The weeks since I last wrote have been crazy.
Mike and I had a really rough stretch. REALLY ROUGH. Like, "oh my god, I have to get out of this relationship NOW" rough. Sometimes I get so angry. I'm not sure why I have so much anger bottled up inside me. When it happens, I just want to provoke him and I say really mean, hurtful things, intentionally, just to get a rise out of him. I just want to make him react. I'm not sure if it's a test, to see if he really loves me or what. It's sort of weird to do that when I've come to the decision that I love him but am not in love with him. Maybe it's a sign that I am in love with him. Or maybe it's just a sign that I'm a big bitch.
I have been thinking seriously about therapy. I think we should have some, but I also think I should have some. I go through periodic bouts of depression, and while I don't feel like this is one of those, I would like to get to the bottom of why I have so much anger. Where does it come from and what can I do about it?
Michaela has been great. She is going through a growth spurt, I think. She's been drinking a lot and has even awakened a couple of times each night, hungry. She doesn't usually do that. We started giving her solid food a couple of days ago. We began with avocado, which she doesn't seem to like very much. We just give her a little bit, once a day, mostly to get her used to the idea of eating real food.
I had to turn in my hospital grade pump, finally. I rented it for one month, waaaay back in December. I got an extension that took me to February, then a special one that took me to mid-March. For some reason, the final extension didn't make it into the computer, so the med device company called me, I told them to check with my doctor's office and get back to me. They didn't get back to me for a long time. Like until mid-April. We had some mis-communication then, so when all was said and done, they didn't contact me to get back the pump until mid-May. Total cost for five months of Lactina Select pump rental? $18. Yup.
I miss the pump, though. My Pump in Style is fine for on-the-go, but since I am an exclusive pumper, I definitely miss the higher powered hospital grade pump. The other thing I miss about having the Lactina is that I could keep my PIS ready for travel, because it wasn't my primary pump. Before I could just grab it and go, more or less. Now that I only have the PIS, anytime I go anywhere (like out for the day, or traveling), I have to pack it up, make sure I have everything, take it with me, bring it back, unpack it.
Speaking of traveling, I have to go away next month for three days for work. The good thing is, this time I think I will be much less agonized about it. I'm looking forward to some me time, even if I will be sharing a suite with some of my coworkers. My college roommate lives near where I'll be, so we're going to get together for dinner, which is a nice treat. I don't get to see her anywhere near as often as I'd like to. Getting to do it on my company's dime is awesome.
She and her husband are trying to get pregnant, without any luck. I feel really bad for her. Wish there was something I could do. But there isn't, except being a good friend and listening when she wants to talk. (Or in our case, since we do more emailing than phone talking, replying thoughtfully when she writes.)
My best friend, who had twins about a month ago, seems to be doing well. I am so excited to meet the babies. Not sure when that will be, given that we live 1500 miles apart. It makes me miss the good old days of college, when we all lived down the hall from each other.
Speaking of college, last weekend was my 10 year college reunion. I didn't go, because I keep in touch with the people I want to keep in touch with. Still. It's weird to think I've been out of college for TEN YEARS. Wow.
I've been out of high school even longer, obviously. But the thing about Facebook is that I feel so much closer to my high school (and junior high school) friends! I'm actually really excited for our next reunion-- which will be a 20 year reunion, in 6 more years-- because with FB, I know what they're up to, and we share stories and pictures of our kids. I know the 6 years will go by really quickly, too...
That's all for now. More soon, I hope.
Showing posts with label scary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label scary. Show all posts
Monday, May 24, 2010
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Living a Cliche
Everyone has heard the line, "I love you, but I'm not in love with you." It's cheesy, and it's lame. It's the classic cheesy, lame break up line. But I have been thinking about it almost nonstop for the last 24 hours.
Mike and I were fighting last night. Again. And he said to me that even when we fight, he loves me, but he feels like maybe I don't love him. That he feels like it's been like this since before we got married. I was gobsmacked. I don't want him to feel that way... But then I started thinking, and I am worried that he's right. I'm worried that I love him, but I'm not in love with him anymore.
When he was gone, I missed him, but not like I've missed him before. I missed his familiar presence. I missed chatting with him and knowing what he was doing. Sort of like I miss my friends when they're not around. I used to feel a soul-sucking loss when he was gone, even if it was just overnight.
Then there's sex. Or rather, there isn't. We used to have a really active sex life and now we don't. I just don't feel much like doing it anymore, and when we do have sex, I mostly want it to be over with as soon as possible. I don't really like to kiss him much anymore-- not with tongue, anyway. I do give him pecks on the cheek or on the mouth all the time.
Of course, things change, so it's not like I expect to feel the same exact degree of passion I felt before, but I guess it's dawned on me how little passion I feel. I love Mike very much. He's a good person and he gave me a gorgeous baby. And I don't *not* want to be with him, I'm just not currently feeling like I absolutely *do* want to. I feel like I'm 80 and in one of those relationships where the passion has faded, but you have good companionship. Except Mike's not content with that, and I know I shouldn't be, either. It's not good for any of us, including Michaela.
Can I get my passion back? And if so, how?
Mike and I were fighting last night. Again. And he said to me that even when we fight, he loves me, but he feels like maybe I don't love him. That he feels like it's been like this since before we got married. I was gobsmacked. I don't want him to feel that way... But then I started thinking, and I am worried that he's right. I'm worried that I love him, but I'm not in love with him anymore.
When he was gone, I missed him, but not like I've missed him before. I missed his familiar presence. I missed chatting with him and knowing what he was doing. Sort of like I miss my friends when they're not around. I used to feel a soul-sucking loss when he was gone, even if it was just overnight.
Then there's sex. Or rather, there isn't. We used to have a really active sex life and now we don't. I just don't feel much like doing it anymore, and when we do have sex, I mostly want it to be over with as soon as possible. I don't really like to kiss him much anymore-- not with tongue, anyway. I do give him pecks on the cheek or on the mouth all the time.
Of course, things change, so it's not like I expect to feel the same exact degree of passion I felt before, but I guess it's dawned on me how little passion I feel. I love Mike very much. He's a good person and he gave me a gorgeous baby. And I don't *not* want to be with him, I'm just not currently feeling like I absolutely *do* want to. I feel like I'm 80 and in one of those relationships where the passion has faded, but you have good companionship. Except Mike's not content with that, and I know I shouldn't be, either. It's not good for any of us, including Michaela.
Can I get my passion back? And if so, how?
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Sandwich
I've had a lot of serious stuff on my mind, especially today. My brother called me today saying he'd gotten a call from my mom that was dad was feeling really unwell. My dad is a dynamo, always is full of energy, even at 62. Apparently he was out at a friend's house when he started feeling really dizzy and like he was going to pass out. He sat down, drank some water, had some fruit, but continued to feel unwell. He made it back home and called my mom, who sent my brother to help in case my dad needed to be carried.
(Side note: my parents don't live together. They're still married, but they live apart. Two houses, about 1.5 miles from each other.)
My brother checked on my dad, who went to lay down, and then called me. I only live about a mile (probably less, actually) from my dad, so I went over. I didn't know how long I'd be there, or if my mom would come (because she is strange, and because even if she did come, she doesn't drive on the freeway and the circuitous route she takes can mean a half hour to get to my dad's house, and because she doesn't have a cell phone, so I can't reach her if she's not home), so I brought a book. I talked to my dad, found out what happened, told him I'd stick around to check on him. Got out my book, read for a few minutes before my mom showed up. She sent me back home to get my blood pressure cuff. My dad has high blood pressure and is on meds, so one of our thoughts was that maybe he had a sudden drop in blood pressure (or blood sugar, though he's not a diabetic as far as we know). His blood pressure was high, which was worrisome to me since he is on meds. He was cold, he was lethargic, and he seemed to be having a hard time paying attention. We let him rest some more and checked on him and his blood pressure again. It was better, but still high.
I suggested to him, and to my mom, that we take him to the doctor. He has health insurance, so there's no reason not to go. Except that he's a man and hates going to the doctor. He said no. My mom thought he should go, but she asked him if he wanted to and he declined. After a little bit of that, I made an executive decision that he really needed to go. I called the nurse line and talked to a nurse who asked me questions and then asked to talk to my dad. If I hadn't had the nurse on the phone already, he never would have agreed to talk to a nurse, but I just handed my dad the phone and said, "here, the nurse wants to ask you some questions." The first thing out of my dad's mouth was, "I feel fine!" I left the room so my dad would feel more comfortable giving honest answers and came back in when I heard my dad say, no he would prefer to go in tomorrow. I took the phone at that point and set up an appointment for about an hour later. Sorry, Dad, you don't have a choice.
We took a family field trip to urgent care. I drove my parents. My brother met us there. It was like a jolly old field trip. Actually, it wasn't, but my mom sort of treated it that way. She and my dad went in together to see the doctor, who ordered a bunch of tests but let him go home. They're looking at several things, including the possibility of diabetes, which as an older African American man who eats like crap (taco shop 4 times a week, plus lunch meat, hot dogs, canned chili, and other things that are incredibly high in sodium), is a good possibility.
On the way home, I tried talking to them both about making better choices. My mom lives on cigarettes and Pepsi. My dad on the aforementioned foods and sugary drinks like soda and iced tea. They basically told me they're too set in their ways, that they like to eat what they like to eat, and that everyone is going to die, so why worry about it? My dad bragged about the only vegetables he eats being (iceberg) lettuce and tomatoes, and said that if he can't eat what he likes, what's the point of eating? I told him that if he ate better, he could possibly not have to take blood pressure medication anymore, and I pointed out to both of them that they could live a long time, could possibly avoid dying of some awful thing (this is especially true in my mom's case. 40+ years of cigarette smoking seems like begging for cancer), and could stick around long enough to see Michaela grow up. And they totally blew me off.
