Originally Posted by FarmerCathy
No way I can have a home birth. I wish. No one would feel comfortable taking on a diabetic. Plus there aren't ANY midwives out here in the Northwoods of WI, at least in my part of the Northwoods. I'm just glad there are doulas. Their policy is a minimum of 24hours, but I can try.
You can more than try. It's not prison! We requested an early discharge with our first kiddo, and while they sounded obliging, there were all sorts of delays, "We need to wait for Dr X to explain your aftercare", "We need to do the hearing screening", bla, bla, bla. We wanted to get home, but it wasn't the most important thing on the face of the Earth to us at the time, so it took us awhile to get frustrated. Finally, we just said, "We're leaving now.", got up, and left. They magically produced the discharge papers at the desk as we walked past. Anyway, lesson being, they can *try* to delay you, but just put your foot down. "Please provide either our discharge papers our the forms to sign out AMA. We will be leaving in ten minutes, once we dress the baby (or whatever other task you can come up with that will give them a few minutes to actually produce the paperwork)". I mean, unless you live in an area where you are likely to have CPS breathing down your neck for taking your child home AMA, 'cause, let's be serious, who wants to deal with that, ever, but especially not when you have a newborn.
I take my kiddos swimming every Sunday, and two weeks ago, this is actually how I knew for sure I was pregnant. I get pretty severe SPD in pregnancy, and two weeks ago, I couldn't do a breaststroke kick because it hurt too much. This week, I felt totally fine doing it, so of course I'm freaking out. Thankfully, I felt pretty nauseated after getting out of the pool, but my goodness, it's so easy to worry, hey? I'm glad we can find out so early that we're pregnant (I was 10dpo), but I think it adds to the stress in some ways. You have SO much longer to go, and so much more time to be obsessive (psychotic?! I think I get a little psychotic. I try to keep it to the internal dialogue, 'cause my husband thinks I'm a nut job when I share my fears). Remember that sotry about Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes having an ultrasound machine in their home when she was pregnant? It's totally insane, and I can't help but think somewhat harmful, but another part of me completely understands and would love to be able to peek in and see that everything is ok on a very regular basis. Not that I would have any idea what I was looking for in a sesame seed sized fetus.
In other news, my spirited very-nearly four year old is possibly possessed by the devil. I joke. But not entirely. I do NOT understand what has happened. I've been pushing weaning more, but haven't cut her off, and I have a hard time imagining that that is the sole cause of this constant whining, screaming, temper tantruming, hitting, nastiness of late. A simple, "Remember to hang up your coat!" turns in to a full blown, raging, 30-60 minute event involving screaming at me that I am so unfair, that "You can't ask me that! Speak nicely!", hitting me, throwing herself on the floor, throwing boots at me, pushing her brother, etc, etc. I doesn't matter if I empathize, or ignore, or even if I lose it and yell back at her. The outcome is the same - fits until she arbitrarily decides she's finished or until I manage to distract her with something "big" enough. Bah. Hopefully this will settle before a new baby arrives, 'cause otherwise I think I will lose my mind. It's extra fun when her brother decides to copy her. He's usually pretty easygoing, but he's more and more picking up her exact mannerisms. I feel like the worst mother EVER when I realize I have to try really, really, really hard to like my own kid. Ideas?
Oh, it's so different to be pregnant for the 2nd/3rd/4th time than it was the first time around, hey? I was pretty anxious throughout that pregnancy, but I also remember it as sort of glowing, floating, magical time, where I spent time sitting and talking to my (tiny!) belly, washing and folding baby clothes and imagining a child in them, and just picturing the miracle I was a part of. Subsequent pregnancies have been a lot heavier on the daily life and a lot lighter on the magical connection. Oh, more mama guilt. How are you guys finding it?