Well, it looks like Mr. Gracie Oliver has started to pack his bags, and so have we.
At our 39 week check-up with Dr. Park yesterday, we were shocked to learn that he has now dropped! -- I say "shocked" because all week I had been telling everyone who asked: "Nope, absolutely no labor symptoms yet!" In fact, later that night back at home, I googled, "what contractions feel like" -- wondering if I'd be one of those women who didn't realize I had gone into labor (I know we will look back on this and laugh... well, I can still hope).
So all good signs at Yeon and Nature: good first pelvic exam, non-stress test went well (which continues to fascinate me... I'm definitely of the belief that my emotions and own level of stress impacts the baby in utero -- until last week, when Tyler and I were literally in the middle of a fight during the non-stress test; and shockingly Gracie's heartbeat was still all within normal range); healthy baby weight at 8.08 pounds (quite a relief he seems to have shifted to the mean after quite a fast rise earlier on in the pregnancy... of course, an ajumma ("grandmother") at the pool yesterday asked me if I was having twins!).
The one slightly worrying aspect was that my blood pressure was high. After multiple readings (both by machine and manually), we were taken upstairs for observation. This was when I realized without a doubt we had chosen the right place to deliver. We basically stayed in the equivalent of a nice hotel room and had a nice "staycation" for a couple of hours yesterday afternoon. Tyler told the midwife I was hungry, and five minutes later, she emerged with a full Korean feast room-service style: seaweed soup, a bowl of bulgogi beef, sheets of seaweed (gim, which has been comfort food for me since middle school, with my high school best friend's grandmother making batch after batch, which we would inhale with rice while gossiping about boys), rice, and spinach seasoned with sesame seeds. After the feast, I meditated and then we napped, with a midwife coming in every so often and checking my blood pressure. Once it was back to normal, I was free to go -- meanwhile completely rested up and ready to go about my day!
What continues to shock me is the dichotomy between going about our day and doing all our "normal" activities (yesterday included swimming, shopping, catching up with Katie and Andrew over FaceTime, discovering Magnolia Bakery in Seoul (!) and watching Les Mis at home), with also this feeling that wow, this can happen anytime...
And similar to the feelings I shared in my last post, I have mixed feelings about all of this. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely cannot wait to meet little Mr. Gracie Oliver (Tyler had a talk with him the other night that started, "I know this is kindda confusing, but we're going to name you something different when you are born. You'll kind-of have a say in what that will be.")
But at the same time, I really kindda love being pregnant. The mornings when I stir awake and feel him kicking, and it's still dark and quiet and feels like we're the only ones awake, with Tyler softly sleepily breathing next to us... well, it's kindda magical. I love feeling his kicks (which have gotten pretty strong) and still giggle when he gets the hiccups. He makes us laugh when my belly isn't quite symmetrical (Tyler tells him that his house-building skills need some work); and it's fun learning his musical tastes (so far: Les Mis, lion songs, and the Viennese boys choir). Even things that should be annoying (like him kicking my bladder when I pee) makes me laugh because I picture him kicking down to make it go faster and make more room for himself.
When I was reading Amy Cuddy's book, Presence: Bringing Your Boldest Self to Your Biggest Challenges (based on her TED talk, which is easily one of my top five favorites), I couldn't help but think of the relevance to pregnancy. Her basic thesis (which she has proved through countless experiments and research) is that assuming "power positions" and essentially "making yourself bigger" helps you bring your most authentic self forward. Contrast the "ladylike" way to sit and carry oneself (crossing your legs, making yourself small, and generally taking up little space) versus how one is forced to carry oneself when pregnant: sitting with legs spread further apart, sitting up straight and generally unapologetically taking up more space by sheer definition of being pregnant. Over the last nine months, I've found myself being much more "in my body", more comfortable in my skin (despite how non-intuitive that sounds), and less socially anxious and concerned with what others think. Who knows if there's a relation in terms of inadvertent "power posing", but certainly an intriguing thought.
