Friday, August 31, 2012

Sleep?! What the F*@k Is That?

A few nights ago (really more like 3am) I was trying to wax poetic about my insomnia; so for my Facebook status I posted. "O' sleep where art thou?" as I was clearly lacking in it. Now, as if you couldn't tell from my headline- I'm over trying to be quaint and I'm just down right pissy. I understand that this is Mother Nature's way of preparing me for when Baby Bean arrives and I get sleep maybe in 2 hour intervals after feedings. But can't Mother Nature wait just a few more weeks?! I mean good Lord I've still got 8 weeks to go. Can't this madness start in another 4 -5 weeks. What's the rush MN?

I really don't think I'm asking for that much. I'm someone can do wonders with five even four hours of sleep. I've never been a BIG sleeper as it is- even in childhood. Do you remember the good old days in preschool when after playtime and snacks you'd grab your totally uncomfortable macrame- like mat and lay on it for a quick 20- 30 minute nap? 

I could NEVER get into that. In fact it was so bad that my mom just had to write a note to the powers that be on my behalf saying that it was fine to let me stay up. All they had to do was stick me in a corner and give me a book and I was good to go. Now looking back I'm like what the hell was wrong with me? 'Cause as this point in my life I would pay somebody to make me take a nap in the middle of the day. But I guess I'm 30 + years late and a dollar short on that one.
What gets me now about this insomnia BS is that it's not like I'm not exhausted. Running around New York City, having shows, going on auditions etc., meeting up with friends for lunch or dinner, walking to the subway, trudging up and down the stairs in the ridiculous August heat with super swollen legs and feet (trust me I could put Hilary Clinton's cankles to shame) all I want to do when I get home is conk out. But I can't. 

I can't relax. I can't quiet my brain. I can't get comfortable. Well, that's not entirely true, I can do those things just not all three at once. And on the super rare chance that I do get the magic mojo for sleep working in my favor that's just when Baby Bean thinks it's time for a Zumba class to take place in my womb.  I can't tell y'all how many times I've been kicked in the ribs at 6am- just when I'm starting to doze off.

I know I can't take anything- nor do I want to medicate myself. But I am open to any and all natural methodologies. If you told me I had to stand on my head for 5 minutes with an ice pack on my vagina and that would give me a good solid 6 hours of sleep I'd be willing to try it. I am seriously that desperate.  

Just an FYI I am in a contest for the 25 Top Mom Blogs of NY- I would SO appreciate your vote ONLY a 10 days left. You don't have to give any personal info just click the button by my name from this link:

Thank you for the LOVE!

Friday, August 24, 2012

An Orgasmic Birth? Um, Yeah, I'll Have What She's Having!

With the due date of my baby steadily creeping up. I've been inundated with checking things off my MUST DO/ MUST HAVE list. Found a pediatrician I'm in love with. Check. Been accumulating cloth diapers and accessories. Check. Secured a midwife and birthing center. Check. If you read my previous post Apparently Midwife is a Bad Word, then you know my husband CJ and I are planning to go as natural a route a possible with Baby Bean's arrival. That means ideally there will be no hospitalization, doctors, forceps, vacuums, IV drips or needles i.e. EPIDURALS involved. 
I've had plenty of needles in my life for allergy shots and blood tests etc, but is that not the scariest f*#king thing you've ever seen?
Now keep in mind this is my first kid- and I'm still a bit weary. I'm not gonna lie. Since I've not had the experience of squeezing something the size of a small watermelon out of a hole the size of a lemon I'm a touch nervous. I do not have ANY reference whatsoever to the pain that will most likely be involved. 

But I really want to go the no drug route for my sake and Baby Bean's. I have no doubt that it will be better for both of us. So I plan to get my relaxation, meditation, and "Hypnobirthing" on... See, I've been doing my research. Which is actually why I had to write about this as soon as I heard about it: Orgasmic Births! (I kid you not.)

As far as I know- none of my friends have had one- at least they haven't shared if they did. But there are women out there who would swear on a stack of O Magazines that they've experienced the sensation of an orgasm while giving birth. That may creep some people out, but grow up- it's not sexual, just as breast feeding your little one ISN'T sexual. 

