And so, it was in the 37th week of my pregnancy with my 2nd child that I found out what it must be like to be the child of a Jewish mother. . .
I met my doc for the second time. I promised her I wouldn't cry if she told me I had made absolutely no progress since week 36. Then I got to make good on my promise when the only good news she could offer was that the baby was still head down.
I truly felt on the verge of a physical collapse and I lamented to her that I was SO very tired and that I was thinking of just going on leave early. She said she could do that if I wanted, that she does it all the time. Then she cupped my face with one of her hands and cooed "how could I say no to that face!" and the resulting mix of comfort and confusion is what I imagine children of Jewish mothers must often feel. I told her I was taking the rest of the day off and would see what the weekend brought.
Well, the weekend brought a slightly higher blood pressure and increased episodes of palpitations that I could feel in my neck and throat and head.
So, Monday morning I went to the hospital, where it was discovered that my blood pressure was 140/102. Scary high. I was monitored, my bp dropped to 119/80, and baby seemed fine. 6 hours later I was released with instructions to rest. No problemo.
My feet look better than they have in two weeks and I feel better than I have in at least a week - though I still have palpitations every now and then.
Today I followed up with my doc and she really was not kidding: she's not moody like Dr. M was at all. In fact, she's sometimes so chipper and understanding and nice it's almost more saccharine than I can comprehend.
My bp was 119/79 - normal, but still a little high for me. I am NOT pre-eclamptic (hooray!) but she put me on leave from work and scheduled an induction for next Thursday (39 weeks) just to be safe. I am measuring small so she thinks I won't have a big baby this time. That fits with a dream I had last week: he'll be long and lean and have crazy amounts of dark hair that sticks straight up. . .
I'm a little freaked about induction and secretly hope my body will progress on its own.
We shall see. . .
~Nichole
"May you be in love every day for the next 20,000 days. And out of that love, remake a world." -Ray Bradbury
Inner Beauty
4.18.2012
My belly is, at best, very rotund and, at worst, mottled and splotchy with stretching.
I still have not filled the gap that my lost baby tooth left.
My face is taking on the pregnancy puff, which is why my hair is still long and driving me nuts, tempting me to cut it.
Despite my husband’s deepest reassurances, my butt is pregnancy-big.
I am up 30 pounds.
I make a concentrated effort not to waddle, but a full bladder and sciatic nerve pain down my left leg sometimes make that difficult.
Even on my best non-pregnant days, I often struggle with self image.
Whilst third trimester pregnant, it is a daily, losing battle.
But even when my voice, upon seeing myself in the mirror, tells me differently:
That little face that brightens upon seeing me at the end of the day makes me feel beautiful.
Those soft little lips kissing me repeatedly make me feel beautiful.
The bathtime giggles together make me feel beautiful
Bedtime conversations that start with “tell me bout da” make me feel beautiful.
The whispered “I wuv you, so bery much” makes me feel beautiful.
Being a mother makes me feel beautiful.
I still have not filled the gap that my lost baby tooth left.
My face is taking on the pregnancy puff, which is why my hair is still long and driving me nuts, tempting me to cut it.
Despite my husband’s deepest reassurances, my butt is pregnancy-big.
I am up 30 pounds.
I make a concentrated effort not to waddle, but a full bladder and sciatic nerve pain down my left leg sometimes make that difficult.
Even on my best non-pregnant days, I often struggle with self image.
Whilst third trimester pregnant, it is a daily, losing battle.
But even when my voice, upon seeing myself in the mirror, tells me differently:
That little face that brightens upon seeing me at the end of the day makes me feel beautiful.
Those soft little lips kissing me repeatedly make me feel beautiful.
The bathtime giggles together make me feel beautiful
Bedtime conversations that start with “tell me bout da” make me feel beautiful.
The whispered “I wuv you, so bery much” makes me feel beautiful.
Being a mother makes me feel beautiful.