I guess today is the first time it hit me that since I've had Michaela, I'm officially part of "The Sandwich Generation." I'm trapped between my parents and my baby. Someday, probably soon, I will have to take care of the older and the younger generation. And in the case of my parents, it's not just health, it's also financial. The two-house situation they currently maintain isn't sustainable. My mom doesn't work and my dad doesn't make that much money. So it's stupid to be paying mortgage and rent, to pay two of all the utility bills, etc. But they won't change. Their answer when I talk to them about that is the same as their answer when I talk about health stuff: we are adults, we can do what we want. They don't care that they're in the process of screwing me over. They're too short-sighted or too proud or too blindly optimistic or too I don't know what to see that at some point, something is going to happen and I'm going to have to take care of them. Certainly my brother can't. He's a good person, but he works as a bar back, four days a week. He can hardly afford to take care of himself (because of his bad habits, which he learned/inherited from my parents. In fact, he recently declared bankruptcy at the ripe old age of 27). So it will all fall on me and on Mike, who just today said he expects my mom is going to have to move in with us at some point because of her bad financial situation.
Life in the middle of this sandwich is pretty scary. I hope not to do this to Michaela.
(Side note: my parents don't live together. They're still married, but they live apart. Two houses, about 1.5 miles from each other.)
My brother checked on my dad, who went to lay down, and then called me. I only live about a mile (probably less, actually) from my dad, so I went over. I didn't know how long I'd be there, or if my mom would come (because she is strange, and because even if she did come, she doesn't drive on the freeway and the circuitous route she takes can mean a half hour to get to my dad's house, and because she doesn't have a cell phone, so I can't reach her if she's not home), so I brought a book. I talked to my dad, found out what happened, told him I'd stick around to check on him. Got out my book, read for a few minutes before my mom showed up. She sent me back home to get my blood pressure cuff. My dad has high blood pressure and is on meds, so one of our thoughts was that maybe he had a sudden drop in blood pressure (or blood sugar, though he's not a diabetic as far as we know). His blood pressure was high, which was worrisome to me since he is on meds. He was cold, he was lethargic, and he seemed to be having a hard time paying attention. We let him rest some more and checked on him and his blood pressure again. It was better, but still high.
I suggested to him, and to my mom, that we take him to the doctor. He has health insurance, so there's no reason not to go. Except that he's a man and hates going to the doctor. He said no. My mom thought he should go, but she asked him if he wanted to and he declined. After a little bit of that, I made an executive decision that he really needed to go. I called the nurse line and talked to a nurse who asked me questions and then asked to talk to my dad. If I hadn't had the nurse on the phone already, he never would have agreed to talk to a nurse, but I just handed my dad the phone and said, "here, the nurse wants to ask you some questions." The first thing out of my dad's mouth was, "I feel fine!" I left the room so my dad would feel more comfortable giving honest answers and came back in when I heard my dad say, no he would prefer to go in tomorrow. I took the phone at that point and set up an appointment for about an hour later. Sorry, Dad, you don't have a choice.
We took a family field trip to urgent care. I drove my parents. My brother met us there. It was like a jolly old field trip. Actually, it wasn't, but my mom sort of treated it that way. She and my dad went in together to see the doctor, who ordered a bunch of tests but let him go home. They're looking at several things, including the possibility of diabetes, which as an older African American man who eats like crap (taco shop 4 times a week, plus lunch meat, hot dogs, canned chili, and other things that are incredibly high in sodium), is a good possibility.
On the way home, I tried talking to them both about making better choices. My mom lives on cigarettes and Pepsi. My dad on the aforementioned foods and sugary drinks like soda and iced tea. They basically told me they're too set in their ways, that they like to eat what they like to eat, and that everyone is going to die, so why worry about it? My dad bragged about the only vegetables he eats being (iceberg) lettuce and tomatoes, and said that if he can't eat what he likes, what's the point of eating? I told him that if he ate better, he could possibly not have to take blood pressure medication anymore, and I pointed out to both of them that they could live a long time, could possibly avoid dying of some awful thing (this is especially true in my mom's case. 40+ years of cigarette smoking seems like begging for cancer), and could stick around long enough to see Michaela grow up. And they totally blew me off.
I guess today is the first time it hit me that since I've had Michaela, I'm officially part of "The Sandwich Generation." I'm trapped between my parents and my baby. Someday, probably soon, I will have to take care of the older and the younger generation. And in the case of my parents, it's not just health, it's also financial. The two-house situation they currently maintain isn't sustainable. My mom doesn't work and my dad doesn't make that much money. So it's stupid to be paying mortgage and rent, to pay two of all the utility bills, etc. But they won't change. Their answer when I talk to them about that is the same as their answer when I talk about health stuff: we are adults, we can do what we want. They don't care that they're in the process of screwing me over. They're too short-sighted or too proud or too blindly optimistic or too I don't know what to see that at some point, something is going to happen and I'm going to have to take care of them. Certainly my brother can't. He's a good person, but he works as a bar back, four days a week. He can hardly afford to take care of himself (because of his bad habits, which he learned/inherited from my parents. In fact, he recently declared bankruptcy at the ripe old age of 27). So it will all fall on me and on Mike, who just today said he expects my mom is going to have to move in with us at some point because of her bad financial situation.
Life in the middle of this sandwich is pretty scary. I hope not to do this to Michaela.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
In the hospital
Following up on my post about induction, here's what happened to us after Michaela was born.
We spent several hours in our Labor & Delivery room, then were transported to a recovery room. Fortunately, we ended up with a room to ourselves. That had been one of my biggest worries about the process; I didn't want to have to share a tiny (tiny!) room with Mike, Michaela, another woman, her baby, and her partner. I can't imagine what it would be like to have to share, considering the constant flow of people in and out of our room. Nurses checking my vitals and my blood pressure (since I was on some heavy duty drugs), nurses checking the baby. Doctors checking me, doctors checking the baby. People to collect linens, people to drop off and pick up food trays. Multiply all of that by two and I would have died.
Anyway, so we were in the room, recovering. They'd run some tests on Michaela and eventually it came out that she was jaundiced, which is too high a level of a substance called bilirubin. Jaundice is common in kids, especially preemies, whose livers haven't developed sufficiently by the time they come out. After one night in our room with us, Michaela had to go to the nursery to be under "bili lights," which are lights that break down the bilirubin. The most important thing, the doctors and nurses said, is for the baby to be under the lights and to eat as much as possible, because the bilirubin binds to the protein and is passed in feces. Unfortunately, Michaela and I were having (and continue to have) trouble with breastfeeding. I was so upset and so stressed out, between those two things. I cried and cried and cried.
In the scheme of things, being jaundiced isn't a big deal. And considering all the problems preemies can have, it's really wonderful that was all she was dealing with. Further, we were in a hospital, surrounded by wonderful, caring nurses who really went out of their way to be good to me and to Michaela. Better that than to be at home and have something go wrote, or to have an uncaring staff.
The doctors were ready to release me after a couple of days, but Michaela needed to be under the lights for at least 24, more like 30 hours. Sunday night at about 11 p.m. she went under the bili lights (I think; it's all a blur). Monday night at 11 p.m. was 24 hours, but they left her under until about 6 a.m. on Tuesday. They took her blood every six hours to run tests; that was really hard to watch because she screamed when they pricked her and squeezed her little foot to get the blood out.
My doctors kept me admitted so I could tend to Michaela and every two-to-three hours, Mike and/or I would go down to the nursery to feed her, or bring her to the room to feed her. We'd gotten to a point where I was so stressed about he difficulty feeding that I decided to give her formula from a bottle in addition to breastfeeding, and that was a huge load off.
Tuesday morning, Michaela's bilirubin level was down enough that we could take her off the bili lights, with the knowledge that we'd have to go back to the doctor in a day and a half to have her tested again. We got to spend some time with her on Tuesday, which was the nicest thing in the world after her being so far away from us for so long. Mike went home and cleaned up a bit, brought me a change of clothes. Michaela and I took a nap together and hung out. The lactation consultant came by again and offered some more tips. It was a good day. That night, at about 9 p.m., we were released and got to bring our baby home. FINALLY!
We spent several hours in our Labor & Delivery room, then were transported to a recovery room. Fortunately, we ended up with a room to ourselves. That had been one of my biggest worries about the process; I didn't want to have to share a tiny (tiny!) room with Mike, Michaela, another woman, her baby, and her partner. I can't imagine what it would be like to have to share, considering the constant flow of people in and out of our room. Nurses checking my vitals and my blood pressure (since I was on some heavy duty drugs), nurses checking the baby. Doctors checking me, doctors checking the baby. People to collect linens, people to drop off and pick up food trays. Multiply all of that by two and I would have died.
Anyway, so we were in the room, recovering. They'd run some tests on Michaela and eventually it came out that she was jaundiced, which is too high a level of a substance called bilirubin. Jaundice is common in kids, especially preemies, whose livers haven't developed sufficiently by the time they come out. After one night in our room with us, Michaela had to go to the nursery to be under "bili lights," which are lights that break down the bilirubin. The most important thing, the doctors and nurses said, is for the baby to be under the lights and to eat as much as possible, because the bilirubin binds to the protein and is passed in feces. Unfortunately, Michaela and I were having (and continue to have) trouble with breastfeeding. I was so upset and so stressed out, between those two things. I cried and cried and cried.
In the scheme of things, being jaundiced isn't a big deal. And considering all the problems preemies can have, it's really wonderful that was all she was dealing with. Further, we were in a hospital, surrounded by wonderful, caring nurses who really went out of their way to be good to me and to Michaela. Better that than to be at home and have something go wrote, or to have an uncaring staff.
