I always do my best thinking at 3am!

As the time draws closer and closer for this new little one to be removed from my body, I am completely relieved that I will no longer pregnant. So many of the feelings from the baby dropping have been harder than I'd ever imagine and incredibly painful. As a woman who will never experience a natural birth, I am blown away by this small sample of what it might feel like.

So yes, I am completely looking forward to not being pregnant an ymore but just as worried about what will happen after. This pregnancy has been so different than my first. I don't have the same kind of excitement about it as I did before which leaves me feeling guilty. I can only hope that once I am holding this little one I will be as in love with it as I possibly can. My guess is that once again as I find myself in the middle of everything I will look back at this 3am bran fart and laugh at how silly I was to think these thoughts.

So it's back to bed, hoping that maybe I can get more than 2 hours in a row (lately the most sleep I get in one dose is 2.5 if I'm lucky) and not feel like absolute shit in the morning.

I stopped "should"-ing on myself and it feels great!

Yesterday I hit my wall. I spent my spare time working on a blazer made from sweatshirt fleece that I had wanted to get done (McCalls 5714) but it was turning out as if Sweet One had helped me with it. Since moving to this town I've lost my avenues of creative expression. Since it is hard to find time to get out of town for shopping when I need them, I've had high hopes that I could improve my sewing skills to enhance my wardrobe in a way that helps me express myself without breaking the bank. A double bonus would be the creativity it takes just to make the pieces. So far I have failed miserably. Last summer I made a shirt and a pair of shorts which are both unwearable. I really have no clue if this blazer is going to be salvageable. I was very upset by the time I was done sewing yesterday. I packed up my machine. Maybe I need a good book to teach me more about garment sewing. I know I need more time and patience with myself than I have.

I started feeling sick right around supper time last night. Funny that it should line up with hitting the wall! I had been feeling so stressed over the past few days worrying about what I wasn't getting done and how much time I wasn't focussing on Sweet One. All of this was simply not a good combination with less than two weeks before this baby is cut out of me.

I made a decision. Since I got all but the finishing done on the sweater last night, it was time to stop worrying. To give myself as much time to rest as I could and to enjoy the last few days I have with only one child. The house needs a bit more cleaning so that I can feel like I haven't left stupid things all over the place and other than that, I am not taking on anything else that isn't every day necessities. Yesterday around 6:30 I was crying on the couch, snuggling with Sweet One as she watched Super Why? on the computer. At the same time today I was lying on the floor playing with Sweet One. I laughed at how my brain had so much positive energy that I could go for a walk but the muscles in my back were screaming at me to just relax. Quite a difference and all because I decided to let go of a few "shouldas".

A fasting test took longer than expected

The sun is shining brilliantly. In all honestly, I can survive the frigid cold temperatures I grew up with in Northwestern Canada but I struggle with the mild, overcast winters that we have here. As long as there is sun I feel like I can deal with anything!

Sweet One is hopefully still napping, although I do hear some noise starting from movement, and Big Love is passed out on the couch. I had my nap but put an alarm on so I don't sleep too long otherwise I won't fall asleep at night.

Big Love had a bit of a long morning with Sweet One because I had to go and get the longer glucose tolerance test. With fasting the night before, I had to be at the hospital and registered just before 730! Quite a feat when I consider the fact that I am rarely out of bed by 8 or 830 from my interrupted night hours. Luckily, Sweet One never woke up enough for me to have to get out of bed (yay!) last night and so at 615 she and I got up. Big Love tried to sleep longer but he couldn't because he is just too used to getting up with her these days.

The test was a little brutal. My numbers weren't where they needed to be at the beginning so they had to do another step before I could even have the lovely orange drink which added an hour to the whole process bringing the total to 4 hours in a little lab in the basement of a hospital. I was somewhat shaky as I sat there and ate my snack after it was all done and chugged back some water. Making my way from the basement to the doors was a little strange because I felt like I was trying to wake up but couldn't fully. I arrived in the morning while it was still dark and was happy to see that the sun was shining.

