Revenge of the baby, part one.

Young Imri got his first shot Friday. It was traumatic for both mom and baby ... baby has probably forgotten already but the sudden look of pain on an otherwise happy baby's face will be engraved upon my memory forever. I'm not sure who cried more.

Other than that, he is doing well. His weight is now 9lbs 14oz and he has nearly gained 2 inches in height. He is still relatively small - between 25 and 50th percentile but that's better than the 10th percentile he was in. Besides, I'm not so hung up about numbers, truthfully. He's thriving and that's all that matters. I even got my first sort-of smile/giggle today, which brought me to tears. Of course. I cry over everything, especially the good stuff.

After the shot, he slept most of the afternoon away (interdispersed by much eating, only come evening to be attacked by a bad case of the gassies. I had already figured that it would be a rough night considering how deeply he had slept - and I was right - bad bad gas, compounded by being bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and ready for play at 10-11pm. No amount of hushing, lullabye-ing or rocking made him any sleepier. I passed him off to Dad, which prompted much wailing until I realized he wanted to eat. Again. At least it helped him pass the gas somewhat. Poor little guy. It wasn't a fun night for Mom or Baby. We got a brief bout of sleep from 12-3, then waking on the hour every hour to eat. I kid you not.

Fast forward to Saturday where we hear many farts but no bowel movements, at least not since Friday afternoon, unusual for he who craps frequently. I figured something was brewing even though he was in a better mood. Sure enough, this afternoon during a leisurely feed I suddenly looked down at my infant son and proclaimed loudly "What the HELL is that??". Simply put ... the boy stank. I mean ... he reeked.
Now I am definitely wanting my money back because Drs Sears et al have proclaimed throughout the baby-rearing kingdom, that breastfed babies crap DOES NOT SMELL. Or at least, not as badly as formula fed babies. If this is just the beginning ... my GODS, are we in for a treat as things move forward.

Anyway, I took the smiling stinker upstairs for a change, only to realize that it was a huge blowout ... poop all up his back and everything. I was right - he had been saving up.
I got him cleaned up pretty well and he was lying there half starkers, looking at me and gurgling. Then he started to cry and I leaned over him to comfort him/pick him up ... which is when the ambush hit! Pee cascaded all down the front of my sweat top, on the changing table (which I had just cleansed of poop)and on the brand new carpet. Imri gurgled contentedly. His nefarious scheme had succeeded! I couldn't help but burst out laughing and in doing so ... well, let's just say that all my Kegel-doing in the world didn't help. OOps! I then hauled his stinky self to the sink for a mini-bath. Mind you, I just changed my shirt ... I definitely need a shower over here. Definitely. Hopefully I'll find time eventually. Yeah.

I'm waiting to see what he has planned in retaliation for next month's shots. Stay tuned.













I'm ready for my close-up, Mr DeMille ... come just a little closer ...

I hope you dance

I am typing slowly as a certain young man is sleeping peacefully on my chest. We decided that a musical interlude was called for as he's been fussy - yesterday we ended up at the doc's because of a terrible sore stomach and gas, most likely indigestion caused by yours truly, the bad mommy who ate orange chicken without thinking too much about it. Oops.

So, I put on an old CD of mine from Israel called הכבש הששה עשר or for those without Hebrew font or knowledge, "The Sixteenth Sheep", a children's album put out some time ago by some famous Israeli singers/songwriters. It's absolutely wonderful and clever, both lyrically as well as musically. When it came out in Israel, it made big waves and several of the songs were on top 100 lists - but that's Israel for you. Speaking of which, I know I have readers from Israel ... any baby music recommendations? And that's not just directed at the Israelis amongst you, btw.

So Imri and I danced to the music - he listened intently to the music and my singing, his bright eyes looking at me, at the light in the room, at everything until he drifted asleep in my arms. And I started to cry ... a fleeting memory to carry with me forever, my infant son slowly falling asleep in my arms as we dance.

My sweet sweet Imri. This feeling is something well and truly beyond happiness, beautiful boy. I love you so much.

Hey, I'm we're still here

Actually, I'm rejoicing in the 6 whole hours of sleep I got last night! No, not in a row ... you must have forgotten what it's like having a 3 week old ... but for the first time in a while, he ate well (I am breastfeeding him)and slept for 2-3 hours at a stretch, then awoke to eat - and sleep - some more. As I have now deluded myself into thinking that I am actually well-rested, I will probably go on and on about a jumble of things that interest no one but myself. Here goes ...

Poor Imri has gas. Mylic0n drops do help but they are not a cure. The foods I eat seem to make no difference although I am trying to keep milk products to a minimum, despite studies that show it makes no difference. But last night Imri slept without waking in screaming agony even once. And voila, mom feels like she won the lottery. Yeah, I'd give a lot for some decent REM sleep, but hey - I'm not complaining. Honest.

My beautiful son is a very sweet-tempered boy - and I am a lucky woman. He cries - nay, screams, when the basics don't go his way - ie, the breast is not offered promptly and forthwith, when I insist on cleaning his poopy bottom, or the aforementioned gas attacks. Other than that, he is a sunshiny child, alert and interested in most things around him, preferably light sources of all kinds. He is holding up his head with remarkable ease for an infant - he actually was doing that when he was new-born, but he really holds it up now - yes, I'm a proud and doting mommy and I'm bragging. So there.

Imri is a boy of many names, one of which is "Grunty McSnorty" ... you should hear him when he's tucking into a meal at my breast. It's pretty funny - if I could figure out how to use John's vid-cam, I'd tape him. He'll make a moue` with his mouth - I'll insert the nipple and he'll get a gleam in his eye and start shaking his head frantically and grunt repeatedly... "no!! No mom! Not like that!!" while straight-arming me and popping on and off the latch until I finally place it correctly and to his exacting specifications. Yeah, he's gonna be an engineer. Oy. But he's a great eater when he *does* latch on. And he does too smile, darn it. I see it frequently when he's put to the breast. Funny how that is.

He loves to be held and to snuggle, which has made it a tad difficult to use the bassinet regularly. As it stands, John has taken over the couch downstairs (mostly because I threatened him with various plagues if his *&^$%#&! alarm clock EVER woke me again after I had finally fallen asleep ...) and Imri and I share the big bed. Yes yes, I have heard of the evils of co-sleeping, but I fail to see the difference between him lying on his back on our bed with me next to him (and trust me, I don't move. Hell,no, I'm sound asleep when he is)and him lying on his back in the bassinet. He is happy and content and more importantly - he sleeps. And also of extreme importance ... when he sleeps, I sleep. It's all good.

He does freak me out sometimes when he does his "light sleep cycles". Yeah, I even googled it because it happens frequently during feeding time - suddenly his eyes will open and he'll look around - only he's not really looking around. His mouth moves, he makes little laughing sounds, maybe even continue to nurse ... only he's not awake. Thank the google gods for hits on "ask dr sears.com" which describe my baby to a T. I was close to calling the pediatrician.

Whom I adore, by the way. Dr E is a gem and I love her. On our second visit (with the whole jaundice scenario)to see her, she heard me talking to my mom in the hallway and came round the corner with a sweet smile and asked "how's Imri doing today?". She knew his name already - call me silly but that, in addition to her calm demeanor and breadth of knowledge impressed the hell out of me, considering how busy she is.
She asked me why I hadn't had him vaccinated for Hep B while in hospital ... is it only me that thinks that inoculating a newborn falls into the category of "cruel and unusual"? Besides, they couldn't promise me that the vaccine didn't have thimerisol in it, so ... I said no. There's plenty of time for it - probably at his one month visit, when he gets a few others. Ouch. Yes I'm an RN, but when it comes to my son, I'm just a mom - they had to take blood from him during the jaundice thang ... not just a heel stick either, they did venipuncture and I was a complete and utter hysterical and sobbing mess. It's a good thing my mom was with me. Nuff said.

Speaking of which, it was wonderful and awful having my parents here. Both of them are wonderful people who only want the best for us all but we are all set in our ways and they forget that they're in their seventies. Add to the mix one hormonal, exhausted and strung-out postpartum woman and you have a setup for all kinds of hijinx. The kicker for me was when my dad decided to reorganize my linen closet. Yeah.

My parents helped out tremendously though - they worked very hard helping get our house ready for the bris and with Imri having jaundice and me on orders not to drive - well, it would have been very tough getting around. Not to mention the cooking and cleaning she did ... and the hard work my dad did helping John finish the nursery.

And John - he has been wonderful. I can't say enough, so I won't. I am a lucky woman.

Anyway, I've babbled on enough. Please feel free to share advice, assvice and anything else and thank you so much for your good wishes. If you've emailed me and expected a swift response - well, can you hear my laughter from over there? Yes Paul, this means you.

And a reward for those of you who have read this far ... more pics! My beautiful baby is getting so big so very fast. Oh, and since Blogger is giving me grief with the titling of pics - the dark pic before the nursery pics is what the room looked like when we moved in. Yeah, and kids lived in that room. Amazing.

I'm not much of a photographer but

... I really had to post this picture. He is the most beautiful baby I have ever seen. I'm in love.

Stealing a moment

to post some pics ... the jaundice has resolved nicely, the bris was beautiful and on my 40th birthday which made it even more special. All my siblings were at my side, my parents were here and even some of John's family came. John is besotted with his new son and is so very proud.

Here he is ... my beautiful and beloved Imri.

Introducing ....

Well, it's been hard to find the time to post - a rough week including an infection (me) and jaundice (baby) which has meant many doctors visits on both ends and much bloodwork for my poor beautiful son ... but he's here and magnificently gorgeous, of course.

