My humps, my humps, my lovely lady lumps

When in gawd’s name did it become vital to me to tell the internet about the state of my lady bits? Seriously, on the way home from my OB appointment this afternoon, I was mentally composing a post to tell complete strangers about parts of my body that have never seen the light of day. My MIL tells me that when she was pregnant with my husband, she didn’t dare to even say the word “pregnant” around other family members for fear of scandalizing them. My, my… how these crazy times have changed.

Now, then, on to the subject of my parts: I am officially 2cm dilated, but not effaced at all. I’m contracting like mad, but nothing very painful so far. (Thank you, jebus.) My OB says he doesn’t believe I’ll go into labor this week, but that he wouldn’t be surprised if it happened next week sometime. I’m not at all ok with next week, fyi. Gerald will be gone on his romantic weekend away, and my baby shower is on the 8th. I have plans! I can’t be rearranging my schedule just to have this baby! SHEESH! I’ve done bed rest like I was supposed to. I think I’m entitled to a little bit of a life before this kid shows up and ruins all my fun blesses us with his beatific presence.

I’ve got another appointment and sonogram next week, but the doc says the baby’s head is “way down” (No shit, Sherlock. I kinda noticed.) and he’s in the perfect position for me to try VBAC. The doc doesn’t foresee any problems with delivery, so that’s a relief. I mean, except for the part where the baby comes out of my vagina and ohmygawd the pain! and what if there’s tearing? and jesus, can’t I just get an epidural right now?

Fun Fact Friday

* I made it to 34 weeks! Hallelujah! I have an appointment with my OB on Monday and I fully expect to be released from bed rest. I’m already allowed to stop taking the anti-contraction meds on Sunday. I guess this means we’ll officially on baby watch. I’ve already told my dad to be waiting for the call to watch Maddie when I go into labor. My bag is packed and we’re as ready as we’ll get. (Which is to say, not at all.)

* Maddie used the potty last night several times and there was much rejoicing in the land. However, after using it once this morning, she’s firmly back in the pro-diaper camp. I know potty-training is one step forward, two steps back and then a jump to the left, but DAYUM! I really wish she’s stop yanking my chain.

* Gerald’s got a work conference to go to in OKC May 5th – 7th. Not only is that my 36th week pregnancy (which is when Maddie was born) but the 8th is both our anniversary and baby shower. Also? He’s going to OKC with his only female employee. So basically, he’s leaving me heavily pregnant and alone with the toddler in order to spend our anniversary weekend away with another woman. If only I were really jealous or even upset… I bet I could get some mileage out of that.

* I’m sort of hoping The Boy is born on my birthday. Or Gerald’s birthday. That would be kinda cool.

* Operation No Shopping is still going very well. I’m extremely proud of myself. It’s not been easy, but I keep reminding myself of all the good that will come of it.

Questions I never had until I was a parent:

1. How in the world do Emily Elizabeth’s parents afford to feed Clifford? And who scoops the poop? Also, wouldn’t you be a leeeetle bit pissed if you agree that your kid can get a puppy and suddenly the dog is mutant-freak-big? So big that you had to sell your house and move? I’d have dropped his ass at the local shelter as soon as he out-weighed me.

2. Where the hell are Max and Ruby’s parents? Why isn’t their grandmother more concerned about two young rabbits living alone? Has social services ever been contacted?

3. WTF is Wubbzy, anyway? Also, there are some gender identity issues seeing as Wubbzy is a boy and is voiced by the exact same woman who voices Emily Elizabeth. I mean, she’s not even TRYING to use a different voice, people.

4. Why does the Man in the Yellow Hat treat George like a freakin’ person? He’s a MONKEY. Why hasn’t George gotten pissed and just flung pooh at him? Isn’t it weird that a grown man, who refuses to wear anything but yellow, keeps a monkey like it’s a person? Is is some kind of replacement kid thing? Or are they a couple?

5. Isn’t it about time for Elmo to start using pronouns? I mean, he lives on SESAME STREET, for cry’n out loud! Those people will teach anything to read if it sits still for long enough! Surely SOMEONE there can teach Elmo to use “me, you, he, she and we.”

