This is a long OVERDUE post that isn’t pregnancy related.
Don’t faint.
I have neglected the blog because, well, it’s not my priority. I don’t monetize my blog. I’ve never gotten anything free or made any money blogging. My blog is not my job. It is something I do for ME. My kids and my house are my my job and they are FULL TIME.
I find myself seeking balance. Looking for pause and reflection. This seems to be happening more and more and I suspect it has to do with growing new life. I’m past the mid point of pregnancy (I guess unless Max decides to cook to 43 weeks. Unlikely.) I can’t forget I’m pregnant for the huge belly but if it weren’t for that and the kicks I’d probably have to be reminded. Life with four kids is so incredibly busy. Like super super busy.
Busy.
Ella has been teething and sick and sick and teething. And not sleeping. But also: Walking. Running. Talking. Demanding my CONSTANT attention.
I find myself asking my 13 year old multiple times a day either 1. Who he is texting or 2. Who he is on the phone with. This is both maddening and exhausting. And a little bit exciting seeing him come into his own. Also he has straight A’s so there’s that.
Raising a 16 year old daughter challenges me unlike I’d ever expected. I thought she was a hard baby. Yeah. I’d rather do that again. I mean the head shaking. The sighing. The plugging of ears. God I love that kid. I do. No REALLY I DO. She’s trying to grow up. And sometimes trying to make me a little crazy.
My 11 year old is thankfully the one kid who doesn’t want to talk back, bicker, snot mouth, ignore etc. He does his chores quietly and with little nudging. Now if only I could get him to stop leaving underwear on the floor. Next year he’ll be in junior high. And that makes me a little weak in the knees.
In any case you can see how this would get a little, eh hectic, on a day to day type basis. If I blog I can’t sew and if I sew I can’t blog and if I crochet or knit I can’t blog or sew and if I clean and cook and bake I can’t crochet or blog or knit OR sew. And if I manage to get all the laundry done I probably can’t do any of those things. Oh and there’s all my twitter friends, which are almost my only friends. And I’m finding that those lines are being crossed too where my twitter friends are becoming my REAL friends or vice versa so I don’t ever want to ignore these relationships either. And somewhere in there I have to mother these people and be a wife-y type person too and do it while my husband is gone half the week. So you know.
Busy.
I’ve found, for my own PERSONAL brand of sanity, that I *really* need to do a little of all of those things. I NEED a clean house but I also NEED to sew and I NEED to knit ANd crochet AND cook and I am happiest when I am successful at all of that PLUS being a decent mother and wife. Or trying anyway.
And then there are days (weeks, MONTHS even) where people are sick or teething or just needy and I go days without ever spending time on MY sanity. And I start to feel a little, well, insane. And I usually cry. Sometimes I yell. Sometimes I clean. And most of the time I need Matt to say HEY YOU NEED TO SLEEP (or do something for yourself).
SO I try to eat healthy.
I take time to do some creative things that nourish me… like sewing:
Making curtains I’ve wanted for a year and a half (also a clean space and clean sheets helps).
Or crocheting with some NICE yarn (because I’m WORTH nice yarn).
Or make something for someone (in this case a hat for Max).
It’s easy to become very preoccupied with SURVIVING as a mother of one or two or four or five. And I have to remind myself that MY cup needs filling. I need fulfillment and sometimes I need nurturing too. Trying to do it all and be everything to everyone is a bad idea sometimes. Sometimes admitting the things you aren’t capable of makes you, in fact, capable. These are the lessons of womanhood and of motherhood. And I’m learning them. Daily.
(nearly) wordless wednesday , crochet , knit , knitting , mothering , sewing , teenagers , thankful
Baby baking week(s) 20 & 21
These week(s) brought to you by ultrasounds and rescue remedy. I apologize for my lack of updating. The cold hard truth is when I’m exhausted the blog is the first thing to go. Meh.
Stats:
Weeks pregnant: 21 weeks
Weight: 190 lbs.
Gain: +7 lbs total overall
Waist : 44.5 at the bellybutton (this measurement is not changing but WHOA my belly is)
And bust/hips (just for grins and giggles): 44″ and 45″.
Average number of times I get up to pee per night: how ever many times Ella is up. Which lately is a whole bunch.
