Well, I'm almost not-pregnant anymore,

And I have completely neglected to blog the journey with this second sweet child o' mine inside me. Whoops!

Ok, here's a quick (it's actually not quick at all) update:
I left off with considering a natural birth. I tooooooootally changed my mind on that... I'm DEFINITELY having a natural birth this time! I got me an old hippie lady midwife practice (one girl is actually a young hippie lady, and she's very good looking which makes me feel insecure about my giant body being exposed, but at least she has a unibrow. Bitch better not wax before I deliver). I'm delivering at a hospital with BIRTHING tubs. Tubs! To give birth in! I'm pretty excited about this concept... EXCEPT that at some point the ratio of water to birth matter is going to turn to "birth stew". MUST remember not to put my face under at any point. I've been reading a bazillion natural childbirth books. They all call my girl parts my "yuni", so they must know what they're talking about.
The baby is a GIRL. I admit, I was slightly disappointed at first, because I had my heart set on a Harvey. Then I was all "Oh snap, it's not a Harvey, I'll just have to have another one!". Then I started hurting and I was all "Eff babies. No more." And now I'm still in pain, but for some reason I wouldn't kill myself if I ever found out I was pregnant again.
Second pregnancy hurts! A lot! I can't elaborate on that too much. It hurts. A lot. A WHOLE lot?
These hormones are makin me a-crazy. Today I NEEDED deep dish pizza. Thanks a lot Travel channel! So I found an Uno Chicago Grill about 45 minutes away, figured it'd be the closest thing I'd find to "authentic" Chicago style pizza, but that it probably wouldn't actually be that authentic, so I'd settle for semi-deep dish at a restaurant in Baltimore that was muchmuch closer. So we're driving there and I'm kicking myself thinking I'm a total idiot for driving 895 and not just going all the way to Columbia where the real deep dish is, instead of the semi-deep dish. And I start whining and finally Joe is like "Just go. Go to Uno." and traffic wasn't bad so I did it. The second we get back onto the highway I got so pissed at myself for making this huge trek for some pizza that probably won't even be that good and will probably be expensive, and then I'm getting pissed at Joe for allowing me to do this, but I don't want to say any of this out loud, so I start to tear up and just mumble "This is stupid. I'm stupid, this is stupid. Stupid" until Violet yells out "MO CWACKER!" and I went totally ADD and forgot about being stupid. It's rough being pregnant.


And now, I am once again "overdue". Some would argue that there's no such thing as "overdue" until after 42 weeks. Those somes probably have never been 10 months pregnant. Or they eat alfalfa sprouts as a regular food in their diet. Anyhow, I am over-fucking-due. I've stopped answering my phone and texts when I see certain people's names, because I know exactly what they'll say.
Here is a translation:
"How are you feeling?" - 'Is your uterus currently contracting? How far is your cervix dilated? What else is going on down in your vagina?'
"How's my baby doing?" - This is a statement that only a true asshole can make. YOUR baby? Do you mean to ask if MY baby is still moving around and feeling alive inside me?
"I finished [some task]/have no plans for the week. *sigh*" - This is to imply that I have control as to when I go into labor, and that I should do so when it is convenient for my family.
"I have plans this day/can't get off work until this time." - Also to imply that if I go into labor at an inconvenient time (which I shouldn't do since I can control it), then I should cross my legs reallyreally hard and hold in that baby until after so-and-so is done!
"Call me if you need anything." - 'Call me if you're in labor. And ONLY if you're in labor. Because if you call, the very first thing I will ask you is if you're in labor, and if you say no, I'm going to cut our conversation short. But I love you dearly, so don't forget to call me when you're in labor so I can beat the other grandmother to the hospital and be the first one to hold MY baby. Seriously, don't forgot to call me... I'm afraid you're not going to call me, what with me annoying the hell out of you with my harassing phone calls and texts and whatnot."

So that's where I am. In pain, on Day 9,032 of pregnancy, with no sign of anything happening any time soon, and fed up with everything.

I want to feel the pain of giving birth!

I don't know why. I don't necessarily want to put it on my bucket list, because if I go ahead and wimp out on it this time, I don't want to have to have another baby JUST to fulfill my bucket list. But then I am tempted to put it on my bucket list so that the epidural is not an option this time!

I wanted to go drug free last time as well, but it ended the same way breastfeeding did. I didn't really inform myself, assumed I would just do it, then in the midst of it realized I had no idea what was happening and the stress was too much for me to continue. Well I've been talking to a lot of women about it lately, and apparently I made it through enough last time that if I had just taken the pain a LITTLE longer it would have been smooth sailing and I could have called myself a success. I know I was at LEAST 7 cm dilated before I got my epidural with Violet. And considering I was having 6 minute long contractions with 30 second breaks (they were never regular), how much worse could transition have been?! Worse probably, but I think I could have done it.

I was just too scared last time. What if I pass out from the pain and miss the birth? What if I hit my head on something on the way down and die and never get to physically see my baby? What if I land belly down and force the baby out so fast that it COMPLETELY blows my junk apart?

This time I know what that pain feels like. Unfortunately, I remember! Apparently I had it worse than normal also, because tricky little Violet was posterior, which can cause labor to drag out, and makes actual birthing a little more difficult. So if I have a cooperative baby this time, I got it in the bag! I KNOW I can handle really hard contractions for a really long time, so I just have to do that again, and then I don't have a choice but to push the baby out (which is actually the part that scares me the most).

So, I intend to have an epidural but I'm open to drug-free birth again this time. Right now, I'm just open to it. After reading some books and stuff, I hope to switch my intent to going drug-free. I hope to NOT be open to an epidural! I will do this!

Symptoms?