~Nichole
Update at 32 weeks
4.07.2012
I love the visit right after the one with the glucose test because you get all sorts of great news, like "your iron's normal" and "you passed the diabetes test with flying colors" and "it's time to pre-register at the hospital" and "you're winning the stretch mark war" and "baby's locked and loaded in the head down position". {See why I'm gonna miss my doc?}
In other news, I think this baby gets an inordinate amount of the hiccups. It's very fun and funny now, but may not be if it continues after he's born.
Also, with the heat comes the swelling. {Howdy there, 90 degree weather!} So, I bought my feet some raspberry colored crocs to compensate. So there.
Also, baby's suddenly slowed down movement-wise in the last few days and I'm wondering what that's all about.
And, oh holy night (!), I woke up with acid in my mouth last night! The kind you only get after you throw up. Which I have not done since I was - oh - about 12. So, I can only devise that this means my belly is now expanding UPwards and crushing my poor esophagus. {Hooray!}
I'm finding it surreal that I am down to single digits left now: just 8 (or less) weeks to go now! {Or, as I told my doc, "the train is coming in to the station".} I can't distinguish between whether my obsession over whether this baby will be early or not is a premonition or just a fear. . . . but I keep telling myself to pack a hospital bag (or three) just in case. In any case, I'd be good with having a Taurus.
In other news, I think this baby gets an inordinate amount of the hiccups. It's very fun and funny now, but may not be if it continues after he's born.
Also, with the heat comes the swelling. {Howdy there, 90 degree weather!} So, I bought my feet some raspberry colored crocs to compensate. So there.
Also, baby's suddenly slowed down movement-wise in the last few days and I'm wondering what that's all about.
And, oh holy night (!), I woke up with acid in my mouth last night! The kind you only get after you throw up. Which I have not done since I was - oh - about 12. So, I can only devise that this means my belly is now expanding UPwards and crushing my poor esophagus. {Hooray!}
I'm finding it surreal that I am down to single digits left now: just 8 (or less) weeks to go now! {Or, as I told my doc, "the train is coming in to the station".} I can't distinguish between whether my obsession over whether this baby will be early or not is a premonition or just a fear. . . . but I keep telling myself to pack a hospital bag (or three) just in case. In any case, I'd be good with having a Taurus.
~Nichole
Two Year Old Stammering
3.16.2012
Recently, my prodigious little 2.33 year old has taken to stammering his way through sentences. First it was “I’m gonna gonna. . .” and then he added a few more “gonnas”. Then, it was just “I, I, I, I. . . .”
While I suspect that it’s akin to that point in learning a foreign language when your brain goes faster than your limited vocabulary allows, it’s still kind of worrisome.
He talks A LOT! Last Sunday in church, he sat on the floor with a little 5 year old girl and talked her ear off about “saying a prayer” and about “going pee” and all sorts of hilarious things. Every day, usually while he’s in the bathtub, we review his day and he tells me what he’s done. Sometimes, if he doesn’t have the words to say what he wants, he’ll quote from one of the books we read often.
If and when he stammers, I don’t interrupt him or try to finish his sentences for him. I do, however, sometimes gently prod him with “think about what you’re trying to say”, which seems to help because he can usually complete his sentence after that. It’s like he has SO much he wants to say, but is trying to find the words to say it.
I googled “two year old stuttering” and found a couple of things that put my mind at ease.
Here’s what BabyCenter has to say:
"It's normal for your 2-year-old to go through a phase of stuttering, especially when you consider the fact that between the ages of 30 months and 5 years, kids are undergoing extremely rapid growth in their verbal abilities.
Technically, most kids this age don't have a true stutter — instead, they either hesitate when talking or repeat whole words or the first syllable of a word. Your child has these lapses when his brainpower outstrips his verbal dexterity. He may be extremely excited to tell you what's on his mind, or he may be tired, angry, or upset, so he can't get his words out easily. His rapidly developing brain is trying to pull up the right words in the right order. The result may come out something like this: "Mommy, Mommy, look at — look at that." If your child's stuttering continues to get worse, to the point where he's tensing his jaw or grimacing in an effort to get the words out, talk with his pediatrician."
