Ainsley 2.0

So, Cohen...he doesn't sleep.  At least not well.  He is Ainsley all over again.  Actually, if I must be completely honest...he is WAY worse than Ainsley.  Ainsley, at least, would sleep in my bed.  Cohen will sleep if he is nursing and only if he is nursing.

We've had a bad few weeks.  Actually, it's been pretty bad since the day I went back to work.  Before that day, he was sleeping through the night.  Then I went back to work and he stopped.  He stopped so HARD.

But guess what?  I'm not going to complain.  I could probably publish a book with all the blog posts I wrote about Ainsley not sleeping.

I'm not going to complain because he's my baby and even though last night while I was in his room for 2 hours, only to have him fall asleep for 45 minutes and then be in bed with me again, I googled sleep techniques on my phone and was so tempted by CIO.  So. Very. Tempted.

I can't.  I can't do it.  You can tell me it won't affect them, you can tell me he'll be fine, you can tell me he won't remember - and I believe you.  But all I can think is that in that exact moment when he's screaming and crying and thrashing he's thinking "Where did my mom go?" and "Is she ever coming back?"  I know, over dramatic, but I can't help it.

Once again, I'm super conflicted about this issue.  See apparently when it comes down to the nitty gritty of parenting - potty training, sleep training - I suck.  I suck so bad.  So what's the right thing?  I have no idea.  But what I do know is that I read a blog this morning.  This line...

"He knew that if he kept himself very, very close to my body all night and every night until forever, he would stay safe, and nourished, he would sleep deeply and he would grow."

And it made me smile. I didn't even finish reading.  That was the message I needed to take away.

I know I will still have nights that I want to scream and I will want to walk out the door and let him scream.  I will still wonder what in the hell I'm doing to make my children not sleep.  I will be in awe of anyone who can get a baby to sleep through the night.  But I'm going to remember this.  Because this perfectly sums up how he must feel.  To be someone's mom is to be someone's everything, if only for a short, tiny, sparse amount of time.  Right now, I am his everything, and I can live with that.

He knew that if he kept himself very, very close to my body all night and every night until forever, he would stay safe, and nourished, he would sleep deeply and he would grow. - See more at: http://www.scarymommy.com/sleeping-on-his-own/#sthash.xHaLauP6.dpuf

He knew that if he kept himself very, very close to my body all night and every night until forever, he would stay safe, and nourished, he would sleep deeply and he would grow. - See more at: http://www.scarymommy.com/sleeping-on-his-own/#sthash.xHaLauP6.dpuf

Dear Baby No Name

Okay actually, you have a name...I think. But it's a secret until you show your face. 

It's 11:25 and in about 8 hours you will make your grand entrance into the world.  You and I will no longer share this space. Starting tomorrow morning you'll be your own little creature. 

I won't feel every roll or flutter or hiccup. I won't think about every little thing I put in my mouth. I won't imagine the color of your eyes or the shape of your feet. You'll be here. 

It's a little bittersweet, to know that tomorrow you'll begin your journey and that will only lead you away from me. I'm always a bit sad when a phase ends, even if it does involve swollen ankles, horrible sleep, and pelvic pressure. 

But...the upside is that I get to meet you and touch your soft skin and kiss your sweet face. I can't wait for that. I wish I could skip over the needles and the cutting and the worry and go right to you snuggled against my chest. That is what makes the rest of it worth it. 

So now I'm going to try and sleep. And when I wake we'll start our next phase, together. 

Love, 

Mommy

I've Hit The Wall

This has been a really good pregnancy.  I mean, I have the diabetes, and that sucks because I also have a MAD, CRAZY sweet tooth...anyone else get that with boys?  But really, I've felt great through this pregnancy.  I've eaten really healthy, I didn't swell much, I ran until I was 6 months, I walk every day, I do yoga when I can.  I've felt really, really good.

It started like mine always do, I was sick.  But it wasn't as bad as I had it with Freddie.  I've missed beer, and sushi, and over-easy eggs.    But all-in-all, I really can't complain.

And then BAM!

People, I have hit the wall.  I am DONE. 

Today I am 37 weeks, 4 days.  So I know, I know...I'm close...so I should not complain...but it's my blog, I'll complain if I want to.

I don't sleep anymore.  I see almost every hour on the clock. 

I'm swelling now.  My feet hit the floor in the morning and I can feel the fluid just rushing to them.  And they HURT.

The heat is killing me, and I am a summer person.  I hate the winter and snow and cold weather.  But seriously if it snowed right now, I'd sit in it on my deck. 

I can't get comfortable...not sitting, not standing, not lying, not walking.  I feel like my pelvis is going to explode.  Some part of this child's body is grinding my right hip bone.

Working is tough.  Sitting at my desk makes me swell more, and I'm so tired I can barely focus my attention on anything.

I have to pee every single time - and I'm not exaggerating - I stand up.

And all I want to do is lie on the couch and eat a VAT of ice cream.  With hot fudge...Clif - DO NOT FORGET the hot fudge when I'm in the hospital!!!

