The diaper service called this afternoon to confirm that they’re dropping off our first order next week.  NEXT WEEK.  WE WILL HAVE DIAPERS IN OUR HOUSE IN ONE WEEK.

Seriously?  Who decided that I was ready to be a mother?!  I guess technically it was me making that decision, 9 months or so ago.  But still!  What the fuck.  We’re going to have a BABY and we’re going to be in charge of keeping him alive.  All the time!  Every day!  FOREVER.

I may or may not be slightly freaking out.

I have been getting check-ups on the regular the past 2 weeks.  Two non-stress tests, one doctor visit and one midwife visit every week.  Plus Kaiser loaned me a blood pressure cuff, so I’m now monitoring my BP three times a day.  There are a ton of people watching over me and this little baby, making sure both of us are chugging along like we’re supposed to.  The consensus is now that I do not have pre-eclampsia (YAY), but I do have gestational hypertension (high blood pressure due to the pregnancy).  So it looks like I’ll still have to birth in the hospital, but it’s way less serious than we thought.  This is good!  The hospital we’ll go to has midwives on staff, and my midwife will be coming with me as my doula, so I’ll still get the midwifery model that I wanted – we’ll just be near doctors in case everything goes to hell.

I hope everything doesn’t go to hell.

I’m working from home full-time now, and it’s AWESOME.  No more commuting, I can snack and nap throughout the day, I work in tank tops & my underwear.  At the end of today, it took me all of 45 seconds to go from working to sitting on the couch with a popsicle.  Not too shabby.

I’m on pseudo-bedrest (that’s what I’m calling it) where I’m staying home and resting as much as possible, although still going to pre-natal yoga and taking a few easy walks in the evenings.  I’m soaking my feet at night.  I’m taking way more supplements than I thought existed.  I’m charting everything I consume.  100oz of water, 100g of protein, every day.  Greens, eggs, cucumbers, dark chocolate (woo hoo), all the right things to keep my blood pressure down and to continue creating a tiny super genius.  I’m listening to hypnobirthing audio tapes, and creating a sense of peace and calm around the upcoming birth.  I’m focusing pretty much all my energy these days on growing this baby and preparing to introduce him to the world.

This evening I ate a watermelon while sitting calmly, and realized how much I’ve changed my lifestyle in the past few months to get ready for the kid.  And I just felt so happy.  That I’m lucky enough to be able to lie around eating watermelon and dreaming about a baby.  That I have an awesome husband who is taking such good care of me and who is likewise thrilled about our upcoming adventure.  That I’m as healthy as I am, and that I know what needs to be done for the less healthy aspects of pregnancy so that it doesn’t affect me or the baby.  I’m just so happy that this has all turned out how it has, and that it appears to be continuing nicely.

And somehow that coexists with my HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS I’M GOING TO HAVE A BABY IN A MATTER OF DAYS freak out.  I’m not sure how, but I’m rolling with it.

Hello, pre-eclampsia.  You were NOT invited to this party.

So, I was in Boulder.  With a crazy high blood pressure that got me stuck in a hospital.  They kept me overnight to monitor me, and Saturday evening gave me the news that I have “mild pre-eclampsia.”  I had a few too many high blood pressure readings, and 325mg of protein in my urine (the cut off is 300).  The doctor was incredibly nice and informative, and told me she would happily release me from the hospital as long as I promised to get the hell out of Colorado.  Since pre-eclampsia can get much worse (hello, liver & kidney failure!  hello, stroke & coma!) really quickly, if I stayed for the second week of training and something happened, I would end up having my baby in Boulder.  Without the Lumberjack.  No fucking thanks.

So I went back to the hotel, cried myself to sleep, woke up Sunday morning and flew home.  Where I proceeded to cry on the Lumberjack for a few more hours.

Up next?  More crying!  We saw our midwife Monday, and learned the heartbreaking news that I can’t birth there anymore.  Since I have an official diagnosis of pre-eclampsia, they can’t let me deliver there.  I have to go to a hospital.  And I KNOW that the goal is a baby.  I KNOW that I need to be healthy.  I KNOW that hospital births happen all the time and are fine and everyone gets out alive and un-traumatized and above all else, I know how lucky I am to be able to be pregnant in the first place.  I get that, I really do.

bed rest = cat naps

But fuck, I am so disappointed and sad.  I was born on a futon in the living room.  I have grown up proud of that story, and have always known that I would give birth the same way.  I’ve been meeting with my midwife for months, and LOVE her, and have established an amazing bond.  I’ve been getting all my pre-natal care in the actual room where I would give birth – I’ve had so many amazing experiences in there, I’ve seen the Lumberjack’s face light up about our baby in there, I’ve been filling that room for MONTHS with love and energy, knowing that those are the walls that will surround us when our marriage becomes a family.

I know everything’s going to be fine, but it’s not going to be what I hoped for.  And I’m just so SAD about.  However, yes, I understand that this is an excellent introduction to parenting.

So, now I’m on fucking bedrest.  Working from home, monitoring my pee & blood pressure daily.  Eating 100g of protein daily, drinking 100oz of water.  Keeping track of everything I consume, lying down as much as possible, etc.  You better believe I’m going to guilt-trip the fuck out of this kid one day.