She's here!

Introducing Tziona Esther Gras, born 7 lbs 4oz on Christmas Day, 2009, at 3:39 pm.

I have gotten many requests for details about the birth, so here it is. For those with abundant free time and an interest in childbirth, read on. If talk of hospitals and body parts and pain makes you bored/queasy/angry, I would probably stop reading now.

The story begins on Christmas Eve in the morning. I was having decent contractions, although they were irregular and spaced pretty far apart, so Sam stayed home from work. Things really didn't pick up, so we just hung out at home and made chocolate chip cookies for the nurses since we assumed we'd end up there at some point in the near future.

At around 5:30 pm (while watching 21 Jump Street on Hulu), I felt a gush and realized my membranes had ruptured. We spoke to the doctor, who was concerned about meconium staining in the amniotic fluid, so we headed to the hospital. Ultimately, we were admitted even though I was barely dilated, and I was hooked up to a Pitocin IV and fetal monitor around 11 pm. And while this wasn't really what I had envisioned for the birth, I decided it wasn't worth risking further complications from infection and low fluid levels.

I labored without any pain medication for about 4 hours, trying every different position I could while remaining hooked up to the monitor. We had an AMAZING nurse who had tons of suggestions and supported both Sam and I as much as we needed. But when I was examined at 3 am and found out I was only 2 cm, I realized there was no way I could handle another 8-9 hours of almost-constant contractions. When I finally asked for the epidural, I felt totally defeated, but I also knew I had reached the threshold of what I was capable of physically handling.

Once the epidural was in, Sam and I were both able to get a few hours of sleep. We woke up around 7 and the next several hours are just a blur in my mind. In the early afternoon, my OB came in for another check and I was finally 9 cm, but the baby was face-up. After a little discussion, she successfully turned her and all of a sudden I was 10 cm!

I started pushing around 1:30 just as the epidural was wearing off. There are no words in my vocabulary to describe how confusing and painful the next 2 hours were. Even with all the encouragement from my doctor, nurse, and husband, I just couldn't get her head all the way out. As I was ready to give up yet again and ask for a forcep-assist, the doctor brought in someone to push down on my belly for just a few more contractions. All I can remember is screaming as the head finally emerged, at which point they realized the cord was wrapped loosely around her, the probable cause of all the difficulty. Once the cord was cut, she popped right out, and just like that, it was over.

She was suctioned and cleaned up while Sam took pictures. There was some concern about her breathing, but ultimately they decided she was fine. I held her almost right away and she immediately began trying to breastfeed. Someone asked me the other day what my first thoughts were when I held her, and I wish I could remember but I was so exhausted and overwhelmed, I can't recollect any emotion other than relief.

We went home the next day, exactly 24 hours later. Our first night at home together was surprisingly easy, thanks to my incredible husband. And so here we are, a family of three at last, excitedly looking forward to everything the future holds for us.

Patience...

It's only a matter of time now. After a small meltdown the other night, I am feeling a bit better about everything, and I do feel like she might come soon. Regardless, I think I'll probably hold off on any further commenting on the situation until everything is over, just to avoid making myself insane.

As the year comes to a close and I think about spending almost all of it being pregnant, I realize just how much my life has changed in 2009. We started the year as newlyweds, and we're going to finish it as parents, which is a bit crazy. But every day I am even more certain that we have made the right choices and we're going to fine, better than fine, with the inevitable chaos of 2010.

And while I still think 10 months is a totally ridiculous amount of time to be pregnant, it has forced us to pause somewhat and adjust to the idea of being three instead of two.

I'm done counting days because at this point, does it really matter?

Acceptance

Yes, I've reached the point of accepting that this baby is not going to surprise me and come early, no matter what I try. And I have also accepted the possibility of an induction in 2 weeks if she's really pokey.

Like I have some sort of choice in the matter.

Needles and Pins

I had my first labor induction acupuncture treatment yesterday. I certainly didn't expect immediate results, but I guess part of of me was secretly hoping for some really strong contractions or something. Nada. I'm going back tomorrow and as many times as I can squeeze in next week in hopes that it will have some sort of effect.

After doing a little investigation on the internet, it seems that acupuncture really just has the same effect as all the other homeopathic/natural things I've been trying, i.e. it stimulates the production of prosteglandin and oxytocin to help soften the cervix and prepare the body for labor. The baby still has to be ready to come for it to have any effect, or as the acupuncturist said, "when the fruit is ripe, it fall from the vine." Oh well.

While I'm happy Sam is excited, his impatience does nothing to ease my own. And my mother will be here in a week, which is adding a bit to my anxiety as well since I'm not exactly what we're going to do together other than wait for the baby to come. If I didn't feel so much like my pelvis was being crushed, I think I would have a slightly more positive attitude about things, but who knows, maybe not.

12 days until my due date...

