This week has been filled with more of a reality of this baby that we're expecting.
One evening, I was sitting in my rocker, and my eyes caught site of my needlework bag. I realized I haven't even begun anything for this little one, yet. I try to make at least one quilt and one afghan for each new addition. So, I looked through what I had here. I found a crochet pattern for a pretty afghan I haven't tried yet, and then noticed all I really had for colors was pink. Hmmm . . .
Now, I would very much love to have another girl . . . but something tells me this will probably be a boy. I decided to be "dangerous." I got out that pink yarn my husband bought me last year and rolled the skein into a nice big ball and began that afghan, arrive what may!
I figure, if this child is indeed a boy, I can use the blanket as a gift for one of the other dear ladies that I know who are also expecting. Surely, sooner or later, someone is bound to have a girl!
I did order two big skeins of varigated yarn to do up another pattern, too - just in case. The color is "snookums" and has yellows, white, greens, etc . . . something appropriate for either sex.
As much as I enjoy crocheting, I'm sure I'll have time in these next five months to complete both afghans.
Who knows . . . maybe I'll need both of them?
Again, we have a medical-grade doppler here. This afternoon I was shocked to find two "galloping" baby heartbeats in two very different locations. I checked back from one site to the next to discern whether they were the same rate or not. The digital reading on the doppler device read two different beats per minute ("BPM"). One site read 154-156 BPM, the other 160-164. And one site, the baby's movements (which are very distinct, and very noisy on doppler!) were constant, and at the other, practically nonexistent.
So... a new question brewing in my mind is, of course, am I carrying one baby? Or two? I am not a doctor. It's very possible I "caught" the same baby in two different spots on my abdomen. I just don't know. But then, why the differences in activity, rates, etc . . .?
This might prove to be an adventurous pregnancy, indeed!
We went ahead, earlier this week, and made an appointment with the clinic that houses the only available obstetricians who have rights at the hospital we wish to deliver at. There are four doctors available, and not knowing the differences between them, I told the receptionist to simply put me down for the earliest available morning appointment (my husband works second shift). The soonest they could "fit" me in with any of the physicians was in one and a half months. How discouraging!
The receptionist also said they could not "patch me through" to either that doctor (that I will be seeing) or her nurse due to general policy. They're afraid of lawsuits. I only wanted to ask a couple general questions, and get a "feel" for what the doctor would be like. I cannot imagine how they would fear lawsuits for something so trivial.
I feel as though I have waited too long, already, before being seen. One would think they would have me in a little earlier. When I do go, I will be 5 1/2 months along. If we do not care for this particular doctor, we'll have wasted even more time seeking, before being able to settle in for regular prenatal care. The receptionist at the clinic did agree to send me "information cards" on each of the doctors, there. Those arrived in the mail, this morning. The OB that I have an appointment with actually seems the least desirous.
My husband suggested we call around and see if we can't find another doctor that is closer, that can see me sooner. It would mean a new hospital to have to deliver at, but if things progress alright, and my blood pressure doesn't increase again, I should be able to labor most of the time at home, anyway . . .
And now, with my experiences with the doppler today, I am especially anxious to get in and be seen.
My energy is still rather low, but I notice right after I wake up in the morning up until 2pm or so, I can actually manage to complete chores and suchlike. I have even begun regularly schooling two of the smaller children, again. Routines are beginning to fall back into place.
I am still sick to my stomach during the daytime. It's like a constant "undertone". I feel "icky" all day long, but as I mentioned before, the bad "waves" of nausea only come two to four times per day and don't last more than an hour or two. This is a gigantic improvement over what it was even three weeks ago.
God feels much closer, lately.
I realized, two weeks ago, that my feeling so poorly drew me too much into myself. I wasn't reading my Bible, daily, any longer; my time in the Word was sporadic. I wasn't spending time in prayer as I had been, earlier, either. And our daily family devotions even felt lacking. A dear friend of mine wrote a little over a week ago, and the love she has for God was so very thick and apparent in her words. It was a sharp reminder to me, and I realized with sadness, that perhaps the reason I was feeling so miserable all this time was because I'd let go of my very best Friend's strong hands.
So, I am careful now, to make time for the Lord every day no matter how wretched I might feel. And it's helping immensely. In such a busy family, sometimes a mother needs to take one tiny moment at a time. I've found it easier to keep my temper even and to put a check on my patience with the children. Something I found impossible in my own strength, and with God at arms-length.
One strange thing . . . I notice that my hunger has lessened dramatically. I eat a small amount and then feel satisfied, and even full. That is not usual for me. Maybe I will be able to keep some of my weight down, after all. I tend to gain a large amount with each baby.
I've been keeping a check on my blood pressure each week. It's risen, some. But not terribly. I've been taking some natural therapies, such as specific vitamins and herbs. And I want to develop a habit of daily walking. But the third trimester will tell if it's helped.
I am looking forward, now, to seeing what "tomorrow" will bring as we close another week . . .