Madelyn Mary Jane, Part 1

Baby Girl #2 has arrived!  It was a surprise all the way until the end for me as to whether baby was going to be a boy or a girl.  My husband cheated and looked back in February, but that was to be expected.

I’m going to try to get through my second birth story as quickly as possible.  I’m already back from maternity leave, but trying to blog with two kids at home was pretty much never going to happen.  They like to take opposite naps so that mama could never nap.

On Thursday, March 23, 2017, I woke up and let my mom in (thankfully, she babysits for us on Thursdays and even brings us breakfast usually so that we don’t have to worry about getting Kenzie’s food ready).  I don’t think Kenzie was awake yet, so I went back upstairs to start getting ready.  I opted to shower on this day because I have more time on Thursdays.  I remember when I used to shower every day.  HA.  HAHAHA.

I turned on the shower, and then went to the bathroom (pee).  Sorry if TMI, but that is somewhat important in the retelling of this fantastic story.

I was just about to jump in the shower when I sneezed.

BAM.  My water broke!

I believe my exact words were, “YESSSSS.   Ah, SHITTTTTTT”

I was quite relieved that I knew it was my water breaking.  I obviously wasn’t peeing on myself since I had just gone.  And thank God I didn’t get in the shower sooner, because I might not have noticed the steady gush of water.  Since my water also broke when I was pregnant with my first daughter (after I had a good, hard laugh), I was worried that I wouldn’t know when it was go-time if I started having contractions first.  My main fear was that it would be too late to administer the wonderful epidural.

I was only a week and a half ahead of schedule, and that was okay with me (I was a month early with my first daughter, so there were fears of her lungs not being as developed, etc – but she was all good as it turned out!)

I slowly waddled into our room wrapped in a towel.

Me:  “Babe, my water just broke”

Mike:  “Are you sure you didn’t pee on yourself?”   (oh, funny guy)

Me:  “YES!

Mike:  “Do I have time to shower?”  (again, hilarious)

Me:  “Whatever, just do it fast”  (this is where I should have said no, that I would be taking a shower since I didn’t end up showering at the hospital at all.  I did little sink baths instead, but I decided that sleep was more precious than showering).

I called the triage/ on-call number for my doctor and asked them to page her and to have her call me.  The nurse says, “well, let me see who is on call” – I said, “No no no, she wanted to be paged when my water broke, so please only page her” – I know they have a process, but I wasn’t feeling like fighting with anyone to make sure my doctor knew what was up.  A few minutes later, my doctor calls me.  Sounds like she is in a parking garage somewhere because her voice is in and out.  I have to repeat myself several times, “MY WATER BROKE!” praying that she heard me correctly.  And before her line cut out, I vaguely heard, “Okay, head to the hospital and I will call to let them know you are coming”  Cool.  Cool cool cool.

So I went downstairs to explain the situation to my mom.  I was conflicted about telling her.  I didn’t want her to freak out since she would need to stay at our house to take care of Kenzie.  She was excited.  I told her I was going to sit down and eat while Mike showered.

They would not allow me to eat while I was at the hospital last time.  I understand that if something were to go wrong, they’d need to do a c-section and food is bad in that case.  Whatever.  I knew I wasn’t going to have a c-section.   So it was breakfast burrito time!

Mike proceeds to come downstairs and yell at me for eating.  I tell him to shut it since he is not the one currently leaking amniotic fluid or having contractions.  I still only had one breakfast burrito instead of two since he made me feel guilty.

Kenzie was still sleeping, which made me really sad because I really wanted one last snuggle with her.  And then it was time to head to the hospital.  This time, I actually had my hospital bag packed!   Even including an outfit for new baby.  I felt so prepared for once in my life!

We get in Mike’s car, and I am sitting on a towel.  The leaking seems to have stopped.  Of course I didn’t have any pads on hand to try to soak up everything.  I’m still in my sweatpants, looking good.  The hospital is literally 5 minutes from our house (pretty convenient).   We pull up to entrance C, and of course there is no parking nearby (I told Mike I was fine walking, and he refused to valet the car).  So he lets me out at the door.  As soon as I stand up, it felt like a gallon of water fell out of me.  I wait for Mike before I jump on the elevator.  At this point, it looks like I peed myself pretty bad, because every time I move a muscle, another gush comes out.

