A doctor or a midwife?

SuzyQ has patiently waited for a response to a question she raised last month: why a midwife?

I knew from the get-go that I wanted a drug-free ("natural," though some are offended by that term) delivery. The stereotypical busy, uninterested OB/GYN in a sterile white room filled with beeping machines just didn't say comfortable to me, and I knew that would be essential for relaxation. Certainly all OB/GYNs don't devalue and depersonalize the mother and her partner, but they are all medical trained and therefore more apt to prescribe medicine as the be-all, cure-all; to be preoccupied with other patients; to deliver in a hospital setting; and to order a C-section. I needed someone that said warmth, compassion, caring, understanding ... I needed someone who would be there for the whole process, not just the end of the pushing and periodic check-ups. I wanted a warm, dimly lit environment where I could play my own relaxing music (ocean waves for Bean) and it was important to not have medical equipment in the background (research has shown the mere visual or auditory suggestion of medical equipment or intervention/drugs makes for a dramatic increase in the use of it during labor).

I knew my options of midwives varied: they range from almost no scholarly background to specialized nurses or certified nurse practitioners (CNPs), which is what I selected. I wanted to avoid the hospital (too impersonal, sterile, close to medical equipment ...) but I didn't want to deliver at home (it's an apartment, I have three pets, and it's my first child so I didn't feel comfortable enough being that far away from medical help if I needed it). I looked online a bit and discovered the lucky coincidence that I live near a birthing center in Cambridge. The birthing center is an old Victorian house with waterbirthing tubs in each bedroom and it's right across from the hospital in case you need emergency attention. Perfect option, since it was a midpoint between home and hospital.

My insurance covered midwives (most do; I think midwives are generally cheaper than doctors anyway), so I picked up the phone, took a tour, meet the midwives on staff, and started going to monthly check-ups. My midwife gave me all kinds of great advice (yoga poses, Kegels, breathing, etc.) and made me feel like a human being. Not a take-a-number-have-a-seat type of setting.

If I had to do it again, I would have a midwife again and even consider a home birth. The most comfortable part of my labor experience was the time I was at home -- by far. I was in almost no pain for those eight hours and I was completely relaxed (which makes the cervix dilated go much quicker as well).

Bean's crying; gotta run. Hubby has off -- happy Fourth, everyone! Celebrate one of the few nonmaterial holidays left! -- and is making blueberry pancakes. We went for a walk in the rain earlier this morning. Love having him and baby home together.

Thanks for being patient, SuzyQ! :0)

It's an Aria world

Fair warning: this will be short and sweet, because she's starting to do the fussy-sleeping dance on my chest.

Aria was born on June 2 in the early afternoon. I was in labor about 14 hours, most of which was spent at home, pacing my hall. When I arrived at the birthing center, I was already 8 cm dilated, and they were astounished at how calm I seemed. I felt calm, and I felt drawn inward ... I probably appeared lethargic, but I was inside myself, if that makes sense. (I might not be making sense. I'm averaging about 4 hours of sleep a night--and not in a row.)

The midwife drew water for the birthing tub, and I labored in there for about an hour or two. Time meant nothing to me; my husband's giving me the estimates now. It was nice to be in the water, but I didn't like my position in there and the pillow they'd given me to support my head was super annoying. The midwife broke my water in the tub, and the pain really began then.

I moved to the bed shortly after she broke my water, and she discovered a "second bag," (a second bag of water or the remainder of the first?) which when broken, out came meconium (a sign of fetal distress) and in I went to the hospital. They transferred me on a stretcher and I remember feeling the sun hit my toes and wondering if the wind would sweep up and reveal my naked body to the passing cars.

Once in the hospital, I was pushing for about two hours before Aria was born. When she came out, they tell me, she had one hand raised up by her forehead, like a flying Superman come to save the day. (To this day, she strikes that pose in her deepest sleep.) My first glimpse of her was blurry, as the emergency pediatricans whisked her away and I didn't have my glasses on. My first real look at her was in my smiling husband's arms. She was, and is, absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. Despite the show of meconium, she was perfectly fine, and somehow I knew she would be.

