Dogs Steal Yarn

The view from the birth ball

Thumper and I have been named to the No Back Labor Task Force. Our primary responsibilities fall to me and involve keeping my weight forward, sitting with my knees lower than my hips, and keeping tabs on his positioning within the Ginormous Belly O' Doom. (Yes, the belly now looks like the Death Star. I've got some photos taken at unflattering angles to prove it, but I'm not in such a sharing mood.)

To this end, I spend a hell of a lot of time either in hands-and-knees position or sitting on a birth ball. Before I got pregnant, I thought these things were called physio balls. I used them for trivial activities like exercising and stretching. Silly me. It's a birth ball. I feel a bit like I'm nesting on a giant green egg when I sit on it, but it's more comfortable than the straightback chairs in the house and it keeps me in a good position.

Thumper has been in a great position all along. The goal is now to keep him there. (His primary responsibility is to stay put with his head down and his tush toward my belly button.) Because he's been very cooperative with the positioning, and because I'm good at identifying what baby parts are where, my doula has given me her blessing to sit back on the couch with my feet up for a while each evening. But that's not the majority of the time. Most of my time, this is what the world looks like from where I sit:

Belly, lace knitting, knees. The birth ball is there, but you can't see it due to the total belly eclipse. And on the floor, keeping the ball of laceweight merino neat, the lovely basket bag Alison made me quite some time ago. It's turned out to be the perfect project bag for a project that uses threadlike yarn that must be protected from the cat at all times. It's the Kimono Shawl from Folk Shawls, by the way. I'm using the handpainted laceweight Merino purchased two Rhinebecks ago. This yarn used to be the beginning of a Madli Shawl. Then I came to terms with the fact that I don't like knitting nupps, probably never will like knitting nupps, and in fact don't especially care for the look of nupps. Madli was frogged. Kimono was cast on. Much better.

Thumper's due to make his appearance on June 17th. We're really in the homestretch now. I can't wait to meet him.

What the well-socked foot is wearing

A gift of baby booties from Carolyn

And yet another pair of socks that I knit for myself when I probably should have been knitting for the baby.
Pattern: Child's First Sock from Knitting Vintage Socks
Yarn: Lorna's Laces Cranberry

Coming this fall to a record store near you: Me

Yesterday Billy and I were wandering around Park Slope, having just given in to the fetal demand for ice cream and waiting until we were hungry enough to give in to the fetal demand for a burrito when my phone rang. It was my friend Tad, genius lead guitarist for The Hold Steady, and the conversation went something sort of like this:

Tad: Hey, do you want to be on our record?
Me: Um...yes. Yes, I do.

One of the songs on the new album has a shouting chorus. An all-girl shouting chorus. I'm one of those girls, five of us total. We recorded it today. I can't tell you what we shouted--you'll have to wait for the album for that. It was fun, though. Lots of fun. When Thumper is old enough I'll play the song for him and tell him that not only is that his mom on the record, but that he was there, too.

Mmmm....massage....

The LMT left a little while ago and I'm all aglow. Feeling extremely relaxed and extremely fortunate. Sure, I complain about the fatigue and the rubber-band joints and the weight of the belly and all that, and those discomforts are very real...but they're normal and pretty much unavoidable in the third trimester. Truth be told, I've had a very healthy and relatively easy pregnancy. (Knock on wood.) And I don't think it's just luck, though luck has certainly played a part.

Remember back in the early days of the pregnancy when I tweaked my back? Being married to a physical therapist, there wasn't much question about what I would do next. My OB wrote me a script for physical therapy, and I went to see a colleague of Billy's who routinely treats pregnant women. She worked on my SI, but also gave me exercises and techniques to help keep me strong and stable as the pregnancy progressed. Guess what? No back pain since then. Sure, the sacrum has felt a little off from time to time as everything loosens up and shifts, but no pain.

