Even before I embarked on this sorta-surprise pregnancy, I had no delusions of things going perfectly. I knew I could lose another child. Perhaps this sounds terrible, but I was hoping it would happen early on. I figured I would be less attached, that I could "hold off" on becoming attached for awhile. I don't think all women are this way; I think many are attached from the second they know of the baby's existence. I already have a history of loss so I do my best not to get overly excited about an embryo or a baby who isn't here safely yet. But I had no delusions. There is no protection from that swell of hope and the terrorizing fear that comes along with it. There is no way I can keep from loving the baby that kicks and flips constantly in my stomach and sucks his thumb during ultrasounds.
I can do everything possible to try to hang onto my "wait and see" approach. I can cut off every annoyingly well-intentioned person who starts to say, "When the baby gets here..." I can avoid telling my daughter detailed stories of what a great big sister she is going to be.
But I can't protect us. I can 't save this baby. I can't keep my daughter from remembering she was supposed to have a baby brother if one day there isn't one anymore. I can't keep Jerry from feeling the pain of holding another dead child. I can't save myself from any dangerous complications that might occur. I can't protect us.
I wouldn't say I underestimated the feelings of helplessness that would come. I know I'll start to feel a bit better after we get past 27 weeks, and even better when we are past 30. I know that squashing all hopeful thoughts into oblivion won't spare me any pain in the end.
It's just...damn I hope this all ends well.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Placentas and I Just Don'tGet Along
Okay. Another humdinger of a doctor's appointment to dissect here. Not the overly-hormonal pregnant mommy rage this time, I promise.
I am now 24 weeks and 5 days. I am so grateful. I had a celebratory post all planned out, but I got bogged down by schoolwork and had to focus for a few days to finish it up. So here we are.
I have some pretty serious anxiety about discussing my pregnancy with people. I hate going into maternity stores because the well-intentioned sales ladies are all "OMG, when are you due? What are you having? IS THIS YOUR FIRST?" I can't take it. What am I supposed to say? Same goes for family members that I'm not extremely close with.
That being said, I have tried in this pregnancy to be marginally closer to one of those "normal" pregnant women. You know, the ones who can have an actual optimistic conversation about the practically guaranteed infant they will soon be blessed with. It's just not working, though. I fricking give up.
It started when I had an ultrasound with the perinatologist at 16 weeks. Jerry was coming of course. Because my mama and I are not used to living apart, we were pretty excited to meet in the city that lies partway between us for a weekend of good old gender-revealing ultrasound fun. Then she broke her driving foot. So we figured she should stay home, but suggested I invite my Grandma and Grandpa to come along. I adore my grandparents, so I swallowed my anxiety and invited them. They were so excited. Then I wrecked my car and had to reschedule the appointment. At 18 weeks, I finally got to my appointment with Jerry, Kiddo, my mom, and my grandma in tow.
I hate that feeling in ultrasounds when you feel like the tech is spending too much time on a specific part of the baby. Like something might be horribly wrong but the tech won't tell you because of the audience you drug along.
Well, as you know that ultrasound went fine. We found out we were having a boy and my grandparents were such a lovely addition to the day. My Grandma has called at least three times since then just to jabber about how amazing she thought it was. It brings tears to my eyes every time. My grandparents rock.
Fast forward 6 weeks to yesterday. My dad has now heard about me bringing the grandparents along to the ultrasound and casually mentions that he has never seen one. In the spirit of sharing my pregnancy joy, I indulge him. Then he brings his new wife. It's not that I truly dislike her. It's just that my comfort level around her is about a 0. I've always had a bit of a difficult relationship with my father. He conveniently waits until he has driven the two hours to Small Town MD's office before texting me to ask if I mind if she comes along. Now, it seems to me if he truly wanted to be sensitive to my wishes, he would've asked yesterday before he left the house. Whatever. That's not what this post is about.
