Settling in

It has been a couple of weeks since the arrival of the newest member of our family. Exactly two weeks today; and things are settling in nicely. The little man and I have been at home alone for two days now; and we have been doing pretty well.

On Monday he allowed me to walk on the treadmill for a whole mile! Now, before you laugh, a mile is a considerable distance given the fact that the last few weeks of pregnancy were extremely hard and most of my exercise vanished. I am slowly getting back into things; with slowly being the key word. You see, I still do not have medical clearance to do "Aerobic" workouts (which I consider to be running and biking); not to mention getting in the pool, as my lady bits still have stitches that need healing. And as an added bonus, after childbirth my bladder has been left pretty weak; which has caused a LOT of crying fits and a sense of helplessness that I do not wish upon anybody.

Yesterday morning we headed out for our first mother/son outing. Destination?? The mall. I am still in charge of Christmas shopping for the family, so with Xmas getting closer and closer in the horizon I needed to get my act together and head out to get the shopping done. I am happy to say that we did GREAT. We got the shopping done, and even had lunch (both of us) without any major meltdowns (from either of us). You might consider this not a very big deal, but let me reassure you that after feeling completely wiped last week, the mere fact that I have the energy to go somewhere is an amazing feat. 

Things are slowly starting to fall into place. At this time the mere thought of going back to work in a short 6 weeks has me in a little bit of a panic; but on the other hand, it is still 6 weeks away and I am sure that by the time the day to go back to work comes I will be more than ready (at least I was with Megan). We have already picked the daycare the little man is going to go, which so happens to be the same one that Megan attended; and now it is just a matter of time. 

This morning I was able to sneak in another workout. I walked on the mill for 1.5 miles, I even had the incline at 1%; and then I did some TRX moves. I focused mostly on my biceps and triceps and also did some squats. Managed to do 2 sets of 20 after my walk just in time for Brody's feeding. I know it is not a lot, but for my body it was plenty. It already hurts going up and down stairs; so I will be sore tomorrow for sure! I had forgotten how good the "good hurt" felt. 

Sometimes I find my patience being tested. Ok, not sometimes, all the time. Especially when it comes to body image and feeling good in my own skin. I know it took 9 months for my body to create a life; I know my body went through a lot of changes; I know it will take time for me to get back to where I once was. But a part of me wants it to happen NOW. Granted, I look much better 2 weeks post delivery this time around than I did with Megan, but I still want more. I wish I was one of those people that could immediately bounce back from pregnancy looking fabulous, but I am not. And coping with that reality is sometimes hard; more so, when you know you need to wait to go back to fully exercising at the level you once did. It is like being between a rock and a hard place. For me to get my body back I need to exercise; but if I do too much too soon, I risk injury or a set back on my recovery.

All in all, things are going well. Being a family of four really suits us. Megan loves the little guy; every morning when she wakes up she asks about him, if he is awake by the time she leaves for school, she will kiss him; and is ecstatic when I go pick her up from the after-school program with her brother in tow. Todd and I are incredibly happy.  We are so proud of our two children!

Our little man has arrived!!!

Wow, what a whirlwind week it has been. Luckily for us, even though it was a crazy week, we got to take home the best prize ever! Our little man arrived healthy on his due date!

Everything started when Todd and I went to my 1:45pm doctor's appointment on Tuesday. We left early to grab some lunch at Panera Bread before heading to the office. Little did we know that the lunch would become the last one of our lives as parents of just one child (and the last food I would have until almost 4 am the following day). We enjoyed the food, the conversation and were patiently waiting until it was time to go to the appointment. We were secretly hoping I would be dilated enough that they would send me directly to labor and delivery; but on the other hand we did a bunch of little things so that we would not be fully "prepared" so that we would jinx ourselves and prompt the admittance to the hospital (silly I know, but at that point I was willing to try ANYTHING).

We arrived at the doctor's office in time and were seen almost right away. Nurse D greeted us warmly but with her regular: You are still here????. We followed the routine: scale (too much weight gain for a mere 5 days), urine sample, blood pressure, baby's heartbeat. Everything was looking good. Time to call Dr K.

