Tales from the Newborn Fog

MJ called this period the newborn fog and that's exactly what it's felt like. The last two weeks have been a big blur of feeding baby, changing baby, and watching baby sleep. Time really doesn't have much significance when you have a newborn. Which is not to say that the newborn fog is a bad thing. In fact, I've been enjoying it quite a bit. But I do look forward to finding a new normal and figuring out how to continue living my life with my daughter by my side.

Saying "my daughter" still sounds really strange to my ears. And thinking "I'm a mom" blows my mind.

Just a few observations:

-- Zara is adorable. She really, truly is the cutest baby on planet earth. I know all moms think this but I'm pretty sure it's true in my case. I can't believe I grew her inside of me and that I grew something so perfect. Even her little pouty face is cute.

-- Zara also happens to be a very calm and happy baby. She rarely cries except when she's really hungry or really needs a diaper change but I try really hard to anticipate her needs so she never reaches the stage of all-out wailing. She would sleep through the night if I let her. The pediatrician recommended that I don't let Zara go more than 4 hours without eating until she's a month old so I've continued to wake her up at least once during the night to eat a little and she generally falls asleep pretty quickly afterwards. When I wake her up in the morning, we snuggle in bed while she nurses and then fall asleep together for another hour or two. I love taking naps with my baby.

-- Zara is quite the little chomper when it comes to breastfeeding. Sometimes she takes to the breast with such enthusiatic zeal that I can't help laughing at her.

-- Suyom still doesn't know what to make of the baby. Sometimes she sits at the edge of the bed and just watches Zara sleeping in the pack n' play bassinet or she'll come sniff her head while I'm holding her and then promptly scurry away. I hope they become friends. Suyom is afraid of every other child she's met.


-- I also thought boys were the great perpetrators of peeing on their parents while changing their diapers but it turns out girls are just as bad. Zara seems to take great delight in waiting until David or I have removed her diaper and then peeing all over herself, the towel and us. She may not get quite as much leverage as a boy but she can still get us quite wet with her steady stream of urine.

-- I know they say that when newborn babies smile, it's because they're passing gas but I'm convinced that Zara smiles because she's happy. She smiles quite a bit and sometimes shows off her little dimples. They're not as deep as mine, but they're still there when she smiles real big. Aunt Cassy is overjoyed at having a niece with dimples.


-- The one thing I don't like is how fast Zara is growing and changing. Everyday I think she's just a little bit different and I can't quite remember how she was just a week ago. It really does go by way too quickly. I look forward to watching her grow (and having her do more than sleep, eat, and poop) but I can't help but already mourn for the brevity of this newborn period. She's so sweet and cuddly, especially when she slips into one of her milk comas and stays snuggled close to my chest. I want to savor it as much as possible.

-- Her favorite way to sleep is with both her arms out-stretched above her head. She hates having her arms tied down. Even when I swaddle her all nice and tight, she still manages to wriggle her little arms free.


-- One thing I do hope passes soon is my constant need to check that she's still breathing. I'll wake up several times during the night in a panic and I can't go back to sleep until I've seen her twitch or felt her pulse. I know I'll eventually get over that, but I know that I'll never stop worrying about her.

-- I'm obsessed with Zara's hair. I love its color and how much of it there is. I know it may fall out and there's a very good chance it's going to lighten and turn blonde (both David and I were very blonde as children) but I'm going to enjoy my little brunette baby as long as I can.


-- Zara hiccuped inside me all the time the last month of pregnancy and she's still a hiccuppy baby. She also sneezes quite a bit. Her record is 8 sneezes in a row.

Of course I wrote this glowing tale of the perfect baby last night before I went to bed and then Zara and I had one of our most miserable nights together. She woke me up around 1 a.m. to eat (which almost never happens) and then proceeded to spit up everything she ate, cry for more, poop and pee all over me and refuse to fall asleep. So after three hours, three costume changes (for both of us) and one impromtu sponge bath, Zara finally got back to sleep around 4 a.m. and slept until I woke her up at 7:30 a.m. Once she conks out for her afternoon nap, I'm going to grab a little bit to eat, put in yet another load of laundry, and take a much needed nap myself. It really is a good thing Zara is so dang cute.

