Thursday Things: Fear vs. Confidence in Motherhood and Myself

Before I had kids, I was pretty fearless. I was always up for trying new things. When Daniel purchased his first motorcycle when we were still dating, I didn't bat an eye. But once I had kids, fear wormed its way into my head and made itself comfortable.

In those early years when Jack was a newborn, I was afraid a lot. Would this little baby that I had been entrusted with survive? There seemed to be things lurking at every turn and I found myself awake during many nights just worrying.

When Jack was around the age of one, Daniel and I started biking pretty regularly again, taking Jack with us. One of our favorite places to explore was the Hays Nature Preserve in Huntsville. It has great paved trails and you can also explore some dirt tracks that aren't too difficult.

Jack loved his time on the back of Daniel's bike, and Daniel and I enjoyed getting to do one of our hobbies again. On one of those rides with Jack, Daniel found a trail that had a rocky descent. I don't think that it was particularly steep or long, but as I stood at the top I experienced a serious mental block.

When I first started biking as an adult it was mostly on mountain bike trails. I had great confidence speeding through the woods in an effort to keep up with Daniel, riding over roots, knolls and around tight turns. I had no fear then. But that day in the woods with our toddler, I could not, for the life of me, muster the courage to ride down. In shame, I got off my bike and walked...

About a year ago Daniel and I had the opportunity to sneak off and ride our mountain bikes, just the two of us. It was the first time I had been on my bike since being pregnant with Isaac. It had been raining and the trails were muddy, but we were undeterred in our effort to find the right trail out to Edward's Point. We didn't find Edward's Point that day (we ran out of daylight), but I did tackle some really difficult terrain. Over big rocks and logs and down some pretty steep sections. We were both covered in mud when we finished, but I don't think that either of us fell off our bikes!

I'm not sure what happened between that day in Huntsville 3+ years ago and the day last year, but fear is no longer controlling me. At least not when it comes to mountain biking!

I have been more willing to try other things as well. Maybe it is confidence in being in better shape but this ability to be confident instead of afraid of hurting myself has manifested in other ways as well. I have been going to yoga once a week over the last couple of months and when we have the opportunity to try harder moves, I always try the harder variation.

I have surprised myself by feeling comfortable flipping my dog (or wild thing) and also being able to do a wheel. I would have been too afraid that I was going to hurt myself in the past. Today in bootcamp I was jumping rope and it crossed my mind that I could do some pretty cool moves with a jump rope when I was about ten years old. So during my 60-second interval with the rope, I tried crossing my arms. The first time I hit myself with the rope, but I tried again. And my body remembered! It felt good to try to do something I used to be able to do. And I did it again, and again.

I am constantly reminding my kids to get back up, shake it off and try again. Whether walking or riding a bike. I want them to keep trying. And I want that for myself too. I hope I never stand at the top of a hill and let my fear take away the joy I might get from accomplishing something. I hope I have the courage to remind myself that it is ok to fall sometimes (or hit myself with the rope) and that I just need to get back up and try again.

On My Mind: Words Matter, but so does Perspective

My blog has been a place to document my life for almost 10 years now! Sometimes it includes reviews, sometimes it is just me rambling about various topics. Often it is an open journal of my life, which heavily involves my family. I also try to touch on important current events, especially when they hit close to home. I think I do this because I want my kids to be able to look back and have an understanding of the world we live in, and what was transpiring during their lifetime. Right now I feel like our world is more broken than it has been in a long time, and the brokenness is showing up closer and closer to home. So here is some of what has been on my mind lately...

When Daniel and I were first married, like most newlyweds, we experienced a crash course in communication. About two years into our young marriage we decided to purchase our first home. We intentionally picked a fixer upper, that we immediately gutted and spent five years rebuilding together. Several people told us we would get divorced over this project...

Obviously we are not divorced, but that house did not come without trials. Truthfully we fought a lot about decisions in that home. We like to joke that this was the house that taught us how to fight. And also how to let things go, and agree to disagree.

The moment I remember most vividly had to do with our basement renovation. We would have long discussions where we would dream together about what we would do to our basement. We were very specific in our discussions. Very specific. And then the time came to actually do the work.

