Whirlwind

So the past few weeks since the last post have been an absolute whirlwind.

Christmas with all the various parts of the families.  I didn’t have to change a single diaper Christmas Eve OR Christmas. Win!

New Year’s. The only reason I was awake to ring in the new year was because someone was demanding to eat. Men! 🙂 D had issues maintaining and gaining weight. We were going in for weekly weight checks. 

Once the 2013 rolled around I figured the chaos was behind us and D and I could figure out and set a schedule for how our days were going to go.

Wrong!

A few days after the new year D started throwing up. Seriously throwing up. We started using blankets for burp cloths because regular burp cloths couldn’t contain the mess. It escalated to projectile vomiting after every. single. feed. I was up to at least one, if not two, pukey loads of clothes a day. D’s and mine. I loathe doing laundry. Especially puke laundry. 

I tried everything to stop the vomiting. Smaller feeds. Burping after every ounce. Taking the bottle out of his mouth ever 30 seconds so D didn’t get too much at once. Smaller nip.ples on the bottle. Soy formula. Gas drops. Sitting up for 15, 30, 60 minutes after a feed. Everything twitter, facebook, family and friends suggested. None of it was helping and I was losing my mind.

I didn’t want to be the mom who constantly takes her child to the doctor for no reason. Sunday night D was still projectile puking and I decided I would make him an appointment just to be on the safe side. My gut was telling me this wasn’t normal and maybe he needed some reflux medication. I called Monday morning and the on call nurse agreed that with D’s vomiting and his sudden lack of wet diapers that D needed an appointment and we scheduled one for Monday afternoon. My sister came over to hang out Monday morning and decided to come with us to the appointment to spend more time with D before her class right around the corner from the doctor’s office.

The doctor asked why we were there and after giving D an exam He’d lost all the weight he’d fought so hard to put on and was back down below his birth weight. Again. she thought D may have something as simple as reflux but suspected he may have pyloric stenosis (thickening of the muscle between the stomach and small intestine that keeps food from being digested requiring surgery to fix) and sent us to the hospital for a stat ultrasound to confirm the diagnosis. Auntie A and I drove our cars to the hospital focusing on driving was the only thing keeping me from falling apart. and went straight from out patient testing back for the ultrasound. I hated having to call my sister and let her know we probably weren’t going to make it to the appointment to pick out bridesmaid dresses and see her in her wedding gown. Thankfully M was awesome at calming me down. And she was debating whether to cancel the whole appointment to come down to the hospital. Thank you, Tia. We love you!

Thank goodness Auntie A decided to come along for the appointment. B working, doesn’t have any cell reception in his building and was due to be leaving any minute. I sent him an email and text messages letting him know I needed him to call me asap. I didn’t want to focus on the worst case scenario, as hormonal, first time moms who are kicking themselves for waiting so long to take their kids to the doctor could possibly be, surgery, and tell him over the phone or in an email.

I finally got a hold of B and told him that D and I were okay but he needed to come to the hospital. I will never forget the sound of B’s voice when I told him what was going and that our son may need surgery. B was worried, but he was incredibly reassuring and supportive. And didn’t make any jokes about my cry voice over the phone.

B got there in time to hear the radiologist’s diagnosis- D did have pyloric stenosis and was going to be admitted straight from the ultrasound. My four week old son was going to have surgery.

Due to flu season being in full swing the peds floor was full and I ended up in the waiting room for 30 minutes with a baby who was starving and letting every person in the waiting know for a room to open up while B went home to pack bags. D couldn’t eat until after surgery…and we had no idea when that was going to be. Poor guy was starving, but he was a trooper!

Once we got a room the nurses took D’s vitals and needed to draw blood to see what his electrolyte levels were and to start an IV. They draw blood and start IVs in a procedure room so the parents can either stay and watch or as a reason to not have to see their child poked and prodded and to have all potentially needed tools in the same room. And it was painted with a really cool mural on the wall to put the kids at ease. I opted to go with for my peace of mind- to know that D wasn’t in too much pain and to make sure the nurses knew what they were doing. Not that I could do it myself. One nurse distracted him with one of the many toys in the room while another tried to start an IV, but because D was dehydrated his veins wouldn’t cooperate and he ended up with a scary looking one in his head. D’s labs came back and he was scheduled for surgery Tuesday morning at 11am.

Monday night was quite possibly the longest night of my life. D was beyond hungry, would not. stop. crying. and I was running solo. It was the night of the Notre Dame/Alabama championship game, the televisions at the hospital are itty bitty, it was not going to be quiet for B to hear the commentary and these sick little kids did not need to see/hear the adult temper tantrum that was a possibility if the game did not go well for ND so I sent B home. Definitely the right choice!  

Tuesday morning finally rolled around and my Dad came to keep me company while I waited for B to get to the hospital. There was someone coming to appraise the house to refinance our mortgage. Interest rates are LOW, yo! I was incredibly thankful my parents were with me. My youngest sister had emergency brain surgery at 2 weeks old and they know exactly how it feels for your child to need a surgical procedure out of the blue and how helpless to do anything you feel. 

