Year In Review

Yesterday while updating files on my computer I found one titled "2013 Bucket List." See, I don't generally make new year's resolutions. I think it's because subconsciously I don't want to feel like a failure if I don't accomplish that one thing. Based on my track record the odds are good that I won't. But if I make a bucket list for the year then it's more like a small set of goals instead of one big thing that must come to pass or I will have effectively accomplished nothing because I quit trying in February.

I looked at my "bucket list" of things I wanted to do in 2013. I really wasn't able to check off much. In my defense, I did have a baby which threw a wrench in a lot of my plans. Ironically, number 14 on the list was "have a baby." I really didn't think this list through.

But when I read over the other things on the list it occurred to me that I wasn't bothered by the fact that they weren't completed. I don't think I genuinely wanted to do them in the first place. I mean, come on, run a half marathon?  ME!?! No. I don't want to do that. I have zero desire to run. At all. Ever. That's on the list because marathons are what people in their thirties are supposed to do.

And read three books? I don't really care about that either. I could spend time with my son while he still loves me or lock myself in a room with my nose in a book that will be late getting back to the library. Easy decision.

Other things on the list that didn't happen:

Get a puppy (because I had a baby)

Go on vacation (because I had a baby)

Christmas in Michigan (because I had a baby)

Lose 10 lbs (because I was pregnant, and had a baby)

etc. etc. etc.

So I was able to accomplish and check off one thing in 2013. And even though it meant putting almost everything else aside, it was the very best thing I could have done with my year. And all those other things.... they don't even matter.

Happy Birthday, Jesus!

Our first Christmas as a family of four was great. Caleb made out like a bandit. So.Many.HotWheels. Because he understands that I was busy with a newborn and didn't want to wrap anymore presents, Santa decided to open a lot of Caleb's gifts so they would be put together and ready for playing on Christmas morning. That kid had so much fun.

Brunch at my dad's is always delicious and this year was no exception. Egg and sausage casserole, Mike's secret recipe for scrambled eggs, home made potatoes O'Brien, fresh fruit, toast, coffee, and orange juice. And I ate it all with two hands while it was hot because aunties love to hold babies.

Everyone who said "lets not buy gifts for each other" showed up with a gift because we lie about it every year. We're family, we're allowed to lie to each other about stuff like that. But we know it's a lie so we show up prepared. Picture frames and Starbucks gift cards for everyone!

I hope Christmas brought you and your family joy and wonderful memories, too.

Time is flying by

Mom stuff. That's what's been happening over here. I'm still on maternity leave filling my days with laundry, washing bottles, getting puked on, and cleaning up poop. It's a life of luxury.

Megan had her one month check up a little delayed because of Thanksgiving. How dare my pediatrician go on vacation. At 6 weeks old she is finally the size of a newborn weighing in at 7lbs 0oz and 19in long.

In other news, we have decided that we are officially not resigning the lease on the house we are currently in. As of April 1, 2014 we will be homeless. I have no idea where we are going but I'm sick of this house and Brian is sick of renting. It's time to buy a house. That's a really scary thought for me right now. We've never stayed in one place very long, I'm really apprehensive about doing something so permanent. Not to mention if we go anywhere outside Southern California we have to find new jobs....April isn't that far away....

ID please?

Life has been busy. I mean Busy. I expected that having two children would be harder than having one. Of course, numbers and logic tell you that. But no one tells you how much harder. Let me be the one to tell you, its about a thousand percent harder. And then add the tip.

I love it, though. I wouldn't change it and I don't wish I didn't have another one. Brian, however is already talking about a third. I'm pretty sure I breathed fire and used The Force to choke him. Not that I don't want three kids, I don't know. But gees, give me some time to recover and forget how much I hate being pregnant. Once I start sleeping again is a better time to approach me about subjects that require conscious thought.

On a brighter note I was able to get out of the house the other day without either child. Ok, I dropped Caleb off at school, didn't have Megan, and went to the produce market. Still. NO KIDS. I bought wine.

The teenager at the checkout did not card me for the wine. Ok, so my hair wasn't done, I was carrying a diaper bag for a purse, I smelled like spit up and I only think that my shoes matched. But cut a girl some slack and card me anyway. When a woman looks like that and is buying wine she is either lonely, desperate, or both. Make her smile, ask for ID.

And Megan Makes Four.

The car seat challenge was the last thing Megan had to do before we could take her home. Babies her size tend to slump in car seats, if they fit at all, causing airway constriction. To make sure this doesn't happen and that Megan will be safe we had to bring the car seat in and test it out.

The test is an hour long and she gets hooked back up to the pulse oximeter and the three leads on her chest. She has to fit snugly and safely in the car seat and stay there for one hour with no "events." An event would be a drop in her oxygen level, a drastic change in her heart rate, apnea, or any other indication that she wasn't able to breathe well or tolerate the angle.

We brought our old car seat that Caleb used. It said it was rated for infants 5-35lbs. Megan was 4lb 1oz. We put it on the smallest setting and tightened it as much as we could. You could have fit two of her in there. We couldn't even start the test. She failed already. We left the NICU without Megan, again, but this time went to Babies R US.

There aren't many car seats that are rated down to 4lbs. Even the ones that are don't all get small enough. We tried to mentally picture her in it to see if it was small enough. If you know anything about us and buying car seats you know this is not an easy task. Once while choosing a seat for Caleb (for the second car, mind you we already had one) we debated in the store for 5 hours and left with nothing.

Do we get the infant one? Do we get a convertible? Ok, if we get this one, and she needs another one for your car, and then a second base... But if we get that one she'll use Caleb's when she out grows it... Caleb will only need a booster by that time... But the other one will last longer.... But in a month we can use the one we already have... That one is on sale... Absurd.

We finally picked one and the manager gave us a heck of a deal because we were so pathetic. In the end after a discount, a coupon, and the managers generosity we got a $170 car seat for $55. To top things off and make us look even more pathetic, I started crying. I'm obviously still hormonal. He just looked at me and said "I get it." Thank you, sir, for not judging me.

Back to the hospital we went and she fit in the new seat. An hour later she passed!! I was given all our discharge papers and I never even had to take her out of the seat, just scooped the whole thing up and out to the car we went.

After exactly one week in the NICU Megan came home on Halloween and we officially began our crazy adventure as a family of four.

Little by little

Every time I went to visit Megan I looked at the temperature that the isolette was set at. Every time it was a little lower, a little lower. They were weaning her down to room temperature and she was tolerating it really well.

They started her tube feedings at 5ml every three hours. That's almost nothing. But every 6 hours they upped it by 2ml. In no time she was taking nearly 20ml at each feeding and they let me try to breast feed her first and then bottle feed. Whatever she didn't take they gave her through the tube. She did better than anyone expected and was soon taking all of her feeds by mouth. When she got to 31ml they would take out the feeding tube.

One night when I went in for the evening visit Megan was in a bassinet. No isolette! Still hooked up to everything but we didn't need to worry about her temperature anymore. One step closer to coming home! When I got there the next morning she was back in the isolette. I was so down because it seemed like a step backward. The doctor explained to be that her bilirubin had been climbing and she needed a special light to get it back up. In order for the light to be effected she needs to be naked, and she would get too cold outside the isolette that way. Ok. Only temporary. 24 hours later she was back in a bassinet and didn't need the light anymore. Go Megan go!

She was doing so well and progressing so fast. Shortly after that she got her IV taken out since she didn't need any of the supplements anymore. Ok! Room air, check. Room temp, check. Tolerating feeds, check! Gaining weight.... eh every so slowing.

It took her almost the whole week to get back to 4 lbs. But they were able to take the feeding tube out and her nurse, unofficially, told me she was ready to go home. Best news! She told me to bring the car seat in the morning for the "challenge." Eeeek!

One thing after another

The first day in the NICU I asked what parameters needed to be met in order for us to take her home. It used to be that they had to weigh 5lbs. Not the case anymore. As long as they are doing well and steadily gaining weight, they can go home at any weight.

For Megan to go home she needed to be able to breath room air on her own. tolerate feedings well, hold her temperature outside the isolette, and as a general trend be gaining weight, and pass the "car seat challenge.

We were off to a goof start. Megan was able to keep her pulse/ox at 100% right from the start. No need for ventilators or breathing treatments. She was initially placed in an isolette (incubator) because she needed to have her temperature regulated for her. She got an IV in her tiny little hand for fluids and a sugar solution because her glucose was so low. 

Babies are expected to lose weight in the first few days of life. This is normal as long as they don't lose too much. Megan wasn't tolerating feedings by mouth and what little she would take in, she spit back up. She got down to 3lbs 12oz so she got a feeding tube. She also got a new solution added to her IV that they call "gatorade." It's yellow and full of electrolytes and other essentials that she wasn't getting otherwise. This caused some stress on her IV and that night her arm was all red and puffy. Poor thing, I know that hurt.

Her nurse changed her IV to her foot, but blew three veins in her other hand before doing so. Megan was such a trooper. She never even cried. When they were trying to find a vein in her foot they turned off the lights and put a flashlight up to her leg. Her skin was still so new and translucent you should see right through it. Unbelieveable.

Poor little girl had a feeding tube, an IV, a pulse/ox, and 3 lead lines coming off her chest. And she just slumbered away and didn't let any of it bother her. My little fighter.

Not the way I planned it

I really wanted to blog about Megan's stay in the NICU as it was all happening, while my emotions were high and things were happening day by day. But that just didn't happen. After I was discharged from the hospital I was driving back and forth to see her 3 times a day, plus trying to pump breast milk every three hours around the clock and still get dinner on the table. There wasn't time for blogging.

She was born on a Thursday night and I was discharged on Saturday afternoon. Brian came up to the hospital to pick me up and loaded the car while my nurse escorted me out. We drove away from the hospital, just the two of us. I sobbed uncontrollably. It hurt my heart so badly to be leaving the hospital without my baby.

