Midlife tune-up

I normally spend a day or two once a year doing personal maintenance. You know, the basics: a facial, massage, pedicure and doctor appointments. However this past week, as I celebrated my birthday, I had to pull out the big guns...38 feels really old! I am not sure if it is lack of sleep, taking care of a toddler and a newborn or the fact that the two candidates for governor of Florida are only one year older than me but this birthday felt big...a pivotal, shall I say defining, no turning back moment in my life even more so than my artificially scary age of 32... in comparison this is way worse.

At 38, I can no longer claim I am in my mid 30s. And at 38, I don’t yet have the grace and humor of turning 39, the final step before 40. Yes 38 is a rough age to admit to.  

So these past two weeks I have spent doing a more thorough mid-life tune up.

I got a pedicure the day before my birthday. My first one in close to two and a half years. And as I have done for the past ten plus years I got the same color, OPI red, since it felt natural and familiar. Although in the harsh daylight of the following day, the OPI red seemed all wrong, it was too loud, screaming I am off to Vegas without a care in the world (or even worse, I am in denial about my age). While it suited me and my life for 10 years, it is no longer the right color for me. Time to find a new one that tells the world I am a 38 year old mom of two.

To follow up the disappointing pedicure, I had multiple doctor appointments, thanks to the postpartum process and my vanity. And as a result of these appointments I walked away with multiple prescriptions, for both medical necessities and superficial ailments.

With the all clear from my doctor, I went to my first postnatal yoga class with Alva to kick off my “Get My Body Back, But Better” (#GMBB2.0) efforts. Between the stretch marks and extra skin on my stomach I really need to work on losing the remaining pounds from pregnancy and get back into shape. No time like the present.

And in my free time, thanks to a sleepy newborn. I even balanced my checkbook (something I haven’t done since online banking became available) and kicked off a volunteer project for our local homeless center.

So okay, 38 is scary and I am definitely feeling my age, but I think I am now mentally, if not physically prepared and ready for the next year of my life.

Introducing Alva Ellia Breuer

On July 31, 2018 at 11:17am Alva joined the family weighing 7 lbs 12oz and 19.5” long. But let’s back things up a bit and start at the beginning.

Leading up to my final few weeks of pregnancy I was both anxious about the birth (I hadn’t experienced natural labor pains with Oskar and wasn’t sure what to expect) but also ready to get the party started. My doctor, aware of my history and hesitations gave me two pieces of hope: I was given the green light to go to the hospital when my contractions were 7 minutes apart rather than 3 minutes to ensure I had time for an epidural (one of my biggest fears was not having time for one thanks to a horror story told by Erin) and if the Gerken hadn’t arrived by my due date we would schedule an induction. Both eased my concerns and fears and thankfully both weren’t necessary.

On Monday afternoon I started to feel some intermittent cramping. Thinking they were just Braxton Hicks contractions, I didn’t pay them much attention. But by early evening and a few large glasses of water, the contractions, while not stronger, were becoming more consistent. Still not 100% sure this was labor, I decided I should at least let Martin know what was going on…

At 10pm Martin recommended that we let my parents know just in case as they were on stand-by to come over to stay with Oskar. Still unwilling to admit what was going on (for fear of a false alarm and probably due to denial) we waited until midnight to sound the alarm and have my parents come over. With no traffic they were there thirty minutes later and Martin and I were to the hospital by 1am with contractions every 8 minutes.

The first words out of my mouth when checking into triage was a request for an epidural…it wasn’t that I was in that much pain, I just didn’t want to miss my window of opportunity.  But I apparently had to wait until things had progressed a little more before I could get one so we spent some time walking the halls and were finally admitted around 3am. I felt the rush of relief of the epidural around 5am (while chatting with the anesthesiologist about Switzerland) and got a little rest before sunrise.

The doctor ended up breaking my water a few hours later to kick start active labor and around 10am things really began to happen.  A few excruciating pushes later (she was coming down side ways and finally turned face up at the last minute) our little Gerken was born!

Similar to Oskar, we waited to decide on a name until we met her, and thankfully it only took 24 hours (as compared to 48 with Oskar) to agree on Alva Ellia… it might have helped that we started the conversation the night before and we arrived at the hospital with a short list of names. 

We are officially home now, settling into our new routine as a family of four with Oskar embracing his role as big brother and Martin and I embracing the experience the second time around (this time with a little more confidence). 

Oskar meeting Alva for the first time... he asked "can I touch him"

 Xoxo: Lisa, Martin, Alva and Oskar (LMAO)!

A Little “Me” Time

When Oskar was born I had planned for two weeks off of work prior to his arrival but got approximately 5 days off (meaning all of my plans for the time were cancelled). This time around I was leaving nothing to chance... I was taking three weeks off prior to my due date to ensure a little “me” time before Baby Gerken’s arrival. And I took full advantage; my calendar was packed!

