Strollers and car seats and changing tables, oh my!

Last night was the first time I didn’t feel totally overwhelmed by all the new things I have to learn and started to embrace it.  I know a lot of the SMC ladies have been buying, or at least researching, baby stuff from before they even got pregnant, but for me it’s been a combo of being afraid to jinx it, being overwhelmed by all the new information, and being too sick to deal with anything.  For the record, I’ve actually been pretty sick this week – every time I write that I’m feeling a little better it’s like the Blog Gods want to punish me and I end up getting really sick right after I hit “publish”.  Feeling especially ooky right now.  But I will blog through it.

Somehow though, and probably because my Mom Guru friend and I had a conversation about it, I started to relax a bit about all the “stuff” and even googled strollers, pack and play, and car seats today.  It’s just like any new skill – totally daunting at first, but soon you learn the ropes.  I mean, there are just so many questions – how often do you bathe a baby?  How many diapers do you go through in a week?  How does pumping work?  This is the kind of information mothers and grandmothers passed on to their daughters back in the communal living days; but since I have neither, I have to rely on friends and Google.  Which isn’t so bad, considering. 

I have so many people offering to give me free stuff, it’s been pretty great – now I just have to figure out how the heck to organize everything.  Having a room to shove all the baby stuff would be great, and technically I could put my wall back and re-create the second bedroom I eliminated in my “I’m never having kids” frenzy a couple of years ago.  And maybe as the months go by I may decide this is the best solution, to just set the room up now even if the baby won’t sleep there.  I know I don’t want my house to become completely overrun by hideous plastic crap.  But how can it not when I have absolutely zero storage?  Every closet is filled to the gills with clothes and boxes, every piece of furniture jammed.  I’ve done a lot to de-clutter in the last few years, but the fact is I still live in and run a business out of a very small house, have no garage, and a shed that’s so filthy and full of animal droppings it really isn’t suitable for storing anything I care about.  So I’m really going to have to put my organizer cap on and think of clever strategies for putting all these large, bulky things out of the way so that I don’t go crazy.

I so wish I could just have all cool vintage stuff, but unfortunately there are no practical vintage car seats, strollers (not really), or other new labor saving devices.  I might be able to get away with a vintage high chair or bassinet, but that’s about it.  Then I think about the women living in five story walk-ups in New York with no car, no washing machine, and a little one bedroom space, and I figure, if they can do it, I can do it!

Thinking WAY ahead

Going in for my first “real” ob/gyn appt today, and the last one for a while.  I hadn’t realized the 8 week one was a “viability” visit – they don’t even let you see the real doctor until they know the baby looks like it *might* make it, which explains why I was just with a nurse at that point.  Part of me is kind of proud I graduated and part of me is kind of creeped out by the whole thing.  Not sure what’s going to happen today, but according to Google it’s pretty basic – more blood pressure, more weighing and urine testing, and that’s kind of it.  Sounds like a bit of a waste of time to me since they did all this on Friday, but I’ll humor them.  I guess it’s a chance to meet the real guy and get a sense of how we get along, so that’s something.  Nobody should be looking at my lady parts today.

Spent last night obsessively Googling schools.  Started with preschool, since I have no clue how all of that works.  It seems like today’s kids are in “school” from the minute they walk pretty much – but I might be mistaking that for daycare.  Anyway it seems ages 3 or 4 and just a couple of days a week is acceptable, which works for me.  The idea of paying up to $1000 a month for my kid to go play with glitter and construction paper for three years seems kind of excessive. 

I checked out that cool place down in Figueroa that I visited in my Highland Park art deco tour.  As with all schools, there were mixed reviews; a lot of news items about how there’s a huge noise problem because of the high ceilings and general acoustics that they’re having to fix so they can keep their government funding; and one thing that worried me was some parents said the place was getting kind of ghetto with all the gang kids being admitted who then terrorized the other kids, and the staff shrugging their shoulders and saying they pretty much have to admit everyone (and let’s face it, that’s the neighborhood).  However we’re talking years from now, and I can certainly do another tour to see how the place looks in 2016!  But it’s close by and I might be able to get subsidies so it might be a good option.

