Love, Sad Mickey
Monday, October 30, 2006
Update
I must say, the doctor's appointments have been going decently the last couple of weeks. No new surprises, and tests last week showed that there is no longer baby's blood in mine, so if there was a hemorrhage, it's likely now stopped. We also get to skip a week of sonogram because the blood-flow readings went down as well, hooray!
At my second appointment last week, I did find out that I'll get a physical exam TWICE a week, instead of just once, which I thought was bad enough. Me and that car-jack, we're going to get real friendly. My Doc also told me subtly, because he doesn't say these things directly, that my belly is humongous and that I'll be lucky to make it to Thanksgiving, a month before my due date! As my co-worker suggested, I'll be crossing my legs for the next month.
We did find out that our daughter is already an overachiever. She's huge for her age - over 5 pounds at 32 weeks, when babies normally aren't quite 4. She's also a bit of a prankster - during the fetal stress tests she plays hide-and-seek with the nurse when she's trying to find the heartbeat. It took the nurse 15 minutes today to set it up because every time she'd locate the heartbeat, Little Miss would swim away.
Oh, and there's this.
Really, from our last sonogram - Jane can vouch for authenticity, as she was kind enough to scan it for me. Little Miss says give peace a chance, man.
At my second appointment last week, I did find out that I'll get a physical exam TWICE a week, instead of just once, which I thought was bad enough. Me and that car-jack, we're going to get real friendly. My Doc also told me subtly, because he doesn't say these things directly, that my belly is humongous and that I'll be lucky to make it to Thanksgiving, a month before my due date! As my co-worker suggested, I'll be crossing my legs for the next month.
We did find out that our daughter is already an overachiever. She's huge for her age - over 5 pounds at 32 weeks, when babies normally aren't quite 4. She's also a bit of a prankster - during the fetal stress tests she plays hide-and-seek with the nurse when she's trying to find the heartbeat. It took the nurse 15 minutes today to set it up because every time she'd locate the heartbeat, Little Miss would swim away.
Oh, and there's this.
Really, from our last sonogram - Jane can vouch for authenticity, as she was kind enough to scan it for me. Little Miss says give peace a chance, man.
A Little Note about Little Hands
Some nights when I lay down with the Little Man to settle him for bed, he puts his little hand up to my cheek, sighs, and says "Mom, I wuv you", or takes a hold of my hand and says "Mommy, can I talk a you?" It makes his mom's heart melt. His little hands are perfect - never dry, but not sweaty, just slightly damp, gentle little boy hands that manage to smell like corn dog and soap and banana and fishing reel oil all at the same time. Those little boy hands, I love them.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Pregnancy Side Effects
I'm just into my 31st week of pregnancy and unfortunately most of the related side-effects are already in full-swing. Insomnia? Check. Heartburn? Check. Wild mood swings? Check. The pregnancy waddle (coupled with the general maneuverability of a whale)? Oh hell yeah. Oh, and I almost forgot, forgetfulness. Check that one too.
Friday we had our carpet cleaned because it really needed to happen (and I think the nesting phase is starting too). The guy was super nice and did a great job on our house, even with all the stairs (we have a split-level). So, the cleaning guy and Mr. Me told me about 154 times to be careful because the stairs were wet. And now you can totally see where this is going, right?
Pregnancy Clumsiness hit just as Cleaner Guy and Mr. Me called me out for final carpet inspection. I slipped on the first stair and glided with all the grace of a listing blimp (color commentary provided lovingly by my husband) to land on my rump on the bottom stair. I had, trying to be careful and all, kept a firm grip on the banister and it pulled my shoulder out of socket. I have thrown my right shoulder out periodically since eighth-grade basketball, so this isn't a new thing for me, but I still screamed like some creature out of Alien (again, with the color commentary) because it. hurts. like. a. motherfucker.
Those poor men. They were as white as ghosts - even the black Cleaner Guy. He was on my right side and tried to pull me up by my arm which earned him another alien-like scream (and I almost passed out). Mr. Me, thankfully, has helped my put my shoulder back in before, so they traded sides and he helped me manipulate it to the banister so I could put it back in. (Tip: if you ever throw your shoulder out, find the nearest wall/other vertical surface and slowly walk your index and middle fingers up it as far as you can reach - puts it back in place every time).
