Just the stats

Baby John, henceforth to be known as Jack, was born on 9/26/18 at 8:36pm (Wednesday night, after we arrived at the hospital with labor in full swing about 2:15 Wednesday morning).  He weighed 9 lbs even (John says it was actually 9 lbs and .2 oz) and was 21.5 inches long.  (Apparently, I was also 21.5 inches long at birth, but I only weighed 6 lbs, 13oz.)  He’s a giant.  Also, babies typically lose a little weight after birth and it usually takes 10 days to 2 weeks to gain it back.  When we left the hospital, he weighed just under 9 lbs (I don’t remember the exact weight).  We left on Sunday.  On Monday, at his first doctor’s appointment, he weighed 9 lbs, 1 oz.  So….already gained it back.  And then on Thursday, he weighed 9 lbs, 10.5 oz.  Today, at 13 days old, he weights 10 lbs, 9.5 oz, gained an inch in length and half an inch around his head.  This is a large baby.

He’s wonderful.  Even if he does still look like a grumpy old man.

PICTURE MALFUNCTION

Damn it, I have to solve a picture size issue before I can upload anything.  I PROMISE I will do that real soon.

Another day, another…?

D-Day +3.  No change from my perspective, but I saw the doctor today, there’s some progress the details of which I will not go into because really, people, I’m sharing plenty already, and I have another appointment on Friday (assuming there’s no baby by Friday).  If induction is in my future, the earliest would be Saturday, and we’ll make the decision at the appointment on Friday.  There.  Everyone’s up to date.

We saw my least favorite doctor, but thankfully I liked her much better today.  I don’t know what’s different, but I’m glad something was.

It’s tired, and I’m rainy…and that’s my brain right now, so I should stop before I embarrass myself further.

I think we won the neighbor lottery

D-Day + 2, no change, but I have more confirmation that we have pretty great neighbors.  My next-door neighbor was coming home from the gym as I was coming back from my walk, and she, being a nurse, was pretty reassuring and offered (again) to help when/if we need it.  I saw our other immediate neighbors around lunchtime (Kevin and one of the (grown-up) kids) when I stopped by to give them some of last night’s cookie batch, and they insisted on sending me away with apples they picked this past weekend and admonishments to wash my hands as soon as I get home because Kerry has a cold and they don’t want me to get sick.

Nice people.

Unexpected

We’re now at D-Day + 1, which is not a thing I thought would happen.  I mean, I’m aware that only about 5% of babies are born on their due date, so I wasn’t expecting to actually give birth ON SATURDAY.  Maybe I was, subconsciously.  I guess I thought I’d be early, if anything, right up until we got to the last week and there were no signs of impending doom imminent labor.

40 weeks of pregnancy is a long time, guys.  I still feel good – I haven’t reached get-this-baby-out-of-me levels of irritation, but now I’m playing a waiting game, and it’s not my favorite.  Clearly this baby is a procrastinator, just like us.

Being late has started a few conversations with strangers.  We went for a walk on the beach Saturday night and this older guy stopped and asked when we’re due.  “Today” is not the response people expect.  “Yesterday” isn’t either, judging by the reactions I got from the women in the nail salon today.  (I felt I was safe to take the car and leave John at home long enough to get a manicure and get some groceries.)

My back ached for a little bit this evening, but I’d just been bending over, putting groceries away and taking cookies out of the oven (I want to bring some to the neighbors as a thank you and I’m planning on bribing nurses.  No, I’m not nesting.), so it could have been that.  It wasn’t accompanied by contractions.  We’ll see how tonight goes.

In the mail

It’s funny what mundane things we get excited about and which ones are just…mundane.  We got two big boxes from Amazon the other day, both from ourselves, and neither of us could remember what we ordered.  Starting mood: excited. Yay forgotten packages!

John opened the first one: a silverware drawer organizer and a salad spinner.  Mood: still excited.  Our silverware has been sliding around and getting all messed up in a drawer too small for the organizer we had, and we’re both tired of washing lettuce piece by piece.

John opened the second one: a little storage ottoman and rocking chair cushions.  My mood: excited.  We don’t have the rocking chair yet, but when it gets here (Monday?), I’ll have cushions to sit on and an ottoman to put my feet on.   John’s mood: meh.  I guess he’s too tough for cushions.

So for future reference, John’s happy about kitchen organization and super-bored by cushions.  Noted.

Ping-pong

Wednesday’s thought: I feel like a whale.  A whale who never wants to leave the house because it’s too hard.  I walked to the mailbox and back and regretted it.  It takes me an hour to get up the stairs.  I think I’ll just sit down.

Thursday’s thought: I got six hours of sleep IN A ROW.  I feel great!  Let’s go for a walk!  Oh, look, the sun is shining!  Have a chat with the neighbor!  What a cute dog!

Oh, that reminds me.  I dreamed about the dogs last night for the first time in a while.  I woke up actually still able to feel the sensation of scratching behind Roxy’s ear.  It’s sad (I miss them SO much) and not sad because I kind of got to visit them.

