Okay, what was up with THAT business last night?
Those arms up all over your face, turning away from us...have you no mercy, child?
For a good half hour, we saw your hands and the sides of your arms.
All perfectly formed, I might add.
Good job there, those are important components to you.
Anyway, we tried for half an hour to get a decent peek at your face and in the 28th minute, you did FINALLY drop your arms and we were able to see fully who you are.
And YOU'RE SO CUTE!
Already there are similarities visible to your siblings which is freakily adorable.
Mostly, you resemble Chas and Greer but I suspect that might be because you are so slight still and those two are my long and leans.
The other two were true bouncing baby boys, coming out swollen, fat, fisted and furious and to this day, remain...sturdy. (And often times fisted and furious.)
You were bigger than I had thought!
13 ounces (well on your way to a whole pound!) and 11 inches long--the whole of you wouldn't fit in our hands anymore which was sort of shocking.
I sometimes just imagine you as this teensy little thing and you are definitely teensy but not in the same context of my imaginings.
It was amazing to watch you on the screen and since you took so darn long showing yourself, we had quite a lengthy show.
You were in constant motion, with those hands and fingers and arms touching your face and shielding your eyes. In the middle of the session, you simply changed positions, literally the fetal equivalent of getting up and walking away. I felt you start to shift and then watched as you just rolled away, turning your back to us and settling into a new position.
You're upside down which is just about as bizarre to me as you living in a bag of water.
All of which doesn't hold a candle to the fact that you're INSIDE MY BODY.
I was a little fearful of seeing you in such clear resolution because...I was afraid that it would make the rest of the wait unbearable.
And in the moment, it kind of did.
It's hard to see you like that, all perfectly formed and seemingly whole, and to not have immediate access to you.
I just wanted to hold you, just for a minute, just to see you in person, to feel your tiny self in my arms and then I'd have been happy to hand you back so you could finish growing.
Ah, but it doesn't work like that :)
And we can't meet yet so don't get any ideas, which I know you won't, because you CLEARLY do not follow directions well.
Real fast, let's just recap on what I said the other day.
"Keep your privates private" and something along the lines of "don't be shy!"
And what do you do?
You lay there showing the world your goodies which is just peachy in the dark of your waters but not so great when someone is illuminating your home!
Knowing that you were laying like that had me on edge the entire time we were in the office because I was so afraid you were going to flash your bits and then we'd know more than we want to know!
You kept moving so much too that the tech would remove the wand briefly so that you could adjust before we were watching in real-time. At the end, when she measured you, the big screen was turned off and the screen next to the tech was moved away from me so I didn't get to see your belly and only a glimpse of your feet when she'd snapped a photo of them to freeze for us.
You have cute feet, by the way.
I have to say this though, and it's so perfectly me, so perfectly in tune with how my other pregnancies have gone, and it's part of the reason why I love not knowing your gender:
Now I think you're a boy.
Your hands are big and girth-y.
We call them "mitts" over here because Rhyse and Creux have them and "hooves" for feet, to match.
But mostly it was seeing your face--you looked like a boy to me.
You looked like Chas.
And when I was watching you, I wasn't feeling "girl", I was just feeling "boy."
I couldn't really tell from the tech either which I really appreciated since she knew the very second she peeked at you and she knew that we did not want to know.
But it's very strange to know that someone else knows who you are, to sit and talk to them about "him or her" with the knowledge that she is the only one in the room who is positive of your gender.
To her, you weren't one or the other, you were only one.
She knew what my new family picture looked like.
That was weird.
She looked at you on her own screen first to see what your position was and she was like, "Okay, yeah, I absolutely can not guarantee that you will not accidentally see something that you don't want to see."
Which made me think you might be a boy because...well, you probably wouldn't SEE so much on a girl.
It would be more the lack of seeing.
But she also could have been saying it just because you weren't hiding anything.
Free as a bird, in there you are.
Free as a bird.
Either way, it's fun for me to flip back and forth because once you're born, I will no longer imagine these different gender scenarios. Some days I fit another little girl in here and build this new life around her, and then other days, I try on a boy and imagine stepping on Matchbox cars for another eight years.
It's a delight, truly, and the excitement just builds as we get closer.
I think I'll figure it out though towards the end, I really do.
I mentioned before that my pregnancy with Greer was the best, the easiest for me, and I think part of it was because she wasn't as big (only 7lbs, 14 oz) and she wasn't as crazy.
My boys just seem to be boys right from the get-go.
For example, I will not birth a 6 lb baby boy.
I know I did with Chas but he was three weeks early!
Rhyse, at even ten days early, was already 8lbs and 5 oz.
Another ten days and he would've been the size of a Thanksgiving turkey.
And with Creux, I could barely walk by the end.
He was just so big and heavy and had tons of pent-up energy, was constantly squirming and even very late in pregnancy, he'd force a position change.
My entire belly would be rearranged and it was visible!
One minute it would hold one shape and then next, the shape would be totally different!
(By the end, my belly tends to be stretched so taunt that it molds around my infants. My sister thinks it's the creepiest thing ever.)
So we'll see.
I'm currently in the "I don't know WHAT it is" stage of pregnancy.
Might be a girl, is probably a boy.
That's a good summation today.
Your due date is back to the 9th of July but I'm sticking with my own calculations for the purposes of this book. Your conception date would bring you to me by the 8th but I'm not going to complain if you're measuring more towards the 9th. That means your a smidge smaller than you should be for an 8th arrival. Fine by me.
Grow well but don't feel like you've got to break any records here.
Nine pounds is out of the question, I'd like you to know.
I will NOT be a happy camper about that move.
I'm simply not big enough of a person myself to be producing these large, sausage-y babies and each one of you gets bigger than the last.
And oh my good grief, if you give me stretch marks on my belly after none of your siblings did...
I don't even want to finish that sentence.
I give enough to my children, I happily hand over my body for ten months and my soul for a lifetime but let's not push the limits there, hmmm?
You do not want to be the first newborn who finds themself grounded upon arrival, am I right?
(I'm only joking. About the grounding. Am as serious as a heart attack on the stretch mark thing. Do not go there. I mean, I'm sure I'd get over it..in time...with therapy...;))
It was wonderful to see you last night and it hasn't been lost on me that the next time I lay eyes upon you, you'll likely be here.
With me.
Mine, finally and for always.
Loving you already,
Mama
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
20 Weeks, 4 Days
Funny, every time I sit down to write you, you immediately stir.
That's not even how I was going to open this post but the very second my bottom hit the couch, you popped up as I was opening my web page.
(Hi there, cutie!)
I forgot to tell you this yesterday.
I'm REALLY starting to enjoy people's reactions to the information that you are baby number five.
They're, like, astounded by that number.
I mean it.
Like jaw-droppingly astounded.
Take for example the receptionist at my dentist's office.
She's new so she hasn't seen me in there for the last year or else I wouldn't have been able to play with her like I did.
Mama can be so devilish sometimes.
(In my defense, remember--I was in tooth pain.)
So I walk into the office and tell her my name and watch while she searches and searches for my appointment in her book.
"I'm an emergency," I say, hoping that will move her along because I really wanted to just see my dentist and have him do something fast.
"Oh!" she said, "You're the pregnant person!"
Mmm. Yes. I'm the pregnant person apparently.
I sort of laughed, confirmed that I was indeed a person, who was indeed pregnant, and then watched her glance in your direction.
On this day, I'd worn a hoodie sweatshirt and matching lounge pants which hid you quite well. In most clothing, you are obvious but in this one outfit, you really aren't. (And I wasn't there for a glamour sitting, I because I was in agony. Agony requires comfortable clothing.)
"How far along are you? They said five months but I don't even see a belly at all! This must be your first! Is this your first?"
I don't know what came over me, it must've been the pain, but I kind of felt wicked. And I knew what was coming because the second I say the number "five", I'm telling you again, people just do not know how to respond.
I leaned in closer to her desk and stage whispered, "No. It's my FIFTH!"
And then I widened my eyes and dropped my jaw in perfect synchronization with hers.
Like, "Can you even BELIEVE this???"
She did not disappoint and I felt a little bit funnier in general.
I wasn't being mean to her, I was just enjoying her amazement.
I know five is a lot.
(Five is a lot, Baby. You'll see. You'll see me frazzle out daily, you'll learn what "nervous breakdown" means, along with "looney bin" and "I'VE HAD ENOUGH!!!" All just a normal part of the day around here, nothing to worry about though. I've got it, really I do.)
In honesty, though people are definitely surprised by my number, they are also very intrigued and seem genuinely interested in the workings of our world, in a kind way. If I'm feeling particularly ornery I'll tell them that we homeschool and that just puts them right over the edge, that little tidbit! I usually give them time to recover from the whole "five" thing and then they'll ask about school or something and I'll say off-hand "Oh well, we homeschool" and that starts the whole eye-popping, jaw-dropping thing over again but this time they're slightly taken aback.
They think I'm WEIRD!
And Catholic!
Haha!
(Which, by the way, I am--both weird and Catholic. Well, Catholic-ish. That's a long story. But the weird part, definitely :))
There seems to have been a dietary casualty from all of my early pregnancy barfing and it's Chinese food.
Well, I should clarify that.
It's actually the take-out Chinese food from down the street.
We've now had it twice since I last got sick on it and both times I could barely eat it.
It's the one meal that takes me precisely back to the memory of the heaving, the crying, the horrible wretching.
I don't know if I can get past it.
Too bad, too.
That was good Chinese food!
I had a thought about you today that wasn't regarding dream mail but it was kind, I think, symbolic in the same way.
I was driving Chas to art and was mentally calculating how many days your due date is after my birthday.
It's ten.
And my thought was, "Wow, all of us girls are going to have birthdays right there together, within two weeks of each other!"
The thought was so knee-jerk, so subconscious that it definitely makes me think I'm on the right page with you! It just seemed so natural to think of "us girls" as a threesome--me, Greer and you--and I realized at the moment that I really do deep down believe that you're another daughter for me! (And my apologies if you are a boy. I'm always wrong, didn't I say that?)
Maybe it was my second-guessing your gender yesterday, maybe it was my plea for dream mail, I don't know.
But I feel like maybe that was your version of my dream mail, maybe your message to me.
(Was it? WAS IT?)
Look, I don't have my hopes up for one gender or another.
I'd be just as thrilled to give Creux a best friend as I would to give Greer a human baby doll :)
But that doesn't mean that I am any less excited to find out!
I just don't want to be told by someone looking at you on a screen; I just feel like it'd be super anti-climatic and I really enjoy the moment of the unveiling.
If you tell me, YIPPEE!
But no one else is allowed.
Which brings me to...
We're going to see you tomorrow!
I called today and we have an appointment at 4:25 to do some up close and personal baby ooglin'!
The kids are all very excited and me, I can't wait.
You were half and inch long the last time we looked at you. I remember saying your foot was the size of my pinky fingernail.
You're now about seven and a half inches long, and weigh somewhere in the neighborhood of nine ounces.
So you've grown a bit and I'm really looking forward to checking you out again.
Remember now: keep your privates private!
(I'm nervous about this because Daddy and I are quite adept at reading those ultrasounds these days! We have no problem seeing things for what they are anymore (though with Chas, it truly may have been an alien reading--we couldn't tell a hand from his head!) so I'm paranoid about an accidental finding out of something.)
The pain in my pelvic bones is becoming more pronounced, I'm having cramps in my feet (what's up with THAT?) and I can no longer sleep an entire night without waking to pee.
The downhill slide already? Boy, this is early....
Loving you already,
Mama (who will likely have a hard time sleeping tonight due to extreme giddiness over visiting with you tomorrow)
That's not even how I was going to open this post but the very second my bottom hit the couch, you popped up as I was opening my web page.
(Hi there, cutie!)
I forgot to tell you this yesterday.
I'm REALLY starting to enjoy people's reactions to the information that you are baby number five.
They're, like, astounded by that number.
I mean it.
Like jaw-droppingly astounded.
Take for example the receptionist at my dentist's office.
She's new so she hasn't seen me in there for the last year or else I wouldn't have been able to play with her like I did.
Mama can be so devilish sometimes.
(In my defense, remember--I was in tooth pain.)
So I walk into the office and tell her my name and watch while she searches and searches for my appointment in her book.
"I'm an emergency," I say, hoping that will move her along because I really wanted to just see my dentist and have him do something fast.
"Oh!" she said, "You're the pregnant person!"
Mmm. Yes. I'm the pregnant person apparently.
I sort of laughed, confirmed that I was indeed a person, who was indeed pregnant, and then watched her glance in your direction.
On this day, I'd worn a hoodie sweatshirt and matching lounge pants which hid you quite well. In most clothing, you are obvious but in this one outfit, you really aren't. (And I wasn't there for a glamour sitting, I because I was in agony. Agony requires comfortable clothing.)
"How far along are you? They said five months but I don't even see a belly at all! This must be your first! Is this your first?"
I don't know what came over me, it must've been the pain, but I kind of felt wicked. And I knew what was coming because the second I say the number "five", I'm telling you again, people just do not know how to respond.
I leaned in closer to her desk and stage whispered, "No. It's my FIFTH!"
And then I widened my eyes and dropped my jaw in perfect synchronization with hers.
Like, "Can you even BELIEVE this???"
She did not disappoint and I felt a little bit funnier in general.
I wasn't being mean to her, I was just enjoying her amazement.
I know five is a lot.
(Five is a lot, Baby. You'll see. You'll see me frazzle out daily, you'll learn what "nervous breakdown" means, along with "looney bin" and "I'VE HAD ENOUGH!!!" All just a normal part of the day around here, nothing to worry about though. I've got it, really I do.)
In honesty, though people are definitely surprised by my number, they are also very intrigued and seem genuinely interested in the workings of our world, in a kind way. If I'm feeling particularly ornery I'll tell them that we homeschool and that just puts them right over the edge, that little tidbit! I usually give them time to recover from the whole "five" thing and then they'll ask about school or something and I'll say off-hand "Oh well, we homeschool" and that starts the whole eye-popping, jaw-dropping thing over again but this time they're slightly taken aback.
They think I'm WEIRD!
And Catholic!
Haha!
(Which, by the way, I am--both weird and Catholic. Well, Catholic-ish. That's a long story. But the weird part, definitely :))
There seems to have been a dietary casualty from all of my early pregnancy barfing and it's Chinese food.
Well, I should clarify that.
It's actually the take-out Chinese food from down the street.
We've now had it twice since I last got sick on it and both times I could barely eat it.
It's the one meal that takes me precisely back to the memory of the heaving, the crying, the horrible wretching.
I don't know if I can get past it.
Too bad, too.
That was good Chinese food!
I had a thought about you today that wasn't regarding dream mail but it was kind, I think, symbolic in the same way.
I was driving Chas to art and was mentally calculating how many days your due date is after my birthday.
It's ten.
And my thought was, "Wow, all of us girls are going to have birthdays right there together, within two weeks of each other!"
The thought was so knee-jerk, so subconscious that it definitely makes me think I'm on the right page with you! It just seemed so natural to think of "us girls" as a threesome--me, Greer and you--and I realized at the moment that I really do deep down believe that you're another daughter for me! (And my apologies if you are a boy. I'm always wrong, didn't I say that?)
Maybe it was my second-guessing your gender yesterday, maybe it was my plea for dream mail, I don't know.
But I feel like maybe that was your version of my dream mail, maybe your message to me.
(Was it? WAS IT?)
Look, I don't have my hopes up for one gender or another.
I'd be just as thrilled to give Creux a best friend as I would to give Greer a human baby doll :)
But that doesn't mean that I am any less excited to find out!
I just don't want to be told by someone looking at you on a screen; I just feel like it'd be super anti-climatic and I really enjoy the moment of the unveiling.
If you tell me, YIPPEE!
But no one else is allowed.
Which brings me to...
We're going to see you tomorrow!
I called today and we have an appointment at 4:25 to do some up close and personal baby ooglin'!
The kids are all very excited and me, I can't wait.
You were half and inch long the last time we looked at you. I remember saying your foot was the size of my pinky fingernail.
You're now about seven and a half inches long, and weigh somewhere in the neighborhood of nine ounces.
So you've grown a bit and I'm really looking forward to checking you out again.
Remember now: keep your privates private!
(I'm nervous about this because Daddy and I are quite adept at reading those ultrasounds these days! We have no problem seeing things for what they are anymore (though with Chas, it truly may have been an alien reading--we couldn't tell a hand from his head!) so I'm paranoid about an accidental finding out of something.)
The pain in my pelvic bones is becoming more pronounced, I'm having cramps in my feet (what's up with THAT?) and I can no longer sleep an entire night without waking to pee.
The downhill slide already? Boy, this is early....
Loving you already,
Mama (who will likely have a hard time sleeping tonight due to extreme giddiness over visiting with you tomorrow)
Sunday, February 21, 2010
20 Weeks, 3 Days
You're ever so swiftly entrenching yourself into my present day thinking these days.
I suppose at the beginning there, it just feels like there's so much time before you'll become a living and breathing reality and now...you are a reality for me.
Certainly, being able to feel you adds a tremendous mental and emotional connection as you don't let me forget your presence for long and maybe that's why you're "here but not here" in my thinking.
Today, for example, we were researching our last family vacation before your arrival. We're considering going to a place that we've been before, somewhere that we loved and have been wanting to get back to for almost four years now. When discussing the different condo units, I was leaning heavily towards the ground floor one (though we would really prefer a good view of the ocean from higher up) because we'd be able to sit on the patio, watch the kids play in the pool, with your monitor right there on the outdoor dining table.
I imagined sitting out there at night, letting your siblings swim in the pool illuminated with colored lights, while you snoozed a few feet away, safe and comfy in the condo. MAYBE I'd even have a glass of wine, poolside. (Yippee!)
