The Bump

It doesn't resemble a bump anymore as much a beach ball, but by request from Megan, here is a belly shot taken about 2 weeks ago.

I still need to get one with Sebastian, and I guess I'd better get on it with only 10 days left at the most!

Here are a few taken from when I was pregnant the first time around, just a few days before I delivered.  Should've had them done a month or two earlier, but at least there were a couple that didn't make me look like a beached whale...

The reason I'm sharing them is that I think my belly looks pretty similar (except for the upside down baby factor), so if the old wives' tales are correct, this is another boy.  If it's a myth, then we're back to guessing!

Why we have kids

You wanna go hide?  my son asks.  {Note:  he has his pronouns reversed, so when he says 'you' he means himself and 'I' usually means me, the mama.}

Ok, go hide, I tell him.  He runs off to the other side of the backyard.

One, two, three... I begin counting.

Four, five!  I hear the small voice say.  Then, You better not, here I come!

Ready or not, here I come, I agree.  Where is Sebastian?  Is he under the water table?  No...  Is he behind the blue slide?

No... comes the small voice.  My mom and I look at each other and start laughing.

Is he... on the patio?  Yes, there he is!!

I found you!  he giggles, then gives me a hug.  You wanna go hide again?  You go hide behind Gramma's chair!  he shouts as he dashes away to the hiding spot he has just named.

Laughing, I begin counting again.

As my mom says, it's certainly not for toilet training, temper tantrums, or massive sleep deprivation that we have kids.  It's for moments like these, when that little voice says the unexpected and makes us laugh so hard we have to pause in our game.  It's for that giggle and that hug and that sweet smile we get when we're doing something right.

And so we can keep playing hide-and-seek even after we grow up.

The Date

In 14 days, Sebastian will be a big brother.

The baby is still breech, so our c-section has been scheduled.  It may happen sooner, but at this point, the end date is July 10th.

If it happens that way, my babies will be two years and two days apart.  Their birthdays will be 7/8/8 and 7/10/10.

Still hoping for a flip and for this munchkin to choose his or her own birthday, but am making my peace with it.  And having a light at the end of the pregnancy tunnel is nothing to sneeze at.  How do those women who are two weeks overdue stand it?

So.  14 days.  Today we celebrate Sebastian's birthday (2 weeks early) and soak up the joy of having been parents for the past two years.

I wonder what the next 12 days will bring.

And after that, we're on a whole new ride.

What is it about trains?

There is something magical about trains.  I don't quite understand it, even if I can feel it.  My almost-two-year old has train fever, too, memorizing books like Chugga Chugga Choo Choo and Hey, Mr. Choo Choo, not to mention the dully-titled but wonderful Trains by Byron Barton.

Since the daddy loves to play with SP's train set with him and build cool layouts for him to try, I leapt at the chance offered by my friend to reserve tickets on the Mount Rainier Scenic Railroad for Father's Day.  It was rainy and cool, and therefore not as scenic as one would hope, but we had a great time anyway.

This is my first time making a Picasa collage!  Click on it to see it larger.

*Yes, I know he looks like a GAP ad.  It's a little embarrassing, but a) the hoodie is so soft and wonderful I could not resist it and b) his buddy B is wearing one, too.  And we all know that being like everyone else makes it all right.

My love-hate relationship

Information.  Entertainment.  Distraction.  Advice.  Support.  Connection.

No, I'm not talking about my husband, my sister, or anyone else.  I'm talking about the internet.

It's incredible how much it has changed our lives, and how much it hasn't.  It has enabled us to find information at the click of a button (or several), yet hasn't eliminated libraries or bookstores.  We can watch movies streamed instantly from Netflix, but our favorite date night is going to a movie at a real theatre (with popcorn, Nibs, and Raisinets).   It allows us to share photos and videos in a snap with our family, meet people online, and stay in touch with our friends with unprecedented ease, but is in no way a substitute for having people here.

However, none of those limitations can cause me to quite hate the internet with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns as much as trying to get information about pregnancy, childbirth, and motherhood.  I mean, really:  What is wrong with some of these people?

As you can imagine from my last post about this crazy breech baby of mine, I have spent countless sleepless hours on the internet trying to find out more about all of this.  It seemed like it happened so suddenly that I wasn't nearly able to ask the two doctors I saw on Thursday all of the questions that are now in my head.  Some of them weren't even formed until I started doing the online digging.

