June 6, 2008
Apparently my uterus was offended at the letter I wrote and it decided to get me back last night. I had the usual hour or so of contractions after supper when I started feeling cooped up and decided to take a walk. Mike was watching Jumanji with the kids, so it was a good opportunity to go out by myself and see if I could get something happening. I made it half a block when I was already feeling mighty uncomfortable and by the time I got halfway into my walk, I was stopping pretty frequently to bend over or squat to relieve some of the pain. I sat down on a bus stop bench about a block from home to rest and then dragged myself the rest of the way. Mind you, this was not a terribly long walk – I didn’t walk miles or anything, just a few blocks (okay, I don’t really know how far I walked and I lost track of time, so I can’t even relate that information). I got home, collapsed into the rocking chair and spent the next half hour or forty-five minutes breathing and groaning and complaining about my pain. We put the kids to bed in the middle of all that and I still felt pretty bad. Mike went out to mow the lawn and I sat at the computer most of the time he was outside. Little by little, my ridiculously painful Braxton Hicks contractions went away. We went to bed somewhat early, although it took me ages to fall asleep because of my ribs.
Today, I’m tired, nauseated, still having contractions and absolutely no signs that they are “real” contractions. My half hearted joke from yesterday is still floating in my head: “Let’s get on with the bloody show!” Yeah, Mike didn’t even really laugh, but he’s the one who asked if I was having any yet.
I’m starting to look forward to Tuesday, when I may very well give birth almost on my own. I would still love to have the baby before then, but I’m having doubts.
Meanwhile, the kids decided today would be a good day to be clingy, argumentative (in the way that a three year old and twenty-one month old can be) and demanding. At the moment, they’re quietly eating lunch and watching Rugrats for the second time today (yeah, I’m weak; movies are too easy). When they’re done, they’ll have a nap and I can lay down or manically clean things, depending on what mood strikes me. What I would really like is one of two things: to go into labour right now or to let someone else deal with the kids for the rest of the day while I climb into bed and feel sorry for myself. And maybe sleep. It seems that I’m more likely to go into labour than for someone to magically show up at my house just begging to watch my kids. Maybe after the baby is born, but not now. Poor me. Poor pregnant me.
Am I pitiful or what?
June 3, 2008
Mike mentioned the other day that even though I’m sick of being pregnant, I will have the baby this month. It’s one nice thing about being due when I am – I can only really go two weeks late, and that’s still June, so there you have it. I had my appointment today and found out something pretty shocking – I have gained about six pounds in the last week. Yeah, no kidding. I have noticed more back pain and feeling like I’m suddenly huge, so my suspicion is that the baby and the boobs have grown. At least that’s what I’m hoping. I’m also hoping that I have the baby soon, because I did the math, and I’ve now gained about thirty-three pounds during my pregnancy. My doctor actually made the first weight related comment today when she said that I was on target for how much I could gain during pregnancy, if I had the baby today. And then she told me not to have the baby today, because the whole hospital, maternity ward included, is packed. When I went for my first appointment in October, the nurse told me that June was a busy month. I mentioned this to my doctor and she said that she has thirteen!maternity patients due this month. Yikes!! And I’ll remind you that this is not a big city. This is Fort St. John, population 18,000-ish. If I remember correctly, the year Jenny was born, someone told me that we have the highest birth rate per capita in British Columbia. For our population, we were having about 250 babies per year, while Metro Vancouver, population around 2 million, was having 1000 babies per year. Yeah, our population is a fraction of the size of theirs and we are having a quarter of the number of babies they are. I’m sure my statistics aren’t perfect and are somewhat out of date, but still. That’s crazy. Add to that the fact that our hospital is ancient and sucks in a lot of ways, and well, it’s just a lovely place to have a baby.
Anyway, she said, “Don’t have the baby today.” I wonder if tomorrow would be okay. It would help me keep up with the Wednesday, first ten days of the month thing.
