The Inducement Experiment (-1 Days)

Intro
My fellow first time pregnants, beware! While your friends and family are coughing out their kids early, your due date may come and go and leave you with nothing but an in-box of “Is she here yet?” messages.

“I’ve been counting down to this day for nine freaking months, and you're only just now telling me I might still have to wait two more weeks for my baby?”

“I want a refund. No one told me this in the beginning.”

“This is really going to mess with our schedule.”

“I have to be back to work in four weeks, so the longer she takes – the less time I will have with her. If that’s the way she wants it, fine!”

Does this make you weird? Does it mean something is wrong with your child? Is this just the start of her not measuring up to the other kids on the block? Will she ever come out? Is it too late to change your mind and just not have this kid?

Don’t despair. Most first time pregnants are late. In fact, you should just expect it. Perhaps you should even tell friends and family that the due date is a month later than it actually is, because it is their constant checking in on the arrival of your little bundle that builds up all the excitement and consequent disappointment when it doesn’t happen.

But is there something you can do about it? Can labor be naturally induced? Before you begin an exhaustive internet search and max out the storage capacity of your new Buzz account, let’s find out if even one of these natural methods can actually induce labor.

Purpose
The purpose of “The Inducement Experiment” is to discover if labor can be naturally induced. By folding every potential inducement method into one day, we have no way of knowing which method might actually do the trick. But we should be able to determine if any one of them or combination of them is able to naturally induce labor within a 24 hour period of time.

Methodology
Starting at 9 AM today, I set out on an expedition with my assistant Jacques the Explorer.

The experiment began with a solicitation from friends and family for natural inducement methods. After an exhaustive review of this list, the most popular methods were selected for testing. Jacques was the record keeper as we set out into the snow on our quest.

Here are the most popular recommended methods for naturally inducing labor.

• Eat pineapple







• Ingest a large amount of beets







• Drink Red Raspberry leaf tea







• Eat hot and spicy foods








• Participate in reflexology, acupuncture and/or a chiropractic adjustment








• Engage in sexual activity resulting in mutual orgasm

(Photo removed by request from "Save the Whales" Foundation)

• Walk, walk and walk some more

(Video shot and edited by my loving husband)

Summary of Findings

• Pineapple is difficult to find in the middle of an early February blizzard.

• Beets taste much better when they are pickled.


• Red Raspberry leaf tea has very little, if any flavor, but tastes much better when eaten with pineapple.


• Pineapple causes sour burps for an hour and I might be developing three new canker sours.


• Habanero peppers are very, very spicy.


• Reflexology feels very good, as does massage, but should be performed by a professional as the slightest shift of hand could have dire effects.



• In order to have sex resulting in mutual orgasm at nine months and 1 day pregnant, one must find some way to feel remotely sexy.


• In order to have sex resulting in mutual orgasm at nine months and 1 day pregnant, one must be very flexible.


• If one really wants to have sex resulting in mutual orgasm at nine months and 1 day pregnant, it’s best one not eat 1.5 pineapples, three pickled beets, ½ pound of spicy taco meat, a habanero pepper, and arrabiata pasta within an hour of said attempt.


• Walking in a blizzard at nine months and 1 day pregnant is harder than walking at seven months pregnant on Venice Beach.


• Walking in a blizzard at nine months and 1 day pregnant, then eating 1.5 pineapples, three pickled beets, ½ pound of spicy taco meat, a habanero pepper, arrabiata pasta and then trying to have sex resulting in mutual orgasm is not advised.

Evaluations
While not yet inducing labor, most of the tactics did make Baby Hedvig wiggle around. And while not yet inducing labor, eating 1.5 pineapples, three pickled beets, ½ pound of spicy taco meat, a habanero pepper, and arrabiata pasta does cause severe indigestion and funky gas. Which I can see passing for false labor.

Results
To be determined. As a full 24 hours has not passed since the start of the experiment, the results are currently inconclusive. The clock is ticking and Hedvig has about twelve hours left to prove that one of these methods was actually effective. Tune in tomorrow for final results.

UPDATE:**Baby born within 24 hours of this post, January 11th, 2000 at 7:00 PM**

Zero Days Left and No Hedvig. Yet.

Dear God – Are you there? It’s me Hedvig.

I know you are very busy up there, especially with all the snow you are making tonight. But if I could, I would like to send up this one tiny prayer. Can I be born soon?

It’s been a very long nine months. When this whole thing started, I really liked the place where I live. It was spacious and warm and I could swim around all day. Once I could hear, I heard the sounds of my Mommy talking. She talks a whole lot, but I kinda like it. What I like even more, is listening to my Daddy sing. He makes up silly songs and yells them really loud in my ear. I’m pretty sure he is a clown with big shoes and a red nose because he is always saying and doing very funny things. I really want to meet them both.

Don’t get me wrong, things have been nice in here. The food is good. I eat lots of amniotic fluid, and my Mom bakes these amazing cupcakes and cookies that come at me in a major sugar rush. The climate is great. It’s warm and cozy. And I get out every day with my Mom and Dad for these long walks that gently rock me back and forth in my little nest. But the truth is that it’s been starting to get a little cramped.

