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Okay, something’s going on. I’m a little embarrassed to be sharing, but I promised I would share everything and not censor too much. So here goes.

I really regret complaining about the peeing in the beginning of my pregnancy, because I hadn’t seen anything yet.

 

Sunday night I woke up suddenly around 3am with the sensation of peeing, even though it was probably the fourth or fifth time I’d been up already. It wasn’t much at all; just enough to send me flying to the bathroom. After I thought I was finished, I stood up and walked a couple of steps and then peed all over myself.

 

Yes, that’s what I said; I actually peed a little on my feet and the floor. At least I think it was pee; I had NO sensation of peeing whatsoever. I mean, it just came out, like under NO control of my own. What the hell? I resumed cleaning myself up again and returned to bed, a little worried.

Could this be my water breaking? I’m not sure what I’m looking for here…it would seem to me that it would be the water, but there were too many signs pointing against it. For one, there was no blood. Shouldn’t there be a twinge of blood somewhere? Also, there were no contractions and it didn’t continue.

I concluded that it just must be Avery “dropping” a little and this maneuvering on her part has caused me to have a little bit of urinary incontinence.

(Note to self: add this to the list of serious WTFs.) I don’t think I’ve done this since I was, like, four.

I told Mikey about it later, because I didn’t even feel it necessary to wake him.

 

Last night it happened again, only this time I woke up in an actual puddle of something, soaking through my underwear, pad, and Mikey’s boxer shorts. Everything. I jumped up, alarmed, and ran to the bathroom.

I don’t know what it was. It couldn’t have been pee…surely I would’ve woken up? I’m not even sleeping much as it is. It didn’t smell like it either. It didn’t smell like, anything. And there was the tiniest bit of pinkish on the toilet paper. I mean, teensy, but I couldn’t deny it.

And then there are the cramps. Ever since this morning, I’ve been having what feel like menstrual cramps, still relatively mild but more persistent.

 

Thank GOD I have my appointment today at 3:30. I’m so anxious to hear what the doctor has to say. This could be it; then again it could be nothing. Who knows???

 

I’m sitting here at work and can barely concentrate. What if I’m in labor and don’t even realize? I’m trying not to think about it; no sense in working myself up for nothing. Maybe I just have a temporary nocturnal peeing problem due to a 7-pound baby pushing on my bladder in my sleep and nothing more at this point. I mean, I still have 11 whole days until my due date, right?

 

I’m starting to freak out a little. I mean, I can say I’m ready to do this until I’m blue in the face, but every little sign that pushes me closer to labor and delivery, I panic a little. I’m scared in both the very best and the very worst of ways. I won’t ever be totally ready, I think, for any of this.

Every morning when I wake up, the first thing that pops in my head is, “could today be Avery’s birthday?”

NestingAs I round the corner to the 39th week, I find I’m in full-blown nesting phase. I’m sure this “nesting” manifests itself in various ways from pregnant woman to pregnant woman, although they’re all special unique forms of CRAZY. I find to my relief I’m no different. I’ve recently been blessed with this burst of manic energy, which is a welcome change to my sloth-like behavior over the past six weeks or so. I’m zooming around, getting things done again and feeling uber-productive! Yeah! Keep the adrenaline coming!

 

All of a sudden it’s become an emergency that the floors in my house aren’t sparkling. It’s as if I cannot clean them enough; I constantly feel like they’re filthy, which pisses my mom off.

Last week I ran out of Swiffer WetJet formula halfway through my 10th lap around the kitchen floor and freaked out. My mom came in and yelled at me as I was on my hands and knees with a wet cloth, finishing the other half of the floor.

 

This week, I’ve devoted lots of time to the baby nursery (which by the way, is BEAUTIFUL, pictures coming up!) and I’ve washed every article of clothing she owns, twice. I spent several hours in there this past weekend, folding and refolding her clothes and rearranging her drawers. I’ve arranged all the newborn-three month clothes in the top drawer, and all the 3-6 months in the middle drawer. I’m finding I need more room in both drawers but I don’t want to split things up, lest it become confusing, thus causing me to become stressed out.

 

My MAIN area of crazy obsessive behavior, though, has been my scrapbooking project. From the looks of things, you’d think I was dying around June 21st rather than having a baby. I’ve become OBSESSED with gathering and organizing every picture from every event over the last 4-5 years, and ive meticulously arranged them in chronological order, ready to be embellished on a pretty sheet of paper in a fancy album, documented for posterity. I’ve even gone so far as to buy Avery her very own pink album, and Gunnar a blue one.

