I love being a mom. I don't love being really pregnant in the summer heat. I don't love teething.
Truth is I have never been a fan of the intense heat and humidity of summer. This is probably the effects of pregnancy brain or getting older, but I swear it wasn't this hot in Ohio this early in the summer when I was little. I can remember spending most days at camp, in the pool, or in the sprinkler. But the really hot weather came in August. Since I was usually in some form of water, it didn't bother me that much.
Having a 2-year-old means going to the park and doing other things outside that don't necessarily involve water, so I have started to feel like a participant in Survivor: Pregnancy Island. I gave up wearing my wedding ring over a month ago. It is on a gold chain that I can't even remember to wear all the time. (Maybe that is why I have been getting the strange looks: 8 1/2 months pregnant and no wedding band)
I try to remember to always have a snack and the stroller with me, so at the very least I can strap Tressel in for a few minutes and give myself a break from chasing after him when he wants to follow the older kids to one of the huge climbing trees. Apparently he thinks he is a proficient tree climber these days. I disagree. First, there is the issue that I feel it is necessary to climb after him to get him back down, which isn't a recommended form of exercise in your third trimester. Second, he isn't as good as he thinks, so there is a good likelihood of falling out and injuring himself. That would mean a trip to the ER with plenty of paperwork, and I'm trying to avoid the hospital until it is time for the Baby Duck's arrival.
I had my weekly non-stress and OB appointment yesterday. Baby Duck once again performed as desired and had a dance party. We had spent the morning at a friend's house for a pool party, so Tressel was passed out in the stroller. I was thankful for that because Mike arrived 10 minutes after we started the NST.
When we were walking to the room to see the nurse and OB, I was thinking about how differently I feel at these appointments than I did when pregnant with Tressel. I'm not naive to think this pregnancy is issue-free. One look at my stomach is a reminder with the full spectrum of bruise colors from the Lovenox. This time I don't have the sweaty palms when I am driving to my appointments. I don't cringe when my doctor opens her mouth that I am going to be reprimanded about my BP or weight. By the way, my BP was 115/80, and I have gained about 25 pounds.
All of that being said, I feel calmer. One of my girlfriends asked what I thought the big difference was. I speculated that it is the group of women who have become my close friends through the parents group I joined when Tressel was 2 1/2 months old. It might be Tressel. It might be that I am more tired and just don't have the energy to be as anxiety-ridden.
That doesn't mean that I don't still look for signs that something might be going wrong. I just try to be grateful and thank God for the blessings I have: Mike, Tressel, pregnant with Baby Duck, my fertility doctor who initially tested and diagnosed me, my current OB and her team, and my friends and family.
That brings me to the big T. Little T has been dealing with the big T for the last couple of weeks. His second-year molars have been testing all of us. The first one came through about 2 weeks ago, and it was proceeded by a couple of nights of disrupted sleep. I think Mike and I have grown too accustomed to real sleep after Tressel's first 18 months.
Sunday night of this week, Tressel was awake 7 times. Screaming. Yelling his teeth hurt. I suspected when we were doing his bedtime routine, so we gave him some Motrin. He was awake for the first time an hour later. That didn't bode well for the rest of the night. I ended up taking him to the ped's office in the morning just to make sure it hadn't started another ear infection. The really bad teething has coincided with the start of ear infections three times. Of course everything was clear. I was glad because I didn't want him to be sick, but I was hoping for a magic potion that would ensure a good night's sleep Monday night. The ped verified that one part of the second second-year molar had started to poke through, and we should add Orajel to the mix.
The sleeping has been better. Improving every night. I still don't love teething.
