Aug 12

Lilith’s birth story

Tuesday and Wednesday nights (the nights of the 24th and the 25th), at around 8 pm, I started having contractions that would pick up in intensity and frequency through the night, coming as infrequently as 20-30 minutes apart and as close together as 8-10 minutes apart. I tried to sleep but had two largely sleepless nights, kept awake by pain and excitement (weird how these two go together in the case of childbirth!). Each morning (Wednesday the 25th and Thursday the 26th), the contractions would dwindle to near-nothingness, just an every so often twinge, with some period-like cramping and occasional bloody show and mucus. It seemed like it had to be close and yet….I didn’t want to get my hopes up too much. I knew that this could go on for quite a while. I had a much-needed nap on Thursday. I also baked a chocolate cake (for Adam’s Friday the 27th birthday). I just had a feeling like I might not be able to get to it on Friday (and I was right!).

Thursday night (the evening of the 26th), my contractions, which had slowed to a near halt during the majority of the day, picked up again. I remember having to leave the dinner table a few times to go have painful contractions in our bedroom (felt uncomfortable and weird to just sit there at the table through them!). By the time Anna was going to bed (8ish) I was feeling that this was probably it. I tried taking a bath but this seemed to make contractions pick up even more frequently and painfully. Anna came to see me as I lay in her bathtub trying to get some relief. She was so sweet, bringing me a wet washcloth to wipe my face and caressing my arm, cooing “It’s ok, Mommy.” Such a sweet girl. We had a bit of a hard time convincing Anna to go to bed. She wanted to stay awake and be with me. Eventually she settled down to bed and sleep.

After my bath, I tried laying down on the couch to get some rest while Adam watched Top Gear on TV. I just shut my eyes and catnapped, being awoken every 10 minutes or so with extremely painful (as in loud, uncontrollable moans of pain) contractions. Just as with Anna, these contractions started out like very painful menstrual cramps that resolved into tightening that went through my middle and down my legs–the worst of the pain was actually in my thighs rather than in my front. Eventually I didn’t want to be in the living room anymore. I started getting the shakes (felt absolutely freezing cold!) and for the duration of my labor I alternated between freezing cold with chattering teeth and feeling boiling, sweaty hot. I went back to the bathtub but, again, this seemed to almost make things worse, not better. I think Adam called Dawn (our midwife) at this point. It was maybe around 10 pm, I think. I eventually got out of the tub, got a nightgown on and tried laying down in bed. Again, I tried to nap, but kept getting woken up by contractions. They were coming faster together and were (unbelievably) even more painful. Adam stayed with me from this point on. Around midnight he called my mom, who came over to help. Dawn showed up around 12:30 or so (he must have called her but I don’t remember him doing so). Adam and mom helped me to put on some socks (during one of my teeth chattering cold episodes) and I tried sitting on the birth ball. It helped a bit, in one way, relieving some of the pain of contractions, but I remember remarking on how it felt like the baby’s head was coming out of my rectum–that’s how low she was at this point! I remember the relief I felt when Dawn the midwife came. Even though I appreciated so much having Carol, my mother-in-law, Adam, and my own mother present during my labor, it was Dawn who really helped me to focus by talking gently and calmly to me. She checked me when she first arrived and I was at an “easy 5, stretchy 6.” I wasn’t sure whether I should feel encouraged or not by this, but she reminded me of how it had been with Anna (I had been contracting for about 24 hours and had only gotten to a 2-3 at that point so this was remarkably faster!).

During this time they were working on filling our gigantic tub in the master bathroom. It took two full tanks from the water heater, plus some kettles and pots of hot water from the stove. I got in (this took a while because simply walking from bedroom to bath I had to pause several times for really painful contractions). My thoughts during this time? I don’t even know. I feel like I was in some kind of animalistic state, reduced down to pain and lack of pain and when it would be over. The waves of pain were coming so frequently that I had moments of pure panic, of pure “this will never end” panic. My team helped pull me through. “You ARE doing this” they would remind me.

