Evie’s Birth Story

Evie was born on Friday, September 29, at 4:55 am three days early. On Wednesday, September 27, we went out to dinner for our third wedding anniversary at an Italian restaurant called Centanni in Burbank. Jeff joked that I should wait to have her at least until the next day so we could keep our dates separate for our anniversary and her birthday. I obliged, although to be honest I was feeling crampy that night at dinner.

At 4 a.m. on Thursday, September 28, my water broke as I was sleeping in bed – a big gush. I woke Jeff up to tell him, my first thought being that we had recently taken off the waterproof cover we had on the bed to wash it (we kept it on the bed because of the animals, but that’s another story.) Jeff got up to get a towel, and I got up and changed my clothes. At this point I wasn’t having any other signs of labor, so we called our doctor’s emergency line. They called us back and told us to wait for the doctor to call us. Meanwhile, I took a shower, and we called our parents. My mom changed her flight to a sooner flight (she was supposed to come in on Friday night.)

We put some towels down on the bed and relaxed a bit, not really falling asleep again but just reading/relaxing. I had some food – waffles with peanut butter and some scones, and I think a piece of fruit? I remember Nikki telling me that once you get to the hospital they don’t really let you eat, so I wanted to eat as much as possible while I was still hungry. I remember thinking how annoying it was that my water had broken and I couldn’t really get up and walk around and be as active as I anticipated – this was not a scenario I had seen happening. Only 15% of women have their water break BEFORE they are in labor, so I really thought this wouldn’t happen – only in the movies!

Not a whole lot happened that morning; the doctor called around 8 a.m. and said to come in once our contractions became stronger. At this point, I wasn’t really having any consistent contractions. About that time, I asked Jeff to go get me some smoothies from Jamba Juice – one for now, one for later. I mostly stayed in bed, texting a bit with my doula, and reading. I drank a ton of water, too, to keep hydrated and for something to do. I took a nap around 11 for about an hour, and then just continued to rest/eat/drink. I also finished packing my hospital bag to make sure we had everything we needed. Jeff got up and cleaned the whole house, wide awake and very motivated all of the sudden. He packed the car to the extent he could and I am assuming organized someone to come look after the animals.

Around 3 p.m., I got up out of bed, bored from laying around all day and having nothing happen. I put a towel down and got out my yoga ball, rolling around in the living room and doing some yoga on my mat. Jeff and I played Rummikub, and while we were playing my contractions finally started in earnest, but still were inconsistent. At our birthing class, they mention that you should aim to head to the hospital when your contractions are 5-1-1. This means 5 minutes apart, and 1 minute long, for at least 1 hour. I was aiming for a 3-1-1, because I preferred to labor at home for as long as possible.

My mom’s plane landed around 5 p.m., and I was having contractions but they were still far apart. Around 6:30, they were about 5 minutes apart, but my mom was in a cab on the way to our house, and I was still talking through my contractions – a good sign that labor is not too far progressed – so I kept at it.

While my mom was in transit, Jeff and I calculated how many contractions I’d have to have at 3 minutes apart for an hour (20 contractions, because you include the time you’re contracting as part of the cycle; for example, you have a contraction for 1 minute, then you have 2 minutes off, before you have another contraction). Somehow it helped me to count up to that number. I was using my yoga ball to lean on and keeping track of my contractions with an app, and started to feel a little scared – this is it! I am going to have a baby! It’s happening! Ow, this hurts! – but then my mom arrived and we started to get in the car. I took my green ginger smoothie – the one for later – in the car with us and drank it on the way. Around 7:30 p.m., my mom arrived and we got ready to go to the hospital. At that point, they were about 2.5 minutes apart, and about a 1 minute long, and had been for at least 1 hour.

As soon as we got on the highway, my contractions began to slow, which is totally normal. They were only 20-30 seconds long, and I was still talking through them. It took us about 30 minutes to get to Cedars, where we checked in and were sent to a triage room. I got changed into a nightgown – I wanted to be able to wear my own clothes to labor, this was somehow important to me at the time, and I think ultimately a good call – and Dr. Brock came in as he was already at the hospital for another delivery. He did an exam and informed me that I was dilated…1 cm.

