No More Bed Rest!

Hooray! We had our 36 week appointment on Friday, and Dr. Fitzgerald took me off bed rest and said we're in the clear. The baby can come at any time, and no one's going to try and prevent it. I celebrated by climbing some stairs.

Three weeks of bed rest took me from healthy pregnant lady to invalid with sausage toes. My feet are so swollen I can only wear clogs (a problem considering we received a dumping of snow on Thursday night), my fingers are so swollen I can't feel the tips of my fingers, and my face is unrecognizable to me (Dave claims I look exactly the same, but this is not true, not true at all.) I am currently icing my ankle and wearing a wrist brace. You'd think that I am injured.

So in the interest of speeding up the baby's delivery AND getting my body back, I am seeking out different homeopathic methods to get labor started and make myself feel better. And now that I'm off bed-rest, I can do more active things than before. Here is the list of new and improved aids:

1. walking, walking, walking - and climbing stairs (but no heavy lifting)

2. back to yoga and stretching exercises

3. taking Evening Primrose Oil (to thin my cervix)

4. drinking raspberry leaf tea to tone my uterine muscles, more nettle tea to increase circulation, and lots and lots of water

5. rocking positions to get the baby to turn with its back toward my stomach and its face toward my spine (prevents painful back labor and gives me relief from backache)

6. Jasmine rice in a brand-new tube sock, heated in the microwave for 2 minutes = aromatherapy + heat pad = neck and back relief

Test Run

So last night I arrived home from school after a long day, and was met at the door by an eager husband asking, "Are you having contractions?" It's kind of like, "Hi, honey, how was your day," once you reach the ninth month. But Dave wanted to know for another reason: before I left for school that morning, I had picked up around the house even though I am not supposed to be doing things like that. And "nesting," as it's called, is often a sign of labor.

I wasn't having contractions, but I did realize that I had only felt the baby kick once all day. And the day before - nothing, really. Now that the baby is bigger, the kicks have turned more into rumblings and shoves and beach waves rather than the little tickle under the ribs. I hadn't felt any of that in two days. Hmm. And I had been instructed to report this info to the doctor.

It was around 6pm, and I called the doctor office answering service to report this news. I also suspected that I might be leaking amniotic fluid, but, as you know, this is the first time we've done any of this, and sometimes I really have no idea what's going on. In early March I thought I had a bladder infection, which turned out to be the baby's head pushing on my pelvis. If I could get that wrong... who knows? So to be safe, I called the answering service.

Then Dr. Doan, one of the OBs, called back and yelled at me. "Two days!" she said. "No, you need to call us if you haven't felt the baby for half a day!" Oops. "Why didn't you call us earlier?" she demanded. I told her that I just got home. "Home from where?" she yelled. I told her school, and she sighed loudly and said, "Get to the delivery room NOW."I have to explain that Dr. Doan is a miniature-sized person with a very thick Asian accent. Some people might say that she is abrasive. Dave and I find her hilarious.

Dave and I looked at each other and said, "I guess we're going to the delivery room." But first I fed the cats and went to the bathroom three times and Dave made up a snack bag. We left the huge pile of stuff in our living room, the stuff the hospital insists you bring with you, right where it was. We didn't even take the car seat. Part of this was reasonable: even if I was in labor, they weren't going to keep me. They would tell us to go home and rest and come back when the contractions started and were closer together. And part of this was sheer dumbness.

Dave drove the car, while I sat in the passenger seat and fed him leftover meatloaf from a tupperware. Dave was hungry for dinner. I wasn't feeling much of anything except... sudden cramping. Contractions?

We arrived at the hospital area, and Dave couldn't remember which parking garage we were supposed to park in. Then we took the elevator down to the underground tunnel connecting the garage and the hospital, and Dave couldn't remember which elevator to get on. If I hadn't been there to steer him around, he would have wound up in the ICU, I believe.

We got into the labor and delivery room, I put on my snazzy hospital gown, and Dave ate the rest of the meatloaf. We were very calm. The staff kept commenting on how busy the labor and delivery floor was that evening, but we couldn't hear any sounds. Then the nurse hooked me and baby up to a monitor, checking baby's heart rate and my contractions, and suddenly, as if baby had just arrived home from a vacation to Bermuda, baby went nuts! Kicking and turning all over the place. So after two days of quiet, the minute we arrived at the hospital, baby became the center of attention. I felt a little sheepish.

