When Tucker was a wee one and I was a bumbling breastfeeding mom, I pretty much stayed holed up in our house. I didn't want to risk being in public with a starving infant.
This time around, I want to get out with our boys and experience life outside our four walls. However, I'm finding those around us are not so accommodating towards breastfeeding mamas.
For instance, today we went to a friend's birthday party and one of those bouncy places. Thatcher slept for a good while and I thought he'd last until we made it back home. But alas, about half way through the party, Thatcher woke up, famished as usual.
We asked an employee if they have a family room or someplace we could tuck away to do our business. The naive teenager said "the bathroom". Really? The bathroom?
So I attempted to give Thatcher an "emergency"premade formula bottle but he refused. Ok. Soooo...we're gonna do this. I grabbed the baby and my diaper bag and went in search of the restroom.
I sat up shop in the handicap stall because I needed all the room I could get. I wasn't about to plop down on the floor so I sat on the toilet seat (no lid), which was nice and loose, and proceeded to feed my starving child. After he finished one side, I stood up and burped him which resulted in a river of spit up all down my back and on the floor. *sigh*
I sat back down on the toilet and rotated Thatcher to the other side all the while rocking back and forth on the loose seat. While he nursed, I attempted to throw toilet paper on the spit up pool and wipe it around with my foot.
When he finished, I again burped him but used a burp rag over my spit up soaked shoulder this time! Smart! Oh but wait! This burp resulted in a nice blowout on the other end. And who didn't pack a change of clothes? Not smart.
So now I'm balancing my poo covered baby on my spit up soaked shoulder while I attempt to pick up the toilet paper mess on the floor.
Really? No family room at all? SERIOUSLY!
I successfully changed the very messy diaper, threw on some lipstick, plastered a smile on my face and went back to the party smelling of spit up and poopy baby. pretty.
I think if I wasn't so modest, I wouldn't be so mortified by the thought of breastfeeding in public. I have a couple of cute cover-ups and have mastered a comfortable Boppy-free position. But the thought of having my boob out and everyone around me conscious of said boob...absolutely mortifying!
This is my plea - just have a nice little family room. Heck, at this point, I'd settle for a folding chair in a bathroom stall. I just think breastfeeding mamas should have the right to a little privacy. Really, is that too much to ask?
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
And We're Back!
I finally got a new computer (YAY!) so hopefully I'll be able to blog a bit more.
Where to begin after being MIA for over a month?!?!
Well I'm back at work - went back on January 3. I stayed pretty caught up during my maternity leave so it wasn't quite so bad going back. I only cried a little bit when I left Thatcher at his grandparents - totally not like when I had to leave Tucker for the first time.
In fact, there are so many things that are totally different this time around.
With Tucker, I was a complete control freak. I know - me? a control freak? It's true. I was so particular about every little thing - when he ate, how much he ate, how much he peed, how much he pooped, how much milk I pumped...the tiniest of details, I fretted over. I remember crying almost daily if I thought I didn't pump enough milk.
But with Thatcher, I've totally thrown all rules and expectations out the window...ok maybe not all, but quite a few! My only concern is that he's a happy and healthy baby - whatever it takes (or doesn't take) to get him there is all I'm worried about.
And on that note, I must go cuddle with my sweet baby boy who is up way past his bedtime.
I have so much to say and so many pictures to post, I'm sooooo very excited to be up and running again....more to come...
Where to begin after being MIA for over a month?!?!
Well I'm back at work - went back on January 3. I stayed pretty caught up during my maternity leave so it wasn't quite so bad going back. I only cried a little bit when I left Thatcher at his grandparents - totally not like when I had to leave Tucker for the first time.
In fact, there are so many things that are totally different this time around.
With Tucker, I was a complete control freak. I know - me? a control freak? It's true. I was so particular about every little thing - when he ate, how much he ate, how much he peed, how much he pooped, how much milk I pumped...the tiniest of details, I fretted over. I remember crying almost daily if I thought I didn't pump enough milk.
But with Thatcher, I've totally thrown all rules and expectations out the window...ok maybe not all, but quite a few! My only concern is that he's a happy and healthy baby - whatever it takes (or doesn't take) to get him there is all I'm worried about.
And on that note, I must go cuddle with my sweet baby boy who is up way past his bedtime.
I have so much to say and so many pictures to post, I'm sooooo very excited to be up and running again....more to come...