The last time we visited this resort, we had a sixth floor unit (that's the highest available) that directly over-looked the pool which was awesome because we could see the boys swimming right below us (and my mom was there during that trip but this time, both boys are old enough to swim without us having to sit right there).
But I remember seeing the ground floor units scattered with little pool toys behind their private gate and I thought...wow, that would be so convenient! We could slip in and out of the unit for meals or for naps or whatever and yet be just a few steps away from the pool at all times! Since we travel off-season, we aren't anticipating a huge crowd down there or else neither of us would want the ground floor unit. And as it was, Daddy still initially preferred a higher rental but I pushed for your sake.
"But the baby could sleep just feet away from us and neither one of us would have to spend the afternoon in the condo! Using a monitor, we could just sit on the patio and be able to hear the baby while still being totally accessible to the other kids."
I pitched this hard, won my point...and then rememebered that YOU AREN'T A PART OF THIS VACATION!
I'm so caught up in you, you, you that I planned you right in there where you aren't going to be!
In May when we're looking to go away, you should be super snug in my incubator, not chillin' poolside!
It was sort of this way for me last night, too. During family movie, we were all sprawled on various couches and as I laid on mine, I looked over to where your baby swing will eventually go and thought...soon there will be someone rocking away over there.
The table and lamp will disappear and in its place will be a swinging newborn.
And as I thought and thought, I imagined you, brand-new you, no longer in your swing but curled up on your tummy, sleeping on my chest, not a care in the world. I could literally feel your tiny weight on me, the heat of your small body, the slight panting of your brand-new breathing, the baby squeaks you'd make when I shifted positions and gently disturbed your snoozing.
You are very real to me now and oh my goodness, I am excited.
Since I last wrote, I've been busy searching for your name. Interestingly, the more I look, the more I'm drawn back to my original choices for you which is surprising because I really thought I was kind of letting go of those! But I guess in the back of my mind, I compare everything I come across to the initial candidates and so far, there's no competition.
So maybe I'm back to where I started?
Of course, the hunt has just begun but I sort of know what I'm looking for in a name and can eliminate most immediately, at first glance.
I think I'm really going to have to do some unearthing here if I'm going to find "unique but not weird."
For the first time, I'm more ambivalent on your gender! I still think you're a girl but am less certain as the days go on.
Have I mentioned before that I'm always wrong on my babies though?
I'm usually wrong from my first assumption but I typically guess correctly there by the end.
I remember the exact moment that I was pretty positive that Creux was a boy.
It came to me in a dream, as most interesting things do when one is pregnant.
Dreaming during pregnancy is what I assume an acid trip must be like--I've never experienced one myself but I imagine it's kind of like being Alice in Wonderland.
At least that's how I feel in my dreams.
Things are just...strange and surreal, true but false, full of symbolism, highlighting fears and concerns in a myriad of ways, but mostly never directly.
It's like the real stuff is there but it's buried under a bunch of fraud and if you can sort that stuff out, you can sort of get to what's really being communicated.
Sounds confusing, doesn't it?
(Try living it! :))
Anyway, in this dream of mine, I was walking out to my mailbox on a gorgeously bright afternoon.
It was a hot day, and I remember I was wearing a tank top and flip-flops. (I can't recall how far long I was with him at the time but I know it was post the 20 week mark and my guess is it was in the late part of my pregnancy--putting me in the midst of summer.)
I reached the mailbox, opened it, and started sorting through the mail right there at the end of the driveway. (This was when we lived in the house that Daddy grew up in.)
So I was standing there, sorting, sorting, sorting and I pulled out an envelope addressed to "Henry Martin."
We obviously do not have a Henry and that name was never a contender, for the record.
But I remember holding the letter in my dream and understanding exactly what it meant to me in real life:
My baby was a boy.
I've had no such letter from you just yet but would love it if you'd drop me a line.
Come on, you can tell me!
Send me something--I'll never tell.
Mmmm, actually, I take that back.
Since this is your story, I probably WILL tell so don't send me anything unless you really want me to know.
I'm calling tomorrow to schedule our next meet-and-greet with you and I DO NOT want you to send me a visual during the ultrasound.
Let me be clear on this point: you can send me a letter because that's still very unofficial and is absolutely subject to interpretation but you can not send me a close-up visual of your baby bits because I don't want to positively know anything about you!
I like the surprise!
In summary:
Letter = good
Flashing = bad
Got that?
Loving you already,
Mama (who really means business on this--keep your privates private!)
(And who also will be checking the dream mail neurotically from now until July.)
I suppose at the beginning there, it just feels like there's so much time before you'll become a living and breathing reality and now...you are a reality for me.
Certainly, being able to feel you adds a tremendous mental and emotional connection as you don't let me forget your presence for long and maybe that's why you're "here but not here" in my thinking.
Today, for example, we were researching our last family vacation before your arrival. We're considering going to a place that we've been before, somewhere that we loved and have been wanting to get back to for almost four years now. When discussing the different condo units, I was leaning heavily towards the ground floor one (though we would really prefer a good view of the ocean from higher up) because we'd be able to sit on the patio, watch the kids play in the pool, with your monitor right there on the outdoor dining table.
I imagined sitting out there at night, letting your siblings swim in the pool illuminated with colored lights, while you snoozed a few feet away, safe and comfy in the condo. MAYBE I'd even have a glass of wine, poolside. (Yippee!)
The last time we visited this resort, we had a sixth floor unit (that's the highest available) that directly over-looked the pool which was awesome because we could see the boys swimming right below us (and my mom was there during that trip but this time, both boys are old enough to swim without us having to sit right there).
But I remember seeing the ground floor units scattered with little pool toys behind their private gate and I thought...wow, that would be so convenient! We could slip in and out of the unit for meals or for naps or whatever and yet be just a few steps away from the pool at all times! Since we travel off-season, we aren't anticipating a huge crowd down there or else neither of us would want the ground floor unit. And as it was, Daddy still initially preferred a higher rental but I pushed for your sake.
"But the baby could sleep just feet away from us and neither one of us would have to spend the afternoon in the condo! Using a monitor, we could just sit on the patio and be able to hear the baby while still being totally accessible to the other kids."
I pitched this hard, won my point...and then rememebered that YOU AREN'T A PART OF THIS VACATION!
I'm so caught up in you, you, you that I planned you right in there where you aren't going to be!
In May when we're looking to go away, you should be super snug in my incubator, not chillin' poolside!
It was sort of this way for me last night, too. During family movie, we were all sprawled on various couches and as I laid on mine, I looked over to where your baby swing will eventually go and thought...soon there will be someone rocking away over there.
The table and lamp will disappear and in its place will be a swinging newborn.
And as I thought and thought, I imagined you, brand-new you, no longer in your swing but curled up on your tummy, sleeping on my chest, not a care in the world. I could literally feel your tiny weight on me, the heat of your small body, the slight panting of your brand-new breathing, the baby squeaks you'd make when I shifted positions and gently disturbed your snoozing.
You are very real to me now and oh my goodness, I am excited.
Since I last wrote, I've been busy searching for your name. Interestingly, the more I look, the more I'm drawn back to my original choices for you which is surprising because I really thought I was kind of letting go of those! But I guess in the back of my mind, I compare everything I come across to the initial candidates and so far, there's no competition.
So maybe I'm back to where I started?
Of course, the hunt has just begun but I sort of know what I'm looking for in a name and can eliminate most immediately, at first glance.
I think I'm really going to have to do some unearthing here if I'm going to find "unique but not weird."
For the first time, I'm more ambivalent on your gender! I still think you're a girl but am less certain as the days go on.
Have I mentioned before that I'm always wrong on my babies though?
I'm usually wrong from my first assumption but I typically guess correctly there by the end.
I remember the exact moment that I was pretty positive that Creux was a boy.
It came to me in a dream, as most interesting things do when one is pregnant.
Dreaming during pregnancy is what I assume an acid trip must be like--I've never experienced one myself but I imagine it's kind of like being Alice in Wonderland.
At least that's how I feel in my dreams.
Things are just...strange and surreal, true but false, full of symbolism, highlighting fears and concerns in a myriad of ways, but mostly never directly.
It's like the real stuff is there but it's buried under a bunch of fraud and if you can sort that stuff out, you can sort of get to what's really being communicated.
Sounds confusing, doesn't it?
(Try living it! :))
Anyway, in this dream of mine, I was walking out to my mailbox on a gorgeously bright afternoon.
It was a hot day, and I remember I was wearing a tank top and flip-flops. (I can't recall how far long I was with him at the time but I know it was post the 20 week mark and my guess is it was in the late part of my pregnancy--putting me in the midst of summer.)
I reached the mailbox, opened it, and started sorting through the mail right there at the end of the driveway. (This was when we lived in the house that Daddy grew up in.)
So I was standing there, sorting, sorting, sorting and I pulled out an envelope addressed to "Henry Martin."
We obviously do not have a Henry and that name was never a contender, for the record.
But I remember holding the letter in my dream and understanding exactly what it meant to me in real life:
My baby was a boy.
I've had no such letter from you just yet but would love it if you'd drop me a line.
Come on, you can tell me!
Send me something--I'll never tell.
Mmmm, actually, I take that back.
Since this is your story, I probably WILL tell so don't send me anything unless you really want me to know.
I'm calling tomorrow to schedule our next meet-and-greet with you and I DO NOT want you to send me a visual during the ultrasound.
Let me be clear on this point: you can send me a letter because that's still very unofficial and is absolutely subject to interpretation but you can not send me a close-up visual of your baby bits because I don't want to positively know anything about you!
I like the surprise!
In summary:
Letter = good
Flashing = bad
Got that?
Loving you already,
Mama (who really means business on this--keep your privates private!)
(And who also will be checking the dream mail neurotically from now until July.)
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
19 Weeks, 6 Days
We did great yesterday!
For all my complaining, it really wasn't so terrible--that whole dentist thing.
I'm sorry I blamed you, it probably wasn't your fault.
Probably :)
I almost canceled the appointment because of the horrible weather that we'd been having. I haven't seen this much snowfall since...well, since never. And we've had a few close calls in the car lately which have set my nerves on edge because even a small fender-bender could have drastic consequences for you and me--more likely you.
You're nearing the point of viability, meaning if you had to leave my body this early, you'd have a fighting chance of survival. However, I do not want to bear witness to that fight so I'm as cautious as I can be but driving in bad weather scares me more than anything right now. I wanted to ask Daddy to take us to my appointment yesterday morning but I didn't want any of the other kids out on the roads with us for the same reason. Everyone is just safer at home. At the very least, Creux would have needed to come along and my maternal instincts are in over-drive so I'm somewhat of a nutjob over safety stuff right now. In the end, I decided that it would just be best if I went alone...and went slow.
We made it there fine, despite all of my worry. The roads were actually far worse the day before when I went out in THAT snowstorm for the first dentist appointment.
I sure will be happy when it's spring.
Laying in the chair while getting my procedure done, I could feel you squirming all around. At first, it made me feel really comforted because I'd just received a lot of anesthetic and I could at least tell that you were fine in there. I don't think much of what I had reached you but who knows. Anything that goes into my body is fair game as far as I'm concerned.
I don't know if it was my position, me lying on my back for so long, or if it was the super loud tools being used, or if it WAS the medication but you were as active as you'd ever been and you would not stop wiggling around! The feeling of comfort that I had was replaced with frantic worry because I couldn't tell if you were just playing around or if something was suddenly really wrong. It's not like I can sit up and check on you so it's just maddening to have to lie there and wonder and wait and worry and wait and wonder some more.
Eventually you settled down, only to stir again later (you were actually up several times during the time I was there) and really, you spent the day reassuring me that you were fine.
Which I appreciated tremendously.
I don't know if I had a weird reaction to the medication used as I didn't think it was supposed to have any side effects at all but I couldn't stay awake. I felt like I'd taken a sleeping pill or something and my whole body was just groggy.
But you kept tapping away, even as I was sleeping (you'd wake me at points) and I was so happy that yesterday wasn't one of those days where you went quiet on me.
(Thanks for that.)
As it stands, I'm pain-free and pain-med-free! Problem solved and now we can go back to just cataloging the regular aches and pains that you give me :)
Tomorrow we'll be 20 weeks!
20 weeks!
That's halfway!
And that was the hard half!
This next part will absolutely fly on by.
The first two to three months positively dragged on due to my being so sick with you.
But now I'm feeling great and the weather WILL eventually break and we'll be so busy that before we know it, it'll be May and you'll almost be here.
Being that we're 20 weeks-ish, it's about time for another peek at you.
I want to get in there for another ultrasound before week 24 because that's when you're going to start running out of room.
Right now, you have tremendous acrobatic skill and space but within the month, we're going to start cramping each other.
Personally, I'm not looking forward to that because the first thing you babies take from me is lung space.
I can totally tell when it happens because it's such a significant change in the way I'm accustomed to breathing--like the ability to take a big breath of air, for example.
Bye-bye to that!
I remember with my two bigger boys, Rhyse and Creux, the very first thing I noticed when they left my body was how I was able to suddenly breathe again, right then and there. It changed immediately and it was super noticable to me. (You know that if it's something that a new mama notices right at the most important time in her life, it's a significantly noticable thing.) They pulled them from me and I just gasped in a huge amount of air instantly. And it felt good.
And as uncomfortable as it is for me, you getting bigger, it's got to be way worse for you.
I can't imagine being stuffed inside someone's body, fighting for the same space (though you'll win--you babies always take, take, take ;)) and trying to get comfortable. I'll try to remember this when I'm so enormous that I can't sleep unless I'm sitting propped straight up in bed.
It was at 32 weeks with Creux that I felt tapped out of room.
I even went in and requested a due date confirmation because since he was a surprise baby, I wasn't super positive when he was conceived and I managed to convince myself that I was at LEAST a month behind in calculations.
I wasn't.
He was just a piglet.
Maybe if you're a girl, you'll be slighter.
I don't think you'll be a slight boy.
My boys these days tend to come out looking like boxers.
Whatever you are, you are officially nameless and there are no real contenders currently.
I know I said at the start that I was pretty positive of who you would be and while I do still love the names, I'm not liking the frequency that I've heard them. That's not to say that they still won't be chosen in the end but I'm much less attached at this point.
I have no idea who you will be and knowing us, we won't hammer it out until the final week.
We always struggle with the whole naming thing because we are so darn picky! And it's not even ME that the pickier one, it's your Daddy! With Greer, we really had a hard time, not even deciding on hers until the day after she was born! We'd spent weeks sorting through names and even separately made our own top ten list and then swapped with each other to see if there were any common choices and to eliminate any that the other absolutely hated.
I remember he nixed nearly my whole list and this was after months of just saying, "No," whenever I said, "How about...."
He fell asleep after Greer was born and I laid awake into the wee hours of morning, sifting through baby name books, trying to find something for her.
In the end I did and it was perfect. (And he agreed. Which was good because I would have strangled him by that point if he hadn't.)
But I don't like being that unprepared and really don't want to ever wait that long again for a name selection.
I haven't really buckled down and started hunting but I will.
There's a name book under my bed that I've been meaning to peek at and we're hitting that point, for sure.
I'm giving myself the next three months to be completely ready for you.
March, April and May.
By then, everything should be in order and I can spend the last month just waiting it out.
Theoretically, you could arrive as early as mid-June so I need to be ready by then just in case. It wouldn't be the first time a baby caught me way off-guard!
And if you make it to your due date, then I'll have the entire last month to just hang out with your siblings and nap and nest to my heart's content.
Let it be known that I will bitch plenty though.
It will be hot and I will be huge.
Those two things separately stink but combined are a recipe for a disaster as far as this woman goes.
Well, Happy Halfway Point!
You'll be here in the blink of an eye...
Loving you already,
Mama (who would now be happy to give you a bite of ice cream if you still want it.)
For all my complaining, it really wasn't so terrible--that whole dentist thing.
I'm sorry I blamed you, it probably wasn't your fault.
Probably :)
I almost canceled the appointment because of the horrible weather that we'd been having. I haven't seen this much snowfall since...well, since never. And we've had a few close calls in the car lately which have set my nerves on edge because even a small fender-bender could have drastic consequences for you and me--more likely you.
You're nearing the point of viability, meaning if you had to leave my body this early, you'd have a fighting chance of survival. However, I do not want to bear witness to that fight so I'm as cautious as I can be but driving in bad weather scares me more than anything right now. I wanted to ask Daddy to take us to my appointment yesterday morning but I didn't want any of the other kids out on the roads with us for the same reason. Everyone is just safer at home. At the very least, Creux would have needed to come along and my maternal instincts are in over-drive so I'm somewhat of a nutjob over safety stuff right now. In the end, I decided that it would just be best if I went alone...and went slow.
We made it there fine, despite all of my worry. The roads were actually far worse the day before when I went out in THAT snowstorm for the first dentist appointment.
I sure will be happy when it's spring.
Laying in the chair while getting my procedure done, I could feel you squirming all around. At first, it made me feel really comforted because I'd just received a lot of anesthetic and I could at least tell that you were fine in there. I don't think much of what I had reached you but who knows. Anything that goes into my body is fair game as far as I'm concerned.
I don't know if it was my position, me lying on my back for so long, or if it was the super loud tools being used, or if it WAS the medication but you were as active as you'd ever been and you would not stop wiggling around! The feeling of comfort that I had was replaced with frantic worry because I couldn't tell if you were just playing around or if something was suddenly really wrong. It's not like I can sit up and check on you so it's just maddening to have to lie there and wonder and wait and worry and wait and wonder some more.
Eventually you settled down, only to stir again later (you were actually up several times during the time I was there) and really, you spent the day reassuring me that you were fine.
Which I appreciated tremendously.
