I found it strange walking back through the halls to my midwife’s office, this time not pregnant, not sore. Lauren, of course, was checking in to see if there were any signs of PPD, but found quite the opposite. I’ve been in Lala Land since Penny’s birth – a strange euphoria that just doesn’t seem to wear off. I feel sort of silly, actually, because I don’t have that perpetually stressed and tired look that I see so many new moms wearing. I don’t find myself rolling my eyes when she cries in the middle of the night, or when I’m starving but have to feed her first. I don’t worry about her constantly, that she’ll get sick or abducted. I’m just… really… happy.

Only during the happiness that I’ve found in being a mother have I been able to accurately look back at pregnancy. As much as I tried desperately to keep my complaining to a minimum, to be thankful for each day I had with a healthy baby inside of me, knowing how difficult it is for some women to conceive, and the loss that others have experienced, I just could not get into pregnancy. To be perfectly frank, I hated it. There were very few moments that excited and thrilled me about pregnancy. I didn’t like being slowed down, being tired and sore. I wanted to just drink another cup of coffee and push through it, but found that I just couldn’t. For me, pregnancy sucked.

I told Matt last night that I would rather go through labor and delivery every single day for nine months instead of being pregnant. As difficult as labor was, at least it was going somewhere. At least there was an end in sight. I wasn’t just waiting and waiting and waiting for months on end slowly getting bigger and sore-er.

Crazy, that.

But this, the here and now, holding her and talking to her and watching her smile and talk back. THIS is amazing. THIS happiness is what I heard in other women’s voices when they spoke of feeling their baby kick inside of them, which did nothing but startle and annoy me. I understand it now. I just feel that euphoria with Penny on the outside instead of the inside.

Just a minute ago, before I put her down for her nap, I held her swaddled in my arms and looked down at her face, her eyes drooping. She is the most beautiful human being alive. She is. She is absolutely beautiful. Jaw-droppingly beautiful. And when she smiles, the whole world stops and turns and looks at her.

In the morning, from 6am – 8 am, she comes into bed with me and we lay on our sides facing each other. She tucks her head up into my neck, and I roll so that my body is nearly on top of her. She cuddles up under me and sleeps sounder than any other time of day or night. She doesn’t make a sound. And part of me wants an 18-wheeler to come crashing through the window about to land on top of us on the bed because I’m absolutely certain that I could push it away to protect her.

And perhaps that’s part of it. I’m a wholly and completely different woman than I was nearly seven weeks ago. I can hardly recognize myself. Half of it is the euphoria, and the other half is that I feel like a better, stronger, wiser person than I was before. I feel like Penny makes the best Me come out. That each day she challenges me to be a better person than I was the day before. And I want to be all of that for her.

Because she’s just so stunningly beautiful.

Penny meets Mommy from priscilla on Vimeo.

Nothing I ever write will ever be able to accurately capture the fourty-four hours that I spent in the hospital laboring for Penelope. While the day of her birth was only a short week ago, it’s already a blur except for a few moments that are cemented in my brain more vividly than I can explain. I’ll try to do the best in this birth story to explain Penny’s story, and I forewarn you in advance that I will likely get very weepy and very spiritual when I discuss this experience – the pinnacle of my life thus far.

For those who know me well or have followed this blog for some time, you will know that I chose to use midwives because of their hands-off approach to labor and delivery. I very much wanted a natural vaginal delivery with as few interventions as possible. The biggest challenge of my pregnancy was to reconcile myself with the fact that my all-powerful God had a plan that very well might differ from the plan that I had for Penny’s birth. Ultimately, He was in control, and with the strength he equipped me, I was able to face my greatest fears and accept the many interventions that were necessary for Penny’s health and wellbeing.

I will take this moment to say that I still believe a woman’s body is meant to deliver a baby without medical induction and intervention, and that nine times out of ten that is the best thing for mama and baby. I believe that Penny’s birth was the exception to the rule, and never once have I been disappointed in the way things played out because I believe we only chose those interventions for her safety when everything else had been tried. While I wound up having a C-section, I will adamantly state that there are far too many C-sections being performed in America. After experiencing every possible intervention myself, I would encourage women everywhere to try to avoid them unless your child is at risk. It’s neither fun, nor the way your body was meant to deliver a baby. As for me, I am hopeful that next time around I will be given the gift of a natural vaginal delivery, and am thankful for the health practitioners who made it possible for me to hope for a VBAC in the future.

