thegoodfellas/blogset-br huggingface dataset:
active labor started, after 4cm. So she left, and Ispent that night enjoying my contractions and getting used to that tighteningsensation. Finding positions, finding mind-body connections that helped...Ilearned to zone out completely, give in to the pain, and thus I slept duringsome intervals, all through the night. zoning out in early laborAnd then, morning came. Light, sunshine, renewed energy. Theother midwife came and another dilation check. Some more progress, small, but it was happening. However, weseemed to have entered the initial stages of active labor, so the midwives tookturns staying with us that Saturday, never leaving us alone. I did not feel discouraged and felt like rolling up mysleeves and saying, alright, lets get this started! And from here on I have really hard time with the timeline.Something like this, ready?All family and close friends were informed of labor inprogress (as I said, my end of pregnancy had become an issue of concern andquite the SUSPENSE topic, when will it be, when will it be?? So there was noone who was not aware that a baby was supposed to be coming out at any moment,THEREFORE, it was impossible to hide the news, as people called and texted).So Ezequiel spent quite some time updating and tranquilizingpeople: all is well, labor is progressing, no, no baby yet, all is well, etc,etc, a loop of the same answers. And then...pain got worse, I remember lots of throwing upduring contractions. I remember the taste of vanilla ice cream, I rememberstraws, I remember honey, I remember the shower, I remember finding perfectpositions on the bed, propped up with lots of pillows...I actually liked lyingdown, even though its supposedly one of the worst positions. Being on allfours was unbearable, I remember that too...And I remember that evening started encroaching and someoneasked if I wanted another check...and yes I did!! I felt like I was about to getan A plus after so much hard work..so I lied down and had that horrible checkdone and...No change. No change.Hum. Ok then. That news fell like a ton of bricks, but I did my best to throw the bricks away and remember that time meant nothing, as long as we were well, it meant nothing. And the messaging got more intense, the phone calls to mymom, who was beside herself with worry and after a few hours of no updatesthought to herself: Well, that MUST mean the baby has been born!! Of course!And so she came over unannounced to the apartment, toting my grandma along forthe show. What a disappointment for her to see me still in labor, what a frightand horrible reaction she had...the entire atmosphere of patience and calm andconcentration started crumbling. So now there was that. There were my own concerns, my ownprocess of getting through the contractions, trying to understand what anothernight in labor meant, and the concerns of the entire world following me viatext messages. And my mom. And grandma. Who were now also wedged into thelittle tiny apartment.That night I threw up a loooo-ooot, I remember that, but Ialso got back in the zone and was
able to forget everybody there. I didn't wantto know about time, time was absolutely relative and irrelevant. I got into mylying down hypnotic state with pillows everywhere and dove into the pain aseach contraction took over. All night long. And morning came. Again. This was getting old.However...Sun, light, open windows...one more check...9 cm!I remember shouting, Hallelujah!! Yes! There were even broken waters in the middle of another greatheave, gushing with new life. All motors started running again, enthusiasm took over allwho had spent the night dozing on and off on the couch and chairs:Lets turn on the incense, put on the red-tinted light bulbs,fill the bathtub for pain relief and possible birth, this is it, this is IT! Hope! Fully dilated, tub filled!I was ordered out of the apartment to take a walk. Yes, awalk around the block on a Sunday morning after 2 sleepless nights and anentire day in labor, still having strong contractions, dripping amniotic fluid,hair a mess and a ghastly exhausted look on my face. But off I went, if it wasgoing to help this along, I was going to do it...a very slow and intense walkaround the block...in this absurdly ridiculousely bright sunlight I felt hadnothing to do with my world at that moment. What was that, sunlight? Sundaymorning? I felt like if on another planet completely. We went back to the