Do more kegels

I love boxing class at the gym.  I tried Zumba, but we all know how that turned out….  No, I’m too special for Zumba.  We do something different each week at boxing class.  Each week I leave feeling like I want to curl up in a ball and sleep for a few days.  We do circuits, intervals, weights, pretty much anything that gets your heart rate up (in between the actual boxing of course).

This week, they busted out the jump ropes.  I can’t remember how long it’s been since I’ve jump roped, but it’s definitely been a very long time.  When I was little, I did Jump rope for Heart, and occasionally, we’d do double dutch jump roping at recess in grade school.  Yeah, long time indeed.  I was kind of excited when the instructor came in with the jump ropes.  Awesome, I’ve got this.

I was handed a jump rope and told to jump for one minute.  The rope was far too big for me.  I held out my arms like I was trying to measure something long so that I wouldn’t trip over the ginormous rope.

I took my first jump.  Oh.  My.  Goodness.  Was that?  Did I just…?

I jumped again.  A look of horror spread across my face.  The instructor looked at me oddly.  I pretended to get my feet all caught in the ridiculously large rope to pass time, jumping as little as I could.  I couldn’t just stand there, looking like a fool.  I jumped again.

Oh crap. I kept jumping.  With every jump, it kept happening.  I constantly (on purpose) got my feet tangled in the rope.  I kept jumping.  With every jump, a couple drops of pee came out.  I tried to hold it with all my might.  I kept jumping.  I kept leaking.  I put my legs together as far as I possibly could, desperately trying to gain the much needed control of my rogue bladder.

“Ok, stop!”  The instructor told us.

“I’ll be right back, I really have to pee!”  More funny looks.  Just behind me, another girl was running out too.  We ran to the bathroom, emptied our bladders, and went back to class.

“At least you have an excuse,” the girl around my age said “I’ve never had a baby!”

“Sorry, seems I need to do more Kegels.”  Yeah, I actually did announce this to the entire class.  Why not?

Time to jump again.  What???  How can this be happening again????  I JUST went to the bathroom! I spent most of the jump rope time pretending my feet were tangled in the rope with each jump.  Plausible of course, since I’m fun-sized and the ropes are giant sized.

Lesson learned:  do more kegels.

A conversation with Hannah

Hannah: “MOM!”

Me: “Yes baby?”

Hannah: “Bum.”

Me: “Um…ok then.”

Hannah: “Adubudubudbubba.”

Me: “Oh, that sounds interesting.”

Hannah: “Mum bum.”

Me (laughing, I can’t help it): “Oh, Mom is a bum?”

Hannah: “Dog Dog!”

Me: “Good girl, you heard a dog dog.  Do you like dog dogs?”

Hannah *nods head*: “mmmmm.”

Me: “Why do you like dog dogs?”

Hannah: “Yabbabudadadada aaaaaiiibdee.”

Me: “You’re so cute!”

Me: “OH GOODNESS!!!” Something warm was running down my bare stomach, trickling down my leg.  It took me a second to realise what had just happened.

Me: “She just peed on me!” I said to all the curious people looking at me, wondering about my little outburst.

Someone else: “Isn’t she wearing a swim nappy?”

Me: “Me, no, I took it off to dry her since it’s our turn next on the change table.”  I guess that’s what I get for prematurely taking off a baby’s nappy.

Me: “See you guys later, we’re going to have a shower….”

Pee pee bath, beach time, mummified, and up all night

Time since birth: 4 months
Where has the time gone??

I’m not impressed, I have a cold. The skin around my nostrils is bright red and peeling due to excessive nose blowing. I sound like I have a frog in my throat. I feel like I have a frog in my throat. My nose has turned into a faucet. I’ve been feeding Hannah with kleenex stuffed up my nose so it doesn’t drip on her. I must look rather funny, a boob hanging out with a bubba attached, kleenex hanging out of my nose. I think Hannah might have caught my cold. Last night she was up 5 times. Never in her life has she been up 5 times before (I kept records, I checked). She doesn’t seem sick though. I suppose there are a million other reasons why a baby would be up so many times. The first time (10pm) she seemed gassy, the kind that burns when it comes out. I patted her and she screamed as she did huge farts. I thought she had done a giant poo, but upon nappy checking, all I found was pee. I gave her some booby to settle her down and then she went back to sleep. 12pm – the crying started again. She seemed a bit snuffly. I gave her some booby and she went back to sleep. 2pm, surely she can’t be hungry again. I patted her and let her suck my finger (after I sanitised it) and she went back to sleep. 3pm, awake again. I gave her some more booby which she took ravenously. 5pm, I could hear her grizzling, and crying a bit on the monitor, but I didn’t get up, it didn’t sound urgent. She went back to sleep. As I said, there are so many reasons why she could have been waking up. Maybe she was too hot or cold (it was pretty hot at the beginning of the night), maybe she was uncomfortable with wind or just the way she was wrapped. Maybe she was hungry. Maybe she just couldn’t resettle herself after her sleep cycle (babies have sleep cycles of about 45 minutes). Who knows. I just hope that tonight is better. I feel like a zombie today. Maybe more like a mummy, I do have kleenex hanging out of my nose. I could walk around with my arms in front of me and scare small children if I wanted to. Come to think of it, zombies and mummies are quite similar. Maybe mummies are just zombies with bandages? Yes, I know I’m random.