It started one week ago when u/s revealed far too little amniotic fluid and I was ordered to go straight to the hospital for induction. This set off a panic in two countries - Canada (my parents and sibs)and the US (my husband who was NOT expecting an early visitor!).

By 12 noon last Thursday they had already done u/s and confirmed the fluid status - and that the baby was doing practice breathing in utero, so he was a good delivery risk. I was 37 weeks, 3 days at that point.

They started induction with Cytotec (vaginally) which did wonders for contractions and slight effacement but little for dilation which remained at 0. Yeah. So four hours later we did another dose of Cytotec by mouth which did pretty much the same thing. Contractions were strong and regular, effacement was good but we didn't progress. So, another dose of vaginal Cytotec 4 hours after that ... and we were completely effaced.

At this point I had been labouring for about 12-14 hours with no real progress and it was early in the morning. The nurses and my doc were awesome - the doc decided after the third Cytotec dose to start me on Pitocin, an IV induction drip. Man, that stuff works but after several hours, I was exhausted and still only slightly dilated. The doc was concerned about my exhaustion - which was apparent to all, it seems and they offered me Nubain. I had already decided that I didn't want narcotics but after nearly 24 hours of labour and no end in sight, my husband encouraged me to take it so to get some desperately needed rest. I did and was so glad!! Just goes to show you, you need to be flexible in your birth plan, seriously. I wouldn't have made it without that rest.

When I awoke we realized that I was now 3 cm dilated and this was good! Finally! They called the anaesthesiologist who put in the epidural but ten minutes later I had no relief from what was now heavy labour. So the anaesthesia dude dosed the epidural ... and suddenly everything got really slow and tinny-sounding and I went down. I kept trying to tell my husband and the nurse that something was terribly wrong but I didn't think they could hear me and I couldn't move (I thought I was dying, seriously) - it seemed like forever (I found out later it was about 1-2 minutes) but we found out that the epidural was in the wrong place. The doc removed it and I slowly returned to normal - but still in heavy labour.

They asked me if I still wanted an epidural and I definitely did ... but I had to wait another 30 minutes for another attempt and that was hard - serious strong contractions, which I handled well but was in a great deal of pain. John was wonderful through this entire thing, btw. So 30 minutes later we got in an epidural without further incident, thank heaven ... and I got some relief and some sleep.

When I awoke, the nurse did an internal ... and viola! 36 hours later and I was fully dilated! And I told the nurse I felt pressure .... before I knew it, I was being told to push!

41 minutes labour our beautiful son was born as I pushed and watched through a mirror - the most incredible sight I've ever seen. He weighs 7lb 1oz, 20 inches long and has reddish-blond hair. He is beautiful - truly beautiful and perfect and worth every bit of everything we went through to bring him here.

I hope to have pics soon - they are on the computer but I haven't really had time to do much with them. The bris is Sunday (delayed because of jaundice) so once he's named, I will share.

Thank all of you for your wonderful support over this time! I will keep you posted.

If it's a guest poster, you know there has to be news

Oh I love this part! This is when it is SO good to be the Auntie Em!

Ahem... I am pleased as punch to announce that at 1:47pm, Eastern Standard Time...

His Royal Highness Prince Chaos was born!

He weighed 7 pounds, 1 ounce, has reddish hair... Apgar scores of 8 and 9, and is already latching on.

Mom (yes...MOM...can you believe it?) will post the birth story later, but she is over the moon and quite in love with her beautiful son. Everyone is doing just great.

Oh, and do not fear. He may be Prince Chaos, but we will teach him to be Prince Charming, and no silly symbols for names!

More later, thanks for all your love and support. I know that the Sister of my Heart and the entire family really appreciate it.

Off to the hospital !!

They are inducing me - the amniotic fluid is too low! Wish me and baby Chaos good luck, folks :)
It's time!

Miscellany

37 weeks. I am enormous.

I waddle. Slowly. And I am utterly exhausted, no matter how much sleep I get.

Work is getting very hard. Damn 10 hour shifts. I left after 8 today.

I have frequent abdominal pains which I assume are Braxton-Hicks. My stomach is so tight right now I think I'm gonna pop.

The baby is definitely lower - in my crotch-type lower. I swear I feel his hands in my cootch sometimes.

I'm still trying to bake as much as possible, for some reason. Right now all the fixins for Chocolate Truffle Cookies are on my kitchen counter - all that's lacking is energy. Ah, I can do it tomorrow. On Yom Kippur. Right.

We bought a used chest freezer off Craig's list. I am so happy.

We bought a beautiful area rug for our family room, the room with the ruined carpet. At least now we won't be ashamed to welcome folks into our home.

I bought a second-hand Snoogle pillow off Craig's list for 15 bucks and it's a great investment. Seriously. I should have bought one months ago. They're $50 new, so that held me back but $15 ... that I could swing.

I have no linea nigra. I checked. With a mirror and everything. And I still have an innie.

OB appt is on Thursday - with a non-stress test. We shall see what we see. I bet I'm dilated. I better be.

I've had two patients tell me how "cute" I look. Hmmph. I don't FEEL cute. Grrrr.

John is still working on the nursery. The baseboards are nearly done. Then the carpeting begins.

Beaver Girl's water broke today! Yay!! I can't wait to read her and little beaver's story.

I honestly don't think I'll go till my due date (31st) but who knows? We'll see.

And now you're caught up.

36 weeks and the countdown begins

I'm amazed if anyone is still reading. Sorry 'bout that. It's just hectic times here at Chez Chaos and it feels like a holding pattern - at least for me.

John is still working hard on the nursery - I think he's planning on laying carpet soon, which is good - yes, it finally arrived albeit without the ordered high-end padding, so they upgraded us to commercial padding. Seeing as they had an 8+ month pregnant woman sitting on their doorstep at 8pm, patiently awaiting her promised (and late) carpet delivery, it was the least they could do. John's been painting trim and adding his own touches to the room and it's going to be beautiful. Also, I scored bedding on Ebay that matches our wallpaper border - 40 bucks for bumpers, dust ruffle, headboard, sheet and comforter. In mint condition. Go look at the price of baby bedding if you don't understand how good that is.

This past weekend we went to childbirth classes - I was skeptical but I found them helpful and more importantly, John found them helpful, particularly in the "how to make your labouring wife feel better" department. Yes, massage is good. Massage is very good. I've already received a gratis foot rub since that day. All hail our instructor.

This is Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year. My best wishes for a healthy, happy, fruitful and sweet year to all my readers! Le'Shana Tova Te'chatevu! I rushed home from work last night and roasted a chicken with honey and did other good things - Jr was cute when he said "it smells like when we go to Canada in here". We usually go to Canada for celebrations, so that was nice. I played some of my favourite Israeli music and we dipped apples in honey with a blessing for a sweet New Year. It's definitely going to be a good one!

I had to renew my driver's license today - I didn't realize they'd be taking a new picture - they didn't with John!! I had no makeup on and all my baby fat. Oy. The nice part was that we didn't have to wait long - although the DMV was packed solid (no school today, what was I thinking?), the very nice man running things came up to me, eyed my belly and tsked. "You have at least a two hour wait". I cringed and asked if there was an envelope I could have to mail the thing in (which is why I went there in person, I had lost the special envelope they send you)and to which Nice Man said "come with me" and had one of the tellers do me next. I thanked him profusely - that was just plain out nice. To give you an idea, they were on number 56 and mine was 83. Yeah. There are kind people out there. Of course, he may have just been concerned about me giving birth right there and then. I am looking rather enormous these days.

Jr applied for a job at the nearby Sheetz (gas/convenience) and has to go back tomorrow for an aptitude test. YES!!! Please send good thoughts his way - and my way - because the kid really really REALLY needs a job. Or should I say *I* really need for him to have a job.

Last but not least - I had my 36 week (!!!) OB appointment today. His Highness is, in Dr Delivery's parlance "a little chubby". He's still measuring around 82-84th percentile, IOW he's about 6-7 lbs. His shoulder measurements might be a tad large, I'm not sure. Dr D is rather close-mouthed which isn't a bad thing with me because I tend to obsess and worry about every little thing - but I did find it a touch patronizing. Of course, I'm also hormonal and find the McDonald's cashier patronizing these days, so go figure.

But he was cautious about my low amniotic fluid. He wants me to start drinking 4 liters of water a day. Oy. I was, once upon a time in my second trimester when my bladder was free and easy. It's not so easy now but I'll try. He also wants me to have a non-stress test to make sure all is well with His Highness.

My blood sugars are good - he was glad to see that.

We did the Group B Strep test and my very first internal which revealed that my cervix is still closed and I am slightly effaced. I would tell you I'm going to 42 weeks only Dr Delivery told me that with my type of GD, they're not going to let me go much past my due date. Amen.

As for risk of a c-section, he was non-committal. He said "we'll see what happens" basically. Which is fine with me, but will make my mother crazy. Ah well. Yes, the same mother who basically chewed me out for using Dreft on the baby's clothes. No, I don't quite get it either.
I guess I'll be hiding the Dreft together with the pork chops when my parents come visit. It's just easier than arguing.

Things I did today

Relaxed and took it easy in the morning because of feeling poorly yesterday and leaving work early. Man, it was good to luxuriate in the "alone at home on a beautiful day" feeling. I know it won't happen again for a while.

Found out that Home Dep0t claims the nursery carpet will be in tomorrow. Right. The doors we ordered won't be in till mid-October. Supposedly.

Ordered my Land's End diaper bag.

Mailed shower thank-you notes.

Picked up Dreft, another cute outfit for His Highness, a bunch of stuff for the hospital (moisturizer, lip balm, pjs, etc) and some printer cartridges, one of which is defective. *sigh*.

Packed my hospital bag. (!!!)

Got the infant car seat installed. (!!!!)

