39 week update!

Here we are at the very end (I never thought this time would actually come!) and so I wanted to try and blog a few more times before our wee little one arrives.  I know that once he's here it will be even harder for me to blog, but I would like to think that I'll find time to share tidbits of our new life as parents once we're on the other side.

So while I don't feel that I necessarily have anything terribly profound to write about today, I would like to update those who tune in to hear about my pregnancy.  I'm officially 39 weeks and READYYYY!  Shoot, I've been ready.  And let's be honest, I've looked ready since I was about 23 weeks pregnant and now I just look like I'm seriously going to POP at any moment.  Everywhere I go people warn me "not to get any ideas" by going into labor (as if I'm REALLY hoping/plotting/planning to start labor while negotiating car prices at a car dealership or picking out ice cream at the grocery store?).  So yeah, needless to say everyone within earshot is happy to comment on how ready I appear.  I guess the major waddle with heavy breathing and stopping for hard braxton hicks to pass every few feet doesn't really help my case!

{Looking surprised at my 'about to popness' at week 38}

And speaking of car dealerships, our nesting went into full force this last weekend as we purchased a new SAFE car for our family! I could NOT be, nor have I ever been, SO excited about a car.  She is so beautiful and did I mention safe? She drives so smoothly and has all these fun extras like touch screen this and that, voice activated this and that, backup camera, and she even pairs to my phone which just then comes over the whole car like the voice of God or something.  It's HEAVEN.  I literally just go out to the new car for long stretches of time (while I still have long stretches of time) and sit, listening to the amazing music that streams directly from my phone's itunes-- a major upgrade from the horrible radio station choices I was once forced to fiddle between.  Now I realize that others out there have true "luxury" cars, but for me, THIS is luxury!  Andy laughs at me as I constantly go to the window just to look out at her.  I wish I had a pic of my old clunker to prove the major bump up (ha no pun intended) from what I used to drive, but here is our newest arrival:  

{Look at this beaut!  Can you hear those angels singing like I can?}

{Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!}

I digress... back to pregnancy:  So my cervix is currently nice and soft... 80% effaced (yay compared to literally zilch at 37 weeks), it's now central rather than posterior, baby's head has moved down lower (-1 station.. he was -2 last check), but alas I'm only a finger tip dilated (though I was completely closed last time).  While I'm not surprised, being a first timer who's cervix has never opened before and seems to want to hold on to this baby for dear life, I HAVE been doing all that I can to help ripen 'er up for the big day.  In my own experience as a doula I've seen SO many moms work sooooo very hard for sooooo very long (already in labor I mean) just to get that cervix ripe enough to even begin dilating!  This is why we say that the longest phase is early labor.. trying to get that cervix to 4 cm because it ALSO has all that thinning, and positioning and softening to do in the meantime.  SO.. I've been taking  Dr. Christopher's Birth Prep since 34 weeks (amazing stuff people, check into it if you're pregnant!), I've been ingesting and vaginally inserting 1300mg of Evening Primrose Oil since late 36 weeks as well as drinking plenty of red raspberry leaf tea. I CAN say that the methods are working in terms of toning my uterus... boy are those Braxton Hicks strong and long and hard as a rock!  I'm definitely NOT one of these people that either doesn't get any or has no clue that they are having them.  They are VERY very obvious... and oddly, I love it!  I just started rubbing clary sage and rosemary essential oils on my belly and also adding them to baths along with castor oil packs on my belly for softening.  (Not to be confused with ingesting castor oil).  Good old fashioned sex and nipple stimulation are also beneficial, though sadly not the most comfortable at this stage of the game.  I find myself only able to lay there like a beached whale, but I'll try to spare people that awful image.  Sorry.  On a tastier note, my friend gave me a recipe for Eggplant Parmesan that is "guaranteed" to send mama's into labor within 48 hours! I don't plan to try it out until Sunday night since my amazing photographer and kindred spirit (Ali Caudill) is unavailable over the weekend (how dare other people go and get married using MY photographer when I'm busy trying to have a baby here!)  ;)  All in all I know that this little guy will come when he's good and ready.  It's not about me pushing him to get outta there, but more about me prepping my body so that WHEN he decides it's time I will hopefully have less work to do!

So the last few days my contractions were crampier, I had a little blood after my exam yesterday (though that's normal after an exam at this point in the game so I can't really attribute it to actual bloody show), and last night I felt a bit nauseous with my contractions.  I'd like to think that it's just helping my body to prepare for the big day!  My baby's fetal position still changes... some moments he's LOA (rarely though and THAT'S the position I'd prefer he'd choose!), some moments he's ROA,  and often he slinks back to OP.  Darn it!  (If you're unfamiliar with fetal positioning and would like to know what the heck I'm talking about, visit: www.spinningbabies.com ). I do feel confident that he'll rotate in labor, if not just before... I don't know why, but I just feel ok about everything.

And that brings me to my mental state.  I'm really finally ready.  I don't feel so anxious like I did about a month ago.  I've been doing as much work in that department as I can and I truly feel at ease with all of it.  That doesn't mean that I just know how my birth will unfold.  I don't.  But I do trust that everything that happens is unfolding perfectly in it's own way (even if it's not part of the life script, or birth script, that I may have written) and so I can trust that I am surrounded by the Love and that everyone who arrives to support me is exactly who is meant to be there and every scenario that unfolds is exactly as it should be.  Whenever I put life into perspective that way it eases off SO much pressure.  All that control we try to have as we venture into the unknowns can be exhausting!  When I stay present and just TRUST, then I know that everything will be as it should be... no matter what that looks like.

So that's where I am!  Hoping this little guy will make his appearance sooner rather than later as we are SO excited to finally meet him, but I also know that if he's anything like me he'll be taking his sweet time!