Size of the baby bean: 10.5 ish inches. (being measured Head to foot now instead of to rump)
Weight: over a pound according to the ultrasound tech (also noteworthy baby measures more than a week ahead in size. We didn’t have a reliable conception date but we aren’t changing the due date either way. March. Sometime)
Other pregnancy related crap:
Emotional crap: I’m not crying every day. We’ll take that as a victory. The reality of this baby coming is starting to set in. It’s weird being so busy and tired I haven’t taken much time to reflect on the fact that another HUMAN will be here in just a few months. Crazy.
Physical crap: Round ligament pain. And continued contractions off and on without exertion.
What I want to devour: Banana bread. Still. And chocolate croissants. I wanted one for two weeks. FInally got one Friday. I wanted to cry a little.
What makes me want to hurl: not much thankfully. Except that because of reflux I have a hard time eating leftovers since I usually spend the day before tasting them in regurg. (Gross)
Supplements: Prenatal (from trader joes). Calcium-Magnesium (with D) pills (2). Papaya enzyme for the reflux/heartburn. It is actually quite helpful. And my friend, the Prevacid. Also drinking Yogi Mother’s Tea now.
Activity: Biking. Walking. Yoga. It’s getting hard to do much of anything but I’m not giving up. The 7 mile ride last weekend was a little too much. The 5.5 mile ride yesterday was about my limit I’d say. Also I have a prenatal belly dancing DVD I’m anxious to try.
Boy? Or girl?: BOY. Yep. It’s a boy and not to brag (yeah I’m totally about to brag) that makes me six for SIX. Dead on intuition. Weird. Also I’ll spare you the photo but there is NO chance this is a girl.
Name: Maxwell {Matt will have to announce the middle name since he picked it). MAX!! Maximilian. Maximus. Max the Man. It’s a Max :)
In other news: We finally met with our homebirth midwife after a month or more of hit and miss. Things check out just fine and we will be seeing her monthly ish now. We will be spending lots of time discussing diet and Ella’s dystocia and what our game plan will be for prevention (careful gain, different pushing position etc). SO far my weight gain is right on target to gain a total of about 15-20 pounds for the pregnancy.
Also Ella is back to sleeping SUPER CRAPPY which has nothing to do with the pregnancy per se but is driving me insane. Just so you know. I’d do just about anything at this point to have her sleep 6 hours straight and/or not be up 2-3 hours in the middle of the night. It’s boggling. And maddening. And exhausting.
Lots and LOTS of movement now. If I sit still and don’t feel something almost immediately I get worried. That’s how much movement. Normal for me now. Phew.
BABY PREP: Bought some boy things. Working on a hat. Need more wool covers and blankets. And will probably register somewhere even though I wont’ have any kind of baby shower. It feels weird but we do NEED some things for this kid that we don’t have so. That.
Tandem nursing update (BOOBS BOOBS and more boobs. you may skip):
No colostrum yet but this isn’t deterring Ella. She has been nursing before nap and bed (unless dad puts her down, which he does a lot when he’s home). If she wakes up prematurely in the morning (which is like EVERY.SINGLE.DAY.) or from nap I’ll nurse her to just be able to rest longer. She basically won’t ever turn it down if I offer but since she is so busy I don’t usually offer unless she seems like she needs it. It’s getting harder to find a position that works because my belly is getting in the way. SO that’s a fun development too.
And here’s the belly photo(s):
ultrasound day: 19 weeks 5 days.
20.5 ish weeks
21 weeks.
Baby MAX!
baby baking , pregnancy , pregnant , second trimester
Baby baking Week 19
This week brought to you by The Art of Happiness by His Holiness the Dalai Lama. I have this book audio version. If you haven’t read (or heard) it I encourage you to.
Stats:
Weeks pregnant: 18 weeks 2 days.
Weight: 188 lbs.
