Random postpartum thoughts

My daughter is 3 1/2 weeks old and I am just now sitting down to write anything. Surprising? No, not at all.

Life with three kids has not been nearly as bad as I'd feared. The transition from one to two when G was born was harder and my memories of that time are not all good ones. I was an emotional mess, D had more difficult time adjusting and things were pretty overwhelming for a while. I expected a replay of all that, only possibly worse because now I have three, not two.

What has happened has been much smoother, and boy am I grateful. D is older, and although he'll always be sensitive, he's mellowed out some as he's gotten older. He's also not used to being the only recipient of my attention. G has never had me all to himself all the time, so for both of them, adding another little person to the household hasn't been too traumatic. Plus, they have each other and that has made a world of difference. They've bonded over the summer in a way that makes me so happy. G's language skills have improved dramatically and I think that's made it easier for he and D to play together. They have fun, they fight and do what brothers do - but keeping each other company has been a big part of what's made life easier for me now that there are three of them.

And it helps that Little Miss is quite the easy baby. She's mellow most of the time, sleeps a TON, nurses well and doesn't cry a whole lot. Sure, there are times when she won't settle enough for me to put her down for long periods of time, making it tough to get anything done. And my expectations are much lower than they would be without a newborn; its a win if I get a shower, and we're all dressed and fed regularly throughout the day :). And I do look forward to getting more than a couple of hours of sleep at a time. But all in all, I either hit the jackpot with my daughter or she's going to make me pay for this when she's a teenager.

I'm taking things one day at a time and trying very hard not to dwell on the fact that I feel fat and out of shape, or that none of my clothes fit, or I can't find a decent nursing bra that is both comfortable and supportive enough. It isn't always easy having a newborn to care for, let alone a newborn, a 2 year old and a 4 year old. But I know how quickly they grow, how fast things change, and I'm trying to enjoy things for how they are now, even though it can be a little crazy.

More than anything though, I'm so amazed at God's graciousness. I look at my beautiful children and almost can't believe I would be blessed so tremendously. I couldn't possibly have asked for a better scenario - my two kick ass boys and my beautiful little girl. She's like the icing on the cake - and not just any cake, the best, most delicious cake you've ever had.

What a day

Late last night (or perhaps more accurately, early this morning), I woke up to a strong contraction. The clock read 2:45 am. About 5 minutes later, I had another one. Very uncomfortable. I stayed in bed a while, but after one or two more contractions, I realized I wasn't going to be able to sleep, and I got up. I had a feeling it might be the start of labor.

I knew I wasn't ready to go to the hospital just yet, but it felt like that point might be a few hours away. I got up, messed around online a bit, and played a lot of solitaire. I used this handy-dandy online contraction timing tool, and they were averaging about 5 minutes apart. They hurt. Not baby-is-imminent pain, but I figured this was the beginning.

After a while I went downstairs, had a glass of milk, and watched part of Napoleon Dynamite. I was sleepy, but the contractions were still too strong to sleep through. In between each one I wondered if it was going to continue, but as each one came I kept thinking... of course this is it. Now its just a matter of time until they pick up in intensity, and I'll start making phone calls.

By 6am I was really tired, and decided to go back to bed. I knew I needed DH to get up with the boys, even if I was up too. I didn't want to be dealing with diaper changes and breakfast if I was in labor. So I headed back to bed with the sneaking suspicion that the last few contractions had been further apart than before. My husband woke up shortly after I came back to bed and I told him I thought it would be today. When the boys got up a little while later, he told me to stay in bed and rest and he got up with them.

By that point I was so tired, but wishing I had my laptop handy to time the contractions again for a while. They didn't feel like they were coming as fast. Could it be possible that labor wasn't starting? That all these strong, 5-minutes apart contractions were not going to intensify, that I'd fall asleep and wake up later to nothing? A couple hours ago, that had seemed impossible. I was starting to wonder.

Unfortunately, I was right. I fell asleep for about an hour and a half. It was 9:00 am by that point and I had been sleeping... meaning either not having contractions, or they were mild enough that I was once again sleeping through them. I waited a bit. Nothing. No more contractions.

To say I was discouraged would be putting it mildly. I had thought things were getting started, that by that time of morning we'd be at least heading to the hospital, if not there already. I was feeling calm, ready to face the challenge. My anxiousness over labor was gone, resolve in its place. And then everything stopped.

I've spent the day tired, quite uncomfortable and trying very hard to keep a good attitude about the whole mess. Baby will come when she's ready, I know this. I can hang in there as long as necessary; I'm not one to go to my doctor begging for an induction (hardly, pitocin and I don't exactly play nice together, as I discovered with my first). But that was really hard to deal with. I was ready, just waiting it out until it felt like the right time to go - and I'm sure had this been my first baby, I would have gone to the hospital and been sent home. But here I am, wondering if I'll get any sleep tonight, wondering if things will pick up again, wondering how much time I have left before labor really starts and we can get this show on the road. And wondering how long I'm going to have to wait through regular contractions before I can be sure. Part of me feels like it must be soon - how could my body do all that and then stay pregnant for much longer? But part of me knows you just can't predict these things.

Thankfully I have the greatest husband ever. He took care of the boys all day long so I could rest, not complaining at all about the fact that he was tired too (and he was - he expected to be sleeping in this morning, since that's usually the plan on Sundays, and I'm sure he was up late). But he handled things without complaint and let me do what I needed to do, whether it was get out of the house for a while or take a long nap this afternoon. I'm a lucky woman, that's for sure.

So now we keep waiting. I just hope I either get a good nights sleep tonight, or go into labor for real so I don't have to deal with another night of contractions that don't do anything.

Keeping it in perspective.

There was a time when I had to face the possiblity that I wouldn't be able to have children. Not to the extent that some women do, but it took 2 1/2 years before we conceived our first son. That gave us ample time to contemplate - what if the next step doesn't work?... how far are we willing to go?... how much are we willing to spend?... what about adoption?... can we imagine life without kids at all?

Ultimately, we were able to get pregnant without medical intervention (the medical interventions hadn't worked), and then get pregnant two more times very easily. I consider myself extraordinarily lucky, not only to have been able to get pregnant once, but three times. That's a feat many women in my position are never able to accomplish, and many more are only able to do so with a lot of expensive medical help.

I'm keeping that in mind as I look forward to the birth of my third child. I've found myself dreading the labor process, nervous about going through the pain and hard work again. And I've found myself similarly dreading the newborn phase, with the fussiness, the lack of sleep, the early days of nursing, and dealing with all of that along with two other children.

But wait - I get to deal with all of that with two other children?

There is a moment, or perhaps a series of similar moments that blend into one, that keep popping into my head lately. It was around 6 1/2 years ago and I was driving to work in the morning. I wasn't happy at my job and was contemplating whether or not I should start looking for a new one. We'd also recently undergone a series of infertility treatments that hadn't worked and decided to stop because of the expense and emotional toll. I remember looking in my backseat and wishing so hard that there was a carseat there; and that I wasn't going to work, but going to some baby class or a check up at the doctor or to visit my mom. And I prayed, as I did so often then, that God would bless us with a baby soon, and if it couldn't be soon that He would bless us with a baby someday so we would know the joys of raising a family.

He certainly has answered.

Six or 7 years ago I would have given almost anything to be where I am today. Not just pregnant, but pregnant with my third child. So many nights I spent wondering if it would ever happen, and wishing I could at least know the answer to "if", even if I didn't know "when". Here I am, about to actually cross the finish line on that journey. Our little family almost complete.

I need to keep that in mind in the days and weeks ahead. I am so grateful for this gift. No, parenting is not easy and there will be times when I am tired, overwhelmed and frustrated. But instead of thinking with dread on how much work it is to have an infant, I need to keep in mind the woman who wanted this so badly she could taste it, but still had to wait. And all those other women out there who tearfully offer up their prayers that they may be similiarly blessed. I add mine to theirs, a soft plea to the Lord that He may grant their wish and bless them with a child. And may He bless me with the stamina, patience, humility and gratitude that I need to be a good mother to these children, and to get through the harder moments.

Contractions and me

I wish I was one of those women who only got contractions when they are actually in labor - or just about to go into labor. Recently I was talking to a friend of mine about how things went down with her second son. She remembers having one contraction as they were watching something on TV, and it made her wonder. Then nothing for an hour or so, then she had another one. By contraction three, she knew it would be that night and they called me to come (I was going to watch their then-two-year-old). When I got there, she was having regular ones, they went to the hospital, and four or five hours later, her son was born.

I'm the polar opposite. I have daily contractions for the last several months of my pregnancies. And when you get to this point (I'm 37 1/2 weeks at the moment), I get nice, strong, uncomfortable ones some of the time. Not strong enough to make me head to the hospital, or even call my doctor's office. But strong enough to be a pain in the ass. Or more accurately, pain in the uterus.

Yesterday I had contractions about 10 minutes apart for 12 hours. TWELVE HOURS. The problem is, every time my husband and I get busy, I pay for it for the next half a day. And making it slightly more anxiety producing is the fact that my labor with G started in just that way. An afternoon quickie, followed by 12 hours of regular, but not too intense contractions, led up to my contrax picking up in intensity and a few hours later we were headed for the hospital. So you can imagine last night around 10pm, when my contrax had been going since noon, I was starting to wonder if I'd be getting any sleep last night.

Clearly, I wasn't ready to go into labor just yet. Part of me is glad for that. I'd like this baby to bake a little bit longer. Not that 37-ish weeks would be a bad thing, if things started naturally. But a little more time to put on some weight, make sure her lungs are completely ready, and a tiny less time in the extra fussy newborn zone would be great. I'm with Weissbluth on the theory that fussiness peaks at 6 weeks old, then gets better - except it can be 6 weeks from the due date, not necessarily 6 weeks from the date of birth. G was textbook in that department - he was 10 days early and right around 7 1/2 weeks his disposition improved a lot. So, to me, the earlier the baby is born, the longer you get in the extra fussy phase.