Lest you ever need information about breech babies, let me summarize what I was able to find out.  First, the useful stuff, backed up by respectable sites:

*There's always a chance the baby will flip over, even after labor begins, but it's really unlikely after 37 weeks.
*Breech babies are typically in one of three positions (no, I don't know which one mine is in).  The most common - the frank breech - is the best candidate for avoiding a c-section if you have a caregiver skilled in this type of delivery.
*Since the (controversial) Term-Breech Study released in 2000 (I think), most breech babies of any kind are delivered by c-section, so chances of finding aforementioned skilled caregiver are slim.
*No one is entirely sure why 3% or so of babies are breech, but the risk is higher if you have had a baby already (yes), are pregnant with multiples (no), have low amniotic fluid (no), have placenta previa (no), have a low-lying placenta (yes), or have a baby with some kind of birth defect (we hope not).
*There is medical procedure we could try called an external version, but it is only successful about 60% of the time and could result in enough stress for the baby to warrant an emergency c-section (and our particular situation makes it less likely to be successful given the positioning of the baby and placenta).

Then there is some information with limited scientific research, but could be helpful:

*You can turn the baby by spending time more or less sitting or lying upside down.  This can put the baby in a good position to do a somersault when you return to upright position. (yes, I'm trying it.)
*Some chiropractic and acupuncture techniques may be effective in turning breech babies. (no, thank you.)

And then the masses begin spouting off their unfounded opinions...

*It's the mother's fault if the baby is breech because she is probably a busy, distracted mother who is "out of tune" with her body and her baby.  If she gets back in tune, the baby will get into head-down position.
*Burning a particular chemical called moxa in a cigar near your pinky toe can cause the baby to flip.  It's called moxibustion.  I swear I did not make this up, and I found it on many, many sites.
*Doctors do c-sections for breech births because they want to medicalize your pregnancy and schedule your birth for their own convenience.
*Breech babies are the result of the "couch-potato culture" we have here.  In places where women have better posture and squatting is common, breech births are "practically unheard of."

There is more, SO MUCH MORE, but you get the idea.  Really, for someone who loves the idea of pregnancy and childbirth being a natural, nonmedicalized process, I was most disgusted with some of those sites.  They take the mind-body connection thing way too far, and telling mothers that problems with their babies are their fault is infuriating.  Because we all know that mothers have a tendency to think everything about their babies is their fault anyway.  They may think that they are empowering mothers and giving them control that those "horrible doctors" have taken away, but really they are just preying on our guilt and frustration that our situation isn't perfect.

My husband made me promise not to go back to those sites.  I think that was wise.

Meanwhile, everyone's upside-down, topsy-turvy good wishes are much appreciated around here.  There's still time for somersaulting!

Upside Down

I had planned to write today about how I finally met my New Year's Resolution goal, and how excited I am to have finally made it, even if it is halfway through the year.  But then I had an appointment with my doctor this morning that requires me to write about this, lest I keep the thoughts rattling around in my brain driving me crazy.

I went for my 36-week OB appointment.  My weight was back where it should be, thanks to that extra bowl of ice cream or two that the doctor ordered last time.  My blood pressure was fine, all that jazz.  My measurements, however, were a little small, and the doctor wasn't sure whether my baby was head down or not.  Seemed like the baby has dropped, so maybe that could account for the smaller measurement and the confusion about what was where.  Just to be on the safe side, she had me go in for an ultrasound an hour later.

As I drove to an office I'd never been to before (my regular place was too busy today), I was reasonably confident that the ultrasound would show that the baby was indeed head down, the right size, and just dropping into position.  This would be good news, and I allowed myself to feel optimistic and focus on not getting lost.

I'll skip most of the details and get right to it.

Good news:  the baby is the right size (~5 lb. 13 oz), fluid levels are good, everything points to his or her being healthy and growing normally.

Bad news:  the baby is indeed in breech position.

Fortunately I was able to approach it all pretty clinically while I was there.  My dr. had told me what the options might be depending on what the ultrasound showed, and the doctor at the ultrasound place gave me more information.  Putting it all together, the bottom line as I see it is that we're going to have to prepare to have a c-section some time in the next two and a half weeks.

