Well, Labor Day came and went without any labor. How poetic would that have been?
I had a doctor appointment last Friday, and I had my first internal exam! Friend Sarah tagged along for this appointment. She's seen me naked or half-naked more times than I can count, so her being present for the internal exam was al natural. I thought for sure the exam would be very uncomfortable, but it really wasn't so bad (I'll spare you the description I gave my husband - you're welcome). Doc checked-out L Bean's heartbeat via ultrasound first. All was well. He also took a peak at the placenta, which was visibly maturing. And then he tried to measure his head. I say "tried" because his head is so low in my pelvis that he couldn't get a good read. I won't tell you how low the ultrasound wand was while he was trying to get the measurement, you can just use your imagination.
After the ultrasound, it was internal time! I'd been feeling pressure on my cervix all week, so I was hoping that SOMETHING was happening. According to Doc, I was 1+ centimeters dilated and VERY effaced. So THAT'S what I had been feeling all week. Neither of those measurements mean all that much, as many women are dilated and effaced for weeks before they go into labor. L Bean is very low in my pelvis - good job, little man! Doc told me that he thought I could go at any time. ANY TIME. And sooner rather than later. After the exam, there was some bleeding. This is totally normal, although I did waltz right back into Doc's office to have this confirmed. About to get TMI, avert your eyes boysss: The blood was mucusy, so I was hoping that Doc dislodged my muscus plug. No dice. It's still plugging strong (so gross, but I couldn't resist).
I'm now convinced that L Bean is stubborn like his momma, because he seems pretty darn comfortable. An induction date (no, I'm not going to let you in on the secret) has been set if I don't go into labor on my own. There IS an end in sight.
The weekend was spent like this: Wait. Wait. Waiting. Clean. Wait. Laundry. Wait. Dinner with brother and SIL. Wait. Clean (things that had already been cleaned). Wait. Dinner with brother, SIL, and mom (spicy food). Wait. Wait. WAIT. We threw-in another labor inducing trick over the weekend, but that's PRIVATE.
Oh, and did I mention that I'm sick? Husband was sick all week, and it finally caught-up with me this weekend. So really the weekend went like this: Wait. Blow nose. Wait. Wait. Drink water to sooth throat. Blow nose. Sniffle. Wait. Try to sleep. Wait. Fail to sleep AT ALL. Wait. Husband moves to couch because he's coughing. Wait. Try to sleep. Fail to breath through nose. Day dream about taking Benadryl to help me breath and sleep. Wait.... you get the picture. 39 weeks of being healthy, and my immune system picks NOW to get lazy.
My emotional climate this weekend was like a roller coaster. My poor husband. The waiting is excruciating. I don't know how women stay sane when they actually PASS their due date. Not feeling well and not being able to sleep magnifies every emotion. And then add-on a healthy does of general discomfort from being very pregnant. That Dairy Queen Blizzard last night made me feel better for a bit... and then I felt bad for a different set of reasons. My spirits seem better today. I stayed-home from work in an effort to jump-start feeling better and to catch-up on sleep. There's nothing good on TV and the house is already spotless, so I may go a LITTLE crazy by the end of the day. I keep telling myself that I need to enjoy these last days of having L Bean all to myself. I am truly going to miss being pregnant, so I'm trying to switch my attitude. Easier said than done, but progress is being made.
At dinner this weekend with brother, SIL, and mom, we went-over our expectations for the hospital, visitors, and updates. And then being home, visitors, and updated. And the phone calls and texts to update. It's so hard to coordinate something that is such an unknown. For once, my Type A self has a "well figure it out" attitude. Aren't you proud?!?! Crazy, I know.
Showing posts with label Third Trimester. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Third Trimester. Show all posts
No Much Happening Around Here
I haven't written much in August as there hasn't been much going on. I totally predicted this would happen. We tore through all of our baby prep, and now we're twiddling our thumbs and stalking the calendar. I'm so thankful (and a little surprised) that we stuck to our "get it done early" goal. I can't imagine trying to finish projects at this point. It would all fall on Husband's shoulders (and he's already taken over the following duties: picking-up things off the floor, pulling me out of the laying position in bed, carrying the laundry basket EVERYWHERE, and even getting my phone when it rings if I'm propped-up on the couch - seriously, how lucky am I?).
I had my 37 (and 4 days... but who's counting) appointment last Friday. All is well in Liamland! My BP is normal. My urine looks good (and no, we're not talking aesthetically). L Bean's heart rate is good. I was sent-home with another 4D picture of his adorable little mug. Oh my goodness. THAT FACE. His cheeks look chubbier than last week. And he has the cutest chin - to whom in the family it belongs, we have no clue. Full lips (mom). Cute little ears and button nose (dad). And what look like big eyes (mom). It was the shortest appointment yet. Maybe five minutes. Doc came in and gave me a big hug hello. Have I told you how much I love my doctor? I could put him in my pocket and take him home. If nothing happens before next Friday, he'll check me (we're talking internals, people) to see if I've dilated. Holy cowsers.
I can't believe I'm sharing this, but I promised honesty. Saturday I noticed some stretch marks. Not on my belly (thankfully). I won't tell you the exact spot because I'm still in denial. There's one in particular that looks pretty angry - I call it Murphy. Luckily, they're not really visible to the general public. Hopefully with time (and body shrinkage) they'll get smaller and less angry. I have no one to blame but myself. I've mentioned this before, but I'll tell you again. I've gained some serious poundage during this pregnancy. It may not look like it to you, but trust me - there is at least 40 extra pounds on my frame (I don't know the exact number. I literally cover my eyes when I get weighed). I was a smidge underweight for my age and height when I got pregnant, so some of the weight gain was needed for a healthy pregnancy and baby. But certainly not all of it. I've pretty much consumed whatever I felt like whenever I felt like it. Especially these past few weeks. This is my only regret throughout this entire pregnancy. I wasn't active. My food self control was non-existent. Thankfully I'm at the end, so it can't get much worse. I will tell you - this weekend was an all-time pregnant self-esteem low.
We met baby Jax (Jack for long) last week! He was a week and a half old and so cute you could eat him. We took the family dinner, and in exchange we got to snuggle their sweet boy for a bit. Husband was swoonworthy. He cradled Jax so naturally, and he kept stroking his little arm with a single finger. His face told the story of what was going through his mind - he's SO ready to hold his own son. My heart reached the near explosion level. Jax's mommy looked AMAZING. She has just given birth a week or so before, and she was just glowing. I wasn't expecting her to look rough, but I wasn't expecting her to look THAT great. She wears motherhood so well. It was so fun spending an hour in that kind of emotional climate. We couldn't help but feel the love.
This past weekend Josh had a soccer tournament. His team won! I baked cookies and banana bread. I cleaned and did laundry. I napped and rested. The weekend passed by WAY too quickly. I went to Target and got my "after birth" goodies (the ice packs are already in the freezer).
I figured it wouldn't be very nice of me to send Husband to the store to buy HUGE maxi-pads and hemorrhoids pads. Hopefully I won't need the hemi pads, but I'd rather be over-prepared than under-prepared (Who, me?! NEVER). I also got some big 'ol cotton undies. I'm not much for regular underwear, so it'll be interesting wearing those pad-hammocks for a few weeks. When I brought them home and showed them to Husband, he said, "Sometimes full underwear is really sexy. You know, like boy shorts." To which I said, "Honey, these are NOT boy shorts. They're sole purpose is to hold a pad in place. Think granny-pantie." He stopped smiling after that.