But I digress...

I've had a bunch of contractions today too, especially tonight. Nothing regular, nothing too intense. Just enough to make me uncomfortable and remind me of what I'm about to go up against.

Last night I was pretty stressed and upset (hormonally driven in large part, I'm sure). My husband was remarkably understanding. He said it reminds him of wrestling. You're at this tournament and you know you're about to go up against a guy who is really good. He's bigger than you and he's probably going to throw you around pretty good, although you know you can beat him if you work really hard. The time leading up to the match leaves you with butterflies in your stomach and you really don't want to be there. You almost want to quit and walk away, but you stay, and you face it. You wrestle the guy and its really hard, you're exhausted by the end, but you won and it was worth it. I told him its a pretty good analogy, especially from a guy's perspective. But you have to add one thing - in this case, you have to show up to this ongoing tournament day after day and you don't know when your match is going to come up until right before you have to wrestle. So you sit there on the bleachers, trying to be ready, but not too ready; trying not to think too hard about what you have to do or whether the guy is going to be hard to beat. You sit there day after day, until finally, the coach calls your name. But until then, you wait.

The waiting is tedious. Will it be tonight? Next week? September 1st? No real way to know, and in the meantime I have all these damn contractions to keep me company.

Spoke too soon

Apparently I was wrong on two counts about having my mom with me during labor/delivery. My husband doesn't mind if she comes, and unbeknownst to me, she's already been preparing.

I told my husband last night that I wasn't sure if I would have her come, and that part of the reason is because he didn't seem to want her there. He assured me that he doesn't mind at all, and if I want her here, it's more than fine with him. I still maintain that part of him wasn't kidding, and he feels as if I'm saying he isn't good enough - but he swears that isn't the case.

As for my reservations about how committed my mom really is to being there - she called me this afternoon to tell me she's been reading up on labor coaching and such online. I haven't even talked to her about any of it in months, so obviously she not only remembered that I'd asked, she's been preparing. That made me feel quite a bit better. I was so worried that if/when I brought it up, her reaction would be lukewarm. Like if I said, "So, do you want me to call you day or night so you can come down?" she might have hesitated, or acted as if she didn't really want to come at all hours, but would if I wanted her to. I guess I was wrong.

So I think my mom will be coming down to help me through labor and delivery - and knowing that she's fully on board and my husband is too makes it feel like the right thing.

Now onto my next problem - I can't seem to get my wedding ring off my finger...

The mom dilemma (as in, my mom)

Early on this pregnancy, I was contemplating if I want to do anything different while I'm in labor. I've tossed around the idea of a doula, since I think the concept is wonderful and I'm sure it would help. The cost, however, is definitely an issue. Then I got to thinking - maybe my mom could fill that role.

My husband means well and to his credit, both times he's been more than willing to do/get anything I ask for. But the problem is, I have to ask. When I'm in the midst of high pain, I'd kind of like someone to suggest things - here, try sitting on the ball for a while. Do you want to sit in the tub? Does rubbing your lower back help? That kind of thing. My husband gets a little overwhelmed and doesn't really know what to try. He's great if I ask for ice, or cold water, or help with something. But I think it might be helpful to have someone there who has been there, done that and can take things a step further to help keep me relaxed and comfortable as much as possible during the worst of it.

I asked my husband early on if he'd mind if I asked my mom to be there to help. He said something along the lines of, "Of course not - whatever you need is fine with me." That was early on. More recently his attitude has taken the sound of, "I guess I'm not good enough to help you birth our baby and you need your mom here since I suck." He's half kidding - but only half.

While I realize I'm the one giving birth, therefore what I need is the most important thing and he can live with it - I'm also sensitive to his feelings on the subject. If at the getgo he had said he didn't like the idea of my mom being there, I probably would have said ok and not worried about it. But this gets trickier because months ago, I asked my mom if she'd be willing to come and help me through my labor. So it's already out there.

Last night he brought it up and asked if my mom would be coming. I haven't talked to her about it in a long time, but I'm sure she remembers that I asked. He still feels a little put out that I would have her there. And to be fair to him, it's more than just his ego. He wants it to be more intimate, the moment we meet our child for the first time. He doesn't like the idea of anyone else being there (except the doctor and nurses of course - he has no interest in doing things himself, LOL). And I do understand where he's coming from.

But now I have to decide if I want to ask my mom again if she can be there, or if I should just let it go and not call her right away when the time comes. I do know that I'm blessed with a mother who won't take it personally, make me feel guilty, or make a big deal out of it. Whatever I want will be fine with her, whether I have her come or not. Well, she might be a little disappointed if I don't have her there, but it won't be a big deal.

The other thing I have to consider is how willing my mom really is to come, day or night. She's very busy with her job and although she has the flexibility to leave at a moments notice, I don't know if she really wants to - or maybe it's whether she feels like she can. It's a part of my relationship with my mom that sometimes troubles me, but I feel like it's the selfish child left inside me that gets rubbed wrong. If you asked me if my mom would be willing to drop everything for me - the answer would be yes, and no. Yes, she would in a heartbeat if I told her I really needed her. But it isn't always her first instinct. She has a busy life of her own and she's grown quite accustomed to her children being self sufficient adults. It's not that she isn't willing to help or doesn't want to - but she doesn't always think of doing that above other things. I mean, she does - but at the same time, she doesn't. Don't get me wrong, my mom is wonderful and I have a fabulous relationship with her. But I wonder, if I talk to her about coming and ask if she wants me to have her come day or night, I have a feeling she'll hesitate.

So it makes me wonder if I should go ahead and ask her to be there or not. I guess the bottom line is how badly do I want her there, and I'm torn on that count as well. While I think she would be helpful, right now I'm not feeling sure that she'd be helpful enough to overcome my husband's reservations about having her there. And I know he'd feel put aside and probably end up sitting and watching, feeling useless, and I don't like that.

I have some more time to consider it, so for now I think I'll leave it up in the air. But it has my tendency to overthink things going into overdrive. And let's be honest - if I wasn't overthinking this, I'd be overthinking something else...

The weird things about Sunday

Sunday was my baby shower. It wasn't a regular shower, really. We met at one of those places where you can paint your own pottery and then went out to dinner. It was nice, we had a good time - but I was pretty surprised at how few people actually showed up. I invited 33 people and 5 showed up. Five. I have to admit, that was pretty disappointing. It wasn't about the presents at all - in that sense, it wasn't a traditional help the mom stock up on stuff shower. I just wanted to celebrate the fact that I'm having this baby by getting together with family and friends. But apparently any sort of celebration for a third baby isn't too high on people's priority lists.

The really crazy thing is that the one and only member of my family to show up was my aunt who lives 2 hours away! This when the venue was 5 minutes from another aunt, and maybe 20 minutes from 2 others. I'm quite appreciative of my aunt who did come - it means a lot to me that she would drive all that way, especially when no one else felt compelled to come.

In any case, the other weird thing about Sunday was that I had contractions starting at about 2 until probably 10:00 that night. They weren't the type to make me think I was in labor, and I'm certainly prone to bouts of contractions in the weeks leading up to the baby's arrival. That much is normal for me. What wasn't so normal was how long these lasted. They were probably 10 minutes apart or so, but whereas typically I would expect them to taper off after an hour or maybe two, these just kept coming. I was starting to wonder not if I was in labor then, but if I would be headed that direction overnight or possibly on Monday. As it turns out, my uterus was probably just irritable from all the activity that day and had I the opportunity to lie down, they would have stopped. But I didn't, so they kept coming. It was annoying and uncomfortable and did motivate me to pack my hospital bag, just in case.

I'll be 37 weeks tomorrow, considered full term. I'm hanging in there, but definitely at the point where if this baby is ready to come, she can make her appearance any time now. I'm a bit apprehensive about labor, and bringing a newborn home, but man am I uncomfortable. And tired. I don't remember the last weeks being this grueling with my boys. I think I'm carrying her low and its probably putting more pressure on my pelvis and bladder. I never want to be one of those "get this kid out of me now!" women, I can hang in there for the long haul if I have to - but if she wants to come a little earlier, that would be great by me.

The boys' room

We have four bedrooms in our house, but a while back we decided that our two boys would share a room and the baby would get the room G is in now. The boys' room, as it would become, started out as D's room and it is HUGE. G's room is probably half the size. In any case, it seemed to fit well that the boys could share the big bedroom and our baby girl could have the small bedroom. One of the other bedrooms is obviously ours, and the final one is currently occupied by my sister-in-law, and once she moves out (someday, but not anytime soon) it will be a guest room/office (which is what it was before she lived here).

So... the plan originally was to wait until G was ready for a big boy bed to move him out of his room. He has a crib in his room and this crib will definitely not survive being taken apart and moved again. It's in good condition and perfectly safe, but it doesn't fit through the doorway unless you take it partially apart, and I remember when we moved it from D's room to G's, we decided we would not be taking it apart again - it would have to live in that room for the duration of its useful life or we'd risk stripping the screw holes.

Lately I've been thinking about whether we should get a second crib and move G into D's room sooner rather than later - and not make it about the big boy bed (there's a set of bunk beds in there now). We were just on vacation and the room we were in had a queen for us and a twin with a trundle bed. The first night DH was all about the idea of trying G out on the twin trundle, thinking if he slept fine there all week, we could transition him to the big boy bed at home. His sleep on that bed was anything but fine. The poor guy was so restless and didn't sleep well at all. The next night we put him in the pack-n-play we brought with us and he slept like a rock the rest of the week - naps and at night. Clearly he still needs the security of a crib.

This led me to the idea of getting the second crib, although I definitely didn't want to invest much money, since he won't be in a crib *that* much longer. So I got a really basic one from Ikea and my best friend still had her crib mattress, which kept the cost very reasonable. I picked it up today and we (and by we, I mean mostly my friend) but the crib together and G is sleeping in it as I type.