For starters, I’ve been stuck upside down for the last month with my head in my Mom’s pelvis. That’s a lot of blood rushing to the head. I try to kick around but I’m constantly bumping up against my Mothers rib cage. I have to really work to turn around in this tight space. I can feel everything that touches my Mothers belly, her desk, the kitchen table, her super tight ski jacket, the bed, Daddy’s hands. For a long time, no one could touch me – but now when people put their hand on my Mom’s tummy I can feel them trying to grab my toes. And well, I kinda like it. To be honest, I like it a lot.

I like it so much, I think I would like to really feel their hands on my toes. I think I want to touch my Mommy’s face and meet my silly Daddy. Okay, so it’s not really the space as much as I’m a little lonely. Sometimes, I feel like I’m standing outside of a house with a big party going on inside. All I can do right now is press my ear to the door, but what I really want is to be invited in for some cake.

I know it’s going to be tough out there. I know it’s going to take me a little while to adjust. I hear it’s cold and loud and not as squishy or soft, but I think I’m ready. There are so many things and people waiting for me. I can’t wait to wear my first party dress, or dance around the room with Papa, or play Settlers of Catan with Dad. I want to see the snow and take a bath with Mommy, go to a show with Mimi, and eat in a restaurant. Everyone is having so much fun out there and I want to be part of it!

Dear God, I know you are busy. I know there are more important things going on in the world than the pleas of a nine month old baby. I know you have a plan and a time and a way to do this right. But if you can, if it’s not too much trouble, if it’s possible, can I be born soon?

Thanks God,

Baby Hedvig

1 Day

My husband has decided to greet his newborn baby girl with a dashing handlebar moustache.

We all have our own way of preparing for change.

Tonight, Gabe and I had date night. It was a night of odds. We walked to World Cafe Live for a storyslam on the theme First Impressions and hoped my water didn't break along the icy path. About 100 people showed up, and 50 or so put their name in the hat to judge the competition. But it was my name that was selected.

We listened to 10 stories, 3 great and 7 okay. We saw old friends and made a few new ones.

At the end of the night, 100 people put their names in the hat for a raffle and Gabe won! He now has his very own copy of the Vagina Monologues, so he can stop borrowing mine.

What are the odds that my water wouldn't break? That my name would be selected to judge? That Gabe would win the door prize? And do any of these odds make it more likely that our baby girl will be born on her due date with no complications and not squeal in fear when she sees her new daddy's face?

I hope so.

Signs of Labor, What should I be watching for? (2 Days to Go)

With only two days remaining to my due date, I realize that little Hedvig could be making her entrance at any moment. To a schedule minder anal retentive like myself, this is utterly frustrating. Is it too much to ask God to just put a little appointment reminder in my blackberry so I can plan accordingly?

I have no reason to think that Hedvig will be early, and in fact, most first time mothers are late. So I don’t know why I still wake up in the middle of the night with a cramp thinking, “Is this it”?

I’ve Googled ‘determining when you are in labor’ several times, but that doesn’t give me any more control over the situation. What it does give me, are a few obvious signs of labor that I thought I would share with my readers.

Unfortunately, not on this list are the types of signs I was hoping to find. For example, “You will crave Mexican food. You will get a small ache in your lower back that grows in intensity until you start to feel contractions. You will suddenly start walking with a limp. Your mother-in-law will arrive. Mother Nature will drop 18 inches of snow making it impossible to catch a cab to the hospital.” I feel confident I will know when I am in labor, but what about pre-labor?


Effacement and Dilation of the Cervix
Before you can have your baby, I guess your cervix has to both thin out and open. The thinning is called effacement. You don’t feel it happening and you can’t really tell if it has, but your doctor will tell you at your next exam. Effacement is often expressed in percentages. When you're 50 percent effaced, your cervix is half its original thickness. Your cervix must be 100 percent effaced, or completely thinned out, before a vaginal delivery.

The Doctor refers to the opening of the cervix as dilatation and gives you a number from 1- 10cm to let you know where you are at. You have to be at 10 to deliver, but the process of dilation can occur very inconsistently. For example, I was a 1cm at 37 weeks, 3cm at 38 weeks, and by now I could be walking around at 5 cm and not even know it.

At first, these cervical changes may be very slow. Your progress isn't a good indicator of when labor will begin, but rather a general sign that you're getting ready for labor. Once you're in active labor, I expect to dilate much more quickly.

My doctor said, “I don’t even know why we tell people at their weekly exams. It really can change at any moment and usually it’s the last three that happen all of the sudden.”


The Mucous Plug
I totally didn’t know what this was until Gabe and I took the pregnancy class offered by the hospital. During pregnancy, a thick plug of mucus blocks the cervical opening to prevent bacteria from entering the uterus. When your cervix begins to thin and open, this plug may fall out. You may notice stringy mucus or a thick discharge. It's typically brown and sometimes tinged with blood. And it’s kinda gross.

Losing the mucous plug is a sign of labor, but doesn’t mean anything is imminent. I lost mine three days ago and have an unfortunate feeling that actual active labor is still days away.


