10 Weeks, 3 Days

I promise I'll get better about updating this blog/book as the weeks progress.
I'm hoping we're getting ready to turn an important corner, one in which I will be able to return to the world, one in which there isn't even a hint of nausea, DEFINITELY no vomiting, and where I pop out of bed in the mornings once again excited to greet the day.

Okay, maybe that was a bit much :) 
Modification:
Where I can at least drag myself out of bed and can make it through the day minus three naps.
Still DEFINITELY no vomit.

The days are hit or miss for me right now which honestly seems to be progress from the point where every day is just yuck.
The nausea is still bad and while the vomiting is dwindling down, it can't happen disappear soon enough.
It seems that just when I think it's gone for good, it comes back with a vengence.

Perhaps you're wondering if this is how all of my pregnancies were and the answer is a resounding "no".
With Chas, I was hit hardest with fatigue--a fatigue so thorough to the bone that I still remember it clearly.
Rhyse gave me more trouble than that and it was first with him that the morning sickness really took hold.  But I probably actually only truly got sick a dozen or so times.
Greer started off rough but goes down in history as my most fantastic pregnancy.  Once I passed the vomiting part, I felt AMAZING.  She just mixed with me so well.  I actually felt energized when I was carrying her--often times I commented that I felt better than normal.
I didn't get that lucky twice in a row though because as great as she made me feel, that's how much Creux took from me.  My morning sickness was bad, really bad, (but no where NEAR holding a candle to you, my love) and I felt completely drained for the duration of his pregnancy.  When he came out at nearly a whopping nine pounds (nine pounds IS whopping for a gal my size) I wasn't a bit surprised.  He'd been sucking the life right out of me while turning himself into a sausage!

You, I am sorry to say, have not been easy so far and THAT is an understatement.  With you, it seems to be worst case senario sickness-wise though I am praying (begging, pleading, bargaining) that we are close to that corner turn.  It usually happens for me around week 11 or 12.  We are just days away from week 11 and I'm really only doing marginally better so I'm just closing my eyes and wishing hard for week 12.  I can hang in there for another week and a half. (Can't I?)

Last week was particularly difficult which again had me ignoring this blog space.  It's easier for me to write about how bad things are in the past tense than it is for me to sit in the moment and re-live it a bit.  The last time I did that, I cried the whole time I wrote and that's not the way I want to remember writing to you.  And I promise that these darn posts will get cheerier and at some point you will realize that I have quite a good sense of humor but I know it's not shining through currently.  I laughed the other day for the first time in a long time and felt like I'd pulled a stomach muscle. It's been THAT long since I've truly enjoyed myself.

We had a bout of company all week long and while it was terrific fun, it was stressful for me.  Up until their arrival, I had parked my duff on the couch for hours and hours on end and suddenly, I couldn't lounge like that anymore though I desperately wanted to.  This house was full of love and laughter but it was such bad timing for me that I really couldn't and didn't partake in the fun.  I tried to rally and I did manage to do that often but in the end, the additional stress, on top of the sickness, on top of the fast approaching holiday, did me in.  I've realized that I am not currently able to cope with stress in the most...reasonable...of ways right now. 
Instead, I cry.
Actually, I weep and I wail and I rage until I'm breathless and sniffling and my eyes are swollen for the whole next day.
I believe they call these emotions "mood swings" and let me tell you, they are WICKED little forces of nature.

They are so wicked, in fact, that I can be completely unreasonable, I can UNDERSTAND that I am being completely unreasonable and yet, I can not stop myself.  For whatever reason, I can know this and I just can't shut my mouth from moving.  I'll give you two guesses who is bearing the brunt of this wonderful side effect of pregnancy and he's the one who gave you the other half of your chromosomes :)  He's holding up fine, and he does a pretty good job of tempering my emotional outbursts (which always ends with, "I can't doooooo this anymore!"  As if I have a choice of quitting, right?) but sometimes he actually tries to reason with me and boy, does that NOT go over so well.  What he doesn't understand is that I know when I'm being crazy; I'm just not able to find my sane.  I don't want to be reasoned with, I just want to be listened to.  Even if it's wacky and emotional and sometimes totally wrong. 

