"Baby" Girl No More

Something very strange but pleasant has occurred over the last few weeks. And I am in Seventh Heaven. My daughter has gone from being Baby Girl to being something of a Little Lady. I can't quite explain how this makes me feel. The boys like to be boys - and they have each other, thank God, because right now I can't be the rough and tumble Mommy that I usually am. But my daughter? She's a sweetheart. She doesn't like to wrestle. Or tumble. Or be rough. (although she does like to get very dirty. Ahem.) And all of a sudden she wants to be like me. We cook together. We garden together. She (usually) likes it when I fuss over her hair. She likes to pick out her own shoes. She still doesn't want to wear clothes, though, and NO! She does NOT get that from me!!

It's almost like I have a new...friend. We chit chat while we do our thing and I am absolutely having the time of my life. It's not that the boys and I don't do things together. Or that I'm not absolutely head over heels in love with them, too. It's just...different. It's that mother-daughter bond that I've just never experienced before, at least from the mother-end of things. And I hope it never ends.

But, brother, I don't wanna go down the slide. Please!

Lady In Waiting

Alas, I am still (very) pregnant. I know, I know. It's better for them to stay in there until they're "done bakin'" and it's safer and less work and blah, blah, blah. That doesn't mean that I'm not completely tired of being the size of a beached whale. I was still only 1 cm at my appointment last week but was "very soft", whatever that's supposed to mean...

And since my last prediction didn't come true, I'm going to make one more (with the intention that it not come true either, please). Mr. MOTH has to travel out of state this week. By plane. Overnight. For two nights. Oh, boy. If this baby is a girl, it will most certainly make an appearance when all hell will break loose if she does. If it's a boy, I might be safe. Although even if it's a boy, it will still be from my flesh and blood.

I am trying to work out the logistics of what will happen if I go into labor while he's away, but I just can't wrap my brain around it. Obviously, the original plan will be shot to hell. The only part of that plan that will remain is that my parents will be with the kids. I have to find someone to drive me to the hospital (under no circumstances will this be someone from my family. I can't handle that kind of stress if I'm in labor. Or ever.). I also have to find a substitute L&D coach - my first choices would be either my SIL or my good friend, Mar, but I have to say that neither one would be readily available (unless it happens in the middle of the night, I guess). And since this trip was last minute, I have to actually ask them if they'd be willing to do so. My SIL has been with me through it before, so I think she would be the best bet. But Mar lives closest and, although her driving used to scare the crap out of me, she also knows how to get there. Alright. Never mind. I give up. I'm going to stick my head in the sand and say everything is going to be just fine. Really. Right? I said RIGHT?!?! {SIGH} It's going to be a loooong week...

Predictions

In my life (per Murphy's Law) everything seems to happen all at once. There really is never a dull moment around these parts and under normal circumstances (read: when I'm not eleventy months pregnant) I thrive on that. I live for the crazy - which is probably why I've always wanted a big-ish family. Right now, I'm not a big fan of crazy because I just can't keep up with it.

Yesterday, we had NO POWER for 8 hours. During the day. Nothing got done. Not one stinkin' thing. Dinner was late because I didn't want to start prepping it if I wasn't going to be able to actually cook it. I had no power to do laundry. Or dishes (yes, I could was them by hand but we have a grinder pump - kind of like a sump pump - and running water is frowned upon when there's no electricity). Or vacuum. So, we read. And we played. With every toy they own. All at once. Needless to say, Mr. MOTH was not impressed with the state of our home when he got in from work last night. Too bad. He didn't have to deal with the crazy.

So, why the title "Predictions"? Well, as I mentioned, everything happens at once. If I was a bettin' person, my money would be on Thursday as the day this baby is going to decide to come - or at the very least pretend to come. We have more going on in that one single day than the entire month. Combined. Oldest Boy has the day off of school. Mr. MOTH is taking him to work to participate in Take A Child To Work Day at his company (an event that I used to be in charge of when I still worked there) UNLESS he has to travel to Wisconsin that day - which is looking like an improbability right now - thankyougodforsmallmiracles. I have an OB appointment that morning. Normally, I would also do my grocery shopping that day but that's a near impossibility. AND my MIL is coming up from my SIL's to my other SIL's for a quick doctor's appointment before she moves in with my brother-in-law - 8 hours away. Which means this will be the only chance that the kids will have to see her in probably the next 6-8 months - minimum. So I have to cart the two youngest with me over to my SIL's (about an hour and fifteen minutes away). We'll meet Mr. MOTH and Oldest Boy there. {SIGH}

Did I forget anything? Oh, yeah.

