One of the best parts, and I mean truly awesome fantastic parts of my marriage is that Ivan and I are usually in sync. Politically, artistically, musically, it's pretty freakin' cool to live with and snog someone who thinks like you do, only better.
I have this thing left over from growing up where sometimes, it's hard for me to figure out appropriate responses to given scenarios. I know I'm damaged because the way my family does things just isn't right, and I accept that. I think that every day I get a little better at "appropriate." I haven't chased anyone down screaming abuse at them and waving a flaming baseball bat with intent to do bodily harm in oh, ages.
Because of the aforementioned sync between me and my husband, I tend to trust his responses in these cases, and I'm usually able to resolve my feelings with those responses. They feel right, and that makes sense to me.
But right now nothing feels right about what Ivan thinks I should do, even though I know it -and he - likely is.
Jackson's owner came to pick him up while Ivan, Kate, and I were away in FL. Savannah had decided she didn't want to go, so she was house- and dog-sitting.
According to her original scenario, his owner just showed up on the doorstep, said she had no need to call us because he was taking his dog, and reached across our threshold to grab Jackson by the collar.
Obviously, this upset and enraged me. Because that's what things like that do in the best of times, and right now, hormonally speaking, this is not the best of times.
We arrived home from FL late Sunday and there was a message on our answering machine that clearly predated the dognapping. I didn't get to hear it because Ivan deleted it but I presume it was polite and matter-of-fact because Ivan did not unleash the hound of hell (his spouse). Instead, he relayed the information and told me when it was recorded.
I am still full of outrage, simply because the asshole abandoned Jackson in the first place.
Ivan says to let it go. I want to call Animal Control. He says to leave it alone. I want to spray paint their house with "CRUEL TO ANIMALS". He thinks I shouldn't.
Okay, he's definitely right about the last one.
But still. I'm not okay with this and while I want to let it go, that dog will haunt me for a long time. I need a resolution and while Kate and Ivan both tell me that the owner loves that dog and will likely take good care of it in future... I have no guarantee. And I want the best things for Jackson.
Yes, I know my hormones are really playing a huge part in this. And I know I have issues when it comes to animal cruelty. I don't care. For a very short time he was my baby and I want him safe.
I'm not okay with this.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Jackson, or How To Break My Heart.
Yeah. Those are his hip bones.
And he's such a good dog.
Why? Who could do this to such a lovey sweet boy?
I hate people.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
We Have a Houseguest.
And he has the most lethal farts I've ever suffered.
Kate and I had a lovely day together yesterday, fighting torrential rains and 37-degree F weather (because, it couldn't get 5 degrees colder and give us a slightly less soggy and more enjoyable experience) in order to finish up some Christmas shopping.
At one point she mentioned that between hanging out with us and her new boyfriend and trying to stay with friends in the city where she's working so that she has transportation to work... she hadn't been back to her pied-a-terre in about a week. She wanted to check on a former roommate's dog, because when he was evicted he just abandoned the poor thing. SO we grabbed a bag of dog food and headed over there.
When we got there, it was clear the dog had not been fed since she was last home.
Jackson the two-year-old black Lab was in such poor condition that he could barely walk. His ribs, spine, and hip bones are all clearly delineated, and his eyes were so red and rheumy that I thought he had an eye infection. He limps and favors his front right paw; I wonder if he was so weak and disoriented from his emaciation that he fell on it and sprained it. It's not broken or fractured, thank goodness. Without thinking about it, I told Kate to bring him to the car. He could barely walk there, and Kate had to lift him up into the back seat. When he got inside, he could barely sit by himself.
All the way home I kept thinking, "The only thing that will keep Ivan from killing me is to throw myself on his mercy." So I did.
And my wonderful, patient, non-dog-loving husband did not let me down.
I'm seriously still shaking and every time I think about this, I cry. You should have heard me on the phone with the animal hospital earlier. I could barely get the words out. The "golden voice" was wobbly and cracked every sentence. I couldn't sleep last night because I wasn't sure he was going to make it through the night. I fed him at 3 AM just to be on the safe side.
The good news is that today he is looking so much better. His eyes are clear and no longer weeping. He hasn't lost any hair. He is much more active and alert. The vet thinks he needs another week or two of rest and gentle convalescence before we try to get him placed, but feels that he should be able to make a full recovery.
And my knight in shining armor played tug-of-war with him today. To watch Jackson's tail wag is to brim over with tears yet again. To see him curled up by Ivan's chair is to realize how much I love my gentle, protective husband, whose qualities an abandoned and hopeful dog can see and feel.
And when Jackson farts, all Ivan says is, "Good God, dude..."
I don't think I can love that man more than right now.
Kate and I had a lovely day together yesterday, fighting torrential rains and 37-degree F weather (because, it couldn't get 5 degrees colder and give us a slightly less soggy and more enjoyable experience) in order to finish up some Christmas shopping.
At one point she mentioned that between hanging out with us and her new boyfriend and trying to stay with friends in the city where she's working so that she has transportation to work... she hadn't been back to her pied-a-terre in about a week. She wanted to check on a former roommate's dog, because when he was evicted he just abandoned the poor thing. SO we grabbed a bag of dog food and headed over there.
When we got there, it was clear the dog had not been fed since she was last home.
Jackson the two-year-old black Lab was in such poor condition that he could barely walk. His ribs, spine, and hip bones are all clearly delineated, and his eyes were so red and rheumy that I thought he had an eye infection. He limps and favors his front right paw; I wonder if he was so weak and disoriented from his emaciation that he fell on it and sprained it. It's not broken or fractured, thank goodness. Without thinking about it, I told Kate to bring him to the car. He could barely walk there, and Kate had to lift him up into the back seat. When he got inside, he could barely sit by himself.
All the way home I kept thinking, "The only thing that will keep Ivan from killing me is to throw myself on his mercy." So I did.
And my wonderful, patient, non-dog-loving husband did not let me down.
I'm seriously still shaking and every time I think about this, I cry. You should have heard me on the phone with the animal hospital earlier. I could barely get the words out. The "golden voice" was wobbly and cracked every sentence. I couldn't sleep last night because I wasn't sure he was going to make it through the night. I fed him at 3 AM just to be on the safe side.
The good news is that today he is looking so much better. His eyes are clear and no longer weeping. He hasn't lost any hair. He is much more active and alert. The vet thinks he needs another week or two of rest and gentle convalescence before we try to get him placed, but feels that he should be able to make a full recovery.
And my knight in shining armor played tug-of-war with him today. To watch Jackson's tail wag is to brim over with tears yet again. To see him curled up by Ivan's chair is to realize how much I love my gentle, protective husband, whose qualities an abandoned and hopeful dog can see and feel.
And when Jackson farts, all Ivan says is, "Good God, dude..."
I don't think I can love that man more than right now.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Dear Bissell, You Need To Hire Me.
Firstly, I'd like to congratulate you on a product that is sturdy enough to live through the twin challenges of over-abundant pet hair and indifferent carpet cleaners - to whit, my daughters. While they have performed the spirit of the thing, their methods have been lackadaisical at best and when coupled with the aforementioned pet hair, have created the need for me field-stripping the machine. For the most part, a general rinsing is fine, but join me here.
Picture, if you will, a Siberian Husky. Here, I'll help.
Typically our Bissell performs superlatively. I'm always happy with the results. Now, that being said, I will admit that there are several areas on your product with which I have great complaint. These are, notably, areas in which pet hair and other detritus can and will get clogged.
I understand that the owner's manual distinctly states, "Vacuum surface thoroughly before using this machine." I know. And I also know that you bear no responsibility for the continued operation of my machine if I don't follow the directions.
But c'mon. We're both people of the world. We know it's not a perfect place. And in this case, directions most certainly were not followed, resulting in this...
And there's plenty more where that came from... in the main tank compartment, in the brushes, and anywhere else into which dog hair can protrude its doggy hairiness.
Most of the hair is fairly easy to clean out but there are some areas that are problematic, like...
You will note that the aperture through which to enter and clean out the dog hair is... noticeably smaller than my fingers.
And hence, I am led to the real tangent of this letter.
Now, once again, I realize you are not responsible for saving me from my stupidity. But surely I'm not the only person who has either had their lackeys fail them or suffered a momentary lapse of judgment. And do you really want to punish us so heinously for our sins?
So, being the ingenious crafty type I am, and having many years of experience in repurposing common tools for uncommon purposes (the number of uses I have for a butter knife should be legendary), I have found a tool that I consider invaluable in cleaning this machine... and I believe you should include one with each unit sold.
