Best with fava beans and a nice Chianti

For a few weeks just before I was due with Mr. Monk, my husband and I attended a childbirth class at a local pregnancy/childbirth/parenting center. We decided to go to the crunchy, granola place considering our general desire to have a natural childbirth and, more importantly, it was only a five minute drive from our house. Over the years we've learned that long car rides when you're running perpetually late are not very good for our marriage or our sanity. So, the uber hippie place it was!

From the second we started our first class, I could hear the Sesame Street song "One Of These Things Is Not Like The Others" playing in my head. I was the only one wearing makeup. The only one giving birth at the posh hospital ("baby factory") across the city (maybe not the best planning considering our aforementioned driving issues). The only one who didn't consider the possibility of a c section to be a fate worse than death. The only one wearing deodorant. Just kidding, but I probably was the only one wearing perfume.

Over the course of the class, it was enlightening hearing the women talk about their home birth plans, tubs and all. I tried to keep an open mind as others shared their desire to breastfeed for 2 to 3 years. (!) Although I thought many of the other women were maybe just a little kooky and I'm pretty sure they were judging me and my purses, it was a serene environment in which to learn about the roller coaster we were about to experience. That is, of course, until they told us to eat our placenta.

For the uninitiated, eating one's placenta, placentophagia if you will, is supposed to help regulate your hormones and prevent postpartum depression. Look, it's trendy! One of the women in our class planned to mix her frozen placenta into a smoothie. The instructor also blended hers upon the birth of her daughter. While I was feeling mildly nauseous at the thought, my husband was listening with rapt attention. He became convinced that "we" needed to do this to help bring our baby into a happy home. "We? What we?" I wondered as he started finding out rates for the encapsulation of my placenta into pills that I would have to take.

After being a week overdue, I went to see an acupuncturist friend to kick start the labor process. While I was fairly certain the acupuncture wasn't doing what the pitocin later would, I chatted with my friend about the meal o' placenta. She was so emphatic about the benefits and her amazing experience, calling it the best high ever. I began to think that maybe I could take the pills after all. I was so used to downing all those prenatals, what not add another handful of horse capsules?

So, we decided to just have the pills made in case I wanted to take them. My OB hardly batted an eye when I told her my revised birth plan to harvest and take home my placenta in a tupperware. This is San Francisco after all. The "placenta doula" picked up the organ and turned it into pills less than 12 hours later. It was the most efficient transaction ever. I was half delirious having just delivered Mr. Monk into the world, but I remember her being sweet, braided and very soothing. She even brought me a print of my placenta (think fingerprint, only bigger and more bloody) that I specifically requested her NOT to bring. She suggested I may want to hang it in the nursery. It's rolled up in back of the nursery closet. Does that count?

I didn't follow her directions to take 6 pills a day for the first week postpartum. I couldn't even bring myself to open the jar for the first four days. Curiosity got the best of me on the fifth day and I tried two of the pills. Nothing happened. Taking that as a good sign, I took three more pills that night. I wish I could say that nothing happened.

I woke up in the morning with a bright red, itchy rash ALL OVER MY ENTIRE BODY! I was suddenly radioactive. The rash was so dramatic and so angry that I could feel the rejection searing through me. I knew instinctively that it was from the bad idea jeans (genes) pills. I reached out to my OB and the placenta doula, neither of whom had ever heard of such a reaction. In my leper-like state I went to see a dermatologist in case I needed a steroid to calm the welts. The stately old dermatologist immediately asked me if I ate anything out of the ordinary recently. "No, not that I can think of." "Oh, well, actually, um..."

The Dr. looked at me like I told him I ate my baby, which I guess I sort of did. Thankfully, I didn't need a steroid prescription and the rash went away by itself a few days later. I kind of wish I took a picture of my bumpy body for posterity. Now all I have is this awesome story. Oh, and the baby.

I like the color, but I'm not so sure about the size, mom...

Happy World Breastfeeding Week!

Recently a pregnant friend of mine texted me, "my boobs just started leaking! Why didn't you tell me about this?" Ah, the glamorous life of a pregnant woman. While I didn't enjoy the pleasure of leaving circles on all my tops until after I gave birth, leaking some colostrum is just one of the many eccentricities of pregnancy. After all, you're growing a life inside of you for 9+ months. From scratch! Things are bound to get a little weird. I responded that at least now she knows the boobs are working and milk is a comin'.