For Gunnar’s book, I have pictures starting from the first day he came home. I have three of his baby teeth and two collars he outgrew in the past year. I’ve got his puppy graduation certificate and little pieces of toys he chewed up.  I’ve got so many pictures of his little butt doing so many cute things that I cant wait to get them all down on paper. I’ve even got his first birthday pages planned out; I just ened to actually DO them.

My plan for Avery’s book is to document both my pregnancy and the progressive changes in the nursery, month by month, along with all Avery’s ultrasounds and possibly, some of these blogs printed out and stuck in there. I just need to start it! I’ve got all the goods, I just need the motivation to get going! I’m so stressed out I won’t get it done before she’s here, and then I’ll have ALL the millions of pics and milestones to document and there won’t be any time. It’s so stressful thinking about it.

 

Not to mention, I can’t stop buying scrapbook stuff. I’m on this rampage to print out a copy of like, every picture taken over the past few years, and I cant stop stocking up on scrapbooky stuff from Michaels, so when I’m on maternity leave and cannot physically leave the house whenever I need to, I will have all the tools to work on this should I get a few minutes here and there.

What the hell’s the matter with me?

I’ve become so obsessed with taking pictures of EVERYTHING around the house, too, so much so that it’s become a running joke between Mikey and Mom. Whenever anything happens at all, they ask me if I’ve gotten it down for scrapbooking. So, people are noticing my obsessive compulsive problems. Hmmm. And here I thought I was being so cool about it…

Mikey has been kind enough, though, to turn a blind eye to the ever growing pile of scrapbook stuff in my “art studio” (read: the kitchen table, right in the freaken middle of everything.) I’ve slowly taken over the entire kitchen table, the top of Gunnar’s crate, a four drawer rollaway cart, and now certain kitchen chairs are designated to store things under the table. It’s taking over my life.

And I can’t stop!!

At least I know it’s a problem. The first step is denial, and I’m not denying I can’t quit scrapbooking. I’m such a nerd! If I’m like this BEFORE my daughter’s born, imagine what I’ll be like AFTER she’s born and I actually have somebody to take pictures of!

 

My mom tells me on the daily that once I have Avery, she’s taking me out to the backyard and kicking my ass. Duly noted.

My husband is secretly thanking his lucky stars that my mom moved in and is taking the brunt of my hormones, and he doesn’t have to deal directly with the Crazy.  Lucky him. I’d love to take a quick vacation from myself!

So I had my 37 week checkup last Wednesday. I go back for my 38th week tomorrow afternoon.

As I’ve said before, these checkups have been pretty uneventful, very quick, in and out visits. This past week I saw that sweet nurse practitioner, Amy, who’s super nice and also very pregnant, so it’s nice to have someone to relate.  

She felt around my tummy and told me that the baby’s head is now “engaged,” which basically means her head is now in the birth canal and I assume it means she’s not going to flip around anymore. I thought of it as a bullet waiting in a gun chamber, although let’s hope she won’t shoot out as fast. HA.

Everything else went very well. We went through the protocol as far as what I would need to do if I feel I’m going into labor. I would need to call up to the office and they’ll put a call into the hospital to let them know I’m coming. We discussed the probable signs of labor and I was instructed to call as soon as I see these signs.

 

Not too much longer now! I CANNOT BELIEVE THE END IS ALMOST HERE. Or should I say, the “beginning?” Yes, I think beginning is more appropriate!!

 

Now for the 37-38 week WTFs…

 

