quest for a faerie child

are those track marks legit??

I spent a long day in appt's and then being monitored at L&D because the fluid level is now below 5 (4.2).  The good news is that doodle looks positively perfect on monitoring.  But it looks like the issue is probably his blockage and that it is intensifying.  A peds urologist has to weigh in and could not until around 7am tomorrow morning.  Why, you ask?  Oh, I think it's something having to do with the fact that he's uhm... on vacation and not answering his phone.  And yeah, there's noone else to consult with about the matter. 

Now, one would think "ah, she must live in a remote, rural area."

But no, that is not the case.

I live in a major metropolitan area and am delivering at a world-class hospital.  But apparently, they can't get a damn peds urologist to respond to save a life.  I'm wondering, "what if it had been an emergency??"

Honestly, that instills a great deal of confidence.

Anyway, so... we're returning in the morning to most likely be induced.  The midwives feel this is going to happen.  They left in my saline block because apparently I have the worst veins they've encountered in a long time and it took SIX sticks on both arms by 3 different people before I finally got an IV from an IV therapist.  When I say SIX sticks, what I really mean is that they dug around for an excruciating amount of time in each stick, trying to get past valves in my veins and to find them after they would roll away from them.  I now bear the proud track marks of a smack addict, that are extremely painful and extremely appealing visually.

The good news is that I was showing uterine activity, my cervix is soft and I'm starting to dilate on my own, which could help induction.  Also, while Doodle is early, they are not concerned with his gestational age AND they do not see damage to the kidneys.  However, they want to make sure that no damage occurs and that's probably why I'll end up being induced so that they can get in there and fix his blockage.

So, that's the story as I know it at this time.  Also, I slept for about 4 hours and now have incredible insomnia and can't seem to get back to sleep.  Yes, I know I need it.  Yes, I know I'll wish I'd slept longer, but uhm... I can't help it.  I'm nervous, excited, worn-out and feeling a little bit of pain because of my new life with tracks up and down my arms.

joy is mine...

an unconventional christmas tale

Twas the day after Christmas and all through the house

all creatures were stirring

though, Thank God, not a mouse.

The crib and co-sleeper were put together with care

in the event that St. Doodle soon would be there.

The laundry was nestled all snug in its place

While Kiernen and Moose made haste with their (suit)case.

Ahh.. I can't go on any longer.  I've exhausted my creative juice right there.  How about if I say, "to be continued tomorrow, so long as the ultrasound allows...?" 

how's that for luck?

The Good News:  Ultrasound yesterday shows no secondary damage to the kidneys, bladder or ureters like they once thought.  They see no cysts.  They thought they had on much earlier ultrasounds.  Bladder is not enlarged.  There is obviously some percentage of blockage, but no other damage.  No estimate as to whether it will need to be surgically repaired or not.

The Questionable News:  AFI is now below normal for the first time.  Low normal is 8.5 or so.  Mine is 6.2   I have to go back in a week (next Wednesday) to check fluid level again.  If it's still low or going lower, then they are going to induce.  If so, doodle will make his entrance exactly 1 month earlier and in less than a week.

I can't decide how I feel about that.  On one hand, I'm so done with being pregnant.  On the other, I want him to stay in as long as he needs to.  I also am not thrilled with labor starting off with one huge medical intervention.  I'm worried it will make my resolve to go au naturale a bit difficult.  I'm also excited to see doodle and hold him, but again... don't want him out in the world until he's good to go.  Finally, I don't want him staying inside me if it's going to cause problems.

Ah well...

I've got orders to REST (not bedrest), but I'm not to be the cooking freak that I am and I'm not to be running around shopping (although I've got to still get some things for the doodle in case he makes his appearance a month early).  How could it be that I have to make last minute preparations on Christmas weekend.

How's that for luck?

now that's cause for....

I am reaching that point in my pregnancy where I have realized that my body is not meant to withstand this much longer.  Maybe it's this particular pregnancy.  Maybe it's just my body.  Maybe everyone goes through this and I'm just complaining.  Whatever the case may be, it is, in fact, happening to me and is, in fact, my reality.  And, I am, quite frankly, tired of it.

I've been under more stress than I honestly know what to do with and while I feel as if I'm dealing well with it all emotionally, I fear my body may be suffering, as a result.  I plan to work until I go into labor and yet in the last couple days, I keep finding myself wondering if I'm truly going to be able to do that.  This, in turn, leaves me feeling like somewhat of a failure.  I have all these accusations swirling around inside.  "Maybe if you'd exercised more like you planned to, things would be better."  "Maybe if you hadn't gained so much weight, things would be better."  "Maybe if you relaxed more, things would be better."

