Juliet Martinez

Sat, Jan 31 2004

Hot times in the city

Joel and I busted out this evening. I've been on bed rest and in bed with the baby for so long I was about to lose my mind, so we finally got totally crazy, bundled up the baby and got out for a little bit. For our exciting night on the town, we filled up on gas and stopped at the Dominick's to get me some pads and a bunch of single-serving yogurts that were on sale. Pretty far out, I know.

It was fun, though, to see how pretty Paula is in a different setting, even in fluorescent lighting. Yep. I'm a fool for her.

by Juliet Email me

Thu, Jan 29 2004

Baby baby baby

I'm almost at the end of two weeks at home with the baby. Tomorrow I'll go to the midwife for my two-week post-partum checkup, which will mean I'll leave the house for the second time since bringing Paula home. I haven't washed my face, or most of the rest of me, in a number of days; my hair - already atrocious before the birth - is going for a combination of mop head and Monday-morning college freshman. I've spent most of the last two weeks lying in bed, adoring my beautiful daughter, reading Annie's old New Yorkers or the Artemis Fowl books while Paula sleeps or nurses, or just sleeping curled up alongside her. It's been pretty heavenly, but I'm beginning to peek out of my bedroom door and wonder what life is going to be like now that I'm a mom.

The amount of adult interaction available to me has been pretty limited since Monday because Joel has had to work every night this week. Especially after he took seven days off before and after the baby was born, we can use the money that comes with the extra work. But I've had my hands full just trying to figure out how to manage the little things that need to be done while taking care of my teeny baby.

Last night I called my parents in a moment of high emotion because my desire to occasionally do something around the house, like, say feed myself, kept running up against my aversion to leaving my daughter alone for more than 45 seconds. I cried; my mother recommended I get more creative with the baby carriers I have. My sister-in-law Adele gave me a Maya Wrap sling, and Nilufar gave me an Over-the-Shoulder Baby Holder. So I am not without baby-wearing options, though until last night I had only tried the Maya Wrap, and only a few times.

"Baby wearing," while conjuring up images of babies as stoles and hand-warmers, does address my problem, and is much cheaper than paying someone to do for me those things that would otherwise require me to spend 46-120 seconds away from little Paula. But it also requires some finessing, and so far my baby girl and I have not exactly mastered getting her in and comfortable in a sling before she has to eat or get a diaper change.

Since she does okay in the Maya Wrap when she's sleeping, today I've used it to carry Paula with me while microwaving some cold chicken or filling up my water bottle. She makes a little rumbling noise like a motor-boat on a really low idle if she's mildly disturbed while sleeping, so this sound has issued out of her throat for most of today. We just put-put around the house between her feedings, trying to see to mine.
by Juliet Email me

Sun, Jan 25 2004

The long version

To begin at the beginning... As I wrote in an earlier post, we saw CJ and proceeded to the hospital and induction of labor on Wednesday the 14th. My room was a good-sized, private labor and delivery room with an extra fold-out bed, TV (of course) and monitoring setup. By Thursday morning I was having rhythmic contractions, but when they put me on a pitocin drip (that's a hormone to get labor going), my contractions petered out and by Thursday night, in spite of very high doses of same, I was most definitely not in labor. My sister had spent the day with us at the hospital, but went home that night to get some sleep.

Thursday night I got to rest drug- and monitor-free, except for the penicillin that a nurse came in to add to my IV every four hours. Sleeping for four hours in a row never felt so good. It's a good thing I did sleep, too, because I ended up needing my strength on Friday.

In the morning the new midwife, Anne - the one I'd never met and was supposedly getting induced Wednesday to avoid having her attend my labor - came on call and came in for a visit. There was nothing to be done about it at that point, but as soon as we met Anne we liked her, though I can't chalk it up to more than a good vibe at this point. In keeping with my wishes to use natural methods to induce labor when possible, she suggested an enema, and I accepted. I'm sure you can imagine that Joel and I went to town on that one. I won't revisit the jokes, but let me just say that there is a time to laugh and a time to be serious, and we got them a little mixed up. If you don't know what I mean, consider yourself lucky.

