Labor And The Bikini Line - Do I Need To Care About This?

I'm sitting up at 3 am because I can't sleep or move. My due date is technically today, but we all know how that goes. Who knows when this baby will exit my body and I will gloriously be able to sleep on my stomach again.

As luck would have it - Knocked Up is on. As pregnancy comedies go (of which I am not a fan) this one is pretty funny. Mostly the scene where they are joking about that guys beard, but I digress.

There is a labor scene (of course) where what's-her-name is screaming and swearing (of course). One of her baby-daddy's friends walks in right when she is crowning. He is visibly disturbed and a little terrified-looking when he sees what looks to be the top of the baby's head emerging from her vagina. I became visibly disturbed and a little terrified when I saw that she has a Brazilian wax. Well, she didn't have one - this was obviously some Hollywood-prop vagina, but the prop room actually made a prop vagina with a baby emerging from it with what looked to be a Brazilian wax. Not a hair in sight.

This got me thinking. I've never had a Brazilian in my life, so I am definitely not getting one now - but, is this something I need to be thinking about, at all? I seriously can't even successfully shave my legs right now.

Help.

Can somebody please tell me how you manage to have an infant and a toddler riding in the backseat AT THE SAME TIME? This is seriously freaking me out. How do you do it? Doesn't the infant have to be facing backwards - positioned in the middle seat? And if so, how do you stop your toddler from playing with your infants face and such? And isn't the middle seat the safest spot for all kids? So, what am I supposed to do - flip a coin or something?

So, I seriously am expected to choose which of my children rides in the safest seat? What the hell?

This is the kind of stuff I am freaking out about now that I am a week away from my due date. Also, will I ever have a long shower again and since I am planning to breastfeed - precisely how long until I can have a giant margarita?

Please advise.

Mother's Day Tip...

If You Ever Wondered What Your Cat Was Thinking.

This cat diary made my morning.

Pregnancy Is Making Me Soft.

I am getting all kinds of weepy about the arrival of this next child. I'm already starting to feel nostalgic for the time that Lucien and I have had alone - is that normal? 

It may just be the pregnancy hormones making me extra sappy – but I am having a hard time dealing with the fact that it won’t just be me and my little boy anymore.
It’s been two and a half years. We’re a team. I just can’t imagine it not being that way. Obviously there are others around – his Dad a.k.a the love of my life, for one. But there is a huge chunk of the day – every day – that we have been spending alone together for over two years. It hurts my heart a little that the dynamic is about to change.

I love the fact that I have a daughter on the way. But she’s still in the theoretical phase. Theoretically, she’s mine. I’m huge. I feel her moving around. But she’s not tangible yet. She’s not staring me in the face. She’s not running into the living room when she wakes up screaming, “HI!” I find myself staring wistfully at my child, all day long, thinking about how long it will be before he has my undivided attention again.

That brings up a little bit of guilt. How is he going to react to a new baby being around? How is he going to respond to seeing me constantly holding another child? If she is anything like he was, there is going to be a lot of holding going on. He breastfed every hour and a half for 45 minutes – for about four months. Good God.

Having kids is a constant reminder of how fleeting every stage of your life is. This stage – of being a mother to only one child – is about to come to an end. He’s going to be a big brother. That seriously makes me want to cry. I find myself wondering if he will ever remember this time we had alone together. He’s not even three yet, so I’m thinking he won’t.

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God, I Wish I Could Jump On The Placenta-Eating Bandwagon.

I’m a sucker when it comes to a bargain. Seriously. I’m the person that always falls for the two-for-one deals. I almost never need two of whatever it is I am buying, but I still bite. I’m thinking this is why I have just recently begun contemplating eating my placenta after the birth of my next child. The doula I am looking into offers free placenta encapsulation as part of her service. So naturally – I should do it, right?

I may need help. Some retail therapy or something. I’m surprised I’m not one of those extreme couponers that fills her house with a bunch of shit she will never, ever use. How can I possibly be considering ingesting something that shoots out of my vagina? I know, I know – that may sound judgmental  But seriously. I’m not the kind of person that eats placenta. I’m just not.

A few years ago I was on a natural birth board. It was before my emergency c-section when I still believed everything went as planned all the time. I was totally into the concept of natural birth – the no pain meds, the water bath, the midwives – I still am to be honest. But there was always one aspect I couldn’t wrap my brain around – the placenta eating.