I drank a 12 ounce glass of milk a day (with instant breakfast) for two weeks and THAT happened (I started with the milk because I NEEDED that 20 grams of protein. Pregnant women should get 80-100 grams a day and I was getting about 40 maybe). I’m trying not to freak out but I will admit… I’m freaking out a little bit. Because I started this pregnancy so much heavier than I am used to being (read: the biggest I’ve ever been) it’s REALLY hard for me to watch the scale climb. I know I NEED to gain weight for the health of the baby overall (or studies suggest anyway) but I wish I didn’t have to. I don’t WANT to weigh over 200 pounds, and I know it’s just a number, I do, but I don’t want to exceed it. That all being said I won’t ignore the scale because I’d rather watch and KNOW what’s happening than just put faith in my body to gain the right amount. Because let’s face it, my body likes CAKE. With the prior pregnancies I’ve gained anywhere from 30-55 pounds and my body seemed to regulate itself pretty well without me paying any attention (40 with Kelsey {started at 138}, 35 with Sean {started at 150}, 30 ish with Owen {started at 155}, 55 with Ella {started at 140, but had been 123 about two months prior, I gained that 17 pounds at Matt’s request}). I think now, a combination of my age and having been pregnant so many times, my body does different things with weight gain so I’m mindful of that.
Gain: +5 lbs total overall (that’s +2, actually 2.5 if I include the decimals, in ONE week. I hadn’t gained anything in 10 weeks so I guess I’m due to gain SOMETHING.)
Waist : 44.5 at the bellybutton
And bust/hips (just for grins and giggles): 44″ and 44″.
Average number of times I get up to pee per night: 4. FOUR.
Size of the baby bean: 9 inches. MANGO.
Weight: HALF a pound!
Other pregnancy related crap:
Emotional crap: It’s been a better week. Ella is still sleeping like crap so I’m still tired making me still emotional but I’m TRYING to not cry every time I turn around. This baby is getting real. And I’m finally starting to feel excited and not just scared of how crazy I’ll be with two little kids and three big ones.
Physical crap: My round ligament pain is up a notch this week. It’s always there but now it’s REALLY always there. Also pelvic pain and pressure. I HAVE 22 WEEKS LEFT. I’m not excited about already waddling and feeling way more pregnant than I am. But I guess being pregnant this many times will do that. Also itchy itchy belly. Ugh. Using coconut oil for that
What I want to devour: I REALLY want banana bread this week. I haven’t made it yet. Sigh.
What makes me want to hurl: not much thankfully
Supplements: Prenatal (from trader joes). Calcium-Magnesium (with D) pills (2). Papaya enzyme for the reflux/heartburn. It is actually quite helpful. And my friend, the Prevacid.
Activity: Some bike riding. Some walking. I’m parking far from the store and trying to use my stairs more times a day (just going up for no real reason) but I’m ALREADY having a rough time moving around. And the pool is freezing. So none of that.
Boy? Or girl?: Boy. Still boy. STILL. BOY. 2 weeks.
Names: Boy: Maxwell {insert exciting middle name here} Girl: Maggie Anne. Done. Picked.
In other news: Regular kicks now. Regular like every time I sit down I can be guaranteed to feel something. Yesterday I even felt them from OUTSIDE (which is saying something considering my layer of *ahem* padding). I am SO happy to be finally feeling regular kicks. It’s funny because we seemed to have completely bipassed the wiggly, fluttery stage. It’s as if the baby just needed to be able to contact the uterine wall. Now that he (she) can he’s able to put his strength to work in there. There’s a HUGE difference in a 12 week (half an OUNCE) versus an 18 week fetus (half a POUND). SO really that makes perfect sense.
BABY PREP: Diapers WASHED. Also went to the Carter’s outlet and used a 20% off in addition to the 40% they had already marked down to buy two gowns (unisex) and hats and two sleepers (unisex and BOY) and socks (boy). It’s risky buying boy stuff but I did the same with Ella because I was SURE (I had her entire bedding set by 20 weeks because I got it on clearance at target for about 60% off). Also the few Kate Quinn things I ordered came this week. Nightgown. Blanket. Onesie. T-shirt. They are more boy than girl but could work for either. Also a good twitter friend (NEVER underestimate the power of social networking, people) is sending me some diapers (and clothes for Ella) and saving her baby boy stuff for me. Because she’s AWESOME. (and her baby was born last year in March)
Tandem nursing update (BOOBS BOOBS and more boobs. you may skip):
Things are status quo with the nursing. Ella nurses to nap or at night sometimes (if I’m putting her down, I’ve been having dad do the bedtime duty when he’s home) and occasionally during the day just to snuggle or soothe. She’s able to fall asleep without nursing now even if I put her down. I just pay her in the bed and pat her back for a few minutes. It takes a little more time but my hope is that she will at some point soon be able to just fall asleep after being laid in her bed. Her total nursing time is probably less than 15 minutes a day (keeping in mind that even when I had milk a nursing session only lasted 5-10 minutes because of my super fast letdown and presumably her very efficient suck).
