Sighing Softly

Rainy days...

2009-04-19T10:26:00.002-05:00

We had a wonderful time on our trip - we stayed in Lucerne, Switzerland but drove all over. Before our eight days were over we managed to see parts of Germany, France, Austria, Lichtenstein, Italy and almost all of Switzerland. We had to change the way we travel quite a bit to accommodate Julian's nap schedule - but overall, I'm so glad we went. I'll have tips to post later about traveling with a (very mobile) 11 month old. In the meantime, if you have an opportunity to travel with your children, don't let the fear of what ifs keep you homebound. Sure, they may not remember the trip - but you will.

And trust me, the stories about the trip will more than make up for their lack of memory. For example - did you know that a baby can lose a hotel room key in between the seemingly infinitesimally small space between the wall and the skirting board? And that the baby can do this no less than five minutes after you assure his father that there is no way that the baby can lose the key?

This pregnancy seems to be going o.k. - aside from a scare this past Monday when my blood pressure dropped to 80/60 and I fainted twice - necessitating a trip to Labor & Delivery to monitor contractions that didn't seem to stop. I had a bleeding episode when we were in Europe, but everything seems to be fine now. An ultrasound after we returned was unable to pinpoint what the problem is.

Hard to believe Julian will be a year old in less than two weeks. Harder still to believe that we'll have two sons before the summer is over. Time is going by so very fast.

He's a traveling (little) man...

2009-03-16T16:38:00.005-05:00

Before I was 17, I had never stepped foot out of the U.S. - and only briefly visited Oklahoma, California and D.C. in addition to my home state of Texas.

The travel bug hit me much later in life. I didn't have a passport until I was 22 or 23.

By the time Julian was a week old, he had already been to three states. By a month old, he was up to five. His passport came in the mail about a week ago, and he already has his own frequent flier number.

We're traveling to Switzerland a week from Friday for nine days, with a little drive into Austria, Lichtenstein and possibly even Germany and France. We've only made hotel reservations for the first three days - and secured the rental car. The rest is going to be of the "fly by the seat of our pants" type of travel. We've taken him into Canada but this will be our first big international trip with him (not counting our trip to Northern Ireland/Ireland when I was about 5 months pregnant with him).

For those of you that know us - this should be no surprise. We ended up yesterday on a 12 hour road trip because I didn't want to clean the house. The trip to Zurich? Meh - flight sale on American that was too good to pass up.

He's flown maybe 10 times or so - so I'm pretty experienced at the fervent "please no diaper blowouts while we're on the plane" prayers. We've never been on a flight this long with him, though - and never to a place where we didn't speak the language.

We tend to travel light - especially for our international trips - but with him in tow that may not be as possible.

Any tips for travel with an infant? Anyone with suggestions about where to go on the trip? Any advice would be greatly appreciated as with each day my stress level rises higher with regard to the trip. We bought a lightweight collapsible McClaren umbrella stroller for the trip - as our huge Mutsy wasn't going to be flight compatible. Trying to figure out how to transport him around (he's topping out at over 25 lbs. now) when we're not carting him in the stroller, how to keep him entertained on the flight, how to get him to easily adjust (ha!) to the time change, etc.

Just today, for instance I managed to secure an appointment to fix my passport to finally show my married name. Only my appointment was just an appointment to get in line behind 100+ other people who were also traveling within the next two weeks. No blackberry or cell use allowed. I had to reschedule as there was no way I could miss a day's worth of work for it.

So what say you? What has/hasn't worked for long flights and travel for your family or for your friends?

Well that was rather rude of me...

2009-03-12T10:18:00.003-05:00

I forget that all of you don't follow me on Facebook and Twitter - so when I'm lax about updating here some of you were thoughtfully wondering about our amnio results. So sorry. Thank you for those of you who wished us well.

Everything on the scan came back fine, and our son is genetically "perfect." Measuring a week ahead still (ahem. RIGHT ON TIME according to my dates, but whatever). We're struggling coming up with a name for him - but thankfully we still have some time.

This pregnancy has been much, much easier thus far on me than Julian was - aside from the annoying swelling and sciatic pain that I've never had before. Most of the time, I honestly forget that I'm pregnant at all until I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror or a stranger asks when I'm due.

Julian has started patting my belly, and we tell him that there's a baby brother inside there that is coming to live with us. I know he has no concept of what that means, and if his behavior when I was holding his six month old cousin is any indication - we're screwed. While I was holding Lincoln, Julian was livid and was trying as hard as he could to push Lincoln out of my lap and on to the couch. He was fine playing with Lincoln by himself, but when I picked him up - all hell broke loose. Granted, he'll likely be just shy of 15 months when this one gets here - so there's not much that we can do right now to really tell him about the baby. He doesn't understand it - and couldn't possibly given his age.

On the way back from Texas we apparently picked up some superbug and we've all been horribly, horribly sick since then. First Julian came down with it, then Patrick. Then my mom (who is Julian's daytime caretaker) got sicker than I've ever seen her in my life - with uncontrollably shaking and fever. Now it's my turn. I've been battling it since last Friday, and have missed work since then aside from two brief cameo appearances in the mornings this week.

Waiting is the hardest part.

2009-02-17T14:40:00.002-06:00

The amniocentesis was yesterday.

Before the amniocentesis itself, we met with a genetic counselor and a geneticist for about an hour. They asked us a lot of questions about our family histories, about birth defects and learning disabilities on both sides, etc. We discussed the amnio in depth, and they gave me many opportunities to reconsider my decision to go ahead. They both stressed multiple times that my chance of DS was still in the normal range (1 in 313) versus the arbitrary cut-off of "abnormal" (1 in 311). I knew, in my heart, though, that there was no way that I could possibly wait another four to five months to find out for sure. So, they walked me across the hall for the amniocetesis itself.

Before they started the ultrasound, they asked if we wanted to know the sex.

"Yes." I said. "Yes. We want to know."

Not that it would've mattered.

As the sonographer was measuring the femur length I said "oh. damn."

She looked over, inquisitive - "Is something wrong?"

"Another boy."

Now, when I found out I was expecting again, I said that I wanted to have another boy - as I had the whole boy thing figured out (at least at first). I had tons of boy clothes, etc. I would be a liar though, if I didn't say that I was jealous of other people who were pregnant or recently had girls. As we're not sure if we'll try for another after this one, a part of me was disappointed. But there was a greater part of me that sat in wonder - looking at the screen as our son waved his hand in front of his face and then FLIPPED ME OFF. They weren't able to get a good profile shot so we are unsure as to whether the nasal bones are present (if they aren't - it's a soft marker for DS). However, there were no other indications on ultrasound that were cause for concern (a shortened femur or humerus, cardiac defects, cardiac echogenicities, tricuspid regurgitation, cystic hygroma, duodenal atresia, omphalocele, polyhydramnios, choroid plexus cyst, renal calyceal dilation, and echogenic bowels). Certainly, that doesn't mean that we're out of the woods - but it is good news nonetheless.

We elected to pay extra (or hopefully have our insurance pay extra) to have fluorescence in situ hybridisation (FISH) testing done to expedite our results. The full amniocentesis results are available in about 1-2 weeks, but the FISH results should be available in 24-48 hours.

Most women who had one told me that it was relatively painless - akin to a shot. Now, as someone who gave herself shots for years as part of infertility treatment (both the sub-cutaneous ones in my belly and the intramuscular ones in my thigh - including one in which I BROKE the needle and had to dig it out) I will say that for me personally, that was a bit of an understatement. When the needle punctured my skin, I barely felt it. When it broke through the uterus, I whimpered a bit as a massive cramp wracked my body.

They took out what seemed like an inordinate amount of pale yellow amniotic fluid (two very large vials worth). As the perinatologist was removing the needle, I almost came up off the table it hurt so bad. I had some fairly bad cramping last night - but I have to say, that even though it hurt more than I expected to I would do it again if faced with the same situation.

So... for now, we wait. And I have to say, that as anxious as I was about the amnio I'm far more anxious waiting for results.

I desperately want this baby to be o.k.

amnio-sity

2009-02-06T13:37:00.002-06:00

close enough to animosity anyway.

Amniocentesis scheduled for monday Feb. 16th - meeting with the genetic counselor on the same day. I've been googling low Papp-a results all day and really shouldn't be doing that. No good things can come from scaring yourself half to death.

The hospital by us with the best fetal medicine department can't fit us in for four weeks. Which if something is wrong, severely limits our options timing wise. So it looks like we'll be going to Lutheran General in Park Ridge instead as they can get us in a week from Monday.

If you've had an amnio I'd love to hear about your experience. I'm petrified of needles (how I got through all those years of self administered fertility shots is beyond me) and honestly just scared. Really scared.

Seeking input, personal stories, etc.

2009-02-05T19:24:00.002-06:00

My first trimester screening report had the following information:

NT: 2 mm
CRL: 68.8 mm
GA @ US: 13 w0d
Free Beta HCG (MOM): 2.08 90th percentile
PAPP-A MOM: 0.57 20th percentile
Delta NT: +0.32

First trimester cut-off risk DS: 1 in 311
Before screening: 1 in 696
After screening: 1 in 313

Trisomy 18/13 first trimester cut-off: 1 in 150
Before screening: 1 in 1,302
After screening: 1 in >10,000

We're scheduling an amniocentesis. The information I've gotten from Dr. Google isn't terribly reassuring. Any input, guidance, personal stories, etc. would be greatly appreciated. Right now I'm a nervous wreck.

In other news, I've inexplicably gained 10 lbs. this month!!! I'd lost 3 lbs. last time, but I'm up for a total of 7 lbs. Not cool.

Otherwise, things are good. Heartbeat fine, fundal height fine.

My heart is still lodged in my throat.

I'm sure it will all be fine...

2009-02-04T17:31:00.002-06:00

Things have been a bit hectic here.

Julian turned 9 months old over the weekend, and celebrated it by walking. He's walking everywhere now - it excited bursts of 8-9 steps at a time. He can walk for longer periods if he doesn't realize he's doing it. Otherwise, he's a bit like a cartoon character walking off the edge of the cliff. As long as he doesn't look down, he's good. The minute he realizes he's not attached to someone or something - faceplant.

Last night I ended up working at the office until almost nine, so by the time that I got home he was already asleep. Unfortunately he's still mostly co-sleeping (with my mom actually, as he won't sleep in my bed). He hates his crib with unbridled passion. We're working on transitioning him to it, but it's VERY slow going. And the "crying it out" thing only works when everyone in the household is game and doesn't go in to rescue him from his "baby jail."

Sigh.

I broke the news to work this week about baby #2. Everyone was a bit surprised, but seemingly supportive. I'm only taking the full paid leave of three months this time, and no unpaid leave.

We're planning a trip to Switzerland at the end of March. Flying into Zurich - and then who knows what we're doing from there. Of course, J will be 11 months old by then - so clearly, we are insane. It'll be the first transatlantic flight we've taken in coach too - (waaaaaah, I know. I shouldn't bitch - but it was REALLY nice when Patrick had super fancypants Executive Platinum status with American and we got free upgrades all the time). The cost to upgrade to Business now would be 3x the cost of our tickets, so uh - no thanks.

I'm freaking out at the moment. I had my triple screen and ultrasound at 12 weeks (when I was measuring 13 on the dot) and the risk of trisomy came back at 1 in 10,000. Whew. Good. BUT - the risk of Down Syndrome came in at 1 in 313. An abnormal result in my doctor's office is 1 in 311. When I had Julian (remember, just last year) my risk was 1 in 1,300 or something. Markedly different. I'm only 29, so my risk should be considerably less than it came back as.

Right now, I'm feeling overwhelmed. Other than amniocentesis, I don't know if there are other tests they can do. We really want to have another child - and I may get flogged for this - I will be brutally honest in saying that I cannot personally parent a Down Syndrome baby. I know that some people have found them to bring great delight to their families, and I applaud that. I just know that for our family... that simply isn't possible. Even at 1 in 313, the risk is very low. Rationally, I realize that.

I also have a connection to this baby already, and the thought of even potentially terminating has my heart in shreds and I've been sobbing all afternoon.

I have an appointment with my doctor tomorrow afternoon. My heart will be lodged firmly in my esophagus until then, I guess.

Crushing.

2009-01-10T17:14:00.003-06:00

I have had a crushing, mind numbing headache for what seems like the last month. Light hurts, sound hurts... it's piercing pain.

The OB said it's likely just progesterone related. All I know is I wish it would let up, because I can barely function. I'm eating tylenol like candy and it's not doing anything.

Time to finally get up and get the tree down, I guess.

At a loss...

2008-12-28T10:00:00.003-06:00

My sister-in-law told me she was pregnant on Thanksgiving day, with her seventh child. She was a few weeks ahead of me, and due in early July. She asked me to keep it quiet, and I did, though I nearly stumbled a few times. On Christmas Day, she told her parents who were visiting for the holidays. And then she called her brother - my husband - and told him. Everyone's excitement was a bit tempered.

She and her husband had just sold their house at a huge loss and moved into a rental. She's a phenomenal mother - and homeschools all of her children. Her parents and brother worried that she was stretched too thin, that her husband's fishing trips were taking him away too long from his family. She's been dealing with a thyroid problem this last year, and they were worried about her health. How will she manage? Financially? Physically?

I have to admit there was a part of me that was jealous she was pregnant. I was baffled at how she could have a seventh when I struggled so hard to get to the point where I was hopefully having a second. I was angry that it was just so easy for her. Angry at who? I have no idea. Not her. The universe, perhaps. How embarrassingly petty of me.

We got a call late last night that she was in the hospital, and that she'd lost the baby. She was about 13 weeks along.

I'm at a loss as to what to say to her. I don't want to cause her additional pain, but I wish I could let her know how sorry I am for her loss. How much my heart is breaking for her.

Last night I started spotting pink after we went shopping for awhile. This morning I'm bleeding a deeper red. I hope that it's just the clot resolving itself. When I called the doctor's office Friday they said not to be alarmed if I had bleeding.

I'm afraid to hope for much of anything right now.

What a long, strange trip it's been.

2008-12-26T10:03:00.002-06:00

A little over two weeks ago, I got extremely sick after eating baked potato soup for lunch. Violently, horribly sick. I went back to work on Thursday and Friday though I still was having severe abdominal pain. That Friday Friday, Patrick, Julian and I were out to dinner and I fell ill and was unable to finish much of my food. There was a searing pain in my lower right abdomen, and I was nauseated and unable to eat. The pain was absolutely blinding but I begged Patrick not to take me to the hospital. Saturday morning, I woke up and felt better. Then I ate again and an hour later was doubled over in pain.

By Saturday evening the pain was still unbearable so I finally caved.

We were in the emergency room for about 5 hours before I was admitted with likely appendicitis.

The ultrasounds were only able to show them so much, and they were unable to give me a CT scan to determine whether it was truly appendicitis, a gall bladder issue, or kidney stones because of the pregnancy. We did get to see the baby's heartbeat though - thumping away at about 150 beats per minute.

So based on my symptoms, they bet on appendicitis. I had an emergency appendectomy that Sunday morning. And as it turns out, my appendix was not to blame. During the surgery the doctor found evidence of a burst ovarian cyst due to a large amount of free fluid in the cul de sac, which is apparently common in pregnant women.

They gave me a lot of zofran for the nausea and an IV drip of morphine - and then vicodin - for the pain.

The nurses and surgeon were amazingly nice, except for one night nurse who I wanted to stab in the neck with a blunt pen. She kept insisting I just needed to take ibuprofen (not permitted for pregnant women) and needed to "suck it up" about the pain. The doctor humiliated me a bit at discharge and said that I was in so much pain because I was "surprisingly chunky" in the abdomen and she had to cut through a lot of fat. Look, chica - I get it. I'm not extremely thin - but that was a bit rude and in front of my husband. Patrick said she said it to him before when I was in recovery after the surgery.

I ended up there three nights and four days, and then was sent home without any clear explanation as to why I was still having extreme pain on the right side after meals. The following Thursday I called the doctor's office in tears and they told me that it was just surgical pain. Friday I vomited three times from the pain and finally went back to the E.R. - the doctor there seemed convinced it was my gallbladder but the ultrasound didn't show any stones. So they sent me back home after nearly 7 hours and told me to eat a low fat diet.

They did another pelvic ultrasound that day. Baby's heartrate was up to 171, but they found a subchorionic hemorrhage. I've been trying to follow up with my OBGYN since then, but with the holiday the office has been pretty non-responsive. I went to a hospital where they're not delivering anymore, so I guess they're having trouble getting the records or something. I'm not spotting but I've had some horrendous cramps over the last week that take my breath away. I'm just trying to be hopeful.

Paper Anniversary

2008-12-12T12:19:00.002-06:00

Our first anniversary is a week from Saturday. Thankfully, I realized it now as opposed to a week after the anniversary. In our relationship, I'm much more the stereotype attributed to men of being forgetful and not as emotionally available. It's something I'm working on... slowly.

So. Christmas is only five days after our anniversary, and I've already spent a mint on him for that. The traditional gift for the first anniversary (why yes - I am pregnant with our second child and it's our first anniversary, because we're scandalous like that) is paper.

I'm crafty as long as it doesn't involve knitting, or sewing - but don't have too much time. He likes: penguins, 60s Italian films, soccer (Newcastle especially), travel, gardening, hockey and reading.

Any bright ideas for an anniversary gift?

Sleepy

2008-12-11T12:27:00.003-06:00

I don't remember ever being this tired and consistently sleepy when I was pregnant with Julian.

*yawwwwwwwwwwwn*

I don't know how I'll manage to stay awake through the end of the day.

And pssst - if you're lurking? How 'bout saying "hi"? I'd like to know a little about you.

Fuzzy math.

2008-12-10T10:41:00.002-06:00

I will never understand the "conentional wisdom" of pregnancy dating.

At the ultrasound on Monday, the tech had a difficult time finding the embryo with the abdominal scan and so I ended up with a transvaginal. After a few tense moments, I finally saw a glimpse of the heartbeat flickering on the screen.

And there was just one.

Whew.

However, I'm not completely in the clear yet. The ultrasound measurements showed that I was just barely 6 weeks pregnant. Only, that's impossible - as by the time of the ultrasound I've known that I was pregnant (from a positive generic HPT on November 17) for three weeks. The math just isn't adding up.

I didn't get the crown to rump measurement, but the embryo had clearly distinct arm and leg buds and the heartrate was in the 120s. I had this same issue when I was pregnant with Julian and then later in the pregnancy they started pulling the "whoa -this baby is way too big for his age!" Only he wasn't - he was perfectly in line with where he should've been based on my dating, notwithstanding that an early ultrasound is supposed to be the most accurate measurement of a pregnancy's duration.

They moved my due date up to August 2nd. According to my LMP I should be due 7/19. I don't think either is accurate. I think somewhere in the middle is probably correct.

I still haven't thrown up this time. Which is a huge change from last, when I was throwing up every day four times a day or more. I get queasy on the train, but the only thing I've noticed is I'm constantly exhausted and craving meat all the time. And considering I eat mainly vegetarian that's a big change for me.

Countdown.

2008-12-07T17:10:00.003-06:00

Did you know that if you get pregnant while you're breastfeeding that you are nine times more likely to have twins? Yeah, me either.

If you consume dairy products (which as a mostly-vegetarian I eat cheese, milk, etc. to excess) you are five times more likely to have twins (theorized to be due to increased absorption of insulin-like growth factor).

Taller women (woo! I'm only 5'6" so I'm in the clear there) and women who are overweight (did not dodge that one) are more apt to have a multiple birth.

Having a previous twin pregnancy ups the risk, as does being over age 35. Having a large number of previous pregnancies also increases your risk.

And of course, infertility medications - which isn't a factor for me this time.

Apparently being Nigerian also skyrockets the chances up for you, due in large part to a diet high in cassava - a type of yam, which causes hyperovulation.

If you're Asian or Hispanic you're at a decreased risk, while African Americans are at a higher incidence of multiple births.

If you get pregnant on the pill you're also more likely to have multiples.

And then of course, there's the family history of the mom - and no - the father's family history does not matter. Until late last week I thought I was in the clear here, as I didn't think I had a family history. Until my stepmother called me and told me my grandmother (who died when my father was a child) was a triplet. Before this little bit of news, my doctor was hinting at the possibility of twins. Based on a variety of risk factors she said that instead of the 1 in 33 shot for most pregnancies of a twin or higher order multiple pregnancy, I had a 1 in 4 or 1 in 3 shot.

Our ultrasound is tomorrow morning at 8 a.m.

As a little girl, I always wanted twins. But as adorable as the twins of some of my friends' are - now, with a seven month old I simply don't see how I'd manage with three under 16 months old.

I'm praying hard tonight for just one. Just one, healthy little one. Patrick is a nervous wreck as he's had some kind of psychic power (or predictive abilities far outweighing mere chance) about my pregnancies thus far. He's convinced there's two.

We'll see. I'm trying not to be too nervous. But I'll say one thing - if there's two in there this time, I'm done. No more. Not ever. Finis.

Unlike my sister in law who I have been trying to hide the news from my in-laws that she's pregnant with her seventh child. Seven! And her oldest isn't even 11 yet. Absolutely no way that I could manage that life. I have a hard enough time with my one.

In other news, J is almost completely weaned. We've had just a few night nursings in the last week to calm him down. The doctor said that based on my pre-term contractions with him I need to be fully stopped by the end of my first trimester.

I completely switched out my regular clothes for maternity this weekend as all of my "fat" pants are woefully inadequate at buttoning at this point. Sigh. And I'd like to hide it at work for another month or so. I doubt that's going to be possible.