  • I’ve been having some more contractions, and they aren’t what you’d think. I always thought they’d be an actual “contracting” of my stomach muscles but I guess in the beginning they don’t necessarily have to be. Mine are coming in the form of crampy stomach pains and sharp twinges of “period” crampiness in my uterus. Also, of Avery moves a certain way, my stomach will tighten up and become instantly sore all over.
  • Sleeping has become more and more of a problem. Sheesh, don’t you think it would make more sense to get the best rest of your life right before you have a baby who will keep you up at all hours for months? You’d think Mother Nature would be kind enough to let you stock up on sleep since it becomes a rare and precious commodity after the baby is born. Nope. Not so.
  • I’ve begun to swell really bad, and retain a ton of water. Thankfully, this has only happened within the last week or so; I know some pregnant women have to deal with this as like, 5-6 months, so I’m grateful for that. But this recent gain of fluid has swelled everything so bad that even my flip-flops (the only shoes I’ve been able to wear) cut into my feet a little if I’ve been walking or standing for extended amounts of time. For instance, mom and I went to Target the other day and by the time we got home, my ankles were missing and my flip-flops wouldn’t fit me anymore. My feet were the feet of a 500 pound woman. BLECH. I spent the rest of the night propped up on pillows and whining about how I couldn’t do anything.
  • Nocturnal peeing has reared its stupid head again, only worse than ever before. I’m up every hour only to dribble out about an ounce and its back to bed.
  • My joints have become really sore. Not only the obvious ones like my ankles and knees and lower back, but even my fingers and wrists and elbows. It’s like, everything’s filled with fluid and is just sore for no reason.
  • Not only are my arms sore, but they numb up and fall asleep a lot, especially when I’m sleeping. I’ve woken up in the morning before, and had to use both hands and my face to shut the alarm off. Seriously?
  • Not that its starting to get really hot outside, I’m finding I’m sweating more than ever. Of course the heat’s not helping with the water retention and I’ve started to waddle a bit more. I’ve developed a taste for all things cold and sweet and I’m turning the air down more than ever at home. There’s too much of me!

 

The best news though, is I won’t have to seal with any of this too much longer. My “roommate” will get her eviction notice very soon, and I will finally have my body to myself again for a while. It’s going to be such a relief!!!

 

They’ll check my cervix fro effacement and dilation tomorrow afternoon for the first time. I’m SO anxious to see what they say. Stay tuned!

Duma Key by Stephen King

            This book took me FOREVER to read. AS much as I love Stephen King’s works, I have to say this one kind of disappointed me. It’s taken me so long to read it that I’m not even sure what went on. It couldn’t hold my attention at all.

            It was about a guy who was involved in a construction accident and as a result, lost an arm and sustained a traumatic brain injury. His life as he knew it is over; he loses his job, his wife, and decides to move to this remote island off the Florida Keys. There, he befriends this guy who lives up the beach who cares for this mysterious old woman. He also picks up painting, which he soon learns that he can paint things he doesn’t know anything about, like the future, or events happening elsewhere that he would have no way of knowing, etc.

Trust me, it sounds better than it actually was. He’s written much better stuff.

 

Wuthering Heights by Charlotte Bronte

            Another classic down. This one was actually very good, albeit dreary and depressing, of course. Most everyone knows the plot:

A man lives in a sprawling English mansion along the moors called, “Wuthering Heights.” He has two children, and brings home a third, an orphan named Heathcliff, who is unruly and morose. Catherine, the little girl, befriends him and they end up being sweethearts as they grow older. The family doesn’t accept this, and even Catherine has her hang-ups with it, so Heathcliff runs away, and returns years later a mysteriously rich man, and Catherine has already married the boy next door. Heathcliff views revenge on both families for not allowing the two lovers to be together.

            Heathcliff’s a tortured, miserable soul. They all are, in this book. It’s hard to find any redeeming qualities in any of the characters, really, but I think that’s why I liked it. It showed human nature at its rawest core, and what can happen to someone who’s scorned and devotes their life to making others as unhappy as they are.

            For my next classic read, I think I’ll try to find one a little more light-hearted on my list.

           

 

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by JK Rowling (Year 1)

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by JK Rowling (Year 2)

            I know, I know. I’m WAY behind the times. I’ve never seen a Harry Potter movie and I hadn’t ever read a book until now. The only reason I became intrigued was because out of all my friends who’ve read both Twilight and Harry Potter, most actually prefer the Harry Potter series. As much as I loved Twilight, I had to get into Harry Potter to see what the hype’s all about.

            So far, I wouldn’t say I prefer the HP series over Twilight, but it’s actually really good. It reminds me a lot of Roald Dahl’s style of writing (remember James and the Giant Peach?) or maybe a nod towards Lewis Carroll or Shel Silverstein. I’m enjoying them so far. I’m halfway through the third, now, and trying to find the movies on TV to watch. Better late than never, right?

