Introducing . . .

Lucas Gregory H., born Thursday, May 24 at 12:24 p.m. He weighed in at a monstrous (for us, anyway) 6 lbs., 4 oz. and was 18 inches long. At today's doctor appointment he had already managed to shoot up to 6 lbs., 14 oz., so apparently breastfeeding is going better than I thought it was.

We are completely in love.

Edited to add: Apparently the lack of sleep is already catching up with me: Luke was born Thursday May 24, not May 22! Sheesh.

Go Time! (Almost)

Yesterday I had my nearly 38 week appointment. The little guy looked fine, passed his NST with a little help from the buzzer and did all the appropriate things as we watched him on ultrasound. My amniotic fluid level was, however, still a bit low, despite me drinking oh, I don't know, maybe 500 gallons of water since last Tuesday.

My doctor was unconcerned. "We can hardly call this 'low'," she said. "'Normal' is anything 9 or above, and you've been at 8.8 and 8.9 the past two weeks."

But she was forgetting two very important points. First, I am a lawyer by training, and second, I am very, very tired of being pregnant. I spent the next few minutes pleading my case. Then I spent the next few minutes after that throwing myself on her mercy. Ok, fine. I was begging. A little.

"Well," she said, "I suppose an argument COULD be made for bumping up the delivery based on the amniotic fluid. But it's a pretty weak argument . . . are you sure you don't want to be pregnant for another week and a half?"

Needless to say, I was sure. So in the end, we compromised. She suggested this coming Thursday, May 24, IF there was an opening available. If not, we'd stay on for June 1. She called scheduling. I held my breath. And yes -- there was an opening! So, THIS THURSDAY morning I will report to the hospital at 9:30 a.m. with the C-section scheduled for 12:00. Baby boy will be 38w1d old, which is 5 full weeks older than the twins were at birth, so we are hopeful (and prayerful!) that he will be just fine.

Now, of course, I am scared shitless and doubting my decision. Am I really ready for this? How on earth am I going to take care of three kids age 25 mos. and younger? What happens when G goes back to work? (He has two weeks off). I'd counted on his grandma (who is very young and spry, seriously!) being available, but she and her husband have a camping trip planned for the second week of June. That should've been fine, as G would've still been off then, but now his vacation is starting a full week early, so that's the week he will be going back. That didn't even cross my mind yesterday as I was in my get-this-baby-out-asap frenzy, but it's too late to do anything about it now. I mean, will I be physically able to do this alone by then? Last time, my C-section recovery was very fast and very smooth, but I didn't have any kids or any babies at home for the first four weeks afterward. Oh my. I think I may be starting to hyperventilate.

And I keep staring at P & E, tearing up, thinking about how these are the very last days of our life as a foursome. They've been such special, amazing years for me, yet P & E aren't even going to remember them. At just over two years old now, they won't ever recall a life with no baby brother tagging along behind them. It's just weird to think about.

I'm just so overwhelmed right now. So full of love and fear and excitement and worry and nostalgia and hope. And all that in with the crazy pg hormones at max capacity and, well, I'm a little bit of a basket case. A happy one, don't get me wrong. But a basket case all the same.

18 Days

Yup. 18 days until our newest little man is scheduled to make his appearance. On one hand, it's hard to believe, but on the other, I feel like I've been pregnant forever. I am so ready to have my boy in my arms instead of headbutting my bladder.

I had my nearly 37 week appointment today, and everything looked pretty good. In fact, for the first time, the nurse did not use that obnoxious buzzing noisemaker pressed against my belly in order to wake the young man enough to pass his NST. Only problem was my amniotic fluid was a tad low. Of course that freaked me out, but the NP assured me it was only "borderline", not horrible, and that I probably just needed to drink more. I was holding a water bottle at the time. She looked at it and said, "Four of those a day should do it." Four? That is 80 freaking ounces of water a day! Does she not realize that I am already peeing 24 times a day??? Argh. Then she added, "Try to get some milk and juice in on top of that." Good Lord. But, all for a good cause. I am now on my third bottle of the day.

I don't know this for a fact, but I suspect that, when I go for my next appointment a week from today, if the fluid is still running low they might go ahead and deliver him. I'll be nearly 38 weeks by then, and my doctor will be back in the office. (She is on vacation this week). I'm definitely going to take my husband and my suitcase to the appointment, just in case.

So for now it's just a waiting game. Luckily I have P & E to keep me more than occupied. Mother's Day with them yesterday was just incredible, and I couldn't stop thinking about how blessed I was. I really get to keep both of them, and now I get another one on top of it? Try telling THAT to the Heather of three years ago whose first IVF cycle had just been cancelled. She'd never, ever have believed it. She still doesn't, sometimes.

Uncharted Territory

35 weeks today. Can you believe it? Tomorrow I will be two full weeks more pregnant than I ever was with Peyton and Ethan. One more week until the high risk OB says I can stop taking my baby aspirin, because if my blood pressure creeps up after that point, delivering the baby should be perfectly safe and require no NICU stay. Did you hear that? NO NICU STAY!

I can hardly believe I've made it this far. I won't lie -- it's been a very long haul. After I had P & E, I used to daydream about maybe having another baby someday. It would be a singleton, I figured, and I would have a smooth and simple pregnancy along with a full term delivery. I would be all glowy and rosy, enjoying my status as a "regular," not high risk, mommy-to-be every single day. I would make sure the baby's carseat was installed before I went to the hospital to deliver him, confident that he would be coming home with me when I was released in two or three days time.

Well. It hasn't exactly gone that way. I mean, in part it has -- this pregnancy has been completely uneventful. Other than some trace blood in my urine at a couple appointments (which had disappeared by yesterday's) absolutely nothing out of the ordinary has occurred. My blood pressure has been fine, sometimes even good. The baby has consistently measured somewhere around the 50th percentile, and I've never had any reason to worry about his well being, as he has been very active since the first day I felt him move sometime around 17 weeks. And yet, I still sort of feel like I've blown it. I have NOT enjoyed this pregnancy and only partly because of all the vomiting and achiness and blah blah blah. No, for the most part, I haven't enjoyed the pregnancy because I've been freaking out the entire time. Rather than enjoying this wonderful surprise and the gift of a normal, routine pregnancy, I've spent pretty much every day waiting for the other shoe to drop. Now it's almost over, and I'm so relieved, but I also wish I could go back and give myself a swift kick in the ass. All this time spent worrying, and for what? Even if all the terrible things I obsessed about had happened, would the worrying have done any good? Of course not.

But I still think maybe it's not too late. I still have 4 weeks and 2 days to go until the little guy's scheduled appearance. We're putting the finishing touches on the nursery, and I did get all his clothes washed and hung because hey -- it looks like he should be able to come right home and wear them! The carseat is not installed yet, but it will be soon. Definitely before I leave for the hospital on the 1st. Because finally, with 30 days to go, I'm starting to believe that this might all work out.