Pelt

2008-11-30T21:41:00.002-06:00

I don't know if it's hormones run amok or that I'm pregnant with another boy but I seem to be growing quite the pelt.

I have a five o'clock shadow now on my legs, where I otherwise could go for a week without shaving before anyone noticed. We won't even mention the underarm fiasco, the trail already sprouting on my belly or... no. We simply won't go there.

Let's just say that I am now single handedly supporting Gillette.

*shudder*

Don't mind me, I'll be sitting over here in a corner methodically cornrowing my leg hair. Handy, considering we're expecting 6 inches of snow by tomorrow.

nervous anticipation

2008-11-29T20:08:00.004-06:00

At this point in pregnancy the doctor said she likes to see doubling every 3 1/2 days. Last check mine is 4,569 and doubling every 1.6 days, so the doctor said "I'm going to need you to come in for an early ultrasound" and hinted that there was a strong possibility of twins. I'll be brutally honest, that would be my worst nightmare right now. Since Patrick is going to be out of town all this week I asked if we could just keep our regularly scheduled ultrasound on the 8th so he could be with me. She said that was fine if we wanted to wait.

An HCG level that is rising rapidly is also a potential sign of Down Syndrome or a molar pregnancy.

They upped the progesterone to 2x a day. The odd thing is, I don't really feel pregnant at all. I've not had any morning sickness and don't feel pregnant at all.

I just want one. One, healthy baby.

Oh, and I had to break out the maternity jeans this weekend as I can no longer button anything in my closet.

On the pills again.

2008-11-24T16:28:00.004-06:00

Progesterone was only at an 18, so I'm going to be popping the little coral pills again.

100 mg. once a day.

First ultrasound will be 12/8 at 8:00 a.m.

I'm so amazed that this is actually happening. I know a lot can go wrong from the point that I'm at now, but I just keep reminding myself that nothing bad has happened yet.

Seriously?

2008-11-24T09:22:00.002-06:00

In the last two weeks, I finished packing all of my maternity clothes up in plastic tubs and sent them to live in the attic. I'd lost pretty much all of the 40+ pounds I'd gained with Julian, and was so happy to feel "myself" again - and able to fit into new clothes that I hadn't worn in over a year. My body is shaped differently, but I was actually thinner than I was prior to getting pregnant with Julian.

So maybe it's just bloating, but I swear I cannot buckle my pants now. Yesterday, my mom laughed at me while I was standing in the kitchen in a pair of low-rise pj bottoms and warned that "people are going to know soon." This morning I had to wear a pair of control top pantyhose in order to zip one of my biggest pair of pants. These same pants were too big two weeks ago.

Based on my HCG levels, I can't be that far along.

What gives?

Triple play.

2008-11-21T13:51:00.003-06:00

Initial beta HCG = 79.

Follow up exactly 48 hours later = 265.

Beta hCG levels usually double approximately every 2 days for the first four weeks of pregnancy. As pregnancy progresses the doubling time increases. By 6 to 7 weeks gestation beta hCG levels may take as long as 3 1/2 days to double. The beta hCG may take more than 2 to 3 days to double in 15% of normal intrauterine pregnancies.

Instead of doubling, mine have more than tripled, with a doubling time of 1.14 days.

Definitely not any indication that this will work, but my heart is swelling with hope.

Wow.

Out damn'd spot.

2008-11-20T10:52:00.001-06:00

Spotting.

Sigh.

I know, I know... it can be completely normal for this to happen.

I spotted for the first 14 or so weeks with J, with full on bleeding at times.

That doesn't make it any less nervewracking.

Follow up beta and progesterone tomorrow.

2-1-3-1-79

2008-11-19T10:10:00.002-06:00

2 failed attempts at drawing blood.
+
1 collapsed vein (she shoved the needle straight through it, and still managed to not get any blood out. Then she restuck the same arm before giving up and going to the other side)

equals 3 total tries to draw

for one tiny vial.

With an HCG level of only 79.

I know, I know - it's hard to say what's "normal" as individual women's HCG levels vary substantially based on the length of their cycles, etc.

The American Pregnancy Association cites the following chart as normal ranges of hCG for the number of weeks after the woman’s last menstrual period:

* 3 weeks: 5 - 50 mIU/ml
* 4 weeks: 5 - 426 mIU/ml
* 5 weeks: 18 - 7,340 mIU/ml
* 6 weeks: 1,080 - 56,500 mIU/ml
* 7 - 8 weeks: 7, 650 - 229,000 mIU/ml
* 9 - 12 weeks: 25,700 - 288,000 mIU/ml
* 13 - 16 weeks: 13,300 - 254,000 mIU/ml
* 17 - 24 weeks: 4,060 - 165,400 mIU/ml
* 25 - 40 weeks: 3,640 - 117,000 mIU/ml
* Non-pregnant women: <5.0 mIU/ml
* Postmenopausal women: <9.5 mIU/ml

Because I'm still breastfeeding, I have no idea how long ago I ovulated. My last period was around October 12-13. When I used to monitor my cycles I know that I tended to ovulate late, around day 16-18 or so. Using those numbers, I would've ovulated right around Halloween or November 1st. No idea if this is accurate at all.

All I know is that right now, I'm pregnant.

Still cramping on and off, very similar to period cramps. No spotting to speak of though (which was fairly constant when I was pregnant with Julian).

Repeat blood draw Friday morning. I'll be holding my breath until then.

Well, shit fire and save matches!

2008-11-18T15:30:00.004-06:00

For the last week, Patrick has been adamant that I'm pregnant. He offered me a beer last night and when I took a sip - my face screwed up into a contorted grimace. "Ha!" He exclaimed, "I KNEW it!" I gagged, and yelled "Oh that's FOUL!" and said he should taste it himself. He took a judicious swig and also gagged. We had mistakenly grabbed a bottle of Lindeman's Gueze which I might add is supposed to be served as an apertif with sugar cubes. Not swilled out of a pint glass.

It was c'est horrible. Ghastly stuff. Sour, vile.

*Shudder*

Julian refused to nurse again last night. He would take a drink of milk, look at me and spit it out while pouting. He's been doing that all week. I'd been up since 4:15 a.m. working. I was exhausted.

So when Patrick kept needling me about potentially being pregnant I snapped. I stomped upstairs to go to the bathroom, and rescued the last remaining test in the bathroom drawer where I stash the sparkly hair pins that I'll never wear and have no idea why I ever purchased them in the first place.

I thought to myself "I'll show him! And finally shut him up"

After washing my hands - I sat on the freezing edge of the tub, holding the HPT between my fingers. The control line came up right away, and I sighed with relief. Whew. Bullet avoided. The test window was just a smear of pink that was turning white.

While I'd love for us to expand our family next year, it's just not a good time right now. Julian's only 6 months old, we haven't even started on our attic renovaaaaaaaa

(this is the part where you'd hear a record scratching loudly)

What the hell is that? Is that an evaporation line? What is that? Can evaporation lines be faintly pink?

*stunned silence*

I stumbled back downstairs, where Patrick was laying in the floor with Julian watching Arianna Huffington butcher poor Rachel Maddow's show. I held it out to him, and said "can you see two lines?"

He squinted, held it sideways.

"Hmm. perhaps. I guess."

It was just like last time.

I clutched it tight in my hands for thirty minutes, took a picture of it, increased the contrast, flipped it to negative - everything I could think of to make it clearer one way or another.

Finally, I gave up. I tucked it into my briefcase and went upstairs to bed. This morning I obsessively contacted a select few people who I knew would be able to restrain (or add to) my OCD nature.

I've been cramping all day pretty badly, and thought that if I was that it was doomed. Finally at 2:30 I couldn't take it anymore. I went downstairs to Walgreens in my building, and as the nice lady was checking me out and triple bagging my purchase so it wouldn't show through their flimsy bags - one of the partners I work for got in line behind me. Of course he did.

I'm sure he saw.

Oh well. A good thing he didn't see the shock on my face when I went back upstairs to my floor and saw this 10 minutes later...

Beta tomorrow morning.

Patrick is over the moon with excitement. I am... well, right now I just am.

I am also keeping this quiet right now. No one at work knows (I hope). Our families don't know. If you comment on flickr or twitter, please don't mention it.

I don't have a good feeling about this, but for now I need this outlet to talk about it. Because I'm driving my poor friends crazy already after today, I'm afraid.

Twitter-rific

2008-11-18T12:42:00.001-06:00

If you're on twitter, you can find me @ http://twitter.com/april_anita

I tend to update there more often than here - though I'm trying to remedy that.

Dear Ms. P,

2008-11-17T16:56:00.000-06:00

Dear Ms. P,

I am assuming you have left for an unapproved, unscheduled holiday (to the Bahamas perhaps? I hope it's warmer there than it is here) as it has come to my attention that you have blatantly failed to come in at your regularly scheduled time - or at all - for the last eight days. While we did celebrate your extended leave last year, I thought it was made abundantly clear that in the future we will require advance written notice of any unscheduled time away. Was this unclear at all in our previous conversations? Your performance evaluation shows that in the last few months you have been increasingly difficult to work with, coming across too aggressive and temperamental. Once unfailingly reliable, you have shown up to duty earlier than planned, late, and at generally inconvenient times. Your promptness has been spotty at best.

While not every moment of our last 17 years together has been pleasant, we have found that we were able to work together with at least a modicum of respect. Future lateness will not be tolerated. To put it bluntly, if you don't get your act together soon, we may be forced to take legal action, including but not limited to disciplinary action or even termination of your employment.

You have 48 hours from the receipt of this letter to respond. As a matter of common courtesy, I hope you will issue a statement in your defense before the expiration of this time. I can be reached 24 hours a day should you have any questions or need additional clarification.

Kind regards,

A

----
In other news, my childhood best friend (who has PCOS and who has been trying for over a year) is pregnant, and due May 18th. I am over the moon happy for her.

What's your family's tradition?

2008-11-16T17:06:00.000-06:00

Last Thanksgiving, we had lived in our house for less than a week. I had never used the vintage 1971 oven before that day. I was pregnant, and more absentminded than I care to admit. Our dining room table was literally delivered on Thanksgiving Day - at 12:30 p.m. Patrick's parents were coming to stay with us for the holiday and I was so stressed that I was breaking down in tears.

I made some horrible errors. First, I left the eggs out of the pecan pie - which left it runny. I forgot to take the giblets out of the turkey, so my mother in law still jokes that he brought his own lunch. I have a feeling I will never live that down.

My mom is now living with us, and acting as Julian's full-time nanny. Patrick's parents are heading back up to visit us this Thanksgiving. So we'll have a full house for Thanksgiving this year. I'm excited about planning the menus for the week, and was wondering - what's your family's signature meal? What would simply *not* be thanksgiving for you without a specific dish?

Also, 35 days from LMP. A HPT on Friday was negative, so I guess I'm just running late this cycle. Still breastfeeding (though much less than I was), but I've been fairly regular since he was about 2 months old. Hate this "what's going on" feeling.

We did it for him.

2008-11-04T07:51:00.000-06:00

Picture taken this morning by my husband.

And for ourselves.

And for the man who delivered my documents this morning.

For my mom.

For my great-grandmother who passed away this fall and voted in every single election.

For my sisters.

For our nieces and nephews.

For everyone. For people that I don't agree with, people I admire, people that I love.

Please. Get out the vote today.

Vote with your heart, vote your convictions - even if your political predilections aren't the same as mine.

Home Sweet Home

2008-11-02T15:47:00.000-06:00

When we moved into our home last fall, we got a letter from a local pastor who had found some old pictures of our home in the church records. He enclosed them with a little note that he hoped we would enjoy them. The odd thing is, aside from the old streetcar line, the old car out front and the difference in landscaping, our home looks nearly identical to what it did in these shots (from approximately 1928).

There used to be an electric streetcar that ran in the median in front of our home, but that was discontinued sometime in the 1940s. While built in 1925, surprisingly we are only the third owners. The first owner was the town pharmacist. During the great depression he rented out rooms in the house to boarders. A young woman rented out the master bedroom and en suite bathroom during that time, and she later married. After her marriage, the home came up for sale in the 1950s, and she and her husband scraped together every penny they had to buy the house. They lived in it and raised their four children. The father of the family was a prominent local musician, and taught music at the high school. His wife taught piano lessons in what is now Patrick's office. One of their sons is now an opera singer for the Met in New York. When the husband passed away, and the wife went to an assisted living center the house sat vacant for over a year.

When we first saw it - it was gorgeous, but it needed a LOT of updating. I had just found out that I was pregnant with Julian and we were swimming in unbridled hope.

We closed on it the friday before Thanksgiving, and moved in that weekend.

In some ways I can hardly believe that we've been here that long - and in others - it feels like it's always been our home.

Hey baby... how much?

2008-10-31T13:29:00.000-05:00

Um, no. Not what you're thinking.

Since my mom has moved in, I bought her a new flat screen t.v. for her room (a small one but her having it gives us loads more privacy and "family" time together downstairs in the evenings after work) and a new laptop (v cheap model, but we have wireless internet - and that way she can't access it from her room anytime she wants). Anywho, I need to start paying her a regular wage, but I don't know how much to give her. She doesn't have utilities (other than her cell phone) or rent as she's living with us right now, but I'd like to start her saving so she can have her own place eventually.

What's the going rate for childcare in your area? What does that cover?

Any input would be greatly appreciated.

Back on the chain gang...

2008-10-27T12:57:00.000-05:00

Things have been... insane, to say the least.

We took a long vacation driving around Lake Michigan, spending the majority of it in the upper peninsula of Michigan and then a quick jaunt into Canada.

Patrick and Julian on the shore of Lake Superior.

I finally managed to slay the post-partum depression beast that was smothering me at night while I slept.

I moved my mom up from Texas in a UHaul with a geriatric obese chihuahua and a very pissed off teething baby with a car on a trailer behind us.

But things are starting to settle down and fall back into place. I'm back at work full-time, and honestly happier than I've ever been. Mom is now living with us, and is taking care of Julian while I'm at work. It's not the set-up I imagined, but oddly it's working far better than we had hoped. She's getting used to living in Illinois (we had our first - albeit very brief snowfall yesterday). Julian absolutely adores her. Saturday I worked in my bedroom for an hour or so and listened to her read to him in his nursery across the hall with tears welling up in my eyes.

I've been back at work for two full weeks, and am still pumping (another rant for another day). I've already missed J's bedtime once (coming home long after he was asleep for the night). I'm trying to find my groove and figure out how to balance everything.

But I just wanted to say hi - and thanks to those that have e-mailed, commented or asked after me on twitter (april_anita).

It's hard for me to believe that J will be six months old already on the first. He's not quite crawling, but can easily get from one side of the room to the next via a combination army crawl and rolling. He's still working on pushing those bottom two teeth through. His laughter (a rarity - he's a very smiley baby but not so big on the big guffaws) is the sweetest sound I've ever heard. He loves "reading" to himself - flipping the pages in his board books and petting (and by petting I mean, grabbing giant fistfuls of fur from the eternally patient and long-suffering cats). He loves butternut squash, dragon fruit and pears. He hates socks, avocados and bedtime.

In short, I adore him. Completely. Utterly.

(Shot from our trip down to Texas, J is being held by Patrick's dad)

We're hoping to start trying for another one soon. Yes, we're likely crazy, and who knows it may never happen. But I never knew it was possible to love like this. As cliched as it sounds, it's true. Completely true.

Worried.

2008-08-30T08:50:00.000-05:00

Lincoln Charles made it into the world via c-section August 27 after almost 20 hours of trying to induce labor to no avail and my sister running a high fever. He was 7 lbs. 6 oz. and 20 inches long. Of course, I'm biased, but I think he's beautiful.

Initially his oxygen levels were troubling and was thus whisked to the nursery after delivery as they were concerned he had a tear in his lungs. My sister didn't even get to see her son for the first time for almost three hours after delivery. They kept him in the nursery for the first night to continue monitoring and to give her some much deserved sleep - as she'd been up for almost 40 hours at that point and was feverish.

She's been running a fever ever since. They've been pumping her full of antibiotics and as of this morning it was 102.4. She's been having uncontrollable shaking on top of it. If she still has a fever tonight they are going to do a CT scan of her abdomen tomorrow, and a heart scan Monday. Of course, the way insurance works in this "civilized" country of ours - Lincoln has to be discharged tomorrow. So much for bonding with your newborn, I guess. While she was leaning toward formula feeding with all that's happened, she's had no choice but to give up any hope of breastfeeding.

I'm worried, but there's really nothing I can do for her. And that breaks my heart.

Keeping my fingers crossed

2008-08-25T10:07:00.001-05:00

My younger sister, Daphnne is pregnant with a baby boy, to be named Lincoln. She's due in a few weeks. This was a picture of her taken last month when I was in Dallas.

Her blood pressure is skyrocketing and she's spilling protein in her urine. She's going to be induced tomorrow at midnight. I'm not sure why the doctors are waiting, but I suppose there's a reason why I went to law school and not medical school.

All I know right now is that I wish I wasn't half a country away, and that I could be there for her more than just in spirit.

Please keep her and the baby in your thoughts.

It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt.

2008-08-21T13:20:00.001-05:00

About three weeks ago I went upstairs to put laundry away (hahaha, I jest - who knows what I was doing, but I guarantee you it wasn't that). I left Julian in the bouncy seat on the breakfast table. The problem with this, you see, is that Ennis is convinced that it's HIS seat.

So when I heard Julian screaming bloody murder, I started sprinting downstairs to make sure that Ennis hadn't chewed his toes off. As an aside, I have this ridiculous fear that the cats will eat the baby's toes. I have no idea where this comes from, maybe some news story about something similar?

Anyway... I start sprinting down the stairs.

You see where this is going right? I bound down two stairs and then...

SPLAT.

Only it wasn't so much "SPLAT" as it was a long, arduous slow motion fall that made me fall ass over tea kettle down the entire flight. I was shaken, but nothing appeared to be broken and the next few days just tried to take it easy.

A few days later I decided to go get some groceries (and of course by "groceries" I mean wine. and cheese. maybe coffee.) I went to lug my chunkster son out of the car in his carseat and then suddenly I was sitting in the Meijer parking lot crying, fighting back waves of nausea and blinding pain was shooting through my back and down my right leg.

The next day I went to the doctor and she put me on a week's worth of steroids, some muscle relaxers and vicodin. Now, while I was appreciative, since I'm still nursing J - I can't take the muscle relaxers or the vicodin unless he's not going to nurse for 12 or more hours. I hate pumping and dumping. So, I've managed to get by about a week with only the tiniest church mouse nibble of the good stuff. I was starting to feel better, and then yesterday while I was tiling the kitchen, I twisted ever so slightly to the left, and wham. Same damn thing happened again. On the floor, ready to pass out from pain.

Today I had a follow up with an orthopedist, and had eight x-rays of my spine. It's so surreal to me to see my own body in x-ray films. Spine looks o.k. - no fractures or breaks thankfully. I get an MRI next week - woo! And am being sent to physical therapy and will start using a TENS device. She's concerned that because of previous damage I have to my back that one of my discs may have ruptured.

In other news... my kitchen floor is missing. I got frustrated with the disgusting white berber carpet that was in there when we moved in last fall. Who the HELL puts white berber carpet in a kitchen? So, one day I just started ripping it up, and then ripping up the 1940s linoleum that was underneath it, and then the thick paper padding under that... until I was down to the bare plank subfloor. So now, when you're standing in the kitchen you can see slivers of the basement beneath you. Not exactly the ideal situation for someone (such as myself) who is afraid of heights. I also ripped all the 1970s trim off the kitchen cabinets, and am in the process of repainting them, and switching out all the hardware. I am painting the walls an asparagus green color and we picked out a solid carbonized bamboo floor to put in. I bought some amazing vintage french mosaic tiles and ripped out the old tile and replaced the backsplash with those. I've still got about two full days worth of work in there, but I think it's going to be a huge improvement.

Oh, and apparently J didn't have rotavirus. They don't know what is wrong with him (whatever it is -is back. A plague of watery green poop is upon us again). His poor little butt is so raw that it looks blistered. I've tried every brand of diaper cream I can find, and nothing seems to help.

And one last thing. I just cut off six inches or more of my own hair. In my bathroom sink. It wasn't quite pulling a Britney... but close.

Getting slowly better

2008-08-08T15:08:00.000-05:00

Definitely rotavirus. Poor baby... every diaper change he screams so hard his body shakes. His poor skin is so raw, but he's doing better.

Slightly better at least.

Thanks for the well wishes.

Tip of the Day - Can't find your rolling pin?

2008-08-07T14:28:00.000-05:00

While making pastry, if you can't find your rolling pin, or need an extra one - simply fill a straight sided wine bottle with cold water and recork. The cold water will make the pastry easier to roll.

Oops. That was meant for a post on my food blog.

Sorry, we'll return to your regularly scheduled programming shortly.

Insane

2008-08-06T17:51:00.000-05:00

When Patrick and I bought our house last November, we looked all through the Fox Valley. We decided on our town because there was easy Metra access, and we could afford a house on one of the most beautiful streets in town with gorgeous historic homes. Mind you, the house we bought had been lived in for the last fifty years by one couple. The house had some SERIOUS updating to be done. In fact, it still has its original 1925 bathrooms - complete with 1925 toilets. They're the most horribly water inefficient things ever - but we heart the hex tiles on the floor and the subway tile on the walls. Eventually, we'd like to restore them and make some changes.

One of the best things about the house is that it has a lot of room to grow with. There's a huge walk-up attic and a complete basement. Both, however, are unfinished and will require quite a bit of work to make them livable spaces.

This brings us to our current predicament.

