Week 34

Well, time for an update.  I'm at 34 weeks.  That means I'm getting there.  But I still have to hang on for at least three weeks before I get hopeful for Baby to arrive, because it might not be good for her to get here before she hits 37 weeks...

I saw the endocrinologist today.  That went better than I had expected.  She told me very strictly I was NOT to lose any more weight.  OK.  I promised to do my very best.  It is hard though.  I'm exercising (which for me just really means: walking Caeden to school, walking various thing to a different and better place in the house, vacuuming, carrying laundry up and down stairs and basically doing any other thing that keeps me ON my feet and NOT sitting down) lots for a woman 8 months pregnant.  All that exercise and I'm not allowed to boost my calorie intake with any 'goodies.'

So, I'm going to try my best to put as many HEALTHY carbs in as many places/times as I can.  This is not easy.  And it is not fun.  It's good that I like challenges, but at times this one seems like it is going to do me in.

Anyway, the endo told me no more losing weight!  But she was happy with my blood sugars.  Happy enough.  And she was very kind to me.  She gave me a little trick I can do.  I did have two reading this week that were .1 or .2 over, but my 2 hour readings were still perfect so she said I couldn't tell anyone (so keep this under your hat) but I could just mostly do 2 hour readings.  She said the 2 hour reading was the most important reading to keep normal.

That made me feel a bit more relaxed about it all.  I will still have to be careful about what I eat, because I know from experience that if my blood sugar goes too high, not even in 2 hours will it be normal.  But it does mean that I don't have to be quite as stressed, as long as I am eating well, my 2 hours should be OK, and I'll never know if the one hour readings were a touch over if I don't take em!

I was very happy that so far, no insulin was needed.  Why is this important?  Well, aside from the fact that I'll have to watch things even more closely on insulin, and aside from the fact that I'm not crazy about doing insulin while preggers (yes, yes, I know tons of women do take insulin and they are fine during pregnancy), the fact remains that if I am on insulin, I can NOT deliver Baby at the Birth Centre.

And I really, really want to be able to do that.  If it is possible.  I LOVE it there.  It is amazing.  And, it is NOT a hospital.  I know some people would find that the opposite of comforting.  Not so much me.  :)

When Joel died, he died at home.  It was a good, good decision.  I'm glad he ended his life here with us at home, and not at the hospital.  Did I mention that I do not love the hospital?  I appreciate the hospital.  It is a necessary evil and I am grateful for what it can do.

But there are two times I don't want my child there.  When they enter the world, and when they leave it.  Oh, if it must be, it must be.  I'm not totally insane.  But if Baby turns out to have PBD, there will be LOTS of hospital in between birth and death.  I just want the beginning to NOT be there if it can be helped.

And I am selfish.  I want those few precious hours to ourselves.  The Birth Centre is just so... peaceful.  Relaxed.  Quiet.  Private.  The lights turn low.  Did I mention the huge bath I can labour and even give birth in?  No bustle of nurses in and out.  It's just so... private.  Yes the midwives are there, but I know them.  And after Baby is born, we can all cuddle up on the bed and be together for a few hours before we have to think about going to the hospital for a blood test.

The other thing on my mind is the niggling feeling that Baby might show up earlier than 37 weeks.  And then the Birth Centre is right out anyway.  Why do I think she might come early?  I don't know, and I hope I am wrong (but so wrong that she doesn't appear until 41 weeks) but I just have this niggle.  Last night, all night, I had some uncomfortable Braxton Hicks.  I know I got them with the other two as well... but I thought maybe they didn't appear until close to delivery time.  But I could be wrong.  I hope so.  If Baby comes too soon, not only will she be born in hospital but then we'd have to stay there for a while.  That would not be so fun.

Mostly, though I just want to have her already.  I look at her picture on my fridge everyday and I can't wait to hold her and see her face.

Which brings me to the last thing I want to say today.  Yes, I really AM joyful about Baby.  No, nothing has "stolen my joy" about her.  Joel's deathaversy is March 23rd, and there it is.  I mourn Joel.  The future is uncertain.  There are tears.  Tears do not need to be cured or prayed away, because tears are not bad.  They do NOT indicate that I have no joy about Baby.  They indicate that I lost a precious son two years ago on the 23rd, and that the future of this girl is unsure and that I have feelings about those two things.

