days - or perhaps weeks - of focusing first and foremost on myself. Such opportunities are dwindling by the minute. I can't make them last, but I can make them count.
I'm not in the hospital, and I'm sitting up in a chair, so things went better than I expected.
My blood pressure was borderline-high, so my doctor wrote a note officially excusing me from any professional responsibilities until at least 6 weeks after Rasbaby's arrival. Tomorrow will be my last day at the office, where I intend to tidy up my desk and hand off my projects to other people for the next couple of months.
Once I stop working, I don't need to start bed rest yet. I can remain reasonably active, although my doctor did recommend I avoid unnecessary stress and sodium.
And what about my favorite little fetus?
She's doing great. Her heart rate and activity level are quite healthy, so there's no reason to rush her delivery at this point. We'll let her stay where she is, at least through the weekend, and check up on her again next Monday.
There's a part of me that's disappointed to spend a portion of my maternity leave baby-less. That's another week - or two or three - that I could have spent at home being a mother.
On the other hand, I feel like I've been handed an amazing gift. I've been specifically ordered to stop working, relax, and concentrate on improving my own physical and emotional conditions. How often does anyone get this opportunity?
Maybe I'll put together an MP3 playlist for when I'm in labor. Maybe I'll finally pack my suitcase for the hospital (I'll probably need more than just makeup and Cadbury Creme Eggs). Maybe I'll go to Babies R Us on a weekday and finish decorating the nursery. Maybe I'll print out all my baby-themed blogs and paste them into a nice journal for Rasbaby's future reading.
Or maybe I'll just sleep a lot, storing up some energy reserves for midnight feedings and diaper changes.
Or maybe, the minute I'm finally able to relax and savor my time alone, my water will break and the next adventure will begin.
Either way, I'm determined to enjoy these next few days - or perhaps weeks - of focusing first and foremost on myself. Such opportunities are dwindling by the minute. I can't make them last, but I can make them count.
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