Is Your Wife Due

. . . This afternoon?

One day shy of 38 weeks, I laughed when Case told me a stranger had asked him this question as we’d entered a restaurant and I left him to order while I took the girls to the bathroom. While in that bathroom, I had caught a sideways glance of myself and shook my head at how ridiculous my belly looked.

Even with my “new” maternity tops (the ones bought because my other ones were showing belly) I am once again showing belly. No matter the tugging and adjusting, I’m simply too big for these tops as well. It works out well that I only have a little time left, and frankly, I’m not caring as much anymore.

You may notice I’m using Casey’s camera for these pics. I dropped and broke mine last week as I got a cute video of Haley playing “drive-through” with her high chair. Looks like we’ll be using this camera for our birth and newborn pictures. . . I hope I can finally get the hang of this camera and not take only blurry pictures of our new baby.

Time is ticking away. Some friends of mine took the girls yesterday for a few hours while I stayed home and did some much-needed paper sorting and organization. We also had a false alarm early in the morning that I might be going into labor. One of many, I’m guessing. Today’s not much different, except that I sent Case to work at the usual time. Figure I’ll go on with our plans to attend a friend’s luncheon and meet him at home if things really start to pick up. I’ll be posting more about the prodromal part of the last few weeks on my other blog, if you’re interested in the details. Anyway, I’m not holding my breath that today’s the day. Or tomorrow or the next, for that matter. Managing expectations is key for me in many areas of my life, and labor is no exception. At any rate, we’ll be meeting our little guy soon enough!

While I Was Gone . . .

There was a time when Casey would take advantage of me being out of town and catch up on some small home improvements or surprise me with getting a huge project done. One time, I remember he spent the weekend tearing out about 30+ feet of overgrown juniper bushes at our old house (I’m allergic, and it was a real gift for him to do it while I was gone). Other times, he has torn out decking, painted, replaced light fixtures, installed door frames, and built and cleaned numerous things . . .

But that was before children, or if it was after, it was because I AND the girls were gone. Naturally, having done it myself, I do not have in my expectations when I leave him with all three that he will get anything done, save keeping them alive and thriving. So, imagine my surprise when my hubby and girls pick me up at the airport IN A MINIVAN.

We do not own a minivan. Well, at least, when I left, we didn’t. I was gone 5 days. It was enough to ask Case to care for three children five and under alone for that long. I even thought it a little much to offer/ask that he take them to a birthday party one of the afternoons, and was surprised to hear over the phone that he did indeed take them (little did I know what else he had done!).

As we arrived home from the airport, the girls had a surprise for me. They took me to their playroom (what we call the closet under the stairs), which I see is completely empty and partly painted (Something I had wanted to do myself right before I got prego last fall, and something I really wanted to have done before baby got here—Case didn’t even know this. He just knew we’d planned on painting it at some point.) He wanted to have it finished by the time I got home, but he discovered one of the colors we planned to use was completely dry. ( The situation has been remedied, and the project continues at our leisure.) Already, I love looking at the clean, crisp pink wall that peeks out at me when the girls leave the door open.

Yet another surprise awaited me as I went upstairs that night. The accent wall in our bedroom is painted a beautiful khaki/tan color (called “toasted wheat”). I have NEVER liked the original color of our bedroom, and most especially that accent wall (colors were peach and rust—too southwestern for my taste). A few weeks ago, I told Case if we did any painting before baby arrived, it should be that wall. I did not want to have that color as a background for another birth video.

Falling asleep that night, I was again grateful that Casey had chosen to paint this particular wall while I was gone. The fumes were barely noticeable.

But that was not all Case had done in those five days! He also painted two walls in our bathroom (by the tub—which will come in handy for labor and mental relaxation:) that same toasted wheat (was also peach—neither of us were fans). And, as it would not have been much of a blessing for Casey to saddle me with a new vehicle that had yet to be registered (knowing some errands—like grocery shopping—needed to be run right away when I returned), he also took all three girls to the MVD and took care of that for me. I had a new van and didn’t have to lift a finger! I’m still amazed that he did all this while I was gone. Who shops for a car with 3 young children? And who shops for a car by himself with 3 young children? And this is the guy who regularly thinks I’m crazy for going grocery shopping or to the post office with them. Yet he goes off and buys a car with them in tow? I believe he may be the crazy one. Maybe crazy in love? :) Whatever it is, I’m not complaining!

