Fast-forward to the third trimester, I gave in to my fears even more. We had a number of friends and family lose babies during the third trimester and my fear got the better of me. I begged Jon to let me rent a fetal heart-doppler, the kind they use in doctors offices to hear the heartbeat, to have at home and listen whenever I wanted. He gave in and it went a long way in soothing frazzled nerves.
This time around I vowed that things would be different, after all, I knew what to expect, I knew what to look for or how a pregnancy should feel and I’m sure God was just laughing at the road ahead of me. There has been NOTHING the same with this pregnancy and I still find myself struggling with each new twinge, symptom, or cramp. I’m sure God is sitting up there, looking down at my fears, and wondering why I just can’t hand these feelings over to Him. After all, He is in control of everything and He wants nothing but great things for my life. I’m sure He’s sad every time my mind wanders over to the dark side, imagining the worst. I want to be able to trust him with my whole heart and being, but it’s hard to let go of the fears.
So, I’ve done it again; I’ve rent a fetal heart-doppler. It arrived last week and I love pulling it out, swishing the wand across my belly, and hearing the magic of my baby’s heartbeat. Maybe it proves just how little I trust God or maybe it just provides the reassurance I need. I don’t know, but I do know that I love hearing that heartbeat; it’s a miraculous sound either way.
Devyn even helped Grandma drive the boat around the lake. She's quite the natural, huh?!
The queen and her subjects, Daddy, Uncle Brock, and Uncle Josh!
Daddy's turn to try out the wakeboard.
Uncle Josh's turn to show-off! It was fun to watch!
And at the end of a long day on the water, there was still energy to paint with Grandma.
Then those feelings gave way to exhaustion, non-stop sickness, and thoughts of wondering what we’d gotten ourselves into. There were times when I was heaving over our toilet that I wondered, “I remember this, why did I think I’d want to do it again?!” There were moments of “I’d do anything to stop feeling this way” and those were quickly followed by moments of remorse at the idea that I’d be anything less than grateful for the blessing God had given us. But with nausea knocking hard on my door, our toddler begging for attention, and the bed looking incredibly inviting, my prayers for mercy seemed to go unheard.
After a good six to eight weeks of the above, I started to realize that “Hey, I’m feeling good. I don’t think I’ve thrown up in two or three days!” I whispered words of thanks and started hunting for my maternity tops because despite the constant nausea and trips to the bathroom, my middle was still managing to grow. I bit the bullet and started wearing the maternity tops to work, the biggest thought running through my mind was, “Relief; I can breathe again!”
Within the past two weeks, I started feeling movements from this tiny life and again, things fell into perspective for me. I remember why we wanted to have another child; I’m looking forward to finding out what we’re having; and I’m so excited to see this new little life that we’ve created. Each week the movements are getting stronger and I’m actually starting to feel them on a daily basis which is pure bliss!! I treasured those movements from Devyn and now I’m getting to experience movements again. God is so good to us!
I will end with this, I’ve been absolutely surprised by the exhaustion!! I can’t get over it! I don’t remember being this exhausted when I was pregnant the first time but now I can’t seem to get enough sleep. Oh well, as my friend Sarah said, I’m sure it’s God’s way of preparing us for the very little, to zero, sleep I’ll receive once this little one actually makes his or her appearance!
Thus, Knee-Deep in Munchkin Land was created.
Lately, I just feel beat-up and misinterpreted by the things I’ve written. I understand that its my own fault for being so open with my thoughts and feelings; I know that I should probably develop a thicker skin, but that is why I need to reevaluate things.
It was never my intention for Jon to be portrayed in a bad light, or in a bad way. He is an amazing husband, father, and partner; I feel truly blessed to be his wife. Posts that I have written, either in fun or as a way to write down my thoughts, are being misconstrued or taken out-of-context. In that respect, I’m not bringing honor to my husband as I am called to do.
I don’t know if I’ll be back, but I’ll be sure to keep you posted as to what I decide. For those that have been encouraging, thoughtful, and supportive, I thank you. That was the true intent of this blog all along…
Two women, who share the same last name, both expecting little, bundles of joy!
At Kara's baby shower in July, Kara - 33 weeks, myself - 11 weeks.
And you don’t look silly already, wearing pants with the buttons unbuttoned and tight shirts trying to pretend you’re still skinny enough to wear them?!
La, la, la, I’m not listening. I refuse to wear them, I just refuse.
Fine, whatever, be stubborn. I don’t care. You and I both know that you’d be more comfortable in these clothes but since you refuse to do it; be uncomfortable, have difficulty taking deep breaths, and continuing grimacing every time you sit down or stand up.