I was back on pitocin and seemed to be having a few wimpy contractions, so around 3:30, with everyone's agreement, Anne broke my water. Let me say that pelvic exams in pregnancy and having one's water broken are both very painful. I had no idea. Anyway, lying there feeling my precious amniotic fluid pour out over my thighs was one of the worst parts of labor for me. It wasn't because of the pain, but because for the last three months or so, my amniotic fluid has been on my mind every day. I rearranged as much of my life as possible in the hopes of conserving or increasing my fluid, and there I was letting it pour out of me. I sobbed. I can't even write about it without tearing up. Anne said simply that the time for the amniotic fluid had passed, and I could let it go now.

After that the contractions picked up immediately, and I had to move forward mentally, too. On Anne's advice I focused my attention inward, doing my yoga breathing and urging my body to make each contraction as strong as possible, and sleeping in between them. I passed five or six hours like this, I think, and by the time Anne checked my cervix again I had progressed from three to four centimeters, my cervix had thinned out completely, and the baby's head had moved down into my pelvis. All good things, and largely the reason I could no longer sleep between contractions - they hurt too much.

I knew it was only going to get more painful, and the more the better as far as labor was concerned. I called Joel to the bed side (I was alternating between lying on my right and left sides - standing up was too painful and the birth ball wasn't doing it for me) and began spending my contractions looking into his eyes and repeating a mantra of, "It's only for a minute, less than a minute now." I recalled my old rowing coach, who loved to tell us, "You can do anything for a minute!" as she put us through minute-long sprints that left us in respiratory distress. Turns out it's true.

After a while, as the contractions topped each other in pain intensity, my mild queasiness turned to full-on nausea, and I gave in and hurled. I knew that this is generally considered a good thing in labor, though I couldn't remember why. The nurse said, "This is great! Maybe you're seven or eight centimeters now!" That was encouraging, but I tried to avoid thinking about the remaining centimeters, or anything other than making it through the next contraction. Because I refused to think ahead at all, I have no idea how long it took for me to get from the puking phase to pushing, but I can tell you the pain got very out of control at that point. I began calling out "Help help help!" during contractions, begging Baha'u'llah to help me get through it, saying any snippets of applicable Baha'i prayers I could think of, and just generally hanging on for dear life.

I knew that I had to keep my voice low and my face relaxed to keep my cervix from tightening up, but other than that I let loose. I still tried to focus on going with the pain, not fighting it, but it was definitely worse than I could have imagined. I got onto my knees, supporting my upper body on the head of the hospital bed, which felt right for some reason. I started feeling like I had to push, and Anne said to go ahead if it didn't hurt to.

Around that time I asked her what she thought of giving me a narcotic for the pain. She said it would relax me between contractions, but not dull the pain of the contractions. She also said a narcotic would take away some of my power, and I needed that for pushing. Maybe she just meant my physical power to push, but I felt she was talking about my inner strength and focus. I knew I didn't want to give that up, that no amount of pain would make that worth it, so I forgot about that and pushed ahead. Literally.

Also around this time Anne told me she wanted to insert a scalp monitor into the skin of the baby's head to get better heart rate readings. I said okay. By that point I trusted that she wanted it there for more than convenience, but it didn't occur to me that there might be a problem. Well, there was a problem, but I remained unaware of it until after Paula was born. Her heart rate was getting dangerously low during contractions.

As I got to the pushing phase, it felt both great to push and still painful. But I didn't just have to wait through the pain, I could work with it and push. Anne had me lie on my side to push for a couple of contractions, then told me to lie on my back, pull my knees back with my hands and push as hard as I could through each contraction without stopping. I went for it. My sister, Joel, the nurse and Anne pushed back on my feet while I pushed like my life depended on it. I had no idea that my little girl was taking too long to come through the birth canal and that her heart rate continued to drop during contractions.

The nurse started giving me oxygen between contractions, and told me to breath as deeply as I could. I still had no idea anything was wrong - I just followed orders. I was so winded between contractions that my breathing was short and fast, but I forced myself to breath deep. As the baby came close to crowning, Anne had me pant through a contraction to "give the baby a rest," something we repeated again after pushing through another one. You would think it would be easy for me to "rest," too, that way, but at that physiological point in labor, my whole body, every fiber of my being was screaming to push. Not pushing took more self control than I have ever required for anything.