We were fine. They let us go home. It was the fastest hospital visit ever. As we walked through the underground tunnel, we saw Dr. Doan, arriving to deliver someone else's baby. She saw us and said, "Two days! No, no, no!" Then she swatted me with a file she was carrying.

Dave, thinking back on our three hours of fun last night, said that the best part was how calm we were. For me, it was getting swatted by my doctor. Today we have a regularly scheduled appointment at the doctor's office, where I expect they will counsel us on the signs of labor and delivery, and give me a stern talking to for not going to the hospital sooner. But again, we're first timers. How do I know what I'm doing?

Baby Instructions

A friend sent us a funny little list of Baby Instructions. You can share in the fun by clicking here. We're thinking about attaching these instructions to bibs, so the reminder will be right there, front and center, to instruct us NOT to put the baby IN the dryer.

35 Week Belly - One Giant Ab of Steel

My belly is hard as a rock. It's like I have a superhero power, with the ability to roll off the bed without help, leaping over the cat like he's the Empire State Building! Hooray! If I was an exercise guru, I would teach others how to have their own giant Ab of Steel. Arlo hates the Ab of Steel - he refuses to sit on my lap. But Dave is attracted to the Ab of Steel like Oreo Cookies to Milk. It might have something to do with the fact that the Ab of Steel is protecting his progeny. I like to think it's because I have the largest muscle Dave has ever seen.

For Better, For Worse, In Sickness and In Pregnancy

I was in the bathtub yesterday, turning like a rotisserie chicken. Otherwise my belly gets really cold. Turning, turning, turning. Lah-de-dah. Then I decided to get out... and realized I was stuck. So I called for Dave to help me out of the bathtub, and he willingly obliged.

Then I was sitting on the couch, typing a paper, when the phone rang. The phone sat only inches away, but Dave had to answer it because I couldn't get there in time.

I have to remove my toenail polish by Tuesday morning, but I can no longer reach my toes, so I've already lined Dave up for that job, too.

When we got married, we made all those "for better, for worse, in sickness and health" promises - I just didn't realize that we'd have to make good on those promises so early in our marriage. This time last year, I didn't imagine that ten months later my husband would have to pull me out of the bathtub, or remove my nail polish, or anything else remotely associated with infirmary. But here we are.

I often read that having children affects your relationship with your partner- but I haven't once seen any acknowledgment that pregnancy affects your relationship, too. For better, I hope.

Growing, Growing, Growing... But Baby is Still Smooshed

I can't believe how large I'm getting. Tonight I was using a restaurant bathroom with a very large mirror, and a Janet Jackson song was playing over the loudspeakers, and so I wiggled a little bit to the music while I washed my hands. And I realized that I looked absolutely, 100% ridiculous dancing.

Then I fell off the couch when I reached for my drink on the coffee table. The belly weight pulled me right off!

Yesterday we had another sonogram, and this time the photos came in 3-D. The technology isn't perfect, and some of the pictures looked a bit weird, but there is one certainty: the baby is squished. Every photograph of the face shows 1. the baby has Dave's lips, 2. the baby has my nose, and 3. the baby's face is completely smooshed, like it's looking through a window and making faces. I can't help but feel bad for the littlest Reckess. But baby will be out soon (5 weeks til our due date) and will be able to stretch its face as much as it wants.

Our Rocking Chair

This rocking chair is the newest baby furniture addition to our house! My mom is responsible for painting this gorgeous piece of art, and last night Dave and I put it together - slowly. We are not the greatest carpenters.

We've decided that for now, the rocking chair is only allowed to be used when I'm doing something positive related to the baby - reading, thinking, meditating. The reason we've instituted this policy is because I'm beginning to feel a little stressed due to school responsibilities and health issues, so we've designated the chair as my special baby place. Rocking back and forth and thinking about the baby will give the chair good karma - and hopefully keep me sane until labor. After that, it's anybody's guess where I will find my sanity... hopefully when snuggling with my baby and husband.

