When I last blogged in June, I was 9 weeks and miserable. I am now 31 weeks (and still miserable). There are new developments, though:
First, I am having a boy. Little Mister Faith is appropriately named – Justin Leal Botts. Justin meaning – just, upright, righteous; and Leal meaning Faithful. But as one of my close friends pointed out Just-In-Faith!
I was shocked when I found out that I was having another boy, but relieved when I had time to think about it. I will not have to deal with all the girly emotions, make-up and clothes. I will have another "mother-lover"! Sons, usually, adore there moms. I pray that this is the same with Justin.
Second, Justin is a baby ninja in the belly! My little rib-hugger (who sits under my right rib for most of the day) is also a kickboxer. He packs quite a punch and he is SUPER active! He kicks all night and getting sleep is hard to do, hence the misery. Also, because he is a rib-hugger, my heartburn is EXTREME! Fortunately, I have Pepcid and Zantac for that!
GREAT NEWS! I do not have gestational diabetes! I had to endure the grueling 3 hour test of straight sugar in a drink (glucose) and having my blood drawn 4 times in 3 hours, but the result was golden! And am I EVER grateful to God! The hours of waiting wasn't so bad because I entertained myself with crocheting a baby blanket.
At this point in life, my house is a wreck, I get winded at the thought of walking and all I want to do is crochet and sleep – if Justin would let me!
31 weeks and counting ... COME ON week 40!
Friday, November 13, 2015
Monday, June 15, 2015
Oh Pregnancy ... What a Joy [Pain]!
I was told that during this time of pregnancy, I should journal my thoughts, feelings, etc. I am quite sure those who suggested this post did not have what I am about to portray in mind.
While you may think of pregnancy as an intimate time of mother-bonding and portrait taking...moments remiss if you aren't cherishing your "bump", I am not like minded.
You see, I am –by no means– in love with being pregnant. After suffering through my first (miserable) pregnancy with my son (who is soon to be 10 years old) and the loss of 4 angels, the novelty of pregnancy is far from gone. Adios, out the window, caput, GONE.
I find nothing joyous about sore-HUGE breasts, an unflattering waistline, a distorted baby bump (B-shaped), miserable weight gain, flatulence, heartburn, the stabbing pains of hunger, overeating, overwhelming fatigue and let's not mention the super sense of smell that has me hating everything with a scent (including my scalp). When I was prego with my son (not currently happening in this pregnancy – I had bad acne, the mask of pregnancy and gestational diabetes). I don't want to be touched, I don't want to be talked to or approached, all I want is sleep AND for this baby to come out. In fact, I wish he (my devoted husband) could carry the baby!
If one more jolly woman comes by me talking about how wonderful pregnancy is I will chop her in her throat (literally, that is what my pumped up levels of progesterone and hormones want me to do, however, I do know better than to act it out!) CHOP! (Jesus be a fence, PLEASE!)
Did I mention that I haven't even cleared the first trimester, yet?
Yes, I am 9 weeks and a day and my new resident could not –healthy, fullterm and whole– vacate the premises sooner!
Don't get me wrong. This baby is a miracle. She stormed into the world, very unexpectedly, after a miscarriage just weeks prior. I never even had a cycle between the loss and the new pregnancy. (Yes, my husband has super sperm and I am super fertile, obviously). I secretly longed for a child, but would dismiss the notion with thoughts like these: Um...your almost 40 (now 40), your grands –by marriage– will be older than your baby (still true), there goes my freedom (my son is often with his biological father). Selfish thoughts of enjoying my life after my son goes to college. Not of raising children 10 years apart. And though I love this baby, I do not love being pregnant and ultimately am not in love with what it means for my lifestyle.
But then there is the thought of holding, and nurturing and caring for "lil Miss Faith" (yes, I believe the baby is a girl and her name will be Faith). I am in love with that, but pregnancy is for thebirds whales!
While you may think of pregnancy as an intimate time of mother-bonding and portrait taking...moments remiss if you aren't cherishing your "bump", I am not like minded.
You see, I am –by no means– in love with being pregnant. After suffering through my first (miserable) pregnancy with my son (who is soon to be 10 years old) and the loss of 4 angels, the novelty of pregnancy is far from gone. Adios, out the window, caput, GONE.
I find nothing joyous about sore-HUGE breasts, an unflattering waistline, a distorted baby bump (B-shaped), miserable weight gain, flatulence, heartburn, the stabbing pains of hunger, overeating, overwhelming fatigue and let's not mention the super sense of smell that has me hating everything with a scent (including my scalp). When I was prego with my son (not currently happening in this pregnancy – I had bad acne, the mask of pregnancy and gestational diabetes). I don't want to be touched, I don't want to be talked to or approached, all I want is sleep AND for this baby to come out. In fact, I wish he (my devoted husband) could carry the baby!
If one more jolly woman comes by me talking about how wonderful pregnancy is I will chop her in her throat (literally, that is what my pumped up levels of progesterone and hormones want me to do, however, I do know better than to act it out!) CHOP! (Jesus be a fence, PLEASE!)
Did I mention that I haven't even cleared the first trimester, yet?
Yes, I am 9 weeks and a day and my new resident could not –healthy, fullterm and whole– vacate the premises sooner!
Don't get me wrong. This baby is a miracle. She stormed into the world, very unexpectedly, after a miscarriage just weeks prior. I never even had a cycle between the loss and the new pregnancy. (Yes, my husband has super sperm and I am super fertile, obviously). I secretly longed for a child, but would dismiss the notion with thoughts like these: Um...your almost 40 (now 40), your grands –by marriage– will be older than your baby (still true), there goes my freedom (my son is often with his biological father). Selfish thoughts of enjoying my life after my son goes to college. Not of raising children 10 years apart. And though I love this baby, I do not love being pregnant and ultimately am not in love with what it means for my lifestyle.
But then there is the thought of holding, and nurturing and caring for "lil Miss Faith" (yes, I believe the baby is a girl and her name will be Faith). I am in love with that, but pregnancy is for the
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)