38 Weeks +3: The Perfect Name

Sometimes we make things too hard on ourselves.

We won't name our child after any living relative. There are a lot of living relatives on my side of the family.

We won't give our child a name that reminds us of people we've known who we don't really like.

We don't want our child to have a trendy name.

We don't want our child to have a kind-of-boring name.

We don't want to name him something that sounds like we're trying really hard to name him something cool.

We don't want to totally ignore the times and name him something that will be made fun of forever.

There can't be rhyming.

We thought we'd name him that name that makes us both think "THAT'S IT!"

But here we are, 12 days from my due date, without that.

Right now my personal favorites have been dashed. That leaves my husband's favorite. I'm trying really hard to convince myself that I can do it, that I can come up with an endearing nickname from it, that it doesn't actually sound as bad as it does in my head. I mean, he really loves it. And I totally get the significance behind it. It's just... I don't love it like he does. That said, I think it meets all of the above criteria (less the "That's it!" factor).

Also, it has passed the toddler test. Of all of the names, First likes this one the best, too. And it's really cute when he says it. Maybe I'll practice shouting it like I would from the soccer sidelines. After all, he won't be an itty bitty baby forever.

37 Weeks: Now or Later

This baby has dropped very low. I'm definitely waddling. I've had contractions daily since I hit 36 weeks. They now come regularly, but still show all the signs of being pre-labor, lasting for two minutes or slowing down at night. Sadly, all this tells me is that I'll have the baby sometime in the next couple of weeks. You know, between now and my due date.

The toddler swings back and forth between extra-hilarious and extra-irritable. There are a LOT of extra requests for Mommy, which is such a change from his usual Dad-centric view of the world. Perhaps it's because I can't do as much as I did without a Butterball in my gut. Maybe he understands that his world is about to change. Whatever it is, nothing can change the fact that I love that little dude with unbelievable magnitude. He's going to be such a cool big brother.

Oddly, I still haven't had that legendary mom guilt about cheating him out of one-on-one time by having another baby now, rather than when he's older. Is it because we've shared a LOT of time together? (That is, nearly all of every single day of his life?) Is it because he is thriving in his two-morning-a-week preschool? Is it because I wonder why people don't feel bad for the second child, who will never get the same one-on-one attention that the first had in the earliest years?

Whatever the case... I'm just about out of time to worry about it. I've told my husband that I don't think this baby will wait for February. I've told my friends that I'm suspicious of this weekend's full moon. Time will tell. But our Go bags are packed and the baby laundry is put away.

36 Weeks: Nesting

Last night I woke up from a feeling of being punched in the cervix from above. As the day went on, I realized it was the baby dropping. There's some relief in my ribcage, but new pressure and pain down low. And so I've engaged in a mild panic.

Thankfully there aren't any signs of labor. Yet. But. My husband just brought down the stash of newborn stuff from the attic. I have clothes and covers to wash and toys and a pump to clean before this baby gets here. There's a freezer to clear out and many meals to prepare. I'm only 6 weeks into the story of our time in England at my other blog, and there are hundreds of photos of First that I mean to place in an album before Second arrives. Time is running out!

Then there's the toddler, yelling "mommy mommy mommy" every two minutes. In between that, he's likely climbing on a table, yelling "no," trying to ride the dog or running away from me. It all makes me wonder how it's going to work with two? I'm trying not to let it stress me out.

For now, though, I'm happy to have found a babysitter! My husband and I are actually going on a date, for the first time since... uh... um... August? Yeow. It will be nice to enjoy some time to ourselves while we can. There's a full moon in two weeks, and they say many women go into labor during a full moon. Might this little guy be early? Stay tuned!

33 Weeks: A Bumpdate

Less than 2 months to b-day! And this time my husband's home? What an adjustment, having someone around to ask for help when I need it. I don't have to take out the trash. We can tag-team the bedtime routine. I don't have to be the one to make up every conversation between my son's toys.

This past weekend I visited Brussels with some girlfriends. I spent three whole days away from my little guy – for the first time ever. It was really invigorating to get some good sleep, talk to adults and see some new scenery. But it was kind of a bummer when I went to him the next morning and he said, "Daddy's working?" instead of "Oh Mommy Mommy Mommy I missed you!" We seem to be back on track now, though.

I did buy a sweet, fuzzy, French lovey for #2 while I was away, as proof that I'm excited for his arrival. So I feel it's time for a formal update.

Baby's Size: Baby Center tells me he's over 4 pounds now. And he's definitely out of room in here!

Cravings: Nothing specific, really. Just the random nostalgia cravings of our pre-parenthood Omaha haunts and the accompanying beer/wine/spirits that went with them. 

Aversions: None.

Movement: This kid is training for the Olympics! He even kicked First during story time the other day. The two-year-old said, "Brother kicking!"

What I Miss: Wine. Belgian beer. Decent restaurants with take-out and delivery. Having a waist.