And I’ll say what I have believed all along, just altered a bit now. Friends don’t let friends use OBs. Unless they’re young, quirky Jewish OBs.

Monday, June 28th

9:45 am – We arrived at the Imaging Center for an ultrasound to check Penny’s fluid levels. Before heading out for the test, I noticed my bloody show had arrived, and excitedly called my doula with hopes that I would naturally go into labor that day, twelve days late, and not need to be induced. Unfortunately while Penny looked great in the ultrasound, her fluid levels were low, so we were sent to the midwife’s office to discuss options.

At the office, our midwife informed us that yes, we would need an induction for Penny’s overall well-being. She was very flexible with us about the time of day when we should head to the hospital, but wanted us to go that day as we needed to “get this baby out.” We scheduled the induction for 7:30 that evening.

Matt and I went home to prepare ourselves for the hospital. We spent a few hours finishing our packing, feeding the cat, calling our relatives and bringing the dog to the boarder. We lay down for one last nap where we both had a very necessary breakdown. I was so disappointed with the induction and very scared of the road ahead of us. We spent a good bit of time in prayer, and I called a dear friend to pray with me. Then we tried to sleep – a hard thing to do with such a big event looming in front of you. We threw together one last dinner, scrambled eggs and toast for me – the one thing I had craved throughout my whole pregnancy – and we headed to the hospital.

7:30 pm – We arrived at the hospital and registered in Labor & Delivery. The midwife on duty, Elaine, came out to tell us that they did not have enough beds for us yet. It would be a bit of a wait, and we should grab dinner if we hadn’t eaten yet. As we had already eaten, we stared vacantly at the people walking in and out of the L&D lounge. I don’t know how else to describe the wait other than totally surreal. Like waiting on death row.

8:30 pm – Finally we were brought back to our L&D room to prep for induction. I was hooked up to the fetal monitor so the nurses could watch Penny’s heartrate and get our vitals. I was given an IV, which for me is always an event. It felt like the IV took about a half an hour since they had to stick me twice, what with my bum veins and all. During this time Penny’s heartrate was higher than Midwife Elaine would have liked, and there was concern that Penny might not be able to handle induction.

Tuesday, June 29th

12 am – 50% effaced, 0 dilation

For a few hours we watched and waited to see if Penny’s heartrate would lower to the 140s or 150s. Eventually it did, but only when our doula arrived at the hospital, and I started to calm down and lay on my side instead of my back. Late in the evening Elaine decided to do a Pitocin test to see how Penny would do with the drug. After 30 minutes of handling Pitocin well, I was taken off of it, and they prepped for cervical ripening.

3:30 am – Induction with Cytotec was begun. All I have to say here is Google Cytotec. It’s the drug for cervical ripening that you DON’T want your practitioner to use. It’s also the “cheaper” option, and the only one that is used at my hospital. All said and done, this is the only beef I had with the entire hospital in my week-long stay there, and I intend to write a letter to the hospital administrator begging that they switch to Cervidil for the sake of women and their uteruses everwhere.

7:40 am – 80% effaced, 1 cm dilated. Cervical ripening requires that the mother remain horizontal, so during these hours Matt, Doula Annie, and I were able to rest and try to catch some Z’s. At this point, my cervix was soft enough that it was determined I wouldn’t need another dose of Cytotec and that we would move on with the induction. It was also time for Midwife Elaine to switch shifts, so we said hello to Midwife Linda.

10:30 am – 80% effaced, 1 cm dilated. Before starting a Pitocin drip, Midwife Linda decided we should attempt a Foley bulb which manually dilates the cervix. Linda inserted the Foley bulb, a rather uncomfortable procedure, and while they were adding the sterile water to inflate the bulb, Penny’s heartrate started to drop. She clearly was not a fan of our friend Foley, so Linda set me free to walk around the L&D floor in hopes that contractions would start naturally.

