Maturing his immune system and lungs. Both of which are pretty important, I suppose.
Now in my third trimester. Don’t call it a “home stretch” or I may burst into tears over what I still think I have to do… which is nothing.
Waddling, grunting, and resembling a turtle on its back while I’m trying to get out of bed.
Oh, the memories:
Acid reflux. Prior to this week it was annoying but manageable, this week it’s turned into borderline unbearable. I’ve learned that there is a difference between name brand Tums and Kirkland brand. Difference being one works and one makes me cry into the bottle at 3am when I’ve maxed out the dose.
Hormones. They’re present and they suck.
What the hell:
The cravings are getting stronger for sugar. I drank a Coke for breakfast.
It takes a strong woman to be pregnant. It’s a lot of physical and emotional changes and you’re supposed to walk around for 9 months pretending to be happy about it all. Most days I am because I can keep my mind on the end goal here, but yesterday I hit the wall. On Tuesday night I was up all night learning a valuable lesson in generic Tums. I finally got comfortable downstairs in the recliner when through the monitor came a tiny voice from the house 2 year old calling for me and crying. I went up to check on him and he just wanted to cuddle with me. I tried the rocking chair and he wouldn’t fall back asleep so a few hours after attempting, I tried to lay in his bed with him but it made me sick. So I put him in our bed hoping that Daddy could do the trick but he was apparently knew the difference between generic Mommy and the real boobs. I did what any mom would do: I laid in bed with my little man so that he would sleep, even though I then spent all night sick. Somewhere in there the acid reflux started turning into an upset stomach and I got out of bed Wednesday with the stomach bug that’s plagued my house. So yesterday I’m bound to the recliner all day on a liquid diet and trying not to move. It just kept getting worse and by bedtime I was laying on the floor in the hall outside of Lucas’ room with a pinched nerve and pain that was taking my breath away. Cue hormonal tears. I’m over it. I don’t want to share my body anymore. I’m tired, I want to sleep on my back, I want to go an hour without having to pee, I want to wear my old clothes again, I could use a glass of wine after a bad day, I hate the taste of Tums, but more than anything I just wanted to be able to get off of the floor on my own and I couldn’t. Third trimester greeted me with a big, open-palmed, slap in the face and I’m calling bullshit on the whole thing. Pregnancy sucks.
Prior to this string of bad days, I’m happy to report that I have nearly nested the guest bedroom into the perfect nursery. It’s adorable, and I just like to take a peak in it every now and then to remind myself that in a few short weeks there’s going to be a tiny human in there. Let’s pause for a minute to remind ourselves how ridiculous it is that a 5 pound human has his own room. I don’t even have my own bedroom. But I digress…
Here’s a sneak peak at what I’ve got going on:
Lucas is now in a big boy bed:
And he’s sacrificed his crib mattress for his little brother’s room:
His little brother’s room, by the way, now has a dresser and closet full of clean baby clothes, and I’m starting to slowly unpack the stuff in the basement. This Momma is starting to feel better about the nesting and getting ready for baby.
Just in time to get sick and be bitch slapped by third trimester symptoms.
This is the bump photo that you get this week. You’ll get another tomorrow at 27 weeks, so don’t be shocked when it looks, well, the same size. It took me a week to be both home and showered at the same time and the thought of 5 extra minutes to write on a chalk board and set up my camera is daunting. So this week lets all just agree to let Baby Boy take a backseat to his brother Lucas since we operate under “no man left behind” in this family.
Lucas is on the bounch back. I’ve never been so content with my toddler getting on my nerves.
I’ll post more tomorrow. I just don’t have the energy to tell you about all of the things I’ve been doing when all I can see in the house around me is the evidence of things that have been neglected.
But we’re all happy and healthy again and hats the important part.
There’s a quote that being a parent is to forever learn how to let your heart walk around outside of your body. That’s never felt more true than these last few days when Lucas has been sick and we couldn’t do anything but watch him get worse.
This post comes to you via my phone on the pediatric floor of Bronson Methodist Hospital in Kalamazoo.
A stomach bug knocked Lucas down and the resulting dehydration delivered the match-winning blow to the house 2 year old. This morning I threw in the towel and took him to the pediatrician who sent him over for some lab work. When the results came in this afternoon I got the phone call that no Mom wants to hear: “the lab results indicate dehydration and he needs to go to the ER for fluids.” We hoped for a long evening before returning to our own beds for the night, but when we got here and they hooked him up to fluids they reran the tests. The doctor ultimately decided that he was getting worse at a rate that he wasn’t going to catch up from on his own with nighttime approaching and it was best for the little man to get some more serious IV fluids throughout the night.
The first good feeling came when Lucas became coherent enough to realize that he had and IV and tags that he didn’t want.
The second good feeling came when he didn’t want Mom and Dad to leave his sight.