Zara Hope

As most of you who read this blog know, I changed my name from Amanda to my middle name, Elizabeth, when I was nine. I was quite adamant that Amanda was not the right name for me and I begged my parents for a long time to let me change it. When we moved to Poway the summer between third and fourth grades, my parents consented to the name change and I started to introduce myself as Lizzie.

So when it came to thinking of a name for our baby, I felt no small amount of anxiety and trepediation. It's a big responsibility to name another human being and to pick the name that is right for them. I really wanted to find a name that had great meaning or that had a connection to our ancestry and a name that our child could be proud of. I didn't want to pick some uber trendy name or just some name that I happened to like. I needed to be able to tell my child exactly why they were named what they were and why I had chosen that name above all others.

In the early months of my pregnancy, I found the right name. For a boy. When David and I started talking about names, we discovered that we had both chosen the same name for a boy but we had no names for a girl. That, among many other significant experiences, had us convinced that we were going to have a boy. So it came as something as a shock when at our first ultrasound the technician guessed that we were going to have a girl. They couldn't quite tell since the baby's bum was turned toward us, her legs were closed and the umbilical cord was in between her legs. Since we got no clear view of the baby--and the guess was only that, a guess--it was easier for David and I to just think of our baby's gender as a mystery and wait until the baby's birth to know for sure. For the next two months, I was still convinced I was having a boy, but by the end of my pregnancy, I did start to feel that we were having a girl so it seemed like a good idea to start thinking of some girl names.

But we had nothing. Neither David nor I could think of any names that we really liked. We had a small list of names that were just okay, but nothing we were really sold on. One day, as I was reading in The Book of Mormon (I don't remember where, probably in Helaman or 3 Nephi) I came across several verses that talked about the city of Zarahemla. For Mormons, it's a recognizable name, but not so much for non-Mormons. As I was reading about Zarahemla, I thought, "Zarahemla.....Zara....I kind of like that name." Because of the way Zarahemla is pronounced, I say Zara like Sara or Kara with a "Z". Most people pronounce Zara like Car-a or Zar-a. I'm fine with either pronunciation.

I Googled the name Zara and discovered that it has Arabic roots and can mean shining, radiance, desert flower or princess; all meanings that I loved. Zara went to the top of our small list of potential girl names. In the last two weeks of my pregnancy (during the inducement dramas), I became more convinced that my baby was girl and that her name was Zara. I was pretty sold on the name before she was born and luckily, it was David's favorite name too. Shortly after she was born, both David and I decided that Zara would be her name.

The middle name, however, took a lot longer to decide on. We toyed around with the name Colleen, after David's mom (it's her middle name) or Mae, after my great-grandmother Leavitt (her name was Bertha Mae) but neither seemed to fit. I had also suggested names like Grace, Faith, Hope, and Charity because I love what they mean and I think we could use a little bit more of each of those virtues in our world.

David left the hospital late on the 31st to go home to feed Suyom and get some sleep. He called me when he got home and said, "Hope. I'm thinking maybe Hope should be her middle name. Let's think about it." The next morning, when David returned to the hospital, he once again suggested Hope as her middle name. "Our children are our hope for the future, after all," said David. And I couldn't agree more. And so her name became Zara Hope. Our radiant hope for the future and our little princess.

I like it. I hope she does too.

She's Here!!!

Introducing: Zara Hope Malone
Born: August 31, 2010
Time: 2:41 p.m.
Weight: 7 pounds, 10 ounces
Length: 20 inches


David and I went to sleep on the night of the 30th, anticipating an early morning wake-up call to head to the hospital to be induced. I was still apprehensive about how it would all go down (and how well I'd do laboring on Pitocin with no drugs) but mostly at peace with the whole situation since the baby seemed quite content to remain where she was and I was beyond ready for her to make her appearance. So imagine my surprise when I woke up at 1:30 a.m. in a puddle of amniotic fluid. I was not expecting my water to break (since only 10% of women actually have their waters break naturally) and I was not expecting for it to happen on its own. I woke up David and said, "I think my water just broke." David turned on the light and sure enough, there was a lake of water and more was pouring out. I asked David, "What do we do now?" I seriously had no idea what to do, I was in so much shock. David told me to call our doula, Tonya, who recommended that we shower, grab a little something to eat, and then head to the hospital, where she would meet us. While I showered, David cleaned up the mess I'd left in the bed (sorry honey!) and packed the car.