From what I gather it's just this warm tingling feeling that permeates your whole body and releases the "feel good" chemicals that come with the "Big O". But since it's never happened to me  (the orgasmic birth not the Big O), but fingers crossed it does, I don't know if it's fact or fiction. But IF there is even the slightest possibility that I can feel that much pleasure from this magical but otherwise extremely uncomfortable experience- sign me up 'cause I'm ALL for it. Who the heck wouldn't be?!

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Why Am I Such A Cry Baby?!

So at 31 weeks Baby Bean is on the fast track for development. 

Fingers and toes have been here for a while- as evidenced by the thumb sucking we caught at the first ultra sound and the playing with toes at the third one. But now, eyes and ears are developed, Baby Bean is even blinking now. CJ and I are convinced the sense of humor has been in the making for some time and there's lots of movement going on. All good stuff. I won't be surprised at all if I give birth to an athlete, a dancer, or yes, even a kick boxer. (see My Olympic Embryo).

I've been reading and hearing from folks that now IS the time to really talk and sing to my child. That's all fine and good. Growing up I was in choir in middle school, high school and even church. I'd like to think I've got a decent enough voice, they didn't kick me out, right?. However, I can't read music, but I can play the piano by ear a little. I do love music even if I prefer stuff from the 80's and yes, I love Barry Manilow- which technically makes me a "Blanilow" (a Black Barry Manilow fan). I have reason to believe that's a rare thing because when I went to his concert a few years ago at Madison Square Garden there were only 4 other Black people there- 3 of them were his back up singers. I wish that was just a joke from my act, but it's actually true.

But I digress. What I'm trying to confess is that every time I start to sing to my Little One- be it a nursery rhyme or a hymn that I remember from church and private school- I start to cry.

I'm not sobbing uncontrollably, but it does affect the quality of the song. I'm not crying sad tears, just super sentimental sweet tears. I am so happy to be carrying this child- something that for years I've wanted, but as my past relationships either didn't mature or turned sour I didn't think I'd ever have. So it's a combination of gratitude and love that is the emotion that overwhelms me and I can't get through "An Irish Lullaby" or "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star". WTF??!!

Has this ever happened to anyone else? My kid's going to think I can only sing in staccato.  

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Apparently Midwife is a BAD Word...

***So I'm in a contest for the 25 Top Mom Blogs of NY- would SO appreciate your vote ONLY a 13 days left. You don't have to give any personal info just click the button:

I say this because as soon as I told my doctor that I had a midwife and was planning to use her. She gave me an attitude like I'd just dropped the C-bomb in her office. 
My doctor's demeanor completely changed; she went from this super-friendly lady I'd met 6 months ago to Omarosa. She didn't come right out and say, "So, Karith when did you become a traitor to the medical profession?" But she did ask me what my reasoning was. When I proclaimed that I wanted to do as natural a birth as possible, you would have thought I'd just removed my panties and peed right there on her floor (something that could have happened had I sneezed too hard - see: Didja Pee A Little?) Then to add insult to injury I said, "Plus I don't want to be shot up with Pitocin if I don't need it." Well, that was the dump on her floor heard 'round the world.

Since becoming pregnant and trying to do as much research as we could without becoming overly obsessed (which can happen) my husband CJ and I have found that there is a HUGE disparity between how women should be allowed to have babies in America and what years of medicine and the people who practice medicine want women to give birth. And what it seems to come down to is $$$ MONEY $$$ and a matter of convenience for doctors. 

It's not just my opinion- it's fact- women are NOT meant to be lying flat on their backs pushing a 6 -10lb baby out of their vaginas. The pelvis gets in the way big time and makes it harder and more painful for the body to do what it was designed to do.
We're supposed to squat or lie on our sides or contort our bodies to the most comfortable positions we can like MOST women outside of America currently do now and how women have been doing it for centuries. We're only supposed to have cesarean sections when absolutely necessary- not for convenience- the doctors or our own designer baby birthdates. 

