Dear Liam,
Consider this your eviction notice. It's time to come out. You were meant to be a July baby, and you are very quickly running out of time. The tropical storm isn't coming to Houston, Debs is going to Louisiana for the weekend (which she's doing for me - obviously if she canceled her trip you wouldn't come), we've managed to get all the cat hair out of your bed...what more could a little guy possibly ask for? Plus, I've been in a lot of pain off and on the last couple of days, maternity leave has officially started and the UPS man delivered the diaper bag yesterday. The ball is in your court. I've done everything I can to get ready for you. Time to hold up your end of the bargain little dude. Thanks - Mom.
WARNING - Possibly TMI Below - WARNING
My mucous plug has been coming out for the past two days. It's pretty gross, but a good sign. Of course, it doesn't mean that labor will soon be upon us, but still, it's another step in the right direction. After the contractions and pains I've been having the last few days, I'm pretty hopeful we've surpassed the 2cm/70% effacement mark set at the last appointment. Still not labor, yet, though. I like to think of myself as a fairly patient person. Not anymore. My patience is done. I want this over and done with - I DO NOT want to show up to my appointment on Tuesday (40 weeks, 2 days). While it's true that my due date isn't technically until Sunday, this kid has been measuring at least a week ahead, which (by my personal, professional diagnosis) that he is LATE
What happened to the "it's important that you take it easy and make it to 37 weeks - that's our goal"? If I would have continued pushing myself, hoofing my way into work each morning instead of working from home, could this have all ended weeks ago? Before, as Thomas so delicately puts it, Liam is big enough to come crawling out? Guess we will never know.
Until there is enough information for another update (like hopefully one titled - My Water Broke!), I'm curling up and watching Project Runway.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
A Few Steps Forward
Well, we got decent news at the appointment today. Progress is being made. After being measured as a 1+ and 50% at the hospital on Saturday night (which quickly became Sunday morning), by today we are at a solid 2cm and 70% effaced. Things are happening, just slower than I prefer. Although the doctor is hopeful (and was actually hopeful on Saturday and was ready to come in for Liam's arrival), we went ahead and scheduled my 40 week and 2 day appointment for August 2. I want a July baby...I don't want to wait until August!
If I make it to the next appointment, we'll then talk about induction. Until then, she's hoping it happens on its own, without medical intervention, which is better for me and the baby. I understand...I'd rather not have to be induced since I understand that being put on Pitocin can cause some seriously painful contractions. After experiencing a couple of real ones on Saturday, I'm not looking forward to having "more painful than normal" contractions. The regular ones are just fine, thank you. Plus, Thomas likes to give me the play-by-play when he watches the monitors. I can tell by his face that one is coming because he looks at my face expectantly, waiting for it to scrunch up or for me to moan and breathe through it. He'll then tell me, "Yeah, that one went up to like 90...". Yup, thanks dear, I know. I don't care what the nurses say about that device not being able to really measure the strength of the contractions. If the numbers are going up, so is my level of pain.
I'm going to attempt to walk tonight to help bring on labor. I say "attempt" because there are a few factors that could ruin this plan. First, I can't really "walk" - my hips are beyond sore so I do a form of shuffling/waddling. Second, it's ridiculously hot outside. Yes, I know. I live in Houston. It's July. Of course it's hot outside. I don't want to walk too far away from my house where there is air conditioning and ice water when the temperature plus the humidity level totals over 150, even after the sun goes down. Thomas might actually have to follow behind me in the car so that when I'm done, I can be returned to the house. Or maybe I won't even leave the house...there is ice cream here.
If I make it to the next appointment, we'll then talk about induction. Until then, she's hoping it happens on its own, without medical intervention, which is better for me and the baby. I understand...I'd rather not have to be induced since I understand that being put on Pitocin can cause some seriously painful contractions. After experiencing a couple of real ones on Saturday, I'm not looking forward to having "more painful than normal" contractions. The regular ones are just fine, thank you. Plus, Thomas likes to give me the play-by-play when he watches the monitors. I can tell by his face that one is coming because he looks at my face expectantly, waiting for it to scrunch up or for me to moan and breathe through it. He'll then tell me, "Yeah, that one went up to like 90...". Yup, thanks dear, I know. I don't care what the nurses say about that device not being able to really measure the strength of the contractions. If the numbers are going up, so is my level of pain.
