On Being Glad

Oprah and Dr Phil generally piss me off.  But one thing Oprah harps on about that I agree with, is the importance of being grateful.  Reading Pollyanna as a small child, however tacky it may sound, had a profound impact on my world view.  I related to Pollyanna as my childhood was what would be considered dysfunctional.  But my trials and tribulations had nothing on hers.  Being able to be 'glad' for crutches when you really wanted a doll, purely because you didn't need them, was an important lesson for me.

Being grateful helps you to step back from the intensity of existing within what might be a painful experience.  It helps you to look at it from another angle, and to have compassion for those who may be in a worse position to you.  Often when things get bad, it's easy to overlook the things in life that are really great, or the people around you who are amazing.  It gives you perspective.

Perspective is an important thing to have when things are tough.  Getting wrapped up in your head is one of the least useful things you can do.  Obsessing about bad things makes everything seem worse than it is.  Being grateful is not about belittling the feelings you have - it's ok to be sad/upset/pissed off about things/people/situations.  But after venting that stuff, it's really important to refocus that negativity into something positive - gratefulness is an excellent tool to aid in doing that.  There is no situation that this is not applicable to.  Things we take for granted, like having clean water to drink, are still things to be grateful for.  I know I probably sound like a Nana saying this, but it's true.

When I was younger, a serial monogamist with relationship drama after drama, when things were really bad I would watch this movie called Atanarjuat: The Fast Runner.  This film is set in the Arctic and is about a community that is cursed by an evil spirit.  It is three hours long, and highlights the difficult life of those who live in the Arctic, made more difficult by this evil spirit.  For almost an hour of the film, the protagonist is running buck naked across the ice being chased by three guys who are trying to kill him.   Watching this long, subtitled film pulled me out of my life for a bit.  I always came away from it thinking 'Well at least I'm not an Eskimo' (yeah, yeah - Inuit, I know).

I can't even begin to conceive of living in an igloo in close contact with other people where a big part of my day will consist of chewing on seal skin.  I hate the cold.  I don't really eat much meat, and I needs my personal space.  How could I exist with only lichen for greens?  And only over Spring/ Summer?   How would I cope with everything smelling of blubber, smoke and fish?  How would I live in a highly structured community with strict male/female roles?  Let alone coping with some curse which means my whole family gets killed and I have to run naked across the ice with no shoes for ages?  Watching this film has always put my life into perspective for me.

I've watched it enough by now to have this message ingrained, so I don't watch it any more.  Instead, I take some time to think about the things I am glad about.  It's such a habit now that it's seldom a challenge.  On really bad days where everything feels horrible, I focus on the simple things - like eating cheese, or having a bath, or getting up off the toilet without my hip displacing.  On better days I can focus on bigger picture stuff.  Being glad for things gets me through hard times like now.  So today I thought I'd write a short list of what I'm grateful for today:

1) I am grateful to be pregnant with a healthy baby.  At all.  We are so lucky that this even happened for us given my previous health issues.  Many people can't get pregnant or carry babies to term.  Even normal pregnancy is statistically unlikely - so many things have to happen at just the right time for it to occur.  I am glad I didn't go into labour last Thursday because it may have compromised the baby's health.  I am glad for every day we get closer to 37 weeks (only 8 sleeps to go).

2) I am grateful to live in a country/be of a belief system where I can choose how many children I want to have.  I am glad that if I choose not to, I never have to do this again, and I'm glad to be in a relationship where I do have a choice.  I am grateful to have access to safe contraceptive methods, and the knowledge with which to apply them.

3) I am grateful for my partner.  He has fetched me food from far away just because I'm sick/sad and want to eat a specific food from a specific place.  He gives me massages at least every couple of days.  He has come to all the classes I've asked him to, and is as invested in everything as I am.  He is definitely the best person I could ask for to be my birthing partner.  I have no doubts that he'll make an amazing Dad.

4) I am grateful for my friends and whanau.  I have an amazing support network which can never be taken for granted.  So many people who struggle do so because they do not have what I have.  These people amaze me on a daily basis with their willingness to support us in a multitude of ways.  Today my Grandma and Aunt dropped books off for me to read while stuck at home because it's hard for me to go to the library - I am so lucky.  I am grateful that both mine and Murray's parents are alive to be grandparents to our child.

