9w2d for the last time

Damn you, Whirlpool commercial.



So I have to remind myself that crying over dumb commercials and being so sick that I can't lift my head off the desk is OKAY because it's temporary. In fact, it's too temporary.

I will never be nine weeks and two days pregnant again.

I will never be this sick from growing a baby again.

I will never outgrow my clothes for legitimate reasons again.

After January, I will never anticipate holding my newborn for the first time again.

I already feel the void of the end of all this beauty. So I must remember to endure, and close my eyes, and listen to life as it slowly grows. Because it will all be over too fast.

9 weeks not a secret anymore

Happy Father's Day to one awesome daddy.


You're going to love him, little one. And he will love you.

Obligatory bump pic. Everyone is surprised and excited that you're joining the world!

8 weeks first view

This was my first view of Surprise Schultz.

One healthy baby due January 25, 2016.

There isn't much to see at 8 weeks old. Baby is the size of a raspberry with a rapidly beating heart (the white dot in the middle of the body). Mostly it looks like a tadpole.

On Monday, July 13, I'll hear the heartbeat. On Friday, July 17, I'll get a serious ultrasound -- the same screening that predicted Truman was a boy. So I have a new milestone to obsess over look forward to!

6w2d I forgot what this is like

The nausea, which was only intermittent at five weeks, is now a constant, churning force of nature, threatening to wring out the contents of my stomach at the slightest taste or smell.

Thanks to the fatigue, I have to lay my head down once an hour, and I even managed to fall asleep with my face on a coffee table.

I had to tell my children to stop headbutting my stomach because mommy has a tummy ache that's going to last for the next several months.

There's a living, breathing heartburn monster inside my body trying to burn it's way up my throat.

My husband asks how I'm feeling and I want to punch him because ohmygod-how-do-you-think-I-feel-right-now.

All of my clothes are uncomfortable and it's pretty much impossible to hide the bump that has already formed (despite my husband's disbelief that I could possibly have a bump this early on -- thanks a lot, dear).

I throw away perfectly good food because ohmygod-I'm-going-to-barf-get-it-away-from-me.

...What's different this time around? There's nothing cutesy or lovey, except what I offer the baby silently in quiet moments throughout my day. It seems like there are no positive comments or conversations (yet), just semantics and worries and more incredulity. It's a lot of how-are-we-going-to-fit-them-in-our-cars and how-are-we-going-to-pay-for-daycare and I-thought-you-said-this-wasn't-going-to-happen.

And that's just not fair to you, baby. Or me, damn it. I want the smiles and the onesies, the daydreams and the warmth of the miracle that you are. You are loved and wanted, and my happiness is big enough for all of it, all of us.

5w 2d surprise

Dear Surprise Baby,

On Sunday, May 17, 2015, I found out that you exist. Barely. I was only four weeks along. But the night before, your daddy kept asking me why I was standing funny and rubbing my torso, and I said, "I feel like I'm pregnant." So that next morning I took a pregnancy test just to be funny, and there was that immortal second line on the test in a nice dark blue. I took another test to make sure. Another positive.

I couldn't really breathe right for the next couple hours. In the shower, I kept cycling through the emotions: incredulity, joy, anxiety, eagerness, denial. I giggled. I tried to catch my breath. I texted my friend because I had to scream HOLY SHIT at someone.

When I told your daddy, I'm pretty sure he said, "Are you kidding me?" (He was barely awake.)

It's been more than a week now, and I think about you constantly.

There are a million difficult decisions to be made. (Ahem, now accepting donations for minivans and daycare.) But I promise you, we'll figure it out. We'll find a way. Whatever we have to do to bring you safely and soundly into the world and into our lives, we'll do it. We'll take care of you.

You're going to love your big brothers. I can't wait to tell them the news.

I can't wait to know you.

We're all going to love you.

40w2d overdue

The purpose of this blog was to record things I didn't want to forget and to help work out problems taking up too much space in my brain, like Dumbledore's pensieve. I'm not sure where this falls, probably somewhere between.

Of all the normal problems of pregnancy (and babies, for that matter), the reality of the not-sleeping cliche has to be the worst -- the way every time I get into bed, it's just a thin mockery of real sleep that keeps me there until 2 or 3 am when I give up. The thought that giving birth will do nothing to fix this doesn't comfort.

