sueeeus

I’m about ten pounds less than my pre-pregnancy weight, which is nice, but still nowhere near any sort of ideal range.  And when I look in the mirror, I’d think I’d be happy that I’ve lost some weight, but what I see reflected back is so shockingly unattractive.  And then I stumbled across this site, the shape of a mother, and it helps me feel better.

I was thinking about the well-intended comments from the well-intended doctors about the need to lose weight, and how irksome I find it, as though it never occurred to me that I might be heavy and that it might have health ramifications at some point in life.  No, I didn’t notice that I was obese.  I missed that one.

At least my own ob/gyn isn’t making mention of it.  He’s been my doctor for fifteen years or so, through the whole fertility challenge, the pregnancies, the miscarriages, both cases of GD and both deliveries.  He probably said something at some point, but he doesn’t keep repeating things, and I appreciate that.

Part of me has been thinking that maybe this time will be the time — that my life is in a place where all the pieces are fitting together — I have my family, two beautiful boys!  I have a good job, good health insurance coverage, good retirement/pension prospects, a stable home, and I live in a mostly decent neighborhood (apart from one set of troublesome neighbors).

This may be the time when emotionally I’m ready to tackle my self.  And possibly it won’t be that hard.  That is my hope.

I’ve been wondering about what might be the best exercise choice for me.  I still don’t have all that much energy, at this point, three weeks post-partum.  My belly still hurts and has alot of numb and tingly spots that ache much much more if/when I get constipated.  Supposedly this new pain is due to the abdominal wall as things are shrinking their way back to normal. Apparently my uterus and all things female are okay, which is goodness.

I think I’ll start doing my wii Dance Dance Revolution again.  That was fun and got me sweating nicely, so surely it must have been a reasonable amount of exercise.  I can also walk, but why is it that the thought of getting dressed and going outside seems overwhelming?  It feels so nice to be outside, once there, but the getting there is the hurdle.  I can rejoin the gym, but not for at least a couple more months, and if I do, I will want to go enroute to or from the office, so I don’t have to wrangle the kids.  That will mean that I absolutely will have to count on Gadget to be there for daycare pickup.  And here I am, only three weeks into my LB’s life, and thinking about daycare.  I ought to just be thinking of the moment, which is sleep, pump, feed, wash bottles, sleep, pump, feed, wash bottles.

This baby time is so fleeting.  I absolutely must savor every moment.  And try not to think about body image for a while.

So far I don’t have any signs of post partum depression.  Last time I had a short-lived phase in which I didn’t want to see or speak to anybody, not even those closest to me.  While part of me wanted to call and share the good news, another part of me just couldn’t bear to pick up the phone.

This time, I’m emotional, but I think that goes with the territory, regardless.  And today, my beautiful boy was circumcised, and I’m a wreck because of it.  I couldn’t be in the room when they did it, and I could barely stand to look at the dressing when it was done, and when it was time for the first post-op diaper change and the removal of the dressing, I had to turn the job over to Gadget, while I sat across the room and sobbed.  Circumcision is a controversial subject, and I don’t really want to get into that.  We had decided to have it done with BB, so we followed suit with LB.  Only, I don’t remember it being so traumatic with BB.  His was done when he was only a day old, in hospital, and possibly it wasn’t traumatic because the nursing staff took care of the initial dressings and post-op care.  This time, with insurance and hospital policy changes, we were advised not to have it done while in hospital, but to do it at the ob/gyn’s office within the first two weeks of life.  Today was the first available appointment, and today LB was two weeks old.  I think I was also told that having it done in the first days of life could have a slight impact on the nursing scenario, and because I’ve been struggling with that, I didn’t push the issue to have it done in hospital.

After Gadget finished removing the dressing and applying the neosporin, I held my precious boy and sobbed, all the while thinking that my freak out sobbing is not helping anything whatsoever.  And it thoroughly distresses BB to see his mother cry.  LB seems to be weathering this well.  He was calm after the diaper change, and fed well, and is sleeping well.  My little love.  Now, to gather my courage and collect my wits so that I will be able to tend to the healing properly, by pulling the skin gently to expose the ridge, and applying the neosporin liberally.  Sigh.  Why is it so difficult for me this time?