5) I am grateful for the support and free services we have in New Zealand for mothers to be.  I am grateful for the range of birthing options we have, and free access to education about them.  I am grateful for my Midwife, for my Physio and our local hospital.  I am grateful to have access to the internet and pregnancy/baby related forums.  I am grateful that my cousin is training to be a Midwife, and has answered so many weird questions for me.  I am grateful that my brain is no longer overwhelmed by the information on offer.

6) I am grateful that we are fairly financially stable and that I am not working and not worried.  This is a luxury that could easily be taken for granted.  I don't know how I could possibly work in my current state although I'm sure there are many women out there who do because they have very little choice.

7) I am grateful that I'm not on bed-rest.  I don't know how I would cope with that.  Being housebound is bad enough.  Being bed-bound, particularly with what I've learnt through yoga, would be devastating. 

8) I am grateful for our pets.  Even though they can be annoying, they are a reason to get out of bed in the morning and a reason to laugh.  I am grateful we can afford to have pets, the small things they bring to life have more impact than we give them credit for.  I am also glad Murray let me put the rabbit in the house today (raining).  He looks like a cute wookie thing.

9) I am grateful for cheese.  Especially the nice cheese left after the family baby shower yesterday.  Especially because we have mustard and hummus and yummy other things to have with cheese in our fridge.  Especially because ODing on cheese totally combats my constipation.  Because I'm not supposed to eat that much of it. 

10) I am grateful for crappy TV, especially comedies.  Laughing at other people doing silly things helps get me through the day.  I am especially grateful for It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia.  I am grateful to have friends who understand this.

On thinking things couldn't get any worse

As well as not taking into account how well my brain would work in the last 6 weeks it appears I hadn't taken into account how well my body would work.  Yesterday (Friday the 3rd) was to be my last day at work.  I was really looking forward to getting a chance to say goodbye to some of my favourite customers.  Sadly, I missed that opportunity.  After having a difficult second to last day at work, I spent Thursday night in Waitakere Hospital.

After a few hours at work I started getting intermittent pains which felt just like someone had punched me in the crotch -strong to the point of leaving me doubled over in pain, or unable to stand, but gone within 10 seconds or so.  After tracking the regularity of the pain, I had a brief look on some pregnancy forums as to what contractions feel like (I've never even had Braxton Hicks).  Although some people described theirs similarly to the pain I was experiencing, it definitely didn't seem the norm.  I called Murray at work and let him know, and left a non-urgent message with my Midwife.  They were happening about every 15 minutes, so I calculated how many more I'd have to tolerate through the workday, and figured I could handle working the rest of the day.

After almost two hours, they stopped.  My Midwife called me back, said it didn't sound like contractions, but to let her know if anything else changed.  Murray was going to pick me up from work to save me the pain of public transport.  Shortly before I finished work, the pubic pain was back but constant.  My uterus had also started contracting intermittently (usually painlessly), which I hadn't had happen before, and my belly position had noticeably changed.  I got in the car and as soon as I sat down I had that feeling of the onset of cystitis (fiery pain in urethra).  That car ride home was one of the most painful 40 minutes of my life - worse than travelling with a broken ankle whilst in shock.  It felt like cystitis coupled with someone punching me in the pubis, made worse by the baby moving like mad because of contractions and the movement increasing pubic pain.

Poor Murray!  I was yelling at him 'if this is what the rest of pregnancy's going to be like, I can't do it.  And if this is labour, I need an epidural.'  I was freaking out, because given the sudden onset and the level of pain, I had assumed it must be labour.  I've read and learned a LOT about labour, and this wasn't following any of the rules - particularly the rule of 'contractions will come, and they will go' - I was in constant pain.  All the breathing methods I'd learned pushed my diaphragm down which put more pressure on my pubic bone.  So I was feeling pretty helpless, sore and claustrophobic being trapped in a car on the motorway during peak hour traffic.

