Author: Becky

My kids crack me up. With four pregnancies close together and mom on bedrest during three of the four, it’s like having little Ob’s running around the house.

Well. . . not exactly.

But take, for instance, Mara advising me this weekend when I felt very very little movement from Braxton, both Saturday and Sunday, and the movements I did feel seemed almost involuntary. (Like, when I rolled on my side, I felt his arm move.) Daniel and I were talking about this, discussing whether to go to triage. Mara, my little in-house obstetrician, says, “I think you should drink some orange juice, Mom.” Apparently she remembered me saying, some time ago, that if you don’t feel the baby moving, you should drink some OJ and lay down on your left side for about an hour.

Eventually I did go in Sunday night and naturally, when you go in, your baby’s heart rate looks great. And Monday morning, he was kicking and punching as hard as ever–like he had taken the weekend off and was back to work.

Both Mara and Micah keep asking, “How many more weeks, Mommy?”

Earlier this week, when Micah asked, I said, “Not much longer now, Buddy! He could come any time!”

Micah is at this annoying stage of repeating almost every. single. thing I say in the form of a question. So with genuine excitment he shrieked, “Not much long-er?!?!?!?! An-y time?!?!?!?! . . . So, Mommy! Go to the doctor and let him cut your tummy open!”

Yesterday Mara asked again, ‘how many more weeks.’ And I said, “Just two and a half weeks left.”

“Two and a half?” she said dejectedly. “It seems like he should be here by now.”

Tell me about it.

I had my real ob appointment on Wednesday the 13th. Dr. Z told me that we need to go ahead and schedule a c-section, in case I go overdue. Since I’ve had a prior section, they won’t induce me and they say there is a danger of rupture if I go too far overdue. So it seems like, very worst case scenario, I could have up to three weeks left. It was just the same with Carissa–after all the preterm labor issues, it is almost depressing to discuss needing a c-section “if you go overdue.” With these last two pregnancies, we have been “prepared” for every possible scenario!

Dr. Z said I’m between 2-3 cm, 70% effaced, and the baby’s head is “definitely lodged in there” at a station of -1. She also stripped my membranes, and afterwards she was very optimistic about my chances of going into labor. “The last two women I did this for–one was right before lunch. She went into labor right after lunch. The other went into labor the very next day. Sooooo. . .”

But with Carissa, I was 39 weeks when Dr. M stripped my membranes, and despite having strong contractions for a few hours afterwards, I didn’t deliver for four more days–until my due date.

So I’m not holding my breath. But I’ll admit there was part of me that got excited thinking, ‘It could be tonight!’

I went to Carter’s again. I had a coupon, knew they are still having their clearance sale and figured walking the mall couldn’t hurt–and found a couple great deals for each of the kids for next year. I know I won’t be going to the mall very much once little Braxton arrives.

In the meantime, I–like the kids–keep asking, “How many more weeks?”

For the past two months, I have been struggling to sleep. Even before bedrest began, my contractions were always strongest in the early morning hours (1 – 4 AM) and it has been often 3:30 – 4 AM before I fall asleep. With Daniel getting up at 5:30 for work and the kids waking between 6 – 7, you can imagine I have been feeling the effects of sleep deprivation.

I certainly have a greater appreciation for its use as a torture tactic! I feel like a different person without sleep, capable of all sorts of grouchiness and ineptitude that I never knew could describe me. . . I really struggle to function on a number of levels with this little sleep, which is why I try to nap whenever the kids are napping (I usually get to sleep another hour or two, if I’m lucky!). Daniel says I’m much nicer in the evening, after my nap. 😉 I know it’s true.

I realized during Carissa’s pregnancy I was on procardia for a couple of months, which didn’t do anything to reduce my contractions, but kept my blood pressure so low that I could hardly stay awake, day or night. While I was hospitalized on the Mom Unit with Carissa, the nurses would literally wait to take my blood pressure until after I had walked around, because they weren’t supposed to give me procardia if my blood pressure was already less than 90/50, and without walking first, my blood pressure frequently dropped lower. So until week 37, I had “help” sleeping. . .  and I do remember experiencing the insomnia between weeks 37-40, but that was nothing compared to literally two months of almost no sleep!