Today my feet are swollen. Husband even noticed. We're keeping an eye on them to make sure it's not happening really quickly, as that's usually not a good thing. I've definitely noticed an up-tick in activity this week. More contractions. More uncomfortable contractions. Longer contractions. A general dull ache in my lower belly from time to time. I'm exhausted; although I think this has more to do with work than anything. I plan to stop working when I pop or until my due date, whichever comes first (that's nine more workdays, max, but who's counting). As each day passes, I realize that working until my due date will be tough. But we have a big deadline coming-up, and it's too important that I contribute. At least it's a desk job.
My dad booked his flights to come visit right after L Bean is born. I can't even tell you how excited I am. I can't wait to see the tears :)
Just for fun, here are two pictures of our oldest kids:
They're ready to be the best big brother and big sister to L Bean!
I had my 37 (and 4 days... but who's counting) appointment last Friday. All is well in Liamland! My BP is normal. My urine looks good (and no, we're not talking aesthetically). L Bean's heart rate is good. I was sent-home with another 4D picture of his adorable little mug. Oh my goodness. THAT FACE. His cheeks look chubbier than last week. And he has the cutest chin - to whom in the family it belongs, we have no clue. Full lips (mom). Cute little ears and button nose (dad). And what look like big eyes (mom). It was the shortest appointment yet. Maybe five minutes. Doc came in and gave me a big hug hello. Have I told you how much I love my doctor? I could put him in my pocket and take him home. If nothing happens before next Friday, he'll check me (we're talking internals, people) to see if I've dilated. Holy cowsers.
I can't believe I'm sharing this, but I promised honesty. Saturday I noticed some stretch marks. Not on my belly (thankfully). I won't tell you the exact spot because I'm still in denial. There's one in particular that looks pretty angry - I call it Murphy. Luckily, they're not really visible to the general public. Hopefully with time (and body shrinkage) they'll get smaller and less angry. I have no one to blame but myself. I've mentioned this before, but I'll tell you again. I've gained some serious poundage during this pregnancy. It may not look like it to you, but trust me - there is at least 40 extra pounds on my frame (I don't know the exact number. I literally cover my eyes when I get weighed). I was a smidge underweight for my age and height when I got pregnant, so some of the weight gain was needed for a healthy pregnancy and baby. But certainly not all of it. I've pretty much consumed whatever I felt like whenever I felt like it. Especially these past few weeks. This is my only regret throughout this entire pregnancy. I wasn't active. My food self control was non-existent. Thankfully I'm at the end, so it can't get much worse. I will tell you - this weekend was an all-time pregnant self-esteem low.
We met baby Jax (Jack for long) last week! He was a week and a half old and so cute you could eat him. We took the family dinner, and in exchange we got to snuggle their sweet boy for a bit. Husband was swoonworthy. He cradled Jax so naturally, and he kept stroking his little arm with a single finger. His face told the story of what was going through his mind - he's SO ready to hold his own son. My heart reached the near explosion level. Jax's mommy looked AMAZING. She has just given birth a week or so before, and she was just glowing. I wasn't expecting her to look rough, but I wasn't expecting her to look THAT great. She wears motherhood so well. It was so fun spending an hour in that kind of emotional climate. We couldn't help but feel the love.
This past weekend Josh had a soccer tournament. His team won! I baked cookies and banana bread. I cleaned and did laundry. I napped and rested. The weekend passed by WAY too quickly. I went to Target and got my "after birth" goodies (the ice packs are already in the freezer).
I figured it wouldn't be very nice of me to send Husband to the store to buy HUGE maxi-pads and hemorrhoids pads. Hopefully I won't need the hemi pads, but I'd rather be over-prepared than under-prepared (Who, me?! NEVER). I also got some big 'ol cotton undies. I'm not much for regular underwear, so it'll be interesting wearing those pad-hammocks for a few weeks. When I brought them home and showed them to Husband, he said, "Sometimes full underwear is really sexy. You know, like boy shorts." To which I said, "Honey, these are NOT boy shorts. They're sole purpose is to hold a pad in place. Think granny-pantie." He stopped smiling after that.
Today my feet are swollen. Husband even noticed. We're keeping an eye on them to make sure it's not happening really quickly, as that's usually not a good thing. I've definitely noticed an up-tick in activity this week. More contractions. More uncomfortable contractions. Longer contractions. A general dull ache in my lower belly from time to time. I'm exhausted; although I think this has more to do with work than anything. I plan to stop working when I pop or until my due date, whichever comes first (that's nine more workdays, max, but who's counting). As each day passes, I realize that working until my due date will be tough. But we have a big deadline coming-up, and it's too important that I contribute. At least it's a desk job.
My dad booked his flights to come visit right after L Bean is born. I can't even tell you how excited I am. I can't wait to see the tears :)
Just for fun, here are two pictures of our oldest kids:
They're ready to be the best big brother and big sister to L Bean!
35 Week Update
35 weeks means there are 5 weeks left. 5 WEEKS. FIVE WEEKS. FIIIIIIVE WEEKS.
I’d like to start this post with a funny (at least I think it’s funny) story: So I’m in the drive-thru at Taco Bell today (and yes, it felt soooo good to be soooo bad) talking to Josh on the phone about what the VW Estimator Man said about the damage to the back of the Passat (more on that later). It’s lunchtime, so there’s a line, and I get stuck next to the Bell’s windows for an extended period of time. I’m holding the phone with my left hand, which is the hand closest to the windows. I randomly peak towards to windows, and I see Weird Guy staring at me. And then Weird Guy proceeds to nod (you know, the upward nod that just screams, How you doin?”), WINK (who are you, Simon Cowell?!?!), and then smile at me. And I quickly averted my eyes. I wanted to get out of the car, tap on the window next to his face, and point-out the obvious that my seated position inside a car was hiding. Swollen fingers, so my wedding ring is around my neck. And big ol’ 35-week baby belly. But hey, thanks for making me feel like I’ve still got it, Weird Guy! On a slightly different, yet still related note – I guess I forgot I was pregnant because I ordered a Number 8 combo (3 hard tacos, since I know you’re curious). That’s all I ordered. If you’ve been pregnant or you’re currently pregnant, then you know what I’m getting at. That’s not even CLOSE to enough food. I easily could have packed-way three more. In hindsight, a Crunchwrap would have added nicely to the meal. And my ever-growing butt thanks me.
Anyway, what’s new this week?
I. Am. Uncomfortable. Please save me from this misery! I kid, it’s really not THAT bad. Although, last night I was whining like a little baby. But for reals, things are getting tight in MA BELLY, Baby is growing something fierce, and my feet hurt constantly. On average, I wake-up 3 times a night to pee (up from my old average of 2 times per night). Sleeping makes my body stiff and sore. This morning, I literally felt like I had run a 10-miler this weekend. I inquired with a work friend and was told this is normal, this is expected, and is what the last five weeks are going to feel like.
I have a doctor’s appointment. How is this different, you wonder quietly to yourself? For the most part, it’s not different. My twice a week schedule will transition to weekly after this appointment. I’ll pee, they’ll test. They’ll take my BP, which I’ll get nervous about and then worry that it’ll be high because I was nervous. He’ll ask how I’m feeling, if I have any questions. I’ll get to peep my little guy for a few minutes through an ultrasound. And here’s where it’s different. It’s the week of my Strep B test. The nurse told me last time to expect the test, and I asked the doctor some general questions about Strep B, the test, reasons for the test, etc. (because I’m a good little patient). There are three words that I really remember (it was EARLY in the morning, and I’m PREGNANT): Penicillin. Swab. Rectum. Okay, okay, SAY WHAT?!?! My tired, pregnant brain couldn’t process the heft of our conversation at the time, but you better believe the wheels were spinning later in the day. I’ve read a few things online, and swab + rectum seem to be a common thread. Feel badly for me. And hope that my assumptions are incorrect.
