So, on the subject of moving Hola in Rt’s room, we’ve decided to get rid of hubs’ office, for the time being, and put Hola in his own room.
The baby will take over Hola’s spot in the nursery and Hola will have a new room across the hall, closer to the rest of the house.
The reason for both of these moves is this.
HOLA IS TOO YOUNG.
Wait, it’s not just his age, but his ability to want to “play” with Rt when it’s time for bed. We did a trial run, and to be honest, it wasn’t much of one and it went relatively well. We put them together in Hola’s room, moving Rt’s mattress onto the floor and putting them down at the same time. (Figured we’d keep younger child in more familiar surroundings at first.)
I asked several people on Twitter what their experiences were with merging their kids into the same room. (Thank you for your emails.) They were quite helpful and I’m way envious you guys stuck it out and now seem to not have many issues.
It’s just that hubs and I both spent time in the room trying to keep Hola quiet while Rt was trying to fall asleep. He was READY to go to bed, but Hola usually takes his time winding down considering he’s already had a nap earlier in the day. I would probably think it’d be different if we had bunk beds and Rt was up on top and Hola down below, but then you add another element of Hola wanting to climb up top, etc. Always something….
I was irritated the first night (I was back in the room), hubs was irritated the next (his turn.) We were ready to be done with the nights when we put them down in the first place. (not logical one bit.) I currently don’t have the ability to “Work through it” being 31 weeks pg. I don’t want to, really. It comes down to that. There is SO much that’s about to happen that will shake things up around here, I can already feel it. Adding this LARGE layer to it makes me anxious just picturing it.
I had a discussion with LvGurl about maybe Hola using the office room, but just for 6 months until he heads off to preschool in the Fall. That way, he’s more on the same schedule as Rt and will be closer to wanting to go to bed when bedtime comes. Plus, he’ll be 6 months older. Hell, the BABY will be 6 months older. What a difference we’ll all be at that point.
I went to hubs with my “plan” knowing it wouldn’t be easy for him to let go of his “man cave.” It’s actually not a man cave, but was his actual office for the first 3 years we lived here while he worked from home. It still holds music gear, a piano and a large “L” shaped desk. There will definitely be some manuevering going on. And it won’t be pretty. (Where in the hell will the piano go? And who’s going to play with it when there not supposed to if we bring it out of the once locked office?)
Luckily, I have my dresser from when I was little we are currently not using and now Hola has his big boy bed. We’re set in that department. The baby has everything he’ll need with regards to furniture and a crib, so no big purchases left for us. I would KILL to paint the office before we move him over, but we’ll see what time and effort we’ll have once the office is actually cleared out.
Until then, we’ve got a day sleeper in his big boy bed and a night sleeper in his “what he knows” toddler bed.
I guess one hurdle at a time.
(And don’t think I won’t be scouring Craigslist all summer looking for a Pottery Barn-type bunk bed and actually follow through on this future merge.)
Well, it’s not 30 weeks anymore and it’s not yet 32. I’m off on my schedule, but that’s just how it goes around here. Currently, I am watching 3 kids under 4 go nuts with some Fisher Price Stand and Play toy while watching Curious George movie, so I do what I can when I can. (Aren’t I a great babysitter?)
I’m feeling pretty good these days. It does take me awhile to get up off the couch to get to the phone in time, but overall, I can’t really complain much. I dusted off my prenatal yoga dvd last night and went to town while hubs took the boys to the gym. Man, nothing like stretching with an additional 22 lbs on you. Working around a loaded ass is not my idea of fun. But, I did feel great after wards and slept like a rock. Now, if I can only do it again while the kids are down for their nap and such. Otherwise, I’ve got some really excited boys who want to meditate on my purple mat.
In other news, we decided to give Hola his own room for the time being. (S C O R E.) More on that tomorrow.
(Must get back to the three stooges now.)
I’ve been reading through old posts of mine that I wrote when I was pregnant with Hola. (Basically, exactly 3 years ago.)
