For starters, I had another easy delivery. It was the same basic schedule as Charlotte, except that I lingered in the pre-water-breakage stage at the hospital for a few extra hours. Because last time everything went so fast after that, my doctor wanted to wait until the real morning, not 4:30 am. This time my water was broken around 9am, and with the same milestones as his sister, Elliott flew out 5 hours later. Also like Charlotte, I pushed through 3 sets of contractions and out he came. There’s nothing to complain about there.

Our hospital stay went very smoothly as well. I remember last time being completely overwhelmed with the entire experience. First postpartum recovery, first newborn baby to tend, first hospital stay, first revolving door of hospital staff and well-wishers too happy for me to say “I need some rest, please”, first everything. This time we knew what we were doing and what to expect. It made everything so much easier and we took full advantage of the break. We knew once we got home that things old be drastically different. We were not wrong, but this is the positive post, so I’ll get to that later maybe.

Aside from nursing and a thoroughly confused lower back, my body has healed remarkably fast. Well, I say remarkably. I remember still being in a lot of pain and having a lot of other “issues” at this point with the last pregnancy. Maybe it’s just the contrast of feeling like complete crap towards the end of this pregnancy, but I feel better now, one week after giving birth, than I have in months. I’m still limited on what I can do, and I push those limits too far (naturally), but by and large, I’m a fan of this postpartum recovery.

Along with that, I’ve already shed just over 20 pounds. Considering I only gained 14 during the pregnancy, well, that’s certainly put a smile on my face. I’ve got a long way to go to get to a weight I’d like to live at (say another 30-40 pounds), but this is a nice jump-start. I’m not recommending pregnancy as a weight-loss plan, mind you, but it’s a great way to start the day. This happened last time, too, but by the time Charlotte turned 1, I was back up to the very unhealthy weight I started at for this pregnancy. This Time Will Be Different!

Continuing from the hospital stay, our collective confidence level is a wonderful thing. With Charlotte, we couldn’t trust our instincts, because we didn’t have them. I was so worried about making a mistake that I was a complete emotional wreck. Change a diaper? Feed a baby? Dress a baby? Swaddle? Everything that felt daunting before is second nature this time. It’s incredible. When her initial weight loss was a concern to our pediatrician all i heard was “you’re a terrible mother”. This time? I heard “he’s probably fine, but let’s just make sure.” Same doctor, same discussion, but very different set of parents.

And then there’s Elliott. We can’t take all the credit for how “easy” this has been. I’ve started calling him Maslow, because he’s a pretty straight-forward kid. He’s got about 5 needs right now (food, rest, clean diaper, non-upset tummy, not cold and exposed on the changing table). Meet them, and he’s a happy camper, content to lay there and blink his eyes at you until he falls asleep again. He doesn’t really whine that much when he’s needy, even. Just enough to let you know that something’s up. I don’t remember Charlotte ever being this content. We’re all holding our breath, waiting for the colic window to see if he’s going to be similarly afflicted, but so far, he’s been a champ. People often wonder how someone with a difficult first child ever consider having another. I wonder how someone starting with a complacent tyke like Elliott would adapt to a “challenge” like Charlotte. I’d much rather do them in this order.

So that’s the good. To be fair, the struggles that populate the negatives (it’s all struggles, nothing health-related, thankfully) really aren’t all that terrible. Certainly not in the wake of all this awesome.

For now, here’s some raw output from the Baby Activity Monitor app that I’ve been using on my iPhone to help track Elliott’s day. The app isn’t perfect, but it’s hella sexy and beats pen and paper at 3 in the morning any day of the week. Who doesn’t love digitzed data?! I’m not taking any more time to argue with wordpress and my theme about how this table can/should be displayed, so if it looks a little wonky, that’s why. Don’t blame the app :)

Here’s what 6 days old looked like:
(ignore the “0.00 oz” – that’s for bottle feeding)