Involved

As a general rule, we are not Involved People. We’re pretty much homebodies and are content to exist in our little bubble of family togetherness. Neither one of us has very many brick and mortar friends that live close by. We’re very close to our extended families, but most of them live hours and hours away.

Suddenly, Not Involved has started to feel a lot more like Isolated and Alone.

Being a SAHM is lonely. Maddie’s great company, but we get sick of the sight of each other after a few days alone. It’s clear that we both need friends and to Be Involved. However, I haven’t the faintest idea how to do this.

There’s a local (surrounding three small towns) Meet Up group that I’ve joined in the past, but it didn’t really work out. First of all, I’m not like the typical, local small town moms. I always felt like I didn’t fit in. Also, most of the activities the group planned cost money that we don’t have to spend. I’m willing to try the group again, but I’m not very hopeful. I just want some moms to meet us at the park where our kids can play and we can chat. I want to trade babysitting a couple evenings a month. I want someone to call and say “Hey, let’s go to the zoo today!” I want… friends.

Part of the problem is that it’s hard to Be Involved in my town without school-aged children. We don’t attend a church in town, have a kid in school or community sports. How in the hell am I supposed to meet people? We don’t know any of our neighbors, either. Although, I did meet a couple and their kids that live on the other side of the neighborhood. They seemed really nice and even invited us to their kid’s birthday party later this summer, but I was totally clueless on how to further the relationship without sounding like a complete moron or stalker.

So, how do you meet people when you’re isolated? What can I do to change this? With The Boy’s arrival, I’m afraid that my feelings of isolation will quickly grow into full-fledged crazy and that always puts a damper on making friends. Unless you’re after crazy friends, I guess.

Five

Mom,

Five years ago today, I held you in my arms as you flew free of the body that had betrayed you. I thanked you for being my mom and promised that I would take care of Popie and he’d take care of me. That we would be ok without you and not to worry about us. It was, at once, the hardest moment of my life and the best. I felt such a feeling of peace and love as you took your final breaths. I just KNEW that you were going to a better place and that you were being greeted with love when you arrived. I have never been more sure of anything in my life. I was so glad that you were finally escaping the pain and weakness that cancer surrounded you with and I was so devastated that you were leaving me way before you were supposed to.

The weeks following your death tried me in ways I hope to never experience again. Five years later, I can remember the feelings emptiness and loss that threatened to swallow me whole, but they’re vague recollections. The pain isn’t raw anymore, but it’s not gone. There’s still an empty place inside me where you used to be.

I’ve made good on my promises. I’ve taken care of Popie and we’re both ok. He’s happy and I know that’s what you wanted for him. I’m happy, too, but I regret that your beautiful granddaughter will never get to know you. I regret that you won’t be standing at my side when I give birth to your grandson. I regret so many things, really. Sometimes I feel so screwed by the universe. How in the hell am I supposed to be a good mom without you? Who am I supposed to call when I need advice, or sympathy or a  swift kick in the ass to straighten me out? But these moments are getting less and less frequent. I’ve learned to adjust to life without you.

I hope you’d be proud of the woman I’ve become. The wife and mother that I strive to be. I know you’d be pleased that Gerald and I have been married for almost six years now and are very, very happy together. I know you’d adore your grandchildren and spoil them rotten if for no other reason than payback for my teen years.

I miss you, mom. And I love you as big as the sky the last number of times.

Erica

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So, it seems like my belly has exploded in the last two weeks. How is it that this kid only weighs 4lbs, 10oz?

Manifesto

Ugh. Enough with the pregnancy talk already! Am I right? The problem with being on bed rest is that I don’t really have anything else to talk about. Let’s just sum it up with this: last trimester = WAH! The End.

I was hesitant to post about my Manifesto because, well, honestly because it would make me even more accountable. But, the above mentioned lack of anything else to talk about has prompted me to share. So here it is:

I’m quitting shopping for a year.

Seriously.

I read an article written by a woman who’s done it. She was spurred on by the fact that she read that most women spend a full three years of their lives shopping. THREE YEARS. And what do we have to show for it? A bunch of junk that sits around for a few years until we give it or throw it away. She wrote about when she had time to kill between meetings or appointments that she’d stop in a drug store and invariably leave having spend $15-$20 on something for her hair, a magazine or other sundry things that she didn’t need or even necessarily really want. I recognized this behavior instantly in myself. I view shopping as a hobby. Target is grown-up playground and I wanna go down the slide just one more time.