Of course because my body was not ready for this labor, contractions did not start naturally, so we headed back into our room for a second try at the Foley bulb. This time, Penny handled it well, so Matt and I got back up to waddle around the L&D floor, now with the bulb in place and the first sign of contractions. I will say that my nurse, the lovely and gracious Mary, mentioned to me that she had never seen a woman get a Foley bulb without an epidural. I found this preposterous. Let me tell you now, if you ever need a Foley bulb inserted, you can do it without an epidural. It’s really not that bad. IVs are worse. So that’s just an aside…

1:00 pm – 80% effaced, 5 cm dilated. After a few hours of walking with Mr. Foley, I burst into exuberant tears when I heard Midwife Linda tell me that I was 5 centimeters dilated. Now it was time to get my body up to the labor level that the Foley bulb had gotten me to. I was high as a kite and very certain that I would be able to have this baby, and have her as naturally as is possible… with Pitocin that is.

1:30 pm – Pitocin induction started. It took hours for the contractions to get to a level that Midwife Linda felt was strong enough to make progress. Because of the Pitocin, I needed to stay in my L&D room hooked up to a fetal monitor and blood pressure cuff. I shifted positions every half hour and tried a number of things to deal with the pain. I found the pain easiest to manage while upright, although I spent some time on my side to try to get some rest.

6:00 pm – 80% effaced, 6 cm dilated – as in five and a half hours laboring on Pitocin and only once centimeter of progress.

6:30 pm – Midwife Linda breaks my water. I was very nervous about this because I had heard it was a painful experience to have your water broken without an epidural. I honestly can’t remember what it felt like. It was painful, but the contractions were pretty darn bad at the time, and because Penny was posterior I was having intense pain in my back which kinda took away from the pain of having my water broken. It really wasn’t any worse than just getting checked to see how far dilated you are, I guess.

For the next five and a half hours I continued to labor on Pitocin without pain medication. Everyone says these contractions are worse than normal labor contractions, but I obviously have no other experience to compare them to. Doula Annie, Matt, nurse Mary, and the newest midwife, Margaret did tremendous work to help me deal with the pain. They gave me water, jello, cold washcloths and stood around me praying through the contractions. Laboring naturally is everything that I read it would be – hard work. I felt myself get into a zone where I could focus and groan through the pain and envision Penelope in my arms. I also remember finding great relief in repeating over and over again in my head “Put it on Me” and visualizing passing the pain I was feeling off to Christ on the cross. His pain was so much greater than my own, and knowing that I could pass that off to him really took the edge off. I also asked Matt to repeat the lyrics to a song that I love, “Land me safe on Canaan’s side, bid my anxious fears, bid my anxious fears goodbye.”

At one point there was a glitch in my IV where the Pit came flooding in all at once creating back to back contractions with very little break in between. Suddenly Penny’s heartrate dropped drastically and the room filled with nurses who flipped me on my side, turned off the Pit and wound up giving me a shot into my uterus to instantly stop the contractions. As agonizing as the pain of those back to back contractions was, nothing was as scary as hearing Penny’s heartrate halve. That moment was the first time that I really understood I might need to have a C-section, should the situation arise again, and I braced myself for that out of concern for Penny’s safety.

At one point the contractions were very intense and I wound up vomiting. I remember saying to the people in the room, “Someone please tell me I’m in transition!” After being checked, I heard the devastating news that no, I was still at 6 cm. So it was time to discuss…

Wednesday, June 30th

12:00 am – Epidural. After nearly 10 1/2 hours laboring on Pitocin and only dilating one centimeter, Midwife Margaret recommended that I get an epidural. She thought that it would relax me enough to dilate the rest of the way, and would also give me some time to rest. After discussing it with Matt and Doula Annie, we decided to go ahead with the epidural.