But this Baby is a blessing and I do not forget it.  I am enjoying her everyday.  I spend a good portion of my time, hand to belly, just playing "What is that part?"  Just touching her through my own skin.

And, I offer as proof, the following pictures of the ridiculous amount I have spent buying baby clothes, just anticipating her arrival.  Oh, and some of the items are proof of the ridiculous amount other people have spent too.  I have enjoyed their folly as much as my own!  So I had to include those items too.

Do you think I have enough PINK sleepers??  Oh yeah, this is a baby GIRL we are having!  And we are very, very excited.  Amidst all the tears, mourning, diabetes, and uncertainty, we are thrilled to our bones.

Thank you, to the good God who has blessed us in so many ways.  And who never has criticised my tears, but who has brought me peace in the middle of the storm.

Low Points

Saturday was a new low for me.  Everything seemed to really hit me at once, though of course, it really had all been building up over the last few weeks, or more.

I feel better now, but without getting into too many details here (because some are just P&C), there seems to be a lot to deal with right now.

One of the things I will talk about is the diabetes.  I find that part of this pregnancy to be very, very frustrating.  Because this whole blood glucose thing has gotten very precise and finicky for me.  So many variables, so many little things that throw it off.  And then I'm worrying that I'm going to have to many high readings, and the doctor will tell me I have to go on medication.

For example, I think I figured out that there is a problem with Sunday and what it is.  Because yesterday at lunch I was really, really hungry.  I ate 2-4 inch whole wheat blueberry pancakes, and a cup of cut up fruit on top (NO BUTTER OR SUGAR/SYRUP) and then I had, um... well, I was really hungry so I ate 4 of those little breakfast sausages.  I didn't even have a glass of milk with it.  Which means I should have been eating between 3-4 carbs, which should be OK.

And then after I ate, I went outside and had a nice brisk walk outside for 20 minutes.  I figured I would be fine, but NOOOOOO!  My blood sugar was high. 

So, naturally, I went to the couch and cried on Steve's chest for half an hour, and then I went back and retested.  Guess what I discovered?  Yup, you guessed it.  Lying down and crying does not improve your blood sugar.  So now it was EVEN HIGHER.  So yeah, THAT NO WORK as a solution you might say.

Now I am thinking that it might be that Sundays have been a big problem the past two weeks because I go so long between breakfast and lunch.  Normally I eat at about 8:30 and then again at 11am-ish and then again at between 1-1:30.  On Sunday I skip the 11am meal due to church and I wonder if that is messing me up.  I hope it is, because then I can fix it without needing meds. 

A very good and sweet friend gave me a gift on Sunday.  I'm not entirely sure, but I think there was a subliminal motivational message in the gift.  So I have set it in the bassinet in the living room, and I can easily go look at it before or after my blood test, in case I need too.  I'm going to put up a picture for you.

So, pretty cute, eh?  Though I do miss being able to join in for cookies, or whatever, what I miss most is being able to just eat fruit, as much and as often as I want to.  Because in this pregnancy, I have REALLY craved fruit, but now I am only supposed to have 3 servings a day.  Yes, really, I would eat more than that if I could.  Did you hear me say I CRAVE it???

One of the things that is really hard about this diabetes thing is that it FEELS so much like we've already entered into the world of doctors and monitoring and pokes and medicine.  I know that logically, the diabetes and the PBD are two totally separate and distinct things.  But it feels like I have been swept up into that "world" a full 8 weeks before I ever imagined it could happen.

The diabetes is a small thing, but weekly doctor appointments, finger pokes, constant daily monitoring concern, all that stuff, has really brought to my mind some of the more difficult memories of Joel.  It all reminds me of some of the more painful things.

So on Saturday morning, I woke up from this really vivid, very realistic dream that I gave birth to our daughter and looked at her and saw the marks of PBD on her lovely little face/skull.  And I spent the rest of the day facing that moment, and those feelings.  I don't think that was a bad thing, necessarily, but it was a hard thing.  And I'm pretty sure it was all the diabetes stuff that really brought it on/out.

I'm hoping that was THE low point for this pregnancy, and that the rest of it is a bit better.

And Kara, if you are reading this, I'm going to post up a note to you in the comments.  It's nice to have another person to discuss gestational diabetes with, that is for sure!  So, keep an eye out for it.  :)

Oh, and last of all, I have this song I have been listening to, and thinking about.  It is the words of Romans 5:1-5 put to music and it is really nice.  I am using the song to memorize the verses.  I still have a ways to go.  The part of the song that really hits me is the part that says "... we rejoice in hope of the glory of God, and more than that, we rejoice in our sufferings.  Knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope and hope does not put us to shame because the love of God has been poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit..."