I think we're going to go for a mini-vacation and do some errands in the neighboring city just north of us. A few really simple things we need but unfortunately cannot get here in this town.

A few cute moments make the hard ones worth it

Sweet One has been a little clingy lately. She goes through phases in the day when she wants to be attached to me or I am the only person allowed to do anything for her because Daddy just doesn't cut it! It's a little exhausting especially when she's had another two 5:30am mornings with me on the hardwood floor for one of them trying to get her to go back to sleep. Isn't it two weeks after the time change and still no major adjustment for her! With the last two canines making their way through her gums, a nose that won't stop running and these early mornings I have a toddler who is doing her best to be happy (happidy, happidy) when she can. I'm also starting to feel some of the muscular fatigue of a belly that is pulling my back in directions it doesn't usually go. Each day I am more and more thankful for the moments of sheer adorable toddlerhood that keep me going and help me make it through the next time she has a mood swing.

Moment One

Do you want some blueberries*?

Yes!

Can you say please?

Yes. (In a tone that completely says, 'yes, you know I can'.)

Say please.

Pease.

*You can substitute blueberries for anything a toddler might ask for.

Moment Two

(Arms outstretched.) Hai. Hai!

You want a hug?

Hai!

And this can happen anywhere - in her booster seat, in the car seat, in a cart in the middle of a store, on the couch, blah blah - anywhere at all!

Moment Three

Uppity! Uppity!

You want to come up? Just a moment, Mama's got raw chicken* all over her hands.

UPPITY! UPPITY!

*Once again, substitute for pretty much anything I could be in the middle of. But it's probably not the begging to be lifted up as much as the word she uses that makes this moment cute to me.

Sweet Relief

I had an appointment with my new OB and all I can say was that by the time I was done talking to her nurse before the doctor even came in, so much of the stress from the last two months had quickly dissipated!

The nurse first said to me, What did the other doctor tell you about VBACs? and the look on her face made me realize that all my concerns about having a VBAC at this hospital IF it becomes allowed were completely warranted. At this point, the hospital is not allowed to do them because they do not have anesthesiologists in house, they are on call. That means that if someone suddenly ruptures, they may not get the pain management they need for an emergency c-section in time. Also, VBACs require special expertise and since this hospital has not done them for a very long time, they do not have the experience necessary.

Then the doctor came in and we talked more. I thanked her for taking me on and her reaction was so much more relaxed than the women I spoke to to get switched in the first place. You gave it a try and it wasn't for you, that's just fine. So, they are working on booking my c-section early so that they can try to get one of the first surgery slots of the day and we were allowed some input into when it happened. We chose the day so that Big Love can have his choir rehearsal the night before - being close to Easter with a choir that needs much prep and all!

***

I have completely lost where I was with all this. Sweet One had two friends over while their mom was at an appointment and then I had them for lunch. In the past hour and a bit I feel like a tornado has hit me! Luckily, dishes are done and the living room is tidied. Now I will hope Sweet One naps so I can relax a bit.

A final thought on my OB. I feel so relieved that this one and her staff seem to be of a similar wavelength as the one I loved so much and I am feeling much better about the next half of my pregnancy.

Small town, smaller options

It has been awhile since I have felt bitterness at living in a small town. The resentment and anger I had been feeling for a good portion of my time here wasn't doing me any favors and I decided that a change was in order. I found reasons to be happy - the low standard of living enabling us to own our house and for me to be at home with Sweet One was a big one.

