I like traditions! And because I like traditions I should write how baby Vicky came about because that's what I do!
Also because I like to keep track of things so I know where to go back to in case I need some information or reference in the future! I'm thinking about baby number four already or even if it's just somebody asking me for advice!
Anyway, I think there were a few sentences I said the most in this pregnancy. They were:
"I'm not feeling well." - Dan can attest to this one, mournfully, I'm sure.
"This baby is going to come early" - if by early I mean less than two days before my due date, and only after my doctor stripped my membranes..... Vicky is a joker, I tell you.
And:
"It's amazing how much you forget from one pregnancy to the other." - And I used to attribute the fact that it's been almost four years since I was pregnant with Nico.
But last Sunday after church, waiting for daddy to pick me up at the curb because it was freaking cold (and it was also raining) to walk to the car with baby Vicky (in her covered infant car seat), I started talking to a mother of three. We asked each other about how many kids each of us had and their spacing.
People everywhere say my kids spacing is GREAT. Rebecca and Nico are 2 years and 7 months apart and Nico and Vicky are 3 years and 9 months apart.
And while I will not be stubborn to disagree I saw some advantages to it, I'm usually not a big supporter of our spacing. I always wished Rebecca and Nico were at least 6 months closer to each other, and almost four years between Nico and Vicky is already asking of me for a fourth child in the very near future so Vicky won't feel so lonely when Nico starts school next year.
So no, I'm not a fan of our spacing. But people usually think it's perfect. And so did the mom of three I was talking to after church. She had one of those 2 under 2, 3 under 3 spacing. So I replied to her with my go-to sentence, "the problem with our spacing is that you forget how everything is done.". But then she said she has been feeling the same way with baby number 3 too, calling her mom about things and having her mom say to her: "it's not your first kid, your know?"
So I guess it's just pregnancy brains, cubed.
FYI, pregnancy brains just don't go away with the pregnancies. They stay with you (forever?) to make you company!
So yeah. Pregnancy brains cubed and counting. I really need to write things now or I'll forget everything again.
Interestingly enough, baby Vicky and her birth turned out to be everything I didn't prepare/expect for. Last start talking about how I progressed at 32 weeks and then at 34 weeks.
By my 32 weeks appointment I was feeling the baby so low in my pelvis that I couldn't even wear my pregnancy pants anymore. I would also have terrible back pains after a regular day of chores around the house. Driving was really hard some days. I was having contractions. And carrying heavy Nico when he refused to walk in the middle of the parking lot or some place else was making me think baby Vicky was in for a pre-term delivery, FOR SURE. A killer mix of "I'm not feeling well" with "this baby is going to come early".
Also, premie babies scary me. Because I already have very petite full term babies, imagine a premie. NICU stays scary me. I don't think I could handle the separation anxiety I would feel for sure. And a ton of other fair reasons.
So I asked my doctor to check me at 32 weeks. I was 1cm dilated and 20% effaced. So not too bad! It gave me comfort that everything I was feeling was actually normal. But at my 34 weeks appointment, my doctor was the one who wanted to check me. I said oookay. And then I was 3cm dilated and 80% effaced. OMG, I freaked out. My doctor thought it was best to give me two doses of steroids shots just in case and, talking to Dan, we decided it would be best for me to stay in partial bed rest.
And then I had my 35 weeks appointment. And then came the 36w, 37w, 38w and the 39w appointments. And I was still 3/3.5cm dilated and 80% effaced. And - mind you - I was no longer in bed rest from my 37.5w mark, already.
At my 38w appointment my doctor asked me if I wanted to have my membranes stripped to help start labor. I said not that week, but maybe the next, because I thought as soon as I get on the go when my mom gets here, baby Vicky would promptly make her debut. Well, my mom arrived around those days and we went to a lot of different stores and places and I even did all the driving myself, look at that! But baby Vicky was probably thinking it was too cold outside to come out.
I also realized I failed to schedule a 39 weeks appointment because of, surely, "this baby is going to come early". And when I tried to schedule it last minute I could only fit later on the next week, mere four days before my mom comes back to Brazil. Yikes. Think about presumption and regrets.
I started to freak out a bit. I actually added a fourth most said sentence to my above mentioned repertoire: "baby Vicky is not coming out anymore". I prayed to the Immaculate Conception, and then to Our Lady of Guadalupe! Surely baby Vicky was just waiting to be born in a super special Mary Feast day. But nope! I even headed to triage on the evening of December 12th for the hall of shame pregnancy episodes of them all: the false labor experience!
So it was finally time for my next appointment, December 14th, Wednesday, at 3pm. I had my membranes stripped and we even scheduled an induction for the next day in case I was still not in labor by then.
But by 11pm that same evening, my first labor contractions started.
Thursday, December 15th came! The day Bl Maria Vittoria de Fornari Strata passed away. And also the feast day of a St Cristina (my mom's name!).
End of part 1.
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