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 ...
I spent the better part of Monday afternoon/evening in L&D after spending the better part of Monday afternoon contracting while at work. And crying. Yeah, I knew that at nearly 32 weeks we are probably in the relative clear, but still ...
All is well with the baby, thank the heavens - no one is sure what happened and by the time I got to the hospital and got on the monitors, most of the contractions had stopped. The only thing I can correlate is that in the hospital, I was lying and resting, something I can't really do at work. We don't want me to go on bedrest as that will precipitate (greater) financial crisis, so ... we'll see what happens.
I can't say enough about the great nursing care I got at the hospital - it's the same hospital where Imri was born and I thought the care then was great too. It's nice to see and to be able to say.
The Braxton-Hicks I'm having are nearly constant and they are driving me up the wall. It's truly uncomfortable although much better than the real thing. It's just difficult to relax when your belly is always tight and hard. Ick.
Anyway, I have an OB appointment today, so I will be asking them a lot of questions as to what I can and can't physically do, as well as my platelet level (which as far as I know, is still hovering around 100,000), possible induction and if so, dates ... and what to do about my adorable daughter, who at last count is still breech.
Yeah.
Imri continues to thrive and grow. He really is a sweet boy and his imagination is showing beautifully ... he asked me this morning for a waffle and for me to slice it into "sailboats". Took me a moment to realize he meant for me to cut it into triangles. He is talking in full sentences and while some of it is toddlerese, most of it is completely understandable.
We are working on his penchant for hitting his mother. While I do realize (because I've read the same research you have)that this is most likely because I am the person he is connected to the most, it still annoys the heck out of me, not to mention that it hurts. And I'm hormonal enough to take it personally.
What I've done is start cheering whenever he touches "gently" or "makes shane" (Yiddish). It seems to be working right now, as he loves to hear "hurray".
He remains fascinated by all things mechanized, including Thomas the Tank Engine, tractors, trucks (particularly garbage trucks) of all kinds, cars, bicycles, motorcycles ... you get the drift. Our collection of trains, planes and automobiles continues to grow hugely.
We have started talking to him about the baby and he sort of gets that there's a baby in mommy's tummy. He insists that it will go live with Tim and Patty who live across the street - hey, maybe he gets it more than I think he does ...
That's it in a nutshell. I will try and keep the Internets posted as to further developments.
Imri, showing off his "sailboat".
We've been sick. Well, actually, it started with Imri - we took him to the town fair last Tuesday. That night he started vomiting. And vomiting. And vomiting. It was awful, especially since he cried and cried when vomiting ... it's so hard on little ones who just don't understand. He kept crying and looking at me with that "why, mommy??" look. Needless to say by the time morning came round, we were all exhausted and I was out of clean nightgowns to wear.
The scariest part of illness is holding your baby in your arms and he just lies there, listless and lethargic. I took him to the doctor who was pretty concerned about his weight loss as he hadn't been able to hold down anything, including water - he had lost 5% of his body weight. The doctor basically said - fluids, one tsp at a time or he'll end up in the ER. Fortunately for us, Imri decided that popsicles were a good thing just at the right time.Whew.
He's just starting to get back his complete appetite now although he's been fine since Friday or so. We were concerned that he had gotten food poisoning from the fair, but it didn't act like classic food poisoning ... something that was confirmed when at work on Monday, I became quite sick. By the time I got home Monday, I felt like death warmed over and later that night I vomited too. I don't think I've thrown up in over 15 years, seriously.
So it seems to be a virus and a nasty one, too. Nothing else, just nausea and vomiting and feeling awful but at nearly 30 weeks preggers? It's not fun. I can't even imagine how awful my sweet boy must have felt.
Missing all this work has put a serious damper on our already strained finances and I'm not sure what we're going to do. We're looking at our options and may need to speak with a lawyer.It's pretty bad. I'd just rather do it now than have to deal with the phone calls when I have a newborn to care for. John doesn't seem to get this but then, he is a procrastinator.
I just hope I feel a lot better tomorrow because I have to go back in to work. No real other choices there.
In the good news department - I passed my 3 hour glucose tolerance test! Holy smokes! I never would have believed it. Platelets are holding steady around 100,000 so no worries yet. Onward and upward.
