Yeah. The title fairly accurately describes my week 33 panic. I am 42″ inches around. I have gained over 30lbs. I feel like the good year blimp. All I want to do is eat snickers bars and chocolate covered pretzels. And I have to push thoughts of labor out of my hear every few minutes. Honestly I figured by now I would be stir crazy to have this kid. Turns out I am pretty happy to wait a few weeks, even though I am physically miserable and humungous. I can deal with that. I am not quite ready for labor and then bringing little bits home with me.
The intellectual part of my brain knows that I am prepared to care for an infant. I can probably even do a pretty good job. The rest of me wonders how they can just let babies go home with people. No prep. No book. No nothing. Just “Here’s a baby, make sure the car seat is in the car right”. That’s a bit scary to me, but I suppose that is normal. When he finally gets here I am sure I will calm down. Nothing is ever as bad as we make it in our head…except maybe labor…but then I fully intend to have an epidural. So maybe not so bad after all. The times seems to be flying by in the last few weeks. I am told it slows down in the last few weeks. We shall see I suppose. As of today I have 43 days left until he is supposed to come squirming into the world. If he is anything like his parents he will come a week early and refuse to turn around the right way or be too big to fit through the birth canal and I will end up with a C-section anyway.
The other thing I seem to be obsessing over this week is maternity leave. I have several pages worth of lists that I want to complete before taking a break. Its kind of slow going. Hopefully I will be able to make it through them because frankly I have only a short window of time between baby and the craziness of summer series. I can’t believe how quickly things are happening. In the next few weeks I have another ultrasound, another baby shower, Maternity pictures, calling a pediatrician, getting taxes done, finishing the nursery…ahhh! Its a lot to think about, especially considering my slow largeness. Also pregnancy brain is a real thing. I think some crazy thoughts.
I’ve almost figured out sleeping I think. If I go to sleep at 9:00pm and don’t allow myself to have a nap in the day, as hard as that is, then I mostly sleep through the night. I’ve managed that the past couple of days though I know that not napping is not always going to be an option. I am way too sleepy during the afternoons. Perhaps I might even somehow waddle myself into my hammock for a nap today.
I’ve got the funk. And I don’t mean sweet dance moves. This particular funk is stemming from an overflow of life problems and hormones and the inability to control a great deal of either. I have always been the sort of person that can keep a fairly reasonable emotional even keel. Whether it was coming up with rent money at the end of the month, or dealing with emotional crisis’s or work problems or overwhelming to do lists I’ve always been rather optimistic that everything will turn out in the wash. This week has been one of those unfortunate roller coaster emotional weeks that make me want to cry because it isn’t that anything is overwhelmingly wrong its that I feel like I have lost the ability to deal with anything in a calm rational manner….
I have what I have self diagnosed as pregnancy funk.
I’m hoping it goes away soon. There have been high points, don’t get me wrong. The Nursery is finally beginning to look like a Nursery. I’ve also reached that point where I don’t actually want to do anything so while there is a ton left to do I’m hoping I find motivation next week. I don’t think it is going to come to me in the next few days. I’ve been prepping baby bags and baby car kits for those that will have little Carl on a regular basis (me, Steven and Faith). I’m working on a post about what I think should go in it. I like before and after perspectives so I figure I’ll write about it now and then later write about what I didn’t actually need that I thought I would. Much like the hospital bag post I am planning in the near future. All the baby furniture is painted, put together or should be here by the end of the week other than the glider my mom is bringing and the crib that is still in the box. I had two baby showers this week and then a super duper awesome one at the beginning of April. Maternity pictures are a thing that will happen soon. My tub finally stopped clogging. See there are lots of happy things I just have to grasp onto them firmly with both hands and try and let the other stuff go.
I will say that I am coming to that point in my largeness that seeing these teeny tiny skinny women makes me a little irritable. Hopefully in a few months I will be a semi normal size again.
I’ve had three lovely baby showers. The most recent wast last weekend.
Polka dots were probably not the best choice, but I was tired of wearing the same two black dresses so that’s what I ended up with.
There were fun people, and fun things and awesome decorations and a beautiful cake which I know there are pictures of somewhere.
My mother, sister, step dad and a couple of other did all the decorating. It looked great. I want to do newborn pictures with the little one in a basket like those with a big globe balloon. I just really love the way that turned out. I am going to attempt to hand something like that in his Nursery in the next few days.
All in all, it was a great shower. I’ve been blessed with three great showers and really we only need a couple of odds and ends things for the little bits for me to feel like we are as fully prepared as we can be for at least 6 months.
Here’s to hoping Baby Carl waits just a few more days so momma can work.
Over the course of my life I have found myself in some rather unique positions. My current predicament of being 25 years old, 36 weeks pregnant, with a dead father being one of the more unique. I’m fine with being 25. I’m semi prepared to have a baby in a couple or a few weeks depending upon how long I can keep him in there. Having a dead father is a weird proposition. I suppose that you would first have to understand my relationship with my father to understand why I am not wailing or gnashing my teeth. I recently realized that when I was a kid my dad never kept me by himself except for the occasional fishing trip on his boat. These fishing trips would consist of me fishing (cause I’ve loved it from a very early age) and him being any where from mildly to extremely hammered. By hammered I mean “three sheets to the wind, shouldn’t have drank the entire bottle of Crown and be in the boat cause how am I am going to get out” drunk. I still mostly enjoyed these excursions. Mostly I am sure because I was too young to realize what a scary proposition being in a two person barely motor propelled metal boat with a person possessing less that all their faculties was.
