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!

 

 

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.

The First Ear Infection

Last Thursday was easily the worst night/ morning we have EVER had with Kenzie.  Even counting her colicky stage.

At one point, I said to Mike (over screaming cries):  “We should just give this other child to your sister or something, I don’t think I’m equipped to handle two – I’m not cut out for this”  I was obviously joking, but it was so bad!  She wouldn’t even take any medicine because she was hysterical the entire time.  Just a little Tylenol would have helped the situation immensely, given she probably had terrible pain in her ear.

She eventually tired herself out around 9 and wanted to eat something (just jello), but then she was walking around like normal and laughing for about 45 minutes.  WHAT THE HELL.  I think she is good to go (if I were smart, I would have given her some tylenol in those 45 minutes of calm), and we head up to bed.  I lay her down.  THE WORLD IMPLODES.

Long story short, she finally went to bed at 4:30 a.m. because she just couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore.  She slept on my chest for a few hours before waking up for the day.

It is the ABSOLUTE WORST when your kid can’t tell you what is wrong.  I know everyone says that after your child starts talking in full sentences, you wish it would go back because they won’t shut up, but I am just so excited to soon be able to hold little conversation with her.  Her personality is so fun – she’s going to comical to talk with, if nothing else.

So, as soon as I am able to the next morning, I call her doctor’s office to get her in.  This was on a Friday.  The one downside to her pediatrician’s office is that they are closed on the weekends.  You have your ped’s cell phone number if you need to contact him or her, but of course, you feel like it has to be an absolute emergency to call them and you feel terrible doing it (I’ve done this twice, and he always sounds like he’s at a party – never rude or annoyed though).  It still sucks.

I get her an appointment at 10 a.m.   Another day I had to take off.  My boss is great about it, since he has four kids of his own.  But all I can focus on are my extra paid maternity leave days slipping away.  That’s okay, though, because I was there when my daughter needed me most.

The doctor checks her right ear first.  My biggest worry is that she’s going to say, “well, it’s probably just teething – just something you have to work through”….and then my head would have exploded.  Instead, she looks in the first ear and says, “Ooh, that one is definitely infected” – and checks the other one and says, “and this one is trying to get infected too”….A little bit of relief washes over me.  WHAT KIND OF PARENT IS HAPPY WHEN A DOCTOR TELLS THEM THEIR KID HAS AN EAR INFECTION?!  I was just so happy that there was a reason behind her hours and hours of crying.

So on the Amoxicillin she went!  18 months was a good run without needing any antibiotics.  For the record, she starting acting like her crazy self again almost immediately.  I hope the next time her ear hurts, she is just able to tell us 🙂

And to end this completely off-topic, the show “This is Us” is nowhere close to being as good as “Parenthood” was.  I just finished watching what I think was the 4th or 5th episode.  I find myself fast forwarding through much of the story lines (both brothers when they are in present times).  I have only been watching the overweight sister’s segments, and that ends up being like 15 minutes of the show and even that annoys me.  Get it together, NBC.  Nothing will ever replace Parenthood, so just bring it back, please.

PS:  I remembered to wear deodorant today and even got to shower!  Success all around.  And ultrasound is tomorrow to find out gender.  A big week for us all.  Stay tuned!

 

Sad Realization + Ultrasound Photo

So the other day, I got home and grabbed the mail while my chili and velveeta dip was heating (this is a new craving for me).

I find a pretty little Anthropologie catalog amongst the election day propaganda.  Immediately, I threw everything else to the side.  Grabbed my chili cheese dip and tortilla chips and Dr. Pepper.   Started perusing the catalog.  You see, sometimes, Anthro catalogs can be hit or miss.  In this situation, I pretty much loved everything I saw.  And OF COURSE I would.  I’m 12 weeks pregnant.  Why wouldn’t I love everything I saw?

So I start figuring out what I can pull off being a near-future fatty.   Good thing I like a lot of their cardigans and vest sweaters.  They won’t be snug at all, and I would have a shirt underneath it.  Win win.

Mike gets home and I show him my shopping list.

He says, “Normally, I would tell you to buy whatever you like.  But this is pointless!  You won’t even be able to wear those cords because your legs will be bigger”….

Uhhh, what world is he living in that he can assume that my legs will be enlarged immediately?  I mean, sure, it is possible.  I don’t exercise at all anymore, and walking up the stairs more than once makes me want to vomit.  Maybe in my third trimester, food will actually be appetizing again and then I will be making up for lost time.  But in my world, I still get a full stomach really quickly.  I’m not going to start forcing food down my throat and make myself uncomfortable.  My doctor told me NOT to do that, and basically NOT to listen to any of the fools who bother me about my eating habits.

I still know that it doesn’t make sense to purchase a $200 pair of cords that I will likely only be able to wear for a month.  I hear that measurements change a bit after delivering a baby (ha!), so who knows.  I am still going to fight for those cardigans and boots, though!!  🙂

Oh, and something terrible that I have learned.  Whenever I eat something sweet, I end up with this TERRIBLE aftertaste!  I carry cinnamon gum with me everywhere now.

So, we finally told Mike’s sister last night.  And we will be telling more of his family members on Sunday.  Pretty excited for that.

I have another doctor appointment on Monday, November 17.  Hopefully, that will be an easier appointment than the first one.  Fingers crossed!

Ultrasound photo!

ultrasound2