Picked up my SIL's bassinet and a pile of baby clothes.

Started washing all baby clothes for under 9 months of age and towels, washclothes and receiving blankets. (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Folded said baby clothes etc neatly and have packed them away from marauding cats.

Came to the realization that there will be a baby living here very very soon.

Might I possibly be nesting?

It's all in the numbers

I'm feeling good, really. Other than tired, which is to be expected, I assume. My bladder won't let me get away with more than 3 hours of sleep at a time for the most part. And baby boy is active and hiccoughing, which is cute but a touch annoying. Especially at three am. Currently his foot is firmly placed, heel first, against my right upper quadrant.

Have I mentioned how much I adore feeling him move? It really is the best thing.

The OB was concerned about my headaches, but I think they are coming from my neck - no surprise there, really. He decided that he wants me to come in this coming week, which basically means that from here on in, I'm being seen every week. He also insisted on another growth u/s which rocks, especially as it's my primary OB who will be doing it - that's the following week at 36 weeks - and probably will be my first internal exam. Nerve-wracking but exciting, nonetheless. I'm going to start having to deal with terms like "dilated" and "effaced". Ack.

My bloodwork came back well - while my platelets are still low - 116 - that's still up from last week's 105 and my liver enzymes seem to have decided that normalcy is a better way to go. I concur.

I'm having a tougher time with my sugars though, and remain a tad baffled at how eating a half english muffin with canadian bacon and cheddar cheese with a juicy peach will not spike my sugars at all (86), but give me some form of dinner with 1/2 cup of (light)ice cream and see me go through the roof to 150-160. I won't mention McDonald's french fries - nor the Royal avec fromage. Nor the Cold Stone Creamery visit this afternoon. Hey, I had a salad for lunch ... I *should* be able to have some ice cream now and then. I left half in the freezer, I swear. I'm really hoping my sugar will be good after this.

My biggest problem (ok, debatable but still)is that I don't usually eat desert immediately after dinner but I have to check my sugar 2 hours after the start of a meal. So, if I don't eat desert (and that means fruit or other sweet stuff) pronto after mealtime, it screws my sugar monitoring up. Or, I have to wait 2 hours to have it, which when you eat dinner at 8pm, isn't conducive. Not to mention the "before bedtime snack" I'm supposed to enjoy right before shut-eye. It's frustrating.

Now seeing how I don't really spike from fruit, I've been increasing my fruit intake a little bit. Plums seem to be ok, peaches (small to medium) seem to be fine. Apple need to be small and grapes do need to be measured out. I'm good with that, I just want some fruit, damnit. Meat and cheese are getting old.

It's very hard to stay good in my pasta-loving family but I've been trying. Mostly I'm too tired from 10 hour days on my feet to cook anything other than pasta - and because I'm so brain-dead these days that I forget to take anything out of the freezer in the mornings.

I sorted all the outfits we received from various peoples and I have a large pile of sizes, ranging from 0-3, 3-6, 0-6, 6-9 and even some 6-12 months. We have onesies, pants (yes, we received pants, Stace), sleep gowns and sleepers. I have a pile of blankets, including a "swaddle me". And it's all in my living room because the nursery isn't ready yet, although John has put up some of the wallpaper border (Classic Pooh, of course) and we had to order more. Oops.
Here's the pile o clothes and blankets:










And here's some more of the stuff we got, including the lovely rocker/recliner I got for 10 bucks at a garage sale and below, the dresser/armoire I got for 20 bucks, also at a garage sale.


























Oh and Donnie asked for belly pics ... here you go, sistah. I am officially enormous.





































This will be you one day soon, Donnie. Believe me. I didn't think it would happen to me, either! Note the innie. Ahem.

Gratitude

I'm off to the OB's shortly. Not sure what to expect - I think it's too early in the game for an internal although I'd really like to know if I was dilated or effaced at all. Yes yes yes, I *am* a control freak. Please. This is not news.

I'm going to stop and have bloodwork done first. Yes, I've resisted having it done till now, I'm a good girl.

On the home front ... things are better with Jr. We finally hashed it out this weekend, and while I'm not expecting things to remain stellar for long periods of time, I did throw in a few "there is enough love in this family for four" and "we're excited about you being a big brother" and other similar comments into the mix. I do think it helped. We also took Jr shopping where my acumen served us well in terms of both fashion choices ("My best friend thinks these jeans are COOL! He wants some just like them!!") and financial choices - thank you JCPenneys for providing both sale items AND an extra 15% off for us loyal customers. I became cool (very short term, I know)for allowing TWO pairs of jeans, a shirt AND a jacket - and all name brands.

We also purchased a few baby items just in case we didn't get enough onesies, socks and outfits. HAH! We also bought an infant bath tub and some extra sheets. Just in case. Oh, and did I mention the adorable Redskins outfit we got?? John was beaming.

Let me tell you folks about the baby shower ... it's hard for me because I keep bursting into tears. The people I work with were extraordinarily generous - I mean that. So much off the baby registry that my mind is utterly blown - the Kolcraft stroller, the pack n play, baby monitor, baby swing, bouncy seat, Baby Einstein stuff, CDs, extra infant carseat base, Avent bottle set, Aquarium crib toy and tons of clothes, diapers, wipes, outfits ... and a gorgeous sweater knitted by the nurse manager. I'm missing bunches of stuff, I know. I was in tears most of the time. One of our nurses made a "diaper cake" - layers of diapers and washclothes all rolled up and tiered to look like a cake - and covered with baby novelties and little things like pacifiers and bibs ... amazing. I've tried to post a pic of everything but had to cut out some of the enormous pile to protect the innocent. You *can* see the diaper cake on top.

We are tremendously grateful - there is no way we could have ever afforded all this - my living room looks like a baby store. There is no way I could ever say thank you that would express exactly how heartfelt it is, that would cover how truly grateful we are.

John said in his usual laconic way (after he closed his mouth that had dropped open at the sight of everything)"they must like you". I guess they do. They really do.

In case you read this - thank you - with all my heart, to each and every one of you. It means more than you know, more than I will ever be able to express. We are very blessed to have you care so much about us and our baby.

It's mostly good news

A quick post as I am rather busy this morning - my work shower is today! I am truly excited.
Good news - the 24 hour urine came back negative. I called the doc's office and spoke with the RN, gave her my name and her response "oh, I know about you!!" said in a nice way but ... oy. Good thing I'm always very nice to the nurses there. Or anywhere, really.
I have the slip for bloodwork and I'll get it done this weekend or Monday - I definitely feel less pressure now that the urine came back well. And my next appointment is Tuesday, so hopefully all will remain good and happy at Chez Chaos. Well, relatively so. We're still dealing with the stepson who is being a nearly complete ass.

I'm feeling pretty good except for almost constant upset stomach and tummy issues. Other than that - nada. My baby boy is a mover and shaker ... can I tell you how much I adore feeling him move and stretch? He doesn't kick a lot, just moves around and it sends me into some weird sort of smiling place. I'll lie there at night and watch my stomach move and shake, feeling rather Ripley-ish and glad I know what's in there.

We went out and purchased carpet for the nursery (ack! nursery! Ack! I used the word!!) as the current carpet is messed up and one corner has mold on it. Yeesh. Since we purchased it AND got a home dep0t card, we now have the power to charge even more renovations and get more stuff done. Scary. We may be able to order closet and pantry doors, too. Don't want to dig that hole too deep, you know?

So, feeling better and more optimistic on this end. I'm trying to ignore the teenager for the most part - it's my feeling that he is acting out because he is feeling his world change - 12th grade, baby on the way, no more "only child" status (he isn't at the biothing, she whelped a few), no more "apple of daddy's eye" status, etc etc ... but John doesn't see it. Yet. Still it's no excuse for his lousy behaviour - and John has to start dealing with it appropriately. And now, not soon. I'm close to my breaking point and I'd really like a peaceful last month or so prior to His Highness's arrival.

Alright, time to split. The nails MUST get done, you know. Thanks for the encouragement and for coming to catch up on me.

Update on Hypochondria

I called my OB's office yesterday, wondering what in tarnation had happened to my lab results, whereupon the nurse told me they didn't have them back yet. Yours truly questioned this because 1)hell, it's a pre-eclampsia workup and 2)isn't anyone in that office keeping track of my status?

Yeah, I was kind of annoyed. Even if it comes out to be nothing - what would a woman who didn't have a clue about her health have done so far? Seriously, I wasn't - and am not - impressed. At least I know what to ask and what to expect, up to a point.

Anyway, the nurse told me she'd call for the results. 90 minutes later I hadn't heard anything so I called back and she told me she was waiting for the doc to go over the results. I've been a nurse for a while - that told me there was indeed something to "go over".

My primary OB called me back, bless his heart. I love that man - he knows his stuff and when he talks to you, you feel like you're the only patient in the world. He's the reason I'm with that practice to begin with.

So here's the conversation.

OB: Hi Kinneret ... I'm looking at your results - tell me why we did these tests?

Me: Well, the doc I saw last Tuesday said that between my (relatively) elevated BP (128/80), the proteinurea (trace), the swelling and visual disturbances that it wouldn't be a bad idea.

OB: Hmm. I probably wouldn't have run these based on your history... but we have so here's the thing - did you do a 24 hour urine?

Me: Yes, yes I did. And the doc didn't have my chart last time because they couldn't find it.

OB: I have your entire chart here (sigh of relief from me). They didn't run a total protein on the urine which makes the results pointless. (Please note my growing silent incredulity over the phone)However, your platelets are low ... and one of your liver enzymes is slightly elevated. I want to repeat the bloodwork for your next visit and we'll try and get the lab to run the protein on the urine - if not, you'll have to do a 24 hour urine again, I'm sorry.