On one hand, I'm relieved we did it this way. Now there is no pressure to move G to a big boy bed or to free up his room. He'll be plenty used to sleeping in his new digs by the time baby arrives, so the change won't go hand-in-hand with new baby sister. I can start moving stuff out of his room and start organizing the new baby's stuff, something I've been dying to do lately. We can do bedtime with the boys together much more easily, in turn making it easier for one person to put both boys to bed, something that will come in handy when we have a newborn to care for soon. And we'll be able to put the baby in her room whenever we want. Both boys slept in our room for a while, so we didn't *have* to move G yet. But now we have the flexibility to use that room for the baby at any point, rather than it being a big hassle to move G out and all that.

On the other hand... its been an emotional night for me. This makes it feel about 1000 times more real that we are bringing home a third child soon. We've talked for months about how the boys will eventually share a room, and now here we are. And I have this touch of guilt that the room now looks like D's room with a random crib on one wall - not like THEIR room. Obviously that's completely my issue, as my 2-year old couldn't care less. Luckily DH was with me on this (the concept, if not the guilt), and we're going to do a few things to rearrange and decorate that will incorporate some of what is now in G's room into the new space, making it more their room.

A lot of changes going on in my house lately. And more to come...

Nesting, foiled

I thought I read somewhere that the nesting urge is usually accompanied by a burst of energy - in other words, you get real motivated to clean and organize and you find yourself with the energy to do so. My body apparently didn't get that memo.

Right now I would give just about anything for an organized pantry. We have this amazing pantry that is literally a small room. But we're not using the space well; only one wall has shelves on it and the rest tends to get piled with random crap. It's a mess right now and has been for months. Also for months I've been talking about putting in more shelves, but I guess I keep finding reasons to not spend the money. As of right now, I don't give a crap how much it costs, I just want more shelves in there so I can clean it up and organize things. Seriously, this urge is so strong it's killing me that I can't do anything about it.

The problem is, I get tired so quickly the very thought of going to Home Depot to get the shelves is exhausting - let alone putting them up and doing all the work to reorganize. I asked my husband this afternoon if he'd go get the shelves with me and install them. He wasn't particularly interested in indulging my nesting urge. If I had pressed the issue, he probably would have given in eventually, but he'd have been grumpy about it, so I left it alone.

Tonight I tried, rather unsuccessfully, to explain to him why this whole thing is so distressing to me. I don't think he understands at all. Not that I blame him, really - it doesn't make a whole lot of sense that the unorganized pantry would be the cause of my tearful breakdown after we'd put the boys to bed. The problem is, my anxiety right now isn't about the pantry, or the mess of toys in the family room, or the once again dirty kitchen that I just cleaned up, or even the fact that I could vacuum the damn floor eight times a day and it would always be dirty.

I feel out of control, unorganized and helpless to do much of anything about it. The pantry is my glaring example and the current focus of my distress. It's a mess, there's stuff in there that needs to be thrown out, other stuff that needs a place, and so much potential to be a great storage area. I was feeling super motivated to fix the problem, but I'm not physically able to do it. I can't lift heavy stuff, and probably more importantly, I don't have the stamina. I get winded walking up the stairs, I had to sit down for 10 minutes after I did the dishes this afternoon and if I'm not careful I'll either give myself a fit of braxton hicks contractions or a serious backache, or both.

And as willing as my husband is to help, he doesn't get it. He keeps asking me what he can do, what I need, how he can fix it. Um, put up shelves in the pantry? But besides that, I do need him to help me more. Part of my anxiety is the fact that I physically can't keep up with everything right now without overdoing it, yet I have a hard time delegating tasks to him. Part of it is definitely my issue, but I have to say, part of it is him. He tends to forget to do things I've asked him to do, which makes me feel like I have to ask and remind 20 times, and then I really feel like a nagging wife. I also hate the inevitable sob story about how he so didn't want to do the dishes last night, but he made himself get it done because he knew he needed to, blah, blah, blah. I end up feeling guilty for asking him to help around the house - again, partly my issue, I know.

The bottom line is, my house is a disorganized mess and I don't have the energy to do everything that needs to be done. And I hate that. My desire to fix the pantry is so strong, but I can't do it, and lacking a house boy who will do my bidding without complaint, I'm sort of stuck. I hate the idea of sitting around issuing orders along the lines of put this here, put that there, this needs to be done, now that needs to be done... But to get things the way I would have them right now, had I the energy, that's exactly what I would have to do, and it isn't going to happen. Once I start listing things I need my husband to do, I have until about item three before his eyes glaze over and I know I've lost him.

He keeps reminding me this is only temporary, and probably the last time I'll be pregnant, so on and so forth. Of course, he's right. But it doesn't change the fact that I'm a raging mess of hormones who can't breathe deeply and wants a clean and organized house more than he could possibly imagine.

I hate feeling helpless.

A little worry - but probably not

I have this little worry in the back of my head that I'm on the verge of unexpected pregnancy complications and it's going to result in needing to try to deliver this baby early. Why? Probably mostly because I'm hormonal and achey. But my blood pressure was a little higher than it usually is at my last appointment - not high, per se. But it has been very consistent at every appointment, and last week it was a little higher. Neither the nurse nor my OB even mentioned it, but the number stuck in my head and made me wonder. I did have high BP with my first, and it got pretty bad at the end. All was well, but I did have my labor augmented with pitocin, and let me tell you, me and pit do not get along so well. I'm very motivated to keep that from happening again, if I can.

There was also a bit of sugar in my urine, so she tested my blood sugar and it was 120. That isn't high per se, and both the nurse and my OB seemed to dismiss it as an issue. But all I'd eaten that morning was a bowl of cereal and a glass of milk and I was getting hungry again - so to me, I can't help but wonder if under those circumstances 120 was higher than it ought to be. Then again, maybe I run higher than one would expect for a bit before my blood sugar drops off again. I did fail the 1 hour GTT, and that is probably why - at one hour, it was higher than they'd like it to be, but when I took the 3 hour, my 2 and 3 hour readings especially were great.

I'm overthinking things, I'm sure. I'm just hoping that things continue to go smoothly and I'm not blindsided by a random complication like high BP or (God forbid), preecclampsia - especially if that means we have to try to induce early and I end up with a baby who wasn't quite ready to come out, or a c-section, or both.

Truthfully, I'm hoping that if I write this down I will somehow bend the tides of fate and by predicting that something is about to go wrong, I will prove myself wrong and everything will go fine. Like if I predict it, it therefore cannot happen. Nice logic, huh?

Caffeine detox.. aka my head hurts

I think I have a caffeine headache - as in, lack of caffeine. I don't drink a ton of it - I'm not a regular coffee drinker or anything. But I probably have a diet coke most days, so when I go a few days without, I do get a headache.

My husband is a huge diet coke addict, but when he drinks too much of it, he gets really bad acid reflux. I wish he could just learn something about moderation and keep it to a level that doesn't hurt his stomach. But what always happens is he quits drinking it for a while because his symptoms get so bad, and eventually he'll start drinking it again but only at restaurants. Then he'll get some once in a while elsewhere, but we won't keep it around the house. Pretty soon he'll be drinking several cans/bottles a day again and it will escalate to the point that he's up half the night with horrible heartburn. Then he decides to lay off it again... rinse, repeat.

In any case, when we have it around the house, I tend to drink it too, although rarely more than once a day. But it's enough that when I stop, as I said, my head hurts. It usually doesn't bother me until about day three, and that was today I think. Last week we were on vacation and my husband did some serious damage to himself with all the diet coke he was sucking down; I think he figured it was his last hurrah before he had to cut back again. So I figured this would be as good at time as any to detox myself from caffeine as well. I couldn't drink any caffeine when I was nursing D, so I want to be prepared to cut out caffeine with this baby too, just in case. And I figure now is probably a better time to go through the withdrawl headache than when I'm sleep deprived, hormonal and caring for a newborn 24/7.

Of course, its making an already uncomfortable time all the more uncomfortable, but I'm hoping that by tomorrow or the next day my head will feel fine and all I'll have left is the back pain, the sore pelvis, the shortness of breath and fatigue. Oh, and the heartburn - can't forget the heartburn.

I'm turning into such a complainer.

Random thoughts at 35-ish weeks

I'll be 35 weeks tomorrow. We're hitting the point where it could be two more weeks (although I doubt it will be that soon), or it could be 6 more weeks (again, sort of doubt it will be quite that long, but you never know). Like I've said a million times now, my boys were 5 days and 10 days early (or 8 and 10 depending on which due date I use for D), so it is very easy to assume she'll be born about a week early. But you just never know and I want to be prepared to be pregnant longer, so I'm not too disappointed if she comes later.

However, I have to admit, it is going to feel awfully good to not be pregnant anymore. And for the record, my prediction is August 24th. Which I'm sure means it won't be that day.

Today hasn't been bad contraction-wise, but I still get a lot of them. I already feel like I've been flirting with early labor for weeks, and I have weeks left to go. You'd think this would give me a little jump start on dilation, but if this pregnancy is anything like my last two, I'll be closed up tight until the last minute despite my uterus's love affair with a certain braxton hicks.

If it weren't for my house being air conditioned, I think I would die. It was darn near 100 today, if not slightly above. That is seriously hot, especially when you don't have a lake to jump in like we did in Chelan last week. It was this hot there, but there's something about being on vacation and having a pool and a nice clear lake to swim in that makes such high heat a lot more bearable - fun, even.

