35 Weeks and Counting

I’m apologizing now for how wordy this post is. I wish I could just post like some of you, to the point in one or two succinct paragraphs, but I just don’t write like that, and hey, since I post so infrequently, they may as well cover it all. So, here’s a short version of what’s below:
Stick-It’s a big baby who doesn’t like NSTs; MIL has a health scare and FIL’s being an ass; most likely a C-section to schedule; my bemoaning my never-ending to-do list; travel systems and registries; a new used car just in the nick of time; and the lack of sympathy for my biotchy boss.

Measurements right off the bat. Stick-It hates NSTs. He moves around so much that the monitor won’t trace on a continuing basis, which means I’m spending at least an hour or two every time I have one of these things. His baseline seems to be somewhere between 122 and 132, and his accels usually are in the high 140s/low 150s when he moves. He did have a few decels yesterday between 104 and 117, but was pronounced okay. Yesterday’s u/s, which my mom’s best friend (aka my other mom) came to with me, estimates that he is now 6 lb. 9 oz., up from 5 lb. 11 oz. last week, still in the frank breech position, quickly running out of room, and with a head that’s measuring two weeks ahead (did I ever tell you that DS#2 had a head that was 14¾ inches around AT BIRTH, and was a vaginal delivery?!?!?). Oh, and I had a u/s tech yesterday who was one of the nastiest I have ever had before in my life. One of my big concerns, obviously, is where the Hell is the cord, and when I repeatedly asked, she wouldn’t respond. Same tech waltzed into the room during my u/s last week (being done by a different tech), gave major attitude when asked a question by my tech, and proceeded to leave the door to the exam room open while she was moving supplies in and out of the room, while I lay there, draped, my underwear pulled half off, and my stomach exposed. She pulls this crap next week, and we’re having a “discussion” with her boss.

On top of Stick-its visits, I have the in-laws to contend with. MIL had a scare; her defibrillator battery was totally out of power in the minimum amount of time it’s supposed to last. She went in last Friday to get recharged, which, due to her fragile health, is always a crap shoot. DH and I haven’t privately nicknamed this woman “Lazarus” for nothing. It was obvious something was up, as she’s forgotten that I’m pregnant the last few conversations we’ve had, never mind when I’m due, what we’re having, or what we’re naming him. Then there’s FIL to contend with. He wants me to have this kid on the 11th because that’s his late brother’s birthday; he’s already told DH he’s going to call this kid by his late brother’s nickname – Spike. I’m getting so friggin’ hormonal that I’m about to tell FIL to pound sand. If he had been half as attentive to us when we lost Jimmy (he wouldn’t even get on the phone with DH, and forget them coming home for the service or to support us), I’d might be willing to give some attention to his demands, but at this point, I’m tempted to get nasty and play the measuring-up game on him, you know, the “what you haven’t done that my parents have done” comparison. For all that we’ve been through and all the ways that my parents have supported us versus the way that those two have treated us, there is SO not a contest.

At the office visit today, Dr. Fav is 50/50 in favor of trying an inversion, which I’m really not in favor of, and also is willing to just reserve an OR now for a C-section. I am really hoping that Stick-It turns but I am becoming more resigned to the idea that the only way this one is coming out is surgically. Did I mention that DH was a breech baby, and since this kid is getting named for DH, should I have expected any less? Dr. Fav was also concerned about him being too big to be delivered vaginally if he did turn, so we had a discussion consulted the calendar in the exam room. I nixed the 11th and the 4th (Jimmy’s day) right off the bat. He asked about the 8th, which may be our best option. That way, DH will have a two day weekend that he won’t need to burn time for, the boys would be off from school and could come visit, and Stick It would be delivered at 38 weeks and a day. Even if Stick-It turns, Dr. Fav will most likely induce me then, so it looks like Stick-It only has three more weeks to cook.

On the home front, we didn’t get tons of stuff done this past weekend. We were able to check a few things off my to-do list, but not many. Still need DH to move furniture around and to get the bins of clothes down from the attic. That’s this weekend’s big plan, along with packing my bag the rest of the way and straightening up the house. DM has threatened, I mean offered, to come help me neaten up the house, but I’m putting her off. I just want to do it so I know where stuff is, and DH and the boys need to get off their asses step it up jump to my aid help me this weekend.