It's inexpensive, hardy, and practically foolproof. It is... the common citrus peeler:
Please note the slim shape of the poky end (you may wish to have one of your writers revise my technical vocabulary as it may be too advanced for typical consumers). The fact that the poky end is also curved is an added bonus for cleaning the part in question. It's perfect for digging into the aperture above:
As you can see, the machine has been restored to almost new condition. And I would love to tell you that it works beautifully, but I somehow melted the bladder when I was pouring in hot water which I'd heated... to below boiling, I swear... on the stove. You may note my request for a replacement part arriving soon.
In conclusion, please consider the foibles of we mere mortals. Save us from our folly with either a completely disassemble-able machine, or an appropriate cleaning tool.
And recognize my brilliance and ingenuity by giving me a position in your R&D or testing facility. Either that, or send me royalty checks against the day when, unarmed with my know-how and secret weapon, large swarms of people will be forced to replace their carpet cleaners - or I'll find a way to get the word out and squash all that lovely revenue.
With love,
A Loyal Customer
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
How Long Is That In Dog Years?
Yesterday I hit 22 weeks of pregnancy, which is both longer and shorter than it sounds. I feel like I can't remember not being pregnant, and yet April seems pretty far away. Even though it's only four and a half months.
Trying to remember how pregnant I am isn't easy, either. There's this weird thing that happens to months when you're pregnant.
Someone on the birth forums of which I am a part said that she was 6 months pregnant. Now, her due date is after mine. So I questioned this. She said, "Learn to count;
1-4 weeks is month one,
5-8 weeks is month two,
9-12 weeks is month three,
13-16 weeks is month four,
17-20 weeks is month five,
21-24 weeks is month six,
25-28 weeks is month seven,
29-32 weeks is month eight,
33-36 weeks is month nine."
I said, "I can do math, too. 22/4 = 5.5 months pregnant."
But apparently it doesn't work that way, which is why I always feel cheated out of that tenth month for which I do not get credit.
Because 37 - 40 weeks is month ten, darnit... and I have never gone under 40 weeks.
Mama is willing to buy lots of Matchboxes for the kiddo that breaks the streak... just sayin'.
Trying to remember how pregnant I am isn't easy, either. There's this weird thing that happens to months when you're pregnant.
Someone on the birth forums of which I am a part said that she was 6 months pregnant. Now, her due date is after mine. So I questioned this. She said, "Learn to count;
1-4 weeks is month one,
5-8 weeks is month two,
9-12 weeks is month three,
13-16 weeks is month four,
17-20 weeks is month five,
21-24 weeks is month six,
25-28 weeks is month seven,
29-32 weeks is month eight,
33-36 weeks is month nine."
I said, "I can do math, too. 22/4 = 5.5 months pregnant."
But apparently it doesn't work that way, which is why I always feel cheated out of that tenth month for which I do not get credit.
Because 37 - 40 weeks is month ten, darnit... and I have never gone under 40 weeks.
Mama is willing to buy lots of Matchboxes for the kiddo that breaks the streak... just sayin'.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Two Weeks Makes Big Differences.
It's crazy. Before the big anatomy ultrasound, the baby wasn't moving around much at all. Now, I feel him throughout the day.
Mostly, it's just little movements, like he's fluttering around, getting his thumb in his mouth, yawning, what have you. But every now and then I'll feel a big kick. It always surprises me and makes me say, "Oh!" I don't know why.
I was on my stomach on the bed and it felt like he was pushing back, saying, "Hey, Mom! Getoff me!"
Last night, Ivan was singing to him, and had his hand right where the kiddo was tucked up... and he got to feel a push back.
Amazing thing.
Mostly, it's just little movements, like he's fluttering around, getting his thumb in his mouth, yawning, what have you. But every now and then I'll feel a big kick. It always surprises me and makes me say, "Oh!" I don't know why.
I was on my stomach on the bed and it felt like he was pushing back, saying, "Hey, Mom! Getoff me!"
Last night, Ivan was singing to him, and had his hand right where the kiddo was tucked up... and he got to feel a push back.
Amazing thing.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Halfway There, And Ivan Is Right Again.
Yes, we hit 19 weeks last week, which is technically halfway through the assumed 38-week gestation period. Both Kate and Savannah went over by 2 weeks each; let's see if Scary Baby will be doing the same.
And speaking of Scary Baby, I think it's time for a renaming... to Stubborn Baby. But let me start at the beginning.
On Friday - Ivan's birthday - we had our extra-special super-duper high-resolution ultrasound, which showed EVERYTHING. One of the first things our tech said, however, was, "Oh good... looks like your placenta previa has healed and your placenta has moved up nicely." Placenta Previa? Gee, is this why I had some unexplained vaginal bleeding last trimester? For which I intuitively put myself on bed rest? Okay, I'm glad it's healed, but I would have liked to know about it, since placenta previa isn't terribly dangerous... unless you have vaginal bleeding... anyway, not to dwell on it; the placenta has moved out of the way, and Kiddo is currently head down and was resting his toes on it.
Back to the scan! We saw four chambers in the heart, lips (no cleft palate), nicely forming brain, kidneys, bladder, and stomach all where they belong on the inside, and even got a picture of Kiddo yawning:
Not yawning, profile... nose is so cute:
Yawning (baby apparently does not like morning, kinda like Daddy and big sisters):
Then we got a nice look at the spine, of which I'd have loved to have a picture, since it was so neat to see something so recognizable in such miniature. Now, all this time, Stubborn Baby was turning away from the ultrasound probe at every possible chance, so the tech had to really jiggle my belly around to get ... the money shot...
And speaking of Scary Baby, I think it's time for a renaming... to Stubborn Baby. But let me start at the beginning.
On Friday - Ivan's birthday - we had our extra-special super-duper high-resolution ultrasound, which showed EVERYTHING. One of the first things our tech said, however, was, "Oh good... looks like your placenta previa has healed and your placenta has moved up nicely." Placenta Previa? Gee, is this why I had some unexplained vaginal bleeding last trimester? For which I intuitively put myself on bed rest? Okay, I'm glad it's healed, but I would have liked to know about it, since placenta previa isn't terribly dangerous... unless you have vaginal bleeding... anyway, not to dwell on it; the placenta has moved out of the way, and Kiddo is currently head down and was resting his toes on it.
Back to the scan! We saw four chambers in the heart, lips (no cleft palate), nicely forming brain, kidneys, bladder, and stomach all where they belong on the inside, and even got a picture of Kiddo yawning:
Not yawning, profile... nose is so cute:
Yawning (baby apparently does not like morning, kinda like Daddy and big sisters):
Then we got a nice look at the spine, of which I'd have loved to have a picture, since it was so neat to see something so recognizable in such miniature. Now, all this time, Stubborn Baby was turning away from the ultrasound probe at every possible chance, so the tech had to really jiggle my belly around to get ... the money shot...
And for an even better (closer) view...
Yep, that's a boy, alright... the tech said everything except "I bet my life on that sucker being boy parts." She was very definite.
And so, Scary Baby - Stubborn Baby - is now... Baby Ivan. I cried. A son. We have a son! His big sisters are ecstatic and his daddy is smug. How's that for a birthday present?
Baby Ivan was still scary this time, though... he kept hiding his umbilical cord from the tech, and she could only count 2 blood vessels in the cord. Normally, there is one vein providing nutrients and oxygen to the baby, and two arteries taking waste products away from the baby and back to the placenta. When there aren't the right number of vessels, it tends to indicate congenital defects such as chromosomal anomalies.
Unfortunately, the techs aren't allowed to share that information with the patient - they have to go get the doctor who will review the scan and then inform the parents. Also unfortunately, techs are human, and sometimes not very good about hiding their concerns from the parents. I think it's sad that they can't even say, "I'm not seeing something I was looking for, so I'll go get the doctor," because parents are not stupid and can tell that something is wrong. All the tech is allowed to say is, "I'll be right back with the doctor." Not so reassuring.
Our tech was clearly worried, and I saw her write "2 bvac???" on the scan. So I kinda knew what was going on. Fortunately at the last moment she saw the third vessel for which she was looking, and her relief was immense and kinda comical. I actually felt more sorry for her than relief for us!
However, the doctor came in and reviewed everything and all is well. Had some blood drawn for my AFP (checks proteins in blood for indicators of chromosomal defect) but at this point, it's kinda moot. We saw absolutely NO soft markers for birth defects on the scan. So we feel there is no need to jeopardize our son's health by opting for the amniocentesis.
Baby Ivan was head-to-heel measuring 21.6 cm and 11 ounces - pretty big for 19.5 weeks. Clearly he is thriving.