Oh, hey there, Contraction. I still get a handful of Braxton Hicks Contractions every day. I used to only notice them because my uterus tightened-up like a vice grip. Now I can actually FEEL them. As in, hi, you're kind of uncomfortable. It's doesn't hurt, but it's not comfortable either. They last anywhere from 10 to 20 seconds. There have been a few times where I've had three in an hour, which put me on high alert. Usually the high alert count is 4 in one hour. Last night in our newborn class I had two within 20 minutes of each other, which was an eyebrow raiser. But that third and fourth one never came, so we forgot all about it by the end of class. Husband was so cute during our class break. He said, "So you had one at 7:10 and 7:30 (I wrote the times down on the papers in front of us), but no more after that? Okay, good." Somebody was paying attention!!
No more kicks. I’ll get an occasional kick from my sweet inhabitant, but it’s mostly movement now. Space is limited, so he can’t wind-up like he used to. But the movements, OH THE MOVEMENTS! I think I’d prefer the kicks and punches. Sometimes it feels like he has his hands and feet on my spine and he’s pushing his back and butt out against my belly as hard as he possibly can. You picture that and smile, but it’s not pleasant. And lately he’s been trying to reach a foot or hand around my back. I’ve got news buddy, NOT possible. He’s still trying to stick his hands OUT of my lady bits, which is still closed for exit. And a few times a day he’ll do something that makes me go, “OOH! “ or “OUCH!” or “AAAAHH (sound of breath catching on my throat).” Husband had a stern talk with him last night about not beating-up Mommy, so he’s been a bit calmer today.
The nursery is complete! No more projects. No more painting. No more planning (what am I to do with my time?!?!). No more spending money, HOLLER!! I had a shower this weekend, so there’s stuff in the nursery too. It no longer looks like it’s staged for a magazine cover. It looks READY. And I peak in there every morning before work
Daddy is coming to visit! I just found-out that my dad is planning to visit after L Bean is born for a few days. A few DAYS! A day a meetings will be scheduled in there somewhere, but the other days will be spent hanging out with his grandson. SWOON. My day was made when I heard this news.
I’m tired. Doc wasn’t kidding when he said that Energized Pregnant Betsy would give-way to Exhausted Pregnant Betsy around this time in the pregnancy. Lots of naps have been had.
We're getting REALLY excited. With each day that passes, the reality of what's going to happen (soon) sets-in a little deeper. I had a baby shower this weekend that we'd been talking about for months. Kerry and Caroline came for a visit, which we'd been talking about for months. The nursery that we'd been working on for months is completed. The rooms in our house are painted. The kitchen is organized. There are strollers in our dining room. A carseat on the dining room table. The only thing left to do is to refinish the cradle (it's about 25% complete). Oh, and have this baby. I was talking to my Dad yesterday, and I said something along the lines of, "I can't believe this weekend has come and gone. We talked about it for so long, and now it's over." To which he said, "Yeah, now all you have to do is have this kid!" Wow. Just wow. He's so right. We've planned and prepped. Now there's just one thing left to do - have a baby. And let me tell you, we are SO ready to have this baby. We took a newborn class last night (just a quick 2.5 hour class), and each couple was given a baby doll to use (for diapering, bathing, feeding, holding, etc.). I kept peaking at Husband, and he would be holding the doll. Just holding it (it was a her - we were a little bummed). I couldn't help but smile. He's going to be the best dad. And I think together we're going to be great parents. This past 35 weeks have been the fastest and best of our lives. But I bet it won't even compare to the next few months.
I’d like to start this post with a funny (at least I think it’s funny) story: So I’m in the drive-thru at Taco Bell today (and yes, it felt soooo good to be soooo bad) talking to Josh on the phone about what the VW Estimator Man said about the damage to the back of the Passat (more on that later). It’s lunchtime, so there’s a line, and I get stuck next to the Bell’s windows for an extended period of time. I’m holding the phone with my left hand, which is the hand closest to the windows. I randomly peak towards to windows, and I see Weird Guy staring at me. And then Weird Guy proceeds to nod (you know, the upward nod that just screams, How you doin?”), WINK (who are you, Simon Cowell?!?!), and then smile at me. And I quickly averted my eyes. I wanted to get out of the car, tap on the window next to his face, and point-out the obvious that my seated position inside a car was hiding. Swollen fingers, so my wedding ring is around my neck. And big ol’ 35-week baby belly. But hey, thanks for making me feel like I’ve still got it, Weird Guy! On a slightly different, yet still related note – I guess I forgot I was pregnant because I ordered a Number 8 combo (3 hard tacos, since I know you’re curious). That’s all I ordered. If you’ve been pregnant or you’re currently pregnant, then you know what I’m getting at. That’s not even CLOSE to enough food. I easily could have packed-way three more. In hindsight, a Crunchwrap would have added nicely to the meal. And my ever-growing butt thanks me.
Anyway, what’s new this week?
I. Am. Uncomfortable. Please save me from this misery! I kid, it’s really not THAT bad. Although, last night I was whining like a little baby. But for reals, things are getting tight in MA BELLY, Baby is growing something fierce, and my feet hurt constantly. On average, I wake-up 3 times a night to pee (up from my old average of 2 times per night). Sleeping makes my body stiff and sore. This morning, I literally felt like I had run a 10-miler this weekend. I inquired with a work friend and was told this is normal, this is expected, and is what the last five weeks are going to feel like.
I have a doctor’s appointment. How is this different, you wonder quietly to yourself? For the most part, it’s not different. My twice a week schedule will transition to weekly after this appointment. I’ll pee, they’ll test. They’ll take my BP, which I’ll get nervous about and then worry that it’ll be high because I was nervous. He’ll ask how I’m feeling, if I have any questions. I’ll get to peep my little guy for a few minutes through an ultrasound. And here’s where it’s different. It’s the week of my Strep B test. The nurse told me last time to expect the test, and I asked the doctor some general questions about Strep B, the test, reasons for the test, etc. (because I’m a good little patient). There are three words that I really remember (it was EARLY in the morning, and I’m PREGNANT): Penicillin. Swab. Rectum. Okay, okay, SAY WHAT?!?! My tired, pregnant brain couldn’t process the heft of our conversation at the time, but you better believe the wheels were spinning later in the day. I’ve read a few things online, and swab + rectum seem to be a common thread. Feel badly for me. And hope that my assumptions are incorrect.
Oh, hey there, Contraction. I still get a handful of Braxton Hicks Contractions every day. I used to only notice them because my uterus tightened-up like a vice grip. Now I can actually FEEL them. As in, hi, you're kind of uncomfortable. It's doesn't hurt, but it's not comfortable either. They last anywhere from 10 to 20 seconds. There have been a few times where I've had three in an hour, which put me on high alert. Usually the high alert count is 4 in one hour. Last night in our newborn class I had two within 20 minutes of each other, which was an eyebrow raiser. But that third and fourth one never came, so we forgot all about it by the end of class. Husband was so cute during our class break. He said, "So you had one at 7:10 and 7:30 (I wrote the times down on the papers in front of us), but no more after that? Okay, good." Somebody was paying attention!!
