I just want to be a better mom than my mom was. Actually, by not leaving my children when the oldest was two years old I have achieved that task. But, still...

My son has always preferred his dad over me. I mean, he loves me, that's obvious. But if given the choice between hanging out with mom or hanging out with dad, he chooses his dad. This hurts my feelings, because I think I'm pretty awesome, and we always seem to have a good time. But it's getting worse now that he's older. It also seems to be getting worse now that his dad is getting married. I feel this strange competition now between the new stepmom and myself. I know it's absurd.

So, it's career day at my son's school. I teach GED, and I'm really proud of what I do. I don't brag about my job a lot, so I though this would be a great time for me to do that. I also want to do anything I can to be involved in what's going on at his school. But when I picked him up yesterday, he had written a note to his dad (a shoe salesman) asking HIM to come and speak at career day. ( Not me... Dad.

So I told my son I was planning on doing that and asked him why he didn't invite me to speak. He said that I didn't have a job. HE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW I HAD A JOB!!! I also work as a sub at his school, and he said I'm "only" a sub and he didn't think that was a job. That hurts my feelings also.

When I discussed this with his dad, his dad talked to him. He just called me this morning and told me that our son said he wanted his dad to speak because his friends already know what I do. This also hurts my feelings.

I really want to speak at career day. My feelings are also always getting hurt by this kid and I'm seriously sick of it. He's a really, really great kid! But he is so tactless with his comments!!

My questions are these: Should I just go ahead and do career day regardless of what my son says? I think both his dad and I can do it. Secondly, how do I teach my son some tact, and how do I get him to understand that you have to think before you say things out loud! Also, what am I doing wrong that my kid doesn't like me? I'm tired of the mom/dad/stepmom competition. I know, I know. He's a kid, he doesn't HAVE to like me, et cetera, et cetera. But the point is, it's important to me that my son and I have a good relationship. I think we had that at one point, but it's gone now and I don't know how to get it back.

Is anyone online right now that has any kind of insight or experience with their 8 year olds in this?

I've become slack recently in tending to the needs of the little Valorie inside that needs to create things. My poor guitar is mocking me in the corner over there. (Stop looking at me like that, guitar!) So I've dedicated myself to writing a thing a day, whether it's a song, a poem, a short story, or a paragraph of a short story. Maybe I'll draw a picture. I even bought a brand new little journal for this task. If I can stick to the commitment, I may even post a blog with all my little goodies!

This is Day One. I started off my Write-a-day with a poem. Wanna hear it? Here it is:

My Body

I love my body.
I love the way
My calloused feet
Land on the cool, slick floor
And carry me to my
Desired destination.

I love my body.
I love the way
My hands
Run across my
Love-worn face,
Lined with years of laughter.

I love my body.
I love the way
My crooked arms
Lift my children out of bed
And wrap around to a comforting
Embrace.

I love my body.
I love the way
My clothes
Fail to fit just right.
Tailor-made for the masses, I am
Unique.

I love my body.

(P.S.- If you are my facebook friends, I copy/pasted this there as well. Though I think HM would appreciate it more! )

I don't have a fussy baby. I also don't have a fussy eight year old son. If the baby is fussy, it's usually because she is hungry, bored, or sleepy; all of these things are easily remedied. So, when she was in her super-fantastic-magical-saucer, which she loves so, and started fussing, the first thing I did was try to feed her.

Nope. She wasn't hungry.

The next thing I tried to do was entertain her. I made a fish face. I used funny voices. I bounced her on my knee while I sang "Thumbelina".

Nope. That didn't work.

Next, I tried to rock her to sleep. I do this thing where I hold her on my lap wrapped in a snuggly blanket while I simultaneously rock her back and forth and pat her on the back. This almost always works.

It didn't work.

I cycled through all of these things twice before realizing that she smelled horrible. Even worse, just as soon as I realized this, my usually mild-mannered son decided to whine at me that he wanted a turn to use the TV in the middle of my Hercules-a-thon! "Mom! Come on! It's my turn! Besides you've seeeeeeen this one before! When do I get a turn? I want to play Zeldaaaaa!"

