T-36 hours till Johnston #4 makes his debut and we are ready to meet our little guy. I’m kind of in a Frankenstein state of slowing walking and moaning around the house. The 4 year olds have pretty much gone feral as they sense my weakness and have an amazing ability to drain all adult energy. I thought last week’s Snowmageddon, Clay’s man cold, and being home bound with hyper 4 year olds would surely bring about labor, but baby seems to be waiting patiently for his scheduled birthday. Maybe this one will have the gift of patience?
While I am extremely grateful to have made it to full term with a relatively easy pregnancy and no big complications, I’m kind of over carrying this wiggly little medicine ball on the inside. Here’s the stat comparison and breakdown between my 2 pregnancies. I can’t give actual numbers as that would be a clear HIPAA privacy violation and I always aim to follow rules.
8/21/09 – 21 weeks pregnant with triplets. We look pretty well rested, young and naive. This was the point we just thought our biggest obstacle would be lots of diapers.
2/10/14 – 38 weeks with Little Brother. Not looking quite as well rested or young. This is what 4 years have done to us. I think the iPhone clearly must add another 10 pounds of fluid to your face. (In my defense, this was taken first thing in the AM) Ugg, hopefully I have eyes and a better visualizations of my toes again soon. For the final D-Day record, my waist is 6 inches smaller than when I delivered at 32 weeks and I’m about 8-10 pounds lighter than delivery with the trio. Clay still proudly boasts his DILF shirt and I’m barely squeezed into the Hot Mamma shirt. I tried talking my docs into at least a few days of hospital rest and being waited on but no such luck. Not that I wanted a full 5 weeks of living on the plaza again, but I wouldn’t have minded a day or 2!
Since Ava keeps wanting pictures with her brother, and entertainment lacks from being hunkered down from Snowpacolypse ’14, I’ve resorted to some maternity selfies in the past week.
Harris finds the bump a nice resting spot and Ava loves any moment of
love toleration from Harris. Side note: that is Wyatt’s fist behind my head, my left hand is not that freakishly small and was taking the self photo.
Not exactly glamorous, even when giving duck lips in the mirror.
We still have toe visualization!
All right Little Guy, we’re ready for Wednesday morning (around 10AM) to finally meet you. Please no birthday surprises! My big concerns at the moment are:
1) intact esophagus – no reason for concern at this moment, but I will breathe a nice sigh of relief to know plumbing is intact from beginning to end. If not, I will likely need to be committed.
2) intact palate – I have grand plans for this one to be a hearty little nurser and not spend my hours hooked up to the whirring sounds of the breast pump. As Ava’s cleft palate repair was pretty much the only successful surgery we put our girls through that does not leave me with PTSD, this one is doable again, but I will be bummed.
3) the baby looks like a Seymour/Johnston – it’s an irrational worry I know, but with a frozen embryo transfer, there is a worry that they hold the baby up and it does not look like a possible genetic match up of Clay and me. At the moment of placement, I was on drugs, there were several people in the room and details get a little fuzzy. I’m just hoping they triple checked that the embryo name is Johnston, with a T.
Once I can cross of those big 3, I can move on to the thousands of other irrational worries new mothers have while adding additional worries of knowing too much, seeing too much in my NICU/PICU RN days, and of course living too much. While this has been a fairly easy physical pregnancy, growing another little person has been a pretty emotional journey this time around. Grief, hormones, exhaustion, and only 2 instead of 3 little energy zapping preschoolers have made the past 9 months a bit of a roller coaster waiting for our little “Rainbow Baby” to join our family.
A “Rainbow Baby” is the understanding that the beauty of a rainbow does not negate the ravages of the storm. When a rainbow appears, it doesn’t mean the storm never happened or that the family is not still dealing with its aftermath. What it means is that something beautiful and full of light has appeared in the midst of the darkness and clouds. Storm clouds may still hover, but the rainbow provides a counterbalance of color, energy and hope.
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