I did it!

I finally went to my first Ashtanga class! After months of procrastination, I finally made it. It was my first time at Seventh Street Yoga and the studio was gorgeous. I'll definitely be back. I got to practice next to my friend Liz P. Her asana practice is truly an inspiration. Her breath is so smooth and steady she must have an internal metronome. I am in awe at what that woman can do with her body. Even more so, I am in awe of her dedication. She's worked hard for that practice.

So how was it? Not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. It was the first time that I've practiced the entire primary series in over a year. Breath and bhandas? Forget about it. Vinyasas? Hardly. By the end I was crawling around on my belly like a worm. But I showed up and stuck it out. The hard part is over. I overcame my fear of stepping into that first class.

While I was in class, Nana and Papa took Sweet Pea to Huts and then to Whole Foods. By the time I was done with class, my arms were so tired I could hardly pick her up. I'm going to be hurting tomorrow.

Party Picture

Here is a picture from the birthday party we went to last week. That's me, Sweet Pea and my Dad, aka Papa.

Today we had breakfast with Ravyn at Whole Foods. She has the cutest little pregnant belly. It takes everything I have not to rub it every time I see her. She is incredibly adorable. I can't wait to see what she looks like in 10 weeks.

Liz B. could go into labor at any moment. This is more suspenseful that Lost. I'm checking her blog constantly to see if anything is happening. I'm pulling for you, Liz! I know that you will have a beautiful, yogic birth because it is yours. Whatever birth you have will be perfect for you and little Hercules. I can't wait to read all about it.

I'm lovin' this baby boom! Sweet Pea is going to have lots of little friends to play with.

Yay Skwish!

On Saturday, Sweet Pea and I went to our monthly playgroup with the mommies from our Bradley Class. One of the other babies had this toy and Sweet Pea fell in love with it. She kept trying to take it from the other babies if they managed to get it away from her. She was fixated. So, of course, when I told Nana about it she immediately went out and bought one. It is, hands down, Sweet Pea's favorite toy ever. We highly recommend it.

In case you are wondering, that's enchilada sauce from Mama's lunch on her foot.

Am I in Labor?

I've been thinking a lot about labor lately since Liz has been talking about it in her blog. The big question is when will she know she's going into labor. Someone left a comment on her most recent post that said that she will know when it is the calm before the storm.

Now, I consider myself to be an intuitive person. Yoga has made me aware of any changes going on within my body. I felt Sweet Pea move weeks before most primigravidas do. I am generally an exceptionally sensitive person. However, to this day I can't tell you exactly when I went into labor. I don't feel like I was not in labor one moment and in labor the next. I think it would be more accurate to talk about labor as something that happened in the final week of my pregnancy, not final day. That epiphany, that instant realization, that "Ah, it is finally happening" moment never came. I never felt like, OK, the clock starts now. NOW I am officially in labor.

When I hear women tell stories about how long they were in labor I want to ask, how did you know? When you say you were in labor for 50 hours, what stages of labor are you including? Are you including early first stage labor? How long were you in active labor? How long were you in second stage labor?

I had a lot of practice labor, contractions getting increasingly stronger and more frequent in the last week of pregnancy, but on the afternoon of Saturday, April 14 the contractions changed. They became a lot more intense and for the first time painful rather than just uncomfortable. I started to time them with the contraction master. I'd feel the contractions mostly in my lower back. Sometimes I'd have them every ten to fifteen minutes for several hours and sometimes I'd go an hour without having one. I called Sweet Pea's father to tell him that something might be happening, but he wasn't answering his phone. That night I was able to sleep, but I'd wake up every hour or so with a painful contraction.

Sunday, April 15 was a lot of the same. Contractions no less frequently than every half hour but sometimes as often as every five minutes. The midwives had told me not to come in until I was having contractions lasting at least a minute every five minutes for at least an hour. There were several times on Sunday that I almost made that criteria, but then my contractions would slow down for an hour or two. My baby daddy finally called and I told him he might want to come over because I thought something was happening sooner rather than later. We went out for Mexican food at the the closest Mexican Food restaurant because I felt like it might be my last pre-mommy dinner. We had the most incompetent, stoner waiter ever and I wanted to scream, just bring me my queso - I'm in labor over here! The contractions were making me nauseated so we ate outside because I couldn't stand the way the restaurant smelled. I would eat a few bites, then lean forward for a contraction. Eat a few more bites, then have another contraction. I'm sure the people at the restaurant probably thought I was a crazy woman. Unless they were with it, in which case, it was probably pretty obvious that I was in labor.

