Things I love about being pregnant

I'm definitely feeling that this pregnancy is winding down, slowly but surely. Come what may, in at most six weeks or so there will be a lovely little lady in our house.  And actually my fingers are crossed (and you can cross yours too!) she comes more around Thanksgiving.

On Wednesday I had an ultra sound to double check that an ache/pain I've been feeling wasn't anything serious. I tell you, it filled me right up with Thanksgiving gratitude to hear the nurse tell me everything looks "perfect." It was strange to see that squished little body in the ultra sound (so different than at 18-20 weeks when you can actually see the body and body parts!).  She's weighing in at 6 lbs 9 oz already, and growing beautifully.

The whole experience has made me think about why pregnancy is in so many ways a joyful time for me. (Minus, I must admit, those weeks of nausea in the beginning. I don't cherish those weeks very much yet. Maybe someday). But on the whole, I really love being pregnant. And for so many many reasons...

• I love the wonder of it all. The absolute miracle of a baby being created inside of me. I simply stand all amazed that this body of mine knows what to do and how to do it. That somehow, a little human life is taking shape. It is truly godly.
• I love the way pregnancy causes me to reflect on my womanhood. It seems that these months stir me up into deep reflection about what it means to be a woman, a mother, a daughter. I become very introspective about my identity in a calming, soothing way.
• Pregnancy pushes me to be more selfless, something I always need help with and for which I am so grateful.
• I love (even as I struggle) the hard work of getting ready for labor and delivery. With both of these pregnancies--for differing reasons and in differing ways--I have worked really hard to be prepared for the climax event of birth. It is soul searching, faith building, and in every way stretching. I am a better person because of it.
• I love the growing belly! It amazes me sometimes that it can get bigger (and yet I know it can!) I smile to see my shadow on the sidewalk or my reflection in the mirror. 
• I love the connection that is made between mother and child during the womb stage. I love the kicks, the little games we play, the imaginings of who and what she'll be. 
• I love the nesting. I must admit, my nesting urges have slowed considerably in the last week or two (even though I still have so much to do!), but on the whole, pregnancy gives me drive and motivation to go, go, go. And I love it. I love the creativity that comes of it all.
• I love the smiles from strangers I get in the grocery store. I even love the random comments from people saying I must be having a big baby (!) 
• And for all I wince over them, I am grateful for all the little aches and pains of pregnancy. The reminder that this body is not my own. I am grateful to be an instrument in the creation process.
• I even love the struggle to eat well (sometimes failing miserably), and to eat as much as I need (which isn't always "for two"), and to not worry about weight gain, but being healthy and enjoying food.

I know a lot of women moan and groan about pregnancy, and I've met my share who decide during their first pregnancy that one is enough. Break my heart. But I also know I have been extremely blessed to be mostly healthy, only really sick for the first 16 or 17 weeks, and to have normal amounts of aches and pains. I have nothing to complain about. In fact, someone commented to me this last week, "You sure smile a lot for being pregnant!" It took me totally by surprise and made me glad. I hope I always smile when I'm pregnant.

As this pregnancy is ending, it makes me grateful and glad to think that this is mostly likely (hopefully!) not my last. We have a few to go, I'd say. I hope that each one is as wonder-filled and faith-building as this one has been.

Taken this morning: 35 week, 5 days

Carry on!

This morning Jeremy's alarm pulled me dramatically out of a dream (nightmare?) in which I was in labor. Two months early.

I must say, that while I am excited, thrilled, and eager for the little lady to make her grand debut... pretty please, I don't want it two months early.

I'M NOT READY YET.

Exclamation point.

Most days lately I have to hold off the creeping feeling of panic that wants oh so badly to surface.  There is so much to do! Can I get it all done??

Of course I can. One calm creative day at a time, right? Just keep plugging away. Even while the projects pile higher and higher. It's going to be ok. I'm not sure if my To Do lists help to calm me down or feed the panic.

Either way they are getting longer not shorter. Alas.