As the baby got close to crowning, I knew I was approaching the most acutely painful part of labor, but that once it was over, labor was over. I don't remember anything except pushing as hard as I could for the full length of the contractions, and repeating to myself that the finish line was in sight. My old rowing coach's voice rang in my ears again: "Sprint! Sprint! You're almost done!" I pushed with everything I had and Paula's head and body emerged with that final push. The umbilical cord was wrapped twice around her neck. In spite of the dips in her heart rate, however, she had not voided her bowels in distress. It was another sign of this baby's toughness.

Anne unwrapped the cord while I tore off my hospital gown. I wouldn't know until later how close I had come to an emergency cesarean section. All I knew was that the baby was out and I could finally hold it in my arms. It was 3:27 a.m.

Anne placed her on my chest and she began to breath immediately. The nurse covered her with blankets and for a couple of minutes nobody thought to find out whether we had a boy or a girl. When we did check, Joel and I were surprised, but prepared. Joel turned to my sister and said, "Paula, meet Paula." Paula, my sister, cried while her namesake cooed and nuzzled my chest. Her eyes opened and Anne helped me place her on my breast, where she immediately began to nurse. I was tired and should have been in pain, but I felt a rush of happiness and amazement as I held my little baby girl. Over the previous 12 hours I had felt worse pain than I had ever imagined, dilated previously closed bodily openings to the size of a large orange, pushed an infant out of my abdomen, and torn some of the most sensitive tissue on my body. But my baby was healthy and safe in my arms. I felt wonderful.

My mom says that this feeling is caused by the body's natural pleasure hormones that are released as the baby is born, that it's one of the perks of a non-medicated birth. Okay, that's fine. But in my heart I know that no physical pain could have occluded my joy and relief on seeing this precious child emerge strong, pink and hungry after beating the odds in and on her way out of the womb. This little girl, asleep on my chest as I write, is a fighter and a survivor. She is worth more to me than anything I have ever imagined, and over the past eight days Joel and I have fallen in love with her again and again. This is what life is all about.

by Juliet Email me

Tue, Jan 20 2004

The short version

Name: Paula Celeste

Born: 1/17/04

Weight: 5 lb. 11 oz

Length: 18 in

Description: More beautiful than anything that has ever lived or breathed.

Paula, Joel and I got home yesterday and are both doing fine. More later.

by Juliet Email me

Wed, Jan 14 2004

10:42 p.m. and on

It's 10:42 and Priscilla just went home for the night. She came in around 9:30 and told me I tested positive for Strep B, a bacterial strain present in about 30% of the population. It can cause some pretty serious infections in newborns - especially premature ones - so they have to treat me with penicillin until I give birth. I decided to get tested for it in the hopes that I would test negative and be able to skip the IV-administered penicillin, but no luck. I don't have any problem with needles, but dislike having an IV since I had a bad experience with one in a Mexican hospital. It was nothing serious, just seriously uncomfortable and memorable. Anyway, I cried a little, and Priscilla was very understanding but explained that the penicillin is really called for since my baby is just 36 weeks. She put in the IV and then the cervidil, which should help soften my cervix and possibly start me into labor.

If you're wondering, we did go to CJ for the acupuncture induction, but nothing's happened yet. He told me from the first that he couldn't guarantee it would work, particularly since I'm so far from my due date. But it was worth it to try. Maybe it will still help the cervidil do its thing. CJ also took my pulses and said he thinks I'm having a girl. He said that method of guessing the sex is usually about 70% accurate.

Since Priscilla has gone, I'm just hanging out here by myself for now. Joel left around 9:00 to go home for his guitar, to rent some DVDs and pick up a pizza. I was pretty hungry when he left, but of course I'm not anymore. If they start me on pitocin tomorrow I won't be given anything to eat other than what I can filch from Joel's meals. So I thought I would eat while I could, but now my displeasure about the IV is giving me heartburn and I just want Joel to come back and play guitar for me so I can fall asleep.

The one nice thing right now is being able to hear the baby's heartbeat on the monitor. It continues to skip along, not a care in the world. I just wish the monitor thingy would keep working when I make a slight change in position. It feels like it's going to be a long night.

5:54 a.m.

The nurse unintentionally woke me up around four when she came in to give me my second dose of penicillin. She had earlier fitted me with a hep-lock so I don't have to be attached to the IV all the time. She also tried to place the monitor so it would read the baby's heartbeat, which has been difficult to keep track of.

