The short answer is — no. The real answer is — it depends on how much of a pansy you are. Let me break it down for you.

Newborn I/O function
Newborn babies don’t do much, that’s a fact. The first couple weeks are mostly spent trying to figure out how to feed and change the baby.

Breastfeeding takes some getting used to. I really hated it for the first three weeks or so. Once my milk came in, I was way, way on overdrive, and it was really painful. I had a bad case of Autopectophobia – fear of one’s own breasts (yes, I made that up). There was no telling what those suckers would do. If I just thought about feeding Jake for a second, my boobs would explode. Heck, all you had to do was look at them funny and KABLOOEY. Thankfully after a few weeks, that crap stopped, and things are much more manageable now. In fact, I actually kind of like breastfeeding now. Go figure.

Another thing that sucks about breastfeeding is that babies actually have no idea how to do it. You have to teach them, and it takes them weeks of practice to really get good at it. And even once they get it, babies are incredibly inefficient in the beginning. It takes 30-40 minutes to feed them, and they need to be fed 8-10 times a day. Add in burping and changing, and you’ve got 8 hours of baby I/O every single day. Pumping and bottlefeeding helps a little, as long as you’ve got a third party giving the baby the bottle. If you do it all yourself, by the time you finish pumping, feeding, and cleaning up, it takes about the same amount of time as just nursing the regular way, with a lot more hassle.

Changing diapers also takes some practice. Jake was really tiny at first, so poop and pee would shoot out of his diapers constantly, even in the tiniest size. I ended up buying cloth diaper covers, which worked really well in keeping the goo at bay. Eventually he grew enough to fill out his diapers, and now diaper blowouts are much more rare. I’m pretty efficient with cleaning the kid up now, even baths are a breeze once you practice a few times.

Though I must say, the couple of times when he projectile pooped across the room were not my favorite.

“You’ll never sleep again”
… definitely not true. Listen, newborn babies definitely do not sleep for long stretches of time. You’ve got to feed them every 2-3 hours through the night at first. It’s not fun, but it’s really not that bad once you get used to it. Yes, there were a few times I’d hear Jake crying on the monitor, and I’d storm out of the room cursing the day I decided to have a kid, but really, as long as you can just accept that you’re going to have to get up at night, it’s not bad.

By around 5 weeks of age, something magical happened. He started sleeping a little longer. Then a little longer. Then a little longer. Now he’s up to about 6 ½ hours straight in the first go, then he’ll sleep another couple hours until it’s time to get up in the morning. So I only have to get up with him once in the night now, usually around 4:00am, and I’ve usually got him back to sleep in about 45 minutes. So really, I’m getting plenty of sleep.

Even in the beginning when he woke up every couple hours, all I had to do to get enough sleep was go to bed earlier and get up later. I would stay in bed until I got my 7 hours. It’s that simple. So all those stories I heard about being deliriously sleep deprived… Didn’t happen for me.

“I don’t even have time to shower!”
Yes, you do. Seriously, how long does it take you to shower? Do you have time to take a dump? Do you have time to feed yourself? You must, or else you’d die. So if you aren’t finding time to shower, or brush your teeth, or whatever, you’re doing something wrong. Babies nap. Do stuff while they nap. I really just don’t get the “no time” thing.

And what if the baby is fussing and wants to be held, but you really need to get some stuff done? Here’s what I do — pop him in the sling and go about my business. Jake is usually entertained by looking at everything while I move around, and then he falls asleep. I can do just about anything with him in the sling — walk a couple miles with the dog, make lunch, straighten up, vacuum… It’s a huge lifesaver.

And what if he needs to be fed and I need to get something done? I’ve gotten pretty good at feeding him and doing stuff on the computer at the same time. The iPhone is pretty handy for this too. Multitasking is key to getting stuff done.

As a matter of interest, while I wrote this blog post, first I had Jake in the sling, then he got hungry so I fed him, now he’s napping on the couch, and I just finished pumping.

Hormonal roller coaster
Yes, your hormones will go insane after you have the baby. And your body will be in pain, no matter how you delivered. Just be kind to yourself, and know that you’re going to be a bit of a whack-job until your hormones stabilize and you heal physically.

In the early weeks, I think it’s important to do things that make you feel normal, whatever that may be. For me, it was cleaning, organizing, making lists, and brewing beer. We brewed our first post-baby beer when Jake was 8 days old. It was no big deal. If all you do is stare at your baby, you’re going to lose your mind. Do normal stuff.

And make sure to take care of your body so you’re comfortable, happy, and not stressed out, for your baby’s sake and your own. Don’t let yourself get overtired because you’ll get frustrated more easily. Keep open communication with your spouse about how you’re feeling, and make sure you ask them how they’re doing too.