I was proud of myself for not using any drugs, not even the Motrin they prescribed for the afterbirth pains and cramps. I was surprised by how few people were interested in hearing the labor story (the focus is really entirely on the baby, but it feels like giving birth is such an intense experience that some attention should be paid to that experience, a tribute somehow ...) or even asked how I was. I was also surprised at how long and not fun the physical recovery was ... it's been four weeks now, and the bleeding has just now subsided. I wasn't prepared for the afterwards, I guess.

I didn't end up using any HypnoBirthing techniques, just their philosophy: this is natural and you need to let go of control and trust your body and your baby to get through this process. The fear of the pain of giving birth is, I think, more than the actuality of it. Once you eliminate the fear--or at least cut it down to size-- you are left with an incredibly intense, but definitely do-able, experience.

I call Aria "Bean." It's strange; she and Fetus are two different beings to me, not really connected. I had been worried I would call her Fetus since we had been using that name for so long, but no. I do miss Fetus though, those tiny kicks and peaceful moments in the morning listening to the birds, imagining, sensing, just being. I can't miss Fetus for too long, though: Bean wakes me out of that fog.

Breastfeeding, on a side note, is much harder to master than it appears. I'm determined and it will get better, but my nipples were pretty upset with me for a few weeks there.

Thank you all for your good thoughts and wishes. I probably won't be blogging much this summer, but I am going to try to keep up with reading your blogs.

One week ... or two, or three, or ...

I'm officially one week from my due date today. The last few days I've felt increased tightening and pressure, which has made me excited and giddy. Who knows, though, when Fetus will really arrive. Thankfully, at my birthing center, the midwives will give you up until 42 weeks before they start (adamantly) suggesting medical induction. (Technically speaking, a human pregnancy's due date is anywhere between 38 and 42 weeks; after 42 weeks, the ability of the placenta to support the baby's life diminishes and, accordingly, the likelihood of a stillbirth increases slightly.)

I'm shocked at how few mothers don't know a pregnancy is 10 months. Others, I don't blame--I didn't know, either, and why would we, what with the media making such a fuss over 9 months? But women who have gone through the experience? Shouldn't they know any better?

I made the mistake of sending out an email to family and close friends with the subject "9 months and counting," and in-law G-ma B. instantly emailed me and all of her friends that I've never met to say I'm having a baby any day now. I didn't know how to break it to her, a woman who has had five children, that a full gestational term is 40 weeks or 10 months. Not nine. So I just let it go ... only now I'm being bombarded by emails asking if Fetus has arrived yet.

Speaking of Fetus, my G-ma B., who is an extremely devout Catholic, emailed me and said: "I want to let you know that I'm praying for the baby (not fetus)." While I understand that she's coming from the perspective of her religious beliefs, it was still something of a smack in the face. I call our baby Fetus, so you kind of told me that the most powerful action that you believe in (praying) will not be conferred upon my baby, at least not in my terms. This is also the same G-ma that wrote me a 3-page letter on how I need to adhere blindly to "the doctor's" every whim because "it's not about you anymore, Goose." Was it ever?

I have read that many mothers are sick and tired of the pregnancy at the end and "just want it out." I don't feel this way at all. I feel curious, certainly, but patient. I will miss Fetus being wrapped inside me, kicking every evening around 10 pm, making me laugh with his/her weird waving movements, rubbing my belly and knowing s/he is safe and secure ... At the same time, I'm excited to meet her/him. I can't for the life of me imagine what Fetus will look like or be like.

I picked up my library copy of Last Child in the Woods and have started reading already for Green Bean's green reading challenge, though tonight I think I'll take a long walk with the dogs instead. It's gorgeous weather today, blue jays surrounding my bird feeder and two new flowers bloomed from my strawberry plant.

Fetus coming soon

I went to the midwife's yesterday and had an internal exam. She can already feel the baby's head! She guesses that Fetus won't be here by next week, but it "might not be too long." I'm hoping Fetus lasts for at least another week, because you can't deliver in the birthing center until you're at least 37 weeks along.

When I got home, I was so excited that I couldn't go to sleep at my normal grandma hour and now I'm cleaning the house like a fiend. We still need to put the crib together, launder the new baby clothes and bedding, etc. etc. and here I am now, cleaning the toilet with baking soda. I get to meet Fetus soon!

