on modesty

I may have had a more *ahem* wild time when I was in my twenties. I may have been more free and indulged what could be called an exhibitionist streak and lived very publicly online. But I got old and married, and became a more private person. But there's nothing like having a baby to pull yourself out of any self imposed notion of modesty or propriety.

To start there is the beautiful business of baby making. Sometimes it takes more business than others. Sometimes it takes a lot of business. But it's hard to be modest when you're checking the gauges regularly and really trying for it. But that's not even what I'm talking about.

As a pregnant lady you get accustomed to dropping trou for your doctor and/or midwife on a regular basis. And as times goes on your visits become a little closer together- really warming you up to the idea of showing a host of medical staff your goodies. Although by the last trimester you can't see them over the giant belly anyway, so at least there's that bit of added privacy built right in to the situation.

I took a birthing class at a local place. It was a bit hippy dippy for me; held in the back of a pilates studio by a doula. Considering that all I knew about birth I learned either in 9th grade biology class or self taught out of handy 'what to expect' type books.... I guess you could say I needed a class. I knew where babies came from and how they were made (thanks miracle of life!) but it seemed like a good idea to learn the stages of labor, and pain coping techniques and different situations I might encounter.

What I did learn is that it's difficult to meditate while chewing gum and not being able to hear the very quiet instructions on meditation were not in fact relaxing but incredibly stress inducing. I learned that holding ice for an extended period of time is actually pleasant when I was swollen and looking to relieve my carpel tunnel - not quite what the instructor had in mind with the breathe through the discomfort exercise. I learned that Todd and I don't have a special favorite place in which to creatively visualize ourselves in times of duress.

Also, I learned that I actually have a lot of puritanical WASPy shame/body issues. You see, we watched a few birth videos and they were exactly like you'd expect. A little dated, but full of information. Lots of clips of ladies of all sorts grunting and pushing and bouncing on their birthing balls or waddling along with their partners. I decided pretty immediately that I didn't want to give birth on an office chair while leaning into/sitting on my husband's lap as I saw one woman do. Water birth didn't seem to be so bad, I liked water. But mostly I had to stifle uncomfortable giggles as voice overs proclaimed the women to be wise and beautiful and knowing. We watched the short film 'Birth Day' about a Mexican midwife who delivers her third child at home in her hot tub with her family surrounding her and without any other help. If there was anything I was sure I did not want it was to be without any medical help, or naked on camera, or swimming with my naked family in a pool of afterbirth. And especially all of that together rolled into one. (Although at least those little boys in 'birth day' weren't going to grow up and have any of the hangups I quite clearly had.)

After each movie the doula asked, "How did that make you feel?". Uncomfortable. Embarrassed. Prudish. Awkward. But by the time I was in the hospital I was ready to show my bits and bobs to anyone who'd help get the little bugger out of me. I hardly even was able to give any thought to the fact that it was a teaching hospital, and that a very nice nurse was using my vagina as a teaching opportunity ('So this is how you place a catheter'). And by the time the baby was out I was well used to the revolving cast of strangers checking out my lady lumps.

Getting the baby to latch while breast feeding gave each nurse the chance to show me how they thought it should be done. And yes, each nurse had a little different take on it. So many people just got in there and grabbed my boobs, it was like madi gras or spring break. And now, 9 months later I'd still rather not show the class the girls if I can help it. Not because of any shame in nursing my son, but because I'd really rather keep milky mountain to myself and a select few others.

And being a stay at home mom it's been difficult for me to shower without having company most of the time (unless I get up very early, or want to shower very late in the day). Soon I am sure I'll not even be able to pee alone thanks to an increasingly mobile little boy who is about to hit his separation anxiety stage. I'm sure it'll continue to be an adventure and experience, no matter how exposed I may or may not be.

Let's hear it for the busty ladies pt 1 : bras

I make no pretense in life, I am a big girl. Bigger than I used to be since I've become a mom. And if I thought that pre-baby shopping was difficult, I am now even more challenged to find things that fit, flatter, and are comfortable enough to wear daily while still nursing the little dude. I am a stay at home mom so I could be one of those sweat suit wearing gals and to tell the truth I do sometimes stay in my lounge-pants pjs during the day. But usually I do try to put a little effort into my appearance even if I'm not leaving the apartment. While I may not always put makeup on, I do make a point to wash my face, brush my teeth, brush my hair back into a neat pony tale, and put on day clothes. I know I need a new hairstyle, but that's a post for another day. It would be far too easy for me to slide into a sloppy pit of stained and shlumpy duds and stay there. And no one wants to see that.

I gained a lot of my baby weight early on in my pregnancy and watched my 38C's become D's and then some. They're currently hanging out in the realm of the F's, and the 38 is but a distant memory. Finding a good nursing bra in my size that is comfortable, does not have an underwire and yet still supports the ladies, well... I thought it was damned near impossible until I found hot milk.

As my husband likes to say, it's a nursing bra made by a company who wants people to have more babies. They are pretty. Sexy even. And come in my size, and bigger! And are quite possibly the most comfortable bra I've worn in years, regardless of my nursing status. They're expensive-ish, though I'm strangely frugal when it comes to undies, but I have managed to buy a half dozen or so whenever they show up on zulily. I love them so much that even though I intend on weaning the boy soon(ish) I just bought a couple more bras a few weeks ago when they came up on sale again. I can not recommend them enough. (And I am addicted to zulily - you can't beat their prices for the hotmilk bras which would normally run about $60 -I get them for about half price).