He walks in the office with a look in his eyes that Todd describes as "the kid who took the last cookie" look. We briefly talk and I am asked how ready I am to have the baby. I tell them I am ready. A discussion ensues between Dr K and Nurse D; in which he keeps telling ME it will not hurt and Nurse D interjects and says "it will hurt like crazy, don't lie to her, you are a guy, never had it done to you". And then without warning, he goes and strips my membranes. If you remember he did this at my last appointment as well, but it didn't work. This time, it felt a LOT worse, hurt like hell, and as soon as I stood up I could feel my belly tightening up. I was instructed to be on my feet and walking as much as possible; after which Dr K very cheerfully said: I'll see you tonight and we will have that baby. I did not want to get my hopes up, but secretly I wished he was right.

Todd and I decided to head out and do some grocery shopping, about 20 minutes into our drive back to the grocery store, I felt it, the first painful contraction. I actually had to breathe through it. And I thought we might be on to something then. We still went to the store and got the few essentials we needed. I got some more contractions while we shopped, painful as well, but nothing too bad that would force me to stop walking or talking. Once on the way home the contractions kept coming while we were in the car. We unloaded the groceries, put them away; and by that time the contractions had gotten into some kind of a pattern... They were coming every 5 minutes on average (with some coming as close as 3 minutes apart, or as long as 10 minutes apart; just like they did with my first child).

After an hour of pacing around my kitchen table and timing the contractions I told Todd we should probably call and head in. They were coming a lot stronger and they were consistent enough. Dr K had said, I just needed to have them coming at some sort of pattern and then they would admit me to the hospital, break my water and get the baby delivered. So when we went back to the doc's office (right at the hospital) I knew this time was it. Upon arrival they checked me and sure enough; I had progressed almost a centimeter. Down they sent me to labor and delivery. The wheels were in motion!

After arranging for Megan to be picked up from school; we got settled into our room. Immediately, they checked my blood pressure; hooked me up to the monitors; asked a few questions and got my information in the system. A few minutes later I was already getting my IV installed; as I had told them from pretty early on I would totally take the epidural.

I labored pain meds free for about 3 hours; with the last hour being the longest hour of my life. The contractions were coming on top of each other, giving me little to no rest in between and they hurt quite a bit. I remember crying, moaning and even saying to Todd and the nurse: I can't do this anymore. They kept reassuring me that I was doing great. I could see the pain in Todd's eye and I can't even begin to understand how that must feel, you know? Seeing the one person you love go through so much pain and not being able to do anything about it.

At about 8 pm the anesthesiologist came in (whom, by the way, I did NOT like at all) and I got my epidural placed. This caused my blood pressure to slightly drop, so they gave me this other drug via IV to bring it up a little bit. Once the pain meds kicked in, it was smooth sailing for a few hours. Somewhere along the way; I stalled at 6 cm for a couple of hours (same as I did with Megan); Doctor K decided to put me on Pitocin to speed up my contractions. I could not feel a thing, and that was good. I dilated a little more to a 7 and then got stuck again. Just as the nurse was getting ready to call Doctor K to see about breaking my water (he was the on call doctor); my water broke on its own. That was the weirdest feeling!

Once my water was broken I dilated pretty quickly. Within an hour I was feeling the pressure to "push", it was around 2:50 am. The nurse asked me to do a "practice" push; upon which she realized she needed to get the doctor to come quickly. At about 3:10 Doctor K came in, asked me to do another "practice" push and had the delivery team called right away. The team was in place by 3:20; and after 12 minutes of pushing (the equivalent of 7 contractions) our little man Brody Richard was born.

He weighed in at a whopping 8lbs 10 oz; and was 19.5 in long. BIG baby!

About 30 minutes after being born

We are SO in love with this little guy! I can't believe that 5 days ago he was swimming in my belly.

At 5 days old

And the clock keeps ticking

And we continue to wait.

Last thursday I had my 39 week doctor's appointment. This was one of the few appointments I had Todd come with me. I was secretly hoping that they would tell me I was 4 cm dilated and they would send me straight to the hospital to deliver this child of mine. But I think Baby K has other plans.

We arrived there and this time I was not so lucky to get the first morning appointment; that made the wait a little longer than I would like. We sat on the waiting room for about 15 minutes; not terrible, but not ideal either. When my name was called the first thing my nurse tells me is: Wow, I'm surprised you are still here, I thought you would have already gone by now... In my head the phrase: You and me sister, you and me, pops up. I put on my best smile on and say something along the lines of: I guess Baby is comfortable in the belly! (trying not to punch anyone).