At the fair - a very happy boy.
I failed my repeat one hour glucose tolerance test. By one point. One measly point.
More importantly, they tested my red blood count because of my feeling of exhaustion and guess what? My platelets are hovering around 95,000. Normal is usually somewhere around 200,000. So, this could explain my exhaustion ... and is probably due to the Lovenox (blood thinner) that I'm on.
Off I trotted today to have my 3 hour glucose tolerance test. As before, it was just loads of fun - fasting overnight, and 3.5 hours stuck in a cramped waiting room, with four blood draws. They also drew my platelet repeat. Thank goodness the phlebotomist was excellent.
Then I had to boogie to my perinatologist's office a mere 25 miles away - in 30 minutes. After a stop at the nearby fast food joint, I was starving! Fortunately, 270 was clear and I drove like a maniac pregnant hormonal woman the whole way there, so I got there on time and as a bonus, got my favourite sonographer too.
Baby girl is measuring on target, which is great - it means that even if I do have GD, it hasn't affected her yet. She weighs about 2lbs 13 ounces and is perfect! The sonographer measured my amniotic fluid which was 13.4, also excellent. As of my next visit at the end of July, I will start weekly biophysical exams which is like a non-stress test. The baby has to score at least 8 to pass, from what I understand.
I spoke with Dr High Risk who was pleased with the baby's progress. He is a touch concerned about the platelets but says he isn't going to worry unless they drop below 90,000 at which point I will probably go on steroids. Won't that make me a joy to be around? I've been on prednisone before and promptly became the Wicked Bitch of the East. But I'm not worrying about that, there's no point.
His biggest concern was for me because low platelets *could* mean no epidural ... but again, I'm not going to stress over it right now. So much can happen between now and then.
He also reassured me dryly that while I may have only failed my OB's GD markers by 1 point (I scored 136, cutoff was 135), I would have failed his by 6 points as his cutoff is 130. I think he was trying to make me feel better ...
Oh, and the baby, who was nicely turned head down last time, is now breech. The sonographer reassured me that there's nothing to worry about and that there's plenty of time but ... ack.
But, amidst all that ... came this ...
Isn't she beautiful?? Just for orientation sake, she is looking to your visual right, her lips and chin are middle-bottom slightly to the right.
I think she's gorgeous. And that she looks like her brother ...
I woke up today and knew it was going to be a long day. I had to do the repeat of my fasting 1 hour glucose tolerance test as well as other bloodwork and then I needed to get my Rhogam shot. What I didn't know was how long my day was going to be, nor how filled with unnecessary frustration and sheer incompetence.
Some background: I have a fairly rare blood type. I am O negative but I have something called a "weak D". That means that sometimes, my blood type shows up as O positive, even though I am negative. This especially happens if I've had Rhogam recently. For all intensive purposes, it doesn't affect me unless 1) I am donating blood or 2) I am preggers.
Since John carpools, I knew I'd have to take Imri to daycare which is 20 minutes away, then return to town to do my 1 hr (all while fasting), then go to my OB's to pick up my slip for the Rhogam shot (I'm Rh negative), then drive to the hospital near where I work for yet more blood work and an injection. Lovely.
(And to top it off, I'm the one that had to call the OB and ask for the Rhogam, they had completely missed it at my 27 week appointment. And they argued with me about it, too, telling me I was O positive - which as I've explained, I'm not)
So I did. I got Imri's stuff together and took him to daycare, wistfully watching him wolf down raisin bread and milk all the while, then went to the lab and drank the nasty disgusting drink and sat there for an hour, had blood work done. Then got in the car, drove to the OBs, got the paperwork. Stopped and got something to eat (finally!!!!) and drove the 35 minutes to the hospital near where I work, as my OBs office doesn't give the shots and the hometown hospital doesn't do it outpatient either.
I get there at 10:30 and they go to register me and turns out they need pre-auth. And my doc's office should have taken care of it but now we need to call them and get it all done. So I wait. And wait. And wait. Finally they take me back, register me and draw my second set of blood today. It's now 11:30. They tell me it can take an hour or two, so why don't I go get some lunch?