No more kicks. I’ll get an occasional kick from my sweet inhabitant, but it’s mostly movement now. Space is limited, so he can’t wind-up like he used to. But the movements, OH THE MOVEMENTS! I think I’d prefer the kicks and punches. Sometimes it feels like he has his hands and feet on my spine and he’s pushing his back and butt out against my belly as hard as he possibly can. You picture that and smile, but it’s not pleasant. And lately he’s been trying to reach a foot or hand around my back. I’ve got news buddy, NOT possible. He’s still trying to stick his hands OUT of my lady bits, which is still closed for exit. And a few times a day he’ll do something that makes me go, “OOH! “ or “OUCH!” or “AAAAHH (sound of breath catching on my throat).” Husband had a stern talk with him last night about not beating-up Mommy, so he’s been a bit calmer today.
The nursery is complete! No more projects. No more painting. No more planning (what am I to do with my time?!?!). No more spending money, HOLLER!! I had a shower this weekend, so there’s stuff in the nursery too. It no longer looks like it’s staged for a magazine cover. It looks READY. And I peak in there every morning before work
Daddy is coming to visit! I just found-out that my dad is planning to visit after L Bean is born for a few days. A few DAYS! A day a meetings will be scheduled in there somewhere, but the other days will be spent hanging out with his grandson. SWOON. My day was made when I heard this news.
I’m tired. Doc wasn’t kidding when he said that Energized Pregnant Betsy would give-way to Exhausted Pregnant Betsy around this time in the pregnancy. Lots of naps have been had.
We're getting REALLY excited. With each day that passes, the reality of what's going to happen (soon) sets-in a little deeper. I had a baby shower this weekend that we'd been talking about for months. Kerry and Caroline came for a visit, which we'd been talking about for months. The nursery that we'd been working on for months is completed. The rooms in our house are painted. The kitchen is organized. There are strollers in our dining room. A carseat on the dining room table. The only thing left to do is to refinish the cradle (it's about 25% complete). Oh, and have this baby. I was talking to my Dad yesterday, and I said something along the lines of, "I can't believe this weekend has come and gone. We talked about it for so long, and now it's over." To which he said, "Yeah, now all you have to do is have this kid!" Wow. Just wow. He's so right. We've planned and prepped. Now there's just one thing left to do - have a baby. And let me tell you, we are SO ready to have this baby. We took a newborn class last night (just a quick 2.5 hour class), and each couple was given a baby doll to use (for diapering, bathing, feeding, holding, etc.). I kept peaking at Husband, and he would be holding the doll. Just holding it (it was a her - we were a little bummed). I couldn't help but smile. He's going to be the best dad. And I think together we're going to be great parents. This past 35 weeks have been the fastest and best of our lives. But I bet it won't even compare to the next few months.
Happy 33 Weeks, L Bean!
Each week seems to pass more quickly than the last - it's a little alarming. Did you know, that I am three(ish) weeks away from the point where my doctor probably wouldn't intervene if I go into labor? THREE WEEKS. Dude, I'm so not ready to go into labor. I mean, that's going to hurt. I've been reading birth stories, and the women keep using the same description of how it feels - like the upper half of your body is trying to rip away from the lower half. Um, PASS. But it's too late now!
What's new this week?
- My feet hurt. The pain/soreness is mainly situated in my heels. My center of gravity is completely tipped towards the front, so I naturally lean-back on my heels to counter-balance (and prevent face dives). The result? Super sore heals. And they're starting to swell a little, so all of my work shoes are tight. I've transitioned to sandals, which isn't work appropriate, but I like to think that I have a good excuse.
- My engagement ring has a new home. In a drawer. We went to an outdoor concert this past Friday night, and it was HOT. I had both rings on, but desperately wanted them OFF my finger by the end of the night. My wedding band is thin, so it doesn't bother me. But I do miss the combo.
- I've started to pull-together my hospital bag. The list has been sitting in excel for awhile now, but I've actually started purchasing the items. My mom and I went shopping a couple weeks ago, and we found awesome pjs and a lightweight robe. The lollipops and gum are in my closet. This weekend I'm going to start pulling together the items that I don't use often and putting them in a corner of my closet. I've decided that I'm going to have a "just in case I need something more" pile. It'll save Josh some guesswork if he has to run home for more items.
- I'm not sleeping well. During the middle months I was sleeping fairly consistently, only waking-up twice a night (which is AMAZING compared to six times a night during the first trimester). Well, I've starting to wake-up more. And we all know why I'm waking up. I have to pee. I'm able to get comfortable and fall asleep quickly, but the damage has already been done.
- I feel L Bean super high in my belly. It seems like he hovered at belly button level for WEEKS. And then overnight he was an inch past my belly button. Now I can feel him a solid four inches above my belly button, especially when he does a full body stretch (you know, when tries to extend his arms OUT of my lady bits and kicks his feet into my throat).
- I could use third trimester maternity clothes. All of my clothes are tighter. But I'm holding out. It doesn't make sense to buy any more clothes.
- We have ONE project left in L Bean's room. Just one! And it's an easy one.
- I had to rock myself out of the seated position on the couch. Yes, it's just as funny/pitiful as you're picturing it to be.
- What if he's not a Liam? This new thought has crept into my brain. What if he comes-out and he's not a Liam? Josh has assured me that he will be, which is good. Considering his name is already on the wall.
- It still hasn't clicked. I still don't think it's clicked that there's actually a baby in my belly. I scrutinze a newborn diaper and then hold it against my stomach - my brain fights the idea that there's something in there that will be big enough to wear it.
- We have a stroller in our dining room. Husband's brother and his wife won't make it to our baby shower (but they will make it up to VA shortly after L Bean is born!), so they sent our shower gift early. Our stroller! HOLLER. Of course Josh immediately got busy putting it together. And of course I took it for a spin around the downstairs. Who wants to go with me to the park in the middle of the workday in October for a walk?!?!
- Identity crisis. Before I got pregnant, I was just Betsy. Tall, skinny, Betsy. And then I got pregnant. And I was Preggo Betsy (thanks, Sarah). Still tall, now thickening, Betsy. If I'm completely honest, I admit that the transition was interesting and hard at times. Now I'm used to Preggo Betsy. Just in time for me to be Mom Betsy. I'm going to miss Preggo Betsy, there's no doubt about that. Pregnancy has been amazing. I've only had two geniuely uncomfortable days in 8+ months of pregnancy. And then I'll be Working Mom Betsy. Luckily I'll have a kick-butt kid to help ease the transition.
We had yet another doc appointment yesterday. My mom came with us. She was really excited to see Doc (Doc was my Aunt Amy's doctor, sot he whole family knows him well). Doc did a quickie ultrasound to see how our little man is looking. Good, strong heartbeat. His head, belly ("of the beast"), and legs are measuring about a week ahead. His estimated weight is 5 lbs 10 oz. According to babycenter.com a 33 week-old baby weighs "a little over 4 pounds." So, um, I'm growing a sumo wrestler (and my lady bits quiver). We got to peep his face in 3D. Um, cutie! Well, what we could see of his face looked cute. He had his hand in his mouth. Doc pushed on my stomach to get him to move. I believe Doc said, "Oh, that REALLY pissed him off (to which I was thinking, "No, duh, Doc. I could literally FEEL his disdain for you)." L Bean completely turned away and hid. Hid everything. Looks like someone is going to be stubborn like their Momma (Lord, help us). Doc pushed on my belly again, but L Bean wasn't having any of it. I guess he wants his face to be a total surprise come D Day. Husband and I keep talking about how fun it''ll be to see who he resembles. Because, I don't know if you knew this, but this kid is half ME and half HIM. Crazy, right!
What's new this week?