Next up, the friendly scale (and yes, this is sarcasm). I look at the number and I almost faint. I can't believe how heavy I have become; I do NOT like what I see, not a single bit; but I have accepted the fact that at this point there is nothing else for me to do. The lbs are there, and until this kid decides to make an entrance they will remain in my body whether I like it or not. After that big disappointment it's time to leave the urine sample. Now, mind you, with the increasing size of the belly it has become more and more difficult to position that cup on the proper place to collect the "sample". Let's just say, a contortionist I am not, and this "Collection" has become increasingly painful.

I get to the room and we go through the routine: blood pressure, Q&A. The nurse leaves and tells me to undress from the waist down. I do as requested and proceed to sit on the examination table covered by the most flattering paper sheet.  A few moments pass and in comes the doctor with the nurse. Immediately I tell my doc that he is NOT allowed to make any more predictions on WHEN I will go into labor; he has for the past 2 weeks and I am convinced that it is because of his predictions that Baby K has decided to stay snugly inside. The nurse tells me AGAIN, how surprised she is since DR K is NEVER wrong. Well, I guess I am the exception that confirms the rule... right?

We listen to the heartbeat next. Nurse D puts the doppler on my belly and while the thing counts and displays on the screen how fast Baby K's heart is beating, Dr K guesses the correct number 144. Nurse D gets all flustered and says: He always gets it! To which I reply: Well, we better let him be right about SOMETHING, as he seems to be wrong about when I will go into labor each time he guesses. Laughter from all parties in the room erupts and my husband now understands why I like my doctor so much. 

We do the cervix check next. This is not, by any stretch, comfortable, but it is something we must endure as a part of pregnancy/labor. The good news, I have progressed; though barely. One more cm and 15% more effaced for a whopping total of 3cm and 65%. What do these numbers mean? Well, not much; but at least I know that the few painful contractions I have been having, have been doing their job. 

In the hopes that we could get this baby out and get me home in time for Thanksgiving day; Dr K offers to "Strip my membranes" (I'll let you google that one). I agree. What follows is something even more uncomfortable. It plain ol' hurts. I try to relax, as I know that if you do not tense your body it will hurt less; but I am not able to. Within a minute he is done; and he helps me sit up.

(A little background, and forgive me if I have already said this, one of the reasons why I picked Dr K as my doctor is because he is also a triathlete/runner, so he understands the passion, and we can talk about stuff other than my girly parts)

After seeing me wince and hear me say "this hurts" while he is doing the procedure; as he is helping me sit up he blurts out: Well, no pain no gain; right? After which I promptly burst out in laughter. He leaves the room to let me get dressed while he goes and researches what options I have in the case that Baby K decides to be stubborn and NOT come out on time.

Todd and I wait for maybe a minute or two and when he comes back he offers me 2 dates to be induced. Wanting to seriously avoid a c-section at all costs; I decide to pick the one that is a week after my due date rather than the one that is one day before my due date; with the hopes that my body will decide to start the process by itself without having to be pumped full of drugs other than painkillers (yes I am ALL for the epidural).

We also find out that if the "stripping of membranes" is to work; it will usually do so within 24-48 hrs. I am sad to report that it has been 48 hrs already I am still here; baby is still cooking, thanksgiving is 5 days away, and it looks like I will still have my very own personal turkey within my body. 

At least Baby K, held off on making his appearance until I went to see the Harry Potter movie; like I had asked him a long time ago. That's got to count for something, right?

I am ready

The days keeps ticking by and  I am still here; with this big belly of mine. Don't get me wrong; I am very happy that Baby K stayed in this long and has cooked for as long as he did. There was a period in this pregnancy when I was very concerned I was not going to be able to carry to term; but now that he is full term I am ready for him to come out.

I have gotten really out of shape and I can't wait to get started in some kind of a routine. Going back to not feeling like a whale anymore; to finding out how much of this insane weight gain is actually fluid retention and how much I will have to lose. I am ready to see how far from my goal I am and start working towards it.

