Finding Out 4 And Other Things That Sound Like Jokes

 

If the fact that I’m pregnant with my 4th ever crosses your mind, and you find yourself shocked, so do I.  I find myself shocked when I say things like:

“I’m pregnant.”

“I’m 8 weeks.”

“I have a doctor’s appointment for an ultrasound.”

or

“I am going to have 4 kids in 6 years.”

I find myself thinking, “What is happening?  Is this real life?  Do my kids who apparently have a direct line to God who prayed this into my stomach every morning on the way to school have special powers?  Do they need a t.v. show?  Long Island Toddlers/Kindergartners?  I’m scared of my kids.”

I just thought I would let you guys know how the virgin conception of 2016 came to be since many have asked.  They might have asked because I told them I was done for sure, even wrote about it on here.  They might have asked what changed when they saw me selling off all of my baby stuff on Facebook which, by the way, I was doing in a Kroger parking lot 2 hours before I found out I was pregnant.  I have eaten many a crow since taking that test.  God is a miracle makin’ laugh factory sometimes.

Soooooooo, anyways.  Let me take you back to a cool December 15th night.  I was at Barnes and Noble with my friend and started to get a migraine so I had to split pretty fast.  On the way out I told her, “I’ve been having acid refulx for 2 days and peeing more…..”

“Maybe you are pregnant,” said the foreshadowing friend!

“That’s impossible.  I haven’t had any unprotected maritals.”

Dum Dum DUMMMMMMM….  Somewhere far off in heaven, an angel played that sound byte.

I ran to Kroger on my way home to grab a few baby food pouches (irony) and a few other things.  Even though I knew there was probably no chance I was pregnant, I stood in front of the tests and thought, “This is a total waste of 8.99 and it will be negative like a billion other times, but just to get even the slightest possibility out of the dark cobwebbed corner of my mind….”, I settle on a 2 pack of Kroger brand tests.

I come home to my house with my husband on the phone while my 5, 3, and 1 year old are running around.  I didn’t even tell my husband I had a test or that I even had the slightest inclination to take one so guess how surprised he was 2 minutes later?

I go straight to the toilet and take the test.  I look at the box to see what lines were supposed to be where and gasped as color shot across the screen.  “Whew,” I thought to myself, “that was just the color the pee made on the test as it went across the screen.

Two seconds later.

“Oh my gosh…”

“Oh MY gosh…”

“Heavens, angels and Justin Bieber!!!”

As clear as anything those 2 lines popped straight up.  I called clueless Lance in the bathroom to give him the shock of his lifetime.  He came in still on the phone so I hid my test while I still sat on the toilet. He thought I was hurling because of the migraine and that’s why I needed him.

I held up the test in the air like a white flag of surrender of a crazy uterus, “I’m pregnant!!!”

Lance’s face dropped in shock.  His eyes as big as ovaries, “That’s impossible!”

“I know!!!!,” I said.  How did this happen?!”

Literally we had been arguing after a bit of dry spell that we needed to practice marriage relations more and then here I stood, pregnant as a Duggar.  And I was starting to feel like a Duggar.  The girl who had infertility was now having 4 kids in 6 years and conceived this one ON CONTRACEPTION used with the accuracy of an FBI forensic investigator.  I literally took a screen shot of the test and Facebooked my ob’s nurse that night and said, “I have no idea how this happened.  This is basically another virgin birth experience.”  It was perfect.  Just in time for Christmas.

Lance legit asked me if I had a pregnant friend pee on the test as a joke. It was if we didn’t know where babies came from after all.  We were shocked.  Super style.

Within 5 minutes I called my mom, followed by Lance’s mom with the news heard round the world.  There were a few tears (on my end) and lots of laughing.  Many people have said, “I knew you would have another one.”  Uhhhh, did no one believe me?  Did everyone think I was a liar because I promise, those 10 different baby things I sold on Facebook were to actual people with actual items sold in real parking lots across America.  I was floored floored bo bored and I never thought I would have a surprise baby.