For me it helped to acknowledge the fact that my hormones were doing wacky things to my brain. I remember one night, Tim said something that triggered me, and I calmly said to him, “That makes me sad, I’m going to cry now,” and then just started sobbing. Recognizing it before letting the hormones take over made me objective about it and I recovered a lot faster.

Another thing that I think helps is to not let visitors stay too long in the beginning. It’ll make you crazy, and you need to allow for some bonding time for just the three of you, otherwise you’ll just get overwhelmed and overtired. Figure out what you’re doing with the baby before you have visitors come for longer than a couple hours. And really try not to let visitors stay long at the hospital, because for real, you’re a recovering patient. Don’t feel like you have to entertain anyone. Kick them out when you’re ready, and don’t feel bad about it.

After the first week, I started to fall into a groove with Jake, and the hormones were easing up too. Another week after that, I started to feel a lot more normal. And once you’re physically recovered, and you get the hang of breastfeeding, and the baby starts sleeping longer, it just gets easier and easier.

Oh the boredom…
Honestly, it’s mostly just really boring in the beginning. I don’t know how I would have done it without an iPhone for entertainment. Babies don’t really do anything at first. Eat, sleep, poop, repeat. It can get pretty dull. Gazing at your baby can only take you so far… And for me, that was not very far at all.

In the past week or so, Jake has started genuinely smiling back at us and cooing when we talk to him. It’s pretty cool. He actually shrieked in delight at me today while I was talking to him. Soon he’ll be reaching for things, playing with toys, maybe actually having an attention span long enough for me to sit and read a book to him. So we’re not quite out of the boring stage yet, but I think it’s coming.

So, is it really that bad?
Nope. Like most things in life, it is what you make of it. If you go into it believing all the horror stories and expecting it to be terrible, it’s gonna be. So just relax. Have a beer. You can drink now, remember?

I had to know. So I weighed myself the morning I was in labor. I was 148 lb (it was pretty interesting weighing more than my spouse, who is, in fact, a man). Ideally, I would have wanted to weigh myself immediately after getting up from the delivery bed, but alas, I had no access to a scale. So I weighed myself the first morning I woke up in my own home (which happened to be my birthday, three days after Jake was born). And my weight was… *drum roll* … 140 lb! WTH! Only 8 lb?? How was that even possible with all the crap that came out of me??

My theory is that it’s because they pumped me so full of liquid while I was at the hospital, and I was just retaining all that water. Because then I was losing a pound a day after that. By 2 weeks after delivery, I was down to 127 lb, about 5 lb away from normal (my normal weight is 120 lb, but I figured with the giant gazangas I sprouted, 122 lb would be about right until I’m done nursing).

After the first couple weeks, the water weight loss finished up, and then all that was left was just regular old fat, so it took a couple more weeks for those last few pounds to come off. My jeans are now quite cozy.

Anyhoo, thought that was all pretty interesting! And weird! Pregnancy is weird.

After Jake popped out, they placed him right on my chest, and I had absolutely no idea what to do with that. I had zero experience with babies before Jake, so I was a little baffled as to what I was supposed to do. So I smiled, patted his back, and hoped that the hospital staff didn’t think I was some kind of cold-hearted monster.

And Jake cried like a banshee. Holy gosh. The nurse joked, “Boy, he is really clearing out those lungs!” At that point, I started to panic that this was a sign of things to come, and he would just scream all day long every day for the rest of my life. (Luckily that turned out to not be the case.)

After toweling some of the goo off of him, they took him to get his length and weight, cleaned him up a little better, and did whatever else they do to assess babies (I wasn’t paying too much attention, so it’s a bit of a blur). He had all 9s and 10s on his Apgar scores, and was deemed perfectly healthy. Phew.

Jake went over to the little baby-heating station with Tim by his side, and the doctor got to work fixing me up. Apparently I had a pretty nasty second-degree tear, and the doctor took about an hour to stitch me up. I tried to relax and ignore the fact that I could see an awful lot of blood in the reflection of the doctor’s glasses. Not the most fun experience.

During this time, I turned to the nurse and said, “Okay, I have to know. Did I poop?” Tim’s back was turned, so she said loudly, “Oh no not at all!” then mouthed, “Just a little bit,” to me. I said, “Oh I don’t care, Tim can know that I pooped!” Apparently some women do not talk poop with their husbands? News to me!

Oh yeah, other gross thing I forgot to mention in my last post. While I was having contractions, sometime after the epidural, the nurse had to empty my bladder with a catheter into a little pee bucket. Tim was right by my side. I looked at him and said, “Oh no, I’m peeing in front of you!” It was kind of disgusting, but a little bit hilarious.

