Get set...

The last few weeks of being pregnant were long and hot as well as exciting as we prepared for the big day.  I had a little schedule of things I tried to do to keep me going and to get set for our little lady to come home.  Daily walks, household chores, visit friends and family, naps, etc.  The last four weeks of pregnancy we met with our doctor every week.  Our doctor, Dr. Judd, wasn't the most  tactful person on Earth.  In fact, I dare say tact was something he lacked all together.  He would say things like, "Well, when you're as old as you are and having your first baby, you're like a rusty lock.  It's going to take a lot of work to get things going."  Thank you, doctor.

I did my best to do what I could to help things along.  I went on several walks a day, trying to take as many hills as possible because that was when I felt more tightening and contractions.  I was slow but I quite enjoyed the walks.  I talked with Heavenly Father a lot, I was endlessly thinking about our little lady and what she would be like, and I bumped into lots of neighbors and ward members and would catch up with them.  I really did enjoy these times.

The last 2-3 months of the pregnancy I had real problems with water retention.  I grew out of every pair of shoes I owned until I finally had to buy a pair of flip flops that were a size larger and wider than normal.  They were the only shoes I could wear for the last month.  When I would go to my appointments, Dr. Judd would say, "I know why there is a drought in Utah.  All the water is in your ankles!"  I would chuckle (every time) and Matt would roll his eyes in behalf of us both every time he said it.  For the last month the tightness was up my calves to my knees.  It got to the point that it hurt to walk, my ankles and calves felt like they were going to split open, and I couldn't kneel down because I couldn't straighten out my ankles. I got used to it, but I did get quite a reaction from others.

About a week before I was due I had called a sweet woman in our ward, Sherri, to ask about any ideas she had for my swollen feet.  Sherri has been a midwife for years, so I thought I'd see what she had to say.  She said she was super busy that day but if I didn't mind talking while she put her makeup on then please come over.  I ran over ("ran" being a relative term) and the first thing she said was, "Oh, those poor feet!"  Another friend in the ward had already told her what Dr. Judd had said about my ankles and being a "rusty lock."  Sherri was offended for all women everywhere :o)  We had a really good chat.  The next day she called me early in the morning and asked if she could come work on my feet.  I hesitated to accept, but she really insisted.  So I agreed happily.  For two and a half hours she massaged my feet, rubbing in some essential oils, making me some herbal tea that she makes especially for pregnant women, and a lot of chatting.  It was the sweetest gesture and felt so wonderful.  I really saw a change in my ankles, too... for a few hours anyway.  

Another lady stopped me in the foyer of the church the day before we went into the hospital.  I'd never met her before, she attended the ward that meets after ours.  She said she was a doula, had noticed my feet, and said "could I please help you with them for a few minutes?"  Again, I said I was okay, that I was used to it, but she insisted.  I was waiting for Matt to finish up anyway, so I thanked her and said that would be nice.  She sat herself on the floor and spent thirty minutes rubbing my feet.  I really was grateful for these sweet women and the sincere desires to help me and other pregnant women feel comfortable.

In another effort to make my feet feel better Ann-Marie, Robyn, Caroline, and I got pedicures.  We laughed and laughed.  How I love my sisters.  The woman working on my feet simply said, "Ohhh!" when she sat down to get started.  But don't they look cute!

I struggled with eating for the majority of the pregnancy.  Between nausea, a squished stomach from my tummy tenant, and my lack of appetite in general, I had to really focus on getting enough calories each day.  By the end I had worked out a breakfast that I could eat and I felt was a good nutritious meal.  I'd cook up some eggs with cheese, a piece of wheat toast with homemade strawberry jam, and mix up an instant breakfast with some frozen banana in it.

Sleeping was another challenge.  It was hard to get up and down, and as many people know, there is a lot of getting up and down during the night when pregnant.  I also had problems with the circulation in my hands and arms.  I'd retained water there, too, as evidenced by my wedding ring not fitting by month seven.  My hands would ache so much in the night that it would wake me up all the time.  It was worse at night because I had to sleep on my side.  And laying on my side became uncomfortable because I felt like I had this big weight pulling on me (imagine that!).  So I took to sleeping in my recliner.  I put a pillow on either side so I could shift from side to side and my tummy would be supported by the pillow and I could get up easier from my recliner.  We would sleep with the fan on because I was so hot, but by early morning I would be chilly.  So I always had the blanket Emily made for us when we got married next to me so I could grab it when I got cold.  Each morning, Matt would come kneel by the side of my chair, we would hold hands, and have our morning prayer together there.  I think about it all the time now when I sit in the chair.  I felt very blessed.

I mentioned that my wedding ring had to come off during month seven.  I went about a month without anything on my finger, but really missed having a ring.  So I bought this CTR ring to wear.  I thought it was sweet.  It has two hearts on it and it reminds me that I did indeed "choose the right" man for me. 

I can't remember when it started, but Matt and I started writing notes to each other on our bathroom mirror.  I thought this was sweet when I woke up the morning after our due date, still very pregnant.  It says, "You are my sunshine!  You're almost there!  You can do it!"  That sweet Matt always wanted to try to make things better.  Sometimes that meant just letting me cry on his shoulder.  I was so grateful for his efforts to make me happy and comfortable.

I had packed my bags several days before my due date (wishful thinking) and put them in the kitchen.  As the days continued to pass and we continued to not go into labor I would re-pack, add things to or take things out of our bags.

I left a little pair of socks and mittens on the very top.  I loved thinking about sliding little hands and feet into them.  As uncomfortable as those last few weeks were, my memories are of joyful anticipation and gratitude.  It was hard to believe that we were approaching the time when our very own baby girl would be here.  I felt set, not in the sense that I had everything ready at home, but in the sense of being settled, ready for our girl to join our family, anxiously awaiting for her to come home.