And all is quiet on the (mid)western frontier...

We've had an interesting couple of days. I started having contractions Friday - they never materialized into much of anything, never got closer than 8 mins apart, and stopped overnight. Yesterday, I woke up with contractions 4 minutes apart, that within an hour were 3 minutes apart, and stayed strong and consistent most of the day. They got to be around 90 seconds long, and I thought we were headed somewhere.

Alas, no. Slowed down again, and here we are. 10 days from my due date, and I've no idea what to expect. Things were radically different with Josh because my water broke and I was subsequently induced - there's no stopping Pitocin contractions, and so he was born 4-1/2 hours after the IV went in. Last year's induction was with Cytotec - even more intense than the Pit, and nothing remotely natural about it.

I feel sort of like a first-timer, despite having already given birth twice. I don't know what my body does naturally. I had hoped I would be more of a Speedster-type laborer. I have to admit, I sort of envy my friend Megan's super-powered 5-hour intense rocket ride with Ava.

I'm starting to suspect, however, that I might just be a Putterer. So, I'm settling in for a long-ish, unpredictable trip...an interesting adventure for a super-planner.

What's in a name?

I find myself completely confounded at the prospect of naming this little one. It's important to me that not only does it sound good on the surface, but that it has a really good meaning. Shakespeare said, "That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet." But is that true?

A few that I've liked fell off the list quickly when I found out they meant things like bitter or tiresome. Seriously...who in good conscience could give their daughter a name that means those things? I happen to believe that the name bears real significance - that it's one of the first real identifying characteristics we place on our children, and that the name we speak over them has life in it. And so I'm stuck.

I am 40,000 names deep into my 75,000 baby names book. I have a long list of maybes, but none that really sing to me yet. I have 11 weeks to go - let's pray that changes soon!

Still pregnant after all these years...

We're getting ready to go on a camping trip this morning. I was pregnant when we went camping last year too. Except for a few months in the fall, I've been pregnant for more than a year now. My poor husband - I swear...14 months of hormones can't be fun. It's hard to be the woman full of raging hormones, let alone the person living with her. And we have severals months to go. And potentially more children after this.

I actually like being pregnant - I've enjoyed it every time. It's one of the few times I feel really good about my body. The pregnancy gives it a purpose, and minimizes all the cosmetic flaws. I really truly like this time, this process, this place. But even still, I don't know if I can handle being pregnant indefinitely. I think we all need a break from pregnant, unfiltered Sarah. As Mr. T would say, "I pity the fool."

But how, oh how, do we survive the hormones until then? Nate is a pretty good sport, but man, have I been a challenge. I just had about a week where pretty much every person I talked to pissed me off. Deeply pissed me off. Completely, totally pissed me off in every way imaginable. But by about the 10th person I realized it probably wasn't them - it was me. It's kind of amazing - like you're inside a robot looking out, going "Shut your mouth, you're such a bitch!" and somehow the mouth continues to have verbal diarrhea. So if you're in my path, I apologize. Pregnant Sarah is on the loose.

Thankfully, we have just a few months left. And I've actually gotten to a quite optimistic place, where I'm actually expecting there to be a baby at the end. Somehow, somewhere, deep inside me, last time I think I knew it wasn't going to end that way. I can't explain it, but I hadn't prepared in any way. This time though, I'm expecting a living, breathing baby that I can take home with me...how crazy is that?

On the edge...

Well, we're coming up to the point of viability. I'm 23 weeks now...I thought it would offer some reassurance, and on some levels, it has. I have just felt a real shift over the last two weeks - I've come a long way since my total freakout two weeks ago.

It helps that this baby moves a LOT now. I haven't had more than a couple of hours of not noticing her movements. That offers more reassurance than anything. If I'm being honest, even in those moments I sometimes go "Is she moving too much? Is the cord strangling her too?"

It's impossible, I think, not to let our past define us. I am who I am because of the collective experiences I've had. The key for me has been not letting my past CONTROL me. I feel like I'm finally doing that well - I'm confident in who I am, and for the first time in almost a year, I'm feeling confident about the future.

I finally accepted that I was pregnant, and going to STAY pregnant. Last week, I actually took my maternity clothes out of the Rubbermaid bin I've been using and hung them in the closet. Now that's some serious optimism.

Oops, I did it again.

For the second time this month, I freaked out that something was wrong with the baby. I have been feeling pretty consistent movement for a couple of weeks now. From last night until this afternoon, I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. On top of this, I had some weird abdominal cramping last night that lasted for a few hours. So I completely, totally panicked. Called the doctor's office in tears, called Nate in tears, prepared for the worst.

And ultimately, everything was fine. Baby is totally fine, and the cramping was probably related to my intestines. So bottom line - baby fine, I have gas. GAS, people.

I know that a lot of people go through this experience and ultimately do not believe in God. That's not me - I came out of the experience dazed, confused, and believing that somehow, somewhere in there, God is still completely good. And I believe His hand is on this pregnancy. But I have a hard time being convinced that He & I have the same end goal. That it will turn out the way I want it to. And so it seems all too easy for me to fall into fear and reliving my last pregnancy, constantly assessing whether or not this baby is still alive.

Will I ever feel safe? Will I ever feel like everything actually might turn out okay this time? Or am I going to spend this entire pregnancy waiting for the other shoe to drop?

10 things I didn't tell you about last week

I haven't blogged in a week - I'm so lame. And yet, I have nothing to say. We've been caught up in the mundane over here...was there anything exciting? Here's a short list of everything that I didn't blog about last week:

1. I didn't do my taxes until the day before they were due. I haven't procrastinated that long since I was in college I think.
   