 

Confessions of a Shopaholic by Sophie Kinsella

            Again, kinda behind the times on this one, too, but this book was fantastic. It was like reading a third party chronicling the aspects of my life. Seriously, I could relate to everything the narrator went through. I totally understand the justification for buying something you don’t need, just because you might have seen it in your favorite magazine on a celebrity you like, PLUS it’s on sale. You obsess over it; you must have it, regardless of the price, right??

            I haven’t seen the movie yet, but I’m going to have to see it soon. I plan on reading the others in this series, as funny as this was.

           

Beach Road by James Patterson

            Another book that couldn’t hold my attention to save my life. I usually love his stuff, and ive heard fantastic things about this book from several friends, but for some reason I just couldn’t stay with it. In fact I don’t even feel like talking about it, it was so bad.

I cannot believe it’s already been two years. The time has just flown by.

marriedboosYesterday was officially two years since Mikey and I said “I do,” and exactly six years to the day of our first date. Before I met Mikey, I hadn’t dated anyone for longer than about a year and a half, and after six years I love him even more than the first time I said it.

 

            We went all out last year to commemorate our first anniversary. We drove to Wilmington for the weekend and stayed the first night at the Blockade Runner, a really nice hotel on Wrightsville Beach. It was an amazing night. We drove to the Oceanic and had a romantic dinner overlooking the coastline and had several drinks. We ended the night with a moonlit walk, laughing together and having a blast. Then we went back up to our room, which was gorgeous and decorated all in white, and had a kind of balcony and this huge king size canopy bed.

            The next day we had plans to stay the night at this beautiful historic bed and breakfast in downtown Wilmington.  We spent the day on the beach. We ended up getting MASSIVELY burnt. I mean, neither of us can remember a time when we hurt so bad from a day in the sun. Imagine trying to enjoy a romantic night in a fancy bed and breakfast and hurting so bad. Both of us spent the night whining, slathered in aloe gel and trying not to move. You can imagine nothing romantic happened that night. We still laugh about it.

 

This year, we decided to go a little more low-key. We figured that our real anniversary present will be delivered really  soon, within the next couple of weeks, packaged cozily in pink blankets, complete with tiny fingers and toes. J

We celebrated this past Saturday by dressing up a little bit and doing dinner and a movie. We saw the new Terminator movie (Awesome.) and had dinner at an Italian restaurant.

I received a bouquet of flowers yesterday at work, which made my day. The card read simply, “You are living proof that dreams come true.” Mikey picked a bouquet of purple and lavender wildflowers, which is so appropriate since Avery’s room is done in shades of purple.

 

Every day that goes by I’m more and more in love with him, more and more completely convinced I made the right choice two years ago. I’m truly blessed to share this crazy, wonderful life with such a wonderful person.

 

I love you Boo!!!! Happy 2 Year anniversary!!!

The Safe Saga

My husband, as a child, he dressed in black and had an arsenal of fake guns and artillery and other various weapons and would imagine himself to be a Caucasian Jackie Chan.

            My husband is a closet ninja. So it was only a matter of time before he’d want to keep his “ninja” stuff in our bedroom closet, naturally.

 

            His parents had bought a new safe for their bedroom and had promised Mikey the old one about a year ago. I kept telling myself that we will discuss the safe and where it will go, etc, once we’ve gotten it. We had a couple conversations regarding options as to where to put this gargantuan safe once we got it, but I kept thinking we’d cross that bridge when we came to it. (Read: I was hoping we wouldn’t ever come to it.)

 

            A couple weeks ago, the safe was finally refurbished and ready to come to its new home. I began to panic.

You see, this isn’t your typical safe. We have a safe already. It’s a little gray box, about the size of a large briefcase, which holds our irreplaceable documents and is virtually unbreakable, fire-proof, and all that. What else do you need?

            This new safe could do double duty as a fall-out shelter for the four of us-and my mom-in the event of nuclear attack.

            And Mikey’s first choice for pride of place?

In the back of our bedroom closet. Where an entire rack of clothes lives – dresses, fitted blazers, and all my cute thin jackets and sweaters. And two full racks of pumps in every color reside on the floor.

 

What’s a girl to do??? This safe is five feet tall and like, three feet wide and, just, massive. Massively, unnecessarily extravagantly HUGE. And now, it’s threatening to take over a large chunk of precious closet real estate.

 

Of course, the placement of the safe resulted in several more “discussions,” the next one more heated than the last, and became less about the actual safe and more about  calling me out on slowly taking over the closet myself, bit by bit over the last three years. Mikey’s argument was that he was only taking back a little bit of space that was rightfully his anyway, since I dominate about 70% of the closet.