At this point it was probably 8:15 ish, so my water had broken 16 hours prior. There is conflicting advice in the medical community about water breaking and going to the hospital – some doctors want you to come in right away. But some, like Dr. Brock (and like me, based on what I have read) recommend you wait to come in. The worry is infection, but if you’re in your own home, you have already been exposed to those bacteria so you’re less likely to become infected there, rather than a hospital (full of sickies!) So although some of the nurses/doctors I saw in triage were confused that I had waited to so long, Dr. Brock got it.

At this point, I was almost discharged to go home and labor – gasp! – which would have been annoying. In fact, the only reason I had gone to the hospital in the first place was because Evie was breech, and since I was new at this I didn’t know how far along I was and I didn’t want to get into a dangerous situation where I was too far along at home. Ultimately, they decided not to discharge me because my water had broken so long ago, but they wanted to start pitocin. This is a drug they used to help move along your labor – getting your contractions going, so to speak. They were monitoring my contractions, and when I arrived I wasn’t even really feeling them (again, totally normal. Your body is “stressed” by moving to a hospital and needs to relax and feel safe again before it resumes doing its thing).

They also did an ultrasound which was hilarious because they were trying to make sure Evie was in the right position to deliver vaginally. She was, but it took three doctors looking to make sure because one of her legs was in a whacky position. I kept cracking jokes like “she only needs the one leg” and “I know it was there yesterday” and “I mean, it probably didn’t fall out, right?” but I somehow don’t think they appreciated it as much as I did.

So they moved us to a labor room, my doula Kim met up with us, and they got my IV hooked up, and started pitocin, which is a drug that accelerates your contractions, and helps make them stronger. They wanted me to be on pitocin since my water had broken so long ago but not a lot had happened in my body. They started me on the lowest dose, and my contractions started to GET.GOING. I was having contractions, and wanted to labor on the floor, on my yoga mat. This, however, didn’t quite work how I wanted to because my IV was in my hand, and every time I put my hands down my IV would get cut off and the machine would start beeping like crazy.

This went on for a while until Kim said maybe we could get them to move the IV. So they tried both of my arms and I had to lie down while they tried and of course they couldn’t get a line in. This was a pain in my ass, took way too long, and left me covered in bruises. At the time I wanted to just punch everyone because I was in a ton of pain and wanted to move around and not just be lying there. This exercise at least made it possible for me to take off my robe when they reattached the IV in the original spot. At some point in here, they upped the pitocin, and I was having really long and really strong contractions.

During this time, after a couple of 2-minute contractions, I honestly felt like, holy hell I cannot do this. I couldn’t speak, my contractions were so strong and so close together that I couldn’t get words out in between and I couldn’t tell anyone that I probably needed some drugs. In retrospect, it would have been nice to know how far along I was, but when your water breaks they minimize the cervical exams to reduce the risk of infection. Kim/Mom/Jeff were there but only in the distance; I felt like I was riding ocean waves alone. I was listening to the mix that Traci put together (which really kept me going through all of this) and trying to find a comfortable position but the IV was driving me nuts. Kim kept telling me to give into the contractions, not fight them, which was a big help because you really do feel like fighting and tightening instead of breathing through them and relaxing into them, and she kept giving me water/chapstick as needed.

Around 1 a.m., Kim asked me what I needed, and what the baby needed. At this point, I said, “The baby needs an epidural.” And so, the anesthesiologist was called, who was my Angel twice that night. They told me only one person could be in the room, so Mom and Kim left and Jeff stayed with me. Now they turned on ALL THE LIGHTS (I had had them dimmed) and raised the bed up a ton so they could put the epidural in. (Side note: an epidural is just a tube/catheter they put into the epidural space of your spine. They place it with a needle, but it stays in your back once they remove the needle so they can add more drugs if needed. It’s not actually as scary as it sounds in practice.)

The nurse kept asking if I was having contractions while looking at the monitor – which like, yes, lady obviously LOOK AT MY FACE – so when they did the epidural I kept reminding them I was having contractions because I was afraid the monitor wasn’t showing what was happening but also didn’t think I could stay still long enough for them to put it in. (Side note: they were obsessed with the monitors which was so annoying to me. I kept moving around and my fetal heart monitor would move and they’d come in to adjust it. I get that you’re trying to make sure the baby is OK but I cannot just lie here. Check every 20 minutes or something. This, by the way, is a method some hospitals use and one I probably will request next time o have intermittent monitoring.) I told the anesthesiologist/Angel that I wanted a walking epidural. He asked me what my pain level was. “I don’t know, I guess 8?” (It was not an 8, it was a 10. The pain scale is bullshit. It was the worst pain I’ve ever been in. Long rant about women’s pain and would be inserted here, but there’s not enough time in the day.) He said, “If I give you a walking epidural you will be at about a 6.”

