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Archive for October, 2012

Ezra William, October 26th, 2012 at 10:29pm. 7lb 11.6oz, 20 inches. To say we are completely gobsmacked in love with this human doesn’t begin to describe it…welcome to our family, Mini Budders.

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Yes. I’m still pregnant.

He is officially one day over-due.

Have I ever mentioned how much I like things well-done?

Or how patient I am?

Or how much I wanted to stab a small, rectangular piece of paper?

And before I am asked, these are the things we’ve tried (So Much TMI Alert):

Membranes stripped? HA.

Spicy food? Double HA.

Raspberry leaf tea? RIGHT.

Castor oil? DO NOT RECOMMEND.

Sex with accompanied attention paid to nippular area? That was… magical…

Rocking in rocking chair and bouncing on yoga ball? I’m seriously sea-sick.

Calming meditation: FUCK YOU, CALMING MEDITATION.

Long walks? I’ve probably logged over 20 miles in over the last two weeks and I’m not even exaggerating. For once.

At least by the time he comes we’ll probably have skipped that pesky newborn period and moved right on to learning his ABC’s or possibly Calculus at the rate I seem to be progressing.

Now if you’ll excuse me, instead of quietly accepting the things I cannot change I’m going to go ahead and practice my hip-rolls with Keaton to Psy’s Gangnam Style.

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I’m still pregnant. Thanks EVERYONE I’VE EVER MET for asking me this as if my roundness and general look of “seriously, fuck off” didn’t already tell you.

In truth, I’m actually not too worked up about still carrying around this extra human, as I’m a little terrified of having to be so mobile with a newborn and then there’s that whole Labor and Delivery Thing, which if I remember correctly, is a little messy and sort of painful. I’ve actually never been thirty-nine weeks pregnant before as Rowan and Keaton both made their appearances in the 38th week, so from here on out this is all new territory.

What is sort of obnoxious is that every night I feel like I have to have everything prepped in case I go into labor that night. With both Rowan and Keaton I awoke in the very small hours of the morning with contractions and while it was no big deal with Rowan because my labor with her was so gradual, plus we didn’t have another child to think about, the second time things became very intense very fast and it was sort of a process to get a sound asleep two-year-old roused, packed up and delivered to Grammy’s at 3am, all while the baby was trying to grab a hold of and squeeze every internal organ in my mid-section.

Also, this time the kids have just so much… stuff. And everyday their schedules are a little bit different, which, yeah, I know it’s not the end of the world if things get a little mixed up but it’s going to be a lot of work running around so much with the baby and I’d feel like I could give myself permission to slack off if things go smoothly while we’re in the hospital. If not, then I know I’ll feel like I need to make up for the time by not missing things and okay, maybe that sounds ridiculous to you but it’s how my Be A Good Girl And Do All Of The Things Right brain works, so… yeah.

I’m trying to be patient but it’s been sort of a lonely time of waiting. Up until the last few days Bill has had a ridiculously full workload so we’ve spent about 5 minutes together in the last month. Fall has everybody engrossed and busy with their own busy schedules so I don’t see or talk to hardly anyone outside of those I come in contact with on our daily adventures of school/dance/home. I will say, I am getting an overabundance of support from Fawkes, Monkey and Luna, who follow me around from room to room to room, barely leaving my side all day. From the minute I open the bedroom door in the morning to the time Bill unceremoniously chucks the last stow-away cat out the bedroom door at night, these animals are EVERYWHERE ALL THE TIME. I sit down to eat? Immediately I have a cat in my lap, the other on the table and a dog at my feet. I go to the bathroom… uh, really you guys? If I don’t let them in they paw at the door for the duration. All three sit outside the shower while I’m in there and my animals DO NOT even like each other. The worst is when I’m trying to make beds as Luna follows me from one side to the other and back again and seriously, I can make the bed with out you micromanaging me, Dog.

Now, many of you probably think this is because animals have a special sense for their beloved owner and instinctively “know” I am pregnant and feel a sense of love, duty and protection over me. I, however, know my animals better than that and they are no dummies, and super selfish… they’ve seen all this before. They know that any day now they are going to be shunted down the priority list, getting little to no attention while we focus our efforts on the tiny, adorable over-lord that will be usurping all the love in the household for the foreseeable future so I understand this is a purely selfish act of pet me! love me! meMeME! before the ax comes down.

Other than that, the other big question I get is “How are you feeling?” and up until the last few days or so I was feeling really pretty good. When you spend months on end puking your guts out, the uncomfortableness of the last few weeks pales in comparison. After making it out of the first 20 weeks, which were just as bad or worse than the first two pregnancies, I’ve felt the best this time around. The anemia and other secondary symptoms, while still present, were better controlled and I’ve just been more patient overall when it comes to the actual due date. Or was until I entered this, the thirty-ninth week, and now I’m all very, Baby, you have all of your fingers and kidneys and toenails and intestines and eyelashes so YOU’RE WELCOME for that and maybe it’s time to come out and snuggle. Also, you are getting awfully sharp and pointy with your jabs in there and I swear if you shift to one side of my uterus or the other I’m going to go flying across the room with the force of what must be an impressive number of pounds you’ve put on the last week and a half. P.S. OMG Please don’t have a giant head.

So. Will I have to write a 40 week update? It’s looking pretty plausible at this point as I’m getting no indication that labor is imminent. This is definitely not a race, we really just want a healthy, happy boy no matter when he chooses to make his appearance. All I’m saying is that he could kick things up a notch. Is that too much to ask, Son? After all, I grew your eyeballs and knee caps so I’m thinking you maybe owe me one.