{Photo taken from my midwife at my last appointment.... feeling relaxed and excited! :)}

Anxiety rearing her ugly head

Anxiety, the nature of the mind, and how powerful and potentially paralyzing it can be...  

This post began as more of a journal entry for me to work out some of my thoughts, but I quickly realized that others may benefit if they happen to be sharing in the same experience.. (basically why I post all of the topics that I do, no matter how uncomfortable or awkward they may be).  

First a little history (ok, a lot) about me:  When I was 9 years old I started having panic attacks.  Randomly at night I would have them while lying in bed trying to falls asleep, but instead of sleeping my mind went to over-thinking and allowing my 9 year old imagination to run off with its best (aka worst) ideas.  Oddly, at such a young age, it was often the fear that I was dying that sent me into a panic.  This went on for many years and I actually never told anyone for fear that they would either think I was crazy or take me to a doctor who would actually prove that I was crazy, or worse, actually dying.  (Quite a lot to take on for a little gal!)  Those who knew me never would have guessed... I was a free spirited little girl who talked too much in school and often laughed such hearty laughs that I could barely catch my breath! At night, however, when all was quiet and dark... my anxiety would rear her ugly head.  Then when I was 15 years old it all came out.  Teenage hormones played a huge part, and my sister (with whom I was very close) leaving the nest for college (ie. a huge life changing event) sent me over the edge.  I started having panic attacks all the time, day and night...at school, in public, everywhere.  I became agoraphobic which made going to school everyday a HUGE stressor. My attendance began to suffer... I literally couldn't bring myself to step foot inside. The only place where I felt safe was in my home so everywhere else quickly got crossed off the "willing to go there" list.  This didn't last very long (obviously it couldn't or I would have flunked out of school) as my parents noticed right away and I finally opened up to them about what I'd been dealing with for the last 6 years.  My mother was shocked and saddened that I hadn't told her sooner.  After unloading on her, I realized that the last thing she thought was that I was crazy!  In fact, in telling her everything I learned that she too had struggled with anxiety her whole life as had my grandmother.  What an "aha moment"!  I felt like 100 lbs had been lifted from my chest that day which immediately changed my relationship with my parents.  (I quickly went to the other extreme, realizing that if I talked about everything on my mind then I didn't have to bottle up my anxiety... hence why I'm quite the "open" person today!) My parents took me to see a doctor, which of course I disagreed with in fear that he would want to send me to a psychiatric ward.  Much to my surprise, however, he didn't seem to think that I was crazy either. I actually learned that anxiety disorder was incredibly common.  He sent me home with a prescription for Prozac (I'll touch on the meds in a moment) which at the time saved me.  In no time I wasn't panicking any longer, I was back in school like a normal teenager, and I was excelling in most areas.  In the years that followed I was able to find my voice (literally) and went on to earn a degree in Vocal Performance followed by performing professionally for many years as well. Not to pat myself on the back, but going from not being able to walk into school to being in the spotlight on stage (and actually liking it) was a pretty big leap if I do say so myself!

Now about the meds: During college I had an "on again/off again" relationship with the ol' Prozac.  I didn't want to be medicated anymore and often felt emotionally numb while on medication yet also felt uneasy if I wasn't.  Finally, after years of relying on meds, I decided it wasn't for me and wanted to take a more holistic approach.  I wanted to overcome my fears without relying on medication and wanted to develop a deeper understanding of the nature of the mind so that I could use my mind to my benefit rather than putting a band-aide over my 'problems'.  And so the journey of self discovery began.  Now obviously this route wasn't the easy way, but it meant so much more to me to really tap into my fears, my ego, and to learn about that little voice that so often likes to get the best of us. I wanted to better understand all of it so that I could allow it to be just that:  my mind and not my boss.  Along the way, I have to say that I've grown so much as a person due to this... more compassionate, understanding, empathetic, and openminded to all walks of life because of this "disorder" (not really a huge fan of that word).  Don't get me wrong, I'm not perfect.. not even close... just much more aware.

The weaning of medication was very freeing for me.  It led me to a much healthier lifestyle... one where I now hate taking medication and tend to avoid it at all costs unless absolutely necessary.  I tend to lean more towards vitamins, natural remedies, and prevention over quick fixes and 'band-aides'.  Perhaps this is why I landed in the field of natural childbirth and holistic healing.  I do believe that the body is very powerful as is the mind and all too often we reach for "a little something" to make life easier.  At the same time I'm incredibly grateful that we have medicine for when we truly need it.  At 15 I desperately needed medication in order to function as I wasn't emotionally ready to take on the work of understanding a life of anxiety without it.

Now why on earth am I writing about this on a blog about pregnancy and childbirth?  Because much to my surprise, Lil' Miss Anxiety has reared her ugly head during this special time for me!  The one time of my life that I have SO looked forward to is trying to bring up all my sh*t!  While I never expected it initially, I'm truly not that surprised as this journey has unfolded.  Hormones; this being a major life changing event; the unknowns of how labor, delivery, and parenthood will unfold; the desire for control; feeling the changes in my body and health; and on and on... all play a huge part!  I won't go into the specifics of every little fear that I've conjured in my mind.  From hearing tragic birth stories to feeling random twinges and knowing what they could mean, my mind seems to want to choose worry as it's 'go-to' these days.  I guess the part that has struck me as odd is that this is what I do for a living... I normalize the process of birth for my clients each and every day, and yet here I am fearing the worst for myself!  Many often say "oh you'll have such a great birth because you already know so much about it!"... yes, this could be true, but that tiny voice in my mind often chimes in, "you also know more than the average joe about what could go wrong so maybe ignorance really is bliss?". I often work really well with moms who struggle with anxiety because I've always been able to put myself in their shoes and know what I would need in order to stay calm if it were me, yet here I am now needing a taste of my own holistic medicine!

