This is why I changed my shirt before I left for work

I was wearing what I thought was a fairly cute short-sleeve sweater with an empire-waist cut.

Until Z piped up with, "Mommy, I think there's another baby in your tummy going come out."

So I ask Josh, "Does this top make me look pregnant?"

"Um, I wasn't going to say anything, but..."

That's all I needed to hear. I handed him Baby A and headed upstairs for a wardrobe change. Because I am not pregnant. But she is and she wants to be.

Push presents? Oh, puh-lease!

The most e-mailed story on the NY Times website is A Bundle of Joy Isn't Enough, an article on the growing popularity of so-called push presents, sparkly baubles given by the father to the mother who has just birthed their baby.

Now I love presents as much as the next gal, but I never felt like Josh owed me a gift for delivering either of my babies. Whether I was cut open for a c-section or panting through 25 hours of drug-free VBAC labor, meeting my beautiful girls was reward enough.

Perhaps I would feel differently if Josh had to twist my arm to get me to want to have babies, but like 99 percent of the moms I know, I did the "honey, let's get pregnant" cajoling, and he finally acquiesced.

Have a baby, take the summer off

WSJ's The Juggle blog asks if parents planned their pregnancies so they could have a spring or summer baby and take their maternity leave when it's nice outside.

In a word, yes. I didn't plan ahead with baby #1. She was a planned pregnancy, but it was more like yes, we're ready to get pregnant. We didn't think about when that baby might be born. So Z was born in November, which I learned from the folks at Prentice Women's Hospital (aka Chicagoland's Baby Factory) is their slowest month for deliveries. I guess couples aren't all that swept away by the romance of Valentine's Day.

My first maternity leave took place during Chicago's coldest months, so save for a trip to Hawaii, we spent it largely indoors, cuddling on the couch and watching DVD marathons of The OC and the Gilmore Girls.

Knowing that I'd have a toddler to entertain while I cared for a newborn, I decided maternity leave #2 would need to take place in the playground months. We aimed for May and scored a July baby.

And it turned out even better than I hoped. We've put lots of miles on our double stroller, we're regulars at our favorite parks, and I got to be around for Z's transition to preschool. We never felt cooped up at home and I didn't have to resort to videos to keep Z out of trouble as I nursed, burped and wiped my way through the last three months.

I return to work in a week!

Who me, late?

Fashionably late is not my style. I'm not a procrastinator. I never put off to the last minute what I can accomplish far ahead of schedule. I don't miss deadlines, planes or the best food at a cocktail party. I only pulled one all-nighter in my collegiate life, and it was because I didn't feel like knew the material well enough--not because I hadn't read the book yet.

So sitting around pregnant two days after my official due date is torture. Not because I'm big and swollen and I can't roll out of bed without assistance. Because I feel like I'm letting everyone down. It feels like by not having this baby "on time" or early, I'm missing some important deadline. I've come to dread hearing the phone ring because I know the first words out of Josh's mouth are going to be, "No, not yet." Like somehow we went ahead and had the baby and forgot to let anyone know!

Well I've got news for you folks: I'm not officially post-due until two weeks after my due date. The question is whether my midwives will let me go that long before inducing or scheduling a repeat c-section.

Rockin' my due date

Yesterday came and went without the arrival of number two, but it wasn't for lack of effort. I decided there could be no less convenient place to go into labor than a rock show, so I packed Z into our new stroller and took the El to meet Josh at the Pitchfork Music Festival in Union Park.

Pelvic pain had me waddling around like a caricature of a heavily pregnant woman, but I was lucky enough to get to stay in the VIP area, which offered room to spread out our blanket and free Chipotle and ice cream to eat. What it didn't technically offer is flush toilets, and Z refused to "go potty on the poo-poo" in a port-a-potty. Fortunately Josh's connections won us an escorted trip into the Field House where artists could enjoy the luxury of modern facilities.

On the way home, I hoped that one of the other riders might help me carry the stroller down the steep train station steps while I helped Z down. But the only person who paid us any mind was a certifiably crazy old lady who berated me for not asking her for help. She started yelling something about how I wouldn't ask her because she was Black, but little did I know she's "married to a white doctor" and her name is "Laura Bush."

Anyway, I thought all the stress and exertion might have paid off when I started having contractions around 2am last night. But it was false labor that went away after I'd walked around, used the bathroom and had a snack. But maybe today will be the day; I'm feeling pretty crampy and sore this morning.

I'm still here

I visited the midwives again this morning. I'm one more centimeter dilated and my cervix is pretty thin, but Julie refused to guess when this baby might arrive. She gave me a worksheet full of natural tricks for inducing labor but warned me that none of them will work unless the baby is ready to go. Still, we stopped at Whole Foods to pick up some Evening Primrose Oil and Red Raspberry Leaf tea.