STAY TUNED…

 

 

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Stop Getting My Kid Sick / My Unplanned Hospital Visit

I don’t even want to write about this experience because it was such a terrible one to endure, but if it will help someone out by reading it, then it will have been worth it.

I always thought dehydration was a joke.  I was always getting sick with my first pregnancy, keeping very little food down.  Water even made me nauseous.  I always asked my doctor if I could get too dehydrated and at what point should I be worried.  She didn’t seem super concerned and told me if I could not keep ANY food or drink down within an 8 hour period to call her office.  I never really got to that point, because eventually, I would have a Taco Bell craving or fountain Pepsi craving and would be able to keep all of that down, shockingly.

The difference this time was that the dehydration that came on was not pregnancy/ morning sickness related.  It was caused by some nasty stomach bug – probably the fancy norovirus that has been in the headlines so often as of late.  Here is a nice article explaining the virus if you are not aware of just how nasty it can be:  Norovirus

Anyhow, this was easily the worst stomach bug I have ever had in my life.  And having it while 8 months pregnant…multiply it by 10.

My daughter had thrown up twice the Sunday before, but nothing else.  She was fine by Tuesday.  Her little buddies at the babysitter’s house were the ones who got her sick.  I later found out that the parents were sending their kids if they had puked that morning, thinking or hoping it was “just a fluke” or the food that was bothering them.  Not the case, assholes.  The problem is, many of the parents are teachers, so their time off is limited.  I understand it is not super convenient to take a day off at the last minute and have to find a substitute, etc.  And I understand that you probably don’t get as much time off as someone with a non-teaching job.

Unfortunately, I DON’T GIVE A FUCK.  Like I had said before, my daughter threw up twice on Sunday night.  No WAY was I about to send her to the babysitter’s on Monday “hoping” that her symptoms would magically disappear.  She had no other symptoms.  No diarrhea.  But, in my mind, I make the decision to do what I hope other parents would do in the same situation.  So I keep her home one more day to ensure that she’s not going to infect other kids.  My work is still piling up.  And I’m using sick time that I was trying to save for after baby #2 was born so that I can get paid for as much as possible since my job does not offer paid maternity leave.  Doesn’t always work out though, and you have to just go with it and put your kids’ best interests before your own.

So, I’m at work on Tuesday and feeling fine.  Around 11 a.m., I get a sudden rush of nausea and have to run to the bathroom to puke.  Almost didn’t make it.  At this point, I’m trying to figure out if this is morning sickness related, or if I have caught the infamous bug.   Not even 20 minutes later, I was running for the bathroom again to puke.  Yep, definitely not pregnancy related.  I headed out of work immediately leaving a trail of antibacterial sanitizer in hopes of not getting anyone else sick.  Called the babysitter and told her I would be dropping off the carseat and that Mike would be picking Kenzie up after work instead of me.  I have no idea how I made it the whole 30 minute drive without having to pull over and vomit out the window, but I did!  I tried taking the smallest sips of Gatorade, just to keep myself a little hydrated.  But as soon as I walked in the door, I was throwing up again.  There was nothing left in my stomach to throw up.  At this point, I was getting a little worried.  I thought if I tried to lay down, that would help.   NOPE.  Three more times, dry heaving and throwing up straight bile.  That is when I decided to call my doctor.

Doctor is on vacation this week.  WELL OF COURSE SHE IS!  Luckily the nurses were still there taking calls.  She told me if I started cramping or feeling contractions or thought I was dehydrated, to go directly to the hospital since I was so far along.  Well, how do I make that call?  I didn’t want to be the girl who cried wolf and didn’t really need to be admitted for something as lame as dehydration.  I puked twice more after that.  Called my mother-in-law, who works five minutes from our house to come pick me up to take me to the hospital.  I felt like such a loser.