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Postpartum Not So Pretty
It's inevitable, the glowing of pregnancy has morphed into the grossness of postpartum.
The glowing has turned into dry skin speckled with blemishes.
The cute little round belly is now a big half deflated spare tire around my midsection.
The "ohmygosh it's gonna pop" belly button is now a smooshy gaping hole.
And that line down my belly - it seems to grow darker every day.
The thick lustrous hair...well, I still have that. But soon it'll start falling out like a sheepdog shedding in July - or better yet, like our furkid Mango (seriously, how does this dog lose that much hair?!?).
Every night I wake up (several time thanks to my ever starving child) in a pool of sweat - completely soaked from head to toe.
Gotta love raging out of whack hormones! I'm ready to be normal again!
The glowing has turned into dry skin speckled with blemishes.
The cute little round belly is now a big half deflated spare tire around my midsection.
The "ohmygosh it's gonna pop" belly button is now a smooshy gaping hole.
And that line down my belly - it seems to grow darker every day.
The thick lustrous hair...well, I still have that. But soon it'll start falling out like a sheepdog shedding in July - or better yet, like our furkid Mango (seriously, how does this dog lose that much hair?!?).
Every night I wake up (several time thanks to my ever starving child) in a pool of sweat - completely soaked from head to toe.
Gotta love raging out of whack hormones! I'm ready to be normal again!
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Don't Blink
This is one of those blogs that I've been meaning to write for a few weeks now but have put it off again and again. I'm hoping that with this post, I'll find peace and maybe a bit of acceptance and closure.
There's a song by Kenny Chesney called "Don't Blink" that tells us to cherish every moment because life passes us by so quickly - if you blink, you may just miss it! This song always reminded me of my sweet baby Tucker and how fast he's growing. I can't believe he's already 20 months old and has experienced so many of life's "firsts".
A few weeks ago, my grandma suddenly became very ill and this song took on a whole different perspective for me.
Towards the end of my pregnancy with Thatcher, I decided it was time to go back home to Wynona and visit my mom and grandparents. I hadn't seen them for a few months and I knew my time to travel was diminishing with each passing week of my pregnancy. On the Saturday before Halloween, I told Alec that I needed to go visit so we loaded up Tucker and headed to Wynona.
We visited my mom then stopped by my grandparents house. Grandma had made a fresh batch of brownies which I inhaled (one last pregnant hoorah!) Wynona was trick or treating that night so we sat on the front porch while Grandma and Grandpa passed out candy. Grandma had made up treat bags to pass out - she always went a little above and beyond with her generosity! But then again, she was picking out the good Tootsie Rolls to keep and enjoy later!
We left that evening with the idea that the next time we'd see my grandparents, I'd have a new little great-grandson for them to meet! Little did we know, how fast things would change with the next "blink."
The following Friday, my mom called to let me know my Grandma had gotten sick and was in the hospital. The diagnosis was something wrong with her liver - maybe jaundice. Alec and I went to visit Grandma on Saturday (just 1 week since we'd last seen her) and she was in good spirits. We talked about my pregnancy and she assured everyone she felt fine. Did she really feel fine? She wasn't one to complain or worry anyone so we'll never know.
On Sunday after more tests, the doctors found a spot on Grandma's intestines. She was set for surgery on Tuesday. Our family filled the waiting room on the day of surgery and we were prepared to stay as long as we needed to. The surgery didn't take as long as we thought. The doctor found cancer in my grandma's pancreas, liver and intestines. There wasn't much they could do. Grandma was given 6 weeks - 6 months to live. I never wanted to blink again.
During this entire time - from the time I found out Grandma was sick until the day of the surgery - I kept playing "Don't Blink" over and over in my head. I clung to my family and leaned on them for support. We were told that my sweet Grandma - who was so strong and vivacious just a few days earlier - was now very very sick. Everyone kept reminding me that she was 85 and she may not be able to bounce back. But my Grandma was no regular old grandma! She was full of life and had never been sick or had anything wrong with her! I didn't care that she was 85! My Grandma was supposed to be around for at least 10 more years - at least long enough to see my boys grow up - at least long enough meet her new great-grandson!
When Grandpa and I went to see Grandma in the ICU after surgery, he said he didn't think she'd pull out of this - that this could really be the end. I told him we just have to have faith and everything is out of our hands now. The constant playing of "Don't Blink" changed to "Have a Little Faith." I don't even know the words to that song, but I just kept playing over and over in my head "Have a little faith in me..." For some reason, I thought if I stayed optimistic and put all my faith in the right hands, my grandma would pull through.
