Painful Ponderances

I am 37 1/2 weeks pregnant. (Actually, tomorrow it'll be 38 even.)

This is boy number four. Pregnancy #4. Birth numero quatro.

A few days ago, I was feeling sorta brave. I had a few ideas about this bambino. See, I keep hearing that the more babies you have, the easier it's supposed to get. Easier and quicker.

I decided this time I'd try to stay home a little longer. Ya know--labor at home instead of at the hospital. Then just show up and pop the kid out. (The hospital is, afterall, literally just across the street from where I'm sitting at this very moment.) Two minutes walking. Three or four waddling. (Maybe six minutes if you factor in the damnable snow falling at the moment.)

So I've, periodically, been telling myself: Be less of a wuss. Labor at home a bit! Spend less time at the hospital begging for an epidural!!! (And oh, how I beg!)

Then I went to my appointment on Tuesday morning.

"The results are back for your GBS test. You're positive. So as soon as you're in labor, come right in. You need to be on antibiotics for at least four hours pre-delivery or the pediatricians get antsy."

Oh fine. There went that plan. Oh well! But this time, really--I'm going to be brave. (I told myself this despite having earlier met with the anesthesiologist and telling her "I'm not brave. Please start my epidural immediately. Today would be great!")

Then came yesterday morning. A contraction woke me up. A real contraction. A painful contraction.

(It would have had to be to get me to open my eyes at the un-godly hour of 6 a.m.)

I lay their moaning trying to shift my position enough to relieve some of the pain. It didn't work. This one really hurt. And it was a long one.

All of the sudden, my modicum of stoicism left me.

The veil was lifted and I remembered the actual, real pain of labor that you forget when you hold your newborn.

I was Eve--thrust out of the Garden into the cold, cruel world.

I was vulnerable.

Nothing about what was happening was bearable in any way, shape, or form.

This was REAL pain.

Vomit inducing pain.

And I didn't like it and I didn't want ANY more of it.

Finally, the contraction ended. Finally, I could fall back asleep. But later that morning I made sure to shave my legs in the shower. Just in case that one contraction was a sign of things to come. (I should be so lucky to be 2 1/2 weeks early...)

But the experience left me contemplative. Why am I such a wuss? Why am I so scared of pain? Why do I have such a low, low pain tolerance? Surely it's all in my mind. Surely my mind is powerful enough to take me to another place...to help me bare pain a little better. (Like Westley in the Pit of Despair.)

Afterall, other people do it all the time! Why can't I do it?!? I CAN do it, it's just that I don't WANT to do it!! (This is the same way I feel about running, btw.)

That's why last night Doug found me researching Hypno-birthing on the Internet. The claim is that it's pain free. That you can experience birth with only a small amount of discomfort.

And HEY, I can HANDLE a small amount of discomfort.

With the help of self-hypnosis, I can do ANYTHING!!!

I'm not inherently inept!

My body is young and capable and strong...ish!

...maybe.

(You can't prove that it's not!)

Unfortunately for me, it's a little too late.

I'm out of time.

I haven't prepared...haven't listened to any tapes or practiced any deep, meditative breathing.

Doug couldn't find any free applicable Podcasts on i-Tunes when he looked, and I'm to cheap and too skeptical to buy something from the Internet "sight-unseen".

And so, history will repeat itself.

My body will start laboring and my mind will start frantically waving a white flag and begging for DRUGS to be administered as soon as possible!

And until they are, (and even after) I'll suffer through the pain (even with epidurals, there is plenty of pain) and just try to make it through to the end, the beautiful little reward I'll hold in my arms. ("Twu Wuv", if you will.)

So it looks like, as Westley says, I'm headed not to the death, but "TO THE PAIN!"

Again.

So please wish me luck!

...And a fast acting epidural!!!

Post Script: Wanna know what I think is a tragedy? That after making one of the greatest films known to humankind, Cary Elwes (Westley) and Robin Wright-Penn (Buttercup) didn't go on to super-stardom. Or at the very least make another British romantic comedy together!

Ah, Boys...

Haircuts courtesy of Doug. The tightwad! He made my baby grow up overnight!!!

Sammy: "Mommy. Yo behwy button wooks wike da gwoss end of a banana."

Translation: Mommy, your belly button looks like the gross end of a banana.

