Sorry to worry so many of you ... and thank goodness for long weekends. Without them, I'd get little done. In the civilized country of Canada, there is a long weekend every month, May through October. *sigh*. Think of all I'd get done ...
We are better. Still struggling but better.
Imri is growing like a weed. He is cuter than cute and full of 2-3 year old defiance and "I do!! I do!!!" whenever we want to do things for him. I am a touch concerned about his level of aggression but we just keep repeating our mantra of "gentle" and enforcing time outs when necessary. He is firmly ensconced in his big boy room now (after a month hiatus when we just gave up and decided to revisit later. Smart idea.), sleeping in his car bed and gravitating into our bedroom semi-frequently in the early morning hours. He is delicious.
Carmel is also growing in leaps and bounds. She is determined to walk before she crawls and is sort of teetering on the boundary of both those activities. She would rather stand than sit and loves snuggling with mommy ... but we are slowly getting her into the crib at night. I learned ... well, semi-learned - the danger of waiting too long with that. It's still difficult and we're not past her being there only in the first part of the night but with time this may change. Hopefully.
The two kids have started playing together this weekend and it is utterly wonderful to see. Carmel adores Imri and follows his every move and Imri feels very special and important when he sees how Carmel worships him. So they play a little and I shep nachas.
We went to Canada for Passover and had her naming ceremony at a synagogue there - it was a beautiful ceremony and I felt very lucky and even blessed (and I use that word cautiously). Check out the picture, you won't get to see me wearing a tallis very often. Or John wearing a kippah, for that matter. It was also good to see the family whom I miss every day more and more. I'd love to get out of this place and move back. Hopefully very soon. One day.
Work is work. Too much crap, not enough money, as always. The commute is killing me - the ridiculous cost of gasoline has John and I commuting together. I am looking for something closer to home. John needs to do that too but he has been where he is for 15 years and is reluctant. Understandable but his commute is 120 miles round-trip every day. Yikes.
The cost of gasoline is also putting a substantial crimp in our budget, as I'm sure it has done to every other middle class (hahahahaha, as if) family out there. We are being squeezed tremendously. Between our mortgage, the cost of daycare (which we refer to as our second mortgage, no joke), the cost of gasoline and the cost of basics, there isn't anything left over. Nothing.
It ain't easy.
Which, when you boil it down to the nitty gritty, means that I won't be seeing the new Indiana Jones movie until it has its television premier.
Oy.
Where to start? With my wonderful, growing kids? My insane life? My terrible loneliness? The wreck of my marriage? I just don't know anymore.
It's hard to know which way is up. Some days I just feel like I can't breathe and there is no escape. No place in which to find greener pastures and a fresh breeze, nowhere to find a place to lay my head for a few moments and ... stop.
Our financial situation has taken a severe toll on our marriage or more properly, on my view of our marriage. I blame my husband for our dire straits ... for not managing us more carefully, for not understanding the concept of "restraint" and waiting for wants, rather than having to have them immediately. But I am not faultless. He blames me, my staying part-time while Imri was in his first year ... and fails to see that the warning signs were there long, long before that.
Carmel still sleeps with me and my husband refuses to share that bed. So sex has been non-existent ... not to mention that I am constantly exhausted. Beyond exhausted, actually. I rise at 5:45 - after being up many times with either child, get every one's lunch ready, get me ready, shower if I have time which I often don't, and take off with the kids. Drop them at daycare around 7:30-7:45 and head to work. Get there around 8:30, usually late because of traffic. Work like a dog till 3:30. Get back in the car, pick up the kids and get home between five and 5:30. Dinner occurs sometime between 6 and 7. Bedtime starts around 8 - Husband gets Imri down to sleep... and I usually fall asleep, exhausted, with the TV on and Carmel beside me.
My bad for not trying to get her into her crib/bassinet before now.
But Imri's big boy room is finished now and he slept there for the first time last night. I didn't try and get Carmel in her bassinet last night, so I guess I'm evil but I was exhausted.
Imri also started going in the potty ... not religiously but a start. He is in the throes of two-dom and is a delight when he isn't having some form of conniption.
Carmel is six months and a delight. Eating solids, wakes up laughing, happy happy child. And beautiful, too.
And my husband is bitter because we haven't had a marriage for some time now. He says two years, which is an exaggeration, of course but it is to him what it is. So any issue I bring up brings up the lack of sex, lack of adult relationship, etc. And today he throws some shot at me about making a permanent bedroom in the basement if I don't move Carmel into the bassinet soon and he just doesn't care anymore because he has nothing and has been very patient, etc.
I guess I am sitting here thinking ... "and what do I have that you don't?". I never get time for me. Never. I had a haircut at the barbershop today after Imri's haircut because I was desperate. I never buy myself anything and have no money anyway. I never go anywhere. And the infertility bulletin board which I helped administer has gone in a path that I don't appreciate so I left that.
I have no friends nearby - not that I ever get time to spend with them if I did and I am too emotionally exhausted to reach out anyway. My relationship with my family in Canada is currently very strained so no outlet there. Besides, Canada isn't even an option because of our financial situation - that's gotten messed up badly.