They took me outside and hovered over me for a while, which was very sweet. Mr. Me actually wouldn't let me re-enter the house and finished packing everything for our weekend trip himself. Thankfully, Little Miss started kicking really softly right after I landed, which I interpreted at the time as her way of asking if I was ok and telling me she was there. (but it may have been more of a "yo, cut it out with the adrenaline rushes, babe)
So, now we can add Various Aching Parts over 90% of the Body, and Clumsy to the list. Check, and check.
Friday we had our carpet cleaned because it really needed to happen (and I think the nesting phase is starting too). The guy was super nice and did a great job on our house, even with all the stairs (we have a split-level). So, the cleaning guy and Mr. Me told me about 154 times to be careful because the stairs were wet. And now you can totally see where this is going, right?
Pregnancy Clumsiness hit just as Cleaner Guy and Mr. Me called me out for final carpet inspection. I slipped on the first stair and glided with all the grace of a listing blimp (color commentary provided lovingly by my husband) to land on my rump on the bottom stair. I had, trying to be careful and all, kept a firm grip on the banister and it pulled my shoulder out of socket. I have thrown my right shoulder out periodically since eighth-grade basketball, so this isn't a new thing for me, but I still screamed like some creature out of Alien (again, with the color commentary) because it. hurts. like. a. motherfucker.
Those poor men. They were as white as ghosts - even the black Cleaner Guy. He was on my right side and tried to pull me up by my arm which earned him another alien-like scream (and I almost passed out). Mr. Me, thankfully, has helped my put my shoulder back in before, so they traded sides and he helped me manipulate it to the banister so I could put it back in. (Tip: if you ever throw your shoulder out, find the nearest wall/other vertical surface and slowly walk your index and middle fingers up it as far as you can reach - puts it back in place every time).
They took me outside and hovered over me for a while, which was very sweet. Mr. Me actually wouldn't let me re-enter the house and finished packing everything for our weekend trip himself. Thankfully, Little Miss started kicking really softly right after I landed, which I interpreted at the time as her way of asking if I was ok and telling me she was there. (but it may have been more of a "yo, cut it out with the adrenaline rushes, babe)
So, now we can add Various Aching Parts over 90% of the Body, and Clumsy to the list. Check, and check.
Doctors-'O-Rama
I am now looking forward to two fun-filled months of thrice-weekly doctor appointments, yee-flippin'-haw. For your entertainment and amusement (and in case you care) here's nauseating detail of my schedule .
On Mondays I have my weekly appointment with my OB, at which I have alarmingly learned that we will be doing a physical exam EVERY WEEK, complete with a date with the Vaginal Car Jack (yeah, you know what I'm talking about). For those of you who haven't tried this whole Having a Child thing, this isn't normal. Normal weekly appointments consist of a few questions, blood pressure, measurements, poke on the belly, then you're gone. This, it sucks.
We will also do a fetal non-stress test at that visit as well, where they hook you up with monitors and you lay around and listen to the baby's heart beat and movements and watch contractions on a line graph for a while.
The second appointment is another fetal non-stress test on Thursdays. These are actually not so bad except that they're time consuming. The Little Miss is a mover and a shaker and at my last appointment I was laying in there for over 20 minutes because they kept having to reset the monitors to keep a bead on her heartbeat.
On Fridays, it's a Level-2 sonogram with the specialist OB group across town. They're keeping an eye on my fluid levels - which they charmingly referred to the baby's "olympic-size swimming pool" last week - and her bloodflow levels for the anemia. They don't think she's acting anemic, but are still keeping an eye on it because her numbers are going up and are now just under the scary "really anemic" line. Eh.
Can I just say, thank God for good insurance? We got the bill for the first sonogram and, well, damn. This is just prenatal care - can't wait for those surgical bills. You know they're impressive when your OB tells you to take your checkbook.
On Mondays I have my weekly appointment with my OB, at which I have alarmingly learned that we will be doing a physical exam EVERY WEEK, complete with a date with the Vaginal Car Jack (yeah, you know what I'm talking about). For those of you who haven't tried this whole Having a Child thing, this isn't normal. Normal weekly appointments consist of a few questions, blood pressure, measurements, poke on the belly, then you're gone. This, it sucks.
We will also do a fetal non-stress test at that visit as well, where they hook you up with monitors and you lay around and listen to the baby's heart beat and movements and watch contractions on a line graph for a while.
The second appointment is another fetal non-stress test on Thursdays. These are actually not so bad except that they're time consuming. The Little Miss is a mover and a shaker and at my last appointment I was laying in there for over 20 minutes because they kept having to reset the monitors to keep a bead on her heartbeat.
