27 Weeks Pregnant with #3

So as you saw (in last week’s post) that this week started with me getting the flu. My mom was already in town because I essentially begged her to come, since last week I basically had a mental breakdown due to being sick for 7 months straight. I didn’t feel like I could take care of the girls anymore that week. I asked her to come be with us for a little while.
Being sick due to this pregnancy…. I don’t know if anything has ever stolen so much of my essence before….physically feeling awful for that long.  I feel like I’ve faced some hard to deal with stuff since becoming a mom, stuff that has made me question who I am, and how I deal with life. But being sick, for more than half a year, does more than make you question who you are -- it just takes away who you are. It just turns you into nothing. It starts to just eat away your brain and your heart and hope, until you are despondent. I’ve been sad before. I’ve been depressed at times. But despondent is a new thing. I don’t recommend it. Loss of hope -- like whole hearted, full loss of hope -- that’s about the scariest place I’ve been. I was to a place where I was bouncing between despondent, and just unfathomably sad and lonely, back to despondent….
That’s why my mom was in town. Right before she came I had cried for two days straight till I almost couldn’t open my eyes.

On Tuesday, when she got here, I tried to go out with Blake that night because his birthday was on Thursday and we were taking advantage of a babysitter being around. The date was so pathetic on my end. We went to the only restaurant that served food I could imagine getting past my lips. This resturant make really good calzones, and calzones were all I could eat that week. (Weird -- but the way I eat makes no sense anymore.) But I’d never eaten in the place -- it’s really small and not ideal, and well it was hard to breath in there because it seemed like they had burned something recently and the air was thick. I was having a really hard time eating at all.
We left, thought about going to a movie, but I couldn’t imagine sitting through one.
I had driven because that’s the only way I’ve been able to go anywhere in a car this pregnancy. But I was REALLY feeling queasy. I had to get into the car. Sit back, close my eyes, deep breath and mentally pep-talk myself to be ok to drive.
Instead of a movie -- we went back to Blake’s office to watch Netflix on his work computer. We figured well at least it’s out of the house. I sat with a garbage can next to me the whole time just thinking I’d be puking in it.
Walking to and from his office was making me feel horrible. I was literally afraid I was getting motion sickness from walking. I was pretty sure this would be the end of my brain. I didn’t see how I was gonna live until July this way.

Once I was in bed that night is when I figured out I have the flu. Chills, bathroom trips where you hold a garage can while using the toilet.
I freaked out a bit when it was coming on, because I was pretty sure my body wasn’t going to survive any more than the level I’ve been maintaing at. I just didn’t see how I was gonna do this.
But after a couple middle of the night sessions of this, I was able to sleep.
In the morning I asked my mom to stay longer (she had to call off work for me) and I slept most that next day.
At that point I was actually really happy I had the flu because that meant I wasn’t getting WORSE in my pregnancy sickness levels (like getting motion sickness from walking.) (Because that was just about more than I could imagine -- but was not gonna put it past this pregnancy to do to me. I just didn’t see how I could manage any more if that was happening. So you can see how I was glad it wasn’t -- the flu was good news.)

My mom wound up taking the girls home with her, on Thursday night, for the weekend, to give me a break. I totally cried. It was kinda a hectic goodbye. Jasmine had been kinda wheezy the days before, so I was nervous about her and we had to figure out what meds to pack. And we tried to pack some food -- with food allergies you always send SOME food with. (But food is impossible to think about while sick.) Ruby had stubbed her toe REALLY bad earlier and was refusing to walk on her foot. (Quite recently we’d taken each girl to the ER/Convenient Care over the past couple weeks so my brain was primed for hospital trips and bad news. I was worried her foot was broke….It wasn’t, but add hormones, and my own sickness, and well I was crying when she was crying.) But I was crying too because I felt like a bad mom after having been sick for so long, getting despondent, having a TERRIBLE time feeding my kids because I can’t stand food. (Add in you can’t do boxed/easy foods because they are full of allergens. AND I have a picky eater, who also is getting over a recent flu, making her even picker... Food is freaking hard in this house.)  I was barely able to sit through Blake’s birthday dinner that night because everything was turing my stomach -- but  I wanted him to have a nice family bday dinner with us. (My mom cooked most of it, Blake grilled the food. But I just wanted to be present. I sort of was, but I was no fun. And had to bail early to go lay down.) I wasn’t able to help pack. I was worried. I was sick. And I was feeling like a major mom-failure and my kid was crying. I totally just cried on the couch while my mom and Blake were getting the girls ready to go. And after they left I just cried for a while longer.

