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I am still totally unprepared for the giving birth situation as well as the practical parts of having a child to care for – i.e. clothes, diapers, bedding, a nursery in various stages of being painted – but now those things have moved from the “to do” list to the “OMG URGENT YOU TERRIBLE MOTHER” list. The moment that really caused panic was as we were leaving the hospital the other night, my lovely nurse said “Take care of yourself, and we’ll see you again in a few weeks to have this baby!” Gah.
So today I finished all the trim, taped the moldings and spackled the nail holes in the nursery. I think we’re going with the middle color in this picture. We’ll go get the paint tomorrow:
The one on the right is called “Sweet Baby Boy” but I am resisting my desire to pick a color based entirely on the name (I have a bad habit of doing this: nail polish is my weakness. For my wedding I wore “Happily Ever After”) Keep in mind the wall is already green, so the colors look less bright in comparison. Plus the furniture is all going to be cherry, so we need a bold color as a backdrop. Oh and here’s one of the things from the nursery bedding set:
Very pirate-y as opposed to just nautical. I think the middle blue will bring out the color in the sails instead of just matching the sky or the water, plus it will make the room’s white trim pop. Yes I am definitely over thinking this situation, no I do not care.
I’m fine, the baby is fine, everything is now totally ok. Last night I had some minor bleeding and a major panic attack and decided this time I was NOT going to wait and call the doctor in a few days if it didn’t go away (see: flu shot pain). That’s my update, and now I’m going to provide you with WAY TOO MUCH INFORMATION, so feel free to stop reading.
1. If you go to the hospital and say “22 weeks pregnant” people take you seriously. Even if you tell them you know you’re overreacting and you aren’t in pain and you just wanted the on-call doctor to take a quick look, you will get a wheelchair, several nurses, and your real doctor will be paged.
2. The Doppler machine is much harder to use than you previously knew. My first nurse couldn’t find a fetal heartbeat, and I swear if she had looked for mine at that moment she couldn’t have found it either. I got so concerned my blood pressure dropped and I got light headed. The second nurse couldn’t find the heart sounds, but we could both feel the baby moving around. The doctor eventually used the sonogram machine and found it.
3. Hospital beds are incredibly uncomfortable. My back hurt, my legs hurt, my neck hurt and even though I was totally exhausted there was no chance of sleep. Evan got more rest in the metal folding chair than I did in this bed. I’m hoping the actual labor and delivery rooms have better beds but I’m not getting my hopes up.
4. Even though no one sent me home as just an over concerned pregnant woman, once I mentioned we had enjoyed some, um, marital activities earlier, everyone started smiling and stopped running. I tried to explain it had never caused any bleeding before and it wasn’t just a little bleeding it was scary red clumpy bleeding (I told you to stop reading) but the doctor assured me it was still probably the cause.
5. Although lying to a doctor is never good, I wish I hadn’t mentioned the marital activities. Evan also wishes I had lied, since those activities have been forbidden until I get to 34 weeks. That’s 3 months from now. I may revisit the issue at my next actual appointment, because although I am willing to give up a lot of things during pregnancy, that is not one of them.
6. Injections in your butt hurt more than any other shots ever. Since I am Rh negative they gave me a shot of RhoGAM just to be on the safe side. I think I mentioning the Rh thing twenty times may have convinced the doctor to give me the injection just to make me shut up, but I feel much better today knowing I’m covered. i just can’t sit on any hard surfaces.
7. Emergency rooms and late night hospital visits are not at all similar to the ones on TV. Our ER is small and softly lit with art on the walls and beige carpet. Sadly, neither George Clooney nor Noah Wiley were anywhere to be found. My nurses weren’t even a little bit sassy. No one came in with a gunshot wound, impaled on anything or even a head trauma. I’m kind of glad, because I was freaked out enough as it was, but a cute doctor or two wouldn’t have been too upsetting.
After a brief incident this morning when I discovered the cats had licked a hole in my pumpkin pie, my husband still hadn’t cleaned the litter box, the turkey was still partially frozen and I considered cancelling the whole thing, it looks like it will be a Happy Thanksgiving. The baby is looking forward to eating an entire box of Stove Top and a jar of mini pickles while I am looking forward to taking full advantage of my maternity pants with some baked brie (pasteurized!) and pretending this bottle of sparkling cider is really champagne. Hope everyone has a happy and safe holiday with their family, friends and fetuses.
