Cold Spaghetti

A pretty solid day of contractions, but nothing regular or intense enough to be making the cervical changes required for labor. (ie: never longer than 40 or so seconds for more than an hour.) I have to remind myself that there is no such thing as a useless contraction. Whatever is happening now means something that doesn’t have to happen when I actually do go into active labor.

My midwife called this afternoon and reminded me of what I already know and trust: the process is perfect. It IS a perfect process and one that does not require me or anyone else to do anything. My body is completely capable of figuring it out. My job is to give it the things it needs, rest and nutrition, to function.

Plan for the night and tomorrow: secure a copy of The DaVinci Code (I’ve not read it and decided that I’m in the mood for something engaging and mindless) and watch at least one more movie (limited to what I can find on my parents’ Comcast ‘On Demand’).

I ate Paul’s perfect egg and toast and that was enough to stop my tummy rumbling and I went to sleep. It was an up and down (ie: normal) sleep and I feel better rested, but still tired. At around 10:30, I woke up to really strong cramping and it took awhile to get out of bed. Once out, I took a shower, relaxed, and did a mini assessment of the situation: still contracting, somewhat regularly, but not necessarily hugely intense on a regular basis. I want to swim in the tub outside, but it’s rainy this morning and very humid. Instead, we went on a walk around the neighborhood — walking definitely works — and came back for bathroom and lunch. I think after lunch we’ll rest a little more and keep up the walking.

So far, I feel really good. For the most part, the contractions feel just like a muscle contraction, except over more surface area. When I feel rested, I like the sensation — it feels like a wonderful energy surge or power play (like a body builder flexing — I feel like a fighter!) When I’m tired or in a poor position, it is uncomfortable. I’m not really interested in talking anymore when I’m experiencing one, but I can walk through them and like the way it feels when I do — it sort of increases the intensity and feels good, like walking off a cramp when you’re running.

Few labors steadily progress and mine is definitely not a steady progression… it ebbs and flows and does not really have regularity (yet). I do really hope that this keeps up. I like the feeling that this could be the start of a Birthday!

Restless night… could no longer sleep after about 4am. I finally woke up Paul around 4:30. My contractions are roughly 30-40 seconds long and go about every 8 minutes or so. We tried to go back to sleep, but I really felt like eating (tummy wasn’t letting me rest) so Paul is making an egg and toast. It’s about quarter to 6 now. So maybe Kate will be a Sunday baby!

So, if you’re reading this Sunday morning/afternoon, say a prayer, light a candle, dance a gig, make a chant… whatever you can do to send positive thoughts our way!

I admitted this for the first time to Paul last night.

What is my deepest, most secret birth dream? To have a child born in the caul.

To Paul… and just Paul!

Today we are celebrating Paul’s Birthday only. Paul’s take: “I like this better than sharing a birthday. That means no sharing a birthday cake.”

Tomorrow is my “due date.” Kate has 19 days to get here — in other words, it’s T-minus 19 days and counting until she is retrieved surgically from my womb (42 weeks, 4 days). Next appointment is next Thursday (40 weeks, 5 days) and the following Wednesday(41 weeks, 4 days) is when monitoring would begin. If we don’t see her by next appointment, we’ll probably start stepping things up a bit (ie: stripping membranes) and I am *really* hoping she shows up before I resort to Castor Oil and Orange Juice (ick.)

Aside from all of that, everything is fine. I am anxious because I hate being on this clock to surgery (the woes of a VBAC birth) but in reality, there is nothing to be concerned about. I am having contractions off an on and feeling good. Send good, positive labor and birthing thoughts!!!

(Educational note: it is very normal to have periods of “practice” contractions that my last for several hours. Unfortunately, many anxious women rush to the hospital during them, get hooked up to a machine which (duh) sees a contraction, get admitted, and then when their labor slows and/or stops, are entered unnecessarily into a hundred unnecessary procedures to induce labor. When should you start thinking — note the use of the word “think” — about calling your provider to consider going to your birth location? When your contractions are a good 45-50 seconds long and you cannot walk or talk through them. THOSE are the contractions that change your cervix and signal labor. That is the point when we will be thinking about heading to Pensacola — an hour away.)

As most people who know me already know, I grew up in a very close, family-centered, multi-generational household. Added to that is the fact that my parents grew up across the street from one another and shared in a long-standing family relationship that preceded them by more than a generation. The closeness among everyone meant that I grew up thinking that all families were “one” family — no such thing as a “mom’s side” or a “dad’s side” — and in fact, this concept was frankly something that did not occur to me until my late teens.

