How Far Along: 38w0d
Weight Gain: 25 lb’s
Maternity Clothes: Totally
Symptoms: Random contractions, BH contractions, pain from Baby Girl moving around, peeing all the time, sciatic pain, stuffy nose, indigestion that tastes gross coming up, and feels worse coming out. (TMI, I know, but it's relevant for later remarks. Be warned.)
Stretch Marks: Maybe I should just remove this again, now that I've acknowledged that they're there?
Sleep: When Elijah isn't waking me up often from crying, and when a smoke detector isn't going off randomly at 1:50am, I'm sleeping pretty well. Sure I roll over often throughout the night, but I don't even look at the clock anymore to see how often, and I'm back asleep within minutes, if not seconds. I've been getting up to go pee 2-3 times, but even that doesn't throw off sleeping too much.
Best Moment of the Week: Food. It was Rachelle's birthday over the weekend, so mum made cake one day, and we had dinner there the next day and she made the skor pudding with brownie thing. I love it.
Movement: Yep, some jabs, and lots of waves, rolls and stretches. Every time I feel it, I can't help but imagine Baby Girl making all those movements outside of me, and having the room she wants (and needs!) to stretch out!
Food cravings: Milk, Rolos, Wendy’s 1/4 lb single meal with a chocolate frostie
Gender: A girl!
What I Miss: Sleeping in, but that’s not pregnancy-related, that’s just having kids related. When I was pregnant with Elijah I would sleep in until 9am most days, and after having him I was able to sleep until 10am every morning for months before Matt decided to stop working from home for that time and force me to get up earlier. I know it was a change that needed to happen, but I seriously miss sleeping as long as my body wants to, and it’s about to get even harder to do so!
What I’m Looking Forward To: Going into labour (as I mentioned last week) but also the mom-to-mom sale this weekend, painting my toenails this afternoon, and spending time with Tiffany and Julia tomorrow evening. OH and finishing my baby blanket for Baby Girl!
Milestones: 38 weeks. Apparently even though full-term is 37 weeks, my midwives recommended not hoping I go into labour then, as the baby isn't quite...fully full-term until 38 weeks. So yeah for that!
Emotions: Irritated often, weepy, bored yet excited, it's a jumble to me. I used the word 'vacillate' this morning, and Matt said it's a good word that describes me really well right now. I can't help but agree!
Belly Photo: (to be taken later)
So, I'm torn right now. Or, as I said to Matt, I vacillate between being ecstatic that I'm already 38 weeks, and morose that I'm only only 38 weeks. And sometimes, even a little worried that I'm already 38 weeks.
Yesterday I was excited to be this far. This morning it feels like nothing. And then in the middle of the night, when I got up for the 3rd time to go pee, I thought to myself, "I don't really want a baby right now."
This is all just so silly! I know that I am excited. I know that the baby will come when she is good and ready, which could be any day, but is more likely than not in about 2.5 to 3 weeks. And as for not wanting a baby, that's just ridiculous. Of course I want this baby. I want her SO much. I just am not looking forward to getting up more than the 2-3 times a night I already get up to go pee, and combining STAYING up for 30-60 minutes at a time. Oh the other hand, however, I AM looking forward to nursing this little one, so that'll offset the difficulty of having a newborn. I know this. I just tend to forget it at 4:30am.
Another thing that has been...interesting lately is my mindset on when I go into labour.
With Elijah, 38 weeks occurred right on New Years Eve. I was feeling blue that he was not going to come in 2009, and I felt that, since he could have come any time in that week of full-term-ness and didn't, that he definitely WOULD come before my due date. This isn't making sense, but suffice it to say that I felt sure he'd be early. So every day was tense, exciting, and inevitably disappointing. To say going 13 days overdue was torture is a serious understatement!
So this time, I feel like I'm being wiser about it. I don't just know logically that the average 2nd baby is born 3 days past her due date, I also know psychologically that going extremely late is a possibility, nay, even a probability in my case, given how late Elijah was. I don't expect this baby to be at all early (in fact, I'd prefer an October birthday for her anyway.) It's made this countdown a lot easier, and in a way, a lot more surreal (as I wrote about in my last post.) I just realized that part of the surreality of it is that I could have a baby any day, but that I don't really believe it WILL be any day.
But then, there are things that I'm feeling that I never felt at this point with Elijah, and it makes me wonder if I'm going to go into labour soon. For instance, random, but real contractions.
I would add increased BM onto the list of things that might indicate impending labour, but I just figured this all out this morning. I was thinking, "Maybe I'm going to go into labour tonight! These BM have been insane!" (haha totally TMI, but I did warn you!) but then I clued in that it's because of this awful indigestion I've been experiencing. Every time I get the pressure and sulphur burps, then the next day my stomach aches pretty much all day. Another reason I'm feeling done. ;)
Anyway, now that I've bared all I'm going to finish this up and spend some time with my little man. Maybe I can manage to keep him from getting injured some more than he already has been in the last 24 hours. First a bee sting, then ultra diaper rash, and lastly pinching his belly in bi-fold doors. Poor baby!
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
Surreal
I know I've said it before, how it doesn't really feel real that we'll have another baby soon, but I've been thinking about this a lot today, and for the sake of sorting out my thoughts, I need to write about it (consider this one of the more journal-oriented posts.)
It's funny because, as this pregnancy progresses, it feels like the concept of having another baby becomes increasingly foreign to me. Perhaps I only think that because I'm so far removed from when we found out I was pregnant and all we experienced, but still.
I took a pregnancy test, had my beta levels increase, started to show and wondered what the university students around me thought, did the NT scan, found out we're having a girl. All of these things happened, and it seemed real. Exciting, at times unbelievable so, but there was always the reality there.
I'm trying to think at what point my mind started becoming disconnected to the fact that everything I'm experiencing means 'baby.' I think it might have been when I hit viability, and have hit ever significant milestone since then. Pretty much when the possibility of having a real live baby became...well, possible.
Weird, huh?
And as time has progressed since viability in early June, time has flown (with the exception of moments in August...ha.) For instance, I'm going to be 38 weeks on Thursday. How the heck did that happen?
I don't feel like the person who might have a baby any day. I feel like that must be someone else.
I go through the motions of getting ready for this baby. I bought nursing tank tops today and a gown that I hope to labour in. I have a birth plan written up. I'm crocheting a blanket that I'm praying won't unravel and that my little girl can use. I have a crib and 1/2 a dresser full of pink, purple, white and green clothes, and a bow board covered in bows and just awaiting photos of our little one.
And yet...it's so hard to imagine when I look in the mirror that there is a baby in this stomach of mine. That at one point this baby will want out, I'll labour and deliver this child one way or another, and that firm belly will be gone, replaced by a newborn. A little person, with arms, hands, feet and a face. A bum to clean, toes to kiss, hair (or lack thereof) to play with.
What's even harder than all of this to imagine is that I am only 2-4 weeks of this happening. My limit in terms of over-due-ness is 13 days overdue, which is when I went into labour with Elijah spontaneously. 13 days overdue is 4 weeks tomorrow. So, 4 weeks TOPS.
4 weeks is not long!!! And my due date is even sooner.
Wild.
And not that I'm hoping for it, but reality is that she could quite possibly come any time now. (as an aside, I googled average length of pregnancy and found a study that showed that 1st time mothers on average go to 41w1d, and that the average for subsequent pregnancies if 40w3d. Interesting. That puts me in labour during the craft show. I'll just have to make sure I go on Friday! ;-)
Anyway, the point to all of this rambling is that I'm ridiculously close. 2 weeks ago was not that long ago, and 2 weeks from now is insanely close.
And did I already say "Where the HECK did week 37 go?!" Yes? Sorry for being a broken record. It's my way of attempting to process things.
I have so many hopes for this labour, delivery, postnatal period, baby, my family. It's overwhelming to even think about it. I labour and deliver at home. I hope to do it pain-med free. I hope to not bleed a lot (like, no hemorrhaging like with Elijah.) I hope to not tear as badly. I hope to protect my baby from unwanted baby-holders at church. I hope to breastfeed. I hope to not get mastitis. I hope this baby has hair. I hope Elijah doesn't beat on this little one. I hope he learns to give her kisses and love her.
I am so excited, but it still seems so abstract.
I wonder what she'll look like? I have a feeling she'll look like Elijah, with dark hair and little, dark eyes that barely have a blue tint to them for all of a day, and then go murky brown like Elijah's did. At the same time, I had a dream before I ever got pregnant with this little girl. I dreamt that I gave birth to a baby girl (painlessly and standing up, no less!) and that the name we've had picked out for 1.5 years now was the name we gave our new daughter. I just took one look at her and said aloud, "Well of course your name is ________! How could it be anything else?" and she was blonde with blue eyes. But then later in my dream she was a young girl about 4 years old, and she had sweet, straight, shoulder-length red hair. She was the prettiest thing. I wonder if that was just my imagination, or not? Is that what my daughter will look like? Matt's eyes are not brown like mine, so I secretly hope that one of our children will have his green eyes rather than my brown ones (even though it's actually one of the things I love most about Elijah. He wears his eyes better than I do.)
Anyway, this is starting to become a rambler, which is a sign to wrap it up. I want to be in bed before 10pm tonight anyway.
It's funny because, as this pregnancy progresses, it feels like the concept of having another baby becomes increasingly foreign to me. Perhaps I only think that because I'm so far removed from when we found out I was pregnant and all we experienced, but still.
I took a pregnancy test, had my beta levels increase, started to show and wondered what the university students around me thought, did the NT scan, found out we're having a girl. All of these things happened, and it seemed real. Exciting, at times unbelievable so, but there was always the reality there.
I'm trying to think at what point my mind started becoming disconnected to the fact that everything I'm experiencing means 'baby.' I think it might have been when I hit viability, and have hit ever significant milestone since then. Pretty much when the possibility of having a real live baby became...well, possible.
Weird, huh?
And as time has progressed since viability in early June, time has flown (with the exception of moments in August...ha.) For instance, I'm going to be 38 weeks on Thursday. How the heck did that happen?
I don't feel like the person who might have a baby any day. I feel like that must be someone else.
I go through the motions of getting ready for this baby. I bought nursing tank tops today and a gown that I hope to labour in. I have a birth plan written up. I'm crocheting a blanket that I'm praying won't unravel and that my little girl can use. I have a crib and 1/2 a dresser full of pink, purple, white and green clothes, and a bow board covered in bows and just awaiting photos of our little one.
