Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Same Time, Different Pregnancy

Today marks the same point in this pregnancy as the point in my perfectly healthy third pregnancy when things went SOOOOooo Freakin’ Wrong. I woke up yesterday at 6:30. Well, I should say that I was woken up by DS#1 asking me to open the battery compartment on his cell phone to get it to start (long story, but I think the kid uses/jostles/jolts the thing so much the connection comes loose). Before you think this child is strange or calling friends way too early, he is up at 6:00 every morning and has to leave for middle school by 7:00 a.m.; school starts for the middle schoolers and high schoolers in our town at 7:23 a.m. I should also explain that I sleep on the couch most nights; it’s more comfortable on my back, and I’m a very sound sleeper, so if I nod off watching Dancing With the Stars, it’s over, folks. Because I’m always on my side sleeping on the couch, Stick-It’s kicks are enhanced, and for the past three weeks, he’s kicked me awake with his David Beckham impression between 4:00 and 4:30 a.m. As in pre-dawn!! As in EVERY MORNING!!!!

So, as I tried to rub some semblance of moisture back into my dry-contact-sealed eyes to solve the cell phone dilemma, I realized I hadn’t been awake from 4:00 on from the kicking. First thought? Wow, I must have been tired last night. Second thought? OH MY GOD, WHAT’S THE MATTER WITH STICK-IT?!?!?! Thinking back, I have noticed a change in his schedule of activity over the past week (meaning it’s becoming more normal; he’s not active all night and sleeping all day), but he’s started moving later (not as strong though). He seemed to be lower yesterday, and was fluttering and banging away, but it didn’t seem to be as strong as it had been. My rational mind kept telling me not to worry, but to counteract the rising I-can’t-breath-panic-attack-feeling, I called the OB nurse at my practice. After explaining the situation, I asked if I could come in to just get the heartbeat checked. Mind you, this is per Dr. Fav’s own instructions, he who had told me not to get a home fetal monitor, but to just come in whenever I needed to. Needless to say, hearing my mom’s voice, the voice of the woman who was my rock through finding out that Jimmy was gone, who was my L&D coach, who was there to hold and rock and kiss her grandson goodbye, and then having to put into words why I needed her to drive DS brought me to tears. She, of course, was ready to jump in the car to get to me. So, in reassuring her, I calmed myself down. Called DH and told me not to worry, but that for my sanity, I was going to have a listen. Announced to my boss that I needed to leave 15 minutes early for a doctor's appointment. She asked why. I told her that I just wanted to get checked, as he hadn't been as active today and that it was around the same time in the pregnancy as when we lost Jimmy (she was my boss then too). Her response? "Oh, you'll be fine. You don't know what I went through when you lost him. I couldn't even talk. I was so upset." I know in her own weird way she was trying to comfort me, but everything is always about her, and this was just another example of why, unless absolutely desperate, I have no intentions of coming back to this position after I have this child.


Off to the doc's I went, her words still ringing in my ears. After a short wait (I got to be one of the last patients of the day), I was in an exam room. Needless to say, Stick-It was fine. The nurse who did the check is a former coworker of Mom’s, and got the heartbeat right away. I could even hear the whooshing sound the valves make, since she was right over his heart. So, all is well, and I could sleep last night. Well, that is, until 3:27 a.m. this morning, when Stick-It decided to answer my prayers from the day before, and began his Muhammad Ali impression for the next 90 minutes!

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Maternity Clothes Wars

I have reached the uncomfortable stage in my pregnancy, when you walk around swaybacked to make up for the huge belly in front. I was not on the slender side prior to this pregnancy, but I feel HUGE now. I can’t imagine how big I’ll feel in another three months! Having had two full-term pregnancies and one 28-week loss (the early loss meant I never got to the maternity-clothes stage), my ligaments are stretched (along with everything else), and I am carrying VERY low! I mean, the kicks are all at pelvic level unless I’m lying down on my side; then, Stick-It moves up a little. I am a pack rat by nature, and a procrastinator, so I never cleaned out any of the baby stuff. Honestly, I just shoved it away after losing Jimmy, and since I always thought we’d have one more child, I never went through it. Lucky for me, because I obviously need maternity clothes. Unfortunately for me, being bigger by about fifteen pounds (and in different places) than during my three previous pregnancies, a lot of the saved clothing either doesn’t fit or is off-season. So, realizing I have only a few (maybe three) pair of stretchy pants and four tops at home, along with a dress or two that still fit, I announced to DH on Monday that I needed to go shopping for a few more tops and bottoms to get me through the rest of this pregnancy.

And now, an update for those who haven’t been shopping in a while: apparently, maternity clothes designers are suffering from the same malady as the designers of regular women’s wear and of children’s clothes. It seems they believe that a) you should look like a streetwalker at all times, or b) you have gobs of money to go buy very expensive, classic clothing. Since I’m not dressing like a hoochy mama looking for a daddy for her baby, and I'm not made of money nor willing to spend lots of it on clothes that will not be worn again (because I am D-O-N-E with my childbearing years after this one, ladies), I spent much of my holiday searching desperately for a a few reasonably-priced decent-looking pieces.

Now, I normally take an XL to accommodate my shoulders and bust for tops, and I’m a 16-18 in the bottoms department. Well, that translates for L*iz L#ange at T*arget to be a Medium. I’m not kidding. The crap they’re selling would probably fit those little girls like Nicole Richie who get pregnant with their tiny bellies and then bitch about hitting the 100-pound mark the week before they deliver. Ugh! Or, as I quickly discovered, the designers think we should all emphasize our busts and bellies with empire waists and scoop-neck collars that just make me look even bigger! And did I mention the ribbon on the empire waist that accentuates the bulge, or the wrap-style tops that don’t cover the oversized twins in front that were once my reasonably sized boobs? Further complicating matters are the sweaters and velour tops that they’re stocking. I’m sorry, I’m still working, and it takes place in an office that has no windows that open, a thermostat that is stuck on “unreasonably warm”, and is in a climate that today is hitting 60 degrees outside. I’m already hot from the hormones, idiots, why would I want to wear something to make me sweat more?