Nesting
I’ve heard that “nesting” is a typical sign that labor is on the way. Well, I’ve been nesting for the last month and clearly not in labor. But what they say is that this instinct is increased as you get closer to actual labor and that typically you wake up one morning feeling a special burst of energy, ready to re-arrange the furniture, clean out the cabinets, bake four dozen cupcakes, dust above the cupboard and paint the nursery. And then, apparently, you are in the middle of one of these projects and you go into labor.

Well, that sounds like no fun at all. Coming home to a half painted nursery or uncooked cupcakes sounds miserable. I’m starting to wonder if my compulsive need for perfection has prevented this instinct from being an effective sign of impending labor. Sort of like I will the baby back up into the body rather than consider the possibility of coming home to a dirty house or half finished project.


Water Breaking
This is the sign they always use in the movies. The woman is usually standing somewhere like the line at the grocery store and then suddenly she looks down and there is a puddle beneath her and she runs off to the hospital to have her baby. My sister tells me that its more like you are sitting in the car and you feel like you wet your pants, then you go to the bathroom to check and find something like turkey giblets in your underwear. With my luck, I’ll be sitting on my white couch when it happens. And considering how many times I’ve wet my pants in this pregnancy, it could have happened months ago. Seriously, I sneeze, cough, laugh or take a deep breath and I’m likely to have a puddle underneath me. So I have no idea how I will know when my water actually breaks.

On my last visit, the doctor gave me a test to check if one of my puddle incidents was actually my water breaking. Alas, it hasn’t happened yet. The “water” is actually the fluid inside your an amniotic sac that cushions your baby in the uterus. Our Doctor says that your water can break and that doesn’t mean contractions will follow. It’s best to have the baby within 24 hours of your water breaking, because the longer the membranes are ruptured, the greater the risk of developing an infection. Of course, they test you in week 37 to find out if your fluid is prone to infection. Mine is not. Therefore, our doctor told us that we should stay home as long as we can if the water breaks.

“If you call, they will tell you to come in. And if you come in with your water broken and aren’t in labor, they will induce. So you might want to wait it out a little. Don’t call right away but definitely get in before 24 hours.”


Contractions
Now for the most obvious sign of labor and the one I keep waiting to happen. Contractions. During the last few months of pregnancy, they told me I may experience occasional, painless contractions — a sensation that your uterus is tightening and relaxing. These are called Braxton Hicks contractions. Our doctor says that they help push the baby down to get in position.

As your due date approaches, Braxton Hicks contractions may become stronger or even painful. Eventually, Braxton Hicks contractions will be replaced by the real thing. To tell the difference, ask yourself these questions:

• Are the contractions regular? Time your contractions from the beginning of one to the beginning of the next. Look for a regular pattern of contractions that get progressively stronger and closer together. The contractions of false labor will remain irregular.
• How long do they last? True contractions last more than 30 seconds at first and get progressively longer — up to 90 seconds. The contractions of false labor vary in length.
• Can you stop the contractions? True contractions continue regardless of your activity level or position. In fact, they often grow stronger with increased activity, such as walking. With false labor, you may be able to stop the contractions by changing your activity or position, lying down or taking a walk.

Well – to be perfectly honest, I don’t think I’ve had a single contraction this entire pregnancy. I have these moments where the baby presses really hard on my belly and then releases and I wonder, “Is that a contraction?” But I don’t really think it is.


In summary – this baby isn’t coming any time soon. I’m failing in the pre-labor signs department. So sit back, buckle up and get ready for the -1 days and counting blog coming on Wed. And if anything changes, I’ll let you know.

Three

Dear Sweet Baby, just thought you should know that you are really our third baby.

Our first was conceived last Christmas over late nights in front of the computer collaborating on Daddy’s application packages for business school. Daddy would write and then sit hopefully by my side while I read.

"Please don't say that I have to re-write the whole thing," he begged.

Then I would begin the critique, "Let's talk about what's good first".

We gave that baby Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years and every date night in between. Gabe averaged 5 hours of sleep and I averaged 6. He wrote, I critiqued, he wrote more, I organized his recommenders, he prodded them gently, I nagged incessantly. We submitted the final application on January 8th and on August 9th we got the news that Dad was accepted at UCLA Anderson.

He sat stunned on the couch, the phone pressed to his ear. I jumped up and down silently before he hung up and then I wrapped my arms and legs around him and squeezed with every muscle in my body.

"We did it," he said.

Our second baby was conceived on July 27th, when your father got down on one knee at the Kidrobot store in New York and asked me to marry him. The engagement was just the beginning. Your father and I labored for 60 days over every small detail. Dad had an opinion on everything from the color of the paper for the programs to the flowers for the boutonnieres. And of course, I had an opinion as well. So we had to collaborate on everything.

I averaged three hours of sleep between juggling the guest list, assembling programs, cutting out gift bag labels, wrapping favors, selecting bridesmaid dresses and managing the invitation and RSVP process. Daddy did all the song selection, handled all the restaurants and food, worked on the ceremony and wrote thank you notes. We poured our hearts and souls into something that was really special for the both of us. The big day was birthed September 26, 2009 and it was spectacular! It was the product of our love and devotion to one another and it came together beautifully.

We are pretty proud of our first two offspring. But I have a feeling we will be even more proud of you!

