Wedding Bells

Last Friday was Ondine’s first ever Wedding. There was some deliberation about what to do if she got fussy so as not to ruin her Godmother’s special day (Sean and Amy are now officially hitched!). Godmother #2 had offered to babysit since both Collin and I were set to be a part of the bridal party long before we even knew we were pregnant. The worry was that with the addition of the nasal pieces she might be more fussy than her normal chill baby state.

This kid lives to defy odds.

Comfortable in her baby Bjorn with “Aunties” Jill & Chelan in the back row (strategic location for a quick exit) the wedding begins. Mommy and daddy pass by and she is passed out cold in her pink party dress. Go team!

Of course to rapidly follow is the reception. I realize more everyday that a baby is like a hot potato that no one wants to let go of. Gimme-Gimme is the name of the game and after dinner once dancing started she was passed from one oohing woman to the next. Everyone wanted time with her. I came back from the bathroom to find her in the arms of a woman I never met- no Collin in sight. “Excuse me that’s my baby.” I said.

“Oh that’s alright, she matched our table.” said the grandma-type. “I’m ok. You go have fun.” Well alrighty.

It was how the entire night went. If they didn’t want time with the bride and groom, they wanted to check out their goddaughter. She got a dollar dance with the groom and with the bride (a little unfair because no one wanted to cut in on the infant) and danced with mom and dad a line dance. Our good pal Miles sang his epic “Milkshake” song and then it was time to get going.

Note to new moms: If you want your infant to sleep for a solid 5 hours and then most of the following day, take them to a wedding.

Jun

Open Letter to my Friends & Family...

My dearest family and friends.

I had my latest ultrasound today and baby is right on target, a little big but you’ve met Collin so you know that’s not surprising. They tell me she’s right on target and that she’s in the 84% for grown. Healthy and strong, and a wiggle-fritz as my mother likes to say.

I’m writing to ask for a little prayer. Some of you may already know that she is expected to have a cleft, but to what extent is still unclear. If it’s just a lip, it’s mostly cosmetic and she can have surgery at about 3 months and be done with it. If it’s a pallet, it means many more surgeries throughout her childhood to allow her to breathe and eat and speak properly. I would be eternally grateful if you did two things and both prayed for her healing while she’s still developing (God made the world in 7 days, in 9 weeks He can heal an unborn child). But the second is equally important to me. 

I ask that you take a little time and look at some images online of cleft lip children and infants, especially if you plan on attending me during labor or shortly after. It would brake my heart to see disappointment on any your faces and I want her to feel unconditional love from the moment she sets foot in this world. I want her to know that no matter what the challenges that face her, her family and friends will always love her.

This is hard for me to write because it’s so incredibly personal, and I’ve been down playing it. The truth is that this is a very very common thing in American births, 1 in 700 to be exact and it’s also incredibly treatable. It is typically hardest on the parents and family, and not the baby. She likely wont even know there’s anything wrong at all, just that we love her. So I ask you to pray for her, pray for us and prepare yourselves in case this is indeed a challenge that God wants us to face head on.

Love always,

Erin

Perfect Children Pt. 2

October was kind of an exciting month. We had made official announcements that we were having a baby, the first for my side and the second for my husbands if we don’t count cousins (which there are a lot of them).  October 17^th was our routine exam that was to be proceeded by a standard 21 point ultrasound.  Everything was going swimmingly. Baby kicked, baby stretched, baby let us watch them fold in half and do a hand stand.  In general, baby was healthy as a horse.

But not quite. We had just been told that baby might have a cleft. We had a million questions and dark cloud had settled over our heads. We went to our follow up with doctor that very same day. 

Now, there are a list of tests that are “optional” for expecting parents designed to allow you a leg up on preparation. Some people want the whole shebang, every test available. Others would rather leave it up to God or fate or whatever they believe in, and only do medically necessary testing. For myself, I’m somewhere in between. I’d truthfully never thought about it because like many women my age, babies make us smile but we’d never considered all the things required of us to make one.