Yesterday, for example, was the third rainy day in a row. Raymond, bless his sweet heart, had chattering teeth during both breakfast and lunch.  Fall rain brought chilly weather (hooray for fall!).  Don't worry, I did succumb and turn on the heater for a few warm minutes as a temporary fix. And then I got to work.

You see, the boy doesn't have many (any?) long sleeved shirts. Warm PJs? Yes. Shirts to wear all day? No. He does have a jacket, but manages to wiggle out of it far too fast. Since we are a one-car family and running to Wal-Mart wasn't an option, I decided to make some. I took one of his PJ shirts (that fits great, although a little short) and made a pattern (a la Dana's directions). Then I dug in our closet and found some old shirts that never see the light of day anymore. Because re-purposing is the thing these days, no? Yes.

For my first attempt, it didn't turn out half bad. I did fix the neck after he went to bed, however (hello baggy boat-neck), and made another in grey. Today I'm going to make more pajama pants (the boy is a heavy night wetter... he soaks through disposables, double stuffed cloth diapers, you name it) and shirts today. They were shockingly easy (for raglan shirt or dress directions, see this tutorial over at ikat bag).

And wala! New shirts for free. Free is my favorite price.

New additions to the To Do list: making flannel sheets (tutorial here). And the shirts and PJs of course.
Long time must-finish-now-for-peace-of-mind portions of the list:  finishing the small pocket diapers. I'm getting closer. I have 13 completely done, 4 just needing snaps put in, and seven needing elastic, top stitching, and snaps. I can do it!
Other fun project I accomplished this week: canning tomatoes! My mother-in-law brought over a BIG (laundry) basket of tomatoes from their garden. I spent all of Tuesday making tomato sauce. Thirteen and a half pints later my pantry is happy.(And so is my husband who doesn't like the store-bought stuff).
Confession: Because my To Do list is so ridiculously long and the panicky feeling is getting harder to curb, blogging has taken a backseat lately. Alas.
Goal: don't go into early labor. Shudder.

POST EDIT: Pictures of the PJs. I used a much-too-small, but oh-so-cute receiving blanket that I had never used much when Raymond was a baby. Of course there are things I will do differently next time... but for this time, I'm super happy with the result!!

Oh baby!

I finally managed to order the rest of my diaper-making supplies (pale pink! butter yellow!) and knew my fun baby clothes sewing would have to be put on hold. So last week was my mad dash to finish enough projects that I would feel good going back to diaper making. (Side note: is nesting supposed to last the whole pregnancy? Because it hasn't let up around here).

I kept that little machine a-whirring all week long. Here are the fruits of my labors:

This jumper is a combo of a pattern I bought (my first time buying and sewing from a commercial pattern! verdict: tutorials online are usually clearer and more detailed) and a tutorial I found. The booties make the outfit, don't you think??

This little jumper is the next size up of the newborn ones I already made. (Side note: I'm worried those first ones will be more like shirts than dresses...). Oh how I adore this cherry fabric. The booties from above are lined with the cherries and are intended to match both jumpers. (ps. Please forgive the fact that I still haven't put on buttons. I have super struggling to find buttons I like these days.)

One thing I learned with Raymond: you can never (ever) have enough bibs. You would think I could just whip out these bibs... but I tell ya, the set of six did take me a few days. I liked getting to be a little more creative with the rick rack, ribbon, and buttons. Jeremy commented that I seem to be giving the lady bug the royal treatment. I responded that he would have been upset if I had tried to put anything decorative (like ribbon and buttons!) on a bib for Raymond. He conceded.

And lastly, for you out-of-towners (pretty much the majority of you), I am definitely looking pregnant these days. Don't you agree?

I'll be 30 (THIRTY!) weeks tomorrow. I tell you, this pregnancy is flying right on by. It's shocking actually. Yesterday Jeremy and I discussed the way we will rearrange our bedroom to make room for the new addition. I can't believe there are only about two months to go.

I'll be honest, I don't feel ready.