My mom was providing my great-grandmother "Granny" with 24 hour a day Alzheimer's care for the last five years of her life. She gave up working as it simply wasn't compatible with trying to keep Granny from hurting herself or walking down the streets confused. Mom's had a hard life. A very, very hard life. Granted, a lot of this is her own fault. Those of you who have been long-time readers (from my old site) know that my childhood was peppered with her going in and out of rehab. I didn't live with her after I was 11 years old. Now, in her defense, she was a wonderful parent before she tried escaping an abusive philandering husband in bottles of vodka. She's been sober almost fifteen years.

She was promised the opportunity to live in Granny's house once Granny passed as a thank you for her years of unpaid labor bathing Granny, changing her diapers, etc. And then the heirs sold the house out from under her - with 30 days notice for a pittance.

We've had a very strained, distanced relationship up until the time I got pregnant with Julian. Now Mom is essentially homeless. My grandmother has asked her to come live with her, but she's a bipolar alcoholic and I honestly think that one of them would end up killing the other (or herself) before the end of the year if they moved in together. Mom is a brilliant person - though she has only a high school education. She's fluent in american sign language. She's patient, and great with children. She's an artist and is incredibly creative. She also suffers from an anxiety disorder and hasn't held a steady job in over 3 years.

After long, careful discussions, Patrick and I decided that we would ask her to move up here from Dallas and be our nanny. It would allow us to help her, without giving her a handout... and would ensure that Julian was being watched by someone who loved him as much as we do.

She agreed to do it. I was honestly a bit surprised. The catch is that we'll be completely supporting her. COMPLETELY. Gas, groceries, housing, utilities, etc. Essentially as if she was an au pair. Which brings us to the housing issue.

I'm currently on unpaid maternity leave. I.e. no cash flow coming in. We've got savings, but not a ton. Our original plan was that we'd buy a second small home for her to live in (in our names) as an investment property. Gives her privacy, gives us some potential return on the outlay of money for housing, etc. Great idea except the well, not being paid part. We can do it, but the minimum downpayment would essentially drain all of our savings. Once I go back to work, it wouldn't be that big of a deal. We could easily do a second home in six months or so, after I've been back to work for awhile. That, and I'm a bit hesitant to take on another mortgage not knowing for sure if she's going to be happy with the arrangement.

So... that leaves us with two options. Get a short term lease on an apartment. Cheap monthly expenses, but we're just throwing the money out in a way.

Which leads us to the (probable) solution we're going to take... finish out our basement and let her live with us for six or eight months while we save up for a down payment on a second place. She would have a separate entrance to use if she wanted, and we'd be putting in a bathroom, bedroom and living area downstairs. It's virtually soundproof from the rest of the house. The only thing we'd be sharing is the kitchen. There's a separate back door that goes to the landing between the kitchen and basement. Putting the money into the renovations rather than rent would greatly increase our property value, and give us much needed space for a playroom and additional guest room once she's gone.

Patrick's dad is a general contractor, and we're calling him tonight for his thoughts and ideas. It wouldn't be a perfect situation, but it would help us more than the other option for a temporary solution.

I think we may be crazy. But sometimes, a little bit of craziness is what's necessary.

I'll take the Rotavirus with a small side of pneumonia.

2008-08-04T20:57:00.001-05:00

By 1:00 this afternoon, Julian had seventeen poopy diapers in the last eighteen hours. They were watery and looked like the color of grass clippings. And he was screaming, wailing - and it was breaking my heart. I was a bit worried that the stool softener (apparently it wasn't actually a laxative) that I'd taken had caused him to be sick. But I didn't think it would make him that sick (as it turns out, that wasn't what was wrong). He was running a low grade fever, but nothing to write home about. His voice was hoarse, but I thought it was from crying so much over the last 24 hours. He was a bit raspy and wheezy but he seemed in fairly good spirits.

I called the pediatrician's office and described what his symptoms were. Their instructions - "Go directly to the emergency room." I called Patrick, lamenting those instructions, and said that I didn't think it was necessary, that he didn't seem that sick to me. I was pissed that we'd have to pay a $100 co-pay instead of the $20 for the doctor's office.

We spent seven hours at the hospital. He had two IVs, IV antibiotics, a chest x-ray and a full blood workup. His x-ray showed some potential pneumonia and some "left perihilar stranding densities representing atelectasis" whatever that means. His white blood cell count was too high, his red blood cell count too low, hemoglobin too low, platelets way too high, neurtrophils too low, lymphocytes shockingly high, glucose almost double what it should have been, creatinine too low, potassium and calcium too high. I have no idea what any of this means - except that elevated white blood cells indicate an infection of some kind. He's to follow up with the pediatrician's office tomorrow at 9:15. I've been directed to let him nurse as much as he possibly will and then top him off with pedialyte through the night. I took a sip of it before I put it in a bottle for him, and it tastes like liquid medicated ass. Blech. He actually seems to like it though.

While in the emergency room, we were sharing the room with a guy who'd gotten his nose broken (and heard him moaning and throwing up blood while his face was stitched up) and an elderly woman who was in for shingles and a potential heart attack. I'm praying to God he doesn't get chicken pox now (since shingles are the same virus). We were separated only by a flimsy cotton divider.

My nerves are wrecked, even though Patrick actually made it to the hospital before we did and stayed with me the entire time. I lost it and started bawling when they put a catheter in his tiny little penis and he let out the most blood curdling cry I've ever heard. I had to leave the room when they put the IV in because I almost passed out.

I felt so awful that I'd initially hesitated to take him to the hospital, as I really didn't think he was that sick. The rotavirus results will be back in two days, but the doctor said that's what her money would be on. They're doing some further analysis on the chest x-rays to get a better feel about whether he has pneumonia.

Oh, and in other news - I am not pregnant. Took a test last weekend, and all is well. I'm incredibly thankful, as that was something we didn't want right now.

Things I learned today...

2008-08-03T18:14:00.000-05:00

When breastfeeding, it's best to never even think about taking a laxative. Even if it's been almost a week. You'll change more dirty diapers than you ever imagined possible, and they will all reek like rotten apricots.

Real post coming later, I promise.

Christ on a cracker.

2008-07-23T21:53:00.000-05:00

I'm a well educated woman. I essentially skipped my last two years of high school and finished my undergraduate degree when I was only 18.

I had my MBA before I could legally buy alcohol.

I finished law school at 23.

I work for a high profile law firm and negotiate multi-million dollar contracts on a regular basis.

Annnnnd... I apparently can't fucking read the directions that go with my birth control pill.

Patrick and I had a few rounds of unprotected sex before my "back in the saddle" 6 week check up (which I actually had at 7 or 8 weeks postpartum). I had a pregnancy test in the office, and it was... negative.

White as snow. I assumed it would be.

So, because I'm breastfeeding, they put me on the mini pill so as not to interfere with milk production. Great. Fabulous. The nurse was in a hurry, they were closing early that Friday and she shooed me out with the prescription.

With my bouncing bundle of screaming infant buckled safely in the backseat of the car - (inside his Maxi-Cosi seat which I incidentally hate and can't wait for him to grow out of) the pharmacist asked me if I had any questions when I picked up my prescription.

Nope, no questions. Just hand over the pills lady. Mind you, I took the pill for years (and actually got pregnant while taking it TWICE at age 19). And that kind of luck makes you REALLY careful about taking the pill on time every day.

Until, that is - you have a newborn and are battling postpartum depression and are schlepping a baby through the airport more times than you should at his age to get halfway across the country before your closest relative passed away... you know... I would've been pretty vigilant about taking it.

But, you see, I wasn't. I took it haphazardly - forgot a day? No problem, take a double dose the next day. Right? FUCKING WRONG. Apparently you have to take the mini-pill the exact same time every single day to be effective. No skipping doses, to being late... unless you want to be late if you know what I'm saying.

The first week I was on it, I had pretty significant spotting - no surprise as I always had breakthrough bleeding on the pill.

Like the "regular" pill I thought the last week of the mini pill was a placebo. Um, no. Apparently not. So last Saturday when I was supposed to start the last week (and expected my period to show up - since the hormones were apparently wrecking havoc on my body) I ditched the pill pack. Today, well - today's Wednesday and all day I've been trying to not puke all over the place.

I've been wearing white panties all week and well, there's not even the hint of spotting.

I was infertile for five years while married to my ex-husband. Patrick and I weren't exactly being careful but we weren't trying to get pregnant when we conceived Julian. We'd love another child, but um, not yet. Not anytime soon.

I know that because I'm breastfeeding, and at least was taking the minipill somewhat correctly that my chances are lower.

But seriously? This is the first time in a very, very long time that I've worried about being pregnant and desperately not wanted to be.

Ugh. When do I test? When do I start a new pack of pills?

Alive and adapting...

2008-07-22T16:40:00.000-05:00

Thank you all for your sweet comments. It's hard to believe that three months will have gone by this Thursday already.

Julian is doing well. He's in the 95th percentile for height, and at his last pediatrician's visit three weeks ago he was already tipping the scales at 13 lbs. Given his usual weight gain, and based on how much he's grown in just those few weeks, I would bet he's close to 15 lbs. now. Right about the two month mark, he started teething. Yep. Teething... at two months. Poor bugger hasn't actually had a tooth break through yet, but you can feel the two middle ones on the bottom coming in. It sucks because he can't hold a teething toy yet, so we've been improvising with frozen washrags and frozen carrots.

We're breastfeeding, though he gets the occasional bottle of formula, especially if we're traveling. While we struggled with it a great deal at first, I started taking Fenugreek and it's helped my supply tremendously (though I do smell a little like a pancake house reject).

He's laughing now, and cooing. About three weeks ago he rolled over for the first time, from his back to his front, and looked at me like hmmm, what was that? It's only happened one other time since then. He loves his bathtime, and tries desperately to convince me to let him go naked (though Jack, one of our cats would be horrified at that considering Jack got nailed in between the eyes during one of our early diaper changes).

We've had a rough three months. I had an emergency trip to Dallas - to see Granny before she passed away. Mind you, this was in the midst of my battling some mild postpartum depression. I struggled to figure out how to care for and what to do with a newborn after Patrick went back to work and I was home alone with the baby all day. While in Dallas I managed to come down with a bladder infection (common post-delivery, it seems) that necessitated a hospital emergency room visit after I had 103 degree fever for three days and developed shaking so much that I couldn't hold the baby. And of course, we had the seemingly never ending stream of baby tourists.

Miraculously, I've lost all 39 lbs of the pregnancy weight, though I'll admit that my body doesn't look anything like it did before I got pregnant. I'm just now starting to go back to the gym, and making a conscious effort to get back in shape. Say what you will about breastfeeding, but I'll say this - it melted the weight off for me. Here's hoping it continues to do so.

I'm still taking pictures and now I'm food blogging as well. I promise I'll do better about updating here. Honestly, there's just so much of the day that I love watching him that I'm finding it hard to get the most basic things finished. Such is life, I guess.

I go back to work exactly 12 weeks from today. Before then, I have to move my mom up (she's coming to live as our paid nanny) and find her a place to live. I'm also in the midst of house renovations ('cause that's a sane thing to do while on leave, no?) and am trying to squeeze every minute out of the day.

Amazed.

2008-05-05T08:44:00.000-05:00

Julian Randall was born at 11:01 p.m. on Thursday, May 1st weighing 8 lbs, 8 oz. and measuring 20 inches long.

I hope to write out his entire birth story this afternoon, after we take my parents back to the airport - but the short of it is -

planned natural labor with no pain medicine - ended up blissfully happy with an epidural and have no regrets whatsoever about it...
extensive episotomy and very, very painful stitches (three cuts necessary to get him out)
an hour and a half of pushing
the doctors were contemplating a hysterectomy after - as I couldn't stop bleeding
we stayed at the hospital exactly 24 hours after his birth

I'm exhausted, but happier than I've ever been in my entire life.

Mayday Mayday Mayday

2008-04-30T15:44:00.000-05:00

I thought I'd have something fabulously thought provoking and profound to write about today... the eve of the culmination of all these years of longing to hold my child in my arms.

Instead? I've been pacing the floors trying to quell the rising tide of bile in my throat.

I go in tomorrow morning at 6:30 a.m. to be induced. Simply put, I'm on maternity leave now from work and I feel like I'm wasting it by not spending it with my son (who um, hasn't been born yet). That - and given the frightening predictions about his weight, the doctor agreed that induction seemed to be a reasonable idea. I wanted to wait it out and go into labor naturally - and since I've been having contractions since well, DECEMBER, one would think that my body would know what to do by now. Instead? No. I had strong contractions yesterday for about five hours, and they got as close as five minutes apart before just petering out into nothingness.

My parents are coming to visit us for the first time ever - and they arrive at the airport Saturday at noon. Mind you, we never technically unpacked all the way when we moved in uh, last November. Pesky bedrest and all that.

I'm trying to conquer the house in a whirlwind of activity today, largely because, well, it's making the time go by faster. I don't know how I'll manage to sleep though.

The honest truth is I'm frightened. Horribly so. I mastered "pregnancy", and feel completely comfortable with that aspect of the journey. However, that bit of knowledge is rapidly becoming obsolescent. Tomorrow (hopefully) I will be a mother. I don't know the first thing about babies, and how to care for one - especially a son. Dear God, what have I gotten into? All I can hope for is an easy and safe delivery. I'll even trade the easy part for a healthy baby.

Tomorrow - hopefully, I'll hold him in my arms.

I've never been so afraid or so excited in my entire life.

DBT and L&D

2008-04-26T16:09:00.000-05:00

Julian was so active last night that it felt like my uterus was going to explode. We'd gone out for TexMex (mediocre at best, as we have no "real" Tex Mex places here) and I guess he was unhappy about the room he had available based on the sheer amount of fajitas and queso in my belly. He was moving so much that it was almost ferociously violent. And the last time I felt him was around 8:30 p.m.

As of 11:45 this morning, I'd only felt him move once. Normally he's very active, and while he's pretty much run out of room inside, it still shocked me that I couldn't feel him move. I ate some cereal and tried laying on my side to count his movements.

Nothing.

I drank some blood orange juice, and laid down again.

Nothing.

I tried to push the panic out of my mind and quell the DBTs (dead baby thoughts).

I waited and waited, and still felt nothing. My voice quavering, I told Patrick that I was really scared.

Patrick took one look at me and said "let's go to the hospital." So... we did. I was put into L&D triage, and they strapped me up to the monitors. The nurse was having a hard time finding his heart beat and I started to panic. Then, after a minute or two, there was the blissful thumpthumpthump that I was so longing to hear. He was active with accelerations and decelerations for the first five minutes or so of the test, and while I was having contractions, they weren't really painful at all. Then he sort of slowed down, and wouldn't move. The nurse had me turn on my side and see if that would help. I still hadn't felt him move by this point, and was starting to feel nervous.

His heartrate eventually went back to a "normal" pattern, and the nurse checked me to see where I was from a dilation standpoint. At a 2.5 or "slightly more" - the wetness I'd been feeling the last few days was just watery discharge, and not leaking amniotic fluid.

He moved twice while I was at the hospital, but that was it.

They sent me for another ultrasound, and the AFI (amniotic fluid index) came back at 12 something - so he's fine there. Based on my last menstrual period, his due date is tomorrow. I am so ready for him to be here.

Stripped.

2008-04-22T13:23:00.000-05:00

Last night when Patrick got home we went for a walk in the neighborhood until the contractions were so strong that I could barely walk through them. When we got home, they stopped temporarily. I got horribly, horribly sick and went to bed. In the middle of the night, they started back up - and I woke myself and Patrick screaming out with pain. They eventually subsided and I was able to drift in and out of sleep for a few hours.

This morning at 11 a.m. I went to the doctor's office. I'm now 38 weeks plus a few days (according to the early ultrasound - over 39 weeks based on when I got my first positive HPT on August 20). I'm 2 cm. dilated and 80% effaced. She stripped my membranes - and I'm bleeding pretty badly from it.

She said that she won't induce me until May 1st. I'm contracting hard now - and hoping that stripping my membranes will trigger real labor. If not, I'm to be at the hospital at 6:30 a.m. on the first (a week from Thursday) for pitocin, and the doctor will be there to break my water at 7:30. I am so excited, and so ready to have him here.

Full Pink Moon

2008-04-20T22:30:00.000-05:00

And no - the title is not referring to me dropping trou on anyone.

Tonight is a full moon - the "full pink moon" to be exact. Did you know each of the full moons for every month have a specific name? Well, they do - April's name came from the herb moss pink, or wild ground phlox, which is one of the earliest widespread flowers of the spring. Other names for this month's celestial body include the Full Sprouting Grass Moon, the Egg Moon, and among coastal tribes the Full Fish Moon, because this was the time that the shad swam upstream to spawn.

Allegedly, women who are close to giving birth are more apt to do so at the full moon. This is of course, complete hogwash if you ask me. The theory is that the moon's gravitational pull effects the amniotic fluid in much the same way as it effects the water in the sea, rivers and even the water that's otherwise found in our bodies.

As a woman's body prepares for natural childbirth, the amniotic sac becomes distended so the point where it will easily burst if put under pressure. Under normal circumstances, the pressure of labor contractions bursts the sac. During a full moon, the pressure caused by the moon's effect on the water inside the sac can cause the same things to happen, but without the accompanying contractions.

I spent the ENTIRE day with the following activities: sex, more sex, heavy gardening and planting in the backyard, walking the grocery store aisles (including what looks like breaking my pinky toe on a cart at Whole Foods - and sobbing in the produce section when it started turning black), eating eggplant, trolling bookstores, etc.

Contractions have been pretty lame to tell the truth - and I am convinced (sorely so) that this kid is just NOT going to make an appearance anytime this month. Cue much wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Oh, and did I mention I have a raging sinus and ear infection? I am not pleasant to be around right now. I think I'm about to go cuddle up with my pint of Wattleseed ice cream (or "Waddle-seed" as Patrick has renamed it given my current state) and call it a night.

Non-responsive.

2008-04-16T20:27:00.000-05:00

I'm still only dilated to around a 1. The doctor said that my cervix wasn't even open enough to try to strip my membranes. I begged and pleaded for her to induce me, and she laughed and said no. Not this week. Instead she said we could talk about it next week after weighing the risks (lung maturity, etc.) In the meantime she encouraged me to walk as much as I wanted, to try to help open my cervix more.

Patrick worked from home today so that he could go with me to the doctor's office. I noticed that I'd been feeling Julian move a lot less lately. I thought that perhaps he was just running out of room, but it was concerning. At my doctor's appointment today, I mentioned it in passing and she said she wanted me to have a non-stress test in the office before we left. So they strapped me up with the monitors, and started the test. The baby was sleeping, I guess because he wasn't very active. The nurse brought me a package of Lorna Doone shortbread cookies, and asked me to eat them - hoping it would wake him up a bit. It didn't. Next was a giant bottle of ice water which also didn't work. Finally, they gave me some apple juice and that also didn't seem to stir him much. In total, he moved twice in about thirty minutes. The nurse took the report out to the doctor. The doctor came in and said "I need you to go to the hospital for more monitoring." I laughed - thinking she was teasing as the nurse hadn't seemed concerned with the report. I asked "what day do you need me to make the appointment?" She said "I need you to go now. She said that we would be there for a few hours. And then she said "I need you to go right now - as soon as you leave this office." The floor started feeling woozy beneath me, and I asked "well can we stop for lunch on the way over there?" She replied "only if you stop somewhere with a quick drive through."

We rushed out of her office and drove the thirty minutes or so to the hospital, with me panicked all the way. Patrick was surprisingly calm and told me that we'd be fine. That everything would be o.k.

We stopped for some burritos on the way and then made it up to labor and delivery triage. They sent me down for a bio-physical profile of the baby via ultrasound which showed that he was practicing his breathing and was moving fine. Then I was sent back upstairs for a non-stress test. Julian's heartbeat was between 145-150 with dips as low as 130 and as high as 175. He didn't move that often, but he was far more active. Unfortunately, after I'd been hooked up to the blood pressure monitor the nurse dashed out of the room. An hour and twenty minutes later, I was still hooked up to it - thought it had thankfully deflated on its own. I didn't take it off because there were a lot of monitor-y looking wires that were connected to the machine. The room was swelteringly hot - and poor Patrick was bored out of his mind. As it turns out, there were two deliveries back to back which is why the nurse disappeared on us for so long. It was kind of scary though.

All in all, there was far more excitement in the day than I'd hoped for - er, at least not the same kind that I'd hoped.

But he's o.k. and I'm to go back to the doctor next week - assuming I don't go into labor before then.

Not even doing my taxes helped.

2008-04-15T11:48:00.000-05:00

I've been having fairly consistent contractions on and off since Friday. Mind you, I'm still sitting at my desk at home - so they haven't progressed into anything "real."

Friday night I was having to actively manage my breathing to get through them, and thought I'd just go lay down in our bed to get a short nap in before (what I thought at the time would inevitably be) the trip to the hospital. While I napped, Patrick packed the bag, and then they stopped.

Saturday was rainy/snowy and gross, so we went to every single large store we could find and I just walked the aisles. I walked so much that my feet were so swollen I could not move my toes. I've always prided myself on my slender ankles (an odd thing - but it's the only part of me that's always been thin). I literally am so swollen that I have fat rolls on my ankle. My toes look like sausages. Contractions were fairly constant as long as I was moving, but as soon as I stopped they stopped.

Sunday the weather was unseasonably cool but clear and we went strolling in the neighborhood for ages. I came back home, and started working on our taxes (federal and THREE states. meh) and not even the stress of that could keep them going.

I've tried nearly every old wives tale possible short of castor oil. And I'm sorry - but I'm just not going there.