So....there we all are. The tech gets me all set up on the table. It is only a minute or two in before I feel the vibe coming off her, and I don't like it. She's spending too much time measuring things. She seems to be trying hard to keep the mood light. My ultrasounds-gone-wrong nightmare begins literally unfolding before my eyes. All the while everyone is next to me jabbering and generally just raising my anxiety levels by being oblivious to the icky vibes in the room. Worse, I can hear my dad and his wife talking to the Kiddo about "when Baby Brother gets here." As though I'll actually get to keep him. As though my amazing daughter will actually get to be a big sister. Just taking it all for granted like those people who've never had anything bad happen to them do. I stare hard at the screen. His brain looks good. Spine has no huge chunks missing. Two kidneys. Four-chambered heart with no white spots. Since this is about the limit of my ultrasound interpretation expertise, I couldn't figure out what she was looking for. The tech starts asking all sorts of questions about his growth. If this is my first. I mention my placental abruption history, but consciously withhold Matthew's name from my lips. And when was my last ultrasound. When she finds out I had one at the other office 6 weeks ago, she can't get out of the room fast enough. She says something vague about pulling up the images on her other computer to compare and bolts.
There I am covered with ultrasound gel. Stuck on that table knowing she has just bolted straight for the doctor. With several obliviously excited family members in the room. Jerry is also oblivious, simply beaming at the images on the monitor in a proud daddy sort of way that makes my heart feel like it's breaking. Kiddo is happily chanting, "Baby brother, baby brother, baby brother" over and over again. I don't say a word.
The tech comes back and says something stupid about technology being slow. She spends a lot of time making sure I get good pictures. She measures some more. At this point I am fairly certain it must be his growth she is concerned about so I am relieved when she estimates his weight at 1 lb 12 oz. She measures him right at 25 weeks. Perfect.
When the ultrasound wraps up, I dismiss my audience and head into the doctor's office. My blood pressure is elevated. Shocker. Small Town MD enters. I'll just paraphrase his little schpiel for the sake of brevity here: "So....everything looks great with the baby. His weight is great. Your amniotic fluid level is great. I almost wish I didn't have to mention this at all. The umbilical cord insertion site on the placenta is a bit off-center. I'm not concerned about it AT ALL. The cord is actually situated about 2 centimeters in from the edge, and that's GOOD."
Um...he had me at placenta. 2 centimeters from the edge? Me and my fricking placentas. I ask if it is a velamentous cord insertion (I don't even really know what that means at the moment, but I've heard the term once or twice in relation to umbilical cord issues). He says no. I ask if it correlates to placental abruption. Nope.
All I could think about was the way the baby was torquing on his umbilical cord for a large portion of the ultrasound. I mean, he doesn't exactly have any toys in there, but still.
Considering my general distrust of Small Town MD's abilities, he held up pretty well during the appointment. He recommended that we do the evidence-based thing and simply continue to monitor. He feels the biggest indications of a well-functioning placenta are adequate growth and adequate amniotic fluid. My cervix is closed up tight--a positive sign that I might not go into premature labor. For now.
I think to say that all this scares the shit out of me would be a huge understatement. I mean, am I incapable of growing a decent placenta? I certainly hope not, but with my body you never know. I agree with Small Town MD's suggestion that we simply monitor his growth and hope for the best. But one bad measurement and I want this baby out. The last thing I would ever want is another NICU experience. But even more than that? I do not want my baby to be stillborn. I am so afraid that we will lose another baby. This baby.
When we got home, I sorted the baby clothes and tucked them into a plastic tote, out of site and with their corresponding receipts. You know, in case it all goes to hell.
Having no other option besides continuing to take things one day at a time, I am trying hard to stay positive and just keep putting one foot in front of the other. But the ultrasound-sharing portion of this pregnancy? Is absolutely over.
I am beginning to do some researching and consulting on the matter and will discuss what I learn and the implications after I sort things out a bit. Until then, if you are the praying kind, please pray for us.
I am now 24 weeks and 5 days. I am so grateful. I had a celebratory post all planned out, but I got bogged down by schoolwork and had to focus for a few days to finish it up. So here we are.
I have some pretty serious anxiety about discussing my pregnancy with people. I hate going into maternity stores because the well-intentioned sales ladies are all "OMG, when are you due? What are you having? IS THIS YOUR FIRST?" I can't take it. What am I supposed to say? Same goes for family members that I'm not extremely close with.
That being said, I have tried in this pregnancy to be marginally closer to one of those "normal" pregnant women. You know, the ones who can have an actual optimistic conversation about the practically guaranteed infant they will soon be blessed with. It's just not working, though. I fricking give up.