One of the reasons I love my house is the bathroom. I could easily host a small cocktail party in it, but the shower is rather undersized. As I get larger it becomes more and more difficult to a) not bump into the walls or temperature controls and b) reach my legs. Since it is winter (I recommend winter pregnancies for many many reasons) I have been lazy with the leg shaving, but reached the point today where it can no longer be ignored. In this wonderful enormous bathroom is a whirlpool bathtub. I set it up with candles, lots of good smelling salts and fizzy balls, and bubble bath. It has always made me feel very glamorous to read a book and sip a glass of wine, like someone from a romantic comedy.
Unfortunately, in my current impregnated state, my lounging is more like that of a beached whale (an albino whale, I practically glow I’m so pale) than a movie star. When I tried to lie down and read a book my bump squished my boobs up to the point of strangulation. When I sat up the baby planted his butt firmly on my bladder and I had to hop (by hop I mean roll and slosh like a walrus) out for an emergency pee. I eventually found sort of an in between position with my feet up on the side but my belly got cold really fast sticking out of the water like a humpback. Let’s see, have I missed any large sea mamals? Oh yeah, here we go:
The good news is the baby seemed to like the bath. He rolled around happily, kicking and wiggling in a pleasant way, instead of his usual what-the-hell-are-you-doing way. So I’ll probably just kick up the heat in the bathroom and lock the door to prevent anyone from accidentally witnessing the above disaster.
OMG I am such a bad bad mother. Why haven’t I been using a Prenatal Education System? I obviously my baby is now destined to pump gas for the rest of his life. Forget about college, I’ll be lucky if he gets into preschool.
The pregnancy books say the baby can indeed hear loud noises now, but I certainly hope he doesn’t remember them after birth. Poor child is the son of a sailor, his entire vocabulary will consist of four letter words.
It has been ridiculously cold in Connecticut for almost a week. Long underwear cold. Ski mask cold. My brand new winter coat is totally ineffective cold. If you have any of that global warming lying around, could you send it this way? As my friend Sarrible said, Connecticut is the state where Al Gore dares not tread.
Since it was only in the 20’s outside, I caved in and raised the temperature on the thermostat from the oil-and-cost-saving 60 degrees to the slightly-more-expensive-but-less-likely-to-cause-frostbite 65. There was absolutely no noticeable difference on the first floor. My second floor appears to have moved to the surface of the sun, although I don’t remember walking up any extra stairs. We have to keep the bedroom doors closed (due to my little cat’s absolute burning hatred of E and her desire to urinate on anything he touches) so the heat that should be traveling into the hallway and empty nursery gets trapped in just two rooms. Our new furnace thinks this is hilarious, and continues to pump out heat like it’s life depends on it.
On Saturday night I woke up at 4 am because I thought I was dying. Literally, dying. I once had a fever of 104 that landed me in the emergency room. That felt like a cool fall breeze compared to Saturday night. I lay on the floor of the bathroom for a while as the baby rejected the cookies I had eaten before bed and kicked me over and over in the diaphragm to protest the uncomfortable temperature. Eventually I cooled down enough that the room stopped spinning and I made it downstairs to sleep on the couch. I’ve used the phrase “bun in the oven” for being pregnant but this is the first time I actually thought I might cook my baby. Pregnancy makes you kind of warm anyways, but baby-warmth combined with a suddenly incredibly efficient furnace and five degrees on the thermostat was like the ultimate trifecta of hot.
Just in case you were worried I might actually have damaged my baby, when I took my temperature while lying on the floor panting, it read a slightly low but normal for me 97.2.
My friend Lalaland wrote about Popeye’s Chicken on her blog today. It was like waving a red cape in front of a bull. I want some delicious fast food chicken SO MUCH right now I am willing to make a very generous offer. My first born child. All you have to do is open a Chick-fil-A franchise within 20 minutes of my house. The closest one right now is in Paramus. NEW JERSEY. 82.9 miles. Starting one in scenic Eastern Connecticut would be a guaranteed success, plus now you get the added bonus of one baby boy, guaranteed to have all his fingers, toes and limbs. No promises regarding his intelligence, good looks or future addiction to World of Warcraft. Deal’s only for the next hour, because by then I will have put on pants and made it to KFC, even if it’s a poor, poor substitute for the real thing.