I labored in the tub, moaning loudly. Dawn reminded me to keep the noises low (especially during the times I would crescendo to a shriek) and to think of opening, of helping my baby down. Mom supported me from behind so that I didn’t slip too much down into the tub (it was hard to hold on). Adam laid down next to the tub, giving me his fingers to squeeze. At one point I realized I heard snoring (!) and I turned around, angry that he was sleeping while I was going through the worst pain of my life, and flicked water on him until he woke up, bleary-eyed, on the tile floor. It’s funny in hindsight, but I was mad at the time!

Contractions were coming closer and closer and were getting more and more intense. I started to go into panic mode (knowing that it was probably transition and yet still having those thoughts of “this will never, ever end” and “I absolutely cannot do this”). At some point, my moans turned into a low growl. Dawn asked me, “Are you pushing?” “Yes!” I said, “I think I am!” I think it was around this time that Carol went to wake Anna up so that she could be there for the birth. Adam got on some swim trunks and got into the water with me, to support my legs.

It was both exhilarating (because I knew that this meant that it would soon be over) and terrifying (because I knew that this would be the height of it, the climax of the birth). I pushed and Dawn encouraged me to feel the head coming down. She had been monitoring baby’s heartbeat and had felt for herself that baby was low, low, low. It felt weird, wrinkly. “Are you SURE that that is the baby?” I asked. I was reassured that it was, and that the sack of waters was right there, bulging out. I felt again, and, sure enough, I could feel it. Suddenly, on the next push, I felt a POP and the waters broke. It was just a few more pushes, where I could feel the head coming out, then back in between contractions, then out again, until I eased out Baby’s head. I supported my tissues so that I could stretch around her. I definitely felt that Ring of Fire! It’s a little scary, that moment of knowing that something that BIG is coming through a space that seems so little. It seems impossible!

Out came the head. Dawn asked me to stop for a minute, as she reached down and felt for cord and unwrapped it, once, then twice. “Ok,” she said, “push out the rest of your baby!” It felt more difficult than I thought it would be to push out the rest of Baby’s body–I remember Anna’s birth as her head followed easily by the rest of her slippery body but this took another effort like the head to push baby’s shoulders and torso through. With a might roar I pushed her out. A picture of Anna taken just before this shows her covering her ears with her two stuffed animals (to drown out the sound of my roaring, I presume!). Dawn lifted Baby’s body up out of the water and onto my chest. There is no other moment in life, for me, that is as simply wonderful as the moment of first laying eyes on my babies. I cried and smiled and talked nonstop, “I did it! I can’t believe I did it!” It was 3:50 am, July 27th. Adam and Lilith now shared a birthday!

Everyone crowded around for a look. I opened baby’s legs up while I turned to ask Anna, “is it a girl or a boy?” “A GIRL!” Anna squealed. And, yes, indeed, there was Anna’s baby sister, my second daughter. We covered her up with some warm washcloths and a hat as I lay in the tub and drank in the sight of her, waiting for the placenta to be delivered. She looked a little purple to me but was alert and, I swear to you!, this girl was smiling from the first. Looking around at all the wonderful people in that room and smiling! Amazing. I stroked her little body, admired her features. What a moment.

Eventually the placenta was delivered and after the cord stopped pulsing we asked Anna if she wanted to help cut the cord. NO. No, she did not. She was squeamish about it, so Adam did the honors. We got out of the tub got a little cleaned up (not that there was much to clean up, having been in the bathtub. Very tidy for a birth to be in the tub!) and got into bed. Baby girl got checked all over and weighed and measured. Seven pounds, 8 ounces and 20 and 3/4 inches long. More than a pound bigger than her big sister was at birth! She got feetprint taken and we discussed her name. We already had the Lilith (nickname Lily; Anna chose this during my pregnancy when we were discussing names and Adam and I had agreed that we liked it), but hadn’t decided on the middle name until that very moment. We went with Charlotte because….well, because we’ve been reading Charlotte’s Web and it’s a pretty name. No other deep significance but we liked it!

