False Labor

Yesterday-- St. Patrick's Day-- and I was supposed to spend the afternoon with my girl baking a green cake as promised.  Instead, I was thrown into an episode of fairly strong, quite painful false-labor contractions.  We are only 18 days away from the due date now, and it was pretty scary how fast and strong everything came on.  Tyler came home to help, and Violet was frightened and hid behind a towel in the bathroom.  We were able to explain to her that everything was ok, that growing a baby is just a really hard thing to do, and sometimes it hurts a lot-- but that it's supposed to be that way-- and she came out and hugged my belly and looked me in the eyes.  Her big brown eyes, so warm and sweet and loving-- just like her dad's.  She's such a strong and understanding little person; we all managed to relax, eventually (a few episodes of Strawberry Shortcake helped quite a bit too :)  

Anyway-- The contractions were irregular, and I was able to ease them by lying down, drinking a ton of water, and then finally falling asleep. 

When I woke up, there were all of these wonderful pictures taped up around the bed that Tyler and Violet had made for me; Pictures of flowers, and donuts, and leprechauns along with sweet messages.  Violet's most special giraffe (G-Raff)-- the same G-Raff who got her through India-- was nested under my chin.  Everything was warm and calm again.  

It was a hard day, but in a lot of ways, the memory of it all will definitely be with me when the "real" time comes.  The love in our little house is intensely powerful and supportive, and sometimes it's good to be reminded of that.  So maybe it was worth it? 

Well, at least it got Tyler and me to finally pack a hospital bag :)  

  

8 Months

8 months.  Phew.

Tuesday was March 11th, which means there is just one month to go until our baby is due.  I feel like I've been making a lot of progress in getting ready for her--  putting her room together, hanging some bird drawings here and there, washing and folding onesies and swaddling blankets, and balling little socks.  There are lots of little projects I'd love to do before she's born... but honestly the liberating thing about being pregnant the second time around is you realize how actually very little a newborn really needs.   --And everything that was useful the first time, I saved.

8 months down, one to go (Maybe less?  then again, maybe more.  You never know.. but Violet was early, so I'm hoping....). 

I do feel like I'm already getting to know this little one, which is really crazy weird and cool.  I never really felt this way during my first pregnancy.  For the past couple months, I've been able to tell exactly where her head is, where her little [hard] rump is, and where her feet are.  Tyler and I have been calling her by her name for a while now (sorry, still won't tell), and, although I've been quite consumed with how Violet will handle everything, the house is already in a very strange way, feeling a little empty without this other tiny person here.  Maybe it's the 8-month crazies setting in, but I look at her little basinet sometimes, and it feels entirely baffling that she isn't here blinking and crying and waving her arms and toes. --Of course, she's been doing all of that quite relentlessly inside my belly. 

I think she's been growing like mad lately, and I can tell when she's awake and running, and when she's sleeping.  In the middle of the night I wake up and lie there for a bit trying to decide if getting up and going to the bathroom is worth waking up the baby.  I know that sounds funny, but this far along you start to really notice baby sleep patterns, and what you do, eat, drink etc.. completely affects her movements.  I get up and go, and then I try to slide back into bed, but it never works; She's awake and moving.  

It must be getting crowded for her in there.  It must be getting claustrophobic.  It must be a little like riding in a teensy vintage Saab down the freeway--  it feels like she gets the jumpy leg, and is stuck in a bucket seat.  So she starts pushing all which ways, and the other organs in my body get all moved around, and everything is dancing and tromping about, like they're singing Let's All Go to the Lobby and Buy Ourselves a Snack, the way the popcorn and sodas do at the beginning of a movie.  

And at this point I'm wide awake, just trying to settle everything down so that I can go back to sleep, but then I remember that I need to buy juice and lightbulbs at the store the next day, and I'm wide awake trying to breathe through my lungs which feel crowded and narrowed from having too much baby rump pushing against them.  