But once I calmed down it was so nice to have a break. My body was just done. My brain was gone.

Friday I slept till noon. And then I got dressed. I thought I could go to the store. After I got dressed I had to lay down. I cried. I was just done again. I freaking wanted to function.
I waited a while on the bed. And then I said I’m going to the store. I needed new sheets. Our bedsheets got a hole in them and I couldn’t stand it anymore (having been laying in that bed for so long.) And I needed a couple other things. Like a new toilet flushing handle (ours broke and I was tired of having to stick my hand into the tank to pull the flushing plug up.) I was just determined to find normal, or some level of normal for one second. I needed to go to the store.
Once I was out of the house I felt pretty decent. I wasn’t queasy. I didn’t feel like the flu.
Only problem was, my intestines didn’t agree with this idea. They still seemed to think they had the flu. And the would notify me of this, at the drop of the hat, in a very urgent message.
I was very glad of my large belly in this moment. Because the urgent message included the clause “You must waddle, awkwardly, to bathroom to save yourself from a very terrible, terrible disaster. Because one wrong step on your part will signal to us (the intestines) we are free to assume we are in the bathroom now, and do our thing, no questions asked.” A large belly, made this very pitiful, very fast, strange waddle towards the bathroom look pretty normal. I was glad no one could hear my thoughts in that moment. They would have revealed the terror I was in, for me, my pants and my dignity.

Somehow I was able to make it to the bathroom on time.

This same scene played out over and over all afternoon. I would feel fine. Think, “Ok now time to go buy this….” I would get to the next store, get near to the item, and my intestines would relay yet another urgent matter.

I bought some weird stuff that day. Nothing really went right, because when your intestines are running the show, they don’t care what you buy.

I wound up brining home cheap, polyester, navy blue sheets.
Between the trips to the bathroom, my line of thought was something like this (when not thinking “gah, must run to the bathroom”) I don’t want to spend a lot on sheets right now. I don’t know if my water is gonna break on them or perhaps pregnancy-birthy-baby-feeding-diaper-grossness could encounter them. Dark will hide gross. I’m going to throw these away soon. I don’t know. Why spend money.

The problem here is. I seriously can’t sleep on anything but cotton sheets. Especially when pregnant. I have to have cotton (not flannel) sheets and they way they breath. Everything else will just ruin my sleeping life. And sleep is really the only thing that’s going good during this pregnancy.
The other problem is -- navy blue sheets look gross in my room.
I’d spent like $28, I think, at Kolhs.
I took them back the next day. (Along with some other crazy buys -- intestines you are not allowed to run shopping trips anymore -- you don’t know what you are doing!)
But those sheets were the best deal I could find. Sheets are expensive! Cotton especially. (And remember I’m worried I’m about to ruin them with the state of my life.)
I went around town losing my mind. Starting to question if my addiction to cotton could be tamed.
Then I went to TJMaxx.
Ladies, if you need sheets -- start here. I’m starting here for sheets from now on.
They had a ton nice of options. And it was all the best deal I’ve seen anywhere. (All but one crazy brand that was $224.00! Which I got to witness an old couple shopping near to them and making hilarious old people comments about how the sheets better pat you to sleep for that price. But I mean, yeah, they kinda should. But other than that -- good prices!)
I wound up getting 100% cotton, 400 thread count, pretty color -- very light slivery grey (I had white last time and they didn’t stand up well, wanted to try something different, that wasn’t navy) Calvin Klein sheet set (fitted, flat and pillow cases) for $40. I mean -- that’s pretty fantastic. (I’d love a cheaper deal -- but so far this is a wow price in my world for cotton sheets that feel nice.)