As soon as I got home I went straight to the toilet as felt (like with cystitis) the pain would lessen if I could only pee.  I was right.  Murray ran a bath while I sat on the toilet and told him to page my Midwife and bring me Panadol.  We waited to call her when I was calmer - even when the Panadol and bath kicked in things felt wrong.  After talking to her on the phone she said it probably was a urinary tract infection.  From my midwife I learned these are notorious for starting contractions and sometimes pre-term labour, so we had to go straight to hospital for monitoring.  This made me feel slightly relieved, as the level of pain and discomfort I was in surely couldn't be just a 'normal' side effect of pregnancy.  I don't know what I would have done to cope if I had to just stay home.

At hospital I was put on a foetal monitor and I was having regular, small and mostly pain free contractions - probably just Braxton Hicks but disconcerting seeing as I hadn't had them before.  The baby was fine.  I knew this would be the case because she had kicked the crap out of me all day.  The contractions obviously upset her, but not enough to hurt her.  I had some other tests and it was assumed it was a UTI so was given antibiotics, and had to stay overnight for observation and more monitoring.  It was my first time staying in Waitakere Hospital, and their rooms are wonderful - I had a whole room to myself.  And had I been in less pain, I probably would have slept ok.  The midwives and Drs there were great, and the next day my physio even visited me to schedule my next appointment. 

For us, it was a great dry run to hospital.  I am so glad I packed my hospital bags months ago as it meant we just grabbed them and put them into the car in case I needed them - which I did.  So I had toiletries and comfy clothes and even chocolate on hand.  We now know that when it's not peak hour, we can get to hospital in 10 minutes.  This is really handy to know.

After some more monitoring and another internal exam to check my cervix (very sore) it was decided I could go home around midday Friday.  My cervix wasn't dilated, but there had been some changes.  My Midwife wasn't sure if I was going to go into labour, or if the contractions would just slowly die off - either way, I would be better off at home.  I had contractions right up until today, and they've steadily grown less and less which is great.  Even if your contractions aren't labour related, they are exhausting.  And after over 36 hours of contractions, I feel wiped out and very hungry!

While it's great that contractions have settled, I've discovered I have a new wonderful pregnancy condition - SPD.  This was to be expected with the hip issues I've had, but it feels different to how I imagined.  Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction is another relaxin related bitch of a thing.  This is what has been causing the punched-in-the-crotch pain, which is by far worse than any other pain I've had.  I'm assuming this suddenly got worse on Thursday as with everything that was going on, my belly dropped again, so there will be more pressure than ever on my pubic area.  Unfortunately for some women, this level of pain is just there until they deliver.  I hope that's not me.  When I read that on a forum I cried.

I will be seeing my physio on Wednesday, so hopefully she can help a little.  Swimming is recommended, so I do plan on continuing with that as much as possible.  Currently, the pain is so bad I am having difficulty walking much more than around the house - and even that is hard.  So am now totally reliant on help to get to things like swimming and physio which sucks a big kumara, but is doable. 

While pregnancy really sucks now, and I just want it to end, I'm hoping we make it to 37 weeks.  This will mean better labour options for me, and lower health risks for our baby.  Thinking you might be in labour also makes you realise how unprepared you are.  There are still a few things that need sorting before she gets here.  To be honest though, I don't think I'll ever really feel prepared.  Even hearing the babies cry in hospital made me wonder 'what the hell am I doing?'

I can't remember if I've said this before, if so, I'll say it again: I am not going through this pregnancy dealio again.  I honestly don't think it makes sense to volunteer for this whilst having to look after an existing child - it's hard enough coping with no kids.  We'd love to have siblings for this baby-to-be, but after weighing things up I'm just not finding pregnancy (in this body) a very feasible method by which to procure them.  Keep us in mind if you get accidentally knocked up though - we'll totally whangai your baby!*

*Although I'm sure after reading all my blog posts you'll probably not think that wise... But if you do, we're totally keen to raise your baby (unless we already have a magical bonus baby somehow).

On Getting Excited About Baby

And a more palatable baby from this less scary website

What our baby will look like according to this sadistic website

  

I am finally over my cold/flu/bug thing (took about a week) and went swimming with Murray last night which was wonderful.  So despite having little and interrupted sleep last night (I got up at 2am and watched Once Upon A Time), I am feeling  a bit better than when I last posted.