The doctors were ready to release me after a couple of days, but Michaela needed to be under the lights for at least 24, more like 30 hours. Sunday night at about 11 p.m. she went under the bili lights (I think; it's all a blur). Monday night at 11 p.m. was 24 hours, but they left her under until about 6 a.m. on Tuesday. They took her blood every six hours to run tests; that was really hard to watch because she screamed when they pricked her and squeezed her little foot to get the blood out.
My doctors kept me admitted so I could tend to Michaela and every two-to-three hours, Mike and/or I would go down to the nursery to feed her, or bring her to the room to feed her. We'd gotten to a point where I was so stressed about he difficulty feeding that I decided to give her formula from a bottle in addition to breastfeeding, and that was a huge load off.
Tuesday morning, Michaela's bilirubin level was down enough that we could take her off the bili lights, with the knowledge that we'd have to go back to the doctor in a day and a half to have her tested again. We got to spend some time with her on Tuesday, which was the nicest thing in the world after her being so far away from us for so long. Mike went home and cleaned up a bit, brought me a change of clothes. Michaela and I took a nap together and hung out. The lactation consultant came by again and offered some more tips. It was a good day. That night, at about 9 p.m., we were released and got to bring our baby home. FINALLY!
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Induction
I've already written about going to labor & Delivery Triage on the night of Tuesday, Dec. 8. The next day, Wednesday, Dec. 9, I spent the day at home working and then drove up to Orange County for my old job's Christmas party. I got home from that at about 10 p.m. and crashed. Apparently, Mike and I were both so tired that we slept through the alarm that was supposed to wake us in time for my 10 a.m. OB appointment, because we woke at 9:50 instead! Rushing, knowing we HAD to make the appointment because of my L&D Triage experience a couple of nights before, each of us threw on the clothes we wore the day before and hauled ass to the OB's office. No breakfast, no teeth brushing, no nothing. We also had an NST immediately after the appointment, so we knew we needed to hurry to make that on time, too.
Got to the doctor's office, checked in, were seen. My OB asked us what had been going on and I told her about the Triage visit. She looked at the info in my files, did an internal exam (pronouncing me slightly dilated and effaced), looked at the swelling in my feet (which was pretty heavy, if you ask me), and, oddly enough, checked my reflexes. She tapped my knees and my legs sprang out. I asked if that was good and she said no. Then she said she wanted to run some tests on me and to go to the lab after the appointment to have some blood drawn and to give a urine sample. She said not to leave the NST until she'd seen the test results.
We got to the hospital, which is where the NSTs are done, and did the test. Our nurse had the doctor on call in the NST lab look at the results of the blood and urine work and he said we were fine and could leave-- this time. Mike and I walked out of the office talking about how crazy it is to think about one day coming to the hospital and being told, "sorry, we're going to keep you here." We'd just gotten to the elevators when the NST nurse came running after us, calling my name and saying my OB had called just after we left and that the results weren't good and that she was going to induce.
Yup, that's right. Induce. Right then, right there. No leaving the hospital, no going home. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. Just go to the L&D ward and have a baby.
I was 35 weeks and 5 days along.
I was in shock. Total shock. I got scared and teary. We went to the check-in area and signed some papers and were able to convince a very nice admitting staffer to let us go get some lunch, given we hadn't had breakfast and didn't know how long anything would take. Mike wanted to go out somewhere but I said we should just go to the cafeteria and eat there, so that's what we did. While there, we made some phone calls. I called the dog sitter, who fortunately was able to come and get the dog and watch him, and Mike let his family know. I sent a text message to a few friends, but held off on telling my family because it would have been extra stress I didn't need or want.
Once lunch was done, we went back upstairs to L&D and were settled in "High Risk 1." I stripped down and they put an IV in me to run pitocin and miso-something or other to bring on labor, and magnesium sulfate, which was to ward off seizures. My OB came and explained that some of the levels associated with my liver were off, that my blood pressure was up, and that the edema in my feet and jerky reflexes were signs that I was pre-eclamptic. The mag sulfate was to warn off seizures, which is what happens when you become eclamptic.
I sent Mike home to get some stuff, giving him a list I'd made out at lunch of things I wanted/needed. Camera. Socks. "What to Expect When You're Expecting." Random stuff. It was very strange because we had no idea how long we'd be there, and I hadn't paid much attention to the "what to pack" info in any of my books because we still had a while. (Ironically, one of the things I'd planned to do during the weekend was to pack my bag.)
Thursday went by pretty slowly. At 4 p.m., I was 1 cm dilated andd 50 % effaced. I tried to sleep when I could because I knew I'd need the energy for labor. People kept coming in to take my blood pressure and vitals. At 9 p.m., I was still only 1 cm dilated and 50% effaced.
Later, like 1 a.m. (I think) Friday morning, we were moved to "L&D 10," a labor and delivery room that would be our home for the birthing process. Mike was with me and slept in a chair that sort of reclined into a bed. I was dilating and effacing very slowly. At 8 a.m. on Friday, they broke my water. I was concerned because of the velamentous cord insertion issue, but it was fine and there were no problems. The water breaking should result in stronger contractions, they said. That happened, but they still weren't very strong and I was still not moving along well.
At 6 p.m. on Friday, we were at a decision point. Should we keep going with the pitocin or do a c-section? By that point, I was on internal monitors to monitor the baby's heart rate and the strength of my contractions. The pitocin was being given at "10," the highest level they usually use, and it clearly wasn't doing much. My contractions were regular, but they weren't strong enough to be considered "active." At the same time, because of the baby's size, the OB was seeing some swelling of her head, which is sometimes a sign that the baby is too big to be pushed out vaginally. So that was another thing in favor of doing a c-section. I wanted to try to do it vaginally, but didn't want to have it get to a stress point where they'd need to do an emergency c-section. The doctor who was with us (not my OB) was amazing and really wonderful. She presented us with our options, which included upping the pitocin up to "30" if the baby would tolerate it. Mike and I decided that's what we would do, and we agreed with the doctor that we'd give it another 2-4 hours to see if that would work. Every 1/2 hour, they would bump up the amount of pitocin. Eventually, I got up to 4 cm dilated and we called in the nurse anesthetist to give me an epidural
The epidural was a godsend. It made everything so much easier (though Mike's use of the breathing technique we learned in childbirth class was nice, it wasn't as nice as the epidural!). The drugs had worked and I was definitely in active labor and was feeling the contractions, which were pretty intense. It was a relief to feel numb except for some pressure, and to be able to push a button for additional pain blocking power every 10 minutes as needed.
(Side note: scariest experience during labor came just before the epidural was done. The baby's heartbeat dived and everyone sprang into action. I've never seen people move so fast. They demanded I roll over onto my side and started doing something or other. In a weird twist, I was so out of it because of the mag sulfate-- which induces stupor in most people-- that I wasn't even fully aware of what was happening and couldn't understand why all of a sudden everyone was yelling at me to get on my side. As it turns out, they weren't sure if the baby's heartbeat really did take a dive or if it was a monitor issue or what. But it was pretty freaky.)
Finally they did another check and I was 8 cm dilated, 100% effaced. It felt like a huge victory. That was sometime Friday night. Then, later, I felt the urge t push and told my nurse. She told me to hold off on pushing and started to get a bunch of things ready and to call the doctor and to do all these things. It felt like she was taking FOREVER. All I wanted to do was bear down. When I finally was allowed to start pushing, the nurse took one of my legs and Mike took the other. Mike did the count (1-10, signifying how long to push) and each contraction, I'd do three pushes. The first one was relatively easy and I always started off strong. The next two were progressively harder to exhale for 10 seconds apiece and to push for 10 seconds apiece. The contractions were about every three minutes, and I pushed for about 1 hr, 45 minutes.
During the pushing, they would tell me, "oh, we can see the head!" or "she has lots of hair!" and things like that. They asked if I wanted to see the head and I said no, and they asked if I wanted to watch the baby crown and I said no. I pushed and pushed and pushed. When her head came out, I could definitely feel A LOT of pressure and knew it was coming out. The OB was there then (the 4th of our nearly two-day labor experience) and he had his hands inside of me as well. Thank God for the epidural. Once the head was out, then came the rest of the body, and at 12:17 a.m. on Dec. 12, 2009, Michaela was born.
(Because she was born on Saturday morning, she made it to 36 weeks. Still 1-4 weeks from "full term," though.)
I couldn't see it, but Mike said it was amazing to watch. I found it really fascinating and cool that my body just knew what to do.
The nurse took the baby to a different part of the room to administer the APGAR test and all of that and Mike stayed with me for a minute before going to be with the baby. In the meantime, the placenta didn't come out in one piece, so the doctor had to manually sweep my uterus to get it all out. It's really important that the entire placenta be delivered (or removed) because it signals your body that the baby has come and leads to all sorts of metabolic and hormonal processes for mom and baby. The OB also stitched me up because I tore as the baby was coming out. That was NOT pleasant and I hit the extra pain medicine button multiple times during each of those procedures.
Once the baby was done being checked out-- and I have no idea how long that took-- they brought her over to me and I got to hold her on my chest. She was so amazing. Not small at all, in spite of being premature. She weighed 7 pounds, 8.3 ounces (which makes me wonder how big she would have been if she'd stayed in another month) and was 20 inches long. She has a head of dark, soft, beautiful hair and sort of slate-blue eyes. Her feet and toes are long, and her hands are tiny.
People cleared out and then it was just us and the nurse. I can't remember where the baby was after that. Things were such a blur. We were in the room for a few hours before being moved to a room in "Four North," the high-risk L&D recovery unit. Fortunately, we had our own room. This was huge because one of the things I was dreading about Kaiser was having to share a room with another woman and her partner and their baby plus Mike and my baby. It became even more important later, because we ended up having to stay in the hospital a long time. (More on that in another post.)
