No More Complications, Please!

This morning I had my 30 week OB appointment.

I went to my appointment by myself like I usually do. There’s no point in B missing work to come to a 15 minute appointment where I pee on a stick, have my vitals taken, get my belly measured and the doc listens to the heartbeat. I literally spend more time in the waiting room than I do with the doctor.

My pee looked good, I have no idea what my weight was (I get on the scale backwards. I really don’t want to know) my blood pressure was 120/72. The doc measured my belly at 33 weeks. Oh. Em. Gee. I was a GINORMOUS baby and B was a good sized baby even being born 2 weeks early. 

Then the doctor put the doppler on to listen to Nugg’s heart. Nugget is usually pretty active in the morning and today was no exception. He was moving all over the place and the doctor was having trouble getting his heartbeat for more than a few seconds at a time. When he did get it, there were skips and irregularities in Nugget’s heartbeat. Doc immediately said he wanted an ultrasound asap to check Nugg’s heart and growth.

I was trying really hard not to freak out and desperately wishing Brian was there. Thankfully there was an open slot right after my appointment and I pretty much went right back for the ultrasound.

Nugget’s heart was strong and steady the entire time. Thank goodness!  Doc thinks it was a fluke due to Nuggs moving around, but will keep monitoring just in case. 

U/S also showed Nugget is only about a week ahead of schedule and I have lots of fluid that’s making me measure big. I may even get to have this baby naturally around the time he’s due. Here’s hoping… 12/12/12 would seriously be the most bad ass birthday, ever!

Ultimately the appointment went well, for which I am extremely thankful.

But I think I’m going to bring a friend with me from now on. Just in case.

Complications

Last week I went to have my labs drawn for the gestational diabetes test.

Totally standard for 28 weeks.

Seriously, that stuff is beyond disgusting. I’ve only ever had the orange flavor when going through testing for PCOS.

I didn’t even have to drink The Juice.

I failed by two flipping points. 

It was a fasting test. I honestly wonder if I had been able to take my meds for the insulin resistance issues I would have passed. 

I now have a diagnosis of gestational diabetes.

Today I had my GD (gestational diabetes, not The Other GD) info class. Where I learned I will be poking myself and testing my blood sugar four times a day.  I don’t have issues with needles, but I would definitely prefer NOT to stab myself multiple times a day.

But at 29 weeks, I only have to do this for the next 11 weeks. Holy shiz. Nugget will likely be here in 11 weeks or less. Oh. Em. Gee. 

I will do anything and everything in my power to provide the best and healthiest environment for my son.

Even if it means keeping track of every morsel I eat. Even on Thanksgiving.

I may or may not have drooled a little bit…

Even though B has a 2 day +/- on Nugget being here on Thanksgiving. He just better be here by Christmas!

Embarr-ass-ing

We all have embarrassing moments.

Like pray for the ground to open up and swallow us whole embarrassing moments.

My most embarrassing moment is thanks to my father.

Although, when B stepped on the train to my dress on our wedding day as we were walking out of the church and almost exposed my chesticles to both our families and God is a  very close second.

My sophomore year of high school I had a mad crush on my friend’s older brother’s best friend. You still follow? That was slightly confusing to write… 

He was older. He went to a different school. He had a license AND a car.

And he asked me to Winter Formal. Oh. Em. Gee!

We had a fabulous time. So fabulous that I was pretty sure there was going to be A Kiss at the end of the night.

BF’s bro’s BFF (Wait, do guys even *have* bffs?) got me home right at curfew and we were standing in a private corner of the living room making small talk and trying to feel each other out on how exactly we wanted to say goodnight. 

The living room shares a wall with the family room.

Where my father was dozing on the couch.

The couch that was directly on the other side of the wall.

Two feet away from where I was agonizing over whether or not I was going to get a goodnight kiss.

Juuuuust as he leaned in for the kiss my dad decided that it was time to get off the couch.

And that he needed a little extra oomph due to his exhausted state.

He farted.

LOUDLY.

It get’s better…

I jerked back in the Oh snap! Please, Lord, let the ground open up and swallow me whole kind of way.

We looked at each other silently asking did that just really happen?!

Then I saw it.

The green, noxious fumes that came rolling around the corner and into the living room.

Hand to gawd. That actually happened.

