Taking Breaths and Playing Games

I think this is probably the longest gap in posts since I started this blog.  It's not that I haven't had things I wanted to get out of my head.  It's more that they seemed like just singular thoughts here and there.  There wasn't enough to make a whole paragraph let alone three or four.

I'm very near the end of my pregnancy.  I'm breathing a little easier thanks to a few days off work before being induced on Monday.  That's just 4 days!  I'm having a baby in 4 days!  Well, if his highness would like to grace us with his arrival prior to that, it would certainly be most welcome.  The problem is that he seems to love his woom and figures he'll stay there until kindergarten.  He isn't overdue yet; he's just over big.

I am doing things around the house in short spurts.  I don't have enough energy to do a lot for an extended period of time.  So, with the down time, I'm obsessing with online games.  I'm not a big 'gamer'.  I love the little simple ones.  My current addiction is Candy Crush Saga on King.com.   I play it on mobile and Facebook.  It is like visual crack.  When I get started, I just can't seem to stop.

I'm also reading more.  I recently started the Anita Blake vampire hunter series.  They are short, easy reads. I'm on book 6 in less than 3 weeks.

I continue to watch VH1 every morning in hopes of seeing my favorite video.  There are actually a couple of really good songs on pop radio right now, in my opinion.  Many times, seeing the vids for the songs makes me hear them in a whole new way.  FUN. is a great example for that.  I really like their music and the videos add a whole other dimension.  My current absolute fave is Thrift Shop.  It is completely silly and makes me laugh.  In case you need a laugh to start your day, here ya go.  *The VH1 version is cleaned up.  This one is NOT.*

The Audacity of a Title *explicit language*

I am furious.  I don't know what else to call it. 

Today, I had my regular follow-up OB appointment.  Recall that I go to a High Risk OB group.  I have seen the midwife most of my visits, but as I'm nearing delivery and she doesn't deliver, I thought I should branch out and see more of the physicians.  The one I was scheduled to see today, let's call her Incompetent, I had only seen once before.  That particular visit, I waited an hour and 40 minutes and she blamed it on the new computer system.

Today, I waited for 2 hours.  No one warned me upon check-in that there was such a delay or any delay at all.  When I humorously asked at 1 hour 15 minutes if they'd forgotten me, I was just told they were running behind.  Oh, I'm sorry.  You're running behind?  What about the roomful of patients waiting to see you?  We are now running behind as well and are stuck. 

When Incompetent finally managed to see me, she blamed the wait on her being the only physician there today.  She definitely wasn't taking extra time with anyone based on her, "Let me listen to the baby and measure you, then you can get out of here" statement.  I had concerns today that I wanted addressed.  I was completely bullshitted.

As lamented in my previous post, I have severe Restless Leg Syndrome.  I have it always.  It is not a pregnancy condition.  It is a neurological diagnosis.  I told her I was completely exhausted because I can't sleep.  I told her why.  I told her the OTC recommendations weren't working.  I was almost in tears.  This was my response...

Incompetent suggested I see their new counselor about getting an anti-depressant.  (I certainly would if I were depressed.  That's not what's being discussed here.)  Next, she suggested I wear ankle weights to bed.  That's right.  I'm supposed to put 2-5lb weights on each ankle and let them hang off the edge of the bed.  Weighing my legs down might stop the jerking.  Are you fucking kidding me? 

I can handle someone telling me they don't know an answer.  I can handle that there just may not be anything I can do right now.  I cannot handle patronizing virtual head petting telling me I'm "almost there" and this complete horses' assery of medical advice.  That fancy M.D. behind your name does not mean you can spew forth complete bullshit and it be accepted.

In addition to all of this, she didn't even bother to check my cervix after the weekend visit at the hospital due to contractions.  I have a call into the Service Excellence department over their office.  I thought about it for a couple of hours before I called.  I didn't want to overreact.  I have come to the conclusion that I am not. 

A Collection

Before you get all excited about Jersey cows or miniature pigs, no, it's not that kind of collection.

I haven't written often in a few months.  I didn't want to bore people with my tales of pregnancy and baby.  I actually pay attention and love that I have readers all over the world.  If you're so inclined, please shoot me a  message and tell me if you have a topic you'd like to see here.

