What I Wish I Could Say...

I've always loved being pregnant... until round three! This time, I’m 32 years young and clearly not exactly in my prime for carrying babies! Since 16 weeks, I’ve visited the OB on a weekly basis for 17 alpha-hydroxyprogesterone caproate injections in my hip. The painful shots and bruising has just been the beginning. When people inquire about how I feel, I typically don't share an honest response. (If I did, they may vomit in their mouth.) But, because I tend to divulge on the blog, here’s the reality of what I wish I could say….

While I feel her pushing against my lungs, intestines and bladder, I also feel so much pressure in my crotch that I think my vagina might explode. Pretty soon this little princess is going to be dangling an arm or leg out the bottom. My doctor has checked mef weekly and since 33 weeks I've been 70% effaced. To be straightforward, the doc has felt the baby since then, and I could swear that she might fall out with any forward-bending-motion of my torso. I’m in bed every night at 8:30. I can hardly stand to bend over. My hubs has helped me pull on my socks and my kids zip my boots in the morning. I’m out of breath just getting dressed, and really can’t even fathom having to exercise ever again in my life.

Those varicose veins that I’ve discussed over and over are taking over my crotch. Yep, nasty, huh? The doc refers to them as varicosities which sounds much nicer than “vulva veins”, but the bulging is painful and quite frankly, soooo ugly! (Not that a normal vagina is pretty.) There’s no solution for them, and I’ve tried everything from loose panties to Spanx. They tell me to keep my feet above my heart and rest as much as possible. Okay, yeah. Teach me how to work upside down and then continue taking care of two kids at home while my hubby stays ahead of  the accounting busy season.

And if you want real honesty about this whole thing, here it goes. At 32 weeks I started a dose of Zoloft because I cried every day, felt so stressed yet was unable to describe why I was an emotional-wreck, and I found myself yelling at the kids when they did something wrong or didn’t follow directions the first time. After a full-disclosure-break-down to my doctor, she put me on an anti-depressant to curb the feelings and assist in the fight again post-partum depression as that draws closer. I cried at the pharmacy as I picked up the prescription with my five-year-old in the cart, fearing the stigmatism of people staring at me as some crazy lady who couldn’t handle being a mom. The toughest part was coming home to tell my husband what the doctor prescribed. This was the first appointment that he was unable to attend, and until then, he didn’t even know what I’d been experiencing.

Since then, he’s been my rock. He has a relationship with my doctor that is strong and honest and she’s even encouraged him to call her with questions. We talk very openly about my feelings and the risk/safety factors of being on this drug. And while depression is nothing that I’ve experienced before, I have a huge amount of empathy for the many kids and adults affected with this disease on a daily basis. Since beginning the prescription, I’ve witnessed huge improvements: I haven’t cried since, I calmly talk to my kids when they need to be redirected, and I can open up to my husband again, which is the foundation of our relationship.

While none of this is comfortable to openly talk about, I keep telling everyone that things are good, that I feel fine, and that the baby is great. Thankfully, our baby is doing great! She has surpassed her milestones for gestation, reaching nearly 39 weeks now, and her heart rate is consistently strong. I know that she is getting stronger every day that she stays snuggled in my womb, and we feel so blessed.

With that said, we're still trying to name this little princess! Cast your vote on the right side of the blog and let us know your favorite -- or if you wish to suggest one, just leave a comment below.

Butterfly Kisses

Last year was the first experience Jarin had taking his little girl to the Junior League father-daughter dance, Butterfly Kisses. I remember him not knowing what he was about to get into taking his then-four-year-old little girl for dancing, crafts, photos, and more. But he prepped her right, surprised her with some "diamond" jewelry from Claire's, and put on his own spiffy suit to take her out for the afternoon.

This year, she went all out! She wanted her hair done, nails manicured, and was even touched with some eyeshadow and lipstick before adorning herself with a fancy dress and new bling, bling shoes. That's when she looked at me and asked if she could wear the jewelry that her daddy got her for her first father-daughter dance. Of course! I loved that she remembered exactly when and why she received that special gift from her daddy and that it was important that she wear it again this year.

Take a look at her getting ready for the event. She sure felt like a princess, and I can promise you that her daddy was thrilled to have her as his date.

As they were getting ready to leave, Cade looked at me and said, "Mom, do they ever have mother-brother dances?" Aw, how priceless that he ask! Instead, we had a special mother-son trip to Donutland for the biggest and best cinnamon roll in town.