Baby Alice's Birth Story

On Wednesday evening, August 8th, I wasn't feeling well when I got home from work.  We rushed right back out the door almost as soon as we arrived to take Junior to his swim class.  After getting home around 7:20pm or so we had a quick dinner (Ric.e Kr.ispies for Junior with a banana, and bean and cheese quesadillas for Mr. Amen and me).  I still wasn't feeling quite myself so I went to lay down at 8pm.  I quickly fell asleep and stayed there for the rest of the night.

Around 2am, I woke up having mild contractions.  No big deal, I thought, I had been having contractions for weeks.  Junior cried for me, so I went in his room to lay down with him until he went back to sleep.  At about 2:40am, I crawled out of his bed and wandered out into the kitchen.  I couldn't sleep so I checked the blogs, did some online reading and then headed back to bed around 3:30am.  The contractions were not very strong and were only coming every 20 minutes or so.  I figured they'd pitter out eventually, like they'd done so many times already.

We got up and got ready for the day at our usual time.  I was still having contractions and told Mr. Amen that I thought I was potentially in early labor.  His response, classic Mr. Amen, "OK, well tonight then we really need to clean up our room and dust in there."  I politely told him, "I don't know if there will be a 'tonight'.  Honey, I don't think you're listening to me, I said, I think I'm in labor.  Today could be the day."

I dropped Junior off at daycare and headed back to our house.  My mom was coming to pick me up at 8am to take me to the hospital for my scheduled non-stress test and ultrasound.  For some reason, my family doesn't trust me to be alone at the end of a pregnancy.  They have this strange fear that I won't call them in time or that I'll drive myself to the hospital saying I didn't think I was in "real" labor.  They know me well.

My mom arrived at the house right on time and took one look at me and pronounced me in labor, with a quick, "You look terrible, you're in labor."  We left for the hospital and they were running far behind so we had the ultrasound first.  Baby girl was being quite uncooperative and waited to show off her mad breathing skillz until the last 30 seconds of the test.  They weren't ready for me in the non-stress room yet, so we went to sit in the waiting room.  While we were there I was having more contractions, maybe every 12-15 minutes.  They were getting more intense and my mom thought it would be funny to take a picture of me during one and send it to my sister and dad, telling them that she thought I was in labor.  She thought it would also be a good warning to my sister to re-evaluate her life plans (she has mentioned AI to have a baby next year and she isn't married).  The picture was truly horrifying - I looked like a manatee passing a bowling ball.

Anyhow, they finally got me in for the non-stress test.  This test, if you aren't familiar, consists of mom sitting in a recliner with two monitors on her belly - one listening to the baby's heart beat, the other measuring mom's contractions.  There's also a little button mom is supposed to push when baby kicks.  Non-stress...just sit back and relax.  While I was sitting there I had several contractions probably 8-10 minutes apart and I was hoping they would see that I was in labor and keep me.  When the nurse came in, I said, "I'm having pretty good contractions."  She shrugged and said, "Not too impressive, but we'll see what the doctor says."  The on-call doctor from my practice came in and looked at the strip and said I could leave.  I said, "But I'm having good contractions."  She responded that they weren't that good and that I could always come back if they got closer together or worse.  I told her that I really thought I was in labor and asked when I should come back exactly.  She said when they are 5 minutes apart or if I am really uncomfortable.  I asked, "even if I have a history of dilating quickly?  I am a VBAC."  She sort of laughed at me and said to come back when they're worse and sent me away.

Of course, here in Michigan, where we've had a sweltering summer of weather in the 90s without a break, it was rainy and in the 60s.  I was sweating though, so my breezy cotton skirt and tank top were just fine with me.  My mom and I left and went to an outdoor mall to shop for nursing pajamas (yes, I waited until the last minute...I had three nursing night gowns, but they all shrunk).   While we were in the store I would have to stop walking and talking with each contraction; my mom was dutifully timing them on her watch.  She didn't say anything about how far apart they were unless I asked...they were still 8-10 minutes apart, but getting stronger.

