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Very interesting. According to various news outlets,
Women can influence the gender of their child with what they eat before they conceive, according to new research that lends scientific support to age-old superstitions about pregnancy.
The study of 740 women showed that higher calorie intake led to a higher probability of a male birth.
The discovery shows higher calorie intake prior to conception can significantly increase the chances of having a son while women on restricted diets are more likely to produce daughters.
Since I’m an artist by nature, writer by trade and scatterbrain by heart, I’m notorious for starting projects and well…uh, never finishing them. Over the past 8 years or so, I’ve started a handful of blogs and lost interest or lost passwords. Since the driving force behind Babyrific was so different, I amazed myself that I even kept up and somewhat flourished.
I keep promising myself that I’m going to change the layout, join mom networks, do this, add a blogroll, blah blah blah… The day I don’t fall asleep watching Access Hollywood is the day I’ll actually get to it. I swear!
Today also marks the day I found out I was pregnant, and the whole reason I started this blog in the first place. It’s a year later and with a bubbly 3 month old and a lot of gray hair to show for it, things sure have changed. While I don’t anticipate any new family members any time soon (much to Jeff’s chagrin,) I’m hoping for more new developments in this next year … and a whole new set of reasons for me to believe again!
Thanks for keeping up with me!
I have a secret.
I ate brownies for breakfast this morning. I’m not talking like one square. More like, half the freaking pan. I’m not apologizing or anything. I’m just sharing because they were damn good.
Let’s get something straight here: Before I got pregnant with our giant baby, I never ate breakfast. Instead, I had 2 cigarettes and 2 cups of very potent coffee to wash it all down. Healthy, right? So, once the whole world advised that I should eat healthier, I obliged…except, the healthy stuff kinda got lost in the mix. Oops. At least I gave up the cigarettes and actually ate breakfast. (the baby “craved” sausage, egg and cheese on a roll from the deli.)
So, now that I have Jack and nurse him EVERY 2 hours on the dot, I’m always huuungry. I eat everything in sight it seems like. But can I brag for a second? My voracious eater is my best weight loss regimen EVAH.
During my pregnancy, I gained almost 40 lbs. And between us, I weighed A LOT. I thought for sure that I’d be featured on Maury one day and Jeff would have to hire a crane to remove me out of bed.
Much to my surprise, I am happy to report that a few weeks ago, I got back down to my pre-pregnancy weight. Yay me. Seriously though, that’s not saying much. Actually, that’s not saying a damn thing!! I still have a long way to go before I don a bathing suit, or a skirt for that matter. The weight is generously redistributed thanks to gravity. Jeff’s been saying that he’s watched the weight just melt off. As sweet as he is, when you’re in sweats all day, how can you tell? So, when I wore a non-maternity dress for the first time this YEAR over the weekend, I actually felt good in my own non-pregnant skin.
I’ve been secretly patting my back since I shed all the baby weight even though it hasn’t been that ‘easy.’ Breastfeeding on demand for 2 months has been the hardest job I’ve ever had in my life, ya’ll. (Again, can you tell we just got back from Va. with the ya’ll.) Mama deserves a brownie or 5!
I’ve got a long way to go and now that I have the ok to go back to the gym, I hope to continue losing the excess weight. We’ll see how it goes.
Back to those delicious brownies…since I was in an especially Christmassy mood last night, I decided to bake! So, right before the Rockefeller Tree Lighting came on, I whipped up a batch of Trader Joe’s Truffle Brownies since our kitchen is bare. It’s like heaven in a box. Everything from TJ’s is awesome, but those brownies blow Betty Crocker out of the kitchen.
If you go to Trader Joe’s I recommend stocking up before I buy all the boxes myself– on the way to the gym of course!
Remember how my OB said Jack’s True Knot indicated good luck? um, yeah. I don’t think that good luck stuff goes into effect any time soon. Actually, to be accurate, it seems my/our bad luck is back, but with a vengeance!