I am so ready for him to just be here already. I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow morning, and am going to beg the doctor to induce me. I can't take much more of this.

My gravity is broken.

2008-04-11T08:20:00.001-05:00

Last night we went to our favorite little intimate Italian restaurant, hoping that we'd enjoy what perhaps would be our "final" night out as just a couple. The food was fantastic - but... apparently my body doesn't like being bribed with food.

My little sister's ultrasound was yesterday, she's also having a boy. She's due September 2nd, on her mom's birthday. I'm excited for her, but feel bad in a way - everyone was hoping she'd have a girl, since I was having a boy. I'm actually happier that she's having a boy. Partially for selfish reasons that I'm even too embarrassed to go into here. But I also like that our sons will be so close in age.

I woke up this morning at 4 with a raging ear ache. No fever, but my head is swimming and my equilibrium is way off. Only, in my sleepy stupor this morning I kept telling Patrick that my gravity was broken, and he looked at me like I had three heads. I was trying to say equilibrium, but couldn't remember the word for it.

We gave the uh, "natural prostaglandin" approach a try this morning. Let's just say that sex was a lot more fun when you aren't feeling like a beached whale - who has a broken gravity ;)

So now my ears are full of rubbing alcohol. It's actually pretty and sunny for a change outside, so I may try the "walk through the neighborhood" approach in a bit. There are signs that spring is actually upon us - if I can ignore the fact that it's supposed to snow again tomorrow.

Unplugged.

2008-04-10T16:16:00.001-05:00

I just lost my mucous plug, or at least part of it. I think, at least. I called the doctor's office and described what I saw. It was pretty gross. The nurse said it sounded pretty much textbook for what it should look like. She said it could be tomorrow or could be two weeks.

I have a mild backache, and contractions are here - but not rhythmic. Just a ton of pressure in my back and pelvis.

I'm going to pack my bag. Anyone have any "must haves" for the hospital that they took - or stuff you took and wish you hadn't wasted your time packing?

What did you (or would you - if you were me) bring for the baby to come home in?

Insomnia

2008-04-09T05:24:00.000-05:00

It was pouring down rain all day yesterday, so we went to Costco so I could walk the aisles and try to see if things would get moving. Then I ate a giant meal of Mexican food - which an old wives tale says will trigger labor. Labor? Pffft - all it triggered was some serious heartburn. I would've bet cash money that I could've belched fire if I'd tried.

All day yesterday I was racked with horrible contractions - but they abruptly stopped about 5 p.m. It's now 5:20 a.m. and I've now been up for three and a half hours. The contractions are back, but it still doesn't feel like anything productive is happening. Just kind of uncomfortable pressure and a nagging backache. I went downstairs because my tossing and turning had woken up Patrick, Ennis and Jack. I figured someone ought to be able to sleep if I couldn't, so I'm now sitting at the desk in the office bundled up in a blue blanket. Jack and Ennis have both come down to check on what's going on - and have been meowing incessantly. Thankfully, I think they've both wandered off to finally go back to sleep.

Looking out through the old mottled glass window - our neighborhood is gently bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. The storms that were earlier pummeling the roof with rain have apparently moved on, and the tree limbs seem eerily still in the calm quiet of the night.

I made my one-year anniversary for work as of midnight - so I now qualify for 6 months of maternity leave. That means you can make your appearance any time now, J. Granted, there are things I still need to finish, some cleaning to be done, etc. but for the most part - I'm ready.

As ready as I'm going to be at least.

The songbirds are starting to stir in the branches, and their melodic songs are signaling that I need to try to sleep for an hour or two before Patrick has to leave for work.

You're putting your fingers WHERE?

2008-04-08T09:37:00.000-05:00

Two weeks ago, I was 1 cm dilated, and my cervix was soft - but still over 3.6 cm long. My cervix is apparently a "shower." I was measuring over 37 weeks then, and was feeling enormous.

On Friday morning I started experiencing unbearable pressure and pain in my pelvis. It literally felt as if I was splitting apart from the inside. I couldn't walk the pain was so intense, and I just sat at the desk or laid on the couch and writhed in agony. I am such a martyr at times...

Yesterday morning I went in for my 36 week checkup, and of course my doctor is out of town until Sunday. I met with a very socially awkward nurse practitioner instead - with a limp fish handshake. She examined me, and said I was measuring just below 37 weeks (fundal height - with the tape measurer) and that I must have dropped since the last time I was in. Considering I could breathe without feeling like I was going to wheeze to death for the last week - I thought that I had. That and my belly is differently shaped now. Where it was high and round before it's now ski-sloped shape and protrudes differently. Julian's also kicking me about four inches or so below where he was last week.

She did an internal, and proclaimed that my cervical length was now less than 1 cm - so I am over 75% effaced. I was still between a 1-2cm dilated, so she said "I'm going to see if I can stretch things out a bit and get the show on the road." She slipped her finger(s) in my cervix and proceeded to slowly (and excruciatingly) stretch it out. I was hit by a wave of nausea when she was doing it, and felt suddenly lightheaded and hot. All the thoughts I had of natural childbirth basically went out the window as I literally came up off the table as she was doing that. If those were just her fingers... I shudder to think about what the baby's head would feel like. She pulled her gloved hands out and showed me that I was bleeding and said I'd likely bleed some throughout the night (which I did - in conjunction with cramping and contractions that were strong, but not rhythmic).

If I can make it to midnight tonight, I'll get my six months of maternity leave. I go back tomorrow morning for them to do an ultrasound of Julian to see how his growth is progressing. I think tonight I'll start finishing up the last of the projects that I want to get done before he comes - and start the walking/sex after packing my bag.

I'm ready to meet him. I'm petrified of labor and of actually being a parent, but I'm so ready to just hold him.

Please make it stop.

2008-03-25T09:35:00.001-05:00

This weekend I had a burst of energy. We took a trip to IKEA - and sweet jumping jesus on a pogo stick - how enormous is that store - and picked out some giant bookshelves and a desk to fill out Patrick's office until we find something we like better. While the Saab has pretty good cargo room, we still picked out way more stuff than could fit in one trip. So we ended up coming back on Saturday to pick up more of it - and then he had to pick up the desk last night. Sunday, my lower back was hurting pretty badly so we decided to go to Meijer and Whole Foods and stock up on things so that if the baby decided to make an early appearance we'd have a supply of provisions for awhile. While in Meijer, I was cringing with every step. Sharp pain was racing through my body, and I was in tears. I had to make four pit stops to go to the bathroom while we were grocery shopping at one store. I was never able to pass more than about a tablespoon of urine at a time, and the last two times, it was just blood.

Sunday night in bed, I got the shakes really bad and started getting extremely nauseous. I slept fitfully from about 8:30 p.m. until 5 a.m. - waking up crying from the pain in my lower back.

Monday morning I high-tailed it to the doctor's office, and they did a preliminary urine check and said it was fine. A little over a year ago, I had a bladder infection that was so bad that I was passing blood clots almost the size of nickels in my urine. There was so much blood in my urine that my old doctor was arguing with me that I must be mistaken and just be on my period. I wasn't. I know my body.

I told the doctor yesterday that I needed her to run labs. Something was very wrong. My kidneys felt like they were exploding in my back, and the pain was making me dizzy. I've been somewhat of a martyr over this pregnancy, and never took painkillers even when things were very bad. But the last two days, I've been chewing through extra strength Tylenol like they're candy. And it's not doing a damn thing for me.

The doctor said that with the amount of blood I was describing and the deep pain in my kidney that it's likely kidney stones. She said that unfortunately there's not a lot that they can do about it if I have one until after the baby comes. She had me get labs done, and they called me yesterday at 5:02. I was on the other line for work, and called them back literally within a minute and a half, tops. But, the operator informed me that she couldn't put me through to the front desk because their phones are turned off at 5:00 p.m.

So, another night of agony.

This morning, I called as soon as they were open. Sure enough, I have a raging bladder infection. As it turns out, peeing blood isn't normal. It hurts tremendously, and I'm waiting for the pharmacy to fill my prescription.

I just hope we've caught it in time for it not to have developed into a kidney infection. My poor kidneys are stressed enough as it is.

Oh, and the one stretchmark I was so proud of? Yeah. About that. I have about another twenty or so angry deep purple marks traversing my abdomen now. They weren't there a week ago, and then suddenly, they just appeared en masse. I'm really self-conscious about them, but Patrick's been very loving about it.

Oh. Still measuring large. Over 37 weeks yesterday, and a fingertip dilated.

Just two 14 days or so (edited to say - until I manage to qualify for an additional month of paid maternity leave. I'm actually only 34 weeks right now according to my early ultrasound).

God, I hope he can stay put for that long.

And no cadbury eggs, to boot.

2008-03-20T21:06:00.001-05:00

I had a doctor's appointment this morning at 10:00, so at 9:40ish I moseyed (dear Gawwwwwwd did I just say "moseyed"?) to the garage, hopped in, turned the key and ...

Nothing.

Not a damn thing happened.

My battery has been acting screwy lately, so I popped the hood, scraped off what corrosion I could see from the battery post and plugged in the external battery charger that we keep for such purposes.

I called the doctor and said I was running late.

In 15 minutes, it showed that it was completely charged so I tried again.

Still no go.

I called our roadside assistance plan, and then the doctor to reschedule the appointment. I spent the majority of the afternoon at Wal-Mart, getting the battery replaced and when I got home I was so irritated that I sequestered myself in my office/craft room in the basement and set about organizing my scrapbook stuff.

All in all, a completely worthless day - but that's o.k.

It's one more day (so far, at least - that J wasn't born).

The things they don't tell you...

2008-03-17T11:55:00.000-05:00

As of today, I'm officially 33 weeks pregnant according to the 5/5/08 due date. I had an ultrasound last week to check on J's growth, the perinatologist said that he's conservatively estimated to weigh 5 lbs. 11 oz. He's supposed to be about 3 lbs. 12 oz, which is exactly what he weighed a month ago. He's apparently over the 95th percentile for size, and the doctor said he's essentially just "linebacker" material. The doctor said that they're contemplating making me retake the 3 hour glucose test.

Add to that the excess amniotic fluid, and I'm measuring a full month ahead (which is why my contractions have been so bad - my body thinks I'm near term when I really have about 7 weeks to go). He's healthy though, and that's all that matters to me. I shuddered when the doctor told me that first babies are usually late, and usually the smallest. Hopefully that won't be the case for me.

During the ultrasound, he was practicing his breathing, and I sat mesmerized watching his diaphragm move rhythmically. To say that I'm already madly in love with him would be a vast understatement.

However, I am quickly growing tired of being pregnant.

There are things about the last parts of pregnancy that no one really talks about - that I feel obligated to dish on, even at the risk of embarrassing myself.

1. You will leak, a variety of bodily fluids.

My breasts have been leaking colostrum since around the 15th week or so, but now - sexual arousal or a hot shower is almost a guaranteed gush (at least from the right side). Another thing, dried colostrum is sticky. Very sticky. I find that I'm peeling my nipples from the inside of my bras more often than I'd like to admit. Very sexy, no?

"Urine for a big surprise" - I prided myself for years on the fact that I was potty-trained at about 18 months. I've done more kegels than I thought humanly possible. And yet, if I cough too hard or sneeze, or laugh too heartily there's a very real danger of what is pleasantly called "stress incontinence" but in reality is just you pissing your pants. The only thing I can say is go when the urge strikes (which is about every 45 minutes now as the baby is using my bladder as a trampoline).

Other "unmentionable" leaking. I never had the prolific vaginal discharge that was described in the pregnancy books as common in the first two trimesters. If anything, my delicate lady bits were so dry that they were practically sub-saharan. Now, though - my god. It's apparently monsoon season between my thighs.

2. You will snore. A lot. I'm now wearing breathe-right strips every single night, sometimes two at a time (and regardless of the fact that I'm allergic to the adhesive they're coated with). If I don't wear them, Patrick can't sleep because I can now apparently out-snore lumberjacks.

3. Everyone will tell you that you should catch up on a lot of sleep now before the baby comes, but the cruel irony is that YOU CANNOT SLEEP. I sleep in 45 minute increments - tops before waking up due to night sweats, having to pee (again), or crazy psychotic dreams resulting from pregnancy hormones. And then there's just the uncomfortableness of the extra weight in your abdomen that makes it impossible to get comfortable. Oh. and maybe I'm just a lucky one, but my babe apparently thinks 2-5:30 a.m. is time to slam dance inside. Every. Single. Night. I wake up every morning exhausted.

4. More bathroom TMI. I've spent my life perpetually constipated, even going as long as 18 days before I actually broke down and had to go. There. I said it. I hate pooping. Pregnancy, however, seems to have reversed this trend for me. In the last week, I've actually gone up to six times a day. I'm really ready for this to be over.

5. There will come a point, more quickly than you'll imagine, where your maternity shirts no longer cover the bottom of your belly. All the cute little tops you thought you'd never fill out will now seemingly be made for a waif. A waif who is not pregnant and does not have boobs.
6. Speaking of boobs, your boobs will continue to grow. I was told that most large breasted women didn't grow much. Whoever told me this is a liar. I was a large size D when I started this pregnancy business. I'm now spilling out of a DD - and am shuddering thinking about how huge they're going to be once my milk comes in.

7. You will justify the most random and extravagant expenses (especially if this is your first child). We finally broke down and bought our stroller (a Mutsy Urban Rider) and car seat (Maxi-Cosi). Mind you, when we first started looking, we were appalled at the cost of the $200 Graco 'travel system' which had both. I'm actually hoping we have another one so we can reuse the stroller.

I only need 22 more days before J comes in order to qualify for the extra month of maternity benefits. I just got a pretty hefty raise that's retroactive to January 1st, so my leave benefits will be a lot more lucrative. I'd still like that extra paid month and the unpaid time. I've been crampy and contracting all morning, but that's not really anything new. Still. Patrick's petrified that I'm going to go into labor this week for some reason. I hope not.

Work has been insanely busy this last week, so I've barely had time to breathe - let alone enjoy working from home. I'm ready to actually be on leave.

Oh. and I just ordered a kit from Mama's Belly after talking to Maggie,the artist. She's letting us pay the item out, and I'm delighted, as I couldn't justify spending all of it right now before he's born.

An unwelcome surprise

2008-03-06T08:08:00.000-06:00

Last night my lower back started aching rather badly, and I ended up asleep before 9:30. Though "asleep" is a bit of a misnomer, as I slept in 15-30 minute fits all night. I think part of it was the new bed and mattress got delivered yesterday, and I'm not used to it yet - and part of it is that I was sleeping on "his" side of the bed instead of mine. I'd fallen asleep first, so he just left me where I was, and got into bed on my side. At 4:00, I finally gave up and went downstairs to work on finishing a document for work (something I do often, as the first thing in the morning like that I seem to be most productive). Tired, and frustrated, I went back upstairs to caroused him into a little action, thinking that (since I appear to be wired like a man, and when it's over I'm out cold - but could you go make me a sandwich before I fall asleep?). I started cramping really badly immediately after, to the point that I lost control and started sobbing. Then I went to the bathroom to clean up - and noticed that I had bright pink blood running down my legs, pooling onto the hexagonal tile floor.

I have a doctor's appointment at 10 a.m. The baby is really active this morning, and I'm hoping it's just an abrasion on my cervix.

But in the meantime, I'm scared. The strong cramping has stopped, but my lower back is aching and there's a weird feeling of pressure inside my vagina that I can't describe. Did I mention I have a work deadline today that I cannot miss?

Here's hoping that she says we're fine and sends me back home so I can finish up my project.

----
Updated: Embarassingly (though thankfully) the bleeding was just due to the "high vascularity" and "general crankiness" of my cervix. I picture my cervix looking something like the cranky old woman "Maxine" in the Hallmark line of cards, dirty coffee cup in one hand, cigarette with excess ash hanging from the os - while mumbling about how unfair life is. I'm afraid in my sleep-deprived mind I've blatantly lifted that from another blogger because it's almost too vivid to be of my own fuzzy brain at the moment.

In other news, while I should be at 31 weeks I am still consistently measuring far ahead, nearing 35.5 weeks. I've somehow gained six pounds in two weeks (GASP!). I've got another ultrasound scheduled for next week to approximate his weight. The doctor said that if I start experiencing pre-term labor in the next three weeks, we'll try to stop it - but after that - it's all systems go if he decides to make his appearance. I'll likely be required to have a c-section if he's estimated to be over 10.5 pounds at the time of birth.

I also apparently have an anterior placenta (my placenta is attached on the wall of my uterus beneath my belly button, rather than the posterior, or back wall which is typical in about 85% of pregnancies). Generally babies will face the placenta, which means in the vast majority of cases that as labor nears, the baby is head down and facing the mother's spine. This particular position allows the smallest part of the head to present first, easing birth. J is head down, but he's "sunny side up" and acing my stomach. If he doesn't turn (which there is thankfully still plenty of time for him to do so) I may be looking forward to longer (and more painful than usual) labor. Fun. If the placenta doesn't "move" upward enough, there are additional dangers in a c-section, as they will have to cut through the placenta in order to deliver him.

Oh. and joy of joys. I have to have a follow up three hour glucose test. Again. Given how large I'm measuring, and the fact that I failed my first glucose screening, they want me to do the three hour test again.

Afro to fumanchu

2008-03-03T10:25:00.001-06:00

I have a confession to make, and this is a post all about pubic hair.

It's been about 2 months since I could comfortably see the "area" or - as one of my coworkers felt the need to share with me - my "lady garden." Thus, let's say that well - the garden was a bit unkempt. When I was in seventh grade, we watched the Nova Miracle of Life movie in my science class - and when the birth scene started some guy in the back row shouted out "OH MY GOD, WHAT A HUGE BUSH!" leaving Coach Hall (why in Texas are middle school science teachers always coaches?) so startled that he fell off the counter he was sitting on in the back of the class. Anyway, I could've done a stand in for this woman's 70s porno bush.

Before I met Patrick, I tended to keep things very, very short on top, and shaved everywhere else. My ex preferred the entire thing to be waxed/shaved bare but it was well, itchy and honestly I felt a little creepy being completely bare. The pre-pubescent look just wasn't for me and at least a little bit of hair seemed to provide some protection against chafing. And let's face it. Lady bits? Do not like to be chafed.

Anyway, Patrick was much more supportive of the "natural but contained" look, and as I'd never really experienced it before - I have to admit, it was sort of liberating. Just mind the bikini line and trim things up a bit, but leave the natural triangle shape.

However, now that I'm so hugely pregnant, I can't really tidy things up so well. So laziness set in and I've just sort of let it all go to hell in a handbasket. The doctor said that I could start swimming some, as it would relieve the pressure of carrying around the extra weight on my back and wouldn't likely aggravate the contractions like walking does. Our gym has a warm therapy pool that sounded heavenly so I found a maternity swimsuit and though I was in business.

Then I realized I may not be able to see the pelt that is quickly growing over the region, but other people would be, aside from the fact that it was so uh, fluffy that it would give me a fake penis look. So, this morning I decided to grab Patrick's beard trimmer and give it a quick once over.

I've been up since 4 a.m. working on finishing something up for work, so I have to admit I wasn't clearly thinking. I forgot to put a guard on the shaver. And, my arms are apparently not long enough to really reach all of the important bits, so I've mangled things a bit. Quite literally, I'm afraid as apparently if you nick your nether regions with those, it leads to a lot of blood.

So I now have ... what can only be described as a cross between a reversed landing strip and a fumanchu. I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to fix this before he gets home because if he sees it, I'm afraid he'll die laughing before he's able to fix it for me.

On a completely unrelated note, we were extremely ridiculous this weekend and bought ourselves a new bed. We both came into our relationship with beds that had been shared with exes, and it really, really bothered me. We compromised a bit, and slept in my bed frame and his mattress, but it irked me. Since I don't sleep at night, these are the kind of things I worry about. Anyway... we went to the Macy's Furniture Outlet and bought a bed that is so incredibly beautiful I may marry it. Of course, I'll have to - as it's a Barbara Barry and there's no way we'll ever get rid of it because of the cost. We also managed an amazing deal on a mattress set that was originally $2800 that we got for $550. The bed. Yeah. Not that good of a deal. It's being delivered on Wed. and I am so freaking excited.

40 days and 40 nights.

2008-02-28T17:46:00.000-06:00

I've been working from home since February 2nd, and I'll be honest - it's a lot harder to do than one would imagine. Take for instance the fact that today I had to fax something to work - which necessitated a trip to FedEx/Kinkos as we don't have a land line (something I'm going to have to fix - as given the number of conference calls I've been on lately my minutes are going into unchartered OH MY FUCKING GOD THIS IS GOING TO BE EXPENSIVE levels). And, while I could've scanned the documents and e-mailed them, the scanner/copier/fax we bought isn't compatible with Mac's Leopard operating system, so it's unusable to me at the moment. So, a trip to FedEx to send a fax cost me $1.49 for the first page and $.99 for each remaining page. And it took about 2 minutes per page for the fax to go through, so it was a looooooong expensive excursion.

The Braxton Hicks contractions I've been having are increasing with regularity and apparently I'm one of the "lucky" ones who have really strong contractions that border on downright painful at times. The other night, I was convinced I was about to go into labor as they were coming with increasing strength and frequency. Patrick was timing them and begging me to pack a bag. Instead, I had a glass of wine (it's what my doctor recommended, and I actually only drank about half of it) and promptly fell asleep on the couch. Thankfully they seemed to ease up with the nap. Based on the earliest ultrasound I had, they put the estimated due date at May 5th. I've still never understood how this was possible given that I found out at home on August 20th and have been measuring ahead the entire time, but what do I know? Anyway, based on that date, I'm only 30 weeks, 4 days along. Three weeks ago, I was measuring close to 32 weeks via ultrasound. I need J to hang tight for exactly 40 days and 40 nights before he makes his appearance.