We arrived at the hospital a little before 3 a.m. and I was immediately admitted and taken into the labor and delivery room. (Luckily, I was the only woman who gave birth that day.) My contractions had started, but they were pretty mild at this point and were still about 5 minutes apart. (Normally, we would have waited to go to the hospital until I was further along, but the doctors wanted me to come in right away if my water broke.) I had to get hooked up the all the fetal monitors and had an IV started to get a dose of antibotics for Group B strep. Things seemed to be going well, although my contractions were not really rising in intensity or frequency. Tonya had me walk around (as much as I could) and do squats to help things progress. I really didn't feel too much pain at this point. In fact, getting my IV was the most annoying and painful part of the early labor.

One of the nurses--a Korean nurse who lacked something in bedside manners (mostly on account of her shaky English)--told us that the doctor wanted me to be given magnesium in the event that I had a seizure while in labor. We asked to talk to the doctors about this so around 7:30 ish, two of the doctors (Dr. Cundiff and Dr. DeVore) came into the room. Since I had been "diagnosed" with pre-eclampsia (a diagnosis which both David and I completely refute), the doctors wanted to take pre-emptive measures in case I should be one of the 1 in 500 women with pre-eclampsia who have seizures. When we learned a little bit more about the side effects of the magnesium (I wouldn't be allowed to stand up on account of the drowniess and diminished reflexes and I'd have to get a catheter), we opted to forego the magnesium because I didn't think it'd be a problem. (And it wasn't because there was nothing wrong with me in the first place.) However, the nurse had already gone ahead and started giving me IV fluids which is needed before starting the magnesium and that slowed my contractions down.

Dr. DeVore, who I wanted to deliver our baby, was scheduled to be in the WICU that day, but she had meetings and another doctor, Dr. Pickinpaugh, would be covering her until around 3 p.m. I'd never met the other doctor and she came in shortly after to introduce herself. She's 33 weeks pregnant with her first baby too. (I don't know why, but somehow it's always comforting when my female OB-GYNs have children of their own. I trust them more since they've been through pregnancy and labor too. Seems weird, since I certainly wouldn't expect my heart surgeon to have had open heart surgery themselves to feel that they'd do a good job.) They checked my cervix and I had only dilated to a 4, maybe a 5. I was shocked. I really thought I'd be further along by this point. I had been chanting in my head "You're getting big, you're getting big" during each contraction, but apparently, my contractions hadn't really been doing anything.

Around 10:30ish, Dr. Pickinpaugh suggested that I be put on a low dosage of Pitocin to help kick up the intensity of my contractions. I had really hoped to avoid Pitocin altogether since labor had started naturally, but I had been prepared for the possibility and so we consented to have them start me on a low dosage, which they did a little after 11 a.m. My contractions had started to get more intense by this point and the Pitocin certainly kicked it up a notch. I cried through a few contractions as they intensified, which only made them hurt more, but Tonya was finally able to get me to breathe through the contractions which helped to lessen the pain. I really was unprepared for what the contractions would feel like. The contractions of early labor felt more like menstrual cramps but these....well, unless you've been through labor, you know there's just no describing what it feels like. It didn't help that I felt most of the pain in my back and legs and couldn't get into a comfortable position. Your body is so hyper-aware of everything that's going on during labor. You're so intimately connected to your body and what it's doing but at the same time, it almost feels like you're having an out-of-body experience. That's the best way I can describe it.

I'd been on the Pitocin for about two hours when I started to seriously question my sanity. During each contraction, I would think to myself, "Okay, it's time for some drugs." But the contraction would pass and I'd feel okay for about a minute. When another contraction would come, I'd breathe my way through it as best as I could and think to myself, "Okay, just get through one more contraction and then we'll think about the drugs again." I was pretty sure I wasn't going to last much longer without some medicinical relief when my entire body convulsed and I said, "I think I need to push." The nurse came in to check me and sure enough, in two hours I'd dilated from a 4 to a 10 and was, indeed, ready to push. The nurses quickly got everything set up and the doctor was called in.

