Keeping the Faith

IF there's one thing that being pregnant does for you, it helps you enlarge your faith.  Because deep down you know that there's nothing you can do to to keep that baby safe inside you.  You can eat right, you can work out, you can follow all the rules, and you could be in a car accident on the way to work one day that ends it all.  Life is short and it's beautiful and it's terrifying to know that you JUST have to rely on God to bring you through.  Even the people with the strongest faith find they are just big hypocrites when a baby is placed in their care.  Because immediately you want to take care of it and nurture it and be the best parent you can be, in a really broken world.

So today, at 31 weeks, which I totally forgot until Lauren text me about it, and then Andy text me later about, I'm plagued with the knowledge that every time I've been taking the last 15 minutes of the day out to go to a doctor's appointment, they've been docking me an hour.  That's policy.  That's policy I had no prior knowledge about.  So down from 80 hours, of which I was fairly sure I had most of left...I've got 31.  31 hours of vacation time left.  I have at least 5 more appointments, which will dock that at least 5 more hours.

And here's my lack of faith.  We were trying to get me four weeks vacation, using savings for two of them, and then using vacation for the rest.  We'll be lucky if I get 20 hours of vacation out of that, after all the appointments are done.  Another clincher is, my office isn't open on Black Friday, but we can't work either, but we don't get paid.  Fast forward to Christmas.  We aren't open the week between Christmas and New Year, but we don't get paid either.  That leaves LOTS of time where I don't get a paycheck.

Where are we going to get the money?

When you start to lose faith, you start to doubt.  Lack of faith equals lack of hope.  And when you believe there is no hope in a situation it's a slap in the face to God- the author and illustrator of the Universe.  I'm sorry, you think your money problems are too big for God?  No, but sometimes I wonder if the starving children in Africa aren't more important than making sure my son makes his way into my white,  middle class life in style.  If money for the people who don't eat on a regular basis takes precedence over me having a few more days off to be with my son.

Maybe what frustrates me more is that Andy is working so hard with the money to make sure we have enough for me to be off.  I've gotten a decorating job to cover my time off, and he's been painting on his days off and just making sure we're not going over budget (which we manage to do many times).  He's trying to make ends meet for his new family.  And now this.  He says to me, "I just want you to have enough time off to heal."  My precious, precious husband.

So instead of counting my pennies, I'm going to reaffirm that all things are possible with God and start counting my blessings again.  (How much things can change from one blog post to the next...)  Our shower is on Sunday, and we will be surrounded by friends and family.  Lauren's shower was on Saturday and she loved her blanket.  Here we are together:

Enough of this pity party.  Time to get back to work.

And now for something COMPLETELY different.

Sometimes when you're pregnant, things happen to your body and you google it immediately to make sure it's normal.  Especially with your first.  Because NOTHING is normal about pregnancy when you've never had anything to compare it to.

But last night when my Handsome Husband and I were enjoying each others company, he may have noticed that my breasts were...um...how can I be discreet?  Well, they were wet.  And he points this out to me!  "Hey, your boobs are wet!"  And IMMEDIATELY I start to cry.  And he starts to panic, because I'm crying.  "What's wrong, what's wrong?"  I'm like..."It's too soon!!!  I'm not ready to have the baby!" 

Do you know what it's like to get BACK to enjoying each others company after that?  Not hard for the male, obviously.  (And because it's my blog, I can talk about things like this.  It's the open and honest blog.  We don't sugar coat here.)  It's harder for the woman, though.  AT least it was for me.  The birthing class lady told us it would happen, but I thought she meant it would happen to OTHER people.  Like, the girl next to us with breasts already spilling out of her shirt.  I mean, I haven't even changed bra sizes.

So that's the story.

Yesterday the baby did this maneuver and turned around and elbowed his way to a more comfortable position, which happened to be right on my bladder.  Glad you're comfy, baby!  However, oddly enough, a girl at birthing class last night said the same thing happened to her.  Perhaps it's the moon...it IS full, you know.

Count your blessings...name them one by one.

This was me last night:

Thanks to my husband.  He's my number one blessing.  We got this bucket with the intent purpose of soaking feet in it.  Last night after working, teaching, and a wedding consultation, it was 9:30 and I had a serious case of the cankles.  He poured the water and then offered to put ice cubes in it for me if it wasn't cold enough.  He has taken the back seat for so many months now.  I can't wait to spoil HIM again.

My number two blessing are these people:

My family is my number two blessing.  A few years back, my dad lost his job and took a huge pay cut.  Like half.  And in the past he was able to help us out if we needed it, but now he can't and I know he feels poorly about that.  Which he shouldn't.  But he does.  His health has failed considerably since then, maybe out of worry, maybe out of age.  But he does what it takes to get the job done, and I have learned that from him.  Do what it takes to make it work.

My sister is 18, and she's slowly becoming a beautiful young woman.  Our tastes and personalities are different, but I wish I had an ounce of her "devil may care" attitude sometimes.  She's not afraid to speak her mind.

