Pre-baby blues

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, pre-baby blues.

Not so impressed

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My first day as a gestational diabetes patient

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This just infuriates me

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

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

Thank you

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's official.

I have gestational diabetes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Guess who failed her one hour GD test?

Yours truly.

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

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

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

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

A day in the life

A quick update before I completely zonk out.

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

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

10:45 - time of alleged visit to OB.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zippo.

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

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

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

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

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

Things I have started and not finished:

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

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

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

I think I want my mommy.

27 weeks

Thank you to those of you who commented and sent well-wishes - much appreciated. I re-read my words from yesterday and I guess that whole L&D episode scared me more than I thought.

As I lay in that L&D bed, all I kept thinking was "26 weeks. Fuck, it's too early. I know it's viable but it's too early. He needs to cook longer. Fuck." That was pretty much it until I managed to drown out the panic with an episode of SVU that I actually had never seen.

It's interesting. One of the women at work turned to me the other day and said "you've had SUCH a difficult pregnancy!" and I was shocked. I haven't, not really. Sure, lots of little things have gone awry like the swelling and the carpal tunnel and the melasma, contractions, the Rh factor, and various other miscellany - but a difficult pregnancy? I don't see it that way. Of course, they all think I'm a bloody hypochondriac there, but that's ok.

They've never had to deal with reproductive issues, obviously. They've never had to live with the fear. And none of them have been pregnant with their first viable baby and going on 40 years old. They keep comparing me to the other nurse there who just gave birth - she is early 30s, fertile and completely healthy. I think they forget how old I am because I act childishly ...

Newsflash ... being a mom changes you. I see it in all my friends, it makes you "older" (for lack of a better word)in your thinking. Not for everyone, but still, I guess I don't seem that "old" to them, even though I've been a stepmom for 5 years. And we won't get into that at all these days other than to mention that John let Jr cash in the piggy-bank he's been saving since he's been 3, even after we discussed it (John says he doesn't remember)and said no at the time. Instead of telling him "get a job and you'll have money". Say no more.

But back to pre-digression ... I don't know if I'll think "old" ever. I've never been a typical thinker, I don't fit into groupthink or groupspeak - even when I want to, I usually fail miserably. So, I'm not sure I'll be that kind of mom.

Frankly, I'm not sure what kind of mom I'm going to be and it worries me. I'll probably suck ass. Too strict about the wrong things, too lax about the others. But the dreams ... they are vivid.
A dark-haired baby, looking up at his mobiles and laughing, sleeping in my arms, being cuddled, being loved, being read to and sang to and tickled...
A little boy with dark hair and blue eyes poring over a Narnia book or a telescope, laughing as he rides his bicycle. Laughing and calling out "Mom!! Look at this,Mom!!".

Mom. Someone is going to call me "Mom". With all that simple name entails.

How incredible is that? When I think about it, so much of everything else just vanishes. Except for the tears.

A short visit to L&D ...

It's quite odd. I get 40-50 hits a day on this blog ... but only a couple of you leave comments. Please leave comments, even just to say "hi". If not, I'll eventually have to track you down and bang on your door.

So, a touch of excitement in the Chaos household Thursday. John's birthday and I ended up in L&D by myself ... so much for dinner at the Macaroni Grill.

I went for a breast exam because of the blood in my colostrum. The doctor, an older man, was very sweet and exclaimed "5 pregnancies! And no children. hmmm. Don't give up, dear. We had 5 miscarriages but my 3 kids are having their own kids now ...." Made me smile and maybe a touch watery in the eyes.

The exam went well and everything seemed to be normal although he wants ultrasounds done to both breasts. I thanked him and hurried back to work.

Around 2 o'clock, I started getting contractions. Braxton-Hicks contractions, but still. They were unrelenting and uncomfortable, to the point where I was getting short of breath and unable to walk very far without huffing and puffing. I started to get very scared and even the other RNs I work with were getting a bit concerned.

After 2 hours of this, I called the OB and she was concerned because of the discomfort and sob ... told me to go to L&D. I was at work, so I went to the hospital across the street. I called John and told him - I don't think he grasped exactly what was going on. He did, to his credit, call me back later and ask if I wanted him to be there, but I saw no point to it at that stage.

L&D was full! I had to wait in the waiting room with 3 other pg ladies, all having symptoms of pre-term labour. Not fun. One of the girls from work came and sat with me for a while, which was nice. But the thought of an L&D floor being full is quite scary. The hospital closer to home may be a very good choice, in the long run. It's probably less busy than this one is.

Sometimes being a nurse has its perks - they took me in before some of the other women (although there may have been good reason why, I don't know). I did get admitted and monitored after waiting for over an hour ... and the baby is fine.