I'm sure there's more, but this is all I can remember right now. Funny how a doctor's appointment turned into having our little one.
Got to the doctor's office, checked in, were seen. My OB asked us what had been going on and I told her about the Triage visit. She looked at the info in my files, did an internal exam (pronouncing me slightly dilated and effaced), looked at the swelling in my feet (which was pretty heavy, if you ask me), and, oddly enough, checked my reflexes. She tapped my knees and my legs sprang out. I asked if that was good and she said no. Then she said she wanted to run some tests on me and to go to the lab after the appointment to have some blood drawn and to give a urine sample. She said not to leave the NST until she'd seen the test results.
We got to the hospital, which is where the NSTs are done, and did the test. Our nurse had the doctor on call in the NST lab look at the results of the blood and urine work and he said we were fine and could leave-- this time. Mike and I walked out of the office talking about how crazy it is to think about one day coming to the hospital and being told, "sorry, we're going to keep you here." We'd just gotten to the elevators when the NST nurse came running after us, calling my name and saying my OB had called just after we left and that the results weren't good and that she was going to induce.
Yup, that's right. Induce. Right then, right there. No leaving the hospital, no going home. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. Just go to the L&D ward and have a baby.
I was 35 weeks and 5 days along.
I was in shock. Total shock. I got scared and teary. We went to the check-in area and signed some papers and were able to convince a very nice admitting staffer to let us go get some lunch, given we hadn't had breakfast and didn't know how long anything would take. Mike wanted to go out somewhere but I said we should just go to the cafeteria and eat there, so that's what we did. While there, we made some phone calls. I called the dog sitter, who fortunately was able to come and get the dog and watch him, and Mike let his family know. I sent a text message to a few friends, but held off on telling my family because it would have been extra stress I didn't need or want.
Once lunch was done, we went back upstairs to L&D and were settled in "High Risk 1." I stripped down and they put an IV in me to run pitocin and miso-something or other to bring on labor, and magnesium sulfate, which was to ward off seizures. My OB came and explained that some of the levels associated with my liver were off, that my blood pressure was up, and that the edema in my feet and jerky reflexes were signs that I was pre-eclamptic. The mag sulfate was to warn off seizures, which is what happens when you become eclamptic.
I sent Mike home to get some stuff, giving him a list I'd made out at lunch of things I wanted/needed. Camera. Socks. "What to Expect When You're Expecting." Random stuff. It was very strange because we had no idea how long we'd be there, and I hadn't paid much attention to the "what to pack" info in any of my books because we still had a while. (Ironically, one of the things I'd planned to do during the weekend was to pack my bag.)
Thursday went by pretty slowly. At 4 p.m., I was 1 cm dilated andd 50 % effaced. I tried to sleep when I could because I knew I'd need the energy for labor. People kept coming in to take my blood pressure and vitals. At 9 p.m., I was still only 1 cm dilated and 50% effaced.
Later, like 1 a.m. (I think) Friday morning, we were moved to "L&D 10," a labor and delivery room that would be our home for the birthing process. Mike was with me and slept in a chair that sort of reclined into a bed. I was dilating and effacing very slowly. At 8 a.m. on Friday, they broke my water. I was concerned because of the velamentous cord insertion issue, but it was fine and there were no problems. The water breaking should result in stronger contractions, they said. That happened, but they still weren't very strong and I was still not moving along well.
At 6 p.m. on Friday, we were at a decision point. Should we keep going with the pitocin or do a c-section? By that point, I was on internal monitors to monitor the baby's heart rate and the strength of my contractions. The pitocin was being given at "10," the highest level they usually use, and it clearly wasn't doing much. My contractions were regular, but they weren't strong enough to be considered "active." At the same time, because of the baby's size, the OB was seeing some swelling of her head, which is sometimes a sign that the baby is too big to be pushed out vaginally. So that was another thing in favor of doing a c-section. I wanted to try to do it vaginally, but didn't want to have it get to a stress point where they'd need to do an emergency c-section. The doctor who was with us (not my OB) was amazing and really wonderful. She presented us with our options, which included upping the pitocin up to "30" if the baby would tolerate it. Mike and I decided that's what we would do, and we agreed with the doctor that we'd give it another 2-4 hours to see if that would work. Every 1/2 hour, they would bump up the amount of pitocin. Eventually, I got up to 4 cm dilated and we called in the nurse anesthetist to give me an epidural
The epidural was a godsend. It made everything so much easier (though Mike's use of the breathing technique we learned in childbirth class was nice, it wasn't as nice as the epidural!). The drugs had worked and I was definitely in active labor and was feeling the contractions, which were pretty intense. It was a relief to feel numb except for some pressure, and to be able to push a button for additional pain blocking power every 10 minutes as needed.
(Side note: scariest experience during labor came just before the epidural was done. The baby's heartbeat dived and everyone sprang into action. I've never seen people move so fast. They demanded I roll over onto my side and started doing something or other. In a weird twist, I was so out of it because of the mag sulfate-- which induces stupor in most people-- that I wasn't even fully aware of what was happening and couldn't understand why all of a sudden everyone was yelling at me to get on my side. As it turns out, they weren't sure if the baby's heartbeat really did take a dive or if it was a monitor issue or what. But it was pretty freaky.)
Finally they did another check and I was 8 cm dilated, 100% effaced. It felt like a huge victory. That was sometime Friday night. Then, later, I felt the urge t push and told my nurse. She told me to hold off on pushing and started to get a bunch of things ready and to call the doctor and to do all these things. It felt like she was taking FOREVER. All I wanted to do was bear down. When I finally was allowed to start pushing, the nurse took one of my legs and Mike took the other. Mike did the count (1-10, signifying how long to push) and each contraction, I'd do three pushes. The first one was relatively easy and I always started off strong. The next two were progressively harder to exhale for 10 seconds apiece and to push for 10 seconds apiece. The contractions were about every three minutes, and I pushed for about 1 hr, 45 minutes.
During the pushing, they would tell me, "oh, we can see the head!" or "she has lots of hair!" and things like that. They asked if I wanted to see the head and I said no, and they asked if I wanted to watch the baby crown and I said no. I pushed and pushed and pushed. When her head came out, I could definitely feel A LOT of pressure and knew it was coming out. The OB was there then (the 4th of our nearly two-day labor experience) and he had his hands inside of me as well. Thank God for the epidural. Once the head was out, then came the rest of the body, and at 12:17 a.m. on Dec. 12, 2009, Michaela was born.
(Because she was born on Saturday morning, she made it to 36 weeks. Still 1-4 weeks from "full term," though.)
I couldn't see it, but Mike said it was amazing to watch. I found it really fascinating and cool that my body just knew what to do.
The nurse took the baby to a different part of the room to administer the APGAR test and all of that and Mike stayed with me for a minute before going to be with the baby. In the meantime, the placenta didn't come out in one piece, so the doctor had to manually sweep my uterus to get it all out. It's really important that the entire placenta be delivered (or removed) because it signals your body that the baby has come and leads to all sorts of metabolic and hormonal processes for mom and baby. The OB also stitched me up because I tore as the baby was coming out. That was NOT pleasant and I hit the extra pain medicine button multiple times during each of those procedures.
Once the baby was done being checked out-- and I have no idea how long that took-- they brought her over to me and I got to hold her on my chest. She was so amazing. Not small at all, in spite of being premature. She weighed 7 pounds, 8.3 ounces (which makes me wonder how big she would have been if she'd stayed in another month) and was 20 inches long. She has a head of dark, soft, beautiful hair and sort of slate-blue eyes. Her feet and toes are long, and her hands are tiny.
People cleared out and then it was just us and the nurse. I can't remember where the baby was after that. Things were such a blur. We were in the room for a few hours before being moved to a room in "Four North," the high-risk L&D recovery unit. Fortunately, we had our own room. This was huge because one of the things I was dreading about Kaiser was having to share a room with another woman and her partner and their baby plus Mike and my baby. It became even more important later, because we ended up having to stay in the hospital a long time. (More on that in another post.)
I'm sure there's more, but this is all I can remember right now. Funny how a doctor's appointment turned into having our little one.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Labor and Delivery Triage
So tonight Mike and I got to visit Labor and Delivery Triage. I hadn't felt well all day, was just a little off. I went to bed with socks on last night and when I woke up this morning, my left leg had swollen so much that the sock constricted my circulation and left a deep line. My feet look like hooves. My hands are porky. I had a slight headache (like a sinus headache), though that went away, and it was really uncomfortable to sit down all day due to pain in my left side. Later in the day, my lower back started to hurt and I started to feel a good amount of balling up in my stomach.
We went to our childbirth class tonight and I had to get up in the middle of it to go to the bathroom. All of a sudden, my stomach started hurting and I knew I had to poo. I ended up being in the bathroom so long Mike actually got up and came into the ladides' room to make sure I was okay. I was, but that sealed it for me-- time to go to L&D Triage.
Registering once we got there was easy, though we had to wait a little bit before I actually got any attention. I was taken to an exam room, put on a fetal heart rate monitor and blood pressure cuff. Took off my pants so they could do an internal exam to check my cervix. Drank some water so they could do a urine test to look at protein and sugar in my pee, plus check for a urinary tract infection.
It turns out I was having contractions about every 10 minutes. My blood pressure looked pretty good-- higher than during the NSTs, but low for me-- and the baby's heart was doing fine. My cervix is soft, the doctor said, but still high; she also said I will probably deliver early, though she wouldn't commit to how early. She said to think of what I was feeling today as my baseline; anything more than this means I'm getting closer to popping.
It was good practice to go tonight and to get to know what to expect. Mike was fabulous, as expected. He's going to be a great dad. So now we just wait and see when Poppy wants to make her appearance in the world.