So, while the doctor had mentioned them in passing at our initial consult and handed us a stack of information packets that I sort of glanced at, we now were being pressured into tests that we had really been uninterested in before. The thing that was confusing us was that they would reassure us that there was literally nothing we could have done differently to change the outcome of a cleft. There was no history of it in either of our families.  I wasn’t drinking or smoking and we were both relatively healthy individuals. Nothing was abnormal for the first 5 weeks of pregnancy so the chances of anything environmental that had caused this we small. In fact they really don’t know what exactly causes clefts aside from lifestyle and medical history. This time, it was just chance.

Despite all that, the abject warnings about potential chromosomal abnormalities suddenly skyrocketed. Words like “down’s syndrome” and “sickle cell anemia” were tossed around like a hot potato.  Amniocentesis was optioned and pushed for as a way to determine if the baby would have any of this. These heartbreaking concepts are pushed because “we want to make sure that you have the best medical care available.” The problem with this is that these tests are very expensive and can be very inaccurate. Even under ideal circumstances they’ve had test come back clean as a whistle only to have babies born with very serious issues. So it’s a crap shoot and you’re out the money either way.

Then the real question was… well it was eluded to, without being stated. Do you want to keep this baby or not? Because that’s what it boils down to at the end of the day. If the test is negative would you keep this child?

I have always fancied myself a pro-choice individual. I’ve always consider it my body my choice, and I still do. But suddenly I faced a very real question for my own heart and soul. My husband and I are responsible adults on most days. We chose to have sex, we chose to not use any contraception. And despite all the environmental reasons in the world to have not conceived when we did… we did. Was that also chance? Would I, could I free us of a burden simply because the baby might not be “perfect” in the eyes of the world? I’d never been faced with such a question before. And it disgusted me that it was a question I had been forced to ask myself.

The more times the amniocentesis was pushed, the more I felt like that was what modern science was saying to me. If you take this test, you can get rid of it, if you don’t your stuck.

I fucking hated that thought.

I hate that it made me hate pregnancy and question every fiber of my soul because I suddenly didn’t know who I was any more. Who was this doctor to suggest that imperfection was not beautiful?

By the time we left my husband and I felt lost. But I had made up my mind. No test, in all the world, would change my mind. This child was mine, my blessing and my responsibility. So fuck your test and let me have my baby in peace.

I promptly found a new doctor.

The moral of this story is not yet over, as it is not yet written. But what I do know is that all children are beautiful in the eyes of their creator. I understand some of you may not believe that, but they are. This child, my child, will not only live, but will be as sassy as mommy, as strong as daddy and look at this world in absolute wonder. 

Prefect Children Pt. 1

This may come as a shock to some but I’m a Christian. I know, mind blowing isn’t it? I can still be in shows like HAIR and work on a horror film folks. Still the same me, just with a little faith in something greater than myself.  I am a liberal leaning Christian and my husband tends towards a more conservative Christian. So sometimes we don’t always agree on the fundamentals. We’ve had those fabulously heated arguments about the basics but because we love one another and can’t imagine a world where the other isn’t part of it, we always come to terms with our disagreement and try to see it from both sides, with mostly success.

Then along comes baby. And everything you thought you believed with every fiber of your soul is challenged. For starters, there’s a lot of things you don’t know and a lot of answers you’re expected to give without ever having known there was a question to begin with. It can be as confusing as it is overwhelming.

I feel a bit like they were making up for the first 3 months I was on set of my husbands first feature and there were all kinds of tests. Blood tests, urine tests, ultrasounds, more blood tests and on occasion a written exam… I’m kidding. Or am I?

These are a monthly part of the ritual now. Once a month you check in to make sure mama and baby are developing on target, because despite our differences there are some consistencies about every pregnancy that must be met. So October 17th I went back in for my monthly check up (I swear I’ve spent more time at the doctor in 4 months than in 6

years) preceded by a 21 point ultrasound, whatever that means.

It was the first time I really felt pregnant. This wasn’t just a little floating blob that may or may not be a fetus, but a living breathing (metaphorically) being inside of me. While the movement I felt left me feeling more gassy than anything at 18 weeks, I could really see baby for the first time. How baby loved to fully stretch out their legs from one side to the other.

