Officially Full Term!

As of today, I am 38 weeks pregnant, which is officially full term... not that this has ever mattered for any child of mine.  Both Kate and Savannah went past their due dates by two weeks, so who knows what this kiddo has up his sleeve?

The way these things work is that although you are considered full-term at 38 weeks, the typical gestational age is measured from the date of a woman's last cycle to 40 weeks - and that is what determines the due date.  So even though I could have this baby now, the odds are good I won't for two more weeks.

Bummer.  I think an April Fools baby would be entirely appropriate.  But long baking is good, so we will be patient.

Last appointment was on Friday with Dr. Smith, and she measured me at 38 weeks then - a few days ahead of the curve, which means size and growth are good.  Baby is still head down, which is optimal.  Still pummeling my ribs every now and then, but more actively poking fingers in my bladder and, occasionally, getting a shoulder in places where no shoulder should ever be.

This wouldn't be so bad except it hits a nerve that runs from my groin to my thigh, causing sharp, stabby pain and me to go spastic every time it happens - which makes me a very unreliable dance partner, tightrope walker, or furniture mover.  Ivan and Savannah are doing all the heavy lifting in the house.  The other day at Costco I had to walk with the aid of a shopping cart and I was seriously unsure I'd make it.

Yes, I know I'm pregnant, but I'm not broken.  Or at least, I feel like I shouldn't be!

In other news, I've started having the fun, crampy mini-contractions that signify a body gearing up for the Big Event, but which go away and are not productive at all.  Whee.

I have another appointment on Thursday - because Friday is Good Friday and my clinic is not open - and we will see if I have made any progress whatsoever.  Thursday is coincidentally April Fools.  The doctor will be performing an exam that has, in past experience, given me a few contractions.  Unlikely to be productive, but I can hope!

Thursday is hopefully also the day I pick up my new glasses!  I'm very excited.  I picked them out all by myself.

Oh, and I chopped off all my hair.  Well, most of it.  Like, the back no longer even touches my collar.

If you think you're getting pictures, you're nuts.  I'm pregnant and my face is fluffy.  Does the haircut absolutely no justice - and my stylist spent over 3 hours on it, so I intend to look decent when I show it off.

But it feels so much cooler, and it'll be out of my way when I'm in L&D, and it looks cute.  After getting over the shock of a wife with no hair - since our first date, it's been as long as down to my butt and only ever as short as my shoulders, so this is new for him - Ivan actually said he liked it. 

Wait til I start playing with color again... mwahahaha...

My bag is finally packed, my call list is completed, rooms are starting to take shape, and my carpet cleaner is finally fully functional. 

Now all we need is a baby.

Friday Appointment, 37 Weeks, and I Got My Pound Back.

So I saw Dr. Grillo on Friday for my 36-week checkup and almost all is well... I did regain the pound I'd lost last week, but he reminded me that the baby is growing very quickly now and he is not unhappy with my rate of gain at all.  This was nice to hear because both he and Dr. Haberstroh are reputed to be tough on weight gain.  So now I feel all smug and stuff.

Just to keep me from feeling too good about myself, he had to share with me the fact that I am Strep B positive.  This means that I am a carrier for the bacteria, and while there are no guarantees that I'll pass the bacteria on to Ivan Jr, there are no guarantees that I won't, either... so we are due for a round of antibiotics when I go into labor.  If I don't get the full course in time (4 hours - I had Savannah less than an hour after I was admitted), we are both due for a 48-hour hospital stay, which will be my longest ever. About this I am not thrilled.  I'm not going to mope about it but so far, there are a few other things about my upcoming delivery experience with which I am also not thrilled... the required IV, the required hospital gown and nothing else and worn open down the BACK (which is a real pain when you want to nurse immediately after delivery), and now this.

I will practice serenity.

There are other new and exciting things in our life - like my tendency to suddenly spasm as if I'd been taser'd any time the baby decides to roll a certain way onto a nerve in my groin.  Yep, completely normal... apparently he doesn't have a whole lot of room to do his thing, and since his head is down low, he's got complete control of my legs from time to time just by pressing his head right there.  Dr.  Grillo says, "Heat."  Ivan says, "You're baking the baby!" 

I grit my teeth.

I also am getting no more than two hours' sleep at a time again, which I guess is good preparation for the upcoming event - but it would have been nice to stockpile, to my way of thinking.

And I now have Fred Flintstone feet of an evening.  The other night my right ankle was so swollen it looked sprained.  Kind of alarming. 

Otherwise, I feel good.