We went to our childbirth class tonight and I had to get up in the middle of it to go to the bathroom. All of a sudden, my stomach started hurting and I knew I had to poo. I ended up being in the bathroom so long Mike actually got up and came into the ladides' room to make sure I was okay. I was, but that sealed it for me-- time to go to L&D Triage.
Registering once we got there was easy, though we had to wait a little bit before I actually got any attention. I was taken to an exam room, put on a fetal heart rate monitor and blood pressure cuff. Took off my pants so they could do an internal exam to check my cervix. Drank some water so they could do a urine test to look at protein and sugar in my pee, plus check for a urinary tract infection.
It turns out I was having contractions about every 10 minutes. My blood pressure looked pretty good-- higher than during the NSTs, but low for me-- and the baby's heart was doing fine. My cervix is soft, the doctor said, but still high; she also said I will probably deliver early, though she wouldn't commit to how early. She said to think of what I was feeling today as my baseline; anything more than this means I'm getting closer to popping.
It was good practice to go tonight and to get to know what to expect. Mike was fabulous, as expected. He's going to be a great dad. So now we just wait and see when Poppy wants to make her appearance in the world.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
New things to worry about
So I went in for my 1st non-stress test (NST) the other day. I actually found the test very relaxing. I laid there, they had monitors on the baby's heart and on my blood pressure, and they fed me ice chips to get the baby to move around. Mike went with me, which was nice, and they did another (though low-tech) ultrasound to check the fluid around the baby.
The nurse had a little card with my info on it, including the reason for my being there. As far as I knew going in, I am having 2 NSTs/week because of my high blood pressure. Imagine my surprise, then, to see "velamentous insertion" written on the card next to hypertension. I remembered one of the ultrasound techs saying something about the cord being attached on the side, but the tech didn't make a big deal out of it and my OB didn't make a big deal out of it, so it didn't really occur to me to be worried about it. That is, not until I got home and googled the condition.
Here's what I found: In velamentous insertion, the cord is not connected to the placental plate, and its vessels travel between the membranes before attaching eccentrically to the placenta. It happens in 1.1% in singleton pregnancies and 8.7% of twins.
Associated anomalies are found in 5.9-8.5% of cases. These include:
* Esophageal atresia.
* Obstructive uropathies.
* Congenital hip dislocation.
* Asymmetrical head shape.
* Spina bifida.
* Ventricular septal defects.
* Single umbilical artery.
* Bilobate placenta.
* Trisomy 21.
Yes, lots of good things. I immediately freaked out and sent a note to my doctor. I acknowledged in the note that I would image the genetic screening I went through would have identified some of those issues (like the trisomy 21) and that the monitoring with ultrasounds would have identified others (like asymmetrical head shape), but that I was concerned nonetheless and did I need to be? She wrote back that it's actually a common problem that doesn't generally cause issues and that the previous testing would have caught things. She said that the biggest issue with the condition is the baby not growing well, which obviously isn't a problem with my ginmormous Poppy. Her closing line? "Try not to worry."
Ah, yes. Try not to worry. Easier said than done.
I will say, though, that it's too late to do anything (as in terminate the pregnancy) if the baby did have some sort of problem and all I can do at this point is move forward. She has a strong heartbeat, has been kicking like crazy, looks fine (but big) on the ultrasounds. I have to hope things are fine. And soon enough, I'll find out for sure.
The other interesting thing that came out of my NST is that apparently I'm having a lot of contractions. The nurse said my uterus is "very active" and when another, different nurse saw the results of my monitoring, she commented on the contractions, too. They said if I feel 4+ contractions in an hour or the baby balling up or anything, that I need to go to Labor and Delivery triage immediately. That, of course, brought me right back to my concern about not knowing what exactly a contraction feels like. I've been thinking I'm having Braxton Hicks (and maybe this proves that I am?), but I'm not quite sure. So when I go in tomorrow, I am going to try to ask some more specific questions about what I should be feeling for. My plan up until this point has been unless something hurts or is incredibly, super uncomfortable, to assume I'm fine and not worry about it. Seems like that worked for most of human history, so it must be okay now, too, right?
The nurse had a little card with my info on it, including the reason for my being there. As far as I knew going in, I am having 2 NSTs/week because of my high blood pressure. Imagine my surprise, then, to see "velamentous insertion" written on the card next to hypertension. I remembered one of the ultrasound techs saying something about the cord being attached on the side, but the tech didn't make a big deal out of it and my OB didn't make a big deal out of it, so it didn't really occur to me to be worried about it. That is, not until I got home and googled the condition.
Here's what I found: In velamentous insertion, the cord is not connected to the placental plate, and its vessels travel between the membranes before attaching eccentrically to the placenta. It happens in 1.1% in singleton pregnancies and 8.7% of twins.
Associated anomalies are found in 5.9-8.5% of cases. These include:
* Esophageal atresia.
* Obstructive uropathies.
* Congenital hip dislocation.
* Asymmetrical head shape.
* Spina bifida.
* Ventricular septal defects.
* Single umbilical artery.
* Bilobate placenta.
* Trisomy 21.
Yes, lots of good things. I immediately freaked out and sent a note to my doctor. I acknowledged in the note that I would image the genetic screening I went through would have identified some of those issues (like the trisomy 21) and that the monitoring with ultrasounds would have identified others (like asymmetrical head shape), but that I was concerned nonetheless and did I need to be? She wrote back that it's actually a common problem that doesn't generally cause issues and that the previous testing would have caught things. She said that the biggest issue with the condition is the baby not growing well, which obviously isn't a problem with my ginmormous Poppy. Her closing line? "Try not to worry."
Ah, yes. Try not to worry. Easier said than done.
I will say, though, that it's too late to do anything (as in terminate the pregnancy) if the baby did have some sort of problem and all I can do at this point is move forward. She has a strong heartbeat, has been kicking like crazy, looks fine (but big) on the ultrasounds. I have to hope things are fine. And soon enough, I'll find out for sure.
The other interesting thing that came out of my NST is that apparently I'm having a lot of contractions. The nurse said my uterus is "very active" and when another, different nurse saw the results of my monitoring, she commented on the contractions, too. They said if I feel 4+ contractions in an hour or the baby balling up or anything, that I need to go to Labor and Delivery triage immediately. That, of course, brought me right back to my concern about not knowing what exactly a contraction feels like. I've been thinking I'm having Braxton Hicks (and maybe this proves that I am?), but I'm not quite sure. So when I go in tomorrow, I am going to try to ask some more specific questions about what I should be feeling for. My plan up until this point has been unless something hurts or is incredibly, super uncomfortable, to assume I'm fine and not worry about it. Seems like that worked for most of human history, so it must be okay now, too, right?
Thursday, November 19, 2009
How do I hold this thing?
Earlier this week, a friend of Mike's stopped by. She has a 6-month old daughter and very kindly gave us a bunch of stuff (seriously, a lot, including two swings a co-sleeper thing, a breast pump, etc.). Mike needed to show her something in the garage, so the friend asked if I wanted to hold her daughter.
The thing about it is, is that I haven't really ever been around babies. I don't really know how to hold them and I'm always really nervous because I would have to drop the baby or hurt it in some way. I know I'll be okay when it's my own baby (the whole "you break it, you buy it" thing; well, I already own the baby), but when it's someone else's, I just feel weird. I was holding the baby fine, sitting in my glider and rocking her a little bit, but when the mom came back in and I needed to hand the baby over, I didn't know where to hold the baby that the mom could still grab her. I had the baby under her arms, but that's where I would grab the baby if I were taking her from someone, so it was awkward to me. The mom just grabbed the baby like a football and got her all settled away, but I was embarrassed. It was clear I had no idea what I'm doing-- Mike commented on it afterward, and I'm sure the mom noticed.
I am giving myself permission to be awkward and to be embarrassed because my baby isn't here yet and I know I have a lot to learn. But I'm really counting on my maternal instinct kick in soon!
The thing about it is, is that I haven't really ever been around babies. I don't really know how to hold them and I'm always really nervous because I would have to drop the baby or hurt it in some way. I know I'll be okay when it's my own baby (the whole "you break it, you buy it" thing; well, I already own the baby), but when it's someone else's, I just feel weird. I was holding the baby fine, sitting in my glider and rocking her a little bit, but when the mom came back in and I needed to hand the baby over, I didn't know where to hold the baby that the mom could still grab her. I had the baby under her arms, but that's where I would grab the baby if I were taking her from someone, so it was awkward to me. The mom just grabbed the baby like a football and got her all settled away, but I was embarrassed. It was clear I had no idea what I'm doing-- Mike commented on it afterward, and I'm sure the mom noticed.
I am giving myself permission to be awkward and to be embarrassed because my baby isn't here yet and I know I have a lot to learn. But I'm really counting on my maternal instinct kick in soon!
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
"No worries"
So the ultrasound. Apparently I didn't drink the water early enough so they had a hard time looking at my cervix and had to use the dildo cam. The baby looks good-- had her hands in front of her face, boxer style. Put 'em up! But she's big. Or I'm further along by 3-4 weeks than they thought based on my 8 week ultrasound.
I emailed my doctor to ask what she thought. Her reply was actually really nice. (I always am self conscious about bothering her, which I know is stupid, but still.) It began with "no worries." She went on to say the baby is just big, that the 8 week ultrasound is waaaay more accurate than this and that they're not going to move my due date and that I don't need to be freaked out about possibly delivering about a month earlier than we'd planned. She also said that my high blood pressure could have made the baby smaller, but that it's not the case and I should be happy about that. And I don't have gestational diabetes, so the baby isn't big because of that. So I'm going to stick with her advice and focus on "no worries."
