This is an account of Benjamin's birth (yes, though I had my doubts, he was finally born), picking up where I left off from the last post:

Wednesday, 10 Oct. Donald and I made yet another trip to Chapel Hill. We met Maureen at. . .I don't remember what time now, but sometime in the morning. She examined me and, lo and behold, the Foley catheter, while it hadn't fallen out, had made some difference to my cervix. She estimated that I was between three and four centimeters dilated. This was great news. Only one problem: I was no longer contracting.

Initially the plan had been to immediately admit me to UNC and get the induction process going. Unfortunately, UNC was having a rush of pregnant women delivering babies, so Maureen went with Plan B, which entailed officially admitting me to the birth center and using homeopathic methods of inducing labor.

So after going downstairs (to the birthing rooms), Maureen started pumping me full of blue and black cohosh. Every 30 mins I would take a shot of the two herbs mixed with distilled water. It tasted like. . .nothing really. She also bound my belly up in a sheet (in hopes of pushing Benjamin down toward the exit sign) and had me walk. Donald and I took a nice stroll down a little wooded road behind the birth center, but by midday it had gotten warm enough that I no longer felt good being outdoors, so there was quite a bit of sitting, or lying down, doing nothing.

Hours passed. Still no contractions.

Liz and the kids showed up around 1 or 2. My Dad and Carol showed up, too, after awhile. My mother came for a little bit. We watched a movie. At some point Maureen finally convinced me to drink castor oil. I'd made up my mind that I wasn't going to go that route, having read nothing conclusive online about its effectiveness, but I let her talk me into it because, I mean, what the hell, I wasn't doing anything else, might as well give it a try.

It really wasn't so bad. She mixed the oil with coca-cola and then had me chase that concoction down with a Reese's cup. I held my nose so I couldn't really taste the oil, but nothing was going to mask the consistency. Urg. But the peanut butter cup made it all better.

I expected it to work immediately, but it didn't. No effect whatsoever for. . .two hours or more. And then it really wasn't the horrific event that I imagined it would be. (The Big Mac and french fries I ate for lunch probably had just as much to do with the gastrointestinal issues I had as anything!) Coincidentally, though, shortly after the effects of the castor oil began, contractions also began. (My theory on the castor oil thing is that I eat enough oil and other rich stuff--cream, butter--that castor oil was not a big deal to my system.)

It was. . .5:45ish and we were sitting around, doing nothing much (which is what we did most of the day) and I started having mild contractions. Once the contractions seemed as though they were around to stay, Donald started timing them and they were fairly consistently five minutes apart. At this point, Maureen had been bugging UNC for a room and we were waiting to get the word from the hospital that we could come over.

Somewhere around 7:30, when it was obvious the contractions were around to stay awhile, Maureen had me go for another walk. Everyone came along and we walked around the block. As were coming up the back side of the birth center, I could hear someone calling my name from the parking lot. UNC had called to say that they had a room and I was to get there ASAP. So, scramble, scramble, we got up all of our stuff and headed down the road to UNC. Donald dropped Suzanne (a GSK co-worker and licensed masseuse whom I'd "hired" to be my personal masseuse during labor) and me at the door and we went and got into the room while he parked the car.

They started pitocin almost as soon as I got into the room, but Maureen said that they didn't give me much at all, so I don't know how much of the labor can be attributed to pitocin and how much to the fact that my body had started the process itself, but not long after I got to UNC the contractions really started to get intense. Very intense. Extremely intense. So intense that at one point I wished that I would die rather than endure the pain. If it hadn't been for Suzanne massaging my back and Donald letting me lean my forehead into his hand, I'd have never been able to handle as much of those contractions as I did. They were bad. I'd never experienced anything like with William or Lizzie because I'd gotten an epidural earlier in the process.

I had to get an epidural this time, too.

I still feel kind of like a failure because, I mean, here I was going to have the all natural birth experience at the birth center, no IVs, no monitors, no pitocin, no epidural. . .but there I was, laid up in the hospital, monitor wires everywhere, IV line in my hand. So much for my plans. But I thought, well, the least I can do is have a birth with no pain meds. However, despite all the awful contractions, I just wasn't dilating. And the pain. . .the pain was wearing me out. So I eventually gave up there, as well, and had an epidural. I must admit, it was wonderful to see the contractions spike on the monitor but not to experience them. Still. . .

Oh well. The best laid plans. . .

So, anyway, around, I don't know, sometime early morning on the 11th, I started feeling the contractions again. Nowhere near the level of pain as before, but no longer was I able to sit back and watch them happen on the monitor without being able to feel them. Eventually I told Maureen that it felt as though the baby had lodged himself smack between my legs and that I thought that a push or two would be a good thing. After examining me and discovering that I'd finally made my way to 10 centimeters, she agreed. The time was somewhere around 5 a.m. Donald was on my left, along with Lizzie and Liz. Suzanne was on my right, helping to hold my right leg.

