Yesterday was a milestone for me; after being on bed rest for 8 weeks due to preterm labor contractions, I reached the 9 month mark. It is truly amazing how God can create a masterpiece in a day, a week, or 9 months. It feels my heart with gladness and joy to know that I am carrying the most precious miracle inside of me, another human being, a living, breathing soul, a masterpiece from God. Only three weeks and six days left until my little boy's grand debut's date. I cannot wait to see what my little guy looks likes, feels like, sounds like. I cannot wait to hear his first cry, see his first smile, and the look on his daddy's face. I cannot wait to see the look on Jim's face when he holds his son for the first time. I'm so excited!
In Sunday school last week, our teacher prayed for patience. (Thanks, Mr. Jim) Praying for patience is a dangerous thing because you are literally asking God to give you a circumstance where you will have to practice it. I have learned to not pray for patience, but ask for peace during times of trials or tribulation. I have learned my lesson about praying for patience. Well, this week I have learned to practice patience. I had a scare on Wednesday, thinking I was going into labor. False Alarm! Ever since Wednesday, I have been restless and unable to sleep because any minute now, my little guy can arrive. (Thanks, Mr. Jim)
A friend of mind told me recently that God sometimes prepares us in the strangest ways for what is about to come. Well, I am definitely getting prepared for my little guy...no sleep, worrying about the smallest things, going to the extreme with cleanliness (I've been a neat freak, but this is OVERBOARD), and trying to stay calm around Jim, in laws, and outlaws about this baby.
I'm not asking for patience, I'm asking for peace...it's a much better feeling!
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Pleasantly Plump? NOT!
Throughout my 35 weeks of pregnancy, I have enjoyed every week. Yes, every week. Even the weeks where I laid in the bathroom floor praying to the porcelain god that I could throw up. Yes, even the weeks when I had uncontrollable contractions that made me worry, I have enjoyed. Those days are history. I'm not in love with being pregnant anymore. In fact, I am down right miserable and it's time to complain.
At 28 weeks, I was put on an IV pump for contractions. I had medicine going in me every three minutes and large quantities every four hours. The IV made my heart speed up and the medicine to help with the heart rate made me sleepy. Around 34 weeks, I came off all the medicine and my doctor decided to let nature take its course. Well since I've come off the stupid medicine stupid side effects have taken place. I itch all the time. People have told me it's dry skin and just apply more lotion. Who has dry skin on their tongue, inside of their lips, their cheeks, the palms of their hands or the soles of their feet? (Well, I have to admit, my heels are a little dry, but that's besides the point.) I wake myself up itching, along with Jim. On top of itching, my feet remind me of what my great grandmother's looked like, I have no ankles. Bye-bye cute pregnant Amber. Hello miserable, kankled, swollen, and waddling Amber.
I know all of these "gifts" will be exchanged for a remarkable gift, but in the meantime, I'm not pleasantly plump anymore, and just down right miserable.
At 28 weeks, I was put on an IV pump for contractions. I had medicine going in me every three minutes and large quantities every four hours. The IV made my heart speed up and the medicine to help with the heart rate made me sleepy. Around 34 weeks, I came off all the medicine and my doctor decided to let nature take its course. Well since I've come off the stupid medicine stupid side effects have taken place. I itch all the time. People have told me it's dry skin and just apply more lotion. Who has dry skin on their tongue, inside of their lips, their cheeks, the palms of their hands or the soles of their feet? (Well, I have to admit, my heels are a little dry, but that's besides the point.) I wake myself up itching, along with Jim. On top of itching, my feet remind me of what my great grandmother's looked like, I have no ankles. Bye-bye cute pregnant Amber. Hello miserable, kankled, swollen, and waddling Amber.
I know all of these "gifts" will be exchanged for a remarkable gift, but in the meantime, I'm not pleasantly plump anymore, and just down right miserable.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Daddy's Home
It's the neatest, unexplainable, most amazing feeling in the world to feel the movement of your unborn baby. My little guy used to move constantly, punching me, kicking me, and doing somersaults in my belly. Now that I have five weeks to go, his movement has slowed down quite a bit because he really doesn't have much room to stretch or play. What I have noticed is that when Jim comes home and sits beside me, our little guy goes crazy. Evidently, he loves his daddy! Even at night when I snuggle up to Jim or when Jim puts his hand on my belly, the little guy goes insane with his wiggling and squirming. I can't quite figure it out yet, but I'm elated that the two of them have already formed a bond before he gets here. I have to admit, I'm a little jealous that he doesn't show out for me, but will show out for his daddy. Boys will be boys!
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