and a Happy New Year

A small story from the other day - I ambitiously took Imri grocery shopping. Not a quick in and out, either ... but a serious order. He started fussing about 1/4 of the way through. I took him out of his carseat and held a nearly 15 lb baby in one arm, pushed the cart with the other. That was much fun and lasted until he got very hungry. He refused the bottle of cool breastmilk I foisted upon him, no matter how I tried. He got fussier and fussier, angrier and angrier and progressively more vocal about his situation.

Three quarters of the way through the Gi@nt Eagle found me in the paper goods aisle, sitting with half my butt gingerly parked on the shelving between large packages of B0unty paper towels, my shopping cart piled high with groceries and partially in front of me, obscuring the view as I breastfed my son.

The only thing that surprised me were the nice comments I got from some moms that walked by, smiled and basically said "you do what you have to do!". I was positive some mean soul was going to get nasty and do a mommy-drive-by, but I was pleasantly surprised at the support offered. And Imri was delighted at the availability of warm breast milk. There you have it.

We've been trying to get Imri used to his crib and its been hit or miss. Miss, mostly. The young man in question does NOT like being separated from his mommy. And daycare starts next week *insert howl of anguish from mommy here*.

Last night, Imri had his bath, then ate (only one side), fell asleep in my arms and I put him in the crib. That lasted 20 minutes. So, more rocking, he ate much more, singing, etc. Another 10 minutes. Then finally he went down for about an hour. I rejoiced but still ...that brought us to 11:30pm.

Considering that the night before he had us up every 15 minutes on the hour till 1am and the couple of nights before that weren't much better, I considered myself lucky and dragged my sorry and exhausted carcass to bed, avec my son, fed him and we both crashed. I guess I'll just keep trying to push it later and later. John hasn't been helping much over the last couple of nights because of the &^#%*@ college football games. Oh and his new DVD recorder/new computer. Whatever. I'm not doing this alone.

Yeah, you may be hearing some bitter. The husbandly one and I are having some issues, especially regarding his coping mechanisms which seem to be on a short fuse usually and more so of late. Not to mention the lack of smoking cessation. And, it seems the shorter fuse = more smoking than usual. And butts left on our driveway to multiply. In general, his shorter fuse makes me unhappy - I feel like I'm walking on eggshells some days and I don't like it, neither am I impressed.
Add to his smoking, the abundant family history of diabetes and heart disease (serious heart disease), as well as his eating habits - and hey, I feel like he's throwing away our years together. And if you read this (he usually doesn't venture here) my love, that hurts me beyond my ability to tell you without causing us further grief.
The following is an open letter to the love of my life. SKIP DOWN if you don't want to read my maudlin diatribe.

You are my sweetheart, my beloved. We got a late start on this love thing, you and I, which makes the time we have together all the more precious. You are the reason for so much of the happiness in my life. I love you with all that I am, and what I'm seeing you do to yourself hurts. You are killing yourself and I say this as your wife and as an RN.

I want to grow old with you. I want us to watch our son grow into the amazing and wonderful young man we know he is going to be, get married (if he so chooses) and have children - our grandkids - and for you to actually be there to revel in that sweet joy. And I want to be able to love YOU. Not your memory, not what we had, but you in the flesh and blood, even if we're both wrinkled, crinkled and scratchy. I don't want my senior years filled with visits to your headstone.

Yes, this diatribe is full of "I" statements, but it's you who is being selfish ... Imri needs his dad and I need my husband. And I am filled with fear, true fear, that I am losing you. Maybe not today or tomorrow but someday far far too soon for us.

I don't like airing our dirty laundry in public but I need to get it out somehow without either of us getting angry and defensive. I've suggested joint counseling and you've shot that down but I don't know what else to do to reach you and tell you how worried and scared I am. This is not exaggerating, sweetheart and deep in your heart, you know that what I am saying is true. I love you so much - please don't do this to yourself and to us. Please quit smoking. Please.

OK, END DIATRIBE.

On to other and better things - Imri has found his hands. This realization has helped him sleep in the crib unattended, I believe. He can self-soothe a bit now so I am quite happy. And on the "other" and not "better" - daycare starts next week when I return to work. Ack. We are meeting the daycare provider this Sunday in her home, just the three of us. It will let her get to know him, etc. However ...

Small problems with the whole daycare issue are these:
1. He doesn't sleep well alone and he still startles readily.
2. He won't take a pacifier.
3. He has stopped taking the bottle. (I went out and bought some new/other nipples, hth)
4. He likes being held. A lot. and he really likes interacting with people, not so much with his activity mat.
5. He's a snacker. Doesn't usually go for long feeds.