On Tuesday, I met with one of our OB teams for a check up - Dr. Grillo. Told him the results of the Level II and he agreed - no need for the amnio. He measured my uterus and then spent some time with the doppler machine looking for a heartbeat. Once again, our stubborn son hid from the probe. Took a good five minutes of a 30-year professional in his field looking. But Dr. G. wouldn't give up ("Ultrasounds are for sissies... ptooey!" Okay, he didn't say it, but he LOOKED it...) and eventually, higher up than expected, we found the heartbeat, steady and fast.
So everything is good! And as I said, Ivan is right again. It's really revolting, particularly when you (I) are (am) the one who is, by default, wrong. He predicted an iron deficiency for me when I was having so much trouble with my energy level. Turns out... I'm anemic. Yep. I don't have to take iron supplements yet, but Dr. Grillo wants me to increase my vitamin C intake anyway to bolster my immune system (I had a nasty upper respiratory infection the week before last), and that will help me absorb iron more efficiently. Eating more beans and beef should help. And adjusting my diet back to pre-morning sickness. I still hate broccoli and have to cover it with sauce to get it down, but I'm trying gamely. Salads are my friend. One of these days I will start making my morning spinach smoothies again.
Maybe next week. For the rest of this week, I'm going to luxuriate in maternity pants and the vital role they will play in my holiday celebration ("why, yes... I don't mind if I do have some pumpkin pie AND apple crisp..."). I will help Ivan Sr. enjoy his other birthday present - the XBox 360 he's wanted since Christmas last. And I will start to work on a baby blanket, and I will enjoy being able to crochet in blue. Because I can.
Next week I will be fully recovered from my virus, will have had a good few days' of extra C, and will be ready to take on the world. Or at least my favorite walking trail.
SO much to be thankful for right now. For this, and all of you, and everything to come.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Things I Have Learned So Far (17 weeks, 3 days).
1. Marie Callendar pot pies require a strip of aluminum foil around the crust. The circumference of the pot pie is exactly one inch larger than the length of my aluminum foil.
2. I suck at aluminum foil.
3. I will eat almost anything that goes appropriately with mustard. I prefer pretzels but if I must resort to say, corn dogs or hot dogs, I know no shame.
4. Pregnancy causes your immune system to become depressed. I think mine must be downright suicidal. If someone sneezes in the next county, I will become infected.
5. Car seat manufacturers in this country assume that every parent drives an SUV. I have had to reconsider my top three choices for car seats because the base of the seat will not fit the Prius.
6. Babies R Us is designed specifically to drive already-hormonally fragile women over the edge by overwhelming them with sheer volume of Stuff they put on your registry checklist. Although I'm looking forward to playing with the scanner. I'm registering at both BRU and Amazon; I suspect the prices and availability of stuff is better at Amazon, but I get a super cool discount at BRU on stuff that's left on my registry after my due date. Great for things like larger sized clothes and older baby toys!
7. Pregnancy intensifies personality. If you're pretty laidback normally, you become sentimental and maudlin and cry over dog food commercials (not that I know anyone like this...). If you're easily upset, you become a raging bitch and feel perfectly justified in blaming your nastiness on your pregnancy. If you're critical of the lifestyle of others, you feel absolutely free to voice your opinion of said lifestyle in a manner for which normal people (or the sentimental and maudlin variety) want to find you and wash your mouth out with soap. Preferably soap with exfoliating beads.
7a. I mean, seriously. Does it really matter if someone else prefers prefolds to pocket diapers? Or will be using tap water instead of filtered water to mix formula? Or will have relatives over to help with the baby after he or she is born? Do women who breastfeed really deny their husbands an important bonding experience? These are honest-to-goodness things pregnant women argue about, and call other women "selfish," "materialistic," "spoiled," "apathetic and uncaring," and I could go on.
8. Buying maternity jeans one size up for "comfort" is a bad idea. I now have jeans that want to fall off my hips because I do not yet have the tummy to hold them up. If I bought my right size, at least my bum would have acted as a stopgap.
9. Ivan is awesome at pregnant. Seriously. He has been a real trooper and source of strength. He reels me in when I need it and takes very tender care of my tummy. He reminds me to rest, take my vitamins, and eat the right food. And he sang the Indiana fight song to the tummy this weekend. Pretty awesome stuff.
10. It's finally getting real. My stomach is filling out and getting hard. I'm almost afraid to say this, but I think I've been feeling flutters. Last night, Ivan was poking my stomach and saying, "Come out and play!" and right after he quit, I felt a "thump." I can't wait to see his face in another month when he can feel it, too.
I'm sure there's more, but ten is good for now.
2. I suck at aluminum foil.
3. I will eat almost anything that goes appropriately with mustard. I prefer pretzels but if I must resort to say, corn dogs or hot dogs, I know no shame.
4. Pregnancy causes your immune system to become depressed. I think mine must be downright suicidal. If someone sneezes in the next county, I will become infected.
5. Car seat manufacturers in this country assume that every parent drives an SUV. I have had to reconsider my top three choices for car seats because the base of the seat will not fit the Prius.
6. Babies R Us is designed specifically to drive already-hormonally fragile women over the edge by overwhelming them with sheer volume of Stuff they put on your registry checklist. Although I'm looking forward to playing with the scanner. I'm registering at both BRU and Amazon; I suspect the prices and availability of stuff is better at Amazon, but I get a super cool discount at BRU on stuff that's left on my registry after my due date. Great for things like larger sized clothes and older baby toys!
7. Pregnancy intensifies personality. If you're pretty laidback normally, you become sentimental and maudlin and cry over dog food commercials (not that I know anyone like this...). If you're easily upset, you become a raging bitch and feel perfectly justified in blaming your nastiness on your pregnancy. If you're critical of the lifestyle of others, you feel absolutely free to voice your opinion of said lifestyle in a manner for which normal people (or the sentimental and maudlin variety) want to find you and wash your mouth out with soap. Preferably soap with exfoliating beads.
7a. I mean, seriously. Does it really matter if someone else prefers prefolds to pocket diapers? Or will be using tap water instead of filtered water to mix formula? Or will have relatives over to help with the baby after he or she is born? Do women who breastfeed really deny their husbands an important bonding experience? These are honest-to-goodness things pregnant women argue about, and call other women "selfish," "materialistic," "spoiled," "apathetic and uncaring," and I could go on.
8. Buying maternity jeans one size up for "comfort" is a bad idea. I now have jeans that want to fall off my hips because I do not yet have the tummy to hold them up. If I bought my right size, at least my bum would have acted as a stopgap.
9. Ivan is awesome at pregnant. Seriously. He has been a real trooper and source of strength. He reels me in when I need it and takes very tender care of my tummy. He reminds me to rest, take my vitamins, and eat the right food. And he sang the Indiana fight song to the tummy this weekend. Pretty awesome stuff.
10. It's finally getting real. My stomach is filling out and getting hard. I'm almost afraid to say this, but I think I've been feeling flutters. Last night, Ivan was poking my stomach and saying, "Come out and play!" and right after he quit, I felt a "thump." I can't wait to see his face in another month when he can feel it, too.
I'm sure there's more, but ten is good for now.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Scary Baby Scared The Parents.
We had our 16-week checkup yesterday! As an added value bonus, I also got my H1N1 vaccine. After having the 'flu with Savannah, I am not taking that risk again - and this one seems to be really nasty for people with immunocompromised systems... like say, pregnant women. And possibly women who get sick easily even without being pregnant. And former smokers. And... I digress. A poke in the arm for a 'flu vaccine never killed me before, and going without it one year potentially could have killed Savannah... so I'm taking no chances.
And as you can surmise, I'm still alive.
But on to Scary Baby!
I decided not to know what my weight gain is but the really good news is that my blood pressure seems to have come back to "normal" - I was 118/70 which makes me much happier. After about 20 minutes (longest we've ever had to wait here), we met our first lady doc, Dr. Gould. Really nice and very helpful. Since she didn't ask me about gestational diabetes or talk to me about weight gain I assume I'm progressing nicely. We talked about why my heart and head are pounding and why I have constant headaches, and the reason is... "You're pregnant!" She told me how to get around nosy pharmacists who don't want to give pregnant women decongestants (yes, this happened to me)... send Ivan to get them for me! I now have a game plan.
She then skipped straight to the fact that we have not set up an amniocentesis date. At first I was kinda annoyed about this. Two out of three appointments have seemed to focus on why Ivan and I aren't scheduling an as-yet unneeded amniocentesis. The philosophy behind doing so seems to be, "Well, what if you need to make a Decision?"
We already have! We have decided to await the results of our integrated screening. A quick explanation....