The race that stops the nation. That is the Melbourne cup. I like to dress up for the occasion, as I have done for a few years now. It’s fun to put on a nice dress and put a fascinator (or hat, whatever takes your fancy) in your hair to watch the race. I’m not particularly into horse racing (I feel a bit sorry for the horses, I think backyard horses would get so much more love and attention), but it’s a good excuse to dress up. I was going to wear the fascinator myself, but I put it on Hannah for a bit of a laugh. She looked so cute that I left it there. We went to the pub with Grandma to watch the race and I could hear everyone commenting on how cute Hannah was as we walked by.

Aaron usually gives Hannah her bath, but sometimes I feel like a bit of a bath, so she has one with me. We have a bit of a special hot water system in this apartment building that only refills once per day (well, night, sometime in the middle of it). There is enough water for 2 showers with a bit left over, or a bath and a shower. Needless to say if Aaron and I both wish to stay clean, Hannah can’t have a bath as often as needed, so she ends up having a shower with Aaron most of the time. I felt like a bath, so after I had a relaxing nice bath, in came Aaron with Hannah for her wash. He stood her up in the water, holding under her armpits to balance her. Her lower half is usually under the water, but since she was standing, Aaron could clearly see that she did pee pees as soon as she got in. I wonder if she always does that. Is it gross that I didn’t get out? I mean I was already in there, It was already in the water, we were out of hot water, and getting out wasn’t going to change the fact that it was already on me. It’s not like it was a huge volume or anything either, she is only tiny. I think Aaron is a bit scared of having a bath with her now. It’s funny, before having a baby, I would have been mortified to think that I would be in a bath with pee, but now, after being peed on, pooed on, vomited on, finding vomit in my hair at the end of the day and not knowing when it got there, etc., a little pee does not bother me. Of course if I could control the matter, there would never be pee in the bath with me, but it’s out of my control, so what can you do? Shortly after the pee fountain, the bathtub became a spa. Little bubbles came up all around Hannah. I take it she likes to fart in the bath too. Maybe she was just gassy that day. Lucky for me, there was no follow through. That, I would have vacated the bath for.

It was supposed to rain on Saturday, but it ended up being a very nice day. We went to a lunch at someone from Aaron’s works house near the beach, so we decided to take Bubba to the beach for the first time. I had already purchased her a really cute little swimming suit. Well, it’s not so little, it like a rashee with legs. It covers her from her neck, to her wrists to her ankles, and is SPF 50. Don’t want the bubba getting sunburned!! I also bought her a sun tent. It’s like a dome tent that you sleep in when camping, only it has an open side. That way you can always have shade at the beach and not burn the Bubba. We didn’t stay long at the beach as it was quite windy, but Hannah seemed to really like it. We stood her in the sand (holding under her armpits, she is a super baby, but she can’t stand yet…), and she smiled and wanted to bounce. She loves to bounce. She bends her little knees and then pushes and who ever is holding her then pulls her up as if she is jumping. She loves it.

Freak Cartoon, Sick, Horrible Mommy, Rice cereal, and Dreamfeeds

There’s nothing on TV on Sunday mornings. Hannah was having a nap, and we like to have some constant noise so she doesn’t get used to napping in silence (we don’t want to have to tip toe around the house while she is napping!). We settled on the Sunday morning cartoons. My how they have changed since I was a kid! There was a cute lion and lioness, walking upright, the lioness wearing an apron. All seemed well until the lioness said (and these are the exact words) “We have the house to ourselves, and I’m still in H-E-A-T….” while suggestively kissing her lion husband and looking at him seductively. Seriously, is there ANY reason why something like that needs to be in a child’s cartoon?? How on earth did that get past editing, then why would the network agree to put it on tv, and what sort of freak show pervert draws and writes that in the first place. I mean really, it was so unnecessary. When I was little, I watched cartoons about a little bird who “taut he taw a puddy tat.” What has the world come to??

