Mama PlaygroundA Blog for Moms

The only thing that keeps you moving forward through the vaccinations is the belief that it is all for the good of the baby. You watch while some stranger with a robotic lack of sensitivity to the feeling of your child injects needles in to a sweet and plump little thigh. Sometimes you are even recruited to hold the baby’s arms down! Eck. It makes me want to vomit to be part of it.

Our entire generation of new parents has a looming shadow of doubt cast over the wisdom and security of the vaccinations. We are not longer sure that we are doing the right thing by allowing the mysterious chemicals to be forced in to our babies’ blood streams. With that sense of “doing the right thing” taken away the shots at the doctor’s office becomes an unbearably painful thing for us parents. We don’t even know if the pain is for the child’s own good, or if our child will become a part of the new autism statistics.

For her one year shots I took my daughter to the doctor and decided to go ahead with the shots. We also allowed Hep B shots, which we did not allow at her birth or anytime shortly thereafter. We decided it was ok to catch up now because she is visiting more public places and I have paranoid visions of her touching some needle somewhere on accident. Anyways, it made me miserable to give her the shots, but she is older and stronger now and I had faith that I was doing the right thing. Wrong.

That night as she got fussy, I figured that fussiness was shortlived and it would go away. She tripped and fell that evening without really putting her arms out in front of her like usual though, and ended up bumping her head on the concrete. Ok, now flags are starting to go up. She showed no signs of concussion though, and didn’t even cry for very long. I chased her around with an ice pack for her forehead and watched for changes in pupil dilation or any signs of injury. She ate dinner and got ready for bed at the usual time.

Flash forward 24 hours. She is mostly normal, well mostly. That next night though, she had a terrible night sleep. It was fitful and interupted, compared to her normal sleeping through the night routine. When she woke up she was fussy, and tired but we thought it was because of her poor night’s sleep. It got worse though. She became so lethargic that it was difficult to watch. She wouldn’t nap like normal but she wandered around the house with sick eyes looking dazed and resting her head on everything. She rested on the ground, my lap, the foot stool. She lost her appetite and wouldn’t drink. A fever was evident now. It got up to 101.5 but the doctor wasn’t calling us back.

Another terrible, terrible night of trying to keep her temperature down with tylenol and every cooling technique the internet could provide. She was miserable though. This is how every parent’s story about their now-autistic child begins. I have to wait in fear to find out how our story ends.

Oh, the spectacle of it all. You would think we were conquering a planet or at the very least traveling across the country. Nope. We need an oil change. This requires days of advanced planning, an early rise, and multiple hours of preparation. Eating, diapers, naps, wardrobe changes all need to be planned out for three kids under two.  I return from said “quick” errand completely exhausted and ready for my husband to come home from work. Oh, it is only 10:30 am. Someboy needs to get the memo to my kiddos that pre-dawn wake up is not working for mama. I feel like a lifetime has occurred by noon.

Ahh the blessed day of complete relaxation and appreciation for the slavish ways of mothers. What better way to kick it off that three kids under two up by dawn? Good morning breastmilk please, attention, diapers, more diapers, hungry, thirsty, toy, etc. And yet, it was perfect! I nursed the twins one at a time, playing and tickling in bed. My toddler began running around and I smugly allowed her some educational (ish) television while I awaited the natural boost of energy that comes as the sun wakes up to share its glorious rays. It is a bit ironic though to kick of mother’s day with the opposite of a day off, and yet to completely love it.
So three cheers to you mamas out there! I feel such a kinship with you. You know the tidal wave of love, vulnerability, and wisdom that washes over after you have entered this world of selflessness. It just can’t be explained, but I can recognize it in a glance. And if I wasn’t juggling tiny squirmy humans, covered in some mysterious fluid-like spots on my clothing, I would take the time out to buy you a latte. You deserve it. So happy mother’s day to you too!

Oh the joy! The mysterious new pain in my lady parts is apparently my pubic bone being pulled apart (according to self diagnosis thanks to the internet). Basically the ligament that holds the two halves of your pubic bone together in the front starts to lose its grip. The hormone relaxin kicks in to encourage the ligaments to loosen and allow space to be made for passage of the baby. Ouch. Due to the fact that my last baby was breech, the exerience of smuggling a cranium in my underoos is quite novel to me. Good times.

Possibly dumb question about cervix length in relation to estimated arrival date: what is it? My cervix was measured by ultrasound today to be 4.2cm. That is very long. In one way I am glad that the plug is still in the bathtub. On the other hand, I wasn’t quite prepared to hear that these babies actually intend to stay until 40 weeks. AHHHHHHHH! Selfish of me? Possibly. Good news though, both are head down, Baby A’s head is fully engaged in my pelvis, and they are big (4lb15oz, 5lb 4oz). I don’t know why they call the head engaging lightening. Possibly for the shooting pains you get every time you sneeze or stand up too quickly when an child’s entire head is wedged in your lady parts?

