Turn Turn Turn

Guess who is sticking their butt up in the air more? That's right, Shrimpie! Good baby! I just hope Shrimpie keeps it up and sinks down into that pelvis and leaves his or her butt up in the air for the rest of this pregnancy.

Now, if Shrimpie does indeed stay head down, I have to make sure my midwife isn't cutting me off from choosing a home birth. I have this sneaking suspicion that she is paving the way to have me go for a hospital birth.

In other news, thanks Thordora for checking to see if you had an issue of Interweave Fall '04! As luck would have it, I discovered that the Interweave site left a copy of the pattern up in an alternate folder. Someone probably forgot to replace it when Interweave's right to distro the pattern for free ran out. But, their oversight is my winfall! If you want to see what I'm talking about, Google Flower Basket Shawl and check out both the second and the third (indented) links.

It's a pretty shawl and I just bought 300 m of lovely handpainted wool/merino sock yarn that would be perfect. I'm hoping 300 m is enough yarn to make a decent sized shawl. I suppose I could always use slightly larger needles and aggressively block it to increase the size. Since there is a lot of wonderful me in my body right now, I'm afraid of making a shawl that won't actually make it around my shoulders.

I just finished a very plain triangular shawl called the One Skein Shawl. This shawl is knit up on larger needles (US 8?) and a single skein of Handpainted Boutone in Pirineos. I omitted the lace border before the bind off and probably went up a little extra on the gauge size.

The result, which I'd love to show you but presently can't, is a nice plain, very open, shawl that would be a perfect addition to a summer or spring wardrobe - which was what I was going for, of course. I just have to block the fabric so that I can get the most mileage out of it. Since it's 100% wool, it should take to an aggressive blocking quite well.

And, wrapping up the news of the day from Chez Momcast, Sean is leaving in the morning to hang out in Hershey PA for the weekend.

The Hamilton Bulldogs beat out the Chicago Wolves to take the AHL Western Conference. They are now in the AHL Calder Cup finals. Games 1 and 2 will be played in Hershey PA against the Hershey Bears, a notoriously tight team, on Friday and Saturday, June 1 and 2.

The last series against Chicago was particularly exciting. The pace was fast and furious throughout and I have to admit that when it became obvious in the last 10 seconds of the last game that we were about to win the conference (4 wins in 5 games) and move on to the finals, something this team has only done 3 times now (one of which was when Kieran was born and he attended his first AHL hockey game at 6 wks old), well, I got a little teary eyed.

And it wasn't just pregnancy hormones, folks, Sean had tears in his eyes, too!

So, Sean will travel with our good friends Doug and Lynn to see the games. I'm jealous, and not just because I have to be working the pregnant mamahood single style from Friday morning to Sunday evening!

Go Dogs Go!

Birth Junkie Radio!

Tune in tonight for the inaugral episode of Birth Junkie Radio with your hosts Leanne Palmerston & Shannon Wray.

Each week, these doulas and birth junkies will bring you information and talks with experts about pregnancy, birth and beyond.

Tune in locally to CFMU 93.3 FM, listen on the web by going to http://cfmu.wwworks-inc.com:8000/listen.pls (requires Winamp) or find us on iTunes by searching for CFMU McMaster University Campus Radio - every Wednesday evening from 6-6:30 (EDT).

If you have any questions about pregnancy, birth, breastfeeding and/or the newborn period, email them to birthjunkieradio@gmail.com and we’ll answer them on the air with our experts!

The First Signs Of Trouble

I am 34 weeks pregnant now.

If this was my pregnancy with Kieran, I would be 2 weeks (and a couple of days) away from delivery. I suppose I should actually get off my butt and start gathering gear and supplies from my sister's stashes, eh?

My mom found a dozen newborn diapers at the Value Village for a $1 and got them. I can't get over how damned small they are! I can't imagine giving birth to something so small it would require diapers that little! How strange.

I had a midwife appointment last week. All of my measurements were fine. My blood pressure was 111/75, my glucose and protein levels were in check and there was no weight gain in the previous two weeks, bringing my total weight gain so far in this pregnancy to 10 pounds.

Yes, that's right, I've only added 10 pounds to my total weight! And that and more will be gone the moment the baby leaves my body, so I'll have lost weight beyond my starting weight! You can't imagine how thrilled I am about that. Let's hope that more weight will follow it when I start nursing day and night again!

My belly measured exactly it's week count: 33.5 cm. Unfortunately, for the third meeting in a row, baby was transverse. While it's entirely normal for a baby to move around quite a lot in the last month or two, they do tend to be head down more often then not. This baby, however, wasn't trending that way.

In fact, a month ago my grandmother and younger sister both remarked about how low I seemed to be carrying. I started to get really concerned, but figured it was probably just the fact that I have extra energy in a pouch below my belly, making it appear as it it extends lower than it does coupled with the fact that as a second time mom, my pelvic basket sags a bit. Then my mum saw me and was shocked to see me look so low.

It's not really low, though. The baby is just lying sideways across my belly and that makes my belly look less high.

And, even though there is still lots of room (and belly laxity) for baby to move around from breech or transverse to head down (vertex), it's worth it for me and my midwives to be prepared for whatever may happen, namely: a c-section.

