I know I said I wasn't going to blog again, but I've actually had a few confused friends because of some loose ends I left on the last blog. So this will be short and sweet. I'll even use bullet points.

• I have officially been relinquished and banned from using the term "High Blood Pressure" in my OB's presence, under threat of public ridicule. I have been officially diagnosed with white coat syndrome, and when my blood pressure is taken manually, it's even considered borderline low. I have been assured that there is absolutely nothing to fear when it comes to pre-eclampsia, or even gestational hypertension. There's been blood work and multiple urinalysis tests to confirm those results. It's such a huge weight off of my shoulders, and so comforting to know that I truly know my body. The wonky readings I had a few weeks ago have been attributed to stress and taking it too many times in a short period of time. Basically, my OB laughed out loud when I told him the "elevated" numbers I was experiencing and said "I think my resting blood pressure is higher than that." SO, that scare is over.

• This baby is content where he is. I was so convinced that he was going to come early, but the contractions and symptoms of labor are far too sporadic to even convince the doctor to check me. We have a C-Section scheduled, and he told me that if I went into labor before then, Jesus was going to return. It's basically just what every pregnant woman wants to hear at 38 weeks and miserable, obviously. There's no medical reason to induce, despite all of my suggestions to sway his judgment. I am officially the most pregnant I've ever been, and it's so, so hard to keep a good attitude when I'm almost a week past the point of my last delivery. I was initially fine with him staying in a little longer, because Ella, but I'm just done. I've tapped out. I'm trying so hard to get out of the house and make the days go by a little faster, but I think it's just going to feel like the longest wait of my life any way we do it. But the end really is near. Truly.

• Why yes, those are the baggiest sweatpants in the world featured in my bump picture. The elastic on my jeans finally gave out after 38 weeks of holding on, and this cheapo isn't about to drop a ridiculous amount of money on more pants. This is probably a good thing, because I always have the hardest time letting go of my maternity pants. They're like real life spanx. And I was still wearing my maternity shorts when Ella was almost one, because they're not super short and don't require me to dance into them. Those are both great attributes in shorts.

I think that's all. This really will be my last blog. Here in a couple of weeks, the clock will run out and this baby will be evicted. And I'll probably be sappy and sentimental about never feeling a baby wiggle around my belly again... but right now, my ligaments and bladder have suffered enough abuse for 38 weeks, and they're letting me know that it's time. It's time. Bring me that horizon. Take me to the place where babies are birthed. Bring on double diapers. Forget about sleep. I want the baby toes and cheeks to chew on. These are a lot of really short and incomplete sentences. Sorry, fellow grammarites. If it's any consolation, I'm saying most of them in a "Jack Sparrow" accent, and exclamation points would probably be better suited for the ends of the thought, but that would imply that I have energy, and I just really try to keep things real on this blog. 

Until the end, my friends.

Weeks 32-36

I'm going to attempt a weekly section this go around. I don't necessarily mind blogging at this point, but my 18 month old is in a fun new "I run the show" Phase, and alone time to blog is scarce. That being said, here we go.

Week 32- The highlights of this week involved seeing Earp for the last time before delivery, and Ella eating chicken for the first time. Moms of littles all over facebook rejoiced with me, either because they remembered the joy that accompanied a baby willingly eating something you put in front of them, or because it gave them hope that maybe someday their own child would partake in protein. She hasn't been super interested in it since, but let me tell you, we've added the chicken finger recipe on the back of the bisquick box to our weekly menu. It's a hit all around the house, and super easy for my pregnant swollen self to crank out in a hurry. Thrilled. Even now, I rejoice at the thought that she ate TWO chicken strips. Two. Bless it. As for Sweet baby Gaines, the sonogram informed us that he  is thriving and significantly larger than his sister was at 32 weeks. This could mean we're actually farther along than we thought, or he's just a big kid. I'm way more relaxed this go around, and unfortunately that means that my eating habits are as well, so I'm thinking the latter. My body has been good to me, and my weight gain has been small at best, considering that at my 32 week appointment I had only gained 10 pounds. They've "guesstimated" Earp to weigh 5 pounds and 3 ounces, and I hear that your uterus and water sac and all of that junk weigh up to 8 pounds by delivery, so I'm pretty confident saying that I'm "all baby." He looked perfect, a mirror image to his daddy, and breech. I guess at this point it's a good thing we already had that c-section planned.

Week 33- This week has sincerely felt like the longest week of my entire life. I think it's partially because I know we're really still too early to be "in the clear" in case of an early delivery, but close enough that I'm starting to get irritated with being pregnant. Sweet Ella knows that something is weird with Mom, so she's been uncharacteristically cooperative this week. She's eaten all of her meals, figured out new words to communicate with (Diaper, bottle, and juice topping the list,) and has honestly just been a dream. Sure, we still have an occasional meltdown, but perhaps the greatest thing about my third trimester hormones is that I literally have no problem giving her a "Seriously?" And walking away. I don't try to talk or reason with her, and these tantrums are growing shorter and shorter. Almost to the point that she let's out one frustrated shout and then immediately sulks in her ballpit. As for Earp, he's still as hyper as he can be, and it doesn't matter if I'm active or still, he still does all of his best tricks. Fortunately, and I'm not even shy about admitting that I pray it continues, he seems to be pretty quiet for most of the night. I don't really get awakened by any of his movements at night, so I'm either exhausted and in a coma, or he doesn't move much. Granted, all it takes is a gentle tap or a belly rub to wake him up and get the party started, but I've learned not to try those things until I'm ready to get up.

