It's a Date

Today...well, it was much better than yesterday.  It started out well.  I had to see Dr. VBAC in the morning, and we set the date for delivery:  March 18th at 0730.  You'd think this would have pleased me.  It did not.  In my head all I could think was, "What the hell am I going to do with myself for 26 more days?"  I wanted to cry but I didn't have a private moment to do so.  

I think I've made it pretty clear that I have disliked my doctor(s) this entire pregnancy.  I think he's a real jerk.  He's also a perinatologist and there aren't many to choose from in my state so...here we are.  He's supposed to be the best, but he has the personality of a rock.  A condescending rock who pushes his own personal agenda onto his patients.  He better be as good as they say.

Anyhow...

I spent the rest of yesterday doing some hard-core moping and bringing the moods of everyone around me down.  I know I'm being a wuss.  But I'm living in fear here.  I have horrible dreams that do not end with a take-home baby. I'm good and freaked out about the delivery.  I wonder constantly if he's okay in there.  I think about how excited my little girl is to be a big sister and how excited Jerry is to have a son, and I could just cry.  I want my happy ending.  I want my good outcome.  I've waited for it, sometimes patiently, sometimes not so patiently, but I HAVE waited.

By the time I closed my eyes last night I was really worked up.  Luckily for Jerry and Roo, I woke up in a much more relaxed mood today.  Roo and I found a great little tea set while out shopping and we had a tea party while I was supposed to be studying.  I think she could tell that the mood was lighter today because she was extra enthusiastic about shopping for  baby stuff.  Much of the joy I've derived from this pregnancy has been in seeing how much she is looking forward to having a baby too.  She'll likely want to send him back to wherever he came from a week in, but right now it's definitely sweet.

So we baby shopped.  I bought diapers, which is a big step for me.  I still haven't opened a thing or taken the tags off a single clothing item.  I tuck the tags away carefully in an organized little folder.  Just in case.  Living in Frontier Land makes it difficult to abstain from preparing beforehand.  With Roo, I bought an outfit the day we found out we were having a girl.  I told myself it was to mark the occasion, remember her by if she didn't make it.  Other than that, we went on a big shopping trip the weekend before my scheduled delivery.  I can't really do that this time, so I've tried to find a compromise where I buy things as my paranoia allows.  I have packed a baby hospital bag that I keep in the trunk of my car, and I will wash those clothes the day before.  Or if I go into labor, Jerry knows how to use the baby detergent.

Even with my extreme baby gear phobia, I have to say:  I freaking love baby gear.  Love it.  I can wander the baby aisles of any store for hours.  I adore when mommies blog about what products they love.  I will hunt and hunt for the perfect baby socks:  not too tight but they stay on little feet.  It is so scary and exciting to picture all the unused items actually being used by a baby.  

Hi ICLW folks!  I've been meaning to get a tab up that tells of my/our journey for the last 3 ICLW's, and it hasn't happened yet.  I'll try to do a brief intro here.  I'm Reese, 29, new-grad RN, currently knocked up.  My guy Jerry and I are not legally married (yet--engaged for almost 7 years now) but you will hear me refer to him as my husband here.  In our hearts we've been married for a long time, but the ceremony is still hanging out on our to-do list.  I'm not at all embarrassed to say that I am crazy about him.  There was no one else for me from the moment he entered my life.  I try not to say mushy stuff like that to his face too often.  I am so incredibly blessed to have him.  I am grateful that he and I generally find ourselves on the same page when it comes to family-building, as I don't think I would've made it through without his support.  When I say we generally agree, I am not including shopping for baby gear.  You should hear us in the Target baby section discussing swings.  It's pretty bad.  Good thing it's about as bad as we get. 

I have a little girl who is 5.5.  She is the best thing ever.  I call her Roo or Kiddo here.  

I'm not an infertile, but even before nursing school I've always been fascinated by fertility treatments.  I spent some time precepting with the first doctor in my state to take IVF patients and I can completely see my self working for a reproductive endocrinologist some day, helping to get women knocked up (and stay that way) for a living.  I also have a NICU obsession and can't decide if working in a NICU would be good or bad for my emotional well-being.  We'll see where I end up. 

My family-building difficulties come during pregnancy.  Basically, my uterus is an asshole.  My first pregnancy in 2006 ended at 27 weeks when I had a random complete placental abruption that forced my 2lb 3oz son to be born in a rural hospital that was unprepared for us.  Though Matthew was transferred to a fully capable NICU, he passed away when he was 15 days old.  He had no brain bleeds, no NEC, no heart defects, but he had crappy crappy lungs.  I have no words to describe what my life became when he left.  It's been almost 7 years, but some days it still feels like it all happened yesterday.  We miss him every day.

My uterus then decided to behave for me to have Roo 15 months later.  I had no complications, just some mandatory bed rest and an obscene amount of monitoring.

Fast forward to the present.  We are having a little boy.  My uterus decided to attempt evacuation back at 30 weeks.  I also have a wonky placenta this time.  I had to go to the same rural hospital where I had Matthew and they airlifted me out as soon as they could find a reason.  Which the uterus was more than happy to provide them with.  As of now I'm currently hanging out in the city at a hospital "halfway house" a block from the L&D unit and 3.5 hours from home.  Waiting.

I imagine that due to my history of uterine issues, preterm labor, caesareans and placental abruption, I will be lucky to actually have a choice about when I am done having babies.  If I get to choose when my uterus permanently leaves my body, I swear I'm going to have a bonfire and a uterus burning ceremony as a personal grand finale to the difficulties that have plagued my reproductive years.

I think that brings you up to speed.  Oh yeah, except that for this entire pregnancy I've been an emotional basket case.  You have been warned.

As of now I have 25 days to delivery.