I feel like I am in this "limbo" state, you know? Where having baby is SO close, but yet, still so far away. And I can't control when he decides to make his appearance. I am trying everything they recommend... Walking, bouncing on the exercise ball; I even ate something spicy (and I HATE spicy food). Yet, still no baby. Every time I feel a contraction I do everything I can to make it last longer with the hopes that it will turn into the "real" thing; and those suckers are uncomfortable!

I am one of those planner type people, and I would LOVE to know when baby is coming. I just feel like my entire life is on hold. Can't really go too far away from home because I might go into labor; I can't really plan any activities to do with Megan in advance because they might be canceled due to Baby's decision to come (and that would NOT be a good start to the brother-sister relationship)... It is just a big unknown and that is killing me.

It is a hard place to be, feeling so ready to take on the next phase of our lives and having to wait, wait, wait. I just hope I do not go nuts in the mean time.

I am ready.

Still pregnant...

Yes, I am still pregnant. Yes, I am almost to my due date. No, I am not having twins... People, get a clue and stop asking stupid questions! Don't you see I still have a belly? Don't you realize I am not THAT big that I am not carrying twins?

I am overly hormonal lately. I am done with being pregnant. I am uncomfortable, feel huge, have contractions every day (those contractions that will not come and stay, hence they are not called ACTIVE labor), my legs and hands are swollen, my face is starting to look extremely puffy... I could go on and on. But to sum it up... I am ready for baby to get here, and get started on the next phase of our lives.

So, without further ado, I am sending this child of mine an eviction notice from my belly.

Baby K, come out already! You are officially evicted from the comfort of your mother's insides and our presence is required out in the world ASAP. Please comply promptly.


Thank you,

Your Mother.

36 Weeks!

Today marks the end of my 36th week, and the commencement of what is the "last week before he is full term".  Yes, I am still pregnant; and I hope to be pregnant for at least 2 more weeks. While, yes, I am uncomfortable; I know that the longer he cooks the better it is for little man.

This week presented me with new challenges. I spent most of it sick with a nasty head cold turned sinus infection. It all started last Friday while I was working from home and all of the sudden around noon I started sneezing and feeling tired overall. Luckily I had managed to get in a quick walk early in the morning; so even though I was pretty wiped I was glad I got to move for a while.

On Saturday, hubby had his birthday (as well as my nephew), and we had the celebration at home. I tried as hard as I could to play hostess, but my body wanted none of it. I sort of slugged through it and after everybody left I retreated to my bed. Not only was I congested and feeling crappy overall; having this huge belly does NOT help. There are very few positions I can lay down on and after a while, it becomes even more uncomfortable. But I thought that it just felt like a regular cold; the more I rested, the quicker it would go away. Man, I was wrong!

By Sunday I was still feeling like death, so I stayed in bed one more day. I tried sleeping, sitting up, laying on my side, propping myself up with pillows; nothing seemed to work. I felt completely useless, which is never good to feel, but it just adds to the level of "helplessness" you feel this late in pregnancy.

Monday rolled around and I was still super congested, but with added pressure in my head, and absolutely no voice. Every time I sneezed I thought my head was going to explode, my ears popped each time I blew my nose, my throat hurt. It was then I decided to head to the doctor. Off I went and of course, like 9 out of 10 times they told me it was a virus... Need to let it run its course. Luckily for me, the doctor lady took pity on me and gave me a prescription for some antibiotics with instructions not to start taking it NOW; but if things did not get better, or I started having nose discharge that was anything but clear. Otherwise I was told to just take cold medicines; which is fine and dandy, but being pregnant there is a HUGE limitation to what you can and cannot take. Wouldn't you know that by the time I got home my nose discharge had turned yellow, so I went out again and got my prescription filled. 

As of today, I am feeling slightly better; still have a very congested head and by the time 6 pm rolls around I am really tired and ready for bed... This is sad to admit, but I have cried about this maybe one time (or two or three). I just want to feel better, you know? Late pregnancy is hard enough; I really do not need the added sickness.

On the good side of things, I have graduated to weekly doctor's appointments. Some of you might think that going to the doctor on a weekly basis is a hassle; and while I in part agree with that statement, I can't help but to be happy about it because it means that the end is near. Only 4 more weeks until I hit my due date; and hopefully we will get to meet the little dude soon.