I'm not going to get impatient until my due date (July 14) passes. Until then, I'll just keep busy with household projects and get back into the kitchen again. I'm a little rusty behind the stove since Josh took over cooking duty a year ago.

I take some consolation in knowing I'm not alone. The author of the VBAC Adventure blog is four days overdue and going a little crazy.

Not our one and only for long

Dear Z,

You're going to be a big sister soon. You know that, at least on some level. But do you know how much your baby sister is going to rock your world? I know you'll love hugging and kissing her, helping with the baths and the diapers and examining all her tiny little features. You'll want to show her off to your friends and ride together in our new double stroller.

What you won't want to do is share Mommy. I see the green flash in your eyes when I've got another child in my arms or on my lap. You've started pretending to be a baby and you even asked yesterday, "Is it okay if I say I don't want a baby sister?"

You're going to get extra special Daddy time (over and above what he already dedicates to you), and I fear you're not going to relish it. Instead, I worry my heart will be wrenched in two. I'll have your younger sister attached to the boob while you scream "Mommy do it!" as Daddy or Nanny run the bath/cut your food/take you to the park.

But you'll adjust, and it will ultimately be good for you. Having a sibling is a lifelong exercise in learning to share. Take it one big sister to another: your little sister will steal Mommy's attention. She'll steal your toys. Your diary. And your friends. Sometimes she'll be your worst enemy. But more often she'll be your best friend. Your built-in playmate. Someone who admires you (but will never admit it).

So remember to think of all that stealing as sharing. Because chances are you'll be sharing your lives together long after your parents leave the picture.

Yes, I'm still pregnant

I'm afraid to pick up the phone and call anyone for fear they'll assume I've given birth. Yes, I know I'm disappointing friends and family by not going into labor, but this time baby's coming on her own schedule.

Are you ready to pop?

If you're asking whether I'm ready to have this baby, the answer is yes. Particularly now. Three months ago? Not so much.

Besides, laboring women don't pop out their babies. Even a lightning fast c-section requires some serious preparation and equipment. My stomach might be big, but there's a baby, fluid and a whole lot of gunky stuff in there. I don't want it to pop. Unless, of course, that means my stomach would instantly deflate.

There are dozens of annoying questions people ask us when we're pregnant or pushing around a new baby.

"Is the nursery set up?" No.
"Does Z know what's going on?" Yes.
"Is she sleeping through the night?" What matters is whether I'm sleeping through the night. "Don't you just love being a mommy?" If I didn't, do you think I'd tell you?

It's enough to make you wish you could just hand them this.
This entry is part of a Parent Bloggers Network's Blog Blast. Hear what other moms had to say by clicking here.

Maternity leave

Today is my last day in the office for at least three months, maybe four. I had planned to work through Friday, but with labor seeming somewhat imminent, I think it's prudent to wrap things up and head home to stock up on sleep. Besides, it seems I've lost my mind and my productivity has taken a nose dive. Maybe that's my brain pressing down on my pelvis?

I'm really looking forward to this maternity leave. I feel like the timing couldn't be better. I'll get to enjoy my two children and all that Oak Park and the greater Chicago area have to offer in the summertime, and I'll be around for Z's transition into preschool this September. But best of all, I'll get to enjoy the company of two other working moms whose maternity leaves coincide with mine! It's a far cry from my first maternity leave. Z was born just as winter settled in. The neighbors were inside, the parks were empty, and until I attended a new moms group at Parenthesis, I didn't know any other women in my position.

I feel lucky that we can swing a couple of months of unpaid leave. Plenty of women head back to work shortly after giving birth because they can't afford not to. As I've mentioned on this blog before, I hope paid family leave becomes an issue in the upcoming election. As it stands, the U.S. is one of only five countries out of 173 in a McGill University survey that does not guarantee some form of paid maternity leave. The others are Lesotho, Liberia, Swaziland and Papua New Guinea.

Tick-tock, tick-tock

My midwife predicted I'll be having this baby within the next week. Hurray!

External Cephalic Version: It worked!

After trying everything under the sun to get my second breech baby to turn head down, I went to the hospital this morning for an ECV. A lot of people aren't familiar with this procedure, so I thought I'd relate my experience for family, friends and all the pregnant women out there who are researching their options.

My midwife advised me to spend the weekend and Monday drinking lots of water so that I would have plenty of amniotic fluid, which I did. I had my last meal and drink before bed last night on the off-chance baby wouldn't tolerate the procedure and I would need to have an emergency C-section.

At 8am, I checked into the labor and delivery ward at West Suburban Hospital. There, I was told to get naked under a hospital gown and pee in a cup. The nurses attached me to fetal and maternal monitors, took my temperature and blood pressure and drew some blood. I was also hooked up to an IV. After about an hour, the staff determined baby was happy and healthy and I was having a few mild contractions.