Pushing through the contractions actually felt really good. It still hurts, but it's a satisfying pain because you finally feel like you're getting somewhere. I do wish that I had been allowed to walk around or move into different positions because I think that may have helped speed up the pushing stage of labor. I pushed for about an hour just to get the baby's head to crown. Apparently, each time I'd push, a little bit more of Zara's head full of dark hair would show and when I'd stop, it'd retreat back but a little curl would still be showing. I was quite surprised how much time (about 2-3 minutes) lapsed between contractions. I'd push, and then sit there and talk to the doctor or try to get into a more comfortable position and then ready myself to push again.

After an hour had passed, I decided that I was done pushing and that I wanted the baby out of me right now. I pushed harder and harder (and I honestly probably pushed when I should have just rested) but I was desperate. The head finally started to crown and I said, "You guys weren't kidding about that ring of fire!" which made the doctor and the nurses laugh. After a few more deep pushes, the head finally emerged and the rest of Zara just slipped right out. David cut the umbilical cord and Zara was put on my chest. The nurses quickly cleared her passageways and wiped her off a bit and I attempted to breastfeed her while the doctor stitched me up.

I got a second-degree tear. I think I could have avoided tearing if I'd been more patient and not pushed quite so hard and long those last ten minutes but I really didn't care at that point. I'm just glad I avoided a fourth-degree tear. Those scare me. It took the doctor over an hour to stitch me up since she had to work very carefully around my Barothlin glands and repair some stretching to the surgery I'd had on those to prevent them from getting clogged. The best part was finally getting to eat the Snickers bar I'd packed to eat after the delivery. I was starving and that Snickers tasted glorious. I held Zara for about two hours before they took her to weigh her and give her a bath.

We were allowed to stay in the labor and delivery room for most of the day before they moved us into my own private room. I really lucked out since the other rooms are shared rooms. The first night was uneventful but the second night in the hospital was pretty rough. Zara did not want to calm down and I barely got any sleep. It didn't help that a big typhoon hit Korea that night and the power kept shutting down in the hospital. They eventually put the rooms on emergency-only power which meant that I couldn't move my bed out of the upright position. It wasn't so bad when I needed to nurse, but not so fun when I wanted to sleep. We finally made it through the night and after waiting awhile for the typhoon to completely pass, we were finally cleared to be discharged.


It's been so much nicer to be home, although I don't do much except feed Zara, change Zara's diapers, and try to get some sleep in between. I know it won't be like this forever and Zara really is a peaceful, contented baby most of the time. In fact, I'm the one that has to wake her up to feed. Otherwise, I think she'd just keep sleeping.

You go through nine months of pregnancy and so many hours of labor to finally get this thing, this child, who demands so much of your time, attention, and love. You're tired and in pain and life suddenly gets expotentially more complicated. There's this little person who is entirely dependent on you. You can't just run out to the grocery store or do whatever you want now. It's shocking to think how much your life has to change now but, in the end, you know it's totally worth it.

Zara was definitely worth it. And I still can't believe that she came out of me.

The Last Day

Well, here it is folks. My last day as a pregnant woman. Our last day as a childless couple. I'm trying real hard to not freak out but it's kinda hard. Of course, I'm insanely excited for our baby to FINALLY be here but I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I'm also a little nervous about how the whole thing will go down.

We got our extra week and David and I are very thankful for that. We knew that the baby would probably not come on its own (stubborn little thing that it is) but unlike last week, when the thought of induction had us miserable and anxious, we feel at peace with being induced tomorrow. I don't know what changed--I'm still not thrilled about being induced--but somehow that extra week was what both the baby and I needed. I feel like my body is ready to give birth, it just needs a little kick-start. I'm hoping that either just breaking my waters or a low dosage of Pictocin will be just the trick. So, we're going in at the crack of dawn tomorrow morning (6 a.m.) to get checked in and prepped. My doctor comes on shift at 7:30 a.m. so sometime soon after that, they'll start the induction. I hope we'll have some good news to report soon after that. David is convinced I'll have a fast labor, but I'm not getting my hopes up.....too much. I don't know how, but we'll try to keep everyone updated via Facebook and the blog.