I hear all those things in my mind and then wonder who let my mother inside my head, or I wonder when did I become my mother?  I certainly don't want her inside my head or around me, so why do I feel the need to take up her slack and start berating myself?  Habit?

Probably...

The new look on here is due to my downgrading of my subscription as a means of downgrading the financial pull on my life.  I couldn't make myself completely give it up.  So, I downgraded to the cheapest membership.  The downgrading, in general, is a result of a set of unfortunate circumstances that I don't feel like rehashing at the moment.  Suffice it to say those circumstances account for a fair amount of the stress weighing on me these days.

It sounds as if I am entirely depressed, and I truly am not.  I'm somewhat resigned this morning and really not interested in being at work.  My bed and a hotpad are extremely more interesting and inviting.  Alas, the need to conserve sick time is great and so I find myself hobbling into and around work, waiting for the seconds to tick by, so I can hobble back home.

It also sounds as if I am not happy and that's not really the case, either.  I'm happy.  I'm just tired of everything.  We have what I hope is our final ultrasound tomorrow and for some reason I am apprehensive about it.  I'd finally gotten used to the massive amounts of time I spend on the table with the transducer glued to my belly.  But it's been 5 weeks since the last one and who would have known that stretching the time out would actually make me dread the next one even more?  When they're occurring every 2-3 weeks, you don't really have time to think about the next one.  But, when you are granted time off for good behavior and development, you feel even worse.  Or, at least I do.

So, I hope it's the last.  5 more weeks would take us right up to the due date.. I've had my fill of medicine and medical technology at the moment.

Of course, I say that and then I think about a show I was watching on discovery yesterday about a woman pregnant with sextuplets.  Then I start telling myself I'm nothing but a complainer.  I've only got one doodlebug in here.  She had SIX.  I can't even fathom it.  Her belly was as big as mine is now at like 15 weeks.  It boggles the mind.  She made it to 29 weeks.  Now, that's cause for complaining...

wish us luck...

I find myself in a foggy haze these days.  I find myself in a hazy fog of exhaustion mixed with what can only be defined as that dreaded pregnancy brain.  I am unable to track the most basic of tasks and I am only just now starting the 8th month.  I shudder to think what the next two-three months will be like.  I can't even seem to track the fact that I have a blog and that it satisfies me to post on it.  I have no desire to compose my thoughts in any way shape or form.  Perhaps this will settle down.  Perhaps this will settle down before I even give birth.

The doodlebug is doing well.  Last week's ultrasound showed no changes, no progression.  The amniotic fluid level was normal and we've now made it to 28 weeks.  The next goal is 32 weeks.

Wish us luck...

rest for the weary

Feeling somewhat crappy and incredibly exhausted this morning, I decided to stay home.  It wasn't really playing hookie because I did feel pretty dead for most of the day.  However around 1pm, I decided to get off my butt and go check Piccolina and Children's exchange for diaper supplies.  See, I've been complaining for weeks now that I feel so ill prepared, that I am nothing but an underachiever, that I have nothing for the baby save for a few packages of onesies, one package of receiving blankets, a couple newborn hats and some burp cloths.  Every night I awaken with this feeling of stress.  Well, actually...I awaken with the need to pee.  However, once I'm awake, I find my mind inevitably turns to the preparedness topic and I begin to spiral out of control.

So this weekend, I decided to corner one of my best friends and find out just what it was I needed in order to do cloth diapers and how she did it.  Per the wise and wonderful Amber, I ventured out to children's exchange and piccolina in search of diaper wraps of the gently used variety.  I am happy to say I found them, the most expensive of which was 8-10 dollars for a couple wool soakers.  The remainder of them were in the 4-5 dollar range.  I found 14 in good shape.   I also purchased 16 chinese prefolds in newborn for 50 cents each, all of which looked brand spanking new and 6 reusable diaper inserts to double the diapers.

I went to town in the clothes arena and purchased 14 winter sleepers/gowns/fleece onesies type things, the most expensive of which was 4 dollars and all of which were absolutely adorable.

And then I felt satisfied.  I felt a bit more prepared.  I felt like I could have the doodlebug tomorrow and at least have some diapers and clothes for him.