Kay, back to the story. Sometime while they finished stitching me up, they whisked Jake away to do whatever other tests they needed to do on him. Meanwhile, Tim and I finally got a chance to eat the dinner we had ordered many hours earlier. It was pretty interesting eating sandwiches surrounding by all the blood and gore on the floor.

They brought Jake back and we had our designated bonding time until midnight. This was when I had my first attempt at breastfeeding, which it turns out you can read all about until you’re blue in the face and still not know what the hell you’re doing. We did okay though.

Once midnight hit, bonding time was over, and it was time for Jake to get his first bath, while Tim and I made our way out of the labor and delivery room and into our maternity room, where we’d stay for the next two nights. My left leg was still completely numb because of the overkill epidural, so the nurse had to completely support me. She hoisted me up out of the bed I’d been in for the last 10 hours or so and helped me hobble into the bathroom to get me cleaned up. While we were in there, my leg completely gave out underneath me and I fell. Thankfully the nurse caught me before I completely wiped out, though I did bash my knee into the wall and got a nice cut from it. The nurse felt bad, but I said, “It’s cool, I can’t feel it!” Ha.

I got cleaned up as best I could without the use of my left leg, and the nurse wheeled me into our room and helped me into bed. I had planned to have Jake sleep in the room with us, but we decided to have him sleep in the nursery for a while because I was still only running on two hours of sleep, and I was just too exhausted. We finally went to bed at 1:00am.

They brought him back to me at 2:30am because he was hungry, so I fed him, and then they brought him back to nursery. An hour later, the nurse came back with him and said, “I’m sorry, he’s been crying since we brought him back, what would you like to do?” So I decided to have her leave him with me, and I was able to immediately comfort him back to sleep. That made me feel pretty good about myself!

After that, he slept for short spurts but wanted to eat pretty frequently, and since breastfeeding is really not instinctive, it took a while to get a meal in him. Between that and the nurses checking on me constantly, and having to go to the bathroom every couple hours (which luckily, I had gotten feeling back in my leg around 4:00am and was able to go by myself once again), I didn’t get more than two hours of sleep that night. Two nights in a row of two hours of sleep. Needless to say, I was beyond exhausted the next day.

On top of the exhaustion was the pain. Lots of pain. And bleeding. More than I had anticipated. The nurses kept telling me I had a pretty nasty tear, which really did not help me feel any better about it. All the ice packs and ointment and crap I had to use didn’t do much to help my comfort level, though the Tylenol Codeine and Motrin did help a bit.

I also had bruises all over my arms from where the nurses had tried to get the IV in. And I still had the IV, um, port thing in my hand (no idea what that’s called), which kept getting caught on things and getting in the way while I tried to feed Jake. Finally around 5:00am, I asked the nurse if I could just get the damn thing taken out, and she obliged.

Our families came to visit around noon that next day. Thankfully I managed to get showered before they arrived. You can imagine how nasty you feel after delivering a baby. Everyone was so excited, but I was just completely exhausted and stressed. I was in desperate need of some rest. Around 3:30pm, a nurse barged in and said it was time to examine me, so our families left in a hurry so they could do what they needed to do.

A doctor came in and informed me that they had lost a surgical sponge in our delivery room, and they needed to make sure it wasn’t inside me. You have got to be kidding me. They told me they just had to take a look, and it would be easy. Before I really even had a chance to protest, the doctor was all up in my shit, and it hurt. Really, really bad. Tim had been in the bathroom, had no idea this was even going on, and came out at that moment, while they were doing the exam and I was whimpering in pain. The doctor said, “Nope, it’s not in there! Want me to get you a dart board with my face on it? Ho ho ho.” I was about ready to tear her face off.

They left, promising to bring me extra pain medicine. Meanwhile my bedsheets were now covered in blood. I lost it and just sobbed. It was really horrible, on top of the exhaustion I was already dealing with. Tim was furious. He went to go track down a nurse to clean up my bed while I hobbled into the bathroom to clean myself up.

The next day, we were informed by the nurse manager that the internal exam was the incorrect protocol, and they took me to get an X-ray to make sure the sponge wasn’t in me. It wasn’t. We signed a paper that basically said we wouldn’t sue the hospital. Awesome.

So yeah, there was that. Luckily, after the sponge fiasco, all the nurses were extra kind to me for the rest of our stay. But still, it was pretty traumatic.

Meanwhile, for most of our stay at the hospital, I kept thinking, “Crap, what am I gonna do with a baby? What the hell was I thinking?” I was so, so very low on sleep, and I honestly just wasn’t feeling much for Jake. I knew that it could take some time to bond, but it still worried me. I didn’t have that instant rush of intense love that everyone always talks about.

