The Origin of Human Stress

( This post was written about 7 or 8 months ago...) It's 7am , my room is dark and cozy. I'm wrapped up in my nest of pillows I create each night to support my ever growing belly when "WHAM! " the door flies open, a doctor appears and she turns on the fluorescent lights directly over my head! I immediately went from warmth and happiness to bright lights, noise, and annoyance! It definitely got my blood going and gave me something to grumble about the rest of the morning. This "rude awakening" gave me great empathy for the poor baby growing in my belly. It's happy and content. It's got prime reality. It's warm, dark, quiet...perfect. But in three months my little peanut will be evicted without warning and forced to face the cold, bright, noisy world! No wonder babies cry when they are born...its not just about taking their first breath, they are ticked off! What a way to enter the world, mad and stressed. This,I'm afraid, is only the beginning. Being a human is stressful. From the moment of birth you are trying to live up to others expectations . We all know that the first thing the doctors give a newborn baby is a score. It's not in the world but one tiny minute and it is already being judged! You see there just isn't any way we can escape the pressure to be great, its forced upon us. I wonder if over achievers and underachievers are formed right there, in that moment, depending on their APGAR score.Hmmm...something to think about. If being born is difficult just wait, it just gets progressively harder. Now the newborn is expected to learn ...everything! They have to learn to hold their heads up, recognize people, smile, eat, control their body spasms, and figure out what day and night are all about. It's no wonder babies cry so much , its an overwhelming amount of responsibility for such a tiny person. It's not fair if you ask me. Human beings are at the top of the food chain, a superior species. You would think that we could get a break and be born knowing how to do something right off the bat. Giraffes fall from their mother and can walk almost immediately. I don't think we look too superior! Why does it take us SO long to learn things? I think secretly all the other animals God has created are probably laughing at us for being such slow learners! Of course we can laugh right back, because , although it may feel like it at times, we don't live in zoos, we don't have to kill our dinner every night, and we have those cool opposable thumbs! So there wild kingdom! I think I know the reason why we don't remember too much until after we are 2 years old. The reminder of how hard it was in the beginning would throw us into a tailspin and make us completely incapacitated.No one would want to go on! God knew what he was doing-he gave us natural anesthesia. Sometimes I wish it didn't wear off when I was a toddler. I could use it now and then. But I do have a substitute and its name is chocolate! Okay, so the baby survived tummy time with its face pressed into the Boppy . Now its on to bigger things. Sitting , grabbing, rolling over, pulling up ( are we raising people or circus animals with all of these tricks?),feeding its self ,walking, falling, walking again, talking, learning to not pee on themselves, the list goes on and on and on. It is such a good thing that children are mental sponges and relatively good multitaskers. They have to keep all that new info they learn filed away in their little mental file cabinets. Granted,the cabinets are pretty empty so its easy to recall the info. (My "file cabinet", on the other hand, is a mess. I'm a clutter bug and have so much in there that I can't find what I'm looking for half the time! Things are never "stored" where they should be ...much like my house.Sometimes it amazes me that I walk and chew gum at the same time!) If you made a list of all the things that you are expected to know or do in your life it would be quite long, I'm sure. It's enough to make you shudder. Do you think I could have my baby born in the dark, immediately wrapped in a Snuggi, with teeny tiny earphones placed on its head? I just want the first minutes of life to be comfortable before it gets thrown to the lions. Humans have so much stress that we don't realize. ( Can you imagine? I have so much stress that I DO realize!) But, we have to remember that God won't give us more than we can handle, we are strong. And when it feels like we are about to crumble we can remember one very important thing God has done for us....He gave us chocolate.

My U. I. ( Unfortunate Incarceration)