I wanted to put the washing out, so i put a towel on the ground and laid Hannah on her back while I pegged out the washing. I’d turn to check on her every few items, but when I turned, she was on her tummy, halfway off the towel!! She was quite chuffed with herself. I picked her up and she gave me the biggest, most accomplished grin. Of course she wouldn’t do it again though, not while mommy was watching!!

The next day she rolled on our bed twice, but this time from her tummy to her back. Clever girl!

Lately Hannah has been getting up twice during the night, making me into somewhat of a zombie. I have gotten used to only waking once, or not at all, so I decided that I would figure out a way to make her only get up once. First on my new plan: Don’t let her nap past 4pm. Sometimes she has a late nap but then wants to get up for the day at 4am. This isn’t usually a problem, but once in a while she refuses to sleep during the day and then wants a late nap. I can’t really blame, her, playing is so much more fun then sleeping!! Second part of New Plan: dream feed at 9pm. What is a dream feed you ask?? Simple, I went into Bubba’s room at 9pm, picked her up without unwrapping her, and put her straight on to my boob. She doesn’t actually wake up, but has a full feed while she is half asleep. Of course I was secretly hoping she wouldn’t wake up at all after taking such measures, but she only woke up once, so I deemed the whole exercise a success.

Monday morning Hannah wasn’t quite herself. She didn’t want to eat much, was lethargic, and had disturbingly bright green poos. Think Kermit the frog, and that is the right colour. I took her temperature and found it was 38 degrees (Celsius that is). Just a slight fever. She cried most of the morning. She didn’t even want to play, which is so unlike her. Since she was a bit lethargic, I thought it would be the perfect time to cut her nails. She usually flails about, making it rather difficult. Wow, it has never been so easy before! I must have gotten a bit too confident. She let out a huge painful cry, similar to the one I’ve only heard once, when she got her shots. Her tiny little thumb was bleeding. I cut her. I felt like the worst mom in the world. I cut my little baby. She cried for about 5 minutes, but I cuddled her the whole time. I felt so bad. At least she forgot for a moment that she didn’t feel the best.

She still wasn’t feeling well that afternoon, so I took her to the doctor. The doc took her temp (which was now normal), and checked her heartbeat, in her ears, in her mouth, etc. She looked fine. Doc thought it was probably a bug of some sort. It is common for little girls to get urinary tract infections as their poo has a tendency to go everywhere, including their poor little baby bits. Doc gave me 2 specimen cups to go home and catch her wee with. Doc also told me if she gets any worse, bring her back in or go to emergency if it’s the middle of the night.

Tuesday morning she was looking and feeling much better. She smiled at me and wanted to play when she woke up. I had to complete my urine catching mission first though. Now, it’s much easier to catch urine on little boys. You just have to attach a bag thing to his boyhood and wait (this is what one of the girls told me when her little boy had to be tested for a UTI). With girls on the other hand, you need to be a bit more patient, and employ your cat-like reflexes. I laid her out on her changing mat, nappy off, collection cup in hand, lid unscrewed but still sitting on it so as not to contaminate the future specimen, and waited. It didn’t take very long, she always pees when she has her nappy off. I used my said cat-like reflexes and, kept hold of the yellow lid in one hand, and like lightning, pressed the cup below the stream of pee. Success! Urine collected. Not a lot, but hey, babies don’t pee a lot anyway. It was enough. FYI, she doesn’t have a UTI, and is fine now.

We weren’t going to start Hannah on solids until she was at least 5 months, but, she had her first rice cereal (with booby milk) on Saturday. She was fussing at the beginning of all of her feeds for the last few weeks, so I took her to the early childhood centre to see the baby nurse. She recommend I introduce solids. They are not in any way to replace the breast milk, they are just for something a little extra. We don’t give it to her until after she has had a full meal of breast milk, and then she only has about a teaspoon. The first time we gave it to her, she didn’t really know what to do. She held it in her mouth for a little bit, made a funny face, then swallowed it. Most of it ended up all over her face. Not because she spat it out, but because she had never had a spoon in her mouth before and didn’t really know what to do. She had some for the third time this morning and has started opening her mouth in anticipation. Next weekend we can introduce some mashed potato (with booby milk). You are supposed to introduce bland vegetables before fruits, and only introduce something new every 7 days.

