39 Weeks Pregnant with #3 (AKA. I hit my Due Date.)

It’s official. Baby is Due.

This week is another one I don’t take much pride in writing about.

My mom was awesome and took the girls to her house (and the cottage) for pretty much the entire week.

This was good because for much of the week I was emotionally done/non-functional.

I was still sick.
Now, to be fair, I have felt somewhat better this week, than I had been prior. I think that’s due to both your prayers (THANK YOU) and the fact that I started taking a full unisom pill each night. I had mainly been doing half a pill this whole pregnancy. I’ve dappled with a whole pill here and there before, without noticing much difference. (Actually, for a while there, I felt like taking a whole pill made me sicker than taking a half? Who knows.) But after my super sickness/false labor experience, I pulled out all the stops. I started taking the whole pill every night. And I also even did some dramamine before bed for a few nights, just because I was so, so, so in need of a physical break to get ready for labor. That did help with the nausea, but it also made me tired as all get out for the whole next day.
But even with all that said, the nausea still hangs out with me fairly regularly, it’s just either more tolerable, or kinda just comes and goes through the day.

So last week, I was very spent. I was very cry-full. I was very crabby (truth: crabby = angry, or maybe even more so, furious.)

I pretty much did nothing but lay around, and be huge, and mildly sick, and sad/mad.

I did have one day where I tried to suck it up and “be normal” so I went to the grocery store (by myself; It’s so weird thinking about how I used to do that regularly pre-motherhood) and bought stuff to make Blake and I dinner. (Which I seriously haven’t done once since getting pregnant this time. Seriously. We have lived off of Blake’s kindness of cooking once he gets home from work, leftovers, and random craziness for 9 months now.)
Doing that was all I had the energy for that whole day. But we had a really nice dinner together. I even got out some candles and used our fancy dimmer switch Blake installed a while ago, to dim our chandelier.

I would have nested while the girls were gone, like I had last time. But I mostly just slept. I was depressed, I literally just wanted to just stop existing.

As I got closer to my due date, I got more emotional because... for a while, I really did think maybe life would play fair for once and let me off the sick hook before my due date, but the closer I got the more I knew that wasn’t gonna happen. I felt pretty ripped off. I’ve done this whole “Please God, let me get this baby out” prayer-begging-insanity-thing three times now. The first time was facing an induction (I was terrified of) that happened and ended in c-section. The second time was in fear of that all repeating itself. And this time, I honestly could care less how the baby gets out of me, I just am so tired of being sick-pregnant, I’ve been begging to be done for what feels like my whole life.
I have a hard time reconciling some thoughts based on these (repeatedly) unanswered desperate prayers.

So I basically thought I might just emotionally boil into nothingness most of the last week.

Saturday morning I was doing my normal upsetness, I was planning on laying on the couch until I disappeared, when I was somehow able to find a sane thought to cling to.
The thought was just that,  "I’d like to have some pillows that make sense on my new living room couch. Maybe I could nest-shop." It sounded slightly more appealing than laying in an angry pile on an un-styled couch.

While I was out I decided that instead of being upset that I am upset (because it honestly feels horrible (emotionally) to feel this horrible (emotionally) -- you really begin to doubt everything about yourself. It’s easy to get in a bad mental whirlpool of inescapable upsetness over your upsetness.) So while I was out, I somehow decided not to feel upset that I am upset. I decided to see it as some kind of spirit-fire that means I can make it through this whole ordeal. I somehow landed on the thought of a horse (I think it was a bumper sticker I saw in the parking lot. Because I actually know very little about horses. Even if I come from a cowboy Montana blood line.) But I told myself (and I don’t actually know if this is true -- but just appease me if it’s not) that angry horses are strong good horses after they make it through the emotions. I imagined breaking a wild horse, and all the fury, and how later that could be the best horse you own. So I told myself not to be mad that I am mad, just know it’s a strange picture of the good that’s underneath the hardships. That kinda gave me the oomph I needed to stop wanting to disappear. It gave me the guts to say “Fine, I’ll use my anger to get to the finish line.”  (Since that’s all I have left inside to get there with anyway. And for most of the week I wasn’t accepting it’s presence, and it was just making me wind up despondent again.)

And the nice part is, after I got to that mental space, I kinda felt less angry.

I spent Saturday and Sunday shopping for my living room. Getting some throws and one pillow for the couch. (I was gonna get three pillows, but then thought, “No, less is more, with kids who love to throw all my pillows on the floor regularly.)

and some fabric I plan to cover my two ottomans with.

And I also cleaned all our bathrooms, and cleaned up the toys and dishes Sunday morning before the girls got home.

By the time they got home I was in a surprisingly sane place. Thankfully it was the smoothest transition I’ve had back into motherhood after a break, that I’ve had. I was really, really happy to see those little faces.

And I decided to fixate on the fact that it can’t be any longer than two weeks till I’m done with this pregnancy. (Well, I do know there are rare past 42 weeks occurrences, but so far I’ve signed off at 42 weeks on the dot, so I’m not gonna think about a week 43.) And knowing there is a concrete end in sight feels way better than that “Well anything from now, until a month from now” which sets in around 38 weeks. That’s such a vague abstract annoying time to me. At least now I can say something less vague. At least that’s the spin I’m taking.

Sadly this time frame, once again, overlaps my oldest’s birthday.
I know my induction/c-section scarred me because, thus far, every year on her birthday I get some pretty hard emotions. They come on in a physical non-repressable way. They literally just occur to my body without my mind’s consent. (Of course by that point, my mind can’t really stay out of the deal.)