I'm going to attempt to walk tonight to help bring on labor. I say "attempt" because there are a few factors that could ruin this plan. First, I can't really "walk" - my hips are beyond sore so I do a form of shuffling/waddling. Second, it's ridiculously hot outside. Yes, I know. I live in Houston. It's July. Of course it's hot outside. I don't want to walk too far away from my house where there is air conditioning and ice water when the temperature plus the humidity level totals over 150, even after the sun goes down. Thomas might actually have to follow behind me in the car so that when I'm done, I can be returned to the house. Or maybe I won't even leave the house...there is ice cream here.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Failed Attempt #1
We had our first failed attempt to have Liam last night. After heading to the bed to watch some TV around 9pm, Liam went nuts. He kept kicking and rolling and wouldn't stop. Around 11:00pm, I also started getting stabbing pains in my lower pelvic region that were very short, but very painful. We called the on-call doctor (miracle of miracles, it happened to be MY doctor), and she said to come on in and get checked. We got to the ER around 11:45pm and headed up to labor and delivery. After answering nine million questions from our very sweet nurse, I got hooked up to all the monitors and quickly learned several things:
1. Liam was fine, although very uncooperative to have the heart monitor put on me in a place where it would be comfortable. He much preferred the bed at the most inconvenient, awful angle possible and only after he danced around for five minutes while she tried to find his heartbeat.
2. I was having contractions roughly every 2.5 minutes, but was only feeling about every third one.
3. Having contractions every 2.5 minutes can mean absolutely nothing in the labor and delivery world.
4. After almost another whole week, I was now dilated to a 1+ (hey, I added a plus), and 50% effaced. Not in "labor".
She told me that she would come back in an hour and check me and see if the contractions, which were very regular and starting to become more painful as I laid on my back, were doing anything. One whole hour later, zero progress, and I got sent home with instructions to take a warm bath, take a Tylenol, drink as much water as I could and get some sleep. Ha, did they really think I could sleep? Turns out, wasn't really a problem. With the exception of a few bathroom breaks, I slept like a rock from 3:30am until around 10:30am.
Here's hoping attempt #2 is more successful than attempt #1!
1. Liam was fine, although very uncooperative to have the heart monitor put on me in a place where it would be comfortable. He much preferred the bed at the most inconvenient, awful angle possible and only after he danced around for five minutes while she tried to find his heartbeat.
2. I was having contractions roughly every 2.5 minutes, but was only feeling about every third one.
3. Having contractions every 2.5 minutes can mean absolutely nothing in the labor and delivery world.
4. After almost another whole week, I was now dilated to a 1+ (hey, I added a plus), and 50% effaced. Not in "labor".
She told me that she would come back in an hour and check me and see if the contractions, which were very regular and starting to become more painful as I laid on my back, were doing anything. One whole hour later, zero progress, and I got sent home with instructions to take a warm bath, take a Tylenol, drink as much water as I could and get some sleep. Ha, did they really think I could sleep? Turns out, wasn't really a problem. With the exception of a few bathroom breaks, I slept like a rock from 3:30am until around 10:30am.
Here's hoping attempt #2 is more successful than attempt #1!
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Roads and Roombas
So we are still waiting for Liam to make his arrival, but at least the gods are conspiring to make it an interesting wait. As I often say about the events that seem to happen in my life, you can't make this stuff up. So far today we've had one minor incident and one hilarious Roomba occurrence. For the minor incident, it turns out the the pothole Thomas hit earlier in the week didn't throw a weight off his tire, but instead actually bent two of his tires. Fortunately, insurance will cover all but the deductible, but not before we paid Volkswagen $100 to take the car apart and figure out what the problem is. Oh well, it all works out better than us having to cover the repairs out of pocket and is only a slight inconvenience to be down a car since I'm really not going anywhere these days. This incident isn't exactly amusing, but it does take one's thoughts off of the waiting...now for the other thing...now that was funny.