I'm looking for new jobs that would take me away from my family during the weekends or nights or what have you so we can lose the cost of daycare as we're sinking ... I could go on.
So it seems to me that he wants sex. And I am miserable and couldn't care less. And now I feel that I have to go there just to regain my marriage and that doesn't make it sexy.
A rat in a cage, I am. Stress and pressure from all sides and no outlet. My psoriasis is the worst it has ever been in my life.
Sorry for the downer. Not that anyone reads this anymore, I'm sure, I just had to write it all out. My kids are the only thing that make this life worth living right now. I am keeping it together, somehow. For now. It's gonna shatter soon, I think.
I've waited to hear that for so many years ... needless to say, (although I will anyway) that I burst into tears of joy. Sure, he's said it before but he is just now "getting it". My Imri is a sweet kid. We seem to be settling into a pattern of sorts - he is definitely happier that both he and his sister go to daycare, as opposed to him going and Carmel getting to stay home with mommy. The jealousy is there but it isn't as ferocious. I wish that could be attributed to good parenting, and maybe it can be, I just don't know. It could just be inertia. At least some of that terrible aggression towards yours truly has abated.
He is growing by leaps and bounds and I could go on and on brag brag but suffice it to say that he's smart, clever and sharp as a blade. And sweet. Which makes it extra nice. Sure, we have our fair share of meltdowns and "no!!" but he tends to come around fairly quickly.
Speaking of growing by leaps and bounds, anyone have personal experience with the Graco Nautilus? Imri has pretty much grown out of his Roundabout and Carmel out of her infant seat ... *sniff*
Carmel is cutting teeth and it's not fun for her, or for me. Why me? Because I decided to make the same "mistake" as I did with her brother and keep her in bed with me. Yes, we co-sleep and I am cursing myself at the same time that I rejoice at snuggling with her.
There was little snuggling last night, just boob-seeking, whimpering and much tossing and turning. Have I mentioned gas? She is one heck of a gassy baby and her farts are hellacious. Yowza. That doesn't help. So I am one tired mama today. Hasn't seemed to affect her mood at all, thankfully.
She is getting big, though. I have started putting her in the jumperoo and she adores it, just like Imri did. She jumps and laughs and is generally happy, which is nice coming from the kid who loves to be held. I think solids are coming up soon for her. Maybe today, if I stay awake long enough to go to the grocery store.
The resemblance between my two kids is uncanny, actually.
At least I think so.
On other topics ... Hillary? Barack? I don't know. I'm just glad we're debating between a woman and a person of colour. And may I just mention that every single candidate on the Republican side scares me?
And man oh man, we could use those rebate cheques ... *sigh*.
Sorry, gang. Life has been good ... and very tough at times. Chaotic, even. I haven't felt much like writing. At the same time, I have felt like writing but have been busy. Hah. I know. Consider Jen, with triplets and a small one and she still finds the time. I am a different story, it seems.
We went through a very difficult time financially over the last several months. Fortunately (or not, depending on your perspective), it is all coming to an end soon, with various legal machinations. It sucks but it was our only alternative. We actually came close to losing our home, so I am elated and delighted that we managed to avoid that - and by the skin of our teeth, no less.
Because of that, the holidays were a subdued affair for us this year, although I did manage to sell a bunch of stuff on Ebay, enabling us to get Imri some small gifts. Also, good friends came through for us in more ways than I can count, financially and otherwise, to make sure that our kids had a great holiday. I am rich in friends and in love and while it would be nice to be rich in ... er ... riches ...it is good to be loved.
That crap is the main reason I haven't felt like writing. Also ...too tense, in knots, stressed and angry, working full time and exhausted. Yeah. And grateful for what we do have. In other words, I've felt torn into bits on so many levels I haven't been sure which way is up.
In other news, Carmel is thriving. She is a sweetheart - fairly laid back and happy unless beleaguered by gas. She's adjusted to daycare rather well. I am slowly getting her on formula as my supply has dropped right off, and my supply of domperidone is gone now - and too expensive for me to replenish. But whoooooeeeyyy, talk about stinky farts. Yowza. i don't remember Imri being this stinky on formula, but then he went on breast milk only at 6 months of age, as opposed to Carmel's 3.5 months.
Her four month visit found her at 14.7lbs and 25 inches, both 75th percentile and Dr Wonderful was delighted with her. She is babbling nicely and trying to sit up and I believe she is starting to teethe. She also loves to try and swallow her hands whole. Her smiles are more elusive than her brother's at the same age, but just as brilliant.
Imri is doing well. He had a bad respiratory infection a few weeks ago with a terrible cough and he ended up needing a breathing treatment at the doc's office. But no asthma, just that one isolated incident. He is growing like a weed, 35lbs and 36.5 inches tall, rambunctious and full of life. He is constantly testing testing 1,2,3. Which is hard when you're stressed, exhausted and plumb worn out. But he is wonderful, verbal and a cutie pie to boot. His language skills, which have always been strong, are quite formidable now and accordingly, his favourite books are Seuss and Silverstein. Favourite toys are Thomas (of course) and anything vaguely monster-truck related. Especially Grave Digger. Those of you in the know are already nodding sagely, I know.