My mom is the hardest worker I know.  She's not afraid to get her hands dirty, and has tried her best to instill that in me.  But I do wear gloves...  It's been a long time coming, that I could have a relationship with my mom, but I view her as a woman now and not just a mommy, and that's been the key to our friendship.

My number three blessing is my little son.  Because he has kept me praying, and dreaming, and wishing, and hoping.  He has enlarged my faith that all things are possible.  He has kept me expectant on God.  From the girl with PCOS who they said wouldn't conceive without a little help, to getting pregnant on the first try, to having a healthy little guy in there...it almost seems like a dream.  He moves and he kicks and he responds to my voice.  He already knows me and loves me.  He is the ultimate miracle.

Those are my blessings.  My support group.  As I think I have it bad, sweating through this pregnancy, feet in a bucket, TRYING to get comfortable, I think of all the women who wish they had a Handsome Husband to bring them a bucket of water.  As I struggle with mood swings and hormone changes, sore breasts and constipation, I think of all the women who would give anything to feel those changes as they struggle to conceive.  As I get frustrated with my family and my inlaws, I think of the women who have lost parents, who will cry extra tears on the day their child is born, wishing those people would be there to see their grandchild. 

I.  Am.  Blessed.

We're closer than we've ever been!

I'm not by trade a procrastinator.

But I can put things off a little.  Like, a whole week of blogging.

But it's not my fault!

No, it is my fault.

So here I am at 30 weeks.  The biggest changes in me are my hormones are just rushing and I just feel very teary and sad many times.  More sad that normal.  Actually, so sad that my friend who is a counselor at a women's half-way house suggested I talk to my doctor.  It's not that I never laugh!  It's just harder for me to see the good in things than it was before- and I'm no pessimist.

Also, my feet are swollen.  And my back is achy.  But it's worth it when he moves around in there.  Andy will lay in bed with his hand on my belly, and the baby will just kick and kick.  Especially late at night.  It's just these incredibly close moments that I'm going to miss.  Sure it's going to be amazing when he's actually in front of us, kicking and cooing.  But there's something about just me, and Andy, and Baby, just being together.  Like Andy and I had this bond to begin with, and the baby just wiggled his way in there, and we were fine with it.

At the grocery store, Andy was weighing squash, after hearing that the baby was 3.1 lbs, and about the size of a squash.  He found one about 4 lbs, and then we held it up to my belly.  Ah, these are the moments :)

We had an ultrasound on Friday, and it was very reassuring.  He's still a "he"...which I ask every time, and they show me every time.  And he's in the 57th percentile with his size.  So over all we have a very very normal little boy.  His heart is healthy, his brain is healthy, his little kidneys are functioning well.  My placenta is at the right place, and functioning normally.  The amount of amniotic fluid is right on with the size of the baby, and the umbilical cord is doing what it's supposed to.  I'm thankful.  SO thankful.

He looks like this :

We asked him REALLY nicely to show us his face, and instead he covered it with his hands.  And his feet.  And then he hid in my hip bone.  So he's bashful.  And he doesn't like his heart beat taken!  He kept kicking the technician!  Little snot :)  She couldn't get a clear reading, so they had to try a few times.

The nursery is painted, thanks to my dad, and hopefully on Friday, we can get the crib over to our house, and the little table from when I was growing up, and get our act together.  I always get these urges to clean...while I'm at work.

This past weekend we went camping with my family, and it proved to be quite the event.  But we had a wonderful time, and it wasn't TOO bad, hovering to pee all weekend.  However, my belly was too big for the showers so...I came home a little stinky.  It felt good to wash at home without my belly touching that nasty shower curtain...

That's it for now!  We're closer than we've ever been!

Oooh, it makes me wonder...

So the other night I was coming out of the gym (that's right, I still go to the gym) and I drove to Giant to drop off a RedBox, and as I was coming back to my car, I realized there was a little white dog in the car next to me.  With no windows cracked.  As I surveyed the car, I knew I couldn't just leave it there.  It's been one of the hottest summers to date, and I knew if I was hot, the poor little pup would be even more hot.

So I did my civic duty and called the police.  And the woman gave this sob story how her "husband dropped the car off" and she "didn't even KNOW the dog was in the car" and "thank you so much for telling me" and blah blah blah.

But that's not the point of the story.

The point of the story is I came to this realization that I'm soon going to have a son who's going to be watching and learning from ME.  He's going to see the choices I have made, and I'm going to be accountable to him.  From here on out.  From an innocent, "Mommy, what do I do?"  to a perhaps arrogant, "Well YOU did it when you were my age!" 

So if my son was with me, and he was taking mental notes, I would have wanted him to see his mom call the police on behalf of a panting pup in a locked up car.  I would have wanted him to learn that you don't just stand back and watch injustice.  The attitude of "don't get involved" has left the world sore and desperate.  Women are abused and children are mistreated because people don't want to get involved.

It makes me wonder what he's going to see in his lifetime.  And if he'll become bitter, or if I can teach him how to love and pray and respect people.

Yesterday we hit the third trimester and tonight we will celebrate by going to Carrabba's for some yummy food.  (If you remember, we went to Country Tables for the second trimester celebration...this is slightly more upscale...)  As if our son knew it was his special day, he didn't stop moving and shaking all day long!  He was actually moving the covers last night! 