The guy got one whiff and said goodbye as he was rushing out the door. To fresh air…

Don’t worry, Dad. I’m pretty sure it’s safe to say I won’t be going on a second date. Job well done.

 

 

What about you? What’s your most embarrassing moment?

 

Pregnancy Guilt

Is it wrong to feel guilty about being pregnant when so many friends in real life and the infertility community on twitter are struggling to get and stay pregnant?

Each couple’s infertility story and journey is different and unique to them.

Comparatively, our journey could be a lot different.

I stopped taking birth control pills shortly after our first anniversary summer of 2010. We weren’t trying, but we weren’t not trying either.

Then I missed my period.

Holy crap!

The pregnancy test was negative.

No big deal, my body just needs time to adjust. I’d been on the pill for about 5 years to help with extreme cramping and really heavy periods.

My period never came.

I took pregnancy tests every few weeks on the off chance that I was somehow pregnant. Always trying to prepare myself to see the one line but hoping to see those two lines saying I was pregnant.

B knew that something was going on, but I took great lengths to hide all the pregnancy tests and tried not to show him how scared I was that I would never be able to give him the kids he wanted. In the back of my mind I didn’t want him to regret marrying someone who couldn’t make him a Dad.  Tampon boxes are the perfect hiding place. 

By November I still hadn’t had a period. I scheduled an appointment to see my doctor and have all the tests done.

Thanksgiving weekend 2010, the bottom fell out of my world. My parents separated. The family unit I had known my entire life was changing. A few days later I was diagnosed with PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome) and was told the chances of my getting pregnant without significant medical intervention were slim to none.  And two days after that I turned 25. Happy freaking birthday to me.

Telling Brian I wasn’t going to be able to have children was far and away the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. I don’t know if it was the wine or the hours and hours of crying but I felt like absolute ca-ca the next morning. Emotional hangover mixed with wine hangover- no bueno!

I started meds for the treatment of the pcos and prenatal vitamins for the other symptoms I was experiencing. (Acne, hair loss, facial hair, bumpy and brittle finger nails) I wanted to punch the pharmacy tech who congratulated me on my pregnancy and need for prenatals. Jackhole.

After several months of missed periods and then periods that lasted 2+ weeks my family doctor sent me to a fertility specialist. After looking at my temperature charts and being monitored by the specialist, she wanted me to start taking Clomid December of 2011 and go from there. After failed Clomid cycles I wanted to hold off on doing another until we figured out how and if B’s new epilepsy meds were going to affect  his fertility. I didn’t see the point in spending time, money, energy and heartache until we knew for sure something else wasn’t going on.

After taking the Clomid I had 2 regular periods. I was really excited that my body was actually starting to function in the way it was supposed to, but cautiously optimistic. I didn’t want to get my hopes up on to have my heart broken. Again.

My period was due 10th-20th of March if things were going to keep going regularly, but it never came.

I finally decided to take a pregnancy test April 7th, 2012 just to see what was going on.

Holy shit, it was positive. As were the next 6 tests I took. 

I was pregnant.

I’ve only had minor complications, right at and just after viability.

 

Getting pregnant definitely wasn’t wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am easy.  But it wasn’t failed fertility treatment after failed fertility treatment after miscarriage after miscarriage, or (so far) dealt with serious complications to me or Nugget.

For that, I feel guilty. It’s not fair that I’m pregnant and will have a baby after 2 years at 27 years old. There are TONS of women who have tried for 2, 6, 8 times longer.

I definitely don’t wish away this miracle pregnancy. I  feel guilty for feeling guilty. But I feel guilty all the same.

I just wish I could wave a magic wand and take away the heartache and financial and emotional cost of infertility and give everyone who wanted it a happy, healthy, uncomplicated pregnancy.

Infertility just sucks a big one.

 

 

Please feel free to comment but note that these are my genuine thoughts and feelings- word vomit or not. Please be kind. 

 

Focusing on the Positive

*There’s definitely some pregnancy/baby talk and a belly pic in this post.*

I’ve been feeling pretty down lately.

I still have the icks and I haven’t been released to go back to work.

The doc won’t let me go back to work until I’m non-symptomatic. I’m definitely still symptomatic. What  26 week pregnant woman has to take anti-diarrhea meds instead of stool softeners. I mean really. 