Goals

The time keeps ticking and little by little we are getting closer to my due date. I am so ready for this little guy to get here! It has been a tough journey, a little tougher than I remember it being with my first child; but I am ready to welcome Baby K to the world and get working on becoming my old self again.


With that in mind I decided to put some of my bigger goals out there for the universe to know. So here it goes…

It is no secret that pregnancy adds weight to your frame. At this point I have stopped counting how many lbs I have gained (let’s just leave it at a LOT), but I am painfully aware of the toll this has taken on my body. My goal is that by the time I am one year post partum I will have lost the weight I put on during this pregnancy. The last thing I did before I got pregnant was train for ironman; and while that was hard, I did end up with an extra 10 lbs, so I am adding those lbs to the amount I want to lose. How am I going to do this? I have already enlisted the help of a nutritionist; and we are just waiting for me to give birth, come back home and “settle” some before we start the work

I am planning to keep a detailed journal, not only of the food I eat, but also of how I feel. When my first child was born I had a big case of the baby blues; and I want to keep a close look on that this time around. Postpartum depression scares me; and I want to make sure I do NOT go there.

I plan on returning to workouts as soon as I can; so next year I can have a nice triathlon season. I know it will take work to get to where I was; but I will work extra hard to get there. Part of working with the nutritionist is not just to lose the weight; but it is also related to my sports performance. I still want to be “good” at the sport; and the fact that I will have 2 kids instead of one; only means I will have to get better at being organized. I will continue to work full time; and I have already lined up daycare for Baby K; so that I can return to the gym/pool as soon as I get back to work. Why not before? Because Baby K will be too young to be left at the gym’s daycare center; so while I will be working on my bike/run fitness; my swim fitness will have to wait until I go back to work.

On the more “vain” side of things (as if losing the weight and gaining fitness were not vain enough); I am planning on a total overhaul of my “style”. What do I mean by this? I want to look at myself everyday when I go into work and feel like I look professional. Right now (and before getting pregnant) you could say I look frumpy… I have zero style, and I want to change that. I like my job a lot and I think I can have a strong career; but I need to look the part if I want to get it, don’t you think? I also want to look more like a “girl” during the weekends. I am all for comfort; but I am determined to find a happy medium. My weapon of choice??? Shopping at Athleta.com. Now that is a store that will break my bank any day.
I know I “plan” on a lot of stuff; and that the going might get rough with a newborn and all; but I am determined. And if I have proved something to myself over the years is that I can accomplish whatever I set my mind to.

Perspective

Sunday afternoon we headed to the Hospital where we will be having baby#2 for the hospital tour. Being that this hospital is not in the main downtown area of Charlotte, they hold these tours only once a month or so. This was the one time we would be able to attend without me being super uncomfortable.

What was on the agenda? Just touring the maternity ward and taking a look at the facility; getting instructions on where to come in depending on what time a day the little dude decides it is time to make an appearance; and what to expect in terms of medical care during the time we are there.

It wasn’t until we were touring the maternity suite that it hit me. Holy mother! We are really doing this in less than 2 months, and I am going to be in a whole lot of pain. I started remembering all the things that happened during Megan’s delivery. It was a long labor; 26 hours since the first contraction woke me up at 2 am. I remember being told by the hospital that I should not come in until my contractions were evenly “spaced” every 5 minutes or so; and thinking “screw this, I am in pain; I am going in NOW”. Turns out that my labor was NOT text book; my contractions never got evenly spaced out and they certainly did not last the normal one to 2 minutes. I had some suckers that lasted 6 minutes! And that was painful. So if I was to wait until I had my contractions evenly spaced, I would have had Megan at home.

I remember having back labor, using the birthing ball, being in the bathtub with the handheld shower head aimed at my lower back at all times (to relieve back labor pain); and counting down the minutes until I could get the epidural. You see, I had made up my mind from the get go, that I wanted to have the shot. Now, I can withstand a fair amount of pain; but I am in no way dumb. I wanted to enjoy my birthing experience, and being in pain I knew was not for me. So as soon as I was allowed I asked for the anesthesia. And it made a whole world of difference. My delivery was not exactly “pleasant”; but it was not horrible either. It did not make my shy away from wanting to have another child down the road.

The tour was informative, we got all our questions answered (not that we had many); and left the place with a sense of “tranquility”. Seeing the little bassinet, the identification bracelets and the little white hat that Baby will be wearing made everything that much more real. We will be a family of four; soon.