Well, since you put it that way…
After listening to the above inner dialogue for the past two weeks, I finally started wearing maternity tops again. It’s something I’ve been fighting; refusing to believe that it was time. However, my unbuttoned pants and growing waistline have finally won the war and I spent all weekend feeling unrestricted and free. As my mom gently reminded me, when I was bemoaning the fact that the time was here, it is only three weeks earlier than when I started wearing maternity tops with Devyn.
Please don’t think for a moment that my hesitancy or refusal to wear these clothes is a sign of vanity or pride, because it’s actually a badge of honor in my book, I just hated the idea of looking silly for wearing these clothes “too” early or that I was trying to advance this pregnancy further than it really was. But I can finally say that I really am starting to develop a baby bump and my body is breathing a sigh of relief now that I’ve raised the white flag.
As far as cravings go, they’ve been coming and going. I’ve been craving the usual stereotypical thing and have gone absolute bonkers over pickles. It isn’t that unusual of a craving for me, as I can eat pickles at any time of day or night, pregnant or not. However, when I stopped at Chili’s to pick up some macaroni and cheese (another craving I gave in to; Chili’s has the BEST mac ‘n cheese anywhere), I absolutely salivated at the smell of dill pickles coming from the kitchen. I sheepishly asked the cashier if they’d be willing to share with a needy, pregnant woman and sure enough, I walked out with about four dill pickles. Yummm!
My hormones and emotions seem to be elevated extremely high with this pregnancy. As I’ve said before, with Devyn I fairly floated through my pregnancy; sleeping or vomiting during the 1st trimester; happy and joyful during the 2nd trimester; and eager to be done during the 3rd trimester. Neither Jon nor I were prepared for the overly-emotional, extra volatile, or prickly woman that has now emerged. I’m working on the volatile part and making a more conscious effort on how I’m treating my family and friends but I absolutely have no control over the emotional part. I have experienced, on several occasions, the intense need to cry and have done so in our bedroom, in my doctor’s office, in my supervisor’s office, and in my car. I have no clue what caused it, nor any way to turn off the water works. I’m a crying, blubbering mess.
And last, but certainly not least, how do you know you’ve been throwing up more than your fair share? When you walk into the bathroom and either a) your 20-month-old is leaning over the toilet and spitting into the water or b) the same 20-month-old accompanies you to the bathroom to hold your hair and murmur softly in your ear. Ok, ok, she isn’t holding my hair but she is definitely rubbing my arms or my face, whichever is nearer, and doing her best help me feel better. I just love that child and it’s a great reminder why I’m putting my body through this… again.
I had just finished giving a quick speech to Jon about how to get Devyn to eat her dinner when Mom leaned forward in her seat. “Jenn,” she whispered, trying to grab my attention. I lifted my head from my plate and whispered back, “What?” I wasn’t sure why we were whispering, we were sitting at table in the middle of a cafeteria, with Jon, Devyn, my dad, and Allison all sitting between us; it wasn’t as if we were going to be able to share some dark secret without the rest of the world, if not our family, finding out.
“I think you need to be nicer to Jon,” she confided in me. Before I could start it on my explanation of raging hormones and elevated emotions, she continued. “He told me this morning that if you keep this up, this is going to be your last pregnancy.” My head snapped back and I felt like I had been doused with a cold shower. I glanced at Jon and he was suddenly busy trying to get Devyn to finish her corn. When he finally glanced up at me, the sheepish, boyish grin (the one that usually gets him out of trouble) was no where to be seen and I realized that he was more serious than I thought.
This was the wake-up call I received in Yellowstone and man, did I need to hear it. I knew that I had been crazy on so many different levels; scolding Jon one minute, crying the next, and laughing a moment after that. I knew that I had been snappy, snide, cold, and annoyed with Jon on many levels. I would LOVE to blame it on hormones and I’m sure that they play a huge part in it but since I wasn’t like this during my pregnancy with Devyn, it’s been a new experience for all of us. While the news that if I didn’t shape up or else didn’t please me, especially the fact that he talked to my mom about it first, it really made me stop and think.
The biggest thought that ran through my mind was this; had I grown so comfortable with Jon, and taken his steadfast love for granted, that I really thought it was ok to treat him this way? Anyone else would have told me to jump in a lake, and my sisters already had in more ways than one, so why did I expect that my husband had to put up with it? And what kind of example was I setting for Devyn?
Needless to say, I’m doing my best to change my attitude and while I wish I could say that it was for the sole reason of treating Jon better, I have to admit that I also want more babies in the future and I don’t want to see if he carries through on his threat or not. I’ve still had my moments where I’ve been overcome with exasperation or frustration or tears, and Jon still has to deal with the effects of that but overall, I think I’ve noticed an improvement and I think Jon has too. And I have to admit, hearing that news from my mom went over a lot better than if Jon had come to me directly; which would have surely resulted in a huge fight. Sometimes it helps to have a 3rd party involved… sometimes.