Chocolate Chips 'n Sprinkles

Okay, so I knew it had been a while since I’d blogged anything, but didn’t realize just how long until I saw my blog on a friends’ site and the words “two weeks” next to our old post. Where does the time go? Here are a few pictures of what we’ve been up to - the spanish fork light parade, dress-ups on thanksgiving with cousins in town, and the dinosaur museum... it's been a really fun couple of weeks, actually!

Now, on to what’s really on my mind these days. People these days often ask me the same question, no matter when we last talked or how long they've known me.

"So, how's the pregnancy coming?"

You’ll notice on the pregnancy calendar to the left we’re now down to fewer than 10 days to our due date with baby #4, who shall remain nameless - here and probably for his first couple of days in the hospital. I’m still thinking. Odds are good we’ll see all remaining days until the due date, too, and so optimistic of that am I that I actually scheduled dentist appointments today for the entire family two days before the blessed event is supposed to take place. Wish us luck! However, I've written all but nothing about it so far on this blog, so here's a little update.

It’s really been an interesting pregnancy – for those out there who are NOT interested in this topic, or who scream “TMI!” at the mere hint of bodily functions you should probably move on at this point. But I can hardly believe the differences between carrying this little boy and carrying my first. First, the obvious similarities:

1. They’re both boys.
2. The majority of each pregnancy was carried out in Utah – same climate.

In fact, we’ve noted that our boys will be Utah babies, where our girls are Missouri babies. So, maybe if you haven’t had luck yet getting the variety you hope for, maybe a quick trip out of state at least for conception is the answer. It can’t hurt, and you get a vacation out of it from the rest of the brood. ;-) Because of this pattern, I assume should we decide to try for a #5 it will be another girl, and it’s nice to know that upfront.

Now let’s discuss differences.

When I discovered I was expecting for the first time and announced it to Justin, I had been holding the pregnancy test for weeks just waiting for the earliest date possible to test. I knew just what day and what time of day I could check on, and had read the instructions to the test a few times just to make sure I had it all right. We went on to plan every little detail of how we would tell people and when. The dinner was formal, in our home, and we invited both our sets of parents to tell them all at the same time. I’ll never forget the look on my dad’s face – I mean, we’d only been married a few months at this point, but I think being the first married, and oldest daughter, it somehow threw him for a loop or something. Maybe I’m wrong and misinterpreted his expression, but I didn’t have much time to study it out as my mom was beyond overjoyed and quickly made up for any hint of reservation from him. I was dumbfounded when I called the doctor’s office to schedule my first appointment and was told I wouldn’t be seen until week 10 or so, and everything was completely new and often unexpected. Determined to become an expert on pregnancy, so as not be too surprised, I spent hours scouring the internet over every new symptom, ache or pain, and subscribed to a weekly email that was supposed to update me on just what was happening inside me and when. I researched heartburn, knew more about the safest over the counter medications than some doctors, understood labor and delivery options, proper nutrition and weight gain, and could have told you on any day of the week exactly how many weeks AND DAYS we were along. I knew all my stats – my weight, most recent blood pressure, date of last period, and had a good guess on the date of conception. I had “friends” on message boards and ran by them all my 25 or so favorite names.

On top of all this excitement, however, physically I was completely MISERABLE. It’s a good thing I didn’t realize that until after the fact. I hurt all over, started BH contractions WAY early, dealt with sciatic nerve pain that was nothing short of disabling, had tons of weight gain and quickly contracted a horrible coughing cold that lasted almost the entire nine months, eventually coughing up little bits of blood because my esophagus was so raw. I lived on Sudafed, Tylenol and Tums along with my prenatal, and took so many I listed them on my hospital registration as regular medications. Every night after we’d prayed together, I’d spend five to ten minutes situating my four or five pillows to be perfectly partially reclined so I could minimize coughing, then add a pillow under one hip so I wouldn’t block junior’s circulation and throw in another couple between my knees and behind my back. By this time of course I was completely winded, not quite comfortable, and often lodging cough drops for the night between my back teeth and the inside of my cheek. I have the cavities to prove it. On more than one night I cried myself to sleep knowing the worst part of my day was just starting – staring at the ceiling for hours and sleeping in short increments between potty breaks (after which the “settling back into bed” process had to take place all over again). I was exhausted, usually in pain and always feeling sick. And I thought it was normal. I remember being in the hospital after delivery and my mom mentioning she’d been by my house to clean for me – I wanted to cry all over again (probably partly those post-pregnancy hormones in action by then) because I was so grateful someone had cleaned, but thinking about bending over to reach the far side of the bathtub and the movement then involved with scrubbing had been just too much – and probably had been too much for three months or so. It was pretty gross. My feet and ankles were swollen to be all but unrecognizable, and partway through I had unexplained bleeding and did a little partial bedrest time. Then to add insult to injury, I couldn’t sit comfortably for 6 months after delivery. I have this vivid memory of kneeling on the floor next to my hospital bed in the recovery room and just sobbing because I couldn’t climb back into bed because of the pain I felt, and having the nurse just look at me from the doorway and say “Well, you’re going to have to get back in bed sometime.” And she walked off and left me there alone. Seriously.