And a pediatric expert from WebMD:
"Transient dysfluency (temporary stuttering) is typically seen in 2- to 4-year-olds. They usually are very verbal and often advanced for their years. The dysfluency results from their talking abilities going faster than the language centers of their brain. It’s as if their brain can’t catch up to their motor mouth, so it slows things down by repeating sounds over and over (i.e. by stuttering).
Stuttering is probably, at least in part, an inborn, genetic problem. There are lots of theories, but nobody really knows what causes it. Boys are about three times more likely to stutter than girls. When it comes to developmental issues, boys always get the short end of the stick!
Once your little guy’s brain catches up to his mouth, the stuttering will disappear. In the meantime, I wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. He’s too young to be very bothered by the stuttering, and if you get anxious about it, so will he, which may just make it worse. Continue to talk to him in a nice, slow, relaxed way and patiently wait for him to make his points. The odds are very good he’ll outgrow it in less than a year.
So I wouldn’t worry if I were you, but while I’m on the subject, let’s discuss when a parent should begin to worry about a child’s stuttering, which is seen in 1% of school-aged children.
Personally, I usually don’t worry about stuttering unless it’s still happening after the age of 4 years. Here are some things that would lead me to bring a child to a speech-language therapist’s attention:
• The child is very bothered and upset by the stuttering.
• The stuttering occurs in all situations, not just when the child is excited or nervous.
• The child seems to be struggling to get the words out, with an increase in the pitch of his/her voice.
• The repetitions are very frequent and very long.
• There are frequent prolongations or blockages of words and sounds.
• The child avoids saying certain difficult words.
We’ve all known people who stutter and we all know how hard it can be for the stutterer. The good news is:
1. Most kids get better.
2. Speech therapy helps. If you have any concerns about your child’s dysfluency, talk to your pediatric provider or find a good speech-language pathologist (the Stuttering Foundation of America can recommend one)."
It seems to be a passing phase, since he's already getting a little better, but these things are still good to know.
While I suspect that it’s akin to that point in learning a foreign language when your brain goes faster than your limited vocabulary allows, it’s still kind of worrisome.
He talks A LOT! Last Sunday in church, he sat on the floor with a little 5 year old girl and talked her ear off about “saying a prayer” and about “going pee” and all sorts of hilarious things. Every day, usually while he’s in the bathtub, we review his day and he tells me what he’s done. Sometimes, if he doesn’t have the words to say what he wants, he’ll quote from one of the books we read often.
If and when he stammers, I don’t interrupt him or try to finish his sentences for him. I do, however, sometimes gently prod him with “think about what you’re trying to say”, which seems to help because he can usually complete his sentence after that. It’s like he has SO much he wants to say, but is trying to find the words to say it.
I googled “two year old stuttering” and found a couple of things that put my mind at ease.
Here’s what BabyCenter has to say:
"It's normal for your 2-year-old to go through a phase of stuttering, especially when you consider the fact that between the ages of 30 months and 5 years, kids are undergoing extremely rapid growth in their verbal abilities.
Technically, most kids this age don't have a true stutter — instead, they either hesitate when talking or repeat whole words or the first syllable of a word. Your child has these lapses when his brainpower outstrips his verbal dexterity. He may be extremely excited to tell you what's on his mind, or he may be tired, angry, or upset, so he can't get his words out easily. His rapidly developing brain is trying to pull up the right words in the right order. The result may come out something like this: "Mommy, Mommy, look at — look at that." If your child's stuttering continues to get worse, to the point where he's tensing his jaw or grimacing in an effort to get the words out, talk with his pediatrician."
And a pediatric expert from WebMD:
"Transient dysfluency (temporary stuttering) is typically seen in 2- to 4-year-olds. They usually are very verbal and often advanced for their years. The dysfluency results from their talking abilities going faster than the language centers of their brain. It’s as if their brain can’t catch up to their motor mouth, so it slows things down by repeating sounds over and over (i.e. by stuttering).