I think my kid is gonna fail daycare. Oy.
Thoughts? Ideas? Suggestions?


Found my hands!



Happiness



Out cold after a long fun-filled day

Happy Chanukah!

From all of us at Chez Chaos.

Under the letter O for "obvious"

Do not hold baby above your face as if "flying" right after feeding said baby.

See also: "oops",

See also: P for "projectile", V for "vomit" and &^@%#*.

Five things about me

As I mentioned previously, the gorgeous and talented Daytagged me with a meme, requesting that I share 5 things about me.

Five things. Man, I'm gonna have to dig deep, especially seeing as she did such a great job - and has such an interesting life. I am not so sure I do ...er... at least not stuff I want the general public to know about. But here goes.

1. I spent two years in the Israeli Army on the West Bank. All politics aside, it was probably one of the better times of my life.

2. I love food and find it extremely sensual. John says that my motto should be "life is too short for bad food and bad coffee". I'd take a serious cooking class if I could afford to do so. Unfortunately, I don't often have the time to cook as I would like - and besides, my husband thinks Kraft dinner (Mac and cheese to the Americans) is haute cuisine.

3. I am very pro-choice. Having found myself knocked up at the tender age of 16 and having to be "interviewed" by a committee of 3 men who had the right to decide whether or not I could have an abortion, opened my eyes to the lack of rights that women had - and have - regarding their own bodies and reproductive rights. Sadly, I find those rights - rights we have fought so hard for over the last several years - are being eroded in the USA. It makes me madder than I can say and my regret is that I don't have the money nor the time (nor the vote - yet)to devote to making my voice heard more loudly. Makes me question whether I should bother filling out those US citizenship papers.

4. I wish I was a kinder, more graceful and more patient person. I often wish I was more of a lot of things.

5. I never thought parenting would be so utterly wonderful. Yeah, it's hard. But I don't care. I never thought I could love someone as much as I love and adore my son. I never thought that I'd want to be a SAHM and definitely never thought I'd be nigh-hysterical at the thought of having to leave my boy with someone else.

Maybe that's more than 5 ... but there you have it.

In case I don't get back here on time, a happy and joyous holiday season to all my readers. Who knew last year, when we were in the depths of despair after another miscarriage that this year would bring Imri into our arms? I can never ever say "I'm not a lucky person" ever again.

Happy Hanukkah!!

Bonehead Maneuver #14,348

Ah, my wedding and engagement rings, I thought to myself as I smoothed lotion over my freshly-showered self. Imri snoozed nearby and I grabbed my beloved rings. It had been so long since I had a chance to wear them - they came off around 16 weeks into my pregnancy because of awful swelling. I had tried them on before, but they hadn't fit and I had put them away and waited patiently.

"I've lost 35+ lbs ... I'm SURE they'll fit NOW!"

I slid on my wedding band, a slender band of white gold and diamonds. It barely squeezed over my knuckle and landed in its place. "Snug but ok" I thought. And reached for the engagement ring despite the "Danger! Danger!" whispering in my teeny brain.

Two minutes later found me with my hand in ice water and the other hand on the phone to the emergency room, my finger swelling rapidly and turning different shades of colour, none of them good.

Ten minutes later found Imri and I in the SUV and headed for the emergency department, icepack held tightly in my hand.

The RN's words were "grossly swollen". His usual ring removal tricks wouldn't work - they had to be cut off. None of the really nice RNs laughed at me, in fact they shared similar stories. They asked me if it hurt and nothing really hurts but my pride.

I love my husband. He hasn't laughed at me once over this (wise man).

The good news? The rings are repairable (read: up-sizeable)and Imri finally pooped. It's only been three days. Three days worth of baby poop in one ...er... pooping. Oy.

I just wanted to wear my rings again. *sigh*

And that's my day so far. How's yours?

Happy mediums

I'm starting to think maybe I was raised by wolves.

Perhaps I'm being unkind to wolves in my assessment of their parenting skills, but I really am shaking my head after some comments by my mom and eldest sister.

Now I'll give them both the fact that it's been a long while (40 and 20 years, respectively)since either of them has raised an infant and attitudes and things have changed yada yada yada but seriously, folks?
Some of the comments have been as such:

"Wrap the baby up and leave him outside for a couple of hours - it'll do him good to get fresh air and you'll get a break". This said when it was in the 30-40s (Farenheit).

"You shouldn't feel like you HAVE to breastfeed - I mean, you need to take care of YOU!"