2010-06-08 – Activity Logger Report for Elliott
Time Activity Duration Amount Notes
23:28 pumped just over 1 ounce left breast only
23:04 Diaper Pooped
22:58 Slept 1:01 hrs
22:46 Burped possibly some spitup as well.
22:36 Ate from Right Breast 21 mins 0.00 oz
20:47 Slept 1:43 hrs
20:34 Ate from Left Breast 9 mins 0.00 oz took a nap break
20:25 Diaper Pooped & Peed
18:55 Slept 1:29 hrs
18:51 Burped
18:35 Ate from Left Breast 20 mins 0.00 oz
17:39 Slept 56 mins
17:38 Burped
17:16 Ate from Left Breast 22 mins 0.00 oz
14:58 Diaper Pooped
14:44 Slept 2:16 hrs
14:33 Ate from Right Breast 10 mins 0.00 oz
14:20 Diaper Peed
13:11 Slept 1:04 hrs
13:10 Burped
13:00 Ate from Left Breast 10 mins 0.00 oz just to sleep, but got hind milk
12:55 Diaper Peed
11:17 Slept 1:33 hrs
11:12 Ate from Left Breast 5 mins 0.00 oz
10:25 Diaper Pooped super runny. greenish yellow.
10:10 Ate from Right Breast 15 mins 0.00 oz got to the hind milk!
10:01 Diaper Peed all over the table
10:00 Diaper Peed
07:45 Slept 2:00 hrs
07:34 Burped
07:19 Ate from Left Breast 13 mins 0.00 oz
07:11 Diaper Pooped & Peed both while changing wet diaper
07:10 Diaper Peed
04:53 Slept 2:17 hrs
04:52 Burped
04:30 Ate from Right Breast 21 mins 0.00 oz one burp break
02:58 Slept 1:30 hrs
02:44 Diaper Pooped & Peed runny and seedy
02:43 Burped
02:37 Ate from Left Breast 20 mins 0.00 oz includes 2 breaks and one diaper chg.
00:00 Slept 2:35 hrs

I’m being induced tonight.

I’m being induced to– Nope. No matter how many times I see/say/think it. It still doesn’t feel real. Sometime on Thursday (hopefully!) Elliott will make his debut, this journey will be over, and a new one will begin. My head is so full of thoughts about what the next 24-48 hours will entail that I can’t focus on what the first few weeks with two children will entail, and that’s probably a good thing.

I can hardly believe it’s going to be over, though. I can’t remember what it’s like to not be pregnant. What’s it like to eat or drink anything you want? What’s it like to walk without waddling? To do more than 1/3 of a day’s worth of “work” without being exhausted and in pain for the rest of the day? What’s it like to have a spine that isn’t concave at the bottom? To take a 20 minute steaming hot shower? What’s it like to sleep on your back for more than 5 minutes? Or your front at all?

There are things I will “miss” about being pregnant. I’ll miss the thick hair. I’ll miss the way most people seem to be extra nice and accommodating. I’ll miss a bit of the attention. I’ll miss not being obsessed about looking overweight and I’ll certainly miss folks telling me how great I look, even when I know they’re lying. I’ll miss knowing one of my children is safe because he’s always within reach. Elliott will never be this easy to care for and keep track of, and I’m sure I’ll miss that. It’s silly, but it’s true.

But I’m ready to be done. At my last pre-natal checkup, we discussed the risks and benefits of being induced a bit early. On Thursday I will be 8 or 9 days away from my due date, depending on which one you use and how you count days. It’s only 5 days earlier than the last sonogram calculated my due date at, although that’s largely irrelevant. Since I was progressing slowly but steadily and Elliott’s proven checkup after checkup that he’s healthy and on the big side, my doctor scheduled an induction that starts tonight, and will likely end some time Thursday morning. Last time was quite literally a breeze, more or less. My body was really responsive to the induction methods, the epidural was great, and Charlotte was ready to go when it was time. I’m not expecting Elliott’s birth to go as smoothly, but it sure would be nice. It could be over much sooner, and it could be over on Friday. So long as we end up a healthy family of four, I won’t complain too much.

…and you know what? I’ve been messing around with this post off and on all day. It doesn’t say nearly the stuff I want it to, but i’m now 20 minutes away from the “call window” for my induction, and I can hardly focus. So if it’s raw up there and sentences stop and start, so be it.

If you want to follow the action (assuming that the action doesn’t get so crazy i don’t have time to tweet, or, like last time, I get to sleep through the most “action-y” chunk), you should follow baby_squirt on twitter (or just keep reloading that page. This space, Facebook, and my regular twitter account will all be updated much less frequently, but will have announcements and pictures as soon as logistically/priority-ally feasible.