Even though I plan on seasons of delirium and crying, I am going to embrace this little person and the reality that, in fact, as I had once thought, I really WILL have four kids.  God is perfect and He has better ideas than me, anyways.

God either thinks I’m tougher than I think I am or He is planning on teaching me some REAL big lessons hashtag real life style.  He might just want to break me like a wild horse.

What can I say, my uterus loves a baby and God has some big plans for this one….just like He had for me when my mom conceived me, her 4th on birth control 34 years ago.  Yes, in just 30 something years, you too, little baby can be sitting on a couch with mascara on your face in your daughter’s hair tie, typing on a blog.  Something big is going on here….

 

 

Snipped: Closing Up Shop

 

We were driving when Lance out of no where said to me, “Do you think I should make an appointment to get snipped?”

“What?!,” I said in a little shock.

“We just had a newborn!  Can’t we give it a little while before we go out and do something so permanent?  What happens if we ever change our minds?  Reversals are a crap shoot as far as success goes.  I really can’t believe you just said that.”

What’s funny is that we had talked about Mendel being our last baby before we even conceived her. I really shouldn’t have been so surprised.

Three seems reasonable to me.  I wanted to feel like I had a good size family and three feels good.  You know, not too small, not too big for us to handle.  We have enough bedrooms for everyone, not that it’s a requirement or ultimately important, but you know…logistically, it seems to work.  Since I had infertility prior to my firstborn, I’m glad to have any kids at all, much less enough to fill our house room by room.  Praise God for that.  I never take that for granted.

I know in my heart that more than likely I just had my last child 6 weeks ago.

I know.

Still, for some reason when Lance talked about truly ensuring that it was our last, it makes me a little sad.  I’m not ready to clench the deal and schedule that appointment.  I’ve always said that when I’m old and gray, I never want to have not having more kids as a regret.  Earthly speaking, children are the greatest gift and I prize that more than convenience, finance, and how well our house accommodates our children per American social norms. Still, I know we have to stop somewhere.

It’s odd because for the first part of marriage, having children and becoming parents is a part of what you are doing.  It hit me as I heard my sister-in-law talk about a baby name she likes and as I drove by the ultrasound building  that delivered gender news to us three times that having children is something I’m no longer doing.

It’s a part of what we did.

What we’ve done.

It feels abrupt, even if that journey started 5 years ago.

It’s a peculiar feeling for me to see bottles and know I’ll never need to buy more of them.  It’s strange that I just bought the last pack of newborn diapers for my family a week ago.  You spend your whole life so engulfed in the marital stage of creating new life that you are distracted from it’s approaching end.  It sort of feels like it won’t ever end when you are going through it.

Though I’m a sentimental person, all the sentiment isn’t keeping me from enjoying the here and now.  I sincerely have loved the baby stage more and more each time.  I don’t tire of holding her, staring at her or of trying my hardest to get that first smile.  I thoroughly enjoy her.  Just today she cooed for the first time.  Ah, the first sounds that aren’t crying or grunting like a constipated billy goat.  Your heart swells with those little milestones.

Still, even in pure joy, I’m silently aware that each first is my last:  last first smile, last first laugh….

I don’t know what will ultimately happen with the size of our family.  After all, my mom only planned two of her four children.  31 years later I’m still walking proof that you never know for certain when you’ve had your last child.

Tonight as I nurse my baby while balancing a laptop on top of a Boppy, I’m not sure where I stand.  It’s probably somewhere between a punch to the face for mentioning the word vasectomy and acknowledging to myself being amidst the first of the lasts.

It’s a delicate waffling I’m doing now.  All I know for sure is that is exactly what I need to be doing.

I’m fine to sit right here.

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Photo Credit: Joel Ham Photography

www.joelhamphotography.com

Ode To The First Weeks Of Nursing

 

If breastfeeding was the most pleasurable, easy and painless experience for you then this post is not for you. If you have more than 50 ounces frozen in your freezer,  you should just listen to Iggy Azalea’s “Fancy” because it’s much more fitting.  Everyone else, welcome, friend.