39 weeks

Pregnancy: 39 weeks 1 day
Total weight gain: 16.9kgs (37.25lbs)
Baby size (approx head to foot): 50.7cm (19.96in)
Baby weight (approx): 3.3kg (7.27lbs)

The count is in the single digits and less then a week away!!! Of course that is assuming Mushi decides to arrive on or before my due date. It’s CRAZY to think that at ANY TIME I could go in to labour!! We are very much ready for it though, we just want to meet little Mushi (and I just want to get him out of my pelvis!)!! The Jess thinks that Mushi will be born on the 1st of July, and has thought so since the beginning. That is her dad’s birthday and babies in the family tend to come on other family members birthdays (Aaron and his Grandma share the same birthday, as to a cousin and aunt or something along those lines). Or, maybe the 12th of July as that is Aaron’s Mum’s birthday (as well as Jennifer, my cousin’s, birthday). I’d much rather it be on the 1st, I don’t want to have to waddle around being very uncomfortable until the 12th. I, on the other hand, think Mushi will come on the 4th. It’s Independence day in the U.S. plus The Jess has a ball that day, and I think it would be funny if she had to turn up to the hospital in her ball gown while a bit tipsy. Would make for some interesting photos. Aaron thinks it will be the 5th.

When I went to the hospital for last weeks appointment, I was told I was “fully engaged,” meaning Mushi’s little head is right down in my pelvis and ready to be born. That doesn’t necessarily mean that he will be born asap, as first babies can descend a few weeks or more before being born. It does mean that he is in position and ready and could come at any time. The hospital appointments are generally uneventful. They take my blood pressure, measure my fundal height (which is inaccurate at this stage since they can’t measure the bottom of my uterus as it’s sitting in my pelvis), feel the baby’s position (laying on his side, head down, on the right side of my uterus. Good position to be in), listen to his heart rate, ask me how I’ve been feeling. At the appointment before the last one I had to take a lower vajayjay swab to check if I have strep B (or something similar sounding, but I think that is what it was checking), a bacteria that naturally lives down there and is not harmful usually, but can cause strife to the baby while it’s being born. Happy to report I’m negative on that front (which means I don’t have to have an antibiotic drip while giving birth. Phew. Don’t like needles!!).

I’ve been getting heaps of Braxton Hicks contractions lately, but they still don’t hurt at all. I don’t even feel them all. Sometimes if I’m paying close attention, I can feel them start (my uterus becomes hard), but usually I just notice when I touch my belly and find that it’s quite hard, then softens after a bit. Maybe I will be one of the lucky ones who doesn’t even realise they are in labour until the endish of the first stage because the contractions don’t hurt. Apparently that is how some people end up having to race to the hospital and give birth very soon after they get there. Usually you know you are in labour for quite a while before hand. Even though I know that most labours don’t begin with the water breaking (despite what the movies might have you think), I have this irrational fear that mine will break in an embarrassing public place (i.e. on the bus, at the store, at church, etc.). Let’s think about this: say I’m grocery shopping, I have a trolley full of groceries, but am not quite done yet. My water breaks. Do I finish my shopping, go to the checkout, then call the hospital? Do I ditch the groceries, and immediately leave? Of course I don’t drive by myself (Aaron is teaching me to drive the manual car, and I’m not quite confident enough to drive by myself yet. I’m a wussbag), so that would add another element to the equation. Do I then get a cab home, call someone who lives close by to come pick me up, get on the bus, wait for Aaron to come and get me?? Be good water, don’t break in public!

It is getting quite uncomfortable for me to do anything. Every time I stand up, there is a head on my bladder and I always feel like I have to pee (which maybe could be mistaken for a bladder infection except that it goes away when I sit down and take some of the pressure off). Again, due to a head being in my pelvis, there is a lot of pressure on my tailbone, and in the general butt area which can also get quite uncomfortable. Hard chairs certainly don’t help this either. When I eat, my belly prevents me from getting too close to the table. I end up getting lots of my dinner all over my shirt. Why don’t I just lean forward over my plate you ask? Mushi doesn’t like it when I lean forward, it must squish him. He immediately lets me know with a swift knee in the top of my uterus. Not like the kind he does when playing poke my limbs, but a sort of “knock that off mommy, I don’t like to be folded” kind of way. I’ve started keeping a towel next to me so when I eat I can drape it on myself.

A few people have asked me if I’m going to have photos of my labour. I do want photos, but only of the waist up. I don’t mind having photos of me making hideous “oh my goodness, this really hurts” faces, but I don’t need to see photos of the baby coming out or anything. I don’t need to see that place anyway, I certainly don’t need to see it with a head sticking out, and no one else should be seeing that part of me either (except Aaron and the doctors of course). I’ve heard that some people have those photos in an album at home, and actually show people. To me that is like saying “hello, here is my vagina.” So no, no photos South of the border thank you very much.