The monitor seems to be able to successfully track the baby's heartbeat only about 10 percent of the time. The rest of the time it just sits there, strapped to my belly with no apparent usefulness. She adjusts it, then the baby moves, or I move, and the signal is lost. The nurse says whenever it does track the heartbeat everything seems fine, so she's not worried enough to come in and adjust it every time it loses the signal. I am tending to take advantage of this. Lying in bed a little bit ago feeling crampy, uncomfortable and having to pee, I finally just took off the monitor paddles and after relieving myself, paced back and forth as much as the IV would allow. I feel like this works much better in terms of keeping me comfortable and keeping the contractions coming. It was nice, and when the nurse came in to adjust the paddles, she caught me in the bathroom, not pacing and shamelessly unattached to the all-important piece of technology.

Yes, I am having contractions. I might even be in labor - I'm not totally sure, but the recurring discomfort I feel in my back and hips tells me something is going on.

Joel is snoring softly on the fold-out bed. He returned from his earlier outing with the guitar, a pizza and a number of DVDs. I felt better as soon as he got here, and spent a lovely couple of hours watching The View From Above while pacing the three feet or so allowed by the monitor cables. It was wild to notice how the contractions were stronger, more frequent and also less painful when I was pacing, as opposed to less frequent and more painful when I rested on the birthing ball or in bed. Very interesting. Of course the monitor didn't successfully monitor almost anything while I paced, but I felt comfortable and entertained, and had lots of contractions, I think. We went to sleep around two, I think. Right now I'm in my typical early-morning insomnia mode: if I can't sleep, Joel might as well. Who knows when either of us will get another chance to.
by Juliet Email me

The future is now

I just got a call from my midwife Priscilla telling me that she and Hillary want to induce me today! Holy cow. I guess it's a good thing I slept in this morning and washed a bunch of baby clothes today. Joel and I will go for the acupuncture induction with my Chinese doctor, then straight to the hospital. I'm taking my laptop and will post updates as possible. Wish me luck!

by Juliet Email me

Tue, Jan 13 2004

A scheduled induction into the Giving Birth Hall of Fame

It didn't happen today, but it will happen soon.

Joel and I went to my ultrasound appointment and for the first time in this pregnancy, my amniotic fluid score went below five, just by a hair. It was 4.9 - induction range. The midwife was called and we were told to just keep my appointment at 2 :00. We ate some lunch, did some shopping (books!), and headed to the appointment.

Basically the consensus between my midwives and the obstetricians they consult with was that it's better to induce me at 36 weeks than 35 weeks because the baby's sucking reflex is better developed then. So initially they decided to induce me on Thursday evening, when I turn 36 weeks.

But after Joel and I got home, we got a call from my favorite midwife, Hillary, telling us that if I get induced Thursday evening I will likely end up being attended on Friday by a new midwife who I have never met. I was told this wouldn't happen, and that's why I never met with her before. In the end we decided to move the induction to Sunday evening, when Hillary will be on call, meaning I'll likely give birth on Monday when Priscilla is on call. Priscilla is very nice - she's the one who recommended Mike's Hard Lemonade to stop my contractions at 22 weeks, and chocolate as a snack during birth. I'm sure she'll be great, but Hillary has a down-to-earth manner that I love.

So this means Joel and I will have a whole weekend to do all the stuff we need to do to get ready for the baby to come home. I'm not really talking about setting up the nursery, washing baby clothes and blankets and buying a glider, though we'll probably do that stuff. I'm talking about going to a movie, out to dinner, and lying lazily in bed with Joel until hunger and the urge to pee take over. A last taste of the joys of being childless, before the joys of parenthood kick in.

And as for my high-anxiety posting of yesterday, today I'm feeling much more confident about bringing home a baby next week. And even labor and birth aren't scaring me quite so much. I know it's like nothing I've ever experienced, but a bad attitude never made a hard job easier.
by Juliet Email me

Mon, Jan 12 2004

Anxiety

I feel so scared about tomorrow's ultrasound to check my amniotic fluid. I don't know what's going to happen, I feel like I'm going to have to be induced, and I have finally realized how completely un-ready I feel for birth and a new baby. In many respects I'm well-prepared: I have years of experience with babies, I've taken childbirth classes and written a birth plan. We even had the shower yesterday, so now I have a car seat and warm outfit in which to bring the baby home. But I don't feel ready.