So, I managed to find one clingy XXL top that wasn’t too bad and one pair of black slacks. Between that and what I have at home, I hopefully can make it through the next three months. Hopefully, with some carefully mixing and matching, I won’t look like I only have two outfits to pick from!

Friday, November 09, 2007

Bedroom Shuffles (aka IKEA Rocks!)

When we found out that Stick-It was on his way, and it became apparent that he was healthy and sticking, we had to break a promise we made to the two older boys. Plans had begun for a yard sale, with the boys were driven to clean by the promise that they could keep the profits from any toys sold. I had my own visions of an attic empty of Rubbermaid bins of outgrown clothes and a garage free of baby furniture and strollers. Yes, Ms. Pack Rat that I am, I have thrown only broken items out; everything else is still on hand. And them each getting his own room was a good idea at the time, with one starting middle school. They have shared a room since the younger one was 18 months old; it was a hot summer and we had only one air-conditioner for them to share.

With the anticipated arrival of Stick-It, plans have changed. They will continue to share, and on top of that, are losing their toy room. Yep, our third bedroom (all upstairs) was their toy room, where the GameCube and DVD player lived with the board games, Legos and Matchbox cars. It was a great setup: they were upstairs, we occupied the TV room downstairs, and the living room furniture was left to fade in peace. In fact, we only had cable in one room – the TV room. Our bedroom has a TV with rabbit ears that got three or four stations.

Then came the pregnancy news. And plans changed. My father was pressed into handyman service, splicing the cable so that we now have it in our room, the TV room, and the living room; he also wired and rewired phone jacks, so we can have phones in two additional rooms if needed. Then, the decision was made to give the boys the TV room, while we’d take the living room as our respite. The toy room would be partially emptied and repainted for Stick-It, and the boys’ room would get two new (and matching) dressers and a bunk bed.

Have you ever tried to find reasonably priced, not-a-piece-of-garbage, furniture, particularly bunk beds that would hold an 8” mattress? Well, thank the Shopping Gods for IKEA, home of Scandinavian furniture, or, as I call it, the Mothership for Shoppers! I’ve been in this place once, but the impression was made. Mind you, I’m not looking for heirloom pieces. I’m looking for something that, if a kid gouges it with a pencil, I’m not going to need his college fund to fix, and that I won’t have any issues about letting him take with him when he moves out (then I can get the good heirloom stuff!). I know too many people who spent big bucks on a nursery or bedroom set for their little darling, only to have the kid chew the $800 mahogany crib rail to pieces or play Picasso on the side and top of the bureau with a Sharpie. And hey, I’m just too cheap to spend that type of cash.

So, after much whining, pleading, and demanding, my DH agreed to the pilgrimage to the Mothership last Sunday after church. I had researched online what pieces I wanted to see, so we weren’t going in blind. Tape measurer and notes in hand. Traffic wasn’t bad, so the trip took just under an hour. Once inside, it took about 2 hours to walk around, get some food in the caf, make our final decisions, load our flatbed, and get in line. Then, the harrumphing began. The Patriots' ki
ck off was at 4:00 p.m. We got in line at 3:00 p.m. The watch checking began. DH’s temper with the kids was running low. The “knock it off”s started. I finally turned to DH, who snapped at me, “What?!?” I responded back curtly, “Knock it off yourself. I’ve told you we needed to do this three weeks in a row. And you always had an excuse. The Red Sox were playing. The Patriots are on at 1:00. Well, tough, you can listen to kick-off in the car!”. We got home during the first quarter, and I let him watch until almost half time. Then I told him to get up and come help me unload the bed. He was not a happy camper, but tough, I wanted these beds together, particularly as I couldn’t do the bureaus first with the boys’ beds in the room as they were; they wouldn’t fit.

It should be noted that, because DH is spatially challenged, I have always been the one to assemble things in our home. He is also a procrastinator, so that I have been the one at 7 or 8 months pregnant lifting furniture, putting together cribs, etc. Unless I throw a hissy fit, he doesn’t help. And honestly, with this pregnancy, on top of working fulltime and dealing with a 12-yo and an 8-yo, I’m just too friggin’ tired. Oh, and did I mention DH just this week transferred to an office closer to home (half the distance of his old one, so about 25 minutes away), but he’s now Monday through Friday 2:00 PM to 10:00 PM instead of Tuesday through Saturday days. So, I am essentially a single parent at night, dealing with pick up and practices and errands and dinner and homework and bedtime on my own. So, with that in mind, my demands to put together the beds Sunday night didn’t seem like I was asking too much to me.

With DH and DS#1 holding pieces up and together, I finished assembly at 9:00 p.m. The next night, I assembled one bureau, then Tuesday night, the second bureau was assembled and clothes put away in it. One bookcase has been moved in, and tomorrow DH will have to move the bureau that was in the boys’ room to Stick-It’s room (because it’s too heavy for me). Then we can clean out the rest of the toys, move the rest of the furniture out, clean and paint the room, and fix up the TV room for the kids. And if I’m still standing on Monday, I’ll be amazed! If we can accomplish that much, I’m hoping we can get everything done by Thanksgiving, when I hit 28 weeks. Then I can concentrate on cookie making, gift-wrapping, the holidays, and getting ready for Stick-It.