It’s good because there’s more room for me to breathe, I can sit upright without squishing-related discomfort, and most importantly, it means we probably won’t have any breech-related complications. Once his head is locked and loaded, it’s difficult for him to unlock himself. Not that he hasn’t been trying. The “bad” is mostly related to whole new levels of discomfort. My poor, abused bladder is experiencing all new fun, which means extra trips to the bathroom (at a time when I need to be increasing my water intake to prep for labor), plus, he’s got extra access to his favorite pillow/punching bag. He’s also pressing on new parts of my body causing strange twinges and tingles and more than a little pain. All of this will continue to increase in intensity and magnitude as the weeks progress and he gets heavier and slips even further into position.

Yay fun yay.

I’m also transitioning from the mostly useless Braxton Hicks contractions to the Real Deal. This transition period (which is probably going to last a month, too), involves strange quasi-contractions that just make me feel nervous. They’re not exactly labor starting, but at any time they could be the thing that happens right before labor starts. When I get a wave (some days I get 2 or 3, other days I’m relatively wave-less) I have to sit and chill and try to not to wonder if I’m going to go into labor in a couple of hours. When these odd episodes happen near or after bed time, I can loose a few hours staying up with an overly-loud mind.

All of this new fun was leading up to a doctor’s appointment on Thursday that I was really looking forward to. At 36 weeks, not only was I going to get a sonogram to see just how big Elliott was getting, but I was going to get to talk to my doctor about these changes and get some serious soothing. I was looking forward to the calm mind that would make sleeping better and to having a better idea of when “next” is going to occur.

Nothing went the way I’d planned.

Before I start, let me say that I love my doctor and my doctor’s office. I’ve been going there for yearly checkups for years and years, and this is the end of my second pregnancy with this office. The administrative staff is as friendly and considerate as can be. The nurses(?) that do most of the prep work (take my vitals, test my pee, interview me before the doctor sees me, etc) are awesome and friendly and competent. Even the blood tech that just hangs out waiting to stick people is nice and superb at her job. I’m an easy target, but she makes the pricks near painless.

But.

The other doctor in the practice and the nurse practitioner are just not as cool as my doctor. I’ve seen them when I needed to with very little drama other than some grousing that they’re not my doc, so the “level of care” wasn’t really of concern. They just have different ways of talking to pregnant patients that I just don’t care for.

Thursday, I really needed to see my doctor, but she was held up with some surprise deliveries and surgeries, so after my sonogram, I was going to see the NP. I took a deep breath and focused on the fact that in a few weeks, it might be my emergency surgery that’s keeping my doctor from seeing patients and I wouldn’t want her to rush back to her office then. This helped keep most of the tears and frustration at bay, but not all of it. Almost any previous appointment would have been fine, but just not this one, you know?

First up was the sonogram. The tech was running late and rushing to catch up, so when she called us in, she asked “What are we here to look at?” I was taken aback. Who trusts a patient to tell you that? Isn’t there a sheet or something that tells you what you need to do? So I briefly went through our history with the sonograms and that the doc thought he might be a bit big, so this was to check that out. Was there a standard set of things to look for when you’re checking that out? I don’t know. I’m not a professional. If I hadn’t been lurking on some forums, I wouldn’t have even thought about worrying about fluid levels. If i hadn’t asked, would she have done that, too? I don’t know. I was not full of confidence. Even though this was my 4th sonogram for this child and my second child, she still treated me like an idiot and was more than a little patronizing. I took deep breaths and tried to remain calm while she went about her work.

Oh, and Elliott’s fine. He’s measuring 6.5 lbs right now, which is apparently about the 54th percentile. The placenta is still where it belongs and all his parts are working just fine. We even got to see him “breathe” at one point. Fluid levels are normal, he’s still a boy, etc, etc. I know that finding nothing when you look is a good thing, but still, I felt like this was a waste of time and money since there was nothing out of the ordinary. We couldn’t even get any good pictures. Being almost at term, he’s so bit it was hard to really capture anything. Ah Well. Better safe than surprised.

On the heels of that frustration, it was time to visit with the NP. She wouldn’t be able to definitively tell me anything, but I knew I’d get to talk to my doc in 6 days. If something had been abnormal on the sonogram, I would have been more of a wreck, but since my doc was going to look over the notes and pictures herself, I was less concerned about talking with the NP.

She was as I remembered from my 6 week “we don’t schedule you with the doctor until we’re sure you’re pregnant” visit. I didn’t feel listened to as much as I said certain things and she repeated the textbook’s response that my statement triggered. Which, being a textbook reader myself, I knew already. We had a couple of exchanges that went something like this:

Me: I’m having these weird episodes where it doesn’t feel quite like a Braxton Hicks but it’s not a full contraction. I’ll have maybe 2 or 3 in a half-hour or so, but then nothing after that for hours.

