Lately it's been especially difficult for me to sleep. There's the achy hips, sore back, and the constant desire to go to the bathroom. I literally wake up every hour or so, which means that by the time morning rolls around, I don't feel well rested at all. Two weeks ago, we bought a "body pillow" to try and help me sleep, which is essentially a very long and thick pillow that Chad enjoys having on the bed so much, a few nights ago he moaned sleepily to me, "It's a really good thing that the pillow helps you sleep because at this point, I would throw it across the room."
So, yes. Body pillows aren't exactly the most convienent contraption while attempting to share the bed with another body that loves to throw his arms up over his head and stretch one foot to each corner of the mattress, completley spread eagle, while he sleeps. But I cannot complain. He has been more than patient, especially when I'm tired and cranky and hauling my heavy body out of bed at 2am so I can use the washroom for the fifth time in one night, only to return to the room where I have been known to smack his foot off the edge of the bed because he looks way too comfortable.
He's come to every single doctor appointment, and stood by me through all the nasty morning sickness phase. He even used to spray my little "puke bucket" with nice smelling scents, just so I would have a fresh bucket to re-use moments later. And today, when I felt like my body was starting to break down and I couldn't go on any longer, he filled up the tub with some nice warm water and lots of bubble-bath, brought me a mug of tea, put my favorite Jewel album in the stereo and adorned the countertop with candles.
It was so relaxing. More importantly, it was so thoughtful and so sweet, that it truly makes me thankful to have found someone like him to take care of me. And as I sunk lower into the warm water and sipped my tea, I couldn't help but tear up as my baby kicked and moved and played around in my tummy. There are some moments that we will never forget.
And that one, was all sparkly bubbles and Summer Berry tea.
2008-02-05 (23 weeks)
Dear Baby (February)
It's wonderful to feel you moving so much lately. In the past two weeks, it seems as though there has been a huge increase in movement and I'm not really sure if it's because you're bigger now and I can feel you better, or if it's just because you're simply kicking much more.
Either way, I love it. When people ask me what it feels like, I usually tell them it feels like someone's hand is in my belly - pushing everything around and poking me from the inside out. But even that is not a good description, and I don't think it can really be explained to anyone. Just felt.
Your Nana and Papa and Uncle Justin came to visit us this past weekend, and we did some more shopping for you. It's hard to believe that you'll be here in a few months, and at times I feel very overwhelmed thinking about it. You're half-way there, little baby, and your Daddy and I cannot wait to meet you.
You've probably heard him reading to you every night before bed, and we're really trying to get into the habit of doing it. You always start to move around and kick and roll, so he'll put his hand on my belly and just keep reading; occasionally pausing to chuckle when you give him a really good punch.
We've also been working on your room. Your crib was delivered yesterday. It's a beautiful crib, and I hope you love it and have many wonderful sleeps in it. Nana and Papa bought it for you, their gift to their first grandchild. We still have so much work left to do on your room, and at times I feel so overwhelmed thinking about it. But even when we finally finish the room, it just won't be good enough.
Not until you are in it.
Love,
Mommy
2008-01-30 (22 weeks)
Sarcasm or Not? You decide.
I'm starting to feel large. Or at least, very - very pregnant. I suddenly had a realization a few days ago when my t-shirt kept creeping upwards on my belly, about why maternity pants/skirts have those extra panels. It's not for comfort people, and it's not because you need extra room in your pants. Well, it is, but mostly it's because shirts and tops suddenly don't reach your waist line. And do you really want to have that inch or two of exposed skin, especially when it's -30 degree's outside? I didn't think so.
Regardless, my belly is starting to draw attention. People stare at it, others will rub it, and I'm becoming very accustomed to the usual gasp when I haven't seen someone for a week. Who knew that the pregnant tummy could grow that much in seven days? Apparently, no one.
And it's fine, really. I don't mind the awkward attention that my stretching and uncomfortable belly is bringing, because let's face it. I'm growing a beautiful little baby inside, and every single ache and pain and problem fitting into my clothes is totally worth it. But I'm starting to feel like everywhere I go, there's a bright light pointed straight at my stomach; which I have to be honest - isn't the only thing that's growing. Thankyou thighs, hips, and buttox for not letting my belly be the only thing morphing out of form during these months. Because we all know how awful that could've been, especially if it meant I could have easily fit into my old clothes after the baby was born. Oh the horror. I'm so glad I don't have to worry about that.
But along with my growing tummy, come the women who want to tell me all I need to know about "everything baby." It's really amazing how many childless women have opinions and thoughts and facts and comments and remarks and suggestions about what I've been through, what I'm going to be through, and how I should deal with it all. They had a second cousin who gained sixty pounds during her pregnancy, and did I know that she breastfed her child and still did not lose the weight? That means I will need to excercise double-time, no matter how healthy I'm eating now or after, just to get back to my pre-preggo size. And in case I was wondering, my baby should be put on solids at least around the 4 month mark, because that's what their friend of a friend did. And then there are the comments about how babies only usually weigh around 6-9lbs, which means all the rest of the weight is simply the Mother. (Uhm, hello, have you ladies ever heard of a placenta? Because those suckers aren't exactly light weight either.) But regardless, apparently I shouldn't worry at all because when the baby arrives, "they" will be here to help me the whole way.
...I....Can't....Wait.
Now, please don't get me wrong. I truly do appreciate all the advice and the love and the encouragment coming from everyone lately. I couldn't be doing this without any of you. Well, I wouldn't be able to remain as sane as I have been, anyways.
But when I'm told by a person I've met once, that my husband is worried about leaving me alone with the baby when he returns to work, and thank goodness this "person" is around to babysit for me; I start to get a little bit defensive. Especially when I find out what he really said was something along the lines of how difficult it will be for him to return to work after the baby is born because it's his, uh, I dunno - FIRST CHILD! Ugh.
I guess the comments come with the territory.
But man. Sometimes I just really want to freak out, and blame it on the hormones.
2008-01-29 (22 weeks)
Sandwich Woes
All I wanted was a sub sandwich. At least, that's how it all started. My husband had some running around to do so he kindly offered to get me one before he returned back home. Did I ever mention how hungry I've been lately? Because I am. In the kind of way that makes you wonder what your arm would taste like with a bit of hot sauce, or if it would really do that much damage to your intestines if you were to nibble on your hair.
So when my husband called me from the Sub Shop to inquire exactly what it was I wanted on my sandwich, I was already salivating at the thought. Olives, green pepper, bacon, ham, turkey, lettuce, tamato, or onions - oh the choices! But before I could exactly tell him what I wanted, his phone cut out. Or rather, his blue tooth did.
Previously to my husband owning one of these wonderful little contraptions, I never liked the look of them. I always imagined that men who wore them looked a little bit too much like Captian Picard when he was fighting the Borg; yes, I grew up watching Star Trek and I loved every minute. So shoot me.
As I was saying, his blue tooth cut out. Not just once, but repeatedly. And then we went through the horrible attempt of calling eachother at the same time, which has to probably be one of the most annoying things anyone ever has to endure, aside from being forced to watch "The Man Show." Ugh.
By the time Chad and I finally were able to talk, he had already left the Sub Shop. I sat in fear for a few minutes, waiting his return to see exactly what this mysterious sub, left completley in the hands of my husband, would taste like.
And lucky for that bluetooth, it was pretty stinking good.