It started when I had an ultrasound with the perinatologist at 16 weeks. Jerry was coming of course. Because my mama and I are not used to living apart, we were pretty excited to meet in the city that lies partway between us for a weekend of good old gender-revealing ultrasound fun. Then she broke her driving foot. So we figured she should stay home, but suggested I invite my Grandma and Grandpa to come along. I adore my grandparents, so I swallowed my anxiety and invited them. They were so excited. Then I wrecked my car and had to reschedule the appointment. At 18 weeks, I finally got to my appointment with Jerry, Kiddo, my mom, and my grandma in tow.
I hate that feeling in ultrasounds when you feel like the tech is spending too much time on a specific part of the baby. Like something might be horribly wrong but the tech won't tell you because of the audience you drug along.
Well, as you know that ultrasound went fine. We found out we were having a boy and my grandparents were such a lovely addition to the day. My Grandma has called at least three times since then just to jabber about how amazing she thought it was. It brings tears to my eyes every time. My grandparents rock.
Fast forward 6 weeks to yesterday. My dad has now heard about me bringing the grandparents along to the ultrasound and casually mentions that he has never seen one. In the spirit of sharing my pregnancy joy, I indulge him. Then he brings his new wife. It's not that I truly dislike her. It's just that my comfort level around her is about a 0. I've always had a bit of a difficult relationship with my father. He conveniently waits until he has driven the two hours to Small Town MD's office before texting me to ask if I mind if she comes along. Now, it seems to me if he truly wanted to be sensitive to my wishes, he would've asked yesterday before he left the house. Whatever. That's not what this post is about.
So....there we all are. The tech gets me all set up on the table. It is only a minute or two in before I feel the vibe coming off her, and I don't like it. She's spending too much time measuring things. She seems to be trying hard to keep the mood light. My ultrasounds-gone-wrong nightmare begins literally unfolding before my eyes. All the while everyone is next to me jabbering and generally just raising my anxiety levels by being oblivious to the icky vibes in the room. Worse, I can hear my dad and his wife talking to the Kiddo about "when Baby Brother gets here." As though I'll actually get to keep him. As though my amazing daughter will actually get to be a big sister. Just taking it all for granted like those people who've never had anything bad happen to them do. I stare hard at the screen. His brain looks good. Spine has no huge chunks missing. Two kidneys. Four-chambered heart with no white spots. Since this is about the limit of my ultrasound interpretation expertise, I couldn't figure out what she was looking for. The tech starts asking all sorts of questions about his growth. If this is my first. I mention my placental abruption history, but consciously withhold Matthew's name from my lips. And when was my last ultrasound. When she finds out I had one at the other office 6 weeks ago, she can't get out of the room fast enough. She says something vague about pulling up the images on her other computer to compare and bolts.
There I am covered with ultrasound gel. Stuck on that table knowing she has just bolted straight for the doctor. With several obliviously excited family members in the room. Jerry is also oblivious, simply beaming at the images on the monitor in a proud daddy sort of way that makes my heart feel like it's breaking. Kiddo is happily chanting, "Baby brother, baby brother, baby brother" over and over again. I don't say a word.
The tech comes back and says something stupid about technology being slow. She spends a lot of time making sure I get good pictures. She measures some more. At this point I am fairly certain it must be his growth she is concerned about so I am relieved when she estimates his weight at 1 lb 12 oz. She measures him right at 25 weeks. Perfect.
When the ultrasound wraps up, I dismiss my audience and head into the doctor's office. My blood pressure is elevated. Shocker. Small Town MD enters. I'll just paraphrase his little schpiel for the sake of brevity here: "So....everything looks great with the baby. His weight is great. Your amniotic fluid level is great. I almost wish I didn't have to mention this at all. The umbilical cord insertion site on the placenta is a bit off-center. I'm not concerned about it AT ALL. The cord is actually situated about 2 centimeters in from the edge, and that's GOOD."
Um...he had me at placenta. 2 centimeters from the edge? Me and my fricking placentas. I ask if it is a velamentous cord insertion (I don't even really know what that means at the moment, but I've heard the term once or twice in relation to umbilical cord issues). He says no. I ask if it correlates to placental abruption. Nope.
