Let's also dub this week "The Week Of Babies!" Three new little arrivals this week. Wow, has it been fun to meet and hold the little ones. But let's be honest. As excited as I am for each one of them, as I've held each one, I've really been thinking ahead to November and looking forward to holding OUR new little one. For real. I can't wait!
It's been kinda fun to have each of these babies born just as I've entered the third trimester. Just as I was beginning to look in the mirror and wonder HOW was I ever going to survive 3 more months, holding these three little ones has given me hope that there is light at the end of the tunnel. That's obvious to anyone who isn't pregnant, but sometimes, as your body's growing, you just feel like there is no way you can endure any more. Especially this fourth time around.
In celebration of each of our friends' babies, I've done some shopping this week. Ok, again, let's be honest. I have shopped for friends. But I have also simultaneously shopped for a new little Nielson girl. Back in debating if we were going to find out the gender of this baby, one of the things I thought was that maybe, just for once, it would be fun to do some shopping ahead of time and have a few new things ready for this baby. And then we found out we were having a girl. And I decided that I couldn't justify shopping, seeing as how we already have plenty of things for little girls. And then I decided new life in itself justifies shopping. This little girl deserves at least a few things of her very own! So I've also picked up just a few new little girl items.
And as I have been shopping, I've succumbed to the fact that maybe I am more girly than I like to admit. For I have discovered that it has been therapeutic. As I've been browsing clearance racks for right size/right season rock bottom sales for a new little baby girl, I've been dreaming and imagining and wondering what this little girl will be like? Will she have hair? How big will she be? Will she be a good sleeper? What color will her eyes be?
For the first time in this pregnancy, I've started thinking beyond pregnancy to baby. Whoa, here we are at third trimester, and I haven't even REALLY thought about having a baby in the house again. And yes, I'm super excited. (But yes, I am also thinking it's maybe a good thing that I haven't spent too much time thinking about it, because the thought of four kids in 6 years maybe would have scared me a bit!) But starting to dream about this baby is really what has maybe shed light on the end of this tunnel of pregnancy.
I went straight from meeting the second baby arrival of this week to the doctor's office for my 28 week appointment. You know, the one with the dreaded orange stuff. Except this time, it wasn't orange. It was clear. And tasted mostly like really sweet Sprite. It really wasn't too bad. I'm crossing my fingers and hoping it was good to me and doesn't reveal any hidden surprises (ie: gestational diabetes).
Usually, while you wait the hour after you drink the stuff to have your blood drawn, they make you watch these scary videos on preterm labor and postpartum depression. I guess since it's my fourth time around, they figure I'm an expert, and didn't make me waste the time. Instead, I spent the hour finishing a book that I was actually very much enjoying reading without feeling guilty that I wasn't doing something else.
After I donated vials of blood for the all so noble purpose of lab testing, I headed back up to the OB department for my rhogam shot. Lucky for me, I got the nurse who insisted on giving the shot in the butt. I have learned that it can be done just as easily in my arm. Even after I complained, she persisted in making me bare my booty for her. (Before Noah was born, they poked me in the arse. Afterwards, they did it in my arm. Lesson learned. When it was time with Phoebe, I graciously asked for my arm instead, and my wish was granted. No big deal.) Seriously, she tried to convince me it was because it was easier. Easier for who? When I tried to tell her my last couple had been done in my arm, she told me she could do that only if I was much bigger. I have never been known to give up easily, and I wanted to tell her that the last time I had one in my arm, the nurse commented on the size of my biceps and how it was plenty easy to give me the shot there. No lie. I told her it was from carrying around little kids all the time.
The sure sign that I am exceptionally hormonal during this pregnancy was my over reaction to the whole situation. I was irrationally angry that this nurse insisted on making me pull down my pants for her. Ya win some and ya lose some, and I guess I it was clear that I lost that one!
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