Ask and Ye Shall Receive

Remember how I said I couldn't wait 3 more weeks? Well neither could 5 lb 13 oz Logan Charley. Born Sunday at 1:45 pm. Updates to follow...

Waddling Along

My first son came 2 weeks early.  All during this pregnancy, I have assumed that this son will come early too.  I have even kind of planned on it.  If he's 2 weeks early, my delivery is only a week and a half away. 

Recently, it occurred to me that I have no control over that, and I could possibly go until my due date or even later.  Previous births are not a reliable indicator as far as I have heard.  So that means, it could be as many as 3 and a half weeks away. 

Um.

I don't see how that can be humanly possible.  I can't breathe or sleep or eat or even lie down without wanting to vomit the acid creeping into my esophagus.  And I have started getting stretch marks on my belly.  Stretch marks.  I know that's normal and all but I didn't get ANY the first time and now, at 36 weeks, I already have them.  What is my belly going to look like if this baby stays in there another 4 weeks???

And my ass has cellulite.  Cellulite.  I've never had cellulite before.  I'm lucky, I know.  But now it's there and will it ever go away again? 

Next week, Dr. Awesome is out of town so obviously I can't have my baby while she's not here.  So I'm holding out until 38 weeks and then I'm going to walk like a thousand miles a day and eat hot sauce from packets and bone my husband every day. 

In other news, I have had a lovely little cough that makes me piss myself every time.  It's pretty.  Also, today is an especially springy day and I am loving it, even though it's supposed to snow again tomorrow.  The baby's room is almost complete, I just need a dresser and to find this kid a name so I can buy those cliche letters to hang on his wall.  Bugs starts soccer again this week and we already missed the first practice... I think that might just be how this season goes.

Why Yes, I Did Wear Slippers to Work Today

Because my feet are giant marshmallows.  Also my wedding ring doesn't fit anymore.  I went to the doctor yesterday and have gained 5 pounds in the last 2 weeks.

I blame the Girl Scouts of America.

In other news, I decided a month was long enough without shaving my legs or my vag (plus I had the group b strep swab thing yesterday) so I actually had to sit my ass down in the shower (teeny tiny shower) and shave some things.  When I stood up, my legs were purple and tingly because apparently I can't sit down without cutting the circulation off to my lower extremities. 

Speaking of the group b strep swab thing....  holy fuck did I feel violated.  They stick it in places where stuff shouldn't be stuck.  Plus then she checked my cervix.  So all sorts of orifices were enraged.  I am slightly dilated, but not much, which is good because my doctor decided to go out of town in 2 weeks. 

I. can't. have. this. baby. if. my. doctor. isn't. here. 

I love her.  I worship her.  And she is on board with the most important, key parts of my birth plan.  Mainly, that my husband is going to deliver the baby.  If some other doctor is there and says no, I will literally get up and go give birth in my car in the parking lot.  It's that important to us.

I'm sick.

And tired.

And grumpy.

But you can't tell right? 

Hopefully people won't notice when I switch to crocs full time either.

L & D (or How I Spent Last Friday)

Friday at work I noticed that I was having quite frequent contractions.  I've been down this road before with the old Braxton Hicks so at first I wasn't too concerned.  But then, they changed.  They were not painful at all, but they were different and uncomfortable.   (I wonder if the way I think of italicized words in my head translates to you dudes when you read my blog.  Or if you're all like, WTF, why does she always uses italics?)  So I started timing them.  My doctors office has told me to head to labor and delivery if I have more than 4 contractions in an hour (or is it 6?)  Can't remember, but I had 10 in an hour.  Which seemed like a lot.  So I decided to go get checked out.

I was totally fine and not really worried but when I told my boss I had to go to the hospital, he got all concerned and asked if I was ok and gave me a hug.  So then I started crying.  I don't even know why.  I wasn't really upset.  I guess I'm just a cryer.  Then he was convinced that I couldn't drive myself to the hospital, so a team was recruited to get me and my car there.  2 of my work pals took me and on the way, I couldn't get in touch with Hubs because he was in a meeting.  The girls didn't want to leave me at the hospital alone, so they stayed with me for a bit and got to hear my entire medical history, including the last time I had intercourse.  (P.S.  I love the word "intercourse.")

As it turns out, my cervix wasn't dilating, so they weren't overly concerned.  They did give me some meds to slow the contractions and I was there for a few hours to be monitored then sent home with no restrictions. 

Look baby, I don't even have any diapers for you yet, your bedroom has no curtains, it's snowing today, I need to work for a few more weeks, and you are just not old enough to come out yet.  So calm down and hang in there a few more weeks until everyone is ready for you to come out.  And by everyone, I mean me.  K thanks.

Fiddlesticks

Have you ever had one of those periods of time where stuff keeps going wrong?  When at some point, you just have to start laughing about it or you might cry or possibly slit your wrists.  (That's a joke.  I'm not suicidal.  Swear.)  Well I had one of those weekends with the Hubs.  One where all of our issues came out repeatedly.  It's defeating and overwhelming and just really fucking annoying, to be honest. 

The fight lingered over to this morning when we were trying to get our little guy ready for school.  Bugs has a tendency to not hurry in the slightest and couldn't find his back pack or his shoes or even seem to get out of the tub at any point.  I was still sad from the endless arguing, oh yeah, and I'm eight months pregnant so finally I just sat down on Bugs's bed and started crying.  Because I couldn't find his back pack or shoes either.  So then he was a half hour late for school.

And then I got fried chicken for breakfast.  And talked to one of my bff's so she could tell me I was right.  I might get a five dollar coffee too.  And then, I'm going to work a little on forgiveness.  Forgiving myself for not handling things the way I always want to, and forgiveness for him because he has fucked up a lot and I need to let it go.  Then I'm going to focus more attention on getting to be the person I want to be and mostly, I'm going to not let anything ruin the last 6 weeks of this miracle I am experiencing.

So sugar coat now... figure out a more long-term plan later.  That always works right?