It is MAJOR surgery meant to save either the woman's life or the life of the baby. (It also happens to be faster and more money can be made from doing them.) I'm not judging anyone who chooses to do it that way. It absolutely should be "your body, your choice"; but it's not set up that way in hospitals today.

After making dozens of calls I couldn't find ONE SINGLE hospital in NYC or SoCal that would let me a) use a birthing bar or b) have Baby Bean in water. Hence why we made the decision going to a birthing center and pay thousands of dollars out of pocket. But ironically what we're paying is still 1/4 of what the hospitals charge and the insurance pays. So you'd think from a financial standpoint insurance companies would be behind midwifery 110%. So not the case and it's SO incredibly frustrating when you really get to look at the facts and stats. 

Here's the deal: hospitals are for SICK people and EMERGENCIES - I visited them frequently as a patient while a teenager so I can speak to this. Having a baby is one of THE most natural things that can happen and if it's treated that way- not rushed because Dr. So-and-so wants to go on get to the Katy Perry concert on time or go vacay a little early. Don't get me wrong I 100% believe hospitals have their place which is why I won't be more than 15 minutes from one when Baby Bean does come into the world. 

But I don't want someone rushing me OR my baby. I don't want extra bacteria exposure (because hospitals ARE for sick people!) I don't want drugs shot into me to make my contractions come harder and faster because America's Got Talent Finals are on. I don't want florescent lights shining down on me and Baby Bean when we're trying to be as relaxed as possible. I also don't want different strangers coming in and out of my room telling me what I should and shouldn't be doing.

Not ACTUALLY Karith & CJ, but the image we hope to capture.
I want to be free to move around, to have my husband behind me, rubbing my back and loving me and cheering me on in a giant tub of warm water. (We're Cancerians- so nothing could be more soothing). I want to be comfortable and fully cognizant when I'm experiencing the most magical amazing thing I will EVER do on this planet. And I want more than anything to bring a happy healthy alert baby into the world. I pray that that isn't just my birth "plan" but reality. And I hope that everyone has or has had an equally wonderful birth experience.

Friday, August 17, 2012

Am I Pushing My Fetus Too Hard?

***So I'm in a contest for the 25 Top Mom Blogs of SoCal- would SO appreciate your vote here- ONLY a few days left:

Get it! Baby Einstein

I hate copping to this, but I think I might be pushing my unborn baby too hard already. I've definitely got the essentials going to help Baby Bean get ahead in life. I mean what mother doesn't want their little nugget at the head of the "baby class".  

 So while I've had the opportunity  to take advantage of my 3 free months of Sirius/XM in Baby Bean's new car we've been indulging in in the Comedy Channels (of course), the Classical music station and even more NPR than regular! I've also been ready to Baby Bean from the baby and children's books that have started to come in as shower gifts.

I've been taking the recommended supplements both my doctor and midwife suggests from my Raw Prenatal Vitamins to the extra iron to strengthen my blood supply, the calcium magnesium for our bones (and to keep me regular) and Vitamin D- 'cause I'm deficient in that area period. Oh and just to be safe DHA for Baby Bean's brain development. (Forever I was calling it DHL- but my darling husband corrected me when he said with a crinkled face, "Isn't that the delivery service?" 

My faux pas aside and the very reason for this blog entry is because one of the very first purchases CJ and I made when we first found out we were prego was this:

I knowah!  Not a car seat, a crib, a baby blanket or  pack 'n snack (as CJ refers to the Pack n' Play)- but a child ready toilet seat. The kid's not even in diapers let alone ready to come out of them yet! Although if CJ had his way this baby will be toilet trained by 6 months- like the Russians apparently like to do. (See My Child a Future NASCAR Driver?! WTF?!) 

Part of me gets it although part of me thinks it's just wrong- like of like Chuck E. Cheese. Sure, it's your intentions are good- yet the experience could be traumatizing. And let's be honest sometimes things can happen too soon in life- like a giant rat is serving you pizza. Am I wrong?

