29 Weeks

After a week in Wisconsin, I think I must have done something wrong. At my appointment this week, I’d actually lost a little weight. The midwife wasn’t overly concerned for now, especially since I had submitted a diet journal (started after I got home, of course), which did show how much and what I’ve been eating every day. Baby’s growing, measuring good, has its head down already. My iron was a little low, so I’ve been recommended to eat more red meat, leafy greens, all that irony protein stuff. So even though I’m just feeding myself and my boy every night for dinner this week, I’ve been trying to add some meat to our meals.

I’m feeling heavier, a little more tired. But I’m also crossing some stuff off my to-do list in preparation for baby. The big thing now is arranging for someone to be around for M during the labor and birth. I’ve got a few options, so hopefully with the help from a few kind and generous individuals, I’ll have a plan, a backup and maybe a couple of other backup options.

M has been more lovey with me and the baby belly. He asks to give Baby X hugs in the morning, he kisses my belly, and during the Super Bowl, we were just lying on the couch together and his hand was lightly running circles around my belly. He’s also highly amused by my disappearing naval.

 

What Screaming Child?

I had the pleasure and good fortune to go out to dinner with a few close friends I’ve known for ages while I was in Wisconsin a little over a week ago. We went to one of my favorite places to eat, and we got to catch up on the lives we’ve been living at a distance from each other for far too long.

I’m thrilled for these individuals because it seems like things are going well for them, they look happy and healthy and beautiful, and I took note of just how much I miss hanging out with them on a regular basis.

As many of my handful of readers know, James and I are seriously considering a move back to Wisconsin to be closer to family and get our financial situation more under control. Being able to see these friends, among others, is one item that definitely goes in the “pro” column for this particular decision.

But it might not really be that simple to slip back into that place. You see, our relationship has shifted, probably having a lot to do with the current distance. But I think it also has a little bit to do with my life and experience as a parent. I noticed this very acutely as we were chatting at our table in the restaurant, and one friend was getting especially irritated, frequently glancing over at something a few tables away from ours. Finally, there came the offhand comment that people should not bring screaming children to restaurants.

Now, before I was a parent, I may have agreed with the statement. But as a parent, the first thing I observed in myself was how I hadn’t even noticed that the sound of said screaming child was even a part of the cacophonous mingle of crowded restaurant noises. The second thing, as a parent, I pointed out that the child in question is not usually screaming when you choose to bring them to a restaurant.

We all have our days. The high-pitched squeal of someone under five is not always music to my ears, especially in close quarters, as I happen to spend many of my own hours with someone of that particular demographic. And the fact that a child screaming at a restaurant bothered one of my good friends is not necessarily any huge deal to me. When I’m out with my kid, I do my very best to help him stay under the radar, so to speak. I try to teach him at home what’s appropriate so that on the rare occasions we do go out, he understands what’s expected of him. But sometimes, kids are just kids. Unless it’s totally out of hand, the occasional outburst will happen, and we parents just have to hope that no one’s whole evening is ruined because of it.

The thing is, most of my close friends I’ve had forever are not yet to the parenting phase of their journeys, if it’s even in the cards for them at all. And that’s fine, I’ll go ahead and envy them their sleep, double incomes and free time, but I’m sitting right here in the thick of it, and there is no denying that this simple fact has changed the way I experience the world. And a small part of me is actually afraid that this change could turn out to be a line that keeps me at a distance from certain people, even if I end up in closer physical proximity.

 

28 Weeks

This is the first week of the third trimester. I’m so not ready for this. The third trimester is the last one of a pregnancy. Which is only three trimesters. That’s what a trimester is. A period of time divided into three. So here we are, entering the third. The last trimester. At the end of which, there will be a baby.

It’s sinking in pretty heavily now. We were out of town last week, in Wisconsin visiting family and doing our January Christmas thing, and even Baby X got a few little gifts. In just a few more months, we’ll be dressing him/her in those little things. And I haven’t even really started to prepare myself for the birth. Not to mention the fact of becoming a family of four.

I suppose, now that we’re here in the third of three trimesters, that should probably begin to change. It’s been hard to focus on baby to dos when there are so many other things going on.

I know it will all be okay. I have a great birth team. I’m considering whether I want a photographer (and how to pay someone if I do), and who might be available, willing and/or able to keep tabs on my big boy during the big event. We still have not discussed names in any real way. And I’m preoccupied with our current financial circumstances and the likely scenario of having to plan a move in the fall with an infant and a four-year-old also needing my constant attention.

So that’s the update as we enter the third trimester today. I think it’s time to make some lists. And break out the Hypnobirthing meditations.