And yet...it's so hard to imagine when I look in the mirror that there is a baby in this stomach of mine. That at one point this baby will want out, I'll labour and deliver this child one way or another, and that firm belly will be gone, replaced by a newborn. A little person, with arms, hands, feet and a face. A bum to clean, toes to kiss, hair (or lack thereof) to play with.
What's even harder than all of this to imagine is that I am only 2-4 weeks of this happening. My limit in terms of over-due-ness is 13 days overdue, which is when I went into labour with Elijah spontaneously. 13 days overdue is 4 weeks tomorrow. So, 4 weeks TOPS.
4 weeks is not long!!! And my due date is even sooner.
Wild.
And not that I'm hoping for it, but reality is that she could quite possibly come any time now. (as an aside, I googled average length of pregnancy and found a study that showed that 1st time mothers on average go to 41w1d, and that the average for subsequent pregnancies if 40w3d. Interesting. That puts me in labour during the craft show. I'll just have to make sure I go on Friday! ;-)
Anyway, the point to all of this rambling is that I'm ridiculously close. 2 weeks ago was not that long ago, and 2 weeks from now is insanely close.
And did I already say "Where the HECK did week 37 go?!" Yes? Sorry for being a broken record. It's my way of attempting to process things.
I have so many hopes for this labour, delivery, postnatal period, baby, my family. It's overwhelming to even think about it. I labour and deliver at home. I hope to do it pain-med free. I hope to not bleed a lot (like, no hemorrhaging like with Elijah.) I hope to not tear as badly. I hope to protect my baby from unwanted baby-holders at church. I hope to breastfeed. I hope to not get mastitis. I hope this baby has hair. I hope Elijah doesn't beat on this little one. I hope he learns to give her kisses and love her.
I am so excited, but it still seems so abstract.
I wonder what she'll look like? I have a feeling she'll look like Elijah, with dark hair and little, dark eyes that barely have a blue tint to them for all of a day, and then go murky brown like Elijah's did. At the same time, I had a dream before I ever got pregnant with this little girl. I dreamt that I gave birth to a baby girl (painlessly and standing up, no less!) and that the name we've had picked out for 1.5 years now was the name we gave our new daughter. I just took one look at her and said aloud, "Well of course your name is ________! How could it be anything else?" and she was blonde with blue eyes. But then later in my dream she was a young girl about 4 years old, and she had sweet, straight, shoulder-length red hair. She was the prettiest thing. I wonder if that was just my imagination, or not? Is that what my daughter will look like? Matt's eyes are not brown like mine, so I secretly hope that one of our children will have his green eyes rather than my brown ones (even though it's actually one of the things I love most about Elijah. He wears his eyes better than I do.)
Anyway, this is starting to become a rambler, which is a sign to wrap it up. I want to be in bed before 10pm tonight anyway.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Rage issues
Seriously, it's getting to be a little nuts in our household. I feel so unpredictable, like a ticking timebomb, and poor Matthew and Elijah can't keep up.
Today's first grievance? Flies. I really really REALLY can't stand them. People say it's because we live in the country, but they have NOT been this bad all summer. I think it's just because the weather is getting cooler, so it's warmer inside, and smells better too. There are ALWAYS 2 or 3 flies in the van at one time though, and they won't fly out the window or door when it's open, because it gets instantly cooler. So we always have flies in the van, buzzing in front of my face at random times when I'm driving and throwing me into random fits of flailing, swatting rage. And every now and then I have to give it a good "AAAARGH!" and then immediately reassure Elijah that it's not him, it's the flies. Because the poor kid probably think he's either in trouble or that his mommy is insane. The insane part is probably a little true lately.
Because the biggest grievance of today just occurred, and I was nuts. NUTS I tell you.
See, I've been trying to learn to crochet. Okay, I won't be falsely modest, I HAVE been crocheting, and I'm pretty proud of the 2 granny squares I made, especially as the 2nd one turned out to actually BE a square.
But here's the thing. I'm learning from some youtube videos, which is GREAT, except for when Matt is playing his new Red Faction game in the background, which involves shouting, gunshots galore, some swearing, and just general tenseness. See, at times I couldn't hear the video, so I'd snap or whimper because of that (don't even get me started on how pathetic this is. I know it. Really.) and then sometimes, when I was feeling particularly tense about it all, I'd either turn around and glare at Matt, or give off another arg. It was childish. SO childish.
But really, it wasn't that bad or childish until my video stopped, I packed up my stuff, and tried to focus on something other than crocheting. And then I realized that these noises and this video game were consuming every single little part of me, and the feeling in my chest just grew. I don't know how to explain it, except that I felt this enormous tension in my chest that would not go away until the game was paused, and even then I was all mad and contentious so it's wouldn't totally go away. It was like a serious loss of the spirit, or akin to what I imagine people with Asperger's Syndrome experience when they are being audibly distracted. It was impossibly to think of anything else.
So I got Matt to find me his headphones, and I'm now listening to music that I'm picking carefully to soothe me and calm me down. It's working, but at times it's making this post a little disjointed and probably, as I'll discover after-the-fact, ungrammatical. Oh well. Now you know why I'm repeating myself, running in circles, and not fixing spelling mistakes.
On the upside, I'm learning firsthand what music puts me in a calm and happy place, which is good to know, because I had thought beforehand that there wasn't any music I'd like to listen to when I'm in labour, or struggling and stressed, or whatever. But apparently there is! Here's what's on my list so far:
-Bridge Over Troubled Water, Sound of Silence, The Boxer, and America by Simon and Garfunkel
-Desperado, by the Eagles
-The Freshmen by the Verve Pipe
-Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley
-Hey Jude from Across the Universe
-Slipping Through My Fingers from the Mamma Mia movie
-The Call by Regina Spektor (Narnia soundtrack)
(interrupting this list to note the fact that it's really hard to not sing along to the songs with headphones on. People always sound terrible singing along to music no-one else can hear but them, so I won't do it. :)
I think that's it for now, actually, but I'm trying to keep my mind open to a birth song. Okay, call it crazy, whatever you want, but I kind of like the idea of there being a particular song that is playing when Baby Girl is born. I've heard of this before, and I think it sounds...special. I don't know how to describe while actually listening to music, but imagine it. You're in labour, you're pushing, it feels like it'll last forever, and then someone puts on this song, and you know it's THE song, and you realize how close you actually are, that your baby is about to be born, you're about to meet her, and then out she comes, and she's placed on your chest while this favourite, beautiful song is playing that will always and forever make you think of that special moment. I think I would cry. But, I recognize that, like many good ideas, it might actually be more pleasant in theory than in practice. Kind of like hosting your family for a holiday meal. (True story.)
I'm listening to the Freshmen right now. I love this song, but I'm thinking I don't want to hear it in labour. While the story behind the song doesn't apply to me (singer's girlfriend decided to get an abortion which he didn't want) I feel like it might remind me of babies dying, which I don't need to think about. Oh, but I love this song.
Let's see how much more random I can make this.
Yesterday I had a midwives appointment, and everything is looking good. Baby Girl's HR was 140 or so, nice accelerations, measuring 37.5 weeks, blood pressure was the highest it's been yet, but still a good reading at 122/78 (usually it's about 110/60.) Apparently I'm GBS-'ve, so yay. We went over my birthplan, and the MW, Kr this time, said that she really likes it, and how 1/2 of it is just tips for what might work to help me in labour.
Gosh I really hope Kr is the one on call when I'm in labour. She's great.
I'm getting really sleeping. I'm going to end this now.
***I COULD go back and fix the typos, but I find it really funny, in hindsight, how I wrote that I'm "getting really sleeping." Why change the very proof of my tiredness? ***
Today's first grievance? Flies. I really really REALLY can't stand them. People say it's because we live in the country, but they have NOT been this bad all summer. I think it's just because the weather is getting cooler, so it's warmer inside, and smells better too. There are ALWAYS 2 or 3 flies in the van at one time though, and they won't fly out the window or door when it's open, because it gets instantly cooler. So we always have flies in the van, buzzing in front of my face at random times when I'm driving and throwing me into random fits of flailing, swatting rage. And every now and then I have to give it a good "AAAARGH!" and then immediately reassure Elijah that it's not him, it's the flies. Because the poor kid probably think he's either in trouble or that his mommy is insane. The insane part is probably a little true lately.
Because the biggest grievance of today just occurred, and I was nuts. NUTS I tell you.
See, I've been trying to learn to crochet. Okay, I won't be falsely modest, I HAVE been crocheting, and I'm pretty proud of the 2 granny squares I made, especially as the 2nd one turned out to actually BE a square.
But here's the thing. I'm learning from some youtube videos, which is GREAT, except for when Matt is playing his new Red Faction game in the background, which involves shouting, gunshots galore, some swearing, and just general tenseness. See, at times I couldn't hear the video, so I'd snap or whimper because of that (don't even get me started on how pathetic this is. I know it. Really.) and then sometimes, when I was feeling particularly tense about it all, I'd either turn around and glare at Matt, or give off another arg. It was childish. SO childish.
But really, it wasn't that bad or childish until my video stopped, I packed up my stuff, and tried to focus on something other than crocheting. And then I realized that these noises and this video game were consuming every single little part of me, and the feeling in my chest just grew. I don't know how to explain it, except that I felt this enormous tension in my chest that would not go away until the game was paused, and even then I was all mad and contentious so it's wouldn't totally go away. It was like a serious loss of the spirit, or akin to what I imagine people with Asperger's Syndrome experience when they are being audibly distracted. It was impossibly to think of anything else.
So I got Matt to find me his headphones, and I'm now listening to music that I'm picking carefully to soothe me and calm me down. It's working, but at times it's making this post a little disjointed and probably, as I'll discover after-the-fact, ungrammatical. Oh well. Now you know why I'm repeating myself, running in circles, and not fixing spelling mistakes.
On the upside, I'm learning firsthand what music puts me in a calm and happy place, which is good to know, because I had thought beforehand that there wasn't any music I'd like to listen to when I'm in labour, or struggling and stressed, or whatever. But apparently there is! Here's what's on my list so far:
-Bridge Over Troubled Water, Sound of Silence, The Boxer, and America by Simon and Garfunkel
-Desperado, by the Eagles
-The Freshmen by the Verve Pipe
-Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley
-Hey Jude from Across the Universe
-Slipping Through My Fingers from the Mamma Mia movie
-The Call by Regina Spektor (Narnia soundtrack)
(interrupting this list to note the fact that it's really hard to not sing along to the songs with headphones on. People always sound terrible singing along to music no-one else can hear but them, so I won't do it. :)
I think that's it for now, actually, but I'm trying to keep my mind open to a birth song. Okay, call it crazy, whatever you want, but I kind of like the idea of there being a particular song that is playing when Baby Girl is born. I've heard of this before, and I think it sounds...special. I don't know how to describe while actually listening to music, but imagine it. You're in labour, you're pushing, it feels like it'll last forever, and then someone puts on this song, and you know it's THE song, and you realize how close you actually are, that your baby is about to be born, you're about to meet her, and then out she comes, and she's placed on your chest while this favourite, beautiful song is playing that will always and forever make you think of that special moment. I think I would cry. But, I recognize that, like many good ideas, it might actually be more pleasant in theory than in practice. Kind of like hosting your family for a holiday meal. (True story.)