Stuttering is probably, at least in part, an inborn, genetic problem. There are lots of theories, but nobody really knows what causes it. Boys are about three times more likely to stutter than girls. When it comes to developmental issues, boys always get the short end of the stick!
Once your little guy’s brain catches up to his mouth, the stuttering will disappear. In the meantime, I wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. He’s too young to be very bothered by the stuttering, and if you get anxious about it, so will he, which may just make it worse. Continue to talk to him in a nice, slow, relaxed way and patiently wait for him to make his points. The odds are very good he’ll outgrow it in less than a year.
So I wouldn’t worry if I were you, but while I’m on the subject, let’s discuss when a parent should begin to worry about a child’s stuttering, which is seen in 1% of school-aged children.
Personally, I usually don’t worry about stuttering unless it’s still happening after the age of 4 years. Here are some things that would lead me to bring a child to a speech-language therapist’s attention:
• The child is very bothered and upset by the stuttering.
• The stuttering occurs in all situations, not just when the child is excited or nervous.
• The child seems to be struggling to get the words out, with an increase in the pitch of his/her voice.
• The repetitions are very frequent and very long.
• There are frequent prolongations or blockages of words and sounds.
• The child avoids saying certain difficult words.
We’ve all known people who stutter and we all know how hard it can be for the stutterer. The good news is:
1. Most kids get better.
2. Speech therapy helps. If you have any concerns about your child’s dysfluency, talk to your pediatric provider or find a good speech-language pathologist (the Stuttering Foundation of America can recommend one)."
It seems to be a passing phase, since he's already getting a little better, but these things are still good to know.
~Nichole
No, But Really
3.12.2012
I wasn’t kidding when I said the honeymoon is over. I’ve nearly passed out at church the last two Sundays. Sitting in metal chairs with a pregnant belly and little to no air flow does not make my body happy I guess. Apparently, this is just how my body does pregnancy in the third trimester. (Remember when I passed out twice at work when in my 3rd tm with C?)
Blah.
AND I have my glucose test tomorrow morning.
Is there no way I can pull a Rip Van Winkle and sleep for the next 10 to 12 weeks?
So long second trimester! I’ll miss you while I’m slogging through the swampy undertow of this last trimester, clawing my way to the finish line. At least I have "nesting" to look forward to. . .
Blah.
AND I have my glucose test tomorrow morning.
Is there no way I can pull a Rip Van Winkle and sleep for the next 10 to 12 weeks?
So long second trimester! I’ll miss you while I’m slogging through the swampy undertow of this last trimester, clawing my way to the finish line. At least I have "nesting" to look forward to. . .
~Nichole
The Honeymoon Is Over
3.08.2012
Hooray! I’ve made it to the third trimester!
Or, in other words, I am leaving the “honeymoon” phase and am now entering the “beached whale” stage of pregnancy.
Last Friday, I experienced the worst mixture of feelings I’ve yet felt in this pregnancy. It happened as I was standing at the Bass Pro feeding tank, the smile I had while watching my toddler point at the “big fish” still plastered on my face as I tried to remember the last time I had felt the baby move.
The resulting feelings were an awfully haunting mixture of panic and guilt, as I realized I hadn’t felt him move since earlier that morning, and it was now a full 12 hours later. I tried to soothe myself with the realization that we’d had an active morning that stretched into early afternoon. “But,” said my mind, “But! There were those 3 hours during naptime when you sat on the couch with your feet up and felt nary an internal punch or kick.
I tried not to let the panic or the guilt consume me as I made my way to my husband’s second home at the fly shop. Thankfully, he was calm under pressure, and suggested getting something sweet to drink and taking it easy for a bit. (In my mind I wondered how on earth he knew the textbook response. . . ) While we were en route to Sonic, the baby sent a telegram: SOS style taps and jabs to say “Hey! I’m in here! Hello!!!! (And, yes, something sweet to drink would be nice!)”