I guess I haven't updated since the last ultrasound.  How bad am I?  I'm sure my silence leads people to believe that things are bad.  However, they are not.  My amniotic fluid level had risen from the very low end of normal to the very middle of normal, which is a very good sign.  Additionally, doodle's bladder was empty which means he is obviously eliminating. 

The perinatalogists smiled.  And it was good.

The doodle defies the odds, they say.  Let's all urge the little doodle to pee his little heart out, shall we?

Thanks.

I have a bundle of images to upload from the last ultrasound, wherein the perinatalogist attempted to get us sweet 3D profile images, but fell somewhat short.  Perhaps, I'll take a moment to do this tomorrow while at work.  However, since I cut my work hours but not my work load, things have been fairly hectic at work in the last couple weeks.

I came home, did a prenatal yoga dvd and am now feeling distinctly sick again.  Sick and tired.  Exhausted, even.  Perhaps we're in a growth spurt?

My little sister, from whom I am estranged, was married this weekend.  That might be causing me a bit of underlying stress, stress I'm refusing to truly acknowledge.  That could be causing my underlying anxiety and exhaustion.  I need to explore this some more, but frankly, I am too exhausted to deal with it at the present time.

I'm also feeling incredibly boring...

life continues on...

I began my reduced hours last week, which has made it a great deal harder for me to blog from work.  Hence, I find myself no longer as prolific as I once was.  Partially, I write best in the early morning and now I am still sleeping at a time when I used to be writing.  This is great for my sleep cycle and not so great for my blog.  Since I am using that time to sleep, I still don't have a great deal of time to write while at home. 

This lack of time could also have something to do with the fact that I am cooking a great deal.  I've been finding recipes to utilize the 7lbs of pears still alive and well in our fridge.  Yesterday's use was gingered pear and cranberry breads.  Today is pear, leeks and gruyere turnovers, which I'm hoping Moose will decide he loves rather than attempting to pick through them.  We're having them for dinner with a salad.  I also have a turkey sausage, wild mushroom and red pepper strata in the fridge, but I think I'll save that to bake for tomorrow for dinner.  I also baked a lowfat banana bread to utilize some negelected bananas and buttermilk that will soon need to go by the wayside.  The banana bread was fabulous and does not seem lowfat in the slightest.  The strata is ala cooking light and lowfat cooking-light style, which usually means not as lowfat as I would like but still fairly healthy. However, sadly... the turnovers are ala epicurious which can usually mean loads of fat and this time it does.

In the doodlebug department, things are going well.  I had a really great post composed earlier in the week which I lost and now I will attempt to just list the facts as I know them.  We went to see the fetal bladder shunt specialist and had a very quick, down and dirty ultrasound to visually check the fluid and bladder.  Fluid level looked adequate/normal and the bladder did not seem enlarged.  Both are incredibly good signs after two weeks with no ultrasound.  This means his condition is either not progressing or progressing very slowly. We found that the shunt is a last resort and carries a hefty risk and that it is not indicated right now.  We also found out that doodle's issue could resolve itself prior to birth. 

Finally, we discussed the fact that I am now pretty much at the point of some level of viability.  Life becomes a waiting game and an odds game:  if things progress, deliver early and fix the problem or place the shunt and hope for full term.  We're hoping to first make it to 28 weeks with little to no progression.  If we make it that far, then 32 and then 37.  So, 5 more weeks to go until 28 and it's already been 3 weeks since they first found the problem.

We speak with the pediatric urologist on Tuesday, who will play a big role in determining whether to deliver early. We have the next huge ultrasound on Wednesay, which I'm looking forward to like I want a hole in the head because I had the fetal ECHO on Friday, which is basically just an ultrasound focused solely on the heart.  After 5 minutes on my back, I almost passed out and had to keep shifting until I was finally on my side. The whole scan suddenly seemed wholely uncomfortable to me and it only lasted about 30 minutes, whereas I know I can pretty much assume the next scan is going to be at least an hour or two in length.

The good news is that doodle's heart is perfect.  There's not a thing to worry about.  He was incredibly active and very very cooperative.  Everytime the tech needed a different view, doodle rolled into the right position and kept punching and kicking away.  So, I'm feeling quite a bit better about his health and well-being at the present time.