If nothing else, it was wonderful to just lie there for hours and listen to his heart beating - if nothing else, that was worth the time spent. He is an active little one, my son is.
I was still having a few contractions but by the time they got me on the monitors, they had mostly subsided. 3 hours of contractions was enough for my body, it seems.

The nurses were great and the OB was super nice ... I apologized to him for taking up a bed at a very busy time and he said "I've read your chart ...you've worked very hard to get to this point. I appreciate paranoia like yours - you did the right thing by coming in"
I started to cry, of course, It's always good to hear recognition of the struggles you've been through, especially from a busy doctor.

Anyway ...all is well. I'm officially on light duty for a while which should help and no more breast exams, necessary or not. No one is completely sure what precipitated this and I'm not rushing to find out. My fluid intake had been a tad lower than usual that day, so that may have been a contributing factor - I also think that pushing heavy stretchers doesn't help much. They want to see me in the office this week as well as next. Oy.

I am officially taking it easy this weekend. John went off golfing and I have several pounds of tomatoes to make into sauce ... or something. Other than that? Feet up on the couch and lots of popsicles. At least it's cooler this weekend. Small miracles.

Preggo brain

Here's a pic of today's yield from the garden. I brought a bunch of tomatoes into work and they vanished in seconds. It's a nice feeling.


These are fated for tomato sauce and maybe some salsa this weekend. If I have the energy. Thankfully, Jr will be at the biothing's house this weekend, so ... there ya have it.

Before I forget, please head over to Danae'sand wish Grrl, Mr Grrl, Sarah and baby Gefilte a hearty mazal tov!

In my garden zeal and other issues yesterday, I forgot to update you about a bad case of preggo brain.
I had been calling my OB's office because they needed to reschedule me - a story I won't get into, say thanks now ... but all they could do was schedule me way the heck and gone for Tuesday, August 2nd at the Rockville office. Lots of docs are vacationing, so there's a touch of a shortage and while Rockville is a bit of a hike on my day off ... well, that's what there is. I called a few times to see if there were cancellations and even called Monday and ask if there's any way they can switch my appt on the following day ... but nada. Everything is booked.

So yesterday, I take Jr and myself all the way to Rockville. I'm not terribly happy about this because I wanted to go to the Prime Outlets in Hagerstown to 1)hunt for a birthday present for John and 2)to shop the Motherhood maternity outlet store. I brought Jr along for the ride so he could spend his hard-earned cash (HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! ... oh sorry. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!! oh stop. Just a little humour there. Uh-huh. *snort*) on a gift for his father.

So I get to the Rockville office with 5 minutes to spare and the nice receptionist looks at me and says ... "but Ma'am, your appointment isn't till next week ..." at which point I realize that indeed, I am a week early.

Preggo brain in action, folks. I totally managed to convince myself that my August 2nd appointment was, in fact, on July 26th. For no other reason than my day off is Tuesday during both weeks. Oy.

They were extremely nice in the office and the doc saw me anyway, although I had to wait a bit and understandably so. His Highness is doing well, heartrate in the 140s and my belly was measured for the first time. I am now starting biweekly visits, it seems. My gestational diabetes testing is coming up. Oh ... and I mentioned the bloody colostrum thing to the doc who, it seemed, knew nothing about it although supposedly it was going in my chart when I called 2 weeks ago and was told "it's nothing". He checked my breasts and found nothing but guess what? I'm going to the surgeon tomorrow for a look-see. He told me "don't panic, but we should have this looked at". So I'm not panicking but ... ok, maybe a little. I lost a cousin to breast cancer last year and my aunt is a survivor - so we have history.

Instead I'm trying to focus on the fact that my weigh-in showed a 2 lb loss. Yessssssssssssssss.

We did eventually make it to the outlet mall where I purchased a pair of Aviator Ray-Bans for John - he never reads this, so I'm safe. I also bought a couple of really nice blouses that might be usable later, a pair of much needed maternity shorts, a maternity swimsuit (YESSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and finally - at long last - maternity undies!!! They are so damned comfortable.

And the piece de resistance ... a bra extender!! Ladies, I never even knew such a thing existed but I have to tell you ... my rib cage is thanking me mightily today. Sweeeeeeeeeeeeet.

Oh, and the latest Patricia Cornwell book in paperback, which is calling my name as I type.I started it at the pool yesterday in the ridiculous heat we've been having ... but I had my swimsuit. It felt so damned good to float like that and take some weight off.

So there you have it. Wish me luck tomorrow.

Tired of being a cash-cow.