I'm down to weekly doctor appointments now. I have the next 5 scheduled, but I'm hoping I only make it to the next four. Either tomorrow or next week he'll be doing a quick ultrasound to check to make sure she's head down and growing like she should be. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous about it - I'm fully entrenched in the daughter mentality, if there's actually a penis it's going to seriously freak me out. I guess I'm still feeling like it's too good to be true. I've been brave enough to start putting clothes away, but I haven't taken any tags off, nor washed anything, and the receipts are all still there. I do hope we get another good look so maybe I can let go of that last little bit of "what if" anxiety. I tell ya, I'm going to laugh at myself about this later.

I'd also be lying if I said I wasn't getting nervous about having a newborn again. Getting? Maybe I have been all along, to some degree.

Counting down the weeks and they're flying by....

Random thoughts

I'll be 33 weeks in a couple of days. As far as stuff goes, I'm feeling pretty prepared. I got a great set of hand-me-downs from a friend - seriously some of the best hand-me-down baby stuff I've ever seen! I always had a lot of stuff for the boys from another friend, but by the time it got to me it had been through her two boys and their cousin, so a lot of it was really worn. This stuff is all practically brand new, and most of it Gymboree. Can't complain about that! So even though I'm starting from scratch in the clothes department, between the handful of things I've picked up and the stuff my friend gave me, I'm more or less set.

As far as having the baby goes, I suppose I'm as prepared as I'll ever be. I know it's going to be challenging having a newborn again, especially with the boys. D will be helpful for the most part, and he's largely self-sufficient (four is a great age), but G is still firmly entrenched in the terrible twos and I don't expect him to emerge anytime soon. It's going to be busy, tiring and sometimes downright overwhelming, I'm sure. But I know the newborn stage won't last forever and we'll all come out ok on the other side. I'm going to need reminding of that now and then...

I saw my grandmother yesterday, which was nice. Like most people, she asked about names, and although we actually think we know what we're naming her (not 100% sure), we're not telling and I've been deflecting the question lately by saying we simply haven't decided and then changing the subject. Partly I want it to be something of a surprise and partly I just don't feel like discussing our name choices. In any case, she brought it up and I could tell she did so because she'd heard one of the names we're considering and felt she needed to tell me that her neice, my dad's cousin, has a daughter with that name. And she phrased it with, "But there's already one in the family." So? I honestly don't know if I've ever met my dad's cousin in my entire life. Maybe once - I remember meeting her sister, but I'm not sure if she was there at the time. I know who she is, I know her parents fairly well, but she's not what I would consider close family by any stretch. Anyway, I just thought it was weird that my grandma figured we'd throw out a name just because some obscure family member who we never see used it. I seriously couldn't care less what my dad's cousin's kids are named, but I didn't want to sound too harsh about it. See, this is why I don't want to discuss names with others - I so don't want all the opinions and "I knew someone with that name and they were such a bitch..." and "But so and so's cousin's sister's former roommate named her kid that..." Blah, blah, blah. Like I care.

Horomonal much? Sorry.

With just over 7 weeks to go, I'm wondering more and more what this baby looks like, and I have to be honest, I'm still wondering if she's really a girl. The little nugget of doubt in my mind is so annoying, but I don't know if I'll relax about it until she's here. Maybe if we get a good look at our next ultrasound in a few weeks (my doc will do a quick one to check her position), but I know I'm going to be nervous that we'll see a penis. I am so excited at the prospect of actually having a daughter, I don't want it to be taken away from me. But I think about other things too - will she look like her brothers? Will she be darker skinned like Daddy and D, or lighter skinned like me and G? Will she also have brown eyes, like her brothers do or will she be the one to confirm hubby has a recessive gene? (He theoretically could, since both his parents are dominant/recessive, but he might be dominant/dominant, in which case any child he ever had would be brown eyed). Will she be active or mellow? Will she sleep? Oh please oh please let this one be a good sleeper....

Not much time left and with so much going on from week to week, I have a feeling the next month and a half is going to fly by as quickly as the last several months have. I'm going to be having this baby before I know it!

Difficult conversation, difficult decisions

My husband and I had a conversation tonight about the guardianship of our children should something happen to us. It's a subject I hate to even ponder (especially with my raging hormones) because the very thought... I can't bear it. But I also know that we've been terribly remiss in not making sure we have things ironed out legally, so if the unthinkable did happen, the transition would be as smooth as it could be.

For a long time we assumed that our best friends would take our kids. In many ways, they are still a great option. We're all very close, our boys adore their two boys, adore them, they live literally right next door... Lots of reasons to choose them. But we both have to admit there are a few concerns making us question whether that would be the best place for our kids - particularly concerns about the wife, L. L is certainly one of my closest friends, but in a strange sort of "you're basically my sister, so I'm stuck with you rather than having chosen you" way. I love her dearly, but there are things about her that drive me crazy and things that make me wonder what kind of a mother figure she'd be to my kids. My husband and I are both worried that our kids would grow up feeling like a burden. I don't question whether the husband, A, loves my kids - I do question whether L does. Sometimes I catch something in her tone or in her eyes that makes me feel like she thinks my boys are, I don't know... annoying, maybe. I'm worried that, if I'm not imaginging it, my kids would pick up on it and never feel truly loved, truly at home.

I'm also concerned because L has never made any attempt to hide the fact that she does not want a girl. Part of the reason they stopped at two kids was because of her reluctance to chance having a girl. I'm sure that wasn't the only reason, and probably not even the most important. But she thinks little girls are all annoying drama queens. I also happen to believe that there's a big part of her that doesn't want the pressure of being the primary role model for a same-sex child. She likes the idea of having the option of sending the kids to daddy when questions get awkward as they grow up. Being a mom has been a great growing experience for her, especially because she stays home full time, but there's still a part of her that doesn't like being the one in charge, being the place where the buck stops. If she has boys, I think she feels that more of the responsibility for how they turn out can fall on her husband's shoulders; with a girl, she'd have to take more of that responsibility on herself and that scares her.

So here I am, about to have a girl (I think), and I have to ask - if something happened to us, is the best place for my daughter with a woman who doesn't want a daughter at all? I really don't know. Perhaps she'd let go of that piece of herself and embrace my daughter whole-heartedly. She's a good person; it isn't like she's a complete selfish bitch. But still, it's a worry.

Our other obvious option is my mom and stepdad, but it's telling that when we talk about it we only refer to my mom. My stepdad is a good guy, but he's not the best at being a father. He's an awesome grandpa, but it's a lot easier to be an awesome grandpa than an active father. I think if my mom had custody of them, she would do 99% of the parenting stuff; he'd be around a little for that, but not much. Our daughter certainly wouldn't have a strong father figure in her life, whereas with our friends she would. But there's no question in my mind that all our kids would be loved and taken care of well. There are things about that possibility that aren't ideal either (their age, the length of time its been since they had kids of their own at home, the amount of time they both have to travel for work, etc.). But I also think that if we were gone, and they had our kids, they'd do everything to make it work and always make the best interests of our kids their priority.

I also need to bring up to my husband the possiblity of my brother. I'm not sure we should discount him, although he's not the obvious choice. He's single, for one thing. He won't necessarily always be single, and certainly his choice of wife could change our decision. It would be a major adjustment for him to make, going from being on his own to raising three kids. It might be too much, really. But he loves them so much and he'd be a great father to his own kids (and I hope he'll get to be someday). I'm not sure, but the thought occurred to me that he might be an option, so I'll have to see how my husband feels about it.

The hardest part is knowing that there aren't any great scenarios. None of these options are US. No one else would ever do as good of a job raising our kids as we will, because no one are us. No one else would do things exactly the way we do, or would love them they way we do. I'm literally in tears as I write this, but I'm making myself finish because I know it's something we need to figure out, something we need to face in order to do right by our kids. Obviously my greatest hope is that these decisions never, ever matter. But it would be worse to leave our kids without a firm direction if we were gone, leave it to become a potential fight between the people who think they should have them. It needs to be clear cut and in writing so we don't have to worry about what would happen if we're not there to protect them.

Thirty-something weeks

Last Wednesday, I hit 30 weeks. Just 10 short weeks until my due date, and possibly a bit less until this little one actually makes her arrival. The boys were both born before their due dates, which leads me to believe she'll probably be about a week early. Like I've been telling people though, I've said that so many times she'll probably decide she needs to prove me wrong and come in September after all. Only time will tell on that one.

I alternate between feeling a lot of excitement and anticipation at her impending arrival, and a sense of fear at what it will be like to have a newborn to care for once again. My husband and I aren't crazy about the newborn phase. The constant care, the crying, the not sleeping... breasts hurting and what is probably an inevitable bout of mastitis... not sleeping... Newborns are amazingly wonderful in their smallness, sweetness and softness. They're so helpless and so compelling. And so much work. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried that caring for a newborn while simultaneously caring for my two boys (particularly G who is such a handful) is going to do me in. But at the same time, I'm growing more curious by the day as to what she'll look like, how big she'll be, what pieces of her personality will show. And, yes, waiting anxiously for that ultimate confirmation that I am truly having a daughter and the small, but growing pile of pink and lavendar clothes won't all need to be returned to the store.

I'm doing my best to enjoy the last couple months of what should be my last pregnancy. I'm uncomfortable a lot - I don't remember my pelvis aching so much before. But in spite of that, there are so many amazing things about being pregnant. Feeling the baby move is absolutely one of the most incredible sensations - and this little one gives me plenty of opportunities to enjoy it. She's so active, there are times that I am amazed by her strength. And I often find myself wondering what her belly-antics mean about who she is.

I am, however, more than at peace with this being my last foray into motherhood. I have so many feelings swirling around - happy that this experience is nearing the end, nervous about the next chapter, nostalgic for the enjoyable parts of pregnancy knowing this is the last time, and above all, so grateful and amazed at how blessed we are.

Writing again

In my spare time (ha ha, right?), I am attempting to write a book. I started it years ago, before I was pg with my first son. Back when I started, I had all these grandiose ideas of how it would go down. I'd get so caught up in writing, I'd be up late at night and struggle through the workday the following day. I even started trying to convince my husband that if we weren't pregnant by the end of the year (this was early 2004), then I would either take a leave of absence or quit my job so I could write full time for a while.