We expect to be tired and cranky and frustrated when things don’t go quite right. We know all about trial and error. But in the end, we are both confident that the first time you grip a finger, hold up your head on your own, smile, crawl or make a noise that resembles a word, then it will all be worth it. We make pretty good things together, your Daddy and I.

I think you will love your siblings as much as we do and we can’t wait for you to meet them!

See you soon – Mommy and Daddy

4 Days to Motherhood

As much as I love my mother, I don’t think I’ve ever loved or respected her as much as I have since I found out that I was pregnant. And I have a feeling that emotion will grow even stronger over the next few years. The more I think about the impending birth and childhood of my little girl, I wonder how my mother did it with such style and grace.

Through nine pregnancies and seven children, my mother remained patient and seemingly delighted with every new baby coo. She combed her hair every day and put on her face, changed diapers, prepared meals, drove carpool, planned birthday parties and chaperoned Girl Scout outings. She never made it look like a chore.

My mother and father made it look so easy. They made it look so fun. There was always a camping trip, a beach hike, a ski day or a pool adventure on the horizon. Dad planned scavenger hunts in the backyard and Mom made birthday cakes shaped like Elephants in the kitchen. We went sailing, travelled to Europe, played board games, and had screaming contests in the car. They really seemed to love being parents. Especially Mom.

As I think beyond this pregnancy and ponder being a mother, I visualize my mother for inspiration. She did it all without thanks or praise, without stomping her feet and saying, “What about me?”, without whining “What happened to my life?”

I know she had a life of her own. She painted pictures that my father proudly hung in prominent places around the house. She wrote Erma Bombeck inspired stories that Dad read at the dinner table with a red pen in is hand to correct her grammar. Then there was that macramé class she took at the local community college where she made a green macramé bikini. Oh yes, and the stained glass course when she created a brilliant green floral window that now catches the light in a loft space of my parents new home. She had her own Christmas store when I was a teenager, and now my mother takes classes on flower arranging and participates in both a Bunko and Poker club. Obviously she has always had her own interests, but as a child it never once occurred to me that my mother may have had a life outside of us children.

Every night, dinner was on the table, the babies bathed and dressed for bed. In the morning, we all managed to get out of bed on time, eat breakfast, get dressed and out the door for school. I don’t recall anyone ever saying thank you, but she still woke up and did it again every day. How on earth will I be able to do this?

How will I cope when my child only remembers the time it went wrong, instead of all the times it didn’t? I can remember the one band recital when my mother fell asleep in the second row, but I can barely recall the number of recitals where she sat alert and pensive throughout. I can remember the time she was late to pick me up at school and I waited outside for thirty minutes, but now I marvel that she managed to be on time for the thousand plus other times. What will my child remember about me? Will she remember that one time I lost her at Target, or will she remember that I didn’t let go of her hand on 1,289 other visits?

How will I cope when my little girl grows up into a resentful adult? How will I still love her after she reminds me of everything I did to screw her up? How will I feel when after eighteen birthday cakes, cards and candles, she forgets my birthday? How will I continue to love her through her rebellious period? How will I have the strength to stick by her even when she hates me?

Will I have to wait until the eve of Hedvigs first pregnancy, for her to turn to me and say “Thank you Mom. For everything. For changing my diapers twelve times a day for the first two years of my life. For feeding me every three hours even though your nipples were sore and dry. For bathing me every night. For teaching me how to walk. For giving me swim lessons. For helping me learn to read. For taking me on ski trips. For buying me weeble wobbles. For letting me join the swim team. For holding the water bottle on my ear when I had an ear ache. For driving me to summer school and giving me Granola Bars and Grapefruit pop as a snack. For buying me that pair of jeans with the strawberry on the bum. For pushing me to take honors classes. For encouraging me to be a writer. For not losing me at the commissary. For laughing so hard at my silly jokes. For baking me those three butterfly cakes for my seventh birthday. For sending me to private school. For believing all my ridiculous stories. For taking me to Europe in 6th grade. For inviting me home for Christmas every year. For taking out all my splinters. For making those cute green velour outfits for the Christmas photo. For not being mad when I told you I was pregnant. For paying for my wedding. For being there every night when I call to tell you how many centimeters I’m dilated or how much my heartburn hurts. Thank you.”

Quote of the Day (5 Days and Counting)

“You probably were only 5lbs 14 ounces when you were born because I drank and smoked through the entire pregnancy. But I want you to know, we were travelling in England until a month before you were born, and I only smoked the very best cigarettes. They were Dunhills.”

Dear Baby - Only 6 days until we meet!

Dear Sweet Baby,

It is difficult to believe that this time next Wednesday night I may be feeding you or Daddy may be trying out his “Happiest Baby on the Block” tricks on you. If the shushing sound he makes in your ear is annoying, I give you permission to vomit on him.

In these last few days, Mommy and Daddy have been doing lots of preparing for you arrival. Tonight, I baked 24 red velvet cupcakes and 24 snickerdoodles to serve to all the friends that will be stopping by to see you when you are born.

Daddy walked me all over town to try and find flavors to drip in my ice chips at the hospital, he got the laptop loaded with our favorite music and photos and packed his Daddy bag. We washed and folded all your new baby clothes. Your Aunty Barb sent another huge box of designer duds that made Mommy tear up and cry all over them. Dad said we should wash them again.