Snap, snap, snap went my patience. I usually keep a high amount of this patience stuff around, just in case. But this time, it snapped. Then, I snapped. I snapped at my son. I snapped at the cat. I snapped at the baby. Then, I went upstairs and changed the shitty diaper into a fresh one and came back downstairs to run the gamut of food, entertainment, and nap again.

Again, none of these things worked. Confused and frustrated at how unusually fussy my almost-never-fussy baby had become, and how unusually whiney my almost-never-whiney son had become, I threw my head back and yelled "PLEASE!" I set the baby down out of fear of dropping her and walked into the kitchen screaming my little head off. Each step, my voice got louder and louder until I worried that the neighbors might hear me screaming and call the police. Then I picked my head back up, after having screamed it off, and put it back on, only to hear my almost-never-rude son say "Mom! That really hurt my ears!"

Ohmyfuckinggod. Seriously, kid? That hurt your ears? Oh, so sorry. I'll try not to ever let it happen again...

...is the sarcastic thing I WANTED to say. Instead, I just leaned against the kitchen wall and cried.

My son snuck in and hugged me. Then, he ran back into the living room and made funny faces at the baby, trying to get her to laugh. It didn't work, but he tried.

Now, it's the present. My son has stopped whining at me. The baby is still crying and being all, opposite. She's the opposite of what I'm used to. I just put her on the couch and let her cry, hoping she'll fall asleep.

I am NOT a cry-it-out fan. I don't do that. But what else am I supposed to do? It's obvious that she's tired. She won't eat, won't let me put her down, won't let me hold her, and doesn't want to be entertained. She is rubbing her baggy eyes and acting very much like she'd like to sleep, but she's not sleeping.

So I just put her down and typed this blog, hoping that typing out my situation will make it seem less frustrating and terrible.

It worked. I mean, there's people starving in China, or wherever. So, it's okay. I'm not the world's worst mother. It's okay that I snapped at my son. It's okay that I screamed at the top of my lungs so loudly that I hurt people's ears. It's okay that my baby is a crazy manic right now, because she's not usually like that. I mean, there are starving people in China that would love to be where I am right now. You know, if not China, wherever.

(I want to note that as I was typing this, I had placed the weird alien baby that had replaced my baby onto my chest and let her wriggle and whine there. She is now sound asleep.

I am, of course, trapped under the weird alien baby that has replaced my baby. But at least it's quiet.)

Comments go here.

For starters, what's Miley Cyrus doing presenting? And who was that singer they showed for that song that was nominated from Nine?

V-K-I-T-T-Y. That's how.

I am currently subbing at two different schools, working at another school three nights a week teaching GED, taking classes to become a high school teacher, taking care of a baby, and taking care of an 8 year old. The 8 year old is no big deal. Actually, neither is the baby. Actually, none of those things alone are stressful. But together it's a swirling vortex of sloppy stress.

The "holy shit" moment came when I picked my son up from school and I totally yelled at him for no good reason. He's a good kid! He didn't deserve that. I apologized, lots, and explained myself. He understood, because he's so awesome!

I just wish I could figure this out. If I'm not bitching about having no job, I'm bitching about having too many. Maybe it's time to quit subbing at the elementary? I miss my friends. I miss my husband. Oh, and I really miss posting incessantly on hipmama! )

*Yawn* gotta go. I hear a nap calling me...

How can I be expected to talk to my friends if facebook is not working? I have a clever and witty update to my status, but I can't update it, because facebook is not working! I want to post a video of my kid doing something cute, otherwise my great aunt Ann in Galesburg, IL, won't know how cute he is. But facebook is not working! And did I mention this cool news article that I have to be sure that each of my 300 "friends" see? I have to post it! MUST POST! MUST POST!

*I hope that everyone is reading this with a sense of humor. I hate how my friends don't call me anymore. I asked my sister why she hadn't sent out wedding invitations the other day, and she said "don't you read my facebook posts?" Ugh. Facebook.

Seriously? Christy? "One or two more job opportunities coming your way, unexpectedly"? Were you talking to the POB (powers that be)?

So we were picking my son up from school yesterday when I got a text from my friend who works as an enrollment director for the On Track program at a local community college. This program gives classes and testing for the GED. I've desperately wanted to work for her, but positions are rarely open. I am, however, on the list to sub there. This is good, because it gives me a foot in the door.

The text says "Do you still want a job with us? I'm calling you." So she did.