We walked downstairs and had one of the biggest fights of our marriage. We were on the same page after all, having talked in great detail. BUT. It turned out that when I was talking about a south wall, Daniel was talking about a north wall. Our visions were completely opposite. And while we had talked it out and AGREED on what we were doing, we weren't even remotely close to being on the same page.

It was a valuable lesson.

Once we figured out how off our "agreement" was, we sat down and literally drew out our ideas on paper and discussed (fought) and discussed some more until we came to a real agreement. A true agreement, where we were both not only heard but actually understood the other person.

These days if we are working on something and our words don't seem to be getting through, sometimes we go back to the drawing board. Literally. We have to be on the same page and know that we have the same vision in an effort to move forward.

In my opinion, so many things that are happening in our country right now can be traced back to a similar type of problem (whether political or pertaining to race relations in our communities). We may be talking about the same issues, and even hearing what is being said. But sometimes there is a complete lack of understanding because we don't have the same perspective. 

I recently read an article (Race, Truth and Our Two Realities) that gives incite into how the correspondence theory of truth impacts race discussions in America. We are at a crossroads where discussions are happening, but it is like the people taking part in the discussions are standing with their backs to each other, looking in opposite directions. The past, along with one's personal experiences and expectations about the future, all define one's perspective, and if those things are different (which they inevitably are), a conversation might not actually yield any kind of change.

I don't have answers. I find that difficult subjects are best talked out in person, with maybe a drawing board to get you where you need to go. Shouting on the internet, or in forums where you can't really be heard does not solve anything. 

I hope that at the very least we are raising our boys to be respectful and loving to everyone they meet. And to also understand that every single person in this world has experiences that determine how they perceive the world and live out their lives. Period. That is just reality and we need to be willing to listen with an effort to try to understand one other if there is ever to be any kind of change or reconciliation.

Love does no harm to a neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law. Romans 13:10

#orlando

Like the rest of the country, I am in shock and deeply saddened by the mass shooting that happened in Orlando early Sunday morning. When there were attacks in Paris last November, it was shocking but it felt far away. When Belgium was bombed in March, it felt a bit closer to home because I had a cousin spending a semester there. Orlando brings terror a little too close to home for me. Much like the shootings in Chattanooga did last summer. 

So, I am doing the only thing I know to do. I am praying for peace and comfort for the families who lost loved ones. I am praying for those who were spared, and those who feel the guilt of "why not me?" I am praying for our divided nation, and I am going to show love and respect to everyone I meet. I am also going to go on living my life because living trapped in fear is not really living.

#noogastrong

It feels like my brain has turned to mush. The last three months of waking up with Isaac during the night have definitely taken a toll. Until I get to regularly sleep through the night again, and my brain returns to normal, I will just keep doing my best to piece my thoughts together...

Last Thursday was a frightening day. The older I get, the more experiences I have that fill me with fear. Evil abounds in this world and these instances remind me that this world is not my home.

I remember how horrifying it was to watch the September 11 attacks, live on television, from my university student center. More recently I remember the shock of hearing about the Boston Marathon attack. I never expected to be so close to such an attack.

I normally listen to the radio while I am in the car, but for some reason I had turned it off on the way to my boot camp class at the Y. I believe I was having a conversation with Jack about why we obey the laws while driving. 

When I arrived at the Y, my boot camp instructor was running around asking about keys. I just assumed she needed keys to unlock the closet where the weights are stored. When she came into the gym, she informed us all that the doors were all locked and that our kids were safe. I thought that was an odd statement but I assumed she was making sure the doors were locked so the kids couldn't sneak out. I had no idea that a sinister event was playing out in Chattanooga.

There were only a handful of people at the work out. I assumed that everyone was on vacation or just skipping. At the end of class I checked my phone and saw that I had several messages from my dad. In the middle of the day... which was odd. Then my instructor started to say something about an active shooter. Wait, WHAT? It was then that things started to click in my brain.

There was an active shooter. At the Riverpark. And he had not yet been stopped.