I got an email today from my advisor at work, and he said that if something were to happen now, I'm entitled to 8 weeks at 100% of pay based on my short term disability policy. That's great as I honestly thought I wouldn't be entitled to any leave as I haven't been with the firm a year yet. However, if I can make it to my one year anniversary with the firm (I started April 9th last year) I'm entitled to 12 weeks at full pay and an additional 8 or 12 weeks of unpaid leave. We were contemplating me taking some additional unpaid leave, but that won't be possible if J comes early.

Now, they say most first pregnancies last longer. However, based on the number of contractions I've had, the amount of amniotic fluid J is lounging around in and the fact that he appears to be a giant (or at least has delusions of such) they're betting I won't make it that long. So, at this point - I'm asking for any old wives tales that might exist for how to keep the kid cosy inside for at least another 40 days. I've read all kinds of urban legends about how to get labor started, but what I want to know is how to prevent it.

The revolving door

2008-02-21T13:14:00.000-06:00

As I mentioned in the last post, Patrick and I live 15 hours away from our parents (his parents live about 80 miles from my dad and stepmom, and about 40 miles from my mom).

My dad, stepmom and three sisters as well as my mom and his parents all want to be here for the birth. Patrick's taking a week off after the baby is born, with the intention that we take time to we bond together as a family.

The problem is of course that everyone wants to stay with us. We have a four bedroom house - but one bedroom is an office and one is the nursery. That leaves us with only one guest room. Technically two people, possibly three could sleep comfortably on the couch (we have a giant sectional with a chaise). But... while I do want everyone to come up and see us -I also don't want anyone in the delivery room with me. I would like a few extra days for us to just bond together without having everyone come up at once. Having company over stresses me out incredibly - and I would like to have some time just to get to know our son.

Does anyone have any advice about how to schedule them coming up without hurting feelings? I know that everyone will want to be the "first" to be here, but honestly -it would help us a lot more to stretch out the visits a bit. Everyone's starting to pressure us about when they'll be able to come, and it's making me crazy. I don't want to hurt any feelings - but I really want some time for "just us."

I'm going to be an aunt, or so I've been told.

2008-02-19T22:09:00.000-06:00

I found out today that my younger sister is pregnant.

She's 21, the oldest of my three younger sisters. She's due September 8th. She was allegedly off birth control pills for three weeks when she got pregnant because she didn't want to fork out the money for a replacement pack when she had a temporary lapse in her health insurance coverage due to an administrative error.

She still hasn't told me, or our dad. Her mom (my stepmom) told me last night on the phone when I asked how she was doing. I guess she's about 10 weeks along now.

About two weeks ago, I saw something innocuous on her myspace page - a message from her best friend asking if she'd gone to the doctor yet. Her response, "no - just the nurse so far." And I looked up - and told Patrick "I'll bet you cash money my sister is pregnant." He laughed at me and told me not to get myself worked up.

Our birthdays are 6 years and 4 days apart, and the entire time growing up we always had to have joint birthday parties on HER birthday because it was a national holiday, and people were typically off work on her birthday. I always felt like she got preferential treatment. She got braces. I didn't. My parents (well, my dad and her mom) loaned money to help put her through school (she's still not finished). On the day I got married to my first husband, they took her to get her hair and nails done. I did my own. They paid for her car (they still do) and her car insurance. Granted, my dad has occasionally helped me with new tires or repairs, but never actually paid for my car. She's still on their health insurance. I paid for all of my own school - with my own debt. They did pay for a year of car insurance for me, and a semester of gas when I was tight on money. And they paid $1500 for a month of rent for me my first year of law school when I got into so much financial trouble.

She and her boyfriend are buying a house less than 10 minutes from our parents. Patrick and I live about 15 hours away. Rationally, I know she didn't do this to steal my thunder. I know she's going to have a lot on her plate. She's not finished with school. I know she was sleeping with someone else while she and her boyfriend where on a "break" less than a year ago - as she brought the new guy up to visit us. She has told me before that she's not sure she's in love with her boyfriend. She's only 21 - and while a LOT of her friends have children, this is scary. I know that she needs a support system and feels alone. My parents were very supportive of my pregnancy, and aren't showing her the same support. I know that part of it is that I'm older. I've finished school. I have a career. She doesn't.

I want to be happy for her, but I'm hurt. I was so excited about the fact that we'd have the only grandchild on my parents' side since Patrick's sister has six. I was so excited that for once, I'd have the undivided attention of my family. I'm hurt that she didn't tell me - and that she still hasn't yet.

I'm overwhelmed by the news really.

I don't know whether to say something to her - to let her know I'm here if she wants to talk and needs advice. Or whether she's trying to make it clear that she doesn't want my input.

Sigh. I'm actually glad that my stepmother was the one who told me, as I broke down in tears when I heard the news. I feel so ashamed for that reaction - but it was visceral, real. It was terribly selfish of me, and I worry about what that says about me as a person.

...

And on a completely unrelated note - here's a shot of Julian from tonight. The entire ultrasound he had his hand squarely in front of his face - and that coupled with the placenta on the front of the uterus made it nearly impossible to get a shot of his face.

Seven Pounds, a Crib, a Peek and a Nest.

2008-02-19T07:27:00.000-06:00

Inexplicably, I've gained seven pounds over the last two weeks. How this happened I don't understand. I've actually been trying to stall my weight gain, and have been eating remarkably healthy. Lots of steamed vegetables, an occaional piece of fish, and little to no cheese (my primary diet staple - and bane of the scale).

So yesterday when I weighed myself, I was somewhat dumbfounded. Today, it's the same. I'm afraid when I go to the doctor's office today she's going to be like "what the hell are you doing? eating trays of brownies???" To which I wish the answer was at least yes, rather than the honest no. I've actually been eating very little because the kidlet is jammed up into my stomach - making large meals impossible. And let's be honest, I'm too lazy these days to actually make multiple meals.

In other news, his crib is on the fedex truck for delivery today. To say that I'm excited about finally receiving the last bit of the nursery is an understatement. Of course, they'll come when I'm at the doctor's office for sure.

Tonight we have an appointment for a follow up 3d ultrasound. I'm excited about that too.

And the nesting bug has hit hard core. Friday night I rearranged everything in the 'frig, the two freezers and the pantry. Crazy organization. Everything is pristine in there. Saturday - I hit the closet. Sunday it was the armoire and part of the office, including the bookshelves. Yesterday, it was our bathroom and the guest room and finally burning a giant stack of cds onto itunes. Everything in the bathroom is not only organized, but put into little containers or baggies. [As a side note, if you need body lotion, apparently I'm your girl. I have an entire drawer full of body lotion apparently.] It's insane. Patrick had a good laugh at how meticulous I was being but mentioned how nice it was this morning while he was getting ready for work.

Thankfully, the nesting bug is wearing off on him too and without any prodding on my part he vaccuumed the hallways, all the area rugs, and the stairs. He also rearranged furniture in the office (which is sort of "his" room) and the office area in the basement that I've claimed for a craft room. Oh, and he did five loads of laundry yesterday - and PUT THEM AWAY. And did other odd things like update the lightbulbs in the multitude of lamps and fixtures we have with compact fluorescent bulbs. He also dragged out about fifty frames into the living room (that have nothing in them) and said tonight we're finally figuring out what artwork/photographs are going to be framed and actually hung up in our house. That will clear up all kinds of clutter.

Tagged.

2008-02-18T21:52:00.000-06:00

Tagged by Cat.

1) Link to the person that tagged you.
2) Post the rules on your blog.
3) Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
4) Tag at least 3 people at the end of your post and link to their blogs.
5) Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
6) Let the fun begin!

Hmmm. Six non-important things/habits/quirks about me. Let's see...

1. I'm an organization nazi. I have weird ways of organizing everything in my life - the closet, the pantry, the bathroom drawers, etc. And it takes a LONG time to get it just the way I want it. And, I'd rather have complete chaos than a system other than my own. My closet, for instance, is organized by color, fabric, sleeve length, skirt length, etc. I can't stand it when someone tries to disrupt my system. The pantry is organized by type of food. All labels have to be front and center, etc. DVDs and books are alphabetized etc. And yet... my house is almost always messy.

2. I almost always have my toenails painted a shade of pink or red. My fingernails however are almost always unpainted, or if I'm feeling particularly adventurous - clear. Since I've been pregnant though that's gone by the wayside and embarassingly (why embarassingly? I don't know. It just bothers me) my toenails are completely natural right now. Colors like blue, green and purple make me freak out. And don't even get me started with airbrushing...

3. I have an amazing sense of smell, and remember times, places and people by their scent.

4. My tongue is abnormally short. The lingual frenulum (the little piece that connects to the underside of your tongue from the bottom of your mouth) should've been cut when I was a baby but wasn't. I can still pull the bar trick of tying a knot in a cherry stem though.

5. I've only mowed a yard one time, when I was about 10. I ran over a blue rosebush in my Granny's yard and I never was allowed to again. I don't even know how to start a gas-powered mower. We just bought an electric mower, and I don't know how to operate it either.

For 99+ other random facts about me, go here.

Hmm. And who to tag? If you haven't been tagged - and are willing to participate, consider yourself up.

Slowly creeping down

2008-02-14T09:59:00.001-06:00

Very few people know this, but when my ex-husband Michael and I were married, I had horrible credit. Really, really bad. I'd gotten into serious financial trouble in law school, and let my credit card bills get out of control. Then I had to quit work for school, and didn't have enough money to make even the minimum payments because I was stretched too thin living in an apartment that I really couldn't afford. I struggled for a few months paying minimum balances with student loan money - but in the end embarassingly, many of them were cancelled by the companies as bad debt.

I've struggled for the last five years to pay off the $20,000+ I owed. But, I paid off every cent. I never settled the accounts for less, even though that option was extended to me time and again. I incurred the debt, and I felt morally obligated to pay them off. And, I was applying to three state bars during that time, and I had to show that I was a reputable person.

Even after unscrupulous credit collection agencies contacted my manager and told them that I was a deadbeat (a blatant violation of the Fair Debt Collection Practices Act) who had skipped out on her debt. [That would be Risk Management Alternatives, who I had to fight tooth and nail to prove that I had already paid the debt via cancelled checks, and it still took them over nine months to fix the error. In the meantime, they called my house, my cell phone, my job upwards of 20-30 times a day... one particular employee cursed at me, threatened me with physical harm, called me a whore, a loser, a joke, etc. When I would attempt to make payment arrangements they would laugh and hang up.]

Patrick's credit is impeccable, though he also struggled a great deal with repairing his credit while going through his divorce. One of the conditions of my divorce was that Michael had to refinance the house (I let him keep it - and all equity in it, much to the shock and horror of most of my family and friends) within a "reasonable time." I was trying to be patient, because I knew he still had lousy credit - and unlike me, didn't have much income with which to refinance with. But, his mom was going to help him. As of yet, the mortgage is still in my name, though I have given him a quit claim deed so I technically no longer own it anymore. While I make quite a bit of money, I'm still woefully in debt. I had over $100,000 in student loan debt by the time I was done with my MBA and law school degrees. I'll be paying those babies off for another 25 years or so.

I'm still on the mortgage for the house in Overland Park. Patrick and I bought our rambling historic house last Thanksgiving, and we just bought a new Saab 9-3 about a week and a half ago. Oh. And then there's my car (a '04 Nissan Altima that I bought new in 2005, but we got only with an exorbitant rate because of our bad credit). And... then I'm still on the loan for Michael's car because it was a joint loan.

This morning, I refinanced my car, and was able to cut the interest rate by about 3 points (still not a fabulous deal due to the fact that it's a refinance). But it dropped the payment about $80 per month. I'm going to try to keep up the "normal" payments that I've been making, and hopefully pay it off sooner.

My credit woes are resolving, but it's taken a long, long time to get here. Now, if I could only get Michael to follow through with the refinancing of the house... that would help me tremendously.

12 lbs is NOT coming out of me that way.

2008-02-13T12:42:00.000-06:00

If one accepts the dating of my earliest ultrasound (which is presumably the most accurate) my due date is May 5. That would make me 28 weeks and 2 days pregnant. The baby should weigh about 2.4 - 2.75 lbs. So, I was a little surprised today when I went in for my ultrasound and he's conservatively estimated to weigh 3.75 lbs.

Now, I have always firmly believed that I was about a week further along than what they said I was. I tested at home using a regular over the counter pregnancy test on August 20th, which would've been only 8 days after conception using the May 5th due date. If I used my last menstrual period, that would give me a due date of April 29th, and would put me at just turning 29 weeks. If this was the case the baby should weigh about 2.8-3.1 pounds. Now, I know that every baby is different, and that the weight is just an estimate.

But the perinatologist told me that there's pretty much no likelihood that I'll carry him to term as he'll be too large. He said that based on his growth pattern that we'd be looking at a baby over 12 lbs. I almost passed out at that point. He told me that vaginal delivery at that point would be nearly impossible, due to fourth degree tears, broken tailbones, etc. I waved him off, as I couldn't hear any more about that.

I really don't want a c-section. But... I know that if it's what's healthy for the baby, it's what we'll do, without a second thought.

The perinatologist told me that he would be shocked if I didn't have gestational diabetes based on the baby's growth pattern and the amount of amniotic fluid (I don't exactly understand the connection, but I'm not a doctor). He said that until my OB refers me to a dietician to start cutting out refined flour, sugar, etc. from my diet. I've gained less than 2 lbs. in the last month. The baby's gained 2.5 lbs in the last month just by himself! Update - the doctor's office just called, and my three hour gestational diabetes tests were "within normal range." There was one result that was too high, but that's not enough to be considered diabetes.

One thing the peri did say that was interesting is apparently fetuses (fetii?) with mothers who have gestational diabetes tend to have very large torsos and bellies. Julian is proportional all over though. He's legitimately big boned. However, his larger than normal size (he's apparently over the 90% mark for size - and assuming he grows at a normal pace) puts him at greater risk for shoulder dystocia (the head is delivered, but the shoulders get stuck behind the mother's pelvic bone preventing delivery), a higher incidence of stillbirth, and birth trauma. It puts me at a greater risk of perineal tearing, blood loss, or a broken tailbone.

Now that I officially don't have gestational diabetes, I'm not sure what's causing him to be so big.

But I'm thankful that it's one less thing to worry about.

Now in Fruit Punch flavor!

2008-02-12T12:01:00.000-06:00

After fasting for 12 hours, my glucose level this morning was 99.

I thought that I'd just barely passed the first of the four draws, but apparently I've actually just barely failed it. This chart shows the levels that the American Diabetes Association considers abnormal at each interval of the test:

Interval Abnormal reading
Fasting 95 mg/dl or higher (mine was a 99. I apparently JUST barely failed)
One hour 180 mg/dl or higher
Two hours 155 mg/dl or higher
Three hours 140 mg/dl or higher

Instead of the horrible flat sunkist flavor stuff that I had last time, I was "treated" to what can only be described as an incredibly thick version of a cheap generic knock-off of Hawaiian Punch flavor kool-aid. Since this was the three hour test, it had 100 g of glucose, rather than the 50 g used in the one hour glucose challenge test. I was able to basically chug it down and headed out to the waiting room to wait for the hour as directed.

About 40 minutes in, my head started splitting. Severe stabbing pain emanated from behind my eyelids. I started getting nauseous and rested my head against the wall. I was trying to read an Amy Vowell book, but the words were swimming on the page, mocking me. After the first hour draw, the phlebotomist told me "you're looking a little pale. Feeling o.k.?" I nodded meekly.

Draw done, they shuttled me back to the waiting room. Wash, rinse, repeat. At the second hour draw this woman with a thick Indian accent told me "it might sting a little." As she SHOVED the needle in, I felt it pop through the back side of my vein. The walls started shimmying - similar to the visual you get while driving on hot asphalt in Texas during August. The road looks wet - and appears to dip and turn. The same mirage-type effect started happening on the wall. She was asking me something, but I couldn't get my mouth to cooperate and answer. I stood up and then...

Thunk.

Fainted. I came to on the way down, and thankfully fell in the chair I had just rose from.

They escorted me to a bed in a back room, where I laid very still and tried to will the room to stop spinning. I laid there for the next hour, when I had my last and final blood draw.

I then drove to Burger King and promptly inhaled a Whopper. (I've essentially given up meat, but it was the only thing I thought I could ingest without immediately chucking it right back up). Oh. and some chicken tenders. And some fries. My head is throbbing now, so I think my poor body is confused and doesn't know what is going on.

Literally as I was pulling into the driveway at home, I skidded out on the ice and clipped a snowbank pretty hard.

I was supposed to go back to the doctor today, but she had an emergency c-section to deal with. So now, I'm waiting for additional info and praying that I am going to pass the remaining three tests.

Hungry. Hungry. Hippo.

2008-02-11T22:11:00.000-06:00

It's only 10:12 p.m.

I am supposed to fast for 12 hours before my 3 hour glucose challenge test tomorrow morning. The lab opens at 7:30 so I finished my last bite of dinner at that time.

My stomach is growling like mad. I feel dizzy and lightheaded. And I just realized I won't eat for about 15.5 hours not 12. (figuring 3.5 hours for bloodwork and the testing) I'm drinking copious amounts of water to try to not feel hungry.

This is going to be a long, long night. I hope I just fall asleep soon.

Contractions have been a bear today. I had a few while at the doctor's office, but they normalized, ad all seems to be going well. Another doctor's appointment tomorrow, and then another ultrasound on Wed.

Well *#%&

2008-02-08T10:49:00.000-06:00

This morning I went in for my one hour glucose test. It's a normal screening test - routinely given for women between 24 and 28 weeks of pregnancy to check for gestational diabetes (which occurs in 2-5% of pregnancies). A "positive" result on the one hour test doesn't normally mean that you have gestational diabetes, just that you need to have a longer test called a glucose tolerance test.

I was instructed to fast or to eat approximately 2 hours before the test. I went first thing this morning, so I just went ahead and fasted. They prick your finger and take a blood sugar reading, then give you a sugar solution that contains 50 grams of glucose. Allegedly it comes in cola, orange or lime flavors. I ended up with orange. I hate fake orange flavoring, and the taste was akin to what I'd imagine one would put in a hummingbird feeder. You have to drink the entire thing in five minutes (the phlebotomist watched me do it) and then made me sit in the waiting area for an hour. It was gagtastic.

Sadly, I had absolutely no cell or blackberry coverage in the waiting area, and they had the t.v. cranked up SO EFFING LOUD. I tried to read but meh. The hour long wait is to see how efficiently your body processes sugar. Approximately 15-23% of the time, the reading comes back abnormal. A "normal" result after the one hour wait is a blood sugar level of 140 or less, though some practitioners make the cut off at 130.

Mine was a 154.

So, this means I have to take a 3 hour test. In the three hour test, you drink the same sugary sweet concoction - though with 100 grams of glucose in it instead of 50, and they monitor your sugar levels via blood and urine at 30 minutes, 1 hour, 2 hours and 3 hours after you finish it. You're supposed to carb-load a few days before the test -which I'll likely have at some point next week.

Thankfully I read a study this morning that said that only about 30% of women that are in my "bracket" at the end of the one hour test go on to develop full fledged gestational diabetes. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

Nesting.

2008-02-06T16:38:00.001-06:00

I've suddenly gotten the cleaning/organization bug - and as a result every baby item I have is now washed and put away. This is what his nursery looks like now (sans crib, which should be delivered sometime this week) and will be placed on the wall next to the door.

And yes, that is our cat Ennis in the bassinet. He's quite fond of this room, and thinks it's his special play area. He begrudgingly will allow his littermate Jack in the room. I'm hoping that he adapts o.k. to someone else sharing "his" space. More details about the nursery can be found on my flickr pictures.

Oh, and there's a recent shot of me there too - though I'm not posting in the entire picture so as not to offend anyone who's feeling a little sensitive about belly shots at the moment..

Negative

2008-02-05T16:47:00.000-06:00

The fetal fibronectin test was negative.

To say that I'm thankful is a vast understatement.

So I'm apparently in the clear for the next two weeks.

Fibronectin pending

2008-02-04T15:12:00.000-06:00

I stopped in to see the doctor this morning and mentioned the cramping and some slight pink spotting that I'd had over the last week. After doing an internal exam, she immediately said I needed to have a fetal fibronectin (sp?) test as my cervix was very soft and "floppy", but that the os was closed. It's still at a "3" - 3 inches I guess - I don't really remember what she said. Allegedly the test will determine whether I'm more likely to give birth in the next two weeks. There isn't any blood at the cervix.

He's head down and heart rate was between 140-150. She said that I am to stay on modified bedrest for the "indefinite future."

The fetal fibronectin results should be in tomorrow morning.

I'm laying down and keeping everything crossed.

Oh. and we've gotten close to 20 inches of snow since Thursday. Insanity.

Commutation on the commute

2008-02-03T21:14:00.000-06:00

On Friday, I was having a multitude of contractions at work and no less than four people stopped me to say that they were concerned about my well being. I spoke to a woman who was on bedrest at the beginning of last year, and to another woman who has two young(ish) children at home. Both of them concurred that I should approach my boss and broach the very real possibility that I may need to start coming in less often to the office.

Honestly, the work itself isn't bothering me. If anything, it's a pleasant distraction that allows me not to worry about how things are developing. I like what I do, and I like who I work with.