No work means I’m spending lots and lots of time at home doing a whole lot of nothing. I would love to do things, but my energy level is seriously lacking and I don’t want to potentially expose a whole lot of people to this GI invader. I can’t think of anyone I would wish this upon.  And let’s face it, I can’t stray too far from the bathroom. 

Needless to say, I’ve been feeling pretty crappy. Haha, I’m so punny. 

Today I read a post  from Courtney reminding me to be thankful. That there is always a bright side. I’ve never met Courtney, but the optimism and hope she has blows. me. away.  

I was inspired.

Despite being off work (with no PTO or vacation time) for almost a month and being cooped up in the house there is no denying there are good things going on.

Nugget is doing fabulous. He’s continuing to grow, thrive and measure ahead of schedule despite my being ill and losing 26lbs.

He’s moving, shaking and tumbling a whole heck of a lot. I can actually watch my stomach jump and pop out when I poke at it. It’s the weirdest thing ever to watch Nugget roll from one side of my stomach to the other. It’s awesome but weird.

I haven’t been able to work, but I have been able to have some coffee dates and spend some time with my Dad.  I’ve been able to get Nugget’s room painted, furniture assembled and room mostly set up with the help of Hubs and his parents. I really wish I had before and after pictures of the nursery. The previous owners must have let their kids paint the room. Speckles and splatters ALL over the ceiling and floor boards. And FYI, red takes THREE coats of primer to cover…

I haven’t been able to get comfortable or stay asleep at night (or get out of bed easily) but I haven’t had to get up at the butt crack of dawn to go to work.

And? I don’t have to put on a bra if I don’t wanna! 

Sure, I’d love to go back to work and earn a paycheck, but I really don’t have all that much to complain about.

Here’s the most recent belly pic.

26 weeks 5 days

Adios, August!

I’ve not been a fan of August this year.

Of course there are my Mom’s and sister’s birthdays to celebrate as definite highlights. We won’t mention my parents’ anniversary.

 

Side note- I cannot believe my baby sister is seventeen years old. Especially since I’m just shy of 10 years older than her. Cheese and rice that makes me feel old.

The beginning of August I got sick. Like 12 straight hours of puking and abdominal pain. This was the first time I had actually thrown up during this pregnancy. Definitely wasn’t the first time I felt like puking, though. I went to the ER per the on call doctor’s advice and was admitted (For the first time in my life) for suspected appendicitis. 36 hours later and no sign of my appendix on ultrasound or MRI it was decided my appendix was not infected and I had ligament stretching.

Ligament stretching my ass. That was unlike any ligament stretching I’ve ever felt. Ligament stretching has never lasted for more than a few seconds and doesn’t hurt THAT badly! Thank you, Mr. Doctor, sir. 

I got to go home after a night in the hospital and all was well.

For 2.5 weeks when I started having…’gastrointestinal issues’ and running a fever. B headed out, with my blessing, to hang out with the softball team and give their sponsor the trophy they won. I felt like crap on a cracker and texted B asking him to come home. B said he was getting his tab and would be on his way as soon as he could.

I guess I didn’t ask him to come home soon enough. I remember going to the bathroom and walking down the hall back to the living room and starting to feel dizzy. My poor husband walked in the door to find his wife passed out on the floor. I couldn’t make myself move. I couldn’t catch my breath. Stomach cramps like nothing I’d ever felt before.

My second ER visit and hospitalization in 2.5 weeks. At least labor is going to be covered. I’ve definitely met my deductible.

Nugget and I were admitted to the ante partum unit due to severe dehydration and continued tummy troubles. Let me tell you, those nurses and doctors took excellent care of us. Fluids were encouraged and pushed brought every hour and not one person seemed pissed (haha) at having to help me to the bathroom all the time. I wasn’t allowed to go on my own in case I passed out again.  Nugget’s heartbeat was checked every 4 hours and I spent at least 30 minutes on the monitor 2 times a day. My uterus was angry that it was dehydrated and gave me a few warning contractions but no actual, labor contractions.  Thank God! 

Thankfully B and our families were extremely understanding. The bathroom was huge and extremely echo-y. NOT what someone with a musical ass wants to deal with.