Let’s backtrack a little here. After I had my c-section a month and a half ago, I had a somewhat difficult time with recovery. Not only is my threshold for pain pretty low, but it was pretty difficult functioning on little to no sleep and taking pain meds. Plus, I insisted on doing too much almost all the time, and of course my body punished me. So yeah, my recovery was somewhat tumultuous. Thankfully, the abdominal pain is gone, but lucky me, I have new ailments to replace it!
About 3 weeks ago, I had an itch above my incision, but below my belly button. Since I was too scared to look at the scar, I figured it was my incision healing. A few days later, the itch intensified, as if I had a village of fire ants setting up shop under my skin. Gradually, as the days went on, I’d scratch a little harder and of course, the minor rash spread to a full blown “skin condition.” As I always do, I went to the internet and did a preliminary self-diagnosis and prayed that I was jumping to conclusions.
At my 6-week postpartum appointment last Friday, my dr. confirmed exactly what I was afraid of: I have postpartum PUPPPS. ugh. Why me!!?!! I suppose, if I had to choose, I’m somewhat glad that I have it now rather than during my last trimester when I was miserable for a million other reasons. I really could NOT imagine scratching my eyeballs out when I was that big and uncomfortable. Of course, that’s not to say that I’m any more comfortable now, but at least my body is back to its almost original size and I don’t have an enormous belly to contend with!
So, back to the itching: For those that don’t know, PUPPPS is Pruritic Urticarial Papules and Plaques of Pregnancy. Essentially, it’s an annoying skin condition that primarily affects pregnant women and is nothing short of annoying as hell. My dr. attributed the rash to hormones and how my body is trying to deal with the changes. According to what I’ve read and what the dr. said, it’s not harmful to me or the baby, just annoying and painful. As I mentioned, my rash started on my belly and unfortunately, it’s spread like wild fire to my hips, breasts, back side and up and down my arms. As much as I don’t want to, I itch constantly and the rash spreads even further. It feels sort of like poison ivy or the hives, but probably much more intense.
When I showed my dr. what was going on, his eyes lit up and was like, “oh wow, that is bad.” um, ya THINK? The dr. prescribed Clobetasol cream, which so far has been excellent other than the fact that I can only use it twice a day–possibly because of the ingredients and me breastfeeding. But when I went to go get the prescription filled, I couldn’t believe my eyes. They gave me a tiny tube of this cream. I’m talking tiny– like smaller than a travel sized toothpaste. I took it out of the box and mouthed “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Did I say that my rash is ALL OVER. and did I mention that it’s on my back side too. My dr. should’ve prescribed 2 years worth based on the size of my back side alone!!
But seriously, the prescription is working ok. In between the prescription applications, I was advised that I could slather on Benadryl and whatever else that made me comfortable. I bought an anti-itch lotion called Sarna that’s been miraculous because of its cooling effect. I’d give anything to soak in a big tub filled with Benadryl and Sarna. Other than that, warm baths with Aveeno soap and sipping on a cold beer after the baby has gone to bed have comforted me. The dr. said that PUPPPs usually goes away after you deliver. Well, considering I did that almost 2 months ago, he assumes I have a month left of suffering!!! God help me!
Having to deal with all these new transitions, the hormones, the lack of sleep AND a debilitating rash is so overwhelming. I must have hit the pregnancy ailment and complication lottery! Who gets a pregnancy rash almost 2 months LATER. oh, me!! I asked Jeff last night if Crackheads who get pregnant get these pregnancy and post partum ailments too. I mean, they probably don’t, right? Well, Jeff’s answer made me forget about my latest misery and itching for a quick second.
“All our suffering and now your new condition brought us Jack. If we didn’t go through all of this we wouldn’t have this perfect little guy.” I don’t know about perfect 😉 but coming from his mama, he’s pretty damn close.
I gazed at Jack who was peacefully asleep with his disheveled hair, crooked head tilt and half-opened mouth and I smiled. He might keep us up at nights and eat like a Barracuda, but not surprisingly, Jack overshadows all the misery, rashes and itchiness that have come our way.