I'll try anything

Yes, I know I'm only 38 weeks and TECHNICALLY, this kid has 14 days before she's even overdue. But anyone who knows me realizes patience is not my strong suit. Combine natural impatience with incredible discomfort, and you have a woman ready to try anything to move things along at a quicker pace.

The ridiculousness about anything rumored to hasten or induce labor is that there is actually no way of knowing or proving if they work. Ultimately, babies just come when they want to and in all likelihood, nothing we do really affects them one way or another. But here's what I've tried so far:

• red raspberry leaf tea every day for the last 2 months - this actually isn't supposed to induce labor, just tone the cervix to prepare for a more effective labor
• evening primrose oil at every meal for the last 2 weeks
• pineapple - tons of pineapple, with some kiwi and mango thrown in for good measure
• tons of cardio - the other day I informed Sam I wasn't coming home from the gym until the baby was born...after 45 minutes on the treadmill and 30 minutes on the elliptical, I had to face the fact it wasn't going to happen
• spicy food - Thai, Malaysian, clumps of wasabi with my sushi...nothing
• squatting, sitting on an exercise ball, climbing stairs
• relaxation and visualization - if only I had the power to make things happen just by thinking about them, life would be a lot more interesting
• and yes, the one everyone suggests with a giggle, since nothing is funnier than the idea of an enormously pregnant woman having lots of sex

Still yet untried:

• labor induction acupuncture
• massage
• castor oil - I have to say, this is my last last resort since everything I've read makes it sound absolutely horrible and I feel awful enough without help

Am I forgetting anything? It's 14 days until the due date, so I'm open to suggestions...

UPDATE:

So I got a prenatal massage yesterday. While it was amazing and I felt way more relaxed and in less pain afterwards, I'm still very pregnant.

Less than stellar

Today my company laid off some hardworking employees for no reason other than saving a little money. It makes me angry and sad to know how little integrity corporate America truly has. I have to wonder what this means for me as someone about to go on a 3-month leave, if I'll get paid properly while I am out, what kind of place I will face when I come back to work. Throughout my pregnancy, I have tried so hard not to let anything affect the effort I put into my job, even when I was constantly nauseated, or now, when every step I take sends waves of pain shooting through my body. And what for? Do they even appreciate it or take notice at all? Or are we all just numbers on a spreadsheet?

It's enough to make a pregnant lady curl up on the couch with a cat and cry.

Love this

This blog is amazing. If ever anyone as ever written words closer to my own heart, I have yet to discover them.

Personal favorites so far:

#2 Try to know what is bubbling around inside your heart.
#16 Call if you are going to be late.
#31 If you are out to dinner with a group and get stuck with a bill that is more then you owe, just pay it and don't give it a second thought.
#80 Not everyone is going to like you, and that's just fine.
#98 If you haven't worn it in a year, give it away.
#136 Try to bring things into your home that you either need or love and let the rest go.
#152 Men as a rule are not good mind readers.
#193 Leggings are not pants.
#203 Return your shopping cart. (oh, the elaboration she gives on this is just brilliant)
#209 If you test people, they may fail.

Birth day

No, not the baby's. That would be way too easy.

Today is my dear husband's 31st birthday. Sadly, we're both at work, I have a cold, and his celebration is going to consist of take-out sushi and hopefully a fancy dessert if I can pull my act together this evening. We bought him a few presents over the weekend during our 11-hour Black Friday shopping marathon, and he seems pretty pleased with those. Poor guy will forever have to share his birthday month with our anniversary and the baby, which kind-of takes the specialness away, unfortunately. But I figured I could at least write him a little thank-you letter and post it here so everyone on the Internet knows how amazing I think he is.

Dear Sam,

While I wish your birthday could be marked with lavish celebration and great rejoicing every year as you certainly deserve, this year I hope sharing the night with me and your little-girl-to-be will suffice because, well, it's all I've got for you. I wish there were some way I could show you how immensely grateful and happy I am to be sharing my life with you on this day. In the three short years we've known each other, we have experienced so much joy and accomplished every goal we have set together, and I cannot imagine having a better partner than you.

Thank you for every moment that we spend together, for your patience and kindness, your enthusiasm and optimism. Thank you for second chances and forgiveness and your unwavering support through all types of challenges. Thank you for being willing to compromise and for always keeping an open mind to new experiences and ideas. Thank you for working so hard at everything in life, and for never giving up on me or yourself. Thank you for creating a new life with me and sharing my excitement for building our family, even when the process is less-than-enjoyable. You have made a lot of difficult choices and sacrifices over these last few years, and I know it hasn't been easy, but I hope it has been worth it.

I love you more and more every day, and I know we have decades of wonderful and crazy adventures ahead of us. There is no one in the world I would rather grow old with.