I feel extremely frustrated. Every time I try and make a point to my stepson about the importance of getting a job and making money of his OWN, my beloved husband throws money at him under some guise. Today, after Jr borrowed money from a friend to get a cell phone card so he can use the cellphone his female biounit bought him, while counting on his allowance next week to fund that purchase, John came home and decided that the work Jr did while painting was enough to cover that debt.

John has already given him money for painting.

Jr was not expecting more money from painting.

This was after I had spoken to Jr about the evils of borrowing money from friends AND when you don't have a pot to piss in and reminding him of the need for a job.

Then John told me he didn't know how Jr was going to get a job anyway, since he's going to the biounit's house for a couple of weeks.

The kid is going into 12th grade and is still getting an allowance.

He's shown no drive or motivation to get a job, his driver's license, look at colleges or anything else.

Both of his bioparents keep enabling this behaviour.

I am done. I am silently furious with John on this matter and next time a large expense comes for Jr's grad, I'm just going to say that the biounit better be paying for half because I am not. The biounit pays less per month than I do to feed, clothe and shelter her son ... I'm tired of my paycheque being a repository for a lazy teenager and his lazier mother and tired of my opinions being dismissed. I'm not asking for the moon nor am I cheap, I'm just trying to teach the kid some fiscal responsibility - ANY responsibility for that matter.

Fuck that noise. I'm done.

Garden P0rn

More garden fun for Day and the rest of ye... I'll remind you of what the garden looked like before this ... here
Remember, I am not a great photog ... as if it wasn't evident.



You can actually *see* the humidity this morning ... ick.



These are mostly ginormous tomato plants, attempting their takeover of the universe. It's hard to see, but there are hundreds of tomatoes on those vines.




Dare I hope? A cantaloupe??


These are HUGE suckers. Man, I better start making tomato sauce. Anyone with a great recipe out there?



YES!! A watermelon. I'm such a proud mama.


Jalapenos. We planted 2 plants. Why? I have no idea. John dislikes spicy food.




John worked very very hard on the deck. It looks absolutely amazing now - it was grey and green-ish before. The grey on the house is primer, we are starting to paint. Eventually we may paint the ...er... third bedroom too. Oh, and if you live in Maryland? Feel free to drop by for some free tomatoes ... and maybe a hot pepper or six.

For Day ...

Sorry babe, got home and forgot to take pics of the jungle but here's some of the yield. The yellow tomatoes are delish!!




More later, including my disgust with the National Hockey League in general and Gary Bettman in particular.

I figured

I wouldn't get much commentary on my last entry. C'est la vie.

As for baby-related stuff, I am officially 26 weeks. His Highness has been vigorous and it makes me smile - in fact, I saw my t-shirt move for the first time the other day. It's very sweet when you think about it. I love feeling him move ... I realize I may not feel that way at week 36, but I do now.

I talk to him on the drive into work each morning, call him by his unofficial name sometimes just to see if it fits. I try and remember Hebrew lullabies but ... they are fleeting memories. I need to get my hands on some before it gets much later in this pregnancy.

The wallpaper border that I ordered off ebay arrived and John and I went to the Depot of Homes to match paint and also get paint for the outside of the house ... we had a small (very) windfall with the arrival of my disability cheque, so we are finally in a slightly (very) more comfortable financial place. We bought a couple of quarts of paint to see if they will go with what I envision in the ...er... third bedroom. The catch being that John doesn't love the bedding I picked out which would go beautifully with the Pooh border. I may stick to my guns on this one. We shall see. But it's expensive and it's order-only. Still, it's not as expensive as some!!

I really like it. Should I say that again? Your thoughts?

John also vetoed the Graco Snugride for an infant seat - yes, I finally got him to go to Buy Buy Baby. We've decided to go with the Combi Connection because it fits better in the Kolcraft Universal Carrier. How's that for bandying around names? The Combi feels more secure in there ... and I like the Kolcraft carrier better than the Combi carrier - it's roomier. So much for saving money though ... the Combi is more expensive by about 50 bucks. Together they work out to almost the same price as a travel system ... but with much less weight and that is appealing to me.

And that's all, folks. I may have gratuitous gardenp0rn to show you later but I will admit, we have been harvesting squash, zucchini and jalapenos, as well as a couple of tomatoes. I found a watermelon and 'lope growing. All the carrots and most of the other peppers have passed on because they weren't getting enough sun due to the humungous tomato growth.

Oh, and John finished the deck. It looks gorgeous, so I may sneak in a shot of that later. Off to do some weeding!!

PS ... anyone want a nearly 17 yo teenage boy? Cheap ...nah, free to a good home. Sulking and whining at no extra charge. Promise.