The morning after our second night, I was alone with Jake, Tim had gone home for a couple hours to take care of the doggie. Jake was hungry and started to cry (as babies will do when they’re hungry). I picked him up and fed him, and he calmed right down (as babies will do when they’re fed). Something kind of clicked. I looked at him and thought, “I’m going to take care of you.” And I realized at that point that I loved him.

It only took me like two days. Yeesh.

By the time we were packing up to leave that afternoon, I was so freakin ready to not be in the hospital anymore. I was sick and tired of nurses coming in to check on me when all I wanted to do was rest, I was so over being told what to do all the freakin time, and I just wanted to get home. Around 2:00pm, we packed up the car and brought Jake home.

And that concludes our hospital stay. Despite the sponge incident, I was actually pretty happy with how things went. I mean, it’s a hospital, so it’s gonna suck no matter what. But as hospitals go, I’d say this was a pretty good one. And in the end, we had a healthy baby to bring home. Success.

For some reason, most women don’t like to talk about what actually went on at the hospital. It’s a shame, because I really feel like first time parents could benefit from hearing the complete story. While I wasn’t worried about the whole delivery thing, Tim was pretty much scared poopless about it. Me, I was terrified of everything that would happen after I had the baby. As much as I read about labor and delivery beforehand, I feel like I would have benefited from hearing an entire actual labor story from an actual real person.

So, for the benefit of others, here’s how it all went down for us. I totally took notes while I was in labor, then had Tim take over once we got to the hospital… because I’m crazy. Don’t worry, this won’t get gross. Not too gross anyway.

It started in the middle of the night…

12:30am: I felt a little crampy. Didn’t think much of it. Went to sleep.

2:45am: Woke up to contractions every 2-5 minutes, lasting 30-45 seconds each.  It basically felt like bad menstrual cramps. Wuh oh… I convinced myself that it wasn’t really happening and tried to go back to sleep. But with every passing contraction, I came closer and closer to waking Tim up to tell him it was time. I spent the next couple hours laying in bed and Googling “signs of labor.”

5:00am: Contractions were happening every 2-3 minutes, still 30-45 seconds each. Finally decided to wake up Tim, who looked instantly terrified. I got up and started packing for the hospital (I had actually planned to pack my bag ahead of time that very day, go figure). I could still walk around and talk during contractions, so I knew it wasn’t quite time to call the hospital.

7:00am: Tim and I were both finished packing, showering, and eating breakfast. So of course now that we were ready to go, everything slowed down. Contractions were only happening every 5-7 minutes, still 30-45 seconds each. We decided to lay around on the couch and try to get more sleep, of which I got none and Tim got a little.

9:00am: Still 5-7 minutes apart, but lasting 45-60 seconds each and getting more painful. I didn’t want to walk around or talk during the contractions by now.

10:30am: Getting more frequent at 3-5 minutes apart, lasting 45-60 seconds each.

11:00am: It was still too early to go to the hospital, and I was getting bored, so I made Tim play ping pong with me. Contractions were now lasting longer than 1 minute each, were quite painful, but still were 3-5 minutes apart. Tim wanted me to call the hospital, but I wasn’t ready yet. We hung out in the garage while Tim added a computer arm to the brewing system and I played with the dog.

12:30pm: By now I had to squat down to the floor, close my eyes, and concentrate on my breathing to get through each contraction. Tim was begging me to call the hospital. I told him I would if he beat me at ping pong. We played one more game, Tim won, and I called the hospital. They said, “Yep, you’re in labor, come on in!” We left around 1:00pm, by the time we got in the car, the contractions were 2-3 minutes apart, and very painful. Hitting bumps in the road was not so fun.

1:15pm: Arrived at the hospital. They hooked me up to the fetal monitors and checked me. I was just about 5 cm dilated. They said, “Yep, you’re in active labor, you’re not going anywhere!” I changed into my Pretty Pushers gown, which was badass and I loved, and we settled into the delivery room. Contractions continued to get more painful, to the point where I said, “Yeah, I’m probably gonna want that epidural, not worth it to tough it out the whole way.” I still wanted to wait as long as I possibly could so that things wouldn’t slow down. But the doctor did recommend that I get the IV in so I’d be ready for the epidural.

In case you need a visual, here I am chowing down on ice chips in the delivery room. It’s seriously mean that all they let you eat or drink is ice chips. Tim snuck me almonds when no one was looking.

3:00pm: The IV finally got started. It took three nurses about an hour to get the damn thing in, by which time I had been stuck all over with needles. Apparently my veins suck. They told me that once they got one whole bag of fluid in, they could call the anesthesiologist. They said it would take about 30 minutes. I still wasn’t in any rush since I was still able to breath through the contractions just fine, so I was cool with 30 minutes.