Her: "You shouldn't hold him all the time". Me: "But he's clingy and cranky and I don't think he's feeling well - besides, he screams when I put him down". Her: "Well, just put him in the crib and go out for a walk".

Me: "He just got his shots and is sleeping, I want to keep an eye on him". Her: "Put him in his crib and go to sleep yourself. He'll be fine".

(OK, maybe that last one isn't that big a deal when you read it, but it is to me. I am a mom and an RN, I am well aware - probably far too aware - of the many issues that can arise when it comes to vaccine reactions. And hell, I've been reading too many "don't vaccinate your kid" websites, I admit it. Besides, he doesn't sleep in his crib. Yet.)

So now I figure that I must have been left alone in my crib, screaming for hours in the cold Winnipeg snow. It stands to reason.

I'm just getting tired of the judgments that are being handed down by the Famiglia. Many warnings of how I needed to get Imri accustomed to the bottle - well, he took to it without any problems - or practice - when we were out holiday shopping in the mall. How he's "too clingy".
You see, I don't believe in letting babies this young "cry it out". Actually, I don't believe in CIO at all, at any age. I don't believe that infants should be left alone to scream. Nor do I believe that I am spoiling my son. Does he need to learn to go to sleep on his own? Absolutely. Does sticking him in a crib and letting him deal with the consequences at 8-9 weeks of age sound like a plan? Not even close.

Basically it boils down to this (and both Beaver Girl and Day seem to be addressing similar issues) - I am the parent and I will parent as I see fit. I may suck at it, but as long as my son is happy, well-fed, content and flourishing I can't be sucking too badly.

And according to the doctor, Imri is in the 75th percentile for height and weight and meeting all his milestones, so I'm thinking he's doing pretty well.

In the meantime, he got 4 (poor baby boy!) shots yesterday. DTaP, Polio, Hib (meningitis) and Pneumococcus. It was very important to me that he get his Hib vaccine, as I had meningitis as an infant and very nearly died. As a result - well, other than the obvious, I also have no hearing in my left ear. As for the others? I read up at this good site and made some decisions. The RN who administered the shots was very good at her work and I was thankful. Imri stopped crying after 3-4 minutes and only I was left with tears.

I gave him Tylenol in the doc's office around 11 am and figured we'd see how he did, rather than just dose him round the clock. He slept and ate and seemed pretty good, overall. At 4pm, just after a diaper change, he started to scream. I gave Tylenol quickly but the screaming continued. He screamed. And screamed. Imri is usually relatively easy to console and he was having none of it. I called the ped's office and after being on hold for 10 minutes and almost hanging up and driving like the crazed mother I am to the hospital, a nurse finally came on and basically told me to stick it out another 15-20 minutes and if he was still going for it, I should call back. Fortunately, after *only* 25 minutes of screaming, he finally quieted. His mother, however, was another story. Did I mention that during this time I kept trying to get ahold of John frantically, only to find he wasn't answering his cellphone? Yeah, that wasn't fun either. I was a mess of tears by the time he walked in the door.

Anyway, I dosed Imri again at 8 and again around 1:30 am, just to make sure he was ok. This morning his temp is 99.7 which is fine and I didn't give him any more - he's also been sunshiny, smiling, laughing and cooing.

Up till now, that is. I decided to start getting him used to being put to bed and soothing himself to sleep - that method where you put your baby down and let him know you're there if he gets very fussy, even pick him up and shush for a while but put him down again ... it took a good 45 minutes but he eventually did fall asleep. Poor little guy - crying with his eyes closed, he was so tired. I hate when he cries. But he did eventually fall asleep from sheer exhaustion - and he knew I was there the entire time.

I guess it's some form of happy medium.

Time for my nap too. Can't you tell?

Things you might need if and when your infant comes aka Amy, this one's for you - oh and some other thoughts too.

A couple of thoughts. I was asked by someone why I considered myself infertile (yes, I'm typing this one-handed as my son is sleeping in my arms) as my infertile history isn't as "lengthy" or as "dramatic" as that of others in my link list. Well, aside from debating whether or not that's a rather rude or immaterial question, I realized that I wrote a lot on another journal I used to keep and never transferred it here. I'm gonna try. Bear with me please.

Amy who asked for grrl's list - I have it but have no way of contacting you. Your profile is inaccessible. Let me know how to contact you assuming you're still interested. I can tell you a couple of things that saved me, however.