Great idea. I drive to the nearby Safeway, pick up Janet Evanovich's latest paperback, get a sandwich and some cherries (1.99 a lb!) and head back. It's around 12:15. I eat my sandwich, snack on cherries and enjoy my book. Time passes. I check on status and nothing happening. It's 1:30. I wait till 2:15 and go and ask again. By now I've finished the book, my sandwich and a great manyl of the cherries. I want to get my shot and go home, spend time with my sweet boy - our Wednesdays are special to me. The guy behind the desk tells me someone will be right with me.
At 2:30 a woman comes out of the bloodbank and tells me that I am O positive and that I need to talk to my doctor's office because I don't need the shot.
I look at her incredulously and explain to her that she is mistaken - I was diagnosed Rh negative back in the 90s after an ectopic pregnancy and there is no doubt about it. I also explained to her about the weak D. She says that I am showing a strong positive and I tell her that I've had Rhogam recently - once when I was in the ER with bleeding and once after amnio. She looks at me askance "you had Rhogam? It's not showing up". I pull the little cards out of my wallet and show her.
She turns and goes back into the lab.
She returns 10 minutes later and tells me to call my doctor's office as I don't need this shot, she spoke to someone I have never heard of before and that's what they told her. I patiently ask the woman which office she spoke to, as I go to the one in my hometown and I'd like to speak with the same person that the woman spoke to.
She begrudgingly gives me the number and acts as if it's a big deal and I am being a pain. She then demands the doctor's order (which is where they drew the blood, so I don't have it) and sends a flunky to run and get it.
I call the number and realize it's not my office so they don't know me, even though they have electronic charting. But I ask for the person the blood bank woman spoke to and this person, whom I've never met starts telling me with a superior tone how I don't need this shot.
I interrupt her, as it's now been over 5 hours at the hospital - I'm tired, I'm cranky, I'm hormonal and I've had enough. I tell her my story and how I know what I need and would she please talk to a doctor. She puts me on hold and eventually comes back to the phone and tells me the doctor ok'd the shot. The person behind the desk (not a bloodbank person) takes the message and passes it on.
15 minutes later the same bloodbank woman comes back. This time she points to the number of my hometown office and tells me to call it as there is no need for my shot, and to speak with Sara. By now I am livid. I go over my information with her again and tell her that I'm an RN. But two doctor's orders aren't enough for her. And to top it off, she waves at everyone as her day is over, she's leaving. It's now 3pm. I've been at the hospital since 10:30.
I go over to the phone, furious. I call and get Sara, who is a nurse, I think. She starts to tell me that there's been a mistake and I don't need the Rhogam - I interrupt her point blank and tell her straight out - there is NO mistake. I AM Rh negative. This HAS happened before. They have the proof in my chart from when I had my big bleed at 11 weeks - they have a copy of the bloodwork from the hospital ... etc etc. The same things I've been telling people for hours, it seems. Everyone one else in the waiting room had now heard my entire medical history - and have come after me and left before me ...
She listens - actually listens - and says she needs to speak with my OB. Thank heaven the big man himself is there. She puts me on hold and I wait. And wait. And wait. And wait and finally Dr S himself comes on the line "what's up, K|nneret?".
I give him the short version and he asks to speak with the supervisor - of course, I'm on the outside phone, not the hospital phone so they can't transfer the call and it takes forever to get the supervisor to the phone. While I'm waiting, I hear him talking to someone else who is pointing out how I am O positive in some bloodwork ... and then I hear him say .. "but look - here she is negative!".
HALLELUYAH!! Someone in that office can READ!!!!
Then I hear a stern tone in his voice ... "who marked this chart as O positive???".
Finally, the supervisor came to the phone, spoke with my OB for a couple of minutes. Then he turned to me and softly apologized, saying that they were following protocol, that my blood type is extremely rare and that they will have my shot for me very quickly. I was so overwrought that I burst into sobs. He promises that my chart will be flagged from now on ...
I left the hospital at 3:40. Over 6 hours after I got there.
I knew I was right - I am an educated consumer AND an RN ... but no one wanted to listen. So - the moral of the story is "speak up!! No one will advocate for you but you".
Oh! And when I finally got my shot?? The nurse got blood all over my pants. Just insult to injury ...
And then I came home ... and all is better.
