Friday, October 3, 2014

Dear Baby: It's 2am and I'm Hungry

This post was written on May 3rd, 2014.

I now wake up at 12 am, 2am, and 5am for potty breaks every single night. Then, my alarm goes off at 6am so that I can be ready for work. I was finally adapting to this schedule. Your dad makes fun of me because I literally roll out of bed so that I can do this.

But for the past two days I've been waking up in the middle of the night and can't fall back asleep because of starvation. Last night, I was craving more Taco Bell. I even woke up Dad to tell him. He offered to pick some up for me, but I couldn't do that to him even though I really needed Taco Bell.

Instead, I went downstairs and devoured everything I could find in the kitchen. A hardboiled egg, three tangerines, some honeydew melon, and a few rolls of Hawaiian bread did the trick.

I'm someone who requires at least nine hours of sleep to function well. I'm so thankful that this is a long weekend where I can hopefully catch up on some rest.

Faithful Bella follows me downstairs and sits with me. I have a feeling she'll be up with me for all the 2am feedings for you when you're finally here.


Dear Baby: You're Kicking My Butt

This post was written on May 2nd, 2014.

Dear Baby,

Please know that these are not complaints. I am probably the happiest pregnant lady on the planet. Anytime I experience any of these symptoms, I smile for a moment because it just means that I am finally pregnant.

I am listing these for you so that you know that your mother loved you so early on and had already dealt with a lot way before you even tore up her crotch. At this very moment I'm hoping that you are a girl, just so that you aren't completely traumatized by the thought of your mother's crotch, but that's a totally different issue.

  • I am starving all the time, but only seem to enjoy chicken in battered and fried form. Anything else is repulsive.
  • I take it back. I can eat Taco Bell chalupas and bowls of Pho every day if your Dad would let me. Your poor father sometimes spends so much time grilling meat for us and I can't even force down a bite.
  • I have to pee every two hours, minimum. Sometimes I barely make it to the bathroom and only have to pee a little bit. How is this possible, Baby? I'm scared for my third trimester.
  • I can smell everything. This is a terrible thing when a patient has an especially bad body odor and I'm trapped in a room with them for an hour with the door closed.
  • Chest acne. This is a real thing. 
  • When it gets really cold, my boobs hurt so badly that I can barely function. It was a long winter, Baby.
  • Walking around the neighborhood or up the stairs feels like a six-mile hike in the woods.
  • My permanent bedtime is 9pm. This is also due to the amount of times I have to pee in the middle of night. It's totally ruining my sleep cycle.
  • The bloat. Oh, the bloat! And the gas! At the end of the night, I look at least seven months pregnant, even though I'm barely two months. 
  • Random spouts of nausea. I'm fortunate enough to not have thrown up yet, but when I'm driving to work in the mornings I sometimes have to stuff saltine crackers down my throat from my emergency car stash. I think if I do get sick enough to throw up one day, I may not make it to a trash can or toilet. I sometimes think about what kind of conversation I would have with my boss if I threw up on myself and was late to work.
Ah, the joys of growing you in my tummy. Seriously, though. All of this is worth it if it means you get to be a part of our lives.


Dear Baby: Love at First Sight

This post was written on April 7th, 2014.

Dear Baby,

We found out about your existence on your dad's birthday just over four weeks ago. I had waited until that day to take a test just in case it would be positive because how amazing of a gift would that be? I had nothing else to give to your father on his 27th birthday. He had already bought himself an extremely expensive pair of leather shoes, which I'm sure he will be wearing to your graduation and wedding.

The pink line was so faint that I didn't even want to tell him the news. I spilled the beans anyway and waved the pee stick at him. "See, there's a line. There's definitely a line there!" I took another test the next morning. The line was significantly darker. Dad was still sleeping with Bella. I crawled back to bed and whispered to him, "Honey, you're going to be a dad!" We were overjoyed.

Our first doctor's appointment was this past Friday, April 4th. It was the absolute longest and scariest four weeks we had ever experienced. I was terrified of losing you. Every little cramp or back pain was sure to be a sign of a miscarriage. You see, my past two pregnancies never lasted long enough for us to hear a heartbeat. 

Dr. S. didn't want to do an ultrasound initially, but I begged and begged. I couldn't wait another two weeks to find out if you were okay. Sure enough, we saw you wiggling in my tummy and eventually heard your strong heartbeat. I wanted Dad to record this special moment, but he totally screwed up and recorded the floor instead. I hope he gets his act together before you start walking.

I, of course, was bawling during the entire ultrasound. The kind lady printed out some pictures of you, which I carried around in my purse for days. We shared an elevator with a random man while leaving the office. If your dad hadn't been there I probably would have blurted out, "Hey! Do you want to see a picture of my baby?!"

I can't even describe how happy I am to know that you are healthy and that we will finally get to meet you on November 16th (P.S. November 16th is a Sunday. We would appreciate it if you arrived mid-morning the day before so that it's convenient for everyone. Dad thinks that babies should always arrive on Saturdays).

I am still so incredibly petrified of losing you, but Dr. S. is confident that everything will be just fine. He said that most women miscarry before they see the heartbeat and those who do see a heartbeat are 95% likely to carry to full-term. 95% is a great number, Baby. So great that we decided to tell everyone in the family that very day. 

You are already so loved. I know you are going to be incredibly spoiled, as you should be.