- My feet hurt. The pain/soreness is mainly situated in my heels. My center of gravity is completely tipped towards the front, so I naturally lean-back on my heels to counter-balance (and prevent face dives). The result? Super sore heals. And they're starting to swell a little, so all of my work shoes are tight. I've transitioned to sandals, which isn't work appropriate, but I like to think that I have a good excuse.
- My engagement ring has a new home. In a drawer. We went to an outdoor concert this past Friday night, and it was HOT. I had both rings on, but desperately wanted them OFF my finger by the end of the night. My wedding band is thin, so it doesn't bother me. But I do miss the combo.
- I've started to pull-together my hospital bag. The list has been sitting in excel for awhile now, but I've actually started purchasing the items. My mom and I went shopping a couple weeks ago, and we found awesome pjs and a lightweight robe. The lollipops and gum are in my closet. This weekend I'm going to start pulling together the items that I don't use often and putting them in a corner of my closet. I've decided that I'm going to have a "just in case I need something more" pile. It'll save Josh some guesswork if he has to run home for more items.
- I'm not sleeping well. During the middle months I was sleeping fairly consistently, only waking-up twice a night (which is AMAZING compared to six times a night during the first trimester). Well, I've starting to wake-up more. And we all know why I'm waking up. I have to pee. I'm able to get comfortable and fall asleep quickly, but the damage has already been done.
- I feel L Bean super high in my belly. It seems like he hovered at belly button level for WEEKS. And then overnight he was an inch past my belly button. Now I can feel him a solid four inches above my belly button, especially when he does a full body stretch (you know, when tries to extend his arms OUT of my lady bits and kicks his feet into my throat).
- I could use third trimester maternity clothes. All of my clothes are tighter. But I'm holding out. It doesn't make sense to buy any more clothes.
- We have ONE project left in L Bean's room. Just one! And it's an easy one.
- I had to rock myself out of the seated position on the couch. Yes, it's just as funny/pitiful as you're picturing it to be.
- What if he's not a Liam? This new thought has crept into my brain. What if he comes-out and he's not a Liam? Josh has assured me that he will be, which is good. Considering his name is already on the wall.
- It still hasn't clicked. I still don't think it's clicked that there's actually a baby in my belly. I scrutinze a newborn diaper and then hold it against my stomach - my brain fights the idea that there's something in there that will be big enough to wear it.
- We have a stroller in our dining room. Husband's brother and his wife won't make it to our baby shower (but they will make it up to VA shortly after L Bean is born!), so they sent our shower gift early. Our stroller! HOLLER. Of course Josh immediately got busy putting it together. And of course I took it for a spin around the downstairs. Who wants to go with me to the park in the middle of the workday in October for a walk?!?!
- Identity crisis. Before I got pregnant, I was just Betsy. Tall, skinny, Betsy. And then I got pregnant. And I was Preggo Betsy (thanks, Sarah). Still tall, now thickening, Betsy. If I'm completely honest, I admit that the transition was interesting and hard at times. Now I'm used to Preggo Betsy. Just in time for me to be Mom Betsy. I'm going to miss Preggo Betsy, there's no doubt about that. Pregnancy has been amazing. I've only had two geniuely uncomfortable days in 8+ months of pregnancy. And then I'll be Working Mom Betsy. Luckily I'll have a kick-butt kid to help ease the transition.
We had yet another doc appointment yesterday. My mom came with us. She was really excited to see Doc (Doc was my Aunt Amy's doctor, sot he whole family knows him well). Doc did a quickie ultrasound to see how our little man is looking. Good, strong heartbeat. His head, belly ("of the beast"), and legs are measuring about a week ahead. His estimated weight is 5 lbs 10 oz. According to babycenter.com a 33 week-old baby weighs "a little over 4 pounds." So, um, I'm growing a sumo wrestler (and my lady bits quiver). We got to peep his face in 3D. Um, cutie! Well, what we could see of his face looked cute. He had his hand in his mouth. Doc pushed on my stomach to get him to move. I believe Doc said, "Oh, that REALLY pissed him off (to which I was thinking, "No, duh, Doc. I could literally FEEL his disdain for you)." L Bean completely turned away and hid. Hid everything. Looks like someone is going to be stubborn like their Momma (Lord, help us). Doc pushed on my belly again, but L Bean wasn't having any of it. I guess he wants his face to be a total surprise come D Day. Husband and I keep talking about how fun it''ll be to see who he resembles. Because, I don't know if you knew this, but this kid is half ME and half HIM. Crazy, right!
Gettin' it done
We had another busy weekend full of (mostly) baby related stuff. Warning: This is another long weekend update post with lots of pictures and random baking tips thrown-in the middle.
Friday:
We went to a Dave Matthews concert at Nationals Stadium in Washington, DC with my brother and his lovely wife. It was awesome. HOT, but awesome. It was still in the 90s at 9:00 PM. Josh and I spent almost $30 on water alone. We got the tickets months and months ago, and weren't sure how it would go being 32 weeks pregnant. But it was a piece of cake. Really. And there were a handful of other preggos there.
Saturday:
I was WORTHLESS for much of the day due to a late bedtime Friday night and a still early rise Saturday morning (and the concert/heat themselves). But Husband, on the other hand, was productive. While I laid in bed/on the couch/lazily putzed around the house cleaning, Husband got to work on the magnetic chalkboard in L Bean's room. We've been planning this project for a while now. Remember that blue square on the wall from a picture in a previous post? It's more than a blue square now!
Husband put a few (okay, like six or seven) coats of magnetic paint down. And then he put two coats of chalkboard paint down. He cut, painted, and built the frame to look like our windows.
Magnetic paint
Painting the trim in the 100+ degree heat.
Doing something important that I asked about but don't remember his reason. BEST WIFE EVER!
He even cut-out a groove for the chalk!
I made the magnets months ago. I heart Michael's. We LOVE the finished product.
During the day, I baked more chocolate chip cookies. These cookies are my claim to fame. A guy Husband works with has offered to pay me to make him a full batch. What do I do that's special? These are the five cookie baking rules that I swear by (if you care):
(1) You're baking, so follow the directions EXACTLY. Measure and level-off everything. You can eyeball dinner, but you cannot eye ball cookies. If the recipe tells you to mix for three minutes on high, then set the micro timer and mix for three minutes on high. If it tells you to mix the dry ingredients then mix the wet ingredients, DO IT.
(2) Use a good cookie sheet. Don't even dream of using a dark, non-stick one. That's cookie suicide #1 (unless you prefer your cookies all around crispidy crunchidy). We got our cookie sheets from a restaurant supply store for $10 each. Crate and Barrel sells them for $30 each. The bottom has two layers and form a bubble in between.
(3) Use three cookie sheets. Cookie suicide #2 - putting raw cookie dough on an already hot cookie sheet and throwing it in the oven. The cookie sheets need to be room temperature each time you put the cookie dough down. I rotate three cookie sheets. That third sheet has plenty of time to cool-off by the time you need it (just don't leave it sitting on the stove, above the oven).
(4) Refrigerate your cookie dough in between batches.
(5) Bake for less time than the recipe calls for. And then set the timer for 30 second increments and keep an eye on the cookies for the last minute or so. Take the cookies out just BEFORE they've reached perfect doneness. They will continue to cook as they sit on the cookie sheet for a couple minutes before they're transferred to drying racks.
And what do you do with brown bananas?
Bake banana bread! I did banana bread muffins for ease of consumption. SO YUMMY.
Sunday:
I cleaned more. Did laundry. We cleared much of the furniture off the carpet and vacuumed. Husband rented a carpet cleaner from Lowe's and got to work on the carpets.
Fiona and Henrik watched-on from the stairs.
