This is a bit overdue

But I just couldn't find the time until now.  Having 2 kids is ten times harder than having one.  But better late than never.

So, I had my baby in the car.  As my best friend put it when talking to her friend from Pennsylvania: "that's how they do it here in Georgia.  They have their babies in their husband's pick up trucks. "  But let's start at the begining.  

I went to the midwife for a regular appointment the day before and when she checked me, she said my cervix was really thin.  This gave me hope as my due date was the next day and I didn't want any pressure to induce labor.  I wanted to go as natural as possible.  I'd been faithfully listening to my "hypnobabies" scripts and reading my workbook (this is a childbirth technique that uses hypnosis to cope with birthing.  Ideally, you are supposed to have a pain free birth check this out if you are interested  http://deanaryan.wordpress.com/2008/06/12/dateline-hypnosis-during-childbirth/).  

So on the way home from the hospital, I began to feel "something."  Since with my first one the water broke first and we just went to the hospital and they had to "help" me along a little, I didn't have much to compare this feeling to.  I just sort of thought, "hmmmm.  this might be something."  I kept feeling this little something, which, true to the hypnosis scripts I'd been practicing, was indeed pressure.  Just a little.  But I noticed, and I thought, well, I might have a baby tomorrow.  But I didn't get to excited, since sometimes labor (or "birthing time" as we call it with hypnobabies) starts and stops a little in the begining.  

By ten o'clock, though, I was watching the clock, and noticing that I was feeling these "pressure waves" (another hypnobabies term) somewhat regularly, about every 10 minutes.  I told my husband I thought I might have the baby tomorrow.  That night I went to sleep listening to my hypnobabies.  By the time I was falling asleep the pressure waves were enough to wake me up but I went right back to sleep after each one.  At 4 o'clock I woke up and the waves were too intense to sleep through anymore.  I laid there and watched the clock.  Every 5 minutes, pretty much exactly.  I laid there for a little while, thinking, "wow, this hypnosis stuff really does work." Well, sort of.  Part of me was also saying, "this can't really be it.  It doesn't hurt at all.  I've got a while to go."   All I was feeling was pressure.  So I updated my facebook and myspace status.  I put something like "I'm having this baby today."  I put off waking up my hubby, since I knew he wouldn't go back to sleep.  Eventually I did, or thought I did, but he'd been awake since he heard me flush the toilet.  He knew something was up after that.  I told him to go back to sleep b/c I thought I had until the afternoon.  Wishful thinking.  I wanted to go to the hospital after morning rush hour and deliver shortly after I got there.  When Miguel got ready to take Eowyn to his family's house to stay while we were at the hospital, he suggested I go ahead and go to the hospital.  I didn't want to though b/c I really wanted a natural birth and wanted to stay home as long as possible.  So he left with her, after I said an emotional goodbye to her, knowing that the next time I saw her, she wouldn't be my only child anymore.  I had already called my parents to tell them and my mom said she'd come stay with me at the house until we left for the hospital.  I said not to rush.  I had plenty of time.  I was still listening to my hypnobabies while making brownies for the nurses (this is another hypnobabies thing).  By the time I was almost done the waves were getting really intense and I decided to try to enter hypnosis.  I got on the birth ball and did my best but I may have waited a little too long.  Now it was begining to hurt.  I made sure I had everyting I needed packed and ready.  Before too long I was moaning and wishing Miguel would hurry up b/c I couldn't WAIT to go get an epidural :).   I had all these great intentions but it's just not that easy.  When he got home I was in the bathroom moaning and I told him I was ready and to get everything in the car.  Once I got out and was putting the dog in the crate a wave hit me and I leaned over and grabbed the crate and rocked back and forth moaning and trying not to scream.  The poor dog was probably terrified.  I considered staying home b/c I was starting to think I might not have long to go and did not want to get in the truck where I couldn't move around to cope with the waves but I knew I had to get going.  When I got outside another one hit me and I leaned over the hood of the car and stayed as quiet as I could in order not to alarm the whole neighborhood.  Miguel was like "get in the truck!" but I told him I wanted to wait until the last minute.  My mom pulled up just as we were pulling out and said she'd follow us to the hospital.  Little did I know we lost her at the first traffic light but this would later prove to be a good thing.  I tried and tried to enter hypnosis but I'm not sure I ever made it.  I did however manage to stay as calm as I could by reminding myself that nothing bad was going to happen to me.  You do begin to become afraid b/c you can't imagine being in that much pain and not dying.  That is why support is so key if you want a natural labor.  I began to say, over and over every time one came: "Icandoit Icandoit Icandoit I can DO ITTTTTTTTTT!"  I'm sure I sounded like I was trying to convince myself, and indeed I was.  I tried to have Miguel call the midwife, but it was about 8 o'clock, right between answering service and the office opening so we got a machine.  I had to listen and push buttons and pray I'd be able to talk if I actually got someone.  When I finally did, I practically threw the phone at Miguel.  

