Tuesday, May 12, 2015

33 Weeks Pregnant with #3

The Nesting! So much nesting!

I have never nested this hard in my life. Granted, the last two times I got to the end of a pregnancy I wasn’t living in a half finished house. So that could have something to do with it. A little bit. :)
But either way, the nesting bug got me good.
And I can’t say I mind. It feels so good to have the gumption to do stuff. And it feels so good to get stuff done.

To interject about how I feel Physically (I’ll come back to the fun of nesting afterwards):
 
Mess brought to you by nesting. I’m mid stuff everywhere stage.
Also, enjoy my dorky socks. It’s cold today, I didn’t wanna take them off for the pic.


I’m not sure how to explain it.
I do feel better than before. I have more stamina to get this nesting done. (But some of this stuff is done just purely under the “I think I can” mentality that I just have decided to muster after laying on the couch for so long. I don’t always feel like moving, but I’ve just started to anyway because I can’t stand it any longer. It might sound like I’m feeling awesome, but I’m really just feeling sick-and-tired of being sick and tired, and doing my best to ignore myself. Clearly I am better than before, because before this stuff wasn’t even an option. But the point I’m making is, I’m not feeling as good as the nesting pictures I’ll show you might make it seem.) I can eat more foods, I do get breaks from nausea now. Which is great.
     But I do still feel very subpar. I still have chunks of time where I am incapacitated (physically and mentally) by nausea. It’s nice that I get breaks now. But it’s also very disappointing when it comes back. It can be hard to keep from wanting to get in bad mental holes of sadness and impatience -- just wanting to be done being pregnant already, this is a freakishly long amount of time to feel like crap. (Weekly reminder: Please pray Baby comes at 38 weeks. That gives me a month left. And that’s about all I feel up to handling. Actually I would have signed off a long time ago if that was possible. My old normal was 42 weeks -- and two more months of this just sounds…to state it mildly: unappealing.)
     My body aches beyond reason.  Getting up after laying down, takes me about 5 (literal) minutes because of the pain that shoots through my pelvis is excruciating. I have to just do incremental movements, to slowly work the kinks out. There really isn’t another option. I can’t muscle through it -- its a pain that just stops you dead in your tracks. Sometimes just sneezing zaps my pelvis and hips with this same jolt of pain. Maybe it's sciatica, maybe not. I just know I’ve never had it before in pregnancy. And it’ started basically as soon as I got pregnant this time. My kids have started to ask if “I’m stuck” when I get up. And they have also started to copy me at times, acting like their legs hurt and they need to limp (when I know it’s just a strange sympathy thing, not any sort of real injury.)    
     There are many things about this pregnancy that make me feel regret for the way it affects my kids that are outside my body. Just one example (there are many more) --Jasmine has told me more than once that she will just adopt her babies so her stomach doesn’t have to hurt so much. I’m totally for adoption, and if she wants to adopt children that’s awesome. I just regret scaring her about pregnancy. That really just breaks my heart.  But it is what it is. I can’t change it. I do my best to talk her through it. But I have been laying on the couch and being a pretty lame mom for a long time -- that I can’t change.
     So all that said (and more not said), honestly, I get a bit aggravated when people kindly say something to the effect of me feeling better and how they are glad. I know they are being nice. And I do feel less bad than I used to. So I’m not holding it against them for saying it. I’m glad they don’t want me to feel sick. But when they say something so optimistic and brief, it just feels like trivializing what has been my life, for a huge chunk of time. And it feels like they are trivializing how I still feel -- which can still be horrible. (Like today as I write this, I feel pretty darn gross.) And it feels like they are rushing me to just stop talking about it already. (And well, outside the blog, I try not to talk about it much…. but if someone asks me how I feel, I like to be honest. And believe me, they most certainly get a very summarized easy version of what I actually feel like.) So I guess it feels goofy to me for someone to ask me if they don’t actually want to listen to me, or take what I’m saying as real, and instead just rush me off to a happy ending -- I’m so not at a happy ending right now. A month (or pray, not two) more of this, sounds very prison-like right now. So I think I’d really just love to hear “Wow I’m so sorry it’s been so hard. I’ll be praying for you."
     To be honest, even after baby is here I’m not gonna sign myself up for enjoying happy statements along the lines of “wasn’t it worth it” etc. (I’m REALLY not looking forward to those. I’m not sure how I will respond when it happens.) Clearly this pregnancy is a sacrifice with great reward, and I will forever be grateful for my child. And I am very aware that some people would gladly sign up for 10 months of feeling like death for a child. But I’m just not for pretending this pregnancy wasn’t the hardest, worst time of my life, by sweeping it under the rug and putting a happy bow on top. I can’t stop people from doing it but I’m pretty sure if they walked in these shoes they would have a much harder time sticking that kind of bow on it. This has definitely been the hardest thing I’ve gone through, after a string of hard things. (And I’m still going through it.)
     It has me processing God, Jesus, the Bible, and church differently. I’m not getting into it here, and I’ve not really come to my full conclusions. But I’m just gonna say there is a lot of suffering in the Bible and I don’t think we often touch on that as American Christians. (At least not where I’ve attended or listened in.) It’s not always victory and healing. And in the Bible, even after a victory (which many times came strictly through pain), people still mourn the hardships, they still carry those scars. I think God is big enough for that. (I mean the entire nation of Israel, right!?) (I mean, you try wondering in a literal desert for your whole life and then  not have any emotional issues when moving into a new country. It’s easy when it’s a kid’s Bible story, in Sunday School. “Oh you silly Israelites, so ungrateful, so little faith.”  It’s not when you actually experience it. If we walked those shoes I think we’d whine like them, or worse really -- I mean how many of us live with A/C, TVs, and pillowtop mattresses? I would HATE wondering the desert!)  People aren’t always up for dealing with people while, and after, they’ve been through a lot of pain though. We like to wrap it up. Get’r done. I’m very glad God hangs out with us suffering whiners long after we aren't any fun, and even after we question him, and even after we struggle in a new and good place he gives us. He keeps us as his people anyway.