We got to snuggle in bed and I let her try to crawl up my chest to latch on. With a little help, she did. Then we all got tucked into bed–by now the sun was rising. Lilith was awake, looking around. Anna was restless, wanting to constantly touch and stroke and talk to her baby sister. She was (and still is) over the moon to have a baby sister. Adam snored immediately. I dozed, on and off, until Anna’s plaintive requests for breakfast could no longer be ignored. Adam got up, sleepy-eyed, and said he would take Anna out for breakfast so I could get some rest. What a birthday morning for him!

I am just so thrilled to be the Mama to TWO precious girls. I can’t believe my luck, my good fortune, to have these beautiful people in my life. I can’t wait to watch Lily grow and mature into the person that she will be. As for Anna, she’s the sweetest big sister one could hope for, always kissing and petting and talking to her Lily. Melts my heart! Adam is one proud Daddy, even if he is totally and completely outnumbered by all his girls.

Jul 12

So this is what it feels like to be one day away from my due date

Happy Day Before My Due Date to Me!

Two nights of contractions that fizzle out when the sun rises have left me not so sure that this whole baby thing is such a good idea. I mean, the Baby will be pretty cool. It’s the whole getting-the-baby-out part that has me a little nervous. Although intermittent and with a good amount of rest between each contraction, I’m still reminded of what I had forgotten (gotta love the childbirth amnesia effect) directly after Anna was born, nearly 6 six years ago: this sh*t hurts.

I’m eager, anxious, and trying to remain calm. Yesterday evening I vacuumed the entire house and then mopped the kitchen and dining room, prompting Adam to exclaim, “Looks like you’re going to have the baby tonight!” (Note: this did not happen). Today I am changing the sheets on the bed. I’m flirting with the idea of cleaning the bathrooms but every time I double over in pain I think to myself, “self, maybe I should just rest,” so instead I am sitting in front of my computer pretending that “doing laundry” is active work, though the machine, truth be told, is actually the one doing the activity. I’m just listening in.

Maybe this Baby wants to share a birthday with his or her Daddy? Adam’s birthday is tomorrow. Tomorrow has a nice ring. Close enough that I can nearly touch it, but far enough away that I can rest for the moment.

I’m nervous. I think know I can do this, the birthing of a baby, because I’ve done it before and I will do it again, but it’s a daunting task. It’s hard work. It’s a game changer.

Anna has been a bit angry lately–she can’t verbalize why but I am pretty sure that it is Baby related. Her world is about to change, to fall apart and then be rebuilt. Alternating with this anger, though, is a sweet joy, an excited cheerfulness. “I can’t wait for the baby to be born!” she says.

We are ready (well, ready as we’ll ever be).

I’m trying to keep this mindset: relax, calm, open. Embrace and ride the waves. Focus on sweet baby toes and nose and chin and curled up baby body. We can’t wait to meet you, Baby.

Jul 12

36+ weeks pregnant

Adam claims that my morning sickness is getting better but I just think that I am getting smarter about what I attempt to eat. I am eating the blandest diet ever, but at least my weight is holding steady at this point. My usual foods: white french bread (NO whole wheat or whole grains or anything like that), white cheeses (Monterey Jack and I am having a love affair with those round Babybel cheeses that come wrapped in red wax–NOM NOM MUST EAT), glasses of MILK (?!??! haven’t done that since I was a kid), SOME fruits (cherries = ok; dried fruits = mostly ok; apples, raspberries and blueberries = from the DEVIL), baked russet potatoes, plain cornbread, Trader Joe’s plain tart frozen yogurt (but only specifically this brand), and homemade shortbread cookies (NO vanilla, just the plain ol’ recipe made with butter, sugar, salt, and flour). That’s pretty much it.