I will say that anxiety, thus far, has taken on a new form from what it was years ago.  The over-thinking and worry are still there, and the what-if's are there... so from time to time I find myself just needing to stop and take some nice cleansing breaths.  Thankfully, however, I'm not in full blown panic-attack-mode at all.  For the most part I'm able to recognize my pattern as that little seed of doubt or worry is planted and I am able notice as the weeds begin to grow into over-thinking and anxiety. So what to do? I go in and pull those weeds one by one rather than letting them build up.  I stop myself and breathe first and foremost, and then I ask myself what I'm so afraid of.  I isolate the fear of the moment and then I make a choice.  I can run off with that fear and let it build or I can choose a state of calm. I ask myself "what is your story right now?  Are you okay RIGHT NOW?" Rather than drifting off into a place where I imagine my fears play out, I bring myself back to the present as assess whether I am currently okay.  And if I must imagine the 'what-if's' playing out, I try to choose peace.  Even in those worst case scenarios (ie. death of myself or my baby) I can choose to imagine myself either panicking from it or being calm in those moments.  I would like to think, as much as I don't like to think about death, that I could somehow be at peace when the time does come.  And I would like to think that no matter what is thrown our way as an outcome of this birth, that I can find peace with it as long as I am surrounded by The Love/God.  It doesn't mean that I won't have pain, suffering, or grief in my life (though of course I'd like to be blessed with a path of least suffering!), but that in those times I'll feel surrounded by the Love and feel a sense of calm.

I find that fear just robs us of a beautiful experience.  Taking the time to worry or think up every possible scenario (which I have often done) doesn't change the outcome but rather makes the present much less enjoyable.  We do have a choice and if all we focus on are our doubts or fears then we miss the ride. And don't even get me started on the adrenaline response to anxiety that our babies feel!  I try to remind myself of this every time that little wheel starts to turn in my mind.  My baby deserves a peaceful environment and while anxiety may be hereditary, I don't have to bathe my baby in it constantly!  "Babies born into calm tend to be calm".  Deep breaths, meditation, prayer, and positive thinking are my chosen anxiety busters... oh, and talking it out :)  

Childbirth and motherhood are a ride that I've wanted to take for as long as I can remember, and as my own delivery date approaches I'm doing my best to choose peace... the same peace in which I've always trusted with each and every mom that I've helped along the way.  I have no idea how my own birth will unfold, but I do know that I can be at peace with however it happens, trusting in God's plan for myself and my baby, just one cleansing breath at a time.  For now I choose to listen to only one 'what-if' amongst the many that race through my mind:  What if it all goes beautifully?

Oh the nosebleeds!

As I sit here with a tissue hanging out my nostril for what feels like the millionth time, I figured I'd write about the always untimely experiences of pregnancy nosebleeds.

First I should mention that nosebleeds during pregnancy are quite common, and as long as they are minor are usually considered "normal".  Why?  Basically the blood vessels throughout your body expand due to increased blood volume in pregnancy.  This increase in blood supply mixed with all of those fun pregnancy hormones causes those delicate little capillaries in your nose to rupture more easily.  {Read more here} No biggie right?

Except when you're me, and you already have a history of nosebleeds, and you're at a birth about to bleed all over a laboring mama!!!

You see it all began about 10 years ago, in my early twenties, as I stood on my parents' back porch one fine spring day.  I had just gotten over a cold (or maybe I still had it...hard to recall) and I wanted a bit of fresh air. I tried to take in a nice whiff (apparently with all my might), sniffing heartily, and boom went the dynamite.  My first nosebleed ever.  I was shocked as I ran in the house trying to get to the nearest tissue.  Little did I know this one lone broken capillary in my right nostril would become my nemesis for many years to come.

After that day I seemed to get repeated nosebleeds.  Always the same nostril, always the same little capillary.  I was still performing professionally at the time (for those that don't know, I have a background in music, dance, and theatre...)  and I remember often feeling the bubble of panic arise on stage as I wondered if I was about to have to incorporate a bloody nose into the story of such refined characters as Guenevere in Camelot!  Needless to say I developed a slight sense of paranoia around the whole bloody-nose-at-inopportune-times-thing.

I finally went to an ENT and had the little booger (no pun int) cauterized.  This helped for a few years but even the ENT said it may require repeat cauterizations.  Once the bloody noses returned they were truly few and far between, so I didn't worry with a second procedure.

But now here I am... pregnant and the flood gates just keep opening!  A few weeks ago I was at a birth and I had 3, count them T-H-R-E-E, nosebleeds at the most inopportune times!  The first time I was leaning over the mom applying pressure to her aching back and suddenly I felt the fast drip in the all too familiar nostril.  I quickly cupped my hand under my nose, unsure of a real nosebleed or just paranoia, and was able to catch 'er in time confirming my suspicions as blood started to fill my hand.  "Ugh", I thought... "seriously?!  Right NOW??"... I ran to the restroom and plopped in the floor stuffing tissue up my nose, thankful for a relatively quick mend.

A few hours later, the mom was laboring in a huge bathtub and I was leaning way in to reach her.  (Starting to realize my pattern of leaning over, aka more pressure to my head, aka you get the idea...)  Next thing I knew that familiar fast drip appeared again, and thankfully I was able to cup my hand and catch the stream JUST before my blood dripped into her water!  (I don't even want to think about having to get her out, drain the tub, and refill it had that blood made contact!)  Again, I was grateful to be aware enough of that all too familiar feeling so that I could quickly get out of harms way.

And finally, on the drive to the hospital later that day, I felt it yet AGAIN.  "ARE YOU KIDDING ME???," I'm pretty sure I hollered aloud.  While driving a stick-shift in busy northern VA traffic, I quickly scrounged for a tissue, or a sock, or...shoot I'd take anything absorbent!  I was able to find 3 Starbucks napkins in my glove compartment... so crusty and painful, I stuffed one into my nose pressing as hard as I could, but unfortunately this one wasn't stopping!  We arrived at the hospital and I had to send the parents ahead of me... I sat for 20 minutes, soaking every bit of all 3 napkins with my loveliness.

