Last post for a little while

I've got a long list of things to accomplish before my wee one gets here. If he does happen to arrive earlier than expected, then I'm royally screwed. *face palm*

I know it is all I ever wanted and wished for, however I'm incredibly nervous to become a mother. Childcare courses in school, babysitting, nothing prepares you for what is to come. Infertility only prepared me to expect the unfavorable outcome. Hopefully, I will be a good mother. Although my husband seems to believe our son will end up living in a bubble, I will be so overprotective. Can you blame me? It took quite a while and a lot of tears shed to achieve him, excuse me for being a little overbearing!

Also, today my husband will be moving me up to my father's house while he finishes the discharge. He will be moved up North with me, before Thanksgiving. I feel rather guilty of leaving him to deal with the move, then again he should be fine. The military has movers that pack up your items and move them to your next destination. Note, I've already taken the liberty of packing my clothing and undergarments. I cannot stand the thought of strangers packing my knicker drawer. The catch is we will be without our bed for a week, and have to stay at his parents on an uncomfortable mattress in the guest room. I guess we all have to make sacrifices.

That is all for now. Time to end this chapter in the South and as an Army wife.

Time to face reality

I move in the next 2 days and my husband will be following later this month. I am very excited, but overwhelmed at the same time. There's setting up the nursery, finishing up other tasks, our big move, flu season, my son's birth, plus holidays on top of that. Oh and my father is starting mini home renovations, as in painting and carpet installation. He has such great timing, when he has lived in his home for over 2 years now!

I don't want anything for Christmas this year other than to keep my sanity!

Maybe I'm just too sensitive?

Before SIL (I like) left for overseas, she put together a bag of secondhand clothing from her son. Which was very kind of her, as they are going to be about the same size being both born in December. I certainly don't expect anything from SIL, I hate...or would I take anything she is offering.

However, a good half of the baby clothing had obvious food and formula stains. It took a little work and soaking with potent baby stain remover, but I got the stains out. Now I may be wrong, but I would think if you're going to pass on clothing at least make sure it is in presentable condition. I don't even donate any items to local charity shops, unless they're in good used condition (no stains, rips, etc).

Now I'm not snooty in receiving secondhand clothing, as majority of his clothing I bought at a consignment shop. While I believe the gesture was nice, she should've taken the time to get the stains out or leave them out of the pile. When she was expecting my niece, I attended her baby shower and bought over $100 worth of clothing and baby items. I certainly don't expect the same in return; I am fully capable of providing for my son. It's just that I wish she would have gave the clothes a second look.

Pointless rant, that I had to get off my chest.

Bitchy cow once again

I'm guessing it's a mixture of hormones and being anxious, is what is causing the snappy cow in me to come out. That and my husband has been snappy lately due to his lack of sleep. If only he would cut out the caffeine before bed and playing of his stupid computer games, he'd probably get a better nights sleep. He also has the option of taking sleeping pills, which do tend to work. Not my problem.

Although I will miss him dearly, perhaps this 25ish days apart will really help our marriage. I've got enough stress in dealing with final preparations for our son, and he has enough on his plate in finalizing his medical discharge, also our move. If I were to deal with both stresses, I would either go mad or in early labour. I certainly cannot allow that to happen. DH better put his big boy trousers on!

My husband got his ratings for his discharge!

Yayyyyyyyyy, and he will be done before our son is here! Thank god, we don't have to raise him in this horrible flat.

He got his paperwork to review and sign today. Then he waits for an appointment with Veterans Affairs. Another appointment to turn in his gear, and then waiting on his release papers.

Although, crazy pregnant woman panic mode has set in....I've got now until next Wednesday to pack up what I can, that will not be used by my husband for the next month. In which if I left it up to DH, stuff would get broken. Men!

Once again, rhetorical questions of which no one has the answer!

Why is it that when you're struggling with IF time just drags (and seemingly stands still)? And if you do achieve a pregnancy, it's over before you know it?

Can't an infertile woman just hit pause on those 9 months and savor the bliss?!

Snappy cow alert!

