The end of a chapter but the story goes on

My six week postnatal check-up was the very last step to closing the book on pregnancy for me. I'm back to my normal self after surviving the toll of pregnancy and delivery and as I look back, I have mixed emotions. On one hand, I'm grateful that I will never have to live so uncomfortably for so long ever again, but on the other hand, I'm sad that I will never again experience the feeling of a growing baby sharing my body or the miracle of birth.

After months and months of deep thought about whether or not to have another baby, I ultimately couldn't ignore that there was another somebody waiting to join our family - our little Carter. I had been talking to Bill about it constantly, telling him that we couldn't be finished and that there was one more baby we needed to have. He was very unsure, always thinking of the concrete issues; job security and financial stability. After much discussion, he said that once he had a good job, he would consider it. He did find that job and after more conversation, it took an unexpected pregnancy scare to kick us in the rear to get going.

I will never forget that day where I took the pregnancy test at playgroup. I was so scared because we were just getting settled into Bill's new job and we were without health insurance at the time. I was terrified that we could be expecting because it could have either ruined us financially with the cost of medication or I would have to suffer terribly while we waited for our coverage to kick in. I remember shaking while waiting for the results with tears streaming down my face. Finally, a negative. And my heart sank. Sometimes, a negative can be a sad occurrence when you know you want to eventually get a positive. Bill felt the same way. This was the moment we found ourselves on the same page. Now we were ready to start planning.

We made sure we had enough in our savings account to cover the medical costs, had our ducks in a row with our insurance coverage and I began preparing for another round of hyperemesis by gaining 10 extra pounds and making sure I had zofran readily available when I needed it. When we tried for Logan, it only took once, so naturally I thought Carter would be just as easy. He wasn't. It took a couple of months to finally get the positive test we were waiting for. But once I was pregnant, I didn't even really need a test. The nausea started at about 3 weeks into the pregnancy. The test was more of a formality. Regardless of how I was going to feel physically, we were thrilled to be expecting again.

I had hoped for the best and prepared for the worst and just as I had suspected, I would be living through another pregnancy with HG again. In the beginning I wasn't as sick as I had remembered being with Logan and I worried that something might have been wrong. That all changed soon enough. By 5 or 6 weeks into the pregnancy, I was very ill and beginning to lose weight. Overall, I ended up losing 20 pounds - again. I had been so sick, Logan asked me "sick?" all day long and eventually began to imitate me being sick while eating his dinner at the table. I had been spending so much time in the bathroom, that I declared one as my "sick bathroom" complete with a "NO POOPING" sign on the door to ensure it's cleanliness. My zofran prescription was at the highest recommended dosage of 32 mg a day (8mg every 3-4 hours) and unlike my pregnancy with Logan, this wasn't enough. I still needed an additional anti-emetic (compazine) at night, as well as unisom, to keep me alive. It's hard to believe that I've already forgotten how miserable I was.

Being sick like that for so long takes a toll on the whole family. I was a horrible person to be around (understandably). I felt awful for not being able to take care of Logan like I wanted and hated the fact that I relied heavily on Bill to pick up the slack. I don't like feeling helpless. I was so thankful for my friends who offered play dates, meals and support, as hard as it was to accept. As the pregnancy went on, I began to feel better but still needed the daily zofran to keep me from relapsing. When I could eat I was taking advantage of the situation, craving nothing but junk foods or fast foods. I lived on milkshakes and hot fudge sundaes. Thankfully, it didn't show in my hips too much.

The first two trimesters were an odd time for me. Not only was I feeling like I was on death's door, but I didn't have a baby belly to appreciate. It sometimes felt like I was suffering for no apparent reason. Not knowing if we were expecting a boy or a girl only made it worse, as I couldn't connect with an "it". At 15 weeks I felt the fist of many flutters that would become full on kicks and punches. At the 20 week ultrasound we easily discovered (before the technician declared the sex) that we were having another boy. Both Bill and I were so excited that Logan would have a little brother to play with. I began to feel more connected to Carter now that he wasn't just "the baby". I was getting sick for something, for him, not for an alien that seemed to have taken over my body. And by 22-24 weeks, I began to actually look a "little bit pregnant".

