Yep. It's the middle of the night and I can't sleep-- again.
Poor Nick has been sick. Z is sick, too. G and I seem to have avoided the worst of it, though. But yeah, Nick has had an especially hard time, probably from being overworked the last two weeks. He stayed home from church yesterday to get some extra rest, and hopefully he'll be able to take a day off tomorrow, too, as he still seems to be getting over a fever. He told me yesterday morning, "Please, please don't go into labor until I'm over this." I'll do my best.
If it weren't for the illness, though, I'd be pretty eager to get going. The Braxton-Hicks contractions I've been having for the last few months have started making way for more intense prodromal labor, inlcuding the occasional contraction that feels so close to the real thing (radiating back pain, pelvic pressure) that I start to get a little excited. But then it goes away. Because my first labor was induced, and my second labor required a membrane rupture to really get going, I'm almost afraid I won't even recognize real labor this time when it starts. Maybe with any luck my first sign will be my water breaking-- that's a pretty obvious indication, I think. Only with Z, when the midwife ruptured my sac, it only took 3-4 hours and the baby was born! So if my water does break first, I'm going to have to pretty much book it to the hospital just in case this labor goes even faster.
Tonight at dinner, Z let out a little toot. I turned to him and said, "Did you toot?" He said, "Yeah. I can toot like this" And then he did it again-- on purpose! Great. My two-year-old can toot at will...Now all I have to do is get him to poop at will, on the potty...
G was playing in his room last night before bed and all of a sudden he came running out, screaming about a tiny fly trying to get him. We kept trying to calm him down, explaining that little flies don't hurt anybody. But he was not convinced. He would not go back into his room and instead hid under a blanket on the couch; of course, then Z imitated his big brother and it almost turned into a game, hiding from the baby fruit fly...Eventually, G got up his courage to try going back into his room, only to freak out again when he said the fly was poking his foot. We thought it was probably something in the carpet, so Nick came along with the vacuum and "vacummed up the fly." Then, I took G aside and had a discussion with him again, now that he was a little more calm. I encouraged him to use his imagination to make the situation less scary. I made up a story for him, telling him that the fly was probably just lost and ended up in our apartment when where he really wanted to go was the unit upstairs to visit him mommy and daddy. That elicited a laugh. Then I told G I thought we should probably let the fly out of the vacuum and open the front door so he could go upstairs. It took a good deal of prompting to get him to actually open the front door-- I think he was still a little scared. But he did it, and I "coaxed" the "fly" out of the vacuum hose so he could go out and visit his mommy and daddy.
Later that night I was reading books to the boys in their room, and I did actually see the fruit fly fly across the book I was reading a few times. Fortunately, G didn't seem to notice and I didn't say anything. At least I know he's not hallucinating, though.
I'm at the point in my pregnancy now, that whenever I pass someone in the hall at church their eyes seem to go directly to my belly. And if anyone says anything to me, there's a 95% chance (at least) that their first words to me will be either "how are you feeling?" (polite and considerate, albeit a little annoying when I've heard the same thing about ten times already), or "when is that baby going to be here?" (to which I answer, "I don't know." I mean really, I don't know. So what's the point in asking?). Also, being asked over and over-- sometimes by the same people every week-- "When are you due again?" and "It's a girl, right? Or is it a boy? Or do you know?" Okay, I understand that it's hard to remember everything you hear. But if you're going to go to the trouble of asking me about my personal life (and yes, my pregnancy is personal) at least you could go to a little more effort to actually remember the gender of my baby the first time I tell you.
Can you tell these pregnancy hormones are making me a little more irritable than normal? Only a little, though :P
Ugh, baby's pushing on my stomach right now and giving me heartburn...Drop, baby! Drop!
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