My dad called again and I let him know that we were ok, that I was collecting the boys and we were heading home. I told Jack that we couldn't stay and play on the playground like we usually did. He wanted to know why. So I revisited our earlier conversation about obeying the laws, telling him that someone was not obeying the laws and we needed to go home to be safe.

I quickly got the boys in the car and started driving. I called Daniel to make sure he had heard the news. He works an hour north of town so I knew he was ok. We drove home and I turned on the radio to listen to the news live. The shooter had been stopped. People were on lockdown. People had died. I silently wept and prayed as I drove.

Once home Jack wanted to make cookies. He had been asking for a couple of days to make cookies and I knew that was what we needed to do. He doesn't know that the world has evil in it. He didn't know, nor could he comprehend, what had just happened. So we continued with life. Business as usual. The business of a mom and her 3-year-old making cookies. The day felt very surreal. It still does. Did that really happen in our city? 

I am so proud of the men and women who rushed to help. The first responders that worked to stop and contain the situation. I felt like everyone was calm and collected and did what needed to be done. Since the event I continue to hear stories like how two marines helped get people to safety before returning to search for others and ultimately getting shot. They are heroes. The police officer that ran toward the shooting, to help. He is a hero. Five men lost their lives in this terrorist attack in the city I call home.

The people of Chattanooga have pulled together in a way that makes me proud to live here. Proud to be an American citizen. People are choosing to continue living their lives. I know that shock still permeates our city, but by and large it seems like the people who live here are choosing to be #noogastrong and not allowing the events of last week take anything from them. 

I continue to pray for the families that lost loved ones during this tragic incident.

Parenting: Getting Over My Fear of Water

Growing up, I spent a lot of time around water. From swimming in the Pacific Ocean to swimming in pools, lakes and creeks. I taught myself how to swim at a young age and loved every moment.

At some point that love disappeared. Well, that's not entirely true. I still love water, but I hate to be in a swimsuit. Maybe it happened in college when I gained my freshman 15+, but I quit swimming. Daniel and I would take trips to the beach and we would bike, comb the beach or kayak, but we rarely got in the water

Then Jack came along and I felt like a change was needed. It wasn't fair to keep Jack from experiencing the joy of the water just because I don't like to wear swimsuits. 

Another issue is that with kids has come a fear of water that didn't exist before. I read articles about kids drowning or secondary drowning and I want to stay far, far away from water. Then there is the fact that I have fair-skinned kiddos... I think about the sun reflecting off the water and the fear of skin cancer creeps into mind mind and again, I just want to stay far, far away.

But the truth is, being a parent brings its share of fears and I can't let those fears deter me from letting my kids experience life to its fullest. So while last summer we only went to the pool twice, this summer I am determined to take my kids more regularly.

Yesterday our small group from church kicked off the summer with a pool party. Daniel and I have two of the youngest kids in our group. Thankfully Daniel was there to help me juggle Jack and Isaac. He spent the whole time in the pool with Jack and Jack loved it. I got in with Isaac for a bit and he was a bit more ambivalent about the experience.

I got teased for having my kids covered in long-sleeve rash guards and hats – not much skin exposed. But to be fair, I had forgotten our sunblock and even though it was after 4pm, I didn't want my kids to get burnt. 

Daniel and I are pretty laid back parents, but pools are one of the few places I am going to have to work on being more relaxed, while also being super watchful.

Here's to a safe summer spent with more time in the water.

Team Green

Have you ever heard of Team Green? I hadn't. Basically it's a term that has been coined to describe people that choose to wait until birth to find out the gender of their child.

For Daniel and I, choosing to wait to find out Isaac's gender just kind of happened. It started when I was sent to the high-risk OB appointment at 12 weeks. While we anxiously waited to learn what was going on with our baby, the high-risk OB casually asked if we wanted to find out the sex of our baby. 

I was caught off guard by the question, surprised that we could find out the gender so early. At the time I made the split second decision to wait. Truthfully, I was still trying to grasp the fact that our baby was OK and that I wasn't going to miscarry. I think that with all of the anxiety of this pregnancy I just wanted something to look forward to, and a surprise gender seemed to fulfill that need. Thankfully Daniel agreed.