For today, it's a collection of thoughts from the only things I know.  Let's talk sleep.  I can't really talk about sleep as I have had so very little the past three months.  It is getting more and more difficult to feel even a little rested.  I have the typical ailments of late pregnancy.  I'm physically uncomfortable and it takes a lot to get to a decent position.  I have to pee every 45 mins to an hour.  I have the nasal congestion which is causing me to snore horribly.  Then, there are my restless legs.  Those are not unusual for pregnancy either, but I have it all the time and pregnancy is exacerbating it in the worst kind of way.

I first had symptoms when I was pregnant with Olivia.  They faded after she was born for a while.  I honestly don't remember when they came back with a vengeance.  Boy, did they, though!  I went through every dosage of Requip, the standard medicine prescribed, with little relief.  I remember when Olivia was nearing the end of her life and we were in bed all the time.  Her nurses would comment on my amazing jerking legs.  Once, I was in the ED with a migraine and my sister said they should be called something stronger like 'volcanic'.  If you aren't familiar with Restless Leg Syndrome, then I am so thrilled for you.  It's a neuromuscular condition in which your legs take on a life of their own.  Symptoms vary between people and so does timing.  Some only get it when they go to bed.  I do that, but if I'm sitting around relaxing or watching a movie or on a long car ride, it can occur.  A few years ago, when I drove with a friend to the Florida Keys, I remember them being so bad that I had bruises on my knees from them hitting the dashboard in the van.  Shortly after that, I was put on a different medicine that controlled them really well and I almost never had symptoms.

In pregnancy, none of those meds are allowed.  I have been dealing with this sleep-stealing beast for 8 months.  As soon as I get close to being able to doze, the tingling starts.  I can handle that.  Then, the burning comes.  It's like there is a hot poker being trailed up and down my legs, particularly my calves.  Then, the jerking.  Sometimes, the legs jerk without any thought control.  Others, I have to move them to try to get relief.  The only real relief I get is if Kelly massages them or a hot bath.  I don't mean warm.  I mean nearly scalding hot to cover my legs.  I don't cover all of me.  I know that's not safe either.  For some reason, the heat stops the torture.  There are times I wish I could sleep in that water because I think I actually could.

Last night was the worst night of the pregnancy.  I was so tired when I got home from work.  All I wanted was to lie down.  I did.  Then, about 30 minutes later, it started.  Kelly rubbed my legs for about 30 minutes and I was drifting off.  Next, the vicious jerks returned.  Around 2 am, I headed for the bath.  I lay in there for about half an hour.  Kelly also came and massaged them in the water.  When I got out, I cried when I lay back down.  I was so exhausted that I couldn't stop the tears.

Sometime before 3:30 am, I dropped into a less than refreshing sleep.  I was up again after 5 to go to the bathroom.  Then, I was up for good by 8.

Luckily, today is my day off.  I've had breakfast.  I'm watching VH1 and snuggled on my sofa.  It's another hideously rainy day here in NC.  If God and the Universe allow, I hope a nap is in my future.

The Impending Pain of Labor and Its Current Mental Portion

I'm sitting here on the sofa after returning from our first childbirth class.  Emory has the hiccups and is apparently trying to swat them away.

Time is drawing near for him to make his grand entrance into this complicated world.  I am thrilled and have now reached the point where I'm afraid as well.

Why, you may ask, would I take a class since I've already given birth?  There are a few reasons.  First, my husband has never had children.  Second, it's been 13 years (minus 28 days) since I did.  Next, my labor with Olivia was not great.  Finally, it just seems like a good idea.

When I had Olivia, my water broke first.  It's not the norm, I hear.  Supposedly, only about 12% of women start labor that way.  Then, my contractions weren't regular, so they gave me Pitocin.  It's a synthetic version of a natural hormone that catapulted me into hard labor with no warm up period.  It's common to get an epidural for pain relief with Pit.  Our class instructor told us so tonight.  I tried one with Olivia.  It was almost as horrific as the eventual natural labor and delivery I endured.  For some reason, as we saw again when I needed a lumbar puncture last year, getting at that space in my spine is a challenge for physicians.  So, I went through the pain of that with Olivia, then the damn thing didn't work.  My goal this time is to have a better handle on natural pain management techniques.  If they don't work, so be it, but I wasn't nearly prepared enough last time.

I am truly afraid.  I don't need platitudes of  "You can do it!",  "Your body was meant for this!", or "Don't worry!"  You know what? I know I can do it.  I did it.  That doesn't mean it didn't hurt more than words can possibly describe.  Yes, our bodies are meant for it and women have been doing it for thousands of years.  That still doesn't mean it won't hurt.  I assure you, the first person to tell me not to worry will be punched in the throat.  Don't worry, you'll recover.

