34 Weeks


Time until due date: Five weeks and change!

Weight: Still gaining like an ox. Midwife still does not seem concerned. Right now I weigh approximately 20 pounds more than my husband. How many women can say that? Don’t be jealous, ladies.

Contractions: I’m having lots and lots of ’em.

Sleep: Still elusive. Especially when certain dogs decide it’s a good idea to bite my toe at 3 a.m. Yeah, I’m looking at you, Beaker.

Nursery: It’s coming along! Crib, built. Changing table built. Tim is planning on putting together the glider and bookcase today. The Fish already has so many books—I love it. I’ll be sure to post some nursery photos once it comes together a little more.

New developments: The midwife said yesterday that she thought the baby “might” be breech. Grrr. At 32 weeks the little bugger was head down, but I guess she decided to pull the ole switcheroo. I’ll find out in two weeks one way or the other. If she’s still breech, that likely means either a scheduled C-section or that scary baby-turning procedure. I think I’ll take the C-section, thanks. Anyway, send us some good vibes that she turns her little fish face down. Honestly, I don’t even really believe the midwife anyway since she wasn’t certain, so I’m trying not to worry about it. Yet.

Worries: Preterm labor. My mom had me six weeks early and her only symptom of labor was back pain. Because back pain was a regular pregnancy symptom for her, she ignored it for a day. When she finally went to the hospital the next day, my feet were already in the birth canal. Eeks! Also, my mom and sister had all of their babies 3-6 weeks early, so I could likely go early as well. I’m cool with that, but six weeks is a little too early for comfort. 37 weeks? Totally fine. Although, writing here that I might go early probably ensures that I’m going to go late and have to be induced. Which is another a worry of mine.  Induction scares the crap out of me. But really, I don’t care when she comes, as long as there’s a healthy baby and mama at the end of it!

What I’m looking forward to: Stating the obvious here, but meeting my little girl! I can’t believe it’s coming up so soon.

How I look: Here I am again with my pregnant twin, Susie. She’s at 38 weeks, so she could go at any time now! We were getting some pretty hilarious looks as we waddled to dinner together the other night.

Original Nursery Art

One of the things I love about my job is that I get to work with some sickly talented people, like the illustrator Danielle Kroll. I’m sad to say that she is leaving the company soon to set off on her own, but luckily I have something to remember her by. A couple of months ago, I commissioned her to paint something for the Fish’s room and today she brought in the finished product. So without further ado, here it is. Thank you, Danielle!

I can’t wait to frame and hang this bad boy.

33 Weeks

Wait, hold up. Did someone say 33 weeks? How did that happen? The last three weeks have zoomed by. Here’s to hoping the rest of the pregnancy follows suit because I am so ready to meet the little lady.

How I feel:

Can we talk about leg cramps for a second?

Mother effing leg cramps.

Those things are brutal. And they’re Sneaky McSneaksters because they like to come at night and wake you up out of a peaceful sleep.

About a week and a half ago I got a killer calf cramp. I woke up screaming like a crazy person, successfully freaking out Tim and the dogs. I tried to flex my foot, but couldn’t move it for about 30 seconds. It was scary. And painful.

And then it hurt for four days afterwards. It hurt so long afterwards that I called the midwife to make sure it was normal for me to still be limping around. She said that, no, it wasn’t normal and that I needed to go to the hospital to make sure I didn’t have a blood clot. I didn’t have one, thank God, but damn. Those cramps mean business.

I’ve been eating two bananas daily since then for potassium. And taking a calcium-magnesium supplement. And doing yoga positions to improve circulation. And stretching like crazy. And requesting a foot and calf massage from Tim every night. So hopefully one of those things will do the trick (please, please, please).

I did find out at the hospital that my placenta is in front of the baby, which is why I don’t feel her move that much. I generally have to be lying down and concentrating to feel her. So that information made me feel so much better.