A “walking epidural” is basically 20% of a full-strength one. I got what he was saying – if I actually wanted a break, and to rest (as it was 1 a.m. and I’d been up since about 4 the day before) I would need to get the full epidural. I was in so much pain and so tired at this point that I was like “OK just do it.” Jeff at this point made sure that I was sure (we had a “safe” word of sorts to make sure that I was good with what was happening to me) and we went through with it. The Angel told me that this was the last contraction I would feel, and then put in the line and the pain was taken away within 5 minutes. The Angel left and the lights were dimmed and Kim and Mom came back in, and everyone could finally rest. I talked to Kim for a bit about how I was feeling, and she reminded me to move from one side to the other (I could still feel my legs/move them) which could help from one side getting too numb and also help to keep the contractions going, even though I couldn’t feel them.

Now, at this point, before I got the epidural, someone theoretically should have checked me out to see how far along I was. But they did not. So, after a few hours of sleep from about 2 a.m. to about 4 a.m., Dr. Brock came in, doors wide open, looking at my chart, slamming drawers, wondering where the nurse was. He asked me how many centimeters I was when I got my epidural, but I was groggy and sleepy and just was like “What?” Kim told him no one measure me, so he got the nurse and then did a cervical exam. At which point he told me, “The good news is you’re fully dilated. The bad news is her feet are coming down, so we need to do a C-section.” Then he left the room for the nurses to prep me for the OR. They also prepped Jeff and Kim after I told them I wanted my doula in the room (initially they said only one person, but I pushed back.) They also gave me some antacid which I should have asked for sooner, because all through my contractions I had the WORST heartburn to add insult to injury, but this stuff worked INSTANTLY.

They got us ready to go in and brought me in first, where the Angel was waiting to give me whatever drugs I needed for the C-section. At this point, I was nervous, but tired, and ready for Evie to arrive. The team was getting everything ready, and I started to feel anxious as they put up the cover so I couldn’t see my stomach – it was a little too close to my face but they fixed it. Once they got me cleaned up they brought in Jeff and Kim. The whole thing seemed very fast. I remember someone asking me if I could feel something and being nervous (I have no idea if I can feel this, why don’t you give me some more, just in case?) and then smelling burning, but not feeling anything, not even pressure. At a couple of points, I felt very nauseated, but Angel took care of it and gave me something.

Evie was born at 4:55 a.m., and the first thing Jeff said was “Look at all of that hair!” Jeff was taking photos and video and even got some video of Evelyn being born, which he told me later the nurses were concerned with because he kept standing up to see and they didn’t want him to faint. I remember Dr. Brock mentioning that it was OK that she wasn’t crying yet, so that made me feel better. They delayed the cord clamping for about a minute, and then they got her over to the table to weigh/measure her.

She was 6 pounds, 9 ounces, and was 20 inches long. Then they brought her over to me for some skin-to-skin contact. I was very out of it and couldn’t really hold her on my own, but the nurse/Jeff helped me. Then they took her back and were working on sewing me up. Jeff cut the cord and was with Evie, and Kim stayed with me. I started shaking (normal and due to all the hormones) and Kim just talked to me and asked me how I was. I felt nauseated again, and almost threw up, but Angel put something in my epidural and I felt better immediately. Then they brought the baby back again and showed her to me, and I told them I didn’t want to hold her because I didn’t feel good. When they were done sewing me up, we went to the recovery room, where my mom met us! Evie was finally here!

I spent the next few hours in a haze, tired from the delivery. I couldn’t feel my legs, and had to wait in the recovery room until I could, for I’d guess an hour or two. Then they brought us to a regular recovery room. For the next couple of days, we got the hang of Ms Evie. We saw a lactation consultant, learned how to breastfeed a bit, and I recovered from my surgery. I got a catheter in for most of Friday and after having to pee every 20 minutes for almost 10 months, it was my very favorite thing. I couldn’t stop talking about how great it was! What an invention!