In terms of the Roomba, let's just say I'm glad the discovery was Thomas' and not mine. As we often do when we leave the house, Thomas kicked on Roomba to go forth and conquer the collie hair that's covering the floors. However, after we left, Daytona also had an accident (of the solid variety) on the kitchen floor. Since the Roomba is trained to sweep almost the entire first floor of the house, Roomba sweeps the kitchen, too. Let's just say that Thomas called and said there were Roomba "tracks" throughout the entire kitchen...and later he gets to take apart the entire Roomba and clean it piece by piece. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time.
The next appointment is on Tuesday...until then, I'll just sit back, relax and see what else is in store for me in the entertainment department. :)
In terms of the Roomba, let's just say I'm glad the discovery was Thomas' and not mine. As we often do when we leave the house, Thomas kicked on Roomba to go forth and conquer the collie hair that's covering the floors. However, after we left, Daytona also had an accident (of the solid variety) on the kitchen floor. Since the Roomba is trained to sweep almost the entire first floor of the house, Roomba sweeps the kitchen, too. Let's just say that Thomas called and said there were Roomba "tracks" throughout the entire kitchen...and later he gets to take apart the entire Roomba and clean it piece by piece. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time.
The next appointment is on Tuesday...until then, I'll just sit back, relax and see what else is in store for me in the entertainment department. :)
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Defeat
From time to time, I go on the online communities and see what the preggo world is talking about. Most of the time it's first time mom's asking questions about labor, delivery, what contractions feel like, etc., etc., but it's also a whole lot of complaining and whining (which I'm totally not guilty of, right...?). One of the biggest whines is the "failure to progress" whine, which is usually along the lines of "I've been 3 cm for two weeks and still no labor". I usually dismiss these posts, never quite grasping how it felt to have your body let you down. Obviously something is happening or you would be at a 0, so how bad can it possibly be?
Well, enter Tuesday, when I found out that after an entire week, my numbers were exactly the same as they were the previous Tuesday - 1cm and 30%. When she told me, I finally understood how the women on the boards felt. I felt defeated...how could my body have let me down? Seven whole days and I managed to accomplish nothing!?! Just a few short weeks ago we were talking about the importance of me taking it easy to make sure I safely made it to 37 weeks, and now I'm being encouraged to walk, move, do anything to get labor going (all while still following the instructions of the cardiologist to "take it easy" and not get my heart rate up). Sure, no problem. Let me try to kick start labor while at the same time continue on modified bed rest with my feet up the majority of the day...no problem.
We had a brief moment of panic today when Liam decided to stop moving for three solid hours, even after I drank a soda to try and jump start him. By now, I'm so used to him jamming me in ribs (often times hard enough to make me wince or cry out), that to not feel anything for a few hours was a bit scary. We were just about ready to call the on-call doctor when he woke up and turned my belly into his punching bag for a good solid hour. He's only taken a few breaks since then, and makes sure to land a few kicks every 30 minutes or so. It's almost like he's telling me, "See Mom? I'm fine...here's what you get for worrying."
In other Kamas family news, MECO has been going extra crazy lately. His new favorite thing? Putting himself in "jail". We have a folding screen in front of the fireplace and he will push one side in, jump up into the fireplace, and then jump out so he is behind the screen. He will then sit there, behind the screen, with his big cat eyes, and look at me all sad. He will then "trumpet" (MECO-language for his meowing) until I go and "rescue" him. This game is only fun for MECO...
Well, enter Tuesday, when I found out that after an entire week, my numbers were exactly the same as they were the previous Tuesday - 1cm and 30%. When she told me, I finally understood how the women on the boards felt. I felt defeated...how could my body have let me down? Seven whole days and I managed to accomplish nothing!?! Just a few short weeks ago we were talking about the importance of me taking it easy to make sure I safely made it to 37 weeks, and now I'm being encouraged to walk, move, do anything to get labor going (all while still following the instructions of the cardiologist to "take it easy" and not get my heart rate up). Sure, no problem. Let me try to kick start labor while at the same time continue on modified bed rest with my feet up the majority of the day...no problem.
