Kicks

Today, we woke up early to go see USA vs Algeria at a bar with some friends...the place was packed, and Cati was hovering at the entrance, uncertain about plunging in. I sort of looked at her quizzically, thinking "Why are we standing at the door?" I keep forgetting that squeezing through small gaps between people is not only difficult for her at this point, but she has to think about sudden leaps and elbows flying as goals are scored and people cheer. Eventually we located Luke in the back and I plowed a path forward for her through the giddy fans. Watching the match was amazing fun, gripping, intense, and so much better for being surrounded by USA fans. Chanting, yelling, curses, the whole business. Anyway, when we finally scored in the 91st minute, pandemonium broke out. Screaming, chest bumping with strangers, high fives all round, etc. As I leaped to celebrate with our gang, I noticed Cati huddled in the corner, belly away from all the craziness. Anyway, for some reason that made me more excited, and I jumped and yelled some more. She was as excited as the rest of us, but just protecting the little bugger from inadvertent happiness. Good move. And then I realized that it's quite possible s/he will be born during the World Cup, which suddenly puts all that kicking in a different light.

Although Cati's mom has put in a very firm demand that the baby be born on July 22nd, since she'll be arriving the day before. It'll be interesting to see who wins that battle of wills!

Speaking of which, at the last day of birth class (we are now certified and legally allowed to give birth) one of the couples that departed the class early to have a baby (I don't know how they got away with it) returned to tell their story. It was very cool, and Ezra was extremely cute. The thing that struck me most of all, however, was that they had their baby at 36 weeks and 4 days (perfectly healthy and normal). Which is exactly the day we are on TODAY. The mom was studying for her finals, which were the next day, and the baby didn't have the good sense to wait a couple days. So, I've been thinking all along that we're pretty ready, but suddenly realized we are not THAT ready! Still some loose ends, Cati's wrapping things up at work, Mission Pictures has all manner of things hopping, and we're still a few fragments away from baby-prepared at home. Time to start making those lists and checking them twice!

Win free hugs - send the baby words of wisdom

I'm at work late transferring video files from one drive to another so I can take them home on the lighter drive (I'm on foot) to review over the weekend. Splendid, right?! But transferring the files makes me unable to view them (which is what I need to do next), so I'm catching up on my Pretty Pictures blog reading, where I found a neato quote contest Words to Live By, where folks send in pictures of quotes they like or put pictures up on a flickr page.

I'm not proposing anything quite so fancy, but I promise I'll compile the words of wisdom for Spork and post them up here if you comment them or get 'em to us. Send me an email or a text or carrier pigeon! We'll take pictures, audio recordings, sign language or even Sanskrit. Maybe we'll even send out a prize!

Ok, here is a onesie that just happens to have my totally impartial words of wisdom. ;)

And here is a close-up:

Almost There

One more week and Cati'll be at 37 weeks, or for those who haven't read 8 million pregnancy books, AT TERM. Though she's officially due July 17, any time after next week will be a normal birth time.

We're thinking lots about this new life, meanwhile trying to swim through the one we already each have.

You guess

Today's picture is a replacement for the usual update photo because Cati keeps sneaking out of the house without letting me take her picture. I took this during our homebirth prep class with a woman whose name is actually Jane Austin. Your job is to guess which is the giant gym ball, and which is Cati's belly. She was leaning on the ball in between leaning back on her toes to simulate some of the physical "challenge" of childbirth while I tried to do things to help. First, I was to just use touch with no talking, trying to massage, lightly touching, etc...then, I was to try to get her to say yes. Finally, she told me stuff she liked and then I did them. I was doing pretty well until midway through the "Yes" part when I asked her if she loved her mommy and daddy and her brother and she definitely said yes to all but then she started almost crying so I had to go back to things like ice cream and puppies. I shoulda known better, she does miss them an awful lot.

Meanwhile, Ms Austin is a fine teacher, with a nice mixture of fairly genuine new ageness and crass body fluid talk. Each leavens the other in a way that makes all of us fairly comfortable. While she lacks the original Jane Austen's economy of language, she's a bit more helpful on the topic of birth than our literary hero. One of the best parts of class is meeting all these other couples homebirthing, from all different walks of life and ages and backgrounds. Very helpful to feel part of a community. The other day, the craziest thing happened...Cati was telling someone she was from Marietta, and this guy pops up from across the room..."You're from Marietta? Me too!" Turns out, though they went to different high schools, they graduated the same year. AND, they have the same midwife. AND, they are due the day after us. Weird, eh? I guess them Georgians love their summertime...

Otherwise, all is going fairly well. Cati has been struggling with acute acid reflux (heartburn), but that seems to have eased somewhat. All our tests and checkups and whatnot continue to come out all grand, and our baby continues to dance the amniotic fluid dance. I alternate between panic and ecstasy, which seems to ratchet up even as Cati descends into a preternatural calm about child birth. I think Cati would laugh to hear this, but I've started just gazing at her to calm myself. She's the center of my storm, and a lovely place she is to spin around...

Braxton Hicks

Yes, you guessed correctly. This is the name of our child. Doesn't it have a nice ring to it?!

Ok, y'all... just kidding. Braxton Hicks is the name of practice contractions (totally normal) that are helping my body gear up for Spork's arrival in late July. It's strange because sometimes I can't tell the difference between one of these (my tummy tenses up) and a good hard baby stretch (my tummy tenses up).