In honor of the many friends of mine who are currently baking a baby, I decided to jot down a few things I never knew before I went and got knocked up:

Contraction (in)action--It's possible to have contractions for days on end and not be in labor. This happened to me. For weeks. Weeks! It's called Prodromal Labor and it pretty much sucks. It's a fairly common situation wherein you experience hours (or days, weeks) of regular contractions that are more painful and more consistent than your basic BH contractions. These contractions (which are sometimes known as the beginnings of early labor, or pre-labor) supposedly help prepare your body for active labor, so they aren’t totally in vain. Pretty much like a really long, annoying warm up routine.

Drip dry--Your amniotic fluid doesn't always "break" sometimes it's more like a slow leak. For me, it felt like I was peeing after I was done peeing. This was actually far more pleasant than having it gush out of me on an elevator (my biggest fear), but can be a bit scary as some women leak without even realizing it. Luckily, the amount of amniotic fluid can be measured by an ultrasound so the doctor will be able to determine if there is any danger.

Pee phobia--Speaking of peeing, going number one after giving birth is nearly as scary as pushing out the baby. A nurse, a squirt water bottle, a mess of blood and a giant maxi pad will be involved. At least you get softeners for going number 2. After the first time with each, the pain is (mostly) gone.

There will be blood--The bleeding, unfortunately, sticks around for a while. Some women experience lochia, post-partum shedding of all that extra blood, for up to six weeks. But, you don't have to wear the huge uncomfortable pads the whole time, as the bleeding gets lighter over time and may stop and start.

Sleep, baby, sleep--Once the baby starts gaining weight, you don't have to feed him/her every three hours. If you are lucky enough to have a good sleeper and a good eater, you may gaze lovingly your sleeping beauty but do not touch, poke, prod or otherwise wake the baby. And get yourself to sleep, stat. I was all set to get mine on a set feeding schedule (yeah, right) when I took him home from the hospital. That is, until the doctor at my first visit laughed at me and reminded me "never to wake a sleeping baby."

PP PD--Your period could start again while you are nursing. And, you CAN get pregnant while nursing full time even before your period starts. I've met a few too many babies less than 18 months apart to believe they were all on purpose. Your body will likely take a few months to regulate itself with all the hormonal changes so unless you want some Irish twins, use protection.

Get In My Belly--You will be hungrier and thirstier than ever before when breastfeeding. I never had any food cravings when pregnant (which actually freaked me out at times) but I couldn't get the food down my throat fast enough when I first started nursing my little vampire. Cookies, cakes, muffins, anything baked had to be consumed by the fistful. It calmed down after the first month or two, but I still need to drink almost a gallon of water per day. I am thirsty all the damn time. And, I pee all the damn time.

Hearing things--Some time after you get used to the sound of your baby's cry, you start hearing it. All. The. Time. This phantom cry was the freakiest thing for me in the first few weeks. I would hear him crying in my dreams, in the shower, sometimes even when I was out of the house. I guess it has something to do with being hypersensitive to the sound in case you need to rescue the baby from a massive blowout poop or an alien invasion.


But, of course, nothing can really prepare you for that magical moment when that baby is pushed, pulled or lifted into this world. Good luck, ladies, and remember to take the disposable underwear!

I still see this face all the time

40 Weeks!

As a girl who tries her hardest to be early and often fails by a few minutes, I shouldn’t be at all surprised that my baby seems to want to come later than expected. I stupidly told everyone that I thought I would be early (based on some misguided notion that I could will it so because my mom was early with her three kids).

Apparently, you can’t coax babies out of you on demand. Of course, I tried all the “natural” induction remedies suggested by midwives, doctors, moms and anyone else with an opinion and access to the internet. Just a tip-raspberry leaf tea, labor tinctures, sex, evening primrose oil, pineapple, spicy foods, walking, climbing stairs and all the other methods–don’t really work. Despite your best (and sometimes incredibly uncomfortable) efforts, your body isn’t going to go into labor until it’s actually ready. Unfortunately, for many women this is after the due date and may even pose some risks necessitating in a medical induction. I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that for me, but I am starting to get a little scared of the baby getting even bigger in the womb over the next week or two. Although I am realistic and flexible, my natural birth plan does not include delivering a 9+ pounder. I know fat baby = healthy baby, but it has to still come out of me. Yikes. How do some women do it?

Just when I had come to terms with the idea of the birth, I’m realizing that I have no idea what’s in store. But, at least I do know that I get to meet my little one in a week or two, one way or another. That more than makes up for this waiting game. For the sake of my sanity and my perineum, let’s just hope he or she is a good swimmer!