Saisquoi?

Happy Greek Easter!

We've been so busy. Three is busy.

Check it out:




Someone got a fancy dress. She wore it to church.




And egg hunting.




I'm not sure this dress has enough skirt. C thinks it is perfect and she was a pretty pink princess.

Now is when I switch things up and give you a hint of TMI. Sorry.

Four years ago, I had a positive pregnancy test the Saturday before Palm Sunday. And on Palm Sunday I started to bleed. It was a chemical pregnancy. It was so early, I hadn't told anyone other than my husband. It had taken us five years of trying to see those two lines, and then they were gone. It was devastating. For me, Easter didn't come that year. I never felt the joy. I never felt the Resurrection. It was like being stuck on Good Friday. Being stuck in the Passion narrative.

Because it was so early, I had a hard time feeling justified in my grief. I mean, it was so early. But, I did grieve. And, honestly, I still sort of do, which is silly, because we were able to get pregnant a few cycles later and that pregnancy gave us C. If that other pregnancy had gone through, I wouldn't have C, and I don't even want to imagine what my life would be like without her. Still, every year, Holy Week comes and I remember that other...that brief moment...and the grief that I felt and I hid and I never shared with anyone except my husband who maybe didn't understand but tried so hard to make me happy again.

This year on Good Friday I took a pregnancy test. I don't really know why...it was the day my period was slated to start but it hadn't. And there were two lines. The second one was faint, but it was there. And when I tested a few days later, it was still there. And I had a truly joyful Easter. A sort of resurrection. A partial healing, or at least a balm on some old wounds.

I know you're not supposed to announce a pregnancy so early. I'm five weeks. Things could go south. Or not. No one knows right now. And no one will know. But what I learned four years ago was that if I couldn't share my joys, I couldn't share my sorrows. I had to hold them all to myself. And it's hard--it's hard to do both. So, I share my joy with you today. In mid-December we should be a family of four. It's taken us two years of trying to get here. I had pretty much given up hope that it would happen. But this year we were granted an Easter Miracle. Something that has brought our family as much joy as that poofy pink dress brought my three year old on Easter morning.

So, my due date has come and gone. While I know that it's pretty normal for babies to ignore their due dates and come when they damned well please...and they frequently please to come late...it's really the one thing I wasn't prepared for.

Mostly because between my age and the gestational diabetes, the smart money had her coming early. Particularly if you add genetics into the picture--she's seriously the first baby in three generations of my family to go past-due.

I can't even tell you if she's thinking about coming out. I spent three hours at the Birth Center on Friday hooked up to monitors because my blood pressure has decided to spike. It turns out, though, that it's worse in the doctor's office than it is over, say, three hours of testing it every 15 minutes. Also, since my bloodwork is fine and the baby is fine, they decided to let her stay put for a little while longer. The other interesting thing I found out? While I was there, I was having contractions every 6-8 minutes. But since they didn't hurt, they sent me home. The other interesting thing? They haven't stopped. So, I've been having contractions every 6-10 minutes or so since then (yes, that would be going on three days now), but they aren't exceptionally painful. They get uncomfortable--particularly in the evenings--but I don't have to stop what I'm doing to focus on them. The Beloved is beside himself, because this is not what the video they showed us in childbirth class was like, so he really doesn't know what to do or expect. Poor guy.

The other thing I found out is that I now get to be on modified bed rest indefinitely. Meaning, until the little bugger decides to come out or is evicted. Tomorrow I have a doctor's appointment where hopefully they will tell me how long she's got to make up her mind to come out before they choose for her. I hate to say that I hope they don't make me wait until 42 weeks, but bedrest sucks. I don't want to watch TV, read, or knit. I'd like to go for a walk or clean the disaster that is my house. But these have been declared off-limits for the time being. Plus, The Beloved is still working, so it's me and daytime TV. Yuck.