It is a good, good thing for me to remember and hold onto these days. 

Follow up.

I had my follow up appointment with the endocrinologist today.  How did that go?

OK, I guess, if you like follow up appointments.  I realized something today.  I realized that I don't really like doctors or appointments too much.  No matter how nice the doctor is, or if the appointment is very short.  Yeah.  I just don't really like them.  So maybe I am a bit hard to please that way.  I don't know.  My view of the whole medical system is of course, skewed by my experiences with Joel...

Anyhow, I realized I don't like doctor's appointments and I also realized that I am a bit of a rebel.  Yeah, that surprises me too.  Well, not a "cool" kind of rebel, like someone who is the first to dye their hair blue.  I really just mean I don't like people telling me what to do.  It's sort of a problem, actually.

It makes me very much like my son.  His biggest complaint about school is that his teacher is always making him do stuff.  And how, when she gives a "craft," he always has to do it the way SHE says.  I believe we adults would call that "following instructions."  My son doesn't like that.  He doesn't like someone telling him what to do.

The apple and the tree, you might say.  Because that is me too.  Anytime someone tells me what to do (without me asking them), it bugs me.  This little flag pops up, the mail is in!  Yeah, that is probably not a good thing.  So I struggle with maintaining a good attitude when someone comes along with advice and suggestions that are unsolicited.

OK, back to the doctor, and how it went.  I think she was happy enough with my sugars and that I had gotten the breakfast problem under control.  The good news is that I don't have to come back next week, the bad news is that I have to go back two weeks from now. 

Which means: two appointments last week, one this week, one next week (midwife), one the week after... you get the idea.  I'm so totally appointmented OUT!  And yes, in part that is a residual effect of life with Joel, but also I'll bet there are others who feel the same way about appointments very quickly.  I know, I know, I better suck this up, because if Baby is sick, there might be lots and lots of appointments.  Which is why I started trimming them down and saying no to some of those which where most obviously useless...

I guess she wants to see me in two weeks because as Baby and placenta grow, it places more demands on my insulin levels.  Still, I have the number to call if they go up and I can't control it.  I sure wish they'd just send me off on my way and then I can call them if I need them.  But no.  I must go in.

See, I understand those people who just refuse to go to doctors at all.  They have understood an important thing.  Once you go ONE time, they might FIND SOMETHING.  And if they do FIND SOMETHING, you will never, ever be free again.  You will have to keep returning and listening to them, time after time.   Ha ha ha.  (evil imaginary doctor laugh)

Anyhow, except for the part where I have to return in two weeks, and the part where she gave me suggestions for getting exercise (that was kinda like the part where the teacher tells you how to make the craft).  I know, I know, I should LOVE suggestions, but since I've been doing great at getting the exercise to keep down my sugars, and since I am a reasonably intelligent 42 year old who can figure out things like take a walk, chase my son around the house, or borrow a treadmill, yeah, let's face it.  I don't like being told what to do.  Unless I need to put together a piece of furniture.  Then I need instructions.

Silly of me to be peeved at that, at any rate.  Partly my bad human nature, and maybe partly just because I don't like appointments.  And maybe also partly because my BMI came up once again.  And I sort of hate BMI's and question a bit of their validity as it is.  And I was only between 5-10 pounds over normal for my BMI before I got pregnant, and that was partly because my body played a trick on me.

See, I thought that I was 5 foot 7&1/2 inches.  But somehow, over the last 10 years, I have lost an inch of height, but I didn't know.  So I thought my weight was better than it is, until this Christmas when my sister and I had a "whose the tallest" contest and I lost.  It was a little freaky.  I hope I don't have osteo.  Anyway, my BMI turned out to higher than I thought it was, because I turned out to be an inch shorter than I thought!

According to my endocrinologist, though, even 5 to 10 pounds overweight on your BMI is significant and lots of us out there are but we just don't realize it (HINT: that's YOU honey).

Does this all sound like grumbling?  Oh, I thought it might, because I think it might just actually BE grumbling.  But what woman likes to be told she is overweight, and that even though she lost 20 pounds the year her son died, it still wasn't good enough?  Well, not this woman, I can tell you that.

