I had an appointment with Doc (I actually met with his NP because he’s on vacation) on Friday, and all is well in Liam Land. My blood pressure and urine are good (side note: I had to pee so badly that once I started I amost forgot about the cup part. I had to scramble a little. Don't worry, I washed my hands). His heartbeat sounds good. And he’s still head down (please stay that way, little guy!). NP was impressed that I still had ankles. Why, thank you. She also told me that I certainly didn't look like someone who was 31 weeks, and to essentially shut up and take the compliment. Yes ma'am.
I learned a valuable lesson that morning: DO NOT ask if the doctor can tell if the baby is still head down if there’s no ultrasound machine around. I asked. And NP proceeded to place both of her hands on my belly and push around REALLY hard. I was caught off guard by her force (homegirl was TINY and practically stood on her toes for this maneuver), and totally unprepared for the pain that made my breath catch in my throat. I wanted to say, “Hey NP! There’s a baby in there, and you just shoved him into my SPINE and any organs that haven’t been pushed-up into my chest (yet).” After the assault, L Bean was none too happy. He quickly jabbed back at her with a foot to MY side. Um, hey kid, while I can appreciate your frustration, that’s your momma you’re pounding! In all fairness, I asked for it, so I suppose it was deserved.
What’s new this week? L Bean must be going-through a killer growth spurt because I am spent. Like, I ran 7 miles yesterday but only slept four hours last night, spent. I have bags under my eyes (thankfully, no one has pointed them out to me). Come 2:00 pm, I contemplate putting my head down at my desk. This kid is still sleeping through the night like a champ, though. They say your baby’s sleeping habits while he’s cooking somewhat mirror his habits once he leaves the oven. YES, PLEASE. Believe me, I’m not banking on it. I just have my fingers (and toes) crossed.
We toured a child development center this week. It’s at a church that’s a ½ mile from our house. Score. We both got a really good feeling when we were there. The women who work with the infants are all older, so it’s like dropping your kid off at Grandma’s. I love that. There were four babies lying around and fighting over toys (these two were twins), and I wanted to pick-up and snuggle each one of them. Especially this one little chunker. She kept waving, smiling, and putting her hands up in the air like she wanted to be picked-up. I probably would have thrown my back-out trying, but man did I want to snatch her up and run. We’ve added our name to the waiting list, and as of right now there’s only one other baby on the list for care starting in December.
Did you know childcare is REALLY expensive? And we’ve found somewhere “cheap.” Also, did you know that you have to pay tuition even if your kid isn’t there? Holidays, vacations, sick days – you still pay. It makes sense, but it still sucky poos. One the good side, there are a few instruments available that provide some savings. There’s a child care tax credit. And you can set-up a dependent care FSA. Still, we’re talking A LOT of money. Sad face.
We still haven’t set-up interviews with any pediatricians. I have, however, created a (super awesome) list of pediatricians and questions. I just need to make the calls.
A tour of L&D at the hospital is also in the works. I called Thursday to inquire and schedule, but the office was closed. Hopefully I get a return call sooner rather than later. I also want to try and pre-register as much as possible – fill-out paper work, etc. I’m not a big fan of hospitals, so I’m not looking forward to the tour. Or the stay in two months. I bet having a cute baby to play with will make it ALL better though. I keep forgetting that we get to leave the hospital with more than what we arrived with. So. much. more.
During our birth class Thursday night, I looked at Mr. H and said, “Are you going to remember all of these breathing techniques? They are going to be the last thing on my mind, and I’ll probably need you to remind me.” No pressure, Husband! He nodded, but I wrote them down just in case. Last night was transition breathing (What’s transition? You go from 8 to 10 centimeters really fast with the help of really painful contractions that come really often. I guess HELL would have been a more concise description). I’ll probably just end-up panting and moaning (or screaming), if I’m not numb from the chest to my knees, that is. If an epidural is going to happen, my goal is to at least get to 6 (preferably 7) centimeters before begging for (more like, demanding) it. Epis can really slow things down, so I want to be as close to transition as possible. I don't want any narcotics, because they seem to only slightly dull the pain and make you feel loopy/drunk. Plus, they cross the placenta (aka - baby gets a dose). I asked Mr. H what he thinks my pain threshold will be. He thinks I’ll be pretty tough (but he HAS to say that). I hope he’s right.