Weeks 32-35: Catchup

I kept hoping I would be able to write up these last few weeks individually, but naps, summertime swimming, new-home bills (I always forget that it costs extra money to set new stuff up in the new place!), and potty training Jules (among other things) have taken up time and/or brain space, and suddenly here we are at the 35 week mark. Which feels both SO CLOSE and SO FAR from the big finale when we meet our babe.

We've been in San Antonio for a month(!) now, are pretty well settled into our town house, watching the progress of our adorable grown-up cookie-cutter house as it goes up (its framed and getting wired--drywall next week!), slowly exploring the surrounding area, meeting people and working on making friends, and eating REALLY GOOD Mexican food and Texas-style BBQ. Even not pregnant, I LOVE eating, so, yeah. Yummy food=happy preggo. Steve has also started work as of this week, and is acclimating to his new work environment and feeling much more confident about the whole being-an-attending thing as he's been able to get his feet wet now. Even though he wears scrubs at the hospital, he leaves and comes home in full ABUs 

(camo) and his military grade boots are usually kicked off at the foot of our bed.

Steve has taken advantage of the time off to take the big kids on nearby adventures. Last week the three of them went to Sea World and saw a ton of shows, rode a bunch of rides, and came home soaked to the bone, happy, and exhausted. This week he took Grace to an enormous, wonderful water park called Schlitterbahn. Next week he's taking Charlie, who is so excited that he made a count-down calendar. :)

While they were out, Juliette and I went to Target, watched Peg + Cat, and ate ice cream for lunch at a Baskin Robbins she has been eyeing.

After weeks of trying to get every form filled out with t's crossed and i's dotted correctly, we finally got our first paycheck from the military (HOORAY!), which made it possible to get down to nesting for this little bundle. Most of our baby stuff got packed away in long-term storage (whoops) so we've had to start fresh a bit. We are loving how minimalist we feel compared to our first time around as parents, though. It's great to know what we actually need and use instead of feeling pressured by the crazy amounts of baby stuff available.

When the house is finished she will have her own nursery with a real crib and furniture, but for now we just got what we really needed, plus a couple of extras. Insurance paid for a breast pump (WHAT!? YAY INSURANCE!), and almost all the rest we got off Amazon, either with a killer deal on Prime Day or using our 15% baby registry discount. I like lists, so here is what we got:

• Pack-n-play
• Pack-n-play sheets
• Boppy
• Travel-size baby swing
• Nursing cover (awesome full-coverage one from here!)
• Pump, nursing pads, + milk storage bags
• Bottles
• Burp cloths
• 3-pack SwaddleMe blankets
• Car seat
• Light-weight stroller

The first part of the haul arrived early in the day, the second part came in the evening. It was like baby-registry Christmas. ;)

And this week we also made a run to Carter's to pick up a few sets of clothes (our newborn stuff is all packed away), which are all now hanging adorably in a prominent place in our closet, looking precious and tiny. And Steve hung one little set of onesies on our wall so we see it whenever we walk into our bedroom. :)

Baby's sibs are starting to get REALLY excited. Charlie talks about her all the time, gives my belly a hug every night before bed when he gives me one, prays for her (and "for Mommy not to be pregnant") frequently, and sat happily for ages holding our friends' baby boy last night.

Juliette has been talking a lot about her, too. Every time we pass something baby related in a store, she tells me it is for our baby and wants to stop and look at it. She's also got her own baby in her tummy, so she's excited for both our babies to be born and sleep in a crib together. (Presh.) She shows me sometimes by sticking her stomach out against mine and saying, "BIG BELLY!" And a few days ago she made "a scribble" for her sister and presented it to my stomach, presumably to be accepted and admired by our baby girl.

As to actual baby/pregnancy stuff, I met my new doctor our second week here, and she is fantastic, which is such a huge blessing. I've already met with her twice. Baby girl is looking good, head down, heart rate between 130s and 140s. And based on my past history of big babies, Dr. Olvera has already promised us an induction date of September 2nd (the exact 39 week mark). Steve and I are both really excited to have a guaranteed baby day already set. We've even got countdowns on our phones. :)