I knew she was in good hands and that she was well taken care of. That wasn't the issue. I never worried about her safety or her well being.  NICU nurses are some of the most compassionate nurses I have ever met and are more than capable of taking care of my baby's medical needs. But they aren't her mother. No one will love her like I do or hold her the way I do. No nurse can give her the skin to skin contact that is so beneficial in the first weeks of life. She will cry longer than she needs to because her nurse is taking care of another baby. A nurse is a nurse, and that's wonderful. But a  nurse isn't her mom.

I stressed every minute that I wasn't there with her. My days revolved around pumping and getting back to the hospital for her next feeding. I made sure I was there every shift to meet every nurse that would be taking care of her. I stayed for about 2 hours every time and came back a few hours later. It began to really wear me down. I didn't care, it was for Megan and I'd do anything for that girl.

And Then...

After three attempts to walk to the bathroom with my legs buckling underneath me enough of the epidural had finally worn off that I could take small steps. With Darlene on one side of me and Brian on the other I made it to the bathroom. Darlene brought a wheelchair and I was escorted to my post partum room where I met my new nurse for the rest of the night.

Brian and I were left to settle ourselves into the room and he asked me what Baby Girl's name was. I don't know. All I could say was "I don't know."  I didn't even really get to see her. At some point in between contractions we had narrowed it down to two names. And I just couldn't pick one without seeing her. He had already been to the NICU to make sure she was ok there. Thank God for him. I couldn't go with her.

My nurse wanted me to rest and sleep since it had been such a long day. I said I had to see my baby. It was 1:00am and I didn't care. It had been 3.5 hours since she was taken away by strangers to a cold room without her mother to comfort her after the trauma of being born. At least that's how I felt. My nurse brought a wheelchair.

Brian wheeled me down to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit and to Baby Girl's isolette, #7. There were about 12 other babies in the NICU, all in various degrees of health. By the time I got to see her she already had an IV in her hand, leads on her chest and a pulse oximeter on her foot. She was in a box. I cried. I met her nurse and she even let me hold her briefly. Not too long because she needed to be in the temperature controlled isolette, but I got to hold her. It was amazing. She was so tiny. Tiny and perfect and absolutely beautiful and I cried. Again.

Brian smiled at me and said "I think I know what her name is, but what do you think?" I knew too. I looked up at him and we both said it: Megan Allison.

Welcome Baby Girl!

Check again, I told her. Dr Greenburg said she would check, explaining that sometimes she can get that little last it of cervix over the baby's head . Then she said, "You're right. That's a 10. There's no cervix there, you can push."

Thank You God.

It didn't take long. I pushed on the contractions and it only took three. Less than ten minutes after my first push Baby Girl was born at 9:33pm and Brian was cutting the cord. As they brought her to my chest she let out a cry and it was the sweetest sound I had ever heard. Caleb never cried and I knew something was wrong with him. When this little girl cried I knew her lungs were working, I  knew she was ok. And I cried too. After having her resting on my belly while they wiped her down they took her over to the scale and to get her APGAR score. All 4lbs 4oz and 17 inches of her were doing great. She still didn't have a name.

While the NICU team was taking care of her Dr Greenburg was still taking care of me. She delivered the placenta and, because I'm a nerd, I asked to see it.

It was gross. Not because it was afterbirth, that didn't bother me at all. Gross because it wasn't smooth and uniform like it's supposed to be. It was lumpy and misshapen. She even showed me a little part that was discolored that was actually an infarct, dead non-functional portion.

What's more interesting was the cord. Dr Greenburg actually said "Oh!" and her eyes widened. What? What?! It was what she called a hypercoiled cord. Instead of the 3 vessels traveling nicely together in a helix like shape they were twisted and tangled like a knotted up rope. It's something that can't be detected on ultrasound and isn't discovered until delivery. What was amazing was that in most cases of cords like this the babies are either born very VERY prematurely or they are still born. The cord just can't deliver the blood and oxygen that the baby needs. The fact that Baby Girl made it to 36 weeks shocked Dr Greenburg and proved one more time that this little girl is a miracle.

After posing for a family picture, Dr Greenburg was off to another delivery, Baby Girl was off to the  NICU, Brian was off to McDonald's to get me my first meal in 15 hours, and I was left in the delivery room waiting for my numb legs to function again.

All of a sudden I had an entourage ....

Dr Greenburg came in to check on me and Darlene, RN, told her about the shivers. Dr Greenburg was thrilled. And everyone was right, after that things happened very fast.

I started feeling more pressure in my low back and in my bottom. No more cramping or contractions in the front of my belly but the pressure in my bottom was really uncomfortable. Back labor sucks. Darlene checked me and I was 6cm. Ok, that's something. I felt a little better about making some progress and she left the room to let me try to rest a little before the next check.

At around 8:00 I pressed my call button and Darlene came right in. I told her the pressure was starting to feel like pain. Tolerable, but it was definitely pain and I wasn't supposed to feel pain. She gave me a boost of my epidural. I'm so glad I called her when I did because VERY VERY quickly, before she left the room, that pain was intolerable. I couldn't hold still and started to hyperventilate. I was trying to breath through it and I couldn't breath at all. My O2 sats got down to 77 and Darlene put me on oxygen. I was laying on my side and Brian was eye level with me at the side of the bed holding my hand, trying to calm me down and regulate my breathing. He was amazing. He kept kissing my forehead and telling me what a great job I was doing, that Baby Girl was almost here. He was so encouraging and loving. I could not have done this without him

The epidural boost didn't touch the pain and I couldn't understand why I was feeling it. At one point I was actually crying because it was so awful. My nurse explained that they boost the epidural 4 times and then they call the anesthesiologist to give me more directly into my back.

Darlene checked me. 8cm. She called Dr Greenburg and before she got there Darlene checked me again. 9.5cm with a cervical lip. Dr Greenburg walked in the room and got that update. The anesthesiologist followed right behind her and injected me again. The NICU team and a respiratory therapist followed him.  Darlene said "just a little more, you can't deliver with that cervical lip." Even though it had only been 10 minutes, I told her to check again. Trust me, check again.

A little Something Something

I was beyond discouraged and getting tired of waiting. It had been over 12 hours since I got the pitocin to induce labor and nothing was happening to make Baby Girl's appearance come any sooner. At some point I started feeling some cramping and a little pressure in my low back. Apparently those were contractions and I just needed a boost from my epidural.

With that the nurse decided to check my cervix. 3cm. I had been at 3cm all stinkin' day but the thought was that if I could feel the contractions then they must be getting stronger and maybe this was the "something" we had been waiting for. Nope.

It was about 7:00pm and it was shift change. Brian noticed I was shivering. He asked if I was cold and asked the new nurse for another blanket. She brought me one but I told her I wasn't really that cold, I just couldn't stop shaking. As she covered me up and got report from the day shift nurse I could see wheels turning in her head. After getting report she said "I'm going to go get the bassinet ready. We're having a baby."

Apparently the involuntary shaking is a sign of change in the body. It's just one of the ways a body reacts when it senses something is about to happen. Darlene, my nurse, had just come on shift after getting report that nothing was happening. Then all of a sudden she was confident that this was the "something" and started getting everything ready. Really? Because of some shivers? But labor and delivery nurses are amazing and have a special intuition, and she was right.

Hurry up and wait

It was a long day. I was much more comfortable after getting the epidural and they were able to up the pitocin dosage since I wasn't feeling any of the contractions. Dr Gunnarson was available to come in just for me until 6:00pm and everyone assumed we would have a baby by then.

Progress was slow. The idea behind increasing the pitocin is to make the contractions stronger and effectively pushing the baby down into the pelvis, or what for most women people call when the baby "drops." When that happens the pressure on the cervix is what makes you dilate. As they increased the pitocin to speed things up our little girl didn't tolerate it very well. She started having drops in her heart rate and not moving down at all. Dr Greenburg decided to back way off on the pitocin and thus slowed things even more.

Whats more, Baby Girl was head down but facing backwards causing a lot of back labor. It's really not advisable to deliver like that so my nurses actually had me lay flat on my stomach trying to "squish" her and get her to flip. None of this was comfortable. I was flipping and flopping and stretching and getting discouraged that nothing was happening. Everyone kept saying that as soon as things started to happen it would go very fast. I was just waiting for the "something" to happen.

Six o'clock came and I got a phone call in my room. It was Dr Gunnarson. She had talked to my nurses and new what was going on. She called to give me a pep talk. How awesome is she? Unfortunately, since nothing was progressing and the day was over she would not be able to deliver. I asked my nurse who was on call the next day, Friday, in case it wouldn't be Dr Greenburg either. Everyone assured me that there was no way, No Way, I wasn't having this baby that night. I wasn't so sure.

No Turning Back

Wednesday Night: I called Brian to tell him that I was admitted and he grabbed my bag and headed up to the hospital. I knew nothing was going to happen that night because I needed cervidil to make me dilate, which takes 10-12 hours to be effective. Brian took the night off work and I sent him home to get some real sleep. I knew I was going to need him the next day.

Thursday Morning: Brian got to the hospital about an hour after they started the pitocin drip. Oh pitocin... I remember you. My contractions weren't bad yet so I hadn't had any form of pain control. As with Caleb I did not want any systemic drugs, only an epidural when necessary.

My doctor, Dr Gunnarson (whom I love), was not on call. Dr Greenburg was on call and would be taking care of me. I've met her before and I was so SO happy to know that if it couldn't be Dr Gunnarson delivering that I would have Dr Greenburg there. When she walked in the room Thursday morning to say hello and go over a care plan for the delivery I felt a million pounds lift off me. Then Dr Gunnarson walked in the room! She would be in the office seeing patients just a mile up the road and would be at the hospital around lunch time for a scheduled surgery. She promised that if she was available she would leave the office and come deliver for me. And Dr Greenburg promised to call her if I needed her. I'm pretty sure I cried (because I cry a lot) just knowing that was a possibility.

