hydrogeek's blog

40 Weeks

Today. And no signs of imminent labor.

That's about all I have to say about that.

On Beer and Boobs and Other Things

Lemme just get something right out front here: I don't like beer. I don't like the way it tastes, I don't like the way it smells, I just don't like it. If it's really cold out of a tap and the only thing to drink, I can tolerate it, but I don't like it. That being said, I have wanted beer this whole pregnancy. It sounds REALLY good. And at the risk of public censure, I'll admit to having had a teeny little drink of it a time or two during this pregnancy, and damn, it tasted GOOD. I keep telling my husband that as soon as I have this baby, he's going to have to bring me some Bud Lite with Lime. Besides wanting it for 9 months, it's good for nursing!

Which leads me to my second story: After Dora was born, my milk came in. In a BIG way, if you get what I'm saying. "Torpedo boobs" is the best descriptor I've heard used. It was painful. And it wasn't coming out.  After three different people suggested that I drink a beer to help me "let down", I finally did it. I didn't like it, but I did it. I figured it would be like an enema, not comfortable, but worth the end relief. I was right. Within half an hour I was drowning Dora, and that's how it stayed. I keep looking forward to this scenario the second time around, because I am going to be looking forward to drinking a beer! I'm excited! I'm also about 99% sure that as soon as this baby is born I'm going to lose my taste for beer.

33.5 Weeks: The Belly

33halfweekssidecropped

A friend of mine took this picture a week ago, showing the side view of my ginormous belly at 33.5 weeks. Today, at 34.5 weeks, I think I'm probably even bigger. My pubic bone is aching, so I know my hips are spreading. Good for them, better to do it now than try to get it all done during labor!

Or Not

I thought we were going to get the house to ourselves for a while, but no. One of my brother-in-law's is coming in tomorrow for the big celebration in our little town. I had a babysitter for Saturday night and everything...

I can only conclude that the universe doesn't want me to have sex. Oh well. At least I'll get to go dancing.

27 Weeks

According to some people, that means I'm in the 3rd trimester. Have I mentioned that I have 2 footie sleepers I found on clearance at Sam's for this little baby boy? And that's all? I mean, I have all the big stuff from when Dora was a baby, but I have no idea where I'm going to put all the piles of baby shit that you need when you have a baby, because we are out of room in our house. It would be nice if I could convince my MIL and/or FIL to come clean the 30 years of accumulated shit they have stored in all our storage spaces out, but I really don't see that happening. So, yeah. 3 months left, and apparently we're doing this baby minimalist style!

We went camping last weekend, and the altitude kicked my ass more than I ever thought possible. Keep that in mind if you decide you want to go to the mountains when you are six months pregnant. It kept me pretty handily contained to the campsite, which, well, that's where all the s'more's fixin's were, so I really can't complain. Dora fell off the steps of my MIL's camper and scraped the crap out of her nose, but she was outside all day for several days in a row, so she was in HEAVEN. Her reaction was basically "There's MORE DIRT over here that I can smear all over me?!?! And then some more over HERE?!?! AWESOME!"

In other things you might want to reconsider heavily if you are thinking of doing while pregnant, let's talk about salmonella during your 21st week of pregnancy. Actually, let's don't talk about that at all, except to say this: DON'T DO IT.

Little baby boy has finally turned head down, I'm pretty sure. I mean, judging by all the wiggling and karate kicks going on in the general vicinity of my stomach/diaphragm/liver I'm pretty sure of it. Glucose tolerance test next Wednesday, so wish me non-puking thoughts that day, if you have a spare moment.

In closing, can I get a great big HALLELUJAH for us having the house to ourselves for more than a few days running for the first time in about 6 weeks? That starts today. My second/third trimester libido thanks you.

It's A ...

BOY!!!

More importantly, everything looked just perfect. By dates, due October 27, by size, due November 3. Not surprising, since I usually ovulate late. Not to mention the fact that Dora was a week late, so I should just expect that, then I won't be disappointed when I have to keep waiting. HA. Remind me I said that when I go overdue.

Actually, don't. It could get ugly.

Now to come up with a name. It's rather unfortunate that my husband likes only the most dorky names ever. I mean...Milo? Come on. If you are a farmer, you don't name your kid a crop. It's just not right.

Stay tuned for pictures, I will eventually get the sonogram pictures scanned, and the pictures I took of Dora looking at her little brother on the screen downloaded. I am kinda sad I missed the one of her kissing the screen, it was pretty darn sweet.

Hot damn. A little boy. I'm feeling so lucky right about now I'm feeling like I'm tempting fate just by my mere existance.

Distraction

So, only 11 more days until my sonogram. I mean, that's basically just 258.5 hours, not that I'm counting.

Good thing I have this to distract me, huh?

Porch smile

17 Weeks

Tomorrow I have a checkup at the coochie doctor. I'll be 17 weeks and a few days along, so I'm really excited because we should finally be scheduling our FIRST and ONLY SONOGRAM OF THIS WHOLE FREAKING PREGNANCY! With Dora, I had 2 sonograms recorded on VHS by 11 weeks. I am supremely glad I got to start feeling this baby move at 14 weeks and have been feeling it daily since 16 weeks because reassurance is something that has been sorely lacking this time around. Most of the time I love that my doc is a minimal interventions type guy, but the sono's are sure something I miss not having. Of course, that means that I didn't have to go to the RE, so YAY!