I will probably never be pregnant again. I wanted to enjoy what was left of my pregnancy, to focus on the magic of it. Sometimes I still do. The foot sticking out of my right side, the hard butt pushing out of the left side of the bump. The strangers stopping me in the middle of a K-Mart to offer unsolicited advice or bizarre stories. People telling me to "go for a long walk" to get labor started, because they don't realize how much walking and yoga and everything else I've been doing for weeks. The excitement of the unknown. The smell of the newborn diapers and tiny laundered clothes just poised and waiting for the sweet little boy to wear them. The way thinking about anything like this almost overwhelms me with emotion.

But god in heaven I am tired. I don't know the difference between the sun and the moon, and just holding my head on top of my body requires the strength of Hercules.

35w6d getting ready and wallowing

The edible comparison for baby is now a honeydew. Depending on where you look, he could be 5 pounds and 18 inches long, or 6 pounds and 20 inches long already.

Doctor says his head is quite low -- she was poking it. I'm one centimeter dilated and 50 percent effaced.

Baby's liver, kidneys, circulation, and immune system should be in working order. He's very close to being able to breathe on his own (that should be a week from now, when I'm considered full term).

I kept thinking that September would be a big month where everything in my life changed, but that turned out to be August. Andy had to switch to first shift, and I'm working some insane combination of first and second shift plus my second job. Fletcher is in daycare three days a week, and when baby joins him there, we'll be spending so much money on it that I won't know how to pay our mortgage.

I have only two emotional states. Complete lethargy where I'm only semi-conscious, and panicked mania where I'm convinced that I have to work - have to clean - have to accomplish every goal I've ever set for myself because when baby comes it's all over. The fear of losing our house adds nicely into that.

How much can one brain think about at once? A lot. Every minute is focused on baby, in addition to everything else in my life. The mental exhaustion is really something when combined with the worst insomnia I've ever had.

I won't even get into the physical exhaustion and pain. Suffice it to say that if Andy "jokes" any more about how he knows all about it (and has it worse) because he's heavier than I am, I'm going to punch him in the face.

I run through my list of blessings often. I haven't forgotten how lucky I am, how good things are, how sad I will be when my last pregnancy is over forever.

But I need permission to sit and wallow in how hard this all is. I have to give myself that.

31w2d coconut

We've agreed on a name, so unless a miraculous new name comes along (or he turns out to be a she), this jumpy baby is officially labeled.

This week's food analogy: baby is like a big coconut with arms and legs -- around 16 inches long and 3-4 pounds. He'll be doubling his weight in the next eight weeks.

His bones are fully developed. His wide-open eyes are getting ready for birth, gaining the bluish color he'll probably be born with. His constant kicking, somersaulting, and hiccuping is the driving force for my nausea, insomnia, and heartburn. Have I mentioned heartburn? HEARTBURN. In the all-star wrestling match between my lungs, uterus, and bladder, it isn't a surprise that the uterus is by far the victor. 

Although he's getting long, he has some plumping up to do before delivery. He may be practicing breathing with amniotic fluid. His brain is online -- processing information, tracking light, and perceiving signals from all five senses. His central nervous system can probably control his body temperature now.

For my 32-week appointment on Wednesday, I need to alert the doctor to the frequent Braxton Hicks contractions I've been having, along with some sharp abdominal pain, so that we keep an eye out for pre-term labor. I'm all for delivering before the due date, just not this far before it.

I'm eager for the appointment in a few weeks that will determine the baby's exact position and whether or not I'm dilated already. At the same time, I wish pregnancy wasn't going so fast. This is probably the last time I will ever be 31 weeks and 2 days pregnant. These are the last months of my life that I might feel this big alien movement under my skin. It's the last time Fletcher will be an only child.

The baby stuff we have is pretty much unpacked and ready, which means I have to unpack for myself now. And next on the list is to get my hospital bag ready.

Nesting in a new house when I have to spend all my time working is an insane endeavor. Similarly, I contacted the school district to get Fletcher's therapy set up, and now I'm basically telling them that I can't fit it into our schedule. Unless we win the money or grandparent lottery, Andy and I are going to raise our children by not sleeping. Apparently. Something has to give by wintertime.

24w 2d this close

Babies are most active between 24 and 28 weeks, since after that they run out of room for all the acrobatics. Little brother is just as energetic as big brother. My uterus is the size of a soccer ball, squishing all my other organs.