Her: If you have more than 4 contractions in an hour, then you need to call us or head to the hospital.

Me: ….Well….I don’t think these are really contractions, are they? I mean, they don’t really hurt and it doesn’t feel like the uterus is contracting as much as everything just feels weird for a moment or two.

Her: Just be sure that if you have more than 4 contractions in a hour that you call someone. We’d probably try to stop you from going into labor for the next week or so.

Me: 6 days until i talk to my doctor…6 days until i talk to my doctor.

I still mentioned everything I needed to mention, in case there was a real red-flag in there, but I didn’t hold my breath that she was going to say anything useful. I also didn’t bother asking what the plan would be regarding a possible early induction, because at best she would repeat the possibilities that my doctor had laid out in an earlier appointment. She did (roughly) check my girly bits to see if there was any progress on that front and there wasn’t, so I was even more content to wait the 6 days to have a conversation with my doctor.

You know what’s coming, don’t you?

Friendly Appointment Scheduler: You need to come back in a week, right?

Me: Yes. But on Wednesday is my normal day.

FAS: [Your Doctor] isn’t going to be in on Wednesday.

Me: whimper

FAS: In fact, she’s not going to be in at all next week.

Me: do not cry. do not cry. do not cry. Better next week than the week after. do not cry. do not cry. I’m sorry. I was just really looking forward to seeing *her*.

FAS: Well, she has some hours on Friday. Let me see if there’s something still available. …. How does 11am work?

Me: Yes, please. Thank you.

So it’s 8 days instead of 6, but at this point, it’s still with my doctor. The good news is that since everything’s normal and I haven’t started the expulsion process, I don’t have to start freaking out because he’s more likely to come early instead of on-time-ish.

Between the lack of my doctor (I doubt she’s on call this week) and a sudden overnight business trip for Ryan, Elliott is flat out not allowed to emerge this week.

I hope he’s listening.

what i’m not cool with is any version of the following question/comment:

“6 weeks, eh? are you ready? you know, my best friend’s sister had her second child 7 weeks premature, so you could really go at any time, now. I bet you’re really looking forward to being done, right?”

For the record: no, i am not ready yet and despite all of my non-squeamishness, I do not want to hear about people who have already given birth by this stage. Every time I hear it, the “it could happen at any time now” voice gets louder and the “i’m not ready yet voice” gets a bit more panicked and it’s stressing me out.

here is how it works, or at least, how it worked last time and more or less looks like it’s going to work this time: if you’re fortunate enough not to go through pre-term labor issues, you reach a point near the end of your pregnancy where your discomfort of being pregnant eclipses any anxiety you might have over labor or new-parenthood that prevents you from being “not ready” to deliver. you go from “i don’t know if i can do this” to “for the love of god, would someone get this thing out of me already?”

it’s a healthy thing and i’m looking forward to it.

i am nearly there. the constant backache, the limited mobility, the giant wiggly baby in my belly are all wearing on me and i’m pretty much ready to be done with it all. it’s making me cranky, which frustrates me and everyone who’s trying their best to be accommodating to my needs and moods because, holy crap, i’m a super-pregnant woman. there’s just one problem: Elliott’s world isn’t quite prepped for his arrival. Although there is nothing that doesn’t have a “while Kelly and Elliott are in the hospital” solution, there are lots of things that i’d like to have accomplished before i can fully embrace the “let’s get this show on the road” attitude.

I’d like to spend a little bit more time refreshing my memory on newborn care, especially the nursing part. i’m sure it will all come back to me, but i never trust that theory. between the toddler and the newborn’s needs, double-checking a book or the internet when i run up against something i feel like i’m forgetting just won’t happen. while he’ll be sleeping in a bassinet in our bedroom for the first few months, i’d like to have the nursery re-established with the right furniture in the proper place. i’d also like to have all his bedding, blankets, and first clothes washed and prepped and put away. it’d be nice to know where in our bedroom we’re going to put the bassinet now that we’ve added furniture to it, too. oh god, and the “lets go to the hospital now” bag isn’t anywhere near prepped. i keep forgetting about that one. and ordering the new stroller and the pump supplies and…

see? i’m so not ready to be ready!

we’re working towards all those goals, and the closer we get, the less panicked i feel. but please, strangers and family alike, please quit telling me that it could happen any day now and asking me if i’m ready yet. i know, and i’m not.

i promise to tell you when i am.

