Saturday, May 31, 2014

Thirty weeks.

The first time around looked a lot like this:

The second time was a little more like this:

The last time I was in this position, we were packing up our house to move into my mom's for the next three months.  We didn't have a place to live, and the future felt very uncertain.  I had one child who was still sleeping in her crib, the first place she rested her little head a little over two years before.  It was hot.  HOT.  Unbearably, record-breaking hot, and would continue to be beastly hot for(ever) a really long time.  And I'm pretty sure that stressed doesn't begin to cover my emotional state, even though I was super happy to be 30 weeks pregnant.

And, these days...

As I write this, my two littles are outside playing in the sandbox in our backyard.  Their room is 98% finished, and the nursery is the next on the chopping block.  Bottom line?  Everybody is happy, healthy and will already be settled and ready by the time this little person makes its appearance.

Did everybody else just hear that great big sigh of relief?

I know, it's a bit superficial, but the truth is that it gives me such profound peace of mind to know that we will be ready for this baby before it gets here.  Praise the Lord.

So a few weeks ago I had a doctor's appointment where I let slip that Casey had been gone for over 4 weeks in a row.  Evidently this was distressing news to the doc, who got rather alarmed and promptly started listing off the ways I need to change my life so I don't end up on bed rest later in my pregnancy.  Seems that mothers with small children are like number one on bed rest... something about not taking care of ourselves, eating, drinking or resting properly, most especially when they're on their own... yeah, I don't know anything about that.  

She put me on the same restrictions that women whose husbands are deployed are on: I can do everything in my life, but that's it.  I can still pick up the kids and the stroller and go to the grocery store and all those things, but I'm supposed to pay very close attention to all the things that don't need to be immediately done.  Can someone else mow my lawn?  GREAT!  Do I really need to move the couch, or can it wait until Casey gets home?  So the general guidelines are to keep doing what has to get done to run our lives, but make the extra effort to eat, drink, and lay down when I can (back to that age-old nap when the kids nap rule of thumb), and don't lift anything over 5 pounds that doesn't immediately need to be lifted.  

I was all ready to disregard this advice since I was feeling really good.  And then the third trimester hit, and out of the blue I discovered that I have some very real limitations.  It's funny how fast that happens, and how quickly you have to remember to adjust.  

This baby is most definitely a girl.  Not only has this pregnancy kept up pace for pace with my pregnancy with Leah, but she's just so dainty.  Logan was honestly ready to break out, Alien-style.  He thunked me, seriously thunked me, all the time.  He was the same on the inside that he has come to be on the outside: full-steam ahead pretty much all the time.  This little one is subtle, quiet and downright demure.  Those are the adjectives I'd use to describe her.  I've never really had to kick count before, because my kids were movers.  This one makes it tougher and requires me to actually keep track of her.  

I also think she's going to be an easy baby (knock on wood and throw some salt over your shoulder.  For reals.)  She doesn't freak out in the car - first one of my kids I can say that about.  Leah and Logan both wiggled and wiggled every single time I got in the car, which translated to screaming bloody murder for the first five months of their lives each and every time we got in the car as soon as they were on the outside.  This one sleeps in the car.  My other two were totally counter to the rule of thumb that babies sleep when you move and are awake when you are still.  This one adheres to that pretty closely, except... wait for it... when I wake up to pee ninety times in the middle of the night, she wakes up, wiggles a tiny bit, and settles back in.  WAAAHOOO!!!  I am seriously, seriously keeping my fingers crossed that this will be something that continues once she makes her way into the real world.  (For the record, sweet little Logan would wake up and decide to hang out and do somersaults, which is exactly what happened when he got to the outside just slightly less the somersaults).   

And, yes, I have taken to referring to the baby as "her."  I know, seems a little risky.  But I'm convinced deep in my soul that this baby is a girl.  I've carried a girl and carried a boy, and this one is nothing like Logan and everything like Leah.  In my head I have always unconsciously thought of her as a girl, so often that I've just given in.

We also began to feel the baby and the outline of her little body in my belly.  Oh my word, that precious little body!  How much I love and cherish being able to carry this baby in my belly!  I feel so blessed to be able to lug her around all day.  All my wonderful little people, they sure turn out amazing.  Clearly, the world needs a few more...

We consider ourselves pretty lucky around here!

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