Symptom-wise, I'm doing some better and some worse, but overall I feel like I can get through the last few weeks, which is a comforting feeling. My panic attacks are almost non-existent, thank goodness, and the anxiety is fading. I'm definitely feeling a general sort of down-heartedness and emotional exhaustion, both of which make sense to me based on the state of my tiny, very pregnant body and the roller coaster we've been riding since the beginning of the year. I'm mostly only able to combat this by trying to stay in the moment and not think ahead much (beyond planning for the things I HAVE to plan for, like registering kids for school and making plans for delivery). I'm having trouble falling asleep, trouble focusing my mind on prayer. Restless legs. Some *ahem* consistent unpleasant stomach troubles. Swollen feet and growing cankles. Increasingly strong Braxton Hicks. Shortness of breath (even just reading aloud!). Still have enough nausea that I have to chew gum, take Unisom at bed, and eat lots of ice (this helps--and we've started buying the AMAZING kind from Sonic... Sometimes I just stand in the open freezer door and eat ice right from the bag. It is SO. GOOD.). The worst is (sorry, but this IS a pregnancy blog) the intense pain in my pelvis from the weight of this girl on my 4'10" frame. It is very, very sharp and bad, and similar to the pain I had carrying Charlie.

Overall, I'm just trying to be gentle to my body, rest a lot, move slowly/gently, and keep a good attitude. This is a season. My family is happy and growing. And there are baby clothes in my closet and a swimming pool right outside our front door. Pretty good stuff.

Weeks 30 & 31: Homeward Bound

Oh weeks 30 and 31. So many feelings. So much change and adventure.

The movers came for our things on a Monday (the last week of June). It was AMAZING to have someone pack us. Amazing. They had everything boxed up and in their van in a matter of hours. And then we were left with an air mattress, our pillows and blankets, our TV (priorities), and a couple of camping chairs. The kids wasted no time in making lots of new games with their wide-open space.

This was Steve's last week of work, which meant lots of hard goodbyes for him. His last shift was an overnight leading in to my 31st birthday. He came home after a long night and promptly made me a lovely breakfast in (air mattress) bed. :) Happy preggo mama.

We had planned to leave on Sunday, but after a few days in our empty apartment, we decided we might as well make an early start and spend an extra day somewhere with furniture. So Saturday morning we packed up the remainder of the apartment, I did laundry and packed suitcases, Steve ran a couple errands and said some last goodbyes, and then we loaded into the car. It was surreal leaving Winston-Salem. I definitely didn't internalize the fact that we were driving away and not coming back. It was just too odd after 7 years of living there. But that was how we commenced 5 days of travel, 1,300+ miles.

But oh, sleeping in real beds every night?! THE BEST.

We stopped in Charlotte first, and headed down to Atlanta the next day. We ate at Flip Burger there (YUM) and Steve and I were very happy (the kids preferred just watching movies in the van). From there we hit Biloxi, MS, Lake Charles, LA, and then (at last!) we made it to San Antonio. Travel was challenging (I had to stuff a bunch of diapers and a water bottle between my back and the chair to try to keep the preggo back pain at a minimum, and breathed through many a panic attack during the drive) but Steve made sure we took lots of stretch breaks and ate snacks and lunches, and we took the second half of every day to just chill out in our hotel rooms.

Still, we were VERY happy to pull up to our (temporary) town home on the final travel day!

WE MADE IT!!!

That night we ordered pizza and ate on the floor and were very happy.

And the next day the movers arrived with all our stuff. CHAIRS! BEDS!!!! Comfort and luxury!!! Oh, we were happy. Steve had to go get his in-processing started at the base, so it was on me to do whatever was required. The big kids played Legos upstairs while Juliette and our baby-bump helped me track inventory.

And that night we all slept on mattresses, and that was very, very happy. <3

Week 29: Critical Mass

I'm going to admit right off that I never, ever took a physics class, so it is possible that I am using the term "critical mass" incorrectly. But I'm going to go ahead and take some liberties with it because the words "critical" and "mass" are pretty much describing what's going on around my middle. On Friday, after months of being pleasantly surprised that I was having little to no back pain--suddenly: CRITICAL MASS. Big baby. Small mama. Third trimester. It's happening: back pain and difficulty standing for long periods of time.

Also, a couple times I almost tipped over! : O

All this makes sense, because my Babycenter app assures me that this little bun is 17 inches long (!!!) and about 3lbs (!!!). And since she is a Walton baby, she may be a little bigger than that by now. She is not a crazy one so far--she has calm times of day where I just feel her shifting and fidgeting, and busy times when she is kicking and punching and doing somersaults. She's usually the most active in the evening, which is funny because when Steve and I lay down for bed she usually punches him in the back for a bit.

My brain/soul are doing a little better. Steve reminded me gently that feeling overwhelmed and low are par for the course during my third trimesters. We've done it before, we can do it again. But it is definitely hard to face the possibility of months more feeling panicky/anxious/depressed at this level.