The pitocin started to work and I started to get uncomfortable. I could feel contractions but nothing major and I wasn't sure I was ready for the epidural just yet. My nurse convinced me that I should get the anesthesiologist while I could because he had back to back c-sections and would be very busy. Deal.

It was quick and seemed easy for the anesthesiologist but painful for me. I had a spinal prior to the epidural with Caleb and had no idea, no one told me, how bad it would hurt. Not the needle, but as the medicine went in I could feel it traveling and every second of it was painful until he stopped pushing the meds. Brian sat in front of me, my legs hanging off the side of the bed and using his knee as a foot stool. I held on to him so tight while I tried to hold still through the pain. I kept telling myself this was so I wouldn't feel pain later.....

Baby Day!

I'm finally getting it back together after having a baby. Back up. I had baby! I intended to blog more throughout the whole ordeal to keep you all (read "both of you") more updated but it just didn't happen. I'd like to still pretend that I did so, if you'll humor me, you may see a few rapid fire posts as I relive the last few weeks and tell the story of the arrival of our sweet Baby Girl.

When I last left you I was scheduled to go into the doctor's office for regular NSTs and fluid checks. In the midst of that there was a Tuesday night that I called the office after hours when I noticed my blood pressure was too high at home. My doctor happened to be on call and she sent me to Labor and Delivery, my home away from home. After being there for an hour my pressure had come down and the baby looked great on the monitor so she sent me home.

Wednesday, the next day, I had my regular appointment at the office. The first thing the nurse does is get me on the monitor and then check my blood pressure. It was dangerously high. Something in the range of 160/105. She told my doctor who promptly sent me back to L&D. I didn't even get to finish the NST.

So here I am in my familiar little monitoring room at the hospital with all my new nurse friends. My BP came down but still around 150/90.  I'm 36 weeks and 2 days and the doctor on call just said "We're done messing around with this."  So I've been admitted tonight and scheduled for induction tomorrow. It's baby day!! She still doesn't have a name.....

Letting It Ride

I saw my doctor yesterday, even though I wasn't supposed to. I was scheduled for my regular NST and fluid check but not a visit with the doctor until Friday's appointment. When I was called back the nurse said "are you seeing the doctor today?" I told her that I wasn't scheduled to but that I wish I was. She made it happen.

I talked to her about the jerk perinatologist and asked her all my questions and explained all my concerns. Without crying. I'm so proud of myself. She basically agreed with me that the perinatologist should have had a little more compassion and presented things in a more professional manner, that often times they are focused on the baby and forget that the person sitting in front of them is a patient, too.

She also agreed with his recommendation, though. But I feel better hearing it from her and knowing that she is on board with letting things ride. She was very impressed with how much growth there was (even though it wasn't much, she was expecting less). She said "To be honest, I really thought you were going to have a baby on Monday." So did I. No one, not a single doctor I've seen, thought we'd make it this far.


So right now the plan is to go in 3 times a week for NST and fluid check, blood work once a week and seeing the doctor once a week. If at any point any of those go south or my blood pressure spikes then we'll deliver. Otherwise we're hanging in there and it's really day by day.

But 37 weeks (which if you remember was initially called a miracle to reach) is still the day. My doctor said that even if everything is still stable that's the day we bail her out. And I'll happily take that miracle.

Even when it's good news, bedside manner is still important

There are conflicting studies and papers about whether or not bed rest is actually effective or if it just makes you go crazy (that part I can attest to). But the way the perinatologist explained it made sense that it would work. And the biggest reason why opinions differ is because of the people conducting the study: those who do daily clinical work as see results in patients vs those who primarily do research. The clinicians say it works. And I believe him.

Obviously my blood pressure stays down when I'm relaxed and not trying to do a million things and keep up with everything that comes with being a mom and a wife. And my blood pressure is the problem. So it makes perfect sense to me that when you knock those things out of the equation, lower the BP, baby and I are both healthier. And wouldn't you know after two weeks of bed rest the ultrasound at 35 weeks showed her abdomen grew. It actually grew appropriately in those 2 weeks. More than anyone expected.

Shes still too small but there was two weeks of growth in two weeks. After zero growth, I'll call that amazing.

I say all this to say that the perinatologist we saw on Monday was a jerk. He said bed rest does nothing, it's just something doctors recommend when they don't know what else to do. He basically said "You have a small baby, so what. You're fine. Go home and schedule an induction in another two weeks." I was trying to understand what my limitations were and I asked "So basically still no activity. No cooking dinner, things like that?" He looked at Brian and said, "I don't know, can YOU cook?" I wanted to punch him in the face.

With everything we've been through and the team of doctors who decided to put me in the hospital because things were so severe I get this one doctor who has decided that nothing is wrong. I believe in the power of prayer but, really, all of a sudden everything is normal? No. I believe that it's better. I believe that the steps we've taken to assure that we can get this girl as healthy as possible have made a huge difference. I do not believe that everything is candy and roses.

Brian was upset too but obviously less hormonal than me and tried to see both sides. "Just because his bedside manner sucks doesn't mean he's wrong. He IS a doctor." Yes. Yes he is a doctor and I'm not. I just think he's a bad doctor and I wish I would have asked to see the other perinatologist that I had seen at my two previous appointments. This new guy just gave me his opinion like it was fact and didn't give me any supporting data or evidence as to how he came up with why he thought that way. I had to ask to see the growth charts. Brian had to ask what percentile she was in now. The guy was just a jerk.

I called my doctor as soon as we left the office because I wasn't comfortable with how we left things and I still felt like I didn't know anything. She wasn't in the office but I'll feel so much better after talking with her, even if she says the same thing.

Ultrasound Update

I had my ultrasound yesterday, along with blood work, another 24 urine study, and NST. The blood work was normal as it always has been. The 24 hour study came back with an increase in protein from the last one, but not enough to deliver me yesterday. The NST went well after some juice to make Baby Girl move a little. The ultrasound showed some growth, although not a lot.

From my ultrasound at 31 weeks to the scan at 33 weeks Baby Girl's abdomen didn't grow at all. This was why I got put in the hospital and eventually bed rest at home.

After two weeks of bed rest the ultrasound at 35 weeks showed her abdomen grew. It actually grew appropriately in those 2 weeks. She's still too small but there was two weeks of growth in two weeks. After the previous interval with zero growth, I'll call that amazing.

The perinatologist wasn't impressed. He was a jerk (more about this in the next blog, it got way too long). I called my doctor as soon as we left his office because I just wasn't comfortable with the way he left things. I'm waiting to hear back from her today. So for now, nothing has changed as far as a plan. I'm still resting at home but we are thrilled with the growth. She's estimated at just over 4 pounds so I'm crossing my fingers I can take back the premie clothes :)  

Day By Day

It's been a long, rough couple of weeks. After my last ultrasound on Sept 30 they decided I needed to be admitted to the hospital at only 33weeks. In the two weeks since my previous ultrasound Baby Girl hadn't grow at all. Now she was measuring 4 weeks behind my dates and in a more serious condition of growth restriction. I cried. A lot.

This turned our world upside down in an instant. We were prepared for them to tell us that we might need to deliver, we weren't prepared to be in the hospital for the rest of the pregnancy. We went home to get a bag of things and back to the hospital to check in. Caleb was very sweet and wanted to hold my hand the whole way there. I was still crying and he was concerned. I don't know how I got such a sweet, affectionate boy. I'm so blessed.

Grandma and Grandpa stepped in to the rescue and kept Caleb overnight for two nights while Brian had to work. Papa (Brian's dad) flew in from Michigan to stay with the boys and help out. Having someone to drive Caleb to school and stay with him at night and cook meals has helped a lot.

I spent 8 days in the hospital. The hardest part was being away from my son. He came to visit and cried every time it was time to leave. It absolutely broke my heart. But after those 8 days the team of doctors taking care of me decided that I was stable enough to be on bed rest at home. They were happy to see me make it to as milestone 34 weeks.

I still have to go to the office 3 days a week for monitoring and I'm still scheduled for my ultrasound on Monday, October 14. I'll be 35 weeks and that will tell us a lot more. In the mean time, I'm glad to be home and trying not to move off the couch.

Buying Some Time

At my Monday appointment my doctor said she really feels that my time with this pregnancy is very limited. I'm 32 weeks now and everyone seems to think that 34 weeks is the magic number. But if the results from the 24 hour test came back bad or my ultrasound next Monday is bad she would need to deliver me. She didn't want me to miss the window where a steroid shot to mature Baby Girl's lungs would be effective so she called ahead and off to the hospital we went.

Brian and I sat in a little room for almost two hours while they had me on monitors and gave me a shot, which hurt like crazy. I'm glad Brian was holding my hand. And making me guzzle juice so she'd move for the monitors.

Tuesday I went back to the hospital for round two of the shot. It didn't hurt as bad but I'm pretty sure the nurse mistook my huge love handle for a butt cheek and the medicine went into my fat and not my muscle. I don't blame her, my love handles are nice and round and my butt cheek is flat like the back of my thigh should be. One could only assume. She assured me it was fine.

Today I got the results from my 24 hour test and they were a little high. Just past the cut off for early preeclampsia. But given my gestational age and the fact that my BP has been stable, high but stable, she doesn't think there needs to be any intervention at this time. A small blessing of relief!

So for now, Baby Girl gets to stay in a little longer. At least until my ultrasound on Monday. Unless I actually go into pre-term labor we aren't having a baby this weekend. With that, Brian is getting on a  plane tomorrow morning and leaving me until Sunday. I don't know how I'm going to rest being a single mom of a 3 year old for 4 days.

Getting Real

We went on our hospital tour today. It made things really real. I'm having baby girl at a different hospital than where Caleb was born and realized I had no clue where I was going when I ended up in L&D at 11pm. At least I'm familiar with the hospital itself because I've worked there and had so many appointments. Brian didn't even know where to park.