He's at least a foot tall, probably more, and weighs about a pound and a half. He's practicing breathing and really starting to gain the fat that will make him look like a baby. At this point there's about a fifty percent chance of (complicated) survival if he's born. His hands are developed, hearing is more acute, and he has taste buds, so he can probably taste anything strong that I eat or drink.

Just before we move to our new house, I have my 28 week appointment, which will feature the glucose blood draw with the gross drink. Then I'll start seeing the doctor every two weeks rather than every four.

My first pregnancy went so slowly, so full of anticipation I couldn't stand it. This pregnancy just won't slow down for a second. How can we be this close to being a family of four already?

17w2d I'm never alone

What a pleasure it is, in the middle of a stress hurricane, to remember that a baby is with me every moment of the day and night. I am never alone, not even for a second. What a beautiful miracle it is having baby with me, a part of me, for these months.

Last night was a first -- baby was particularly kicky so I placed my hand over the spot where I know he is. Thump! Against my hand, he kicked twice. No matter how ugly or crabby I am, that little greeting wipes everything out.

It's fantastic that I didn't have to wait until 20w3d, like I had to with Fletcher. Everything's happening fast with this one.

I felt another kick against my hand this morning, another just now, and like an addict I can't wait for the next.

Feeling nostalgic, I'm listening to Mariah Carey circa early 1990s. I listened to this a hundred times on my cassette tape...

Lying beside you, this joy is so deep
I reach out and touch you tenderly
Looking inside you, my world is complete
I struggled to find you, now I'm free
Precious love, burning so deeply
Shining completely for you

So blessed, amazingly
Touching you now awakens me
You are my heart, my everything
Feeling you now is all I need

Adrift in the moment, so sacred and pure
Alive for you only, I am yours
As you touch me so sweetly
And you whisper my name
I feel how you love me, we are the same
Precious one, don't ever leave me
Forever need me this way

Stay with me beyond the end
I'll treasure you 'cause you made me whole again

So Blessed by Mariah Carey

16w6d this week's food analogy

At least five inches from head to butt, baby is now the size of a red onion. Between this week and next week, baby will start to hear muffled sounds like my heart beating and stomach rumbling but probably won't discern voices. He's working hard on the basic reflexes of sucking and swallowing. Skinny baby is taking on some baby fat now, so this is a time of tremendous growth (he could quickly reach six or seven inches). A handful of people have suggested that my bump has really "popped." His boy or lady bits have taken shape, so we look forward to sneaking a peak in three weeks.

Baby's kicks never fail to brighten my mood.

Seventeen weeks down already. It's going lightning fast.

15w5d punch in

Baby is a 4.5-inch avocado now. (Why do they always compare to food?) Very soon baby could be able to hear me, and bones and facial features are all straightening out and firming up. A big growth spurt is on the way.

I heard baby's heartbeat yesterday, but I'm at the point in the pregnancy now where these appointments are rushed through. No ultrasound, no conversation, just "yup, that's the heartbeat, see you next month." The clinic becomes a pregnant woman's assembly line. Punch in, punch out.

I know I've read that things are different with the second pregnancy as far as how much you think or focus on the baby-to-come because you're already focused on the kid that's here. I haven't really found that. I guess my brain has the Cullen-clan capacity to multitask because most of the time at least part of my concentration is centered on this little person. It will probably be more so when kicks become a regular thing rather than a quiet-time-only surprise.

An interesting time

I'm licking the frosting off my doughnut wrapper and thinking this is what desperation tastes like. Pregnancy has turned me into Homer Simpson. I would do nearly anything to obtain my daily doughnut, because it seems to be what gets me through the day.

In the process of trying to make life better I keep making life worse, at least for myself. Is this what parenting is? Is this what living is?

There's no time for anything. In fact, I don't have time to make this blog post, but I am, because I'm a stupid twat. That's the essence of the problem--every time I take something for myself, it's a bad idea because it's at the expense of something important, like one of my jobs, or my family members, or my home, etc.

It's rough when the guilt you feel for "me time" is justifiable. It's not just the "I'm being too hard on myself" guilt. I've worked myself into a tiny corner, and now I have to figure out how to live here. The word "sacrifice" bounces regularly through my head, and my opinion on it varies.