So that's where I am.  I have not felt like blogging.  I have not felt like doing anything with anyone in order to blog about it.  All I think about is being done, and then I think...

...that's sad, because what if this is it?  What if this is the last time I feel little kicks and rolls and hiccups?  What if this is the last time I wear my favorite maternity outfit?  What if it's the last time my kids hug my belly and tell me they love their baby brother?  The last time I pick someone's name (which we have not done, by the way!!!)? 

And then I feel like I can manage a bit longer.  So I'll be here...managing.  

Re-evaluating

I've been feeling a lot of stress lately.  Stress over schedules and finances and baby and health. 

I mean, I've done close to nothing to prepare for this baby.  I will say, with a third kid there's not a ton to be done.  I've got mostly everything covered.  There are no showers to register or prepare for.  There's no crib to buy and put together.  There's no nursery to pour over and set up.  But still, to think he'll be here in 5-ish weeks?  Scary thought. 

A part of me is so excited and another part just wants him to stay put a little longer.  I know the sooner he gets here, the sooner I'll be headed back to work and then figuring out the schedule of three kids in three locations with two working parents?  Holy hell, it makes my head spin.  I'm not even going to touch on the expense of it.  That is a number I don't like to think about.

Then there's the diabetes that I'm trying desperately to control.  It's going okay.  But I do have off moments.  Like when the office throws a "shower" for me and there's cake.  Even the smallest sliver of a piece sends my numbers over the top.

Oh and then there's also the ultrasound I just had where the doctor tells me the baby is currently 7 lbs.  Do you know that a baby gains about 1/2 a pound a week at this point?  That puts him around 9.5 lbs at birth.  Now, how much stock to I put in this estimate?  Not a ton.  The same was said about Ainsley and she was born at about 7.5 lbs.  But they were pretty close with Freddie's estimate.  And even though I'm smaller than I was with Freddie, I've gained half the weight I did with Freddie...I definitely feel like little man is bigger than Ainsley.  He's filling my abdomen.

Finally, there's  the delivery.  I've wanted to try for a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean).  Starting out I figured I'd do it if there were no complications.  Well, there are complications (diabetes, possible large baby, and not the most supportive area for it). 

So in the last week, I've been re-evaluating my life.  The stress is weighing me down and keeping me up at night.  I've decided I have to let some of it go.  I'm shelving the finance and schedule aspect of my stress.  There's not a thing I can do about it right now.  In a few months, Clif and I will need to make decisions.  Maybe I don't go back to work, maybe I find a part time job, maybe we move away from the area.  I don't know yet, but all those things are things that can't be acted upon today, or this week, or this month.  Right now, I've got to focus on keeping myself healthy and bringing this baby into the world.

I've got to let go of the ultrasound findings.  I can't put the fetus on a diet.  If he's big, he's big.  I've been extremely healthy and active this pregnancy.  I've done everything I could to bake him properly.  If that means he's a 10 pounder, then so be it.

That leaves delivery, which of late has been causing me the most stress.  My doctor is on the fence about a VBAC.  This week I'll need to talk to her again about it...which is causing me stress.  I really hate any kind of conversation with any doctor.  I hate going to the doctor.  My blood pressure will be high, she'll probably test me for pre-eclampsia...again.  Even though, I know what actual high blood pressure feels like.  I know what it actually feels like to be on the verge of slipping into pre-eclampsia.  This ain't it.  This is just your run of the mill anxiety.

Over the last few days I've been thinking about what I really want out of this delivery.  I've realized something.  I'm not really set on a VBAC.  I'm not one of these people who thinks I absolutely need to push a baby out of my body in order to be a woman.  A VBAC scares me as much as a 3rd C-section.  I've tried to read up on natural childbirth and VBAC...and I think I've gained a lot of knowledge...but it's just not something I'm super interested in.  I have a lot of friends who are.  Who are very into it and love it and have passion about it and I think they're awesome for it.  But it's not me.

I've realized that my biggest concern is being told I have to have him early.  I don't want to have him early.  I want him to come when he's ready.  Because of the signs of pre-eclampsia I showed with Freddie, he was delivered by c-section at 38 weeks.  I showed no signs of labor.  If Freddie gets a cold, he wheezes.  He's been diagnosed with Restrictive Airway Disease.  Which basically means asthma but they won't diagnose a kid with asthma until after they're 5 because so many grow out of it.  Although he's much better than he once was, we've had some scary moments with it.  The lungs are the last thing to develop in the womb, so I've always wondered...maybe, if he had stayed a bit longer...maybe he wouldn't have this issue. 

I know it's a what if, but as a mom, you can't help but go there.

So I've revised what my conversation will be like with the doctor.  I'm not set on a VBAC, but I don't want to schedule anything, and unless there is some life threatening reason, I'm not bringing him early.  Women have been doing this for a gazillion years.  Our bodies know what to do.  The babies know what to do.  He'll let us know when he's ready.

Now, I can just stress over my water breaking at work...