One of the beautiful things about how I was raised, particularly as the eldest and a girl, was that I became the default historian for our family’s oral history. Living with extended relatives day after day means that you have the gift of knowing, truly knowing, who they are — not just who they are through birthday cards and yearly visits. You share in their daily beliefs, fears, joys, faults, and triumphs.

Following my Grandmother’s beliefs, we had fish on Fridays (especially good Friday and on each Christmas Eve, when fish was joined by homemade pierogies). I still have the urge for fish each Friday. When I spill salt, I always throw a pinch over a shoulder (this drives Paul crazy). And when someone on the street irritates me, I mumble curses in Ukrainian. I feel these little things connect me to those who came before me and it makes me feel grounded and secure in who I am.

My Mother had a similar situation growing up. She was the eldest and a girl and grew up steps away from her grandmothers and great aunts. Her large Italian family passed down many superstitions. For example, my mother and both of her brothers were born on Tuesdays. These were the 50s, when it was believed that women were too delicate to handle childbirth. My Grandmother, petite thing that she is, was therefore thought to be incapable of delivering a child vaginally — she was knocked out and each child delivered via Cesarean. Dr. Wolf (my Grandmother’s OB) only performed surgeries on Tuesdays and Fridays. My Great-Grandmother, Ann DiMarzio (my namesake), urged Grandma Betty to go with Tuesdays because she worried that one of Betty’s children could end up being born on a Friday the 13th, which she viewed as unlucky. So Tuesday was everyone’s birthday. I’m told that everyone breathed a sigh of relief when I, too, was also born on a Tuesday (of my own accord). My brother was born on a Saturday, which was a little upsetting to the women in my family. This is all due to the old rhyme:

Monday’s child is fair of face,
Tuesday’s child is full of grace,
Wednesday’s child is full of woe,
Thursday’s child has far to go.
Friday’s child is loving and giving,
Saturday’s child works hard for a living,
But the child born on the Sabbath Day,
Is fair and wise and good and gay.

My own Mother will tell you that this contributes to her belief that Skip (my brother) will always have to work hard; similarly, my Dad was born on a Saturday and she says the same thing about him. I don’t actually think she takes it to heart, necessarily, but having grown up around those who took these things very seriously, I say that it definitely weighs on her mind.

So now we come to Kate. My Mother was very concerned that Kate would be born on a Wednesday. Thursday is not a choice day either, but would be preferred over Wednesday. Since things have been getting a little more interesting in the past few days, Kate’s birth day-of-the-week has been regular conversation.

We’re almost through Wednesday and I feel quite confident that today will not be Kate’s birthday. Kate must be listening to her very wise and loving guardian angels (and her Granna) who were all holding their breath that she would wait at least another day.

(I’m still thinking Friday, Paul’s birthday… and I’m hopefully for this day as well. It’s not Mother Goose but meconium which weighs heavy on my mind!)

(Incidentally, Paul was born on a Tuesday. Will on a Friday.)

If you are missing your fix of the world’s coolest kid, check this out.

– Restless night, restless morning. Played with Will and rested.
– Cramping all night/morning (normal), turned “regular” around 3pm. Gentle contractions, 10-15 secs long, about 4 minutes apart. Took a shower and enjoyed the water, laid down for a nap.
– Still crampy/contracting, feeling fine. Took a walk outside after nap time, played with Will.
– Went out for CB dinner with the family, still feeling good. Still having mild contractions.

My money is still on Paul’s bday (Friday the 5th) but it would not be a surprise for things to start earlier!

Interesting turn of events in the dissertation department. My Peruvian advisor/committee member/mentor extraordinaire, Valerie, is moving back to the States at the end of the summer. This radically changes plans for us, since she was the biggest draw of Lima as a dissertation study location. More and more, I’m drawn to the idea of studying Latino issues in post-K NOLA. This has always been an area of interest for me (immigration, labor, and health) and is certainly a timely issue for an area in a crossroads. Whether hormonal, emotional, political, or circumstance, the thought of staying domestic for the next few years has brought out a strong sense of American Consumption.

In other words, I have the “I wants.” It’s not a particularly long list, but it’s a doosy. I’m so embarrassed.

– A minivan. Either the Odyssey or Sienna, fully loaded (of course), 2004 or newer.
– I want to see our house dreams (ie: renovation) realized. In my lifetime.