When does nesting kick in? I’ll tell you when: when it is not only inconvenient, but quite possibly the worst time ever.

I’ve never been a terribly nest-worthy person. Den and I, our house is well lived in. You know… papers piled on the desk, dishes left in the sink for a day or two, fur drifting around. We try, but there are many days when going to bed is just more important than cleaning, we’ll get to it tomorrow. I also tend to get overwhelmed easily and just avoid dealing clutter so it doesn’t stress me out.

So we’re redoing the hardwood floors, almost all of our furniture is stuffed (and I mean stuffed) in our garage and breezeway, I am living out of two little drawers of clothes (which is pretty much all my maternity clothes), my desk and files and books are inaccessible. Obviously this is necessary to get the floors refinished. It is short-term. I have my clothes, my laptop. We have Den’s TV room in the basement (where we are currently piled together on the couch). And yet it is driving. me. crazy.

I have a massive headache tonight simply due to anxiety. I came home from work and immediately started cleaning the kitchen. There were tools around, the vacuum cleaner in the middle of the floor, clothes bins in the corner, dishes in the sink, and I really couldn’t handle it. Den had to come to my rescue and carry out the big items while I cleared off the counter. Den finally coaxed me out of the kitchen to the TV room downstairs – ostensibly to eat and “relax” – and I started cleaning it, too, upset about the christmas decorations that were in bins in the room instead of in the storage area. I’m walking around cleaning little bits of garbage off of his desk, straightening tiles, putting bins away.

Every time I look around I want to start crying – and a couple times I actually did. Den’s quite perplexed (and concerned when I start crying!). I’m trying to explain how it feels like little spiders crawling around in my head, creeping me out that everything is out of order and I need to fix it.

It is all completely ridiculous. On Saturday we’re allowed to start bringing furniture back in, and we are taking this opportunity to completely de-clutter and improve our house. We had to move everything out quickly, but it was obvious that we need to purge in a big way. So moving things back in is going to be slower, and much more selective. I expect we’re going to be throwing away or re-homing a lot. We’re talking about buying a new dining set (because the one we have was a $10 garage sale find from 6 years ago), getting an area rug for the living room, replacing my old too-big-for-the-living-room desk with a small writing desk. All dependent on what kind of sales we can find, of course. So hopefully this extreme nesting OCD will come in handy.

Until then I have a whopping stress headache and I am going to my SIL’s to sleep in a bed (and take a shower). Sadly they do not have wifi.

30 friggin’ weeks! I can do another 10 weeks, I can.

And I’m not talking physically – I still have very few complaints, I’m not achy much, I’m not near the “I’m so done” stage yet.

But mentally I’m starting to get a tiny bit twitchy. Just a little. (But then… I have been twitchy this entire pregnancy, ha.)

::

Appointment today – no ultrasound, just seeing the midwife. They were so busy and backed up it was crazy in the waiting room… strong dislike. It was 45 minutes before I got called back by the nurse, and then another 15 until the midwife saw me. Grrr. This is why I try to get appointments first thing in the morning, not at 10:15.

But all looks good, and that’s all that matters. My weight is showing a total of 20lbs gained on their scale (which is probably over by a couple pounds, I ate a big breakfast at IHOP before my appointment, lol), my blood pressure is right where it always is at 102/64. I mentioned my BH contractions, and was of course told it was totally normal, just make sure I stay hydrated (which I knew, but I wanted to mention it). Heartrate was good and strong, probably 140’s.

Den was all concerned last night about me not looking very big – even though I’m pretty much the same size as I was when pregnant with Devin – so I mentioned that too. My fundal height is at 29cm, totally normal. Plus she says at this point she’s not growing out yet, she’s still growing up, plus with her all lopsided on my right side like she is all the time it makes measuring a little less accurate. I also told her about how the baby wedged herself into an awkward position on Sunday and how I wasn’t really *sure* which way she’s facing. The midwife tried to tell by feel, but baby’s still not big enough to get a good position on the head. She’s definitely vertex, but she couldn’t say for sure which end was up or down. And she said with the hiccups, their whole body vibrate with them so who knows! I remain fairly convinced those are feet in my ribs still. We shall find out in two weeks.