So that's that. The Redskins blew it yesterday but at least my beloved Canadiens are faring better.
Oh, and boggle on Facebook is highly addictive.
That's all, folks. I'll try and post more frequently but make no promises. Thanks for caring so much.
Monday I go back to work. Eight short weeks ... with Imri I had 12. But money is much tighter this time around.
It's killing me. Each time I think about it my heart starts racing, tears well up and my palms go sweaty. 8 weeks old. She is tiny ... too tiny to leave her mommy's arms.
It's killing me.
Carmel has started smiling at me. She coos and kind of chortles a little. Her temperament is definitely her own - a bit more high maintenance than her brother was. 0-60 in no time flat ... and then it's hard to get her to calm. Early intervention is key with my "just-so" girl. She does have lots of gas and some spit up ... something I never saw with Imri. But for the most part, she is content.
Carmel, you are beyond sweet - so tiny, so cute, so obviously alert and bright. Your face lights up at the sight of me, at the bright lights around you, at the colours on your play-mat. We are just getting to know one another, you and I. I can't stand the thought of leaving you with someone else.
And I have to leave you.
It's plain wrong.
I found a nursing school girlfriend by chance the other day, while surfing the web. She lives in Canada and is home on maternity leave with her second child, who was born in May. Because Canada supports families who have children by giving paid maternity leave.
My daughter was born in September and I have to go back to work. Because here, in one of the richest and most powerful countries in the world, there is no mandated maternity leave, paid or otherwise. In other words, the US government for all its "family values" talk, doesn't give a shit about families.
It's easy to go on and on about cells multiplying in the uterus ... doesn't cost a thing. But when the money needs to go where the mouth is, this government is strangely silent. Unless it comes to asking Congress for even more money for a war we shouldn't be in, in a country whose people don't want us. But care for our own families?? Nah. Why bother? Too expensive. So veto the s-chip bill, Georgie, why don't you, block children's access to health care ... but yell really loud about abortion rights because that costs you nothing.
Yes, I'm not happy. I can't stand the thought of leaving my infant daughter in daycare, all because I'm living in the wrong country. I told John that we are going to be back in Canada before Imri goes into first grade. Non-negotiable.
Please send us good wishes.
My little boy is getting big. Yes, he's still little, only two now, but when I look at his sister, he's practically ginormous.
Imri, you can jump now ... both feet off the ground. Your vocabulary (yes, I know, I know, I brag about this a lot)is incredible and expanding every day. You can tell us colours and are getting shapes under your belt. Numbers still need some work - not the recital of their names which you do fairly well, but the comprehension of their meaning. You sing songs; ABC, itsy bitsy spider, etc. You sit down with books and "read" them.
You are my special boy, Imri ... even if you drive me to distraction some days. Mommy is still the target for your displeasure with the change in our lives, aka Carmel. We are slowly getting there but it's tough for you some days. I did see an inkling of love when mommy went to leave Carmel in the infant room of the daycare center for a brief moment - you got all upset that Carmel wouldn't be coming with us. That did make me smile.
Your birthday was last Sunday and we celebrated in style. Train style, that is, one of your favourite things. Unfortunately, you woke up with a bad cold but we celebrated anyway. Here are some of the highlights.
Other than a few tantrums, a bad cold and two year old crap, we had a lovely day.
After breakfast Imri opened his first present ...
He loves this table, seriously. He does have another train table but it is higher off the ground and hard for him to use, so this was a great find. Not to mention I got it cheap off of Ebay. All we had to do was drive to Baltimore to pick it up.
After that, we went to the nearby Train Station - it's not an active railroad, but there is a museum and they run trains on the weekends during the fall and summer - it's an hour long ride and very nice. They also host birthdays on the caboose, something to consider in a couple of years time.
Imri and Daddy on the caboose
Here is Imri sitting on the seat in the train, eating goldfish.
And yes, that is a Thomas snack holder.
Imri fell asleep halfway through ...
yes, those are Thomas sneakers ...
He woke up when we got off and went to see the engine. The conductor and engineer took him up into the engine!
The engineer even tooted the horn!
We toured the older trains that aren't being used anymore
It was great fun! Then we went home and had cake
And mommy and daddy spoiled a small boy rotten with another present ... a trike!
Here's daddy taking Imri for a ride - the trike has a steering wheel for the parents ... very nice.
And in the end ... he'd rather play with sticks ...
And yes, that is a train on his shirt. What can I say?
We are moving along nicely at Chez Chaos. Carmel is growing nicely; she has her first month appointment on Friday and I am looking forward to finding out her weight gain as she is no longer as light as air, the little porker.
We are still struggling with her tummy issues: discomfort, lots of gas (some quite smelly), straining and grunting, some greenish poops. I did a bunch of reading as is my wont, and found out that it may be due to overactive letdown (and therefore a foremilk/hindmilk imbalance, perhaps), which I definitely have. I've been trying to do different things to make it better for her but it doesn't always seem to work. I've tried frequent burping (not a good burper, not my girl) but when she doesn't burp - and I try in a variety of positions - do I put her back on the boob so she can get the hindmilk?, pumping first (if I can), feeding while reclined, delatching and relatching ... any other thoughts out there?