While we were shopping, I saw night gowns that reminded me of my grandmothers, both of whom are deceased.  I couldn't control myself and started crying.  Ridiculous because neither of them were particularly good grandmothers, not affectionate or caring, but still I cried because I missed them.

We went to lunch and when we got there my mom said it was my "last meal."  I found that funny, thinking it was probably false labor and would stall out any minute.

After lunch was over, my contractions were a good 7-8 minutes apart and still getting stronger.  I called Mr. Amen, who was going to meet me at our doctor's office for my 39 week appointment, and asked him to stop at the house and bring our labor bag...just in case.  While I was on the phone with him, my mom saw a friend from her church and said, "It's good to see you, but I can't talk, my daughter is in labor."  I was totally embarrassed, because I still thought I was being overly dramatic and that there was no way I was in labor.  I mean, I had just gotten sent away from the hospital.

We arrived at the doctor's office and sat down in the waiting room.  Mr. Amen arrived a few minutes late, but we waited another half hour before seeing the doctor.  In the examining room I was telling Mr. Amen about my crying episode at the store and started crying all over again.  The doctor walked in and asked Mr. Amen what he had said or done to me to make me cry (he was joking); then he said he's have to send me out the back way because he didn't want me crying through his waiting room frightening the other patients.  It made me laugh.  I said that I thought I was in early labor and he went to check me but I was having a contraction (he could see my stomach all balled up) so he gave me a minute or two for it to pass then he checked me.  I was at 4-5cm and he asked when was the last time I had an ultrasound or non-stress test.  I told him I was just at the hospital and they didn't believe that I was in labor and had sent me away.  He said, "well, they shouldn't have sent you away.  You are in labor and a VBAC so we have to have you on the monitors.  Go straight to the hospital, I will call them to let them know you are coming."  Our baby was coming!!

We were really excited and couldn't believe it was here.  I threw my skirt back on and we quickly went out to get my mom.  We stopped at the bathroom again on our way out and I gave my mom my purse to take home.  I called daycare to let them know that my mom would be picking up Junior and my husband called work to let them know he wasn't coming back.  I called my dad and my brother and sister to let them know we were in labor and headed to the hospital.  I also called our doula, Bonnie, and told her we were going to the hospital.  She lives about an hour away from the hospital and I had put her on alert before the doctor appointment so she could be ready to leave if we needed her.

We arrived at the hospital at 2:15pm and were getting settled in our Labor, Delivery and Recovery room.  Mr. Amen took a picture of me in front of the clock and I was smiling, but as soon as the flash went off, I doubled over with a contraction.  It took forever to get changed and through the admittance questions.   Our doula, Bonnie, arrived at about 3:15 or 3:30 and she and Mr. Amen were a fantastic support team.  The doctor (the same one who had sent me home earlier) finally came in at 4pm to check me and break my water.  I was in the middle of a contraction when she said what she was going to do so I just agreed.  My husband and Bonnie said that they thought I had talked to Dr. Greene (my doctor) about not having my water broken.  I said "yes" because I was still in the middle of a contraction and couldn't really focus.  Bonnie and Mr. Amen were pushing on my back in a strange way saying, "you talked about this with Dr. Greene, didn't you?"  Finally, the contraction was over and I snapped out of it, "yes, I told Dr. Greene I didn't want my water broken.  I want to have it break on its own."  The doctor seemed irritated and said she would just check me instead.  I was 6cm dilated and 80% effaced.  After she was done checking me she said, "This is where your labor stalled out last time.  I'll come back at 6 to check you again to see if you've made any progress.  Don't get your hopes up."  Ahhh...the bedside manner...if only every doctor could be so kind and compassionate.

From 4pm to 5pm, I was up out of bed doing lunges during contractions, leaning over the birthing ball, which was perched on the hospital bed, and on all fours in the hospital bed rocking back and forth.  At one point, Bonnie was doing "dimple presses" on my lower back during a contraction and when it was over, asked if it was helping.  I said it made the contraction pain worse, but that I liked it because the pain meant it was doing more.  She just laughed and said I was cute...she didn't know what to do with a crazy person like me.

