I thought I'd emerge from this pregnancy unscathed, cold-wise, but Trent brought one home with him last week and I picked it up from him. Hence, several days of severe congestion, nose-blowing (we should buy stock in Kleenex) and general yuckiness. Now I'm in the "hacking so hard I might bring up a lung" phase.
There's an added aspect of advanced pregnancy when it comes to coughing during a cold. The abdominal muscles are already under some strain; my dad explained it by telling me to picture a paper towel tube with a hole cut out of one side to illustrate what happens with pregnancy. The growing uterus pushes abdominal muscles to the sides that usually run the full width of the abdomen.
Now imagine coughing like that. Fun, eh? I usually end up holding my stomach at some point in the process just because it aches more than coughing usually does.
-On a brighter note, I have an end date in sight! The c-section is scheduled for 8 a.m. on November 6th, so I know that by noon on that day (assuming I don't go into labor or something before then) Trent & I will have our daughter in hand. YAY!!!!!!!!!
I can handle thinking of 48 days a whole heckuva lot easier than the ambiguity of sometime in early November. It's part of being a concrete-sequential sort of person. : )
September 19, 2008
September 04, 2008
Uncivil Impatience
I have a tremendous dearth of patience when I want something.
Right now my impatience is with the government--specifically, the U.S. Postal Service. I ordered two DVD series by Ken Burns (The Civil War, and his most recent about WWII) last week Thursday. Amazon told me they thought I'd have the two series by September 3.
They're still not here.
-As of last night, I couldn't even get updated tracking information about the package. All I knew was that the supplier had shipped them from Indiana on August 29th.
The last two days, I have waited with baited breath for the mailman, feeling the eager anticipation of, "Maybe today..." only to have the morning pass and 3rd party fliers occupy the space in my mailbox.
I read through Doris Goodwin Kearns' phenomenal book about Abraham Lincoln, Team of Rivals, and my brain has been cogitating on Civil War data... humming "Ashoken Farewell," the violin solo piece that is the theme of Burns' Civil War documentary... checking other Civil War books out from the library...
As if I didn't know already: I'm a geek.
I hope they come tomorrow. It'd be nice to have something to watch while I fold laundry. : )
Right now my impatience is with the government--specifically, the U.S. Postal Service. I ordered two DVD series by Ken Burns (The Civil War, and his most recent about WWII) last week Thursday. Amazon told me they thought I'd have the two series by September 3.
They're still not here.
-As of last night, I couldn't even get updated tracking information about the package. All I knew was that the supplier had shipped them from Indiana on August 29th.
The last two days, I have waited with baited breath for the mailman, feeling the eager anticipation of, "Maybe today..." only to have the morning pass and 3rd party fliers occupy the space in my mailbox.
As if I didn't know already: I'm a geek.
I hope they come tomorrow. It'd be nice to have something to watch while I fold laundry. : )
September 01, 2008
Overheard
Conversation between Nathan and Grandma, in Grandma's sun room:
"I really like the sparkles, don't you, Nathan?"
"It's a SPARKLY!"
"That's right! -Actually, it's a Swarovski crystal. Can you say 'Swarovski'?"
"Yeah."
Not quite 3, and he already knows how to punt.
"I really like the sparkles, don't you, Nathan?"
"It's a SPARKLY!"
"That's right! -Actually, it's a Swarovski crystal. Can you say 'Swarovski'?"
"Yeah."
Not quite 3, and he already knows how to punt.
Breathe
Right now it is beyond my ability to obey the lyrics of Faith Hill's song, "Breathe".
There's something about a small child shoving all internal organs out of the way that kinda' hampers any and all other body systems from functioning normally. I know my gallbladder is crammed up into my rib cage with my lungs, so who knows where my poor diaphragm is these days.
