35 Weeks Pregnant with #3

Well, this past week I cried. A lot.
To be more accurate, I wept…hysterically…a lot.
I was feeling particularly nauseous. And since the baby has dropped, walking has been painful --- at times unbearable. And I was feeling just completely unfit for existence.
The thought of two more weeks until I would be allowed to be done (meaning 37 weeks - to be full term) just sounded like more than I could muster up.
You would think that 2 more weeks would sound doable after having gotten 34 weeks out of the way. But it’s all relative, ya know. It kinda felt like I’d run 34 miles in the desert, and now I’ve sprained my ankle, and run out of water, and I have 2 more miles left.
So there were at least two days where I literally couldn’t stop crying. I would think I got all the tears out, and after an hour I’d have a whole new shipment show up. I thought my face may just fall off --- my skin was peeling off my nose, and my eyes were crazy sore and puffy, and the rest just felt raw.

Eventually I got out of the depths of despair. I’ve been pretty ok since. With a little bit of despondence in between.
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May I just insert here --- Not me for (I’m almost done here), but for any other moms you might meet: If you ever talk to a mom who’s going through, or gone through, a very sick or difficult pregnancy….just say, “Wow I’m so sorry.”

I’m not trying to talk down to anyone who is kind enough to read this. But I’ve just heard so many frustrating things this pregnancy I feel like it’d be worthwhile to share this stuff in case it helps another momma out.

When people try and say much else to me it so often sounds really mean and uncaring. No matter their actual intent.
If you’ve ever felt sick for a very extended amount of time you’ll know what I mean -- lot of things that are attempts to encourage, are actually horribly discouraging, and/or belittling, and/or dismissive. Instead of trying to figure it out (which is probably impossible, because the sick person probably can’t even do it), just say “I’m so sorry.” Be willing to imagine being in the pain (not past it) and how’d you’d likely just need a hug ---- Like a toddler who’s just scraped their knee -- you just pick them up and comfort them. If you aren’t comfortable giving a physical hug, give an emotional-validation “hug".

(Let’s give some serious, heavy consideration to the fact that when Jesus got to Lazarus’ tomb after Lazarus had died and Jesus saw everyone crying, he cried --- actually He wept. (Having been doing some weeping this week, I can tell you it’s a strong reaction.) It doesn’t mention him saying anything, He just felt and acknowledged the pain even though he knew it was going to be healed, changed and fixed. I personally can’t get over how wonderful that is for so many reasons.)


    If this experience of mine was an illness, not pregnancy, I know I’d get better, kinder, more considerate responses from people as a whole. (I mean the general public, not everyone who’s talked to me. I do have kind support around me as well.) But that sucks. If someone feels bad, someone feels bad. Please be kind. Please don’t belittle pain. You’d be shocked how often I get responses that imply it’s all in my head, or that can’t be that bad. Like “That’s just pregnancy for ya.” (Stated by someone who’s nausea was by the book. Or it’s said by someone who has never been pregnant -- like sometimes a man will go there. He knows?) Or some will do the same but, opposite, and basically say that’s not how pregnancy works, because that’s not what happened to that mom. (So I guess they mean I’m lying when I say I’m sick still. And... if I was lying, they are definitely overlooking the fact this “lie” is doing nothing for me -- clearly it’s not gaining me their sympathies! Why would I lie about this?)   Being looked at like you are lying when you say something hurts (physically or emotionally) is one of the hardest sensations I know of.
     Believe me, I know this isn’t “normal” or standard. I’ve had two “normal” pregnancies. (Ones that actually reflect what’s written on all those “what’s happening this week" pregnancy websites.) And now I’ve had this pregnancy. (I had NO idea what I was signing up for this time.) This is very, very, very hard. And very lonely.
     Apparently sick-feeling-pregnancy can happen to anyone, but clearly doesn’t happen to everyone. Just because you haven’t been there, doesn’t mean it’s not a very, very real place. And stating “facts” about a place you’ve never been can make you sound pretty crazy.
      So, if a momma says she’s suffering (She doesn’t necessarily have to look like she feels bad. You shouldn’t need to be convinced), she is doing nothing but being honest, and hoping someone will be kind to her.
 