As Carter grew stronger, he kicked and punched and stretched me beyond belief. He actually spread my ribs out so much that a few of them had come out of socket and needed to be put back in place. Now that HG was in check, the regular pregnancy discomforts took over - severe rib and sternum burning sensations, heart burn, back aches, nightmares, the list went on. Then the contractions started.

At first they were just regular Braxton Hicks, but they were relentless. After a while and as my stress levels increased, the intensity and regularity of the contractions increased as well. Before I knew it, I was being admitted to Labor & Delivery for pre-term contractions. More than once. The first time was the worst, having to need a shot of terbutaline to stop them from progressing. The side effects were horrible, causing me to have almost full body convulsions - when they said I could expect to shake like I had too much caffeine. Right. This was more like I had hypothermia or severe Parkinson's. From there on out, I had to decrease my activity level and stress levels (as much as I could with Logan running around and Bill being a jerk). The second time I was admitted wasn't nearly as bad, but the information given to me by the OB on call would later result in Carter almost being born at home.

The final weeks of the pregnancy were uneventful as I waited on pins and needles for Carter's arrival. While I was sad that I wouldn't be able to feel him punch me from the inside, I was ready to get my body back. It was time to move on. When Carter finally decided to make his way out, it was an adventure that I will never forget, full of drama and excitement. It was a movie-like labor and delivery. It was so surreal.

Our life as a family of four has been incredible. The first week home were the best days of my entire life, even while being sleep deprived. I had never been so happy. Ever. All of my fears about not remembering how to take care of a newborn, how Logan would feel about Carter, how our family would adjust - they all were forgotten as life proved otherwise. It's been an amazing beginning and I cherish every memory, every high and low, every triumph and challenge. So far, our life story has been a good read and it will be interesting to see what the next chapters will have in store for us.

We needed this
It's been another gray Monday without much to do (outside the house - I've been swamped with MOMS Club stuff via email). Logan & I have had another nice day cuddling on the couch watching TV, reading books & playing with cars. Too many days like this tend to make us both stir-crazy, but not today. Today has been awesome & so relaxing. We both needed this.

I don't know how many more days Logan & I will have together with it just being the two of us snuggled up. I don't know how more days I'll have to just hang out & sleep the 3 hours during Logan's nap time. Sure, there's a pile of laundry that needs to be folded (more like 6 piles) but at least it's all clean. The dishes are done & our house cleaner comes tomorrow (when we get back to busy schedule life). Right now, it's all about the big, white, fuzzy robe & all the cuddles we can get in.

I don't know why today has been the way it has since Logan is usually too wild to cuddle for long periods of time. He usually gets bored & causes trouble, causing my blood to boil. I usually have to yell at him a million times about leaving Buddha alone or to stop running around with food in his mouth. I can count on one hand how many times I've had to raise my voice today (once, maybe twice?). He hasn't even had a temper tantrum today (except for the mini melt down before nap that was really nothing). The rest of the time has been spent hugging - me, Carter, the cat - & laughing at him being cute.

This is how I want to remember our last days of it being just the two of us. Calm, loving, relaxing, cute. I hope it lasts a bit longer.

Equal to bigamy?
Throughout the entire pregnancy with Carter, I never once felt guilty that Logan would have to share his time with us or that his world would change. I always thought that he would adjust very well since he is really good about sharing, is independent & has been fascinated with babies. I planned on keeping him involved by being my little helper, which he loves to do anyway. I thought being a Big Brother would make him feel important & special, even though he's only two. And then I heard this piece of conversation today...

"My sister was reading a book that said that bringing home a new baby is to the older sibling what you'd feel like if bigamy was legal and your husband brought home another wife. I never thought of it like that!"

Well. I never thought about it like that either. It makes a lot of sense. After taking that in, my stomach dropped & for the first time I felt an intense wash of guilt flow through my blood. An irrational thought of "Holy crap! What did I do? I can't take this back!" popped out of the recesses of my sporadically functioning pregnancy-brain. I know how jealous I would be if the tables were turned & I had to "share" & for some unknown reason, it never clicked with me on how Logan might feel until now. Until we are virtually days away from expecting Carter's birth.

Maybe I was blinded by optimism & refused to believe that Logan would be emotionally hurt by the arrival of his brother. As I watched him play out in the backyard by himself, swinging on his stomach on the swings, driving his cars across the fence, relentlessly chasing Buddha around & playing pretend with his dinosaurs, I felt sorry that he was alone. I always imagined how much fun he would have with his little brother & never imagined that he might dislike him just because of his existence in our home.