Y’all know how petrified I am of needles, and yet I was absolutely ready for not only the pain to end, but also a chance at progressing farther in labor and the possibility of getting to push soon. One of the hardest parts of labor was waiting the fifteen or so minutes for the anesthesiologists to show up and numb me. I can’t say enough great things about the staff over at Vanderbilt. These guys somehow gently knocked out the feeling in the belly and legs of a woman who would rather die than ever see the needle they used. Matt was a trooper and sat in front of me holding my hands. At one point he had to take off his wedding ring because I was cutting his hands by squeezing them so tightly. I heart you, Matt.

With the epidural and spinal in, I was able to lay on my side for a few hours and sleep through the contractions. Midwife Margaret noticed that my water was not completely broken, so she re-broke my water. We knew that Penny was posterior and so I did the “pretzel” flipping from side to side every few hours. Matt and Doula Annie were able to rest as well, although they were always quick to jump up and help me when I needed some water or someone to move my totally limp legs.

10:30 am – 100% effaced, 10 cm dilated. When I woke up Midwife Lauren, my all-time favorite midwife, was there for her shift. She was my fourth midwife as they take 12 hour shifts. She checked me and saw that I was fully dilated and ready to push. I was so excited to get the pushing underway, to meet my daughter, and for Lauren to be the midwife to deliver her. We pushed for two and a half hours. The highlight was Matt being able to see Penny’s full head of dark hair while I was pushing. The lowest moment was finding out that Penny was unable to turn and had only moved a centimeter down the birth canal in those two and a half hours. My proudest moment, perhaps of the entire labor and delivery was when my doula suggested I push on hands and knees. Lauren didn’t think I could do it as I had no feeling in my legs from the epidural. But I pulled myself up and pushed for a half an hour on hands and knees. When asked how I was able to do it, I remember responding, “I AM NOT HAVING A C-SECTION!” About an hour later, it was time to discuss surgery.

1:00 pm – Midwife Lauren and the Obstetrician on call advised a Cesarean section. I cried. Matt cried. And then we started praying harder than we’ve ever prayed before. I asked to speak with Anesthesiologist Shane who assured me that he could give me a little something to take the edge off, although he was concerned I might forget some important moments of the surgery, such as seeing my daughter for the first time.

1:36 pm – We opted for the C-section. I opted for Shane’s cocktail to take the edge off, despite the warning that I might not remember much of the experience. Matt prepped for surgery. I felt an overwhelming calm come over me – the prayers of my family and friends, the presence of the Almighty who was bidding my anxious fears goodbye.

3:00 pm – We went in to surgery. Midwife Lauren sat next to me while Anesthesiologist Shane hooked me up phat. Lauren put in my ear buds and turned on Ben Harper’s “Live From Mars” (Disc 2) and I wafted into a blurry haze listening to “Waiting On An Angel.” I had waited and labored so long for my angel, and she was right around the corner.

This is what I remember. I remember groaning during the pressure of the initial incision. I remember the feeling as the fiesty Jewish female OB in her thirties tugged forward and backward to dislodge Penny’s head from my pelvic bone. I remember hearing a nurse say “Baby is out.” I remember hearing Penelope cry after they fixed her up. I remember Matt carrying her to my side and asking for my glasses so that I could see her. I remember how beat up her face looked and thinking she was far more beautiful than I had dreamed. I remember thinking how undeserving I was. I remember saying, “Oh my God” over and over and over again. I remember telling everyone in the operating room that they were incredible, and I would kiss them all if I could. I remember Midwife Lauren holding my hand and praying for me while they put my insides back inside of me. I remember when Matt had to leave to be with Penny and asking for my nurse Mary who came to hold my hand.

And then I was wheeled back into the L&D room and saw my beautiful doula. Shortly after my daughter was brought in and placed on my chest and doula Annie helped me nurse her for the very first time. And even though I felt like I had been beaten, raped, and left for dead in an alleyway, I looked at Penelope and all of the pain was totally gone.

Penelope Caitlyn was born at 3:42 in the afternoon. She was so stunned from her difficult journey that she scored a 1 on her one minute Apgar but later a 9 on her five minute Apgar.

