Opinions Running Rampant

What are you gonna do?
Everyone has an opinion.

I am reminded of a walk and talk with my friend Jessica when she was pregnant where she shared with me the wisdom of this fact. It was something along the lines of--everyone has an opinion about how things should be done in pregnancy, with babies and with children. The hard part is not falling into the trap of the "I know best" mentality, and imparting your "knowledge" on others.

Its true.

You can do your best to shrug off when others impart their "wisdom" on you as the right way, the only way and definitely the best way. But the challenge on you is not to fall piece by piece, inch by inch, hair by hair, into the path of telling others how they should do it--whatever it might be (names, sleeping, feeding, discipline, etc).

Goodness, I am only 17 weeks pregnant and it has already begun. It makes me not want to tell many folks we are planning on a home birth just to avoid the comments, paranoid questions and most of all, the opinions.

Pete and I were laughing today at how many people react when we say we aren't going to find out the gender of the baby until it is born. Even this simple choice: you either find out or you don't, brings on unwanted and unbridled opinions.

"Oh wow, I could never do that".

"Oh good for you, I would never do it any other way".

"I think its silly not to find out. It makes everything so much easier".

"I think you should find out. It helps the bonding process".

Goodness. Its pretty comical. Why do people have to always make it about them? I don't really care if you did it that way or if you found out as soon as you could. Great. No judgment here. You did what was right for you and that is all that matters. I support you honoring our own judgment and your own decisions and if its different than what I choose it doesn't make me think you were wrong in any way whatsoever.

I am on a bit of a soap box at the moment...apologies.

The take away for me comes back to what my friend said way back before this pregnancy/babies thing was even a reality for us.

Our challenge is to stay clear, open and not take the opinions people share (however strong and pushy they may be) as a test of our choices. Because ours may not be "right" choices for someone else but they are, thank goodness, ours and ours alone to make. And the bigger challenge is not to do this to others.

Can't you picture it? A year from now a friend is pregnant. I am excited for her and she is sharing with me that they are considering whether or not to find out the gender of their baby. Can't you see how easy it would be to tell her she should definitely wait? There is a different way though. That of sharing our experiences while acknowledging that it worked for us but doesn't for everyone...

Its a good reminder to do our best to be aware of this in general...for all of us.

A good challenge.

Week 8: Wiggles and Prayer

Week 8 has been alright. Still puking nearly daily but the number of things I can tolerate going down my throat has increased for sure. Maybe I am getting more optimistic since I'm about to be at 9 weeks and the countdown to end of awful illness is likely within a few weeks...hopefully, I should say, not likely. I can only pray, or intend, as is my kind of praying.

Taking a rest on the mac and cheese and ramen and eating things like fried rice, potatoes, pizza, bagel with peanut and apple butter and of course my middle of the night and early morning rice cakes to absorb some of that plentiful stomach acid that leads to the nausea and pukes.

Fruit is good but still no veggies. Julie's Organic frozen yogurt, blueberry flavored...yum. That was my nighttime snack for a bit but now I am out. What I wouldn't do for a personal food shopper and a personal chef (they'd have it pretty easy right now) and fresh beverage provider and I worry that Pete is wearing out though he promises he's fine. He has had entire charge of dish duty for the past month since being at the sink and smelling the food on dirty dishes brings me running to the toilet.

He is a rock star.

Yesterday we had our first big appointment. It was a rough start to the adventure and as soon as the ferry landed at Coleman Dock in Seattle I was headed for the bathroom to have the most embarrassing puke session thus far. I made it to the toilet fine but there were women in and out of the stalls next to me who clearly heard my hacking upchuck sounds. Lovely. It made me think of the few times in the past I've heard someone puking in a public bathroom and my thoughts went immediately to drunk or bulimic for some sick reason. More likely is the pregnant puke excuse. I'll forever be more sympathetic in public rest rooms I swear.

Pete and I were equally disgusted by how cold and unfriendly the nurse tech was who called us into the office, took my blood pressure and weight and told me to put on gown open in the front. She walked out and Pete just looks at me like "what was that?"

Whatever, I tell him. We've just got to figure out a midwife soon so I can stop coming to this baby factory for check ups.