And here’s the (bare for a change) belly photo:
baby baking , second trimester , tandem nursing
This post will start out looking like a sleep post but I’ll get to the point. The last two nights (not coincidentally the two nights I’ve been solo getting up with her) Ella has ended up in the sidecarred twin (‘her’ bed) in our room. It’s hard to think coherently at 1 am but for some reason I felt like moving her in our room was a night weaning failure. At some point real recently (when I was a little less exhausted maybe?) I came to the realization that having her in our room wasn’t a fail if it WORKED. Because she’s been up hourly pretty much for the last almost two weeks.Presumably this is a symptom of teething (PLEASE) because she had been sleeping ok the first few nights in her room. Anyway in standard night, by the time I get up, soothe her back to sleep, go pee and then get myself back to sleep (which takes a while), I’m only getting 3 or 3.5 hours of sleep. This really helps explain the multiple hysterical breakdowns last week. Anyway, she has been in there because it WORKS.
And while we’re talking about what works, let me get to the point. I know people blog about this alllll the flipping time but I’m not going to zip my blabbity lip just because I’ve read it 713 times on some other “mom” blog.
RANT COMMENCE: I call myself an attached parent because I meet the definition of attached parenting (you know, according to API). Hmpf. Whatever THAT means. We EC. We do baby led weaning (solid introduction). We co-sleep. I nurse exclusively for an extended period and do child lean weaning. We won’t circumcise. We cloth diaper. I discipline gently. BLAHBLAHBLABBITYBLAH.
But goshdammit if ANY of that should define who I AM as a parent. Because how do I REALLY parent? I parent from my gut. I parent how I feel. I parent to cope. Sometimes I parent to SURVIVE. I don’t feel like I have to constantly talk about how I parent because I’ve been parenting for 17 years and I KNOW beyond a shadow of a doubt I AM AWESOME constantly screw up. No. REALLY.
You know what the secret of being a good, dare I say it, GREAT, mother is? Oh. No, you say? Well let me TELL you. The secret of being a really kick ass amazing mom is knowing that YOU DON’T KNOW SHIT. I have four kids with a fifth on the way. I helped my stepfather raise my sister after my dingbat mother walked out on her. And what have I learned in 19 years? Well I’ve learned that just about the time you think you have it allllll figured out one of your kids will throw you a curveball and you’ll be like this… SHIT WHAT NOW?!?!
Your sweet little toddler who says please and thank you and shares her toys and never has a tantrum, will one day be 16 and she may very well tell you TO SHUT UP. No, really. It could happen. You may want to strangle her but you’ll recognize that being a teen is hard and you’ll take her phone and then you’ll make up. Likewise, your son who as a toddler threw a tantrum at the drop of a hat and made grocery shopping impossible and made you feel like you WANTED TO DIE? He may just very well kiss you square on the mouth right in front of his group of 13 year old hooligan friends and say, “Mom, I love you. You’re AWESOME.” It could happen. Really. It happened to me.
Believe it or not, mothering, the most basic and encompassing of all jobs EVER, has CHANGED a lot in the last 19 years. Not the act itself but ALL the stuff attached to it. And why? I’ll tell you why. Lots of reasons but mostly…THE INTERNET. When I had my first baby there were no “mom” blogs or forums or Facebook or *gasp* TWITTER. The only way you could possibly compare yourself to any other mom was to sit face to face with her. FACE. TO. FACE. And let me tell you, it is infinitely more difficult to feel like you’re doing a better job than someone else when you SEE the 2 hours of sleep bags under their eyes. When you know their husband is having an affair. When you know they have postpartum depression. When you know they can’t pay their bills. When you know thier son is smoking dope or their teenage daughter is pregnant. You could not feel like you were a better parent than them because the filter of the internet did not exist. And you wouldn’t say the things you can say on the internet if you had to look in their eyes when you said it.