She was and is a miracle. Her arrival was proof that my God exists, that He lives, that He dwells with me, that He comes when I call out for him, that He provides strength to the weary, and that He can bid my anxious fears goodbye.

Today is July 7, 2010. A year ago today I lost my first baby. It is only fitting that I celebrate the life of my second baby, my beautiful Penelope Caitlyn who has taught me so much about the grace of God, on this day which to me will always be a reminder of the fragility of life. Her birth has shown me that the best things in life come through the greatest hardships.

We are totally in love and recovering nicely. More photos and a birth story to come, but for now we need some rest. Hope these will keep you occupied!

Lookin a bit beat up after a rough journey

The midwife sent me home with the edict to spend the weekend doing nothing but the thing that got me into this mess to begin with. Matt had an evil glint in his eye. Boy is embracing midwifery more and more each visit.

41 weeks is no more uncomfortable than 40 weeks or 39, or 38. Would I love to be holding my baby girl this very moment? Absolutely. But I continue to be tickled pink that I have a team of care providers who are really in my court – ones who feel induction at this stage is unnecessary unless Penny was not responding well to the tests. I have until Monday before I go in for more tests, and should we pass those I’ll have until 42 weeks before they will plan induction.

A lot of people have asked me why I don’t just go ahead and get induced anyway. Aren’t I uncomfortable? Wouldn’t I rather just get the inconvenient waiting over with? I so appreciate that they understand how non fun it is being this pregnant for this long, but I truly believe that my babe will come when God wants her to come. Getting her out for my own comfort seems a bit… selfish, no? I want her arrival into the world to be the God-ordained, natural process that it is supposed to be.

Plus if I do this laboring according to my brilliant plan, I can come out the other end without once being touched with a needle.

So a big thank you to all of our dear friends and family who are inundating us with love, support and encouragement. As Tom Petty so correctly put it, “the waiting is the hardest part.” But I am having so much fun spending these last few weeks with Matt, and am really happy that my care providers are giving me the (very normal and healthy for a first-time mom) extra time for Penelope to make her way into the world.

Scuse me… I just got a rascally wink. Duty calls.

Here are some before and afters from when we first bought the house. The projects in this room included ripping out lower cabinets and countertop, moving the extra fridge to the basement, tearing down old wallpaper, putting up new wallpaper, painting cabinets, running water and electricity for the washer and dryer, installing a new floor, installing beadboard on the walls and ceiling and putting in crown molding & chair rail.

Before:

From Daily Daguerreotype

From Daily Daguerreotype

After:

From Daily Daguerreotype

From Daily Daguerreotype

I’m so pleased with how it all turned out, which is a tribute to how good Matt is at actually creating what I have in my mind. As you know, I love doing laundry, but probably because of my adorable laundry room and its convenient location right off my kitchen. We’ve started parking our cars in the backyard now, so this is becoming our main entrance and has been really functional so far. I’m also seeing via the picture that it’s time to take out the recycling.

We also tackled a project this weekend that we had been wanting to do for years. I had inherited an old beat up bookshelf that my grandfather built years and years ago. It had been sitting in my parents basement for a while holding cans of paint, so it was in pretty rough condition. This weekend we sanded it down and put a few fresh coats of black paint on it giving it new life. Then last night Matt hauled up the boxes of books we’ve had in storage for a year now, and I organized them on the bookshelf. With my new zest for reading, we’re both tickled pink that our books are finally accessible. Although we realized we need about 2 more shelves of the same size.

From Daily Daguerreotype

Matt’s currently down in the basement putting the second coat of paint on a coffee table he built years ago, which is getting a new life in our newly finished den upstairs. The den and guest room are slowly coming together, so I’ll have pictures of those perhaps later this week if Penny Cate is still snoozin at the wheel.

Feels good to be finishing up some of these things and finally moving into our house.

Free-Range Kids, How to Raise Safe, Self-Reliant Children (Without Going Nuts with Worry) by Lenore Skenazy – I don’t really foresee reading a ton of parenting books over the next few years, which you might think is completely arrogant and crazy. But while I don’t have a clue what to do with your child sitting over there, I am fairly confident that raising my own kids is going to come pretty naturally. I have a strong instinct that I intend to listen to, and I’m married to someone who is pretty well-educated about childhood development. I also have been really blessed with having parents and inlaws that did a pretty darned good job of raising their kids, and I figure if I try to do most things the way they did I can’t screw it up too badly.