They NEEDED it. Renting the cleaner isn't very expensive, and it makes a huge difference. Especially when you have lots of pets. Add a kid to the mix? Yikes!
We went grocery shopping. Husband trimmed the front hedges
He also cut the grass and trimmed (Monday after work). I supplied the water and encouragement (two things I have gotten VERY good at these past few months).
The highlight of the weekend? I burned my stomach on a cookie sheet. 2nd degree burn. My standard at home pregnancy attire is a tank top and pj pants. It was warm in the kitchen, so I had the tank top pulled-up and my stomach out for ventilation (don't laugh. You've either (a) been pregnant before and done it yourself or (b) you'll do it when you're pregnant. Trust me). I momentarily forgot I had a protruding belly, and WHAM! SEAR! PANIC!
I ran outside to show Husband and complain about how much it hurt and how stupid I am. He loved on me and was a Sympathetic Super Husband. And then it dawned on him that we were having our maternity session with our wedding photographer in three days. He brought this to my attention, and then IMMEDIATELY regretted it. I made some sort of whining noise and then ran inside to commence Cry Fest. After cleaning the paint off his hands, he ran inside after me. There I was BAWLING while trying to spoon banana bread mixture into a muffin pan (which, btw, was very hard to do because I couldn't see ANYTHING through the tears). He coddled and loved on me, assuring me that Don could Photoshop the mark, and telling me not to cry. To which I replied, "I'M PREGNANT. CRYING IS WHAT I DOOOOO (sob, sniff, sob, snot bubble)." I eventually realized that he was right and stopped crying. But dude! That burn still HURT.
I accidently broke the blister right after it happened, which made the burn snot and goop. I'm wearing an awesome gigantic band-aid as I write this. As if I wasn't sexy enough already.
We only have one more nursery project to finish, and then we are DONE. Which is awesome and sad at the same time. We've had so much fun pulling the nursery together. We've bonded over the experience, and get this - we didn't fight. NOT ONCE. I mostly attribute this to being married to the nicest, most loving and understanding man on the PLANET. I'll post final pictures soon.
Oh, and we gave Fiona a bath. C-U-T-E.
I have ankles!
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.
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.
Countdown: 9 Weeks to Baby
Last night I slept for about five hours. It was my first night of discomfort from having a growing baby in my belly (so I guess I should say that I’ve been pretty blessed). First he got the hiccups. Then he got annoyed by his hiccups and started thrashing. Then he just wouldn’t settle down. I slept from midnight to 5:00 am (we went to bed at 10:00). I was COMPLETELY awake at 5:00 am. I laid there and listened to Fiona breath, then lick her cone, scratch at her cone, then breath some more. The previous night, the area on F’s jaw where Phantom Snake rocked our (my) world leaked a big puddle onto a pillow. It used to be filled with very hard, solid gunk, which gave-way to soft, gooey gunk. I compare it to a blister that gets so full that the slightest bit of pressure and splat! The spot doesn’t seem hurt her, I think it’s just itchy and annoying. I mean, how would YOU like it if you had a bump the size of a walnut on your cheek? Oh, and you weigh 10 pounds, so that walnut is ginormous in comparison to you. Anyway, I got up to check if she was leaking again (like a stupid blister, it filled back-up some). And then I had to pee. And by now Josh is getting restless and thrashing to get comfortable again. I manage to fall back asleep until the alarm clock blasts a song that goes, “PUT ME OUT OF MY MISSSERRRYYYY” at 6:00 am. How appropriate.
I am officially very pregnant because I go to the doctor every two weeks now. I have an appointment this Friday, and I find myself thinking, “Wait, I just had one of these.” Five weeks from now, I go to ONCE A WEEK. Oh, and around that time Doc will be sticking his arm up my who-ha. So psyched.
Did you know what women usually gain a pound a week in the last trimester (about half of which is baby putting on that adorable chub)? I haven’t discussed this in blogverse yet, but I’ve packed-on some poundage. I was five pounds over my usual when I got pregnant (stupid holidays), and then it was busy season (hello eating, sympathy/stress eating, no time to exercise, and more general eating). I’ve stopped looking at the scale, and I’ve requested that Mr. H not look; however, he deliberately disobeys each time, and then I end-up asking him about the damage anyway. As of my last appointment, I’d gained 33 pounds. I’ve never seen the scale so high in my life. I’m 20 pounds heavier than I’ve ever been. I know, I’m PREGNANT. It’s still alarming to see the numbers. So, if you figure-out a pound a week for 13(ish) weeks… I cry.
It seems like it took forever for my uterus to finally pass the height of my belly button, but now it’s flown past it. It won’t be long now until L Bean is sticking his feet in my ribs. He's already trying to stick an arm out of me for ventilation.
I have a faint linea negra forming below my belly button. I first noticed it a couple weeks ago. No stretch marks (PLEASE stay that way). My belly button is still hanging tough as an inny, but I’m not sure how much longer it can hold-out. It looks like the timer could pop any day now.
I was in the kitchen at work getting coffee this morning (yes, I drink a cup of coffee a day. Yes, it is allowed. No, I don’t care what you have to say about it), when someone asked, “When is the big day?” To which I reply, “Mid-September.” I usually don’t tell work people September 14th because that’s the day before a big deadline, and I still feel a little guilty about it. He replies, “Hmmm, September, huh? I don’t knoooow. I’m not sure you’re going to make it that far!” Okay, what does that MEAN? Does my belly really look THAT big? I assure you that it’s not. I have serious belly envy of the women in my birth class. We’re all around the same due date, and they’re bellies would whoop my belly in a fist fight. Are you referring to my shelf of a butt or my luscious thighs? If so they don’t appreciate being talked about as if they’re not in the room.
If I hear, “I bet you’re LOVING this heat!” or “I bet you’re just DYING in this heat!” or “I bet you’re just MISERABLE in this heat!” one more time, heads are going to roll.
Funny story: At the beginning of my pregnancy, my mom told me about the benefits of rubbing something rough on your nipples to shape-them-up for the abuse they’ll take. A rough terry cloth towel will due. She did this and had no discomfort breast feeding. Her friends did not do this and were miserable (I’m paraphrasing here). She calls me a few weeks ago and leaves this message on my cell phone: Have you been rubbing something rough on your niiiipples?!?! Something about it really will help. Love you, talk to you later, bye. I just about peed myself. Aren’t moms the best?
I am officially very pregnant because I go to the doctor every two weeks now. I have an appointment this Friday, and I find myself thinking, “Wait, I just had one of these.” Five weeks from now, I go to ONCE A WEEK. Oh, and around that time Doc will be sticking his arm up my who-ha. So psyched.
Did you know what women usually gain a pound a week in the last trimester (about half of which is baby putting on that adorable chub)? I haven’t discussed this in blogverse yet, but I’ve packed-on some poundage. I was five pounds over my usual when I got pregnant (stupid holidays), and then it was busy season (hello eating, sympathy/stress eating, no time to exercise, and more general eating). I’ve stopped looking at the scale, and I’ve requested that Mr. H not look; however, he deliberately disobeys each time, and then I end-up asking him about the damage anyway. As of my last appointment, I’d gained 33 pounds. I’ve never seen the scale so high in my life. I’m 20 pounds heavier than I’ve ever been. I know, I’m PREGNANT. It’s still alarming to see the numbers. So, if you figure-out a pound a week for 13(ish) weeks… I cry.
It seems like it took forever for my uterus to finally pass the height of my belly button, but now it’s flown past it. It won’t be long now until L Bean is sticking his feet in my ribs. He's already trying to stick an arm out of me for ventilation.