We saw our midwife this morning. Seems like the baby is very much dive-bombing my pelvis. This is a good thing. She really had to fish around to find what she's pretty confident is a head, settling into the groove. Sometimes I have a vision of Spork in a WWII leather bomber helmet, arms pursed tightly by her side, toes pointed to the heavens, barreling out of the sky and down into my pelvis! 

The baby has a strong heartbeat and is doing just fine. And I have a strong heartbeat, too, but I have to lay off the sugar. I'm a sad sack who'll no longer get to eat vegan flan (delicious dinner with Casey last night), clean up desserts for vegans who can't eat them, or coerce and ransom cookies out of Shane (Arne's best friend and business partner). I do get to eat anything probiotic: Kombucha, Kimchi, Yogurt, Sourkraut. Oh goodie! ;)

We've been doing kick counts. You're supposed to be still twice per day and if you don't get 10 kicks in an hour or two, call your doctor. We have literally yet to get to 10 minutes before getting 10 kicks. Either that, or in our evening sessions, I keep falling asleep. 

More belly pictures very soon. Hugs to all!

Lucky Us

This week I'm feeling pretty grateful. Things have been going great with the little one, all tests look good, Cati feels mostly pretty good, lotsa kicks and action. We really feel like we have another person with us now. We can feel definite body parts as they rest against Cati's belly, though we're not always sure exactly what they are. Everyone's healthy and ready.

Speaking of ready, we went to our first birth prep class this week...though I should clarify, it was our first class, but not THE first class. Cati totally forgot the first one (though I share a little responsibility for this forgetting, the story is funnier if you just believe it was all Cati's fault), so for the second class we were extra careful. I was originally supposed to be gone on a shoot at Yosemite (canceled because of snow), so I helped with the remembering. Cati came home after work and double-checked the location and start time, and we settled in to a nice, leisurely dinner. When we got to the building, the front door was locked, which was a little weird. We knocked and someone let us in, and we come around the corner to see that this very full class was well underway. It was a fairly long walk to join them, with everyone's eyes on us, which was lots of fun. Apparently class started at 7pm, not 7:30. And we had thought we were 5 minutes early! Made me think that birth prep classes should be specially built in some way for pregnant moms and distracted dads where whenever you show up a class starts for you. How can we be expected to remember actual times and days? When Cati's not working or eating, she's sleeping. And me, well...um, I have no excuse.

We were relieved to find out that, despite missing a class, we will still be allowed to give birth. But we'll have to do some extra credit yoga poses and low moaning to get up to snuff, or no baby!

One cool note was that a classmate is the personal chef for the Gettys (very rich, old aristocratic family in SF) and cooked for the president last night when he was in town. Next class, she's volunteered to bring snacks. Yum! Sadly, we also volunteered (before we knew who she was), so we'll be taking off work all week and doing nothing but cooking so as not to embarrass ourselves.

I realize that's a long tangent away from my original statement about being grateful...We've had some tough news about other folks this last week or two, and I am sharply cognizant of how lucky we are to be burbling happily late to our homebirthing class and generally mooning around with a happy healthy baby always on our minds. It's funny how giving birth is such an incredibly happy experience, and yet it opens you up to so much potential pain (and joy too, of course) beyond what you ever allowed yourself to experience. Not just in the challenges and potential tragedies of pregnancy and birth itself, but once this being comes into your life, everything that hurts them will hurt you too...and no matter how hard you try, in one way or the other, you will cause them hurt, if only by eventually leaving this world.

Anyway, sorry for the melancholy turn, but considering all, we're incredibly happy, and I guess this is my mopey way of saying thank you. To whomever. It's not always gonna be this sweet (it'll often be sweeter), and I am grateful.

Birth and day

Well, today I was awoken to the sweet smell of biscuits darling Cati was baking for my birthday in bed breakfast. Using a tip from her friend Hannah's story about her Granny's biscuits, I tracked down some White Lily flour online and Cati's been a biscuit baking fiend ever since. Much to my benefit...

Anyway, it got me to thinking...this whole birthday thing, we usually think about it as celebrating how old we are, or how old we've just turned, or fearing how old we've become. But with the baby near, I am suddenly and pointedly reminded that this is a celebration of my birth. My actual age matters little, but I DO like remembering that my mother was so good as to bring me into the world, and how great a thing being born ultimately is when you have a great family. Despite various reconfigurations, I've never doubted for a moment that my family loves me lots, and what better world can anyone be born into? I am hopeful that this next birth-day that we will celebrate will be a similar gift for our child. I can't imagine it otherwise, I feel so much love flooding through me already for this little rolling, kicking, elbowing, hiccuping wonder.

Sometimes one can get in a rut thinking about all of the burdens our children inherit, a world in distress, economic armageddons, dwindling resources, etc...I find myself taking a shower and contemplating whether or not our child will even know what it's like to be allowed to take a shower every day. And yet, when I think of my own childhood, none of the things that I'm guessing my parents fretted about too stick out. All I remember is pancakes on Sunday mornings, hikes in the mountains, looking for wild mushrooms, dinners at Grandma's, music-making nights, taking care of goats, etc...There were certainly sad and difficult times, but none that I can remember involved the outside world really. So, that makes me feel better about celebrating birthdays. It's a day to celebrate the bubble of love we all get to enter just once, but every year is a reminder of our luck in staying in that bubble. Ok, time to get back to building this new bubble.