I had my first prenatal massage at Rejuvenation on Saturday.  The last massage I had was on Mother's day about a week or two before I found out I was pregnant, but during which I already knew I was.  I think I'm going to do a massage once a month now until birth because it was just too fabulous for words.  I really adore that place anyway.... but it was incredibly wonderful with all my aches and pains.  Although, I gave myself a heart attack when I realized the wonderful herbal tea I'd been gulping down before and after the massage had red raspberry leaf in it.  Gah..

Anyway.... it did not send me into labor, thank god.  And that is the big, not so creative and rather boring update on my life so far....

i dream of twins

Insomnia reigned supreme again last night, whereas the night before I actually ended up getting some sleep.  I wish my body could provide me with adequate sleep on the nights where I work, instead of on the nights where I can just sleep in if I want to.  I'm guessing that's too much to ask for.  Because I did sleep the night before last, I actually had a very long convoluted dream about the doodlebug.  I dreamt that I gave birth to him right now... at 22 weeks and that when he came out, there were two, but they were normal sized babies.  For some reason I felt as if they were cold so I put them back inside me to keep them warm.

However, what's interesting is that everytime I've dreamed of taking the baby out to check on it and putting it back in, I put him in my belly.  This dream, I shoved both babies up the way you would a tampon and then began to realize that may not have been a good idea because I was unclear as to how I was going to get them back out.  I recall realizing that there just might be a reason for the contractions and yanno, uhm... labor.

When they were back inside me, I also realized that I hadn't actually checked to see their little wee-wees.  So, I tried desperately to get them back out and once I did, I found that I had two little girls and not a little boy which confused me entirely.  It confused me because doodlebug's obstruction is supposedly relegated to males only.  So then I began to wonder if there really had been anything wrong with the baby to begin with.

I then proceeded to feed one of them and was horrified after a few minutes to realize I was feeding her with a bottle and yet I wanted to breastfeed, but I hadn't done any reading on breastfeeding so I felt completely unprepared.  I decided to take the bottle away and try the breast, which she took to amazingly and which didn't hurt at all.  I was expecting excruciating agony.  I awakened from this dream as I was attempting to figure out how to feed both babies at once...but couldn't quite manage it.

And even now, a full day later, as I think about this dream I am filled with a sense of confusion and I feel extraodinarily weird about the whole dream.  In fact, it was incredibly real and I am left sometimes thinking that I do have two girls in there and not a boy....

In the meantime, the doodlebug is incredibly active this morning.  He's like a mexican jumping bean, or at least it feels that way.  He was also fairly active last night when I awakened at 130am and could not get back to sleep.

Uhm.. our intruder story was Saturday/Sunday morning.... and not Sunday/Monday, to answer a question posed.  Though, it seems as if I heard of some other vandalism/crime thing which occurred in the general area on Sunday night, as well...

Moose and I baby shopped yesterday for the first time.  It was incredibly interesting and I walked away with about 120 dollars in various utilitarian clothing items.  I tried to do this in a very systematic logical manner, whereas Moose was more about the:  "Let's get an entire pooh outfit for when guests come over." and "look at these little mittens, they rattle!" and "this puppy sleeper is sooo cute!"  We also made some decisions on big ticket items, which I then went home and put on the old registry.  So, I've begun to tackle my underachiever and ill-prepared issues, which makes my capricorn self feel a bit more stable.

Anything we can do to make me feel like I'm on even ground is a good thing these days.

not so intruding intruders

There are times when I get these feelings, a sense of something.  I've always considered myself to be highly intuitive and I've learned over the years to trust in that intuition.  Sometimes it manifests itself as an inherent knowledge of someone before or even minutes after I've met them.  Sometimes it manifests itself in being able to foresee that some event will occur.  I wouldn't really consider it a psychic ability, just something that allows me to deeply read what's going on around me and forecast out in a logical manner what will probably occur.  I have learned it is in those moments when I do not trust that feeling I get inside, that things happen I wish truly wouldn't.  I trust my first sense about people, always.  When I don't, I often find myself burned.

Sometimes this leads to a bit of superstition.  When I sense something and I am tempted to ignore it, I end up at war with myself.

This is the state I was in on Saturday night, when I awakened to voices outside.  It is not uncommon to hear voices out on the street.  We live off Division in inner SE.  There are times when I have awakened to the late night drunken ramblings of individuals walking down Division.  But something about this experience was different.  In the few moments after I first heard the voices, I had a flash of people coming up to the front door and forcing themselves inside.

In pregnancy, I have become paranoid that random odd events will happen and harm myself and the baby.  It grows stronger with each passing week.