That said, I’m not trying to dwell on this pregnancy’s horribleness. I’ve been really aiming for happier thoughts now when I can. And once the baby is here I really do wanna just move on and live my life and enjoy it. I don’t think I want to do much processing of this hardship -- the whys and whatnot.  I think I just wanna go on to enjoy our life together. My health is gonna be something all together new and wonderful to me after all this. But I just don’t want to ever attempt to say that this pregnancy was a happy thing in and of itself. It wasn’t, and I don’t need it to be. No amount of love for this baby is gonna change the fact that I literally felt like I was dying for months and months. I will be happy to have my baby. I’m not going to hold this pregnancy over them. I don’t wanna do that “you owe me, I carried you for 9 long months…” I know it’s not their fault. I won’t put that on them. But I won’t ever say chipper things about this pregnancy, I won’t try to figure out a way to put a positive spin on it. Beauty can come from ashes, but it doesn’t mean there wasn’t a fire. I’ll likely at some point say the inevitable “I’d do it all again to have you.” But that doesn’t mean it would be a happy chunk of time, doing it all again. (And thank you God that’s not actually an option!)


Anyway….
Nesting.
The fun stuff.
Enough with the heavy already!


The week started out with me kinda just recovering from that couch buying trip, and putting the couch together. I didn’t do much of anything for a few days. The house was looking really messy. I wasn’t cleaning. I wasn’t moving. I was tired. I was sick-feeling.
Here and there I scooted stuff around my living room, trying to figure out the layout of the back half of the room.
Then on Thursday suddenly the scooting turned into a look I was sort of into. And once that happened. Watch out world --- I was on a mission to make the whole house a home.
     We’ve had all our art and decor just leaning up against walls since we moved in. I couldn’t put it up until I knew what our rooms were gonna be like. But suddenly I felt like I knew. So I turned into this whirl wind of a stuff-mover-arounder. I just started to take mirrors and art and furniture from one room to another, and curating our rooms.
Now, for you to picture this accurately, you should know that at no point did I actually start cleaning before this process. Our family room looked like a toy tornado hit it and generously sprinkled food crumbs into the mist of them. Our kitchen table and countertops held more gross, than any adult should be ok with. Our laundry was piling up. But I just totally looked past it all, and focused on our walls.
     I’m learning something about myself. I can’t tidy well if things aren’t pretty to start with. And will never be good at putting things away until they have a official place to live.
     So as the walls were turning into good things. I was inspired to find good homes from our stuff. And as good homes for our stuff are turning up, I am inspired to clean.
     So you can see how this is a delightful process of nesting glory.
          Walls turning pretty. Furniture getting into the right spot. Clothes finding good homes. My heart feeling inspired towards total organization. Suddenly I clean off the table and pick up the toys and vacuum up the crumbs. Then I do laundry. Then I put the nesting cherry on top -- washing my wash machine. (I do this every pregnancy, it’s hilarious. It’s actually good to do. It’s just funny I get the urge while pregnant. I run a wash cycle of just hot water and bleach. I scrub off the agitator, and all the nooks and crannies of the lid, and bleach-pouring-in-spot, and the fabric softener spot. After that, I run a cycle of just water and vinegar. And then I always am sure to wash my white towels first after that -- just because I’m  bleach paranoid.)