Once I get the diapers finished, I might feel more prepared. But I still have Christmas sewing and projecting to do. And one-on-one time to spend with Raymond. And more baby sewing. Definitely going to need all two months. But do not fear, I am confident that slowly and steadily I'll get it all done if I work on a little here and a little there each day.

In the meantime I'm enjoying my bulging belly. I might be the weird one, but I really love being pregnant. I love the belly. I love the kicking. I love the planning and scheming. I've been working every day for the past week to mentally prepare myself for the lady bug's labor and delivery. It's becoming a peaceful and calming part of each day. I am so grateful to be a woman and to participate so actively in this beautiful process. It truly is miraculous.

Come what may

Jeremy and I frequently ask ourselves what we think life will be like once the LadyBug comes along. It's a little mind-boggling, actually.

Because I honestly don't know.

Raymond, I'm not going to lie, is a pretty active little fellow. Not to mention, he was--during his first few months--what might be termed a "fussy baby." At the time, I didn't really want to believe it. I focused on the happy boy who did surface for chunks of time each day. But in between was a lot of crying and rocking and swaddling and nursing and very very little sleeping (by either of us). I hate to admit it, but those first three months were rough for me.

You would think the (very fresh) memories of that would make me nervous about doing it again... this time with an 18-month-old at my heels. An attention-loving, hand-on, busy little fellow.

But you know, call me crazy, I feel extremely calm about the whirlwind that will hit this house in just about three months.

I've decided that if somehow this little Lady is a crier like Raymond, well, I handled it once before. But I think she'll be a little bit calmer. She's not nearly the kicker Raymond was in the womb anyway. I think she's going to bring her own special peaceful presence even while turning our world upside down (or Raymond's anyway).

I feel absolutely sure that this is when Heavenly Father wanted us to have another one. Which means He is absolutely sure I can be the mother of two little ones right in a row. It's a good feeling.

As Jeremy frequently reminds me, I'm made for this.

 26 weeks, 1 day and going strong.

Today I am grateful for:

1. Toys on the living room floor. Really I am. I love watching that little boy put his blocks in and out of the bag they came in. And then throwing them across the room. 
2. The fact that I only gained three pounds in the last four weeks. I was sure the amount of ice cream, brownies, and marshmallow maties I have eaten in the last week would have done more damage. Here's to a healthier week!
3. Kind words. A friend gave me a little thank you note (for nothing in particuar) on Sunday... and it's still making my day.
4. Living en route to Provo. It means we get to be a designated pitstop for family going back and forth to California. It's seriously the best.
5. Good books. I am reading The Yearling by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings--a book I remember loving in my youth (but remember very little else about). The father and son have the most tender relationship. The simple beauty of their lives and their relationships is inspiring.
6. My pioneer heritage. Yesterday my dad brought me ALL of his family history stuff. I have been wanting to get my hands on it for a while--to make copies of the stories and start helping him weed through all the many (confusing) pedigree charts. I learned yesterday that Ann Roberts (my great-great-great-great grandmother had 15 children--five single births and five sets of twins (there is hope for me getting a set of twins someday!!). Her husband died when the oldest was 16 and she was three months pregnant with the last set of twins. Talk about a righteous and faithful woman.
7. The fact that Raymond's blood type is O Negative.There seems to be significant confusion about what my and Jeremy's blood types are (new tests are pending). And when you're pregnant, the Rh factor matters. But I have the feeling I should have gotten a RhoGAM shot while pregnant with Raymond, and didn't. It's just lucky that since (I think) I'm A negative and not positive, he also ended up having a negative Rh. Or it could have been fatal. Long (confusing) story. But I'm glad. What would I do without that little fellow?

And oh so much more. Life is good. I am happy.

Right on track

All my life (that I have noticed) I find myself following a predictable trend: I gain weight in the summer and lose weight in the winter. All summer long I crave sweets and snack foods. I want to spend my days digging around in watermelon rinds and eating popcycle after popcycle.