You may remember that I lost my job when I was put on bed rest. While we’re not below the poverty line by any stretch of the imagination, we’re poorer than we’d like to be. poorer than we’re good at being. poorer than I’m good at being. It stands to reason that this is the perfect time for me to quit the extracurricular shopping cold-turkey. (I actually quit a week ago.) The only things I’m shopping for are essentials. Groceries (with no extras at the store!), seasonal replacement clothing and shoes for the children, and medications. No more trips to Target and Old Navy “just to see what they’ve got.” No more throwing things into the grocery cart because it doesn’t really feel like spending money if you do it when grocery shopping. No more shopping for clothes for myself because I wear a smaller size and it’s FUN to buy clothes now!

And just to brag, I went to Central Market today on my way home from my OB appointment with the sole purpose of buying some pregnancy tea. (I looked for it at my regular grocery store, but they don’t carry it.) Anyhow, Central Market is my favorite grocery store in all the land, and I live 45 minutes away from the closest one. When I go, I typically spend at least $50 on things I can only get there but don’t actually need. Today, I walked in, browsed a little, found the tea, grabbed three boxes and walked to the registers. I considered buying other things, but I didn’t. There was nothing I needed, just a lot of things I wanted. Of course, as soon as I got to the car, I immediately called Gerald to exclaim my feat and remind him that I am, indeed, made of awesome.

I know it’s not going to be easy to change decades of behavior, but I’m starting off on the right foot. And that feels great.

Wrong

You know, I’ve always heard other women talk about feeling their baby’s kicks. I’ve heard about strong kicks that hurt, fluttering kicks that tickle, etc. But I’ve never heard anyone talk about the crazy ass distortions one’s pregnant belly goes through.

When I was pregnant with Maddie my obesity meant that I didn’t feel her kicks very strongly. I had an ovarian cyst throughout my pregnancy and the only times her kicks bothered me was when she hit the cyst. I never saw my belly move like there was something alive living inside me. Hell, Gerald only managed to feel her kicks once or twice before she was born.

This time, however, HOLY CRAP. This kid is insanely active and while his kicks aren’t painful, they’re disturbing on a whole ‘nother level. My belly roils and shakes and punches outward like there’s a wild animal trapped inside. It is quite possibly the most disturbing thing I’ve ever seen my body do. Logically, I know it’s my baby moving around in there, but on some deep, primal level, it’s fucking creepy. There shouldn’t be parts of my body moving independently of me, you know? Any they definitely shouldn’t move so much that they slosh water around in the bathtub. That shit’s just wrong.

Preparations are underway

Things I still need to do before the baby arrives:

* Go through all of the baby stuff we have in storage and wash it all with bleach. *shudder*
* Go through all of Maddie’s baby clothes and pull out anything that’s gender neutral for The Boy to use, send the awesome things to Mama Bub, and sell the rest.
* Put the nursery together – Get the crib out of storage, swap furniture from Maddie’s room to the nursery, put together Maddie’s new dresser and big girl bed, rearrange her room so that all this new furniture actually fits in there.
* Make a bunch of meals that I can freeze so that we’ll eat somewhat decently in those chaotic first couple of weeks.
* Pack a hospital bag.

Things I’ve already done:

* Procured a love seat/sofa bed from my Dad and his wife for the nursery. It totally matches and they didn’t need it anymore. Now I’ve got a place to sit and nurse AND a bed for guests! SCORE!
* Bought a few adorable tiny outfits.
* I’m shaving my legs every other day so that in the event of surprise labor, my legs won’t ever be more than one day away from having been shaved.
* I’m also keeping my toes polished and heels pumiced. Because obviously, the highest priority is my personal grooming. Never mind that when I’m having this baby if my doctor’s more concerned about the state of my leg hair and toenails, then we’ve got a serious problem.

So, you can see that I’m woefully behind on the important things. What can you do to help? I’m so glad you asked!! I need some recipes for meals that freeze well. I’m going to make a lasagna, but other than that, I’m totally stumped.

And if you want to come over and move furniture, that’d be awesome, too.

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