Fresh Start!

I’ve moved my blog over to another wordpress locale.  Anyone interested is welcome to visit me at:

http://sortalikespinningplates.wordpress.com/

Not much up yet, but there will be soon!

Happy Birthday!

It’s a late announcement, but I’d like to formally present Joseph Dashiell to all of you. 

I’ve finally crawled out from under my haze of pain meds and exhaustion to get around to writing something coherent.  I’ve got stories I’ll shower you with in coming days, but for now, some pictures will do.

He was born last Wednesday, October 22 at 12:53pm.  He came via c-section, which was an adventure.  He was a big one, weighing in at 9lbs, 12 oz and was 20.5 inches long.  Most impressive?  His fair size noggin, which sported a circumference of 14.5 inches.  Healthy, happy and sweet.  We were in the hospital until Saturday and had a cadre of wonderful friends and family visit us there and once we got home.  All has been going well with the very minor exception of some slight jaundice which is disappering quickly.  I’m tired.  More tired than I’ve ever been in my life.  But that’s to be expected…

Now: PICTURES!!

Ray, ready for the big event

Our first family photo

Hanging out with Mommy

D-Day

Delivery, that is.

My c-section is scheduled for tomorrow, Wednesday, around noon.

Ray, Pinchy and I already appreciate the love, prayers and well wishes. I’ll write about the big ball of crazy emotions tonight. Right now, I’ve got a few last things to tie up before heading out.

It’s not the chase that I love, it’s me following you…

38 weeks, 4 days

Pinchy will arrive next week. 

We had an ultrasound yesterday.  All parts still intact, baby very squished in there….and weighing in at around 10 lbs, 2oz.  as of today.  There is an error rate of about 1 lb either way, so it could just be a 9lb baby.  OR an 11 lb baby.

Sigh.

We then met with the doctor.  She came in with this grin on her face.  “So…the baby’s big. Like crazy big.  Like 99th percentile big.  At least the abdomen is…and that’s what we go by when deciding if we could do a c-section or not.”  While his other markers were measuring slightly big or right on target, his abdomen measured at 44 weeks.  My blood sugar (which hasn’t been so bad–I’ve taken my insulin and watched my diet and kept my weight gain under control, so I’m not sure what’s going on) has gotten him plumped up to the point where he may not fit through. 

So they are in the process of scheduling my c-section.  Early next week (Tuesday? Wednesday?), I will be scheduled to have my baby in the span of an hour or so. 

I’m a little overwhelmed at the moment.  I’m adjusting to the idea OK.  It’s funny, my earliest dreams of pregnancy were of a c-section.  But I wonder if I’m making the right decision.  My doctor said she would have fought me on it if I had resisted, but we could have discussed options.  That was probably one of the biggest factors–if it matters enough to her to fight me on it, it’s worth listening to her.  I trust her completely and know she would work toward whatever birth goals I have IF they wouldn’t put me of Little One in danger.  She said she was prepared for some pushback from us, talked to us about the options anyway and we made the best decision we could.  Ultimately, the ultrasound could be wrong, the baby could be smaller than predicted, I might have been able to deliver just fine, but based on the data we have right now, this is our best choice.  I can’t regret.  I can’t look back and wonder.  I just have to move forward with the best choice I can.

My other option is to try labor and see what happens.  But I don’t know that a vaginal birth that ends in an emergency c-section is any better–surgery on a fatigued body with fatigued muscles and a whole lotta hormones just sounds worse from a pain perspective, a delivery perspective and a recovery perspective.  And I worry about my reaction if I can’t do it.  Will I feel like a failure?  Will I beat myself up for giving up?  Knowing myself, both are likely.  This choice to go with a scheduled c-section, while rife with possible problems and complications, allows me to have a massage the day before, to mentally get ready, to not set myself up for disappointment.  I’m adjusting.  Shifting my paradigm.   

Worst part?  She went ahead and did an internal exam.  She got this odd look of “Oh, MAN!” on her face as she did it.  I’m apparently dialated to a 3 and I’m 70% effaced and the cervix is soft.   My body is gearing up for labor really smoothly and greatly…and it’s not going to matter one bit.  Oh well.