I finally took my citizenship test on Tuesday. It took me about 3 minutes (which was going through it twice to make sure I didn’t accidentally choose the wrong answer for any of them), and I got 19/20. I couldn’t remember who Australia’s first prime minister was. If you have read the citizenship textbook, the test is quite easy (well, except the one question…), but if you haven’t read it, you probably would fail miserably. I was going to eat lunch with Aaron later that day, since I was already in the city anyway, but I finished so quickly, I had 2 and a half hours before our lunch. Even though I’ve always been embarrassed by this prospect, I went to the movies by myself. I didn’t particularly want to walk (I mean waddle) around for 2 hours as my feet would end up the size of fully inflated balloons. The only movie that finished in time to meet Aaron for lunch was in Gold Class, so I thought what the heck, I just passed my test, I’ll treat myself. I was still quite embarrassed to be going to a movie alone (no offence Dad, I know you do that a lot), but then the only other person in the gold class cinema was a random guy who was also by himself (several rows in front of me, luckily not nearby as that would have been very awkward). Oh, did I mention I was watching a total chick flick, The Proposal? I didn’t feel so embarrassed after that. Although expensive, Gold class is very comfortable. They have big overstuffed recliners that you sit in. Perfect for a very pregnant woman who needs to put her feet up.

Thursday, I had someone from Baby BeeHinds come over and do a nappy (um…diaper) demonstration. As I said in the blog months ago, we are going cloth. Cloth nappies are not like the used to be. Now they are fitted, have inserts to catch more pee, have snaps to make them bigger or smaller depending on your baby’s size, etc. They are very good. The ones I got are “one size fits most,” so I won’t need to buy anymore nappies, they are good from newborn to something ridiculous like 3 or 4 years old (I hope Mushi is potty trained before 3…). Sure I spent $533 on them, but if I were to use disposables, I’d be looking at at least $2000 (and that is a conservative estimate) for the time Mushi is in diapers. Plus, we can use these for our next baby. They will take about 10 days to get here, so hopefully we will already have a baby by then….

I know this post is long, but what the hay, I’m going to keep going. No one is forcing you to read this. Saturday, The Jess and I decided to go to Pancakes on the Rocks (for those U.S.Aliens reading this, Pancakes on the Rocks is a Pancakes restaurant at the Rocks in Sydney. No ordinary pancake place though, this one serves chocolate pancakes with chocolate syrup, and chocolate ice cream. That is one of their concoctions anyway). I wrote down the driving directions, and we set off. Things got hairy only a few minutes into our trip when we accidentally took the harbour tunnel instead of the bridge. The directions tell you to take the Bradfield Highway (not actual name, but I can’t remember it’s actual name at this time), but then the road signs use no such highway name and just give you highway numbers (like 1). So, I ask you, how are we to know which lane to be in?? We chose a lane that takes you over the bridge, as we knew we needed the bridge (we knew that much at least), but at the last minute the silly lane forked, one to the bridge, one to the tunnel, and we ended up in the tunnel. We did then find some of the roads listed later in the instructions, but didn’t realise we were now coming at them from the other direction, so turned left when it should have been right, and ended up having to pretty much tour the whole city. An hour later, we found the road that Pancakes is on. Or so we thought…. After we parked, closer inspection of the street sign revealed that some hooligan had turned the sign so it was pointing at the road we were on, but should have been pointing to the road next to it. No big deal, we’ll just walk. That’s all fine and dandy usually, but it turned out to be quite a long walk, and I really really had to pee. We had to stop at a very posh hotel on a pier and ask for directions, as well as to use the bathroom. Luckily they humoured us (probably because a young guy was on the desk, and guys always take quite a shining to The Jess). Finally, an hour and a half after leaving the house, we got to Pancakes (this should normally take under half an hour). By that time, I wanted a real meal and not just something sweet (what is wrong with me?!?!), so after all that, I ordered a savory crepe, and The Jess got the nice black forest pancake (but I stole some of it). After sitting at the table for a while, another waitress came and insisted we move to a booth as it would be more comfortable, and then had a go at the other waitress for putting a heavily pregnant woman at the table with the hard chairs. I have to say, I did appreciate the booth. I like booths anyway, but at the moment, they are even better!

Ok, last paragraph, I promise. I read that babies tear ducts work in the womb, but can’t yet function outside the womb. I think that is probably a good thing. Seeing your tiny little bundle crying will be hard enough, but imagine if it also had all those tiny little tears coming out as well. It will be a shock to see tears for the first time though. I just can’t wait for Mushi to come out!! Come on Mushi, we want to meet you. Hopefully by next weeks blog we will have a little Mushi to write about (although then it won’t be Mushi anymore, it will have a boys or girls name…).