Real Life

Well, I tried. However, not only do I not have time to continue blogging at mamlovesteaching, I have very little interest. I'm loving the curriculum I created, and use it daily, but I just don't have the time to mess around with publishing it on the blog, or commenting on it.

So, today I deleted my third blog, and will just get on with my life: feed, change, cuddle, repeat.

I mailed Christmas letters with a baby pic to everyone I believe reads this blog except one friend, whose address I have to track down (initials LB). If anyone else knows me, is still reading this, didn't receive one, and wants one, send me an email and I'll put it in the mail.

Maybe someday I'll have time to write again.

Then End of This Blog: Birth Story, The Super Long Detailed Version (#4)

If you want the basics, go to my previous post. If you want it all, read on, my friend.

I preface this by saying that several weeks before my labor, I was a nervous wreck. Then during our Tuesday night Bible study my friends prayed for me to have peace. The relief was instant. I never got nervous again, including during the experience. The point of pushing was very intense and scary, but I was in the moment, and not afraid of what was to come. So for anyone who is worried about labor, call upon God and he will deliver you from your fears.        

  It all started on Friday, November 5, three days before my due date.

            I woke up suddenly on Friday morning at 8:00 a.m. feeling a tiny bit wet. Jumped out of bed in case my water had broken and soaked the sheets. Nothing. Went to the bathroom. A few drops of water came out after I was finished. Strange. I figured it was my water leaking, but I didn't know if it was actually broken or not since it was just a few drops.

            I called my sister, who told me to wear a pad and wait for a gush of water. So I went about my day, but didn't go anywhere because I didn't know what to expect, and I figured I'd be in labor within a few hours and have the baby that day.

            After some online searches to see what in the world was going on, I lay down on my left side a few times during the day. Each time, a trickle of water leaked out, but it was never enough to get my clothes wet through the pad. At 4:45 the pad was no longer colorless, but faintly pink. Not bloody, just pink water. From then on I filled several pads with this pink water that slowly, slowly leaked out. I knew I had to have the baby soon, because I was losing a lot of amniotic fluid, but I DID NOT want to be put on Pitocin because I feared the increased pain. So I still didn't call my doctor.

            Keegan went on an errand, came home, and then went to spend time at a friend's house. I figured as long as I wasn't having contractions, there was nothing for him to do. Around 6:30 p.m. I was getting stir-crazy and anxious. I'd basically been home alone all day, and it was getting to be too much. I needed a distraction. I called a friend who is also my neighbor, and asked if she'd walk to Walgreen's with me. I needed to get a new cell phone card so the one we had didn't expire while I was in the hospital. The store is only a block or two away, but I didn't want to walk that far alone in the dark, not knowing what was about to happen to me. She came over around seven, and we hit the street. It felt good to walk briskly in the cold night air.

            At the store, I realized it was my last night of not being a mother. With all the fluid I'd lost, no matter what my body did on its own, I knew I had to have the baby in the next 24 hours. My plan was to call the doctor in the morning if contractions still hadn't started.

            I saw the movie "Elizabethtown" in the discount bin, bought it and some Fritos, and asked my friend to watch with me so I wouldn't be alone. She brought her crocheting and I hand-stitched on the baby's quilt. She left around 10 p.m. and I went to bed.

            Around 10:30, contractions started. They were unmistakable. Not too painful, but like period cramps, something I hadn't felt in nine months. Nothing at all like the Braxton-Hicks contractions I'd been having for the past three months. I remembered my relaxation exercises and how to breathe, and also that I was supposed to try to get some rest. So I stayed in bed and just breathed through them. They were about nine minutes apart from the start of one to the start of another. They came in waves of pain like a bell curve that got stronger in the middle and then backed down. Each contraction was pretty short--probably less than a minute.

            Keegan came home at 11:00 and I told him to get some sleep because when the contractions were close enough together he would have to drive me to the hospital. From 11 to 12, the contractions became more painful, and lying in bed was not a comfortable position. I knew that counter-pressure on the lower back was supposed to help, but I didn't ask Keegan to do that yet because I figured he should save his strength. By midnight I couldn't stay in bed any longer for the pain, so I got up and washed some dishes. There wasn't much to do in the middle of the night with my mind going crazy for what was ahead. With each contraction I stood behind the couch (it's not against a wall) and leaned my lower back into it. That helped a lot. Much better than lying in bed just breathing. During this time I also charged up my camera batteries and cell phone and put my hospital bag by the door. Looking back, I am a bit amazed at how calm I was during this initial phase.

