Mrs. Jekyll and Hyde

Being in my last few weeks of pregnancy, oft-times people ask me how I'm doing. I'm not quite sure how to answer. Since this is the last time I will ever be pregnant, I know I should be cherishing this last month of pregnancy, holding onto every sweet moment that I have with this person inside me. Will someone please tell me how that is possible?

How I can love every moment, when on any given night you can find me excruciatingly uncomfortable? No amount of pillows, or tossings will result in a comfortable enough position to sleep; my arms and legs go numb because circulation suffers when I lay down; when baby decides to use the mattress (and consequently ME) as a punching bag; when FINALLY at 4 a.m. my body gives up the fight and surrenders to sleep, only to be woken 30 minutes later because oh, bladder is full! So I'm up. Bladder empty, body pillow strategically positioned between my legs yet under my belly, I then attempt to hoist every limb into a semi-satisfying position to pick up where I left off with my beloved REMs, only to be choked by yesterday's food coming up my esophagus. Luckily I keep my Tums on my bedside table, but just try chewing those in the mid-night. Mouthful of chalky nastiness. Realizing how parched I am for the fifth time tonight I reach for my BPA-free water bottle. (Luckily I keep that at my bedside table as well.) Chalk washed away, thirst at bay, bladder eased, body in position, baby holding still for the moment and most likely enjoying an envious slumber, I begin to focus on steady, slow breaths and concentrate on clearing my mind so I can once again find rest. Eventually it is found. But only for what seems like minutes. Then the alarm goes off and my day begins.

Did I mention my showers have to be approximately 2 minutes long since standing for me equates to searing pain down my right leg without my support hose? Yep, I said it. Support hose. I'm 33 and my life depends on them. In fact it is pure, painful torture until I can pull those on every morning. Have you ever seen one? Do you know how difficult they are to put on? Try having a watermelon around your belly and maneuvering the tight nylon onto your toe, heel, ankle, leg and all the way up to the upper thigh. The hardest part is simply reaching my toe. Herculean task. Having daily practice during the past 4 pregnancies, I'm ready to enter the Support Hose Olympics. It really should be an event.

With each pregnancy, I have had differing, lovely challenges to face. One time it was a humongous, yes humongous, ugly, purple blood-filled growth on my neck. Couldn't hide it and nope, couldn't do surgery on it until after the pregnancy. With this pregnancy it is a fibroid tumor the size of a baseball that only resulted and was fed by the blessed pregnancy hormone that now pumps throughout my body. (We are crossing our fingers that it will shrink after the birth. A hysterectomy isn't something I'd like to experience at my age either.) Oh the woes of pregnancy! And I didn't even begin to mention the weight gain, mood swings, stretch marks, dry & itchy skin, water retention, bloating and yes, flatulence, loose joints, frequent urination, contractions, nausea and oh c'mon, the list could go on!

I admit, sometimes I sit, scratch my head and ask myself why we, as women, sign up for this, but more pointedly, why have I so willingly signed up for the fifth time?



Flip-Side

Since this is the last month I will ever be pregnant, I am filled with a twinge of sadness. Mind you, my pregnancies have never been perfect, but the outcomes are. With each pregnancy I am filled with wonder and awe at the miracle of life; how my body is able to create another perfectly beautiful human being and what a gift that is.

When I feel the stirrings and movements inside me is when I feel the most love for this child I haven't even met. Or during the many, many daily episodes of hiccups he gets. Still more love when my 5-year old randomly and unprovoked, lays on my enlarged belly, only to giggle when baby brother gently kicks his face--then to have him only a few days later and after obvious thought, declare that when baby is born he is "going to be SUCH a good big brother to him." No doubt he will be. This little caboose makes my love for all my other children grow exponentially -- when they come and hug my belly, talk to him, come up with random names for him (George, Klaka or Jennifer just to mention a few), but my love is unmatched when I hear their sweet voices offer an unprompted prayer to Heavenly Father for him, praying that "he won't die", for example. I realize then that they are just as excited as I am to meet our new family member.

Each passing doctor's appointment only adds to my anticipation when I hear a heartbeat and feel like yes, this is real and yes, this is happening! Ultrasounds are wonders. They have come a long way even since I had my first child 10 years ago. My first ultrasound at eight weeks was an unrecognizable blob and, according to my children, looked like a small ear. So I'm growing an ear for 40 weeks? Great, real exciting Mom. Flash-forward a few weeks when I got a close up 4D shot of my then 30-week old baby en-utero. Add another dose of overflowing love every time I look at that picture because I realize how much his already-fully-formed features resemble my other children and how much he truly belongs in this family. He surely knew that before I even did and influenced me (through his very insistent spirit) to bring him here to us right away. I'm glad I listened.

I already want to comfort him when I drop a pot maybe a bit too loudly or pop my hip bone just a bit too close to his face, both causing him to jump at the sound. Relief that he most definitely has hearing, but sadness that I can't quite yet soothe his fears.

Each birth experience is magical and takes me closer to the veil between this life and the next. It is probably why, even though at times deliveries are tough, I would relive them over and over. There really are no words to explain what happens inside me, inside Todd, as they place our child, seconds old, on my chest for the very first time, as the baby instinctively turns toward my already-familiar voice. I get to say hello, give a first kiss and begin this journey through life together as his mother.

Though many times I have felt unworthy to be such, I am ever-grateful to be called Mom. Anyone who has children would be crazy to say that there are no miracles that happen today. I look at four of them every day of my life and am holding another, soon to join us, right now. How lucky I am. Blessed from a great God who somehow thinks I can do this overwhelmingly difficult yet equally beautiful job of motherhood.


So am I Jekyll or Hyde? Well, quite truthfully, I am both. Just call me flighty, inconsistent, unpredictable, emotional. After all, I am pregnant.

Easter 2010

We are a little late posting these pictures from Easter. I have been working with a new photo program and Mel is having a hard time finding the pictures. So hopefully I can get it organized so she can update more often. We had a great Easter, I think it is even better when it coincides with Conference.

My Baby's Birthday

Although he won't be my baby for much longer, for right now he is still my baby and today he turns 3! I can't begin to explain how much love he has brought into our family. It seems like everyone melts when they are around him--call it a gift from above. He is full of smiles, giggles, and of course, teasings. He has always been very sweet and cuddly and I hope that will never change, no, not even when he is 8, 18 or 42! His passion? Well, right now all he wants to do is go golfing. Not sure where that came from, but Todd hopes to indulge him a bit in that as soon as the weather decides to cooperate. Happy Birthday little Buddy! We love you to pieces!

One reason NOT to play basketball

March Madness is behind us, and Todd has been able to show his awesome b-ball talent through church ball and a little pick-up game at work, but we are still suffering from the latter here. By "we" I mean Todd, because of this

and ME because he can no longer drive, get around as easily, and oh, did I mention we were supposed to be putting in a fence the very weekend he sprained his poor ankle? (Still trying to keep bitterness at bay.) I keep telling him there are easier ways to get out of things than to hobble around in a boot for a month! Luckily he didn't need surgery, though it was a very close call. His leg continues to look worse everyday, but his mobility improves. Poor Todd. To his credit, he is still trying to help out a lot at home--he even did the dishes for me last night! Thanks to Curtis for driving him everyday to work. Don't think I could keep that bitterness at bay if I had to drive him to SLC everyday.