3:30pm: At this point, the doctor decided to give me her spiel on birth plans, and how mine was all wrong, and that labor is unpredictable, and I was basically an idiot for even trying to write a birth plan. Okay, she used different wording, but that’s how it came off at the time, when I was in pain and not feeling particularly tolerant. “Yes, I get it, this is just my ideal. I’m perfectly willing to accept that things may not go as planned. Whatever.” And that was the end of that. (In any case, almost everything ended up going according to plan anyway.)

3:50pm: My water broke. Gush! From then on out, every time I had a contraction, I felt like I was peeing myself. But really it was just amniotic fluid spewing out. Yum. Now the pain started getting really intense. To the point where I wasn’t dealing with it as well with just breathing. I wanted that epidural, but the damn IV drip was so slow that it was only about 2/3 of the way through. Bah!

4:00pm: I was in some really intense pain by now. I felt like I was yelling during the contractions, though Tim said I was really quite calm and quiet. They checked me again, and I was 7 cm dilated, nearing the dreaded transition phase, which is said to be the most painful phase of labor. The nurse said, “Honey you’re so close, you can just tough it out if you want!” I believe I calmly said, “I want the f$@#ing epidural.” The IV drip was still only 3/4 of the way through, but thankfully the nurse decided that was close enough and called the anesthesiologist. He was 30 minutes away from the hospital. Great.

4:45pm: He’s late. The words, “Where the F$@# is the anesthesiologist??” escape my lips. A moment later, he arrives. I was about ready to punch him in the face when he walked in. He said, “Hey this is the easy part, the hard part is the next 18 years, ho ho ho!” There was murder in my eyes.

5:00pm: I am in the worst pain of my life. The nurse helps me sit up so the anesthesiologist can do his thing. I’m only getting a break of about 30-60 seconds in between contractions, and the pain is so intense, I feel like I’m gonna lose it. They make me sign a waver, even though I had made it a point to come to the hospital months ago to sign it, to avoid doing it while I was in labor. I was about ready to burst into tears by now. Finally, the needle goes in, which really felt like nothing compared to the contractions. I hardly noticed.

5:15pm: The epidural drip started, and finally I was comfy cozy. They checked me again and I was 9 cm dilated. For those unfamiliar, 10 cm is complete dilation. So I had made it almost through the entire transition phase without an epidural. Go me!

7:00pm: Once the epidural was in, everything slooowwwed down. It took forever to dilate that last centimeter. The contractions got weaker, and I couldn’t feel a thing. That dickhead anesthesiologist overdid it on the dosage, and I was almost completely numb. I could only feel a slight pressure when a contraction hit. The later it got, the more I felt pressure down lower in my pelvis. Baby was making his way down.

8:15pm: The nurse told me that they were going to get someone to come turn down my epidural. I was fully dilated, but they didn’t want me to be completely numb for the pushing phase, so that I’d be at least able to feel the right way to push a little bit on my own. They got someone in there, turned down the dosage, and then waited to see if I’d regain some feeling.

8:45pm: No dice. Still couldn’t feel a thing. So the decision was made to have me start pushing, with the nurse helping to verbally guide me. The nurse got the bed all set up, she and Tim positioned themselves on either side of me, each one hoisting one of my completely numb legs (yyyep, not something I had planned on Tim having to do, but he was able to avoid seeing anything on the business end, so it was okay), and we got started. With each contraction (the nurse had to tell me when I was having one based on the monitors), she guided me through three sets of approximately 10 second pushes. She would tell me when I was doing it right, and I had to completely base what I was doing on what she said. The bright side was that I at least had zero pain. Tim and I chatted beer with the nurse in between pushes. It was really quite stress-free and calm. I don’t think it would have been that way if I hadn’t had the epidural.

9:05pm: The baby was getting close to making his appearance, so the nurse got the doctor. There was a lot of bustling around as the doctor set up everything for the birth. At that point I was actually starting to feel lots of pressure down there, like I had to push. We got back to business, with the nurse and doctor guiding me along. Finally, I felt a POP, and said, “Whoa, what was that?” They told me that the head was out!

9:12pm: Once the head was out, it took only one or two more pushes for the rest of him to emerge. After only 20 minutes of pushing, Jake was born. There were lots of smiles all around.

I cried. But not because of any sudden rush of love or anything. It was more of a sense of triumph, like reaching the top of a mountain after the longest, hardest hike you’ve ever been on. It was just total joy. Mixed with fear. Joy that I had done it and it was over, and Jake was healthy and safe. And fear from the fact that now I had a baby, and what the hell was I supposed to do with a baby??