As it turns out, it was the best decision I’ve made in awhile, probably.  I was severely dehydrated AND having contractions.  I couldn’t even feel the contractions, but they were occurring, and definitely due to the dehydration.  Had I waited, I likely would have gone into full fledged pre-term labor at 32 weeks.  The baby’s heart rate was all over the place, so they kept me overnight.  It took five IV bags of fluids to rehydrate me.  They also gave me zofran for the nausea, but that didn’t do much for me.  They also put me on Tamiflu, just as a precaution.  I didn’t get any real sleep until about 5 a.m. the next morning.  I had such bad heartburn when I would try to lay down (from what – there was nothing left in my system!), that I would toss and turn.  Between that and the baby monitor moving around so much, the nurses were constantly in there readjusting me and taking blood.  I was finally able to keep some broth down at 4 a.m. after a failed attempt at orange Jello (I will never eat Jello again now) – and let me tell you, broth NEVER tasted so good!

I got to go home the next evening.  I was so excited to go home and sleep in my own bed, without any monitors attached to me.  I was told I could not return to work until Monday of the next week (I got home that Wednesday – yayyyy, more sick time wasted and baby #2 isn’t even here yet).  Even though I was home, I was still so sick up until that next Tuesday.  Easily the worst I have ever felt in my life.  I would have almost preferred to stay in the hospital had I known how weak and useless I would be at home with my toddler.  Thank God for my husband, who still took Kenzie to the babysitter’s so that I could rest for the days he had to work, and continued to take care of her when they got home, even though he wasn’t feeling his best.

I will be 35 weeks this Sunday, and I am so happy that baby is still safe and growing.  Moral of the story:  Dehydration is no joke when you are in your third trimester.  You do what you need to do to make sure baby stays put as long as possible.  Fingers crossed that babe will stay put for at least another two weeks.  Can’t wait to meet the newest addition, and I can’t wait to see how Kenzie reacts when she realizes this kid will be with us for the long haul.

33 Weeks and 4 Days

After I showered this morning, I looked down and thought the following things:

(1)  Shit, I should really shave my legs soon.  This will be embarrassing if I go into labor.

(2)  Shit, I really need to schedule a bikini wax.  This will be embarrassing if I go into labor.

A few things happened during my first labor and delivery.  I was lucky, you could say.  The day my water broke, I was at a bridal shower for my sister-in-law.  It was April, so I was wearing a cute wrap dress and heels.  I was required to look nice, so I had just shaved my legs that morning, straightened my hair, and even did my nails.

I had also started on my every-few-week bikini waxes.  Really, just another excuse to go to the spa and get something else done.  So I got my bikini wax the Thursday before I went into labor.  Again, perfect timing.  Even though I didn’t know in advance that I would end up having to get an episiotomy, I was lucky with that, too (in my opinion).  I feel like the less going on down there, the better off you are when someone is trying to stitch up your lady parts.

My fear is that this time, everything will be the opposite.  Meaning I might actually feel the contractions before my water breaks (if it breaks at all prematurely), that I will have put off shaving my legs too long, or that I will have missed my bikini wax appointment.  I know – some of these things are stupid, but I think I took them for granted last time because everything just worked out so well!

The good news is that the chances of my water breaking early are higher because it has already happened to me.  As long as I have time to get that epidural in, I will be okay.  That is the part that scares me the most, honestly.  How can it ever get easier to let someone insert a needle into your spine without moving a muscle?

I also asked my doctor if I would end up needing another episiotomy this time around.  The recovery sucked big time (again, in my experience, the recovery was worse than the actual labor and delivery process for sure).  She said it would be very unlikely that I would need to get cut again, because my body “knows what to do” this time around, and as such, labor shouldn’t last as long (so she says).

I was in the hospital last week for dehydration and contractions (I will save the details for a different post), but they ended up doing a bedside ultrasound to check on baby.  This was nice because I didn’t get to have one that late in the game for my first because she was so early.  Anyhow, the ultrasound tech showed me the kid already has two centimeters of hair on his or her head.  THANKS FOR THE HEARTBURN!  Oh well, at least we won’t have a bald baby 🙂

WE COULD HAVE BABY #2 IN TWO WEEKS!  YIKES!

