I aplogize for the lack of wit.

But here's a quick update. No more dilation! Go Bill!
And Jude is big. Measured via ultrasound at 7.5 lbs, but doc says " I think he's probably a bit bigger than that".
So officially my c/section is still on for May 5th. (Which is two weeks from tomorrow. Please insert all crazy faces and expletives here). And I have an appt next week.
But doc said, "With any valid medical excuse, come on in and we'll deliver". Like should my contractions get worse, or bleeding begin or whatever.

So, that's it.

He's definitely on his way.

I'll keep y'all posted.

35/35

I am 35 weeks pregnant today. Which under normal circumstances would mean that I have a mere 35 days to go. Hence 35/35.

But in reality, my c/section is scheduled a tad early making today 35/24.

But in the even more real reality - I may not make it to that date. Making today 35/who the fuck knows.

And that my friends has major panic potential.

Only I'm feeling pretty good about all of it. I'm not near as freaked out as I thought I would be. I'm more in awe at how surreal it all is. We finished the last two baby to-dos. Car seat and pack n play. Check. And check.

See Spike on Tuesday. Hopefully Bill (in case you haven't heard that's what I have named my cervix with some help from my friend Megan) can continue to hold his own against the tyrant in my ute.

Love y'all. See ya soon.

Because TMI is what I do best.

I thought I was having more contractions tonight.


But then I pooped.



And it went away.

How awesome is that? Says the 12 year old boy that lives inside of me.

People annoy me.

In general.

That's all.

Update

I was back in the hospital again Wednesday and Thursday. I stated having some pains (which apparently were contractions, but I didn't know that at the time) while at my 3 hour glucose test. Yeah. Ugh. Anyway. One of the Nurse Practitioners in the office, wanted to go ahead and see me. So she checked me and sure enough, she felt like I was about a fingertip dilated and softening.
So onto the monitor I went. And lo and behold - CONTRACTIONS. Lots of them. So they sent me to L & D. Again.
I had to spend the night, but they were able to stop the contractions by Thursday with meds. And I only dilated to 1 cm. Gave me a couple of steroid shots to help boost his lung maturation "just in case", and sent me home with meds to take when I'm contracting too much.

Here's the moral of the story. I'm home now. Not on bedrest, but have to "take it easy". I'll see Spike (my OB) again on Tuesday. We hope to be able to hold things off until May 5th. That's my c/s date and the 38.5 week mark.

But between you and me....I would be really surprised if things didn't get moved up. It seems that Jude may have inherited his mother's patience.
So for now, we wait.

We're home!

24 hour urine looks good. I just have to follow up with Spike on Monday. I'm exhausted though. And apparently I had some contractions while on the monitor yesterday. I didn't feel them at all and there was no change in my cervix, so that's good.

Thanks for all your thoughts and prayers. Jude and I really appreciate it. Hopefully I won't see the walls of L&D again until May.

Guess where I am.

Labor & Delivery.
Now, I'm not laboring or delivering thank God. But I am being monitored for possible Pre-E. It started Thursday at work. I wasn't' feeling well and had one of our nurses take my vitals. My BP was only slightly elevated but my pulse was super high. Long story, short - I called Nurse Spike who said come in and see Spike.
Spike decided that given my complicated medical history, he wanted me to go to L&D for monitoring and and EKG by a cardiologist. So we came over. They ended up keeping me over night. And now, since I had what I like to refer to as protein pee, I am about 19 hours into a 24 hour urine test.
So we wait. I have to finish the 24 hour and then wait for the results. If they are good, we go home. If they are not, we stay and talk about steroid shots, bed rest, and other things that I don't really want to thing about right now.
The good news is that all my cardio stuff looks good. And so does Jude.

Thanks for all your positive vibes. I'll keep you posted.

Love y'all.

Oh, one more thing.

I don't particularly care what your political opinions are. And I feel that we all should take an interest and know what we think and believe.
BUT, I do have a problem with those who proclaim to have these strong political beliefs (recently regarding the health care bill, but just generally speaking as well), but cannot tell me why.

As a side note, I don't think that politics or religion are Facebook material. But I guarantee you that 90% of those people who have joined these stupid "End Obamacare" or whatever groups - could not tell me what exactly it is that they are opposed to. Why they don't support it. Or what they do believe in terms of health care in this country.

Not if their lives depended on it.

And that, my friends is the one and only and last thing you will hear me say about the health care bill.

G'night.

Maternity Leave

If I'm being honest, I was dreaming about maternity leave the moment we decided to start trying to get me knocked up.
I mean of course the focus was on creating life, but I couldn't help but look at my office walls and think "One day, I won't see this place for months".
And since I've been pregnant - Oh forget about it. Going on leave has never been far from the forefront of my mind. (Side note: the word forefront always makes me think foreskin, but I digress).
Remember those paper chains, that you made in elementary school to count down the days until Christmas or Spring Break or Summer?
I have given serious thought to making one to hang in my office and countdown to maternity leave. Okay, so I have established how I feel about leave.

Now, the big news: I am going out on maternity leave effective Monday.
Holy crap.
I still have about about 6 weeks until my c/s. But with my BP being up and down and the fact that I am measuring a few weeks ahead - Spike and I are pulling the plug on work.

I can't really explain how I feel about it. I'm excited, obviously. But really nervous too. Nervous about change. Nervous about the financial piece of me not working. Nervous about that fact that being on maternity leave means having a baby relatively soon. Just nervous.

I suspect that this time off will be a really good thing. Good for me. Good for Jude. Good for my marriage. (Less stress = less bitching). Just good. And I'll probably look back in a week or so and be so happy that I took this extra time off.

But for now - I'm scared. Happy. But scared. Elated, actually. But still scared.

Without further ado....