Regardless of all that, I have an appointment scheduled for next Tuesday to have my membranes stripped, which I would really love to avoid. If it doesn’t work then, she’ll do it again the next Tuesday, and then if it still doesn’t work, I’ll be induced between the 18th and 20th. I finally got the nerve to ask her what the hospital policy was on induction and she said that it’s more up to her and that she will give two weeks if everything appears to be going well for the baby. It’s very common here to induce after eight days, but she was previously practicing in the UK, where it is never done before twelve days overdue. I was relieved to hear this, because as much as I don’t want to be pregnant for another minute, I also do not want to be induced, so I’ll go as long as I can before putting myself through that again.
As for self-induction, I’ve been doing a bit of boob groping (I don’t know, that just sounds better to me than “nipple stimulation”) in hopes that it might help, but I haven’t noticed anything yet. I’m also planning to do some walking tonight, hopefully after the kids are in bed and things have cooled down a bit outside.
On the kid front, something pretty funny happened this morning, albeit something that required a good deal of clean up afterwards. I put the kids in their room to play for at least an hour and at some point, I remember hearing Jenny say, “Here, I have to change you.” I figured she was talking to one of her dolls or something and didn’t bother checking. Finally, I heard Elias crying and not stopping, so I thought it might be time to go in and rescue him. I found him, completely naked, sitting on Jenny’s bed. She had taken off her shirt and shorts and was pretending to sleep in her bed, ignoring her poor brother. A very dirty diaper was wrapped pretty nicely on the bed. As in, she took it off of him and wrapped it up just like we do. The only problem is that she gave no thought to the fact that he had some of the contents of that diaper still on him. So the sheets were stripped and the poor boy had to endure a good wipe down because it had all dried on by then. Ah, the joy. At least Jenny is trying to help. I told her that this is one thing she can’t help with unless I’m there. And I learned my lesson – don’t ever leave them alone with Elias in only a diaper. It was really warm in the house, he got breakfast all over his pajamas, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to wait to get him dressed. I was wrong.
Well, once again, I sincerely hope that the next time I write, I will no longer be pregnant. I seriously doubt that will be the case, but you never know.
October 3, 2007
On the 15th of September, I decided that I really was ready to have another baby. I have a two year old daughter and a one year old son and actually thought I was pregnant in August, but wasn’t. Upon my sister and brother-in-law’s announcement of their first pregnancy, I told my husband it was time.
The only thing about saying that is that we have never used any form of birth control, so it’s not really up to us. We were married six months before I was pregnant with my daughter, and my daughter was seven months old when I found out I was pregnant with my son. When a whole year went by after the birth of my son, I felt a bit surprised. After all, it had been the longest un-pregnant time since before I was married. However, God must have heard my heart, because around the twenty-second of September, I started feeling sick about every other day. By last week (around the twenty-seventh), it became every day. My sister-in-law got married on the twenty-ninth and I spent the whole weekend fighting the sick feeling in my stomach and telling people that I was 95% sure I was pregnant. My dad was here visiting and even though I was only two days late, I took a test yesterday morning (the second of October) so I could tell him while he was still here. The second line was pretty pale pink, but there were definitely two, so I’m definitely pregnant.
The baby is due on the eigth of June, less than a month after my sister-in-law’s due date. I’m counting on my kids doing really well playing together and keeping each other entertained after the baby is born – my daughter will be three on the first of June and my son will be twenty-one months. This is certainly more space than I expected to have between my kids, and it had its perks. I started losing weight in January and managed to get rid of twenty-five pounds by August, which puts me below what I weighed when I got married three and a half years ago. I have had very good luck losing my pregnancy weight, but I had put on twenty pounds just after I got married. I am still about ten pounds over what I should be to be in my ideal weight range, but I feel good and I feel ready to put on another thirty for the sake of a baby.
I’ll try to update weekly…but no promises. Also, in the next two months, things may not change drastically anyway. But I’ll do my best.