All I could think about was the way the baby was torquing on his umbilical cord for a large portion of the ultrasound. I mean, he doesn't exactly have any toys in there, but still.
Considering my general distrust of Small Town MD's abilities, he held up pretty well during the appointment. He recommended that we do the evidence-based thing and simply continue to monitor. He feels the biggest indications of a well-functioning placenta are adequate growth and adequate amniotic fluid. My cervix is closed up tight--a positive sign that I might not go into premature labor. For now.
I think to say that all this scares the shit out of me would be a huge understatement. I mean, am I incapable of growing a decent placenta? I certainly hope not, but with my body you never know. I agree with Small Town MD's suggestion that we simply monitor his growth and hope for the best. But one bad measurement and I want this baby out. The last thing I would ever want is another NICU experience. But even more than that? I do not want my baby to be stillborn. I am so afraid that we will lose another baby. This baby.
When we got home, I sorted the baby clothes and tucked them into a plastic tote, out of site and with their corresponding receipts. You know, in case it all goes to hell.
Having no other option besides continuing to take things one day at a time, I am trying hard to stay positive and just keep putting one foot in front of the other. But the ultrasound-sharing portion of this pregnancy? Is absolutely over.
I am beginning to do some researching and consulting on the matter and will discuss what I learn and the implications after I sort things out a bit. Until then, if you are the praying kind, please pray for us.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
23 Weeks 1 Day
Today? Was not my favorite day ever. I awoke to the unmistakeable aroma of dog shit wafting from the living room. Someone ate something he/she shouldn't have, but neither wanted to fess up. Several hours later I realize that the show is not yet over. That's right. Another mess, this one of the yarf variety and conveniently located under the bed. At least I don't have carpet in this bedroom. I blame this one on Scout because he was looking pretty guilty and is usually the one who eats garbage if given the chance. Just between you and I, dear Internet, he is the WORST dog ever. I told him he wasn't my favorite canine today and that he should make himself scarce. He wisely did.
I wouldn't normally stoop so low as to discuss my dogs' bowel movements, but it was pretty much representative of my emotional state today, so....I promise I'll only do it this one time.
I'm holding it together okay, really. I think it's just the potent combination of teetering here on the Edge of Viability with Baby Blue, the ongoing vehicle dilemma we've been having, learning to deal with life in FrontierLand, and the pressure I feel because I'm not using my nursing degree in any way that brings in money. I am staying busy these days increasing my student loan debt rather than paying on it with gainful employment. I don't think Dave Ramsey would approve.
Also. I am possibly the worst housewife ever. Seriously. I can't keep this house clean no matter what I do. I blame Jerry and the Kiddo, but it's not really them. It's me. When I was busy balancing nursing school and the Kiddo, I just wrote it off as being busy. Now? I am busy, but not busy enough for it to be a valid excuse. The house just always seems completely out of control. This is a big problem. Why do you ask? Oh yeah, because I am pregnant. And you never know when I might have to disappear from my house for a few months to hang out in the NICU. Jerry would have to come back at some point and work as would the Kiddo. It would really bother me if there was still a pile of moving boxes in the living room and that happened. I am not getting Baby Blue's room ready prior to hospital discharge so I think this may be my version of nesting. Hopefully, the issue won't even come up.
Baby Blue is still gestating away.
I wouldn't normally stoop so low as to discuss my dogs' bowel movements, but it was pretty much representative of my emotional state today, so....I promise I'll only do it this one time.
I'm holding it together okay, really. I think it's just the potent combination of teetering here on the Edge of Viability with Baby Blue, the ongoing vehicle dilemma we've been having, learning to deal with life in FrontierLand, and the pressure I feel because I'm not using my nursing degree in any way that brings in money. I am staying busy these days increasing my student loan debt rather than paying on it with gainful employment. I don't think Dave Ramsey would approve.
Also. I am possibly the worst housewife ever. Seriously. I can't keep this house clean no matter what I do. I blame Jerry and the Kiddo, but it's not really them. It's me. When I was busy balancing nursing school and the Kiddo, I just wrote it off as being busy. Now? I am busy, but not busy enough for it to be a valid excuse. The house just always seems completely out of control. This is a big problem. Why do you ask? Oh yeah, because I am pregnant. And you never know when I might have to disappear from my house for a few months to hang out in the NICU. Jerry would have to come back at some point and work as would the Kiddo. It would really bother me if there was still a pile of moving boxes in the living room and that happened. I am not getting Baby Blue's room ready prior to hospital discharge so I think this may be my version of nesting. Hopefully, the issue won't even come up.