The more I thought about this, the more I realized that not all of us like our siblings. Some of us had intense sibling rivalry as kids that we grew out of (my sisters & I had daily hair-pulling fights) & some of us grew to dislike our brothers or sisters as adults (Bill might feel this way now, but I can't speak for him). As mothers, we always dream of the perfect family - kids playing together peacefully & lovingly. I think mothers of boys even take it a step farther & dream about the brotherly love their kids will share - a sibling connection that is stronger than one can fathom. Now I am afraid that I have unrealistic expectations or dreams of the relationship that Logan & Carter may have.

I can only hope that Bill & I express to Logan effectively (for a two year old) that Carter is not a subtraction from him or us, but an addition to our family. That even though our time will be divided, our happiness will double. I want to keep thinking that things will work out as I had hoped them to.

Getting emotional
Now that we really are getting close to Carter's arrival, I'm beginning to get more choked up & teary-eyed at thought & preparation that I've been doing. I've been getting all of our pictures organized to get ready for the onslaught of newborn pictures that we're going to take, we're cleaning out the garage this weekend, I'm going to clean out the car, we'll get our closets purged & organized & the purchase final bits & pieces of things that we need to get for Carter (diapers, pick out a coming home outfit, etc). I'm also going to get the hospital bag packed & Logan's potential overnight bag packed too.

One thing that I am so excited about is our coming home party that I'm also getting ready for. It is SO IMPORTANT to me that we have some very special family time when we come home from the hospital, especially since I missed out on those moments with Logan. I do want it to be kind of a big deal without much effort. I'd rather not just come home with an anti-climactic feeling of "now what" or just going back to business as usual. So, we're going to have a little birthday party, or more like a family celebration. At the baby shower, one of my friends bought Logan the cutest "Big Brother" shirts that he'll wear & I'm going to make some cupcakes to freeze ahead of time. All Bill will have to do before picking us up is remembering to thaw out the cupcakes & possibly getting Logan a balloon. So, nothing extravagant, but simple & special (now I need some kleenex).

It's unbelievable that we are so close to becoming a family of four, a family with two boys. The pregnancy will be over with & I'll (hopefully) never have to worry about living with hyperemesis again. There are so many feelings, everything from excitement & anticipation to fear & doubt. But right now? Just thinking about our family makes me so happy & I can't wait for our littlest guy to join us.

The lone ranger
I'm a little nervous. I probably shouldn't be & everything will be OK, but Bill is leaving for a business trip in the morning & will be gone for the next day & a half (two days?). While I'm having contractions on a regular basis throughout the day, he'll be halfway across the country - Portland, no less.

First & foremost, I am VERY jealous. I miss Portland badly & want to go back for a visit as much as I want to eat ice cream every night. We're hoping to take a family vacation there this summer, so it's not a far off dream, but still. I want to go. But not while pregnant. Because I can't eat the sushi or drink the beer. On the other hand, it would suck more than anything to go into labor while he's gone. Not saying that I think it will happen, but with our luck - you never know. I'm so glad I have a lot of friends that I can call for labor support & child care if anything like that should happen.

However, I am slightly anxious about taking care of Logan all by myself from sun up to sun down for the next two days. Bill's been getting up early to take of Logan's breakfast & getting him bathed & into bed at night (because it hurts me to do so). This is a time where I think to myself, "how on earth do single pregnant mothers do it". I am exhausted as it is, I can't put on my own shoes without sounding like a grunting jungle animal & getting through Logan's bath time routine should result in me being awarded a gold medal. Or something like that.

I hope the next couple of days go by quickly & painlessly.

Strike a pose
Since this is going to be our last baby & I will never (hopefully) be pregnant again, it's important to me to record as many memories of pregnancy as I can. The one aspect I missed with Logan was belly shots. I got a few towards the end, taking a picture by month, but nothing compared to the weekly/bi-weekly pictures I've been taking with Carter. The other photographic evidence I missed out on was a maternity photo shoot, because, let's face it - they aren't cheap & we didn't have the funds to even think about it with Logan.