I also asked her about the floor refinishing and she basically said when if the smell doesn’t bother me then it’s fine. So I guess we’ll have to wait and see.

Ever stared at a room in your house after you’ve moved all the furniture and clutter out? It looks a lot bigger than you thought. A lot bigger. We currently have one completely empty and two almost-empty rooms. There’s a couple more things to move out tomorrow, then the bed gets moved Wednesday morning when we get up. Wednesday all the floors will be redone and then it will be living in our basement until the weekend when we’ll be able to move furniture back in.

Den asks me, “Will you be okay with staying here? Or do you have to go to a hotel?” I’m pretty sure he was talking about the vapors from the floor refinishing (though of course I won’t be home while they’re being done). No, my question was, How long will we have to stay off the floors completely? Because dude, if I do not have access to the bathroom for an evening then I am outta here. (No, we don’t have a bathroom downstairs yet. Yes, it is sad.) We will find out from the floor guy on Wednesday what I will have to do.

But hey, one of the local hotels has free wifi. I won’t suffer.

::

We also moved the dog crates to the basement, where they will likely stay. We have *finally* (after 6 years of owning the shepherd) gotten to a point where we can leave them both loose in the bedroom when we’re not home and nothing will be destroyed. Well, our bedding is all messed up, but we’ll come home to two dogs just snoozing. For a dog who had severe separation anxiety when we first got him (and would attack furniture frantically whenever we left the room, much less the house) this is really magical. And oh my god how much extra space we have in the bedroom without two giant crates in here!

Unfortunately with the crates went the dog beds. You know what that means? I have a german shepherd stretched out between DH and I, who routinely (and very innocently, I presume) stretches, kicking me. The other dog is on my other side. I feel like I’m stuck in a straight jacket in my own bed. And yes, it’s a king size. That doesn’t really seem to help much when you have a DH and two dogs.

The dog beds will becoming back in when the floors are done.

::

Suddenly, just like that, I am at peace with her name. Actually, I think I love it. It was the name we had agreed on early on in the pregnancy, before we knew for sure she was a girl. After all the worry and upset, it just feels right. All the anxiety and confusion that was swirling around has settled.

I look back at the last month and observed to my best friend that I’m pretty sure the entire freak-out was misdirected anxiety and emotional distress caused by Devin’s birthday. How else do you explain why I was literally hysterically bawling about the name decision 3 days before his birthday, and then very nearly at peace with it the day after? I was very calm about his birthday. Only the day before his birthday did I start crying at all about it, about him not being here – and it was just a sad few tears.

And my best friend basically said – in much nicer words, of course – “Well duh.”

Oh man, I don’t know what baby Kate is doing in there today but I feel positively ill. I woke up feeling great, sat up with my computer, got some kicks to the ribs like usual. So I got up, puttered around, got some food, watched some TV. It was there on the rocking chair that I started feeling very… not good. Not contractions, definitely not contractions. At first I thought I had to go to the bathroom, but that didn’t work very well. I took the dog for a walk around the block in the hopes that would sort things out. Nope. Still feeling kind of like I need to go to the bathroom, but now my belly hurts on top of that, and my lower back is feeling achy.

So I drew a bath and layed in it for a while – that felt a little better. While laying there I started feeling around my belly. That’s when I noticed she was entirely below my belly button, no legs up high like they have been. Plus I felt a hard spot across, culminating in something – a foot? a knee? – on my right side. Lots of firmness below the belly button – and very uncomfortable when I press on things, as if I’m pressing on body parts that are in turn pressing on my internal organs. Like my bladder. And my bowel. And every so often I’d feel a stab in one of those internal organs. I’m also getting random punches/kicks to the cervix. All I could think was, girl, WTF are you doing?! It almost felt like she’d turned transverse again, wedged sideways and squished up against everything down low. Not impressed, not impressed at all.

I’m laying down and she apparently has flipped back over to face outwards and I’m getting kicks on my right side, so she’s probably not transverse – but everything still aches bad down below. I’m wondering if it’s a combination of her position and me still needing to go to the bathroom. Or maybe she’s dropped. Or maybe it’s just one of those days. Whatever it is, it hurts. I’m back in bed and thinking I’m going to stay here for a while.