After Grandma's surgery, I visited her in the hospital as often as I could. I went to see her during my lunch breaks and in the evenings. The Sunday after her surgery - just 2 weeks after we had last seen her so full of life in Wynona - we took Tucker to see Grandma. We were sure he'd lift her spirits and I made a special card for her from Tucker. Grandma had taken a turn for the worse the night before and wasn't awake when we visited. She had emergency surgery that night.
The next day, on Monday - just 16 days after our Wynona visit - we lost our sweet grandma. "Don't Blink" returned.
I'm not sad by time not spent with my Grandma. I have a thousand memories from the time I did spend with her. I'm sad my boys will never know this amazing person. They'll never understand why their mama thinks it's important to make homemade jam and to sit down at the dinner table each night. They'll think it's silly that their mama has to kiss daddy every morning, every night and every other chance she gets. They'll get tired of how many times she says "I love you" to them. But these are just a few of the thousands of things I got from my grandma that I hope my boys will remember about me.
Now I'm trying to cherish each moment life offers and each crazy thing it throws our way. I want to make sure that with each blink, I have a thousand memories to last me until my next blink.
There's a song by Kenny Chesney called "Don't Blink" that tells us to cherish every moment because life passes us by so quickly - if you blink, you may just miss it! This song always reminded me of my sweet baby Tucker and how fast he's growing. I can't believe he's already 20 months old and has experienced so many of life's "firsts".
A few weeks ago, my grandma suddenly became very ill and this song took on a whole different perspective for me.
Towards the end of my pregnancy with Thatcher, I decided it was time to go back home to Wynona and visit my mom and grandparents. I hadn't seen them for a few months and I knew my time to travel was diminishing with each passing week of my pregnancy. On the Saturday before Halloween, I told Alec that I needed to go visit so we loaded up Tucker and headed to Wynona.
We visited my mom then stopped by my grandparents house. Grandma had made a fresh batch of brownies which I inhaled (one last pregnant hoorah!) Wynona was trick or treating that night so we sat on the front porch while Grandma and Grandpa passed out candy. Grandma had made up treat bags to pass out - she always went a little above and beyond with her generosity! But then again, she was picking out the good Tootsie Rolls to keep and enjoy later!
We left that evening with the idea that the next time we'd see my grandparents, I'd have a new little great-grandson for them to meet! Little did we know, how fast things would change with the next "blink."
The following Friday, my mom called to let me know my Grandma had gotten sick and was in the hospital. The diagnosis was something wrong with her liver - maybe jaundice. Alec and I went to visit Grandma on Saturday (just 1 week since we'd last seen her) and she was in good spirits. We talked about my pregnancy and she assured everyone she felt fine. Did she really feel fine? She wasn't one to complain or worry anyone so we'll never know.
On Sunday after more tests, the doctors found a spot on Grandma's intestines. She was set for surgery on Tuesday. Our family filled the waiting room on the day of surgery and we were prepared to stay as long as we needed to. The surgery didn't take as long as we thought. The doctor found cancer in my grandma's pancreas, liver and intestines. There wasn't much they could do. Grandma was given 6 weeks - 6 months to live. I never wanted to blink again.
During this entire time - from the time I found out Grandma was sick until the day of the surgery - I kept playing "Don't Blink" over and over in my head. I clung to my family and leaned on them for support. We were told that my sweet Grandma - who was so strong and vivacious just a few days earlier - was now very very sick. Everyone kept reminding me that she was 85 and she may not be able to bounce back. But my Grandma was no regular old grandma! She was full of life and had never been sick or had anything wrong with her! I didn't care that she was 85! My Grandma was supposed to be around for at least 10 more years - at least long enough to see my boys grow up - at least long enough meet her new great-grandson!
When Grandpa and I went to see Grandma in the ICU after surgery, he said he didn't think she'd pull out of this - that this could really be the end. I told him we just have to have faith and everything is out of our hands now. The constant playing of "Don't Blink" changed to "Have a Little Faith." I don't even know the words to that song, but I just kept playing over and over in my head "Have a little faith in me..." For some reason, I thought if I stayed optimistic and put all my faith in the right hands, my grandma would pull through.