I looked at the ticker I use on my infertility bulletin board today ... 99 days left in this pregnancy. Considering I only went to 37 weeks with Imri - I probably don't even have that long. Holy smokes. We really need to get cracking on fixing up Jr's room and turning it into Imri's room. I'm thinking a train theme. Mebbe.
Have I mentioned that Jr is currently enjoying week 3 or 4 on Parris Island, doing Marine Boot Camp? Hopefully it helps him realize his potential and increase his self esteem and self confidence. He needs those things desperately.
I remain grumpy and hormonal these days and hence I was looking forward to spending a couple of hours at a girlfriend's jewelery party this past weekend. I often have Imri with me when I go, so it was up to John to watch him this weekend when I went out.
Now understand - I rarely go anywhere myself. I don't have a lot of friends in the area, so this was a treat for me - John wanted me to take Imri "so the girls could see how big and cute he was" (right, I didn't fall for that) and I ended up putting Imri down for a nap around 12. I was looking forward to some fun girl time!
I told John "Imri may wake up crying because he didn't eat much breakfast, but that usually means that he's hungry - there are fishsticks or meatballs, he likes both. There are veggies and he always wants fruit" John nodded and off I went, cell phone at the ready, in case of emergency.
I got home around 3:30 and found John and Imri sitting on the couch, eating raisins. Everyone seemed happy - John told me how they had just come in from outdoors and were having a snack, and Imri had slept for about 2 hours. Great! Right?
Well, as we sat there, John says "Oh yeah. And he didn't wake up crying so I didn't give him anything to eat."
I did a double take. And I said .... WHAT? He repeated himself. I said ... so he hasn't had lunch? "Well, you said he'd probably wake up crying ... and he didn't. And he said he wasn't hungry (he always does)- so I figured he was fine!"
I shook my head in disbelief. John then told me that he had a loose poopy diaper too ... to which I asked ... and you're giving him RAISINS????? (this recently happened and we talked about how you shouldn't really give dried fruit to someone with diarrhea). John got peevish with me and told me that he was merely following instructions.
So I guess that based on John's logic, John himself should only eat lunch if he's crying from hunger, huh?? I mean, if he's only going to feed Imri if he's crying from hunger ... sounds right, no?
Sure enough, I sat Imri in his booster and gave him cheese, hummus and crackers which he wolfed down in record time and he had a huge dinner a couple of hours later.
And John still doesn't get it. Even last night he was claiming "I was merely doing as instructed". I said "hey ... I didn't say 'only feed him if he's crying'. I said 'he may be crying when he wakes ...'." Speak about literal interpretations!
From what I understand, this is not an unusual theme in the grand scheme of men taking care of their children and I don't get it. Especially as John raised his own son from a relatively young age ... but then, he lived with his mother and I'm sure she helped out a lot.
It's just curious to me.
Imri's been sick the last couple of days and not sleeping well at night and I am going to get my hair cut late this afternoon. A much-needed and well-deserved break - John is returning a touch early from work so I can go. And because Imri has been sick and whiny, I am looking forward to some alone time.
I'm assuming that I don't need to tell John to feed Imri dinner. Stay tuned.
I am grumpy. Not sure if it's hormones, lack of sleep or whatever, but I've been in a crappy mood for a large part of the last week. Some of it has to do with work, which has gotten even more stupid than I thought possible, some of it has to do with John, and some of it has to do with ... well ... hormones and lack of sleep.
Yeah, I'm not sleeping well, mostly because of hip pain. That and getting up with Imri every night. While there are nights that he sleeps through, they are rare. He is usually up once a night, often twice. While it doesn't take long to get him to soothe back, usually (and sometimes he'll do it on his own), I invariably find myself up at some point between 1 and 3 am. John doesn't seem to hear him. Strange, that. Last night after two awakenings between 11:30 and 12, I told him the next one was his - he was grumpy about it ...grrrrrrr. He got the 3 am one ... after I woke and told him about it.
Not that it mattered because I toss and turn throughout the night with the hip pain, so I wasn't sleeping deeply anyway. I'm tempted to take Benadryl and sleep but it usually just makes me feel drugged, not sleepy.