I don't know if I had a weird reaction to the medication used as I didn't think it was supposed to have any side effects at all but I couldn't stay awake. I felt like I'd taken a sleeping pill or something and my whole body was just groggy.
But you kept tapping away, even as I was sleeping (you'd wake me at points) and I was so happy that yesterday wasn't one of those days where you went quiet on me.
(Thanks for that.)
As it stands, I'm pain-free and pain-med-free! Problem solved and now we can go back to just cataloging the regular aches and pains that you give me :)
Tomorrow we'll be 20 weeks!
20 weeks!
That's halfway!
And that was the hard half!
This next part will absolutely fly on by.
The first two to three months positively dragged on due to my being so sick with you.
But now I'm feeling great and the weather WILL eventually break and we'll be so busy that before we know it, it'll be May and you'll almost be here.
Being that we're 20 weeks-ish, it's about time for another peek at you.
I want to get in there for another ultrasound before week 24 because that's when you're going to start running out of room.
Right now, you have tremendous acrobatic skill and space but within the month, we're going to start cramping each other.
Personally, I'm not looking forward to that because the first thing you babies take from me is lung space.
I can totally tell when it happens because it's such a significant change in the way I'm accustomed to breathing--like the ability to take a big breath of air, for example.
Bye-bye to that!
I remember with my two bigger boys, Rhyse and Creux, the very first thing I noticed when they left my body was how I was able to suddenly breathe again, right then and there. It changed immediately and it was super noticable to me. (You know that if it's something that a new mama notices right at the most important time in her life, it's a significantly noticable thing.) They pulled them from me and I just gasped in a huge amount of air instantly. And it felt good.
And as uncomfortable as it is for me, you getting bigger, it's got to be way worse for you.
I can't imagine being stuffed inside someone's body, fighting for the same space (though you'll win--you babies always take, take, take ;)) and trying to get comfortable. I'll try to remember this when I'm so enormous that I can't sleep unless I'm sitting propped straight up in bed.
It was at 32 weeks with Creux that I felt tapped out of room.
I even went in and requested a due date confirmation because since he was a surprise baby, I wasn't super positive when he was conceived and I managed to convince myself that I was at LEAST a month behind in calculations.
I wasn't.
He was just a piglet.
Maybe if you're a girl, you'll be slighter.
I don't think you'll be a slight boy.
My boys these days tend to come out looking like boxers.
Whatever you are, you are officially nameless and there are no real contenders currently.
I know I said at the start that I was pretty positive of who you would be and while I do still love the names, I'm not liking the frequency that I've heard them. That's not to say that they still won't be chosen in the end but I'm much less attached at this point.
I have no idea who you will be and knowing us, we won't hammer it out until the final week.
We always struggle with the whole naming thing because we are so darn picky! And it's not even ME that the pickier one, it's your Daddy! With Greer, we really had a hard time, not even deciding on hers until the day after she was born! We'd spent weeks sorting through names and even separately made our own top ten list and then swapped with each other to see if there were any common choices and to eliminate any that the other absolutely hated.
I remember he nixed nearly my whole list and this was after months of just saying, "No," whenever I said, "How about...."
He fell asleep after Greer was born and I laid awake into the wee hours of morning, sifting through baby name books, trying to find something for her.
In the end I did and it was perfect. (And he agreed. Which was good because I would have strangled him by that point if he hadn't.)
But I don't like being that unprepared and really don't want to ever wait that long again for a name selection.
I haven't really buckled down and started hunting but I will.
There's a name book under my bed that I've been meaning to peek at and we're hitting that point, for sure.
I'm giving myself the next three months to be completely ready for you.
March, April and May.
By then, everything should be in order and I can spend the last month just waiting it out.
Theoretically, you could arrive as early as mid-June so I need to be ready by then just in case. It wouldn't be the first time a baby caught me way off-guard!
And if you make it to your due date, then I'll have the entire last month to just hang out with your siblings and nap and nest to my heart's content.
Let it be known that I will bitch plenty though.
It will be hot and I will be huge.
Those two things separately stink but combined are a recipe for a disaster as far as this woman goes.
Well, Happy Halfway Point!
You'll be here in the blink of an eye...
Loving you already,
Mama (who would now be happy to give you a bite of ice cream if you still want it.)
Monday, February 15, 2010
19 Weeks, 4 Days
Well hel-lo, Baby!
It's been awhile since I've written and that's only been because your siblings have kept me so busy! We were all just on a vacation together and I was either in the pool, watching movies, or catching up the fun photos on my other virtual space.
What did you think about the pool, by the way? I wondered about you as I was floating around, thinking...is that what it's like for you in there? It felt so wonderful to be weight-less, feeling so free and unrestricted, enveloped in the warmest of water.
Though where you are, it's dark.
Like dark, dark.
I don't think I'd care for that very much.
But you know no different and I don't think you can even open your eyes yet so it really probably doesn't matter to you much.
I remember when I was pregnant with Greer, I started having nightmares about her suffocating in her bag of water. I told my sister-in-law this at one point and she seemed alarmed, telling me that I should ask God to bless my baby or my dreams or something like that which spooked me even more because she clearly thought that meant something.
I mean, I just think it's the craziest thing that you babies grow underwater!
And I used to think it was comforting but for some reason, it really disturbed me with her. Honestly, I'm still not totally used to the idea but that's the way it works and it seems to work very, very well!
You're getting much bigger and on vacation I was finally able to feel your kicks with my hand! Up until now, I've only been able to feel them from the inside because they were pretty slight and detectable only to me. I don't think anyone else would be able to feel you yet; I have only been able to catch you about three times in the last week but I first tried it one night in the cabin and you hit my hand right away! It was a sweet moment--maybe because it's just another sign that you're growing stronger and bigger as these weeks continue to tick past us.
There's other things, too.
Not so pleasant things cause by you but mostly, no different from what your siblings have done.
Bleeding gums and congestion.
Heartburn but only with pizza. (What do you kids have against my eating pizza? It's the ONLY food that ever seems to bother you guys.)
I've also started noticing contractions here and there. Actually, I first felt them about a month or so ago but thought maybe I was just mistaken. I don't know why I say that because truly I knew I wasn't. But there are things that aren't "supposed" to happen at a certain time (like my feeling you before even 14 weeks--if you read a pregnancy book, that's UNHEARD of!) so I was just playing along, I suppose. But they're strong enough at this point for me to totally take notice. Not strong in a scary, this-is-bad way but strong in a my-body-is-just-revving kind of way. They're just practice rounds right now but it won't be so long now before they'll start doing real work.
Yesterday in the shower, I noticed that the joints in my pelvic bones are starting to loosen, making raising one leg to shave very uncomfortable. This is typically a side effect of pregnancy that gives me a lot of trouble later on when they REALLY loosen to make room for you because it just doesn't feel great to lose that flexibility. If I try and raise my leg too high, there's a sharp pain that tells me to knock it off. I struggled terribly with this symptom when I was pregnant with Chas and realized that no matter how much I complained about it, there wasn't a darn thing to be done. With him, my body had a LOT of loosening to do so it was incredibly painful at times. With everyone else, it normally just bothers me at the end. But with you, everything seems to be a little earlier and a little more pronounced.
Take for example, the root canal I'll be receiving in the morning.
Yes, I said ROOT CANAL.
My gums are always bothered by the hormones of pregnancy but this is a first.
This takes the Crap Cake.
I've somehow developed an infection in my gums that has lead to a tooth that needs a root canal ASAP.
And the worst of this is not the minor oral surgery part.
The worst is the NO PAIN MEDICATION part.
That's for you, my love.
Mama can take any old thing she wants to normally and if I weren't carrying you right now, I'd be off in Lalaland with a Vicodin, happily awaiting my morning appointment.
Ah, but with you, I get Tylenol.
Regular strength.
(Not even extra strength! This is barbaric, I say!)
Interestingly, both of your oldest brothers gave me tooth trouble as well, with Chas launching the appearance of my wisdom teeth and with Rhyse finishing them off. (I never had them pulled, despite how painful they were coming in. I have an absolute phobia of tooth pulling. I can handle the dentist; I can not handle someone trying to remove an item from my mouth. No. Way.)
I had no issues with Greer and Creux but then you come along and the next thing I know, I'm having one of the most deadest procedures in all of oral history.
Thanks for that, sweetie pie. Mwah.
It's okay though. I'll have a rough week but then it'll be over.
I did think to myself though earlier today...you know, out of the five months I've been pregnant with you, I've really had one feeling-good one. I was sick from November to January...and now this.
I can only hope that we're working out all of our high maintanence baby issues right now because you're planning on being that chill baby I need so badly.
(Right? RIGHT?)
You've either picked up my sleep/waking schedule or you're still very disturbed by your loud and crazy siblings.
On vacation, there was a morning that I made everyone breakfast and then sat down myself to chat with them and they were all yammering on about this and that and the whole time, you were just flipping around and pounding away, too. It was almost like you were contributing to the conversation. And we're at the point now where if I wake up in the middle of the night to pee, you're up too! I slink back in bed and then lay there while you explore your habitat, while you enjoy being awake for a bit. I can still fall asleep with you doing that though so it's not a problem. Yet.
And you're doing something really weird in there, something that feels like...crawling? All day today you've been really close to my belly and I told Daddy, it almost feels like you're a crab, clawing your way up a wall. It's weird and slightly freaky feeling.
Most times I really enjoy the sensations of your obvious well-being in there but at times, it does freak me out just a bit.
I sit back and think...there is a real live human being totally wiggling around in my body right now.
It's bizarrely wonderful. (But bizarre is definitely an adjective worth using in this situation.)
Well, I must rest up for my early morning Fear Factor challenge at the oral surgeon's office!
Wish me luck!
(You just woke up and are asking for ice cream and I must say I'm taking a little bit of delight in telling you that you can't have any because you wrecked my tooth. It's not a punishment, it's a fact. Cold ice cream on my mouth right now would require your father peeling us off the ceiling. So...no. No ice cream for you. And ow, stop punching me! This isn't MY fault, my teeth were fine last time I checked! You're just going to have to settle for a bit of a chocolate bar. That's all I can find that will seemingly meet your demands while not requiring me to wish that someone would just knock me out.)
Loving you already,
Mama
It's been awhile since I've written and that's only been because your siblings have kept me so busy! We were all just on a vacation together and I was either in the pool, watching movies, or catching up the fun photos on my other virtual space.
What did you think about the pool, by the way? I wondered about you as I was floating around, thinking...is that what it's like for you in there? It felt so wonderful to be weight-less, feeling so free and unrestricted, enveloped in the warmest of water.
Though where you are, it's dark.
Like dark, dark.
I don't think I'd care for that very much.
But you know no different and I don't think you can even open your eyes yet so it really probably doesn't matter to you much.
I remember when I was pregnant with Greer, I started having nightmares about her suffocating in her bag of water. I told my sister-in-law this at one point and she seemed alarmed, telling me that I should ask God to bless my baby or my dreams or something like that which spooked me even more because she clearly thought that meant something.
I mean, I just think it's the craziest thing that you babies grow underwater!
And I used to think it was comforting but for some reason, it really disturbed me with her. Honestly, I'm still not totally used to the idea but that's the way it works and it seems to work very, very well!
You're getting much bigger and on vacation I was finally able to feel your kicks with my hand! Up until now, I've only been able to feel them from the inside because they were pretty slight and detectable only to me. I don't think anyone else would be able to feel you yet; I have only been able to catch you about three times in the last week but I first tried it one night in the cabin and you hit my hand right away! It was a sweet moment--maybe because it's just another sign that you're growing stronger and bigger as these weeks continue to tick past us.
There's other things, too.
Not so pleasant things cause by you but mostly, no different from what your siblings have done.
Bleeding gums and congestion.
Heartburn but only with pizza. (What do you kids have against my eating pizza? It's the ONLY food that ever seems to bother you guys.)
I've also started noticing contractions here and there. Actually, I first felt them about a month or so ago but thought maybe I was just mistaken. I don't know why I say that because truly I knew I wasn't. But there are things that aren't "supposed" to happen at a certain time (like my feeling you before even 14 weeks--if you read a pregnancy book, that's UNHEARD of!) so I was just playing along, I suppose. But they're strong enough at this point for me to totally take notice. Not strong in a scary, this-is-bad way but strong in a my-body-is-just-revving kind of way. They're just practice rounds right now but it won't be so long now before they'll start doing real work.
Yesterday in the shower, I noticed that the joints in my pelvic bones are starting to loosen, making raising one leg to shave very uncomfortable. This is typically a side effect of pregnancy that gives me a lot of trouble later on when they REALLY loosen to make room for you because it just doesn't feel great to lose that flexibility. If I try and raise my leg too high, there's a sharp pain that tells me to knock it off. I struggled terribly with this symptom when I was pregnant with Chas and realized that no matter how much I complained about it, there wasn't a darn thing to be done. With him, my body had a LOT of loosening to do so it was incredibly painful at times. With everyone else, it normally just bothers me at the end. But with you, everything seems to be a little earlier and a little more pronounced.
Take for example, the root canal I'll be receiving in the morning.
Yes, I said ROOT CANAL.
My gums are always bothered by the hormones of pregnancy but this is a first.
This takes the Crap Cake.
I've somehow developed an infection in my gums that has lead to a tooth that needs a root canal ASAP.
And the worst of this is not the minor oral surgery part.
The worst is the NO PAIN MEDICATION part.
That's for you, my love.
Mama can take any old thing she wants to normally and if I weren't carrying you right now, I'd be off in Lalaland with a Vicodin, happily awaiting my morning appointment.
Ah, but with you, I get Tylenol.
Regular strength.
(Not even extra strength! This is barbaric, I say!)
Interestingly, both of your oldest brothers gave me tooth trouble as well, with Chas launching the appearance of my wisdom teeth and with Rhyse finishing them off. (I never had them pulled, despite how painful they were coming in. I have an absolute phobia of tooth pulling. I can handle the dentist; I can not handle someone trying to remove an item from my mouth. No. Way.)
I had no issues with Greer and Creux but then you come along and the next thing I know, I'm having one of the most deadest procedures in all of oral history.
Thanks for that, sweetie pie. Mwah.
It's okay though. I'll have a rough week but then it'll be over.
I did think to myself though earlier today...you know, out of the five months I've been pregnant with you, I've really had one feeling-good one. I was sick from November to January...and now this.
I can only hope that we're working out all of our high maintanence baby issues right now because you're planning on being that chill baby I need so badly.
(Right? RIGHT?)
You've either picked up my sleep/waking schedule or you're still very disturbed by your loud and crazy siblings.
On vacation, there was a morning that I made everyone breakfast and then sat down myself to chat with them and they were all yammering on about this and that and the whole time, you were just flipping around and pounding away, too. It was almost like you were contributing to the conversation. And we're at the point now where if I wake up in the middle of the night to pee, you're up too! I slink back in bed and then lay there while you explore your habitat, while you enjoy being awake for a bit. I can still fall asleep with you doing that though so it's not a problem. Yet.
And you're doing something really weird in there, something that feels like...crawling? All day today you've been really close to my belly and I told Daddy, it almost feels like you're a crab, clawing your way up a wall. It's weird and slightly freaky feeling.
Most times I really enjoy the sensations of your obvious well-being in there but at times, it does freak me out just a bit.
I sit back and think...there is a real live human being totally wiggling around in my body right now.
It's bizarrely wonderful. (But bizarre is definitely an adjective worth using in this situation.)
Well, I must rest up for my early morning Fear Factor challenge at the oral surgeon's office!
Wish me luck!
(You just woke up and are asking for ice cream and I must say I'm taking a little bit of delight in telling you that you can't have any because you wrecked my tooth. It's not a punishment, it's a fact. Cold ice cream on my mouth right now would require your father peeling us off the ceiling. So...no. No ice cream for you. And ow, stop punching me! This isn't MY fault, my teeth were fine last time I checked! You're just going to have to settle for a bit of a chocolate bar. That's all I can find that will seemingly meet your demands while not requiring me to wish that someone would just knock me out.)
Loving you already,
Mama
Friday, February 5, 2010
18 Weeks, 1 Day
We're leaving for our vacation in the morning but I wanted to make sure I hopped on here tonight to write to you about our latest midwives appointment!
Yesterday was the first time we'd taken your siblings and everyone was in attendance except Chas, who doesn't miss his gym class for ANYTHING barring your birth.
He really likes gym is what I'm trying to say.
Anyway, the three others finally were able to meet Abby and Jill and it's just such a lovely place to bring children. There are toys all over for little hands to grab and the small staff is very, very kid-friendly. The whole office is situated with families in mind and it's obvious, from the abundance of toys scattered about to the Resource Room where women can freely swap maternity and baby items (you take what you want, you bring in what you want) to the over-stuffed and VERY comfy couches that we sit upon for our appointments.
I drank hot tea with Jill while we talked and when it was time to examine me (you), I just laid on the couch for my measurements and to hear your heartbeat.
WHICH, by the way, was nice and strong.
Would you quit freaking me out like that, please?
You clocked in at 144 beats per minute and were heard literally the second the Doppler hit my belly. Jill then tried a fetoscope to hear you, which is sort of like a stethoscope but is way funkier, and couldn't.
You're too wee still.
Jill also tried to lock down your position by squishing my belly all over the place but couldn't determine your angle. It's okay though. At least we know you're in there!
When I arrived, I checked my urine (no protein) and weighed myself.
I gained three pounds in five weeks, putting me in the range of the 9-13 expected at this point.
Though I bought my own scale last month, I don't use it.
It's as annoying and unreliable as I had always assumed it would be.
I can tell I've gained though, it doesn't take a scale to tell me that, just a mirror :)
I can feel the difference in my body when I shower or put on lotion and in my face when I slide my hands over it. It's just slightly fleshier, all of it.