The nurse kept telling me how amazing I was, that I must have a really high threshold for pain, because she couldn’t believe how well I had handled the contractions, and that most women are yelling and screaming at the point I had gotten to without the epidural. They told me that only 20 minutes of pushing is incredibly fast for a first timer, and that normally it takes about 2 hours. The doctor told me I can start introducing myself as, “Stephanie Weber, labor and delivery queen.”

So basically, I felt like a badass when all was said and done.

And that, my friends, concludes my labor and delivery story. I’ve got plenty more to write about what happened during the rest of our hospital stay, but I’ll leave that for next time.

I think it’s a pretty good birth story. It’s pretty cool that someday I’ll be able to tell Jake that I played ping pong while I was in labor with him.

Oh, by the way, you know how women tend to say things like, “I was in labor with you for 24 hours!” like it’s a badge of honor or something? Well, I was in labor with Jake for 18 hours, but really, most of it was pretty easy. It’s really only towards the end when you’re dilating those last few centimeters that it’s truly painful. So, when you hear statements like that, feel free to smile and take it with a grain of salt!

I’ll delve into the whole labor and delivery story in my next couple of posts, but right now, I figured I’d just wrap up the whole pregnancy thing.

I think the #1 most important lesson that can be gleaned from my pregnancy is that you should exercise your brains out for all 9 months. I had the most textbook, uneventful pregnancy ever, and I attribute it completely to the fact that I took care of myself relentlessly throughout the entire duration.

Here’s a picture Tim snapped of me doing yoga two days before I went into labor:

I also made a twelve-layer crepe cake that day. In my mind, it was my birthday cake, since I wasn’t sure I would make it to my birthday (April 3rd) before having the baby, which, it turns out I didn’t. This made for delicious eating at the last happy hour we squeaked in with our friends that day:

The day before I went into labor, I walked two miles with my dog. All the walking I did could have been part of the reason I went into labor a little early. Either way, Jake was ready to go in the wee hours of March 31st. Here’s the last picture we took of me that morning before going to the hospital, one day shy of 39 weeks, looking pretty good for someone who was having contractions!

In the end, I gained 28 lb, which falls right within the recommended range of 25-35 lb. Because I watched my weight, ate super healthy, and kept really active with yoga, walking, and constant activity, I never got to that point of extreme discomfort during my pregnancy, even in the bitter end.

So, take home advice, if you want to feel awesome while you’re pregnant, take care of yourself better than you ever have in your life! It’s so, so very simple.

While I never felt completely crappy when I was pregnant, I have to say, it feels amazing to no longer be growing a human inside me. I was actually pretty amazed at the instant relief I felt after I gave birth. All those little aches and pains in my joints and all the extra bulk was gone in an instant. I still marvel at the fact that I can touch my toes and roll over in bed with ease.

Like I said, I’ll tell the whole labor/delivery story in my next couple of posts here. For now, it suffices to say that everything went really, really great, and Jake is super healthy and happy.

Side note: I won’t be posting any personal details about Jake in this blog. While I don’t particularly care what I say about myself on the internet, it’s not fair of me to post information about Jake when he can’t have any say in the matter. So for his privacy, I’ll keep the pictures to Facebook where I can protect everything… Save one, because he just looks absolutely beautiful in this picture. Welcome to the world Jake!

The behbeh has been head down for some time now, and he’s got so little room to move around in there that he’s definitely going to stay that way. The doctor said he’s dropped down pretty low now, but still has some room to drop down even lower. She said she thinks he’s less than 7 lb, somewhere in the upper 6’s. A nice normal-sized baby. Sounds good to me!

38 weeks

And here I was 2 weeks ago:

36 weeks

Holy crap. I appear to have exploded… Is it just me or does that look fake? Do I have a basketball under my shirt or something? Yikes…

So how am I feeling now? Still really good, surprisingly. Although I feel like I’m really, really close now. I just feel… big. I have a constant sense of fullness inside. I have very little appetite and don’t really feel like eating much since my insides are so squished. Trips to the bathroom have increased as my bladder has even less room now.

I’m slowing down a bit too. My walking speed isn’t quite at its usual, peppy pace, though I’m certainly not waddling. I’m still doing yoga like a champ, and I’ve still got the energy I’ve always had. The fact that I can feel Braxton Hicks contractions from time to time is pretty freaky, but physically it’s not bothering me.