…Ask me again at 3am when I’m slathering Benadryl in between feeding our constantly hungry child!! 🙂
Exactly one month ago, after several years of trying, many months of anticipation and a grueling delivery to boot, Jackson finally made his arrival. His grand entrance was a memorable one, and one we’re told was rare and should bring us good luck. ha.
It’s been a long but oddly a very short-lived month, one where patience was tested, lessons were learned and of course, many hours of sleep were lost…but still a month of unbridled happiness and immeasurable joy.
Just the other night, while I was enduring yet another one of the 3:00a.m. breastfeeding sessions, I heard the crazy drunkards hooting and hollering on our street. I couldn’t help but feel nostalgic and remember that WE were 2 of the many crazies (maybe not screaming) but drinking one too many for our own good. And then I looked down, saw our little man smirk back at me, as if to say, “I’m so worth it.”
And then, that nostalgia quickly turned into bitterness because dangit, who goes around yelling at 3am in the morning when people are trying to tend to their children. haha.
But no, really… while I do miss the craziness and spontaneity that we seemed to thrive on, all of that prepared us for what really matters– us. As in, the THREE of us.
Our first month together has been an unforgettable time filled with lots of family, friends, misadventures, pee, poop and barf. All the essentials in life. Every morning when I wake up to Jeff snoozing at my side and Jack, whether he’s groaning or ‘singing,’ my heart melts and I’m reminded how blessed we are.
And so, as we’ve sacrificed temporary things like sleep and late night trips to the bar, and fill our home with dirtied burp cloths and bulky baby paraphernalia, the baby smiles and hey, even baby toots make it oh so worth it.
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The stats and misc. one month milestones:
- at one month, Jack is 12.5 lbs and about 23 in.
- Mom has reluctantly packed away all newborn clothes, most 0-3 clothes.
- Jack is comfortably wearing 3m clothes.
- He’s wearing size 1 diapers and about to transition into size 2.
- Jack has been nursing well for about a month and takes a bottle when we travel or when mom needs a break.
- Jack has been introduced to almost all of the family and to a few of our friends.
- His first road trip was to West Chester, PA to visit the Schmidt family.
- Jack’s first big trip will be to Va. for Thanksgiving, where he’ll meet the rest of the family and friends.
- Jack has been to NYC a few times–ridden in a cab, ferry, but no bus or train quite yet.
- Jack and mommy (sadly) spend a lot of time in the laundromat.
- When he hears daddy’s voice, Jack’s eyeballs light up.
- Since day 2, Jack has loved to pop his head up on his own. Now, he tries to maintain his posture, which makes him look like a wobbly turtle. (a very cute one)
- When he’s mad or hungry(or when mom takes too many damn pictures) he turns a vivid shade of angry!
- Jack has a few distinct coos…all of them sound like birds. His owl coo means mom or dad are doing something right.
- Jack has started to smile more consistently, especially when he sees the
milk machinemama. - And even though he’s currently congested and sometimes uncomfortable, Jack is one tough, but easy going baby.
Happy one month, kiddo!
Jeff said he sat in the empty birthing suite in his scrubs for 15 long minutes as they continued to prep me in the OR.
It was definitely a long 15 minutes. Not having a hand, specifically his hand, to hold at the scariest, most painful time in my life was much more than I could comprehend. While I laid on the operating table, I kept my eyes closed but would peek intermittently to see if the anesthesiologist had arrived to save the day yet. Considering I’d never had surgery or even stayed at a hospital overnight, I remember thinking that the OR was exactly how it’s portrayed on TV. It was sterile and white– exactly the way I’d imagined it would be. Actually, it was THE only aspect of my birthing experience that was just like it’s shown on tv. And finally, when I peeked again, I heard an unfamiliar voice among all the counting of the surgical equipment. It was my savior– the anesthesiologist! He had to measure stuff, ask me questions then finally after all the moans and groans, he topped my epidural off with some good, strong stuff, enough to hold me off for the C-section. He didn’t have to inject anything directly in me since I had the epidural already wired in. Within minutes, the excruciating, imploding pain had subsided and then I could focus on what was going on besides my pain. I heard my dr’s dialogue with the anesthesiologist, basically implying that the medicine needed to hurry up and be administered because we were on a tight time table. I then realized that beyond the nurses, my dr. had another OB assisting in my surgery.