But, on the bright side.  I do have a sense of humour, I hope you could read that between the lines of my grumble session.  And one of the funny things about this diabetes thing, is that I have been praying, in the past year, that God would help me be a better homemaker.  Realizing that I might have some deficiencies.  And since being pregnant makes me feel sick, slow, huge, tired, etc., and then yet I got sick on top of that, my efforts at keeping a cleaner, nicer house were greatly sabotaged.  Which means I lack the will power to overcome these obstacles.

 So, God answered my prayer.  Now I find a great incentive to clean my house, at least two extra times a day.  I'm adding about an hour more cleaning to my daily schedule, just to keep down my after meals blood sugar.  No, to my Mother-In-Law, my house will still not be as clean as yours is.  I am pregnant, and I also have a six year old.  And I'm really not going to pull my fridge out at this late stage of pregnancy.  But I will suddenly have a much cleaner home, and my fridge is next on the slate for cleaning out, even though not under.

Which is to admit that all this diabetes stuff is not stuff I like or enjoy.  No, no.  But still, there is room here for lots of gratitude and for a change of attitude for the better.  We are working on the attitude.  Maybe if I go eat a chocolate, it will improve.  :)  (I'm so funny.)

Thanks for listening to my rant.  And Kara, thanks for sharing your comments.  So nice to hear that I am not alone in all this!  :)

Blood Sugars and Baby Smith

OK, so maybe keep all my blood sugars in the normal range was a bit harder than I expected.  I really thought, since the diet seemed pretty easy for me to follow, and since 5 times a week I walk for 2 half hour periods a day, that my sugars would be fine.

And most of them were.

But my Waterloo is my after breakfast sugar.  I was warned, the dietitian did tell me that morning sugars are usually the killers.  She was right.  I could not believe how high they could go after I ate my totally OK breakfast of, for example, a slice of whole wheat toast and scrambled eggs.  Or my oatmeal, WITH NO SUGAR, just a tablespoon of peanut butter and a dash of cream with cinnamon.  Seriously, it was the cook it for 15 minutes kinda oatmeal as well.  Then I tried half a banana and two hard boiled eggs.

All of them failures at keeping my blood sugar down.  So, today I finally had success!!  What was the secret?  It appears that I am going to need to vacuum or scrub floors, or take things up and down the stairs for about 15 minutes right after breakfast.  I don't normally get that sort of thing going until later.  Normally, I eat my breakfast and then I take my decaf coffee or tea and sit for half an hour or so and do my email and etc.  I love my leisurely first morning pace.  OK, I might be spoiled that way, but it is so nice to work up slowly into the day.

Not any more, at least until Baby comes.  I can't see anyway around it, but to do at least 15 minutes of slightly sweating exercise each morning RIGHT after I eat.  But if that is what it takes, then that is what it takes.  At least I still have my prune juice.  It could be worse.

So, now for the fun part.  Today we got to go to Babymoon Ultrasound for a "just for fun" ultrasound of our little munchkin.  And now I can tell you that I am 100 per cent sure she is a girl.  We got a very clear shot of her "little girl bits."  I can't believe it, but I am really going to be using all those pink sleepers!  It blows me away!

And Baby Smith is already quite nice and chubby.  I'm sure my dietitian, my endocrinologist, and my midwife will all be very happy to hear that news!  Ha ha ha...  Anyway, she has really cute chubby cheeks.  Now I'll watch my blood sugar and hope to goodness she can still fit into that "newborn" size little sundress with the cutest little sweater for her "just been born" photos.  Here's hoping.

But though some of the medical persuasion might feel her chubbiness is suspect, I was still happy to see it.  It just feels nice, and if for some reason she is born early, I know that it is good that she is chubby.  Not that I want her to be 9 pounds 11oz like Caeden was.  Here is my hope: 8 pounds & 6oz.  That is exactly the size I'd like her to be.  :)  We'll see how that goes.

Another fantastic tidbit - Baby Smith has hair!!  I don't have a picture of that, but it showed up really nicely on the 2D part of the ultrasound, a nice little hank of hair just above her ears.  That makes all the indigestion worth it, if indeed it was caused by her hair.  Seriously, this pregnancy I have had the most uncomfortable gas pains in my poor little tummy, and I just kept saying "This child better have hair to make it worth it."  So yeah, she's got hair.