Later: Well I really don’t know where she is now. I just felt hiccups for the first time from her, and it was on my upper right. And after all that pressure earlier today, it very well could have been her flipping to breech. But I’m still feeling her limbs (whichever they are) pushing into my ribs and kicking out all over on my right side, just like normal. I don’t get any big kicks down low. Sooo… I’m confused. I have an appointment with my midwife on Tuesday so I’ll ask her what she thinks. Not that I’m concerned about her position for birth, it’s still very early, but I like to know where she is!

A question I get asked more frequently than I feel I ought to is, “Now that you’re having a baby, what are you going to do with the dogs and cats?” And I blink and say, “Nothing!” Well, it’s not nothing exactly – but we’re certainly not getting rid of any of them! If such time comes that we have a serious conflict on our hands then we’ll handle it appropriately, but that’s not something we are anticipating.

We do however have some plans in place for getting everyone ready for the changes.

Our fence is getting finished before the baby is born, not so that we can “put the dogs out” but so that they have a play space to get some energy out, and so that I won’t have to leash them both up every day and take them out to go potty (which I can only imagine would be nearly impossible with two dogs and a baby – it’s hard enough with two dogs and being pregnant!). The dogs are both crate-trained and are used to being crated during the day since currently we both work. They may or may not continue to be crated while Den is at work, me at home alone with the baby – that really depends on how good their behavior is. If they’re obnoxious and I’m at wit’s end, they’ll be crated for everyone’s sanity until Den is home to help manage the zoo.

Neither the cats nor the dogs will be allowed in the baby’s room. Mostly this is because of the fur issue. I’d really love to keep her crib and clothes as furless as possible – which, yes, I know is impossible in a house with pets. But I’d really prefer it if the cats don’t sleep in the crib and the dogs don’t try taking off with dirty diapers. We’ll either be keeping her door closed or be putting up a tall, swing-open babygate in the doorway.

As for expectations, they’ve all seen kids before, though they’ve never been around them for any length of time. The cats don’t seem to mind kids at all, in fact Jojo was “playing” with my niece (22 months old) last time she was over – he was jumping on his cat tree and running towards and away from her in some mad game of tag. She thought it was hysterical. (And so did I, actually. I’ve never seen him do that before!) Merlin was a little shy towards her until he realized that she’s nice, human, and – score! – closer to his level than an adult human. So he was loving on her after a while, much to her delight. Of course if any kid gets too rough or overbearing the cats both show disgust and leave. We have one room babygated off and furniture that they can jump on, and they know just to leave the area and go somewhere the irritating one can’t reach.

The dogs have differing opinions. Zeeke LOVES kids. He thinks they are absolutely awesome and the few times we’ve had relatives with kids over for picnics Zeeke shines in absolute joy. Unfortunately he’s also 95lbs and can knock the little ones over pretty easily – so that will be our biggest issue, I think. He just doesn’t realize that he’s big. Zeeke, being a German Shepherd, is also highly protective of anything of “his.” Once the baby becomes a part of our pack we have no doubt he’ll be watching over her like a hawk, making sure that we all treat her right. He’s already started hovering over me – he’s the only one of our four who has noticed that something is up with me. Since I got pregnant – and this happened both times – he has been sleeping near me, checking on me, and just in general being the watchdog.

Zoe is terrified of all strangers, so there’s really no test for this one – she treats all strangers, adult and children alike, as “scary, bad, must-go-away-now-OMG.” She takes a long time (weeks, months) to warm up to people, so she’ll likely be totally avoiding the baby for a while until she figures out that it’s “ours.” A newborn is pretty non-threatening, doesn’t move or anything, so I figure by the time the kid is mobile Zoe will have adjusted just fine. Zoe is also our resident blond and her thought processes tend to follow the track of, “That’s interesting, will you play with me now? Oh look, a shiny thing!” She’s easily amused, easily occupied, and while she needs some attention she’s also perfectly fine playing with a toy for hours or just sleeping next to me.

