Good Enough

It is 3:18am here in the Northwest, and I cannot sleep.

This could very well be my last chance to sleep for a solid 4 hours for the next year of my life…but instead of sleeping, I’m sitting here, waisting time. I’m not even trying to be productive. The kitchen could use a final clean, my bag could be packed, I could shave my legs in a nice warm bath…

But instead I’m just sitting here. Daydreaming. Actually nightdreaming technically. It is dark outside, which makes it officially night, according to my kidlets.

In a few hours I will be anticipating a phone call, telling me I can come in and start the process of having this not so wee one I’ve been carrying for the last 40 weeks.

It’s been a long 40 weeks. Of course, I don’t have to tell you all that. You’ve been reading. Or you’ve stopped reading, because you just couldn’t handle the ramblings of an emotional pregnant woman.

I’m excited to meet this new life. My mind is already bent on it. Perhaps that is why I’ve been so utterly bored for the past few weeks. I’m ready for phase 2. I’m ready to hold, and feed, and cuddle and change.

I’m ready for the whirlwind that will be four children under one small roof…

I’m ready to be active again. To run, wrestle, jump, dance, and especially stretch out on my belly.  I miss yoga.

I’m apprehensive, life is always such a miracle, and I know it happens everyday, but there are so many things that go wrong as well. I want everything to flow perfectly.

I look at Mr.Good in awe. He looks so young. He just turned 31 on Saturday, (not that that isn’t young,) I’m ten months older, but I feel like it was only yesterday that we were pregnant with our oldest. He’s 7 now. It’s gone by in a blink.

I remember a night much like this 7 years and 2 months ago, when my water broke. Mr.Good and I were standing in the bathroom laughing, wondering if it was really happening. No contractions came but my bag leaked all night. I stayed up watching TV and he went to bed. He’s always been able to sleep through the excitement. I don’t get it.

I’ve never been able to sleep through anything…except movies…anyway, 3 more hours and I’ll be expecting a phone call telling me to come in. So maybe I should try to close my eyes for awhile?

Goodnight all. 

Lately I get the feeling that my children are seeing the belly come first. It can be very intimidating. My oldest son keeps making comments like “not bad for a pregnant woman…” whenever I actually get something accomplished, like cleaning a room, or laundry, or dinner.

It’s getting rough, I won’t glamorize it. I think I’ll be living in sweats for the next week because nothing fits me anymore. Even if I can squeeze into something proper to wear out in public, it squeezes my lower belly the entire time causing frequent trips to the bathroom.

My belly wants to hang free and easy right now.

Getting out of bed, or a chair has become a comical performance.

Shaving my legs or clipping my toenails is a joke…and I can’t control any gas that may escape when I’m in your presence.

I HAVE NO CONTROL OVER MY BODY, PEOPLE!

But that’s okay.

7 more days…7 long days that can separate the woman from the girl.

I’m realizing that my guilt about bringing another child into the mix, and being stuck home afterwards has caused me to schedule everything I can fit in for my kids in the next three weeks.

Yes, Pony Camp, Swimming Lessons, Berry Picking, Log Shows.

I’m leaving no room or energy to clean my house and prepare for the new one.

Park Day exhausts me.

Driving exhausts me.

Sleeping exhausts me.

And my kids are running out of clean underwear and forks.

What is a girl to do?

Breakfast: Honey Nut Cheerios

Snack:       Graham Crackers

2nd Snack: Snickers Bar

Lunch: Amy’s Organic Enchilada Meal

Snack: Kettle Chips and Pumpkin Pie with Lots of Whip-cream

2nd Snack: Grapes

Dinner: Stroganoff and Broccoli

Dessert: That is yet to be decided, I enjoy it more when the kids are in bed. I think I’ll go for the Haagen daz Almond and Chocolate dipped Ice Cream Bar.

Happy Eating Everyone! May you enjoy your food as much as I do mine!

One of the “perks” of this pregnancy. I think it’s a sign I’m having a girl. My body seems to like carrying females better than males.

Males make them droop. Immediately. Within minutes of becoming pregnant.

This became clear with my first pregnancy.