The thing is, the chubbiness and the hair make me think of her as being like Caeden.  And Caeden = healthy.  And it's hard now, not to think of Baby as being healthy.  I mean, in my heart I am starting to feel that she will be healthy.  I guess that is OK.  It's not going to make it any better, really, if I am expecting her to be healthy or not.  The truth will out, and then we will deal with reality.  So I am trying to just be OK with thinking she is healthy and trusting God will help me if I find out differently.

Want to know the funny thing?  After we got home, I lay down for a nap and had a real cry about it.  About feeling Baby was healthy.  Because it felt oddly disloyal to Joel.  And because as happy as I will be if Baby is healthy, it also felt sad because it felt like I was really leaving Joel behind.  I know I am not, it just felt like I was "Oh, Baby will be healthy and we will be in our healthy normal lives again, and leave the world of PBD behind us."  And that actually really hurt.  Because I love Joel so much, and it is kinda hard for me to separate Joel from the world of PBD. 

My thoughts and memories of him include g-tubes.  And cuddly a 2 year old who couldn't sit.  And his tiny little feet that never really grew.  They include a little boy who laughed and smiled but never spoke.  Part of it was therapy, and medications.  It just was. 

 And so yeah, feeling happy at the thought of a healthy baby feels a bit like being disloyal, like saying "I didn't want another of YOU."  And like I'm so glad to leave that part of my life behind.  But really, I'm not.  I mean, if I could choose, Joel would be here and Baby would be here and be healthy too.

I don't know, it is hard to explain.  I never wanted Joel to be sick or to suffer, and PBD meant just that.  On the other hand, if you love someone who has brown eyes, but blue have always been your favorite, do you keep thinking "Things would just be so much better if your eyes could only be blue!"  Would you tell your loved one they needed to get blue tinted contacts?

So I didn't want Joel to suffer. But in the things like the blindness, or the inability to eat or sit, the things that didn't bother him, he was happy and content enough, how could I not just accept those parts and even come to love them?  They were just part of him.  And I loved ALL of him, just the way he was.

Am I happy or annoyed about this diabetes thing?  On the one hand, it is a distraction from all this other emotional stuff I got here.  Keeps me busy with blood sugar, instead of PBD and such.  On the other hand, sometimes I just feel like "Hey, I've got enough going on here without dealing with this stuff too."  As you can see.

There are only about 6 more weeks until Baby comes (unless she actually arrives at 40 weeks, which would make it 8).  That is not too long.  It is hard to wait.

Which is why I am happy to present a preview of Baby Smith.  An ultrasound picture of her (though it won't show the hair).  Isn't she cute?  And she belongs with us....

Finger poky things

Soooooo....

I did my glucose tolerance test about two weeks ago (not the one hour test, the TWO hour one) and had another confirmation that just because your pregnancy is complicated by the possibility of a genetic disorder in your baby, you are not automatically exempted from other complications.

Not that I am complaining.  It could be worse.  It could be far, far worse.  But I tested positive for impaired glucose tolerance, though not for "actual" diabetes.  Which I thought was a big relief.

Until I got to the Dr. today and she told me they would still treat me exactly the same as if I had gestational diabetes.  Urg.  I know, I know, it's all a positive thing.  I get to learn how to eat more healthily and have more motivation to shake my massive belly instead of sitting on the couch and eating cinnamon buns.  (WHICH, I'd like to point out to my SISTER, I WAS NOT DOING ANYWAY.)  Well, maybe the sitting part, but not the cinnamon bun part.  At least, not that often.

Anyhoooo.... I found out today what testing positive for impaired glucose tolerance means.  It means 2-3 times a day I will be poking a finger and using a strip to test my blood sugar level, 1-2 hours after a meal.  At first that seemed like a big downer, but the tiny finger-poky thingy really didn't hurt very much.  Peanuts really, so I don't mind.  And I get this really cool blood sugar tester with these cool strips, and I get to take a couple of tests each day.  I think I am going to be able to pass most of my tests easily, and it's always fun to take a test you can pass, right?

DISCLAIMER:  I feel a great need to apologize to anyone reading this who has actual diabetes.  I realize that you are laughing at me and shaking your head, because your life is way more complicated and if you need insulin you know all about real needles, and not tiny finger-poky type things.  No comparison, I realize.  Now, be kind and humor me as I continue to be silly.