It is my pleasure to introduce to you THE NURSERY.

Holy cow, the nursery. All it's waiting for is a baby. I'm so happy with how it came out and I'm excited to share it with you.




A close up.







A shout out to PawPaw.




I know, it's sideways. Tilt your head.

So that's it. Well, I need to get a few more pictures of wall stuff that I've hung. But that's the jist of it.

Oh, one more thing. My favorite part is this framed picture of a quote I found. I melted the moment that I read it. It summarizes so much of how I feel about being Momma to my little guy.

It reads:

"Every great man, was first a boy".

::swoon tear smile::

Let me break it down for you.

I suck at blogging. I'm exhausted. I'm achy. I'm almost 30 weeks. I'm scared. I'm anxious. I'm grateful. I'm covered in to do lists. I'm single handedly keeping Post It in business. I'm excited. I'm working on the nursery. I'm covered in stretch marks. I'm trying to cherish each day. I'm trying really hard to cherish the hard days. I'm finally gaining weight. I'm eating girl scout cookies like a banshee. I'm breaking out. I'm coloring my hair. I'm hormonal. I'm mushy. I'm loving my husband. I'm watching him become a father. I'm, at times, speechless. I'm always in thought about how lucky and blessed I truly am.
I'm humbled. I'm grateful again.

And I'm gassy.

xoxo

J

Satisfaction.

It started with strawberries. Progressed to include oranges, pineapple. These fruit cravings are out of control. Fruit? Of all things for "the baby" to want. Fruit?
I guess that's an improvement from the fried chicken and mac n cheese or first tri.

So I drove my cranky, fruit obsessed ass to Smoothie King.

I'm fairly certain that fruit has never warranted such an orgasmic response from me.

NOM.

Alright, here ya go.

A belly pic. Now, if you know me at all, you know these come few and far between. Usually on days that I'm feeling particularly ballsy. This was taken yesterday. Just shy of 24 weeks. It's a front view, because a)I'm also showing of the new 'do and b) the side view is horrendous.

I heard pre-pregnancy that we big girls often don't show until the very end. Bullshit. I'm enormous. Again, I'm rocking that giant belly...but still.

Don't say I never gave ya nothin'.

And P.S. The silly face was my attempt to hide the double chin and look cute. Face FAIL.
Love y'all.

"V-Day"

I'm writing this a little early. Mostly because I'm awake, at the computer, and thinking about it.
I'll be 24 weeks on Sunday. That particular day is often celebrated by pregnant women as a milestone.
Why, you ask? Because 24 weeks is considered the point at which a baby has a chance of survival if born prematurely. The point at which Dr's will do everything to save said premature baby. The point where a baby is considered to be "viable" outside of the womb. Viability day. Hence V-Day.

Lots of women look forward to it. They celebrate it. They talk about it. Post about it on the interwebs. Relax in the pseudo-confidence that comes with this milestone. I am not one of these women.

I have some pretty strong feelings about this "milestone". The short of it is that I think it's bullshit. The truth is that a premature baby, whether born at 24 weeks, or 30 weeks is going to have difficulties. Sure, 30 weeks provides much greater chances of survival. But ::everybaby is different dust:: there are going to be complications. Some greater than others.

I have a several friends who recently lost their babies after going into labor early. Very early. Some not quite at "viability". Others, past it.

Why do some babies who are born at 24 weeks survive? While others born later don't? What sets apart a baby that is 23 weeks 6 days, from one that's 24 weeks? I just don't like it. It feels false.

And maybe I'm oversensitive because of what my friends have gone through. Maybe I'm jaded. Maybe I'm realistic. But when I see someone get all excited and celebrate (read: AW) their "V-Day", I"m overcome with feelings such as anger, and annoyance. And sometimes it takes all I've got not to pop that bubble with words that probably aren't so kind and really should remain unspoken.

The moral of the story? Celebrate every day that you are pregnant. Celebrate 23 weeks as much as 24. As much as 41. (Easier said than done, I'm sure).
Celebrate the life that lives within you. Now. Today. This moment. Every moment.

You will not see a V-Day post from me. Beyond this one, but that doesn't count - smartass.
That day will come and go, like any other. With immense gratitude, a healthy, mild, and motherly fear, and intense orders for Jude to stay put all the way until he's forcefully removed (more on that later) from my uterus.

Please and Thank You.

I'm going to need one of y'all to go ahead and stop time for me. Mmmkay? I have entirely too much to do and the glaring presence of the calendar makes me itch.

TIA. LYLAS. XOXO

I'm still alive.

I have not dropped off the face of the earth as this blog would suggest. I will spare you the apology. So, I am 22 weeks pregnant. Well, a little over 22 weeks actually. Time continues to fly and will continue to do so, I'd assume.

Yes. I am 22 weeks pregnant. And looking....oh, I don't know...about 32? 35? Big. Bigger than I am. Now, don't get me wrong. This is merely an observation. Not a complaint. I am glad to have a healthy baby cooking in there. I've just decided that I'll tell people that ask that I'm much further along that I am. Or perhaps that I'm having twins. Yes, that should work.

We have also had a name change. Now, if you know anything about me - this will shock you about as much the man whoreness of Tiger Woods. I am the single most indecisive person I know. What do I want to be when I grow up? I don't know. What do I want for dinner? I don't know. What do I want to name my first born? Well, you get the idea.

So here it is. My decision. Our decision. Our commitment to a name....take two.

Jude Kilren

There it is. We have traded Elliot, for Jude. And I am, as of now, content with that. Actually, I'm very excited. It was always our number 2. And it continued to haunt me after we "settled" on Elliot. So, we promoted Jude to number 1.

It feels so right. I love him to pieces already.

Y'all take care, now. xoxo