Meanwhile, I told my doctor that my own healing process seems much more painful than last time, which he said was unusual, because repeat c-sections are generally weathered better than the original.  I was able to get a prescription renewal for some more percoset, which I will use sparingly, and hoard for future migraines, should they materialize.  When I’m hit, there’s no way I’ll drag myself to a doctor, so no chance of acquiring any medication to alleviate the pain.  This way, I have options.  The problem with percoset and pain is sort of a catch 22 in that I suspect a great deal of the pain I’m experiencing is intestinal in nature, and percoset has constipation as a side effect.  To take it or not to take it, that is the question.  The thing is, this constipation, if that is what it is, is far and beyond anything that I’ve heretofore experienced, and I’m no stranger to the condition.  I wonder if I’ve actually been impacted.  I watched my belly grow and harden over the course of a few days, and the pain increased until I could barely walk, and finally decided that if it was, indeed, intestinal, that the colace wasn’t cutting it and it was time for some senna.  Even so, it took quite some time for the senna to do anything, and when it did, it was incredibly painful.  But the swelling began to subside and the hardness of my belly diminished.  I continued taking the senna, and every two or three days something would happen, so to speak, and the hardness seemed to drop with each passing.  So it would seem that as things work their way out, the pain in my gut is working its way down.  However, the act of passing is dreadful and painful and nigh on impossible, at times, leaving me sweating, sobbing, and bleeding.  I resort to a pain killer to help work through the pain, but does this very same pain killer actually prolong the condition?  What to do, what to do.  I’ve been drinking loads of water.  Loads.  I’m pumping around the clock, and drink a full 20oz jug of water during each pumping session.  Surely I’m getting enough water.  Tomorrow’s strategy includes incorporating prunes and apricots, and maybe forgoing the pain killers.

I will be glad when this part of the healing process is complete.

This is all I had to show after a span of six hours.  Pathetic.  Things are improving.  They’ve gone from dismal to less dismal, but still pathetic.  Life in two hour increments was killing me.  It takes a full one of those hours to pump, decant, clean, feed, diaper, and burp, leaving the other hour to use the bathroom, sleep, shower, attend to the other child, etc etc etc.  So I switched to three hour compartments.  It’s so liberating!  That extra hour is pure wealth, and I can actually get reasonable naps in here and there.  I even made banana bread today, with such an abundance of time on my hands.

I’m the luckiest mom ever, because LB is the best baby.  He’s so content, except when diapering.  He has the biggest, brightest eyes, when they’re open.

He’s so laid back.  When he’s awake, he just kicks back and looks around, calm and content as can be. (Yes, I know the pictures are blurry; I thought they were in focus when I took them, but I’m living life in a blur right now, so what do I really know?)

BB, on the other hand, is proving to be quite a challenge, with the adjustments of late.  He’s a love, really, but his one year old cousin is here all week, and sharing attention and toys and life in general with so many others is a difficult thing for a three year old. I think he will do better when it’s back to just the four of us.  Even so, he does need to learn how to behave and obey, regardless of how many other people are here.  I let him pretend he was a baby last night, and snuggled him in my lap and spoon fed him his lunch, then tucked him in for a nap, and stroked his face and talked to him, telling him that’s what I used to do when he was a baby.  He really liked that moment of attention, and took a nice, long, refreshing nap.  It was very good for him, to get some rest.

I simply do not know how mothers of more than two can function.

The apple of my eye.

Born 12:51 p.m. on 27 Aug 2008

10lbs 6oz at 38 weeks

We are well!

More to come…

I’m ready.  I’m NOT ready!  This is THE DAY.  The end of this journey and the beginning of the next.  The journey in which LB joins our family at last.

I’m not sure I can articulate my feelings, but I think it’s important that I try.  How can I begin to express my gratitude that I’ve been blessed to be a mother, twice over?  Two boys.  The mother of two beautiful boys.

There’s such a difference, from the baby leaving my body and coming out into the world.  The sheer sense of responsibility is almost overwhelming.  I know what it’s like, having been down this road with BB.  All the same.  Today, life will be much different.