At 27 weeks pg, I wrote about all of the current “issues” I was dealing with while with child. Thought I’d compare these thoughts with the ones I’ve had during this time around.
“currently 27 weeks pregnant. here are the latest discoveries I have found with my body:
-not that I normally shaved my legs on a timely bases, but due to the slow growth of my leg-hair, I might be able to get away with shaving only on major holidays. total score for me and my razor.
DITTO: I think my hair is growing even slower. I think I shaved a couple of weeks ago, maybe?, and I barely feel a stubble.
-the weight in my boobs continues to amaze me. how heavy can one bosom get? or both for that matter. You think my push-up bra is overdoing it just a little? hey, I’ll take perky and overflowing any day.
YEP: I tend to wonder why these puppies get so big when they don’t produce squat. Oh well, I’ll take the overflowing cleavage while it lasts…Although I can say, I CANNOT walk around without a bra for more than a minute after a shower. Boobs resting on my belly gives me the HEE BEE GEE BEE CREEPS.
-the skin tag on my neck that appeared within days of becoming pregnant is still holding steady. Can wait for that bugger to fall off come April. Could I be so lucky?
I think I had to have that one removed, if I recall. I got another one before I was pregnant last summer near my bodacious cleavage. Can’t wait to have that one disappear within minutes of delivery. BUGGAH. (No new ones, as of yet. Let’s hope it stays that way.)
-the veins on my body have always been somewhat evident due to my see-through skin, but this is getting ridiculous. You could find your way to the nearest Krispy Kreme by using my belly as a road map. Wait, our Krispy Kreme’s went out of business here, but you get the point…
Ya, veins, veins, everywhere there’s veins. They mostly come out to play after a hot shower. All that blood rising to the surface. It’s so cool to be fair skinned!
-my bellybutton has chosen to stall halfway through popping out. only one side has graced myself with it’s presence. classic look. I think I am starting a new trend.
Depending on how I am sitting, if I am standing, I’d say it’s halfway out again. At times, I see the entire thing completely flattened out. So perdy.
-my only ability to grab something off the floor is to bend down in the ballerina plea position. Bending over is not longer a comfortable option nor flattering to the one standing behind.
Yep, been wearing my imaginary tu-tu for quite awhile. I can’t even sit at the couch and eat my dinner off the ottoman. I can’t bend anymore. Not very bendy. Bend-less. Lacking bend.
-the air inside my body that only shows itself in the middle of the night. I make my one/two trips to the potty and the first thing my body shares with me is air. I have officially lost control here.”
Not much air in the middle of night these days. I think I make up for it at other moments during daylight. I am not enjoying this new discovery much. Good times.
Let’s see, what else?
Ya, this whole hoo haw throbbing thing is WAY new and such a bother. Haven’t busted out the ice pack in awhile, but I am not afraid to use it if things get worse. Can’t wait!
One difference this time around is I haven’t had to buy an inflatable tush cushion donut thingy. It seems that this week 3 years ago I had already purchased mine to be able to sit through a Mom’s meeting in those metal chairs. So far, my ass can handle sitting for that long without some extra help.
Will try to post a 30 week belly shot tomorrow. Thinking I will do one every 2 weeks now, than just once a month. This belly is starting to pick up the pace and I don’t want to miss out since this is the last time. Man, that sounds weird….
3 months to go
3rd glucose test PASSED
3rd Rhogam Shot received
3rd time I have gained 6 lbs. during this 4 week time frame.
Next week I’ve got my ultrasound at the perinatologist to see if my placenta has moved away from the lip of my cervix. Send “move your ass out of the exit door, placenta” vibes this way!!
Also, let’s hope “I’m sure he hasn’t turned yet” baby is facing another position besides UPRIGHT. Those two things would be IDEAL. (Otherwise, if this keeps up, I’ll be looking into having this babe turned around at 37 weeks. ouch.)
And now we have come to the conclusion of this experiment.