apt, and I got in the water, thewonderful, wonderful warm tub of water. I was told hey, from here on, you will start to feel theurge to push, go with the flow and do what your body tells you, ok? From now on she needs your help, she can't do it by herself! Shes goingto be born!!Ok, no problem, go with the flow, go with the flow,And yet...Where was the flow?Absolutely no pushing urges. Ok, thats ok, it can take a while, they said.And so some hours went by.Humm, they said. Are you sure? No pushing sensations? No...Absolutely sure??Yes...well, ok..maybe? (I really wanted to be feelingsomething, ANYTHING, it seemed to be very important to them)They started teaching me about this so-called-urge, pushdown there, breath and push down...Lets lie on the bed so that we can watch youdo it and see what's going on.Of course, my mother got nervous once more and paced backand forth in search of WHAT SHOULD BE DONE andwhat WAS NOT BEING DONE. She panicked, basically, and the midwives werepanicking because there was this person questioning their every move and mylabor was not progressing in a form they were familiar with. Nothing was goingas they expected, but since I was still ok, and the baby was still ok, we weremoving on (despite my mother wanting me to go the hospital ASAP. I don't blame her...but it made it tougher). Now the IV-part. They explained:Hey, look, youve been in labor a long time, were afraidyour uterus might stop contracting due to exhaustion, we better be safe andhook you up to Pitocin just to get things moving along again (my time in thetub had seemed to slow everything down).IV? Panic inside me, but hey, if
this is what it takes, herewe go, I am not going to be a baby and be afraid at this point, or show my fear.IV? PURE HELL. The contractions came in little block formations, uniform,one after the other, like punches to my soul. Punch, punch, punch, no time to breathe. With each one I was coached: Breath! Push! Down! Push! More!There! Breath! Oh no, not like that! Youre not doing it right! The frustration was palpable, doubt filling the room. And that lasted a while until I got fed up and exasperated,how could I be doing it WRONG if it was something that supposedly was an URGE,something that would take over me so strongly that no earthly force would beable to stop me? Shouldn't it all be natural?Where was the urge? And I began doubting the whole process.The IV was unhooked, I needed to rest, and everyone neededto regroup. Anxious midwives huddled in corners talking, avoiding my mother whopaced back and forth in her anger and concern. I went to the bathroom, where Ezequiel tried to give me apep talk, about how much I wanted this, about how much we were close (we wereable to see her head during the pushing, but it always scooted back up againwhen I was done). He started saying how I was being influenced by my mother andblablabla, Everything everyone said from there on had become one big drone. One flat sound against a flat wall of me not being able tohear myself anymore. Theres no shame ingoing to the hospitalAre you sure you dontwant to try the IV again?Youre so close! Dontgive up! You cant do thisanymore, youve done all you couldDroningdroningdroning.I cried on the toilet, sad, pathetically drenched in sweat, naked and completely tired of caring who saw what or what I lookedlike. I felt like the apt had been divided into sides and I was on the verge ofmaking one side win and the other one lose.So fed up. I wanted it to be over. I wanted it to be over.Game over.Meekly I said hospital.I was met with resistance, I think one of the midwivesalmost started crying, Frustrated, confused, mad?Hospital please. I need this to be over.I got in the car, feeling nothing at all, numb. I sipped onmy Gatorade and had absolutely no concerns about feeling contractions in thecar, as I knew it was over. And in fact, it was. No more contractions came. Quick summary of hospital:My OBGYN came, so nice, so kind, such a relief amidst allthose worried and tired people who had seen me throw up too many times and hadstuck their hands inside me too many times. Are you sure, Maya, this is what you want? We can tryPitocin again. No. I was adamant, I was desperate, we would NOT try that again,it was absolute agony.But even so, I think the nurses put it in as protocol (??)and as soon as I felt the contractions I started shouting like a 2 year old DESPERATE!! No, no, no, no, what is this?! No, no, take it off, take it off!!