So we are trying to figure out when my body can sleep, and work our family schedule around it.

Tonight I was excessively tired after dinner, so I put Carissa down for the night around 7:30, and Daniel took the older two.

I was exhausted, so I didn’t even go back downstairs. I just lay down in bed and instantly fell asleep. Daniel came in our room after putting the kids to bed and said to sleep as long as I could. I said I felt guilty—I hadn’t yet cleaned the kitchen, picked up the living room, or made his lunch for work—and he said if I woke up later and couldn’t sleep, I would have time to do some things then. I went right back to sleep, and it felt so good. . .

Until all of a sudden, I hear my four-year-old shouting next to my bed, “Mommy! Do you know Micah is sleeping in your bed?!”

Now I do.

I asked Mara why she was my room. She told me she got up to go potty and saw Micah’s door—and my door—were both open, so she went to find Micah. When he wasn’t in his room, she found him—in my bed! The way Mara reported it, you would have thought she had just discovered that her brother had just killed somebody.

I don’t know if my eyes had completely opened yet, but I hadn’t seen Micah. I’m sure he was thinking “I’d better get out of here,” since Daniel had warned him sternly not to get out of bed.

But right at that moment, I heard a “thunk.” Probably trying to escape, Micah had bonked his head on Daniel’s nightstand and began screaming his characteristic drama scream. He should really get into acting.

I, of course, was still trying to “come to,” when next I heard Carissa’s blood-curdling cry coming over the baby monitor. (She has been waking up screaming in the night lately, and I don’t know if it’s nightmares or what? I usually change her diaper, give her more water in her sippy, hold her and sing to her for a minute, and she is content to lay down again.) I was surrounded by screams.

Before I could get up, Mara ran back into the girls’ room. Over the baby monitor, I hear her say, “Be quiet, Carissa! I’m trying to put Mommy to bed!”

Carissa’s—and Micah’s—screams continued, even louder. So Mara paused, then asked Carissa, “Are you having bad dreams?”

By that point, I wasn’t going back to sleep, so I went to the girls’ room. Carissa quite literally lept out of her crib into my arms and clung to me with her head on my shoulder, patting my back with her little hand.

Maybe it was a bad dream. Or maybe Carissa was worried, thinking that Mara was actually going to be in charge of putting Mommy and the other kids to bed from now on.

If only Mara could put me to bed and get me to sleep alllll night. . .

For the longest time, Daniel and I called the ice cream truck “the music truck,” which left our kids with the impression that it was just a truck, driving around all afternoon playing music for kids. This terminology conveniently eliminated daily discussion over whether or not to buy ice cream.

And as long as they never asked about ice cream, we never felt the need to mention it.

Here in the city, we have several “music trucks” making their rounds from early afternoon to late evening, all summer long. So it’s not just a once-a-day thought. It’s more like alllll afternoon, every day, allll summer long!

Sometime last summer, Mara figured it out. I remember her coming to me near the end of the summer, saying, “Mommy, I saw these people going up to the music truck–and when they walked away, they had ice cream!”

She had this expression that said, “I’m sure I saw it, but we’ve never talked about it before. And we all looovvve ice cream!”

Honestly, I was surprised this hadn’t come up sooner. I was frank with her. “Yes,” I said, “Most people call it the ‘ice cream truck’ since you can get ice cream there, but we don’t buy ice cream there, so we just call it the music truck, since it plays music.”

She seemed okay with that explanation.

But over time, seeing people come and go–with ice cream and various other treats–has, of course, piqued her interest and increased her desire to buy ice cream from the “music truck.”

Tonight we had yet another discussion.

“Mommy, why can’t we buy ice cream from the music truck?” she asked.

“We get our ice cream on sale at Shoprite,” I told her, “and it costs a lot more to buy ice cream from the ice cream truck.”

