47 Days to Delivery

God help me, I'm not sure I'll make it. My navel is already protruding, I am HUGE (I've already gained about 30 lbs, and if I'm careful to only gain a pound a week for the next 3 weeks, and then the 1 1/2 lbs - 2 lbs per week the last 4 weeks, I can expect to have gained a total of 36-38 lbs. AAAAHHHHH!!!!!! No matter how hard I try (which, admittedly, isn't very hard. Pregnancy is my excuse to not deny myself anything I want to eat), I simply cannot stay within that recommended 25 lbs - 35 lbs range! It is so frustrating.

I'm concerned I may outgrow some of my maternity tops. My belly is already gigantic, and it keeps growing. Every time I go into the doctor and he measures the height of my fundus, I always measure one week bigger than where I am gestationally. Some of my blouses are looking a bit short. There is no greater maternity fashion faux pas than having the panels of your maternity bottoms show. Except maybe having your belly peek out from underneath the shirt. God forbid!

I am carrying a violent fetus. He kicks me mercilessly in the ribs, inside the curve of my hip bones, and somewhere near the vicinity of other vital organs such as the kidneys & liver. Watching my belly move is like that scene from Aliens. At any moment you expect my belly to spontaneously rip open, and some sinister, hideous creature to emerge. Definitely no time for an epidural! LOL

I honestly do not remember pregnancy being this miserable. I know I was pretty uncomfortable for my other two pregnancies, but I do not recall this level of sheer malaise. I have a theory regarding this: I've heard it said you forget the pain of labor. HA! NO, you DON'T! It just becomes completely worth it when, for the first time, you finally get to hold that precious little life you've been carrying inside you in your arms. The pain isn't forgotten, it just becomes unimportant.

Now, pregnancy woes, you forget! If anyone remembered what being pregnant was really like, NO ONE would do it to themselves more than once! I mean, seriously...who among us woke up one day thinking, 'I do believe I would like to vomit at least once a day for the next 3 months, and while I'm doing that, I may as well be so exhausted that I literally fall asleep sitting up at my desk, or standing...in the shower! My breasts really ought to hurt so badly that I long for a mastectomy, but so unusually large and firm that my husband can't resist staring and trying to cop a feel. Maybe I could have mild to moderate acne, as well. Just a thought. After that 3 months is up, I'm thinking it would be awesome to start gaining weight (in another 3 month installment). A LOT of it! I should have disgusting cravings like sardine and peanut butter sandwiches, and I should crave all of the fattiest foods! Yeah, in fact, going shopping for circus tents which they call shirts and parachutes they call dresses sounds like a gas! Speaking of gas, I think I'll take up farting for the next 6 months! Of course I won't be able to poop, but I'll be able to outfart my husband in the middle of the night when he thinks I'm asleep & it's okay to let one rip. Now, after that 3 month installment, the fun really begins...I'm going to wake up 5-6 times a night to pee! Oh, and I'm going to drink lots of water to (hopefully) help with the wicked constipation I've got going on because of the horse pill vitamins & iron tablets I have to take, so I will be the office restroom's most frequent visitor. To add to this crap-tastic experience, every time I cough, sneeze, or have a good laugh, I should pee involuntarily. Sex should be inconvenient to maneuver, and enjoyable sex nearly impossible to achieve. I want to feel fat and embarrassed by the size of my...everything. I also need to be attacked from the inside by my expected offspring. My ribs should be a jungle gym, my bladder a trampoline, my kidneys a punching bag. Sign. Me. Up. THIS IS GOING TO ROCK!!!!!'

Yeah...I know none of that was on my mind when I thought of having a baby. I thought of cute little baby toes and cuddling, and first smiles and of all the wonderful moments that come with Motherhood. But I never thought of hemorrhoids, or mood swings that were better than any Disneyland ride! I never thought of those "painless" (HA!) Braxton Hicks contractions that would send me to the ER countless times thinking I was miscarrying or in preterm labor...or of that first incredible ultrasound when, for the first time, I would see my child's heart beating, reinforcing my belief that life begins in the womb. All joking and complaining aside, I never thought of the overwhelming love I would feel from the moment I saw the plus sign on the home pregnancy test, never thought of the unbridled joy & excitement at feeling my baby's first little kicks and flutters. Pregnancy is a long and arduous journey, but the end result is so worth the discomfort.

"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb." Psalm 139:19 (NIV)

Temporary Home

I'm listening to the song "Temporary Home" by Carrie Underwood right now. It's a very poignant song, beautifully written, and very spiritual. It couldn't be more appropriate for what my extended family and I are going through right now. My Uncle has recently been sent home from the hospital and assigned to hospice care. It's been a long road that has brought us to a (seemingly) large precipice.

Last year, doctors discovered a tumor and he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Surgery was performed to remove the tumor, and chemotherapy was prescribed even though the doctors were fairly certain they had removed all of the malignant tissues. After several months of treatment, He was pronounced cancer free. Around Christmas (or shortly thereafter) he began to have some of the same symptoms again, and was becoming very dehydrated. Eventually he was hospitalized again, and they discovered the cancer was back. The doctors believed that another round of chemo would make him sicker and more miserable than he already was, and only had about a 15% chance of working if he did decide to go that route. He decided to forgo the treatment, and was sent home and assigned to hospice care. It's a difficult thing to accept.

He and my Dad have been very close for as long as I can remember. He's always been a safe haven for me, and I know, for many of my cousins, aunts, and uncles. I've literally never known life without him. He's changed my diapers, heard some of my first words, and actively listened to my childhood chatter as though it were vitally important. In my teen years, he was one of the few adults I trusted enough to confide in. I knew his love was a constant, I knew his arms were always open for me to run into anytime I needed. I knew he was a person who prayed for me daily, and I knew that no matter how mad he was at me from time to time, his love overshadowed whatever anger he had toward me. Now, as an adult, he has listened patiently to me talk about love, marriage, conflicts with my parents (we all have them, people!), discipline of children, conflicts with my husband (why, why, why, oh why is my family always on my husband's side? Could it be I'm that unreasonable? No...that can't be it! ), work, money, politics, and even my relationship with God. I'm losing one of my best friends. Truly. He's too young to be dying, but that is exactly what is happening.

I feel cheated, because I can't be there in his final days. If he isn't suffering (which he tells me he isn't), I hope he's able to hold on long enough to meet Andrew (our baby due next month), and hold him. It would mean so much. He's met and held and played with my other two boys. He so enjoyed them and the little mini vacation he had when we flew him out here, and he was a wonderful house guest. I'm so glad we were able to get him out here 3 years ago (it's been that long) when he was healthy and able to get around. We had so much fun...and he wore me out! A couple of days before he left, I took him to Waikiki, and we walked all over hell and creation. I had a charlie horse in the back of my leg the next day, and the old coot didn't complain of so much as a sore back! I'm glad I could create those memories so I could remember him the way he'd want to be remembered: happy, fun, active, passionately devoted to family, and full of life.

Saying goodbye (really, "see you later" since I know where he's going, and I strive every day to be deserving of going to the same place when my time comes) to him is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. Getting sober was easier (staying sober, too!), because I know that if I work a program of honesty, continue to keep my side of the street clean, continue to seek God's face, & work with others, God will keep me sober. I can seek God's face all I want for my Uncle's healing (and I do believe in Divine Healing), but if it's his time to go, there is nothing I can do to change God's mind. Please pray for my family, my Uncle, and me, as we walk this journey together. The road is rough, but we know paradise lays ahead for our dear loved one, and we will meet again one day.

"Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies." John 11:25