Not long before we crossed the river, I began to think I was feeling the urge to push.  Uh oh.  With Eowyn I had an epidural so I wasn't completely sure.  Until the next one.  Yep, that's the urge to push alright.  But strangely enough, the sensation changed.  It didn't hurt nearly so bad.  It was still incredibly intense but bearable.  Maybe that's b/c I knew it was almost over.  So much for that epidural.  I was glad though.  I was going to have that natural bith.  Except, it might be in the car.  

People at red lights and bus stops stared as my husband did his best to get through the rush hour traffic with a writhing, moaning, laboring woman.   When my water broke as we went over the river, I realized I'd forgotton to put down towels to sit on incase this very thing happened. Miguel got lost, distracted by me, he claims, as I grabbed hold of his arm during a wave.  He always blames me when we get lost.  

As we drove around the perimeter mall area, I thought to myself, "I'm going to have my baby in the parking lot."  I told Miguel to pull over, but he said "I can't pull over!" Now he had the stress of being lost to add to the stress of wife having baby.  He didn't really believe I was about to have the baby until I ripped off my pants.  What can I say, I can't have the baby in my pants.  I vaugely wondered if my mom was aimlessly driving around Peachtree Dunwoody, thoroughly lost.  She couldn't find her way out of a paper bag.

We did make it to the hospital though.  The security guy thought my husband just another panicked father when he jumped out of the car and said "My wife's having the baby!"  He said, "don't worry son."  My husband responded, "Do something you idiot!"  When Miguel opened my door, I asked him if he could see the baby's head.  Affirmitave.  I knew it was there but I wanted confirmation.  Then here comes someone with a wheelchair.  Um, no.  A baby's head is coming out of me.  Finally I saw the nurses come running out the front door.  They began throwing towels and sheets over the windows of the truck.  I vaugely wondered why.  I could have cared less if a news crew started taping the birth.  One of the nurses told me not to shout (I could have smacked her) and to bear down with the next one.  I complied and out he came, crying just like a good little newborn.  They didn't say right away that he was a boy (they probably thought I knew) so I said "is it a boy or a girl?"  One of the nurses said, "it's a little boy."  I looked at my husband, surprised as I've ever been in my life. "It's a boy?  It's a boy!?"

I didn't believe it till I changed a diaper.

Remember that time you thought you found a dead body?

Oh, that was Friday night.  I was coming home from my parents' house at a little after 10pm.  My house is at the bottom of a pretty steep hill, the last house on the left of a dead end street.  A really dead end.  So dead that if you keep going, you end up in the creek. So as I was about to pull into my driveway, I notice a red car has crashed way back in the trees.  I called my husband to come out and walked over to it with the flashlight.  I went over before he even came out b/c I was really in a hurry to see if there was anyone in the car.   But I was a little trepidacious so I went back and told him to come with me.   I shined my light in through the back of the red Jeep Cherokee and it looked like there wasn't anyone in the car, so I decided to go around the side to see if the driver's side door was open, or if I could get a better look.  Good thing I was wearing my barn boots b/c it was really muddy (it had been raining most of the day and still was a little).   Well, when I got around to that side, I looked into the creek and I saw something in the water.  It was of course high and muddy due to all the rain, so it was hard to tell what that something was.  There were branches blocking the door and I could see no one was in the car.  I looked at this thing in the water and by this time I was getting a little worked up.  It looked like it could be someone's arm and shoulder, clad in a black jacket.  I could almost see part of a hand at the end of what would have been a sleeve.  I told my husband I might have found a body. Then I told him to go check on the baby who was still in the car in his carseat.  I did the only thing I could think to do, I got a long stick to poke it with.  I felt really bad poking it with a stick but how else was I going to know?  I certainly couldn't jump in with the dead body.  Well, like I said, by this time I was pretty worked up and I guess my imagination really got the best of me, and when I touched it, it really felt kind of solid.  Well, that did it.  I went as fast as I could through the wet trees and hauled ass to the garage spewing "God almighty, I think it's a dead body, I really do, Jesus Christ!"  I shakily grabbed my phone and dialed 911, wondering if it was going to be like it always is in my dreams, where either I can't hit the right numbers, or my phone won't work, or the dispatcher asks me some stupid question like what is my social security number.  It worked right though and they sent the cops.  The dispatcher stayed on the phone with me until they got there.  I took the officer to the side of the creek and showed him what I'd seen.  For a second my mind debated: "should I stay and see if it actually is a body?" I quickly decided I really didn't want to see any more than I had of a possible dead body and told the cop I was going back to my children.  And that's what I did.  They came a few minutes later and asked some questions and informed me that that  something was indeed just a piece of trash.  I felt like an idiot, but in a good way.  As freaked out as I was, I did tell the dispatcher that I wasn't entirely sure it was a body, but I wasn't sure it wasn't.   It was a Papa Johns delivery man's car, and some neighbors who came down to see what was going on said that they had seen a Papa Johns guy walking up the street a couple of hours earlier.   Why he didn't try to get his car out, I don't know.  Maybe b/c the front of it was actually in the water.  It took the tow company over an hour and two trucks to get it out.  I feel kinda bad now b/c now the guy will have to get his car out of impound and probably get a ticket.  I only called b/c I thought I'd found a body.  I told my husband, "now this will be just a funny story.  Remember that time you thought you found a dead body?"