With all of that in mind, I was really interested in reading Free-Range Kids because I’ve read Lenore’s blog, and much of her emphasis is on old-school parenting. IE: Did our parents raise us to be serial killers? No. So what’s so very wrong with how we were parented? She’s against the helicopter parenting that is so prevalent these days, and really the takeaway from the book is to just let your kids get outside and run around a little more.

I was encouraged by her logical approach to TRUE crime statistics, and think I’ll probably try to raise Penny Cate to be a “free-range kid” as much as I can. Overall, I give the book a B+.

Twilight, New Moon, and Eclipse by Stephenie Meyer – You knew it was coming. My dear friend Kiki gave me the first book when she was down visiting over Memorial Day weekend, and as soon as I started I couldn’t put it down. Then I went to Borders and picked up the next one, read it in a day, and headed to Kroger that evening to pick up Eclipse. I now understand the phenomenon.

People like these books for different reasons, some because they are into vampires and werewolves, others because they are hormonal teenagers who enjoy reading about other hormonal teenagers kissing. And then there are those of us who can totally relate to falling in love with someone who is completely out of their league, and it just doesn’t make sense that that person is returning the affection. I’ve decided that’s why I dig these books so much. They remind me of the year that I dated Matt before we got married. The year that he was THE Matt Hofmann in my mind. The year before he started burping at the dinner table and leaving his dirty socks on the bedroom floor.

The books themselves really don’t deserve a rating of anything more than a C+, which is fine by me because in college I was more than happy with the C’s I earned – too busy socializing to attend class or study. If you are a person who enjoyed college for the same reasons and can appreciate things that are fun for the sake of being fun, you will enjoy the Twilight books. You’d probably also enjoy them if you like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain. Also, Robert Pattinson is hot.

The Art of Dying: Living Fully into the Life to Come by Rob Moll - Yes. Really. I’m following Twilight with my brother in law’s new release. Because they couldn’t be more different.

I like this book, and not just because my brother in law slaved over it for the past few years. I just really like anyone who has the guts to talk about things that people, for the most part, are loathe to discuss. And death is one of those things.

At age 27, I haven’t spent a lot of time thinking about my own death, although I have experienced plenty of loss in my lifetime. This book helped me process through some of that loss and also to consider how to daily live with my mortality in mind. I don’t really know what else to say other than that you should read it yourself. I give the book a B+, mainly because it’s Rob’s first book and he’s gotta have room to go up, right?

We Are Doomed: Reclaiming Conservative Pessimism by John Derbyshire - I’m only halfway through this book, but I can’t put it down. John Derbyshire cracks me the heck up. Matt asked my mom for this book for Christmas, and after reading it told me that I HAD to read it next. So I am. And I just bought it for my dad for Father’s Day because it’s just that funny. Plus Derbyshire quotes from Albion’s Seed which my dad loves.

Those of you who know me in real life know that I’m, for all intents and purposes, a Libertarian. But my biggest beef with Libertarian politics is the same beef I have with Liberal politics (and actually the current wave of Conservatism too!) and that is an unrealistic Utopian optimism. That mankind is just inherently good enough to improve life for others, or to live and let live. Nice in theory, but fails in practice.

John Derbyshire takes a very practical, yet humorous pessimistic stance and explains why he feels that’s the best approach, and furthermore why the Right should head back to its pessimistic roots. So much of what he says flips my brain upside down, and with his addition of humor the book is quite enjoyable to read. I very much would appreciate if one of my more open-minded liberal friends would read this book so that I could have someone on the other side of the table to bounce my thoughts off of. Anyone? Anyone? I give Derbyshire a solid A on this one.