My sister had her beautiful baby girl, Marley, last week…..and her due date was only 10 days before mine so that has really given me a kick in the pants. I’m only about 3 weeks and a couple of days away from my due date and, if this baby comes a little early like Anna did, I’m only really a matter of days away from the Big Day. The day that Marley was born found me frantically ordering stuff from Amazon (crib, crib mattress, carseat, burp cloths, etc). Must. Nest. Now. !!!!

My 36th birthday is this Friday (I’ll be 37 weeks that day–full term!). I don’t feel down at all about getting older. I love it, actually. Bring it on! This is going to be a good month and a good year all ’round. I am starting to get more and more anxious (in a good way….mostly….) about meeting Baby–who is he or she? Boy or girl? What will his/her personality be like? Who will s/he look like? I’m having lots of dreams. My favorite recurring dream is about a peaceful and beautiful birth. I don’t know if this is wishful thinking or a manifestation of all the meditation I’ve been doing throughout this pregnancy but I love it and I don’t believe it can hurt to put positive energy into envisioning things in that way. The moment of Anna’s birth is seared into my mind as the very most powerful single moment in my life and I cannot wait for the absolute wonder of the moment that a baby (a BABY! A PERSON!) comes out of my body and into the world. It’s a miracle.

I’m obsessing a little bit about minor things (window coverings for all the bedrooms as we took them down after painting and couldn’t bear to put them back up–they were all so old and decrepit!–and now we need new ones and AAAAHHHH!!!) but, on the whole, I know that things will fall into place. We have a roof over our heads, food to eat (as repulsive as I find eating at the moment I don’t believe that Baby or I am going to be permanently nutritionally deprived in the long run), love in our hearts, and all manner of unnecessary luxuries as well. I feel especially lucky to have a swimming pool right outside my bedroom. We’ve been swimming Every Single Day and I love it. Nothing like floating weightless when one is carrying a big ol’ baby belly around.

As much as the food thing sucks, I’m also lucky enough to have been able to walk 3-5 miles a day for the entirety of this pregnancy. I may not be able to make it to prenatal yoga class (the class timing sucks for us–it’s right at dinner time) but at least I can get out there and breathe the fresh air and move my legs. That’s gotta count for something, right?

Anna’s behavior has been extra super challenging this last week or more. I’m worried that at least some of it has to do with the ways in which our family is getting ready to change. I’v been trying to give her extra attention, but this is wearying as she is not in school (and doesn’t have camp until next week) and I am really with her 24/7. Not much downtime for me. I love the little lady but am hoping that these temper tantrums cease, and soon. We’re trying to ensure that she gets the sleep she needs but our little night owl is often up late (regardless of what time we put her in bed) and up with the birds (hence my haste to put up window coverings in HER room as I think that the early sunrise isn’t helping this). But, as challenging as she has been, she also has had many, many moments lately of being purely delightful, of being helpful and smart and amazing. She swims like a fish (can dive ALL the way down to the bottom of our 9 foot deep swimming pool!), can sound out and spell many words, draws pictures and writes books and puts on plays and dresses up like a princess and tells me many times a day how much she loves me.

July. Here we are!

Jun 12

Whiny whine whine

I haven’t blogged since Tuesday because I every time I think about what I would write about, it sounds so incredibly whiny in my head and GOD don’t you just hate whiny people? I am annoying myself.