Once I joined the couple inside the hospital, their midwife immediately stuck out her hand to introduce herself... I felt so rude as I explained I needed to wash my hands first... that I'd just had a nosebleed in the car... and wanting to make sure she didn't think I'm some sort of coke addict or something I added, "because I'm pregnant".  She quickly gave me 'that look' of understanding saying, "oh yes... those nosebleeds during pregnancy are the worst, huh?"  Feeling the slightest bit validated I continued on with my work, thankfully blood free for the rest of the evening, though tasting a throat-full of bloody metallic yumminess.  As annoying as it was, to say the least, I'm happy to say I was able to walk away that night without truly interfering with the birth!

I'm not so excited to admit that I've had a nosebleed at every single birth since then except for one!  Somehow my nose just knows! Though thankfully, thus far, I'm always able to feel that crazy fast drip just in the nick of time so that I can sink back, fix the problem, and go on relatively unnoticed.  Last night at a birth dad came in the room to see tissues hanging out of my nose (a look that's starting to feel like part of my regular attire) and he asked if mama had punched me in the face!

While I sit here now... nose stuffed with tissue and that bloody-throaty-taste yet again... I think to myself that I'll be calling an ENT asap to get this sucker cauterized!  All joking aside, I actually think to myself that I'll gladly endure another, and another, and well... as many as necessary as it reminds me each and every time of the beautiful miracle of life that I get to be a part of and all the sacrifices mothers make for their children every day.  For that, words can not express how strangely honored and proud I actually feel... dangling tissue and all!

What do we really know?

It's been almost a week now and I am finally able to sit and share a recent experience that brought new meaning to the word faith.  I choose to write about this because it's not only therapeutic for me, but also because in my own agony I was unable to find ANY answers to help me.  Hopefully this will help someone else find hope in their despair.

On Thursday Feb. 2nd, Andy and I went in for our 8 week ultrasound.  Mainly ecstatic about getting to hear/see the little click of our baby's heartbeat and slightly nervous about the unknowns of what could be found, we headed to the hospital during Andy's lunch break.  In good spirits we went into the sonogram room, I laid on the table, scooted my bottom to the very edge, and placed my feet in the stirrups (I hate that part!).  The doctor proceeded to insert what I like to call the "white-Bob Barker microphone looking thing" or more appropriately termed, the "electronic array transvaginal transducer" inside me (check the links.. they really do look similar!)  It didn't take long for the good spirits and joking to subside.  The doctor stayed positive, saying that everything looked great, but that our baby was definitely not 8 weeks... but rather measuring only 5-6 weeks.  My heart sank.  He quickly said that our dates must be off, but I knew this could NOT be the case.  Not only did we chart with temperatures and use ovulation predictor kits, but we also travelled just after our last time together and I was away from Andy until just days before we got our positive pregnancy test!!  I explained that this couldn't be accurate... by his measurements my baby was basically conceived AFTER our positive test?!  Ummmmm.... this wasn't good.  Knowing me already through my work as a birth doula, the Dr. was prepared to chat with me about what on earth could be going on.  He knew that the questions would immediately start flowing and indeed they did.  He told me that he knew that  I "know too much" about how this stuff works (yet not nearly enough in my opinion) and so he was willing to tell me more than he would normally share with most patients. (Not that he wouldn't normally give full disclosure to a patient with questions, but he said that he would normally just decide the dates were off and move on.. no worries.  He knows that I was diligent with our fertility especially having had regular periods, and knows that it's unlikely for me to be WEEKS wrong.. so we chatted long and hard over this). He agreed that being so fixed on those dates made things quite questionable and decided that we should return in a week to see if the pregnancy was looking viable.  I asked him if this was like ultrasounds later in pregnancy, often substantially off when calculating weight and even due dates... he replied that 'no, in early pregnancy these things are incredibly accurate... even to the day'.  "OH!"  I asked, "are you measuring age from conception?? Then this would be completely accurate", and he said "no, unfortunately I'm dating the entire gestational age from your last menstrual period." I went on to ask many questions about miscarriage, his own potential margin of error, and also asked if he'd ever seen an embryo measure 5-6 weeks one week but to then find an accurate up-to-date measurement one week later?  He quickly said, "no... never that far off." After about 500 other technical questions, my heart began to break as I was grasping for answers.  You may ask why was my heart breaking?  Hello Juli, he said everything looked fine, it's just younger! Stop worrying!!  Because I knew what the alternative could be and so did he.  Our baby could have stopped growing at only 5-6 weeks (it was too small at this point to make out a heartbeat) and unfortunately only time would reveal whether or not this pregnancy was going to be viable.  We made the appointment to return in a week to see if there would be any change.  We left the hospital parting ways as Andy had to return to work.... though Andy's spirits never fell.  He was incredibly positive about it, and that never wavered, but when I repeatedly did the math it just didn't add up. At all.


I called my mother on the drive home.  Excitedly awaiting my call with my father, (and both expecting good news) she answered the phone squealing, "CAN I PUT YOU ON SPEAKER?!!!"....... With a wobbly voice I could barely choke out the word, "no" before I lost it.  Immediately I was bombarded with her questions, "WHAT IS IT?  WHAT'S WRONG JULI...... {my sobs}.....{waiting}..... WELL TELL ME!".  I couldn't speak... hearing my mother's voice only reminded me of how badly I wanted a turn at being a mother myself.... and so all I could do was cry.  I did my best to pull it together and told her of what had just happened.