At 5pm, I was in so much pain.  I had gone completely natural up to this point.  I had had an epidural from almost the first moment the pitocin started with my son.  I hadn't really experienced labor pain, so I didn't know how rough it would get.  This time, I didn't have pitocin because labor was going great all on its own, but I also didn't have any pain medicine.  I started to say that I didn't think I could do this anymore.  With each contraction, I just said, "No, no, no, no, no, no" over and over again.  Even though, in my head, I realized I was in transition, I couldn't stop myself from asking for something to take the edge off the pain.  The doctor had to check me before I could have anything.  She said I was at 8cm dilated and 100% effaced.  I was offered IV pain medicine or an epidural.  I asked for the IV medicine because I didn't think I could sit still for the epidural and even though the pain was terrible, I was actually enjoying the feeling of going through labor.  I wanted to experience it so badly, I just needed something to take the bite off the top off the contractions.  The doctor said that if I wanted an epidural, I had to have it now, there wouldn't be another chance.  I hesitated for a brief moment, and the thought ran through my mind that I didn't want to disappoint Mr. Amen after all the hard work he had done to ease my pain.  I refused the epidural and instead opted for the IV medicine.  It seems like it took forever for it to arrive and I just remember asking what what taking so long for the medicine to get there.  I probably got the medicine at 5:40pm or so...and I don't think it did any good at all.  The contractions continued to be just as painful as before they administered the medicine...so maybe that means that they were actually much worse and I didn't feel them getting worse.  I really believe though that the medicine didn't have any effect on me until after I delivered.

Moments before 6pm, Mr. Amen asked the doula how we'd know when I was ready to push.  Our doula said that I would start "singing a different song with each contraction."  Just as she finished saying that a contraction started and instead of my incessant whining about the pain, there was just a low gutteral growl.  Mr. Amen was shocked and Bonnie said, "See, I told you.  A different song."  The nurse quickly checked me and said that I had a tiny lip of cervix left and to not to push yet.  She was telling me to pant, she was giving me a pant, pant, blow pattern to follow (hee, hee, whoooooo).  I was so out of it, I was doing a blow, blow, pant pattern.  I knew I was doing it wrong, but I just couldn't concentrate.  Bonnie had a warm compress pressed up against my bottom.  I remember thinking that it felt really good to have some pressure from the outside there.  The doctor came in to check me and my water broke as she did so.  There was meconium in the fluid, which means the baby had pooped already.  They told me not to push so they could page the neo-natalogist to check the baby immediately after birth. 

They had me turn onto my back and put my feet in the stirrups.  I remember them trying to get the absorbent mats underneath me and them asking me to lift my bottom up off the bed to do so.  I remember thinking it was so bizarre to have all these strangers in the room and I didn't even care that they were seeing parts of me that only my husband and doctor have ever seen - but at that point, I was beyond all attempts at modesty.  I started pushing with each contraction.  Luckily none of the nurses or doctor asked me to do the whole hold-your-breath-while-we-count-to-10-really-slowly thing.  I had already told my doula that that wasn't going to work for me.  I knew I would just wind up with a splitting headache and passing out if I had to hold my breath.  With each push I just gave a low growl and let the air out.  As I was pushing, my doula told me that she could see "an apple's worth of the baby's head."  The only thought going through my mind when she said that was, "a crappy diabetic apple or a regular apple?"  And that, my friends, is how gestational diabetes affected me.  I just wanted to know what serving size we were talking about.  Anyhow, it was encouraging to know that my pushing was effective because I felt like I didn't know what I was doing.  My doula grabbed our camera and asked Mr. Amen if I wanted her to take pictures of the delivery.  He said, "no, she does not want pictures of this."  And he was right...I did not want pictures of that.