At our 19 week ultrasound, we once again agreed that we would wait to find out the gender until birth. We did ask the ultrasound tech to give us the gender ultrasound in a sealed envelope in case we changed our minds (which we didn't). Daniel put the envelope in his backpack and never opened it. Ironically we still haven't looked at that sealed ultrasound to confirm whether the gender was correct!

Over Christmas many of our family weighed in on the gender. Friends also gave us their opinions. The guesses leaned heavily towards girl. During the entire pregnancy I never did have a strong feeling one way or the other – though Jack was certain he was getting a brother.

The reactions we got from people really varied when they found out we were waiting. Everyone I knew (that had waited to find out gender) would tell us that it was one of the best surprises they ever had. Other people told us that they could never wait to find out, that there was too much to plan. The funniest reactions came from complete strangers – like the different check-out girls at various grocery stores that were appalled that I was choosing to wait. I mean, why would you wait when you could be out shopping for your little one? Why wait when there is technology to tell you the sex as early as 12 weeks?

Anyways, we stuck to our guns and continued to wait. This became more difficult when I had pre-term labor at 30 weeks. Following my hospital stay I had weekly ultrasounds and every time Daniel and I would remind the ultrasound tech that we didn't know the sex, then we would turn our heads away from the screen. Every week for 10 weeks, we looked away from the ultrasound. We were seriously committed to being Team Green.

When we went to the hospital for an induction, my nurse asked what I was having. When I said that we didn't know, she excitedly said that it would be a special treat for us and that the delivery team is always excited to be a part of the surprise. It's funny how things don't always go as you expect...

When I was rushed to the OR for an emergency C-section, only 3 hours after starting my induction, no one was thinking about the gender. They were focused on getting our baby out and cauterizing the bleeding in my womb. 

Daniel watched as our baby was lifted out of me and quietly said, "It's a boy." There was no fan fare, no excitement. I could barely keep my eyes open. Team Green revealed that we were actually Team Blue and all I could think about was how thirsty I was.

I had waited 9 months for this surprise. I had told countless people that I didn't care if we had a boy or girl, as long as our baby was healthy. And when all was said and done, I really didn't care. I was thrilled that 9 months of anxiety and fear; of weekly appointments to make sure our baby was doing well, had culminated in a healthy baby. Sure a small part of me was a little sad that I wouldn't have a mini-me running around, but I am thrilled that Jack got the brother that he had been so sure he was getting. I look forward to raising our boys. And overall, the fact that our newest little boy and I are both home and healthy is something to be celebrated – even if we didn't celebrate in the hospital the way I had envisioned that we would.

Isaac's Birth Story

It's been one week since Isaac came into the world and in some ways I am still wrapping my head around how everything went. All pregnancies and births are different, and I don't think you can ever be fully prepared for how things will turn out. This experience was no exception.

We went to the hospital at midnight before our due date for a scheduled induction. Our baby was measuring big with a big head and we didn't want to take a chance of me having to deliver a really big head again (with Jack, it required a vacuum). Also there were the risk factors associated with having polyhdramnios – namely placental abruption and cord prolapse. Both of these risks are associated with your water breaking. With so much extra amniotic fluid in the uterus, there is an increased risk of the cord falling out before the baby is born (cord prolapse) or the placenta tearing away from the uterus (placental abruption). Both of which can be bad news for the baby and mother.

We arrived at the hospital shortly after midnight – we stopped on the way for some snacks. I ate a Twix bar as we drove up the hospital. We signed in at the front desk and waited for them to call us upstairs. Around 12:30am we were told that we could to go up.

Our nurse greeted us at the doors to Labor and Delivery. We noticed that the satellite hospital we were delivering at now had a NICU and we inquired about it. The lack of a NICU had been one of our initial concerns about delivering at Women's East instead of downtown. For a variety of reasons we stuck with East (Jack was also delivered at this hospital), so it was a relief to learn they officially had a NICU (just in case things didn't go as planned).