Pause here for a big breath and another battle with tears that I thought I was done with.

I know lots of people have c-sections and it's nowhere near the worst-case scenario.  As I told my husband who had to get the news this morning at work, there are lots of silver linings here.  I won't be overdue, for one thing!  I'll need to have the c-section by 39 weeks at the latest.  I'll get to plan for when my sister should come to town, know what to expect (more or less), and not have to go through a 21-hour labor like I did last time.  I won't have to go through a full labor and hours of pushing only to have a c-section anyway.  We might even get to pick our little one's birthday, which is kind of cool.

But... but... well, it's just not what I wanted or imagined or was prepared for.  I will skip writing down all the reasons I am sad and just let myself feel it.  Then,  tomorrow I'll go back and reread this to remind myself of all the reasons why this might be really be good news and put the disappointment behind me.

After all, the most important thing is having a healthy baby, so we'll stay focused on that.

Sunwise

We've all heard it a hundred times at least.  You know, that variation on "Don't go to bed angry" or the more poetic "Don't let the sun set on your anger."  It sounds wise and many people tell you it is one secret to a good marriage or friendship, but really it turns out that it is completely untrue for me.

If I am upset about something, the later it gets the more I become oversensitive and irrational.  I am critical not only of whatever it is that made me mad in the first place, but about how he reacts to each thing I say in the argument. I bring up past offenses that feel similar to this one.  I point out the fact that he's tired and wants to sleep as proof that he doesn't care.  All of those fall squarely under the category of Unfair Fighting.

It's incredibly hard for me to sleep when I'm angry, and I've always thought that it made sense to talk something out, especially since most disagreements are small and seem to me like they should be able to be worked out before we go to bed.

Exhaustion due to pregnancy and parenthood, however, has more often forced me to fall asleep before an issue gets resolved, and it turns out that we are all the happier for it.  When morning rolls around, I often have let go completely of any anger toward the small stuff, and if I am still upset about some larger issue, I am calmer and more able to find a way to discuss and solve it productively.

Just goes to show you that there are few proverbs, suggestions, or tips that work for everyone.  The only trick, really, is to figure out what works for you, even if you have to kick conventional wisdom to the curb once in a while.

Count it out

When I was getting my endorsement to teach English as a Second Language, one of my professors told us that people learn languages to do things they want to do with people who speak that language.  She was trying to show us not only why students learn the practical parts of a language before the academic stuff, but also why it's so important that our kids who are learning English be connected to us and their peers.

As has happened often since I became a parent, this information came back to me in the past few weeks as suddenly Sebastian has become obsessed with learning French.   His daddy is more or less bilingual in English and French, and I learned some French in high school, but here in the states most bilingual toys are English and Spanish.  So we just figured that would be the second language he would pick up first by sheer constant exposure to his LeapFrog Learning table!  {Well, it would be his third language, I guess. We've been signing to him from a young age since my immediate family knows sign language.}  

Anyway, a few weeks back the three of us went to the library to pick out some new books, and I encouraged my husband to get some books in French since I saw they had a foreign language section.  The favorite bedtime book for the next week was a simple story called Hop, le Mouton about a sheep who gets his fleece from an angel because he gets stuck on top of a star.  We read it over and over again in French and our English translation of it.  

Then I discovered that I could keep him quiet in the waiting room at the doctor's office by doing the alphabet for him in French.  Total fascination.  Requests to sing in English and French ensued.

And now the counting.  He has listened to that Learning Table sing and count in Spanish for over a year, but give him a week of interacting with us counting in French, and he has it down (except for 8, which he mixes up with the English).  I find this incredible.  It goes along with the research that says that kids this age aren't learning much from tapes or videos unless you are sitting right there talking about it with them.  (looking for the link to the research, and will post it when I find it.)

Clearly I need to do more Spanish with him since he wants that next, but my accent is pretty terrible.   Anyone with a proper accent that wants to teach him Spanish is welcome to it (Tory, Mau, I'm looking in your direction)!  

Family-Friendly

First I have to say that I never appreciate how addicted to the internet I am until our cable modem stops working (or router or whatever other piece of hardware is the bane of my existence at the time).  In trying to rearrange our house and convert our office into a second baby's room, we moved the dratted cable modem.  This resulted in its being in and out (mostly out) for five days until we finally figured out how to fix it.  And when I say 'we,' I mean my husband fixed it when he got back from a three-day weekend trip to CT.  No matter how tech-savvy I think I've become, I am eventually humbled by some problem I need him to fix.  Sigh.  But I digress.