Me: It's no trouble (hahahahahaha!! I SO want to be toting around another cooler full of pee at work!!) but what exactly are my platelets and LFTS (liver function tests)?

OB: Let me see here ... your platelets or click here (for the more medically inclined)are 105 but you've been low before. Your ALT (liver enzyme) is 42 ...normal is 0-40. Nothing I'd get excited about normally but taking everything into consideration, it's worth a repeat.

At which point I asked him "so I'm sensing there's nothing to worry about here" and to which he answered carefully "well, let's repeat these tests and see what we get - right now we don't have enough information to determine anything".

So there you have it. I called the office this morning and the lab will indeed run the urine again ... and I will do the bloodwork once they send me the form. I'm hoping it's nothing, obviously and feeling pretty comfortable with my primary OB at the helm of this.

Hypochondria being what it is, I am trying very hard to stay positive, think good thoughts and not imagine phantom pain in my right upper quadrant. I'm actually feeling good for the most part, except for intermittent bouts of feeling crappy. If you do have any experience with this, either pre-e or HELLP, please share your thoughts with me? I'd appreciate it. Thank you.

Celebrating life

I never know if I should blog on September 11th anymore. Talking about our wonderful L&D tour yesterday seems rather trivial if you take everything into consideration, especially in light of Katrina.
I will quickly mention that the L&D department of the hospital in our small town has been completely renovated and is absolutely GORGEOUS. I mean it. Complete with brand new positionable beds, knowledgeable RNs- if our tour guide is any example, birthing balls, and squat bars. Yes, ladies and gents ... squat bars. Because, as the RN said "lying on your back to give birth just doesn't work well". Who knew that even here in Redneck country they were paying attention?.... oh, and a level II NICU. Which is nice because Level II starts at 32-33 weeks and guess who just hit 33 weeks? Yours truly. It's good to celebrate life on a day such as today.

I was thinking of posting this piece which I wrote 2 days after September 11th, 2001. I was working ICU at the time at Big Hospital in Baltimore and we emptied out, expecting casualties from both WTC and the Pentagon. The hardest part to accept for a very long time was that no one came. There was no one left.
One of the strangest parts of that day was going home after my 12 hour shift ended - we hadn't expected to go home, we thought we'd be swamped. But I drove home on I-95 - there were maybe 4 other cars on what is normally a packed highway. And we were all doing the speed limit. Funny how those things remain with you. Those days are the reason I listen to news radio in my car, not music. I re-read my words ... so much innocence still remained even after such a horrific disaster. I'm much more cynical now.

Here is what I wrote 4 years ago:

I was at work in the ICU when someone said something about the World Trade Centre. No one really paid attention at first - after all, the ICU is a busy place. But I walked into my patient's room and the TV was on ... just in time for me to see the second plane crash into the WTC.

I called out to some of the other nurses "Oh my god!!!!!! A plane hit the WTC!!!! ", not realizing that this was the second one for a few moments ... watching in absolute horror and stunned silence. After all, this stuff happens only in movies, right? Where was Bruce Willis? But as panic filled the airwaves, the realization sank in - this wasn't a movie. This was reality, harsh cold and bitter - and hateful. Doctors and nurses started running into our ICU rooms from the OR, people crowded around the TVs in utter silence and disbelief, watching the videos over and over as if hoping to glean some understanding, hoping that this wasn't happening, that no just god would ever allow something like this to happen.

We cancelled our OR cases and the docs kept coming in to watch the news. I can't and never will forget the looks on the faces of my fellow nurses as the extent of the terror unfolded - looks of horror, disbelief, fear
... and tears. There were a lot of tears here, tears from doctors and nurses who truly thought they had seen it all. We kept hugging each other, trying to make the pain stop to no avail.

The shock hadn't set in when we set ourselves to the task of becoming a possible disaster zone. We cleared out all non-critical patients in anticipation of the wounded. We organized and took solace in busy work, trying not to think of the reason we were doing this.

And then the Pentagon. My heart stilled a moment. John. His work is on a base not far from there ... an important base. I ran to the phone ... other nurses were calling their husbands, brothers, fathers. John's voice mail - please please please let this be only because he is away from his desk. I left a frantic message. 5 minutes later he called me back, safe and sound. His voice never sounded as sweet.

I called my parents. My mother was hysterical with worry ... we tracked down my brother who was supposed to have been in NY at WTC for business this week. His trip was cancelled. Toronto seems like a better place these days.

My mother said words that keep ringing in my ears ..."We lived in Israel for 10 years and we never came as close to this as you did today. " It's true. I felt safer there. I never felt fear as I do today.

Israel declared a day of mourning, Israelis in the streets were in tears.

The Palestinians were dancing in the streets and handing out candy. Check out Salon.com's article. Oh yeah, and the AP has pictures of more than just a group of kids dancing in the street too, which is what Arafat is claiming is all it was. There was a large gathering in Nablus. Only the AP won't release the pictures because of terrorist threats.

It doesn't make me feel good to say that, to reinforce what Israel and Israelis have known about terrorists and terrorism for so long. It's not "I told you so". "I told you so" has never left the taste of ashes in my mouth.

But the US is bonding together, brought closer by this horrific tragedy. At work today in one of the newspapers was a full page colour copy of a waving American flag with the words "One nation, undivided ...". I took it and hung it on the wall right at the entrance to our nursing station. Most of us were fighting back tears.

And I've been that way since this happened. Fighting back tears or succumbing to them often, without reason. Sobbing. Unable to understand. And I don't understand, I don't. I never want to. I save lives every day. Who could do this, what kind of hatred does this to a person that they could plot and carry out the deaths of perhaps 10,000 innocent civilians, people who did them no wrong other than be a different religion, different nationality, different skin colour.

This evening I sat watching TV once again, unable to pull myself away from the horror, the plane diving again and again into the flaming towers, the collapse, the horror. Tears came hot and bitter as I watched the president of Cantor Fitzgerald sob on national TV as he told of the 700 people, coworkers and friends that he lost on Tuesday. 700 out of 1000 people. He wasn't there because he took his 5 year old child to her first day of kindergarten. The guilt, the pain on his face. How do we cope with the enormity of this horror?

In the end, most of the patients ended up going to a different ICU at our hospital, one that has greater experience dealing with severe burn patients. Military helicopters kept landing, ambulances kept coming in that day, sirens blaring. But other than that an eerie silence. The part that probably hurts most is that we should have been filled with patients. But they're finding no one. No one. We can save no one. And gods, does that hurt. Please, let us save someone. Please.

I try to take solace in the patients we do have, the ones that we are saving, now and everyday. But it's so hard. I feel helpless and I still can't stop crying. Even now as I type this.

People turn to faith at times like these but I, I stand here, fist to the sky and scream "Why????" "If there is a god, a just and loving god ... WHY???????". No such god would allow children to be orphaned, no such god would tear people apart like this, no god would hurt those good souls who rushed into the buildings with no thought other than to save the lives of others. I have no faith in god, no. No. Not anymore. Not ever again. I have lost what little faith I still used to cling to at tough times and the pain of loss grows greater.

And I find myself restored in humanity, in the faces of firefighters and EMTs and nurses and doctors and the thousands of volunteers out there right now, where I should be, searching and working till they drop from fatigue, yet still holding the ember of hope in their hearts. Thank you, all of you. I hope you all understand how much what you're doing means to me.

My heart goes out to the victims, the survivors and to all of us. We are lessened because of this. We are strengthened because of this. We are more human for it. I mourn for our loss, not just a loss to the USA, but a loss to the world. This planet will never be quite the same.

Be safe and hold your loved ones close.

Notes from Hypochondria

I find that yet again I must thank my readers for their support and kindness. This is a good thing - not only does it show that my readers are wonderful (and you are, each one of you), it shows that my mother raised me properly and with good manners. So much so that I called her the other day and apologized profusely for everything I ever did to her when I was a teen.
Yes, the situation with the teenager hasn't improved. Ah well. I will mercifully spare you the latest. Suffice it to say he lost his mp3 player for a couple of days despite his cries of "you can't take that, my MOTHER gave it to me". Watch me, you little shit. Sorry. There goes my BP again.

I've heard nothing about my 24 hour urine yet and I'm taking the "no news is good news" as gospel, ignoring the fact that I didn't bring it in until Thursday morning and meaning that results most likely won't be ready till Monday. But I am being positive about this and I feel that it will be ok. I've also tried to convince myself that I don't see bright lights in front of my eyes, that I'm merely a hypochondriac, but since it happened yesterday again, I'm having difficulty with that whole river in Egypt thing.

I do see wispy things and dots in front of my eyes and figure those may be "floaters" but seeing bright flashes and lines of light ... well, it wasn't my imagination. I took my pressure at the time at it was 114/70. Not bad. On the same machine I usually read 105/60, so nothing too worrisome. Hence my belief that all will be well with the urine.

My glucose has been pretty stable and I will once again say how glad I am for the care and follow-up I am getting from the nursing hotline. Also, a sincere thanks to Beaver Girl for her support on this - it's rare when someone understands "exactly" what you mean. Thanks, babe. It means mucho.

I have alternated between feeling pretty good and feeling damned awful, awful to the point where I've thought "ok, let's look up the symptoms of HELLP in my old maternal/neonatal nursing textbook (which is now a bazillion years old). I have some of the symptoms, but not all ... nausea - sometimes check, malaise - check, gestational hypertension - kind of check, edema - check, proteinuria - check.
I do know that when they did bloodwork for me on 24 hour urine day, they did not do a coagulation study. I'm guessing they think I'm in Hypochondria too.