After signing more papers and discussing the induction process, my nurse gave me a gown and I hopped into bed to get things started. Around 1am, she finally started to slowly turn on the pitocin drip. Initially things were going fine. I had come in with contractions (that weren't painful) but was still only 2cm. We hoped my body would kick in on its own and the pitocin would be a minor part of this delivery.

After 10 minutes the nurse came back in to turn my pitocin up to a 6 (I think we started at 4, though I'm not entirely sure what those numbers mean). Almost immediately I started to get unbearable contractions. The kind where you feel like you are going to die. My nurse told me she would be back shortly and almost as soon as she walked out of the room my water broke.

I thought of the risks associated with your water breaking and immediately told Daniel to call the nurse. The water was gushing and the contractions were coming in waves without a break (very similar to my contractions with Jack after my water broke).

My nurse checked me and said I was already dilated to 5cm and I said I wanted an epidural as soon as possible. The contractions kept coming and the water kept coming. Another nurse came back in the room and they mentioned that there was meconium in the water. 

Pretty soon the anesthesiologist was in the room. I made the mental note that he was the same person that had done my epidural with Jack. Between contractions he inserted the catheter and Daniel held my shoulders still while I tried not to move or cry. As soon as my legs were numb, the nurse mentioned that she was having a difficult time finding a heart beat for the baby.

Sometime during this process, my doctor had been called and the NICU had been called because of the meconium. My legs were numb but I continued to feel the contractions. My doctor checked me between waves of pain and I was already dilated to 8cm and things had only been happening for about 2 hours. The pitocin had been stopped since my body was doing the work on its own.

After getting checked my doctor mentioned that there was blood in the water that was gushing out and she was concerned about a placental abruption. During this time the nurses were turning me from side to side trying to find the baby's heart beat. As the minutes ticked by, my doctor made the decision that for the safety of the baby and me we needed to go to the OR. During this period my anesthesiologist never had time to leave my room.

They immediately began prepping me for surgery and quickly explained to us what to expect. I asked if Daniel could come give me a kiss before we went to the OR. Then I started praying that things would go smoothly. Before I knew it, I was being whisked down the hallway to the OR.

The room was so bright with white walls and huge white lights. Somewhere in the background music was playing. The OR filled up quickly and it felt like only a few minutes before the cloths were draped and Daniel was sitting beside me again.

My drugs were pretty strong. My arms were numb and I could barely hold my eyes open so I lay there and just drifted. I was afraid to fall asleep. Daniel held my hand and I opened my eyes to see that he had stood up to watch the surgery proceed over the top of the blanket. He watched the entire process.

Within a few minutes our baby was out and Daniel said, "It's a boy." Shortly after, our boy started crying. He cried quite a bit and then they gave him to Daniel. He was born at 4:16am, weighed 6pounds 12 oz (like his big brother), was 20.25inches long and had dark blue eyes. His apgar scores were 6 and 8.

At this point I was shaking uncontrollably from the drugs. My arms where out to my sides and they began to ache at the shoulders. Every once in awhile I felt like I couldn't catch my breath and the anesthesiologist would tell me I was fine and that my oxygen levels were still at 100%.

I looked at our son, but was still having trouble focusing so Daniel continued to hold him. I started pitocin around 1am and our boy was born at 4:16am. It was all such an unexpected whirlwhind. It took another 20+ minutes to stitch me up and then we were off to recovery.

I continued to shake and I have never felt so thirsty in my life. Before we left the OR the anesthesiologist took pity on me and had squeezed water from a wash cloth into my parched mouth. I am so grateful that he did that for me. It was another hour before I was allowed ice chips. While we waited in recovery, they covered me with warm blankets to help with the shaking and put compression boots on my legs to prevent blood clots (I am at a higher risk for due to a blood clot 7 years ago).

The boots were very confusing at first because I didn't know they were on my legs. As feeling returned to me body, my legs would alternately start tingling. The nurses eventually noticed my confusion and let me know that the boots were making my legs tingle.

While in recovery I finally felt like I could use my arms enough to hold our baby. He immediately started nursing with very little help from me. We actually stayed in recovery for over an hour while he nursed heartily.