Let’s start with something positive. I am a beautiful goddess of a woman in full bloom, carrying a baby child to full term. I am nurturing a living human being in my body. I am ecstatic at the thought of holding a tiny, snuggly little wiggle worm in my arms, of wrapping a small body in a swaddling blanket, of clothing a wee munchkin in wee adorable clothes and teensy tiny baby socks (I bought some baby socks yesterday and SQUEAL! they are they cutest most adorablest things ever in the world SO TINY!) but probably one of the biggest reasons that I am so so so so so anxiously excited to meet this baby I’m lugging around like a heavy, weighted basketball (maybe more like a medicine ball?) stapled to my belly (oops, see, whiny? Sorry, it just slipped out) is that OHMYGOD I am so sick. So so so so so so sick. Like first trimester morning sickness but actually kind of worse because of this most bizarre phantom smell and taste thing that follows me around, all day and all night. I am hungry, but I am sick. This is the time where I am supposed to be allowed to gorge myself on delicious food items, right? Now, at the very end where I can just throw caution to the wind, thank goodness for breastfeeding being a fantastic calorie burner for afterwards, and tell myself and everyone else that I’m just helping Baby to “beef up!!!” Alas, sadly, not so much. Instead (sorry, major whine ahead), all day long, I walk around with bile rising up into my mouth, starving and unhappy. When I succumb to food (Must! Eat! So! Hungry!) it is all so disgusting that I’m not sure that it’s much better (nausea is no better, that’s for sure) but I know I do have to eat. At first bland foods were ok but now it is every single food item known to man. And even some items that are not edible (not that I would eat them), but everything seems to have a noxious smell, some things more strongly smelling than others (shampoo, soap, toothpaste, flowers, etc). This is atrocious and no good way to live.

Thursday I was feeling particularly depressed about this. It is so bizarre to obtain absolutely no pleasure from food. Even when we aren’t necessarily thinking about, I realize now, even when we think we are just eating “because we are hungry,” there is an element of hedonistic delight in savoring morsels of food. The flavors (sweet, salty, and all the rest) delighting our mouth. Right now, everything tastes to me like rancid oil or spoiled meat or something else that should most definitely NOT be put in the mouth. I am constantly asking Adam or Anna, “are you sure this food is ok? Does it smell/taste ok to you?” because it goes against my inner biology to put food that tastes this nasty into my body–it feels worrisome, like it will hurt me, cause me to vomit. They both look at me, wide-eyed. “It’s fine!” the assure me. I’m still suspicious.

I’m struggling here. I want Baby to stay in as long as s/he needs to, in order that Baby grows strong and big enough but I am so anxious for this food thing to resolve. I’m miserable.

I’m happy to be pregnant. I’m excited to have this Baby. But, DAMN, I just feel so awful.

Sorry for the whine. That’s just how it is around here right now, I guess.

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

My doctor and my midwives tell me to just eat whatever I am able to stomach. To eat a protein smoothie for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if I have to. I’m trying.

I’m 35 weeks pregnant. Only five more weeks until my due date. Only two more weeks until I am full term. I delivered Anna at 38 weeks and a couple of days (2 or 3?) so I am kind of hoping in my head that that means that I won’t have to go another full five weeks or more. Three I suppose I can handle (???? can I????? Well, it sounds better than five plus, I suppose).

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. Breathe in (ugh, there’s that smell again), breathe out (try not to vomit into my mouth). I can do this. I am a brave, glorious goddess.

Jun 12

Food Aversions

I’ve had cravings during this pregnancy–nothing too off-the-wall crazy but I’ll just get it in my head that I absolutely NEED to eat meatballs from Petrini’s or whatever–but this new pregnancy food thing I’ve got going on is really weird. I don’t remember having this at all when pregnant with Anna (except for first trimester food aversions, but that was a general nausea kind of a thing, not so specific as this time round, and certainly not so late in the game).

For whatever reason, I cannot stand the taste, the smell, the sight, nay, even the idea of peanuts butter. Or roasted peanuts. Or things that, though seemingly unrelated, still bear some kind resemblance to peanut butter/roasted peanuts. Things that have a (at least to my crazy super sensitive sniffer) a whiff of a slight smell that sort of seems “peanut-ish.” Today that included chocolate ice cream (roasted cacao beans, perhaps?), chocolate chip cookies (that I made myself, just my standard recipe, nothing crazy in them and definitely no peanuts or peanut butter!), and roasted garlic (??????).