We visited with our midwives last week and it went amazingly well!  The first appointment was just an over-view of concepts...making sure that we're a good fit for one another.  But from the moment I walked in, I knew we were where we needed to be.  We were assigned two woment to work with--one is older and much more experienced (Abby) and the other is younger, more my contemporay, less experienced but perhaps a better "match" (Jill).  They work in that pairing together and they will be the ones assisting us in getting you here safely.

What I loved the most about that visit was realizing that I have the opportunity to experience your birth in a way that I've never done before.  I am in complete control of the situation--I get to choose how (water birth?), where (I have this crazy idea of a little white canopy on the back deck with twinkling white lights inside, a little "party" room per se--offering privacy but allowing me the freedom of being outdoors), and in what way (I want very little in the way of intervention, I want Daddy to deliver and I want to help catch you, I want the kids close (but not too close), I want the comfort of home--I want to labor here and to recover here and to have my family whole immediately after your arrival). 

All of these things are possible for me at this point.  Because my births are very easy and typically uncomplicated, I am very much at ease with this decision. 
In fact, I'm EXCITED.
This is not to say it doesn't scare me a bit--labor is always a bit frightening for me once I realize that "it's time" but I will be in very capable hands. 
And I'm putting full faith in trusting the process.
Women have safely had babies at home for centuries.
I see no reason why I can't share in that experience.
My body was engineered for this very life-giving event and as I well know, it runs on auto-pilot, in complete sync with yours to get you here into my waiting arms.  (Which are already waiting, by the way.)
I trust in that.  I find comfort in that.  And I'm looking very forward to the entire experience.

Some low and high points from last week:

--After the visit with the midwives, I couldn't stop thinking about you, the full-term you, and it definitely lifted my spirits.  So far, I just imagine you as the little olive-sized cutie that you are.  But talking about the birth kept taking me back to the moment when Creux slipped from my body, squalling and gorgeously pink, a massively healthy and lively little baby...my stomach drops a bit when I imagine that coming up again for me.  That moment where you leave my body and I reach out for you for the first time, eager to draw you close, to meet you finally, to count your fingers and toes and to marvel at the miracle of you.  Interestingly, I always forget about the whole gender thing.  Isn't that funny?  You'd think it would be the very first thing that comes to my mind after all the waiting and wondering but it isn't.  All I can think it...thank you, thank you, thank you.  I am so lucky.

--Those same midwives encourage a high protein diet for both of our nutritional needs so I've stepped up my consumption of all things protein-y.  Eating protein does NOT mean that I have to eat a diet high in animal content which is great because I don't.  I do eat my fair share of feathered friends but have tried to add in lots of seeds and nuts, too.  In regards to my morning sickness, it was suggested to me to nibble on some form of protein every little while so I jumped right in.  On Saturday, I had sunflower seeds all.day.long. and then I had chicken at dinner, followed by a 10pm snack of sliced apples and peanut butter.  By 1am, I threw every last bit of it up into the toilet.  Have never thrown up in the middle of the night before, young one, and did not care for it one little bit.  And am also now highly suspicious of any remedy for morning sickness.  Do you know what people need to say in response to a complaining mama-to-be?  "Buck up."  Because there isn't an ounce of ginger or peppermint or protein that has even taken the darn edge off my sickness.  I'm just digging my heels in at this point.  And when I can't hold it at bay, I don't.  And yes, I feel very sorry for myself, in case you were wondering :)

--It does not escape my notice ever that you will be here next year.  I think of you when Christmas shopping, oogling the tons of cute little rattles and other baby things that I see in catalogs.  I thought of you when decorating the tree, realizing that we need another little stocking.  And looking at a family photo taken yesterday at a Christmas party, I noticed your absence.  I saw where you would be sitting and it just looked a family member short to me.  Because you already exist so much for me, it DOES feel like an absence of sorts.

--During a nap today, I saw that same Christmas photo and you were no longer missing.  You were there, on Santa's lap, smiling and babbling, in the most beautifully girlish Christmas dress ever.  I think I had even managed to stick a bow to your three hairs.

I still think you are a girl.

Loving you always,
Mama