I had always been on the smaller side. Nothing I ever complained about, I was a dancer, a B cup. They were perky.  Sometimes I went without a bra and no one was the wiser. About three months before my wedding they grew a whole cup size. I was very pleased. I was the proud owner of C cups and still they could stand on their own.

My new husband and I had all the eagerness to start a family quickly and 1 and 1/2 months after our wedding the stick said positive. And my lovely girls drooped. IMMEDIATELY. I’m not kidding. It was a sad and weird time for my body. No one warned me that would happen. And after nursing Buster for 9 months they never returned.

Until I became pregnant with Missy. They re-inflated, and were as beautiful as ever. I loved being pregnant with my girl. My skin cleared, I didn’t get the back fat I had with Buster, and the “girls” were fun to have around again. I’m just saying.

Well I don’t have to tell you that Bubba came along and they left again. I thought maybe it was a fluke. We chose not to know the gender of the baby. But he came along and I began to notice the pattern.

All I’m saying is they’re back again. I’ve missed them. I know they won’t be around for long because I only have about 9 weeks left.  

Saying goodbye will be hard.

Hello.

I’m back.

I had a lovely vacation with the family last week. We went down to the OC and stayed with family. We took a couple of days for Disneyland. It was really nice. The weather was perfect, the beach was empty. And we survived both 19 hour car trips.

Other than that I’m growing more pregnant by the minute so my brain is still not very sharp. Friends and family assure me my facilities will return eventually.

So I’m actually multi-tasking at the moment. I’m on the phone with my Group that I chose to have the baby with. I don’t really love my Doctor so I’m negotiating a switch. It’s kind of an uncomfortable situation because I don’t mind trying someone else in the Group, I just don’t really like my Doctor…Why do I feel weird having high expectations when this woman will be birthing my possibly last child? I don’t know. I’m one of those people that never likes to bother the waiter, never complains about bad service, (although there was that one night I was trying to get the 7th Harry Potter book and Safeway closed early on me.) But I guess a Doctor should be different.

I’ve heard excellent things about midwives, but people, I’m just too far along to bend that way. Three children born the same way in the same situations, it helps a girl know what to expect.

So I finished my phone call. The staff was very accommodating and sweet which made me all the more embarrassed to be a hassle. But tomorrow I will meet with the new Doc. She’s older, wiser, and apparently always running late because she’s a good listener. Sounds more up my alley.

Wish me luck that I don’t run into the old one while I’m there. Talk about awkward! 

 This morning I began noshing on my box of chocolates around 8 am. I left the bed to make breakfast for my children, a duty that takes about 30 minutes. I think I went back to lay in bed and nosh some more after an hour.

I was tired. Of course I was tired. The hours were ticking by and my body had nothing healthy to burn. But for sake of my experiment I continued my chocolate fast.  Children came in and out of my bedroom wanting me to frolic and play. I tried to conserve what little energy I had. 

I lasted until 1pm. Lunch rolled around and it was then I knew the woman, especially a pregnant one, cannot survive on chocolate alone. So I had some licorice and a pre-natal vitamin.

Glory.

Finding myself in line at the OB/GYN behind three other women…all pregnant, all being handed a little sticker with their info which will later be placed on their very own cup full of ur*ine.

It’s just too hilarious. What was curious to me is that no one was laughing about it.

We were like robots.

“Name?”    

“ Eve.”

“Doctor?”

“Dr. Soandso.”

“Time of appointment?”

“ 3:30…”

“Here’s your sticker. The bathroom is down on your left. ”

“uh, thanks?”

I’ve never seen an office so bumpin’. I’m telling you, it is the age of babies. Women are having them. (Well obviously the men aren’t.) But I’m seeing all kinds of women coming through those doors with bumps on their fronts. It’s quite comforting. And funny. Maybe I’m just weird.

But “here’s your sticker now go pe*e in a cup” is a strange way to be greeted on a Friday afternoon.

It was over six years ago that I held my first baby. I remember it hitting me so clearly in a way I could never comprehend before I had children…As I looked down at my beautiful baby boy the weight of the world came crashing down around my shoulders. I then realized what I had done to myself someone that I loved so deeply that I now couldn’t imagine life without him. With that realization came some fears that I had never before comprehended.