She covered pretty much everything I could think of except the NICU. We walked past it and I wanted to look in. I wanted to ask a million questions. At the end we hung back and asked her about visitors, hours, etc. She told me she would have one of the NICU nurses call me next week because she really didn't know much.

When she was explaining to the whole group how a typical birth experience goes she painted this beautiful picture of bonding and creating a healthy environment for the baby. She talked about bringing the baby right to mom before cleaning them and the importance of immediate skin to skin contact. All the wonderful things that they do that make the baby's transition in to an air breathing world so much better. I nearly cried because I know it won't be like that for me. I have horrible nightmares about them just taking her away without even getting to hold her.

We're also painting her dressers this weekend. We realized we're about out of weekends to get things ready for her. Brian is out right now picking up a sanding block from my step-brother and then we're going to get the paint. After they're done and in the room I just need to wash everything and put it all away. I need to make one trip to buy a few small things and then I think we'll be ready for her. Oh, except for a name.

Hanging On

I saw my doctor today to go over the ultrasound results and check on how the new blood pressure meds are working. She's not panicking either but made it clear that I am much more high risk than we originally thought. I've been high risk since the beginning but my complications are progressing and she's watching me like a hawk. 

As of today my blood pressure is still extremely high and there was a little protein in my urine. That prompted her to up medications once again and to order stat labs and a 24 hr urine study. The labs came back normal, thank goodness. I was never diagnosed with preeclampsia because I never had protein in my urine. But now... it's a possibility. The 24 hr test will tell for sure and if there is too much, "We'll have to deliver you." Like, next week?! I wasn't prepared for that.

I was still trying to wrap my brain around the possibility of being delivered in 3 weeks. Now there is a possibility that it could be next week? Right, like that's going to help me keep my blood pressure down.

I'm officially off work as of today and she put me on modified bed rest. It's way sooner than I thought and all a little scary, but I know it's the right thing to do. I know it's what's best for this little girl and if staying home keeps her in even one week longer I'll take it.

A Little Bit For Me

There are a million things I need to do before this little girl comes and I suddenly have a lot less time than I thought. Among all the cleaning and washing and blah blah I've decided I also need some me time.

Once I don't have to worry about my work schedule anymore I fully intend to get a hair cut, get my eye brows done, a pedicure and maybe a manicure. There will be multiple Starbucks trips included as well. (Hey, I got a lot of gift cards for my birthday, might as well make good use of them).

I saw a link online to a list of things to do before baby comes that don't necessarily involve the baby. Yes, every mom washes all the new clothes and packs the hospital bag. But the list had a few other interesting things to include pampering. There will be no time for that after the baby comes and I'm overdue anyway. And I deserve it.

One of the other things it suggested was to have someone else (an agency or private party) come clean your house. Any volunteers?

In Other [baby] News....

Here's the latest. I had a growth ultrasound on Thursday to check on Baby Girl. One of the things I'm at risk for is placental failure which causes growth restriction (to varying degrees).

Short version: Shes's small and I won't make it to my due date.

Long version: My placenta is starting to fail based on the Dopplers they did and Baby Girl is only at the 7th percentile for her size. Her growth is slowing down because she's not getting all the necessary things she needs from my placenta. The placenta if failing because we can't get my blood pressure under control so it's not going to get any better. It can only get worse.

The perinatologist is having me start non-stress tests (NST) twice a week to monitor her and I'll be getting growth ultrasounds with Doppelrs every two weeks now. I'm done working after next week in order to eliminate extra stress that could cause my blood pressure to go up any more. The doctor said he thinks that I will easily make it to 34 weeks (I'll be 31 weeks on Monday) and he'd be really happy with that. After 34 weeks I'll be holding my breath that her growth is stable. If it's not, or the Dopplers show less plancental function at some point the doctors will decide to give me a steroid injection to mature her lungs and deliver her.

It's scary to have a baby so early but really probably the best thing for her. Right now she's not getting enough oxygen and nutrients because my placenta isn't doing it's job. Once she's out she will have an unlimited supply of both and could potentially do very well.

If there is a silver lining its this: There are two types of growth restriction, one is better than the other because it spares the brain and the rest of the body lags behind. These babies are the ones who do very well after they deliver. Once they have everything they need that they weren't getting inside the womb the body catches up to their normally developed brain. This is the kind of growth restriction that our baby has.

So it's week by week and test by test. We're definitely going to have this girl sooner than we thought... and she doesn't even have a name.

How much longer.....

I know that every pregnancy is different. I guess I was just expecting the different things to be more like how I carried the baby and the extent of nausea, etc. Little things. It's still a pregnancy, still a baby growing inside.

I never thought the different things would cause trips to ER and Labor and Delivery in the middle of the night.

I've been having a lot of pelvic pressure for a few weeks and I told my doctor about it at my last appointment. She didn't seem concerned, just thought it was they way the baby was sitting low in my pelvis. The last three days that pressure has turned into a constant pain and feels like it's lower in my cervix. It hurts to walk. It's the kind of pain I felt when Caleb was in the birth canal and I was ready to deliver. And it didn't go away and lying down didn't make it better. And he internet is scary when you start reading about all the things that it could be, like early dilation and cervical incompetence.

I decided to go to bed. It's 10:00pm on a Saturday night, just go to bed. So I took my blood pressure like I'm supposed to and it was high. Really high. And I'm emotional and ran every worst case scenario through my brain before I finally called my doctor.

She was concerned more about the blood pressure than the pain and told me to come over to L&D at the hospital and she would meet me there. Of course all of this happens when Brian is out of town for the weekend. I sat on the couch and cried.

All the tests and exams she did were normal and my blood pressure eventually settled into a high normal, which she is ok with for me since it's high when I'm not pregnant. I'm pretty sure everything she did was just to give me peace of mind, but I don't care. I felt better knowing that I'm not starting to dilate and my cervix isn't shortening and it's just a crappy way to be pregnant. It also helped my blood pressure to be able to calm down and stop worrying about baby girl. I wouldn't have slept all night without the reassurance that the pain wasn't anything to worry about.

This pregnancy has been stressful for me and I'm not sure how much more I can take. Knowing that, my doctor plans to take me out of work. She really wants me resting and keeping my blood pressure down.  It's way earlier than I wanted to go out but if it means keeping baby girl healthy and not going into preterm labor then I'll do whatever I need to do.

Thanks to my dad who came with me to the hospital and to my step-mom for staying with my sleeping toddler.

Cleanig party, anyone?

I'm not a messy person but I'm not super clean either. I do laundry when there are no clean towels, I do dishes when there are no clean bowls. That's how I operate. Unless people are coming over.

Nothing makes me clean like having guests. Doesn't matter who it is, if I know someone will be entering my home it has to be clean. Brian and I joke that we need to have people over more often (it's rare) because that's the only way we pick up clutter, and usually the only way I clean the kitchen floor. 

Sunday morning Caleb has a play date and my house is hazmat worthy. I love that Caleb has actual friends that he asks to play with by name, and I love it even more when I get along with their mom. It makes play dates and zoo trips so much less annoying when the other mom is someone I enjoy hanging out with too.

So here we are, Friday night and with no motivation I look around the house thinking of all the things I need to do and clean and put away before they get here on Sunday. "Thinking about" is the key phrase here. I know I will kick myself later for saying "I can do it tomorrow."

Leanne, if you get here Sunday and no one answers the door, just come inside. I'll probably be trapped under a pile of laundry holding a can of Lysol and a white flag.

Why yes, I am right handed

Physical therapy for my shoulder has been going well. After just three sessions my therapist, Matt, said I was already 40% better. And I feel it. The first session was rough, I hurt more the next day. But then it got easier and I could tell I was getting better.

At my fourth session Matt asked for an update (like he always does) and I told him that after a very busy weekend at work my shoulder only hurt minimally (muscle aches, not the pain I was getting PT for) and that my hand didn't go numb at all. Matt did a fist pump and a happy dance. Huge progress!!

Today was another story. Yesterday was insanely busy at work, I didn't even get a lunch. Crabby, hungry pregnant ladies are not to be messed with. I fully expected my shoulder to hurt today and to need ice. No! Zero pain, absolutely zero. But my hand? Oh numbness and tingles every time I grabbed the transducer. And when I blow dry my hair. And when I use a knife. And when I drive, and write, and open a door. Matt did not do a happy dance.

The hand is getting worse. Fast. And it's really annoying. It's been decided that it's pregnancy induced carpal tunnel. Because I need one more thing. So I just need to deal with it until after the baby is born and wear a brace all the time. Here's hoping it goes away when she's born and with rest from maternity leave. Not being able to blow dry my hair has been devastating.

Me Next!

I'm so excited that my sister-in-law had her baby very early Tuesday morning! So early, in fact, that it was still Monday night for me on the West coast. I'm sad that I can't be there to meet the little guy and to help her with her daughter while they adjust, or bring over dinner, or whatever they need. She went home from the hospital today and I'm jealous. I'm jealous that she has her precious new baby to snuggle. That she can finally hold him.  I'm jealous that her family can finally settle into a new normal with that much more love in their home.

But I'm also jealous that she's not pregnant anymore.

I'm crabby. I know. Aside of all the stress my pregnancy has caused with abnormal blood work, abnormal ultrasounds, high(er) blood pressure, etc I'm also just having a rough time.  

My back hurts like crazy, nausea has come back full force at 28 weeks, the pelvic pressure makes me want to never walk again, I can't sleep, and whomever said Braxton Hicks contractions don't hurt was a liar.

I didn't get any of this with Caleb. At this point I was feeling pretty well. I was huge, but good. I never got Braxton Hicks contractions, my blood pressure was controlled, it was so easy. I didn't realize how easy it was at the time. I still hated being pregnant, but it was nothing like this.  

Maybe I'm just a whiner. I know I'm not the first pregnant lady to complain about back pain. But sometimes the back pain and the abdominal pain are just too much and all my 3 year old wants to do is play cars and I can't get off the couch. I'm miserable.