I pushed.

And I felt him move down.

I pushed again.

He moved some more.

I pushed again.

I could feel him there, crowning. Maureen had me feel his head with my hand. He couldn't stay there, it hurt too badly.

I pushed again.

This time I don't know what part was where, only that the pain was unbearable and he had to get out of there. Had to.

I pushed again.

And again, taking only a moment to catch my breath.

It was 5:39 a.m.

One more push. . .and there he was! On my belly instead of in it. All 10 pounds of him. Wet, slimy, stunned. Glorious. Beautiful. Gorgeous.

Our son.

Benjamin Radcliff Zepp.

I'm in love.

Let me see if I can quickly capture the past two days.

Yesterday we went to the birth center where Maureen, the midwife, swept my cervix. Almost immediately after, I started having contractions. She sent us to UNC hospital for an ultrasound. The ultrasound indicated that the baby, while still enjoying a thriving uterine environment, measures at a birth weight greater than 11 pounds! After Maureen got the results of the ultrasound and saw how regularly I was contracting, she sent us out to get some lunch and walk around, too see how things progressed. Contractions continued, going from 5 mins apart to 2 or 3 minutes apart. We went back to the birth center at 3:30. Maureen got a room ready downstairs and had me hang out in there, with my belly all bound up, to see what would happen. I guess we stayed there. . .I don't remember, a couple of hours, maybe? Nothing else much happened, no dilation, so we went home with instructions to call this a.m.

This a.m. I called at 8:30. Was told to meet Maureen at 12:30. Went in, had an exam, still no dilation. A doctor from UNC was there, she examined me, swept the cervix again. She and Maureen discussed my options. Option 1 was to go home, come again tomorrow a.m., do another sweep and see what happens, if no change then they would insert a Foley catheter into my cervix to see if that would help dilate it. Option 2 was to go ahead and insert the Foley catheter today, go home, if no progress tonight then to go to UNC tomorrow morning to be medically induced. I went with option 2.

They inserted the Foley catheter, after much painful poking and prodding, and I immediately began to have contractions. We stayed at the birth center a couple of hours and were given the choice to hang out there or go walking around Chapel Hill and see what, if anything, happened, or to just go home and see what would happen. I chose home. And here I am still. It's now 10:15 p.m. Tuesday evening.

Contractions have basically stopped. Although I still have the occasional one that really hurts like hell. There's blood at the end of the catheter, which freaked me out a bit, but Maureen says that it is normal and perhaps a sign of dilation. But since contractions have more or less stopped. . .I dunno. . .I'm thinking that there's really nothing going on. What good are contractions without dilation and what good is dilation without contractions? And why, oh why, won't this baby come out?!

It looks to me, at this point, like I'll be at the hospital in the a.m. But. . .wait. . .the midwife just called. I could be going to the birth center first and trying some of their herbal induction stuff. Good grief! Who knows what's gonna happen now? I'm going to go get in the bath and then go to bed.

To be continued. . .

Sunday, 1:30ish, and I'm happy to report that I have lost my mucous plug. This sounds, I know, rather icky and unappealing, but to me it's fantastic. It's an indication that something, at least, is happening related to oncoming labor. Of course, the pregnancy books and literature all say that loss of this mucousy (is that a word?) thing means only that something is going on with the cervix, it does not necessarily mean that labor is right around the corner. In fact What to Expect. . . says that labor could still be weeks away. Good grief, let's hope not!

It's October 6th. Five days past my "ultrasound" due date. Eight days past my "calendar" due date. Since it would seem the ultrasound due date is the more accurate of the two, I'll go with that one as the official due date, but either way you look at it, I'M LATE!!!

And I'm extremely frustrated.

I just don't understand why things are not progressing. For three weeks now I've been exactly one centimeter dilated. Supposedly I am pretty well effaced, but effacement doesn't mean a thing without dilation. And of course I can't help but wonder, what is wrong with me! What is going on internally that is causing this whole process not to progress. And what would they have done about it 100 years ago, pre-inducing drugs and hospital intervention? Would I be facing the death of my child? Or me? Or both? Because at some point the womb becomes an unhealthy place and the baby becomes distressed. So what then?

I know come Monday that they'll start looking at such scenarios and trying to prevent them from occurring, but I can't help thinking the worst is going to happen. And I can't help thinking that somehow I'm defective. Here I am, Mrs. Fertility with the wide, child-birthing hips, but without the ability to actually go into labor. And all these months that I've been dreaming about my calm, serene birth-center birth are going to be just that, a dream. In the end I'm going to have to be strapped to a fetal monitor, flat on my back in a hospital bed with scores of strangers poking and prodding at my most intimate of body parts.