 

Knife Knockers

The pleasant sensation of when anything touches your chest.  From a t-shirt to the breath of angels, everything feels like knives to your knockers.  That is why I thought of another invention:  Hooter Helmets.  This flows from other pregnancy inspired inventions such as the peepon:  a sort of tampon for pee to save you all the pregnancy trips to the bathroom. This was followed by pacifier tape to attach passies to newborns faces so they can keep them in their mouths.  That one has been tied up in safety trials.

Lakey Breaky Parts

Don’t tell my parts, my lakey breaky parts.  I just don’t think they’ll understand.  Cause if you tell my parts, my lakey breaky parts, it might flood up and kills this man.

Every night for two weeks I wake up with wet, sweaty sheets and hair that looks like I’ve been given a swirly.  The hormone shift between birth and milk makes my parts lakey.  It’s repulsive.  Every night.

The Hollywood Treatment

When you wake up on day 4 with implants you didn’t know you had done.  They are as fluffy as concrete and as comfortable as a cactus chair.

Lethal Latch In 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

The first few seconds of a latch that make you feel like you just got suited up to a Hoover that isn’t playing around.  When I get to heaven, one of my first questions shall be, “Why did you make these contraptions so sensitive knowing what they would be used for?  Couldn’t they have been like numb callouses?”  I am no one to question the good Lord Himself but it’s so weird to me.  It would be like thinking, “Hmmm, hands…. They will be used for lots of things.  I’ll make them weak and fragile with sensitivity to almost all surfaces. Yes, these shall be hands.”

The Brace and Peel

Yes, because nothing feels better to the chaffed most sensitive part of your body then to peel fabric off of them once they have stuck to your bra.

The Hopeful Pump

Pumping for what feels like days to turn it off and find an abundant one ounce mocking you from the bottle.  Dang you, ounce.  Dang you.

You’re Invited

Vein party.  My house.  10 o’clock.

The I Dare You

To your husband: I dare you to even so much as look at them right now.  Even from a safe distance….I dare you.

Oh NO You Didn’t

What you say to your baby when they let milk run out of their mouth or barf it back up on to you.  Listen, I made that and for real, trust me, it hurt me more than it hurt you applies here.  I know how the Pilgrims must have felt when their children spit out the corn they just shucked for 10 hours. I can always bring it back to the Pilgrims.  They are always there for me.

You Again?

When your baby has drained every last precious droplet from you and then 30 minutes later, acts like she has never eaten in her life.  What are you some sort of competitive eater?  Cause if you are, I can put you in one of those hot dog contests.

We’ll Always Have Africa

That moment where you understand tribes of women always being topless.  Convenience ladies….convenience.  I would love to see what those ladies would do if I showed up in their village with a nursing bra and nursing cover.  They would think I was as modest as a…..

come on?  As modest as a……?????

Exactly, pilgrim.  It always works.  Thanks for always being the answer.

 

Gonna Get My Push On

 

I am so excited in the storm of this week to know that we will have our third baby next week!  I love to go spontaneously into labor because to me, it’s like Christmas, only you don’t know when it’s going to start.  Maybe today is Christmas Eve?  Maybe Santa is waiting at your reproductive chambers with his sack of baby right now?  You can’t be sure.  He’ll never tell.

STILL, with everything that has crashed around us with my oldest’s new type 1 diabetes diagnosis, we needed a countdown.  Naturally, all of the focus, attention, and demand rightfully has had to be with our first child as we navigate this new normal.  This one week countdown has us refocused on having what is likely our last baby and we can get excited and plan as the days tick away.  It’s just what we all needed really.  Plus, what pregnant woman doesn’t like a nice solid light at the end of the tunnel?  It has its perks even if it won’t be like a uterine Christmas.