Other than that, I can really see how she's growing and changing. She's filling out - what were scrawny chicken legs are getting plump and strong, her little cheeks are cherubic and chubby and she is awake more often now. She is alert and watchful and really doesn't like it when she can't see what's going on around her. And, she's starting to recognize her mommy. This morning, I saw *something* in her eyes when she saw me ... a glimmer of a smile and what I swear is recognition. I'm not just saying that because I'm her doting mother, either. She does recognize me by sight.
She's also starting to hold her head up really well. Tummy time this morning netted us head position changes from side to side and more vocalizing. And i finally clued into the fact that she's not a bouncy seat fan but loves the swing. I'm loving this, I really am. I am so enjoying my daughter.
This afternoon she actually grabbed for my hand as she curled up in my lap after nursing. *sniff*
Life is damned good, have I mentioned that?
Imri has good and not so good days. His language skills are amazing - at least to us. He speaks in complete sentences now and they get more complex by the day, it seems. He is also counting well "one, two, three, five, six, seven, nine, ten". Not bad. He has the colour "red" down pat, and usually "green" too ... blue and green can be interchangeable. Yellow is a whole nother ball game. He is still trying to sort out the whole Carmel thing and where he falls on the continuum. We constantly give reassurances as to his place in our hearts, but heck - it's damned hard being nearly two.
After all, being two means wielding some serious power. Like the power of "no". A potent word which stops big people in their tracks. Even if you're saying no to something you actually want, it's still pretty cool to say it and see the results.
Hence the defiance thing, so I've been trying to de-escalate by counting to three. As in "ok, I'm going to count to three. You need to get off of the table or you'll go to time-out. One ... time to get off the table. TWO ... time to get off the table ... two and a half! ... "
Usually that's as far as we go. For now.
But it's still worth every darned minute of frustration. Every damned minute.
It was approximately 7:30 pm. I was exhausted. Carmel had been very fussy with gas and frequent poops, and difficult to console at times and Imri was pushing my buttons as only a 2 year old can do. He was playing with all the stuff he knows he shouldn't play with; the phone, the remote control, the baby's car seat and bouncy seat, etc etc etc.
I decided to head upstairs as the baby was relatively quiet, with the faint hope of stealing a little early evening sleep. John decided to take Imri upstairs and get him ready for bed, too. We all trooped upstairs and I started to change Carmel on our bed.
John has Imri on the changing table and calls out to me "Is someone knocking?" I didn't hear anything and told him as much. A few seconds later, I do hear a knock but I'm mid-swipe with the diaper kit and ignore it. Then John calls out "Do you want to get the door?" just as the knocking gets very insistent. And loud. I can't help but wonder WTF is knocking on our door at 7:30pm and why in the world J would think that I could get the door, when I'm changing the tuchas of a newborn ...
The knocking becomes kind of pounding and J grabs Imri and heads downstairs. I hear male voices speaking but can't make out what is being said but it sounds official. Carmel is now changed and I head downstairs, worried.
There stand two of Maryland's finest in our doorway. "Is everything ok here, Ma'am?" the one queries and I look at him blankly and answer that yes, everything is fine ?? "There was a 911 call from this residence, Ma'am." "No Sir, not from here!" The officer confirms with dispatch that indeed, a 911 call came from our number.
Then the light dawns. I look at J, J looks at me and we grin. "I think it may have been our toddler, Officer! We are so sorry!". I go and grab our phone, the object of Imri's earlier attention and hit the redial button. Sure enough, the numbers 9111111111111 flash at me. I look at Imri, sitting in his daddy's arms and laugh.
We apologize profusely and the officers laugh it off and depart.
Now we just have to train Imri to do it when it's actually needed. And hope that the ETA of the cops gets better ... it took a good ten minutes or more for them to show up to a 911 call.
And yes, I am both fat and tired. But so wonderfully happy with my children beside me. My children! Yeah, 'happy' doesn't quite cut it.
Carmel is sick. Imri brought home a cold from daycare and it migrated, of course. She's not that bad, just a stuffy/runny nose and a tiny cough that would be cute if it didn't signify illness.
No fever ... just a virus, more than likely. I'm really hoping that it passes quickly for her and for her brother, so that when I get it, I won't have to worry about the kiddos.
She is also terribly gassy. I'm really hoping this phase passes quickly because the need for sleep is killing me.
Imri has a runny nose and a cough too. Oh, and a huge chip on his shoulder. It seems to be much harder for him over the weekends, when what was his "mommy and daddy time" has now been partially usurped by a crying stranger. He has a myriad of ways of showing his displeasure with the stranger, including throwing things in her general direction (the phone, an empty cup, etc), running his trucks into her car seat as she naps within, etc. We've tried positive reinforcement for good behaviour, time-outs, one-on-one time, etc. Nothing seems to work for any long-term period of time, especially when he realizes that the stranger is still here when all is said and done.
