Another little something that I don't remember from the first time around...strangers are fascinated with the pregnant. Maybe it's because I was in New York last time and most people were paying attention to my stomach only long enough to decide whether or not they needed to offer up their seats on the subway. Here, random folks are constantly commenting on my "condition" and my appearance or asking about my due date or the baby's gender. Yesterday two teenage girls gasped as they walked by me and one said, "Ooh, she's pregnant." I couldn't tell if it was more like "Ooh, you smell good" or "Ooh, you stepped in something." Probably something more along the lines of "Ooh, your stomach is HUGE."

About two minutes prior, a man had pointed out that I was expecting ("Indeed.") and then asked how far along I was and whether I knew what I was having. And just before that, another stranger sitting next to me struck up a conversation about how girl babies have faster heart rates than boys and how back in her day that was how you knew what you were having.

All in all, I don't mind. I think that it's sort of sweet. And not such a bad thing to be shown some general goodwill when out and about. Especially in these last few weeks, when I vacillate wildly between feeling on one hand immense and slow and sweaty and on the other brimming with new life and miracles and secrets.

Would you think less of me if I told you that I actually wept last night when I saw that a massive blue vein has popped up all over the back of my leg? I am just vain enough to say that if this thing doesn't go away when I have the baby, I might FREAK OUT. Just a little.

peas in a pod

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happy Father's Day!

Good friends. Big laughs.

 

 

 

 

The Third Trimester, otherwise known as...

"Get up off that chair, Mommy!"

I have about seven more weeks, but it feels like this baby could come tomorrow. I have written very little here or elsewhere about these last few months which I regret, but there just seems to have been so little time. Or energy. I don't remember pregnancy being quite so draining, even though I was working a full-time job the first time around, walking my groceries and laundry around, riding the subway. Of course, I was minus one three-year-old, in better shape and as one of my mid-wives delicately pointed out at my last appointment, younger. I am tired, people.

I have a few other complaints which I'll mercifully spare you, but I am hanging in and the time is going by quickly, so I feel certain that I won't fall apart due to sciatica and heartburn. The lack of sleep might be the end of us all, though. I have gotten a little touchy lately about the whole sleep issue. People laugh as they ask if I am having to get up a lot at night to take my pea-sized (hee. pea-sized. pea. pee. get it? shut up.) bladder to the bathroom and then they laugh and remind me that I will be getting up even more once the baby arrives and I try to remember that they have no idea that we get up a lot as it is to check Olivia's blood sugar. Marc has been helping a lot lately and Olivia is sleeping well, so we are up on that score. It's when the baby comes and keeps Olivia up at night that things are really going to get schizo.

O still seems excited for the most part, though she does get tired on occasion of being asked about her new brother. This past weekend was the first time that I have seen the child actually shoot someone a dirty look in response to the inquiry. She doesn't seem terribly anxious and I am hoping the transition will be smooth for her. We have taken a step that could muddy things up, though...I'm not sure. We are going to (try to) put O in pre-school for a few hours twice a week for July and see how things go. I have to admit to feeling pessimistic about it. I just can't imagine that she is going to get comfortable with this and while I know that a lot of people would say that this is only because I won't be comfortable and that is probably part of it, but Olivia is a proud momma's girl and does not cotton to me leaving her in the living room, much less some strange place with a bunch of strange people.

Six weeks ago I was certain that this was something we both needed, but as it has gotten closer and more real with plans and visits to the school being made, I do wonder if I am ready either. Am I ready to turn her over to people who don't love her, who aren't family? Am I ready to trust someone else with her diabetes care? Am I ready for other children to possibly hurt her feelings? Am I ready to leave her to navigate her surroundings without me? Am I ready for school?

I am mentally committed to at least the summer program and I am getting all my plans and paperwork together. We'll give it a try and see how things go. She seems excited when we talk about it. Maybe she will love it, I will feel secure about it, her teachers and nurses will confidently take on the responsibility and it will be capital-S smooth. If not, she'll be a full-time big sister and we'll try again with kindergarten.

Either way, things are changing and this period of our lives is coming to an end. Very soon, there will be new people, new places and friends, a new baby. So, for now I savor these last few moments with Olivia, mornings when we wake and it is just the two of us and a whole summer day to share, evenings when we lie in her bed and talk about her favorite part of the day. And softly, I hear the clock tick, tick, tick...