Morning sickness? About 2 days of mild yuckiness
Sore boobs? Nothing worth sleeping on my back over.
Food aversions? Mostly no.
Fatique? I'm calling it "a little extra laziness"
Cravings? Yeah a little, but that's kind of an everyday thing for me (I'm impressionable)
Sex dreams? BINGO!

I had tons of symptoms with my first pregnancy. Until 3 days ago, this one had been completely uneventful. Hence why I think it's a tumor. Or THOUGHT it was a tumor. A week and a half ago I started up with the weird crazy dreams (for example: Driving a van around a highway in Philly that turned into a shopping cart when I made a 90 degree turn going 50mph. Why would I dream this????), but I have some pretty pointless dreams without the influence of a fetus as well. 3 nights ago IT started. All through my first and last trimesters of my last pregnancy, I had these really [good? bad?]... naughty dreams. About Joe. WTF! In my dreams I get to seduce anyone I want, and I'm seducing the one person I know is never going to say no even if his junk is currently in a bear trap? (Sidenote: I don't even know how that would work.) It has me a little peeved. I guess come trimester 3 I'll be thankful for those dreams though, because lord knows we won't be sharing any steamy moments in reality then!

So that's it for me. I don't care what some stick I peed on says, this is my confirmation. Hi, I'm k8, and I have sexy dreams while pregnant.

What's the weirdest thing anyone's ever told you?

I'm one of those people that others like to open up to for some reason. I'm not sure why because I'm not particularly friendly or engaging in conversation. But when I'm pregnant it's worse - it's like the second my cervix closes, the floodgates open and all these loonies come rushing out at me.

Yesterday my neighbor told me a story about being pregnant with her third, and she developed a UTI toward the end and thought it was contractions. She made her Dad go to the hospital with her, thinking THIS WAS IT, and she didn't want to be alone. So she's there, and the doctor says they're gonna have to do an internal exam, and asks Dad if he'd like to leave the room. My neighbor goes all WTF on the doctor and says "WHY THE F*CK DOES HE NEED TO LEAVE?", and the doctor explains most men are usually not comfortable being in the room with that, and most women are not comfortable having men sitting around watching that (uh, especially men that are their dad). So Neighbor Lady is like "He ain't goin nowhere. This ain't the first time he's seen this [p-word] and it ain't the last time he'll see this [p-word], so he's stayin right there and you can get over it."

Wowza. By the multiple uses of the P-word, I'm sure you can tell "what type" she is, so I probably would have heard this story eventually, pregnant or not. But this is after, like, 4 brief conversations with the lady that she opened up. Actually, I guess I should be more shocked it took that long.

Anyhow, my question for her (that I didn't actually ask because I really, REALLY didn't want an answer) - I get that your dad saw your P-word before, 20some years ago when he was changing your diapers, but when is he going to see it again?! What reason does a middle-aged woman have to show her Dad her crotchola? Maybe she's taking him to all her yearly pap smears from now on for moral support. And then maybe to her yearly mammograms when she hits 50! What a Dad.

Joe was in the room with me when I got my first ultrasound with Violet. They whipped out this foot-long wand and put a giant condom on it and some lube over that, and Joe turns white and says "Is that going in you?" hahaha. I think the next time he actually looked at my crotch was 8 months later when Violet was born, at which time he turned white again and almost fell over. I'm still not sure how I was able to convince him to make another baby after that.

So, I guess the point of all that is, it's ok to overshare your crotch with your husband, because he's stuck with it whether he likes it or not. But leave your poor ol Dad out of it, and your neighbor too.

Pregnant again!

Last time I found out I was pregnant, I was about 7 weeks along, and I read that my growing fetus was the size of a blueberry. That's how she ended up getting her name! I joked with a friend we should name her Violet, like in that scene in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, where that bratty little beeotch chewed the gum and turned into a Maury-Povich-toddler-sized blueberry. (Haha, remember when he used to bring on those 70 pounds 2 year olds? It was sad really, I shouldn't laugh.)

Well this time I found out I was pregnant earlier, a little before 5 weeks. At that point I had an orange seed in me! (Sidenote: When my sister was young, she stuck a bunch of orange seeds up her nose. Nothing like huffing some 5 week old fetuses huh?) So I kinda can't "keep tradition" and name this baby something related to its size upon discovery, not if it pops out a boy anyway (which I am really hoping and believing already). Otherwise he's going to get beat up in school for being the sissy kid named Clementine.

Why do they have to use all produce to relate fetus size anyway? Here's some other fun theme ideas:

Alcoholic drinks: Sure, mom's not doing any drinking. But this growing baby is most likely making her act like a drunk anyway: barfing, off balance, sometimes weepy, sometimes belligerent, huge belly.
5 weeks: Your baby is the size of a hole in your mixed drink strainer!
10 weeks: Your baby is the size of a shot of tequila! Next week it will be the size of the lime!
20 weeks: Hooray! You have a pint!
Full term: Congratulations on your handle of vodka!

Ice Cream Toppings: Mom's probably eating tons of ice cream anyway so she's pretty familiar with these sizes!
4 weeks: It's a jimmy!
8 weeks: Crushed snickers bars!
12 weeks: A single scoop!
Full term: The kind of ice cream sundae you get your picture on a wall for eating!

Computer Parts: For the nerds.
5 weeks: Congratulations, you constructed your first USB port.
8 weeks: Wow, you made a chip!
14 weeks: Holy smokes, it's a mouse!
Full term: Is that a bubble jet printer in your uterus or are you just happy to see me?

I dunno, I just think there's plenty of other fun things to compare babies to than FRUIT and VEGETABLES. About 6 months after that baby is born, mom's going to be so obsessed with fruits and vegetables mashed up and going into her cute little bulk bag of potatoes, why can't she think about junky food while she's able. Screw sweet peas, I'm currently housing a dinner mint (one of the creamy kind, mmmm).