It's almost "go" time...

Hi Friends,

So tomorrow I will be 36 weeks pregnant. That means one more week until I'm considered "full term" and only four more weeks until my due date. By this time with K, I had my bags packed and waiting by the door, the car seat installed, I was pre-registered at the hospital and had the fastest route possible planned for go time. I was prepared. I was ready to go!

This time around, not so much.

It's not that I don't want to be prepared, and it's not that I'm not thinking about it constantly. I'm just having a hard time with the action piece. D thinks it's because subconsciously I'm not ready to have this baby, so it's my way of putting it off. I'd like to think it's the opposite, the more unprepared I am, the more likely I am to be caught off guard. You know, living on the edge and all that jazz.

In reality, I think I'm stalling because I don't have a solid plan in place this time.

With K I knew how it was all going to go down. I was going to wake up D in the middle of the night with obvious contractions, we would bide our time while we took in the last few minutes as a family of two. D would escort me down to our car (him hauling the bags, me clutching my lower back as I Lamaze-style breathed and waddled to the passenger side of the car). We would arrive at the hospital, where I would waddle inside, take up shop in a delivery room, and work at breathing, and sweating, and chomping on ice cubes, until the Dr. swooped in to tell me it was time to push. A couple minutes of pushing and Voila! K would be here, screaming and crying and cooing in my arms while D beamed over me and I asked him for a big mac or something...

Ha! Ok so anyone who knows K's birth story, knows that that beautiful little soliloquy was not at all how it went down. In fact, it couldn't be further from the truth. But that doesn't change the fact that leading up to his birth day, I felt like I had a handle on this whole labour and delivery thing.

This time, everything is so up in the air. I just can't get to a point where I feel prepared, or ready or even  the slightest bit on top of things. This overwhelming feeling of unpreparedness continues to grow as I get further along in this pregnancy and more and more "ifs" pile on. At first it was as simple as VBAC vs C-section (you can read about that here), then we added on GD (you can read about that here), now today we've added a potentially breech baby to the list of complicating factors. Gah. While I'm not counting myself out for a VBAC just yet, I've come to terms with the fact that a C-section is looking more and more likely.

While neither option will drastically change what goes into those "go time" bags, it's the lack of knowing that's hindering my ability to get my shit together (although today I DID throw my pre-registration form in the mail). I'm hoping the slew of appointments I have next week will help me nail down some sort of game plan so I can get this bag-packing show on the road. But until then, I guess I'll just sit here on the couch, staring at my empty bags, blogging away while watching mindless TV and hoping that baby girl doesn't spring an early arrival on us (although that would make for a good post, and would eliminate the need to worry about all the little details... haha).

Until next time my friends,

-A

36 weeks tomorrow!

A little snapshot from Mother's Day

Enjoying my surprise shower last weekend!

Flipping and Flopping

Hi Friends,

Now that the big day is quickly drawing near (42 days until my due date, but only 20 until I'm full term), I can't help but feel that twinge of panic building in the pit of my stomach. While I've flip-flopped between excitement and terror throughout the entire pregnancy, I'm finding the last couple days have been more flipping (out) and less flopping (back in my easy chair). With the big question on my mind being, what have we done?!

This morning as I wrote D's schedule on the calendar for his upcoming paeds rotation two things really struck a chord; 1) I'll be full term in three weeks and 2) I will deliver this baby before he's done this next rotation.

Eeek.

I will, in part, blame my sudden panic on my GD, although I'm well aware that all mums experience this to some extent as the days dwindle. I'm choosing to blame my GD because since getting my sugars in check, I have been feeling fabulous! Almost tooo good. In fact, I think I could handle keeping little lady on the inside for a few more months, I mean... what's the rush?

I think humans have evolved in a way to make pregnant ladies struggle with so much discomfort at the end of pregnancy to lessen their fear of the inevitable. By 39 weeks, most people are so flippin' large and gassy and achy and uncomfortable, that they would do just about anything to get the baby out. It's hard to appreciate the daunting-ness of motherhood when all you can think about is how you are unable to breath, and how your ankles have disappeared all together (along with your toes and vagina).

With K, this incredible discomfort started around 31 weeks and was with me until the end (39w1d). While it looked like this would be the case with baby number 2, I must say that since starting my GD diet, I have had more energy and a spring in my step that hasn't been there since before getting pregnant. I was telling D last night, that if it wasn't for the large, bulbous protrusion on my front, I don't think I would feel pregnant at all. Whereas, three weeks ago I would have paid millions for someone to hurry along the last two months. It's the strangest thing.

Now, some people reading this are probably thinking, that sounds amazing, tell me again why feeling great is such a bad thing?   

It's a bad (maybe bad isn't the right word, let's say nerve wracking) thing because, there is the potential that, in just over three weeks I could be responsible for keeping not one, but two tiny humans alive.  And the pain, exhaustion and frustration that will inevitably come along with that fact seems exponentially worse than the way I'm feeling at this moment (as I relax with my coffee on the couch during K's nap time).

It also doesn't help that the last few days K has been uber snugly, but at the same time super volatile,  wanting to be rocked before nap time and bedtime but not wanting D to come near him. It's like he knows what's coming and is trying to soak up every last moment with me before this new addition arrives. Kind of like how a dog knows when a storm is coming and gets all clingy and unsettled (and inevitably ends up hiding under the bed).

Did I really just compare my toddler to a puppy? I suppose I did... that's ok right?! I mean, they're both cute and adorable and, if left to their own devices, can completely dismantle your house in under 5 minutes. What was my point again?

Oh right, K is adding to my nervousness, because it's like he senses a storm, and I predict that that's exactly how the first few weeks with little lady will be. One giant hurricane of stitches and bleeding and laxatives and crying and cracked nipples and nighttime feedings and diaper changes and toddler tantrums and sleepless nights and sleepless days and oh man. I need to stop.

Deep breath (well three shallow breaths, as one "deep" one isn't really possible at the moment).

Writing this all out, I feel a flop coming on. This is exciting. Wait for it...

It's possible that in just over 3 weeks we could welcome the most perfect, beautiful little addition to our family. While the nights (and days) may will be long, they will be full of laughter; and happy tears; and introductions to family and friends; and big brother firsts; and warm, sunny walks; and an ability for my lungs to fully expand when I breath; and guilt-free consumption of ice-cream...

I'm so excited! Baby R will be here so soon, and I can't wait for you all to meet her!

And there you have it, a brief glance into the hormonally charged mind of someone who's 34 weeks pregnant. Scary huh?

Until next time my friends,

-A

Still agile enough to snap a candid shot of my nephew
(while K makes a break for it... dammit).