Phew! Relief!
Until a week ago, my body had procured for its retirement years a wide, flat piece of real estate between the bottom of my navel and the top of my pelvis. This bump has become somewhat of an interloper in that space. The retirement property is no longer flat now that my belly has ballooned downward and staked its claim. The baby’s finally decided to emerge from his hammock at the very very bottom of my uterus (under formerly flat real estate) and is staking out areas northward. I suppose now that he’s almost 15 inches long and weighs about 2.5 pounds, it’s time to find some more comfortable digs. I really don’t understand pregnant bellies and the babies in them. . .
Also? I’m really freaking tired! Like, REALLY! No matter how much I sleep, I’m tired. So tired. Each and every night I’m waking 3 or 4 times to go to the bathroom. And each and every time I find myself fully awake for seemingly no reason and then go “Oh. Bladder.”, I find myself lamenting the REMs I know I should be getting and knowing that somewhere, somehow my body’s keeping score on what it’s sacrificing to gestate this baby.
And then there’s the part where my OB is leaving his practice a month before my due date. Boo!
But mostly, there’s just this buzzy feeling as we enter the homestretch. It could be the shortest trimester of a pregnancy (9 weeks!) or the longest (14 weeks – hiss!), but it’s the one that feels most real, like the realization that “hey! There’s a baby at the end of all this!”. M’s getting so excited, which I think is exciting and kind of funny. Because he has no idea what we’re really in for!
Or, in other words, I am leaving the “honeymoon” phase and am now entering the “beached whale” stage of pregnancy.
Last Friday, I experienced the worst mixture of feelings I’ve yet felt in this pregnancy. It happened as I was standing at the Bass Pro feeding tank, the smile I had while watching my toddler point at the “big fish” still plastered on my face as I tried to remember the last time I had felt the baby move.
The resulting feelings were an awfully haunting mixture of panic and guilt, as I realized I hadn’t felt him move since earlier that morning, and it was now a full 12 hours later. I tried to soothe myself with the realization that we’d had an active morning that stretched into early afternoon. “But,” said my mind, “But! There were those 3 hours during naptime when you sat on the couch with your feet up and felt nary an internal punch or kick.
I tried not to let the panic or the guilt consume me as I made my way to my husband’s second home at the fly shop. Thankfully, he was calm under pressure, and suggested getting something sweet to drink and taking it easy for a bit. (In my mind I wondered how on earth he knew the textbook response. . . ) While we were en route to Sonic, the baby sent a telegram: SOS style taps and jabs to say “Hey! I’m in here! Hello!!!! (And, yes, something sweet to drink would be nice!)”
Phew! Relief!
Until a week ago, my body had procured for its retirement years a wide, flat piece of real estate between the bottom of my navel and the top of my pelvis. This bump has become somewhat of an interloper in that space. The retirement property is no longer flat now that my belly has ballooned downward and staked its claim. The baby’s finally decided to emerge from his hammock at the very very bottom of my uterus (under formerly flat real estate) and is staking out areas northward. I suppose now that he’s almost 15 inches long and weighs about 2.5 pounds, it’s time to find some more comfortable digs. I really don’t understand pregnant bellies and the babies in them. . .
Also? I’m really freaking tired! Like, REALLY! No matter how much I sleep, I’m tired. So tired. Each and every night I’m waking 3 or 4 times to go to the bathroom. And each and every time I find myself fully awake for seemingly no reason and then go “Oh. Bladder.”, I find myself lamenting the REMs I know I should be getting and knowing that somewhere, somehow my body’s keeping score on what it’s sacrificing to gestate this baby.
And then there’s the part where my OB is leaving his practice a month before my due date. Boo!
But mostly, there’s just this buzzy feeling as we enter the homestretch. It could be the shortest trimester of a pregnancy (9 weeks!) or the longest (14 weeks – hiss!), but it’s the one that feels most real, like the realization that “hey! There’s a baby at the end of all this!”. M’s getting so excited, which I think is exciting and kind of funny. Because he has no idea what we’re really in for!