I get it. We’re all animals. We’re the only mammals that don’t eat our own placentas. It’s nature. Yeah. It’s also fucking weird. Eating your own organs is fucking weird. Apparently it’s really not an organ – and it actually belongs to your baby and not you (that’s what the advocates say). But it’s still weird to me.

Back to the birth board. Someone was asking whether anyone had plans to eat their placenta, which of course inspired a very predictable debate. You know, a third of us saying Um, gross another third admonishing us for being judgmental and still another third saying, to each her own. I always thought I fell into the to each her own category, heavily leaning toward trying it. Until I read a woman’s story about consuming her placenta after the birth of her child. It went something like this:

Right after the birth of my child I just reached down, grabbed it, and took a bite.

She took a bite of her placenta.

Raw.

After it had just slid out of her vagina.

Oh my god. I realized at that moment I am not that hard-core. Something about that statement just made me realize I wasn’t in the “placenta eating” group.

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And look at the hilarious slideshow my editors put together here...

I love my job.

The Best Labor Advice, Ever

I just love it when you ask someone how the hell you will know when you are in labor and they say, Oh - don't worry, you'll know.

Okay. It's going to be excruciatingly painful, yadda, yadda, yadda - but how the hell do I know when to head to the hospital? This is a question that I've never really felt has been answered - until this week when I got an email correspondence from one of my Mommyish readers. She lives in Orlando, too, and was kind enough to reach out to help me with doctor recommendations and some other mom-related stuff because I've been pretty confused since we got here.

I thought I would pass it on to any readers that may be pregnant and confused - like me. Yes, I've been through it before but the emergency C-section kind of skipped over the whole experience of labor thing.

I guess I should remind you all now that she is not a doctor - so don't take this as medical advice. More like experienced-mom-advice - which in some cases is just as good if you ask me.

—Early Labor (stay home.)—Your contractions are sporadic and far apart. You are going about your normal day. Your internal monologue sounds something like this: "Well those are definitely contractions. I think. They feel like Braxton Hicks but there is a little pain now—I think this is it! I should pack/clean/shower/shave/rest." Eat food and drink water.
—More Advanced Early Labor (stay home. seriously.)—Your contractions are getting closer together and they are becoming more consistent. You should probably have a little stop watch or iPhone app handy at this point to track your contractions. Your internal monologue sounds something like this: "I am a rock star. I must have some pretty high pain tolerance, because I can totally do this. Why do women make such a big deal about this. Oh this is fun using the birth ball. Oh look at me doing my hypnobaby/yoga breathing so flawlessly. It just feels like bad period cramps! I should maybe think about going to the hospital. I bet I am totally farther than I think, but I am just amazing at handling pain." Eat food and drink water.
—Early Active Labor (stay home still. but get ready.)—Your contractions are close to 5-1-1 (5 minutes apart from the start of one to the start of the other, lasting for one minute in length, for at least one hour). You are resting between contractions in a chair, or in bed, and then maybe assuming a different posture through your contraction because it actually helps the pain (leaning over, squatting, etc). Internal monologue "I am still a rock star, it just hurts worse. Like, I am starting to feel it all through my back and mid-section. Ohhh that one actually really felt like shit. But I am still in control. I think. Crap, here comes another one. Damn it." Eat food and drink water.
—True Active Labor (get thee to thy hospital.)—You have passed the 5-1-1 test. You are doing whatever you can to relieve the pain, but nothing helps, because honestly, there is nothing you can do. It hurts like a bitch...like pain you never dreamed was possible. When a contraction comes, you are seriously unable to speak or breathe. Your whole body, including your face, is tense and clenched. There is really no internal monologue, because you cannot think of anything besides how much pain you are in and how to relieve it. Get in the car, hang on to the "oh shit handle," and turn the air vents on your face, because you are probably sweating now. Every red light sucks. Every radio station sucks. Every bump in the road sucks. Your husband sucks. Eve sucks. Having babies sucks.  I really may die.
I hope this helps. They will admit you fast if you are truly in serious active labor, and you will be so relieved to get in that room, around medical professionals, and then things don't seem as scary because you have help and nurses who are so great. Don't even worry about who the doctor is, because if all goes well, he will seriously come in when the nurse says the baby is ready to be born, catch the baby, fix your vag, and leave. It is the nurses who really matter. You will do great!

Only a month left until this baby has to come out. Deep breaths...
And thanks, Bethany!