A Mother's Body: Part 1

For the better part of two years, I did not have ownership of my body.  (It was a really, really long two years.)

When we decided to start trying for children, I knew that it would be physically demanding, that I would have to put more effort into my diet and general health, and that I would be limited in what I could do...  But I had no idea what the full impact of carrying a child would be until very recently, until I regained full control over my own body.

(So here is my list of What Mothers Give Up.  And a disclaimer?  It's hard, but worth it a million times over.)

Part 1: Pre-Pregnancy

(This is where the loss of ownership just creeps up on you.)

First, it's a pre-conception check-up, and various normal blood tests and the like.  No biggie.  Then, it's the prenatal vitamins.  With a meal.  Every day.  And there is also the diet changes; more healthy, more well-rounded, more routine, no forgetting to eat.  (I'm terrible at remembering to eat when I'm busy.)  And, of course, cut out the booze (easy), and the pot-a-day coffee habit.  (I went cold-turkey off coffee.  Not fun.)

Then, if you're a control-freak like me, it's the basal temperatures and charting and whatnot.  Which means that you start out your day thinking about getting pregnant.  Every day.  Before you even speak to your spouse or pet the dog.  (It was a bit all-consuming for me.)

And then, to top it all off, there is the waiting.  And the disappointment.  And the exhaustion from the everything.

Part 2:  Success

The day when you see the little pink line is great.  Great.  But it's also when the real feeling of loss of one's body kicks in. 

Exhibit A: Morning sickness.  Morning sickness, my ass.  I spent the better part of ten weeks weakly eating unsalted soup crackers and drinking lemon-ginger tea at my desk, trying to focus on not throwing up on my computer.  It was fan-damn-tastic.  (And I had it relatively easy compared to some women.  I can't imagine dealing with more severe symptoms, ones that last for months.)  It was also a wee bit tricky taking prenatal vitamins on a full stomach when food made my stomach turn.  And eating a well-rounded, healthy diet is, um, impossible when the thought of eating makes you want to hurl.

Exhibit B: Hawaii, baby!  I was about 8 weeks pregnant when we flew to Kauai for a week-long holiday.  It was frustrating.  Firstly, I was feeling kinda ill (see exhibit A).  Secondly, I wasn't allowed to do anything.  (Normally, I'd be scuba-diving.  And going on gruelling hikes.  And surfing.  And zip-lining.  And eating predatory fish.  And something.)  Since I was knocked up, I wasn't allowed to do anything fun.  So we spent most of the week hanging out on the beach, reading, and eating boring food.  It was ok, but it was a meh holiday.

Part 3: The Middle Bit

You know what?  The second trimester and early third trimester was actually pretty awesome.  I was feeling well, I was used to the routine of eating well and taking my vitamins, and I was feeling confident that my body was doing it's job.  (It probably helped that we had been hearing a strong heartbeat, had seen the healthy girl in her 20wk ultrasound pics, I was getting kicked on a regular basis, and we were starting to get really excited.)  So, I was still working hard to maintain a good incubator for my daughter, but it didn't feel like a huge effort for these few months.

Part 4:  The End Bit

I hated the last couple of months of being pregnant.  Hated.

For starters, my appetite through the last 3-4 months of pregnancy was appalling.  I was overcome with cravings.  I could eat an entire box of Cheerios in one sitting and still be hungry.  Once, I even broke down and cried because my appetite was so maddening. 

And the weight gain.  Oh my gawd.  By the end, I weighed over 180lbs.  (More than my tall/fit husband.)  Which is about 60lbs more than my normal weight.  Which I gained in 5-6 months.  My body hated me for the weight gain.  (I was tired walking up stairs.  Or standing.  My legs hurt.  It just generally sucked.)

And the heat.  I've never been so warm in my life.  Between the extra sixty pounds, and the normal June/July weather, I was not a happy lady.  At all.

And the sleep.  (Or lack thereof.)  My sleep was getting so non-existent by 36wks that I could barely function.  It was awful.  That's when my sick-leave started.  So I was stuck at home watching reruns of A Baby Story because I was too uncomfortable and tired to do anything.  Gross.

This is also when the doctor's visits get out of control.  I was going every couple weeks, then every week...  And the time off work, the poking and prodding got old.  Fast.  It also didn't help that Steve stopped coming to pre-natal visits around month 7 - he was getting just as tired of them as I was, but since I was kinda The Main Attraction, he was able to no-show.  (Hearing the heartbeat was the only thing that kept me sane at the appointments - it never failed to make me smile.)

Part 5: The Big Show

I knew labour and delivery would be physically challenging.  And it was.  But to be honest?  It was by far the easiest part of giving up my body for my daughter.  I was prepared for the work and for the pain.  My body was ready to do it's job.  And it was only moderately overwhelming for a few hours.  So.  Yeah.  Not so bad.