In the world of work, J., our graphic designer, was inside the elevator with Goo Be Gone when I rode back up from my super-quick lunch break. As he scrubbed away at a Velcroed sign, he laughed and said, "I got two college degrees so I could clean elevators." As the elevator beeped and opened to my floor, I said, holding my nose from the chemical stench, "Yeah, and I got a 4.0 in college so I could make some labels." Wouldn't it be lovely to have a challenging job one day? I guess that's where Fetus comes in!

What to name a baby boy

Dreamy just asked me about this in a comment ...

So I still can't think of a boy's name. We've had a girl's name in mind for years, so that's taken care of. Some people have suggested using the girl's name if it's a boy, too, but if you knew the name and the meaning behind it, you'd know that wouldn't work.

We want to name the boy something that has meaning for both of us ... maybe after a plant or something in nature, or after an artist or writer or a color. I like what Momma Val did, using an ancestor's name for her baby's first name. We looked through some family trees, though, and found nothing exciting.

Nothing we come up with fulfills the two basic criteria: it sounds good/we can imagine calling a child that and it means something. Off beat is good, off sound is bad. We're thinking shorter is better, since our last name is somewhat long.

I'm at a loss. Open to suggestions, too. I mean, really, at this point ... I asked the midwives during orientation night how quickly we had to have a name on the birth certificate. They laughed, but the good news is you have a few days. We just might need it if Fetus is a baby boy.

Picking a pediatrician

We had our first "meet and greet" with a pediatrician today and I thought I'd post some of our questions in case anyone else is also searching for a pediatrician. I'd recommend beginning to ask for recommendations for a pediatrician around your second trimester and meeting with potential doctors in your third trimester. I think that's a pretty typical, by-the-book strategy. (Thanks to Momma Val for reminding us to start the process sooner rather than later!)

We were mostly curious about office procedures and the doctor's philosophy.

How quick are you to prescribe medicine? Do you automatically give antibiotics for ear infections?

How comfortable do you feel giving nutritional advice for vegetarian kids? For vegan kids?

What is your position on circumcision? Do you advise retracting the foreskin to clean?

How long would you recommend breastfeeding? Do you advocate feeding from one side or both per feeding? What kind of help is available for those who have difficulty breastfeeding?

How do you feel about alternative therapies?

And then the more office procedure questions:

How much time is allotted for visits?

How long is the typical wait? How much of it is spent in the waiting room?

How far in advance are you booked for well-child visits?

Who answers patient calls during the day? Emergency calls at night? Do you charge for phone advice?

Maternity leave and how you can get screwed

I could really go for some cupcakes right about now. Or maybe some cinnamon buns. Mhmmm.

It's pouring rain today, much like the pouring thoughts I'm drowning in. Choices, choices. At least they're giving me options, I guess ... bright side, bright side, think bright side.

Maternity leave: they are being a bitch.

Option 1: up to 12 weeks unpaid leave with benefits. I get to send them a check for the amount normally taken out of my paycheck every other week.

Option 2: they fire me. I'm not joking. This way, they explained, I could take more than three months and collect unemployment, but I'd have to pay COBRA meanwhile for health insurance. Taking more than three months sounds attractive, but the math certainly doesn't add up (I would net about $150/month with this option ... and I would have to lie about looking for a job because my work would hire me back). They can technically get away with this because they really are eliminating my job.

The thing that pisses me off the most is that I requested and verbally was given permission for the standard three-month leave many weeks ago, and they are putting this on me now, when I'm almost 35 weeks along. I knew that technically they could do this, but I thought they'd be a little more, uh, humane about the whole process. We definitely don't have this money, and I guess we'll take out more on Hubby's student loan to get through the summer. I'm just not willing to give up those first three months with Fetus. Hubby has already begun searching for a second job (more part-time work), which will make everything more difficult since he has filled his school schedule to more than overflowing for the summer.

As for eliminating my job, they gave me two options post-maternity leave. I can either work full-time in communications with two days a week from home (I asked for three) OR I can be contracted for one year to be a managing editor, which sounds great when I write it like that -- that's a promotion, after all -- but it's without benefits on a career track I'm not too keen on (and a host of smaller issues, like a difficult supervisor).

