Around here these days...

How I managed to keep this blog current and active after the births of Seth, Duncan, and Erin is an enigma.  I definitely feel that there are fewer than 24 hours in my days these days, and there just isn't time to blog.  If there were an easier way to morph my Facebook photos, check-ins, and status updates into blog posts, we'd be in business, but until then, here is just some late June/early July randomness...

Jim and I took Seth on a one-on-two date to Buffalo Wild Wings and IKEA Canton to pick up his new bunk beds.  (I have yet to get a good picture of the beds either in his room, or in use, but here is a bunk-bed-unrelated picture of the boys playing Angry Bird.)

I have been hard at work switching over all the kiddo rooms.  We've finally moved into the master bedroom, so Erin is moving to our room, Seth is shifting to hers, and eventually James will land in Seth's original room. Though Seth's room got the first change with the arrival of his bunks, Erin's room has been getting the most attention because its first occupant will actually be Tiffany, when she come to stay in just a couple of weeks.  I finished painting the head- and footboard this week, and plan to finish "dressing" the room this weekend (though I know all my fluffing is premature, since the room is getting painted next weekend.  Oh, well.).

Two weekends ago, we celebrated Sara and Angie's 23+7th birthdays with a backyard barbeque, and it was all kinds of awesome.  Sara, ever the amazeballs hostess, had set up a "photo booth" with props, and a bubble station, and a craft area to make these awesome masks...

Here is the biggest B and the littlest G chillin' out in the cool house (did I mention we've been having record-setting triple digit heat waves up here?  It's yucky!), after Zeke stepped barefoot on a peach pit and was down for the count for the night.

 

This boy is all kinds of awesome, and seems to be growing before my eyes each time I blink.  His vocabulary, his imagination, and yes, even his attitude, are all of a boy who isn't so little any more.

Let's see, what else?

I mentioned it's been HOTSOHOTHOTHOTHOTOHSOHOTTTT!!!!, so I've been getting creative with meals, because, hello, who wants to cook when it is 112?  So, yes, there have been some lunches that consisted solely of sliced apples and sprinkled whipped cream

 

Both Seth and Erin have been logging some quality hours with Gramp-e, but there is something special about the relationship these two boys have.  Last weekend, I was sitting at a red light only to hear catcalls come through my open passenger window, from these two, on their way to a pancake breakfast.

 

In the "me" arena....  I've been back on Weight Watchers for about three weeks, and am happy to say am having the same results as last summer, even with all the extra calories I'm "allowed" because I'm a nursing mom.  As of this weeks' weigh in, I'm officially down 30 lbs from my end-of-pregnancy weight.  YEA!  Not that there isn't a looong way to go yet, but I'm on track to be at my goal weight in October.  Which, yes, some days (like, when it's the aforementioned 112 degrees) seems like FOREVER AWAY, but I also know, just from a quick look at the calendar, that the weeks (and mostly the weekends) are going to fly, and I'm going to be pumpkin-picking in my pre-wedding (yes, circa 2004!) jeans before I know it.

I'm growing my hair back out (I still don't know what happened to break down the communication between me and my stylist when I asked for a "trim" before James was born.  I'm in a slump with the grow stage that we're at right now, but every once in a while, when it's not 112 degrees and I put in some effort, I can pull off a GHD. =)

Last weekend, Sara and I and two other girlfriends spent an entire Saturday prepping 10 freezer meals.  It was an experience, to say the least, but it was fun, and successful, and economical, and we will most assuredly be doing it again, if not quarterly.  I'll have to (eventually) blog about the recipes we chose, and rate them.  Regardless of the yum-factor-to-be-seen, though, I'd encourage you all to try to plan a freezer cooking day with your besties.  And if your newborn son is as wonderful a sleeper as mine, you can take him along, too.

And that's all, folks....!

There is more, always more, to share, to report, to chat about, but, my littlest little needs to be fed, so, sayonara for now, interpeeps!

6.22.12

Outside my window... it is overcast, but there is blue skies peeking through.

I am thinking...  about the balance between forgiveness and self-preservation.  (I know; deep for a Friday afternoon.)

I am thankful...  that even though I don't remember caring for James in the middle of the night, that there is evidence that he was fed and changed and woke up breathing and healthy.  Oy vey.  I need some sleep, with a nanny in the other room. 

In the kitchen... there is an empty take-out container from my Max and Erma's salad that I didn't have the chance to eat last night. 