And now I have a job. Well, a semi-permanent job. It's part time evenings teaching language arts! FABULOUS! And I'm still on the list to sub there as well as at my son's school! Even though it's part time, once you deduct the cost of childcare I'm left with enough that month to pay the mortgage, which is great! That's our biggest bill.

But now here's my question: When the library calls offering me that job, what shall I do? I guess I'll try this job out, see if I like it. It could be that it leads to a better position. It could be that I hate it will leave for the library. I have a good feeling about that library job. I guess this is a "when it rains it pours" kind of situation, only instead of raining shit, it's raining gumdrops!

Oh! Whoa is me! I have too many jobs to choose from! Boo hoo! (That last bit was sarcasm in order to point out how yesterday I was crying over having no job, and now I have a job and more than likely will be offered another one.)

Ask the Universe, and the Universe abides.

So here I am, graduated. I think I've already explained in earlier posts why I'm not a Montessori teacher anymore. But it's important to understand that my childhood dream was to be a teacher. Now I'm degreed and educated, and not quite sure what to do with this new aspect of my life. Isn't an education supposed to be your wings? I'm thirty-two years old and I don't know what I want to be when I grow up. I WAS a Montessori teacher. Now I'm a couch potato. Scratch that. I'm an educated couch potato.

I'm having such a hard time finding a job. Anything I want to do requires more schooling, but getting that extra schooling won't guarantee me a job either. I guess right now I'm just trying to decide what I want to do. It's important to me that my job/career/whatever is doing something that's good. I can get a degree in social work in a year or two. I can get a teaching certificate in one to two years depending on the program I choose. I can become a librarian right now based on my experience. But where can I do the most good? I'd love to be a social worker. However, teaching IS social work, and that's always been my dream. Or I suppose I can accept that being a Montessori teacher allowed me to live that dream. Library work is also very important. It's not as down and dirty as the other two, but it's much less stress. I don't need anymore stress. I have a family to care for.

I have a resume in for a job as a youth specialist at the public library. If they hire me, I think I'll use that job to decide what I'll do. The paper work involved as a social worker may make me frustrated and angry. I hate bureaucracy. I might have the same problem as a teacher. But I wonder how much good for the world I can do as a librarian? Especially at a public library in the rich folk's part of town.

Le sigh. It will come to me! I hope I get this job though. I need one, and I'd be good at it. Who knows? It may inspire me!

I graduated this past December, but not really. I have one last paper to turn in, and the grade for it has to be in in two days. I'm trying to get it done today. This student mama thing was really easy when I was mom to a 4 year old (now 8 year old). But a baby? I would have thought not having a job would give me time to get my assignments done, but not when I have to get up every minute and a half to replace a binky. Feeding takes a while. Changing her interrupts me as well. And I knew this would happen, I just didn't realize what an enormous distraction she would be! And she's even pretty mild mannered. She doesn't cry unless she's hungry (well, she whines when she drops her binky. Hold on... still there?... okay I'm back!)

So I have this one day to write this paper. I'd like to have it in within the next hour or two. Hold on... where's that blanket?... okay I'm back! Think I'll do it?

I'm waiting for her to fall asleep. I'm trying to do this while she's awake, but it's too distracting. When she falls asleep, I swear to all things in the sky I'm going to write this thing out like a madwoman. Of course, if that were the case, I'd have it written by now. Right? Sigh...

Oh! I think she's done it, I think she's fallen asleep! It was the blanket that did it... wait... maybe not. Oh no, that's it! She's asleep, all snuggly with a blanket in her swing! She's so beautiful...

Now I have to go check my facebook! I mean... write that paper...

I applied for yet another job, only this time I'm not only very qualified for it, but I might actually enjoy it. It's as a youth librarian at the public library. I have experience working with kids, experience in a library, and I have a degree. I'm not even asking for much money, just enough so that I can feed my little family.

Please please please, any good mama energy you can send please send it! I need a job, and I want THIS job!

Is it possible to go to grad school and get my Master's while taking care of an eight year old and a new little baby?

Is it possible to go to grad school, take care of an eight year old and a new little baby, and hold down a full time job?

Is it possible to go to grad school, take care of a kid and a baby, hold down a full time job, while my husband goes to grad school also?

