Uh-Oh... x+24.2 is 7.1 heavier than 2009's 24wk

I feared going in for my appointment today; in fact, I've DREADED IT for weeks! At my last appointment, Doc said that I had gained 7.4 pounds since the previous month. (I thought that was a mistake, but she held the numbers in my file and I'm not good at remembering numbers.) When I questioned her about my weight (last time), she instructed me "Well, don't gain 7 pounds between every appointment."

Hmmm, interestingly enough, I gained ANOTHER 7.2 pounds, which she laughed was less than last month's gain of 7.4. Doc didn't seem concerned AT ALL. We compared it to my first pregnancy... when we first met her at our 24 week appointment. My current weight was still considerably LESS than my 2009 weight. 

I, however, was CRUSHED. 

Venting: Damn all those baked goods and delicious hors d'oeuvres over the holiday celebrations. Damn all those cravings to eat... sometimes just an hour after my last meal. Damn these varicose veins bulging from my left leg, as well as the fluid retention in that ankle. Damn this discomfort in my low back/hip region where I sometimes have to CRAWL to the bathroom in the middle of the night. And don't get me started on having to wear these stupid, but obviously helpful, support hose!

I thought my weight gain week-by-pregnant-week was comparable to last time. Mike assured me that it was fine; "afterall, look how good Sydney turned out!" BUT looking back on my blog, in early 2009, I felt concerned at 24 weeks when I had already gained 17.1 pounds – knowing that 25-35 is the recommended weight gain allowance.

During my appointment, I joked that I need to start wearing the same outfit to the doctor's appointments so that my clothes are at least consistent. Sassily, Mike said "Or wear LESS clothes." I laughed, but deep down - this weight gain makes me want to cry.

24.2 POUNDS! Horrified, I keep repeating the number to myself throughout the rest of the day. (I already know that Number 2 is scheduled to gain 6 ounces PER WEEK from here on out.)

Mike assures me "not to worry because it will all come off during breast feeding." (Yes, I "hope" that my body/MS will cooperate and that I will be able to do just that.)

Still, it makes me want to cry. (Hey, at least it doesn't make me want to over-eat. Right?)

:(

As we walked to our car, Mike announced "Despite knowing he's in there and normally moving around quite a bit, that's got to make you feel a little un-nerving when the nurse can't find the heartbeat." (Today, she struggled A LOT to find it - searching repeatedly on both of my sides, but eventually finding it right smack in the middle of my belly; while you lay there, however, it FEELS like an eternity.)

"I know." I replied. "Especially after she asked if I've been feeling a lot of fetal movements, that made me stop and think that he hasn't been super, super active today. Granted, I know he has periods of quiet, too. He just found a comfy place to sleep."

On a more positive note:

• Number 2's heart rate was good (144)

• my blood pressure was good

• my soccer ball-sized uterus measures right where it should 

• there were no traces of sugar or protein in my urine 

• Doc gave me a brochure on some exercises I can try - in hopes that it can ease some of my hip/back pain by strengthening my low back/hip/butt muscles. (The chiropractor has offered no such advice so, THIS is at least worth a try!) 

• my silly cough has been basically gone for about a week (YAY... finally!)

My next appointment (28 wk) tests for Gestational Diabetes and starts us going in every 3 weeks for regular appointments.

Deep breath. Sigh. It IS what it is. Regardless of my new weight complex, I grow anxious to meet Number 2 - who likes to remind me that he's living inside of my cozy uterus. AND just today, I informed Mike "I really LOVE being a mom!"

A little big guy, for sure

Weighing in 

Today, we went to breastfeeding support group and weighed in. Last time, January 6th, I believe Sydney weighed in at 19# 2 ounces so, I was a little surprised to discover that after all this time, he has gained next-to-nothing.... weighing 19# 5 ounces. And today, I was even more surprised that he geeked out on the scale, having his own mini-panic attack. (I'm not sure what THAT was all about?!?! We've done this for the better part of 7 months now... he shouldn't have a sudden fear of being laid upon a scale now.)

Then, the nursing student that was "trying to help" took too long to find our sheet (to log it) as I stood holding a naked baby - all the while hoping that he wouldn't pee on me - that I had forgotten what he weighed and had to attempt to lay him on the scale yet again. (The nurse assumed that the sheets were filed in alphabetical order, but they are NOT. I knew that I was the second-to-last sheet within a certain section so, wished I could have done it myself. I kept trying to tell her where our sheet was, but she wouldn't listen. And being that I am not a "numbers type of girl", I quickly forgot the specifics.) 

Thankfully, Sydney did NOT pee on me! (You always take a chance, you know... especially when you are in public and only have spare clothes for the baby along.)

When it was our turn to talk, the lactation consultants couldn't believe that Sydney is only 8 months old. They claimed that he doesn't have a "baby look" and that he looks like a little man. (Yep, yep, yep... we [started by Uncle Mike & Grandpa Olson] call him LITTLE BIG GUY.) They also determined that his standing and walking abilities make him advanced for his age, predicting that he will be walking on his own in no time. (I didn't mention to them that he LOVES to go UP the stairs already as well.) At breastfeeding, Sydney just keeps trying to keep up with all of the 10 and 11-month old girls.

As for the weight gain, or lack thereof, he is QUITE ACTIVE so, we need NOT worry.

Returning Home: Yay, Daddy's Back!

When we got home, after running a few errands, I was excited to see Mike's truck in the driveway (since he had been gone overnight to corporate seminars) and his smiling face greeting his family at the door. He helped me carry things in and was quick to break Sydney out of his carseat.

"Do you remember who I am?" Mike asked of his son.

Sydney smiled from ear-to-ear, showing off his bottom two chipmunk teeth.

"Yay, you DO remember!" he said as he collected a giant hug.

He looked at me. I looked at him. "I thought he was with you..."

Later in the evening, I went into the kitchen to check on dinner. As I stood in the kitchen, I had heard the pitter patter of Sydney crawling on the hardwood floors of the dining room towards me. Then, when I glanced on the kitchen floor, I noticed he was not there so, I peered into the dining room and then, into the living room.

Mike looked at me. I looked at him. "I thought he went into the kitchen to be by you." he says.

We quickly glance at the stairs to find  Sydney (proudly) on step #4. (Little stinker.)

Dancing machine

We keep catching Sydney "dancing" whenever he hears singing, a catchy jingle/commercial or music of almost any kind. Tonight, Sydney had pulled himself to a stand in front of the television and wiggled his little butt from side to side. Mike turned on a mexican music channel on tv and Sydney demonstrated these dancing skills. Mike turned the tv off and the dancing stopped. He turned the tv back on; and the dancing resumed. (Dang it... low battery in the video camera!!!)

I'm relieved that he doesn't dance like his mother... like a frog in the blender. :)

To bed with some bruises...

Around bedtime, Sydney had started to get fussy... part of that was because we kept blocking his path towards the stairs with our legs. In protest, he ended up banging his forehead on the floor with a loud THUMP before starting to cry. 

Needless to say, he went off to bed with some bruises tonight... as he had also bumped (and [very small] cut) his upper eyelid on the corner of our bedframe this morning.

It's a darned good thing that Mike keeps reminding me: 

BOYS GET BUMPS!