(Yes, we have issues with "l's" and "r's" awound heo.)

(And yes, my belly button does look like the gross end of a banana. I'd show you but...it's gross.)

Sammy: "Today was da BEST DAY EVO!"

Mommy: "Why?"

Sammy: "Because I got a TWOH-FEE!"

(Basketball ended for the boys today and they both got trophies, t-shirts, and end-of-season parties. BEST DAY EVER!!!)

(It's really hard trying to spell kid-speak foe-neh-ti-cally!)

(Yes, I know it's not spelled that way.)

BTW, two Saturday's ago, Sammers said the same thing ("best day evo!") as we were leaving the AIRPLANE MUSEUM (just off-base) with our good friends whom we will just call "The Much-Cooler-Than-You-Fighter-Pilot Family". And that despite the fact that he got lost for about 20 minutes by wandering OUT of the museum to look for us.) Ah, boys...

Speaking of boys, how's the Fruit-of-my-Womb you ask?

Well, he's been in the slow cooker for exactly 37 weeks now. Just three to go! And since the last three Dub-brothers came a week early, I expect this one to do the same, dangit!!! (He's head down and slightly engaged. And yes, he's still able to kick me in the throat. Yes, you wanted to know that.)

And no, he still doesn't have a name.

And yes, he has grossly distorted my previously extremely perfect belly button. (And by "previously", I mean previous to four pregnancies.)

And yes, his current residency/squatterage is causing excessive Acid Reflux driving me to a strict diet of cold cereal and PB&J sandwiches. (And spinach/fruit smoothies. He's fine with those. But no pasta, pizza, curry, anything cooked, or anything with any flavor or seasoning of any kind.)

And yes, I'm tired and cranky and sick of the dang wet weather and ready for SPRING ALREADY!!!

Doug? Doug is sick of catering to my every whim, my Tums breath, my having to sit straight up in the middle of the night to burp and/or waddle to the bathroom, and my complete apathy towards all things house-keeping/meal planning/cooking related.

(Though I'm sure he wont admit it for fear of my excessively hormonally imbalanced wrath.)

While I'm at it, let's just make this a complete for-posterity journal entry about all the boys!

Maxwell: Recently had to spend lunch with the principle after tripping a girl at recess. He says she told him to "trick her" but he misunderstood and thought she said "TRIP her". (He was just being compliant!!!) The jury is still out on whether or not we believe him. Regardless, he lost his hour of Wii on Friday 'cause it's not okay to trip even if you're asked to.

Aside from the occasional incidences like the one above, he seems to be doing pretty well this year. He's starting to actually like reading (not just being read to, which he's always loved.) and he can be very helpful around the house if he thinks it'll earn him a few extra minutes on afore mentioned Wii. (Which he's only allowed to play for an hour on Friday and two hours on Saturday. IF his chores are done.) He's cute. And he makes his own, and Sammy's, lunch every morning. For which I love him an extra lot.

Samuel: Has been caught wearing a collared shirt AND some NON-SWEAT PANTS of his own volition*!!! This is serious progress and cause for much secret rejoicing by his parents. (We can't acknowledge these things lest he stop doing them just to defy us.) He hates everything we ever have for dinner unless it's healthy pizza or healthy pancakes. But he's still cute and he throws fewer tantrums now that we have "special play time" with him everyday. (That's 5 minutes of child/Sammy-directed play--alone with a parent--no interruptions.)

His best friend is "Chipmunk" who lives a few doors down--they MUST play together daily or melt-downs occur. His girlfriend is Caroline (though she hasn't agreed to this) because, as Sam says, "Weo nice to each otho." (Payden is his only other friend in the world and he refuses to like anyone else. I'm sorry to all of you who thought you were his friend. He thinks you look funny, talk funny or smell funny. Sorry again.)

Gabriel: Already loves his baby brother. (Let's hope it lasts!) He likes to yank away all the layers of my highly restrictive and uncomfortable clothing until my belly is exposed and then he sits and talks to his baby bwah-yo...(whom he thinks we should name "baby bwah-yo".)...in baby voice. Which is pretty funny coming from an almost three year old who hasn't quiet mastered speaking himself.

As in: "Hi-Yo Bwah-Yo!! You come out now? You so coot! Tick-o, tick-o!!! Peek-a-boo!!!" ...said in a high, sing-song voice.