There are a couple different ways a couple can pursue genetic screening. There's the fast but least accurate way, which would have given us early results (we'd have known by now what our odds are of having a baby with a genetic defect) but with an extremely high rate of false positives. There's the not-as-fast quad screening, which also has a (slightly lower) unacceptable rate of false positives. Both these tests consist of the nuchal fold ultrasound measurement and a single blood test in the first trimester. They're done mostly so that parents can decide whether to go ahead and schedule an amnio right away.
We opted for the slowest but surest method, which involves the nuchal fold measurement, two blood tests, and a high-resolution (level II) ultrasound. We won't find out til all of the work is done and the results are processed and combined to give us our odds of having a child with genetic defects, but we will have 90-95% accuracy.
The big reason for getting an amniocentesis done is so we could make another decision if need be - whether or not to have a therapeutic abortion. Couples make this choice based on chromosomal anomalies routinely, and the earlier in pregnancy it's done, the better. We have some pretty definite ideas of what we would need to see on the high-res ultrasound to convince us that we need this. We would need to see a baby that is clearly incompatible with life and for whom dragging it down the birth canal only to put it through excruciating pain for the three or four hours it lives would be intolerable agony. We couldn't do that to our child.
An amniocentesis would reveal anomalies that might require medical intervention at birth - but so will a high resolution ultrasound. Since there still is a small risk that amniocentesis can cause a miscarriage, we want to avoid it if at all possible. If the high resolution ultrasound reveals minor issues that are still compatible with life, we'll have the amniocentesis done to see what we're facing down the road. Otherwise, we prefer not to take the risk.
The concern our doctors (who really do seem concerned) have is that most states will not perform therapeutic abortions beyond the 22-24 week mark. Well, we're wrapping up the bloodwork and ultrasounds at the 19 week mark, and I've been assured we should have results back within the following week. So if, and obviously we want this to be a big IF, we need to make that decision, we'll have the time to do it.
I always hate talking and typing about this stuff. Makes me teary and what not. But we were able to convey this to Dr. Gould and she was right on board.
So, after this big long discussion about why we are not all fired up to get amniocentesis scheduled before the results of our integrated screening, we moved on to the heartbeat time, yay! I hopped up on the table and bared my belly.
No yay. No heartbeat. Dr. Gould was chatting to us while she looked and I was chatting back gamely, and it still wasn't there. She reassured me that it was still pretty challenging to find the heartbeat with the Doppler instrument this early, and decided to go find out if the room with the ultrasound machine was available.
She left. I hopped off the table and dived at Ivan. I didn't cry. I felt like I was holding together pretty well and I know, know, KNOW that babies can be difficult this early. Ivan and I made small talk about nothing I can remember and I compulsively rubbed his fuzzy head.
Four years, three months, and two days later she came back and took us to the ultrasound room.
And there was Scary Baby! In all his lazy, non-moving glory. For a moment I panicked because I didn't see the heart flicker that we saw the last three times, but he IS getting skin and fat deposits and stuff, so it stands to reason. After moving the instrument around a little bit, Dr. Gould was able to find the heart beat at 144 bpm. Scary Baby is sitting up pretty high, which makes it understandable that he was hard to find on the Doppler.
Dr. Gould told us about a time she was using a Doppler and couldn't hear anything on it... no placental noise, nothing. She looked at the battery indicator and said, "Oh, it died..." and you can imagine the mother's reaction... she said she had to backpedal reeeeally fast and explain that she was talking about the machine... not the baby...
I think I still would prefer that to Scary Baby, who is sleeping comfortably and has drained me with all the excitement he caused. Nap time, and then I have a gorgeous grapefruit awaiting my afternoon graze. He seems to like those. I'm hoping enough vitamin C will help my sinuses get ungermy and thus, the headache I've had for two weeks will go away.
Here's to hope!
And as you can surmise, I'm still alive.
But on to Scary Baby!
I decided not to know what my weight gain is but the really good news is that my blood pressure seems to have come back to "normal" - I was 118/70 which makes me much happier. After about 20 minutes (longest we've ever had to wait here), we met our first lady doc, Dr. Gould. Really nice and very helpful. Since she didn't ask me about gestational diabetes or talk to me about weight gain I assume I'm progressing nicely. We talked about why my heart and head are pounding and why I have constant headaches, and the reason is... "You're pregnant!" She told me how to get around nosy pharmacists who don't want to give pregnant women decongestants (yes, this happened to me)... send Ivan to get them for me! I now have a game plan.
She then skipped straight to the fact that we have not set up an amniocentesis date. At first I was kinda annoyed about this. Two out of three appointments have seemed to focus on why Ivan and I aren't scheduling an as-yet unneeded amniocentesis. The philosophy behind doing so seems to be, "Well, what if you need to make a Decision?"
We already have! We have decided to await the results of our integrated screening. A quick explanation....
There are a couple different ways a couple can pursue genetic screening. There's the fast but least accurate way, which would have given us early results (we'd have known by now what our odds are of having a baby with a genetic defect) but with an extremely high rate of false positives. There's the not-as-fast quad screening, which also has a (slightly lower) unacceptable rate of false positives. Both these tests consist of the nuchal fold ultrasound measurement and a single blood test in the first trimester. They're done mostly so that parents can decide whether to go ahead and schedule an amnio right away.
We opted for the slowest but surest method, which involves the nuchal fold measurement, two blood tests, and a high-resolution (level II) ultrasound. We won't find out til all of the work is done and the results are processed and combined to give us our odds of having a child with genetic defects, but we will have 90-95% accuracy.
The big reason for getting an amniocentesis done is so we could make another decision if need be - whether or not to have a therapeutic abortion. Couples make this choice based on chromosomal anomalies routinely, and the earlier in pregnancy it's done, the better. We have some pretty definite ideas of what we would need to see on the high-res ultrasound to convince us that we need this. We would need to see a baby that is clearly incompatible with life and for whom dragging it down the birth canal only to put it through excruciating pain for the three or four hours it lives would be intolerable agony. We couldn't do that to our child.
An amniocentesis would reveal anomalies that might require medical intervention at birth - but so will a high resolution ultrasound. Since there still is a small risk that amniocentesis can cause a miscarriage, we want to avoid it if at all possible. If the high resolution ultrasound reveals minor issues that are still compatible with life, we'll have the amniocentesis done to see what we're facing down the road. Otherwise, we prefer not to take the risk.
The concern our doctors (who really do seem concerned) have is that most states will not perform therapeutic abortions beyond the 22-24 week mark. Well, we're wrapping up the bloodwork and ultrasounds at the 19 week mark, and I've been assured we should have results back within the following week. So if, and obviously we want this to be a big IF, we need to make that decision, we'll have the time to do it.
I always hate talking and typing about this stuff. Makes me teary and what not. But we were able to convey this to Dr. Gould and she was right on board.
So, after this big long discussion about why we are not all fired up to get amniocentesis scheduled before the results of our integrated screening, we moved on to the heartbeat time, yay! I hopped up on the table and bared my belly.
No yay. No heartbeat. Dr. Gould was chatting to us while she looked and I was chatting back gamely, and it still wasn't there. She reassured me that it was still pretty challenging to find the heartbeat with the Doppler instrument this early, and decided to go find out if the room with the ultrasound machine was available.
She left. I hopped off the table and dived at Ivan. I didn't cry. I felt like I was holding together pretty well and I know, know, KNOW that babies can be difficult this early. Ivan and I made small talk about nothing I can remember and I compulsively rubbed his fuzzy head.
Four years, three months, and two days later she came back and took us to the ultrasound room.
And there was Scary Baby! In all his lazy, non-moving glory. For a moment I panicked because I didn't see the heart flicker that we saw the last three times, but he IS getting skin and fat deposits and stuff, so it stands to reason. After moving the instrument around a little bit, Dr. Gould was able to find the heart beat at 144 bpm. Scary Baby is sitting up pretty high, which makes it understandable that he was hard to find on the Doppler.
Dr. Gould told us about a time she was using a Doppler and couldn't hear anything on it... no placental noise, nothing. She looked at the battery indicator and said, "Oh, it died..." and you can imagine the mother's reaction... she said she had to backpedal reeeeally fast and explain that she was talking about the machine... not the baby...
I think I still would prefer that to Scary Baby, who is sleeping comfortably and has drained me with all the excitement he caused. Nap time, and then I have a gorgeous grapefruit awaiting my afternoon graze. He seems to like those. I'm hoping enough vitamin C will help my sinuses get ungermy and thus, the headache I've had for two weeks will go away.
Here's to hope!
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Pregnant Brain!