Our home finally goes up for sale today. Fletcher is starting daycare next week. This week, I need to get to the doctor to pick up his daycare paperwork, to the pharmacy to get his epi pen, and to the clinic for his allergy blood draw (fun). I need to coordinate around Andy's work training. I'm completely out of personal time at work, so every minute off the clock takes away from my maternity leave. I have a huge editing project due in two weeks that I've barely started. I have another prenatal doctor appointment tomorrow. And every other fricking day there's another therapy session, evaluation, or meeting regarding Fletcher's speech delay.

So, yeah. The good news is that Fletcher is starting to talk a little. He remains the bright shining light that illuminates my tiny corner. His favorite thing to say lately is "fell down." So he (and all his toys) regularly fall down. It's like living with a drunk.

His favorite foods right now are ice cream (cream!), cookies (coo-kie!), poptarts (tart!) and golden crisp/honey smacks (cereal!). Mac 'n cheese (noodle!) and apples are also popular. He says open (owen), mommy, daddy, blankie, play, sock, shoes, coat, in, out, no no no, no way, milk, up up up, toot, burp, car, tractor, plane, flower, ball, run, water, tree, stick, lion king, and several animals--his favorites being turtle, cow, bunny, monkey, sheep, horse, pig, duck, and kitty. Other words we've heard include "thank you" (although he says it when he expects you to say it to him), farm, grandma, movie, sweep, orange, apple, arm, ear, nose, hair, eyes, teeth, belly, toes, foot, sand, home, push, pull, santa, baby, diaper, pretzel, toast, corn, fries, sit, guitar, roar, light, stool, clean, dirty, wipe, where are you, remote (ote), mine, turn, set go (won't say "ready" though), icky, ni-night, sky, pillow, uh-oh, sun, spoon, refill, kick, high-ya!, happy, sad, ow, cord, meow, moo, bzzzz....sting, and I can't think of the rest but there's a lot. He might say "I'll get it" or "I got it," I'm not sure.

My goal is to get him to the point, soon, where I can ask him a question that isn't "yes or no" and he answers. Right now, if you ask him if he wants this or that, he just whines.

We're on the edge of many changes. With no cover on his doorknob anymore (for potty training purposes), Fletcher has the most freedom he's ever had. Next week, he will for the first time in his life spend a few hours without any family members. Andy's work hours are changing. We may have showings coming up soon and if we're lucky, we'll be moving. And oh yeah, there's a squirmy baby inside me that we have no clue how we're going to fit into our schedule.

It's an interesting time.

13w5d hello to you too

Baby is around three and a half inches long from head to butt -- the size of a lemon. Half of that is his head.

They say that feeling/noticing fetal movement happens earlier with subsequent pregnancies and I'm happy to say they were right, so neener-neener to you naysayers. I know a kick when I feel one. It turns out it's a sensation you don't forget. I can feel the subtle differences already -- the surprising thump of a stretching/turning over baby versus the tickling flutter of a wiggling baby deep inside. I don't feel it often, only a couple times at night, but it's like an unexpected "hello" from the great unknown.

Baby already has fingerprints and could be sucking his thumb. He squints and frowns. And since he's our kid, he is probably starting to grow his full head of hair.

I think I yawned four times while writing this. Holy CRAP growing a person is exhausting and constant.

11w6d you're not a day too soon

And then we heard your heart beating.

Honey, I will stitch you
Darling, I will feel you in my heart
Honey, I will meet you
Darling, I will keep you in my heart
I've been running all my life
I ran away, I ran away from good
Yeah, I've been waiting all my life
You're not a day, you're not a day too soon

from "Day Too Soon" by Sia

11w5d amazed

"Look at you."

"Just look at you."

Maybe the ultrasound tech thought I was crazy, but I talked to the baby all during the ultrasound. I just couldn't believe what I was seeing. He was turning, kicking, bouncing, dancing, twisting, and ricocheting like a pinball. He looked so much like a grown baby as he showed off his moves and various body parts... hands, feet, legs, arms, and perfect baby head. He also showed off a part that, if the "nub theory" is to be believed, indicates he's a boy.

I'm going to be outnumbered.

Amazement. Sure, pictures are nice, but a movie is so much more. And to know that what you're watching is live action? It awed me. He was so... alive.

And for the first time in a long time, despite sleepless nights and stress to the breaking point, I feel alive too.

Upturned face. You can see the round glow of the heart and a faint hand.

I know he can't "see," but it looks like he's studying his perfect little hand.