             At 1:00 I started recording the contractions. From 1 to 2 a.m., they were an average of 4 to 6 minutes apart and coming in varying degrees of pain. So I called my doctor at 1:45. I had no idea how that would work, since I was calling an office number after hours. As it turned out, the on-call physician asked me a few questions and then we hung up. A few minutes later he called me back and put me through to my doctor, who sounded very groggy and told me to go ahead and come on in to the hospital. I thought what a strange job she has, to be woken up in the middle of the night while at home with her husband and two children.

            I woke Keegan, who was deeply asleep and needed to be roused many times over about twenty minutes before he was awake enough to realize what was going on. I was fully packed, and my stuff was already by the door, so we just got in the car and hit the empty city streets. I was happy the contractions weren't too painful in the car, but I was disappointed that they appeared to be slowing down. I wanted this baby out!

            As we walked into the hospital, the guard at the security desk asked us where we were headed, and I remember thinking, "Will they even believe me that I'm in labor? I'm not demonstrating any signs of pain. Is this normally how women come to the hospital? This is not how I imagined it." But of course he let us in.

            I got to registration, and they were expecting me, as my doctor had called them. The registration was about thirty seconds long, and they put me in an exam room.

            I changed, got on the bed, and waited for the nurse. After many questions, a resident came in to check if I was dilated. That was actually much more painful than any of the previous four hours of contractions. It brought tears to my eyes and seemed to take forever. It was much more painful than the times my doctor had checked me at my last few appointments. They determined that my water had indeed broken, and that I was at four centimeters. Therefore, I could stay at the hospital and be assigned a labor and delivery room. Ah, relief!

            Because my water had broken so long ago, they told me they wanted to put me on Pitocin right away. I told them I didn't want to do that, and that I'd like labor to progress naturally. I asked if I could just walk around. I explained that while I was at home walking around, doing dishes, the contractions were stronger, but that they had slowed down in the car ride. They called my doctor, and came to a compromise. By now it was 4:30 a.m. They would give me until 6:30 to walk the floor.

            Unfortunately, back in April at my first doctor's appointment, it was determined that I am group B strep positive, which boils down to the fact that I would have to have a penicillin IV during labor to prevent harm to the baby during delivery. So instead of walking freely, I had to have the IV inserted first and walked around the floor pushing the IV pole. What a pain! I remember saying to Keegan, "I hate this, knowing that for EVERY single baby I have in the future, I have to have an IV." I knew I'd never have an all-natural childbirth. I'll always have to be hooked up to something. Already I was thinking that this was a wretched experience and I didn't want to go through it again. Oh, yes, I had not only the IV pole, but also a belly band with several monitors and the long cords hanging from them draped over my neck while I walked the halls. I felt like a ridiculous science experiment, and thought how different this must be from the millions of women who give birth in poverty without all these crazy modern medical devices.

            The hospital hall walls were lined with hand rails at the perfect height for leaning my back into with each contraction. They were painful, but not unbearable. Every half hour I had to go back so they could check the baby's heart rate. Then I'd continue to walk the halls with Keegan.

            Around 7 a.m. I was examined again on the machine that records contractions. They didn't give me a choice at this point. I had to be put on Pitocin because the contractions had slowed down, and it had been almost 24 hours since my water had broken.

            From this point on I was confined to the bed. Also at this point the nurses changed shifts and I went from having Anne-Marie to Deb. Both were great. Deb had a lot to do with me getting through the entire ordeal. She was amazing.

            As soon as the Pitocin drip started, I felt the increased pain. It was remarkably uncomfortable because I couldn't lean against anything. All I could do was lean forward over the birth ball (which we positioned on the bed) or stay in the bed. The cords didn't reach any farther. I had to press the nurse button every time I wanted to use the bathroom so she could unplug the electric cord on the IV. Usually the contractions were so close together that one would come while I was on the toilet. There was no relief then. The contractions quickly started coming one and a half minutes apart, which meant they often came one on top of another. The nurse turned down the drip, because that was too close together. From that point on they were about two minutes apart.

