My Water Broke?

On December 30, Wil and I were desperately trying to get Ari to take a nap, but (as usual) he refused. I was tossing and turning myself, trying to sleep. But I couldn't because I was having contractions every 6 minutes. Could this be labor? I thought. I was only 35 weeks! I told Wil that I officially couldn't sleep and was off to call my midwife.

My midwife suggested that I might be dehydrated and to drink two glasses of water rather quickly and call her in 30 minutes. Being the overachiever I am, I drank not two but three glasses of water. Naturally, I had to pee rather soon afterward. After I finished peeing, I noticed that more liquid was continuing to come.

I was alarmed and immediately removed my pajama pants. I ran to the living room, and all at once a gush of liquid fell out of me.

"Um...my water just broke!" I exclaimed to Wil.
"I'm having deja vu." Wil said a with a chuckle.

It was oh so similar to what happened when I went into labor with Ari just two 1/2 years ago.

Another call to my midwife, and we rushed out of the apartment, Wil dug the car out of the snow, and off we drove to her office. On the way, I called my great friend Livvy, who is a Doula-in-training, and she met us there.

We all arrived there, and after a quick exam, my midwife determined that my water was not broken. I was so confused.
After I peed into a cup, it was confirmed that I had a UTI (Urinary Tract Infection) and, as turned out, that the gush of fluid was none other than pee.

Unlike my first labor story, this time I did pee on myself.

Why?

"Ari, don't put clay on your chalkboard."
"Why?"
"Because it doesn't belong there."
"Why?"
"Because you play with clay at the table, not on the chalkboard."
"Why?"
"Please stop asking 'why?' I don't have another answer."
"Why?"
"Grrrr!"

Anyone else experiencing this?

The Waiting Game

Hanukkah is over, Christmas has past, and 2011 is fast approaching. I'm preoccupied with another matter, the impending arrival of my 2nd child. I'm so tired of being pregnant. Here the things associated with pregnancy that are irritating me the most at the moment:

• The conspicuous egg-like attachment to the front of my body- yes, there's a person in there, and I know, I know "pregnancy is beautiful," but you know what? I'm over it! I want her out of my body and in the world. NOW!
• My raging hormones and (consequently) pronounced and seemingly uncontrollable mood swings.
• Hemorrhoids, one of them is so big that I think it could run for public office. I've asked it, aloud, to leave but it insists in belongs on me.
• I'm exhausted and in constant pain in my back and legs all the time.
• It takes me 80,000 times longer to get anywhere, because I have to waddle there as opposed to walking, driving or using public transportation.

I'm ready to take some castor oil and get this party started and I'm only 35 weeks.

For those of you that have been pregnant before, do you remember feeling this way?

I'm a Drill Sergeant ...I Mean a Mom!

I had a realization today. Ari is getting away with a lot. There are several reasons for this:

1. I'm 8 1/2 months pregnant and too tired to fight with him
2. Two-year-olds are inherently exhausting creatures
3. Being a mom takes discipline and I just want to take a big old nap.

Do you see a running theme here? Exhaustion!

Today I decided I was going to stop this pattern of indifference due to chronic fatigue. Today was the day I was going to take charge.


He wanted to watch TV first thing in the morning.
"NO." I said plainly. "We're going to eat breakfast!"
He wanted to watch TV again after breakfast.
"NO." I replied "We're going to the library."
He wanted to go home after the library.
"NO." I told him. "We're going to the playground!"
He ran around at the playground and when it was time to go home, didn't want to leave.
"Bye!" I said waving to him at the gate, he followed me with no hesitation.
When we got home, He refused to eat lunch and demanded chocolate milk.
"NO chocolate milk. Eat your sandwich first!" He screamed, cried and finally he begrudging ate his peanut butter sandwich on whole wheat and an entire apple.
He wanted to watch TV again!
"NO, play with your cars." I instructed him. "Then in 15 minutes you are going to take a nap." He whined, screamed and eventually played with his cars.
15 minutes later I said:
"Okay, it's time to take a nap."
"I want to nap on the chair." He was sitting in the most uncomfortable chair in our apartment.
"No, you need to nap in the bed." I advised him.
I carried him literally kicking and screaming to the bed and he fell asleep next to Wil.

Based upon today's events, I think I could easily have a career in the military. No?

Labor Gown

I was feeling an intense urge to buy something so I went over to visit my friend Amazon.com and found this:

"What is it?" You might be thinking. Well, it's a disposable labor gown! Now, I'm not the type of person who needs to look put together all the time, but for some reason this thing really appealed to me.

When I think back to my labor with Ari, I was wearing this hot little number:

I mean, surely you see the aesthetic difference. The more attractive labor gown (pictured above) boasts that it is 100% cotton, very comfortable, and has room for "fetal monitors" and "IV cords." I plan on doing a home birth, so hopefully I won't have to worry about such things.

Anyway, for $20, I figured, why the hell not?

Although, I will say, that by the end of my labor with Ari, I wanted nothing to do with my hospital gown and ripped the entire thing off when I was ready to push. We'll see if that happens again this time.

What was your latest impulse purchase?

Why I Love My Mom- *Content Contains Gross Bodily Functions- Beware!

Last night I couldn't sleep. It was 1am, then it was (all of a sudden) 2am. Wil was at work. I was dizzy, nauseated, and my heartburn was terrible. I was tasting and re-tasting the chili I made for dinner. Ari was knocked out on the couch, and I wanted to follow suit but I just could not sleep. The baby was swimming around in my uterus at a rapid pace, looking for a suitable organ to kick.

Finally, I relented and called my mom.
"Mom, I can't sleep. I feel like I'm going to vomit, but I can't."

It was 2:30am. She didn't hesitate. She climbed three flights of stairs to my apartment, and sat by my side as I threw up the entire contents of my stomach into a white plastic garbage can.

Meanwhile Ari was shouting:
"Mommy! You no throw up!"
"It's okay, honey," My mom said to Ari as I was detoxing my system "Mommy is going to be okay."

I'm okay. But it's only because of my amazing mother.

Thank you mom! I love you!

Mom Guilt: Share Your Stories

Yesterday my nine year old niece, Francesca, (or as Ari calls her "Ches-ca") came over for a play date. Ari and Ches-ca were painting, Wil and my mom were watching them create their collaborative work of art, and I was cooking chili in the kitchen. All of a sudden Wil called across the apartment:

"Sarah, what did Ari eat today?"
"Why?" I asked suspiciously.
"Because he's throwing up." He replied.


I dropped the knife I was using to cut an onion and bolted from the kitchen to the living room. When I got there, Ari had thrown up more than a college frat boy.

"How did he get sick again?" Wil asked. Ari just got over having Croup, and now he appears to be sick again.

He woke up with a fever in the middle of the night last night and vomited for the second time. I've concluded he has a virus. But Wil's question stayed in my head: "How did he get sick again?"

My internal answer is to blame myself. He wasn't dressed well enough for this 27 degree weather, he needs warmer pants, long underwear, He's not eating enough, he's not eating well, I'm taking him to germ infested places like the library and communal play spaces.

Whatever the case may be, it is most certainly my fault that he's sick. This is what I like to call mom guilt. I'd like to think I come by it honestly with my Jewish heritage, but I think mom guilt transcends cultural boundaries.

As mothers, if something "goes wrong" with our kids, we blame ourselves. Who else do we have to blame?

What I want to know is, what do you feel guilty about? Post a comment with a story where you felt particularly guilty. By the way, guilt is not exclusive to moms, dad guilt is alive and well. Dads: please share your stories too!