My weight gain will start to pick up here soon as we'll BOTH be logging some extra pounds in the next half of this pregnancy! You're just starting to lay down some of your own fat. Me, I'm good.
That extreme fatigue from last week is gone which has been nice.
I've been super busy trying to get ready to leave for this trip and had been worried about my energy being there for me. You must be done with your super big spurt and are back to just hanging out in there, growing still but not quite so aggressively.
It's weird how much more sensitive my body is these days to things like that of which you're going through.
I don't remember ever noticing that particular growth spurt before with any of the others--but then again, I'm paying closer attention this time because I'm not just running on auto-pilot.
What I mean by that is that since this birth is going to be so different, it's led to a complete mental over-haul of my own pregnancy expectations and participations.
No, I don't religiously read my Week-by-Week book from cover to cover like I did with Chas.
But I also no longer just show up for appointments expecting nothing...and like I said, running on auto-pilot. Sometimes that mindset of "been there, done that" gets in the way, or maybe has gotten in the way in the past, and this time it's gone.
My appointments are an hour long each of them, not the 15-20 minutes of a standard doctor appointment.
We talk more in depth about pregnancy issues than I ever have before.
So...I'm very in-tune with my body right now and with you, as a result.
It's really quite...refreshing.
I feel like I've been given a gift of some kind, one that has insisted that I not take a second of this phase with you for granted, just because I've done it four times before.
I'm grateful for that.
I mentioned to them that you're movements have been detectable to me for the past two weeks which places you around a June 22 arrival date.
It will be very interesting to see how accurate that is because my last two babies have been so very on-time due date wise, coming only two days early!
I'm not anticipating you early for some reason.
Personally, I happen to think I feel you really well because I'm by nature a thin person and there's very little separating us and I'm well versed with baby bangings.
Because they advocate a very hands-off approach (with little to no intervention on their part), I'm actually quite concerned that you might be late!
For the others, I've had weekly internal examinations during that last month of pregnancy and even a few rounds of membrane stripping to prompt labor. (I've only done that at 39 weeks, mind you, and I was tired of laboring and just waiting for the birth trigger at like 5 cm dilated. It was half over in my mind and I needed a little help. I may request this again but I'm going to TRY and leave you alone. I get anxious though and beaten down by my month long labor. No promises.)
By carefully going through each of my previous births, we've determined that on average, I have about three hours from start to finish, from the first "serious" contraction to you lying in my arms.
This both scares me and encourages me.
The scary part is that, should labor begin how it has with Chas and Greer, my eyes will just snap open in the middle of the night and it will be go time.
It's as dramatic as they make it seem in the movies, truly.
Because I am always already half-way done before I even start, when I do start, there's no messing around.
Normally I can barely make it through the shower and car ride to the hospital, I'm so consumed with the contractions.
I don't have a lot of time to get my head in the game and that's what worries me the most.
I don't have hours in which to prepare myself and calm my nerves and walk the neighborhood trying to progress labor.
I have hard labor from the second I realize what is happening until the end.
I wish I had more time.
I feel like I need more time just to get my bearings.
But realistically, I just don't get it.
Creux's birth was a bit different because I was leaking fluid but not in labor when I noticed that. However, when I arrived at the hospital and my contractions picked up, they were every bit as serious as the ones with Chas and Greer. I just don't have the beginning time that other women often have, where they realize they're starting labor but aren't in a terrible amount of pain.
This will be my biggest hurdle--getting myself in a mental state where I can manage my discomfort right off the bat.
The good news is that I can tolerate ANYTHING for just three hours!
Can't I?
I mean, really.
Can't I?
If I think back to Greer, which was my fastest, hardest labor, I knew I'd made it to 8cm and just had a teensy bit to go (like 20 minutes as it would turn out) but wow, I was climbing the walls.
I'll admit that I was freaking out in the worst of ways--I held it together until I knew there were people there to help me and then I gave up.
I remember grabbing the nurse's sleeve and begging her, "Please, please...give me something, whatever you have, please give it to me."
She did, plus I received an epidural.
But both were useless to me; Greer was just coming too fast.
So...I know I can do this. I know I can.
I think I'll hate it, I know I'll hate the pain. (Truthfully, I am NOT a good candidate for a home birth because I am a s-i-s-s-y. I am not one of those warrior birth women. I am passionate across the board--in love and in extreme dislike, in happiness and anger...and in pain. I feel it all. Loudly and thoroughly.)
Knowing the time frame helps me to prepare though and while it may end up being misleading, I know in the moment I will be watching the clock counting down the minutes of my three hour long torture session :) I won't be timing contractions, I'll be timing how much time I have left!
Also, I'm rethinking the water birth scenerio as honestly, I don't know that we'll even have time to get everything situated! Plus, if I'm in my bedroom I can labor in my shower under the hot water and that's really all I need for pain relief. I can just wobble to the bed when it's time to meet you.
This just sounds less complicated to me and I like that.
They've told me to envision many different birth scenarios--times of day, activities of choice, settings, etc. and to try and get comfortable with a few.
In my ideal scenario, it's day time, not the wee hours of morning. (Both of my spontaneous labors occured around 4-5 am.)
And it's not SO fast that I don't have some time to kill. I really don't like waking up from a sleep and realizing that I'm about to give birth. That's not so fun and it's scary. Like I said, it leaves very little time for mental prep and I NEED to prep myself this time.
So in my free time, in my ideal birth situation, I prepare your things.
A little knit cap, a new sleeping sack, a soft blankey.
I'm outside a bit with my kids, sitting on the front porch swing, laboring there but not obviously so.
It is, by the way, a gorgeous day.
I'm with my kids, just doing normal things...cutting up strawberries, popping by my blog to update, watching them have fun on the driveway or just biking right out front.
And then I hit the shower, have a few pieces of chocolate and...there you are! :)
This is highly unlikely.
I know already.
But if pressed for an ideal birth day, that would be it.
Ordinary but extraordinary.
I'm going to blink and we'll be 20 weeks.
Then we'll be counting down, not up.
I can't wait to meet you.
Loving you already,
Mama
Yesterday was the first time we'd taken your siblings and everyone was in attendance except Chas, who doesn't miss his gym class for ANYTHING barring your birth.
He really likes gym is what I'm trying to say.
Anyway, the three others finally were able to meet Abby and Jill and it's just such a lovely place to bring children. There are toys all over for little hands to grab and the small staff is very, very kid-friendly. The whole office is situated with families in mind and it's obvious, from the abundance of toys scattered about to the Resource Room where women can freely swap maternity and baby items (you take what you want, you bring in what you want) to the over-stuffed and VERY comfy couches that we sit upon for our appointments.
I drank hot tea with Jill while we talked and when it was time to examine me (you), I just laid on the couch for my measurements and to hear your heartbeat.
WHICH, by the way, was nice and strong.
Would you quit freaking me out like that, please?
You clocked in at 144 beats per minute and were heard literally the second the Doppler hit my belly. Jill then tried a fetoscope to hear you, which is sort of like a stethoscope but is way funkier, and couldn't.
You're too wee still.
Jill also tried to lock down your position by squishing my belly all over the place but couldn't determine your angle. It's okay though. At least we know you're in there!
When I arrived, I checked my urine (no protein) and weighed myself.
I gained three pounds in five weeks, putting me in the range of the 9-13 expected at this point.
Though I bought my own scale last month, I don't use it.
It's as annoying and unreliable as I had always assumed it would be.
I can tell I've gained though, it doesn't take a scale to tell me that, just a mirror :)
I can feel the difference in my body when I shower or put on lotion and in my face when I slide my hands over it. It's just slightly fleshier, all of it.
My weight gain will start to pick up here soon as we'll BOTH be logging some extra pounds in the next half of this pregnancy! You're just starting to lay down some of your own fat. Me, I'm good.
That extreme fatigue from last week is gone which has been nice.
I've been super busy trying to get ready to leave for this trip and had been worried about my energy being there for me. You must be done with your super big spurt and are back to just hanging out in there, growing still but not quite so aggressively.
It's weird how much more sensitive my body is these days to things like that of which you're going through.
I don't remember ever noticing that particular growth spurt before with any of the others--but then again, I'm paying closer attention this time because I'm not just running on auto-pilot.
What I mean by that is that since this birth is going to be so different, it's led to a complete mental over-haul of my own pregnancy expectations and participations.
No, I don't religiously read my Week-by-Week book from cover to cover like I did with Chas.
But I also no longer just show up for appointments expecting nothing...and like I said, running on auto-pilot. Sometimes that mindset of "been there, done that" gets in the way, or maybe has gotten in the way in the past, and this time it's gone.
My appointments are an hour long each of them, not the 15-20 minutes of a standard doctor appointment.
We talk more in depth about pregnancy issues than I ever have before.
So...I'm very in-tune with my body right now and with you, as a result.
It's really quite...refreshing.
I feel like I've been given a gift of some kind, one that has insisted that I not take a second of this phase with you for granted, just because I've done it four times before.
I'm grateful for that.
I mentioned to them that you're movements have been detectable to me for the past two weeks which places you around a June 22 arrival date.
It will be very interesting to see how accurate that is because my last two babies have been so very on-time due date wise, coming only two days early!
I'm not anticipating you early for some reason.
Personally, I happen to think I feel you really well because I'm by nature a thin person and there's very little separating us and I'm well versed with baby bangings.
Because they advocate a very hands-off approach (with little to no intervention on their part), I'm actually quite concerned that you might be late!
For the others, I've had weekly internal examinations during that last month of pregnancy and even a few rounds of membrane stripping to prompt labor. (I've only done that at 39 weeks, mind you, and I was tired of laboring and just waiting for the birth trigger at like 5 cm dilated. It was half over in my mind and I needed a little help. I may request this again but I'm going to TRY and leave you alone. I get anxious though and beaten down by my month long labor. No promises.)
By carefully going through each of my previous births, we've determined that on average, I have about three hours from start to finish, from the first "serious" contraction to you lying in my arms.
This both scares me and encourages me.
The scary part is that, should labor begin how it has with Chas and Greer, my eyes will just snap open in the middle of the night and it will be go time.
It's as dramatic as they make it seem in the movies, truly.
Because I am always already half-way done before I even start, when I do start, there's no messing around.
Normally I can barely make it through the shower and car ride to the hospital, I'm so consumed with the contractions.
I don't have a lot of time to get my head in the game and that's what worries me the most.
I don't have hours in which to prepare myself and calm my nerves and walk the neighborhood trying to progress labor.
I have hard labor from the second I realize what is happening until the end.
I wish I had more time.
I feel like I need more time just to get my bearings.
But realistically, I just don't get it.
Creux's birth was a bit different because I was leaking fluid but not in labor when I noticed that. However, when I arrived at the hospital and my contractions picked up, they were every bit as serious as the ones with Chas and Greer. I just don't have the beginning time that other women often have, where they realize they're starting labor but aren't in a terrible amount of pain.
This will be my biggest hurdle--getting myself in a mental state where I can manage my discomfort right off the bat.
The good news is that I can tolerate ANYTHING for just three hours!
Can't I?
I mean, really.
Can't I?
If I think back to Greer, which was my fastest, hardest labor, I knew I'd made it to 8cm and just had a teensy bit to go (like 20 minutes as it would turn out) but wow, I was climbing the walls.
I'll admit that I was freaking out in the worst of ways--I held it together until I knew there were people there to help me and then I gave up.
I remember grabbing the nurse's sleeve and begging her, "Please, please...give me something, whatever you have, please give it to me."
She did, plus I received an epidural.
But both were useless to me; Greer was just coming too fast.
So...I know I can do this. I know I can.
I think I'll hate it, I know I'll hate the pain. (Truthfully, I am NOT a good candidate for a home birth because I am a s-i-s-s-y. I am not one of those warrior birth women. I am passionate across the board--in love and in extreme dislike, in happiness and anger...and in pain. I feel it all. Loudly and thoroughly.)
Knowing the time frame helps me to prepare though and while it may end up being misleading, I know in the moment I will be watching the clock counting down the minutes of my three hour long torture session :) I won't be timing contractions, I'll be timing how much time I have left!
Also, I'm rethinking the water birth scenerio as honestly, I don't know that we'll even have time to get everything situated! Plus, if I'm in my bedroom I can labor in my shower under the hot water and that's really all I need for pain relief. I can just wobble to the bed when it's time to meet you.
This just sounds less complicated to me and I like that.
They've told me to envision many different birth scenarios--times of day, activities of choice, settings, etc. and to try and get comfortable with a few.
In my ideal scenario, it's day time, not the wee hours of morning. (Both of my spontaneous labors occured around 4-5 am.)
And it's not SO fast that I don't have some time to kill. I really don't like waking up from a sleep and realizing that I'm about to give birth. That's not so fun and it's scary. Like I said, it leaves very little time for mental prep and I NEED to prep myself this time.
So in my free time, in my ideal birth situation, I prepare your things.
A little knit cap, a new sleeping sack, a soft blankey.
I'm outside a bit with my kids, sitting on the front porch swing, laboring there but not obviously so.
It is, by the way, a gorgeous day.
I'm with my kids, just doing normal things...cutting up strawberries, popping by my blog to update, watching them have fun on the driveway or just biking right out front.
And then I hit the shower, have a few pieces of chocolate and...there you are! :)
This is highly unlikely.
I know already.
But if pressed for an ideal birth day, that would be it.
Ordinary but extraordinary.
I'm going to blink and we'll be 20 weeks.
Then we'll be counting down, not up.
I can't wait to meet you.
Loving you already,
Mama
Thursday, February 4, 2010
18 Weeks
I noticed this morning that your locket is missing, the one you gave me for Christmas.
My number "5."
It must've fallen off somehow.
Regardless, it made me sad.
I didn't have it long but I don't like being without it.
It just doesn't feel right.
My number "5."
It must've fallen off somehow.
Regardless, it made me sad.
I didn't have it long but I don't like being without it.
It just doesn't feel right.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
17 Weeks, 6 Days
Thank you.
Now stop it! I know I said I wanted a chill baby but I meant when you come OUT.
Being chill in there scares the crap out of me.
So be crazy!
Go wild!
Jump robe with your umbilical cord, I don't care!
Just don't...be so still.
That's scary.
Loving you already (Drama Queen? King?),
Mama
PS...I'm totally telling on you tomorrow.
And whatever you've moved to just under my ribcage, that doesn't belong there. Please find a different spot because that's really uncomfortably distracting. Certainly you've got plenty of room still. I did mention Creux was damn near nine pounds? Find. Another. Spot. (Really, what is that? It's not you so it must be an organ? That's a lovely thought. Egads, is that going to stay there for the next five months? Yikes.)
Now stop it! I know I said I wanted a chill baby but I meant when you come OUT.
Being chill in there scares the crap out of me.
So be crazy!
Go wild!
Jump robe with your umbilical cord, I don't care!
Just don't...be so still.
That's scary.
Loving you already (Drama Queen? King?),
Mama
PS...I'm totally telling on you tomorrow.
And whatever you've moved to just under my ribcage, that doesn't belong there. Please find a different spot because that's really uncomfortably distracting. Certainly you've got plenty of room still. I did mention Creux was damn near nine pounds? Find. Another. Spot. (Really, what is that? It's not you so it must be an organ? That's a lovely thought. Egads, is that going to stay there for the next five months? Yikes.)
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
17 Weeks, 5 Days
So where are you?
You've gone missing and you're making me very unhappy.
I noticed this morning when I woke up that I hadn't felt you yesterday. Or maybe it was late last night that it occurred to me, I can't remember. Yesterday was really busy and really crappy and I just chalked it up to my being over-whelmed in general, the fact that I missed feeling you.
So I was sort of on high alert today.
And there's been not a twinge.
This afternoon, I was on a baby-seeking mission.
I grabbed a snack, paired it with some apple juice (a SURE wiggle inducer), laid in bed and waited.
Nothing.
So where are you?
I hate this.
I actually googled those doppler heartbeat thingies tonight because I think I'm going to get one.
$70 on Amazon and I could overnight ship the damn thing and maybe I should.
I can't stand this wondering what's going on and worrying.
If I could just hear a quick heartbeat then I'd relax, knowing that you're just catching up on some sleep.
The only reason I've not stashed it in my virtual shopping cart is that we have an appointment tomorrow at noon with the midwives.
If I don't feel you tonight, you better believe that I'm walking in and straight-away finding a doppler.
I don't even need a midwife.
I know I'm probably being paranoid and freak motherish but I just can't help it.
You've been so active lately...???
Two days of quiet are torture to me.
I'm going to go lie on the couch and have my smoothie and wait up for you for a bit.
Please wake up.
Please move.
And quit doing this to me!
Loving you already,
Mama
You've gone missing and you're making me very unhappy.
I noticed this morning when I woke up that I hadn't felt you yesterday. Or maybe it was late last night that it occurred to me, I can't remember. Yesterday was really busy and really crappy and I just chalked it up to my being over-whelmed in general, the fact that I missed feeling you.
So I was sort of on high alert today.
And there's been not a twinge.
This afternoon, I was on a baby-seeking mission.
I grabbed a snack, paired it with some apple juice (a SURE wiggle inducer), laid in bed and waited.
Nothing.
So where are you?
I hate this.
I actually googled those doppler heartbeat thingies tonight because I think I'm going to get one.
$70 on Amazon and I could overnight ship the damn thing and maybe I should.
I can't stand this wondering what's going on and worrying.
If I could just hear a quick heartbeat then I'd relax, knowing that you're just catching up on some sleep.
The only reason I've not stashed it in my virtual shopping cart is that we have an appointment tomorrow at noon with the midwives.
If I don't feel you tonight, you better believe that I'm walking in and straight-away finding a doppler.
I don't even need a midwife.
I know I'm probably being paranoid and freak motherish but I just can't help it.
You've been so active lately...???
