34 weeks

At 34 weeks there are a few things I've learned about pregnancy that I wouldn't have really considered before.

1. Aside from having to pee every nine minutes you also feel as though you have to go every single time you stand up.  And also sometimes while you're still sitting.  And also when the baby bladder-punches you.  And also don't ever sneeze without crossing your legs.  Or laugh.
2. Five pounds doesn't seem like much if you're lifting weights, but when you lift that weight constantly with only your uterus, it is very heavy!
3. If I don't feel the baby move for an hour I freak out a little and push and prod him until he wakes up and kicks me until I stop.
4. The videos we watch in baby class are horrifying.
5. The videos we watch in baby class make me cry and I don't know if it's an emotional response to a baby coming into the world or a physical response to the horror I'll be going through soon.
6. Sometimes my belly looks like the scene from Alien when the monster starts to come out of the guy's belly (without the gore).
7. Getting out of bed is more difficult than I would have ever imagined.

These are but a few of my observations over the past few weeks...  I'm sure I could come up with more.

mothers and fathers

In 2013 I was informed via the many forums I frequented, titled Trying to Conceive After a Loss (TCAL) or Trying to Get Pregnant (TTGP) and various others, that Mother's Day was something that I should feel some certain way about.  Honestly, that year, despite the two miscarriages I'd already had, the day didn't bother me so much.  I wasn't a mother.  I wanted to be, but I wasn't yet.  I had a mother and a mother-in-law and the day was mostly about them.  So I didn't really understand what all the fuss was about, people warning us to avoid Facebook that day for all the Mother's Day posts and calling people out for being insensitive to those who've experienced losses.  I guess I could see where they were coming from, but for me it was just another day.

This year some might argue that I am already a mother, I just haven't met my baby yet.  I didn't expect anyone to make any big deal about Mother's Day for me, but Ed did leave me a rose from our rosebush outside
 and a note from Ted saying, "Happy Mother's Day!"  It was nice and not too much.  Just right, really.

For Father's Day this year, I wanted to acknowledge Eddie in some way.  I spent some time making a card with an original drawing.  I am not an artist in any way, shape or form, but I came up with (after 4 tries) what I thought was an acceptable drawing.  Of course, when I showed it to someone at work and said, "I'm not very good at drawing," the guy I was talking to said, "No, you're not."  But whatever.  I thought Ed would appreciate the effort and that I didn't just ask my coworker, Lauren (who is an amazing artist) to do it for me!

32 weeks and counting down

I have at most, eight weeks left!  (I say at most confidently, because my ob says that she doesn't let gestational diabetes patients go over 40 weeks).  I'm feeling pretty good except for some heartburn that feels like my stomach is trying to carve a hole in my chest and exit through my sternum.  I also have some sciatic nerve pain that makes walking a challenge (more so than usual - I'm kind of clutzy anway).  But I'm not going to go on about how good I feel because I'm afraid that will trigger an episode and I swear I am not going back to the hospital unless it's to remove this baby!  (By force, if necessary).  Ted's doing pretty well as far as I can tell.  At 28 weeks he was right on schedule size-wise, so I hope he's still growing properly.  He moves a lot.  In fact today I was thinking that he'd been kind of quiet (we were in church, so I guess he's practicing) until Chris the pastor yelled suddenly and Ted started flailing around like he was startled.  It was pretty funny, actually.

I have been spared (if you can use that word) a worry-free pregnancy by all that came before this pregnancy as well as hearing about the trials of friends' reproductive experiences.  I can say that I am less worried than I was in the first and second trimester, but it definitely hasn't gone away.  I also can't relax completely and be 100% thrilled for my friends and acquaintances announcing their pregnancies.  A friend recently announced they were expecting and I was so excited for them, but there's always a voice at the back of my mind going, "I hope everything goes well.  I hope they don't have any problems."  I wish that I could be worry-free about my and others' pregnancies, but that isn't my reality.  If I am blessed with a second (or fifth if you're counting) pregnancy after Teddy, I know I will fret much of the time, and I guess that will be ok.  It will have to be.

i spoke too soon...

Apparently the "bestmester" might not exist after all.  No.  I refuse to believe that.  This will be the bestmester, I just had a little setback.  It could happen to anyone.  On Wednesday after work I started having severe cramping that wrapped around my back and I got a little worried.  I drank a glass of water, rested in my bed and after about an hour I called my doctor.  She thought I needed to be seen and, bless her, said she would wait for me after hours at the clinic so I didn't have to go to the hospital.  (Again.)  (Of course this may have been a result of the fact that she is usually so far behind in seeing patients that she doesn't leave the clinic for two hours after her last scheduled appointment.  But it was still kind of her). 

Dr. Fogleman checked my urine (positive for ketones indicating dehydration) and ran a fetal fibronectin (negative, meaning I should not have a baby within the next two weeks).  She checked my cervix for dilation (none, long and closed) and actually could feel the baby's head, which was pretty cool.  She thought that the cramping/contractions were caused by the dehydration and it should subside if I could get some water.  Yay!

So.  Back home I fixed a big glass of ice water and took a warm bath to help with the pain.  I didn't think I drank too fast, but the next thing I knew I was throwing up.  This was uncool because how would I ever get rehydrated if I kept throwing up?  Well, I couldn't and the vomiting didn't stop.  So can you guess what happened next?  Yep.  Back to Women's at midnight for some fluids and this time I was severely dehydrated so they admitted me again and I got two bags of fluid, some lovely Phenergan that made me sleepy and continued throwing up for 24 hours.  I consider Phenergan something in the Valium category because it never helps with the nausea I feel, but makes me very sleepy.  I was there until about 1pm on Thursday and didn't feel much better when they discharged me.  I did not want to leave but the doctor who saw me said that I wouldn't feel perfect and I should go home and sip fluids and try to eat small amounts of food. 

