To start with...

I've been pondering how to begin this blog, or what should really become of it. You see, I was originally inspired to start a 'mommy blog' months ago when I was still reeling with the very newness of becoming a first time stay at home mom, as well as really getting annoyed reading a certain blog that belonged to one of those preachy-judgey my way of child rearing is the best way- blogs. I didn't know what to do with mine except that it shouldn't come across like theirs. But then I stopped following the blogger's tweets and blog* and somehow I became more relaxed and less inspired to write my own. I was no longer annoyed to the point of action. I guess it was a double edged sword. But here I am, on another snowy day in late February trying to begin. Maybe after I bang out a sloppy opening, I will be able to carry on. Maybe I'll stop sticking commas after every dozen words. Maybe maybe maybe (should there have been some commas there? Too bad! I ran out!). Anyway, I really want to start at the beginning, maybe summing up the 9 months of pregnancy and 3 days of labor now before I really forget because believe me, I'm forgetting ten minutes ago let alone ten months or a year ago! Ah! Motherhood! I want to remember the truth. The whole un-embellished ugly truth about how my beautiful, happy and wonderful son came to be. Because as time goes on the trials and tribulations of pregnancy and delivery become more hazy and are replaced by Gibson's giggles and smiles. And while Todd and I have just gotten to the point where we can consider the possibility of trying to have another baby, I'm not necessarily ready to let the memories of this experience go. I haven't put them to rest yet.

Last year while pregnant with Gibson I had started a tumblog (you can find it here). It's got a handful of posts which are barely restrained complaints about being pregnant. But the complaining... Looking back on it all, was hardly doing it justice. I know that mothers compare birth stories like old men compare war stories, and I also know that for many woman pregnancy is an exciting and wonderful time. For me the pregnancy was really a prelude to the war of delivery. I'll start by listing the pros of being pregnant just so you don't think I'm always a negative Nelly who's ungrateful for the good things or blessings in my life:

• It was not impossible, or even apparently too hard for Todd and me to get and stay pregnant. My unspoken fears of infertility and my rational fears of another miscarriage were thankfully unfounded.
• I did not once, while pregnant with Gibson, experience 'morning sickness'. Nope, no vomit there.
• I was not put on bedrest for anything (though I sometimes wished I was) nor did I experience any serious or long lasting complications that affected my or the baby's health.
• Not having a period was pretty sweet. I'm just sayin'.
• Todd was awesome. Like a champ he helped when he could, and held me when he couldn't. He let me cry when I needed to and let me sleep whenever I passed out (oh, say, all the time). He did whatever he could whenever he could and I couldn't ask for more other than to have him carry the next child. And I guess I can't really ask for that, can I?
  

I think that's it. I really can't think of anything else that was good about being pregnant. Now onto what may appear to be a long and sometimes trifling list of what sucked about being pregnant. And I am going to warn you, some things you may not really want to know about, you may consider too much information- but I'm being straight up honest about my reality:

• I was depressed. Not to the point of considering suicide or other harmful thoughts, but to the point of not wanting to leave bed- ever. Sure there was the normal exhaustion that is known to accompany the first and third trimesters. But I hardly got any energy back for the second (maybe it was the bleak midwinter blues?) and I slept for 12-14 hours a day if I could. Constantly. More if my schedule allowed. I'd fall asleep at 8 pm and wake up at 8 am on work days, and I'd nap for a few hours on my days off. Not only was I unable to drag my ass off the couch or out of bed to set up the baby's nursery- I was hardly unable to unpack (we'd moved into our apartment just before getting pregnant and unpacking wasn't finished until well, hell, I don't think it's finished now to tell the truth). I was also overcome with fear that my prenatal depression would become full blown postpartum depression (It didn't).
• I would cry. A lot. For a long time. Over nothing. More than other pregnant ladies? I don't know. But I was sad a lot. I know this ties into the previous point, but yeah. Crying. Sometimes I even cried when I was happy. What? Yeah. And you know something, I still cry pretty easily. I didn't used to have this problem. Thanks hormones!
• Also, pregnancy rage. What? You didn't know? Oh yeah! FUN! I think I showed a LOT of self control at my job and on the subway. Let me tell you! Not a single person was harmed during that time. Grumbling under my breath was probably the most I publicly did to display this rage. But it was seething and boiling just under the surface. I wished a lot of ill on a lot of people.
• Swelling. Edema. OHMYGOD SO MUCH WATER RETENTION! I gained over 50 pounds during my pregnancy, and I am NOT a small girl. And a lot of that went away soon after delivery! Why? Because it was water! I became an ENORMOUS BALLOON full to the point of near bursting. I WAS SO SWOLLEN! My midwife did the shin-dimple test, and the dent left behind from her pressing my shin was deep enough to hold a pencil. Well, not really, but almost. It was awful. I couldn't find shoes big enough or wide enough to hold the watermelons my feet had become. I had to wear compression socks from the moment I woke up (with feet propped up) to the moment I went to bed. I was lucky however, that I did not have any blood pressure problems.
  
