Still gestating, and being on the receiving end of slimy, snotty kisses

I kind of feel like not blogging. I'm so close to my due date, and feeling my body get ready, and I would like to wait around in a cave until my baby comes out. But, then I would miss out on life, and all the joy it can offer. Like my daughter, who has had a cold since Sunday, who despite a leaking face and a loose cough, is still sweet and full of love for me. I've been following her around with towels and tissues, sometimes my own shirt. And I'm pretty crabby about it. Like each wipe of her face is costing me 5 bucks. It's so irritating. Please child, stop your mucus.

I'm also fighting a giant nesting urge. Jason, with his long to-do list, has by the grace of God, gotten around to fixing up our bedroom. I'm 37 + weeks, and we have no bed right now. Well, we have a bed, it's just sideways against the hall while our room is being mudded, sanded, drywalled, skim coated, painted, and I've learned that fixing up anything usually involves it being a lot worse before it gets better. So the three of us (or 4 I guess) are sleeping on our fantastic Ikea sofa bed (Thank you mom and dad) that I honestly think is slightly more comfortable than our bed mattress, however is very difficult to get out of to go pee 3 or 4 times a night. You can't have it all!

It's taking all I have to not grab a ladder and pull all our baby gear down from the rafters of the garage and start to lovingly wash it, set it all up. But I must refrain. There is no where to put it all right now. Hannah's bedroom floor is our closet for the week. It's a disaster in this house. Except for the kitchen and the bathroom. All of a sudden, since I can't really "nest" I have decided to become anal about the kitchen (so, so unlike me) and I bought some pretty kitchen towels and place mats that are wipe able and I'm just about as excited for them as I would be if Martha Stewart herself came and redecorated my house for me. And after I found those items at a discount linen store, I mosied on over to Ross. I find that store quite detestable and a huge mess, but I was on a roll. So I found a $7 shower curtain, and a $7 floor rug, and $3 curtain holders. I got the rod at the linen store for cheap too. I put it all together that day and even broke out our fancy bath accessories that were wedding presents, and I'm very impressed with myself. Jason really likes it too, and asked, "Why didn't you do that a long time ago?" That sent me into an eye rolling and sighing fit because I never decorated because of HIM. He was the one that told me not to decorate because he wanted to remodel the bathroom first, and why spend money on that kind of stuff if you're not sure what the finished product will be? He denied this and said, "Well, I didn't mean you couldn't do this." *insert a big Napoleon Dynamite sigh right here*

We met again with our doula last night, and I like her even more. She's so encouraging and knowledgeable, and I'm really excited to have her a part of our birth. She brought a birth ball to practice some moves on, and I would have slept on it last night if she didn't have to take it home. So comfortable to sit on, lay on, and hug like it's my only friend in the world.

Today, I'm going to enjoy the stellar warm weather. This morning I already planted some dahlias that I bought last week and the rest of our flat of star jasmine in the front yard. Jason thinks I am to become a great gardener and said he is going to buy me some gardening clogs so I would go out more. I'm not a green thumb, but it does kind of relax me. Not sure if the clogs would help or not. Maybe I'll have a complete garden in the front by the time the baby comes. I think I'll be content with a finished bedroom.

Happy Faces Forbidden

OK, so this is another shopping rant, sorry. I just got back from Costco and just had to share this terrible new policy of theirs. First of all, I love Costco. I love that they pay their workers decent money and how you know when you buy something there it is usually of good quality and if you are unhappy with anything, you can just bring it right back and they don't mess with you like some other places...ahem, Target. But today as Hannah and I waited in the line at the exit where they go through your receipt and make sure neither you, nor Costco has been ripped off, I asked if the worker could please make a happy face on the receipt for my daughter. They had always done this in the past, and it made the kid's day. And if a worker had forgotten (like it appeared they had on our last couple of visits) Hannah would be disappointed and I'd have to hear about it the whole ride home, and then try to explain that the worker was busy, or maybe he or she didn't know how to make a happy face, or maybe they drew her a stick, or a snake instead.

But after I asked the worker, hoping she would just quickly draw the little happy face on the receipt, she said she was not allowed to anymore. I didn't argue or protest, as there was a line behind me, but disappointingly said, "Oh." The nice young man that helped me get all my groceries into the truck (I can never lift the water bottles up there) was explaining that he had heard something before, and that another mother had complained because of the same thing (he he, glad I'm not the only Kathie Lee Gifford) and they said it had something to do with using up too much of the ink from the highlighters they use to confirm that the receipt is correct. Can you believe that? The amount of money that store makes, and they're getting cheap on the highlighter ink?

BRING BACK THE HAPPY FACES!!!

I'm going to send a letter.

A Doula!