            Keegan pressed on my lower back for the worst of them, and Deb also helped with that. Once she gave me a shoulder rub, which was nice, and at one point she brought me some red jello. I don't even normally like jello, but this was like the best food ever. I hadn't eaten since 1 a.m. at home, when I had a banana. Deb also let me drink as much water as I wanted, plus some juice. I didn't know if I'd be allowed to drink during labor, with the various things I'd heard, so I was happy about this.

            When I think of the contractions, I barely think of the eight and a half hours before the Pitocin. They really weren't that bad. I could handle it on my own by leaning my back into something and breathing carefully. After the Pitocin, I needed help. Looking back, I am surprised that it was only three and a half hours of this painful time before I asked for pain relief. It felt like much longer than the previous 8 ½ hours.

            During these 3 ½ hours, I mainly stood leaning over the birth ball or I sat up in bed so Keegan could push on my lower back. He was totally exhausted, so I didn't ask for help on every one, but just the worst ones. I'm not sure what percentage that was. I prayed a lot, and he read to me Psalm 121. Sometimes I cried out to God out loud when the contractions were two minutes apart. There was no relief in sight! I had no idea how long this would last, and that was the worst part. When someone checked me (was it my doctor or the resident or a nurse? I can't remember.) I was only at five centimeters.

            At 10:30 a.m. I looked at the clock and saw that twelve hours had passed. TWELVE HOURS! The pain was at its worst right now. I could barely speak. When I'd have the worst pains, I'd look at Keegan and beckon to him with my hand. I felt really bad for him at this point and didn't think it was fair to keep putting him through this. He was in more emotional pain watching me, because he felt completely helpless seeing me go through this physical pain. I was also exhausted and wanted to sleep, but couldn't. I was tired of calling him over. He would rest in a chair until I called him, because he was so tired, and I was sick and tired of it all. I had prepared myself in my mind ahead of time to be willing to ask for drugs if I determined on my own that I needed them. I'd written in my birth plan that I absolutely didn't want an epidural and that I didn't want anyone to offer me drugs, but to wait for me to ask for them. The hospital staff honored those requests completely, and didn't even suggest anything. If I'd paid for a doula who would have stayed at my side the whole time, I might have been able to go on without drugs, but honestly, it was a lot of trouble to rely on Keegan and Deb to help me when I felt like it was my choice to go on experiencing this. I was sick of asking for their help.

            So at 10:30, I was standing beside the bed, leaning over the birth ball in extreme pain, and weeping quietly. I cried to Deb, "I just can't take this anymore. Is it too late to get an epidural?" She told me it was not too late. But I still didn't really want that, so I asked if she had anything else to suggest. Deb was so encouraging. She told me I had done amazingly well, and should be very proud of what I'd accomplished. She suggested a drug I'd never heard of called Oxymorphone, which is a synthetic form of morphine. In her words, it would be just like morphine without causing me to throw up. It would just take the edge off and allow me to rest a little, but I would still feel everything. Only an epidural would take the pain away.

            Now, an aside: my reasons for not wanting an epidural are not because I think it's heroic to go natural or anything like that. I figure if 80% of women have them, they're probably a pretty good thing. First of all, the idea of being numb bothers me. Second, not feeling the pushing and increasing the likelihood of tearing scares me. Third, not being able to get up after the labor unnerves me. Fourth, feeling more pain AFTER labor than DURING just seems backward. But the main reason is this: I have fused vertebrae and slight scoliosis, and met with an anesthesiologist in October to determine if it was even an option for me. The bottom line was that yes, I could have one, but the chances of it being botched were greatly increased. They might not insert it correctly, they might have to insert it multiple times, and even if it was inserted correctly, the pain relief might be uneven on the left and right sides, and I'd still feel pain. SO....that pretty much scared me more than the prospect of painful labor. I ruled it out.