Then of course there’s the excellent elementary up in the hill behind me, but that’s only up to 6^th grade.  I remember my real estate agent saying when she moved me in here that she typically moves people in for that school but then has to move everyone out when the kids reach middle school age, because there are just no decent options anywhere around here.  However, I found one school I found really interesting, the one in Eagle Rock that I always see kids coming out of with musical instruments, that’s housed in an old 60s department store building.  All over the website it stresses the school is NOT for everybody, and is VERY non-traditional, as in, no sports teams, no proms, no extra-curriculars other than their already in place music and dance programs, which appear to dominate the school.  There are no grade levels per se and no homework (whoo-hoo!).  It sounds like a big disorganized mess, but then you look a little deeper and it sounds pretty hardcore academically; the requirements for years of each subject is way more than the UC system requires, and it’s a classical education, with Latin and reading of classics (sounds a bit like my high school, which I like).  The students who commented, even negatively, all said the school was “hard”, which to me is a good thing, because it means they don’t let you slack and academics are still important (not always true in these performing arts schools).  So the reviews were interesting – apparently you either love or hate it.  The complaints mostly consisted of the facility not being very nice (one big room, no outdoor space), punishments being arbitrary and cruel (apparently you go sit in a naughty spot if you misbehave), kids being left behind in favor of the more “talented” kids (show me a school where kids aren’t being left behind), lack of parent-administration communication.  The positives were the amazing opportunities the kids get – performing at Hollywood Bowl, Disney Hall, etc; every kid has to chose to play violin, viola or cello as they start school, and everyone dances (dance is the PE, and of course I love that).  In fact, you have to wear dancewear to school – the uniform is t shirts and non-jean pants at all times.  I do think for the right kid it could be fantastic – for the wrong kid a disaster.  My main thought about the school is it’s SAFE; because of how it’s set up, there is zero opportunity for kids to be bullied or attacked and no drug activity at all.  There are no delinquents in the back of the room ruining the class for everyone else.  Stuff like that just doesn’t happen in a school like this.  I can’t even imagine the luxury of that – in my high school, 80% of time there was spent trying not to get beat up by kids from the projects, 20% actually learning something, and most of that didn’t happen until about junior year when I finally graduated to the AP classes.  Anyway.  Who knows where this school will be by 2026?  It could not even exist anymore, or could be so competitive you can’t even get in (already there’s a lottery system for admissions).  It’s only been in existence since 2004, so my real estate agent wouldn’t have known about it in 2001.  I’m glad there’s at least a good neighborhood option, however, assuming I have a performing arts-type kid.  It would be great to get the kid in nothing but awesome schools all the way through, instead of the random hodge-podge I got. 

So, I’ve got that all figured out.  Now to think about where to put the crib.

Nostalgic for an embryo?

Yesterday when I saw the baby again, the first thing I thought was “wow, they grow so fast!”  I couldn’t believe this formed little baby was the same as the somewhat amorphous blob I saw four weeks ago.  And then suddenly a strange feeling washed over me – this feeling that I just wanted time to slow down.  It’s all happening so fast.  It’s such a miracle, and may be the only time I get to do this.  The first trimester is just a few days from ending.  Is it weird to be nostalgic for an embryo?

I think I’m aware of this now only because the veil of constant sickness has at last lifted and I can think straight again (well, sort of).  I’m always an “enjoy the moment” person, and now that the word “enjoy” is back in my vocabulary, I’m determined to make it happen.  Serenity now!!!