Caleb was also an easy baby. I really hope this isn't a sign of what she will be like as an infant.

Happy Birthday

Monday was my birthday. I'm officially older than 30. Ok, only by a year, but still. Now I'm not 30, I'm in my thirties. I don't really feel any different but I'm pretty sure my lack of sleep makes me look older.

I had a pretty good day. I worked, which was fine because if I had stayed home I would have been alone and doing dishes and laundry. I definitely didn't want to spend my birthday like that. When I got home Brian made sure I didn't have to cook and Caleb brought me a new purse full of goodies, including a giant bag of peanut M&Ms. He's a boy after my own heart, and I'm pretty sure his Daddy had something to do with it.

They even bought me a giant chocolate caramel cupcake and put candles in it. So far, 31 is better than 30.

Depends on what you mean by "problem"

The other day a Facebook friend of mine posted a status about her Christmas problem. Her problem being that it's the middle of August and she already has Christmas done. Not done as in presents bought. No, I mean she has blueprints of how the furniture will be rearranged to accommodate the tree, which is already decorated in her head (from her labeled ornament boxes which are organized by shape, size, and color). Not only does she know what she will be serving for Christmas Eve dinner, she knows who will bring what dish and I'm pretty sure she has a seating arrangement. She has a baking schedule and plans for homemade wreaths and garland. She has already sewn new drapes that will match the holiday decor and is making advent calendars.

That's a Christmas problem.

Or is it? Year after year I tell myself I will have a plan. Next year will be different. I will get it together. If I were as organized as she is I wouldn't be running to the post office on December 15 with a stack of Christmas cards that I hope all have stamps on them. Inevitably there will be at least 2 that didn't get a stamp because I ran out and all the post office has left on December 15 is the Madonna with the creepy baby that nobody else wants.

If I had a well thought out plan like my friend does I wouldn't be scrambling to get my cookies baked on December 23 before the family party where I will be handing them out as gifts. I wouldn't need to go to three different grocery stores to get everything I need to make/bake my assigned dish for dinner because I would have gotten it before Thanksgiving.

So maybe being done with Christmas in the middle of August isn't such a bad thing. Maybe I should take a few pointers from my friend and actually get it together this year. After all, on top of the regular Christmas craziness I'm going to have a newborn which will only further complicate the ability to get things done.

I think this year for my birthday I will buy myself holiday stamps. 

Bye Bye Binkie

Caleb gave up the binkie. Reluctantly, and really without much of a choice, but it's gone.

We've tried to get rid of the binkie before and I felt like we were traumatizing him. He just wasn't ready. When pre-school started in July we decided not to let him take the binkie with him. He would have to do naptime at school without it. And he did, every day without difficulty he took a nap with no binkie. At home was another story. The more I read into when it becomes a problem for tooth development and speech impairment I decided it was still ok as long as it was ONLY for bed (check) and as long as he wasn't trying to talk with it in his mouth. Ding! Problem. Just because the binkie went in the mouth at bedtime didn't mean he stopped talking. And no amount of effort on our part could get him to stop talking with it.

So I sabotaged it.

Friday afternoon while Caleb was at school I cut two tiny slits in the binkie rendering it useless for soothing sucking. At bedtime when he asked for it I gave it to him like nothing was wrong, like every other night. We started reading a story and he chewed on it funny. He stopped me from reading and said "can you wash this please?" So I did, and kept reading. He stopped me again, "Can you wash it again? It needs water." I did. Then he said "Maybe I can wash it?" Sure. I let him do that twice and we got back to reading. "Something is wrong with my beedy. Look. And it sounds funny." I gave it a once over like I had no idea what was going on, didn't make a big deal out of it. "I'm sure it's ok."

"No, mamma, it's ruined."

"Oh no, it must be broken. What should we do?"

"Nothing. Lets do nothing."

So he set it down next to him and I finished the story. Bed time took about 45 more minutes after the story but he never but the binkie back in his mouth. He just let it sit there next to him, as if that were comfort enough. In the morning when he asked for it I reminded him that it was broken. He said he was sad. I told him was sad, too.

"What should we do with a broken binkie?"

"Throw it away."

And he ran into the kitchen and threw it in the trash. I told him how proud I was of him for being such a big boy and did a little happy dance when he couldn't see. Saturday night he didn't want to go to bed and we both fell asleep on the couch. But he only asked for the binkie once and let it go when I reminded him that it was broken. We'll see how tonight goes. No turning back now, though. It was the only binkie he had, and it's in the trash.

Thanks, Old Man

Normally when I get on the road, freeway or otherwise, I get frustrated when I get stuck behind some old man in a hat going 15 under the speed limit. Today was different. Today I realized that old man is probably doing us all a favor.

Maybe he realizes that he isn't as sharp as he once was and that his reaction time is slower. Perhaps he is aware of how much traffic is different now than when he learned to drive. He probably embraces life more than any of us and has a lot less of it left. He's probably not in a rat race hurry to get anywhere like the rest of us. So he drives slowly and carefully and that's actually better for everyone.

So next time you get behind an elderly person going annoyingly slow when you just HAVE to be somewhere RIGHT NOW don't speed up until you're on their bumper and then zip around them. Do not yell obscenities to yourself (you look crazy) or gripe about "when I get old." Instead, thank that elderly person for recognizing their limitations and let them know you appreciate that they are only going the minimum required legal speed. No, don't say that. You'll get hit with a cane. Seriously though, don't be so quick to anger. If they were going any faster they might actually hurt someone.

Punk teenagers who drive with their legs in the front seat and torso in the back seat while listening to the radio with the bass so loud that it makes their '98 Honda with spinner rims rattle, now they are another story. Pull up your pants.

Not a party for anyone

I was out of town for a few days for seminar which happened to be in Las Vegas. Who doesn't want 4 days in Vegas when work is paying for the seminar that is only 4 hours each day? I'll tell you who. This pregnant lady.

Walking around in 105 degree weather watching your feet swell with every step while staying at a crappy hotel is not fun at all.

The seminar itself was great and I'm really glad I went. Three of my co-workers went as well and it was great to hang out with them outside of work. I was kind of looking forward to sleeping in and relaxing, Brian even encouraged me to get a massage and a pedicure. None of that happened.

The hotel bed was ridiculously uncomfortable and I didn't sleep well all weekend. The air conditioner in my room sounded like a freight train. I had to get up in the morning or I didn't have time to eat before the seminar. The food and the service at the hotel were disgusting so we walked to nearby restaurants. The only place I was willing to walk to for a pedicure was dirty and charged triple what I was willing to pay. And on and on and on.

Plus it's been decided that I am never allowed to go to Vegas without Brian ever again. He gets injured every time I do. This time he broke his hand. Yes, I'm sure that bright orange cast that was put on two days before I left made bath time with a three year old much easier.

Oh, hi.

Update blah blah. I know, I've been absent. I've also been so exhausted that at the end of the day when I have time to blog, after Caleb has gone to bed and Brian has gone to work, after the laundry is done (or at least in the dryer), after the dishes have been washed and the toys picked up, I can barely keep my eyes open. Forget writing complete thoughts for a blog.

So, in the last two weeks what's new? I feel like saying "nothing, what's new with you?" Such a conditioned response. Life is just life, something special or worth sharing with the world doesn't happen everyday. I give bloggers who write every single day a lot of credit. Not only for coming up with a captivating topic but for finding the time.

Most notably over the last two weeks I spent an afternoon in the emergency department. I wouldn't have gone on my own but my doctor thought I should go. I called the office with complaints of chest pressure and pain with deep breaths. She said to come in and wanted to see me. After getting there and describing all my symptoms she sent me to the ED to make sure I didn't have a blood clot in my lung.

I got right in and they ran some tests. The doctor there was reserving the cat scan as a last resort because I'm pregnant but that is really the best way to check for a clot in the lung. All my other tests came back negative so he felt comfortable not doing a CT and sent me home.

I'm actually feeling better, the chest pressure is gone and I can take a deep breath now. I still get very short of breath very easily. I cleaned the house yesterday and it took forever because I had to keep stopping to rest. It's frustrating, and I feel so dumb for going to the ED. To be fair, though, I wouldn't have gone on my own. I only went because my doctor seemed really concerned and told me to go. So, can I bill her for my co-pay?

It's a thing

Worst pregnancy brain day ever. Pregnancy brain is a real thing, I probably use it as an excuse more than is appropriate, but it's real. Let me tell you about yesterday.

Caleb had a birthday party to go to in the morning that was 45 minutes away. I did so many dumb things while trying to get us both ready but was proud of myself for only being 5 minutes late and remembering the present. But Caleb was a disaster half way through and we had to leave.

He fell asleep in the car and I took advantage of the nearest drive-thru Starbucks. I ordered a tall half-caff. Maybe I should have actually said coffee but it took the cashier a minute to realize what I wanted. My fault or his? I don't know, but I felt stupid and frustrated.

We were supposed to take my parents out to Benihana for a late Father's Day dinner. He was really excited about it. But I completely overlooked making a reservation. At 4:30 I tried calling for a same evening reservation. Ha. Not going to happen. But they'll try to seat walk-ins so we went anyway.

Driving to my dad's house I missed the freeway exit. I don't know how many times I've driven there and never missed the exit. There are 7,492 things I could have done next to still get us to my dad's house on time. I did none of them. We were late.

We got to Benihana and, after paying for valet because there are exactly 4 parking spots in the whole lot that aren't assigned, we discovered a 3 hour wait. Of course. I don't know why we even tried. The attendant got my car which was parked for less than 2 minutes and wasn't sympathetic at all. He also didn't get a tip.

After a long evening we all came home and went to bed. I forgot I was on call for work and didn't take my phone to bed with me. I never heard it ring. Seven times I didn't hear it ring. Finally they called Brian's phone which he heard and I got ready in a panic and drove to work at 5am without brushing my teeth.