So, “When,” you might ask, “did Case accomplish all this stuff?” Some with the girls’ help (he got some pics of them painting their playroom), but mostly after they’d gone to bed. I’m impressed. It’s enough of a job to care for their daily needs alone, but to also accomplish several projects outside that? What can I say? My hubby’s a go-getter!

I’m really enjoying our “new” Odyssey. It is low to the ground and the girls can easily climb in . . . and. . . buckle themselves without problems. Haley can crawl into her seat without as much trouble, and I don’t have to break my back lifting her or buckling her into it. I also don’t have to hoist my huge-and-splitting self up into my own seat. A nice plus at this point in pregnancy.

Other perks: air conditioning vents for all three rows of seats—the last two rows have ceiling vents. The Pilot did not have this. Ask any of our guests who have had to ride in the back of the Pilot in hot weather: this is huge.

And what mom of young children does not appreciate that minivan doors do not swing open, but rather slide, so as to accommodate an infant car seat between tight parking spaces? Not to mention the rule we’ve had for our entire parenting career with the Pilot: DO NOT OPEN THE DOORS WITHOUT PERMISSION!!!! See, children aren’t always the most observant and careful of creatures. Add the fact that wind is fairly ubiquitous here in certain seasons, and you’ve got a recipe for lots of banged-up cars around you. Okay, another perk is that the doors are automatic, and that’s pretty great. Especially to save face when the grocery bagger assists me to the car, and I don’t remember which row I was in . . . and there seem to be several white minivans around. “There mine is—the one with the door that’s opening.” :) (Okay, so he knows I’m a total space cadet, but still . . .)

No, it isn’t as “cool,” is older, doesn’t have 4WD or leather seats or a DVD player, doesn’t have the perfect-height diaper changing platform in the back hatch, and actually seats one LESS than the Pilot did, but really, this is a huge upgrade in the practicality department! Case was a little unsure I would be pleased with the surprise (we’d talked about getting one since I got prego this time, and I mentioned several times how much I loved the Pilot and how much I would miss the great things about it), but I’m glad he did it this way. Ripped the band-aid right off.

Strangely enough, on a family outing last weekend, Case told me he felt slightly embarrassed at the gas station to be filling up a minivan. So, I guess I’m not the only one who has to adjust. I offered to trade seats and drive, but he said there wasn’t a more emasculating thing he could think of. Being driven in a minivan by his wife. Kill him now. The tables have certainly turned since 7 1/2 years ago when we were dating and I told him I couldn’t see myself driving a minivan (go straight from the car to the full-size van), and he couldn’t see what the big deal was.

We had fun as a family getting the Pilot ready for sale. Case and I cleaned it inside and out while the girls played in buckets of soapy water on the lawn. Good times. It took a good 3 evenings of elbow grease to make it beautiful enough to sell. As of last week, we are Pilot-less. And my heart doesn’t even ache.

One Month, More or Less

Would you believe I have to keep telling myself that, just because I’ve been “early” with the other three, I have no assurance that this baby will be early or even—ahem—“on time.”

One month from today, this baby is due. As I have wondered aloud at times, I have a hard time thinking I can possibly make it another month in my present condition. Another trimester, another 8 weeks, another 6 weeks . . . Yet, I am pregnant at this moment, and a couple months ago, I wondered how I could make it even this much farther. God is good and His grace is sufficient.

Between heartburn, strong and frequent contractions, pulling ligaments, sleep deprivation/physical exhaustion, pelvic pain (this chicken is split, baby) and the sheer weight of my growing self, (I weigh more than I ever have in my life at this moment and boy, can I feel it! Another few weeks of weight gain like my last couple prenatal visits and I’ll surpass my husband who usually outweighs me by 60+ pounds. . . EEK!) it is very difficult for me to believe I will actually survive until the due date.