I'll be turning 37 that day.

Photos

Apparently, it's Show and Tell day here at Long Daze because I am pretty far behind in showing off various aspects of our life. I haven't posted a lot of photos of the kids (per Mr. MOTH's request), but since Baby Girl was going in cognito I thought this one was particularly safe:

Here she is cheering for her favorite hockey team (although she doesn't really know what "hockey" is yet...she would learn too many, uh, "new" words if she watched it with her daddy...). Let's Go Pens!!:

Here, the boys are coloring eggs:

And now for the basement. I am pretty proud of my husband (for a lot of reasons). I think he did a great job on the basement so far, even if it means I haven't actually spent a full weekend with him in over two years. This will be where I have my scrapbooking table/shelves set up (the open door in the back is a storage closet):

Here is an area, located at the bottom of the stairs, that will have a bench with storage underneath (there are lights above so we can use this as a reading area):

This is from the far corner of the huge family room looking towards the stairs. The opening with the furnace/water heater will have louvered doors. If it seems like there are a lot of lights, well, there are. Enough lights that occasionally the auto flash on the camera must have thought we were on the surface of the sun:

This is looking from the stairs towards the family room:

And finally, the bathroom. The orange thing on the floor is a heating element so that the ceramic tile won't be cold. I don't ask any more. If it makes him happy to have it (and it doesn't cost a million dollars), then he gets it. The color looks a little pinkish, but believe me, it's R-E-D. I can't believe he (almost willingly) let me pick this color:

This is where the vanity will go (it's a relatively small bathroom, but functional):

This is the shower stall. I think this color/shade is much more accurate:

And finally, by popular request, and because I must have lost my frickin' mind, a belly shot taken at around 32 weeks (because, frankly, I won't take another until delivery day - maybe tomorrow:):

Quick As "Lightening"!

A few weeks ago I was complaining to my mom about some of my pregnancy aches and pains and she said, "Well, at least some of that will get better when the baby drops..." In all of my smart ass wisdom I told her that, you see, all of the books say that the baby doesn't drop before labor in subsequent pregnancies, only the first. Boy, I hate it when I'm wrong!*

Apparently, they can drop before labor because, my friends, this baby feels like it's going to fall right out! Just like "the books" say, some of my pregnancy woes have decreased (Hallelujah! I can BREATHE! And EAT!) and some have increased (the pain shooting up from the exit point for this child is phenomenal and my bach aches like nobody's business. Also, I waddle which has resulted in injury - a post for another day, I suppose). The good news is that it might still be a few weeks before labor begins. The bad news is that it might not!

So, what does this all mean? It means that I'm freaking the frick out!! We are sooooo not ready. The crib? Still packed away in the room of terror. The car seat? Same place. I just ordered glass bottles (BPA and all) even though I'll be breastfeeding again. I haven't finished packing my hospital bag. We haven't picked out a name yet. The unisex newborn clothes are not washed. There's not a single stinkin' newborn diaper in this whole entire house (I know, because I looked). So, despite the whiny-ness of my post yesterday, I'm not sure that we are technically ready for this baby to be here yet. My body is certainly ready. Mentally, I'm ready. But, logistically? Nope. I guess I better get moving (and stop sitting around blogging;).

*Note: What my research says is that lightening occurs in a first pregnancy two to three weeks (sometimes longer) before labor begins, but in subsequent pregnancies may not occur until labor actually starts. Apparently, this means it can, it just may not. Shit.

I Am Done

Knowing that this will most likely be my/our last pregnancy, I have tried really, really hard to enjoy it. Aside from the colds/flus/bronchitis/infections, it hasn't been all that bad. Yes, I still have the aches and pains that increase with each baby, but I'm used to them. And I know that the end product? Is totally worth anything that my body has to go through.

