Misery

my daughter has her first cold, and I am clueless how to help her.  I elevated her mattress, but what else can I do? The nasal bulb makes her scream bloody murder. I feel so miserable watching her so miserable.

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A Heart-Shaped Tongue

It turns out that my otherwise perfect child has something amiss with her tongue. The shape is too “heart” and she has problems with dexterity. Which means–oh, you guessed it–she can’t latch-on. Actually, she doesn’t even try. She just swings her balled-up fist at me like a baseball bat and yanks her head away from my breast as if my milk smells of liver pate. It’s quite insulting, really.

We have gone to the lactation experts and they have forced me into a breast shield and onto a breast pump. I actually quite like the pump, as it makes a very satisfying about of milk come out of me. If only it didn’t add another humiliating and time-consuming thing for me to do during the day (and night).

I realize all of this is in service to my baby’s health, and I want her to be healthy and happy, but it is so emotionally devastating. I feel I am being robbed of the bonding that is suposed to happen during breastfeeding, I feel my baby is rejecting me (though I know she is not) and I can’t stop feeling sad about these feelings. I’m crying several times a day, and though I suppose that’s not entirely unusual, all the crying makes me feel one more horrible thing: like a failure.

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All the Things that Can Go Terribly Wrong

So now that I’m in this last month business, there are all these horror stories spreading thorugh the ranks of pregnant people at Kaiser SF. In fact, I have to go into the emergency clinic today because one of my legs is more swollen than the other, and I guess it could be a blood clot or something like that. What a pain! I doubt it’s anything. I guess I’ll just be grateful for the day off from work.

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SWOLLEN

I don't care how badly my feet swell, I will never stoop this low

I looked upon those slow, gigantic, swollen footed pregnant people with scorn. HAHAHA! What must you have done to deserve those giant feet? You were ON them too long! You forgot to take your prenatal vitamins! You have a genetic defect!

But, no. It turns out this just… happens. It’s called “edema.” Even if you sit around with your feet up all day. Even if you wear giant comfy shoes or flip flops with extra roominess. Even if… you’re me. Yes, it’s hard to believe, I know. But it turns out, foot-giantess happens to most pregnant people. Well, to everyone I know at least. And if it didn’t happen to you, I don’t want to hear about it.

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Will the H1N1 Virus Kill Me?

My in-laws seem to think so. They keep asking if I’ve had my shot. Well, Kaiser currently has no shot available for preggers women, so no I haven’t. I should probably avoid telling my in laws that several students in my classes have been diagnosed with H1N1… that might make them call more.

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Why Does it Have to be so Gross?

During birth preparedness class (even outside of the videos, which were horrifying) every other word out we heard from female leaders mouths was disgusting. From “bag of waters” to “bloody show” it was one nasty image after another. What’s wrong with calling things by actual names–like, amniotic sac? Like cervical safety? I mean, those aren’t sexy or elegant, but at least they don’t trigger the gag reflex. Seriously. And don’t get me started on all the lame names for things that can go wrong, like “incompetent cervix,” and so on. Or, “labor.” Why can’t we call it birth or birthing process? How is it, in 2009, we’re still calling it “labor”?

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Neti–You’re Fired!

I will never wear this again.

I am sick.

My Neti Pot has failed me.

It must die.

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OBs

And no, I don’t mean the tampon. You’d think by now I would have chosen a good OB, and I thought I did. But then she turned out to be… well… let’s put it this way: she’s never had a baby. Is it necessary to have an OB who has had a baby? Probably not. I mean, my mother and most of her friends had male OBs, and I’m pretty sure those docs never gave birth. But for a neurotic like me who is very worried about birth, it might help a lot. So I find myself in the position (at eight months pregnant) of looking for a new doctor. Shoot.

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The Yoga Method

So, I know lots of people who swear by the uber-pricey Bradley Method, or they think it’s 1970 and are taking Lamaze, but none of that stuff appeals to me. Financially, or otherwise. I suppose I feel that women have been giving birth (successfully or not) for hundreds (thousands?) of years, and they didn’t have Bradley to massage them through it.

But here’s what I do think is worthwhile: yoga! I love yoga anyhow, both for the famed yoga butt as well as for calming myself down so I don’t go ballistic on any of my students. But, they have some really good ideas about birthing, too.

At the Yoga Tree in San Francisco, they teach a workshop called Prenatal Partners, which “prepares the mind, body and spirit for the many transitions of pregnancy, childbirth and parenthood.” They also advertize that you will learn “breath awareness, partner poses and massage, which can help strengthen and relax your body and sooth your mind during the birth process.” That’s more my style. Click on the photo above for all their prenatal classes.

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Ode to My Neti Pot

Neti pot, you keep me free of snot.

Neti pot, I love you a lot.

Well, that’s all I’ve got so far. But, I will add that for pregnant women who are leaking out of all orifices (it’s truly disgusting… and why? What is all this fluid for?) the Netti Pot is an essenital item. In seven-plus months of pregnancy, I have not yet gotten a cold, sinus infection, or even the sniffles. I give the credit to my Neti Pot. I am actually healthier this year than I have been for a long time. Probably because of my Himalayan Institute Original Neti Pot. As I said, it keeps me free of snot. Can be bought. On Amazon.

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