I'll go back now to focusing on these little acrobatics in my belly.  Except for the sharp jabs, they mostly make me smile.

Body Art

It's been a while since my last post.  I wanted to avoid all of the political and election drama.  I'm glad it's over.  I also wanted to find something else other than pregnancy to write about.  I will, but not tonight.

Today, I went to a Baby Belly Bazaar.

It was loads of fun!  I went with my friend Kristen, who is a doula.  There was a lot of activity and information.  I honestly thought I wouldn't learn much.  I mean, I HAVE given birth before, you know?  There were several groups of midwives and practitioners represented from places other than where I go for prenatal care.  I actually did get some new knowledge.  I also received a little pampering.  I do not have a beautiful pregnant belly, but you're gonna see it.

First, I was on display getting a henna tattoo on my bump.  This stuff is cool!  Those are tiny hand prints on the left...one slightly larger representing my husband and me.  There are tiny footprints on the right for the baby.  There are also two Ks.

Next, I had a photo taken by a professional photographer for $5.  Not too shabby.  Then, it was onto investigating the booths while waiting for my massage time slot.  Yes, a 15 minute, free prenatal massage.  The lady had these wedges so I could lie on my belly side without any pressure on the baby.  It felt soooo amazing!

I skipped the belly casting.  I mean, it would be cool, but it was in the wide open and I didn't want my boobs  on display.  There were a lot of people there and some men included.  A newspaper photographer took my pic getting the tattoo.  That was enough exposure.

After that, I let an artist do a painting on my big ol' belly.  This may be the coolest thing I've ever done.

    
I saw a lot of painted bellies today, but I think mine was by far the best.  She just kept going with the details!

If you're pregnant and you haven't done anything fun to celebrate your growing body, I highly recommend something like this.  I don't feel beautiful on a regular basis, but I felt it today.

AMA

One of the docs at my MFM center is an interesting little man.  Dr. G., who is not a medical examiner, always introduces himself as if I haven't seen him 5 times already.  At the 13-week ultrasound, he reminded me I'm old.  He was discussing the risks for Down Syndrome and other age-related baby issues.  He said something like, "I'm not too worried.  You're young.  Well, you're sort of young."

Today, we had our regularly scheduled anatomy scan.  Baby boy Emory is 19 weeks now, so there was more to see.  I've had 5 medically ordered ultrasounds now, plus the one where I modeled for physicians and one by a friend who's an U/S tech.  Everything looked great today.  Emory continues to be extremely busy.  He also hangs out like his dad...arm stretched across his head.

Dr. G came in after reviewing the scan.  He said everything is great, no need to worry.  Then, he said I should do another in 6 weeks.  It seems that since I'm old, I also have old blood vessels and they need to watch those.  Really?  I'm 38.   I'm not Sarah of the Bible.  I'm sure her blood vessels didn't look great, either.

I have this lovely diagnosis added to my list of asthma, high-risk pregnancy, migraine, etc.  There's one called Advanced Maternal Age.  Fabulous!

Shhhh!

Static

This is probably the longest lapse since I started this blog.  I have so many thoughts racing through my nog on any given day.  It's like a pinball machine in there!

My cat is a regular landing spot for the thought ball bouncing around.  The fact that she mews loudly and regularly could have something to do with that.  When I got her from my friend Jill, she said, "I think she's going to have a lot to tell you."  Well, it's been nine months and the damn cat talks more than ever.  If an animal can be spoiled, then she is.  She quietens right down when one of us picks her up and cuddles her.  Maybe, just maybe, she was a warm up to the baby I'm growing.

The baby is probably the most frequent hit for the ball o' thought.  I think about the baby constantly.  I rub my growing belly consciously and unconsciously.  I look at my ultrasound photos so often, if I were an artist, then I could draw them from memory.

There are other, darker thoughts in there.  Those are ones I keep to myself mostly.  I have fears and worries.  Some of those are completely out of my control.  Others are ones I could change if I worked at it.  Regardless, I struggle to keep those at bay because I don't want that negativity surrounding my baby.  See, he's still tops on the list.

Food is the final thought.  I think about it when I wake up and as I go to sleep.  In those 18 or so hours in between, I'm fighting nausea, still, to the point that actually eating is a challenge.  I long for the good days of pregnancy when food is a treat again.

I'm heading to those thoughts of medium rare filet mignon now.  The cat is stretched across both my feet and will loudly object to my movement.  Goodnight, my friends.

Swinging

No.  I'm not talking about sex games tonight.