Neil Gaiman is quoted as saying, "I like stories about women who save themselves." I love that as an idea. I love the concept that anyone can save themselves. But the older I grow, the more chances I have to recognize that sometimes the only way to "save yourself" is to not try to do it alone, to not do it yourself. To ask for help. It's been a big lesson for me this pregnancy. There's nothing wrong with it. In fact, asking for and accepting help is one of the best ways to form deeper and more meaningful relationships. It's laying yourself bare. It's allowing others to prove their strength to themselves by letting them share their gifts and talents. It's showing humility and gratitude and humanity that makes other people feel better when they reach their own low points.

When I get myself up and going again, when I'm writing more and working more and mothering better and my hormones and brain chemicals are less whacked out and I've just got things a lot more together--when that happens and you hit a low point where you feel like there is just nothing left to keep you going, you remember that I felt this right now. At this happy, exciting time of moving, growing up a little more, expecting a beautiful baby, my heart has felt worn and broken and I have felt lonely and lost, anxious about my future, grappling with a sometimes almost physically paralyzing anxiety. You remember that, okay? Because after that part, it gets better again. I know its going to get better again. (And I even got a little reminder in my instagram feed last week.)

And while I don't feel great, I feel a little less overwhelmed. I asked for help, and tried to use my resources:

I asked my doctor if we could increase my dosage of Lexapro, and she and my OB agreed that yes, that would be a good idea. We will see if that helps, but its good to have a couple of lifeboat options, and that seemed like a logical place to start based on my history.

I scheduled a couple last appointments with my wonderful counselor, who totally gets me. Last week we talked about how my traumatic experiences during Charlie's birth (stuck baby, nurse pushing on my belly when I was told to STOP PUSHING, lots of lost blood, low APGAR, baby taken away for observation) was shaping my imaginings of what this birth could be like. They were pretty violent and distressing. She helped me work on reframing, and that has been helping.

I bravely called an OB office in Texas and scheduled an appointment with a new doctor. (And had a panic attack while I did it, but whatever. Done is done, even if you have a panic attack.)

I emailed a therapist friend from church and asked about coping techniques for panic attacks.

I tried to get to the gym as often as possible--a break from the kids (and for the kids--they love playing there), endorphins (yay!), and cardio and strength training to prepare myself a little more to keep carrying this heavy little lovely.

And Friday we just had a perfect family day. We took the kids to the pool after quiet time. The water was perfect and Steve launched the big kids into the air over and over. Juliette finally got confident enough to try some swimming in her floatie without holding someone's hand and kicked all around the pool. And in the last few minutes of swimming the sky opened up and a summer storm came down on us. We waited a few minutes under an umbrella and then decided we already wet, wearing flipflops, and perfectly dressed for a walk in the rain. So we walked home and splashed in a million puddles and laughed so hard and were entirely soaked and happy when we got back to the apartment.

And that night Steve and I cleaned ourselves up and got all fancy, left the kids with a babysitter (thanks Mandy!) and joined a huge gathering of his colleagues for residency graduation.

I remember being pregnant with Juliette at the very beginning of residency, and how awed we were that she (still gestating!) would be the same age as Charlie was then (2.5) by the time Steve graduated. It seemed so far away but it went by SO quickly.

Baby girl, when you read this know that you were there (in bump form anyway) for the culmination of your Daddy's long and challenging and wonderful medical education. He did an AWESOME job, little one. You would be so proud. And he is so, so excited to meet you. We keep talking about how cozy you will be, and how sweet it will be to touch your soft little baby-fuzzed head. I'm hanging in for you, for those moments when we get to cuddle up together in just a few months. We're in this together, okay? And you've got a whole team of siblings eagerly awaiting your arrival. (Charlie especially gives you multiple hugs everyday.) Keep on keeping on, and I will, too.   xo

~

p.s. I had my final doctor visit in week 29 and forgot to add it. It was a quick one: tummy measured, urine sampled, quick chat with a doctor, and the distribution of my medical record print-outs so I'd have something to take with me to San Antonio. Stats were as follows:

Stats (as of doctor appt):
Weeks pregnant: 29 weeks, 4 days
Baby's fruit/food size: Eggplant / Butternut Squash
Net weight gain: 26 lbs
Doctor visits: 7
Cups peed in: 7
Blood draws: 5
Ultrasounds: 6

Week 28: Clinging

My body + brain have never been above throwing curve balls into the mix. We are about two weeks out from packing up our apartment in NC, road tripping with the kids for four days, and setting up in a new (temporary) apartment in San Antonio, Texas. I'm 28 weeks pregnant, pretty much constantly exhausted, 20 weeks in to being nauseated (though much less so than the first trimester, thank goodness!) and my hormones are almost certainly kicking in to high gear. I'm Braxton-Hicks-ing at least once an hour. My sides are starting to get sore from holding baby girl's home in place. And I'm growing out of clothes that fit in my previous pregnancies.