So, what have I done with all of my free time? I've finished stuff! The Cobblestone Sweater is finally finished. I have no excuses for taking so long with this--grafting the underarms and weaving in the ends seriously took about 30-45 minutes. I finished it while The Beloved watched The Mission on Netflix. Then he put it on. I don't know if he'll let me photograph him in the sweater--he's goofy like that. But it's a very nice sweater. It wasn't difficult at all and it's not girly or anything. Now he wants something with cables. But he's going to have to wait.

I also finished the round baby blanket I started in October.



I'm pretty happy with how it turned out and I think it will be nice and warm and an appropriate size for covering The Tadpole when she's in her carseat or when we're out and about this winter (assuming she ever decides to, you know, be born). I knit until I had 650 stitches on the needles and then used a picot bindoff. The end result is pretty cute, but the edges tend to curl a bit and it seriously took me three days to bind off all the stitches. The blanket is done in Cascade 220 superwash paints. I can't remember the name of the colorway, but it's mostly pinks and yellows and oranges. It's definitely girly, but not pastel. The Tadpole has way more pastels than I intended--mostly because that's what there is for tiny babies, and particularly for baby girls. So I'm making a concerted effort to knit things in brighter and bolder colors.

She's got a purple bonnet made of Mission Falls 1824 Superwash Merino Wool--it's sooooo soft.



And a little kimono-sweater made from Colinette Cadenza. Instead of making ties, I'm going to sew snaps on it and add buttons.



I also finished off the Child's French Socks I started knitting for myself shortly before I found out I was pregnant.





Now I'm trying to decide what to do next. I've jumped on the Noro scarf bandwagon and have started one of those, but really intended for that to be hospital knitting. However, it may end up being done before the kid decides to come out. Right now, I'm trying to decide whether or not to start sock 2 of an unfinished pair, start another pair of socks, or knit something else for my stubborn child. I have enough Cascade 220 left from The Beloved's sweater to knit her a little tunic and probably a pair of longies. Not to mention the Malabrigo I bought intending to knit longies that's been out sitting in the car. But, as I said, I'm actually so out of sorts that I no longer feel like knitting. I had two false starts on a new pair of socks last night and ended up ripping both out because the yarn just wasn't speaking to me. I don't know whether to give it another go or throw in the towel...Perhaps I'll see if a nap improves my outlook at all.

Or Winter, anyhow.







I'd like to say, my husband is a saint. At 36 weeks pregnant, I'm not really able to help with snow removal. I tried the other day to shovel out around my car and it just made me have contractions, so we're all done with that right now...

We really are thinking about Christmas here, too...in spite of all the snow. I put up a tree:



Please forgive the crappy picture--we haven't had much natural light 'round these parts lately.

I'm home from work today because the plow left us a wall of snow and there was no way I was getting out. Hopefully a) I will not go into labor today and b) the Beloved will be able to get at least one of the cars dug out. Have I mentioned what a good guy he is?

Speaking of him, I've finally, finally finished the Cobblestone Sweater. Well, mostly. I need to graft under the arms and wash it. If I do that today, it might be dry so that I can wrap it and put it under the tree for him. No pictures, yet, but hopefully he'll let me take pictures when the sweater is complete and wearable.

I've also knit a bunch of small baby things. I've got a baby sweater that I've been meaning to finish for a good month and have been working consistently on a round blanket. But, I gotta tell you, being able to knock out a hat, or mittens, or socks in a couple of days is very satisfying.









I think my favorite is the coral-colored hat. The Tadpole will be required to wear hospital garb while we're at the hospital as part of their security protocol. But I can bring a hat for her, so I think I'm going to put that little one on her as soon as I can. She's also got a little hat made from leftover yarn from her coming home sweater, and so that will likely be a going home hat.

The Beloved is bemused with my knitting of teeny-tiny things. Today I plan to work on either the never-ending baby blanket or the unfinished kimono sweater. After I wrap gifts. And do laundry. The baby laundry is almost done--her clothes are clean and put away, sheets and towels are done, and I'm left with baby blankets and diapers to take care of. Of course, I should also make sure that the Beloved and I have clean clothes and linens as well. And perhaps do some more picking up before Christmas Eve when my in-laws are scheduled to come for a visit.