But...I'm done. I am so tired of being pregnant. I want my body back. I don't mean my size 6 body. I just mean MY body. I've never been very good at sharing and this is no different. I'm done. I hate it that I can't bend over any more. Any idea how hard it is to clean up teeny, tiny, choking-hazard sized legos off of the floor with your toes? Yeah. It's hard. I can't play with my big kids any more. I haven't given piggy-back rides in months. I almost - without thinking - did a jumping jack with Baby Girl yesterday because she's trying to figure out how. I wanted to do one. Yeah, probably one wouldn't have hurt anything, but still. I miss being able to be physically involved in my kids' lives. I'm worried they won't remember that I used to play with them. We still do things together, but coloring, painting, and playing Ants in the Pants just isn't what boys want to do. They like to RUN! JUMP! HIT! USE LIGHT SABERS! On the up side, at least they have each other. And surprisingly, they try pretty hard (sometimes) to include their sister - who now prefers to be addressed as "Princess" instead of by her name...

And then there's this emotional crap. I'm so full of anxiety about this labor and delivery that I can hardly stand it. There's the logistically part - trying to make sure everyone knows all of the routines around here. Making sure there's going to be someone to pick Oldest Boy up from school if I happen to go during the day. Praying fervently that Mr. MOTH will make it home in time to get me AND get back down to the hospital before this baby does get here (Lord help him if I don't get me some drugs during delivery). Hoping that Youngest Boy doesn't have any asthmatic issues while I'm not here - because even though I know my family will do their best to care for him it's hard when you haven't had to do it. Heck, it's hard when you have done it!

As for the actually delivery, I just really don't want a c-section. Some people want to go through labor for different reasons - like a badge of honor or to make sure they bond or some other touchy-feely stuff. Me? I don't want a long recovery. Do you have any idea how much work 4 kids is going to be? If I'm laid up I can only imagine the state of our house/children. Not that others can't do what I do. But no one can possibly know all of the quirks that my kids have. There's just way too many. Plus, as I mentioned, bending over is impossible right now, so the house is already a sty. Anybody wanna come and mop my kitchen floor? I have the Liebman Wonder Mop (really, truly, the best mop ever invented). Anybody?

And then there's the baby. Our newest, sweetest baby who I have yet to meet but I already love with all my heart. I can't wait to hold you in my arms. Will you be a boy or girl? Will you look like your siblings or just be yourself? I don't care, as long as you're healthy. And if you're not healthy? You'll still be ours. And we'll all love you. My eyes fill every time I think about the morning last week when the kids all felt him/her move for the first time. Oldest Boy's eyes really lit up! Youngest Boy is all about loving on my belly now! Baby Girl, well, she'll adjust :) They're getting excited, too. And really, I just cannot wait until our family is finally complete - Party of 6, please. Party of 6.

Timing Is Everything

I started out at this whole "mommy" thing as an amateur (don't we all?) so in order to educate myself I read. A lot. There are books that go from one extreme of parenting to the other and I've read quite a few. One subject that they all seem to agree on in at least ONE way is potty-training. Nearly every expert agrees that you should NOT start the potty training process when there's a big change that's about to occur. They all give the same two examples - such as, moving or A NEW BABY! We are, dear readers, about to have a new baby. Apparently, no one told Baby Girl that she has to wait to use the potty (and apparently my Aunt Jo doesn't know this rule either, because she bought her a potty training book. I'm holding her personally responsible :)

When I was at the pediatrician with Youngest Boy this past week, Aunt Jo read Baby Girl her new book and then my daughter proceeded to produce on the potty (2 drops) for the first time. Great news! Unless you really don't want to be potty training right now. Really. Don't get me wrong, it would be Great! Fantastic! to only have one child in diapers, but the logistics of potty training while eleventy months pregnant are putting a damper on my enthusiasm. That, and the fact that the "experts" warn that she'll surely regress once Baby #4 appears, making all efforts in vain. So, what do I do? Proceed as if nothing unusally is about to occur and hope for the best? Put it off as long as humanly possible in the hopes that I'll only have to do it once instead of twice? What?