Then Micah chimes in. Surprisingly my three-year-old: arguing “Why We Should Not Buy Ice Cream From The Music Truck.”

“Mara!” he exclaimed in a ‘you-should-know-better’ tone of voice. “We already have ice cream!–In the freezer!”

“YES!” I laughed to myself. “Someone has been listening!”

When you consider that I pay $1.99 – $2.50 for our ice cream, and that serves the whole family two or three times, it’s really hard to justify buying ice cream from the ice cream truck. But of course, my four-year-old is just not thinking on that level yet.

“When I grow up, I’m going to let my kids buy ice cream from the music truck,” Mara declared.

And, as Daniel said, when she grows up and is earning her own money, she can certainly make that decision for her kids if she wants! . . . I know. We’re such mean parents. . .

Maybe it will surprise you to know that Daniel will, however, take the kids for water ice several times throughout the summer.

When I get off bedrest . . . . .

Tuesday evening was my 34-1/2 week-almost-35-week-appointment with Dr. M.

He was the same one I saw last time, and although he’s not my favorite, I do like having the same ob for a couple of visits, since I always have to explain my pregnancy situation/history.

Good news:

• No cervical change (which is the main thing we always want to hear–at least until we’re ready for baby to come! Then we want to see change!!)
• The baby’s head is down (YAY!)
• Dr. M sees no reason that I would need a c-section presently, unless some scenario arises closer to/during labor that would ordinarily call for a c-section.
• At this point, if I dilate further, the ob will not do anything to prevent delivery. Which means that the only reason I would need to come up to triage would be if I felt that delivery was imminent.
• Just two weeks and two days until I am “full-term” (at 37 weeks). . . of course, five weeks and two days remain until my actual due date . . .

I did tell Dr. M about my sleep struggles. My contractions are always worse between 1-3AM. All the obs say ‘maybe you’re dehydrated, get up and drink some water.‘ But the problem with that theory is I get up at least every hour to use the bathroom, and I get a drink of water every time. (So maybe my full bladder is causing contractions? The drs say ‘no.’)

I experienced the same with Carissa, and after weeks of contractions keeping me up through the night, they had prescribed a sleeping pill to help my body rest for a couple of nights. I’m not a real proponent of sleeping pills. I know they can be addictive, but in certain limited circumstances, I can see their value.

I was hoping Dr. M would prescribe something, but no. His answer completely took me by surprise.

“Just drink a glass of wine before bed each night,” he instructed. “It will help ease the contractions and relax you so you can sleep.”

I must have looked shocked, because he quickly added: “It won’t hurt the baby. Years ago, we used to prescribe alcohol intravenously as a tocolytic before we had the options that we have today.”

I’ve never really enjoyed wine, or developed a taste for it, but I’m sure lots of women would be thrilled to get that advice from their ob! This is the same guy who stripped my membranes with Carissa, without even asking me or telling me afterwards that he did it. . . so maybe he’s a little . . . unconventional . . .

And, last but not least, Carter’s Baby store is having their Super Duper Summer Clearance sale. I figured with “full-term” coming so soon, I should start easing off bedrest graaaadually. (What better way to do that than at Carters without children?!)

Daniel called me, after seeing Google Latitude placing me at the mall, and asked, “Sooo did you actually have a dr’s appointment? or are you just spending my hard-earned money at the outlet mall?”

“Oh, was it hard-earned?” I asked innocently.

Oh, and can you put the kids to bed? After I leave the mall, I’m going to go get myself a glass of wine!

Doctor’s orders. 😉

For friends who ask what bedrest is like . . .

• Me laying on the couch in the living room, mid- to hi-80’s inside, since it’s 99 outside.
• 4-year-old coloring quietly at the dining room table.
• 3-year-old laughing hysterically trying to lift my shirt to “blow on your tummy” to make me laugh (his contagious laughter alone is enough to send me into labor).
• 1-year-old hitting me on the head with her brother’s dinosaur, saying “RAWHRR! RAWHRRR!”