I emailed my doctor to ask what she thought. Her reply was actually really nice. (I always am self conscious about bothering her, which I know is stupid, but still.) It began with "no worries." She went on to say the baby is just big, that the 8 week ultrasound is waaaay more accurate than this and that they're not going to move my due date and that I don't need to be freaked out about possibly delivering about a month earlier than we'd planned. She also said that my high blood pressure could have made the baby smaller, but that it's not the case and I should be happy about that. And I don't have gestational diabetes, so the baby isn't big because of that. So I'm going to stick with her advice and focus on "no worries."
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Another ultrasound
The one good thing about being a "high risk" pregnancy (because of my blood pressure) is that we get an extra ultrasound to make sure the baby is growing appropriately. Tomorrow morning is our growth scan, and Mike and I are both really excited to see how big Poppy has gotten. I'm nervous, of course. I have fears that one of her limbs will have fallen off or that something's going to be wrong. I guess that's just part of being a mom. She's been actively kicking me, her heartbeat has sounded good each time I've been to the doctor, etc. So hopefully tomorrow we'll find that everything is okay and I can stop worrying. For now. ;)
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Buh-bye commute
I officially accepted the offer I got and gave notice at my job. I feel like a tremendous weight has been lifted off my shoulders. No more long commute! I counted, and with today's drive being done, I only have to make the drive 8 more times. My boss, and everyone at work, took it really well. They all basically say they will miss me, that I am a great employee/boss/colleague, and that they understand that this is the best decision for my family-- which it is.
Last night, we went to our first childbirth education class (more on that later), and as we learned about the signs of labor to watch for and what to pay attention to, I felt like I had an epiphany. "Oh my god," I thought. "I've been stupidly brave about all this!" What if something happened while I was in the middle of my drive? What if something happened while I was stuck in a traffic jam? What if I was far away (up to 90 miles) from my hospital and my husband? Of course I'd call 911 and would figure something out, and I realize labor can be a process that takes a long time, but this way I'm not tempting fate. Not to mention once the baby is born-- this way I won't have to be so far away from her if something happens. I was doing what I needed to do to keep my job and to do a good job, but as Poppy's birth gets closer and closer, it's time to stop taking chances of this type. So I'm feeling good about my decision, even as I have some apprehension about my new job and the exclusive-work-at-home arrangement that comes with it.
Last night, we went to our first childbirth education class (more on that later), and as we learned about the signs of labor to watch for and what to pay attention to, I felt like I had an epiphany. "Oh my god," I thought. "I've been stupidly brave about all this!" What if something happened while I was in the middle of my drive? What if something happened while I was stuck in a traffic jam? What if I was far away (up to 90 miles) from my hospital and my husband? Of course I'd call 911 and would figure something out, and I realize labor can be a process that takes a long time, but this way I'm not tempting fate. Not to mention once the baby is born-- this way I won't have to be so far away from her if something happens. I was doing what I needed to do to keep my job and to do a good job, but as Poppy's birth gets closer and closer, it's time to stop taking chances of this type. So I'm feeling good about my decision, even as I have some apprehension about my new job and the exclusive-work-at-home arrangement that comes with it.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Not getting better
I'm not sure how long it's supposed to take for one to recover from the flu. I'm sure it's more than 2 days, but I'm tired of being sick and tired of being scared for my baby. You see, last night, I dug out "What to Expect When You're Expecting" to look up info on fevers. For pregnant women, anything at or above 100.4 is considered "you should call the doctor" worrisome. And if you feel decreased fetal movements, you should immediately call Labor and Delivery, because that's a really big sign of trouble.
Took my temperature at various times last night. The first time I took it (7ish), it was 99.9. An hour later, 100.4. An hour later, 100.6. At 10:35, it was up to 100.8. I took 1000 mgs of Tylenol and waited to see if it would go down. An hour later, it was still 100.8, so I called the After Hours Nurse, who then transferred me to Labor and Delivery triage. The nurse there told me to give it another hour and to drink as many cold fluids as I could in that time, hoping the fever would break. Well thankfully it did and at 12:45, I was down to 98.7 (which is still a little high for me, as I'm usually more like 96- or 97-point something). Each time I got up to go to the bathroom, I'd check my temperature, and it stayed low for a while. Then, when I woke up at a little before 6, it was back up to 99.7, and a little before 8, we were back to 100.6. sigh.
I never realized until I was pregnant that such a low-grade fever could be such an issue. I mean, really, 100.4+ isn't that hot. But when you're pregnant, everything is about the health of your baby. So here's hoping the baby is okay.
I'm off to the doctor this morning to get seen. I don't think they'll do anything for me, but it's better safe than sorry.
Took my temperature at various times last night. The first time I took it (7ish), it was 99.9. An hour later, 100.4. An hour later, 100.6. At 10:35, it was up to 100.8. I took 1000 mgs of Tylenol and waited to see if it would go down. An hour later, it was still 100.8, so I called the After Hours Nurse, who then transferred me to Labor and Delivery triage. The nurse there told me to give it another hour and to drink as many cold fluids as I could in that time, hoping the fever would break. Well thankfully it did and at 12:45, I was down to 98.7 (which is still a little high for me, as I'm usually more like 96- or 97-point something). Each time I got up to go to the bathroom, I'd check my temperature, and it stayed low for a while. Then, when I woke up at a little before 6, it was back up to 99.7, and a little before 8, we were back to 100.6. sigh.
I never realized until I was pregnant that such a low-grade fever could be such an issue. I mean, really, 100.4+ isn't that hot. But when you're pregnant, everything is about the health of your baby. So here's hoping the baby is okay.
I'm off to the doctor this morning to get seen. I don't think they'll do anything for me, but it's better safe than sorry.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Feeling a little sick
For the last week or so, I've been feeling like I'm getting a cold. I don't want a cold! I'm pregnant and having a cold can't be good for the baby. But I'd rather have a cold than the seasonal flu or the swine flu.
When I went in last week for the glucose screening, I also had to get a RhoGam shot. The nurse asked me if I also wanted the flu shot. That morning, I'd awakened to a story on NPR about how pregnant women are 6 times more likely to die from the swine flu. Pretty compelling reason to get the vaccine, huh? But I still wasn't set on a decision. The nurse said if I came back on/after Oct. 12, I could get both flu and H1N1 shots (one in each arm).
Well, between other research I've done and feeling sick, I've now decided yes, I'll get the vaccines. I have been reading a lot about demand for the H1N1 shots, so yesterday I sent a reminder to myself to call Kaiser today to see if I needed an appointment or if I could just walk in. The woman at the appointment center had no idea, had to call the OBGYN department, which didn't answer. So she left a message and told me I'd get a call back.
I did get a call back, and just a few minutes later. The nurse from OBGYN told me they didn't have any H1N1 shots, didn't know if or when they'd be getting any. I explained that the nurse I saw last week (literally a week ago today) specifically told me they'd be in and to come back. Today's nurse said the one I spoke with last week had no idea what she was talking about, but that maybe they'd have some shots in November. Um, okay.
About 15 minutes after that, I got ANOTHER call from Kaiser. Same nurse I'd spoken with earlier. She said she's spoken with a nurse at my medical office and that they may have some H1N1 vaccine coming in after all, later this week or early next week, and that I should call the main appointment number again to see. So it looks like I'll get to have this adventure again this Friday (or next Monday, when I have an actual appointment already scheduled).
I'm trying to remind myself that I didn't want the vaccine in the first place, so if I don't get it, it will be fine. And it will be fine, assuming I don't come into contact with anyone who has, and passes on to me, swine flu.
When can I start working from home?!?!
When I went in last week for the glucose screening, I also had to get a RhoGam shot. The nurse asked me if I also wanted the flu shot. That morning, I'd awakened to a story on NPR about how pregnant women are 6 times more likely to die from the swine flu. Pretty compelling reason to get the vaccine, huh? But I still wasn't set on a decision. The nurse said if I came back on/after Oct. 12, I could get both flu and H1N1 shots (one in each arm).
Well, between other research I've done and feeling sick, I've now decided yes, I'll get the vaccines. I have been reading a lot about demand for the H1N1 shots, so yesterday I sent a reminder to myself to call Kaiser today to see if I needed an appointment or if I could just walk in. The woman at the appointment center had no idea, had to call the OBGYN department, which didn't answer. So she left a message and told me I'd get a call back.
I did get a call back, and just a few minutes later. The nurse from OBGYN told me they didn't have any H1N1 shots, didn't know if or when they'd be getting any. I explained that the nurse I saw last week (literally a week ago today) specifically told me they'd be in and to come back. Today's nurse said the one I spoke with last week had no idea what she was talking about, but that maybe they'd have some shots in November. Um, okay.
About 15 minutes after that, I got ANOTHER call from Kaiser. Same nurse I'd spoken with earlier. She said she's spoken with a nurse at my medical office and that they may have some H1N1 vaccine coming in after all, later this week or early next week, and that I should call the main appointment number again to see. So it looks like I'll get to have this adventure again this Friday (or next Monday, when I have an actual appointment already scheduled).
I'm trying to remind myself that I didn't want the vaccine in the first place, so if I don't get it, it will be fine. And it will be fine, assuming I don't come into contact with anyone who has, and passes on to me, swine flu.
When can I start working from home?!?!
Monday, October 5, 2009
Job changes
I haven't written anything here yet about the latest job news in our household, but there's a lot going on.
Mike, who has been very busy in the last few years juggling a bustling freelance career with full-time work and responsibilities around the house, gave notice today at work. Three weeks from now, he will be on his own, taking the time to expand his freelance business and preparing for his new role of stay-at-home dad.