On Friday night, Mimi will be arriving so she can help us with your birth. We hope you don’t come before she arrives because she would be so sad to miss your arrival. And Daddy and I still have a few things left on on our ‘To Do’ lists.

Daddy and I spend a lot of time wondering what kind of birth we will have, and what kind of baby you will be. I'm especially curious about what you might look like when you are born.

Here is what your daddy looked like when he was born.

And here is what your mommy looked like when she was a baby.

I hope you look more like me.

Daddy was born 7 lbs and 2.5 oz, he broke his nose and Mimi's tail bone on his way out after 36 hours of labor. I slid out at 5 lbs 14 oz within five minutes of my Mother arriving at the hospital.

I hope you are born more like me too.

When I was little, I loved looking at pictures of my Mom and Dad when they were babies. I also loved asking your great grandma Wiese and Ford to tell me stories about when my parents were bad. Your Grandma Hesson and Grandma Wiese should have lots of stories like that for you Hedvig. And as for photos, I put together this little video so that you could see what your mom and dad looked like when they were little. I can’t wait to watch it with you someday and answer all your questions.

Well, I should probably get some sleep because I need to be well rested in case you decide to arrive in the middle of the night. Would it be possible if you could wait until around noon before you start your journey towards us? Daddy and I really like to sleep in and it would be so great to meet you when we are super well rested.

Thanks Baby - See you soon,

Mom

Magical Spaces for Children (7 days until D-Day)

39 weeks today! One week from my due date and the reality that a week from now I may have a baby on my lap still hasn’t really set in. We visited the doctor today and she said I'm 3 centimeters dilated - which means absolutely nothing. Apparently, I can walk around as dilated as 7 centimeters and it means nothing until I actually start to go into labor. I'm still sort of hoping that the baby just drops out one day in the kitchen while I'm making Red Velvet cupcakes. Now that would be a good birth story!

Ever since the appointment, I've been sluggish and quite crampy. So I looked for a little something on my favorite blogs to bring some cheer and I found all these fantastic and inspiring spaces sure to spark a little creativity. When my little lady comes into the world, re-decorating her room on an annual basis will be one of our favorite things to do. I'll keep these pics for inspiration!

Date Night (8 Days Left)

Tonight’s post will be short and sweet because my evening has been hijacked by my loving husband who decided to whisk me away for a surprise date night.

“I’ll pick you up at 3:30,” he said.

“You know we live in the same house, right?”

“Just be ready,” he told me. And at 3:30, he knocked on the door.

We walked to the center of our beautiful city, and stood staring up at City Hall. In June, Gabe and I made a list of all the things we wanted to do in Philadelphia before we moved and at the top of that list was to see the city from the City Hall Tower. Trouble is, you have to get an appointment well in advance. And well, we don’t really do advance. So all we have ever been able to do is stare up at the tower and wonder about its magnificent views. But not today. My sweet husband had arranged for us to take the very last tiny little elevator up to the tower and have the entire observation deck to ourselves to watch the sunset.

It was gorgeous, the sunlight glistening off the buildings and casting the rooftops in a golden glow. We marveled at the city stretched beneath us. The security guard that took us up in the elevator insisted that if I went into labor tonight we had to name our little girl Penny after William Penn. Thankfully, I haven’t gone into labor just yet.

We left the tower and wandered over to the Comcast center where we explored the new food court. We ate hoagies and French Fries. I told Gabe that ever since I had seen the Cosby show I had wanted to get a real Philly Hoagie and he said, “That was filmed in Philly?”

At one point, he leaned over the table and spoke in a hushed voice, “God, I have the most beautiful wife.”

I blushed.

We left the gourmet food court and stopped off at the Sony store to play the new Wild Things video game on Sony PlayStation. We walked home, only stopping along the way at Di Bruno Brothers to pick up cheese for a massive cheese platter we assembled when we got home. We took our time in the store, tasting every cheese sample and reading the labels on all the various fig jam spreads. He has a thing for fig jam.

While we were walking through the park, he took my gloved hand and kissed it gently as if I were something delicate and precious. As if I weren't so ginormous that I couldn't zip my winter coat.

When we got home, we ran a hot bath. We lit candles like couples do in the movies and took a long soak. It was an effort just lowering the extra 20 pounds of my achey 39 week pregnant body into the water and not displacing half the tub onto the bathroom floor. He sang along with songs on the XM radio, told me stories and gave me all the best details from his daily blog reads.

Afterwards, Gabe lit a fire in the living room, I assembled the grand cheese platter, and we sat in front of the fire playing Gin Rummy. I won six hands to his four and scored three times as many points. Yet he still loves me enough to be arranging some surprise for me in the bedroom before we go to bed.

I don’t know how many date nights we have in store for us in the upcoming months, so I’m really glad we got this last one in before the baby’s arrival. And I couldn’t be more grateful for a man who knows exactly what makes me happy. Sometimes, I can't believe that someone so giving, so creative, so humble and so handsome, loves me.

I got lucky when I found him.

Sometimes I forget how really great I’ve got it.