I put the thought of intruders out of my mind and tried to settle myself back into sleep.  It could only have been minutes before I heard movement in the front yard.  At first I thought it might be an animal, but it grew closer and it was large and then I heard something under the window.  The head of the bed is against the front window and so, I found myself lifting up to peer through the blinds down onto the figure of a man in a red jacket.  He had been crouching and then stood up.  I saw his arms reach up and heard his hands upon the window when I jumped out of bed.

Moose had fallen asleep on the couch again and all I could think about was getting out of the bedroom as fast as possible.  I threw open the door and called, "Someone's trying to get into the house."

He jumped off the couch and thought I meant through the basement door.  What ensued was a bit of chaos as I attempted to explain while nearly hyperventillating.  In the meantime, I could see somewhat out of the blinds and I saw a second man jump off the roof of the garage to the right of the front window.  I was terrified.  Moose wanted to rip open the door and go get them.  But all I could think about was that vision of people forcing themselves inside.  I begged him to stay inside.

And so we remained that way for a period of time, before Moose refused to stay inside any longer.  He kept trying to explain to me that a) he was not going to be afraid in his own house, b) you needed to show them that you were not afraid, and c) they were probably long gone because my awakening probably scared them away.

It turns out they were gone.  It turns out they were utilizing the garage as a means to get onto the roof of the building beside us in order to tag it.  It turns out they were not evil people trying to force themselves into the house to harm me or the doodlebug or Moose.

It turns out that sometimes my active imagination gets the better of me.  But I ask you, wouldn't you be freaked if you awakened to someone crawling around underneath your window?  I think you would.  I think any sane person would.

In other news, it's my day off today and I ended up riding the scoot to go shopping for something a bit more professional to wear because we have orientation on Friday and none of my pretty work clothes fit me any longer.  It was a bit of an exercise in frustration, although I did find an outfit to wear that I hope makes me look pregnant and not just fat.  I am almost at the point where I cannot ride the scoot any longer.  Not only does it aggravate my pelvis unbelievably, but I find myself often worried about myself and the doodlebug, and the rainy season is beginning here so venturing out at any time could find you in the midst of pouring rain in the midst of the trip.

I managed to avoid the rain but not the pelvic pain.  So, I now find myself hobbling around the house trying to get the two sides of my body to even out while wincing in continual pain.

Ah, the joys of pregnancy....

the untold painful secrets of pregnancy

So, I never did get back to the intruder alert story, did I?  At the moment, I'm in too much pain to contemplate the retelling of that event.  I'm in a really ridiculous amount of pain for something that noone really ever explains to you before you get pregnant.  I mean seriously... how come noone tells you that eventually you are going to feel as if your pelvis is coming apart, or that the two bones will rub together and pull apart until you feel as if you are in an incruciating amount of pain when you shift positions, when you stand, when you walk, when you sit and contemplate quietly, when you do just about anything you could possibly do???

It would seem to me to be a crucial piece of info to distrubte to those of us who are not masochists and who still decide that pregnancy is the way to go.

I don't mean to complain here, but I'm actually getting a little frightened because I am wondering how much worse this is going to get over the next 3-4 months.  I've never really considered myself a pansy in the pain department.  I've endured a great deal of it over the course of my life.  However, somehow, the random oddness of discomfort that arises during pregnancy seems to have gotten my goat. 

Perhaps the next time, I'll be more prepared and less shocked by the whole thing.

Perhaps, I'll be prepared and handle pregnancy like a pro, instead of like a whining baby.  Perhaps pigs will fly and hell will freeze over, too.

My pregnancy and the baby boy were announced at a program meeting today.  I had to catch myself from screeching, "Nooooooo!!" when my director put me on the spot to ask me in front of 30 people if it was ok to let people know what I was having.  First of all, about half of them (at least) probably didn't know I was pregnant, because I couldn't care less whether or not they knew.  Secondly, it's that whole superstitious thing.  "Don't tell anyone.  Things aren't perfect.  Things could go wrong."

That's the nasty voice in my head, whispering those things.  That's the "the other shoe could always drop" voice in the back of my head, the one I try to shove aside, while simultaneously stomping on it.

In the end, though...I went with it.  This should be joyous.  This should be happy.  I should be able to experience happiness at saying, "it's a boy!"  I should experience happiness, especially when His Doodlebugginess is kicking and punching and shifting around like a circus performer on crack.

I owe him that.  I owe Moose that.  I owe myself some happiness and some joy.