Archive for the 'Pregnancy' Category

Where I’ve been

Well, where on earth have I been?  One post a week?  That’s hardly worth it.

I’ll tell you where I’ve been.  In MISERY. (Please note that I tend to lean towards the dramatic.  I can not be held responsible for any slight exaggeration that may occur during this post.)

This whole pregnant-while-parenting-an-active-and-tantrum-prone-toddler business is seriously kicking my butt.  It’s been dragging me down physically, emotionally, and psychologically.  Dark circles are eclipsing my once young, sparkly eyes (ahem…).  I am developing a slouch that can only be described as a Stress Hump, in the most G-rated way possible.  I float between utter joy, infuriation, and complete dispare; the mood changing so quickly I am often wondering “what is wrong with me?” or “where did that come from?”

When I look at my situation objectively, I really do have it fairly easy, given the circumstances.  Anonymous Husband does more around the house than most men (seriously, I’m not just looking for bonus points here – he does the vast majority of the cleaning and more than half of the cooking).  My mom looks after Eirinn, instead of some stranger, which is an enormous blessing.  I have a good job, 10 minutes from home, which pays well and is pretty stress-free (most of the time – this morning was questionable).  I have a network of moms I meet with weekly to de-stress, vent, and gossip.  I have a best friend who I can email daily.

And, actually, Eirinn has been extremely well behaved this past week (as I knock on wood, cross all my digits and limbs, and pray to sweet Baby Jesus).  She has been happy for the most part, has been sleeping well, and has decided that food is not, in fact, the devil, rather is quite delicious and she’ll have more please.  And more.  And when she’s done seconds thirdsies she’ll have dessert.  And then second dessert.  And then maybe a snack.  What are we having for supper?

But.  BUT.  Even a well behaved toddler is still a toddler.  Which means High Energy, itty bitty attention span.  There’s still a lot of running and jumping and catastrophe-aversion and game-invention and TALKING  going on.  I just don’t have that kind of energy.  I have just enough to pass, probably with a C or a C+, but I feel guilty and like a failure if I don’t average a B+ in Parenting 101.  And that, compounded with the hormones and the discomfort, usually brings me to some sort of meltdown.

Evenings are spent just getting through it.  I try my best to keep up, to be cheerful, to be a normal mother and wife.  But I know it’s not working as well as I’d like.  I’m probably not fooling either of them.  I’m doing the best I can playing and hanging out with Eirinn for the few hours before bedtime.  I’m doing the best I can to be patient and strong and The Meeter of All Needs.  I’m doing the best I can, but the best I can right now, to me,  is sub-par.

What I would like to be doing in the evenings (and, let’s face it, all day as well) is sleeping.  I’d like to come home from work, change into pyjamas (preferably flannel), crawl into bed and sleep until I feel like waking up.  Which might not be when the alarm goes off.  Heck, it might not even be the morning.

But I can’t, which is ok.  And I know this feeling of complete and utter exhaustion of my body and my mind isn’t permanent.  It will probably last for quite a while (newborn + toddler does not make for a stress-free environment), but it will get better.  Maybe I need a few rejuvenation days (or “sick days”, as my work insists on calling them) to get back on track.  Maybe. 

I’ll get there eventually, but I’m not there now.

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The results are in…finally!

XX

Eirinn’s going to have a little sister! 

To be honest, I kind of knew it.  I don’t think even once the thought that this fetupus might be a boy crossed my mind.  It always felt like a girl to me.  However, everyone else who ventured a guess was certain it was a boy.  So certain that most of them wouldn’t even bother starting the sentence with “I think”, it was “I know”. 

I’m going to keep it in the back of my mind that there is still the possibility that this may be a boy (even though the sonographer assured us that he “saw nothing hanging” – direct quote).  Just in case.  But in the meantime and for all intents and purposes, I can now envision our family as mom, dad, and two girls. 

Anonymous Husband’s initial reaction was joy.  Eirinn is his heart and early on he said two girls would be nice because girls are so sweet. 

His next reaction was that another girl is the cheaper option, at least at the beginning stages.  Hand-me-downs galore!

And finally, as we were walking out of the hospital, he turned to me and said “That’s a lot of women.”  I could sense the terror in his voice as he imagined his life for the next 18 years.

So, yay!  We know!  And it’s a girl!  I love pink!

Disclaimer in case the sonographer was wrong and “she’s” actually a “he”: I would have been excited if the baby was a boy, too.  I’m just relieved to find out, either way.  And I also love blue.

Those deep fried and iced – BEWARE

As confessed to my BFF via email in response to her lower-caloric admission.

Confession #1: I ate 6 chocolate Timbits for dessert at lunch because they were there and my mom made the fatal mistake of telling me no one else will eat them. They are now gone.

Confession #2: The Timbits were destined to be consumed because I literally had a dream about eating doughnuts last night. I was at DMNO and we met at Tim Hortons and I ate the biggest, most delicious sprinkle doughnut I’ve ever seen. It was almost like a french cruller with icing and sprinkles. Forget dreams about making out with hot guys or winning the lottery or flying. I’ll take dreams about eating doughnuts over those dreams any day.

Is that crazy? Probably certifiably.

We make shy babies

“It” is still an “it”.  “It” had “its” back to us and had “its” legs crossed tightly at the knees.  *sigh*

Because not knowing is not an option for Anonymous Husband and I, this means we’re going to have to fork over wads of cash and do the 3D imaging.  It’s so expensive, but now we’re desperate.

So disappointed. 

However, “it” did seem healthy or at least normal.  “Its” heart rate was a perfect 140 and “it” appeared to have all of “its” expected limbs and none extra.  So that’s always good.