I see my friends’ kids and how fast they shoot up like little beanpoles.  Little squishy babies become long, lean kids with long hair and opinions.  And pregnancy is so short – over in less than a year.  Not that I want to be pregnant longer than nine months, mind you; I’m sure as soon as the third trimester kicks in I’ll be more than happy for it to end.  But this is just such a special time.  I spent so many years – my whole life, really – wondering if I would ever have a baby and wondering what this time would feel like.  What I’d be doing, where I’d live, how old I’d be.  Naturally I always imagined it as a group effort; I never thought I’d not be married.  But you know what?  It feels very natural to me to be single.  My “dad” writing buddy said as soon as I told him, “why am I not surprised you’d go this route?” which I took as a supreme compliment.  He was always very impressed that I traveled the world alone.  I guess it does make sense that a woman who would go to Cambodia by herself would be the same woman to have a baby by herself.  Not that I’m brave or anything – I don’t think I’m any more brave than the average person – but most people just don’t think of doing things like that.  Most single older women don’t think of having babies on their own – or don’t think about it seriously (I’ve had many jokey turkey baster conversations over the years).  Most people talk about traveling the world but never actually do it.  So I guess the difference isn’t so much bravery but just follow through and imagination.  And I’ve got plenty of that.  Fifteen years of running my own business has taught me to always look for angles – my stance is always, “well, if it won’t work this way, then what about this way?”  I got turned down a thousand times for a home loan before I found someone who said yes.  I learned how not to take no for an answer.

I keep thinking about the conversation I had that time with the nice lady at my clinic when she knew I was down about not ovulating – how she’d said she never saw someone with my kind of issues (as in, not serious issues) who didn’t eventually succeed, if they stuck with it.  She said all it takes is persistence.  And she was right!  I plan on sending a very nice note when the baby is born.  Although they frustrated me at times I feel like they did right by me – they listened to me and let me set my own course of action, and were always positive.  I think I made the right choice there, and would certainly head back over there if I decide to go for #2.

So now that things are evening out over here and somewhat normal life functions have resumed, I am going to really focus on just treasuring every moment.  This is a time I’m going to look back on and tell stories about for the next forty or so years.  I want to remember everything, even the crappy parts. 

NT results

Everything came out great yesterday.  Measurements all good (I believe the neck fluid measurement was 1.5, and they want it to be under 3.5).  The technicians very kindly kept telling me how great everything looked – normal brain structure, good ratios between nose/jaw/neck etc, heart – and how I have a “great looking kid”.  Who doesn’t want to hear that???  Also got to hear the heartbeat – pumping away at 163 bpm.  Completely amazing to me how much the baby has progressed in just four weeks.  It’s a real baby now, with a full skeletal system, little hands and feet, facial features.  I got to see him squirming around – occasionally they’d shake my belly and the baby would jerk in protest, which was an amazing sight.  Do I feel like all of that is going on in my uterus right now?  Not at all.  It is still completely unreal to me.  Kind of like a really wonderful dream I’m afraid I’m going to wake up from any minute.

I have to admit I was a tad nervous as I pulled into the parking lot.  I had a moment as I left the car where I pictured myself an hour later getting back into the car and sobbing my brains out in utter despair – but you know what?  That didn’t happen.  What did happen was I got back in the car and pulled out the ultrasound picture and stared at it and smiled.  That happened.

So they drew blood and will do another draw in a few weeks for a complete profile…but I’m not worried.  When I walked into the exam room they asked me, “so, do you know why you’re here today?”  I said, “other than my advanced maternal age?”  It was my first belly ultrasound – no more “up the vag”, woo hoo!  I have graduated to non-invasive ultrasounds for the time being.  I have my first real appointment with a real ob/gyn on Tuesday.  I’m not sure what this appointment will consist of – they will probably want to talk to me about birthing options and breastfeeding and a bunch of stuff I’m not ready to make any decisions about right now.