Day 3 of our stay the nurse came in the room and told me there was finally a diagnosis. Campylobacter jejuni. The nurse asked if I’d been camping recently and I straight up laughed in her face. I do NOT do nature. Ew. Since I haven’t been camping, drank contaminated water or unpasteurized milk or gone swimming, I must have gotten that organism that decided to make my insides home from some kind of food, probably under cooked meat. And I haven’t eaten meat since…

Can we say EW!!!!!

Day 4 I was able to maintain fluid myself and got to go home! To my own bathroom. And shower. And bed. *Insert contented sigh here*

A week later I’m still trying to kick this invader out of my system.  Had a follow up appointment with my OB today and Nugget looks fabulous. His heart rate is right in the 150s and he’s measuring at 28 weeks despite the fact that I lost 12 lbs in the 2 weeks of the icks and am 25 weeks pregnant. 

Here’s hoping that September is a lot more low key, I spent more time at home and work and Nugget stays put for a while longer!

 

25 week bumpage

 

Note To Self

Always, always, ALWAYS wear sunscreen to an all day softball tournament.
Even if it is a rainy, crappy, cold day.

PS- Peeling hairline is not attractive.

It’s A…

 

 

 

So I’m not very good at this sharing information in a timely matter thing.

In the last post I wrote about the upcoming ultrasound appt where we would find out the gender of  this little Nugget.

 

I don’t know if it was just the tech I had that was tease or if that’s how it’s done. The tech asked if we wanted to know the gender as soon as we walked in the room, squirted the gel on my stomach and started taking measurements. Asks again if we want to know the gender because she can see it. We again say yes.

And she continues to take measurements.

Then she shows us this.

It’s a TURTLE!

I wish someone else would have been there. I started to cry and B started fist pumping. Like Jersey Shore fist pumping.

Oy.

Now we just need to come up with and agree on a name.

Because there is absolutely no way I am naming my son Brian Jr and calling him BJ. Putting his twig and berries on the internets is cruel enough. 

 

 

 

Definitely Rockin It.

I’ve been thinking about this post for a while. The undeniable joy on this little girl’s face was the push I needed.

As The Appointment to find out the gender of this baby gets closer and closer, there’s the inevitable question of if I want a boy or a girl. My completely honest and genuine answer is I don’t care. The next thing people say is it really doesn’t matter as long as the baby is healthy.

I don’t exactly agree.

I don’t care. Period.

While I would love and hope to have a healthy baby, if I didn’t I would be okay with it.

Maybe not right away and I would shed some tears over it.

But at the end of the day I have my child.

The one I wasn’t supposed to get pregnant with.

Boy. Girl. Blind. Deaf. Third arm coming out of their forehead.

Doesn’t matter.

At the end of the day I have my miracle and that’s ALL that matters.

 

 

 

 

19 weeks 2 days

Turtle vs Taco

4/9/12 4 weeks 2 days. Two days after I found out I was pregnant. Please pardon my extremely dirty bathroom mirror.

6/15/12 14 weeks 2 days I need to learn to make better faces in self portraits…or learn to crop.

6/20/12 15 weeks And we have bumpage!

7/2/12 16 weeks 5 days I really need to branch out in doing my hair. If Nugget is a girl the poor thing is in a world of trouble.

Today marks 18 weeks and 2 days pregnant. I officially cannot see my feet. Not that I could see my feet past my chesticles before, but now I see belly instead of boobs. 

In TWELVE days B and I find out the gender of our child. The first thought that comes to mind when I think 12 days is holy balls, but so far the overwhelming guesses have been toward girl. Ideally my parents and sisters along with B’s parents, brothers and wives would all meet somewhere after The Appointment and we could tell our family together turtle vs taco all at the same time.

One of the many blessings (?) to having both our families in the same general area. I’m afraid I know if we don’t tell everyone all together someone is going to end upset and with hurt feelings. Though I will admit to having more than a little anxiety about the explosive/drama/awkward potential to some of my family members being in the same place at the same time. But, that’s their issue not mine and if they don’t like it they don’t have to come. So there.

  This way the grandparents, aunts and uncles don’t find out in an impersonal facebook post or generic mass text. Not that there’s anything wrong with those kinds of announcements, but I really want to see people’s reactions.

And I won’t be able to keep my big fat mouth shut. Admitting you have a problem is the first step…

I’m in need of some fun party ideas on how to share the news. How would you let family know or what awesome ways have you seen it shared?