Inevitable Pregnancy Post

Back Story:  We were about to leave for the hospital to have our first born, Aleana.  It occurred to us that maybe we should get some belly shots, you know for posterity.  Trace broke out the camera and tried to take a picture.  The camera made this funky noise and then refused to work.  We had just replaced the battery, so that wasn't it.  There was a new roll of film in it, as we were prepared to take lots of pictures of Aleana and her grand debut.  When the camera wouldn't work, we broke out our backup disposable camera.  Trace tried to take a picture - and nothing.  No flash, no click.  The little wind gear thing was wound.  Whatever was wrong with it, it wouldn't work.  

So there you have it.  I broke not only one, but two cameras in a matter of minutes.  Talk about giving a pregnant women a complex...

Needless to say, I wasn't very willing to have my picture taken when I was pregnant with any of the other kids.  I am not saying that the above incident was the root cause...but it certainly didn't help.  I was more embarrassed as to how big of a pregnant lady I had become.  

Looking back, it was wrong of me to feel that way, on so many levels.  Yes, I was fat.  Yes I was pregnant.  But I don't have very many pictures of me during that time of the kids' lives to share with them now.  Letting something that is that vain influence me has just caused more pain.  I regret it.  I wish that I had better confidence in myself at the time.  Pregnancy and the miracle of birth is a beautiful thing, no matter what size you are.

Of course, I can say all of this because hindsight is 20/20.  It's also a lot easier to allow belly shots and unflattering pregnancy photos to get taken since I am skinnier now.  Again with the self-confidence issue.  

I have pondered why the size of me matters so much.  Beside the "being healthy" reason, why is being skinny so important to me?  

Being on bed rest, I have had a lot of time to think.  And the answer is: it's not.  The actual being skinny to look good for photos ops is not what bothers me.  What bothers me is when I can't do the things that skinny people can do.  When I can't exercise the way I want.  When I can't wear the clothes that I like.  When I can't participate in the activities that I enjoy.  

This pregnancy has been a particularly tough one.  Physically and mentally.  I naively thought that this time around might be easier than my others because I weigh 140 pounds less.  At least that would be the logical thing to think.  Don't get me wrong.  The gastric bypass hasn't negatively affected this pregnancy.  In fact, when doing my research before deciding to expand our family, I found that the gastric bypass was beneficial to patients like me - due to significantly lowering the risk of diabetes and preclampsia.  Being at a normal, healthy weight hasn't caused any issues.  In fact, they have both had a positive impact on this pregnancy.  

What I didn't realize is that healthy weight or not, my uterus has been through a lot.  My heart has it's own issues.  And both have reeked havoc on me.  

And being 34, with 4 kids already doesn't help.

I had to quit running and playing basketball at 16 weeks pregnant due to reoccurring contractions and spotting.  

At 23 weeks, "pelvic activity", as the dr put it, needed to be put on hold - due to contractions.  Poor Trace.

At 31 weeks, and 32 weeks - I had to go the the hospital to stop contractions.  Full bed rest was put into effect.  The dr finally took pity on me and put me on oral terbutaline to keep the contractions at bay.  That drug is the devil.  

I apparently have an irritated uterus.  Can't say I blame her.  I have kind of put her through a lot over the  years.  Me and her have a love/hate relationship.  PCOS hasn't helped.

At 34 weeks, I found myself at the hospital yet again.  This time for heart palpitations and contractions.  My blood pressure was 70/42.  Not good.  Got monitored, more IV fluid, and meds to help with the low blood pressure.

At 35 weeks I was finally able to stop taking the terbutaline.  Trace calls it the "shake and bake" drug.  It made me shake like crazy, but allowed this baby to bake a little longer.  It's awesome not shaking anymore, but these contractions make it hard to sleep, or move for that matter.

So now I am sitting here, typing this post at 38 weeks, almost 39.  I have been dilated for almost 3 weeks now.  I have had good contractions every 9-12 minutes for the past 72 hours.  But not enough to go to the hospital yet.  This stuff is getting really old.  It feels like I have been in labor for the last two months.

Sometime in the last few days, I finally realized what has been bothering me (aside from everything listed above - haha).  Not being able to walk normal, take my kids to school, lift my little ones, exercise, run, jump, clean house, cook dinner, go to social functions, or enjoy "pelvic activity" (which the ban got lifted at 36 weeks by the way - woohoo)....all these things remind me of what it felt like for so many years for me.  Feeling those limitations, whether it's because of physical reasons or mental reasons has made me feel stuck - trapped.  Depressed.  

Depression has such a grip.  A grip that took me 10 years to figure out.

I don't need to be "skinny".  But I do need to be able to do the things that bring me joy.  I truly love being active.  Working out is my Prozac.  (well so is sleep...but that's a given).  Being able to have the energy I need for my kids and family is what keeps my head above water.  Being healthy is a mental state for me.  I need to be in shape to stay sane.

The other day, Trace and I were talking about this pregnancy signifying the end of a season.  Our last baby.  And how life just keeps moving.  He said this moment is kind of "bitter-sweet".  Right now, there is nothing bitter about it for me.  But there is a lot of sweetness in knowing that we have a little one coming...finally.  We are so excited to meet her...to hold her and get to know her special spirit.  And I have a few questions to ask her - like why she is so determined to be a ninja girl...because with all the flips and tricks that she is still managing to accomplish with the very little room she has is truly a feat.  If we didn't already have a name picked out - we would call her Xena.  Princess Warrior. :)

My bitter pill to swallow won't happen for a few more years...you know - when my babies aren't babies anymore.

By then, my uterus and I will have gone our separate ways.  

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And without further adieu...some belly shots.  With lumps and bumps and all.  :) 

Take that posterity!

13 weeks

27 weeks

34 weeks

38 weeks

It truly is the end of several seasons, isn't it...