The baby continues to squirm around in my belly, or hiccup as it's doing right now. I know it's healthy because it moves all the time, does great on non-stress tests, and is anatomically normal as far as anyone can tell from ultrasound. I'm more worried about me right now, though. Can my not-ready-feeling mind give my body permission to go into labor if I need to tomorrow? The labor and delivery nurse I spoke with at the hospital said sometimes it takes as long as three days to get labor going. I'm afraid that will be me.

I've heard of other women who are induced and have very short labors - I just don't expect to be one of them. My mother says "the optimist is often disappointed, the pessimist pleasantly surprised." (It's ironic that she should say that, though, because optimism has been her hallmark as long as I've known her.) But I know that it often happens that one's mindset helps guide the course of events, or in the mathematically mystifying words of Yogi Berra, "80 percent of it is half mental." I understand that labor is a lot like that. In everything I've read about it, the mindset of the mother is considered very important for the progress of labor.

Still, maybe I will be pleasantly surprised. Because I've gone through life harshly blaming myself for any little wrinkle in my health or fortunes - because I unknowingly did Something Wrong, whether physical, mental or spiritual - maybe this labor will be my windfall apple. Maybe after all the calumny I've heaped on my own head, I'll go into this birth totally freaked out and YET everything will turn out great. I'll have an easy labor and speedy delivery in spite of my mindset. Who knows? It could happen.

by Juliet Email me

Sat, Jan 10 2004

Dum de dum dum dum

Okay, yesterday everything felt like it was moving so fast and today the only things moving fast are the baby's little feet against the top of my belly. Being on bed rest is finally taking its toll in that I've been reclining enough that the baby is facing forward - not how I want things to be if I'm in labor (it's better for the baby to face my back, less painful). So I'd better get on my hands and knees (to try to turn the baby) before Tuesday. I don't know that I'll be induced then, but the possibility feels so real that I don't want to take chances. I'll keep in touch.

by Juliet Email me

Fri, Jan 09 2004

Ras Dashen and the acceleration of life

Joel has promised me dinner at Ras Dashen tonight. That's my favorite Ethiopian restaurant, very possibly my favorite restaurant, if I had to let all those other restaurants down. Ras Dashen doesn't only excel on the basis of its extraordinary food, food that almost brought me to tears of joy last summer when I hated all food except this amazing lamb dish and assorted delicious sides that I ate there. But as I was saying, Ras Dashen is not only distinguished by its food, but by its obscene distance from my house. It's all the way on the North Side, on Broadway, north of Hollywood, might as well be in another galaxy for what a hassle it is to get up there from here. So it is not only beautiful, it is (nearly) unattainable - the perfect combination for an impossible love.

Okay, that's just a little hyperbolic, but I really do love the place. And with the way things are going, I might have a few more things, um, occupying my time very soon. It might be a while before we can introduce the baby to injera-flavored breast milk.

Let me back up. Monday my amniotic fluid was at 5.38 cm, just a hair above 5 cm and the cutoff for inducing me. My midwives put me on bedrest, I had a non-stress test Tuesday (the baby performed fabulously), and I'm to monitor the baby's rigorous cardio kick-boxing schedule. The baby seems to be very healthy, but whenever that fluid index goes below 5, I'll have to be induced. Well, I can almost feel my belly getting smaller. The baby's back presses against my abdomen and every single movement seems to hit me. There's not a lot of cushion in my uterus, and the way it looks now I could be induced after my next ultrasound on Tuesday.

How wild is this? My baby shower is Sunday, and two to three days later I could be holding my baby in my arms, trying to figure out breast feeding. (Good thing we didn't plan the shower for later...) Next week at this time I could have joined the ranks of sleep-deprived new moms, never again to enjoy a lazy Sunday morning of sleeping in and goofing off with Joel. It's happening so fast.

I know a few days ago I said I was ready for this baby to be born, but of course now that it seems imminent I'm wondering if I could ever really feel ready for something so big. Last night Joel was playing Beatles songs on the guitar and singing to my belly. I looked at him and saw the young punk rocker I first fell in love with almost 10 years ago. We both still feel like kids, and here we are, about to have a baby.
by Juliet Email me

Tue, Jan 06 2004

Monster foot

In the excitement of bed rest, I forgot to mention a truly bizarre development. I noticed yesterday that my left foot has grown to a full 1/2 inch longer than my right foot. That's right, put them side by side and you can see that I'm not only going to have to buy two different sizes now to fit my feet, but one of those feet is probably going to need the "wide widths" section. I had heard about people's feet growing during pregnancy, but this is completely unexpected and freakish.