Oh my goodness I'm ready.  That's the hard thing about the last month, it feels so long, and you feel a little like neither you nor the baby can hardly stand it any longer.  Everyone always says that the womb is the best, warmest, most comfortable place for a baby-- but I don't feel like that's entirely true.  It will be wonderful, so very very wonderful, to have her in my arms instead of in my belly, and I swear she feels that way too.   

worries, woes, and carrots

On Monday Violet was helping me make carrot muffins.  When you are five, you want to help with everything, and finally you are big enough where "helping" actually is pretty helpful.  She pulls up the step-stool, and digs in the drawer to find whatever measuring cup it is I need.  She is eager to carry eggs carefully out of the fridge, and find the right mixing spoon, and can read all the names on the spice jars; here's cinnamon, mama!  I found it!  She can look at the recipe and tell me if it's baking soda or baking powder that I need, and she is always up for stirring and tasting everything until it's just right.

Anyway, while we were creating these muffins on Monday, I had her peel the carrots for the very first time ever.  There is something almost tearfully beautiful about teaching your child something as simple as peeling a carrot.  You position her little hands just right, and hold them in yours, and help her through the motion.  And then, pretty soon, she is doing it on her own.  She is laughing and cheering and feeling incredibly important and proud because she has yet again mastered a tiny sliver of what life is about.  

It was one of those moments that I swear I will remember always--  even just the colors of it-- her pink hands, the red peeler, the orange carrot-- the memory of it all will save me when I'm sitting in the dentist  chair having my teeth drilled (I keep a special stash of memories locked in my brain for immediate escape during dental work).  

I have to say, though… and this is what I have been trying to get to for half a page now… is that Monday's beautiful moment has kind of messed me up these past two days.  Suddenly I feel like I'm wading through this horrible bog of guilt.  I know it's an emotional pregnancy thing--  but I just can't help but worry how my relationship with Violet-- that has been so close and intense for five years-- is going to change a little with this new baby.  

Don't get me wrong: I can't wait for the baby to be here, and I am so excited to have Violet grow as a sister, and for me to grow as a mother…. but at the same time, I am trying to savor these simple moments where it's just us, as it has been for five years.  

I know that the baby will come, and she will be, well, my baby.  She will be one of us, and our hearts will explode with love for her… I can't wait to smell her tiny hands like fresh spring grass.  But right now, in this moment, I am having a hard time not feeling like I am betraying Violet.  Is that weird and horrible?  Maybe.  I sort of feel like it's not ok to talk about-- but I'd be curious to know how other mommies have felt going into the birth of their second child.  

In any case, I know I'm going to be busy when the baby arrives, so I've been trying to do some special things just with Violet lately--  like go to the zoo, cook with her in the kitchen, teach her card games like Crazy 8's and Old Maid.  Today we went to one of our favorite parks, and then took a long walk in the rain and talked about how the pink trees, starting to bloom, always bloom around her birthday.  

My little love.  When did you get so big?  I'll help you be a big sister, if you help me be a mama of two.  It's not going to be easy, but maybe if we stick together we'll be ok.       

Moving and moved.

Goodbye Woodlawn House

We were driving around today, and Violet said "you know, sometimes when we're over here [in Fremont] I forget about our new house and think we're going to our old house."  I asked her if she misses our old house, and she said "a little bit… but mostly I just really love our new house".  
I think that's how I feel too.
I haven't written in a while, so I'll fill you in:  We managed to move out of our apartment at the end of January with the help of many cousins and uncles and aunties, and have been in our new house now for about a month.  Mostly, it has been quite wonderful.   The first week or so was really rough.  We realized our heater doesn't do the job, I got horribly sick, and because it is an older house we immediately had about 50 million things that we wanted to fix.  Leaking refrigerator, toilets, faucets.  The peeling bathtub needed immediate attention so that it could be ok for a kid to sit in, and we very quickly entered the world of blinds and curtains in attempt to insulate.
We've had a swinging door of heater men coming through, giving quotes on various systems.  And, slowly unpacking a little more every day.
It's been a lot.
And figuring out how to route my paths to preschool, the art studio, the gym, grocery stores….