And of course there are fears about the baby. Is he going to be OK until they get around to sending me in for ultrasounds to determine the health of the placenta and the level of amniotic fluid? Is there something wrong with him already and that's the reason that I'm not dilating--there's a defect there that they haven't seen?

I'm scared.

And frustrated. And angry. And increasingly depressed.

I'm to the point to where I don't want to do anything except curl up on the couch and sleep so I don't have to think and worry. Unfortunately, sleep continues to be elusive due to achy knees and hips, an overburdened bladder, and as of this past weekend, a head cold.

I know that one day soon this all has to be over, one way or the other. But exactly how it's going to end is the mystery and it's driving me crazy thinking about it. Chances are I'm just being impatient and paranoid. . .but if so, I really can't help myself. Something just doesn't feel right. . .

Well, we're back from our visit to the midwives.

No change since last visit re: cervical ripeness, unfortunately. Was sent home with instructions to be sure to take evening primrose oil each and every night and to come back early next week for a "stripping" of the membranes around my cervix.

I've pretty much decided that none of this stuff really works and that I'm just not granola crunchy enough to be going to a birth center where one obviously has to suspend belief in scientific proof of efficacy and instead be willing to accept anecdotal evidence as sound proof. Sorta like people who believe in religion have to do. Wait. . .

Yes, as nice and cozy as I believe giving birth at this place is going to be (if I'm able to give birth without medical induction--something else I'm beginning the feeling isn't going to happen), I would trade it all right now for a scheduled induction. I would. Honest. I might regret those words later on, but right now that's how I feel.

Anyway, off to finish a movie now. Maybe something will happen tonight? Maybe, maybe, maybe. I can always hope, anyway.

Today is D day. Due date day. But no sign yet that Benjamin has any inclination of coming out and joining us anytime soon.

We have to leave here in a moment for my weekly visit with the midwives. I'm hoping that they'll, through the exam, be able to tell me that something has changed, but I have to admit, I'm not going to hold my breath. I just don't feel like there's been any change.

Will update the blog after the visit.

Have I mentioned before that I'm tired of being pregnant? Standing is uncomfortable, sitting is uncomfortable, lying down is uncomfortable, walking is uncomfortable--everything is uncomfortable. My hips ache, my feet hurt, I'm as swollen as an engorged tick, and I'm tired because I have to wake up at least three times a night to either flip over or use the bathroom.

But I went in to see the midwife today and she examined me and I'm only a centimeter dilated--the same as I was the last visit, two weeks ago. Total bummer. And I'm beginning to think that all these "natural" methods of trying to help speed things along are a load of crap. I did acupuncture, nothing. I've been using the oil of primrose, nada. I'm beginning to get really discouraged.

I talk to the baby everyday now on the way in to work. I tell him that it's time to come out and meet face to face. That I understand how nice and cozy it is in there where he is, but how great his room looks and how he's really going to like meeting everyone and would he please go ahead and make an appearance already.

And yeah, besides being physically miserable and exhausted, I am ready to finally meet this child. I just can't wait to lay eyes on him. To see who he looks like, what color eyes he has, whose hair he inherited, whose temperament he has ended up with. To hold him and smell him and rock him and nurse him and play with him and teach him things and just be with him. This stage--the pregnancy--has been fun, but now it's time to move on to the next event: having a baby.

So when will he come? I'm beginning to get this awful feeling that he's going to be like his brother and simply never want to come out. Should that happen they'll eventually send me to UNC hospital and induce me, which would be extremely disappointing because that is not the way I have planned to deliver. But I suppose at that point it really won't matter. By that time it would be close to the middle of October and if how I feel now gets steadily worse as the days progress, then by the time mid-October rolls around I'm betting that I'd be willing to do most anything just so long as the end result is having the baby and being unpregnant.

Urg.

Well, I really need to write some thank you notes, but I'm full of Mexican food and Baskin-Robbins ice cream and I'm just not feeling particularly industrious, so I believe that I'll go lie down and try to get as comfortable as I can and read a book.

Maybe next time I get a chance to post I'll have had the baby! A person can dream, anyway. . .

Hi Benjamin!

Guess what? You're 37 weeks old now (gestational age)! It's time to go ahead and start thinking about coming out to see us.

Please.

Mommy is getting very tired of hauling you around in her uterus because you're getting to be such a big boy now. It would be sooo much easier on Mommy's back and hips if she could occasionally carry you in a sling or, even better, put you down on your own in your pretty little bassinet.

The midwives also agree that it's OK for you to come and be with us out here. So will you please consider it soon? As much fun as you and I have had together, we're going to have even more fun once you decide to come out. I promise!

Will you at least give it some thought? Ideally you'll wait until after this Saturday, because Daddy and I have plans to go to a bed & breakfast Saturday in Durham. But if you decide that you can't wait that long, that's perfectly OK by me. Daddy and I can always reschedule and go another time.

Just think about it.

I love you!

