On Nesting

I know these pictures are totally cliche, but I feel as though it's a sort of right of passage when you have a baby.

Besides, so what if it's cliche.   I lapped up the sight of my man putting together our baby's crib the same way millions of women have before me.

               And although I did find ways to make myself useful during the process....

                                                    ....in reality, I was about as helpful as the dog.

We complained dragging the box up the stairs, struggled to contain the explosion of packing styrofoam in the process and procrastinated cleaning up the mess afterwards.

Seeing it all set up as the finished product just as lovely as the floor model we'd seen in the store, it hit me all over again - we are having a baby.

                 - Mama, out.

 

It's Official!

For any woman out there who's been lucky enough to have a baby with the love of her life, you'll know the look I'm talking about.  It's a look during the ultrasound that your man makes when they see your baby up on the screen.  Because they're the only one that can see the screen during the exam, their face is the sole focus for you.  You're searching it for emotion the entire time.  Searching it to know the baby's heart is beating, that it has two legs, 10 fingers, and didn't get your grandmother's nose.  But the look that distracts you, calms you down and centers you is one of pure wonderment and love he has for that little person.  He is speechless, and when you ask what is going on, all he can do is shake his head and smile.

During my whole pregnancy I've been pretty sure we were having a boy.  Can't explain why - just thought so.  However, my dear Mitchell was convinced it was a girl.  We constantly fought over boy names (sorry Mitch...but River is vetoed.  I get it....you like to fish), but had a beautiful girl name we both loved locked in.  I loved the way the name sounded when he said it, and couldn't stop picturing a little girl with long, dark, tangled, unkept hair like her Mama's.  I kept picturing this beautiful little girl, but quietly knew my little man was cookin' in there.

About halfway through the ultrasound, my gut feeling was confirmed.  I'd known the whole pregnancy and even though I couldn't see the screen, I knew from the look on Mitch's face he had lost the bet and would be buying lunch in an hour or so.  Poor guy looked so disappointed.  Not sure if it was because he turned out to be wrong, or because there wouldn't be a daddy's girl on the other end of this journey. 

We didn't have that moment you picture having where you both start crying, the ultrasound technician joins in, and everyone is completely overjoyed - embracing the moment.  That didn't come just yet.  I was so excited, but Mitchell's disappointment had me a bit worried about him.

We left the appointment, got lunch and I dragged him to Baby Gap - the one place I knew in that moment would turn him around.  And sure enough, as soon as he held up a little onesie that said "I Love Daddy", the misty eyes I remembered from the first time he heard the heart beat were there....right there in the middle of Baby Gap.

 
And so, this Mama will be shopping for overalls instead of tutus, watching The Lion King instead of The Little Mermaid, and will one day be paying an obscene amount of money in car insurance so her son can drive his 17th birthday present to school and back.......and I couldn't be more excited.

Honestly, I'd rather build a fort than have a tea party ANY day.  And as for Mitch, well he's already ordered a fly fishing bib for his new fishing buddy.

              - Mama, out.

In a Month's Time

I wrote a post on my NZ blog a month ago about chapters in my life from a fishing perspective with it ending on how Paige and I are going to have a baby. Not much has changed since I wrote that, except the fact that it’s a month later, Paige’s belly has grown and we are nearly halfway until the baby arrives.

Sure a few more things can happen over that month and they did, but on the other hand some things haven’t.

I still have the most beautiful women in the world in my life. The fullness in my heart and my love for Paige is still there, but only even greater. I love waking up everyday and being able see her asleep, knowing that our baby is sleeping right with her.

I got to see a glimpse of how proud Paige will be of our child. One of her schools was putting on a play and she was bursting with pride over them…and I can’t imagine how proud she will be when our kid does something similar…or when she 1^st talks or walks (yeah, I said she. Everyone seems to think we’re having a boy except for me!)

Paige’s belly is beginning to get big and she looks amazing. My sister, Chelsea, had given Paige some oil to rub on her belly and I have a new ritual of rubbing that on her belly every night and bonding with the baby.

Tomorrow we find out if we are having a boy or a girl. I can’t remember a time when I was more excited. I get butterflies in my stomach every time I think about it. Soon we will be starting to gather things for the baby’s room and getting ready for it when it comes home for the 1^st time.

Also in that month span I’ve also decided that reel mowers are a pain in the ass. It takes twice as long to mow the lawn and I advise anyone whose thinking about getting one to think twice.

                  - Papa, out.
 

          

On Hypnobirthing

A couple of months ago, Mitchell and I decided to use hypnobirthing as the center of our birthing plan.  I understand this may seem odd to many of you (particularly when coming from the same person who brought you "Paige Rage") and I'll admit that even I thought I would be the woman demanding an epidural at the first sign of labour. However, when I did the research and spoke to a friend who had done hypnobirthing just a few months prior, we were signed up for the classes in no time.