About an hour after we were done with our tour, Megan was signed up to take a siblings class; where she was to learn about babies (what they do, what they can’t do); as well as take a mini tour of the delivery suite so she would know where Mommy and Daddy would be staying once our little person comes out. She was SO excited to get to see everything, practice changing a diaper and learning how to properly hold baby.

I think one of my biggest concerns is making sure Megan does not feel left out once Baby is here. She has been an only child for a long time and I am sure that it will be a big adjustment for her to realize that even though we still love her to pieces, we will not always have time to play with her; and that taking care of baby will sometimes take precedence over anything else our family might decide to do. So we have been trying to include her in every choice we make regarding her little brother as it pertains to non medical things. She chose the first outfit we bought him; she helped picked toys, and I made sure to explain to her as many things as I could about what will go on, when she will be able to hold him, feed him and even help us change his diapers (“As long as they are not poopy ones”) Still, I am nervous about how she will take it.

The lady that taught the siblings class had a very interesting point. She said that being a mother of five, she thought that making the older sibling “pitty” the baby approach was much better that making them envy the newborn. What did she mean by this? Basically, pointing out to the older child how “boring” being a baby can be sometimes… For example: baby can only drink milk, he can’t have any of the good stuff like chocolate or ice cream, he can’t go to the movies, he can’t ride a bike, etc. And knowing Megan I think this will be a good approach to take with her. This helped ease some of my concerns.

Sometimes all it takes is a little outside perspective…

On doctor's check ups...

This past week I had my 32 week check up appointment. I usually like to make these appointments early in the morning, to minimize the wait time. My doctor is pretty good at going through the appts quickly, and while I still wait for longer than he sees me, it is not that big of a wait.

I got there nice and early. You know you have been to the office many times when the receptionist does not have to ask you your name to be able to pull your chart out. "You are here to see Doctor K, right?" To which I nod. "I'll let them know you are here".

I wait in the reception area all of 5 minutes, when my "regular" nurse calls my name. I think in this practice there are nurses assigned to each doctor, and I really like the girl that my doc has assigned. After the regular courtesies (how are you? you are looking great, not long to go, etc.) She asks me to step on the scale. Oh boy.... This is my least favorite part of the whole visit. I do NOT like the numbers I see on the scale. I am currently on my 33rd week and I have already put on 33 lbs. At this rate, if I go all the way to 40 weeks, I will probably put on close to 40 lbs.. And I am not too happy about it.

The worst part about gaining so much weight this time around is that I have really not modified my eating at all. I have not been "indulging" (like I did when I was pregnant with Megan, which led me to gain 50 lbs); I have been exercising to the best of my ability and yet I am still gaining all this weight. To make matters worse is that I now officially am the heaviest person in this household. Lovely. It is for a greater purpose I tell myself everyday; but it still does not help.

After getting off the scale I am required to leave a urine sample. As I have been doing each time I go to the doctor. Let me tell you, I have mastered the art of peeing in a cup. It is not as glamorous as it sounds (maybe it does not even sound glamorous); but heck, it's a new skill! The weirdest thing is that while I am leaving them this beautiful gift I remember a post that my coach did while she was pregnant about how the nurse told her she did not need to leave that much pee; and I can't help but laugh about it.

Next on the list, blood pressure. Mine has stayed pretty constant, not really any major shifts, the high is on the low 100's and the low is staying in the 60's. "Perfect", nurse D tells me. We go through the normal list of questions... Do I notice any excessive swelling? Am I having contractions? Any headaches? To all of those my answer is NO. The only thing I ask her about is if there is anything I can rub on my sore ribs, to make the pain go away. She tells me that while pregnant we are not allowed to rub Icy hot, and she says that she will check her list of allowed medications to see if she can find something; but if she can't she is sure Doctor K will know what to do. And I think to myself... He better know, he is a doctor!

We then proceed to hear the heartbeat. To do this they use this device called a doppler, that while I am not sure exactly how it works I believe it has something to do with sound waves and all that stuff. At first she tries to get Baby's heartbeat near my belly button, she is unsuccessful. Baby likes to hang on my right side, so when I tell her that she moves the little wand to the right side of my belly, and sure enough, there he is! His heartbeat is strong, over 150 bpms; and I LOVE hearing it.  After helping me sit back up, and yes, at this point my belly is so big, that I need help sitting up; she exits the room.