I'm listening to the Freshmen right now. I love this song, but I'm thinking I don't want to hear it in labour. While the story behind the song doesn't apply to me (singer's girlfriend decided to get an abortion which he didn't want) I feel like it might remind me of babies dying, which I don't need to think about. Oh, but I love this song.
Let's see how much more random I can make this.
Yesterday I had a midwives appointment, and everything is looking good. Baby Girl's HR was 140 or so, nice accelerations, measuring 37.5 weeks, blood pressure was the highest it's been yet, but still a good reading at 122/78 (usually it's about 110/60.) Apparently I'm GBS-'ve, so yay. We went over my birthplan, and the MW, Kr this time, said that she really likes it, and how 1/2 of it is just tips for what might work to help me in labour.
Gosh I really hope Kr is the one on call when I'm in labour. She's great.
I'm getting really sleeping. I'm going to end this now.
***I COULD go back and fix the typos, but I find it really funny, in hindsight, how I wrote that I'm "getting really sleeping." Why change the very proof of my tiredness? ***
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
37w0d - A.K.A. Full term!
How Far Along: 37w0d
Weight Gain: 22-23 lb's
Maternity Clothes: Yep, and I'm starting to feel anxious about putting them away when I'm overweight to begin with and will still LOOK pregnant. But most of my mat clothes tend to 'show off' the belly, or accentuate it, and I don't want that once I'm not actually pregnant.
Symptoms: Random contractions, BH contractions, pain from Baby Girl moving around, peeing all the time, sciatic pain, stuffy nose.
Stretch Marks: I added this one back just for this week, because I realized that I deleted it because there was no change, and now there's been change. I do have some new stretch marks that are pretty much just continuations of the ones I got from being pregnant with Elijah. The ones from Eli are pretty white still, and these are purplish, but only 1-2" long, and only on my belly and the front of my hips (where my legs meet my torso.)
Sleep: On the one hand, I've been falling asleep really easily, practically anywhere, even with background noise and lights on, which I'm not usually able to do. My body just wants sleep so much! On the other hand, waking up every 2 hours to pee, Elijah going through a bout of crying intermittently throughout the night, sciatic pain and Baby Girl kicking in the ribs, and Elijah waking up on and off after 6am has made sleep really difficult.
Best Moment of the Week: Packing Baby Girl's "hospital bag" in my new diaper bag, and gathering all of the potential home birth supplies yesterday. Moving downstairs over the weekend, and finally setting up Little Girl's space!
Movement: Yes, and it's starting to hurt so much! The kicks aren't hurting so much as the burrowing is hurting.
Food cravings: Milk, Rolos, Wendy's 1/4 lb single meal with a chocolate frostie
Gender: A girl!
What I Miss: Sleeping in, but that's not pregnancy-related, that's just having kids related. When I was pregnant with Elijah I would sleep in until 9am most days, and after having him I was able to sleep until 10am every morning for months before Matt decided to stop working from home for that time and force me to get up earlier. I know it was a change that needed to happen, but I seriously miss sleeping as long as my body wants to, and it's about to get even harder to do so!
What I’m Looking Forward To: Going into labour. Really, my due date is a milestone and something to 'look forward to' I suppose, but only because it's some sort of indicator that labour is impending, so really, I'm just looking forward to labour, and stuff finally happening!
Milestones: 37 weeks, also known as 'full term'! The baby could be born any day now and not be considered premature. The chances are good that she'd be perfectly fine, with perhaps some trouble nursing, but still. It's a big deal. Also, now if I were to go into labour I could deliver at home.
Emotions: Ancy. I want to do stuff, but there isn't much to do, and I'm so tired that it's hard to have the energy to do the things that I want anyway.
Belly Photo: One from the side, and one from the front this time.
I thought I'd be really excited to get to 37 weeks. Yesterday I was SO excited that today marked full-term, but today I don't feel too much excitement about it, surprisingly. I feel like saying, "So what? The baby isn't here yet, so what does it matter how far along I am?"
And then I think, "Uh oh. Here comes the pregnancy disinterestedness." You know, when I go to my appointments and have nothing to say, because nothing I tell them about how I'm feeling will actually mean labour unless I...well...go into labour. What's the point in reading into and analyzing everything, when I continue being pregnant day after day?
WOW that was depressing, huh? I think it's just the mood I'm in at the moment. Mostly I don't feel this way, I just feel excessively tired right now, and I had a stupid dream before waking up. In the dream I had gone to the bathroom the day I turned 37w0d, and I discovered I had lost my mucous plug. I was SO excited, because even though in waking life I know that it doesn't signify labour, in my dream it did, and I knew it was just a matter of days before it happened. THEN I woke up to Elijah crying and I was really bummed.
Anyway, I probably shouldn't write blog posts when I feel this tired.
I think I'll finish this up and work on the dishes. I'm hoping to make a meal today that I can freeze for when Baby Girl is born. Maybe there'll even be leftovers so that I can surprise Matt with having made dinner today.
So yeah! That's where things stand at 37w0d. Nursery is set up, supplies gathered, making freezer meals, tired and done, and all that I have left that I actually *need* to prepare is my own hospital bag.
Oh my goodness, I think I need a nap.
Weight Gain: 22-23 lb's
Maternity Clothes: Yep, and I'm starting to feel anxious about putting them away when I'm overweight to begin with and will still LOOK pregnant. But most of my mat clothes tend to 'show off' the belly, or accentuate it, and I don't want that once I'm not actually pregnant.
Symptoms: Random contractions, BH contractions, pain from Baby Girl moving around, peeing all the time, sciatic pain, stuffy nose.
Stretch Marks: I added this one back just for this week, because I realized that I deleted it because there was no change, and now there's been change. I do have some new stretch marks that are pretty much just continuations of the ones I got from being pregnant with Elijah. The ones from Eli are pretty white still, and these are purplish, but only 1-2" long, and only on my belly and the front of my hips (where my legs meet my torso.)
Sleep: On the one hand, I've been falling asleep really easily, practically anywhere, even with background noise and lights on, which I'm not usually able to do. My body just wants sleep so much! On the other hand, waking up every 2 hours to pee, Elijah going through a bout of crying intermittently throughout the night, sciatic pain and Baby Girl kicking in the ribs, and Elijah waking up on and off after 6am has made sleep really difficult.
Best Moment of the Week: Packing Baby Girl's "hospital bag" in my new diaper bag, and gathering all of the potential home birth supplies yesterday. Moving downstairs over the weekend, and finally setting up Little Girl's space!
Movement: Yes, and it's starting to hurt so much! The kicks aren't hurting so much as the burrowing is hurting.
Food cravings: Milk, Rolos, Wendy's 1/4 lb single meal with a chocolate frostie
Gender: A girl!
What I Miss: Sleeping in, but that's not pregnancy-related, that's just having kids related. When I was pregnant with Elijah I would sleep in until 9am most days, and after having him I was able to sleep until 10am every morning for months before Matt decided to stop working from home for that time and force me to get up earlier. I know it was a change that needed to happen, but I seriously miss sleeping as long as my body wants to, and it's about to get even harder to do so!
What I’m Looking Forward To: Going into labour. Really, my due date is a milestone and something to 'look forward to' I suppose, but only because it's some sort of indicator that labour is impending, so really, I'm just looking forward to labour, and stuff finally happening!
Milestones: 37 weeks, also known as 'full term'! The baby could be born any day now and not be considered premature. The chances are good that she'd be perfectly fine, with perhaps some trouble nursing, but still. It's a big deal. Also, now if I were to go into labour I could deliver at home.
Emotions: Ancy. I want to do stuff, but there isn't much to do, and I'm so tired that it's hard to have the energy to do the things that I want anyway.
Belly Photo: One from the side, and one from the front this time.
I thought I'd be really excited to get to 37 weeks. Yesterday I was SO excited that today marked full-term, but today I don't feel too much excitement about it, surprisingly. I feel like saying, "So what? The baby isn't here yet, so what does it matter how far along I am?"And then I think, "Uh oh. Here comes the pregnancy disinterestedness." You know, when I go to my appointments and have nothing to say, because nothing I tell them about how I'm feeling will actually mean labour unless I...well...go into labour. What's the point in reading into and analyzing everything, when I continue being pregnant day after day?
WOW that was depressing, huh? I think it's just the mood I'm in at the moment. Mostly I don't feel this way, I just feel excessively tired right now, and I had a stupid dream before waking up. In the dream I had gone to the bathroom the day I turned 37w0d, and I discovered I had lost my mucous plug. I was SO excited, because even though in waking life I know that it doesn't signify labour, in my dream it did, and I knew it was just a matter of days before it happened. THEN I woke up to Elijah crying and I was really bummed.
Anyway, I probably shouldn't write blog posts when I feel this tired.
I think I'll finish this up and work on the dishes. I'm hoping to make a meal today that I can freeze for when Baby Girl is born. Maybe there'll even be leftovers so that I can surprise Matt with having made dinner today.
So yeah! That's where things stand at 37w0d. Nursery is set up, supplies gathered, making freezer meals, tired and done, and all that I have left that I actually *need* to prepare is my own hospital bag.
Oh my goodness, I think I need a nap.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Blimped Out and Darn Right About It
I'm not even close to exaggerating when I say that I had at least 10 comments yesterday from people at church as to how I'm "all of a sudden" showing, how I "popped overnight," how quickly this pregnancy has gone, and then a ton of random comments and questions as to when my due date is.
I suppose wearing my one maternity dress is like posting a "Take Notice" note on the bulletin.
Here I am in the dress at 20 weeks pregnant:
[caption id="attachment_1042" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="(to the bride's right, self-consciously being that annoying pregnant woman who shows off her belly in photos. Really not trying to, but hey, what was I suppose to do with my hands? Oh, something natural, like everyone else? Natural doesn't come....naturally to me. I'm weird like that.)"]
[/caption]
So yeah, I've worn this dress maybe 3 times, and not in the last 3 months. I saw this picture Sunday morning and decided I'd wear it that day because, hey, I've only got 5 weeks left IF I go almost 2 weeks overdue. I've got to get my money's worth out of it!