After Grandma's surgery, I visited her in the hospital as often as I could. I went to see her during my lunch breaks and in the evenings. The Sunday after her surgery - just 2 weeks after we had last seen her so full of life in Wynona - we took Tucker to see Grandma. We were sure he'd lift her spirits and I made a special card for her from Tucker. Grandma had taken a turn for the worse the night before and wasn't awake when we visited. She had emergency surgery that night.
The next day, on Monday - just 16 days after our Wynona visit - we lost our sweet grandma. "Don't Blink" returned.
I'm not sad by time not spent with my Grandma. I have a thousand memories from the time I did spend with her. I'm sad my boys will never know this amazing person. They'll never understand why their mama thinks it's important to make homemade jam and to sit down at the dinner table each night. They'll think it's silly that their mama has to kiss daddy every morning, every night and every other chance she gets. They'll get tired of how many times she says "I love you" to them. But these are just a few of the thousands of things I got from my grandma that I hope my boys will remember about me.
Now I'm trying to cherish each moment life offers and each crazy thing it throws our way. I want to make sure that with each blink, I have a thousand memories to last me until my next blink.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
World, Meet Thatcher!
Our sweet baby boy Thatcher surprised us and made his appearance a couple of days sooner than expected! Here's his story...
Because I had a c-section with our 19-month old Tucker, I was scheduled for another c-section for our second baby. I had received a form letter in the mail - your "surgery" is scheduled for Monday, November 22. The idea of having another c-section had already upset me and this letter didn't help things. There was no drama or element of surprise with a scheduled c-section. Never would I experience the craziness of rushing around to get to the hospital or trying to calm down a freaked out husband. Or so I thought...
Thatcher's birth story begins a few days before his birth. My dear sweet grandma had unexpectedly gotten very ill (blog about this to follow) and at our final OBGYN appointment on Monday, November 15, I spoke to my doctor about possibly rescheduling my c-section. I knew my grandma wouldn't be with us much longer and there was no way I would miss her service in case we lost her before our scheduled c-section. The doctor was very empathetic as she had lost her own grandma recently and she said we could reschedule as necessary. When we left the doctor's office, my step dad called to let me know they were taking grandma off of life support. We were just leaving the parking garage at the same hospital so we drove around the block then back to the hospital. I got to say my final good-bye to my sweet grandma while Thatcher kicked away in my belly. It was such a surreal moment.
Grandma's service was held on the following Thursday and I just kept telling baby that we just had to wait till Thursday. If he could give me that, I would be forever grateful! At my grandma's service, my niece Laney kept saying she wanted me to have the baby on Saturday so I could make it to Thanksgiving dinner the next week. All I cared about was paying my final respects to my grandma. If I could make it past that, then I was ready to have the baby at anytime.
On Friday, November 21, I rushed around at work to catch up from missing work when my grandma was sick and when I took off for her service and to get somewhat prepared to take some sort of maternity leave. When we got home from work that evening, Alec's parents took us out to eat but Tucker didn't feel well so we had to call it an early night.
Saturday I woke up feeling like a not-so-great mom. Whenever anyone in my family feels sick, I immediately want to clean and sanitize my house. So I started on the kitchen and I scrubbed it from top to bottom! I pretty much wore myself out and rested the rest of the afternoon. Later that afternoon, I went upstairs to finish up some work on the computer. Alec and Tucker came up and played while I worked.
Alec and I had tickets to see Brad Paisley at the BOK Center Saturday night and we went back and forth about going. I had told him several months before - if Brad Paisley ever comes to town, I want to go see him! I'm pretty sure Alec writes the songs Brad Paisley sings...I mean - all of those songs are about me - right?
Anyway, I was tired from my crazed nesting earlier that day and I was super swollen and huge. I was still on the computer trying to figure out parking around the BOK Center. I had total pregnant brain so Alec wanted on the computer to check things out. Before I stood up, I felt something weird. Later, a nurse asked if I heard a "pop" but I think maybe I felt it instead. When I stood up, holy cow, my water had broken! Alec sat down and I just stood there - frozen.
Me: Uhm...my water just broke
Alec: No it didn't. (I had been the "girl who cried water broke" for a few weeks now and he was on to me!)
Me: (pointing to the puddle on the floor) Yes it did.
Alec: Ok...Ok...Ok...HAHAHAHA!!! Ok...Are you ok? OK!
