Missed a previous bump photo roundup and just need to see my midsection? Check out my Bump Photos HERE.
Week 32 – Week 32 there wasn’t really a main theme to the week, just a lot of little thoughts, moments, concerns and quandaries. Enjoy my verbal diarrhea on growing Baby Jones in week 32.
Paid for baby’s daycare deposit this week. Hilariously they’ll give it back to us when she graduates from kindergarten. Here’s to hoping she isn’t a dropout!
Worked at the Freshly Picked and June & January sample sale this week. My child needs exactly zero more pieces of clothing, and yet, look at my loot below! Gotta love helping out at a sample sale and getting the perk of A. seeing all the amazing items up close and personal, and B. getting to pre-shop! When I left book publishing to take my current job two years ago I knew working for a baby/kid company would be super adorable, but I never imagined the hookup I’d be getting working closely with so many amazing baby and kids brands!
In other news, I am being held hostage by my Braxton Hicks. BH contractions are perfectly normal, and nothing to worry about UNLESS you have more than X an hour (apparently everyone has a different idea of the danger zone) followed by the same amount in your second hour. It’s a double edged sword. On one hand they don’t hurt and they’re perfectly normal and you’re not supposed to stress about them. Then on the other hand, you ARE supposed to keep an eye on them, counting to make sure you’re not having a bunch of them in a row with any frequency. If you do suddenly slip into this path your recourse is to lay down, drink a bunch of cold water, and see if in hour number two the contractions start to slow down, decrease, become very erratic. This is a scary line to constantly live between. Last week at work I found myself diving into a BH contraction surge (coming every 4 minutes) and I knew the only thing I could do was get the hell out of work and lay down. Because I’m working on putting my body first, I told my boss, headed home, and thankfully once I was settled in with my water and couch time, the contractions went back to their 1-2 an hour randomness.
The hard thing is that dehydration is one of the biggest triggers for BH contractions. Since getting pregnant I’ve turned to lemonade as my enjoy with dinner / after dinner delight since my first love wine is no longer available. Lemonade and I were getting along great until the third trimester. Now basically putting any liquid of ANY kind in my body other than water is becoming a trigger for BH contractions. The other night after work GOD FORBID I wanted a glass of lemonade instead of water, and as I lay on the couch watching tv I noticed the contractions were coming FAST. No matter how much water I drank and positions I changed, they weren’t stopping so I had to turn to option #2, get in the bath. It’s the only other tool I have found to stop them. So there I am in the bath, Adam sitting on the floor next to the tub, the iPad perched on the top of the toilet, finishing our episode of Chicago PD as the contractions finally stopped.
It’s scary, and emotionally exhausting to constantly live in this world where I’m on the verge of potentially sending myself into labor. In the end I’m sure Baby Girl will be like most first time babies and will be late and all these Braxton Hicks will be just something that happened on the way to meeting her, but as we sit here still in the scary premature zone, I feel like I have no control and am completely trapped by my body. Anything I do outside of laying on the couch can spur them on, and if I can’t find a way to make them stop after I’ve started them I’m in the danger zone. Yard work, walking the dogs, working, even FUCKING DRINKING LEMONADE is something I have to have a contingency plan for. But as I said to Adam as I lay in the tub this week, we’ve been walking this tightrope since week 23 and we’ve made it to 32, so we’ll just keep at it till we meet her. There’s no other choice.
Sleep is becoming harder. You can only sleep on your side, which hasn’t been an issue for me for most of my pregnancy until lately. Even with my tempurpedic mattress, no matter what pillow fort I make, by about 2am I wake up with the hip I’m laying on being on complete FIRE. The other morning around 3:30 am I finally gave up, left our bed and headed to the couch. I figured since I’ve fallen asleep there many times it had to be better than continuing my hourly flip from painful hip to painful hip routine I usually do. It worked that night, but I’m trying not to make it a habit. The worst is some nights the hip pain also becomes painful restless leg syndrome, which is a double whammy that you just can’t believe. Most mornings by the time the sun comes up I think, Thank god, at least now I can get up and make the pain stop. 8 more weeks. 8 more weeks. 8 more weeks. We’re so close. I can do this.
At my 32 week checkup the doc measured my belly and I continue to measure about 1.5-2 weeks ahead of schedule. What does this mean? It means I could be growing a very hefty little lady in there. I head back to the doc in two weeks for another basic apt of blood pressure, pee test, heartbeat check and belly measure, and if she’s still measuring well ahead of schedule (not sure why she’d suddenly stop being so big) we’ll start keeping a close eye on lil’chunk and potentially have one final ultrasound (I love all excuses to see what’s she’s up to in there!) to truly get her weight and see if she might need to be brought into this world a little early to keep from ripping me from end-to-end. I would prefer she was born in 2016 (so Adam could qualify for his work’s new paternity leave plan), but if she has to be born in December, so be it. The only thing I’ll make sure of if I have any say in it is that she’s NOT, in ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM, born on Christmas. Poor kid is already going to be born way too close to Christmas already, so if I can spare her from sharing her birthday with Jesus, I will. Come on Lil’chunk, this is all up to you.
The Amazon cart is packed to the gills with the remaining baby needs (burp cloths, diapers, wipes, breast pump handheld bra, baby shampoo, things like this) and I’m just waiting till Black Friday to head into the cart and hit, PURCHASE. I’m weirdly excited for the onslaught of boxes that will begin hitting our doorstep after the order has been placed.
Also, I’m weirdly concerned suddenly about what in the world we’re doing with the dogs when I go into labor. Can’t call on family (since they all live on the West Coast), and closest Chicagoland friends live too far away to help in a quick pinch. Do you put the dog sitter on standby retainer in the middle of the holidays? How do you let your boarding facility know you may need a room at the inn between Dec 13th and Jan 14th? Get all weird and personal with your neighbors you’re kinda friends with, but probably not, ‘can you take my dogs to the boarders when I go into labor or check on them if I have to leave for the hospital at 2:30am’ close with? Can I just bring them with me to the hospital? There should totally be a pet boarding facility connected to the hospital that’s open 24/7 for ER patients, surgery patients, and labor & delivery. OMG, future business here I come!
Symptoms? Still no stretch marks (unless you count the ones on my hips from when I was a teenager and first grew my JLo booty), 16.8 pounds gained, no new varicose veins since I fist noticed them in early 2nd trimester, no hemorrhoids, no swelling of hands, feet or face, still tons of overpowering shameful acne, pain in my hips and legs when I sleep, no shortness of breath, and baby very very very infrequently places her feet in my right rib cage. Currently I can still get things off the floor, put on my socks, and put on shoes. I definitely can no longer cut my toe nails, but can still shave my legs. It’s about the small wins my friends!
So there we have it. Week 32 of growing Baby Girl Jones comes to a close and we’re one more week closer to meeting this little lady! See you in week 33 for more dribble and more bump photos…