So here's a 36w4d belly photo in the dress, and one not in the dress, for comparison:
HOLY MOLY! It's actually quite laughable, how ridiculously huge I look in this dress. Mostly (as in, 99.9% of the time) I'm wearing the more form-fitting mat clothes, especially with the ruching down the sides, because most other mat tops make me look too blimpy. Like this dress, apparently!
So no-one really realized how far along I was until I wore this on Sunday. And just another comparison for good measure:
Oh, and because I think it's cute and funny, Matt was in awe yesterday that the belly is now bigger than a basketball. How can he tell? Because you can palm a basketball, but there's no palming this belly.
So I realized something last night. I was thinking back to some of the comments made, or rather, one in particular, which involved an old lady bluntly telling me, with her eyes wide and her tone so decidedly resolute, that I hadn't dropped yet.
(as an aside, what a ridiculous phrase! Dropped? As in dropped dead? Why no, no I haven't, good for you for noticing! All these taboo words when you could just say the baby hasn't engaged yet. Is the pelvis too sexual a body part to discuss so openly that I'm told **I** haven't dropped, when really it's the baby who drops? Or engages???)
I think I took it well. I said, "Well, she keeps engaging and disengaging, but you're right, at this point, I feel distinctly like she is NOT engaged. At least, that's what my lungs are telling me."
So here was the realization.
I always said that I would never claim to be an expert on pregnancy simply because I've experienced it before. It would drive me nuts when people would assume that they knew everything, because THEIR body responded to pregnancy a certain way, and therefore every other women would experience the same thing. I would get so mad!
And now? I totally act like an expert. What a hypocrite I am!
So I got to thinking about this and why it may be, and I came up with a few answers.
1) I can't stand uneducated-ness. Not that I'm judging the old lady, because they knew so little about their bodies and how they worked back in the day, but women generally don't "drop" weeks before delivery with 2nd or more babies. It is absolutely no indicator of anything. The baby doesn't generally engage in the pelvis until a few days before, or for some women, in labour itself. I've also recently learned the little interesting piece of information about a baby engaging and disengaging repeatedly (and have experienced my fair share of this today alone.) I know when I speak all technically it sounds like I'm trying to be some medical expert, but I like knowing things, and when I know things, I apply them. And it bothers me when people push me around like they know everything and are so clearly wrong or behind the times. Like this lady. It made me feel like she was bossing me around, and she was so old and wise and had had 6 kids so she knew everything. So I got defensive. I basically said back, "Nope, no dropping here, got a problem with that?" And yeah, I might have felt a little prideful, that it was really ME that knew more, not her.
So there's example #1 of my snobby, I'm-a-pregnancy-expert-now attitude.
2) It pains me to hear of people experiencing pregnancy who really don't understand what is going on. Not necessarily in a snobby way, either. I just feel like, if I know something that you don't, you should know it too. Like, my one close girlfriend lost her mucous plug at 33 weeks, called me to see if I could remember the MW's pager number, and told me the situation. She was worried about it and what it might mean. So I told her that losing a mucous plug could mean that her cervix is dilating, but that unless it's accompanied by other symptoms (eg - contractions, fluid, etc) then it's not a cause for concern. Also, she didn't know that the mucous plug can grow back. She felt considerably better after learning that, and I was glad to help. I didn't discourage her from calling the midwives AT ALL, I just told her what I knew, and left it to her.
3) I always swore I wouldn't be a pregnancy expert just because I've been pregnant before, and I think that mostly I'm not. I recognize that my experience was my own, and someone else might experience something different. Generally, though, what I'm a snob (or hypocrite) about is the stuff that I learned through reading and research as a result of being pregnant. I don't take my experiences and impose them on every pregnant person, but I do take what I've learned to be generally true about pregnancy and help others to know it too (sometimes in more direct ways than an on-the-side conversation...haha)
So there. I'm a hypocrite. Or really, just a girl who finds pregnancy very exciting and interesting and so has studied it a lot and is passionate about the topic and so has much to say about it.
Anyway, that's my ramble for the day.
And now, just because he's cute, here are a couple of pictures of Elijah from this morning. As in, before the nap that was too short and the hours of fussiness afterwards.
Ohh how I love this little guy. The fussiness came with extra cuddles, so he made up for the rough afternoon. :-)
I suppose wearing my one maternity dress is like posting a "Take Notice" note on the bulletin.
Here I am in the dress at 20 weeks pregnant:
[caption id="attachment_1042" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="(to the bride's right, self-consciously being that annoying pregnant woman who shows off her belly in photos. Really not trying to, but hey, what was I suppose to do with my hands? Oh, something natural, like everyone else? Natural doesn't come....naturally to me. I'm weird like that.)"]
[/caption]So yeah, I've worn this dress maybe 3 times, and not in the last 3 months. I saw this picture Sunday morning and decided I'd wear it that day because, hey, I've only got 5 weeks left IF I go almost 2 weeks overdue. I've got to get my money's worth out of it!
So here's a 36w4d belly photo in the dress, and one not in the dress, for comparison:
HOLY MOLY! It's actually quite laughable, how ridiculously huge I look in this dress. Mostly (as in, 99.9% of the time) I'm wearing the more form-fitting mat clothes, especially with the ruching down the sides, because most other mat tops make me look too blimpy. Like this dress, apparently!So no-one really realized how far along I was until I wore this on Sunday. And just another comparison for good measure:
Oh, and because I think it's cute and funny, Matt was in awe yesterday that the belly is now bigger than a basketball. How can he tell? Because you can palm a basketball, but there's no palming this belly.So I realized something last night. I was thinking back to some of the comments made, or rather, one in particular, which involved an old lady bluntly telling me, with her eyes wide and her tone so decidedly resolute, that I hadn't dropped yet.
(as an aside, what a ridiculous phrase! Dropped? As in dropped dead? Why no, no I haven't, good for you for noticing! All these taboo words when you could just say the baby hasn't engaged yet. Is the pelvis too sexual a body part to discuss so openly that I'm told **I** haven't dropped, when really it's the baby who drops? Or engages???)
I think I took it well. I said, "Well, she keeps engaging and disengaging, but you're right, at this point, I feel distinctly like she is NOT engaged. At least, that's what my lungs are telling me."
So here was the realization.
I always said that I would never claim to be an expert on pregnancy simply because I've experienced it before. It would drive me nuts when people would assume that they knew everything, because THEIR body responded to pregnancy a certain way, and therefore every other women would experience the same thing. I would get so mad!
And now? I totally act like an expert. What a hypocrite I am!
So I got to thinking about this and why it may be, and I came up with a few answers.
1) I can't stand uneducated-ness. Not that I'm judging the old lady, because they knew so little about their bodies and how they worked back in the day, but women generally don't "drop" weeks before delivery with 2nd or more babies. It is absolutely no indicator of anything. The baby doesn't generally engage in the pelvis until a few days before, or for some women, in labour itself. I've also recently learned the little interesting piece of information about a baby engaging and disengaging repeatedly (and have experienced my fair share of this today alone.) I know when I speak all technically it sounds like I'm trying to be some medical expert, but I like knowing things, and when I know things, I apply them. And it bothers me when people push me around like they know everything and are so clearly wrong or behind the times. Like this lady. It made me feel like she was bossing me around, and she was so old and wise and had had 6 kids so she knew everything. So I got defensive. I basically said back, "Nope, no dropping here, got a problem with that?" And yeah, I might have felt a little prideful, that it was really ME that knew more, not her.
So there's example #1 of my snobby, I'm-a-pregnancy-expert-now attitude.
2) It pains me to hear of people experiencing pregnancy who really don't understand what is going on. Not necessarily in a snobby way, either. I just feel like, if I know something that you don't, you should know it too. Like, my one close girlfriend lost her mucous plug at 33 weeks, called me to see if I could remember the MW's pager number, and told me the situation. She was worried about it and what it might mean. So I told her that losing a mucous plug could mean that her cervix is dilating, but that unless it's accompanied by other symptoms (eg - contractions, fluid, etc) then it's not a cause for concern. Also, she didn't know that the mucous plug can grow back. She felt considerably better after learning that, and I was glad to help. I didn't discourage her from calling the midwives AT ALL, I just told her what I knew, and left it to her.
3) I always swore I wouldn't be a pregnancy expert just because I've been pregnant before, and I think that mostly I'm not. I recognize that my experience was my own, and someone else might experience something different. Generally, though, what I'm a snob (or hypocrite) about is the stuff that I learned through reading and research as a result of being pregnant. I don't take my experiences and impose them on every pregnant person, but I do take what I've learned to be generally true about pregnancy and help others to know it too (sometimes in more direct ways than an on-the-side conversation...haha)
So there. I'm a hypocrite. Or really, just a girl who finds pregnancy very exciting and interesting and so has studied it a lot and is passionate about the topic and so has much to say about it.
Anyway, that's my ramble for the day.
And now, just because he's cute, here are a couple of pictures of Elijah from this morning. As in, before the nap that was too short and the hours of fussiness afterwards.
Ohh how I love this little guy. The fussiness came with extra cuddles, so he made up for the rough afternoon. :-)
Friday, September 9, 2011
Sooooo sore
Well, today was almost the longest day ever, but so good at the same time.
Why?
Because we finally moved downstairs!!! We have just a few little odds and ends upstairs (eg-xbox games, pictures to hang, some of Elijah's toys, towels for the bathroom...) but downstairs is done! Now we just need to work on tidying up and rearranging the upstairs, and then we can finally set up for Baby Girl! I can't tell you how excited that makes me.
Holy moly, though, today has been rough. I knew by 7pm that I had pushed myself too hard, and I'm hoping I'm hot hurting tomorrow because we're going to the zoo in the morning, but still, the stuff needed to be done, and I was on a roll. I would call it nesting, but in reality, when I start a cleaning job it drives me to keep on going until it's finished. Maybe it's OCD, but it really bothers me, leaving any part of it to finish until tomorrow. It feels so satisfying to finish a task!
So this morning I went with my MIL to look for a suitable t.v. stand. We managed to find one for a half-decent price ($299.) It's more than I wanted to pay originally, but we've been looking and looking on kijiji for a t.v. stand with glass doors and a frame around the glass, and no-one has them. Like, of 70 models that Sears sells, I'd say 5 have the glass doors we're looking for. So imagine trying to find that used...not happening. So we bought one new, and I love it.
