the nitty gritty

So Tuesday I told you that we are having another little boy.


We are so dang excited!

Yesterday and last night we were letting ourselves dream of bunk beds and wrestling buddies and shared toys and secrets.

And then the OB office called with the “official” results of the ultrasound.  Because of course learning the sex of the baby is not really the purpose of the ultrasound (no seriously, it’s totally not).

We were in the middle of carving pumpkins.  Eddie was all excited about the candles we were going to put in them.  And he may have been on the verge of a meltdown too, but what of it?

The phone rang and showed up as being my OB office.  Calling at 6:20 on a week night.  What?

So I took the call in our room to get away from the melting down toddler hustle and bustle.

It was the nurse from my OB’s office.

First, I have to say I love her to pieces.  She is German and has a thick accent and is incredibly tender and motherly.

Anyway, she reported back that Charlie looked good and healthy…but….

oh that “but”.

I hate the “but”.


my placenta is sitting low.  very low.  like on my cervix low.

And I can’t do anything about it.

Well, almost nothing.

I need to “relax”.  No exercise. No excess walking, dancing, running, stair-climbing. No ahem-ing.  No heavy lifting (and yes, Eddie is considered “heavy”.

It’s like I’ve already had my Csection, but I can drive.


The risks of a low placenta are plenty, but the big one is having it rupture.  That would be no good.

So to avoid “bed rest” (which as soon as she said these words my mouth went dry.  Bed rest CANNOT happen), I need to be, well, lazy.

This is easy.  On a weekend when we have nothing planned.

But for WEEKS while I try to teach high school, mother a toddler, and get jiggy with it at a weekend wedding, “lazy” is difficult.

However it must be done.

Of course I have freaked out about this.

And of course people have reassured me that by week 25ish things are back where they need to be.

I need this to happen.

So people?  My placenta needs your prayers.

It needs some motivation to move on up, Jefferson-style, to higher ground in my uterus.

I need to keep teaching.

And Charlie needs a happy, high placenta.