Last Day as a Mom of Two

Tomorrow is C-section day.  That means today is the last day I'll be the mom of just Owen and Griffin. The last day I'll be able to devote all my mommy time and energy to them.  It's bittersweet.

I had visions of this day.  Sleeping in.  Hot coffee and devo time before my sweet boys wake up.  Special breakfast of pancakes with sprinkles.  Cute little coordinated outfits.  A trip out to the Party Hut or the library.  Fun lunch.  Long, quiet nap time.  This followed by a long walk with a slight breeze and the warm sun shining.  Nice dinner out for my "last meal."  Bath time.  Then to wrap it up - two boys tucked in their beds falling fast asleep.

That's exactly what did NOT happen.

Actually, a few hours ago they were sitting on the kitchen floor banging their heads into the cabinets and laughing at each other.  And, honestly, laughing together was the best moment they'd had all day despite the fact that they may have been causing mild concussions or at the very least a crack in the cabinet door.

The rest of the day has been equally unromantic.

After finally falling back to sleep at 5:30AM, the boys were up at 6:00AM.  Thankfully, Jason got them to the table for breakfast; however, Griffin ended up with TootieFruities while everyone else had Cap'n Crunch.  And so began the endless screams and fits.

I locked myself in the bathroom to get ready knowing it would be my last good shower for a while, and I wasn't about to let it be interrupted by these two knuckleheads.  Trust me, it wasn't dangerous because the yelling, screaming, and crying reassured me that they were still breathing.  Bleeding?  Maybe, but at least still breathing.

By 9:00AM they had lost the privilege of all of their toys, and I somehow managed to carry out two toy boxes full of toys despite my basketball sized belly.

By 10:45AM I was ready for lunch.  I wasn't hungry, but I was definitely ready for the "quiet time" that follows lunch time.

Griffin quickly went to sleep, and Owen and I watched Free Willy 4: Escape from Pirate Cove for the twentieth time this month. (Yes, that is a real movie, and, no, I don't think it won any Oscars.  However, I do think it is better than AirBud: Spikes Back - another favorite.)  Fortunately, I caught a little cat nap knowing that Willy would be reunited with his family.  Unfortunately, Owen did not sleep a wink.  Then, as the movie credits rolled, I heard Griffin stirring in his room awake earlier than usual.

Now, I had 4 hours to kill before Jason would be home to rescue me.  I had no toys.  I had two tired, cranky boys.  And to top it off, it started to rain so no walk, no baseball, no running around outside.  I wished I'd go into labor because that actually sounded like more fun.

We survived the afternoon with somersaults, time-outs, tickle wars, forehead goose eggs from running into corners, door kicking, and ultimately G crashed out in the recliner.  Jason got Applebee's take out for us for dinner, and finally things calmed down.

While not the day I had planned, I really don't know what I expected.  And what will I expect after tomorrow when there will be three little boys running around.  I'm sure I will miss the moments watching bad movies with Owen and rocking G in the chair without needing to go check on a crying baby.  Still, I am SO EXCITED to meet Baby _____ tomorrow!

I Lost

My apologies in advance for the rush of posts about near-end pregnancy.  However, now that I'm not working and on "maternity leave" my mind doesn't have much else to dwell on, and it has a lot of time to spend dwelling.

 

Yesterday at this time, I was 99% sure that today I would be showing you pictures of my adorable newborn son, revealing his name (which I think we have decided), and going over the story of his arrival.  I woke up yesterday morning with "that feeling," we inadvertently ate Arby's for lunch (which is Jason's tradition on the nights of each of the other boys' birth), and I started having strong contractions every 3-6 minutes apart.  The butterflies started tickling my stomach.  I was nervous.  I was excited.  This was it!

 

That wasn't it.

 

The contractions spaced out and then lightened up to a hardly noticeable squeeze.  By this morning at 2AM when my sleeplessness hit, all sense of hope was gone.  Mindlessly scrolling through facebook comments about other people having their babies and cute newborn photos were all I could see.  It seemed that everyone else got to have their baby on May 2nd.  Then the tears came.

 

Disappointed.  Angry.  Frustrated.  Tired.  Inpatient.  Sad.  Jealous.  Embarrassed.  Uncomfortable.

 

I spent the next two hours silently (other than the clink of my spoon against the bowl during my 3:30AM cereal snack) arguing with God about who should decide when this baby will come - him or me.

 

My end of the debate started as I reminded Him that I had been praying.  I hadn't forgotten about Him.  I prayed for April 25th, then 29th, then 30th, then...  I had good reasons for those days, too.  First, I wanted to avoid my last family practice call, and FYI it did turn to be a bad one so I had all the more reason to be mad I had to endure that.  Next, I planned on days when I "knew" he would come because he was going to follow Owen's and Griffin's trend of coming at 37 weeks 6 days and 38 weeks 0 days.  It wouldn't be natural for the third kid to go any longer than that.  I also thought an April birthday would be better in our family because we already have one in May.  Then, I expectantly prayed that he would be here for Dr. Johnson left for vacation - today.