I think it was around 6am when they wheeled us back to my room. The delivery table was in the hallway outside my door. Whether vaginally or a c-section I was definitely having a baby before morning. Daniel later told me that the plan was to let me push if I was fully dilated when we reached the OR, but in the end my doctor decided that the c-section was the safest delivery for me and our baby.

I am thankful for my doctor's quick thinking and that the surgery went so well. Back in my room they told me that I should get up and walk as soon as I could. I was able to sit in a chair later that afternoon.

I only stayed in the hospital about 2.5 days. We are home and recovering now. I can't drive for 2 weeks and am focusing on healing. It is hard to not over do it. For recovery you are supposed to get up and walk, while also resting as much as possible. Overall I feel pretty decent for having major surgery a week ago. I am confident that working out throughout my pregnancy has made recovery easier. 

Read Jack's Birth Story here.

Baby Update: 40 Weeks, Induction on Horizon

Reading back over the account of my last days being pregnant with Jack is eerily familiar. This week I have fielded a lot of questions about my due date, followed by looks of surprise when I say Saturday. Not only is it my due date, but this baby is definitely coming then since we are choosing to induce due to head size. I still haven't quite wrapped my mind around the fact that we will be a family of four by the end of this weekend.

It really hit home when my sister texted me saying she had sent me a package for my "kids." Up until that text I hadn't really thought much about kids in the plural.

On Wednesday I got a pedicure in hopes of jump starting labor. Or maybe I was just desperate since I can no longer reach my toenails. The guy working on my feet was nervous that my due date is so soon.

Then last night I had an irrational moment of worry that I would actually go into labor and miss Jack's first preschool music program. Thankfully baby stayed put – though I would be fine going into labor any time now.

I made it to the Y three days this week in the hopes that I might go into labor on my own before my induction. Today was the first day I had to walk out of a class to take a breather because of a painful stitch in my side – I think I freaked some people out. Thankfully I was able to finish the class but the OB appointment I went to afterward showed no change from last week – I'm still 2cm dilated and 80% effaced. 
 
At the OB appointment we also learned that our baby is still growing and is currently measuring 8lbs give or take half a pound. My amniotic fluid is also back up in the high-risk category at 26cm. This explains the increase in my Braxton Hicks the last couple of days. Before we left my OB appointment, they put me on a fetal heartrate monitor. Of course I had only 2 tiny contractions while I laid there. As soon as we left, my Braxton Hicks went into overdrive. Have I mentioned that I'm ready to be done?

It is surreal to be finalizing plans for the weekend – who will watch Jack, what our game plan is if I go into labor in the middle of the night, that type of thing. I'm so glad we squeezed in our canoe trip on Sunday, I really needed those last moments with my family of three. We are in countdown mode now, in just over 24 hours we check into the hospital to start the process of meeting our new little one (unless I go into labor sooner).

Baby #2, almost 40 Weeks

 

Comparison: 40 Weeks Pregnant with Jack

Baby Update: 39 Weeks (10 Days To Go)

Daniel stayed home from work today so that he could go to the OB with me. We are in the final stages after all. Jack is soaking up the extra time with his daddy – as I write this, they are outside changing a battery in a car with plans to wash all of the cars next.

I am still wrapping my head around the fact that we only have 10 days (at the most) before Baby#2 joins us. This past weekend Daniel and I finally committed to working on our list of names. We have narrowed it to 28 girl names and 22 boy names. We obviously need help... I think we are hoping we will just "know" when we see our sweet baby for the first time.

I am currently 2cm dilated and 80% effaced and the baby has dropped. I was fairly certain it must have dropped this past week because I can breathe and eat again and don't feel quite so miserable. My amniotic fluid is staying at a reasonable 22.5cm – so lower risks! I did lose 4 pounds this week. I am assuming that is water loss since I am barely swollen this week.

Over the weekend I experienced a horrific sinus headache that lasted 3 days. I thought my cheeks were going to explode. I am glad that has passed, but with allergy season upon, I may need to invest in a neti pot.