In which I get (more)political on yer asses

Lately I've been feeling particularly political and in correlation, more despairing than ever. I've watched the bombings in Britain with great sadness, as have most of us. Of course, the one question that started niggling in my brain not long after that first terrible attack was "why is a bus bombing in Britain called a 'terrorist' or 'terror' attack but when the exact same thing happens in Israel it's not?"

I asked a couple of people about this and was surprised to hear "oh, well that's because it happens in Israel all the time" and other like responses. So lemme get this straight ... if terrorist attacks happen ALL the time in one place, they are too humdrum and commonplace to label appropriately? Sounds like intellectual laziness to me. Strangely, no one had an answer for that.

I also found it particularly sad that a couple of days after the first attack in London, there was a terrorist attack and explosion in Iraq in which a number of schoolchildren were killed. CBS radio and TV screamed "Slaughter of the Innocents!!" and covered this for a couple of days and rightfully so. The murder of children for political gain has no place in this world. But what saddened me more was that a number of schoolchildren in Israel were killed the next day by a Hamas suicide bomber ... and no media station screamed out in protest about the slaughter of innocents. In fact, it was a mere sideline in the evening news. Terrorism was never mentioned. No, it was an attack by "militants".

These two stories make me wonder ... Why is it only called "terrorism" if Jews are not the target?

Hamas have come out and said:

Hamas will not compromise on one inch of Greater Palestine, Hamas leader Mahmoud al-Zahar told an Italian newspaper earlier this week.

Speaking to the Corriere Della Sera newspaper, al-Zahar said Hamas would "definitely not" be prepared for coexistence with Israel should the IDF retreat to its 1967 borders.
"It can be a temporary solution, for a maximum of 5 to 10 years. But in the end Palestine must return to become Muslim, and in the long term Israel will disappear from the face of the earth."

That is the face of terrorism. Plain and simple. So why the hesitation to brand it as such? Why is Al Qaeda the only accepted "terrorist" organization?

I don't mean to be disingenuous. It truly does seem to be a double standard. I've seen the copies of Time and Newsweek with "Terror in London" emblazoned all over them ... I've never seen the same coverage given to bombings in Israel (which at times have sadly killed more than 50+ people), nor headlines blazing, nor the word "terrorism" used, nor Christiann Amanpour (ick)rushing to the scene.

I guess it's still ok to kill Jews ... the world doesn't seem to make a big deal about it 50 years later, either.

Great. Just great ...

The Shrub nominated John Roberts Jr for the Supreme Court position vacated by Sandra Day O'Connor.

(stolen from "Alas, a blog" which seems to have left us temporarily)
John Roberts
Biography
Current Position:- U.S. Court of Appeals - D.C.

The Buzz:
- Known conservative but considered a ’stealth candidate’.
- Former supreme court clerk under Rehnquist
- Under the former Bush Administration, he played an active role in efforts to limit abortion. Roberts argued in a brief before the U.S. Supreme Court that “[w]e continue to believe that Roe was wrongly decided and should be overruled.”
- Age 50

From Law.Com:
Yet those who know Roberts say he, unlike Souter, is a reliable conservative who can be counted on to undermine if not immediately overturn liberal landmarks like abortion rights and affirmative action. Indicators of his true stripes cited by friends include: clerking for Rehnquist, membership in the Federalist Society, laboring in the Ronald Reagan White House counsel’s office and at the Justice Department into the Bush years, working with Kenneth Starr among others, and even his lunchtime conversations at Hogan & Hartson. “He is as conservative as you can get,” one friend puts it. In short, Roberts may combine the stealth appeal of Souter with the unwavering ideology of Scalia and Thomas.


~~~~~~~~~
So ... not only did we NOT get a woman justice or a person of colour but he gives us a person who is fundamentally opposed to affirmative action, is not a fan of the environment and who is anti-choice. And I quote ..."as an attorney in the Justice Departments of Ronald Reagan and George H.W. Bush, Roberts repeatedly argued for the reversal of Roe v. Wade stating that there was "no support in the text, structure or history of the Constitution" for the reasoning behind Roe."

I better start packing my bags for Canada.

And one more thing ...

So after my shower this morning, I gently pressed my nipples - I don't exactly know why I do this but that a girlfriend told me I should do it to "toughen them up for breastfeeding".
Colostrum sprang forth readily ... as did blood from one place, mixed within the colostrum. I tried again, more gently. Same result.

Several hours later I tried yet one more time. Yep. Still some blood.

Yes, of course I googled the snot out of it, oh ye of little faith. And yes, it does happen. That is followed by the admonition to "call your doctor".

I'll be calling the OB tomorrow. In the meantime, I'm trying to quell my rising panic.