9 Days to Baby Toes

Dear Baby Hedvig:

We are now counting down to your arrival in single digits. I have to be honest, the last two days have been rough. You wriggle and writhe and stick toes in places that they just don’t belong. You wake me up in the middle of the night and cause heartburn that feels like I am having a heart attack. I’m cranky when I don’t sleep and that makes me extra mean to your father.

When I’m cranky, I let dark thoughts invade the peaceful space that is usually filled with nothing but love and excitement for our first meeting. And tonight – the darkness came, softly but swiftly like a fog rolling in from the sea. By the time I noticed it, I was panicked.

You see, dear girl, I’m a little bit freaked out about the prospect of changing my life for your arrival. I’m nervous about losing myself. Before I met your father I wore my hair long, my dresses short and never left the house without at least 2½ inches of stylish heel. I signed up for missions in Bosnia or Africa or Albania when life felt boring. I loved coming home to an empty apartment, a clean kitchen and a well made bed. I slept on a different side of my glorious bed every night and cherished staying up late with my laptop writing blogs and answering my Friendster, MySpace, Facebook and Match.com emails. Dating was my favorite sport, shopping was my cardio warm-up and eating alone in a coffee shop was a daily exercise. My life was wild and free and easy.

Of course, your Dad changed all that and I’m happy that he did, but I’m still sort of adjusting. And now here comes you. People keep warning me that “everything is going to change”, “you will never leave the house again”, “you will become nothing more than a feeding machine”, and I can’t help wondering if all that I once loved about myself is about to die. I know you will keep me busy and entertained, but will you keep me mentally stimulated? Will I be trapped inside a world of diapers and bottles and sleeping schedules with no outlet? Will Dad stop talking to me about articles he read in the Economist? Will we ever have date night again?

I already feel like a bad mother for even thinking these things. These fears come and go these days – and are most often triggered after an evening with friends who have kids of their own. I wish I could promise you that once you are born these fears will vanish. I hope that they do. I also hope that your father and I don’t stop caring for our souls and our minds when you burst into our world. I hope that we allow you to widen our world and not shrink it. I hope that we get to be kids again because of you and that our love for one another deepens as a result of your presence in our lives. My dear sweet baby, I hope you never know the fears that threatened to eclipse the sunshine of your bright spirit coming into our world.

Look, I have never been good at knowing what will make my life complete and happy. In fact, the things that have brought me the greatest joy are things I resisted at first. A stable (boring) job, a move to Philadelphia, your Dad, a career change, marriage! So I think it’s okay that I’m feeling this way tonight. I think it’s okay to mourn my independence one last night. I think, well I hope, that this is normal and healthy and all part of the journey towards becoming a mom.

Regardless of how I feel, you are coming soon and there is nothing I want to change about that fact. You are the most important project I will ever accomplish and the next great journey in my life. You are my chance to give back the copious amounts of love I’ve received in my lifetime. And for that I’m truly grateful.

Don’t worry sweet baby, I’m ready whenever you are. Just a little reluctant tonight.

Love, Mom

When should I start wondering what to expect after the expecting part is all over and there is a baby on my lap? (10 Days Left)

Since the day I discovered I was pregnant, I started reading What to Expect When You're Expecting. Hungry for more information about my rapidly changing body, I hit up the blogs and signed up for newsletters from both the American Pregnancy Association and Penn Medicine. I hungered for my weekly fix of pregnancy tips, advice and knowledge. I read about delivery and hospital protocol, I attended childbirth classes. I participated in on-line forums that debated the best way to bring your child into the world. I pumped my family members for their delivery stories. Rolling into 39 weeks, I think I’m as prepared as one can possibly be prepared for childbirth. But when should I start wondering what to expect after the expecting part is all over and there is a baby on my lap?

Up until now, every story has ended in birth. The last nine months have been about crossing that finish line when you hear your baby cry, Daddy cuts the cord, you deliver the placenta and then you lay back on the hospital bed sweaty and exhausted. Mission accomplished, right?

But then what?

With only ten days remaining in my baby countdown, I am anxious to switch gears and find out. I’m on a quest to learn what I can about the upcoming year and below is a list of the books, blogs and sources I have been using to investigate. I've never done this before and I have no idea where to start. So please leave your suggestions in my comment box.

For Daddy
The Guy's Guide to Surviving Pregnancy, Childbirth and the First Year of Fatherhood
by Michael Crider
Smonk You Blog

To Establish a Routine in the First Six Weeks
The Baby Whisperer Solves All Your Problems: Sleeping, Feeding, and Behavior--Beyond the Basics from Infancy Through Toddlerhood
by Tracy Hogg

For Crying
The Happiest Baby on the Block: The New Way to Calm Crying and Help Your Newborn Baby Sleep Longer
by Harvey Karp

For Sleep Training
The Baby Sleep Solution: A Proven Program to Teach Your Baby to Sleep Twelve Hours a Night
by Suzy Giordano and Lisa Abidin

For Toddler Training
Supernanny: How to Get the Best From Your Children
by Jo Frost

For Warm Fuzzies
Dear Baby Blog

For Decor
Spearmint Baby Blog
ohdeedoh Blog
Design Dazzle Blog

In the beginning ... (11 Days to Baby)

I knew after my first date with Gabe that this relationship would amount to something very special. He was the first man I had ever met that was capable of dramatic gestures. He had no fear about asking me out on our first date via a photo text of a cocktail napkin.

