Six weeks of Pregnancy to Go

I have about six weeks left until our fourth child arrives. I am 33 years old, and have had three pregnancies in the last three years. When this child is born, and for six months, I will have three children under the age of three. My oldest daughter will be 13 years old next month. Currently she is attending school out of the country and will not be back until several weeks after this baby is born. I miss her. I long for her help too, though I worry about asking too much too often.

Like any mom, I am amazed at the highs and lows I can have in one day. As far as this pregnancy goes, I am both tired of it, and trying to enjoy it, as it is my last. I am beginning the stage where the baby gains weight, sits lower in the pelvic cradle and causes that burning ache in the pelvic bones that makes it difficult to lift one's leg into pants in the morning! I am more resentful of the bathroom and my inability to go longer than 10 minutes without needing it, than I can say! But…if that is my chief complaint during pregnancy, I have very little to complain about.

I have all the usual questions and concerns. I feel as though I have tempted fate, or been blessed with more than my share of beautiful, good-natured, whole children…and that perhaps this time I have been dealt a harsher hand. My doctor asked me several months ago if I wanted all the testing to see if this baby may be at risk for Down’s syndrome.

“To what end?” I asked him. He replied that it would be for purposes of termination. I was appalled. I guess there are those who would make that choice, and it is not with judgment that I think on them. It is simply not an option for me. It is not something I would consider religiously, morally, or emotionally. I always notice Down’s kids with their parents when I am out and about. I always have. I have a tender spot for them and always feel they are very sweet. That being said, I am also afraid too. If I were called upon to bear such a one, would I be able to meet the task? Not only am I intimidated at the extra care and effort involved, but I am ashamed to say, I am embarrassed to think of having less than perfect children. That is directly related to the fact that I have the self-esteem of a brick.

Speaking of which, I have had plenty of downs about weight for the last three years! I am at my heaviest now, which is only about 6 lbs. heavier than I’ve been during this whole time, even through all three pregnancies. In the big picture, it’s not horrible I suppose. I decline to mention the exact number of course, but I have been blessed with a fairly even distribution, so to see me you might not think I weigh what I do. Then again, you may think I could rival a Mack truck. I do have a number of people who think this baby is my first, and that I don’t look imminently due. I think those are compliments, though I am not sure!

I think, these days, I am just getting by. I eat what I feel like, for the most part. This provides the dual sensation of guilt at not being ultra-careful, and the relief of not being ultra-careful. In the end, it’s just a toss-up. I dread my next weigh-in at the doctor’s office. I am frustrated over lack of energy. I suppose I am not doing myself any real favors by not building my health with only the best foods, as I have a demanding job taking care of the two little boys I have here at home. I would serve them, and myself better, by keeping my carbohydrates low and cutting out the sugar. I know better, but I have been unable to find the mental drive to stick to it. I had a much higher drive this time last year, when I was pregnant with my 10 month old. I think I am just weary these days. I also know this is my last baby, and I wonder if the discomfort and strain of a strict diet and heavy exercise routine is worth it at this late hour. I have my work cut out for me in a couple months though, that’s for sure.

I am always flying so high after I have a baby. I am delighted with the new little life, and enjoying the compliments of how well I am doing with a brand new one, and how ‘good’ I look, (it’s all relative of course, as most people here haven’t ever seen me when I was NOT pregnant!). I do well for about the first month. After a month or so, reality sets in. The sleep deprivation starts to take its toll, and the fact that I still look better in maternity clothes is getting desperately old! It’s a rough time I don’t look forward to.

I am a good one for excuses too. “I’ll start Monday”…is a classic. Yet Monday after Monday has come and gone without the desired fire in my gut to do the things I know I should!

At any rate, these things are neither here nor there at the moment. I am trying to remember that as much as I am uncomfortable, tired, weary, sore, or short of breath…it is the last time I will feel the kicks and jabs of my child within. That it is the last time I will smile, or roll my eyes, at yet another set of hiccups that throb away in my womb like a ticking nerve. I long for the end, yet I feel nostalgia as well.

I am still a little panicked about labor. It hasn’t been long enough for me to forget the agony of childbirth. I haven’t had time to mentally gloss over the details since the last, so I am acutely aware of what I have to go through yet. Although, here again, I have little to complain about…my last labor lasted three and a half hours!! Some women will hate me for that! I really can’t complain…well, not much anyway.

Even as I write these random thoughts, the baby is hiccupping away. I wish I could put a face, or better, a gender to the movements within, but, as with my last baby, this one was distinctly uncooperative during the ultrasound, and it’s gender will be left to surprise us at the last possible moment. My husband thinks it’s a boy…as boys are pervasive in his family. I think he’d like a girl. I don’t know for sure what I want either way, as there are pros and cons to either! The truth is, I want a healthy child, sound of body and mind. The rest is cake.
I have blogged on enough for now. I am just throwing out random thoughts, none of which are life-altering or profound. It’s just nice to be writing.