I had everywhere to be and luckily had one last day of my hair run to work with. I spent most of my morning at the blood lab donating 3 tubes of blood and drinking 50 grams of sugar posed as a Sunkist drink. I didn’t mind the 1-hour wait time considering I was by myself, but I knew I was paying $8 an hour for Hola to be watched at Kids’ Park. (I guess I wasn’t too concerned since I made a quick trip into Target on my way to pick him up. Priorities!)
I was amused by the plethora of pregnant ladies in the waiting room with me. I counted a total of 5. Well, the 5 of us and every older person known to man having blood drawn as if it was a weekly visit. The techs knew a lot of these people by name. I can’t imagine what the reasonings were, but I bet they mostly weren’t for good measure.
I sit here writing this with complete and dirty hair. (Another ponytail, of course.) I am watching Hola and two other little ones while my dear friend is voluteering at school and spending a little time by herself until Kindergarten pick up. My turn is on Thursday, so I enjoy putting in my time. My hair? Is not happy with this setup. It’s ready to be given some attention.
I actually went to bed last night and my hair hurt. You know, when you take a ponytail out and the slightest movement sends your head into a tizzy? No? Well, I guess that’s what I get for not washing my hair.
If I wasn’t doing this experiment, I would have washed my hair on Sunday, day 4, while hubs was home and I had an hour to spare. I will have to make a decent attempt this afternoon after nap time. Snacks and a good program/Wii time should be just the right amount allotted to focus on me.
Next up, a powerful and meaningful story on my never-growing leg hair. Pictures included!
I kid, I kid.
I guess I should get to my 26 week belly shot. Well, now that I’m 27 weeks and change, I might as well wait till 28, huh? Until then, here’s a picture of my belly I took last night while watching the Orange Bowl.
So today marks 24 weeks, or 6 months. One word sums up how I feel about this,
While that seems like a whole hell of a lot of time, on a deeper level, I am somewhat relieved we have made it this far. Anytime you experience a miscarriage of any sort, you thank your lucky stars by reaching shorter goals than just the end result of 40 weeks.
Seeing a heartbeat at 6 weeks was a big deal after our experience in April/May.
Hitting 12 weeks after having a D and C at 10 weeks was a huge weight lifted off my shoulders.
Seeing a baby moving at our 19 week gender/measure body parts U/S was HUGE. (Deep down, I never knew if everything was still going as planned. There’s always that doubt.)
And now, here we are at 24 weeks.
And I am relieved. By a lot of accounts, a baby can survive outside the womb at 24 weeks. By no means is it a picnic, not at all, but there is something about knowing each and every day I get past today is another day bettering my kid’s chances of survival.
I guess it all goes back to what happened to my brother and sister-in-law three years ago.
It was late Winter and hubs and I were down at his brother’s place for the weekend. The first thing he asked when we walked in the door was if I wanted a drink. (being a good social host, of course!) I told him I was “OK for now”, but thanks anyway. And then and there, he said, “what, are you pregnant?” I was in shock. Um…..uhhhhh….Then he said, “Cause we are.”
What? Both of us pregnant at the same time? Due within a week of each other? Awe, we couldn’t have written a better story. What fun they’ll have! All the what-will-bes and such. It was a great weekend spent hashing on good times to come.
But, those times never came.
A few weeks later I started bleeding. And within a week, ours was gone.
Not only did we lose our baby, we had a close reminder of when our child was supposed to be due, how old they would be at certain holidays etc. It wasn’t anything anyone could help. It was just something we’d have to get used to, get over and be ok with. Period.
But, even that experience was never meant to be either.
At 21/22 weeks, my sister-in-law began leaking fluid. There was no definite rhyme or reason why it was happening, it just was. Her doctors told her she had to remain on bed rest and hope the leaking would stop. Her best case was to have the leaking subside until she turned 24 weeks, then they would deliver the baby.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be. The leaking never stopped and the environment the baby was living in wasn’t holding up. They lost him. It was her first. And they were devastated.