This whole time, all I've heard was that once I reached 39-40 weeks, I'd feel so miserable that I'd want the baby to come out any way possible (which was how most people seemed to deal with all the society-spread fears of the pain of childbirth). But somehow, that just hasn't happened. I've continued to swim and do yoga three times a week and generally feel great (except that putting on my boots has gotten continually harder -- even after buying a pair that had no ties or zippers). Plus, all I keep reading is how the baby will come out when he wants to -- and how rushing birth by induction can lead to all sorts of complications.
And thus, the mixed feelings I talk about. On the one hand, I'm just fine waiting -- 41 or even 42 weeks if we have to (not to brag, but I think 3 year old Trish would have rocked the marshmallow test). I've recently learned that only five percent of babies are actually born on their due date (which for us has shifted from January 17th to January 20th), with first pregnancies particularly prone to "running late" - as is delivering baby boys, for some unknown reason).
But it's also a conundrum about what's best for Gracie. My amniotic fluid is dropping (which is normal at this stage), but nonetheless, the doctor has brought up the potential of inducing tomorrow (tomorrow!!) if it continues to drop for fear of placing undue stress on the baby. Needless to say, I have been madly hydrating myself all weekend.
And so has begun a weekend chock full of "home remedies" for natural induction (while Tyler usually chides me for trying ten different things at the same time to solve one problem (and thus never knowing what really solved it), this time he is on board with doing "all the things!!!")
That said, a little order of operations never hurts. Eggplant parm or castor oil enema?! -- that's an easy one (though neither of us thought it would take us a full three hours to make!) This recipe is from a restaurant in Georgia called Scalini's, who offers a free dinner to any woman who gives birth within 24 hours of having the dish -- the restaurant is apparently adorned with hundreds of pictures of happily eggplant-induced babies:
Post-dinner was all about learning how to breast pump (which I outsourced to Tyler, as is usual for all things mechanical)... and today I just came from a massage that specializes in pressure points to help induce labor (both of these resulted in mini-contractions within minutes of starting, which is pretty incredible). We both laughed at the "pump in style" name brand -- no part of the process felt stylish to me, but it seems to somehow be working!
So all this was a long way of saying.... any day now!!! We're ready for you, little buddy.
At our 39 week check-up with Dr. Park yesterday, we were shocked to learn that he has now dropped! -- I say "shocked" because all week I had been telling everyone who asked: "Nope, absolutely no labor symptoms yet!" In fact, later that night back at home, I googled, "what contractions feel like" -- wondering if I'd be one of those women who didn't realize I had gone into labor (I know we will look back on this and laugh... well, I can still hope).
So all good signs at Yeon and Nature: good first pelvic exam, non-stress test went well (which continues to fascinate me... I'm definitely of the belief that my emotions and own level of stress impacts the baby in utero -- until last week, when Tyler and I were literally in the middle of a fight during the non-stress test; and shockingly Gracie's heartbeat was still all within normal range); healthy baby weight at 8.08 pounds (quite a relief he seems to have shifted to the mean after quite a fast rise earlier on in the pregnancy... of course, an ajumma ("grandmother") at the pool yesterday asked me if I was having twins!).
The one slightly worrying aspect was that my blood pressure was high. After multiple readings (both by machine and manually), we were taken upstairs for observation. This was when I realized without a doubt we had chosen the right place to deliver. We basically stayed in the equivalent of a nice hotel room and had a nice "staycation" for a couple of hours yesterday afternoon. Tyler told the midwife I was hungry, and five minutes later, she emerged with a full Korean feast room-service style: seaweed soup, a bowl of bulgogi beef, sheets of seaweed (gim, which has been comfort food for me since middle school, with my high school best friend's grandmother making batch after batch, which we would inhale with rice while gossiping about boys), rice, and spinach seasoned with sesame seeds. After the feast, I meditated and then we napped, with a midwife coming in every so often and checking my blood pressure. Once it was back to normal, I was free to go -- meanwhile completely rested up and ready to go about my day!
What continues to shock me is the dichotomy between going about our day and doing all our "normal" activities (yesterday included swimming, shopping, catching up with Katie and Andrew over FaceTime, discovering Magnolia Bakery in Seoul (!) and watching Les Mis at home), with also this feeling that wow, this can happen anytime...