Of course one of the most important things will be teaching Kate how to treat the animals. I think it will be invaluable to have her grow up with pets, to gain an early sense of compassion for other creatures, to realize that we are caretakers and we need to treat them well. I really hope to impart to her a real sense of responsibility towards all beings.

::

One of the big things we have on our to-do list for getting the house ready for a baby is to have all the hardwood floors redone. Our house is small, so it’s only three rooms – both bedrooms and the living room – and a hallway, but that consists of 3/4 of the main floor. This house was built in the early 50’s and it has seemed to us that floors have never been redone; they are terribly stained and have no protective finish on them at all. (Tell me how fun that was when I was potty-training Zoe!) The floors are just one of the things that Needs To Get Done, but it’s a large undertaking. Of course in the meantime we haven’t bothered with any furniture in the baby’s room. No sense putting something together just to take it apart and move it out! So I’ve sat and waited. Devin’s crib waits, disassembled, in a storage room (we never got to the point of setting up the nursery for him, so I have truly never seen it whole and complete).

Friday Den came home from work and told me he’s contacted the flooring guy and it will all be getting done on Wednesday. This coming Wednesday. Mere days away. I am so unbelievably thrilled! I really can’t imagine this house with shiny, bright, new-looking floors. And the thought of truly being able to put together the baby’s room has me giddy.

My next thought was how on earth Den was going to move out all of our furniture before Wednesday – and where he’s going to put everything. But then, I guess that’s not my problem… he’ll figure it out somehow. We’re going to have to live in the basement for a few days while it all cures, so I sure hope he finds a way to get the mattress down there – you can see where my priority is!

::

For those interested, I’ve uploaded a video I took of baby Kate kicking. It seems smaller in the video than it looks in person, but it still shows how she shakes it up on a daily basis!

Wednesday evening was supposed to be the monthly pregnancy-and-babies-after-loss support group at a local hospital, but it ended up being just me and the coordinator. Since we know each other pretty well we just went out for tea instead of sitting in a meeting room at the hospital. It was a lovely little coffee shop, dark and buzzing with college students with laptops. She and I sat there, her with her tea and me with my hot chocolate, talking for nearly 2 hours about dead babies, pregnancy and newborns. What people on the outside don’t get when I talk about “support groups” is just how wonderful it is to talk to someone who has been in your shoes. We didn’t sit and cry – we laughed.

I drove home feeling at peace, grateful for knowing all the different people I do, so many wonderful people. I grew up very isolated – my own choice, and that of the depression and anxiety. Now my life feels so full. I have friends of every kind, I have family all around us, I have coworkers, and of course I have all of you online (not something I would ever discount!). My life has turned out pretty amazing in so many ways.

::

In talking with a friend we mentioned how the anxiety after a loss is so interesting, how much it’s like a black hole. I go through my day constantly repeating to myself, everything’s okay, everything’s normal. I’m handling it all well so far, I’m able to enjoy the good things and laugh at the discomforts. The baby hasn’t given me much reason to worry, she’s so active. But there are moments… moments where the thought sparks, when she hasn’t kicked much in a while, when my memory travels too far back to the wrong mental snapshot. Those moments take my breath away. I can feel it reaching out, sucking me in, hammering at the door. It’s a slippery slope. I worry that once I go “there,” once I lose my calm, I’m not so certain I can get back out. So I constantly throw up a mind block and just refuse to go there. Everything’s okay, everything’s normal, and I’m not going to let myself get sucked in by the fear if I can help it. I’m doing well, so far. But I’m never sure what tomorrow will bring.

::

When I got home that night I layed in bed and baby Kate woke up from a long nap. I told Den so he could put his hand on my stomach and he got to feel all kinds of kicks and rolls and pushes. He kept jumping in surprize, looking at me with a startled look on his face. I just laughed. He was so thrilled she did all that for him – he never got to feel any of the big movements of Devin’s, just a kick here and there. Devin liked to hide from people and only came out in the quiet, just for me. Kate is thankfully very different. I’m just so thrilled that he gets to experience more for himself this time. He needs that, too.

He’s been telling his friends and coworkers how “crazy” his daughter is, a big grin permanently stuck on his face.