It was pretty fun as far as showers go. The limited amount of gifts, and the fact that they were all clothes and toys instead of “big ticket items” meant that I didn’t spend too much time feeling overly self-conscious as everyone just sat around while I opened things. There weren’t any overly game-y games, the food was tasty, and there was no drama. There was even a sweet 8 month old baby girl to help Charlotte “entertain” everyone.

As I mentioned, the haul was entirely clothes, toys, and other small items like receiving blankets and bibs and such. Later, as I was sorting everything into piles by size, I noticed that while there were only a couple of duplicate gifts, everything looked “the same.” Adorable, mind you, but pretty much the same. In fact, when I started sorting everything the next morning, I was unable to remember which gift went with which person, despite the best efforts of my gift-documentor. Which set of “puppy onesies” went with my aunt and which one went with my sisters-in-law? Thankfully, the thank you notes don’t have to be quite that precise.

Being who I am, I started to wonder which theme was the most prevalent and that opened the statistical floodgates. As I sorted, I recorded the theme(s) and category (size) of each item.

Here’s what I learned with the help of some basic charts from Excel:

As you can see, Puppies and Baseball were the major themes, with Zoo and Vehicles right behind. I really thought Monkey was going to take it, but that was because everything that was Zoo themed included monkeys but wasn’t counted as a monkey-themed item. While it looks like Misc Animal had as many hits as Puppy and Baseball, It really didn’t. More on that in a minute if you don’t start tuning out beforehand.

We had warned everyone that Elliott was likely to be a big kid, which explains the relatively even distribution in clothing sizes from 3 to 9 months. It’s hard to resist the tiny clothes, because they’re just so gosh-darned cute. Anything much bigger can be a serious hit-or-miss since babies “sizes” don’t always match their ages. Who knows what season he’ll really be in the 12 months clothes? I suspect it will be well before his one-year birthday.

Sadly, I don’t think my sample size was large enough to answer any more interesting questions. I wonder if there’s a connection between size and popular theme: are puppies even cuter in the 0-3 months size? Does construction equipment make more “sense” for the 18 month set? I also wondered if what I’d picked out for him (and added to the sorting after I’d finished cataloguing) matched up, or if my pro-monkey/anti-sport-themed bias would be too obvious. I know the additions would have bumped frogs into it’s own category. Since that pile of previous purchases also included items from Grandma, and I couldn’t remember who had purchased which items, that’s another unanswered question.

If you’re moonlighting as a stat geek, too, you might care that Zoo was defined as anything with multiple kinds animals on it. One might consider this category Jungle or Safari, but they usually contained animals that don’t ever see each other in the wild. Misc Animal was defined as clothes with a single animal theme, like Monkey or Puppy, but only containing one or two item with that theme. That didn’t seem like enough to clutter the pretty charts with a single block for elephant, penguin, frog, turtle, etc etc. Misc Sport was defined similarly. The No Theme theme was reserved for clothing and items that didn’t have a theme so much as they were a solid color or pattern. Some had phrases like “I’m Awesome” or “Little Brother”, but that didn’t seem theme-y enough. I intentionally left No Theme off the bar chart because even though it was nearly 1/4 of the items, it wasn’t as interesting as the rest of the themes and skewed the visuals. The packet of blue and brown pants is useful and i’m grateful, but it doesn’t really address the primary “popular theme” question. As far as categories go, Misc Cloth are laundry-bound things that aren’t clothes (bibs, blankets, wash clothes, and a stuffed lovey), and Misc Toy/Acc are toys and other things that won’t be laundered before Elliott gets to use them. (boiled, maybe ;)

In the interest of full disclosure, the quantities (especially the totals by category) are a bit misleading. Excepting Zoo, if an item had more than one clear theme (like a dinosaur driving a car or teddy bears *and* construction equipment) then it counted in multiple categories. There weren’t many of those items (maybe 4?) but with a data set this small, it’s a significant impact. LIkewise, if a set had a bib with the outfit, it counted as two items in the same theme, and a 5-pack of onesies would be assessed as 5 different items (and they weren’t always in the same theme!). I know, I know. It’s amateurish not to track it both ways, but at the end of the day, I knew I had much better things to do than go back and re-count everything using different methods for different data crunching. I could have also tracked themes by gift (most people picked up multiple items), and tracking theme by age of gift-giver would have been interesting, too. At least with a larger sample size. Missed opportunities all.