I’ll be walking around somewhere and I’ll catch the scent and it is enough to have me dry heaving and wishing for escape. I am having nightmares of the smell. I keep trying to force myself to eat bites of things but the moment it hits my mouth it is like it tastes…rancid or something. It definitely does not taste remotely like anything that I would like to eat or swallow.

Will this go away? I sure hope so because it is kind of a downer when I can’t even fix my child a peanut butter and jelly sandwich without holding my breath and trying not to look. I’ve never in my life felt so strongly anti-food as right now. I’m one of the least picky eaters that I know–I seriously will eat (at least try anything and I’ll even eat foods that aren’t necessarily my favorite, such as eggplant and raw oysters, just because they are there), so this is just plain weird.

I’m hoping that this will pass after baby is delivered, that it is some bizarre hormonal thing that will resolve after the birth because the alternative is just….shudder…I can’t fathom a world in which this smell will continue to haunt me the rest of my life. That’s just not right. Stupid peanuts.

May 12

27 weeks + 5 days

Adam and I took the baby out to dinner and a reading by David Sedaris at the Arlington tonight. I’m not sure if it was all the audience (and Mama) laughter or the big dinner, but Baby was jumping all over the place. I am starting to feel like I am hauling around a (very bouncy) bowling ball attached to my front. And I love it.

Apr 12

The very very best thing in the world

(Well, besides hearing your child say, “I love you”)? Baby kicks and rolls and punches from inside. Such a crazy, insane thing to feel. Anna finally felt the first kicks yesterday, with her hand on my belly, but remained unimpressed (is THAT all?!?!? was her general attitude), but, as the one inside of whom this baby dwells, I have to tell you that I think it is the awesome thing ever. And now that I’m feeling it every day, all day (well, not ALL day, there are breaks in between, but it is very frequent), I’m still not sick of it yet. I’ve been known to stop whatever I’m doing and stand there, like an idiot, with a smile on my face. I’m connecting. It starts now. And what I want this baby to know, above all else, is how incredible this is, how I thought this would never, ever happen. You know what? I’ve had two pregnancies now that I felt that way through, Anna’s and this one. Anna’s because after my miscarriages I was starting to lose hope, this one because after chemo I was coming to terms with this being the end of my childbearing time. To have this? Now? A miracle, that’s what it is. It’s the best thing ever.

Mar 12

Spring Break

Spring Break, week 1 (Anna has two weeks off). Friday. Anna is sitting on the couch, in her pajamas, watching Yo Gabba Gabba. It is 11 o’clock in the morning. I’ve decided that this is ok.

I’ve mostly decided that this is okay because I just now got out of the bathtub. We’ve spent our morning, thus far, eating a leisurely breakfast, doing prenatal yoga together (if there is something cuter than Anna doing cat/cow and downward facing dog, I haven’t encountered it yet), then Anna started watching a video while I took a long, lazy bath.

My sleep has been crap lately. C-R-A-P. I’m pretty much only getting a halfway decent sleep every other night or so. And even those nights are kind of hit or miss. There is something that is not good for my morale when I am wandering the house at 3 am, cursing my lack of sleep, thinking of how, pretty darn soon, I will probably be awake at this time but that will be because of a baby. And not just because I was too congested/my back hurt/my mind is full/I got hungry/I’m uncomfortable/etc. Well, I guess most of these things are because of a baby, but somehow it is different. Like, quieter, with less crying (me *and* baby, and yes, I did cry in Anna’s early days and they are not so far gone that I haven’t forgotten how hard it was).

I am bouncing between excitement and absolute terror. Oh, for the joy of that first moment of meeting one’s baby! Those crazy milk-drunk faces, those pursed lips and those tiny flailing limbs! How precious! And how frightening! To be responsible for one of those again? Am I up to the challenge?