To keep (our) spirits up, and also because of seeing friends wee ones recently, we've been talking a little about what traits we hope this baby will have, and what we hope she really doesn't have.  And Murray is getting more and more nervous about having a little girl that, due to sensible biology, looks just like him for at least a few years.  I can understand why!

First off looking at the issue of hair - we're hoping like hell that despite the changing-behaviour-entirely-at-full-moon she doesn't actually look like a werewolf.  This is a distinct possibility if she takes after her dad.  We are hoping she inherits my appearance of hairlessness (very fine, very blonde body hair).  Even though I colour my eyebrows in to feel like a regular human, it's MUCH easier and less painful than waxing, apparently.  Not that we wouldn't love her if she were an un-waxed werewolf - I've never waxed, I only know it's painful cos Murray told me*...

It seems unlikely there will be much variance in the hair colour department - I have honey-blonde hair, and Murray has light ash browny coloured hair.  She'll have to take after someone further back to get anything less muddy as a grown up, although she'll likely be blonde as a small person (we both were).  Eye colour is kinda the same - the options are hazel or brown.  With skin there is a little room for variance, and I'm hoping she gets Murray's.  Murray's Mum's family have this lovely skin tone - slightly olive and tannable.  I have typical English Rose skin which is almost translucent, is freckled and burns if the sun winks at it.  I'm also allergic to a bunch of things, and have that lovely stuff affectionately known as 'chicken skin' on my upper arms and face.  It's less noticeable now I'm older and know things I can do to minimise it, but it was a horrible thing to have as a teenager.  Murray's skin = lower cancer risk and possibly less angsty teenager to deal with down the track.

I don't really don't think it matters too much how tall she gets.  I am well below average height, and apart from making some things more difficult (reaching stuff), it being annoying at concerts (can't see stuff) and often receiving some light hearted ribbing, it's really not that bad.  It would be nice also if she doesn't get to be Murray's height - I think it's almost harder for the taller ladies - but that's unlikely.  Our metabolism is similar, but Murray's is better, so that'd be nice for her to inherit - although I like my physique (I like having T&A, but it's not everyone's thing, especially these days thanks to stupid modern media).

And outside of looks I really hope she gets Murray's family health.  Mine's a bit muddied with lower mortality rates, a higher risk of breast cancer and heart disease, gynae issues, asthma, and food allergies being par for the course.  No matter what happens, she'll probably be clumsy  - Murray fell over in the shower the other day and popped his shoulder out - just a reminder that we sometimes forget how unco he is.  And everyone seems to have no trouble remembering how unco I am.  So it's great that we are both first aid trained and usually calm in emergencies.

We hope she gets our smarts.  We hope she inherits our shared love of problem solving, games and reading.  I hope she has an imagination - with us as parents it seems unlikely that she won't.  I hope she likes school, and that it works for her, but we'll be ok if it doesn't.  I hope she likes cooking, like I do, and likes eating, like her Dad does - although maybe a little less obsessed with burgers and pies.  I hope that despite what will be a suburban upbringing (weird to me) she likes playing outside and running about exploring (safely).  I hope she likes animals and doesn't scream at our cats or pull their tails too much.  I hope that if she ISN'T a nerd (for whatever strange reason), we can support her in her non-nerdy endeavors.  And if she IS a nerd like us, I hope we can prepare her for living a positive nerd life ie: how to ignore/ discourage haters.  I hope she inherits my feistiness, and I hope we can cope with it!  I hope she's also as logical as Murray, although that won't aid us in arguing with a teenager...

The biggest thing I hope for our baby is that we learn how to do what's best for her no matter how she turns out.  That we can balance boundary setting with freedom, tolerance with reason and give her continuing love and support no matter what.  I hope that we can set our ideals aside and help her carve a path for herself.  

I also really hope she doesn't look like the baby morph baby at the top left - cos there is clearly something wrong with that baby.  I would probably send that baby back.  That baby is evil.

                                                                                              
* No weird frat boy antics - he used to cycle at a pretty high level - funny given how unco he is...

And if Murray had a baby with Hermione (Emma Watson), it'd look like this.

And if Hannah had a baby with Bruce Willis, it'd look like this.  Morphing is fun!