I feel pretty delighted in how our house is suddenly feeling real (like a home, not just a messy reno explosion) and enjoyable.

Here’s a not so chronological picture story of what I’ve been doing.

It started with me arranging the living room.

It’s not done-done. But it’s room like.
We need a new lamp. That sliver stick with a light bulb on top is kinda a room killer. lol. But I think I have a fun game plan for lighting.

I almost thought those ottomans were done in our house, but I really like them in front of the fireplace. I’m toying with the idea of giving them a fitted cover. But they look ok now.

We are going to hang Blake’s guitars on the wall above the piano.

That lamp on the bench by the window….I found it free. It’s vintage and had a HUGE lamp shade on it. I threw the shade away because it was just hideous and HUGE. But now I’m questioning that move. It was too big, but so far I’m can’t find a shade that’s not too small. Does that one look wonky? I might just have to give away the lamp if I can’t figure this out. Which isn’t a loss. Just a puzzle.

That painting, over the fireplace, I also found for free. (With the lamp.) I thought it was pretty ugly and planed to do something to change it. But during my moving-stuff-frenze I set it up there and was kinda wowed by how great it works there. At least for now anyway. In person it just stands out so nicely amongst the white and black of the room.

I love that big mirror leaning there. But I plan to frame it out and secure it to the wall.


It’d be really cool to pull off something really fancy like this. We will see:
Via


The “art” over the amp over there on the right -- I like the concept of it being on the hangers. But what’s on there right now is invisible since my printer ran out of ink. :)

I’m still not SUPER sure about this back corner. But for now this is working for me. 
I’m not sure about the ottoman under the desk. (Workin that thought out.)
I’d like to add some shelves over the desk and a pouf like this picture has on the right here.
Via
After scooting stuff,  until I liked the room --  I replaced the broken handles on our gold fireplace cover, and then took that baby outside and spray painted it black.

That took me a day to get used to the change. But now I really like it.

Next I hung up art in the kitchen.


I want to get that coffee sign into a better frame that actually fits it. But for now I’m just getting stuff on the walls and off the floor.

That middle painting I found at the thrift for less than $3. And I LOVE it. It looks a lot like my favorite beach in Michigan. 
(Plus I feel totally validated in loving this painting because Emily Henderson’s all about vintage seascapes too! )

And then I just strung some cotton rope and clothes pins for displaying the kid’s art.


I’ve been on a hunt for a different nightstand in my bedroom. I have a lot of stuff stored under my bed right now and I don’t like how it get’s dust all over it. So I wanted a small enough dresser to be a side table. I found this baby for $30 at ReStore. It’s really a large filing cabinet. But it’s a great size for me. And the drawers are enormous so they will hold a lot for it’s size. Plus I like how far out the drawers come, being a filing cabinet works out really well for a corner right next to a bed. 


I primed it with boding primer.
And then I painted it black to match my other furniture. (I’ll show you a picture of it done, once I have the room set up better.) 
     I waited the amount of time the paint told me for recoating (24 hours!) for the second coat, in hopes that this won’t keep that tacky finish. It was SO hard to wait. And I’m still waiting to set stuff on it for like a week to help it cure too. (Gahh! Waiting!) But my last dresser never cured fully. It was a different brand paint, but still I don’t wanna risk it.

Oh random pregnancy side note:
Remember how last week I mentioned that no one has said I look like I’m "about to pop" yet? 
Well I did it, I jinxed myself. 
I went and got myself in to the most awkward pregnancy conversation of my life. (I don’t actually think I earned it. Just find it ironic that I said no one has said anything and then got this crazy event.)

Basically, it was a very elderly slow cashier at Walmart. She started talking to me before I was even up to be checked out (which made her even slower at getting anyone checked out.) Her first sentence to me was “You about to have it?” I told her in about a month. She told me I’d never make it that long. (I find it crazy how people think they can tell how old a fetus is and how safe it is for them to come out based on if they think you look round enough.) I told her well my other two were very late, so I hope this one comes early. (But of course I’m ignoring the fact she’s wishing me to have a premie.) She continues to say things implying I look very large. (I should note that I am a good distance from her, behind my shopping cart and behind the conveyer belt, and I’m short -- so I’m not even sure how much of my belly she can see.) And eventually just flat out asks me how much I weigh. 
She was mumbling and very hard to hear through this whole conversation. So at first I wasn’t sure she asked me that. So I asked her incredulously with eyebrows raised and mouth agape, “How much do I weigh?” She confirmed that yes, she wanted to know how much I weigh. I just laughed and stayed in total shock thinking all sorts of things before I finally realized she literally wanted a response so I just said “Oh I don’t know.” I really do wish I was better at come backs in the moment. But I suck at those. I wish I had asked her how much she weighs. Because to be totally honest, I think we’d come in around the same number. I have no idea what she was gonna prove. I can only guess she might be able to tell me she weighed 100 pounds full term with her babies. I don’t know. 
Anyway. The conversation continued on in a painful slow manner until I was finally checked out, and I left laughing out loud shaking my head.