Part 6: Postpartum Recovery

Gahhhh.  I've already written about my recovery at length.  Lets just say that between the rip-tearing, the blood-loss, and the boob issues, I was not in good shape. 

(This is where I thought the bulk of the physical sacrifice would end.  I just didn't understand how demanding being a SAHM, especially an exclusively breastfeeding one, would be.)

(Ok.  That was too long.  I will whine more tomorrow.  Be well.)

Dayhome Update

Did I mention that September is African-Safari month?

Baby Drama

Another month, another photo-shoot.  (These are some of the masthead rejects.)

(Frances firmly believes that it will kill her if she smiles at the camera.)

(My daughter, the drama queen?)

(The shirt says: "No naps on a powder day - Fernie, BC")

(I'm fairly confident that she'll be better than her mom at skiing powder by the time she's two.)

(Happy September: Let the snow fly!)

Dayhome: Grin and Bear It?

So.

Frances loves her dayhome.  (Loves.)  She likes the dayhome lady, she adores the other kids, and she things the dogs are the best.  I feel like she's safe, she's well-loved, and she's given the room she needs to play and sleep.  And it's the most convenient location ever.  So it's generally really, really fantastic.

But.

Hm.

I struggle with the fact that her diet is, um, different at the dayhome.  I guess she eats ok there, but I'm just used to her eating very, very well at home.  (We're sort of food snobs.  We make things from scratch about 80% of the time from high-quality food-stuffs, and I make sure that most of the "prepared" food that we eat is, well, as basic and healthy as possible; I'm all about reading labels and I'm a huge fan of minimal and real ingredients.  And generally no glucose/fructose/dextrose/cornwhatever, etc.  Because it kind of freaks me out. *shrug*)

But I know that most families don't eat the same way that we do.  I don't expect them to; it's a lot of work, it's expensive, and, well, it just doesn't occur to most people to eat differently than they do.  But, well... ack.  (I'm struggling.)

And... the tv.

Eugh.

Frances doesn't watch tv at home.  At all.  It's not really a conscious decision we made, it's just... she's too busy playing, eating, going out-and-about, whatever for us to bother letting her watch  tv.  I just can't see her gaining anything from it at this point.  (We have music on all the time, though; She's a dancing queen when good tunes are playing. =)

At the dayhome, however, they have the tv on first thing in the morning while all the kids are arriving, and again last thing in the afternoon while the kids are being picked up.  (Although it's never on when we first get there - maybe it gets turned on when the older kids start arriving?)  Last week, the dayhome lady commented that Frances squeals and dances when the songs in one particular show is on.  (I almost threw up in my mouth a little when she said that.  Kinda freaked me out.  Gah.)

Again, I know our lifestyle and tv habits are a-typical.  I don't actually know any other parents (in real life) who don't put their babies/toddlers in front of the tv for a little while every day.  And that works for them.  Which is fine.  It's just not something that I'm used to in my own home-life.

So.  I'm toying with the idea of looking.  (For something that is as warm/fun/safe as her current dayhome, with a no-tv policy, and which only serves real food.  But I'm dreaming, aren't I?)   But it's stressing me out.  Because, well, I dunno.

Is it worth it to leave a place that she so obviously loves, and where she's really so obviously well taken-care of?  Am I insane for even considering making a change??  Will I ever overcome my neuroses???

*sigh*

Ok, I'm done now.  *deeper sigh*

(Oh, and these pictures are all dinosaur-themed because this was the summer of the dinosaur.  September is African-Safari-themed.  I love cute dayhome themes. *deepest sigh*)

Trying to Laugh

I could really use a laugh right now.

(Maybe I can get my brother to bounce a ball off my head?)

Saturday Done Right.

Slept in until almost 7am.

Opened the new can of Kicking Horse espresso.

Enjoyed hazelnut latte and the newspaper while Steve fed the girl.

Played with the girl. (Steve left for a day-long golf tourney.)

Girl napped while I read in a bubble bath. (Score.)

Went to the St Albert Farmer's Market with the girl. (She likes people-watching even more than I do.)

Bought nalesniki, piroshki, saskatoon-berries, saskatoon-berry pie, a poppy seed roll, a walnut roll, and honey-sticks.

(Was horrifically dismayed at the absence of pickled carrots at the market, but ate away my sorrows with pie.)

Dropped the girl off at my mom's place.

Watched Sherlock: Episode 2.

Went walking down by the river with tall blond man and lanky black dog.

Camomille tea.

Tomato/meat cabbage rolls at my mom's house.  (Yum.)

Followed advice to place hot-pack on the front of my neck to relieve stress in the back of my neck.

Watched Sherlock: Episode 3.

Now I'm leaning towards a second bubble bath with a book...

(So this Saturday?  'Twas just right.)

Flyaway Hair

(I'm Pensive.  Who are you?)