I remember dissecting frogs in 8th grade science lab. My group happened to have a male frog, but other groups had females. At least a couple of those female frogs were pregnant--ovaries extremely pronounced, abdominal cavities packed full of eggs, all other organs crammed into any available space... It made it difficult to find, let alone identify, which formaldehyde-soaked bit was a stomach, which were kidneys, etc. There are days of late that have me feeling like one of those pregnant frogs--without the formaldehyde, I hasten to add.
Abdominal discomfort sliding into pain is pretty standard these days. The uncertainty comes in trying to pin down the what or why of the discomfort. Have I not eaten recently enough? Did I not eat enough? Did I eat the wrong thing? (Greasy foods are guaranteed to make the next day a miserable one.) Did I eat too much? Am I lacking sleep? (This answer is almost always "yes".) Would a different position of sitting/standing/lying down help at all? (This answer is often "no".)
There is a picture I have of me holding Nathan in my hospital room within a day after he was born. Just looking at the picture conjures up the detailed memories: the soft weight of him draped against my shoulder, the heart-full knowledge of being able to cradle my son as closely as I wanted to after nine months of being kept at a distance, and the expression on my face... I can't think of a way to describe it except as feeling like I finally came home. All of me, every cell and fiber, was fully present in that moment, not wanting to be anywhere but where I was.
I know that there are future moments like that ahead of me with our baby girl; I know that the nine months' discomfort fades into acceptable memory.
It's just the present that's hard.
The last trimester of pregnancy is one of those times of life when most (if not all) women will fail to feel attractive--enough so that being complimented on how cute I look causes me to look closely at the person to see if they're in possession of their mental faculties. Elephants are not "cute". Whales ought never be described as "cute". I consider it a measure of my parents' training that I'm usually able to stretch a smile on my lips and bite my tongue from saying strongly negative things about the complimenter's eyesight. Despite being pregnant, I have retained my civility--most of the time. : )
There's something about a small child shoving all internal organs out of the way that kinda' hampers any and all other body systems from functioning normally. I know my gallbladder is crammed up into my rib cage with my lungs, so who knows where my poor diaphragm is these days.
I remember dissecting frogs in 8th grade science lab. My group happened to have a male frog, but other groups had females. At least a couple of those female frogs were pregnant--ovaries extremely pronounced, abdominal cavities packed full of eggs, all other organs crammed into any available space... It made it difficult to find, let alone identify, which formaldehyde-soaked bit was a stomach, which were kidneys, etc. There are days of late that have me feeling like one of those pregnant frogs--without the formaldehyde, I hasten to add.
Abdominal discomfort sliding into pain is pretty standard these days. The uncertainty comes in trying to pin down the what or why of the discomfort. Have I not eaten recently enough? Did I not eat enough? Did I eat the wrong thing? (Greasy foods are guaranteed to make the next day a miserable one.) Did I eat too much? Am I lacking sleep? (This answer is almost always "yes".) Would a different position of sitting/standing/lying down help at all? (This answer is often "no".)
There is a picture I have of me holding Nathan in my hospital room within a day after he was born. Just looking at the picture conjures up the detailed memories: the soft weight of him draped against my shoulder, the heart-full knowledge of being able to cradle my son as closely as I wanted to after nine months of being kept at a distance, and the expression on my face... I can't think of a way to describe it except as feeling like I finally came home. All of me, every cell and fiber, was fully present in that moment, not wanting to be anywhere but where I was.
I know that there are future moments like that ahead of me with our baby girl; I know that the nine months' discomfort fades into acceptable memory.
It's just the present that's hard.
The last trimester of pregnancy is one of those times of life when most (if not all) women will fail to feel attractive--enough so that being complimented on how cute I look causes me to look closely at the person to see if they're in possession of their mental faculties. Elephants are not "cute". Whales ought never be described as "cute". I consider it a measure of my parents' training that I'm usually able to stretch a smile on my lips and bite my tongue from saying strongly negative things about the complimenter's eyesight. Despite being pregnant, I have retained my civility--most of the time. : )
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