I'm awesome at this.

I have the time... somewhere...

I've been working a lot, and by that I mean a lot of days, not necessarily a lot of hours or doing a lot of actual work. When patient volume is high we "flex" out and work less hours than our scheduled shift to keep productivity high. I'm already losing hours every Tuesday when I come in late so I can take Caleb to day care/preschool. I actually worked an entire extra day, 8 full hours at one of the clinics, on top of my regularly scheduled 40 at the hospital and still only ended up with 34 hours this week.

I shouldn't complain. My manager is extremely flexible when I need to leave early for a doctor's appointment or when I said "Oh hey, I'll be coming in over an hour late every Tuesday and I can't take call during the week anymore." I don't know where else I'd get that kind of cooperation. It helps that I've been there 7 years, I don't give him a lot of trouble, and I pick up the slack a lot and do extra stuff without extra pay. You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours.

I just feel like going in for an extra day, even though it's not actually extra hours, still feels like over time. It leaves me one day a week to grocery shop, get errands done, and see my family without rushing t get dinner on the table in time. I have to plan out my to-do list so far in advance or I end up trying to cram everything into one day. Caleb has a birthday party to go to tomorrow and I actually had to pull out my planner and schedule a day to buy a gift. The only time slot I could allot was 3 weeks ago. That's insane. At least I won't be running around tomorrow morning 30 minutes before the party, scouring the aisles of Target to find a gift. Except that I don't think I have any birthday wrapping paper. For the sake of my own sanity he might get a present wrapped in snowmen and candy canes.

Are we done yet?

It's been a long couple of days. Our schedules have been crazy since Brian started working the midnight shift and he left Friday morning for his drill weekend in Tucson. Being a single mom for the weekend isn't as bad as when he's gone for two weeks. But it's never easy. Especially when I have a headache 24/7. I went a while without any headaches and I thought that phase (I've been told it's a normal "phase" some women get) of pregnancy was over. Then they came back with a vengeance. I hate taking so much tylenol, I know it really isn't good for me or my liver, but the headaches get debilitating.

Caleb has been so good while I'm curled up on the couch with a pillow on my head. I really couldn't ask for a better kid. We went to the Safari Park this morning and he exceeded my expectations, so well behaved. He deserved a special day after spending nearly 3 days straight with babysitters and at day-care. Then he took a wonderful 4 hour nap. And so did I.

The Fly War

One day last week-ish we came home to find flies in our kitchen. Not 2 or 3 flies as if someone left the back door open. More like 40+ flies having a party we weren't invited to. Brian grabbed the fly swatter and I got the vacuum with the hose attachment.

The next day we came home and there were as many, if not more, again in our kitchen. Where are they coming from!?! We thought we got them all. But to be sure we put up some fly paper (gross) and thought we'd try an old home remedy of sugar water with a funnel in it so they can't get out. Neither worked. We got more flies. You know what works? A 3 year old with a fly swatter who likes to smash things.

It was like they were hatching from somewhere inside the house. Yes. Hatching. I found pupa along and underneath the baseboards in my kitchen and eggs under the dog's water bowl. Turns out that Caleb was playing with a cardboard box in the yard and left it there for a few days. Brian brought it in to recycle it and there were little dots all over it that no one noticed until we went on the hunt for the source of the flies. They got into the water dish and then migrated to the baseboards to morph into flies.

After scrubbing the dog dish and surrounding area with bleach, vacuuming and scrubbing the baseboards and arming my son with a fly swatter in each hand I think we finally won the fly war.

Just Trying To Do The Right Thing

So let me just rant about my vet right now. All I want to do is keep my dog healthy, which to my knowledge has always meant giving him monthly heartworm medicine. I placed an order on 1800PetMeds since he's not due for an actual heartworm test. They responded quickly saying that my vet will not release the prescription to them, the I need to call the vet and have them fax it or mail it. "Some offices require you to pick up a copy of the prescription. If this is the case you should request that it be ready for you when you arrive and you may mail it to us."

I called the vet and asked them to mail it to me since it's pretty inconvenient for me to go there unless I actually need to take my dog in. Thus the use of the online pharmacy. They said sure, no problem.

Two weeks went by and I didn't get anything in the mail. I called and explained the situation. "Sure, let me put you on hold while I get the girl who takes care of that." la la la la "Um actually she's not here. Let me get your phone number and she'll call you back when she gets back." Right. End of the day and, surprise, no phone call.

The NEXT DAY Brian got the mail and there was an envelope from the vet with the script in it. Conveniently postmarked the day before when apparently the girl who does that wasn't there.

All this to find out that you actually don't need to routinely give heartworm medicine in Southern California because we don't really have mosquitoes. Ha.

Pass The Tylenol Please

This pain in my side is killing me. I've had this nagging discomfort for over two weeks in the same spot on my right side. I blew it off because pregnancy is just uncomfortable. But then it turned into pain. After two days Brian finally convinced me to call the doctor. She said it was ligament pain. I told her it felt like a kidney stone. She told me to drink more water and take tylenol.

Unfortunately there is nothing you can do for a pregnant lady with a kidney stone. All the diagnosis and treatment options involve radiation which is not safe. The only thing left to do is wait until it passes. Ouch.

My doctor did a test to make sure I didn't have a UTI, I didn't, and she checked for blood in my urine. None. That combined with the fact that when I saw her yesterday I happened to be feeling a little better drove her to the decision that it was in fact ligament pain.

Today I am laid up on the couch again struggling to find a position that doesn't make my side hurt and then holding as still as I can because moving makes the pain so much worse. Sorry I thought it was a kidney stone, doctor. I've only had 4 of them and didn't know they feel EXACTLY like ligament pain.

ugh.

What Are The Odds?

I wasn't sure I was going to blog about this. I wasn't really sure we were going tell anyone about the stressful issues we've been having with this pregnancy. We just talked to my dad the other day for the first time about anything that could be wrong. But, as a sort of stress therapy, I feel like I need to just get it all out. Here's what we've been dealing with for the past few months.

On top on my already high risk for preeclampsia and pre-term labor my routine 1st trimester blood work came back abnormal. Specifically, it indicated a 1 in 52 chance of having a baby with downs syndrome. So what do you do with that information? You cry, and you wait, and you get your second trimester blood work done.

It came back with a 1 in 15 risk of downs. That pretty much did it for me. I will have a downs syndrome baby. Or will I? The additional part of my blood work was a relatively new test called Maternity 21. It is a very sensitive test for chromosome abnormalities 13, 18, and 21 (which is downs syndrome) and is only offered to moms that are at risk. That test is supposed to be 99.2% accurate and it came back negative. So on the emotional scale I was all over the place. I was offered an amniocentesis to be 100% sure but I declined it. It's just not worth the 1:400 chance of miscarriage for me to be .8% sure. But I did accept the offer for genetic counseling and a high risk detailed ultrasound at The University of California San Diego.

That appointment was on Thursday. The genetic counselor was very nice and spent an hour going over our family histories and talking to us about risks and odds. She actually recalculated our risk for having a baby with downs syndrome at 1:1,050 since the Mat21 was negative. Wow. I felt so much better. Then we had the ultrasound. Baby girl looks absolutely wonderful... except for one little thing.

The tech left and went to get the doctor who explained to us that our peanut has echogenic bowel. Basically her bowel just showed up really bright in the ultrasound. That's an indicator for downs. But it's also an indicator for a few other things. Maybe she swallowed some blood (harmless) early in the pregnancy. But I didn't have any bleeding. Maybe there was an infection that could cross the placenta, but I was never sick. The genetic counselor came back in and recalculated our risk again. 1:350. They offered me the amnio again for peace of mind. Brian and I just looked at each other and knew it wasn't worth it. No.

The doctor made it clear, to put things into perspective, that if my initial blood work had come back with a 1:350 risk they wouldn't offer any further testing, counseling, or amnio because they don't consider that risk high enough. Ok. I feel a little better. But still scared.

It doesn't matter. We love this little girl already, and so what if she has downs syndrome? But what would have caused the abnormal blood work in the first place? Apparently there are trends that show that when certain hormones are elevated (the ones that were high in my labs) you end up with a greater risk for preeclampsia and preterm labor. Which we knew anyway. I guess we just didn't know how high risk I was.

With all this evidence I will be followed closely at the placenta clinic at UCSD to make sure baby girl is growing and getting enough nutrients and oxygen. At any point my placenta could just stop working and she will stop growing. I could go into preterm labor, my already high blood pressure could get completely out of control and put me on bed rest. So many things could still complicate this pregnancy beyond my control. And we still don't know if she will have downs syndrome or not. At this point I don't even care. I don't care if she has low set ears. I don't care if she is short and maybe walks a little funny. If she is healthy and full term I will gladly take her in my arms and love her no matter what her chromosomes say.

Worth Every Penny

I stumbled across a local event over the weekend and I decided Caleb just HAD to go. Touch A Truck sounded like something he would just die over with fire trucks, police cars, military vehicles, fire trucks, dump trucks, fire trucks, garbage trucks, did I say fire trucks? They also had camo face painting applied by Navy SEALs.

As if seeing the trucks up close wasn't enough he got to climb up in them and honk the horns, press buttons, and crawl all over them. He even figured out how to use the real working loud speaker in the police car. He loved shouting garble to the entire crowd at the event.

What's even better? The whole thing was a fundraiser for neuroblastoma and childhood cancer. I cried like a baby (or like a pregnant woman) while reading the story of the boy, Max, who inspired the annual event. He passed away at age 7 and his parents help put on the fundraiser in his name. That's all I'm going to say or I'm going to cry again but you can read all about Max and Touch a Truck and donate if you wish here. 

Caleb had so much fun and I had so much fun watching his excitement and awe at all the big rigs. Definitely something we will do again next year. 

