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Archive for March, 2013

Oh, how quickly blogging can fall to the wayside, especially when life just sort of explodes into a frenzy. It’s been four months since my last entry. Here’s what we’ve been up to:

  1. We’re pregnant.
  2. We’re pregnant and my husband works 10 hours a day.
  3. We’re pregnant, my husband works 10 hours a day, and I’m home with a terrible-twos toddler.
  4. We’re pregnant, my husband works 10 hours a day, I’m home with a terrible-twos toddler, and I’ve taken on way to much freelance work that I can’t possibly ever get done.
  5. We’re pregnant, my husband works 10 hours a day, I’m home with a terrible-twos toddler, I’ve taken on way to much freelance work that I can’t possibly ever get done, and I’m rockin’ through my third cold of this pregnancy.

That’ll kill four months like nobody’s business! My pregnancy has been the biggest time sucker, probably the suckiest thing about being pregnant, in my Gemini-go-getter opinion. This time around, for whatever reason (age, next pregnancy etc.), my tiredness hasn’t gone away, not even at 17 weeks now. Not to mention, my first trimester fell smack-dab over Christmas, and poor Ned being gone from the house twelve hours a day, and working weekends. And he and I got head colds that lasted for weeks. December sucked!

Our other time sucker of this gestational period started around week 13, when spotting sent me to the midwives’ offices for an emergency ultrasound. The results of which were bonus pics of the baby, who is doing just fine, and the news that we’re dealing with placenta previa.

For those of you that do not know what placenta previa is (I didn’t), it’s when the placenta grows over the cervix, either completely or partially. This translates to: If the placenta doesn’t move on its own due to the expanding uterus, little baby has no exit. That can mean bedrest and an eventual c-section for the mom, and possible continued spotting.

For us it means “pelvic rest.” No exercise that raises the heart rate, no lifting heavy objects, no sex.

I’ve got be honest, this has done wonders for the development of my 2 ½ year-old Max. Mommy can’t pick him up much, so he’s learned to climb up the stairs using the railing, or crawl up while Mommy tosses a toy up the stairs for incentive. He rides on my lap and we sing the “Oompa Loompa” song as we scoot down. He’s heard the phrase, “that’s my big boy” so many times he says, “big boy, big boy” now.

Sadly, Ned hasn’t heard any such compliments in so long, it’s getting ridiculous. At 20 weeks we’ll have our big ultrasound, to see if the placenta has moved. But lately, when I’ve gone in for a checkup, his only question to me is, “Did you get a sex pass?”nosexjob

*sigh* No.

The no sex is a terrible thing to do to a pregnant woman. I mean really. Excess hormones. The insanely vivid dreams. Seriously, my dream self is whoring it up every night. My real self is almost ready to put on a habit.

Perhaps this is why I’ve been taking on all that extra work ….

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