These days I count my life three ways:
1. In Pregnancy Weeks: 26. (Maybe 27? I'm getting confused again.)
Every week that passes is a lovely treat. It's one week closer to meeting my baby, finding out whether she looks like me or Jeremy or some other random family member, one week closer to feeling like a normal, female human being, one week closer to my body not hating me so much...I could go on. My back is getting ridiculous. Today I was only out of bed for a few hours, but the pain sent me back to bed again, begging Jeremy for a back rub. (He did...though he played a game on his iPhone with the other hand, but you know. When I'm asking for multiple backrubs a day I assume he gets bored.)
Notice I said one week closer to feeling like a normal FEMALE human being. Yes, growing a baby is seriously feminine, but sometimes I feel downright masculine. The excess saliva forces me to randomly spit into the trash can, toilet, or sink, whatever's available. I'm sure it's not attractive and I would still never do it in public or when company is over but if I swallow it, I get the burps. Burps like I've never had in my life. It's not pleasant. I'll spare you the rest of my gassiness woes. I know Jeremy would like to be able to forget. Hehe.
Did anyone ever tell you about the excess saliva or hips popping? Morning Sickness gets all the glory and these other lovely symptoms just show up unannounced.
Sometimes I think my body really does hate me. The baby has already used her cuteness to turn it against me. My back hurts, my butt hurts, my hips hurt and they are constantly popping out of place. Today my hips popped five times. And I'm a big girl. I'm tall and big boned. When my hips pop the sound is like a bone being snapped in half. It scares the crap out of me every time. I don't remember it happening hardly at all before I got pregnant. I suppose things are loosening up down there in anticipation of a baby coming out, but geez. The popping is making anxious. I suppose the same hormones loosen everything up because my shoulders randomly pop all the time too.
I get headaches frequently throughout the day. Today I woke up with one. The heartburn has become a nightly bedtime ritual. Right now my throat burns a fire that neither milk, hot chocolate, ice cream, nor Tums can douse. The worst part is my bladder. It has forgotten how to work and has turned into quite a pansy. I suppose two pounds of baby sitting on top of it and how ever many baby-related fluids are starting to put a strain on it. I can't sneeze or really laugh much at all without dashing to the bathroom. And forget coughing! Coughing is no good. So I do every trick in the book to stop sneezes, I giggle politely, and I weakly clear my throat instead of actually coughing. It works. For now.
But the news isn't all bad, of course. The little girl in my belly should be around two pounds now, and about 14 inches long. She moves, rolls, and kicks all the time! She's kicking the laptop right now, and can make it move. It's impressive. She seems most active in the morning when I wake up and at night before I go to bed, but it may only seem that way because that's when I'm in bed being still and more likely to notice. Jeremy and I were an hour late for Date Night on Wednesday because we were having such a good time watching her acrobatics. My stomach looked like an earthquake zone. I love it and will gladly put up with all the aches, pains, and discomforts for however long it takes to get her here.
2. When I Can Eat Again: The Moment I Wake Up
Food is my very best friend right now. It tastes better than ever, and I can't get enough of it. I daydream about food, I plan my day around food, I want food right now actually. I procrastinate everything so I can have just ONE MORE SNACK.
I'm extremely possessive of my food these days, especially sweets and my favorite dishes. A few weeks ago I got so angry that I cried because someone ate my last Swiss Cake Roll. At the grocery store, we had all chosen a snack. I chose Swiss Cake Rolls for myself and the boys each chose something for themselves. When I found out someone had ate it, THE LAST ONE, without telling me, I was furious. I went to the pantry, so excited for a Swiss Cake Roll, and there was nothing but an empty box mocking me. (Why leave an empty box? That's another rant.) I can laugh about it now, but at the time I didn't speak to the offender for an entire day. Even now, I hide my stash of Little Debbie Christmas Trees and Wreaths so that I know exactly how many I have and how many I'm allowed to have per week, etc. And holy crap if somebody were to eat one without asking my permission, SOMETHING WOULD HIT THE FAN. I don't mind buying snacks for other people, and I keep extras in the closet, but don't touch my personal Little Debbies! I also get extremely irritated if food is left out to go bad or stale. Don't get me started on how to correctly fold down a cereal bag or squeeze all the air out of the flour tortillas bag.