My argument is that girls NEED more stuff! Don’t we?!? More clothes, purses, shoes, everything! It’s a solid platform! And fashion always comes back around, so you never want to get rid of too much. Besides, everything is VERY organized and put in its place. And where to put all my stuff now??

 

Whatever.

To make a long story short, Mikey artfully chose the perfect time to get the safe in, when we had family and friend over for dinner, so the guys could “help him maneuver the safe.” It came in by way of garage door. Scores of hangers came off the back rack and in went this colossal refrigerator-size thing. I went back to check things out, and it was even BIGGER than I could’ve even guessed. It’s much deeper than I originally thought, and wider to boot. PLUS it’s got this gigantic bright gold turney thingy on the very front which reminds me of a cruise ship for some reason. Or maybe, like the vaults you see in casinos in movies.

Seriously?

 

I waited until after our guests left and just lambasted him. No WAY can the three of us live in this bedroom like this. It resulted in a typical overly emotional breakdown from yours truly, and a total flip-out from Mikey. He moved it against another wall and clothes and hangers went everywhere in the process. I slept for a few hours on the couch because I refused to sleep in there with that stupid thing. I was so pissed.

 

The next day, I had some time to calm down about it. I went back in there to check it out.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad. We talked it through again, and he said that he would move it anywhere I wanted him to, because he didn’t like to see me upset. I told him no, he can move it back to where it was, in the back of the closet. Any other way he positioned it he wouldn’t be able to get inside with all the clothes in the way. I let him know he could do what he wanted.

 

Well, you would’ve thought I brought the moon home to him, he was so incredibly happy. He moved that safe back into place and arranged and rearranged all our stuff in there. He opened the door and shut it and opened it again. He’s still like a little kid at Christmas. And honestly? To me, that was more important. Seeing how excited he got over this safe kinda outshined my need for extra closet space. Plus, once we moved the clothes back in there, it’s not TOO terribly bad…maybe I can buy some magnetic hooks to hang some stuff on it or something.

 

Moral of the story: I really think I’m maturing. I’ve learned to choose my battles. There’ll be plenty to win down the road.

And if Mikey ever questions my love for him, or gives me grief about something, all I need to do is point in the direction of the hideous giant safe in our closet. Because having to look at this thing everyday while my stuff is crammed around it, is freaken true love, my friends.

safe

10. Have a brand new, cuddly, beautiful little girl to care for.

 

9. Have Regis and Kelly and Rachael Ray shows on in the mornings. I DVR these, but it’s so hard to find the time to watch them. It’ll be nice to have them on in the background.

 

8. Have labor and delivery and the whole hospital visit over with. Amen.

 

7. Get on my treadmill again – this past month I’ve only had to look at it to make me want a nap. (Note: This category also includes: getting in and out of the car more easily, being able to walk to the car without breaking a sweat, and unloading the dishwasher without having to take a break in the middle of the job.)

 

6. Enjoy the weather for once. I work in a windowless cubicle in a windowless building. I wouldn’t know if it was sunny, cloudy, or blizzarding outside. I look forward to feeling the sun more on my face.

 

5. Spend a little more time with Gunnar! I know it will be a nice break for him, not to have to be crated during the day for a while. And I’m excited to watch as he gets to know his baby sister. I know he will love her.

 

4. Take a break from the monotony of this freaken workplace. It’s all I can do to stay focused and conscious in here these days. I need a change of scenery for a little while!

 

3. Catch up a bit on my reading. I know it won’t be much, but it’ll still be nice to have the extra few minutes here and there. Same thing with scrapbooking. A few minutes to regroup every once in a while will feel great.

 

2.  Sleep on my stomach again!!! This is SO underrated. I also miss sleeping for long periods on my back, too.

 

 And finally…

 

 1. Have a brand new, cuddly, beautiful little girl to care for. I can’t remember if I said it! I can’t wait! 

To preface, two things that SUCK right now:

  1. My clumsiness
  2. My tendency to burst into tears without reason.

 

I tell you these things, because both symptoms came into play yesterday evening when I had a harrowing and traumatic ordeal at the gas station.