The doctor said I was going to tear, so she did an episiotomy.  I had been scared for so long about the pain of the actual delivery, I was surprised by how much that part didn't hurt.  There was no "ring of fire" pain or burning...in fact, I didn't even realize the baby's head was out until they told me.  The nurse and Mr. Amen repositioned me and pulled my knees way back and told me to push one more time.  With that push I delivered the shoulders and the baby slid out (a sensation I will never forget).  The doctor placed the baby on my stomach and I opened my eyes to see flailing arms and legs and to hearing my baby screaming.  I was surprised to see her there and all I said was, "there's a baby on me, there's a baby on me!"

Alice was born at 6:21pm after being at the hospital for about 4 hours.  She weighed 7 lbs. 11 oz., and was 20 1/4 inches long.

We had asked for delayed cord clamping, but the doctor wanted to cut the cord right away to give the baby to the neo-natalogist to be checked out.  Mr. Amen cut the cord and the baby was carted off.  The doctor delivered the placenta and then took her time stitching me up (ouch!!).  I had asked specifically to see the placenta (because I wanted to...I don't know why), but I didn't get to do that, the doctor discarded it immediately.  Once they got baby all cleaned up they brought her over to me so I could nurse her.

I was up off the bed within a couple hours to take a shower, feeling pretty fantastic.

That's the story of how our little girl came into this world. It's been a whirlwind since then and I have several posts in the works about all the thoughts, emotions and challenges we've met so far.

Baby's Here

Our baby girl was born on August 9th at 6:21pm, 7 lbs. 11oz. 20 1/4 inches long. 

Welcome little Celia!

Birth story coming soon...I'm trying to get it down before I forget anything.  It was amazing :-)

7 Quick Takes

Here we are at the end of July and there's so much going on...I'll just give you the run down.

(1)
We are about to become a family of four.  Baby girl is due any day now (officially, August 15th) and "progress" is being made.  I had accepted that we may be a family of three and was finally OK with that outcome, so it is very surreal to me to be on the precipice of becoming a family of four.  Very strange.

(2)
Junior has always said he wanted to be a priest.  Now he thinks he may want to marry Jesse (from the To.y St.ory movies).  He's only three, so we have some time before he has to make a real decision in this department.

(3)
Work is work.  I wish I could take off some time before baby arrives, but it is not going to be possible.  There is too much work to do and I am training a new person at the same time.  It would be delightful to go into labor this weekend so as not to return to the office on Monday.  Ahhh...one can dream.

(4)
Our calendar is almost entirely clear this weekend.  I can't remember the last time we had nothing to do all weekend, but we purposefully kept it clear in case baby girl makes her grand debut.  I think Mr. Amen can't handle a "free" weekend, so he has developed an extensive "to-do list" and schedule for what we can do this weekend.  I may ignore it entirely.  Not sure yet.

(5)
Any ideas for super easy meals that can be thrown together in a crock pot or made in just a few minutes of prep time?  I have about 6 feezer meals (that serve 6 people each) stashed away...but I could stand to have a few things up my sleeve for when those meals just won't cut it.

(6)
Have I ever mentioned how much I like my OB?  I asked him if he had ever heard of sterile water injections to relieve back pain during labor and he admitted that he had never heard of them, but would be happy to learn about them.  I am sending him some information so he can read up on it.
What a cool doctor!

(7)
Speaking of a cool doctor...I also have a cool doula all lined up for the delivery.  We've had birth classes with her over the past 2 weeks and we are really glad we hired her.  She is a wealth of knowledge and very patient and reassuring.  She has me taking all sort of homeopathic "stuff" to get labor going and has me taking Red Raspberry Leaf capsules, Evening Primose Oil and a host of other stuff to get this baby out.  The urgency is that I can't really be induced because of a prior C-section.  So I have a deadline that I need to go into labor by.  All they can offer me is a little bit of pitocin to help regulate the contractions once they start going.  Come on labor!

Visit Jen for for Quick Takes and make some new cyber-friends along the way!

Killin' Me

Seriously, Hers.hey's??  You're killin' me.

I'm sitting here watching a little TV with my feet elevated to help keep the swelling at bay when a commercial comes on for Hers.hey's chocolate bars.  But not just Hers.hey's chocolate bars, it's a s'mores commercial. 

Crisp graham crackers, melty chocolate and gooey, roasted marshmallows.  I almost licked the TV.