This week’s maternity post is on hiatus until all members of our family are able to sleep in their own beds. I haven’t slept much the last few days which would probably be a stretch from my daily naps reappearing, but don’t ever underestimate what a Mom can do when it comes to her worry of her children.
25 weeks and about the size of an eggplant. The vegetable is disgusting.
Well, maybe a little bit. He’s drinking in amniotic fluid, peeing it out, and then drinking it back in. He’s also breathing it in. I’m not sure how nature planned that one to work out, but good for nature for not killing us all.
Tired. Last night my uterus hosted an after hours dance party from 4-8am. It was all fun and games until the club owner got mad, but lack of sleep will do that to a hormonal Mom in the middle of the night. So don’t poke the bear today.
Otherwise feeling pretty great. I grunt when I try to get off of the floor or out of bed, but I’m still able to do them on my own and that’s the important part.
Oh, the memories:
My wedding ring didn’t fit today.
In the middle of the dance party, the DJ had a slight pause to pop more Tums. Who doesn’t enjoy the chalky taste of Tums in the middle of the night? This girl.
What the hell:
My son better be born with flowing locks like Fabio. I just finished off my big bottle of Tums and found it more cost effective to purchase a pallet from Costco. Michigan’s supply of Tums is now being stored in my bathroom cabinet until on or before July 29th.
My Mom comes tomorrow and my need to nest is greater than my need to make sure she enjoys her trip. I’ve planned her to do list practically down to the minute and then accomplished most of it myself. She’s dangerously close to losing her mattress to the house 2 year old, who is dangerously close to losing his mattress to the baby who is in my belly not sleeping. Angel convinced me to wait to assemble the crib and start setting up the room until after she leaves so if you’re reading this Mom: you can thank him for not sleeping on a futon this weekend, but I can’t promise that you won’t be sleeping on one by the end of the weekend.
Must. Nest. Now. My house has been cleaned and the laundry has been washed and put away and I feel like I’m living in a dirt pile of laundry and housework. The stress of it makes me want to vomit into my Pinterest-worthy nursery crafts.
I have 14 weeks left, which is 3 months. ONLY 3 MONTHS. I’m 6 months into growing a tiny human (who still doesn’t have a name, room, or understanding big brother). I’m pretty sure that by this point with Lucas I was taking naps in the perfectly assembled nursery staring at piles of clean baby clothes. Right now I’m just hoping that the baby stuff we do have hasn’t been lost to the mice in the basement last winter. I wouldn’t know because I haven’t gone down to touch a single box, I’m just trusting that I washed it all appropriately and stored it in water-tight containers 6 inches off of the ground and away from the snow-melt flooded corner. I know 90% of this to not be true.
I’ve kept up with the gym. I go to water aerobics and yoga each once a week and then spend an hour walking around the track twice a week. I feel like a super hero until I see my reflection in the glass and am reminded that I’m a pregnant super hero who is really tired and maybe wobbling a little bit. I’m craving everything sugar and refuse to gain 600 pounds, let that be my motivation to get off of the couch and trade my toddler in for an hour of gym shoes.
I have a crazy busy day tomorrow that starts with the lovely glucose tolerance test but ends with picking up my Mama from the airport. I think I have a yoga class, play date, and (hopefully) nap to fit into the middle somewhere. But if my pregnancy brain serves me correctly, I felt like absolute poop following the epic sugar crash from my test with Lucas. So chances are I’ll finish the test, vomit, feel like passing out, and then eventually settle for laying on the couch a little green around the gills having not accomplished a single thing.
I’ve eaten a box and a half of macaroni and cheese while I wrote this, and am going to spend the rest of my evening wondering why I thought that was a good idea. Enjoy your evening, everyone!
24 weeks and about the size of a cantaloupe much like the one I cut up for fruit salad yesterday. Yum
Not being cut up for fruit salad.
Can probably sense upside down and right side up now. So I assume that means that he can also sense my ribs when he aims his kicks
Feeling like a whale. Second trimester bliss has come and gone- like a tiger flower only blooming for a day.
Taking naps again.
Have zero patience for living beings in this house. My son, my husband, my dog, they’ve all been targets of my mood swings. Poor babies.
Oh, the memories:
Swelling fingers and my wedding ring not fitting again. Some days are worse than others but I think we’re in the last week of not looking like a teen mom.
I see food and I want it but then I take a bite and I’m all like “yeah, that was a bad idea” and spend the evening feeling nauseous.
What the hell:
The desire to nest paired with the desire to not do anything. The crib is still in boxes in the corner of the guest room and all of the baby stuff is still packed up in the basement. Maybe it’s different this time because I know that I have everything so I don’t have the need to hunt and gather? Whatever it is, the thought of the room and my to do list gives me anxiety so I want to nest but instead I’m just pretending like I’m not about to enter my third trimester with nothing ready.