We had a brief moment of panic today when Liam decided to stop moving for three solid hours, even after I drank a soda to try and jump start him. By now, I'm so used to him jamming me in ribs (often times hard enough to make me wince or cry out), that to not feel anything for a few hours was a bit scary. We were just about ready to call the on-call doctor when he woke up and turned my belly into his punching bag for a good solid hour. He's only taken a few breaks since then, and makes sure to land a few kicks every 30 minutes or so. It's almost like he's telling me, "See Mom? I'm fine...here's what you get for worrying."
In other Kamas family news, MECO has been going extra crazy lately. His new favorite thing? Putting himself in "jail". We have a folding screen in front of the fireplace and he will push one side in, jump up into the fireplace, and then jump out so he is behind the screen. He will then sit there, behind the screen, with his big cat eyes, and look at me all sad. He will then "trumpet" (MECO-language for his meowing) until I go and "rescue" him. This game is only fun for MECO...
Sunday, July 17, 2011
No news is...well, no news
It's the start of Week 38 and no end in sight. I did manage to get a really great nap in today, but since I managed to fall asleep at 7:15pm, there's a really good chance that now that I'm up and moving again, I won't see the backs of my eyelids again until the it's technically Monday. Then it's up and "off to work" (i.e. grabbing my laptop off the charger and bringing it into bed) for another week of trying to keep my mind off of what is not happening.
The doctor suggested walking (among other things) to help get labor started, and Thomas has been encouraging me to get off my tail and Jessica even invited me to take a stroll with her and her babies (I had every intention of going...the aforementioned nap-time interfered!) I'm going to give it a shot tomorrow evening, but anyone that has been anywhere with me lately (and I haven't been many places - I've been following doctor's orders to take it easy and make sure I don't overexert myself...have to keep the heart rate and stress down, plus I get really swollen when I spend any amount of time on my feet) knows that I'm moving about the speed of snail. In fact, last night after enjoying a casual family dinner out, we all were walking to the car and about 60 seconds into the walk, four heads look back to realize that I'm 30 paces behind, breathing hard and in general, hating life. It's a conundrum...which orders (from the same doctor I might add) to follow? Rest, relax and take it easy - don't get worked up OR attempt to make it further than the amount of steps it takes to reach the car in an effort to kick-start my body?
Tomorrow is my birthday which fits in with Thomas' plan to ensure I'm "old" when Liam is born (old = same age as Thomas, not that I'm not almost an entire year younger...and he won't be "older" in a couple of months). My mother is convinced Liam is coming tomorrow; however, the official prophet has spoken and decreed the 20th the day. For those that don't know, the official prophet/source of information in the Rogers household for the past several years has been a pink pig that serves as a dry erase board. The pig is how the family keeps up with what is going on, from countdowns to status updates. I don't even remember when the pig appeared, I just know that if you need to get any information to the family, the best place to put it is on the pig because everybody checks the pig. The pig currently says Liam is arriving on 07/20/2011. (Remember - I can't make this stuff up - this is how my family operates...) I guess we will see on Wednesday if the pig knows his stuff.
The doctor suggested walking (among other things) to help get labor started, and Thomas has been encouraging me to get off my tail and Jessica even invited me to take a stroll with her and her babies (I had every intention of going...the aforementioned nap-time interfered!) I'm going to give it a shot tomorrow evening, but anyone that has been anywhere with me lately (and I haven't been many places - I've been following doctor's orders to take it easy and make sure I don't overexert myself...have to keep the heart rate and stress down, plus I get really swollen when I spend any amount of time on my feet) knows that I'm moving about the speed of snail. In fact, last night after enjoying a casual family dinner out, we all were walking to the car and about 60 seconds into the walk, four heads look back to realize that I'm 30 paces behind, breathing hard and in general, hating life. It's a conundrum...which orders (from the same doctor I might add) to follow? Rest, relax and take it easy - don't get worked up OR attempt to make it further than the amount of steps it takes to reach the car in an effort to kick-start my body?
