Weighing In

I had to go see my family doctor yesterday. Cause, yeah, I'm sick. Again. (I have just come to the conclusion that my adorable little alien inside me is using all my good stuff and there is no immunity left for me, the host. But, whatever.) So yeah. I've got a sinus infection--and normally I would load up on Sud.a.fed and be done with it but probably not a good idea right now. So I went to see the family doc. Anyway, as is normal protocol at the doctor's office, I had to get weighed. It's been a few weeks since my last appointment at the OB's so I wasn't quite prepared for the number that popped up on the digital display. 150 pounds! This may not sound like very much but considering I was 124 pre-pregnancy it seems like a big number! I know it's not. I know, that at 5'10" my 124 lb frame was probably considered by most to be underweight. I know that all this weight gain means my baby is thriving and that I am putting on the appropriate weight and fat stores to sustain this pregnancy and (hopefully) breastfeed once the baby arrives. But whoa.

I can certainly tell that I am carrying around a lot of weight that I'm not used to. The other day Mister and I went out to a concert and we had to climb a somewhat steep flight of stairs to get up the amphitheater entrance. I was feeling the burn! And a little out of breath! But I also got a kick out of how Mister held my arm the whole way up. I mean, he often holds my hand or we walk arm in arm when we're out, but this was different. It was more of a protective, I-don't-want-my-pregnant-wife-to-fall sort of embrace. Awww.

I have also noticed some additional up-sides to the weight gain. My face is definitely a little fuller. Less of that gaunt look... and I may be crazy but I swear I look a little bit younger. My face has plumped up just enough so that those wrinkles are not as noticeable. At least to me. Maybe I'm wearing rose-colored glasses. And then there's the boobs. For the first time in my entire life I actually have cleavage. Woo hoo! Mister doesn't mind it, either.

So, anyway, I guess as long as Dr. Wunnerful is happy with my weight gain (and he is) then, bring it on! Cake anyone?

Tired.

My boy doesn't like to sleep. Well, apparently, that's not entirely true. Apparently, the days he is at daycare-preschool (3 days per week right now during my slow work season, aka, winter) he can't wait to get into his cot at nap time. He is the first one in and the last one out. He is a power napper. At daycare. That is probably because the other days of the week, he is WIDE AWAKE all day and Will. Not. Sleep. Not for anything. And he has this thing about 5:30 a.m. Yes, somewhere between 5 a.m. and 6 a.m. is where he awakens. Probably because he is power napping at daycare 3 days a week. I don't know. I am so tired right now, I feel like my eyes might bleed. It doesn't help any that I've been sick as a dog all weekend with a really bad cold (boy am I glad I got that seasonal flu shot--hope that saves me from what could be worse than a bad cold). Also, I'm nearing the start of my third trimester. And, while I can think of very little to complain about regarding this pregnancy (I confess, it has been pretty darn easy, so far, knock wood) I am tired. I'm carrying around an extra 25 or 30 pounds I'm not used to and, you know, I'm growing a human. So, I'm starting to get really, really tired. Like. just-start-crying-in-the-middle-of-the-cereal-aisle-for-no-good-reason-tired. Yeah.

So I wish my kid would sleep.

I have come to the conclusion that our son and Mister and I are not energetically matched. I know HM is a BOY. And he's two (almost 3) so by definition he is high-energy. But, I'm talking about something more than that. I believe that we are all born with an innate sort of 'energy-personality' type. For instance, Mister and I are fairly matched energetically. We are both somewhat homebodies, even though we do enjoy being social. We just have to remind ourselves that we actually enjoy being social and then force ourselves to go out and do it. Otherwise, we might never leave the house except for work and trips to the grocery store. We like relative quiet. Before we had kids we relished rainy weekends where we could pull the couch out into a bed, watch movies for hours, and eat popcorn and be totally lazy. We both seem to really operate best when we've had at least (AT LEAST) 8 hours of sleep. 9 or 10 would be preferable.

It's not that we're lazy. Though it might sound that way. We both work really hard at our careers. We both do a lot of work around the house. We just operate at a sort of low frequency most of the time and it takes a lot longer for us to recharge our batteries, so to speak.

Our son, on the other hand, I believe, is just one of those people who is the complete opposite. (Good for him!) It will serve him well in life, I think.

But it is exhausting.

I totally don't know what I am going to do when the baby comes? I'm sort of freaking out. I'm so so so tired NOW, what am I going to do when I'm up every two hours every night to feed a screaming baby? Help....