     Personally, the response I most welcomed most from a mom who hasn’t had sick pregnancies was this:
“Wow I have no experience with that, and I just have so much respect for mom’s who’ve had to go through that. I can’t even imagine.” (All said with kind eyes and true sympathy.)
That felt great compared to hearing pretty much anything else you could say if you haven’t been there.

And by the way, saying “It will be worth it.” sounds insensitive to the pain when you are in the middle of it. Mommas are aware the end result is a baby. But that doesn’t change how hard the time between conception and delivery can be. And how terribly long that is to feel horrible. If she wants to say “It will be worth it.”-- she’s the one experiencing it.  But if you haven’t experienced something similar, it’s not really something you should say. (That’s not to say it’s not worth it. It’s just not a great idea for you to say it.)

All that, and more, is why I’m telling you to just say: “I’m so sorry.” You can’t go wrong with that.
But just FYI. If it makes sense, and you have it in you, and are close enough --- you can cry with the momma. This is that kinda situation. 
(*Wait, I take it back, you don’t even have to be close. I almost cried on a nice cashier who sympathized with me for 3 mins, a couple weeks ago. Her eyes filled up too. You can be pretty sure I love her now. Even if I never see her again.)

The other big thing I like to hear is, “I’m praying for you.” I like it simple like that -- no further description is needed. I can’t misinterpret that statement. (Hormones feed by sickness: they love to misinterpret things.)

And, personally, I will love you forever if you say "I’m praying baby comes out soon", without a caveat. Add a caveat, and I’m not putting you in the same 'love you forever' category -- you’ll wind up with internal, hormone-wrath instead -- sorry, it’s just the way it is. No one wants to hear, "I’m kinda hoping you’ll have just a couple extra weeks of feeling like you’re dying.” We’re all adults , we get the uncertainty of birth and timing. Just wish happy things without logic. (I’ve lost all logical ability a few months back anyway.)

Summary: Believe sick mommas. (She’s probably not even told you the half of it.) Love sick mommas with whatever level of sympathy you can muster. And just an “I’m so sorry” can be enough healing salve for the day.

End Speach.
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Anyway, so yeah, nesting kinda went on hold, at least in regards to me accomplishing it. Being 35 weeks, and feeling like the baby was trying to fall through my cervix while walking a just few steps is confusing. If I was full term I’d be like “Heck yeah! Come on out baby!” Embrace the pain and let the baby press on out.

I think he or she look's low. Compared to:

(And I actually haven’t gained any weight these last two weeks (for once!) so that’s just all baby position shift.)

But I’m not full term, so I don’t really know if it’s good to feel such intense sensations on my cervix quite yet. It’s a confusing mental equation….  "So in the past I’ve gone to 42 weeks. This time I want to be done ASAP. When do I embrace the “get out now” stuff? Do I need to counter act the old standard of 42 by going crazy at 35 to balance towards the middle? Or am I risking having baby a tiny bit too early if I do that?”
I just went with my gut which said, “Now is not the time to do anything. You should rest it out this week." So I was pretty much living on the couch all week. (Loving my new couch though! SO comfortable. Shockingly so.)

And that’s so disheartening. I have a list a million miles long of things I could get done before baby arrives. But oh well. Honestly part of me thinks that I’ll think getting stuff done with a newborn around is a piece of cake after feeling so sick for so long. (If I’m wrong, I’m wrong. At least I’ll not feel pregnant. I can always get stuff done later. None of it really matters in the grand scheme of things.) (But my nesting hormones aren’t quite so willing to embrace that idea. That’s why it’s so hard at the moment. It’s like my body just is in constant battle with itself. “I want you to do ALL THE THINGS, only I’m making you ALL THE IMMOBILIZED!!)

