At least I won't have another late baby...

Of course, it appears that I"m going to have a troublemaker. I had to have an ultrasound yesterday because it didn't appear that the baby was growing for the past four weeks. Turns it's growing fine, but I have low amniotic fluid. So I spent yesterday in the hospital undergoing stress tests, including one where they actually start labor to see how baby tolerates it. It did well, so they stopped the meds and sent me home. I still don't get it. Why not just let me finish, since I had the IV and all?

I'm going back tomorrow for another stress test and ultrasound for the fluid levels. If all goes well, I'm being induced on Monday since baby didn't seem to mind contractions the second time around. I'm more nervous than I've ever been. Yes, I've had three relatively easy births, but I'm just one of those people who is always aware that things can go wrong. I try to keep that stuff out of my mind most of the time, but sometimes it creeps in.

Remind me again...

That I don't mind being pregnant. And that having the baby on the inside for now is just one less kid for me to keep track of. And I really don't have time to go to the hospital until after Mr. T gets out of school.

Yeah, still pregnant. Actually only just 38 weeks, so it would be almost impossible for me to have had this kid yet. None of my babies have been born before 40 weeks. But I'm starting to get achy and hot and a little swollen (which has never happened in the 160 weeks I've been pregnant in my life).

Add to that mental nesting (as in, I want to do all this stuff, but I ache too bad to actually do it), moving sometime in August (and the related issue of 'will our house ever sell') and all the stuff I really need to get done before the baby arrives (like order a carseat) and I'm a bit stressed.

Today I had a fantasy...

The crazy fantasy of everyone woman is over 36 weeks pregnant. That I will walk into my completely normal check-up and learn that, unbeknownst to me (despite having birthed three children previously), I'm in labor and must immediately go deliver my baby.

Yeah, it didn't happen. In fact, nothing's happening. My body likes being pregnant. Likes it so much, in fact, that it tries to keep my babies in permanently. Looks like I'm looking at another 41 weeker (and only that by induction). I'm kind of okay with that. I've had a sudden burst of what can only be called nesting in someone as pregnant as I am. I'm throwing out all sorts of stuff, cleaning the basement, finding baby clothes and other gear that's been stored away for three or more years.

If we knew what we were having, there'd be even more crap on its way out. If it's a boy, I've got a ton of baby girl clothes that someone will love. And if it's a girl, I'll get to use all of them (yay!) and my nephews will be well-dressed. I seem to have no newborn baby boy clothes, which I finally figured out is because Mr. T didn't care to reveal his gender either (that's what this current in utero child did).

I'm sort of hoping (yes, I admit I have a slight preference, but as long as it's healthy, will be thrilled either way) that it's a girl. I love our girl's name SOOOOOO much that I will be a little sad not to use it. I like our boy's name too, of course, or else I'd still be looking for The Name. Maybe because I spent so long searching for a girl's name that it just seems like a bigger reward.

Reunion.com claims people are looking for me...

Do you think I should let them know that very few people would be looking for me under my married name and it's probably some other chick whose maiden name happens to be the same as my married name? Yeah, probably not. But I still have to mutter that every time I get a junk email from them that says that.

So no Idol this week - I wasn't in the mood at all this week. Actually I've been in a bit of a bad mood in general lately. Probably due at least in part to lack of sleep. My allergies have been bugging the crap out of me - I feel like plucking my eyes out they itch so bad. So I asked my OB what I could take. She okayed Claritin, which I thought I'd never taken before. But when Tom brought it home for me, I realized I had and it had made me feel like I had lead weights pushing me down. So I decided to take it at night and hopefully sleep through the lead weight thing. Except I don't know if it was the dosage I took or the pregnancy or what, but I didn't sleep at all that night. So I'm paying for it now. I'm still feeling the effects 36 hours later. I still can't sleep. And now I'm beyond exhausted.

In some football fun, the only fun a college football fan like me gets until September, the NFL draft is this weekend. The Ravens (my local team so I hear a lot about them from the news and my family) should be interesting to see - will they go with best available player, as has been their stated policy in the past, or fill their need for a quarterback? Probably they can do both if the picks fall right.

Trying to get over my mood...