I can't believe I forgot to make this blog entry. I actually thought I had, and was a bit bummed that I didn't really feel like I had anything to write. Then Ivan told me I hadn't made it... Doh!
So, we had our nuchal translucency screening on Friday the 9th October. And this is what we saw...
And we were able to take the necessary measurements. We measured a 1.5mm fold, which was well within normal range (anything under 2mm is considered normal). Kiddo was also 7.5 cm long (3 inches) and had a heart rate of 154.
We'll be going back to our regular clinic for our monthly checkup on the 27th October (at 16 weeks) and then! We'll have our wicked cool Level II ultrasound... on Ivan's birthday! We'll be 19 and a half weeks. In addition to cool measurements and possible gender identification, I'll be finishing up the integrated screening with another donation of my precious blood. About a week or two after that, we'll get back the results, and have an idea if any genetic abnormalities will be popping up.
Since the tendency with the NT scan is toward false positives - meaning the fold measures abnormally high - I'm already feeling pretty good about our odds.
I'm over the queasiness! And I'm starting to get some energy back. Still having shortness of breath, and my blood pressure is still going up - well, the systolic is, at 124 (it was 110 two weeks before getting pregnant); the diastolic is going back to my normal of 65-68. But I'm not as lightheaded. I just feel my heartbeat racing all the time. Very disconcerting.
I am also having problems sitting for long periods of time; my sciatica is flaring up when I do, and my hips and knees ache like mad. We went to see "Where the Wild Things Are" last night (loved it), and for the last half hour, I was in agony. By the time we got home, my entire lower body ached. I slept with a pillow between my knees and just focused on relaxing. When I woke, my pain was gone. So apparently, the hormones that cause your cartilage to soften are working just fine, and I just need to listen to my body... no sitting still for long periods of time.
Otherwise, things are good. Recent bizarre cravings have been: corned beef hash and eggs (seriously, who eats that anymore... besides me); taco shells (no filling, just the shell); and more mustard. Mustard? Can that much mustard possibly be healthy for me?
Will post again... sooner!
So, we had our nuchal translucency screening on Friday the 9th October. And this is what we saw...
Yes, a sleeping baby. Kiddo was not interested in being awake at 8:30 A.M. The head and arm (curled kinda under the head) are to the left and the rump is to the right; child is faced away from the nasty ultrasound waves.
After much jiggling of my belly and having me turn on my side, we got this:
Which the ultrasound tech labeled, "Hi guys!!!" But Ivan and I know it really was more of a, "Mmmph... go 'way, I'm sleeping!" type wave.
Finally, kiddo cooperated and gave us this:
And we were able to take the necessary measurements. We measured a 1.5mm fold, which was well within normal range (anything under 2mm is considered normal). Kiddo was also 7.5 cm long (3 inches) and had a heart rate of 154.
We'll be going back to our regular clinic for our monthly checkup on the 27th October (at 16 weeks) and then! We'll have our wicked cool Level II ultrasound... on Ivan's birthday! We'll be 19 and a half weeks. In addition to cool measurements and possible gender identification, I'll be finishing up the integrated screening with another donation of my precious blood. About a week or two after that, we'll get back the results, and have an idea if any genetic abnormalities will be popping up.
Since the tendency with the NT scan is toward false positives - meaning the fold measures abnormally high - I'm already feeling pretty good about our odds.
I'm over the queasiness! And I'm starting to get some energy back. Still having shortness of breath, and my blood pressure is still going up - well, the systolic is, at 124 (it was 110 two weeks before getting pregnant); the diastolic is going back to my normal of 65-68. But I'm not as lightheaded. I just feel my heartbeat racing all the time. Very disconcerting.
I am also having problems sitting for long periods of time; my sciatica is flaring up when I do, and my hips and knees ache like mad. We went to see "Where the Wild Things Are" last night (loved it), and for the last half hour, I was in agony. By the time we got home, my entire lower body ached. I slept with a pillow between my knees and just focused on relaxing. When I woke, my pain was gone. So apparently, the hormones that cause your cartilage to soften are working just fine, and I just need to listen to my body... no sitting still for long periods of time.
Otherwise, things are good. Recent bizarre cravings have been: corned beef hash and eggs (seriously, who eats that anymore... besides me); taco shells (no filling, just the shell); and more mustard. Mustard? Can that much mustard possibly be healthy for me?
Will post again... sooner!
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Remiss! Appointment, Mustard, and More
First, the more:
Ivan unsquished the baby! This is a picture from our NT ultrasound done on the 25th September. The baby was aged 11 weeks, 3 days, and was too small to have the screening for Down Syndrome done. So we'll be going back on the 9th October for that. All that really means to us is more free pictures!
Now, the appointment -- I did have a 12-week checkup on 29 September. All my labs were fine and I haven't gained any weight (which means I've lost some "bad" weight because I know I've gained some "good" weight, hurrah!). We were able to hear the heartbeat on the Doppler (remember those stethoscopes with the cone attached to them? So much more sophisticated now) and the doctor said all is well. He did say we have a 1 in 40 chance of having a child with birth defects, but Ivan and I have adopted a largely fatalistic attitude about that--if we do, we do, and there's really nothing we can do to change that right now, so why worry about it? We enjoyed our talk with Dr. Grillo, the second of 5 pediatricians who comprise our birth team. We'll meet the lady docs later, starting at the end of this month. Dr. Grillo was very enthusiastic about cord blood banking and its recent advances in application--which, if we truly do have an infant with congenital heart defects or other correctible issues, could be a lifesaver. Something for us to consider.
On to the mustard! I finally have had a "weird" craving. Yes, it's mustard. I confessed to Ivan the other night that I had to fight an urge to squeeze a healthy (or unhealthy) dollop directly from container into mouth. I did buy some frozen soft pretzels to cover with the stuff so I felt better (and prevented a stomach ache; have you ever eaten a teaspoon of mustard straight? Yick.) about my weirdness. Other than that, I've had what I think of as "food urges" which don't really count as cravings, because they're not outre, they're just stuff I'd like to eat. Things like fried chicken, or chili, or Chinese food--stuff I would normally want but don't indulge in too often because they're not terribly good for me.
And unfortunately, my queasiness is back. And did I mention the fatigue? My blood pressure was a bit higher than normal at my last appointment (although still in the normal range) although no one seems to be worried about it, as a combination of hormones and increased blood volume apparently will do that. But that and the constant tiredness keeps me from feeling quite the thing, particularly after any exertion, mild or otherwise. Very frustrating. My newest trick is getting up in the middle of the night to pee and being too nauseous to get back to sleep but too tired to get up. Marvelous, I must say.
I am trying to commit to more naps, although I feel guilty when I take them, and more small meals, to include salad and other fresh greens. I think both will help me feel a bit more like myself.
Other than that, I am loving tummy time--Ivan and I will snuggle of an evening with his hand on my expanding uterus, just rubbing gently, the both of us basking in the awe and wonder of what we have done. It is good.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Ivan Squished the Baby.
So, we had our Nuchal Translucency appointment on Friday, and I really like the clinic where it's done at, very friendly... and very willing to give us lots of PICTURES! Yay! Unfortunately, we couldn't do the measurements, because my clinic apparently sent over the info that said I was at 12 weeks already, instead of 11 weeks and 3 days. Apparently this makes a really big difference in the size of the baby, and they were unable to complete the testing. *sigh* So we'll get another ultrasound again two weeks from Friday, and hopefully then they'll be able to do the screening for Down Syndrome.
This is just fine with me, as I relish any and all opportunities to stare raptly at the screen and see our baby try to fit his hand in his mouth (couldn't reach) and kick out like a tadpole (couldn't feel it). Active little guy. Had a heartrate of 172 and really, moved around quite a bit. Really fun to see.
And we did walk away with some really good pictures... and therein lies the story.
See, Ivan has this idea that since I get to walk around with the baby ALL the time, he is well within his rights to lay immediate claim to any and all external proof - ie., pictures - of the baby's existence. And thus, directly after the appointment, the pictures were rolled into a tiny scroll and tucked away into his jacket pocket, therein to reside until he succumbed to the desire to unroll said scroll juuuuuust enough to look at the very first picture - a really cute profile shot. I imagine this rolling and unrolling happened several times during the course of the rest of his day at work.
At some point after he got home, I hear a gasp from the bedroom and, poking my head into the room, I saw Ivan holding his scroll in his hand, looking at me with the most woebegone expression I've ever seen him adopt, and subsequently he uttered the line I will remember forever... "I squished the baby!"
Sure enough, the scroll was indeed flat, which meant there were creases across (yep, you guessed it) the middle of each picture.
He was so upset.
So currently, the most recent baby pictures are being pressed under a stack of books in hopes of decompressing the baby. Or at least the images thereof.