I am left to my own thoughts for about 5 minutes. Not a lot goes through my head. As usual, all the questions that I had intended to ask my doc have left my head the minute I stepped in the door; so I just sit there and wait.

Doctor K comes in, and we go through our "routine"... Shake hands, make small talk, measure my belly (which has consistently measured 1 1/2 weeks ahead), and then we are done. Here is where I ask him about my side pain. A couple of weeks ago, they had me come in and they ran a battery of tests to rule out some kind of kidney infection, liver problem and some other stuff I can't remember, due to how the pain goes all around from the front of my ribs all the way to the back. After finally agreeing with me that it is some kind of muscle pain, he prescribes me a muscle relaxant that is safe to take during pregnancy. He tells me that I will probably NOT like the side effects (it will make me really tired), but that he hopes it will help the pain go away.

Next thing I know he starts talking to me about getting the flu shot. I politely decline, saying that I have NEVER gotten one before, no one in my family does; and I am not about to get started with it now. Besides, I have read from people that got it, that the side effects can be pretty nasty, and I think I do not need to feel any worse than I already do. He goes through his list of reasons why I should get it, including the scare tactics..."You know if you contract H1N1, there is a 1 in 20 chance you could die?" And I am thinking to myself, really?? Do you have to use THAT excuse? After sensing that he would NOT let up until I agreed, I asked if I could think about it some more and let him know on my next appointment. He reluctantly agrees, and we call it a day. He leaves the room and I am free to go, with instructions to come back in 2 weeks.

The routine of it all is somewhat comforting. You know what to expect, and you are prepared for it. Even though I still have about 2 months until my due date; the countdown has started. I will go to the doc's every 2 weeks and then I will start going weekly... And then, before we know it our little guy will be here; and with him, the mysteries of being parents to 2 kids...

32 Weeks

Right now I am in the middle of my 32nd week. I still have 7 more weeks to go and to tell you the truth I am getting tired of being pregnant. No, I do not want the baby to be born NOW because that would mean him having to spend time in the n.i.c.u., and that is  scary thought; but I am certainly not having anymore fun.

My body has encountered more changes than I remember with my first pregnancy. I thought that this time around since I was fit (which I was not when I was pregnant with Megan), I would be able to keep to my exercise schedule, and keep my body in decent enough shape…. I am afraid my body had other plans.

Midway through the pregnancy the doctor discovered I had this condition called Placenta Previa, which can be explained as “the placenta (baby’s main source of food and nutrients while in utero) was covering the birth canal”. What did this mean? With the pressure the growing baby was putting on it I was more prone to bleeding and could cause some serious complications; including the need to schedule a c-section.  Due to the positioning of the placenta (won’t go into much detail) the doctor said that I had a good chance the condition would resolve itself later in pregnancy and I would be able to have a vaginal delivery. If the placenta did not move, there was a good chance I would have to be put on bed rest. After getting that prognosis and being told I could still continue to work out but at a much “easier” intensity, I decided to cut out running from the repertoire and replaced it with the elliptical at the gym.

For those of you who haven’t done the cardio machines at the gym in a long time, let me just say BO-RING. But I was determined to keep at it; I needed to keep exercising. I would hit the gym twice a week, do a session of 30 minutes on the elliptical; followed by a 30 minute session of weight training; and ending with a nice 20 minute cool down on the stationary bike.  All in all, 70 minutes of movement was not bad at all.

Some other days I would hit the pool, and those sessions would be hit or miss. Each time I felt a weird pool on my belly, I would get scared that I was causing my placenta to bleed and that took all the enjoyment out of  swimming. I was mostly doing pull sets and some easy swimming, managing to get in at least 1500 yds each session. Not going hard (because that is what made my belly “pull”) or varying your paces much makes swimming a little too boring for my taste and 1500 yds was as much as I could muster to swim. Not to mention the weird looks I kept getting at the pool when people realized how tight my suit was getting and the size of my belly.  Yes, I am super self conscious about my body image.