I have a faint linea negra forming below my belly button. I first noticed it a couple weeks ago. No stretch marks (PLEASE stay that way). My belly button is still hanging tough as an inny, but I’m not sure how much longer it can hold-out. It looks like the timer could pop any day now.
I was in the kitchen at work getting coffee this morning (yes, I drink a cup of coffee a day. Yes, it is allowed. No, I don’t care what you have to say about it), when someone asked, “When is the big day?” To which I reply, “Mid-September.” I usually don’t tell work people September 14th because that’s the day before a big deadline, and I still feel a little guilty about it. He replies, “Hmmm, September, huh? I don’t knoooow. I’m not sure you’re going to make it that far!” Okay, what does that MEAN? Does my belly really look THAT big? I assure you that it’s not. I have serious belly envy of the women in my birth class. We’re all around the same due date, and they’re bellies would whoop my belly in a fist fight. Are you referring to my shelf of a butt or my luscious thighs? If so they don’t appreciate being talked about as if they’re not in the room.
If I hear, “I bet you’re LOVING this heat!” or “I bet you’re just DYING in this heat!” or “I bet you’re just MISERABLE in this heat!” one more time, heads are going to roll.
Funny story: At the beginning of my pregnancy, my mom told me about the benefits of rubbing something rough on your nipples to shape-them-up for the abuse they’ll take. A rough terry cloth towel will due. She did this and had no discomfort breast feeding. Her friends did not do this and were miserable (I’m paraphrasing here). She calls me a few weeks ago and leaves this message on my cell phone: Have you been rubbing something rough on your niiiipples?!?! Something about it really will help. Love you, talk to you later, bye. I just about peed myself. Aren’t moms the best?
Fiona Update and Actual Baby Stuff
I’m going to actually write about something baby-related today, after I update you on Fiona’s condition, of course.
She’s spending the day with her Auntie Sarah, who generously offered to watch/love Fiona for the day. We will not doubt get-back a very sleepy Fiona this evening, which means she’ll sleep through the night (and so will I). I received the cutest picture of F sitting atop her pillow throne on the couch while Sarah’s dog Talbot delivers her very best stank eye. F and T are typical female-dominant characters, so it’s always interesting to see who wins. Usually it’s Talbot since her morning poop weighs more than Fiona, but I have a feeling F may be today’s champion. You know, it’s the cone, the icky eyes, and that sad face that only an ailing 10 pound dog can deliver. Today, the game is mental.
Okay, now on to baby stuff. You know, the reason I created this blog in the first place.
We had an appointment with Doc last Friday morning. The plan was the do the usual and then do a 3-D (or is it 4-D?) ultrasound. Being the stubborn kid that he is (he’s already taking after his mother; if that’s the case, we are in TROUBLE), he kept his face covered the whole time. Jerk. He’s not shy about his little boy bits, but he’s apparently not ready to flash us his mug.
Back-up. What’s “the usual?” It consists of: (1) Pee in a cup. (2) Get weighed (sad face). Every time I ask Mr. H very nicely to please not look. Every time he looks. Best husband ever. (3) Blood pressure. (4) How are you feeling? (5) Any questions? (6) Wanna see your baby! HECK YES! Quickie ultrasound. (7) Set-up next appointment. (8) Pee in the bathroom in the hallway because it’s been 10+ minutes at this point.
When the nurse took my blood pressure, we were discussing something that got me excited (it had something to do with boobs, that’s all I’m going to tell you), and my BP was higher than usual. She came back at the end of the appointment to re-take. Back to normal. Phew. I was a little nervous when she took my BP the second time, so I was worried it would be high again. High BP at this point is an eye-brow raiser, and I like Doc’s eye-brows right where they are, thank you.
Doc switched-back to the regular ultrasound, and he took some measurements. It was a toss-up between almost vomiting and almost passing out when Doc measured his head. On the day of the appointment, I was 29 weeks, four days. L Bean’s head measured 33 weeks, 4 days (and my lady bits shudder). Doc measured other things like “the belly of the beast” and his spine, which both measured just a little big. Doc estimated his weight to be 3 pounds, 9 ounces. The caveat with ultrasound weight estimates – they’re always wrong. Let’s say the estimates are +/- 8 ounces (or a half pound). General estimates for a baby at 29 weeks is about 2 and a half pounds. So he’s measuring a little big all around. No surprise here (have I mentioned before that Josh was 8 pounds FOUR WEEKS EARLY? And he’s also 6’4”. Add that to my 5’9’ and 7 pounds, 8 ounces two weeks early). Keep-on growing, kiddo! Just remember that you have (yes, I am putting my foot down for the first time as your mother) to exit via my vajayjay, so don’t go too crazy.
I also asked what position L Bean was in because sometimes it literally feels like he’s laying horizontally. He’s head-down, and I’ve politely asking him to stay that way. So what I thought was his head pushing out against my belly button must be his butt. He’s not kicking my bladder, he’s punching it. And he’s not trying to stick a foot out of my vagina, he just has sweaty balms that need some air.
We started our childbirth class last week. Mr. H almost fell asleep during the first hour, as the Nurse Lady went through the class syllabus in DETAIL and depicted my cervix as a budding rose and contractions like waves in an ocean. Mr. H got to practice relaxation/touch techniques on me for 15+ minutes. Meaning, I got a 15+ minute massage without having to ask. SCORE. His night was made when Nurse Lady told us to switch places, and Mr. H got a 5 minutes rub down of his own. We’ve been instructed to bring loads of pillows and two towels to tomorrow’s class. As long as Nurse Lady doesn’t have me hee-hee-hoooooing, we’ll be good. Oh, and we get to watch the video. You know, THAT video. I can’t wait for the awkward, heavy silence that will undoubtedly overtake the class (all ten of us). I’m going to bring my camera tomorrow. Hopefully I can sneak a few pictures of the experience.
She’s spending the day with her Auntie Sarah, who generously offered to watch/love Fiona for the day. We will not doubt get-back a very sleepy Fiona this evening, which means she’ll sleep through the night (and so will I). I received the cutest picture of F sitting atop her pillow throne on the couch while Sarah’s dog Talbot delivers her very best stank eye. F and T are typical female-dominant characters, so it’s always interesting to see who wins. Usually it’s Talbot since her morning poop weighs more than Fiona, but I have a feeling F may be today’s champion. You know, it’s the cone, the icky eyes, and that sad face that only an ailing 10 pound dog can deliver. Today, the game is mental.
Okay, now on to baby stuff. You know, the reason I created this blog in the first place.
We had an appointment with Doc last Friday morning. The plan was the do the usual and then do a 3-D (or is it 4-D?) ultrasound. Being the stubborn kid that he is (he’s already taking after his mother; if that’s the case, we are in TROUBLE), he kept his face covered the whole time. Jerk. He’s not shy about his little boy bits, but he’s apparently not ready to flash us his mug.
Back-up. What’s “the usual?” It consists of: (1) Pee in a cup. (2) Get weighed (sad face). Every time I ask Mr. H very nicely to please not look. Every time he looks. Best husband ever. (3) Blood pressure. (4) How are you feeling? (5) Any questions? (6) Wanna see your baby! HECK YES! Quickie ultrasound. (7) Set-up next appointment. (8) Pee in the bathroom in the hallway because it’s been 10+ minutes at this point.
When the nurse took my blood pressure, we were discussing something that got me excited (it had something to do with boobs, that’s all I’m going to tell you), and my BP was higher than usual. She came back at the end of the appointment to re-take. Back to normal. Phew. I was a little nervous when she took my BP the second time, so I was worried it would be high again. High BP at this point is an eye-brow raiser, and I like Doc’s eye-brows right where they are, thank you.