            Alright, back to the story. At 10:30 Deb got me hooked up with Oxymorphone in my IV. I was really pickled by now. Saline, Penicillin, Pitocin, and Oxymorphone. Not exactly my idea of how I would have liked things to go, but it really wasn't up to me. My body was in complete control. Keegan hated seeing me in such pain and told me how glad he was that I'd finally asked for drugs. That made me feel better about my decision.

            The Oxymorphone started working immediately. I was able to get back in the bed and stay there while Keegan dozed in the chair. I still felt the contractions, and they were even more painful at this point. But the result of the drug was that I was too tired to care. I was relaxed enough to just try to endure on my own. Only occasionally did I call for Keegan's help. Every half hour or so Deb would help me get in a different position since I was too lethargic to move myself around anymore. This went on for two and a half more hours until 1:00.

            At some point in the morning, my doctor came in to see me and she determined that my water had only partially broken. That's why I never experienced a gush of water. She said she would break the rest of it and that should speed things up. Apparently I'd had a "high break." Imagine a balloon filled with water. It gets a pinprick at the top and instead of exploding, the water starts slowly leaking out of that hole at the top. Eventually, the remaining water is below the hole and it can't leak out because it can't reach the hole. That's what happened to me. There was a pool of fluid remaining in the bottom of the sac, and my doctor broke that. I was surprised at how much warm liquid gushed out at that point, since I'd already lost so much the day before. That was uncomfortable, but by then I didn't really care.

            At 12:35 p.m. I was checked again and found to be only at six centimeters.

            The last position I was in before pushing was on my left side, just lying there enduring it. Keegan was asleep in the chair and Nurse Deb was out of the room. It was 1:00 p.m. Suddenly I felt a freight train barreling down inside me. I was shocked and terrified and knew the baby was about to come. I was in crazy pain and felt so out of control of what was happening. I was scared out of my mind, but "with it" enough to be excited in a wild way, because I knew it was almost over. I'm going to try my best to describe this feeling, but there is no way to really understand it without experiencing it. There is nothing else like it.

            This feeling of needing to push was so strange. I felt an intense seizing like I had to throw up, but out the other end. I felt like it was going to happen, and it had to happen, but it wouldn't happen unless I pushed. And although I knew I needed to push, I had no idea how to do it. I could instinctively tell there must be a right way and a wrong way, and I was terrified of doing it the wrong way, for what damage might result. I also felt paralyzed in the side-lying position I was in.

            So... I started screaming! I yelled, "Help! Help!" and my first cries were feeble. Then I started yelling it louder. When no one came instantly, I started screaming, "Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!" as loudly as I could. My fear was the baby coming out while I was all alone there. Suddenly the doctor, nurse, and Keegan all rushed to my side. My doctor was great. She didn't waste any time. She checked me while the nurse got the delivery table set up, and said I was at 9 ½, but that I was probably ready. I'm not sure if I got to ten at that point or not. It all happened so fast.

            Deb told me to get on my back, and I remember frantically saying, "I don't know how to do that. How do I do that?" because I honestly felt like I couldn't move. Deb said, "Just roll over." And I did. That part makes me laugh looking back. I can't believe how out of control it felt.

            Here was the only real surprising part of the entire ordeal. In all my reading on labor and delivery, I never came across the information that the contractions are still going on during the pushing phase. I thought you had contractions until ten centimeters dilation, and then you pushed. But I had to push during the contractions. That was news to me. The good thing about it was that between contractions I got a break from pushing. First I was screaming and yelling as I pushed, because that is what I felt like doing, but Deb and the doctor told me to hold my breath and push while they counted to ten during each contraction. I didn't always make it to ten, but I tried. Also, I always figured you would push as hard as you could, but somehow I held back and didn't quite do that. As long as the doctor was satisfied with each push, I wasn't going to make it any more painful than it had to be. This went on for a total of sixteen minutes until my baby was born. Toward the end, my doctor told me she could see his head, and that with one more contraction I could have his head out if I wanted to. Keegan also looked at me and told me he could see his head. I never looked down. I was concentrating so hard I didn't want to be distracted. Finally the last push came for his head, and then his body came out in one more push.