So on my last day before motherhood, I plan to do a little cleaning so the house isn't a disaster when I come home from the hospital, re-pack my hospital bag, tidy up the nursery, finish a load or two of laundry, pet Suyom for a good while, and spend some quality time with David. And tomorrow, fingers crossed, I'll be holding my baby in my arms. Good thing too. My belly can't take it anymore.

Did the cow moo at your feelings?

I realize this blog has become a tad baby obsessed as of late so here's something that's slightly not related to the baby. Well, at least not my human baby. It has to do with my feline baby.

One of David and my favorite sayings comes from my friend Kara's son, Andrew. Apparently, Drew has a bit of a phobia related to cows (or at least he did a year ago) so his parents bought him a stuffed cow to help him overcome his fears. When Kara discovered her son hitting his cow and she inquired why he was doing it, Andrew replied, "Because the cow mooed at my feelings! And it made me feel sad."

David and I laughed and laughed and laughed over that story and it's become something of a catch-phrase for us. Whenever one of is feeling dejected or sad, the other will ask, "Did the cow moo at your feelings?" It never fails to make us laugh. And it's become even more hilarious now that we have our own cow situation.

My mother sent us this purple cow stuffed animal/pillow for our baby. Apparently, this purple cow mooed at Suyom's feelings because she's had it out for the cow since it took up residence in the baby's crib. When the side railing of the crib was down, I used to walk into the nursery to find the cow had been pushed out of the crib and one morning, I woke up to find that Suyom had dragged the thing (which is nearly as big as her) into our room. We put the side railing of the crib back up to prevent Suyom from easily knocking down the cow but I'll still find the cow lying on its side in the crib with some obvious traces of man-handling from our dear cat.

I believe that animals are very intuitive and have a great awareness to changes in their environment. I often wonder how much Suyom understands about my growing belly and the baby that will soon join our family. The night Baby was conceived, for instance, Suyom was uncharacteristically affectionate and curled up on my stomach to fall asleep as I petted her. She has never done that before or since. She obviously knows something is up since the spare room now has a lot of new furniture which she delights in sleeping on so now everything in the nursery has a fine sheen of black cat hair covering it. Maybe she's nervous or scared or sad about what's going on. She'll no longer be the only baby in the family to be pet and loved whenever she wants. I think she's taking it out on the poor cow.

Who knew cows were so contentious?

Another Week (and that's a good thing...)

Good news on the pregnancy front. Like I mentioned before, my original due date was September 1st but after my first ultrasound, the doctor bumped the date up to August 25th. I never felt comfortable with this new date because 1) I know exactly when this baby was conceived and 2) my family has a history of carrying babies past the due date. Sure, I liked thinking that maybe my baby could come earlier but in reality, I always assumed Baby wouldn't be showing up until September. So when the doctors started talking about inducing me on my due date (something I've wanted to avoid at all costs), I saw August 25th as a big blaring stop sign to my pregnancy. I needed to get this baby out any way I could before then even though I knew the baby wasn't ready. And Baby most certainly does not want to budge. Because Baby is plenty comfortable in there and Baby knows--like I do--that it's still got some growing to do.

At my check-up last week, I was supposed to be 39 weeks along, but I only measured at 38 weeks. (The size of your uterus is supposed to match to the number of weeks you are.) Despite that fact, August 25th was still my deadline and I was desperate for something to happen last week...that by some miracle I'd go into labor early. But as the week and then the weekend came and went, I resigned myself to the sad reality that I'd have to be induced this week. I've been a bit of a wreck about it. (Love those pregnancy hormones/third trimester depression. It's super fun!)

Anyway.....today, David and I went to another appointment (I swear, I feel like I live at the hospital these days) and the doctor on call said that based on all my information, it looked like August 25th was simply the wrong date and that the baby's due date should never have been changed in the first place. The Baby is just not done cooking. She sounded apologetic, like she thought we'd be disappointed to have our due date (and thus the impending inducement) moved back a week but David and I were elated and profusely thanked the doctor for not forcing an inducement this week.

So now we have one more week to convince this baby that it should come on its own. Otherwise, we're scheduled for an inducement on Tuesday, August 31st. (It should have been September 1st, but I really don't like the doctor scheduled for that day, so we moved it up a day. I mean, if I have to be induced, I should at least get to choose the doctor who'll deliver my baby.)