He measures big--12 weeks 4 days, almost a week ahead. The results of the screening will come in a week. For now, I'm trying to hold onto the glow of this tiny, active miracle as long as I can.

7w4d? lima bean

Andy said our jelly bean looks more like a lima bean. I'm not even sure if lima beans are bigger than jelly beans, but let's just decide that they are.

Once again this time around, I'm confused by the doctor's timing, but I'll just go with it. She says baby is due September 28, and that today I'm 7 weeks and 4 days pregnant. Baby measures 7 weeks and 6 days, though, which is what I thought I was...

So whatever. I'll count Saturdays as the first day of every new week from here on out.

Next appointment will be a month from now, though I may be doing the early screening at the hospital in a few weeks if I feel like it.

Right now I don't feel like doing much of anything. Even eating, my one joy lately, has taken a wrong turn into vomit-land. Too much work, painful nausea, and a night-owl toddler mean I don't nap and barely sleep at night. I feel like a zombie, if zombies were prone to throwing up.

Hello, bean.

7w2d Jelly Bean

What was a tiny sesame seed last week is a big jelly bean this week. Baby measured two days ahead of where she actually is. The doctor decided on a due date of September 28. And on Tuesday I decided, for no particular reason, that I think it's a girl, though I'm kind of hoping for a boy because I've really loved being a boy's mom so far.

The bright white dot in the center of my jelly bean is the beating heart.

Time has brought your heart to me

6 weeks 1 day

Today I saw your tiny heart beating, and it felt like I was meeting you for the first time. It was like shaking your hand, and learning that all the time I waited for you, you were waiting too—two stars moving toward each other across galaxies and finally getting our chance to collide.

Yes, just one baby in there.

Facts:

• This week, arms and legs are budding, the organs are forming, the umbilical cord has formed, and the facial features are becoming more defined. The little heart beats more than 100 times per minute.
• March 22 is the start of the second trimester (or March 15, depending on who you ask)
• May 10 is the middle of the pregnancy, when we would most likely learn blue or pink
• June 28 is the start of the third trimester (or June 21)
• September 27 baby is due (as of right now)

I had a number of songs while pregnant with Fletcher that felt like they belonged to us—Innocence by Avril Lavigne, These Are The Days by Van Morrison, In My Arms by Plumb, Sea Of Love by Cat Power, The Very Thought of You by Billie Holiday, Stay Awake from Mary Poppins, and I'm With You by Avril Lavigne (which I sang to him on the day he was born).

And now this is my song with you, tiny one.

A Thousand Years by Christina Perri

Heart beats fast
Colors and promises
How to be brave
How can I love when I'm afraid to fall
But watching you stand alone
All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow

One step closer

I have died every day waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid
I have loved you
For a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

Time stands still
Beauty in all she is
I will be brave
I will not let anything take away
What's standing in front of me

Every breath, every hour has come to this

One step closer

I have died every day waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid I have loved you
For a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

And all along I believed I would find you 
Time has brought your heart to me 
I have loved you for a thousand years 
I'll love you for a thousand more 

5 weeks pyrotechnics

Can you freak out from happiness? I feel so completely pregnant, and it's the happiest I've felt to the core in a long time. I'm a perpetually exploding firework, and I'm sure everyone must see my pyrotechnics.

With this kind of happiness comes complete vulnerability to the universe and what it could do. I'm at the mercy of a baby that's the size of a sesame seed, whose miniature heart is just beginning to beat. I'm at the mercy of my body, and my environment, and everything in my world. Just let me be happy, please, just let me have this.


Under your spell again.
I can't say no to you.
Crave my heart and it's bleeding in your hand.
I can't say no to you.

Shouldn't let you torture me so sweetly.
Now I can't let go of this dream.
I can't breathe but I feel...

Good enough,
I feel good enough for you.

Drink up sweet decadence.
I can't say no to you,
And I've completely lost myself,
and I don't mind.
I can't say no to you.

Shouldn't let you conquer me completely.
Now I can't let go of this dream.
Can't believe that I feel...

Good enough,
I feel good enough.
It's been such a long time coming,
but I feel good.

And I'm still waiting for the rain to fall.
Pour real life down on me.
'Cause I can't hold on to anything this good enough.

Am I good enough for you to love me too?

So take care what you ask of me, 'cause I can't say no.

Good Enough by Evanescence