Next the nurse practitioner came in. Her name was Lucia (pronounced Loo-sha). We liked her. She did an exam and talked to us forever about birth options. We told her we'd likely be using a midwife when we found one and she was supportive of that. She told us that Swedish has nice birthing rooms with tubs but that their C-section rates were right at the national average of 20-30%.

Yeah, unless we are at high risk for some reason later in pregnancy, we will go with mid-wife and birthing center or home birth. Good to know your options though and if it has to be a hospital, Swedish is a great one: Pete was born there.

Lucia puts the magic wand in the magic hole and there we see our little embryo. Its head is half the size of its body and right about where head and body meet, yeah right there, you can clearly make out the flutter of the beating heart. Cool. She points out that its wiggling. I see it. Kinda. Pete imagines a little wave and immediately is calling it a he.

If its gonna be a boy we are gonna have to come up with some names. I think we are set with a girls name. Love it.

Speaking of praying...there is a job opening in Redmond that could mean a move back to Seattle for us. I told Tara that I was gonna google "effective praying techniques" because I want this job to work out so badly. I was kind of kidding but...what the heck?

Here's what I found. According to some person on some website that talks about prayer and relates it to quantum physics, prayer releases an energy that emanates from the human mind and has a direct effect on the environment. Okay. I believe that. Quantum physics has shown us that we change the basic nature of matter just by thinking about it and the human mind releases an energy radiation that is capable of interacting directly with matter. Whoa.

It says that with a basic understanding of the mechanics of prayer, we can use this knowledge to help us pray more effectively. Cool. I know nothing about prayer besides: "Please G-d, let that cute boy not be at school today or tomorrow or at least until this huge zit goes away". Everyone knows that kind of prayer. But I mean real prayer. The kind that heals people.

Here are the supposed keys to effective prayer:

Key One: Adding positive emotion to the energy of a prayer improves the outcome of the prayer.

When you pray, think about an event that is positive and emotionally meaningful. This event should be something that makes you feel good no matter what you were thinking about before the prayer. Research shows that this type of positive imaging improves the power and focus of the prayer.

Key Two: Repeat a prayer mantra focused on your desired outcome.

Mantras are ancient tools that are designed to empower the force of prayer. The rosary is one good example of a prayer mantra. Repetition amplifies the force of a prayer and gives it more power. Some mantras have been repeated millions of times and have a great deal of standing force attached to them. Adding your prayer to this standing force field can greatly increase the chance that it will be answered. The mantra need not be long and you don’t even have to speak the language for it to be effective. Here are some examples that you might find useful.

"AUM GUM GANAPATEYE NAMA”

This is the Ganesh Gayatri Mantra. It has been spoken for thousands of years as a tool for removing obstacles to progress and achievement.

Key Three: Pray for others; especially strangers.

When you pray for others, the energy of the prayer automatically benefits you. Most people do not know this and tend to pray only for themselves and those that they know. Praying for others, especially those that you do not know, releases a powerful force from the unconscious that benefits you as well as the recipients of the prayer.

Key Four: Pray while meditating.

While you are meditating, the mind is much calmer. The calm and focused mind generates a great deal of positive divine creative force. By praying while meditating, we take advantage of this force and make our prayers much more powerful and effective.

******************************************************************************************************************************

Alrighty then. These are the laws of effective prayer as described by some guy named Mitchell Earl Gibson, MD. I left stuff out that didn't resonate with me or, in other words, was a bit too cheesy.

With this in mind maybe I'll have a go at some prayer. I do after all have a lot to pray for right now: healthy embryo soon-to-be-fetus and some day baby, Pete staying healthy and alive to help raise this kid, my preggie-sickness passing sooner than later and with all the world troubles there's always plenty to pray for in the way of selfless prayer.

I'll give it a shot. All this down time (ouch my ass seriously hurts from being on it just too much) has got to be good for something besides reading about pregnancy and watching every show I've ever wanted to see and then some.

Notice the ultrasound that looks like a blob of nothing. Translation: See the dark oval at the bottom left of the picture? Thats the outline of my amniotic sac. Inside it (the dark area) is amniotic fluid and in the middle of all that is the embryo (two more weeks and it becomes a fetus).