I'm glad to have another week to help my baby grow and another week for the obstinate little thing to prepare itself for birth. While I think some inducements are medically necessary, I never felt that my case constituted a medical necessity and I've absolutely hated the idea of forcing this child to be born before it is ready. I'm still hoping I can go into labor on my own (I have been having some contractions on and off for a few days now and I am dilated to a 3) but if I do have to be induced, at least I'll know that my baby had enough time to fully grow and develop.

So yay for good news. I really needed it.

Pregnancy Ups and Downs

Since I'm STILL pregnant, I thought I'd take a moment to write down the things I've both liked and disliked about pregnancy. When most people talk about the horrors of being pregnant, they're mostly talking about the last month or two. Of course, that's what you remember most about being pregnant since it was at the end of the pregnancy and the most uncomfortable part of it. For the first seven months of my pregnancy, I just couldn't understand why so many people seemed to think pregnancy sucked. I get it now (and I know I've had a relatively easy pregnancy) but I still think people tend to blow it way out of porportion. Still, my experiences are not other people's experiences but I do have a newfound respect for any woman who willingly chooses to have more than one child. :-)

What I Have Enjoyed

1.) I've loved feeling my baby move and squirm and hiccup inside of me. Sure, it can sometimes be rather uncomfortable, especially when Baby puts some force behind it, but it's also pretty incredible to watch your belly move or to see the barest outline of a foot press against your skin.

2.) Of all the images we've been given after an ultrasound, there's nothing I like to look at better than the picture of my baby's open hand, with its five perfectly formed fingers. To think that those perfect hands and feet are growing inside of me is simply astounding. And slightly creepy.

3.) Climbing the Great Wall of China six months pregnant. It makes for a great story and reminds me that there used to be a time when standing upright for more than 10 minutes wasn't one of life's great challenges.

4.) It may sound cliche and uber-cheesey, but there really is this indescribable feeling of awe and wonderment that comes from creating life. Not only do I feel an unbreakable bond forming between me and my child, but I have also felt a greater connection to all the women throughout history who have experienced pregnancy and birth.

5.) I'm extremely grateful that I avoided some of the common complications of pregnancy (though certainly not all). I had no morning sickness (just slight nausea) and have not thrown up once my entire pregnancy. My ankles, hands, and face have not swollen or become unrecognizable. (My wedding ring still falls off my finger from time to time.) I've had no heartburn or found foods that I could not eat. I didn't gain 50 pounds. (Though I think this has more to do with the fact that I live in Korea and couldn't eat In & Out or Chipotle twice a day like I wished I could. I think if I had been pregnant in the States, I would have been able to indulge my cravings far more often and would definitely have gained a LOT more weight.)

6.) Sometimes, when I'm driving around or cleaning the house or just watching TV, Baby would kick me as if to let me know that I wasn't alone. I've carried on many one-sided conversations with the baby, telling it about my day, or how I'm feeling, or confessing just how truly scared I am about bringing them into the world and about being a good mother. And sometimes, just sometimes, the baby will move in just such a way that I know that they understand. And think I'll do just fine.

What I Have Not Liked

1.) The waiting. I am severely lacking in patience and nine months of gestation just seems like cruel and unusual punishment. At least I can be grateful that I'm not an elephant, who can have gestation periods of up to 22 months.

2.) The unknown. There's always that little voice in the back of my mind that whispers that something may be wrong. Maybe my baby will have eleven toes instead of ten. Maybe they'll have a learning disability or have some rare genetic disease. Maybe I'll have to have an emergency C-section or I didn't eat enough vegetables and the baby will never eat carrots and forever have bad eyesight. But then there's the voice that tells me that even if my baby isn't perfect, I'll still think that they are.

3.) The stretch marks. Oh, the stretch marks. I joyously thought I'd dodged another bullet and managed to not get stretch marks, but it turns out that I just couldn't see them because my belly was too big. When I finally noticed that they were there, I was depressed for a week. It's not like I ever paraded my bare stomach around for all the world to see before I got pregnant, but my belly will not most assuredly never see the light of day now.