And then one crisp magical day my appetite dries up. I just don't want to eat as much anymore. I have to remind myself to eat lunch (rather than work to not plan all morning about what I will eat next). There is something about the fall/winter that makes me just not as hungry or something. And those five or ten pounds that creeped on during the summer months seem to come off without even thinking about it.

While annoying and frustrating during the summer, this trend always makes for a happy springtime surprise of fitting into even my smallest size jeans.

So when I first found out I was having a winter baby, I decided that as far as weight-gain/loss goes, this could be a good thing. The inevitable would happen: I gain in the summer not only from my typical summer appetite, but a growing baby belly (that cute growing belly makes it a little bit ok, doesn't it?), and then towards the end of the pregnancy slow down on the "I'm gaining way too much weight during this pregnancy" and really only gain the recommended amount for my pre-pregnancy height and weight. And then once the baby is born (in the heart of winter) more easily take it all off. Sounds like a pretty good little plan, doesn't it?

(Of course, I'm really trying hard to curtail the cravings for sweets and snacks and to keep myself healthy this summer. Just so you know. And of course I don't plan on starving myself come fall or winter. At all. But I know it will be easier to not overeat. That's always nice.)

Anyhow, I thought you would all like to know that so far things are going according to plan. I am definitely gaining some, ahem, "baby weight" during these hot summer months. And I am definitely looking forward to not craving food so often. Soon.

And in the meantime my belly is rounding itself out nicely, don't you think?? (ok so maybe this picture does not do the belly justice. I promise it's out there nice and prominent.)

I am 23 weeks today (which according to babycenter means the little lady is at least 1 pound and a good 11 inches long!).

19 Weeks 2 days

Last Wednesday (the 7th) our (one and only) computer got a virus. Since we're not high-tech-super-computer-savvy folk, we did what made the most sense to us: we immediately packed it up (it's a laptop) and took it to the local computer fixing people.

And then we waited for the phone call saying to come and pick it up, good as new.

One day, two days, three days... no such luck. We called, and they still hadn't even gotten to it yet. Seriously. We debated just going to pick it up and try and fix it ourselves.  But reason prevailed and we waited.

A whole solid week later, it was done.

It was a learning experience week for me. I discovered that I like having the internet at the tip of my fingers. I like keep track of all of you bloggers out there. I like access to my email and pandora. I also discovered that I can survive without a computer... for a short period of time. And that the computer is a significant distraction when it comes to down time in my day. I sometimes just didn't know what to do with myself (which also has to do with the fact that I'm in a book-funk. Just don't know what to read next).

Anyhow, since getting it back, I've been making up for all the blog posts I wrote in my head in the meantime. I hope you won't get too used to the daily postings... because chances are I won't keep them up.

But in the meantime I thought I might try to be a little bit more consistent about posting pregnancy pictures than I was with my last pregnancy. Of course most of them will be taken on my phone (and thus be terribly low quality). And I don't even aspire to doing it weekly (which would probably get old anyway).

But here's a start:

Obviously I'm looking a lot more pregnant earlier on than I did with Raymond. But at least I'm moving out of the belly roll stage and into more of a baby bump. That's happy. Also happy is all the little pin prickings I feel more of as the little lady moves around. Love it.

And that should be enough pregnancy/maternity/baby posts for at least as week.

A few thoughts on labor and delivery

Before getting pregnant the first time, I had never really given much thought to natural childbirth. My mom had epidurals. My sisters had epidurals. My mother-in-law wished she could have had the option of epidurals. In the back of my mind I assumed I would join the epidural club. It was pretty much a non-issue for me at that point.

But once I was pregnant and reading books on the subject and actually thinking about what I envisioned when I was in that L&D room, I knew pretty early on, that pain medication of that sort was not for me. I actually felt sick to my stomach when I thought about them putting that needle in my back. And I felt anxious and frustrated at the prospect of having so little control over what was going on. I literally had nightmares about it.