Fortunately, I appear to be nesting. I have to be careful about how much I do--I have moments when my energy level feels very high and I get a lot done, and then my back starts to hurt or I start having contractions. Oops. But there's so much left to do--our house looks like a bomb hit it and I'd like to be a little more squared away before the baby shows up....

We'll see what happens, I suppose.

Today was not a very good day. It's a Wednesday, which means it's a fasting, blood-draw day for me. Plus, I'm now up to appointments every two weeks, so it was lab work plus a visit with the midwife. Seriously--whoever thought it was a good idea to routinely perform fasting tests on pregnant women a) is probably a man and b) needs to have his head examined.

This morning, I was running late. I had to boil an egg and stop at the supermarket to pick up an English muffin and a bottle of water so that I could eat breakfast after the blood draw. (They draw, I eat, and then they draw again 2 hours later to check my sugars.) I got to the doctor's office at about 8:40 or 8:45, checked in with the receptionist and let her know that I needed to have my glucose levels checked and that I had an appointment with one of the midwives at 9:00. Then I sat down and waited. And waited. And waited. Generally, I don't wait longer than about 5 minutes. But it was pushing 15. I figured the lab was busy, and I didn't see the phlebotomist who usually does my blood draws. At 9:00, the nurse comes out to get me for my appointment and I freak out on her.

"But, the lab hasn't called me yet. I'm gestational diabetic and they need to test my sugars. I can't eat until they test me and they haven't called me yet. I need them to take the draw so I can eat breakfast. I haven't eaten in 12 hours and I'm not allowed to eat until they..." You get the picture. I'm listening to this come out of my mouth and it's like I can't stop it. Nor can I control the volume or timbre of my voice which is getting louder and shriller and beginning to shake as I start to cry.

So they took my blood. Blew out one of my veins in the process (that'll leave a mark), but got the fasting draw. And then let me eat in the examination room. Where I proceeded to find out I'd lost 3 pounds in the past two weeks, had sugar in my urine (this hasn't happened before and didn't really make me happy as it could indicate that diet and exercise are no longer cutting it) and then had to try to explain to the midwife why I was teary that morning. Which, naturally, I couldn't do without crying more.

My morning's performance won me a recommendation for Fish Oil supplements, Vitamin D supplements, and a trip to the counselor to make sure my depression isn't relapsing. Oh, and I feel like a complete asshole due to my inappropriate behavior. I was also advised to perhaps take the day off from work and take a nap instead--which I did. I hate using the sick time at this point because I'd much rather use it during my maternity leave, but I think I really needed the sleep.

In spite of everything, the Tadpole keeps on doing her thing. I might be losing weight, but my belly is growing and is apparently measuring "right on." She's busy and likes to kick and wiggle for me, and be perfectly calm and serene for her Daddy. Let's hope this continues after she comes out. Daddy can deal with her at 2:00 AM.

Right now, I'm at 30 weeks. Her due date is January 17, 2009. However, we know that babies show up when they darn well feel like it. So I propose a little contest:

Here are the ultrasound pictures of my wee one:



These are a little more detailed:





Oh, and in case you were wondering:



My favorite picture is the one where she's rubbing her face--she looks just like her Daddy when he's still sleepy.

The search for a name continues. My father has decided that he will call her Kapusta, regardless of what we decide to name her. The joys of Russian heritage.

We still have a few more months to think of something...

So, it's taken me getting pregnant to drop a pant size. How wrong is that?

Yesterday, I had my 20-week checkup and an ultrasound. The Beloved went, too. Seeing the Tadpole in action was so. Unbelievably. Cool. As far as everyone can tell from the pictures, the baby is perfect, and we are thrilled. Now we just need to come up with a name.