The prenatal yoga classes also played a big part in keeping me fairly pain-free and (relatively) agile, I'm sure. I'm really not feeling up to an hour and a half of pretty vigorous yoga anymore, but I'm still making myself walk as much as possible. My yoga teacher's approach is that she's training women for a marathon, that pregnant women are not delicate flowers. Delicate flowers should feel free to find a gentle class elsewhere. I agree, and the class was great. But it's now beyond my stamina, so I'm sticking to light yoga on my own at home now.

And now, today, an hour and a half of some wonderful massage by an LMT who does lots of prenatal massage work. And she'll be back next week.

I'm spoiled. Or perhaps fortunate is the correct word.

Which is my point, I guess. Throughout the pregnancy I've had access to excellent prenatal care and vitamins and good food and clean water and all those important basic things that many pregnant women don't have and should have. But I've had even more than that. Insurance that covered those preventative PT sessions, access to an amazing PT (besides the excellent PT I'm married to), really good yoga classes and the means to take them, massage... It seems that the physical therapy at the very least should be a right available to all pregnant women. I think pregnancy--particularly in the third trimester--could be easier for many women if PT were part of standard care in the first and early second trimester. It's a real shame that it's not.

(By the way...not looking to open a whole can of worms here, so I'll just say that we're a physical therapy family. Not a chiropractic family. I've got certain opinions re: chiropractic that I won't get into here, but suffice to say that when I say PT should be part of standard care, I specifically mean PT. Not chiropractic.)

It's good to be reminded of how fortunate I am, rather than where I was at this morning before the LMT arrived. I was grumbly and feeling sorry for myself that we can only afford for me to wait six weeks after Thumper's arrival before I have to start taking freelance jobs again. Really, I should be grateful that we can go without my income for six weeks, and that I have skills that will allow me to work from home and so stay with Thumper even when I'm working.

Though of course it would be a hell of a lot easier financially if the book would sell. But that's another can of worms entirely.

As of five p.m. today...

...I will be done with work. Done with inhouse work permanently (that's the plan, anyway) and done with freelance work (to be done from home) until six weeks after Thumper's arrival (except for one little bit of a job still to be finished. Waiting on the files, which had better come soon).

Tomorrow I have nothing to do but get a nice prenatal massage.

(And work on book revisions, and pack the hospital bag, and assemble the nursery closet organizer thingies, and organize the nursery, and wash enough of the smallest-size clothes to get Thumper started...but let's not talk about that. I'm basking in the glow of the false sense of having nothing to do.)

Let the nesting begin.

PS: Thumper received adorable booties from Carolyn, a photo of which will be posted soon. Probably tomorrow. Add that to the to-do list.

A Public Service Announcement for the Partners of Knitters

If your knitter should set about knitting you a pair of socks, and you know as soon as the socks are cast on that you do not like the colorway, do not--I repeat, DO NOT-- wait until the first sock is finished and off the needles to admit that the colorway really isn't your cup of tea. And certainly don't say, "Well, I'll wear the socks and they'll probably grow on me." In particular, do not do this if your knitter engaged in the extreme tedium of ribbed socks, just because your knitter knew the ribbing would please you after all the stockinette socks she or he has already made you. (I know you don't know what stockinette means. Don't worry. Let's just move on.) Much knitting time has already gone into your tiresome ribbed socks at this point, and completing the pair, which you will maybe wear as a favor to your knitter, just isn't worth it. Your knitter could have been knitting socks for her- or himself in that time, you see.

So, for the love of yarn, SPEAK UP if you don't like the colorway, or the yarn, or the pattern. At the very least, speak up while the foot is still being worked, so your knitter can finish the socks to their own size, rather than waste another second knitting it to fit your beloved feet. And if you fail to speak up before that first sock is finished, don't look askance if you should find your knitter sitting in a corner and cursing you as the toe graft is undone and the sock ripped back to a length that will fit your knitter's own foot. Just bring them a cup of tea and then quietly back away. And if any stitches get dropped in the process, leave the room immediately.