Yours forever and ever,
Sara

No such thing as soon enough

Ok, so now things are starting to be unpleasant. As I told a friend today, I am probably in pain 75% of the day. Apparently this is "normal" and nothing to be concerned about. So fine. Not concerned. Just irritated.

It's not the pain that bothers me, I'm well-versed in physical discomfort and totally fine with it. But it's the waiting for the pain to change, to grow, to have a purpose, that is making me totally nuts. My dreams are all about going into labor and having this baby. Every time I stand up and walk to the bathroom, I analyze the pain to see if anything feels different. I have probably Googled "pre-labor pains" and every variation I can think of 15 times in the last 3 days.

I just want something, anything, to happen that will give me some idea of how many more days I'll wake up feeling like my body has been taken over by an alien, how much longer I'll have to wait to see my baby, how long I have before I cross over the line to being a Parent and leave being a Daughter behind.

Optimal

Had the 36 week visit this morning, the baby is head down and facing back, so she's in the optimal birth position! Breech delivery can pretty much officially be checked off the list of things to worry about, so that's a relief.

I am obviously still fretting about the possibility of needing an induction at 41 weeks. The acupuncturist I've been seeing for back/pelvic pain said there are induction treatments he can do at 39 weeks, so I guess I can give that a shot if necessary. It all depends on what happens over the next few weeks, I suppose. No dilation or effacement yet, but there's still time.

I couldn't sleep last night, I think the excitement is starting to get to me. Only 29 days until everything changes forever!

So wise

While I've never been one to read women's magazines for the sage advice, a recent interview with Michelle Obama in Glamour had a quote that pretty much captures exactly what I wish someone had said to me years ago about men:

"Look at the heart. Look at the soul. Look at how the guy treats his mother and what he says about women. How he acts with children he doesn't know. And, more important, how does he treat you? When you're dating a man you should always feel good. You should never feel less than. You should never doubt yourself. You shouldn't be in a relationship with somebody who doesn't make you completely happy and make you feel whole."

I mean, it seems fairly obvious right? Like something we should instinctively know as women? Yet we have all at one time or another completely lost sight of this in seeking out partners, either because we thought other things were more important, like money or career choices, or maybe because we didn't believe we deserved to feel this way. Regardless, preparing to have a little girl makes me want to save thoughts like this to share with her when the time is right, maybe the day she asks me why I was so old when I got married...

Birthing Class

I cannot say enough good things about the birthing class we chose. On a recommendation from a friend of a friend, I had checked out The Bradley Method months ago, then searched for a class in the New York area. After sending a few emails, I was directed to Mary Esther Malloy, who teaches classes regularly in New York City and also Westchester. She is an experienced doula and trained Bradley instructor, and at the end of our 8 weeks of class, I honestly feel like I know EXACTLY what to expect when the baby comes. Obviously, there are so many different possible scenarios, but we went over everything so thoroughly and completely, I don't expect any huge surprises.

I think the best thing about the Bradley Method is that husbands are encouraged and educated to be their wives biggest supporters in natural childbirth. Sam admitted the idea of having a natural unmedicated birth scared him, that he had never known anyone who had actually done it, and he had no idea what it entailed. But after doing some reading and taking the classes, we both agree that it is definitely our preference to have as natural a birth as possible given the circumstances. Without passing judgment on those who choose medicated births, I am completely certain that this is 100% the best choice.

And yes, I realize I haven't actually gone through it yet. And yes, I'm aware it will hurt. But it's one day of pain, and I'm fairly certain I will survive it. After all, women all over the world have been giving birth without pain meds since the beginning of time, and somehow the human species has persisted. Ultimately, I wonder how many American women actually take the time to educate themselves about what a medicated birth actually means, both for themselves and for their baby, and to consider why we are so quick to cut ourselves off from the physical experience of one of the greatest things our bodies will ever accomplish.

I was sad to hear from my doctor this week that if I go a week past my due date, they will have to induce me. While I am so excited for the baby, I will be so disappointed if I end up chained to an IV and a monitor in a hospital bed for my delivery after all the things we've learned and prepared for. But I guess that means this will be a 2009 baby, whether she likes it or not!

39 days to go.

Almost a year ago...

Sam was a groomsman in a friend's wedding this weekend. Seeing the lovely pictures on Facebook the next day made me think about our wedding, which wasn't even a year ago, but it seems so distant at this point.

I'm sure everyone says this, but I absolutely loved my wedding. Of course, there were a few things I might change if I had it to do all over again, but for the most part, it was a great experience. The decision to have a destination wedding (we got married in Disney World) was certainly the best one we could have made. It was relatively small, and it was kind of like going on vacation with our friends, not just one big night that ended too quickly.

When I look at my wedding pictures, I can't stop smiling. Not because they are so amazing or anything, but because I remember how certain and happy I was to be there, looking into the face of my amazing husband, throwing a big party for the people we love, and beginning a new chapter of my life.