So I’m very happy to be one week closer to full term right now, as I type.
Next week I will be full-on embracing the “come out baby” world.
I’m not sure it will look anything like it did last pregnancy(ies.) I actually feel pretty confident (wrong or right) that I know my body this time and I’m just gonna go with my gut again.
I’ll be skipping the pineapple, cumin seed tea, the castor oil, and google. None of those helped. Primerose oil didn’t seem to do much. Membrane sweeps (all 7 per pregnancy) had no affect on me. So I’m skipping that too.
I’m spending tons of time on my hands and knees. (That gives baby room to get in best position, and good positioning helps bring on labor and aids in labor’s progress.) I’ll be walking my neighborhood, letting baby get down on my cervix. I’ll be traveling up and down my stairs. letting my pelvis open more. But the main thing I will be doing is just getting my emotions in check.
Looking back on it now, I can see that the night Ruby born was the first time during that whole pregnancy that I emotionally relented to the whole idea of birth. Every second before that, as much as I wanted to VBAC, I was partly holding back in fear. The night I finally went into labor was the very first time I said to myself, “Just let go.” And I embraced a “Who cares? It will happen when it happens, and it will happen how it happens.” Which in that instance was the first time I let go of fear, and basically unclenched my emotions, and un-tensed my body. And I think that openness was what let my body finally open.
So this time I’m just gonna open, open, open with my mind. I don’t care who thinks I’m crazy (or even if my brain wants to tell me I’m crazy) this is what I’m set on. I don’t care if it doesn’t work. I think it will. And I think that’s key.

So now the goal is to just survive one more week without the ability to start that process.
Just the knowledge that it’s allowed to end at any moment with be such a welcome relief. It will feel like the rescue raft is pulling me back to shore, instead of me just treading water alone out in the ocean.

My pinky, at the bottom, is touching the baby’s butt. Above is lots of space.

Anyway, about this past week:
Probably the biggest event was we had our huge honey locust tree taken out of our back yard.
It was an enormous tree. I thought it was lovely. It had fairy tale curves. And initially really wanted to try and save it. But it was sick. And it hung directly over our house and our neighbor’s house. And to make matters worse, last summer it gave one of my daughters hives from it’s seed pods. So it crossed the momma bear. And I was ready to say goodbye to it.

Poor Jasmine though. She cried. She wanted to make it better and let it live.

So being that it was enormous, hanging over two houses, as well as power lines, and inside a fenced not too large back yard made us know this was not a DIY kinda event. Blake’s cut down his share of trees himself. But this was something different. Actually the only way to have this removed was to use a company who has an enormous crane that can hoist the limbs up over our house. 

This was expensive.  Very expensive. And we had our back and forths about if somehow we could possibly DIY to avoid the cost. But after they got started and we watched the process we KNEW we had spent smart money. There would have been no other way to remove this tree.

They started by cutting a branch that had grown into/through another branch. Right in the top center you can see the strange divot it just fell out of. (Just the fact the tree had done that made it possible for that branch to break and fall on our house.)

Here we are watching him climb around from our upstairs window.

Here’s a limb flying up over our house.

Another one being lowered down.

Some of these limbs were literally bigger than the trees in our front yard. (Not this one. It’s hard to capture really big ones with the camera from inside a window.)

Saw dust going everywhere.

A floating trunk.

There’s the huge wood chipper. It didn’t eat those logs laying there. (A big truck came and got those later on.) But it ate everything else whole. (Like the branch that looked like a small whole tree, up a few pictures ago.) It was crazy. 

And now, our sunny back yard. 

Someday we can grow a garden now. That’s exciting!

   
So besides that excitement….

Blake’s been really sweet and has helped me get a few of my “musts” done while I’ve been immobilized.

Recently I’ve been trying to get our bedroom to really feel like a done master bedroom. Part of that was the end table/dresser I painted a while ago.

And now I’ve been working on the decorations. (That white lamp was a $5 brass lamp I made over and love.)

But a big thing I got fixated on was the light fixture aspect.

    The ever present dilemma of form and function meeting in the sweet spot. Blake and I both said we’d like a ceiling fan in the room. (I, of course, struggled to admit it. Since light fixtures are so much more stylish. But I have grown to love having a fan on at night.) So I set out to find something that would appease my style issues.
Pinterest, Pinterest, Pinterest.
And online shopping, shopping, shopping.
(Good thing I’m glued to the couch, right?)
At first I was gonna say yes to this fan. Because it’s pretty for a fan. But after measuring how large it is -- it was gonna look enormous in our space. I had to say goodbye to it.
Then I was trying to find another pretty fan.
And pretty fans kinda don’t exist. If they try to go chandelier, they just look like a fan playing dress up. There are some sleek fans out there. But they didn’t feel like the right direction for my room. And some of them that MIGHT BE a fit, were crazy expensive.