Anyway. Enough about sheets.
Once I got home on Saturday, I was feeling really good.
And so I started to clean out our linen closet.

Before

After

I kept feeling good.
So I started to work on mudding the hallway upstairs.

And I kept feeling good.
So I started mudding the bathroom upstairs.

I kept feeling good.
So I stayed up till 2am finishing the hallway and bathroom mudding!

These walls were BAD from once-upon-a-time wallpaper. It took a LOT of mud to get them back to nice. At one point my hand cramped into an un-movable claw, that I had to run under hot water to get to release!

Blake had been working on insulating the sunroom. And we had no kids. So we were full steam ahead. (This was the first time I had felt good in 7 months -- I wasn’t gonna risk missing my chance to get this done.)

Sunday we of course wound up sleeping in past church. Opps. So we went back to work. My body was crazy sore. Like worse than the first time I’d tried 30 day shred while out of shape in general and postpartum. But I loved it. I was so happy to feel my muscles again. I almost couldn’t move but I said, hey body -- stop feeling the pain, we have work to do. And since I wasn’t sick, we moved until I stopped feeling sore.
I sanded the hallway and the bathroom. (We developed the technique where we used an orbital sander hooked up to our shop vac -- this makes it go way faster, and totally cuts down on terrible dry wall dust everywhere -- we highly recommend this technique.) It was really loud and I was a little worried for baby. But after the days of sickness baby is used to living inside a belly that literally makes dinosaur sounds 24/7, so baby didn’t flinch from all the sounds of power tools (what do power tools wield over dinosaurs? nothing.)

Then somehow I managed to quick-prime the walls, hallways and bathroom. (Just because I had used SO much mud -- I figured it would be good to throw some of our new drywall primer on there to get even paint coverage without three coats.)

Then then somehow I managed to paint the bathroom ceiling and walls!

(It’s hard to tell, but the ceiling is swiss coffee white, and the walls are dogwood blossom (essentially white.) (I tried out a couple whites before I started. It was pretty imporant to not use certain ones. One of them made the tile look really old and gross. This one made the tile look really fresh and good.)

I was an unstoppable machine.
And I was ME.
I felt like me.
I could think.
I could accomplish.
I was SO HAPPY.

I didn’t know if I was going to get ANYTHING done before this baby showed up. And I know how hard it is to get anything done after a baby shows up. I was starting to give up hope on finishing this house.
But getting SO MUCH DONE this weekend has just brightened my life dramatically after so much laying on the couch.

(Besides what I got done, Blake fixed some of our doors, 

We had 3 doors that wouldn’t close. They do now!

installed our doorbell,

Life is so nice with a door bell
instead of a bare wire and a note on the door saying doorbell broke.
It’s the little things ya know.

 hung some shelves, 

put up some hooks in the bathroom,

Aren’t these hooks pretty? Hobby Lobby.

 and insulated the sunroom.

After all that, I don’t know if I’m gonna keep feeling this ok or not. (I hope so! I pray so!) (But I’ve had a break before and went back to nausea. So I’m not jinxing anything and saying it’s gone. I’m just saying I had a good weekend.)
But this break was awesome.

Monday I had a prenatal appointment.
I discussed what I could do if the nausea comes back. (Basically everything I’ve been doing. AKA there is nothing that fixes it.) (So hopefully it does not come back. Pray for me!)
Checked on baby. Baby is good. Baby seemed head down. That’s nice. But I wasn’t worried.
That’s one thing is pregnancy has going for it. I am not scared at ALL to get baby out. I don’t worry. I know I can handle any kind of delivery. I’m very at peace with the getting baby out process. I wasn’t worried about if baby was ready to get head down yet  -- I’m all go with the flow on that.
When you feel like you are deathly ill for 7 months, baby head down or not is like... who cares.
But its still nice to hear. It’s also always nice to get some clarity on right where baby is -- so the wiggles become more identifiable. Like feel something and think “aww that’s your sweet little hands” or “hey little foot.”