I am wearing... NOT maternity pants =) and a nursing tank.

I am creating... Pinterest boards for the kiddos' new rooms, to commence in a week or two.

I am going... to pick up Seth from preschool, then to karate with Seth and Lucas, and then to Costco for a Friday family date night.

I am reading... through my blog feed reader; that's it. 

I am hoping... for beautiful weather for our birthday party cookout Saturday night!

I am looking forward to... a date with Jim, sometime.

I am learning... to trust my gut. 

Around the house... it is quiet.  Erin and James are both napping. 

A favorite quote for today... "Do not use harmful words, but only helpful words, the kind that build up and provide what is needed," Eph. 4:29

One of my favorite things... Almond Joy candy.  And I've found a Turkey Hill ice cream to match that passion. 

A few plans for the rest of the week...karate, Costco, laundry, banana pudding and pasta salad prepping, birthday party cookout, sleepover and Grandma's, baseball game with Jim and James . 

James 1/12

Do y’all hear the weeping coming out of your computer speakers, all over the country?  It’s me, bemoaning the fact that the littlest mister is already an entire month old.  Time is moving so much faster than I would wish….

It’s been an interesting month, though moreso at the beginning, when we were averaging a doctor visit every few days.   At 6 days old, James had us back at the hospital for blood draws to check bilirubin levels.  His results were borderline, but low enough to keep us away from having to do phototherapy.

Then, between weeks one and two, we started to realize James’ was having difficulty keeping his feeds down, whether he nursed or took pumped breast milk from a bottle.  A visit to his pediatrician showed that he was in fact gaining weight, albeit slowly.  We were asked to have an ultrasound done to rule out pyloric stenosis, which, yea for us!, came back negative.  Which left us with a handful of other possible diagnosis for the projectile vomiting after every. single. feed.  (a) James has reflux, and we are addressing that with baby Zantac, and we’ll see how his weight gain is at his one month check up next week; (b) that his gastrointestinal track is merely immature, and the issue will self resolve in the next several weeks; or (c)  that something in my diet isn’t agreeing with him.  We will see what Dr. P has to say next week.

We haven’t wasted any time in introducing James to our crazy-busy lifestyle.  He’s been to Chipotle, the pool, church, the park, karate lessons, photo shoots grocery shopping…  He doesn’t seem to love his car seat like Seth did, but he sure doesn’t hate it like Erin did.  I’ll take it.

 
We’re teaching him early the importance of happy hour. ;)

Hey, look!  A picture that actually caught him wide-eyed.  (They are rare!)  He still sleeps a lot.  We’ve even had a few nights where he slept from 10:30 PM until 5:00ish AM.  Good for rest, but BAD for my poor milk-producing front region!

Speaking of my front regions….I’m nursing.  I don’t know that I mentioned that in my 40w update post, but it is worth mentioning again, if I did.  I really had convinced myself that I just wasn’t cut out to nurse, and that I was just going to find myself exclusively pumping again.  But this little guy knows his way around, and despite some latching issues in the beginning, we’re getting it like old pros.  Yea, us!

Seth and Erin have adjusted fairly well.  Erin actually better than anticipated, and Seth not as well.  When James cries, Seth actually sticks his fingers in his ears and shouts “PACIFIER!!!” at the top of his lungs – as if yelling for me to stick something in James’ mouth is going to get me to move any faster.  Erin, on the other hand, is a little mother.  She adores James and is completely attentive to his needs.  Unreal.

We are still using newborn diapers and newborn clothing, though I know I’m going to blink, and those onesies aren’t going to snap anymore.

Until then, I’m cherishing each moment I can steal to just snuggle him under my chin and breathe in his milky newborn scent.

Wordless Wednesday 6.13.12

 

Since he wasn’t interested in his paci, she thought maybe he’d want Woody instead.

BLTN: Erin’s birthday celebration

We kept it simple this year….poor baby girl, already getting the shaft due to baby brother. ;)

But really, what more does a girl need to celebrate her special day than a chocolate cake?  Especially if it is lovingly crafted by your big brother.
 

She wasn’t so sure about the singing and the cameras and the lit candles….

  But, she was all about the cake itself.  That’s my girl.
 

Ah, and then there was the present.  (Her one and only….but she is two.  She won’t remember how many gifts she got.)  Thankfully, she was SUPER EXCITED OMG DO YOU SEE MY NEW BIKE!!!!!?????, so all was well in birthday world.

 
And, yes, Seth is secure in his manhood.  All in the name of birthday fun, people.

