2012-03-26 ---- 7 weeks, 6 days... and counting! :)
I haven't blogged in a long time. I can't. It seems that I can't keep my eyes open past nine on the best of nights. It's all I can do not to crawl into bed with the kids while we're doing bedtime stories and not fall asleep there.
Tomorrow I will be eight weeks pregnant. With number four. Wow! Hard to imagine that in my twenties we tried for three years to get pregnant before we were blessed with our Alexander James... now gap-toothed and pushing eight! Then Connor came along, a nine-month project in the making. And I was thrilled that he took 9 months. Felt pretty womanly after that! :) Kirstin joined our family in the blink of an eye, 16 months after Connor's debut. And here we are... in my mid-thirties with a 7, 5, and 3 year old... doing it all over again. I seemed to have kicked my infertility's proverbial a$$! I am thirty-five and medically speaking, considered a 'geriatric pregnancy'.
HUH? Speak up, dearie, I didn't catch that!
And this 'geriatric' pregnancy is throwing me for a loop. I don't remember being this tired last time. Or the time before. Or eight years ago when I was expecting our first. Of course, then I had the luxury of sleeping whenever.... still caught the odd 10am Saturday wake-up back in the day.
So, I thought I'd take a few minutes, before I attempt to tuck my kids into bed and and not get drowsy, to jot down a little update. I've suspected that we're expecting for about 4 weeks now, and I've known for sure for about three. Besides not being able to keep my eyes open, I also can't stand eating. Every thing tastes disgusting and makes me want to gag. But I haven't vomited yet, so that in itself is a huge improvement over my last three pregnancies.
I'm not whining, either. I knew the nausea was a probability. I seemed to have blocked the memory of it though, because I don't remember feeling quite this blah!... But I'm very happy to be expecting number four. Very, very happy. And the children seem relatively cool with the idea, too.
We met our midwives today. I can't go with Karin Gerlach again, because apparently she's on sabbatical in October and November, when baby is due. So I'm attending a new midwifery clinic, "New Beginnings". My midwives are Sarah and Sarah - British Sarah and Canadian Sarah. They seem nice enough. And very respectful of my "seasoned" status. We were in and out of the appointment quite quickly.
Our families know now, as do our children, but I'm trying to keep it to myself as long as possible at work. As long as I can avoid the vomiting, then I should be able to fake my way through the days for a few more weeks. Until I run out of clothing that fits, that it. I've already had to set aside one pair of jeans because I can't close them without wanting to cry. Which is why I won't be publishing the post right away.... pretty sure no colleagues read my blog, but not positive. I do mention it at the end of all my Christmas letters.
So, all in all, at the eight week point, this pregnancy is blissfully uneventful.
Just wish I could stumble on the perfect, gag-less food.