The problem, however, is the commute. We live about 45 miles out from the city. I take a train in, then walk about 3/4 of a mile one way (usually through the snow, though I'll save the "uphill and downhill with no shoes" drama for when Julian's older) through the city to my office. Oh, and I usually have my purse and my briefcase or a backpack with me, full of documents. They're heavy. I'm slow. I waddle, and with the ice and snow we've had lately (over 15 inches since Thursday) I tend to slip and fall a lot. My balance - is perhaps only as reliable as a Yugo. I tend to lurch then stall more than walk with any degree of fluidity.

Anywho, my advisor is the second in command in my department. His wife went into labor with triplets at 25 weeks. He's kind and incredibly thoughtful. I approached him this past week and asked if it would be possible to see what my options are if I a) have to start working from home more often and b) give birth prior to April 9th which is my one year anniversary with the firm, and the time that I will be "officially" eligible for maternity leave.

He said he would need to clear it with the big kahuna, but that he sees no reason why I really need to be in the office. Essentially, as long as I am available by e-mail and phone, there's really no reason that I have to be in the office at all.

This is - an ENORMOUS relief, as I'm guessing that I'm going to be put on bedrest shortly.

Oh, and for the TMI question. If you're male, easily squicked out, or know me in real life - you can stop reading now.

No, seriously.

I mean it.

You'll thank me for it later.

Anyway, if you're still with me, and you checked cervical position before you got pregnant, or even after - or for rabid Dr. Google fans - I have a query of sorts. Suppose one, who at 28 weeks pregnant randomly decided to check her cervix after a bout of particularly bad cramping. I somewhat remember my cervix being high, closed and very firm when I first got pregnant. I'm not one to typically go poking around inside there, so I can't say what's "normal" for this pregnancy. But I was rather surprised to feel that my cervix was incredibly soft - almost squishy like touching cold oatmeal. But more troubling to me was that it felt - sorry for being so blunt - but surprisingly open. The "os" felt open enough that I could've slipped my fingertip inside. (Gross, I know. Sorry).

I guess this is something I need a medical professional to verify, but any calming words you can spare would be greatly appreciated.

I can quit you, and I will.

2008-01-31T12:20:00.001-06:00

Today I made the decision that I'm firing my midwife practice.

I've been feeling "off" for the last few days, and last night at the car dealership (a long story, but we didn't buy the car) I had four huge contractions while we were there, due largely to stress of the salesperson lying to us). So, I stayed home from work today as I was feeling crampy and generally icky. I tried calling the midwife's office yesterday to make an appointment - but as it turns out, they're CLOSED on Wed. Every single Wed. And, they're not open on Saturday. Oh, and did I mention that they're only open until 2 p.m. one other day during the week? And they're 45 miles from my work, which means that due to the train schedule, unless I get an early morning appointment, I end up having to miss an entire day of work to see them?

My original doctor was a pleasant Indian man, with a grandfatherly demeanor. He was nice, but when we moved out of the city, it wasn't practical for me to continue care with him. When we moved out to the suburbs, I decided to see about a midwife's practice here in the town that I live in. Big mistake. The head of the practice was a warm, kind woman who was patient with my questions. Her partner? An icy bitch.

When I went in for an emergency visit due to incredible swelling in my hands and feet she all but rolled her eyes at me and said that some women just have worse swelling than others. The woman who makes the appointment is a little too authority-happy. When I stared under their care, I requested my previous records FOUR TIMES from the first doctor's office, and for some reason they never received them. I tried. I signed a release and requested that my records be sent over. They bitch me out about not having the records every time I'm in there. I'm sorry - I've tried to get them. They have copies of everything else though, so aside from records from my first 12 weeks, there's nothing they have to worry about. And really - so many women don't even see a doctor until then, that seriously - they can do without them.

Anyway, today was the kicker. Their office is closed on Wed. so I couldn't make an appointment yesterday. Today, when I called to make an appointment, they told me that they had to see me tomorrow at 11:45. Now, I work downtown, and with the train schedule the way that it is, there's no way that I can make it back here in time for the appointment. Just simply no way. I told her that I couldn't take that appointment and that I needed something for next week. She said that there wasn't anything. I asked about the week after. She said that wasn't allowable - that it was too many weeks between me seeing the CNM, and then said

"You need to make sure you care as much about your baby as you do your job, and make your appointments here with the same vigilance that you make your appointments at the office"

At this point, I flipped out. I work for a living. I don't have the luxury of staying at home. I have to be in the office the majority of the time.

As soon as I hung up with her (after securing an appointment at 11:00 a.m. on Monday, where I will retrieve my records), I called an OBGYN that's close to the house for an appointment. The receptionist was pleasant, and said that a nurse would call me within a few minutes to follow up and set up an appointment that fit my schedule.

After I have my records, I will be done with their office. I'm saddened, because I really wanted to try the midwife route, but not at the cost of this much stress.

Biscuit feet

2008-01-28T16:09:00.001-06:00

And lo, the swelling is bad. So bad, in fact that my once svelte ankles now have full-fledged rolls.

My lower legs, ankles and feet look like someone popped open a tube of Grands biscuits and the flesh (rather than the heart-clogging artery-restricting raw dough) is billowing up over the edges of my shoes.

Somehow, I have the distinct feeling that if I take my shoes off, they will make that same "pop" sound that the biscuit/cinnamon roll tube makes when you open it.

I've had my feet up all day, and been drinking copious amounts of water - but it's still not helping.

Oh. And I may be crowned a true suburbanite tonight. We're going to possibly purchase a new Saab 9-3 Aero Sport Wagon tonight. It's got a navigation system, XM radio, 2.8-liter 6-cylinder turbocharged engine with 250 hp and 258 lb. ft. of torque, 5-spoke alloy wheels, all-season tires aerodynamic headlamps, xenon projector beam, lowered sport-tuned chassis, a power moonroof, premium audio system with 300W and 10 speakers, 6-disc in-dash CD changer, metallic trim, leather-appointed sport seats, leather-trimmed Aero sport steering wheel with aluminum accents, 8-way power dual front seats, rear parking assist, touring package with Xenon headlights and rain sensing windshield wipers.

There's either a $5,500 rebate or a 0% interest for 5 years financing deal right now, and I crunched the numbers and the cash rebate will actually benefit us more than the 0% financing if we go through our own bank.

Granted, it will be Patrick's car - and not mine, as I flatly refused to drive a wagon... but part of me is immensely jealous that it's going to be his.

We're not sure if we're going to trade either of our cars (as my dad may be buying Patrick's Civic SI).

Freshly Showered

2008-01-28T14:29:00.000-06:00

We flew down to Dallas this weekend for a baby shower that my sisters threw for us (family only - aside from my best friend since sixth grade Paula who surprised me by driving up from Austin) and were very, very thankful that we brought two large empty suitcases to haul stuff back with. There were a lot of family there that I honestly didn't even remember as it had been a good fifteen years or so since I'd seen some of them.

We were inundated by gifts, and as much as I hate being the center of attention, it was so nice to see all of my dad's family. Patrick's Aunt drove in from Arkansas, and his sister flew in from Phoneix.

Since we were flying back home the next day, some people sent gifts to our house or gift cards, to make the trip easier to handle. So - in addition to all of this, not pictured is a crib, all the nursery bedding (comforter, bumper, blankets, sheets, a mobile, curtains and valances for the nursery), a stroller, and other lovely gifts (a boppy, a baby bathtub, etc.)

We're so lucky to have such wonderful, loving people in our lives. And so lucky that baby clothes and blankets can be packed down so small - as we just (barely) made our luggage limit on the way home after taking the gifts out of every bit of packaging that we could.

We ended up with I think seventeen bibs, nearly thirty onesies, adorable hooded towels, teensy little footed sleepers, baby books, bouncers, tons of first aid stuff, a bumbo (with tray), about fifteen blankets, and tons of other cute stuff. (This is all on top of what we've already bought (it's an addiction - I can't help it! We snagged a bunch of onesies after xmas for about $.60 each and hit up the Old Navy clearance a time or two) and have been generously gifted by his lovely internet Auntie Helen (a beautiful stuffed french rabbit) and Auntie Jen (an ugly doll - of course - and adorable mismatched socks).

It's amazing to me that this is really happening, that he's going to be here soon. And he is going to be showered with love by so many people.

There's still quite a bit of stuff we need - like a sling, a mattress for the crib, a carseat, some diapers for right at first, etc. There's a lot of other things I would like to have (a changing pad, rattles, books, pacifiers, etc.) but I know if he comes now - there are very few things that we absolutely have to have. He'll be sleeping in the bassinet right at first anyway, so even if we wait a bit on the mattress it's not the end of the world.

I'll be writing a lot of thank you notes this week.

We got a long way to go, and a short time to get there...

2008-01-25T11:35:00.000-06:00

We leave tonight from ORD-DFW to spend the weekend with friends and loved ones. Tomorrow my sisters are throwing a baby shower for us. I almost wish we'd done it under an assumed name as Patrick's psycho ex-girlfriend (who has been e-mailing and calling him for the better part of a year - with him repeatedly telling her that he didn't want anything to do with her and STOP CONTACTING HIM) found the registry and sent a long hateful e-mail after she apparently spent the afternoon trolling for it.

Her email said (comments from me sprinkled throughout in bold brackets)

------------
Looked at your Target registry--[don't know how she found it - aside from her continuing pyschotic obsession with him, and her trolling through our flickr pictures. My guess is she spent hours looking through every possible online baby registry site, which is so utterly pathetic.] would have liked to have given you a gift. I do believe this is the first baby registry I have ever seen with the nursing paraphenalia on it--breast pads and the like. Normally that stuff doesn't make the cut as it is so affordable and well people get sort of squeamish thinking about it. Breast feeding is a beautiful, natural thing but people get uncomfortable considering the specifics. [Well, I'll be feeding my son this way (assuming it works for us, it may not) - and actually, some of the nursing things were the first things to be purchased off the registry. Just by putting them on the list doesn't mean that I expect them - it was merely something I'd like to receive. And I think it's important to register for things of varying prices to be able to let each person make a selection that they're comfortable with.] I mean who wants to attend a baby shower where people are oohing and ahhing over adorable onesies and be the one whose gift is breast shields!?! At that point you might as well add the menstral [For someone who was an English major and prides herself on her extensive vocabulary, it's a shame her grammar and spelling are so abhorrent] pads April will have to wear post-birth. Some gifts just aren't sexy. [Hmmm, yes. A picture of you, for instance]

I have decided though to get you a gift that isn't on your registry. [Granted, she doesn't know where we live, so I doubt that this is possible - as we've been very carefully hiding our address from her in fear she'll show up a la SWF.] I'm going to get you a nice copy of Huckleberry Finn. [And if she did manage to find our address and send a gift (doubtful how she'd manage to afford that considering she doesn't work, unless she's mooching off her new beau the way she did Patrick, and pretty much every guy she dated before him) I would send it back. Possibly charred and shredded in tiny little pieces.] It is obviously way too old for an infant but I think it is nice to have books in the nursery. I grew up with shelves upon shelves of books. When i was old enough my parents read them to me and later I read them myself. I will most likely get an abridged version of Huck Finn something that your son won't have to wait till middle school to enjoy.

Julian is a hilarious name--LOVE IT! But, you aren't guaranteed to have a gay boy! [What kind of person picks on a child that isn't even born yet?] What if he is a guys guy and is saddled with the name Julian!?! Or worse he is a wimpy guy who doesn't have the confidence to carry it off. Spending time on the playground surviving taunts of "Julie". But, there is a dearth of compelling boys names. The ones that are at all decent have been overused to the point of being boring. The ones that are at all interesting tend to come off as effete like "Julian". I know when i thought i was having a boy I was stumped--every name I liked seemed vaguely British (or downright British) and I couldn't in good conscience saddle my son with a name like Conrad, Basil or Lytton. [And she's making fun of Julian as a choice?] Alex and I have decided if we have a son we are going to name him William. Of course that name is fraught as well--he'll most likely break my heart and call himself 'Bill".

Hopefully the solution will be I have a girl. Alex and I have decided that we only want one child--I will be 37 at the earliest [Never too late to get psychological help!] and Alex [this poor schmuck - he has no idea what a rabid psycho he has for a girlfriend. I suppose when a year passes, and the depth of her depravity finally is evident perhaps he'll wise up enough to leave her. As an aside, I know who he is - and where he works, and have been SORELY tempted to forward her e-mails to him to ask him to make her stop contacting Patrick, as everytime he blocks her, she e-mails again from another account.] 43 when we have our first child so having a second one just won't be possible. Well, physically it could happen but we don't want to be such aged parents (we'll be old enough as it is!). I absolutely do not want to become pregnant until aftert he wedding (although i am now ovulating!). [Oh MY GAWD - inappropriate, much?] I am too traditional. Not only are Alex and I still trying to sort out our own relationship but I know kids do the math and I absolutely want my child to know they weren't an "accident" that they were a decision. [Our child wasn't an accident. We knew, and hoped, there was a possibility (though slim) we could conceive naturally. And our son will be adored and loved.] Childhood is scary enough--I want to provide a real sense of security at home. That isn't a slam on you. I am sure your child will feel loved. I just couldn't go the route you've chosen. I want it to be abundantly clear that if I were to be a mother I'd want to do it properly. [Then for god sakes, please, do not have children. The thought of you as a mother makes me vomit in my mouth. The therapy bills that poor child would have as an adult.]

Also please don't think i am making fun of the name Julian. I do like it and I do admire your courage. it is a bold, fabulous choice.

You and April seem to be about going against the grain and I do in a way admire that sans snarkiness. You guys are who you are and that is a wonderful thing to pass along to your child. So don't fret about the name Julian, or the pregnancy before the wedding or the breast shields. Just keep being comfortable in your own skin. That is by far the most important gift to pass along to Julian. I am unabashedly jealous--I wish i could be as over-the-top. [I just wish you could be normal and MOVE ON WITH YOUR LIFE and quit obsessing over someone who wants nothing to do with you.] Again I don't mean that snarkily. I know that sometimes I am hemmed in by being conventional. Am always too worried about other people's opinions and that can be paralyzing. You and April seem genuinely happy [the only reason she can make this (while admittedly, true) assumption is that she stalks us via flickr] and maybe would be less so if you fretted about the stuff i fret about.

Oh, and when I register for gifts please check out my list and have it be open season--mock me for my choices. It is exactly what I would deserve!!!!

-----
I wish I could go into the backstory of this woman, and how utterly insane she truly is, but there's simply not enough time to do so today (or for the foreseeable future). Nonetheless, Patrick sent her another email that again reiterated that he did not want contact with her, that she needs to move on. We're talking to an attorney about what we need to do to get a restraining order against her por threaten other legal action. That e-mail was just one of three yesterday.

I just needed to vent about it.

And apologies for the randomness of the title. How Smoky and the Bandit got into my head, I have no clue.

The realization that we will no longer be just two.

2008-01-23T11:48:00.000-06:00

Patrick and I had a hurried courtship, if one can call it that. We moved in together in early April. I was pregnant by August. In some ways, I'm jealous of the people that live with their significant other/spouse for years before having children. We will never have more than a few months of memories of "just us."

I am starting the third trimester (how did that happen so quickly? It seems like it was just yesterday (o.k. - August 20th) that I found out that I was pregnant). And yesterday, I wept when I realized we wouldn't have much time left for just the two of us. Truth be told, I cry a lot lately. I'm happy - I'm just a "touch" sensitive.

We've had so much happen in the small amount of time we've been together (a cross-country move, me starting a new job, taking the bar, buying a new house together, him starting a new job, getting married) aside from the pregnancy that we've had precious little time to "just be."

Honestly? I'm freaking out a bit. I know that having a child together necessarily changes everything. And... I'm scared. In so many ways we're virtual strangers - learning about each other as the days pass. I feel selfish in a way that I don't want this time to slip away... that I want to be able to stop it - to make the time we have together (sans baby) last indefinitely.

But the gentle kicking in my belly tells me that's not an option. In less than three months (give or take a week or two) we'll no longer be two, but three. And I'm excited about the baby - happy that he's coming, that we'll be a family. But... I'm also petrified.

I don't know the first thing about having a baby. In all the years of infertility treatment, I realized that I know all there is to know about IUIs and injectibles and IVF and PGD.

Shamefully, I have to admit that I don't even know how to change a diaper. I've only done it as an adult once, about seven years ago. Nevermind the fact that we're going to try to use cloth a lot at home and I really have no idea how to handle those. I'm going to give breastfeeding a go, but honestly? I have no idea how often a baby is supposed to be fed. I don't know the very basics of infant care.

And I feel so small and overwhelmed. As much as my family drives me batty at times, I hate that we don't have someone close that I can turn to.

How did those of you with children deal with this anxiety? Did making the transition from pregnancy to parents just happen naturally for you, or were there moments where you felt like this - that you have made a huge mistake in getting pregnant and that you're just not cut out for this parenting business?

What were the biggest mistakes you made at first that you wish you could do over?

From Cold Spring to COLD

2008-01-22T10:26:00.000-06:00

We spent the weekend up in Cold Spring, NY with a dear friend of ours and her husband. Had a great time, just traipsing around NY, and then drove into CT so we could say we'd been there (not realizing, of course, that we drove through it from the airport to her house) and to MA so he could say he's been there). We've got a personal mission to visit as many states as possible (and another, separate mission to do *cough*something*cough* in as many states as possible. No, I won't share the exact list, but in the last year we've managed 10 states, four countries and two federal districts ;)) Rest assured Jen, that the guest rooms sheets don't need to be burned...

So thus far, I've visited 39 states: Alabama, Arizona, Arkansas, California, Colorado, Connecticut, Florida, Georgia, Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, Michigan, Minnesota, Mississippi, Missouri, Nebraska, New Hampshire, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, Oklahoma, Oregon, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West Virginia, Wisconsin, Wyoming. Not bad, considering that before I was 20, I'd only hit 2 (Texas and Oklahoma).

So ones I haven't visited (11): Alaska, Delaware, Hawaii, Idaho, Montana, Nevada, New Jersey, North Dakota, Pennsylvania, South Dakota, and Rhode Island.

Countries I've visited (in order of when I went there - with specific areas noted): Mexico (Monterrey and Mexico City), Canada (Montreal), The Netherlands (Amsterdam), France (Loire Valley and Paris), Germany (though only in the Frankfurt airport - so I'm not sure it counts, regardless of passport stamps), Sweden (Stockholm), United Kingdom (England and Northern Ireland), China (Shanghai), Ireland (basically the entire northern part of the country). Again, before 20, I'd only been to the U.S. and Mexico, so I'm slowly building this list.

We're going with a "travel" theme to the baby's room, and while at an antiques store up in Cold Spring, I picked up a sage and cream colored hot air balloon to hang from the nursery ceiling. We're picking out paint today for his room - and it's starting to come together.

My sister is throwing a baby shower for us this coming weekend, and I'm nervous as all get out. I'm touched by the gesture, but HATE being the center of attention. Patrick is bailing on me and is going to spend the day with his dad, since his mom and sister (flying in from Phoenix) are coming out to the shower too.

And with that, I'm off to physical therapy - the wee babe is bearing down on my pinched nerve in my back and I am well, lame - in many senses of the word these days.

Oh! A heat wave - it's going to be a high of SIX degrees on Thursday. Sheesh.

Cast aside.

2008-01-15T14:48:00.000-06:00

This morning I took an hour long train into the city, then rushed to my desk to draft up triplicate copies of a medical release. A brisk walk in the cold (it was lower than 20 degrees) to another train, then a longer walk through the snow on the north side to meet with a new client.

I typically represent large publicly traded multi-national companies, and design the compensation and benefit structures on behalf of these companies that affect literally millions of people. And I'm paid quite handsomely for the work. Far more, in fact, than I'm likely worth.

This morning was different though.

My client used to have a normal life, married - with two young sons. He developed late onset schizophrenia and his life slowly started unravelling. He's been homeless now for the better part of fifteen years. His ex-wife had him declared dead after he'd disappeared for over ten years and she was told he'd been beaten to death in a mugging.

He's alive. Though even that seems a bit of a stretch of things to say. His face bears the scars of multiple physical attacks. Part of his forehead is caved in from blunt force trauma. He shrugs, giving the explanation "a fight over a place to sleep."

A local agency is now paying for him to stay at a "hotel." The overwhelming majority of the hotel's guests rent rooms by the hour. Only a floor or two is for overnighters.

I met with a member of the agency in the lobby and we went up to his room. The hallway floors were bloodstained, the acrid stench of stale urine infiltrated the air - suffocating. I could feel Julian moving strongly within me, I guess picking up on the elevated stress hormones flooding my body.

Inside his room, the mattress was bare and heavily stained. No pillows, no towels. A thick black sludge covered the bottom of the shower. Roaches crawled all over the walls and across the bed. A chili can with a tarnished spoon sat precariously on the ledge of the stripped bed. He had to eat it cold as there wasn't a way for him to heat it.

I'd laid my purse on the floor, and watched silently as a roach crawled inside it.

We talked briefly about what I was going to do in order to try to establish his identity. He honestly is so far gone that I'm not sure he'll remember who I am when I have to meet with him again next week.

His family has been contacted. His parents and siblings want nothing to do with him. They've effectively disowned him. Cast him aside. His oldest son visited with his ex-wife. It's definitely him - though a shell of a man that they used to know and love. They can't relate to him now. They don't know what to say. He doesn't remember them. He doesn't remember who he was "before" his given name and birthdate are figments of someone else's imagination.

He has brief moments of clarity - then it's all muddled again.

Everyone's forgotten him, it seems. It's easier to - it doesn't pain the soul as much as if they were faced with standing here with him instead of half a country away.

His name is George. And I know that for the rest of my life, I will never forget him. And I know that they haven't either. How could you? He was someone's son. Someone's husband, someone's father. He was a neighbor, a co-worker. He was a stranger passing on the street, and now he's invisible.