I really do love giving birth and I can’t wait to see what this experience will be like.  With my firstborn, it was long but a week early labor that was a fun surprise.  I had infertility so it was extra monumental to be in labor with a baby and I cried whenever something new would happen:

They brought in the little baby bed thingy for after her birth and I cried.  They laid the blanket on my chest for when I was pushing…I cried.  I was so excited and so moved.  Also, I had the whole waiting room with family and friends cheering for me.  Literally.  My labor room was the first one past the double doors and anytime they opened, my family and friends would yell things into the hallway.  My OB said she had never had that happen and that she was afraid to walk into the hallway for fear that they might hoist her up on their shoulders.

With my second, it was really fast in comparison and way more eventful.  I dry heaved, needed two epidurals, and had a student watch my birth.  Now THAT is an adventure…for both me and the student.  Obstetricians are professionals and deliver babies all day long but a first time student?  Oh yeah, I know you went home and told your friends about me cause honey, it was a new sort of day in nursing rounds for you. Its just like the first time you see The Miracle Of Life video in sex education.  No one is mature after that.  We all became fourth graders.

My favorite part was when we weren’t pushing and we were just waiting but nonetheless I was up in stirrups with my husband, the nurse, the mirror and the trusty old student just leaning up against the wall.  They were looking at me and even I was looking at me via the birth mirror.  Not much to talk about when you are just hanging out in that position.  It’s just you, your husband, staff, and your reproductives on display waiting for the big show.  Until the show, it just feels like you showed up to the party in the wrong outfit.  You are standing on the dance floor and the DJ is playing but no one else is dancing so you step awkwardly from side to side like the white girl you are.  (You…not me.  I’m only mildly a white girl. I would NEVER step side to side.)

Who knows what goodies this labor will have for me?  It’s like a painful circus that ends in a miracle.  I love it!  I’m just excited!

I was telling a friend the other day that the two words I keep thinking of when I think of Mendel coming next week is “silver lining”.  It’s because of her impending birth and what initially seems like the worst timing that I got Eden to the doctor right away and we caught her diabetes in the beginning.  One day I’m sure I’ll hear Mendel yell to Eden over a shirt she wanted to borrow that she owes it to her because she saved her life.

It was a hard week but she was the silver lining to the story in that God used her to protect Eden by being what spawned such a quick rush to the doctor.  It was a part of the story that made sense to me within a few days:  God’s timing is perfect and seeing that through this situation was the silver lining.

In another way, we all just need a little distraction and a little something else to get excited about that draws our attention.  The best thing we did over the past week when we could was do something normal!  Just get back to everyday life to feel normal in the middle of a chaotic week.  We are all so excited about a new baby coming and it’s the purest joy found in the midst of what was a hard spot for us all.  It’s a sweet joy outside of all us that we all need.

So, I just can’t wait for next week.  We have a lot to look forward to.  I can’t wait to laugh at the things that happen in labor and cry when I hold my third little girl.  I can’t wait to see the silver lining in flesh.  It feels like the reward at the end of the marathon only the marathon wasn’t the pregnancy this time ironically.  We anxiously await you Mendel Covington!  Awkward stirrups, freakishly perfect timing and all!

 

Growing A Monster Truck: 8 Months Pregnant


You know those moments when you thought you were all small and pregnant and then you look back at pictures and you think, “Ohhhhh, so that’s why those two girls stood in the frozen food aisle at Walmart and talked about my belly amongst themselves.”  When I look back at my last pregnancy at the end stages, I think, “Holy cow-child in my belly!”  I knew she was big and that I was really uncomfortable but because pregnancy happens so gradually, I didn’t realize just how big my belly got until I saw pictures later.  She was a big girl.  My belly and the girl herself.

This pregnancy, which to those of you who don’t know is my third pregnancy, I have been smaller.  I mean, I thought I was smaller and to be honest, I thought I was smaller the last time too so I was afraid to say it out loud.  Being huge and saying I felt small would be like one of those American Idol contestants who say that they sound like Mariah Carey and then sing like Roseanne.  I don’t want to be THAT elephant in the room by making a blind statement. However, then people started affirming it.