Doc switched-back to the regular ultrasound, and he took some measurements. It was a toss-up between almost vomiting and almost passing out when Doc measured his head. On the day of the appointment, I was 29 weeks, four days. L Bean’s head measured 33 weeks, 4 days (and my lady bits shudder). Doc measured other things like “the belly of the beast” and his spine, which both measured just a little big. Doc estimated his weight to be 3 pounds, 9 ounces. The caveat with ultrasound weight estimates – they’re always wrong. Let’s say the estimates are +/- 8 ounces (or a half pound). General estimates for a baby at 29 weeks is about 2 and a half pounds. So he’s measuring a little big all around. No surprise here (have I mentioned before that Josh was 8 pounds FOUR WEEKS EARLY? And he’s also 6’4”. Add that to my 5’9’ and 7 pounds, 8 ounces two weeks early). Keep-on growing, kiddo! Just remember that you have (yes, I am putting my foot down for the first time as your mother) to exit via my vajayjay, so don’t go too crazy.
I also asked what position L Bean was in because sometimes it literally feels like he’s laying horizontally. He’s head-down, and I’ve politely asking him to stay that way. So what I thought was his head pushing out against my belly button must be his butt. He’s not kicking my bladder, he’s punching it. And he’s not trying to stick a foot out of my vagina, he just has sweaty balms that need some air.
We started our childbirth class last week. Mr. H almost fell asleep during the first hour, as the Nurse Lady went through the class syllabus in DETAIL and depicted my cervix as a budding rose and contractions like waves in an ocean. Mr. H got to practice relaxation/touch techniques on me for 15+ minutes. Meaning, I got a 15+ minute massage without having to ask. SCORE. His night was made when Nurse Lady told us to switch places, and Mr. H got a 5 minutes rub down of his own. We’ve been instructed to bring loads of pillows and two towels to tomorrow’s class. As long as Nurse Lady doesn’t have me hee-hee-hoooooing, we’ll be good. Oh, and we get to watch the video. You know, THAT video. I can’t wait for the awkward, heavy silence that will undoubtedly overtake the class (all ten of us). I’m going to bring my camera tomorrow. Hopefully I can sneak a few pictures of the experience.
Sometimes I feel like a caged animal.
Sometimes I feel like a caged animal. I walk past people at work (or on the street or in a store), and I feel scrutinized. First, eyes fall to my belly as assessments of growth take place. Second, eyes rise to my chest, and I can literally see the brains processing, “Well THOSE have certainly gotten bigger.” I just hope the third isn’t a turned head as I walk away assessing other growth that’s taken place. I’m a private person. I prefer to keep my private life private, unless I decide to let you in. Currently, my body is giving-away my secrets! Drat, Body. What are you THINKING?! It would be really awesome if, for the first time in months, people would meet my EYES first. After that, feel free to make your assessments. At least you made me feel human for .389 seconds. Or, if you can’t manage that, learn to be more covert with your stares because I CAN SEE YOU.
You know what else is uncomfortable lately? Sleeping. Yes, the time has arrived where falling and staying asleep takes a lot of work and prayer. However, I’m not waking-up as often as I did in first trimester (PHEW). It’s tough to find a position where all parts of me are comfortable. That first night of back or stomach sleep will be so delicious.
Happy third trimester, L Bean! I oscillate between wishing the weeks away because I’m so ready to meet him and asking him to stay-in longer because I’m so not ready. We had a mini-road trip yesterday (we went to Ikea!). On the way home, Mr. H said, “I find myself wishing he’d get here already because I just want to hold him, but I feel like we should probably enjoy these last couple months because it won’t be just us for at least 18 years.” GULP. Well said, Husband. I can’t pin-point the current source of my anxiety and nerves. I think it’s mostly money. Babies are expensive. And we’re the first of our friends to have kids, so friendships are changing and will change. I want to make some mommy friends, but I’m not the best at making new friends. But we also have so much to look forward to. Yesterday, on that very same road trip, we talked about what we want to do next year for Mother’s and Father’s Days. Picnics at Maymont. Trips to the Metro Zoo. Kiddie pool in the back yard. And now when I walk into the nursery I can almost picture myself sitting in the glider with L Bean in my arms. Almost. It’s still hard to wrap my head around the fact that I’m going to be a mom. Most days, I still feel 16.
Latest milestone? Hiccups! I noticed them for the first time two weeks ago in a training session at work, and I’ve felt them every day since. Now I feel them multiple times during the day (like right now and in the middle of the night last night). They last 5 to 10 minutes. I can tell when he gets annoyed by them because he’ll start to twist and thrash.
I have a funny aside to share: Occasionally it literally feels like L Bean is trying to stick a foot out of my vagina. A few days ago, L Bean made such a maneuver, and I made some sort of heavy breathing or grunting noise that got Josh’s attention. He asked if everything was okay, and I explained what it felt like his son was trying to do with his foot. He simply replied, “Maybe he’s hot. You know how you stick your foot out of the covers at night when you’re hot? Maybe he just needs some air.” It makes sense. I know that I’m hot (ALL OF THE TIME), so L Bean must be hot too. Thanks for your infinite wisdom, Mr. H.
Ikea update coming soon! I also ordered a book that I am super excited about and can’t wait to share.
You know what else is uncomfortable lately? Sleeping. Yes, the time has arrived where falling and staying asleep takes a lot of work and prayer. However, I’m not waking-up as often as I did in first trimester (PHEW). It’s tough to find a position where all parts of me are comfortable. That first night of back or stomach sleep will be so delicious.
Happy third trimester, L Bean! I oscillate between wishing the weeks away because I’m so ready to meet him and asking him to stay-in longer because I’m so not ready. We had a mini-road trip yesterday (we went to Ikea!). On the way home, Mr. H said, “I find myself wishing he’d get here already because I just want to hold him, but I feel like we should probably enjoy these last couple months because it won’t be just us for at least 18 years.” GULP. Well said, Husband. I can’t pin-point the current source of my anxiety and nerves. I think it’s mostly money. Babies are expensive. And we’re the first of our friends to have kids, so friendships are changing and will change. I want to make some mommy friends, but I’m not the best at making new friends. But we also have so much to look forward to. Yesterday, on that very same road trip, we talked about what we want to do next year for Mother’s and Father’s Days. Picnics at Maymont. Trips to the Metro Zoo. Kiddie pool in the back yard. And now when I walk into the nursery I can almost picture myself sitting in the glider with L Bean in my arms. Almost. It’s still hard to wrap my head around the fact that I’m going to be a mom. Most days, I still feel 16.
Latest milestone? Hiccups! I noticed them for the first time two weeks ago in a training session at work, and I’ve felt them every day since. Now I feel them multiple times during the day (like right now and in the middle of the night last night). They last 5 to 10 minutes. I can tell when he gets annoyed by them because he’ll start to twist and thrash.
I have a funny aside to share: Occasionally it literally feels like L Bean is trying to stick a foot out of my vagina. A few days ago, L Bean made such a maneuver, and I made some sort of heavy breathing or grunting noise that got Josh’s attention. He asked if everything was okay, and I explained what it felt like his son was trying to do with his foot. He simply replied, “Maybe he’s hot. You know how you stick your foot out of the covers at night when you’re hot? Maybe he just needs some air.” It makes sense. I know that I’m hot (ALL OF THE TIME), so L Bean must be hot too. Thanks for your infinite wisdom, Mr. H.
Ikea update coming soon! I also ordered a book that I am super excited about and can’t wait to share.
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