We have the cradle in the master bedroom, and the changing pad set up on my dresser, and the diaper caddy loaded and waiting.  We have enough clothes to get us through seeing how big baby Ivan is really going to be, and enough diapers to do the same.  I found the cutest cloth wipes:

And Ivan is busily at work with paint in the nursery.

We have three weeks or so until we're parents.  I keep asking myself where the time went.  I was going to keep a baby journal.  I was going to take belly pictures.  I never really got enthused about either of those.  I was going to write a Dad's Handbook on Pregnancy.  Then I realized there's just too much variety in pregnancy to cover all the bases adequately without having to call it an encyclopedia.

I was going to make my own [insert anything requiring a sewing machine here], but between naps and moving furniture around, my poor machine is still sitting idle.  I think I'm going to take us both to an obedience class after things get settled and I can talk big sisters into babysitting for an hour or so.  I did finish the afghan (documented elsewhere) so I can feel good about that.

Now... we wait.

I hate wait.

36 Weeks, Walkies, and Ivan is Nesting.

Week 35 seemed to fly by for some reason, and I think it's because my appointments are now on Fridays - not on my "traditional" date of  Tuesday, which is when I officially mark another week off on the calendar.  Since appointment day is when I normally do the blog updates, I kinda decided to just wait the four days and do my update today, on the first day of Week 36.

The last appointment was fine - I'm measuring on track, I've actually lost a pound (which I can afford to do), and aside from the usual anemia, my labs are all looking good.  Dr. Haberstroh reassured me that my team is in no hurry; I won't be induced until 42 weeks unless it's obvious that the kiddo is ready and is just stuck.  That eased my mind - I don't want to rush Ivan Jr out of his home, and lots of the women on my pregnancy forum are already talking about their induction dates.  I'm okay with waiting however long our son needs to have mature lungs and eyes, and knowing that my medical team feels the same way is a relief.  I have been so happy with my care here.

So today is Week 36, and I'm not sure I'm ready, either logistically or emotionally.  It's hard to imagine I could be only 2 weeks away from a full-term and healthy delivery.  While we have most of the essentials needed, we still have painting to do in the nursery and the crib to set up.  And furniture to move around.  And... yeah.  Stuff to do.

And yes!  The crib!  I'm so happy about this - the Alexanders and Prescotts got together and bought us the crib, the mattress, mattress pad, and crib sheets... and I can't wait to set it up in the baby's room:

 

From Amazon -
"The Dakota classic crib is the first Graco baby furniture to be eco friendly.  It is certified by the Forest Stewardship Council (FSC). All wooden components are sustainable woods from responsibly managed forests and are certified to the standards of the FSC by the Rainforest Alliance Smart Wood Program. All finishes are water based and packaging is from recycled or recyclable materials."

It means a lot to us to have this particular crib, and because it's a convertible, our kiddo will be sleeping on it for a long time - which means it's also great to have the Sealy mattress we wanted.  Thank you guys so, so much.

We also received a $50 gift certificate for our registry on Amazon from my parents, which I've used to buy the aforementioned Snoogle (still one of the best purchases I've made) and another diaper cover for my stash - very important and useful, thank you so much.

We also have received a practically new playard from our friends Will and Jessie Carlson - a nicer Graco than the one I'd had on our registry!  So awesome to have something I can use in the living room while vacuuming, folding laundry, etc.  I'm not gonna lie, those stairs are kicking my butt right now, and any trip I don't have to make up or down is a good thing to me, particularly with a baby in my arms.  The playard has a bassinet and changing attachment, with a place to keep diapers and wipes.  How cool is that???  I know, it'd be even cooler if I'd thought to take a picture before I made a post, except my camera battery is currently dead.  Next time, I promise.

In other news, Kate called me yesterday with a need to let out some stress, so we took the dogs to the park.  She had Roger run our favorite bike/skate/walking path with her while Kinsey and I followed a bit more sedately.  Yes, I can still do a 1.15 mile circuit, albeit slowly.  Felt pretty empowering.  My legs feel fine today, although my pelvis is on fire - that just tells me I need to do this more often.  Kate has promised to take her mother for walkies at least once a week from here on out.

So we're getting there.  I should mention that I also visited our storage center one rainy day last week and retrieved the cradle that has been passed down by the Beckwiths:



Which will be residing in our bedroom for the first couple of months.   Ivan was going to move it in last night, but I had things piled in it.  He was crestfallen.  It's alright - I have other furniture for him to move first.  And he is in the process of matching bedding swatches to paint chips so we can get the nursery done.  Lots to do, and where did the last nine months go?  How did we get to the end with a frantic need to finish projects we knew needed doing?