“You are so small for 30 weeks,” they said.

“Maybe this baby will be smaller,” they told me.

Then something happened.  I went to bed at 30 weeks and somewhere two weeks later I wandered into the bathroom mirror and stumbled upon an explosion of my uterus that could only come from a diabetic fetus with a Snickers habit.  (It’s her habit.  Not mine.)  I stopped being so small. What happened to this good thing we had going where my uterine girth numbers stayed low and I stayed free as a bird
who still occasionally slept on her back?  What mountainous child is coming forth from my loins?  Why can’t you be like a goldfish and only grow according to the size of your chambers?

Literally I went from the comments above to all of these in the past 7 days:

“Whoa, how many babies do you have in there?”, said the young lad who is my nephew.  I enjoyed this question and said, “15”.

 

“We are all making bets over there at our table that you won’t make it to June.” – a man

 

“What did you eat?!?”, said yet again….a man.

I said, “A four pound ham.”

“No, she’s a lot bigger than that!”

“She’s not supposed to be,” I said and walked off nervously.

 

“You look just like you are supposed to!”, said a woman.  Yay, a woman!  “What do you have 3 weeks left?’

“No, actually I have 8.”

“Oh.”  (awkward silence indicating that I am in fact as big as I thought I was pre-this stellar conversation)

 

My least favorite question right now is, “When are you due?” because it always ends in either socially awkward facial expressions or eyebrow raises. Listen, I can grow a gorilla and push it through a tiny portal so you better watch your bushy brows.

I digress.

I just can’t imagine what I would look like if I went to 40 weeks.  Thankfully, I never have and who in the heck wants to go a full 40?!  I mean, if it happens, it happens but talk about misery.  I feel like I will follow in my mom and sister’s footsteps with a 9 1/2 plus baby if I take this kid all the way to finish line.

All I can picture is her in my stomach doing this:

That’s one of my ovaries over that guys shoulders in the red jacket just cheering her on.  “She didn’t eat enough for lunch?  Eat that muscle tissue, hahahaha.”  I picture her like a gremlin just eating my body from the inside.  Being pregnant is like a parasite on crack mixed with Red Bull and topped with that gum that Violet eats in Willy Wonka that turns her into a massive blueberry.  “Violet!  You’re turning Violet, Violet!”  Don’t let my baby eat that dinner gum.

Growing humans is for real.

It’s not that people aren’t bigger bellied than me and it’s not that I’m 40 weeks huge, right guys?  (nervous laughter)  It’s that I can’t believe how much I’ve grown in 2 weeks!!  It’s pretty dramatic to me and to think I have anywhere from 6-8 weeks left to grow!

AND according to these pictures, my hair got 50 shades darker and all my make-up fell off so it’s all just downhill from here.

 

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Also 32 weeks this Easter Sunday.  Just look at the trajectory from back to front.

 

 

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Just 32 weeks.

It’s getting seriously serious.  Seriously.

(And yes, I awkwardly blurred someone out of this photo on the left.  No, I don’t have Photoshop.  Why do you ask?)

Follow my growth on Twitter with #sasquatchchild #bellyaintnobodygottimeforthat #betterwarntheladychambers #eeniemeenieminiemothisbabygonnahave30toes #biggiebiggiebiggiecan’tyousee #babygotacaseofthelbs #idonotlikeitinaboxidonotlikeitwithafox #growlikeyouroncrackbreakyourmommasback  #errdayishumpday #shecameinlikeawreckingball

Now…if only I really updated my Twitter we could really be on to something special here.

 

10 Great Things About a Pregnant Body As Told By a Pregnant Body

 

1.  It’s No Six Pack But I’ll Take It

I’ve never really had any stomach complaints but after two babies, I have to admit that I love the firmness of my stomach.  The older you get, the less firm you get and there is nothing like a big fat baby to firm up those tummies of all those moms who don’t like their stomachs.  Even girls who think their stomach is lumpy and dumpy get a smooth firm stomach for a few months.  Sure, we all look at our babies and think, “What on God’s green uterus is this going to look like when it goes back down?”, but a for few months, rock solid baby.  Rock solid.