But I must say, this doesn’t change the way I feel about other people choosing to do an epidural. I have NO PROBLEM with other women deciding they want pain medication during labor and delivery. You have my respect and my support. I don’t think a natural childbirth is more honorable or any of that kind of junk. The important thing (for me) is that each woman has the experience she chooses to have. And, after all, what really matters is that mother and baby are alive, healthy, and well when all is said and done.

I see this as one of those intensely personal decisions.

I think it’s super important that the mother feels good about the choices she makes in labor and delivery. Some women go natural the first time, and have an epidural the second. Some do an epidural the first time, and go natural from there on out. Some women go one way and stick with it every time. Some women give birth in bathtubs or their own beds. Some women don’t have much choice and have to do a C-section.  And some women plan to get an epidural but are forced to go natural for one reason or another. (As far as I can tell that’s the absolute worst way to go natural.)

With my first baby, I didn’t tell anyone I was going to go natural (unless they asked) because I just did not want anyone (especially all those women in my family whom I admire and respect) to think I looked down on their choice in any way. And of those I did talk to about it, most of them were adamantly opposed to the idea. Even Jeremy took some time warming up (although he was 110% supportive as soon as he saw how important it was to me). I also didn’t want to deal with more criticism than I had to.

For the record: I gave birth in a hospital with a doctor. I don’t think I’ll ever even consider doing a water birth or a home birth. I am going to a midwife this time around, even though my last doctor was fantastic. But my midwife’s office is in the hospital, and I will again give birth in the hospital.

There are a few reasons why natural birth is important to me. They might not be important to you, and that’s ok. Or the cost just might outweigh the benefits for you. That’s ok too. Please don’t take anything I have to say as a judgment on you or your power to choose.

I like to be in control. And more than anything else, it is important to me to be in control of the things that I can control. I hate the idea that I might not be able to feel what is going on to my body during a crucial experience like giving birth. I’ve heard mothers who opted for an epidural describing birth as surreal or as feeling  detached. There is nothing I want to feel more attached or present for than one of my children entering mortality. I want to be part of it. I want to consciously channel those contractions to do what they are meant to do. I don’t want the doctor having to tell me when to push; I want to know with every fiber of my being that the time is now.

Before becoming pregnant I had never been to the hospital for myself. No stitches. No appendicitis. No broken bones. No nothing. I had not experienced much physical pain up to that point in my life. But there were a few things that made me confident that I would be able to handle the pain of labor and delivery. Most importantly, I have a testimony that women are made for this. It is part of our make up, our callings, our purpose. Our bodies instinctively know what to do. Yes, women throughout history have died from this process. Yet thousands and millions of others have not. They handled it. Eve, alone and without precedence, handled it. I knew (I knew), going in, I could handle it. I was mentally prepared for it.  The pain of labor isn’t arbitrary or pointless. I was confident that I could surrender to it and focus it.

I needed to prove to myself and to God what I am capable of.

And yes, indeed, it was long, it required endurance, and it was painful. I screamed (just once) when I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t scream. I wanted to despair when the process dragged on and my body stopped progressing. But I did not. I focused, I prayed, I held onto the hope of that little body meeting mortality.

For me, labor (the hours of contractions) was much easier (I use that term loosely) than I anticipated, and delivery (the hours of pushing) was much more difficult than I anticipated. The entire process sucked me dry. I was beyond exhausted and spent when my first sweet baby boy was placed in my arms. And yet I have never been more alert, aware, or present than at that moment.

It was beautiful and empowering and a testimony that “trailing clouds of glory did [he] come”.

Of course every mother can have such beautiful moments with their newly birthed babies no matter how or where that baby is born.  But I am grateful for the soul stretching experience I was given with my sweet boy. I am profoundly grateful for the things I learned during the process of pregnancy, labor, and delivery. And I look forward to the moment when my little girl will be placed in my arms.

 I know, I know, I'm only half way there. I'm just one of those crazy people who reads about and thinks about these things the whole 40 weeks, I guess.

Sugar and spice and everything nice.

Does that stack of fabric make you as happy as it makes me? Mmmm, I could gobble it up.