Feeling better by the day.  The sickness has had a precipitous drop off.  Not that it isn’t still there, but I’ve been able to do amazing things lately – like consistently brush my teeth without wanting to gag, eating real meals, not having to shove crackers down my throat every hour on the hour, eating in restaurants, and yesterday I actually COOKED.  Yes, for the first time in two months I actually made a meal from scratch and ate it, which was revelatory for me.  I made one of my favorite peasant combinations – white beans with basil, polenta, and spinach (well, frozen peas, because I haven’t been able to keep a fruit or vegetable in this house without it rotting and being thrown out).  I have to admit it didn’t taste as nice as I’d hoped – I still have this sour taste in the back of my mouth all of the time that makes everything taste weird, and some things totally intolerable, like Greek yogurt – but it was great for once to not eat something out of a box or a can.  I hope this trend continues – would love to get back to homemade Mexican food soon, and shopping at the farmer’s market.  I never thought I’d miss dicing garlic, but here we are.

So at this point I am pretty much “out”.  Everyone I was going to tell has been told.  I expect the rest to find out via the grapevine or when I suddenly appear with a belly that can’t just be weight gain.  To avoid her finding out not from me and feeling hurt, I sat down with the last of my single, childless friends over dinner and told her.  I thought she would be jealous and feel abandoned – and there’s a chance she feels that way inside – but I have to admit that once again I was pleasantly surprised by her reaction.  One, I think it’s all about how you tell it; indeed, giving the WHOLE background, with all the struggles to get here, made a difference.  I was thinking about her reaction and my other older, childless friend’s, and I think I know why they were so positive.  I mean, other than being just nice people who are my friends and want good things for me.  I think people react a little differently because I didn’t get the fairy tale.  I didn’t out of nowhere meet some perfect guy, have a huge princess wedding, buy a massive house, and then have a perfect little baby with no difficulty.  As we’ve seen, it’s kind of hard for single women to be happy for friends who have a scenario like that.  Instead they look at me as another woman who just never met anyone decent and decided to take matters into my own hands, and although I made it to a healthy pregnancy, it wasn’t exactly a slam dunk right off the bat.  Nor will it be an easy road in the future.  So I think it’s just easier to be happy for me.  I know that’s how I’d feel.  A couple of years ago if a single friend sat me down and said she was doing what I’m doing, I don’t think I would be jealous at all – I would be fascinated, ask lots of questions, and store the information for later.  Also because there’s no dominant husband involved, I think people see the whole idea as kind of fun – this kid is going to belong to the community, not just to me and my spouse.  Everyone gets to really participate, and those who want to are kind of excited about it.  So all of this has been very interesting, and very positive.

I also told my four guy friends, ranging in age from about 47-55, who constitute my writing group.  As I expected, the only one interested was the one dad; the other two confirmed bachelors said “congratulations” and then turned the conversation to baseball stats.  It’s always touching to me to hear men who get really into pregnancy/birthing stuff because they have a kid – this one told me all about his wife’s home birth (at my age!) and I was quite interested in that, since I’d pretty much written off that option due to my age.  I said that I’ve noticed men don’t really care if they ever have kids, that most are ambivalent at best – my friend said he thinks the only reason some men may care a little is just ego; it’s not at all a deep biological need like it is for a woman.  Especially today when most men are still adolescents at 40; they just want to do what they want to do and don’t want to be held back in any way (but they’ll take the free maid, cook, and sex, sure).  God I’m so glad I’m doing this alone!

...and when I say "our" I mean "my"

So last night the two friends who were on to me at the skating party cornered me and I had to confess.  As much as telling them while standing in a mall with a paper plate of banana cream pie in my hand wasn’t how I pictured it, I have to say their interest and enthusiasm was very sweet and I was touched by how happy they were for me.  For sure I’ll admit the “mixed reactions” I expected so far have not been accurate at all – pretty much everyone knows now, and everyone has been (as far as I can tell) 100% happy and excited for me.  I guess you don’t know how loved you are until situations like this come up.

Earlier in the day I had had brunch with a friend (managed a whole plate of huevos rancheros!  But then had to lie down for several hours after) who has a seven year old boy and has had many subsequent miscarriages.  I wasn’t sure how she’d feel about it, but she was happy for me, too, and told me she has tons of baby stuff she can give me – strollers, furniture, toys, clothes, etc etc.  I went home with visions in my head of all the awesome free stuff.  I seriously don’t think I’m going to have to buy one thing for this kid.