Me: What do I do?!?! What do I do?!?!
So I waddled off to the bathroom, sat on the toilet and started making phone calls. Alec called our doctor who told him I didn't have time for a shower - she didn't want me contracting and miss out on my c-section. We needed to get to the hospital ASAP.
I thought it was a little silly I couldn't shower so...I took a shower. I'm not sure what Alec was doing while I was showering and getting my stuff together. I think he fed the dogs and loaded up all sorts of stuff in the car. Then we were off to the hospital!
Alec drove fast, but very well :-), to the hospital. We may have been on 2 wheels during the entire 6-story climb to the maternity floor at the hospital, but we got there fast and in 1 piece.
Let me tell you something about when your water breaks - which only happens with 1 in 10 pregnancies. When it breaks, there's no stopping it. So while Alec was getting Tucker out of the car and in his stroller and grabbing all sorts of bags, I did the "I gotta pee" dance in the parking garage. Of course I didn't have to pee - I just had amniotic fluid pouring out all over the place.
The distance between the parking garage and the labor and delivery area is incredibly long and I kinda power walked/ jogged the whole way while trying to hold my knees together and carry my purse and overnight bag. Pretty.
My water broke around 4:00, we checked in around 4:30 and were in surgery by 5:45 - super fast...and dramatic!
We had told everyone about missing Brad Paisley so during surgery, someone turned on the radio and just as Thatcher made his appearance at 6:17 pm, Brad's song "Little Moments" came on the radio. How very fitting. Later, after Alec took Thatcher out to meet the world and I was getting put back together, "Hillbilly Bone" came on. Not sure how that works into the story but I thought it was pretty funny.
Thatcher Rippy Davis officially joined the family at 6:17pm on Saturday, November 20, 2010 (our 2 1/2 year anniversary). He weighed 7lbs, 7 oz and was 21 3/4 inches long. I was surprised at his weight because when they delivered him, the doctors and nurses were amazed at how big he was and said he'd be a football player and that I better be glad I had him by c-section.
I finally made it to recovery and after the nurse scooted everyone but Alec and my boys out of the room, we sang Happy Birthday to Thatcher and he nursed for the first time. Such a sweet moment.
And so now here we are. Alec is back at work. Tucker is back in school. And Thatcher and I are trying to figure things out. He's such a sweet baby! He squeaks and grunts a lot and I pretty much have to strip him down to wake him up to eat, but we'll get it all worked out.
After the roller coaster of emotions I've had over the past few weeks, I'm just trying to cherish every little moment.
Because I had a c-section with our 19-month old Tucker, I was scheduled for another c-section for our second baby. I had received a form letter in the mail - your "surgery" is scheduled for Monday, November 22. The idea of having another c-section had already upset me and this letter didn't help things. There was no drama or element of surprise with a scheduled c-section. Never would I experience the craziness of rushing around to get to the hospital or trying to calm down a freaked out husband. Or so I thought...
Thatcher's birth story begins a few days before his birth. My dear sweet grandma had unexpectedly gotten very ill (blog about this to follow) and at our final OBGYN appointment on Monday, November 15, I spoke to my doctor about possibly rescheduling my c-section. I knew my grandma wouldn't be with us much longer and there was no way I would miss her service in case we lost her before our scheduled c-section. The doctor was very empathetic as she had lost her own grandma recently and she said we could reschedule as necessary. When we left the doctor's office, my step dad called to let me know they were taking grandma off of life support. We were just leaving the parking garage at the same hospital so we drove around the block then back to the hospital. I got to say my final good-bye to my sweet grandma while Thatcher kicked away in my belly. It was such a surreal moment.
Grandma's service was held on the following Thursday and I just kept telling baby that we just had to wait till Thursday. If he could give me that, I would be forever grateful! At my grandma's service, my niece Laney kept saying she wanted me to have the baby on Saturday so I could make it to Thanksgiving dinner the next week. All I cared about was paying my final respects to my grandma. If I could make it past that, then I was ready to have the baby at anytime.
On Friday, November 21, I rushed around at work to catch up from missing work when my grandma was sick and when I took off for her service and to get somewhat prepared to take some sort of maternity leave. When we got home from work that evening, Alec's parents took us out to eat but Tucker didn't feel well so we had to call it an early night.