Love,
Mommy

It's official, I'm ready for this to be over. Being pregnant has, for the most part, been an enjoyable experience, but I'm at the point now where every bit of the fun has worn off and I'm simply miserable and ready to have my body back.

It's 2:20 a.m., Labor Day. I can't sleep. I was asleep, a little while ago, on the couch. But then William came home, with three friends in tow, which added to the two friends Lizzie has over, has resulted in seven tween- or teen-aged monsters lurking in various areas of my house. While they aren't the core reason I can't sleep--that has to do with only being able to position myself either on my right side or my left side, meaning that either my right arm and leg or my left arm and leg aches and falls asleep throughout the night, depending--they are now a large part of the reason that I can't get back to sleep.

William and his friends are upstairs in the bonus room and Lizzie and her friends are downstairs in her room. I could go upstairs and banish William and his friends to his room and take over the couch up there, but it wouldn't be any better than I have it down here, on the living room sofa, where I can clearly hear Lizzie and her friends in her room, so I may as well stay here. At least I expect pre-teen girls to be goofy and silly and, therefore, am not as likely to go biting heads off as I would be if I had to listen to teen-aged boys acting goofy and silly. As it is, I'm sorely tempted to go round them all up, girls and boys alike, and dump them off at their respective houses.

It's not been a good evening for me in general. I was feeling out of sorts for no explainable reason earlier in the night. I'm still feeling that way, only now I have also tacked on insomnia, physical discomfort, and general pissiness at having so many !@#$%^ people in my home. I keep reminding myself that it's a good thing that the children's friends want to be here, because that way I can keep tabs on them all. But tonight I'm having a hard time feeling positive about such things because all I really want is peace and quiet and a good, comfortable night's sleep.

Not that I'd be likely to get that even if there weren't any children here. Again, sleeping is simply not comfortable these days. Although I generally don't suffer from insomnia, I do wake up on and off throughout the night with a full bladder and sore arms and legs, never sleeping for any length of time at any one stretch. Oh, what I wouldn't give to be able to sleep either flat on my back or splayed out on my tummy! Soon enough such positions will be possible again, I know. In the meantime, I'm not sure what to do, except accept being achy and sleep deprived and try not to verbally or otherwise harm the children and/or their friends.

I'm going to sign off now and give the living room couch another try. I was able to sleep there earlier, hopefully I can again. Of course, if these girls don't shut up soon. . .

There was a comic in the paper the other day that sort of summed up my approach to this whole blog thing. Of course I can't remember which comic it was (I can hardly remember my own name these days), and I can't find the !@#$ paper either, but it essentially was about how one starts out with high expectations and aspirations for writing monumentally important thoughts and ideas but eventually ends up reporting the simple, mundane, everyday stuff, such as what was served for dinner the night before.

That is exactly what has happened here. I mean, sure, I do want to talk about some the mundane stuff, because a year from now I'll have forgotten that I was craving fig newtons and felt like a Mack truck had run over me for most of the last month, but I also was hoping to find a place to share some of my "deeper" thoughts and feelings about this pregnancy and about the person I am currently creating here in my uterus and I really haven't done much of that. I certainly think about such things all the time, but I never seem to get what's swirling around in my head to come out here on the screen.

So what stops me from being able to share that stuff? It's just too much work? Lack of writing ability? I'm afraid it'll sound trite? Or stupid? I get bored and distracted too easily? A lack of time?

All of the above?

Sigh.

Oh well, I am hereby making a promise to myself to do better next time. Right now the cleaners are here and I have to find somewhere to hide out.

Hi Benjamin,
Well, we had our baby shower today. We had a nice turnout--Aunt Liz seems to feel that approximately 50 people were here--and we (well, you more so than me) received a lot of lovely gifts.

I'm glad it's all over though, to be honest. I was combing my hair earlier in the day while getting ready and I pulled a muscle in my back. So it was tough having to play the happy & polite hostess when all I really wanted to do was go lie down and make my back stop hurting. Not to mention that the six women who threw the shower for me (Aunt Liz, my mother, Shaile, Rayna, Willa, & Kristen) all ended up nearly killing each other, which was pretty stressful for me. Not that any of them were rude or ugly to each other today (well, except for maybe one little episode), still. . . It was fun and it was nice seeing everyone, but it's also nice that it's over.

Even though we got a lot of stuff, I still have many things to get. We didn't get a swing, or a playpen, or a car seat thingy for the stroller, or a diaper bag, or nearly enough blankets, or any wipes and diapers (we're going to use cloth, but they recommend not starting those until two weeks after you're born), or a breast pump. . . Anyway, point is, I now have a lot of shopping to do and not too much time to do it in.

Well, your father, it seems, overindulged in the wine today and is now snoring loudly here beside me, so I think it's time for me to go harass him and keep him awake until it's closer to bedtime. (Plus he said he'd rub my back and I intend to make him live up to that promise.)