 

Mikey and I decided to walk Gunnar, like we do any other ordinary night. We needed milk, and I really wanted cereal (Baby still likes those Lucky Charms!) so we would take a different route and walk to the gas station/convenience store up the street. The plan was for Mikey to hold Gunnar outside the store and I would run in and pick up the items, and we’d walk back.

Sounds totally normal right?

So we grabbed a little cash, and I put it in my pocket, and we set off. We got to the store and I went in. There were about twelve people in line already as I headed toward the cereal.

Of course, they had everything but Lucky Charms. Oh, well. As I’m looking for a second choice, I notice two snotty girls are in line, staring at me and whispering to each other.

This isn’t the first time I’ve noticed this. I mean, WTF? Haven’t you ever seen a pregnant girl before? Get a freaken grip. Seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever been stared at so much. You’d think I’m wearing a giant Las Vegas headdress and sequins, everywhere I go. I hate it.

Anyway, whatever. I shot the snotbags an equally snotty, take-a-picture-cause-they-last-longer look, grabbed some Frosted Flakes, and headed toward the milk. I noticed they only had gallons, so I was thinking about the long walk home with a gallon full of milk as I opened the cooler door to select a two-percent.

There was a dispenser for string cheese suction-cupped to the back of the cooler door, and as I opened the door, it came flying off, clattering loudly to the floor, spilling string cheeses everywhere. I look up and every person in the store, including the cashier, is staring at me.

I try to laugh it off by saying, “sorry, that was just me breaking stuff, don’t mind me.” I could already feel my cheeks growing hot with embarrassment as I picked up the empty dispenser, put it on the endcap, and proceeded to play 52-cheese pickup.

 

I’ve already said that there were about twelve people standing in line, probably more at this point.

NO ONE offered to help me.

I got on my hands and knees, since I can barely bend at the waist these days, and would pick up as many cheeses as I could, and would stand up and fill the dispenser, and then get back on all fours again. Out of the corners of my eyes I could see people looking at me as I struggled to pick up the mess I made.

See, it’s about here that the NORMAL me would’ve spun around and said, what the eff is everyone’s problem? Do you want to help me or just stare some more?

The chubby, pregnant, overly emotional me just picked up cheese and blinked back self-conscious tears. It took me what seemed like forever.

Finally I finished and I left the cheese on the stupid endcap. Screw them; I shouldn’t have even bothered to pick them up at all.  

I got in line and tired to regroup with my stuff in my hand. I started to think about how I would feel so much better if I treated myself to a Nutty Buddy for my troubles.

 

I walked over to the ice cream cooler, selected an ice cream, and went back to stand in line. In the amount of time it took me to waddle over to the cooler and back, three more people were standing in line. Dammit.

I just knew that, by this point, Mikey and Gunnar were probably wondering if I’ve fallen into a black hole somewhere in the store.

 

I FINALLY made it to the counter after all the fiascos. I handed the cashier the milk and cereal, and asked him if I had enough to buy the Nutty Buddy. He gave me a stink look (only, like, the tenth since I stepped in the freaken door) and shook his head. I had to look at the register which indicated that I was 28 measly cents over what I had in my hand.

 

For some reason, this was the straw that broke the pregnant girl’s back. I handed him the Nutty Buddy and laughed it off, saying I didn’t need it anyway. I handed him my money and was able to stammer out, “I think I broke your cheesy hanger back there, you might want to fix it if you have time,” before I burst into tears.

I walked out and put my sunglasses on, trying not to completely lose it before I got to safety.

 

Mikey saw me at this point, and is COMPLETELY alarmed, asking me, what the hell happened in there? What took so freaken long? Why are you so upset? He looked as if he was going to go in himself and kick someone’s ass.

I can only eek out, “I’m fine. Let’s just keep walking.” By the time I get the whole story out, I’m bawling and laughing at the same time. What a crazy, crappy trip to the store.  

 

What happened to me? I’m an emotional basketcase! A clumsy spill in a public place and no money for ice cream is enough to send me into hysterics. It’s good I can still laugh at myself. I got home and recanted the story to my mom, and cried fresh tears all over again. SHEESH!

 

Mikey went out later and got me some ice cream, which made me feel MUCH better – he’s so good to me.

He also let me know that I have officially lost my privileges to go into a convenience store by myself and buy things until further notice. After this traumatic trip to the dang store, I’ll take it.

My Nanny Dog

Gunnar has been acting noticeably different lately, for the past maybe, week or two.

