E became one month old on March 27th. Continue reading
She’s now on the outside 🙂 Continue reading
I’m 39 weeks pregnant today. I don’t expect to be writing about this again after this week, both for obvious reasons (i.e. the end is near) and because I too am thoroughly sick of it. Maybe more childbirth-y things, or “what is my mother-in-law doing here” things that are related but not specifically pregnancy things. If I stop and think about it, there’s quite a lot of wtf sort of things in the near future, or so it seems. Maybe that’s the RAGE speaking, though.
Shortly after giving birth to my son, I remember thinking how I would better appreciate pregnancy if I went through it again. That if seemed a lot bigger at that point, so I told myself I would worry less and enjoy it more. Announce the whole endeavor on Facebook. Take bump pictures, though probably not for posting on Facebook. Savor all the little kicks. Try to appreciate the complicated feat my body was undertaking in growing a baby inside me.
This isn’t happening, except for maybe the kicks part. Even then, it’s less savoring and more confirming she’s still alive because it turns out I haven’t been able to turn off the worrying part really. Mostly, though, I’m over this feeling of having had my body taken over. I know it will be no picnic when she’s on the outside, but I want my brain, body, self back please.
Usual disclaimer about being grateful, I know not everyone’s this lucky and I feel bad, I’m very glad I avoided the fertility treatments a second time, etc.
Currently, I feel a near constant PMS-like irritation at just about everyone and everything. I know, intellectually, that a lot of my frustration is at trivial things but trivializing the frustration itself just makes me angrier. Random parts of my body hurt no matter what position I’m in – my back, my butt, my legs, my ribs, my hips. I get heartburn, especially if whatever I’ve consumed has onions, which turn out to be in far more dishes than you might expect, or if I have some combination of chocolate and coffee, the two greatest things in this world. I’m tired all the time, exacerbated greatly by the fact I’m having trouble sleeping. I need to pee all the time and, in a FUN new development, I appear to have developed pregnancy hemorrhoids and descended to a whole new level of discomfort as a result. Also, my appetite generally is kind of shot.
On the baby front… well, she’s doing well. She’s not just caught up now, she’s measuring at least a week ahead on all the growth charts and kicking away happily. I know I’m complaining a lot now, but I am looking forward to meeting her.
On a more medical front, my sense of being fed up is apparently mitigating the stress of prenatal appointments because my blood pressure is actually doing well lately. I get the midwife equivalent of being patted on the head for not putting on too much weight and even losing some between my last two appointments, which should feel gratifying but actually just feels irritating because OF COURSE no one gains weight in a linear fashion and racial differences and what is this arbitrary 10 kilogram limit that they try to enforce anyway? I keep getting protein in my pee, but not enough to set off any pre-eclampsia alerts and also because, as I said above, the blood pressure isn’t doing anything exciting and body part swelling must be one of the few things I haven’t checked off on the symptom list. Instead, I keep getting various vague suggestions as to how to deal with/explain this – drink more water, have less salt, perhaps I have a cold…
Being 39 weeks, everyone is now also on high alert for the baby’s exit. If she is still on the inside at my next prenatal appointment, I believe they’re going to want me to schedule an induction. I was going to attempt to explain that one in a paragraph but really, it warrants a whole post and yes, I’m angry about that too.
So, in conclusion, I’m 39 weeks pregnant and pissed off.
This is the business end of things, I suppose. Continue reading
Getting 2018 started… Continue reading
Mr K is two and I’m not quite sure how it is we’re only here but here already.
Mr K. loves to run and he loves to get into things, especially the fridge. He’s noisy and energetic and eats everything well except vegetables. He speaks much more English than Japanese now, though still lots of single words and stock phrases (cars, Mama, Dada, juuuuuice, more, OH NO, how are you). He understands both languages to some degreee and we all keep figuring out how to understand him.
He loves Thomas the Tank engine, but all trains really, cars, dogs, fish and flowers and “The Twirlywoos” are probably his favourite TV show, for now. He sings the Japanese version of “Twinkle, Twinkle” incessantly and he adores going outside, picking things up, dragging his umbrella around whatever the weather, and will go up and down the slide over and over again. His favourite toy depends on what day it is but he sleeps with his stuffed pig, Piggy, every night, he lugs his rubber ducks wherever he can, his car collection and battery-run Percy train provide no end of amusement and his ride-on Thomas is in no danger of losing his interest any time soon.
We celebrated yesterday with presents, balloons and cake. He likes his new toys but the latter two were the big hits. He also got a typhoon to mark the occasion!
Happy birthday, Mr K. “Proud of you” doesn’t quite cover it.