38 weeks

This Wednesday I will be 38 weeks pregnant. Whoa. That went super fast. 

Well, what I'm being forced to deal with is that I may not fully be over the trauma of Finn's birth. 

Finn's birth was a rough one. In face, when our doula-Louise-came over to meet with us this week, she said in all the births she has done (well over a thousand) Finn's birth was in the top 3 hardest and longest births she had. 

I think she said this to us to make us feel better, and empowered. In a way that meant, "if you could do that, you can do ANYTHING."

But yeah, it didn't make me feel like that. It made me feel scared all over again. In fact, it made me a bit terrified of the process. I strive so hard to have a mentality that "birth is normal" that "my body was made to do this" etc., etc. but sometimes I forget how scary it all can be. To not have control over the situation, to be scared about all the things that could go wrong. 

More than that-I am so scared that it'll be the same as with Finn. I'm so scared that I will have 3 days of prodromal labor, that I will have 19 more hours of active labor, that I will push for 3.5 hours, that he will still have to be vacuum-extracted, and mostly, I am so afraid that after everything we still won't get to hold him, and that we will have to go through 24 hours of terror that he won't be okay, and can't hold him and can't nurse. 

That's scary!  I feel like sometimes it's worse than going in blind because you have all those worries behind it. What if it happens again? What if I can't do all that again? 

Too much to think about! 

A little dignity please?

So, anyone out there who has been pregnant before knows that there is very little that feels "dignified" about the process of pregnancy and labor.  Somehow it gives people liberty to talk about your body, your weight gain, your breasts, and that's with complete strangers.  My friends, oh my friends get to hear the good stuff, the really gritty part of pregnancy and labor.

However, there are times during pregnancy where I want to scream at the top of my lungs "A LITTLE DIGNITY, PLEASE!"

And yesterday was one of those times.  I had an appointment with my midwife at  11:40, and I had a little test called the Group B strep (GBS) test, and also my first vaginal exam in...like 8 months.  At 36 weeks, or 9 months they start checking to see if you've made any progress...dilation-wise, effacement-wise, pelvic station-wise.  For a GBS test they need to swab your vagina to check for infection that might affect the baby.

So, anyways, if you're like me...you need a little preparation time for this particular visit.  I needed some grooming action, and any of you that have seen me lately, might understand how damn difficult that process is.  

So whatever, I get that situation all done with, and Finn and I make our way to the doctor.  We get to the doctor--ipad in hand, cheeze-it's ready to be eaten.  To get into the doctor Finn HAS TO (seriously) press 4 different buttons.  He has to press the two handicapped entryway door buttons, he HAS to press the elevator button, and he absolutely must press the 2 for the second floor.  None of this is optional, this is what he lives for...this is how I get the child out of the house to go to the doctor with me, the promise of these damn buttons.

So we do that, Finn then announces to the entire room that he has to go potty, so my giant ass makes my way into the bathroom with him, crouches down and helps him go potty.  I cannot go yet, because I have to leave a urine sample.  So helping him go is excruciating.  We go back to the waiting room, where Finn refuses to speak to anyone that speaks to him.

Finally, they call us back and I get to "leave my sample" which is code for pee into a tiny cup, with my 2 year old watching me.  So, I've done this before, no big deal.  I go about my business, except this time, Finn knocks into me, which then knocks my hand, which then causes me to pee all over myself, and completely miss the cup.

So, then, Finn and I have to wash up, and I have to go tell the nurses that, in fact, I missed the cup, because why not embarrass myself further and announce to the entire room.  And I cannot say "my child ran into me" because that just sounds mean...like I'm blaming my 2 year old for something I should be able to do relatively easily.  So they say it's fine, they just need a little bit, which I have provided...go me.

I then move into the exam room, which is tinier than usual because of my impending vaginal check.  They take my blood pressure, I try to get Finn situated with the iPad in the chair in the corner of the room (p.s. that chair is directly facing where my exam will take place, so Finn will get a front row seat to the viewing of my junk).  And the nurse tells me to remove everything from the waist down.

Awesome.

I do so, and cover myself with the terribly uncomfortable paper cloth covering.  And from that moment, I am stuck where I am sitting, because if I get up--my entire ass is showing to the outside of the office if the door opens.

So, as soon as I cover myself with that stupid paper, Finn decides that it is time to jump on top of me and proceed to (literally) jump off the part of the table where my feet sit.  In the process of doing this, Finn rips a gigantic hole in my paper-covering exposing one of my legs.  He then, proceeds to (accidentally) rip three more holes in this paper covering in the 10 minutes that we are waiting for Bernie to come in the room.  He also cannot make whatever app he is playing with work, so he is coming over to me with that damn ipad every 10 seconds asking me for help.