The real McCoy seems to be just fine, although he was ravenous today and I feel quite ashamed of my willingness to give in to his appetite. I hope I haven't set an ominous precedent already. As soon as the pictorial McCoy is flattened out, we'll get 'em posted.
In the meantime, I have my 12 week checkup tomorrow which, after the excitement of the NT screening, seems anticlimactic. But I'll happily share anything new upon return home.
This is just fine with me, as I relish any and all opportunities to stare raptly at the screen and see our baby try to fit his hand in his mouth (couldn't reach) and kick out like a tadpole (couldn't feel it). Active little guy. Had a heartrate of 172 and really, moved around quite a bit. Really fun to see.
And we did walk away with some really good pictures... and therein lies the story.
See, Ivan has this idea that since I get to walk around with the baby ALL the time, he is well within his rights to lay immediate claim to any and all external proof - ie., pictures - of the baby's existence. And thus, directly after the appointment, the pictures were rolled into a tiny scroll and tucked away into his jacket pocket, therein to reside until he succumbed to the desire to unroll said scroll juuuuuust enough to look at the very first picture - a really cute profile shot. I imagine this rolling and unrolling happened several times during the course of the rest of his day at work.
At some point after he got home, I hear a gasp from the bedroom and, poking my head into the room, I saw Ivan holding his scroll in his hand, looking at me with the most woebegone expression I've ever seen him adopt, and subsequently he uttered the line I will remember forever... "I squished the baby!"
Sure enough, the scroll was indeed flat, which meant there were creases across (yep, you guessed it) the middle of each picture.
He was so upset.
So currently, the most recent baby pictures are being pressed under a stack of books in hopes of decompressing the baby. Or at least the images thereof.
The real McCoy seems to be just fine, although he was ravenous today and I feel quite ashamed of my willingness to give in to his appetite. I hope I haven't set an ominous precedent already. As soon as the pictorial McCoy is flattened out, we'll get 'em posted.
In the meantime, I have my 12 week checkup tomorrow which, after the excitement of the NT screening, seems anticlimactic. But I'll happily share anything new upon return home.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Halfway Between a Prune and a Lime.
Dear Little Bean,
It's been 10 weeks and 3 days, and already you have changed us irrevocably.
So tiny, and you've given your daddy a new impetus to chase his calling. You've brought a new playfulness to him and a tenderness that undoes me sometimes, when he pats my tummy so gently and with the tiniest of hesitation, not wanting to jar you or hurt you.
You've alternately brought me joy and anxiety, as I obsess about your growth, and alternately fear I've lost you without knowing it. At the same time, I feel more settled, with less of an inclination to sweat the small stuff in the world beyond my uterus. I've lost interest in some of the things that used to sustain me, and I've been really motivated creatively lately. Your dad and I joked about me writing a pregnancy book for dads; I've already started working on it.
Together, we've always been good at talking to each other, bouncing ideas off each other, and supporting each other. Lately, it's just gotten better. I didn't think that was possible. I've been rediscovering how cool the man I married is, and how even cooler he's grown over the past 10 years.
Your big sisters are more aware of me as a person outside their own worlds, albeit some days more than others. They are looking forward to meeting you, and both have expressed the idea that they need to start setting better examples.
The dogs don't seem to care much one way or the other. Sorry, but that's how it goes sometimes.
I'm feeling better every day, and can't wait to take you for walks with the doggies again. It's autumn in Georgia, which means lots of rain, but I bet we find a sunny day or two. They seem to be right on the horizon.
It's been 10 weeks and 3 days, and already you have changed us irrevocably.
So tiny, and you've given your daddy a new impetus to chase his calling. You've brought a new playfulness to him and a tenderness that undoes me sometimes, when he pats my tummy so gently and with the tiniest of hesitation, not wanting to jar you or hurt you.
You've alternately brought me joy and anxiety, as I obsess about your growth, and alternately fear I've lost you without knowing it. At the same time, I feel more settled, with less of an inclination to sweat the small stuff in the world beyond my uterus. I've lost interest in some of the things that used to sustain me, and I've been really motivated creatively lately. Your dad and I joked about me writing a pregnancy book for dads; I've already started working on it.
Together, we've always been good at talking to each other, bouncing ideas off each other, and supporting each other. Lately, it's just gotten better. I didn't think that was possible. I've been rediscovering how cool the man I married is, and how even cooler he's grown over the past 10 years.
Your big sisters are more aware of me as a person outside their own worlds, albeit some days more than others. They are looking forward to meeting you, and both have expressed the idea that they need to start setting better examples.
The dogs don't seem to care much one way or the other. Sorry, but that's how it goes sometimes.
I'm feeling better every day, and can't wait to take you for walks with the doggies again. It's autumn in Georgia, which means lots of rain, but I bet we find a sunny day or two. They seem to be right on the horizon.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Nine And a Half Weeks.
Well, 9 and 5 days truthfully, but that's not nearly as cool a title for a post.
The morning sickness is gone! And in its place is a hunger of immense proportion. I'm really trying not to stuff my face. And could I be craving veggies? Nooooo. I want carbs. Bagels. Pita bread warmed and brushed lightly with olive oil and garlic. Spaghettios, for crying out loud.
In other news, I'm feeling slightly less tired, but now have a head cold. How lovely! I was up all night trying not to wake Ivan with my snifflies and mouth breathing (ick). Somehow I was prepared--I rarely remember to buy Kleenex but for some reason, a few days ago I picked up a box while grocery shopping. So at least I had it to hand when I needed it most.
We get to do the Nuchal Translucency Screening on the 25th! I'm thinking of this as basically a bonus ultrasound. I realize that we're going to be looking for markers for birth defects but I'm not really apprehensive about that. It'll be nice to get a better picture of the little guy.
The morning sickness is gone! And in its place is a hunger of immense proportion. I'm really trying not to stuff my face. And could I be craving veggies? Nooooo. I want carbs. Bagels. Pita bread warmed and brushed lightly with olive oil and garlic. Spaghettios, for crying out loud.
In other news, I'm feeling slightly less tired, but now have a head cold. How lovely! I was up all night trying not to wake Ivan with my snifflies and mouth breathing (ick). Somehow I was prepared--I rarely remember to buy Kleenex but for some reason, a few days ago I picked up a box while grocery shopping. So at least I had it to hand when I needed it most.
We get to do the Nuchal Translucency Screening on the 25th! I'm thinking of this as basically a bonus ultrasound. I realize that we're going to be looking for markers for birth defects but I'm not really apprehensive about that. It'll be nice to get a better picture of the little guy.
Monday, September 7, 2009
My Ass Is Killing Me.
Actually, today it's a lot better, but I told Ivan this would be the title of my next blog post.
I guess it was Saturday night (my days and nights are kinda blurry right now because my sleep schedule is out of whack) that I decided to go downstairs to refill my water. I didn't turn the light on before I started my descent, and I stepped on a dog toy, which promptly rolled out from under me... as did my left foot. I landed on my ass three steps down.
Everything seems to be okay; and since it happened on the weekend, and I don't have cramps or bleeding, and aside from a bruised buttock seem to be fine, I haven't run in a panic to my clinic or the ER. I will call them tomorrow since I already was planning to ask about getting flu shots and if so, which.
I know exactly how lucky I am. I took a header down those steps a few years ago and ended up with a badly sprained ankle and a bruised tailbone. This time wasn't nearly as bad, but it could have been. The precise moment after it happened my stomach flipped in a horribly shocked way and I kept apologizing to Ivan while sobbing my eyes out. It wasn't the pain, it was the thought of something as stupid as a dog toy undoing our months of work. Something as stupid as me not turning on the hall light before going down the steps.
So between that and my vertigo whenever I look down a flight of stairs, I'm now turning on lights and moving very carefully when I descend. And they say you can't teach an old dog new tricks.
Otherwise, the nausea is coming and going, although it's been coming a lot less frequently, which is very nice. The aforementioned fatigue and vertigo are still with me, though. Even though my blood pressure was fine at our visit, I keep getting a thumping in my head and mild dizziness when I go UP the stairs. I understand that this is normal; my body is currently increasing my blood volume so that's going to play havoc with my blood pressure. I just would like it to STOP so I can get back to living.
So apparently you can rent doppler machines that let you hear the baby's heartbeat. How cool is that? There are several different companies available, all with pretty much the same rental agreement terms and fees. I'm kinda kicking around the idea of renting one for Ivan. He's already patting my tummy and grinning fatuously; how much more adorable would he be if he could hear the little guy swimming around in there?