My mother decided to come visit that coming Sunday... she would stay the week to help distract me and hopefully cheer me up.  The next few days leading up to her arrival were horrible.  I searched the internet constantly (always a terrible idea) desperately seeking some small nugget of hope...hoping to find someone else who had been through what I was going through, ideally with a happy outcome.  I did find MANY stories just like mine when googling "8 weeks pregnant but sonogram measuring only 5-6 weeks".   Unfortunately, however, the responses were never quite the same  situation and most weren't even good outcomes.  The ones that did turn out ok after their one week wait all said "but my periods are incredibly irregular so I guess we had our dates wrong."  Nope.. I couldn't have my dates wrong.  On to the next option.  Then I read, "either your dates are wrong or there is something wrong with your baby".  Plain and simple.  My heart seriously sank into my uterus.  Why couldn't I find ANYTHING saying that the darned sonogram COULD be wrong???  Maybe the measurements were off???  I did read somewhere that sonograms were "incredibly accurate, especially in the first trimester, within a 1-2 week range."  Um, last time I checked 1-2 WEEKS is NOT accurate!!! So that helped a smidge.  I also wondered how many people actually challenged their doctor when these findings were present?  I mean, how many women TRULY know when they ovulated or last did the deed to even prove that these measurements can be off? Most women just went on with their new dates and end up delivering 2 weeks early!  Some definitely did know their dates... and in many of the stories that I found, these women were going along with their doctor's seemingly off measurements but their main concern was in trying to convince their spouses that the baby was theirs!! They knew they hadn't been intimate (with each other anyway) during the newly proposed conception time and so husbands were looking at their wives with a skeptical eye!  Ok, that honestly does stink... especially if these people have been faithful to one another, but infidelity is SO not even close to on our minds right now!  The other women that felt strongly that their newly calculated dates were impossible ended up going back a week later to find that their baby had indeed stopped growing, that they had a missed miscarriage... then to go on to have a D&C or to finally pass the baby on their own.  The thought of these options just devastated me... to the point of feeling sick to my stomach.

Speaking of being sick to your stomach... I had been having regular nausea since just before 6 weeks up to our appointment.  Thankfully I wasn't vomiting, but I felt pretty crummy every day and the doctor was happy about this.  He was also happy that the yolk sac looked nice and healthy as did the embryonic sac.  "Normally," he said the yolk sac would start to collapse if the pregnancy was beginning to take an unfavorable turn.  But of course the second I left his office my nausea completely subsided.  Was it mental?  I assumed it had to be because there was no way it would just turn off like a light switch... especially if my baby had stopped growing WEEKS before.  That gave me hope, but I was paranoid and desperately wishing for my nausea to return.  I mashed my breasts non-stop to see if they were still tender.  They weren't.  I woke the next day crying because I just didn't "feel" pregnant at all anymore.  I felt heartbroken and empty.  As each morning came I awoke with that sinking feeling of heartbreak... the "oh yeah, this is really happening" feeling as I felt so sad and depressed.  After I obsessively computed the numbers over and over again in my head I just didn't feel good about the outcome.  Waiting a week was excruciating.  Hearing everyone say, "stop worrying, it's not healthy for the baby" was incredibly frustrating. "Yes, I KNOW that worrying isn't good for myself or the baby," I thought, "but I'm worried sick and everyone flippantly telling me NOT to worry is adding a TON of pressure... it's making me worry about the fact that I'm worried!" Needless to say, this was exhausting.

After a few days of my autonomic nervous system operating in hyperdrive, I realized that I had to make a change.  I had to pull it together... I had to have some faith in this little one, in my husband who seemed to be so sure of his gut, and most importantly in that oh so powerful higher power. Maybe we aren't meant to understand.  Maybe we think we have our science down to a "T" but in reality these little babies are miracles being created each and every day... why does mine have to fit into a specific scientific mold?  We are all human, the doctor is human... we all make mistakes, maybe the doctor made a mistake?  Machines make mistakes... maybe it was the technology?  I had to finally just give up and trust in miracles or I was going to go crazy.  I definitely grieved... I tried my very best to prepare myself for the worst outcome and then decided to put that away on a shelf.  I decided that I wanted to be positive for my baby.  While the advice was annoying I also knew it was true.  My baby needed a healthy environment to grow and I don't want it born into a little nervous wreck because it's mommy was such a hot mess! Every single time I went to the bathroom (and still do) I checked for blood... turning on lights in the middle of the night to quickly glance at the toilet paper, thankfully able to breathe out a sigh of "still ok" every time.  So needless to say the thoughts NEVER left my mind, but what I did with the thoughts had to change.

First I banned myself from the internet.  I wasn't allowed to look up threads on the topic or read for hours upon hours the sad stories that I was so dreading for myself.  No more.  I then sent out emails and phone calls to those that I knew would pray for us (telling details to the few who knew I was pregnant, and to the others just asking for prayer and positive thoughts in general).  I knew that I needed all the prayer I could get... one way or the other... and it was time to really turn to faith in God.  To trust that I would be given the strength, patience, and peace to get through this no matter what the outcome. I started connecting with my baby again.. the way I had before this dreadful scare... talking to my baby, laughing with my baby, singing to my baby, telling my baby stories, and praying and meditating with my baby.  I told my little one that I wasn't going to give up on her/him... that I'm here to fight for her/him and that I wanted "herm" (my combination of her/him) to grow at it's own pace, no rush, to be 'hermself' and that I will always love 'herm' for being an individual.  This made me feel better. It didn't give me answers but it did give me hope.

Then my mother came to town cooking us yummy dinners, talking me through my worries, laughing with me, and praying every day with me when my emotions began to creep back in.  Being mothered was what I needed and I will always treasure the time that I had with her that week..... mothering the mother like I do with my own clients.  And Andy... he was a rock.  At first I was frustrated... WHY wasn't he worried with me?  Did he not care???  When I expressed this he said, "OF COURSE I care more than anything Juli, and come Friday if things don't look good THEN I'll be devastated and I'll be worried... but right now I feel great about it, and one of us has to be strong for our baby!"  I told him that I hoped to God that he was right and that I would GLADLY say it over and over again if we were to learn of good news.  But my heart still sank when I thought of that upcoming Dr's visit.

