Baby is:

• 38 Weeks
• Huge
• Enjoying the caffeine that I had for lunch.  First time in 9 months but I just could not resist the cherry coke so I had a small one and it was as amazing as I thought it would be.  Mmmmmm, cherry coke.  Besides, maybe by giving this little man some caffeine will be the final shove that he needs to break free.

I am:

• 38 weeks
• Huge
• Also enjoying the caffeine that I had for lunch.

Oh, the memories:

• I feel like a time bomb.  I waddle.  I wake up 10 times a night to pee.  The taste of Tums makes me gag.  I have morning sickness again.  All of these things are coming back to me one nauseous wave at a time.

Surprising:

• Yesterday I guess I didn’t drink enough water so in the evening I was getting some serious contractions.  At first I wasn’t sure if they were real or braxton hix but after about an hour it dawned on me that I should maybe time them  because they were really getting painful.  So I sat on the couch with a GIANT glass of water and a timer and put my feet up and they started to calm down eventually.  Before they started calming down and I thought they might be real I started to panic.  PANIC.  I’m so uncomfortable, but I’m perfectly comfortable complaining about how uncomfortable I am and the thought that I need to leave Lucas for 3 days, go get surgery, and come home with another tiny human who I’m responsible for… nope!  I’m not ready but the train is approaching the station and the tracks only work in one direction.

Lucas is so excited to have a baby.  He came running up to me crying this week, hugging my belly, and telling me that he wanted to keep Mama’s baby.  He loves to tickle my belly, talk to his brother, and give him hugs.  He’s going to be so in love in a few days when he sees his little brother for the first time and I can’t wait to witness it.

Baby is:

• 34 Weeks
• Just packing on pure baby chub at this point and perfecting his lungs.  You know, for all of the screaming and crying that he’s going to be doing

I am:

• Tired.  If I don’t nap in the afternoon, I’m a pure bitch.  There’s no way to sugar coat that.
• Waddling now.  I couldn’t walk straight if I wanted to.
• Peeing every 2 minutes.  I’m like a dog marking my territory in the most annoying way possible.
• Pretty sure that the baby is dropping or has dropped with these last 2 symptoms.

Oh, the memories:

• It’s all coming back to me how hard it is to function.  It’s hard to get in and out of cars, up and down from the couch, on and off of chairs, and in and out of bed.  Readers, think of me fondly next time you pop off of the couch and grab a glass of water from the kitchen.  I’m like a sloth…. who makes a lot of grunting noises.

Surprising:

• So with Lucas ignorance was bliss.  I didn’t realize that his movements went down and I should be concerned and after his delivery and fact that he was so tangled in his cord I’m now terrified that it’s going to happen again.  I haven’t felt the baby really wack me in the last 10 minutes, should I be worried about this?  Maybe I should call the doctor to check.  Oh, there he is.  But is that enough movement?  How long between movements was that?  They don’t seem as strong as I thought they were, maybe I should go get checked out?  All.  Day.  Long.  If he’s not moving, I’m freaking out why and when he is moving I’m freaking out if it’s enough.  I can’t wait until this kid is here already so I can obsess over him in person while ignoring him at the same time (because isn’t that what you do to a second child?).

I’ve been slacking, I get it.  I’m writing about 34 weeks, even though I’m 35 already.  Just pretend that this was about 5 days ago.

I also missed week 33:

That’s right, week 33 was partially spent on Mackinac Island.  It’s a tiny, historic island between lower Michigan and the Upper Peninsula of Michigan (the bridge between the two is in the background of my photo).  The cool thing about this place is that you have to take a ferry, and there aren’t any cars on the island.  We’ve been meaning to go since we moved to Michigan and the reality of needing to go before there were 4 of us was sinking in, so we went.  I was excited, but also secretly terrified that something was going to happen while I was a walk, boat, and 4 hour car ride away from my doctor and hospital.  Yep, probably risky at 33 weeks and that’s why I never asked my doctor for permission.  It all worked out and was soooo  much fun but I was swelling up and hurting pretty bad by the time we got home.  It was a lot of walking this late in the game and there were some things that I just wasn’t able to do, which really made me sad.  There’s a fort at the top of the hill on the island that we wanted to go through and I just couldn’t bring myself to admit that it was out of my reach, but we never got to go because I “wasn’t feeling well” which was as close as I could come.  It was a tough pill to swallow to try to do something and see something that would normally be no big deal and struggle and not be able to do it.  I hate asking for help for things that I should be able to do, and I hate making people not do something they want to because I can’t.  While I had a blast on the island and I’m thrilled that we went, it was in the back of my mind that I felt like I was holding everyone back.  So we’re going to have to return so that we can scale that hill and fort and go check out some of the historic hotels.

Now on to 34 weeks.