If the baby is transverse for labour, I will HAVE to have a c-section. There is just no way around that. The full length of even a small newborn will not fit through anyone's pelvis. If the baby is breech, I may have a small chance at a vaginal delivery, presided over by a sympathetic OB, of which my midwife knows one. A breech vaginal delivery is entirely dependent on the baby's particular presentation, however. Some presentations are more favourable than others.

Of course, as I said before, there is still lots of time and belly/uterine laxity for baby to turn into the right position. There is a great website called www.spinningbabies.com that offers lots of great info on getting baby's to turn and how to create favourable conditions in the maternal body that will allow for a baby to take a normal birthing position. There are possibilities for getting help through chiropractics, acupuncture, massage, maternal positioning / inversion exercises, moxibustion and finally, and most interventive, external cephalic version.

My midwife has ordered an ultrasound for the 10th of June, when I will be 36 weeks. Immediately after the ultrasound, I am to bring the tech report to my midwife who will use the information to see if I need to consult an OB. If the baby is transverse or breech at that time, I will see an OB about an external cephalic version.

ECV is effective in permanently turning breech and inverted babies approximately 58% of the time. Not great odds, though the fact that I've already had a child improves my chances, slightly due to that belly laxity.

If the baby cannot be turned by 37 or so weeks or if I go into labour before baby gets a chance to turn, I will be transferred to an OB and undergo a c-section. I do not want to undergo major surgery. I really, really don't.

While I do want to do what is best for my and my baby's health, I want to avoid a c-section as it were the black plague. I will do just about anything to avoid such serious surgery. Heck, I'll do everything I possibly can to avoid even stepping into the hospital!

So, that's where we are. I swear that after my appointment Thursday, baby has been flipping into the LOT presentation (head down, back facing my right hip, head facing my left hip). I did a little silent pleading (mind melding) with baby to get it's butt up in the air and it may have worked. I'm trying to stay mindful of where I feel the back and where I feel the bulk of the baby's kicks (back often on my right side, kicks coming out around left of the belly button or higher) so that I can more accurately map what position baby is in.

So, maybe there won't be any reason for worry.

As things stand right now, however, my midwife will not be coming to make a home assessment next week as previously planned. She promised to do at least one prenatal appointment at my home, but I'm getting the distinct feeling I may be getting shifted away from my beloved home birth and prepped for a hospital delivery.

Turn baby! Turn!

8 Things You Didn't Know About Me

Thoradora didn't tag me, but I'm pretending like she did. I've been seeing a similar meme around the blog world for the last year or more and always thought about participating, because I got me a few secrets that need outing.

I don't know why there are 8 items, but here we go:

1. I used to be an art model at my old university. I started when I was in first year as an easy way to make money between classes. I was paid $12 an hour to stand around naked for 3 or 4 hours at a time. I may not have been the steadiest model (or the thinnest), but I became a popular one. Eventually, two fourth year students used the entire model budget for a single year when they worked on two bronzes for their final portfolio.




2. I once smuggled a controlled substance from London back to Canada. A friend of mine had done it a few times already and I naively thought $500 was the easiest money ever for flying in and out of England over a weekend. We flew out of Toronto, landed in London's Gatwick where I got hassled for arriving in England with two empty suitcases and a recent Irish visa stamp in my passport. We hung out at a "safe house" for 6 hours and then boarded a flight to Washington Dulles with a couple of suitcases filled with Khat. We stayed in a motel overnight and, due to the fact of a bust on the Canadian - US border that very night for Khat, we were rerouted at that last minute so that the next day we took a cab to Washington National and flew to Detroit Metro where we got ourselves to the bus station in order to meet with two cars that would drive us back over the border. I didn't realise that even though Khat was not a controlled substance in England and was not yet a controlled substance in Canada, that is was a narcotic in the US and that I would have gone to prison had I been caught there. For trafficking! Recall where I said I was naive? Yeah, really, really naive.
3. Despite most people telling me how suited I am to my job as a doula and how good a mom I am to Kieran, most of my family was flat out shocked when I revealed that I wanted to be a mother. I think they assumed that as an intelligent feminist being a mother wasn't on my life radar. It was something I always assumed would happen, though, regardless of whether I ever "settled down". Though, I am ever grateful to be a parent with Sean who, despite the occasional fights, is my soul mate and even after being with him for 8 years, the thought of him makes my heart flutter (though, to be honest, the thought of him also occasionally make my blood boil).
4. I ate an entire can of whipped cream last week. I ate it standing in front of the fridge, with the fridge door open. I ate it over 3 days, though, which I consider an amazing show of restraint.
5. If I finish a book without having another book ready to be read, I have an anxiety attack. I get irrational and pick fights with Sean, I have heart palpitations and become depressed. It used to happen when I'd finish a package of cigarettes at night and didn't have a fresh pack waiting for morning. Thank goodness that stupidity is over with. The anxiety attack thing isn't gone, though.
6. I don't know how to drive. I'm 36 and can't drive a car. I have driven twice in my life. The first time, I backed my father's '67 GTO up in our drive and managed to wedge it diagonally between our house and the neighbours. The other time, my sister took me in a friend's parent's car to teach me how to drive and I totaled the car and gave my sister a fractured breastbone that wasn't discovered until she sneezed at work and woke up in an Ambulance! The pressure of the sneeze blew out her breastbone and the pain caused her brain to make her pass out! The car went to a wreckers the next day for $50. I was wracked with guilt for months.
7. If money and my figure weren't at issue, I would always wear skirts and dresses. I have a strong girly streak in me. Of course, it is equally at war with my "I just don't give a f*ck" streak. But, pretty little skirts are something I love.
8. I'm stuffing garlic pieces into my pink bits to get rid of possible bacterial overgrowth (like bacterial vaginosis, group b strep, yeast - yes I know that is not a bacteria) in preparation for my home birth. Now my bathroom smells like an Italian kitchen.
   