Why do I tell you this story Right Now, you wonder?
Well because I have a great pendulum swing story to that one... while painting my dresser, I ran to the store in my paint clothes. I went into three different stores, struck up conversations at each. AND here’s the great part ladies….NO ONE said a word about my big belly. Each person said, “Looks like you’ve been painting.”

I’ve now solved pregnant women everywhere’s being-in-public annoying-conversation-issues!
Just leave your house in paint clothes and your belly becomes the last thing anyone wants to talk about. 
It’s kinda awesome. I may never shop in another outfit again!
Look at my lopsided bump -- that’s either baby’s butt or feet. :) I get most my nudges right there on the right. :) This baby’s still a mellow little one, just squirms and nudges, hardly any big kicks.
I’m trying my best to enjoy the feeling of the baby squirms (cause I really like baby squirms they are the best part and I miss them when I’m not pregnant) but it’s really hard to enjoy them this time. I don’t know if it’s just in my head or if it’s real, but I wind up imagining the feet pressing into my stomach are making me sick. There are some points where I don’t feel sick while baby is moving, so I try to soak those up as much as I can. I’m trying to connect with this kid a little -- so far it’s really hard to think about them at all, I just feel sick.

Anyway….
While I got to work on the dresser. 
Blake was AMAZING and started to work on my kitchen schemes.

I’ve decided to make our half-wall work as great as possible until our some-day kitchen makeover.
Since we moved in I’ve had this old radio cabinet working as a crappy pantry. I say crappy cause the inside still would need lots of help to house more stuff -- radio panels and drawers are still in there. AND because this is a really awkward size for the room.

We don’t have lots of counterspace. So I wanted a farmhouse style shelf/countertop to go around this “L” of the kitchen walls. And then reach through the window as a breakfast bar.

So Saturday Blake got to work on that!! I’m SO SO SO excited. It’s still in the works. But the room already feels like it makes so much more sense! It’s gonna be awesome.


We will build two shelves under here.
I plan to paint the legs and shelves white and stain the top (so that it's kinda butcher block like.)

Just for a visual, here’s someone else’s similar kinda thing.
Via

It’s gonna revolutionize our kitchen I tell you! I’m so excited.

So that was kinda my Mother’s Day gift. And I LOVE it.

It was a nice Mother’s Day for me. (Well, I actually felt really sick in the morning at church. We went early with Blake while he had worship practice. So I kinda just laid on the floor in the nursery to start with while the girls played, before church started. But whatever -- that’s just how I roll anymore.) This was the first year I didn’t really get any expectations set in my head about an idealized mother’s day. And that makes the day a lot better for me.  I remember that my first mother’s day as a mom felt pretty crappy because I was just so tired and it felt like nothing went right with my baby, and it felt so un-holiday-like. I’ve started setting my expectations better. (Basically I assume it’s a normal day. And so when normal things happen that’s ok.) Plus, Blake and I are a pretty great parenting team at this point. (Especially since he’s used to carrying my weight these days.) So he let me take a mother’s day nap -- and that’s all this momma wanted anyway. Plus, like I said, he started on my countertop Saturday. So major win all around.



Anyway. That’s kinda my week in review. (Well, plus Monday I pretty much just stayed on the couch. I was tired. I was nauseous. I wrote this post. And I did the rest of the laundry. And I ended the day nauseous enough to cry a little…. And then later, cry myself to sleep. Let’s hope next week has more of the better stuff.) I don’t know if the house looks like it’s coming along to anyone but me. (There are more rooms upstairs that have been tweaked without getting photos because they are just so messy you wouldn’t know they look better until I get stuff put away.) But to me, I’m suddenly feeling just thrilled with the difference. I’m in total denial that we could be at this point with the house. I felt stuck in “ew” (house work on pause due to ROUGH pregnancy) for so long I never thought it would happen.
I can see the light at the end of the tunnel!
I say bring it on. This nesting makes the house so much better AND it gives me hope my body really does wanna call this pregnancy finished soon. I hope it’s sending the “almost done” signal.

(I’ve decided I’m not gonna think about being pregnant past 38 weeks, just incase that has any emotional/mental bearing on my hormones. If it doesn’t happen, I’ll live -- Lord knows I’ve done long pregnancy before. But I’m just gonna keep telling myself I’ll be done in a month, hoping I’ll listen to myself. Pray, pray, pray!)






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