The double-digit countdown is on - a little more than 3 months till we welcome The Bean to our family! I'm 26 weeks along today, and still feeling pretty good. The belly is getting really, really large so it's beginning to get difficult to move around. I'm a week away from the most special trimester of them all: the third! That's when all the wonderful happenings start, like peeing yourself when you laugh, needing a crane to help you off the couch, and swelling up like nobody's business. Yep, can't wait till all that stuff starts happening. Savoring the last week of technically being in the "honeymoon trimester", although the 3-point turn I need to make to hoist myself out of bed in the morning indicates that I might be ahead of schedule.
Over the weekend, we traveled to High Point to celebrate Auntie Lauren and Uncle Bear's wedding and all the festivities that go along with that. We arrived on Thursday afternoon, and didn't sleep again until Sunday night. Parties on Friday and Saturday and unwinding on Sunday, with little respite in between. The Bean was front and center for all events, and elicited a lot of "I'm sorry you have to be pregnant in the summertime" type comments. Up until now, this hasn't been a big deal. As a matter of fact, in my last pregnancy, which also kicked off the 3rd trimester in the summer, wasn't so bad. But going to the North Carolina piedmont posed a bit of a different scenario. This is payback for my own 2-week tardiness in June, in South Florida in the early 80's. A quick apology to the woman that carried me and suffered through that mess - sorry Mom! Now I know what that may have been like. When the temperature is 90 degrees before 10 am and the humidity is so intense that your hair is wet before you even leave the house, it's going to be a tricky day. So four tricky days for me and The Bean. Which may or may not have resulted in a hormone-induced temper tantrum or two, but who's counting? The good news is we survived. The other good news is that my sister-in-law is officially Mrs. Jones, and couldn't have celebrated in more style. A beautiful ceremony, a beautiful bride and a beautiful occasion. The Bean agreed - dancing around during the ceremony music, and bouncing all over during the reception. Another music lover is on the way!
Me and The Bean have enjoyed a few trips to the pool so far this summer, and that's been pretty great. Not so great is when I have to get out. I could live in the pool right now. Being outside, cooled off and relatively weightless is pretty much the best thing ever right now. We look forward to more of this as summer goes on. Everything else is going well. Still no swelling or blood pressure issues. This pleases me because I love my wedding ring and want to put off the ceremonial "putting the ring in the jewelry box till December" event. The last doctor visit was in mid-June and everything checked out well. But I did get orders to take the glucola test on July 7th. Pray for me, y'all. That test is the worst. Drinking a cup full of warm, syrupy sugar after not eating anything for 12 hours is not my idea of entertainment. And the results will dictate whether or not The Bean is going to make the 5:00 news with his very first weigh-in. The results will also dictate whether or not I need to forget plans for a VBAC delivery. For our non-medical friends, this means vaginal birth after caesarean. We've been researching all of our options and at this point, this is still a possibility. A very slim possibility, but still being talked about. I am dreading the recovery period that comes with having another c-section. The difference between this delivery and my last is that I'm coming home to a toddler that will want to be picked up, hugged on, and attended to. You know, because he won't even be 2 when The Bean comes home. I'm having a hard time visualizing how this will play out when I've been recently gutted and can barely walk from the bed to the bathroom. But of course, Team Turner is practical. So if my risk for attempting a VBAC exceeds my risk for a repeat c-section, you will be able to find me on an OR table at Park Ridge anywhere between September 28th and October 4th.
So that's that. In 98 short days, I'll have reached my due date. And let's be honest, by 98 days, I'll likely have a newborn in my arms and spit-up on my shoulder. The countdown is officially on. Now to get through the rest of the summer...
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