We didn’t get a ton of sleep, but we were happy Evie had arrived (although she didn’t get a name until late on September 29.) My dad got to town the night she was born and came and met her with Ana and Traci. I was pretty out of it for those couple of days, on some meds. Once they took the catheter out on Friday night, I was to walk around and tried to do some laps on Saturday. On Sunday morning we went home, after about two days in the hospital! The pain lasted a few weeks, with it hard for me to move around on my own, but by my two week check up I was feeling about 90 percent. In the end, I was fine with our C-section because I had the chance to labor and attempt to deliver Evie vaginally until her feet came down, creating a dangerous situation for her. Ironically, she was born on the same day my original OB wanted to schedule her c-section, just 12 hours earlier. She certainly came into the world on her own terms, and we’re so glad she’s here and healthy!

ride the wave

I did Day 2 of Adriene’s yoga two days ago, and multiple times she said to “ride the wave.” It reminded me of when I was in labor with Evie, and how hard I fought to have the chance to go through labor with that little muffin.

I have my birth story written up elsewhere, but I want to talk about how I came to even get to go into labor with Evie in the first place.

When I was 26 weeks pregnant with Evie, I was in a minor car accident. As a result, I had to go to the hospital because when you’re pregnant they always want to make sure the baby is OK. When I got there, the nurse casually mentioned that Evie was breech. And also completely fine. But of course, when I left the hospital I had something new to worry about.

My sister’s first baby was breech, so I had experience with the steps of having a breech baby. I didn’t worry about it too much because it was still early in my pregnancy – about 25% of babies are breech before 28 weeks, compared to 3-4% at full-term.

Cut to 34 weeks pregnant, when Evie was still breech. My doctor started talking about C-sections. I knew I wanted to avoid a C-section for many reasons. It’s a major surgery. IT’s better for the baby to pass through the vaginal canal for many reasons. So I started doing some research and talking to my sister. I found a chiropractor, did pre-natal massage (it should not be called massage, my god it hurts) and went to an acupuncturist. I did moxibustion. I did yoga. I got in the pool and did headstands.

(Thanks to Ellen for the photo!)

During my 35 week, I went to a chiropractor for the first time. My chiropractor/masseuse Dr. Berlin asked me a question no one had yet asked me when I went there the first time, “If you could, what kind of labor would you have, no holds barred?” I said home birth, preferably water birth. And he said, “Well if you’re going to give birth at Cedars and you’re potentially going to have a scheduled C-section, but it’s just because she’s breech, then here’s what I recommend.” And he told me there are doctors in LA that do vaginal breech deliveries. He told me about his podcast and that a 3-part series about breech babies. He told me something I already knew – that I should get a doula.

By this point, I had already been to a yoga workshop with Jeff about labor. And been going to a prenatal class with a teacher I really liked – who also happened to be a doula. And so we set up a meeting with her and hired her around my 37th week. She, along with Jeff, encouraged me to switch OBs. Switching OBs so late in my pregnancy seemed insane, but so did scheduling my C-section without doing everything that was humanly possible to have a vaginal birth.

At my 36th week, Evie was still breech, and my doctor wanted to schedule a C-section. I asked her if we could try an external cephalic version (EVC) or version for short. Basically this is when your doctor tries to rotate the baby in your stomach externally. I knew of this option because my sister had one. They have a success rate of 58%, and my doctor didn’t think that it would work, but I wanted to try. She didn’t even offer it as an option to me, which was frustrating – what if I had never heard of them?

So during my 37th week, we scheduled one. My sister’s worked. Mine did not. We went to the hospital and attempted one, but ultimately Evie didn’t want to turn for us.

So I called and made an appointment with Dr. Brock, one the LA doctors who does vaginal breech deliveries and also happens to work at Cedars where I was already supposed to deliver. He had been on vacation but I explained that Dr. Berlin had asked me to call and had referred me and they slotted me in the day I was 38 weeks.

I went to my OB during my 37th week, told her I was going to see Dr. Brock, and she said “Well I don’t think you’re a very good candidate for vaginal breech, but go see Dr. Brock.” Not rudely, but more like “I know more than you so good luck.” Which was frustrating, because why wouldn’t you at least want me to review all my options? I asked if she’d consider doing a vaginal breech (no) and if she’d at least let me go into labor before we schedule the C-section (also no.) Honestly, if she had said yes to the second one, I might have not switched doctors. I just wanted Evie to come when she was ready. But she wanted to schedule Evie to come before October 2. So she reserved an OR room for September 29 at 5 pm, and I made an appointment with Dr. Brock.