We did a car seat which is in fact part of a “travel system”. DH and I are too old and tired to be lugging one of those car seats around so we opted for the travel system. I also spent a lot of time looking on the ‘Net and did online registries at BRU and Tar’get, making it easier when dragging, I mean going with, DH and the boys to make some final decisions. I haven’t done a registry since DS #1 was due 12½ years ago. But we need a pack’n’play, a high chair, and a few minor things, and with our friends, particularly the girls, constantly berating DH about having a shower, this seemed the easiest route. I already have demanded that no one do anything until he arrives, and, despite their protests, they’ve respected that. What really ticked me off was that DH had to repeatedly tell them in no uncertain terms that I would never forgive him or them if they did anything ahead of this baby’s arrival, as putting the baby stuff away the week after we lost Jimmy was something I couldn’t go through again. Some of them just couldn’t get it. Even my DM was getting PO’d with the girls, and I think she said something to one of them. Now that we’ve got registries, they can pick up some of the stuff if they want, and if not, we’ll at least know exactly what we need to grab when they have coupons and sales over the next few months.

We also had to buy a new van this past weekend. Okay, not new, but a used van to replace mine on which the transmission was about to blow. We lucked out as the dealership in town had a 2003 with 69000 miles on it, and they gave us a great deal, taking my 1998 with 120000 and giving us full trade-in value plus a few grand. I’m not too happy about having a new car payment to deal with, particularly with a new arrival and the possibility that I will be looking for a new part-time job, but at least the new van is reliable and won’t be surprising us with major repair bills (we bought the two year/24000 mile warranty).

Oh, and my darling boss broke her arm last week, Wednesday to be exact. She apparently broke the two major wrist bones in her left arm and is now casted up past her elbow. It doesn’t help that she’s left-handed. So she’s not in the office, classes start here at the college next week, and she’s phoning me from home with her to-do list, mind you, while on heavy-duty pain meds. No update if she’ll be in next week. No update at all. And this is the biotch that has nickel-and-dimed my time during this pregnancy, giving me such grief over coming in 15 minutes late in the mornings when I had really bad nausea that I would throw up at summer camp drop-off, even though I was willing to make the time up, that I had to speak with HR and the union about it. So, needless to say, if this woman had been even a bit kind to me during this pregnancy and in the previous few years, I might actually feel sorry for her, but since she’s been the most demanding, unreasonable micro-manager, I have no use left for her. This is a woman (and yes, she has kids) who, when I told her I needed to leave early to go to the doctor to (the day I was panicked about not feeling Stick-It move as much when I was at the point I’d lost Jimmy), her comment was, “Oh, you’ll be fine. You have to be. You don’t know what I went through the last time. I couldn’t even speak, I was so upset. The words wouldn’t come out of my mouth.” DUHHH?!?!?!? What YOU went through when I lost MY child?!?!? Yep, it’s all about her, folks, and that’s all that matters in her world. This is the same woman who told me to take whatever time I needed after I lost Jimmy (after DELIVERING him, mind you), but, oh, do you think you’ll be back in a week or two because the work is really piling up. Same thing after my DH had his heart attack when I was 13 weeks along with Jimmy. Mind you, I was only out for five days when DH had the MI, and 18 workdays (4 weeks) when we lost Jimmy. Well, won’t she be surprised when I, with my union’s backing and standing behind my ratified contract, exercise my right to take as much leave as possible. I’m aiming for (mostly unpaid) 16 weeks’ maternity leave followed by 24 weeks’ parental leave followed by an unpaid leave of absence of at least a year. With DH working second shift, I’m going to look for something part-time in the mornings. Stick-It won’t go to daycare for at least the first year (BIG savings to make up for my loss of income), I’ll be able to schlep the boys to afternoon sports and stuff, and my years of service with the state and my job will be protected under our contract. Oh, yeah, and I won’t have to deal with Her for quite a while. Looks like a win-win for me!