It ain't easy being nearly two.
Or being the parents of said child ... I've lost my temper a couple of times - not good. No, I'm not a perfect parent. I'm sleep deprived and moody and having trouble with the person who was previously my sun-shiny child. I lose it sometimes, and yell. And it upsets me - and it upsets Imri, obviously. Calling it "human" is true but it doesn't help me parent my beloved boy any better.
Thoughts?
This time two weeks ago, I was pacing anxiously, waiting for the hospital to call. All the anxiety, the stress and finally ... the c-section. All they had to say was "risk of contracting meningitis" and it was decided.
I'm still not terribly happy with the way it went - not the multiple spinal stick attempts by the anaesthesiologist, although that SUCKED. I had been pretty specific about wanting my daughter with me afterwards but they took her to the nursery with John in tow, and the doc needed to tie my tube and sew me up ... I guess it was to be expected but I kept asking for her in the recovery room. They finally did bring her to me just as we were to go to the post-partum area, I'm not sure how long it took all in all. It wasn't awful but I did want to hold her longer than the 2 minutes I got in the OR.
But ... she is beautiful (as you've seen) and perfect and I am in heaven, seriously. A lot more relaxed than I was with Imri, partially because my parents aren't here and I don't have to plan a bris, partially because I am not freaking out over what I should be doing next. I'm just letting Carmel be Carmel. Heck, I even took a nice shower this morning and it lasted longer than 30 seconds. I remember with Imri, I'd barely let the water wet me down before the guilt struck and I felt the need to go to him, even if he was sleeping in the car seat right in front of me.
Other than that, I am healing well and rapidly. I feel good. Still a lot of weight to come off but then, I expected that. At least the swelling has gone down. I won't be as foolish as I was after having Imri, but I'd love to wear my rings again. Ah well. I am grateful that Imri is in daycare ... I can't imagine doing this with a nearly two year old present.
Imri is slowly getting back to himself. He is definitely in the throes of the Terrible Twos but we are trying to get a handle on parenting this small person with new behaviours. As a friend of mine wisely said, "this is not who he is, it's just a phase he's going through". It must be awful to have so little within your control. I try to give him choices but he doesn't quite get the concept of "or" yet.
It's definitely challenging - last night he started crying for "dinner, dinner" and ran towards the kitchen just as John came to announce that dinner was ready. Imri then backed up and started crying "no, no!". So I told him that was fine, but mommy and daddy were going to eat "brats" (a favourite supper) and he could join us when he was ready - to which he danced back and forth, depending on which way I stepped. Towards him and he ran away - towards the kitchen and he too, went that way. Finally John just scooped him up and because he was hungry, he didn't do his new "help, I've fallen and I won't let you pick me up" trick.
I won't talk about the new "I'm not gonna go to sleep and you can't make me" stuff.
He's still a total lovebug though ... and we're hoping he will overcome this trauma in time and with our help and love. He's definitely affectionate with his sister but it's obvious that she's not his favourite person, either.
Time. Just time. And maybe some fine single malt, too.
May this New Year bring us all joy, happiness, and prosperity. And may all our dreams come to bountiful fruition ...
Just a quick note to say that our daughter, Carmel Maor, was born via unexpected c-section on Tuesday. She weighed in at 6lbs, 9oz and is 19 & 7/8 inches long. She is beautiful! She does have a touch of jaundice but we are hoping it will pass quickly and not be anywhere as bad as Imri's was.
She is eating well and my nipples are rather mangled, but this too shall pass.
Imri entered the Terrible Twos while I was gone, replete with "NO!!!" and throwing himself on the floor as to hamper our ability to move him. Where do they learn that stuff? I'm sure he's never been to a WTO riot in DC yet. He alternates between giving his sister kisses and screaming "NO baby!!" when I come into his room in the morning. But at least he's forgiven me for leaving him ... he really had a tough time without mommy, despite the presence of grandparents and his dad.
My parents left today and while I am grateful for all they did and that they were here, it's nice to have the house back and to get our family back into a routine again.
Ahhh routine. I'm guessing that will return in 3-5 years or so.
My daughter is home. My daughter. Words I never thought I'd ever have a chance to say. The feelings of gratitude and over-whelmedness are beyond my inadequacy with language.
Will try to keep the Internets posted but bear with me, please.
I am sitting here, sipping on good coffee (ain't gonna happen at the hospital)and watching Imri watch the Wiggles on DVD. And why yes, I do feel as large as Dorothy the Dinosaur, thank you for asking.
Tomorrow is D-Day. Or should I say A-Day. My 'rents should be here sometime tonight and we have the computer room ready for them to take over. Well, mostly ready. It's just easiest to have them down on the ground floor where they don't have to maneuver baby gates and climb staircases. Yeah, I'll lose my computer after 8:30pm, but don't I now?? I'm more concerned about Imri not having his morning DVD ...hmmm. Maybe we should move a comp into the living room?
Ack.
No laptop here, sadly.