 

 

Potty Training & Other Fun Topics (+31 weeks pregnant)

I type this as my eyes are closing.  It’s only 1:47 p.m. on a Monday, but I am getting more exhausted by the day.  I need to hire a personal chef, driver, stylist, and maid.  I’m sure I’m leaving something out.  Oh, pregnancy.  Just put me out of my misery.

I just wanted to document that Kenzie used her potty for the first time on her own!  Could not be more proud of my girl.

We only just bought the fake potty (see here:  Fisher Price Potty Light Up) last weekend.  I thought it was going to be a few months before she even considered taking it for a spin.  Of course I had high hopes last weekend and thought I would have her going in the potty immediately (ha, I’m so dumb).  She was merely interested in the fake flushing mechanism of her new toy and that it lit up and talked upon flushing the handle.

So last night, little chica was sitting on my lap as I was reading a Sesame Street book to her.  All of the sudden, my leg got really warm, so I know she had peed in her diaper.  I stopped reading and said, “Kenz, you are supposed to tell me when you have to potty, remember?”  and she replied with, “potty!”…so I figured why not try.  It was nearly time for her bubble bath, so I raced her up the stairs to the bathroom thinking maybe she had some left in her.  I said, “You sit on the potty while I fill up your bath tub, okay?”  and she replied, “okay!”…so I helped her take off her pants and diaper, and she promptly sat down on her little toy.  She sat longer than she normally did before, and all of the sudden, I heard a little bit trickle out!  And of course, there is a sensor at the bottom of her potty that sings “You went potty!!” when something fills it, even just a little.  I screamed for Mike and then told her how happy and proud I was of her.  Then I went and got her a sticker to put on her potty (I thought I would start with the sticker system, even if she just tries, she will get a sticker to put on the back of her potty).

I know she is not magically trained now and there is much work to be done still, but this is a huge milestone!  Now the babysitter can also be on board with potty training during the day (she also does the sticker system).  I understand she might regress after the new baby comes along, but that is to be expected.

The two main things that I wanted to have in motion prior to delivering baby number 2 were:

(1)  have Kenzie sleeping in her big girl bed consistently (her big girl bed is a freaking queen size Simmons complete with pillow top – I bought it when I moved out on my own, and it only got like two years of use – girl has got it made in the shade).  Fingers crossed all over the place that this new kiddo is a fan of the rock n’ play sleeper.  Kenzie HATED it and would only sleep on my chest.  Otherwise, it will be co-sleeping again for the first few months.  But that’s okay, because I feel slightly more prepared as to what my options will be if baby is not a good sleeper.

(2)  start potty training.  Successful start, and we will just keep on keepin’ on.

*I also wanted a deep freezer for breastmilk storage purposes.  Mike was always annoyed at how many frozen plastic containers I had spread all over our tiny freezer.  I told him to avoid that this time around, he needed to buy me a deep freezer.  Find a place for it – I don’t care where.  We will need it in the future with two kids, anyhow.  His main protest is that I will fill it with other crap and forget about it and then it will all be freezer burn/ spoiled/ etc.  So I have to keep bothering him about that to ensure that I get my way.

*I also tried to get him to buy a few sleepers at Target this weekend for the hospital.  Aden + Anais had these adorable sleepers on clearance:  Aden + Anais Sleeper   He was like, “what do we need those for?”  UH, for new baby at the hospital!!  The little wrap shirt that they put Kenzie in when she was born was a complete pain in the ass.  I want something that zips up easily – no buttons, straps, nothing over the head.  I want EASY this time.  So I have to keep fighting the good fight for that too, especially because I will probably tell Mike to leave us at the hospital so he can be with Kenzie overnight, and so he can get some rest as well.

*And finally, I am getting some pressure from people about having a second baby shower!  I guess people have “sprinkles” or whatever, but I’m pretty sure that is normally when you know you are having a baby of the opposite gender (which I don’t want to know), and normally is a much smaller gathering at someone’s house.  I don’t like to put people out.  If they want to buy us something, they will.  I’ll tell you this, I will want some good beer, sushi, and sandwiches following birth.  That’s all I want.  Oh, and maybe some special brownies for when my pain meds run out.  ::Is she kidding?::

Gestational Diabetes

Got the call Saturday to confirm from my doctor that I DO NOT have gestational diabetes (duh).  After three days of separate blood draws after 8 hours fasts, my glucose levels came back as follows:  74, 75, 75.  The normal range is between 70 and 100.  YEAH!  Not even close to the problem zone.

