I know I posted ultrasound pictures on the blog, but I didn’t write about the experience, mainly because I received some information about the baby and I’m in denial about it.
Don’t worry, everything is fine. According to my doctor, the baby is healthy and growing. Growing quite well, actually.
It turns out that the little one growing inside my belly weighs 11 ounces. I was 18 weeks pregnant the day of the ultrasound, and a baby at that gestation typically weighs between 5 1/2 and 7 ounces. That is the average. Eleven ounces is nearly double the average. Eleven ounces is the average weight at 21 weeks gestation.
The ultrasound technician told me that going by baby’s weight alone, my due date would be October 9th. My due date based on my BBT chart is October 27th. My doctor is going by my last menstrual period, which means that due date is October 22nd. I’m ready to scream.
I’m growing the Monster Baby. In fact, Doug and I have been referring to him or her as Monster Baby since Tuesday. My doctor joked that if Monster Baby continues to grow at this rate, he or she will weigh approximately 9 1/2 to 10 pounds at full term.
I CANNOT IMAGINE PUSHING THAT HEAD OUT OF MY VAGINA.
I am terrified at the thought. I refuse to acknowledge the possibility of birthing a baby that weighs over nine pounds. Are you kidding me? I’d never survive. Dawson weighed 7 pounds, 8 ounces. Two more pounds might kill me.
Dr. F was very kind when explaining the ultrasound results. He told me nothing is definite, especially because I have to go back for another ultrasound in three weeks. This is so that they can get pictures of everything they couldn’t obtain at Tuesday’s ultrasound, as well as check baby’s growth again.
Dr. F is hoping the baby doesn’t grow too rapidly in the next three weeks. Any more than one ounce per week may indicate gestational diabetes and I will have the glucose testing at 22 weeks instead of the usual 28 weeks.
This is another thing I’m freaking out about. I’m already under strict monitoring for my blood pressure and I have a home monitor to check the BP 4 times a day. If I have to lug around a glucose monitor as well, and poke my fingers four times a day…well I don’t know what I’ll do, but I guarantee I will be one crabby pregnant woman.
The funniest part of this whole situation? Before the ultrasound I made the decision to try natural childbirth. I had an epidural with Dawson because I was terrified of labor and delivery, and I was induced with pitocin (2 weeks early due to pre-eclampsia) which made my contractions unbearable. I was so panicked and afraid and I knew the epidural would calm me down.
The second the anesthesiologist put the needle in my back, I felt relief. However, I hated the fact that my legs were numb. No pain was fantastic but not feeling or having control over my legs freaked me out. Not only that, the epidural “broke” an hour before I began pushing and the anesthesiologist refused to remove it until after Dawson was born. The thing was still hooked up to me and I could feel it every time I moved.
I hated having a catheter hooked up to my bladder. I hated not being able to get out of bed until I could feel my legs. I hated the fact that Dawson seemed drowsy after delivery, and I think that’s why we had a rough start to breastfeeding. Plus, I think the epidural left me in a drowsy state for several days.
Because of these reasons, I thought at least trying to have a drug free delivery would be worth it. My own mother told me that when she was in labor with me, without drugs, it was the most painful and horrible thing she ever experienced, but after I was born she felt like a million bucks. Her doctor told her it was endorphins coming to the rescue. The more I research this, the more I learn that natural childbirth might be for me.
And then my doctor says the words “nine pounds” and I’m suddenly afraid of the Monster Baby’s head tearing apart my nether regions. I’m really leaning towards the epidural again, but I know I’m going to hate it. Good thing I have time to decide.
Nine pounds! Yikes! I think I’ll go back to denial. I like it there.
My husband left this morning for his annual carp shooting (bow fishing) trip with his friend. They’ll be in Winneconne until Sunday night. And (this should come as no surprise) Dawson is spending another weekend at Grandma’s house. My mother called yesterday to solidify the plan. I’m going to have another weekend by myself. I don’t think I like it.
While I’m happy that Doug is using some vacation time to do what he loves, and I feel very lucky that Dawson has grandparents who love him and want to spend as much time as they can with him, I’m bummed that I really have nothing to do all weekend.
I could clean the house, but I’m sick of cleaning. I’m the only one who’s doing it these past few weeks and I’m really tired of picking up after those boys. Doug leaves socks in the strangest places. Dawson managed to keep his room clean, only because I’ve been nagging him, but he has a few toys on the living room foor. And that dog! He keeps leavng his nylon bone and chew toys on the kitchen floor. One of these days I’m going to slip and kill myself.
I could finally read all those books stacked on my side table. I could walk the dog. I could go to the gym. I could take a nap. I could watch T.V. (and have full control of the remote).
I could do anything I want, but honestly, I really don’t want to be alone.
I never, ever thought I would say that. Six months ago I was begging for time to myself. Now I’ve got it and I don’t want it. Talk about ironic…
I’m in favor of funding birth control pills and other contraceptives, because I believe God would prefer BC over ending the lives of a millions of babies. I’m only bringing God into the equation because my opposition is constantly calling me a crazy, right-wing, religious nut.
If you search through my archives on abortion, I’ve never used religion or God in the abortion debate — mainly because religion is irrelevant. Whether or not you believe in God, abortion still ends lives.
I’m getting really sick and tired of the government funding of Planned Parenthood, meanwhile independent organizations like Birth Right are often left to raise money through private donations. At least birth right is independent, interdenominational, and not affiliated with any religious or political group or public agency.
Birthright isn’t in the business of promoting (re: making money from) abortion. I fully believe that Planned Parenthood needs restructuring. Too often their practices are found to be involved in scandal. It’s like PP is in cahoots with the pro-choice movement. When I saw the video below, I grew even angrier.