::

I’ve been getting more BH contractions over the past few weeks – not to the point that it’s concerning, but I still stop and make mental note when it happens. Some days I’ll get one every hour for a few hours in a row. Some days I don’t get any. I’ll mention it to my midwife on Tuesday, but I’m pretty sure she’s going to tell me it’s normal, it’s fine, just make sure they don’t become more frequent and rhythmic. I have been making sure to drink water and resting often – they happen even when I’m just sitting there at work, doing nothing. It feels like my uterus practicing. But I still sometimes get little flashes of worry that it’s doing something it shouldn’t. But then I don’t want anyone doing cervical checks unless it’s necessary, either.

My bones pop more often and it’s getting harder and harder for me to lean forward – putting on socks is starting to make me grunt – but still, all in all, I’m in very good shape. Other than the major backache I got from that hike earlier in the week – but that was my stupidity! Normally my lower back is only slightly achy, but not bad at all. My wrists haven’t been bothering me lately, the foot and calf cramps have really slowed down to very infrequent inconveniences, my boobs don’t ache. I get some cervical twinges when Kate pokes me down there, but it’s brief. My tailbone aches if I sit back on it too long, but in most cases I can avoid that. I have no swelling. I sleep beautifully (I get up once a night to go pee, then fall right back asleep).

Of course as I’m writing about all the physical ailments I am not having Kate stretches out into my ribs and I have to bolt upright and press down on her feet to help me breathe. LOL

::

I am so torn. I love pregnancy, and it apparently loves me (after the first trimester). I love beyond words feeling a baby move in my belly, I love sharing my body with this new little being. My discomforts are few and my enjoyments are plenty. I like being the pregnant lady at work. I like the anticipation and the planning. The thought of being “just me” in my body once more makes me quite sad.

But at the same time I’m counting down the weeks this time in a way that I never did with Devin. I love this, but that anxiety I mentioned sits there, too. Neither Den nor I, for all our planning and excitement, can actually picture bringing home a live baby. It’s not that we don’t want to – we simply can’t. It doesn’t feel real, and won’t until she is in our arms. We’re holding our breath, waiting to see. Among ourselves we still say “if everything works out…” And that part I am eager to move on from. I am desperate to have her here, safe, breathing. I want so badly to see her being held in her daddy’s arms, to know that she’s okay and that she’s really truly staying with us.

My plan at this point is not to be induced. I really want to let my body go into labor on its own and see this thing through the way I never got a chance to with Devin. It’s just a waiting game – and I have a feeling it is going to feel like a very long wait.

And any time you feel the pain, Hey Jude, refrain
Don’t carry the world upon your shoulders
For well you know that it’s a fool who plays it cool
By making his world a little colder

I am a little bit of an emotional trainwreck this pregnancy. I felt so smug during Devin’s pregnancy that obviously pregnancy hormones don’t affect me very much – oh, I had my days, but no more than usual. But this time? This time I kind of feel like I’m on a bungee cord and I keep being snapped out over a canyon. Now I can’t rightly tell if it’s the hormones running wild, if it’s the previous loss, or maybe it’s just me – at this point it’s pretty hard to separate things out into neat little boxes of emotion. When I get upset I tend to get upset in a sobbing, losing-my-grip kind of way. And it is always over something that is most certainly not a major disaster. I end up feeling slightly foolish and more than a little disoriented. I mean, really, if these little things are the worst things I have to worry about right now then I’m not doing bad at all.

::

Little darling, it’s been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it’s been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it’s all right

I would say that from what I have observed with my friends that it is a normal in your second pregnancy to fear that you won’t love the baby as much as you did your first. I’d say this is especially true of those of us who don’t have a baby here with us, just memories that – as memories do – seems so pure and perfect. You are so desperate for a baby to love, to fill that void that grief now lives in – but at the same time you are so very scared that the new baby will fill that void. How could anyone else live up to the standards that your baby set… but what if you forget? It’s a path full of shadows and surprizes.

