Tuesday, August 26, 2014
My doctor's office let us know yesterday afternoon--my planned and scheduled C-section has been moved from Friday to tomorrow!
That means today's the last day my belly will ever feel so hard. Today's the last day I have to shoot myself with insulin (though my blood sugar will be checked regularly at least for the rest of the week, needing insulin is not expected.) Tomorrow, I will get to eat one of the goodies I'll be saving in my freezer.
We'll never get to post a picture of our 39-week fruit or veggie! (Thursday, we'd have started Week 39.)
I've got to cram 3 days' worth of stuff I NEED to get DONE into this afternoon.
Big Sister will miss school for the rest of the week. (REALLY, the weekend was going to be the PERFECT time to have this child!)
And shortly after this time tomorrow, when I was expecting to have my last ultrasound/biophysical profile, I will actually get to SEE my son. Not, this time, a grainy black and white 2D image, but in-your-face highest possible definition 3D!
Monday, August 25, 2014
I dropped Big Sister off for her first day of Pre-K this morning. Friday, we'd gone to meet the teacher, drop off supplies, and have orientation, and while she wasn't jumping to make best friends with anyone, she asked, just before we left for the day (I had to get to work, after all) "Why do we have to go?"
So, I got her dropped off easily enough--the teacher said, "You want to go watch the movie?" and she said, "Yes" and took off; I got to tell the back of her head, "Okay, baby, Bye, I love you!"--and as I left, one of the teachers standing at the door to her own classroom asked me, "Are you gonna be all right?"
And I was. I was pondering, just them, how I'd expected to be so upset, and how I wasn't. How other people's kids sometimes get upset being dropped off for the first day at school, and that had certainly not happened for my girl.
And it occurred to me, I've been dropping her off for most of her life. I dropped her off only 8 weeks old at a daycare so I could go back to work, even though I didn't really want to. After I'd been laid off, I spent a little more than a year at home with her, and with her sister, who was born right in the middle of that period of time, and then there have been just the couple months that their dad's been home with them... other than that, she was dropped off. It was never much of a big deal for her.
Their father is upset, a bit, because school was rough for him. He expects kids to be mean, teachers to be discriminatory, and fights to break out at any moment in any place. Sure... all possibilities, but I had better school experiences than that, and I think our kids will.
Big Sister asked me, as we pulled into the parking lot this morning, "When I'm bigger, can I ride the bus?"
When I was a kid, the buses only picked up the kids who lived outside City Limits. My husband said the buses he had to ride were like rolling Thunderdomes. In either case, we think our kids should be happy to be getting a ride straight to the door of the school, and straight home, and not have to ride around for an hour or so before school or after. The buses in our town seem to drive down every street... and from the one kid I know who's ridden one, the driver wasn't the only adult on the bus trying to keep kids under control.
Still. We'll drive our kids, if at all possible, to and from school until they're driving themselves... which, wow, is only 12 years away--the blink of an eye at the rate this year has been going!
Then... a couple hours after I got to work, my husband called to say that his mother had called to let him know that our nephew has made it the purpose of his day to "protect" his little cousin on her first day in the great big world.
I said, "Protect her from who? HE'S the little tyrant!"
He is, too. A terror in the form of a third grader. I'm hoping their playground times are separate, and that lunchtime for his grade will always be different from lunch time for her grade...
I had been doing everything in my power to keep him from knowing that Big Sister would be attending classes at "His" school. She still even calls it his school, and I'm trying to teacher that it's her school, now, not just his.
My husband goes to pick her up in about an hour and a half...
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
It's not that I'm prepared, exactly. My suitcase is packed, and I've reminded my husband that nothing is packed for him.
I've pretty much caught up on all my stuff at work, but there's still enough to do that to leave it all undone would leave a bit on my coworker's plate.
I'm not at all caught up at home. There's laundry to be done, packing for the girls, shopping to be done just to make sure there's plenty of food for everyone, bills to be paid, and weed-eating (since my man won't let me do the lawn, at least he lets me do the weed-eating.)
But I'm ready to have the hospital stay over with, I'm ready to have my boy in my arms, and I'm ready to be out of work for a few weeks. I'm ready to be done with what my daughter calls "pinches"--that is, finger-pokes and 4-a-day insulin injections.
I am excited. I'm not looking forward to the itchiness that comes with having your nerves restored to you after having a spinal block, or to the difficulties of getting out of bed that first time after having been opened up and having your muscles all stretched aside. Or the nausea. But the end results--totally worthwhile. And I'm looking forward to that.
I told my U/S tech today, if he felt like coming early, I'd be all right with that--as long as it's not today, or tomorrow. Because I do need to go to Big Sister's meet-the-teacher/orientation, and I don't want to distract from her first day at school, which is only 5 days away!
My little family is growing, and growing up, so fast!
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
As a testament to having lost more weight before this pregnancy, and having started this pregnancy at a lower weight than any of my other pregnancies, (and it looks like I'll be ending it at a lower weight than previous pregnancies, as well) this pregnancy is the first time I've LOST my bellybutton. It hasn't done the turkey-timer pop-out-means-ready thing yet, but for the first time, it might. By the end of next week.
It reminds me of the story Bill Cosby tells about a teacher telling a student that Adam and Eve didn't have belly buttons, and the student says, yes they did, because after God made them, he said, poking each of them in the belly, "You're done, and you're done."
Monday, August 11, 2014
I was logging my food Saturday afternoon--something I've failed to do on SP but keep up with almost religiously in my diabetes notebook. Most days of the week, I have the same breakfast and essentially the same lunch, so it's not hard to do. But that day, I opened my notebook to discover that I hadn't written down what I'd had for dinner the night before.
And I couldn't remember.
And my husband couldn't remember.
And my children strain against having anything like food for dinner. Especially if it's the food we're eating.
But Big Sister remembered what we had--she had even eaten some when I reminded her that she'd always liked it before. She didn't know details like "parmesan sauce" or "tilapia," but she was able to tell us we'd had fish. And then I could remember the rest.
Kids are just awesome.
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