He was so smooth on that first date, not afraid of an awkward silence as we rode the subway to the bowling alley. He wasn’t gooey or weak when he went to great lengths to walk between me and the street. He was super cool and unemotional on that first date, but he made these grand gestures that won my heart. He quietly paid for the bowling game and drinks when he got up to use the bathroom. He brought quarters so we could play Deer Hunter in the arcade before we left. He reached ahead of me to open a door. He insisted on walking me home. He wouldn’t come inside my apartment or kiss me goodnight but made me close and lock the gate before he left. He was careful not to ask me out on a second date before he departed from the first. But I knew there would be a second date.

A few days later, I got another picture message on my phone. It was a number of bar accoutrements that spelled out “Do you like Jazz?”

I didn’t – but I was smitten by his efforts to dazzle me and agreed to meet up for some dinner and jazz. We ate at a restaurant in Northern Liberties that had a wall size print of a woman’s breast. He didn’t look at it once. I asked him questions and kept him talking. He paid the waiter and walked me over to this jazz club next door. It was cold and dark and smelled of urine and beer, but Gabe and I sat at the bar for several hours talking as the musicians played in the background. I asked him question after question, careful to keep it light but dig below the surface. I remember wondering if he was ever going to ask about me – and that is when I realized he was just a little bit nervous. He walked me home, this time he stepped into my doorway and kissed me sweetly goodnight. After I closed the gate, he kissed me quickly again through the bars, listened for the lock of the door and walked home. Again, he avoided any talk of date 3.

But by date three, I knew he liked me. That is how I knew he would appreciate the gesture when I sent him a photo of a scrabble board accepting his request to make him dinner.

I skipped to the bus in the mornings and smiled all week at work in anticipation of Thursday night. I picked out a special recipe to prepare for dinner, I cleaned the house, I dusted off the scrabble board, I used soft lighting and was just putting away the vacuum when the doorbell rang.

As I stepped towards the door, the vacuum fell out of my hand and scraped a good three inches of skin from the delicate edge of my ankle. I answered the door limping, a trail of blood spots on the wood floor behind me. There he stood, holding a tin of tea in his hands. He immediately knelt down and took my foot in his hand.

“You are hurt. Do you have Neosporin?” He asked.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Come in. I have food on the stove. Can I take your coat?”

“Really, let me help you with this.” He insisted.

“It’s fine.” I tried to convince him as the blood oozed onto the wood floors. “You brought tea?”

We both looked at the tin of tea in his hands.

“Well, I know you don’t drink. And you always order tea at the bar, so I brought you some tea.” He handed it to me.

“How about a band aid?” he sweetly asked.

“Okay. Fine.”

He helped me into the bathroom where I sat on the sink while he cleaned the wound. I was glad I had decided to shave my legs after all.

“No Neosporin?” He asked.

“Nope.” I answered, anxious to move past the embarrassment of my clumsiness.

He carefully washed the skin, covered the area with some tissue and tightly wrapped two bandaids over the gaping hole. His hands were so warm and just the feel of his fingers on my delicate ankle sent a rush of heat up my spine. His gentle touch had the same impact of his chivalrous insistence upon always walking between me and a moving car, it made me feel safe.

“You really should make sure you get something else on that before you go to bed.”

“I’ll be fine doctor.” I said, scooting off the edge of the bathroom sink and onto the floor.

I made an angel hair pasta with a home made sun dried tomato sauce tossed with jumbo shrimp and chopped arugula. We ate out of big pasta bowls and hovered over a scrabble board listening to Frank Sinatra on my XM radio. He impressed me with his eight letter words and elevated grasp of the English language. I relished the wrinkle of his brow as he gazed over his letters trying to find the perfect word to impress me. We laughed at each other, told funny stories and relaxed in the comfort of a warm home. He wasn’t afraid to challenge my spelling. He did the dishes before a knock came at the door.

When I answered the door, it was Gabe’s roommate passing by after work to pick him up. She had a tube of Neosporin in her hand and spoke with her thick Italian accent,

“Gabe asked me to bring this from the first aid kit at work.”

She handed me the tube and went back to sit in her car to wait for Gabe.

“Make sure you get some on that cut before you go to sleep.” He said. He kissed me goodnight in the doorway and held me in a tight embrace for what felt like many minutes. I felt my toes tingle, heat racing through my body with the increased pulse of my heart. He gently rubbed the side of his freshly shaven cheek against my forehead. He had shaved for me too.

“Goodnight,” was all he said and stepped out the front door where he waited for me to lock the gate and the door before he walked towards his roommates car.

I knew from that very first night that Gabe was going to be someone significant in my story. In just three dates, he had already done more to make me feel special than any other man I had ever dated. And I let him.

More Gear and Registry Essentials, Part II (12 Days to Baby)

According to my mother, it’s time for me to finish up listing my registry essentials. Apparently these gear posts are a bit boring to the mom’s no longer in the consumer trenches.

“Back when you were a baby, we didn’t have all these fancy options. We made our own baby carriers out of twine and backpack frames. And you have seen the photos of you coming home from the hospital – there was no car seat.”