Then we got home, I spent some time with Elijah, fed him lunch, and put him to bed. Then I immediately started working on bring the kitchen stuff downstairs and putting it away. Thankfully mum came along with a 2nd laundry basket, and was so fast at loading it up and bringing it down that I never had to do the 17-step flight more than once. As it was, I was still on my feet for 3 hours, putting stuff away, cleaning, etc. I wanted it done for when Matt got home from work, so that he'd be surprised and happy.
Also, dad offered to put together our t.v. stand, and that just made Matt's day. He hates assembling things like that, and it saved us so much time.
So all that was left tonight was bringing down the furniture and odds and ends, and setting up all things electronic. Also, I went to Walmart and bought a ton of child safety locks, and other things for the apartment.
I know, this is getting long and boring. I don't know how to properly express how sore my legs and back are, and how enormous my feet are right now. Holy water retention, Batman.
Anyway, I'm going to go now. I need a good nights sleep so badly.
Why?
Because we finally moved downstairs!!! We have just a few little odds and ends upstairs (eg-xbox games, pictures to hang, some of Elijah's toys, towels for the bathroom...) but downstairs is done! Now we just need to work on tidying up and rearranging the upstairs, and then we can finally set up for Baby Girl! I can't tell you how excited that makes me.
Holy moly, though, today has been rough. I knew by 7pm that I had pushed myself too hard, and I'm hoping I'm hot hurting tomorrow because we're going to the zoo in the morning, but still, the stuff needed to be done, and I was on a roll. I would call it nesting, but in reality, when I start a cleaning job it drives me to keep on going until it's finished. Maybe it's OCD, but it really bothers me, leaving any part of it to finish until tomorrow. It feels so satisfying to finish a task!
So this morning I went with my MIL to look for a suitable t.v. stand. We managed to find one for a half-decent price ($299.) It's more than I wanted to pay originally, but we've been looking and looking on kijiji for a t.v. stand with glass doors and a frame around the glass, and no-one has them. Like, of 70 models that Sears sells, I'd say 5 have the glass doors we're looking for. So imagine trying to find that used...not happening. So we bought one new, and I love it.
Then we got home, I spent some time with Elijah, fed him lunch, and put him to bed. Then I immediately started working on bring the kitchen stuff downstairs and putting it away. Thankfully mum came along with a 2nd laundry basket, and was so fast at loading it up and bringing it down that I never had to do the 17-step flight more than once. As it was, I was still on my feet for 3 hours, putting stuff away, cleaning, etc. I wanted it done for when Matt got home from work, so that he'd be surprised and happy.
Also, dad offered to put together our t.v. stand, and that just made Matt's day. He hates assembling things like that, and it saved us so much time.
So all that was left tonight was bringing down the furniture and odds and ends, and setting up all things electronic. Also, I went to Walmart and bought a ton of child safety locks, and other things for the apartment.
I know, this is getting long and boring. I don't know how to properly express how sore my legs and back are, and how enormous my feet are right now. Holy water retention, Batman.
Anyway, I'm going to go now. I need a good nights sleep so badly.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Mommy Guilt
I feel so frustrated with myself. Let me just say it now and be upfront about it.
I am addicted to the internet.
Not all aspects, but I have the things I like to do. They are:
-read blogs (as in, there are a couple blogs I go to that have their own blog lists, and so I read about 20 different blogs.)
-read Yahoo news articles
-check facebook
-check my email
-read posts on the pregnancy and parenting forum, The Bump
I don't even want to write down how much time I waste doing these things. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. And not just that, but multiple times a day. If I have a free moment? I check it all. Heck, even if I don't have a free moment, I still check it all.
I'm suffering because of it. I'm less intellectual, more negative, more bored and idle, more lazy, and have lower self-esteem. I don't learn much of value, and I get way too involved in reading other people's updates on their life, their pregnancies, and so on. It's really just pregnancy that I'm fixated on, because once these bloggers have their babies I find their blogs really boring. But yes, in so many ways, I suffer.
But do you know what's worse?
Elijah suffers.
Matt left to go home teaching, and I sat down on the computer around 6:50 or so. I kept glancing at the clock, thinking it was still a bit before Elijah's bedtime at 8pm, and I would get off once I was done X. Which became Y. Which became Z. Until I looked at the clock, and realized it was 7:45, and I hadn't paid him much attention (apart from when he came to me to help him put his shoe back on, or brought me things from the other room.)
So yes, it was 7:45, I hadn't played with him, and he still needed his snack. And Backyardigans was running in the background, and had been on for 2.5 hours.
I'm so sick of myself. What good mother does that? What good mother lets the t.v. run in the background for hours on end, and lets her child do what he wants while she just sits there on the computer reading about other people's lives?
I always say I have a hard time knowing how to play with Elijah, but the truth of it is, the only reason I find it hard or don't know how is because I've never bothered to LEARN how.
Elijah has bad days, and when I try to tell Matt about how upset Elijah was, his response is often, "Did you try playing with him?" and I say "Yes" because I tried handing him his train, or block, or book, or even snack, and I had it swatted away. But then Matt says, "I mean, get down on the floor, roar at him, chase him around, build a block tower, etc." and I know he's got me. Most of the time my mind doesn't even think to do those things.
I'm a terrible mom. I know it's true, even if other people deny it and say that I'm wonderful. That's because they don't see how lazy I am most of the day. And Elijah is suffering from it, not even counting the fact that he's so behind in his speech, and I could be helping with that, but instead I'm perpetuating it.
During his first year, I felt depressed. I know I did, but at the same time my bad parenting was magnified by my laziness which I refused to get over and excused with my depression.
Now though? I don't feel depressed. Tired and very pregnant, yes, but not depressed. I have no excuse.
Actually, when I look back Elijah's first year, I start to feel depressed all over again, but for much different reasons. Now I feel depressed that I spent so much time reading about pregnancy and wanting to be pregnant again that I didn't take the absolute best care of my beautiful baby who was the direct result of pregnancy.
I hate myself quite a bit for this, actually. I've cheated Elijah, and I've cheated myself. Instead of looking back at his baby pictures with joy, I look back with sorrow, that I missed that time, that I found it hard, and somewhere in all of it, my baby went from this:
To this:
[caption id="attachment_1034" align="aligncenter" width="300"]
(I feel like this is a glimpse how he'll look when he's 20)[/caption]
My baby is not a baby anymore. He's lost most traces of his baby-ness, and I have this beautiful, amazing toddler now. I love him so much. So very VERY much. I don't understand why my love for him doesn't win out. Why did I waste my time with the baby he was? Why do I waste my time with this little boy who is no longer a baby? What is wrong with me?
This is awful. I need to do something about it. I don't want to treat him like this anymore, and when I think of introducing a new baby to him, having to deal with TWO babies, Elijah having my attention further divided, this baby getting more attention than Elijah got, I feel an incredible amount of guilt and pain.
I need to do something about this. I need to change. I'm going to stop going on the computer. I'm going to stop reading blogs, with a very very small few exceptions. I'm going to stop logging into facebook. I guess I want to keep it mostly to announce when I have my baby, and then to post photos. But even that seems like a colossal waste of time right now. I could be doing so many other productive things, playing and nurturing Elijah the biggest of them.
I'm also going to stop going on the pregnancy forum, and yahoo news. I cut yahoo news out once before (but started reading it again in March when Japan had the huge earthquake and tsunami) and I'm sure I can do it again.
So here are my new rules:
-no Yahoo news.
-no The Bump.
-facebook is permissable ONCE a day only, for not longer than 20 minutes.
-The following blogs are acceptable: In Pursuit of Parenthood, Fruit Snacks, and Zero to Three in Forty Weeks.
I'll allow myself to check my email or message Matt back and forth, and I won't restrict it right now. Email gets boring really quickly, because I don't email many people on a regular basis.
So, that's the new rule. I WILL be a better mommy to Elijah, and BEFORE Abigail comes. His world is going to be turned upside down when she comes, and the fact that we're moving downstairs this week isn't going to help. He needs stability, love, and nurturing, and darnit, I'm going to give it to him. I WILL kick this. You hear me Satan? I know it's you, tempting me where I weak, and me being stupid and imperfect enough to give in, but this is where it stops. Right here, right now. Because I love my son more than any blog, facebook update, or pregnancy post, and he is worth more than that. He is worth dying for, and he WILL get the love and attention he needs to return to live with our Heavenly Father some day.
So there. (That seemed like an appropriate way to end that rant.)
I am addicted to the internet.
Not all aspects, but I have the things I like to do. They are:
-read blogs (as in, there are a couple blogs I go to that have their own blog lists, and so I read about 20 different blogs.)
-read Yahoo news articles
-check facebook
-check my email
-read posts on the pregnancy and parenting forum, The Bump
I don't even want to write down how much time I waste doing these things. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. And not just that, but multiple times a day. If I have a free moment? I check it all. Heck, even if I don't have a free moment, I still check it all.
I'm suffering because of it. I'm less intellectual, more negative, more bored and idle, more lazy, and have lower self-esteem. I don't learn much of value, and I get way too involved in reading other people's updates on their life, their pregnancies, and so on. It's really just pregnancy that I'm fixated on, because once these bloggers have their babies I find their blogs really boring. But yes, in so many ways, I suffer.
But do you know what's worse?
Elijah suffers.
Matt left to go home teaching, and I sat down on the computer around 6:50 or so. I kept glancing at the clock, thinking it was still a bit before Elijah's bedtime at 8pm, and I would get off once I was done X. Which became Y. Which became Z. Until I looked at the clock, and realized it was 7:45, and I hadn't paid him much attention (apart from when he came to me to help him put his shoe back on, or brought me things from the other room.)
So yes, it was 7:45, I hadn't played with him, and he still needed his snack. And Backyardigans was running in the background, and had been on for 2.5 hours.
I'm so sick of myself. What good mother does that? What good mother lets the t.v. run in the background for hours on end, and lets her child do what he wants while she just sits there on the computer reading about other people's lives?
I always say I have a hard time knowing how to play with Elijah, but the truth of it is, the only reason I find it hard or don't know how is because I've never bothered to LEARN how.
Elijah has bad days, and when I try to tell Matt about how upset Elijah was, his response is often, "Did you try playing with him?" and I say "Yes" because I tried handing him his train, or block, or book, or even snack, and I had it swatted away. But then Matt says, "I mean, get down on the floor, roar at him, chase him around, build a block tower, etc." and I know he's got me. Most of the time my mind doesn't even think to do those things.
I'm a terrible mom. I know it's true, even if other people deny it and say that I'm wonderful. That's because they don't see how lazy I am most of the day. And Elijah is suffering from it, not even counting the fact that he's so behind in his speech, and I could be helping with that, but instead I'm perpetuating it.