Jeff and I met him Dr. Brock on September 25, and explained the situation. He listened and said, “Let’s get a look at your baby.” After the ultrasound he told me “No problem – she’s in a good position for an attempt at a vaginal breech delivery.” I was to come back weekly until I went into labor. This was such a relief to me – finally someone who was with me. I asked how far along he’d let me go before he’d schedule a C-section in case Evie was late, and he said 41 weeks. Dr. Brock mentioned he couldn’t deliver Evie if I went into labor on her due date (October 2) as he was seeing Hamilton, but otherwise we were good. That made me laugh and realize I was in good company.

So, on the Monday I turned 38 weeks, I switched OBs. That Thursday, three days later, my water broke. And that Friday, four days later (and four days early/before Dr. Brock saw Hamilton) I had Evie via C-section. But, before she arrived, I got to labor. My water broke at 4:15 am on Thursday, September 28, and on Friday, September 29, at 4:00 am, Dr. Brock told me I was fully dilated, but that Evie’s feet were down, so we’d have to go in to have a C-section. Pretty hilarious that she came on the same day my other OB had wanted to schedule my C-section in the first place, but she’d come in on her own terms.

Before my C-section, I’d breathed through 9 hours of contractions without any drugs, until 1:00 am when Kim asked me what I thought the baby needed, and I replied “an epidural” (ha!). I’d ridden the wave of my contractions, breathing into them as Kim coached me through/Jeff & my Mom supported me. Using my breath to ride them rather than fighting the tide, if you will. I’d felt how strong the body can truly be. And, as I did Day 2 with Adriene, I smiled because I was reminded of just how strong the breath can be – how much it can get you through just about anything. Including all 30 Days of this yoga program. Including birthing your child – even if you end up in an OR. Including using yoga to rebuild all those muscles that were cut through to bring Evie into this world. And so, we move on, to Day 3, and Day 4, and on…

girl, my leg doesn’t lift that high.

I’ve started on another yoga journey for 2018. First of all, we’re doing Whole30 again, which I am quite looking forward to. Last year we did Whole30 in January but I went and got pregnant a few days in, so I didn’t necessarily feel that great afterwards – not bad, just not amazing. I’m looking forward to a clean start to the year as I aim to get my body to a new normal post-baby and post-caesarean.

We are on Day 2 of this Whole30, and Day 2 of Adriene’s 30 Days Yoga. I haven’t gotten to the yoga today yet (and Evie’s still napping almost 2 hours in so I fear her other naps will be short) but I am excited for it. Yesterday I got interrupted several times – Evie waking up, Luna going out, Luna coming in, Evie losing her bink, etc., but I still did it. I am letting control go and trying to realize that uninterrupted yoga is probably a thing of the past for a bit.

Realizing that is like realizing the truth about babies, which I was talking to someone about the other day. When you have a baby, the baby is in charge. Very different no matter what you think from a pet (which let’s be real, is what a baby feels like in the beginning, as they just eat, poop, sleep, repeat.) Evie’s in charge – she sleeps when she wants to, eats when she wants to, and asks to be changed when she needs to, plays when she feels like it, etc. Realizing that (and having the luxury to be home to let her lead the charge!) has made a huge difference in my life.

I am a very organized, planned, type-A person. I’ve read about sleep schedules and how often a baby should eat and nap and poop and how long she should play ad nauseam. But honestly, I am trying to shake the dust and let her lead me. I know at some point we will aim for a schedule and routine, because (as I’ve read) this is good for babies – they do great on a routine!) but right now, I’m letting her set the path.

Anyway, all of this is to say, my yoga journey might look different than it did a year or two ago, but I’m taking it in stride. Letting my losing control to a tiny monster be part of the path. Watching her giggle while I make faces at her in Warrior 2 is so worth it. So, although my leg doesn’t go as high as it used to, and I can’t hold plank for as long as I could before, I am moving. Moving my body. Moving forward. Growing, changing, breathing, becoming something I wasn’t before.

we don’t get to be here long

Blinked and it’s another year gone by. Today’s my 31st birthday and I can’t believe summer’s here, I’m 23 weeks pregnant, and that things shook out the way they did in November. This had already been a year of ups and downs, but now more than ever we’ve got something to fight for.

I’ve been thinking about what the legacy I want to leave (and start I suppose) for this baby girl (working title: baby Charlie) and I’m starting to make lists and lists in my head, because that’s what I do.