I've had horrendous morning sickness that lasts all freaking day.  I have had the sore boobs.  I didn't think I'd been all that moody, though.

Tonight, it was such a big swing and so noticeable, I stepped away from Pinterest to write about it.

I had an ok day.  I was super nauseous, but I held it down.  I managed to drink a little and eat three bites of a blueberry muffin and a few slices of apple.  I paid a surprise visit to my dear friend, Julie.  I'm never in her area and I was, so I took advantage.

I headed off to find a milkshake and then home.  I became distracted, which happens even more often now.  I went to Target.  I had a bad wave of dinner time sickness and barely made it out.  In the check out line, I picked up a prepaid $100 gift card by accident.  If I weren't so constipated with this pregnancy, I'd have crapped my pants when I saw my total.  Luckily, I figured it out and remedied the situation.

I made it home.  I got out a delectable orange Popsicle and settled in for some preseason NFL.  Even if I don't care about either team, it's football and that makes me happy.   I'd been sitting here a few minutes when I turned around and saw something.  It was my Popsicle!  Well, it was actually orange mush by this point.  I played some of my fave games online, then I went over to Pinterest.  I don't even know what set me off.  Between the ridiculous political ads on tv and some quotes on there, I went from content to wanting to cry my eyeballs out.

I chose not to cry.  It's not going to do a thing.  So, I came here.  I hope to one day be a published author.  For now, I write because it makes me feel better.  I'm not on the verge of tears anymore.

The Thrill, Truly, of Morning Sickness

I thought it was a bug since it hit at 2pm yesterday.  I felt bad all day and stayed in bed, but the hurling came at 2.  I slept off and on, having crazy bizarre dreams until 8:30 this morning.  I woke up still feeling 'off'.  I just had my second round of hurling and I think I can safely say that morning sickness is in full swing.

I am thrilled about that.  I know that most of you are thinking, "What??"  For women who get pregnant easily, have healthy babies and no children to die, pregnancy is different.  I envy you.  I have tried to be positive ever since I got the positive on the blood test.  It's really hard!  I worry that I will lose this one, too.

I  had nausea and some dry heaving with Olivia and the last pregnancy.  I had some nausea and heaves earlier in this one for one day.  These early weeks when you don't feel a baby move or see the big belly, everything is questionable.  Were my breasts bigger just because of extra fluid?  Was I extra tired because I was working so much?  Then, when those symptoms disappear for a bit, the big worry comes.

I feel better this morning than I have in days.  I welcome a daily hurl if that's what it takes to let me know the little one is still growing strong before I feel him or her.  Those of you around me, maybe not.

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly: Pregnancy

I have been quiet here for a while.  There is a lot going on in my little nook of the world.  I've hesitated being public about the biggest thing because I have unnatural fears of jinx.

After some of the most horrible losses on the Earth, I am cautiously, wildly excited to be pregnant again.  Some precious few knew this was in the works.  Some more chosen knew when it occurred.  Then, I spilled the beans by accident about a week ago.  I figure it's time to just put it out there.

If my body, science, God and the universe allow, then little baby Sanders will arrive late next Winter.  I realized tonight when my husband was laughing at the pregnant woman farts that it was time to be real.

Pregnant women fart.  It's not pretty and if they take fish oil like I do, it's not sweet either.  My body is changing so incredibly quick this time.  The girls have decided they need to be more noticeable.  I've also developed the unnatural ability to float an armada of Spanish galleons if necessary due to hideous amounts of excess fluid.  I am so damn tired that when I wake up, I'm wondering when I can nap.  I had forgot the depth of this exhaustion.  As a couple of people have *kindly* pointed out, I'm older this time so it's probably worse because of that.  Olivia's dad says, "well it's been 10 years".  No, dumb ass, it's been 13 since I was pregnant with YOUR daughter.

The fact that I openly called him a dumb ass brings me to the biggest Ugly of pregnancy:  the moodiness.  Some days, I'm so crabby I can't stand myself.  Sometimes, I don't recognize it until I've snapped at someone.  If you're one of them, I wholeheartedly and deeply apologize.

I've seen my little peanut once.  I'll see her again in 9 days.  For some reason, saying "him" sounds wrong.  Only time will tell if I'm crazy on that one.  So, keep your fingers crossed, prayers going, and wishes coming that this little tadpole stays just where it is for another 30-33 weeks and grows into a healthy, strong, smallish baby.  I'd rather not push out a 9 lb-er. 

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