Things that are true today

1. It's hard to walk with someone's head resting atop your pubic bone.
2. It's hard to sit in an office chair with someone's head resting atop your pubic bone, especially when their feet are still kicking you in the ribs.
3. It's hard to focus on your work when someone is piking their cute fetus tush up to be patted and rubbed. (This makes for a misshapen bulge in the belly, great for scaring your more squeamish coworkers.)
4. Pizza with eggplant and fresh mozzarella? Delicious. (Yes, technically an off-limits cheese, but one can only give up so many good things.)
5. The belly makes a perfect shelf for resting your book on, should you care to read on the subway.
6. Sleep? I used to do that. I miss it. Oh, don't get me wrong--I still get into bed at night. Now, though, instead of sleeping, I just lie there uncomfortably and wait for it to be time to get up to pee again.
7. Four more work days after today. I hope I make it through the last day without assaulting anyone with a stapler.
8. I have a big-deal-big-time agent. Luckily, she also happens to be incredibly dedicated and supportive and notorious within the industry for her loyalty to we lucky few, her clients. Unluckily, even this greatest of all agents doesn't possess a magic wand to conjure up the ideal publishing contract. Nor can she stiffen the spines and resolves of editors who "love a book but are afraid it's too dark and so would be a tough sell" or who "love a book but don't know how to place it in the marketplace." I've worked in this industry for 11 years. I already knew going into it that publishers aren't generally risk-takers in terms of the manuscripts they buy. Still, for some reason I kind of hoped I could be one of those exceptions.
9. I am not one of those exceptions. Ladies and gentlemen, we are headed back into the land of revisions. Hold on tight. Don't walk up behind me unannounced, as I've been known to strike out with sharp red pencil first and ask questions later.
10. The fact that this is a normal part of the shopping-manuscript-around process for many writers (including some I know and greatly admire and who did go on to publish the "tough sell" to great reviews) does not make this easier. You always want to be the lucky one, you see.
11. I am lucky, come to think of it. I've still got the greatest agent in all the land rooting in my corner.
12. Head? Resting atop pubic bone? Still not comfortable.
13. My joints are all strung together by rubber bands.
14. Excuse me. Gotta pee.

A well-showered family

There's been a whole lot of baby showering going on. The weekend before last my (adorable and fantastic and loving and supportive) mom threw us a family shower, and this past weekend my (beloved and amazing and wonderful) friend Christina threw us a friends shower with the assistance of my (also beloved amazing and wonderful) friend Alicia.

Here's a family photo from this weekend's friends shower. There were baby chickens on the cakes! Two cakes because who wants to choose between chocolate and vanilla? (There were also plenty of knitters there, but unfortunately no good photos. You already know how cute New York knitters and knitbloggers are, though, right? Just picture them being there, knitting and being their usual cute selves.)

And the showering hasn't stopped there. The (generous, creative, gifted, awe-inspiring, all around best-blog-buddy) Alison has organized a cyber shower for us.

Three showers. We're the luckiest, most spoiled family in all the land. We're grateful and humbled by everyone's generosity. I won't show pictures of all the gifts we've received from these three showers because...well, that would be excessive and kind of weird. But I will share pictures of the handmade gifts we've been given. How could I not show you those?

All three handmade gifts that have arrived for Thumper come via the cyber shower.

First, from Claudia, the greatest hedgehog arrived. He's a hedgehog! And he's orange!!!

Yesterday we received a very generous bag o'gifts from Norma that included these adorable Croc Socks:

And then today...the most fabulous box arrived from Alison herself. Inside:

This fantastic suit set:

And this gorgeous sweater:

I'm blown away...

Oh look...I knit a pair of socks

Pattern: Cascading Leaves by Jean Townsend
Yarn: Socks that Rock Carnelite (a kind gift from Em)
Needles: 2mm Crystal Palace bamboo dpns
Model: Oscar "Thanks for the 2mm bamboo toothpicks" Madison