* Edited to note: I should have titled this post “We make shy fetuses” because Eirinn?  She is the least shy person I have ever met before in my whole life.  She was, however, also a shy fetus, pulling the old “back to the camera” trick at her ultrasound.  The expensive, 3D ultrasound at that.

Guess we’ll have to wait until tomorrow

I just took an on-line gender prediction test and after answering 20 or so questions, the results were 47% boy and 53% girl.  This translates to:

 “You are definitely, maybe, quite possibly, or not, having either a boy or a girl, or both, or neither. But we are 61% certain you are having something. Even if it’s just a snack.  Or not.  Please don’t sue us.”

The Chinese Calendar says girl.  Everyone else in the known universe says boy.  I say there’s definitely something in there, boy or girl, and whatever it is, it sure does wiggle a lot.  That’s all I know.

until tomorrow…

hopefully…

as long as fetupus cooperates and shows us his or her bits…

and if he or she is anything like his or her older sister, he or she will be crossing his or her legs as tight as he or she can, thinking we’re awfully pre-verted with all this interest in his wee-wee or her hoo-ha…

Anonymous Husband and I don’t really care if it’s a he or a she.  Our interest lies in getting the room prepared, either keeping or replacing Eirinn’s old clothes, picking a name, and putting an imagined face to the idea of a new family member.  On one hand, a girl would be cheaper (less to replace, more to re-use) and easier as we know how to parent a girl, in general.  On the other hand, a boy would be an interesting change and would add a bit of a hormonal balance to our house.  And what dad doesn’t want at least one boy?

But, as cheesy and typical as it sounds, we will honestly be thrilled with either (I think our chances of getting ‘either’ are fairly good, so – yay!) and tomorrow’s ultrasound is basically just a formality.  A highly anticipated, extremely looked-forward-to (what?  shut up, I’m pregnant and can make up phrases if I want) formality.

So look for the big reveal (or disappointing let down of ‘no news’) tomorrow.

In through the nose, out through the mouth

Things coming up I’m scared witless about:

1. Moving Eirinn into her “big girl” room.  We’ve spent Eirinn’s college fund a lot of money on the necessities required to change the current playroom into a proper, functioning toddler’s bedroom – bed, dresser, night table, bedding, lighting.  And the odd un-necessity – decorative pillows, letters to adorn the wall spelling “Eirinn”.  Oh, and we’ve picked the colour we’ll paint the room – a nice, light, buttery yellow.

All of this is just a distraction from the real issue here, which is in approximately one month we are about to begin the monumentally exhausting and frustrating task (so I hear) of transitioning Eirinn from a crib into a bed.  A real, live, big girl bed with no sides to act as a team to form a Child Containment Unit.  We’ll install one of those removable bed rail systems to ensure she doesn’t fall out, but that won’t keep her from voluntarily getting out of bed over and over again.  A suggestion of a baby gate across the bedroom door has been mentally noted.

Stay tuned for some very erratic and irrational posts in the near future.

2. Potty training.  Yes, our plan was to train over the Christmas holidays while we were both home for an extended period of time and able to dedicate our lives to alternately asking if she had to go pee pee and cleaning up disgraced and violated carpets.  However, Eirinn wasn’t, and isn’t, ready.  I think she’s fairly close (has used the potty successfully several times, tells us when she’s dirtied her diaper, shows interest in the potty), but just not quite there yet.

Eirinn is a head-strong girl, set in her ways, tied to her routines, unwilling to change.  When we finally get the courage to start the hard core, potty training boot camp, I anticipate we’ll be met with resistance, even if she is ready in every other way.  I don’t plan on forcing this onto her, I don’t want to traumatize the poor thing, but on the other hand, I was still kind of hoping she’d be trained by the time we have a second bum to diaper.

3. Speaking of which, we have the small issue of a second mouth to feed in the coming months.  4 months and 19 days until expected arrival, to be exact.  I am in no way nervous of either the birth or the infant him or herself (however foolish this may be – it even sounds ridiculous as I type it).  I’ve been through both before, without the aid of drugs, I might add, and we both made it out a little exhausted, but fine.  I have not, however, experienced caring for an infant with a screaming, needy toddler in the same picture.  This very thought makes my palms sweaty and increases my blood pressure to an unhealthy level.

I may have made it out of the infant stage fine, but certainly not gracefully.  It was rough while it was happening, that’s for sure, with a colicky, fussy baby.  I have to now imagine life, if we’re going the worst-case-scenario route, with a colicky, fussy baby and a busy, grumpy toddler.  All I can wish is that this next one is a happier infant and that Eirinn takes to sharing her everything better than I am expecting her to.  Which is not…very…well.

Coming up – Things coming up that I’m excited about.  Just so you don’t think I’m all gloom and doom. I wish I could write about these today, but my hands are too sweaty to keep typing and I think I’m going to go breathe into a bag for a while.

On a sweeter note…

When I reach 10,000 hits, I’m treating myself to a donut.  A sprinkle donut.  Or maybe two.  I am eating for two, afterall.  But what if I want two donuts all to myself?  Then what is fetupus going to eat?  Well, that would just be rude of me.  Maybe I’ll get a whole box and then there will be plenty for both of us.  Yes, that’s what I’ll do.  When I reach 10,000 hits, I’m treating myself and fetupus to a box of donuts.

That day will be sweet.  Hopefully it’s today.  If not, than I’ll treat myself us to a box of donuts to console our disappointed stomachs hearts.

* Update – Yay!   Looks like it’s donuts for dinner tonight!