During his first year, I felt depressed. I know I did, but at the same time my bad parenting was magnified by my laziness which I refused to get over and excused with my depression.
Now though? I don't feel depressed. Tired and very pregnant, yes, but not depressed. I have no excuse.
Actually, when I look back Elijah's first year, I start to feel depressed all over again, but for much different reasons. Now I feel depressed that I spent so much time reading about pregnancy and wanting to be pregnant again that I didn't take the absolute best care of my beautiful baby who was the direct result of pregnancy.
I hate myself quite a bit for this, actually. I've cheated Elijah, and I've cheated myself. Instead of looking back at his baby pictures with joy, I look back with sorrow, that I missed that time, that I found it hard, and somewhere in all of it, my baby went from this:
To this:[caption id="attachment_1034" align="aligncenter" width="300"]
(I feel like this is a glimpse how he'll look when he's 20)[/caption]My baby is not a baby anymore. He's lost most traces of his baby-ness, and I have this beautiful, amazing toddler now. I love him so much. So very VERY much. I don't understand why my love for him doesn't win out. Why did I waste my time with the baby he was? Why do I waste my time with this little boy who is no longer a baby? What is wrong with me?
This is awful. I need to do something about it. I don't want to treat him like this anymore, and when I think of introducing a new baby to him, having to deal with TWO babies, Elijah having my attention further divided, this baby getting more attention than Elijah got, I feel an incredible amount of guilt and pain.
I need to do something about this. I need to change. I'm going to stop going on the computer. I'm going to stop reading blogs, with a very very small few exceptions. I'm going to stop logging into facebook. I guess I want to keep it mostly to announce when I have my baby, and then to post photos. But even that seems like a colossal waste of time right now. I could be doing so many other productive things, playing and nurturing Elijah the biggest of them.
I'm also going to stop going on the pregnancy forum, and yahoo news. I cut yahoo news out once before (but started reading it again in March when Japan had the huge earthquake and tsunami) and I'm sure I can do it again.
So here are my new rules:
-no Yahoo news.
-no The Bump.
-facebook is permissable ONCE a day only, for not longer than 20 minutes.
-The following blogs are acceptable: In Pursuit of Parenthood, Fruit Snacks, and Zero to Three in Forty Weeks.
I'll allow myself to check my email or message Matt back and forth, and I won't restrict it right now. Email gets boring really quickly, because I don't email many people on a regular basis.
So, that's the new rule. I WILL be a better mommy to Elijah, and BEFORE Abigail comes. His world is going to be turned upside down when she comes, and the fact that we're moving downstairs this week isn't going to help. He needs stability, love, and nurturing, and darnit, I'm going to give it to him. I WILL kick this. You hear me Satan? I know it's you, tempting me where I weak, and me being stupid and imperfect enough to give in, but this is where it stops. Right here, right now. Because I love my son more than any blog, facebook update, or pregnancy post, and he is worth more than that. He is worth dying for, and he WILL get the love and attention he needs to return to live with our Heavenly Father some day.
So there. (That seemed like an appropriate way to end that rant.)
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
36w0d
How Far Along: 36w0d
Weight Gain: 21 lb's
Maternity Clothes: Meh, what's there to say about them?
Symptoms: Flashes of pain in my lower stomach, which I think are from Baby Girl engaging occasionally. Also, very tired, trouble sleeping (joints are aching) swelling feet, and the usual stuffy nose.
Sleep: Rolling over all the time to get comfy again. Luckily for me, I've been snoring so Matt has been sleeping on the floor! Hahaha, I know that sounds bad, but I'm not complaining about having the bed to myself, and he doesn't mind the floor.
Best Moment of the Week: Hmm...not sure. Monday night with the fam was pretty great, and my MW appointment yesterday was good, in spite of Elijah's antics.
Movement: Yes, and she's been targeting my ribs at night! Also, it's funny because, with Elijah, when he would poke a limb out, I would push there and it would pop right back in, but this little girl keeps it out and just moves to a different place. Stubborn little thing already! Really, it's probably just because of how she's facing (sideways) versus how Elijah was facing (anterior) so she has more strength to keep her legs stretched out, but it's kind of funny to think of it in terms of personalities. :)
Food cravings: Hmmm. I know there are some. Let me think...oh, well there's bacon-wrapped water chestnuts for one, and brownies with walnuts for two. Milk has been a big hit lately as well.
Gender: A girl!
What I Miss: My house. I don't actually miss the house, I just miss the space. I'm realizing more and more how difficult it's going to be, living here with a new baby, or really just with two kids on different sleep schedules. How on earth are we going to do it?
What I’m Looking Forward To: Full term next week, and moving downstairs this week.
Milestones: I don't know. Every week feels like a milestone now, with 36 weeks being the least exceptional, but still momentous, you know? I guess it marks the start of every-week appointments.
Emotions: Ohh have I ever been cranky lately. I feel so bad, it passes so quickly for me and leaves Matt reeling in my wake. He doesn't have the benefit of hormones to help him recover as quickly as he gets upset. I'm also starting to feel really excited, but it's always a little clouded by disbelief.
Belly Photo: I managed to take one today before Elijah's naptime! Woo hoo!
I feel not that big at all, but there's actually a noticeable difference between this photo and two weeks ago. Like my belly is "outer" and lower. Also, I'm fully aware that my belly is going to get bigger and bigger and ridiculously bigger until delivery, so we'll see what the final photo looks like. I might be full term next week, but I am by no means done.
And now I must finish this, as I resolved that I would not be on the computer a minute past 10am, and it's 9:59, so off I go!
Weight Gain: 21 lb's
Maternity Clothes: Meh, what's there to say about them?
Symptoms: Flashes of pain in my lower stomach, which I think are from Baby Girl engaging occasionally. Also, very tired, trouble sleeping (joints are aching) swelling feet, and the usual stuffy nose.
Sleep: Rolling over all the time to get comfy again. Luckily for me, I've been snoring so Matt has been sleeping on the floor! Hahaha, I know that sounds bad, but I'm not complaining about having the bed to myself, and he doesn't mind the floor.
Best Moment of the Week: Hmm...not sure. Monday night with the fam was pretty great, and my MW appointment yesterday was good, in spite of Elijah's antics.
Movement: Yes, and she's been targeting my ribs at night! Also, it's funny because, with Elijah, when he would poke a limb out, I would push there and it would pop right back in, but this little girl keeps it out and just moves to a different place. Stubborn little thing already! Really, it's probably just because of how she's facing (sideways) versus how Elijah was facing (anterior) so she has more strength to keep her legs stretched out, but it's kind of funny to think of it in terms of personalities. :)
Food cravings: Hmmm. I know there are some. Let me think...oh, well there's bacon-wrapped water chestnuts for one, and brownies with walnuts for two. Milk has been a big hit lately as well.
Gender: A girl!
What I Miss: My house. I don't actually miss the house, I just miss the space. I'm realizing more and more how difficult it's going to be, living here with a new baby, or really just with two kids on different sleep schedules. How on earth are we going to do it?
What I’m Looking Forward To: Full term next week, and moving downstairs this week.
Milestones: I don't know. Every week feels like a milestone now, with 36 weeks being the least exceptional, but still momentous, you know? I guess it marks the start of every-week appointments.
Emotions: Ohh have I ever been cranky lately. I feel so bad, it passes so quickly for me and leaves Matt reeling in my wake. He doesn't have the benefit of hormones to help him recover as quickly as he gets upset. I'm also starting to feel really excited, but it's always a little clouded by disbelief.
Belly Photo: I managed to take one today before Elijah's naptime! Woo hoo!
I feel not that big at all, but there's actually a noticeable difference between this photo and two weeks ago. Like my belly is "outer" and lower. Also, I'm fully aware that my belly is going to get bigger and bigger and ridiculously bigger until delivery, so we'll see what the final photo looks like. I might be full term next week, but I am by no means done.And now I must finish this, as I resolved that I would not be on the computer a minute past 10am, and it's 9:59, so off I go!
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Midwife Appointment and the "Plan"
As the title of my post so clearly states, I had a midwives appointment today. Everything checkout out well, apparently I'm measuring 37 weeks, which I don't really believe because it felt like she started the measuring tape lower than usual. But still, on track. Baby Girl's HR was around 130, she's head-down and starting to engage a little, her back is down my left side (so neither posterior nor anterior) and she's been kicking and stretching her feet out straight towards my right side.
One thing we talked about at my appointment was my tentative birth plan. My motivation for having it ready to go for this particular appointment was that, then I could bring it up and in a passively aggressive way I could address some of the concerns that I have with this particular midwife.
Some back story. I wrote a bit about it in my post from when Elijah was born, but basically, she was the midwife who delivered Elijah (I have a team of 3, and they take turns being on call for a week at a time.) At the time, there were things that I wasn't happy with, but tried to overlook because, in the end, my baby was here and he was safe and sound.
But being pregnant again and going through the same midwives has forced me to re-evaluate the whole experience and come to terms with my feelings towards this midwife. I feel like this is an essential thing for me to do, or else I won't be able to relax when I'm in labour, and she's really the only one who I don't have a say about being there or not, so I need to be okay with her being around.
One problem that I've been facing lately is whether or not to talk to her about it. As Matt pointed out, would I be telling her about how I feel just to vent my frustrations, or would I be telling her how I feel because she would take what I was telling her and act differently this time? And if she wouldn't act differently, then would it really be worth it to put that strain on the relationship?
So I thought about this long and hard, and opted for a more passive-aggressive way to go about it. I wrote out my birth plan, and went over it at today's appointment, and as a way of addressing my concerns, I said how I wanted things to go this time.
Here are some examples:
- MW to be there when decisions are made, even if I'm under the care of a doctor at that point (hearkening back to when I had to request that KL come in and explain to me why the nurses were saying I needed Oxytocin all of a sudden.)
-Redirection - instead of saying "Don't scream" (which was all KL would tell me), say, "Trying making this sound instead..."
-Explain logic behind suggestions. Like, if I'm going to be made to walk all the way to L & D, at least tell me why I'm not being carted along in a wheel chair and taking the elevator. Because honestly, I was so mad at KL for that one! And I thought she was being really insensitive later on, suggesting that I go for another walk or try going to the bathroom before I got my epidural. I didn't realize until after-the-fact that those things would have helped to progress labour, even if it hurt.
Those are only a few points, but it felt good to get it out of the way.
Do you know what felt even better though?
Finding out that KL is only on call the week before my due date! WOO HOO! So now KL is on call from Sept. 26 to Oct. 3, KR is on call the next week, then ML, then KR again. So as long as I don't go early, I won't have to worry about it at all! Yay!