Probably the thing that has spun me into Hypochondria the fastest is my growing lack of confidence in the care I've been getting at my OB's. Between the loss of my chart ("oh look, I've lost 4 lbs!" "Really? I wouldn't know, we can't find your chart" ) and their seeming lack of knowing what I'm scheduled for and my diagnoses, in addition to chart omissions (see previous posts)...well, I feel like I'm the only person who really gives a damn/knows squat about what is going on with me. That's not a good place for a worry-wort.
And it's too late to find a new OB, really. I'm not ready to do that.

I have made one executive decision though - if these tests come back poorly, my next phone call Monday morning will be to the perinatologist. Because if I come back pre-eclamptic or anything along those lines, I'm not trusting my OB's office to do it right.

Looking at the bright side ... tomorrow I will be 33 weeks. It's almost safe to go back in the water ... or in this case, surfactant, which is my main concern. It would be nice to avoid a NICU stay and I'm very close to that cutoff line. That fills me with hope.

I really didn't mean this to be doom and gloom - it's not. I'm feeling good this morning and am looking forward to our Labour and Delivery tour today - it's exciting and nerve-wracking in a sweet way. My baby boy is an active lil guy and I enjoy feeling him move - to me it is truly one of the sweetest feelings in this known universe. Watching my belly undulate - well, I could do it for hours. He can kick me as much as he likes - nothing better, from my perspective.

I am definitely slowing down these days - I see it in my walking, at work, and in general. I honestly never thought I'd get slower as this pregnancy progressed - I'm not sure why I thought that. And a couple of women have said "have you dropped a little?" - hard for me to say, I don't really feel it but the doc did say that I'm carrying low per ultrasound.

And next weekend is my work baby shower. It's very exciting for me ... a woman who had come to accept that she would probably never have a baby - and here I am having two showers for this very very loved child. I am so very lucky.

I'll probably end up fooling everyone, myself included, and go to 41 weeks.
Any takers on that bet?

Update from my OB visit

I got to my OB's to find that no one knew about my scheduled ultrasound and they couldn't find my chart. *sigh*. I'm really having trouble with this practice.

Anyway, after waiting over one and a half hours and arguing with the receptionist about said ultrasound(!!!) I finally had my growth u/s. Baby boy is doing well but he is at the 84th percentile for growth - measuring nearly 2 weeks ahead. That is not wonderful if I want to have a regular birth although OB didn't think he'd be more than oh ...say ... 8 or 9 pounds if he continued at this growth rate. Uhuh.
The good part of that equation is this - if we have to go early, he'll be a decent weight. I'm definitely taking some consolation in that matter, thanks Stacy.

She said we wouldn't absolutely do a c-section unless we were looking at 10 lbs (!!!!) but said I could have one if I wanted one. I didn't take that any farther. Yet.

She saw my swollen feet and tut-tutted, saw my BP which is now 128/80 (I'm normally 110/60), heard about the little spots of light in front of my eyes and ordered a 24 hour urine test - that should be fun at work tomorrow. They also ordered bloodwork and I reminded them to check my thyroid function ... *sigh*. I'm getting tired of reminding my OBs of the basics.

The good news is that I've lost 3 lbs and the baby is doing well and pointing in the right direction. My amniotic fluid is good. She also said he is riding very low and asked if I'm feeling a lot of pressure - which I am.

So ... I was hoping for better news, but it certainly could be worse too. I'm starting to think this baby will come early and via c-section.

Just one more thing - it's very overwhelming. I'm trying to stay optimistic and cheerful but it's not easy ... I know I sound like I'm whining - there are women going through SO much more than I am. It just feels like a lot - but then again, I could be in Louisiana and going through the same thing. THAT would be bad.

There are so many positives here, sometimes it's just hard to see them from where I am sitting. Hence my reasoning that I'm fighting depression.

One of the nicer things to happen today is the phone call I received from the nurse telephone line that's monitoring my gestational diabetes - just calling to touch base and tell me that my blood glucose has been great! That was so nice - the RN really made me smile.
I told her about my lunch today - I treated myself to Cheesecake Factory - had Buffalo wings and a salad. Only to find out that there was orange juice in the wings "just for a touch of sweetness" - said the waiter proudly after I had finished a bunch - and that the salad I ordered had a large amount of noodles in it. Oops. I ate what I thought was reasonable and my sugar was 112 2 hours post-lunch, so I did good. She was proud of me but not in a sappy way, which made me feel alright. Maybe I am getting the hang of this GD stuff. Maybe.

Oh, and I ordered cheesecake for Jr and John ... both in flavours I don't like. No temptation!! I am so good. I really wanted to order the white chocolate raspberry cheesecake or the Godiva one ... but I refrained.

So that's my story. I wish it were better, but if nothing else, please wish me luck with the 24 hour urine thing. I could use a break.

And the Oscar goes to ...

me, for an outstanding performance in the role of "who, me? depressed? hahahahahaha, you've got to be kidding", without giving it away to my dear husband, who has no clue.

Yeah, I think I am. I mean, I'm functioning and everything but I'm a complete emotional basket case and feel inadequate and near to tears all the time.

GD sucks. I'm having a tough time with the emotional aspects of restricted eating - I have food issues, folks. Big ones. GD makes it very hard. I know I need to suck it up and get over myself but ... hell, it's my blog and I'll whine if I want to.

The thought of a c-section is scary but I've sort of made peace with it. Sort of but not really. I'm afraid I'll miss out on the whole birth experience, as this will likely be my only child - and I really don't want to miss out on anything. And that is a big deal. So, maybe I'm fooling myself with this "at peace" thing.

It does bag me another 2 weeks of stay at home time with His Highness which is a shitty way to look at it and yes, I do think the United States SUCKS in regards to moms and maternity leave and if you think that makes me an America hater ... well, bully to you. Have a nice day, thanks for flying Air Chaos. Don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way to the next blog.

I go to the OB's today for a growth ultrasound just to make sure His Highness is doing well and is not humungous and I will talk to the doc about c-section options, etc. I just wish I knew what to ask. Who the hell died and made me the expert, anyway? I want my mom!! Or someone, anyway.

I do, yanno. It's weird. I called her yesterday and apologized for all the awful things (and they were many) I ever did to her when I was a teenager. Yeah, I may be slower than most, but I finally get it, especially since I've been dealing with the teen lately. His father finally saw some of the behaviour too, so some of the monkey is off my back. But yeah, Mom was pretty teary when I called her and apologized. She does keep bugging me about "when should we come down" (they're in Toronto) and I told her that I *may* have more answers for her today. But really, I don't know. And I don't want them here a month ahead of time, either. Oy.

Mostly, I feel badly for my baby to be. I'm sorry, kiddo. I really don't have a flying clue what I'm doing here and you're about to bear the brunt of it. I really am sorry.

I just wish this cloud would lift.

All resentment, almost all the time

I'm in a slightly better mood. Slightly, I said. Between the teenager who has decided that I am the weakest link and the hormones, the GD, the creeping blood pressure, the swelling, joint pain, insomnia, the State of the Union, the death of Rehnquist, and everything else in my life, I've been attempting to remain wholeheartedly jovial.
Of course, John (he of the trigger fuse) loses his temper whenever Jr and I disagree, no matter who is at fault (yes, I'm usually to blame, you know) which doesn't help. At all. The other day I turned to my beloved husband and told him that *I* wasn't his kid, and if he had a problem with me, he could address me privately, in a different tone and certainly not in front of the child.

Yes, all is as usual at Chez Chaos.

The stress of raising a child who is not your own, hormonal, and whose other parent does their righteous best to poison the child's mind against you, is difficult. And that's putting it mildly. Not to mention my own hormonality and issues. Those of you out there who are step-parents know of whence I speak, especially if you're dealing with teens. Life isn't bad all the time, but it can definitely be challenging.

Everything I read about bringing a baby into the world talks about what a special time this is for the couple, yada yada, peace and relaxation before the babe arrives, yada yada, bonding and love, yada yada. Sure, if you ignore my soaring blood pressure because of a certain teenager and the husband's soaring blood pressure because of the tension. Allegedly. He's most likely hypertensive anyway.

It doesn't seem to ever be enough. No matter how hard I try, it never seems to be enough. And that, my friends, is the crux of it. It should be enough. I try very hard with him, very hard indeed. Are there things I could do better or differently? Sure there are. Do I wish that in some ways I was a different type of parent? Absolutely.

I think about that a great deal - I don't delude myself into thinking that with His Highness, all will be bright and utopian and wonderful, and that I will be the best mama in the world since time began. No. I am well aware of my limitations, and they are many. But I will have some form of say in this new relationship with MY son, I will not be discounted and vetoed.

I will be the one to hear "I love you, Mom" no matter the shitty job I do. And I figure that if Jr says that to the biothing with all her poison, I may actually hear that from a child of my own, perhaps even said with greater sincerity than the offhandedness with which I hear it tossed from Jr's lips when he's on the phone.

Does that sound childish? I don't know. If it is, so be it. It's real. I feel it. I wonder sometimes if that was part of my impetus to have children at this late stage of the game. If so, is that awful of me?

It's just so very difficult to try so hard and get nothing in return other than constant arguments and resentment. And the resentment goes both ways, make no mistake. I wish John would back me up on these arguments more frequently, but I am sure than he is tired of it too.

He would rather avoid confrontation though. He would rather pretend all is hunky dory and well, pretend Jr is still 10, still coddle and give him an allowance (in 12th grade!!!!) than insist he get a job, or a driver's license, or make sure he help around the house, etc etc etc. The kid hasn't even looked at college applications yet, he'd rather look at video games. It's my humble opinion that John is doing his son no good by enabling this type of behaviour.

And then again, maybe it's me. Maybe I'm the hard nose without understanding or compassion.

