Less than 8 weeks to go. Baby is around about 5 pounds now and I’m almost 25 pounds over normal, which is not surprising considering how much I eat now. It’s pretty crazy – I can beat the husband hands down and other than speed (and possibly the issue of not liking hot dogs much), I’m pretty sure I could beat that kobeashi hot dog champ guy in an eating contest.
About a week ago I had a freak out. A real one: wide awake at 3 am, heart beating out of my chest and feeling like I was about to go into full blown panic attack (I’ve never actually had one so for all I know, I was in the midst of one when I was thinking i was on the edge) about giving birth and having a baby. It came shortly after our first parenting class when I realized that I know absolutely nothing about giving birth. We had the second class day before yesterday and I still know very little, but I’m feeling much better. Why? Simple, really. I’m very competitive.
Sitting in a room full of pregnant hormonal women with a nurse telling us how hard it will be on some, and how easy on others, I became determined to be better at it than the rest of the class! So now, I’m ready. I’ve eaten a sandwich, had some lemonade; I got a good night’s sleep last night and I know I can do it.
And now I wait.
Two months left to go!
Things I’m excited about: having my body to myself (bar the whole breastfeeding every hour or two – I’m happy in denial, leave me alone!), exercising (yes, you can hate me for saying that, I’ll hate myself about a month after the birth), sleeping on my stomach (see the comment following my first point), climbing on furniture without my husband freaking out, squatting and not getting stuck down there, sitting up without groaning, laying on my back without fear of harming the baby, sushi, sushi, sushi and a margarita (yes, yes, I know about the limitations of breastfeeding and drinking. Let me just state for the record, I will be good and you’re not my mother.) Oh, and meeting, holding and loving my little fella.
Things I’m not excited about: giving birth, the bodily byproducts of birth (holy crap man – you want to put an end to teen pregnancy, tell ’em about this part!), the flabby, doughy stomach post birth, the hair falling out, the extreme highs and lows of hormones getting realigned ( a couple friends introduced anti-depressants to their diet shortly after birth!), people’s “advice” (must get more used to saying “you’re not my mother”), did I mention the byproducts (whew, this is a nasty trick of mother nature).
And finally, the doctor’s visits. Yeah, I don’t know which category this fits in either. I guess I’m just sick of doctor’s visits and the guilt that any working woman feels taking the time out of the day. This month I have four, next month (my last month) I believe I am looking at around six. That’s a half hour for the visit, half hour for signing in and checking out and about an hour of waiting. Plus half an hour driving there and back. That’s just a check up, ultrasounds are a full four hour business at least. At least after the birth I will have the time off already to make these appointments. As it is now, I have to work that extra time at night to keep up with work and to not break into time that should be used for maternity leave.
Make the appointment at the same day and time every time. This way it’s easier to manage workload.
Get the very first appointment or the very last appointment of the day.
Have a smart phone (preferably an iphone, but that’s just me!)
Posted in Manic Mondays
Tagged baby, belly, birth, boppy, breast, breast feeding, breast milk, child, children, kid, kid's, maternal, maternity, mother, motherhood, Nursery, nursing, pregnancy, pregnant, prenatal
Pregnancy can be an unnerving time for a couple because it outlines, double underlnes, highlights and capitalizes the fundamental differences between the genders’ instinctual processes. That sounds so much more scientific than it really is. Basically, when a woman finds out she’s pregnant, at some point, she starts nesting. She wants to buy baby clothes, wash them, smell them and put them away in their perfect little dresser, in the perfect little nursery with mobiles and a theme and a glider/ rocker. Men on the other hand cannot understand why their wives are spending hundreds of dollars on clothes and days without end on painting and laundry for a child that isn’t due for another 6 months.
There will be an argument. Several weeks of nagging that starts, “Can you please take care of the baby proofing?” will turn into, “When are you going to look into getting the baby proofing stuff?” and finally, “You don’t give a S**T if this baby sticks his tongue in the G*D*M* socket and fries his brain do you? Why don’t you give a crap about us?” And somehow that inevitably leads to bringing up the time he sided with his mother in an argument or where he was 2 and a half years ago at midnight when you called and he didn’t answer.
Here’s the thing – women are generally (and I say generally because I’m leading to a stereotype) more empathetic and maybe even more imaginative than men. So, they can imagine what life will be like post baby, they feel like they already know the child and often imagine themselves holding their baby on their chest, rocking them in the chair, singing them to sleep. Women want to create the perfect environment for their perfect baby right now. Men realize there’s a child coming, are usually excited about it and they might even be extremely nervous about providing for this child, making sure he can go to Harvard Law when the time is right. They don’t, however, imagine what it feels like to have a baby on your chest, with both hearts beating side by side or think about how perfect you’ll all look walking down the street with your Peg Perego stroller and golden retriever.
So, it’s inevitable that when your non golden retriever eats the baby diaper you set up (six months before the baby is due) on the perfect little changing table (that took 2 months of “persuasion” to get put together) and your husband laughs, that an argument will ensue. But, take it all with a grain of salt. More than likely it was love for each other that got you to this point in the first place; once the baby comes, he or she will be perfect, but never in the way you expect and whether it’s the moment for your husband with baby sleeping on his chest, hearts beating next to each other when he realizes that his heart might explode with love or that time when you enter your perfect little nursery to find baby, cot and wall smeared in poop and you can’t help but laugh at the messy wreckage of your own life with baby, you’ll both get to the same point in your own time. And then you’ll live happily ever after… until high school.
Posted in Manic Mondays
Tagged baby, belly, children, father, kid, maternal, maternity, mother, motherhood, Nursery, parent, pregnancy, pregnant, prenatal, unborn