4.) Physically, pregnancy has been relatively easy on me. But I was simply unprepared for how mentally and emotionally difficult it has been on me. I'd like to put all the blame on the crazy pregnancy hormones, but that wouldn't really be accurate. While I was quite happy through my first two trimesters, I've been having a rough time of it these last three months. I did feel much better when my mom told me that she was often depressed in her third trimester and that it's quite normal for expectant mothers to fall into these funks. I just hope that since depression has hit me now, I can maybe avoid having post-partum depression as well. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

5.) Recognizing that my body has limitations. I keep forgetting that I can't run or walk as fast as I used to, that I can't sleep on my stomach, or even sit up without some assistance. I can't wait to have my body back and to not feel like I need a nap after running a 15-minute errand. I like to think about what a beautiful and selfless sacrifice I've made to carry this child and bring it into the world, but some days, I really do feel like nothing more than a walking incubator and I'm ready for that to be over. All I can say is that I'm truly grateful we have a nice air conditioned car.

6.) I did not have a single conversation at church today that did not involve a discussion of my baby, my due date, my excitement level, or how I'm feeling about being large with child. And while I completely understand that my massive belly is my most distinguishing characteristic right now, I can't wait to feel like an individual with my own identity again that is separate from my maternal state. I just hope the conversations I have post-partum will not revolve exclusively around poopy diapers or breastfeeding.

I just have to keep remembering that the end is in sight. And soon I'll have my own baby in my own two arms. Please just tell me that it's all been worth it. And even if it's not, just lie and tell me that it is, okay? 'Cause there's just no turning back now.

The Countdown Begins

Today is 39 weeks and I'm still pregnant. Since my original due date was September 1st and since my family has a history of having overdue babies, I assumed my baby wouldn't be showing up until September. And I was okay with that. That is, until my doctors decided that they didn't want me to continue my pregnancy past my new due date of August 25th. So now I've got about 6 days to do everything I possibly can to get this baby out of me before I have to be medically induced. I really had hoped that I could avoid any medical intervention but Baby doesn't seem to want to leave its nice, comfy home, despite the quarters becoming more and more cramped. We're tried a lot of the standard natural induction practices: squatting, walking, and....other stuff ;-). I ate an entire plate of kimchi at dinner tonight because some people say that eating spicy foods can help bring on labor. All I know is that I'm ready for this baby to come, but I want it to come on its own so that I can labor without medication. There are a few other options available before they'd administer Pictocin (like stripping my membranes or breaking my water) which I'm considering in the meantime.

The good news is that I have continued to dilate and am now at a 3, almost a 4, according to the doctor and the baby's head is in position and not bobbing around. So maybe, just maybe, this baby will show up soon. I'm getting very impatient. I didn't realize how difficult these last two weeks would be with the expectations and the waiting and the anxiety.

Still, it's somewhat nice to know that I'll have a baby in my arms by August 26th, at the latest.

Baby Shower

My friends Jenn and Amber threw me a baby shower yesterday and it was fantastic. Now, lest you start freaking out that David and I didn't mention we had our baby, don't worry. I'm still very much pregnant (my arm is covering up much of my belly bump in this photo) and the baby David is holding belongs to our friend Amanda who gave birth to her adorable son last week.

Several people walked into the room, saw David holding a baby and gave us funny looks like "Did we miss something?"

The party was decorated in purples and yellows, two of my favorite colors. Jenn's daughter Miriya thinks that everything purple belongs to Miss Liz and whenever she draws me a picture, it's always in purple.

I made some mini-lime cheesecake cups and they were delicious. I've still got a few sitting in my refrigerator. Maybe I should go eat another one.

We ate a delicious meal of homemade breads, chicken salad, and Caesar salad and then played several games. For the first game, Amber gave David a list of questions and the women had to guess how David answered them. I loved his responses and I wanted to always remember them, so I typed them out here.

What does David think?

1. How many diapers will you change in 24 hours?
16 - babies poo a lot

2. How much will your baby weigh?
7 lbs 3 oz. [As long as the baby is under 8 lbs, I'll be happy.]

3. What will be your baby's first word?
Either mama and baba (mom and dad in Chinese)

4. What has Liz craved the most during her pregnancy?
In & Out and Chipotle [He got this one right. I dream about In & Out on a regular basis.]