Tomorrow is my birthday which fits in with Thomas' plan to ensure I'm "old" when Liam is born (old = same age as Thomas, not that I'm not almost an entire year younger...and he won't be "older" in a couple of months). My mother is convinced Liam is coming tomorrow; however, the official prophet has spoken and decreed the 20th the day. For those that don't know, the official prophet/source of information in the Rogers household for the past several years has been a pink pig that serves as a dry erase board. The pig is how the family keeps up with what is going on, from countdowns to status updates. I don't even remember when the pig appeared, I just know that if you need to get any information to the family, the best place to put it is on the pig because everybody checks the pig. The pig currently says Liam is arriving on 07/20/2011. (Remember - I can't make this stuff up - this is how my family operates...) I guess we will see on Wednesday if the pig knows his stuff.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Making Some Progress
Well, some progress is being made in Operation Get Liam Out. According to the doctor, I'm 1cm and 30% effaced. It's not much, but it's definitely more than last week. Although, I contend that the better news is that I lost a pound. It seems counter-intuitive to actually lose weight these last few weeks, but it's actually a sign of labor getting close. The baby keeps gaining, but the mom actually loses a pound or two. Small victory...these days, it's all about the small victories.
When I told Thomas the news, his response was "Only nine more centimeters to go." Ha. Easier said than done, Kamas. Unfortunately, there is no schedule, rhyme or reason to how these things go. It could be tonight, it could be two weeks from now. The doctor said the goal for next week is 3cm, but in the same breath she said we could also hope to deliver at 38.5 weeks. News flash - next Tuesday is 38 weeks, 2 days...so apparently she's thinking next Wednesday or Thursday. She also continues to remind me that there is a big baby hanging out in my belly. Trust me - I'm aware. I'm definitely aware at night when I swing the belly back and forth as I toss and turn, trying to find a comfortable position to get some sleep. On the rare occasion I can get comfortable, it's usually only 5-10 minutes before I have to get up to go to the bathroom.
I've continued to become more and more uncomfortable. I've figured out a way to arrange the pillows in my bed so that I can continue to type on the computer while lying down...kind of. It works for the first couple of hours, then I have to rearrange. Thomas is absolutely loving the fact that our bedroom is now our office and looks forward to moving the computer and my stacks of paper each night so that he can go to bed. Hehehe...just a little payback for the nine months. Nothing too bad ;)
Celebrities have all decided to give birth this week - Kate Hudson, Jewel, Victoria Beckham. Can't a regular gal catch a break and join the club?
When I told Thomas the news, his response was "Only nine more centimeters to go." Ha. Easier said than done, Kamas. Unfortunately, there is no schedule, rhyme or reason to how these things go. It could be tonight, it could be two weeks from now. The doctor said the goal for next week is 3cm, but in the same breath she said we could also hope to deliver at 38.5 weeks. News flash - next Tuesday is 38 weeks, 2 days...so apparently she's thinking next Wednesday or Thursday. She also continues to remind me that there is a big baby hanging out in my belly. Trust me - I'm aware. I'm definitely aware at night when I swing the belly back and forth as I toss and turn, trying to find a comfortable position to get some sleep. On the rare occasion I can get comfortable, it's usually only 5-10 minutes before I have to get up to go to the bathroom.
I've continued to become more and more uncomfortable. I've figured out a way to arrange the pillows in my bed so that I can continue to type on the computer while lying down...kind of. It works for the first couple of hours, then I have to rearrange. Thomas is absolutely loving the fact that our bedroom is now our office and looks forward to moving the computer and my stacks of paper each night so that he can go to bed. Hehehe...just a little payback for the nine months. Nothing too bad ;)
Celebrities have all decided to give birth this week - Kate Hudson, Jewel, Victoria Beckham. Can't a regular gal catch a break and join the club?
Monday, July 11, 2011
Another Long Night
So it's another long night in preggo-land. I'll be up bright and early at 8am for my official work start, and you think that would make me able to fall asleep at night, but no. Tomorrow I'll be in the same place I am in tonight - exhausted but unable to drift off to dreamland. All the animals are passed out around me and I can hear Thomas snoring in the bedroom...probably all snuggled up with my body pillow. That's okay, I'll steal it away when I finally decide it's worth an attempt at snoozing.
