WARNING: Before reading on I have decided that the latter of this pregnancy will be referred to as the "angry drunk" phase. My comments are a tad grouchy and definately uninhibited. So, if you are offended, remember, the hormones of pregnancy have made me an angry drunk. Oh this thing we call "creating life ...." hmmmm. I would post a phot of myself as of today, but I am not sure what the max weight limit is on personage posting on the internet and if harpooning via cyberspace is even legalized. Figured I would not take any chances. Just imagine a 5'11" Amazone with girly hair, a pale face (that would be the anemia), and a look of tired disdain on her face. Got that visual? Yep, that's me.
I am the worst at communication when the winter rolls in. We hibernate like a bunch of bears over here! I think this pregnancy (from hell, mind you) has just beaten the wind right out of my sails. Getting BIG is an understatement. Everyone says, “you look great!” but I feel like a tank. Baby is good, despite every scare known to man being thrown our direction this time around. It seemed like for a while every time I went to the ob there was more “bad news”. Here’s a brief recap:
Gestational diabetes – check
Diabetic “rage” episodes – check (basically, my sugar is off, my hormones are off, and Jon gets things thrown at him and then I start to cry)
Chest palpitations – check (on me, not the kid)
Flu/Sinus/Crap – check
Baby is too big for dates (which means I am also to big for dates ... grrrrr!) – check
6 ultrasounds, two high level – check
To much amniotic fluid – check
Protein in the urine – check
Bladder infection – check
2 gall bladder attacks, one ER visit worthy and a demurral shot later – check (no problems EVER with gall bladder until THIS PREGNANCY … they are removing gall bladder after I have this critter)
And the number one, favorite “never ever had before with either of my other pregnancies”, I think I have hemorrhoids – check
As of today I am officially 32 weeks and some days. Docs are “officially” inducing labor at 39 weeks (cause captain fathead is a diabetic “big” baby and is already 4 lbs so they don’t want me to have a toddler … uh-huh) but toying with the idea of a couple weeks sooner than that. The amniotic fluid issue resolved itself, I now take 2 shots of insulin a day, prick my finger 5 times a day to test my blood, and make sure I drink cranberry juice to avoid any more bladder infections. Ultrasound yesterday revealed the following:
The baby has really big feet – check
The baby has a really big head – check
The baby is just really big – check
I think the baby flipped me off – check
The baby has hair – check
The baby is a very PROUD boy - check
On Monday I start to go to the doctor 2 times a week for non stress testing and “checking” on captain fatheads growth pattern. The insulin makes me “bloated” and gain weight so that has been a really happy side effect to which the doctor assures me will come off after I have the baby. Uh-huh. As for captain fathead, he seems to be healthy and happy in his little amniotic environment. I am pretty sure I have internal bleeding because he has ADHD for sure and never stops kicking the hell out of me. He prefers 2 am kicks that literally shake my whole body and wake me up from what little sleep I can get because of the massive insomnia. Oh wait, I forgot, I also have Restless Leg Syndrome now. I am super tired, I lay down in the bed, and my legs want to PARTY, PARTY! Doc says it is a hormone thing and totally normal. Uh-huh. You will REGRET you asked ME for an update!
Honestly, I am in the final stretch and looking forward to being NOT PREGNANT. I finally bought pacifiers the other day (my first actual baby purchase) so I think I am accepting now that we are going to have a baby here in the house. I have organized all the hand me down clothes and he will have no less than 5 total outfit changes (including shoes and hats) every day to accommodate his bulging hand me down pile. He has 2 patriots bibs and 2 red sox bibs, both the same size and style, all from 4 different people. Bunch of weird Yankees and their sports. I am all set on baby blankets (found my stash, so excited!), and Roo is bringing me a car seat and burp rags and bottles. Other than that, I got nothing. I mean NOTHING. We gave it ALL AWAY and THEN found out we were expecting. So, we’re starting from scratch for one kid. Mom volunteered to buy us a crib. Jon himmed and hawed about her offer for a couple days (his male ego), but then got the oil bill and the weather report predicting MORE COLD and said, “okay, the price of oil took my pride away, your Mom is officially AWESOME!” I admit, she is very nice… or she doesn’t want her grandchild sleeping in a drawer. There might be an ulterior motive! Hahah! We are forking out about $700 month for heating oil (*I love NEW ENGLAND!) so we are taking her up on her crib offer! I was really thinking hey, it’s the third kid, he can sleep in a drawer, right? This poor child. Looking at an end of February first part of March delivery.
AND, THAT’S JUST ME … Jon is busier than ever at work, sliding into the home plate on his Masters Degree (yeah!) and basically putting up with his completely nutsy, tired, large as a tank wife. Jon is now the Stake Athletics Director (okay, let’s be h9oenst here, the basketball king of the stake). He just got called and is a little iffy about WHAT they want him to do since there was no program, but he loves all sports so he will get something figured out. He is a SUPER DAD and always makes times to take the boys sledding, watch movies, etc. while mom sleeps, yes sleeps, all the time. Jon leaves for Chicago on Tuesday next week and will be back Thursday or Friday so the kids and I manage without the Dad for a few days. He hates leaving, but it is some special “butt kissing meeting” to which he must show his face and act like he has manners. Whatever he needs to do t okeep the money coming down the pipeline so we can pay for this baby, he’ll be there!
Drew is doing well in his duties as the fourth grade president and has recently decided that Hillary Clinton is the anti-Christ (sans his father’s gentle hints about his own Hillary opinions) and only lesbians and morons voted for her and New Hampshire should be ashamed. I must admit, in our small, but openly lesbian town the lesbians did come out in vast numbers and getting to the voting stations involved passing through some rather large, uni-browed, flannel, rainbow and girl power t-shirts on our local clan of lesbians all supporting Hillary. The subarus were lined up complete with the “day without fairies is a day without magic” bumper stickers and the overwhelming stench of Patchouli and Marijuana filled the air. It was “interesting”, and then Hillary won so now Jon thinks the lesbians have a larger voice here than he originally thought and he is “concerned” for his boy Mitt. Poor Jon. He and Drew share Hillary sucks stories with one another. Drew also officially has a :girlfriend”. Whatever that means when you are 10. She calls the house nightly (hussy) and I have recently had to veto her phone calls to a couple of times a week for 10 minute intervals. Drew is just bored when she calls and says, “uh-huh” a lot. I am NOT ready for these over aggressive females in my son’s life! Let them be kids!!! AUGH!
Bradyn, well, Bradyn has become my birthing partner since Jon is always working. He can now work the Doppler at the ob office and find the babies heartbeat and he squeals at the “penius” when it comes into view on the ultrasound. For the most part he keeps telling me I am getting fatter and fatter and maybe I should not eat anymore or I will get to fat! Poor kid. I think he gave up that there is a baby in there! I have had a lot of Braxton hicks contractions and I will just sort of sit and breathe as the dog comes and sits right at my feet and follows me around and Bradyn says, “okay mom, just breathe through the pain.” Poor kid! His wife will never have babies! He’ll be to wierded out about his own mother’s pregnancy! We have all had the sickies for the last month with one thing or another and we now have the Bishopbric calling to see if we are inactive. Nope, just sick, all the time!
Now, how is YOUR life?!??! I’ll have to be a better blogger and stay in touch more when I get done having my body invaded by the body snatchers. In the final finish … light at the end of my tunnel and darkness at the end of Jon’s as he stares down the barrel of the snip snip doctor. Lucky, lucky Jon.
Love,
cort
SURPRISE BABY SHOWER! 
SURPRISE BABY SHOWER! 