Much love,
Mommy

Hi Benjamin!

It's been a little while since I checked in here, just thought I'd write and give a brief update on how things are going.


Actually, not too much going on lately, which is good. I don't expect much action for another month or so. You're growing, I'm growing, we're both doing well.


We have finally gotten the nursery painted and most of the furniture in it (we're still waiting on the dresser to come in) and it's all coming together nicely, as I envisioned it. There are still some small things to do in there, such as hang artwork and put books and toys on your shelves, but that's just "fun" stuff that I can wait to do even after you're here. Especially considering as how you will mostly be in my room in a bassinet for the first few months after you're born. Mommies are very paranoid and feel the need to keep the baby close by. (Or at least this mommy is like that, anyway.)


This weekend your aunt, your sister, and several of my friends are putting together a baby shower at our house. I'm looking forward to it. Mainly because after this weekend I'll know for sure what I don't have and can go out and get it. I have held off buying a lot of things until after this shower in the event that someone else gets it. (I'm not the best about returning stuff, so it's better that I only have one of something.) Of course I'm also looking forward towards seeing everyone and eating lots of yummy things. :-)

Speaking of yummy things, your father sent me a link to some study wherein pregnant rats who ate a lot of junkfood had baby rats who preferred junkfood. Now I'm not a rat and neither are you, and the study did say that a human correlation really couldn't be had at this time, but IF there's any truth to it then I think you're doomed to like junkfood because these days sweets are high on the list of foods that sound appealing to me (which is a rather short list most days). Some of my current "favorite" sweet things are: fig newtons, figs & goat cheese on crackers, ice cream (preferably in a waffle cone), pudding (I do try to limit it to sugar free), oreos, Loco Pops (Mexican Popsicles available only in Durham/Chapel Hill), and Mellow Mushroom's oatmeal cookies.

Besides sweets I still have a thing for Mexican and Indian foods. Other than that, though, it gets tough sometimes to think of things to eat that sound good. Some days I have to force myself to eat dinner simply because I know I need to.

Other pregnancy goings on? I am getting tired again, sort of a repeat of the way I felt the first trimester. Bone tired. Dog tired. Want to lie down and nap all the time tired. It doesn't help any that we've had a couple of intense heat waves where the temp has been >100 degrees F for several days in a row. Heat like that saps the strength out of "normal" people and it really does a number on those of us of the pregnant persuasion.

Oh well, speaking of tired, I think it's about time to call it a night.

Love you!

Mommy

Dear Benjamin,
Your father accompanied me on one of my regularly scheduled visits to the birth center today. You are doing just fine: heart rate is in the 140s, you're measuring normally (they measure my tummy to determine this), my blood pressure is absolutely fine, etc.

We actually got to see you a week or so ago. We had a "4-D" ultrasound performed, and although you were mostly hidden behind the placenta, we still got a few glimpses of your face. From what I could see, it would appear that you have my nose and perhaps your father's chin. We'll have to wait another two months, though, before we'll be able to tell for sure! What I could definitely see is that you have all your fingers and toes and that you're are absolutely a boy-child. (I have to admit, I was still a bit skeptical about your sex, considering what we went through earlier in the pregnancy.)

This past weekend your sister, your great-aunt, and I started painting the nursery. I'll need to do another coat, which I hope to get accomplished this coming weekend, and then we can begin setting up furniture. Everything furniture-wise has come in, with the exception of the dresser and the glider rocker. (That reminds me, I need to call about the rocker--it's about time for it to be here.) The baby shower is planned for August 19 and I would ideally like to have the nursery at least mostly together by then.

So let's see, what's going on with me at this point pregnancy-wise? Not much, I'm happy to report. I've had some Braxton-Hicks contractions, but those are completely normal, especially considering that you are my third pregnancy. I'm feeling pretty ginormous now, but in reality I'm not all that big, at least as far as my belly is concerned, simply because you're not all that big. The doctor who performed the ultrasound put you in the 29th percentile for your "age" (using measurements of your head, legs, etc. along with your due date to make the determination), which means that while you are absolutely within the normal range, you're on the small side. This is exciting news for me, for it seems reasonable to assume that a smallish baby will result in a not-so-painful birth. Yay!

So even though I feel huge and ungainly, and sometimes simply walking around takes a lot of effort, I am, for the most part, able to get around and function in an absolutely "normal" fashion. Sleeping is really my biggest challenge right now. First off, you tend to wake up just when I'm trying to doze off, and you move and turn and toss and kick and generally make it such that I can't relax due to all the activity in my abdomen. But then, once I am (we are) both finally asleep, getting and staying comfortable is an all night affair.