So I guess it shouldn't be a surprise that my clinical depression and anxiety have leapt to unconscionable levels, but I have to admit--I've been surprised. I've been trying to eat better, sleep more, exercise regularly. I've taken everything but the essentials off my to-do list. I'm trying to live in the moment, release my worries about the upcoming months, and focus doing one task at a time and on enjoying right now. I've been praying and praying and praying.

But still this dread plagues me. This heavy shroud of darkness sweeping in towards me from the horizon. It doesn't seem to help that I know rationally that it isn't real. And the anxiety. I struggle to fall asleep, my body always restless, my brain filled with terrible possibilities, my dreams upsetting and unsettling.

I'm having panic attacks, which I can't remember having more than a few times in my entire life up to this point. Last week I had three. This morning I've been trying to just live through a long, stretched out one. Trying to accept, not fight. Trying to breathe when it feels like I can't get enough oxygen into my body. Trying to be a functional-enough mom to my littles while Steve works.

I had a similar experience when I was pregnant with Juliette, but I didn't recognize it for what it was. So now I've got a request in to my doctor to tweak with my medication (she needs my OB's approval, which I hope to get this week) and my fingers crossed that if they do change my dosage, it will make a difference. Or that something else will make a difference.

Our baby girl is strong and wiggly, and measuring large. I feel her all the time , but she is especially active in the afternoon and evening. I'm trying to remember the way I felt when Juliette was born: how I thought If only I'd known it was YOU, it would have been so much easier to endure well! I'm trying to trust that that feeling will surge back through me when I meet this new little girl. That maybe then I'll understand the purpose of the pain and the fear and the seemingly endless stretches of time spent waiting, feeling alone, wondering if I can get through the next wave that crashes down inside my heart.

Week 27: Dr. Appt + What People are Saying

Three months to go, and my baby bump is NO JOKE. In the last few weeks, the commentary and expectation from strangers and casual acquaintances has increased significantly.

At church:

"You're any day now, aren't you?!"

and

"Are you carrying twins???"

At the gym:

"How much longer do you have?"

and

"Girl, you're about to pop!!!"

At the pool, with the other three kiddos in tow:

"Is this your last?"

I know some (most?) pregnant women get offended by these types of comments, but I guess I can see where everyone is coming from. I look about the same as a girl from our ward did the day before she delivered. Maybe bigger. And also, I'm kind of a big believer in the idea that we choose to be offended. None of these people was meaning to be rude. So I save my irritation/anger for stuff that really ticks me off, like inconsiderate drivers and Time Warner Cable.

Another doctor appointment has come and gone--the second-to-last one before we move. When my doctor asked me how I was I told her how worried I was about all the change and transition coming up in the next month. She took it all to heart and kept hugging me throughout the appointment.

It was my glucola visit! It was just as terrible and nauseating as I remembered, though I did request the orange this time, which always helps. Orange is better than fruit punch. That day they stuck me thrice on the left arm: once on this way over-bandaged finger for an iron test (below), once in the crook of my elbow where they extracted three vials of blood to check for gestational diabetes, and a third time to give me a vaccination.

The nasty power-punch of sugar threw me off all day and I felt queasier than usual. But the phlebotomist thought it was funny when I promised to "try not to wuss out on [her]" while she drew my blood, so that helped. :)

The rest of the week was a blur! We had a pre-con phone conference with our contractor in TX (are we really building a house?!), lots of kiddo swimming lessons, Steve's last night at the DEAC volunteer clinic, Gracie's last day of school, and a trip to Richmond for Steve's 3rd Tough Mudder race. Super busy, super fun, and a great way to usher in the summertime.