This week included Father’s Day.  What a better way to celebrate Angel then by getting ready to welcome another little boy into our family?  And because Angel is such an awesome dad, you know how he wanted to celebrate? He took us out to a nice brunch, and then took Lucas to go get a new truck toy.  It was so adorable and selfless that I wanted to cry hormonal tears into my Tums bottle.

Once you have kids, your words come back to bite you.  I’ve been working hard on “please” and “thank you” with Lucas.  I know he’s understanding it because not only is he using it (correctly), but today he told me “say ‘thank you, Lucas'” when he got my shoes for me.  Touche, you pint sized component.  My mom and I were laughing about it and she reminded me that it never ends and used the snippit that I posted on Father’s Day as an example (that wisdom came from her).  Here’s another piece of proof that your daughter hears what you say, mom: My kid is really starting to get a personality and be a mini me.  It’s never too late to decide what kind of Mom that I want to be and I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.  Here’s what I’ve come up with: I don’t want to be a cool Mom.  I’m not going to be a friend to my kids.  My kids are going to have a life time of opportunities to make friends but I am the only mom they have the chance to have.  They don’t need a friend, they need a Mom.  I want them to know that my “yes” means “yes” and my “no” means “no” and I’m well on my way when my 2 year old is pointing out to me that I asked him for a favor and never said “thank you.”  The rules apply to Mom as well.

There’s my verbal vomit for 33 and 34 weeks.  Stay tuned for week 35, which should be coming any day now.

Baby is:

• 32 Weeks
• Making his presence known with some painful movements.

I am:

• Feeling my sciatic nerve.  This baby is literally a pain in my ass.
• Hauling around a chest to feed a nation.  Let’s take a minute to talk about my boobs.  No?  We don’t need to because you can see them from wherever you are reading this?  I believe you.
• Feeling pretty exhausted by this whole pregnancy thing.  I’m mastering the “I’ve given up” look and if I didn’t feel obligated to shower and put on makeup once a week for these blog photos it would probably never happen.  I feel so big and fat sometimes that it’s hard to keep my chin up.  Luckily, I can just prop it up on my boobs.

Oh, the memories:

• I’m suddenly scared of delivery.  Terrified. It’s one of those things that I don’t think about until I’m fully committed and without it being that way this would never happen.  I’m so freaked out by having another c section that I woke up in the middle of the night this week and started crying.  I’m even more scared this time because I already have a little boy at home who needs me and I’m going to be gone for 2 days having surgery.

Surprising:

• I take prison showers: 5 minutes, cold, and with an audience.  This time around I have a tiny man in my bedroom getting into things and yelling at me while I try to shower.  Not really pregnancy related, but is a new experience when mobility is already limited.

I want to take a moment to pat myself on the back.  Lucas and I were at Target this week and at the check out line, Lucas reached down grab a box of animal crackers off of the shelf and gave it to me with a big smile and said “aminal crackers please, mama?” so I said “okay!” and told him to give it to the cashier.  After she gave it back he asked me to open it and when I did and gave it back he said “thank you” with a big smile and started eating them while I finished checking out.  The cashier looked at me and said “You have such a polite boy!”  I thanked her but in the back of my head I’m proud of the fact that all of our hard work at not raising an asshole is finally paying off and being noticed by strangers.  By all means, don’t think that he acts like this all of the time.  We’ve been that family more than once in many different types of venues.  But for just a moment, I looked like the mom who’s son acts like that all of the time and I felt the glares from all other moms in the store.  It was everything I dreamed it would be.

Short post this week (4 days late), but I have a husband who is outside grilling dinner and pushing Lucas on the swing.  It’s like mom porn and I’m dying to go join them.  So frankly, you all just aren’t as important.

Baby is:

• Measuring right on track at 30 Weeks
• Head down with a heartbeat of 141 (as of 20 minutes ago at the doctor but has since woken up)
• Fully developed: just packing on chub, perfecting his breathing, and growing a head full of hair

I am:

• Up 22 Pounds (feeling more like 42).  Since I haven’t really swollen yet, the majority of it is straight out so there’s a lot of turning sideways to get around.  A “Wide Load” sign is probably appropriate.
• Tired.  All I really have the energy to tell you is that I don’t have the energy to do anything.  Angel (who never mentions housework that doesn’t get done because he loves me and values his life) even came home late last night to see me half asleep laying on the couch watching reruns of Shark Tank surrounded by dirty dishes, wall-to-wall toys, shoes and clothes and said “Oh, wow” and started laughing.  I didn’t even have the energy to tell him that “whatever you think I do all day, didn’t get done today.”  That included showering and changing out of pajamas (for neither Lucas nor myself).  We ate oatmeal for dinner.  It wasn’t my finest moment but was all I could do to get through a long day on my own with Lucas.