Then I got pregnant and my writing came to a grinding halt. My fiction writing, that is. For a while I had started to fear I wasn't actually getting anywhere, writing scenes that excited my imagination, but not much to link them together. Parts of it flowed well, but I had so many ideas and so many things I wanted to have happen, and much of it came to be with thoughts of "wouldn't it be cool if..." and I'd write the chapter. And then my pregnancy seemed to suck me dry of any creative energy I had. I'd sit at my computer and get nowhere. It was like I'd run out of gas.

At first, I didn't worry too much about it because I figured after I had the baby, I'd get my brain back and start up again. That was well over five years ago and save for the last several weeks, I quite literally hadn't even opened most of my files.

Something woke up in me recently, and I find it a little ironic that I happen to be pregnant again. I blamed my lack of focus and creativity on my first pregnancy, then later on my lack of time. But somehow I'm back to thinking about this story, daydreaming about the characters, and finding little bits of time to squeeze in writing. I'm not sure what has changed, but I'm happy about it. I'd made such a big deal about my grand ambitions to be a novelist, I've spent the last five years feeling a little bit like a failure. Not that I didn't think I could, and would, pick it up again. But I'd been feeling like "someday" was taking a lot longer to reach than I'd originally thought.

And with that, I'm going to go park myself on the couch and instead of mindlessly flipping channels, I'm going to do some writing. That, and covet a new, lightweight laptop...

Feeling better

Thankfully, yesterday was a low. I feel a lot better today. I went to the gym, had to stop by the hubby's office, came home for lunch and a non-nap for Grayson (darnit), went to Target in the afternoon AND made dinner which kept me on my feet for quite a while - and I'm ok. I'm tired, for sure, but not exhausted and my back feels a bit tired, but not horribly achey. Thank goodness! Yesterday I was beginning to feel like I was going to be begging to get this baby out by late August. Today I'm feeling more like myself and more like I'll be able to get through the next 12-give-or-take weeks.

In other, slightly crappier, news, I have to take the 3-hour GTT tomorrow. Apparently my blood glucose level was "slightly elevated", as the nurse put it, when I took the 1-hour test, so I have to go in for the 3-hour. I am very much NOT looking forward to that experience, given that the glucose stuff makes me feel sick until I can eat something else, and this is going to be not a one hour ordeal, but a three. Lovely. I wish I would have thought to check my blood sugar a few times this week to see what seems to be going on, but I kept forgetting. In any case, my hope is that I can make it the whole three hours without needing to lie down, but we'll see how that goes. If only they'd let me leave the doctor's office in between, but they don't, so I get to sit in a waiting room for three hours. Fun, fun. I'm just hoping I pass this one and am not developing GD.

But I'm not going to worry too much about that tonight. For now, I once again feel like I'm going to survive this pregnancy without turning into a total shrew.

Can I have some cheese...

...with my whine?

I feel fat. Not just pregnant, I feel FAT. I go to my workout class and I feel like a giant whale trying to move on land. I think the baby is making up for the fact that my fundal height was a little on the low side at my last appointment and growing exponentially the last few days. I'm in a constant state of discomfort, between my belly feeling so stretched and my back aching. And I feel like I'm hitting the point where I'm packing on FAT, not just weight, and I'm going to blow up like a freaking balloon.

And I still have 12 weeks (give or take) to go. Ugh.

Coming up for air

Over the holiday weekend I quite literally lost myself in the Twilight series. The books were far better than I'd imagined. I was completely sucked in finished all four books in four days. Although my house is still recovering, my husband was a great sport and helped out a lot so I could disappear into the expanse of my imagination for a while.

I haven't let myself go into a book like that in quite some time - probably since before I had kids. The allure of a good story, of feeling like I'm half living in that world, is almost like a drug to me. I love the sensation of letting my imagination run free, of living in a world that isn't my own. Its why I've always loved reading fantasy novels - I love being caught up in a world where anything is possible.

It isn't just the story in the book that gets me though. Reading something that sucks me in so completely triggers so much in my own mind - ideas, characters, plotlines, possibilities. Its why I started attempting to write fiction in the first place. I can get just as lost writing my own stories as I can reading the works of others.

I haven't written much of anything fictional in a long time now. When I was pregnant with my first son I found that my creativity ground to a halt, like my creative energy was being used up and I didn't have anything left when I sat down at my keyboard. And so things have sat, untouched, for a long time. But I feel like losing myself in a story once again has reopened the door to my creativity. I remember the reason I love to write, the reason I want to write an honest to goodness novel someday. Its what I'm passionate about. I can write to make money, as I do, and it's fine. But there's no passion behind it. Creating a story, one that allows me to live in my imagination for a while, is what really gets me going. And for the first time in a long time, I'm feeling like it might be possible to get to that place again. Maybe I'll actually finish...

In the meantime, I feel like I'm coming up for air after a long submersion. I'm blinking in the sunlight of reality. Although it's a great reality, it's been a little harder than I remember to get back into the swing of my real life. But I think I can manage.

Choosing to have a good day

The other day my husband told me I've been grumpy all the time lately. Ouch. I didn't think I'd been *that* grumpy, but maybe from his perspective I have. Five days a week he comes home when I'm at my most tired, and probably most likely to be grumpy, even if I've been cheery all day. It got me thinking.

I am tired a lot. Being pregnant with my two boys isn't easy. G is such a handful, there are days when I wonder if I'm going to survive that kid. Trying to get through everything in a day is exhausting and it makes me more than a little nervous to think about going through each day not pregnant, but with an infant. If I think I'm tired now, we ain't seen nothing yet.

I realized that part of the problem is that I let my attitude go downhill, especially on days when I haven't had a good night's sleep. Goodness knows there are a million reasons a pregnant mother of two might not get enough sleep, so this seems to be happening a lot lately. But I find myself dwelling all day on the things I don't feel energetic enough to get done, or how I can't sit down for five seconds without D needing something or G getting into something he shouldn't. My life as it is right now is going to wear me out physically, there's no getting around that. Having a 31lb toddler that I can't help but lift numerous times a day will do that to you, pregnant or not. But mentally, that's another story. I have some choice in the matter of my attitude and how I approach life with two, soon to be three, young children.

I'm making a conscious effort to be happy. I firmly believe happiness is largely a choice, and how I deal with the day to day messes of life is something entirely within my control. If G once again empties the contents of the craft drawer onto the floor during the 90 seconds I'm in the bathroom or D pitches a fit because G won't stop knocking over his block tower, I am faced with a choice: let myself be exasperated, mentally remind myself how tired and annoyed I am, yell at my kids and carry the tension around with me until the next incident occurs and builds on the previous until I feel like I'm going to snap. Or.... take a deep breath and deal with each thing as it comes with an attitude that is lighter, more cheerful and rooted in the reality that I want to like my life each day and have the ability to make that happen.

Yes, my boys are going to do things that make me crazy. But over the last few days I've tried really hard to remain cheerful and happy even when those things happen, and you know what... it works. No, I'm not suddenly a Stepford Wife, walking around in a 50's era house dress, perfectly curled hair and a creepy smile plastered on my face. But taking that breath and reminding myself that I want to have a good day, even in the face of yet another roll of toilet paper mired in the toilet, or another morning of maddening indecision about the perfect show and tell item, has really made a difference in how I feel.

I'm conscious of this because I know that in a few short months, life IS actually going to get crazier. I was unhappy a lot of the time after G was born, feeling exhausted and overwhelmed and like I couldn't possibly meet the needs of these two little people simultaneously. I don't want to go through that again, at least not to that degree. I know I'm going to be tired, I know I'm going to be overwhelmed. I also hope that if I practice now, when things are just crazy times two, when things get crazy times three I might have a shot at having more good days than bad.

I just have to remember to choose to have a good day.

I don't understand

I have this friend who has been married to a man who abuses her for eight years. The manipulation, control and probably some verbal abuse started early, before they were even married. I don't think she fully realized what his behavior meant, but looking back she says she saw signs. About a year into their marriage, it got physical. I don't know even a fraction of what he's done to her, but I know enough. This guy is dangerous.

Several times she's talked about leaving. She usually ended up pregnant soon after thinking such things. They had three kids in just over three years, and there was a miscarriage in between the second and third. Each time she was pregnant she claims he treated her well and I think she allowed herself to believe that he would change; he would see the great mom she'd be and he'd treat her well. It never lasted.

Now things are bad again. Her youngest is 16 months, long enough that the pregnancy honeymoon period has clearly worn off. I don't know any details (although I suspect he may have started in on the kids - at least the older ones), but she took the step of telling her pastor at church. They're very involved in their church and this was a HUGE deal for her to confide in him. She's resisted the idea of telling her church for years, because she was afraid it would "make her husband look bad." For whatever reason, she's mustered the courage to reach out in this way and her pastor will be confronting her husband next Monday.

What I'm confounded over is her seeming obsession with keeping her marriage together. She emailed me today and said this may mean they have to be legally separated and that isn't what she wants - "not at all" were her words. WHY THE HELL NOT?

She told me recently that she's praying for the restoration of her marriage. I wanted to ask her "restoration to what?" When in their entire relationship has there been a time that is worth restoring to? He's always been a controlling, manipulative prick and honestly believes that there is nothing wrong with the way he treats her. Why does she want to stay married to this guy so badly?

I just don't understand. I've tried so hard to stick by her, be her friend regardless of whether I thought she was crazy, or wrong, or stupid. I've thought all those things, and now, in the face of giving him an ultamatum she's never dared before (the church will be telling him that she will have their blessing and help to leave if he won't get help and change his behavior), she's upset that they might be separated. I have no frame of reference for understanding her sentiment. Is it fear? Is it some misguided notion that she loves him? Does she simply believe all the horrible things he's said to her and doesn't think she deserves any better? Does she actually believe he'll change? Because I'm telling you, this is not the guy who feels bad about how he treats her. He believes from the core of his being that he has every right to treat her this way. He's said so on many occassions. So has his father.