And then, what was probably the weirdest thing ever, my dr. had to do a test cut to make sure the meds were strong enough. He did a quick slice, starting on my left side. I felt the sensation of the first cut, but not the pain. Dr. said I wasn’t quite ready but would be within the next 3 minutes or so. I felt the urgency in his voice. And then finally, he told the nurses to go get Jeff. Once Jeff arrived, I was even more relaxed…well, considering the circumstances!
The drugs made me feel 10000% better than I felt half an hour earlier. I remember getting pretty inquisitive. Since the anesthesiologist was sitting by my head, I kept asking him questions, like he was the tour guide for C-sections.”So, what does it feel like?” I asked him “Well, many women have said that once the baby is pulled out, it feels like a giant elephant sitting on your chest.” he told me. I’m glad I befriended this doc because all the questions I asked him made me almost forget what was going on. Even though there was a tarp like thing hiding the surgery, I was within earshot of the drs and nurses. I heard my dr. telling the other dr. that he had to do something quick because the baby was so far down in the birth canal. I even heard the dr. realize part of the reason why the baby wouldn’t descend. And then I tried to focus on the different sensations and tugging that was going on. I didn’t want to miss the baby’s first cry. So after a minute or two of forceful pulling, my dr. finally pulled the baby out and the giant elephant sat on my chest. Wow. He wasn’t kidding about that analogy! That’s exactly what it felt like. It was right about then when my dr. asked Jeff if he wanted to see his baby boy. He told Jeff he could stand up, but could not touch anything sterilized that was in blue. Jeff stood up, saw our alien-like squirmy newborn and was completely smitten. Jeff also said, as he sat back down, the dr. shifted and then he could see my “insides” just sitting on the table. mmmmm. nice.
After Jeff sat back down, I could hear that the baby was finally here. And it was then that I first heard him. I knew they had to flush his system a bit to remove fluid, so it took a moment for him to cry. But once he let out that first cry, my heart thumped a lot louder and the tears began to flow. I couldn’t see him yet, but I knew I loved him, just from the sounds of it. The dr. continued with my surgery. It felt like he was rearranging my organs and cleaning up shop and even rattling my vertebrae just a bit. It was quite uncomfortable to feel all that movement going back in. I felt him sew up the insides and then do stuff to the outside. I also heard a blow torch thing?? and smelled a strange burning thing. I still have no idea what THAT was, but whatever. It took another 10 minutes for all that to finish up.
While he was sewing me up, the dr. started to tell Jeff and me that we made the right decision at the right time. He said we didn’t have just 1 thing going against us causing the distress, but we had basically 4 factors that could’ve created a different result, had we gone another route. The dr said, first his size was an obvious factor. We knew he was big, but nobody really doubted that he’d have problems coming out. UM, I KNEW! Secondly, the baby had meconium stains on his face which can be very serious. Meconium stains indicate distress during delivery and if too much is swallowed, it can create a lot of problems. Then the baby had the umbilical cord around his neck almost twice. While it’s almost common to see this among babies being born nowadays, that too can create problems. And then the big one– the baby had a true knot in his umbilical cord. Since Jack was so active in utero, he created an actual knot in the cord. The knot could have created circulation issues and even resulted in a cord accident, but thankfully things worked out in our favor. We were told that with the cord around his neck combined with the true knot, the umbilical cord was like a bungee cord for the baby, so I could’ve pushed for 2 days, and he probably would have never completely descended on his own. My dr. said the the true knot is so rare that it only occurs in 1 in every 10,000 or so births. And basically, it means good luck. WHAT! good luck? haha. you’ve got to be kidding me. After all that? Now you tell me I have good luck. We could’ve used the luck before the birth!