And because I don't want this baby to feel like it's a left out second baby, a letter:

Dear Baby,

I love you. Your daddy and I are SO excited to meet you, but stay put a while because you need to cook some more, okay? OH, and keep kicking, it makes me smile every time.

Love,
Mama

(OK, so still kinda second babyish...)

This Would NEVER Have Happened 5 Years Ago

You have been married too long when the following exchange occurs:

My husband calls me at 10am Monday morning and says "Did we forget something this weekend?"
Me: "Yeah, we totally forgot Halee's birthday on Saturday! I was just about to call you!"
MH: "Um, what about Sunday?"
Me: "No, it's on the 17th, Saturday."
MH: "And what's on the 18th?"
Me: "Oh. Yeah."
MH: "So. Happy Anniversary?"
Me: "You too. We'll celebrate that...later."

6 years.

Surprise!

" The moments of happiness we enjoy take us by surprise. It is not that we seize them, but that they seize us."
Ashley Montague

I've been putting off writing this post, and since this post is basically all that is in my brain right now, I haven't written anything. My brain has had a hard time processing some things, and I still don't think I'm there yet, but I'm ready to write anyway. As ready as I'll ever be.

As soon as I had my first cycle after birthing Dora (Jan 21, blogged about here.) my husband started wanting to have another baby. Wanted to start "trying". I...did not. There were several reasons. One is between my husband and I, dealing with a few changes I needed to see happen so that I felt confident in being able to handle two children. Another is that two kids sounds WAY harder than one. I mean, bedtime routine for a kid AND an infant? Sounds like murder. Another, and possibly looming the largest in my mind, was "trying". I mean, I'd had a two year break between being pregnant and not having cycles while nursing and the absolute relief at not having to worry about it all day every day was still palpable. I was not ready to do that again. At all.

If you read the post I linked above, you know that after my big heavy cycle of Jan 21, I had a few days of spotting on Feb 20, and then I had some more spotting that started March 18 and never really developed into a period, but just cycled between spotting or not for several weeks. That is what I used to fight with all the time. Heavy periods with spotting in between, and very little time of the old utero-cooteral region actually playing nice. I was not happy about the quick return to the bullshit. I was constantly bloated feeling and tired and just not happy about the whole thing. Why can't my body ever just be normal? And all this time Sean is still bringing up wanting another baby pretty regularly. "Well, why don't you just start taking your temperature? We don't have to go to the doctor." You know, subtle pressure. And bleeding like that all the time always makes me anemic. It had only been going on off and on very lightly for a few weeks and I was already feeling exhausted. I had forgotten how draining it was.

One day at work (April 2, to be exact) I was complaining about all of this to a close friend of mine who had also been going to our OB/GYN to try to get her birth control side effects straightened out. After showing her all the bloat I had, she asked if I'd taken a pregnancy test. It was that bad. I scoffed at her, and was like "Thanks for the vote of confidence." The fact that it looked that bad convinced me that I should probably call the doctor, even though I was pretty against going back on the pill and I was afraid that was all he could offer me. He comment niggled at me all day, and I finally decided I'd pee on a stick when I got home just to rule it out and to be able to have more info for the doctor. Also, the more I thought about it, the more things felt vaguely familiar.

It was positive.

I was still spotting.

I called the doctor, and said that I assumed my last cycle was Feb 20. They said there was no reason for me to see the doctor until I was 10 weeks along, and I asked them to have the nurse call me because I was spotting. The nurse called and told me not to worry about it unless it was bright red. I kept spotting off and on, and I kept calling the nurse and she kept telling me not to worry unless it was bright red. During the week after I first called the doctor, I got a blood draw for the pregnancy hormone, which she said was "good" and two progesterone checks which were also good. I got the numbers on them, because I had to be supplemented with Dora and wanted to be sure that wasn't what was causing the spotting, but I just accepted her "good" on the hcg number. Very unlike me, but my brain still wasn't working very well.

The spotting tapered off, my husband got cut off, and I waded through the days until my appointment. I was getting so big that at around what I thought was 8 weeks I had to dig out my maternity pants and tell my boss what was going on. My husband was teasing me about twins, and finally my mom says "You know, I asked you if you were pregnant in February and you laughed at me." My husband also decided it was a great idea to tell the whole town. I was not ready for that. By the time my appointment rolled around on April 24th, I was praying that I was 13+ weeks along rather than 9+, because if this was twins I was going to have a heart attack and the belly was BIG. It had to be one or the other, surely.

The doctor said my uterus was consistent with a 13 week pregnancy, and that 4 days of spotting in February does not a period make. We heard the heartbeat. The heartbeat. The beautiful, beautiful heartbeat.

I am pregnant.

16 weeks. I only had one true period after my cycles returned.

You are caught up.

I am astounded, I am grateful, I am scared, I am flabbergasted, I am confused, but most of all I am pregnant.