But, by God’s grace, we’ll make it to July. I shake my head at how pitiful things may be by then, since I already have to take a rest after climbing the stairs (I’m talking an ACTUAL rest—where I go lay on my bed for a good two minutes, not just take a breather right there on the landing), I often sit on my kid’s stepstool to prepare meals, and doing laundry nowadays means I’m squatting or tailor-sitting to load or unload the machines. Standing has not been a usual or favored posture for the last few weeks now. Essentially, I have “stations” that I switch throughout the day, and usually don’t move from one to the other without a good 5-10 minute break. I hope I’m conveying the all-time low my energy level is at right now.

If I had to mark an actual start, prodromal labor began last Thursday (34 wks, 3 days), when contractions were strong, long (one minute+) and 5-10 minutes apart all day (except for the last several hours of the day, where they were 2 minutes apart) and accompanied by straining broad and round ligament pain (back and leg labor) that got worse during, but did not let up between contractions, which is pretty normal, in my experience. (By 5-10 minutes apart, I mean that for chunks of the day, ctx were about 5 min apart, and for chunks of the day, they were closer to 10. In whatever chunk I was in, the frequency was pretty regular.)

Thankfully, I have not had another day quite like that until today, over a week later, so the frequency at which I am experiencing “bouts” of prodromal labor is fairly doable. (Even though I didn’t exactly think that last Thursday, but that day, I was dragging myself along, thinking, “I can’t do this for 6 weeks!” . . . and what do you know? I wasn’t being asked to.). Today, I have not had the ligament pain, just the strong and frequent contractions (3-5 minutes apart), coupled with feeling puny and very achy in the tummy region. This morning, I mistook it for a stomach ache, till I realized my stomach was not where I felt the aching (i.e. all over my belly—but separate from the contractions which I also feel all over my belly). I’m guessing it is abdominal muscle fatigue, but not sure. It just hurts, contracting or not.

I should note that what makes me put these days into a “prodromal” category is that I have more and stronger ctx than on a usual day. A usual day for the last couple months has been some number of hours of ctx 10 min apart or less. It has been months since an hour has gone by where I have not had a contraction. In fact, I would venture to say that it has been over a month that a decent contraction hasn't caught my attention at least every 20-30 minutes. This is definitely true for waking hours, and may also be true for sleeping ones, since I am awakened many times at night by them.

So, as Monday marks the completion of my 36th week, I am putting together all the home birth supplies, and packing my “in-case-of-transfer” bag as well as finishing up my “I-C-o-T” birth plan. I have not done either of the latter two things before, but I have this feeling that I am going to end my personal birthing career with a bang, and want to be prepared for whatever that may be. The birth plan consists of mostly post-partum things (no pacifiers/bottles; no bath, eye ointment, vaccinations, etc.) but I will also include a few labor things, such as, “If baby needs to come out right away, please tell me this. Please do not yell at me to PUSH!!” as well as asking for the cord not to be cut until the placenta has been delivered, and that delivery being a natural one(no yanking!), since this seems to be so prevalent in hospital deliveries around here. Are there doctors out there who know how to manage the normal (non-pitocin-hastened) delivery of the placenta? I cannot count on having one, and I do not care to have an iatrogenic uterine prolapse, thank you.

That’s about it in the prego dept. And for those of you who couldn’t care less about the prego dept, I’ll leave you with a few recent pics.

The girls and their cousin, Savannah at the zoo on Tuesday.

My sis-in-law, Tiff (with Elijah), is my zoo-buddy. There is no way on earth I would have attempted a trip to the zoo 9 months prego in the heat of summer without her! (It got over 100 degrees several days this week.) We only made it to a few exhibits before eating our picnic and heading out. I was spent for the rest of the day.

As would make sense on a blazingly hot day during the seal/sea lion feedings, Haley took a rest on the concrete.

This afternoon, Haley got into the spice drawer. I was relieved that it was the paprika, not the cayenne pepper she’d opened!