And do you know what it means?

There's a little lady making her way to this house in December who needs some sewing done just for her.

I finally bought otter pops

on the day it rained and was cold. Go figure. After a week of 90+ heat and serious efforts to not turn on the meager (and expensive) air conditioning units in our apartment, Wal-Mart brand otter pops (SO much bigger and better than the name brand) were at the TOP of my grocery list. And you know, despite the pitter-patter on my windshield on the way to the store, I still bought them. Oh heaven in a little plastic container.

In fact, I'm eating one right now. At 8:21 in the morning.

And you know, it's a good thing I did because yesterday "morning sickness" came back on with a vengeance fearful to behold.  I was grateful for the little bits of sugar-water that managed to stay in my system.

And for a husband who was willing to do ALL the (many) dishes and play with Raymond and cut the tops off my otter pops.

He's a good man, I tell ya.

Happiness

Last night I lay on my back on my bed and felt with my hand down low around my pelvis, and sure enough there was a little round ball under my cupped hand. A few seconds later the braxton hicks subsided.

I think she's a girl; although, I was pretty sure Raymond was a girl too.  Only time will tell.

I feel like I've gone through a roller coaster of emotions with this pregnancy. Nervous at what other people would say about us having another so soon. Anxious that Raymond will handle becoming a big brother selflessly. Excited to already be blessed with another sweet baby to love and cuddle and call my own. Calm and sure that this is God's plan and will and desire for our family.  Uneasy that there could be complications--a feeling I didn't have with Raymond. Happy that Raymond will get another playfellow. Eager to find out what the gender will be and to organize and prepare. Tired and sick--particularly when I don't eat often enough.

But the overriding emotions are happy and calm.

The first weeks and months of pregnancy are hard because it still seems so surreal and mostly all you feel is hungry and nauseous all at the same time.  But at the same time it has felt very very real. We are having another baby. A tiny little newborn who doesn't sleep through the night, but rather sleeps all the day long. A little person with personality and potential. A new dimension to our family.  In a blessing Jeremy recently gave me (in the middle of a particularly hard night) he reminded me that ultimately the Lord is in charge and His will will be done. And--my favorite line--that I will find happiness in it.

I love pondering upon that happiness. The happiness the Lord has in store for me... in the gift of a tiny new baby.


Due Date: December 7th, 2010.
Today: I am 13 weeks along.

I probably should be embarrassed

Speaking of mirror pictures, I have a long standing weakness for them.  Something about the awful yellow lighting, the glare, the struggle to get the angle just right, the justification for fuzzy edges. It satisfies a deep inner hunger.

It all started two (or so) years ago when I was living alone. I really didn't mind living alone the vast majority of the time... but it did encourage two things: dance parties and mirror pictures. Let me elaborate:

1. I think it all started with my first (ever) snow day. I was stuck inside (thankfully) and in the mood to use my time wisely.

2. Then I realized mirror pictures are good times. A few weeks later it was St. Patrick's Day and I needed the world to recognize that I was wearing green. I think this was a mirror/dance party combo.

3. And then I started using it as a way to record certain days

Like San Juan High School's Junior Prom. I was a chaperon (who also made it to the dance floor, if you recall)

Or the night Jeremy and I saw Horton Hears Who (and we ended up planning our futures together dating officially)

4. When I was home right before getting married (summer 2008), Paige got in on the action.

4. When I was pregnant, I started taking mirror pics to record the growing belly:

five or six months along:

34-35 weeks:

Right there at the end (the last few days) (Man, I was huge):

Since having Raymond, most of you indicate that a picture without him in it is, well, not a picture worth posting.  So today he joined the mirror pics club.

(Yes, I do realize he's been wearing that sweatshirt since he was roughly three months old, and it's a good thing you can't see how high water his jeans are. Don't worry, hopefully over spring break next week we'll get a chance to do some Raymond shopping in St. George!)

I really, honestly think these kinds of terrible pictures make the world a happier place. Don't believe me? Try a few yourself!