I dreaded Friday with everything in me and yet Friday couldn't come soon enough.  I wanted answers but I didn't want it to be over.  I didn't want someone to say that this was the end for us.  Friday morning arrived as I knew it eventually would, and at around 10am I received a call from the receptionist saying that the Dr. was out of surgery early and wondered if I could come in sooner.  My heart skipped a beat... I quickly called Andy and we planned to meet there at 11am.  I jumped in the shower, shaved as fast as I could (didn't want anyone down there with it looking so frightful!) and jumped in the car.  On the way over my heart was pounding in my chest... literally.  Thankfully my mother was in the car with me and was able to talk me down.  This was it.  The suspense was poisonous.

Upon arrival they asked me to leave a urine sample.  I went to the restroom and am pretty sure that I stopped breathing for a few moments as I found a small amount of blood in my underwear :(  I panicked.  "Seriously??? NO blood thus far and now it's here???" I looked closer and noticed it was along the side of my underwear instead of where any fluids or discharge would be.  It hit me... "aha! my quick shaving job!  I must have cut myself!?" I was literally bent over in the bathroom craning forward to see if I could find the root of this menacing blood!  I wiped again and again but nothing was on the toilet paper.  I took a deep breath and thought... "you've got to calm down, you'll know either way in a minute."

The nurse took me back to get my weight and blood pressure.  I told her the blood pressure was pointless as I knew it would be through the roof.  The Dr. stopped in to see how I was doing... I told him that I was about to have a heart attack most likely!  He felt my pulse as the nurse took my blood pressure and he quickly commented, "you're going to blow a vessel if you keep at it like this!" 136/72... very high for me (it was 100/60 only a few weeks before). He knew I was beyond scared.  He said that he understood... and for us to hope for the best but be prepared for the worst... that we had a 50/50 chance..  'Reeeeallyy??? Only 50/50?'  Gulp... (I was hoping for more like 80/20).  As the doctor walked me back to the room and the nurse went to grab Andy and my mother, he asked if there had been any blood.  I inhaled my embarrassment, not expecting that question, and sheepishly told him that I just found some in the restroom but "um... I think I cut myself shaving..."  (Apparently I really am all about full disclosure!) ... he chuckled and quickly said "ouch!"

Next thing I knew that same room we'd been in the week prior became dark and I was scooting my bottom toward the very edge of the table and sending my feet to those darned stirrups all over again.  The crunchy-paper-cover-thingy was over me and I swear I could see it lifting as my heart began to POUND harder than ever.  I put my hand over my chest... sent a quick prayer upstairs, and asked my heart (aloud) to please calm down.  Andy stood by my side holding my hand while my mother waited in the corner.  The doctor explained that he would go in with the "Bob Barker Mic" (my words not his), take a look around, and then tell me what he'd found.  He had the screen pointed towards him.  "UGH..." I thought, "he'll be in there forever before he says what's happening..." I just wanted to cry.

Within seconds of Bob Barker's mic entry, I heard these words:  "Juli... looks like you've got a big baby in there!"  "WAIT... WHAT??  I DO????", I cried while grabbing his screen and pulling it my way without even asking.    "Yep!  Look!"  Right there before my eyes was my very own sweet little blessing.  My answered prayers.  I cry as I write this remembering my precious little miracle dancing right there for us.  Last week's barely-there fetal pole (aka a small line that faded in and out) turned into a small baby... a head, body, hands, feet, and I could swear I could see indentions of eyes, ears and a tiny little nose!!  The Dr. prodded at my uterus with The Bob Barker and the little one danced in response!  It was almost like he/she was saying "Hi mommy and daddy... see here I am!  I'll even do a dance for you, just pwease don't be sad!!!" The best part... there was a beautiful clicking heart beat that I so longingly dreamed of seeing!!  The doctor then chuckled saying, "Andy... I would go ahead and check that calendar if I were you!" but before we could dispute any dates he measured a 9 week baby!  This was exactly spot on with my original calculations (so being right about one thing might have been the second best thing about it)!  As I teasingly slapped the Dr's arm, I told him not to ever do that to me again, that he scared the.... (well let's be honest) he scared the sh*t outta me!  I asked "what the HECK happened???"  He looked at me and said, "honestly Juli I have no idea, but a LOT can happen in a week!".  I cried my eyes out, laughed a hearty laugh, and quickly (and gladly) told Andy that he was right :)

The mood immediately lifted.  We were able to bring home our first photo of our little one and Andy video'd the moment we learned that our little blessing was ok!  I'm not blaming anyone, but I want people to know that these things CAN BE OFF!  If you find yourself in our shoes, it does NOT necessarily mean that 1) your dates are wrong or 2) you're baby stopped growing.  I always say you're never out of the woods until you have a baby in your arms, but on THIS particular issue, I am happy to say that our baby defied the odds... whether by miracle or by human/mechanical error.  And when the Dr. said that he had "never" seen a baby measure 5-6 weeks and then "catch up" to 9... I do believe he can now say he has!

{Our little 9 week bean!}

"Welcome to parenthood!", another doula friend of mine said to me (she has 9 kids of her own!).  The immense worry and love and fear that comes along with babies is blinding and it's only just beginning!  I now realize that for me to get through life joyously, and to be the best mother I can be, I have to stay committed to counting my blessings each and every day and having faith that this whole procreation thing is OH SO very outside of our realm of understanding.... despite what we may think.  After this experience, I can be ok with that.

Saved by the husband!

So I'd like to start by disclaiming that the following is really embarrassing.  For me.  But I figure I didn't get to hear (much) about this symptom so I may as well share it so that somebody else won't feel so bad!  I'd also like to disclaim that this, while coming across as a 'complaint', is a welcome part of pregnancy, as I realize there are many out there (including myself) who would do anything to feel symptoms of pregnancy if it meant that a baby was at the end of the tunnel!