See there are two little plus symbols and a dot in the middle of those marking head to rump distance (21mm or 0.8 in). From the dot up to the right is all head and from the dot down and left is rest of body. The nurse practitioner could see arms and legs moving about. We just nodded along "sure"..."right". The resolution is not so good but in a month we'll pay a bit extra for the better machines and therefore higher resolution image. What the heck right?

Transformers GO!!

I had a dream last night I was a transformer. Remember those guys on the cartoon when we were kids? There were names like Decepticon, Megatron, Optimus Prime, Cybertron and more.

In my dream I am an autobot incarnate as a motorcycle. I have a vivid image of my front wheel following a narrow road for a ways until I get to a place where I need to go up some stairs. As a motorcycle this would be hard, but as a transformer all I need to do is transform and voila, I can walk up them.

The dream was a middle of night dream so I lay there briefly grinning at the subject of my dream and since I went back to sleep I don't remember much more.

The comedy is that I am taking a generic form of Zofran (anti-emetic drug) called Ondansetron. Now if that's not a transformer name...

Guilty

Thats us during the guilty weekend.
Its funny shit actually.
We spend 13 months having at it during the time when its supposed to make something happen and for 12 of those months nothing happens.
I make a commitment to a more holistic approach, order books from Amazon and expect its gonna take a while.
Pete gets his army tested and we find out all is good there.
I make arrangements for a procedure that shoots die into ya thang and makes sure it goes through those hopefully nice and clear tubes.
We have a long, serious and fun conversation about adoption.
I feel more and more okay with the possibility that we will have a baby whether it comes out of my body or not.
The procedure can happen in month 12 but my gyn is unable to do it and I'd have to do it with doc I don't know.
I decide to wait a month so my doc can do it.
I'm supposed to call and set up the appt. the first day of my new moon.

The weekend before I pop the egg Pete and I head up to Mt. Baker to spend the weekend partying with his Mercer Island crew for some birthdays.
We party all day...all weekend long.
We do it a bunch.
I hit my head on the low ceiling of our room.
This is my blowout before I begin this awesome get clear and healthy as shit plan. Monday the egg pops.

I burn through two big books in like 3 days about getting healthy and vital and letting your body do what it needs to make a baby.
LOVE the books and start up right away.
Imagery first thing and last thing each day, no sugar, no crap, lots of veggies and fruits and yoga and dream writing.
I do this for two weeks.
I feel amazing.
Better than I have in a long time.
I am feeling very confident that doing this for a while, my body is bound to make a baby.
Or if it isn't that will be okay too.

The day my moon should arrive I wake up at 6:30am.
No alarm, just hot and anxious.
I take my temperature as I've been doing for years: first for birth control and now to understand my cycle in a way to help bring on birth.
It's higher than its ever been in the four years I've been taking it.
In fact its higher than its ever been for about 4 days now.
I can't wait for the missed moon.
I go to the bathroom and pee on a stick.
I'm supposed to wait 3 minutes for the result.

It comes in 30 seconds.
Pregnant.
I stare in total disbelief.
No fucking way.
I don't smile or giggle.

I'm protecting myself.
What if its wrong, I ask myself?
That doesn't happen.
Not this way anyhow.
False-negatives, sometimes.
False-positives, not possible unless you are on drugs that I am not.
What if I am dreaming, or tomorrow it will be gone or something.


I walk out of the bedroom into the kitchen where I hear Pete getting ready to leave. He sees me in my robe and looks at me staring at him with a weird look on my face.
He apologizes for the Indian music he is blaring and asks if it woke me.
I say I don't give a shit about the Indian music.
He asks whats wrong.
I step forward and hand him the stick.
He looks at it, and then me, and says oh my god a few times before stepping forward to hug me.
I tell him not to get too excited.
I don't know why I say that.
I'm protecting us both.
Pete leaves after kissing my face and kissing my belly and being a perfect husband.

I go for a long walk.
I do yoga in an abandoned cul de sac.
I am late to work and don't give a shit.
I still have the WTF-holy shit look on my face.

I have a seriously stressful day at work that involves high winds and rescuing children from areas where trees are falling down.
I think I am going to die numerous times.
I go home thinking that the stress may cause me to miscarry.

I pee on another stick the next morning.
It says I am still pregnant.
Holy shit.

That was a month ago.
Still pregnant.