Here we go again

Well, I know it's been awhile since I posted, but I have some news. I'm having another baby. According to the extremely scientifically accurate due date calculator on babycenter.com, I should be giving birth on or around Nov 14. So, by Thanksgiving I should have a brand new little bundle of joy. Of course, Miguel's hoping for a boy. I'll be happy either way. I have no idea what her name will be if she's a girl. It was hard enough coming up with the first one. I'll figure it out eventually I guess. I really want a homebirth this time, but my family, and even my husband, are not really up for it. You would think that since I'm the one having the baby that I would be the decision maker here, but it's hard to go against the pressure of your entire family. It's something I'll need a lot of support in. I just hope I will be able to find the resources, the energy, and the persuasion to convince everyone that this is the best way for me. I was so unhappy with the way things went with Eowyn's birth, and I want this one to really be the way I wanted Eowyn's to be. I'll have my work cut out for me either way.

Looking like a Mom

Okay, I want to know something. When did looking like a Mom become a fate worse than death? When did our country become so obsessed with perfection and youth that being a mom was okay, but looking like one was to be avoided at all costs. Is there any other job or identity out there that people want to have but not to appear to have? How did we get so backward? Why do mother's magazines and catalogs all have pictures of perfectly thin, perfectly dressed, perfectly made up, perfectly cellulite and stretch mark free bodies, with perfect breasts? How realistic is that? What is so atrocious about a few stretch marks? These are signs of a woman who has achieved the ultimate in femininity. What is so horrible about breasts that look as if they have nurtured and fed babies? Why do we all so dread "looking like a mom?" What is so wrong with looking as if you are giving it all to your babies, and so maybe you didn't have the time to put on makeup, and spend an hour on your hair? What kind of mothers are the women who "don't look like a mom?" Are they just so great that they have time for everything. Ha! Maybe if they have a super laid back baby who doesn't need a lot of mothering, then they may have time for looking like a super model (or a "supermom") but then, does her baby get less attention? As for the notion that a woman can manage to attend to her baby properly, never denying him her attention and love, and still manage to look like a supermodel: I put that under the category of "Anything's Possible." You know, like my chance of being discovered at the grocery store and whisked away to Hollywood to begin my career of super stardom. It could happen, but I'm probably more likely to win the lottery. I'm not trying to make anyone feel like a bad mom, here, by the way. I'm just at odds with the what society in our culture expects of mothers. Okay, yeah, I think Mom Jeans are hideous. But if I see a woman out in public with her small children, and she's dressed in sweats, with her hair in a ponytail, with no makeup on, I know that there is a woman who cares more about her children, and about being a mom, than about looking like one. Why don't we honor mothers the way other cultures do? Sure, most people are nicer to pregnant women, and give them some special treatment, but once you have that baby, you're expected to loose the baby weight immediately and look like you just stepped out of a magazine. Some women are just lucky; they are thin no matter what, they are those adorable pregnant women whose bodies are perfect the whole way through pregnancy, except they just look like they swallowed a bowling ball. They loose the weight without even trying. My best friend is like that. She's gorgeous the whole way through pregnancy and after. But she doesn't look like a magazine, either. She's gorgeous in a natural way. So why can't we start looking at all mothers like that? Beautiful as people, as dedicated mothers? Not just as women. Why does your relevance and usefulness seem to vanish as soon as you "look like a mom?" Don't most men want their wives to be good mothers? Isn't that, shouldn't that be any mother's goal? To be a good mom? Not a beautiful, perfectly airbrushed, made up mom. A real mom. A mom who cares more about her childrens' welfare than her own appearance. That being said, we mothers do have to honor the woman that we are, and take care of ourselves, or we risk feeling resentful or angry. But we need to cut ourselves some slack. I may be one of those women who "looks like a mom." I'm lucky to get a shower. Sometimes I might almost forget to brush my teeth. I try to remind myself that "supermom" is a myth, and I can't expect to look perfect. I wish I didn't feel so bad about the way I look. I'm pretty sure the pressure comes from living in this culture. Hopefully some day soon, we will start to expect moms to "look like moms." Does anything in the world make more sense?