 I hate that her really happy day, is a day my body just totally sabotages for my mind. I hate to think I’ll make her birthday a bad day. I always try to overcome and celebrate for her. Last year I did pretty good, internally, on her birthday. I thought maybe I’d be past the trauma from now on. But man some years are really hard. And definitely being pregnant (and potentially delivering) on her birthday is emotionally trying. (How on earth have I done this baby having thing at the same exact time of year each and every time? That is so weird. It wasn’t like some kind of goal we aimed at. Just happened.)
     So this morning the body stress just set in. (Well actually I felt it setting in last night before I could fall asleep.) Nausea (and I could feel the emotional aspect of it, not just the normal pregnant stuff), hands shaking, foggy mind, super high stress emotions.
     Once that starts it’s so hard to not feel worse because I know it’s a happy day, not a sad day. But the trauma of how I got to the happy part of the day, and the knowledge that I’m still not totally healed up over it, just overcomes me physically. I’m sure being full of pregnancy hormones is totally unhelpful for sanity saving.
     Thankfully I was able to cry a smidgen and get some of the worst part out -- like the nausea and hand shaking. And I’ve been less overwhelmed since.
     And I got a really sweet phone call today too. That helped a lot. ;)
    After that phone call Jasmine asked me “What’s your birthday story?” (meaning my end of her bday story) (I guess Blake had told her his) and I was able to tell it very well, without crazy emotions. And we looked at photos. (I haven’t been sure how to tell her about a c-section, especially since we watched a birth video, in prep for this baby, and I don’t really wanna get into all that right now, so I just told her a doctor helped me get her out of my belly.)
     I definitely looked forward to Blake getting home to kinda pick up the celebrating slack for me.
Once he got home we went and bought some birthday fish for the girls. (Ruby’s bday is 16 days after Jasmine’s I figured it’d be best to get both a fish on the same day for sanity reasons. :) ) That was so super cute.

They each picked out their fish. 

Jasmine picked a blue one and named it “Moonlight-starlight” (all her names are epicly hippie lately.) And Ruby picked a red fish and named him “Lion.” (Which it is often followed by a roar sound.)

     Jasmine’s been asking for a pet for a while now. And with our allergy stuff, a fish is a good one. (Honestly even that was a bit of an emotional mental workout. Blake pointed out that fish food may have shrimp in it, and that’s an allergen for us. We weren't sure how wise that would be, having her handle the food... but how lame to not get to feed your pet. So I researched and we figured out dried blood worms are great food for Betas and those aren’t shellfish. So problem solved. Well other than the fact the food looks and sounds really nasty. lol. )


Oh and just to keep track of more life details. Our A/C broke Sunday night.  We made due. But Monday night while I was hanging up bday decorations I was sweating like a beast. 

Thankfully a cold shower was a great cure. And then it cooled down overnight. So our house was pretty comfortable today with no A/C. And Blake was able to get the part we needed and fix it this afternoon! Phew!! No more sweaty pregnant momma. (I’m endlessly, always grateful that I was born into modern conveniences. I would be so bad off without them.)


Anyway,
I have no idea when baby wants to show up. Other than the weirdness of birthday stuff today, I’m feeling pretty emotionally stable about it all currently. I’m sorta grasping the concept of a baby now. I’ve gotten some labor bravery back.
I don’t have any symptoms I think are saying anything about “when” (mainly because I had no predicable signs last time.) I’ve seen a couple "maybe that’s some show/some plug" instances -- but that never meant anything last time (I think I had that going on for like a month before Ruby was born.) I’ve not had many Braxton hicks contractions this pregnancy. (Had TONS last time.) But the ones I do have I can feel pulling on my cervix like a labor contraction. So they often get my attention, but they don’t get my hopes up.
I’m gonna try and just stay as sane as possible and wait.
I keep telling myself "what’s two weeks?", if it’s two weeks.

My hand is on baby’s bottom.

I have definitely reached the “I feel huge!” stage over the past week. (Here I attempt to depict that.)

At my appointment this week I was measuring 37 or 38 weeks. Which honestly surprised me. I don’t know that I ever have measured less than my actual weeks. (Earlier I was measuring WAY past my weeks. Apparently my uterus is a rule breaker... Such a rebel, really, she breaks all the rules.)  But I think at the end the measurements are kinda “whatever” anyway, based on how baby’s lowering down and such.

I asked if baby feels “enormous” because suddenly I felt like baby grew huge in the span of one evening this past week. (Meaning both in regards to how my body feels crazy tight and big all of a sudden; but also due to when I try and feel the baby through my belly, baby feels like it’s everywhere to me. Not really, but just like “Wow that’s a lot of baby.") But she said “No not huge. Baby feels somewhere between medium to large…newborn-wise.” Which honestly sounds pretty normal for me (I had a 9 pounder and an 8lbs 6oz-er), so I was cool with that response. (Much better than “Enormous.”)

My weight has stayed kinda steady for the last month or so. Which, you know, I’m cool with. But I don’t have anything riding on it staying put (and I haven’t been doing anything to control it at all. Ice cream is still one of my nausea cures…so...) One part of me was like “Is this ok?” but, it’s not like I didn’t gain enough before hand. So it kinda helps me feel better thinking the baby’s not packing on “enormous” if I’m not seeing the numbers really move. Either way I’ve decided to firmly believe my body won’t make a baby that’s too big to fit out. (A real fear I had last time.)

At the last few visits baby’s heart rate has been in the 130s. Which supports the old wives tale "boy vote." (I don’t actually believe in any of those tales, but I do think that my girls had higher heart rates, so who knows.) We shall see.

I am hoping baby wants to say he or she is done growing inside me, and ready to grow outside. But either way, it can’t be too much longer.

I just kinda hope to avoid the 4th of July. I’d like to either be pregnant or, already-not-pregnant that day. I was hoping we could go see Fireworks. Time will tell.