Aren't I suffering enough?  My feelings are already hurt that I haven't gained any weight in the past 5 weeks.  I know why that is...it's because I'm hungry.  All I want is a meal that actually takes away the hunger pains.  A cup of skim milk for breakfast isn't gettin' it done.  A single PBJ for lunch with a glass of ice water isn't gettin' it done.   A salad, a mini hamburger and a half cup of mac n' cheese for dinner isn't gettin' it done.

Unless the only thing I eat is steak, steak and more steak, I can see that I'll be hungry for the next 4.5-6.5 weeks.  Is that a light I see at the end of the tunnel or is that the train barreling down on me?

But really, is the s'mores commercial necessary, Lord?  Really?

I've been away from Quick Takes for quite awhile...but I am trying to get back in the blogging habit, so here goes.

(1)

I took yesterday and today off work.  We had planned a long family weekend way back in January, but it didn't work out.  Since Mr. Amen was supposed to go to India this week for work, we "cancelled" our original plans and I made a bunch of doctor appointments yesterday instead.  Fun, fun!  We'll try again for a long weekend in July.

(2)

Speaking of three doctor appointments, I'm glad I got them all scheduled one right after the other yesterday.  First up was my 32 week appointment with the regular OB.  It wasn't my doctor, but one of his partners.  He was nice enough.  I only had one question for him about stopping the baby aspirin that I take daily.  The Maternal Fetal Medicine Specialist said I would need to stop taking it by 36 weeks.  That has me pretty nervous because I attribute this pregnancy's success to God and a daily baby aspirin.  He told me the research behind this recommendation is confusing and not exactly an easy answer.  After discussing it with him, he thought I should talk about it some more with the MFM and get some clarity behind her answer.  I was reassured that if I stop, I'm still on levoxyl and that is even better than a daily baby aspirin.

(3)

Next up was the hospital for a Non-Stress Test and an ultrasound.  I got there a little early, so I did the ultrasound early.  Baby girl scored an 8 out of 8 on her bio-physical profile within 2 minutes of starting the ultrasound.  It went so fast, the tech was kind enough to just screw around getting 3-D images of her face for me.  She's a cutie-pie...looks just like Junior.

(4)

After that, I went to see the Dietician for a follow-up on how the diabetic diet is going.  I wish there was a nice way to say to a medical professional, "I am not a moron.  Please cut with the it's really complicated crap.  It's not hard.  15g of carbs = 1 unit.  I get it.  30g of carbs = 2 units, 45g = 3 units, 60g = 4 units.  Move on."  And yes, I only had 2 "bad" numbers in the past 2 weeks from eating too many carbs in one sitting.   One was after going to Olga's for dinner when our power was out.  I ate pita snackers, my Olga sandwich (with pita), then nibbled mindlessly on Junior's pita when he didn't eat it himself.  Bad number expected and explained.  The other was Father's Day breakfast, when I made pancakes for Mr. Amen and indulged my hungry self by eating 4 of them with syrup.  Even worse number expected and explained.  Puhleeeez!  I may be hungry, but I'm not stupid.

(5)

What's that you say?  I just dropped that little India bomb in the first QT and left it there.  Yes, Mr. Amen was supposed to go to India this week.  Visa delays pushed his trip back one week, so he leaves this Monday instead.  Bummer.  He's stressed about the trip; it's going to be OK.  This is really a once in a lifetime opportunity and I'm excited for him.  It'll be hectic and tiring (for both him and me), but in the end, what a great item for his resume.  Plus, I've asked for a Sari (spelling?), no idea how you spell it, but I want an outfit.

(6)

Since I had the day off work, I kept my little monkey home with me for the day.  We went to see Grandmama and Papapa, went to the grocery store and then came home where he ate a Soy Nut Butter & Jelly sandwich, a banana and a York Peppermint Patty.  Now he's dressed as a superhero watching the gutter cleaning and bleaching guy do his thing outside.  Too cute!

Forgive the poor quality, camera phone doing duty.

