Friday, December 5, 2014

thirty one weeks

I have been trying to write a funny blog the past few days about these days and how un-fun they are. Because, trust me- this is the hangover that just won't end. My thought was to call it "Trials of the third child's third trimester." Catchy, right?

After writing and erasing over and over, I came to the conclusion that I should call the blog "Cheese for my whine." Because I was not reading things that were potentially funny, rather I was reading a whiny person whining about whines. And it was whiny.

For instance, I have had a head cold for the past two weeks and it has been nothing short of miserable. I have been a snot factory and it's been ... well, it's been gross. The head cold makes me sneeze, cough, and snore myself awake.

When the snoring wakes me up, I realize that I have to go to the bathroom- again. On average, I am up six to eight times a night back and forth to the bathroom or the hall closet for more Tums. I am worse than an old lady. I am a young lady with the bladder of someone three times my age.

Yesterday, I was working in the old guest room/new nursery when I started coughing. I felt it coming on, which meant there was time to cross my legs thus preventing an accident. However, I didn't feel the "pooks" come on. And come on, they did. Before I can finish coughing, I am already on the way to the bathroom to wash my face, change my clothes and head back to the nursery to clean up the floor.

Pregnancy is humiliating. Pregnancy is humbling.

I start projects that I, physically, cannot finish. It makes me cry. Literally. My hormones are not squarely in their home. Rather, they are all over the board. Mom offered to keep both kids the other night while Husband was on call and it made me cry because I felt guilty not being able to keep my children.

That being said, I kissed their pretty curls and told them we would see each other after a good night's rest.

I cried when I went to bed at 7:45.

The other day, a stranger and I were making small talk and she asked what I was having.

"A boy," I said and smiled.

The woman... the woman had the nerve to respond with, "OH! So, now you can stop having children since you have your boy! That's wonderful."

If I could have found an elegant way to slap her without feeling guilt- I would have. As if to cheapen my first two children who are amazing. As if they had no worth. As if having daughters was inferior. Instead, I smiled politely and said that we were very thankful that this blessing was healthy and continuing to grow. We would continue to see what the Lord will provide for us. Maybe it was the hormones that made me mad at her response or maybe it was her response. Either way, I excused myself. No need to show my Medusa curls to a stranger.

So, I've been tired. And having trouble breathing. And throwing up. And am not what I would call "glowing" in these moments. But, I am in the home stretch. We scheduled the c-section for February 2, which opens a whole new can about childcare. And scheduling. And and and... And I think I will let someone with a more level head, less snot and fewer raging hormones figure those things out for me.


BettieBoyd said...

All will be well, Rachel, so glad for you.

Sarah O'Neill said...

Hang in there buddy!!