Anyway,
So in summary, the week started out horrible. And ended fantastic.
I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to get out of the despondent hole that I was starting to worry would disintegrate me. I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to feel like Lydia again -- even for just a couple days.

AND
I can’t tell you how PHENOMENAL white bathrooms are.

Mindblowingly gorgeous, in my book.
I can barely stop walking up there to stare at it.

(The bathroom still has some work to get to my full vision. (New mirror, new light, shelves over the toilet. I think the walls are gonna get a faux wallpaper look, like this.  Paint the vanity. And new flooring.) But it's not yellow!!!! Fresh, clean white -- feels like spa now.)

Can’t wait to get this hallway whipped into shape next!

Anyway,
Yes lots of good news.
But if you’ ve been praying for me, please don’t stop.

Tuesday was very emotionally challenging me. It’s my first day back as full time mom. And the first two days back, after I take a mom-break, always beat me up emotionally. I don’t know how to take anything in stride. I think about way too much. I panic thinking about today until the rest of our lives. I feel majorly under-qualified. So there’s always that.

But add in I was feeling a bit queasy. And it was throwing me hard because I am super worried it’s gonna come back. And after my talk with my midwife I know there isn’t a cure. If it comes back, I go back to my hole. I don’t wanna go back.
With all that playing in my mind, it’s really hard to feed the girls. One is very picky, and I don’t know how to think up anything she will eat while I feel sick. It makes for a horrible merry-go-round of emotions for both of us.
I’m fighting some big stuff today.

Ok now I am adding photos on Wednesday…and I woke up with what feels like a very sprained ankle. Only I didn’t sprain it. It was sore after doing all that work this weekend, but all of me was sore -- not particularly my ankle. Then my ankle felt more sore yesterday (while I did nothing.) And then this morning I couldn’t put weight on it. The only thing I can figure is that I sprained it really bad in college, and relaxin is messing with my now-less-than-great ligament.
Hopping/hobbling around while in your third trimester is ridiculous, ridiculously hard. So you may have guessed I am back to crabby. (Kids don’t let you put your feet up. I’m trying to limit my walking, but…)
So that’s what’s with the wrap on my ankle.
I’m looking so pinterestingly pregnant this pregnancy.
lol I thought this pregnancy was gonna be my cute one. Nope. It’s my sick and lame one. Sorry I don’t think I’ll ever be your pregnancy fashion blogger. At least there are others out there fulfilling the role.

I’m honestly not going for the pretty pony leg pose -- this is the only way I can stand.

I wanted to do a side by side in this dress this time. (Would have been better last week -- but I was sick in bed.)

 

I guess I look pretty similar at this point. Despite the fact that I weigh close to 15 pounds more at this point in this pregnancy compared to last. This pregnancy hates me.

Someone tell me something happy about weight falling off. I so am not looking forward to doing this postpartum weight loss journey a third time! Me and food are so over eachother.

My friend sent me a link that claims women with fat in their butt and thighs makes for smart babies. 

(She knows how to entertain me.)

So I figure this baby must be so smart, that he or she knows that in order to get even more smart they needs to make me fat, to add to the smartness. Genius little booger! I’m not sure I like this plan. You seem plenty smart as is.

But I guess I’m about 10 pounds lighter than I was in this photo below.

So I guess maybe this can be like an average middle for me now?

Can I just say that to make myself feel less frustrated?

28 Weeks with #2

And for kicks, what I’m wearing today. And what I might be wearing LOTS for a long time. My new dress from Old Navy. Blake really likes it. That makes me happy. Even if I look like a total werido limping SUPER bad in it today.

Sorry for the long, emotionally penduluming post. I guess it makes up for last week’s short only sad one.