Aren't you excited you read this post? We're so much closer now that you know all of my little secrets!

Want to play along? Leave a link in the comments!

Choosing Home Birth

I've mentioned many times over the course of this pregnancy that I'm having a home birth. I imagine that sounds a little weird to some people. The funny thing is that by now, it sounds totally normal to me. In fact, I've lived with this decision so long now that the idea of giving birth in a hospital seems genuinely odd.

At our first midwifery meeting way back in 2003, when we were pregnant with Kieran, our midwife asked us, "And have you thought about where you will be delivering?" We replied right away, "Oh! The hospital, of course!" Because, that's where you had babies, right?

Here in Ontario, midwives, by and large, have hospital privileges at one or more hospitals. As long as everything remains fairly low risk and within their scope of practice, an Ontario midwife can deliver babies in hospital without hospital interference of any kind - meaning that not an L&D nurse will enter your room at any time during or after labour, unless a transfer of care happens or mom requests an epidural or something.

The Ontario midwives can also attend home births. Just as in the case of hospital births, as long as mum and baby's health circumstances remain within the midwife's scope of practice, birth can happen in the home. The midwives come fully prepared for common, light emergency circumstances: vials of oxytocin, oxygen tanks, gear for fixing tears, etc. They will also administer antibiotics in labour procured by the mother in the case that she is GBS+.

Basically, aside from access to a vacuum to assist delivery, a fancy infant warmer or a monitor to trace out fetal heart tones and contraction strength, the midwife will have with everything she will have at her immediate disposal in a hospital room. The only thing missing is the attending OB to consult with in the event that weirdness happens.

So, when we were first time parents, we said what most first time parents say: "Since we've never done this before, delivering in hospital just feels safer." And it did, until late in my pregnancy.

I'd done so much more research and soul searching that, by the end of the pregnancy, the idea of birthing in a hospital, with its particular risk factors, started to seem like the lesser of the two options. When the SARS quarantine came down on all Ontario hospitals, I was nudged closer still to choosing home birth over hospital birth.

The quarantine meant that the 2 labour support persons rule was thrown out in favour of partners or a single support person. On the post partum floor, no visitors, except the partner or the single support person, were allowed into the hospital. I was looking at being separated from my mother during birth and being horribly isolated after the birth when company and the support of my family was so important to me as a first time mom.

At around 34 weeks I floated the idea that if the SARS quarantine was happening (at that time it was being debated as a cross province measure and hospitals were beginning to reduce visitor traffic and reduce services to all but the most essential), I wanted to switch to a home birth. After all, my entire pregnancy had proceeded without a blip. I'd refused GD testing, but the baby measured well, my weight gain was well within reason, I felt healthy and happy and confident.

I don't know if the midwife put it off as not a serious inquiry due to the panic surrounding SARS in Ontario at that time, but we never did really discuss it. At 36 weeks the full quarantine was announced.

I naively thought that we could make that decision at the last minute, sort or like "hey, I think we'll just do this at my house tonight, see you there!" It never occurred to me that a home birth was something that not only me but the midwives would need time and energy to plan. I never really pursued the home birth angle with much conviction or knowledge.

The decision was made for me, however, when my water broke at 36 weeks and 5 days. As a first time mum, birthing at home before 37 weeks was not within the midwife's scope of practice. Not only did my water break, but there was no detectable labour until 12 hours or so after the water breaking. Since it was a slow leak with delayed onset of labour before 37 weeks, my midwives rightly exercised caution and we made arrangements for a backup induction at the 24 hour mark.

I knew I'd give birth before then, however, and I did. I gave birth without the use of drugs for pain management and, despite a long second stage with evidence that the baby was not tolerating labour very well anymore, I delivered without assistance.

Thinking back on the experience with even more birth education - I'm now a doula - I can see where certain choices I made in labour - or maybe it's more accurate to say that choices I failed to make due to my inexperience and being overwhelmed by the circumstances - led directly to a more difficult birth experience for me and the baby. Knowing more now, I can see how some very simple changes could have had a positive effect in stage 2. In addition, there is the issue of keeping me and baby as healthy as possible so that we can hit term.

The experience of being in the hospital was really hard on me. I felt isolated and disempowered. Being hooked up to machines, heck just being in room surrounded by machines, made me feel small and less able to speak on my own behalf. The machines frightened me. The room was clinical and cold and foreign. I felt out of my element.