It feels like I’m carrying lower now, which probably means that the baby has “dropped” as they say. All this means is he’s settling further down in my pelvis towards the birth canal, preparing to be spewed forth into the world. Speeewwwwww…

There’s really no way of knowing exactly how much he weighs at this point. The doc told me he’s “not too big, not too small,” which is good enough for me. He’s likely gaining weight at a rate of about 1 oz per day, so just shy of ½ lb per week. Which means he’s probably somewhere around 6-7 lb by now, and something like 20 inches long. At this point, he’s packed on enough fat that the circumference of his head and abdomen are about the same. Basically, he’s just a fully developed baby now.

He’s still kicking around and hiccuping in there, and my belly looks like a freak show with all the movement. Sometimes I find it a little hard to believe that there’s a whole baby in there when I look down, but it must be true.

Only 2 more weeks until my due date… Crazy. Pretty much every woman I’ve talked to who’s been pregnant before has said something like, “I felt really uncomfortable in those last couple weeks.” And here I am, in my last couple weeks. I haven’t hit that downward spiral of extreme discomfort yet, so we’ll see.

We essentially sold our house in 2 days – went on the market Friday 3/2, offer came in on Sunday 3/4. We are ninjas.

We only stalled signing the papers until Tuesday 3/6 because we wanted to see if we could get more offers and spark a bidding war. When all was said and done, we ended up getting 3 offers in 3 days! No one was more shocked than we were to find out we had sold our house at list price. I mean seriously, in this housing market, who does that??

It was totally crazy. We had 11 appointments for showings, and 25 families came through our open house, which our realtor said was completely nuts.

The couple that ended up buying the house was actually looking at the house across the street that’s been on the market for many months. When I saw them out there, I ran out to tell them that we had just gone on the market the previous day, and that they were welcome to come check it out without an appointment. They had seen our pictures the day before and were planning to come to the open house, but were grateful to get a sneak peak privately. So we jetted out of there with the doggy and let them have at it.

They came back for a second look during the open house the next day and talked to our realtor. As it turns out, they too are expecting their first child, due in June. That kind of worried me, seeing as we were asking for a settlement date in the summer. But to my absolute shock, the offer came in that evening — list price, settling in July even though they will have a newborn and their condo is settling in April. That’s how badly they wanted it!

The inspection period is finally over, which was incredibly stressful, but thankfully, it all turned out great for us in the end. We only ended up having to spend another 500 bucks or so to fix a few things, which, considering that they were asking for $6,000 for a new A/C unit (completely unwarranted) among quite a few other things, we got out pretty much scot-free.

Inspections are really the only scary time during a house sale where things can go horribly wrong, so we’re glad to be past that hurtle. Their mortgage commitment deadline is March 31st, and their condo is settling on April 26th. Our realtor did her homework on their financials and their condo sale, and we’ve been assured that it’s a very, very solid deal. After that’s over, the only thing that could happen that would make the deal fall through would be if the buyers lost their jobs and their mortgage. So as long as there are no very horrible strokes of luck in the next few months, we’re golden.

Next step, Tim has to find a job in Asheville, and we have to find a house to rent, so we’ll be working on that next. I’m thrilled to pieces knowing that when I go out on maternity leave, I am never coming back. My next job title will be entrepreneur. Ho. ly. crap.

So, all that hard work to get the house ready paid off massively. Not only did we get the exact price we had hoped for, but we got the exact settlement date we wanted too. And because we made our house so desirable, we got the offer in at lightning speed, and we only had to put up with the annoyance of house showings and open houses for a short while. Now that we’re all squared away, we don’t have to worry and wonder. We can simply concentrate on bringing this kid into the world in 2 weeks. The peace of mind we’ve achieved here is beyond priceless.

So, we’re moving to North Carolina with a 3-month-old this summer. Should be exciting… Here’s hoping little Wenty is a tolerant behbeh!

When you first announce that you’re pregnant, everyone always says, “Congrats! When are you due? Oh that’s a nice time of year! Are you going to find out what you’re having?”

Sometime during the second trimester, once you’re more obviously showing, the conversation changes. “How far along are you now? Do you know what you’re having? Oh how nice! Do you have a name picked out? Oh that’s a good idea to keep it a secret. Are you decorating the nursery?”

Then when you’re really starting to grow in the third trimester, it becomes, “You must be getting close now! How much longer do you have? How are you feeling? You look great!”

And finally, when your due date is just around the corner, you’re left with a simple, “Good luck!”

There you go. I’ve just outlined 95% of the small talk conversations you’ll have to put up with throughout the 9 months of your pregnancy. Enjoy.

First of all, I feel pretty much awesome, mentally. I don’t buy the whole “pregnant, hormonal, crazy lady” thing. I think this is just crazy women making an excuse for their normal craziness. I just feel plain old happy.