            What instant, sweet relief! Baby was purple and had to have a few puffs of oxygen, but it all happened so quickly I didn't even know it until Keegan told me later. They cleaned him up and gave him to Keegan right away while they cleaned me up. Despite all the pain and emotion, there were some funny moments. The doctor said to me as she peeled off my socks, "I don't think you're going to want these socks anymore." I looked down for the first time, and my white socks were so shockingly, disgustingly bloody I had to laugh. I told her no, I wouldn't want those anymore. I then started talking about how I couldn't imagine why anyone would want a home birth and have this mess to clean up. I was so grateful to Deb who just selflessly cleaned me all up. What a gross job, but I was so thankful to have her do it for me.

            Then the best part happened (besides having the baby of course): Deb asked my doctor if I needed stitches, and my doctor said, "Let me just apply pressure and see what happens." I had three tiny tears, but my doctor stopped the bleeding right away and I didn't need stitches! I couldn't believe it! I still can't believe the baby came out without ripping me to shreds, but it's true. Praise God for that!!!

            After they finished cleaning me and the bed, and I'd delivered the placenta, which I asked to look at out of sheer curiosity, I was finally given my baby boy. I guess you know what that's like if you have had a child, and if not, you can probably imagine it. I don't think I need to describe that emotion. Baby was born at 1:16 p.m. on Saturday, November 6.

            So that's my first birth experience. I hope this is helpful for those of you women who will give birth in the future. For anyone else who stuck with it and read all 4,200 words, thanks for broadening your perspective on labor and delivery. Too often we only hear the worst parts because that's where the shock and awe come in. I hope you could see that the experience was not fifteen hours of torture, but that it had its ups and downs. Yes, it was the most physically painful thing I've ever experienced. No, it was not so bad that I wouldn't do it again for another child.

           

           

           

           

           

The Birth Story, Versions 1 and 2 (#4)

I haven't had much computer time this week. The boy is one week old tomorrow! As I sit here, he is wide-eyed, lying on the floor on his side so his beautifully-shaped head doesn't go flat. Yes, I put him to sleep on his back.

I know it pains you to read this, just as it pains me to type this, but I'm not putting any photos of our son online, nor am I going to use his name. So...if you know me and didn't receive an email with pictures of the baby, send me an email or give me a call and I'll take care of that.

You can read as much or as little as you're interested in here. Coming soon: the long, detailed version (not for the faint of heart). For everyone else who just wants to know the general facts, here you go!

The Birth Story: The Basics

My water broke at home on Friday morning, November 5, at 8:00 a.m. Contractions started that night at 10:30 p.m. We went to the hospital between 2 and 3 a.m. I started pushing at 1 p.m. He was born at 1:16 p.m. on Saturday, November 6. We came home on Monday afternoon. My mom was here until Thursday night. Tomorrow (Saturday), Keegan's family comes into town. His mom will stay until next week Wednesday.

The Birth Story: Shorter Version (But Not Very Short)

My water broke at home on Friday morning, but I didn't start contractions until 10:30 p.m. that night. The water was just trickling or dripping out through the day, and I didn't call my doctor because I didn't want to be induced.

Between 1 and 2 a.m. Saturday morning the contractions were about five minutes apart. I called my doctor. We arrived at the hospital between 2 and 3 a.m. I was at four centimeters. The contractions slowed down, and they wanted to put me on pitocin right away. I resisted. They allowed me to walk around the floor until 7. The contractions had slowed down even more. Now it had been almost 24 hours since my water broke. They put me on pitocin, and from then on I was pretty much stuck in bed.

The pitocin drip started working immediately, making the contractions stronger and closer together. I was calmly breathing through them until 10:30 when I couldn't take it any more. I saw the clock, saw that I'd made it through twelve hours, was only at five centimeters, had no idea how long this would take, was totally exhausted, didn't have anything to prove, started crying, and asked for some pain relief.  They gave me oxymorphone through the IV. 

At 1:00 in the afternoon, when the contractions were less than two minutes apart, and often coming one on top of another,  I was suddenly startled with the intense feeling of the baby ready to come out. Keegan was asleep in the chair, the nurse was out of the room, and I couldn't believe the pressure. I started screaming, "Help! Help! Aaaaaa!" and the nurse, doctor, and Keegan rushed to my side. They were great and talked me through it so well, I didn't need any stitches. Yay! Sixteen minutes of pushing, and he was born at 1:16 p.m.

