Busy, Busy, Busy

Life has been moving at a frenetic pace here lately. My work has devolved into two solid weeks of fixing someone else's (well . . . technically MANY someone else's) stupendous mismanagement of a relatively easy project. Add to that the beginning of our childbirth class, an extra doctor's appointment, the approach of a freelance deadline, and the onset of our 7-week stretch of no free weekends, and I feel like a juggler in a circus--no sooner do I release one pin than another three are already in the air, headed directly at my face.

Let's take it one step at a time.
#1: Childbirth class. It's begun! TH and I are taking a Bradley class. Now, those of you who are familiar with the Bradley method are already thinking one of two things: (1) Ah, yes, the beautiful practice of natural childbirth, without any of those dangerous, meddlesome, unnecessary medical interventions so frequently forced on unsuspecting mothers these days, OR (2) Holy crap, is she CRAZY?? Who on Earth would willingly choose natural childbirth when we have such wonderful advances in modern medicine that you can actually enjoy the birth process without screaming that you want to die or kill someone else?

Actually, you would both be wrong. Yes, the Bradley method is focused on "natural" childbirth (and I use that term here only in it's Bradley vernacular to mean "limited to no unnecessary medical intervention, including pain medication). But I'm not. What I mean is, I'm not all about natural childbirth. I'm not anti-epidural. Confused about what TH and I are doing in that class? We are of the mindset that knowledge is power. We want to go into every important situation in our lives armed with the most knowledge possible so that we can make educated decisions for ourselves. Ignorance is no excuse for poor decision making, nor does it give you leave to embrace the victim identity when something unwanted happens to you. So, we decided that an 8-week Bradley class was going to teach us a lot more about the labor and delivery process than a 4-hour session at the hospital. Plus, I'm going to have a lot of laboring to do before I get to the point where I may or may not beg for pain relief. Plus, the Bradley method focuses very heavily on husband interaction and "coaching," which TH and I both found appealing. It gives TH a way of feeling empowered and connected to what's going to happen, as opposed to sitting on the sidelines, feeling helpless while I wince in pain.

And after our first class, we are so happy with our decision! We have learned several exercise and relaxation techniques, and are having fun practicing them at home. Husband-guided relaxation, responsive massage, etc. have all been (A) wonderful for me, and (B) have given us a sense of responsibility and seriousness about what is going to happen nine weeks from now (wow, NINE weeks!!).

#2: An extra doctor's appointment. So, I failed my one-hour glucose test. Dang. What that meant was that I had to return for the three-hour test. This was stressful not only because it was the last step before an official diagnosis of gestational diabetes, but also because my boss has become less tolerant of all of my doctor's appointments and now here I was, not coming in 15 minutes late, but having to miss three hours of work! Luckily I have been working so much overtime due to aforementioned crazy work project that she gave me an "free" half-day off, so I just used that. The appointment itself wasn't that bad--I took some knitting and a book, and the 45 minutes or so between draws passed relatively quickly. The only bad part was looking like a heroin addict with all the track marks in my two arms. And it was clear that some of the nurses knew how to draw blood without much pain or bruising, and some did not. But I made it through, bruises notwithstanding, and got the results the next day: passed! Woohoo! I failed the one-hour again, but then my blood sugar levels dropped quickly back into the normal range. I was told to simply continue my healthy diet and I would be fine. Yay! It's a good thing I haven't really been eating many sweets this entire time.

#3: The approach of a freelance deadline. Not really much to report here. The money is good. The work is easy. It's just a question of finding the time (and motivation) to do it while still feebly attempting to maintain that little thing called "a life" and "quality time with TH," both of which I am already well aware are on the endangered-species list as it is. Remember NINE WEEKS??

#4: Our 7-week stretch of no free weekends. That's right. As of right now, my weekends are officially booked until August 22. Hah! The wonderful part of that is that they are "booked" with visiting family and friends, both of which are wonderful things to have on our schedule. Two weekends ago we had TH's 30th birthday party, complete with a perfect view to our town's fireworks show from our roof. (Yes. I got on our roof. At 30 weeks pregnant. I was careful. Let's move on.) Last weekend we traveled to Dallas to visit our families to celebrate TH's birthday and his brother's birthday, which happen to fall on the exact same day, seven years apart!

I love being home, especially now that my grandparents have moved to town from Georgia. But the weekend was so jam-packed that I was literally overwhelmed by the end of each day. Friday evening we had a big dinner at my parents' house, where I was called "Octomom" (that's right...because I'm "HUGE!!!") by an obnoxious little twit who is due one month behind me (my family thinks she "oops forgot her BCP" in order to lock-down her then-BF, now-DH) and then told by same twit that I shouldn't be drinking Gatorade because of "all the salt" while she shoveled five pieces of bread, an "eating for two" helping of lasagna, and two servings of ice cream with hot fudge into her mouth. Now, I know that Gatorade is not the best thing to drink if you're not actually working out a lot (it is designed to replenish sodium), but in all the research I've done on pregnancy nutrition, never did I see Gatorade=the devil. Oh, and let's not forget: I wasn't drinking Gatorade. I haven't had one in months. She just thought she should tell me that rule. She then spent the rest of the evening lifting up her shirt and talking about how she's getting "dark hairs" and pimples on her belly. I kid you not.

Saturday my parents, my in-laws, my grandparents, my sister, and of course TH and I went and had a 4D ultrasound done of baby girl. TH and I really wanted to find a way to involve our parents in this process since they are not really around for much of the preparation excitement. True to form, baby girl was once again camera shy! She was actually bent in a full pike position--both her head AND her feat were up by my ribs. She used her legs and feet to hide her cute little face, and finally when convinced by our gentle prods to move them out of the way, she immediately buried her face in in arms. And then, at the end, the feet came back up. That's right. We have a shot of her hiding her face behind her legs AND arms. What an adorable little stinker. The tech told us we have a serious cuddler our hands. Baby girl, we can't wait for you to get here and bury your sweet little face in our arms and necks and chests! Our parents and grandparents teared up at the sight of her on the screen; they felt so lucky and blessed to be able to see her (and her appendages) in such detail. They can't wait for you to get here, Ali!!

After the ultrasound, TH and I went to Babies 'R' Us with the in-laws. They wanted to buy us our stroller system for the shower next weekend and figured it would be easier if we were there showing them which one, how registries work, etc. When my mother-in-law saw the stroller we picked out, she frowned and eventually asked us if we needed more time to reconsider our choice. Then she said she had been hoping we would have picked something a little more "sophisticated." At that point, my patience and endurance were wearing thin. The look I gave TH prompted him to take over and do most of the communicating with his parents from there on out.

That night we had the big birthday dinner at the in-laws house. Russian food is both the most delicious and most horrible food I've ever had, depending on the dish. Luckily being pregnant gives me free reign to be picky about what I eat, and no one was trying to force jellied meats or caviar on me as is typical for family meals at their house. By 10 p.m. I was exhausted and it was time to cut the party short. Luckily we were taking TH's grandparents home and they were ready to leave too, so we didn't even have to blame our early departure on me.

Sunday we got up and drove an hour north to visit my other grandmother and take her out to lunch. Then we turned around and headed home, for a total of about five hours in the car yesterday. Add to this packed weekend two nights of tossing and turning on an air mattress and then a futon, and I know you will believe me when I tell you I am SO happy to be back home, back to our normal crazy lives, back to my bed, my cats, my relatively calm pace.

So, as you can see, our lives have been busy, busy, busy. So much for taking these last two months to slow down and enjoy our free time before our lives change forever!