Gabey's best friend is Madeleine--who has cut her hair at least three times while under my obviously deficient supervision. They like to play "Doctor" but since most medical treatments are administered below the knee, I let it slide. (The other day Madeleine was giving Gabe his shots with a very large round Nerf gun. That would be quite the injection.) His best-frenemy

is Isaac. They alternate between sharing toys and playing together or fighting over toys and chasing each other.

And THAT is an update on our lives and my justification for blogging! (It's my journal! I'm doing it for the CHILDREN!!!)

It's 9 p.m. I'm being kicked in the throat. I'm going to go have some cold cereal now and then Doug and I will watch "Psych"!

The End.

*I looked this up just to make sure I'm using it right...and I AM!

Guest Posting Elsewhere Today

I wrote an essay for my Carlsbad friend Naomi to post on her new blog: Educated Mormon Women. (It's a great blog--you should add it to your Reader and consider submitting something!)

So if you need to delay washing the dishes for another 10 minutes, and you want to know my excuses for why I'm such a slacker, you can read it HERE.

P.S. While reading up on ADD/ADHD (for the sake of my boys, of course) I learned that many people with ADD enjoy doing things with their hands, like gardening and pottery (two of my favorite things); and also...they (we) like driving fast.

Go figure.

A Few Little Things...

• Fae had to come home from her mission* to have surgery. (Discovered because of a trip to the hospital for Dengue fever.) She's having a large something-that-shouldn't-be-there removed from somewhere-inside-her on Monday. Details aren't important here, people. The important part is: MAJOR SURGERY! So...Pray please!

• I just posted a recipe for Healthy Chocolate Chip Cookies on my recipe blog. You should check it out. If you're in to that. (www.gratuitousrecipes.blogspot.com) If you're not, I posted a recipe for Caramel Syrup--which is decidedly unhealthy--right before that one.

• Discussing the fact that "Veggie Tales" was on T.V. this morning, Sammy said "Yep! God just put it on dere!" ("there" as in, on TV, ...since it's Sunday today.)

• I'm now 35 weeks pregnant. In answer to your question(s): YES, I AM ready to pop. And as for how I feel??? GREAT (with child), large, cumbersome, ungainly, bloated, bruised, cranky, swollen, tired, slow, stretched, inhumanely battered, clumsy, sore, tired, uncomfortable, tired, uncomfortable, tired, and uncomfortable. And tired. Soooo...with that said...

• ...who wants to come be my un-paid nanny? We'll provide your food, lodging and travel adventures around Japan. Possibly even a plane ticket. Seriously. Please. I'M BEGGING!!! Our fave Rhode Island babysitter got a boyfriend so I don't think she's coming, darn her!

• We saw Avatar last night. It was cool enough I suppose. If you're in to that type of thing. For me personally, I get a little restless during multiple bloody, gorey battle scenes--(Just get back to the plot already!) and this movie had lots of bloody and gorey. That's why, for me, the most disturbing part of the whole night was when the movie ended, the lights came up, and a bunch of little kids filed out with their families. Like, REALLY LITTLE KIDS! Five, six, seven, and eight-year-olds! SERIOUSLY PARENTS! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING??? THEY'RE TOO YOUNG!!! IT'S PG-13 AND THIRTEEN IS PROBABLY TOO YOUNG!!! YOUNG=IMPRESSIONABLE! VIOLENCE IN, VIOLENCE OUT!!! GET A FRAKKIN' CLUE!!! ...But that's just my mild-mannered opinion...

• LAST THING! I read something from one of my blog posts to Doug tonight. He said, "So...why do you think you can only be funny in writing?" And I said "I don't know!" And then I punched him in the crotch**. See what happens when people watch violent movies?!?

G'night!!!

*She and her husband John were serving a "Family History" service mission in the Dominican Republic. Because of Faezer's health, they wont be able to go back and complete all 18 months. But we're all just happy she's getting surgery back in the U.S. (No offense, D.R.)

And FYI: Yes, they felt the earthquake very strongly but were not adversely affected. But they did get to do some volunteer service to help the Haitians including taking volunteers and supplies to the border which were then picked up and delivered on the other side. (They weren't allowed to cross into Haiti.)

**I didn't really. This time. I just threatened. But he laughed so that proves I'm funny in real life too!!!