I had lostall self-respect.And it was off.And I was gowned. And I was injected with anesthesia....sweeeeeet anesthesia. Imelted into the inevitable and the relief. Someone take care of it now, I amdone. I put it all in your hands, sweet lady doctor. Surgery. Surrealness. Baby coming out in less than 5 minutes, being shown to me,me saying shes real?? and then baby gone. Me gone. I started shaking, Istarted bleeding, I was in whole new world.Hours later I stabilized. Hours shaking and watching theworld from my horizontal viewpoint, watching Ezequiel pace back and forth withCora tightly wrapped in hospital blankets (thats right, we forgot to pack forthe hospital, we had NOTHING). Grateful I didnt have to hold her. I justwanted to lie there and never have to do anything ever again. Much less thinkabout the fact that there was a baby to care for now. That was completelyun-thinkable at that point.Immediately after birthEventually we went up to the room, and that was the start ofa whole nother story. Breastfeeding began, blood transfusions took place,pain, pain pain and terrible c-section sensation when getting up, sitting up,lying down, going to the bathroom, uuughhhH!!)\Our days at the hospital were pretty much me and this face...exhausted.One day Ill get to chapter 2, as I know the ending has leftmany questions and a sense of sadness, but it was sad for me, as well as abrupt-- so nothing more appropriate.Just to end with something beautiful, this was the last day at the hospital, ready to go.
But now it's June 30 and no period...Part of me wants itPart of me doesn't.It will always be so.I will never be able to be 100% anything.so let go of that fear,Not wanting it doesn't mean you don't want it, get it?One doesn't cancel the other out.July 1st - The day two pink lines showed up on the stickI feel full. It's all been different (so far) and I couldn't be more gratefulIt's like this baby exudes calm. When I focus on little embryo-fish...All curled up in his lenti-sized self with no eyes, arms, legs...I can't feel scared of it.I want to protect it and just be me and him. September - Tummy's getting big and round....Big and round.I feel baby's little flutters, wild kicking which for now only feels like ripples and later will feel like a log wedged in my ribs. I remember well. Baby - you're so little now, you'd fit int he palm of my hand. I don't know how you fit in my life yet, it bewilders me. I'm trying to carry on as normal.I wonder how long I can pull that off. Who are you?JanuaryWe have chosen her name: Violet, or Violeta here in the South.Cora and Violeta. I can imagine her little newborn face.She's a Violet.I can see her older, wavy thick hair, she's a Violet.Sweet strong child.February 23I am now on a hot water bag, escalda-pe, massage, floral de bach, buscopan, and synthroid and nexium and cloridrato de sertralina and showers and birthing bal and short walks and yoga regime. And lots of doula-love. Violet, we are ready for you!Can't wait to meet you.Can't wait to sleep belly DOWNor even UP again. Letter to Violet the night before she was bornViolet, this last month has been a steep learning curve, learning to ride the waves of "what is", of feeling everything from despair, faith, giddiness, boredom, love for your cheeks.I know i'm scared about us becoming four, about leaving my baby Cora "behind", turning that page...Because it does make my heart ache. But I realized yesterday, things have already changed. She's known that for a while. I'm scared of letting her go, opening room for you. But we have to turn the page, which in fact has already been turned. This whole pregnancy has been an intermediary chapter...and I'm tired of being in the middle.Life is urging us to move on.I've had 10 months to say goodbye to Cora baby, and she's done a good job of growing up some more.Her destiny, like yours, will be to grow into her own person, away from me, but, God willing, with me somewhere around.I know she will be the best big sister for you. She will cherish you, be eager to participate. She is eager and full of teachings.You can come, love. There is a home, a bed (several!), laps, milk, warmth and love on this side. There are days like these when I feel the bleeding stop.That inner bleeding that threatened me so frequently over the last weeks, months.Every now and then, there comes a
day like this and gives me survival, sobrevida.Sometimes these days turn into trampolines and the hemorrhaging stops long enoughenough to make my blood counts go up again, create reserve assets.When I feel like myself, I can be exhausted, I can be in pain, I can be sick - but I am not threatened by any of it. That's the biggest difference.When I'm beside myself - the smallest things make the bleeding start up and make me fear for my life.The metaphor takes a real concrete turn when I remember the hemorrhages I had in both my births - three total. The feeling of having the life dripping out of me was one of the most powerless moments I have experienced. Just watching, just feeling...not knowing how or when my body would react and make it all stop and get better.Feeling thankful.
