As my uterus begins to take up more room and push around my other organs, I've noticed that I have to relearn how to reinterpret my basic bodily signals for hunger and urination. It's not that the signals don't exist anymore. They're just different.
Urination I expected. Everyone knows the "pregnant women always feel like they have to urinate" meme. But hunger is more interesting. Because of the compression of my stomach, I always feel somewhat full, which means I have to be much more conscious of what hunger feels like and, when I eat (especially since I can't eat as much at once) more conscious of what full feels like (the consequence being a stomachache and/or nausea).
I think I'll figure it out, but it sure is odd.
Monday, January 27, 2014
Saturday, January 25, 2014
Animated pregnancy!
A neat interactive illustration of pregnancy, including how all the organs get pushed around. I'm feeling particularly sympathetic to the stomach squishing today.
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Review: Epidural Without Guilt
Epidural Without Guilt: Childbirth Without Pain
aims to offer the reader an alternative perspective on epidurals. It is also super short and has a free Kindle version, so I decided to give it a read. On the plus side, the author does a good job of describing what an epidural is and why they are not harmful to either mother or baby. On the other hand, he's a bit overly enthusiastic by epidurals — he thinks that every laboring woman should get an epidural as soon as she gets to the hospital.
The thing is the author may be right, for the type of birth that he expects a woman to be having, but he assumes a fairly standardized hospital birth experience which does not involve a lot of movement on the part of the mother. He discusses how walking epidurals don't completely immobilize the mother — depending on the strength of the epidural, the woman may still be able to walk around and, regardless, should be able to get to the bathroom, change positions occasionally, and feel herself push. However, many birth positions and intermediate coping techniques would be hindered by being attached to a bag on a pole. The author might claim that these coping techniques are unnecessary if the woman isn't experiencing pain, but the author did not address the point directly.
The other weakness of the book is that the author equates pain and suffering. Unlike the author's claims most of the materials I read don't try to make women feel guilty about getting epidurals[1], but they do try to distinguish between the sensation of pain and the mental experience of suffering. If you are suffering, the general opinion seems to be, of course you should get an epidural. But if you're not experiencing the pain as suffering, you can try these other techniques. Not because the epidural is bad, but because it changes the birth experience in a way that some women don't want.
This is probably a good book to read if you worry about feeling guilty if you get an epidural. If what you want is a discussion to help you decide for yourself if and when you want an epidural, then this book, with it's flat recommendations, is not for you.
[1] That said, I don't read pregnancy forums and the like.
The thing is the author may be right, for the type of birth that he expects a woman to be having, but he assumes a fairly standardized hospital birth experience which does not involve a lot of movement on the part of the mother. He discusses how walking epidurals don't completely immobilize the mother — depending on the strength of the epidural, the woman may still be able to walk around and, regardless, should be able to get to the bathroom, change positions occasionally, and feel herself push. However, many birth positions and intermediate coping techniques would be hindered by being attached to a bag on a pole. The author might claim that these coping techniques are unnecessary if the woman isn't experiencing pain, but the author did not address the point directly.
The other weakness of the book is that the author equates pain and suffering. Unlike the author's claims most of the materials I read don't try to make women feel guilty about getting epidurals[1], but they do try to distinguish between the sensation of pain and the mental experience of suffering. If you are suffering, the general opinion seems to be, of course you should get an epidural. But if you're not experiencing the pain as suffering, you can try these other techniques. Not because the epidural is bad, but because it changes the birth experience in a way that some women don't want.
This is probably a good book to read if you worry about feeling guilty if you get an epidural. If what you want is a discussion to help you decide for yourself if and when you want an epidural, then this book, with it's flat recommendations, is not for you.
[1] That said, I don't read pregnancy forums and the like.
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Nausea, Fatigue, and Privilege
First trimester: you feel sick, you feel tired, and tradition states that you're generally not supposed to tell people much about why[1]. It's like having a light flu for eight weeks — it's not painful, but it's kind of miserable.
I managed to adapt. I carried around my emergency backup tupperware[2], learned to sit near the front of the bus (especially on double buses), went to bed early, and stopped feeling guilty about taking a break during the day or sleeping in and getting in late. I figured out what foods I could reliably eat, and they were available every day. My husband was there to take on the parts of the load at home I couldn't handle and make sure I ate, even when everything sounded disgusting. I appreciated having the worst of my nausea during the holiday season — you can eat a whole candy cane without getting the looks you'd get if you downed a whole bag of peppermints in the same time.
I was several weeks into my period of nausea and fatigue when I realized that much of my ability to adapt was due to the flexibility I have in my job, and much of my willingness to adapt was because this is a very wanted baby. I started to imagine what it would be like to deal with this if I had an inflexible job — a job where being late means getting fired, a job where I have no control over my hours (or no fixed hours at all), a job where taking a day off means not getting paid, a job where I couldn't schedule my breaks when I needed them. Or imagine if I didn't want the pregnancy, if I were forced to spend weeks feeling like my performance and happiness suffered. Even worse if I was contending against both. Suppose I had another child and no partner but somehow had to keep my home running while feeling barely able to take care of myself.
I am extremely fortunate to be carrying a baby I want in a situation where I have support and incredible flexibility. A pregnancy is only an "inconvenience" a woman is too selfish to put up with if she's fortunate. When even a couple of days of being sick is the difference between being able to pay the rent or not, when you don't have much choice in what you have available to eat, when you can't get the sleep your body so desperately needs, pregnancy is a huge challenge, and one that no one should be forced to take involuntarily.
[1] Because the chance of miscarriage is high enough. Many people find it harder to deal with the disappointment of loss if they also have to deal with the grief or sympathy of others.
[2] Much easier to handle than a plastic bag if you won't be getting off the bus for awhile yet.
I managed to adapt. I carried around my emergency backup tupperware[2], learned to sit near the front of the bus (especially on double buses), went to bed early, and stopped feeling guilty about taking a break during the day or sleeping in and getting in late. I figured out what foods I could reliably eat, and they were available every day. My husband was there to take on the parts of the load at home I couldn't handle and make sure I ate, even when everything sounded disgusting. I appreciated having the worst of my nausea during the holiday season — you can eat a whole candy cane without getting the looks you'd get if you downed a whole bag of peppermints in the same time.
I was several weeks into my period of nausea and fatigue when I realized that much of my ability to adapt was due to the flexibility I have in my job, and much of my willingness to adapt was because this is a very wanted baby. I started to imagine what it would be like to deal with this if I had an inflexible job — a job where being late means getting fired, a job where I have no control over my hours (or no fixed hours at all), a job where taking a day off means not getting paid, a job where I couldn't schedule my breaks when I needed them. Or imagine if I didn't want the pregnancy, if I were forced to spend weeks feeling like my performance and happiness suffered. Even worse if I was contending against both. Suppose I had another child and no partner but somehow had to keep my home running while feeling barely able to take care of myself.
I am extremely fortunate to be carrying a baby I want in a situation where I have support and incredible flexibility. A pregnancy is only an "inconvenience" a woman is too selfish to put up with if she's fortunate. When even a couple of days of being sick is the difference between being able to pay the rent or not, when you don't have much choice in what you have available to eat, when you can't get the sleep your body so desperately needs, pregnancy is a huge challenge, and one that no one should be forced to take involuntarily.
[1] Because the chance of miscarriage is high enough. Many people find it harder to deal with the disappointment of loss if they also have to deal with the grief or sympathy of others.
[2] Much easier to handle than a plastic bag if you won't be getting off the bus for awhile yet.
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