I know that the hormone relaxin causes all the tendons connecting one's bones to relax and stretch during pregnancy, and since the feet bear so much weight they respond by stretching out, permanently. I suspect that in my case this unequal expansion has to do with my bad posture and habit of leaning slightly more on my left foot than my right. Yesterday after making my discovery I tried reversing this and found that my right foot is just not up to the challenge. It whines when I put most of my weight on it, and now it can complain that I should pick on someone closer to my own size. That would be my monstrous left foot.

The fact that both my feet are swollen up like little footballs (okay, one little and one medium football) doesn't help the matter. It's like one of them now poses a physical threat to the other, having the distinct advantage in size, bulk and length of toe. It reminds me of the part in my yoga video where the instructor says, "Make sure your hands are symmetrical." As if one of them might have sprouted an extra finger since I last went into downward dog. I think she means to make sure they are spaced evenly apart, but after yesterday I wonder if there's more to it than I originally thought.
by Juliet Email me

Mon, Jan 05 2004

Going back to bed

Well, I'm officially back on bedrest. I had another fluid check today and came in just barely over 5 - 5.38, to be exact. My midwife Hillary said we'll do non-stress tests twice this week, check my fluid again next week and, if it's still on a downward slide, induce me as soon as I get to 36 weeks as long as the baby continues to move and look fine on the tests. I will turn 36 weeks on the 15th - that's 10 days from now.

It's freaky to contemplate what's happening right now. My body is doing something I don't quite understand, something apparently not good, but the baby seems fine as far as anyone can tell. What does all this mean for the birth? Will it become a giant cascade of medical interventions: IV drip, pitocin, immobilization, fetal monitor, food/water deprivation, fatigue, false positives, unnaturally frequent contractions, epidural, failure to progress, fever, cesarean section? Or will any of the various natural methods Hillary suggested actually work (castor oil, acupuncture, sex) and give me a more natural labor progression and birth? Or will it be somewhere in between? There's no way to know.

One thing is for sure: my beloved notions of what birth Is Supposed To Be Like are getting the beating of a lifetime. I hate to admit it, but that is probably one of the scariest things about this situation. My idea of how it's supposed to go is so etched in my mind that going with the proverbial flow feels like a threat to my sense of self, but what else can I do? I'm not going to ignore the counsel of my midwives and hope everything turns out okay.

I wonder about people who don't get ultrasounds at all, or any prenatal testing for that matter. I know someone who is just as far along as I am, and she hasn't had any prenatal testing of any kind (other than external measurements for blood pressure, etc., I assume). "All" I got was about ten ultrasounds, but did they really give me that much useful information? I have no way of knowing whether the things we did to try to get my fluid up before worked, or if my pregnancy followed its own trajectory independent of my actions. And what if I weren't getting ultrasound now? Would it mean certain death for the baby to be so low in fluid? What about if it got pressed against the umbilical cord - a risk of low amniotic fluid? How do you detect something like that if you don't get tested? And does knowing about it really change the situation or not?

I realize that the non-testing people are looking at pregnancy and birth as normal, healthy events, not crises waiting to happen. And medical establishment people see it in just the opposite way. I'm somewhere in the middle, though. I see birth as a natural and healthy event, something personal and normal in life, not a medical situation that needs to be controlled. And no matter what we might have found out through testing, Joel and I still would want and love our baby. But my actions come more from that lurking fear that says, "what if something's wrong? how would you know? what if there was something you could do to protect or save the baby, but you didn't because you didn't know? what if it were serious and it turned out to be your fault?"

I don't have an answer for those questions, which is probably part of the reason I'm expecting to give birth in about 10 days. If I could answer them, I have no idea where I would be now.
by Juliet Email me

Sun, Jan 04 2004

Happy Birthday, Claire

Today is the birthday of my awesome niece, Claire. I don't get to see her much because she lives in Denver, but whenever we get together we have a really good time. At the ripe old age of 12, she is following in her parents' footsteps and studying acting at a fine-arts school, but, ever the voice of dissent, I try to encourage her to develop her love of writing. Who says she can't do both? Anyway, she is smart, unpretentious and funny, not to mention a vegetarian, and I love her very much. Happy birthday, Claire! I hope you got all those e-cards I sent you.

by Juliet Email me

Is it labor now?