Two days of quiet are torture to me.
I'm going to go lie on the couch and have my smoothie and wait up for you for a bit.
Please wake up.
Please move.
And quit doing this to me!
Loving you already,
Mama
Sunday, January 31, 2010
17 Weeks, 3 Days
Can you hear them?
I think maybe you can.
You seem to be a little more aware of your surroundings.
Or, well, MY surroundings.
I noticed the other morning that when they were all leaping and bounding and squealing in my bed while I was trying to coax myself from my cozy perch, you seemed to wake up too.
And I thought...hmmm.
Have they finally broken through to you?
Have you grown so much already that you can hear all of them?
They are disturbers of peace and I'm here to make a formal apology and it's going to be sincere.
It might sound like a joke and it sort of is, but at the same time...it's not.
It's really loud here.
REALLY LOUD.
And it will likely completely over-whelm your small system and send you straight into shock shortly after your arrival.
(This happens to most guests so don't feel bad.)
There is very little I can do about the noise level.
I have tried and failed and if they're waking you now while you're as snug as a snail, then God help you, child.
Because they aren't going to quiet any time soon.
When Creux arrived, he flipped out.
And I mean, flipped out.
The first few days weren't so bad but I really think that he was completely fried by day four of existance.
He wailed miserably, was nearly inconsolable at times, and the only thing that could calm him...was me.
He was the first newborn that we'd ever had to show a preference for a parent.
I never knew a newborn HAD a preference.
But Charlie would try and help, he'd try and relieve me...he'd walk the halls with that baby, he'd swaddle, he'd bounce and coo.
And he was screamed at mercilessly.
I would sit on the couch, exhausted, sick to death of nursing (by day FOUR, I was sick to death....that was indication number one that I was in for some serious trouble), praying silently that Creux would just...stop...screaming.
It was hard.
Some would say it was colic perhaps but...I don't know about that.
I suppose I associate colic more with a dietary issue and I'm pretty careful when nursing newborns.
I know what the triggers are and I avoid them.
If you want my honest opinion, (and I know you do, right?), I think he was totally stressed out from this environment.
His arriving in early October did not provide me with much opportunity to just lounge about for weeks and weeks enjoying my new baby.
In fact, I think I was cheering on the sidelines of a soccer game two days after giving birth to him.
It was a busy time, the busiest time of our year, but also...this is a busy family you're getting.
And they will love you to pieces and they will not ever leave you alone.
You'll be constantly touched and caressed and sometimes poked and probably pinched (I'm so sorry, so, so sorry about that) but mostly they'll just be swarming your area.
Because, see, you will be with me.
Constantly.
And I rarely let go of my newborns, especially just after their arrival.
I want to be with you and I know you want to be with me.
I know that my body offers you tremendous comfort and security so I hold, and hold, and hold.
When we have to go out, you're tucked in a sling and kept close to my heart.
(I do this to keep you near me, to keep my hands free but also to keep others at a distance. Newborns bring out my mama bear and I don't like for you to be too accessible. Strangers are much less likely to approach and touch you if you're strapped in close to me. This becomes terrifically more important during cold and flu season because people love to fondle baby hands...but then you stick them in your mouth and...voila! You're snotty and miserable for days. Family and friends will yank you right out of the sling, they don't care! But neither do I--family and friends have earned their baby snatching rights. Others...not so much. Warning though: we have lots of family and friends. Sorry again.)
Anyway, I know it's probably startling to have them jar you out of a perfectly good slumber in there but it's something you might want to come to terms with :)
They'll either be loving you silly or fighting like cats and dogs one foot from your eardrum.
That's the way it goes, sweet stuff....
I sort of started preliminary shopping for you the other day.
I saw a post somewhere on organic swaddling blankets and I thought....oh, what a lovely gift to buy you!
So much of what you'll have, forever and for always, will be hand-me-downs. (I'm going to spend this entire post apologizing, I can tell already.)
And you won't need a "going home outfit" since you'll be here already so what could be better than a brand-new blanket?!?
I didn't buy anything yet but it was super thrilling to just be poking around for the most perfect snuggler for you.
Things like that make this all very, very real to me.
Not that you're not real, you are, but it's sort of a delayed reality type thing.
I think of you in terms of the future.
But to start really bringing you "into" my life by way of small things here and there...it brings you closer to me.
You have more definite waking and sleeping patterns now and I absolutely feel you every day, all during the day. For the longest time, I had to be lying really still in order to secure a tap but now I can be doing just about anything and I'll know when you've woken up.
Sometimes I'll say that, sometimes I'll announce, "The baby's awake," just so everyone can feel a little more involved, so that can know that you're around, a part of it all.
But at other times, I'll keep it to myself.
You'll wake and I'll notice but will be having a conversation with someone and I'll be listening but at the same time, my thoughts are with you.
I often like to keep your goings-on private.
It's sweet sometimes: just you and me.
You're awake right now, actually; you just stirred as I was writing that! Your little thumps and bumps make me smile--it's so reassuring to me to feel you.
What else is new?
You're the size of a banana.
I, however, am not.
I can no longer get in and out of bed with ease, I have to roll out of it, feeling like a moron.
I need help to get from the floor to a standing position.
I had to finally swap bras. Bye-bye sexy VS, hello maternity boulder-holder.
I have decided to swap back after writing that. I'll just make it fit.
My hair is like a lion's mane, it won't stop growing, and my fingernails need clipped constantly.
I'm still tired but am definitely feeling better than I was heading into last week.
Shaving my legs in the shower is starting to annoy me.
I can no longer really see my bikini line. Which is SCARY since when I'm looking, I'm usually wielding a razor.
However, the thought of a waxing makes me break out into a cold sweat.
But then this thought makes me believe that I really can get through natural childbirth because it's GOT to be better than that. If given the choice between the two, I'd choose labor every time.
Buuuuut, I can probably finagle a mani-pedi PLUS a prenatal massage out of it, if I book a wretched hair removal appointment.
Thinking.
Enticed, but passing for now.
Have not hit desperation yet nor have I sliced anything.
Matter to be reconsidered in exactly one month.
All in all, I'm hanging in there!
We have an appointment this week with the midwifes-- four weeks have passed so quickly, I can't believe it's time again!
I used to really be annoyed at these montly check-ups because they were so pointless at the doctor's office.
Weight, urine, blood pressure, "questions?"
But these appointments are like gab sessions with friends.
And normally, Daddy doesn't come for any appointments except for the two that feature ultrasounds. (This has always been my choice; he would come if asked but I just never felt like it was worth his time. The appointments were THAT pointless.)
But he comes to all of these! We're in this together and he's going to be heavily involved all the way--plus there's so much information exchanged that it's important that he be there.
Am more solid on my bedroom as your birthing room but am less solid on family involvement.
I just had a long discussion with my friend Tammy, who birthed her fourth and final baby at home, and she sort of opened my mind a little to things regarding your siblings.
I had been prepared to shoo them, to keep them close at hand, but not wanting anyone around during your birth.
I'm afraid that I will scare them.
But her policy was that her kids were free to come and go as they pleased, no one was pressured to stay and no one was forced to leave. She bought them all disposable cameras and let them photograph their little sister's first moments and what she ended up with was three different perspectives caught on film.
Maybe I'll poll the kids and get their thoughts.
I'm very undecided.
I'll still need someone here to help with them--Creux's too little to be given free reign around the house and I don't want to stick that responsibility on Chas.
I do have thoughts about that, about who I want here to help, and it's not going to be a popular decision.
I am absolutely going to piss off some people.
But I'm not going through this to make others comfortable or happy.
I need to focus on what's best for my kids, me, and the situation at hand and make decisions accordingly.
I just know that I don't want a crew of people in my house during your birth.
It's truly a private, almost sacred experience for me, and I don't feel bad for not wanting a crowd of loving people right there when you're born.
I'm simply not comfortable with that.
And perhaps this sounds awful but...I don't want to share the experience.
It's private and it's mine.
After you're here and we're both settled, we'll open our doors to close family and friends, just as we would in the hospital.
But I'm being really careful here not to cross my own personal boundaries.
This discussion to be continued as I sort things out.
I didn't think this would be as big of a deal as it's shaping up to be but it requires careful consideration on my part.
You're up again.
You went quiet for a bit but now you're rousing.
I'm going to go lay on the couch and be with you for awhile.
Loving you already,
Mama
I think maybe you can.
You seem to be a little more aware of your surroundings.
Or, well, MY surroundings.
I noticed the other morning that when they were all leaping and bounding and squealing in my bed while I was trying to coax myself from my cozy perch, you seemed to wake up too.
And I thought...hmmm.
Have they finally broken through to you?
Have you grown so much already that you can hear all of them?
They are disturbers of peace and I'm here to make a formal apology and it's going to be sincere.
It might sound like a joke and it sort of is, but at the same time...it's not.
It's really loud here.
REALLY LOUD.
And it will likely completely over-whelm your small system and send you straight into shock shortly after your arrival.
(This happens to most guests so don't feel bad.)
There is very little I can do about the noise level.
I have tried and failed and if they're waking you now while you're as snug as a snail, then God help you, child.
Because they aren't going to quiet any time soon.
When Creux arrived, he flipped out.
And I mean, flipped out.
The first few days weren't so bad but I really think that he was completely fried by day four of existance.
He wailed miserably, was nearly inconsolable at times, and the only thing that could calm him...was me.
He was the first newborn that we'd ever had to show a preference for a parent.
I never knew a newborn HAD a preference.
But Charlie would try and help, he'd try and relieve me...he'd walk the halls with that baby, he'd swaddle, he'd bounce and coo.
And he was screamed at mercilessly.
I would sit on the couch, exhausted, sick to death of nursing (by day FOUR, I was sick to death....that was indication number one that I was in for some serious trouble), praying silently that Creux would just...stop...screaming.
It was hard.
Some would say it was colic perhaps but...I don't know about that.
I suppose I associate colic more with a dietary issue and I'm pretty careful when nursing newborns.
I know what the triggers are and I avoid them.
If you want my honest opinion, (and I know you do, right?), I think he was totally stressed out from this environment.
His arriving in early October did not provide me with much opportunity to just lounge about for weeks and weeks enjoying my new baby.
In fact, I think I was cheering on the sidelines of a soccer game two days after giving birth to him.
It was a busy time, the busiest time of our year, but also...this is a busy family you're getting.
And they will love you to pieces and they will not ever leave you alone.
You'll be constantly touched and caressed and sometimes poked and probably pinched (I'm so sorry, so, so sorry about that) but mostly they'll just be swarming your area.
Because, see, you will be with me.
Constantly.
And I rarely let go of my newborns, especially just after their arrival.
I want to be with you and I know you want to be with me.
I know that my body offers you tremendous comfort and security so I hold, and hold, and hold.
When we have to go out, you're tucked in a sling and kept close to my heart.
(I do this to keep you near me, to keep my hands free but also to keep others at a distance. Newborns bring out my mama bear and I don't like for you to be too accessible. Strangers are much less likely to approach and touch you if you're strapped in close to me. This becomes terrifically more important during cold and flu season because people love to fondle baby hands...but then you stick them in your mouth and...voila! You're snotty and miserable for days. Family and friends will yank you right out of the sling, they don't care! But neither do I--family and friends have earned their baby snatching rights. Others...not so much. Warning though: we have lots of family and friends. Sorry again.)
Anyway, I know it's probably startling to have them jar you out of a perfectly good slumber in there but it's something you might want to come to terms with :)
They'll either be loving you silly or fighting like cats and dogs one foot from your eardrum.
That's the way it goes, sweet stuff....
I sort of started preliminary shopping for you the other day.
I saw a post somewhere on organic swaddling blankets and I thought....oh, what a lovely gift to buy you!
So much of what you'll have, forever and for always, will be hand-me-downs. (I'm going to spend this entire post apologizing, I can tell already.)
And you won't need a "going home outfit" since you'll be here already so what could be better than a brand-new blanket?!?
I didn't buy anything yet but it was super thrilling to just be poking around for the most perfect snuggler for you.
Things like that make this all very, very real to me.
Not that you're not real, you are, but it's sort of a delayed reality type thing.
I think of you in terms of the future.
But to start really bringing you "into" my life by way of small things here and there...it brings you closer to me.
You have more definite waking and sleeping patterns now and I absolutely feel you every day, all during the day. For the longest time, I had to be lying really still in order to secure a tap but now I can be doing just about anything and I'll know when you've woken up.
Sometimes I'll say that, sometimes I'll announce, "The baby's awake," just so everyone can feel a little more involved, so that can know that you're around, a part of it all.
But at other times, I'll keep it to myself.
You'll wake and I'll notice but will be having a conversation with someone and I'll be listening but at the same time, my thoughts are with you.
I often like to keep your goings-on private.
It's sweet sometimes: just you and me.
You're awake right now, actually; you just stirred as I was writing that! Your little thumps and bumps make me smile--it's so reassuring to me to feel you.
What else is new?
You're the size of a banana.
I, however, am not.
I can no longer get in and out of bed with ease, I have to roll out of it, feeling like a moron.
I need help to get from the floor to a standing position.
I had to finally swap bras. Bye-bye sexy VS, hello maternity boulder-holder.
I have decided to swap back after writing that. I'll just make it fit.
My hair is like a lion's mane, it won't stop growing, and my fingernails need clipped constantly.
I'm still tired but am definitely feeling better than I was heading into last week.
Shaving my legs in the shower is starting to annoy me.
I can no longer really see my bikini line. Which is SCARY since when I'm looking, I'm usually wielding a razor.
However, the thought of a waxing makes me break out into a cold sweat.
But then this thought makes me believe that I really can get through natural childbirth because it's GOT to be better than that. If given the choice between the two, I'd choose labor every time.
Buuuuut, I can probably finagle a mani-pedi PLUS a prenatal massage out of it, if I book a wretched hair removal appointment.
Thinking.
Enticed, but passing for now.
Have not hit desperation yet nor have I sliced anything.
Matter to be reconsidered in exactly one month.
All in all, I'm hanging in there!
We have an appointment this week with the midwifes-- four weeks have passed so quickly, I can't believe it's time again!
I used to really be annoyed at these montly check-ups because they were so pointless at the doctor's office.
Weight, urine, blood pressure, "questions?"
But these appointments are like gab sessions with friends.
And normally, Daddy doesn't come for any appointments except for the two that feature ultrasounds. (This has always been my choice; he would come if asked but I just never felt like it was worth his time. The appointments were THAT pointless.)
But he comes to all of these! We're in this together and he's going to be heavily involved all the way--plus there's so much information exchanged that it's important that he be there.
Am more solid on my bedroom as your birthing room but am less solid on family involvement.
I just had a long discussion with my friend Tammy, who birthed her fourth and final baby at home, and she sort of opened my mind a little to things regarding your siblings.
I had been prepared to shoo them, to keep them close at hand, but not wanting anyone around during your birth.
I'm afraid that I will scare them.
But her policy was that her kids were free to come and go as they pleased, no one was pressured to stay and no one was forced to leave. She bought them all disposable cameras and let them photograph their little sister's first moments and what she ended up with was three different perspectives caught on film.
Maybe I'll poll the kids and get their thoughts.
I'm very undecided.
I'll still need someone here to help with them--Creux's too little to be given free reign around the house and I don't want to stick that responsibility on Chas.
I do have thoughts about that, about who I want here to help, and it's not going to be a popular decision.
I am absolutely going to piss off some people.
But I'm not going through this to make others comfortable or happy.
I need to focus on what's best for my kids, me, and the situation at hand and make decisions accordingly.
I just know that I don't want a crew of people in my house during your birth.
It's truly a private, almost sacred experience for me, and I don't feel bad for not wanting a crowd of loving people right there when you're born.
I'm simply not comfortable with that.
And perhaps this sounds awful but...I don't want to share the experience.
It's private and it's mine.
After you're here and we're both settled, we'll open our doors to close family and friends, just as we would in the hospital.
But I'm being really careful here not to cross my own personal boundaries.
This discussion to be continued as I sort things out.
I didn't think this would be as big of a deal as it's shaping up to be but it requires careful consideration on my part.
You're up again.
You went quiet for a bit but now you're rousing.
I'm going to go lay on the couch and be with you for awhile.
Loving you already,
Mama
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
16 Weeks, 5 Days
I'm so stinkin' tired right now and I can't seem to shake it.
My guess is this growth spurt you're going through has you pulling harder on me.
I'm aware of this and am eating all the right things and trying to rest as much as possible but I'm losing this battle.
You are sucking the life right out of me!
AGAIN!
We slept in until NOON on Sunday and that is just unheard of!
Normally, "sleeping in" is a 10:00ish wake time.
But when my eyes fluttered open on Sunday, I knew it was way later than normal because I felt...really rested!
And hungry :)
But by mid-afternoon, I was craving a nap and I have sort of been that way ever since.
I don't function terribly well on exhaustion though I will say that I think this part is almost harder than when I'm juggling a newborn.
That's a weird comment when you think about it.
But I guess by the time you arrive, my real job begins and that's feeding you....sometimes hourly...so I adjust rather quickly to the routine and there seems to be a certain degree of functionality during that period of very little sleep.
Which is wonderful being it is a loooooong period.
Maybe it's easier then because I just simply know not to expect sleep.
I feel like this with my own personal "free time" during the day.
I have learned not to expect it and definitely not to rely on it because if it doesn't happen, I'm anguished beyond reason.
But once I accept the fact that I may not have more than just a few minutes alone in the bathroom on any given day....I'm delighted when free time comes my way.
(None of this is true during pregnancy, by the way. All bets are off right now because I can't reason away my rest period. You and I need this, it's not an extra little bonus. My diet and my restfulness have never been more important.)
I've been a little off this week so far and I honestly think it's due to the fact that I'm just really tired. We have a vacation looming which is much needed for everyone. I just can't wait to...relax and enjoy my family.