2.  Mammaratory Departments

I guess how you feel about this politically correct title I’ve given this point depends on whether you were well endowed or not pre- baby.  Either way, it puts a perk your abundance or some umph  where there was no celebration before.  That’s about as polite as I can put it.  Go, mammories.  It’s your birthday.  We’re gonna party because you are plentiful because there will be a BIRTH day.

3.  Your Body Becomes a Celebrity

Everybody likes a big globular baby belly.  People want to touch it, look at it and say “Aw” as you check out at registers and walk in front of groups of people, eat lettuce, really any activity.  For one moment in time, for months at a time, people love to watch you grow and admire that there is a human on the other side of your bump.  All moms whether they are still reproducing or have retired from that job, remember the sweetness of pregnancy and that makes you and your body Beyonce popular for a wee bit.  If you like it than you shoulda’ put a hand on it.  That’s what I always like to say.  Enjoy your body celeb status.

4.  You Become Really Hairy

Basically my body becomes a big mustache for 9 months and I love it.

5.  Glow On, Gurlllll

I don’t know about you but I actually really like my skin pregnant.  There really is a pregnancy glow and it ain’t all about smilin’.  My skin seems smoother (maybe because it’s fatter)  and my skin tone evens out.  Bare Minerals called me to be a spokesperson but when I showed up with a mustache and sweatpants, they never called me back.

6.  Dumps Like A Truck

Pregnancy, in my opinion, gives you a nice curvy silhouette.  I may appreciate that because I’ve spent most of my life as a 2 by 4 until having babies helped me out.  I think a pregnant woman in any form is beautiful thing.  I know at 35 weeks you don’t feel that way but there is something so dang womanly about being pregnant and I think the curves are a beautiful thing.  I think in the 90’s we know he said it best:

Dumps like a truck, truck, truck

Thighs like what, what, what

Looks like a babys growing in my butt, butt, butt

Let me sing it again!

7.  Rapunzel 

If your mane was a thick as a lion before a baby, you maybe wanting to sell your hair to wig shops but for girls like me I’m like, “Look Ma, I have more than 5 hairs in my ponytail holder!”  I’ll admit that I hoped my hair would go a little Sasquatch than it does but for a while, I’ll take that extra body in my locks.  In the end it all of course falls out and I don’t look as good as Rapunzel did when she whacked all her hair off but for a time, it was magic.

9.  Nails For Days

For a few months, I get talons.  What more can you want than to be Rapunzel with long strapping  talons?  Probably not much more.

10.  Move Out of the Way, Pregnancy Coming Through

Okay, so this isn’t about your body literally but about what your body does to others.  People let you sit when there are limited seats and you even get pregnancy parking which I would argue is enough reason to keep getting pregnant.  You get foot rubs and back rubs from your husband, if you are lucky.  You can play the pregnant card all the live long day if you want but hey, it’s not taking advantage, you are for real pregnant and could use someone to hold your door or give you a Target gift card.  Hey, people may even throw you parties.  Behold the power of growing people.  You can park, you can nap, you can party, you can control the world with the power of your bulbous mass.  This will make it all worth it when your hair falls out and your belly turns to flubber and your mammories hit the floor.   Enjoy your fetus manufacturing.  You look good and people love you.  Amen.

State of the Wombion

Greetings from myself and my third womb inhabitant.  I am currently 23 weeks into human creation and I figured I would update you on the sitcom that has been the last 6 weeks of my pregnancy.  I usually write about personal things but not so much the daily things of what is going on with me on the regular side.  I don’t fancy blogs that are daily mundane play-by-plays but this isn’t mundane.  Humor and honesty seldom is.

Moving along after my justification for this post….