I'm so psyched to have reached 34 weeks that now I'm ready to go into labor any old time. The other morning I got up and felt some generalized pain in my abdomen - am I in labor? But then, I cautioned myself, it could just be gas. Frankly these days, anything could be and usually is gas. Well, it was just gas, but that did nothing to squelch my eagerness to go into labor and have this baby with a quickness.

Part of the deal with that is that I realize my fluid is low and I do not want to have labor induced on account of that low fluid. Going into labor spontaneously would scratch that off the list of possibilities, which I like. Joel and I have discussed me going to CJ to get induced via acupuncture if my fluid stays low in spite of the gallons of water (in the form of herbal tea) that I now drink every day. The word on the childbirth street is that an acupuncture induction gives one a much more natural labor progression than getting induced with pitocin. So if a couple of weeks pass and my amniotic fluid doesn't go up, I could end up making a little trip to the western suburbs of Chicago, where labor might await me.

But in the meantime, hope continues to spring eternal. Today after eating a big bowl of (leftover from yesterday) watercress soup from Seven Treasures in Chinatown, I was a little tired and then suddenly hurled every drop of soup and tea in my stomach. Quite unpleasant, especially considering that I made it through my first trimester without any of that. I felt pretty confident that the danger of becoming Vomitolla Khomeini had passed completely. Not so, apparently. Anyway, in the middle of that episode I couldn't help but wonder - hey! Maybe this means I'm in labor! Now that about eight hours have passed, I'm thinking probably not.

But the abdominal spasms did leave me rather sore in the belly, so I still have something to cling to in vain. Judging from how excited I feel, I probably won't have the baby until March.

And by the way, the birth plan is done, the bag is mostly packed, and the nursery is still an unholy mess. Just in case you were wondering.
by Juliet Email me

Fri, Jan 02 2004

Nesting

This morning I dreamt I was in labor, and awoke with a start, realizing that we have no birth plan, no bag packed, and the nursery is an unholy mess. So it's time to do laundry, pack a bag, write a birth plan and make sense of the nursery. I'm so lucky my friend Laura gave me a bunch of (incredibly cute) hand-me-down newborn clothes, and my sister-in-law gave us a soft blanket, so at least we'll have something to take the baby home in. I can just see sending my sister out to the store to buy an outfit right after the baby's born. Nilufar has the carseat she is giving us, so we really have to get that from her. Other than that we're totally ready!

I've got to get back to work.
by Juliet Email me

Thu, Jan 01 2004

Happy New Year!

My New Year's celebration was among the more low-key of my life, though even under normal circumstances I am not much of a partier. My chest cold was raging - I'm amazed my body can ache so much without even a low-grade fever - so Mom, Joel and I stayed in, watched Pirates of the Caribbean and drank some fizzy apple juice. We first toasted the new year around 10 because I didn't know if I could stay awake until midnight. Joel played the cheesy midi version of "Auld Lang Syne" on our piano (that is to say he told the piano to play the cheesy midi version that lives there permanently in its circuitry), and we all sang. I wept. I guess sick + pregnant + "Auld Lang Syne" = weepy Juliet. I kept saying, while the tears rained down, that I don't even know what "Auld Lang Syne" means. I have no idea what that song is @#$%$ talking about, and yet the tears continued. When I was still awake at midnight, I told Mom and Joel there was to be no more of that.

And in pregnancy news, I went in for a non-stress test on Tuesday and the baby seems to be doing just fine. This morning I feel again like my belly is smaller, but my awesome midwife said to just keep pushing fluids and monitoring the baby's movement. She said the odds of me going to term are not that high, which is fine with me - I'm so happy to have just gotten this far. The baby's lungs are developed now, so it's no big deal. I'd like to avoid being induced - and my midwife would like to avoid that, too - so we're just going to keep checking my fluid every week, keeping me super hydrated, and trying to keep the bun in the oven as long as possible. I really have to get to work on that nursery, though. The nesting instinct begins.

Happy New Year, everyone!
by Juliet Email me