I haven't made any decisions yet, though I've talked with two different directors trying to push other options. Looking back to the bright side, at least I only have a month or so left and then no mas admin work!

Now can somebody get me a cupcake?!

Due dates: babies aren't library books!

This weekend has been get-ready-it's-coming. On Friday, I opened a package filled with gifts from Momma Val, including a used Brest Friend support pillow, which she highly recommends over Boppy, three beautiful (and oh-so-soft!) handmade swaddle blankets that I just love, adorable knit booties, a pass-it-on bear, and much more. Of course it made me cry. She has given me so much, not only gifts but time and advice. Thanks Momma Val! I really miss you.

I'm listening to Joe Pass and relaxing after two days spent with my mom and sister. It wasn't as tense as their visits usually are, actually, which was refreshing. We went to visit Target, where I haven't shopped in over a year, to make some returns. It was strange being back in a big-box store, especially since the only major chain I frequent is Whole Foods. My mom used her GPS system to find it and I discovered that she talks back to the GPS. The voice repeats "turn left at whatever whatever" when you're almost at the intersection, and my mom will say things like "I know! I heard you the first time!" all pissed off.

(A side note on the big-box store shopping: my goal is to frequent only farmers markets, co-ops, small mom-n-pop stores, etc., but I'm not perfect. Whole Foods. Registry at Babies R Us.)

My mom mentioned next time she saw me I'd be a full-fledged mama and that hit home. They brought up a used Fisher-Price highchair (yea for used baby items!) and the baby's crib. We haven't set up the crib yet, but the highchair is sitting in my kitchen and every time I walk by, I'm reminded of how I'm "in the home stretch" as my sister-in-law put it.

Everyone keeps asking me "how much longer?" and I find that a hard question to answer. Despite appearances, I'm not all-knowing. I usually try to say "Well, I'm almost 33 1/2 weeks now, and a full-term pregnancy is considered anywhere from 37 to 41 weeks." I read this article about due dates and how randomly 40 weeks was determined as a full gestational period. It was also interesting to read because it suggests that an early ultrasound (which I had at 8 weeks because of slight spotting) should not override a known date of last menstrual period. I knew my LMP for sure, but they still changed my due date from May 28 to June 5 based on that initial ultrasound. This could pose a problem if I deliver at 36 weeks according to the ultrasound, because at my birthing center, anything before 37 weeks is an automatic hospital delivery ... but that could be at 37 weeks if they paid attention to my LMP. Same for postterm.

Not knowing when Fetus will make his/her first appearance, I feel my baby to-do list with increasing pressure. The partial list: put together crib and rearrange furniture, final selection for a pediatrician (meet and greet scheduled for next week), write down our birth preferences, fill out birth certificate pre-delivery worksheets, create a mock-up for the baby announcements, come up with all the addresses for the announcements, design baby thank-yous, launder some of the NB and 0-3 baby clothes and some bedding, watch a DVD on the baby sling, clean the used baby books, stock the pantry, dog and cat-proof the baby areas, prepare a diaper bag, order gDiaper liners, organize a breastfeeding zone ... and the list just keeps on going. This, coupled with my hectic work flow at my job and the indecisiveness on my maternity leave, is making it harder for me to relax. I'm trying, though.

So, my maternity leave ... I caught the HR manager printing out a copy of the Family Medical Leave Act (FMLA). That makes me nervous. The act, which to me is a very bare minimum of what a parent should actually receive postpartum, mandates 12 weeks of unpaid leave--and it only applies to companies with more than 50 employees and employees who have been there for more than 12 months. Neither of those apply to me, and I certainly can't afford unpaid leave for three months. I'm astonished that my work might pull this on me, especially now that I'm almost 34 weeks along and I put in my request two months ago. Hubby and I are trying to figure out what we'll do if they make that asshole move for a typical three-month leave. The FMLA needs reform, that's for sure. How can you claim to be centered on "family values" with a policy like that and a horrendous lack of affordable childcare options? I know, family values is just as much a euphemism as the Clean Air Act, but it's pathetic how we can be fooled as a society by titles or marketing phrases.