I love all the new an awesome ways we can interact with our babies. I love baby led weaning and ec’ing and I loved babywearing and co-sleeping before they were really a “thing” but what I hate is that in SO many ways we are now made to feel guilty for doing or not doing or doing but not doing well enough all of these ‘things’. I MEAN REALLY? Shit.
Example: I EC. Well that is to say I EC by my own standards. We put Ella on the potty when she wakes (but not always) and if she needs to poop (most of the time). Otherwise she wears a (cloth, because I love the environment and I’m BETTER than all of you who don’t. Uh NOT.) DIAPER. I’d EC fulltime if I HAD time. But you know what I have 4 kids. I’m in my car two hours a day. Sometimes more. I’m at jazz festivals and football games and the store. Daily. Sometimes Ella just has to pee in her diaper. She just does. And she’s GOING TO BE FINE. The hardcore EC people would have you to think that I’m not doing well enough. Well they are welcome to come here, be 5 months pregnant, herd my chickens, feed my three dogs and two cats and fish, water the garden, do my laundry, mop my floors, help with homework and take care of my kids while I’m ALONE half the week because my husband works out of town. While they’re at it, they can rub my feet. Oh and kiss my snowy white backside.
I REFUSE to feel like I’m not doing enough. I am doing my BEST. The same thing goes for BLW. I don’t feed Ella purees but if I did, SO WHAT. She’s not going to be permanently damaged. I know this because I gave my first three kids homemade purees, with a SPOON, and they are FINE. And same goes with babywearing. I wore Ella constantly for 5 months. At five months of age she weighed more than 20 pounds. I STILL wore her because it was easier, even though it killed my back. Now I’m pregnant, she weighs 25 pounds. I have a HUGE belly. Am I going to drag her around the mall on my back just because I don’t want to look like I’m not an ATTACHED PARENT. OH.MY.GAWD. I have a STROLLER. And I USE IT.
I was talking with my friend Staci last week (and Staci has one 16 year old child, no babies anymore) and she made this astute observation. She said something like this (totally not quoting) … the thing I see the most with this whole AP attitude isn’t that more people necessarily DO those things for their kids but that there is the competition between moms *to* do those things. How right is that? What kills me is that someone OUTSIDE our community can so easily see what’s happening inside our community. As mothers we are doing the most difficult work, wouldn’t it make sense that we should be lifting each other up? And yet we belittle, berate, judge? Even in ‘friendly’ conversation there is the tone my kid is obviously better than yours or I am clearly better than you. It’s disguised sometimes as ‘information’ and ‘sharing’ but often it’s most blatantly just mean.
I worked in a busy hospital labor and delivery unit for several years. I left because ultimately policy conflicted too much with my personal beliefs (too much intervention, too little education) but while I was there I noticed one overwhelming thing. Motherhood is universal. Be she white, black, Asian; poor, rich, middle class; intelligent, functionally illiterate; educated in every aspect of birth, not even aware where the baby comes from; the feeling is the same. ALL mothers love their babies (Ok there are some exceptions to this rule but you get what I’m saying). The one universal thing is LOVE. And I believe that while some mothers don’t mother how I mother (and sometimes that hurts my heart) I believe that they are probably usually TRYING. Probably. Usually.
Can we just accept, even if may not be true, that most mothers (at least the ones in our social circles) are TRYING? That they are mostly doing their best?That they love their children and want a good life for them? That maybe their idea of what makes you a good mother isn’t the same as your idea? Can we then take that one step further and use this amazing thing social media to uplift and encourage, to hug and support, to be THERE without being judgmental? Can we accept that even if they don’t parent at all like we do or if they parent like we do but not the same WAY we do that it doesn’t mean their kids are ruined. It just means they are different.
Can we? Ok great.
