I skipped the eleventh week and I very nearly skipped week twelve, too, but I caught myself.  This week, we heard our baby’s heartbeat.  It always amazes and impresses me, even now.  I think in some ways, it’s more incredible after the first baby, because I realize that that tiny heart that is beating is going to be an individual and will look different than my other children and will have their own personality – and I will love them so much.  It also solidifies a pregnancy because except for feeling sick, there is nothing to prove that I’m pregnant until I start to show.  At twelve weeks, I can’t quite suck my stomach in, but that’s nothing that strange anyway.  Hearing that baby’s heart beating at 150 beats per minute just proves that there is, indeed, a little one growing in my womb. 

After being through it twice before, you would think I wouldn’t need proof other than puking and a pregnancy test, but the heartbeat and the ultrasound are usually big moments for me.  Not that I enjoy ultrasounds (because I really don’t), but seeing the baby is pretty incredible.

I suppose the reason I didn’t write last week was primarily because I was so sick, but this week, I just feel a lack of creativity.

To recap week eleven, I ran out of Diclectin on Sunday night and didn’t get an emergency supply until Thursday (since I didn’t know I could do that).  I was right back to being as sick as I was when I was six weeks pregnant (which was by far the worst week I had).  This last week has been pretty easy, except for cramps I’ve been having that are nothing more than uterine stretching (and very normal for this time of pregnancy) and one night when I puked after going to bed.  I laid there, trying to have a normal conversation with Mike and then realized it was pointless to put it off – I had to vomit.  Fun, fun.

Well, my lack of creativity is making it hard to think of things to say.  But at least I can say I only missed one week of journaling.


This pregnancy, I decided to get weekly updates in my email that tell me just where I’m at and how my baby has developed.  It helps to see drawings and read the updates since I’m not looking pregnant yet and can’t feel the baby move yet either.  This week – week ten – my baby is just over an inch long.  Before this week, the baby’s length was always described in terms of some sort of seed or bean (poppy seed, mustard seed, sesame seed, kidney bean, lima bean, etc).  Finally, week ten comes along and they just say it’s over an inch.  It also enters the fetal stage of growth this week (although that part has never mattered much to me – it’s a baby from day one in my mind). 

The new trend in my mommy feelings seems to be evening sickness.  I’m not too bad the rest of the day as long as I keep eating and don’t overdo it, but for some reason, I’ve been sick to my stomach every night after supper for the last few days.  On Sunday night, I was sure I could throw up, but decided that sleeping was a better idea, so I just went to bed.  Last night, we had a family favourite, lentil soup, for supper, and sure enough, it made me feel sick, too.  I get the feeling that garlic is at fault some of the time, because I tend to eat lots of it, sometimes unintentionally.  Today I feel like making cookies, but then when I think about eating them, I don’t feel so good.  Since I don’t like to make cookies if I don’t at least get a few of them, I think maybe I’ll skip it for today. 

‘Tis the season for hockey here in the north – Mike had a 10:15 game on Sunday night and last night, he had a 10:45 game – which makes for a very, very late night (for him).  I went to bed before he left and slept through most of his coming home and whatever he did for the three hours I estimate he was up after he got home.  The last time I remember looking at the clock, it was almost three in the morning and he still wasn’t in bed.  When he came to bed, I asked him what time it was and all he said was, “Late.”  Maybe if I ask him today, he’ll tell me what the time actually was.  I’m guessing he didn’t get much sleep last night, anyway. 

When we were newleyweds, I went to all his hockey games (although he never had really late ones except during tournaments).  When I was pregnant with our daughter, I went to all of his games.  For the whole season of hockey from the time Jenny was three months old until she was nine months old, I went to every game.  And then I had Elias and Jenny was a toddler and after the first late game I took both kids to, I told Mike I would go to his early games (church hockey on Sunday nights at 8:45 and other games if they’re before 9:00) but none of his late games.  It is just too late for the kids to be out.  They could stand being up at their grandparents until eleven o’clock, but not at hockey.  This Friday, we’ll go to a game at 8:15 (Mike’s playing for his dad’s team) and then probably come home while Mike stays to play his rec. game after that one.  I fully encourage him to play, but I don’t let anyone give me grief about not making all of his games.  I have two small children who get grouchier as the night wears on and a baby in my belly that makes me pretty tired most of the time – I need my sleep.  The best thing is when Mike plays a late game and we get the kids down before he has to leave.  Then I can take my time doing what I need to do before I go to bed and get to bed a whole lot earlier than Mike does.  With the kids sleeping in until ten in the morning, I can get twelve hours if I go to bed by ten, so I try to do it as often as possible.