How could that be? Both of us, on completely different extremes, lost our December babies.
Of course, since then, both of us have gone on to have perfectly healthy full-term babies who just spent the night together this past weekend. Taking baths, drinking milks and watching a cartoon before bed are just a few things they’ve experienced together so far. A definite treat indeed.
My point to all of this is, 24 weeks, to me, is a major milestone. If it’s just one I celebrate in my head alone and move on with my day, then that’s fine.
All in all, it represents hope.
And that’s all I really need.
Ok, now that I got the whole “I’m having THREE boys, what the FARK am I going to do with myself????” pity party over with, (for the most part) I am now happy to report I am coasting into the “awe, I can’t wait to see what little boy #3 turns out to be” celebratory phase.
Will he look like Rt? More like Hola? Will he be a combo of both? Or a whole new set of DNA from hubs and yours truly.
A little overwhelmed.
(of course, WHO WOULDN’T?)
But, excited for what’s to come.
So, to celebrate my onward and upward attitude of late, here is a recent belly pic.
22 weeks, people!
Time sure flies by when all I seem to be doing is flying somewhere on a plane, roadtripin’ in a car and eating my way through the holidays! Good times. As you can see below, Butternut is making his way out in front quite nicely. I think he is still breech, but hoping he’ll start preforming some gymnastics flips here soon so we can not have to consider ANYTHING but vag childbirth come April. (Any suggestions? Not that there is anything I CAN do, per say, but if there were….)
It was an intimate setting, getting to see you clearly for the first time. The room was dark, the only light coming from the screen high above our heads mounted on the wall like a hospital room.
First your head. We were told you were breech. Not that that matters much now, but it clearly shows you like doing things your way already. I figured that is why I have felt most of you rather low. Giving mom a good goosing when she’s not expecting it already shows me how much you will not go UNnoticed in our family.
We see your arms, both of them. 5 fingers on each. We see thigh bones, two feet. And I am sure there are 10 toes to go with them. Then, when I was least expecting it (which is quite odd since it’s one of the reasons we were there, hello?) she flashed down below and she said,
“Do you see that?”
“T H E.B I G.P E N I S?”
And then the rest was foggy.
All I recall saying while I crossed my arms over my head, “Ahhh, That makes THREEEEE boys.”
Hubs looked over at me with a look in his eyes and a smile on his face telling me, “I just can’t believe it, but at the same time, I SO CAN.”
And within a minute, a tear made its way out of the side of my left eye and fell down my cheek. It came all on its own.
While she continued with the rest of the ultrasound, my mind began to wander. What would have been. What will never be. What will be the case. Being that person with THREEEEE boys. Being told at the grocery store, “wow, you must be busy.” The whole kit and caboodle sprinted across my mind like a movie in fast forward motion.
And then, I brought myself to attention. I told myself this boy of mine deserves my focus. I need to awe over his spine and try to place his profile with those boys who have come before him. I owed it to him to set aside my disbelief and appreciate his extremely low odds of having a chromosomal disease at 1 in 100,000!!! I was told my stats were those of a 12 year old. (I told her I felt 12 most of the time and wondered who put me in charge.)
When the doc came in to go over the rest of the ultrasound, I asked him “just to be sure” to go back over the nether regions once he was finished with everything else.
He asked me if I had any issues with bleeding. I said no. He told me my placenta was edging, just slightly, over my cervix. It doesn’t mean much now more than to take it easy in the bedroom for the next few weeks or so. Basically he said, “No chandeliers.” I looked over at hubs and told him I was sorry we would have to refrain from such vigorous activity. We laughed and both knew we don’t have any chandeliers in our house.
Then, he made his way back to the baby and within moments said, “Well, she might look kinda awkward in the girls’ locker room” making it even more clear we are dealing with a mass between the legs.
And, then, that was it. It was over.
The photos were handed out, the paperwork to schedule to return in 10 weeks to check placenta was assigned and out the door we went.