(7)

After all this pregnancy talk, you should at least get a picture of my giant belly.  I think I've dropped because I can breathe much easier, but at 32 weeks, that's a little early.  Anyhow, my stretchmarks have stretchmarks and my skin feels like it's about to burst and baby girl seems to be trying to come out the top.  I just keep telling her to "keep [her] arms and legs inside the uterus at all times."  But I don't think she's listening.

Again, forgive the poor quality and the mess in the background.

Go visit Jen for more QuickTakes.  Such fun reading through everyone's posts - there are some really creative folks out there and great new friends to be made.

Pregnancy Update - GD

This pregnancy is going well.  I’ve been tired, but still able to get up every day and get to work.  I’ve been sick, but still able to make dinners most days.  I’ve been crabby, but not too much worse than usual. :-)

With Junior, I developed Gestatio.nal Diabe.tes (“GD”).  I spent the last 2.5 months of the pregnancy hungry.  I did a pretty good job of controlling my blood sugars with diet and exercise alone.  And let me tell you, even though I LOVE me some food, I’ll happily give up food if it means I don’t have to exercise.  Because I HATE me some exercise.  It was a miserable autumn for me in Michigan with the restricted diet.  Autumn is my favorite food time of the year…all the apples, apple pie, caramel apples, cider, Thanksgiving food, comfort food…mmm, my mouth just started watering while I was typing that list.  And I couldn’t eat any of it.

With this pregnancy, I started the diabetic diet right away.  I started testing my blood sugars around 13 weeks and was pleasantly surprised to see them all in the “normal” range they recommend during pregnancy.  I also had a 3 hour glucose tolerance test around 17 weeks and I passed the test…barely.  After several weeks, I stopped testing because my readings were normal and test strips are expensive so I didn’t want to waste them.  Then, around 27 weeks I went in for the one-hour glucose test.  I failed.  By A LOT.  My levels needed to be 129 or below.  I got 158.  Yikes!

My doctor ordered another 3 hour test to confirm GD, but I declined and asked them to just assume that I have it and move on.  So I avoided the “pain” of the 3 hour test, but was sent immediately for a consult with a Maternal Fetal Medicine Specialist.  Oh, and an appointment with the Diab.etes Counselor.   Fun, Fun.

I had my appointment with the MFM doctor this week and it started with a nearly hour long ultrasound.  Normally, I would be thrilled to get to peer at baby girl for that long, but my belly is really sore and having that ultrasound wand pressed all over for an hour was unpleasant to put it mildly.  Baby girl looked good…they were spending a lot of time on her heart which got me a little freaked out, but they said her heart is fine, it’s just difficult to get good images this far along in the pregnancy.  She is a wiggly little thing though, so they also had a hard time getting good measurements because she wouldn’t hold still.  After the ultrasound, I spoke with the doctor who wanted me to start either insulin at night or an oral medication to help control my morning sugars which are about 15-20 points higher than they’d like them.  Oral medication, please?  She wrote the script and sent me for my non-stress test.  Ah, the non-stress test.  Sat back, feet up, monitors on, button in hand to press when baby girl moves.  That’s the life.  I could even watch TV while they do it.  So pleasant.

Then out to scheduling.  I had forgotten how many appointments are necessary when they diagnose GD.  I am currently 30 weeks pregnant.  I need to go once a week for a non-stress test and an ultrasound biophysical profile of baby until I reach 32 weeks…then I go twice a week.  Plus my regular OB appointments.  Plus work, if I can manage to squeeze it in.

The next day I went for my diabetes counselor appointment.  I didn’t need a monitor or instructions on how to use one since I already have one and know how to use it.  So I only had to meet with the counselor for a refresher on how to determine the amount of carbs in any given food item and go over diet.  The counselor was very nice and went over my history, food allergies, food preferences and self-imposed restrictions with me.  Then she crafted a “custom” meal plan for me.  I say “custom” because there was nothing custom about it.  She managed to include all the foods I am allergic to despite our having JUST TALKED ABOUT MY ALLERGIES.  She gave me a very generous 3 units of carbs at breakfast, which I had just told her I couldn’t eat that many first thing in the morning because my sugars are too high in the morning already and if I eat more than 1 carb unit my after breakfast sugars are too high.  Oh well, I decided to ignore it and just take the plan and leave.  Now I am supposed to keep a food journal for her with the time I ate, what I ate, how much I ate and my sugars in the journal.  I also have to keep my sugars on a separate journal for her.  And I have a third journal of my sugars for the MFM specialist that has to be faxed to her every Monday morning.

