This morning at my weekly doctor's appointment, I was still 1 cm and half effaced. So I asked if we could induce the week between Christmas and New Year's, and the midwife said that should be okay, since I'll be past my due date by then. She scheduled it for the 29th and 30th. I'll go in on the 29th and they'll do a 'balloon', whatever that is, which is supposed to make my cervix dilate, and then on the 30th they'll start Pitocin, assuming my cervix did what it was supposed to.
Now, here's what I'm hoping will actually happen: Wesley will realize that he's got a deadline, and, just like me, will work really well under pressure and finish whatever developing he has to do. Then, whatever happens to start labor will happen and I'll be in labor before the 29th. That would be ideal, but either way, the 29th (or 30th) is D-Day.
The midwife also stripped my membranes this morning, which was far more painful than I expected. She said that it could help to get things going, but of course isn't as effective or reliable as medical induction. I have felt a little crampy since that, but that's normal apparently, and not indicative of anything. It also seems to have disturbed Wesley, he's moving a lot more than normal, but I don't mind.
So...just waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting...
December 17, 2009
December 11, 2009
Frustrated
**Though I have tried not to be terribly explicit in this post, please know that is about an adult subject.**
This is a part of pregnancy I did not expect. Perhaps most women don't experience it, or perhaps many do and it's just not talked about because it's a little wierd.
I can't seem to get enough um... well, sex. My hormones are running crazy, and along with the crying over nearly nothing and constant aches, those pesky hormones normally associated with teenagers seem to have found their way back to my bloodstream. And it's seriously annoying.
Michael is not exactly obliging, mostly, I think, because I don't know how to tell him. We have never been terribly talkative about this, and whenever I try I get embarrassed and tongue-tied and I can never quite say what I want to say.
Part of that is because a few times (earlier in the marriage) I tried to be explicit about my needs without being verbal, and it didn't turn out well. Another part of the problem is that every time we try to talk about it and I find that I can't say what I want it just makes it harder for me to try again. I blush a lot. Too much for a married woman talking with her husband. And the final issue, I think, is that while Michael is invariably satisfied, I am not. Ever. At least not with intercourse. Yes, there are other methods and it usually happens one way or another, but I really hate that we have to do that.
And while I'm laying our issues bare, I might as well admit that, for various reasons, it's been a few months since I've been 'satisfied'. Which could explain my current overwhelming needs. The logical part of my mind does not lay the blame all at Michael's door. I know this is an 'us' problem. However, the logical part of my mind is not exactly in control right now, and so that makes me even more reluctant to say something because I'm afraid I'm going to say something I don't really believe, but do feel right now, and end up hurting him.
Because we've never been able to talk coherently about this, I don't know how he feels about me not being satisfied, or if he even notices. I would like to think that he notices, and that he cares to the point that it hurts him and he blames himself and he just doesn't know how to talk about it or what to do about it. If I knew he felt that way, I think I could talk with him about it more easily.
But, I'm afraid that he more feels like it's my problem, something that I need to fix. Again, logically, I know it's more likely that it's somewhere in the middle of those two extremes, but it's extremely frustrating regardless.
And, on any one occassion, I don't really care whether or not I'm satisfied. But all told for the past few months, it bothers me. It actually hurts that he doesn't say anything. I know I should be the one to take responsibility and say something, since it does bother me and I have a right to talk about this with him, but I guess I've read too many romance novels. Even regular fiction novels that are a little explicit generally depict a guy who takes responsibility for the girl's pleasure. And if there is a problem, it's generally the guy who blames himself.
Unrealistic? Yes, I know it is, and that's why the books are fiction. But that doesn't help me any right now. I don't know what would, I don't even know that talking about it would bring any difference, because the few conversations we've attempted in the past have failed so miserably.