Other days I would just walk around the neighborhood. Put on my music, my ironman visor, grab my water bottle and just go. The neighborhood is a 1.05 mile loop; and by going past my house over and over I guaranteed myself that if I needed to pee, I would just go in and use my own toilet. Luckily, I do not think I was ever to that point where I had to pee every 20 minutes, but definitely once an hour.
Everything was going just fine, and by the time I had the doctor’s appointment where they told me my placenta had moved and there was no more bleeding risk; Megan was going back to school and I had developed a big case of carpal tunnel. At first I thought my hands hurt because I had been holding onto my weights too hard while doing bicep curls at the gym; but when my hands did not stop hurting 5 days post weight lifting session I knew something was wrong.

I had to start sleeping with wrist braces, and even then my hands hurt constantly during the day. To give you an idea; if I did not wear the braces to bed, when the time to wake up came, my hand would not even be able to form the letter C. Talk about limited range of motion. To this day, still sleeping with wrist braces, I am not able to lift a gallon of milk by the handle; or even my full cup of coffe, without pain shooting all the way from my had to my elbow. Talk about a blow to the ego. Here I am, Ironman finisher, strong woman I thought I was, not being able to lift a gallon of milk.

Other aches and pains have started to settle in as well. Both Megan and Brody (little dude to be) took a liking to the right side of my body. What does this mean? Constant pressure on my right ribs. This discomfort builds up during the day and by the time the day is over I am mostly in tears because there is no position that alleviates the pain. And I feel this limits me, both physically and mentally.  Moving hurts, sitting hurs, laying down hurts; it is constant hurt, hurt, hurt and I do not know what to do with myself. I have cried over this numerous times; I can hang tight for a couple of days but eventually it breaks me. It makes me feel frail and slightly useless. Where is all the strength I had? Where has the willpower to endure gone? These are questions I ask myself almost on a daily basis.

And then, I feel him move. And I am reminded of why I am doing this. I am growing a baby. I think back to all the amazing things we have witnessed with Megan growing up and I can’t wait until we get to witness them again with our little guy.

7 more weeks. I can do this.

I'm Back! (sort of)

A lot of water has gone under the bridge around our household; plenty of change has come and stayed. And we could not be happier. First and most important of all is the fact that the family is EXPANDING! Yes, soon we will be parents of not one, but two children. How is that for a change?!

After Ironman last year, I was extatic. The race was everything I had dreamed of. I had never in a million years thought I would be capable of pulling such an amazing feat; heck 6 years ago I was not even a regular exerciser! But after Megan was born something changed in me and the athlete was born (yes, even though I am no elite, I proudly consider myself an athlete). I wanted to be able to show her that no matter the difficulty of the task at hand; if you set your mind to it, you can accomplish anything you want. In the process I discovered myself, my true passion, and that allowed me to fiercely fight for things in other aspects of my life. And things have been changing ever since. I am now as happy as I have ever been. My family is the best, I am still in love with the sport and I am finally in a good place at work; so much so that I am not dreading having to get up and go to work every morning, I found my niche, what I am good at and I am showing people what good things I can bring to the table. Is it all peachy? Not all the time! But whose life is?

After Ironman, Todd and I sat and talked long and hard about our family. Where we were and where we wanted to be. A long time ago, we had tried having a second child, but my body did not want to cooperate, and I dug myself into this big depressing hole. Things were not working the way we wanted them, my body was refusing to do what it was supposed to do. And that is when I found Coach (who is not coaching me at the time, but with whom I can't wait to work with again) and I took my fitness to the next level. It was then we decided one child was enough. And for the longest time we stuck to it. Megan was all we could handle, and we each had some personal goals that needed to be accomplished; it was our "selfish" time. So we settled with being a family of 3. Fast forward to post Ironman. We were in a good place, mentally, physically, emotionally. We had accomplished what we had set out to do. And we were ready. Ready to take on another challenge, to give expanding our family another try. And you know what? This time it worked! The stars aligned, the planets cooperated, and my body did what it needed to do.

We are curerntly in the final stretch, and are patiently (some better than others) waiting for this little dude:

It has been a whirlwind. Lots of ups and downs. Have I enjoyed the ride so far? For the most part. There are a lot of things I thought would be different/easier with this pregnancy and I had a pretty rough wake up call when most of them did not work the way I anticipated them. But I am still here, and I am still moving forward.

Hopefully, I will be able to put the feelings into words and share them with all of you.