Sunday night I didn't sleep because my contractions were never any slower than every 30 minutes and were often a lot more frequent. At one point they were more frequent than every five minutes, but then they'd slow down again. I think that most reasonable women would have called their midwife or OB by this point, but I was committed to laboring at home as long as possible. I knew that many c-sections occur because of failure to progress so I wanted to show up at the birthing center as late as possible to avoid this diagnosis.

Monday morning, April 16, I was already pretty tired. I'd slept fitfully on Saturday night and not at all on Sunday night. Monday morning and early afternoon was the same as Saturday and Sunday, with the contractions getting stronger and I was experiencing more back pain. By Monday afternoon the back pain was getting so intense that I was having some trouble standing up. It was when I had to call Baby Daddy to ask for help out of the bathtub that he said that he wanted me to go to the birthing center. I said it wasn't time yet, but if he wanted he could call them. He called, told them what was going on and they said they wanted me to come in right away.

I was already so tired I was hoping that they would tell me that I could go home and come back the next day so I could try to get some sleep. The midwife, Jean, examined me and determined that I was dilated to 6 centimeters. As she was examining me she was saying, "Oh wow, your cervix feels terrific. It's really soft. I bet your water is going to break while I'm examining you." As she said it I felt a gush of liquid. She gave me a pad for the fluid and sent me out to the parking lot to walk around to try to get my contractions regular. "You'll be having this baby by midnight," she said.

That, of course, did not happen. I would like to write my birth story again now that some time has passed and I've been able to process the situation from a little bit of distance. I've spoken with the midwives about Sweet Pea's birth, have done more reading and now have a bit more clarity than I did before. I have a different perspective now.

But I was just going to respond to the comment that you'll know when it's going to happen. I've always had trouble limiting the scope of my writing. Bottom line, I didn't see it coming and I didn't ever know for sure it was happening. If I were to do it again, maybe I'd know or maybe I wouldn't. No wisdom here. I'm just throwing spaghetti against the wall.

Indoor Trekking

Yesterday, Sweet Pea and I met Lissa and her three-month-old baby boy, Cashew at the hike and bike trail for some post-baby blubber burning. (Yes, I use pseudonyms for all babies) We went early and did the 4-mile loop, but since we walked fairly slowly by the end we were dripping with sweat. In case anyone reads this blog who does not live in Texas, it is still sweltering here. We decided that until the weather improves that we are going take our walking indoors. That's right. We are going to walk at the mall. In an e-mail, Lissa wrote, "We'll have to come up with another name for it, 'cause that just conjures up images of geriatric women in sweatpants... not pretty and not us."

So, I was thinking Indoor Trekking? Controlled environment walking? Climate-controlled training?

The Spaghetti Method

I remember in my Bradley Class the teacher asked what type of parenting style we were planning on adopting. I said attachment parenting - a method I am still a big advocate for. Attachment parenting just works for us. I'm all about co-sleeping and baby wearing. Our attachment keeps her happy and just seems so much easier for me than anything else I've read about. During the day she takes naps when she is tired. At night she lets me know with a little back arching and fussing that she's ready for bed (usually around 7 p.m.) and she sleeps until 6 in the morning.

One of the major reasons why I'm glad that I was able to have Sweet Pea in the birthing center is that I've never been separated from her. Since we started our relationship with her on my chest, it was easy to continue our relationship that way. I believe that it is because of this continuous attachment that I trust my intuition to tell me what she wants and how she is feeling. Since my parenting is intuition based, sometimes it's hard to elucidate why I've made particular parenting decisions. For example, my mother keeps asking me when I'm going to start solids. I keep telling her that we'll start solids when the Pea is ready.

Since I feel confident in my ability to parent based on intuition, I tend to experiment a lot. For me, parenting is like throwing spaghetti on a wall to see what sticks. I'll try something out and if it works I'll keep doing it. If not, I'll try something else.

So, if any of you new mommies out there are having any anxiety about your abilities to parent an infant, don't sweat it. Just use your intuition and your library card and everything will fall into place.

