So Ali’s favorite word lately is “Gok.” We can’t figure out what it means. He says it a lot. He also says something that sound like, “What’s this?” and “Who’s that?” His versions are, “Whaysis?” and “Hoossaah?” So cute.
Sadly and happily, we’ve completely weaned now. I stopped offering the boob a few days ago and he’s mostly stopped asking. When he does ask, I think he means milk in a bottle now, because if I offer the boob, he just kind of smacks his lips on it, pulls back, and looks at me expectantly.
He wouldn’t drink cow’s milk for the longest time. I started adding a bit of chocolate syrup, then switched to a tiny bit of maple syrup, which we gradually reduced, and now he’ll drink milk plain. He seems to relish his bottle and wants quite a lot of milk at night, sometimes 8 oz or more. He also gets a half cup of plain yogurt in the morning. I hope that’s a good amount of dairy, not too much or too little.
Meanwhile I’m still feeling like dog poo (so nauseated, so tired), no spotting or anything, but it’s still 12 days until the first ultrasound to figure out if this is really anything or not. And we have agreed not to tell anyone until then. Last time people close to us knew right away because it’s tough to hide a 10-day trip to California. So this secrecy thing — from everyone — is new. And it feels right, I just don’t want any more pressure on the ultrasound than there already is, and I don’t want to get anyone else’s hopes up just to be Sad Sally again. I’ll tell some people the bad news, but at the same time as the good news, that I can get spontaneously pregnant at all, so it’s not quite as much of a gut punch. I don’t want to be thinking about anyone else’s guts right now.
But it’s annoying. If I’m tired or scatterbrained or not playing soccer, my exhausted brain also has to come up with a plausible excuse, and that’s draining. And having a secret is like cash money burning a hole in my pocket, haha. Like a hot potato. That’s draining, too. It would be even more draining, though, dealing with anyone else’s thoughts or feelings about it until I know what the heck is going on.
Anyway. In my more hopeful times, when I believe this may work, here’s what I think to myself. One, I feel like it’s a girl. Last time I thought it was, but this time I feel like it is. It’s probably still wishful thinking. We’ll most likely add an 8th penis to this generation. For the last four babies we’ve hoped it was a girl every time. It seems by now that a granddaughter just isn’t meant to be. But I feel like it is. I won’t be crushed if it’s a boy, of course. Boys are pretty great. I’ll sigh and move on.
Two, I’m sorry, little one, that we’ve condemned you to a January/February birthday. Mine is in January and Ahmed’s is in February, and it’s kind of the worst. Everyone’s hungover from the holidays, the weather is crap, and no one wants to do anything, including us. Sorry. Didn’t plan it this way. Didn’t expect it! But it will be close to Cousin Mason’s birthday, and close to Great Grandpa Red’s birthday. So there’s some meaning there.
Three, please don’t come early! If you come at the start of 2020, all my health care for the rest of that year will be free because your birth will max out my out of pocket max right at the start (probably about $7,000 again). If you come at the end of 2019, I get no benefit at all in that way. Everything will just start over again in 2020. So please stick tight like your brother. Thanks.
Four, you’ll probably be born at a hospital, unlike your brother. For one thing, our genetic heads tend to be much bigger than Ali’s, and giving birth drug-free was just too exhausting. I hardly got to enjoy anything. The pain I could handle, but not sleeping in 48 hours on top of it? Too much. I couldn’t even hold Ali in my arms properly after he was born, and I still feel sad about that. And the stress of being transferred to the hospital and being mostly separated from Ali, it was sad. If I’d been at the hospital in the first place, things would have been much more chill. (Or not. Who knows. If I’d been at the hospital I might have had an emergency c-section or fourth-degree tear. Sigh. You really just can’t know.)
Anyway, I did it one way last time, I think I’ll try the other way this time. I am definitely scared. I’m going to see a Certified Nurse Midwife at a hospital, the only one in town as far as I know, and I hope she’s cool. I hope if she’s not there when I give birth the other doctor will be cool. I hope I don’t tear hugely or need surgery. I’m scared of getting an epidural (sometimes they don’t work, sometimes they wear off, sometimes they cause complications) and scared of not getting an epidural (what if it hurts worse in that different environment or I need to be induced and contractions are crazy?)