A bouncy seat w/vibrating mode. OH YEAH, baby. I have the FP aquarium one, he loves it.
PNP with vibrating mode (are you sensing a theme here?)
The swing? Not so much early on but better now. FP Aquarium one as well.
Washable changing table pads. Lots of em.
A good nursing bra. Seriously. I've just ordered a hands-free one for pumping. I hate the one I got at Targez.
Kolcraft infant carrier(infant car seat hooks on).
Washclothes!
Sleep sacks.
Laundry hamper - I bought a big white garbage can with a foot pedal because the laundry hampers at the accursed Wall of Marts had tiny openings, no foot pedals and clearly were NOT designed by a mom with a baby hanging off of her and poopy clothes in her hands. Plus they were more expensive than the garbage cans. Mine looks just like a laundry hamper anyway.
Nursing PJs!!- Can I emphasize this enough (if you plan on breastfeeding)? I had maybe one nightgown with a button-down front. Needless to say, that has changed.

Snugli -drives me bonkers just getting it on. It's a great concept and maybe the one I have is just wretched in design because when I do get it on, Imri loves it.
Boppy - not bad but it's soft and sort of "caves in" which isn't really conducive to great latch if breastfeeding.
My Brest Friend- atrocious name (who the hell is their marketing person???) but I found it useful during the first few weeks. Not so much now because I have fast let-down. But solid and it clips around you which frees your hands a bit.
Infant bath seat - ix-nay. First Safety, I think? Imri hates it and the suction cups just don't stay down. So I get in the bath with him and hold him - he tolerates it that way. I think it will get better when he's able to sit up on his own.

Diapers - we used P@mpers Sw@ddlers when he was newborn but once he started to grow, they leaked no matter how much we went up a size. So now we use Huggie$ $upreme and they rock. YMMV, of course.
Oh and Diaper bag - I ordered the Land's End do-it-all bag and while I love it, it's also quite large. A little too large, actually.

So there you have it. Oh and don't buy too many of those cute clothes - you'll get tons from friends and family.

While I'm talking baby - is there such a thing as an ongoing growth spurt? Imri wants to eat ALL the time. I know there's one at 3 and 6 weeks, 3 and 6 months, etc ... but he is 9 weeks now. Believe it. My son is 2 months old.

Since I seem to be addressing comments, one for David who seems to be perturbed that I am "knocking the US". Well, yes I am. And I shall continue to do so, as long as I feel it necessary. Just FYI, I am an equal opportunity knocker. I knock Canada when it screws up. I knock Israel as well. But on the issue of maternity leave (and healthcare but that's a whole nuther ball o wax), the United States of America is downright PATHETIC and I will say so loudly and clearly and shall continue to say so until someone hears me - and others - and things change. Which will be never because it's against business interests. Which seem to rule in this country above all else, even the welfare of children.

It behooves one to wonder (and I say this without any scientific evidence, I admit it freely)why the US has the highest rate of violent crime of any other Westernized nation - perhaps because moms have to go back to work far too fucking early??

So yeah, I prefer Canada and its social safety net because I believe that not only do citizens have a responsibility to their country, but vice versa as well. I realize that I sound like a flaming liberal (not that it offends me to be called that,I think being a social liberal is a good thing) but you'd be surprised how conservative I am fiscally. Just so you know.

Oh and don't get me started on the assholes who are upset at the Shrub's "holiday" card. Screw you and the horse you rode in on.

'Nuff said.


Oh shoot. Day tagged me. Wench. Next post.

He smiled at me

Really really smiled. Not once. Not twice. Three times in a row amidst a couple of awful/cranky/miserable (and sleep-deprived mommy)days.

All is forgiven, my son. Yes, that's all it takes.

Hedonism 101

Imri loves his food, oh yes he does. He's like mom that way ... more than he realizes. My son seems to be a hedonist.

I put him to the breast. He gets a true gleam in his eye and even before he started to smile for real, he would smile. It's just a look of pure happiness and joy. And then ... the ritual begins.

He sniffs my nipple as if to insure that this is not one of those imposter nipples - nope, it's the real mcdeal. Then he either gloms onto it like nobody's business if he's truly hungry - or, if not as starved, he runs his lips over it lovingly; once, twice, three times, shaking his head from side to side with accompanying sound effects, the gleam in his eye becoming a sparkle.

He licks my nipple once or twice, almost cautiously, then reassured again starts to suckle. And stops, as if he forgot something, raising his head and letting the nipple slip out. He nuzzles it several more times, sniffing as he goes, with the odd grunt or exclamation of glee, milk smearing all over his face. Then suddenly he attacks and nothing else matters - love is forgotten and all that is left is the need to fill his stomach.

If he loses latch or somehow the nipple slips out, he lets out a wail in short order, a wail reminiscent of tragedy, starvation, and a life of misery - unless it is reinserted quickly. To which he chortles with pleasure and gets back down to business.