I can say is that I love my daughter more than I thought possible – as her own person, as a thing separate from my son. I expected to feel moments of confusion, of deja vu, of thinking I was pregnant with Devin again… but it never happened. For all that this pregnancy has been similar to my first one it has been a very different journey. I am a different person now than when I was pregnant with Devin. I still mourn that, I still mourn who I was, but who I am now isn’t bad either. And this child is different, too. Maybe it’s a lot of projection and anticipation, but her patterns, her movements, they’re all so different from Devin’s. She’s made the distinction clear from the start.

I miss my baby boy as much as ever – he will always leave a hole that cannot be filled. Every kick I feel from my daughter gives me joy and yet reminds me of what I have lost. I don’t take as much time to be sad anymore, however, because I have something so good and happy to spend my time on – and I choose to remember him by celebrating her. I frequently go through all the pictures and files I kept from him, comparing and remembering. I feel like being pregnant again has helped me remember those times without the stabbing pain of something lost and unable to be found. The only thing I have not done yet is read my journal entries from that first pregnancy; I wrote with such innocence, and that is something I have not and cannot get back.

Having a little girl has taken some getting used to, after the time with Devin spent anticipating a boy. I was ready to let him go, but I don’t think I was ready to let go the idea of a boy. Now I find myself getting used to all the pink, slowly relaxing into my new role. It is different, certainly, and I still have my moments in stores when I turn left instead of right – I still stop at a cute boy outfit, lightly touch it and whisper how cute it is, then turn my back and walk away before the tears start. At the same time I’m looking forward to having a little girl. I think about seeing her, my little girl, alive and being held in her daddy’s arms, and my heart fills with joy.

(Her baby bedding)

Now that Devin’s birthday is over and my emotional stress has receded I think I have decided on a name. I spent a lot (A LOT) of time thinking about it, but realized that my first instinct/choice is usually the right one, at least for such emotional decisions such as this. Denis did a lot of reassuring and cajoling during my many freak-outs, but his opinion was very clear: he was totally fine with whichever of the two names we had previously come up with, and was completely unwilling to consider anything else. (Both names have been talked about and decided on over the last two years.)

Her name is Kate – officially Katherine Elizabeth. (Our second choice name will be used if we ever have another girl.)

It still scares me, a little, to commit to a something as important as a name, but I don’t think it will ever feel not-scary. It feels like such a huge responsibility, and I’m obviously getting overwhelmed by that. I think I just need to trust in my gut feelings and just go with it.

I think Den will be happy to be able to call her by name. He must get so frustrated by my indecision on things! (But thankfully he is very patient with me!)

EDIT: Well Den and I apparently completely disagree about nicknames so at this point I give up. I am calling her Kate.

::

Baby is rockin’ the belly this evening. She is not constantly active, mostly just chill. I can feel her feet moving around on my right side, just under my ribs (she is getting dangerously close). The lump slides left to my belly button, then later slides back again. Silence. And then BOOM BOOM BOOM! My belly shakes side-to-side like a mini earthquake, from the force of her kicks. Then quiet once again. Sometimes gentle little pokes before another good, hard kick. A couple of times today I have had a large, firm object poking out indignantly – a bum one time, another I think it was legs – long, with round, moving ends. And now she is quiet again. She must have worn herself out!

I am not really the “go-getter” type. I am not highly motivated, I do not exercise regularly, I do not feel like I can’t sit and do nothing. In fact, sitting and doing nothing is one of my favorite pastimes. So when I come home on a gorgeous, bright, relatively warm day and announce to husband that we are taking the dogs! For a walk! In the park! it is somewhat surprizing. So we leashed them up and hopped in the truck…

… where Zeeke started flipping out frantically. He has car anxiety. He loves getting in the vehicle… just doesn’t like the whole movement thing. He starts off whimpering and within 2 minutes is letting off an ear-piercing bark and pacing, pawing at windows and doors. “Oh yes,” we said to each other, “THIS is why we never take them anywhere.” By the time we got to the park – a full 5 minutes away – our nerves were already pretty frazzled.

And then we discovered… mud. And a little bit of snow/ice, too. There were parts of the trail that were lovely to walk, let the dogs sniff around, but most of the time I spent looking at my feet, either trying not to get sucked into a big squish of mud or trying not to slip on the mud/ice. Denis held my arm for a couple of parts, just in case.