I've tried hard not to be too judgmental. She's already lost friends over the years, people who couldn't understand why she'd stay and got sick of watching the horror show. I don't understand any more than they do, but I've stayed her friend - and I plan to still. But I just don't get it. I can't fathom why she is so desperate to hang on to this sham of a marriage. I wouldn't want to be a divorced, single mother any more than she does, but isn't that better than living under the thumb of someone who tries to control your every move, belittles you at every opportunity, and dosen't find anything wrong with slapping you around when there are dirty dishes left in the sink?

And how she can stand by and let this happen in front of her children downright infuriates me. She's never admitted that he's hurt them, but I suspect that he has. And even if he never turns a hand to them (which he will), he's doing these things to their mother right in front of them. He's teaching his sons how to treat women and teaching his daughter how men should treat her. I don't know how she can let that happen.

I just don't get it.

T-ball, etc.

Today was D's very first t-ball game! Watching a bunch of 4 year olds try to play t-ball is definitely one of the cutest things ever. They all looked so adorable in their purple shirts and black baseball hats - none of which fit any of them properly. The most they try to get them to do is have someone catch the ball when the other team hits, then throw it to first base. Even that was a stretch. The ball would roll past the first player then the rest of the team would run after it and nearly tackle each other trying to get to it. Then the chorus of "throw to first!" coming from the coaches and parents as the kid with the ball would look around wondering what to do.

On David's first hit he did great, running to first like they told him. But he apparently wasn't so sure where second base was because after the next hit, he went running off away from the baseline entirely. I think he saw a spot in the grass that looked like something was there, and he thought it was second base. It was seriously cute.

I'm completely exhausted from the day and G is sitting in his crib talking instead of napping, which means this afternoon is going to be rough. It does also mean that he'll go to bed early, which I can definitely live with. Gotta look on the bright side!

DH is currently on the road to California to pick up his dream car - we're buying him a 1968 Camaro, the car he has literally wanted since before I met him. And I've known him for 17 years. To say this is a dream come true is an understatement. But in the short term, it means I'm on my own with the boys this weekend, my house is already a complete disaster, G isn't napping, and I'm exhausted. The rest of the day is going to be interesting. Ordinarily I'd be thinking about where to take them to kill some time and get out of the house, but I don't think I can handle another outing. Between helping DH get ready for his road trip, getting us ready, packed up and to the t-ball game, and running around taking pictures at the game itself, I'm beat.

Being pregnant with two kids is tiring!

Sinking in

It's beginning to sink in that this baby is a girl. I still have that little worry in the back (and sometimes the front) of my mind that the ultrasound will prove to be wrong and we'll be surprised with a boy in about 4 months. But the chances of that aren't really *that* great, so I'm slowly but surely allowing myself to believe that we're having a daughter.

It chokes me up a little bit.

I've started buying a few things here and there - clothes, mostly. I have a good set of hand-me-downs coming from a friend, but of course I have to take advantage of having a girl for the first time and indulge in some pink. It took a lot to buy that first pink onesie. Again, there's that fear that I'm going to get all excited and into the idea of having a girl and be really disappointed if we were wrong. I think I'm probably going to carry that anxiety with me, at least a little bit, until she's born.

In any case, I went to the mall today and ended up buying several really cute things. I'm glad I've had babies before and know how I tend to like dressing a newborn/infant. There are so many outfits that are impractical and I know what types of things would end up hanging in the closet, looking darn cute on a hanger, but rarely get worn. But I did indulge in a couple of dresses that I think could be paired with some cotton pants if needed (which I also bought, in colors to match) and some onesies that say cute stuff like "Daddy's Girl." I doubt I'll bring myself to actually take any of the items out of their bags and risk losing receipts, just in case... but I have allowed myself to relax enough to enjoy some girlie shopping.

It's like a whole new world!

Too perfect?

From the moment I took that HPT right before Christmas, this pregnancy has seemed perfect. We got pregnant the instant we decided to stop birth control. We found out right at Christmas, which gave us such a great opportunity to share our news with family. I didn't need supplemental progesterone (did with the boys), all my tests have come back perfect and (at the risk of jinxing it) I'm not gaining weight as quickly. Timing wise, it's perfect because I'll get through most of the summer before baby is born, giving us lots of outside time without me having to worry about when the baby needs to sleep, nurse, be changed, etc. I'll be highly pregnant during our big family vacation this summer, but as long as things are going well, I will be able to go.

Could things get better?

We had an ultrasound yesterday. Baby looks great, measuring right on schedule with no indications of any problems whatsoever. She looks perfect. Yes, I said she.

Not only did we fail to see a penis, after a long wait while she had her legs both crossed and close together, we saw the telltale signs of girl parts. I kept thinking I was seeing girl, but the tech kept saying she couldn't see it yet, so I wasn't sure. Then we saw a great shot of her profile and my husband said, "That looks really feminine to me - not like the boys." Apparently he was right. I know ultrasounds are never 100% accurate at gender prediction, but when my dad asked the tech "are you sure?" she said, "Well, ultrasounds are never 100%, but this is a girl."

OMG!

I have to admit, I really wanted it to be a girl. I would have been really happy to have another boy, but a girl - well, it just makes everything so perfect. I'm almost afraid to believe it, not wanting to get my hopes so high and then find out the tech was wrong. I doubt it, but it certainly can happen. But as things stand, it looks like we're going to have a daughter.

This pregnancy has been so much more than I ever could have asked for. Could it really be this perfect? The perfect end to our fertility journey, the perfect addition to our family?

Apparently sometimes we do get THAT lucky.

The hazards of having a big boy

I've lamented more than once about the difficulties of having a baby/toddler who is big. G is a big boy. Not freakishly huge, but he's been above the 90th percentiles for height and weight since he was about 6 weeks old. He outgrew the baby bjorn so quickly I was glad I'd decided to buy a sling; it was the only way I could carry him around without killing my back and shoulders. And as he got older, he kept getting bigger! There are 2 1/2 years between my boys, yet for about the last year there has only been 4-5lbs between them. Yes, D is still the heavier one, but G keeps trying to close the gap.

Now I'm pregnant and G still wants to be picked up and carried, often up the stairs. I still have to lift him into his carseat. He weighs somewhere between 30-31lbs, which is certainly not the heaviest almost-2 year old, but he's heavy enough to make my back ache. Over the last few days I've been wondering why my back is starting to hurt and today made me realize exactly why - I still have to lift this brick of a kid.

Today was particularly tiring on my pregnant body. I'm not sure what it was; perhaps that every time I tried to sit down, one of them needed something. Perhaps it was the number of times we went up and down the stairs. Perhaps it was our trip to McDonald's for dinner (since Daddy is working late) and the amount of that time I had to spend on my feet, chasing after G in particular. But my back is so tired and I'm looking at a long night at the computer since I have work to catch up on. Ouch.

I need to keep doing yoga. And convince G to walk up the stairs on his own more often.

I love spring

On April 1st it snowed. It doesn't snow here every winter, let alone in April, so that was a surprise. There wasn't much, but it was super cold. At the gym a bunch of us were joking that our April Fool's Day joke was that spring had arrived - not so much!

By Saturday, spring decided to show.

We've had such great weather for the last several days and I was DYING for it. I expect March to be yucky around here, but even so, I've been craving sunshine and at least a little warmth. The last several days have been great. We've been outside in the backyard in t-shirts, the boys running around and getting nice and dirty. Last week I was feeling such cabin fever, so this burst of spring has been good for my soul.

Good times.

Feeling cold

I think the biggest difference between this pregnancy and my previous two is that, not only am I not roasting hot all the time, I'm actually cold.

With D, I was a furnace - especially my feet. My feet were so hot I quite literally wore flip flops and sandals until after he was born... and he was born in December. I remember the people I worked with thinking I was crazy for coming to work in my sandals, but my feet were so hot, I couldn't stand to wear full shoes, let alone socks.

With G it wasn't nearly as intense, but I was still warmer most of the time. I bought one maternity sweater because I thought it was too cute to pass up (he was born in May, so I was pg through the winter), but I think I only wore it a couple of times because I was always too warm for it.

This time, I'm actually cold sometimes. I've been wearing socks at home all the time because my feet feel chilly. It's particularly strange because since having my boys, I've felt like my body stayed hotter, even once my pregnancies were over. I have this stack of old sweaters I used to wear to work in the winter and I haven't touched them - and not because I don't have to dress up for work now, but because I couldn't fathom wearing a sweater without dying of heat stroke! But here I am, pregnant and expecting to feel warmer still, and I'm curling up in blankets on the couch and wearing socks with slippers over the top! It isn't as if the temperature in my house has changed - for whatever reason, I'm just feeling cooler this time.

Other than that, I can't point to anything that is starkly new or different with this pregnancy, at least at this point. My first two pregnancies felt like polar opposites (which is ironic, because my boys personalities are completely opposite). If I had a symptom with D, I probably didn't with G; if I didn't have a symptom with D, I probably did with G. Not entirely true, but in many ways that's how it felt. I was totally convinced I was not pregnant with G because I figured I'd feel the same way I felt in early pregnancy the first time - and I sure didn't. But this time, some of it is familiar, some not as much (like being cold), but it doesn't feel so dramatically different from my other two experiences.