As of now, the clothes are all sorted into gift bags based on size, ready to be brought out and laundered as he grows into them. The 0-3 clothes and the majority of the misc cloth and toys will be addressed as soon as we get the nursery set up and the changing table in place, which should be some time in the next couple of weeks.

I know, duh, right? Well, amid all the focus on being a healthy baby carrier, prep for Elliott’s debut, and occasional freak outs about being a mother of two, being a pregnant mom gets lost in the shuffle. Even when it’s an issue (surprise! you can’t hold your daughter on your lap and put on her shoes anymore!), it’s usually something with an obvious solution. Sometimes the solution is a bit more cumbersome (setting her on the couch and kneeling in front of her is not ideal – she wiggles and it’s harder to get up afterward), but the solution is readily available.

Occasionally, it isn’t, and that’s when I ask myself a simple question: What Would a Single Mom Do?

This is not to imply that my husband is a deadbeat. Far from it. But there are “jobs” that are mine and tasks I’d still like to accomplish without waiting for him to get home in the evenings or saving for the already-stacked weekends. If I can do it myself, I’m going to and pregnancy hasn’t changed that.

A prime example of this is giving Charlotte a bath. This is not easy, and since it’s not part of our bed time routine (it gets her all worked up, not calmed down), it usually takes place during the day. Not only is kneeling in front of the tub rough on my back, but it’s getting harder and harder to reach her in the tub without seriously cramping Elliott’s living quarters. My crafty 2-year-old knows this, so when there’s something that needs doing that she doesn’t want done, she just wiggles away from me out of reach. So what’s the solution? I could turn bathing responsibilities over to Ryan, but I don’t. I mean, seriously. What if he wasn’t here? Do the children of single mothers just not bathe their existing children for the last few months? That’s ridiculous. So while we’ve been trying to work in some early-evening baths, I continue to give her a bath when she needs one.

When I was pregnant with Charlotte, I was hyper-diligent about making sure I didn’t do anything that might “upset” the baby to an extreme that is common for first time mothers and more than a little excessive. Now? Not so much. Again, I’m not saying I can’t be bothered to look after Elliott, but I’ve gained a more rational perspective. Since I have no actual health concerns, I can’t not pick up Charlotte when I need to. She’s already discovered that she’s faster than I am unless it’s an emergency situation. If I couldn’t pick her up when I finally catch her and wrangle her where she needs to go? Forget about it! That means anything that’s roughly Charlotte-sized is fair game for being picked up and carted around. It’s better if can balance the weight, so I haven’t flinched away from a set of Charlotte-sized weights on either arm. Sometimes my back is going to hurt for a while, but not-doing something like laundry or buying groceries is impractical. Besides, that’s why science came up with (generic) rapid-release Tylenol and ice packs!

I’m a bit worried about what will happen in the next couple of months in terms of fatigue. With Charlotte, I was sleeping an absurd amount. It was partially due to boredom (I wasn’t quite put on bed rest, but I was put on “sit down with your feet up as much as you can”-rest), but partially because towards the end, even when you’re not “doing anything”, your body’s super-busy finishing up the baby. It’s like being tired when you’ve got the flu. Your body has better things to be doing than keeping you awake. As a result, I took 2 naps during the day and slept quite a bit at night.

This will not be possible when Charlotte’s around and there’s only so much “WWSMD?” I can get away with when my body is demanding sleep. And yet I think I’m going to have to get used to being sleep deprived even before Elliott makes his debut.

You see, here’s what I don’t want to happen:

Concerned Party: How are you feeling?

Me: Okay, I guess. My back hurts and tylenol can only do so much after I’ve over-extended myself, which I can’t stop doing because I have a toddler and a life and neither one cares that I feel like crap. I can’t sleep because my joints hurt and I’m freaked out. My allergies are bugging me and I can’t seem to shake this cold because the medicine I take for that doesn’t work as well right now. Plus, I can’t breathe thanks to the kid that’s hanging out where my lungs are supposed to expand. I’m kinda panicked about having a second kid and how not-ready our home is for a second child. Oh, and I shouldn’t have a soda or a glass of wine or whatever that fruity thing is you’re drinking, so I’m pretty bummed out by this glass of ice water.

CP Response #1: Well, you’re pregnant! What’d you expect?

CP Response #2: Well, you’re the one that chose to get pregnant again!

CP Response #3 (that I don’t actually get, but I would probably give or at least think really loudly if the situations were reversed): Wow. Complain much? Sorry I asked.