Baby Blue is still gestating away.
Monday, November 26, 2012
Gender Announcement
As previously promised....
Hello Dear Internet, I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Want to guess what I'm thankful for this year? Well...I really love my dogs and cats, my Jerry, and my Kiddo so I am always thankful for them. But this Thanksgiving I'm grateful that I could just maybe get my baby BOY in 2013!
This little Fetus? I'm totally into him you guys. He's super kicky and punchy and just...active. He is also much more interested in voices then I remember babies being in utero. It is so delightful. Kiddo was a peaceful sort of fetus; she would roll gently and tap a bit. Matthew was pretty active as well, but since the pregnancy ended early and I had no other babies to compare him to I just assumed it was normal behavior when one is a fetus. This time I just find it so thrilling. I've never been someone who truly loves being pregnant but he is just awesome. And it's been so long since I was last pregnant that it all feels new again. When he's being active, I often stop absolutely everything to just love on him. I don't mean to get all squishy and mushy on everyone, but this post is a happy one so I'm gonna let all the squishy, mushy, gooey stuff out here.
As I type this he is kicking like crazy and I keep having to move the computer around on my lap.
It is also now past midnight and I am officially 23 weeks pregnant! Or as I happily informed Jerry this morning: "The Day I am Officially Allowed to be an Asshole if I go into Labor and That Irritating Doctor Doesn't Act Right and Give Me Tocolytics and Steroids." Because it is getting VERY close to the Edge of Viability you guys. And it's not common (not at all!) but it does occasionally work out that a 23-weeker is a real fighter and makes it through without adverse outcomes. From now on, I get to demand a chance for my SON. I desperately hope that the issue won't come up at all, but I'm glad it's there.
Dear Baby Boy, just stay in there awhile longer. At least 7 weeks please. In return, I will promise to attempt to figure out what cool toys for little boys actually are. I only understand little girl toys right now, but I will get there.
Hello Dear Internet, I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Want to guess what I'm thankful for this year? Well...I really love my dogs and cats, my Jerry, and my Kiddo so I am always thankful for them. But this Thanksgiving I'm grateful that I could just maybe get my baby BOY in 2013!
This little Fetus? I'm totally into him you guys. He's super kicky and punchy and just...active. He is also much more interested in voices then I remember babies being in utero. It is so delightful. Kiddo was a peaceful sort of fetus; she would roll gently and tap a bit. Matthew was pretty active as well, but since the pregnancy ended early and I had no other babies to compare him to I just assumed it was normal behavior when one is a fetus. This time I just find it so thrilling. I've never been someone who truly loves being pregnant but he is just awesome. And it's been so long since I was last pregnant that it all feels new again. When he's being active, I often stop absolutely everything to just love on him. I don't mean to get all squishy and mushy on everyone, but this post is a happy one so I'm gonna let all the squishy, mushy, gooey stuff out here.
As I type this he is kicking like crazy and I keep having to move the computer around on my lap.
It is also now past midnight and I am officially 23 weeks pregnant! Or as I happily informed Jerry this morning: "The Day I am Officially Allowed to be an Asshole if I go into Labor and That Irritating Doctor Doesn't Act Right and Give Me Tocolytics and Steroids." Because it is getting VERY close to the Edge of Viability you guys. And it's not common (not at all!) but it does occasionally work out that a 23-weeker is a real fighter and makes it through without adverse outcomes. From now on, I get to demand a chance for my SON. I desperately hope that the issue won't come up at all, but I'm glad it's there.
Dear Baby Boy, just stay in there awhile longer. At least 7 weeks please. In return, I will promise to attempt to figure out what cool toys for little boys actually are. I only understand little girl toys right now, but I will get there.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
The Long March to the Threshold of Viability
Today, I made the 1.5 hour commute to see Small Town MD. I really don't like him much. First of all, I'm 29 and I'm thinking he is younger than me. I don't like that at all. Obviously you haven't been a doctor for that many years if you are younger than 29. Please correct me if I'm wrong. It would actually be helpful. What's the youngest average first year resident in this country? 26?