Photographer friend has been one of my most awesome friends ever. From helping take care of Logan during our trips to labor & delivery, listening to me cry about random stressors, sharing our pregnancies & losses (she's pregnant again after a loss), hosting a baby shower for me, going out for a lunch that saved my life while I was sick, to taking our family portraits for free - including all of our prints (custom designed announcements & holiday cards, too). This morning we went over to her house/studio for my maternity session. With everything she's done & continues to do - I don't know how to thank her enough.

The session this morning was fun, even with Logan screaming his head off again. I don't know what's up with that boy, but every photo shoot we have, he melts down & is the most difficult subject to photograph. It wasn't important that he be in many of the shots this time, so it was a whole lot less stressful. I think we got maybe one or two with him, more of Bill & myself together & after that, they went upstairs to watch Sponge Bob with Little M while I did the belly shots & more "artistic" poses.

This is the great thing about having your pictures taken by a professional - you have great lighting & they have the photoshop skills to edit out ugly stretch marks (which, YES, I have requested for professional pictures). You are photographed in ways that you could never do on your own, with props (fans & sheer wraps!) & really, you look like a completely different person compared to the snaps shots you take with your point & shoot at home. Professional photographers make you look amazing.

She showed me a couple on her view screen & they looked so nice. I can't wait to see what she has after she goes through the proofing & editing. As much as I feel like a fat cow, I know that the pictures she took are beautiful & I will cherish how my pregnant body looked for years to come.

The fire is burning now!
Nesting is in full swing since the labor & delivery scare last week. Realizing that I have five weeks that Carter needs to stay in until the Doctors won't stop contractions totally lit a fire under my rear. This weekend I bought his baby calender, wooden letters to paint for his room, stars for the walls & I've begun to wash all of his clothes & blankets.

Tonight I'm buying totes to organize all of Logan's hand-me-downs & start getting the closet organized. I got the infant car seat out of the garage & I'm going to have Bill install that as soon as I clean out the car. This weekend I'll have him pull out the swing & get the crib put together. He also needs to get on top of Aunt Ju-Ju who still has our pack & play that I plan on using as a bassinet like we did for Logan.

Other than buying some newborn clothes, we haven't done anything to prepare for his arrival yet. I'm going to get a Moby Wrap & I'm sure I'll have more clothes to wash after the baby shower next month (I'm hoping for more diapers than clothes at this point). We've decided on a stars & moon theme for his room, with a touch of Good Night Moon in there, so it should be pretty cute. I'll take pictures once that gets completed.

I feel like I have so much to do. Do I sound like a frantic pregnant mom yet?

There's a first time for everything
I've mentioned before how my workouts have sucked because I've had to stop doing everything other than walking due to a ridiculous amount of braxton hicks contractions. While these contractions are generally normal, I was getting boarder line abnormal amounts (4-5 in an hour). So, I had to use my better judgment & take it down a notch for a while (actually, do practically nothing). This has been excruciatingly difficult for me on so many levels.

This last stretch of pregnancy messes with my head - big time. I know I'm supposed to get bigger & I'm supposed to gain weight. I'm not gaining an abnormal amount of weight & the last time I checked, I'm actually 10 pounds up from pre-pregnancy weight (up 30 pounds from my lowest when I was dying from hyperemesis). But, seeing my body change (specifically my butt & legs) really bothers me & I try not to even look at them. Not working out causes me a little more stress than usual, since it's a HUGE stress reliever for me & not being able to control these body changes is just irritating. In reality I know I don't look like it, but I feel like a whale waddling around.

It's a catch 22 as well, because I'm also taking advantage of eating the foods that I normally don't. When I'm not pregnant, we don't have ice cream, potato chips, marshmallows & other junk foods in the house. No, I'm the Nutrition Nazi except when I'm expecting, because I know there's nothing I can do for the body changes. I give in. Which doesn't help.

After our workout yesterday morning (more like her workout & I just trained), photographer friend mentioned that we should do an aqua aerobics class. I've trained people in the pool many times, but I myself have never actually taken a class. Until today. As much as I'm uncomfortable with the body changes, I don't mind being in a bikini top & board shorts (talk about mixed feelings, huh?), so I decided to give the class a shot.