My next doctor's appointment is on Tuesday, and hopefully we will learn that we are making some sort of progress. Today (I'm saying it's Monday since it's past midnight as I write) marks 37 weeks and 1 day, officially full-term. Any thing beyond today is just bonus growth for Liam...and I'm not sure how I feel about him getting "bonus" days. I don't think he needs bonus days. Especially since he's managed to wedge his feet under both sides of my ribs.
I'm finding ways to pass my downtime. I've pretty much surfed the entire internet, I've played hidden object games and word jumbles (I like the one on the Kindle - added bonus is the bright light Thomas has to contend with) and I'm pretty sure I'm now caught up on any TV episode I could ever have wanted to watch. It would be nice if the weather would cooperate for a few days, drop down into the seventies and I could take a nice long walk (with the hope of starting labor), but no such luck. There is no way I'm venturing outside given the current conditions (plus I think my doctor might kill me). The farthest I manage to go is to my parents' house, just a short 3 minute ride from my own house. Every now and then a girl needs a change of scenery.
Liam likes to bounce around at night more so than during the day. Of course my kid will be a night owl - that's only fair since that's how I operate. I've been a night person for as long as I can remember. Honestly, if a "real day" could be from noon to midnight instead of say 8 to 8, I would be in heaven. My body refuses to accept the fact that just because the sun is up, I should be too. I guess that's why they make alarm clocks...you know I'll be needing mine tomorrow.
My next doctor's appointment is on Tuesday, and hopefully we will learn that we are making some sort of progress. Today (I'm saying it's Monday since it's past midnight as I write) marks 37 weeks and 1 day, officially full-term. Any thing beyond today is just bonus growth for Liam...and I'm not sure how I feel about him getting "bonus" days. I don't think he needs bonus days. Especially since he's managed to wedge his feet under both sides of my ribs.
I'm finding ways to pass my downtime. I've pretty much surfed the entire internet, I've played hidden object games and word jumbles (I like the one on the Kindle - added bonus is the bright light Thomas has to contend with) and I'm pretty sure I'm now caught up on any TV episode I could ever have wanted to watch. It would be nice if the weather would cooperate for a few days, drop down into the seventies and I could take a nice long walk (with the hope of starting labor), but no such luck. There is no way I'm venturing outside given the current conditions (plus I think my doctor might kill me). The farthest I manage to go is to my parents' house, just a short 3 minute ride from my own house. Every now and then a girl needs a change of scenery.
Liam likes to bounce around at night more so than during the day. Of course my kid will be a night owl - that's only fair since that's how I operate. I've been a night person for as long as I can remember. Honestly, if a "real day" could be from noon to midnight instead of say 8 to 8, I would be in heaven. My body refuses to accept the fact that just because the sun is up, I should be too. I guess that's why they make alarm clocks...you know I'll be needing mine tomorrow.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Worn Out Preggo Alert
I'm pretty sick and tired of being sick and tired. I can't sleep at night, and then it takes everything I have to stay awake during the day. I've actually been taking a nap almost every day during my lunch break just so I can continue to function during the day. Thank goodness for work, though. It's been keeping me occupied during the day and makes me focus on things other than being extremely uncomfortable. The sick part hasn't been too bad - it's mainly heartburn and an occasional round of nausea most likely brought on from being repeatedly kicked/kneed/elbowed in the stomach. Pretty sure I'm about to reach my limit, throw in the towel, and all the other sayings that are appropriate for this situation.
I'm trying hard not to complain too much. I'm certainly not the first woman in the world to be pregnant. I'm really just to the point where I'm more frustrated than anything. Even though work keeps me busy, it gets really lonely here at home during the day. Although at least three of the four furry children are always by my side while I'm working (sometimes one furry child, MECO, decides he wants to nap on my laptop), it's just not the same as being in the office and having people to talk to. Being lonely coupled with being uncomfortable plus being so close to the end but not knowing when it is coming is really just becoming too much. I've done fairly good at keeping it together during the pregnancy. I haven't had many mood swings and other than being beyond forgetful and sometimes not being able to use proper grammar or do functional math, I've pretty much "normal". That's recently gone out the window. I'm definitely becoming more emotional...and that's frustrating too because it's not the norm for me.
