Baby 2.0 Prep

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Lately, I’ve been feeling like maybe the Lexapro is finally starting to kick in. Everything in my life is starting to feel calmer and more relaxed. Sort of like, OK, I know this baby is coming and it’s going to bring chaos into our lives (because that’s what babies do), but we’ll just put on our seat belts and go along for the ride. It feels manageable, where it absolutely did not feel that way a month ago. So that’s good.

And since I’m feeling calmer, I’m starting to focus more on what needs to be done before this kid arrives. I realize, of course, since this isn’t my first baby, that I don’t need to do that much. It’s funny, I had this ridiculously long to-do list before Catie was born, and this time, it’s more like:

* The infant car seat needs to be installed.
* Wash some newborn-size clothes.
* Have some burp cloths, bibs, and receiving blankets on hand, in case she’s a puker.

That’s really about it. And I’ve done all that stuff, so now I get to chill out and focus on the other non-essential stuff. Dave painted the baby’s room and set up the crib (even though she’ll be in the Pack ‘n’ Play in our room for at least the first several weeks). I got a new, super-cute diaper bag from my sister. I’m thinking about what type of bottles I want to buy, since our old ones were before that whole BPA thing was a known issue, and I’ve since thrown them all out. I have some cute wall stickers to put up in her room. But it all feels like bonus stuff at this point, nothing urgent or mandatory.

Of course, nevermind the fact that this this poor kid doesn’t even have a name yet, because Dave and I can’t make up our minds, but I’m not really stressed about that. Either we’ll figure it out when she gets here, or I’ll wait until Dave isn’t paying attention and put down the name that I want on her birth certificate. (Ha! Just kidding, Dave!) (Mostly.)

And it’s weird, I have had a sneaking suspicion throughout this entire pregnancy that this baby might come a little bit early. I don’t know why, but way back when I was first given my May 31st due date, I thought, “Nope, it’ll be sooner than that.” Of course, I don’t want her to come dangerously early or anything, but this is just a weird gut feeling I’ve had all along. Catie was born a week early (her due date was February 2nd, she showed up on January 27th), so I have no real basis to think that anything different would happen this time around. But for some reason, I can’t get that thought out of my head.

So, you know, if I’m looking at this kid showing up within the next month, instead of six weeks from now? At least it’s nice to know that I feel somewhat prepared.

partially solving a mystery

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Today at work, my cell phone rang and it was Dave. Not normally a big thing, right? Spouses call each other at the office. It happens. But the ensuing conversation was not at all what I expected.

Dave: So, a policeman is here at the house. They found your purse and your mom’s purse.

Me: WHAT?!?!!

Dave: Yeah. Uh, here, I’ll let him tell you.

So, the police officer gets on the phone, and explains that the best he can figure, whoever stole the purses tossed them down a storm drain, because a maintenance worker found them in a retention pond in the next subdivision over from ours. Which is where they’ve been for a month. He warned me that there wasn’t really anything salvageable there, but they did find my passport, which is how they knew the purses were ours. (My passport, btw, has already been canceled, so recovering it was not exactly a big “yay!” moment.) (And yes, it’s very stupid to have one’s passport in their purse. I had just had to do an I-9 form at work a couple of weeks before and I had forgotten to put it back in the drawer with all of our other important ID information.)

Want to know what purses look like after they spend a month in a stagnant retention pond?

purses

This photo doesn’t even begin to do it justice. Seriously, y’all, I just… I cannot even begin to describe the smell to you. It may never leave my nose. It might be worse than the time our septic tank exploded back when we lived in the boonies. This smell is burned into my brain.

Dave had already deemed the purses as ruined and trashed them before I got home, but I don’t know, I just needed to see it for myself. So I pulled them out and took a picture. (As Dave pointed out when he found out I retrieved them from the trash, it was probably not very smart for me to be breathing in God-knows-what when I’m pregnant, which, yeah I guess he has a point.)

When I told my mom, she wanted me to save her purse so she could try to root through it the next time she’s up here. I called her back and told her that no way is that foul-smelling thing staying in my house. OMG. Nevermind that the purses are basically empty anyway. We found some nail clippers, a tube of Carmex lip balm, and my mom’s epi-pen (which was filled with nasty drainage pond water). I think that anything else the thieves didn’t take is probably still floating in that pond somewhere. The only reason my passport didn’t float away is because it was in a zippered side pocket.