The Boston Marathon is Monday. I can't believe we've already lived here a year.

Flat on your back

Does anyone else find it strange that the medical profession advises pregnant women to not sleep on their backs for the second half of their pregnancy ... and yet you labor on your back for hours on end, at least in America? It is a strange country when the easier angle for the doctor takes precedent over the mother's comfort and gravity's advantage.

"If you roll onto your back while sleeping, don't panic!" If you are freaking out, you take advice books way too seriously. They used to tell women to smoke and drink diet colas so they would only gain 15 pounds. Come on! Old and outdated information by the pass of each generation.

Nowadays, they also prefer you sleep on your left side toujours, not the right. This wasn't the practice for the past generation, and I wonder if it will still be true in the next generation. I can just imagine my kids saying, "yeah? Well my mom thought she could only sleep on her left side!" Better safe than sorry, so I do, but I certainly don't "panic" when I walk up in the wrong position. Besides, with this bladder, I've been waking up every 2 or 3 hours anyway.

I'm tired of professionals perpetuating and often profiting off of the fear factor. I've read pregnancy advice books where the section on things that happen to one-in-a-million is thicker than the actual description of what's going on with you and your baby. They play into your deepest fears so their pockets get heavier. What if, what if, what if is probably just as bad as if "if" actually was.

I'm checking out waterbirthing for the first stages of labor. The birthing center has a large tub specifically for that purpose, and I've heard it helps with back pain.

I had a two-hour meeting today on what our department was planning to accomplish this week ... immediately followed by a 45-minute meeting on what the whole staff was planning for the week. I told them my plans were to plan what I'm going to do this week. At this rate, it might take me all week to accomplish something.

Hubby just got home. I'm working my way through the Harry Potter series, now on book 5 ... although tonight I think we'll veg out and watch Biggest Loser. That show just sucks me in for some reason.

HypnoBirthing

Good news on the pregnancy front: we were awarded a scholarship to attend a five-week session of HypnoBirthing classes, so now we can afford to go. I'm so grateful that our community even offers that, let alone that they gave it to us. The closer I get to full-term, the more financial worries seem to be rearing their ugly head. I'm trying to not worry, though, and spend time dancing, singing, and laughing instead. But as you can imagine, I'm so relieved that we got it. And I've heard great things about the technique.

Fetus this, fetus that

I was looking back over some of my more recent entries, and I realize that a good deal of it has been Fetus-related. I don't want to be one of those people, a pre-mama obsessive like the mom bloggers described here ... but at the same time, this pregnancy is the defining point in my life. You can't escape your pregnancy, mind or body-wise. It's almost a physical manifestation of getting married. The feeling and the consequence, I guess.

I'm very aware of how much I talk about Fetus and this whole experience when I'm talking to non-mama friends. On the phone last night with my best friend, who lives a thousand miles away, I couldn't tell you how many times I brought up being pregnant. Of course, she's my best friend so she understands when I selfishly gloat, but still. It's not exactly fair to her. She asks, "what's new?" And I try in vain to think of something other than Fetus, Fetus, Fetus ... but no luck.

So if you are tired of hearing about my pregnancy, my apologies. I write about what's on my mind, and it's hard to get that kind of thing off your mind.

Speaking of marriage, my kid sister just announced her engagement to a boy she's been dating for the last year. I feel ... old. And protective.

I know, I know ... the Majora Carter lecture. I will get to it. Soon. Eventually.

Does anyone else find it humorous that the spellcheck on blogspot marks "blog" as misspelled?

Fetus makes a move

I think, at 20 weeks, I'm finally feeling Fetus move. On Sunday, I told Hubby I thought Fetus was moving but, yet again, I wasn't sure (how can I be sure if I've never felt this before?). He put his hand on my belly and right as I said "there it is!", he said "I feel it!" It was so neat for us both to be sure Fetus moved at the same time, for the first time.