THEN I found this picture.


This room almost took my jaw off. I love it so much! I am seriously wanting to steal her paint scheme for my bedroom…. someday…. when I have the strength. (For now I plan to enjoy my current scheme.)

Via

Creator of this space, Kristin Jackson, of The Hunted Interior said about her fan,  "Now the one thing I knew going into this project, was that there was no way I would be able to get rid of a ceiling fan in our space.  That is the one item my husband has to have!.. So if I was going to be putting a fan in this space, I had to up the style factor. I went with an uber modern, clean design but decided to pair it with a very traditional ceiling medallion.  This was a great compromise for both style & function.”

This sounded brilliant to me. Like mind blowing. “Yes. This IS the way to treat a fan.” It just works.

So I started to trying to find my fan and my medallion. After much looking. I thought, “You know what? None of these fans that I can easily buy, are all that modern-glorious for the money…. I actually really like the shape of my current fan.... Let’s just spray paint it white. It’s not modern, but I think it will be cute.”

So with that in mind, I didn’t feel bad spending a chunk of change on the medallion, because I wasn’t buying a fan. I was thinking I’d spend up to maybe $60 on a medallion. But as fate would have it, my favorite option was only about $30.  At one point I would have baulked at spending more than $20 on a medallion --it’s just a medallion is something that sounds trivial. But this experience has TOTALLY changed my mind. In the end, between my medallion and the spray paint (I also started with a metal primer spray paint, just in case), I only spent about $40 for what feels like a whole new room!

     Getting this fan down, and outside to paint, and up again, plus medallion up has been part of Blake being very kind to my hormonal mess of myself. (Plus hanging a couple mirrors and curtain rods.)
 

     Now that it’s done, I am seriously blown away by how different the room looks. It’s SO worth $40! Blake is equally as wowed. He said it looks like we ripped it out of an old theater. 

(I made my bed for you, but sorry, I didn’t clean off my big dresser. I can only give you so much. Some day I hope I can go back and use a real camera and do some Pinterest quality shots. But that might just never happen.)

It’s shocking to both of us how snazzy this small light makeover wound up being. I haven’t gotten over how great this medallion is. It really makes our room feel like the master bedroom. All our home’s bedrooms are squares and just about the same exact size. (Our's has a bathroom attached, but visually the room wasn’t any more masterful than the other rooms.) But now, suddenly, this room commands some serious respect. 

I’m having to fight the urge to go medallion-nuts and just glue medallions to every surface of the house because it’s just so moving to look at this one. lol. (I’m not gonna really put them everywhere. But, I AM thinking our entryway is gonna get one when we get to that area. I just don’t think I can resist. We’ll see. But correction to earlier statements: I don’t think the entry will be attempted before baby arrives. Time schedules aren’t lining up for that. But that’s ok.)

So I’ve been enjoying my room a lot more now. And I keep having happy thoughts about how good it will feel to have that done with the new baby and me spending a lot of time in the bedroom. (Even if we are only talking night feedings, that’s gonna feel ritzier now.)

     The room isn’t done, done. I need to get that mirror (that I keep taking my pregnant pictures in) off the old closet door and framed out properly. And We still have no closet doors. (I have no idea how I want to handle them. Form and function are both feeling tricky to me. I don’t know what I want them to look like. And I don’t know if I want bi-folds, or sliders (which I hated so probably not), or…. I wish I could do french doors -- but they will take a ton of space with the doors open it’s an 72” opening. I can’t figure out the best idea yet. It’s a head scratcher. ) Also I’d like to revamp the closet layout at some point. But the rest of the space is feeling pretty dang good. And I LOVE that! (I love that I get to decorate finally! Not just get the prep work done.)

The other exciting thing I did was find this amazing vintage piece 

for….
wait for it….
$10!!!!
I was at Goodwill, and got weak in the knees when I passed by this baby. It was one of those “oh…no…you are way out of my league, hot girl, I can’t even….” moments.

I know these telephone chairs/ gossip benches are defunct now with cell phones around. But for some reason I had gotten it in my head that I’d really like one, a few months ago. But I had been inspired by older ones of a different style. Something more like this.