In postnatal yoga today, Jessica G gave us a mantra for class: I am the perfect mother for my baby, and my baby is perfect for me. In one of my yogic disciplines we are taught that the soul chooses its mother based on what it needs to learn in this lifetime. I remind myself of this anytime I find myself having anxieties about my abilities as a parent. I know that if I am quiet enough and still enough to listen, she will tell me what she needs.

peek-a-boo

Sweet Pea loves to play peek-a-boo. I put her on my bed on her belly and quickly duck behind the mattress. Then I pop back up and make a funny noise or face! She laughs and laughs like it's the most hilarious thing ever.

And while I am on the subject of cuteness, I bought her halloween costume this weekend. I feel just a tiny bit guilty for not making a costume, but I don't sew, so that just isn't going to happen. Probably not ever. As soon as I brought it home I had to immediately put it on her. It was a hundred times cuter than I imagined it would be. I wanted to call everyone I knew to tell them how cute it is. I'm not posting any pictures until halloween, but I can't freakin wait. She looks so cute in it I should warn people so they don't go into cute overload.

No more fancy pants

Sweet Pea has been exposed to a little culture the last couple of days. Last night we went to a birthday party for a friend of my dad. Papa wanted to show off his grand baby so the two of us got to tag along. For the party, they rented out Copa and Eliza Gilkyson played. I'd never seen her before so that was fun. It was Sweet Pea's first show. She seemed to enjoy it. Since it was a little loud we didn't stay the whole time, but papa took her up front and danced with her for a few songs.

Today, we took her to the Blanton. I thought since she enjoys looking at the pictures in her books so much that she might enjoy looking at the art. I wasn't surprised when she smiled and cooed at many of the paintings. I was surprised at how much she enjoyed the European collection since I'd assumed that she would have preferred the primary colors in the modern section. She liked the babies and the cherubs.

At the museum I got to check out how the college girls were dressed and be reminded of how little I think about my apearance before I leave the house. I don't wear outfits anymore. I don't accessorize. Unless you count a sling as an accessory. My thought process is more like this: Does it fit? Is is clean? Can I nurse in it?

When I go shopping I am invisible. I'm not so slovenly to be suspected of shoplifting but clearly not cool enough to buy anything in your hip South First boutique. I know the difference because sometimes I shop with friends. I have seen the way store clerks perk up when certain friends of mine walk in. I don't know how they know but they're right. I'm not spending $250 for a pair of jeans. I'm going to Last Call if I ever feel the need to wear designer jeans again. But something tells me that since I will never again fit into the 7 jeans hiding in the back of my closet, my fancy pants days are over for awhile.

fighting the baby blues

First, thank you to everyone who sent me such nice e-mails in response to my last post. I'm happy to hear that I still have friends. Also, I didn't think that anyone was reading my blog, so that was pretty cool. And Donna is putting on her superwoman cape and driving all the way from Dallas in her fancy hybrid to cheer me up. My heroine! (BTW, this probably means I'm putting off Ashtanga until Wednesday. I mean, come on, the woman is driving all the way from Dallas to hang out.)

I just sent this in an e-mail to Ravyn and didn't feel like typing it again:

I told my parents how depressed I am/have been so they've been trying to keep me busy today. My dad is a fervent believer in the idea that all mental problems can be solved through physical exertion. So, first thing this morning we headed off to the hike and bike trail with Sweet Pea in the stroller. After that we had breakfast at El Sol y La Luna then went shopping at Whole Foods. Came home, collapsed and slept for a couple of hours. Woke up, had a late lunch then Dad coached me through a 30 minute power walk on the trail in the greenbelt. You should have seen us. He looked like he was talking a leisurely stroll and here I come behind sweating, struggling and gasping for breath. He's always been the athletic one in the family. He says the power walk is going to happen every day. I can't knock it though. It did make me feel better.

Odd girl out

I have a fear that I will eventually be alienated from all my friends. My single friends will no longer feel they can relate to me because I'm now a mother. My married friends will have a hard time including me since I'm single. But so far, most of my friends are still my friends. A few friends dropped off the map after I got pregnant. Maybe they thought that I could only talk about baby stuff.

When I was very pregnant, maybe 35 weeks or so, I was having lunch with my good friend Donna when we ran into a couple of our friends from law school who joined us. Sadly, I couldn't keep up with the conversation at all. My focus had shifted. I was voraciously reading pregnancy and baby related material and was paying very little attention to state politics. I can't deny that my interests have changed.

Making Progress

I just pumped and got three ounces. Slowly I'm getting better at this so I'm going to hold off on getting a fancy pump for awhile.