I am so lucky to have the life that I have. I need to do more to help other people, to somehow assuage this overwhelming guilt.

My life could've easily ended up like his did. My mother was on the streets for awhile, when dealing with her substance abuse issues. We lived in run-down apartments that weren't much better than the hotel I visited today. I'm not a stranger to roaches, and have had them crawl over my skinny 10 year old legs in the shower.

It embarasses me even now to talk about it. My sixth grade math teacher, Ms. Brundage bought me clothes. A church in town delivered food to us because we were too poor to even buy gasoline to get to the store to use our food stamps. But through others generosity I've always had a roof over my head. I've always believed I could get out of poverty.

I cried on the train ride back to the office. I'm not the type that cries often, it's not my nature. Since I've been pregnant, things resonate so much stronger with me. I cried for George, for his neighbors in the hotel. But I also cried for my son, who I've not met yet. I cried - hoping that he would never have to know that want - that desperation.

I know we all struggle with daily inconveniences, but tonight - as you lay your head down to sleep. Please, be thankful.

It could be so much worse.

I just saw Paula Dean making out with a butter sculpture of herself.

2008-01-13T22:49:00.001-06:00

This evening I was going through some old pictures from my childhood, and I was struck with the realization that there is an actual PERSON separate from myself growing within me. Someone who will be here in just a few short months, and I'm so anxious to meet him. I wonder so much what he'll look like. We both have blue eyes (though Patrick's take on a rather greenish tint at times) and both of us had red hair as a child.

Me at a little shy of two years old, and a picture of Patrick and his father at about the same age.

We spent part of yesterday assembling the glider and ottoman for the nursery as well as the bassinet. I lost a bolt to the bassinet, so I'll have to get a replacement before we can finish it out. We also hit up Old Navy for their super gigantic clearance, and cleaned up on baby boy clothes for next winter. The kid already has so many clothes it's unreal - and that's just from us.

I'm so ready to meet him.

A long week, and it's not nearly over.

2008-01-10T15:29:00.001-06:00

Sorry for not updating sooner. I'm doing o.k. - contractions have diminished a small amount, and never reached the threshold for mandatory visits to the hospital, so I've waited it out.

I went to a neurologist on Tuesday to discuss the seizure issue. He said it sounded to him as if I'm having "complex partial" seizures, though I have no idea what those are. He wants me to schedule an EEG and we'll make treatment decisions (if any are necessary) from that point. Thankfully he did say that most anti-convulsive medications are now safe to take in pregnancy (especially given that I'm beyond the first trimester).

I have an appointment with the perinatologist (no idea if that's spelled correctly, sorry) and my follow up ultrasound Wed. We're also having the kitties fixed that day. Poor babies, they're going to hate me. We were contemplating getting them declawed as well but decided to forego that after reading some horror stories about it - and instead have put Softpaws on them. They aren't staying on very well, but hopefully it will address our problem of the furniture and carpeting being destroyed.

Somehow in the last week, I managed to tweak my back a bit and when I walk I occasionally get shooting pains down my left leg. I previously was diagnosed with a ruptured L4 vertebrae, and my L3 and L5 are bulging so the doctor said that whatever I've done is going to just get worse as the baby gets bigger. I also have to now find time for physical therapy. Fun.

And apparently - it seems I have some sort of infection in my right breast. It's hot to touch and is red and splotchy. And honestly, it feels like someone is shoving needless through my nipple into the underlying tissue and the pain is radiating toward my armpit. Is it possible to develop mastitis during pregnancy?

Last night we went to the Stars/Blawkhawks game and I got us tickets directly on the ice. Patrick was in heaven, as we ended up sitting directly next to the press photographers. We had a great time out - and the realization struck me as we were leaving the arena that we don't have much time left like this - with just the two of us.

Breathe...

2008-01-06T10:28:00.001-06:00

Yesterday evening I spent four hours laying on the couch balled up in pain timing my contractions. They were stronger and more painful than any Braxton-Hicks contractions I'd ever had before.

We were out running errands during the day (including getting a new washer and dryer, picking paint colors for the kitchen, etc.) and as we walked into Lowe's a contraction hit that stole my breath and made me stop in my tracks in the middle of the parking lot. It hurt so badly I couldn't talk or walk or move. By about five o'clock, I'd had about another 2-3 per hour so I called the midwives office.

She suggested that I lay on my left side for an hour and drink a few glasses of water. At some point, I nodded off and Patrick finally woke me to go to sleep around 11.

As much as I dislike being pregnant at times, as a practical matter it's simply not time for him to be here yet. I'm just now starting my 25th week.

A little concerned.

2008-01-03T20:51:00.000-06:00

Over the holidays, I got a message from a perinatologist's office regarding setting up an appointment to discuss my seizures. Those of you who have known me from my previous blog have likely heard about them before. The midwife was concerned that it may not be safe to let me labor naturally, so I wasn't terribly surprised that I had a call from the perinatologists office. I don't really want to have a major seizure in the middle of labor. No sense in potentially endangering myself or Julian.

So I was a little surprised when the woman said that they were calling to schedule a Level II ultrasound. Apparently Julian's cerebellum is in the top 95% size-wise for estimated gestational age (utilizing early ultrasound dating - using my LMP it's perfectly normal). I'm a nervous wreck at the moment, worried about him. And worried about me. I had a mild seizure this morning on the train on the way to work, and I'm having to face the fact that I can't continue to do this alone - pretending that I'm fine when I'm not.

For those of you who don't know the backstory - here it is, in greatly summarized form.

In my last year of law school, I was driving to grab a bite to eat when I had a seizure - and blacked out. I hit my head against the steering wheel, and thankfully during the 'fit' I managed to slam the gear shift into park and halfway jumped a curb. Somehow during the madness, I bit my tongue rather forcefully - almost straight through it - and my mouth quickly filled with blood. Thankfully I was on a side street and I managed to coast slowly into a gas station where I promptly fainted. I got a nice sized bump on the head from the fainting spell, but was otherwise o.k. When I finally made my way back to school, I walked into my ex-husband's office and told him what happened. He wanted to go to the hospital immediately, but I begged him not to take me. We went home instead, and I promptly fell asleep for about fifteen straight hours. I went to a cardiologist the next day - and was immediately whisked from specialist to specialist. The next few days were a blur of EKGs, EEGs, x-rays, MRIs, and a great deal of bloodletting to check on blood sugar imbalances, hormones, etc.

During the doctor's visits I realized that I've always had these little "spells." Growing up, my great-grandmother said someone was walking over my grave when I did it. Sometimes I could feel them coming on, but not always. When I did, they were preceded by a tightness and pain in my chest and back - and a feeling of pressure as if I was being crushed. My vision always tunneled immediately before it happened and the sounds of life around me grew strangely quiet. I also had a completely indescribable feeling of great anxiety that something bad about to happen, but I could never place what it was, and words can't really do it justice.

Afterward, there was always a peculiar metal taste in my mouth - like sucking on a spoon - and an overwhelming desire to immediately go to sleep. Sometimes - when they are really bad - my arms flail out (sometimes one, sometimes both) and I will involuntarily strike out at someone. It can be quite embarrassing at times - sort of a physical Tourettes. My back clenches up and people who have seen it say that it looks like I think I'm falling and am trying to instinctively brace myself. Milder versions cause me to just space out a little. I can hear people talking around me - but their voices sound very far away - like the muffled conversations of people living in the next apartment drifting through air vents when I was in college.

As I have had previous brain surgery (when I was two months old) to remove a cyst/tumor, the doctors thought it may be either a recurring tumor or possibly scarring of the brain tissue. During one of the trips to the neurologist, after yet another brain scan, the doctor told us that in all likelihood that it was epilepsy or multiple sclerosis. I sobbed. It was the one - and only time that I've ever seen my ex cry. No swimming, no bathing or showering without the door open and someone in the bathroom with me, no driving, no cooking, no being alone - period - under any circumstances for nearly four and a half months. I couldn't do anything.

I was poked and prodded and sent to every specialist they could find. They ruled out epilepsy and we rejoiced. They ruled out m.s. and we cried with joy. But they never found out what the problem is. Stress, exhaustion and alcohol seemed to exacerbate the problem. Of course, since I was studying for the bar at the time, two of the three were a little difficult to control (and in fact I had a 'medium' seizure during the middle of the exam). I have never had another grand mal seizure like the one that finally spurned me to go to the doctor. I have had hundreds of other - small ones - but have accepted it as part of who I am. They seem to cluster at a time - and it's been a while since I've had one. I was told that I could slowly start incorporating my "regular" life back into my schedule.

I've never been medicated for them. After contrast MRIs, brain scans, EKGs, EEGs, etc. the neurologist that I was seeing couldn't figure out what was causing them. He intimated that perhaps I was just making them up. I was so defeated that I honestly started worrying that I was - somehow unconsciously manifesting these symptoms without a legitimate cause. I refused to go back to see the doctor, saying that I was obviously fine since they couldn't figure out what was wrong.

I have a neurologist appointment at one of the best research hospitals in the country next Tuesday. It's amazing how easy it is to get in to see a doctor when you say "seizure" and "pregnancy" in the same sentence. I have the Level II ultrasound a week and a day later.

I'm just trying to cross my fingers and hope everything's going to be o.k.

No one likes it...

2008-01-02T15:07:00.000-06:00

Over the holiday break, when visiting with my dad's family my sister said that everyone had decided that they were going to call the baby "J.R." I bristled, and said "his name will be Julian, not J.R." My stepmother chimed in and said "well, it's not a very 'Texan' name." My sister retorted "well, everyone in the family has been talking about it and no one likes it." That stung. Badly. Granted, my sister is only 17 - but she should have more tact than that. And I think what upset me the most was that I believed her that everyone had been talking about it behind my back and had passed judgment on our choice.

Tears started welling up in my eyes and I angrily blurted out "well, Patrick and I do, and that's all that matters."

My son will not be named Cody or Hunter or Trayson or any of the names of my sisters friends children (and no offense to you if your son or someone you love is named any of those names. They're all lovely - but they're not our style and not what we've picked).

Now, my sisters have somewhat unusual names. I don't think Julian is a particularly odd choice. A little uncommon but not anything that is outlandish. They intimated that it was too feminine sounding... too "girly."

Add to that at Christmas my sister's close friend who has two little girls under two have taken to calling my parents grandma and grandpa. She's a sweet girl, and has been around the family a lot - but um, those children are not my parents grandchildren. They're family friends. It's different. I said something about how exciting it will be next year to have the first grandbaby in the family and my stepmother chimed in - and said - oh the first grandson at least. We already have the other two...

Perhaps it's just pregnancy hormones that have me all riled up. Perhaps I should just suck it up, but it's been over a week later and I'm still reeling from the comments. Am I out of line being hurt by this? Please be honest with me. For those of you with children - did you ever deal with family members who blurted out such hurtful comments?

A new year.

2008-01-01T09:22:00.000-06:00

Last New Years Eve, Patrick and I walked in the freezing cold and ate sushi at Hama Matsu in Andersonville. Then we traipsed home in the blustery wind and had french martinis and played scrabble until I fell asleep around 10:30 when he carried me to bed. If I remember correctly - the next day, I was headed back to Kansas City and neither of us wanted to particularly face the morning.

This was right before we left his apartment for dinner last year.

This year, I fell asleep even earlier - though in my defense we've both been fighting a horrific cold. Patrick made dinner (delicious spicy burritos) and we watched the snow fall from the windows in our new home. I could feel our son kicking inside me, and I fell asleep in his arms as his wife. [We'll ignore for the moment the fact that he had to go sleep on the couch at about 4 a.m. because he couldn't make me stop snoring. Pregnancy has some rather unattractive symptoms for me - what can I say?] I woke up this morning to the yard dusted with a few inches of gorgeous snow. The cats curled up at my feet, and Patrick sleepily stumbled up the stairs to go back to sleep beside me for a few more hours.

The view of snow covered trees last night from our second floor back deck taken with Patrick's new fancy-pants Nikon D3.

Granted, there was no champagne and fireworks - no glittering party dresses and caviar to ring in the new year. But honestly, this was the best beginning that I could have ever hoped for. I certainly wouldn't have believed that this would be my life a year ago. But I am so thankful that it is... er, minus this ridiculous cold at least.

I'm also very thankful that many of you have followed me here from my previous blogging experience and are able to share this new chapter of my life with me. If you're a lurker, welcome too - I hope you'll feel free to join in and let us get to know you.

Whatever it is you're wishing for this year, I hope you find it. May your homes and lives be blessed with love, laughter, health and good fortune in the coming year.

(Links to our complete photostreams are in the right menu bar)

Measuring large

2007-12-28T14:02:00.000-06:00

I just got back from the midwives office (driving in blinding snow, no less). The wee babe is measuring large, topping the 90th percentile for his head size. My uterus is measuring 24 weeks, and according to the original due date of May 5th that's way too big. However, last Thursday during the ultrasound they moved my due date up to either April 27th or April 29th.

So, according to those dates I think that makes me 23 weeks along. I have no idea. Math is hard, Barbie!

He had the hiccups this morning, at least I think that's what was going on. The movement was very rhythmic and lasted about five minutes before it stopped.

We spent the holiday weekend at Patrick's parents' ranch in a teensy little town of about three hundred people about an hour outside of Dallas. This is a picture he took of me with Geoffrey, one of his parents' four donkeys.

My mom lives in between Dallas and Ft. Worth and my dad and stepmom live about 45 minutes south of Ft. Worth, so we did a lot of driving around. A lot. It's odd, I haven't lived in Texas since 2000, Patrick hasn't since I think 1995. Part of it feels like "home" still, but a lot of it is amazingly foreign to us both.

Our families were all delighted about our surprise wedding. We're heading back to DFW in a month for our baby shower. We had a wonderful Christmas together, I got a new laptop (which I desperately needed) and a few other things from him. So I suppose I'm technically a mac convert now. It's taking some getting used to - but I like it.

We're both coming down with a cold/the flu or something, so I'm sorry this is so utterly boring.

And the bride wore black.

2007-12-20T07:22:00.000-06:00

Today, at sometime between 3 and 4 p.m., I'm getting married. In a black dress, no less. We're keeping it quiet, not even telling our parents. Instead we'll be surprising them over Christmas.

You would think that I would be petrified. As I'm divorced. Twice over.

The first time, was just a month after I turned 19. We'd been dating since I was 16 - and I was in love with the idea of being in love. We were having the big princess wedding. My dress weighed close to thirty pounds as it was so heavy with crystal beading. Incidentally, I hated it. His mother picked it out, and bought it for me. I never had the chance to find my own wedding dress. We got married where his family was from, and I stayed up the night before crying because I didn't want to go through with it. But there were 500 people coming the next day, and I was afraid of embarrassing my parents. I was afraid of disappointing everyone. Halfway down the aisle, I had to swallow the bile rising in my throat and fight my instinct to turn and bolt. Looking back, I should have gone with it, and ran into the mid August Texas heat. We were married only 13 months. We lived together for about half of those. I decided I couldn't live with a man who hit me, who called me a whore almost daily - and yet oddly wouldn't sleep with me. A man who would leave the most vile, violent - bloody pornography on my computer to shock me. I left him in the middle of the night, when he was out of town. I truly believed that he would follow through on his promise and kill me. He's now remarried, and the father of a son and a daughter (I know this because he has an annoying habit of tracking me down to tell me how sorry he is that we didn't work out).

The second time, I was 22. He was 38. I thought I was "grown up" and knew what love was. We started dating in May and were married by August. We eloped, getting married at sunset on a beach in the Virgin Islands, just the two of us. My father was so angry he didn't speak to me for almost four months. There were times when we were happy. We were poor and still in school. Then the lies started coming unravelled. He refused to tell his best friend (incidentally his ex-girlfriend, and oddly now, one of my closest friends who no longer speaks to him) that we were married for over three months even though he spoke to her daily. I found out the truth about why he left his last job as a professor, after he swore to me for three years that what I feared the most hadn't happened. Instead, I read the truth in a copy of a court transcript when I was looking for a computer cord in his laptop bag. And yet, I stayed with him. But his perennial depression made me feel so unloved I honestly felt as if I was dying. He wouldn't work and I was struggling to support us both. I made mistakes too - huge ones, that were simply unforgivable. Ones that I regret with every ounce of my being. I wanted children, desperately. He didn't. We tried for four years (he said later he did so to placate me), infertility treatment for about half of that. Nothing ever worked. I now am so thankful that it never did.

Today, I'm a different person. I'm 28. I'm a bit jaded. I've lived in four states in two years. I want a partner who is financially responsible, who works hard. I want a man who I can trust, who will love me for being myself. I want a partner who makes me laugh, who will be a good father, who has the deep seated desire for starting a family and making our own traditions. I want a man who is equally comfortable in a five star restaurant and just sitting around talking to my very poor family. I want to spend my life with someone who is honest, who's laugh makes my heart warm. I want someone who isn't afraid to admit when he's wrong, and by the same token has the heart to forgive me when I am. I don't want a savior, but a partner. Someone to hold my hand and face what life throws our way together. I want someone who has some of the same referents, who understands my quirks, who enjoys long drives to no particular destination on a whim. I want Patrick, by my side, forever. And I mean forever. I want to grow old with him. I want to believe in our future. And for the first time in my life, I do.

I can see him holding our son, hear his voice singing lullabies. I respect him. For the first time in my life, I can't honestly picture myself intimate with any other person.

And I love him with every fiber of my being. I see his flaws, and I am brave enough to show him mine. And we love each other in spite of - or perhaps because of - them.

And so today, we will make our bond permanent - from a legal perspective. As honestly, our lives are so inextricably entwined, that regardless of what status we have on paper - he is my only.

I'm wearing a black dress (a long story - but I tried to find something more appropriate, but this was the first dress that made me feel beautiful since I got pregnant). And I will be amazingly happy.

And now begins the psychotic dreams...

2007-12-12T09:42:00.000-06:00

For the last week I've woken up at least once every night in a sheer panic. First there was the dream about someone kidnapping me and cutting Julian out of me. So horrifically gory and real. Then there was the dream that I gave birth to him, only he was see-through - like this phone I had when I was a freshman in high school - and I could see each vein, artery, organ, etc.

Last night was a doozy. I had a dream that he was huge when he was born, and he was possessed. He could talk and crawl immediately and was saying the most vile things. Then I had a minorly weird one that everyone in my dad's family sent shower gifts, but they were each personalized, and none were his name - as they didn't like it, so they each named him something different. The last one, he developed sharp cat-like teeth in utero and chewed himself out through my belly a la alien style rather than be born.

Yeah. I don't sleep so well at night anymore.

Since travel has been such an important part of our relationship, we decided to go with a travel theme for the nursery. Patrick found an adorable screen-print painting at Land of Nod of the ABCs where each letter is a different world city. We're going to paint the ceiling blue with white clouds (and glow in the dark stars) and the walls will be green with a mural of a city and train tracks. We found an old 1950s biplane that's about 2 feet wide and bright red in the basement of the house, and we're going to clean it up and suspend it from the ceiling. Patrick bought a huge lot of Dr. Seuss books and Richard Scarry books off ebay. So, Julian's library now includes over 70 total - which means the world to me as we both love to read.

I've made a few compulsive purchases - some onesies and a few all-in-one cloth diapers and some vintage diaper pins. We're likely going to do a combination of cloth and disposable diapers.

We've started the internal debate on circumcision, and I have to say it's a lot harder decision than I expected. (I want to forego it as I'm afraid they'll mangle his wee little penis - Patrick wants him to have it done).

I've got to start being better about my weight. After all my bragging that I haven't put on hardly any weight (3.5 lbs at 18 weeks) I somehow have put on over 7 in the last week and a half. And I'm having huge issues with swelling. I've always managed to have very slender ankles, but now - at night, I can barely take my shoes off because my feet are so swollen. My ankles literally disappear into the vast rolls of flesh that used to house my slender ankles. The same thing is happening with my hands, though to a lesser degree. I'm having to take my ring off during the day at work because it's starting to cut into my finger.

Patrick saw my ankles last night after I had them propped up for a few minutes and was really concerned. But the swelling isn't pitting - (i.e. if you poke it with your finger the dent doesn't stay) and I'm not having headaches (any more than normal, anyway) or other symptoms of preeclampsia. I guess I'm just one of the lucky ones for whom edema seems to happen early in the pregnancy and when it's less than thirty freaking degrees outside. I shudder to think what would happen if I was pregnant in the summer.

More Ovaltine please.

2007-12-05T13:06:00.000-06:00

I'm addicted to Ovaltine at the moment. Though I sometimes cheat on it with a big glass of carrot juice. The carrot juice sends Patrick into convulsions as he thinks there's nothing nastier on the planet.

We're supposed to fly out this Friday to go to Astoria, Oregon for the weekend. Unfortunately, those plans are on hiatus as the poor people there have been deluged (quite literally) with horrible weather. We were expecting a potential weather snag in our travel plans when we went to Key West in late July, but I can't say that I saw this coming. I guess now we'll land in Portland and travel east a bit instead. Who knows.

It snowed over 7 inches last night, and has been snowing all morning (though lightly). It's gorgeous. I'm working from home - trying to pretend that I'm being productive, but mostly looking outside and wishing I had the energy to get up and make a snowman. Or I don't know - wash dishes or do laundry or something similarly exciting. I do feel better than I did at first, but the energy reserves are still running very low. The midwife said my iron is too low, which is what's causing it. I'm trying to fix it via diet rather than pills, and I'm not sure how well it's going.