At this point I have two basic sleeping positions to choose from: right side sleeping or left side sleeping. I usually start out on my right side with one pillow under my head, another behind my back, and my long body pillow in front of me with one end between my knees and the other supplementing the pillow under my head. I normally stay in this position until either my hip and knee hurts enough to wake me up, or my ear gets so sore I can't stand it anymore. At that point I flip to the left side, which is pretty much a mirror image of right side sleeping except the back pillow is absent, staying instead in front me, under the body pillow. Again, I stay in this position until the hip, the knee, the ear, or all three at the same time, wake me up. Or until I wake up to go pee, which happens at least once, but here lately it's been more like two or three times, a night. Fun stuff. So while I am enjoying this pregnancy, I am definitely looking forward towards being able to sleep "all by myself" again, and in more than two positions.

Oh, so I think that we have once and for all decided on your middle name (note, though, I said "think"--this is still subject to change, but for now it's been decided): Radcliff. I'm not certain that is how Radcliff should be spelled. Your father will need to consult his family bible to determine that, but for now that's how I'll spell it. Radcliff is your father's paternal grandmother's maiden name. It was also your father's father's middle name.

I had previously decided that we wouldn't "do" family names, but Radcliff is OK because it has nothing to do with my family. See, my family is still pretty much around, and they all tend to want me to name you after them, so I obviously can't choose a name from my family because then someone will be upset that I chose, say, my father's name to give you instead of, oh, my uncle's or something. But your father's family is, unfortunately, mostly gone, so there isn't anyone who will be upset by our choosing Radcliff over someone else's name. And besides, Radcliff is, to me, an interesting name. It's unusual, yet not too much so. And it has a certain. . .sophistication to it. It's aristocratic and erudite and masculine. It has a definite snobbish undertone to it. Anyway, if it sticks--that is, if we don't end up changing our minds--I hope you like it. There's history to it, if nothing else.

Well, enough blogging for now. It's getting late. Time to get the pillows out and begin our nightly ritual!

Much love,
Mommy

Dear Benjamin (I shall refer to you by your name now instead of as Blob, as you are much more baby than blob at this stage in the game),

Happy third trimester!

Yes, hard to believe, but we're going into the third and final trimester (hence the "tri" in trimester). Yesterday marked the beginning of the 27th week. Everything I've read says that were you to be born now you'd have a 90% change of surviving. Not that I want you to be born now, I hope that you will wait until you're fully cooked before trying to make your way out, but if you decide to come early I feel good knowing that you'll most likely be OK.

I'm actually feeling pretty good, all things considered. Sure, I've gained 20 lbs and that doesn't make me terribly happy, but 20 lbs in seven months isn't so bad (I think I gained close to 50 with your brother), and all in all I feel great.

Oh well, your father has cooked dinner and says it's time to eat. Goat cheese pizza, mmm-mmmmm! I'll write more later!

Love,
Mommy

I haven't written in awhile and, because I'm extremely tired and don't feel like working at the moment, I thought I'd take a moment and make an entry in the blog. (Which I really need to change the name of since little Benjamin--and that is his name, but ssshhhhh, don't tell anyone--is certainly not very blob-like anymore. But I'll worry with that later.)

I am not tired because of pregnancy stuff, I'm tired because I stayed up until 2 a.m. reading last night. I was reading the book The Perfect Man: A Novel. It was, obviously (since I stayed up until 2 a.m. to finish it), a very good book. That's the problem I have with books though--if they're really, really good I want to do nothing but read, and I mean nothing. Not sleep, not work, not take care of chores, just read. Today, however, I am paying for my obsessive reading habit. Fortunately, I have to leave early to pick up Lizzie from school, so I can go home and catch a small nap before I have to take her to swim practice.

Pregnancy-wise how am I feeling? Actually, not too bad. I am certainly feeling pregnant now; that is, I feel big and bulky and reaching down to tie my shoes is already an ordeal. (Thank FSM for flip-flops and loafers!) But otherwise I feel OK physically. Not too tired, not too emotional, not overly sensitive to smells anymore, etc. All these hormones are making my skin look exceptionally horrible, but that's to be expected. Kinda like having PMS for days on end. But yeah, all things considered I am doing well, I think. I'm trying to swim at least three times a week; more if I can. Swimming is about the only exercise I do that doesn't make me feel like an awkward moose. I had to quit aerobics because of the step part--I just feel as though I don't have much coordination right now and, besides, it's too much of a chore maneuvering all this extra weight around. I was trying to walk, as well, at least three days a week, but I haven't done much of that lately for one reason or the other, and with the weather turning warm I am not likely to start back on any kind of regular basis (although it is good for Donald and when I don't walk he doesn't walk so I probably ought to walk just to get him up and active).

I wonder about Blob/Benjamin constantly now. How he's doing in there. What he's looking like. If everything is OK internally. (Please-oh-please don't let all that wine I drank before I knew I was pregnant matter!)