The first time I was pregnant I read all the books. You know. The Books. The ones that tell you what to expect during the nine months of pregnancy, what to expect during labor and delivery, how to write a birth plan and how to manage every physical ailment carrying a baby may bring.
Thirty-eight very short weeks later, my son was born and I had absolutely no idea what to do next. The books don’t tell you about the excitement and joy that will wash over you, becoming almost too much to bear. The books never told me about the let down after birth, all that pent up excitement about the baby’s arrival, and then suddenly you’re thinking, “Wait. This is it? So, now what?”
Don’t get me wrong, I love my baby (even at 4 and 3/4′s old, he’s still my baby) and those 38 weeks of highs and lows were totally worth it. But somewhere between conception and birth I lost Dana and became Mom.
Perfect example of this loss of identity: During the nine months of doctor’s appointments, the nurse and doctors always referred to me as Dana or Mrs. Tuszke, but the second I pushed that baby out, I was called Mom. A few hours after delivery a nurse came to check my blood pressure and said, “How’s Mom doing today?” I wanted to turn around and look for my own mother. (Actually, I wanted to scream at the nurse and tell her I still had a first name.)
Recently, I had the opportunity to read the book Mojo Mom, by Amy Tiemann, Ph.D. and reflect on every aspect of pregnancy, birth and motherhood. Tiemann discusses what happens to a new mother’s life after she brings baby home, and offers advice on how to deal with the huge identity shift many women face, especially those who have left behind a career, friends and a paycheck.
I fell in love with her book when I read the first sentence in which she defines what Mommy Mojo really is:
Mommy Mojo is the feeling you get when you are at the top of your game, juglling the many facets of your life and keeping your own needs in balance with family needs.
Okay, I’m bluffing just a little. I wasn’t totally in love just yet. At first I thought she was crazy. Balance? Seriously? Yeah right, I thought. I’ve been doing this mom thing for nearly five years and I’ve yet to find balance. How could Amy Tiemann believe that finding balance is really possible?
The more I read the more I discovered that as mother’s we’re often set up to fail. We’ve been told we can have it all: the job, the husband, the family and still have time for ourselves. It’s one of the greatest myths of motherhood, this having it all thing. Tiemann herself says, “Todays’ new Moms were raised to believe that we could do anything. We are the Free to Be…You and Me, women who grew up assured that opportunity and equality were our birthright.” And that’s when I really fell in love with this book.
Tiemann strips away the myths in the first chapter when she discusses the early months of motherhood, or Life Inside the Cocoon. She discusses the first days after birth to the postpartum period, and offers advice on getting help if you think you may be suffering from postpartum depression. Motherhood is a marathon, she says, not a sprint. It is a marathon that is made easier with adequate support, but our culture frequently does a terrible job of supporting mothers and the difficult work they do.
Tiemann adresses the topic of going back to work. She talks about sex after baby arrives. She offers advice on asking for help when you just want to have a nap or take a shower.
My favorite is Chapter 4 in which Tiemann adresses mommy guilt and how to let go of it, as well as the worry and axiety.
She writes:
A contributing factor to Mom guilt is the cultural trend toward overinvolved hyperparenting. This can happen to anyone: Employed Moms may adopt this tendency to make up for lost time with their children, and stay-at-home Moms may become overinvolved to justify their time spent away from the paid workforce.
I found myself nodding my head throughout the entire chapter. For me, the hardest part of motherhood is the guilt. When I worked full time, I felt guilty for putting my son in daycare. In my head I felt like someone else was raising my child. Parenting was my job, and forty hours each week, I wasn’t doing “my job” because I was working hard to pay the bills.
After a lay-off I became a stay-at-home mom for a few months and overcompensated for the time I was away at work by completely immersing myself in motherhood and hyperparenting. Now that I’m a work-at-home mom, some of the guilt has washed away because I’m able to spend more time with my son and contribute to our bank account as well.
There was only one part of this chapter that I wasn’t in total agreement with. Tiemann discusses her belief that motherhood isn’t really “the most important job in the world.” She states, “It’s not because motherhood is not important, and I fully acknowledge that motherhood is genuine, valuable work. However, on a personal identity level, Judith Stadtman Tucker, founder of the Mothers Movement Online, introduced me to the revelatoryidea that motherhood is not a job; it is a relationship.”
It’s true, I did protest at this statement because motherhood is the hardest job relationship I’ve ever had to work at. College didn’t prepare me for diaper blow-outs, colic and breastfeeding troubles. I had on-the-job training and it sucked for the first six months. No one hands me a paycheck for keeping the kid alive 168 hours a week.
As I let Tiemann’s words sink in, I began to understand what she meant. The problem emerges when you begin to think of “motherhood as a professional outlet; you will start to expect motherhood to deliver the same rewards that a career does: measurable achievement, results, and advancement, and a sense of identity as you live your life through that role.”
There was that word again: Identity. And the more I reflected on this new idea, the more I got it. Motherhood isn’t a career. It’s hard work, most definitely. There are rewards to being a mom, but they are different than those one receives in a career.
I could write my own book telling you about Amy Tiemann’s book. Instead I highly reccommend that you read Mojo Mom. It’s honest and informative and I really enjoyed Tiemann’s perspective on motherhood. (In fact, I feel like reading it again just before Baby #2 arrives.)
Thanks Mothertalk.com for allowing me the opportunity to read and review Mojo Mom.
Dana began her Mom career in 2004 with the birth of her first son, Dawson, aka The Doodlebug, and little brother, Owen, was born in 2009. She spends her days putting out fires, climbing mountains and chasing monsters. More About Dana.
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