I know that’s not the worst story out there, I have friends who suffer pregnancies like this one and often much worse, but do it every time. I’m amazed at them and the love they have for the children they bear because they really go through a lot for each one of them. And I’m not looking at this point for sympathy, either. I’m incredibly grateful for each pregnancy and the healthy child produced, and feel we’ve been richly blessed – I just have to record all that ickiness because I’m so shocked at the enormous differences between my first and my fourth, and so for the sake of compare and contrast here we go again.

When we found out we were expecting this time, it was only because I realized one afternoon it had been a while since my last period, and I started watching for it. A few more days passed before I thought I should probably actually look at a calendar, but even then it was just to see how close I was – no idea I had actually gone almost three weeks past. At that point I brought Justin into the livingroom and we discussed my surprise and my fears. A couple of weeks later (just for good measure) I bought a pregnancy test and got the positive result – surprise! I worried a lot about telling people this time, because 7 years after our first positive test result I’m still battling the lbs accumulated by that pregnancy and those of his two younger sisters, and was insanely worried about my health and that of the baby. We didn’t tell anyone for a while, mostly because we were trying to figure out how. I mentioned shopping one afternoon with family that I “might” be expecting and got “well, your dad’s not going to be happy about that.” Understandably so (although maybe a little harsh - hey, we were all surprised, right?), but it was a few weeks later before I brought it up again.

However although the initial reponses from us and from family were a little different from the first pregnancy, the rest has been just as different, too! This time there was no research involved, no date counting, etc. I didn’t even call the doctor until I was over ten weeks, mostly because I forgot, and during the summer months we were in Saint Louis went completely checkup-free without a moment of anxiety over it. The other wonderful thing about a fourth pregnancy is as soon as we found out just why I was so tired all the time, I ran to the drugstore with a shopping list for everything I might possibly need over the course of the next nine months based on everything I may have needed for one or more past pregnancies/deliveries.

And you know, after that kind of rough start and the trip to Walgreens I all but forgot I was pregnant for 8 months! Sure, some of the old familiar aches and pains were there, but they weren’t nearly so horrible as before and I knew more or less when they’d start and just what to do take care of them. I was a little sick in the beginning, I’ve been a little sore at the end, but I could honestly tell the doctor every time I see him that I feel too good to be having a baby so soon!

Hopefully my luck continues, but even when he tells me the baby’s still high I’m a little grateful because it means a few more days of mostly pain-free mobility. My house is clean, my Christmas is shopped for, my kids are even clothed and fed most days. Sure, this sense of calm has it’s downsides – I finally decided today on a hospital for delivery, and we still have no names for the child. It’s been almost difficult to wrap my brain around how close to having four kids we are, and as opposed to knowing exactly how far along we are I have a terrible time just remembering my due date when people ask. But it’s all good. Most of all I look back at the first one and I’m amazed at the difference. It’s probably good I didn’t realize how miserable I was, or that it wasn’t a normal experience or I would have really driven people crazy with my moaning and complaining, but I’m certainly grateful for subsequently easier pregnancies! Hopefully my luck continues with a simple, quick delivery, a healthy baby and a speedy recovery, but at this point I have no reason to believe it will be otherwise. Keep us in your prayers, and we’ll let you know when Finlinson #4 arrives!

Oh, you mean you wanted the short answer? :-)