Possibly some of this is the knowledge that this may truly be the end of this journey for me, that I will never be pregnant again, never carry another child, never bring a daughter into this world.

I don’t think I honestly want more than two — my body is not young, and there is much effort in raising children well.

Only a few hours more and our family of three becomes a family of four.  I suppose I am a bit terrified of what lies ahead, but for no good reason.  BB is nothing but a joy and delight.

A family of four!  How can it be anything but beautiful?!

I think perhaps the trepidation is merely that fear of change, of leaving one’s comfort zone and becoming accustomed to a new reality.

In a way, it’s like that feeling you get when you’re on a roller coaster, when you’re strapped in to the seat, motoring ever so slowly towards the peak, wondering to yourself why on earth you decided to get on this ride, and knowing that there’s no turning back and you absolutely must and will face the inevitable, that very, very soon you will be plummeting over the edge.  And as you drop, your fears crash through your stomach as you hurtle down, down, downward.  And then it’s over, and you’ve survived, and all is well.  (And sometimes you run right back, to queue for another go!)

So today, I’m nearing the precipice in this roller coaster seat, and the tension is rising in my throat.  In but a few hours, the drop.  And then it will all be over.  I will hold my precious new son in my arms, put him to my breast, and love him fiercely until the day I die.

A mother.  Again.  The dream of all my dreams, coming true.  How blessed I am.  How absolutely and completely blessed.

LB, my LB.  My dear, sweet LB.

LB and BB.  My boys.  My sons.

I am a mother.

So blessed.

A great spill marked the beginning of this pregnancy.  There have been pregnancies along the way in which clumsiness was one of the giveaway signs, even before I knew.  So it was this time.  I was painting my office and spilled the paint all over the carpet.  It was a colossal mess.  I remember joking to Gadget that it must mean I’m pregnant.  Not really believing it, since I’d taken a long expired round of Clomid, this being my last hurrah, and not expecting the drug to do much, if anything.  I took a test, anyway, which I think also happened to be the last of my test strips (having bought in bulk, and resigned myself to the fact that this was the last hurrah, not planning to buy any more…)

…and lo and behold, a positive.  So the story began.

Today, as we near the end of this pregnancy, indeed, this being the last full day, a great spill has again marked the occasion.  Clumsy, yes.  Because I keep forgetting just how much room this long load in front of me requires.  A full cup of tea (prepared nearly to Stomper Girl’s specifications, by the way, apart from the order of adding the milk, and the absence of sugar), spilled and splashed all over my desk.  My desk that is laden, mind you, with my work laptop, my home laptop, my docking station, keyboard, monitor, and two wireless mouse devices.  Tea.  Everywhere.  And of course I’m no speedster, so it took a few long moments to fetch towels from the kitchen.

I think I fried my personal laptop bluetooth mouse.  I only hope that I did no harm to either of the laptops.  They seem to be functioning, apart from the mouse situation.

Yesterday’s bout of contractions hasn’t repeated itself, thank goodness.  There are occasional contractions, but not hours of regularly spaced ones.  Which is a relief.  Heartburn remains, along with bouts of either extreme hunger or lack of appetite.  How strange for it to swing like that.  Only one full dose of insulin tonight, and a half dose in the morning, and hopefully that will be the end of the injections.

This time tomorrow I’ll be snuggling a beautiful little boy.  It’s hard to fathom.  Truly.

Wowsers, that’s a lot of flesh and unfriendly bulge for internet photos.  Very brave.  Or stupid.  (Edited to post a more flattering picture.)  I just want to capture this time, if possible, so I’ve been trying to take some final pictures of this immense belly, but it’s hard with poor lighting and just a mirror.  The thing is, Gadget, bless his beautiful heart, can’t focus to save his life (neither can I, apparently), and I’m not a very good artistic director, and I’d rather keep the peace at this point in life and marriage.

