Tuesday, October 16th I had my 2 week visit with Dr. North. Everything went well, Reid’s heat rate was 143 bpm and I’m measuring 37 weeks which my doctor seemed happy about because he said at this point we just want her to get big. I have to remember though, he wants REID to get big not ME, so it’s not like I can have a free for all junk food fest. I did gain 5lbs over the last two weeks. I’m at 30lbs now and I’m still ok with sharing that publicly because I’m pretty sure I’d doubled that with Hill at this point. I think that extra fluid from stomach virus episode has packed back on. Yet, instead of it going back to my gut it seems to have come back in my face. I’m feeling a little face puff going on.
This pregnancy I’ve really not had any cravings, it’s been if you talk about it then it usually sounds good. Honestly I’ve dreaded eating time, not because I wasn’t hungry but the lack of good foods around the Land of Koz. I’ll let myself get to about 2:00 without lunch and still nothing sounding good since it’s either fried or fast food or I cook it myself and none of those options sound good or fun. Then I just have to go get something because I start feeling bad from starvation and the potential to blow away (yeah right.) I’ve been eating Subway more than normal. For some reason their tuna subs on fresh white squishy bread with pickles and mayo makes me really happy. I try to limit myself to one a week though because I think there are rules and regulations on tuna consumption and mercury or what not. I can’t keep up with the rules.
My biggest NEED (again) is cokes, but really only fountain cokes. I’m addicted. If you recall when I was pregnant with Hill I literally funded the reconstruction / remodel of our local Sonic. I think they may have a plaque on one of the stalls dedicated to Hill Hawkins. There is just something extremely special about the bubbly burn of that sweet scrumptious fountain coke. The first sip is always the best. Ahhh!
Ok, so let me get off of my floaty fizzy la la land cloud dream and try to refocus.
As my tummy grows larger some things are just getting harder. My legs are so freaking ashy because I just can’t muster up the energy or the momentum to rub lotion on them. Maybe because I can’t non-acrobatically get to them. Lord can only imagine how hairy my legs are - - and I still continue to wear dresses.
Same goes for my shoes. Today for example was a flip flop day. Go ahead and gasp, it’s after Labor Day and I’m wearing opened toed shoes…but not only that it’s flip flops and the mega shocker, I wore them to work. I triple dog dare you to say something to me about how uncouth that is. I’m a fashion police mess.
Need proof? The other night as my 2 year old said his “special prayer” segment of his nightly prayers he prayed for my hair to have a good day tomorrow. Ikes, when your 2 year old prays for your hair, you are a hot mess. Then last weekend he wanted me to come color with him, so I came in his room and he looked at me dressed in a tshirt and panties and said, Mama you gotta put on some pants to color. I’m not too sure whose heart to bless, mine or his.
Other than the big blah portion of pregnancy I have to admit that I will miss this being the last rodeo of my ever being pregnant again. Plus you get to play the pregnancy card. This can be used in emotional situations, looking like trash situations, I don’t feel like doing what you want me to situations, comedic situations, the whatever pregnant lady situations, and the list goes on. It’s great. Most people are nice to pregnant people….most.
For example: Before I was really really showing, but still looking pregnant I was shopping at WalMart and had to get a 40lb bag of dog food. I asked a guy if he could help me lift it into my shopping cart and you’d have thought I ruined his life. He did it, but he was awkwardly and obviously not happy about it. I thanked him then mentally kicked him in the knee and called him a punk.
Yet then you have the genuinely nice folks that don’t think twice about diving into a kind deed nor do they have to be asked. Same scenario; WalMart & dogfood but this time I had oodles of groceries too. I was checking out and hear the sweet voice of Mrs. Mary Tyler at the register next to me. “Hello, Rachel!” When I look over Mr. Toby is standing there with her. Toby is my most faithful blog fan. We exchanged salutations and next thing I know Toby has my shopping cart half way out the door pushing it to my car and is unloading it into my trunk. You have no idea how big of a help that was. My WalMart trips are usually a minimum of an hour long, as I go as infrequently as possible. Couple that with 9 months pregnant on my feet pushing a heavy cart around for an hour…not fun. Thanks Toby for helping a poor girl out! You surely made my day….and the blog!
Also, you become the comedic relief as the big pregnant lady. You must have a good sense of humor though some pregnant people could take offense to certain situations. After my doctor’s appointment yesterday I had to go to Bed Bath & Beyond. The cleaning lady unraveled the hose to my vacuum cleaner…I still can’t figure out how she did that. Anyway, her suggestion was to go to WalMart and get another hose. Little did she know (and I don’t mean to sound like a douche bag) but my vacuum cleaner costs $400. I can’t go to WalMart and buy a freaking hose. I think her world fell into a downward spiral with the unspiralling of the vacuum hose. She could not function to clean, it was quite hilarious and I thought she was going to just have to leave. I reminded her she had a broom and dustpan. Maybe that was unsympathetic of me, but she totally lost all sense of cleanliness without a functioning suction hose. I’ve digressed, guess you had to be there.
I walk into Bed Bath & Beyond and I didn’t know if I had a pig on my head or a booger on my face, but it seemed as though everyone just dropped everything and busted out laughing at the pregnant lady rolling in a vacuum cleaner. I’m sure it was a sight. It probably seemed as though I was ravenously nesting and cleaning my house and broke the Dyson. The customer service lady didn’t ask any questions just simply had me go get a new one. I’d expected to have them just replace the hose or whatever, but nope, go get yourself another $399 in the box vacuum cleaner little lady. So, props to BB&B and Dyson warranty for making this pregnant lady happy.