So, I guess that’s the end of the story. Not exactly the satisfying, “Lock up those thugs and throw away the key!” form of justice that I’d been hoping for. Instead, it’s just two empty black purses covered in mildew and pond muck. Lovely.

a much needed day out

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This past Saturday, we did something we haven’t done in a long time: went on a fun outing. I know, it’s pathetic, but I’ve been feeling so awful lately and I just haven’t been up for it.

The story is, there’s a church near our house that we drive past every day. They have an annual Spring Fling, and we saw them setting up the rides and whatnot last week. Catie saw it too, and was all, “Oooh, we go see that???” So I looked it up and found out that it was open to the public, and better yet, the entire event was free (apparently it’s the church’s way of giving back to the community), so I said that heck yeah, we’d go.

So, on Saturday, Dave, Catie, and I trooped off to the festival and met up with our former neighbor and her daughter (who is Catie’s age) while we were there.

The girls LOVED it.

This is when I said, "everybody say, CHICKEN HEAD!"

Tip for getting genuine smiles from preschool-aged kids? Yell, “Everybody say, CHICKEN HEAD!!!” It cracked them up.

Oh, and the best part of the whole day? They had pony rides.

This was probably the high point of her entire week.

There’s probably nothing that Catie loves right now more than horses and unicorns, so the presence of actual, live ponies? Made her freaking year.

After that, Catie and her friend Morgan jumped themselves silly in the bounce houses, and when they hit the point of exhaustion that both of them were crying and throwing tantrums? We headed over to the free food area. After some hamburgers, hot dogs, and cotton candy, all was right with the world again.

So, yes, I probably over-did it, because I completely exhausted my pregnant self by being on my feet for over two hours, but it was totally worth it. We’ve been needing a Fun Day around here. We need to work on making them happen more often.

pass the kleenex

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For the last few months, I’ve had this really embarrassing issue: I cry at all of my OB appointments.

I guess it’s no big secret that I’ve been dealing with some pretty heavy-duty anxiety issues lately. My doctor’s office is aware of that too. So now, every time one of the doctors walks in and asks how I’m doing, I just lose it. And I hate, hate, HATE crying in front of people. But I can never seem to hold it together.

I think it’s the waiting room that gets to me the most. I sign in for my appointment, and then I have to sit there, surrounded by a bunch of glowing, happy pregnant women, and I feel like I’m… failing. Badly. Like I’m the worst pregnant lady who ever lived, and I don’t deserve this baby, and blah-blah-negative-thoughts-spinning-in-my-head-blah.

Logically, I know that’s bullshit. I know that I’m not the first (or even the millionth) woman to deal with anxiety during pregnancy. But logic is not my strong suit these days. I’m a walking ball of hormones and overactive tear ducts, apparently.

Sometimes I wonder what on earth my doctors have written down about me in my chart. But I think I’m probably better off not knowing.

reunited

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Dave got home yesterday. I picked him up at the airport in the afternoon, and we headed over to daycare to surprise Catie. She knew he was coming home that day, but she thought that it was in the evening, and that I was going to pick her up from daycare and take her to the airport with me.

We pulled up at daycare, and Catie saw me and was happy, but then she saw Dave, and it was the biggest “DAAADDDDYYYY!!!” reaction you’ve ever seen. Like, a full-on running tackle hug.

And of course, I tried to get a video of it with my phone, but it didn’t work, so you’ll just have to take my word for it. It was awesome. She’s been pretty much glued to his side ever since.

So, yeah. We’re all home now. It’s really nice.

She dressed herself. Clearly.
(No reason for this picture at all, it just makes me laugh.)

little ears

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It seems like lately, I’ve gotten in the habit of recounting the house break-in so many times, I don’t even think about it anymore.

**Minor inconvenience happens, something that requires a driver’s license or whatever other item that I no longer possess.**
– Sorry, my purse was stolen.
– No, I didn’t leave it somewhere. Somebody broke into my house & took it.
– Yeah, we were home. We were asleep upstairs at the time.
– I know, it IS very scary.

I’m not looking for sympathy, it’s more of an explanation, and I hate recounting it because it makes me feel like such an idiot when I have to admit that actually, I accidentally left the door unlocked, so it was more of a house walk-in than a break-in.

Yesterday, after I picked Catie up from daycare, my eye doctor’s office called to say my glasses were ready. I’m so sick of squinting at the screen all day while I’m working, and they were open until 6:00, so we hopped back in the car and headed over there.