I don’t have anything else lined up after We Are Doomed, other than to read the fourth Twilight book which I refuse to buy since it’s only out on hardcover. But frankly I’m hoping Penelope arrives before I get to that point bringing my reading to a screeching halt. Or at least exchanging adult books for the much more preferable Dr. Seuss.

And so we spend another day living spontaneously and pretending we’re in back in college where Today! Just! Might! Bring! ANYTHING!!!!

That’s how we spent our weekend, and I can’t tell you how spontaneous and doting Matt was. He bathed the dog, hung curtain hardware (his least favorite task in the whole world), mowed the lawn, took me shopping and for water ice, took me out for pad thai, and suggested we rent the first two Twlight movies because “I’m interested in it since you’re so infatuated.” While we were in TJ Maxx, I suggested we pick up a gift for his coworker who has an upcoming baby shower, but he only wanted to do spontaneous things – not check things off a to-do list.

Then yesterday afternoon my sciatica was bothering me, so I flopped on the bed to spoon Berlin. Matt sat down with his guitar and played all of my favorite George Harrison songs over and over again until I ceased whispering “Again! Again!” He painted my toenails despite much guffawing, and he complimented me on the strange cream-of-every-kind-of-vegetable-imaginable-and-wild-rice-soup that I concocted. Soup for lunch on a 95 degree day.

As we were laying in bed last night, Matt’s first dog, Toby, was referenced, and I asked for a reminder on how Toby died. “He died of heat stroke.” And that’s when I remembered the tragic story and broke into hysterical tears at the thought of poor Toby getting so excited to see his owners arrive home from vacation that he wound himself up into such a mess he died of heat stroke. I was laying there weeping leaving Matt very confused with my spontaneous outbreak, but when he realized the extent of my hysterics, calmed me down and made a mental note to never ever bring up Toby’s death ever again. Just store that memory in the silent box in the back of his brain where he also keeps the death of the Crocodile Hunter – another devastation I cannot bear to relive.

I know that I must be nearly unbearable to reside with at this point, as I’d imagine most pregnant women within are within days of their due date (see above hysterics). But my best friend and lover has taken such good care of me these last few days, that I cannot complain about the nagging aches and pains, the endless waiting. He has stepped in to walk me through this crazy time of my life and to face my fears right beside me. I am reminded again just how lucky I am to have him, and likewise how important it is to protect my time with him. He is and always will be the most important person in my life, the love of my life, and my soulmate.

So thankyou, Matthew, for making this weekend, possibly our last weekend alone, so much fun. For caring for me and making me slump over in laughter.

And for being taller and hotter than Robert Pattinson.

Matt is out trying to catch Conan and Jack White at some show in in the city. I am dubious that he will be able to get in, but I hope he does, for his sake. Because at least one of us should have one last night of pale-skinned comedy. I’ll stick to pale-skinned vampiric tragedy.

What did you do while waiting for your first baby to arrive and turn your world upside down?

Off to pay some bills while rolling around on my birthing ball…

Because I’m so tired, I’ve decided to give you a top 10 list. I thought a list would be easy to write. Let’s see if my instinct is correct on that one.

Top 10 things to think about when you can’t sleep at night because your skeletal system is screaming obscenities at your nervous system.

1. Sitting by a glacial lake eating fondue and drinking Argentine coffee in the Andes mountains while listening to the blues.

2. Whether or not you would have the surf, the turf, or one of each on Surf & Turf night on a Caribbean cruise.

3. Which of the people coming to visit you after your baby arrives will love you enough to pour you a very generous glass of white wine instead of snapping your adorable baby up into their arms?

4. If you were in love with a vampire, would you be able to get past their pasty white skin?

5. If you were in love with a werewolf, would you be able to get past their very hairy body?

6. Which of your friends would you hope your husband would remarry in the slim chance you die during childbirth?

7. If you could go back to school to become a pilot, which airline would you want to work for?

8. Which came first… chicken or the egg?

9. Farm fresh CSA eggs… just linger on that thought for a while.

10. Go ahead and get up to make yourself some scrambled eggs and toast. It might be 12:30 am, you might need a forklift to get out of bed, but YOU WILL NOT REGRET IT.

Counting sheep is SO over-rated.