We didn’t really need luck afterall– we made one quick decision that ensured the safety and health of our beautiful boy. And that’s all that matters.
After all the serious talk, I asked, what day it was? I couldn’t figure out if it was Wed, Thurs or Friday at that point. I wanted to know when Jack was born, as well as all of his stats. I was so excited and drugged up, I had to know right then! The drs told me they had to take the baby right away to the nursery to do all of his stats and the initial testing, so I wouldn’t be able to see him for long. But thankfully, they brought him around to show me. I kissed my boy, sobbed a lot and glanced at my husband, who beamed even brighter. Even though it wasn’t the way I envisioned my birthing experience, it was still the most unscripted and seemingly characteristic way to welcome our first born. We wouldn’t have had it any other way. From going overdue and then finding out that his umbilical cord could have created long term, even fatal problems, all we could think was how blessed we were to be able to finally meet Jackson Foster. Jack measured at 21 inches, 8 lbs and 14 oz. and was officially welcomed into the world at 10:34 on September 27th.
The nurses kept saying, wow he’s a big boy. Yeah, he’s really big! In fact, he was the biggest newborn in the nursery during our stay. haha. go figure.
All it took was just a few seconds and I immediately (well, temporarily at least) forgot about the years of heartache, the 9 months of morning sickness and discomfort, the 27 hours of difficult labor and 2 painful hours of unsuccessful pushing.
In just one instant, I was so completely in love and he was FINALLY all ours.
A few weeks ago, when I was still very pregnant, a few people including my dr. asked me if I had a birth plan. For those that don’t know, a birth plan is essentially a guideline of what you’d like to happen during your birthing experience. With all of the modern medicine and technology, child birth can pretty much happen any way you like, of course at your dr’s discretion.
Well, my answer to the birth plan question was always, “I just want my baby to arrive healthy and happy.” I knew I more than likely wouldn’t be able to have the baby natural and without any pain meds. I also knew that I was pretty open to whatever procedure that would’ve been medically necessary. I trusted my dr. and knew he was capable of helping us with difficult decisions, should we be faced with any. Looking back now, I’m so thankful that we went into our induction and child birth experience with an open mind. In many ways, that open mind is what saved the day in many ways.
At about 8pm on September 27th, about 24 hours after arriving at the birthing suite, many hours of IVs and labor-inducing drugs, it was finally Go Time. It was time to have this baby! I remembered Jeff calling my parents who were burning a hole in our rug from all of their pacing and waiting. I vividly remember Maria, the head nurse cheering me on and telling me the “key” to a successful delivery was to concentrate on pushing the right way– like you have to go #2 really, really bad. Lovely.
I also remember looking at the clock and thinking, I hope Jack will be one of those babies who just pops out. haha. What a silly thought that was!
Once everyone was in place, the doc studied my monitors and told the whole crew that the first round would be practice. We were supposed to wait for my next contraction, which would occur precisely within 3 minutes. Waiting for that first crescendo of a contraction was the longest 3 minutes, ever. And then, there it was.
The doc counted to 10, instructed me to hold the count and push, the nurses held my legs and I kept my eyes shut, praying for this to all be over soon before my epidural wore off. I did what I was told, but I knew it wasn’t nearly enough. The first round, even though a it was a practice round, didn’t give me much hope. I couldn’t help but think about the epidural and how it was completely turned off. Then Maria the nurse reassured me that I did great, although I had to concentrate harder and push with even more force. I had to do it, I thought. I had to have this baby. We came this far, worked this hard and I wasn’t going to be pessimistic about the way it was going to all go down.