Wow, finally something you ARE allowed to eat during pregnancy. My doctor says she knows of no reason or study that would indicate pregnant women should avoid soy. I mentioned the hormone thing that my lovely and intelligent commenters brought up and she said my pregnant hormones are so much stronger than normal it would take a huge amount of anything to mess with them.
I also do not have skin cancer, high blood pressure or any signs of preeclampsia. I am officially fat, and got a little talking to about holiday overeating. She said it’s not a big deal now – I’m not harming the baby – but it’s going to be much harder to lose 50 pounds than 20. But I’m not going to worry about that yet, I don’t mind being fat if I have a baby to distract people.
My next appointment is December 18th. This year is ending much too quickly. Once it’s 2009 I don’t get to think my baby comes “next year” anymore. The nurse also reminded me I need to sign up for a child birthing class soon and get my tour of the fancy birthing center. You also get to see the nursery – which means actual teeny tiny just born babies – and that idea makes my hormones go all wacky with joy and fear. I am hoping a weekend of bread and cheese with the gorgeous Sarrible will take my mind off things.
I’ve always had the homemaking gene but now that the realization that a baby is coming to live in my house FOR REALS is starting to sink in, I’m going a little crazy. Today I made bread from scratch, baked and frosted three dozen cookies, went grocery shopping, planned our Thanksgiving dinner and narrowed down the nursery paint color options from 30 to 10. I also put a second coat on the trim to the right of the stairs and a final coat on the trim to the left, plus started the trim in the guest room and touched up the baby’s room. I don’t want any “pregnant women shouldn’t be painting” advice either – I’d love to use that excuse to make E do it but my doctor said as long as I’m not using anything lead based or putting paint on my toast, I’ll be ok. I spent at least eight hours on my feet and OH MY GOD do they hurt. I wore comfortable shoes with nice arch support and padded inserts all day, but right now I couldn’t walk across the room if my life depended on it. I have my feet up on a pillow, my milk and (freshly baked) cookies, Top Chef and the dog to keep me company, and I may end up sleeping on the couch if my arches don’t stop weeping in agony sometime soon. Tomorrow is the appointment where I ask the doctor eight zillion questions. I’ve convinced myself I have preeclampsia and now I can add “swelling of the feet” to my list of reasons why. Of course when my blood pressure reads at a totally normal level I’ll just have to accept that getting fat, retaining water and ligament pains are all just symptoms of pregnancy, not problems. Update for everyone on the soy issue after 2:00 pm tomorrow.
E is officially on shift work, which means he’s only home about 12 hours a day, and only conscious for 2 of those. I’m too lazy to cook for just me so tonight I found a crumpled up old Chinese food menu and ordered delivery. I really love delivery and would someday like to live in a place where I have more options than pizza and rice. I ordered more food than I needed (obviously, it’s Chinese food) and was so excited when it came I tipped the guy twice the normal amount. Here is where I become Crazy Hormonal Woman.
All I ordered was eggs rolls, fried rice and garlic chicken. Of course they send white rice too. And chopsticks. I also got soy sauce, hot mustard, and sweet & sour sauce in little containers instead of packets, which for some reason delighted me. I also got wanton crackers and fortune cookies. And then in the bottom, I found two little packets of tea that say “Enjoy” on them. I got all teary eyed about it – the nice people at the Chinese restaurant must really really want me to enjoy my meal, they thought of everything I could possibly want! Including beverages! It was like a little delivery angel had been sent from heaven bearing gifts meant just for this hungry, grumpy pregnant woman. Sitting on my couch with all this food spread out on my coffee table I cried just a little bit. Over soy sauce and tea.
Just do I don’t sound completely crazy, I’ve been freaking out a little today because the baby wasn’t moving around and I was afraid something was wrong. Right before dinner, I chugged a Mountain Dew (caffeine AND sugar!) and he started flopping around like a fish. I was so relieved I think NOT getting chopsticks and fortune cookies would have made me cry even more.