By the end I was dragging. I don’t know how long it took us to do the loop, half an hour? But my plodding became slower and slower and turned into more of a waddle. “I’m having trouble walking so slow,” Den said to me. “I’m having trouble walking,” I grunted. My belly ached heavily, my back ached. Ever noticed that when pregnant it always kinds of feels like you’re walking downhill? Because of the weight of the belly, leaning back slightly to adjust, it all just sat right on my lower spine.

Back to the truck where the dogs jumped in. We have an SUV, we put them in the cargo area – which is carpeted, of course. Muddy footprints everywhere. And apparently Zoe felt that was not enough, because she immediately jumped into the back seat, causing us both to scream, “Get back! GET BACK!! OFF!!” So, yes, a lot of dirt. We need to get one of those metal grates to keep them in the back. (We had one, once upon a time, but it broke.)

It is now two hours since we got home and my lower back hurts. All I can think about is having my chiropractor lean on my tailbone to stretch it out. I’ve been trying to stretch it out myself, but to little avail. The ligaments on the side of my belly are really achy, too, but thankfully that part eases tremendously when I sit or lay down.

So apparently I am a lot more pregnant than I think I am. I really didn’t expect it to feel that hard to go for a walk in the park, but it feels like I just hiked up a mountain. I get over-confident because day to day I don’t feel it very much – but, as I said in the beginning, I am not fond of activity.

I wanted to respond to my friend Virginia’s comment about kick counts, but I realized that my reply would be way too long for a comment. I also thought it was something I should mention here.

My midwives have asked me to do kick counts this time, because of the previous stillbirth. They did not mention kick counts when I was pregnant with Devin. I’m not entirely sure if they think it’s something medically useful, or if it’s something that they suggest for those of us who are a little bit more paranoid than your average pregnant woman. Either way it is something I am doing.

The thing is, kick counts might have saved Devin. It very well might not have – he was probably pretty oxygen deficient at that point, given how long his cord had been compromised. But had I noticed his distress earlier they might have gotten him out, maybe. At the very least his death would have been discovered sooner than it was.

My last week of pregnancy remains pretty clear to me, or at least some parts of it. I know that on Thursday night – a week before I was induced – Denis mentioned that the baby had been really quiet that day. I felt a shock at this because I hadn’t really noticed, but then started to sweat a little when I thought about it. He had been really quiet all day – really quiet. I got some juice to drink, I layed on my left side, I poked and prodded my belly. And in response he did kick me – but only a couple of times. The next day, when I was at work, he was very active, to the point that I remarked to a coworker that he was going crazy in there. Me in my naivete took that as reassurance that the previous day’s lack of movement was nothing. I promptly forgot about the whole thing – and, indeed, got wrapped up in my life so that over the next few days I didn’t notice the complete lack of kicks.

After the fact, after he had died, after he was born, after I started reading and talking to other loss-mamas, I started thinking about what could have happened. If I had noticed that Thursday night that a couple of kicks was not normal. Or the next day, if I had been aware that his hyper-activity was not normal. He was extremely consistent up until that point. Those two days he was alive, but something was wrong. And then he was gone.

That’s what kick counts do. They’re not a measure of “are you alive in there?” but rather a means of evaluating what “normal” is. Some people have very active babies, some have very quiet babies. It’s a change in the pattern that is of concern, that could show a sign of distress.

Now I agree, it is far from perfect, but it’s better than nothing. Every day I time how long it takes her to make 10 distinct movements – not just kicks. I try to do them when she is most active, which is not always at the same time every night (it’s usually when I sit/lay back after eating dinner). I also make note of what her overall movement has been like over the day. I have a pretty good sense by now of what her normal pattern is, but writing it down and having some solid record to refer back to is invaluable to me. It’s much easier to shrug something off when it’s just in your head – it’s something more tangible when it’s written down in front of you. It can also help convince a nurse/doctor that there is cause for concern if you ever do feel like something is wrong, it gives weight to your concerns.

So I do that all and hope very much that she never gives me reason to worry.

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Also, belly pics are now up to date on the page. Just thought I’d mention it. ;)