End of biking - week 27?

I think I might be about done biking. Perhaps I’ll fit in another trip or two, so I can feel I made it into the third trimester. I could probably still handle it physically (though not easily) and would give it a go on a warm, sunny day.

But it’s been in the 50s upon waking the past few days. I’m not interested in bundling up and then navigating the roads as an extra roly-poly cyclist. I also get a bit more sleep when I take the train instead, which is an attractive benefit at this point.

Despite the brand new bike mirror I had installed last week, which I’m very excited about, I think the bike is likely to sit in the garage for the remainder of the next six months or so. See you on the other side.

Preparing for number two

I admit I’m hostage to my hormones these days. This weekend, I pulled over and handed the keys to Mark because I was about to burst into tears while driving over a disagreement about whether to go first to the apple farm or the office supply store.

Probably part of this hormonal onslaught is a great feeling of sentimentality that River has less than three months left as the only child. I want to spend more time with him, to create memories with him, to enjoy his presence while I can be fully involved in his almost-three-year old mind.

Today I made a list of special things to try to do with him over the next few months – zoos, museums, special events. This weekend it will probably be a family outing on a pirate ship. I’m already thinking about his third birthday, which comes just a few weeks before my due date. It’s the first birthday he’s actively looking forward to, and his last as an only child. So I want him to love it. Any ideas?

I put making his baby book (or book of the first three years) on my task list and asked Mark to put making a video of his first three years on his list. Deadline – before I go into labor.

I think I’m not officially in the third trimester until tomorrow, but I’m certainly feeling and acting like it.

For those with more than one child, what do you wish you’d done before your second was born? Anything you did that really wasn’t worth it?

Acceptance

It’s been a rough week or two. Difficulty sleeping, leg cramps, fatigue, feeling large and clumsy. When I treated myself to a foot massage yesterday, the masseuse pointed out the swelling in my legs. I had recently noticed my face looking puffy. Today when I went to the gym, I peed five times in two hours. That’s an average of once every 24 minutes.

I expected this stuff to come, just not so early. But there is not much I can do about it, besides trying to get sleep and exercise, letting myself take it easy, and taking advantage of whatever makes me feel good (reading, exercise, sleep, massages, yoga, buying clothes that fit, time spent in nice weather outdoors or with people who make me smile, good food).

So I’m thankful for this weekend, in which I was able to visit an apple farm, get a massage, watch some programs, read, shop for clothing, take leisurely strolls and get breaks from childcare. If I could set an ideal schedule now, I would work half days, followed by a nap, a walk on the treadmill at the gym, quality time with family and a good book. I have virtually no ambition to accomplish things beyond nesting-type projects. This too will pass. In the meantime, I can only make the best of the situation and take advantages of the pleasures that are offered when they are available.

Week 27 thoughts

What did I get myself into?

It is too late to get out of this?

Are bodies really meant to do this?

Can I really make it through labor in this condition?

Remind me about this, please, when I start having baby thoughts again.

Three more months? How many days until Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas?

Ow. Yawn.

it's still a fetus

The other day, I referred to the thing growing in my belly as a fetus while talking with Mark.

“Do you still think of it as a fetus?” he asked. He sometimes refers to it by the name we’ve pretty much agreed on. I wish I could share it with you, because I love it, but since I change all names on this blog, I’ll say it’s Willow here.

I admitted that I don’t feel much of a bond to the being that is in there now.

“I would be devastated if I lost the pregnancy at this point,” I said. “But not because I’m bonded to what is in there now. It’s because I’m bonded to the idea of what will emerge in a couple of months.”

Sometime, when I hear other women express love or pride about their growing fetuses, I feel like I’d be a better mother if I were more like them. If I were less attuned to the pains of pregnancy and more appreciative of the miracle. I suppose bonding before and after birth would be ideal. But if it has to be one or the other, I think post-birth bonding is definitely preferable.

Yes, now I see it as a fetus, as a solid, massive object that is beginning to make my life difficult. Most of my pregnancy thoughts are now about discomfort, pain and fear of childbirth. I do recognize that the pounding coming from within is my future daughter, and I’m excited to meet her, but I think of “her” as what emerges three months from now, and not what is there now.

I’m reassured by the fact that I didn’t bond much with River in the womb, but we’ve had a very secure attachment since he emerged. I expect it will be the same the second time around.

I also told Mark about my reluctance to use the name Willow before the birth. If something would happen and we already referred to her by name, we couldn’t use that name again. As long as it remains the fetus, or as we occasionally joke, the parasite, the name is not so dependent on the outcome.

Then a part of me clings toward formal terminology as a means of representing my views on abortion. I would not want to abort this fetus. But there are cases in which women need to make that decision. I believe in their right to do so and don’t want to overly humanize something when I believe it is still the woman’s decision to control what is happening within her body.

Fetus/Willow/baby continues to grow and my thoughts alternate between dread and discomfort regarding the next few months and excited preparation for meeting my daughter - the word still has a magical ring - my daughter, near the end of the year.