I have no doubts that I will love this baby. I will love this baby HARD. I will love this baby COMPLETELY and FULLY and with so much love that it will hurt. I know this.

I also know that, most likely, there will be so many challenges up ahead. I’ve got what it takes, right? Time to psyche myself up.

Mar 12


I haven’t blogged in days because I have been working on this one post that I just can’t seem to get right. I’ve written more than 5 drafts and it just won’t flow. I give up. I wanted to write about body image in pregnancy and the mixture of emotions that come along with watching your waistline disappear but it just made me sound vain or like I don’t enjoy being pregnant and that is not my intent at all. Just something I’ve been thinking about as I’ve had to fold up and put away even some of my early maternity clothes (jeans purchased at 13 weeks are now too tight in the hips! so…goodbye to those). Anyway. How about a funny story to get back into the swing of things?

Anna and I were driving to school in the morning last week. The radio was on. I had it on what I thought was the “safe station” (e.g., no raunchy morning DJs). An advertisement came on for the Chumash Casino in Santa Ynez, which is hosting a couple of big name comedians. One of the comedians says, “Marriage sure does change after the kids are born. What’s the deal with sex after children, anyway?” and I quickly turn down the volume.

Anna says, “Mommy? Why did that guy say ‘sex with children?'”

Me (internally thinking, uh oh, gotta correct this, but oh, crap, we’re like 60 seconds away from the car lineup and her teacher is going to open the car door in a a minute and she needs a quick explanation and correction so she doesn’t go into sharing at circle time today saying her mommy was listening to the radio about sex with children. Gulp.) “NO! No no no no no. He didn’t say sex with children, he said sex after children!” Nervous laughter.

Anna waits a beat then says, “Oh.”

I looked back at her in the rearview mirror and see her puzzled look. Hmmm. “Do you, umm, do you know what sex is, sweetheart?”

“Ummmmmmm” (like she is honestly and truly thinking about it, riffling through her mind to come up with an answer, “Ummm….nnoooo?”

And at this point we are literally about to pull into the spot where the teachers are waiting to get the kids out of the car and I have like 10 seconds so I just say, “It’s how babies are made, ok?!” And I smiled a reassuring smile, thinking to myself, “This conversation will definitely have to be revisited, because this is inadequate.”

Anna is distracted by the teachers, by her fellow classmates, by making sure she has her lunchbox ready. Anna looks at me shrugs and says, “Ok.” Like, no big deal, Mom.

Wellllll….alrighty, then.

One would think that a mother’s pregnancy would lead a child of this age to be asking more questions about how did that baby get in there, anyway? but this does not appear to be the case with my child, who instead worries almost endlessly about how the baby is going to come out. I’m not sure if it would be the same if I had a boy child, as Anna seems concerned that the vagina is not really such a great place for a baby to come out of. She has one of those and she cannot fathom the thought of a BABY coming out of there.

“But….how does it get big enough? Does it hurt? Is there blood? How much blood? Like, a lot of blood? Will you cry? Won’t your vagina hurt?”

And on and on and on.

But absolutely no questions about how baby got IN there in the first damn place. I’m letting her take the lead on this one. I answer her questions (“It’s very stretchy. Yes, it hurts. Yes, there is blood. Well, some blood. So that afterwards there is some cleanup and the woman has to wear a pad like during menstruation. I might. Yes it will but it is all entirely better and wonderful when that precious baby is in your arms!”) because we are thinking of having her be present for the birth of her sibling (she has expressed interest and we are planning a home birth so this is a possibility. It is also a possibility that it will be too much for her, in which case she will get to go visit a friend or hang out with a grandparent or whatever. It’ll all work itself out.

Just as long as she doesn’t start asking more questions about “sex with children.” Geesh. That one I just couldn’t let go. (Eek).

Mar 12

Halfway there

20 weeks down, 20 weeks to go. Whoa.