Only one of us is ready

Guess who is getting ready to move to a big girl bed?

The weekend before James was born, we headed up to IKEA to kill some time and to shop for the bunk beds that we are planning to get for Seth this summer.
While we were there, we found this super cute, super affordable white platform bed that seems ideal for Erin when we pull the crib from her room for James.

She still isn’t the world’s best sleeper, so I’m not sure how she is going to do in an unconfined bed, but….we’ll figure it out.  I’ll keep y’all posted on how she does, and how her room transforms from nursery to “big girl.”  (I know, I know, Andrea, I still haven’t posted pictures of her room as is….I’ll get on that, too, I promise!)

Wordless Wednesday 6.6.12

Radiator Springs, Dollar Store style

I’ve gotten really, really good at drawing the World grand Prix and Radiator Springs with sidewalk chalk.

Version 001 was at my inlaw’s, and we’ve recreated it twice at home, resulting in hours of outdoor fun.

Yeah, I pretty much get super-mom status for this one. Go, me!

The Ducks

We weren’t sure who was going to hatch first. The ducklings, or our little one.

I honestly don’t know which came first.

But by the time we came home from the hospital on the 23rd, this is what we found under the hydrangea bush outside the dining room window.

The momma and her babies have already abandoned her nest, yet I find it hard to clean up the egg shells and rake out the mulch….

40w Update

How far along: Today is my due date!  Or, at least, one of them.  Between my four doctors, I had four due dates: May 27, May 31, June 2, or June 3.  But according to MY calculations, today was the forty week mark.  I have to admit, I’m thrilled to be two weeks post-partum rather than still pregnant at forty weeks.

Total weight gain: I ended up gaining 25 lbs for the entirety of James’ pregnancy.  25 from my starting weight, and (gulp!) 38 from the lowest weight reached during the first tri sickness.  As of today, I only have 2 lbs to lose to be back at the starting weight; so that makes 15 to lose to get back on track with where I was during my Weight Watchers journey at the end of summer last year.  I’m giving myself a few more weeks to regulate my milk supply and to wean off a couple of my meds, and then I plan to sign back up with WW Online.

General disposition:  It’s been an interesting two weeks.  James is an amazing baby, and in the parenting department, I’m feeling pretty good.  We’ve had a few extenuating family issues come up in the past couple weeks, and those have had me anxious and sad, but I’m dealing.  Dr. Gibbs wants me to talk to a counselor; we’ll see.

Sleep:  I’m actually sleeping well enough.  James eats about 11 pm, and then not again until 3ish, and then 7, so not too bad in the middle-of-the-night wakings.  But I have to admit, being up that hour in the middle of the night is no fun, and I feel pretty groggy when I wake up for the day.

Best moment this week: It’s hard to narrow down – it’s been a great week.  I think one of my favorite moments was just this morning, cuddling on the couch with Jim and Erin before he headed out for the day.  The contentedness was so pure.

Movement:  Let’s go with my movement.  My recovery from the c-section has been a BREEZE.  Seriously, hands down, my easiest recovery.  I have yet to actually have any pain from the actual surgery.  I’ve had some cramping the past few days, but Dr. Gibbs said that is actually more from the tubal.  I’ve not had any hemorrhoid issues (thank you, Jesus!!!).  I have some pretty yucky headaches lingering from some complications with my spinal.  But overall?  I feel great!   

Labor Signs/Body Changes of Note:  I’ve already touched on my weight, and how I’m feeling.  My body has yet to really morph back into a shape that fits into pre-pregnancy clothes, but I know that will come.  James is actually nursing – which is a whole new experience! – and my milk came in about day three, so, yeah, there is that change. =)

What I miss:  Not a whole lot!  It’s no secret that things got SO HARD at the end.  I honestly don’t miss being pregnant one bit.  I’m so, so, so happier with James on the outside.

What I am looking forward to:  I’m looking forward to so much….I just want time to slow down a little so I can enjoy this newborn stage as much as possible!

And just to close…here is a picture of the sweet little man at two weeks old, napping away while mommy blogs:

James Ethan

I always wanted to be a mommy to three boys.

And last Saturday, that dream came true.

James Ethan was born via c-section at 8:37 AM, Saturday, May 19, 2012.  He weighed 6 lbs., 7 oz., and was 20” long.  Like his sister, he spent his first day in the NICU on oxygen and a feeding tube, but was back in my arms Sunday.