If you remember back to my post about barfing and Ikea, I figured out that following Monday in the doctor’s office that my random barfing and fatigue was due to having H Plyori.  It’s basically a stomach infection with a bacteria typically contracted via food and water that eats at your stomach lining.  It can make you barf.  Funny how some bacteria making acid and eating at your stomach lining can do that.  I enjoyed marked symptoms of that for three weeks until I figured out what was wrong with me and took….are you ready for this….80 prescription pills in 10 days to kill it.  My ob prescribed it but that is more antibiotics than a horse would take in three months to treat something.  I don’t know what I’m basing that on because I’m not up on horse medical news but it sounds like I could be on to something.  Either way, ding-dong, Pylori is dead.

After a week off from Pylori, I entered the realm of the norovirus aka stomach virus that felt a little like Satan in my stomach.  We all had it thus the blog last week, When A Man Gets Sick.  My gastrointestinal track has really been fueling my blog material as of late.

Then, I took a week off with that and topped off last week with a nice kidney stone.  This may remind you of the blog Can’t We Just Play Pass the Pig Instead which is a blog about the one and only other kidney stone I’ve had in my life from when I was 23 weeks pregnant with Salem.  To keep it consistent and bizarre, I was 22 weeks last week with this stone with Mendel.  Mendel’s kidney stone experience was much more pleasant and I believe I birthed my beloved stone all by myself in the comfort of my hall bath while toddler’s played at my feet.

Now that those things are all done, all things are basically at rest.  I’m starting to forget this is my 2nd glorious trimester of energy and smiles with all of this barfing and passing of things.  Still, I think it’s done. Reproductives crossed! The only thing I’m dealing with now is acid reflux that could kill an elephant.  I think I am going to have to start sleeping standing up because even on an incline, the acid comes out to play.  I tell it to get back in its house but apparently, nothing wants to stay in my stomach.

I had bad reflux with Eden and was actually having it come up and out of my mouth while pushing in labor.  I have the footage to prove it but I won’t accidentally post that video on Facebook like I did with Salem’s birth.  And yes, that was in a blog.

Every night when I’m struggling with acid rivers I think, “You better be born smaller than your last sister and be hairy as a wolverine as my reward.”  No pressure.  Eden had lots of hair and I had lots of acid.  Salem had barely any hair and I had barely any acid.  And although people will tell you that they had bald babies and big acid problems, there is actual scientific proof that the hormone that stimulates hair growth also contributes to acid reflux.  It’s in What To Expect.  When I wasn’t reading up on equine medicine, I read that.  It’s been true for me and as I’m saying currently to my growing baby now, I’m expecting big things.  Words like wooly mammoth, Sasquatch, and Cousin It better be my Ob’s first thought when she sees that baby crown.  I earned dread locks at birth.

Other than the reflux that is to be expected for many, I hope my stomach is bored now and I can just move on to continuing Braxton Hicks and constipation.  Those things I can be at peace with.  Please no more spewing and dispelling of fluids or rocks from my body.

I’m so thankful to be pregnant and I’m excited for this baby-o-mine but chill out GI tract.  You’ve had your time to shine.  Let me just go on in harmony to deliver my baby with long luxurious locks.

Now to close, please enjoy this low quality 2-3 week old in the mirror selfie of my belly which is what you do with your third child.  The first child had cute periodic photos of my growth taken with real cameras.  This one:  a cell phone with toddler finger covered screen shots in my bathroom mirror.  It’s the thought that counts, wolverine,….thought that counts.

 

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Funny Blogs On Pregnancy

 

I have over 700 posts on my blog but I combed through the years and pulled some of the funny ones pregnancy.  Who knows how many there are but I promise, I’ll be adding to it  this number this go round.  I just haven’t made it to the crazy, “If I don’t have this baby I’m gonna give myself a c-section with a butter knife” part.  It’s coming though.  Stand by.  Until then, enjoy the posts below!  Holler!

1. The Mom Butt’s Cousin

2. People Says The Darnedest Things When You’re Pregnant

3. Hammoth (Hamster Mammoth, obviously)

4.  When Facebook Gets Revenge

5.  They’re For Everyone

 

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