Because one of the other things I’ve learned in 19 years? Competitive mothering doesn’t end up doing anything positive for the kids involved. Nope. All it does is divide us when we need desperately to be united. We need each other now more than ever because this mothering thing? It’s HARD dude. Hard.
attached parenting , attachment parenting , mothering , OVERACHIEVERITIS , parenting
Baby baking: Week 18
This week brought to you by three hysterical breakdowns, one sainted husband and three consecutive hours of sleep. This is a long post because I have a lot to discuss. Nursing. Weight gain. Blood sugars. Emotional breakdowns. All covered today.
Stats:
Weeks pregnant: 17 weeks. ON THE NOSE. Look at me posting on time! Woot
Weight: 186 lbs A note on gain: After our long bike ride last week my weight popped up 3 lbs. OVERNIGHT. (This always happens when I exert myself. It’s a fluid muscle storage thing). I panicked. I didn’t think about the ride only OMG WHAT DID I EAT? anyway. I’ve done a LOT of research about weight gain in pregnancy. I feel like I should devote a post to it. Suffice it to say NO MATTER your starting BMI (even if it’s >30 which is considered “obese”, mine was 29. Do I LOOK obese? Don’t answer that.) to gain zero weight has adverse outcomes for baby. My goal is to gain 15-20 pounds. I’m probably right on track to do that.
Gain: +3 lbs total overall (I haven’t gained a pound since week 8)
Waist : 35 at the skinny (I’m going to stop including this) 44.5 at the bellybutton
And bust/hips (just for grins and giggles): 44″ and 44″.
Average number of times I get up to pee per night: every time I get woken up. Probably because I am drinking a gallon of water at night.
Size of the baby bean: 5.5 inches SWEET POTATO
Weight: 5 ounces. Whoa.
Other pregnancy related crap:
Emotional crap: I’m not going to sugar coat this week. IT SUCKED ASS. Matt was gone to a big conference in the big City and I was alone and EX.HAUS.TED (because Ella is cutting molars and therefore sleeping like CRAP) but also alone and exhausted while he was getting to have fun. And by fun I mean DRINKING ALCOHOL amd SEEING THE SHINS in concert and running in a hamster ball and staying at the awesome Hilton. I really struggled with this because it’s part of his JOB to have fun (and he works REALLY hard) and he’s not TRYING to make me miserable. It’s not his fault. Really. It just seems to happen. And I assume it’s natural for me to be envious of his getting a break while I get perpetually MORE exhausted, but to have a hysterical breakdown? THAT’S probably hormonal. I’m just guessing. In any case, that was an ugly personal moment for me crying to my husband about how UNJUST AND UNFAIR life is for me right now, but I’m sharing it with you because i want YOU to know that PREGNANCY MAKES WOMEN INSANE SOMETIMES. Totally. Batshit. Crazy. He took over night duty two nights this week with Ella and even though I woke up every time she woke up not having to GET up and stand over her bed made a HUGE difference in my energy and attitude. Not that I don’t still want a martini.
Physical crap: One word: Prevacid. I COULD NOT take it anymore. The reflux was killing me. I didn’t want to eat anything ever. Not that I’m trying to gain weight, because I’m not, but there were two days this week where I just forced food down. Also my belleh? It’s getting big. Like in the way big. I measure about 22 weeks right now and reaching the floor is a challenge. I’m picking up a lot of crap with my toes. I cleaned behind the fridge and under it and mopped the kitchen on hands and knees. Not sure how much longer I can do that. Also. HEADACHES. Bullshit. Period. Nothing works.
Also, this week I started checking my blood sugar both fasting and 1 or 2 hours after eating. WHY? Well after careful consideration and research I decided that I didn’t feel like one snapshot (the glucose tolerance test) of my sugar after fasting and then drinking something SUPER SUGARY was enough. Nor was it accurate. With Ella I opted out of the glucose testing completely because I honestly don’t feel like it’s super accurate and I know I’m not diabetic. BUT then she was HUGE and my midwife was like wellll hey maybe we should check and I was like wellll let me think on that. Conclusion: I would rather have a big picture of what my sugars look like than a one day image. Here’s what I’ve found. My fasting sugars run anywhere from 63-85 (70-110 is normal). Postprandial (after meals) runs 85-94 average. I had ONE reading of 113 and hour and a half after I ate a banana. Normal is < 120 1 hour after and < 105 two hours after. Anything > 140 is considered a danger zone. The diagnostic numbers are basically anything higher than 180 at one hour or 153 at 2 hours. WELL, as you can clearly see I am NOWHERE near those numbers. If anything I’m a little on the hypoglycemic side. SO take that. It looks like maybe I just make big babies anyway. That all being said, I AM going to watch what I eat. Limiting simple sugars and carbs (white flour and sugar mostly) and watching my overall gain. But this whole fear factor of OMG YOU’RE A DIABETIC? Bull. Crap.