Like I said, I'm working on the long, detailed version for those of you who like that kind of thing. Of everything I did to prepare for birth, the most helpful thing was reading birth stories in books and online. Reading what women experienced firsthand was the best way to prepare for all possible scenarios. 

Great Entertaining Blog Discovered! (#s 6, 8, 9, and 12)

This past month I stumbled across The Reluctant Entertainer. Wow. I LOVE her philosophy. I'm adding this to my sidebar. I actually read quite a few blogs regularly, but I only put a few of them on my sidebar.

Keegan and I love having people over for dinner because:

a) I'm an introvert and I'm more comfortable in my own home than anywhere else. He's an extrovert and loves showing off his office and sharing his tea collection.
b) We don't like driving at night, and if we host we don't have to worry about how tired we get or whose turn it is to not have a glass of wine (um, okay, lately that's been me by default, but soon we'll be switching again)
c) We love our friends and getting to know new friends.
d) We can't afford to go out to eat. Even if we could, you can't sit in a restaurant forever the way you can in someone's home.
e) We like trying new foods, perfecting our favorites, and sharing them with our friends.
f) We both get a thrill out of the planning phase...what to eat, drink, what music to have in the background, whom to invite, etc.

We had a Chinese dinner party early in October, and then two weeks later I had the book club. I always struggle with getting things just right, and trying to balance that with enjoying myself. But most of all, I want the guests to have a good time.

This blog by Sandy Coughlin offers tips and stories of how she accomplishes these goals. I think I'd like her book as well.

I have a deep desire to keep having people over even after the baby is born. It will be even more important to not try to have everything perfect, as I will be even LESS in control with an infant. Plus I may have to ask people for help, or accept their offers, which I usually turn down. I like to do things MY way. My way is going to have to change.

Last year I wrote about two friends who are examples to me when it comes to entertaining. I like that they always make their guests feel special. That is something I strive for, but it does not come naturally. What comes naturally is wondering if I got everything just right, and so on...the STUFF rather than the PEOPLE. It should be the other way around.

The Reluctant Entertainer website is a great place to get encouragement, inspiration, and concrete ideas if you need help in this area. My mom and I had an interesting conversation about this once. We were trying to figure out what specific things people do that make you comfortable in their homes. What are your thoughts? I remember a few things we noted that we've experienced:

When stopping in, being offered a drink within a few minutes is very nice.
As an overnight guest, it is nice to have a box of Kleenex in the room by the bed.

These are little things, but they make a big difference. They might not come naturally the first few times you entertain, and they won't come at all if your house isn't as clean as you'd like it to be--and that's what's on your mind. Whatever level of clean that is, is up to you. But your house should be as clean as it needs to be for you to be at ease when you have people over. I like FlyLady for this. For my tips on how to get started on FlyLady, read this post I wrote.

I love New Year's Resolutions. (Shocking, I know.) 2011 could be the year you get into FlyLady. It could be the year I have people over and focus on my guests instead of myself and the stuff I prepared. I'm praying for that.

Now We Know the Month (#4)

Until today he could have been an October or a November baby. Now we know he'll have a November birthday.

Thirty-nine weeks today. I had a very quick appointment with my doctor. Nothing new. No telling when I'll get to see his little face.

Last month or so I had a dream that he was born on November 14. That would be six days late. I still hope he's early, but I can hold out until November 14 if I have to.

Meanwhile, my house is super clean, and yet I continue to clean every day. The freezer is full. The pantry is starting to fill up as well. I bought a small diaper bag a week ago. It was the last thing I still needed to pick up.

I started hand stitching the quilt a few days ago. It looks great, but the white thread on the light background doesn't photograph well. It's a very clean look. I love it. If I can figure out some better lighting I'll try to post sometime, but so far the pictures are no good. You really can't see the stitching at all. On the nine patch squares I am alternating stitching a cowboy hat, a boot, a horse's head (the most detailed), a star, and a horseshoe. So far, so good. The alternating squares with the cowboy print are all the same: simply outlined one quarter inch inside the octagons, so as not to cover the fabric. If Baby is late, I might have it done before he's born, since I've cleared my calendar this week. Otherwise, my goal is to finish it by February 1.