2. We went to Greenfield Village with Adam & Daedra. I didn't take my camera, and therefore have no photographic evidence of this. Just trust me.
3. At GV, I noticed Josh's eye was bright red and he had green runnies. That same day, Josh's friend Evelyn from swimming also got pink eye and green snot. We spent the rest of the week hiding from our friends & family so we didn't give them green runnies and red eyes.
4. Josh thinks his eye was pink because it shrunk. I can't explain that - sometimes it's easier to accept their weird explanations than try to understand them.
5. We had a sleepover with Kylinn. They slept a little, played a lot, and spent almost the entire time in costume.
6. My mother bought an obscene amount of baby girl clothes.
7. Josh rode a bike with training wheels for the first time. Your bike, Logan - while you weren't home. Sorry dude but we liked it.
8. I scooped dog poop for like 2 hours. Poop and a pregnant nose don't combine well.
9. I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to name this child. I'm tired of all the names from my list from the previous 2 pregnancies, and my sister or Nate veto everything new. Apparently I only like fat girl and old lady names.
   
10. I don't really have anything for #10. I just thought that a list of 10 things made more sense than 9.
    

So there's my list. As with David Letterman, #4 turned out to be the most interesting thing and the last one was lame filler. Sorry to build up your hopes and let you down.

It's a...

GIRL!

Ultrasound today

I've been surprisingly chilled up until this morning and now I'm starting to freak. Not a huge amount, just a little...

This is the first time I truly could not care less as to gender - I would love a girl, but my little friend here desperately wants a brother to sword fight him. He actually specifically told me that he ONLY wants a brother because, "Mom, girls are just not cool." Do 3-year olds really talk like that?

9 months ago, I went into my ultrasound with a sense of dread, completely convinced that something was wrong. And it was - she had died. I knew that somehow, felt it.

I'm not in that place at all this time. I'm just unsettled. So pray if you think of it, and I'll keep you posted.

What's new with you?

How are you guys? It's been a crazy rough weekend here. First, it freaking snowed. It's supposed to be going out like a lamb, right? So what's this all about? I'm beyond annoyed.

Sidebar: I desperately need to stop saying "freaking" - granted, once upon a time it was a much-needed substitute for the actual F word, but when your 3-year old tells you to "Put the freaking camera down," it's got to go.

In other news, I had such a crazy panicked over-the-top total freak-out about not feeling the baby move that Nate cut his business trip short and drove home mid-Friday. Bottom line - me crazy, baby still moving, reaction overly dramatic as usual. The hormones don't help.

Since several people have asked, my ultrasound is scheduled for April 15th. We're definitely NOT taking Josh this time - the most stressful part for us last year was hearing that the baby was dead and not being able to react because Josh was sitting there with us totally confused. Ultimately, he turned out to be young enough that he didn't even really get that I was pregnant - he never asked about the baby and we never went any further with him about it. So this time I'm feeling a lot of apprehension - I'm not thinking about gender at all, just thinking "please have a heartbeat and all your parts." That's the last I'm going to say about it until it's over.

And finally, we're ALL sick here. Josh and Nate seem to be on the mend...I, on the other hand, am not having a ton of fun. It takes me like 10 minutes to recover from walking upstairs, and I seem to be having a serious energy crisis (Josh on the other hand seems to have increased his energy level somehow.) I can take almost nothing, and they can't do an xray to positively confirm that I have pneumonia. All because I was afraid to take a little Robotussin...yikes. So now I'm way over-drugged, stressed about taking meds while pregnant, and breathing through half of my left nostril. Fun times over here at the Ross house. So how are you?


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And one side note - thank you to Nicol for her post last year about Shower Soothers. I used them this morning and they're fantastic - I could breathe out of my entire nose and coughed all sorts of cool stuff up.

Drumroll please...

I'm 16 weeks pregnant. I haven't really talked about that. If you've seen me in person, you probably know by now - or you think I've been hitting the Twinkies way too hard. If you haven't seen me, I haven't broadcasted. At Easter, my uncle really challenged me - said "Why would you keep it a secret? You need to tell us right away!" I really struggled for a response...I couldn't come up with much better than a stuttering, "but last time..."

Last week the owners of Josh's swim school also announced that they were pregnant. My first response was totally from the gut - a panicked "You can't tell people yet!" despite the fact that they're 15 weeks pregnant and pretty much everyone thinks it's safe at that point.

Everyone except me. I'm struggling along here with no safety net - no sense of when it will definitely be okay. I have even felt the baby moving for a week now and it doesn't offer much relief - instead I'm focused on the times when I don't feel the baby move. I hold my breath every month at the doctor when they try to find the heartbeat, and I scheduled my ultrasound for the absolute latest possible day because it scares the absolute crap out of me.

It's kind of ridiculous, understandable I know, and more than a little bit sad. I read a book recently where they talked about a loss of innocence that occurs after your baby dies. I really miss that innocence - feeling like everything is okay, and your baby will be fine because the chances are so slim of any other outcome...until I was in the 0.125%. And then the statistics - not so helpful. All of the sudded 1/8 of a percentage point is a huge gaping hole with the potential to totally gut you.

So for now, I'm better than I was last month, and hopefully that trend will continue. I'm actually finding other moms in the dead baby club quite helpful...I sit on Google Reader in the morning and plod through. I find it cathartic to hear that others are emotional, pissed off, angry, happy, healing, bitter, etc...it somehow validates the roller coaster of emotions I'm feeling.

So there you go - I guess I'm officially out of the closet.