On Fridays, it's a Level-2 sonogram with the specialist OB group across town. They're keeping an eye on my fluid levels - which they charmingly referred to the baby's "olympic-size swimming pool" last week - and her bloodflow levels for the anemia. They don't think she's acting anemic, but are still keeping an eye on it because her numbers are going up and are now just under the scary "really anemic" line. Eh.
Can I just say, thank God for good insurance? We got the bill for the first sonogram and, well, damn. This is just prenatal care - can't wait for those surgical bills. You know they're impressive when your OB tells you to take your checkbook.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Friday the 13th Doesn't Scare Me!
Today was Friday the 13th. We had multiple Doctor Appointments today. Given our recent medical luck on days that aren't superstitiously charged, can you blame me for being nervous when I awoke this morning?
I must say, though, my nervousness was unwarranted. After today I'm not quite so superstitious any more. It wasn't necessarily an awesome day, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been, so I'm calling that a win.
Firstly, I only have ugly bruises in 2 of the 6 spots that the lady in the lab stuck me in on Wednesday. She normally bruises me with every stick, so I figured I'd look like I'd been beaten by someone who hates arms this morning, but she must have had a good day. Or a miracle occurred. Either way, I only have the WT bruises on my right arm and hand, which works for me.
Secondly, we got lab results back and I don't have gestational diabetes. Thus, I don't have to stick myself with a needle 3 times a day and avoid pie, THANK THE LORD. This baby, she loves the pie.
Thirdly, the re-do of the results-never-come-back-positive-on-this-blood-test test was positive again, but with lower levels than the first test, which is a good thing.
Fourthly (can there be a fourthly?), we had a great meeting with the neonatologist. He was awesome (awesome enough that I got over the scary '70s porn-'stache thing that he had going on within the first few minutes). He took all the information we had, laid it out very clearly about what was being treated and why for all of our issues, and what some of the treatments for complications would be. He also explained very clearly what the baby's treatment would be after delivery and how the surgery would work, and offered to set up a meeting with the surgeon and a tour of the neonatal part of the hospital where the surgery would take place. AND offered to answer any questions we might have at any time. Actually told us to KEEP his number, and call if we got more information and needed to discuss it. He talked with Mr. Me and I for over an hour, just consulting. He was a peach.
Unfortunately, the fun stops there. The ass-master doc who oversaw the sono did confirm (as much as he'd "confirm" anything) that Little Miss has mild anemia. This means weekly Level-2 sonograms to monitor it and see if it gets better or worse. (And, a nice game of Russian roulette as to whether we have to see the ass-master doc or get one of the nice ones, because we have to see whoever is staffing the sono unit that day). It also may mean that, depending on the severity of the anemia, even if she doesn't have to have an in-utero transfusion, she may need a transfusion after she's born. The thought of someone else's blood trucking around my teeny baby's body is NOT so appealing, but I guess whatever they have to do to make her healthy will have to be fine by me.
All in all, Friday the 13th has lost its hold over me. It only brought what has come to be "normal" news around our house, scary enough, but not too terrifying.
Note: Jane's comment brought to mind a funny comment that the doctor made. I asked about using blood donated from someone we chose - it's called directed donation - and he said it was possible if we had 3 or 4 days for processing by the blood bank. He basically warned us to be careful what we asked for, because apparently many people find out about skeletons in the closets of family and friends when they don't pass the blood center screening. As I know Jane has earned over her gallon pin for donation, I'm sure her blood-related skeletons are well under control, but it just made me chuckle wondering news some people found out . . .
I must say, though, my nervousness was unwarranted. After today I'm not quite so superstitious any more. It wasn't necessarily an awesome day, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been, so I'm calling that a win.
Firstly, I only have ugly bruises in 2 of the 6 spots that the lady in the lab stuck me in on Wednesday. She normally bruises me with every stick, so I figured I'd look like I'd been beaten by someone who hates arms this morning, but she must have had a good day. Or a miracle occurred. Either way, I only have the WT bruises on my right arm and hand, which works for me.
Secondly, we got lab results back and I don't have gestational diabetes. Thus, I don't have to stick myself with a needle 3 times a day and avoid pie, THANK THE LORD. This baby, she loves the pie.
Thirdly, the re-do of the results-never-come-back-positive-on-this-blood-test test was positive again, but with lower levels than the first test, which is a good thing.