• The swelling was so bad that I got carpel tunnel in both wrists. It started out at first only in one and wearing a wrist brace while I slept was enough to make it better. But as the months went on I began to experience tingling and numbness in the other hand too. It would even wake me up from a deep sleep (as if my ever shrinking bladder wasn't bad enough). For a while wearing braces on both wrists at night was enough to keep the symptoms at bay. But then the numbness began to surface during the day. And I began to wear the braces on both wrists all of the time. And eventually even those didn't help and there was nothing else I could do but wait for the baby to come out and take the damned carpel tunnel back. I seriously began to worry that I'd never be able to feel my index, middle, and ring fingers on my right hand ever again. (I could as soon as the swelling went away - a few weeks after delivery) That's right! I was so swollen everywhere that even the insides of my wrists and joints were swollen! Good times!
• Skin Changes. All of the books tell you that you might experience changes in your complexion or coloring or whatever. I was blessed with skin tags and moles. Oh yeah. In fun and sexy places! In places I got so pregnant and big that I couldn't see and had to ask my doctors to check for me. And hemorrhoids, though they didn't come till the end. And by then I had so many other things going on I just couldn't care.
• Incontinence. Now, to be fair I didn't have a leaky bladder till I got sick. I was SO! SICK! for the month of June. If you made it to my baby shower you might have noticed my cough. Oh! hack hack cough cough. It was so awful and constant that I lost my voice. For 3 weeks. I was a receptionist with no voice and a hacking cough who peed her pants ever time she coughed. Oh! yeah! God bless Todd who went out and bought me Poise pads without a word about his embarrassment. He is truly a mensch. I was lucky to not have any constipation problems, but while I peed when I coughed, I could barely squeeze any urine out whenever I sat on the toilet. Which, by the end, was all the damned time. I seriously had trouble getting enough for the pee tests that were required at every OB appt. I actually don't know when my water broke (I had irregular contractions for 3 days before I went to the hospital) because of my pee situation. And all of the kegels in the world couldn't help me.
  
• The cough was so bad the week before I had Gibson that first I pulled something on one side of my back during a coughing fit. This made it very painful to get up or move. But then a few days later I actually cracked a rib during another coughing fit. With that it was almost unbearable to move. Couple that with days worth of contractions and I was SO! miserable! and un-rested! by the time we went to the hospital (a monday night at 11pm). I said yes to the epidural a few hours after my being admitted more for relief from my existing back pain from the cough than fear or pain from contractions and possible delivery.
  

This leads me to delivery, which was a hoot and a half as well. But the baby's up from his nap and I'll save the birth story for my next entry. And once all of that's out of the way maybe I can just dish on what it's like for me now. I'm trying to find my footing and identity as a stay at home mom and remind myself that I do have a big beautiful brain that's capable of more intellectual things sometimes. It's hard. Harder than I imagined. So if you're not completely turned off by my little self indulgence, please come back and check for more.


I appreciate your reading this, assuming someone somewhere is. You're welcome to leave feedback, though I would prefer it if you didn't tell me how bad a writer I am (I was never good at it, but now I'm even worse- being rusty and out of practice and full of run on sentences and no grasp on grammar.) or self indulgent it is, because I know. Believe me, I know. I guess I'm just a little bit lonely and have an ever failing memory. So if you want to share your story or experience with me in any way you are most welcome to. I don't have a tight network of close female friends. Heck I hardly have a loose one. And while it seems that most of the ladies I know have now, or are about to have a baby/babies/child/children, I don't have that bond or connection with them, or even physical closeness. And so, I'm sharing my story with the faceless internet. I can't seem to carve the time out for old fashioned journal keeping anymore, so I only hope that my thoughts are vaguely coherent.


* I highly recommend you stop subjecting yourself to people that annoy you in some way. You can't avoid everyone who bothers you, but in some cases, such as the internet- there's no reason to keep following people who make you mad. (Unless you really like to complain about them- which I sometimes do, because I am nothing if not an excellent bitcher and moaner.) You might find yourself pleasantly surprised at how much peace it brings to your life.