The guy, who brought out my glasses and adjusted them for me, remembered me from when I got my first pair of glasses there. He asked if I’d lost them. And I did the whole, “No, actually, my purse was stolen and my glasses were in them at the time, so… yeah,” thing. I didn’t even think about the fact that Catie was sitting in my lap at the time that we had this conversation.

In the car afterward, we had this conversation:
Catie: Mommy, was it monsters?
Me: Was what monsters, baby?
Catie: Was it monsters who came into the house and took your purse?
Me: [having sort of an “oh shit” moment in my head] No, sweetie, there’s no such thing as monsters, remember? It was just… bad guys.
[Trying to focus on driving and not banging my head into the steering wheel. Bad guys? Really? Like that’s any better?? Good GOD, self. Way to traumatize the poor kid.]
Catie: Why were they bad?
Me: Because they wanted Mommy’s money and Mimi’s money, and that’s why they took our purses. And it’s very bad to take things that don’t belong to you, right?
Catie: [worried voice] What if the bad guys come back and they take my toys?
Me: No, sweetie, nobody’s going to take your toys. We got all new locks on the doors, remember? So your toys are totally safe now. Nobody’s going to touch them, OK?

She seemed content with that answer, but I felt horrible. I mean, I’m relieved that her main fear is that the “bad guys” would take her stuff, not that they’d do anything to harm her. But, man, I seem to constantly forget that she’s not a baby anymore and that she picks up on everything. You’d think that I would have figured that out by now.

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On the other hand, she erased last week’s sad face from her Magna Doodle and drew this in its place.

Today gets a smiley face. My cup runneth over.

So I’m guessing we’re gonna be just fine.

Baby 2.0, 30-week update

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I had back-to-back doctor’s appointments yesterday. First with my regular OB’s office, then with the special high-risk ultrasound center that I get to use because of that big ol’ Advanced Maternal Age flag on my chart.

So, first up: the obstetrician. Baby 2.0’s heartbeat is good, my weight is on track (I’m up 14 pounds at 30 weeks, no complaints there), and my stomach is measuring on target. That’s all the physical stuff.

The emotional stuff? I told my OB about all of my anxiety problems I’ve been having lately, and how it was really very sweet of them to call in xanax for me last week, and I do appreciate it (I probably enjoy the way that xanax makes me feel a little too much, considering that it’s highly addictive), but I also need to be realistic: I can’t take xanax all the time. I need to be able to drive, do my job, and take care of my kid. And I can’t do any of those things if I’m all loopy on sedatives. So I really need something that won’t turn me into a zombie, and that’ll help me keep my anxiety in check at the same time.

They gave me a prescription for Lexapro, and I took the first one last night. I feel horrible and groggy today, but that could be because I had to get up at 6 a.m. to drive my mom to the airport, and we stayed up late to watch “Dancing with the Stars.” So, I can’t blame it entirely on the meds, is what I’m saying. I’ll have to wait and see how I feel after a couple of weeks.

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After my OB visit, I went home to pick up my mom, and we went to the ultrasound center, so she could see her second grandbaby live and in person.

Baby 2.0 at 30 weeks

Baby 2.0 (who, yes, is definitely still a she) was not very agreeable about letting us get a good picture, and this was about the best one we could get. You can sort of see part of her profile and a little hand at the top. I think she was throwing an elbow to get that ultrasound wand off of her “house.”

She’s a little on the small side, measuring in the 30th percentile. But Catie was somewhere in the 10th percentile when she was born, and God knows she made up for it later, so I’m not worried. I’m honestly relieved to know that I likely won’t be giving birth to a ten-pounder. An average-sized healthy baby is ideal, as far as I’m concerned.

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My mom flew home this morning, and Catie and I are both sad about it. For the sake of logistics, I had to drop Catie off at daycare before taking my mom to the airport (the airport is about 4 miles from my office, daycare is 12 miles), so they had to say good-bye at daycare. We were afraid there would be tears, but my mom had “going-away toys” for Catie this morning. Tiny little things she got at Rite-Aid for a couple of bucks, nothing major, but enough to make it ok that Mimi was leaving. That plus a lot of kisses, and promises that Mimi would be back soon (well, in a couple of months, anyway), and Catie seemed ok when we left.

Of course, I’m fully expecting her to have a meltdown later. She’s also been crying a lot about missing Daddy lately, poor kid. The last couple of weeks have been rough on both of us.

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In related news: Dave will be back one week from today. I can’t wait.