I've been in a sucky mood all week. It started on Sunday when I took my wedding rings off because my fingers were swollen. I have three kids - two girls with a magnet for jewelry. Yep, my ring was missing all week - not my engagement ring (which is the more expensive, so I guess that's something at least) which doesn't fit at the moment, but my wedding band. It's unique - it has seven rubies and diamonds in the band part. So does Tom's. Our birthdays are four days apart in July, so we both loved the idea.

We eliminated suspects until we were down to just one. Our 5-year-old Miss G. Who doesn't remember where she last had it. She admits to picking it up (not the diamond, the colorful one) and taking it...somewhere. Her room, Miss S's room, the bathroom, um, the hallway, no, back to your room (as in mine and Tom's). I found it in the dirty laundry on Thursday.

And freaking American Idol eliminated the only eye candy....I mean, rocker dude they had. I still like David Cook the best, despite his off week, but I really wanted, well, everyone else to leave before Michael Johns.

Actually that doesn't really play into my sucky mood. That's probably more related to my insomnia (it's baa-aack). I almost took out a second-grader yesterday because he was making fun of Mr T. That's when I realized I had a problem and actually allowed myself to take a nap today. I know I'm pregnant and anemic and not sleeping at night, but I still feel like a loser if I take a mid-day nap. Today I did, though. We'll see how I sleep tonight.

That second-grader might have deserved to be taken out, though. Mr. T was trying to talk to him about some Lego thing they've talked about before and when he gets excited, he can't seem to get his words out (anyone watch Wonderfalls?). So the kid was repeating everything Mr. T said with an exaggerated stutter. I stopped in my tracks and stared the kid down, but I don't think he realized how much he'd pissed me off. I was >< this close to calling out an 8 year old.

I think I need help. And unfortunately, those sleep remedies (Benadryl, Tylenol PM, Simply Sleep, Nyquil, etc.) don't work for me - they actually give me the jitters, which is sort of abnormal. Morphine didn't do anything for me either (sucks when one's leg is broken to bits). And any other time, I'd just have a couple of glasses of Riesling (if you live in Maryland, allow me to recommend the Boordy vineyards one - it's simply fabulous. Unfortunately, among my many complaints about my state is that their alcohol laws are weird - local wineries can only ship to a few states or sell in-state, so I always try to buy Maryland wine), but since I'm pregnant, that's not really an option.

I don't know if all this is pregnancy-related or just stress from our major decision about moving (which isn't really stressing me out, except that it can't happen yet and Tom hasn't heard anything about the job at all, so lots of unanswered questions). I'm thinking both and hoping this isn't a sign of a non-sleeper. My other three kids were/are very good sleepers, so I don't know how I'd deal with that. I mean, I will, because that's what mothers do. We deal. But if this baby likes to go to bed at 10 and get up at 8, that would be lovely.

Not even a raised eyebrow?

So I got myself all worked up to go pick Mr. T up from school yesterday. It was the first warm/humid day of the year and I wore a tight t-shirt that really revealed my belly. And I'm sort of proud of it, now that I have one. It's taken long enough - I thought for sure with my fourth I'd look six months pregnant on day one, but now I'm six months pregnant and only barely look pregnant at all.

I thought I was outing myself. And it seemed like no one even noticed. A couple of moms know, so I wasn't expecting anything from them. But some who I talk to a lot didn't say anything. Maybe I still look fat and they didn't want to offend. So much for my big news.

I haven't told a lot of people that I'm pregnant. I mean obviously our families know and a couple of friends outside the family. But to casual acquaintances (like most of the other moms I stand around with up at school), I haven't said anything. And since it's been winter my big coat has covered what little belly I do have.

So maybe the big outing will be another day. Or maybe it's not as big a deal as I think.

Might be I'm a little nervous...

about this whole four kids thing. I had my second nightmare/bad dream in a row last night. The first one was a real nightmare. I woke up at 4 (after finally breaking my pattern of waking up from 1 to 5 every morning) and never went back to sleep it freaked me out so bad. Basically I was dying on the operating table after an emergency c-section (I've never had one) and DH was going to be alone with four kids. (That baby was a boy)

Last night, I dreamt that all went well and we came home, but because my other kids were so busy, I just forgot about the new baby and left it in bed for two straight days. (That baby was a girl).

So I conclude two things from my dreams. I'm freaked about having another baby. AND I'm having twins. Except one of them hides really well from ultrasound techs. Yeah, probably not twins. But definitely freaked out.