Alien Inhabitant

You know that last post? The one about the amazing, healthy, delicious waffles? I just re-read it and it made my mouth water with queasiness. Actually the thought of eating those is pretty freaking retched. Why?

Because I have the big lie of a thing called morning sickness. No, no, no. It's not morning sickness but rather sick or close to being sick all day long broken up by small periods of time where I feel okay enough to do something.

And so I am here at my computer rather than laying still and moaning quietly to myself because I feel alright for the first time today. What brought me from crumby to alright? Freaking Ramen noodles!

If you know me you know the concept of Ramen noodles is something I left behind in, oh early college long before my undergraduate studies in whole foods nutrition. See, I know better than to eat crud like that. Its processed, nutrient empty fake food. But for me, right now, the question is pretty much what can I actually tolerate putting in my mouth? Vegetables? Barforama! Whole grains? Same, unless they are pressed into a rice cake or a cheerio. The best nutritional things I have going for me these days are chicken and cheese. Other than that it seems to be only nutrient empty-ish things like mac and cheese, ramen, cheerios and the occasional burrito, heavy on the cheese light on beans.

Lovely right? Hell, its good f-in thing I have been eating quite healthy for some time and have been on pre-natal vitamins for about 15 months (can't tolerate those right now either).

In addition I had go on a magic little anti-nausea/vomiting pill called Zofran. The first evening I was on it I had secret musings about naming our child after it. Zoffie or Frannie, Zof or Ofran. Uh...maybe not. Anyhow as it turned out the stuff works but not as great as I had hoped. Still quite nauseous through more of the day than not and still puking, though not every day now.

The plot thickens because guess how Zofran works? It inhibits serotonin production. Do you know what serotonin does in your body? Oh, about a zillion important things like mood regulation, appetite, sleep regulation and the biggie...intestinal movement. Oh really? TMI? Just wait. I'm talking non-existent poop for like 5 days now. And the bits that have come in that time are hard, dry and tiny though for how long they take to come out you'd think they were logs to be majorly proud of. You know the kind where you feel 5 lbs lighter afterward? God I miss those.

Prunes aren't working so now I am on to other ideas I've heard on the pregnancy chat rooms: apple juice and stool softener. Hoping for a miracle.

Through the haze of puke, nausea, food issues and constipation I catch glimpses of the excitement of pregnancy. Looking forward to being able to sit with it longer term in 5-7 weeks. Dear Goddess help me get through this.

Fertile Soil

The image came to me today on my way into work. I was rushing in, eating while driving (bad habit I know). Every bite of the waffle I ate was fully enjoyed seeing as I spent most of my day yesterday preparing the stinking things. See, these waffles ain't no ordinary waffles. These waffles are teeming with love and nutrients. Funny that the recipe is one of the few good things my ex gave me. Oh well. They are good.

What's in em? Buckwheat and rice flour, ground flax and cashews, apple sauce and grated carrot and zucchini. Yeah, I know, right? Amazing. I added a bit of cinnamon this time round and bingo, made 'em even better. Threw a half in the toaster oven this a.m. and spread a bit of almond and apple butter on top. Holy goodness. Worth the 20 minutes they each took to actually cook. Note to self: might need to make the batter thinner next time round.

Anyhow, back to the drive and the image that came while I drove. I was thinking about this new life plan I'm on. It involves no alcohol, no (or very little) processed sugar, no caffeine, limited animal products and a lot of whole grains, beans, fruits and veggies.

The image I had on the way to work was really rich, dark, sweet, and fertile soil. I could practically feel it as I drove, imagining it falling between my fingers. What is all that beautiful soil good for? Growing new life. What am I wanting to be good at? Growing new life. Therefore the analogy fits so nicely.

Do I pour red wine or whiskey around my new kale starts? Nay. Do I sprinkle coffee or black tea atop cilantro sprouts? Heck no. Am I mulching with hamburger meat or even chicken breasts? That would be weird. It would make the soil filled with bacteria and acidic funk.

What do I put in that sexy soil to make it extra fertile? Lots of composted vegetables, bean and grains, among other things.

It made this new plan of mine feel even more right. In fact, I think my body is screaming for it. How to make a baby? Make the soil the baby needs to grow in re-he-he-he-he-ly luscious and clean.

Here's to adzuki beans, quinoa, kale, shitake, and carrots.