And sleep.
Looking forward to lots of good, long naps with you.
I've felt you every day since Friday which is the longest stretch I've had yet. The midwives told me to look for this, for the first week that I feel you every day and so far, this is looking good for it. It's thought that the delivery date will fall five months from that time.
This will put you in the last week of June, one week early.
Hmmm.
Look, I'm going to be honest here.
Your expected birth date bothers me and I suspect it stems from my being an "only."
Arriving July 8th or thereabouts puts you very close to Greer's birthday and I don't want you guys to have to share birthdays.
Is that silly?
Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, but there are 365 days in a year, 12 birthday months to choose from, so I don't see why we have to double up.
Had I truly had my pick, your birthday would have fallen in May (my first choice) or June.
But for you to have arrived in May, the timing was bad as we were hoofing it around DC with your big brothers.
And that was not the time to be making a little you.
We missed the June birthday by a day, I know I told you this already.
I knew we were late in trying but I smugly assumed it would work anyway.
A day matters, in case you will some day wonder.
The timing has to be, quite literally, perfect.
And we almost held off on a try for a July you altogether but in the end, decided to let the DNA fall where it may :)
I thought an August you would be nice too...but it worried me that it might not work, I worried that we'd "waste" a month of trying--like in some strange way, you have to have a certain amount of "nopes" before you get a "bingo!"
So I wanted to get another "nope" over with if July came to that so I could nail my "bingo!" in August if I had fulfulled my unknown quota of not-going-to-happens.
Honestly, I think it would have happened in May had we tried.
And I think it would have happened in June, had we tried one day earlier.
But in the moment, one just never knows.
Fertility is a screwy thing and I'm living proof.
I couldn't get pregnant for two years once upon a time.
Two whole years of trying.
And now, I can't seem to stop :)
The point of all of that is that I would LOVE it if you arrived by my birthday!
At just 37 weeks, you're considered full-term but that last week in June puts you well within range at 39 weeks!
We can do 39 weeks...can't we?
(And I know I've mentioned this before but I've never actually made my due date and dear God, I've never even dreamed of passing it by. Do not do that to me. I beg you. Do not make me be more pregnant than I've ever been, right there in the middle of the super hot summer. I will not be a happy mama and this book that I'm writing for you will grow ugly at the end. I'm sorry but I'm not going to sugar-coat that for you.
I. Will. Not. Be. Pleasant.)
I'm not going to get my hopes up and I've truly made my peace with your potential July birthday.
(Really, it's not THAT big of a deal, for crying out loud. I'm just saying I'd like you all to have your own special time, that's all. If you end up sharing the same day, it'll end up being the best darn day in the whole year. So...no pressure. Okay, well, slight pressure. But you do what you need to in there.)
Interestingly, you just kicked me!
Are you telling me to move on topic-wise...or that you'd like a yummy smoothie because that's the vibe I'm sort of getting from you.
And I've not only felt kicks recently but I can feel you shifting and turning.
It's really quite a strange sensation, almost like a tingling of some sort deep inside and then it stops.
You know what I can't wait for?
Hiccups!
Baby hiccups are my way favorite and I will literally clear a room so that I can sit and focus on those rhythmic jerks, where I giggle with sheer delight at each one and then wait quietly for the next, giggling all over again.
Ah, good times ahead.
Soon you will be big enough for hiccuping and when you push against me, I'll be able to push you back, sometimes being able to feel your bony little appendages sticking out here and there. I remember with Creux, I could literally pinch his small elbows as they would pop out when he'd turn positions or try to force me to give him another precious inch of space.
I love my little aliens.
Love 'em to pieces.
Loving YOU already,
Mama
My guess is this growth spurt you're going through has you pulling harder on me.
I'm aware of this and am eating all the right things and trying to rest as much as possible but I'm losing this battle.
You are sucking the life right out of me!
AGAIN!
We slept in until NOON on Sunday and that is just unheard of!
Normally, "sleeping in" is a 10:00ish wake time.
But when my eyes fluttered open on Sunday, I knew it was way later than normal because I felt...really rested!
And hungry :)
But by mid-afternoon, I was craving a nap and I have sort of been that way ever since.
I don't function terribly well on exhaustion though I will say that I think this part is almost harder than when I'm juggling a newborn.
That's a weird comment when you think about it.
But I guess by the time you arrive, my real job begins and that's feeding you....sometimes hourly...so I adjust rather quickly to the routine and there seems to be a certain degree of functionality during that period of very little sleep.
Which is wonderful being it is a loooooong period.
Maybe it's easier then because I just simply know not to expect sleep.
I feel like this with my own personal "free time" during the day.
I have learned not to expect it and definitely not to rely on it because if it doesn't happen, I'm anguished beyond reason.
But once I accept the fact that I may not have more than just a few minutes alone in the bathroom on any given day....I'm delighted when free time comes my way.
(None of this is true during pregnancy, by the way. All bets are off right now because I can't reason away my rest period. You and I need this, it's not an extra little bonus. My diet and my restfulness have never been more important.)
I've been a little off this week so far and I honestly think it's due to the fact that I'm just really tired. We have a vacation looming which is much needed for everyone. I just can't wait to...relax and enjoy my family.
And sleep.
Looking forward to lots of good, long naps with you.
I've felt you every day since Friday which is the longest stretch I've had yet. The midwives told me to look for this, for the first week that I feel you every day and so far, this is looking good for it. It's thought that the delivery date will fall five months from that time.
This will put you in the last week of June, one week early.
Hmmm.
Look, I'm going to be honest here.
Your expected birth date bothers me and I suspect it stems from my being an "only."
Arriving July 8th or thereabouts puts you very close to Greer's birthday and I don't want you guys to have to share birthdays.
Is that silly?
Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, but there are 365 days in a year, 12 birthday months to choose from, so I don't see why we have to double up.
Had I truly had my pick, your birthday would have fallen in May (my first choice) or June.
But for you to have arrived in May, the timing was bad as we were hoofing it around DC with your big brothers.
And that was not the time to be making a little you.
We missed the June birthday by a day, I know I told you this already.
I knew we were late in trying but I smugly assumed it would work anyway.
A day matters, in case you will some day wonder.
The timing has to be, quite literally, perfect.
And we almost held off on a try for a July you altogether but in the end, decided to let the DNA fall where it may :)
I thought an August you would be nice too...but it worried me that it might not work, I worried that we'd "waste" a month of trying--like in some strange way, you have to have a certain amount of "nopes" before you get a "bingo!"
So I wanted to get another "nope" over with if July came to that so I could nail my "bingo!" in August if I had fulfulled my unknown quota of not-going-to-happens.
Honestly, I think it would have happened in May had we tried.
And I think it would have happened in June, had we tried one day earlier.
But in the moment, one just never knows.
Fertility is a screwy thing and I'm living proof.
I couldn't get pregnant for two years once upon a time.
Two whole years of trying.
And now, I can't seem to stop :)
The point of all of that is that I would LOVE it if you arrived by my birthday!
At just 37 weeks, you're considered full-term but that last week in June puts you well within range at 39 weeks!
We can do 39 weeks...can't we?
(And I know I've mentioned this before but I've never actually made my due date and dear God, I've never even dreamed of passing it by. Do not do that to me. I beg you. Do not make me be more pregnant than I've ever been, right there in the middle of the super hot summer. I will not be a happy mama and this book that I'm writing for you will grow ugly at the end. I'm sorry but I'm not going to sugar-coat that for you.
I. Will. Not. Be. Pleasant.)
I'm not going to get my hopes up and I've truly made my peace with your potential July birthday.
(Really, it's not THAT big of a deal, for crying out loud. I'm just saying I'd like you all to have your own special time, that's all. If you end up sharing the same day, it'll end up being the best darn day in the whole year. So...no pressure. Okay, well, slight pressure. But you do what you need to in there.)
Interestingly, you just kicked me!
Are you telling me to move on topic-wise...or that you'd like a yummy smoothie because that's the vibe I'm sort of getting from you.
And I've not only felt kicks recently but I can feel you shifting and turning.
It's really quite a strange sensation, almost like a tingling of some sort deep inside and then it stops.
You know what I can't wait for?
Hiccups!
Baby hiccups are my way favorite and I will literally clear a room so that I can sit and focus on those rhythmic jerks, where I giggle with sheer delight at each one and then wait quietly for the next, giggling all over again.
Ah, good times ahead.
Soon you will be big enough for hiccuping and when you push against me, I'll be able to push you back, sometimes being able to feel your bony little appendages sticking out here and there. I remember with Creux, I could literally pinch his small elbows as they would pop out when he'd turn positions or try to force me to give him another precious inch of space.
I love my little aliens.
Love 'em to pieces.
Loving YOU already,
Mama
Saturday, January 23, 2010
16 Weeks, 2 Days
I've been quiet because you've been quiet.
You were freaking me out a little.
I had been feeling you for the last few weeks, most definitely sporadically but still pretty regularly.
And then you went still on me.
Honestly, I kept thinking I was maybe feeling you but I'd only get one small, soft tap...and then you were gone. I could never verify with that second, more reaffirming touch.
It was driving me crazy.
I know I mentioned before that those early, early weeks are so hard and paranoia-inspiring because other than waiting for some really horrible sign, there's no way to truly confirm if you're okay or not, if you're still growing or not.
But this stage is hard too, for the example I've just laid out.
I feel you, I feel you, I feel you...I don't feel you.
My paranoia swooped in again, after two stunning belly blows from Creux paired with your silence.
He doesn't understand that he needs to be careful with me, more careful than ever before.
He doesn't know that jumping on my belly while I'm snoozing in bed will cause me not only to wail in pain (that REALLY does not feel great at all--my belly is super tender) but will cause me to spend the next three days contemplating what might have happened to you.
(Logically, I know you're well protected in there. However, this is not a time of high logic for me. I anguish over these things right now.)
It wasn't until last night that I really and truly felt you enough to breathe a sigh of relief.
You're still there and you're fine.
You were just...chillin' :)
Once we left our first trimester, the odds of you making it to "viability" increased significantly in our favor but bad things happen.
Just the other day I learned of someone whose baby was at the same gestation as you, and she lost her amniotic fluid somehow. The hearbeat was heard for a few days after the fact but then it stopped.
I myself have a very close friend who suffered a devastating loss in the middle of her pregnancy so...I know it happens.
I just don't ever want it to happen that close to me again.
I don't believe in a God who takes babies like that because He needs them more than we do.
And I don't believe in the pat phrases that come with those losses...
"It was meant to be."
"Everything happens for a reason."
"It's probably for the best."
What I believe in is bad luck.
And that's all I happen to believe goes wrong sometimes.
So, I'm not immune to that.
I just want the odds to stay stacked in my favor here.
And even though this will get better for me, I won't truly breathe a sigh of relief until you're in my arms, safe and sound.
Actually, I may never breathe a sigh of relief.
You babies grow into rambunctious toddlers, mischevious preschoolers, devilish grade schoolers, scheming high schoolers.
Hmm.
So yeah, pretty much I'll worry forever.
Boy, that's fun to realize ;)
This should be the last of the "wait, what happened???" paranoia for awhile though!
From weeks 16-20, you will more than double both your weight (you're at 3.5ounces or thereabouts now) and your length (about 4.5 inches) so by the end of this period, when you move, I'll know it.
You're about the size of my open hand.
Isn't that the cutest thing ever?
I could hold you in my hand.
(Uh, though I do not wish to do so. You stay put.)
Last night you were up a lot, especially considering how quiet you've been.
But you were awake and bouncing around while I was trying to get to sleep.
It reminded me of being really, really pregnant with Creux, who was as active in-utero as he is now.
He would try and literally beat his way out.
It was so bad for me that when I would wake in the middle of the night and have to pee really, really, REALLY bad, I'd tiptoe to the bathroom and make very little noise for fear of waking him. I remember Charlie asking me something once and I hissed, "SHHH! You're going to wake the baby up!"
I suppose it seemed strange at the time, most definitely to him, but once Creux woke, he'd mess around in there for AGES and I would lie in the dark, willing him to go back to sleep and to stop pounding on me.
It never worked, by the way.
I never managed to not wake him, no matter how carefully I got out of bed and how quiet I was.
(I swore I wouldn't ask for anything from you except that you would grow strong and healthy but...can I ask just one thing? Can you be a chill baby for me? I'm due; I'm really, really due. If you could come out and be strong and healthy and super relaxed and happy....I swear I'll never ask for another thing. Well, maybe there will be just one or two things over the years but I'm your mother and I'm allowed to change the rules here and there. But please? Will you be my chill baby? PLEASE???)
Anyway, we're not quite at that point with each other as you're knockings don't necessarily keep me awake right now.
You're just midgie, still.
And you've not managed to find my kidneys yet which is a MAJOR bonus.
There's been a new development in the naming department and it's that we're likely going back to the drawing board.
Your Maybe Girl name has emerged on a tv show, if you can freaking believe that crap.
GAH.
I'm SO annoyed because when that happens, it just brings popularity to the name and this is one that I have loved since like FOREVER and have rather had my heart set on it (Creux would have been this) so I'm not sure what we'll do. We're both in agreement on this type of stuff and when Daddy heard it, he said, "Well, that might be it for that name." And I groaned because truly I don't want some uber popular baby name for my babies. I don't want a popular name AT ALL.
So, I'm digging.
Boy and Girl names are now less certain and I hate that.
Since we usually go "out" just a little with our names, I like to spend some time getting to know it myself and making really, really sure it fits well. I'm always looking for baby names, even when I'm years from having another. I'll scribble something I hear or see on my hand if I have to in order to get it home and in a safe place for future consideration. I've learned to do this the hard way because the names I like are so uncommon typically that I will forget them and no one will ever be able to jog my memory. I can't bear to think of all the potentials I've lost over the years.
Sigh.
So you're officially nameless.
And I STILL think you are a girl.
Speaking of girls, Greer and I spent the morning dancing like fools in the schooling room. We love to do this, we turn on the music and crank it really loud and dance, dance, dance together all over the place.
I had to wonder...what must you think of all that activity going on with me bouncing and swinging and swaying and singing? It's funny to imagine you in there, arms braced to the sides of your little water bag, like "WHAT in the world is she doing????"
Or better, you just rocking along in there, doing your own little tumbles and moves right along with us.
You're so cute I can't stand it.
Loving you already,
Mama
You were freaking me out a little.
I had been feeling you for the last few weeks, most definitely sporadically but still pretty regularly.
And then you went still on me.
Honestly, I kept thinking I was maybe feeling you but I'd only get one small, soft tap...and then you were gone. I could never verify with that second, more reaffirming touch.
It was driving me crazy.
I know I mentioned before that those early, early weeks are so hard and paranoia-inspiring because other than waiting for some really horrible sign, there's no way to truly confirm if you're okay or not, if you're still growing or not.
But this stage is hard too, for the example I've just laid out.
I feel you, I feel you, I feel you...I don't feel you.
My paranoia swooped in again, after two stunning belly blows from Creux paired with your silence.
He doesn't understand that he needs to be careful with me, more careful than ever before.
He doesn't know that jumping on my belly while I'm snoozing in bed will cause me not only to wail in pain (that REALLY does not feel great at all--my belly is super tender) but will cause me to spend the next three days contemplating what might have happened to you.
(Logically, I know you're well protected in there. However, this is not a time of high logic for me. I anguish over these things right now.)
It wasn't until last night that I really and truly felt you enough to breathe a sigh of relief.
You're still there and you're fine.
You were just...chillin' :)
Once we left our first trimester, the odds of you making it to "viability" increased significantly in our favor but bad things happen.
Just the other day I learned of someone whose baby was at the same gestation as you, and she lost her amniotic fluid somehow. The hearbeat was heard for a few days after the fact but then it stopped.
I myself have a very close friend who suffered a devastating loss in the middle of her pregnancy so...I know it happens.
I just don't ever want it to happen that close to me again.
I don't believe in a God who takes babies like that because He needs them more than we do.
And I don't believe in the pat phrases that come with those losses...
"It was meant to be."
"Everything happens for a reason."
"It's probably for the best."
What I believe in is bad luck.
And that's all I happen to believe goes wrong sometimes.
So, I'm not immune to that.
I just want the odds to stay stacked in my favor here.
And even though this will get better for me, I won't truly breathe a sigh of relief until you're in my arms, safe and sound.
Actually, I may never breathe a sigh of relief.
You babies grow into rambunctious toddlers, mischevious preschoolers, devilish grade schoolers, scheming high schoolers.
Hmm.
So yeah, pretty much I'll worry forever.
Boy, that's fun to realize ;)
This should be the last of the "wait, what happened???" paranoia for awhile though!
From weeks 16-20, you will more than double both your weight (you're at 3.5ounces or thereabouts now) and your length (about 4.5 inches) so by the end of this period, when you move, I'll know it.
You're about the size of my open hand.
Isn't that the cutest thing ever?
I could hold you in my hand.
(Uh, though I do not wish to do so. You stay put.)
Last night you were up a lot, especially considering how quiet you've been.
But you were awake and bouncing around while I was trying to get to sleep.
It reminded me of being really, really pregnant with Creux, who was as active in-utero as he is now.
He would try and literally beat his way out.
It was so bad for me that when I would wake in the middle of the night and have to pee really, really, REALLY bad, I'd tiptoe to the bathroom and make very little noise for fear of waking him. I remember Charlie asking me something once and I hissed, "SHHH! You're going to wake the baby up!"
I suppose it seemed strange at the time, most definitely to him, but once Creux woke, he'd mess around in there for AGES and I would lie in the dark, willing him to go back to sleep and to stop pounding on me.
It never worked, by the way.
I never managed to not wake him, no matter how carefully I got out of bed and how quiet I was.