My final admission of the day: It's all very depressing. Not just this issue, but all the things I have to deal with. Not having a job, dealing politely with Michael's parents and sister (especially his dad, who is incredibly excited and therefore more annoying than I thought possible), diplomatically rebuffing what I feel are inappropriate inquiries and touching, and living in this small town with no distractions or entertainments are really wearing on me. And I'm terribly afraid of developing post-partum depression. Not the baby blues, I think I could handle that, but real, debilitating depression. My son doesn't deserve that, nor does Michael, and I really don't want to have to deal with it. I've been depressed before, but never to the point that I felt I needed to seek help, even if I probably should have. It always goes away after a while. I'll have to seek help if it happens again, though, because now I have Wesley, and he deserves a mom who is whole and well. Just one more thing I don't want to talk about with Michael.
P.S. I just read the description on my baby bar, and thank God that none of that is true! I am uncomfortable, but I don't have hemorroids or any bathroom issues, and I'm really okay, as long as people don't ask me how I'm doing all the time, because that's just annoying.
This is a part of pregnancy I did not expect. Perhaps most women don't experience it, or perhaps many do and it's just not talked about because it's a little wierd.
I can't seem to get enough um... well, sex. My hormones are running crazy, and along with the crying over nearly nothing and constant aches, those pesky hormones normally associated with teenagers seem to have found their way back to my bloodstream. And it's seriously annoying.
Michael is not exactly obliging, mostly, I think, because I don't know how to tell him. We have never been terribly talkative about this, and whenever I try I get embarrassed and tongue-tied and I can never quite say what I want to say.
Part of that is because a few times (earlier in the marriage) I tried to be explicit about my needs without being verbal, and it didn't turn out well. Another part of the problem is that every time we try to talk about it and I find that I can't say what I want it just makes it harder for me to try again. I blush a lot. Too much for a married woman talking with her husband. And the final issue, I think, is that while Michael is invariably satisfied, I am not. Ever. At least not with intercourse. Yes, there are other methods and it usually happens one way or another, but I really hate that we have to do that.
And while I'm laying our issues bare, I might as well admit that, for various reasons, it's been a few months since I've been 'satisfied'. Which could explain my current overwhelming needs. The logical part of my mind does not lay the blame all at Michael's door. I know this is an 'us' problem. However, the logical part of my mind is not exactly in control right now, and so that makes me even more reluctant to say something because I'm afraid I'm going to say something I don't really believe, but do feel right now, and end up hurting him.
Because we've never been able to talk coherently about this, I don't know how he feels about me not being satisfied, or if he even notices. I would like to think that he notices, and that he cares to the point that it hurts him and he blames himself and he just doesn't know how to talk about it or what to do about it. If I knew he felt that way, I think I could talk with him about it more easily.
But, I'm afraid that he more feels like it's my problem, something that I need to fix. Again, logically, I know it's more likely that it's somewhere in the middle of those two extremes, but it's extremely frustrating regardless.
And, on any one occassion, I don't really care whether or not I'm satisfied. But all told for the past few months, it bothers me. It actually hurts that he doesn't say anything. I know I should be the one to take responsibility and say something, since it does bother me and I have a right to talk about this with him, but I guess I've read too many romance novels. Even regular fiction novels that are a little explicit generally depict a guy who takes responsibility for the girl's pleasure. And if there is a problem, it's generally the guy who blames himself.
Unrealistic? Yes, I know it is, and that's why the books are fiction. But that doesn't help me any right now. I don't know what would, I don't even know that talking about it would bring any difference, because the few conversations we've attempted in the past have failed so miserably.
My final admission of the day: It's all very depressing. Not just this issue, but all the things I have to deal with. Not having a job, dealing politely with Michael's parents and sister (especially his dad, who is incredibly excited and therefore more annoying than I thought possible), diplomatically rebuffing what I feel are inappropriate inquiries and touching, and living in this small town with no distractions or entertainments are really wearing on me. And I'm terribly afraid of developing post-partum depression. Not the baby blues, I think I could handle that, but real, debilitating depression. My son doesn't deserve that, nor does Michael, and I really don't want to have to deal with it. I've been depressed before, but never to the point that I felt I needed to seek help, even if I probably should have. It always goes away after a while. I'll have to seek help if it happens again, though, because now I have Wesley, and he deserves a mom who is whole and well. Just one more thing I don't want to talk about with Michael.