5. How old will your baby be when it crawls?
5 months

6. At what age will your baby be when it takes its first steps?
8 months

7. Will your baby be born with or without hair and if so what color will it be?
with blonde hair

8. What color do you think your baby's eyes will be?
blue

9. What will be the first toy you buy your baby?
Legos/Duplo (the big Legos)

10. Where do you think your baby will serve his or her mission?
China

11. How old will your baby be when it sleeps through the night?
4 months and 5 days

12. What will be your baby's favorite solid food?
Sugar. Anything sugar owing to Liz's high sugar intake during pregnancy. [Man, I hope that isn't true.]

13. How old will your baby be when it gets its first tooth?
9 months. Hopefully it will be old enough not to bite Liz's breasts. I want them back unscathed. [Now this made me blush.]

14. How often will your newborn baby eat?
Every 53 minutes. Babies are hungry little critters.

15. What will your baby study at school?
That depends. It will either take after Liz and study history/art/literature, or like me and study math/science/business.

16. How old will your child be when it gets married?
25-27. None of that under 21 trash that so many Mormons do. (No offense!)

17. How old will your child be when it makes you a grandpa?
50. They are allowed to marry at 25, but they can't have sex till they are older.

18. What phrase do you think Liz will say during labor?
All the cliches. "You did this to me!" "I'm gonna cut off your....." etc. [I'll have to report back on what I really say. But I have been looking forward to putting David on a guilt trip during labor.]

19. How long do you think Liz will be in labor?
5 hours and 23 minutes [I wish. I'm guessing my first time will take a little longer but given my family history of relatively quick labors, I'm hoping for 8 hours.]

20. What would Liz say her favorite part of being pregnant is?
No headaches. It's easy. She gets out of car inspections. [My favorite part is feeling the baby move. But about the car inspections: when we drive onto the base, the security guards will sometimes do "random" car inspections to make sure you're not bringing anything illegal or dangerous onto the base. They've recently ramped up the number of inspections they perform and we've been pulled over a ridiculous number of times for them to look under our car, check inside our trunks and look under our hood. (It happened twice in one day, even.) But the last few times they've tried to inspect my car, I've very sternly said, "I'm nine months pregnant. I am not climbing out of my car so you can inspect it." And the flustered Korean men just wave me on by because they don't speak English well enough to argue with me. It's been nice.]

21. What piece of advice would you give someone having their first baby?
Seeing as how I had no idea how to answer these questions, I recommend that they learn more about baby development. But besides that, I'd tell the fathers to do everything they can to make the mother comfortable, and I'd tell the mothers to try not to worry about the things they can't control and to enjoy the experience of growing a baby as much as possible because guys will never know what that is like. [I think this is great advice.]

David is so excited for our baby to arrive. Of course, that's easy for him to say since he's not the one that actually has to push a baby out of him, but I'm getting pretty excited myself. I really hope the baby will come soon (mostly so we can avoid being induced) and every day brings us that much closer to having our own baby in our arms.

A Watched Pot Won't Ever Boil

I feel like I can really relate to this song right now. I'm definitely feeling like a watched pot that doesn't want to boil. Just gotta give it time....


Arcade Fire, Neighboorhood #4 (7 Kettles)

I am waitin’ ’til I don’t know when,
cause I’m sure it’s gonna happen then.
Time keeps creepin’ through the neighborhood,
killing old folks, wakin’ up babies just like we knew it would.

All the neighbors are startin’ up a fire,
burning all the old folks the witches and the liars.
My eyes are covered by the hands of my unborn kids,
but my heart keeps watchin’ through the skin of my eyelids.

They say a watched pot won’t ever boil,
well I closed my eyes and nothin’ changed,
just some water getting hotter in the flames.

It’s not a lover I want no more,
and it’s not heaven I’m pining for,
but there’s some spirit I used to know,
that’s been drowned out by the radio!

They say a watched pot won’t ever boil,
you can’t raise a baby on motor oil,
just like a seed down in the soil you gotta give it time.


I really love Arcade Fire. I need to get their new album. Maybe it'll be my gift to myself for pushing this baby out of me.