 

I then reminded God that the baby is full-term, his lungs are developed, and the longer he stays inside the bigger he gets and more likely to cause problems on the way out.  I am a doctor, after all.  I know.

 

Eventually, I just pleaded that the day didn't really matter so why couldn't He let me win this one and whatever reason he had for making me wait he could work out a little sooner.

 

With my Bible open, my reasoning soon sounded more and more ridiculous.  But I still was frustrated, ready to be done, tired, anxious, determined, and ready to hold my baby somewhere other than directly on my bladder.

 

God's answers started flooding in as I thumbed through some of my favorite books.  Verses I have read, circled, and underlined before seemed to be a clear voice speaking directly into this exact circumstance.

 

Genesis 2:7.  Deuteronomy 10:12.  Psalm 25:4-5 116:7 & 139:23.  Proverbs 16:2&9.  Jeremiah 29:11-13.  Micah 7:7.  Matthew 11:28.  Luke 6:46 & 12:25-26.  2 Corinthians 1:9.  Ephesians 5:16.  Philippians 2:13 & 4:6,8.  Colossians 1:17 & 3:2.  1 Thessalonians 5:18.  1 Timothy 1:16.  Hebrews 4:12,13,15 6:15 10:22 & 11:9.

 

It was abundantly clear that I had lost this debate long before it had started.  God is in control.  Not me.  He breathed life into this child.  Not me.  God has my interests at heart still in the grand scheme of His eternal will.  He is listening.  He will free me from anxiety, pressure, and worry and let me rest.  He knows my true motives.  He knows what it takes to be patient and tempted.  He will keep His promises and reward those who are faithful in facing the unknown.

 

While I don't lose many battles in this house, this one I wholly admit defeat.  And, I am so glad.  To turn over those weighty emotions of false control and let the future rest in some very capable hands means I should sleep well tonight.  Finally.

Ways to NOT induce labor

Considering I've never made it this far into a pregnancy before, I'm getting pretty antsy to get things rolling.  Today, I'm even more anxious as I officially begin my 6 week maternity leave without a baby. 

 

The fact that I'm not in labor is not for a lack of trying.  After years of medical education I've been taught that all of those old wives' tales to induce labor are bogus.  Still, desperate times call for desperate measures.  Unfortunately, and obviously, science has once again won - here I am, still pregnant.

 

First, I tried planning (and just hoping).  Maybe that isn't an old wives' tale, but I figured if I scheduled it and made arrangements for a particular day then this baby would get the hint and decide to stick with the plan.  This may have been the most naive plan of them all, but it was still very disappointing when that day came and went.

 

Next, I dug into my medical training.  When someone comes in to the hospital with early contractions one of the first things we do is give the fluids to hydrate them.  Surely, then, if I was just a touch dehydrated it would push me over the edge, too.  However, instead of bringing on contractions, I just ended up eating more and constipated.  It did save me a few extra trips to the bathroom though.

 

Then, Jason and I met up for a pizza lunch date.  I didn't pass up the chance for "Hot Stuff" pizza.  This jalapeno packed slice didn't disappoint.  It burned all the way down, but it sure didn't start labor.  Thankfully, I've gotten away without much heartburn this pregnancy, and my stomach survived this insult as well.

 

 Of course, I've been taking walks.  Yesterday I took two, and today we went to the mall to walk and avoid the snow and 30-degree May temperatures.  Even though this hasn't started labor, it has made me feel better to just get out of the house.

Although Jason has often recommended squats, jumping-jacks, jogs, and jumping on a trampoline I haven't had the energy to put my bladder through that sort of activity.  Who knows, maybe I should give it a try if I'm still here tomorrow.

Of course there are the R-rated old wives' tales too...

I guess unless I admit myself to the hospital, break my own water, and start Pitocin I'm just going to have to wait.  Wait and wait.  He can't stay in there forever, and May 10th really isn't that far away anyway.  Instead, I should try to "enjoy" these last few pregnant moments with two boys.

Queasy

A healthy young guy came in to clinic to have a few small skin lesions treated.  He works in agriculture and as expected was about a foot taller than me and weighed probably twice as much as a non-pregnant me, too.  He was pleasant, and we chatted about the weather as I prepared the few things I needed.

 

Lidocaine.  Betadine.  Gloves.  Blade.  Silver nitrate.  Antibiotic ointment.  Bandaid.

 

After I cleaned his skin I grabbed the syringe (and attached "tiny" needle) with the numbing lidocaine, and I proceeded to nonchalantly poke him and then watch the skin rise and bulge as the medication infiltrated the tissue below.  "Stick and a burn."  He got a little more quiet, and as I looked up into his already pale and freckled face I noticed he was growing more and more pale.

 

Ooops.  I didn't even think to ask this 6-foot-something 200-something pound guy if he wanted to lay down or got queezy with needles.  Thankfully, I didn't have to catch him this time.  We successfully got him up to the table and laying down for the rest of the procedure (which took about 30 seconds), and he did fine.