I usually bring a snack to eat in bed, and something to nibble on while I get ready in the morning. I can't eat large meals because my stomach is getting squished, but I seem to graze all day. As soon as I'm done eating I'm thinking about what I could be eating next. I never really feel full. I always feel like I could eat more, but I try to limit myself so I don't weigh more than everyone in this house combined by the end of this pregnancy. I still eat a lot of fruits and vegetables, which I think is good. I figure if I'm going to be eating nearly constantly, they better be good things. Right now I really enjoy bean burritos. I make them with 96% fat free tortillas, fat free refried beans, and 2% milk cheese. So I don't think it's too bad. When I was doing Weight Watchers the whole thing was only like two points. (I kinda miss Weight Watchers.) I also eat a lot of Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup with 25% less sodium, PB&Js, and banana sandwiches with Miracle Whip. (I know half of you just threw up a little but maybe it's a southern thing? My Dad always ate them and they are DELICIOUS. Especially when the bananas are at their perfect ripeness and you cut them really thin.)
So yeah. Food, I will see you in eight hours!
3. Time Until This Semester is Over: Three Weeks
This has been a horrible school semester for me. I love most of my classes (except math) and I enjoy the university experience. I really do. BYU is a top notch school in my opinion and I feel so blessed to be able to get a top-ranked education.
However, sometimes it makes me want to die. Do the classes really have to be so hard? So intense? So stressful? Apparently the answer is OF COURSE. And my professors don't forget it. BYU classes do not play around. There's always some super scary assignment looming over my head and I always feel confused because I am missing so many classes due to pregnancy complications. They expect 2-3 hours of reading and studying outside of class for every hour in class. So if you're taking 15 credits like I am, that's at least 30 hours of outside work. Add that to my pregnancy, my wife duties, my parenting duties, little odds and ends for my family (we're pretty much their IT team,) my Disney responsibilities, and my church calling, and I'm swamped. I know I did this all to myself. I could have waited until I graduated to get married. I could have waited to get pregnant. But there were just a lot of factors and honestly, if I had to do it all over again, I'd do it the same. The last five and a half years with Jeremy are worth taking the slow route to my degree. And the baby is only putting me behind a semester. Not even a semester really. I just have to survive.
The stress is really getting to me though. Jeremy made a less than loving remark to me in the mall the other day and I just lost it. Sure, he wasn't being particularly nice, but it wasn't something that I should have gotten all upset about. But I did. Bad. I stomped (figuratively) out of the mall with tears in my eyes and we went home and had the biggest fight we've had in a long time. The whole thing lasted maybe an hour or two and we got it worked out and were totally fine and gooey-lovey-dovey by that evening, but still. I'm stressed to the max. When this semester is over, pass or fail, I will feel like the happiest little free bird. I can't wait. I just want it to be OVER. I want to be able to enjoy the holidays. Right now I can't. I can't even put up my Christmas tree because I know I should be studying and I feel guilty doing anything else. I shouldn't even be writing on this blog right now but I needed a vent.
Next semester though...I originally wasn't going to take any classes, but I really need to take one. If I don't take it, then I won't be able to graduate until April 2011. It's only offered in Winter, so if I can manage it, I think it will be more than worth it. I know the professor really well and I think he will work with me. And I will still have tons of free time. Time for nesting, time to be a better blogger, time to think about my parenting strategies and goals, time to work on my photography skills before my little muse gets here, time to start outlining and writing my novel(s). It's a lot to accomplish before the baby gets here, but I want to have that "me" time before it's totally gone.
Well I feel better, and my back has calmed to a dull ache. I think I can sleep now! Although I'm more than a little hungry by this point, I'm making myself wait for morning. Gotta take my sister to the airport. She gets to have a little trip home! Wish me luck that I don't dislocate a hip trying to get in my car...haha! Goodnight!
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