Dr. Tong ordered a shot of a uterine relaxant, which made my heart race (and undid the relaxed state I'd managed to get into by listening to my Hypnobirthing script), but Josh helpfully massaged me back to a calm state. Fifteen minutes later, Dr. Tong took a look at baby's position on an ultrasound. He predicted turning baby toward my right side would be most successful and they got started. Dr. Tong's hands did most of the pushing, pulling and prodding, with some assistance from Hillary, my midwife. Or so I'm guessing. I was focusing on relaxing my belly and breathing through the discomfort, which wasn't unbearable by any means--more like a really rough massage.

After every quarter turn, Dr. Tong would pause to check the head's position on the ultrasound and the baby's heart rate with the heart rate monitor. After a few checks, it became clear to all of us that this was really going to work. I opened my eyes and grinned at Josh through the last few motions.

Hillary and one of the nurses put on an abdominal binder (a post-natal support belt I'd purchased at Babies R Us) to help keep baby down, and Josh and I stuck around for an additional hour of monitoring.

As we were leaving, a nursing assistant said to me, "So, did baby turn?" I answered yes and she replied with, "Really? I've never seen one work before."

So that's it! We're keeping our fingers crossed that baby stays vertex and we're able to have the VBAC we've been hoping for.

Please excuse me

I received a jury summons from the Circuit Court of Cook County yesterday. They would like me to show up at the Daley Center on July 13 at 9:30am. That's one day before my due date.

Last time I received a summons I ended up finding a man guilty of murder for killing his neighbor over a $20 drug deal gone bad.

This time I asked my midwife to write me an excuse note.

Sheer exhaustion

Traveling to a loved one's funeral on one day's notice is hard enough. But doing it 36 weeks pregnant in 90 degree weather with a newly potty-trained, non-napping toddler in tow...now that's a recipe for exhaustion. Add in a 3 hour flight delay, wickedly swollen feet and sleeping on an air mattress one night and a couch the next, and you'll understand why I went to bed last night shortly after putting a tearful, overtired Z down at 7:30.

In spite of my grief, it was wonderful seeing my family come together to celebrate Grandma Lorraine's remarkable life. She was the magnet that has keep us connected all these years, and I hope her absence won't mean seeing a lot less of my aunt, uncle and cousins.

And speaking of cousins, Z couldn't get enough of her 8-year-old second cousin Lindsay. She shadowed her every move, picking up good things (like dressing herself and letting me put her hair up) and bad (Bratz dolls).

Gifts for new parents

My sister finally updated her blog and reiterated what most new mothers know: the best baby visitors come armed with food. But there are other nice things we can do for bewildered and sleep-deprived moms and dads: just check out the comments section of this Ask Moxie post.

Personally, I'm not the most creative gift-giver. But I am practical. Most of my friends have received a bag of newborn diapers, a hot meal or two and toy or activity to occupy the older sibling. Hospital visits warrant a plant or footie pajamas.

But the Ask Moxie suggestions have me feeling more inspired. Why not replace that mac and cheese casserole with a variety of sandwich fixings or a fruit salad? What parent wouldn't love it if you'd run to the grocery store and pick up a week's worth of necessities? We were thrilled to shop the farmers market for our friends Deb and Andy when their daughter arrived last August.

So what do I wish for come next month? Delivery of healthy, wholesome munchies that are quick to prep: good breads and cheeses, fresh fruit and juices. An outing or focused playtime for my toddler. A pair of arms to hold my newborn while I get stuff done around the house. A friend to accompany us on those first big outings: to Scoville Park to see a concert, to the Brookfield Zoo, to the pool. And diapers. You can't have too many diapers.

34 weeks pregnant

I haven't posted a belly shot for awhile, so feast your eyes on my hugeness!

Baby names

No, I'm not telling. In fact, Josh and I aren't 100 percent decided anyway. So don't ask.

Instead, head over to Nymbler, a new baby name website that lets you type in your top choice or choices and receive a list of alternate names you might like just as much. It's at least as much fun as looking up name popularity trends on Baby Name Voyager.

Countdown to number two

Someone at Rookie Moms is reading my mind. Today's post, Prepping for Baby #2, lists the must and nice-to-haves on hand before the arrival of a second child. Here's her list, with my comments in italics.

• Car seat: cleaned and installed (Due Date - 4 weeks) Check! We'll just need to pull it out of storage and strap it into the car.
  