~Nichole
This Pregnancy Grew Wings
2.22.2012
Time is literally flying. And it’s in a desperate attempt to catalog some of this going-too-quickly, whirlwind of a pregnancy that I now write.
The “days left to go” have officially dropped down from triple digits, and now number at 99. I can’t believe I’ll be 26 weeks along tomorrow! I’ve seriously been meaning to get a belly pic for this kicking little progeny for over 2 weeks now. It’s crazy! Everyone of my family who said my belly was “tiny” two weeks ago probably wouldn’t think so now. And while I remember all too well that I can and will get bigger (I’m trying to block the mental images of my belly at full-term), it still seems impossible. Even so, I’m giving serious consideration to doing a belly cast just in case the baby factory closes after this one’s done cooking.
I’m hovering around 19 pounds of weight gain. I’m slightly more freaked about total weight gain this time than I was last time, but that doesn’t stop me from eating daily doses of things like cake, ice cream and chocolate. (Don’t worry! I also get good things like fruit, greek yogurt and baby carrots. . .)
I feel so hurried with life that it’s hard to remind myself to slow down and enjoy feeling this baby. I feel like during my pregnancy with C, I was so much more in tune with every little movement and felt more bonded with him. With this baby, I have to remind myself that there’s a baby in there and that he’s getting bigger every day. Still, this doesn’t leave me with the all-too-common worry that I won’t love this baby as much as I do C. My bigger worry is that I’ll be able to keep loving C the same (and more!) after the baby. When we had C, M and I went from a straight line to a triangle, and I remember that being a very scary prospect. And now, adding one more means we’ll have to pound those angles out to a nice, round circle. It’s just what happens when you have a new addition to a family, but being “under construction” isn’t always so tidy a process.
My confidence is more shaky this time around. I don’t know how that’s possible, since my pregnancy with C was my first full-term pregnancy. But, I know precisely what can possibly go wrong (I’ve heard way too many sad, but touching stories since I’ve been pregnant) and I just don’t think I have the first-time-everything-will-be-ok confidence I had last time. My biggest fear is losing the baby to pre-term birth. Even being 26 weeks along does little to assuage that fear, because when I think I’m almost out of the danger zone and into the safety net that 27 weeks provides, the statistic floats up that baby boys are more underdeveloped and have less fight than baby girls.
Still, this pregnancy is also more fun and exciting in some ways. M is also incredibly excited, now that having one has made the process that much more tangible and real for him than it was last time. Plus, this time we get to share the experience with C, who pats my belly and says “when dis baby is done growing, he’s gonna come see us”. (What else are you gonna tell a 2 year old when he pulls my shirt up and asks to see the baby – the same way he can see his “baby” (aka mini Pooh bear) when you zip down his jammies and baby bear “gets born”?)
The “days left to go” have officially dropped down from triple digits, and now number at 99. I can’t believe I’ll be 26 weeks along tomorrow! I’ve seriously been meaning to get a belly pic for this kicking little progeny for over 2 weeks now. It’s crazy! Everyone of my family who said my belly was “tiny” two weeks ago probably wouldn’t think so now. And while I remember all too well that I can and will get bigger (I’m trying to block the mental images of my belly at full-term), it still seems impossible. Even so, I’m giving serious consideration to doing a belly cast just in case the baby factory closes after this one’s done cooking.
I’m hovering around 19 pounds of weight gain. I’m slightly more freaked about total weight gain this time than I was last time, but that doesn’t stop me from eating daily doses of things like cake, ice cream and chocolate. (Don’t worry! I also get good things like fruit, greek yogurt and baby carrots. . .)