Second of all....he felt the need to say something along the lines of "Well....we really wouldn't intervene at all before 24 weeks...sorry if that sounds harsh" Umm....no fricking kidding. Obviously I am aware of the dangers of preterm labor prior to and immediately following the golden 24 week mark. But thanks for reassuring me that nothing would/could be done for my baby if it all goes to shit tomorrow. I mean, the nurse part of me obviously appreciates his straight forward approach. But the hormonal mommy part? The part that's in control these days? She doesn't find him amusing. I had also just finished telling him that my anxiety feels extreme these days. I said that every time I experience a vague twinge, much less a contraction, I FREAK out (don't freak out too-- They haven't ever resembled anything regular). It's so sad that when you are pregnant all of the anti-anxiety meds that have a real kick to them are unavailable. Actually he didn't even offer me any meds at all. Jerk. The one time in my life when I wish I could actually consider taking something.
Lastly. He just seems more and more uncomfortable with handling my case. He suggested that I should maybe just see the City MFM Specialist from here on out. I told him that was a great idea, but I was employing his services because of his relatively close vicinity to me compared to that of City MFM Specialist. I told him I would love it if he didn't have to deliver, but since he didn't want to schedule a section prior to 39 weeks (he's not comfortable doing it earlier in the small hospital) and I have never made it to 39 weeks in my life I figured I should just brace for the worst and hope for the best. City MFM Specialist is the organized "Best" delivery. Small Town MD is the "Oh shit, brace for the worst" delivery. We agreed that he will continue to monitor until 36 weeks at which time I will be completely transferred over to City MFM Specialist and will pass the remainder of my pregnancy in the city.
I cried in the reception area on the phone to my friend following the appointment. I really don't like crying in front of other humans.
Adding to the charm of my day the tiny bank here in FrontierLand is giving me all kinds of issues with the things they aren't capable of. And when I stopped by my Internet provider's office to discuss my need for an increased download speed, I was told that I have the fastest internet available for my location. The internet is at less than half the download speeds I had when I lived on the other side of the state. You know, back when I lived in a respectable town. All in all, I do feel like I'm adjusting to frontier life better than I would have expected, but the lack of an adequate internet speed just about pushes me over the edge. I am going to try to research some other options but it appears thus far that I have employed the ONLY internet service provider in a 200 mile radius around me and I may not have other options. Ugh.
Then! Then we had our only fully functional vehicle looked over and got the news that it needs a very expensive repair soon. And it started just blizzarding right when we started heading home. The 1.5 hour drive took almost 4 hours and there were wrecks everywhere. There were actual snow drifts on the highway. Thank the Lord we made it home safely. I think we've had enough trouble today. There's four inches so far and due to dump a whole lot more before morning. Hello winter in FrontierLand.
In other news...Jerry felt the baby kick for the first time tonight. It was pretty awesome. I don't think he's ever felt a baby this early before. Usually it's a few weeks from now. Not all of the kicks are visible from the outside, but the really feisty kicks are. This little fetus is feisty. Still being very careful not to give away the gender until I get the post up.
I'll be back later with another fascinating complain-y post. Baby is incubating away. Mama is not so cozy, but plugging along. Here's to an uneventful 3 weeks and 2 days followed by several more uneventful weeks.
Second of all....he felt the need to say something along the lines of "Well....we really wouldn't intervene at all before 24 weeks...sorry if that sounds harsh" Umm....no fricking kidding. Obviously I am aware of the dangers of preterm labor prior to and immediately following the golden 24 week mark. But thanks for reassuring me that nothing would/could be done for my baby if it all goes to shit tomorrow. I mean, the nurse part of me obviously appreciates his straight forward approach. But the hormonal mommy part? The part that's in control these days? She doesn't find him amusing. I had also just finished telling him that my anxiety feels extreme these days. I said that every time I experience a vague twinge, much less a contraction, I FREAK out (don't freak out too-- They haven't ever resembled anything regular). It's so sad that when you are pregnant all of the anti-anxiety meds that have a real kick to them are unavailable. Actually he didn't even offer me any meds at all. Jerk. The one time in my life when I wish I could actually consider taking something.