So, week 10 into pregnancy #2. Many things different, many things the same.First of all, there is nothing very new about the experience, been there, done that, even if each pregnancy is unique, I feel very calm about it, not researching every single development of every single week, or even caring too much about what week I am in, or my tests, or my doctor's appointments. They are details.And then, many things are the same. The fatigue, the overwhelming feeling that takes over when I realize I am not in control of my body, or that it is reacting in unpredictable ways. The speed of my weight gain terrorizes me, makes me feel ashamed, like I should be doing everything different, or like I just can't get pregnancy right. It really messes with my self-esteem.I get resentful a lot of the time. Like, why do I have to deal with all of this and everyone else just gets the cute baby to cuddle in the end? And I'M the one who has to see my body morph, vomit, feel sick, stretch, contract, bleed, have mood swings, lose sleep, leak milk, etc. AND listen to endless comments/advice/cautionary tales/opinions/reprimands/what I should do/what I should't do, it is an invasion, a very very culturally accepted invasion. What is it about pregnancy that says "HEY, I AM A PUBLIC BODY NOW, please feel free to comment!" :(It makes me VERY protective of my own self. Like it's me against the world. I'm trying hard to work with this feeling, so I don't get too hostile or down on myself, but it's tough. Engrained in my cells. I feel like preserving this baby and myself as much as possible, for once it's out in the world, it gets harder and harder to preserve a baby, especially as they grow and make it a point of getting muddled in the world. That is the whole point, after all, and it's great when it happens, but for now, you are deep in my insides and I hold you close as if holding myself close, for that is the nature of the symbiosis that we are.I hope I can get into a less messy place, but something tells me that pregnancy was never meant to be "clean" or all pink and rosy. But maybe just a little more peace and inner calm? My daughter will be starting preschool in four days. Several strange sensations come and go. My first-and-so-far-only daughter will be startingpreschool and I realize it is the dawn of a whole new chapter in our lives. Assimple as preschool seems, I am already inundated by a plethora of school requirements,and I feel like I am the one being evaluated here, the kids are just adistraction while the real test takes place: Can you face school all overagain, from the very start? Will you pick the right clothes? Will she have the rightbrand of toothpaste? All these comparisons, taken to the mommy-level. I thought this was a done deal when I grabbed my high schoolgraduation, but I see it
all coming back in little increments. Furthermore, it's a whole new level of parenting choices exposed: the food I send in her snack bag, the shoes I chose for her, the way she deals with separation, with rules, and other adults, other children.We'll be ok, right?I am at the least, very, very curious.Oh my god, what if the teacher ismean? :P
Hello. Long time to write...I haven't been in the mood with so much going on, the idea of stopping just to write about ME has not been appetizing. But now it is again, because every so often I get the urge to speak out about things, especially things that I feel I can't normally say or tell people, out of shame or just awkwardness. Everybody who know me knows that in general, I do pretty well with whatever I set my mind to do. And it all seems to come so "naturally", effortlessly..that is half true, it is easy for me to do lots of things, but the emotional part behind it is everything but. Do you know what it's like to be successful failure? It mess that whenever I get something right - I don't think, wow, yes! I think, whew, relief! THIS TIME I GOT LUCKY. AGAIN. It always seems to be a matter of luck. And then the FEAR of being discovered as a failure gets worse and worse with each "success". The bar gets set higher and expectations as well, and the fear of disappointing is so great. And any time something does NOT go so great, I take it really hard because after all, it just confirms what I've been trying so hard to hide - i really am a failure! See? When something doesn't go well, I freak out because to me, it feels like I'm being exposed for the fraud that I feel like. This especially applies to the areas of "I'm not really an adult", "I don't really know English THAT well" and even "I'm not a real American...or I'm not a real Brazilian" - and when I got my degree in Psychology, the idea of being an impostor of a psychologist was so terrifying I absolutely abhorred the idea of practicing that profession. The stakes were way too high for me. What is this "fraud" syndrome thing? I've read it is a real thing, as in, lots of people feel this way. "Imposter Syndrome" if I'm