Back home again and I still felt horrible.  I took many baths because they are somehow soothing and comforting and I kept getting back in when I started to feel bad.  I took Reglan about 6:30, took another bath and magically at 7 I started feeling better.  I drank a Boost (the only "food" I'd had since 12:30 the day before) and felt so much better.

Today I'm weak and sore and very tired, but not nauseous.  Thank the Lord.  Sorry for the long, boring post, but you could have stopped reading at any time!

30 weeks

I'm officially 30 weeks pregnant (at least I was on Saturday).  I thought I would never make it this far!  This trimester has been the best so far (granted, I'm only a couple weeks into it).  I've gotten the nausea under control (finally), with the help of Reglan and Zantac (which I keep mispronouncing Xanax, garnering a fair share of odd looks - one from my doctor.  She was nearly positive she hadn't prescribed it!)  I've come to realize that I've been fairly "complainy" during this whole pregnancy thing.  I'm sure my coworkers want to shoot me on a daily basis.  I do apologize for my complaininess.  I couldn't wait to be pregnant and part of me feels like I should welcome every ache and discomfort simply because I wanted it so badly.  Well.  I honestly didn't know it would suck so much.  I am grateful that I have been able to experience it and look forward to the weeks to come (sort of.  Part of me wishes I could skip right ahead to the birth and the other part wants to skip that part too!)

I can't wait, however, to hold my baby.  It used to be that when I thought of babies, I thought of a cute seven month old "Gerber baby" with chubby cheeks and a delightful giggle.  I used to want to skip all the hard beginning stuff, straight to the Gerber stage.  Now when I picture holding Teddy I picture a tiny, scrunched up newborn, knees folded into his chest and cheek resting on my shoulder.  I can't wait to experience all the stages of his growth. 

I was able to go to my parents' house this past weekend for a visit.  I love going home and never seem to get to any more.  I realized while I was there that it was likely that the next time I visited I would have an almost four month old baby (this would be for Thanksgiving).  That's insane.  I can't wait!

Williamsburg

This is a little delayed since our Williamsburg "babymoon" (what a lame term), was two weeks ago, but better late than never.  I worked 10 out of 11 days following the trip, so... not my fault.  This will mostly be a photo dump.  We had a great time, though.  We stayed at a fairly cheap motel with free continental breakfast everyday.  We spent Saturday at Colonial Williamsburg and toured the governor's palace, ate at a colonial tavern called Josiah Chowning's (complete with strange colonial men playing old fashioned guitars and serenading us with Yankee Doodle), shopped in colonial shops and toured the blacksmith, magazine, courthouse and other sites that interested us.  On Sunday we attended Bruton Parish Church (established in 1674 with the current church being built in 1715).  I had a minor panic at the thought of attending because we witnessed the 9 am service leaving at 10:50 am.  I wasn't sure I could sit there for two hours on uncomfortable pews at seven months pregnant.  Luckily, our service was a scant hour and ten minutes and the 9 am service was actually a special service for the children (this seems counter-intuitive to me as I feel most children have shorter attention spans than me).  After church we headed to the Jamestown Settlement and learned about Pocahontas and John Smith, toured the boats and the recreated settlement.  Monday we went to Historic Jamestown where the actual settlement is being excavated by archaeologists and learned from one of them a little more about John Smith, Pocahontas and their crew.  Here are a few pics:

Governor's Palace

Ed and I in the garden at Governor's Palace

Colonial marching band?

Colonial tavern

Colonial hostess 

Self explanatory 

See the juxtaposition of the modern and the colonial?

Bruton Parish Church

Powhatan Village

Jamestown Settlement

Boats!

Pocahontas

Glass Blowers

contradictions

I'm in a really weird place right now, ever since seeing my baby's face on the 3D ultrasound.  On one hand I am so, so happy.  Of course, this could just be a hormonal pregnancy mood swing that is serendipitously on the upswing right now.  But I think it's more that now that I've seen Teddy's face I am so excited to actually meet him and hold his little feet and kiss his hands and cheeks.  I told him the other day after my ultrasound that now that I've seen him he absolutely has to come home with us.  There is no other option.  He can kick my ribs and punch my bladder as often as he wants to, but he has to come home.  On the other hand, however, I feel the realization that it isn't going to be as idyllic as I might like to imagine.  He will be a newborn baby, thrust into a world that he doesn't understand, having very little method of communication other than a wail.  As he is getting to know me, I'll be getting to know him, learning how to care for him, figuring out what he needs and wants, and hopefully be able to provide the things he needs and wants in a timely manner.  It's going to be hard.  I understand this and it makes me very nervous.  I know I'm not alone.  I have Ed and my mom and his mom and sister.  I have friends that have babies and both parties (the mothers and the babies) survived the first year.  It's a lot to think about and my brain is slightly overloaded.

Speaking to a friend today, she told me that yes.  It's hard.  It's really hard.  There will be moments when you think to yourself, "Man.  I don't think I was made for being a mother."  But apparently those thoughts cross a lot of new moms' minds from time to time and evidently it passes.  She also was quick to reassure that there is also plenty of good mixed in there that helps to outweigh the hard stuff.

It also helps to know that he's freaking cute.  My goodness. I might be biased, but that is a cute baby!  (And I don't normally think newborns are very cute - and I think a fetus tends to be even less cute than a newborn, though I have no proof of this).  Of course, he'll still come out all red faced and squinchy, so time will tell.