Is it fair for my husband to tell me that I need to work full time and only get to go to school part time, doubling the time I'm in school, so that he can go full time, his reasoning being that he's 2 years older than me and needs to get his education finished and also that he worked full time and got his second bachelor's while I didn't work at all? (Forget the fact that I was also going to school and having a baby.)

One reason (of many) why I divorced my first husband is because I knew there was no way I would be able to live my life the way I wanted to in any form while being married to him. I could never be who I was. I never wanted to marry again, never wanted a relationship after that because I believed that partners mess up how I want to live my life. I married my new husband because he didn't seem to be like that. He was supportive of everything I did and never wanted me to be anything different than what I am. I felt like I could follow my dreams and still be married to my wonderful partner.

But it seems like he wants to follow his dreams while I put mine on hold. And we all know what happens when you put your dreams on hold. I seriously thought I was going to go to grad school in the fall. There's no way we can both do it AND one of us work full time!

So what do I do? I can give in, go find a crappy job somewhere to support us, and let him follow his dream, but then I'm stuck in a crappy job. Or I can follow my own, but then I'm the shitty wife.

GRRRRRR!!!! I'm a bear.

I GRADUATED FROM COLLEGE!

Holy shit.

I've never finished anything before.

My husband and I have been married for 1 year as of this past august, and we still haven't sent thank you notes.

My daughter is 2mos. old. Nope. No thank yous sent.

I never did officially finished my Montessori certification. I'm trained, and I'm experienced, which wins me a place in most Montessori schools in this sad area of the world. But I didn't finish the paperwork and now it's too late. I'd have to start all over again.

Guitar lessons? Quit. Karate? I don't go like I ought to. Marriages? I'm on the second one. I don't finish things!

But guess what. I finished college. So there. And when I met up with my family after the ceremony was over, my son hugged me and said "You're the smartest mommy-wommy!" I said thank you. Heh. I'm one smart mommy-wommy!

I'm changing careers at 32 years old! That's okay, right? I mean, lots of people do that, right?

As stated in an earlier post, I'm graduating from college for the very first time this week. I have previously found absolute happiness and peace within myself as a Montessori teacher, but I can no longer do this job because of my stupid food allergies. This has left a huge hole in my life and in my heart, and I've been trying to figure out how to fill it for a good two years now. This degree I'm getting was supposed to make me a better paid Montessori teacher, but now it seems it will only serve me well at parties when I spout useless historical knowledge. I might be better at Trivial Pursuit. I don't know.

But here's my new plan, and I'm sticking to it:
I'll get a full time job. Any job will do. My husband's job makes him cry, literally, so I will relieve him of that be becoming the breadwinner for a few months. Then, I will apply to grad school, where I'm sure to be accepted 'cuz I'm a smarty pants! I'll work full time now through fall, and when fall arrives, depending on what's going on in our lives at that time, I'll go either full or part time to earn my Master's in Social Work. Then I will be a social worker.

But I don't want to be the horrible woman that takes kids away from their moms. I'll be looking for a job in a hospital or youth center or such.

And that's the plan. Phew. I can't tell you how much better I feel! When I was a Montessori teacher, I felt like I was saving the world. Well, I was saving the future world by helping the kids become peaceful adults. But maybe I can save the world as a social worker. And I'll ALWAYS be a Montessorian at heart. No one can take that away from me.

I have to admit, though, I feel like I'm getting a late start on life. BA at 32, my MSW will come at 33 or 34, I already have a son fast approaching puberty. I've always feel like I've been behind on life and had to constantly work to catch up. I know it's irrational. How can I shake this feeling of never being quite where I need to be? Must I always be chasing the bus?

I think I might actually graduate. It's all contingent on whether or not a certain professor will take pity on me. But I can do it. I have a final today and couple papers to upload and I'll be a college graduate. An unemployed college graduate. A highly educated and well-spoken couch potato. Mmm... potatoes...

I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to do with myself. Montessori teaching is no longer an option. Teaching history requires two more years of school to become certified. If I'm going to go to school for two more years I may as well get my master's! Maybe social work? I don't know what to do. I've been in school for more than 5 years and it's what I do. I'm not sure I can do much else.

But, at least I'm educated and degreed sitting around not knowing what to do with myself. So, there's that.