Saturday, August 11, 2012

The XXX Factor

And no, I'm not talking about the 30th Olympics. I'm talking about something that's probably happened to ALL of us at least once in our lives. But it happens A LOT more at night when you're deep in sleep and your pregnancy hormones take a hold.  Not that you really get THAT much sleep with you're this far along. Hello, it's hard to find a comfortable position, Baby is moving around like they're auditioning for the fetal version of America's Got Talent, and you get hot flashes like your middle-aged high school math teacher who's always sipping on her ice coffee that's WAY more ice than coffee.

I'll warn you now, if you’re a prude you may want to skip this blog entry. ‘Cause I’m going to air some truly dirty laundry. The good news is I know I’m not the only one, but I don’t know how many women will freely share about this. Since becoming pregnant I have been having some FREAKY dreams and I don’t mean I dream that I’m walking down the street and halfway down the road a talking unicorn shows up and offers me a lift to the Macy’s One Day sale. (Although that would be awesome.)
 I mean I’ve been having Rick James type of freaky, Too Short, Prince (before he was a Jehovah's Witness) type of freaky dreams. Where sometimes my husband is there, sometimes he’s not- sometimes there's another girl (I knowah!) but there’s ALWAYS a lack of clothes- usually mine and that someone else’s. I won't go into any more detail 'cause this is a "family friendly" blog. But feel free to use your imagination.  

I don’t know why I’m having these incredibly intense sexual dreams- is it the hormones? Is it my mind preparing me for the “little break” I’m going to have to take after birth- so it’s getting it all in now. I don’t know, but sometimes I wake up flushed. Sometimes I wake up a little embarrassed that I was SO uninhibited. But I always wake with a smile on my face!

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Psychic Mommy

So I'm not a psychic, but I did play one on the radio this morning and I think through osmosis via the part I'm starting to develop some psychic abilities. For example I can foresee it being JUST me who's going to be getting up in the middle of the night in just a few short months. 

Case in point, I had to be on the air at 6am Eastern Time- that's 3am Pacific Time for those of you who are still a little too groggy to do the math. Either time is too frappin' early to be up if you ask me. But I'm also a comic who's preferred bedtime is 2:30/3am after my high from a show has worn off and the burst of creative genius has subsided. But I made myself go to bed early last night- 1:30am ET since I'm in NYC for a few weeks. 

I set my alarm to go off at 5:40am so that I'd have enough time to get up make some tea and not sound like Kathleen Turner after smoking a pack of Marlboros. BTW I kicked butt on the call, but I'm still a touch bothered by what happened just before.

My handy dandy alarm on my phone goes off and my Darling Husband, CJ, elbows me to get me to get up and shut it off. He didn't make a sound- there was no angry groaning as there could have been since he had the same bedtime, but there was also no, "Sweetheart- it's time to get up." or "Babe your alarm's going off". It wasn't a rude "I'm annoyed" shove but it was also up for interpretation as being a "You need to get that because I won't be able to finish my peaceful sleep" nudge. All of this non-vocal behavior leads me to believe that in a few short months when our sweet little Baby Bean is crying to be fed or changed it will be moi who will be doing 99.9% of the attending.

I fully understand that I'll be the only food source for quite some time- I should already get T-shirts made up that say "Milk Bar Open- 24 hours"- like IHOP. But I do plan on pumping and I hope he has some plans to do midnight feedings 'cause my being up at the crack of dawn or as my Aussie husband says, "The crack of a sparrows fart," when I'm NOT a morning person isn't going to fly. 

P.S. If you like this and other of my blog entries please vote for me as I've been nominated for a Top 25 Mom Blog of SoCal. You can vote everyday for the next 13 days.

Thanks for the love and support! 

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

I AM the Stay "Puffed" Marshmallow WOMAN

No lie, I don’t remember the exact time it happened, but sometime in the past week and a half I went from looking and feeling like a normal person to the Stay Puft Marshmallow man from Ghostbusters who threatened to destroy NYC with his awesome gooey-ness.  Only I don't feel so awesome, I feel more like a sausage just poured into a really tight casing. 