Tylenol Just Doesn't Cut It

I never used to get headaches. Even when my doctors discovered that I had chronic hypertension I didn't have any of the typical symptoms, including headaches. The past year has been one giant stabbing pain through my cranium. Ouch. Now when ever my blood pressure gets really really high, I get a headache. Once it sent me to  urgent care  with a BP of 180/120. 

Since I've been pregnant I've been getting headaches. Now, my blood pressure isn't exactly perfect but it isn't so high that I should be getting debilitating  pains in my grey matter 3-4 times a week. It seriously puts me down. I don't really know what a true migraine feels like but this might be it.

I hope it's just pregnancy and not a brain tumor. I already have one of those.

Don't Judge Me

My Top Ten Favorite Things Right Now subject to change at any time without notice

1. Unsweetened black tea lemonade from Starbucks. This has always been a summer staple for me but I can't see to get enough of it lately. Literally, every time I get in the car I contemplate where the nearest Starbucks is and if I have time to get one.

2. Fruity, chewy candy. Almost any kind will do but the most satisfying are the Target brand tropical flavored gummy snacks and Swedish Fish.

3. My grey cotton shorts. They are so comfortable and light. I get home from work (in scrubs) and the first thing I want to do is put on those shorts. Ah, so much better.

4. Body pillow. It makes all the difference in the world to support my hips and back while my belly expands by the minute. Even if I think I'm comfortable laying in bed I can't get any quality sleep without that thing next to me and intertwined with all my limbs. Sorry, hubby.

5. Butter flavored popcorn from Starbucks. I know it's not fresh and it comes in a tiny bag. But.It's.Delicious.

6. Watching Caleb play. Seriously, this kid is amazing and I can't get over how much he learns and grows every day. He's the best thing about my life.

7. Honey mustard and Ranch dressing. Together. On almost anything.

8. Naps. I can't even explain how good an afternoon nap feels. It doesn't happen often but when it does I am like a whole new person.

9. Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal. I don't care if it's 70% sugar. It's my guilty pleasure.

10. Minesweeper. Yes, the old school computer game. I play on my phone and it's ridiculously addicting.

Baby Ga

I asked Caleb what he thought the baby's name should be. He said, very proudly, "Ga!"

We'll keep an open mind.

Lately this baby has been causing trouble. I don't remember ever feeling this bad the first time around. Sure, being pregnant was no picnic for me but I attributed that mostly to the fact that my husband deployed shortly after we found out and I was going through it all alone. I was healthy, though, and had what I would now consider a very easy pregnancy. I went through the exhausted, low energy phases but it wasn't so bad. It was just me. If I didn't feel like making dinner I didn't. I ate a lot of cereal. I didn't have to take call at work and my shift didn't start until 8:30 am. I slept a lot. My blood pressure was never an issue until week 39, my back and feet never hurt, morning sickness was only in the morning and completely subsided without return by week 11.

No such luck this time. I'm on call two nights a week and my shift, with a 30 minute commute, starts at 6:00am. On my days off my 3 year old wake me up by 6am and I MUST get him breakfast lest he starve. Not cooking dinner is not an option with two hungry boys in the house. Not doing laundry is not an option. Not cleaning the bathrooms is not an option (boys are gross). So when I'm tired, I'm just tired and I have to suck it up. Most days I'd give almost anything for a nap.

I will say the morning sickness was better this time. I haven't actually thrown up. However, here I am at week 15 and eating in general is still a struggle. I'm hungry, oh believe me I'm hungry. But nothing is appetizing. Ever. I rarely want anything that is available and drinking water nauseates me. I just want to want food again. (Said the fat girl who wished she had self control. Karma?)

And lets not get started on my blood pressure. Or, yes, lets. It's been way too high. I've been on medication but it isn't working. My doctor told me to start taking the meds twice a day if I noticed it getting high. I did and it was still really high. High enough to give me debilitating headaches for 5 straight days. I called my Dr, went back in, and she adjusted the dosage again.

I don't know if it's the blood pressure, the lack of sleep, the lack of stable meals or all of it together but I just feel rotten. In general I just never feel well. 15 weeks along and I'm already short of breath after normal activity. Baby Ga better get it together or it's going to be a really long 9 months.

I Enjoy Seeing the Inside of My Eyelids

I'm exhausted. Physically and mentally I'm just done. It all started Thursday night.

I was on call and working the late shift. Thursdays are normally my day off but I traded so I could have Saturday off. I'll get to that. So I'm working late, it's 10:30pm and nothing is going on in the department. I figure I'm on call, I'll just start my call early and go home to get a head start on sleep (I normally work until midnight). I was home just long enough to change my clothes and get comfortable when they called me back in for TWO studies. When I got to work the order times were 10:32 and 10:44. Had the front desk person been paying attention I would have been able to come back in before I even left the parking lot. So by the time I got there one patient had already been admitted and one was being transferred, literally on the paramedic gurney being wheeled out the door. Needless to say I was not happy. I got home and in bed for about 30 minutes before I got called again. I didn't sleep Thursday night.

Friday was Caleb's birthday and I was just too tired to take him to school. It's a 45 minute drive for 2 hours of 13 crazy toddlers and a 45 min drive home. I wasn't up for it. But I did have a gazillion things to do that day to get ready for his party. I didn't get a nap. But it mostly got done. I had intended to do the decorating that night so it would save time in the morning. But I had also had a constant headache since Thursday afternoon and by Friday evening I just couldn't take it and had to go to bed.

Saturday morning I was running behind, decorating, and still had a headache. But Caleb's party/brunch was a success and fun. He had a great time and I hope his friends and our guests did too. They even helped clean up. I don't remember Saturday night. I was just tired and everything was blurry.

Sunday I worked. I over slept from depravity and I was late but I finally felt a little better. Monday (today) I worked a 6 hour shift, with a headache, and then hauled to a 4 hour meeting across town. Four hour meetings are no fun when you have to pee every 20 minutes. Now I'm home and I'm using my very last bit of energy to write this blog. Because I'm certainly not going to clean the house.

No Time For a Seat Cover

I had an ultrasound today. It was a 13 week nuchal translucency test (never mind what that means) so it was important that I have it done today along with some blood work. I got there at 1:30 for my 2:00 appointment thinking I would get the blood work done first and then get home earlier.

I was wrong.

I checked in, she handed me the lab slip and as I turned around to go to the lab the lights went out. The entire building lost power. Great. I walked down to the lab and she drew my blood anyway, just moved the chair over to the window so she could see. Back in the doctor’s office I knew I couldn’t have an ultrasound without electricity but she assured me that the power would be back in soon and they’d get me right in. Again, I knew I couldn’t reschedule so I sat down and wait with my full bladder.

At 2:30 I was really, really ready to pee. I shifted in my chair because my leg started to hurt. Big mistake. Shifting my legs also shifted my bladder and sent extra signals to my brain about how full it was. If bladders could curse mine would have made a sailor blush. Ok, no more shifting.

I sat still. Very still. At 3:00 I was in so much pain I was labor breathing. Sitting in the dark I wonder if some of the other patients might have thought I was really in labor. I thought about asking if I could pee just a little but I didn’t dare get up or I might not be able to sit back down. I was also convinced that as soon as I peed the electricity would come back on and I would be out of luck.

I was nearly in tears. I tried meditating. I tried the power of suggestion, “I do not have to pee. I have held it longer than this before. I am stronger than my bladder.” I closed my eyes and prayed to God that the lights would come back on. I tried distracting myself with games on my phone and watching other people come into the office and trip over chairs in the dark.

Then at 3:30 the lights came on! I almost cried again because I was so happy. But two people went in before me. And I knew judging by the size of the second woman’s belly that this was her anatomy scan and she would be in there for a long time. I couldn’t wait anymore. I got up slowly and painfully to hobble to the bathroom. Walking was unbearable and both bathrooms were in use. While I waited the tech came out and called my name, finally!! She actually let me go to the bathroom before she started. I almost didn’t make it and even after I peed I was still in pain. But she got the test done and I’m pretty sure my skin isn’t yellow anymore.

Uneventful Is Good Sometimes

Life is uneventful lately so...

10 points if you know what movie this is from (one of my favorites) I'd like the apple pie a la mode. But I'd like the pie heated and I don't want the ice cream on top, I want it on the side, and I'd like strawberry instead of vanilla if you have it, if not then no ice cream just whipped cream but only if it's real; if it's out of the can then nothing.

Waitress: Not even the pie?

No, I want the pie, but then not heated.

It's just a fat phase.

My husband innocently asked me this morning if I had a baby bump yet.

I lost it.

Are you kidding me? Have you not noticed the 10 extra pounds I've put on in 4 weeks that magically only appear around my mid-section? Seriously? You can't tell? This tells me one of two things A) he is completely unobservant and hasn't looked at me in a month or B) I just look fat, not pregnant.

The answer is B. I know this because my husband notices everything. He is one of the most observant, detail oriented people I know. Especially if I put on weight. And my weight fluctuates a lot. He's not mean about it, and doesn't even really care because he just loves me anyway. He's great like that. But he notices.

So in his mind when he was just excited about the baby and curious to know if I was showing yet my hormonal brain heard, "Hey, you're fat." And I snapped at him. I was just beginning to feel better about the weight gain, thinking that I actually looked pregnant and not just like a cow with pants that were too tight. Apparently, that's not the case.

I struggled because I gained weight rapidly and started showing early. At first I was confident that it wasn't "baby" because it was too early. I was just gaining weight because I wasn't dieting and my hormones are different. I'm at that awkward phase of pregnancy where maternity clothes are too big and real clothes are too small. I am the woman people whisper about asking "Is she? I can't tell," and they're afraid to ask. Then slowly I became accepting of it as everyone told me that you show earlier with the second one. I started wearing real clothes that made my belly more evident instead of hiding it like I did when I was legitimately fat. But now, now I'm embarrassed that I've been walking around like that and I'm going back to the baggy scrubs and over-sized t-shirts.