He was understandably nervous about quitting. Right now, we're making a ton of money between my income, his income, his freelance income, and our rental income. We have mostly banked his income (though not exclusively), so we have a decent size nest egg. But still, with a baby on the way on expenses going up because of that, it's a scary time to turn down $65k/year. Our original plan was that he would quit his job in January, when the baby is born, but I convinced him that it made sense to quit now so he can focus on building the business up to a point that he can be in full swing once January rolls around. He won't officially stop working until Oct. 22, and he just started another gig (teaching two classes at a local college), and then there's also the job of finishing up the renovation on our house. That's obviously very important and has to be done by the time the baby comes. So I expect he'll still be really darn busy!
In terms of my job news, I don't have anything definitive yet, but I have an interesting situation. Someone I used to work for got a new job a couple of months ago. When she'd accepted the position but hadn't told anyone yet where it was, she started talking to me about the chance to work together again. Never one to limit my options, I told her I'd be interested (and I am. She's a great lady and I learned a lot working from her before). When she finally told me where she was working, we revisited the conversation. A few weeks ago, she emailed me a job description for discussion purposes to see if I'd be interested. It would pay what I was making before I took my current job (which came with a $20k/yr pay cut) and WOULD BE BASED AT HOME. I'd still be a director-level, but my 3 hour (or more, depending on traffic) daily commute would be gone. My $400-$500 monthly gas bill would be gone AND my income would go up by more than $1200/month before taxes. How can I say no to that?
I have the feeling that I'm a sure thing. I'm her preferred (and only, at this point) candidate and I've worked with the other people in this company before. We have good relationships. I sent in a cover letter and resume and heard back today asking what my time line looks like. I said I want to give 2 weeks notice-- that's only fair-- but that's my only issue. I do feel badly, because I love my current job. I really do love it. But this other opportunity would be better for my family, and now that I'm a mom, that has to come first. It's a weird thing to wrap my mind around in a lot of ways. Assuming the new job comes through, I'm going to see if my current company wants to keep me on as a consultant to finish a couple of big projects that need to be done by the end of the calendar year.
Mike, who has been very busy in the last few years juggling a bustling freelance career with full-time work and responsibilities around the house, gave notice today at work. Three weeks from now, he will be on his own, taking the time to expand his freelance business and preparing for his new role of stay-at-home dad.
He was understandably nervous about quitting. Right now, we're making a ton of money between my income, his income, his freelance income, and our rental income. We have mostly banked his income (though not exclusively), so we have a decent size nest egg. But still, with a baby on the way on expenses going up because of that, it's a scary time to turn down $65k/year. Our original plan was that he would quit his job in January, when the baby is born, but I convinced him that it made sense to quit now so he can focus on building the business up to a point that he can be in full swing once January rolls around. He won't officially stop working until Oct. 22, and he just started another gig (teaching two classes at a local college), and then there's also the job of finishing up the renovation on our house. That's obviously very important and has to be done by the time the baby comes. So I expect he'll still be really darn busy!
In terms of my job news, I don't have anything definitive yet, but I have an interesting situation. Someone I used to work for got a new job a couple of months ago. When she'd accepted the position but hadn't told anyone yet where it was, she started talking to me about the chance to work together again. Never one to limit my options, I told her I'd be interested (and I am. She's a great lady and I learned a lot working from her before). When she finally told me where she was working, we revisited the conversation. A few weeks ago, she emailed me a job description for discussion purposes to see if I'd be interested. It would pay what I was making before I took my current job (which came with a $20k/yr pay cut) and WOULD BE BASED AT HOME. I'd still be a director-level, but my 3 hour (or more, depending on traffic) daily commute would be gone. My $400-$500 monthly gas bill would be gone AND my income would go up by more than $1200/month before taxes. How can I say no to that?
I have the feeling that I'm a sure thing. I'm her preferred (and only, at this point) candidate and I've worked with the other people in this company before. We have good relationships. I sent in a cover letter and resume and heard back today asking what my time line looks like. I said I want to give 2 weeks notice-- that's only fair-- but that's my only issue. I do feel badly, because I love my current job. I really do love it. But this other opportunity would be better for my family, and now that I'm a mom, that has to come first. It's a weird thing to wrap my mind around in a lot of ways. Assuming the new job comes through, I'm going to see if my current company wants to keep me on as a consultant to finish a couple of big projects that need to be done by the end of the calendar year.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
A funk
Every so often, I battle a bout of depression. It's almost always the same. I get sad, I don't want to do anything. I curse my friends, who all suck. Well, I'm going through that now.
In about 2 weeks, I'll celebrate my 30th birthday. Well, let me rephrase that to say that in 2 weeks, I'll turn 30. I won't celebrate my birthday. My plans had been to go on a big trip, but that's not going to happen now that I'm pregnant with Poppy (and not now that we went on our babymoon and I don't have any vacation time left). Obviously, a big raging night of drinking is out, too. Getting dressed up and going somewhere fancy is out of the question-- what on earth would I wear? I'd be really happy, actually, with a night in with my friends, but my friends are all flakes. They're dispersed all over the country, and none of them are inclined to come to San Diego for a weekend. Even the one who lives in LA, only 2 short hours away.
These are the same friends who won't be throwing me a baby shower. I talked to my best friend (I feel silly calling her that right now as I'm put out with her) and was asking her opinion of where we should register-- Babies R Us or Amazon.com-- because Mike and I haven't been able to decide. I was NOT hinting about a shower, but I did mention that I didn't think I'd have one since everyone is far away and busy, and that my mom isn't the type to throw me one. She didn't say anything indicating an interest or desire to throw me one, which is fine, except it still hurts my feelings.
I also have been very frustrated with Mike lately for a number of reasons. He's driving me crazy. I don't feel like he wants me input on baby product purchasing, he is always pestering me for sex (which I have no interest in, though that's not the fault of the pregnancy, it was pretty much that was before, too). He is always going on and on about how much he does around the house, implying that I don't do anything. And the other day, when I talk the dog to the vet, he said, "how much did that cost me?" Excuse me, but I work and contribute to our household, too, and I don't appreciate that type of statement.
Mike asked me yesterday what I want to do to celebrate our one-year wedding anniversary, which is about a week after my birthday. Again, see the paragraphs above for reasons I don't want to do anything. All I've been thinking lately is, "why don't we get divorced?"
Oh, and I suggested to him the other day that he should think about getting a fuck buddy. Fort he last week or so, I've been thinking up rules that would make me more comfortable with it. Must be STD-free. Mike must not spend any money on him/her. There will be others, I'm sure. It just seems like if we do it this way, at least I'll have some control. Without it, or without my suddenly regaining an interest in sex, it's just a matter of time until he cheats on me. So here I am-- 29 years old, less than a year into my marriage, and pregnant to boot. No wonder I'm depressed.
In about 2 weeks, I'll celebrate my 30th birthday. Well, let me rephrase that to say that in 2 weeks, I'll turn 30. I won't celebrate my birthday. My plans had been to go on a big trip, but that's not going to happen now that I'm pregnant with Poppy (and not now that we went on our babymoon and I don't have any vacation time left). Obviously, a big raging night of drinking is out, too. Getting dressed up and going somewhere fancy is out of the question-- what on earth would I wear? I'd be really happy, actually, with a night in with my friends, but my friends are all flakes. They're dispersed all over the country, and none of them are inclined to come to San Diego for a weekend. Even the one who lives in LA, only 2 short hours away.
These are the same friends who won't be throwing me a baby shower. I talked to my best friend (I feel silly calling her that right now as I'm put out with her) and was asking her opinion of where we should register-- Babies R Us or Amazon.com-- because Mike and I haven't been able to decide. I was NOT hinting about a shower, but I did mention that I didn't think I'd have one since everyone is far away and busy, and that my mom isn't the type to throw me one. She didn't say anything indicating an interest or desire to throw me one, which is fine, except it still hurts my feelings.
I also have been very frustrated with Mike lately for a number of reasons. He's driving me crazy. I don't feel like he wants me input on baby product purchasing, he is always pestering me for sex (which I have no interest in, though that's not the fault of the pregnancy, it was pretty much that was before, too). He is always going on and on about how much he does around the house, implying that I don't do anything. And the other day, when I talk the dog to the vet, he said, "how much did that cost me?" Excuse me, but I work and contribute to our household, too, and I don't appreciate that type of statement.
Mike asked me yesterday what I want to do to celebrate our one-year wedding anniversary, which is about a week after my birthday. Again, see the paragraphs above for reasons I don't want to do anything. All I've been thinking lately is, "why don't we get divorced?"
Oh, and I suggested to him the other day that he should think about getting a fuck buddy. Fort he last week or so, I've been thinking up rules that would make me more comfortable with it. Must be STD-free. Mike must not spend any money on him/her. There will be others, I'm sure. It just seems like if we do it this way, at least I'll have some control. Without it, or without my suddenly regaining an interest in sex, it's just a matter of time until he cheats on me. So here I am-- 29 years old, less than a year into my marriage, and pregnant to boot. No wonder I'm depressed.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Today's the day
Alright... today, at 4:45, is our appointment for the sonogram to find out the sex of the baby. I'm really nervous. I'm still not feeling what I can identify as movement. I hope everything is okay and the baby is still alive and is doing well. Never mind the sex! At this point, I want to see live, healthy baby.
More later.
More later.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Resentment
The other night, Mike went over to a friend's house to work on a home improvement project. I knew he and the friend would end up drinking beer while working and that the chances Mike would come home tipsy were pretty good. I did not, however, expect that he was going to leave the friend's house (at 12:30 a.m., come to find out) and go to a local bar and hang out there until I called him at 2 a.m., and then somehow not get home until 2:45.