The nurses working in the lab told me how lucky I was that my doctor allowed me to check for GD this way.  Many of the doctors will make you take the one hour test again, or at minimum the three hour test.  NO THANKS.  I know what my body can handle, and I think my doctor realized this, seeing as this was the second pregnancy with the same reaction to the Glucola drink of death.  What I wish I had known in the past is that you can pretty much turn down any test that they want you to take.  It is your body.  Your baby.  If you don’t want to know if there are any birth defects, etc, that is your right.  It obviously would not change the fact that some would still proceed with the pregnancy.

Someone just asked me my due date at work.  I told them April 2.   The lady replied with, “So that means you could really go as early as March 2 if this pregnancy is similar to Kenzie’s, right?”    YIKES.  So yes, it could be less than two months before we have two children under two in our house.  What the fuck were we thinking?

To make things even more fun and exciting, we are going to start potty training our 20 month old.  Because what sounds like more fun than that while 7 months pregnant? I just cannot fathom having two in diapers.   What’s worse is that my husband doesn’t get it.  I think he believes that if we talk to her enough about it, she will just walk over to her little princess potty and pop a squat.  Uh, no.

I explained to him that starting this weekend, she would be walking around without pants or a diaper on.  His response:  I already had to potty train Rory (our dog) like that, I’m not doing that with a human.  We have to be 100% on board with this training method.  Realistically, we should do it when we have a 3 or 4 day weekend.  The good thing is that our babysitter will be on board whenever we are ready to start, so we will have that support too.

I already told him I would be cleaning up the messes out of the potty training potty because it grosses him out.  It’s funny, because he loves cleaning so much.  But when it comes to that stuff, no thanks.  He once accidentally dropped his razor into the toilet, because our cabinet is directly above the toilet (way to plan that).  He wouldn’t get it!  He made me do it.  There was nothing in the toilet, either – just clean water (I know, there are still germs in there, but grow up, man!)   If I wasn’t home, he would have fished it out with a hanger or something, and then thrown everything away (it was a brand new razor – he is insane).

And one more win for momma:  I got my husband to buy a recliner/ rocker.  A crucial component to new motherhood if you are breastfeeding.  I wish I had known ahead of time how important it would have been.  I thought I was doing us a favor and saving us some money.  In the long run, my posture and back suffered BIG TIME.  It’s hard to nurse a tiny little human when you are sitting on a bed or a deep sectional couch.  I felt like the hunchback of Notre Dame after a few months.  And NO, the Boppy did not help me at all.  Maybe my torso is too long/ too short?  Maybe my arms or shoulders weren’t strong enough for feeding on demand CONSTANTLY?  I really don’t know what it was, but I do know that a rocker/ recliner would have solved a lot of my issues with baby #1.  Looking forward to sitting on the rocker and watching Everybody Loves Raymond reruns in the middle of the night with baby #2.  I might even be able to fall asleep in that fancy chair!

 

Glucose Test – FAIL (2017 Edition)

Happy New Year!  Ready for my resolution?

(1)  Do not get pregnant again.  Ever.

I know what you are thinking.  She’s being dramatic.  Or the ever popular: How dare she hate on pregnancy – doesn’t she know there are many women who can’t have babies on their own?

Judge me all you want.

And now for my final day of 2016, and how I went out with a bang…

I scheduled my glucose test appointment for 7 a.m. on NYE.  I figured, who else would want to voluntarily get blood work done on NYE?   I will be in and out.  And that should have been the case.

In case you want to read about my glucose test with my first pregnancy, because who doesn’t want a good laugh, you can view that here:  Glucose Test – Pregnancy #1

After my last glucose experience, I did a lot of research as to why my body reacted the way it did.  My own not-a-doctor conclusion:  I’m at the opposite spectrum as gestational diabetes.  No one in my family has a history of diabetes.  My last baby did not weigh over 9 lbs.  I did not have substantial weight gain during pregnancy #1, and started this pregnancy off at my pre-pregnancy weight (big thank you to breastfeeding, because there is no time for “exercising” in my house).   So really, no reason to think that this pregnancy is going to be any different, other than the fact that I hope this baby stays put until at least week 37.