So, I pushed and pushed over and over. Every round got even more difficult, but after the first hour I knew I was making progress. In between the contractions, the nurses and Jeff would watch My Name is Earl and then The Office as I laid there, eyes completely closed. When it was almost time, the nurses, dr and Jeff would then stare at my monitors, waiting for the contractions. After awhile, I was able to tell them when it was about to begin. The start of the contraction was like the calmness of the beginning of a wave as it approached, just as it was about to break. It started subtle, reached a peak and when the height of the pain from the contraction and the effort from all the pushing met, progress was surely happening. But sadly, not enough progress was happening.
And then about 2 hours into the pushing regime, the doc got super serious and pretty much told us we had to make a decision. I was even more exhausted and downtrodden at that point. Jeff held my hand as the dr. spoke to us. Doc said, I could either try pushing a little more with the help of a vacuum or we could just go straight to a C-section. The doc told us the risks with both and said, the vacuum might help, but nothing was guaranteed, meaning it might not work and then I’d HAVE to have a C-section if it failed. With the C-section, we knew what the final outcome would be. I looked at Jeff, Jeff looked at me and very little words were said. He basically said that he supported me and knew whatever route I’d choose would be the best way. As much as I knew how difficult recovery would be, my first instinct was C-section. I knew the baby had to come out within minutes and I also knew my body was done. After all those drugs, contractions and pushing, I knew my limits.
As soon as I told the doc that I wanted to go the C-section route, the baby showed even more distress on the monitor, voices started to flare and wouldn’t you know it, my epidural ran out. So, not only was I completely terrified about the baby, this major abdominal surgery and the recovery, I was also in the most awful pain I’d ever felt in my life. It was a little after 10pm at this point. The dr. and nurses were putting on the surgery gear and wheeling tools into the OR. My eyes were still shut, but no longer out of fear and for complete concentration, I feared that if I opened them, my eyeballs would bulge out from all the pain and moaning I was feeling. For those next few minutes, while the nurses prepped me for surgery, I don’t remember much other than them transferring me to a gurney, giving me another catheter and telling me it’d be ok. I somewhat remember them directing Jeff what to do next. I also heard a nurse from a distance if they should tell my parents who were in the waiting room. I screamed at the nurse and begged her not to say anything until after the surgery. While I didn’t want to withhold important information from them, I didn’t want them to have heart attacks either!
All these quick decisions, piercing pain and major events happening all at once– it was almost too much. All my brain could absorb was the feeling of my uterus wanting to implode! And then it was time to be wheeled off to the OR. Jeff had to wait in the birthing suite until they came and got him. I remember Jeff kissing me and telling me he’d be there as soon as he could. I forgot I said this, but Jeff said right after he kissed me, all I could mumble back to him was, “it hurts. it hurts so bad.” And they wheeled me off.
I celebrated a pretty big milestone in my new mommy and former pregnant life: I had my 2 week post-op check up with the doc. I’m going to sound like a broken record, but it’s hard to believe another week has already passed!
Since the doc and I recounted my induction and delivery story in detail yesterday, I thought it’d be a good time to hopefully finish up my loooong and drawn out birth story.
I think I stopped at the epidural. So, yeah, everyone sings their high praises about the epidural and how it takes all the pain away, yadda, yadda, yadda. While I wholeheartedly agree, nobody ever really talks about their fears of the actual process of inserting the epidural and what it entails. Plain and simple: it was scary to me. I hate needles, always have and always will. But with my induction, I really had no choice but to buck up and go with the flow. It seemed like anytime I turned my head, I had a new injection or a new bag of fluid being pumped into me. But really, the epidural, especially in the very artificial and scientific process of elective induction, is quite a medical phenomenon. Read the rest of this entry »
introducing our long awaited little man, Jackson Foster.
Baby Jack was born on Thursday, September 27 at 10:34 p.m. He weighed in at 8 lbs. 14 oz. and measures at 21 in. For those that don’t know, we faced quite the complicated road to reach our final destination. After all is said and done, it was a road well worth traveling.
Quite simply, Jack is love and patience personified.
Thank you to everyone for all of your love and support
Now that we’re finally home, once I write it up, I’ll have the birth story and more to come!