Be patient. Put the phone down. Balance the ugliness of the world with the beauty. But fight for people because the ugliness is still there. Sing loudly. Give lots of snuggles and hugs. Laugh every day. Read more. Create more. Worry less.

When I found out baby Charlie is a girl, I was so torn in my emotions. First of all, I’ve always been nervous about having a girl for the ridiculous reasons (I can French braid but that’s where the limits of my primping/preening go, but I did recently learn how to use a curling iron!) and for some real ones (being a woman is fucking hard, yo.)

But I am also beyond excited for her to get her so I can share all the awesome things about being a woman. And being a human. This birthday has me thinking a lot about my own mom, because as you grow a human you really realize this is more of a day for them, than you. I mean, for God’s sake, it’s the most anticipated day for weeks and months and then finally you birth a goddamned HUMAN BEING. What an act of love. I don’t even really know what it means yet and already I know it’s something big.

I am excited to have baby Charlie join this fierce tribe of Palluzzi/Hayford women. To have two strong grandmothers and an amazing aunt that will be SUCH A GOOD ROLE MODEL for this little one. Plus she’s already got a girl cousin to look after her, and of course a boy cousin to watch everyone’s back and stand up for feminism, too.

So as I celebrate this last birthday before I have a new milestone birthday to celebrate, I am scared, but elated, nervous, but excited, about all that’s to come. And I know I have to keep fighting for equality and justice for baby Charlie and for myself, for the women who have come before me, and the one inside me.

a fraction of your smile/or a fragment of your mind

Well, in case you weren’t in the loop, folks I am pregnant. Already it’s been quite the journey and I can’t believe it’s almost half over, because it feels like it just began. The first quarter of this year flew by because I was basically a zombie from early February through early April. In the past two weeks or so I’ve really started to feeling ALMOST 100 percent back to myself again.

Pregnancy is a bitch in the beginning, chickadees. I’m surprised by how I didn’t really know this but also by how many people online/in real life are like, “Oh yeah it kicks you in the crotch.” It’s shocking to be so tired all the time and so grossed out by food AND nauseated – turns out morning sickness has nothing to do with the morning. (On the plus side, I have finally learned how to spell nauseated on the first try.)

I definitely wasn’t ready for the way I felt. It was like having mono and the flu. I would come home from work exhausted and eat chicken tenders and french fries and crawl into bed at 8 pm. Weekends were for sleeping in and taking afternoon naps. I had to cancel trips, hangouts, exercise plans, book clubs…the list goes on. As I entered my second trimester I realized how lucky I was that the weddings I have are all in this time period. Now coming home from work and cooking seems tiring, but five weeks ago it was impossible.

It’s shocking to know this is normal, common, and expected. It’s shocking to know that you are not supposed to tell anyone you’re pregnant in the first trimester when you feel so, so shitty. When you are dragging your feet at work and peeing every 20 minutes and can barely remember how to answer emails. Your friends start to wonder what’s up (hopefully wondering if you’re pregnant and not if you hate them) and you can’t be excited or nervous about your future because all you can see is your bed at the end of the day.

This is all to say of course I am happy I am pregnant, but damnnnnnnn folks. Building human life is difficult! I wanted nothing to do with all foods. Cucumbers, chicken, fries, and cold fruit smoothies were my solace. I was quiet (Jeff probably appreciated that!) and the only exercise I got was my slow, slow walk with Luna in the mornings.

The good news is I’m in Week 17 – I’m on the other side of the first trimester and my appetite is back and I can exercise again. I stay up until 10:30! I go out on weekends! I cook! I am now finally excited about what’s to come. I’m starting to plan again. I have weddings to look forward to (baby’s already been to one, we start ’em early around here!) and am looking pregnant which boosts morale (except when I cannot get my clothes on. Oh well.)

Work knows, friends know, the Internet knows. I can talk about it. And, if you’ve been pregnant, I want to hear about it! How was your first trimester? Did it blow? Were you shocked? Did you have food aversions? Did you have to take a break before getting dressed in the morning? Did you cry when your husband/wife/partner offered you a grilled cheese because why on earth would someone eat such a horrible thing?

I have a lot of feelings about feminism as I slide into this pregnancy, and will probably share them here, but for now let me just say that if you have been pregnant you are a fucking warrior and deserve ice cream and snuggles and a raise.

Sorry/not sorry if this becomes a place I talk about pregnancy/babies for a bit.