Friday morning: Middle ground.  Six hours of sleep probably happened, but NOT in a row.  Moving around isn’t as easy today as yesterday, but it’s possible (and easier once I’m upright).  I went for a walk and it’s a beautiful morning, but today lacks yesterday’s exclamation points.

Tomorrow is D-Day.  Supposed to be.  I’m not counting on it.

Can’t get out of my own way

There’s no question that I’m pretty big now.  At my last appointment, the ultrasound tech estimated that the baby is over 8 lbs.  This is not making me feel better about labor.  Also not making me feel better?  I can’t reach things.  Last night, my eyelashes were trying to stab me in the eye again, so I tried to get close to a mirror to tweeze the offending bastards out, and I COULDN’T LEAN FAR ENOUGH OVER THE SINK.  I washed some dishes today, and I had to stretch to reach the faucet because there’s this ENORMOUS WATERMELON in my way.  And I can’t put it down.

On the brighter side, the itching is mostly gone (still somewhat present at night, but so much better).  I don’t feel like I’m on the verge of amputating my feet anymore.  I’m still not sleeping all that well, but I’m going to chalk that up to having to pee every 1-2 hours and general discomfort.  And hey, let’s call it practice, since I won’t be sleeping more than an hour or two at a stretch for the foreseeable future anyway.

Saturday is the big day, although being this close without any signs doesn’t give me a lot of hope.  Feels to me like I’m going to be late.  (She says, leaning on all her experience.)  I asked about how late they’d let me go without inducing, and they said we’ll talk about it if I reach 41 weeks.  Yeah, well, I have an appointment at 40 weeks, 3 days – I’ll be asking about it then for sure.

A realization, 32 years later

I love Whitney Houston.  I’ve loved her since my first grade teacher sang “The Greatest Love Of All” at the end of the year.  I can’t say exactly when I got her first album and learned all the words to all of the songs, but I finished first grade in 1986, so let’s go with that summer.  (The album came out in 1985, so that’s probably pretty close.)

Anyway, I still know all the words to every song on that album, and if I hear them on the radio, I will always sing along.  The thing is, I don’t hear most of those songs very much anymore, and I’ve known them so long, I don’t really put much thought into them.  The words just come out, like muscle memory.

That’s how I had an epiphany, in real time, while singing along to “Saving All My Love For You” in the car with John this past Sunday.

The song starts.

“A few stolen moments is all that we share”.  My brain pricks up a bit.  Why stolen?  Why can’t they be together?

“You’ve got your family and they need you there.”  Hang on a sec.  Maybe she just means he has kids.

“Though I’ve tried to resist being last on your list”  Could still be that he has kids…

“But no other man’s gonna do
So I’m saving all my love for you.”  Inconclusive.  But now I’m suspicious.  Let’s see what happens next.

“It’s not very easy living all alone
My friends try and tell me find a man of my own.”  Huh.  He’s not hers.  She’s having an affair with a married man!

Skip ahead to the third verse, and any question in my mind was answered:

“You used to tell me we’d run away together
Love gives you the right to be free
You said be patient just wait a little longer
But that’s just an old fantasy.”

How did I not know this?  I can understand not getting it when I was 7, but I’ve known every word and note of this song for 32 years, and it NEVER OCCURRED TO ME to think about what it was about.  Except to giggle inwardly when I got to “we’ll be making love the whole night through”.

I mean, it’s a fantastic song, and I still love her.  (Heh.  I will always love her.)

But what else have I been missing about my favorite songs?

Jinxes are a real thing

The other day I posted about how no one has touched me without permission (except family) through this entire pregnancy.

I spoke too soon.  THE VERY NEXT DAY someone did exactly that.  It wasn’t a stranger, thank goodness, but not yet a friend.  An acquaintance, someone who could become a friend.  She’ll have to learn some boundaries first, though.

And what am I learning? I’m learning that I should keep things to myself.  Stop tempting fate!

Calm yourselves, people

Okay, everyone, take a deep breath.  You know who you are (and there are plenty of you).  I love that you’re so excited, really I do, but I’m trying to stay calm.  A day or two or three without blogging does not mean I’m in the hospital screaming bloody murder and wishing I’d never met John.  Although it could mean that.  And since you won’t know for sure, why get all worked up?  Let’s be good to ourselves and practice our centering exercises and be all zen and shit.  It’ll be healthier for you and it’ll help me, too.

I’m both ready (I don’t want to drag this labor thing out too long, you know?) and very NOT ready (labor and the few weeks after sound AWFUL, physically, and I REALLY don’t want to go through it), so the less I stress about it, the better.

Right?

I mean…right?

Hands to yourself, please

Know what else I’ve been lucky about?  No one – I mean NO ONE – outside of immediate family (they’re allowed) has tried to touch me during this pregnancy.  I haven’t had to fend off ANY unwanted belly-rubbing.  I’d been led to believe this was a problem I’d have to fight constantly.  Maybe I’m giving off a stay-away-from-me-I-bite vibe.  Or maybe Rhode Islanders understand personal space.  Whatever the reason, I am NOT complaining.