I am very swollen and puffy these days, the fluid (and food and salt intake) have finally caught up with me. If I was headachy and nauseated I'd probably be more concerned but baby girl is moving well so ... all systems seem go. The big question is if they will let me deliver vaginally or not. I'm off the Lovenox (insert big effing happy dance here!)and on other medications as prescribed so ... we shall see. I have to call into L&D tomorrow and see if there's room for my fat tuchas ... and the baby. Here's hoping they don't tell me to come in at 8pm or some such. I can't fathom sitting around all day waiting for the ETA.
With my parents. Who will likely be more nervous than I. As will my husband.
My bag is packed and there are a miscellany of presents for a small boy from an even smaller girl. And a small, pink and soft stuffed animal for a tiny girl from her big brother.
Send us good wishes and luck!
"You're one cm dilated".
I nearly fell over. After all, my cervix was long and closed just last week. I guess all that coughing did its job.
Also, GBS negative, platelets holding around 100,000. So, it looks like we're on for Tuesday. OB wants to do a Foley balloon induction with pitocin. I've done a little reading and lean more towards Foley without pitocin to start.
Any thoughts out there? BTDT moms?
Now to get the house ready. No, not for the baby's arrival. For the arrival of my mother, of course ...
Tuesday. Ack.
I'm finally starting to feel better. The cough belays that but ... it too is better. At least I'm not in danger of running out of incontinence pads again. Kleenex, maybe.
Imri is better too and that is the best news. I just seem to have gotten this illness a lot harder and heavier than anyone else. What can I say? I have a crappy immune system at the best of times, never mind when pregnant. It would just be nice to get a few consecutive hours of sleep without waking from coughing or needing to pee. Or from a small boy calling for his mommy at 3:30, 4:00, 5:00 and 5:45. Not sure what that was about last night.
Monday had me at Dr High Risk's office for my last NST - baby once again scored 8 of 8 and it was my favourite sonographer this time. There were many tears and hugs and I've basically been told "send us pictures!". They're done with me. Unless my platelets drop further.
Last check they were 94,000. I think I am having them redone tomorrow, probably before my last OB appointment prior to induction. *gulp*. If they stay low, steroids will be coming my way. But it looks like Tuesday is a go. *gulp*. Last time it was "hey, your fluid is low, off to the hospital with you NOW". I sort of prefer that to this waiting game.
Imri is growing by leaps and bounds, primarily in his language skills. John and I are pretty blown away by the things he says, yet when I come here to detail his many delights, they seem to escape me. One of his cuter escapades involved him requesting some papers from my desk. When denied his request, Imri said "Imri have them". I replied that no, they were not his. He looked concerned. "Imri want them!" was the next statement, made with some urgency. I replied with a slightly melodic version of a well-known Stones tune. Imri became very upset. He looked up at me and said seriously and emphatically .. "Imri NEED them!!!!"
At which point John and I both lost it.
He is growing up in other ways, too. He used to always rock to sleep in John or my arms ... now he wants us to put him in his crib and fall asleep that way. *sniff*. I miss those snuggles, even if it has grown quite difficult with the size of my belly.
And I am trying not to think of the challenges of keeping two under two happy. Yes, I am frightened. Terrified, actually. La la la la la nothing to see here, move along ...
I will keep The Internets posted about my OB appointment tomorrow.
This sucks. I have a full-out, full-blown cold/flu/respiratory infection, complete with dripping nose, hacking cough and accompanying crud. Can't sleep except for sitting up and we all know how restful that is. The violence of the coughing fits is only surpassed by the need to wear a pad. Constantly. Because I have no bladder control anymore, so it seems. One of the docs at work took pity and gave me an Rx for antibiotics. And a prescription hemorrhoid cream. I'm just saying.
Fuck.
My visit to Dr High Risk started out with an absolutely lovely drive down I-270 in the rain, together with 100,000 of my other driving cohorts, none of whom seemed to grasp that a light drizzle really doesn't necessitate driving at 20 mph. Honest. Somewhere in the midst of which, my beloved husband who was driving our son to daycare, called me to tell me that Imri was puking in the car and John was turning around to bring him home. And could I please do the same?
My attempts to reassure said beloved husband that the puking was most likely due to the beginnings of a cold/mucus storm together with the consumption of milk seemed to fall on deaf ears and an increasingly upset husband. My attempts to explain the need for this appointment with Dr High Risk received the same response. Not that there was anywhere I could go ... I was stuck on the highway with no nearby exit.
After having a small snit, John realized that I truly was stuck and that because of the violence of the coughing fits, a check of my fluid level was very important. Better yet, once home Imri settled down with no further episodes of vomiting, a great appetite and good cheer. Which freed me to continue fighting my way through highway hell. I arrived at my appointment only 25 minutes late or so .... grrrr.
The sonographer wasn't my favourite but you can't ask for everything - what I did ask for and get was a decent fluid measurement - 10cm, down from 12 the week before but to be expected, all things considered. Cord pressure was great, heartbeat in the 160s. Baby girl scored 8 of 8. The sonographer encouraged me to continue drinking 2-3 liters a day to which I raised a brow ... hard to do when you pee out everything you drink upon coughing... but I digress. Dr Risky's office doesn't do cervix checks past 34 weeks but stressed the need to call my OB and let them know about the coughing fits, etc.
