Just Another Mama Update

I’m actually going to write a good blog post one of these days. Until then, here’s my life in a nutshell:

The nausea is getting much better thanks to Zofran, bi bim bop, and dairy queen soft serve. Not coincidentally, I’m beginning to gain weight.

I don’t want to jinx anything, but it looks like we are buying a house that is four blocks from where we live now and that is on half an acre. I’m so excited!

We love the hospital midwife that we met with this week. She is super relaxed and it sounds like we can pretty much do what we want in the hospital. The only thing I NEED to do is let them do twenty minutes of continual fetal monitoring when I first arrive at the hospital, but after that, I can labor as I like, skip the IV or hep lock, birth in the water if I choose to do so. I’m pretty excited that we have found an affordable and seemingly good birthing situation.

I may or may not have said this to Luke today: “When YOU start vomiting every day and face pushing a baby out of YOUR vagina, then you can eat fruit loops for lunch like me!”

Update

It has been over two weeks since I have posted. I’ve been busy eating, sleeping, and wallowing around. The Zofran has helped a lot, in that I am not vomiting much and I am not so ill that I feel depressed. Instead, I just have a lot of nausea and I have to eat all the time.

Really, this is good training for when I have to care for a newborn again. I’ve gotten used to a kind of freedom that I didn’t have for a long time when Luke and Henry were wee little ones. I have been able to go out at night with my friends. I have had plenty of time to exercise. I have made complex, gourmet meals. I’ve enjoyed leisurely evenings of television with Craig. And you know, that first year with an infant? From what I can remember, I will be catching sleep whenever I can, eating a lot of convenience foods, and putting up with a cluttered house. Pretty much like right now.

We are actually moving towards buying a house. We applied for pre-approval for a mortgage. We are going to start looking at houses. It is exciting, but also kind of scary.

Oh, and we are trying to figure out what to do about the birth. Luke was born in a hospital with midwives, Henry at home with a midwife. Henry’s birth was vastly better than Luke’s, partially because it was just a lot easier, but also because it was at home. But now our insurance won’t cover homebirth at all, so we are trying to figure out what to do. We’ve had a lot of free consultations with a lot of people. I’m trying to relax about it and realize that, whatever we decide, it will likely be just fine. I mean, we are going to get a baby out of it, after all.

Another Post About Barfing

So the barfing got bad. Really bad. I think I threw up five times on Monday. This is far worse than when I was pregnant with either Luke or Henry. This could mean any number of things: I’m having a girl, for instance, or I’m having twins. The first is my favorite option of the two, but both are preferable to any number of awful, awful things that serious morning sickness can indicate and that Dr. Google so cheerfully describes in detail. Or maybe I’m just getting old and I don’t do pregnancy as well as I used to—not that this was ever very well, mind you.

So yesterday I went to a local midwife/OB clinic for a first visit and got a prescription for Zofran. This is extremely expensive and my insurance will only cover 21 pills for 30 days when really, that is only enough for seven days—ten if I try to stretch out the dosing. Oh, and it causes immediate and extreme constipation. But so far, it seems to be working pretty well. I’m still nauseous now and then, but it is far more manageable. And I’m not throwing up, so that's something.

The Birds and the Bees, Part Two

I’m pregnant.

Oh boy, this is a little cosmic joke if ever there was one. You see, Craig and I are planners. We are level-headed, generally calm, and we plan our major life decisions.

In fact, just a few weeks ago I was telling my mom, among others, that while I was still slightly ambivalent about having another child, we were done. Really, I like having two boys. It is so tidy and convenient. One for each hand. Room in our car. I have been planning to get a job in a year and a half, when Henry goes off to Kindergarten, and I’ve been starting preliminary planning on that front.

About three weeks ago, I had a dream that I was pregnant. I told Craig and we laughed.

Two weeks ago, when I borrowed the sex/baby book from my friend, her daughter asked, “Do you have a baby growing in you?” I answered in the negative, and I laughed.

A week ago, at school pickup, one of the moms was talking about her third, surprise pregnancy, a girl after two boys. I told her that I had experienced so much morning sickness with my boys, it was good that I hadn’t ever been pregnant with a girl, since the old wives’ tale says that morning sickness is worse with girls. “Who knows?” she said. “We thought we were done after our two boys.” I laughed.

Now I imagine God laughing. Not in a mean way, but laughing nonetheless.

I’m thrilled with this turn of events, when I’m not vomiting. And Craig is warming to the idea. We are both a little stunned.

And yes, I know how these things work. I read the book with the boys two weeks ago, remember?

We thought we might try to keep it quiet for a while. At first, I only told a few friends, ones that I would tell if anything were to go wrong. Then I told my mom. Craig told his parents. And then, this morning, I found a Facebook message from one of my mom’s friends congratulating me on my little surprise.

After I threw up and Luke was looking very worried—have I mentioned that he is a hypochondriac and thinks he is catching anything that anyone else has?—I decided to forget the whole keeping it quiet thing and tell the kids. They are mostly excited. Luke has a few reservations.

“You will be the extra big brother, Luke!” I said, trying to get him a little more excited. “And you can help us name the baby!”

Without any hesitation, as if he had been planning it his whole life, Luke said, “If it is a girl, Rosie, and if it is a boy, Scratch.”

Rosie or Scratch, I couldn’t be happier with this unexpected miracle.