Then, afterward, the isolation was unbearable. Up on the post partum floor I was alone most of the time, with nurses whose names I didn't know streaming in and out at random, doctors with hordes of residents in tow for grand rounds popping in and not giving me the low down on our jaundice situation, a grotesque lack of breastfeeding support, crappy food, boredom and no guidance. The midwives still came in to see me and baby, but because of a heart murmur (totally benign), a sacral dimple (an inherited feature that is totally benign), very mild hypospadius (causing no ill effect) and newborn jaundice due primarily to Kieran's pre-term age, we were transferred to the care of a pediatrician who I didn't initially connect with and who seemed far too rushed to give me the attention I needed to understand everything and get it all sorted.

It's actually these parts of my birth experience that I was dissatisfied with that inspired me to become a doula so that I could help other overwhelmed moms negotiate this confusing time.

I'm pretty sure it was these things that led to a later diagnosis of post partum depression.

It's also all of this that cemented the idea that for this birth, I want to be at home.

So, this time, when I went in for my initial meeting with my midwife, the same woman who lifted my son onto my belly at his birth, asked, "Have you thought about where you'd like to deliver?" Immediately I answered, "At home!"

In the event of an emergency, we live within 5 city blocks of our hospital of choice But, again, with this pregnancy, I haven't had any blips on my prenatal radar. I feel happy and healthy and despite a saggy pelvic floor that gives me more aches than I remember with my first pregnancy, I'm in even better health than before. I don't smoke (yes, I am admitting to not completely ending my filthy habit during my first pregnancy), I am eating much better and I am far more in tune with my body this time.

I'm just starting a natural protocol for GBS to minimize the liklihood that GBS is a contributing factor for a repeat preterm premature rupture of membranes and I'm working with a doula to ensure that what I'm thinking about before labour in terms of pain management and upright positions for pushing and delivery are followed through with during the actual birth.

In two weeks, when I'm 35+wks, my midwife will do a prenatal at my home and assess the environment for birth. I'm guessing she's going to plot out where the electrical units are, how suitable our bed is for birthing in the positions we want to try, how ergonomic the setup is between the various rooms of our home for housing the midwives and other birth attendants and give any advice about preparing our home that she sees fit to give.

I'm really at peace with the whole process now. It seems like such a great idea; it seems so obvious that I wouldn't need the hospital unless there was something wrong and that only people already sick would enter the hospital at the beginning of labour. I don't mean that I judge people for deciding to labour and deliver in hospital. It's just that, over the course of this pregnancy as I've thought about having a home birth and begun to prepare both physically and mentally for that eventuality, my perspective has really changed about the role of hospital care in my normal pregnancy.

It is clear, however, that I have some serious cleaning up still to do in my bedroom!

ISO: Interweave Fall '04, and more...

I'm looking for a copy to buy, borrow or trade of Interweave Fall '04. I'm interested in the Flower Basket Shawl.

It's no longer offered on the Interweave website as a download. Fibre Trends doesn't sell their patterns directly and none of the local shops that distribute their patterns carry the FBS. Of course, if I could find a distributer I could deal with online, they don't offer downloadable patterns (I HATE when patterns aren't downloadable!!!).

So, maybe one of your crafty-knitty women would like to make a deal?

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In other news, there is a great article in the Toronto Star today by a cool writer. Helen Spitzer writes Me and My Girl and the Gilmore Girls, an essay about the shows effect on a young, single mother and her daughter.

I found the article so refreshing. It's hard to find voices like mine out there in the mainstream media (and boyo, the Star is major mainstream in Canada). Normally the voices of mothers are very PC, very blandified and skewed heavily to what is often called the "soccer mom": a frosted, SUV driving, mani-pedi getting ultra mom with a McMansion in the burbs. Spitzer is not that, thank goodness!

So, check it out!

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And in still other news, we bought Kieran a package of Tinkertoys yesterday during a 2 location Value Village blitz. Sean thought they might be too abstract and advanced for Kieran, but I knew that my budding little engineer would love them. And, a Colossal size tube of Tinkertoys, totatally intact?! For $3.99?! I was not passing them by!

As we browsed the store, a young Mennonite boy was riding around on a wonderful Radio Flyer bike w/ trainers. It looked to be about 12", which is what we are looking to get Kieran as his trike is just too small for him.

When we were getting ready to leave, Sean said, "we should ask if that family is going to buy the bike, because at $10, it's a steal and Kieran would love it." He set off one way and I turned around to see the mother with one of her impossibly pretty blonde daughters walking towards me.

"Is it your son riding the Radio Flyer bike?" I asked.

She smiled, "Yes! He loves it."

"Are you going to get it?"

She nodded, "Yes, we are. And for $10!"

I totally understood. "I thought I'd ask in case you weren't going to buy it, because I would if you weren't."

She gave me a knowing smile. "I see you found the Tinkertoys. If you aren't going to get those, I'll definitely take them."

I laughed and said, "Oh, I can't pass up these!"

We chatted for a few moments and I left with a good feeling. And a tiny bit of sadness. I mean, a Radio Flyer bike for $10?!

Kieran opened up the Tinkertoys this morning and has been playing with them, fascinated, all day. "Hey Mom! Check out my new satellite! I made it in my toy lab!"

He can't draw worth a darn and he can't recite the alphabet yet, but he loves to build spaceships!

