As Yet Untitled

Miss me? I'm not sure if I have missed my blog or not lately. So much on my mind, yet I haven't really felt like writing about it. Now and then I will think of tiny things I want to mention, but the big stuff tends to stay inside.

I have two modes (and maybe everyone else does, too) when I have too much going on: either I pull away completely from everyone (as I seem to be doing at the moment) or I erupt and pieces of my thoughts explode all over anyone in sight. I tended to do this more when I was younger. I've tried journal writing, but find that often I just can't stomach reading what I had written. It doesn't help matters that, in addition to being introspective, I have become busy all the time. I know that is just a part of life and that it happens to everyone and there really is no slowing down, but I find it is so much easier to pull away from everyone that I knew, people that I don't see or talk to every day or every week -- or even every year, and let those friendships just fall to the side, as that is what seems to happen in life. Constant contact is no longer possible, so the alternative seems to be no contact at all. Such is life, I guess. And maybe the falling away of external friendships, of people who have moved away and moved on causes us to draw closer still to those people that we see every day -- spouses, children. Maybe that is the way that life is supposed to go. I don't know exactly; I have never been 33 before.

I'm still tired. Maybe that too is just a condition of adult life, the feeling that I can't quite get enough sleep but I function nonetheless because there is no alternative. I love my toddler -- I do, but from day one (and that is not an exaggeration), he has not been a sleeper. He will fight bed time and nap time with every ounce of energy he possesses and I wish I could impart to him the grown-up wisdom that "sleep is good." Sleep is valuable and restorative, but that wisdom is lost on his two-year-old psyche. It is a rainy day, a Saturday, perfect for sleeping in, but I was awaken before 5:30 am. Mostly I don't mind because I am used to the routine, but I haven't been sleeping well lately and it is throwing my game completely off. I can't shake the tired feeling. Part of that has been the joy that occurred over two weeks ago now. Jude and I were getting ready for the day on a Friday morning and I was eating breakfast. I bit down and broke a tooth (which is what I get for trying to eat breakfast, I guess). A trip to my dentist confirmed that I had a break and would need a crown. Not a big deal, I thought. Something easy to take care of. Of course, nothing is easy when you're pregnant, and there was a great deal of discussion between my dentist and my OB before any work could be done. What began as a "simple" procedure took a turn for the complex when I was informed that I would need a root canal. How wonderful! It literally took hours and I was sent home numb wondering exactly what was so terrible about a root canal. Then, of course, the numbness wore off and I stopped wondering. Pregnancy means no pain medication, though I could take Tylenol. No offense to Tylenol, but that has been a bit like cleaning up a nuclear spill with paper towels. After the root canal, I was allowed the glory of suffering the after-effects for a whole week before going back for a temporary crown. Much of that dentist visit consisted of undoing everything that had been done for the root canal. And, I had the joy of having the local anesthetic wear off halfway through the procedure -- while having my tooth drilled. I must say, that stung a bit. Nothing that a few more needles to the gum didn't seem to solve at all. It has been a week since I was fitted with the temporary crown and I still can't use the whole left side of my mouth. Maybe that is normal. Maybe not. All I know is that I am happily into my second trimester, a time of looking good, of feeling good, and I can't enjoy it at all. The tooth hurts pretty much all the time. I do know that I am not at all apprehensive about undergoing another c-section. I figure having my stomach muscles cut open will be nothing compared to the last couple of weeks.

Baby-wise, we will find out the gender on Tuesday. As I mentioned, I want to know. I think all pregnant women tend to worry about their babies, but I have somehow elevated worry to an art form. Jude turned out healthy and happy, a perfect little person (even if he does have a toddler's personality!) and I don't want to tempt fate, don't want to worry that such perfection can't happen twice. But then, I try to push such thoughts from my mind. Summer is here: my favorite time, though, because of strange pregnancy hormones, I can't sit in the sun for more than a few moments without getting a sunburn. It is strange and ridiculous, as most of what occurs during pregnancy is. The sun is shining (or at least it will be tomorrow).

100% Baby-Centric Post

Well, I made it: I am officially through my first trimester. I guess it goes by much more quickly when you spend the first few weeks unsure that you're even pregnant. I am already 14 weeks along. I was warned that I would "show" much earlier than this time. That is a gentle way of saying "Hey, don't get too comfortable in your regular clothes, fatty." I had to haul out my maternity clothes a couple of weeks ago. Other than a waistline that grows by the minute, the only lingering negative aspect of pregnancy is tiredness, which I cannot seem to shake. But, according to the doctor, all my bloodwork is good, my thyroid is under control and everything is right on schedule so I needn't worry. More bloodwork in two weeks and then an ultrasound two weeks after that, so we'll be able to determine the sex of Baby X. It bothers me not to know. I haven't had a clear sense at all of boy or girl, but people around me have been making their preferences known, which, I have to admit, annoys me just a bit because I have no control over the baby's gender. It is silly and irrational of me, but I feel like I am going to let someone down if I don't have a boy (for those who want a boy) or a girl (for those who want a girl). Mostly I am happy that I don't have to decide because I absolutely could not. But, I really want to know, want to be able to use the names we have chosen, rather than "the baby" all the time. Early pregnancy is a strange time, too, because I can feel movement, but I know no one else will be able to feel the kicking for several weeks. When I was pregnant with Jude, he was situated in such a way that Jeff was only able to feel his kicks once or twice. He was right-side-up (and never turned) and mostly facing inward. I have a feeling he would never have chosen to be born. He seemed quite comfy right where he was. I have already decided to have another caesarian; at least that way I know exactly what to expect.