" Nobody knows the trouble I've seen..." It was bound to happen, my incarceration that is. My body had not been behaving and had put me on bed rest( aka minimum security) for a week. I thought that as long as we were good prisoners and "Ms. Cerv." stayed out of trouble we would be just fine. Bed rest at home wasn't so bad. I could still micromanage my family from across the house. No problem! I'd hear a loud crash and I'd yell "What was that ? Are you okay?" Knowing full well I couldn't help. The toilet in the hall outside my bedroom would flush, but the faucet wouldn't go on so I'd yell " Wash your hands! Wash your hands!" like a maniac until SOMEONE complied. But, even being a model " inmate" I knew my dream of minimum security was going down the drain. Every time I was granted "leave" for a doctor's appointment I would pack my bag and kiss my babies...just in case. This last week , while sitting with the warden ...uh...doctor I was told the bad news. "Ms. Cerv." was up to her old tricks and it was going to land me in the hospital...the big house...maximum security! I cried and cried at the warden hoping for some leniency . He said I may be granted parole in a few days. I reluctantly went. I got my prison bracelet, prison uniform, and the all comfy prison bed. The Four Seasons this was not! Of course never having been the Four Seasons I can't really compare. A few days went by, my contractions stopped and the doctor was ready to sign my release. I said " Not yet!". The hospital is no fun, but at least it is safe. I wanted another ultrasound before I was ready to face society again as a free citizen.The news was a little better after the last ultrasound, but still not out of the scary zone. Here it is quiet. I can get in and out of bed with out the help of a step stool. I don't stress( too much) about what is going on in my house..besides we'll just have a boot camp when I get home to undo any damage. I don't have to sit in the doctor's office 3-6 hours for an appointment and best of all I'm giving my baby ...God's gift...a chance at survival. So for now, I will bang my plastic cup against my bed rails, sing my sad songs , and keep a tally of my days served. For my baby's sake I hope it is a long sentence. As for me, some may worry that I will lose my mind, but those who know me well know that it was lost years ago!

A Mother's Day Away....

Today I decided to get away from my family for an entire seven hours!!! Isn't that wonderful? Of course it would be, if I were shopping or catching a movie, but I was at the doctor. I was lucky enough to be able to get an appointment with my perinatologist on a day where they were overbooked and short staffed! Just what a pregnant woman needs...sit in a chair for hours, deprive themselves of food and water, and read outdated magazines with goodness knows what kind of germs crawling all over them! Once the nurse finally called my name I was thrilled!Could this really be it? Will my appointment finally begin? I have to admit I was a little giddy. I even planned what I would go get for lunch on the way home.She weighed me, took my blood pressure and then led me to another room. I was a little disoriented when I walked through the door and saw everyone who had walked through the door before me! I screamed in my head "NOOOOOO!" ( or maybe that was just my stomach growling) Anyway, we were in waiting room number two.I was starting to wonder how many waiting rooms I would have to endure . Different magazines , same bordeom. After about another 45 minutes I was ready for my ultrasound. That's when the party really got started! I was there to have them look at my cervix, but I forgot how much fun my uterine abnormalities are for ultrasound techs. It's kind of like a side show! The tech called in a resident doctor. Then she said " I'm sure other people will want to see this , I'll be right back." She went out the door and was gone for a good while . I couldn't see much through the crack of the door, but I think I saw her giving out tickets. A few minutes later I swear I heard "Ultrasound , party of 4"...of course this could have been my ears playing tricks on me. At this point I had missed lunch and you know how that can mess up a pregnant woman. So...4 people came in to check out today's Feture Presentation "Christine's womb: a reproductive story". I understand that this office is a teaching clinic and since I am so unique they wanted to use me as a teachable moment. Being an educator, I'm all for teachable moments, but when you are in various stages of undress with a ton of ultrasound goo smeared on your belly ,its just a little hard to get on the education bandwagon. After the party was over and all of the little uterus gawkers had cleared the room I was in for more waiting! I waited to get into the room to see the doctor and then I waited to actually see the doctor. Luckily I had some Tic Tacs in my purse for lunch . After all this time the doctor told me that although my cervix was short, it was not short enough! What?!! I can't win..not long enough, not short enough. I feel like such a failure. I hate hearing I'm not "good" enough. He said that it neeed to get shorter before he could sew it shut. But, here's the catch...I only had 2 weeks for it to shrink.After that they couldn't do the procedure. I am even more confused than ever! Do I pray that it doesn't shrink ? If it doesn't and I miss the window it could be problematic. I would still have 12 weeks for the silly thing to disappear which would definately land me in the hospital. Or...do I pray that it shrinks small enough, but not too small , so that the doc can sew me up and hope that it doesn't cause me to go into labor , cause infections..etc...etc. Wow! Talk about a rock and a hard place. Very confused. Not that I have much control over it anyway! At least after this marathon doctors appointment I was able to get him to take pity on me and give me a piece of pizza which he had just ordered for his staff. ( I'm pretty good at puppy dog eyes.) And the best part is that next week I get to go to not one...but two doctor's appointments! Woo hooo! I better bring a big book to read, do you think War and Peace will be long enough?

Oh cervix...why have you forsaken me?