The other feature of the doctor visit yesterday was my Non Stress Test.  PInchy was apparently sleepy when they first hooked me up.  For 20 or 30 minutes, I felt a twitch here or there, but not much else.  The nurse came in, looked at the paper and frowned.  Then the doctor came in, looked at the paper and frowned.  Asked me when I had eaten last, said we may need to give me a snack to get baby moving. If baby didn’t move, then we’d be back for another ultrasound in the afternoon and baby would be coming out shortly. 

She left again and I summoned Ray to grab some peanut butter crackers from my purse.  I popped a couple of those and within moments I got a kick or two.  I laughed outloud and baby’s heartbeat went right up and he squirmed.  I know he does this all the time, but to see the machine that goes “PING!” print it out was pretty cool.  So I laughed again.  Again a spike in movement and in heartrate.  Nice. 

Ray suggested singing to him…so I picked “Kick-Drum Heart” by the Avett Brothers.  It’s a song I’ve always believed was his favorite.  Well, I started singing and he went CRAZY in there.  Kicking and moving and dancing…and stopping as soon as I did.  I tried other songs.  He reacted, but not with the same jump in activity and heartrate as that one. 

I’ll just say the doctor was pleased when she came in and saw the readouts at this point.

Bigger than a Bread Box??

So, my favorite quote from the doctor’s appointment yesterday:

“So….You’re not having a **small**  baby.”

Ray and I laughed.  Out loud.  A lot.

Yesterday was a meeting with the back up doc, Dr. O.  He was lovely.  Very relaxed demeanor, very friendly, very much someone I trusted.  I still like my doc a whole, whole, whole lot, but it is a relief to find the back up to be a good option as well. 

We talked about the diabetes and the timeline for the next two and a half weeks.  He said that usually they’ll do an induction around 39 weeks for GD patients to make sure the lungs are healthy and the baby isn’t too big.  Ok, not a big deal.  He also talked some about the complications of induction (like the need to switch to a c-section) and some of the issues with big babies (like little linebacker shoulders that can get stuck).  All things we knew, all things we were prepared to hear.

Then he went to check the baby’s position.  I reclined on the table, tugged my shirt up and shrugged my big elastic belly panel down and he started to poke and prod to find the little one.  He found the butt pretty quickly…and his eyes got a little big.  And then he felt down the spine to the head.  His eyes got a bit bigger.  It was clear that little Pinchy isn’t feeling so little from the outside.  He made the comment about him not being small, but then followed it up with “so…with a c-section….”  Meh.  We’ll see what Dr. D says on Wednesday.  We have another ultrasound scheduled prior to the appointment to get some other size estimates.  I imagine Mr. Pinchy will be here prior to his projected October 27th arrival. 

I’m feeling OK, but not my best.  Nausea is back big time, sending me running for the nearest plumbing vessel at the merest indication I’m thinking of eating.  The bad part is that I can’t really turn to cereal, my savior in the first three months. And I can’t eat much at one time anyway.  No room.  Achy, especially in the hips and feet and hands.  Contractions all the time…mostly just Braxton Hicks, but I’ll still get the ones from my lower back that rear up and then fade away. Those take my breath away.  Baby feels lower and I’m peeing every hour on the hour, day and night.  But I think he’s just stretching out, too, since I feel his little feet pushing up under my ribs. 

In the meantime, getting caught up on the laundry and getting some good quality sleep are my highest priorities.  I need to pack my hospital bag and set up the pack and play in the bedroom.  Ray has a few little pieces of furniture to paint.  I’m hoping to make it to the grocery store for supplies for upcoming visitors. ”Casablanca” and “To have and have not” are at the Normal this weekend, so I’m planning to see those.  It should be a full, but relaxed weekend.  I feel like it’s the last one, so I have to be careful not to let myself get caught up in to do lists.  I need to rest right now.  To put my feet up and knit.  To take many, many, many baths.   