I saw a little boy at the pool this weekend--a toddler--with this mop of curly blond hair and I couldn't help but wonder: Will Benjamin have thick, curly hair in the manner of Donald's, or merely thick, straight as a stick hair, like mine? Will he be towheaded or will he share my mousy brown locks? Will he be sensitve and sweet, or will he be rough and tumble, banging his toys together and pow-powing everything with the guns he'll make from whatever object is available to him? Will he like to read, or eshew books as my other two have, despite the hours and hours I read to them when they were small? Will he be athletic and tall, or studious and stout? I can't wait to find these things out. I can't wait to meet him.

Yikes! I have a 2 p.m. meeting and it's now. . .2 p.m.!!!

Oh well, back to work!

Dear Blob,
It's official, you're a BOY! (And you're not much of a Blob anymore, you are looking like a regular ol' baby these days, so I guess I need to maybe change my greeting to you.)

The doctor was wrong, wrong, wrong last time. You're not a Lillian or a Zoe, you are most certainly a Benjamin or a Simon!

I (we) had an ultrasound two days ago. You are 18 weeks along, and the doctor managed to get images that distinctly show which sex you are.

I have to admit, because I had been thinking of you for over a month as a girl that it was a bit of a shock to discover that you're a boy. I initially was preferring a boy, but then they said "girl" and so I started to get excited about that. So I'm having to get my head back around "boy" again.

I am, quite honestly, just happy that you appear to be a healthy baby. Your sex is really secondary to that.

The main reason to know what sex you are is to get started on the nursery. And to do that, tonight your father and I are going out to Babies R Us and looking around. I have to start by finding some kind of crib bedding I can tolerate. I haven't seen much online that I like, so I'm hoping that in person I will find something. From there we'll do furniture and paint walls and such. Exciting stuff!

I'll keep you posted.

Much love,
Mommy

Dear Blob,

I felt you move for the first time this past Thursday night.

I was in class and you took my breath away with a kick or a punch or something. Twice you did this. Then you merely fluttered for a bit. Since then I have felt tiny little movements, mainly at night when I'm sitting still. The feeling is something akin to a bunch of little butterflies rustling around inside of my abdomen. I've been poking at you to see if I can get you to poke back the way you did on Thursday, but I've not gotten anything out of you yet. It's such a neat feeling to finally have you move around and announce your presence in such a tangible way. I am looking forward towards more of same, and especially when it becomes strong enough to share with your father.

It's been a long weekend for me: Your brother turned 17 on Friday and between his birthday and his prom that was held Saturday, it was quite a stressful time--the whole weekend as well as the week leading up to it all. Stressful for him because of the anxiety associated with the two events. Stressful for me because of the changes in his demeanor and behavior caused from all the anxiety. But it's finally Sunday and the two events have passed (we had the family over to celebrate today) and so maybe now I'll be able to get some rest.

Not this coming Tuesday, but the next Tuesday I'll go back to have one last ultrasound. I'm really looking forward to that, particularly because at that point we should be able to tell beyond a doubt what sex you are. As I believe I mentioned before, the doctor was fairly certain last time that you were a girl, but I have held off on buying any clothes or doing any decorating until I could know for sure. Lizzie keeps calling you her brother, despite what the doctor said! I believe that she is feeling a slight twinge of jealousy at the thought of having to surrender her status as the baby girl. I am not worried though--I know that no matter which sex you turn out to be, when you two finally meet you're going to love her so her so much, and she you, that she'll forget all about how worried she was at the thought of your arrival.

Much love,
Mommy

Dear Blob,

We had another picture of you taken this past week. http://zeppmusi.vshost.com/Family/Baby/

Now that you're 12 weeks along you're really starting to look much more like a human baby than a blob. Might have to consider renaming the blog again, I guess!

The doc says that you appear to him to be a girl. He's not 100% certain, but all signs are pointing that way. I have to admit that I was sort of hoping you were a boy--mainly so that your sister wouldn't be more traumatized than she already is by all of this--but now that the idea of you being a girl has had a chance to sink in, I'm thrilled. Having had one of both already, I know the pros and cons of raising each sex and, truth be told, little girls are just easier. Plus they're fun to dress. :-)

So, I'm happy that you're going to be a girl--if that is, indeed, what you will be. Because there's still a chance that doc got it wrong, I'm not painting the nursery yet. We go back during the first part of May for one more scan and at that time he'll be able to tell for certain, so I'm holding off until then to buy, paint, or decorate anything.

Right now I think your name will be Lillian Grace.

I was going for Zoe to begin with, but there are just so many Zoe's, and Lillian, to me, is just so much more pretty and feminine.

Doc also says that everything looked really good as far as your overall health and well-being. The scan I had was to try to determine how high the risk is that you might have a birth defect such as Down's syndrome. I'll get the official lab reports back this week, but preliminary findings--that is, what he could see in the scan--indicate that all is well with you. I was glad to hear that because I do worry a little since I am an "older" mom and your father is much, much older than most typical new dads. But I think you're going to be fine.