I Shouldn't Be Resentful

I called my mom the other day to wish her a happy birthday. She was in good spirits and we had a nice conversation. She asked me about my pregnancy and due date, etc. (I've told her my due date before but I have to repeat things many times for my mother). Then she said how much she wants to try to get up where I live when the "Big Event" happens. (She doesn't drive further than a few miles from her home--and that's a good thing). I said, yeah, I'm trying to figure out what we're going to do when the time comes and I need to go to the hospital--we'll need someone to come help out with Handsome Man. She then reiterated that she hoped she could come and be there and help out. (Side note: I don't know how much actual help my mother would be...but the sentiment was nice) But then after I hung up the phone I started thinking....That's really nice but where the F*ck were you when we brought home Handsome Man?? I'm pretty sure we went a couple of months before she even met her grandson. She wasn't in any rush to get up here then... and then I think when she did finally meet him it was because Mister and I drove down there. I know, she doesn't drive, yada yada, but if she is willing to make arrangements (to get a ride with my sister or brother in law or one of my nieces) to get herself up here when the baby is born, then....well, I'll say it again: Where the F*ck were you 3 years ago? Sure we'll need even more help now because I'll be recovering from childbirth, we'll have an infant AND a toddler. And I will not say NO to any help that is offered, just out of spite. I know I shouldn't feel resentful but I do. Even though I didn't give birth to Handsome Man, he was our First Born, and I just wish my mother would have acted as excited for his homecoming as she is acting about this baby on the way.

Again, I know I shouldn't complain. My mother is showing interest in my life and my family and that is a plus. She is expressing a desire to come and be involved and that is saying something for her... Maybe it's just hormones making me crazy.

There's Not a Book for That

Handsome Man has several books that have to do with adoption. He especially loves "Tell Me Again About the Night I Was Born." He asks me to read it to him several times a week. When I read it to him we talk about the night he was born and all the excitement Mommy and Daddy had, how we couldn't wait to see him, about Eryn, about the first time we held him in our arms. I'm not sure how much of this information sinks in...he's two years old, after all. But, as far as I know, Handsome Man believes that Mommies and Daddies get on planes and go somewhere to "get" their babies. Now, as my belly is growing, we are talking more and more about "the Baby." We are trying to talk to HM about being a big brother. We have to keep reminding him to be gentle with Mommy, and careful around her tummy, because "there is a little baby in there."

How confusing is this to him, I wonder?

I want to prepare him for being a big brother, and there are plenty of books I can get on that topic.

But, they don't make a book for our situation (or do they?) We adopted you (mommy couldn't make a baby in her tummy). Now you are going to be a big brother. There is another baby on the way! But this one is growing in Mommy's tummy. Um, yeah.

I'm trying not to make a big deal out of any of it, and certainly not drawing any comparisons between the origins of HM and 'Baby on the way'. It would probably go over his head anyway. But what about later? I'm trying to prepare myself for questions... I just wish they made a book for this one. (If you know of any let me know).

Thankfully, Mister was adopted, then had two siblings who were born into the family. So, you know, thank goodness for that. In our family it will seem run-of-the-mill. I hope.

A New Decade, A New Chapter

Happy 2010 everyone. Wow. I can hardly believe it. I have been thinking a lot today about where I have been over the last 10 years. What were your highlights and low-lights over the last decade?

Highlights:

2000: Opened my own floral shop

2001: Started dating Mister

2002: Sold floral shop and started my event business. Got engaged to Mister!

2003: Married! We had a beautiful wedding...

2004: Bought our house (for better or worse)...

2007: Our son was born and we finally became parents through open, domestic adoption

2009: Well...most of you know why 2009 was a banner year!

Notice anything? Isn't there a big gap between 2004-2007? Why? Well, all I can conjure up in my memories about those years have to do with the struggles of trying to conceive, our failures, our miscarriage. The diagnosis. The despair. The toll it took on Mister and I each personally, and as a couple. Those are years I will never get back. All in all, over five years of what I think of as "the Infertility Years".... half of a decade. It makes me sad to think of all that time that was wasted feeling sad and hopeless. But how could I not? I feel badly about the friendships that went by the wayside--because I couldn't deal with watching my friends' dreams come true and their picture-perfect lives unfold while I felt as if mine was falling apart. I feel guilty about not being 100% whole for my son. All those times my depression got the better of me.

But none of this is new news. Anyone who's read my blog has heard it all before.

Today starts a new year. A new decade, and hopefully, a new era in my life. I am excited about what the year has to bring, and not bitter about the year I am leaving behind for the first time in years. Even though there is so much to worry about or fret about (the economy, my dwindling business, where we're going to put this baby once it is born, how we're going to pay for everything, etc...) I do not feel worried. A little overwhelmed some days, but not that worried. I feel satisfied. For the first time in a long time I have faith that 'everything will work out.' I don't feel like I'm walking in quicksand anymore.

If the 'aughts were my decade of struggle may the tens be my decade of satisfaction and contentment. That's not too much to ask for right? Haha. I am wishing love, happiness, and fulfillment of dreams for all of you my Internet friends.

If you would like to scroll down, I've included a few belly pics, if you are so inclined. If not, I will leave you here. Happy 2010.

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About 17 weeks