Seriously, folks. This is not a 12 week belly. This is fat.

10 weeks

We told our parents.

We got Caleb a shirt that said Only Child Big Brother and went to my dad's for dinner. No one noticed for about an hour until my sister-in-law stared at him for a while and very apprehensively asked "Why does his shirt say big brother? Are you pregnant?!" It was fun and she was proud to be the first to notice.

Brian called his parents that night and they were excited for us and I called my mom the next day who promptly called her sister 30 seconds after hanging up with me. I guess that means she's excited.

More people at work know now but we still aren't really advertising it. If someone asks I tell them but I'm not wearing a sign around my neck and I'm still wearing scrubs loose enough to just make me look fat.

I sent my sisters and best friends a text, which isn't the most ideal way to tell people but actually the most reliable form of communication between those people.

So now that our families know it's not a big deal if other people know too. I can't wait to find out the gender!

9 weeks

I'm feeling much better. Actually, aside of the very first day of nausea and two random days of mild, short term nausea I'm feeling great. Oh, and aside of being fat.

No kidding. I recently lost weight and was finally feeling comfortable again. I bought all new clothes! Then as soon as I found out I was pregnant I quit dieting. Baby needs calories.

Know what else loves calories? My hips and thighs. I gained weight rapidly and none of the new clothes I bought fit anymore. I'm completely uncomfortable again and I'm not even "showing" It's just fat.

I also had to tell my boss today. Which was earlier than I planned on telling anyone at work. Two close friends at work knew but that's all, and I trust them both. I was in a procedure today and had to tell the radiologist. He was cool about it, happy for me and wouldn't tell anyone. The nurse in the room over heard and, even though I told her know one knows yet, she opened her mouth as soon as the next person walked into the room "Hey! Have you heard about Kelly?!"

Neither of those people can keep a secret. I guess it's out. At work anyway. So I figured before the entire department knew I should tell my boss. But my family doesn't know yet and that's a little awkward.

8 weeks

I really thought I might get away without the dreaded morning sickness this time around. I was feeling really good, too good actually. I had zero pregnancy symptoms. No morning sickness, no breast tenderness, nothing. I was convinced something was wrong. I'm irritable but I attribute that to my lack off coffee.

I had an ultrasound and everything is fine, peanut looks great. Then the day I turned 8 weeks BAM! Like a ton of bricks I was nauseated. I woke up and couldn't eat breakfast. I took a shower and had to lie down. I tried to get ready for work and I had to put on my make up in stages because I couldn't stand up long enough without being overwhelmed with nausea.

I went to work with a Vernors on hand and no lunch because the thought of anything made me feel worse. It didn't help. I was assisting a biopsy at work and I really almost threw up. I was standing there with a mask on breathing my own air in a hot room standing watching the procedure. I almost lost it. I was nauseous from 4:30am until noon. Ugh.

That night I put some saltines on my nightstand next to the alarm clock. I remember with Caleb I learned that, for me, the trick to overcoming morning sickness was to eat a couple of crackers in the morning before I even sat up. Then just lay there for 10 more minutes. I know every pregnancy is different but I though it was worth a shot. It worked. I've done that for two days in a row now and feel fine. I don't feel great because I'm exhausted every minute of the day, but I'm not nauseated and I'm able to eat real food, including breakfast.

But the exhaustion? I haven't made it past 9:00pm all week and if I don't keep moving I fall asleep on the couch in the middle of the day. Brian is so understanding and helpful. He just lets me sleep. After all, growing a person is hard work.

Family of 4

I'm writing this before I can post it because I don't want to forget. And I want to share it all with you. If it were public knowledge I would be writing about this baby all the time but until we tell everyone I'll have to keep drafts and you'll have to pretend it's a flashback.

Blink again, it won't help. I said baby. Surprise! Baby #2 is on his/her way! Actually not so much of a surprise. We tried for another baby for almost a year with no luck. I eventually sought out help from my OB/GYN who referred me to an infertility specialist.

It was devastating to me to think that I actually needed infertility treatment. I never thought that would be me. But, because of my PCOS and despite the metformin I take I still don't ovulate. I'm just not able to get pregnant on my own, which is painful to admit. I'm a woman, my job is to repopulate the earth and I can't.

I am not in the business of playing God. I believe that God makes babies, not doctors. So right from the beginning Brian and I decided that we would not do any form of in vitro fertilization. But I also believe that it's my job to take care of the body God gave me and make sure it's working properly. We decided to go ahead with fertility medication to make me ovulate. All this did was get my body and my hormones back in working order and then we still had to get pregnant the old fashioned way. (TMI? I don't care) God still created this little gummy bear inside me.

It was a slow process and the first cycle of medication didn't work. I got impatient as we neared a full year of trying for a baby. The anxiety of every late period and the pain of every negative test started to wear me down. We started talking about adoption thinking that this wasn't going to happen for us, and still I tried to be patient and remind myself that God has His own timing. This is not easy for a person who likes control and thought out plans. I had a plan too! I had to remind myself daily that my plan didn't matter.

But God did have a plan and He has blessed us with our little bean and we couldn't be more excited. So you're going to be blombarded (blog + bombarded, get it?) with baby posts until we catch up to the present state of my gestation. And then it'll ease off. Or not. Pregnant women love to talk about their pregnancies....

This One Time...

I tell bad stories.

Usually I don't know enough details to form complete thoughts, or rather I've forgotten the details. The result is usually a tangled rambling of "Shoot, what was her name? I forget what she bought but... Actually I don't even know why she was there. Maybe it was George" In the end you've got less than half a story with no point and your brain feels like it's had a good go around with a salad spinner.

If that's not the case I have too many details. If I remember everything, I will tell you everything, and then some. It'll take me 12 minutes to tell you I bought Coke on sale because they story will start with my neighbors dog barking at 4am. Trust me, the two are related.

So, really, when I start telling a story just tune out and smile at me every once in a while so I think you're listening. It's probably best this way.

Credit Card Emergency!

I recently used my Victoria's Secret credit card that I hadn't used in a while. I couldn't remember if I opted out of paper statements or not. I didn't want to forget about paying the bill or pay it late so I called the number on the back of the card for the balance.

I got the automated system "Welcome to your Victoria's Secret VIP Angels account. Please tell us how we can help you." I hate these things. I pressed 1 for account information. Then I pressed 1 for balance. I waited. A man answered the phone and the following conversation took place:

Me: Hi I'd like to get my account balance and the due date, please.

Man: Excuse me?

Me: I'd like to get my billing information, balance and due date.

Man: Ma'am, you'll have to call your credit card company for that, this is 9-1-1.

*WHAT*

I apologized profusely and explained that I DID call the number on the back of the card, I was even connected to the credit card company. I pressed 1 and then he picked up.

Actually, I dialed the card number, which ended in 9. Then I dialed the appropriate numbers for my selections 1, and 1. Apparently even if you're already connected and you dial the sequence 9-1-1 your call will be interrupted and a dispatcher will pick up. I bet they hate that.

Adults Need Nutrition Education

I stopped at Subway today between a meeting and my shift at the hospital. The lady in front of me blew my mind.

I noticed her when I walked in the door because the 2 year old she was with was very proud to show me his "chips." They were cheetos. She was clearly the grandma, but still. You're going to give your 2 year old grandson a whole bag of cheetos for lunch? Shut your mouth, Kelly, it's not your kid.

She sat him down in a booth behind the long line with his orange fingers and told him to sit quietly. Has she ever been around a 2 year old before? She turned her back to him to order and never looked back. He, of course, was pacing the booth seat and jumping up and down.

She ordered him the kids meal which is a tiny little 3 inch sub, a snack and a drink. When asked what kind of dressing she said mayo "on both sides of the bread." They globbed the mayo on one side of the sub and the other side with meat, because it was already on the sandwich. "Well, I wanted it on the bread but thats ok." The worker scraped it off and put another glob on the other side of the bread.

When asked if she wanted apple slices or a cookie she couldn't decide so she asked the little boy, who was now at her side jumping up and down. Of course he said cookie. What did you think he was going to say? And chocolate milk to drink.

This is why our kids are fat, America. It's because people like her let 2 year olds have cheetos, chocolate milk, mayo with some bread, and a cookie for lunch.

Now I'm not saying my son's grandparents don't give him cookies every now and then. They're grandparents. And I am not a perfect mother. Maybe that child never gets chocolate milk and this was a special treat. Ok. But then at least get him the apple slices.

She seemed completely oblivious to the choices that she was making and I think that's what frustrated me the most. Maybe it's just her generation, though. My step mom thinks fruit snacks count as a serving a fruit because they are made with real fruit juice, that fried mozzarella sticks are healthy because it's cheese and that's protein, and that baked potato chips are good for you because they don't have any trans-fats.

sigh

More Recent Happenings

Just before Easter my in-laws came into town to visit. They stayed with us for a week. I love my husband's parents, I really do. I couldn't ask for better in-laws. In all the years we were dating they treated me like family and they have always been supportive. But having house guests for a week, no matter who it is, gets a little taxing.

First, the cleaning. I deep cleaned the house before they got here. Things I don't do on a regular basis (but maybe should) like scrub the grout on the counter and shampoo the carpets at 11:00pm. And when they leave, the cleaning. Because after a week with two extra people in the house there are messes in places I forgot about.

Second, it's exhausting. We did something everyday. We went to the zoo, we went to Seaport Village, Easter at my step-brother's house, we went out to dinner, out for ice cream, shopping, and on and on. Plus we were up late every night chatting and playing cards. I still had to work two of those days and I didn't get much sleep.

It really was a lot of fun, though, and Papa spoiled Caleb like crazy. He got so many new toys and more treats and snacks than we normally would have given him. Caleb got to ride a train for the first time, too. We decided to take the trolly to Seaport Village and he had a blast.

It was really nice having them here but at the same time I'm glad to get back to our normal routines and have my house back.