30 Week Ultrasound

I went in for a second ultrasound today. It wasn't in my plans to have more than one when we became pregnant. Bryn's mom is a speech-language pathologist and according to her research there may be concern that those ultrasound waves could damage developing eardrums and ear bones. I have to repeat myself frequently around Alex... it's either too many ultrasounds (my OB was nuts for them) or she's too busy being her. I'm hoping it's the latter.

We had the first ultrasound and I've shared the pictures here; however, there was concern that I had placenta previa. My placenta was very close to my cervix earlier on and they wanted to make sure that it had moved with my growing uterus.

It did!

I didn't realize how scared I was until Tracy, the tech, told me that my placenta was 2 cm from my cervix and I nearly started crying. Bryn had to be at work, so I had Boo with me. I nearly grabbed her and squeezed her - I refrained (that wand pressing down is decent resistance. I think Tracy works out), but Alex could tell I had been scared. She asked what was wrong and I explained what I had been scared of and Alex just curled up in her chair looking scared. Tracy and I soothed her and explained that we were there to make sure that everything was okay. And we showed her on the screen where the placenta is and where my cervix is and Tracy measured it for her - and we were all relieved.

Bryn was upset he couldn't be there with me, and I told Tracy as much. She got out a different wand and looked for the baby's face. We gave Bryn the 3-D pictures of his son's face. He gushed all over them. He'll scan them and post them to his Facebook wall soon and then I'll steal them and post them to the blog.

Scary day turned into a very good day.

Update:

How the Study Actually Went...

I started my day by needing to pee every few hours all night. Since I wasn't allowed to drink, I felt dehydrated and tired. It was very hard to not have something to drink; brushing my teeth helped with the gross mouth feeling for about an hour.

So, first thing that had to happen when I arrived was to strip down and put on the Johnny coat. I had to be weighed. Then the nurse subtracted the weight of the Johnny coat: .2kg. I am so glad I peed before I got on the scale. That reminds me that I need to convert the kg to lb so I know how much I weigh today... Not sure why I care so much. I think I'm still thinking about my job last summer. I fell in love with my weight-loss progress and the kettlebell. The idea of working with a kettlebell right now just hurts...

Okay, so I was weighed and measured and my blood pressure was taken. Then the nice nurse, Rachel, started my IV. I hate needles in my veins in ways you can't quite understand (really long, amusing story for another time). I apologized to Rachel and stared at the wall and out the window and talked to anyone walking in instead of engaging with her. She understood. And then took two vials of blood. The adhesive and the lidocaine made my arm stiff and itchy. 

I was moved to a stretcher and wheeled in to have sonograms done. First, the doctor checked my heart, then he attached three sticky sensors and checked my heart from a different angle. Then he looked at the veins in my right arm (as my left was full of IV). Then he looked at the veins in the back of my right knee.

More blood was taken and then I was given some dye. The IV flush smells like cheap vodka; the dye smells like high school art class - and I was the only one who could smell it. The human body is so fascinating. 

My blood pressure got taken while I was lying down, then I was helped up to sitting and it was taken again. I had been lying on my side long enough that my pelvis hurt while I was sitting up. I actually felt the front separating when I sat up. 

After I was sitting up and they had my baseline sitting pressure I was asked to breathe out for 20 seconds into a gauge and make sure the pressure remained between 50 and 55 - what the numbers mean, I have no idea. I was asked to do this, then remain quiet until the pressure was back to normal, three times. The baby had been wiggling and dancing through most of the tests and blood draws; he didn't seem to like the exhaling exercise. I was finally wheeled back to my room and fed.

I scarfed down the cereal and the mini muffins. I drank a pint of ice water and 4 oz of cranberry juice. I ate a huge banana. People were trying to talk to me and get me to sign stuff... I apologized and talked with my mouth full and got milk on some paperwork. Every woman in the room completely understood. I had been fasting for ten and a half hours. I only had half an hour before I was made to lie down and rest before my MRI. 