But in a way, I like this - it's keeping me busy here and now when it would be too easy to dwell and become impatient and have these last few weeks go soooo slowly.  And we really have done things... getting the van fixed and the carpet cleaner fixed (which isn't; I tried to use it yesterday and it needs to go back to the shop).  Ivan's spent a couple Saturdays with his Habitat for Humanity homebuilding project, and I'm so proud of him for his involvement.  And he's had schoolwork and is really conscientious about his studying.  And still he's managed to get the walls repaired from Savannah's angsty teenage years, and sanded, and taped.  I've decided to let him do his thing with paint;  this way he doesn't contemplate smothering the mother of his child, and I don't hate all his color choices for being too dark.  We managed to compromise when we did the living room, and I love the results, but I've decided it's time for me to let go and just trust his very discerning eye.

It's so neat to watch him gearing up for the arrival of our child.  And to see him looking at my belly in awe and with pride.  And to go through classes and share Ivan Jr's movement and the little things I don't really care for, like only being able to sleep on my right side unless I want to be pummeled by unhappy baby.  And the things I do care for, like... our son loves music.  Vivaldi and Aerosmith.  Music from Opa Peter and from the Beatles.  And he appears to prefer mint chocolate chip ice cream to all others.  I for one am a fan of Rocky Road, but I can eat the green stuff if it keeps him happy.

Life is good.

34 Weeks, and A Plea

Dear Best Husband In The World™:

You have so many admirable qualities.  You never leave dirty socks lying around.  You are so good about emptying your lunch box for me when you come  home.  You carry the vacuum cleaner up and down the stairs for me.  And not only do you put the toilet seat down, you put the lid down too.  This is a great deterrent to the large animals (by which I refer to the dogs and not the children) with whom you reside on my behalf (with great tolerance and fortitude) when they'd prefer to view the toilet as a drinking fountain, and also keeps our chi from flowing out of the house and into the septic tank, where it isn't likely to do us much good.

Sadly, this is a habit that is not as helpful at this point in our lives as it will be again, I hope, in other times... such as when we have an enterprising toddler who might see the toilet as a mini-tub in which to play with his bath toys.

For now, however, as you so cheerfully pointed out in class, my bladder is being used as a trampoline by Child Within.  This is uncomfortable at the best of times, but at the worst of times - which I have begun to consider the hours between 2 AM and 6 AM - this is enough to wake me from a sound sleep with a sense of urgency that propels me to the bathroom.

So far, so good - that is indeed the direction in which I want (and need) to go.  But in my semi-somnolent state, my body is far more awake than my brain, and when I get to the bathroom, all it wants is to relieve the pressure as quickly as possible.  Nothing in the brain is working more efficiently than that urge - including the signal that was supposedly sent to my eyes to tell them to open.  And so I stumble blind into our tiny water closet.

The first time I encountered the lid in its down position, it was a cold, entirely unwelcome shock against my bare and warm-from-the-bed nether parts.  It nearly negated the need for me to lift the lid, but would have created a really big mess.  Fortunately, I had the presence of mind to cross my legs before standing back up and then bending down again to lift.

This does not seem like such a big deal - remember to lift before sitting - but as you know, we live in a house that was designed for Little People.  Okay, I exaggerate - but again as you well know, the original owners were both around 5 feet tall and you and I are not.

Now picture your largely pregnant wife trying to squat sideways to lift that lid (because our water closet dimensions were again, not designed for women closer to 6 feet tall than 5 feet tall, and thus, both my largely pregnant stomach and my almost-as-pregnant ass do not fit well in that space unless turned sideways) while trying desperately to control the urge to relieve my poor abused bladder as it waits for squat, lift, squat, position, and release.  In, please all that is holy and benevolent, that order.

The good thing about my increased posterior dimension is that the one time I had the presence of mind to anticipate the lid being down (it wasn't) and lifted it (in the dark with my eyes closed), and discovered (belatedly) that I'd actually lifted the seat instead... I did not fall in.  And I awoke almost instantly which, if we are trying to be positive, is in some cases good (but not in this one).

So, this letter is designed to be both informative - why the toilet lid does not seem to stay down - and importunate - please understand that I'm not doing this out of laziness, but to save my poor aching knees and overworked bladder - and I hope you will, with your typical aplomb and patience, accept this as just another pregnancy foible that will one day come to an end.

I love you.