Kieran Gets A Haircut

I wish I could show you the latest picture of Kieran's new haircut. He looks awesome. But, alas, our camera has been well and truly dead for a while now and we've not got the extra funds to pay for another.

**if any of Kieran's aunts wants to bring their cameras over, I'd be very grateful, as would the rest of my dear sweet readers.

We went to a new kids salon that just opened up. I don't know if I should name names. They are still only a month or two since opening and I'm sure they're all nice people and they were very nice to us and gave Kieran a great haircut.

But.

I felt like I was in an salon for kids that should have been located in Yorkville in Toronto or something. It was a little bit big city chic and not necessarily in a good way. It felt trendy. They apparently offer parties for pre-teens that feature manicures and pedicures. Ick!

The stylist who took care of Kieran wasn't just upbeat and positive, he was manic! And his praise for Kieran - who, believe me, did nothing to garner any praise - was robotic. He reminded me of an extra from The Doodlebops. I wanted to slap the smile off his face and force feed him valium.

The owner came over and gave me a balloon, candy and diploma while they finished up with the little man. She explained their frequent flyer system and pointed out that they were opening an adult salon next door in a month and that the frequent flyer program applied to services there, too, equally.

As she was telling me of the various services they would offer, I had a hard time keeping a straight face and actually laughed a couple of times. OK, "mani-pedis" I understand, but did I look like the kind of gal who would be interested in extensions or - gawd forbid - "artificial eyelashes"?! Do normal women actually do that? Get fake eyelashes at a salon?

So, for Kieran's next haircut, which may not happen until 2008 because yes, I am that lazy, we will have to find a new salon. There used to be a great one in the antique district which is not a far walk from our house, but the woman who ran it left the main salon it was attached to. Not thinking there was anything special about cutting kid hair, I went to a Super Cuts or Magic Cuts or something, but they were really horrible. The woman wasn't experienced with children at all and when Kieran, then 3 1/2, kept moving his head around, she was clearly flustered. Now this new kids salon is icky and way overpriced (his father pays the same at a different salon for his own haircuts!).

What am I gonna do?

More Random! A PotPourri of Posts!

I don't know what's up with me lately. I keep procrastinating when I sit down at the computer. I just lack the motivation to be active and instead spend a couple hours passively sucking in info and reading up on what's going on with everyone else. I haven't even been a good blog friend, lately; I've failed to leave comments on everyone's blogs when I should be participating in this wonderful community.

Is that a symptom of mild depression? Probably related to the pregnancy hormones that are making me a little cranky.

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The latest midwifery appointment went well. While I gained a pound per week in each of the two previous weeks, after months of gaining nothing, I have still only put on about 10lbs this pregnancy. Perhaps only 8lbs - I'm having troubling remembering my starting weight accurately. But, 10lbs in 31 weeks is AWESOME!

In deference to my third midwife's concern about refusing the Gestational Diabetes (and by concern I mean that she doesn't necessarily think I should take it, but that she wants to more closely monitor me since I haven't taken it), I did the standard three day (2 weekdays and 1 weekend) food diary that a nutritionist would do. Yesterday, my primary midwife looked over the food diary and did a little nutritional counseling.

Overall, she is happy with the variety of foods I'm eating. She made a few suggestions for even healthier snacks or food strategies: plain yogurt with berries instead of ice cream with berries, not eating a cookie AND a banana for snack, diet soda instead of regular, more vegetables... But, overall, my diet looked fairly balanced. My diet doesn't restrict my carbs in the way a diabetic diet would, but there still remains no evidence that I require such a diet. So, yay me!

We also discussed our next few meetings. At this stage we are meeting every 2 weeks. Most of the time the midwives switch between meetings so that I get a chance to be equally comfortable with my two main midwives and at least meet once or twice my third, or backup, midwife. Since my primary was away on vacation for a while and we haven't seen each other in over a month, I'm coming back to her for a week 33 visit. After that, since we're planning a home birth, my primary is going to visit me at home for the week 35 visit.

At that time, she'll assess the apartment for its suitability as a location for birth. She wants to see how the space issues are, how high the bed is and where it is located and scope out the amenities. At around that time I'll get some stuff to keep for when the birth happens - supplies - and I'll be given a list of preparations to make - supplies, refreshments...

It's all so exciting! I can't believe how soon this is all happening. I mean, gosh, we have just a few days less than 2 calendar months until my EDD! And, we're having our baby at home! What a dream come true! I'm getting goosebumps just thinking about it.

I hope I deliver in the afternoon with the summer sun coming in the three leaded glass windows in my bedroom.

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We are getting Kieran a bird. With the experience of watching my FIL's cockatiel Gypsy, as well as the research we've done into what sort of bird would make a great pet, we have decided to bring a cockatiel into our home.

I contacted a private breeder the other day and finally got an email back that they have a little clutch of cockatiels - a couple of standard greys and a couple of cinnamons - that will be ready to go in 2-3 weeks. The breeder has invited us to come and meet the birds and make a choice.

We decided to go with a private breeder after learning about the differences between hand raised birds and flock raised birds. Birds that are hand raised are the kind of birds who will interact with people, will sit on your finger and not peck or bite. This is very important for a bird who lives in a family with children.