So I woke up bright and early that morning, and my husband even woke up to make me eggs.  I had already cleared this with my doctor.  She said eggs, plain greek yogurt, whole wheat toast, would all be good things to have in my stomach prior to drinking the death cola.  Protein.  Just not a bowl of Fruity Pebbles or Count Chocula, to my dismay.

I ate the eggs and a little bit of yogurt.  Then, a familiar feeling of nausea came over me.  “NOT TODAY!  NOT NOW!” was all I could think.  And before I knew it, I had thrown everything up.

It was about 10 minutes before I had to leave for the diagnostic center.  My nerves were setting in.  I grabbed the rest of the yogurt and an english muffin with peanut butter and headed out the door, thinking “if I can stomach just a little of this during my drive, I will be okay during the test”….onward.

I walked in, signed in, and they promptly called me back to drink the death cola.  I had explained to the woman what had happened before, just in case the same thing were to happen.  She was very nice about it and told the secretaries up front so that they could keep an eye on me, just in case.

Side note:  You get 5 minutes to drink the death cola.  I have never been a “chugger” so to speak.  As I’m sipping on the drink, the phlebotomist is just standing there watching me.  So I asked, “Uh, I have five minutes, right?”  And she responded with, “Yes, but I like to tell people to just chug it to get it out of the way”….NO PRESSURE.  What the hell.  Can’t I just sip this nastiness in peace for the five minutes I get?  I don’t think it helped my situation by chugging it.

So I was escorted back to the waiting room, where there were probably three other people waiting.  One of the nice secretaries came up to me and introduced herself.  She said to let her know if I started feeling dizzy or weak.  She also asked me to move so that she could have a better view of me from her seat, so that was nice.   But this also forced me to move to the section where the other people were sitting.  If I was going to pass out or puke, I would prefer to do that in private, thank you.

I brought a book with me this time, “Something Borrowed” – which I love.  I figured it would keep my attention and make me worry less.  So I popped that open and continuously read and reread the first two pages.  What was wrong with me?  So I put the book down and just started looking around the room.  I tried to get comfortable by sitting back a little and letting my arms just lay instead of trying to prop myself up.  I figured any extra form of burning energy would be bad news.

Approximately 20 minutes after I chugged the death cola, I started to feel it – exactly like the last time.  I started to sweat, shake, get dizzy, feel weak…ALL AT THE SAME TIME.  I quickly got the secretary’s attention.  She called the phlebotomist and then proceeded to bring a garbage can over to me.  The phlebotomist appeared seconds later with a wheelchair.  I thought I could hold off on the puking.  WRONG.  Puked my guts out in the waiting room.  And the most embarrassing part.  I managed to piss my own pants.   Every time I heaved, GUSH.  I was soaked by the time everything was out of my system.  Luckily, I was wearing dark jeans, so you couldn’t tell at all.   (PS:  This peeing while vomiting was NOT a thing during my first pregnancy – I assume it is part of the aftermath of pushing a kid out of your body – I also pee when I sneeze now too – RIDICULOUS).  So a big FUCK YOU to 2016.  It was just not my year.

After that, they wouldn’t let me drive myself home.  I was like, “GREAT, now I can call my husband who will have to wake up our daughter (girlfriend gets angry when she is woken up as opposed to waking up on her own), and then proceed to tell him that I need a change of pants because I peed myself in front of a few strangers – what a fantastic way to end 2016″….

Husband was great about it, though.  He even thought to bring me a new pair of underwear, even though I didn’t ask for them.  He bundled little chicky up and arrived about 20 minutes later with my change of clothes.  He didn’t make me feel like a loser, so that was nice.