I was almost angry with myself when I realized that if some thing horrible ever happened to my son, it would be earth shattering. The thought was overwhelming. And honestly it made me rethink having anymore children.

In life there is balance in all things, and this new love that I had never felt before came new worries that as a brand new mom I almost couldn’t handle. What if he got sick? What if it was some thing terminal? What if he was kidnapped? Selfishly I wondered if it was smart of me to create some thing so precious that it would nearly kill me to have him taken away.

I’m a fatalist deep down inside, like my Grandmother. She’s been saying for the past five years that this is her last Christmas, or birthday, or it’s probably the last time she’ll get to visit with us before she passes on. Grandma is still going strong. Whether she likes it or not, she will be around for the next few great-grandchildren.

I watched a movie with my girls last night that reminded me of my little families mortality…which is really what brought about this post. I couldn’t help thinking throughout the movie what would happen to us if my husband died…my first thoughts were… “I don’t want to be out in the dating scene again!”  What would I put in my bio line? “I am now a widow with four children…will someone come swoop in and rescue us?”  That came because I’ve been searching for my little bro. And then other thoughts like, “there will never be anyone good enough to take his place.” Thinking about my husband and how absolutely perfect he is. Then my thoughts wandered to my children. I pictured all of their beautiful faces, and the pain they would hold if they ever lost their father, or me, or each-other.

I thought about mortality. With each child we bring into this family, it adds a new dimension. The love deepens. It’s a love that only parents know, we get to be in this special club with this intense emotion wrapped up in the package. I love my husband, I love him fiercely. But we would never know how intense love could be until we took that leap of faith and added a child into the mix.

I can’t help questioning my sanity sometimes as I look at my children and think about the new one coming, why did I do this to myself? I will have four precious jewels that can never be replaced and are extremely fragile. Am I crazy for adding one more into my life that will probably add more pain and worry then someone in their right mind could handle. Maybe I am. But I realize that there is balance in all things. With another child comes even more love and more joy then I can ever put into words. I know you people feel me on this one. If I let my fears of death and pain stop me from creating what I have in my life now, I would have never known such happiness. It’s so worth it.  

I had to do it.

I had to go ahead and make the appointment.

This pregnancy needed to be officially validated, and I was tired of waiting for The State to decide if they were going to insure us or not.

Yesterday I had a very unpleasant conversation with one of the State Employees. She was extremely unhelpful and annoyed. “They expect us to be accountants.” She said. “We are not accountants. I can’t understand all these receipts.”

“Is there somewhere where we can all sit down together and go over them?” I asked.

“No. We are a virtual company. There is no office…I”m going to have to look at all this after work. I don’t have time to do it here.”

“You don’t have time to do work at work?” I asked. That goes to show you what a well-oiled machine our Human Services Department is.

So today as I lay staring up at the ceiling and trying to remember to breathe, dollar signs began flashing on the florescent lights in front of me.

One Pa*p Sme*ar…cha-ching!

We need a sample in the cup please…cha-ching!

Let’s see if we can hear a heart beat…cha-ching ching!

One Blood Sample, seven tests ordered for no good reason…cha-ching!

I found myself saying “No, we don’t need to test for any extra abnormalities. Just the basics.”

“How about HIV?”

“No, not necessary. I’ve had about 5 or 6 in my lifetime. They’re always negative.”

“How about AFP?”

“I don’t think so. I mean what can they do if it’s a positive?”

“Nothing.”

“Then no.”

“What about genetic testing.”

“That’ll be a no as well. It sounds pricey.”

But hey!  If I paid up front at the office I received a 10% discount! How’s that for good news?

No, the good news is they did find a heart beat. I love to hear that sound each time I go in. It reminds me that it’s all worth it. No one can really put a price on our baby. Though I did leave the office with a considerably lighter wallet.

Meanwhile back at the ranch I forgot that I had three children from two different families coming over for my weekly babysitting swap. 

“Uh Mr.Good? On top of getting Buster off to school and taking care of our 2 youngens, while I’m at the baby doctor’s, there will be a few additions…Zach and Zoe will be here at around 9am…Bella comes around 9:20 xoxo luv ya!”