I do not know what my problem is, but I am just so irritated lately. This morning I was on the phone with my mother for her to look for an item she may still have (the woman has hoarding tendencies) that I would like to use as a prop for newborn pictures. She got snappy with me saying I needed to be more concerned about stocking on sanitary napkins and newborn pictures can be worried about later. WTF?

Sanitary napkins I can get on my next shopping trip. I got to find a reasonably priced photographer, book them in advance, and that has time slots open after my son is born. Which will probably be the week before Christmas if he comes on time! If not, then I will wait till after. I'm fairly certain finding a photographer will be more challenging than throwing a damn pack of pads in a shopping trolley.

Then there's that site that shall remain nameless, that has been annoying me. I am by no means back on that site, but like to stalk third tri for some helpful information. Let me tell you, it's not the least bit informative. They're nothing but a bunch of whiny cows who moan about being overly emotional to being sick of being pregnant at 30 weeks, and that their pregnancy is so torturous. Get a grip!!! Please note, that these women who whine have no serious risks or complications with their pregnancy. Ironically those who do, you barely see any posts from them.

Which takes me back to when a fertile cow once told me that pregnancy is a difficult time and women suffer as compared to IF. No bitch, you're just weak. Suffering from IF for years still cannot be measured to pregnancy for 9 months.

From infertility to pregnancy: what doesn't change!

In no particular order:

1. Chocolate is still your friend. And McDonald's French fries (unless you're first tri, then it's vile). Actually, any drive thru establishment, restaurant, and takeaway still makes you feel better.

2. Stretchy jogging trousers or sweatpants are still a wardrobe staple around this time. 

3. You're still visiting that damn aisle with the pads, tampons, etc. to buy panty liners. Yeah, I leak enough to warrant wearing those. And you're going to have to abundance after labour because the witch is going to came back with a vengeance. 

4. You still check the crumpled toilet paper for blood!!

5. Your sex life is still lacking.

6. You still glare at pregnant women without realizing it. Especially those young mothers who look like they're barely out of secondary school still make you cringe.

7. Even though you're huge, men may hold open doors for you. But women with small, unruly children will still let them run smack dab into you. Don't expect an apologetic look. Not happening.

8. You still receive unsolicited advice from everything about vaginal birthing to BFing, to cloth nappies versus disposables, the list goes on. As usual, you continue to ignore such "helpful" advice.

9. You're still afraid of the future. This time you fear deformities, late term miscarriage, not taking to motherhood, stillbirth, and even SIDs. Your infertile mind still wants you to be prepared for the worst that could happen.

10. I still don't wish to talk about my current health status. With my IF diagnosis, I told some people but after a while stopped talking about it because no one seemed to care. Now with my pregnancy, I just don't feel it is anyone's business. Which still makes me wonder why other pregnant women are willing to give you every detail about their pregnancy. I guess I will never understand! 

Funny analogoy

Waiting nine months to meet your unborn baby, is like waiting for a man to call you back after a date. You try to occupy your time, but fall short with lack of activities.

Note: I sincerely hope no woman waits 9 months for a man to call. 5 days at the maximum.

Don't get me wrong I've been enjoying this pregnancy, as it may be my one and only. It's been truly a blessing I haven't had any complications. Out of all the dark, depressive, shitty days over the infertile years, you cannot wait for the day a long awaited dream comes true.

It's a good day!

Today is my last day of work. Yayyyyyyy! For the first time, I am actually going to work in a good mood. They're having a taco luncheon as my goodbye party. It's nice, as I won't have to pack a lunch. One workmate is bringing in some Jesus brownies. These brownies have a chocolate chip cookie baked in the middle. I see why they're so holy.

Sure, I'll be a little bored for the next month...but I get to be home with my husband and cook him dinners instead of relying on takeaway. I can also get some serious cleaning done, like scrubbing the kitchen floor with a toothbrush. Or some other crazy nesting compulsion.

Am I supposed to go barefoot?

The past couple of days my right foot has been swollen pretty badly. To the point of where none of my shoes fit, except my house slippers. I even had to wear them to work today.

So what in the world do I wear? I don't believe it's practical to buy a size larger shoe, that I will be wearing for all of 2 months. Now I understand the meaning of, "barefoot and pregnant".