I guess it was Saturday night (my days and nights are kinda blurry right now because my sleep schedule is out of whack) that I decided to go downstairs to refill my water. I didn't turn the light on before I started my descent, and I stepped on a dog toy, which promptly rolled out from under me... as did my left foot. I landed on my ass three steps down.
Everything seems to be okay; and since it happened on the weekend, and I don't have cramps or bleeding, and aside from a bruised buttock seem to be fine, I haven't run in a panic to my clinic or the ER. I will call them tomorrow since I already was planning to ask about getting flu shots and if so, which.
I know exactly how lucky I am. I took a header down those steps a few years ago and ended up with a badly sprained ankle and a bruised tailbone. This time wasn't nearly as bad, but it could have been. The precise moment after it happened my stomach flipped in a horribly shocked way and I kept apologizing to Ivan while sobbing my eyes out. It wasn't the pain, it was the thought of something as stupid as a dog toy undoing our months of work. Something as stupid as me not turning on the hall light before going down the steps.
So between that and my vertigo whenever I look down a flight of stairs, I'm now turning on lights and moving very carefully when I descend. And they say you can't teach an old dog new tricks.
Otherwise, the nausea is coming and going, although it's been coming a lot less frequently, which is very nice. The aforementioned fatigue and vertigo are still with me, though. Even though my blood pressure was fine at our visit, I keep getting a thumping in my head and mild dizziness when I go UP the stairs. I understand that this is normal; my body is currently increasing my blood volume so that's going to play havoc with my blood pressure. I just would like it to STOP so I can get back to living.
So apparently you can rent doppler machines that let you hear the baby's heartbeat. How cool is that? There are several different companies available, all with pretty much the same rental agreement terms and fees. I'm kinda kicking around the idea of renting one for Ivan. He's already patting my tummy and grinning fatuously; how much more adorable would he be if he could hear the little guy swimming around in there?
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Got My Camera Back!
Tell me how this looks... it's my "scanner" for now and I enabled macros so I hope it's not awful...
The Kiddo @ 7w6d
Here's Ivan's shots, definitely superior:
Here's Ivan's shots, definitely superior:
My Current Passion for Cantaloupe is Obscene.
I don't know why it is, but cantaloupe is the one thing I can eat all day, every day, and not once will it make me queasy. There isn't any other food for which I can make that claim.
The actual nausea is getting better; now I just feel hungover. Head is achy and dull, stomach feels nasty. I'm not liking the bloated tummy. Right before I got pregnant, I lost a bit of weight, and my jeans were starting to fall off my hips. Now they're right back snug around my stomach.
Not really complaining, it's just ironic.
I ordered a baby book that Liz recommended and can't wait for that... AND MY CAMERA... to get here.
The actual nausea is getting better; now I just feel hungover. Head is achy and dull, stomach feels nasty. I'm not liking the bloated tummy. Right before I got pregnant, I lost a bit of weight, and my jeans were starting to fall off my hips. Now they're right back snug around my stomach.
Not really complaining, it's just ironic.
I ordered a baby book that Liz recommended and can't wait for that... AND MY CAMERA... to get here.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Not Quite Week 8! Also, We Need A Scanner
We had our first appointment with the OB team today, and we loved it. The office suite is very soothing, the patient room floors are woodgrained, and the doctor we met (Dr. Haberstroh) was a riot. He started out asking us where we were born and teasing us mercilessly.
First item of business was the ultrasound. I was holding my breath while he rooted around looking for the little guy and all of a sudden, there it was! I don't mind admitting I teared up a little bit. Ivan had a great big grin on his face. Dr. H. showed us the heartbeat and then told us that since Ivan was born in California, we had to worry about a congenital defect, and then made the little pinky sign that means "underequipped," which was why we couldn't tell the sex. Ivan wasn't falling for it.
The little guy measured at 1.42 cm, which puts us at 7 weeks, 6 days. I was supposed to be at 8 weeks, 3 days based on when I had my last monthly; but I had already told Ivan that was way too early. By my calculations, we were at 6 weeks and 3-5 days. So if we go off when I know we got pregnant, our little guy is slightly ahead of the growth curve already... which means a nicely thriving fetus. And, I will add, two very relieved parents.
Our new due date is April 13th.
Dr. H. said I looked pretty good for an elderly gal. Yes, it was good for a chuckle. So hard to get used to thinking of myself that way, but we are considered part of the high risk group based solely on my age. He felt that otherwise, blood work not withstanding, I was in fine shape for a healthy pregnancy. He did seem to think a very large baby was possible, based on Kate and Savannah's birth weights (8 and over 9 pounds respectively), and was surprised that I didn't have gestational diabetes with Savannah. My goal is to not have it with this one, either; I'd already changed the way we eat shortly before we got pregnant, so with continued healthy food and hopefully, a return to my walking soon, I should be in good shape for things to come.
We'll have a Nuchal translucency screening in about three weeks to tell us the odds of having a baby with genetic defects.
So... we DO have ultrasound pictures, but we don't have a way to get them into the computer! Ivan's scanner died a little while back and we haven't replaced it. My digital camera is at the Nikon service center getting its USB port replaced. So, much as I would love to share, we can't yet.
As soon as we can, we will! If I can get them away from Ivan, that is... every time I said something about the baby, he'd pick the pictures up again and just grin at them. It's adorable.
First item of business was the ultrasound. I was holding my breath while he rooted around looking for the little guy and all of a sudden, there it was! I don't mind admitting I teared up a little bit. Ivan had a great big grin on his face. Dr. H. showed us the heartbeat and then told us that since Ivan was born in California, we had to worry about a congenital defect, and then made the little pinky sign that means "underequipped," which was why we couldn't tell the sex. Ivan wasn't falling for it.
The little guy measured at 1.42 cm, which puts us at 7 weeks, 6 days. I was supposed to be at 8 weeks, 3 days based on when I had my last monthly; but I had already told Ivan that was way too early. By my calculations, we were at 6 weeks and 3-5 days. So if we go off when I know we got pregnant, our little guy is slightly ahead of the growth curve already... which means a nicely thriving fetus. And, I will add, two very relieved parents.
Our new due date is April 13th.
Dr. H. said I looked pretty good for an elderly gal. Yes, it was good for a chuckle. So hard to get used to thinking of myself that way, but we are considered part of the high risk group based solely on my age. He felt that otherwise, blood work not withstanding, I was in fine shape for a healthy pregnancy. He did seem to think a very large baby was possible, based on Kate and Savannah's birth weights (8 and over 9 pounds respectively), and was surprised that I didn't have gestational diabetes with Savannah. My goal is to not have it with this one, either; I'd already changed the way we eat shortly before we got pregnant, so with continued healthy food and hopefully, a return to my walking soon, I should be in good shape for things to come.
We'll have a Nuchal translucency screening in about three weeks to tell us the odds of having a baby with genetic defects.
So... we DO have ultrasound pictures, but we don't have a way to get them into the computer! Ivan's scanner died a little while back and we haven't replaced it. My digital camera is at the Nikon service center getting its USB port replaced. So, much as I would love to share, we can't yet.
As soon as we can, we will! If I can get them away from Ivan, that is... every time I said something about the baby, he'd pick the pictures up again and just grin at them. It's adorable.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Week 8
Peanut butter is the most amazing substance on earth. It's a protein, and it can be put on anything, and it doesn't make me nauseous.
I'm staying awake for longer periods now, which is nice. Except I tend to try to get too much done and that wears me out, which isn't nice.
My stomach is kinda squishy; research indicates that this is normal. I'm mildly frustrated that you can't tell I had worked hard to lose some weight just prior to getting pregnant, but I will adapt.
I miss coffee with a longing that is almost physical. In a 2008 study, data suggested that caffeine intake increased the risk of miscarriage, so I'm taking no chances.
Savannah turned 18 on Saturday. Kinda surreal; being pregnant with my grown children in attendance. They're having a great time. They've both been really solicitous. I'm hoping I can parlay this into housekeeping.
Our first appointment is tomorrow.
I'm staying awake for longer periods now, which is nice. Except I tend to try to get too much done and that wears me out, which isn't nice.
My stomach is kinda squishy; research indicates that this is normal. I'm mildly frustrated that you can't tell I had worked hard to lose some weight just prior to getting pregnant, but I will adapt.
I miss coffee with a longing that is almost physical. In a 2008 study, data suggested that caffeine intake increased the risk of miscarriage, so I'm taking no chances.
Savannah turned 18 on Saturday. Kinda surreal; being pregnant with my grown children in attendance. They're having a great time. They've both been really solicitous. I'm hoping I can parlay this into housekeeping.