And now it's a year later with another chapter about to begin. 43 days.

Anxiously awaiting...

So I've entered into a new anxious phase of pregnancy. It has nothing to do with the labor itself, I'm totally over that. And I'm not concerned about handling motherhood -- I have pretty much resigned myself to at least a few months of complete chaos. I am just really anxious to see my little girl and know I took good care of her for 10 months.

Of course, the what-ifs are starting as I think about all the things I did or didn't give up throughout this pregnancy. Like coffee and artificial sweetener - cut back but didn't give up. Or spinning - yeah, still going eventhough people look at me in horror. I even had a couple swallows of wine here and there (horrors!) which everyone says is fine in the third trimester, but still... I worry that the sacrifices and changes I made were too small, that I tried too hard to selfishly maintain normalcy and now my baby is going to come out with gills and it's going to be All. My. Fault.

We also ignored every superstition and Jewish custom and bought EVERYTHING in advance, starting when I was just a couple months along. Granted, I don't buy into the belief that somehow planning ahead dooms your child to disaster, but what-if...

The Great Pumpkin!

Halloween is a holiday for two groups of people - those who can get drunk in their fun/slutty/clever costumes and those who have small children. This year, we fell into neither category, so it was a fairly uneventful day. I made pumpkin cupcakes for a friend's pre-party gathering and we went to her apartment to hang out for a little while before they headed to a big event somewhere. We were home by 11 - and I was totally OK with this.

The next day, we picked up a deeply discounted costume for the little one to wear for Purim (that's like Jewish Halloween, for those unfamiliar with the concept) and completed our list of "Things to Buy Before the Baby Comes" a little bit early. Weeks early. I can't help it, I find preparation to be profoundly calming, even when I know I'm being a little crazy.

Oh and in case anyone is interested in making pumpkin cupcakes, I found the recipe via Photograzing on Serious Eats. I made them exactly as instructed with the exception of the fresh ginger. I also used just a basic vanilla vegan buttercream frosting, just because it's easy to pipe and it stays put when being transported long distances on the subway. They turned out beautifully moist and pumpkin-y, and of course, Sam's piping skills made them look pretty good too.
49 days until my due date. Not that I'm counting or anything.

"How are you feeling?"

When you're pregnant, I'm pretty sure you get asked this question 300 times a day. And if I can be perfectly frank, the honest answer is...I've definitely been better, but I'll live. That's how I've felt for the last 8 months and how I expect to feel for at least 2 more (yes, for the blissfully unaware, pregnancy is 40 weeks = 10 months). All of these people who tell me they LOVED being pregnant, that it was magical and fantastic and absolutely the best time ever are completely nuts as far as I can tell.

But yes, I realize it could be much much worse, and I really have only the most common of complaints to recite when asked. True, I was nauseated by most smells and all public transportation for close to 5 months, but I didn't puke every morning and weird Chinese ginger candy allowed me to make it to work every day. And yes, the glucose tolerance test rivaled the worst hangovers of my youth and my last anatomy ultrasound left me feeling like I'd been punched in the belly by a prizefighter, but the results were all boringly normal. And of course, my back is starting to hurt and I can't sleep through the night anymore, but I'm still able to go to the gym 5 days a week and I can usually fall back asleep on the couch. I am endlessly thankful that the words "bed rest" have never been uttered by my doctor, that I can spend time with my friends and do laundry and ride the subway, and that for the most part, other than being noticeably more three-dimensional, I haven't really had to change that much. My heart truly goes out to all the women who sacrifice any semblance of a normal life for close to a year in order to have a healthy baby.

I don't remember ever considering how demanding incubating a living thing for so long would actually be. If I had known then what I know now, would I have waited a little longer before charging headlong into motherhood? Would I have demanded a blood oath from Sam that I would be exempt from household chores and civil behavior for the duration? Would I have finished my Masters program and cleared my calendar before tossing away that trusty package of birth control? Honestly, I don't know. It's all supposed to be worth it, or so I hear. I'll just try to focus on that for now.

Countdown

I am a failed blogger. I've tried so many times and for so many reasons, yet I've never managed to successfully create and maintain a blog that I was willing to share with anyone who knows my first name. And I guess the only reason I can really point to is that I find it hard to believe anyone might be interested in what I have to say.

So why now? Well, for the first time in my 30 years, I think I'm finally about to have something going on that people who know me might want to see or readabout -- a little girl. And just as much for the people we care about far away who can check in and see how things are going without piecing together bits of information from Facebook status updates, I want to do this for us and for her. It's so easy to forget the little things, particularly for people like Sam and I, and I just hope committing some of them to virtual paper will make me more mindful and appreciative of these lesser-known moments of our lives.

The Countdown to the Baby Girl begins here - 8 weeks to go, assuming she's as punctual as her mom.