But with all of that said, we are falling in love with our new home.  It's amazing to have so much space, and to paint walls blue and green and pink and whatever.  Our street is so quiet, and in the morning the Eastern sun comes through our bedroom window.  Our neighbors are incredible, they bring us zucchini bread and strawberry pie.  There are tons of kids, and when it snowed they all got out their big wheels and sleds.  Also, I have this tiny space in the basement that is just for me and my art, which is a dream come true.  I sit and paint and look out over the backyard and dream of all the camellias and tulips I'll grow someday.  Neighborhood cats walk by and stare at me, surprised--  as if they have never seen anyone sit there ever.  This week the birds came out and started to hop around in the grass.    
We have a garage for our car, which we call "car house", and there is another little kitchen in the basement too, which someday might turn into my larger dream studio space (if we ever manage to clear out all the boxes).
Slowly, slowly, bird by bird, we are learning how to live in a space that is all our own.
And we are discovering new coffee shops nearby, and new beaches and parks.
Settling in is definitely a process that takes time (maybe months?).  There are only so many hours in a day, and right now it feels as though most of those hours for me are taken up with growing this baby-- who is at 33 weeks--  which  translates to dealing with back and tailbone pain, eating massive amounts of anything I can find, and falling asleep whenever I sit down for more than five minutes.
On that note-- I have a million photos I want to share of the new house, but they will have to come another day because now it is time for a bath (in our newly refinished tub), and goodnight.

Bird by Bird

The inside of my head feels like a chipmunk's den-- a mess of cotton fluff, dried up clovers, and little bits of paper everywhere with scribbled reminders of appointments and last week's grocery list.  There is the list of magazines and credit cards, the zoo and various insurance companies that need a change of address submitted--  all floating around and bumping into ideas for baby names, and questions to ask my midwife.

There are the things we need to do to the house before we move in next weekend.  So many things every day-- Paint colors, a new couch, a dripping faucet, the bathtub guy to resurface and repair and clean the grout.  Tyler working around the clock in between teaching his classes;  removing the weird temporary wall in the living room, cutting more molding, fixing a floorboard, staining the kitchen cabinets.   And the fire alarms won't stop chirping.

There is a dead worm that has been in the downstairs entryway since the first day we saw the place, and still I have yet to dispose of it (Violet is now calling that room the worm room.  

And then our apartment-- a donkey kong of boxes.  Boxes yet to be packed.  Boxes already packed.  Boxes filled with stuff for the new house, and boxes filled with stuff to donate.  And my cats keep packing themselves.  I keep finding stuff; there are literally millions of bobby pins everywhere.    

Of course normal life also doesn't really stop:  There is Violet's schedule, soccer, ballet, school.  She grew an inch and needs all new pants.  Also, it's wedding season, and shoe orders are rolling in-- hooray!  But where did I put my jar of Q-tips and masking tape?  

Then there is the pregnancy which refuses to be taken lightly these days.  My iron levels dropped which made me feel as though I were swimming through pea soup for a few weeks.  I started getting pretty strong and frequent Braxton Hicks contractions-- which are not fun and have made me take a step back from my weekly exercise routine (which makes me feel even more like I'm sinking into pea soup).  

BUT, really, life is great and exciting.  Overwhelming at this moment in time, but good and moving quickly forward.  

It's easy to feel swallowed up by it all.  Last week I locked myself and Violet out of the house.  She missed ballet class, and stood shivering in her leotard, dress, and tights in the driveway until our friendly neighbors took us in-- and I felt like a horrible mom-- trying to remember a million different things at once; forgetting the only thing I needed to remember in that moment (my keys); 

Forgetting to take things bird by bird.  

Bird by Bird.  It's the title of Anne Lamott's writing guide and a saying of hers-- which has gotten me through more than just writer's block.  Here's what she says: 

“Thirty years ago my older brother, who was ten years old at the time, was trying to get a report written on birds that he'd had three months to write, which was due the next day. We were out at our family cabin in Bolinas, and he was at the kitchen table close to tears, surrounded by binder paper and pencils and unopened books about birds, immobilized by the hugeness of the task ahead. Then my father sat down beside him put his arm around my brother's shoulder, and said, "Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird.”

I say it as I fall asleep at night-- Just take it Bird by Bird.  It's the only way to get through these massive days.  Only 12 more weeks and my arms will be filled… and that makes every other task seem like a cake walk.