Today I was reminded of what can be lacking when living in a small town. Choices. And not just choices in terms of stores, restaurants and concerts. Today I was shown that there are limitations to my health care. I made the decision to pick up the phone and ask to be moved to a new OB. After my previous one went on medical leave (I adored her and would trust her with my life to this day) and I got put with a doctor I didn't feel comfortable with, I spent much time trying to see if I was going to be ok. But I just don't. A male doctor of similar age to my father, whose emotional and physical abuse has left me with many wounds that I am still trying to heal, leaves me feeling uncomfortable. I have plead my case in the most gracious and level-headed way I know how with a receptionist and the office manager but I do not know if they are going to move me. While they argue that there is a 50% chance a male doctor will deliver my child, I argue that it is not just the delivery that I am uncomfortable with but the consultations leading up to delivery and after. I simply do not feel comfortable in the care of a man who is from the same generation who spent so much time making me feel horrible about my abilities, choices and who I am.

This is the only OB clinic in town. I can not go to a nearby city because at the time of delivery I believe that it would be too hard on Big Love and Sweet One. Added stresses of travel at a time of year when weather isn't the greatest is not something I want to put them through.

I may also have the decision of whether or not to VBAC and this is also a bit disconcerting. Up until a month and a half ago I had been told that they do not happen in the local hospital and that I would be delivery via c-section again. But now they may be implementing protocol to encourage VBACs. Do I want to choose this with a doctor that I am not familiar with and be one of the first people in this area to attempt the VBAC? While the doctors are capable they are obviously inexperienced in this area since their policy has been against these types of deliveries.

More doctors with more opinions to help me make the choices I need to make. That is what I desperately wish I had right now.

I'm happy to say that I got a phone call the next morning with the news that one of the female doctors will be taking me on as her patient!

Too many surprises in one day

I had an OB appointment today and for the past month I've been worrying about it because my previous experience with the new doctor was quite negative. I was nervous as we waited for him to come in because I was worried about having one appointment with him and then having to go out and fight for my right to have a doctor I was comfortable with. Little did I know that he was going to pull the rug right out from under my toes. Even Big Love was shocked. The doctor I saw today was completely unlike the doctor I had met once during my previous pregnancy and twice in the hospital. He was kind, personable and genuinely interested in getting to know us a bit in the short time allotted for these appointments. On top of it, he mentioned that should my placenta cooperate this time, protocol may be in place for me to have a VBAC if I so choose.

By the time I was about to leave this appointment I was nearly in tears, partially due to Sweet One being awake for 2 hours last night, because nothing in that appointment was what I expected. I had a doctor who I could possibly be ok with and the potential for a whole new way of thinking about giving birth this time. I can honestly say that I am still very sad about my previous doctor going on medical leave because I adored her and in my eyes no one will ever be as good as her.

I have so much to think about. It is insane how different my new doctor was at this appointment. In two weeks we'll have our ultrasound and see what the placenta is doing and then I can start to think about what I'd like to do delivery-wise. Although, I'm not sure I'd like to be one of the first people to have a VBAC at this hospital. Right now, I just need to go and watch some Parenthood and relax, turn off my brain and pray that Sweet One sleeps through the night. On top of all this, she has her first ever cold.

Doctor Dilemma

My previous pregnancy was full of anxiety, especially in the third trimester, because I had placenta previa. In the end, I couldn't have found myself a more capable, compassionate OB to take care of me and my baby in the situation. Luckily, I was able to carry Sweet One the full 39 weeks which is designated (at least here, I have no idea about anywhere else) for a scheduled C-section.

The first appointment we had with this pregnancy, my OB told us how excited she was to see our name on her list of new pregnancies. It made me feel even happier that she was our doctor but unfortunately, I had no idea that she is ill. At our second appointment I ended up seeing a different doctor without any warning and later that afternoon I learned from my neighbors that my OB was ill. I left that conversation with a feeling that she would not be able to deliver this baby.

Monday afternoon I was outside with Sweet One and at 5:15 Big Love told me I had a phone call from the OB office that I had to return. Unfortunately he told me too late to call that day and so I spent the night with a strong feeling that my doctor would no longer be my doctor and that they stuck with me the only doctor in the office who I felt very uncomfortable with. My fears were confirmed the next morning. I immediately pleaded with the woman on the phone to not leave me with him but at this point she has asked me to see how I feel after my first appointment with him. I agreed.