not mistaken:The beauty of the impostor syndrome is you vacillate between extreme egomania and a complete feeling of: Im a fraud! Oh God, theyre on to me! Im a fraud! So you just try to ride the egomania when it comes and enjoy it, and then slide through the idea of fraud. Tina FeyThe beauty of the impostor syndrome is you vacillate between extreme egomania and a complete feeling of: Im a fraud! Oh God, theyre on to me! Im a fraud! So you just try to ride the egomania when it comes and enjoy it, and then slide through the idea of fraud. Tina FeyThere are an awful lot of people out there who think Im an expert. How do these people believe all this about me? Im so much aware of all the things I dont know. Dr. Chan, Chief of the World Health OrganizationI still think people will find out that Im really not very talented. Im really not very good. Its all been
a big sham. Michelle PfeiferSometimes I wake up in the morning before going off to a shoot, and I think, I cant do this. Im a fraud. Kate WinslettI have written eleven books, but each time I think, uh oh, theyre going to find out now. Ive run a game on everybody, and theyre going to find me out. Maya AngelouFROM: http://startupbros.com/21-ways-overcome-impostor-syndrome/This feeling haunts me, sometimes stronger sometimes almost gone, but always there...It is emotionally draining, one drop of perfectionism at a time, which is not really perfectionism, it's just an attempt to not be discovered. It's really neurotic, totally neurotic - I mean, who are "THEY" and what will they "DISCOVER"? That I, like everyone else, can make mistakes? That in the back stage of doing "a good job" I actually am an ocean of insecurity? How can anyone take me seriously if they find out how much I doubt myself? I guess this is just a beginning for me of discussing the issue, no conclusion of epiphany. Maybe a start of a conversation with all others who feel like this. Do you feel like a successful failure who just gets lucky a lot? How do you deal? How don't you deal?
I caught myself feeling "at home" today.I caught myself forgetting BSBI caught myself loving the familiarity with these streets, the streets that contain this phase of my lifeIt was a curious and very welcome feelingLike letting go of a balloon and watching it disappearinto an undistinguishable dot in the skyThat moment when you're not sure if you can still see itor if it's a speck in your eye, a vague memory.I had to let go. Since as soon as I rememberThere has always been another place, I have never been entirely home.There has always been a piece, missing.A home, away.A long distance call to make. It got better when I settled down, the past becoming just that....Till up we went and moved againMy world came crumbling down.Be patient, I say Be kind. These are the hair fractures that can heal with time, Like that time you bumped your toe in the same place you had bumped it before and it hurt like hell,but passed.Or they can become like that other time, when the nail plain popped out from off my toeAnd all went black. No rush, no rush,but!Hush, hush!No rush.I am tired of the rush, and I promise, after my body came to a screeching halt this weekend, I realized, this is a sign. I might have eaten something that intoxicated me, but it was a sign nonetheless.SLOW THE HECK DOWN.What is the rush?Cherishing the moments with Cora, her view on life, her kisses and silliness, what's the rush? It'll change on its own, so don't wish it away. Let the other stuff fade away into procrastination, into the "I'll do it later", but not my life, her life, the sound of the wind in the trees, the nice feeling of lying on the floor with her watching her fall asleep by herself and her blankie. Percebi que alguns amigos portugueses tem acessado este blog. E com muita alegria que os recebo nesse humilde espaco lusofono. Este blog tambem e uma homenagem a patria que nos ofertou esta tao maravilhosa lingua. Um forte abraco a todos e um portugues bem dito. Sou muito fa de Maria Gadu, e recomemdo o CD multishow ao vivo. Preste atencao nas faixas em que ha a participacao do grupo "Os varandistas". Um portugues bem dito para todos. "Ao persistirem os sintomas, procure orientacao medica." Qual a inadequacao gramatical acima?Essa frase surge na televisao brasileira constantemente. As vezes escrevem "Ao persistirem...", outras vezes "A persistirem...". Qual a maneira certa?Para sabermos, temos de conhecer a sintaxe, parte da gramatica que estuda a disposicao das palavras na frase e a das frases no discurso, bem como a relacao logica das frases entre si.As relacoes entre preposicao e verbo no infinitivo - verbo terminado em ar, er, ir - sao as seguintes:Para + infinitivo = finalidade. Por exemplo: Estamos aqui para estudar = Estamos aqui a fim de estudar. Por + infinitivo = causa. Por exemplo: Por ser contra os socios, deixou a empresa = Deixou a empresa porque era contra os socios. A + infinitivo = condicao quando puder