Posted by: mindyourknitting | November 20, 2010

Transition

You know what’s awesome about making grand pronouncements about re-dedicating yourself to something, like I did in this post, then totally not following through?  You get to feel like a double-douchebag since no one was holding you to anything before you made the grand pronouncement but you set up the expectation that you would deliver something anyway, and then dismally fail to do so.  Yay me!  So yeah, the whole “I’m going to be a little writer squirrel from now on” didn’t exactly work out that way this month, and my whole “I am woman, hear me blog” manifesto was a whole lot of sound and fury signifying nothing (sorry, Faulkner).    BUT, interestingly, I have noted that a number of bloggers I like to read are struggling with making regular posts too, and one in fact just unapologetically closed up  shop for the month of November.  So, to follow their lead, I have realized that if this is truly my space, then I can post whenever and whatever I want, and probably the only one applying pressure for regular posts is me.  So, guilt be gone!  

We’ve moved Abigail into her new room and into her “big girl bed” and it has unequivocally sucked for us.  She loves her room, and will sleep in her bed (she’s totally out of the crib now), but it takes FOREVER to get her to settle down at night, so our evenings have been eaten up with struggling with a stubborn two-year old who is simply delighted that she is able to get out of bed.  Over. And. Over.  The  battle we’re waging is to get her to settle down in the evenings given that she can hop out of bed, prance into the hallway and announce to the world “I’m not sleeping!”  Which she does, forty-two times over an hour or so.  But we’re working on that.

We’ve tried escorting her back to bed a bazillion times; sometimes one of us lies down with her until she falls asleep; and we’re contemplating putting a baby gate across her door, but she isn’t a fan of the idea and I’m not sure how much pitiful crying I can put up with when bedtime used to be so easy.  She would curl up in her crib and be out in a matter of minutes – it had been like that for months, so we are not used to the struggle anymore.  Some people have suggested closing her bedroom door, but I think this would give rise to a level of panic in her that seems unnecessary, especially since she likes her new room and I don’t want her to see bedtime as punishment, or worse, something to be afraid of.  So our nights have become a three-ring circus, and although we set bedtime at the same time as usual, Abigail has started falling asleep more than an hour later by the time she gives in and goes to sleep.  I really hope this changes soon, but I’ll take any suggestions for curbing the craziness since my patience is wearing thin.  And I know that this is partly a result of the big changes we have made to her routine, and that she must sense that bigger changes are a’ comin’, but it’s been a couple of weeks and mama’s patience is wearing thin.  Sometimes it’s lovely to curl up with her and wait for her to sleep, and other nights I just want to get stuff done and not be held hostage by my toddler.

And now, a baby update.  The peanut is good.  I know this because to date I’ve had six ultrasounds and several medical appointments and tests associated with this little critter, and while some have been extremely nerve-wracking we know that the kid is doing really well and everything from nuts to brain has formed and is working perfectly.  We had a super duper high-resolution ultrasound last Friday because there’s been some concern over an increase in amniotic fluid, which could have resulted from gestational diabetes.  I was diagnosed with GD a few weeks ago, although thankfully not with a severe case, and it is being controlled only through diet, no insulin necessary.  The diet is pretty bleak, and it seems pretty unfair that a pregnant lady can’t have dessert.  I’m just sayin’.  But the baby isn’t huge – another possible result of GD – a fact for which my pelvis is eternally grateful.

 Anyway, the ultrasound was to check on the baby since increased amniotic fluid can also signal fun things like a cleft palate and heart conditions and defective lungs.  The baby was fine, but it was especially nice to have to wait all weekend until I saw my family doctor the Monday after to review the results of the ultrasound and find out that the baby is okay  and the fluid is either because of the gestational diabetes or …. just because, and nothing to worry about.  We had to wait until I saw my own doctor to find this out because the craptastic ultrasound technician at a different hospital than we usually go to for ultrasounds said almost nothing during the long and tense scan, and at the end couldn’t manage a “baby looks good” and instead let us go home to worry for the weekend.  But first she consulted a doctor and came back to hand us a piece of paper telling us that we had to go to triage for monitoring of the baby’s movements because the baby was not “breathing.”  And of course we had no idea what that meant so we freaked out.   It turned out okay (a nurse gave me a sandwich and the baby started bopping around soon after, and apparently it was early to expect to see sustained “practice breathing” in a baby less than 32 weeks gestation), but to the ultrasound tech, a hearty screw you, sister.  Get a bedside manner – we’re not doctors, but we’re not idiots either.  We shouldn’t have had to ask more than one medical staff what was going on; YOU should have explained it to our satisfaction, or sent the invisible doctor over to do it.  Anyway, rant over.   In good news, there’s no sign of pre-term labour, which is an immense relief, although my doctor keeps saying things like “if you make it to 36 weeks we’ll do another ultrasound then.” Say what?

In other updates, I only have four weeks left of work, and then I get four whole weeks at home before my due date, huzzah!  I didn’t get any time at home before Abigail was born (at work on a Thursday; in the hospital by Friday at 3am).  My doctor’s advice that I cope with my preggo sausage feet by putting them up as often as possible was met with peals of laughter (mine), as I sit at a desk at a computer all day, and I seriously doubt that Abigail will stand patiently by (possibly fanning me with tiny palm fronds) once I’m at home with her all day waiting for the baby to come, but I have to hope that being home will afford me more opportunity to rest than I’m currently getting.

As you can tell, most of my updates are of the domestic/kid-centric variety – we’ve ordered boy-appropriate crib bedding (this, which is adorable in my opinion), are going to pick a paint colour for his room this weekend so it can be painted on Sunday, and I spent some time last weekend washing teeny tiny baby clothes.  It’s all becoming very real that we are going to have another child in the house fairly soon.  But (hopefully) before then we’ve got a multitude of holiday events – parties, cookie exchanges (shut up, I know I can’t eat them, damn GD), dinners, etc. – to keep us busy while we prepare for what is bound to be a very busy time after Christmas.  There are a lot of small changes happening in anticipation of our big change, but we are excited about what the new year will bring.  It will be a transition for our little family, but we can’t wait to welcome our son, Abigail’s little brother, into our home.

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Responses

  1. Hi Trista
    Lovely to hear what’s happening in your life, although I wish life would treat you a little more fairly!
    I always read and enjoy your blogs, (writing has never been my talent), but I can understand how difficult it is to find time to blog.
    Xxoo Aunt Jan

  2. We have gone through this almost every night for 3 years. Basically we have just resolved to the fact that there is a 3rd person up and around until 9:30 or 10pm most nights and schedule calmer activities for the later part of it when we’re exhausted.

    Is she tired the next day? If not maybe, sadly for you, she just doesn’t need as much sleep or its time to skip the day nap. Or she needs just a new volume of physical activity to just grind her down. Baby treadmill?

  3. […] time with her while getting things done in preparation for Peanut’s arrival.  (Remember this post, in which I actually used the word “huzzah” at the prospect of having time off?  […]


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