I can’t help but feel like I’m giving the impression I’m a whiner, when really nothing is “wrong”. The end of pregnancy just sort of sucks so if you ask me how I’m feeling and I give you details, that’s what they are. Responding with “fine” doesn’t work in these situations because people are actually inquiring about my health. Plus, “fine” is clearly a lie. I may only be 7.5 months pregnant, but according to various reports, I’m carrying around over 8 months of baby. That’s beyond the point when things start to get miserable again.

To avoid that version of the conversation, here’s what usually happens:

CP: How are you feeling?

Me: Pregnant. (or if it’s a particularly rough day/moment) Really Pregnant.

CP: (laughs) Well that’s obvious. Everything okay?

Me: Yeah, I’m just pregnant. Everybody’s fine and healthy, but being this pregnant feels like crap.

CP: Well, it won’t be long now (or) Looking forward to being done?

Me (stifling panic attack): Oh, he’s still got plenty of baking to do and the house isn’t quite ready for him. But it’ll be fine. Now if you’ll excuse me, I really need to get more water and sit down. Enjoy your daiquiri.

Everyone’s happy! People who are actually interested in or feel like prying further can get a litany of complaints, or a brief discussion of why I’m feeling extra crappy and how big the baby might be/get before it’s time to deliver. Occasionally this turns into a discussion about how difficult two babies can be, which I either faux-laugh off or confess that I’m actually a bit panicked about that, depending on my audience.

So that’s what I tell ‘em. Even my doctor. When it comes down to it, I’m just pregnant and it’s hardly newsworthy. I know that with 10 weeks to go, I’m only going to feel more pregnant before it gets “better” and that likely I’ll be begging to start the post-birth stage because even though “better” just means “different,” different can be very good.

It was a rough couple of weeks, but eventually we started seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. That helped us tremendously because we knew that if we could get her down once, we could get her down again. Eventually.

And we did…Eventually. It’s certainly not perfect, and we’re likely still months away from saying “It’s bed time. Please stay in bed,” and having a compliant child, but we’re getting there.

Most nights require someone sitting outside her door, holding the handle closed so when she comes by and “tests” the door, it doesn’t budge. We tried locking the door(temporarily) one night, but she knows how to unlock it, so that doesn’t work. Most nights she tries the lock a couple of times, whines a bit, and then gives up and goes to bed. Some nights the locked door enrages her and she throws a tantrum. Some nights she walks around in circles in her room, checking the door every 5 or 10 minutes, until she falls asleep where she was standing. Usually it’s less than 30 minutes from “bed time” to “sleep time.”

On rare nights, when she’s had a super-busy day and we manage to time it just right, she doesn’t get back up and falls asleep in a few minutes. If we’re out late enough, she falls asleep in the car and we can shuffle her into her bed with minimal fuss. It helps to pre-dress her in pj’s with a nighttime diaper.

Naps are much more difficult to come by. She’s not easily convinced that she’s sleepy enough for a nap and the door-handle trick doesn’t work. She’ll hang on the door and pout and scream and when she gives up, she turns destructive inside her room. She’ll take all her clothes out of her drawers and dump them in the middle of the room. She’ll do the same for her diapers. Depending on my own temperament, we struggle for anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour and then I give up. Giving up usually involves coming out to the tv room and “resting” while watching Ponyo. It’s sometimes easier on weekends if she’s had a fairly active morning, and I know that if I tried to put her down at 4:30, she’d likely sleep for hours. If i did that, she’d be up until 11pm or so, and nobody wants that. It’s a work in progress, though, and I’m sure we’ll get there. She has no problem sleeping on a cot at daycare. I just wish I could leverage that routine and peer pressure at home.

The best part about sleeping in her big girl bed is her morning routine. She wakes up before us, usually between 6:30 and 7:30 in the morning. Sometimes she’ll stay in bed until she hears one of us stir (which happens pretty often thanks to my pregnant bladder), and then she’ll come padding across the house to our room. If she can’t make eye contact with either of us, or “catch” us awake, she makes several trips back to her room to fetch her things. It’s as if she thinks that if she brings her pillow, her blanket, and a few of her stuffed animals into our room (and often onto our bed), then it becomes her bed, too. Once she has everything set up, she’ll stand by one of our heads (usually Ryan’s, since that’s where she’s most likely to gain entry) and wait until we acknowledge her. Once we do, she hops into bed, demanding her own pillow (and not the one she brought with her). If it’s early enough, she’ll actually go to sleep, but most mornings she just lies there, talking to us every couple of minutes or so, telling us that she’s awake and asking how our days are going. On weekends, we encourage her to go turn the TV on or set her up with a cup of milk and some dry cereal so one or both of us can get in another 20 minutes or so.

