I Am A Character In A Greek Myth

Taking care of a newborn calls to mind many a Greek or Roman mythology allusion. The number of rags and receiving blankets we tear through is obscene; the moment I put on clean sheets, and tunnel my way into clean, soft, bliss, they are christened with sprays of breast milk (my fault) or spit up (Little V’s fault). Sometimes, during a diaper change, Little V will pee and/or poo right as we are putting on the new diaper. On one particularly egregious occasion, I went through 4 diapers before I was able to finally take leave of the changing table. On another, after putting away 3 loads of laundry today, I realized another entire (almost full) load had accumulated in the meantime.

The time she spends feeding is not per se an unmanageable amount of time, but it seems that with the feeding, burping, feeding again, changing, burping again, then possibly changing again, a 40 minute process turns quickly into a two-hour ordeal. Or I finish the process, sit down for 10 minutes to start something, and it’s time to go again. I’m usually an extremely efficient person, and it’s difficult to suddenly realize 4 hours has passed, and not really be able to identify what I’ve accomplished, aside from feeding Little V. Today, I finished putting away 2 loads of laundry – by the way, I didn’t even do the laundry, my dad did – wrote a thank you note, cleaned the cat litter boxes, Googled symptoms of newborn constipation and acid reflux, and called an online boutique to bitch about the fact my order was placed 19 days ago and still has not been shipped. It’s now 1:45 p.m. Next up on the agenda include a call to lactation support, working out, and bath for baby. Let’s see how we fare.

This certainly harks back to the story of Sisyphus, who was doomed to roll a gigantic boulder up a hill, only to watch it roll back to the bottom, repeatedly, for all of eternity. My mother once told me cleaning up after us was a Sisyphean task, except she was referring to me as a teenager, not a newborn, so I guess this will continue for many years.

I also frequently describe leaving the house with a newborn (to do practically anything) as a Herculean task. Even a quick trip to the grocery store has required a concerted effort. We’ve had to learn how to make her comfortable in the car seat, time the outings when she is sleeping, and make sure there’s an exit plan in case she starts crying or gets hungry while we’re out. I like to think we’ve actually done quite well. We usually take no more than 15 minutes getting everything together on our way out, which I think is an accomplishment in and of itself. Yet, the planning and supplies that go with any outing do feel a bit daunting.

I’ve also always said that reproduction is an act of narcissism, in that people’s self-love drives them to replicate themselves. I do look at Little V sometimes and think she bears quite a bit of similarity to me as a baby. On the other hand, I saw a picture of her the other day and hoped she had not inherited my asymmetrical eyelids and that it was merely the angle of the photo.

We used to receive extra credit in Latin class for discussing daily references to Greek or Roman mythology, and I’m pretty sure this post would have pleased Ms. Altieri.

Yet, despite my complaints and ridiculous comparisons to mythology, I am incredibly grateful to be able to have a child in my particular circumstances, with the aid of a wonderful husband, parents, friends, advanced medicine, and Google.

Week 41!

Fetus is still in there, having a grand old time! She is 4 days past due now, and I’ve been having contractions for 3+ days. They are mild to moderate in nature, and not very painful, but enough to be uncomfortable and tiring. They started out spaced quite a bit apart, and progressed to every 30 minutes, then 20, then 10, and even 5, but varies and returns to a rate of every 30 minutes and/or 20 minutes with complete lack of predictability. I can sleep through most of them, but wake up to it 3-4 times a night.

I’ve been lounging a lot, but also doing some walking and yoga stretching. I did do 35 squats with a 20 pound weight after walking a short hill yesterday, but that turned out to be a big mistake because I felt grouchy and tired the rest of the day. Husband has been very patient and nice with massages when I wake up in the morning with a kinked spine and foot massages when we watch TV.

Also had my fair share of pineapple cakes. Bribing Fetus to come on out and join the human world of delicious treats. In fact, she’s been bribed this whole week, with Chinese home cooking, including tomato beef noodle soup, mapo tofu, zha jiang noodles, etc.

I had a doctor’s appointment today, and I’m currently 2 centimeters dilated and 80 percent thinned out, so I guess the last 3 days have not been in vain. The non-stress test results were fine, and the amniotic fluid still looks good, so my doctor did not think it’d be a problem to wait a little longer, though she wanted to have a game plan for potential induction if I went past 41 weeks. Potential induction would involve use of Cytotec, a synthetic prostaglandin. In the meantime, she offered to strip/sweep the membranes, which basically involves insertion of a finger into the opening of the cervix, and moving it around to separate the amniotic sac membranes from the cervix. This causes release of prostaglandins which may speed up labor. However, I did not recall what any of my classes and/or reading material had to say about this procedure, and I was undecided on it, so we held off.

After Husband went to work, I went home to consult some books along with Google. It seemed to me that membrane stripping was relatively benign, with minimal risks, compared with some of the horror stories one of my books seemed to suggest about Cytotec. I really hope to avoid being induced to begin with, and although I think some of the hippie set tend to overstate the risks of Cytotec, both Google and Expecting Better seemed to indicate there’s evidence membrane stripping is relatively safe and and up to 25 percent effective, so I called the doc’s office back to see when I could come in to get it done.

I went in basically as soon as I hung up the phone, and was seen within 5 minutes. The sweep itself lasted probably less than 20 seconds. She literally just poked her finger up in there and swished it around a little. The internet said it could be crampy and uncomfortable, but it was even less so than I imagined. It sort of felt like my bladder was being poked a little, but otherwise was entirely bearable. I felt like contractions began to speed up within the hour (after a pretty slow morning and early afternoon), but who knows if this is coincidence. Stay tuned.

Henna Part 1

I bought some supplies for decorating my belly with henna a few weeks ago and have not gotten around to using it yet. I thought the process would be easier than it is, but after Googling instructions for making henna tattoo paste, it appears a bit more involved than I thought it would be.

I bought Jamila henna powder off of Amazon and was careful to buy the powder appropriate for making a tattoo paste as opposed to for dying hair. The instructions on the box were extremely brief and only said to mix the powder with water, but instructions I found online seemed a bit more trustworthy. Husband thought I was a bit greedy hoarding a bag lemons off a tree – “Are we really going to be able to use all of those before they go bad?” – and normally he would be correct, but this henna recipe I found online required 1 1/2 cups of lemon juice so my greed came in very handy, as I polished off 4-5 lemons making my henna paste.


The instructions also said to add some tea tree oil and lavender oil, which I happened to have on hand. The fact I just happened to have these oils made me feel like a dirty hippie. We had bought lavender oil because we read it repels silverfish, which have a tendency to show up in our kitchen once in a while, and I had some tea tree oil for my face from Trader Joe’s. The end result was supposed to be the texture of mashed potatoes and looked like Saag, but is supposed to turn orange-brown if the dye releases correctly.