Oh, and I passed my gestational diabetes test! Cut off was 130 and I squeaked by at 127. Although I did have coffee that morning with a 1/2 tsp of sugar and they still marked it as "fasting". Whatever. The OB's nurse already told me that I'll be re-tested at 28 weeks. Joy.
And the swelling has started a bit - burritos are little salt bombs, it seems, so the morning apres burrito, my fingers and toes were feeling tight and my rings were stuck on. Better than it was with Imri when it started at 16 weeks. I'm at 22.5 weeks now. I better start cutting back on the salt, damn it. Did I mention my cravings for caesar salad?
I also went to the OBs last week for some pretty significant shortness of breath but all my vitals came back normal - they sent me for bloodwork which I ... oops, haven't done yet. Hard to find time, really. I had the choice on Wednesday of dropping Imri off at daycare and doing the bloodwork or spending the day with my son. Guess which I chose?
Our washing machine stopped spinning so we called Sears who told us that our 2.5 year old machine was off warranty, tough titties and that it would cost 65 bucks just for the repair person to come out, never mind look at the machine and please buy the extended year warranty for 200 dollars. Oh, and we won't be able to come out for 2 weeks. So sorry, not really, so what if you have a toddler who needs clean clothes.
When the repair person did come out, turned out that our machine needed a major rebuild to the tune of 399 dollars. Only one hundred dollars more and Sears would have had to give us a new machine.
Right.
Last time I buy a Kenmore. Seriously.
Also, let it be known to those who play golf: if you leave your pregnant spouse with your toddler and go off to play golf for 6-7 hours, please be advised that one of the first things you should do upon your return home is ask your spouse if they need a break, just in case they need to do something like change their pants after a coughing fit at the park stretched the limits of their put-upon bladder. The other option, of eating cake and watching TV while your tired, wet and pregnant spouse struggles to put a toddler to bed, just isn't wise.
I'm just saying.
I didn't mean to panic everyone. My bad. It's just so busy around here and I've been so damned tired. I mean really. And the hip pain doesn't do wonders for my sleep either.
Let me think back ... we had a great time in Canada, except for me getting sick with John and Imri's cold - they were fine by then. So of course, I felt like crap the entire time and couldn't take anything. Joy. Didn't really go anywhere either because it was cold and I felt awful. Nonetheless, it was great to be with family ... and to tell them about Number Two. My siblings were blown away!
March and April have just been busy - so much to do around the house and so little money to do it with, not to mention that I can't do much so I watch Imri while DH whittles away at the "to do" list. Nothing seems to be easy, you know?
Amnio went well, as much as could be expected. Oh yes, and I tested positive for MTHFR ... what can I say?I'm just lucky that everything went well with Imri's pregnancy in that regard. So, I'm on Lovenox twice daily, 2000mcg of Folic Acid, 100mg of B6 and 250mcg of B12 as well as my prenate. Delightful, especially as I have to take them at night with much water, which means I invariably get up to pee ...
All the amnio results are back and everything is fine! I am so happy about that, particularly the spina bifida test, because of the MTHFR. Whew.
Imri is wonderful. Truly wonderful - he is getting so big and is really turning into a little boy now. His 18 month visit put him at 30lbs and 34 inches and he's had a growth spurt since then. He is still eating well, particularly "watermany" (watermelon), his favourite. His language skills continue to blow us away (being the doting parents that we are) and I am starting to add in Hebrew words now. He runs more than he walks and loves the outdoors. He also loves Thomas the train and is delighted with youtube as there are many many episodes online there. Particularly "big onry!! big onry!!" or "Big Strong Henry" to those who know of such things.
He is a very sweet-tempered child and I feel very lucky. I'm hoping that this new addition isn't the complete opposite of him ... yikes.
Here are some pics from this weekend of Imri and dad ... we found a toy lawn mower at a nearby flea market - Imri wouldn't let it go from the moment he laid eyes on it. At least 50 people commented on how cute he was and how he could come over and do their lawn any day ...
So that's my update. I'm now halfway there, at 20+ weeks. Or, considering my history, past the halfway mark most likely. Level II ultrasound is this week and I hope I'll be able to post some pics. I actually went out and did some baby shopping this past week.
Oh and did I forget to mention?
We're having a girl.
How much happier and luckier can one woman be?