In other news, my sleeping has improved. Want to know why? Drugs. Yep, I’ve been taking a half a dose of Unisom every night. After I got that first leg cramp, I started having trouble falling asleep because I was so worried about getting another one. Previously, I only had trouble staying asleep. But since I couldn’t fall asleep anymore either that meant I was getting, well, no sleep at all. So drugs it is. The midwife said it’s safe for the baby, but then I read online that antihistamines in the third trimester can cause seizures in newborns. Ummmm, so I’m going to have to look into that one a little more and possibly stop said drugs. Yikes.

Basically, I’m not a fan of the ole third trimester, but I’m trying to suck it up because I still have six plus weeks to go!

How I look:

Large And In Charge.

Shower fun:

I had my second and final shower a couple of weekends ago. Here’s a few pics from the event.

Kabob action.
Onesie painting.
Finished onesies. See the Little Fish one? So cute!
Getting ready to open the stash!
Me with the incredible ladies who planned the whole gig. Love them.

Letter to My Little Lady: I’m Totally Comparing You to A Blind Date

As June ambles into July, I think about counting your fingers and toes. I wonder what it will feel like to look into your eyes for the first time. Sometimes I find myself doodling your name on a piece of scrap paper, like you are my grade-school crush. Your name looks so pretty written out, with all of its loops and curves.

It occurred to me the other day that you are like the perfect blind date. I don’t know what you’ll look like or how you’ll act or if your nose will look funny, but I know I’ll love you. It’s like a blind date where I’m guaranteed to meet my soul mate. There’s that same feeling of anticipation that comes before a date. That same feeling of—holy crap—this could be the person that changes my life forever.

And you will change my life, of course. I just don’t know how yet. So until then I will continue to get ready for our “big date.” I’ll fix your room up just so. I’ll attend prenatal yoga so that I might have an easier time delivering you. I’ll take a birthing class and read books so that I know just what to do when I meet you. I’ll set up all of your baby gear so that you’ll be as comfortable as possible when you come home from the hospital.

Knowing all the while that when I do finally see your face, none of those things are going to matter. Because just like any first meeting with one’s soul mate, it’s going to be completely different and more wonderful than I could ever imagine.

Going Home

My mom’s not feeling so hot these days. She’s getting radiation and IV chemo at the same time. This would be rough for any average Joe, but on top of that my mom’s on a liquid diet, so her body is pretty much beat down. In an attempt to lift her spirits, Tim and I decided to take a last-minute trip to San Diego to see her last weekend.

I can’t describe to you how glad I am that we made the visit. My sister, who I haven’t seen in six years, was also visiting that weekend. My San Diego-native aunt and cousin were also around quite a bit. It was great for my mom to be surrounded by so many people who care about her.

But it was also difficult to see someone I love beyond words struggle so much. There is one particular moment that I just can’t get out of my head. I was watching my mom as she was dozing on the couch. Initially, she had a smile on her face. You could tell she was listening to all of her family talking and it made her happy. But as she fell into a real, deep sleep she started frowning intensely. And the look on her face then was anything but happy. Maybe that’s just how she normally looks sleeping, who knows, but to me it seemed like all the pain and nausea and other crappy stuff she was holding back while awake was rearing its ugly head in her sleep. That frown pretty much broke my heart.

In spite of all that was going on, I felt the same way I feel every time I visit my parents: safe and loved. I’ve never lived in my parents’ San Diego home. As a matter of fact, this is the first time I’ve visited them there. But still, I felt like it was my home, too. I felt comfortable there. I felt like I belonged. And it dawned on me that, even at 34 years old with a house and family of my own, home is still wherever my parents are.

I also thought a lot last weekend about the fact that my parents are the only people in the world who love me unconditionally. I know Tim loves me like crazy, but there are things I could do to drive him away. Like, I don’t know, have seventeen affairs. Obv, I would never do that, but the fact remains that I could do something to damage our relationship beyond repair.

But my parents? They’re in it for the long haul. Even if I did something unspeakably awful, I know they would still love me.

I’m only sorry it took me so long to realize what a gift that is.

My mom’s probably going to kill me for posting a picture of her when she feels like crapola, but I’m doing it anyway because a) she’s still beautiful and b) more importantly, she’s still smiling.