Lastly. He just seems more and more uncomfortable with handling my case. He suggested that I should maybe just see the City MFM Specialist from here on out. I told him that was a great idea, but I was employing his services because of his relatively close vicinity to me compared to that of City MFM Specialist. I told him I would love it if he didn't have to deliver, but since he didn't want to schedule a section prior to 39 weeks (he's not comfortable doing it earlier in the small hospital) and I have never made it to 39 weeks in my life I figured I should just brace for the worst and hope for the best. City MFM Specialist is the organized "Best" delivery. Small Town MD is the "Oh shit, brace for the worst" delivery. We agreed that he will continue to monitor until 36 weeks at which time I will be completely transferred over to City MFM Specialist and will pass the remainder of my pregnancy in the city.
I cried in the reception area on the phone to my friend following the appointment. I really don't like crying in front of other humans.
Adding to the charm of my day the tiny bank here in FrontierLand is giving me all kinds of issues with the things they aren't capable of. And when I stopped by my Internet provider's office to discuss my need for an increased download speed, I was told that I have the fastest internet available for my location. The internet is at less than half the download speeds I had when I lived on the other side of the state. You know, back when I lived in a respectable town. All in all, I do feel like I'm adjusting to frontier life better than I would have expected, but the lack of an adequate internet speed just about pushes me over the edge. I am going to try to research some other options but it appears thus far that I have employed the ONLY internet service provider in a 200 mile radius around me and I may not have other options. Ugh.
Then! Then we had our only fully functional vehicle looked over and got the news that it needs a very expensive repair soon. And it started just blizzarding right when we started heading home. The 1.5 hour drive took almost 4 hours and there were wrecks everywhere. There were actual snow drifts on the highway. Thank the Lord we made it home safely. I think we've had enough trouble today. There's four inches so far and due to dump a whole lot more before morning. Hello winter in FrontierLand.
In other news...Jerry felt the baby kick for the first time tonight. It was pretty awesome. I don't think he's ever felt a baby this early before. Usually it's a few weeks from now. Not all of the kicks are visible from the outside, but the really feisty kicks are. This little fetus is feisty. Still being very careful not to give away the gender until I get the post up.
I'll be back later with another fascinating complain-y post. Baby is incubating away. Mama is not so cozy, but plugging along. Here's to an uneventful 3 weeks and 2 days followed by several more uneventful weeks.
Friday, November 9, 2012
Testing...
Umm....hi Internet. I never intended for it to be so long between posts, but here we are. I need a really long catch up post. When you are busy it can be difficult to update the blog on both past and present events. I think I'm going to do it in bullets this time:
- Everything is fine, pregnancy wise. So far. I'm 20 weeks and 4 days today. Need to get a ticker up on the blog but I am a bit paranoid.
- I did find out what I'm having during my last ultrasound but I feel that deserves it's own blog post at the very least so I will reveal soon.
- The gender reveal is awesome, but I have seen a huge spike in my anxiety levels in the two weeks since then. I didn't really know if I wanted to find out but Jerry really did so....we did. It literally turns the baby into a person when you hear. I've spent the first part of my pregnancy (okay, the first 16 weeks or so really) just taking a "wait and see" approach. I didn't say shit like, "Oh, when the baby comes..." But now I'm in deep, my friends. I WANT my baby and the "wait and see" approach is flying out the window. With it is going any serenity I felt about this pregnancy. I'm still trying to take it day by day. I'm just not that good at it. Do I sound like I'm panicking? I'm definitely panicking.
- I moved a little over a month ago. Four days after the move, I hit a deer on the way to my doctor's appointment. Totaled my car. The one I just made a very expensive engine repair on. I had Kiddo with me and I am so grateful we were both (all 3 of us, I suppose) ok. We stayed in our lane on the interstate the entire time and I never lost control of the car. I was going the speed limit but it was still pretty fast. The deer was dead before it hit the ground. I can't even kill a bug that makes eye contact with me so I felt badly. And I really liked my car. It could've been so much worse, but it has still been a huge problem to lose a car.
- Adding to the fun, less than 2 weeks later the engine on Jerry's old truck finally gave out. I seriously used the AAA membership twice in 2 weeks. It was the first time we ever even had to use our AAA membership. I almost didn't renew it this year. Thank goodness for small miracles.