Daylight Saving Time has messed us up...

Mainly me, I'm sad to say. The kids are doing okay, especially Mr. T who doesn't seem to sleep anymore (and trust me, that it is NOT a good thing). I've had to wake the girls up every morning this week. But I'm normally up and alert (though I stay in bed) around 7. This week I haven't even opened my eyes before 7:45. Probably the pregnancy insomnia isn't helping. I fall asleep easily at night, but wake up around 1 a.m. (usually to pee) and can't get back to sleep until 6 a.m. or so. And then I get a nice, sound hour of sleep. And as bad as that sounds, the nights when I don't wake up are actually worse. For some reason I wake up feeling even more tired than the nights when I toss and turn.

I'm really hoping this isn't a sign of what this baby will be like on the outside. My other three were mainly good sleepers, so I really don't think I can handle one of those non-sleeping babies.

Sometimes you just have to fake it...

The first trimester of this pregnancy really sapped me of my will to...do just about anything. I haven't really regained it yet. I've picked knitting up again and even got an entire baby sweater knit, but the hobby that I'm really missing but still lacking the motivation for is photography. I'm trying to just get up and do it, since I'm mid-second trimester and still not showing, I can contort on the floor the way I need to and I supposedly have energy (the insomnia's kind of countering that, though).

I was looking at buying a new camera last night, but I just don't feel like I can do that if I'm not using the one I currently have. That's how I mentally "earn" new hobby supplies in general. If I scrapbook, I can buy new scrapbooking items. If I'm actively knitting, I can buy new yarn. But I'm not habitually taking pictures lately - I only have a handful from Christmas. How sad is that? Last Christmas I think I had over 100. This Christmas I had maybe 10 and I didn't even upload them to my computer until the middle of January.

I'm feeling guilty that I'm not more excited about this baby. I guess it's partly because I'm not showing and well, it IS the fourth time I've done this. I'm still just as nervous and panicky about stupid things as I've ever been, but I haven't gotten all the little clothes out or obsessed over the baby name book (I think we have names picked out anyway, but I still looked even after we'd decided on the other kids' names). Of course, maybe if Baby hadn't been so stubborn when we were at the ultrasound and showed off its goods, I'd be getting out the pink or blue from when the others were babies.

Happy Ash Wednesday...

So Lent has officially begun and I'm starting on my destash/no new stuff. So far, so good. Although I did go to Wal-Mart for the first time in months and they have beads! But no, I was good. I even resisted the last minute trip yesterday to get some blue cotton for a baby sweater - you know, in case I'm having a boy. Three ultrasounds say girl, but all were more of the "we don't see anything sticking out so we'll guess girl" variety rather than "hey, that there is a girl!" like we had with Miss G and Miss S. I did get some pretty variegated pink yarn for a little sweater.

Why is that I was all set with a name for our baby, boy or girl, before the ultrasound, but now that I've heard it's a girl, I'm completely changing my mind. I don't even know where to begin. I'm sure we'll come up with something - we have four whole months, but I'm feeling clueless.

Oh, and do you know what today is?

Today is the freaking four year anniversary of the day I broke the freaking hell out of my ankle.

The short version: I was carrying my son and slipped down a hill while 34 weeks pregnant. My foot went toe-first into a hole while the rest of me fell backward. Broke both leg bones, something in my ankle and dislocated my ankle. I am now the proud owner of a plate and six pins in that ankle. And a kickin' scar.

Long version: Four years ago today it was a lovely February day. Nice and warm - well, warm for February and all. So I took my pregnant self and my 20 month old son for a walk. Dreaming of a glass of water as I chased my son around the grass, I quickly scooped him up and walked down the hill he was near to go home. Unfortunately, my foot met a hole and entered it toe first. While the foot was in the hole, I fell backwards, with all that extra baby weight, both internal and external, serving to just crack about every bone in my ankle and lower leg. I sat there screaming for help, which no one heard (I mean, it was February and no matter how nice it was, it wasn't nice enough to have windows open). Finally a neighbor came out and called my mom, who took me to the ER, where we scared everyone we encountered. Cardinal rule of ERs. Pregnant women may only enter for childbirth-related needs.