• Breast pump: parts and bottles cleaned, pump assembled, tubing replaced. I've got to order some new valves and tubes for my trusty Ameda Purely Yours. Plus, I'll probably want to get new parts for the Medela PIS a friend is loaning me so that I don't have to tote the Ameda pump back and forth to work every day.
• Baby clothes: cleaned and installed (DD - 4 weeks); I liked knowing that all the mini clothes were in their proper size designations so I could see if there were any gaps in coverage. We've got the holes plugged, thanks to a generous bag of hand-me-downs. Now I just need to wash 'em...Oh, and buy a dresser to put them in!
  
• Newborn diapers: (DD - 3 weeks); [This] was something else that I felt like I really needed in order to be prepared. I asked Josh to pick up some newborn diapers at Target using the Huggies coupon from the Sunday paper, but I don't think he feels any urgency whatsoever.
  
• Stroller for two: purchased and on hand (DD - 2 weeks); I would now hold out as long as is humanly possible. A pregnant woman cannot possibly evaluate a stroller properly, largely because she can’t fold and lift it well. Now I completely agree with Rookie Moms' advice here. I'm going to borrow an aging Graco Duoglider and shop for a double stroller when I'm up and about and looking for an outing (something tells me we'll be running to Target and/or BRU once or twice in those early months).

Me again. My other must-have is a bassinet or bassinet-equipped pack-and-play so that #2 can sleep in our room for a while and/or nap downstairs where I can keep an eye on her. Nice-to-haves include a new, lightweight sling, Avent bottle nipples, pacifiers, Infant Tylenol, diaper rash cream and more burp cloths.

Come on baby, let's do the flip

In the past week and a half, I've held frozen peas to my belly, shined a flashlight on my pelvis, laid on the bed with three pillows under my butt and watched TV perched on a stability ball. I visited a chiropractor. I closed my eyes and visualized a tiny backflipping baby diving down toward my pelvis. I've drunk glass after glass after glass of water.

And every few hours I touch my belly, hoping not to feel the telltale bump that is baby's head. It moves from the left side to the right side, and sometimes it's just over my belly button. But it's never where I want it: head down. It sounds crazy, but I just want a kick in the ribs... instead of a push to the bladder.

Yup, my baby's breech. At 31 weeks. Intellectually, I know I still have time. But because my first kid never turned vertex, I'm freaking out a little bit. With Z, I tried everything to get her to turn. Handstands in warm water. Hypnosis. A touch of moxibustion (which we quit doing because it made the house reek of pot). I even signed up for an external version at 37 weeks, and trust me when I tell you that was no picnic!

Because she was breech, Z was delivered via a scheduled c-section at 39 weeks. I never experienced labor. I was rolled into an overly bright, freezing OR at Northwestern Memorial Hospital at 3:20pm and I heard my daughter cry out at 3:44. I didn't have the natural birth I'd hoped for, but I got a healthy, beautiful baby who's been the light of my life. My recovery was quicker than expected, and aside from some side effects form the anesthesia, it wasn't a bad experience altogether.

But I figured I'd paid my dues. I did the ultimate-intervention birth and now it was my turn to have a minimal-intervention birth. For a variety of reasons, location being a big one, I switched to West Suburban Midwives in Oak Park and planned a delivery at West Suburban Medical Center's Alternative Birthing Center (aka the ABC). I found a doula-in-training to give me confidence. I've been taking a prenatal yoga class and I even remember to do kegels once in a while.

I want a VBAC so badly, but I feel selfish and whiny for caring so much about how my second daughter enters the world. My sister just gave birth on Mother's Day, making her the first woman in two generations to deliver the old-fashioned way. I want what she had, and what so many of my friends have experienced. I want to nod along knowingly when women talk about labor and pain and childbirth.

Hell, I want this baby to flip over before I flip out. Because obsessing is not productive. And frankly, it's not my style.

-----------------

Cross-posted at Chicago Moms Blog, where you can read the rants of raves of plenty of other mothers.

T-minus 11 weeks and counting

Josh and I attended the Alternative Birthing Center orientation at West Suburban Medical Center this afternoon, and I've got to give the place props. I don't much care for the crosses in every room, but the ABC birthing rooms are fabulous! They're the size of an Embassy Suites suite and feature a real queen-sized bed, a huge birthing tub, a bathroom with shower, a warming isolette and a wooden bassinet, a refrigerator and microwave, a birthing ball, a birthing stool and a rocking chair. And unlike every other hospital in the area, you're encouraged to bring and eat your favorite foods (you aren't limited to ice chips) and you can videotape the birth, if desired.

All this is yours, provided you make it to 37 weeks and don't require any medical interventions. Need pitocin to start your labor? Off to the regular L&D rooms. Decide you can't live without an epidural? You're outta there!

From what I've heard from friends who've delivered in the ABC, the postpartum experience at West Sub doesn't measure up. They move you out of the ABC about 6 hours after the birth, and the hospital food's mediocre, the staff isn't terribly attentive, and the intercoms blare pages all day and night.