Soon, everyone…very soon!

All my little words

Life has been filling up my time lately.  Not in any meaningful and tangible way, but if I string together all my episodes of puttering, work, tv, naps and belly rubbing I can see that my time has been filled.

There have been bags packed.  Boxes unpacked.  Envelopes sealed. Gifts unwrapped.  New seasons started.  Baseball avoided. (at least by me…)

But it all points to one thing: we’re nearing the end.

My body seems to know it, too.  Over the weekend, there were several episodes of what seem to be real contractions.  Radiating from my lower lumbar area into my lower belly, my back, swelling up and then dying down again.  They got as close as 30 minutes and consistent for a couple of hours.  Rest, water and deep breathing quelled them, but I know they’ll be back.  They’ve reappeared a few times today, not as close, not as consistent.  I know I could walk around like this for weeks.  Or not.  There’s no way to tell anything other than that they are what they are. The silly little Braxton Hicks crop up here and there, but these are so incredibly different and pressure filled.  Ray’s eyes widen and he looks at me with great fear and annoyance when I can’t answer his inquiries right away about how they are and if we need to do something.  Nope.  Not yet.  Soon, but not yet.

The contractions aren’t the only sign.  Sleeping has gotten harder, my hips and back and ribs hurt and ache more.  And there is crazy internal stuff happening–for example, this morning’s time travel trip back to the first trimester when breakfast was a great idea, but the reality of it sent me running to the nearest disposal vessel.  I’m edgy and distracted.  And Pinchy is HUGE and not at all in position.  He has managed to get himself head downish, but he refuses to go where he’s supposed to.  Instead he squirms and kicks and moves around to have his feet anywhere from under my ribs to under my armpit.  And my poor feet and fingers…the swelling is astounding and annoying.  I did come across another pair of shoes I can wear, so that’s a good thing.  Tomorrow is a trip to the doctor…this time the associate of my main doc. 

I’ve heard he’s really great and if I deliver at an odd time, it may very well be him who helps Pinchy arrive.  It will be good to meet him and at least see him in person.

Those are the basics.  How I’m feeling about all of this is another story.  There is still part of me (most of me) that can comprehend this as well as I can comprehend infinity or why The Hills exists. Meaning virtually not at all.  Yes…I know I’m pregnant.  Yes…I know I’m almost to term.  BUT…my entire life changes in a cosmic blink of an eye.  Maybe 3 weeks.  Maybe 24 hours. But over a lifetime, virtually no time at all.  And I have no idea what the new reality will be like.  Sure, I hear things, but I can’t possibly understand it until I’m there.  Which compounds with my already present incredulity to leave me feeling like it’s all an enormous joke played for everyone elses amusement. 

But even that….even that nagging feeling of being on the outside…I recognize it from other hormone shifts…and it then becomes just one more sign that it’s real and it’s happening and that one day very soon, sooner than I realize or am probably ready for, Pinchy will no longer be theoretical.

What? Wednesday?

36 weeks, one day

Things have been busy over the last few days, so apologies for the lack of posting.  And I only have time for a quick one now….

Doctor’s appointment went well yesterday.  I’m on insulin injections morning and night…something I had hoped to avoid, but it is how it is. 

We picked a pediatrician.  I was thrilled with her demeanor and her perspective. 

I’m swollen. Feet, hands, ugh.

There is a distinct possibility that I’ll start working half days.  I’m struggling to get through the day and by 2 or so, I’m in physical pain from the swelling in my feet.  Most things are wrapped up, so it won’t be a huge issue if that’s how I decide to go.

But the big news that isn’t really news….I’m dialated 1cm and 40% effaced.  Which means…well….nothing, except that there is some progress.  I haven’t felt crampy/labory in a few days, so I think I may stay here for a while.  I’d love to have baby stick around inside for another week or so if we can manage it.

That’s it for now!  I’ll have lots more to write next time I feel close to awake.

Kind of a big, gray, blob.

Pinchy @ 35 weeks. He was being uncooperative.