I've been spending a lot of time preparing my Chinese materials. I'll write about that on my newest blog. It won't be only about Chinese, of course, but that is the subject that takes the most preparation.

Thanks for all your well wishes and prayers. It's fun knowing there are so many people out there waiting to meet him and hear about him!

Back When It All Started

Here I am in Beijing getting ready to sing karaoke and check something off the list for the first time. There is our hideous, tiny kitchen on the left. I'm so thankful for our apartment we have now! Even though Keegan and I want to go back to China, I hate the thought of having a horrible kitchen again!

Thirty-Seven Weeks, Five Days (#4)

My hope was to go into labor last night after cleaning up after the book club. I wanted to check into the hospital at 1 a.m. in order to stay as long as possible. That didn't happen. Actually, I can't say it was what I truly wanted, but what I DID NOT want was to go into labor before the party.

BUT, just in case it did happen, I took these pictures yesterday.

I probably shouldn't be stretching out one of my favorite non-pregnancy tops, but I had to wear my "Cheers" shirt for the Aussie party, right?

Australia Party (#9)

Last night I hosted a small group of friends for the first book club gathering. They loved my kangaroo crossing sign on the door and cucumber cut-out camels. Camels are NOT native to Australia, but have been brought in and many roam wild in the outback. Plus, they were the subject of my book, Tracks, by Robyn Davidson.

No, this bactrian is not the type of camel that lives in Australia. They have the one-humped dromedary from Arabia. However, when I went cookie-cutter shopping, the single-hump camel cookie cutter was gigantic and I knew I'd never be able to make it work for me.

I served "Australia's National Dish" according to many online sources: Meat Pie. Basically, it is a pie crust on the bottom, a filling of seasoned ground beef, and a top of puff pastry. No vegetables in it, so I made a big raw veggie tray. I found many recipes, and ended up using this one from ehow.com. I followed it very closely, except that I used my own favorite pie crust recipe for the bottom crusts (no suet!). I pre-baked the bottom crusts for 8-10 minutes before adding the filling. Also, I added onion powder, but otherwise the seasoning was according to the recipe. 

Everyone LOVED it, including Keegan. I think I'll be making it again sometime. It's a pretty cheap dish--not a whole lot of ground beef for two pies. The puff pastry top was the most expensive part, because I had to buy that. I'm sure you could just use another pie crust on top, but every recipe I came across actually did have two different kinds of crusts. I thought I better go authentic the first time.

The other Australian food served, besides the wine, was Vegemite on toasts. I used my cookie cutters for those as well. Spread very thinly over butter, it wasn't bad! I wonder if that's because I'm pregnant. I know most Americans don't care for Vegemite, at least not at first. The best were the ones with avocado smeared on. That's a common way for Aussies to eat Vegemite. Fortunately the avocado I bought was a really good one. That's always a gamble.

I had leftover puff pastry and pie crust scraps, and not one to let any form of pastry go to waste, I made cinnamon-sugar kangaroo cutouts with the pie crust scraps. I also baked up the puff pastry corners. All were devoured by the ladies.

Oops, the one in the middle lost its foot.

I also served fresh fruit and a chocolate cheesecake. I really pigged out, but the funny thing is I felt really good afterward. Lately it seems like I'm hungry ALL THE TIME, and have to eat every two hours. After the book club, I actually felt satisfied, like I'd finally eaten enough. And when I woke up at 2:20 am to use the bathroom, I WASN'T hungry! At five I was starving, though.

Overall, it was a very nice evening. We each had read a different non-fiction book on Australia, and shared what we learned. My poor sister was sick with the flu and couldn't leave her house, but we did have her on speaker phone for about a half hour while we talked about our books. None of us previously knew much about the place, so we all learned something. Several of them said, "I never read non-fiction, so this was a good idea." Yay! I was happy to hear that. The next hostess has chosen the theme "Survival" and will contact us soon with the details. I'm not sure if I'll make it to that one. Time and Baby will tell! Anyway, my work here is done. The rest is just for fun.

So there you have it, folks. Everything on this list that I could control, is fully accomplished. Now I'll just sit back and wait for number four...stay tuned!