He seems to be more by my side than normal, lays on my feet or if I’m on the floor sitting, he will try to lay ON me, or at least leaning heavily against me.

If I’m in the bed, he’s laying with me, and if I get up to pee, he will follow me in and lay on the floor till I’m ready to go back to the bed.

 Other times, he will find his bone, and then come find me wherever I am in the house and lie against me and chew his bone on my leg.

 He’s clingier and more attention-seeking than normal with me, always needing to be near me and touch me, and have me love on him. It’s actually pretty funny, he’s not being aggressive, just super cuddly and overprotective of me, and has to be with me all the time.  A cuddly and sweet dog anyway, but noticeably more so lately, I decided to go online and see what was up.

 I found this article on www.dogs.about.com:

         Question: My dog is acting really weird and clingy. Is it because  I’m  pregnant?

         Answer: Nobody can really know what goes on in the minds of dogs, but I think it’s safe to say that yes, your dog does know there’s something different about you. He may not comprehend the nature of the change (or maybe he can), but because your body chemistry changes when you’re pregnant, it’s guaranteed he can smell the changes.

              Behavioral Changes (in your dog, not you):
Your dog might go through some personality shifts when you are expecting. It shouldn’t be alarming, but it could be noticeable. A normally aloof dog might suddenly become clingy and cuddly. Your usually cuddly dog might become more so, and fixated on your belly, nosing it, smelling it, and wanting to be on it. Which is fine if you have a small lap dog, another story altogether if your “lap” dog weighs almost as much as you do. A dog who is typically content to lie at your feet and watch as you wander around your home may suddenly decide you need to be escorted everywhere, even to the bathroom.

 

I found some more interesting information on www.i-love-dogs.com:

            Does My Dog Know I Am Pregnant?
 

 Dogs are connected to their people and their daily routines.  They know when they wake up, when and where they do certain chores, if it’s the weekend etc.  How?   Well, actually it’s quite simple…they are GREAT observers and creatures of habit. Dogs have such a keen sense of sight and smell that helps them to monitor life around them.  It is with this in mind that I believe dogs do notice the changes of pregnancy.   Pregnancy creates hormonal changes that affect the scent emotions and routines of their dedicated female human. 

       Some reported changes from “Moms to be” are:

                Over clinginess

                Protectiveness

                Excessive attention seeking

                Anxiety (pacing, licking etc)

 
 

Another thing he’s been doing is randomly insisting on having my undivided attention, for no reason.  He’ll come up to me and paw my leg a few times, or put his paw on me, and bark softly until I look at him. Then, he’ll look back at me and that’s it. He’s been fed, and outside, and everything. NO reason.  It’s been a little frustrating, considering I have NO clue what he freaken wants.

 

This article from www.pregnancy-info.net was interesting too:

 Dogs Behaving…Good?
Just how your dog will react to your pregnancy will vary according to your pet. Many women report that their
once husband-loving pet has now abandoned that man for her and her pregnant belly. Often becoming more clingy and protective, dogs have been known to stay directly beside mom’s side, even waiting outside the shut bathroom door or next to the tub while you bathe and sleeping beside your bed every night, for the full nine months.

Other dogs may be more vocal in their protection, barking or growling at anyone who approaches the pregnant woman, sometimes even physically blocking people from the mom-to-be. And if your dog starts to take more notice of your belly, nosing it, smelling it or even trying to sit on it, don’t be surprised. He knows that’s where the change is.

So, to all my friends with dogs out there looking to become pregnant someday, here’s a heads up at what else you may have to look forward to! It’s actually pretty nice; I have another built-in protector!

So, I’ve basically come to the conclusion that there isn’t any other way out of this. I will inevitably have to give birth to this little girl growing inside me. I cannot wish that unpleasant part away and I can’t pretend like it won’t happen. Because it will, whether I’m terrified or not.

The question at hand now is, should I or shouldn’t I opt for an epidural?

 

The teacher discussed this at our Preparing for Childbirth Class.

Going Under the Needle:

 

                The teacher broke the entire process down for us in class. In a nutshell, basically, you start off by asking for an epidural. It usually takes about 30 minutes or so to get the anesthesiologist down there to start an epidural for you if there isn’t one in your neck of the woods at that time.