As I write this, Liam is practicing karate in my belly. Actually, he's just practicing on one side of my belly. One side is sticking out about 2 inches past the other side and he's pushing HARD. He can't have much room left in there to move around. Even though he's head down, he's still very active. I keep reading that the amount of movement decreases as you get closer to the end because they have less room to move around. He still manages just fine to jam his feet under my ribs and punch me with whatever room he has. If anything, I think the movement has gotten a lot stronger. If I miss any part of being pregnant, it will probably be those amazing and reassuring movements I feel throughout the day. Pretty sure I won't miss much else...
I'm trying hard not to complain too much. I'm certainly not the first woman in the world to be pregnant. I'm really just to the point where I'm more frustrated than anything. Even though work keeps me busy, it gets really lonely here at home during the day. Although at least three of the four furry children are always by my side while I'm working (sometimes one furry child, MECO, decides he wants to nap on my laptop), it's just not the same as being in the office and having people to talk to. Being lonely coupled with being uncomfortable plus being so close to the end but not knowing when it is coming is really just becoming too much. I've done fairly good at keeping it together during the pregnancy. I haven't had many mood swings and other than being beyond forgetful and sometimes not being able to use proper grammar or do functional math, I've pretty much "normal". That's recently gone out the window. I'm definitely becoming more emotional...and that's frustrating too because it's not the norm for me.
As I write this, Liam is practicing karate in my belly. Actually, he's just practicing on one side of my belly. One side is sticking out about 2 inches past the other side and he's pushing HARD. He can't have much room left in there to move around. Even though he's head down, he's still very active. I keep reading that the amount of movement decreases as you get closer to the end because they have less room to move around. He still manages just fine to jam his feet under my ribs and punch me with whatever room he has. If anything, I think the movement has gotten a lot stronger. If I miss any part of being pregnant, it will probably be those amazing and reassuring movements I feel throughout the day. Pretty sure I won't miss much else...
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
"Little" Liam
Today we had our ultrasound and it turns out that with still over three weeks to go, little Liam is not so little. He is already checking in right around 7lbs. Assuming he can gain around a half-pound a week, he could easily be a 9lb baby. That being said, the doctor says the best thing to do is let nature take its course and decide when he is supposed to come rather than being induced. Of course, I'm now to the point where I see her once a week so we get to reassess the situation on a pretty frequent basis.
Today was also my first internal exam so they can check to see how I'm progressing. I'm not a big fan of pain, but I'm not a total wimp either. Let's just say that it took everything I had to not jump off the table and go screaming down the hall towards the elevator and never look back. I wasn't quite prepared for how bad it would hurt. Regular "girl exams" are unpleasant and sometimes uncomfortable but not painful. This was ridiculous. Turns out the answer to the progression question is "not at all"...although I have to admit I wasn't really paying attention to what she was saying while it was going on. I did manage to make it through dinner but have pretty much spent the last hour curled up in the fetal position (a little ironic) in bed.
My next appointment is on the 12th...not really looking forward to it anymore. I would like to go back to the pee in the cup, check weight and blood pressure, see the doctor for 2 seconds to make sure everything is going okay visits. I liked those a lot more.
Today was also my first internal exam so they can check to see how I'm progressing. I'm not a big fan of pain, but I'm not a total wimp either. Let's just say that it took everything I had to not jump off the table and go screaming down the hall towards the elevator and never look back. I wasn't quite prepared for how bad it would hurt. Regular "girl exams" are unpleasant and sometimes uncomfortable but not painful. This was ridiculous. Turns out the answer to the progression question is "not at all"...although I have to admit I wasn't really paying attention to what she was saying while it was going on. I did manage to make it through dinner but have pretty much spent the last hour curled up in the fetal position (a little ironic) in bed.
My next appointment is on the 12th...not really looking forward to it anymore. I would like to go back to the pee in the cup, check weight and blood pressure, see the doctor for 2 seconds to make sure everything is going okay visits. I liked those a lot more.
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