I'm going to try and make today a good day and not worry about Jr. Let him be his Dad's responsibility. I need to focus on my very active and kicking son.

I've also decided that if there is indeed one Supreme Being, she has a kick-ass sense of humour in allowing all this shit currently upon the world to multiply and grow ... while GW Bush is president. That swinging pendulum has come back to kick us in the collective asses. Yes, it adds to my anxiety level. I'm that kind of girl.

Thank you for listening. Oh, and I'm eating an apple. It tastes like contraband.

Get off yer asses

It's been a tough week for anyone with a pulse and a heart. The pictures out of New Orleans are difficult - to the point that I can't watch TV without a pervasive sense of anguish - so I don't if the hubster (aka: news junkie) has the tube on.

I am so angry at our government - who seems to always find money to send to other countries asap but did nothing in New Orleans until the news media reported women being raped and babies dying in a largely African-American poor population. Is it me being cynical or does it seem to you too that cities with a larger white/affluent population got aid first?

What gets me deep inside is that the Bushies diverted money that was supposed to go into fixing the levees in N.O - after many studies that had told them that the levees would fail a major storm or hurricane. I mean, really. You don't need to be a rocket scientist to figure that one out. And with all the warnings we've had over the last few years about increasing hurricane and storm activity - by withdrawing funding, they basically condemned people to death. And yes - I have no love for Bush or any of his disgustingly corrupt cronies, but this goes beyond that. I expected our military/National Guard/whomever Bush hasn't sent to get killed for a war we shouldn't be involved in/ to be in N.O within a day or two, the way we were in Indonesia. What happened???

If you really want to look closely, take a peek at the person running FEMA, the Federal Emergency Management Agency. Bush fired James Witt, a FEMA and disaster aid professional who had turned the agency around but was a Clinton appointee (oh, the horror!)and put his crony, an inexperienced Joe Albaugh in to run the agency. It was an unmitigated disaster. He then appointed Michael Brown, an estate lawyer and another friend and crony to run things. We all know how much estate lawyers understand about FEMA. I mean, they teach that stuff to lawyers, don't they? Right up there with tort law and contracts ... they have a section on "managing a disaster". Right. Read a bit about this here.

I've actually heard people rail on about how dare those New Orlean's folks expect us to cover their asses when they live under sea level ... NEWSFLASH - a large part of the Netherlands (Holland to the uninitiated) is under sea level and they have an elaborate dyke and levee system which they tend to regularly.

Not to mention that the building of N.O started some hundreds of years ago before the concept of "sea level" had hit. I suppose you could use that same rationale to prevent aid going to California when the big one hits. "Heck, they knew about that fault, their problem". If you think that way, then you don't have the aforementioned heart.

There are many sites out there with good links to donate - and donate what you can, folks. The fine folks at Go Fug Yourself whom I adore, have an excellent list, just to mention one. Day writes a poignant entry about her own experiences with Hurricane Andrew. Cecily has a list going of interesting reads and options for donations - check out the comment section too.
We are broke and seriously so, but I am rounding up old clothes, stuff I was saving for a garage sale like dishes and a perfectly good but older coffee maker, unused house paint and painting supplies - anything I can find that I think will be useful. If we can do it here at Chez Chaos, more than likely you can too.

And yes, I am still grumpy and uncomfortable and generally not feeling well. In case you couldn't tell.

Pre-baby blues

First off - an update on the lovely "surprise" shower given by my mother in law. And yes, I acted surprised, don't worry. I was, a bit. It really was wonderful - and my mom called halfway through and I couldn't stop crying. Funny how even at the age of 39 you still want your mom around for stuff like that. Most of John's family was there, along with some dear girlfriends - so small and lovely. I feel very lucky and blessed by this universe.

We got lots of clothing and lotions and potions and stuff for the room itself and a couple of gift cards. MIL bought us a changing table which we returned because it doesn't go with the crib - but I'm keeping my eyes open for something similar. Today I went out and bought a Graco Snugride of the Kentshire variety as a car infant seat - the Target cards came in very handy! It was a wonderful day, and I am very grateful for having so much love in my life. John's family has been very good to me. I won't get into the crazy sister in law thing. Be thankful.

Today I'm in a funky and weird kind of mood. All I can say is "thank heaven the house is quiet, the turdteen is at school and I'm all alone.

There is so much I want to do to the baby's room and I can't. It sucks. I feel like I'm treading water right now and I don't like it much.

As a diversion, I've decided to make a list of "Stupid Things Patients Ask Us". Now I know we've all been told that there's no such thing as a stupid question, but friends - really, we all know there is. Oh yes, there are many MANY stupid questions and comments and I would swear that a large percentage of them are directed at your friendly neighbourhood nurse.

Now just to elucidate (yeah, I had to look that up too), I work in an endoscopy clinic. We do colonoscopies and upper endoscopies, where we look into patient's stomachs through their mouth. Patients get detailed instructions on preparing for their procedures from their doctors, including drinking clear liquids only (with a list of what they can have) and taking certain medications to clean themselves out and the need for someone to drive them home, as they'll have been sedated. They also get a detailed map of our location, as we serve three different gastro-intestinal specialist's practices - we are a semi-independent facility.

Because of a high stupidity factorgood customer service relations, we call them ahead of time and go over the basics with them. And still, the dumb questions continue. Let me mention that I have a soft spot for the elderly - they often don't understand the way things are done in modern medicine, in my experience - so these are not comments made by elderly people. Without further ado, here is my list of "Stupid Things People Ask or Say".

1)Is Cool-Whip a clear liquid? (hmmmm. solid. And opaque. I can see how you might think that ...)

2) Can I use toothpaste? (Do you EAT toothpaste??? If not, please do, Sir. We don't want to deal with your morning breath).

3)Is *my* doctor doing the procedure? (Did you schedule it with *your* doctor?)

4)I spoke to my lawyer and he said you don't have any right to ask me for my insurance card and picture ID! (Please find another lawyer, Ma'am)

5)Can I also get a Pap smear while you're doing this? (Said by a patient having an upper endoscopy).

6)Why do you need a list of my medications? (Ummm ...)

7)You can't force me to have someone drive me home!! I'll be able to drive! (Sir, if you really want to be disagreeable about this, please book your procedure somewhere else. This is the center's policy and yelling at ME isn't going to change a thing. If you really can't understand why you need someone to drive you home, I bet you drink and drive, too. Now please leave me alone. Thank you.)

8)My wife has no pulse!!! (Said by the obnoxious husband - also a surgeon (!!!) -of a patient. Meanwhile, said wife was sitting up in bed, talking to me.)Be very careful of general surgeons in the DC area. I'm just sayin'.

9)Can I eat applesauce?
"No Ma'am, it's not a clear liquid".
"But it says here that I can have apple juice."
"Yes Ma'am, apple juice is a clear liquid".
"But I can't have applesauce??"
"No Ma'am, applesauce is neither clear, nor a liquid".

10) "Can I eat grapes?"
"No Ma'am, grapes are not a clear liquid."
"But it says I can have white grape juice."
"Yes Ma'am, white grape juice is a clear liquid. Just like apple juice."
Silence. (one guess if that was the same patient as #9).

11) "Ma'am?"
"Yes? "
"The same thing goes for white cranberry juice and cranberries."
"Oh. I was going to ask."

12)If I have an upper endoscopy and a colonoscopy, do the tubes (scopes) meet in the middle? (Only if you don't have 30 feet or so of small intestine, Sir)

13)"Have you ever had a heart attack, Sir?"
"No, but I had an Xray of my heart and it showed a large tube or something"
"Can you tell me a little about this tube?"
"No"
"Do you have a cardiologist or heart doctor, Sir?"
"Yes"
"Do you know his name?"
"No"
(Turned out that the patient had an aortic aneurysm. Ooops)

I could go on but I won't. I thought this would be funnier than it is - upon re-reading it, it's pretty sad.

Yeah, pre-baby blues.

Not so impressed

So maybe I'm paranoid - shut up, I can hear you snickering at the "maybe" - but shouldn't a doctor seeing a relatively high-risk patient have the WHOLE chart in front of her on an OB visit?

Let me back up just a tad and say that I saw one of the OBs in the practice on Thursday morning, one I hadn't met before. She seemed fairly competent - it was hard to say because of the following:

1) When I mentioned my blood sugars to her, she said "Oh, do you have gestational diabetes? It's not in your chart."
2) When she asked me about contractions and problems and I answered "not since my visit to the hospital with PTL" she said - Oh, that's not in your chart"
3) She then asked me if I had ever had my amniocentesis results (!!!) and when I answered in the affirmative, she asked me what I was having - it wasn't in the chart.

She measured me and said I was bang on 30-31 weeks, so she saw no need for an ultrasound. I told her that I indeed wanted an ultrasound to see the size of the baby - "well" she said, "I guess we could do that in two weeks time on your next visit. We could code it for GD ... and I guess we could use AMA too (advanced maternal age)". I didn't tell her that I didn't give a shit how she coded it - I want to know how big this boy is and I have that right considering I have a GD diagnosis. She then told me she couldn't really tell which way the baby was lying from doing Leopold maneuvers. Hmmm. While His Highness is indeed a squirmy worm and I am sure from moment to moment that his toes are alternately in my cootch and then my ribs, I thought an experienced OB would be ...well ... more capable.

All in all, I wasn't very happy when I left - I did get scheduled for an ultrasound during my next visit in 2 weeks and I will be going to the Rockville office again, a 40 minute drive from here. *sigh*.

And that, I think, is the root of the problem. Because they are so short-staffed (2 OBs have left recently because of malpractice insurance costs) I can't get scheduled in the Frederick office - so they keep shunting me and my chart from office to office. But that still doesn't justify the pathetic lack of charting or the omissions thereof.