A couple of weeks ago I was officially diagnosed with gestational diabetes. And last week I met with a nutritionist. She is very confident that I'll be able to control my sugar levels with diet and exercise--and my diet and exercise habits actually require very few changes. So, that was reassuring. I was concerned that I've lost weight instead of gaining (I'm down about 10 pounds from my first prenatal appointment), but my midwife told me I could stop worrying. Tadpole is getting all of the correct things and since I came into pregnancy carrying a little extra weight, it's just being reallocated. Hence, the trip to the maternity store for Medium jeans as the Large ones try to fall off.

Anyway, now that I'm more reassured that everything's OK with my wee one, I think I might be ready to start some baby knitting. And I found my camera and battery, so I might even be able to take some pictures. Wild, eh?

Things are still proceeding as they should. Well, more or less. I'm in the process of removing all normal clothes from my closet and dresser as I keep having moments of insanity when I think they'll fit. Ha. I ordered what will likely be most of my maternity wardrobe earlier this week and need to pop down to the post office to pick it up today.

On Wednesday I had a doctor's appointment and it appears the Tadpole is doing better than me. I'm starting to feel little flutters and the occasional kick here and there. Not every day, but it's reassuring when I feel something going on down there that isn't gas.

I, on the other hand, have developed insane hip/lower back pain. I don't know if it's actually sciatica or if it's just something that falls under the pelvic girdle pain umbrella. All I know is that it's unpleasant. By the end of the day I have a very hard time walking or rising from a seated position. I also can't roll over in bed without waking up and swearing. It's fun stuff. Really. Yoga helps somewhat--particularly the Yin Yoga class I take on Saturday mornings which focuses on joints and connective tissue. My midwife suggested I incorporate more yoga into my day. I'm trying to figure out how I'm supposed to assume a yoga position long enough for it to help my hip/back in my cubicle at work. So, while in theory a good idea...not terribly practical for me. At least not right now.

I also failed my one-hour glucose test, which was cause for more swearing. After I get my "special diet" I need to call and schedule the three-hour. Ask me how thrilled I am. I'm seriously beginning to doubt the conventional wisdom that my body was designed for this.

I'm also awaiting results of my AFP test. Seriously, I will happily take the three-hour glucose test (fasting and all) and even gestational diabetes over bad results on that test.

This is not to say that I am not absolutely delighted to be pregnant. I am thankful every day--hip pain, inability to process sugar correctly, and all--for this baby, which I honestly didn't think would happen for the Beloved and I. But I am human--and I wish that at least part of this could be easy. Oh well.

The other problem I'm running into is an absolute inability to knit baby things. The burp cloth and baby hat lie unfinished on the knitting pile and I can't work on them. It's frustrating. Initially, I thought it was exhaustion. But that's mostly gone now, and I really want to knit. But baby things nearly bring on panic attacks. I start them and find myself exhausted almost immediately. It's almost as though I'm afraid of jinxing something. So, I'm not knitting baby things right now. Or spinning the fiber I bought which is intended to make baby things. I'm going to try and pull out the wheel this weekend and just spin...and I'm finishing up the Beloved's Cobblestone Sweater. Pictures if I can find the battery for my camera...

After that, I suppose I can go back to socks, and I've got yarn for a kimono style sweater that I should be able to wear even with my new figure that I may start knitting. After that, I'm out of ideas. Any thoughts on pregnant-lady knits?

So, today I went maternity shopping. I didn't buy very much, because my aunt recently dropped off a number of lightweight dresses without waists, which I hope will see me through the end of the summer. But the time has come that my regular clothes don't fit so well any more.

And I needed a body pillow because I've started having wicked hip/lower back pain.

Anyway. I went to the maternity store in the mall, as I needed to be fit for a maternity bra. The clerk asked my pre-pregancy size, so I told her. She measured my band size, and that hasn't changed. She measured my bust size and goes, "Oh, my!"

Well. That can't be good. And it wasn't. Apparently, I am measuring a 36F. Yeah. At 14 weeks. They didn't have any bras that large at the shop--I had to come home and order them online. At least if they don't fit, I can return them. But, holy cow. If this keeps up, I'm going to have a hard time getting out of bed or standing upright for long periods of time.