Holy crap, did this class ever kick my pregnant butt. I was able to do almost all of the exercises with the exception of the ones that require you to bring your legs up to your chest - yeah, that's not happening here - & I got a pretty good cardio workout because the Carter Belly was supported in the water rather than me having to hold it in place & walk slowly on the treadmill. I felt muscles working that I haven't been able to work in a long time, specifically my back & hip muscles, which is really important right now. And to top it all off, while I did get a few contractions, they weren't bad at all. Nothing like from the other totally lame workouts I was having to resort to.

I never thought I would do aqua aerobics classes, but that has totally changed. I have 10 weeks (or a few less) to do this at least once a week. That's plenty of time to slow down the fat cow feelings & actually get physically moving enough for labor to be relatively easy (or so I hope).

I'm getting antsy
Nesting is starting to kick in & it's kind of driving me nuts (& Bill too, I'm sure). We haven't cleared out Carter's room to get it ready for him yet because it's still being used as the computer room/library. It's killing me.

When we moved into our house, we decided that we would use the extra room as a computer room rather than a guest room. We've since changed our minds & now the front room is going to serve as the computer room/library, we just need to find an armoire for the computer rather than the desk we already have. I want it to look more like a sitting room than a computer room & everything is hinging on finding this one piece of furniture.

I've looked at every website online & every show room in town. The problem is, we're being cheap. I'm not spending $2,000 on something the kids are going to drive their matchbox cars all over & ruin in two years. We have a price range in mind & instead of buying from a manufacturer or paying an insane amount in shipping costs, it looks like we're going to have to wheel & deal with someone who's selling one. Now we just have to find someone who's selling an espresso or dark wood finished armoire - not pine, oak or anything else (which there are a lot of) so it will match our bookcase & the rest of the computer room furniture.

So, I look for one every day & never find a seller. As time goes on, I get more & more antsy about it. To me, it's starting to feel like an emergency that this room is not finished & we haven't started on Carter's room. It's a nesting crisis for me. Yet, we still have a solid 3 months before we really need to have the room ready for him.

Ugh. I hate feeling this way & just want the damn rooms to be furnished & decorated.

As if
As if it isn't hard enough finding a swimming suit when you're not pregnant, maternity suits are HORRIBLE to look for. This afternoon with Logan in tow, we went all over town looking for a swimming suit for me because it's finally nice enough to start hanging out by the pool. I was hoping I would find one today so we could go swimming before Logan's nap, but that wasn't happening.

I tried a few different stores, one had absolutely nothing for pregnant women & their plus size suits would have never fit me (I don't know why I thought that might be an option), the other had 3 different styles for maternity wear & I tried on larger sizes of a regular cut tankini (not long enough). By the end of the afternoon I was disappointed & thoroughly discouraged. I'm going to have to drive to the next town over to look & see what they have. UGH.

The silver lining of today was that Logan was a PERFECT shopping companion. His behavior has been fantastic over the last couple of days with very little screaming & temper tantrums. It's been awesome! So, while there was a little whining here & there - we did have to leave one store (but we were leaving anyway) & this was the most mild of tantrums - he just wanted to sit on time out to take a break, it was very tolerable & under control. His manners were spot on, saying please & thank you. I almost wondered if he had been abducted by aliens during the night. He enjoyed shopping with me & picking out his new car for being good & I certainly enjoyed being with a super cute, nice, well-behaved little guy.

Officially pregnant
I cannot even begin to express how important yesterday's ultrasound was to me. I finally feel like I'm out of pregnancy limbo, that it's "real" & more significantly, we're waiting for Carter not "the baby". As each minute of the day passes, I am increasingly more excited (not that I wasn't before).

Now I feel pregnant. I feel like we can start getting Carter's room ready (while getting Logan's decorated as well since it's been bare ever since we've moved), we can start looking for newborn clothes & the small odds & ends that we'll need to get to be ready for him, which honestly isn't much. The knots in my stomach from before the ultrasound have now turned into butterflies of anticipation.

To each their own, but I really don't understand how parents, especially mothers, can go on in a pregnancy wanting to be surprised. To me, the difference in knowing is like night & day. I couldn't imagine not knowing. Thank God I was born in this century where routine ultrasounds are available & finding out the gender is common.

