Monday, December 22, 2008

this end up

Baby update

A few weeks back we discovered that Ducky was hanging out in breech position. This was at 30 weeks. Our midwife suggested inversion poses to encourage her to flip. Actually, she said "if you want to start doing any handstands, now would be a great time." So I (d) experimented with a few inversions and settled on the most comfortable and easiest - laying on an ironing board propped on the sofa. It put me at a bit under a 45 degree angle, head down. 15 minutes at least 3 times a day.

We returned to the midwives this past week and discovered the inversions did not work and Ducky was still hanging out breech. The midwife said it was time to get serious and recommended Moxibustion, a service provided by an acupuncturist. Luckily G & I had met a midwife/doula/acupuncturist recently at a birthing prep course. Elizabeth came to our place this past weekend - a house call! When she got here she first showed G how to check out Ducky himself and determine which way is up... and guess what? Up was down. Yes, she had flipped. So instead of performing acupuncture to encourage the duckling to move, Elizabeth went straight to the Moxa (mugwort herb incense cigar thing). Basically, the moxa is held right by the little toe of each foot for about 15 min - total of 30 min (if you have two feet, which I do) for 10 days in a row, this helps to encourage the baby to move. Or, as Elizabeth mentioned, just spending 30 minutes or so focusing on the baby and expressing your desire for the flip helps the baby move.

We go back to the midwives on Dec 30 and will find out if she's breech or not. I hope she stays head down. We will continue the moxa treatments for the next 9 days. Here's G perfoming the moxa on me:

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Mr. Bubbles the Shadow

Last week we offered to foster a kitten. Kitten-sit. He was rescued from a tree with 2 other kittens and was in a holding pattern waiting to be neutered and vaccinated before being officially available for adoption.

We understood the risk we were taking. Sure, we were just going to kitten-sit.

G. works with the gal who rescued the kitties. She didn't really force Mr. Bubbles on us, just like your friends don't really force you to have that last drink. So anyway, he arrived about a week ago and scared the daylights out of Captain Henry. Mr. Bubbles slept in the bed with us the first night, and has ever since. After that first night Captain Henry got over his fears and now the two boys are fast friends. Luna could care less, indifferent as usual.

Mr. Bubbles follows Captain Henry around constantly, so the name Shadow just makes sense. We really call him littlelittles right now, because he is exactly that. Tiny! Approximately 10 weeks old. Time came to make the decision whether we would keep him forever or pass him on to another family. Poor little fella, he's been all over the place in his short life so far... it just makes sense to keep him here with us where he is comfortable and happy!

So... introducing the newest member of our family,
Mr. Bubbles the Shadow (littlelittles)

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Darcy's Growing Belly

First & Second Trimester

We've been taking a picture of Darcy's baby bump every Saturday morning for the last few months. Obviously our technique is not flawless. We probably should have used a tripod and some tape marks on the floor, but you get the idea. Changes in background are vacation days!

Monday, October 20, 2008

Ode to the West Wind, etc.

Why the west wind?

Wiatroski means of the wind in Polish. We live in California, further west than all of our family. We are each quite windy in our own special ways.

Ode to the West Wind
Percy Bysshe Shelley

O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being,
Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,

Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,
Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou,
Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed

The wing├Ęd seeds, where they lie cold and low,
Each like a corpse within its grave,until
Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow

Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill
(Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air)
With living hues and odours plain and hill:

Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere;
Destroyer and Preserver; hear, O hear!

Thou on whose stream, 'mid the steep sky's commotion,
Loose clouds like Earth's decaying leaves are shed,
Shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean,

Angels of rain and lightning: there are spread
On the blue surface of thine airy surge,
Like the bright hair uplifted from the head

Of some fierce Maenad, even from the dim verge
Of the horizon to the zenith's height,
The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge

Of the dying year, to which this closing night
Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre
Vaulted with all thy congregated might

Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere
Black rain, and fire, and hail will burst: O hear!

Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams
The blue Mediterranean, where he lay,
Lulled by the coil of his crystalline streams,

Beside a pumice isle in Baiae's bay,
And saw in sleep old palaces and towers
Quivering within the wave's intenser day,

All overgrown with azure moss and flowers
So sweet, the sense faints picturing them! Thou
For whose path the Atlantic's level powers

Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below
The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear
The sapless foliage of the ocean, know

Thy voice, and suddenly grow grey with fear,
And tremble and despoil themselves: O hear!

If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear;
If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee;
A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share

The impulse of thy strength, only less free
Than thou, O Uncontrollable! If even
I were as in my boyhood, and could be

The comrade of thy wanderings over Heaven,
As then, when to outstrip thy skiey speed
Scarce seemed a vision; I would ne'er have striven

As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need.
Oh! lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud!
I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!

A heavy weight of hours has chained and bowed
One too like thee: tameless, and swift, and proud.

Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is:
What if my leaves are falling like its own!
The tumult of thy mighty harmonies

Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone,
Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce,
My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one!

Drive my dead thoughts over the universe
Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth!
And, by the incantation of this verse,

Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth
Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind!
Be through my lips to unawakened Earth

The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind,
If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?