Then, they come down with all the equipment. They start off by numbing the area where they will put the tube for the continuous dosage of medicine. The tube is approximately the size of a hollow spaghetti noodle, flexible, and fits into the epidural space in your back and is there for the duration of your labor. It is then taped over your shoulder and attached to the machine with the drugs.

 

PROS

  • You don’t feel most (if any) of your pain.
  • I’ve heard it can provide you with a calming sensation and better focus to push because you aren’t as focused on the pain.

 

CONS

  • It essentially paralyzes you from the chest down. Which means, I will not be able to significantly move my legs for the entirety of my labor and even possibly an hour or two afterward.
  • Contrary to what some people might think, it is NOT a one-time shot, but a continual dose of medicine in your back. I don’t know about you folks, but I’m not fond of the idea of a needle-type tube in my back for possibly hours. I don’t even like IVs.
  • Also, there’s a risk of injuring a vein in your spine by accident, which means blood comes back up the catheter tube. GROSS. And painful, because then they start over again at a second site.
  • There’s a chance (albeit SUPER small – Wikipedia says 1/100,000) that it could leave you permanently paralyzed.
  • It doesn’t necessarily get rid of ALL your pain. There are still “hot spots” meaning, nerve bundles which for whatever reason, have NOT been affected by the anesthetic.
  • I’ve heard with the epidural, the baby will be quite groggy and drugged up for the first few days of her life. I just don’t like the idea of that.
  • It may actually prolong labor, because you aren’t able to feel the pain which makes you want to push, so you aren’t actually making the most of your contractions, supposedly. Who wants a LONGER labor? Not me if I can help it!!

 

Feelin’ Like a Natural Woman:

               

PROS

  • The good news is, I like to think I have a pretty high tolerance for pain. I mean, I’ve led a pretty painless life, meaning, I’ve never broken a bone or slammed a hand in a door, but I’ve done some things that have HURT like hell before, like, hitting a finger with a hammer, or falling out of a tree swing, or riding my bike as fast as humanly possible down a hill and wiping out in the gravel. I’ve had teeth knocked out and my tonsils removed. And I give blood regularly, which isn’t comfortable. I know some people will laugh at me, but I think I’m equipped to handle serious pain.
  • My baby won’t be sleepy and groggy and drugged when she’s born.  Hence, I will be less nervous about her health.
  • Even though I’m aware there will be a world of pain, there’s kind of a reason for it, I like to think? it seems as though its there for you to know when to push and breathe, etc. Not sure why the amount of pain involved, but that’s going on my list of questions to ask my Maker someday.
  • I hear from LOTS of people who’ve done it naturally, that the pain is IMMEDIATELY erased as soon as the baby is out. It’s almost like a splinter in your finger, only on a MUCH larger scale. Once it’s out, the pains gone and you feel better.
  • You can get up and walk when its all over with.

 

CONS

  • IT WILL EFFING HURT. I’m pretty sure from the stories I’ve heard that it will be the most excruciating pain I will ever feel in my life.  Which is a GIGANTIC “con” in my book.
  • Not to mention incredibly scary.
  • Nuff said.

                                                                

The verdict (for now):

I’m thinking about opting out of the epidural and doing this the natural way if I can help it.

HOWEVER, we did learn of other pain medication alternatives to take the edge off if things get really bad, which I will totally take advantage of, should the need arise.

I’ve thought about it, and I just don’t think I like the idea of being unable to really move during the whole thing. Especially with it being my first time doing this. I’m the kind of person that if I’m in pain or discomfort, I need to get up and move around and regroup for a minute.  If I can’t do this, I think I might have the tendency to panic.

I don’t like the idea of not being in control of anything. I think what will help me get through this is the ability to be in control. If I’m able to fully utilize my contractions and breathe and push through the pain, why shouldn’t I try to do it as drug-free as possible? And how will I know if I’m capable of it unless I at least try?

Besides, women have been doing this since the dawn of time. Epidurals have only been around for, what, like 50 years, maybe? Thirty? My mom had four natural childbirths. My buddy Julie had a natural childbirth.  If they did it, there’s no reason why I can’t, too.   I CAN do this!!

PLUS – I am free to change my mind on the epidural if I absolutely feel I want to, right up until I’m like, 8 centimeters dilated. So that’s a good thing to keep in my back pocket, anyway.

What do you think? Any comments or personal stories? Did anyone think they made the right or wrong choice orwould do it differently for their next pregnancy? I’m anxious to know, so please comment! :)

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