Physically, the only time I didn’t feel 100% was for a few weeks early on, somewhere around 8-11 weeks in, when I had good ol’ first trimester fatigue. I slept a lot. But that was short-lived, and I had a ton of energy after it ended. During that same time, I had to make sure I never had an empty stomach to avoid queasiness. Having lots of snacks and keeping active helped me avoid morning sickness altogether, which was great.

I definitely also had some smell aversions starting at that time, lasting into the second trimester. You pretty much had to keep any sort of meat or well-seasoned food away from me, or you would’ve gotten a punch in the face. There were a few times I had to leave the room when someone was eating something particularly aromatic. Luckily that symptom was also short-lived.

I started having some aches and pains when I popped during the second trimester, probably around 5-6 months in. As my joints started loosening up, I started getting some aching in my hips, particularly at night while trying to sleep. So I sleep with a pillow between my legs, which helps immensely. This was weird too — my right hip would go completely numb if I laid on my right side during the second trimester. Luckily that one stopped early in the third trimester. I also had some lower back pain during the second trimester, specifically posterior pelvic pain, as well as coccyx pain (tailbone).

I did get to experience round ligament pain once during the second trimester, which was plenty enough for me. It was a severe stabbing pain on the right side of my abdomen that happened when I got up in the middle of the night. It was really horrible. For the next week, I would feel that pain any time I made a sudden movement. Thankfully, that went away completely and never came back.

Like I said, all of this was during the second trimester when I had my first big growth spurt. Now the only time I really get any aches in my back or hips is if I’ve been sitting on my ass too long, or if I’ve been doing too much bent-over work, like cleaning the house. But luckily, exercise cures all. I’m positive that if I didn’t keep walking and doing yoga several times a week, I’d be much worse for wear. If I had to guess, I’d say I’m probably averaging at least 8-10 miles/week, plus 2-3 hours/week of yoga. Sometimes more. And I plan to keep it up until the bitter end!

I have had to adjust how I do things, due to the giant uterus I’ve been sporting. Anything that involves bending straight forward at the waist with your legs in front of you is physically impossible. The biggest adjustment was my yoga routine. It took a little while to get used to avoiding squishing the behbeh while doing poses, but luckily I found a great prenatal yoga DVD that taught me how to modify my routine. I even use these modifications just for everyday things (for example, instead of bending over to pick something up, I squat down). As a result, I feel pretty damn nimble.

I’ve been asked a lot if I’ve had any weird cravings. Nope, no cravings. Unless you count cereal, oatmeal, fruits, and vegetables. But that’s sort of the norm for me. I think it may be because I keep my diet really balanced, so my body is never missing out on any one thing.

Hmm, what else… I feel a little warm most of the time, since I have my own personal built-in heater on my gut. My skin and hair have been a bit drier than usual. The hair on my legs completely stopped growing at one point. Like completely, for a month. Really weird. Another weird one I’ve got is the linea nigra, that dark line pregnant women get on their abdomen. It’s due to hormones, and will fade after delivery. My belly button hasn’t “popped,” which is kinda nice, though it’s looking quite taut. I also don’t have any stretch marks, and though my mom said she never got them (that’s usually a good indicator), I’m not going to celebrate that one until after delivery… I’ve still got 3 more weeks.

All my insides are pretty squished, since the baby is pressing out on everything else inside me. Since sometime during the second trimester, I’ve had to pee a little bit more often than usual, though that one’s been barely noticeable. And I do get heartburn if I eat too much all at once, or if I do a lot of bending over immediately after eating, but that’s easy to avoid. I also make sure to eat tons of fiber to, let’s say, keep things moving. And my diaphragm has less room to move, so I sometimes have to readjust my position to breathe properly.

Now that it’s really late in the game, that squished feeling has increased quite a bit. I feel sort of full. Not like the same feeling as being full from eating too much, but full like there’s just too much in my torso. I don’t have a very large appetite the last couple weeks since there’s less room for food. And the difficulty breathing has increased. I noticed in just the last week or so that I’ve been getting winded more easily. As a result, my walking pace has slowed down from about 3.5 mph to something like 3.2 mph. Not a huge difference, but enough that I noticed when I looked at my RunKeeper records.

I think that might be it. It sure looks like a lot of symptoms now that I’ve written it all out, but honestly, none of this has really bothered me all that much, which is why my answer to, “How are you feeling?” is always, “Great!” It’s true, I really do feel great. I’m pleasantly surprised that I still have energy at nearly 37 weeks. I truly expected to feel horrible by now.

Now that I’ve written this, I hope I don’t instantly start a downward spiral of rapid decline… But if it does happen, I’ll at least be sure to take advantage of the humor of the situation by writing a post saying, “Forget what I said last week, I wanna DIE!!!”