After he picked me up, we went through the Panera drive thru (that’s how you could tell I really felt like crap – I didn’t want ANYTHING) and got Kenzie a parfait and a few bagels for the next morning.  I went to sleep as soon as I got home, and slept for a good 4 hours.  I got up, ate a little something, and then it was time for Kenzie’s nap.  I napped with her, for another 3 hours.  SO WONDERFUL.  My body clearly needed it.

Interesting website about healthy alternatives to the glucose test and what is in death cola (if your doctor allows, I guess):  Glucose Testing

Moral of the story:  We are only having two kids.  And if I ever start to forget why I said that, I will have this lovely blog to look back on as to why two kids will be our max.  And if I still have baby fever after this one for some reason, I’d like to use the wise words of my late grandma:  “Feel free to push me in front of the 342 PACE bus”

UPDATE:  I had my doctor’s appointment yesterday.  She said that she didn’t want to put me through the 3 hour glucose test, since my body clearly wasn’t handling it well and that she has such high doubts that I fall into the gestational diabetes category.  To satisfy the pediatrician of future baby, I do have to go to have my blood drawn on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday of next week, after fasting for 8 hours (no death cola).  This will just confirm that my levels are where they should be and that we have nothing to worry about.  I’ll take it and consider it a victory that I will never have to take the glucose test again (hopefully).

I also was lucky enough to get my RhoGAM shot yesterday because of my blood type being rh negative.  In the butt.  I will get another one immediately after delivery.  Yayyyy.

Now we are onto our check ups every two weeks.  Yayyyy.  Home stretch?  Nahhh.

 

20 more weeks of hell

Alright.  I give up.  I had a good run for a few weeks.  I had to practically run another employee our of restroom.

Now, for the second time in a week, I am getting sick mid-day.  At 20 weeks pregnant.  With an 18 month old to take care of.  And a full-time job to work.

I don’t even need to look at the ultrasound picture that my dear husband has been hiding from me.  I know it’s another girl.  Won’t need to focus on boy names.  Great.  Time saved.  And if anyone else asks me, “Well what if you don’t get your boy this time, aren’t you going to try again?”…STRAIGHT TO THE MOON.

I’m not really into rooting for one gender over the other, as long as the kid is healthy and not having to spend time in the NICU.  So the answer is NO, I don’t really give a shit if our last name moves on for another generation.  If we can raise two competent (or semi competent human beings), I consider that a success.

Going for a third, in my opinion, would be like tempting fate for us.  Mike already blames me for giving him Shingles last year.  *for the record, I did not give him Shingles, though he believes that I am the reason that caused them because I am so difficult and cause him so much stress in life (in the midst of trying to take care of a colicky newborn and trying to recover from a little thing called childbirth).  I should have made labor and delivery look much more difficult, but I can tolerate pain and managed it well.  Too well.  So next time, I’m putting on much more of a show.

Long story short, a third kid would both put us in the poor house, and likely set up impending divorce because I would be able to get even less housework done than I do now (which isn’t that much, truth be told).  Call me a negative nancy, but I value my relationship with my husband.  I know there are couples out there who can/ want to do it, and maybe that will in turn make their relationship stronger.  We are not that couple.  We still want to travel (with and without kids), and we want to be able to retire at a decent age and not have to worry about kids still living with us.  And I need to get myself a more challenging job.  This job is perfect for when the kiddos are tiny humans, but once they are in full day school, I’m out.  Call me selfish, but I would expect my kids to do the same thing.  Some women are made to be stay at home moms – and more power to you.  Some women have to work to keep their sanity.  I am one of those women.

Thanks for listening to me bitch.  Fingers crossed for a better evening and few days/ weeks ahead.

PS:  I’m already listening to Christmas music and LOVING it.   It works when I’m trying to drown out the terrible music and voices of certain co-workers.

PPS:  I asked my doctor if I would be required to take the shitty glucose test again with this child since I clearly am not at risk for gestational diabetes, per my last test and pregnancy.  She said yes, absolutely.  COOL.  So I asked her if I could eat a little something beforehand this time, because I’m not really into passing out.  To my surprise, she told me yes!  But she said to keep it to things without sugar.  So, eggs, whole grain toast…things like that would be good.  Totally doing that this time.  SCREW THE GLUCOSE TEST.  DAMN THE MAN.