Saturday I woke up feeling like a not-so-great mom. Whenever anyone in my family feels sick, I immediately want to clean and sanitize my house. So I started on the kitchen and I scrubbed it from top to bottom! I pretty much wore myself out and rested the rest of the afternoon. Later that afternoon, I went upstairs to finish up some work on the computer. Alec and Tucker came up and played while I worked.
Alec and I had tickets to see Brad Paisley at the BOK Center Saturday night and we went back and forth about going. I had told him several months before - if Brad Paisley ever comes to town, I want to go see him! I'm pretty sure Alec writes the songs Brad Paisley sings...I mean - all of those songs are about me - right?
Anyway, I was tired from my crazed nesting earlier that day and I was super swollen and huge. I was still on the computer trying to figure out parking around the BOK Center. I had total pregnant brain so Alec wanted on the computer to check things out. Before I stood up, I felt something weird. Later, a nurse asked if I heard a "pop" but I think maybe I felt it instead. When I stood up, holy cow, my water had broken! Alec sat down and I just stood there - frozen.
Me: Uhm...my water just broke
Alec: No it didn't. (I had been the "girl who cried water broke" for a few weeks now and he was on to me!)
Me: (pointing to the puddle on the floor) Yes it did.
Alec: Ok...Ok...Ok...HAHAHAHA!!! Ok...Are you ok? OK!
Me: What do I do?!?! What do I do?!?!
So I waddled off to the bathroom, sat on the toilet and started making phone calls. Alec called our doctor who told him I didn't have time for a shower - she didn't want me contracting and miss out on my c-section. We needed to get to the hospital ASAP.
I thought it was a little silly I couldn't shower so...I took a shower. I'm not sure what Alec was doing while I was showering and getting my stuff together. I think he fed the dogs and loaded up all sorts of stuff in the car. Then we were off to the hospital!
Alec drove fast, but very well :-), to the hospital. We may have been on 2 wheels during the entire 6-story climb to the maternity floor at the hospital, but we got there fast and in 1 piece.
Let me tell you something about when your water breaks - which only happens with 1 in 10 pregnancies. When it breaks, there's no stopping it. So while Alec was getting Tucker out of the car and in his stroller and grabbing all sorts of bags, I did the "I gotta pee" dance in the parking garage. Of course I didn't have to pee - I just had amniotic fluid pouring out all over the place.
The distance between the parking garage and the labor and delivery area is incredibly long and I kinda power walked/ jogged the whole way while trying to hold my knees together and carry my purse and overnight bag. Pretty.
My water broke around 4:00, we checked in around 4:30 and were in surgery by 5:45 - super fast...and dramatic!
We had told everyone about missing Brad Paisley so during surgery, someone turned on the radio and just as Thatcher made his appearance at 6:17 pm, Brad's song "Little Moments" came on the radio. How very fitting. Later, after Alec took Thatcher out to meet the world and I was getting put back together, "Hillbilly Bone" came on. Not sure how that works into the story but I thought it was pretty funny.
Thatcher Rippy Davis officially joined the family at 6:17pm on Saturday, November 20, 2010 (our 2 1/2 year anniversary). He weighed 7lbs, 7 oz and was 21 3/4 inches long. I was surprised at his weight because when they delivered him, the doctors and nurses were amazed at how big he was and said he'd be a football player and that I better be glad I had him by c-section.
I finally made it to recovery and after the nurse scooted everyone but Alec and my boys out of the room, we sang Happy Birthday to Thatcher and he nursed for the first time. Such a sweet moment.
And so now here we are. Alec is back at work. Tucker is back in school. And Thatcher and I are trying to figure things out. He's such a sweet baby! He squeaks and grunts a lot and I pretty much have to strip him down to wake him up to eat, but we'll get it all worked out.
After the roller coaster of emotions I've had over the past few weeks, I'm just trying to cherish every little moment.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
It's Not Cute Anymore!
I'm so over being pregnant. It's not cute anymore! I'm definitely in the last few weeks and my patience has completely worn out. I'm tired but can't sleep. I can actually feel my fingers and feet swelling. I really don't like to see myself in the mirror...who's that old fat lady staring back at me? I cry at just about everything. And on top of feeling absolutely horrible about myself, I've got a nice little jealous streak going that has thrown Alec for a loop!
I'm done. I'm soooooo done! Several times a day, I wish with all I have for my water to break, but it won't. The bassinet is all set up, diapers are in the diaper holder, everything is washed and set up and ready for baby. Especially me! But baby could probably use a couple more weeks in the oven.