Well, I quit Neem Tree. This all happened a week ago today. Asha (owner of the spa) wanted me to give her a massage, and long story short, she made up a lie and left the table, and called Lana and bitched her out, saying that it was all wrong; I didn't do the circles on her shoulders right, and the pressure was not enough, even though I asked her how the pressure was, and she told me I could give her a "little more," which was obviously not what she really wanted. HOW I ask you, can I read her mind?! What is with these people? I am not a robot. I cannot give the exact same massage to every client with the exact same pressure like a machine. Who would want that anyway? I know the shushupti, the warrior, all that, and I do it just like they do. I don't know what she wants. Ugh. Asha called and left me a message, but she didn't answer when I called back. I just felt like what she did was a total slap in the face. If she would have told me what she really wanted, it would have been different. Instead, she lied and left. How do they expect to keep people when they won't let you have tips, have no clients, won't let you leave if you have no clients, and want to dictate your every move during a massage? I am not kidding you, she even said I wasn't breathing right! COME ON! You are going to tell me how to breathe too! Give me a break. I think if Asha opened a restaurant, she would only serve her own favorite dish, because that's what she likes, so that must be what everyone likes. It's okay to have a signature treatment, but realize that not everyone will be into that. Maybe that's why they are so lacking in clientèle. Anyway, I'm pretty sure I'm leaving; I'm going tomorrow to get my stuff (I brought a heater, my stool, everything). I will still talk to Asha if she wants to talk to me, but I really just don't think I can continue there. That really hurt my feelings. I have enough insecurity about my ability as a massage therapist as it is. I would like to tell her how I feel. Not to mention the fact that they are misclassifying their workers as independent contractors, so they don't have to pay the taxes. I looked it up, and by the IRS's definition, we are NOT independent contractors. I think they are doing it on purpose, which could land them fines, back taxes with interest, require them to pay all the taxes their employees already paid back to the employees, and even result in criminal charges. Lana (the spa manager) said she was sure that I knew what I was doing, and that she would not have booked me if she felt I wasn't capable. I gave her a massage. I gave Josie ( my coworker who is also a massage therapist) a massage, and I gave Zaundra (also a coworker) a warrior in training. Asha said in her message she was going to come train me, but shit, I've been doing massage for four freaking years now, how much training is it going to take? She said in her message that she feels that I have "enormous potential." What? I've been doing massage for four years now with only potential? I see why they have been through so many people. I really like Lana and Josie and Zaundra. They are really fun and everything. I'll miss them. I don't think Asha realizes that it is b/c of her that I am leaving. That was total bullshit. If she can't tell me what she wants in a massage, how can she expect me do it?!! Plus, I just don't think I can stomach being "trained" by someone who is not even a massage therapist. It was hard enough having Lana training me, and feeling like everything I was doing was wrong. I loved the spa, it was so beautiful. I loved the way they treated their clients. They actually care about their clients, unlike Spa Sydell. I just think if a person comes in and pays 110-150 dollars for a massage, they should damn well get exactly what they want and need, not just the standard treatment. I'm truly grateful for the experience; it inspired me to want to open my own spa (well, with my trusty partner, you know who you are ;). It gave me tons of ideas. Now I'm happy to be home with my baby, where I belong. I am not going to try the full time thing again. It just didn't work out. That was a big part of why I couldn't keep working at Neem Tree. To be there all day, with no clients, and have to just sit around thinking about my baby and missing her was just too much. I couldn't take it. That was a big factor in my decision. But mainly, it was Asha. I was really offended by her leaving the table like that, and I think she's forgotten what it's like to be trying to earn your living doing services. Well, that's the story people.

Preview

Who wants a cookie-cutter massage? Do you think you want the same massage as the last person I worked on? The same pressure? The same everything?!!!
More to come.

It's 2:26 am! What the hell am I doing up?!

Oh man, am I behind on my blogging. That would be due to the fact that I have NO time. You should see my house. Since my child is a hardcore sleep fighter, she now usually doesn't go to sleep until midnight or so (oh yeah, we are talking 12 in the am) because I have pretty much given up on trying to get her to sleep when she has no mind to. It just creates frustration. So, I have no time for this blogging thing. If I try to do anything on the computer, she's right next to me, clicking the mouse and pushing every button she can reach. She's shut down the computer a couple of times somehow. Repeat after me: you will miss these times someday. Maybe I'll do some updating at work since I seem to never have anything else to do. Hey people! Come get a massage already!