So, what does a baby moving feel like? I've heard people describe it as flutters, "like gas," and round circles by an eraser. For me, it felt like when you're really hungry and your stomach gurgles big bubbles. Only it wasn't an empty-feeling bubble, but a bubble with a bit of weight to it, and the bubble protruded rather than surrounding negative space. And it was a surprisingly natural feeling. You'd think it would be an extremely odd sensation, this being moving around inside you. But really it was an extension of internal movements I've felt before, only with a much more emotional personal reaction - obviously.

I have to wonder what effect all my mass transit riding will do to Fetus when s/he grows up. Is baby going to be a roller coaster junkie?

Fetus keeps becoming a more and more concrete thing in our lives, and I'm grateful for the gradual change. Imagine if babies were born hours after conception!

I still don't feel 100% sure I'm feeling Fetus move. I feel like I need to have her/him move more actively and strongly before I can be sure that what I felt before (now) is indeed fetal movement.

Ultrasound at 19 weeks

The ultrasound was possibly the most fascinating thing I have ever watched.

Not only was it emotionally enthralling, but it was also intellectually and visually awe-inspiring. The technician showed us cross-sections of Fetus' heart, spine, ribs, and brain. During the fetal anatomy scan, he also measured all the major bones ("that is the cutest patella I have ever seen!"), took the heart rate (132), and counted the vertebrae on its spine. At one point, he measured the blood flow in Fetus, which came up as red or blue areas. My witty hubby said, "that looks like an Election Day map."

Fetus is quite the performer. At first, s/he was curled up in a very tight little ball. After my belly had been prodded for a bit, Fetus moved around. It moves; what a relief! Then it touched its toes and waved to the camera! It was such a Nicole shot but unfortunately the tech didn't take the photo. Fetus kicked, put its hands over its head, opened its mouth wide ... and it was so fascinating.

Speaking of s/he ... as soon as we walked through the door, I said, "Please, please: we don't want to know the baby's sex. Not even close." The technician smiled and assured us when it came to that area, he'd have us look away but he did have to view the genitals for the anatomy scan.

And yet ... he never had us look away. I know that they look for the absence or presence of a penis (that there says plenty about how we are socialized about gender) rather than the presence of a penis or vagina ... so does that mean we're having a girl? Or did he just realize, via my comments, that we generally had no idea what we were looking at unless we were told? I mean, he would say, "that's the forearm," and my response would be, "OK, I'll just take your word for it." Or what if he just forgot to do the anatomy scan in the genital area? I really don't want to know the baby's sex, but it made me wonder more than I have before.

Aesthetically, the ultrasound was very inspiring. I enjoyed the black-and-white abstract photos and I kept wishing I could take the technician's pictures instead. I can't think of a better word than mesmerizing.

The tech was really nice the whole time and let me pee halfway through. Apparently you only have to drink a lot of water in your first trimester for ultrasounds, not in your second or third. At least that's what he told me.

Before the ultrasound, I just about fell over when I took my weight. At the midwife's, the nurse has you pee in a cup and take your weight at the same time. Well, I peed in my cup, OK, ladeeda, and then I went to take my weight and I added a few pounds to my last weight four weeks ago ... and a few more ... and I almost felt faint by the time I got the thing to balance out. According to that scale, I had gained another 24 pounds!

I almost fell out of the bathroom begging the nurse to do it instead. These were the thoughts going through my head: how in the world ... ?; did I really eat that many potatoes?; oh my God I'm not going on a diet while I'm pregnant!: oh my God they are going to tell me to cut waaay back and I'm so hungry; I could really go for a blueberry muffin; where did all that fat go? I don't look that big, do I?; ... one of those ones with little sugar crystals on top ...; I hope I weighed myself wrong; maybe I weighed myself wrong last time and that's the real problem; no, my overall weight gain would still be incredibly too high; why do they make us watch our weight when we're pregnant? Shouldn't that be considered torture?; oh my GOD do I really weigh that much?

Fortunately the nurse did weigh me and somehow, despite my honors science classes, I had weighed myself wrong. Thank God. I gained 6 pounds in 4 weeks, which is a little more than what they advise, but 6 pounds I can do. 24 not so much.

Change

Broadcasting to you live from Diesel Cafe with a Tex-Mex wrap, no cheese, extra avocado in hand ... I enjoy wireless.