And similar to the feelings I shared in my last post, I have mixed feelings about all of this. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely cannot wait to meet little Mr. Gracie Oliver (Tyler had a talk with him the other night that started, "I know this is kindda confusing, but we're going to name you something different when you are born. You'll kind-of have a say in what that will be.")
But at the same time, I really kindda love being pregnant. The mornings when I stir awake and feel him kicking, and it's still dark and quiet and feels like we're the only ones awake, with Tyler softly sleepily breathing next to us... well, it's kindda magical. I love feeling his kicks (which have gotten pretty strong) and still giggle when he gets the hiccups. He makes us laugh when my belly isn't quite symmetrical (Tyler tells him that his house-building skills need some work); and it's fun learning his musical tastes (so far: Les Mis, lion songs, and the Viennese boys choir). Even things that should be annoying (like him kicking my bladder when I pee) makes me laugh because I picture him kicking down to make it go faster and make more room for himself.
When I was reading Amy Cuddy's book, Presence: Bringing Your Boldest Self to Your Biggest Challenges (based on her TED talk, which is easily one of my top five favorites), I couldn't help but think of the relevance to pregnancy. Her basic thesis (which she has proved through countless experiments and research) is that assuming "power positions" and essentially "making yourself bigger" helps you bring your most authentic self forward. Contrast the "ladylike" way to sit and carry oneself (crossing your legs, making yourself small, and generally taking up little space) versus how one is forced to carry oneself when pregnant: sitting with legs spread further apart, sitting up straight and generally unapologetically taking up more space by sheer definition of being pregnant. Over the last nine months, I've found myself being much more "in my body", more comfortable in my skin (despite how non-intuitive that sounds), and less socially anxious and concerned with what others think. Who knows if there's a relation in terms of inadvertent "power posing", but certainly an intriguing thought.
This whole time, all I've heard was that once I reached 39-40 weeks, I'd feel so miserable that I'd want the baby to come out any way possible (which was how most people seemed to deal with all the society-spread fears of the pain of childbirth). But somehow, that just hasn't happened. I've continued to swim and do yoga three times a week and generally feel great (except that putting on my boots has gotten continually harder -- even after buying a pair that had no ties or zippers). Plus, all I keep reading is how the baby will come out when he wants to -- and how rushing birth by induction can lead to all sorts of complications.
And thus, the mixed feelings I talk about. On the one hand, I'm just fine waiting -- 41 or even 42 weeks if we have to (not to brag, but I think 3 year old Trish would have rocked the marshmallow test). I've recently learned that only five percent of babies are actually born on their due date (which for us has shifted from January 17th to January 20th), with first pregnancies particularly prone to "running late" - as is delivering baby boys, for some unknown reason).
But it's also a conundrum about what's best for Gracie. My amniotic fluid is dropping (which is normal at this stage), but nonetheless, the doctor has brought up the potential of inducing tomorrow (tomorrow!!) if it continues to drop for fear of placing undue stress on the baby. Needless to say, I have been madly hydrating myself all weekend.
And so has begun a weekend chock full of "home remedies" for natural induction (while Tyler usually chides me for trying ten different things at the same time to solve one problem (and thus never knowing what really solved it), this time he is on board with doing "all the things!!!")
That said, a little order of operations never hurts. Eggplant parm or castor oil enema?! -- that's an easy one (though neither of us thought it would take us a full three hours to make!) This recipe is from a restaurant in Georgia called Scalini's, who offers a free dinner to any woman who gives birth within 24 hours of having the dish -- the restaurant is apparently adorned with hundreds of pictures of happily eggplant-induced babies:
Post-dinner was all about learning how to breast pump (which I outsourced to Tyler, as is usual for all things mechanical)... and today I just came from a massage that specializes in pressure points to help induce labor (both of these resulted in mini-contractions within minutes of starting, which is pretty incredible). We both laughed at the "pump in style" name brand -- no part of the process felt stylish to me, but it seems to somehow be working!
So all this was a long way of saying.... any day now!!! We're ready for you, little buddy.
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