- So I've spent a lot of time talking to my insurance company lately. I really dislike insurance companies.
- I am very glad to finally be living with Jerry again. We ended up living separately for 15 months, and it wasn't fun. It's so nice to be living under the same roof again. We are tough, but our relationship took some serious hits and I am happy to say that we have started to rebuild. It's not anything specific that went wrong. It's just really easy to grow apart when you both lead your own busy lives, and you are never seeing each other. It's hard to feel like the other person understands what you are going through. It's hard not to feel alone.
- I read my last post. It's always a bit ironic to look back on past posts where I thought I had big problems. What I really needed was a bit of perspective and I guess I got it. Between the pregnancy, the relationship "struggles," the vehicle issues, and the move it's been a rough time. I've been having a rough time. Not the melodramatic kind. The real kind. I'm going to just leave it at that instead of trying to write some whiny nonsensical post about my woes. Bullet points.
- Jerry's family? They are excruciatingly difficult for me to deal with sometimes. I think they really felt like I abandoned Jerry over here when I didn't quit nursing school and follow him when he changed jobs last year. The truth is I felt terrible for not being here with him. I wondered a million times if it would cost me my relationship, staying and finishing school over moving to be with him. Between us we knew that I HAD to stay and finish and we wholeheartedly agreed on the reasons. If you've been reading since last year you may remember this post. Number 2? That was Jerry's family, my friends. I was too tactful (classy? discreet?) to say it out loud back then. I guess we are past that now. They have certainly been less than tactful about the matter, to say the least.
- Apparently there are certain family members who did not feel I hustled over here quick enough after graduation in June. I haven't actually taken the opportunity to defend myself to them (and I'm not sure I should even dignify their opinions with a response at all. It's none of their business in the first place) so I will defend myself here. Because I'm sure the whole world is interested. I graduated June 9th. We went on vacation. Then I followed him over here and we stayed several weeks into July. I went home to study for my NCLEX. I got a positive pregnancy test July 20th (?) I took my NCLEX July 26th. I put my little house up for sale the DAY after NCLEX. I sold my house by September 8th and we moved October 4th. I'm sorry, did I dally too much?
- In their defense I must say, they did not know I was pregnant until last week. Because I don't really enjoy their opinions so when I was being criticized I didn't want to explain that I was pregnant and not feeling all that perky on top of everything else I was handling this summer. Because it wasn't their business and I'll be damned if I was going to let them have an opinion on my pregnancy too.
- Also I temporarily blocked my mother-in-law's phone number from my phone. For a few days. Because I'd had all I could handle over the last 7 years and I just. needed. a. freaking. minute. I did feel a little bad about it after a few days and I unblocked it.
- As you've likely deduced, these are females I am speaking about. And part of the problem stems from them not understanding why I fought and kicked so hard to get through college. Neither of them have college level educations and they simply do not understand my kind of female. To my knowledge they have no desires outside the home and never have. I'm not trying to bash SAHM's ya'll. I just don't want someone to turn around and judge me for wanting to become a nurse. Something I wanted long before Jerry came into my life. There, I'm done.
- What do you think? Do I leave it alone? Or do I say my piece? I've spoken up before about another matter and REALLY went off to both females. They seemed to respond well at the time and truly made an effort to act differently towards me. But here we are again. Over a month has passed already, so I've given it time to cool, but I am still so angry and hurt about it.
- What else? In the interest of not throwing my career to the wolves while gestating, I am now officially enrolled in an ASN to BSN program. I recently started my first classes and they are a pain, but I'm really glad to have something to focus on besides the above hot-button issues.
- I should really be studying right now. That's probably why I was inspired to finally put up a post. Because I should be doing something else.
- Kiddo is amazing and beautiful and healthy. She has several loose teeth on the bottom that really need to come out. She won't pull them. She is willing to let me wiggle them and pull on them, but even wiggling them causes me to feel dizzy and nauseous so I'm pretty sure I don't have the gumption to pull it. To be continued...
- Now I'm really glad that I didn't just throw my gender reveal in this messy, nonsensical post. But look look! I've pushed my suspicious and anxious nature to the side and added a pregnancy ticker to the top right of the blog. Behold!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)