 

Later he told me he didn't like needles.  Shocker.  He thought he'd do okay this time because he hasn't had a problem since his seventh grade shots.  I smiled and was just grateful to not be picking him up off the clinic floor.

Seasonal Affective Disorder

This spring has been depressing to say the least.  I am lucky to not be one who struggles with true major depression, but the unending days of cold have been wearing on me.  As I scraped the ice off my car last week I really felt it.  It was frustrating that the flowers that had started to bloom were now drooping and brown.  I felt bad for the two ducks in our front yard that were taking cover against the house during the ice storm.  It has been aggravating to not be able to take the boys for a walk to the park in mid-April or be able to get ice-cream on our trip to the zoo.  And I'm tired of wearing a winter coat and putting hats and gloves on the boys in the morning.

Am I the only one?

Today, our small group Bible study decided we didn't care.  We (and our kids) needed to get out for an afternoon at the park.  The forcast high for our day was in the 60's, but when it was still 47 degrees and windy at 10:45 this morning I feared this Spring's curse wasn't going to be lifted.  As I was preparing my complaints to God about how much I hated the weather the sun began to shine.

And we had a great afternoon (minus Griffin falling off of the play ground)!  My melancholy mood melted in the sun, and the smell of rain, grilling burgers, and freshly mowed grass made it even better.  Ahh.  Finally.

I really needed this day.

Top 10 Reasons You Know You are at the End of Your Pregnancy

10.  When you go to take your Family Medicine Licensing Board Exam and the lady checking you in gets that sad, sympathetic/pathetic look on her face and says, "You know what, we're going to let you have the 'Special Accommodations Room.'  You'll be the only one in there, you'll have a fan if you get warm, you can get up and go the bathroom whenever you need, and we can switch chairs if you get uncomfortable.  You just let us know."  (And then an hour later a guy in wheelchair shows up and has to go into the standard testing room.  Sorry.)

9.  It's not uncommon to have vivid dreams when you're pregnant, but you know it's bad when you dream clearly about huge varicose veins and leg swelling the size of elephants'.

8.  Eye-belly contact.  This is probably more awkward than eye-chest or eye-hair contact.

7.  Sympathetic "You look miserable" comments.  Yes, I am; but I'd still prefer "You look cute" or "beautiful" or "great" even if it is a lie.

6.  You want to eat and don't want to eat at the same time.

5.  Online baby shopping at 4AM.  There comes a time when you realize everything you haven't done or purchased to get ready for this baby.  Thankfully, this intersects with the time when you can't sleep and are up for hours in the middle of the night.

4.  You can't sleep on your stomach, back, or either side.  And, it takes monumental effort, 10 minutes, and 6 pillows to even roll over to try different sleeping positions which inevitably won't be comfortable.

3.  You stop wearing make-up because nothing can hide how unattractive you feel so why even try.

2.  You literally can't wait the 3 weeks for the car seat you love that is on back order.  (Hence, #5 above.)

1.  Your scheduled C/S day that is circled, bold, capitalized and followed by several exclamation points on the GMail calendar is now just one click away.  25 days!

Catch Up

So I went an entire month without writing.  Big deal.  I guess I've been busy... or lazy.  And with as much "stuff" coming up in the next several weeks, I can't promise it is going to get any better.

 

In one month-ish we are going to have another baby.  It's a shock to me, too.  Even though we've had 8 months to prepare, we are definitely NOT prepared.  No name.  No bed.  No nursery.  No carseat.  Clothes are still in boxes downstairs.  At least we did buy diapers on our once-a-month April shopping trip in case he comes before May.  The Type A planner in me is kind of freaking out.

 

Then again, this is our third boy.  What could we possibly "need" that we don't already have.  The budget-conscious-scraping-to-get-out-of-debt person in me is at war with the planner-perfectionist in me.  For example, do I buy a brand new breast pump because I can, or do I find a gently used one on CraigsList because I should, or do I go uber-frugal and try to salvage the one I have (which I bought on CraigsList 4 years ago, by the way)?

 

While baby shopping sounds like fun, even taking 10 minutes to browse Amazon makes me feel guilty.  You see, I should be studying for another little test coming up.  My family practice board exam is NEXT WEEK.  Yeah, like 7 (wow, actually 6) days away.  It's only a test to say that I'm qualified to practice family medicine; no big deal.  After taking: MCAT, Step 1, Step 2 CK, Step 2 CS, and Step 3 to become an "M.D." you would think one more test to become "Board Certified" wouldn't be necessary.  Haha.  How embarrassing would it be to get this far, just months away from being "done," and then fail?!  I should probably study, huh.

 

If that wasn't enough, I have a senior research project and presentation due 3 days after my board exam.  It's the thing I'm the least worried about, and that usually means it's the thing that is going to go the worst.

 

Oh, yeah.  And... I, Jason, and Owen have all been sick this past week.  Why not pile on vomiting, diarrhea, fevers, sinus pressure, and sore throat when I already don't sleep and ache all over?  Needless to say, it has been, and is going to be, a long few weeks.  I can't wait for maternity "vacation."