I had coffee dates scheduled with mom friends from Oskar’s school, old coworkers and my mom tribe.  I had lunch dates scheduled with Buckles (continuing our monthly tradition of Original Joe’s cheeseburgers), Katya, an old girlfriend from college who just moved back from New York and Martin at Tacolicious (hoping to bring back the good vibes from Oskar’s birth and speed this one along).  I indulged on pie for breakfast and pie for lunch followed by a matinee in the Mission with the moms. And then followed up the next day with a prenatal massage and another movie (this time by myself) downtown.

I went on at least two Target runs (where I got encouragement and positive remarks from each cashier and woman I passed) and I helped clean out my old bedroom at parent’s house. I also did a final cleaning of Gerken’s room to get it prepped for her arrival.  And I managed to find time to pick out tile for Timber Cove (although we ended up purchasing a different brand).

By the end of the first two weeks I had done everything on my list other than make bread (I had decided I was going to learn how to make a mean loaf of bread while on maternity leave). 

I was relaxed, rested and ready for anything… Don’t get me I am sure I could have kept myself occupied and entertained for the final and third week prior to my due date; but Gerken had other plans and that was okay by me.

Ruminations on Pregnancy Number 2

Today officially marks the start of my six month maternity leave for baby #2.  With great benefits at salesforce, I have been able to take three weeks off prior to my due date (okay that is actually thanks to CA state law) and six months off after Gerken arrives (thanks to salesforce).  I rolled into the day by sleeping in until 7am (thanks to Oskar and Martin’s 3am bathroom party and subsequent late wake-up) and a croissant and tea at Victoria Pastry Company.   

With some time to myself, I have been able to reflect on the past few months… below are a few of my ruminations of being pregnant the second time around:

• I gave up almost immediately and started wearing maternity clothes as soon as I made the announcement. It would have been hard to explain the elastic waist pants earlier.
• I bought a maternity swimsuit around 4 months for all of my upcoming travel. I automatically sucked in my stomach when trying it on... old habits die hard
• Around 4 months was also when Martin started getting really busy at work and started working late at his office.  I took the opportunity to start watching Mad Men... it might have been a bad choice... Martin working late at the office + a show about men “working late” as a cover for cheating on their wives + pregnancy hormones = a slightly paranoid pregnant wife
• At some point in the second trimester, Oskar developed sympathy pregnancy cravings: he greeted me in the bathroom one morning eating a pickle and pear, one in each hand
• It was also around this time that I officially reached a new low: I found a nacho cheese Dorito in my scarf... and ate it.
• At around 24 weeks, I was informed that I smelled like a dirty hippie. The belly rub cream I bought from Honest Company was the culprit. I wasn’t a fan of the smell but I figured it was just my super sensitive pregnancy nose. Nope, McKane pointed out the terrible smell within hours of seeing each other. I had been using it for a few weeks and Martin never told me! His excuse, he figured it was good for the baby.
• At 25 weeks, I went on a “babymoon” with the Zurich girls. My flight home from the weekend was overbooked and they were offering $1,500 to anyone willing to take a later flight (enough to get the family to Hawaii or one ticket to Europe). I wouldn’t even consider it, I was so excited to see my boys.
• During the second trimester, I also had to stop taking Oskar to school by myself… he wanted to be carried and I could no longer manage the additional weight so Martin joined us in the morning routine.  That, plus sometimes when I walk too fast I grunt like Ma from the Goonies.
• At five months pregnant with baby #2, I no longer trusted a half full bladder
• I welcomed the third trimester with a half pint sniss and a handful of tums
• The third trimester also brought on the following realization… While looking forward to not being pregnant I realized that in ten weeks I will have two kids. I am equal parts terrified and excited
• At 32 weeks with an untreatable sinus infection. I couldn’t help but wonder: when will I feel like myself again? Is it 8 weeks? 6 months? 2 years or more like 18 years?
• At 34 weeks Martin has been sleeping on the couch for the past few weeks since I am apparently snoring like a truck driver. I actually heard it myself and don’t blame him. 
• It was also around this time I got a Granny Fran special with the exchange below:

Granny Fran (at brunch at my parent’s house as I am taking my second helping of quiche): “So Lisa how much weight have you gained?”

Me (stifling a laugh as everyone else is dying to see how I respond): “You know Granny, I have been dying for someone to ask me that.”

Granny: “Well?”

Me: “You go first.... how much weight did you gain when you were pregnant?”

Granny: “18 lbs”

Me: “I am right around there, I am currently at 15 lbs”

Granny: “Well I started out at 105”

Me: “I started out a little higher than that.”

Granny: “Plus you have six more weeks to go...”

Me: (speechless)

To be fair I am not even insulted. With all of her health issues recently I am just happy she hasn’t lost her zing.

• And finally with less than 3 weeks to go, I have finally started nesting.  Oskar, Martin and I spent last weekend setting up the nursery, washing the newborn clothes and getting ready for the arrival of the newest family member.  And while I am sure Oskar still doesn’t quite understand what is about to happen (even though he kisses the belly and takes about the baby) I am excited to see him become an older brother.