I feel so hurried with life that it’s hard to remind myself to slow down and enjoy feeling this baby. I feel like during my pregnancy with C, I was so much more in tune with every little movement and felt more bonded with him. With this baby, I have to remind myself that there’s a baby in there and that he’s getting bigger every day. Still, this doesn’t leave me with the all-too-common worry that I won’t love this baby as much as I do C. My bigger worry is that I’ll be able to keep loving C the same (and more!) after the baby. When we had C, M and I went from a straight line to a triangle, and I remember that being a very scary prospect. And now, adding one more means we’ll have to pound those angles out to a nice, round circle. It’s just what happens when you have a new addition to a family, but being “under construction” isn’t always so tidy a process.
My confidence is more shaky this time around. I don’t know how that’s possible, since my pregnancy with C was my first full-term pregnancy. But, I know precisely what can possibly go wrong (I’ve heard way too many sad, but touching stories since I’ve been pregnant) and I just don’t think I have the first-time-everything-will-be-ok confidence I had last time. My biggest fear is losing the baby to pre-term birth. Even being 26 weeks along does little to assuage that fear, because when I think I’m almost out of the danger zone and into the safety net that 27 weeks provides, the statistic floats up that baby boys are more underdeveloped and have less fight than baby girls.
Still, this pregnancy is also more fun and exciting in some ways. M is also incredibly excited, now that having one has made the process that much more tangible and real for him than it was last time. Plus, this time we get to share the experience with C, who pats my belly and says “when dis baby is done growing, he’s gonna come see us”. (What else are you gonna tell a 2 year old when he pulls my shirt up and asks to see the baby – the same way he can see his “baby” (aka mini Pooh bear) when you zip down his jammies and baby bear “gets born”?)
~Nichole
Update at 23 Weeks
1.31.2012
It has occurred to me that I haven’t updated a whole lot during this pregnancy. So, here’s a brief comparison of this time to last time, chart-style:
LESS
boobs
fatigue
weight gain
hair (thickness)
water drinking
chili dogs
patience
MORE
belly
morning sickness
headaches
hair (length)
prenatal taking
baby carrots
breathlessness
NEVER BEFORE
taking belly pictures
excessive saliva
consistently stuffy nose & sneezing
time is flying!
name already picked out
absolute commitment to make nursing work
having to worry about picking C up
LESS
boobs
fatigue
weight gain
hair (thickness)
water drinking
chili dogs
patience
MORE
belly
morning sickness
headaches
hair (length)
prenatal taking
baby carrots
breathlessness
NEVER BEFORE
taking belly pictures
excessive saliva
consistently stuffy nose & sneezing
time is flying!
name already picked out
absolute commitment to make nursing work
having to worry about picking C up
~Nichole
Honeymoon Phase
12.21.2011
Maybe it’s the lack of sleep from all the pregnancy insomnia or the fact that I am no longer doing Alice impressions (in fact, Alice seems to have left the building), but I swear the oddest things happened yesterday.
First, I woke up at the crack of stupid (in this case, around 3:00 a.m.) with a full bladder and the inability to fetch sleep back to my bed.
Then, I went to my doc appt. Dr. M reviewed the results of my nuchal fold test with me. He told me my risk profile for genetic problems looks like someone in their 20s. Stunned, I made some offhand comment that I always knew prematurity would work in my favor someday. He said “or immaturity.” And I said, “whichever it is, I’ll take it!”
But on the inside, I was all “that means we could probably go for 3 if we want”. And I was all “what the wha----?” and in my brain, I was kicking that other, more optimistic self in the tenders because when I was playing Alice down in that dark, deep hole, I swore I never wanted to do this again!
{And this, my friends, is why I call this trimester the “honeymoon” trimester. . . because we’re all swoony and in love with the being pregnant and it’s all great and fine and wonderful and birds and angels sing when our bellies pop and we feel baby movement. . . . until the crap hits the proverbial fan and we run out of abdominal real estate and have a body tenderize and mash up our nethers and our face (and then some) looks like an inhabitant of zombieland. Honeymoon over.}
His voice hailing me back to reality, Dr. M moved my due date up four days to May 31. Then I got to hear the hearbeat and Dr. M said something about the heart rate being girly, but I told him I remained on the fence. And then he asked about baby movement and I told him I was skeptical – because what I think might be baby might just as easily be intestinal passage of some sort.
