End of the Ticker!

Am I really up to the last baby on that ticker up there? Why, I remember when it was just a little embryo with legs! It is satisfying to see that I am on that last baby. It justifies how how much pain I am in sometimes. And how nervous I am. And how almost nothing fits anymore- even my maternity clothes. I'm pretty stressed out. I would be okay if it was the normal end of pregnancy stress stuff. Or the normal holiday preparation stuff. Or the normal construction headache stuff. But everything combined is really getting to me. I'm just trying to control the things that I can and cope with the things that I can't. This means enjoying the positive parts of what's left of the pregnancy, doing as much holiday/post baby cooking that I can (or that my freezer can accommodate), and accepting the fact that my constant supervision and involvement can only go so far in the construction time line. We're almost there...

Case in Cup

Allow me to share with you a story from this morning’s doctor’s appointment that will illustrate the legitimacy of two common pregnancy complaints. The first is “pregnancy brain.” Not just an excuse for being flaky, there are scientific reasons for this phenomenon. The second complaint is that of frequent urination, due to a person constantly head-butting the pregnant woman’s bladder. I often complain that as soon as I stand up from using the bathroom I have to go again. This morning, I proved this to be no exaggeration. Here is what happened:

I went in for a regular check-up. The nurse and I chatted away while she took my weight and blood pressure. She was pregnant when I was pregnant with Lilah, and we ended up delivering our babies on the same day, just rooms apart in the hospital. So we have a nice little nurse-patient bond. At every appointment after she takes my weight and blood pressure (or sometimes before, depending on how long I’ve been waiting) I go to the bathroom to leave my urine sample. Today was no different. However, as soon as I finished using the bathroom I realized that I had totally forgotten about the sample. I was washing my hands and looking at the plastic cups and black marker and realized what I had done. I went over the options in my head: tell the doctor what happened and ask to try again after the appointment or just walk out and don’t worry about the sample this week, both of which would make me look like an idiot. Then it occurred to me that if I sat back down, I just might be able to try again. Lo, and behold, a mere few seconds after zipping up (er, pulling up my big old elastic-waisted maternity jeans) I had no trouble at all filling up that plastic cup.

Moral of the story: pregnant women’s brains and bladders truly do not function normally. But once in a while that may prove to be a good thing.

Weary Traveler

Synopsis of the past three weeks:

Packed for Charleston
Packed for home
Packed for Cleveland
Packed for home
Packed for Atlanta
Packed for home

The next suitcase I'm packing is my hospital bag.

Always Read (and HEED!) the Instructions

I literally just opened a can of whoop-ass on my son. In an act of third trimester indulgence, I set out to make these scrumptious biscuits.



I did not think much of this warning.



Which resulted in this welt on my belly, right where my baby likes to push his tushy:
(It looks and feels worse in person than it does in this picture.)


These biscuits better be worth it.

Third Trimester, Third Time Around

I am officially in the third trimester now! I am indeed feeling heavy with child. And heavy with things to do...

By this point in my pregnancy with my oldest, she had a name, a decorated nursery, and a closet full of little dresses. Her baby book was up-to-date, as was a carefully organized baby registry.

By this point in my pregnancy with my second, she had a first name, with several contenders as middle names. She had a decorated nursery, as we concentrated on finishing her sister's new and exciting big girl room.

This baby has an empty crib in what is still very much the guest room. He has some form of a name of the person he will be named for, but the exact form or if it is to be used for his first or middle name is still up in the air. That's about it. I sort of had this flash of remembrance last week that it takes 12 weeks for furniture to come in once you order it. I went to one store and picked out what I wanted. I still haven't actually ordered it. At the next store I picked up one outfit on clearance and a baby book, though I have no idea when I will start filling it in.

There is much to be done for the little guy. Time to get my nesting on.

Making Room in the Nest

Last week I posted about Lilah leaving the nest. This weekend she quite literally left her nest, a.k.a. her crib. I originally thought I would not have to make this transition until Septemberish. However, we are going away for a week in August, and rather than shlep the pack 'n play and risk her not sleeping well in it anyways, I decided to have her be adjusted to a bed by then. Even though I knew this was the logical choice, I really dreaded moving her into a bed. For me, the crib to bed transition was the worst transition to date in the history of me being a parent. We had a horrible week or so of transitioning Sophie at night, and then I spent a good month or more napping with her every single day. It really took a toll on me. I decided to take things slow with Lilah. For starters, instead of moving Lilah to a completely new bedroom as we had done with Sophie, we were able to just put a bed in her existing room. We began rocking, reading, etc. on her bed at nap time and bedtime instead of in the glider. Each time I would ask her if she wanted to sleep in her bed. Once or twice she said yes, but then changed her mind. Mostly, she said no and I put her straight into the crib. I didn't push it at all. I wanted it to be her choice (I mentally gave her an end of July deadline). Plus, putting her in a crib was easier for me. I could just put her in a crib and walk away. Even if it took her a long time to fall asleep, or she never ended up falling asleep at all, she was safely contained. I could GET STUFF DONE (my eternal quest in life). But, lo and behold, Friday night when Shimmy put her to bed she agreed to sleep in her bed. And she only came out twice during the night. Since she had a successful night we decided this was it- no turning back. Saturday afternoon she didn't want to nap in the bed, so I offered to nap with her. I napped, she did not. I kept her in the bed for an hour and then called it quits. Saturday night she went to sleep with no problems and stayed in bed until 6:00am, at which point I got in bed with her and we went back to sleep until 8:30am. Sunday afternoon we took the crib apart and reassembled it in the baby's room. Lilah napped, but only because Shimmy stayed with her the whole time. Sunday night she slept all night until 7:00am! This afternoon she napped without me! So far this has been a pretty successful transition- certainly easier than it was with Sophie! PHEW! Moving the crib was the first step of many in my nesting for Baby #3. YAY- I LOVE THE NESTING PART!!!


Lilah's new bed!


The crib, relocated, with the mattress adorably in the highest position. Pay no attention to anything but the crib. While it is in what will be the baby's room, it isn't in its permanent location and nothing in the room has been decorated for the baby. Yet. Stay tuned!

The Best Part

This is the good part of pregnancy... the best part. This is the part when the miserable part is becoming a distant memory, but it it not yet the part when I wish to wake up in the middle of the night in active labor because I really, truly cannot imagine being pregnant for one more day. This is the part when I feel the baby from the inside and outside almost constantly, causing me to smile on the inside and outside almost constantly. This is the part when I know the sex of the baby, so I can more completely bond with him. This is the part when doctor's appointments are so short, because of lack of questions or complaints on my part, that I am parked in the garage for less than 30 minutes, allowing me free parking. This is the part when I LOVE being pregnant; the part that when I am not pregnant I think about wistfully. This is the part that makes me sad to consider this being my last pregnancy; that makes me think I could do this over and over... or at least once more. This part is too short. I've only just recently arrived at this part, and I know it will pass in a few weeks. For now, I am trying to enjoy every last second of this part. Because it is truly the best part of pregnancy.