But the funny thing is I kind of do want to buy stuff for the kid.  I want the fun of walking into a store and personally selecting neat little things.  I can always do this for a registry of course, and that’ll be fun.  But the part of me that needs to nest wants to go out and buy stuff myself, not just take gifts and hand-me-downs.  One thing I’m determined to get is a vintage baby book.  It’s funny because I keep watching them on e-bay and then letting them pass.  There’s still a little fear in me that the minute I buy one something is going to go wrong.  It kind of reminds me of my favorite book title, “Don’t Get Too Comfortable”.  Many of the books have “The Story of Our Baby” on the cover and then pages about the father’s family tree, “Daddy Remembers” and things like that.  Not sure how to fill in those pages!  I feel like buying one and putting an asterisk next to “our” on the cover and writing “and by “our” I mean “my””.

I keep thinking I am in the clear to start planning and buying…but the reality is I do have one more major hurdle coming up Friday, the NT scan.  Now as noted I’m not particularly worried about it – I sort of plan on ignoring the results, actually – BUT it is also another confirmation that the baby is still alive and progressing properly.  I haven’t seen him/her since 8 weeks.  A lot could have gone wrong since then…but based on how nauseated I continue to feel, I just doubt it.  It is odd to be technically three months’ pregnant and have no physical signs, though, even though I know that’s normal – when you don’t show and your body, other than being tired and sick, is the same as it ever was, it’s kind of hard to believe you’re actually pregnant.  The word sticks in my throat when I say it – STILL – after having had this plan now for nearly a year, trying for a few months, a miscarriage, and now a particularly gnarly first trimester.  Still can’t really say the “p” word without it feeling very strange on my tongue.  There’s a big part of me that still feels I’m just playing at all this and none of it is really happening, like how sometimes when I leave for a trip early in the morning I pretend I’m fleeing an abusive relationship and am just escaping before “he” wakes up.  Weird, I know, but this is how I entertain myself.  Maybe I have lived alone too long.

So I keep telling myself that once I see the baby one more time I know I can relax and start planning, but I know that’s all bullshit.  There is so much more still to get through – oh yeah, and that whole “labor” thing which I am still pretending won’t ever actually happen.  I have to say I’m pleased that so far there has been minimal anxiety – I read about women completely flipping out before every test or ultrasound.  I haven’t had this; I was scared the first couple of weeks, absolutely, of miscarrying again, but then as every day went by with no bleeding I was able to relax.  And now at twelve weeks (tomorrow) I have a hard time believing something is going to go horribly wrong; the odds are just against it.  If I’m going to worry I’d rather worry about things that are likely (like labor, difficulty breastfeeding, being uncomfortable in the 3^rd trimester, etc).

I asked myself the question the other day, “are you disappointed in the way this pregnancy has gone so far?” and I have to say the answer is absolutely not.  I knew the possibility of being very sick was there – although my non-reaction to the hcg shot that time fooled me into thinking I might not react badly to pregnancy hormones.  I figure there’s a spectrum between the women who sail through with no sickness and those who vomit constantly and have to be hospitalized, and I am somewhere in the middle.  So, not good, but not the worst, either.  But I accept it as part of the deal, absolutely.  I often ask myself if I’d had a picture of how bad the nausea would be would I have gone ahead anyway…and of course the answer is yes.  A little nausea vs. never having a child?  Screw that.  I mean, this will be over one day, and like most women, I’ll forget how hard core it was and just remember it as, “yeah, I was pretty sick the first three months.”  Something tells me I may even try for #2 one day, forgetting those on-the-bathroom-floor-with-the-cardboard-thing moments.  Although I still worry about having to take care of an infant in this condition.  My poor dog hasn’t even been walked in days and last night pooed on the carpet in protest.  Still on the fence about #2 (no pun intended).