What I want to devour: I’m not overwhelmed with any “I MUST HAVE THIS” feelings. I’m grateful. Because usually those cravings are for things I should’t eat. I did eat a whole box of Special K red berries this week though. And vinegar-y things. Pickles. Olives. Pepperocinis. YUM.
What makes me want to hurl: not much thankfully
Supplements: Red Raspberry Leaf (2 caps). I haven’t been taking this AT ALL because I can’t STAND the taste of it. Prenatal (from trader joes). Calcium-Magnesium (with D) pills (2). Papaya enzyme for the reflux/heartburn. It is actually quite helpful. And my friend, the Prevacid.
Activity: We took a long hard bike ride last weekend. HARD. With hills. It was rough. I won’t do that again. I’m doing some yoga but need to pull out the DVD to be legit I think. Right now I feel like the stretching and chasing after Ella is enough. I’ve been too damn tired to do much more.
Boy? Or girl?: Boy. Still boy. STILL. BOY. 3 weeks, people. THREE.
Names: Boy: Maxwell {insert exciting middle name here} Girl: Maggie Anne. Done. Picked.
In other news: Um not much to report. I’m obsessing about not feeling this baby move a lot. And when I can’t sit still and GET a movement I freak out and grab the doppler (twice now). He’s in there. Still 136-144 BPM. But I get paranoid. I am assuming this lack of constant kicking is a feature of the fact that my uterus is a CAVERN. I mean it’s 22 weeks huge with a 17 week fetus baby in there. As Matt put it, “He’s kicking into thin air honey.” Probably true. Still worrisome.
BABY PREP: I’m still working on the wool soakers. Bought some little socks and some newborn sized babylegs in boy-ish patterns (75% off yo). Once I know it’s a boy (or girl) I’ll get some gowns and such. Or maybe just grab some unisex stuff from Carters outlet. I sold Ella’s fuzzi bunz since we’re using the prefolds and soakers and with those proceeds was able to buy ALL the prefolds the new baby will need. Plus doublers. No covers though. I also got two grovia AIO’s for the up to 15 pound stage. I’m planning on knitting more soakers and maybe buying a couple of velcro ones.
Tandem nursing update (BOOBS BOOBS and more boobs. you may skip):
With the milk nil our patterns have changed. Ella nurses to naps and bed (if I’m doing bed duty) and checks in during the day for a quick one or two minute session here and there. I’ve been really reflective this last couple of weeks. Losing my milk was hard. Really hard. I felt really betrayed by my body. I WANT to nurse through this pregnancy WHY won’t my body cooperate. I felt really guilty and resentful even. I cried a lot and moaned a lot and fretted a lot. But I’ve come to a real place of peace. First: Our relationship as mother and baby has evolved into something new and different. Because there is no food involved in the nursing anymore, it’s about comfort and closeness which is sweet and special in a new way. (To those of you this weirds out… the first time I thought about “dry” nursing it seemed weird to me. Why would you continue to nurse if there is no milk? Well all I can say is that once you’re in that situation your feelings about it might change as mine have. Now I can embrace my relationship with Ella as about more than just food. I hadn’t really considered this before I was faced with it). Second: I have come to appreciate the space in my bed as she learns to sleep without nursing constantly. This hasn’t been easy for me. It felt like a real failure to be forced to night wean, but as I have said before, I do believe things happen for a reason. There is always something to be gleaned from the difficult moments in life. This is one. And with peace and reflection I can see that too. I hope she’ll be back to sleeping with Matt and I soon because we do like the family bed BUT that being said, if being in her own bed works out better for her I won’t push it. Soon enough there will be another little person there and he (or she) needs his (or her) space too.
And here’s the belly photo:
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