I just uploaded my thesis. If anyone is interested in reading it let me know. It's only 16 pages, but it was supposed to be 20-25. I'm sure it'll be okay, right?

I also have to write two 5 page essays and a 10 page report in order to graduate, on top of a final I have to take next week. I can do this in 2 weeks? Someone tell me I can do this in two weeks... Please tell me I can do this in 2 weeks! PLEASE!

So just a little background: My son's dad and I are divorced, but decided that both parents are important and decided to co-parent. He's with me for a week, then he's with his dad for a week. I still pick him up from school everyday. I'm remarried now, and I made it clear to Sexy Husband from the moment we got together that my son does not need another dad and I do not need extra help raising him. If he wants to be his friend, that's fine, but he is not his parent.

Now, his dad is engaged. Good for him, he's been so lonely. I guess I thought that Ex Husband would have the same approach to adding a stepparent as I do, but maybe not. He's been having his fiancee pick my son up from my house after school instead of him. I decided it was okay because she was in town anyway, but felt weird about sending him off with someone who wasn't his parent.

But here's the new thing: His dad and the fiancee have decided it was easier for them to have her pick my son up from school everyday on his "Dad week" instead of me. The reasoning is because I live further away from the school now and because she's in town anyway and it's on her way home. She also said she WANTED to do it. Like, she wants to spend more time with MY son? I dunno.

I feel weird about it. On the one hand, it logistically makes sense. I have class Monday nights so I won't have to worry about getting him to his dad's on time. I have class Wednesday afternoon so I won't be rushing from class to try and pick him up on time. Fridays are my free days, but I guess I wouldn't have to worry about getting the baby fed in time to leave the house to get to his school. I still have Tuesdays and Thursdays with him since we both have karate that night. So it would really make things easier on me too, I guess.

But on the other hand, I'm his mama. I usually pick him up from school, and that's my job. I like picking him up. And I really think that he should be spending his time with Mom or Dad, and with Stepparents only if both Mom and Dad are unavailable. It IS his dad's week, and his responsibility that week to make sure he gets picked up, but then again, just because it's his dad's week doesn't mean I'm not a mom that week.

Thoughts? Opinions? Not sure if I should allow it or not. Am I making a big deal out of nothing?

So I didn't want to vaccinate my son, but didn't have much information about vaccines at that point. His dad DID want to vaccinate him, and we decided to just go ahead and do it. He's fine to this day. No neurological diseases or autism or anything! But now here we are with my new baby daughter and I'm faced with the same dilemma. I am not convinced that vax's lead to autism, but I'm not convinced they aren't. Her dad wants to do it, her doc called Dr. Sears a "quack", but I keep reading these vaccination horror stories.

I've already been directed to the links of information. Just as much good as bad. So what's REALLY the deal with them? Opinions anyone?

I had no milk with my son. Zero. Nothing. Nada. Trying to breastfeed was a disaster. He'd suck and suck and cry and cry. I thought it'd be different with my daughter.

Well, it's kind of different. I ended up having some milk this time, but it wasn't enough. Suck suck drain. Switch sides. Suck suck drain. Then came the "I'm still hungry" cries. She was losing weight, so we added some formula. I took fenugreek, ate oatmeal, drank mama's milk tea, pumped, pumped, nursed, nursed... still nothing more.

At the pediatrician's office three days ago, her doctor said "look, I would like 100% of all mothers to breastfeed. But in your case, you're depressed, you're a student writing a thesis, and I can get milk out of you. No doubt about that. But it's not worth jeopardizing your mental health. I certainly will support you if you keep trying, and I'll support you if you switch to formula."

So why do I feel like a terrible mother? I'm feeding my daughter. Formula's fine, she's gaining weight now, her color's good, she's very healthy. And my depression is lifting, slowly everyday. So why am I embarrassed in public when I pull out that bottle of formula? Are the breastfeeding police going to come and give me a ticket? WTF is wrong with me that I feel like that? Why do I care if some lactivist sees me with a bottle? Really? Why?

And I also feel a little rejected, you know? I loved nursing, but what I didn't love were the hunger cries after I was drained. But nursing, that was the one thing that I was physically needed for. Baby was hungry, mom fed her! I know she still needs me, but that physical part is gone. Anyone can hold a bottle, but it's mama that can nurse. But wait, no she can't...