Which I did and my indifferent OB's office first asked me why I was bothering to tell them this ("but are you having contractions?") and then told me to keep my appointment for tomorrow, which I had planned to do anyway. I think they need to do the strep test anyway as I am nearly 36 weeks so they probably will check my cervix. Ack. That's always so much fun this late in pregnancy. With a cough.
I'm afraid I'll baptize the OB ...
Stay tuned.
Oh, and Imri is coughing. *sigh*. I'm just grateful this is happening now, not in 2 weeks time. Yes, September the 4th is two weeks today. Ack. Have I mentioned how much pink has invaded my home? I'm very blessed with generous friends and co-workers.
And, at least we've agreed on a name.
Yeah, exciting. I know. That's about it these days.
My fluid has risen to 12cm! Dr High Risk was warmly delighted with me and shook my hand not once but twice and told me that I'm doing everything right. He looked at me as if I was a crazy woman when I asked if I could increase my work hours.
Well ... I had to ask. Not that I really want to increase my work hours but we could use the cash. Ah well.
In the "cool news" category, it looks like my soon-to-be-daughter has a head of hair! Or so the ultrasound shows. Pretty neat, considering I had a dream this week that she was born with a full head of black hair. I'm starting to get excited, seriously. That kind of thing just makes it more "real" ... not that the heartburn, hemorrhoids, enormous stomach, etc don't make it real, but still. Oh, and she weighs approximately 5 and a half lbs and definitely doing practice breathing in utero - all is well.
I see the OB today and hopefully can confirm the induction date - she forgot to give the worksheet to her scheduler. I've really had mixed care from my OB's office - on one hand they've been great, on the other hand, I've had to stay on top of them to get good follow-up, such as blood work, etc. Like my platelets. It's confusing.
John left for S. Carolina this morning to see Jr graduate from Marine Corp bootcamp. I'm nervous about being left on my own but I'm sure everything will be fine. I do have a number for one of Imri's favourite daycare people and she will be around if I suddenly need her ... she's also leaving at the end of this week and I am going to get her a gift card and some flowers from Imri. *sigh*. She was my favourite person at the daycare which is mostly staffed with well-meaning but not terribly well-educated people. Yeah, sounds snobby but I live in redneck country so it counts for something. Yes, I worry. A lot. I'd move Imri into a more scholastically- oriented/Montessori program if we could afford it. Hopefully this time next year we will be better off.
Speaking of which, we have indeed spoken with legal representation regarding our financial situation and will be taking action as soon as we can accumulate a retainer. It bothers me on so many different levels that we need to do this but there is no choice. I'm sort of stunned, to be truthful. I know John was trying to protect me in his own fashion but ... yikes.
So there you have it. I will try and keep updating with more exciting news ...
Just wondering if anyone is out there ... no one comments and I know my life isn't that exciting, nor is my writing, for that matter but ... thought I'd check to see if anyone was still following the ongoing saga.
So here it is ...saw Dr High Risk yesterday and my fluid is up to 10cm! Staying off my feet (for the most part) and drinking what seems to be my body's weight in water appears to be working. Not only is my girl's head down, but her head is right on my cervix which explains the pressure I've been feeling. My cervix, however, is not budging. It is long and closed, which is how we like it. Dr High Risk looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and said "keep doing what you're doing". I love that man.
Upon seeing my OB today, I mentioned that I'm a tad stressed about not knowing an induction date and if it's possible to schedule it at all, so I at least know which way is up and can plan accordingly. The OB clucked understandingly and mentioned August 31st. I like August ... but not at the beginning of a long weekend. Hospital staffing being what it is on weekends and holidays... nah. I agreed to September 4th. Now that's still tentative but there you have it.
It's just plain weird, knowing the day your child is going to enter the world.
Now the date is only if something doesn't happen previously to that - so I'm hoping - because I'll be 37-38 weeks by then which would be excellent for the baby's growth and development. And the OB says she sees no reason for me to be in the hospital for 24 hours prior as per the other OB - I'll just go off the blood thinners 48 hours previous to and show up on the induction date. It's all good.
Here's hoping we get there.
It's 2:24 am and here I am. Yep, insomnia strikes. Actually, it might not be insomnia so much as an inability to deal with warmth and while many might find my house to be at the subzero level, I am warm, damnit. So I moved myself, my pillow and body pillow to the couch.
It ain't working.
My palms are warm. I hate that. Thank goodness my thighs aren't. Fat will do that.
The parental units are driving John and I a bit batty. They are understandably worried about the baby and I, and are concerned about John's plans to go to Jr's Marine Corp graduation ceremony in mid-August.
It's very important that he go. My mom doesn't get it (and that's fine) but I do. And as I've told John, we are the adults in this relationship and while the 'rents can give input, the decision is ultimately ours. I don't have a problem with John going as I know how important and life-changing this is for Jr - his dad should be there.
That being said, if we find out that week that the baby is a-coming, then ... he won't be able to go. And that will suck but that's life, unfortunately.