Suffice it to say, by the time Bernie enters the room...I am very disheveled and very sweaty...EVERYWHERE.  So we chat for a little while, and then proceed to my exam, which I have to give a very specific apology about my sweatiness before-hand.  


And all I'm asking is why does shit like this have to happen to me all the time?  Why can't Finn just sit there for 10 minutes, why can't I just feel dignified for 10 seconds out of the day.

I suppose that it's all downhill from here anyways.

Geez.

Caution: Overly emotional pregnant lady.

Well hello.

I haven't blogged in a while, though this one has been floating through my head for the last week or so.

First, I have gotten to the crazy-gigantic, uncomfortable stage of pregnancy.  The part that I am fairly certain was invented by those who wanted to scare us females into thinking that SURELY the pain of labor MUST be better than this nonsense.  The nauseous, crampy, heavy, bloated, heart-burn ridden-ness, the labor must be worth it to make this stuff stop.

Well, with this pregnancy, along with all these other symptoms...I have some crazy, out-of-control hormones making me ridiculously emotional.  My emotions are completely all over the place.

At every moment of the day I am feeling some emotion, but it's like I am incapable of feeling that emotional on a normal level.  My emotion has to be felt at like a 434524525234 on a scale of 1-10.  For instance, while I sit here writing this blog, Randy is watching some stupid show, and two fans are going at our house.  And the fucking noise is making me want to kill Randy, or walk over to him and punch him in the face.  (Emotional translation= I want it to be quiet). But instead of feeling mildly irritated by this, I am literally sweating because I am so angry about it.  Is there a logical, rational reason for this...nope.  Do I care?  Nope.

So, within the last few days there have been so many emotional ups and downs that I can barely stand it.   For example, this morning Randy and I were sitting at the park after going to the Farmer's market watching Finn run around the park, and run up and down a little grassy hill.  And here I am, crying...like, literally tears running down my face, because I can't believe that that little boy is so beautiful, and so happy, and so mine, and so vibrant and alive, and 100 more adjectives.  And then I start to talk to Randy about how damn scared I am about how it's even possible to love another human being as much as I love Finn.  How will I love Crosby like I love Finn (the rational side of me knows this is silly, but the emotional side of me is truly frightened about this)?  Will I love him enough?  Will I love Finn enough when Crosby is here?  Will I ignore Finn?  Will he feel uncared about?  How many ways can I be afraid of screwing my children up?  Will the second-guessing EVER end?

The emotions aren't always so nice though, they aren't always happy tears and questions about love for my children.  Sometimes, the emotions are downright mean and angry.  Yesterday morning Randy was pissing me off, because Randy always wants to cook big breakfasts on the weekends.  But Randy NEVER wants to clean up those breakfasts, and he certainly doesn't want to clean them up right away. Normally, I don't mind too much, but at 9 months pregnant, I mind.  I mind a lot.  So I said something mean to Randy, called him a jerk, and a few other choice phrases.  He then took Finn outside to play in the sandbox and t-ball.  I calmed down, and got a bottle of water and some goldfish, and walked outside.  Randy said "why are you outside with a jerk?"  Passive aggressive--yes.  Worth my reaction--no.  Because here's my reaction...I threw my water bottle, which exploded into an impressive fountain, threw my goldfish crackers, ran inside, closed the door, and cried for 25 minutes.

Randy eventually came inside, probably to fight more, but saw how upset I was and apologized and just rubbed my back for a while.

I am just so tired of feeling so manic/depressive.  I'm either way up or way down, and it comes on in moments.

Other examples from the week:

-  Saw a picture of V that her aunt posted, and started immediately crying because I haven't seen them in 2 weeks, and I miss them :(

-  Texted one of my friends, and they didn't text me back immediately, got irately angry, threw my phone against the wall.

-  Countless times have gotten into it with Randy for no reason other than to have someone to fight with.

-  Cried more times than I can even count about beautiful things (mainly Finn)...things Finn does/says/sings, seeing something beautiful, thinking about brothers in our house.

- Cried more times than I can even count about having to do things...things that (in my mind) SHOULD be easy, but are quite difficult for me at 9 months pregnant...like cleaning baseboards, cleaning fans, doing laundry.  Blah blah blah.


I have to be done now, because I'm getting emotional just writing this...for no reason.

Hopefully the crazy ends soon!