What's also beginning to sink in is that I'm the mother of two boys. I was not really hoping for one specific gender, only a healthy baby, but having another boy is almost a relief (almost). I kind of feel like I know what I'm doing & getting myself into. But that's also the other half the the almost, I know what I'm getting myself into. I've been mentally preparing this pregnancy to expect an equally rambunctious, messy, loud, active, tornado of a kid as Logan is. Which is bittersweet. It will be amazingly fun (boy scouts, soccer practice, etc) but it will not be easy (trips to the ER for stitches, broken bones, bringing snakes & bugs into the house). I'm envisioning Double Trouble.

I'm sure I'll be singing a different tune in a couple of months when I'm big, swollen, hot & uncomfortable at the end of the pregnancy, but really - this is when it gets to be fun for me. I'm no longer sick, bedridden, anxious & "stuck". I am so freaking excited I can barely stand it.

Pregnancy Nightmares
I've always had vivid dreams, often waking up to remember crazy adventures in dreamland or being weirded out by strange reoccurring dreams (like the one where I pull all of my teeth out by hand). I had nightmares, but they weren't frequent. Until I first became pregnant.

When I was pregnant with Logan, I had horrible nightmares. I would frequently wake up in the middle of the night sinking into the bed & pulling the covers over my head with a cold chill running down my spine & the pit of my stomach dropping. These nightmares were always gory with headless zombies & the like. The only comfort I found in this was that I would wake up knowing they were fictional experiences, as horrible as I felt upon waking. Although almost everything gave me nightmares, I made sure to limit my TV viewing to non-violent programs (except for CSI: Las Vegas. I still love that show).

Pregnancy in general has permanently altered my brain, because the nightmares never stopped even after Logan was born. They may have decreased in frequency, but not disappeared all together. To this day, I cannot watch a horror movie or I will have nightmares (how childish is that?). Bill has a few episodes of Ghost Hunters on the DVR that I was going to watch the other night & actually started until he stopped me & I thought the same thing - better not or I will regret it.

This pregnancy is a little different in the way that the content of my nightmares is now more realistic than fictional. When I once dreamed of ghosts & goblins, I now dream of car accidents, kidnapings, house fires, home invasions, a cheating/lying husband & other realistic tragedies. Mainly death. These I can't shake because there is an actual chance of them happening, unlike being woken up by the living dead. The most common nightmare I'm having now is that something is wrong with the baby.

Tomorrow afternoon is my 20 week ultrasound where we FINALLY get to see our new family member & figure out a name. For me, the pregnancy will officially feel "real" even though HG, a slowly growing belly & baby kicks have been going on for a while. Logan is coming with us so he can see the baby too. My nightmare is that we find something wrong on the ultrasound or even that the baby is no longer with us. The dream is so unbelievably real, it makes me numb. What makes this nightmare even more unbearable is that we experience this tragedy as a family in the moment, including Logan. I wake up feeling torn. What if there is something wrong? Do I want Logan there? But if everything is OK, I don't want him to miss out on this special family moment. I don't know - it just tears at my soul.

It's hard to escape this reality because it happens. People have miscarriages or stillborn births. I see the threads on parenting boards & blog posts linked around for support. I'm even stupid enough to open threads or follow links to read the stories. Bill has been getting "mad" at me for it (more like scolding me about it).

With Logan's 20 week ultrasound, I don't even think I was that worried about something being wrong regardless if I was a neurotic first time soon-to-be mom. I was just excited to know what we were having. I had seen him on ultrasound at 9 weeks, so the reality had already sunk in. This time I haven't thought about tomorrow too much because for one, I try to not think about it because of the nightmares & also, because I don't have time to constantly think about it being busy with Logan & life. It didn't really hit me that the ultrasound is tomorrow until last night.

I may be in for a long night of either no sleep due to excitement or unease because of nightmares. My stomach is in knots just even thinking about it.

Babies don't always bring families closer together
The family visits with the in-laws are over & besides the annoyance about their ignorance towards Logan's food allergies (they even planned on coloring Easter eggs last night knowing that Logan is allergic to eggs), it was a fairly uneventful week. Uneventful but interesting in realizing how I feel around them (mainly Grandma L).

After burying the hatchet, working on "repairing" an almost completely irreparable relationship & realizing that nothing was going to change after the whole Christmas Card fiasco, I totally gave up. It takes two people to make a relationship work & I felt that the efforts for change were so one-sided it was pointless to keep trying because I was only getting slapped in the face. In giving up, there is a continued lack of trust.