Poor second baby.
This week I’ve hit a major milestone in pregnancy: I’m 24 weeks. Baby now has a shot in hell at survival should something happen and I have to deliver. A baby at 24 weeks is nothing to write home about, but the thought that the odds only improve here makes me think that I should maybe get around to unpacking that crib and assemble it. And by “me” I mean “Angel” (are you reading this? I’m putting it on the blog so you HAVE to do it now).
Naming is so hard this time. We used both boy names that we liked on Lucas and now there’s a lot of veto’s flying around. At this rate, he will be born with no middle name and have to explain why for the rest of his life.
I still don’t think that Lucas understands that he’s going to be a big brother but I could be wrong. Last night he was sitting next to me on the couch and pointed at his belly and said “baby brother.” Swing and a miss. I took out the infant car seat so that I could sew a blanket cover for it and Lucas is suddenly very concerned about the car seat situation. He likes to go in the guest room where it is and tell me that “Lucas fix the car seat.” It’s nice of him to fix the car seat for me, though we aren’t sure what needed fixing. I try to tell him that it’s for his brother and he tells me that his car seat is in the silver car. So maybe he is understanding that there’s a baby coming? But either way, there’s no way he knows what’s about to happen to his world when he has to share mom. He’s a huuuuuugggeee Mama’s boy right now. Dad isn’t even allowed to give him hugs or pick him up. Soak it up kid, you’re not going to have a choice in a few short weeks.
I went to the doctor this week and was told I’ve only gained 14 pounds so far. She seemed really pleased with that and told me that I could keep doing what I’m doing. I didn’t want to tell her that what I’ve been doing is eating skittles from Costco, ice cream cones by the box, and giving into every single pregnancy craving that I’ve had. Lucas has really appreciated my pregnancy cravings because Mom always shares… Maybe that’s why he’s such a Mama’s boy right now? My c section gets scheduled in a few weeks and that’s when I start going to the doctor every other week. I CANNOT believe that I’m already at this point in the pregnancy. I mean, I just announced that we’re expecting to the world and here I am telling you that I’m about to round third base.
In other related news, this is how I feel about pregnancy:
23 weeks and about the size of a large mango. Personally, every mango I’ve seen is about the same size and I would like to think he’s a little bit bigger than that to account for the big belly. Maybe he can be the size of a grapefruit.
Likely just over 1 pound, but I suppose that’s for a mom who’s first son didn’t tip the scales at a small 6.0 pounds. If he’s only one pound, how do we account for the rest of this?
A little more in proportion and looks more like a real baby and a little less like a giant head with legs.
Freaking out a bit. I’m well aware that I’m pregnant but the fact that I’m pregnant is just starting to hit me. There’s a baby in there. He’s coming this summer. OHMYGOD he’s coming this summer.
Nesting. I feel a strong need to take the crib boxes out of the corner of the room and demand Angel to set to work. I’ve also been cleaning out every closet in the house, donating stuff to Goodwill, and I think I see fingerprints on the window that need to be cleaned right this second.
Oh, the memories:
I just grunted getting off of the couch to clean those fingerprints off
Slip on shoes are my friend. Perhaps ones that cover my chipped toenail polish. I would like to change either of these things, but in a week or two I’m not going to be able to see them anymore anyway. Out of sight, out of mind.
Wait, what did I just say? I forget. Wait, what did I just say? I forget. I already said that? I honestly don’t remember.
What the hell:
All I can think of that would fit into this category right now is the fact that I just got home from the grocery store and forgot to get ice cream. Honest, it’s all I can think about right now.
Not to be outdone this week by his younger brother, I woke Lucas up the other morning and the very first thing he said to me is “Mama’s pretty!” I almost cried. Can a mom have favorites? Lucas certainly thinks so.
This week I’ve started my two prenatal classes. Home girl is over here on track to gain 600 pounds this pregnancy, so Angel supported me to sign up for a water aerobics and a yoga class. Have you ever seen a pool full of pregnant ladies swimming with pool noddles? It’s a sight because none of us can move on dry land, let alone in a pool. I loved it. So glad that I found something to get me off of the couch and moving that’s safe.
Today is the first sunny day in the 60’s so to celebrate the (hopeful) end of winter I busted an old Taste of Home magazine out of the pantry from last summer and am making dinners out of it this week. Tonight we are grilling steaks with a pasta salad and tomorrow we’re doing BBQ chicken sliders. Warm is a state of mind when you’re living in Michigan because it is always cold. Always. I’ll post the recipes if they’re good for anyone else who would like to mentally defrost as well.
That’s it for pregnancy this week. Baby is still kicking, I’m still getting fat, and Angel is still taking all of my pregnancy neurosis like a champ. 23 down, 16 to go.