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Look what I got for you, Internet! A non-ghetto, non-cell phone pregnancy picture! I KNOW! Just what you’ve aaaaaaalways wanted.

You’re super welcome.

Out of the bathroom and everything! I know. You didn’t think I had it in me.

The kids have already been great big siblings, always asking to give the baby hugs and kisses in the morning and before bed.

Of course before Keaton gives him a kiss he always asks where the baby’s bottom is positioned and when I show him he promptly kisses it and then breaks out in a fit of giggles, “Haha I kissed your butt, Baby!” I’m not gonna lie… this sort of makes me wonder what the hell I’m going to do with another potty-humored boy in the house. {Probably work on perfecting my serious face after I’ve turned around and laughed myself, because, well, he did just kiss his butt and sometimes that shit’s just funny.}

Hopefully sometime in the next two and a half weeks we’ll be able to meet this little guy. Both Rowan and Keaton came during the 38th week {38 weeks 6 days, and 38 weeks 2 days respectively} but that’s obviously no guarantee. As my mother likes to remind me, she had five kids and all of them came early except one. Can you guess which one was not just a few days, but almost two full weeks late? Yeah. So maybe I sort of deserve a late one but with the number of birthdays that reside at the end of this month and early November between our two families, I really hope he takes pity on me and comes earlyish to mid-October.

At my 37 week check last week SDjrjr’s heart-rate was pretty low and I had previously mentioned that his movements had slowed considerably so the doctor I saw {who is not my midwife because my midwife is out of town for the next week and a half HAHA ISN’T THAT FUNNY? {No. No it is not}.} hooked me up to the monitor to make sure he was doing OK in there. He remained quiet for the first 20 minutes or so but then kicked it up a few notches so that the doctor was satisfied enough to proclaim him too sleepy/lazy/out of room to get really worked up for a higher heart rate and I was thankfully cleared to go home.

They also monitored me for contractions which I was indeed having but since I was not feeling them at all, they didn’t even check me for dilation/effacement. That night I woke up at 1:37am mid-contraction, and not the wussy Braxton-Hicks ones I’ve been having every time I over-do it, a full-blown UM, OUCH contraction. I had one every 10-12 minutes for the next hour and a half, during which I took the time to have a heart to heart with my unborn son about how I did not order a SEPTEMBER baby, I ordered an OCTOBER baby so he could just SIMMER THE FUCK DOWN in there. And he did. Because he is already a better listener than his siblings and he’s not even born yet. I fell back to sleep around 3:30am and have not had a “real” contraction since, so all’s well.

Other than that, I’ve packed the baby’s bag for the hospital and washed/prepped all the hippie diapers and clothes that he’ll need for the first few weeks. The crib and bassinet are assembled and the car seat is ready to be installed. I also spent 4.5 years composing a schedule and instruction manual for the care of my two giant children. With the nutty dance schedule we have this was no small feat but 17 pages later, I hope someone besides me can figure it out.

In other news…

“I have a hole in my face!”

This is the third year Rowan has had to watch the tooth chart in her classrooms fill up, the majority of the kids having lost multiple teeth. The insult was even greater felt this year as she knows she is one of the oldest in her class and had yet to lose even one. At her last dental check the dentist assured us that her bottom two front teeth were on their way to becoming loose and he predicted they would be out by late fall. I have no idea how he could tell because this was back in July and they weren’t the slightest bit wobbly but lo! and behold! and etc.!

A little boy at school had lost his bottom two at school earlier in the week and had swallowed one of them which caused Rowan to stress out about swallowing her own very loose tooth. She spent all of last Thursday night wiggling and wiggling the thing, in hopes it would come out easily but no such luck. It was way past bedtime and even though we tried to assure her she wouldn’t swallow it, she proceeded to have a mental breakdown over a teeny-tiny piece of enamel. Which… ugh. There was nothing we could say or do. After multiple refusals to have Bill attempt to gently tug at it to get it out, we gave up, put Keaton down for the night and left her alone in the bathroom with her tears and her wiggly tooth. Three minutes later she waltzed out with the reddest, puffiest eyes you have ever seen and a big smile with a small hole in it. “I got it out! I didn’t swallow it!” She was so proud, all the drama of the previous hour or so completely forgotten, for she held the promise of a fairy visit in her palm.

She requested we wait to put the tooth under her pillow until the following night as she wanted to hold onto her hard-won prize for a day or so. So the next night we placed the tooth in the small tooth-box I purchased earlier that day and set it on her dresser. {She asked to put the tooth on her dresser instead of under her pillow, “What if it falls down behind the bunk-beds?!” which, let me tell you, suited the tooth fairy juuuust fine.} That night the fairy did not disappoint and in the morning she was rewarded with a small Polly Pocket, a book and three dollars, with the stipulation that the first tooth is special and after this she would just be given a handful of coins. {Which will probably, sadly, be filched from her own piggy bank because I am never prepared for this sort of thing. Oh I’m kidding! I’ll steal them from Keaton’s piggy bank, he’ll never notice.}

Other than that bit of big news? We’re just trying to savor our last couple of weeks as a family of four…

Which is doing a nice job of distracting us from the anticipation of becoming a family of five..

Because we’re so excited to meet this little guy. {Belly close-up courtesy of Keaton, photographer esq.}

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