This morning I had the amnio.  It took three people!  The technologist used the ultrasound to find the best spot, my doctor readied the needles, and another doctor held another ultrasound wand/needle guide thing.  It was quite an impressive effort, to capture that precious fluid.  The thing is, once they found the spot and my doctor gave me the lidocaine shot to numb the spot in preparation for the big needle, LB moved.  Stinker!  So they had to start again.  Then he gave me another lidocaine shot, and LB moved again, plus, there was a problem with the big needle, so he had to get another one, and then they didn’t have another one in the room, so had to go find another kit.  In the mean time, guess who moved?  So finally, they got the big needle in, and it hurt, as it would, since it penetrated the uterus and caused some discomfort.  Then they couldn’t see the needle on the ultrasound, so they had to poke further, which pinched more.  But they quickly acquired the fluid they needed, and rushed it off via courier to the University hospital where they do the fluorescence check.  Meanwhile, I went to triage for non-stress-testing and observation, during which time I had several contractions, and LB did gymnastics.  As he does.  I was cleared to leave after an hour or so.  All in all, I was gone three hours for this, and not long after I arrived home, my doctor called to report that the numbers are good, LB’s lungs are mature enough for delivery, and all systems are go for Wednesday.

Woohoo!!

I finished my work day, then realized that I’ve been having regular contractions.  Off to Doctor Google I scurried, to find out whether I should be alarmed or not.  I’ve never had regular contractions during 3rd trimester, so don’t know what to expect.  BB never dropped, nor gave any indication that he was interested in leaving his watery world.  But LB.  Oh, my LB.  He is riding low and pressuring me, and causing me to feel the need to, er, empty my instestines.  Plus contracting every 5 minutes.  Luckily, Doctor Google advises that unless the contractions last 60 seconds or longer, then there’s no need to scurry to the hospital.  Mine are about 20-30 seconds.

It would appear that these are the famed Braxton Hicks that I’ve heard so much about but never experienced.  At least, that is my hope.  Because I really just want to go to the hospital at the prescribed time on the prescribed day per the prescribed plan, because I like my schedules and plans.  I like that kind of order in my universe.

Nevertheless, the bags are ready, and the last work items that I have left can be left if need be.  I can log in and set up my official out of office messages, and that will only take a few minutes.  I’ve got them all prepped and ready to go.

Luckily, and with a great sense of relief, the wave of contractions seems to have subsided, so I may be fine.  It’s just a bit alarming, thinking that this baby might be ready before I am!

I did a wild and adventurous thing (for me) early this year, and traveled across the globe to Australia, to see dear friends, and meet new ones face to face. All in the first trimester. I’ve spent quite some time in first trimester, and have only gone beyond it twice.

I tried to remain hopeful and positive and not allow stress and worry to take too much hold, and I allowed myself to buy something for the baby. A kit for a beautiful hand-felted rainbow woolen dragon. Months passed, the pregnancy progressed, and all along I intended to make the dragon. I made other dragons. Even one for the baby. But not the dragon. Until now.

And now that it’s finished, I think that it is more for me, than for the baby. It symbolizes this journey, from beginning to end, and that we have made it! That we are ready! I dared to hope and my dreams have come true. I am about to be the mother of two. Two beautiful boys. Two beautiful children. Two amazing people whose mere being adds much joy and love to this earth.

For perspective. It’s a wee little dragon, this. BB is snuggled next to me as I write, and says, “That’s my dragon, and that’s your dragon!” He’s been such a love lately, and I’ve been trying to snuggle and nuzzle and spend time with him as much as possible, hoping to fill him with security in knowing how important he is to me, and that even though priorities will soon change with LB’s arrival, there is enough Mommy and enough LOVE to share all around (even though it may seem that LB will be getting most of the attention for a while).

I may yet write a letter to LB, before he’s born. I want to tell him about our journey. His journey. I want him to know how much he is wanted, and how blessed we are to have him, how our family is that much more beautiful, because of him.