(I swore I wouldn't ask for anything from you except that you would grow strong and healthy but...can I ask just one thing? Can you be a chill baby for me? I'm due; I'm really, really due. If you could come out and be strong and healthy and super relaxed and happy....I swear I'll never ask for another thing. Well, maybe there will be just one or two things over the years but I'm your mother and I'm allowed to change the rules here and there. But please? Will you be my chill baby? PLEASE???)
Anyway, we're not quite at that point with each other as you're knockings don't necessarily keep me awake right now.
You're just midgie, still.
And you've not managed to find my kidneys yet which is a MAJOR bonus.
There's been a new development in the naming department and it's that we're likely going back to the drawing board.
Your Maybe Girl name has emerged on a tv show, if you can freaking believe that crap.
GAH.
I'm SO annoyed because when that happens, it just brings popularity to the name and this is one that I have loved since like FOREVER and have rather had my heart set on it (Creux would have been this) so I'm not sure what we'll do. We're both in agreement on this type of stuff and when Daddy heard it, he said, "Well, that might be it for that name." And I groaned because truly I don't want some uber popular baby name for my babies. I don't want a popular name AT ALL.
So, I'm digging.
Boy and Girl names are now less certain and I hate that.
Since we usually go "out" just a little with our names, I like to spend some time getting to know it myself and making really, really sure it fits well. I'm always looking for baby names, even when I'm years from having another. I'll scribble something I hear or see on my hand if I have to in order to get it home and in a safe place for future consideration. I've learned to do this the hard way because the names I like are so uncommon typically that I will forget them and no one will ever be able to jog my memory. I can't bear to think of all the potentials I've lost over the years.
Sigh.
So you're officially nameless.
And I STILL think you are a girl.
Speaking of girls, Greer and I spent the morning dancing like fools in the schooling room. We love to do this, we turn on the music and crank it really loud and dance, dance, dance together all over the place.
I had to wonder...what must you think of all that activity going on with me bouncing and swinging and swaying and singing? It's funny to imagine you in there, arms braced to the sides of your little water bag, like "WHAT in the world is she doing????"
Or better, you just rocking along in there, doing your own little tumbles and moves right along with us.
You're so cute I can't stand it.
Loving you already,
Mama
Sunday, January 17, 2010
15 Weeks, 3 Days
Boy, the weeks are just ticking away for me.
Once I got over that sickness hurdle, where every day felt, truly, like three, now they're just flying by.
By the end of this week, we'll be four months along already and starting the last month of the first part of our pregnancy.
At 20 weeks, I'll be at the half way point and that's just a month away!
I simply can't believe how quickly time is passing and my guess is, as our family comes out of winter hibernation (it's slowing begun), it will only pick up.
You're growing as fast as the days as passing. It seems every time I wake up, my belly protrudes just a wee bit more. My regular shirts are still fitting which is nice because I'm not super keen on maternity ones. The pants are, and have been, a must but I can also get by with just yoga pants or lounge-y type stuff that I love to spend the winters in. It probably won't be until spring that I really have to modify my wardrobe and even then, I'm particular. By the time summer arrives, I'll be down to just about nothing, tank tops and my favorite pair of black gauchos, stretched out already from Creux's pregnancy. My guess is I'll wear as little clothing as possible because I'll feel like I'm sitting on the equator. (Already my core body temperature has ramped up; you're like a little heater inside me. I'm burning up at night, even with the fan going and unless it's positively frigid outside, it's not uncommon to see me without a coat on.)
So yep, you're getting bigger and I'm sleeping worse already. I mentioned the temperature issue (I sit here now, in the dead of winter in a spaghetti-strapped tank, wondering if I should pull my hair in a pony to help cool myself off. Yikes.) but I'm not sleeping well in general.
I can't sleep on my stomach, for obvious reasons, and I can't sleep on my back because it feels just gross (I can't really explain it well but there's an uncomfortable pressure that you add when I'm lying flat--it's rather disturbing). I normally sleep on my right side because it allows me to face...nothing, and I like that.
Daddy and I are not snugglers.
We are sleepers who mean serious business.
We say good night and flip onto our sides and stay that way until I'm attempting to beat him senseless at 4am for snoring.
More on that in a minute.
Anyway, lately when I've been lying on my right side, there's something...strange...going on under my ribs. It's a sensation I definitely associate with pregnancy but only with LATE pregnancy when little feet are jammed up there or worse, my liver or stomach.
It's sort of hard to breath and uncomfortable enough that even when actively sleeping, I'll notice it and try to shift the pressure off.
I don't have a clue what I'm feeling as you certainly aren't big enough to be making me feel so stuffy and THAT really worries me because you've only begun to grow really.
I remember feeling this with Creux in the last two months of pregnancy and having to sleep sitting up in bed.
It was not fun.
And I was CRANKY.
The other issue that I have is Daddy snoring, which honestly, isn't terrible most times, when I'm not pregnant.
Meaning, I can deal, sleep through it, gently knock him upside the head a time or two and then fall back asleep easily.
But with my own discomfort settling in, I can barely tolerate the sound coming from the other side of the bed.
I wake often just from being uncomfortable but then adding in his sleeping patterns, when he cycles deep enough to start his snoring, my eyes snap open and I reach out and shake him.
The first time, I shake him gently.
The second time, I shake him harder.
The third time, I kick him down by his legs.
The fourth time, I yell at him.
The fifth time, I start fantasizing about smothering him with my pillow.
(That's a joke. For the most part :))
I wake in the mornings and I am GROUCHY.
Pretty much I'm up all night every night either re-situating with you or assaulting your father.
It's really not pleasant.
But luckily, he lets me sleep a bit alone every morning.
Once the Littles wake, he typically gets breakfast going and I sleep the best sleep during the hour or two that I steal then.
This will only get worse as the months pass but will be immediately better upon your birth.
Truly, like the night of your birth, I'll be able to breath again and my discomfort will be different (but welcome until my milk comes in and I have two ginourmous leaky rocks on my chest) but at least I'll be able to sleep.
Like a baby...mama :)
I still feel wonderful though I tire easily and am generally short-tempered.
This mama is not one to be messed with during her gestational period, let me tell you.
My hormones are just wacky and I fear I have far too much testosterone or something because I am just combative and mouthy and impatient.
Not with my kids (the impatience perhaps) but with people who get under my skin for one reason or another.
And while I definitely need to check it, at other times it really allows me to say what I need to say and to not care so much how it's received.
Like, "No, I don't want to do that." Or, "I'd love to but I just can't."
These are two sentences that I'm getting really comfy with and it's good for me.
I'm very snappish though right now and am easily angered and I don't like that so much. My temper flares and I struggle more controlling that now than I normally do.
(Just ask the girl who almost didn't accept my tags-on exchange at the Maternity Destination the other day, when I wanted the same stupid sweater I was gifted but in a different COLOR.
That was not her best week ever, guaranteed.)
I'm feeling you but am hoping that this week or next, I'll be feeling you more.
I'm supposed to be paying close attention to the time frame where I can feel you every day as the saying goes that it will be exactly five months from that period to your birth. This should happen in the next two to three weeks or so with your due date being July 8th. Secretly, I'm hoping you grow quickly and come a bit early. The 4th would be fun...but my birthday is June 29th and it's possible you could sneak in there. I doubt you will, you shouldn't, it's better for you to stay put for as long as possible but selfishly, I think that would be the best gift ever.
The 30th works too, in case you're wondering.
I'm wide open, calendar cleared.
Speaking of calendars, we're deep into vacation planning over here, trying to fill the time with fun until you arrive!
I haven't felt like going anywhere in ages, not since we came home from Deep Creek and learned that you were coming.
But now, I've got wander-lust bad and am wanting to do take a few trips before you arrive since you'll bench this family the whole darn summer.
May is the latest I can travel and we'll likely not budge until mid-fall when we'll drag you on your first of many family adventures.
One last thing--
I've given it some thought and I'm thinking maybe we'll be changing the site of your home birth.
I'm planning this wonderful bedroom for us and so it only sort of makes sense to maybe stick up there for your arrival?
Initially, I had just assumed we'd take over the downstairs area because there's so much more room but with the changes we're making in the bedroom, I think it might be better for us up there.
The only thing I'm worried about is the space of which there isn't much.
At all.
And there will be at least four major players in my bedroom for the duration and that does not include any of your siblings, who I'm hoping will be there immediately upon your arrival to share in your first moments.
But like the downstairs, I have a deck off my bedroom that can be utilized and utilized well, fitting the water birth tub easily.
If we attach a canopy over the top of the deck, it will provide privacy PLUS I'll have access to my coziest of spaces, including my bathroom, which is sort of like a cocoon to me.
In the end, I can only guess how this will go because I know in the moment I'll go wherever and do whatever provides the most comfort to me and who knows what that will be.
I like the idea of being in my bedroom and I love the idea of having my little bathroom right there because I think I might really appreciate the small bits of solitude it could offer me.
It would be nice to steal away and labor on my own for a bit, especially as we hit the active part of it, where I'm not ready to push but am consumed by the pain. I could absolutely see me relishing that small, cozy space then.
And I must say, the privacy is a major draw.
Some people like a lot of support when they're in pain and others like to be left alone for a bit.
I think I'm a left aloner.
At least until I'm ready to be helped.
In the past, I've tended to do better and to stay focused and on top of the pain when I've been on my own.
When I've woken in labor (or false labor--which has happened in the last two pregnancies) I normally don't wake Daddy until I'm ready to go, until I've hit the point where I've known it's been just about time to leave for the hospital.
I'm good on my own, when I'm relying on just me, when I can sort of zone out a bit and really tune in to my body for awhile.
It's when others start to comfort me that I start feeling sorry for myself and I break down.
We'll have a home visit with the midwives just before you're set to come and they'll offer ideas that I'm sure I haven't thought of. But it helps me to plan ahead, to really figure out what I want for your birth, so that I can make sure everyone else is firmly on-board. I think the more comfortable I feel going into this whole thing, the better it's going to be for me when it happens.
I think about these things all the time because I feel like I'm going to blink and it'll be my birthday, right smack in the most gorgeous part of summer and you will be looming large.
I am absolutely, positively, without-a-doubt going to be ready.
Loving you already,
Mama
Once I got over that sickness hurdle, where every day felt, truly, like three, now they're just flying by.
By the end of this week, we'll be four months along already and starting the last month of the first part of our pregnancy.
At 20 weeks, I'll be at the half way point and that's just a month away!
I simply can't believe how quickly time is passing and my guess is, as our family comes out of winter hibernation (it's slowing begun), it will only pick up.
You're growing as fast as the days as passing. It seems every time I wake up, my belly protrudes just a wee bit more. My regular shirts are still fitting which is nice because I'm not super keen on maternity ones. The pants are, and have been, a must but I can also get by with just yoga pants or lounge-y type stuff that I love to spend the winters in. It probably won't be until spring that I really have to modify my wardrobe and even then, I'm particular. By the time summer arrives, I'll be down to just about nothing, tank tops and my favorite pair of black gauchos, stretched out already from Creux's pregnancy. My guess is I'll wear as little clothing as possible because I'll feel like I'm sitting on the equator. (Already my core body temperature has ramped up; you're like a little heater inside me. I'm burning up at night, even with the fan going and unless it's positively frigid outside, it's not uncommon to see me without a coat on.)
So yep, you're getting bigger and I'm sleeping worse already. I mentioned the temperature issue (I sit here now, in the dead of winter in a spaghetti-strapped tank, wondering if I should pull my hair in a pony to help cool myself off. Yikes.) but I'm not sleeping well in general.
I can't sleep on my stomach, for obvious reasons, and I can't sleep on my back because it feels just gross (I can't really explain it well but there's an uncomfortable pressure that you add when I'm lying flat--it's rather disturbing). I normally sleep on my right side because it allows me to face...nothing, and I like that.
Daddy and I are not snugglers.
We are sleepers who mean serious business.
We say good night and flip onto our sides and stay that way until I'm attempting to beat him senseless at 4am for snoring.
More on that in a minute.
Anyway, lately when I've been lying on my right side, there's something...strange...going on under my ribs. It's a sensation I definitely associate with pregnancy but only with LATE pregnancy when little feet are jammed up there or worse, my liver or stomach.
It's sort of hard to breath and uncomfortable enough that even when actively sleeping, I'll notice it and try to shift the pressure off.
I don't have a clue what I'm feeling as you certainly aren't big enough to be making me feel so stuffy and THAT really worries me because you've only begun to grow really.
I remember feeling this with Creux in the last two months of pregnancy and having to sleep sitting up in bed.
It was not fun.
And I was CRANKY.
The other issue that I have is Daddy snoring, which honestly, isn't terrible most times, when I'm not pregnant.
Meaning, I can deal, sleep through it, gently knock him upside the head a time or two and then fall back asleep easily.
But with my own discomfort settling in, I can barely tolerate the sound coming from the other side of the bed.
I wake often just from being uncomfortable but then adding in his sleeping patterns, when he cycles deep enough to start his snoring, my eyes snap open and I reach out and shake him.
The first time, I shake him gently.
The second time, I shake him harder.
The third time, I kick him down by his legs.
The fourth time, I yell at him.
The fifth time, I start fantasizing about smothering him with my pillow.
(That's a joke. For the most part :))
I wake in the mornings and I am GROUCHY.
Pretty much I'm up all night every night either re-situating with you or assaulting your father.
It's really not pleasant.
But luckily, he lets me sleep a bit alone every morning.
Once the Littles wake, he typically gets breakfast going and I sleep the best sleep during the hour or two that I steal then.
This will only get worse as the months pass but will be immediately better upon your birth.
Truly, like the night of your birth, I'll be able to breath again and my discomfort will be different (but welcome until my milk comes in and I have two ginourmous leaky rocks on my chest) but at least I'll be able to sleep.
Like a baby...mama :)
I still feel wonderful though I tire easily and am generally short-tempered.
This mama is not one to be messed with during her gestational period, let me tell you.
My hormones are just wacky and I fear I have far too much testosterone or something because I am just combative and mouthy and impatient.
Not with my kids (the impatience perhaps) but with people who get under my skin for one reason or another.
And while I definitely need to check it, at other times it really allows me to say what I need to say and to not care so much how it's received.
Like, "No, I don't want to do that." Or, "I'd love to but I just can't."
These are two sentences that I'm getting really comfy with and it's good for me.
I'm very snappish though right now and am easily angered and I don't like that so much. My temper flares and I struggle more controlling that now than I normally do.
(Just ask the girl who almost didn't accept my tags-on exchange at the Maternity Destination the other day, when I wanted the same stupid sweater I was gifted but in a different COLOR.
That was not her best week ever, guaranteed.)
I'm feeling you but am hoping that this week or next, I'll be feeling you more.
I'm supposed to be paying close attention to the time frame where I can feel you every day as the saying goes that it will be exactly five months from that period to your birth. This should happen in the next two to three weeks or so with your due date being July 8th. Secretly, I'm hoping you grow quickly and come a bit early. The 4th would be fun...but my birthday is June 29th and it's possible you could sneak in there. I doubt you will, you shouldn't, it's better for you to stay put for as long as possible but selfishly, I think that would be the best gift ever.
The 30th works too, in case you're wondering.
I'm wide open, calendar cleared.
Speaking of calendars, we're deep into vacation planning over here, trying to fill the time with fun until you arrive!
I haven't felt like going anywhere in ages, not since we came home from Deep Creek and learned that you were coming.
But now, I've got wander-lust bad and am wanting to do take a few trips before you arrive since you'll bench this family the whole darn summer.
May is the latest I can travel and we'll likely not budge until mid-fall when we'll drag you on your first of many family adventures.
One last thing--
I've given it some thought and I'm thinking maybe we'll be changing the site of your home birth.
I'm planning this wonderful bedroom for us and so it only sort of makes sense to maybe stick up there for your arrival?
Initially, I had just assumed we'd take over the downstairs area because there's so much more room but with the changes we're making in the bedroom, I think it might be better for us up there.
The only thing I'm worried about is the space of which there isn't much.
At all.
And there will be at least four major players in my bedroom for the duration and that does not include any of your siblings, who I'm hoping will be there immediately upon your arrival to share in your first moments.
But like the downstairs, I have a deck off my bedroom that can be utilized and utilized well, fitting the water birth tub easily.
If we attach a canopy over the top of the deck, it will provide privacy PLUS I'll have access to my coziest of spaces, including my bathroom, which is sort of like a cocoon to me.
In the end, I can only guess how this will go because I know in the moment I'll go wherever and do whatever provides the most comfort to me and who knows what that will be.
I like the idea of being in my bedroom and I love the idea of having my little bathroom right there because I think I might really appreciate the small bits of solitude it could offer me.
It would be nice to steal away and labor on my own for a bit, especially as we hit the active part of it, where I'm not ready to push but am consumed by the pain. I could absolutely see me relishing that small, cozy space then.
And I must say, the privacy is a major draw.
Some people like a lot of support when they're in pain and others like to be left alone for a bit.
I think I'm a left aloner.
At least until I'm ready to be helped.
In the past, I've tended to do better and to stay focused and on top of the pain when I've been on my own.
When I've woken in labor (or false labor--which has happened in the last two pregnancies) I normally don't wake Daddy until I'm ready to go, until I've hit the point where I've known it's been just about time to leave for the hospital.
I'm good on my own, when I'm relying on just me, when I can sort of zone out a bit and really tune in to my body for awhile.
It's when others start to comfort me that I start feeling sorry for myself and I break down.
We'll have a home visit with the midwives just before you're set to come and they'll offer ideas that I'm sure I haven't thought of. But it helps me to plan ahead, to really figure out what I want for your birth, so that I can make sure everyone else is firmly on-board. I think the more comfortable I feel going into this whole thing, the better it's going to be for me when it happens.