Spring Pedicures for Pregnant Ladies

My feet are so swollen that on Thursday I couldn't even get the ball of my foot into my dress shoes, and I was due in court. Uh-oh. I found a suitable shoe alternative, but my poor little piggies screamed all day long. That called for a quick trip to SpaZend, a wonderful little day spa located next to the Onondaga School of Therapeutic Massage in downtown Syracuse, for a pedicure. Aahhhhhh.

Mostly I wanted to soak my feet and receive a nice foot massage, but then I realized that some nail polish was in order-- more specifically, nail polish that would celebrate the arrival of Spring next week. So I chose some bright red paint (they didn't have any called, "Pregnant Lady Polish," although I did ask) with the hope that the weather will warm a little bit in the next couple of weeks, allowing me to show off these beautiful toes in shoes that are less-confining and pain-inducing than my winter weather gear.

Then I tried to take a picture of the new toes, but I couldn't figure out a way to get both feet in the picture without falling over. So there you have it: one foot (kind of) in the picture peeking out from this mammoth belly.

Mass Chaos Ensues!

We've had a medically-intense week - three doctor's appointments in 7 days, another scheduled next Wednesday, and to top it all off, the veterinarian's office has become our second home due to Purna eating a large wad of ribbon and undergoing emergency surgery on Monday. Whew! The smell of antiseptic is coating our winter jackets!

On Monday, the baby weighed in at a whopping 6 pounds, and I'm on modified bed rest for the next two weeks (we'll be at 36 weeks then) to keep baby from pushing through to the other side. It's too early, baby. You need to stay in there a little longer and bake. But baby is ready to see the world and play with all the great toys we've been given... baby wants to come now, even though our due date is still 6 weeks away. The doctor said our goal is to have the baby hang out for two more weeks, and then we'll see what happens. All of this information led to Dave having a major freak-out and deciding last night that no matter what, he had to put the crib together. JUST IN CASE.

Well. Like I said, I'm on modified bed rest which means I wasn't going to help, and we didn't call a friend over because it was Friday night, and so Dave disappeared into the back room for 4 hours to battle the crib directions all by himself. Let's just say that some major steps in putting together this most important piece of furniture were missing, Dave got cranky beyond belief, and I slept through it on the couch. But now... TA-DA! The crib is ready, except we have no sheets or anything, but still...

Then this morning on the way to pick up a prescription, Dave installed the infant car seat, too. JUST IN CASE. So now we're closer to being ready for the big arrival, even though we really need the baby to stay put for at least two more weeks. Hang on, little one. 'Cuz once you come out, there's no going back in.

How Do You Put a Baby in a Car Seat? Verrrrrry Carefully

Dave and I are practicing to be parents, but it's a little difficult without an actual human being to test our skills on. This weekend we decided to open the box holding the car seat and stroller and see what we could figure out. After some finagling, we finally got the teddy bear strapped into the car seat - aren't we glad we DIDN'T try this out on a human, or else we might have dislocated an arm. The stroller, however, is still lying prostrate in the back room, ready for one of us to screw on the wheels. We think it looks great in that heap. Very user-friendly.

The Belly Cast

Ooh hoo hoo. Dave certainly looks proud of himself in the top picture. And look at me, covered in plaster! Dave and I took the time to create the belly cast this weekend, and here's the picture to prove it. We also destroyed the bathroom and a pair of sweat pants in the process, but it was worth it!

The next step is to let it dry, sand it, and paint it. I'm thinking this will be a good activity for me when my "nesting" urge kicks in prior to labor - rather than cleaning the house spotless, I think I'll finish the belly cast.

See our earlier post, Pregnant Belly as Art?, for further explanation as to how this art project entered our lives.

Banking Our Cord Blood

Now it's time for your public service message. Dave and I (with the generous support of family) have decided to bank our baby's umbilical cord blood. What this means is that at the birth, once Dave cuts the umbilical cord, the doctors will save some of the cord blood in a super-fancy plastic ziploc bag, and then Fed-Ex picks it up and delivers it to a lab in Boston. And then, hopefully, the blood will sit in the Boston lab for the next 25 years without ever being touched. In the off-chance that the baby in born with a genetic disorder or develops a disease during that 25 year time period, the cord blood will provide the necessary stem cells for treatment.

