Learning to Breathe

I’ve never been good at breathing. It sounds weird, I know. I tend to breathe shallowly yet sparsely, so I sometimes get out of breath just sitting around. I really don’t know why I do this. It may be partially because at least one side of my nose always seems stuffed up; another factor may be that I am kind of high-strung and often feel like a hamster spinning in a wheel.

A few times in my life, I’ve tried to do yoga, but it has always been difficult for me—mainly because of the breathing. I could never get the hang of how you're supposed to inhale doing certain poses and exhale doing others. But now is the time to get serious about learning how to breathe. A lot of what we do in prenatal yoga focuses on breathing, and I’m also reading Marie Mongan’s HypnoBirthing, which describes and 3 different types of breathing used to induce a state of relaxation. HypnoBirthing is so focused on breathing that Mongan insists the need to “push” is a medical myth, and all you really need to do is “breathe” your baby out. I’m not sure how I feel about this, but I figure that just in case she’s right—it’s high time I learned how to breathe. Unfortunately, without the accompanying $300-$600 class (that isn’t even offered anywhere in my area), I’m not sure how much good the book HypnoBirthing is really going to do me.

To this end, I plan on having a doula. In the next couple weeks, I will be meeting with two local doulas to see which, if either, to hire. Maybe both a doula and a midwife is a bit of an overkill, but I’m willing to do anything to avoid the traditional hospital-birth experience that seems to end up in induction, pitocin, epidural, failure to progress, and c-section. My greatest fear in life is of invasive abdominal surgery. (It used to be spiders, but Nicaragua sort of took care of that). I am already displeased with the medical interventions I’ve accept so far. Mainly, the hyperemesis gravidarum and accompanying Zofran.

Speaking of which. I am now over 17 weeks pregnant, and still nauseated. Most of week 16 was fairly unpleasant, but then I had a couple of good days in a row, and I decided I am just going to be over this!. I mean, come on; it’s getting ridiculous. So I’m now more than halfway through Day 2 with no Zofran at all. And the results? Well, the side effects of Zofran have started to diminish a tiny bit, but last night I had to leave Frida’s party early because I was feeling so sick. I was able to sleep for a few hours last night, but then was kept awake by the unrelenting nausea. I came the closest to throwing up that I’ve been since initially going on Zofran, but I managed to keep it in. I almost broke down and took a Zofran this morning, but have made it this far, so I kind of just want to see what happens. It seems like I’m actually starting to feel a little bit better now, so I’m hoping the worst is behind me. Besides, it’s hard to say if this really has much to do with the Zofran anyway. I had a couple of nights like that last week when I was still taking it, so it’s definitely possible that this can happen even with the meds. We’ll see how this pans out.

Next week I have another prenatal appointment, and I will be having the Big Ultrasound—which they typically do sometime between the 16 to 20 week mark. Nowadays, most people find out the sex of their baby at this appointment. In fact, whenever I tell people that I’m pregnant, pretty much the first thing they ask (after when is the due date) is if it’s a boy or a girl. I hate to disappoint you all, but Rob and I have decided to keep the sex a surprise! So you’re just going to have to keep reading the blog until Fig’s birthday if you want to find out whether Fig is a he or a she!

Well, I’d better wind this up. It’s almost a little nice outside and Fig would like to go for a walk or run. Thanks for reading.