Okay, before I start chatting about random baby stuff, I’ve just gotta share a quick gripe: I’m not lovin’ the new Blogger setup.
Okay. Enough of that. Maybe I’ll get used to it. Or maybe I’ll get inspired to switch the whole shebang over to WordPress. Either way, you don’t need to hear me whine about it.
Since some general feedback to my second blogiversary questions tells me that folks WANT to hear about my soon-to-be-baby (I know, it’s a baby now…but it’s not a baby I need to “feed” or “change” or care for in any other way than simply eating and “being” wisely). I hate to disappoint, but I’m still not sure how much I’ll be sharing. Privacy for myself is one thing. Privacy for a baby (a much more desirable product, stealing-wise…if you catch my drift) is another.
But, my experiences? Sure. We’re uncharacteristically private (well, I am…Dave’s USUALLY a private person) when it comes to baby stuff, but you’ll probably be all up in mah biznizz when the event actually happens (ie I’ll probably share the birth story, if I’m able to REMEMBER it). Otherwise…names? Nope, secret. Can you put your hands on the belly? Heck no. (I will remove your hands. Don’t be offended. I’m just not cool with it.) Girl or boy? We’re not even finding out, so NO there’s not a nurse you can call to find out. (I kid you not. It was a baby pool-related question, but still. Wow.)
By no means are we being private to be meanies. It’s just a side perk. Ha! Totally kidding. We really don’t ever intend rudeness towards anyone, baby-related or not. But, as it is, we’re new to this bumpy (at times very exciting!) ride, ourselves, and need to get our footing without hearing a million opinions or suggestions. And, in all honesty, has anyone noticed how possessive, nosy, and inappropriate people can get when a baby’s involved?? They’ll do anything to see, feel, hear, smell, or kiss your child, no matter how close you are with them. They want to get the best present. They want to be the favorite. They offer to babysit, but you’re pretty sure they’d just sit around staring at it rather than changing its diaper or feeding it. (And, honestly, if we don’t trust ya with our cats…odds are….) Seriously, folks get baby caaraaaazeeeyyy, and it makes me uneasy.
So, anyhoo, here are some recent thoughts I’ve had in the midst of mad rushes of pregnancy hormones…
Cloth diapers are awesome…but terrifying. I’m not freaking out over much these days (no, really, I’m not), but the diapering situation…yep. I thought I’d finally landed on getting BumGenius All-in-Ones (having finally seen them IN REAL LIFE!), but after seeing Charlie Bananas on Target.com, I’m up in the air. My mind is currently saying “get some of both and see how it goes” but it’s not like you can return these puppies. Not sure why this all matters so much, but it does to me. *shrugs* In the end, I know I’ll find what does work for me and I’ll find myself laughing at how ridiculous I sounded. Y’know. When I’m too busy chasing around a toddler, or getting into a fight with a teenager to worry about what’s on their hiney. Heh. But, clearly I’m horrible at making decisions. And I married a guy who’s pretty much the same way.
I’m trying to remain as positive and calm as possible about my boobies (and the baby’s ability to USE them properly). I’ve read some real nightmare stories, stupidly, about months of ever-two-hour feedings with kids who won’t bottle feed pumped milk and leave bleeding nipples. It’s as terrifying as, well, cloth diapers can be. I have almost no one in my life with any nursing experience (thanks, in advance, to those who do!!!), other than “it wasn’t done in our time” and “it didn’t work for me”. I guess, ultimately, I’m staying positive and sending positive vibes to the little kicker in there – for once in my life maintaining an optimistic attitude about something (!) – in hopes that I may be one of the success stories I hear so little about. I dunno. I’ve got gusto. And I MUST have these none-too-small ta-tas for a reason. Maybe it’ll work.
We’ve got our first parenting/birthing class tonight. Sorry, I’m not sure what to call it – which AM I learning how to do, again?? Regardless, I must admit that I’ve got a bit of trepidation over it all. I’ve been quite cool and collected thus far (I’d say “laid back” to the extreme, and probably to the chagrin of any grandmas in the audience) and figure that I won’t worry ’til I have to. This is where that whole “knowledge is a beeotch” thing comes into play. Claiming ignorance won’t work anymore. But, at least the classes will help with the rare-but-vivid dreams of unknown child labor incidents. Right?? AND, perhaps it’ll inspire us to have more discussions (we’ve been doing better, though) and actually decide on some possible names. Perhaps.By the way, the current situation with l’enfant is the fact that it’s currently breech. (Oh, and I was low on iron, so I’m on supplements for that…but that’s no big.) From what I’ve heard and read, anywhere from 1/5 to 1/3 of babies are in this position at this stage in the game. So let’s not worry, m’kay? On the bright side, not much “kick you in the ribs, Mama!” moments, ha! My favorite part about the whole breech thing is the doctor’s office visit that accompanied it: Dave, visibly worried, asked what this MEANS. The doctor, visibly cool-as-a-cucumber said, “It means that if it doesn’t flip over, she’ll be having a C-section,” nonchalantly. I guess the C-section thing worries me more than anything else (drugs, I’m 50/50 on and would be okay if I have ’em…a C-section, however….) and the ease with which my doc said this freaked me out a bit. Luckily, I’m not using “just” one doctor (it’s a group of ’em) and I ultimately trust them all…but, yeah. Gonna have to advocate when the time comes.
Oh, and symptoms? Other than occasionally feeling rundown and getting unexpected heartburn (I’m usually used to it and, non-pregnant, take meds for it…but yeah….), my left ear gets WICKED loud. Like a speaker’s going out, but instead gets uber loud. I can hear my heartbeat at times, or myself eating (I’m disgusting…I can’t stand that sound), or myself trying desperately hard to focus on reading a book to students (of course, it’s muffled so I also can’t hear questions, etc). It’s nuts! And, I looked it up to see if it was, in fact, a pregnancy symptom and, sure enough, it can happen when fluid’s building up like crazy (apparently it’s not hitting my ankles much or any other place…but my frickin’ EAR CANAL?!). Can’t wait for it to stop. There are days when I have zero rest from it. And those nights are usually the ones I need the pillow between my knees and ankles to stop my back from hurting. 😉 But, seriously, things have been so easy thus far, I feel guilty complaining about anything.
And that’s really all there is to tell about Baby D. and Mommy D. and Daddy D. at the moment. Good times, good times.