I thought I’d post an update in case anyone is wondering. I had my last scheduled dr’s appointment yesterday. I went in ready for the dr. to say, let’s go to the hospital today and have this baby. But since I know it doesn’t exactly work that way, I was somewhat prepared for the disappointing news.
I didn’t make much progress since last week. While I’m almost completely effaced and been having timeable contractions, I’m not dilated much more than 1cm. I still have favorable signs of going into labor on my own, but who knows when that could be.
Jeff voiced his concerns to me earlier in the week because he’s been doing his own research and reading. He told me that while it’s completely my decision and values my judgment, he’d prefer if I waited the extra week and try to go into labor on my own. Both anxiously and selfishly, I did not even want to think about going beyond this week. My fears of this baby being too big and creating any unnecessary trauma for him is clouding all judgment at this point. And quite frankly, I’m exhausted, not only physically, but from all the unsolicited advice coming my way. I love the support and feedback I get, but with me feeling so worn out and defeated at this point, I just can’t take another “well, my sister’s fiance’s cousin was 3 weeks overdue and her baby was only 7lbs…”
I know I’m not the first woman to face delivering an estimated big baby, nor the first person to go beyond my due date, but that doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to be terrified and anxious of the unknown.
So, after delivering the news that I hadn’t made much more progress, the dr. asked how I felt. I glanced at Jeff, released a heavy sigh and told him the obvious: “I’m tired and so done.” We talked more about the possibility of induction and scheduling or whether I wanted to wait the extra week. The dr. said, at this point, induction would not be a medical necessity since I’m not really overdue or high risk. Jeff told him how he felt about waiting the extra week. And with the dr. throwing around the words, “elective” and “unnecessary,” my confidence level plummeted. Reluctantly, I told him that I’d have no qualms with waiting it out, if that’s what he suggested.
“There’s no right and wrong in this decision,” he admitted. “And to be truthful Jen, if you are feeling defeated and exhausted like it appears that you are, waiting the extra week won’t necessarily help.”
Laden with guilt, selfishness and confusion, I wanted nothing more than to burst into tears at that very moment.
With a heavy heart, I asked the dr. if we could mull it over and call him back in the evening. “Not a problem,” he said. “It’s a big decision to make.” And as if a lightbulb went off he went on to say, “oh, for scheduling purposes, I should let you know, if you guys decide to wait until next week, I won’t be here. Dr. B will be on call since I have some family obligations next Wed. and Thurs.”
Great, doc. Throw even more BS into the equation why don’t you. Who ever heard of drs having a life outside of delivering babies, I thought. haha.
Jeff said, as soon as the dr. told us that, my facial expression changed and he knew I’d made up my mind. So, like the observant, dutiful husband he is, Jeff said, “Well, I think that detail alone made up our minds. We’d like to go ahead and schedule the induction for this week.”
I felt so relieved. Not only did I not want to wait another week and endure more tests, but I did not want a different dr. While the other dr. who would be on call is very capable (he is my gyn and has delivered hundreds and hundreds of healthy babies), we had a very solid rapport with Dr. M. I know and realize that the L&D nurses do most of the work during delivery; however, it would be my dr’s call on how this delivery and experience would progress. We’d met with this dr. over the duration of my pregnancy, he’s been very involved and has helped make it as wonderful as it’s been. I did not feel comfortable changing directions at this point.
So, there you have it. Unless I go into labor beforehand, I will go into the hospital tomorrow night to be induced. If things progress well with no major problems, our little dude should be here sometime Thursday.
It’s quite daunting to accept the fact that really, I have no control whatsoever about this whole childbirth thing. I don’t really have an idyllic childbirth plan or scenario. I just want a healthy baby and happy family. I know it’ll be painful, and even moreso now with the induction. I know it’ll be long and exhausting. But what I do know is that my incredible husband will be right there with me.
With my parents coming up tomorrow and Jeff’s parents to follow this weekend, not to mention the throngs of family and friends from a distance, we’ve got a very solid support system ready and waiting to welcome Baby B. into this world!
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