Counting Down

Baby #4, still nameless, will make his debut in the next 3ish weeks. 2 if I'm lucky. I don't think I've spent nearly enough time on my blog whining about this particular pregnancy, and therefore very little documentation exists to prove that I have, in fact, incubated this baby boy for the better part of the past year. It seems the more kids I have, the less they get documented. For instance, Chatterbox and Smidget both have baby books, almost entirely filled out, with photos. Nothing fancy, but it's there for them to look at. Queenie also has a book--it's very cute . . . and entirely empty. This little guy doesn't even have a book yet. That hadn't actually crossed my mind until a couple of days ago. I should at least buy him a book, so he can have an empty one to hang onto, right? I still hope (eventually) to get something put in those little ones' books.

And so, to document ....

This pregnancy has been a very different experience from the other 3. They all went along about the same way, getting progressively more difficult (uncomfortable and exhausting) with each child. I had monstrous heartburn from the get-go with all of them, some sciatic pain around the second trimester, morning sickness in the first trimester, average weight gain . . . pretty boring stuff. Other than the fact that I am RH negative and test positive for group B strep, it's all been very routine. And if you remember, I delivered Queenie while in Utah (Dad was her doctor) so I never even went to any doctor visits. That was sweet!!

Contrast that with this pregnancy, which started out a lot easier than my last three. First-trimester nausea wouldn't set in until afternoon and lasted all night, but my mornings felt pretty good. Round about the second trimester, I ended up with some nasty bronchitis and was coughing my brains out (not fun with baby on the bladder, let me tell you!) This aggravated my sciatic nerve pain and between that and wetting my pants seven times a day I was pretty frustrated. My parents came for a visit and Dad got me on a z-pack; things cleared up; we moved on with (still) a pretty easy pregnancy. Then I got diagnosed with gestational diabetes. Luckily this occurred the week after I went to Hawaii, but it's pretty much been a game changer. I am now eating more carefully than I have in my entire life, writing down everything I eat in a journal, taking blood sugar levels 4 times a day, counting every carbohydrate I consume, and steadily losing weight, which I suppose is an added bonus. I have gained 16 pounds this pregnancy, which is unheard of for me. I have to see an endocrinologist every other week, plus go in for Non-Stress tests twice a week, so the young women in the ward are making some serious money off of me! Throw in the mix some false labor contractions (those actually hurt, darn it!) and deep exhaustion (thanks to anemia) and the past few weeks have been something of a blur.

Monday afternoon, I suddenly had a burst of energy. I have no idea where it came from, but it lasted me until Wednesday afternoon, and I was able to get all my floors mopped--I won't even tell you how long it had been--my whole master bedroom rearranged (new furniture came Tuesday), my closet all cleaned out and organized, and the house vacuumed and dusted and looking overall pretty clean.

I hit a wall last night and now feel like I'm moving through mud again. I could sleep all day. Creating a new life is downright exhausting, especially while trying to care for three other little lives and make them meaningful when all I want to do is retreat for a while. We are counting down in earnest now, though, and life will all change again. I hope I'm ready!