Baby was sassy as could be, mouthing at us and not letting us get a clear shot of their face but distinctive poses to see a very healthy spine, legs, arms, fingers and toes. Not to mention a very strong heart.

We had already decided we wanted to know the sex of the baby, but we also wanted to make that a special moment at a reveal party, my mother-in-law’s suggestion that I loved.

So they put the information in a pretty little envelope, sealed, and then went to get the doctor.

Now this isn’t our normal doctor, it’s the doctor assigned to the unit for radiology and ultrasounds. Never met him before, he’ll never see us again. He doesn’t do more than introduce himself blithely and dive right in.

“Well your baby is healthy, but looks like they will have a bilateral cleft lip.”

Do you know what it’s like when blood freezes? It’s painful. You can’t breathe. Your whole body aches and ever muscle in your body tenses as if you’re lifting Atlas’ burden.

“Excuse me, what do you mean?” The doctor proceeds to explain that there is bulbous tissue around her mouth that is typically indicative of a cleft lip and or pallet. That it’s too early to know anything for sure but that the amount of tissue around her lips makes him suspect a bilateral cleft lip.

He asks a few personal questions about health habits of me. Do you smoke? No. Do you drink? Not since I found out. Is there a history of cleft or other birth defects in your family? No.

Well, then it’s just bad luck.

“Excuse me? Bad luck? My baby is not bad luck, you egotistical asshole! My baby is a blessing. You are the only bad luck that’s entered my life and your bedside manner is shit!” Never mind that this was inside my head and not what I voiced. I was trying too hard not to cry. I looked at my husband and he was in exactly the same place I was- ready to strangle the doctor, fighting tears.

We took our pretty little envelope with our card that revealed if baby was a boy or girl with us and somberly got back in the car. We hardly spoke.

Clefts, we had been told, were incredibly treatable and incredibly common. They are much more common among boys. That 1 in 700 children born will have it. But neither of us knew enough about them to have the slightest idea about what to do next.

So here we are, at a dark place. And the challenges to our faith and trust in God and each other were just barely about to begin.

To be Continued....

OMG.... Am I Really?

The multitude of things expecting mothers are never told confounds the brain. It could just be that the experience for each pregnancy is distinctly different (true to a certain extent). You would think that after the centuries of having babies someone would have mentioned a heads up to her expecting sisters.

Don’t get me wrong, my mother and my mother in-law have been quick to offer advice when solicited. But in general, some of their solutions aren’t forthcoming unless I produce a new issue. Therefore, I’ve determined that I should describe my little nuanced pregnancy in hopes that future moms-in-waiting can glean some helpful tidbits.

To start with, I discovered I was pregnant while on set for my husbands first feature narrative “The Anniversary.”  It was a pleasant little shocker because while we had been sort of trying we weren’t putting much effort into it… Well I should say we weren’t putting any conscience effort into getting pregnant. We were putting lots of physical effort into it. Lots and lots of effort. So when my husband began to suspect I was pregnant, I scoffed it off. “I’m not pregnant, Pshaw!”

About a week into filming, I’d noticed that I was gaining weight without really changing much in way of my diet or exercise. I hadn’t dipped into the liberal amounts of liquor at our cabin- though because I was convinced I wasn’t pregnant I did top off each night with a margarita- nor was I consuming an excess amounts of fats of sweets. My diet was relative to what I always eat. Lots of greens, a source of protein and a hearty morning espresso. Nothing out of the norm. I’d simply put on weight. And my boobs hurt like I’d been punched in them, as well as starting to swell to a size that was threatening to spill out of my perfectly fitted of a bra.

When I started feeling nauseous in the morning, my husband would follow it up with an immediate “You’re preggers” comment which would lead to my flat denial. I couldn’t be pregnant. He had a movie to make, dammit, and I was still recovering from a surgery. Then we decided to treat the crew to a fabulously delicious burger from Cascade Burgers in the heart of Concrete, WA where we were filming. They were the kind of burgers that you salivate for at summer barbeques, coupled with to order specialty milkshakes and a quaint dinner that wouldn’t have been out of place in Pleasantville. They even had options for my vegan and vegetarian! In short, these burgers were damn near perfect, rivaling the specialty of In ‘n Out Burger (which didn’t not agree with my tweet.)