 
For my own documentation, I’ll come back in another post and fill in the gaps about the c-section and our hospital stay and my recovery.   I just needed to get his arrival up on the blog before any more days passed.  Sometimes, I forget not everyone I know and love is on Facebook (Hi, Kendra!), so many of you haven’t heard this news, let alone have seen the adorableness that is my fourthborn.

Thus far, he is my most mellow baby; is nursing like a champ (huge surprise there!); and has already stolen my heart in a way that I seriously did not expect.

Memorial Day memories

It’s hard to believe it’s been eight years since Jim introduced me to Doug and Sara.  Oh, if I’d only known!  And I’m so glad that first impressions don’t really count, because I was such lousy company, thanks to horrible allergies and a Benadryl haze.

And here we are, eight years, seven kids, a handful of jobs, and dozens of barbeques later…

     

Birthday

Sweet baby boy,

I can’t even imagine who you’d be today.

I think about three-year-old Seth.  His monkey birthday party, with his best friend Gage and his hero Charlie.  Remembering what his vocabulary was, continuing the nightmare that was potty training.  Figuring out how to parent a toddler who was becoming more pure boy each day.

I see two-going-on-three Erin.  Yes, she is just days into this two-year-old stage, and yet, it is already so evident to see the toddler she is going to be versus the baby I’ve grown to love so.  She skip-hops down the street, Bentlie dangling by a sidewalk chalk-streaked ear from Erin’s grip.  She has a fiery personality (which is a mommy’s polite way of saying that she has a temper) and a sweet heart.  And she is like no one I’ve ever known.

And then there is you.  Is it sad and macabre and morbid to say that I sometimes think of you as my ghost child?

You were little person who never got to be anything more than a dream.  A one-pound miracle occurrence that touched my body for 158 days, my arms for 12 hours, and my soul forever.  On one hand, it’s a comfort to know that I can “make” you into whomever I’d want you to be.  Whatever blend of your daddy and me that I can imagine, in both looks and personality.  I wonder if you’d be like Micah, in true just-a-blink-younger-than-your-brother style.  I wonder if you favorite color would be green, just because it’s Seth’s favorite color.  OR.  If your favorite color would be anything BUT green, because it’s Seth’s favorite color.  Would you have Seth’s dark eyes, or Erin’s blue?  Would your hair have a rare double crown like your big brother, or swirl delicately from the right like your little sister?  I wonder about these trivial things, I suppose, because nothing about her child is ever truly trivial.  Not to a mother.

I can’t say that I doubt our decision to have you cremated.  I’m glad that we didn’t have to pick a final in-the-ground resting place for you, because I can’t imagine how we would have made that choice: to return to Tennessee and leave you in Ohio; or to return you with us to White House, only to leave you two years later.  That said, I struggle with not seeing your tree throughout the week.

It, as I suspected it might, became your place.  You are there, to me, more than anywhere else on earth.  Not so much your urn, though I know that holds your earthly remains.  Not your blanket, though I know it cradled your brief stay with us.  Not your footprint ornament, though I know it was the last thing you touched.  No.  It is your tree, so carefully selected and planted by a family who loved you immensely, simply as a reflection of the love they had for me and your daddy.  I stand at the tree, and I feel close to you.  I feel whole in a way that only comes when I am free to publicly acknowledge you, and my role as your mother, even in your absence.

I asked Andrea to pick up birthday balloons for you today, and to tie them to your tree in my absence.  While I know there are few people on earth that love you more than her family – especially AP – it still hurts that it is a “surrogate mommy” doing this favor for me.  If I weren’t otherwise occupied today, I think I would have made the delivery myself, just to be near you on your third birthday.

Speaking of that “other” occupation….

Oh, baby.  I know you aren’t here.  I know birthdays are so foolishly irrelevant in heaven.  But today has always been YOUR day.  People all over the world know that May 19 is Duncan Thomas’ birthday.  But today, you become even a little bit more human, in the fact that you learn a lesson that all people who have a sibling need to learn, and that is to share.

You see, today, you become a big brother again.  You’ve shared your birth month of May with your sister; today you share your birth day with your newest brother (or sister… I’m writing this when only God yet knows the identity of our new baby).

It was a day that we would have chosen to avoid.  Not so much because it is a sad, tragic day.  Because it wasn’t.  Not really.  It was a beautiful day that was completely, entirely, utterly about you.  Treasuring you. Getting to know everything we could about you.  Before we had to say goodbye.  So, really, the 20th was the sad day.  But the 19th….it was the day of your birth.  You were our little fighter rockstar, Duncan, and May 19 was YOUR DAY.