 I had NEVER seen one of this era. I didn’t realize they were still a thing at that point. So when I saw midcentury legs on a telephone chair…in a Goodwill, in person…and with a cool upholstery (had never seen one of these benches with upholstery either!) I honest to goodness got week in the knees. (My love for vintage decor is strong.)

I cautiously approached, side eyed the price tag. $10.00 But the way it’s written there was no decimal point, the decimals are just written tinier than the dollar part. 

So I immediately thought it said $100. And totally agreed with that statement. I thought, "Yes, this is thrift store $100s of awesome because on Etsy you should be like $400.” (See this old Etsy listing for proof.) I then decided to enjoy it where it was for a moment before I said goodbye to it. I sat in it. I caressed it. I looked one more time at the price tag and now noticed the two zeros were smaller than the first. I checked the second price tag stuck on it. Wait…. are you serious? $10!?!?!?
TEN DOLLARS!?!!?!?
At this point I’m doing the suspicious looking over my shoulder, and wondering if this is for real, while wanting to shout crazy things.
Thankfully a couple different nice men helped me get it both to the register and to my van. I was trying to do it my(round)self (It’s not super heavy, just slightly too heavy) and they took pity on me. So nice.
(Don’t you love how I completely lose my sense of pre-term labor fears when finding vintage treasures? So logical I am. But you find a bright spot in your sick life and you run with it straight to the cash register, before someone else can buy it first! Amiright?)

I have no idea if you are as in love with this thing as I am. If you are not that is good, because you won’t hate me for finding it for only $10! But if you are. Let’s virtual high five and wipe some tears from our eyes and have a moment of loving staring silence.

The seat needs some TLC. One leg is kinda weird, the brace is bent or something so that one leg seems shorter, even if it’s not really. And it needs some major cleaning. (Been too tired. Normally I do it the second it gets in the door.) But once again. Ten Dollars. The legs should cost $10! If for some reason I wake up and hate this thing ever, I should clearly sell it on Etsy for $400 and make myself $390!

I kinda switched the back of my living room up a bit. And with this piece, I think we are onto something. Getting very close to a “finished product” set up.

This is a terrible picture. But on the left is three old couch cushions I think I will recover to be sorta like this:

And the pink thing is a bean bag chair I think I’ll recover sort of like this:

And maybe someday get really ambitious and created a knitted pouf from it?

The next thing we need to do in the living room is hang up our guitars. I think that will fill out the look nicely.
Someday we will frame that mirror and secure it (Before baby can move, or I’ll put it away before baby can move.) I’ll work on getting rugs and lighting. And a second coat of paint in my somewhat blotchy french doors.

I also need to sand and paint a few more wood outlet and lightswitch covers for the living room, reading room and master bathroom. I think I can get that done soon. I hope.

My only other real nesting needs is organizing the guest room. I kinda let it blow up with crafts and fabric and chaos as I cleaned other spots. I’m hoping to get that under control this week, so it will be ready for baby visiting.
And well, the baby’s room is still a mess. You’d think that’d be numero uno on the nesting list. But I have no delusions of the baby using that room until months after they get here. I sleep much better with baby in my room to start with. And even if for some reason they did need to use the room (due to reasons I can’t even come up with?) I also know babies have zero clue how cute their room is. The biggest concern is how well I can hide the sun from their eyes in the early morning! So actually the baby’s room is last on my nesting list. I’ve pretty much just started picturing cleaning their room with them along side me.

So I’m trying to tell myself to squelch the nesting urges -- I want nothing impeding going into labor. I have no unfinished business.

When people ask me when I’m due I’ve just started to tell them I’ll be full term next week. Which pretty much confuses them to death. But I need to word things in the most positive framing I can come up with.

Pregnancy side by sides:
(I think these photos have always been the least comparable. Since I wore such weird clothes for a picture in Pregnancy #1)

 

Ok, and to inspire more early (but not too early -- so starting next week) delivery thoughts,

Here’s me now compared to the end of last time.

38 Weeks #2

I think I’m lower already. Clearly look bigger. That I can tell. lol. (Don’t even care. Just wanna be done.)

 

41 Weeks with #2

I can’t tell if it’s wishful thinking, 

But I wanna say I look lower already than even my last pregnancy photo from #2.

Stay in for one more week, then come out baby!