Week 34- Well, I kept waiting to hit "the wall" and I finally found it. At some point this week, I woke up and decided I was sick of being pregnant. It probably has a lot to do with my exhaustion, since I've consistently woken up at 5 AM for no reason at all every day this week. By the time I start feeling tired again, I get a tap on the shoulder and a sweet little "Hi!" From my morning baby. I hit the "wall" at full speed, and I'm still lying around whining about it. I'm not totally sure why, but my body has started releasing ridiculous amounts of relaxin this pregnancy, and my body feels like it's been hit by a truck. You would think that it would be nice for this nifty little hormone to come in and soften all of your ligaments and basically everything that can possibly stretch during pregnancy, but it actually has made my body extremely sensitive and more prone to aches and pains. I'll leave out some of the other gross that has plagued me this week, but just know that I have been whiny, teary, and all together miserable. I'm honestly trying to adjust my attitude and finish this gig strong, but right now, I'm just big fat over it. Sweet Ella is being so patient with me. It's like she knows that we're coming to the end of whatever is going on with Mom, and she's been great to play quietly by herself (as long as she can see me), or save all of her whiny needs for when her Daddy gets home to help me with them. The nesting instinct is strong this week, but only the desire to clean... not the energy. My mom promises we're going to tackle the big projects before he gets here, but I think by "we," she means "her."

Week 35- It's so funny how things change.  I truly swore that last week was going to be that one "miserable" week of pregnancy, and then I would suck it up and move on. Well, apparently last week was a foreshadow to this week. Y'all. I'm so tired... everything hurts, I'm having first trimester tired feelings, and I can say with total honesty that it feels like my body is tapping out on me. I did okay for the beginning of this week, but Cody finally got to witness that sobby snot fit that I swore I wouldn't throw this pregnancy. It's hard for him to try and be gracious and say "Can you tell me what's wrong? Can I help you? How can I make it better?" and have me just hang in my head in sorrow and say "I Don't know what's wrong! Everything is wrong!" Today, even though I feel like I'm not going to make it another day of pregnancy, I'm so thankful for a sweet husband that just holds me while I cry and promises that we're going to get this baby out soon. I'm thankful that I'm able to sit on my couch in my pajamas and watch Ella learn new tricks, and still be able to laugh at her throughout this misery I've embarked down. I'm thankful for parents who force me to give my baby up for a night, on the premise that even if I don't sleep, I'll rest. Yes friends, we're in a growth spurt at the Gaines, and Ella's baby legs can't keep up with the speed of it all. We're on night three of shrieks of pain, and last night, a night terror was even thrown into the mix. So Ella is staying with my parents tonight, while I stay home and watch my blood pressure. Yes. I said it. While certainly not in the "danger zone," it is certainly elevated compared to the past 35 weeks. I can only attribute it to the stress I've felt lately, but I absolutely dread going to the doctor next week and breaking the news. After an entire pregnancy of perfect blood pressure, I have to go back and say "Hi, so it's a little elevated." Ugh. Irritating. I'm sure my blood pressure spikes every time I think about it. Bleh. Oh well! We really are almost done, and hopefully the end of this stretch of misery ends soon.

Week 36- I am so, so happy to report that we made it through whatever I was going through. I think it was a mixture of me knowing that we still had well over a month before we were "full term," but also knowing that our chances of baby being totally fine were like 9 out of 10 if he was born. I don't want my words to be twisted, so I'll clarify that I was not, nor am I praying for an early delivery, but I promise you, the way I felt last week, I was positive that labor was imminent. I just knew that I was going to wake up in the middle of the night and say "Oh no," and head to the hospital. It was that bad. I think the biggest problem over the past couple of weeks was the fact that the baby is breech, and we were both extremely uncomfortable because of it. I don't know if he's turned or just recognized that maybe he's not going anywhere, so he's stopped trying. We currently have a C-Section scheduled for 39 weeks, but as the pregnant one carrying this baby, I'm predicting we won't get there. I don't feel like we'll have an early baby, but I also don't see us getting that far. Maybe he'll surprise me and stay put, but I very, highly, seriously completely doubt it. I'm having too many painful contractions that aren't braxton hicks, and the overall sense of sudden relief I have in my lungs and ribs just have me convinced to be prepared. Of course, having said all of that, he'll probably decide to make me look a fool and stay right where he is, but that also wouldn't be the worst thing that ever happened. Ella is trucking along with us, and even though we're pretty much done with this whole gig, she actually appears to be coming around to the fact that there's something going on in my stomach, and has started kissing it before she goes to sleep at night. It MELTS me. To the core of my soul. She's also become excessively clingy lately, which is one trait that I'm not used to at all. She wants to be in my lap or in my arms every second, which makes me wonder what kind of "vibe" I'm putting off. It's all very strange, but very sentimental for this Mama. Though I will clarify that once Cody walks through the door, I'm dead to her, and those two are the best of friends for the duration of the evening. Sweetest Ella. A Daddy's girl with a sweet little soft spot for her large mother. The worst part of this week was that I got hit with a stomach virus. I don't know where I picked it up, but it was horrible. Like, I couldn't keep water down, people. I was so thankful when my body finally stopped heaving and evacuating itself after 6 straight hours. After an additional 24 hours of a headache, fever, and body aches, it cleared up, and I was able to eat toast and white rice for two days without irritating my stomach, then I finally felt like myself again. I had the world's cutest baby shower during recovery, but I've already blogged about that. So I guess that wraps this week up!