To Infinity…and Beyond!!

I’m 35 weeks today and am headed to the doctor for an ultrasound and appointment.  Within the next 7 weeks MAX, Pinchy will be here and my whole life will be turned upside down.  We’re hitting the point where if he decided it was time, nothing would be done to stop him from showing up.  I mean, I could cross my legs, but I don’t know that that works all that well.

But there are big doin’s afoot in the household.  The nursery, in all it’s colorful glory, is basically done.  I am in love with the orange/mango/Thai restaurant color on the walls.  Not everyones taste, but it’s fun and bright and whimsical to us.  And the room will transition nicely from baby room to kid room with lots of space on the floor to play.  The room comes complete with a white rocking chair (spray painted garage sale find–$15 bucks for the chair AND paint!!), an absolute necessity for late night nursings and cranky moments.  We still need to find some decorative things for the wall.  I have some crafty stuff up my sleeve that I plan on trying to get done, but we’ll see.  I’ll post some pics of this all when I have a bit of time.

Max is proving himself to be the ideal BrotherDoggie.  Our new friend, 4 month old Clara, came over to hang out the other night.  She’s so much fun.  All chub and smiles.  But she had a few angry moments when she realized Mom and Dad were nowhere to be seen.  Max was quick to comfort her with kisses and sniffs, but backed off immediately when I told him to.  We were joking that those creepy Carl books were really written about Max.

It was a babyfull weekend.  On Sunday, we got to go have dinner with Matt, Kelly, Emma and iddle baby Halle (one of the easiest going babies I’ve ever seen!).  Halle was all smiles, even though she was tired.  I put her up on my shoulder, patted her 3 or 4 times and she was zonked.  There was super yummy lasagna for dinner, nice conversation about everything from baby gear to work to the challenges of new parenthood to everything else (with a random nod to ass hair thrown in to keep it real).  One of the best parts was going ”shopping” through Kelly’s maternity clothes for some generous infusions to keep me clothed for the next few weeks.  I’m wearing a lovely purple wrap top today thanks to my excursion.  Woo Hoo!  

My physical being has turned from glowing pregnant woman to swollen, bloated slug.  My feet. OH golly, my poor feet.  They are in sad, sad shape the last few weeks.  My ankles aren’t looking much better.  I had to get some OH SO SEXY compression socks to try and help out.  They kinda work…less swelling in my legs, but my feet are still puffy and feel bruised.  I’ll have to bring out the big guns–compression hose.  And wear them every day.  That is a challenge when it’s hot and I’m achy and a little crabby* already. 

*Ray–Despite the thoughts running through your head at the moment, there is no need for me to remove the “little” from that sentence.  I have been a delight and a joy at every turn.  And I’ll remind you that it’s SO much better than when I was on the drugs. –Your Loving Wife

The excessive fluid has lead to a slightly unexpected side effect–an arthritic feeling in my hands.  Overnight they’ll hurt, tingle and send shooting pains for no reason at all to the point they wake me up.  Then all day, the pain isn’t so sharp or tingly, but just a dull ache.    Makes it hard to focus at work…as though I needed one more reason.

I’m still only moderately freaked out by all the pending changes.  The worst part is the waiting and listening to this particular clock tick down.  When you are trying, your life moves in 2 week segments.  Here there are a variety of timetables, milestones, starts and stops.  But in this particular window, there is little other than the waiting.  The birth isn’t too scary a prospect (I may be one of the few people not terribly freaked out about it).  I’ve even been through it, just not from this side. :)  I know it will hurt, but pain with a purpose is easier to bear.  I think that’s how I made it through all the crazy infertility stuff, the loss, etc. 

It’s like my wedding–the day was important to me, but I had an understanding that it was not nearly as important as all the days that would follow.  Once labor starts, it’s finite.  There will be an end to it.  Motherhood stretches on and on into infinity.

Depends on what’s important to you…

Today, I accomplished something that I was beginning to suspected I would not accomplish again until Pinchy was here and well established.

I. Shaved. My. Legs.

Woo. Hoo.