Considerations: higher protein, higher calcium. During the eighth month the babies brain growth is the most rapid it will be in his/her entire life. So I am taking the time to beef up on the protein. Protein provides the building blocks for brain development and the babies can’t possibly ever make up for the lost opportunity in the 8th month to develop those little neurons. While I am at it though, I thought I should add some Omega-3s for myelin, calcium for bone density…the pressure! I am an eating machine lately and I will never know if I did any good!

I am pretty sure I deserve  a metal.  I don’t know who exactly is handing them out but make sure to let them know how to reach me. 32 weeks and going (strong?). Well, going. I think I have hit a wall. I am sooo flipping tired I can not explain it. It is different from one day to the next, but somebody might be giving me an IV of tar and piss in my sleep. I can usually tell by 8am how things are going to go for the day. Either slug body with grump attitude or zesty “what twins?” bounce in my step. It would be great if all days were the latter. Can’t control it AT ALL, but it would be great. So what if I look like I am going to tip forward if I don’t focus on my balance. I can make two human beings from scratch and hold a conversation at the same time!

Today I was dragging. Seriously dragging despite my best efforts. It is now 9 pm and my pride is the only that has kept me awake since first wanting to hit the sack at 6:45 tonight. I have no idea what the twins are working on, but it is apparently important. They are consuming all of the energy my body can muster past my most basic bodily functions.

Survival rates of babies at this stage of gestation are excellent. In addition twins are more “stressed” in utero and tend to be stronger because of it. They have made it sooo far! I don’t want to wish them out, and I don’t want to wish this pregnancy to be over, but from here on out it is a living testament of love. Whatever days and/or weeks I make it past this point are pure endurance contest for their sake.

Come on! A little tiny warmth through your body has got to be good for you all. It is a vasodialator, so wouldn’t it actually be good for oxygen flow to the baby? I read a Yahoo post which cracked me up (looking for medical or other important advice on there usually does give you a good belly laugh with all of the anti-wisdom being smeared online), and somebody said that it was exactly like pouring a glass of wine in to a baby’s bottle. HAHAHAHA! So funny. There are many things wrong about this, but why not take the time to really break it down.

When the wine enters mama’s mouth it is partially broken down by the saliva in the mouth, and then more fully by digestive enzymes and the low pH of the stomach. Then the entire digestive system, including the all important liver, break it down and use the wine further. The very small amount that gets in to the blood stream (only if you have more to drink in an hour than your body can filter) then it goes through the blood stream to the placenta. There it is further selectively filtered and the minute amounts that get in to the umbilical cord go directly to circulation of the baby. The baby’s poor little liver is not as strong and hearty as an adults, so they will filter but not very efficiently.

Anyways, I have never had anything to drink through any part of my pregnancies. But is it sooo wrong? It is not like putting wine in a baby bottle! Midwives used to recommend it for stopping premature labor because it relaxes the muscles.

I have no other way to describe the sensation of fetal movement in the 7th month of a twin pregnancy than then cat in a bag. Make that two wiley cats in a small pillowcase…trying to escape…every time I eat, drink, or bend over. I used to have a bit of caffeine here and there. But it seems I pay the price too greatly now. Same goes for spicey foods. Hardy, full, boisterous kicks to rib cage really tones down the appetite and zest for a meal or a conversation. My husband thought I was going to puke on him while we were out to dinner. No, no, that is the look of someone who just took an unexpected punch to the gut as punishment for the Spicy Cajun Shrimp appetizer. On second thought, maybe it was worth it.

Looking from above I sometimes like to watch my stomach move. Half of the time it is funny. I make the famous sounds from the Jaws movie “dun-nun, dun-nun” and onlookers can watch what appears to be circling fins poke out of my stomach. Actually it is probably one baby’s knee and the other’s elbow as they roll around trying to get comfortable. But my smile drops quickly with certain movements, and what could only be described as claws dragging the inside of my guts. Sigh. 7 weeks to go!

Not recommended!  Adding lethargy and backaches to fatigue and exposure to cleaning chemicals, new paint, and new carpet creates a volatile reaction. Then for fun throw in to the mix a toddler who most certainly will find the one uncovered electrical outlet and see if you can go 5 straight minutes without breaking a sweat.

Alas I have neglected my poor blog. But I am back! More pregnant, and more lethargic than ever – but wiser for the wear. Somehow in my mind it was supposed to be much more of a romantic comedy effect during the move. I would waddle about trying to help but others would make sure I was not carrying the lower end of a piano as it went downstairs. I couldn’t exactly sip tea with a little umbrella and ice in it, feet up and enjoying the breeze either. Unfortunately on that scale of things I was a little closer to the business end of a figurative piano than I would have liked. Somewhat my fault because I CAN’T STAND to sit by and watch others work without doing anything. But at some point (after 12 hours straight of physical work) I should have been stopped from painting the baseboards on hands and knees at midnight on a Friday. Unfortunately it had to get done somehow.

Three tips for those of you considering a move while you are heavy and burdened with the child (or children) strapped to your abdominal cavity: hire movers (yes, yes I hear you about the cost but there is no dollar amount that can be placed on your sciatic nerve), start super early because you never know when you will hit that unpredictable preggo “wall” of exhaustion inconveniently, and accept help from friends and family. Good luck!