   

25 Weeks, and Christmas

25 weeks into this pregnancy, and I feel like I'm coming out of the honeymoon phase.  But more on that later…

Christmas was a fabulous three week long holiday where we ate turkey and toffee at every meal. My mom was here for a bit, which was such a treat, and we splurged on a beautiful Swanson's nursery tree, and watched our apartment transform into a Christmas wonderland.  Having a 4-year-old brings this crazy-joyful intensity into the holidays.  Frankly, we don't buy much for her during the year, and so having the excuse to give her new books, new games, new puzzles, legos, some little figurines, and a chocolate Santa bear…. it's just really fun.   Then, the days that follow are wonderful too.  She gets to work playing and setting up everything, completely focused, like she's writing a legal brief, or something of great importance.  New princesses and animals have to be incorporated into the ecosystem of her dollhouse.  Picnics have to be made, and we have to play her new card games a million times.  She disappears in her room or under the table with a new book, and pops out every twenty minutes to ask for help with word she's stuck on.  

Toys may just be toys… but they can also be so much more.  

And they have given me the luxury of time to myself over the past couple of weeks.  --Time to sit on the couch and sketch, or maybe sleep a little, or just breathe while the baby kicks.  

When I was pregnant with Violet, I read that the third trimester is the "growing phase".  --Where the baby, pretty much all formed by then,  just starts to grow and grow and grow, and get big and ready for the world.  I think I cried at that point, because, then, I couldn't possibly imagine getting any larger than I already was.  I wasn't big at all.  But being first-time-pregnant, you feel huge at every stage.  

This time, I haven't really felt so big…yet.  Just suddenly completely and totally uncomfortable.  

Why is it that there is so much ligament pain the second time around?  Shouldn't my belly remember this from the first time?  

I'm trying to keep smiling, but 6-months is definitely the trail marker (at least for me) where suddenly there is this small voice in my head-- pretty much constantly-- like an angel/devil on my shoulder-- that dryly repeats profanities throughout every circumstance during the day.  Example: The clerk at the bank wants to chat about the weather, and all my little voice is saying is "f-you and your f-ing weather".  I know, it's horrible.    

I can't wait for this baby to be here.  I can't wait to hold her in my arms, and be up at 2am just smelling her head in the dark against my shoulder.  I can't wait to look into her marble eyes and see the whole world and the heavens and the future staring back.  And, in the midst of that, I can't wait to slowly have my body back.  

Ok third trimester, do you thing.   We've done this before, we can do it again.  

More photos from the holidays….. 

       

21 weeks: Baby Girl Land

We've been busy.  Tyler and Violet have gone through various illnesses throughout the past few weeks, and we're bidding on houses, and trying to figure out how to make Christmas Christmasy without going home to California to be with our extended families this year.

I'm keeping my head above water, still exercising a couple times a week doing Zumba--which always sounds like a horrid idea when I'm sitting at home on the couch feeling lazy and pregnant, but always makes me feel like a million bucks when I'm actually out there moving around.  Energy is pretty good, spirits are high, time is moving forward, and we're somewhere around 21-22 weeks-- a little more than 5 months into this thing.  

Mid-pregnancy is a super exciting and slightly stressful time because it's when you get to go in for the huge show-stopper ultrasound.  

I think Tyler and I were both a ball of nerves going into the appointment.  There have been all of these little wormy thoughts and fears in our minds that this pregnancy might not actually be happening as it should--  still in disbelief that everything might being going as planned.  It's really hard having gone through a miscarriage before to not constantly have this little thought in the back of your head that something might be wrong.  

But, thankfully, we watched the silver-toned screen flicker for about an hour and saw this amazingly active and alive and seemingly perfect little person show off--  feet, hands, nose, head, kidneys, heart, and a spine like a fish with tiny little bones, all in row, curving down to a little round bum-- all moving in the dark.     

It's incredibly amazing.  Shockingly amazing.  Every little thing right where it should be; punchy little hands wave about and explore the face and find the nose and mouth.  There are fingers and toes.  There are eyes.  Bones and joints.  

We're on our way.  

And she is she.  A girl.  A second little girl for us.  

I feel like I'm the luckiest person in the whole world because I get to have not one but two girls to raise and watch grow up. 

I never had any sisters, although four brothers were quite fun.  I am excited for Violet, and for this little baby girl--  that they will have each other as sisters.  They can argue and sneak around and call each other when they need an opinion about something.  Is that what sisters do?  I wouldn't know.  I'm excited to find out.