Yesterday a doula named Cindy came over to our house for us to meet with her and see if we want to hire her for our birth. She is very recommended, and has attended over 60 births in the last several years. Jason and I both liked her right away, and she was super supportive about my VBAC and get this: Not only is she a highly trained, licensed labor assistant, she is a licensed MASSAGE THERAPIST. I joked that I might be calling her a few times "accidentally" for false labor just so I could get a good back rub. He he.

This is just one more thing that is helping me feel much more prepared and emotionally stable about my upcoming birth. I'm also excited that my midwife at Kaiser agreed to extend the amount of time I am given after my due date until they schedule a repeat cesarean. Kaiser doesn't induce VBACs due to the scar and increased risk of uterine rupture (be it so minuscule that it is, I actually agree with their policy since inductions and all their lovely drugs can hyper stimulate the uterus, thus agitating the scar) so that was another small victory for me. Their policy is to only give a week after the estimated due date, but I bargained as tactfully as I could to please have that time frame extended since two weeks is still considered normal. My midwife was amazingly cool about it and said she would let my doctor know my wishes and that I would just have to take some non stress tests. Fine with me! Much rather do that than hobble, defeated onto the operating table simply because I didn't fit into the hospital's arbitrary time frame. So, wow, sometimes you just have to ask!

So anyway, I'm feeling empowered and less like a victim. I must say this experience has been an invaluable exercise in research, assertiveness, and getting needs met without being whiny and rude. I've even forgiven my first OB. I think some women never do this and continue on with bitterness. But I understand why he did what he did and I don't think the way he practices obstetrics is intended to hurt women at all. He just has to practice with the least liability possible, and that often means birthing babies surgically. He also has to take on way too many patients to pay for his soaring malpractice insurance costs, which means he has to schedule births in order to have any sort of life. I understand now, and I forgive.

Orthodox Party Animals

I'm still pooped out from my very first Pascha. It was glorious, joyous, beautiful, and long. And in the middle of the night.

I loved the procession, singing and holding candles. Everyone looks so lovely in candle light. Sleepy little children resting their heads on their father's shoulders are especially delightful. Then excitement fills the air as the priest starts banging on the doors of the church. And I can't even remember what he was saying, I wish I did, but it was so exciting. And as the doors opened at midnight, there were the lights, and the triumphant singing and bells. The bells were back from their Lenten silence. Hearty shouts of "Christ is risen! Truly He is risen!" filled the church, and in different languages. The deacon and priest seemed unable to contain their joy as they shouted up and down the aisle. And I thought, THIS is how a celebration of Christ's resurrection should be. I've never experienced any thing like it.

We made it through the Liturgy, sleepy Hannah getting a bit crabby, but we managed, and I figured, who am I to think this could be a little shorter? My Lord has risen, and trampled down death by death, I can surely worship Him for a couple hours in the middle of the night.

And then the feast, OH the FEAST. There were meats of all types, pizza, pastas with all kinds of cheesy goodness, cakes and cookies, Guinness, Guinness, and more Guinness. Is Guinness the official beer of Orthodox Christians? My theory is that Guinness, being the thick, stew-like beer that it is pleases the palates of the Orthodox who's faith, like the beer, is thick and complex. Either way, our feast at 3am was enjoyable, full of laughs, and our little girl seemed to be having a great time too, being fed sweets and other treats, the hour didn't seem to matter.

At about 4:30 am, sleepiness hit me like brick wall. I elbowed Jason a few times, letting him know his ride home was going to turn into a pumpkin if we didn't leave soon. We finally got home at 5:30 in the morning. We slept and slept all day yesterday, making sure to not leave the house. I was really glad we hadn't made any plans for the day, as strange as it was yesterday to not go anywhere on Easter Sunday. Our neighbors were probably scratching their heads, as to why their most church going-est neighbors never left the house on such a day. Little do they know, we are learning from Orthodox Christians how to really party for the Feast of all Feasts.

Christ is Risen!

Vacation!

It was a fun long weekend, our last chance to get away before we'll be carting around a new baby and all his stuff. We visited Sea World (which Jason and I hadn't been since we were wee one's. That place is a fine establishment, however the Shamu show was completely nauseating - just show us the killer whales doing their tricks, we don't need a spiritual experience out of it), camped at Carlsbad State Beach with Jason's dad, and then the family ran the annual Carlsbad 5K (I watched). It was really relaxing to hang out at the campsite, and at the beach. The weather all weekend could not have been any better. It was perfect. But I think that is the last time I will ever go tent camping while 8 months pregnant. OUCH! Hannah was thrilled to sleep in a tent. "You mean we are REALLY sleeping in HERE? Really? Tonight? With you guys? With all my stuff close by? Wow." She was giddy. And I'm happy to say that with the long walk to the restrooms, Hannah only peed herself once, and I didn't have any accidents. We must have been a sight for the campers, the large pregnant woman with the freshly potty trained toddler making at least 20 trips a day to the facilities.

Jason, Papa Bill, and Hannah at the finish line.