And she does show all of the signs. Yesterday, she took her diaper off in the living room, went into the playroom and produced both #1 and #2 on the floor. She had also taken her diaper off sometime during the night and was SOAKING WET when I went to get her up in the morning. Nice. She took her diaper off this morning when it was wet - and as far as I can tell she didn't, uh, leave any deposits anywhere. So she's ready. I'm not. HELP!

Baby Girl's L&D

This should be the last one for at least a few more weeks ;)

My official due date with Baby Girl was February 8th. I was having the usual aches and pains of pregnancy but much more pronounced this time around. EVERYTHING seemed more intense, but most especially my sciatica pain. The ladies at my MOPS group all encouraged me to visit a chiropractor for help in managing the pain. I took their advice and went to see a doctor who I had gone to high school with. Through an odd series of events, he had become very good friends with my grandfather. Strange, to be sure, but welcome. I mention this because during one of my (many) visits I can remember feeling a strange “pop” from the baby, something I had never felt before. I could still feel regular movement and I wasn’t having any pain, so I let it go. But looking back right after she was born, I distinctly remember it.

I should also mention that the ONLY thing that I was praying for during this pregnancy was that my water would break on its own. I figured if my water broke, labor was imminent (or we were at least having a baby soon) and I wouldn’t hesitate to call in my troop of baby-sitters. But, alas, as my due date approached it became obvious that I would once again be induced. January 30th was my first option (2 days shy of 39 weeks) and after talking to both of my SIL’s who had been NICU nurses, I decided that I would wait and I called and cancelled. They basically convinced me that unless there was a medically sound reason to induce, the best place for baby was still inside.

After much, much agonizing and many, many tears the second choice, February 6th, was scheduled at my next appointment. My mom had the day off, my aunt had taken the time off, and everything was a go. Sometime Monday afternoon (remember, my doc is a Tuesday gal), the hospital called to tell me that my doctor was sick (she was dizzy and kept fainting) and they wouldn’t be doing my induction the following day because it was elective and not medically necessary. So began the emotional roller coaster. I cried when I called every.single.person to let them know. I was a wreck. I had finally convinced myself that the baby was supposed to be born on the 6th and now it wasn’t happening. Oh, the tears! Mr. MOTH came home that evening and talked me off the ledge. We both knew we were going to have a baby sooner or later. We would just have to wait.

As I’m bathing the boys that night around 7PM, the phone rang. Mr. MOTH jokingly said it’s probably the hospital saying, “Oh, why don’t you just come on in!” He was RIGHT! OK, so now MORE tears and MORE doubt and MORE pregnancy-induced hysteria. Should we or shouldn’t we? Is it a sign yes or no? Finally, he grabbed my arms, looked me straight in the eye and said, “Are you kidding me?!?!” Needless to say, I called in the reinforcements and we headed off to the hospital at the ungodly hour of 5AM the next morning.

The hospital staff proceeded as usual and got me all hooked up to the monitors and inserted an IV. And then a nurse came in and said, “No one mentioned this to the doctor on call in place of your doctor. We’re not sure he’s going to do this for you. (which, by the way, is the complete opposite of what the doctor on the phone had told me the night before).” MORE tears. MORE hysteria. But he decided he could squeeze me in…

My last L&D had taken about 12 hours (WAY better than 31, but still). I expected this one to be similar because it was also an induction. About 2 hours or so after they had started the induction drugs my water broke. By itself. {SIGH} This just goes to prove that God does have a sense of humor! The nurses said that this was probably an indication that I would have gone into labor that day anyhow…

Sometime during the late morning a resident came by and was preparing to insert an internal fetal monitor. Nope. I put a stop to it. I told them if it became absolutely necessary to the health and well-being of the baby and they could give me a really good reason, then they could proceed. But you know what? If I hadn’t asked what they were doing, they would have done it without even explaining a damn thing. That pissed me off. She just said that the baby’s heart rate was dropping during contractions but they weren’t concerned. I told her to come back when they were concerned.