But then, when I was sitting in a drive thru about a half hour later, I felt a little *bump! and I went “Oh.My.Gosh! That was a baby!” I texted M with crazyfingers and he called me and we laughed and hung up only after he said he’s So Excited for the anatomy scan in a few weeks.
First, I woke up at the crack of stupid (in this case, around 3:00 a.m.) with a full bladder and the inability to fetch sleep back to my bed.
Then, I went to my doc appt. Dr. M reviewed the results of my nuchal fold test with me. He told me my risk profile for genetic problems looks like someone in their 20s. Stunned, I made some offhand comment that I always knew prematurity would work in my favor someday. He said “or immaturity.” And I said, “whichever it is, I’ll take it!”
But on the inside, I was all “that means we could probably go for 3 if we want”. And I was all “what the wha----?” and in my brain, I was kicking that other, more optimistic self in the tenders because when I was playing Alice down in that dark, deep hole, I swore I never wanted to do this again!
{And this, my friends, is why I call this trimester the “honeymoon” trimester. . . because we’re all swoony and in love with the being pregnant and it’s all great and fine and wonderful and birds and angels sing when our bellies pop and we feel baby movement. . . . until the crap hits the proverbial fan and we run out of abdominal real estate and have a body tenderize and mash up our nethers and our face (and then some) looks like an inhabitant of zombieland. Honeymoon over.}
His voice hailing me back to reality, Dr. M moved my due date up four days to May 31. Then I got to hear the hearbeat and Dr. M said something about the heart rate being girly, but I told him I remained on the fence. And then he asked about baby movement and I told him I was skeptical – because what I think might be baby might just as easily be intestinal passage of some sort.
But then, when I was sitting in a drive thru about a half hour later, I felt a little *bump! and I went “Oh.My.Gosh! That was a baby!” I texted M with crazyfingers and he called me and we laughed and hung up only after he said he’s So Excited for the anatomy scan in a few weeks.
~Nichole
Alice is Still in Underland
12.19.2011
November 8, 2011
I think (hope!) I am almost done playing Alice to this pregnancy’s rabbit hole. You’ll recall I fell down into it around week 5. Last week, during week 8, I was climbing back out, only to go tumbling into a downward spiral once again.
I am nearing 10 weeks, feeling about 50% more surfaced, and – given some extenuating life circumstances – decided to break the good news/bad news to my boss. (Good news: he doesn’t have to worry about me going to part-time status any time in the foreseeable future. Bad news: He will need to find someone to work from him next summer.)
So, naturally, my brain starts devising a list of things I will due during my 12 week hiatus. Because in my fantasies, my second maternity leave is much like the first in that there is a squishy snuggly newborn and no 2.5 year old running about. In my fantasies, my second mat leave will include:
· a Harry Potter marathon
· gratuitous photo book updating
· naps!
· Friends on DVD
· morning walks (so long as the weather is temperate)
· lunch dates
I think (hope!) I am almost done playing Alice to this pregnancy’s rabbit hole. You’ll recall I fell down into it around week 5. Last week, during week 8, I was climbing back out, only to go tumbling into a downward spiral once again.
I am nearing 10 weeks, feeling about 50% more surfaced, and – given some extenuating life circumstances – decided to break the good news/bad news to my boss. (Good news: he doesn’t have to worry about me going to part-time status any time in the foreseeable future. Bad news: He will need to find someone to work from him next summer.)
So, naturally, my brain starts devising a list of things I will due during my 12 week hiatus. Because in my fantasies, my second maternity leave is much like the first in that there is a squishy snuggly newborn and no 2.5 year old running about. In my fantasies, my second mat leave will include:
· a Harry Potter marathon
· gratuitous photo book updating
· naps!
· Friends on DVD
· morning walks (so long as the weather is temperate)
· lunch dates
~Nichole
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