I also had been keeping my sugars on an electronic app on my phone.  I hate to give that up as it gives me cool graphs, averages over the day, week, month, etc.  Who knew I would get so into journaling during this pregnancy?!?!  I sure didn’t.  I don’t think I will.

I am likely to just do the best I can on diet (it’s been good so far) and just fill in whatever the counselor wants to see on the food journal.  I’ll say I ate whatever she wants me to eat.  As long as my numbers stay in the right range and my weight gain doesn’t get out of control…I’ll be fine.  As for the 2 sugar journals…I’ll fill out the one from the MFM doctor…and the counselor will just have to get used to it.  The counselor actually said hers is easier because it is two sided…I laughed…our fax machine doesn’t do two sided faxes, so how is that easier?  Whatever.

I took the prescription for the oral medication to the pharmacy to be filled.  I told them I'd wait for it and they said it'd be ready in 15 minutes.  Forty-five minutes later, they finally called me up to the counter to ask me if I am pregnant.  I looked down at my gigantic 30+ week belly, that looks extremely full-term, then looked back at her and said, "yes." She then asked how far along I was and if my doctor knows about the pregnancy because the medication shouldn't be taken within 2 weeks of delivery.  Yes, yes, my doctor who wrote the prescription, on the prescription pad that says "Maternal Fetal Medicine Specialist", knows I am pregnant.  She even knows how far along I am if you can believe it!  I went through this same conversation with the pharmacist when I took the same medicine at the same point in my first pregnancy.  I know they are trying to be helpful, but what I really find helpful is people paying attention.  Just try it, you may like it.

So here I am, hungry again.  At least it is during the summer when my sole temptation is frozen custard at my favorite frozen custard place.  And that restriction is only in effect until I deliver, hopefully early, at the end of July or early August because I just don’t want to go all the way to August 15^th!  So I’ll still get to have my frozen custard this summer.

Stay At Home Mom?

Here in the real world, I am a WOHM (Work Outside the Home Mom).  In my fantasies, I am a SAHM (Stay At Home Mom).

I work outside our home for a few different reasons. 

First, I still have student loans we are paying off for my master’s degree.  I wish we didn’t have this debt looming over us, but we do.  I don’t regret it.  Graduate school is where I met Mr. Amen, after all.  The payment is literally more than my car payment each month, so I work to make that payment.

Secondly, I work to provide a certain level of security to our family.  Mr. Amen endured a painful nearly 2 year period of unemployment before returning to work.  My steady employment was our sole source of income during that time.  It is also our source of health insurance.  And though unemployment figures appear to be getting better, I know that it is because more people have stopped looking for work altogether, and that is what is “lowering” unemployment…they haven’t found jobs.  Just last week, a dear friend’s husband was laid off…from a really good white collar job.  This is the 4^th time he’s been laid off since I’ve known her in the past 7 years.  They have 3 children; two in private Catholic school and 1 in daycare.  They lost their health insurance with his job and will now have to get it through hers (not cheap!!).

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I trust God.  He’s never let me down before.  He always comes through for us.  I feel like one of the ways He’s provided for us has been through my job.  However much I may dislike that method, it’s the method He’s chosen for now.

But, like I said, in my dreams, I’m a stay-at-home mom.  I do creative activities with my 3 year-old.  I clean and organize my house; dust never gets a chance to collect on the shelves.  Mail is sorted and dealt with daily.  Meals are planned, coupons are clipped, bedtime is never delayed because we’ve run out of milk and a certain small person can’t go to sleep without his hot chocolate.  Grocery shopping is done leisurely during the week on Monday afternoon or Tuesday, after the store shelves are freshly stocked instead of on Sunday mornings at 8am before Mass or Thursday evenings at 9pm as the store is closing.  I plan thoughtful outings with friends and playdates for Junior.  I bake cookies, bread and crackers from scratch.  Laundry is done, folded and put away before 10:30pm.  It’s such an idyllic life.