And now we’ve asked you to share.  Or rather, God, via Dr. Gibbs, has asked us to share what had become sacred and solely yours.

My immediate reaction of course was no!  Especially when I thought we’d had the perfect day all squared away – May 11.  Eight days after your sister’s birthday, eight days before yours.  Perfect.  Planned.  Scheduled.  And foiled.  By no one’s fault, per se.  But foiled, nonetheless.  And then, because of the crazy, frantic, bureaucratic, paper-driven, insurance-heavy world we live in today, we were handed the “last resort” option of welcoming your little brother or sister on the morning of your birthday.  But then, the voice of reason, aka Daddy, was brought into the loop, and as soon as I told him what the doctor had said, your daddy responded without hesitation, “I’m okay with it.  I actually think it’s going to be really special.”  (He gets that sweet, sensible, sensitivity from your Gramma, I think, because when I told her, she said, “I think it’s an honor, really.”)

If you care – which, in my heart I know you don’t – it would sure help your worrisome momma to know you would feel the same way as Daddy and Gramma.  I would like to think that your little three-year-old self might even be excited to get to share your birth day date with your little brother or sister.  And just in case your weren’t all that excited, I also know we would spend the next 20 years making sure you both felt special, unique, and individually celebrated on your birth days.

So, of course, now that I’ve managed to turn YOUR birthday letter into more about your new sibling than you (ugh, failing at the “individual” celebration already), I just have to tell you again, and again and again and again….

I love you.  I miss you every day.  I know that logically if you were here, Erin wouldn’t be, and what mother can fathom choosing one child over another, but that logic doesn’t stop me from wishing Seth had his little brother riding shotgun in his big blue truck.  My heart aches for weeks in early May as I cling to the memory of my last days with you.  Sometimes, I order pasta pomodoro even when I don’t want it, because it was the last meal I had while you were with me, and it’s “ours.”  Just because the things that belong to just you and me are so few, and heartbreakingly less than the moments and memories I’ll acquire with your siblings, I still need you to know – I need the world to know – that I love you passionately.  I love you fiercely.  I love you as much as each of my “take home” babies – and maybe, in some other realm, even more.

Apple Jack…..I miss you.  I miss you every day, in ways that only the two of us realize or recognize.  Your memory, your place hasn’t dimmed in the three years since you left.  Your place in my heart, in our home, as our second child is firm and unshakable.

I promise, no matter what is contained in the blog post I write next…today is your day.  It’s your birthday.  Today, I will consciously, deliberately, and joyfully celebrate YOU.

Happy birthday, baby.  We miss you.  We love you.  The first thing I’m going to eat after surgery is birthday cake for you.

Love, Mommy

If I’d only known…

I hate that I don’t have any photos to accompany this post.  We’re all moms with smartphones; you think we’d be used to whipping out the cameras to capture rare memorable moments.

Alas.

For the past, oh, I don’t know, at least 4, maybe 5 years, Jim and some of his best friends…oh wait, I do have a picture for this!

Anyways, these five guys have gathered in the Dayton/Cinci area for a annual guys’ weekend in the spring for the past half-decade.  It usually involves several hours of March Madness watching. golfing, Dave & Buster’s, Montgomery Inn, Bill’s Donuts, and general “boy stuff.”  And while we wives have never stood in the way of this tradition or begrudged our hard-working hubbys this getaway, we have gradually hinted at a reciprocal weekend for us girls.

And this past September, we actually pulled it off.

Four of us girls met up in West Chester, Ohio for a 48-hour retreat of shopping, eating, and girl time.  And we kept up pretty good pace with the boys when it comes to the eating department.

We met up late Friday afternoon at our hotel, and enjoyed a relaxing (kid-free!!!!) dinner at Bravo!, followed by a screening of the chic flick I Don’t Know How She Does It.  Saturday was full of outlet mall shopping, followed by uber-yumminess at the aforementioned Montgomery Inn, and then Graeter’s ice cream (which, really, wasn’t all that impressive; I’ll take my Handel’s any day).

Anyway, the point of this post actually isn’t about marking this weekend, though it is probably worth documenting, because the likelihood that we’ll manage it again any time soon is slim.