It means no sleeping in, but it’s adorable.

I wonder how much this routine will change once Elliott arrives. There’s no question that if she hears his mid-night feeding(s) she’ll want to join in the party. Hopefully when we put Elliott back in his bassinet, she’ll understand that everyone needs to go back to their own beds. Hopefully, too, she’ll get so bored with the process that she’ll just roll over and go back to sleep.

And hopefully, when she sees all of Elliott’s naps, she’ll start wanting to take hers, too. Otherwise the adage “sleep when the baby sleeps” will be completely useless this time around.

First up was the glucose test. Basically an hour before your appointment you drink this bottle of orange-flavored sugar water (think mc donalds orange drink that’s been sitting out so long that too much water has evaporated) and then nothing else. Whether or not you fast ahead of time (and how long) is subject of some debate. Making pregnant women fast isn’t something people like to do unless it’s necessary. My doc’s office says nothing when you wake up in the morning, but it ended up being more than 12 hours for me since i didn’t have a pre-bed snack or anything. When you arrive, they draw your blood and test how well your body handled the sugar rush. At my doctor’s office, the magic number is 130 (sometimes its 140). A couple days later I learned that my number was 144.

More on that in a minute. You want to know about Elliott, right?

He’s doing great! The bonus sonogram was to check on my placenta, which was in the “low but not too low” range during the big 18 week sonogram. It turns out that my placenta has moved so far up and out of the way that the technician found it hard to believe it was ever an issue. Hurrah! She also checked everything else out again, and he’s developing just fine. He’s a bit big for his gestational age, but not by more than a few days, so nobody’s concerned there. He’s also a long fellow. During most of the exam he was in a pike position, with his feet extending up over his head even though his knees were bent! Crazy-long kid! However, if he’s going to be pushing the 9-pound mark (I’m hoping he’ll stay under 8.5, but I’m not sure he will) I’d much rather have that weight taken up with height than girth. Although neither my husband nor I are particularly tall (I’m 5′6″ and he’s 6′), we both have some uncles with some serious height on them, so it’s not unprecedented.

See? He’s fine. Now back to me!

Elliott and I took a rather harsh tumble the day before the sonogram, too. He was never in any danger (there was no trauma to my mid-section, no spotting, and no abnormal cramping), and somehow I managed to escape doing any serious damage. Had the fall gone differently (I tripped over a power cord while carrying a dirty fish tank filter and crashed into our TV console) I might have ended up with some broken parts, specifically my left shoulder, left hand, and right knee. Also, there was a moment where it looked like our TV was going to topple over more or less onto me as well. As it was, the TV is fine and I only walked away with some serious bruises and a hearty dose of shock. It was reassuring to have the appointment scheduled for the next day and the sonogram tech paid extra attention while she was looking around to confirm the lack of trauma. I slept much better that night, or I would have without the bruised shoulder. :)

On Monday I returned for the 3 hour test. It’s pretty much the same, only “more.” I had to fast for 12 hours and since it also involves measuring the fasting level, I drank the solution (2x as thick – like when the orange soda doesn’t squirt out any carbonated water) after my blood was drawn the first time. Then I waited an hour for another blood draw. Rinse, repeat, repeat again for a total of 4 draws over the course of 3 hours with nothing to eat or drink to disrupt the test.

Know what else disrupts the test? Throwing up because drinking a super sugar solution after a 12 hour fast and then nothing else makes your belly feel super gross. Thankfully, I managed to fight the waves of nausea that hit after the first hour, but it wasn’t easy. Elliott decided that this sugar rush was great fun so he started doing somersaults right when the nausea was at it’s peak and all I wanted to do was sit perfectly still until it faded. When it was over, I slammed a banana and headed out for roast beef. I felt “off” the rest of the day. Like when you do that day after you’re done being sick. You’re technically symptom-free, but your body is still dragging and dazed and needs a bit of extra time to recover.

The great news (and why I waited until midway through week 27 to post) is that I passed the 3 hour test, so no gestational diabetes for me! Yippee! I celebrated with frozen custard and girl scout cookies!! (not really. okay, maybe.)