I called the office manager the next day and politely told her that what I had encountered the previous day was unacceptable. I was very nice (I hear you snickering again) but I told her in no uncertain terms that as a high-risk patient coming to their practice, I was perturbed at the lack of continuity of care and appropriate charting, and while I understood their staff issues, etc., this was unacceptable.

She completely agreed with me, which was good - she also told me that they are soon switching to electronic charting which would eliminate the problem. She will "definitely look into this". I left it there but I'll tell you, I'm not feeling the love. And this late in the game, it doesn't inspire me with confidence. I'm just not sure where I go from here.

Updated to add Just had my visit from the home healthcare RN who let me listen to the baby's heartbeat. I am in a very mellow mood now. Oh, and we're going to my mother-in-law's for what my husband stammeringly called "dinner". I'm thinking "baby shower". How exciting!!!

My first day as a gestational diabetes patient

The diabetic educator was over here on Sunday. Who would've thought that they'd send someone on a Sunday here in church-land? I was pleased. She did her best to explain everything but it's still rather overwhelming.

I don't mind the portioning so much as I do the lack of freedom to eat when I want. I graze pretty frequently ... nix that, I used to graze and nibble a lot - now I can't do that until I've checked my sugar - and I'm checking my sugar two hours after every meal. Oh and when I wake up I check my pee for ketones and check a fasting blood sugar. In short, I'm a pincushion. The non-grazing, hungry type.

For those who are following along at home, here's the schedule:
Wake up at Omygodit'searly and dip urine. Shake head at the ketones that appear there. Check fasting blood sugar while bleary-eyed and try not to miss the test strip. Eat "breakfast" which is now limited to only one carb selection, so no milk(carb) and cereal(carb) but half an English muffin with some Canadian bacon and cheddar cheese. Have coffee and put milk and a touch of sugar in it anyway. Go to the bathroom again. Fill up 32 oz water bottle for the trip to work.

Get to work. Go to the bathroom. Check sugar 2 hours after breakfast. Shake head how it's just slightly above the cutoff of 120, at 123. Figure that someone must have added sugar to the cheddar cheese. Drink water. Go to the bathroom again. Call diabetic center and enter readings on computerized system.

Get call back from an RN to discuss my ketones and elevated sugars in an attempt to regulate me better. She wants me to eat a snack before bed. I explain that I work till 6, don't get home till close to 7 and therefore don't eat till around 8 and that staying up till 10 to check my sugar is all I can do in my current state. She hmmms understandingly and advises a snack anyway, or maybe an extra snack in the afternoon. She says no milk and sugar in my coffee. She also tells me to drink lots of water. I stifle my reply.

Eat snack 3 hours after breakfast. This is not easy in a busy nursing area, but my manager has actually been great about it. Of course, the snack is 6 (low sodium)Triscuits (not five. Nor seven. SIX)and 1 oz of cheddar cheese so it doesn't take long. I can hear my arteries groaning. Drink more water. Another bathroom break.

Call husbandly one to inform him that I need to eat dinner earlier. Advise him what is ready for cooking and if he can oblige. He says he will.

Go to the bathroom. Eat lunch around 3 hours after snack. A nice healthy salad with protein - something I normally eat anyway - and a piece of fruit. The Propel water I bought the teenager and of which I snagged one to try is DISGUSTING. So much for that idea. Drink water instead. Go to the bathroom again. Fill up water bottle.

Another bathroom visit. This is getting old. Check sugar two hours after lunch. It's ... 96!!!! YES!!! The crowd goes wild and tells me to drink more water.

Another snack. This time it's my much loved cereal and 1% milk. Nature's Path Honey'd Raisin Bran, folks. I'll drive miles just to find it. You heard it here. Besides, I need the fiber. No need for bathroom just yet.

Go to the bathroom and then drive home. Grumble hungrily about the lack of fruit in my diet. Drink water. Wonder if my bladder will last the drive and thank the gods for the lack of traffic on 270 (for once).

Arrive home. No dinner is being cooked. Try to rush to bathroom and am interrupted mid-flight by Husbandly one who immediately enters kitchen upon my arrival with claim of "I'll cook dinner". I tell him it's not necessary as I'm here NOW ... the issue is eating dinner EARLIER. I tell him in caps, so he gets it. He insists guiltily on doing it anyway. I end up chopping the broccoli anyway as he protests he is unsure what to do. For a man who can figure out woodworking on his own, he sure is helpless. Leave him in kitchen so I can visit the bathroom. Finally.

Eat dinner at 7:30. Jr's friend is eating with us. Jr's chores are not done. I say nothing much. I eat too much protein but am very careful with the carbs. I fill up on veggies, which is fine, I love em. Drink more water. Eat two plums for dessert with the realization that I can!! Wooohoooo!!!! Fruit!!! We watch the Cowboys and Seahawks as I drink my water.

An hour later eat a half popsicle as Diabetic Educator has said anything 10grams of carb or under is a free food. Go to the bathroom. An hour after that, my sugar is 171. OOps. I stare at the watermelon in the refrigerator lovingly.

Call the diabetes hotline. She tells me to drink more water and still eat my evening snack. I dispatch my triscuits and cheese with gusto and drink more water. Go to the bathroom several more times between then and sleep time.

Sleep through the night without ONE bathroom break. I am amazed at that realization when I awake far too early on my day off. Pee. I have ketones again. Go back to sleep.

Wake two hours later and pee again. Ketones, same amount. Check my blood sugar ... it's 96!! Woohoooo!! Go downstairs and fix the other half of the English muffin with Canadian bacon and cheddar. Pour coffee and add a 1/2 tsp of sugar and a dollop of milk.

Realize the teenager has still not done his chores. Shrug and write this.

This just infuriates me

Read about this Navy couple's ordeal at the hands of the US government here. Damn it, it's the Talibanization of America, courtesy of Mr GW Shrub and cronies.

Our reproductive rights are slowly being eroded. Not to mention this government's perturbing drop in sense of obligation towards our military. Oh wait ... I forgot. This is the "family values" government. And the "support our troops" government. Right.

Thank you

I wanted to thank all of you who posted on the "why we are bitter - or not"thread. I really do appreciate your insight, even if I don't always understand. Trust me, when I thought I would never get pregnant - or never have one that would hang around - I hurt and was somewhat bitter too. It's more my lack of understanding of those who go to extremes in their aversion to pregnant women. I just don't get that.

Also, a big thank you to all your posts of support about the gestational diabetes - very very much appreciated. I'm slowly coming around to see that it's not a death sentence or even close. The big box o diabetic stuff arrived yesterday, so the glucometer is in the building, together with assorted pincushion stuff and ketone measuring sticks and a nifty lil urine dip cup. Uh-huh. I got a call from the diabetic educator and she is going to pop by tomorrow around 10am. Wow. An actual visit on a Sunday here in God's country.
I went through the stuff in the big box and I think it's going to be a major change in the way I eat. The more I think about it, the more I realize how dependent I am on bread, fruit and popsicles. I do eat a lot of salads, but lately I've been bad. So, hopefully the diabetic educator will be able to show me the way, the truth and the light. It wouldn't hurt me to eat better anyway.

His Highness was apparently insulted by the lack of concern for his wellbeing as he decided to give me a good scare, starting with a lack of significant movement last night after dinner (we went out for BBQ because our neighbourhood had a complete power loss till 2am) and continuing with a lack of significant movement well into this morning, despite drinking something cold and sweet (sorry, diabetes). At which point I called the OB - it took him a fair while to call me back and by then HH had decided to kick me several times in an "hahahaha, gotcha" kind of way.

The OB reassured me that I had done the right thing by calling - I told him that I had tried lying down, counting movements and all that and that the baby had been sluggish since last night.
I also told him that since I called, he had perked up a bit (of course) which OB was pleased to hear. He told me to ALWAYS call about this kind of thing. He also told me we could do one of two things - either come in to L&D right away, or wait another hour and count movements since the baby seemed to be "waking up". He wanted 5 movements in 30 minutes, 10 in an hour. If we didn't get that, to call him and make our way to L&D.

So, I went and laid down for a while and John cuddled me (that sweet man) and sure enough, His Highness started kicking like crazy and moving around. So, I'm still here. I do have an OB visit this week at which I will insist on an ultrasound check for growth. I want to know how big this youngun is, exactly. I don't think that's an outrageous request at ...*gulp* 30 weeks.

So again - my thanks to all of you for reaching out to me with support and love. I really appreciate each and every one of you.

It's official.

I have gestational diabetes.

I had a message on my voicemail last night from some home healthcare company, telling me my doctor (an OB at the practice, whom I've not yet met) had called to set up a visit with me - I assumed they had the wrong patient. That is until I called said home healthcare company this morning and found out I had failed my 3 hour GD test. I was rather ticked that I had found out that way, but a call to the doctor's office revealed their sheer astonishment that the healthcare company had called me that quickly as the RN had *just* been given the results herself.

Fasting blood glucose was 75, well within normal limits.
Blood glucose one hour post disgusting drink was 185. The range was 65-180, so not a terrible failure.
Blood glucose two hours post aforementioned vile and heartburn-causing beverage was 178. The range was 65-155. Oops.
My blood glucose after 3 hours was 132, or within the 65-140 range.

So, I will not be on insulin. I will be on a controlled diet. It seems that my insurance covers this 100% and I will be sent a glucometer to measure my blood sugar and that either an RN or a dietician will actually come to my home and go over everything with me. I know it will be doable - it's just a bummer and I've been trying really hard not to get too down and depressed about this. It's brought me a step closer to a c-section and I really don't want to go that route, even if it *does* give me an extra 2 weeks of short term disability.