Well, that's the end. It's so weird to know that we're done with the pregnancy side of this blog. I know that in some aspects, this has been a whirlwind of a pregnancy... but on the other hand, I'm ready for it to be done. The last 6 weeks of pregnancy are so hard for me. I wouldn't say that I'm totally thrilled about double the diaper changes and double the loss of sleep, but I will say that this hyper little baby in my belly has completely captivated me. Ella was the greatest baby outside of the womb, but I had such a hard time connecting with her in-utero because she just never moved. I'm so anxious to kiss the toes and see the sweet little elbows that keep me awake at night. Plus, I hear boys are just obsessed with their Mamas, and I feel like it's my turn to be "the favorite" around this house. I've earned it. I'm excited to nurse and cuddle that sweet little newborn face, like, I'm so anxious to smell the top of his head that I practically weep just thinking about it. If you think that's weird, you've never had babies or never been around a newborn. That's all I have to say about that. Anyway. This is it. The next time I blog, I'll be introducing a sweet little boy, and I hope he looks just like his Daddy. I don't even care if he has hair. I have enough food to clean out of Ella's everyday. Also, he BETTER weigh more than she did, because other wise I've walked around with this huge stomach for NOTHING. Yes, I'm way bigger with him. I put my two 36 week pictures next to each other to compare. I can't even discuss it anymore... but here's Baby Earp and I at 36 weeks!

The Baby Shower

Today, we celebrated our sweetest baby Earp's arrival with a diaper shower. Honestly a dream come true for any mom, but especially one that will have 2 babies under 2 years old in diapers. It's a new part of our lives that I can't say I'm looking forward to, physically or financially... but we're going to make it. We'll survive. I think...

I've always heard that 2nd baby showers are "tacky" and "in poor form," so I didn't originally plan to have one... even though I found it extremely unfair that I was going to tell my kid "Oh, you were born second, so you didn't get a shower. Sorry." And honestly, if this were another girl, I probably wouldn't have had one. But this is my son, and he is my last baby, so I know it's my last shower. So when my sweetest friend Melissa said "What are you doing for your baby shower?" and I mentioned that I probably wasn't having one, she basically said "You are an idiot, pick a date." So I picked a date and recruited two other hostesses. I told them not to make it a big deal, not to spend a lot of money, and that I wasn't going to register anywhere. I also forced Melissa to theme the whole shebang as an outdoorsy baby lumberjack charade, and to say that it looked like something straight out of pinterest was an understatement. It was incredible. My heart was so proud and so full for everyone to see it. 

That's just a small sample of the cuteness that ensued at this shower. It was simple, yet still each detail was thought through so intricately that it makes me dread the day that I have to help throw a shower for them, especially considering my house looks like a cemetery for failed pinterest projects. 

*INSERT PICTURE OF SISTER-IN-LAW LEXIE, WHO RUNS AWAY FROM CAMERAS AND YELLS AT ME FOR POSTING PICTURES OF HER. THANKS FOR BEING A HOST, LEXIE.*

It was a wonderful day, preceded by chaos. I came down with a stomach virus on Thursday night, and immediately sent Ella to my mom's. I writhed and suffered all day Friday, and we almost had to cancel the whole shebang. I'm so glad we didn't, but we did have to exile Ella from the party, which is why there aren't any pictures of her. She's a child of familiarity, and she doesn't like it when that's interrupted. So it made me sad, of course, but it is what it is. I didn't get many pictures because I still wasn't feeling like myself, but if you came to shower, thank you so much for being there and celebrating with us and not finding me too tacky with my second shower. If we're being totally honest, I hate showers of all kinds. I don't go when I'm invited, and when I'm the center of them, I get really anxious and tend to hide in the kitchen or the corner. I won't lie and say I'm not relieved that we don't have to have anymore showers, but I also won't lie and say that I didn't enjoy today. I'm so thankful that we had the opportunity to celebrate this sweet baby that could honestly choose to join us whenever he wants to. It was a special day for me, and a real special day for our diaper budget. 

***disclaimer*** This was an extremely small shower and we only invited a handful of people, because once again, I didn't want to look like a greedy Gertrude by sending an invitation if we really don't talk much. It was just something I wasn't comfortable with. The end.