• I’ve gained 17 pounds during this pregnancy. I like that LB has managed to gobble up some of my fat stores.
• My belly cast was a miserable failure. It was going well and looking sweet, and I was getting excited about how neat it was going to be, but there was a problem with gravity, boobs, and the drying process, and the fact that I was doing this alone didn’t help. I made a colossal mess of the bathroom, and left it for my dear cleaning girl to take care of. How opportune. There is more material and I can try it again, but I’m leaning towards capturing the art form photographically instead. I did take a picture of me wrapped in Glad Press-N-Seal, but won’t be sharing that, thank you. And, much as it was recommended as a good barrier for body casting, one ought to mention that it might not be the best idea to stick it to sensitive tissue like, say, for instance, one’s nipples. Ahem.
• I took a sick day to rest, since I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night lately, for at least 3 hour stretches. Thursday I started my workday (from home) at 4 a.m., since I was up anyway. That night I was up from 1-4 a.m. So it was good to take a Friday breather. Monday I have my amnio, and will work from home after that, and Tuesday I’ll work from home as well.
• …and then it will be Wednesday!!!!!! LB arrives to grace us all with his beautiful presence.

• Yesterday Gadget said I look like Tweedle Dee or Tweedle Dum.
• My innie is threatening to become an outie, but I don’t think that will actually happen.  Ever.
• Today Charming Doctor said my numbers were actually okay, that he was giving me positive feedback, so accept it. I think it was his way of trying. Perhaps he sensed my aloofness. (Is that a word?) He did recommend Weight Watchers when this is all over, and I never appreciate that advice. From anyone. Been there, tried that, don’t do clubs of any sort. Just don’t. It’s like they think it’s original, and nobody’s ever come up with the idea of suggesting it to me before. Of course, if I’d actually lose weight one of these days…
• We’re both skilled professionals. I’ve decided that if we were colleagues in the same field, I’d kick his butt. So I feel better.
• He mentioned that he’s the doctor who’s on call this week, so should anything happen, he’ll be the one delivering LB. Internally resolve not to go into labor this week.
• I’m planning to ask my boss if it’s okay if I work the remainder from home, because it’s just too painful to move very much, and I need to sit sideways because my belly won’t fit under or against a desk, and I need to keep my feet up if possible.
• Sort of wondering if this kind of pelvic pain means things are imminent.
• Hoping I make it to my scheduled date, which is TWO WEEKS early, so it shouldn’t be a stretch to make it, should it?
• The big bag is loaded in the car:
  • breast pumps, yes, I mean business, I have two – the hospital grade Lactina and the manual Harmony
  • nursing pillow
  • baby clothes
  • the gorgeous receiving blanket that Suse gave us, gosh it’s almost too divine to use, but I’ll use it, because it’s so beautiful, befitting of a beautiful brand new boy
  • and diaper bag
• My personal bag is packed and ready at the office door. I suppose it can go in the car too. Don’t know why I didn’t put it there yet.
• Wondering if I Google pelvic pain and dropping (engagement) if I might have reason for alarm. Will probably do it anyway. Okay, did it. Could have anywhere from 2-4 weeks, so no need to freak out just yet.
• Didn’t have this sort of pain last time. Every pregnancy is different. As they say.
• Constant heartburn. Constant. Will Tums help? And why heartburn if ‘engagement’ is supposed to alleviate it? Heavens be praised, calcium carbonate does help.
• Considering doing a belly cast. Not enough time for mail order. Wonder if Michael’s has the plaster strip stuff.
• Called uhmerikanekspress and they have no record of having sent my new card. They apologized profusely and will expedite one, to arrive Wednesday. Good grief.
• Need to see MY doctor before delivery day, but he’s all booked. Usually helpful scheduling woman clearly said she’d call me tomorrow when he’s in, then when I was confirming what needed to be done, said (impatiently), NO, I need to call tomorrow to find out whether he wants to fit me in. She’s probably PMSing. I’ll cut her some slack. She’s usually very nice.
• Thinking about repainting a few walls. Gadget will undoubtedly frown.
• Need to have my hair touched up once more before Baby arrives – don’t know how long it will be before I can do it again, after he’s here, and lovely as it is, the blonde needs regular touch-ups.
• OH MY DEAR GOODNESS, I’m about to have a BABY! It’s so unreal, and so REAL. I’m beside myself.
• Obviously
• Only 36-1/2 weeks. And. Goodness. Gracious. Me. I’m. Tired.  All. The. Time.