Birds who remain with their parents and siblings after they've weaned tend to be bird focused birds who can be aggressive to humans. Generally, the birds found in pet stores are flock birds. The ones billed as hand raised generally cost twice what a private bred bird does.

So, the choice is clear. We will be purchasing a bird from a private breeder, one who has been recommended to us and looks to be dedicated and loving from their website info. I can't wait!

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It's so warm! And I don't want to do anything except sit around. I'm being a terrible mum. I know I should go to the park with Kieran, but I get BH contractions every time I walk outside now and it really puts me off walking the 1/4+ mile to the park. I suck! But, I should probably just waddle myself very slowly over there for the sake of my kid, eh?

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There is a f*cking mouse running around the kitchen. I hate handling the traps and Sean is too lazy to put them out again after he's been forced, by me, to deal with their carnage. But this mouse is going to give me high blood pressure, I swear!

Damned mice! It's about the only crappy thing about living in a hundred or so year old house (and having a lazy landlord who lives an hour's drive away).

Random Mom Stuff

31 weeks along, folks! We're starting to hit the end game! I can't walk outside without having Braxton Hicks contractions. I'm trying to take it a little easier.

I announced to Sean the other night that from now on, after my evening duties are done, I am flopping on the couch and he and Kieran will have to wait on me hand and foot as I'm officially off the job and resting. He's been good, but sometimes the "Honey! I need a glass of water! Honey! Can yu get me a Tums? Honey! I need you to do something else horribly simple for me!" is hard for him to deal with. I suppose it's his dose of what being a SAHM is like.

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With Mother's Day approaching, Kieran's kid's TV network, Treehouse, is airing commercials for a day long tribute to moms. So, Kieran told his father that he wanted to get me a music box for Mother's Day. He then crawled into bed beside me and told me what he intended, explaining what a music box was.

I'm really touched by the sentiment, but I did tell him that mummy loves to read and knit, so books and sock yarn are also great ideas for gifts. "And a music box," he said with an I'm-so-cute smile.

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After swearing I'd never ever ever ever do it, I've joined Facebook. Sean had joined a few weeks before me and I'd been making fun of him and groaning every time he spoke of it. "I give you two weeks, babe," he predicted.

At a doula conference a few weeks ago (a week? I'm starting to forget stuff) Facebook came up in a marketing workshop and I thought that perhaps it was time for me to get into the whole social networking thing. I'm planning a My Space page for my business as well, but I'm dragging my feet a bit on that one.

So, if anyone is on Facebook and would like to be my friend, you can find me here.

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I'm going to see Daniel Johnston tonight! I can't wait. My friends Phil and Sarah made a mixed tape for my birthday (or was it Christmas?) many many years ago and Speedy Motorcycle was on it. I fell in love. I have to admit that I don't necessarily listen to a lot of Johnston, but he's one of those artists that noone should pass up a chance to see.

He's amazingly prolific (or once was) and he has very deep emotional problems that make him a true outsider artist. He is also a visual artist, doing pen and ink and pencil crayon drawings of his dream images and various iconic comic book charaters (most notably Captain America and Caper The Friendly Ghost). His musical work has been covered by the likes of Sonic Youth and Flaming Lips (among many many others) and you may remember images of Kurt Cobain in a t-shirt of an alien creature with the words "Hi! How Are You?" - that's an old Johnston album.

I highly recommend the documentary The Devil and Daniel Johnston. Fascinating, alarming, heartbreaking.

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Pregnancy Doubts and Paranoia

I am halfway through my 30th week of pregnancy.

I have 6 weeks to go until I hit the time that Kieran was born at.

I have 7 weeks to go until I am able to have a homebirth (and earlier birth is considered pre-term or premature and is done in hospital in case baby needs extra attention).

I have 8 weeks to go until I feel really comfortable about going into labour.

I have 10 weeks to go until my estimated due date (EDD=July 9).

I have 12 weeks to go before an induction will be pushed on me and I will lose my oppourtunity to have my child born at home (again, for sake of fetal but also maternal health).

Around now is the time when most pregnancy worries go into overdrive. This is due in part to the fact that uteruses (or uterii?) are now pushing up in to most women's ribs, lungs and stomachs causing pain, shortness of breath and heartburn. The hips have loosened and now bear so much weight from the uterus, baby and mama that sometimes the act of walking is a major challenge - I feel like I've had to learn new ways of moving to deal with the pain and looseness of my hips and various pelvic bones.

Recently when discussing my vocation and my plans for homebirth, the woman I was speaking with said, "You must really trust your body." Yes, absolutely, that's exactly why I am planning a homebirth. It is what guides my prenatal (and post partum) health choices. It is also the foundational message I try to pass along to my clients:

Trust your body, trust your baby, trust your intuition. If you can trust them and you pay attention to them, they will rarely take you on the wrong journey.

But, I'm no different than most pregnant women. Doubts creep into my mind and body and I must face them.

If you've ever been pregnant, you know about pregnancy dreams. The hormones that make pregnant women seem overly emotional or sensitive (and by that I mean that their reactions are totally legit, but maybe more extreme than when they're not pregnant) also make their dreams very vivid. Since dreams are the subconsciouses way of working out problems, a lot of pregnancy dreams are inspired by women's fears about their competency as mothers and caretakers, about their body's ability to carry and birth and nurture a baby and about the health of their babies.