I think about these things all the time because I feel like I'm going to blink and it'll be my birthday, right smack in the most gorgeous part of summer and you will be looming large.
I am absolutely, positively, without-a-doubt going to be ready.
Loving you already,
Mama
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
14 Weeks, 5 Days
Today was literally a perfect day.
Everything just seemed to flow and it really highlighted what a "good day" consists of for me.
Round One:
School for Chas first thing.
School for Rhyse after that.
Littles loud but manageable.
A finished blog post.
A load of dishes, a load of laundry, a massive first floor clean-up.
Lunch.
A swift nap-time deposit for Creux.
A dance excursion for Greer.
45 minutes of rest for me.
Round Two:
I'm up, he's up.
Four batches of brownies, two helpers.
Another round of dishes and clothes.
A phone call, a birthday booking, a field trip planned, emails read and sent.
School for Rhyse.
School for Chas.
Dinner.
Playdoh making.
Some stories, some kisses, lots of "See you in the mornings!"
Tucking in.
Round Three:
A shower.
An online vacation hunt.
Clothes laid out.
Checks readied for classes.
Preschool snack prepped and ready.
Playdoh hardened.
Floor swept.
Dishes. Again.
Goodnights. Again.
Couch potato.
So you see, today was an easy day.
It was a home day, which meant I wasn't going out of my mind running here and running there.
Tomorrow is a horrible day, nothing like this one, but one I will spend in the car all day long.
Preschool drop-off, art drop-off, home, art pick-up, gym drop-off, preschool pick-up, home, gym pick-up, nap, tutoring drop-off, tutoring pick-up, MAYBE a darn pre-natal yoga class for us IF I have the stamina.
(I won't.)
The point of writing all of this is that in the first example, the day was perfect, fluid, busy, productive.
It was almost a dream day for me.
And in the whole bit of it, as I whipped myself from one thing to another, most of it, honestly, just home and kid management, I couldn't figure out where you were going to fit in.
I never once found a moment where I thought, "And here's where I squeeze in a 45 minute nursing, a diaper blow-out, an hour long snuggle with you snoozing on my chest, three minutes to marvel at tiny toes, an over-whelming consumation of love that renders me immobilized for half an hour."
I didn't find time for ANY of that.
I barely had time to drink a glass of water.
And that was BEST case scenario.
The tomorrow scenario?
That one will break me, WITHOUT you in the picture.
So, how do I do this? How do I shift these days, this family around again?
Where do I cut? Who loses in order for me to carve out your time?
Because it will happen.
You will move straight to the top of the food chain.
I always thought it would be the other way around.
Back when I had Chas and was pregnant with Rhyse, I just figured, "Well, the baby will have be accommodating..." but it doesn't work like that.
One squawk from you and plans are instantly aborted, consessions are made, classes are missed, the Martins are late.
For EVERYTHING.
And that's just the way of it.
I don't mind missing stuff.
But I hate disappointing any of my kids.
Looking at my crazy Wednesday, there isn't a cut that can be made.
Art is important to Rhyse. Preschool is the highlight of Greer's week. Gym is Chas' favorite thing ever. Tutoring is a must.
I never do anything for myself like this but thought a prenatal yoga class would be fun with you.
But I won't make it there.
I've seen their weekly schedule and I can't make it to any of the classes.
Why not?
Because right now I'm just not willing to put myself at the top of the food chain.
I have four kids to take care of, one to grow, and a household to run.
I'm not complaining, just pointing out the facts.
I'd rather cut the thing for me than I would for one of them. Somewhere, something's got to give so I just wonder...in the course of a "perfect" day, how can it be that I look around and think..."There's simply no time left here."
But strangely enough, I know it will work.
You're coming at the best time of year for me, a time with no school or sports, (both HUGE time sucks) so by the time I'm ready to rally, the adjustment to you will already have been made.
And as far as there being enough time in a day, there already ISN'T.
So I'm just going to have to quiet my Type A, and roll better with the punches.
I want you to know this:
You were not a part of the initial plan.
I have wanted four children since I was little.
I made sure that whoever I married wanted a big family, too.
Four was our number.
But at some point, right after Greer arrived, my heart changed.
I knew, holding her, that four was no longer my number.
I am grateful that four was no longer Daddy's number either.
You are the addition that is built on a much-loved house.
A house that is SO loved, it can't be left, but more space is needed.
Plans are drafted, modifications are made, a green light is given.
A mess is made.
But the work is worth it.
And suddenly it's not remembered how it ever was before.
You are our addition, the renovation to our much-loved family.
Not in the initial blueprint.
But forever in the final plans.
I'll find room for you.
I will carve and steal and hoard.
I will move mountains and I will skip yoga.
And some day if I renovate again, I'll still make sure that I do all of these things.
For you.
Everything just seemed to flow and it really highlighted what a "good day" consists of for me.
Round One:
School for Chas first thing.
School for Rhyse after that.
Littles loud but manageable.
A finished blog post.
A load of dishes, a load of laundry, a massive first floor clean-up.
Lunch.
A swift nap-time deposit for Creux.
A dance excursion for Greer.
45 minutes of rest for me.
Round Two:
I'm up, he's up.
Four batches of brownies, two helpers.
Another round of dishes and clothes.
A phone call, a birthday booking, a field trip planned, emails read and sent.
School for Rhyse.
School for Chas.
Dinner.
Playdoh making.
Some stories, some kisses, lots of "See you in the mornings!"
Tucking in.
Round Three:
A shower.
An online vacation hunt.
Clothes laid out.
Checks readied for classes.
Preschool snack prepped and ready.
Playdoh hardened.
Floor swept.
Dishes. Again.
Goodnights. Again.
Couch potato.
So you see, today was an easy day.
It was a home day, which meant I wasn't going out of my mind running here and running there.
Tomorrow is a horrible day, nothing like this one, but one I will spend in the car all day long.
Preschool drop-off, art drop-off, home, art pick-up, gym drop-off, preschool pick-up, home, gym pick-up, nap, tutoring drop-off, tutoring pick-up, MAYBE a darn pre-natal yoga class for us IF I have the stamina.
(I won't.)
The point of writing all of this is that in the first example, the day was perfect, fluid, busy, productive.
It was almost a dream day for me.
And in the whole bit of it, as I whipped myself from one thing to another, most of it, honestly, just home and kid management, I couldn't figure out where you were going to fit in.
I never once found a moment where I thought, "And here's where I squeeze in a 45 minute nursing, a diaper blow-out, an hour long snuggle with you snoozing on my chest, three minutes to marvel at tiny toes, an over-whelming consumation of love that renders me immobilized for half an hour."
I didn't find time for ANY of that.
I barely had time to drink a glass of water.
And that was BEST case scenario.
The tomorrow scenario?
That one will break me, WITHOUT you in the picture.
So, how do I do this? How do I shift these days, this family around again?
Where do I cut? Who loses in order for me to carve out your time?
Because it will happen.
You will move straight to the top of the food chain.
I always thought it would be the other way around.
Back when I had Chas and was pregnant with Rhyse, I just figured, "Well, the baby will have be accommodating..." but it doesn't work like that.
One squawk from you and plans are instantly aborted, consessions are made, classes are missed, the Martins are late.
For EVERYTHING.
And that's just the way of it.
I don't mind missing stuff.
But I hate disappointing any of my kids.
Looking at my crazy Wednesday, there isn't a cut that can be made.
Art is important to Rhyse. Preschool is the highlight of Greer's week. Gym is Chas' favorite thing ever. Tutoring is a must.
I never do anything for myself like this but thought a prenatal yoga class would be fun with you.
But I won't make it there.
I've seen their weekly schedule and I can't make it to any of the classes.
Why not?
Because right now I'm just not willing to put myself at the top of the food chain.
I have four kids to take care of, one to grow, and a household to run.
I'm not complaining, just pointing out the facts.
I'd rather cut the thing for me than I would for one of them. Somewhere, something's got to give so I just wonder...in the course of a "perfect" day, how can it be that I look around and think..."There's simply no time left here."
But strangely enough, I know it will work.
You're coming at the best time of year for me, a time with no school or sports, (both HUGE time sucks) so by the time I'm ready to rally, the adjustment to you will already have been made.
And as far as there being enough time in a day, there already ISN'T.
So I'm just going to have to quiet my Type A, and roll better with the punches.
I want you to know this:
You were not a part of the initial plan.
I have wanted four children since I was little.
I made sure that whoever I married wanted a big family, too.
Four was our number.
But at some point, right after Greer arrived, my heart changed.
I knew, holding her, that four was no longer my number.
I am grateful that four was no longer Daddy's number either.
You are the addition that is built on a much-loved house.
A house that is SO loved, it can't be left, but more space is needed.
Plans are drafted, modifications are made, a green light is given.
A mess is made.
But the work is worth it.
And suddenly it's not remembered how it ever was before.
You are our addition, the renovation to our much-loved family.
Not in the initial blueprint.
But forever in the final plans.
I'll find room for you.
I will carve and steal and hoard.
I will move mountains and I will skip yoga.
And some day if I renovate again, I'll still make sure that I do all of these things.
For you.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
14 Weeks, 2 Days
Oh, you were so good, so GOOD, the other night!
You wanted that milkshake, huh?
I thought you would.
I did feel you, twice, right after I shut down my laptop.
And I ordered your drink of choice, made special for you by He Who Never Complains About Our Annoying Snack Requests.
Well, he rarely complains.
He has inquired a time or two why I can't just ask for a bag of chips or an apple, something simple like that.
Everything I (you) want needs to be steamed or sliced or mixed.
We just like being high maintenance is all.
Can't he understand that?
(He does--he sighs and acts like he hates it but he doesn't. Our high maintenance does not involve Gucci handbags or ridiculously priced shoes. He appreciates that. So he lets all else slide. And we get LOTS of milkshakes!)
I wanted to mention something I forgot the other night.
I said I'd gained nine pounds, right?
Which isn't unusual for me--I'm not, contrary to popular belief, one of "those girls" who only gains like 12 pounds in her pregnancy.
I find that to be...disturbingly Stepford Wife-ish.
Anyway, I can't say for certain what my starting weight was so I'm completely guessing by what the scale says now. I think I had a wee bit of a Mommy Crack issue this past summer (compliments of Panera) that led to a slight "baby got back" five pounds or so.
Whatever.
I knew I was going to get pregnant anyway so what was the point in denying myself those delicious whipped creamy calories???
The point of this is to say that yes, I could be a food freakazoid and monitor every thing that passes my mouth and I could work out seven days a week in order to keep those pounds down.
I know mamas like this and I don't much care to emulate them.
To each his own I say, but it's not for me.
I'm not saying I'm not health conscious or I that enjoy myself a little pig-a-thon for ten months; I don't.
I just don't do the other either.
I gain around 35 pounds every time and it does not matter if I eat milkshakes or carrot sticks.
It's just my weight gain.
And I'm okay with that--now, were it 95 pounds, I'd be keeping my mouth shut over here but I'm within the expected weight gain range.
The HIGH end but WHO CARES, right?
Here's what sucks though.
I gained nine pounds in three and a half months.
You weigh an OUNCE.
What. The. Hell.
You weigh an ounce?
An ounce??
How is that even measurable? And where in the (beeeeeep!) are these nine pounds of mine?
I ask that like I have no idea where, isn't that funny?
Oh, I know where they are and some of them I don't mind.
I've mentioned my fantastic..um...upgrades, yes?
Those can stay.
Those can actually stay forever.
But the rest?
Well, it's fun temporarily.
I'll leave it at that.
I do kind of enjoy yanking on (struggling into) yoga pants and truly droppin' it low because now I've got something to drop!
I could knock a Little through a wall with one swift swing of my hips!
So I do have fun with it.
And at the same time, I stare at my skinny girl jeans with palpable longing.
I don't think any woman just loooooves the additional poundage.
I don't love it. I don't love it at all.
But I try not to let it get in my way of enjoying this part of life.
And whenever I bemoan about a weight-related something to your daddy, do you know what he says?
"I love it."
Like, "My butt is growing as fast as my belly."
"I love it."
"My boobs are taking over my entire chest. They're going to be bigger than the baby's whole head. I'm going to smother the baby. Death by boob."
"I love it."
"MY GOD, do I have CANKLES???"
"I love it."
Does he mean it?
I honestly don't know.
Probably not.
But he makes me feel like he does and that's what's important.
And this is not to say, despite all that, that near the end of my pregnancy, I will not sit directly in front of a large, large mirror and weep about the state of my exploding self. And when he tries to tell me that he loves the way I look, I will turn on him viciously and accuse him of lying through his teeth.
Months nine and ten are wicked on self-esteem, let me tell you.
But then...it's over.
And every day after that, I get a bit of my old self back. Sure, my body will never be perfect. I'm not interested in a perfect body though. I lack that vanity at this point in my life and sure as hell lack the drive to get it that way. I just want to be healthy and strong and fit, with as little effort put into that as possible :)
I just, really, want to return to ME.
So all I can say is, you better come out STARVING because I need you to snap this body back into shape when it's all over. I'm not going to be super thrilled if I suddenly find myself out running FOR FUN whilst dripping sweat all over the place in order to take back my bod.
Anyway, I just want to tell four-inch-sized-you (four inches! When we saw you three weeks ago, you were HALF an inch long!) that I'm going to hang in there with you but if you could actually be a pound right now instead of an ounce, I'd feel a LOT better about this situation.
An ounce.
Good grief, child...
Loving you already,
Mama
You wanted that milkshake, huh?
I thought you would.
I did feel you, twice, right after I shut down my laptop.
And I ordered your drink of choice, made special for you by He Who Never Complains About Our Annoying Snack Requests.
Well, he rarely complains.
He has inquired a time or two why I can't just ask for a bag of chips or an apple, something simple like that.
Everything I (you) want needs to be steamed or sliced or mixed.
We just like being high maintenance is all.
Can't he understand that?
(He does--he sighs and acts like he hates it but he doesn't. Our high maintenance does not involve Gucci handbags or ridiculously priced shoes. He appreciates that. So he lets all else slide. And we get LOTS of milkshakes!)
I wanted to mention something I forgot the other night.
I said I'd gained nine pounds, right?
Which isn't unusual for me--I'm not, contrary to popular belief, one of "those girls" who only gains like 12 pounds in her pregnancy.
I find that to be...disturbingly Stepford Wife-ish.
Anyway, I can't say for certain what my starting weight was so I'm completely guessing by what the scale says now. I think I had a wee bit of a Mommy Crack issue this past summer (compliments of Panera) that led to a slight "baby got back" five pounds or so.
Whatever.
I knew I was going to get pregnant anyway so what was the point in denying myself those delicious whipped creamy calories???
The point of this is to say that yes, I could be a food freakazoid and monitor every thing that passes my mouth and I could work out seven days a week in order to keep those pounds down.
I know mamas like this and I don't much care to emulate them.
To each his own I say, but it's not for me.
I'm not saying I'm not health conscious or I that enjoy myself a little pig-a-thon for ten months; I don't.
I just don't do the other either.
I gain around 35 pounds every time and it does not matter if I eat milkshakes or carrot sticks.
It's just my weight gain.
And I'm okay with that--now, were it 95 pounds, I'd be keeping my mouth shut over here but I'm within the expected weight gain range.
The HIGH end but WHO CARES, right?
Here's what sucks though.
I gained nine pounds in three and a half months.
You weigh an OUNCE.
What. The. Hell.
You weigh an ounce?
An ounce??
How is that even measurable? And where in the (beeeeeep!) are these nine pounds of mine?
I ask that like I have no idea where, isn't that funny?
Oh, I know where they are and some of them I don't mind.
I've mentioned my fantastic..um...upgrades, yes?
Those can stay.
Those can actually stay forever.
But the rest?
Well, it's fun temporarily.
I'll leave it at that.
I do kind of enjoy yanking on (struggling into) yoga pants and truly droppin' it low because now I've got something to drop!
I could knock a Little through a wall with one swift swing of my hips!
So I do have fun with it.
And at the same time, I stare at my skinny girl jeans with palpable longing.
I don't think any woman just loooooves the additional poundage.
I don't love it. I don't love it at all.
But I try not to let it get in my way of enjoying this part of life.
And whenever I bemoan about a weight-related something to your daddy, do you know what he says?
"I love it."
Like, "My butt is growing as fast as my belly."
"I love it."
"My boobs are taking over my entire chest. They're going to be bigger than the baby's whole head. I'm going to smother the baby. Death by boob."
"I love it."
"MY GOD, do I have CANKLES???"
"I love it."
Does he mean it?
I honestly don't know.
Probably not.
But he makes me feel like he does and that's what's important.
And this is not to say, despite all that, that near the end of my pregnancy, I will not sit directly in front of a large, large mirror and weep about the state of my exploding self. And when he tries to tell me that he loves the way I look, I will turn on him viciously and accuse him of lying through his teeth.
Months nine and ten are wicked on self-esteem, let me tell you.
But then...it's over.
And every day after that, I get a bit of my old self back. Sure, my body will never be perfect. I'm not interested in a perfect body though. I lack that vanity at this point in my life and sure as hell lack the drive to get it that way. I just want to be healthy and strong and fit, with as little effort put into that as possible :)
I just, really, want to return to ME.
So all I can say is, you better come out STARVING because I need you to snap this body back into shape when it's all over. I'm not going to be super thrilled if I suddenly find myself out running FOR FUN whilst dripping sweat all over the place in order to take back my bod.
Anyway, I just want to tell four-inch-sized-you (four inches! When we saw you three weeks ago, you were HALF an inch long!) that I'm going to hang in there with you but if you could actually be a pound right now instead of an ounce, I'd feel a LOT better about this situation.
An ounce.
Good grief, child...
Loving you already,
Mama
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