The same friend who had just experienced a very successful, pain free, natural hypnobirth a few months ago told me the other day that one of the best parts of her hypnobirthing classes was a meditative reading in which you made the choice of how your labour would feel, and how long it would take.  She said, that she had decided all she would feel was pressure (instead of pain), and that was exactly what happened.

So when we arrived to our final class, I specifically asked our instructor about this "miracle, God sent, too good to be true, meditative script that ensured a pain free delivery".  She said we would be doing a hypnosis later on in the day to that effect.

Now, we usually go under hypnosis  roughly 4 times during a day with the instructor.  The second time that day after we had been brought out of our hypnotic state, we walked out of the hypnosis room and back to classroom.  At that point Mitchell turned to me and asked
"How did you choose to feel your labour?"  I looked at him with a huge question mark plastered across my forehead.  "You know - Pain? Pressure?" he continued.
"Oh yes", I replied with an obvious pause..."pressure?"
"And how long did you decide for your labour to be?" he said.
"Two hours?"  (question mark plastered once more on my forehead....)

The truth is, I didn't know what the hell he was talking about, and had ZERO recollection of either of these questions being asked.  When we sat down to watch a couple more videos, I nervously asked the instructor if the script she had just read was available in our book for Mitchell to read to me.

"Nope" she replied. "That one's ALL MINE!"

GREATTTTTTT......the one thing I wanted to go over, THE ONE thing I even ASKED to do, the one thing I DEMANDED she do with us.......and I missed it!

I confessed to Mitchell in the car on the way home that I couldn't remember any of what had gone on during that hypnosis, and he attempted to fill me in on what I had "missed".  Well it was ALL NEWS TO ME!

The next day I spoke to my hypnobirthing friend who said that it was a really good sign I couldn't remember it, because it means I was really deep into my hypnosis, and made the decision subconciously.  Well...since I have NO IDEA what decision I made, I'm just hoping I wasn't so dumb as to subconsiously decide to feel pain!

I guess I'm not surprised though.  During my "Rainbow Relaxation" hypnosis (photo below), I wasn't aware and had no recollection of it having anything to do with the colours of the rainbow (which is apparently what the HOUR LONG script talks about).  Turns out I'm super good at hypnosis y'all!  Pain free, natural childbirth HERE I COME!

                  - Mama, out.

Orange Juice

The first thing a guy must remember when he finds out he is expecting a baby is that when a pregnant woman says she wants something, that’s what she wants. Not a variation of it. Not a different brand name. She wants what she said she wants.

It’s taken me a few times to figure this out. The most recent time I was asked to grab a specific type of orange juice. Looking in the fridge at the grocery store I found their brand of OJ for $2 cheaper…perfect. Get what Paige wants and save a little money. My bad.

Apparently Paige’s tastes are heightened and there is huge a difference.

Okay I admit, the orange juice does taste like crap. 

                - Papa, out.

On Getting Fat

I love seeing pregnant women walking down the street.  Their cute little baby bumps, their warm pregnancy glow, and the slight waddle they've developed to accommodate the beach ball where their waist previously was.  It is all adorable.

However, I have very quickly discovered it is a very different experience when it is happening to you.

Our baby bumps may be cute, but it's incredibly frustrating not being able to do up your pants.  Normally, when things get tight you can just cut the treats, up the miles and be back in shape in no time.  I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that it's going to get worse before it gets better.  Much much worse.

The glow? OF COURSE we have a glow! We're sweating from pumping 25% more blood through our bodies and carrying around all this extra baby weight!

I really have enjoyed watching the bump get bigger every week, but today I had a wee bit of a meltdown.

I was laying on my exercise ball, rolling back and forth trying to stretch my back out (which is permanently aching as it shifts around to accommodate the aforementioned beach ball).  After I was stretched out, I was sitting up against the ball.  I find that sitting pressed up against the ball with my butt still off the ground relieves some of the pressure from my back.  In attempt to readjust, I supported the weight of my body with my arms and tried to shimmy back a bit.  Before I was able to shimmy, my arms buckled, the ball slipped out from underneath me and I literally bounced off the floor.

I sat there for a minute, killing myself laughing, turned to Mitch and said "That was the fattest moment of my life".

Let me tell you, the sensation of rolling off a ball, and bouncing off the floor, unable to get up is (I'm sure) as emotionally jolting as it is hilarious to watch.

I laughed for a moment, and then I cried.  I cried for a good 5 minutes.  Not just little sniffles, no no - wailing, sobbing, streaming tears.

I see in hindsight how ridiculous it was to have a such a meltdown over something so ridiculous but I think it simply stemmed from the stress of experiencing so many changes to my body, SO QUICKLY.  Who knew an exercise ball and a momentary loss of balance was all I needed to open the floodgates.

             - Mama, out.

Beginnings

"You have to accept whatever comes, and the only important thing is that you meet it with courage and with the best that you have to give."

                        

                                                                                               - Eleanor Roosevelt