Fourthly (can there be a fourthly?), we had a great meeting with the neonatologist. He was awesome (awesome enough that I got over the scary '70s porn-'stache thing that he had going on within the first few minutes). He took all the information we had, laid it out very clearly about what was being treated and why for all of our issues, and what some of the treatments for complications would be. He also explained very clearly what the baby's treatment would be after delivery and how the surgery would work, and offered to set up a meeting with the surgeon and a tour of the neonatal part of the hospital where the surgery would take place. AND offered to answer any questions we might have at any time. Actually told us to KEEP his number, and call if we got more information and needed to discuss it. He talked with Mr. Me and I for over an hour, just consulting. He was a peach.
Unfortunately, the fun stops there. The ass-master doc who oversaw the sono did confirm (as much as he'd "confirm" anything) that Little Miss has mild anemia. This means weekly Level-2 sonograms to monitor it and see if it gets better or worse. (And, a nice game of Russian roulette as to whether we have to see the ass-master doc or get one of the nice ones, because we have to see whoever is staffing the sono unit that day). It also may mean that, depending on the severity of the anemia, even if she doesn't have to have an in-utero transfusion, she may need a transfusion after she's born. The thought of someone else's blood trucking around my teeny baby's body is NOT so appealing, but I guess whatever they have to do to make her healthy will have to be fine by me.
All in all, Friday the 13th has lost its hold over me. It only brought what has come to be "normal" news around our house, scary enough, but not too terrifying.
Note: Jane's comment brought to mind a funny comment that the doctor made. I asked about using blood donated from someone we chose - it's called directed donation - and he said it was possible if we had 3 or 4 days for processing by the blood bank. He basically warned us to be careful what we asked for, because apparently many people find out about skeletons in the closets of family and friends when they don't pass the blood center screening. As I know Jane has earned over her gallon pin for donation, I'm sure her blood-related skeletons are well under control, but it just made me chuckle wondering news some people found out . . .
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
And, There's More
Went to the Doc again today and he had more fun news. One of the "just in case" tests that I've been volunteering as a human pincushion to take came back positive. This is a test that is uncommon enough that the lab technicians couldn't even pronounce it. It's negative NINETY PERCENT 0f the time - the Doc actually had the lab repeat it, then had me go in for a second test to confirm. The result basically means that the baby's blood has seeped into my bloodstream, indicating some level of hemorrhage (fetomaternal transfusion causing fetal anemia, to those playing the "learn a new medical term" home game). So, on top of everything else, the baby may be anemic and may require a blood transfusion IN UTERO.
ARRRGGGGHHHHHHHHH!
So, more worry and angst, and more TESTS. I have FIVE doctor's appointments and tests scheduled in the next couple of weeks. That's after the two tests and appointment I had today. I'm grateful for my awesome doctor and the level of care I'm getting, but yowza, I wish I didn't need all these tests! I've been stuck with a needle 6 times today. Enough already!
He also measured my belly today and I'm measuring the size of someone at 36 weeks, even though I'm only at 30. No wonder I feel as big as a barn - I AM!
This little girl is either going to be a perfect angel after she's born, or God's just preparing us for many more years of worrying about our little hell raiser. Damn.
ARRRGGGGHHHHHHHHH!
So, more worry and angst, and more TESTS. I have FIVE doctor's appointments and tests scheduled in the next couple of weeks. That's after the two tests and appointment I had today. I'm grateful for my awesome doctor and the level of care I'm getting, but yowza, I wish I didn't need all these tests! I've been stuck with a needle 6 times today. Enough already!
He also measured my belly today and I'm measuring the size of someone at 36 weeks, even though I'm only at 30. No wonder I feel as big as a barn - I AM!
This little girl is either going to be a perfect angel after she's born, or God's just preparing us for many more years of worrying about our little hell raiser. Damn.
Sunday, October 08, 2006
State of Mind
I'm feeling better, thanks to all of you for all your kind comments and concern. It's taken a bit, but I'm not quite as shaky as I was. I'm at least able to think about and actually talk about the medical issues without breaking down. A few people have come back with positive stories about friend-of-a-friends, which have helped too (though, honestly, one little pessimistic voice in the back of my head wonders if that makes our odds worse...). I do get insanely pissed off when I have talked to the few people who seem to think "it's no big deal," But mostly everyone has been lovely and supportive.
We've been doing quite a bit of research, both online and by talking to doctors. I'm the type that has to know everything I possibly can before making big decisions, so it's soothing to find every new nugget we can, even though sometimes they're unpleasant. I think we've settled on a delivery hospital and transferring the baby for surgery, but I still need to talk to the neonatologist and surgical office before we make the final decisions.
