Tag Archives: pregnancy

Ignorance WAS Bliss

Today is Friday.  Monday I am having this baby.  Holy. Crap.

There’s definitely something to be said for not having a clue what is going to happen to you.  Knowing, in this case, really ramps up the anxiety level.  Giving birth and recovering from it is pretty much the most difficult thing I’ve ever done.  And I’m going to do it again in a matter of days.

Pregnancy has a way of taking itself to a point with your body that you are ready to have it over with.  And I’m there.  Seriously there.  Apparently after posting a few complaintish Facebook posts about feeling miserable, I’ve discovered that some people really don’t take well to any negative comments about being pregnant.  I should be (like them and…) enjoying these last few days of being so connected with my son.  I’ll be honest with you.  I don’t like being pregnant.  I love my children.  I love babies.  I will endure the discomfort to have the miracle of a baby join our family, but I don’t like it.  Well, maybe the good hair is likeable, but seriously – there’s not much I enjoy about being pregnant.

There’s especially not much I enjoy about being this pregnant.  (Here is comes…)  Lying on my side is now impossible because whichever side of me is down goes to sleep (pins and needles, not snoring) in a matter of minutes.  And, since this is the only approved way to sleep during pregnancy, sleep becomes tricky.  For the past few weeks, I have been sleeping on our couch all kinds of propped up with pillows.  Yes, baby kicks are cute.  But when the baby gets this big the skin is stretched and there’s no way he can move without hitting something in there that hurts.  I get that it’s special, but that much special is a lot to take right now.  And there’s my general appearance.  I’m fortunate to have taken great care of myself and have a nice watermelon-under-the-shirt bump.  I can clearly see my previous body behind it all.  I don’t gawk at other pregnant people, but I imagine that being this hugely pregnant does elicit some stares when I go out in public.  I miss my body.  I miss movement.  I miss exercise.  And let’s face it, sex doesn’t really happen at this point.  I miss sex.

Another bit of randomness that has been floating through my brain is how to love and care for a second child like your first one.  Carter really has a special hold on my heart.  To me, he was perfect from the first moment I saw him.  I’m crazy about him and I can’t think of a stage or a phase that he’s gone through that I didn’t find completely endearing in some way.  And now, he’s the most brilliant little 3 year-old I’ve ever met.  He reads, he writes, he’s artistic, he’s imaginative, his vocabulary is amazing, he’s so loving…I could go on and on.  Yes, he does naughty things that 3 year-olds do, too.  How do you begin to share your attention and affection with two children while still managing to give each one all they need?  No doubt, there will be times when I have to choose.  Right now, it’s tough to imagine, but I’m sure it’s one of those things that completely works itself out day by day.

So, here I go, into the baby world again.  I’m exciting.  I’m a little scared.  But, I’m ready.

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When I’m Wrong, I Say I’m Wrong

So much for the whole not-having-gestational-diabetes rant.  That was obviously silly and wrong.

As it turns out, the farther you go into pregnancy, the more the condition develops.  More hormones = More Sugar Blocked From Turning Into Energy.

Today, after a perfectly ok lunch at Quizno’s of a 1/2 chicken sub on whole grain bread, my blood glucose level was sky high.  I had several errands to run after lunch and I could feel that something was wrong.  I was weak, disoriented, nauseous.  Yes, it was freaking hot outside, but I had this clammy feeling all over.

I got home as soon as I could and did the 2 hour post lunch blood check.  153.  Not good.  My max should be 120.  So, I ate a very grainy and nutty snack bar with very little sugar.  Some of the nausea subsided, but I’m still pretty weak.

I spent some time reading up on symptoms, management and results of this should it go unmanaged.  Just to give you an idea of my ridiculous state, I cried boo hooed when I read that I should be exercising to help this condition.  Today, I don’t even feel much like standing up.  Exercising feels way out of the question.

I’ve got 9 weeks left.  Yesterday that felt like a short time.  Today it’s beginning to feel like a very, very long time.  I suppose it’s all relative and I’m hoping that I bounce back the other way soon.  Tomorrow I have an appointment with my doctor to discuss all this.  Apparently I will not be arguing about whether or not I have gestational diabetes.


Bump Talk

I realize that there is this need to constantly comment on the size of a pregnant chick’s bump.  I mean, it’s so OUT THERE and tough to overlook.  And it grows, so that equals great small talk to so many people.  But, I have to admit, it’s starting to get to me.  I mentioned before this very annoying level of modesty that I have.  And, add in a bit of not enjoying being the center of attention and there’s a bit of a problem.  My bottom line is — if you’re a friend I welcome your hugs and friendly touches.  Yes, even if they are belly ones.  But, if you are a vague acquaintance at best, please don’t touch me.  And PLEASE do not rub my stomach.  So…the modesty thing is spilling over into the many conversations about my body.

As it turns out, I’ve only gained 7 lbs. at 30 weeks of pregnancy, so I’m not HUGELY pregnant.  And, I’m extremely fortunate that I can still wear some normal clothes, which do even more to minimize the bump. The doctor’s aren’t worried.  The baby is measuring right on time.  I have to give some credit to myself.  I’m very diligent with healthy eating and drinking when I’m not pregnant, so I’m even more so when I am.  But, I have to admit that I’m starting to feel a little paranoid and way too body-image-conscious with comments like “Are you sure you’re pregnant?”, “You’re so small!”, “Gosh, you’re not big at all to be so far along.”  I know, I know, I KNOW that everyone means those comments as compliments.  But, it’s getting to me.  I’m having this constant dialogue with myself to convince my own head that there’s nothing wrong with me or my baby.  I have to tell myself that I’m ok, Evan’s ok and everything’s going to be ok in the end.   I happen to think that I look VERY pregnant and anyone who says I don’t simply does not remember what I looked like before.

And then there’s the flip side.  If I intentionally wear something that makes me look extra pregnant I get comments that are just the opposite:  “You’re finally looking pregnant.” or “Now you’re looking big.”  Sadly, those don’t help either.  The thoughts that go along with that are:  Am I retaining too much fluid?  Am I overcompensating with my eating?

I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s me.  It’s totally me and my crazy head.  I’ll get over it and I’ll get through several dozen more “Bump Conversations” before week 40.  But, I reserve the right to cringe a little inside about it and add it to the list of one more reason I’ll be glad to HAVE this baby and kiss pregnancy goodbye.  At least then, everyone can begin to talk about him, which I will enjoy immensely.  🙂

Almost 31 weeks