34 Weeks, 2 Days
Cantaloupe or Honeydew Melon
At somewhere between four and five pounds, and about 17-18 inches in length, my little dude is nearing full term. We're under six weeks out from the due date. His survivability outside the womb is steadily climbing every day, and we are now to the point where, if he were born today, he might spend a few days in a NICU but be otherwise healthy and have no differences in the long run from other kids who were born full term.
While this is such an amazing relief, and a great thing, I realize that I am not ready. We currently have no vehicle that can accommodate three children. We have no sleeping space set up for the baby. I have not packed a bag. We have no diapers or wipes. I have yet to locate my nursing bras and breast pads. I have no burp cloths. I haven't gotten out any baby clothes (or washed them). I haven't even done the tour of the Labor & Delivery unit at the hospital where I'll be delivering.
Part of the reason is the mentality that we've done this before, not our first rodeo, it's old hat, etc. Maybe we're just not worried about it. Part of the reason, however, is that I have simply been far too busy in the other areas of my life to sit down and prepare. I just asked my neighbor TODAY if she could cover down on my other two kids until my mother-in-law could get to us and watch them.
I'm still worried that he won't turn in time to deliver. I'm pretty sure his head is up here under my ribs. I'm pretty sure I've had at least three nightmares of C-sections gone wrong or my medical rights being violated. I'm worried that the hospital where I'll be delivering will do silly stuff like continuous fetal heart monitoring and making me lie still in bed, rather than labor how I want. This concern would likely cause me to stay at home for as long as possible, laboring where and how I want, before leaving... which potentially could lead me to delivering at someplace other than the hospital - like in the car on the side of the road.
This baby will come when he is ready, not when I am. He won't know or care if I am prepared. And that's fine. Because no matter what, we will suddenly be as ready as we'll ever be once he arrives.
Showing posts with label intervention. Show all posts
Showing posts with label intervention. Show all posts
Sunday, January 25, 2015
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Intervention
Wow. It's been nearly one year to the DAY since the last post. Two little kids with their two parents in graduate school is no joke.
This (year's) post title, "Intervention," seems appropriate on multiple levels. When life gets so busy that you don't have time to stop and.... I dunno...breathe the oxygen, it's time for someone to knock you upside the head and tell you to slow down for a second. While we spend the majority of our time running around like the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, we do actually get a few moments to pretend we're a "normal" family. Of course, I use the word normal loosely. I firmly believe it's a setting on your washing machine and nothing more.
Today was one of those days we got to be somewhat normal. When I titled the post "Intervention," the intent was a little different than the aforementioned. My children, ages five and two, have now gotten to the wonderful age where arguments occur. Maybe even brawls. Today's example was when the 2-year-old boy asked (in the sweetest, most polite manner I've ever heard) his big sister if he could play with one of her toys, she SCREAMED in wild protest, "NO!!! NO!!! NO!!!" To which, the boy cried huge, devastating crocodile tears.
No one was harmed in this exchange. Physically, anyway. I often wonder as a parent when I should intervene. I wanted to do it today, but I did not, and here's why:
I have a rule I use with the 5-year-old on tattling. She is REALLY bad about doing it ALL the time. She doesn't get the concept that, "Nobody likes a snitch." Instead, I've resorted to providing clear-cut examples of when it is appropriate to "snitch" and when it is not. Bottom line: it's okay to tattle when someone is in danger or if someone's property is in danger. I'd like to take credit, but my sister let me borrow a book called Help Me Be Good: Tattling (one in a great series, actually) that helped a lot.
Anyway, I figured the same rules should apply to me. If nobody is in danger, and nobody's stuff is in danger, I should really let them work it out. They need to problem-solve on their own, and they'll never get practice if I keep breaking it up all the time. While I certainly wouldn't just let them go wild, I think they are not in the right mindset to accept a "teaching moment" (read: a lecture on the proper way to negotiate) when they're already in the throes of a knock-down, drag-out tumble over a toy.
The husband and I try our best to demonstrate clear examples of how to problem-solve as a team and negotiate the terms of a compromise. Additionally, there are plenty of opportunities to observe other kids or even use television (I know, I know... the evil box that sits in the living room babysitting other people's kids) to show where the actors (or cartoons) could have done something different.
Besides, I'm tired of screaming, "Knock it off!" from the top of the stairs.
This (year's) post title, "Intervention," seems appropriate on multiple levels. When life gets so busy that you don't have time to stop and.... I dunno...breathe the oxygen, it's time for someone to knock you upside the head and tell you to slow down for a second. While we spend the majority of our time running around like the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, we do actually get a few moments to pretend we're a "normal" family. Of course, I use the word normal loosely. I firmly believe it's a setting on your washing machine and nothing more.
Today was one of those days we got to be somewhat normal. When I titled the post "Intervention," the intent was a little different than the aforementioned. My children, ages five and two, have now gotten to the wonderful age where arguments occur. Maybe even brawls. Today's example was when the 2-year-old boy asked (in the sweetest, most polite manner I've ever heard) his big sister if he could play with one of her toys, she SCREAMED in wild protest, "NO!!! NO!!! NO!!!" To which, the boy cried huge, devastating crocodile tears.
No one was harmed in this exchange. Physically, anyway. I often wonder as a parent when I should intervene. I wanted to do it today, but I did not, and here's why:I have a rule I use with the 5-year-old on tattling. She is REALLY bad about doing it ALL the time. She doesn't get the concept that, "Nobody likes a snitch." Instead, I've resorted to providing clear-cut examples of when it is appropriate to "snitch" and when it is not. Bottom line: it's okay to tattle when someone is in danger or if someone's property is in danger. I'd like to take credit, but my sister let me borrow a book called Help Me Be Good: Tattling (one in a great series, actually) that helped a lot.
Anyway, I figured the same rules should apply to me. If nobody is in danger, and nobody's stuff is in danger, I should really let them work it out. They need to problem-solve on their own, and they'll never get practice if I keep breaking it up all the time. While I certainly wouldn't just let them go wild, I think they are not in the right mindset to accept a "teaching moment" (read: a lecture on the proper way to negotiate) when they're already in the throes of a knock-down, drag-out tumble over a toy.
The husband and I try our best to demonstrate clear examples of how to problem-solve as a team and negotiate the terms of a compromise. Additionally, there are plenty of opportunities to observe other kids or even use television (I know, I know... the evil box that sits in the living room babysitting other people's kids) to show where the actors (or cartoons) could have done something different.
Besides, I'm tired of screaming, "Knock it off!" from the top of the stairs.
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