The real good news/bad news part was about my diet and maybe my exercise.  First, the bad news.  I get a whole new food chart.  And on THIS food chart, there is a highlighted section for carbohydrates.  A very large section, because from now until at least the end of my pregnancy, the milk group (excluding cottage cheese and hard cheese) is a carbohydrate.  Also, fruit are a carbohydrate.  Also, more than a cup of beans, peas, squash, etc, is a carbo.  My diet is suddenly FULL of carbs!  :)  And the trick is not to eat more than 3-4 servings at a time.

The good news is that I don't think I'll be changing that much of my diet, as when we looked over some of my "typical" meals, they didn't typically exceed the limit.  Whew.  But I will be adding a protein to my breakfast.  And "treats" will have to be relatively rare events.

And, the really scary part, the dietitian really, really wanted to take away.... MY PRUNE JUICE!  My palms got sweaty and my heart was beating faster.  No, seriously, it happened.  Because prune juice makes my life bearable.  Yes, I have tried upping my fiber.  No, it hasn't made a difference.  Which the dietitian admitted was likely because prune juice isn't about fiber, it had a mild natural laxative in it.  It also, sadly, contains a lot of natural sugar...

So, as a compromise, we are going to try me drinking two half glasses a day at strategic times and I am going to do my darnedest to make sure I still can pass that little test after drinking it.  Which means I am about to eat a tablespoon of peanut butter, drink a half cup of prune juice and walk for half an hour to pick up my son from school, in the hopes my blood sugar stays stable. 

So prune juice is my new dessert.  :)  YAAAAAY!  (that might be sarcastic). 

Everyone seems fairly confident that once baby comes, I won't need to keep being treat for diabetes. 

But the doctor did try and get me to say yes to a study for a support group.  I said I'd think about it, which she correctly read as "No way, Jose."  I know she understood my subliminal, because she proceeded to tell me the good things about being in this study, and having support meetings to lose weight after pregnancy, and doing group walks and stuff. 

I didn't get into it with her, we just left it at that.  But if Baby has PBD, then the only support I'm going to be interested in for that first year will be respite, and someone to watch Baby to let me get any sleep at all, and if Baby is tube fed I'm not going to be able to always toddle off to meetings and group walks and stuff.  I'll have enough meetings and appointments.

And if Baby is healthy, I'm going to be OK too.  When Joel hit two years, we finally had "hit our stride" and I was able to eat healthy, exercise more, and I lost 20 pounds which I kept off.  If it takes me a little longer to lose my pregnancy weight because my life is full of other craziness and I'm at a bit higher risk of type 2 diabetes, so be it.  I'll worry about that when it happens, because sufficient to the day is the evil therein.  So there!  :)

Oh, one last good piece of news:  despite everything else, my blood pressure is totally good!  Whooo hooo! 

Midwife

In a sudden turn of events, I am now under the care of a midwife!

I didn't expect it or even think it was possible at this late date.  But what a blessing from the good Lord God!  It's a bit of a story, so I'm going to leave out most of the details, but a friend of mine who got pregnant a little bit ago was talking to her midwife about me.  And how I didn't get a midwife. 

And her midwife told her to tell me she'd take me on!

So I found out on Thursday night that I was now officially under the care of a midwife.   On Friday morning, my OBGYN's office called me to reschedule my appointment on Monday, and I could just tell them that was not necessary!

My first appointment was today.  Sorry, because I am going to gush a bit, I know.  Again, really sorry in advance.  But it was just such a blessing!  I know that Dr. M. is a very good OBGYN, but I know that the appointment today would have been so very different with him.

Instead, I met my midwife, C. and she is really great.  She asked me to tell her the story of my previous two births, and so I could tell her the story of Joel.  I brought some pictures for her to look at.  We discussed a lot of stuff.  I was there just over an hour, and it was so good to be so relaxed and just talk it all over with her.    I think she is going to be a great fit for our family (and especially me).   It is really hard to explain the difference between this appointment and what a doctors appointment would have been like, if you have never had both to compare.

I had my cry and I didn't have to feel bad or awkward about it.  I know that by the time Baby comes, her and I will know each other quite well.  And she'll make sure I know the two other midwives she works with.  They too will know and understand our story.  This is a great comfort to me.  I will be able to relax during labour knowing that when Baby arrives, I don't have to worry about how a doctor is going to deal with things.

