My back is ready for this baby's eviction date. My hips are fighting me every hour of sleep of each night. I cannot breathe on my back. My ribs are thrilled and awaiting freedom from a certain baby boy Gaines' feet. These are the days that are simultaneously the hardest and the sweetest about pregnancy. I have loved and adored every second of this baby's acrobatics. He has been so faithful and consistent to move for me, day or night. It was the absolute worst thing about Ella's pregnancy and it has been a dream come true not to deal with a quiet baby this go around. I'll admit that sometimes I yell "GO TO SLEEP" after enough jabs in the ribs, but I mostly obsess, grin and giggle over those sweet rolls and kicks. I'll miss it so badly, and there's something about knowing this is my last pregnancy that makes savoring these moments all the more important.
Kaylea, don't be silly! You need at least one more baby! Three is a good number!
No, YOU need one more baby. Two has always been our plan, and two is where we're comfortable stopping. Also, pregnancy is not for the faint of heart, and two babies in two years has done me in.
I'm already so tired of hearing those comments. "Don't make any rash decisions after the baby is born!" or "Just give it a year or two before you make any permanent decisions!" Um. Thanks for all of your thoughts and plans for our lives and finances, but it's really, truly okay with us if you stop offering them. I know it's just my hormones making it ten times worse, but I feel that the lack of boundaries around pregnant women is something that should be addressed anyway. Maybe I'm catty, maybe I'm just in a bad mood... but it's something I find little tolerance for when there ISN'T baby in my womb, so there's that. Moving onward.
It's been a good month. A slow month, but good. My 28 week appointment was the dreaded glucose test, and like I said last time, I don't have a problem with the drink. Would I PREFER a
Comparable amount of sugar compliments of my favorite holiday themed Starbucks? Yes. Would I PREFER to drink a giant Dr. Pepper? Yes. But it's also not the end of the world that I didn't get those things. This go around, I was given "fruit punch," which tasted almost exactly like Hawaiian Punch. Well, the way I remember Hawaiian Punch. Not exactly something I keep stocked in our pantry. I had the drink finished in our five minute timeline, then spent the next hour having a regular checkup and chasing Ella around the doctor's office. Maybe it was the exercise, maybe it was me expecting to come back for the 3 hour test... All I know is that I passed the one hour and I. Was. Pumped. Do you understand the torture that would've ensued if I had taken Ella to a 3 hour glucose test? I was in tears just thinking about it. I was so, so relieved. Baby Gaines was rewarded with chick-fil-a and a big fat Dr. Pepper. Because cravings.
Ella has been on a tyrannical rage this month, but she's been forgiven, considering I found four molars and 2 other belated teeth in her sweet swollen mouth last week. It was almost a relief, like "Oh! These raging flashes of psychotic bi-polar tendencies aren't your personality!" She was instantly forgiven for a wide range of sins. She's been a sweet, cuddly, talkative little girl since we got the molars through, and though I'm beginning to see glimpses of the crazy coming back around, I would prefer she cut whatever teeth she can while Earp is still in-utero. Maybe she'll magically have all necessary teeth by his birth, and my sweet angel baby will be ready and willing to accept her brother without a single ounce of jealousy. No? Delusional? Fine.
Ella still doesn't do much eating these days. She eats cheerios and yogurt every morning without a fight, but the rest of the day is a hit or a miss. We went through a four day period of consistent macaroni eating (one meal per day), but she now hates macaroni and cries hysterically if I even pull it out of the cabinet. We're working through all sorts of things. Eating is one of them. I've grown increasingly relaxed about it. Maybe it's the third trimester, maybe it's just accepting our reality. It is what it is. I have it written all over this house. We've made it this far, right? Surely the day is coming that she asks for seconds and I laugh at the days that Ella wouldn't eat. Or I say "Ella, you cannot have anymore broccoli or your bowels will explode and we will all be subjected to that torture. No more broccoli until you're completely potty trained." No? Delusional? Fine.
Christmas came and went. It was a slow beginning of the month and an insanely fast paced end of the month. Kind of what I was expecting. Ella was a total party pooper when it came to gifts, and refused to open or acknowledge a single one. The highlight of her Christmas extravangaza was a ball pit that we
I feel like this blog is super vague and lacking in details. It probably isn't, as I tend to overshare details when it comes to these things, but if it is, it's not intentional. Truth be told, my heart is so content and so at peace right now that I wish I could extend this joy from now until I take my last breath. I am married to a man that loves me through the ugliest days of my life (one can only tolerate so many days of pajamas and messy buns full of hair that isn't the cleanest it's ever been.) I haven't dyed my hair since June, my roots are a disgrace. Makeup is a chore for me, therefore rarely gets put on my face. But that man makes me feel like a queen. I know he probably misses his wife that cared. I know he would probably prefer a wife that didn't sigh "Ugh. I have to wash my hair today. It's been like 3 days" once a week. In retrospect, my hair is way healthy and shiny because it hasn't been charred and burnt to death by various heated irons in all shapes and sizes. He makes me feel wanted, loved, cherished, and pursued, and I can't wait to get my motivation for general hair hygiene and beauty products back. I have a beautiful 18 month old baby that is so full of life, giggles, and joy that I very rarely find myself exhausted by her existence. She has a temper like I've never seen, and I'm sure my genes contributed to it, but I can usually laugh through it. Are there bad days? Definitely. But most days, I can't get enough of her, and I have a feeling that's never going to change. She has a Daddy that is absolutely mad about her, and chooses to love her, and spend time with her... which only makes my heart swell to three times its normal size, because I know how blessed we are to have him. My husband comes home to us every single night, we eat dinner at our table together, we don't play on our phones or watch the television while we eat. We're there, present, and engaged with each other throughout the meal. We're renovating this precious little house we've fallen in love with it, and in spite of an occasional "I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE SHAPE OF THE CABINET DOOR!" from me, and a "I cannot begin this kitchen if you keep changing your mind." from him, it's a house we're building together. And raising our babies in. I cook dinner for my family and get extremely upset if it doesn't taste the way I planned. It gives me pride and honor as a wife to do those things for my family. I am a terrible housekeeper. If you showed up unexpectedly on my doorstep, I would weep because of the state of my house. I wouldn't let you past the dining room. There are toys, infant clothes, and overall stacks of "Needs to go upstairs" all over this living room. There are dishes in my sink and my stovetop burners would make Julia child weep. I have a real problem with letting the water boil over the pan and misjudging pasta amounts for dishes. It is what it is. This is a life that I never imagined living, but always hoped to find. Does that make sense? I feel like it doesn't. I am in love with this sweet little life, and to imagine that we're bringing another baby that we made into it NEXT MONTH... I can't go there right now. Too many hormones. It's a brand new year, but I hope that our routine stays mostly the same. I have no complaints or need for change.
The next blog post will be my last before I introduce our son, and THAT is insane to think about... but at the same time, I still have another blog post before I can introduce our son. Meh. Here's a bump picture from somewhere over the past 4 weeks!
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