This technology is expanding rapidly - ten years ago stem cells only treated a small handful of diseases, but now they can use the technology in over 40 different cancers, hemoglobin diseases, bone marrow deficiencies, and immunodeficiencies. Current research focuses on heart disease.

The great thing about cord blood banking is that if the donor/baby eventually needs the stem cells, his/her body won't reject them. Also, the stem cells can be used for siblings, parents, or anyone who is related by blood, with a lower incidence of rejection.

There are a number of private companies out there, and we've chosen ViaCord at the advice of our doctor. He recommended them due to their longevity, financial security, and his prior experience with their employees and staff. Some states now have public cord banking, too, but New York hasn't gotten their act together enough for Dave and I to hand them a nice big check.

We are thinking of cord blood banking like life insurance: you don't want to buy it because it's creepy, but you need to buy it because it's necessary. We felt that a couple of hundred dollars a year was worth the peace of mind.

Are Those Bunny Ears I See?

I sent this photo to my mom yesterday, and she insisted I post it for all of you. I'm not exactly sure whether those pink and black things are bunny ears, space antennae, crab eyes? Because they certainly don't look like my feet.

Showing Off My Eighth Month Belly

Two photos (click on each to enlarge) for your viewing pleasure, taken at 32 weeks. Only 8 more weeks to go! Now if I could only figure out where the baby is going to go as it grows. It's getting a little cramped in there.

The baby's movements have changed substantially in the past week and a half. Rather than kicks and random movements, baby has a schedule (10pm? Law and Order is on TV - time to wake up and move!) and reflexes. So when Dave puts his head against my belly to listen in on the noises of the womb, baby kicks him in the ear. If I push on baby's feet, baby kicks back. If I rub near baby's head, baby moves. Amazing!

FYI: black maternity dress from Gap Maternity Online. Pants are beginning to be uncomfortable and slide down the belly. (For relevant musical interlude, click here to listen to the Nields' song, Shoes: Farewell My Pants) Maybe I will wear this black maternity dress every day for the rest of pregnancy???

FYI part 2: Last night Dave and I went out to dinner, and I wore sweat pants and a sweatshirt (which for anyone who knows me knows that that is NOT acceptable). Before we left the house, I asked Dave if it was ok that I didn't change. He replied, "Considering how much effort you would expend just to change clothing, it's ok. But 8 months ago, it would not have been ok." Ah, true love.

Hello, Mr. Braxton-Hicks

I have met Mr. Braxton-Hicks. You know how one day you'll meet someone for the first time, and then suddenly you'll see the person everywhere - grocery store, public bathroom, sidewalk? Well, that's a good assessment of my newfound relationship with Mr. Braxton-Hicks.

Braxton-Hicks contractions are pre-labor contractions. They are the body's way of warming up for the big event. They do not mean you are going into labor, although many a person has freaked out and driven to the hospital just to be told that she has been visited by Mr. Braxton-Hicks. Not to worry.

Last week I started getting cramps in weird places, like around my belly button (still an innie - probably never destined to be an outie, much to Dave's disappointment). They didn't last long, but they were powerful little buggers. A couple of times I gasped. They don't hurt, but they are startling to experience. Involuntary cramping can do that. I'd compare them to menstrual cramps, but again, they occur in strange places.

But then I was leaving school yesterday afternoon, carefully maneuvering through the icy parking lot and sliding a little bit, when suddenly, BAM! Contraction. My body cramped so severely I stopped walking, grabbed the nearest vehicle's side-view mirror, and practiced my yoga breathing. Whoa. After about 45 seconds, I was able to slide over to my car and take a break behind the steering wheel. The whole episode made me nervous. Please, please, please, I thought, we cannot go into labor now. It is simply too early for this. And then... nothing else happened. I wasn't in labor at all. I had been visited by Mr. Braxton-Hicks.

Later that afternoon, we had our 32 week check-up, and the Nurse Practitioner confirmed that those mysterious cramps were Braxton-Hicks contractions. The big one and the little ones. And I've already had two today. So it seems that Mr. Braxton-Hicks and I are destined to be friends for the remainder of the pregnancy. I am welcoming him because I like to think that his presence shows that my body knows how to do this. We are getting ready.