Stats (as of doctor appt):
Weeks pregnant: 26 weeks, 3 days
Baby's fruit/food size: Head of Lettuce
Net weight gain: 20 lbs
Doctor visits: 6
Cups peed in: 6
Blood draws: 5
Ultrasounds: 6

Weeks 25 + 26: Lightning

Gracie-loo took my 26 week photo for me. I almost photoshopped out the sock in the doorway, but I decided against it. Socks on the floor are pretty representative of our household at this stage of life. NOT because I am pregnant, but because that's just where everyone who's not me puts socks. Its hard to write that without coming off as a little mom-bitter haha. Oh well. Suffice it to say: the sock stays.

These last two weeks have been heavy and hard. Steve's worked 11 shifts in a row with only one day off. He's so tired he keeps falling asleep on the couch (which is not his jam) at random intervals. Its wearing on him to say the least. Tonight is his last shift in this run, and then things will settle down a bit as far as work goes.

And for me, this puts my focus squarely on trying to keep it together enough that the kids and Steve are fed and feeling loved. It sounds so easy, but it feels so hard. Every load of laundry, every half hour spent planning meals, every evening cooking and making sure my littles get scriptures, prayers, vitamins and medicines before bed: it all takes an incredible force of will. Because I am tired. And my heart is heavy. And I miss my sweetheart.

One night this week Juliette started bawling at the kitchen table and then projectile vomited right onto her dinner plate, still untouched and full of food. Gracie dove under the table like she was doing an earthquake drill. Charlie just wanted to talk about throw-up. I didn't panic or even feel anything, really. I just cleaned up my girl and put her to bed, cleaned up the table and ate with the big kids. I'm feeling again that hard and weighty part of motherhood: that I have to just do it, because there's no one else there to do it for me.

Last night when I lay in bed alone trying to fall asleep, I felt this big blockage in my heart: this massive black boulder of CAN'T. I can't do this. I can't do 14 more weeks, progressively harder as I get heavier and more tired, still feeling sort of sick even with gum in my mouth. I can't take care of my babies alone like this while Steve starts work at a new place (which is going to be hard for him because new stuff just feels SO BIG, you know?) in a city where I know virtually no one. How can I make new friends when I can barely take care of myself and my family? How will I find someone to look after my kids when I go into labor? How can I take on the impossibly terrifying challenge of delivering--which, since Charlie's scary birth, has stricken my vulnerable heart--in a hospital I've never seen, with doctors who have only known me for a few weeks? I can't do those things, when even the logistics of getting the kids to the pool/library/grocery store in my current state overwhelm my brain. Everything feels dark and huge and impossible.

I lay there in our room and tried to pray about all this. Rain was pouring down outside and the blinds kept lighting up with lightning flashes, again and again. I didn't know where to start. I asked Him to carry me. I don't know how He will. The big black boulder hasn't gone away. I know He will get me through, one day at a time.

But I wish it felt easier. I wish it felt more purposeful. I wish there was someone beside me all the time, whispering in my ear, "You're okay. You'll stay okay. This is all on purpose, and it is all good." Maybe there is, but so far, I can't hear it.

Week 24: Jetsetting

This is just a nice selfie of me. Where I don't look tired. Because I'm not. Because this picture was taken ON VACAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!

Earlier this month the babes and I cashed in on my (fantastic) Christmas gift from Steve: a trip to see my med-school bestie! I hopped on a plane with a backpack loaded down with books and snacks (ALL FOR ME!) and many hours later I was hugging my Suzi in the PHX airport. And the fun started right there. We didn't even go home--we went straight to In'n'Out for dinner, followed by splitting a delish Biscoff + strawberry topped dessert at Waffle Love. (If you live near one, go get one in my name. I'll take the calories for you. I'll just hide them in here:)

For five days we shopped! (Old Navy! H&M! Charming Charlie! Anywhere we wanted at the Scottsdale Mall! And Nordstroms' Last Chance, where I got these two pairs of flats that retail for about $100/pair for $35!)

We ate! (Kneaders! In'n'Out! Waffle Love! Paradise Bakery! Sauce! The Soda Shop! Cafe Rio!) 

We met up with friends (hi Amanda!), got pedicures, and saw not one but TWO movies! (And they were both good!)

We watched good TV (all of season 1 of Grantchester, and a new version of And Then There Were None that had us really jumpy).

I took lots of naps and ate lots of ice.

I called/texted/sent selfies to Steve so he knew the baby bump and I were okay.

And when I got to the airport at home (after promising to try to make this a repeat occasion--next year, maybe?!) all three of my babies wrapped their cute arms around me at once and I just felt filled up with gratitude to have these loves of my life. (Who all, miraculously, felt worth the effort of pregnancy when I help them at birth--and that reminded me that this one will, too.)

Best girl trip ever. <3