I get sad when I think about our family dynamic changing - only a few more weeks for Tucker to be any only child and the center of our universe. I feel like I'm sure every other mom of more than one feels - I hope I have enough love, time and energy to go around!
But I can't worry about any of that now. I just want this baby out and for our life with kids to begin!
I'm done. I'm soooooo done! Several times a day, I wish with all I have for my water to break, but it won't. The bassinet is all set up, diapers are in the diaper holder, everything is washed and set up and ready for baby. Especially me! But baby could probably use a couple more weeks in the oven.
I get sad when I think about our family dynamic changing - only a few more weeks for Tucker to be any only child and the center of our universe. I feel like I'm sure every other mom of more than one feels - I hope I have enough love, time and energy to go around!
But I can't worry about any of that now. I just want this baby out and for our life with kids to begin!
Monday, October 11, 2010
33 Going on 39
Today marks our 33 week of pregnancy. I'm not sure if it's the beginning of the 33rd week or the end. I'm too pregnant and stupid to figure out the logistics, I just know I have a 33 on my calendar at work.
I'm so over being pregnant. The ants in the pants that I got with Tucker during the 9th month has hit me early this time around. I totally have ants in the pants and absolutely no patience with this whole pregnancy / miracle of life stuff.
This weekend, the baby has decided to put his seat in the upright position and buckle his seat belt for his final decent. His head is low...I mean LOW so now he's in perfect position to kick the ever lovin' life out of my ribs.
I don't have a cute little bump anymore and I'm far from glowing. I'm a big ol' lump of mama just waddling around red faced and popping Tums like nobody's business.
My hands are swollen as well as my feet. The one pair of shoes that offer a tad bit of comfort make my feet look like popover muffins.
Nothing fits. My shirts are way too short and the waist bands on all of my jeans end up hovering somewhere on the dark side of the moon that is my ginormous belly.
I think I need a haircut, a manicure, a pedicure - fun pretty girl things like that, but who am I kidding? I need to get this baby out, lose about 30 pounds and get in my sassy red high heels again!
The only hope I have is that my water will break. There's no turning back then! They can't give me something and make me go home and wait. Once the amniotic fluid flood begins, the only thing that can be done is birthing of the baby!
But I know that's selfish of me. The baby isn't quite finished baking. It's like when you add shredded cheese to the casserole then you need to bake for 15 more minutes until the cheese is all melted and bubbly. The baby isn't quite bubbly just yet...but almost!
I'm just tired and miserable and gross. I keep promising Alec that in a year, I'm gonna be one hot mama, but I want that NOW!
I have no patience. I need week 39 to be here now - whether it be the beginning of week 39 or the end - I'm not picky.
I'm so over being pregnant. The ants in the pants that I got with Tucker during the 9th month has hit me early this time around. I totally have ants in the pants and absolutely no patience with this whole pregnancy / miracle of life stuff.
This weekend, the baby has decided to put his seat in the upright position and buckle his seat belt for his final decent. His head is low...I mean LOW so now he's in perfect position to kick the ever lovin' life out of my ribs.
I don't have a cute little bump anymore and I'm far from glowing. I'm a big ol' lump of mama just waddling around red faced and popping Tums like nobody's business.
My hands are swollen as well as my feet. The one pair of shoes that offer a tad bit of comfort make my feet look like popover muffins.
Nothing fits. My shirts are way too short and the waist bands on all of my jeans end up hovering somewhere on the dark side of the moon that is my ginormous belly.
I think I need a haircut, a manicure, a pedicure - fun pretty girl things like that, but who am I kidding? I need to get this baby out, lose about 30 pounds and get in my sassy red high heels again!
The only hope I have is that my water will break. There's no turning back then! They can't give me something and make me go home and wait. Once the amniotic fluid flood begins, the only thing that can be done is birthing of the baby!
But I know that's selfish of me. The baby isn't quite finished baking. It's like when you add shredded cheese to the casserole then you need to bake for 15 more minutes until the cheese is all melted and bubbly. The baby isn't quite bubbly just yet...but almost!
I'm just tired and miserable and gross. I keep promising Alec that in a year, I'm gonna be one hot mama, but I want that NOW!
I have no patience. I need week 39 to be here now - whether it be the beginning of week 39 or the end - I'm not picky.
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