So with all of that said... I have gas.  And I'm not talking about a toot here and there.  I'm saying, BOY do I REALLY have gas.  You hear about nausea, yeah I've had that too but it's to be expected and thus far has been pretty manageable.  I have to pee all the time too... but again I expected this.  My breasts are sore and crazy itchy.  Expected that.  I'm also quite bloated to the point where sadly at only 6 weeks I looked about 5 months pregnant, and yes, I'm even a bit constipated.  (I told you this would be embarrassing for me... but what on earth is interesting about pretending or even lying that pregnancy is always pleasant and predictable?). But what I did NOT expect, or at least never to this end, was this gas!

It began in very early pregnancy... I mean even before I had taken a test.  Suddenly I had this bloated, full, gassy feeling that once unleashed would easily clear a room... or perhaps even an entire store.  Mortified by what my body was suddenly able to create, I initially giggled and knew that this must be a good sign!  However I will say that weeks upon weeks (ok months now) have passed... (ha. no pun intended) and so continues my gas!  The odd thing is that every morning I'm just fine again... I have a relatively normal day, (aside from that first trimester nausea) and then BOOM:  4pm hits and I have this sudden, uncontrollable urge, every 2-5 minutes to pass the worst smell in the entire world that lasts well into the middle of the night!  My poor husband is about to take up an 8 month lease in a hotel or something.  The dogs love it, which helps me to feel that their love is truly unwavering, but that's just gross :)

So why am I sharing this?  Well for a few reasons.  As I said, I didn't expect this to be such a debilitating symptom, and of course my friends, my sister, and my mother (you know, the close people you would dare ask) all said "nope.. didn't have that one"... so I figure if I can share it then it's out there for others to know:  It is VERY MUCH a HUGE symptom!  I'm also sharing it because it's quite funny if you think about it and I enjoy laughing at life's bloopers.  I'm scheduling my days and appointments around when I am least likely to seep one out without being able to control myself... literally thinking as I check my calendar if I take that appointment will I have THE gas at that time??  And I think about how I'll excuse myself during births every 2 minutes while a mother is laboring away... only to drag the horrific odor back into the room with me upon my return!  Talk about nausea!  (I'm thankful to report that somehow I've yet to need to pass gas at a birth!)

And if you're actually still reading this, I'll end with a funny little story.  You know your husband loves you when he takes the heat (lol again no pun intended but I'm laughing pretty hard over here) for your misfortune.  A few weekends ago we were going out to dinner with some friends of ours.  While Andy and I were driving over to meet at  their house, I accidentally slipped one in the car.  Of course the entire car immediately smelled of a rotten-egged-stink-bomb, and I began apologizing profusely to my husband.  We rolled down the windows, my husband gagging by my side, and went on about our night.  We visited with our friends at their place for about 45 minutes before we all headed out to the restaurant.  Since I can't drink, we decided I would be the driver (aka driving in our car...).  As we walked up to the car I had a sudden thought/fear... oh gosh, what if? what if it's NOT GONE???  I quickly opened my door trying to discreetly sneak a sniff before anyone else could get in the car.  Yep.  As feared, there was an old lingering eggy hot smell hanging out in the car.  Trying to think quickly and trying to pick the lesser of embarrassments, I said, "OH NO honey!  Your little problem sort of stayed in the car!" (Now mind you, this buddy we were with was Andy's old roommate when we met.. aka boys are gross around each other... so I figured I was somewhat safe with this little white lie!) With a glimmer in his eye and a slight smile, Andy said, "oh sorry guys"!  Phhhewww!!! I was completely saved by the husband!  We got in the car and our male friend laughed saying, "yep.. that's an eggy one dude!  I'll make a contribution if you'd like!"  His girlfriend said, "ugh, men...aren't they so gross?!"  I quickly agreed.  Andy winked at me and squeezed my hand, and until now it's been our little secret. So I doubt those friends will stumble upon this blog, but if they do... I guess I've just outed myself :)

To those of you out there who have gas in pregnancy and feel kind of embarrassed and alone... you're not!  To those of you who think I'm completely disgusting and have no intention of ever reading my blog or thinking of me the same way again... well so be it! I'm human and I think honesty in our human existence makes for a much more interesting (even when really embarrassing) life!

This is our month!

Dec. 22nd was an incredibly special day for us.  Two years ago on that day, Andy had asked me to marry him.  This year, already in the Christmas spirit as I was loving the magic and joy in the air, I had a sense of calm over me... This is our month.  I just "knew it" for some strange reason that is truly difficult to explain, but it helped me in trusting that Santa was going to be especially good to us this year.

Oh, I should mention that I've wanted children my whole life.  I've dabbled in a handful of different careers (ok, 2), but the one career I always knew I wanted to have was that of a mother.  So naturally I had fears going in (and still do!) as to whether or not this process would be an easy one for us or a difficult one.  Working in the childbirth community and seeing so many beautiful births unfold, I often heard that fearful voice inside saying, "what if you don't ever get to do this?  What if you can't even get pregnant because you WANT to so badly?"  For years I've wondered this... "would MY body know what to do?"  I always worried that it may take me a long time to get pregnant (for no other reason than fear), so I did a lot of studying and research on fertility well before it was time for us to get crackin'.

You see then, that it comes with great joy and gratitude to say that we didn't have to try for long.  We actually decided we would start trying in November but the idea of "trying" quickly became stressful.  As any good little student of FAM (fertility awareness method) I had been charting my temperatures for months in preparation for November.  Like clockwork every month I would ovulate as I suspected, but then in November... just when I was relying on that very clockwork for our perfectly timed 'baby dance', suddenly I wasn't ovulating at all!  Everyone knows that stress can effect ovulation, and our work became such a chore that I quickly felt like my body just couldn't do it.  All of this coupled with my eventual ovulation date landing on Thanksgiving, while traveling no less, made for a month that we quickly wanted behind us so that we could start fresh!