We got a tour of the birth centre and man, is it nice!  The hot tubs are HUGE because they do water births if you so wish.  I seriously think that if I sat in one of the tubs, you could fill the water right up to my neck.  Caeden was impressed too, because when we got home I asked him how he liked C and he said he wanted to have a really big hot tub.  Imagine his disappointment when I had to tell him that would be for me, not him.  The beds are double beds, so that Steve could come snuggle up with me and Baby after she arrives.

Steve was totally sold on the birth centre, but we still have not made any firm decisions either way.  We have some discussion ahead of us about it all.  C let Caeden have the Doppler and he got to put it on my tummy to hear the Baby's heartbeat.  He was quietly thrilled.  Baby had a nice strong heartbeat.  She seemed to be lying head down, but then, she still has lots of wiggle room in there.

And, oddly enough, my blood pressure was still OK.  I can't believe it, because the morning actually started of way short of ideal.  Of course, I keep expecting some sort of stress/anxiety to show up regarding the health of this Baby.  Then there are the other, more common, forms of stress about a Baby coming.  I've been sick for just about a week and I'm feeling awful.  I woke up at 4 am, got back to bed at 5am, and then got woken up again at 6am when a car horn/alarm went off.  I'm congested, and I have a cough that makes my sides hurt.  I have almost completely lost my voice too.  I finally fell back asleep at about 7 or 7:30, and then I was woken up at 8:30 to get ready for the appointment.  We were running 5 minutes late, and then when we got to where we thought the appointment was, there was a mistake and we had to go 15 minutes further.  If there was ever a morning for high blood pressure to show up, this was it!

I haven't been in the greatest of moods since getting sick, and I was really ready to cry several times this morning.  But once we got to the appointment, everything changed.  I love midwives.  We were 20 minutes late and you know, I really believed C when she said she didn't mind and I should never worry about running late. 

OK, thanks for letting me gush on and on about it.  I know it is kind of boring details when it isn't happening to you.  Like seeing tons of wallet pictures of the kids.  But I felt so blessed today, it was such a relief and I wanted to share something good, and say how grateful I am to God for taking care of my needs, and even some of my wants.   And I know a lot of people were praying for me about this, so thank you.

How we are in three words: Lights, Undies, Stamps.

Well, it has been awhile since I posted!  Almost a month!

Baby is now at 27 weeks.  I feel her move lots and lots.  She moves differently than I remember either Joel or Caeden moving.  Steve and I love to play with her when she is being active.  Specially me.  You pretty much see me going around all day long with one had on my belly on a spot where I can feel her.

Caeden and I were playing with her this morning, actually.  We had a flashlight and were trying to see if she'd respond when we shone the light into my belly.  She is somewhere around the age when the eyelids open and the eyes are sensitive to light.  Results were inconclusive.  But it was fun.

And while we were doing this, apparently both Caeden and I were thinking along similar lines.  Because I was thinking "If she has a PBD, I better enjoy this light play now, because I don't know how long it will be possible for her to see and respond to visual things.  (Joel seemed to have some amount of vision all his life long, but after about 8 weeks of age, his visual responses were greatly reduced)

While I was in the midst of this sad thought, Caeden suddenly asked me "What will we do if _______ is sick like Joel?"  (Because we call Baby by her name at home, but Steve really wants her name to be a surprise until she is born and so Caeden and I are trying our best not to give it away.  And I asked him, in a quavery voice, I admit, "What do YOU think we will do if ______ is sick like Joel?"

My faithful little boy answered "We will love her."  "Yes," I said, voice still quavery, "we will love her."  I don't know if he was checking in on me and how I am doing, or if he was reconfirming where we stood, or getting reassurance that things were still OK.  But he has not forgotten that his sister may not be healthy, which I had started to suspect might have happened.  I was glad, and sad, to know that he still understood the tenuous nature of our future with this baby.

I go see my obstetrician for the first time on Monday.  A bit nervous about that, but also looking forward to it, because it means I am in my third trimester, finally.  I'm already huge.  I know I promised pictures, and I really mean to give them to you, but I can't seem to get my husband, me, and the camera all on a good day together.

But to illustrate how huge I am, let me share a pregnancy grievance story.  Oh please, just let me.  It's one of a pregnant ladies enjoyments, so humour me, OK?