I ate ½ of my burger and promptly returned it.

What. The. F%#k?

Clearly my tummy was upset. But it wasn’t a big deal.  Maybe it was too much grease or something. I’ve always had a sensitive tummy for things other than spice. No. First thing the next morning again, barely a bite of apple and I’d returned it. Since I was in charge of cooking to help save a few pennies on this endeavor you can be sure there were a few raised eyebrows that the cook was running to the bathroom to toss her cookies.

After much deliberation and a Sunday supply run on our day off, we decided to pick up the little pink box and take a test. Turned out we had some news to share. Our cast and crew were the first to learn about it – no it’s not contagious – just in case they were wondering. But then of course there are a thousand questions and not a lot of people around that can answer them. Thank God for the internet.

BabyCenter.com became my new best friend. There was lots of helpful information because I had lots of questions like why wont my nose stop running? And what can’t I eat? This list of “don’t” however is double the size of “do” which I found super discouraging. We still hadn’t told our parents yet because we wanted it to be all of them at the same time… so I can’t ask my mom what to do. Thus my first taste of “figure it out on your own.”

In those first weeks, there’s a lot of that. Everyone seems to have an idea about it but not a lot of those people even have kids. They have friends with kids, sisters with kids, their mom told them once.  Or they’re a dude. Don’t get me wrong, my husband is an EXCELLENT listener that would do anything for me, but he’s still got a penis.  No matter how much he may tell me he’d carry the baby for me if he could… lets just remind ourselves there is a little agreement between God and Nature that says that’s just not happening. Ever.

So here are a few tips for your 1^st Trimester

#1 )  Listen to Your Body First, Advisors Second.

Every woman will have similar symptoms, but every woman is different. My step-sister had morning sickness from day one until term. I on the other hand had it for about 3 weeks and figured out how to control it most of the time. I listened and my body said no beef, no pesto, and no bran muffins. Baby and body will tell you rather quickly when you’ve had something you shouldn’t, usually with a not so elegant return to sender demand. It will also cue you in when it’s time to rest. I had overwhelming urges to sleep mid day and if I didn’t I became very weak. Nothing would cure it unless I slept. Your body will tell you what it needs.

#2 )  I’m Pregnant, and That’s Beautiful

Say it with me: “I am pregnant, I am not getting fat.” This was and is one of the hardest things for me to deal with. I’m an actress for goodness sake! We take the whole woman-insecurity about body image to a whole new level. In addition, I didn’t look pregnant. I just looked like I was filling out. You want to tell everyone just in case they were about to accuse you of double dipping your Doritos’s in a cheese sauce that no really, you’re pregnant, and not fat. But make sure you tell yourself that same thing as often as possible. This is your body preparing for the next 9 months so accept that you are beautiful and will be glowing soon enough if you’re not already.

#3 You are NOT  Eating for Two.

This common misconception goes along with #2, because there are some women who embrace this then who throw all restraint to the wind. The unfortunate side effect of that is they gain more weight than they could possibly hope to reverse with one small baby being born. Doctors tend to recommend no more than 400 additional calories a day to your NORMAL eating habits. That’s a piece of whole wheat toast and some peanut butter! So while you’re not getting fat and you absolutely should not be on a diet, make sure that what you are eating is proportionate to your normal meals, and if you’re not already make sure that they are nutrient rich so that you and baby can be as healthy as possible. It’s great to remember this when you’re at work and every secretary in the building wants to bake you cookies. Politely thank them and put them in the break room. You’re not eating for two, you’re eating for you and a little bit extra.

After that, you’ll figure it out. There are a thousand other mommy blogs with advice and a thousand more “authorities” who will offer you the “must haves” and the “yes/no” lists. But if you remember these three basics, the rest will start to fall in line.