In other news, Andy's parents bought us a camcorder and mailed it to us and we got it yesterday!  Andy's extra excited because one of the things his dad has always done is record all their life moments.  Andy will now continue the tradition, and I'm so glad :)

You and me and the baby makes THREE!

One of the questions it has in my little baby diary I've been filling out at home is, "When you close your eyes, what do you see about your baby?"  And maybe I've blogged about this before, but it's my blog and I can repeat myself if I want to.

I have this amazing image of Andy and myself and the baby, watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, all bundled up on our sofa.  Explaining to him who everyone is...covering his little baby ears during the teeny-bopper, auto-tuned singers performances...tearing up a little when Santa comes on the screen, because we always do.  And then Thanksgiving lunch (this year at my parents, thankfully, because I LOVE having it at my house, but it might be just too much) and having the baby at the table with us...he'll only be a month or two old, but, it's fine.  And I have this little outfit for him!  Khaki pants and a long sleeved, oxford shirt (yellow and blue!) with a pair of little boat shoes :)  Oh, and a belt.  Thanksgiving is BY FAR my favorite holiday, and just knowing the next one we come to will include our baby boy...it's too much NOT to be excited :)

I've honestly been thinking about Black Friday shopping with him.  I'm not a hardcore, day long shopper.  Maybe enough to see Daddy at Kohls, and run to Michaels to buy some yarn and crafty things.

This weekend I went to a Bridal Shower.  They served salmon.  I couldn't eat the salmon, so they offered to make me chicken.  I don't do chicken.  So it was two salads for me.  I felt SO rude.  Not to mention I had to leave early to make the youth group zip line trip.  I didn't even get cake :(  and to be honest with you, up until the point I turned the corner off my street, it never even occurred to me that I didn't have a gift.  Thank goodness for a CVS that offers cards AND gift cards for other retailers. 

My sister lent me a dress for the shower, and my mom took it up at the straps.  I looked like this :)

Looking at the bottom picture, I'm realizing how much my back is bending.  No wonder it hurts so badly!

I had my 7 month appointment on Friday.  I'll be 28 weeks tomorrow (happy third trimester!) and I was measuring at 32 weeks.  But I've only gained a pound from my pre pregnancy weight ( 10 lbs in all) so I wasn't too concerned.  Looking forward to the gestational diabetes test in the next two weeks...not.  I'm boning up on my fiber, and not missing any metformin, hoping my PCOS doesn't fail me now.  Stupid PCOS.  I mean, what's the worst that can happen?  Well.  If I couldn't eat watermelon...then maybe that's the worst.

In two more weeks I go for my last ultrasound.  I hope we can see his tiny baby face.  I hope he's healthy.  I hope God is smiling on me and my tiny family :)

Movin' on Up!

Well, whomever had the brilliant idea of putting July 4th square in the middle of the week, was a gigantic loser.  Don't get me wrong!  I love me some day off!  However.  I do not like NOT having the rest of the days off in the week.  Long weekends are the way to do it.

I might take this opportunity to mention, if I haven't before, that there is no maternity leave in my place of employment.  I get two weeks a year for vacation/sick time.  See that "slash" in there?  That's a HUGE slash, it turns out.  Two years ago I needed to take some emergency time off because Andy's grammy died.  When I informed my boss, she said, "Well, there's nothing you can really do, right?  Do you NEED to go for so many days?"  Yeah, I kind of do so...

We're working on saving as much as we can now, so I can have two weeks off.  I am confident God will provide, and my husband can manage the banking.  But it's still scary.  (Oh, speaking of Husband?  He gets 2 weeks paternity leave at 60% pay.  PATERNITY leave!  Life is just not fair sometimes).

Yesterday was July 4th.  Happy B-Day, America!  We went to see "1776" at Susquehanna Stage Co. last night with my father (the local celebrity).  Dad did the set design, which of course was amazing.  But there was NO A/C!!!!!!  I was sitting in a pool of my own sweat all night.  Thankfully, Tiny Son was moving and shaking all night, so I wasn't concerned.

Yesterday morning, I woke up to find my son had moved up in my belly, allowing me more room for my, you know, internal organs.  Instead of peeing 10-12 times a day, I think I peed only 8-10 times yesterday.  Thankfully this is making me seem a little more round and a little less like I, you know, ate too many chili dogs.

The big feat yesterday was this:

Lovely, right?  See the headboard?  Made that with my dad out of an old door- it's truly one of my prized possessions.  I faux finished the walls and had the whole room done by the time Andy came home from hiking...last year.

This is what it looks like after yesterday:

A little like a nuclear bomb went off, right?  Well, that's going to be the nursery!  My beautiful headboard will go to Keith and Kristi, who I'm sure will love it as much I have (and someday they will give it back) and the bed went to my parents house, where it will become a make shift bedroom for my inlaws (oh THAT'S a whole other blog entry...).  So as the room unfolds, I'll record it all here.  As you can imagine, there's a lot of work to be done, and I'm a little helpless at the moment.  But I'm sure it's going to be amazing.