I had a doctor appointment this morning (I'll be 18 weeks tomorrow) and so far all is well. My blood pressure was almost low (but still fine), our results from the quad screen came back normal, baby's heart rate was 154. I also haven't gained too much weight at this point, which is nice. I'm up 10lbs or so, which is great for this point in my pregnancy. I think I gained more than that during the first 12 weeks with both my previous pregnancies, so I hope that's a good sign. I'd love to gain a more reasonable amount of weight this time around. But I am proud to say I haven't been stressing about it - just trying to keep from overeating. I've realized that I don't have to eat every single time I get a little hungry - it's ok to be a bit hungry between meals/snacks because I know I'll eat again soon and I know I'm eating plenty.

In any case, so far so good, and that makes me happy!

Freaky

There is a person growing inside me right this second. That still freaks me out.

I'm a bit over 16 weeks... noticing occassional pokes from the stinker, feeling good overall, getting bigger everyday with tons of time left to grow. Time is flying by; March is almost over already and it seems as if it just began. If it's possible, I think this pregnancy is going by faster than my last one did, and that one seemed to fly. In some ways it feels as if September is a long way off, but in other ways I feel like I can't believe I'm closing in on 17 weeks in a few days.

Its kind of freaking me out.

Maternity swimsuits

Why is it that so many maternity clothes manufacturers seem to forget the fact that the belly is not the only thing that grows during pregnancy? And that us busty women might want to wear clothes that fit too?

Maternity swimsuits are the WORST.

I have a maternity swimsuit that I bought last time I was pregnant. I suffered with it because I'd bought it and couldn't justify buying another one. Why I didn't send it back the instant I tried it on, I have no idea - maybe I figured it wasn't that bad or I could make it work and didn't want the hassle of returning something I'd bought online. Whatever my reasoning at the time, I have a swimsuit from Old Navy that absolutely does not fit my chest - AT ALL. I don't think this thing would fit anyone with a cup size larger than a B. And believe me, I'm nowhere near a B. Finding a good fit is tough because I'm not big all over, but I have big boobs and when I'm pregnant I have really big boobs. So this halter thingy is a disaster. It's a tankini, and the bottoms fit fine, but the top has this seam that is supposed to go under the bust line. Laughable. If I put it on the way it is intended to be worn my boobs fall out of it as soon as I move a little. Obviously not great for taking the kids to swim lessons at the YMCA.

I love to swim and I really love to swim when I'm pregnant, so I definitely need a swimsuit. Today I tried on the crazy small-boobed halter thing and it was worse than I remembered. When I was pregnant with G, I wore it, but pulled it up so it covered better. But it was so uncomfortable I often wore a bra underneath just so I didn't feel like I was going to fall completely out of the thing - and that's attractive. And when you're underwater it tends to float up (or did until my belly was really big) so I always felt like it was floating up around my neck and my boobs were hanging out the bottom.

So now I'm on a quest to find a decent fitting maternity swimsuit to get me through this pregnancy. Quest is really an appropriate term, because this ain't easy.

There are tons of suits out there, but many (most?) of them are ridiculously expensive. I've looked at some really cute suits online, but there's no way I'm paying over $100 for a swimsuit that I'm going to wear this year, and this year only. If I was pregnant for the first time and knew I'd be having a couple more kids after this, it might make sense to invest in a high quality swimsuit. But I wasn't a swimmer when I was pregnant the first time, so I didn't get a suit. And the second time I cheaped out with the Old Navy one and should have at least found one that fit better, even if I didn't spend more money. So here I am.

And judging from the pictures online, fit is going to be a problem. I can see how women with small boobs would be loving their newfound voluptuousness and be happy to show it off a little. But showing off a nice chest and flashing the world enough boob to make Jennifer Lopez blush are two different things. So many of the swimsuits I've seen are similar to the one I have - a halter top that ties in the back, has no support whatsoever and doesn't have enough fabric in the front to cover one of my boobs, let alone both of them.

And you'd think more maternity stores might actually carry one or two swimsuits in stock, even though it isn't summer, right? I mean, we have indoor pools and I certainly see plenty of pregnant women at the Y who bring their kids to swim lessons. That can happen in winter, right? But I haven't seen any in stores. Granted, I live in smaller community so the shopping options are limited, and I do need to call a couple stores that aren't too far but farther than I'd want to go without knowing if they have anything... but the point is, I'm afraid I'm going to have to buy online and given my experience with that last time, I really want to be able to try these things on.

Dressing yourself when you're pregnant can be frustrating in general and I hate every dollar I have to spend on maternity clothes, since I know how temporary this is and I know I'm not planning to do it again. I don't want to invest much in clothes I'm going to be out of come fall. But I also have to wear something every day, and I know I need a new swimsuit. I want to get back in the pool for some laps, I want to be able to take G to swimming if it works with our schedule, and we're going on vacation this summer where it will be warm. I just wish I could find one that wasn't ugly (although color and pattern at this point are secondary concerns), didn't cost a fortune, and miracle of miracles, actually fits my chest.

Is that really too much to ask?

Running a race

I ran the St. Patrick's Day Dash today. This year it was a 3.7 mile course through the city. And when I say "ran" I mean "participated" - I ran some, but probably walked more. Hey, I am over 15 weeks pregnant, after all :).

The weather was almost as bad as it could be. Not quite, because it wasn't too windy, but it was snowing/slushing when we got there and that turned to heavy rain by the time our wave started. It was cooooooold and we were soaking wet. But despite that, it was still really fun. I've done this race before and it's a blast. People get all dressed up in crazy hats and costumes - very festive event.

The amazing thing is that my husband did it with me. That is something else because my husband does not run. I've tried to get him to run with me for ages, even just as a workout and he always professes to HATE running. He bases this off his memories of high school football workouts and the time he ran 5 miles around the track for some fundraiser thing. Yeah, running lines in football practice and running around a track for a million years are exactly like running in a cool St. Patrick's Day race. Sure.

He's mentioned things about running in the last couple of months and I had a feeling I might be getting to him. A few weeks ago we were talking about this race and I told him my goal was to have him do it with me next year - I could use it to get back into running shape after the baby and he could use it to get into running shape period. He said, hey, I'll do it this year! So I assumed he was serious and signed him up :).

After a lot of "what was I thinking?" talk this past week, we actually drove up there and went for it - horrible weather and all. I'm not in a position to run that distance anymore - my belly is big for 15 weeks and there's way too much pressure on my bladder (and I started the race needing to pee, which of course made it worse). And he hasn't run any distance since, well, those high school football practices. He has been working out regularly for quite some time now and has lost over 30lbs (woo hoo honey!), but he's not in running shape so he wasn't sure what to expect. We stuck together and ran for a while in the beginning and then walked most of the middle - most of the distance, really. We ran again at the end to finish strong. Through it all we had a good time chatting as we went, talking about things like running shoes, shin splints, our kids, our summer plans and how much fun it would be to do a race together if we were both in a position to run the whole thing.

The fact that the two of us pinned on race numbers together today is stunning. So many things have happened in the last few months that I never would have thought possible, but wanted so badly, and this was one of them. I love doing races and I love the idea of us doing them together sometimes - bringing the kids along when it works, having them join us when they're older. I love the idea of being that active family that looks forward to these kinds of events and is in the kind of shape to do them. For the first time, I can actually see the possibility of that idea being a reality for us. And that rocks.

My SIL came along and ran it too and she was a total rockstar. She ran the whole thing, hills and all, and made pretty good time too. She's never run that far before and was pretty nervous, but I think she learned something valuable about herself today - the same thing I learned when I started doing races. She learned what's possible, what she can accomplish if she pushes herself a little. That's a great lesson to learn and I was so thrilled to hear her say on the way home, "Gotta find out when the next one is!"

I'm so glad we went today, despite being wet and freezing. It was a cool moment for me and my husband and I'm still so amazed at how many of those we've been having lately.

Good times.

Chinese gender prediction

Has anyone else noticed that the Chinese gender prediction chart is a lot more complicated that it seems? Not that I put any stock in such things, but they're fun anyway. While I should be putting away laundry right now, I've been trying to see if the Chinese chart was accurate for my boys, and see what it says about this baby. You'd think that would be easy, right? Match my age at conception with month of conception and there you go. Not quite.

One site I found says you're supposed to use your lunar age and the lunar month of conception - basically using the Chinese calendar. Ok, makes sense since one would assume that the chart is probably based on the calendar they actually used, so I went about finding a site to calculate those things (they had a link, but it didn't work). But other sites don't mention the need to convert your age or the month to lunar, so is it necessary or not? I really have no idea.

Using my real age at conception and the real month of conception (not converting either to the Chinese calendar), the chart is actually accurate - it predicted boy for both D and G, and predicts a boy this time. I'll buy that for a dollar ;). But aren't you supposed to use lunar dates, hence using the actual Chinese calendar?

If you use my lunar age and the Chinese month, it predicts boy for D, girl for G and girl for this baby. Hmmmm. 50/50 for my boys, and obviously the result remains to be seen for this baby.

And, just for fun, if you use my lunar age but the real month, it gives girl for D, girl for G and boy for this baby. I doubt that one was right ;).

So based on my very scientific calculations and a 700 year old chart found with a dead guy in China, I'm either having a boy, or a girl. Gotta love gender prediction!

Strange conversation and random thoughts

I found myself having such a strange conversation with my husband today. He was completely kidding, but he said something about "what if we decide to have four kids," and "hey, if this is another boy, maybe we should try one more time." I knew he must be kidding, and he was, but it was so strange what those comments did to my state of mind. I'm already struggling with the concept of being done having kids - not because I think I'll want more or because I'll miss having a baby around or because we would actually try again for a girl. I think it's because we'll be closing a chapter of our lives for good (assuming we do something permanent about it, which we're discussing). I'm going to be ready for that chapter to end - ready to have my body back for good, not just for a couple of years; ready to lose the weight, get in shape and stay that way. I'll be ready for our family to start growing up, moving out of diapers and naps and nursing.