It's like there's this amazing experience out there that I'm not allowed to experience. Like my body's not good enough.

I guess I could keep it up if I REALLY wanted to. I guess the choice comes down to breast feeding my daughter but having a mental breakdown, or formula feeding my daughter and keeping my sanity. Not to mention that thesis I'm trying to write. I do have to admit, it sure is nice to not bawl my eyes out after every single feeding. That's me crying 10+ times a day EVERYDAY.

*sigh*

This is today. Tomorrow, there will be sunshine. The next day, there will be roses. The day after that, there will be sunshine AND roses. PPD, it doesn't have to exist for me. And I don't have to feel bad, and no one can make me, and I don't have to make excuses.

And my daughter is so damned cute, I think I'm gonna go hold her!

Let's just call it what it is, people. My bf'ing problems are not nearly as bad as I think they are, I've come to realize. And remember my little mental breakdown this past summer when I got pregnant and lost my job, and couldn't get another job because who's going to hire a pregnant lady? I think I'm still reeling from that as well. It's really hard for me to admit when I need help, but I'm admitting it now. It is what it is. I'm going to a PPD group on Tuesday. I've never been to a support group before, but I just can't handle two mental breakdowns in one year.

And maybe this will also help me with my milk supply. Nothing else has worked. Maybe this is stress related. At any rate, I'm just giving myself permission to not worry about my boobs anymore. Baby's gettin' fed. Modern science can work for me, and I won't be jealous of it.

Oooh, and I just realized that last sentence may be the ultimate source of my depression. I'll update as it goes.

It's my first postpartum beer!

For those of you here and elsewhere in my life who swear that beer helped with their milk production, the experiment has begun. I'm drinking a beer. It's an ale. It's a little bitter, but it's good. I'm just having the one.

I'll let you know how it goes!

I have a supplementation question...

Apparently breastfeeding alone causes my little baby not to thrive, so we were instructed to supplement with formula. However, I worry that supplementing with formula will mess with the supply and demand factor on my milk production. I'm hesitant to talk to a lactation consultant just yet because I know about the bias many of them can hold against formula. But my girl's gotta eat!

Here's what we do:
She nurses about ten or more minutes on each side. We then offer her formula to see if she is still hungry (she usually is). She generally then takes in 1.5 to 2 oz of formula.

Isn't that like a whole meal? About 2 oz.? What does that say about my milk? I nurse her as often as she wants, which can be anywhere between 1-4 hours. I wake her up if it goes all the way to four hours.

I had no supply with my son. I know I have at least a little with this baby because I pump around 1/4 oz. total of both sides when I pump. Not much, but with my son I only pumped droplets. But is supplementing a good idea? I mean, it keeps her fed and that's the ultimate goal. Also after nursing on both sides for 10+ minutes, she's still hungry, and my boobs just can't take anymore!

I'll call an LC when I'm not so emotional. This breastfeeding thing is causing major frustration and crying fits from me every single feeding. It's very emotional. But I feel guilty for wanting to quit

Charlotte finally arrived at 3:03am, 9/30/09. She weighs in at a lofty 7lbs 7oz, and 19in long. She has hair!

I went into labor around 3:30pm yesterday when I picked my kid up from school. I remember him being annoyed that I picked him up, because he knows that if someone else picks him up it means I'm having a baby. I suppose that's all it took, because I had contractions a moment or two after he said that!

They started at 4-7 min. apart, then less than an hour later drew closer to 2-3 min. We headed straight to the hospital. I was in active labor for around eleven or so hours (OMG! That was a long freakin' time!). It's okay, I only had to push for 10 minutes and little Charlotte Sunshine popped out like a gumball!

All the worrying I did was for nothing. The only intervention was that they broke my water for me. It was a slow long labor with a fast and furious ending, and now she's been asleep since 5am! lol

Thanks to everyone for their support through this prodromal bullshit and birth fears. I had a totally natural VBAC experience that I'll remember forever!

I'm reposting this from the local KCAP site I post on, because I could use some advice on how to let go of birth trauma from my last. I have seemingly been in labor for close to two weeks now, and I just can't handle it anymore! One of the other members suggested that it could be because of deep-seated fears about labor. I posted this in response.