Maybe it was the recent trip back home to Texas that triggered it. I went back for a roller coaster of events, my grandmother’s memorial service, a baby shower attended by my high school and childhood friends, my parents 45th wedding anniversary and my mom’s birthday- all within a span of 6 days. 

 Oh and in true Texas tradition where we have to out-do everyone in everything including the summer heat, the average temp was 101; however there was a day in there that it got up to 105. (By the way I don't know how any of my friends survived pregnancy in Texas. I have nothing but love and admiration for you. I applaud you all) The good new was it cooled off at night to about 99 which was nice – NOT! 

I think I drank my weight in water which should have helped, but I still puffed up. Well, my hands and feet did. I’m sure flying which does that to you normally didn’t help.

When my husband CJ came to pick me up from the airport he took one look at my feet and his eyes nearly popped out of his skull. Now, I’m the first to admit I don’t have the most gorgeous feet in the world. Yes, they are in proportion and fortunately I'm not riddled with crooked as toes from jamming them into high heel that were never really my size. My deal is that I have absolutely NO ARCH whatsoever- so they’re completely flat. (I guess that’s the Native American in me coming out.) So take flat already kinda chubby feet and add massing swelling and water retention and what do you get? The female Fred Flintstone or Edema- as all of the books and articles are calling it. I am pretty sure had our brakes gone out I could have stopped the car with my feet and my husband will back me up on this. Pregnancy 1 - Karith Nil.

Sunday, August 5, 2012

But I Have A Baby on Board...Sort Of...

The Art of the "Almighty Contradiction" is alive and well People! I will explain what I mean in a second.

As someone who spends a great deal of time in
Southern California- especially the Greater Los Angeles area, I'm not going to lie, one of the best parts about being married or in a relationship here is that you have another person who helps you get from point A to point B a little faster- well at least when you're in the car. That's because much like the standard 2-drink minimum at a comedy club you now meet the 2-person minimum for the HOV lane (or High Occupancy Vehicle lane). My husband, CJ, swears that's why I married him. That and because at 6 feet 4 inches- an entire foot taller than me- he can reach the really high schtuff off of our kitchen shelves.

While those are clearly not the ONLY reasons I married my darling husband I do count them among the bonuses. And I would think being prego would afford me the same kind of bonuses. (I broached that topic a couple of months ago in another entry- Pregnancy Bonuses- Say What?)

Classic example- I LOVE LOVE LOVE that I get special "expectant  mother" parking @ BabiesRUs. (It's awesome! It's kind of like handicap parking cause you get to park right there near the front of the store.) 

I, however, believe the same sort of courtesy should be extended to me when it's just me & Baby Bean in the car ALL THE TIME but esp. when I'm on the highway- not wanting to be stuck in s#!tty SoCal traffic.

Here's my incredibly logical reasoning for this. Were you to ask any of my good Fundamentalist God-fearing Christian friends about it and I should have been able to coast in the HOV lane the day after my husband & I "did the deed". 'Cause according to them I've technically got 2 people in the car when it's just little 'ol prego me right now.

But heck at 28 weeks even my  Pro-Choicer friends would have to agree
  there's another living active person in there! So why then does the state of Californ-IA- deny me the right to drive in the HOV lane pregnant?!

Does that not reek of hypocrisy?! Is that not a huge slap in the face
  to all pregos in urban areas? Bad lawmakers! Bad!

Saturday, August 4, 2012

My Olympic Embryo

Well, I suppose Baby Bean is officially a fetus- no longer an empbryo but really, who wants to be "labeled" so soon in life- right?

I don't know if this kid is being influenced via osmosis by my
watching the 30th Summer Olympic games- but Baby Bean is acting like it. The last time CJ and I went for a sonogram  Bean was playing with his/her toes. (Yeah, it was pretty adorable.) But as my husband says, "What else do babies have to do in there- it's not like they can text."

The way this Little One is moving about I could easily have a swimmer, a gymnast, a fencer, boxer or martial artist on my hands. But apparently this kid will only be going for the gold after midnight.

Do they have any nocturnal Olympic competitions yet? If not let my
little athlete be the first to sign up! Baby Bean will DOMINATE!!!