The point is that I can't believe how entwined my life has become with the internet, and if it hadn't been for my Crackberry, I would've been freaking out.  Or doing more chores.  Hard to say.

Ok, all of that is to say that I'm back!  And here is the story of last week's Friday Field Trip.

I decided to take Sebastian to Ikea.  I know, that doesn't seem like the most inspired field trip idea, but I really needed some cheap organizers and such for the new nursery and Ikea touts itself as being super family friendly, so I thought why not?  Here's the overview:

The Good:
~I got a ton of great stuff, all of which was under ten dollars.  Seriously, Ikea is worse than Target for luring me in to buy two things and coming out with twenty.  But it was only six dollars!  I HAD to buy it! 
~Sebastian loved the kids' section and played with all of their sample toys, tested out all of their kid-sized furniture, and was just generally pleasant to be around until... well, keep reading.

The Bad:
I spent far more money than I was intending to with my original list of two items.  But I'm returning about $30 worth that I ended up not needing, and the rest has already been put to good use, so I've decided that this could be much worse.

The Ugly:
I finished my shopping early, Sebastian was being immensely cooperative, and I thought, Why not have an early lunch here before heading home?  Why, oh why, did I not respond to myself, "Because that would be pushing your luck, lady.  Get in the car"?  Sigh.

We had lunch while other people's children zoomed around, so I was feeling pretty confident.  Then I thought Sebastian might need to zoom around a little himself so that he'd be ready to wait while I checked out and then drove us home.  I steered him to the kids' area in the restaurant where he proceeded to play until two other boys came within two feet of him.  Really, they weren't even touching him or the toys he was using, but he decided to step right up and give one of them a shove.  I was shocked, immediately corrected him, at which point I set up a really interesting game.  Since he doesn't usually behave like this, he decided to try it out again, this time reaching to shove the other boy while looking at me.  Clearly he was not angry.  This was a test.

I informed him that he could play nicely or we could leave.  He wanted to play nicely.  Ok, last chance.  It took about two minutes before he reached his chubby arms out to try to shove again (yes, looking at me again).  I picked him up to carry him out of the play area, at which point he thought it was a good plan to put his two hands on either side of my face and try to push ME away from him.  Oh. boy.

I then proceeded to stuff his screaming, thrashing self into the stroller and buckle him in, all the while telling him that I knew he was mad, but pushing is not kind and it was time for us to leave.  Once we got moving, he more or less calmed down (until we got to the car, when meltdown #2 happened).

But here's the thing.  I decided that Ikea really is family-friendly.  Know how I could tell?  Not one person even looked at me while my child pitched his enormous fit.  

I'll definitely be going back.  And coming home before lunch.

Spring forward

Last spring, just learning to walk:

This spring, learning to ride a tricycle:

How does this happen so quickly?

Doctor's Orders

I had my regular 34-week OB appointment today.  I find these appointments rather tedious now that I'm on my second pregnancy, which is proceeding more or less normally (with the weird blip of having to take the 3-hour glucose test).  In 15 minutes they weigh me, take my blood pressure, test my urine sample, measure my uterus, and listen to the heartbeat.  I used to find all of this fascinating, recording it all in a little book when I was pregnant with Sebastian.  My husband and I would sit together, ask a couple of questions, look amazed when we heard the heartbeat, and leave with smiles on our faces.

Now we have to go through a whole rigamarole of how it's going to work with watching Sebastian, trading cars, etc.  I go alone to a different and very busy (though incredibly nice) OB and ask few or no questions.  I no longer have the little book to record every bit of minutiae, and mostly I find the appointment a waste of my time.  I'm no less excited about the little Rasler's arrival than I was the first time, but these visits have definitely lost their novelty.

Today, however, when they weighed me, they discovered that I had lost 3.5 pounds over the past two weeks instead of gaining two pounds as I should have.  They chalked it up to the fact that I was sick last week, and the doctor told me she wasn't too worried.  "An extra bowl of ice cream or two should take care of it," she said with a smile.

I guess I can put up with a few more tedious doctor visits in the next six weeks if I am ordered to eat more dessert!