I got in the car, and as I did almost 3 years ago,
I began to mourn the loss of something I’ll never have.
And it’s ok.
It will be ok.
And, I’m ok.
I am going to be the mother of three sons. Three beautiful boys that I will try my darnedest to mold into compassionate men that one day will know how to treat a lady. To be fathers who love on their children like their dad does on them. To be able to let them go when they find that perfect somebody and not become that mother-in-law we all hope we’ll never be.
This is my purpose. This is the reason why.
There is no other answer.
Even though my boys do not know they are gaining a new life-long friend to love and wrestle with, they would like to share with you a sign we made this afternoon. (So fun to pull the wool over their eyes, isn’t it?)
Thank God I’d rather be no other place than the sidelines because I have a feeling I’ll be spending a good portion of my life sitting right behind that white line of chalk.
Every week at my mom’s group, we go around the table telling our highs and lows of the week. This way, everyone gets a chance to share what’s going on in their lives, whether good or bad. Having us there to be a good sounding board with wanted advice or just someone there to listen. Either way, it’s therapeutic.
So, here are my today’s highs and lows, cause I have no memory prior to yesterday to recall what I did this past week.
Left Rt’s backpack at school yesterday. Seems when they tell you to leave your backpack at the front door of the library during book fair, they actually want you to pick it back up on your way out. Luckily, it was still sitting there this morning, right out side the library. It takes brain power, people.
While running out the door to my monthly OB appt., I forgot Hola’s shoes. It wasn’t too much of an issue since I forced him into the stroller during these kind of appts. The only time it was semi-inappropriate to NOT have shoes on was at the bagel shop. Oh well, socks can pass for shoes, right? RIGHT?
While using all the dignity I had to pee in a cup in front on my son, (“pee in a CUP mommy?”) I didn’t notice the cup had a crack in it. Therefore, my potty experiment was all over the floor and my jeans. Nothing like telling the gals at the front desk there needs to be a clean up (on aisle 5!) in the handicap stall of the bathroom.
After visiting the OB office and the blood lab in RECORD time, I took Hola to the bagel store. While getting him back into the car, my semi-frozen diet coke bottle fell out of the car and rolled away in the parking lot. I waited, what I thought was the allotted amount of time, and opened the bottle. Frozen diet coke float came shooting out of the top and onto me, my seat and console. DUDE, I just washed these jeans. Now, they are sprinkled with Diet Coke and urine. And yes, I am still wearing them. What, I look CUTE today.
I went by the mailbox on my way home and found my new Kate Spake Iphone Cover in the mailbox!!!! Isn’t it SUPER CUTE? Very pleased with my purchase. I’ve already dropped it and all is still well. Phew.
Hola has now gone pee on the little potty 5 times. All on his own. Only catch is, he has to be naked. The two times I put him in underwear yesterday, he peed right through them. He also stands over the potty facing the seat and pees standing up. This is rather messy. Even today, as he was pushing the pee out a kibble showed up under his hood. I tried to get him to sit, but he thought I was sending him into the lion’s den. No dice.
The best part about all of this, so far, is seeing my kid running in from the backyard trying to make it to the potty with little turds falling out of his rear. I know, gross, but hilarious all at the same time. Not sure how we are going to straighten out the poop part, but I’m trying to be casual, so we’ll see how it goes….Pull-Ups should be here later today…..(Did you know 7th Generation had Pull-Ups? Me neither.
I just realized that I will be in Chicago 2 weeks from today for the Blathering!!! So thrilled. I’ve never been to Chicago and I’m looking forward to hanging with some lovely ladies. Got a kick ass deal at the Fairmont too! Living it up for the last time for quite some time, it seems. Bring it on!! And bring on the near-bear and fake Cabernet….
Also, two weeks from Tuesday, we find out what this baby is, boy or girl! Will try to put up a poll sometime next week just for shits and giggles.
And, last, but not least, I’ll be 17 weeks on Sunday. Not bad, not bad at all!