Anyway I'm going to wrap this up. Little guy just went down to bed, and I want to paint my toenails. :D
One thing we talked about at my appointment was my tentative birth plan. My motivation for having it ready to go for this particular appointment was that, then I could bring it up and in a passively aggressive way I could address some of the concerns that I have with this particular midwife.
Some back story. I wrote a bit about it in my post from when Elijah was born, but basically, she was the midwife who delivered Elijah (I have a team of 3, and they take turns being on call for a week at a time.) At the time, there were things that I wasn't happy with, but tried to overlook because, in the end, my baby was here and he was safe and sound.
But being pregnant again and going through the same midwives has forced me to re-evaluate the whole experience and come to terms with my feelings towards this midwife. I feel like this is an essential thing for me to do, or else I won't be able to relax when I'm in labour, and she's really the only one who I don't have a say about being there or not, so I need to be okay with her being around.
One problem that I've been facing lately is whether or not to talk to her about it. As Matt pointed out, would I be telling her about how I feel just to vent my frustrations, or would I be telling her how I feel because she would take what I was telling her and act differently this time? And if she wouldn't act differently, then would it really be worth it to put that strain on the relationship?
So I thought about this long and hard, and opted for a more passive-aggressive way to go about it. I wrote out my birth plan, and went over it at today's appointment, and as a way of addressing my concerns, I said how I wanted things to go this time.
Here are some examples:
- MW to be there when decisions are made, even if I'm under the care of a doctor at that point (hearkening back to when I had to request that KL come in and explain to me why the nurses were saying I needed Oxytocin all of a sudden.)
-Redirection - instead of saying "Don't scream" (which was all KL would tell me), say, "Trying making this sound instead..."
-Explain logic behind suggestions. Like, if I'm going to be made to walk all the way to L & D, at least tell me why I'm not being carted along in a wheel chair and taking the elevator. Because honestly, I was so mad at KL for that one! And I thought she was being really insensitive later on, suggesting that I go for another walk or try going to the bathroom before I got my epidural. I didn't realize until after-the-fact that those things would have helped to progress labour, even if it hurt.
Those are only a few points, but it felt good to get it out of the way.
Do you know what felt even better though?
Finding out that KL is only on call the week before my due date! WOO HOO! So now KL is on call from Sept. 26 to Oct. 3, KR is on call the next week, then ML, then KR again. So as long as I don't go early, I won't have to worry about it at all! Yay!
Anyway I'm going to wrap this up. Little guy just went down to bed, and I want to paint my toenails. :D
Monday, September 5, 2011
"Are you pregnant??"
So, precursor to this story:
We have a friend at church who is about 35, super nice, loves to read, and is a little socially awkward. He has schizophrenia, and it accounts for pretty much all of his behavioural awkwardness, so we overlook much (although I confess to snapping at him one time when he asked with concern what all those white flakes were in my hair.)
So. Rewind to last year. December 14th I got my period. December 19th was the Christmas cantata in our ward. Sure, I was probably a little bloated from my period, and yeah, I still had a baby-belly that I was too lazy to work off from 11 months before. I also had a bad habit of wearing empire-waisted shirts. Still though, I had not, as yet, had anyone ask me if I was pregnant when I wasn't.
Until S comes along, interrupting a conversation with a good friend named Tiffany. S sidles up and says, "Hey Holly, I was just wondering, are you pregnant?" I resisted the urge to feel too injured, as well as the urge to laugh in his face. It was S, afterall, and one couldn't expect him to know how socially inappropriate that sort of question is, especially worded in such a manner. I assured him I was not, and that he'd likely know when I was.
Apparently not!
Fast-forward to a week ago yesterday. Note, I am 8.5, almost 9 months pregnant by now, and looking every bit of it.
Someone stops me in the hall at church and asks to be reminded of my due date. I tell them, and walk away. S was standing there too, which I think absolutely nothing of.
Until that night, when S is trying and trying to get ahold of us because, as his message says, he has a question. Here's how the conversation with Matt went:
S - Quick question. Is it a boy or a girl? (**thinking he's being a little clever**)
M - A girl!
S - Oh. I didn't know Holly was pregnant until today. (!!!)
M - Yep, she's pretty far along!
S - When's she due?
M - October 5th.
S - So she's 7 months along?
M - Somewhere around there
S - Oh, cool. Okay. Just wanted to know. Bye.
And I laughed and laughed and laughed.
Because apparently, S got it into his mind that he should just follow the rule that, "When Holly looks pregnant, she's actually not." And it just never ever ever entered his head since the first time he thought I was and I wasn't that I could actually BE pregnant a couple months later!
Ironically, he asked me if I was pregnant on the very cycle that I got pregnant on. Which of course made me feel a little bad, but not bad enough to tell him earlier than the world in general, which we didn't do until March. I guess he never found out, though, because sharing it in Good News Time in RS doesn't entail the news making it to the ward in general, as not all men are married to RS sisters.
And apparently not all men are able to figure it out based on the bulging stomach alone.
Ohhhhh S. How we enjoy being friends with you!!
**As an aside, I don't write this meaning to make fun of S. Part of me is laughing because I'm trying to get over the fact that someone could think I'm this big and NOT have a baby in my belly. Also, I fully recognize that it's not S's fault that he is the way he is. We know that. And we like him for who he is. Sometimes, it's just really funny and interesting to see how he views the world. In this case, that world involved my ever-expanding stomach. God bless S!**
We have a friend at church who is about 35, super nice, loves to read, and is a little socially awkward. He has schizophrenia, and it accounts for pretty much all of his behavioural awkwardness, so we overlook much (although I confess to snapping at him one time when he asked with concern what all those white flakes were in my hair.)
So. Rewind to last year. December 14th I got my period. December 19th was the Christmas cantata in our ward. Sure, I was probably a little bloated from my period, and yeah, I still had a baby-belly that I was too lazy to work off from 11 months before. I also had a bad habit of wearing empire-waisted shirts. Still though, I had not, as yet, had anyone ask me if I was pregnant when I wasn't.
Until S comes along, interrupting a conversation with a good friend named Tiffany. S sidles up and says, "Hey Holly, I was just wondering, are you pregnant?" I resisted the urge to feel too injured, as well as the urge to laugh in his face. It was S, afterall, and one couldn't expect him to know how socially inappropriate that sort of question is, especially worded in such a manner. I assured him I was not, and that he'd likely know when I was.
Apparently not!
Fast-forward to a week ago yesterday. Note, I am 8.5, almost 9 months pregnant by now, and looking every bit of it.
Someone stops me in the hall at church and asks to be reminded of my due date. I tell them, and walk away. S was standing there too, which I think absolutely nothing of.
Until that night, when S is trying and trying to get ahold of us because, as his message says, he has a question. Here's how the conversation with Matt went:
S - Quick question. Is it a boy or a girl? (**thinking he's being a little clever**)
M - A girl!
S - Oh. I didn't know Holly was pregnant until today. (!!!)
M - Yep, she's pretty far along!
S - When's she due?
M - October 5th.
S - So she's 7 months along?
M - Somewhere around there
S - Oh, cool. Okay. Just wanted to know. Bye.
And I laughed and laughed and laughed.
Because apparently, S got it into his mind that he should just follow the rule that, "When Holly looks pregnant, she's actually not." And it just never ever ever entered his head since the first time he thought I was and I wasn't that I could actually BE pregnant a couple months later!
Ironically, he asked me if I was pregnant on the very cycle that I got pregnant on. Which of course made me feel a little bad, but not bad enough to tell him earlier than the world in general, which we didn't do until March. I guess he never found out, though, because sharing it in Good News Time in RS doesn't entail the news making it to the ward in general, as not all men are married to RS sisters.
And apparently not all men are able to figure it out based on the bulging stomach alone.
Ohhhhh S. How we enjoy being friends with you!!
**As an aside, I don't write this meaning to make fun of S. Part of me is laughing because I'm trying to get over the fact that someone could think I'm this big and NOT have a baby in my belly. Also, I fully recognize that it's not S's fault that he is the way he is. We know that. And we like him for who he is. Sometimes, it's just really funny and interesting to see how he views the world. In this case, that world involved my ever-expanding stomach. God bless S!**
Slowly going crazy....
It's been a while since I posted, huh? I'd like to say there's one really good reason, but it's actually just been a combination of little reasons that have been wearing on me for the last couple weeks, making things hard to deal with.
The first reason is currently crying painful-sounding sobs in the next room while I type this. Seriously, I don't know how much longer I can handle this phase he seems to be in. A week ago he woke up with a low-grade fever and extreme grouchiness, and I figured he was teething, finally about to cut that last eye-tooth. We gave him Tempra, he seemed to do better, but was still unhappy and extra-snuggly, so yes, we let him have his soother more often than normal (normal being just during naps and bedtime.)
The problem is, now he thinks he should have his soother all the time, and he knows where we keep them. It's impossible to take the soother away from him now, and the littlest thing that bothers him sends him running for his soother, resulting in a full-out temper tantrum when he doesn't get it. I don't know if I'd even call it a temper tantrum, though, because he is really and truly crying, like for 25 minutes he's been crying for it. There have been times over the last few days where we've just given it to him because he is so sad, but today I put my foot down. NO soother. I don't care how extreme it gets, it's just not right for him to scream and scream for it.
I feel so torn, though. On the one hand, I know it comforts him, and when he's sad, then he just needs some security. On the other hand, he is at least 7 months behind in speech and social development. That is scary to me. He has been babbling and conversing SO much more lately, or at least he was, until the soother-episodes began. I just can't give him his soother all the time, and not have that develop. I feel guilty enough that he hasn't had his first word, I just can't give in and give him his soother, and be responsible for delaying his speech even further. It hurts just to think about it.
But he is so truly sad. He keeps coming to me for snuggles, and then walks back to the dresser crying. It is breaking my heart, while also driving me up the wall, hearing him crying or fussing constantly.
What doesn't help is the frustrated phase he's in. He gets mad at the littlest things, like not being able to reach something he wants, not being able to re-button my wallet, not being able to get the card back in the slot (in my wallet) or not being able to put a string in a hole too small for it. He gets mad, tosses the object, and starts fussing. At which point, he goes for his soother, and guess what happens? Yup, a 1/2-hour meltdown of epic proportions. That began over something as little and trivial as a string. And I can't even redirect him when he's like that, unless it's with something amazing.
So what do I do when he's freaking out multiple times a day, and crying almost constantly? I go into survival mode, and sometimes just outright ignore him. I can't sit beside him the whole time and give him attention, because in a way that's rewarding the behaviour. I do give him attention and try to help him through it, but yeah, after a little while, I just do my own thing for a time, because I'm going to go insane if I think about it a minute longer.
