Bed Rest

Ever wonder what it feels like to be 8 months pregnant? I can sum it up on a few adjectives for you. Swollen, fat, uncomfortable, numb, achy, tired, excited, worried, bored, restless. Sound appealing? Before I scare you out of having babies completely, I should mention that these adjectives do NOT apply to every preggo out there. But they do, however, apply to me. Now I've been called dramatic for most of my life, so why would pregnancy be any different for me? My pregnancy pays tribute to my dramatic life in a big way. I have had just about every up and down you can experience during pregnancy so far. From intense morning sickness (all day sickness), excessive weight gain, extreme mood swings, lots of back pain, exhaustion, crazy bursts of energy, depression, high blood pressure, dizziness. Now, I thought that maybe since we are heading into the last quarter that my body would cut me some slack. But OH NO, there was another plan in mind for me. Enter extreme swollen feet, hands and face. In a couple short weeks, my face has doubled in size, and I have piled on at LEAST 15 pounds or more of extra water weight. My lovely maternity coat that I made sure to buy much too big, no longer fits, and the pair of clogs I have been jamming my feet into no longer stay on. I have two pairs of socks I can actually wear, and yesterday one became evidently too small, as I took it off and my foot was imflamed to twice its normal swollen size. I have been swollen for a few weeks, and I tried not to be a crazy nut at first, and said to myself, 'I'll see how it goes until my next check-up''. Well, the check-up was almost two weeks later, and by then my already out of whack pressure was up again, and my feet were HUGE. I also stopped being able to feel the tips of my hands about two weeks ago. So, my doctor brought me back in two days in a row out of concern. Checking everything out. On the plus side our little guy is moving around like a champ. However, on the negative side, Mamma is a beached whale. My doctor did a few reflex tests, looks at my hands and feet, took a few notes, then called over to the maternity ward, whispered a few things in the phone, hung up, and informed me to go directly to the hospital. I went there, had MORE tests done, blood drawn, peed in the little jar, and waited, and waited. Finally, a nurse came in and said, 'Okay, you can go home now'. I was sent home with strict orders not to do  ANYTHING. Apparently anything means no cooking, no cleaning, no walking, no exercising, no shopping, big fat nothing. Walking to the bathroom is the extent of my permitted activities. Honestly, I should be grateful, but my world shattered. Here I was, looking forward to this glorious nesting period where I would have all of this energy to scrub my floors, bake cookies, prepare meals for the weeks ahead, finish the nursery, and shop for the last minute baby things. Instead, I am stuck sitting on the couch, watching Gilmore Girls reruns, creeping Facebook, and listening to my dog snore. I'm fairly stubborn when it comes to taking orders, so I may not have listening to EVERYTHING the doctor said. But I just can't leave the cooking in the hands of my boyfriend, as much as I love him, I'm the cook in this house. He has been fantastic, yesterday for example, I sat with my feet up, sobbing my way through 'The Help', as he scrubbed, vaccummed, swept, and swiffered every inch of my house. I am so appreciative of his constant willingness to step up, but it's very hard to relinquish all of that responsibility on to him. I sent him into the grocery store with a list of items to pick up the other day, and I was so worried he wouldn't know what to get, that I only picked out things that were in the flyer, and made sure I circled them, in addition to writing them down on a list, including size and amounts. Did I mention my mother was also there to help him? Now before you go thinking the poor guy is incompetent. I should mention that he could have managed just fine without the list, without the flyer, and without the mother. But, my inner control freak just can't let things flow naturally, I always need to cover my tracks. So honestly, that's the hardest part of sitting back and not being able to do anything, just that, not being able to do anything! Not being allowed to leave the house. Not being able to grocery shop, not being able to go visit friends, not being able to stand in the damn shower long enough to shave my legs! Now that one is a tricky one, I could barely shave them before this happened, but now, I can't stand in there long enough to accomplish the task at all. I have told myself that maybe the swelling will go down if I do as I'm told, and I avoid sodium and other things that cause swelling. However, in the short time it takes to get up, brush my teeth, and eat breakfast at the kitchen table, my feet have already doubled in size. So, this is a good indication that things will not get better before baby time. So for now, I am stuck, with my butt firmly planted to the couch, with a remote in one and hand, and a doggie paw in the other. Have I mentioned my pup has become extra needy lately? Oh bliss. 7 weeks to go.