This last week I started leaking colostrum rather badly. It startled me, as I sprung a full fledged leak while wearing a silk shirt. I thought it was a bit early for this to happen. Meh.

We got our first baby gift in the mail today - a Christmas ornament from a friend of mine in KC. I was very touched, and had big heaping sobs when I opened it and saw what it was. It's still so surreal to me that this is happening.

And with this boring post concluded, I'm heading to make more Ovaltine.

Wow.

2007-11-29T22:08:00.000-06:00

It's not often that I'm able to say that I'm right - but...

It's a boy. Very, very definitely a boy.

(He even shook it at us a bit, lest we were unconvinced.)

His face, however was much harder to catch.

We're having a boy. Wow. A son.

I don't even know what to do. I've never been around a baby boy. I have three younger sisters, Patrick has one. We're both hopelessly lost as to what to do.

Next year, our tree will have a "J" on it.

For Julian.

Julian Randall.

Our son.

Wow.

Myths, Old Wives' Tales and Urban Legends

2007-11-29T12:45:00.001-06:00

We started out with this pregnancy saying we were going to be surprised in the delivery with the sex. Except - well, I am the world's most impatient person.

At 18 weeks (give or take a few days) I'm decidedly rotund. Everyone who sees me in person swears to me that it'll be a girl. Oddly, I've felt a surety topping 80% that it's a boy from the beginning.

The midwife practice that I switched to won't do my ultrasound until December 20th, so Patrick and I decided to "treat" ourselves to an early Christmas present at one of those 3d/4d ultrasound places. Our appointment is at 8:30 tonight - and I'm well... honestly I'm a little freaked out by knowing. Why? I have no idea. I'd be happy either way, and I know he would too. I think he'd honestly prefer a girl, but that preference is waning with time.

Just for fun, I thought I'd try out a few of the "old wives' tales and see what they predict:

Carrying High, Carrying Low

The way you are carrying during your pregnancy is one of the most oft cited ways of determining the sex of your baby. The general story goes that, if you're carrying low, you're having a boy. If you are carrying high, then you must be having a girl.

I'd say that I'm carrying fairly high, but that's because the bebe is right smack at the tip top of my uterus.
Prediction: Girl.

What Your Urine Says

This next test to determine a baby's sex may not be for everyone, although it is very simple. Just take a sample of your urine and mix it with Drano. Depending on the color change of your urine, you will have a boy or a girl. Unfortunately, there is no consensus on what color equals which sex. So, if you do decided to try this and your urine turns bluish yellow, brownish, brown, black or blue you will be having a boy. If your urine looks more greenish brown, green, blue or doesn't change at all, then you're having a girl. But be warned: if you decide to do this test, there could be some pretty harsh fumes produced - not to mention the possibility of an explosion!

Yeah. I didn't try this. Sorry. The thought of urine and Drano together, just no. I don't care what my "urine" says.
Prediction: Who knows.

Heartbeats

One belief that has been around for some time, and even had some acceptance in the medical community at one point, is that the fetal heartbeat differs for boys and girls. If you're having a girl, then the fetal heart rate will be above 140. A boy will have a heart rate below 140. However, that pesky science has reared its little head again to say that this is complete fiction. A baby's heart rate is not affected by its sex until it is born, when a girl's heart rate will increase considerably compared with boys during labor.

Heartbeat two days ago: 155.
Prediction: Girl.

Craving Something…Sweet?

Many people believe that your cravings are caused by the sex of your baby. So, if you can't get enough chocolate, you could be having a girl. Does the idea of drinking straight lemon juice sound delicious to you? Then those sour cravings are a result of the little boy inside of you. However, if you go by the scientists, then some of them will claim that you're not even having cravings because cravings just don't exist.

Considering I only crave sour, salty and spicy things, I'd say:
Prediction: Boy.

Weight Gain

Thankfully, this one doesn't refer to your weight gain. The belief is that, if your husband puts on weight during your pregnancy, then you will be having a girl. If he doesn't put on a pound, then you're carrying a boy.

Not sure how in the world this is even credible as far as old wives tales go, but he's not gaining weight...
Prediction: Boy

Is Her Face Round and Full?

Some say that the shape and fullness of your face during pregnancy can indicate your baby's sex. Every woman gains weight differently during pregnancy, and every woman experiences different skin changes. If people tell you that because your face is round and rosy you are having a girl, they might be right!

They may also be wrong. I'm actually much thinner in the face now than I was before I got pregnant.
Prediction: Boy

Breast Size

Here's a test that you can do next time you change or get out of the bath. Look in the mirror at your breasts. If the right one is larger, you're having a boy! A larger left breast indicates a girl (if they're the same size, does that mean you're having one of each?).

Prediction: Boy. Bet you wanted to know my right breast is larger eh? They're both big, but the right is larger. Of course, I think it's always been a little larger.

The Dangling Wedding Ring

Hold your wedding ring over your wrist on a string or a strand of your hair. If the ring swings back and forth, you're having a boy. If it is more of a circular motion, then it's a girl. This can also be done by suspending a ring on a string above your belly.

Prediction: Boy.

Acne Analysis

Do you have acne? Some believe that getting acne during your pregnancy indicates you're carrying a girl. Maybe the acne is caused by twice the amount of female hormones?

Prediction: Boy. My face is actually much clearer than normal - er, aside from my forehead, so maybe "indeterminable"?

The stupidest one of all...

Pick up a key. If you've picked it up by the thinner end, you're having a girl. Picking it up by the bottom, rounder part means a boy is on the way. Did you pick it up by the middle? Then congratulations! You're having twins!

Prediction: I'm not having twins, that's for damn sure. Nonetheless, boy. Picking a key up by the skinny end just seems wrong to me.

Woman's Intuition

What you think you're having. In a study that asked women with no previous knowledge about their baby's sex, the moms-to-be correctly guessed the sex of their baby 71% of the time.

Prediction: Boy. I have no reason to think one way or the other, but I'll honestly be (pleasantly) surprised if I'm wrong.

Chinese Lunar Calendar

Prediction: Boy. 99% accurate my ass.

So, to sum it up: 7 things say boy, 2 say girl and I'm treating two as "undeterminable."

In other words, who knows - but hopefully we will after tonight.

So, wondering if I'm going to need an "E" or a "J" for my tree next year. (yes, we've got names picked out already)

Registry questions

2007-11-24T17:25:00.000-06:00

My sister Vanessa is throwing us a baby shower while we're home over the Christmas holidays. I'm very grateful for it - but she's pressuring me to go ahead and register... and well - I haven't given the slightest thought to what we need or want.

I decided to go with Target and Land of Nod - but have no idea as to what to actually register for. So for those of you who have "been there, done that" or those of you who haven't - but have heard from those that have...

What recommendations do you have? What were lifesavers that you couldn't do without - and by the same token - what were wastes of money?

Injectable turkey.

2007-11-20T13:13:00.000-06:00

Patrick's parents will be here either tonight about midnight or mid-day tomorrow. The house is about 60% boxes still. I have never used the (rather dated) oven before so I have no idea how evenly or accurately it heats. I may make a few pies tonight to make sure that it does indeed work.

Last night I had a weird dream that I was injecting the turkey using the leftover needles gathering dust in the bathroom from my old infertility treatments. I don't even want to know what that's supposed to mean.

Out, out damn spot!

2007-11-15T11:45:00.000-06:00

I have to leave in ten minutes to board the train to take me to the closing.

I am going to be so happy when this is over and done.

After weeks of no nausea - this morning I vomited so violently while brushing my teeth that my face is again awash in red blotches, thanks to the lovely petechial hemorrhaging. While they usually were contained to my eyelids, this time they're everywhere - under my chin, on my neck, my chest, my shoulders, my arms, my eyes, cheeks, chin. The only area that seems to be immune is my nose. My great-grandfather affectionately nicknamed me "Spot" as a child because of the smattering of my freckles across my face. Somehow, the moniker seems more fitting now.

And... I'm also spotting again. Likely a result of too vigorous celebratory sex (pre-vomiting, mind you).

I seem to be damned to the red spots.

One less thing...

2007-11-14T14:25:00.001-06:00

On Monday night, I got a call from someone who'd seen our apartment ad on Craigslist. It was late, and we'd just had a huge meal out at one of our favorite restaurants - Bistro Campagne and we were in a hazy food coma. I always get the gratin de macaroni - a delightfully sinful concoction of macaroni made with heavy cream, real butter, Gruyère and Emmental cheese. It's so tasty.

I really didn't want to return her call, as I was tired and itching myself to death over that dreaded wool dress... but on the way home I did. I was hoping I'd be able to talk her into coming by on Tuesday, as it was already after 8:30. She was very pleasant and said "I'm in the neighborhood, could I swing by in about 15 minutes?"

Hesitantly, I said yes. It was a good thing I did. She signed a one year lease yesterday - so we are out of our lease now! Hooray. We have to be moved out by the end of the month, and she takes over her new lease on December 1st.

Whew! Since she signed the lease directly with the landlord, we don't have to deal with the sublet.

Now... if I could just get the response I need about how much dolla' dolla' bill y'all I have to bring tomorrow to the closing for the house.

I feel a nosebleed coming on.

As a random aside, someone asked me if I was going to have twins as I was "as big as a house" already.

Considering I am only 16 weeks, this does not bode well for the future.

Decorating secrets

2007-11-12T14:44:00.000-06:00

Now that we'll be moving in to the new house, we're trying to slowly divest ourselves of our um, "eclectic" furniture. Granted, we have a cute apartment.

View from the front door.

From the kitchen, looking into the living room. I'm going to miss the built-ins for this place. And yes, the blinds and curtain in the left window are all wonky because Jack likes to try to attack them.

The kitchen, with the six boxes of china/crystal I managed to pack. Notice the eleventy billion bottles of wine, and alcohol stored on the countertops that I can no longer partake of. Oh. and the giant duster? Best $1.99 I've ever spent at IKEA because it conveniently doubles as a cat toy. Jack & Ennis HATE that thing with the power of a thousand blazing suns.

But it's just very, "apartment-ish" and our furnishings are going to look really out of place in the new house. When I left my old house, I left almost all of the furnishings behind. They were my ex-MIL's cast-offs, and while I was very appreciative of having the furniture, it just wasn't my style. And I felt weird about taking it after the divorce. So, aside from my bedroom furniture, I left it all there.

So, we're currently looking for almost all new furniture for the house. We have a little table that will work for the breakfast room, and his IKEA bedroom set will work in the guest room until we're able to buy something nicer. We've bought some vintage mid-century Thomasville furniture for the baby's room (three small dressers and a twin headboard for $300 via Craigslist). Now I just need to find a somewhat matching crib. We found a couch and chaise that I loved at Macy's this past weekend. But after spending about 30 minutes ordering it last night - the damn thing's on back order until LATE January. Screw that. I'm not waiting that long - and not paying for something that expensive (and lo, it was expensive) that I won't get for months.

So - anywho. I'm scouring Craigslist for a dining room set that is modern and clean enough for his tastes, and traditional enough - and has enough china/crystal storage for me. We're looking for random furniture, and will be largely replacing many decorative items as well.

That's where you come in.

Give me the scoop. Tell me your favorite decorating secrets, what catalogs/stores, etc. you find your best items in. We've got a somewhat flexible budget - mostly I'm just a tight ass and don't want to be spending money we don't have to for things.

I (apparently) dress left

2007-11-12T12:38:00.000-06:00

Things around our place have been insane as of the last week. We close on the house this Thursday. Which means, as of Thursday our asses will be po' (so much so that we will be unable to afford even the remaining "o" and "r" to complete the word). But we will have keys to our new abode! We've still got 3 months left on our lease - so we're hoping we can find a sublessee soon. The landlord said if he can find someone who will take a new 12-month lease on, that he'll let us out of the contract.

I guess we're maybe 25% packed. Hmm. We move Saturday. As in - today's Monday which according to the little multi-colored one brightly colored for every day of the week panties I wore as a kid, means we'll be left only with let's see... Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday to pack. [Aside, I was a bit of a neurotic kid - and refused to wear the Saturday panties on say Tuesday. If it wasn't Saturday, I wasn't wearing them.] Um, yeah. It's going to be nuts, but we will get it done somehow.

In other news, P got a job offer today with a firm downtown that he really wanted to work for. It's in house, so the constant threat of him having to travel Monday - Thursday night every week again is gone. Salary is comparable to what he makes now (a modest jump) but it comes with a 20% of salary bonus - which is HUGE. And, he has the flexibility to work from home on occasion, which will be nice when Baby G is here. To top it off, he'll be promoted to a director position - and will be able to really utilize his skill set. I'm so happy for him. He's just elated with the news. If you know him via Flickr, please don't make mention of it - as he's not notified his work yet - and a few people from there are privy to his site. I'm delighted as this means we'll be able to work downtown together, stealing the occasional lunch date - and be able to ride the train together every day. That's an extra 2 hours a day together, of just quiet existence and it delights me to no end.

Somehow over the weekend I have either pulled something or have bruised my tailbone. Well, just to the immediate left of my tailbone. It hurts to walk, to sit, to lay down - anything. I'm hobbling like I'm about 8,000 months pregnant or that many years old. Very attractive. And my ute apparently leans fairly toward the left (and backward too). I thought as it got bigger, it would somehow 'correct' and be more typical. In the mornings though, when I'm laying in bed, I can feel the rock hard lump immediately to the lower left of my belly button. Weird. I apparently, dress left in case you were wondering. I hope as I get larger things start to be more centralized, otherwise it'll look like I'm smuggling a basketball on the left.

As I was bent over packing a box Saturday, I stood up quickly and was shocked to have my first real bout of what I can only surmise is round ligament pain. And for a brief few seconds, I seriously thought that I had been stabbed in the lower abdomen. I hope this doesn't recur often as it literally felt as if someone popped me really hard inside with a taut rubber band.

I think I may be losing my mind - but I think that maybe I felt the baby move this last weekend. I was laying down on the couch a little while after drinking some orange juice, and there was this weird sensation that sort of felt like popcorn popping inside. I think it's too early though to feel anything, as I'm just now at 16 weeks.

In other news - the pooch is getting bigger. Well, it's not so much that the pooch is very large, but I've completely lost my waist. I'm just incredibly thick throughout the torso. Maternity pants (the low-rise ones) now stay up without shenanigans on my part. And while I didn't expect to be in them this early, I will say that screw it - I am only wearing what's comfortable from now on. [Which, note to self - pregnancy did not somehow absolve you of your allergy to wool, thus the very pretty grey maternity sweater dress you bought still itches like a MOTHER FUCKER when you wear it]

Traditionally non-traditional bling

2007-11-06T11:24:00.000-06:00

Indeed I did forget to follow through on my promise of pictures of the ring.

These pictures are kinda blurry but at least you get an idea for what it looks like. And that big speck on the sapphire? That's sensor dust on the camera. Too lazy to fix it for you this a.m. The ring is a 2.1 carat sapphire set in 18K white gold with about a half a carat of diamonds on the sides. The ring was originally made in 1910 - and now that it's sized down, the ring fits a little different on my finger than it did in these pictures. I love it, but the prongs on it snag often on clothing - and are always catching little bits of fuzz in it. I think you can click the picture to make it bigger.

I swear I wasn't...

2007-11-05T09:42:00.000-06:00

Before you can be sworn into the bar, you have to pass a character & fitness investigation. Basically, they want to make sure that you're not behind on your debts, that you are honest and trustworthy, that you're a good person, etc.

Well - I had submitted my background information back in May - and I still hadn't been cleared. I was starting to panic, as we had to be cleared before November 1st in order to be sworn in. On the 31st, I received a letter that I hadn't been cleared and that I needed to report to a member of the committee for character and fitness. I was in an utter panic. Granted, there were some minor credit issues that I had from about 8 or 9 years ago, but I'd cleared those up and had paid them all off in full. I'd gotten sued in an eviction action by a landlord who had literally forgotten I'd already moved out - and the case was dismissed with prejudice. But there was nothing that was truly troublesome in my past. As it turns out my current employer accidentally mixed things up and essentially said that I was practicing law in this state. The problem with that is you can't technically practice law until you're sworn into a state. So, I can't advise or meet with clients directly until I'm sworn in. Thankfully, I was able to clear the matter up and I got cleared by the committee member in about 15 minutes. What a nightmare though. They also granted me a special exception, and I now get to be sworn in during the big mamba-jamba ceremony this Thursday. Unfortunately, they didn't correct my name in time for the ceremony - so I'll be sworn in under my previously married name - but hey - at least I get sworn in.

Then a week from Thursday we're closing on the house. We're trying to get the house packed up, but I'm now thinking I should have just paid someone else to pack us up. We've got so much crap - and I left so much behind when I left Kansas City. Sheesh.

Pregnancy is going pretty uneventfully. I'm in a weird sleepy phase right now - similar to right at first. I'm asleep every night by 9, and then up wide awake by 3 a.m. - and I try to fight to go back to sleep until 6 or so. I've started gaining weight, but thankfully it all seems to be in the belly thus far. I think my ass, which was sadly a bit flat to start with - will actually end up "negative" space the way things are going. Someone gave me their seat on the train today, so I suppose I must be "looking" pregnant to outsiders now. Heartburn is a bitch, and I'm in love with maternity underwear.

This does not bode well...

2007-10-31T10:52:00.000-05:00

First, let me just say how much I hate people who steal pumpkins. We bought two pumpkins (a huge orange one) and a teensy white one during a trip we took to Traverse City, Michigan. Granted, they didn't cost much )the huge one was maybe $5) but we were planning on carving it tonight.

Of course... someone nicked it from our front porch last night. So we can't. Grrrr.

A few nights ago, Patrick reached over as I was getting undressed and said "oh honey, you've gotten something on your stomach" and tried to wipe it off. It is an angry, red stretch mark on the underside of my pooching belly about an inch and a half long. I'm only at 14 weeks. I shudder to think what my stomach's going to look like at 9 months. As I got horrible stretch marks during puberty on my hips and breasts, I knew it would happen, I just didn't expect it to so quickly.

This is addicting...

2007-10-30T13:42:00.001-05:00

This is utterly fascinating.

http://babynamewizard.com/namevoyager/lnv0105.html

When is this going to stop?

2007-10-30T11:40:00.001-05:00

I spent much of the morning clutching the toilet begging God (or any other deity that would listen) to make me stop throwing up.

Granted, the vomiting isn't every day anymore, but it hurts. My abs and my side muscles ache from it - and my face hurts.

At what point does this actually stop?

I've tried to cut out all the triggers that seem to make it worse. I don't eat things that I don't like the smell of, I shower with the bathroom door open (the temperature change from the steamy shower to the cold apartment sent me reeling all the time). I don't sit in train seats with unobstructed views of the outside.

There are some things though that I have to do - namely, brushing my teeth. Once meticulous about my dental hygiene, let's say that since the pregnancy started, I've been using a lot of mouthwash. I just can't handle the toothbrush in the back of my mouth. Floss either for that point. Gross, I know - but I can only stomach brushing in the morning, and usually every single time it ends up with me prostrate on the tile floor heaving.

After hitting 14 weeks, I thought it would stop. Apparently I was mistaken.

And how is it that something so tiny can make sleeping so damn uncomfortable all the time now? I can't find a single comfortable position at night. Any suggestions for that would also be appreciated as I'll spend 10 hours in bed, and wake up completely exhausted.

Now back stateside with genetic counseling report

2007-10-29T10:03:00.000-05:00

Sheep grazing in a peat field in Donegal County. They're spray painted like that after they're sheared each spring to provide a quick way to identify who they belong to from afar.

Meenaclady in County Donegal right across from Tory Island.

View from our bedroom in the hotel in Gweedore, far Northwestern corner of the country. Gweedore is actually a completely Irish speaking area - and English was hard to come by. The shipwrecked boat in the picture can be seen up close a few images down.

Sunset at The Giant's Causeway, Northern Ireland.

Looking back over the cliffs close to Portrush, Northern Ireland.

Decaying boat run aground in Gweedore (Northwestern corner of Ireland).

(If you click on the pictures, you can see them larger)

The trip was lovely, though it rained the majority of time we were there - and was a "bit" blustery. Think sustained winds of close to 60 mph. with gusts topping 80. We flew into Dublin and rented a car (which was "upgraded" to an SUV). Sigh. The roads there are far too narrow for SUVs, never mind the cost of gasoline in something that large. We spent the first night in Gweedore, Ireland (Gaoth Dobhair) - in the far northwestern corner. Gaoth refers to an inlet of the sea at the mouth of the Crolly River. It is the boundary between Gweedore to the north and the Rosses to the south. Dobhar is an old Irish word for water. Gaoth Dobhair translates as the aqueous estuary. The next day we slept in a little and then traversed across to Northern Ireland along the coast. Now, Ireland uses the Euro and measures distances by kilometers. Northern Ireland (part of the U.K.) uses the Pound Sterling and measures distances by miles. We had to quickly do conversions in our head as the Pathfinder only had kms on the speedometer.
We drove to The Giants Causeway on the northern coast, and then back down to Belfast and then through to Dublin. Our flight left early the next morning, and honestly after all the travelling we'd done. We'd upgraded to business class and we lucked out and had the new lay flat seats on American. Loved them. When we got home yesterday we just sort of chilled with the kittens, and decided to take the day off from anything strenuous.
Today I got the results back from my genetic testing. We have a 1 in 1,128 chance of Down Syndrome and a 1 in 10,000 chance of the other two trisomies they tested for that I don't honestly remember what were. Huge relief.
Patrick's taking the remainder of our earnest money to the real estate agent today. We close on Nov. 15, so it's only about two weeks away. We're hoping to move that following Saturday - so we're starting to pack up the apartment, get utilities set up, etc.