What I Most Look Forward To: Meeting our new little man!

31 Weeks: Oh Yeah, Childbirth!

I recently learned of this rumor that labor can be much quicker for the second child.

Um. What? Yes, please!

My memory of my first son's delivery is kind of weak. It makes me regret not blogging about the birth story, and now I understand why people do it. So, I'm going to tell you about it.

The Thursday night before he was due, I mentioned to my husband over the phone (after he asked) that I though I was having contractions, about a half hour apart, but they aren't very long or regular. I had a doctor's appointment in the morning, see. They'd tell me more then.

He was in Vegas for an intensive training program. He had been there for the past four months, and had a few weeks to go until graduation. We were led to believe that I needed to be on my way to the hospital to hop on a plane home. We were also planning to induce the following week – Thanksgiving week, when he had a break – if the baby didn't come before then.

He called me in the middle of the night to see if anything had changed. Of course, I was sleeping. So I didn't know. He found out how early he could fly home the next morning. He did not sleep. He did book a flight.

The next morning, the NP checked me. I was dilated 1cm, maybe half effaced. She swept my membranes and said, "See you next week for that induction."

My mom and I hung out until lunch time, when we left to pick up my husband for the airport. We stopped for Indian food. I was definitely contracting.

We hung out, tried to nap... around dinner time I was getting uncomfortable and we started timing the contractions. Around 9:30 (I think?) we went to the hospital. Still just 1cm. We walked the halls for a couple of hours. Just 2cm. As I was filling out my discharge papers at midnight to go home and labor more, my water broke. ("Um, either I just peed myself or my water broke," is what I said.) There was meconium in the amniotic fluid, which made it all extra gross and meant the NICU team was going to be there when the baby arrived in case he had swallowed some. Like I said, gross.

The rest is kind of a blur. There was the bathtub, pictures of the dog, and eventually a request for an epidural, which was kind of magic. I tried "sleeping." The nurses kept moving me around to keep up the baby's heart rate. Around 4:30 I woke up with an irresistible urge to push. The nurse checked me and laughed – she could feel his head! So I had to not push while the doctor was called, while the doctor went to change out of her collegiate sweatshirt and into scrubs. Three contractions later he arrived to a giant audience of the doctor, nurses, NICU team, residents, med students... perfectly healthy.

The next part is a blur, too. Something about a placenta. I remember my husband sleeping a lot. I did wake him up to check to see if the baby was still breathing. Breastfeeding wasn't really working out. I eventually got pretty tired. We went home Sunday.

I remember being achy and sore and groggy for a while. And now it's more than 2 years later.

My hope for this birth (assuming he's positioned properly and will arrive without complications) is that I go into it rested. That the water breaking part happens early in the day. That maybe this time I'll have the strength and support to tackle it without the epidural, only so that I can recover more quickly for the sake of First.

The base hospital has a new natural birthing room. Maybe this resource plus the "rumor" that second labors are faster will be what I need to do it.

29 Weeks (5 Days): What I'm Not Worried About

I'm not worried about where the baby will sleep.

I'm not worried about finding the perfect name (yet).

I'm not worried about cheating First out of brother-free time he'd otherwise have. He's so over me anyway. And do you think Second is going to be psyched to finally have Mom & Pops to himself when First goes off to college? Right.

I'm not worried about nipple confusion.

I'm not worried that Second will be less than perfect exactly who he is.

I'm not worried about being able to love Second as much as First. Of course I love First more than anything in the world and my heart overflows when I think of how amazingly awesome he is. It's just that, if there's room in my abdomen for something the size of a watermelon, there's room in my heart for more love.

29 Weeks: Slowing Down

Carrying the two-year-old is decidedly uncomfortable these days. His little knees jab my stomach where his little brother's elbows are also jabbing my stomach. Or, if I shift him back a bit to avoid this, I work out my delts in ways I've never known.

By the end of a long walk with the dog, my lower back and abdomen tell me it's time to go take a load off for a bit.

I've begun calling to First, "I'm NOT going to chase you!" every time he runs from an impending hygienic task. He does this, laughing and shouting, "Catch you! Hehehehe." before "hiding" face-down on the couch.

I even ask him to be really helpful and turn on the floor lamps in the corners that are hard to get to with my new frontal load.

Today I chose to indulge him in more than his RDA of screen time so that I could sit in a recliner and read a book. Reading a book is even difficult, in that I'm reading Anna Karenina. Its 800+ pages are kind of heavy and Second doesn't enjoy being a book stand. Plus, every now and then I have to arch back because there's a baby appendage poking my ribs.

And there are still 11 weeks to go.

Next week, when I get that text about having reached 30 weeks, I'll probably freak out. The last of the double-digits in terms of weeks to count down. The toddler is still in the crib, I still don't have a sparkle-free light fixture picked out and OMG I'm going to have another baby.

I promise a full, official Bumpdate with that hysterical post.