About Me

Nearing the end

I’m officially nine months pregnant. I know from experience that waiting for the baby to come is the worst way to spend that final stretch … which is why I’m doing exactly that. XD

Given the number of viruses going around, we’ve opted to seclude ourselves already for the sake of being extra careful — don’t want a tiny newborn getting exposed to anything. Of course, with being so heavy and tired, it’s hard to keep up with my regular daily activities, and I’ve gotten to the point of deciding that if I haven’t deep cleaned it yet, I don’t need to. Heck, sometimes I wish that I was more in the habit of mindlessly killing time, but I just don’t have the stomach for too much internet.

So I’m waiting.

One of the things that I dislike about the homebirth community is that, like all groups, most of the members put up a front to make everything seem better than it is. Personally, I think that the very last part of pregnancy is supposed to be miserable, with hormonal changes and the overwhelming feeling of being so done that you can’t even … basically, it’s nature’s way of motivating you to embrace labor and the pain of pushing a human being through your *ahem*. I often feel like I’m the only one who openly says, “This part sucks.”

There’s nothing wrong with hating something — the pleasant and unpleasant are of equal value, and life is best spent honoring both.

Not that I expect anyone to understand.

Personally, I think that it’s a very small price to pay for the sake of gaining a lifetime friend.

About Me


This is the worst pregnancy brain I’ve ever experienced. I can’t remember being so forgetful before … har har.

To give me some credit, this is also the most children I’ve ever had, and between waking up early with the kids, trying to get quality time with my husband in the evening, and spending the night being pregnant, I’m probably not getting as much sleep as I need. Trust me, I’m trying, but for some reason everyone in my family loves me and wants to be with me. LOL.

So I’ve become horrendously absentminded with everything.

ANYway, as I’ve stated before, I’ve been planning on going AWOL while I prepare for my new baby, and with everything that’s happening ‘n all, it’s especially important for me to retreat right now. The last thing I need is to absorb all the stress and anxiety that’s going around right before I go into labor.

So, I won’t be on the internet for awhile.

I have a stash of yarn, a recipe book full of desserts, and a lawn chair with my name on it.

If only I could remember where I put the sunscreen.

About Me


I love food.

When I say that, I mean that putting an hour or more into making dinner is typical for me, and words like “quick,” “convenient,” or “frozen,” don’t have a place in my kitchen. I strongly believe that food should be a celebration, not a punishment. Eating should make your heart sing with joy, not feel like a chore.

So it’s killing me that I’ve had morning sickness for over a month now. I don’t want toast and peanut butter, I want real food. Preferably without vomiting afterwards.

I’m starting to have the irrational fear that this will drag on forever and I’ll never be able to eat properly again. Are those blissful afternoons spent cruising around a kitchen filled with scrumptious smells over with forever?

Logically, no. But pregnancy isn’t meant to be experienced logically, and I really just want to eat something delicious for once. I’ve been living on bland for far too many weeks now. It’s wearing me down, and I’m more than ready for this phase to be over.

I could really go for a hearty Irish stew, with lots of potato and onion. Or chicken paprikash with spaetzle. Heck, I would even love some simple homemade bread with enough gluten to make the neighbors cry. I just want to be back in the kitchen.

Barefoot, of course. I wouldn’t want to suffocate my feet and interrupt my connection with the elements. I’m far too free spirited for shoes.

I just wish I could eat fo’ realz, instead of tiptoeing around random nausea triggers.

About Writing


Ages ago, we had a neighbor who was expecting her second at the same time I was pregnant with #3. She and I used to visit a fair bit back then, and she spent months talking about how great she felt, while I was more candid about how I spent all day lying on the couch watching my older children smash Cheetos on the floor, because meh. Her baby was born about three weeks before mine.

A year later, shortly before our conversations stopped completely, she confessed that she had experienced crushing fatigue during her pregnancy.

Well, duh. There’s a giant parasite burrowing into your bloodstream and stealing all your nutrients. Fatigue is going to be part of the process, especially during the first trimester when that whole placenta thingy is growing and establishing itself — you’re not just making a baby, you know. It doesn’t make you a weak and pathetic person to feel tired. It means you’re human, like everyone else.

I still wonder why she felt compelled to pretend otherwise.

So, here I am, pregnant with #5, and I’m tired. No, it doesn’t get easier the more times you go through it, and yes, it does freak me out a little to say “I’m expecting my fifth” — that’s starting to feel like a lot of kids. I get dizzy if I stand up too quickly, and I feel just awful in the evenings. I also love my new baby very much, and everyone is super excited.

Thankfully, my first two are now old enough that they vacuum the floor, instead of smashing snacks all over it.

About Me


Early signs of pregnancy:

  • You go somewhere public and think, “Wow! There are a lot of newborns here.”
  • The kids start talking about wanting a new sibling.
  • Someone you know announces their pregnancy.

And thus, it was fate.

I have a harder time with thinking during pregnancy, and at the moment I’m drawing a complete blank on anything to blog about. Other than the obvious, anyway. I have decided that I might as well start keeping a journal for the next year, rather than vanish completely off the internet and leave everyone wondering, “Whatever happened to that crazy writer person? Wasn’t she supposed to be working on a novel?”


My first three pregnancies went smoothly enough, but baby #4 hit me with such awful morning sickness (more like all-day-and-occasionally-in-the-middle-of-the-night sickness)  that it caused me to lose weight and struggle enormously with dehydration during the first trimester. I’m absolutely terrified of repeating that experience, especially with my favorite holiday right around the corner.

So far, so good — knock on wood — but it’s still early enough that I could be in for anything during the upcoming weeks. Dinner is starting to consist of things like “buttered rice with corn,” and “stuffing, with cheesecake.” I’m sure my family already misses my usual cooking, but I’m not feeling it with most foods. Or flavors.

As for my novel: I’m 2/3rds of the way through with the rewrite. I had made it my personal goal to finish this step by the end of September (premonition? lol), but instead I got distracted with The Scion Suit and a number of real life activities. I still plan on finishing it completely within the next six months.

With any luck, “pregnancy brain” won’t kill my ability to write, lol.