Our first appointment is tomorrow.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Week 7
Last week, morning sickness hit with a vengeance. Also, regular sickness hit with a vengeance, and the two together were incredibly debilitating. The dogs haven't been for a walk since Thursday. My bathroom has dust in it (the bathroom? Really?) and I know I need to stop and just rest so I can recover, but the kids always seem to need me right when I'm about to take a nap. I've discovered that driving, of all things, wears me out incredibly. And that is, of course, what teenagers without their own vehicles need most.
I'm working on strategies for dealing with constant, low-grade nausea. I remember the naive and callous days of my first pregnancies when I scoffed at the idea that a little nausea could be so exhausting. I had lots of respect for mothers-to-be who were projectile vomiting, but anyone can deal with just being nauseated.
Ah, youth. I am well served for my veiled contempt of yore. The moment anything touches my stomach (like, say, saliva), the nausea begins. And of course, I'm always thirsty when I wake up. At least I can eat... sometimes. But I have to eat when I am ready or I won't get to; I wanted some BBQ from a local restaurant and was coyly trying to get Ivan to pick it up; he suggested he come home and pick me up so we could make our choices together instead of over the phone. By the time we made the round trip and served ourselves... I couldn't eat. He was crestfallen. It made, however, an excellent breakfast.
I've found myself trying to get as much down as I can before the nausea calls a sudden halt to ingestion. Navy boot camp mess hall practices serve me well.
So now I have my jello powder, two teaspoons to a glass of ice cold water, which I sip while cooking breakfast for us both. It doesn't seem that spices bother me; we have a turkey vegetable egg-white omelet and whole grain English muffin every morning, and all of those components are compatible and appetizing. Most mornings. I don't seem to have a lot of heartburn (yet) although I do have two-Tums nights occasionally.
The girls are excited; Savannah tells everyone we meet together ("Hi, Mrs. Webb. You remember my mom. She's pregnant.") and Kate has plans for wall decorations and baby books and clothes shopping. I have been researching car seats and diapering options; I'm pretty certain I want to go with cloth this time, given our personal ecological ethics, although there are some biodegradable options that are attractive. But I haven't let myself do too much planning, because I don't want to jinx us. I know, that's silly.
Ivan and I are both worried, although about different things. My nightmares are about trying to decide whether we should carry a Trisomy baby to term; his are about waking up finding me hemorrhaging to death in our bed and losing both of us at once.
We are some seriously grim people.
I'm working on strategies for dealing with constant, low-grade nausea. I remember the naive and callous days of my first pregnancies when I scoffed at the idea that a little nausea could be so exhausting. I had lots of respect for mothers-to-be who were projectile vomiting, but anyone can deal with just being nauseated.
Ah, youth. I am well served for my veiled contempt of yore. The moment anything touches my stomach (like, say, saliva), the nausea begins. And of course, I'm always thirsty when I wake up. At least I can eat... sometimes. But I have to eat when I am ready or I won't get to; I wanted some BBQ from a local restaurant and was coyly trying to get Ivan to pick it up; he suggested he come home and pick me up so we could make our choices together instead of over the phone. By the time we made the round trip and served ourselves... I couldn't eat. He was crestfallen. It made, however, an excellent breakfast.
I've found myself trying to get as much down as I can before the nausea calls a sudden halt to ingestion. Navy boot camp mess hall practices serve me well.
So now I have my jello powder, two teaspoons to a glass of ice cold water, which I sip while cooking breakfast for us both. It doesn't seem that spices bother me; we have a turkey vegetable egg-white omelet and whole grain English muffin every morning, and all of those components are compatible and appetizing. Most mornings. I don't seem to have a lot of heartburn (yet) although I do have two-Tums nights occasionally.
The girls are excited; Savannah tells everyone we meet together ("Hi, Mrs. Webb. You remember my mom. She's pregnant.") and Kate has plans for wall decorations and baby books and clothes shopping. I have been researching car seats and diapering options; I'm pretty certain I want to go with cloth this time, given our personal ecological ethics, although there are some biodegradable options that are attractive. But I haven't let myself do too much planning, because I don't want to jinx us. I know, that's silly.
Ivan and I are both worried, although about different things. My nightmares are about trying to decide whether we should carry a Trisomy baby to term; his are about waking up finding me hemorrhaging to death in our bed and losing both of us at once.
We are some seriously grim people.
Alive! (Reposted)
So, I was prematurely happy to be well again... because for the past week I have been fighting dehydration and running a fever. I apparently picked up a nasty virus and it lodged itself in my head and chest. My "wellness" apparently was a result of sleeping so much, and as soon as I tried to go back to my normal schedule, the virus came roaring back.
So I got cleared for Tylenol and have found half a dozen new things to add to water to make it easier to go down and stay down. Everything stays down better when I am staying down, unfortunately. I have not been able to look at anything (including a TV) unless I am horizontal or I become indisposed (so to speak).
But now at least I can sit up now for longer periods of time and my kids and of course, The Best Husband In The World, are helping me a lot.
And as of yesterday's pee test and with no symptoms to indicate otherwise, I'm still pregnant, so that's the best news!
I'm still recovering, though. I have 352 (not exaggerating) emails to get through in addition to getting caught up here and I can only be online for 20-30 minutes at a time right now before I get nauseous and lightheaded so please bear with me.
Thank you all for being here.
So I got cleared for Tylenol and have found half a dozen new things to add to water to make it easier to go down and stay down. Everything stays down better when I am staying down, unfortunately. I have not been able to look at anything (including a TV) unless I am horizontal or I become indisposed (so to speak).
But now at least I can sit up now for longer periods of time and my kids and of course, The Best Husband In The World, are helping me a lot.
And as of yesterday's pee test and with no symptoms to indicate otherwise, I'm still pregnant, so that's the best news!
I'm still recovering, though. I have 352 (not exaggerating) emails to get through in addition to getting caught up here and I can only be online for 20-30 minutes at a time right now before I get nauseous and lightheaded so please bear with me.
Thank you all for being here.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Confirmed!
It hasn't hit me yet, but my doctor confirmed it today--we are pregnant. She wants me to see an OB because at 39, I am a high risk pregnancy, but she said my caloric intake should be just fine for supplying both me and the baby and that I could do my interval run-walk miles with the dogs. She even gave me some exercises to do for my big toes! And those same exercises will apparently help do away with my shin splints. So I can have my baby and my new healthy lifestyle too!!!
Okay, now I'm teary, finally... hahaha... I guess I just had to type it out and make it real...
A bit overwhelmed, so Reds, please forgive me--I can't focus on points today. I'll be back tomorrow with a vengeance and a plan and a new source of motivation. Right now, I just need food and a snuggle with my husband and to go to bed early.
I'm pregnant... I really am.
Okay, now I'm teary, finally... hahaha... I guess I just had to type it out and make it real...
A bit overwhelmed, so Reds, please forgive me--I can't focus on points today. I'll be back tomorrow with a vengeance and a plan and a new source of motivation. Right now, I just need food and a snuggle with my husband and to go to bed early.
I'm pregnant... I really am.
The Circle of Life (Reposted)
It is really interesting how things happen.
In a house full of chaos alternating between the joyful welcome of my house guest and good friend Daniel, and the shock and grief of losing Sonia, I missed my period.
At first I chalked it up to stress and the change in lifestyle (eating better, working out as close to daily as possible). But when someone lit up a cigarette at the viewing and I wanted to hurl, I kinda started to put it together.
I stopped by the drugstore on the way home. Ten minutes and two little pink lines later, I had my answer.
Tomorrow I go to the doctor for the official answer.
I can't help but think that Sonia was my age when she found out she was pregnant with her youngest.
I'm a bit scared, kinda waiting to be elated until I see the doctor. I know I won't breathe easily until I see an ultrasound.
And it doesn't feel right just yet to celebrate, even though I know Sonia would have wanted me to.
I think I'll go for a walk.
In a house full of chaos alternating between the joyful welcome of my house guest and good friend Daniel, and the shock and grief of losing Sonia, I missed my period.
At first I chalked it up to stress and the change in lifestyle (eating better, working out as close to daily as possible). But when someone lit up a cigarette at the viewing and I wanted to hurl, I kinda started to put it together.
I stopped by the drugstore on the way home. Ten minutes and two little pink lines later, I had my answer.
Tomorrow I go to the doctor for the official answer.
I can't help but think that Sonia was my age when she found out she was pregnant with her youngest.
I'm a bit scared, kinda waiting to be elated until I see the doctor. I know I won't breathe easily until I see an ultrasound.
And it doesn't feel right just yet to celebrate, even though I know Sonia would have wanted me to.
I think I'll go for a walk.
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