The bigger problem to me is how I'm going to cope with a heavy and mischevious toddler for the couple days that John is gone. John's idea is to have Imri go with him and I have nixed that - it's an 8-9 hour drive. Not to mention, John will have his mother, a bilateral amputee with him. Not to mention that he may get the phone call saying "getcher ass back here now" at any point. So no. Sure, the thought of being all by myself with no one to look after for 48+ hours is tempting but ... no.
Not to mention that I hyperventilate at the thought of my son being in a car, far far away from me. Call me ridiculous but all the bad "what-ifs" go through my brain.
So what to do? We need someone to stay with me. My best friend's (yeah, that's you Gramma Stacy)daughter is due any day now, so she's out. I've asked a friend from work if she'd mind spending a couple of nights here but she didn't seem keen and that's totally fine. There is a nurse's aide at work who might be able to do it, but I'd obviously have to pay her and money is an issue, of course.
Our neighbour might be able to help out but I don't like asking although I may have to. I'm sure John's crazy sister in law would do it but ... she's crazy. So no. It sucks not having my family close by. Truly.
I don't make friends easily so ... I don't have a lot of friend options. Which also sucks. Sometimes I wish I were more of a friend-gatherer ...but it's just not who I am. I don't know how to teach that to my kids, either ... which saddens me. It's my hope that they are born naturally a lot less socially awkward than I am.
It's just John and I, for the most part. And most of the time, that's just fine with me. But the bigger part of having a large circle of friends, family and whatever social/religious outlet you belong to, is coming home to roost right now.
Not sure what we're going to do, especially if I get put on complete bed rest.
Yesterday was the first biophysical profile for our baby girl. I arrived at Dr High Risk's office raring to go and anxious to see her - it's been a month, after all. Yes, I am terribly spoiled.
More than anything, I was hoping against hope that she had turned from her breech position. I called the OB's office yesterday because of the constant hard stomach/BH contractions and extreme pressure that I was feeling and they basically told me that it was nothing and to call them if it got worse. But ... I had a feeling that something wasn't quite right. Or perhaps that the baby had turned. But something was different. Sure, you can call me an alarmist but I don't really call the OB's office unless I feel that something is truly off.
The very pleasant sonographer and I are chit-chatting away - funny how infertility and treatment just seems to pop up during conversations at a perinatologist's office - sharing stories and just chatting ... and there she was! Vertex! (head down, for those not in the know). I was delighted and got all misty-eyed, of course. But the sonographer's face told me something wasn't quite right.
For those who don't remember (and why should you?), my son was born after induction because of oligohydramnios, or low amniotic fluid. My fluid level was measured at 6cm and it's my understanding that the low range is 5-8. Imri was 37 weeks gestation, so considered term and doing practice breathing in utero and the boy, whom my OB had warned me was "chubby" the previous week, turned out to weigh 7lbs, 1oz. He did absolutely fine, and while we came very close to a c-section, we managed to avoid it.
Well, it turns out that my fluid is currently at 8cm. A month ago it was 13.9cm. Not wonderful at all. And because of that, we're delighted that the baby girl has turned because it's getting to be close quarters in there. And that, my friends, is the reason for all the contractions. Low fluid. So I wasn't out to lunch in calling my OB's office ...
To add to it, we're not really close to term yet. I'll be 33 weeks this Thursday and while my daughter is weighing in at roughly 4lbs, which is great (if inaccurate, most likely) for a very short NICU stay, I am not ready for her to join us yet. She needs more womb time. Yes, she's a decent size and she was doing some practice breathing in utero but ... she's still preemie and I don't want her to be born prematurely.
And, I'm just not ready.
Dr High Risk sort of read me the riot act. He wants me off my feet - ideally, he wants me out of work completely. We can't do that, financially. Things are very touch and go that way. I'd already cut back to 32 hours a week, so now it looks like 20 to 26 hours if I can get work to cooperate. And what that means is basically not doing nursing care. Dr HR has said no up and down stuff, he wants me as horizontal as possible. And drinking at least 3L a day. Ick. At least my cervix is long and closed.
So, they have agreed to let me do paperwork but it's for the time being, really. Everyone is being very kind but ... we are owned by a corporation now, so I never know what will come down from on high. And I will have to change my hours which will be awful for morning rush hour. *sigh*.
So today, my day off - Imri is at daycare. I'm going to miss my Wednesdays with him - I do already. I waved at him as he rode off with his Daddy and my heart was in my throat.
And it bothers me on a profound level that the last nearly 2 years that have been so very life-changing for me, the 2 years in which we've spent so much time together just Imri and I ... well, he won't even remember them. Sure, they're formative, etc etc and they have imprinted ... but he won't remember all our special times together that are so very precious and in my heart. Our first "lunch" together. Etc etc. Soon, once the baby comes ... he won't remember it being any other way.
Why does that upset me so? But it does.
So there you have it. Low fluid. No money. Have to cut back on work. No money. Have to take the best care of the baby girl as possible. Deal with hormones. No money. Have to rest rest rest. So much on John's shoulders. Yes, I worry. A lot.
Now to go buy that winning lottery ticket ...