But then something happened in December.  One day Andy and I were sitting watching TV and we just turned to each other smiling and said, I feel it... this is our month.  In agreement  we were now able to enjoy this process, somehow knowing this was it.  I continued to temp but only periodically.  I enjoyed some wine here and there with dinner and decided to have fun with this rather than stress (cause hey, baby-making should be fun, no?!).  Sure enough, as my fertile week approached, I took an ovulation predictor test and got a positive result the day before Dec. 22nd. (These tests usually 'predict' your ovulation 24-48 hours in advance).  "How exciting", we thought, "two years to the date that we were engaged we might just conceive!"  Like good little students we continued to do our homework* in those next 24 hours and hoped that it would pay off!  The next day (dec. 23rd) my temperature rose indicating that I had indeed ovulated!

*Our "homework" was actually still quite detailed in a somehow relaxed environment. (haha!).  From FAM,  to doing the baby dance every other day, to using Preseed, to ovulation predictor kits, ligament releases, fertility massage, red raspberry leaf tea, keeping my pelvis propped/tilted for approx. 30 minutes, and lots of prayer, positive thinking, and laughter etc. etc. ETC., we were by no means expecting a one hit wonder!

Naturally the next two weeks of waiting before we could test dragged on, though we were lucky to have Christmas and New Years filled with traveling, family, and friends to keep us more distracted than usual.  After charting for as many months as I had, I knew the usual pattern of my luteal phase (the period after ovulation leading up to menstruation) and what it usually did and didn't look like.  So sure enough, on Jan. 2 (only 12 days past ovulation and expected menstruation still 2 more days away) I took my temperature at my usual time of 5:30am.  As I gasped sitting up in the bed,  Andy asked, "what did your temperature do?"... I quickly responded, "it stayed up!".  Now this little tip-off was no sure sign for pregnancy by any stretch of the means, but usually my temp started to take it's little nose dive by this day before my expected period would arrive.  I shot up out of bed and said "I can't take it.. I have to test!".  So I quickly ran to the bathroom, grabbed a test, and wee'd away.  Both of us stood in the bathroom staring at the darned thing with hearts (ok my heart) pounding.  Within about 20-30 LONG seconds I could see the start of a very faint line BESIDE the control line!  "THERE'S A LINE!" I squealed... "um, I can't see one" replied Andy.  "BELIEVE ME, I KNOW WHAT THESE THINGS LOOK LIKE WHEN THERE IS NO LINE... THERE IS TOTALLY A LINE FORMING I TELL YOU!"  After another few minutes there was no question... a definite second line (though still lighter than the control line).  Andy turned to me saying "so wait.. this is it? Is this REALLY it??", as we giggled and jumped up and down hugging in the bathroom.  I quickly suggested (of course) that we take another test.  Andy said we should wait a day for my hormones to increase.  I agreed but I was BUZZING with energy and my mind was racing a million times a minute.  "Great"... I thought, "it's 5:30am and I have NOTHING to do for hours and NO ONE to tell!"... this was gonna be a long but inarguably amazing day!

{I can barely see that second line in this fuzzy picture, but I promise it was there!}

After about 2 hours of laying in bed, heart pounding and eyes wide open,  I finally fell asleep for a little while.  I woke with that all too cliche feeling of pinching myself to see if this was really happening.  I had a full bladder again and I couldn't take the suspense, so I quickly scrambled to the bathroom and decided to use one of those fancy digital tests.  Sure enough, before the allotted time was over, the word Pregnant was staring me in the face.  I immediately took a picture and texted it to Andy saying, "I couldn't wait.  Believe it now?" :)

{!!!!!!!}

So at the end of the day who knows if it was all the hard work that we put in that did the trick, or if we would have conceived just as easily with a one hit wonder... but knowing all that I did know about fertility, I couldn't just sit back and not try just about everything!  I can say that we did have a lot of fun this time around (even if the laundry list of to-do's sounds daunting!) but perhaps that was because we just knew, somehow, that we wouldn't be working on that to-do list for very long!

So I'M actually taking the Journey of the Bump too???!

Well the time has finally come!  Many of my clients, past and present, have often said that they can't wait to hear all about when I take this little ol' Journey of the Bump myself... so here we are!  A sweet little bean has finally decided to set up shop inside of me!! {And by finally, I should say that I mean that I've waited my whole life for this... but when the time came we were blessed to conceive after only our 2nd try!}. I've decided to share this journey through my blog since I think that I have a unique perspective. I am a childbirth professional who knows {and by knows I mean intellectually, intuitively, and through "experience" having studied and worked as a supporter and observer} her fair share not only about the major physical changes this journey brings to a woman's body, but also the hugely transformative experience of the mind, the heart, and the spirit through pregnancy and childbirth.  And yet, with all of this "knowledge" I have never been blessed with the chance, until now, to walk the walk myself (and we all know that talking the talk and walking the walk are two very different things!).  Those of you who know me, even just a tad, know that I am beyond thrilled to be taking a turn at this amazing experience!

So while this won't be published until my husband, Andy, and I decide to "go public" with our news (which means if you're reading this then I've finally made it to my second trimester!!), I've decided to start my blog from...well naturally, the beginning!  While I've decided to pull back on my work load during my pregnancy, I will still be attending births and providing bodywork, so of course I will enjoy sharing these beautiful experiences as one who is taking this journey alongside my clients.   I hope those of you who choose to read along will enjoy this journey with me as my professional perspective shifts, my own motherly fears arise and (hopefully!) subside, and if all goes well...as my own precious little blessing enters this world in his or her very own special way.  Now here we go!