P.S. I just read the description on my baby bar, and thank God that none of that is true! I am uncomfortable, but I don't have hemorroids or any bathroom issues, and I'm really okay, as long as people don't ask me how I'm doing all the time, because that's just annoying.
December 8, 2009
Happy Birthday Mom!
Today is my mom's birthday, and she is an awesome person. I don't know how much I've talked about her, but I love her like crazy. She is a rock for me, who is too often just in the background of my life. I can talk to her about nearly everything, and I find myself closer and closer to her every year.
She raised my sister, brother, and I basically by herself (even when she was still married). I love the man my dad was when I knew him, but before that he didn't have it all together, and that made life really hard for my mom. She had the three of us to take care of, and she always did, whether she thinks she always did a good job or not.
She never lost sight of what was important (or at least not for long enough for me to notice). She took care of us while teaching us to take care of ourselves, and has now let go as much or as little as each of us needs as we make our way into full adulthood. Most importantly, and the gift I most treasure, she held onto her faith and principles, and passed them on to us.
Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you.
She raised my sister, brother, and I basically by herself (even when she was still married). I love the man my dad was when I knew him, but before that he didn't have it all together, and that made life really hard for my mom. She had the three of us to take care of, and she always did, whether she thinks she always did a good job or not.
She never lost sight of what was important (or at least not for long enough for me to notice). She took care of us while teaching us to take care of ourselves, and has now let go as much or as little as each of us needs as we make our way into full adulthood. Most importantly, and the gift I most treasure, she held onto her faith and principles, and passed them on to us.
Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you.
December 7, 2009
Hungry
Hungry is my most defining personality trait right now. Second place is tied for tired and achy (ache-y? achey? idk). Yay late pregnancy!
Wesley has dropped a little, but as I have no experience with pregnancy, I have no idea if he's dropped as much as he's going to, or if there's more to go. I'm hoping that this is as much as he drops, because I can breath again and I'm running to the bathroom more often than I want.
At my last appointment they said I was negative for group Strep B, which is awesome, because I don't have to worry about antibiotics when I go to the hospital.
We have the nursery almost completely organized, and even if I go into labor today, there's no preparation in there that has to be done. There are certainly things we can do if we have time, but nothing is essential.
And my to do list? It's mostly done. The house is almost completely decorated, the final touches are kind of ancillary so I'm just doing them as I feel like it. The dishes did get done, and I've kept them done. I'm not behind on laundry. As I said the nursery is fairly complete. One of the bathrooms is clean and the other one is nearly so (but we almost never use it, so I'm not as fussed about that).
I can certainly feel that nesting instinct kicking in, though. As I get things done I keep thinking of other things I need to do. The floors haven't been properly scrubbed in awhile, but I'm not going to attempt that since my idea of 'properly scrubbed' is the use of practically boiling water (changed every time it gets dirty) used with floor cleaner and a scrub brush on your hands and knees. I know better than that, but I still want to do it. I'll have to settle for Swiffer.
I'd also like to dust everything, change the sheets on the beds (which I can't do because I can't lift mattresses - especially the king), clean the washer and dryer, use Magic Eraser to clean all the fingerprints off of everything, clean all the windows (pre-requisite for finishing the Christmas Decorations with window clings), and make and freeze about 10-20 more lunches/dinners.
Now, I know I can't get all of that done on my own, and I know I probably won't get all of it done anyway, but it actually feels good to have goals, even if it occasionally feels like I'll never finish. Good practice, right?
Wesley has dropped a little, but as I have no experience with pregnancy, I have no idea if he's dropped as much as he's going to, or if there's more to go. I'm hoping that this is as much as he drops, because I can breath again and I'm running to the bathroom more often than I want.
At my last appointment they said I was negative for group Strep B, which is awesome, because I don't have to worry about antibiotics when I go to the hospital.