If anyone has any insight on how to let go of an almost 8 year old birth trauma, I would really appreciate it! Thanks!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I've kept in contact with my doula pretty intensely. I'm sure she's just as tired of waiting as I am!

My biggest fear, I would say, is having a repeat of my last birth experience. I was dead set on having a natural birth. But my contractions were never regular so the nurses at the doc's office kept saying "wait until they're regular, it's not real labor yet." I had the worst pain of my life and my then-husband and I decided to go to L & D anyway. By the time we got there, I was dilated to a 9! Stupid nurses.

I had as natural of a birth as I could, but I was uneducated. I had no drugs, but I pushed and pushed for two hours with absolutely no progress. Without even letting me know, the nurses gave me pitocin. It hurt! They thought it was funny. Then, without letting me know, they broke my water. It hurt. "What did you guys do?" I asked. "Oh, we just broke your water..." I continued to push, with NO progress, and finally had an emergency c-section because Marc's heart tones were so very low.

I feel confident that the c-section was necessary. However, what I'm still angry about was the pit given to me without my knowledge, breaking my water without my knowledge, and the fact that once Marc's heart tones started to fluctuate the nurse kept leaving us alone in the room to find the doctor without telling us what she was doing.

It was SO SCARY! I hated it. I'm so very afraid it's going to happen again.

That was a really long post, thank you if you made it all the way through! If it's this fear holding Charlotte in, how in the world do I let go of it? My doula keeps telling me to let it go, but it's quite obvious I haven't.

She also convinced me to buy the caulophyllum (the homeopathic blue cohosh) but I'm scared to take it. I wonder if I'm desperate enough? I don't know. The whole thing is really just starting to frustrate me. I wish someone could just predict for me when this baby's gonna come!

So last weekend we spent 13 hours in labor and delivery, with my cervix only dilated from a 1-2 to a 2 while we were there. How I see what happened looking back:

*I had regular contractions for a few hours and then decided it was time to go to the hospital. 3-5 minutes apart for two hours is a pretty sure sign, don't you think? We called the doc's office and they said "Yeah, I think you'd better go!" Our doula even agreed. All signs pointed to yes.

*Got to the hospital. I was dilated to a 1-2. Wigga-wha? Okay, whatever. The contractions sucked, so we hung out for a while and waited. We walked around. I sat on a ball. I curled up into a ball and sucked my thumb like a little baby. I showered. I bathed. I whined. I snuck some potato chips with the nurse wasn't looking. They checked my cervix. I was a 1-2.

*Pissed, I tried to take a nap. I actually slept through a few contractions, which was interesting. They came every 2-3 minutes or so. I ate some ice chips. I was so very thirsty!

*I wanted to mention that the nurses gave me a "yeah right" attitude when I told them I wanted a natural birth. Whatever. Maybe I'm a masochist and love pain, you don't know! They checked my cervix. 2. (That was after about 10 hours of terrible, horrible, painful contractions. I know!)

*MY actual doctor comes in and the first thing she says is "something we can do is give you pitocin or break your water to get things moving a bit faster." In the back of my mind I say "Yeah! Do that!" In reality I say "Let me give that a minute of thought and I'll get back to you..."

*When my doctor realizes that the dumbass nurses have given me NO fluid in the 13 hours I was there, she tells me she's not giving me pitocin, she's giving me fluid. Lo and behold, the contractions are magically whisked away on a fluffy cloud and I get to go home.

Dumbass nurses! Of COURSE I'm going to have horrible, painful, non-productive contractions when I haven't had any moisture in my system for 13 hours! Could the whole thing have been nipped in the bud by having fluid upon arrival? My doctor told me that next time I go into labor and delivery to ask for a bag a fluid, and I'm also going to ask for a nurse who is experienced with natural child birth because I'm not putting up with this "yeah right" bullshit.

And now I'm trying to be zen about it. I'm going to go into labor at some point. There is no way to plan when a baby comes. I still have to write a paper for tomorrow. I still have to make my pot of Happiness Potato Soup. I still have to finish playing Fable II on the xbox before Fable III comes out. Oh yeah, and we just got Beatles Rock Band! All in good time, but it's so very hard!

Sunflower, aren't you a doula? Who is it that's a doula on here? I'm interested in your take on the whole thing.