I watched the end of Overboard lying on my side and kind of dozing off. Then I got wheeled all the way down to the Radiation department. I'm a bit of a control freak. I drive everywhere. Lying on my side and trying to relax while being wheeled down labyrinthine hallways and seven stories was a little difficult. 

The guys down at the Radiation Department were really sweet. I got foam earplugs and then they put headphones on me and asked what kind of music I liked. I asked for classical, figuring it would be soothing and help me be calm. If I ever have to do something like this again, I'm going to ask for stuff I know all the words to - at least I'd have lyrics to distract me. 

So I got put on the gurney, and since RD is usually pretty cool, they put a blanket on me. Then a cage-like thing got put on my head - which with the headphones on meant I couldn't move my head. And then I got slid into the tube. I had been handed a call button and I clutched it to my chest under the blanket. 

There were several scans. I was brought down at about 11:35 and was wheeled out at 12:30. For the last few scans I was starting to panic. The back of my head hurt where it was on the gurney, but I didn't want to move it (and barely could because of the cage) and screw up the imaging. I was getting really hot with the blanket on me; it felt like it was creeping up and bunching at my neck, just below the  cage. My hips hurt. Being as pregnant as I am, I'm not supposed to lie on my back, but my head had to be positioned as though I were. The strain on my abdomen was getting to me. I would obsess about one uncomfortable thing until I was toying with the call button and then I would think of something else that was uncomfortable. I managed to fix the blanket situation and I wriggled my hips a bit. I waited for a pause in the banging noises to move my head a bit, but it didn't help. Then I thought, "At least I don't have to pee," and instantly had to pee. I had the call button in my hand and was figuring out where to press on it when I was told they were coming to get me. I'm not claustrophobic, but I was glad I could close my eyes and escape. 

I got wheeled back upstairs and was thanked for my participation and released into the wild. 

I agreed to have my placenta sent from Porter to Fletcher Allen for the study. I'm not having any luck finding someone to encapsulate it for me, so it may as well go to the study. I have also agreed to put my MRI into a database for other researchers. 

I've been pretty beat all day. Between the fasting, dehydration, and the blood draws I think I'm a bit wiped out.  Bryn tried to treat me with Misery Love Co. for dinner, but I was too tired to eat. I just didn't feel right. I wasn't unwell; I just wasn't well. I ate about five bites and had to give up. Even the fries didn't cheer me.

I promised the dirty details of the testing, and I have delivered. I have eaten ice cream and drunk lemonade. Maybe some sleep will finally do me some good. 

The Study

I mentioned the pre-eclampsia study that I'm involved with before. To recap: since my mother was hypertensive by the time she was my age, I am an eligible candidate for the study. They gave me as many ovulation detectors and pregnancy tests as I could possibly use. Once I was pregnant, I recorded everything I ate for three days (including weights and volumes, if I salted it or it had ice in it), peed in a jug for 24 hours and went to the hospital for a few hours of tests. They drew a lot of blood, injected a lot of saline and some dye, did several ultrasounds on veins and kidneys, and made me exercise to exhaustion.

They sent me food to eat for the second trimester, but I came down with a terrible cold and felt like hell and begged off. Since the tests are time sensitive, I couldn't make it up once I felt better.

I started eating their food Monday night for my third trimester tests. I recorded everything I ate all day Monday, up until my Monday dinner. I ate their prepackaged food and was still starving. So I ate more food and wrote it on my list. They are studying preeclampsia, which is tied to diabetes and hypertension, so the sodium, sugar, and potassium levels are very strictly proportioned.

Yesterday I was gone in the middle of the day and didn't get home until nearly 9. I was starving, because I hadn't brought any of my food with me, except snacks that could handle not being refrigerated. I had a lot of food waiting for me when I got home... I ate the broccoli and tried to eat the macaroni and cheese, but there was entirely too much spinach in it. All the meals are "healthful" and terribly bland. Except the breakfast cereals and the mac and cheese. The mac and cheese would be awesome if it didn't have so much wilted, limp, gross spinach baked into it. I ate a huge salad and the broccoli, you'd think they could forgo the spinach. Or at least cut back by half. It literally comprises half the content. And I hate spinach.

So the food is bland and there is nothing I can do about it. I have started collecting urine again. I cannot swallow the prenatal vitamins they gave me. I cheated a bit on the first day of food... I hope they still want me and are willing to compensate me for my time.

My goal, when I started was to save all the compensation money and pay for diaper service. But that was last September. Money issues have changed and I may need to pay the electric bill with my compensation. I didn't get any money for the second trimester, since I was sick. I bought a bra and a belly band with the money I received for the first trimester. It's expensive being well-endowed. Damned comfy bra, though.

Tomorrow, I will have been fasting since midnight. I will fast through getting showered, dressed, and on the bus to the hospital for 8:30am. They will collect more urine and blood and run a few more tests and then they will feed me. It will not be enough. I ate my breakfast and my morning snack in one sitting this morning. Two hours ago. I'm seriously thinking about lunch. It's appropriate, time-wise, but it's only been two hours since breakfast. (Have I mentioned that I love summer vacation and sleeping in?)

Bryn has promised me lunch at Misery Loves Co. Big Red - where ever it is. And I have requested that if the weather permits, we head to the lake for a swim. Bryn plans on going hiking with Boo in the morning while I'm at the hospital and they'll pick me up on the quest for the MLC truck.

This time, I'll let you know how the testing went. Seriously.

Baby Stuff

The last post was really light on baby stuff. I'm going to try to make it right with this post.

Today was my glucose test. With any luck, good results will be returned to us on Monday. I failed the one hour with Alex - but passed the three hour; so I'm a little nervous. I ate a good breakfast of tea, eggs, and toast - no jam, juice, honey, or sugar, so I actually felt nearly human when I arrived at the office. The blood draw went scary. The first nurse checked both my arms and called in the other nurse. The second nurse got one good vial and then I just stopped flowing halfway through the second vial. Hopefully, they have enough for the tests they want to run. 

On the 25th I got my hemoglobin tested and it was 12.4 - my goal was 11, so my iron levels seem to be good. I am producing about two pounds of blood this trimester, so I need all the iron I can get. It also ups my clotting factor...

Twenty-nine weeks today. 

My appointments will be every two weeks from now on - and I've scheduled all of them! I'm getting scared. 

The baby is moving like crazy. I get to watch him move. He can stomp on my bladder and elbow my lungs at the same time. He has woken me from a sound sleep. Bryn giggles every time the baby wiggles under his hand. Alex has only felt it once. There is something about her hand that just calms the baby right down. 

I mentioned a box from a friend a while ago - more clothes and diapers have arrived. My sister-in-law sent over a few boxes - and there are a lot of woolly knitted things. Then a friend sent over more clothes and diapers. Seriously, I am ecstatic! I don't think I'm going to need any more newborn diapers. I have more clothes than the little booger could wear before he outgrows them. Now all I have to do is wash them, organize them, and figure out where the heck to put them. The apartment is looking kind of small but a lot of that is camping stuff, baby stuff in bins, and bags full of Alex's stuffed toys. Once the lice scare is over, the toys will go back to her room. The baby stuff needs to find a home. The camping stuff needs to find a home. The rest of the place needs to be cleaned up. 

I've wanted comfort foods lately. Pierogis. Mac and cheese. Graham crackers. Chocolate. Ice cream. Warm and creamy is the ideal, but ice cream is the exception. And I want a lot of ice cream. All the time. 

I've registered Alex for a Big Sibling class. They will tour the maternity ward at Fletcher Allen, learn to diaper and swaddle, and they are going to make birth day cards for the new baby in their family. 

Bryn and I still need to register for birthing class. Insurance will pay for the 10 hour long class, it will not pay for the 5 hour refresher... The one weekend long class is the weekend before I'm due. The other option is five Wednesdays in a row (or Tuesdays or Thursdays, etc...). This is not going to work out well. Bryn and I need to go to Canada for a week in July. No matter which course we register for, we will miss one class because we'll be out of the country. We're also going to need a babysitter for Alex. I'm starting to wonder if I really need to do this... I know I do. I just hate that nothing has been easy lately. 

Nothing ever is though, is it?

Long Week After the Long Weekend

The long weekend made this past week a lot longer...
My mom asked if I could help her out this past week. She'd had a rough couple of weeks/months, so I offered to go help her settle back into her old house and begged off of my first week of my internship.
The weather was appalling. I had the ex-husband drop off the kiddo at my mom's house and Bryn drove her home with him after dropping me off on Tuesday.
Mom and I have always been pretty close. We get along well. We have the same taste in most things. We're both cuddlers and love Brit Night on PBS and ice cream. I have lived with her as an adult and we're okay with that. From what I understand, this is rare. I am grateful that we get on together so well.
Bryn and the kid got home safe, if slowly. Torrential downpours, gusting winds, hail, and a tornado were reported that afternoon all over Vermont. The ex's car was getting hit with enough hail that the kid asked if they could just go back. Once she got to my mom's house she insisted that my mother call my cell phone to make sure we were okay. She was scared to get back into the car with Bryn for the next leg of the trip. Poor booger. It's about 4 hours in one direction between my ex-husband's place and my place. My folks would just do the trip in one shot and it was 5 hours. At least my ex and I have agreed to share the trip. At the meeting place she gets to get out and run around.
We sent Bryn and the kid on their way and Mom and I had a pizza while watching The Vicar of Dibly on VHS. Bryn calls it the Dicar of Vibly...
The next day I got a call from the school nurse. Alex went to her because her head was really itchy. Patient Zero had head lice nits. And I am two hours away. Without a car.
Can we please have a round of applause for my husband - Slayer of Nits, Washer of ALL Things, Scrubber of Child, and all around super Papa?
We were broke. Last month was really bad money-wise. Stuff for killing head lice is expensive; let's not discuss the cost of the special little comb. Between the money that had to be shelled out and the amount of labor that had to go into his Wednesday afternoon, he was a little freaked out. Then he actually received the kid off the bus.
No, she didn't have to go straight home immediately. He spent his afternoon researching head lice and how to kill them. Then he went to the natural food store and bought neem oil and tea tree oil to mix with olive oil to treat her head. The little comb - $8. The letter the nurse sent home with Al requested that the empty box from the over the counter chemical stuff be attached and returned with the child upon her return to school. He'd already paid an exorbitant sum on the all natural stuff and "I will not put that chemical crap on my kid!" - he was so frustrated; I could hear the tears in his throat. ("my kid" - have I mentioned how lucky I am to have him, lately?) I called the nurse on his behalf. She was very sweet. Apparently, the form is verbatim from the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) website. It's just a recommendation; follow your conscience - but document it. She completely understood not wanting to cover the kid in chemical pesticides - both of her daughters have had head lice.
Bryn had Al help him clean her room. I'd been on her about it for weeks, but I'm a bad mom and have instilled no fear in her. Between stripping her bed, bagging her soft toys, and vacuuming the two of them were busy enough. Then they actually needed to treat her head.
While she sat with the oil on her head, she read and he replaced the tire on her bicycle. Another expense he was upset about... She had a bicycling field trip the next day (that Bryn was chaperoning), and her front tire wouldn't hold air. The store was out of the basic tires in the right size, so he had to get a self-patching one. Those buggers are expensive.
Thank goodness we had lots of quarters for laundry. Bryn and Alex had a lot of fun on the field trip the next day. It was a rough 24 hours, but they made it.

I had been on the phone with the financial aid office when the nurse called. I received a letter last week saying that I was no longer eligible for financial aid because I had failed a course, which meant that I had not successfully completed 75% of my attempted courses nor maintained a 3.00 GPA. That was news to me. I checked my grades online and had a cumulative GPA of 3.66 and had completed four out of five of my courses.
I had the financial aid office review my account. The girl on the phone may as well have said, "Whoopsie." My financial aid is intact. I just got the confirmation letter in the mail.
However, I had already contacted my advisor because I needed her help in writing up a plan for my future in order to appeal the original decision. I had to reschedule that meeting.
I also had to reschedule my midwife appointment. I was supposed to have my glucose test. Both the meeting with the advisor and the midwife appointment have been moved to this coming Friday. I'm so tired just thinking about Friday.
Speaking of tired - I've been napping. I love naps. I think I need a nap every day. I feel so rested after just a little nap.

So I helped Mom for a few day while Bryn held down the fort at home. Then Mom brought me back and spent a few days with us. Al got to spend the night at the ECHO with her Daisy troop. They sold enough cookies to cover the cost for all the girls. I'm so proud of them. The afternoon after we picked up Al, she had a birthday party to go to - at the local skatepark. She was the only girl there, aside from two older cousins. Al was brave and eventually had a lot of fun. She would do anything for her crush - and that includes spending 75 minutes with 12 boys. Her crush, in return, packed a goody bag specifically for her - she got girly stuff, including lip gloss. *wink-wink-nudge-nudge*?

I'm supposed to write about the baby in this blog, aren't I?
I slept in the memory foam bed at my mom's house. I actually woke up face down one morning. The baby barely moved all day.
Ed arrived on my doorstep with two bags and a bin full of clothes for the new baby. His wife had sorted all the clothes and sent him with nothing but stuff for newborn to six month old boys. I now have 25 newborn sized prefolds and six covers and tons of clothes. I'm not sure we need to buy any baby clothes at all. I'm so grateful I could cry. But I'm also frustrated because I have no idea where to put all this stuff.

My butt hurts. I'm going to stop typing now. This past week was really long. This week is Alex's last week of school. There is so much going on. I'll write about it later.

Let's Over Do It!

I love long weekends when Boo is with her dad. That sentence makes me feel really guilty, but it's honest and a good preface for the rest of this post.

I am a night person. I loved working in the theatre. It loved the people and the work, but the hours were fantastic. I will happily stay up until 2 or 3 in the morning. I have to push it to make 5 or 6, so working 3rd shift never worked for me. Getting up before 9 is like torture for me, even if I go to bed at the stupid early time of midnight. Seriously, not a morning person. Being an English major is right up my alley. All the classes are in the afternoon and I can work in peace and quiet after the kid is in bed. It just makes getting her up and out the door a pain in the butt.

For the last two nights I have stayed up late and slept in. It has been glorious. I love being in my comfy bed with the sunlight streaming through the window. It's decadent, I tell you.

Bryn and I finally got our acts in gear at about 3 and went down to the garden and plotted and tilled and sowed. I made little cards for each type of crop and planted the beans and peas. Bryn helped me with the corn. I just couldn't bend over and do it myself. He had to pick me up off the ground when I had been working on the little signs. The baby feels really low and really heavy. It's hard to believe I still have about three months left...

Bryn decided we needed to go when I started getting woozy. I was a little unsteady on my feet, but I blamed the hills and trying not to mess them up. I had a terrible headache and had already drunk all the water we brought with us. I felt very sorry for Bryn; he had sweat dripping off his face and I'd had most of the water. Bryn brought me home, had me sit in the comfy chair, and brought me water while he made supper. I have a wonderful husband.

That reminds me: Every now and again I look at him and say, "We're married!" and he smiles and nods and hopes no one heard me. It is a little weird, but I'm just so happy to have him for my husband. Occasionally, it just wells up inside and I have to tell him how happy I am. But to the casual observer, it's probably pretty weird. Me and my big belly. He and I have been together for seven years and engaged for two. But we've only been married for three months. And I adore him. Seven years into this relationship and I am still blissfully happy most of the time. We have our moments, but they are few and far between (and mostly it's me being overly emotional - I blame the hormones). I can't imagine my life without him.

Speaking of over doing things and being emotional: Last weekend, Bryn went backpacking with his friends. I hated every minute he was gone. I hate being alone with Alex. I second guess everything I do with her. I am the sole caretaker when he isn't here and I get scared that something awful is going to happen. I can handle it on my own, but it's easier when we can talk to each other and lean on each other. Bryn leaves us alone and she gets a tummy ache, every time. The one thing I can't cope with. So of course, I'm up all night worrying about her tummy and hearing things that aren't there. Listening for her running to the bathroom. Listening for her not making it to the bathroom. And all I hear is the upstairs neighbor playing bocce ball in the living room.

So, I drove Bryn and a friend up to the trailhead last weekend and while driving up the mountain road, I hit a chipmunk. I freaked the hell out. I started crying so hard that I had to stop the car - in the middle of the road. Then I realized how stupid my crying was and started laughing hard enough that I still couldn't drive. And I waffled back and forth between crying and laughing until I finally calmed down. I drove about 20 feet and freaked out again, "What if it was a mommy and has babies in a nest?!?!" and had to slam on the brakes again. Eventually, I got them to the trailhead. I was still sobbing and Bryn's friend Ed practically dragged me out of the car and I wound up the center of a group hug. It was terribly embarrassing, but sweet.

Ed is a nice guy. He and his wife have three kids. Until recently, I only knew his wife pregnant or nursing. I told her that my Christmas present to her this year was that I was pregnant so she didn't have to be. She gave me the hugest hug I got over the holidays. All that said, Ed gets the pregnancy hormones better than most of the men I know. Bryn had no idea what to do with me, other than to let the giggle-tears run their course. Ed managed to nip it in the bud so I could get on with my day. Yes, it was embarrassing, but it was over... Until they headed up the trail and I started missing Bryn and started crying all over again.

Last weekend was pretty long. This weekend is long and will be much better. It has been better already. This weekend I slept in twice, ate Peruvian beef heart on a stick, had a Rookie rootbeer float, watched a fire juggler, ate outside twice, and if we include Friday afternoon, I had a milkshake and a strawberry ice cream cone. The garden is about a third of the way done and it's supposed to rain tomorrow so we can stay in and tidy-up. My mom is coming next weekend.

27 Weeks

I am now in my third trimester. I got an email from one of the parenting sites I joined telling me that the baby is now the size of a rutabaga. I could tell Bryn that the baby was about 14 inches long or 2 pounds, but when I told him about the rutabaga I actually got a half-hearted, "Cool."

Today I had my second WIC appointment. Iron is 12.4! My goal was 11, so I'm pretty proud of myself. I've gained an appropriate amount of weight. I met my WIC sponsored lactation peer counselor. I got to tell my peer and my worker (and the shadowing student dietitian) all about Alex's birth and nursing and the mastitis that turned into an abscess. I got information about birthing classes and a class for older siblings. My insurance will pay for the 10 hours of birth class, which is a huge load off my mind. All my knowledge is 7 years old and rusty and the $140 price tag was a little scary. Bryn thinks we can swing the sibling class.

I was bad today. I was downtown for the WIC appointment and there was some time before the bus so I stopped at the scoop shop... I had a caramel machiato. It's a milkshake with made with B&J caramel cup and coffee coffee buzz buzz ice cream. Not only did I have a milkshake for lunch - it had espresso beans in it. I bounced off the walls for a while. As I was coming down I got a mad craving for strawberry ice cream. So I got an ice cream cone.

I want bad things. With Alex I craved ceasar salads - genuine ceasar salads. Raw eggs and anchovies were the worst parts of the salad. Now I want burgers, beer, ice cream, gin and tonics, cookies, espresso drinks, iced tea, things swimming in melted butter...

I think the caffeine is well and truly wearing off now. I'm really tired.  I'll write again this weekend when I'm not so beat.