The first time I was pregnant, I had a dream, in my last trimester, about Kieran coming out of me at night. I can remember that I felt no pain, only utter terror and panic as his head pushed itself out of me while I sat up in bed. My reaction to this obviously premature birth was to push the baby back inside myself and to keep my legs tightly shut lest the baby slip out again. Throughout this entire process I was alone, in the dark. I made no noise and alerted noone.

Obviously, I was consciously concerned about carrying my baby to term. I was also concerned about being alone during a precipitous birth (a birth that happens incredibly fast, often before a mother can get to the hospital or have her birth attendants arrive to assist).

It's a really common fear.

The reality is that 90% of births are totally normal and take far longer than you expect them to take (and yet, last less longer than you think they last). Even though we hear stories in the media all the time about fathers delivering baby's on bathroom floors and the backseats of cars, it is truly rare for that to actually happen. I know this.

But, I still fear it. I had another dream the other night of a similar scenario. I was standing in the living room when I noticed Shrimpie kicking quite strong. "Hurry, Kieran, check it out, you can see the shape of Shrimpie's head sticking out of my belly!" And you could!

Not only could you see the shape of the head sticking up out of the top right side of my belly, and it keep pressing upward and outward, but you coul now see the outline of the nose and eyes and mouth as if the skin was stretched taught over Shrimpie's face. Suddenly I realised that pushing its head outward, while still inside my uterus could not reveal that kind of detail.

Shrimpie was not in my uterus any longer! The baby had somehow gotten out of the womb and was roaming around inside my abdominal cavity! Something was very wrong!

And, before I could do anything else, Shrimpie was magically in my hands, umbilical still inside me somewhere. The little white and pink baby was alive and moving just a little but quiet. There was fluid and blood and vernix and its skin and I was very conscious of wrapping the baby up lest it get cold from the cooling fluids. Unfortunately, the only baby blanket I could manage to find was the Javis Davis blanket I won during NABLOPOMO. I was definitely not going to be using that for a mucky baby's first blanket.

A moment later when I woke up, I thought to myself, "I should have grabbed one of those flannel receiving blankets we were using as a mattress cover when Kieran was potty training and napping without a diaper!" Then I realised how absurd it was that I was thinking up solutions to problems in my dreams, problems that will never happen in real life (knock on wood, but I really, really, really don't ever think my baby will somehow painlessly and without warning end up not only floating in my abdomen but birthing into my hands as I stand fully clothed in my living room and I definitely won't be walking around with my newborn baby in my hands having not yet birthed the placenta, looking for a suitable blanket to wrap the baby in - I can pretty much guarantee none of that shall come to pass).

So, I'm still worrying about being alone for a precipitous premature labour, apparently.

Actually, the premature part is probably the real core of the worry. At first, after I'd made the decision to forego the Gestational Diabetes testing, I kept worrying that even though everything looked good for me healthwise, I'd grow a monstrously large baby. (And Anonymous commenters on that issue, while I welcomed your disagreement with my choice, you alarmist tone just made be feel panicked and self-doubting instead of empowering me to make what you consider healtheier choices - thanks, all the worrying is doing me wonders!)

When we first measured my fundal height, which corresponds roughly to the number of weeks one is (number of cms from pelvic bone to top of the uterus = +/- the number of weeks pregnant a woman is), I was measuring 4cm over my weeks. A month later I measured 3cm over. Three weeks later I measured 2cm over. Yesterday, my grandmother, whom I see every 2-3 weeks, immediately remarked, as I entered her house, that I looked as if I'd dropped.

Mix all that up with my pregnancy hormones and suddenly I'm becoming very paranoid that this baby is either coming soon or is not growing much. All other factors in the pregnancy are normal and reassuring: no abnormal maternal weight gain or loss, regular appetite, no protein or glucose in my urine, a general feeling of health and well-being, perfect blood pressure readings, baby moving predictably and often... Odds are good that absolutely nothing is going on. Baby may have been laying transverse so that my fundal height looked really short, my loose pelvic basket may be allowing this pregnancy to sag more than a first time mom, my considerable height (I'm 5'10, so I have a lot of room between my pelvis and my ribs, unlike my shorter pregnant sisters) could just provide more height for baby to grow into...

I don't know. I don't know if there is a problem or if I'm really just being like every other tired and hormonal pregnant woman in the universe. I don't know if I'm over-analysing without complete information on hand. I do have another midwife appointment next week and I'll see if Shirin thinks anything weird is going on.

Maybe I just need to sleep more often.

Why Do I Do This To Myself

If you know me you might think I'm full of shit when I say this, but I am an intensely shy person. In fact, if I wasn't such a good bullshitter, I might have to get meds to help me interact better with other people.

Thank gawd for the internet and the blog world otherwise I might never communicate with anyone ever at all, except perhaps my husband and my son and occasionally one of the gals in my larger family - but even picking up the phone and calling one of them is sometimes something I will put off for a very long time.