Yeah.

Last evening I gave him a bath, in the hopes that the warm water would soothe him and perhaps I could put him down early (and in his crib, not John and my bed, AP parent that I am turning out to be)- around 8 or 9pm, have him wake around 11-12, feed and see how he does, either leave him in the crib or bring him into bed. Well, the first part went really well : bath, feeding and he fell asleep. I stole into the nursery around 8pm (we still don't have a rocker there *sigh*) and laid him down, sound asleep until about 8:25 when he started to cry because of gas.

Another feeding attempt yielded little sleepiness. Anyway, he promptly went into his dad's arms now because mom seems to be only synonymous with food. Currently he's screaming bloody murder aka "I'm hungry" although he has pretty much fed non-stop since 7:00. It's 9:30.

We went with the usual 10-11 pm sleeptime. In bed. With me. He finally slept ... after another feeding. But he sure smelled good.

Speaking of baths, he hates being put in the bath seat and screamed as if he was being tortured until I picked him up (I was in the tub with him) and held him, then took a bowl and poured the warm water over his body - which he absolutely loved. I mean ... he LOVED it, smiling as warm water cascaded over his nekkid bits. He cried when I stopped and took him out, only to coo at me when I gently patted him all over and patted his tuchas. You should hear him giggle at diaper change time. I kid you not - one of his favourite activities.

My son the hedonist. It's gonna be fun!

Air Imri

Imri is a very gassy boy. He doesn't have colic, but oh boy does he have gas. While he sleeps, I'll often hear him pass lots of gas - which is great, even though I wonder how one small boy has so much air inside his gut. And I mean a LOT of air. Oh yes.

But when he's awake and primarily when eating, gas becomes a big deal. He'll get red-faced and angry and start screaming (and snorting, making it worse)while trying to pass it. It's almost like he's saying: "OH MY GOD, there's AIR coming out of my BUTT!! AIR!!! Out of my BUTT!!! What fresh hell is this?? HELP! Please HELP!!"

It's very upsetting seeing him so frazzled over farts. Really. I try and soothe him, give him props for passing it,etc. - it works sometimes, other times not so much. Mylic0n drops help a little - maybe. Hard to say. I've read so many different things that either say "diet affects this" or "diet doesn't affect this" that I'm cross-eyed and still confused.

The one consistent thing I've picked up from reading the various baby experts is that this too shall pass - usually around 2-3 months of age. And then I thought ... Imri will be 7 weeks old this Friday - nearly 2 months old and hopefully, the gas terror is on its way out. But 7 weeks old - when the hell did that happen?

On the one hand, I'm relieved that this misery may be on its last legs for his sake, and while I am delighted at seeing the changes in my boy as he grows - I looked at some of the outfits he wore only a couple of weeks ago and they are too small. He doesn't look like a newborn anymore. He is growing and changing - smiling when I smile, laughing frequently ...so many changes, so quickly - it's wonderful and difficult, all at the same time. I guess I finally understand what every mom told me "cherish it because it passes so quickly".

So quickly that I had my post-partum checkup yesterday. Imri came with me in his stylish outfit and new "shoes". It went well and the doc even commented on how beautiful he is, totally unsolicited. He better be, she delivered him. Still, the appointment was one more thing that carries the stamp of "time is passing quickly". Which is bad because work looms ahead.

I dread having to go back to work. DREAD it. I try not to think about it because it's the absolute last thing I want to do. If we lived in Canada, I'd have a whole year of paid leave (which Canadians pay into with mandatory payroll deductions - it's not just for mat leave but unemployment, etc) to care for my baby, rather than pay for someone else to care for him. Here in the land of "family values" I only get my saved vacation time (and I had used up a large chunk of that with the last miscarriage) and what I have paid for out of my own pocket - a measly 6 weeks, which insurance has cleverly cut to 5 weeks "oh yes ma'am, 6 weeks minus your 'elimination' period of 7 days". Bastards. I'd like to show them what elimination really means. Yeah. I mention to John frequently that Canada is a brighter option for so many reasons, this just one of them.

Oh, and hon? If you read this? Happy Anniversary :) And yes, let's seriously consider Canada, ok?

Anyway, I didn't write this to be a kvetch-fest, but rather to talk about gas - because really, what mother doesn't want to discuss her child's GI tract on the Internet? And I've done that, so now to the pictures - because that's why you're here, isn't it?



Nice shoes, huh?

Anal retentive

You know that trick that you're told NICU nurses do with babies? The one where you use a rectal thermometer to gently stimulate the pooping reflex if need be?

Oh boy, does it work.

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.