It is so wonderful to have a pretty thing to wear. Even more so a pretty undergarment. Having a baby has thrown my mojo for a loop. I wasn't the type who got to feel sexy and gorgeous throughout the pregnancy, and even now almost 9 months on I'm trying to get it back. So here's to the sexy nursing bra for giving me the fit, the support and the little extra oomph to make me feel better about things all for less than the price of a victoria's secret bra.

I've tried a dozen different styles/brands from motherhood maternity and none of them fit as well, nor were half as attractive. And I experienced the dreaded inconsistent sizing, one bra's DD cup was another's C, and there's no way my girls were squeezing back into a C. Also, most of the things I've gotten from motherhood maternity fell apart after a few washings and were surprisingly expensive for such shoddy quality. And yes, for the record, I totally went straight ahead while pregnant and bought nursing bras as I went up sizes. I figured even if I didn't end up nursing, I would still need larger sizes while my cup runneth over, and I might as well have the option of a one handed clip should I need it later. And boy howdy have I needed it.

Stolen moments

He looks so darling while he's asleep, doesn't he? He's been napping for an hour already this morning. And the godawful smell of roasting garlic is once again seeping through the floorboards from the apartment below. It's not even ten a.m..

I used to love the smell of roasted garlic. But then we moved here and I got knocked up. It's like everything changed then. For some reason my neighbor always makes garlic/onion smells early in the morning, and it was so unappealing to me in my enhanced aroma detection state that it now remains largely unappealing to me. I thankfully mind it much less now if it's coming from my own oven, say around dinner time. But in the morning, while I'm still working on my coffee, and without enough sleep.... It's almost the last thing I want to smell. I do sometimes wonder what the hell that guy's eating every day though.

I am lucky that the little dude often sleeps through the night. Going to sleep around 9pm and sleeping right on through till about 5ish. Last night though, he woke up at 3:30. I mean, it's still not too bad, but I couldn't get back to sleep after I gave him a quick nursing. Everyone else in the apartment was back asleep before 4 and there I was tossing and turning till almost 6. And you know he woke up at 6:45 while Todd was in the shower.

We're at a weird stage in the little dude's sleep development. He doesn't really need to nurse in the middle of the night, and I believe that 8 months of sleeping in a mini-cosleeper in our tiny not-even-a-real-room-more-of-a-nook-off-the-kitchen is enough. But I know that Todd doesn't have the heart for letting him cry himself to sleep in his own crib in his own room on the other side of the apartment. And I'm not sure I do either. That said, I also do not really have the stamina to try the modified ferber method either. Patting and holding for a few minutes and timing and things and blah blah blah.

I'm no hippy dippy momma. I only chose the cosleeper arrangement because I was breastfeeding and I was too lazy to haul my ass to the other side of the apartment whenever the little lump needed nursing (which was like all the time for the first 12 weeks or so). I grew accustomed to having him there, smiling and cooing at me in the morning. Staring at me as he drifted off to sleep. Months ago we detached the cosleeper and put it on Todd's side of the bed. I was exhausted after months of nighttime care ( in Todd's defense he did help as much as he could in the early weeks- but after a while I told him to try to get the sleep while he could because he had work in the morning.) and since he stopped nursing frequently at night I was prepared to let Todd deal with the occasional nighttime waking and fussing.

It's the kind of thing I wish I could talk to my mom about. It's why all of the books recommend having a network of female support.It's the reason mommy groups and blogs and all of that crap exist. I know what my mom would say.... Put him in his crib and let him cry. He'll be fine. She's sort of been saying that for months. She was shocked that at 3 weeks I nursed my baby on demand, when he'd start to cry. I tried to explain that he was a newborn, and that's what they do, and how quickly breastmilk metabolizes and .... It'd been over 30 years since she had a baby, and she never breast fed. It was all a foreign concept. I guess. I don't know.

I know he'd be fine if we did let him cry-it-out. And I've friends who've successfully done that with their own children. I don't think that they are monsters. I'm even a little envious of their steely nerve and commitment. The little dude has slept a few nights in his crib (which went spectacularly, by the way). But then he started teething and got a cold. It's crazy how the littlest things can derail a baby. I think it's time to move him back to his crib at night. Maybe see if he can soothe himself if he wakes and fusses a little. Everything I've read on the subject also recommends an earlier bedtime for his age. Which is great and all, but then Todd will get maybe an hour with the baby at night during the week. That makes me sad because Todd genuinely loves his time with Gibson. He relishes the cuddles and is enjoying the more active play which he is finally capable of. But mama needs more sleep. 9 hours a night is my optimum amount.

If that means rearranging our schedule and putting the baby down at 7 so be it. I'm not sure how dinner time will work, or what the sequence of events leading up to bedtime will be. All those little details will work themselves out.

I wish I could nap in the morning like the baby does. but in order for me to make it through the first hour or so, the feeding and his happy energy - I need my coffee. And then by the time he's ready to nap (which could be for 30 minutes, or could be 90, I never know) I'm wide awake and ready to go. I guess I'm not any more focused or concise though, because I just reread this and I'm all over the page. That's what happens when I need more sleep.