Sweet Pea has been out like a light all night long. Hasn't even woken up for a snack. I, however, have been awake since 1 a.m.

We went to Ravyn's tonight (last night) and did a meditation to honor the 120th day of her pregnancy. According to Kundalini teachings, that is the day that the soul chooses its parents and enters its physical body. It was a beautiful meditation. But for some reason it has me all keyed up. I don't know why because it was a very peaceful meditation. There were two other pregant women there besides Ravyn. Maybe I picked up on some of that pregnancy insomnia. I haven't had it this bad since I was pregnant. Ugh. Tomorrow is going to be rough. Maybe the pregant ladies are having a great night's sleep tonight. That would make this insomnia worth it. Wouldn't it be cool if you could donate a good night of rest to a hugely pregnant woman? I'd do it.

Pumping Sucks

Since I'm planning on going back to yoga soon, I decided to get a breast pump just in case Sweet Pea needs a snack while I'm in class. Although if I plan my feedings right, she should need one. I should be back in time for her next feeding. With this in mind, I didn't want to shell out $250 for a fancy breast pump, or $50 plus $70 a month for a rental, so I just got the cheapie one. I know, I know I probably just wasted $32 bucks, but I'm going to work at it. Maybe with some practice I can get better. If not, I'm skipping straight to renting a hospital grade pump. I'm not messing around with any mid-range electric. I have several friends who bought an electric and are now renting pumps. I am getting slightly more milk with each attempt so I think I'm making progress. This pump would not work if I was going to be gone for more than a couple of hours at a time since I'm only able to pump an ounce per session. But since I'm only using it so I can go to a yoga class, I think it will be OK for now.

Still, it sucks. Literaly and figuratively. I can't stand the way it stretches the nipple out. At least when my nipples are in SP's mouth I can't see the horrible distortion taking place. I can't look when I'm doing it. Also, my forearm gets tired from the manual pumping. But the worst part is pumping for several minutes when nothing comes out. It's just so discouraging.

Back on the Horse

On Monday, September 17th I will attend my first post-baby Ashtanga class. Yes, although I have thought of every excuse in the book not to, this Monday I will be in that class. Unless the teacher doesn't show up, in which case my first class will be Wednesday.

According to this article a woman should wait three months after giving birth before resuming a full primary series practice. On Monday Sweet Pea turns five months, so my excuses are starting to look pretty thin. Since I only have six more days to make excuses, I might as well start getting them out of the way.

Reasons why I should not go to that Ashtanga class:
1. I'm too fat for any of my Ashtanga appropriate yoga wear
2. I'm too flabby to be seen wearing anything tight, clingy or form fitting.
3. Hormones are making me hot. If I have to practice in a warm stuffy room I might pass out.
4. What if my breasts start leaking? Worse - what if my breasts leak while I am being adjusted?
5. I have no upper body strength. A decent Chaturanga Dandasana is out of the question.
6. I have no back flexibility. Urdvha Dhanurasana might make me cry.
7. I'm a nursing mother! I can't go 1.5 hours without drinking anything!
8. Did I mention that I'm fat?
9. I'm so tired. I don't think I have the stamina. Breastfeeding mothers are supposed to relax.
10. It's been so long that I've forgotten the series.

And the hardest part will be that I can't stand to be away from my Sweet Pea for a whole hour and a half. The good news on that count is that I doubt I'll be in class for near that long. I've never actually seen anyone get stopped prior to Marichyasana but I can see myself getting stopped much, much sooner when I am collapsed on the floor gasping for breath.

But, I wouldn't accept these excuses from anyone else so I'm going to stop accepting them from myself. I will be in that class.

yoga quiz

This was a very silly quiz so I'm not too worried about the results. I don't really think that I'm a yoga snob.

I'm a Yoga School Snob!

A Yoga School Snob If your yoga school had a grading scale you'd make straight As. You've found a yoga style that resonates with you, so you devour every morsel of information that comes from your teachers' lips and apply it to your practice. You've read all the books, twice. You put your mat down in the same place in every class, and your best friends are all the people who put their mats down beside yours (they're yoga geeks, too). But be mindful not to leave others out of your unique community. Beginning students and followers of other yoga disciplines have a lot to offer, too. Welcome them warmly, and keep an open mind about what you can glean from a new perspective.

Take the Yoga Journal Yoga Snob Quiz!