A bit off topic, I suppose, but winter and hockey go hand in hand in our family.  Mike’s sister plays hockey, both our brothers-in-law play hockey and my father-in-law plays hockey.  They all play on the church team together, Mike and our brothers-in-law play on a rec. team together, his sister plays on a women’s team and his dad plays on another rec. team.  When April comes along with the end of the season, I’m usually a bit relieved, but by September, I’m ready to watch my man on the ice again.  I will say that I’m very glad to be having this baby a few months after hockey is over.  When I was pregnant with Elias, his due date was a week or two into hockey season (turns out he was born before it ever started, though).  This baby will get to grow up a couple of months before we ever take it to a hockey game; and there won’t be any risk of going into labour at the arena or anything. 

I guess I should be grateful for the time I have now – there will come a day when it won’t be only my husband playing hockey, but my children.  If Mike has it his way, all of his kids will play hockey, and although I wouldn’t mind if they did, I can’t imagine that they all will.  However, someday I won’t just be a hockey wife, I’ll be a hockey mom – flinching every time my kid gets knocked down or gets hit with a puck or a stick.  And it won’t be so easy to miss their games when they’re young, although fortunately, kids don’t play hockey as close to midnight as their dads often do.

So, I’ll try to enjoy the time that my little inch worm is still safely encased in my womb, because one day, he or she may very likely have a stick in their hands and skates on their feet.  And when Jenny cheers for her daddy, I’ll cheer along with her, because one day, she may be too cool to come to her dad’s hockey games.

Week nine, on the tail end

November 9, 2007

I think it is possible that week nine has been the best so far.  I could be wrong, since I’m technically not at the end of it yet, but for now, I think that is a relatively accurate thing to say.  I had a bad start to it, and a bad end to week eight as well – I threw up once on Saturday and twice on Sunday (one of those times was at a hockey game – hooray).  I feel like, at the very least, I’ve been able to eat more normally this week than I have in the last six weeks.  The abnormal thing about it has been my desire to eat gigantic quantities of food.  I was yearning for a buffet for two days straight.  I may have gotten that out of my system by eating a large portion of an extra large pizza, but we’ll see. 

Meanwhile, in the real world, it is snowing.  Yesterday, I went to the shed to get things out that we would need for the winter – kids clothes to grow into, winter boots, scarfs, jackets, etc.  Christmas lights and a few decorations.  I figured it was smarter to go when we only had a bit of snow and I wasn’t full of baby yet.  I made a few trips and added shoveling the walk and porch to the activities of the afternoon.  When Mike came home from work, we got Jenny suited up and he took her outside and shoveled the rest of the driveway for me.  Unfortunately, I was greeted this morning with fresh snow on the ground and lots more of it falling in big flakes from the sky.  It hasn’t let up in the two hours I’ve been up and it doesn’t look like it’s going to.  Unless it stops snowing this afternoon, the driveway will not get shoveled and my chances of getting myself stuck in it will increase greatly.  Last year, I managed to get stuck in the driveway three times (maybe it was four).  Of course, a great deal of the fault there was due to the huge snow drifts at the end of our driveway and front yard put there by the city when plowing the streets.  Don’t get me wrong – I appreciate the fact that they plow the streets (we wouldn’t be able to drive on them if they never did it), but they think nothing of leaving a three foot deep pile at the end of residential driveways.  We got home one night to about a foot of new snow and two feet of plowed snow blocking us out.  It took us a nice long time to shovel our way in (late at night, mind you) and after that night, the driveway was barely big enough for the van to fit in.  My goal for this year would be to avoid that same predicament by keeping up on the shoveling…but…  The trouble is that when the snow comes down like this, it takes an awful long time to shovel the driveway.  Mike hates doing it when it’s thick like this and I hardly have the energy even on a good day to complete such a big job.  I suppose my only hope today is that it would stop snowing for an hour or so when the kids are having their nap so that I can go out and start the job for Mike.

I suppose none of that has anything to do with pregnancy, but since this is a “journal” of sorts, I may as well journal, even if it’s just about snow.