Between my refusal to take any painkillers and their reluctance to do anything to a pregnant woman, we weren't really getting anywhere. Not to mention the orthopedic surgeon wasn't on until 4 PM. I fell at 10 AM. They took x-rays. Yep. Broken. I knew that. I'd never broken a bone before, but it doesn't take a genius to know that when your ankle is a 45 degree to your leg, something ain't right. They complimented my good sense to not walk on it. Um, my ankle was not attached to my body in such a way that I could possible have walked on it. Who would try to walk on that?

They gave me morphine while they prepared to relocate my ankle. The orthopedic surgeon suggested that my husband leave because I would scream and he wouldn't like it. He wanted to stay and I wanted him to stay. We learned three things then. I have a very high pain tolerance. I'm extremely contrary - tell me I'm going to scream and for sure I won't. I might bite off my tongue, but I will not scream. And last, morphine has no effect on my pain. Yay. Good things to know. So more x-rays (gosh, hope those don't hurt the baby - don't worry they doubled the heavy apron thing you wear and she was pretty well developed anyway). They relocated wrong. So we had to do that again. Fortunately they got it right the second time. Then they sent me home with a prescription for Percoset, which my husband went off to fill while my mom drove me home. My sister had shown up and taken my son earlier. It was close to 7 now.

The next day we had to set up the surgery to fix it. When the chief of emergency medicine (pregnant women who aren't there for baby-related things meet a lot of chiefs) came in to tell me that it wasn't just a break, it was a BREAK, I didn't believe him. Surgery? But, dude, I just broke my ankle. Slap a cast on me - a nice pretty pink one, okay? - and I'll be on my way. My husband called my ob for recommendations of orthos who did surgery at the hospital I was going to deliver at, just in case, you know. We found one and took an excruciating trip to his office. Yep, surgery. Tomorrow? Sure.

So I had surgery. Met the lovely chief of anesthesia. But the nice lady who gave me the spinal was the one I really liked. I just felt no more pain. I didn't actually feel anything below my ribs, which was freaky, since that included the baby kicking. I slept through the whole surgery, since I hadn't slept in two days. I spent the night in the maternity ward, just so the experts could monitor me. I was having mild contractions, but they loaded me up with fluids and they went away. Apparently babies don't like it when their mamas can't eat or drink for 16 hours.

Then the joy of recovery began. We had a spare bed that was going to be our son's once the baby was born, so we moved that into our living room. My family set up a schedule and someone was with me at all times. My grandmother, mostly, along with two of my aunts. So I spent the last 7 weeks of my pregnancy in bed. My daughter was a week late. I delivered her with a cast on. Fortunately, it was only about 4 hours of labor and none of it all that bad, so I was at least lucky there.

It was loads of fun to freak out the chicks at the x-ray place when I went for follow-ups. "Is there a chance you might be pregnant?" Um, can you see this huge belly? Seriously, I was asked this when I was 39 weeks pregnant. I was using a walker, so maybe the way I was hunched over hid it a bit. They had to dig for the special forms they use for someone who actually is pregnant.

Today I occasionally walk with a limp. I have trouble going up really steep hills because my ankle doesn't quite bend all the way up toward my knee. I can predict the weather much more reliably than a groundhog or our local forecasters. And one of these days I should probably call my orthopedic surgeon and have these plated and pins removed. But the idea of signing up for surgery on purpose? Yeah, I don't think so.

Breaking the streak...

2006 will go down as the first year since 2000 (including 2000) that I haven't been pregnant. I say that and think "that can't be right." But it is. For at least part of every year since Y2K, I've been pregnant at least part of the year. Except this one. And I'm partly sad, but mostly okay with it. Every day that goes by, my life gets a little easier. Baby S - not so much a baby anymore as a toddler - is becoming ever so independent. She is, in fact, helping herself to a cookie as I type. Be right back.

Mr. T is in school all day and while I miss him, it's so nice to grocery shop with just two kids again. Miss G is in preschool and for those five hours a week, I only have one child to worry about. And she's usually sleeping then. I can actually get things done without having to answer 356 questions about what I'm doing.

I said to a mother at school the other day that it's now or never. We either have the fourth child now or we stay at three. In the past, I've said that I think I will regret not having another years from now. Lately, I'm not so sure. I think if I'd gone into my pregnancy with Baby S thinking it was my last, I would be okay with it having been my last. I've been trying to enjoy her babyhood as if she were my last child. Maybe that's why I don't feel as called to have that fourth baby anymore.