Downslide

I love that word. Downslide. I love saying it, because it usually implies that the end of something is close. I have always used in reference to the end of a school year, or the end of a year while I was away working Québec. But this time, when I use the word I am met with various different emotions, and not all of them are excitement. If you have been pregnant before, or if you are pregnant, you will relate to how I'm feeling. I'm very sorry, but to anyone who says 'Oh, I wasn't nervous at all for the arrival of my baby!', you my friend, are full of shit. Sure, maybe you had a relaxed approach to the idea of actually giving birth (lucky you), but if you weren't at least a little bit nervous of the unknown, then I would say you aren't even human. I am now over 30 weeks pregnant. At my last doctors appointment, I was informed that it's time to register at the hospital. That really made things real to me. Okay, this is actually happening, I haven't just been gaining massive amounts of weight be being kicked from the inside out for nothing. I'm going to have a baby. Even more than that, I am going to be a mother. HOLY FUCK! I'm going to be a mother. If you're offended by my colorful language, sorry, I can't possibly think of two better words to use.
  So, while I am busy wrapping my head my impending entry to motherhood, my fiancé is wrapping his head around the fact that he is going to be a father. Our little guy is due to join us a week before his daddy heads off to start lobster season. This is a very busy time of year for him, early mornings and very little sleep. So, you add a crying newborn baby who does not understand that Daddy needs to get up at 3am and functional normally for the next 9-10 hours, we should be in for quite a joyride. On top of being fishing season, we are actually cutting it very close with our due date. My initial due date was April 14th, my doctor just changed it to the 15th, and chances are I won't go early or even on time. The first day of fishing season may very well be the 20th of April. So, my hope is that my little bambino makes his entry on time or before the 19th. God help us all if I go into labour while my fiancé is out on the Northumberland Strait. I don't think they let dogs drive cars, and even if they did, Milo's anxiety is worse than mine, so I don't think we would make it very far.
Now, let's talk about this stage of pregnancy. I am now in my third trimester. The home stretch, as they say. "'They'' are complete morons, because home stretch to me always seemed to be such an easy thing. Let me assure you that there is NOTHING easy about feeling and looking like an orca. My face is swollen, I have an extra chin, my boobs are drying out, and my pregnancy jeans do NOT fit. I haven't had a decent sleep in three weeks, and I have nightmares of giving birth to my little guy and realizing he's not ready and then putting him back in. WHAT THE HELL? Now that makes for fun table conversation. 'I had the coolest dream last night, James Franco was my boyfriend, and we did it in the backseat of his Porsche'... to which I come back with 'Oh yeah? Well I had a dream I gave birth and then put the baby back in myself!'. Suddenly the room goes silent, and people give me that awkward, painful look, as if to say, 'What the hell did you smoke before you went to bed last night?'. But wait, not only do I have these dreams, but I also get up every 2 hours, like clockwork, to go pee. I tried not drinking a lot before I go to bed, but since even my eyeballs are dried out these days, that just doesn't work. So, I have developed a pattern, get up, go pee, drink a glass of water, sleep two hours, repeat. I've told myself that soon enough I will replace the peeing and drinking with taking care of the baby, and if it's that exact, I'll have it made. This is what keeps me going, the thought that my baby will come out just as disciplined and organized as his Mamma, and put himself right on a nice schedule. A girl can dream, right? Speaking of dreaming, I'm also dreaming of what my body might someday look like, after I shed the extra person I've gained during this whole baby growing process. Now, I'm not about to beat myself up over this, because I earned my extra layers the honest way. Although I am really glad I have had a fall/winter pregnancy, I'm also convinced that this has contributed to my weight gain. Who want's to go out walking in -20 temperatures? It's hard enough when you're not large and in charge, but you try waddling through snowbanks. NOT happening. I had the utmost admiration for those super preggos who hit the gym like its their job and continue to count their calories. They must not have the same tapeworm I have. I am hungry at LEAST every 2 hours, and when I say hungry, I mean my belly is growling. I used to tell myself it was heartburn, then I discovered heartburn, and let me tell you, it is NOT the same thing. So I try to eat healthy snacks, apples, bananas, carrots. I think I'm doing good, then my doctor says, you might want to try just eating vegetables, and not so much fruit, as it has more calories. To which I want to reply, 'Oh yeah? Well I bet a chocolate has more calories '. I see plenty of ladies out there indulged in ALL of their cravings, whenever they see fit. Here I am, sitting at home, convincing myself that carrot sticks are YUMMY and they satifsy any cravings I might have. Another thing I am also convincing myself of is the fact that 75% of my weight gain is just fluid retention. Well, my fingers are pretty swollen....
So, Mommy and Daddy are preparing themselves mentally for the arrival of their bundle of joy. BUT, they must also prepare the house! Yes, that's right! Our house is now overrun with baby gear. Who knew such a small little being would require such a large amount of stuff. I have been on the hunt for gently used baby things for the past couple of months, and through generousity, and good connections, I have accumulated a baby swing, a bumbo chair, a bassinet, a playpen, a baby carrier, an entire travel system, two play mats, and a nursing pillow. My parents bought us a brand new travel system, car seat, base and stroller, and my grandmother is paying for the crib and mattress. We ordered a dresser from the same place we ordered the crib set, so everything matches. It was the only thing I was set on, having white furniture that somewhat matched. We took a basic approach to the nursery, involving very little painting, and I channeled every ounced of creativity I have to create my own nursery decor, costing us only one trip to Dollarama for  a few art supplies. I have to say that so far the most enjoyable aspects of pregnancy, other than seeing your baby at ultrasounds, or feeling them kick, has been shopping for little onesies with cute one-liners, or picking out things for the nursery. It almost balances out the sleepless nights, and the time spent bent over the toilet bowl.
All in all, ready or not, Baby Finn will be making his glorious arrival in just 10 short weeks. Then the real fun starts...