I’ve seen the photos. In the first one, my mother is sitting in the passenger seat, smiling a toothy grin at the man on the other side of the camera, protecting a little white bundle on her lap. Her skin looks soft and dewy and fresh and she oozes joy. Her pretty blue dress matches a ribbon woven through her perfectly coiffed hair. This is a happy mother. In the next photo, there is my father. His youthful, tall and lanky frame is emphasized by his proud pose, hands on his hips like a superhero. He smiles as if someone just told a funny joke and while his eyes are disguised by a pair of thick rimmed Buddy Holly glasses, you can see the ambition and the confidence in his gaze. This young couple is so clearly overflowing with joy at the promise of a future filled with bottle feeding and diaper changes.

“When you were little, I had the toughest time getting you to sleep. I would put you in the crib for a nap or down for the night and you were perfectly happy to just sit in your crib and play with your books and toys. I would stand outside the door and listen to you talk to your toys. I needed you to sleep. So, I finally cleared every single toy out of the crib and left you nothing but a blanket. Oh, I felt so guilty. I thought for sure you would erupt in tears. But I stood outside the door, and could still hear you in their talking away. Well, I went into the room and found you playing with the tassles on your blanket. You had a Mommy tassle and a Daddy tassle, an Erik tassle, a Katryn tassle, a Kirsten tassle and a little tassle that was meant to be the family dog. You found some way to make that blanket into a dollhouse and I just gave up! So no matter what you think you need to have for your little girl, just remember that kids don’t need all the little things we think they do.”

Thanks Mom. And since yesterday was your birthday, I will hurry through these last five registry essentials.

The Diaper Genie

The only thing my father insisted we purchase was a diaper genie. I had no idea what this was until he explained, “It’s for dirty diapers, so your entire house doesn’t smell like baby crap.” This handy little device opens when you step on the little foot pedal and makes an airtight seal when you take your foot off the pedal. It contains a deodorizer and can be sealed off at the top whenever you are ready to take out the trash. My mom told me that if we didn’t get one, we were not likely to get a visit from my father. We registered for the Diaper Genie II Elite Pail System and a 3 pack of bag refills.

(We thank Kevin and Mary for keeping our house smelling fresh for Papas next visit)

The Baby Bath

Did you know that you are supposed to bathe an infant nightly? Nightly! That’s a lot of bathing. And for two people that live in an old Brownstone with a bathroom that basically sits on the fire escape and runs about 25 degrees in the winter months, we knew right away we were going to have to bathe our baby in the kitchen sink. Sink bathing requires a small tub and eliminates most of the available options. We were rethinking our strategy when I stumbled upon this Infant To Toddler Tub with Sling. Despite being an awful bright shade of pink plastic, it fits perfectly in our kitchen sink, has a little sling for a newborn and includes a caddy for our little washcloths and soaps. It got great reviews on Amazon and at $17.99, it was way cheaper then all the other models.

The Swing’n’Bounce

My sister-in-law insisted that we need something to put our baby in that would shut her up immediately when nothing else would.

“It will be your favorite baby gadget,” She assured me.

We surveyed the options, read the safety ratings and took our BuyBuyBaby Gearologist’s recommendation and went for the Graco LIttle Jungle Swing N Bounce. After an afternoon putting it together, we found the perfect spot for all its adorableness. This little toy makes me want to be curl up in fetal position and let it rock me to sleep. We love the little giraffes and can’t wait to place our little bundle into its super soft vibrating, swinging, singing seat.

(Susan and John gave us the worlds largest box at my baby shower and inside of it was a much smaller and more manageable box that contained this fabulous swing’n’bounce for which we are incredibly thankful)

The Breast Pump

I promise, no photos. Gabe and I decided that we want to breast feed and pump in between so that we can both feed the baby. To do this, you actually need a breast pump. I had no idea what this was or how it worked or what it cost. Well breast pumps allow you to extract and store your milk. You stick these funnel like devices over your nipples and flick a switch that starts pumping out your breast milk into a tube that runs to a bottle. Have you ever seen someone milk a cow? Well it’s kinda like that. Except that breast pumps have really evolved and depending on how much you want to spend, you can get one that you have to manually pump or you can get one that pumps for you. Hands-free pumps are expensive, with some over $400. We pooled our BuyBuyBaby gift certificates and coupons and for $245 bought this Medela Pump in Style Advanced Breast Pump with Backpack. I have absolutely no idea how it will work or if I will ever use it. I pulled it out of the bag and tried to hook it up the other day and the whole thing just freaked me out. I’ll keep you posted on this.

Storage Bins

Now that we have all these lovely gadgets, toys, blankets, washcloths, burp cloths, and diaper products where do we stick them? I saw the perfect little cubby bench at Pottery Barn and then I found it for about $300 less on Amazon. Behold, the Monterey Cubbie Bench.This beauty will keep us organized and Daddy can use his new label maker to be sure we don’t mix up the bins. For me, this cubbie was a registry essential and it really helped turn our bedroom into more of a nursery.

So Mom, I think that about does it for our registry essentials. However, I reserve the right to keep you informed as baby tries out all her new gear. What we have should hold us through the first six months of babies life. And should we find ourselves in need, I know where to go for the twine.