We have the nursery almost completely organized, and even if I go into labor today, there's no preparation in there that has to be done. There are certainly things we can do if we have time, but nothing is essential.
And my to do list? It's mostly done. The house is almost completely decorated, the final touches are kind of ancillary so I'm just doing them as I feel like it. The dishes did get done, and I've kept them done. I'm not behind on laundry. As I said the nursery is fairly complete. One of the bathrooms is clean and the other one is nearly so (but we almost never use it, so I'm not as fussed about that).
I can certainly feel that nesting instinct kicking in, though. As I get things done I keep thinking of other things I need to do. The floors haven't been properly scrubbed in awhile, but I'm not going to attempt that since my idea of 'properly scrubbed' is the use of practically boiling water (changed every time it gets dirty) used with floor cleaner and a scrub brush on your hands and knees. I know better than that, but I still want to do it. I'll have to settle for Swiffer.
I'd also like to dust everything, change the sheets on the beds (which I can't do because I can't lift mattresses - especially the king), clean the washer and dryer, use Magic Eraser to clean all the fingerprints off of everything, clean all the windows (pre-requisite for finishing the Christmas Decorations with window clings), and make and freeze about 10-20 more lunches/dinners.
Now, I know I can't get all of that done on my own, and I know I probably won't get all of it done anyway, but it actually feels good to have goals, even if it occasionally feels like I'll never finish. Good practice, right?
December 2, 2009
Blech!
Today is a cold rainy day. I hate cold rainy days. I don't like rain in general, and now it's cold too. Ick!. I wish that means I could stay in bed all day and read, as I would if I didn't have any obligations. But, I do have obligations, things I need to do.
I still have gifts and hand-me-downs to put away in the nursery, and I'm discovering that I don't have enough room for everything. Some of the bigger clothes are just going to have to go in space bags and be put away until Wesley grows into them. And somehow I ended up with four tote-type bags. Four! One is camoflauge, and so we're going to use that as Michael's diaper bag. But the other three? No idea what I'm going to do with them. I hate tote bags, and they generally don't work as real diaper bags because it's just one big hole (which is why I don't like them to begin with). It's beginning to dawn on me how useless some of the stuff people have given us is.
I also need to do the dishes from dinner last night. I was so tired last night I was dizzy, so they didn't get done. Hopefully I'll manage to get them down before dinner tonight.
On the plus side, I have already been to the grocery store, gotten all of the deals without spending any extra money (for once), and come back home and put everything away. So that's done. But I still have so much more to do. The bathrooms need to be cleaned, and all the floors swept, and the sheets changed, and the nursery still needs to be organized some more, and I need to decorate for Christmas. That's not a long list right?
I'm going to go with 'right!', and try to get at least a quantifiable something done today. At least one of those jobs will be done, no matter how cold and rainy it is!
I still have gifts and hand-me-downs to put away in the nursery, and I'm discovering that I don't have enough room for everything. Some of the bigger clothes are just going to have to go in space bags and be put away until Wesley grows into them. And somehow I ended up with four tote-type bags. Four! One is camoflauge, and so we're going to use that as Michael's diaper bag. But the other three? No idea what I'm going to do with them. I hate tote bags, and they generally don't work as real diaper bags because it's just one big hole (which is why I don't like them to begin with). It's beginning to dawn on me how useless some of the stuff people have given us is.
I also need to do the dishes from dinner last night. I was so tired last night I was dizzy, so they didn't get done. Hopefully I'll manage to get them down before dinner tonight.
On the plus side, I have already been to the grocery store, gotten all of the deals without spending any extra money (for once), and come back home and put everything away. So that's done. But I still have so much more to do. The bathrooms need to be cleaned, and all the floors swept, and the sheets changed, and the nursery still needs to be organized some more, and I need to decorate for Christmas. That's not a long list right?
I'm going to go with 'right!', and try to get at least a quantifiable something done today. At least one of those jobs will be done, no matter how cold and rainy it is!
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