A month ago I found out one of my sister's had an Aloette Foot Spa party. I found out when she called to vent about being let down by some of the people she'd invited. She had never bothered to invite me because of my limited disposable income. So, when my mother had a party a few weeks later, I made sure I was there. I mean, I could at the least be a body in the room (it seems that low attendance and last minute cancellations are the norm) and enjoy pampering my oft neglected feet.

So, I went and had fun and instead of purchasing something, I scheduled a party of my own. What fun, I thought so very naively. What a great idea instead of the traditional make-up party: soften, scrub and moisturize your tootsies! I booked the party for tonight, May 1.

One of the main reasons I booked the party, and booked it only a couple weeks after my mother's own party, was so that I could challenge myself. You see, I am a procrastinator and I'm scared of pitching to people. I am perhaps the world's worst saleswoman. Considering marketing is one of the entrepreneur's main activities, this is a challenge I must face up to.

How can I sell my very self and my services (which I think every birthing woman needs, quite literally, and if not from me, any other doula out there because I can't imagine having a baby without one, in the same way most women consider having a qualified birth attendant - an OB or a midwife - a necessity for birthing) to strangers if I shy away from inviting my friends and acquaintances to a little pampering party?

A little late in the game, I prepared a list of all the people I should call. Then I called only half of them because the other half were people who I like and who I think like me but who I don't really spend any time with or know much yet. The thought of cold calling those people terrified me into silence. It was hard enough for me to call those people who I know and trust! I even bullshitted my way through my fear so well that I sounded like I'd just drank a Prozac shake made from fairy wishes, strawberries and sunshine.

I tried really hard. It's not like I didn't mean any of my "pitch" but it was something I wouldn't normally do. But, I had to try, I looked at it like an oppourtunity to do something new and practice being more confident.

A few days before the event - which has yet to take place, so I mean a few days ago - I realised there were a few people I missed. Those people probably would have enjoyed the party and, being self-employed as well, would have enjoyed the oppourtunity to network a little. But, it was far too late and suddenly I felt deeply guilty that any sudden call about a party in two days would be met with stony indifference - as if those people were so unimportant to me that I couldn't be bothered to call them until I was desperate.

OK, I was feeling desperate. But, I'd also suffered from the dreaded pregnancy brain syndrome - and frankly, at this stage of the pregnancy, I'd forget to breathe if I didn't suddenly feel like I might pass out for lack of oxygen, a kind of waking apnea.

The saleswoman from Aloette called me to confirm my address and my preparedness for the party. "How many people are you expecting?" she asked. "Um, I think I have four confirmed," I answered meekly. "Well, get more!" the saleswoman barked.

More?! Are you kidding?!

I called around to confirm with people. One woman can't come because she has a yoga class, already paid for, to attend. My dear friend can't come because as the mother of three children and herself a businesswoman, she needs to have some time at home with her family. Another friend's husband is upgrading his teaching qualifications this year and his classes are on Tuesday evenings. All totally understandable circumstances. I can't fault a single one and I don't.

And then there are the strong maybes. One friend called this morning to let me know her elderly mother is being transferred to the hospital with pneumonia and she wouldn't know if she was coming until she came. Well, I had a mother die of pneumonia not so long ago, so I know how serious that is and I'm the last person to expect anyone to go out of their way for me in such a circumstance! Another friend is in the middle of an exhausting series of chemotherapy. I thought that getting her feet pampered would be wonderful for her and she does too. The only problem is that her last round of chemo was last week and it generally takes a week before patients feel anywhere near normal. She, too, will not know if she is coming until she comes.

I send all of these women my love and support: I'm a mom, I've dealt with both the banality of just being mom everyday and being unable to do anything else and the extreme circumstances of being sick or tending to someone sick. That's what happens when you try to gather your friends together on one night: it's not going to work for everyone. It's the very reason my doula meeting decided to switch between morning and evening meetings.

So, I have one friend who is a definite yes. She's even confident she can bring a friend. (Oh please, universe, give my friend a pal to bring along!) And then there was my mother, who was going to come and even bring along her neighbour who was unable to attend my mother's party. You can always count on your mom, right?

Wrong! And that's the terrible lesson of adulthood. Sometimes your parents can't be there for you.

My mother has been sick for days. She can barely speak. And she thought the party was on May 2. She just called to tell me that she can't possibly make it. Of course, her neighbour won't be coming, either. I cried. I am pregnant, after all.

So, I definitely have one, perhaps two people coming.

Getting really desperate, I called one of my sisters. I called the one who has even less disposable income, arguably, than I do. "You have to come. I don't want to have one person show up!" She got on her IM of choice and landed one definite friend to bring along. That friend even said she'd buy something!

So, I still might only have 3 or 4 people in my living room tonight. I guess that's what happens when you are an artsy urban mom with a touch of social anxiety.

Last night Sean said to me, "When you told me you were going to host this party, I thought you were nuts. That's not you at all." And it's not. And, now that I'm very hugely pregnant and feeling tired and hormonal, it's REALLY not me.

Why do I do things like this to myself?! If you need me, I'll be curled on the couch hiding behind a paperback, wishing the whole universe would skip forward by 8 hours and I could pretend that I never even considered having this party.

And, if you want to order something, email me at momcast at gmail dot com. You can find the catalogue at www.aloettecosmetics.com.