My very sweet husband called me this afternoon to see if I was doing ok, then started telling me of all the risks of GD. It seems that after my rather terse and sad call to him with the news, he decided to get his degree in Google Medicine and spouted off to me in layman's terms all about macrosomy (large babies), shoulder dystocia (a shoulder displacement caused by trying to birth very large babies) and infant hypoglycemia - low blood sugar in the newly born infant, caused by too high levels of insulin as a result of high maternal blood sugars. He is very keen on controlling my sugars and I think he is darned sweet.

There is a decent article here about gestational diabetes, so I'll put it out there. Also here, an excellent overview and criticism. I have to admit, I was skeptical of my own results, but my two hour result does show some insulin resistance.

So, I'll be cutting back on fruit and popsicles which have been my two main squeezes this summer.

And, I'm sitting here trying not to get too depressed and wondering how I'm going to avoid a c-section. *sigh*.

I understand the pain ... it's the bitterness that eludes me

Most of the people who read this blog have come here from the shores of infertility or subfertility. Most of us have experienced difficulty with conception, pregnancy, or carrying to term. Some have had to use various degrees of technology to create what I assume most of us thought we be the simple act of reproduction. Most of us have suffered losses that could shatter your heart. Some of us have chosen to adopt. Some of us have chosen to let the dream fade. And the shades thereof are stunning - so many of us have traveled a path no one else has walked.

Maybe it's the "shades thereof" that makes it seem that there is a continental divide in the infertility blogosphere regarding pregnancy itself - which I don't understand. I don't get the hostility - maybe that's a strong word but it's there so I'm using it - towards pregnant women.

I know how hard this journey has been for me - that's all I truly understand in depth. I don't pretend to understand everyone else's pain but some things strike me as being odd. For example, what's with this supposed aversion to pregnant women rubbing their bellies? Why is that such a big deal? Personally, I deal with Braxton Hicks on a regular basis ... I rub because it feels better. Why are we only supposed to understand the side of the current infertile on this?

What's with the horror at seeing pregnant women at baby stores (or anywhere else, for that matter)of all places? I mean, really. I don't understand the visceral reaction to "seeing" pregnant women. Some of us who have suffered greatly are here now - is our past pain and current worry so much less than other's suffering just because we attained that elusive grail?

I do understand the pain ... the only time I ever felt a need to comment was after listening to a visiting drug rep at work blathering on and on about her pregnancy - and I do mean on and on ... I left the room at one point and came back later and she was still yammering in this oh-so-bright voice...when I had just come back from suffering another miscarriage. It was raw and visceral and I nicely asked her to take her conversation elsewhere. You would have thought I had two heads by the look she gave me but I didn't give a crap. But just seeing her there wouldn't have bothered me- if she had kept her idiotic yap shut.

But the bitterness ... it raises the spectre that no matter how close some are to actually having a child, or bringing one home - that the pain doesn't go away for them. And that saddens me more than I can explain.

There are things I would never do. For example, I would never bring a child to an RE's office unless it was absolutely, unavoidably necessary and I can't see that ever happening. I think that's way too painful for too many people. I would never go to an RE's office and sit in their waiting room in my current condition ... hell no. I never volunteer information about my pregnancy but I will answer questions if asked (and I am asked all the darned time, I deal with patients every day).

I try to be patient - I hear the "how old are you" in people's voices when they inevitably receive the answer to "Is this your first?" - but I also hear the "how exciting!" when I say "yes, it's our first at long last". I dealt with the insensitivity of people who just didn't understand that "relaxing" wasn't going to make this pregnancy happen (even from my own family, which has dealt with stage 4 endo, adoption and other miscellany and still doesn't "get it"). Or the silence from friends and family who didn't know what to say. And on and on ...

The incredible sorrow of being infertile- that I understand completely - it needs no explanation. But the sheer raw bitterness of some out there eludes me, even those for whom solutions and answers are imminent. Do you understand it? Because I would like to understand.

Guess who failed her one hour GD test?

Yours truly.

The cutoff was 139. I scored 149. The RN at the doctor's office asked me if I had been fasting and I told her that I had been. She said "oh, you weren't supposed to". To which I replied "it would have been helpful if someone told me that beforehand".

She apologized but the lab slips for the 3 hour test are on their way. Oy.

So, if I fail that ... no sugar/carbs. And no salt, because of my swelling. I think that leaves me with celery, a piece of chicken and some Mrs Dash.

I am readying myself for the inevitable. I understand I am supposed to load up on carbs for two-three days prior to my test (which will be Tuesday). Last night I had the last of the NY Super Fudge Chunk. This morning I am having a Montreal bagel (my apologies to those who have never experienced that particular glory). I will be buying a large watermelon this weekend and much summer fruit. May it never be said I wouldn't give my body for science.

A day in the life

A quick update before I completely zonk out.

07:30 - visit to the lab for dreaded gestational diabetes testing. Said visit included a disgusting orange drink and another pregnant woman in the waiting room who had two of her ex-utero already obese spawn with her as well, including one who kept throwing herself around the waiting room, desperate for anyone's attention. It was not good.
A brief bout of dizziness post 4 vial(!!!) blood-draw and I had to hang out a while longer. Joy.

09:30 - a return home to get my paperwork upon the realization that I had to go get my next Rhogam shot apres OB visit this afternoon. Then long drive to Rockville while feeling crappy.

10:45 - time of alleged visit to OB.

11:30 - actual time of entry into OB's office. Oh wait. I forgot the weigh-in, where I was informed I had gained SIX pounds since my last visit some 2-3 weeks ago. YIKES! I finally saw the OB - he was very nice as always and clucked concernedly about my trip to L&D. Then he clucked about my weight gain and measured my belly - I am measuring exactly 28 weeks - and the baby's heartrate was 140s again, stellar. My BP was fine ... but I have protein in the urine. And white cells. So, we've sent that off for culture. For those of you playing along at home ... protein in urine and weight gain ... 2 indicators for pre-eclampsia. Fortunately my BP was 110/70 but he sounded a tad concerned. He also told me that I MUST go eat, as I was feeling cruddy, post GD test. I go back in two weeks.

12:15 - visit to Japanese restaurant where I had soup and a small amount of sushi.

13:00 - Drive to nearby hospital for Rhogam shot as insurance won't reimburse the docs to give it in the office anymore. More blood drawn. I wait. And wait. And fall asleep. And wait. And realize my feet are slowly swelling.

14:45 - I am taken aside by the lab tech who tells me that my blood draw post amniocentesis showed that my Rhesus factor (the - or + in your blood) was a weak positive, so they gave the Rhogam. This time, she says, I am showing with a strong positive so I don't need the shot and she spoke to my OB who confirmed this. She offers to call the OBs office so I can speak to them and I do. I speak to the RN first, then the PA (physician's assistant) and relate my story to them regarding my O negative blood and the whole thing that happened in Canada. They then spoke to the OB who ok'd the Rhogam. Go back to sleep on the bench and wait.

15:20 - Finally get Rhogam shot on the "better safe than sorry" premise while people wonder aloud if I'm a mutant.

16:10 - arrive home and realize we are out of cat food. Remind a recalcitrant 16 year old to do his chores. Get back in the vehicle wearily and get cat food and a new catnip toy because my cats are my babies too. Mt feet are officially enormous.

16:40 - Fill cat food dish. Realize stepson is not wearing special Rx glasses. Ask him for whereabouts of said glasses. "I couldn't find them at mom's house". Father did not notice child was not wearing glasses upon picking him up yesterday. Call alleged mother who very snottily claims "he just won't wear his glasses (not that she would make him, or anything), they make him self- conscious. He wants lenses". Glasses were bought one month ago. There will be no lenses in the immediate future.

16:50 - Inform child that there will be no videogame playing as he has no glasses and that TV watching will also be curtailed. Reading will also be a problem.

17:30- Realize that child has left house without finishing chores. His father is now home. I am finishing this as child finally finishes chores and am ready to climb into bed.

17:40 - Realize that my stress level quadruples whenever Jr is in the house. Not good. Going to shut myself in my bedroom and feel sorry for myself. So much for my "day off".

Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zippo.

Nothing. I got nothing, I tell you. And I'm crabby, mostly because of the watermelon.

You see, I replanted one of the watermelon plants long ago when they were still in the sprouting phase because I knew there wouldn't be room for them all. I planted it in the side-garden and watered it faithfully and with love. And finally at long last, one small watermelon took hold. Until today, when John who has been painting the outside of the house, stepped on it.

I will say that he was abjectly sorry - in fact, he came indoors and said "you love me, right? Nothing will ever come between us, right? No matter what I do??" at which point yours truly realized what had happened and actually started to BAWL "Not my watermelon!!!! noooooOOOOOoooo!"

John feels terrible about it. And I am more upset than I should be, most likely.

And I am 28 weeks today and as the girls at work reminded me, I still have 3 months to go. Fuck.

Things I have started and not finished:

Painting the alleged baby's room because I am not sure the blue works for me. It seems too bright somehow.
Finishing the tomato sauce I began yesterday.
Laundry.
Cleaning.
Sleeping.
Kvetching and whining, obviously.

I did have a nice long intellectual post in my mind about the unpalatable political situation in the USA today, complete with a rant about John Roberts, George Bush, *coughcough"intelligentBULLSHITdesign"coughcough* and various other miscellany but they're all gone. I was also going to write about the recliner/rocker that I scored at a garage sale yesterday for ten bucks. But, all that remains is a very crabby, grumpy and upset 7 months pregnant woman who keeps avoiding her gestational diabetes test.

And can't seem to sleep more than 2 hours at a stretch. Oy.

I think I want my mommy.