So this week I feel like I've been in survival mode with him. I can read, but I don't feel connected enough to put a complete sentence together, even on the phone. I can't concentrate very well at all, and I feel so so so tired.
So that's reason number one that I haven't written a post lately. I've started a couple, but they both never got published, because they were terrible-written, disjointed, and depressing (except for my 35-week update, which never got a belly photo. I'll put that up, bare bones and all, once I'm done this one.)
Reason number two is that I have been SO uncomfortable and frustrated with my body the last week. I feel like things should not be this physically hard until I'm way further along than 35 weeks. Like, come on body, have the decency to wait until 40 weeks, at least!
I feel like my stomach has been hard all the time. I have given up trying to tell if they are BH contractions, or real contractions that aren't spaced very well. All I know is that everything goes hard, pushes upwards on my organs, causes horrible indigestion (yeah, MORE sulphur burps!) and makes it so I can't breathe properly because my lungs are being compressed. I get an achy feeling in the lower part of my uterus, but then it all goes away. Sometime it happens when I move or change positions (so those, at least, are likely just BH) and sometimes it happens when I'm just sitting here and haven't moved at all.
Also, and forgive me if I already wrote this, but apparently a baby's head can engage and disengage repeatedly before labour, and this is exactly what Baby Girl has been doing. I've been getting these really sharp flashes of pain across the bottom of my uterus/where my bladder is/where my cervix is. I feel like she burrows her head down there, twists it around a few times, and then stops. This cycle is repeated at random intervals throughout the day, and it's enough to make me gasp because of the pain of it. I just wish she's pick up or down, like, either be engaged and causing pain that way, or not engaged, and causing the indigestion stuff, but not both!
So I've been uncomfortable lately. It doesn't sound like much, but it's another thing wearing on my fragile psyche.
There was also some random frustration and sadness last week when I felt like moving downstairs was getting pushed back again and again. Things worked out, and it's currently being painted, but I feel like it's taken so long to not even BE down there. Mid-July we wanted to move down, and it's now September 5th. I don't even have the bassinet for our baby yet, because we have nowhere to put it. No crib set up, nothing. I don't have homebirth supplies gathered, purchased, etc, I don't have a potential hospital bag packed, because I have no room for those things until we move. So that was all upsetting.
Then, the day after all these emotions came to a head I decided I was sick of not being able to do anything. I was sick of waiting for Matt to be home to help me, and for the downstairs to be finished, and I was feeling so helpless. So what did I do? I completely emptied out our walk-in closet full of things that needed to be put into storage, sorted through it all, and repacked what needed to be in there, at least for the moment. This might have involved moving 10-15 boxes. I thought, while I was doing it, that it's really not that big a deal for a 35-week pregnant women to move some boxes, but once I was done 3 hours later my back had started aching, so I laid down to take a nap. 20-minutes later I could barely move. My back was stiff and sore, my legs were throbbing, and I could have cried because of the painful. It went on like that, completely unbearable, until I took a couple ibuprofen at 8pm, and that did the trick.
So yes, in one day I lifted a ton of boxes, and took ibuprofen. I am a terrible pregnant woman. Really, I'm a desperate one, but who's counting?
So yeah, that was kindof what my week consisted of, with a bunch of misunderstandings, meltdowns, and the like on the side. The funny thing is, each morning I've been taking the time to put on make-up, that I might look better than I feel inside. And then I remember in the late morning/afternoon, through racking sobs, why I had resolved not to put on make-up again until this baby is born. And by the next morning, I've forgotten again!
Anyway, this post has been so depressing, but I had to get it off my chest. Like I said, it's a bunch of little things that feel like they are adding up right now, and I needed to get them down before I tried turning things around and being all puppies and rainbows about everything again.
On a positive note, today is exactly one month until my due date. Tomorrow marks the start of my every-week appointments, and on Saturday Aaron and Rachelle moved back into town, which is exciting in spite of the fact that Terrah likes to grab Elijah's shirt, arm, soother and hair, sending him into meltdown-mode again. But enough about Elijah melting down. He's now happily playing with Daddy, and it's only 30 minutes until naptime. Meaning, MY naptime. ;)
The first reason is currently crying painful-sounding sobs in the next room while I type this. Seriously, I don't know how much longer I can handle this phase he seems to be in. A week ago he woke up with a low-grade fever and extreme grouchiness, and I figured he was teething, finally about to cut that last eye-tooth. We gave him Tempra, he seemed to do better, but was still unhappy and extra-snuggly, so yes, we let him have his soother more often than normal (normal being just during naps and bedtime.)
The problem is, now he thinks he should have his soother all the time, and he knows where we keep them. It's impossible to take the soother away from him now, and the littlest thing that bothers him sends him running for his soother, resulting in a full-out temper tantrum when he doesn't get it. I don't know if I'd even call it a temper tantrum, though, because he is really and truly crying, like for 25 minutes he's been crying for it. There have been times over the last few days where we've just given it to him because he is so sad, but today I put my foot down. NO soother. I don't care how extreme it gets, it's just not right for him to scream and scream for it.
I feel so torn, though. On the one hand, I know it comforts him, and when he's sad, then he just needs some security. On the other hand, he is at least 7 months behind in speech and social development. That is scary to me. He has been babbling and conversing SO much more lately, or at least he was, until the soother-episodes began. I just can't give him his soother all the time, and not have that develop. I feel guilty enough that he hasn't had his first word, I just can't give in and give him his soother, and be responsible for delaying his speech even further. It hurts just to think about it.
But he is so truly sad. He keeps coming to me for snuggles, and then walks back to the dresser crying. It is breaking my heart, while also driving me up the wall, hearing him crying or fussing constantly.
What doesn't help is the frustrated phase he's in. He gets mad at the littlest things, like not being able to reach something he wants, not being able to re-button my wallet, not being able to get the card back in the slot (in my wallet) or not being able to put a string in a hole too small for it. He gets mad, tosses the object, and starts fussing. At which point, he goes for his soother, and guess what happens? Yup, a 1/2-hour meltdown of epic proportions. That began over something as little and trivial as a string. And I can't even redirect him when he's like that, unless it's with something amazing.
So what do I do when he's freaking out multiple times a day, and crying almost constantly? I go into survival mode, and sometimes just outright ignore him. I can't sit beside him the whole time and give him attention, because in a way that's rewarding the behaviour. I do give him attention and try to help him through it, but yeah, after a little while, I just do my own thing for a time, because I'm going to go insane if I think about it a minute longer.
So this week I feel like I've been in survival mode with him. I can read, but I don't feel connected enough to put a complete sentence together, even on the phone. I can't concentrate very well at all, and I feel so so so tired.
So that's reason number one that I haven't written a post lately. I've started a couple, but they both never got published, because they were terrible-written, disjointed, and depressing (except for my 35-week update, which never got a belly photo. I'll put that up, bare bones and all, once I'm done this one.)
Reason number two is that I have been SO uncomfortable and frustrated with my body the last week. I feel like things should not be this physically hard until I'm way further along than 35 weeks. Like, come on body, have the decency to wait until 40 weeks, at least!
I feel like my stomach has been hard all the time. I have given up trying to tell if they are BH contractions, or real contractions that aren't spaced very well. All I know is that everything goes hard, pushes upwards on my organs, causes horrible indigestion (yeah, MORE sulphur burps!) and makes it so I can't breathe properly because my lungs are being compressed. I get an achy feeling in the lower part of my uterus, but then it all goes away. Sometime it happens when I move or change positions (so those, at least, are likely just BH) and sometimes it happens when I'm just sitting here and haven't moved at all.
Also, and forgive me if I already wrote this, but apparently a baby's head can engage and disengage repeatedly before labour, and this is exactly what Baby Girl has been doing. I've been getting these really sharp flashes of pain across the bottom of my uterus/where my bladder is/where my cervix is. I feel like she burrows her head down there, twists it around a few times, and then stops. This cycle is repeated at random intervals throughout the day, and it's enough to make me gasp because of the pain of it. I just wish she's pick up or down, like, either be engaged and causing pain that way, or not engaged, and causing the indigestion stuff, but not both!
So I've been uncomfortable lately. It doesn't sound like much, but it's another thing wearing on my fragile psyche.
There was also some random frustration and sadness last week when I felt like moving downstairs was getting pushed back again and again. Things worked out, and it's currently being painted, but I feel like it's taken so long to not even BE down there. Mid-July we wanted to move down, and it's now September 5th. I don't even have the bassinet for our baby yet, because we have nowhere to put it. No crib set up, nothing. I don't have homebirth supplies gathered, purchased, etc, I don't have a potential hospital bag packed, because I have no room for those things until we move. So that was all upsetting.
Then, the day after all these emotions came to a head I decided I was sick of not being able to do anything. I was sick of waiting for Matt to be home to help me, and for the downstairs to be finished, and I was feeling so helpless. So what did I do? I completely emptied out our walk-in closet full of things that needed to be put into storage, sorted through it all, and repacked what needed to be in there, at least for the moment. This might have involved moving 10-15 boxes. I thought, while I was doing it, that it's really not that big a deal for a 35-week pregnant women to move some boxes, but once I was done 3 hours later my back had started aching, so I laid down to take a nap. 20-minutes later I could barely move. My back was stiff and sore, my legs were throbbing, and I could have cried because of the painful. It went on like that, completely unbearable, until I took a couple ibuprofen at 8pm, and that did the trick.
So yes, in one day I lifted a ton of boxes, and took ibuprofen. I am a terrible pregnant woman. Really, I'm a desperate one, but who's counting?
So yeah, that was kindof what my week consisted of, with a bunch of misunderstandings, meltdowns, and the like on the side. The funny thing is, each morning I've been taking the time to put on make-up, that I might look better than I feel inside. And then I remember in the late morning/afternoon, through racking sobs, why I had resolved not to put on make-up again until this baby is born. And by the next morning, I've forgotten again!
Anyway, this post has been so depressing, but I had to get it off my chest. Like I said, it's a bunch of little things that feel like they are adding up right now, and I needed to get them down before I tried turning things around and being all puppies and rainbows about everything again.
On a positive note, today is exactly one month until my due date. Tomorrow marks the start of my every-week appointments, and on Saturday Aaron and Rachelle moved back into town, which is exciting in spite of the fact that Terrah likes to grab Elijah's shirt, arm, soother and hair, sending him into meltdown-mode again. But enough about Elijah melting down. He's now happily playing with Daddy, and it's only 30 minutes until naptime. Meaning, MY naptime. ;)
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