I already worry a bit about how I'm going to juggle the needs and schedules of an active four-almost-five-year-old, a two year old and a newborn baby. D will have preschool 3 mornings a week and at some point we'll want to go back to having some other activities for both boys like gymnastics, toddler gym and swimming (not all at once, but those are the usual classes they like). I'll want to get back to my regular workout schedule, but suddenly I'm not only juggling two kids, but three - and this one is going to need a zillion naps, nursing sessions and who knows what else. The thought of going back to having a tiny baby again after this one - yikes.

But when he said that, it still made me pause. Hmm, what if? It took mere seconds before reality came flooding back and we both laughed - noooooooooo, we don't want four! But for a split second, I wondered if he'd been serious, could he talk me into it? Probably not, but it surprised me that there was this part of me deep down inside that didn't shout "NO!" Most of me did, but that tiny part...

Not that I'm saying I want to have another after this baby. When I was pg with G there were times that I wondered if it would be my last pregnancy. We hadn't fully decided on whether to have two or three and I spent some time exploring my feelings about whether it should be the last time. There were moments when I felt it would be ok if we only had two, if that had been my last pregnancy experience. But more often I felt that I wanted to do it again. This time not so much. I'm so grateful to be pregnant, and don't have anything to complain about, but at the same time, I'm happy that this is my last. It feels great to know that things are in motion and when this baby is here, we can move on from our trying-and-having-baby years.

It also makes me want to enjoy this experience as much as possible. I already feel like its flying by and I'm afraid I'll be too busy to notice. I'm going to wake up one day and realize I'm as big as a house and really ought to pack my hospital bag. Hopefully I can slow down enough to enjoy the ride till then.

Feeling pregnant

I'm genuinely feeling pregnant these days, and not just from nausea and fatigue. My belly isn't "big" yet at all - but it has reached the point of being big enough that I'm noticing it. I'm sure the casual observer wouldn't realize I'm pregnant, or might wonder a bit but not dare ask for fear of being wrong. But I feel like I grew outward about an inch today. Nothing really fits - maternity clothes are too big, but my regular clothes don't fit either. It's a fun stage - sarcasm intended ;).

I may be feeling the slightest bits of movement. Hard to say, since it is quite early for that (just over 14 weeks), but I did feel D distinctly at about 16 weeks and G probably at that time or a touch earlier. So it isn't impossible. I certainly know what it feels like. But it also might still just be little intestinal twitches or air bubbles. What makes me think it could be baby is that I feel these little flutters particularly when I squish my belly in some way - like bending over or if I press on my lower abdomen with my hands. I think I might be feeling baby push back.

We heard the heartbeat for the first time last Tuesday. Wow, that's a great sound. Hearing that brought it home in a whole new way that yes, I'm actually pregnant. We're doing this again! My doctor found the heartbeat instantly - literally, doppler hit belly and sound emerged. It took him a little bit to get a good reading on the actual rate, which turned out to be 152bpm, since we were hearing my heartbeat some and he said the baby seemed to be moving around a lot.

I can't help but wonder what this baby is going to be like and I find myself thinking about the traits we saw in the boys while I was pg with each of them that seemed to carry foward into their time outside the womb. D was a kicker and a firecracker from the start. He was always moving and heck, he still is. I remember the tech at our 20 week ultrasound had trouble getting measurements because he was so active. G, on the other hand, was mellow-yellow. He did move plenty, but at our ultrasound he seemed so chill, almost like he was lying there with his head cuddled up against the placenta. He's a monster toddler right now, but he still has this underlying mellowness to his personality that I swear I could see before he was even born.

I keep telling my husband that this is going to be our "Ta da!" baby. More than once I've said I feel like this baby was knocking on our door for months before we conceived. The subject of when to try kept coming up over and over and then we finally did decide to go off birth control, and BAM! we were pregnant. It happened so fast, it feels like this baby was waiting and saying, "Come on guys, I'm ready to come into the world, let's get this started!" I knew I was pregnant so much earlier than I knew with my boys, I tested earlier than I did with them, we found the heartbeat instantly the very first try, and things seem to be moving so quickly. I'm showing earlier (which is of course because its my third, but still), and baby seems determined to keep his or herself top of mind for me.

It makes me wonder if I'm going to need to rush to the hospital because baby's trying to make a grand entrance, LOL!

We'll see how the next six-ish months go. For now, I'm feeling pretty good, trying very hard not to stress over the gender (I'm geniunely having boy feelings, for the record) and trying to decide what I need to add to my maternity wardrobe, if anything. I'll need a few things, since I'll be so pregnant during the summer, but I'm not motivated to spend a whole lot of money since I'm not planning to do this again.

In any case, time is flying and in no time I'll be out of the dreaded "looking fat, not pregnant" stage :).

Hard on a Friday night

Man it's hard to work on a Friday night. In order to reasonably keep up with the projects I have, I should really work 4 or 5 nights a week - these days 5 or 6, really. I've been quite busy, which is good because goodness knows we need the money. Having this baby isn't going to be cheap. In any case, right now I have stuff going on Monday and Thursday nights, so I really can't afford to take tonight "off", yet I'm having an extraordinarily difficult time simply changing over to my work computer. It just feels wrong somehow to have to work at 8:00 at night on a Friday. I guess I spent enough years with an 8-5, M-F schedule I just want to be DONE with responsibilities on Friday nights - even if for just a short while.

Things I do not need to hear again today.

"I can totally tell I'm still fighting off that cold," said by my husband with an air of "feel sorry for me, I'm so sick."

I've been so sick this week I can barely function. I've had a horrible cold that turned into a raging sinus infection. I feel like I've been hit in the face with a 2x4 and each and every day this week he's complained that he's "fighting something".

"I'm about to pass out, I'm so tired I can't stay awake," said by my husband when it was time for the boys to go to bed - possibly implying he didn't want to help with bedtime? Not sure on that one.

I haven't had a good night sleep in two weeks, between both boys being sick last week and me being sick all this week. It's pretty hard to sleep when you can't breathe out of your nose, your throat hurts from being dry and your head is so stuffed and painful that it hurts to the touch.

I get that he didn't get a good night sleep last night and of course that sucks. But as sick as he is of hearing me complain about how bad I feel, I'm doubly sick of hearing him talk about how he ALMOST has the cold I have. Good for you buddy, you can pump your nonpregnant body with all the vitamin C and airborne you want, sleep all night because you can BREATHE, and IF you do get sick, you can take any medicine you want, plus take time off work, stay home and shut out the world for two days while you sleep it off and get better. I CAN'T FREAKING GET BETTER.

I'm sick of complaining about it too, but seriously I haven't been in this much pain in a long time; probably since the last time I had a sinus infection a couple of years ago. This HURTS and it's all I can do to survive the day because I CAN'T CALL IN SICK. My husband and sister in law have been doing what they can to help me, and I appreciate it very, very much. But the bottom line is, these kids are still my responsiblity and if I'm sick, I just have to tough it out most of the time. Yes, my SIL took the boys for a couple of hours yesterday which was AWESOME. But I'm still sick as hell and if the antibiotics don't kick in soon, I'm going to lose it.

Being sick while you're pregnant is a special kind of torture. There was a time I didn't think there was anything much worse than that. But being sick while pregnant AND chasing around two very active, very energetic little boys is actually worse.

I'm sick of complaining.

Sick kids are the WORST

Saturday G had a tummy bug that had him throwing up about every hour from around 5pm until 3am. Sunday he acted like nothing had happened, except he didn't really eat anything all day. That same day, D started mysteriously running a fever and was rather unhappy about it. Some motrin perked him right up and by Monday, they both seemed healthy and fine.

Fast forward to last night and G was the one with the fever. At first I had wondered if they both had the same virus over the weekend, just reacted to it differently - G with vomiting, D with a fever. Now I'm thinking that G had a tummy bug, D had a fever bug (for lack of a better term, since he didn't have other symptoms) and now G has the fever bug.

Unfortunately, G with a fever means he won't sleep. At all. I was up most of the night with him, trying to get him to stay asleep for more than half an hour. I rocked him, cuddled him, tried to just sleep in the chair with him, but even that didn't keep him asleep for long. I tried taking him to our bed, but that didn't work any better. He just tossed and turned and cried and wanted to be "all done" - with trying to sleep or being in our bed, I'm not sure. I think we both slept for a solid couple of hours in the wee hours of the morning, but that was about it.

He was a complete zombie today. He's normally so active, today was bizarre. He barely moved most of the day, wanting to sit in my lap and do nothing. He drank plenty of fluids, but didn't eat more than a few bites. And true to form, in that he seems to be the polar opposite of his brother, he HATES taking medicine of any kind (D would take any medicine every day if I let him). Come nap time I figured he'd crash completely and hoped he'd sleep at least a solid couple of hours. Not so. Although he was so tired, he was falling asleep on the couch in my arms, he only slept for about 30 minutes in his crib. I rocked him back to sleep and just held him, hoping I could get him to stay asleep for a decent amount of time if I held him - with no luck. About 35 minutes later, he was awake again, squirming and tossing and miserable - and unable to sleep more.

I put him to bed ridiculously early because he was falling asleep on me again. He slept 45 minutes, and was up again. This does not bode well for the rest of the night. I guess I should be happy he's sleeping now, specifically sleeping without being ON me, but I have a feeling I'm going to spend an awful lot of time in that damn chair tonight.

As if I needed more to make me jittery, D threw up all over the back of the couch after dinner. I *think* at this point it was a fluke - he was coughing a lot and might have gagged himself. But that's exactly how G's tummy bug started; a random vomit with no warning. So far he hasn't done it again and insists his tummy feels fine. We'll see. He is for sure getting the cold my SIL has had for about a week and a half (hence the coughing), so unfortunately, he IS getting sick. But I'll take the cold over vomit.

I'm desperate for a decent night's sleep, but G is far more desperate than I am. I seriously don't know what I'm going to do if he won't sleep tonight - and I don't really think he will...