I’m also not looking forward to telling my midwife from Ali’s birth that I’m heading to a hospital. I haven’t 100% made up my mind, we’ll see how the appointment with the CNM goes. I also hate the bureaucracy and long waits at hospital clinics for check-ups. It can literally take hours, whereas with Sarah it was like popping into a friend’s house for a quick check and a chat. It’s a big part of why I abandoned Turbo OB last time. Hopefully a CNM will be the best of both worlds? We’ll see.
And will Ali be jealous of the new baby because s/he shares our genetics and ethnicity? Or will the new baby be jealous of Ali because of his awesome extended genetic family and fascinating, multi-faceted identity?
Finally, what the hell am I going to do with two small kids?? I can barely get out the door some days with one. With a baby and a toddler who’s barely two? I feel like I’m going to be almost totally homebound for at least a year. (Especially since we live on the third floor.) Which also means no toddler classes for Ali during that time, and that is making me sad. He’s not going to know what hit him. I hope it will be worth it in the long run for him to have a sibling, but I’m dreading him hitting such a tender age (he’ll be 22 months on the baby’s due date) only to have an invader in the house taking up a LOT of parental energy. And it’s quite daunting thinking of all the sleeplessness to come. Again. We’re just getting to such a good stage with Ali and it’s all gonna start all over again.
Ahmed sometimes feels burned out as it is, coming home from work and his sick-feeling and exhausted wife handing over the baby, whom he’s often primarily responsible for until 9pm. He basically has 12 hour work days. When Ali won’t sleep forever at night, it’s that much worse. When he’s being picky with his food, it’s that much worse. I’m just completely spent by 5:30pm, but so is Ahmed! So we’re kind of running on empty right now. Thank God the first trimester won’t last forever…
Obviously I’m glad and grateful. If it happens at all. I hope it happens. It’s just a lot to take in and think about. Twice as many kids. One of them a newborn. We didn’t really know if it would happen, but now that it’s a real possibility, our eyes are widening a bit…
But I’m very glad and relieved I won’t have to “do my research” again to figure out the ten thousand things that parenthood involves, from sleep to food to breastfeeding and so on. If I’m honest, this is one reason I wanted to have another kid. The thought of getting my PhD in Mom-ology and never using it again? Hard to swallow. I mean, I may get a terrorist kid who screams 24/7 and has a thousand health issues. But if I get a pretty standard-issue baby, it should be a whole lot easier than the first time around.
And I’m definitely getting a rocking chair this time. That’s one time when I should have listened to my mother! I have no idea where we’ll put it, but I’ll figure it the heck out.
Speaking of space, we’re fine as 3 people in a two-bedroom apartment, and we’ll have the new babe in our room the first six months, so that should be OK. But after that? I don’t know how well a toddler and an infant are gonna share a room. We just renewed our lease and have no plans to move at least until the little one will be 15 months.
I hope that doesn’t end up being a regrettable decision. We like it here and don’t want the stress of a move any time soon or to pay any more than we’re paying or to be responsible for any more maintenance than we’re currently responsible for. (Yeah, the lawn guys at 6:30am on Mondays are annoying, but it doesn’t cost us anything extra or any sweat. And someone’s here right away, for free, if an appliance breaks, etc.) But four people here may feel like a lot.
I’ll be so sad if all this trepidation is unwarranted and in 12 days we’ll find out it was all a mirage anyway. Thrown back into the pit of waiting and wondering when or if it will ever happen. But I think trepidation about a second kid is very natural, and I think we’re allowed to have normal, natural emotions, even if it’s a miracle baby. Even if we don’t know yet if it really is a miracle baby or not.
There have been so many times in my life that I wasn’t “allowed” to feel my feelings because it might be “inappropriate” or might upset someone else. I really don’t want to let fertility issues do that to me again.
I completely respect and understand that other people feel differently. If my words do upset anyone, I sincerely apologize, and I’ll understand if you’d rather choose a different blog to read ❤