Until next time,

Much love,

Mommy

Dear Blob,

Nothing really new to report. Just had a few minutes and decided to write.

I stayed home today (Tuesday, March 13) because one of your sister's pet rats were sick and had to go to the vet. Turned out she (the rat) had a rather large tumor in her abdomen so the decision was made to euthanize her. I decided that it would not be ideal to tell your sister this news over the phone, so I chose to work at home so that I could meet her when she got off the bus this afternoon.

I'm so full of pregnancy hormones that I couldn't even stay in the room while they euthanized it. I just can't deal with anything like that right now. I mean, I wasn't especially close to the rat or anything, but the thought of having to put it to death just made me so sad I could hardly bear it. (I also react this way to sad news stories and movie plots. It's a pregnancy thing. When I was pregnant with Elizabeth I had to stop reading the paper for awhile because it upset me too much.)

I think, though, that overall I'm starting to get out of the first trimester "ick" and into the wonderful second trimester. My energy level still isn't up to par, but the food thing seems to abating. And I do have more energy than I did even a few weeks ago. I still have to force myself to go exercise, but that was the case even before I became pregnant!

I have to admit that sometimes I have a lot of self-doubt about whether or not getting pregnant was the right thing to do. I mean, there's William and Elizabeth, almost ready to tackle life on their own, and here I am starting completely over with another one. Of course, I had a lot of doubt when I was pregnant with them, as well, though for different reasons. And in the end, I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Strange, really. I remember vividly when I was pregnant with your sister thinking to myself: How on earth am I going to be able to handle another child? How can I possibly love another child as much as I love William? But then she was born and my heart just opened up and all those doubts just flew right out the window. So now when I wonder how on earth I'm going to handle having another child, and when I worry that I'm all out of love capacity, I know it's normal, and that it's really very silly because as soon as you're here I know it's going to be impossible for me to remember a time when you weren't with me. Of course, this knowledge still doesn't keep the doubt and worry at bay. . .

So oh well, your forgetful brother forgot his tennis shoes that he needs for tennis practice today so I must go deliver them to him here in a moment. Lucky thing for him that I am home today, I guess.

Until next time,

I remain,

Yours truly,

Mommy

Dear Blob,

We had our first visit at the Women's Birth & Wellness Center today. They examined me, asked me lots of questions, and listened to your heart beat. Everything was fine. We are both doing great. We go back in three weeks when I'll have to drink this awful orange gunk in order to test for gestational diabetes. (Because your brother and sister were large babies I have to undergo this test at 14 weeks.) I like the center a lot. They were all very friendly and even humored me my request to not know my weight.

So as far as the pregnancy stuff in general, I think that I may be getting over the nausea thing a bit, although I still have fairly strong likes and dislikes when it comes to food. Most of this is attributable to mood, though, and not so much feeling sick, as was the case a few weeks ago. Some of the things I like: chips, particularly cheetos, combos, and tortillas with salsa; bread; pasta; fruit, especially bananas and oranges; sweet potatoes; tomato soup; pizza; wheat thins; pickles; and all Mexican food. Some of the things I don't really like or do not sound appealing to me: steak; pork; cheese all by itself; salad; veal; chicken livers; shrimp; etc. Really anything "heavy" doesn't appeal to me. Dinner time has been challenging because while I'm generally ravenous during the day, I rarely feel hungry at night, making it difficult to plan dinner.

You are still making me extremely tired. Extremely. Dawg tired. I am hoping that this will soon pass. I'm not sure I can stand 7 more months of feeling this fatigued. It also isn't helping my exercise mission. Whenever I have time to take a walk or otherwise get some exercise, I just want to lie down and go to sleep. I have become one with the couch. I rarely stay awake much past 10 o'clock in the evening.

I'm also still sensitive to smells. I can't even wear my own perfume. Your dad cooked sausage the other weekend and I thought I would die. The lady who sits beside me at work likes some kind of hand lotion that turns my stomach. About a month ago I tried to carve up a pork roast after dinner and the smell made me feel so ill I had to go outside for a moment to clear my senses.

What other things are going on with me?

There's still the tender breast issue, but that's not going to change anytime soon. In fact, it'll probably get worse the bigger you--and they--get.

My waist has expanded a bit (though that could be due more to my new found desire for junk food than to your growth). Not enough for anyone to tell I'm pregnant, but enough that I don't even attempt to wear my "normal" slacks to work (except this one pair that is cut low and really comfy). Instead I wear these maternity pants I bought from Gap. They don't look like maternity pants at all as long as I leave my shirttail out. I can still wear my jeans, but only because they are made with that stretchy material.

Well I'm sleepy and tired of typing, so I think I'll call it a blog entry and take a quick nap before dinner (which is tomato soup and grilled cheese tonight).

Love you,
Mom