It's official. I finally fit into maternity pants. I'm so relieved. For about a month now, I've been in the inbetween stage: my regular pants were too tight and maternity pants way too large. All of the advice I've read about this stage say to wear your husband's clothes. I hardly think my office wants me to come into work in an Opeth concert shirt and baggy cords. So I've been rotating between three different pairs of pants, the ones that have always been at the back of my closet because they just don't fit right. And, even in this inbetween stage, they still don't fit right.

Another first: someone other than my immediate family has finally admitted they can "kind of tell" I'm pregnant. This floors me, because it's been quite obvious to me for more than two months now. How can you not tell? My stomach looks humongous to me already.

It is strange to have your body change as a woman. I've always had a slim build, so I've never given much thought to body image in the realm of weight before. Well, I've read and researched it as a feminist who took a lot of women's studies classes in college. And I've observed and listened to friends and family going through the pains of not having the body society wants them to. So it's not like I've been oblivious to the issue, but, as they say, it's different when you actually experience it. It has been a wake-up, personal style. Especially being in the inbetween stage, when it's not apparent that you're pregnant.

By the way, when I Google "changing body image during pregnancy," of the hundreds of hits, the majority of them advise, "Try changing your hair color!" or "Wear fun accessories!" I don't want to avoid my body's image, I want to talk about it with other women so we develop a community and an understanding of how pervasive and all-encompassing this issue is. And maybe then we can enact real change.

There is a little baby at the table across from us with her toddler brother. There are babies everywhere nowadays. It's more than me noticing it ... I wonder what they'll call this wave of babies. Boomers, Gen X, Gen Y/Millennials, then what?

Rebecca Thorman at Modite recently wrote about how Gen Y needs to recognize social media as a means and not an end. "Who will be loud enough? Who will scream?" she asks. I wonder, will we scream? With decreasing interest in traditional forms of protest, we may just be the generation that finds an alternative to screaming. Holding stock in an ethically irresponsible company versus marching on the streets for change; designing our own work-life balance while disregarding work hierarchies; rising interest in community and urban living rather than suburban white-picket fences ... We seem to hide behind computer screens and text messaging with silent forms of protest. This might seem less effective than staging sit-ins at our local campuses, but I would argue it's exactly what we need as a country. The old forms of protest aren't working anymore; we need ingenuity, innovation, and a lot of hard work. Thorman's right; we can't expect Facebook apps to change the world.

Even traditional methods for change within our government are evolving. Rather than force laws and subsequent vetoes down the hatchet of Congress and the bowels of the administration, we have cities stepping up to the challenge and successfully enforcing new laws to reflect new needs: the Internet, trans-fat and smoking bans, multi-zoning uses, et al.

Worries

I've been trying to avoid all the pitfalls of worry that loom large in this whole pregnancy thing, but it's starting to freak me out that I haven't felt the baby move yet. It doesn't help that I just got a postcard from a good friend who is due a week before me, and she writes about how active her little fetus is being.

I know I'm only 17 weeks, and most movement is felt between weeks 15 and 22. Intellectually I know this. But I'm still worrying. I feel little weird things every once in a while, but nothing like "butterflies."

I can't wait for my January ultrasound to resolve this.

Do this--no this

I have begun to dig into the avalanche that is parenting advice books, and it's giving me a headache. Never before did I realize what amount of thought goes into such simple considerations.

Do you allow your crying baby to self-soothe so s/he is a better sleeper as an adult, or do you comfort it immediately so it is reassured of your constant, loving presence? Do you breastfeed on a schedule so it knows consistency or do you feed on demand so his/her attempts at communication are acknowledged?

Every book you read tells you something different. This article does a good job at explaining the frustration and confusion that accompanies this kind of reading.

Sit down for your rights ... or stand up?

A mother with four children in the 5- to 10-year-old range got on the subway during the evening commute. It wasn't particularly crowded, being a holiday week, so the kids all found spots next to each other, which was next to me. The mom went to sit before she realized they were a seat short, and momentarily looked at me before bracing herself against a pole.

