Letting Go

I'm 28 weeks pregnant today. Tracking big, which is not a surprise. My doctor said everything looks good, and to expect another eight and a half (at least) pound baby come January.

We survived the extended glucose test. The first glucose test had me at 130; anything above gets you the three hour version. I redid the test and went up a few points. So, just before Vermont, Bama and I went off to NYU Medical Center (where we're delivering in January) for an 8:30am blood draw and downing of the 100mg (100g?) glucose. It made up for not having morning sickness the first trimester. No water, no food, nothing after midnight the night before.

During the first hour, from 8:50 to 9:50, we went to the north end of the hospital campus to the Enid Haupt Glass Garden. It's part of rehabilitative services at the hospital, but also open and ideal for toddlers (and anyone needing a place to get away, reflect, rest, play). We looked at the fish and the turtles, talked with one of the cockatoos. 


There are bunnies, too, which captivated Bama. She really wanted to touch the venus flytraps and other carnivorous plants but I kept her out of those (barely). Did she want to touch other plants? No. Just the ones with teeth.


The second hour was more sedate. We sat about 20 yards from the blood draw stations. Bama had a snack, read a book, drew on her scribble pad, played with my iPhone. I tried to ignore the nausea.

During our third hour, we went up and down a couple of flights of stairs several times. We had more snack. Then, we went out into the recently reopened inner courtyard and visited with the lions. Bama initially approached the stone lions then backed away afraid. After a few rounds, she realized the lions weren't going anywhere. She touched them. She put her hand in one's mouth. 

As I've gotten bigger, I've gotten slower. Just as exiting the first trimester is like flicking a switch, so is entering the third. My belly is heavy. My pants just aren't working. My ribs have spread an inch or so making my bras insufficient for boob mass and rib comfort. I'm tired. A lot. 

Tonight, Mister said he'd been thinking about how we'll transition and adapt with Tiny Baby, and that he recognized I need more help from him with Bama. I'm thankful for his awareness and also sad at the idea of being replaced as her number one. Selfish, yes? He's going to take over bath (we trade off) and will probably get up with her more in the morning, allowing me to get some extra sleep since my sleep is disrupted by ungainly rolling over and trips to the bathroom. It sounds ideal. I burst into tears. 

On more than a few occasions I've wondered if we made the right choice to have another baby. Ultimately, I know it will be wonderful for Bama to have a sibling, I'll enjoy watching our family grow and change, but it is unsettling to wonder what this other creature will be like. Patient? Zippy? Happy? Angry? Will they get along? How will I get us all dressed and out of the house by 9am when I can't do it now? How squeezed out will Bama feel? 

This last question is our main concern which is why Mister will be taking on extra duties now, so that she's used to the new routines way ahead of Tiny Baby's arrival. It will be better for her, but it means letting go, and I'm not quite ready for that.



Letting Go

2 thoughts on “Letting Go

  1. Oh, the letting go. It’s the hardest part of this parenting gig, if you ask me. I remember those last few months before E was born and how precious my time with B. I was equally concerned about how the second one wasn’t going to get my undivided attention the way the first one did. The truth is, she didn’t get as much of my attention. But she’s got a sister and they’ll have each other for the rest of their lives and that’s a very good thing, again, if you ask me.


  2. Thanks for the note. Even as I’m having these conversations in my head, I know that it will be wonderful. I loved having siblings, and kind of wish we’d be having two to make it three (not necessarily now). There’s something magical about sibling relationships.


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