The funny part is this…

As we were headed to dinner Friday night, I marveled from the backseat of Nikki’s crossover, “I can’t believe we actually, finally, are doing this.  Then again, it’s the first time we haven’t had at least one of us pregnant or nursing in the last 5 years.”

And then Kristen, who strangely had insisted on sitting in the front seat due to a sudden onset of car-sickness, sheepishly says, “Well, that’s not exactly true…”  Hooray!  She was announcing to us that she was about 9 weeks pregnant with her third child.

Between dinner and our movie, as the four of us walked around the local shops, we each shared our current positions on our growing families.  Nikki and Jerry have one son, Jackson, and while they may want additional children, Nikki is pursing an administrative/principal certification and position within her school district so the timing is less than ideal to expand their family; Craig and Steph have three-year-old Aaron, sweet Zachary in heaven, and are pursuing Chinese adoption; Kristen had just shared her news that they were adding #3 to 4-yr-old Emily and 2-yr-old Aiden; and then there was me.

I remember saying to Stephanie, “I’m so glad Jim and I already have decided to put off any baby-making for at least the next year, because I think I’d have learned Kristen’s news, and totally gotten baby envy,” to which Kristen overheard and responded, “Yeah, just watch, I’ll call you in a couple months, and you’ll be pregnant.”

This was Friday night.

On Wednesday, I ducked out of choir practice early to pick up a Dollar Tree pregnancy test.

And, yes, we laughed a when I sent Kristen the text that said, “You know how you said you’d call in a couple months and I’d tell you I was pregnant?”  Little did I know that if I’d had any inclination that girls’ weekend, I’d have gotten a positive result on a pregnancy test….

Anyways.  Not my most eloquently written or profound blog post.

But given the emotion of this week, it’s good to reflect on how this final gestational journey of mine started.

Flashback

It is the third week of May, and the weather is perfect.  Cool breezes, bright blue skies, sleeping with the windows open.

I stand in my mother-in-law’s bathroom, and let the hot water beat over my swollen belly.  I rub the loofah, dripping with Ivory, over too-tight skin, and I start to hyperventilate, just a bit.

Move, I think.  Please, just move.  I can’t handle this, please, just a little move.

You’d think I was just having a horrible flashback, but I’m not.  I’m fully present, three years later almost to the day, and I’m not talking to Duncan, I’m talking to our sweet, unborn fourth child.

I’m 38w pregnant, and I was never supposed to see this day.

My MFMs in Tennessee said I’d be fortunate to make it to 30w, given my history.  But 30w came, and then 34w, and I slowly crept closer to the magical 37w mark that would allow Dr. Gibbs to take this baby from in  to out, and we could all breathe easier.

But.

Last Thursday, I had an amnio. Just a precaution, said the doctors.  We’re fully expecting perfect results.  Be at the hospital Friday morning at 6:30 for your c-section.

I had the amnio.  I dropped Seth and Erin off at my in-laws.  My mom and I enjoyed a pricey Italian meal while Jim golfed.  And at 9:30 pm, Dr. Gibbs cancelled my c-section due to “poor results” from the amnio.

Disappointed.  Anxious.  Angry.  Discouraged.  Miserable.  All these emotions and more overwhelmed me, and any clarity that may have let me appreciate the fact that I was sparing my baby NICU time.

May 11 was supposed to be this baby’s birthday, and it wasn’t.

Tuesday, I had a routine NST, which the baby failed miserably, prompting Dr. Gibbs to order a BPP, which the baby passed beautifully.  Little stinker.  So, we wait.

And while we wait, I become more pregnant.  More uncomfortable.  More apprehensive.

The baby, while we know is small, is still, for all intents and purposes, out of room.  Therefore, movement is slowing down.  A lot.

And I’m terrified.

I’ve spent more time on my left side, consuming gummy bears and chocolate covered raisins and Pepsi, than I’ve spent the whole pregnancy.

Friday morning, I will have another NST, and based on today’s (lack of) movement, I’m anticipating another BPP.  And since my children apparently like to mess with my head, I’m sure the baby will again cooperate, and we will wait some more.

I’m so tired.  I’m so emotionally and physically drained, and I just want this to be over.  Which is a sad way to end this final pregnancy of mine.

But as Duncan’s third birthday approaches, and garage sale signs begin to litter Walbridge yards, and the cottonwood drift from the trees to my sinuses, I sit.  Swollen belly.  Heavy heart.  The kicks slow, and the flashbacks quicken, and I find myself willing away the hours til I can take an Ambien and sleep away more hours, just to wake to another day of waiting.