I last talked to him at a little before 10 p.m., so by the time it got to be 2 a.m., I was worried. Looking at the clock, I figured he'd gone to the bar, but I was still pissed off that he couldn't be bothered to text me or email me or call me to let me know. I also was pissed off that he was probably out there driving heavily impaired-- a stupid thing to do considering our child is on the way and it really would be best for all involved to have a two-parent family unit.
When I talked to him at 2, I was NOT a happy camper. I verified he was alive, could tell he was at a bar based on the noise, and then hung up. He called me back, I ignored the call. He called again, I ignored it again. And so on for about five minutes. When I finally picked up the phone, HE got mad at ME and yelled at me! "Why are you being like this?" "I'm mad that it's 2 and I haven't heard anything from you!" "What's the big deal?" Eventually, I hung up on him. When he came home, I pretended to be asleep and didn't talk to him.
I feel like his actions were really selfish. Selfish to go out and not think I might be worried. Selfish to be out drinking and driving. Selfish to not even consider that I can't just go out anymore and do whatever I want, and that I can't go have even one drink. I'm not sure if this is some sort of "last hurrah" before Settling Down into Family Life, but I'm resentful as hell.
I last talked to him at a little before 10 p.m., so by the time it got to be 2 a.m., I was worried. Looking at the clock, I figured he'd gone to the bar, but I was still pissed off that he couldn't be bothered to text me or email me or call me to let me know. I also was pissed off that he was probably out there driving heavily impaired-- a stupid thing to do considering our child is on the way and it really would be best for all involved to have a two-parent family unit.
When I talked to him at 2, I was NOT a happy camper. I verified he was alive, could tell he was at a bar based on the noise, and then hung up. He called me back, I ignored the call. He called again, I ignored it again. And so on for about five minutes. When I finally picked up the phone, HE got mad at ME and yelled at me! "Why are you being like this?" "I'm mad that it's 2 and I haven't heard anything from you!" "What's the big deal?" Eventually, I hung up on him. When he came home, I pretended to be asleep and didn't talk to him.
I feel like his actions were really selfish. Selfish to go out and not think I might be worried. Selfish to be out drinking and driving. Selfish to not even consider that I can't just go out anymore and do whatever I want, and that I can't go have even one drink. I'm not sure if this is some sort of "last hurrah" before Settling Down into Family Life, but I'm resentful as hell.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Cramping?
I was scared when Rey humped on my belly, but that was nothing compared to this morning. I was driving to work and I started feeling a lot of discomfort in my abdomen an pain in my lower back.
I've never really had my period on a regular basis, so I'm never really sure what menstrual cramps feel like, but when I have had discomfort during my period, it's usually pain in my back. Now, given that all of the books I've read talk about menstrual cramp-like cramps being one of the signs of miscarriage, I got really freaked out. REALLY FREAKED OUT. Crying, pull off the freeway freaked out.
Mike and I talked and he gave me the old, "don't worry yourself sick" line, which didn't help at all. I realize that worrying doesn't help, but I can't just shut off my worry button. He suggested I call the nurse advice line, but I wasn't able to pinpoint or really describe the pains to Mike, so I knew I wouldn't do any better with the nurse and there wouldn't be anything he/she could do. Also, I know that before 20 weeks, the fetus isn't really viable, so it's not like they can deliver the baby and try to kep it alive in the NICU; they just have to let it go.
Instead of calling the nurse, I called Dr. Mom, a friend (who is not a doctor) who has been my guiding light and a huge source of information to me throughout this pregnancy. She also told me to calm down and suggested a whole list of other things it could be besides miscarriage. She suggested I go home, lay down, and put a warm cloth or heating pad (on low) on my back. I'd already decided to go home and so that's what I did.
As I type this, I'm propped up in bed. I have a pillow under my knees and am contemplating trying to find my heating pad. I put in a call to my boss to explain to him that I'm not coming in today so I can be close to the hospital, just in case, and I think he'll be understanding. My stomach isn't having discomfort anymore, and the pain is my back has dulled. I'm sure things will be fine, but it was very scary.
I am excited about this pregnancy and happy to be having a baby, but I didn't realize exactly how excited and how happy until I had this scare. I put my hand on my belly and said, "Poppy, you have to stay in there!" Hopefully Poppy will oblige.
I've never really had my period on a regular basis, so I'm never really sure what menstrual cramps feel like, but when I have had discomfort during my period, it's usually pain in my back. Now, given that all of the books I've read talk about menstrual cramp-like cramps being one of the signs of miscarriage, I got really freaked out. REALLY FREAKED OUT. Crying, pull off the freeway freaked out.
Mike and I talked and he gave me the old, "don't worry yourself sick" line, which didn't help at all. I realize that worrying doesn't help, but I can't just shut off my worry button. He suggested I call the nurse advice line, but I wasn't able to pinpoint or really describe the pains to Mike, so I knew I wouldn't do any better with the nurse and there wouldn't be anything he/she could do. Also, I know that before 20 weeks, the fetus isn't really viable, so it's not like they can deliver the baby and try to kep it alive in the NICU; they just have to let it go.
Instead of calling the nurse, I called Dr. Mom, a friend (who is not a doctor) who has been my guiding light and a huge source of information to me throughout this pregnancy. She also told me to calm down and suggested a whole list of other things it could be besides miscarriage. She suggested I go home, lay down, and put a warm cloth or heating pad (on low) on my back. I'd already decided to go home and so that's what I did.
As I type this, I'm propped up in bed. I have a pillow under my knees and am contemplating trying to find my heating pad. I put in a call to my boss to explain to him that I'm not coming in today so I can be close to the hospital, just in case, and I think he'll be understanding. My stomach isn't having discomfort anymore, and the pain is my back has dulled. I'm sure things will be fine, but it was very scary.
I am excited about this pregnancy and happy to be having a baby, but I didn't realize exactly how excited and how happy until I had this scare. I put my hand on my belly and said, "Poppy, you have to stay in there!" Hopefully Poppy will oblige.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Near faint
It's summer. It's hot. Mike and I went to breakfast this morning, then stopped at some friends' house to see their new car. That entailed standing outside for a few minutes, but I tried to stay in the shade under a tree. We were heading to our next stop when we saw an old friend and pulled over to say hi. After talking for a few minutes, I started getting the strangest sensation.
I started seeing stars. My ears clogged up-- it was like trying to listen underwater. I felt really warm and weak and woozy. It was like I was on the verge of fainting. I told Mike and he hustled me to the car, put the A/C on full blast and ran to the store across the street to get me a big bottle of cold water. Once I sat down and caught my breath (I didn't feel it at the time, but I was having a sort of hard time breathing), I started feeling better, and once the air was one me, it was even better. The water also helped. My only thought was that I started to get a little heat exhaustion and/or dehydration and that my body was letting me know I needed to take it a little easier and drink some more fluids.
It was weird and it was scary. I'm so thankful we were close to the car (as opposed to across a big parking lot) and that there was a place with cold water nearby. It definitely was a reminder to take better care of myself-- and of Poppy-- in this hot summer weather.
I started seeing stars. My ears clogged up-- it was like trying to listen underwater. I felt really warm and weak and woozy. It was like I was on the verge of fainting. I told Mike and he hustled me to the car, put the A/C on full blast and ran to the store across the street to get me a big bottle of cold water. Once I sat down and caught my breath (I didn't feel it at the time, but I was having a sort of hard time breathing), I started feeling better, and once the air was one me, it was even better. The water also helped. My only thought was that I started to get a little heat exhaustion and/or dehydration and that my body was letting me know I needed to take it a little easier and drink some more fluids.
It was weird and it was scary. I'm so thankful we were close to the car (as opposed to across a big parking lot) and that there was a place with cold water nearby. It definitely was a reminder to take better care of myself-- and of Poppy-- in this hot summer weather.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Pain update
I didn't go tot he doctor on Tuesday. I also didn't go on Wednesday, though it started to hurt when I walked, too. I noticed that the pain definitely gets worse in the evenings, maybe because I've been moving around all day?
I was working from home today, so I decided I'd call the doctor and see if they thought I should go in. The bad thing about working 90 miles from home is that you're also 90 miles from your doctor, so spur of the moment appointments aren't that convenient.
Talked to the nurse, who asked me to describe the location pain. She asked me various questions (are you having spotting? how much water are you drinking? how would you rate the pain on a scale of 1-10?), relayed my answers to the doctor, and then relayed the doctor's wisdom to me. The result? Just as I suspected, it sounds like round ligament pain. I can take Tylenol for the pain if I want/need. I should drink more water. I should wear flat shoes. I should roll onto my side before getting up from laying down. I should cradle my belly when standing up from sitting. The last three of these things I've already been doing.
I was sure it was probably nothing but wanted to make sure they thought so, too, and I'm glad that was confirmed for me. The scary thing is that Poppy is going to keep getting bigger, which will make my uterus bigger and heavier, which will stretch the ligaments even more... .so this is probably something I should just get used to! ouch!
I was working from home today, so I decided I'd call the doctor and see if they thought I should go in. The bad thing about working 90 miles from home is that you're also 90 miles from your doctor, so spur of the moment appointments aren't that convenient.
Talked to the nurse, who asked me to describe the location pain. She asked me various questions (are you having spotting? how much water are you drinking? how would you rate the pain on a scale of 1-10?), relayed my answers to the doctor, and then relayed the doctor's wisdom to me. The result? Just as I suspected, it sounds like round ligament pain. I can take Tylenol for the pain if I want/need. I should drink more water. I should wear flat shoes. I should roll onto my side before getting up from laying down. I should cradle my belly when standing up from sitting. The last three of these things I've already been doing.
I was sure it was probably nothing but wanted to make sure they thought so, too, and I'm glad that was confirmed for me. The scary thing is that Poppy is going to keep getting bigger, which will make my uterus bigger and heavier, which will stretch the ligaments even more... .so this is probably something I should just get used to! ouch!
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