I have been more apprehensive lately as the time draws closer for this baby to come. With Jack, my water broke and I immediately knew that I was in labor. With my miscarriage, it was a similar experience, there was a moment when it was abundantly clear that things were going to start happening. With this labor, I have had a lot more uncertainty. I still get regular Braxton Hicks contractions – my stomach gets incredibly hard and uncomfortable and then 30 seconds later it stops. This has gone on for so long, I feel like I won't know when the time is real. 

I haven't done this list for this pregnancy, but here are a few of my numbers this time around:

368 prenatal vitamins swallowed.

203 shots in my stomach. 

91 baby names reduced to 50 (we only need 2).

62 bootcamp classes completed.

31 pump (weight lifting) classes completed.

24 piyo classes completed.

23 pounds gained.

22 OB visits checked off.  

14 ultrasounds.

10 Braxton Hicks contractions experienced on average every day.

10 days until our due date/induction. 

8 gender-neutral outfits purchased.

7.5+ pounds is approximately what Baby#2 weighs right now. 
5 pillows needed for sleeping.

2 nights in the hospital for pre-term labor.

1 crib, 1 rock 'n play and 1 carseat dug out of the basement and assembled.

1 final OB appointment and ultrasound scheduled for next week.

0 books read or classes attended pertaining to birth or parenting.

Baby #2, almost 39 Weeks

Comparison: 39 Weeks Pregnant with Jack

Baby Update: 38 Weeks, Homestretch

At my weekly ultrasound and OB visit I learned that Baby#2 is currently measuring 7lbs 1oz (give or take half a pound) and has a large head. In addition, my amniotic fluid is 24cm this week (last week it was 25cm). The biggest concern right now is the baby's size, specifically the head. Jack had a big head and my OB had to use a vacuum to help deliver him. If this baby's head is already bigger, well, we don't want to wait too long to deliver.

The current plan is that we are going to induce on the baby's due date (April 18) but if I go into labor naturally, then that is all the better. It is kind of surreal to know that, at the most, we only have about 2 weeks before we meet Baby#2. Considering I have had continual Braxton Hicks since the 20 week mark I'm not sure what real contractions are going to feel like. My OB says that I will know. I hope so. I am currently 1.5cm dilated and 70% effaced, but it can take awhile to get to 4cm and there is no telling how long that will take. I'm praying that labor starts on its own before the due date rolls around. Jack came on a full moon, so maybe we will get lucky again?

My blood pressure continues to be low and swelling in my feet and legs, while existent, isn't too terrible. My twice-a-day Heparin shots leave painful welts under my skin which makes me more than ready to be done with this pregnancy. At the same time it is kind of hard to wrap my mind around the fact that a newborn will be here soon.

Daniel has been working long hours to wrap up some things before baby arrives, so we have been trying our best to make sure both of us spend as much quality time with Jack as we can. I know things are going to change and I want him to still feel like he is important. Thankfully the weather has been nice so we are spending lots of time at the playground.

Every night Jack prays the following prayer: 
Dear God, 
Thank your for this day.
Thank you for Mommy's baby, Jack's baby, and Daddy's baby.
Thank you for my friends.
Amen.

The best pregnancy comment from a stranger goes to the girl working the Dunkin Donuts drive through the other day: "Oh girl, you are glowing!" I was expecting the more typical, "You're huge!" or "Are you past your due date?" comments. This sweet girl's comment made my day.

Some friends and I were recently sharing our labor stories, which progressed to thinking about our "last" meals before labor and our "first" meal after delivery. This morphed into planning my last meal before I go to the hospital... got to make it a good one. With Jack we were grilling steaks when my water broke and I'm pretty sure my first post-baby meal was a piece of banana bread and a latte from Starbucks. Speaking of food, I feel famished all the time these days.
 

Baby #2, almost 38 Weeks

Comparison: 38 Weeks Pregnant with Jack

Overall speculation on gender continues to be girl, with a few holdouts for boy. Overall this has been a more difficult pregnancy, but in both pregnancies I have only gained weight in my belly, but that could be due to working out. I guess we will find out soon enough – I still don't have a clue!