True story:  We went grocery shopping last week and my belly is now so huge that even my "Motherhood Maternity" brand jeans refuse to stay up properly.  Which means that as I shop, I am engaged every 3-5 minutes in a undignified and let's face it, humiliatingly uncool two hand under the shirt pants hitch maneuver.

OK, that is bad enough, but I am pretty sure every pregnant lady has this problem at some point.  Here is what added insult to injury.  As my pants are constantly slipping about 1/2 an inch, my underwear are slowly working in the direction of the force of gravity.  Only, when I hitch up my pants, those stubborn undies REFUSE to go up too.  So, as the shopping excursion progresses, my undies are slowly coming into position nicely all bunched up in my crotch.  Yes.  Really. 

And there is a washroom at Superstore, but now I am so furiously annoyed  (a nice way to describe my state of mind) that I am refusing to go and fix this, I stubbornly shop faster and faster just to get out of the store and done with the whole blasted thing.  The good thing thing is, all my shirts still come very far down over my mid-section, so the problem remained obvious only to me.  Ah, the humiliations of pregnancy.  I just thought I would over share them with you.

And last thing to share, I promise.  Today Caeden and I are trying an experiment.  I fear my son is succumbing to that common malady, materialism.  Which often comes out in his tendency to hoard.  And which worries me on so many levels, one of them being that I am more than a little suspicious that Steve and I are both contributing to his materialism by subtle things WE say and do... in other words, maybe we are more materialistic than we think.  OK, I am pretty sure about that one.

But I digress.  Today Caeden had a stamp.  He has asked me a few times now if he can start a stamp collection, a past time I am not against, but my son has also got this tendency to fad-ism.  By which I mean that he buys into any new thing that comes along.  So that he wants to collect "Trash Buddies" for awhile, and then Bakugan is the next thing, then Star Wars Angry Birds and now lately it is Skylander.  Just to name a few.

It seems so obvious in a child, that this tendency is unwise and immature, that it shows a fixation with novelty that does not use good judgement.  So obvious, eh?  But then, of course, look around.  We are waiting for the next version of X-Box, the next fancy TV, the latest in music technology, the new fancy phone/computer/god-machine.  Hey, I don't own a cell phone, but I did get a Keurig.  In essence, that is just a very fancy, glorified coffee maker.  It does the same thing that people have done for centuries with beans, boiling water, and a pot.

OK, that was a further digression.  But you see, my son is falling ill to a malady that is rampant in our country.  And maybe Steve and I infected him...

So, my son had this stamp and then he couldn't find it.  And then at lunch time I prayed a simple prayer "Thank you Jesus for this good food and this good day."  And then my son asked me "Why did you say it was a good day when I lost my stamp?"  And I sat there quiet for a few minutes, frankly a bit speechless.  I'm thinking a lot of things, like "Look buddy, if a lost stamp is going to ruin your day, you will NEVER have a happy day in your whole life" and "Hey, I think it is a good day and I lost a son and not a stamp, bucko."

It might be time for some changes in our house.  It sure is time for some discussion.  So we chatted about the stamp.  We discussed if stamps can really make you happy.  Apparently they can.  I questioned how long that happiness really lasts, and whether it really resides within the stamp.  We discussed what a stamp really has the power to do or not to do.  And I could see I wasn't really making much headway.

Thus I proposed a little experiment.  I found a couple more stamps and taped them to a card.  I gave them to Caeden to put away.  And I said, "OK, our experiment is to see what power a stamp really has.  Let's see if these stamps really can make you happy, if they really can keep you from being lonely, or feeling sad or being bored."  And for almost 10 full minutes my son stood and looked at those stamps.  Then he got bored and went off to play with something else.

I wish I could say that when I pointed that out to him, the light dawned.  No.  Not yet.  But I am waiting for the inevitable complaining or whining or crying that happens at least once a day, at which time I can smugly point to the stamps as an obvious cure.  :)

At least, at this age, the lesson is simple and somewhat immediate.  It's a lot harder to convince a 16 year old that happiness does not reside in the newest phone or a new car.  In fact, it is hard sometimes to convince ourselves.  And maybe, sadly, for a lot of us, happiness HAS come to reside in these things.  Thank God for my son.  Thank God for my son, because raising this child points out my own hypocrisy and foibles.

I hope that the next time my coffee maker breaks or we decide not to afford a new gaming system, or going out for dinner, that I remember that it is still a good day.  Because it is.