Other than that, and other than with me, my siblings and I were never with out father alone. I’m about to have a baby. I can’t imagine not leaving Carl alone with his dad. As much as I sometimes want to strangle Steven I would never worry that something might happen to Carl when they were together. Steven would never get drunk and supervise our kid. That’s just something I know, without a doubt, and would never worry about. They might drive a little too fast, or get extremely dirty playing in the mud or out on the river, and they might drag home yet another damn dog but Carl will always come back to me whole and healthy from his time spent with dad. My mother never had such a feeling of reassurance when dealing with my father. I’ve got a lot of mixed feelings about my dad. I’m also well aware that is not a popular thing to say. I didn’t love him in the traditional sense that one loves and respects a parent for raising and caring for us as children. I didn’t really love him in the sense that he was another adult human that played a large role in my life. I tolerated him. I talked to him occasionally. I let him live in his own world of semi delusion and rarely argued when he said something I knew to be patently untrue or just plain crazy. Over the course of my pregnancy my thoughts on him had changed a lot. I suppose new mommy hood will do that. I’m not sure how to describe our relationship, but it wasn’t traditional and it wasn’t based upon the sort of father child bond that normal people have.
Yesterday, less than twelve hours after finding out my dad had been murdered I was at working prepping for an Easter Egg hunt and fully intent to carry out my obligations that morning despite any turmoil or anxiety I might have been experiencing. I got to work. I got all the prep work taken care of, and then I went to tell my coworkers about the event and that I wouldn’t be coming in later that day and that I might be otherwise occupied this week. It was then I got a response I didn’t expect. While I am assuring everyone around me that everything is ok…cause that’s what I do when my friend and coworker looked at me, clearly upset, and told me that everything did not have to be ok. I’m tearing up just thinking about it because until that moment I was sure everything did just have to be ok. I just knew I had to feel a certain way, act a certain way, and keep on going until everything was taken care of. That’s just what I do. I am not a passive person. I don’t just let things happen to me, but for as long as I can remember when something happens I’ve never just decided to feel however I feel and not do what I thought was expected regardless of how I might feel about it. Until now. Until this event in my life. My first concern has always been how to survive intact from a bad situation not how or what my own feelings about that situation may be.
I’m going into this new scenario in my life with a different attitude and it almost exclusively due to a few words spoken to me by someone who cared enough to point out a simple truth I had been ignoring for years. It doesn’t have to be ok. It doesn’t have to be what everyone else wants or expects. I’m going to handle this death my way.
Thank you my friend.
Apparently week 31 is all about back pain and just how much one can successfully put up with before giving up and going to bed for the forseeable future. Week 31 is also about sweet little baby faces on sweet little baby ultrasounds. Or if you are my brother “That thing looks like an alien.” We had our 4D ultrasound this week and while it was an extra expense I think it was worth it. I mean look at that cute little face. A cute little face I will be meeting in a couple of months. Oh how the times flies.
I spent my first almost full day in a doctors office in a long time on Wednesday. I went from eye doctor, to ultrasound to baby doctor. We had kind of a long wait at the baby doctors office…long enough that I took a nap and so did Steven. I suppose since I am about to have a wee one and my appointments are going to get a little more in depth soon I should just get used to this.
The weather here has not been very cooperative for a large pregnant lady. I’m sick of the snow and ice and such. Hopefully we are past the worst of that now. Week 31 is also apparently the week where I want to do nothing but find the “perfect” baby bag….which of course doesn’t exist except in my head. I’m hoping that week 32 will bring a little less dreary weather and little more peace.
My newest Netflix discovery has been Death Comes to Pemberly. While I am not an obsessive Pride and Prejudice fan I do enjoy movies and sometimes books associated with the worlds created by Jane Austen (Pride and Prejudice) and Elizabeth Gaskell (Wives and Daughters, North and South). My favorite of these is probably North and South. Something about spring time just makes me want to watch a ton of haughty British miniseries and read all the associated books. This is perfect coinciding with my discover of Death Comes to Pemberly in the Netflix catalog.
This continuation of the P&P story takes place a few years after the original book ends with Darcy and Elizabeth and a bouncing, rather energetic young Darcy Jr. The movie (it is also a book) takes place around the time that the family is prepping for a grand ball. Georgiana makes an appearance as does Colonel Fitzwilliam, Jane, and several other beloved and some not so beloved characters. Leading up to the ball Captain Denny, and the still rather deplorable, but now a decorated war hero Wickham and as always a rather silly Lydia are on their way to the ball to *surprise* their relatives by showing up there unexpectedly in hopes of not being turned away. During the carriage ride Captain Denny has a fit of conscience and jumps out of the carriage with Wickham on his heels. During the ensuing panic Captain Denny is murdered and of course Wickham is the primary, possibly only suspect.
From here we are lead on a merry chase through many clues and multiple suspects until then final conclusion. It is a mighty mystery filled with touches of romance here and there. The movie definitely captures the romance between Darcy and Elizabeth and shows how their relationship could have grown in the ensuing years after the conclusion of P&P. We also get a rather satisfactory ending to Georgiana’s story. I would definitely recommend it to anyone wanting to get their British romance fix. And if you don’t have Netflix it is quite reasonably priced on Amazon.
In order to actually self promote (which I am bad at) I’m going to try a What I’m Making post on Wednesday. This week I am showing off a piece that I finished a couple of days ago. I got this neat quilted fabric from the thrift store and Ive turned it into a few different things but clouds have been my favorite thing so far. April showers bring May flowers right? I love rain, and clouds, and pretty flowers so this piece was fun for me. The background fabric is a vintage hankie.
You can find this piece in my Etsy shop.