Then there are the people that just go ahead and appease the pregnant lady. That was my next stop at Belk department store. I had to go buy a wedding present. I found what I wanted to give the couple. Had the employee take me to it then noticed it was on sale (off $30.) Bonus for this tight wad! But it doesn’t stop there. I asked how it works when you buy a gift but they live in a different town. Can they ship it for me? He said, sure it will be $8 to ship. I thought for a second then said, is this sale online too? Yes, maam. Ok well why don’t I just go online and buy it and have it ship for free. Thanks for your time. I’m sure he was like cheap ass lady. I just totally pulled that out of my hat though – I didn’t know if they had free shipping or not. Most people do so I just assumed. Well my assumption was correct. Long story short, dude waived the shipping fee. Then as the cashier next to him was flipping through the Belk catalog I saw a coupon. I said, and I’ll need you to scan that 15% off coupon too, Thanks. So long story short, appease the pregnant lady and she will get $40 off her purchase and save $8 in shipping. I love a good haggle. When I lived in Ecuador, my host family would crack up at how much I didn’t spend on things at the market. It became a game. They would joke that even the locals couldn’t get as good of a deal as I did. Those were some of my prouder moments. Ha!
Then there are the don’t pass judgment moments of pregnancy. After I had a profitable morning I was hungry so I decided pasta would be good, Oh maybe my favorite bowtie pasta Caesar Salad. Maybe even some tiramisu from my favorite tiramisu joint in Jackson, Amerigos! So, I sat at a table for one with my gestating self. They plopped some homemade bread in my face and I ate every bit of it. They brought me my huge salad, I ate every morsel and then he brought me my ticket.
Ok, I was full and I’m sure the guy was like there is no way this lady can eat anymore - she’s made 2 happy plates from everything I’ve stuck in front of her. Then I guess he saw the look of sadness in my eye as he handed me my ticket. He said, “Oh, would you like dessert?” as he placed the check into my hand. I said, nah, I shouldn’t. After all maybe it was a sign. I was full but I really did just want a taste of the tiramisu in my mouth. I took the check. Buzz kill.
Then after he checked on the table next to me I stopped him and said, I do! I do want dessert! I asked if I could get a half an order of tiramisu and he said no you have to order the whole thing. So. I. Did. As he set it in front of me I looked up at him and let him know how this works. You see Trevor (that was his name), I’m going to eat this whole thing. The entire plate. I have no doubts. Please don’t pass judgment on me, I’m a good person. Trevor assured me all was well. And I did. I ate it all. I think Trevor may have expected me to lick the plate. I really feel like he and the whole kitchen and patrons watched me in amazement as I waddled out of there after demolishing a plate of bread, a big bowl of salad and the huge tiramisu. It was divine and I don’t care. Yum-o.
Continuing on to my next stop and the passing judgment / comic relief card. The liquor store. We’d bought a bottle of wine that had evidentially gone bad. They guy at Joe T’s usually has a pretty good list of things he likes that we do too. So we were extremely surprised to open a nasty vinegary tart wine that he’d recommended. Chip noticed the cork was odd so I decided to take it back and ask.
Side bar: Yes, I have an occasional glass of wine. No I don’t really feel like I need to explain it to you as I’m not a bad mother and No my child will not have fetal alcohol syndrome because it’s touched my lips while she was in utero. Now that that’s established…
I felt hilariously secure about walking in to the liquor toting a bottle of wine with my abnormally large belly and explaining how I didn’t think it was good. Joe T’s guy said, it was one of his favorites and as he tried to uncork it the cork broke in half and he assured me that it must have been a bad bottle and replaced it. That may have been a first for him, it was for me, but for some reason I bet I’m not the first pregnant person to walk into a liquor store. I may be the first pregnant non crack head to walk into the store and in my defense I did not buy Mad Dog 20/20, I promise. I’m responsible.
After these crazy events of random things that morning I went into the Madison office to see some folks. My boss was there and we had some things to discuss and it was good to see all the good people of Highland Colony. I work with some super fantastic people, I swear. I’m so lucky. It was Boss’s Day and I didn’t know it until after I’d left so I emailed my boss and told him oops, Happy Boss’s Day! He assured me that Hallmark made that day up and it was no biggie but he appreciated my appreciating him. He’s a keeper.
So on my way home I started thinking about my doctors’ appointment earlier that morning. I had asked about how exactly the tying of the tubes works, when he does it, how he does it, will I be awake, how much more pain will I be in, how much longer will I be down, etc. He went through the procedure and assured me that I’d have a normal c section recovery with no extra down time, but just to not rush it. I asked how long before I could drive and he said 6 weeks is the norm for c sections. I said, whoa Nellie, I certainly don’t remember it being that long last time. He chuckled and said I probably broke the rules, but it could be like 3-4 weeks of no driving before I feel better anyway. Oh my goodness. That’s horrific. I thought 2 weeks was the norm? Anyway, look out roads I’ll be hitting you sooner than later because I’ll be breaking the rules, seemingly again. If I waited the full 6 weeks that would be like putting me on the road a week before I go back to work. That’s terrible. I can’t be cooped up in my house for ALL the holiday season. So, if you are out and about looking at Christmas lights please swing by my house and pick me up. I’ll provide the wine......