Being around someone I don't trust is much like a cat who's been repeatedly kicked. There may be an effort to be nice a few times, but after getting kicked after every effort, I don't want to be in the same room with them. Pregnancy only exacerbates that reaction.

When planning for this baby, I was up with insomnia worrying about what was going to happen with Bill's family when I was in labor & Logan would be staying at a friends house instead of with them (because I don't trust them to take him overnight & even more so after the events of this last visit). I was (am?) concerned about what we may end up dealing with after the baby is born. Since there is no effort for change, I'm worried about baby snatching, holding them hostage & pretty much every experience I had while Logan was a newborn. If nothing is truly resolved, why expect anything different?

So, my guard is up. Way up. We're not talking about a wall being put up, we're talking about a fort behind a moat. I don't want to share anything about the pregnancy. Sharing is a privilege & I don't think it's deserved in this situation. Plus, the momma bear feelings began much sooner this time around, even before we got a positive test & that intense feeling to "protect" my baby & mostly my newborn experience have me withdrawing from any & all interaction with her. While pregnancy & new babies bring most families closer together, it's the complete opposite in ours.

I've already begun thinking about boundaries & Bill has been pretty supportive of them so far. He supports my desire to have Logan stay with one of my friends while we're at the hospital & he's OK with me not wanting any family visits until 2 weeks after the baby is born. In reality, things are going to be different this time, only because I'm not going to let them happen again. I'm just not looking forward to the typical reactions that are going to happen when people don't get their way.

The first half is an odd time
The experiences & feelings that I have during this pregnancy are almost identical to how I felt when I was pregnant with Logan. There are a few nuances here & there, but for the most part, it's a familiar life chapter. I'm finding myself anxiously waiting for the 20th week bench mark (or there abouts) because the first trimester & some of the second trimester is such an odd time for me.

Hyperemesis aside, I almost don't feel pregnant. I'm still in my pre-pregnancy clothes, I don't have a baby bump (thus the lack of pictures), I'm not far enough along to feel the baby move yet. I've got nothing but a few body changes & 11 weeks of feeling like death. Even though I'm only 13 weeks into this (& technically in my second trimester), I'm having a hard time connecting with this nameless, unknown baby inside of me. Sometimes I forget that I'm pregnant. I felt exactly the same way in my last pregnancy. This is why it is so important to me to find out if we are having a boy or girl.

I need a pregnant stomach to rub & hold. I need a name to associate with. I need to feel the interaction of kicking, hiccups & somersaults. I need a nursery to decorate rather than passing by an empty room. Otherwise, I just feel like my body has been abducted by aliens or I've developed some sort of chronic health condition. It doesn't seem real until these things happen.

It seems kind of silly to keep wishing time to pass so quickly since this is (or should be) my last pregnancy. I'll be at the end of this before I know it. I guess when I actually feel pregnant, I won't want the experience to be on fast forward.

Sometimes I find myself wondering
When Logan is acting up & practically spending the day in time-out, I find myself wondering - what in the hell am I doing pregnant? This isn't going to be easy by any means (not that I thought it would be).

This morning we went to playgroup where we had a lot of fun & Logan got to run around like a wild banshee with his friends. As we were getting ready to leave, he had a massive meltdown & ended up in timeout for hitting me. Then we went to the grocery store where he whined the entire time. Old ladies were giving me dirty looks as I tried to pacify him with samples of popcorn that ended up being dropped behind us like the trail of breadcrumbs in Hansel & Gretel. He was a grump when he woke up from his nap & he was a grump when Bill got him ready for bed. I don't know what the kids deal was today, but it sucked. And then I thought, Crap. I'm going to have to deal with TWO kids like this. What was I thinking?

And the kicker? I hear that three years old is worse than the Terrible Two's.

He was happy a few times today, like at playgroup & when I came home from the gym to see him "vacuuming" the carpet while watching his cartoons with Bill. The cutest was when I was getting ready to go to the gym & was getting dressed in the bedroom. He pointed to my stomach & said "Baby". I was so surprised & it melted my heart. Then he followed that up with pointing to the marks my ever-shrinking jeans made on my stomach & said "color". Thanks kid, but I wish that was marker & I was coloring on myself - I'm just bloated.