EECK!!  Full stop.  My reality is something more akin to this:

4:50am:  Mr. Amen’s alarm goes off (he rides his bike in the am).  I am now awake (or still awake, as any 7-8 month pregnant lady can tell you).

5:15-5:30am:  Junior wakes and wanders into our room, where I lift him into bed with me and we try to lay still for a few more minutes before my alarm goes off.

5:45am:  My alarm goes off.

6:00am:  I am in the shower.

6:30am:  I am dressed and head out to get Junior ready for the day.

7:00am:  After having wrestled Junior into his clothes for the day, found his shoes, coaxed him into putting them on after stemming the ever-present flow of whine coming from his mouth, I can now concentrate on figuring out what I will have for lunch and packing it.  Honestly, though, we’re usually running late at this point, so I just start Mr. Amen’s breakfast and yell for Junior to go kiss daddy so we can leave.

7:15am:  Pack the car, seatbelt the child, leave for the day.

7:30am:  Drop off at daycare and point the car towards the office.

8:15am or so:  Arrive at work.

2:00pm:  Remember that I forgot to get something out for dinner.  Text Mr. Amen that my plan for dinner was something like grilled cheese & soup, pancakes & eggs, spaghetti or something equally as easy and non-remembering to get something out of the freezer like.

5:00-5:30pm:  Leave work in a mad dash for daycare.

6:15pm: Arrive at daycare. Sign accident/incident report of the day, because there's almost always an accident/incident report. 

6:30pm:  Arrive home.  Try to get Junior to drink something, take his shoes off and put them where we can find them in the morning. Settle him in front of the TV or a movie so I can get started on dinner.

7:15pm:  Eat dinner.

7:40pm:  Clean up dinner.

8:10pm:  Bath time and bed time routine for Junior.

8:45pm:  Hopefully Junior is in bed by now.  Decide which chore I want to do before I collapse on the couch.

9:30pm:  Start getting myself ready for bed, realize I have no clean pants/shirt for work.  Start a load of laundry.

10:00pm:  Bedtime, but let’s be honest, at this point it is more of a lay-real-still-for-a-few-hours-before-I-have-to-get-up-to-pee-without-actually-ever-falling-asleep.

So my reality is starkly different from my fantasies.  I will get a glimpse into the life of a SAHM when our baby girl is born later this summer.  When baby is born, Junior will continue at daycare for 2 weeks to give me a chance to recover from the delivery and settle in a bit with the baby.  Then he’ll be home with me and baby girl until I go back to work.  I’m excited to spend this time with him and the baby.  I have high hopes for everything we will do while I am home.  My dreams include, having a decent meal ready before 7pm each day; getting some things organized to help keep things clean(er) when I go back to work; daily mass as often as I can manage it; and remodeling the half bathroom off the garage.  I might also consider painting a few rooms.  The only room that’s been painted since we’ve moved in is Junior’s room, so we have a l-o-n-g way to go to get the house actually decorated.  Lastly, I’ll be working on meal planning, couponing and economizing to see if we could actually make it on one salary – that’ll really take some hard work as I’ve become overly dependent on convenience items which cost more.  The hope is that with a little more time to devote to couponing, grocery shopping, deal hunting, we can find a way to save.  I have a ton of questions in this area, but I’ll save those for another post.

I'm excited for the possibilities and scared that I'll love it so much I'll really suffer when I have to go back to work.  In the meantime, I'm asking the Lord if He might make a way for us to keep me at home permanently.  I am willing to accept whatever answer He may give with joy, knowing that His plan for my little family is the one that matters and will work out best anyhow.  So if it's back to work for me, then it's back to work...He may have someone there that will see Him through me or maybe it's just that He wants to provide for our family in that way.