Just when I finally stopped worrying about our green card, I get to worry about this now. I have spent the last two days trying to figure out a way to advocate for myself that is firm, gracious and successful in convincing whoever I need to that I do not in any way feel comfortable with this doctor. I do not know exactly what it is. When I met him with my first pregnancy I just had a feeling that I was so relieved he wasn't my doctor and then when he had to fill in for my OB and check on me after my C-section, I again was rubbed the wrong way. It may be a lack of bedside manner or the fact that he is male, perhaps even both, but I do not want to have him examine me at all. Nor do I want to be pretty much naked, paralyzed on an operating table with him cutting me open.

Will this office not give me an option and force me to stay with this doctor? I do not know. I guess I'm a little ignorant on what is considered acceptable in this situation. I fully understand that this is not the easiest situation to deal with for the office as much as myself but I desperately hope they will have a fraction of the compassion my previous OB had and let me have another doctor. What is consider acceptable/medically ethical in this situation?

A completely different experience the second time

It is currently 84 degrees today and fairly comfortable here on my porch sucking back as much water as I can to try and appease this unquenchable thirst. I love my covered porch although I don't spend a whole lot of time on it because Sweet One would much rather be roaming the neighborhood, stalking the cats or hanging out in front of our neighbor's house as if we're using her as an excuse to spy on them. I've started feeling quite uncomfortable standing in front of the neighbor's houses and so that is one reason why Big Love is out somewhere along this street with her right now.

The past two and a half weeks have been quite difficult for me. At 8 weeks pregnant, I am constantly nauseous with only a few hours respite in the afternoon. I desperately wish I could just be sick to make it feel better but it doesn't happen. I never felt like this with Sweet One. The only complaint I had after the first trimester was over with her was how tired I was and I knew I was lucky. Add the nausea and my nights already being interrupted three or four times and I feel like I'm barely holding on.

Last night at 11:08 I walked downstairs and did my prenatal yoga workout for the first time since the stick said yes. At one point I cried from the realization that I had yet to be purely excited about this little one growing inside of me. Completely planned and anticipated, I've been caught off guard by how hard it is to take care of myself and Sweet One at the same time. I am constantly in awe of women who do this time and time again because I know that I could not. I instinctively know that two will be enough for me and I am crossing my fingers that there is only one heartbeat at my next appointment! And I also know just how fortunate I am to have gotten to this point.

Thank God! for Big Love. He is stepping up in ways I always knew he would but am still so grateful for. He continues to wake up with Sweet One without complaint as her mornings have been earlier than we're accustomed to over the past week. In the hour and a half it takes me to be functional in the morning he continues to offer to make me breakfast, gets Sweet One dressed and himself ready for work. By the time I'm finally ready and about to walk him to work, it is probably a little later than he'd like but still absolutely no complaint. When he gets home from work he often takes back over the care of Sweet One and plays with her while as I drag myself between a few tasks hoping to feel the slightest sense of usefulness. The day finishes with supper, dishes (which Big Love always does), bath and bedtime. After this is done I usually flop onto the couch and lie there until it is bedtime for me knowing that I only survived the day because of how amazing this man is that I married.

I'm looking forward to the first signs of life in this belly of mine. The first bubbly feelings that evidence there is really a little one growing inside of me rather than some other condition that is robbing me of my energy right now. Until then, I'm trying to enjoy when I am feeling ok and give Sweet One as much good energy as I can possibly muster without beating myself up when I feel like I fail.

On a slightly funnier note, when we were at a crosswalk in Montreal a woman was admiring Sweet One and after a few words said to me, "and you're having another one" while she looked at my belly. This to me was a little victory because I've always made jokes at how my 'pooch' never really went away and while at 5 weeks my belly hadn't yet changed, it still looked like a pregnant belly to a stranger!