I've now become a human lab rat-my wonderful doctor is being overly cautious, so I'm scheduled for tests upon tests upon appointments upon tests. I think there will be a permanent bruise on my arm from the vampires in the lab.
I am noticing the effects of the polyhydramnios because I don't recall the 7th month of my last pregnancy being nearly this arduous. Oh, and I feel as big as a barn already - which means I'll maybe feel like an airplane hanger before this is all done with? I'm carrying the Little Miss differently than I did the Little Man, but that can't be the reason that a 45-minute walk can put me down for the rest of the day, if not an entire weekend. Or that I'm already having to sleep with 5-6 pillows at night to support all the various aching body parts. I was looking forward to those lovely perks to start in a month or so, instead of now.
Damn, pregnancy is fun!
We've been doing quite a bit of research, both online and by talking to doctors. I'm the type that has to know everything I possibly can before making big decisions, so it's soothing to find every new nugget we can, even though sometimes they're unpleasant. I think we've settled on a delivery hospital and transferring the baby for surgery, but I still need to talk to the neonatologist and surgical office before we make the final decisions.
I've now become a human lab rat-my wonderful doctor is being overly cautious, so I'm scheduled for tests upon tests upon appointments upon tests. I think there will be a permanent bruise on my arm from the vampires in the lab.
I am noticing the effects of the polyhydramnios because I don't recall the 7th month of my last pregnancy being nearly this arduous. Oh, and I feel as big as a barn already - which means I'll maybe feel like an airplane hanger before this is all done with? I'm carrying the Little Miss differently than I did the Little Man, but that can't be the reason that a 45-minute walk can put me down for the rest of the day, if not an entire weekend. Or that I'm already having to sleep with 5-6 pillows at night to support all the various aching body parts. I was looking forward to those lovely perks to start in a month or so, instead of now.
Damn, pregnancy is fun!
Friday, October 06, 2006
Boy's Got Taste
The Little Man and I were driving down the road the other day and, though the radio was on, I started to try to sing John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt to him. As per the norm, 4-5 words into the song he says "Mom, stop it! Stop singing!". Since he was in the back seat, at least I was saved the requisite attempt to hit me in the mouth.
I stopped trying to entertain my hostile audience, and noticed that The Roof is on Fire by the Bloodhound Gang was playing on the radio. So we drove along, enjoying the song, and I start hearing "The roof, the roof, the roof on fire" coming from the back seat. The best part was that the rearview showed him head banging along with the beat. We sang along with the chorus the rest of the song, and may I just say Thank You FCC for the bleeping of "motherfucker," 'cause THAT would have gone over well at daycare.
He still sings it sometimes, all the while head banging to the beat in his head, but the roof is now under water instead of on fire. I have no idea why, but whatever works for him, it's damn funny either way.
I stopped trying to entertain my hostile audience, and noticed that The Roof is on Fire by the Bloodhound Gang was playing on the radio. So we drove along, enjoying the song, and I start hearing "The roof, the roof, the roof on fire" coming from the back seat. The best part was that the rearview showed him head banging along with the beat. We sang along with the chorus the rest of the song, and may I just say Thank You FCC for the bleeping of "motherfucker," 'cause THAT would have gone over well at daycare.
He still sings it sometimes, all the while head banging to the beat in his head, but the roof is now under water instead of on fire. I have no idea why, but whatever works for him, it's damn funny either way.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
I Fix It
Today was the first day we've had the Little Man home for a while, and it was a good day. My mental state has stabailzed somewhat - at least my face is no longer randomly leaking - and it was nice to have him running around the house again (my wonderful parents had him for much of last week after we got the news).
He and I were rocking and talking before his nap this afternoon, and he had slowed his normal pace and was being cuddly and sweet. He had been complaining about his head being 'broken' the moment before, so I kissed it and he said "Thanks, Mom, it's fixed".
He started tracing my eyebrows and forehead with his finger and said "Mom, you head broken too?" When I told him yes, I thought it was, he said "It's ok Mom. I fix it."
I like his confidence. I bet he actually can.
He and I were rocking and talking before his nap this afternoon, and he had slowed his normal pace and was being cuddly and sweet. He had been complaining about his head being 'broken' the moment before, so I kissed it and he said "Thanks, Mom, it's fixed".
He started tracing my eyebrows and forehead with his finger and said "Mom, you head broken too?" When I told him yes, I thought it was, he said "It's ok Mom. I fix it."
I like his confidence. I bet he actually can.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