I felt like saying, "I'm sorry, but I'm four months pregnant underneath this winter coat. Otherwise, I would give you my seat." But I didn't say anything, because I hate the idea of pregnancy being an excuse (my nausea was the real reason) or a condition that I should apologize for. Still, I felt uneasy the whole ride because I'm not sure if that seat should have been hers or mine. In the end, I probably should have stood up. Her hands are more full than my uterus.

I guess you could always blame the person sitting on the other end of the kids.

I heart potatoes

This morning served up a prenatal nutritionist appointment. My parents were surprised that seeing a nutritionist is standard practice nowadays. It's interesting how much prenatal treatment changes from one generation to the next.

The nutritionist actually squealed once I had reported my weekly intake of all the food groups. Apparently I'm amazing. Playing with her fake foods was the highlight of the appointment. The salmon looked like cat puke. All of the portion sizes, the real reason behind the fake foods, were surprisingly small. She said everyone says that.

They also weighed me, and I haven't gained any weight in several weeks. Kind of odd, since my belly is ever-enlarging and I've been more interested in food since the nausea has improved. I'm still in the healthy range for being at 16 weeks, though, because I gained so much the first trimester (I still have no idea how, with all that vomiting).

She asked about fried foods, oils, sweets, caffeine ... none of which I've had except homemade french fries and olive oils. It's OK to eat the once-a-week homemade french fries, she said, since I'm eating well otherwise. The mere mention of it made me want it for dinner, of course, and I've thought about it all day. Mhmm, veggie burgers and fries!

Pondering, wandering thoughts

I'm sitting on our make-shift couch (three cushions atop a headboard) waiting for the predicted gallons of snow and listening to classical music. I'm not much of a classical music fan: I find it pretty but it just puts me to sleep. I'm also not, as you may assume, listening to the music for Fetus; it's all hubby's doing.

He's making black bean burritos and he's the one responsible for putting on this Modest Mussorgsky. What a name.

I may not totally buy into the classical-music-for-baby hype, but it is pretty neat to know his/her ears are developed now and it is beginning to hear things in the womb for the first time. I wonder if those first few noises are scary? Is it even capable of being scared or feeling emotion now?

It has been interesting telling everyone we're expecting. There were the normal reactions, of course, but then there were some surprising questions and tidbits of advice, too. Like, "was it an accident?" Well, we weren't abstaining, obviously ... Or, my favorite, "were you celebrating something?" As if you need a celebration to have sex, and furthermore how do you possibly feel you have the right to ask that question?? Privacy continues to go by the wayside.

The snow is still not here yet. The weatherperson predicts it will hit around 9 pm and continue through mid-Monday. I've found the Boston weatherpeople to be wholly unreliable, though, so I'm thinking ounces, not gallons, and Tuesday, not Monday. If it snows at all. Seriously, though, the weatherpeople out here have no idea what's going on and their forecasts seem to change from hour to hour. I don't know why I bother paying attention anyway. I kind of appreciate the fact that nature will do its thing, and it should be a surprise other than the oh-look-at-those-clouds-rain's-a-comin' type of common person's predictions.

I have so far been amazed at the number of pregnancy books willing to "tell you everything no one else will" (they all confide in me that I will fart more) ... and yet I have found only one book that deals with an expecting couple's emotions. All of the other books dismiss the whole thing into a sentence like "you may experience some 'baby blues,' but rest assured this is normal." Postpartum isn't the only time you experience fetus/baby-related emotions! And the wide range is astonishing.

Mhmm I smell food.

OK, here's my big excuse ...

I'm pregnant!

Unfortunately this has meant more than five weeks of complete bed rest, constant vomiting, and insurance company-induced headaches over disability coverage. It's also, as you may well imagine, an extremely exciting, nerve-filled phase of adjustment. Neither the adjustment nor the vomiting has ceased, but it's gradually becoming more bearable.

Hubby is making a Tofurky roast tomorrow, complete with mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry potato dumplings, and stuffing. He's also starting a pumpkin "cheese"cake. Despite all this "hypermesis" junk, I've been so hungry. If I don't eat every hour and a half or so, I get cranky and even more nauseous. Pretty much the only thing that's helped is consistently eating ... and maybe the ginger ale.

Hope everyone enjoys their Thanksgiving, and has something or someone to be thankful for.