Monday, December 2, 2013

Ticking Time Bomb

This is a bizarre month to be pregnant. There is so much to do and so much I want to enjoy with Lloyd. Yet every day we tick closer to the date we all decided to "strongly encourage" this baby to come out. It seems so odd to know his birthdate this time around, after spending a month dilated with prodromal labor with Lloyd thinking "is today the day?" every time I woke up. Then waiting an additional week and having to be induced. The mind game was awful. 

This time I have this odd knowledge ingrained into me that I won't go into labor this time either. Call it experience, or family history (there's never been an early kid in my family. Ever), or hopeful premonition. But the count down is still official now. Weeks. Days. The absolute end to this pregnancy; the date we get to finally hold our miracle boy safely in this world. The sweet relief and beauty that comes with delivery. 

The decision to encourage this baby out wasn't easy. I won't have pitocin, so technically you can't even call it an induction. We weighed all our options and I do not believe in taking a child before they are ready. However, I refuse to have a c-section and we got dangerously close with Lloyd because of his head size and weight--I was very close to that point where they can't let you push any more, infection concerns begin, and just sheer exhaustion from working so hard and so long. To make that more complicated: Lloyd measured completely average sized throughout the pregnancy, even at the post-due sono. This child has measured large from the beginning by all the different sonographers and doctors. Head size included. Which is what tore me so badly; yes, he came out but my nether regions paid the price. Luckily my immediate recovery was easy (hemmeroids caused most of my discomfort, not the stitches), but it took the better part of 6-8 months before the lady parts were completely pain free. It would be great to avoid that by having a nice 8+ pounder. Which is what they predict we will have if we deliver on our chosen date. My body was meant to carry big babies, but even I have limits. 

So here I am, frantically finishing up a bevy of sewing orders that came into my shop last minute. Hoping I can get them done early this week so we can enjoy my last few days of pregnancy with the big boy. Today we are decorating the tree and switching out dishes for our Christmas ones (they were my moms and even though it'll be one more thing to put away after ABC is here, I can't not bring them out), maybe drinking some hot cocoa (in 70° Weather), and watching Christmas movies with Lloyd. This weekend I am determined to get us all up and at the Polar Express showing at the IMAX. These are memories I will not sacrifice. I need these last days with Lloyd; I crave each moment with him knowing so much will change once we have two. I'm more patient, more watchful, more calm these last weeks with him. This time he has as an only child is now so short. He is so wonderful, so curious, so intelligent--he will make this transition with grace and wonderful maturity I am sure. Struggles, sure, but he is such an incredible kid. I owe it to him to make this Christmas just as special as any other. We both deserve it. But always in the back of my mind is the countdown. 

Days. How did we get here after so long? So many days, weeks, and months convinced this pregnancy too would fail. Now we can deliver any day and be considered full-term. It seems surreal and unreal simultaneously. Days! So much to do. His poor room isn't even finished, our bags only half packed! Oh second child, I'm so sorry. We love you so dearly. 

Two children. I'm going to have two children calling me mommy this month. Two angels with me on earth. How blessed I feel. 
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