A couple of hours later (around 1PM, I think?), the doc doing the delivery showed up and checked my cervix. I was 8 cm and he told me it was time to push. I said, “Excuse me? Aren’t you supposed to be 10 cm?!?!” No response. They apparently wanted to get her out quickly because of the heart rate issues, but no one said this to me. They didn’t hesitate to put on the vacuum and pull her out. It took less than half an hour of pushing and she was delivered with the cord around her neck – which would explain the heart rate issues. Now, remember when I mentioned that “pop” feeling that I had at the chiropractor’s office? I’m convinced her head must have slipped through then. I sometimes do the “what if” game but I have to stop myself because I can’t even begin to imagine life without her…

I was overjoyed and completely shocked that she was a SHE! I had convinced myself we were going to have 4 boys (which also would have been just peachy). My SIL was planning to be present for this delivery as well and she got there approximately 2 minutes after Baby Girl was born. She was under the same impression I was…that we had some time!

And here we are, two years later, anticipating the L&D of this new wee one. I can hardly wait…

Youngest Boy's L&D Story

My pregnancy with Youngest Boy was a rough time for both me and Mr. MOTH. I was completely overwhelmed by the responsibilities of taking care of a new house and a new baby (although he was over a year old when we got pregnant again). At the same time it was becoming obvious that care for my mother-in-law was increasing and that it was going to be solely my responsibility. All of this coupled with the standard hormonal issues involved in pregnancy made me a complete nutcase. Really. I know you find that hard to believe…

As my due date of November 30th approached, it started to become obvious that I was probably not going to go into labor on my own BEFORE then. My OB is completely comfortable inducing anytime after 39 weeks, so after weighing our options and looking at the benefits (i.e. we could actually PLAN for someone to be home with Oldest Boy) we decided to go for it. Because she’s at the hospital on Tuesdays, I was induced on November 23rd.

I actually preferred this over going into labor on my own at the time. Looking back (and because we ended up doing it again with Baby Girl) I’ve started to be less comfortable with choosing their birthday.

Anyhow, the labor and delivery was pretty standard. We got to the hospital well before dawn and they started the induction within an hour. I did keep asking every.single.doctor who examined me (and there were quite a few) if they could tell if the baby was face up or face down. They even did an ultrasound and they STILL weren’t sure. Why is this so frickin’ hard?!?! I even asked one doctor (who happened to have a pretty heavy accent) if he would please try to tell for sure during the next exam. Well, when he was finished and I asked, he said, “I forgot.” I said, “That’s it! You’re fired!” I was kidding…he didn’t get it.

Needless to say, when my doc finally showed up for the actual delivery (with a resident in tow), that was the first thing I asked her. She couldn’t tell either. Seriously, folks, what’s up with that? So, during labor my L&D nurse (Kay) just kept talking about how wonderful my OB is. I really, really, REALLY wanted to avoid the use of a vacuum extraction again and I made that abundantly clear. Wouldn’t you know, half way through pushing they realized that he was ALSO facing the wrong direction (face up instead of face down – not breech). They mentioned the word “vacuum” and both Mr. MOTH and I paled. They said, “OK. Not yet.” And they lubed him up with more Vaseline than I’ve ever seen in my life. That did the trick and he was born without assistance! 8# 7oz!

My most vivid memories are: Needing chapstick like nobody’s business. Seriously. Since then I have no fewer than 5 tubes open and available at all times.

And that my dear SIL was there for the delivery (and she brought me chapstick!). I can remember her crying right along with me and then saying, “Yep. If I have a baby I am DEFINITELY having a c-section!” All I could think was, “If you think THAT was bad, you should have been here when Oldest Boy was born!”

OK. This is by far the simplest story. Baby Girl's will follow. And then? Hopefully Baby #4!

What Did You Say?

Yesterday Youngest Boy and I had a rough day. When I said something - anything - his response was always an adamant "NO!"

Me: Please turn off your computer and come downstairs.
Youngest Boy: NO!

Me: Please open the door to your room.
Youngest Boy: NO!

And on. And on. And on.

I took all of the kids to the park yesterday evening to enjoy what may very well be the last of decent weather for awhile. They had a blast (except maybe Baby Girl who only wanted to sit in the mulch and dig). This made it necessary for an immediate bath when we got home. As they're in the tub I said to Youngest Boy, "You and I have been butting heads all day long, haven't we?"

Youngest Boy said, "What? Did you say we've been buttheads?"

The beauty of it was that he couldn't understand why I was laughing so hard that I had tears in my eyes!! Sometimes, the misinterpretation is more accurate than the original statement...