As many of you know, I am 5 1/2 months pregnant with baby number four. I have had three preterm labors, two preterm babies( one born 16 weeks early), and one very long hospital stay for bed rest. And, it is starting all over again with this baby. I just don't do things simply. What fun would that be? I like to shake things up every few years, cause great anxiety to myself,throw my household into a tizzy, inconvenience my extended family who has to come and take over with the other children, and drug myself with medicine while I cross my toes, fingers,and eyelashes that the baby doesn't come early. I know strange way to break up the hum drum of normal life. I agree...its getting old. Maybe next time I want a thrill I'll just go to Disney World. My doctor told me yesterday that I should be in the hospital. My cervix is just basically trying to disappear. My dear doctor said that I don't have a traditional "incompetent cervix". He says mine is just "uncooperative". What? Is saying "uncooperative" just more P.C.? I know it is harse to call something "incompetent" , but come on I don't think it will hurt the poor cervix's feelings or cause its self esteem to go down. Let's just call it what it is. What do you do for an uncooperative cervix anyway? When I have a child who is uncooperative there is usually a punishment or time out involved. I don't just sit back and let it continue! Although I have tried, I don't think lecturing the thing will help a bit, but it does make me feel a tiny bit better to yell at it.(It's just hard to explain when I get caught.) I'm going to talk to my doctor about a possible cerclage. A cerclage is when they surgically put a stitch in the cervix to keep it closed. Heck, I'm willing to have anything installed. Bring on the zipper,button, super glue, staples, whatever it takes to keep the silly thing shut. Wouldn't it be cool if Mc Gyver was an OB/GYN? Right there in the office he would have whipped out his duct tape, a shoelace, paperclip, and a gum wrapper and I'd be all set! Everything would be locked up tighter than Fort Knox. That would be great, but it would be pretty hard to explain when it came time for delivery. All kidding aside...if this is one of the crosses I need to bear in life , I will. I have inconvenient pregnancies for sure, but I also have three beautiful children. I thank God for that blessing many times a day. I know many women are not as fortunate. I will continue to pray. I'll pray that my baby makes it to full term, that I don't have to go to the hospital, that I can get the cerclage, and that my incompetent ( yep, I said it ) cervix will get a clue !

Warning...dirty talk ahead!

Poop. That's my topic today. You might think you want to stop reading now, but you won't, because everyone...at least mothers have a sick hidden interest with poop. Don't try to deny it, we all know its true. We can't help it. It comes with the title of "Mommy". Remember way back in the good old days, when you and your spouse were dating? So many laughs were shared and in depth conversations were had about topics ranging from politics to religion to literature? Okay, maybe not ALL your conversations were that cerebral, but I'm sure a few were. Probably only 1% of your conversations contained any poo content at all. And those that did you probably were too intoxicated to remember so they don't count! You were a normal adult. But then the beautiful day comes when your first child is born. It is an incredibly moving experience which changes your life for the better in so many ways. But what you never expected are the other changes that happen to you when you give birth. Being a mom comes with a unusually large amount of poo curiosity. Maybe the elevated hormone levels bring it on, but nevertheless ...its there. When you have a newborn, you ask questions about it. " It was WHAT color?" "How much ?" " He did WHAT with it?" You show concern at the doctors when there is too little or too much. You even talk to friends and family about it as if it was a totally exceptable thing to do. Your "ick" filter is gone! Then-the glorious day comes when your child begins to potty train. Now, instead of asking questions about it you cheer everytime some of it lands in the potty. I mean REALLY cheer. My Pup is potty trained...practically. And while this gives me great joy I find that we talk about poo in a totally new and frankly...disturbing way. When my little one deposits in the potty , he looks at it and compares the shape to ...food. I know gross, right? He's had pickle poo, grape poo and carrot poo. Of course he will be the first to wisely tell you NOT to eat it or it will "make you throw up" . True true my friend. True, true. At night, when my husband comes home I find myself eagerly saying " Tell Daddy what you did today." Of course I'm not talking about a picture he drew or a story he told but rather of what he did in the potty. It's a sickness I tell you . One that has to stop, however I see no end in sight. Most mothers are cured of this curiosity when the potty training stage is over . If not cured, at least the curiosity goes dormant. That is unless you are like me, caught in vicious cycle of dirty diapers. As soon as I get one child trained I go and birth another one! So, in a few months I will start all over. Same questions , different child. I just hope that if one day my children come to me and tell me that they have won a Nobel Prize, or found a cure for cancer that I will react with the appropriate amount of enthusiasm. Wouldn't it be horrible to think that your mother was more excited about you doing #2 in the toilet then the fact that you stopped global warming?