Oh, the memories:

• Acid reflux is back.  And this is while I’m on prescription medication.  I’m going to go ahead and bring a razor to the hospital to shave his beard because I’m apparently gearing up to give birth to a miniature chewbacca.    What is with me and growing hairy babies?  I have it way worse this time and I had it so bad with Lucas.  Lucas was born with a hairy back and a full head of black hair so in my experience the old wive’s tale about acid reflux and hair is 1,000% accurate:

Surprising:

• I feel so much bigger than I remember being last time at this stage.  I’m already outgrowing maternity clothes and yelling at them in my closet like it’s their fault.  Maternity clothes really should be labeled differently: Pregnancy 0-7 Months and Pregnancy 8-9 Months
• I’ve gotten away thus far relatively unscathed with the sleeping situation.  I’m not waking up to use the bathroom too much and am able to immediately fall back asleep.  Last night pregnancy insomnia set in because I was awake until 4am making a list of things to pack for the hospital because when else would I be making a list of things that don’t need to happen right away?
• I have a gut feeling that this baby is going to be bigger than Lucas and come early.  My c section has been scheduled but I honestly just don’t feel like I’m going to make it.  Before you laugh it off as crazy, I joked while pregnant with Lucas that I was going to have a 6 pound baby at 39 weeks and need I remind you that he came at exactly 39 weeks weighing 6 pounds 0 ounces?  So my gut feeling of an 8 pound baby before my scheduled c section really has me alarmed.

I’m at this stage of my pregnancy now with 2 major differences: I’m not laying on my back, but my side.  And I’m not eating carrots (unless those are the same thing as candy):

The looks that I’m getting in public are turning from those of “what a cute pregnant lady” to “wow, she looks miserable” as I really settle into my third trimester and waddle.  I’m usually always carrying a 30 pound toddler because he doesn’t always like to walk on his own (thoughtful of him to make sure I’m getting my exercise, really).  And speaking of the older brother, he is sooo incredibly clingy.  If we leave the house and get around other kids, he grabs onto my leg and hides behind me.  It’s like trying to scrape off gum from the bottom of your shoe: impossible without it getting stuck to something else.  He can’t deny my belly anymore but I think he’s going to be a great big brother.  We babysit my friend’s newborn every Monday for a few hours and he gets so into it.  He helps me get the bottle and feed her and then rocks her and shows her his toys and says “hi, baby!”  I’m sure it’s going to be different when the baby doesn’t go away, or when the baby starts moving and taking toys, but I’ll cross that bridge when we get there and enjoy the fact that I no longer worry about how Lucas is going to handle abdicating the throne.

In the mean time, I’m craving sea food.  So the baby apparently needs whatever is in the tuna I ate for lunch or the sushi that I seriously want to pick up for dinner after yoga.  Which I’m going to be late to if I don’t stop here and go change.  So I’m off to get all namaste and enjoy a good laugh at my new inability to bend forward.

Baby is:

• 29 weeks: the size of an acorn squash, butternut squash, or some other form of squash depending on the book.
• Making some moves that make me seriously wondering what he’s up to in there.  Also, ouch.  Those bones are developed.

I am:

• Large and in charge.  I’ve relocated my scale to the trash can, so I can only assume that I’m still gaining weight at an embarrassingly fast rate.
• Missing my feet.  I assume that they are still there, though I haven’t been able to see them in weeks.  I wonder if I can convince Angel to paint my toes for me?

Oh, the memories:

• Acid reflux is now just that: a memory.  I asked the doctor what I can take and when she recommended some over the counter remedies I told her how excited I was and how bad I had been having it.  She then responded with “Never mind, that’s not going to help you if it’s that bad.  I’ll write you a prescription.”  It’s life changing.  It tasted like Mexican food and sleep and that’s exactly how I celebrated.

Surprising:

• My wedding rings still fit.  I’m pretty sure those were locked up at week 27 with Lucas if my pregnancy brain reminds me correctly.

I’ve missed week 28 and nearly missed week 29 as well.  This pregnancy is just flying by and I’m running out of time.  I’m taking naps nearly every day now and it’s really sucking up my time to continue unpacking and cleaning the baby stuff from the basement.  For a while there I was knocking items off of my list faster than I was adding them, but that is not the case any more.  Mom, want to come back?

Maybe I’m just feeling like I have no energy because Angel and I have declared war on our 2 year old and his eating habits.  All I have the energy to write on the matter is that we have a very stubborn little boy, who Angel says is “exactly like his mom.”  In response to that, I threw myself on the floor, screamed, and then stormed out of the room with a pouty lip.  My son is so not like me, I have no idea where he gets it.

That’s all I’m going to write today because there is some pineapple in my freezer that is calling my name to be made into a smoothie.  Mmmmm, pineapple.

Baby is:

• 25 weeks and about the size of an eggplant.  The vegetable is disgusting.
• Not 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.

I am:

• 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!

Baby is:

• 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

I am:

• 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: