Monday, April 30, 2007
It's Official.
None of what we are doing (shots, vitamins, ultrasounds) relates to the monitoring of what happened to us last time. And, not only are we not preventing it from happening again - we are MORE likely to have it happen again. Well, that is f-ing awesome. I don't normally feel so hopeless/helpless. F.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
The Girls.
No. This post is not about my daughters. This post is about my "boobs". (Fear strikes my heart at the idea that my eighth graders *might* have found me yet again. But, shame on them.) Anyway...I was looking back at a quote someone left me on a previous post. This person, "anonymous", was kind enough to mention my once small frame and my very round six month pregnant stomach. The same person queried, "if your stomach is this big now, what will happen in the next few months", or something to that effect. Well, I'll tell you what. Boobs. I keep these girls bound in sports bras, push up bras, too-small-pre-first-pregnancy bras, but all to no avail. They are enormous. They were never terribly small, I'll admit, but at this point they are essentially the size of my head. Nice. (Oh, one other thing that has blossomed over the last month - my butt. My nine year old nephew told me yesterday, "Aunt Catherine, Uncle Bill said your butt is big." Of course, Bill did not say this to nine year old nephew, but nine year old nephew decided to use Bill as his cover. He is sneaky and would have loved nothing more than to see Uncle Bill get "in trouble", but there had to be some inspiration for that particular remark. Maybe it was my abundant hindquarters hovering just below his eye level. Again, nice.)
PS - I am not complaining. I am happy to take the weight. All in the name of keeping BBLSTM safe and happy. :o)
PS - I am not complaining. I am happy to take the weight. All in the name of keeping BBLSTM safe and happy. :o)
April Showers.
This weekend, I am going to another shower. (Last weekend was a bridal shower for a friend of Bill's from high school. Althought it was lovely, and the food was delicious, the best part was Smoothie King afterward with Charlotte. Admittedly, I also enjoyed a little bit being snarky at the actual shower. But, )
Yeah, I am pretty crafty...:o)
Today is Bill's cousin's baby shower. (She is due two weeks after me. :o) I have been working on a gift for her for a few days, and here it is!
Yeah, I am pretty crafty...:o)Sunday, April 22, 2007
Thursday, April 19, 2007
A Bad Day for Grammar, but otherwise...
I got awesome news from two friends today. All the time we all spend praying for babies in tummies seems to have payed off!
A very close friend had a wonderful and reassuring ultrasound, and got to see her new baby for the first time! Yay, Baby Red and Gold!
And, yet another friend found out she is unexpectedly pregnant. She and her husband have suffered through five miscarriages, and were actively, however unsuccessfully, trying not to get pregnant. (They had recently made the decision to adopt through China.) She is remaining pretty aloof, at least on the outside. But, I know she must be beyond nervous.
Both of these ladies can use your prayers. :o) Add them to the list of moms for whom to pray.
Now, here are the straight up imbeciles who need your prayers for intelligence. These are otherwise intelligent and educated people. Here is a conversation I witnessed at work today, between the Music teacher and (get this) the other Language Arts teacher. We'll call them Flanagan and Farley respectively.
Flanagan: "Yes, I think there is no way he should pass sixth grade."
Farley: "I mean, being honest, I think he is working at a fourth grade level."
Flanagan: "I'll be angry if he goes on to the seventh grade. They either need to hold him back, or send him to a special school."
Farley: "I totally agree. But, then he'd have to deal with the stigmatism."
Flanagan: "Oh, true. There is a stigmatism associated with that."
Farley: "But, screw the stigmatism."
Flanagan: "Yeah, screw the stigmatism."
I am sorry. Stigmatism? Did they mean "the property of a lens that is stigmatic" or "the condition of being affected by stigmata"? Wait, again, stigmatism?
One more for good measure. This one is from our principal, a very well-educated man with many years of education under his hiked-up and monogrammed belt. This occurred at a middle school faculty meeting, in the midst of discussion a particular child renown for behavioral issues.
Middle School Teacher: "Well, where do we draw the line? This child rode a desk down the stairway. Didn't a child get suspended last month for stealing a juice box?"
Principal: "Yes, but that was the result of cumulative incidences. With him, there were many incidences. With this student, the incidences seem unrelated."
Wait - "incidences"? "I think you mean incidents," I screamed in my head, as I cringed along with many others. This offense is less egregious, and both of these I normally would let go. But, the repetition and confidence with which they were used triggered my gag reflex. And, is a school really the forum for such butchery of the English Language.
A very close friend had a wonderful and reassuring ultrasound, and got to see her new baby for the first time! Yay, Baby Red and Gold!
And, yet another friend found out she is unexpectedly pregnant. She and her husband have suffered through five miscarriages, and were actively, however unsuccessfully, trying not to get pregnant. (They had recently made the decision to adopt through China.) She is remaining pretty aloof, at least on the outside. But, I know she must be beyond nervous.
Both of these ladies can use your prayers. :o) Add them to the list of moms for whom to pray.
Now, here are the straight up imbeciles who need your prayers for intelligence. These are otherwise intelligent and educated people. Here is a conversation I witnessed at work today, between the Music teacher and (get this) the other Language Arts teacher. We'll call them Flanagan and Farley respectively.
Flanagan: "Yes, I think there is no way he should pass sixth grade."
Farley: "I mean, being honest, I think he is working at a fourth grade level."
Flanagan: "I'll be angry if he goes on to the seventh grade. They either need to hold him back, or send him to a special school."
Farley: "I totally agree. But, then he'd have to deal with the stigmatism."
Flanagan: "Oh, true. There is a stigmatism associated with that."
Farley: "But, screw the stigmatism."
Flanagan: "Yeah, screw the stigmatism."
I am sorry. Stigmatism? Did they mean "the property of a lens that is stigmatic" or "the condition of being affected by stigmata"? Wait, again, stigmatism?
One more for good measure. This one is from our principal, a very well-educated man with many years of education under his hiked-up and monogrammed belt. This occurred at a middle school faculty meeting, in the midst of discussion a particular child renown for behavioral issues.
Middle School Teacher: "Well, where do we draw the line? This child rode a desk down the stairway. Didn't a child get suspended last month for stealing a juice box?"
Principal: "Yes, but that was the result of cumulative incidences. With him, there were many incidences. With this student, the incidences seem unrelated."
Wait - "incidences"? "I think you mean incidents," I screamed in my head, as I cringed along with many others. This offense is less egregious, and both of these I normally would let go. But, the repetition and confidence with which they were used triggered my gag reflex. And, is a school really the forum for such butchery of the English Language.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Ninety-Over-Forty
Well, so sorry for the lack of posts, lately. Things are fine here in prego-land. At least today. Yesterday, I freaked out, sure I was feeling decreased movement. My doctor couldn't see me, so she sent me to the hospital, where they performed a Biophysical profile, and two hours of fetal monitoring. It was a long night of tests, and shuffling from cot to cot. But, in the end, BBLSTM was dubbed just fine. (She spent about twenty minute playing with her big toe, while taking deep, lazy practice breaths. Then, she kicked about 300 times, while the doctors looked at me like I was insane.) So, home I went at about nine PM. That's all I've got for now. Nothing poetic, just further reinforcement that BBLSTM is AOK.
PS - I have been so worried that, due to my anxiety, my blood pressure would shoot through the roof. Try worrying about worry - that's awesome. But, anyway, I guess I can relax about that - my blood pressure was 90/40. I should probably be more concerned about passing out than blowing up.
PS - I have been so worried that, due to my anxiety, my blood pressure would shoot through the roof. Try worrying about worry - that's awesome. But, anyway, I guess I can relax about that - my blood pressure was 90/40. I should probably be more concerned about passing out than blowing up.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Three Issues.
One. So, I have changed the name of my blog, as you know if you are here. The reason? I was found out. My punk middle school kids found my blog, and were beginning to hack into my personal life, in a way that was totally intrusive. Hence, the name change. This buys me a few months before they "find me" again. (If any of you are reading this, yes, I think you are a punk. And, this blog is none of your business. You suck.)
Two. Americans are lazy. As I was lying on my couch watching TV this morning (lazily), I saw a commercial for Dunking Delights, by Keebler. They are just like any other sandwich cookie, but they hit on what I suppose must be the eternal problem - reaching your milk and getting a sufficient dip with your simple, round cookie. The Dunking Delights is simply a stretched version of your typical filled creme snack. And, I thought to myself, "How lazy and self-indulgent can Americans get? Do we really need an elongated cookie to accommodate the problem posed by an excessively tall glass of milk?" To many, the answer is probably, "Yes," when it actually comes to that crucial decision in the cookie aisle. "If I buy Oreos," you may mumble to yourself when presented with this option, "I may be forced to jam my hand into my glass to access my milk. For dipping purposes, I'll go with the Dunking Delights." Hmm.
Three. I am wondering about doctors. After speaking to three doctors in three days, concerning the same issue, I have to wonder. Are doctors the omniscient gurus many of us expect them to be, or are they simply faulted humans, who rely predominantly on presumptions and staggering intuitions?
Exhibit A - Why did you ever become an OB?
First, I called the doctor on call at our wealthy, local hospital. For accuracy's sake (and her privacy), we'll call her "Dr. Snide 'n' Busy", who I should mention I have never met, and with whom I have never spoken. I explained to her my concern, which was what I thought might have been weakened fetal movement, "So, I guess I am wondering -".
She cut me off at the pass, retorting too quickly, "Well, are you getting ten movements in two hours?"
"Yes," I replied, "but, I guess I am wondering -".
"If you are getting ten movements in two hours," said this caring physician as if I was causing her physical pain with my inane and useless concerns, "then you are fine."
"But, if I am used to getting 80, and now -."
"Ten. Now, sweetie don't hesitate to call back if you have any questions." Click.
Exhibit B - Why are you here?
At the behest of my regular OB, who was unable to make my appointment, I met with a new doctor the next day. (We'll him Dr. Tall-with-Firm-Soft-Handshake.) Accompanied by a sweetly smiling, waif-like "physician's assistant in training", he listened to my rattling off of concerns and nodded as I showed him a kick count chart, complete with hundreds of tally marks, descriptions, feelings, sensations, and phrases like "frenzied gyration". Then, adorable assistant approached me with the Doppler. Of course, as soon as she puts the plastic sensor to my belly, BBLSTM fires off ten tremendous, stirrup-shattering full body triple Salchows. The doctor literally leaned over and chuckled in my face, telling me to, "Stop worrying, and to go home". He then asked that, when counting, I look for two strong periods of movement per day. And, if I ever get one like that, to assume baby is okay. O-kay?
Exhibit C - Denied.
The very next day, under the guise of conscientiousness (a.k.a., very thinly-veiled neurosis), I called my high risk doctor. I asked the same questions, "If the movements are weak, at what point is that a problem? When should I come in? It would really make me feel better to have an extra sonogram."
I assumed that scheduling one for this upcoming week would be no problem. But, I realized I was wrong when the scheduler asked me to, "hold on a second."
And, who returns after a few moments of undoubtedly-irritated recapitulation from the scheduler? "Dr. Head Honcho," as he was dubbed by a friend who is "sonogrammed" at the same practice. I repeated my request to him for an extra sonogram, and he simply denied. Just said "no". Then, he proceeded to tell me yet another "standard" formula for counting kicks. "You should get no less than three kicks 30 minutes after a sizeable meal," he said. He then told me "not to worry", and hung up the phone.
In conclusion, I have no real consensus on how to count kicks. I have no faith in these unhelpful doctors and their inconsistent magic barometers for fetal health. And, I officially realized that I am insane. Not certified, but certifiable. Maybe. I guess the only boon of this calling splurge is that I realized all I can do is relax...maybe then I am less insane for it...:o)
Two. Americans are lazy. As I was lying on my couch watching TV this morning (lazily), I saw a commercial for Dunking Delights, by Keebler. They are just like any other sandwich cookie, but they hit on what I suppose must be the eternal problem - reaching your milk and getting a sufficient dip with your simple, round cookie. The Dunking Delights is simply a stretched version of your typical filled creme snack. And, I thought to myself, "How lazy and self-indulgent can Americans get? Do we really need an elongated cookie to accommodate the problem posed by an excessively tall glass of milk?" To many, the answer is probably, "Yes," when it actually comes to that crucial decision in the cookie aisle. "If I buy Oreos," you may mumble to yourself when presented with this option, "I may be forced to jam my hand into my glass to access my milk. For dipping purposes, I'll go with the Dunking Delights." Hmm.
Three. I am wondering about doctors. After speaking to three doctors in three days, concerning the same issue, I have to wonder. Are doctors the omniscient gurus many of us expect them to be, or are they simply faulted humans, who rely predominantly on presumptions and staggering intuitions?
Exhibit A - Why did you ever become an OB?
First, I called the doctor on call at our wealthy, local hospital. For accuracy's sake (and her privacy), we'll call her "Dr. Snide 'n' Busy", who I should mention I have never met, and with whom I have never spoken. I explained to her my concern, which was what I thought might have been weakened fetal movement, "So, I guess I am wondering -".
She cut me off at the pass, retorting too quickly, "Well, are you getting ten movements in two hours?"
"Yes," I replied, "but, I guess I am wondering -".
"If you are getting ten movements in two hours," said this caring physician as if I was causing her physical pain with my inane and useless concerns, "then you are fine."
"But, if I am used to getting 80, and now -."
"Ten. Now, sweetie don't hesitate to call back if you have any questions." Click.
Exhibit B - Why are you here?
At the behest of my regular OB, who was unable to make my appointment, I met with a new doctor the next day. (We'll him Dr. Tall-with-Firm-Soft-Handshake.) Accompanied by a sweetly smiling, waif-like "physician's assistant in training", he listened to my rattling off of concerns and nodded as I showed him a kick count chart, complete with hundreds of tally marks, descriptions, feelings, sensations, and phrases like "frenzied gyration". Then, adorable assistant approached me with the Doppler. Of course, as soon as she puts the plastic sensor to my belly, BBLSTM fires off ten tremendous, stirrup-shattering full body triple Salchows. The doctor literally leaned over and chuckled in my face, telling me to, "Stop worrying, and to go home". He then asked that, when counting, I look for two strong periods of movement per day. And, if I ever get one like that, to assume baby is okay. O-kay?
Exhibit C - Denied.
The very next day, under the guise of conscientiousness (a.k.a., very thinly-veiled neurosis), I called my high risk doctor. I asked the same questions, "If the movements are weak, at what point is that a problem? When should I come in? It would really make me feel better to have an extra sonogram."
I assumed that scheduling one for this upcoming week would be no problem. But, I realized I was wrong when the scheduler asked me to, "hold on a second."
And, who returns after a few moments of undoubtedly-irritated recapitulation from the scheduler? "Dr. Head Honcho," as he was dubbed by a friend who is "sonogrammed" at the same practice. I repeated my request to him for an extra sonogram, and he simply denied. Just said "no". Then, he proceeded to tell me yet another "standard" formula for counting kicks. "You should get no less than three kicks 30 minutes after a sizeable meal," he said. He then told me "not to worry", and hung up the phone.
In conclusion, I have no real consensus on how to count kicks. I have no faith in these unhelpful doctors and their inconsistent magic barometers for fetal health. And, I officially realized that I am insane. Not certified, but certifiable. Maybe. I guess the only boon of this calling splurge is that I realized all I can do is relax...maybe then I am less insane for it...:o)
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
3:37 AM.
Up counting kicks. Giving BBLSTM a chance to wake up before I start my counts. Can't freak out. Just heard Bill. Upstairs. Better go back before caught blogging at middle of night. Nonsensical.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
I see people asking for prayers...
...And, I don't ever want to over-burden people with my own need for help. But, some of you I know are pretty good "prayers". I also know that many of you are praying for Baby-Burgeoning-Lavender-Sea-Turtle-Music often. And, that means a tremendous amount to me. I have only one more request. After a scary day yesterday, I realized we may need your help, too. Please, pray that we have the wisdom to know if something is wrong. Now that we are 28 weeks, there is mounting pressure. Before now, Bayby most likely would not have made it, if delivered. Now, there is a 90% chance survival rate, should she make an early appearance. That means it's up to us to determine if something is not right within. I won't allow myself to fall into hysterics, and I am doing pretty well. All I can ask is that, if something is really wrong, Bill or I will know. I'd rather have her here now than not at all.
I don't want to overfill your proverbial prayer plate. But, it can't hurt to ask...:o)
I don't want to overfill your proverbial prayer plate. But, it can't hurt to ask...:o)
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