D went back to pre-op at 10 and I managed to keep it together. Definitely helped that I got to carry him instead of walking behind him being wheeled down in the bed that looked like a cage. D’s surgeon was an amazing man who sat down, looked me in the eye told me step for step what he was going to be doing, in terms that I could understand without a medical degree. He told us that D would probably be taken back for surgery about 11am, the procedure would take roughly an hour, D would be post-op and we could hold our son by 12:15pm plus/minus 15 minutes. We could lay eyes on our son and hold him by 12:30. Definitely reassuring to know exactly what was happening and when we could see D. B made it to pre-op in time to hold D and spend a few minutes with him. The surgical nurses came in, commented on how adorable D was (naturally), and took our little baby away. Then, I lost it.  

My parents, B and I checked in to the surgical waiting room and the waiting game began. There was an adorable  little girl not much older than D in the waiting room and I lost it all over again. After a few minutes one of the nurses came out to let us know D’s surgery had started. Right on time. 90 minutes until we could see our sweet boy, tops.

Thank goodness for technology and wireless internet!

Right at noon the surgeon came out to let us know the procedure went well and let us know D was in recovery and was starting to wake up. He even showed us photos from the surgery! Another nurse came out and took us back to see D.

D in recovery. Hard to see our son like this, but nice knowing he was on his way to feeling much, much better.

D was going to be in recovery for at least an hour and my parents were anxious to see D as well. B and I ran down to the cafeteria to get a quick bite to eat while the grandparents spent some time with D and he was back in his room before we could finish eating.

Daddy holding his son for the first time post-op.

D had to wait 3 hours after surgery to eat for the swelling to go down and potentially keep food down. B gave D his first single ounce of food in over 24 hours. For the first time in days  D kept food down! I held D after he ate and kept the bottle down. He looked me right in the face and smiles for the first time. There was no doubt in my mind that D was feeling tons better.

Feeeeeeeeeeeed me!

The next few feedings did not go as well as the first. The surgeon had told us that 90% of patients go home the day after surgery. D needed to keep 2 oz down for 3 feedings in a row in order to go home and he earned himself an extra night in the hospital. I had a lot of guilt about D needing to stay the extra day. I felt like a really bad mom for not listening to my instincts and taking him to the doctor sooner. But that’s another story.  

After lots of tears D’s and mine D finally kept his 2 oz down for the 3rd time the wee hours on Thursday morning and the three of us finally got to go home! B burned through vacation days to stay at the hospital with D and in support of me. I did the ugly cry more than once in the days were in the hospital. I am forever thankful for how supportive B and our families were.

I was more than a little nervous to take D home and take are of him, but this face was a definite step in the right direction.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

It’s November 1st.

The official beginning to my most favoritest time of the year. I am totally aware favoritest isn’t a real word. THAT is how much I love this time of year!

November means Thanksgiving is mere weeks away. Not only does Thanksgiving bring delicious, once a year culinary masterpieces it’s the first family togetherness holiday.

No matter which parts of which family time is spent with when. Dysfunction(s) and all.

Too bad Xanax isn’t an option this year…

Right after Thanksgiving is another personal holiday.

My birthday! 

And it will two years since my parents’ separation. Instead of mourning all the emotional baggage, I’ve decided to try focus on all the positive things that have come from it and positive changes. In my relationships with my parents. My sisters. My husband. I can actually see and find positives. That’s some serious progress in the past 2 years.

Two weeks after my birthday, my son is ‘supposed’ to be born.

The son I never thought I would have.

Two weeks after my due date is a double whammy.

Brian’s birthday AND Christmas.

More fabulous food family togetherness!

I love this time of year. All the decorations, the food and the family. I can hardly wait!

But seriously, how is it November already?! Where did 2012 go?!

 

 

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.

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

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

Drop Kick to the Gut or Flipping the Bird

This blog is getting some new content and I want to give you the heads up. After 3 years of marriage, 2 years of not not trying, doctors, meds and more things in my lady bits than I care to share I’m got a big fat positive 4/7/12 and Nugget will hopefully making his/her arrival 12/12/12.

The last thing I want to do is alienate some of the fabulous people I’ve ‘met’ through blogging about the bitch that is Infertility.

When I find out someone else is pregnant I have one of two reactions.

1.When it’s a Fertile- It feels like a giant drop kick right in the ovaries, a punch in the face and like someone is doing the Mexican hat dance right on your heart.  Usually when it’s a oops announcement, someone who got pregnant on the first try, or they announce before the pee on the stick is even dry. Or is that only me? 

OR

2.  A fellow IF-er- There’s a twinge of jealous but it feels pretty flipping fabulous to get a tally in the win column against infertility. Like you can stick your tongue out that biotch, flip her the bird and tell her to suck it. Even if it isn’t my win. 

Hey IF! This one’s for you!

The absolute last thing I want to do is cause someone pain, grief or trigger someone by writing about my pregnancy and all the stuff that goes with it.

So there it is. A heads up and a hug to you all.

Hope

One Christmas after my infertility diagnosis my mother gave me this as a present.

This Easter I got a serious surprise in my Easter basket.

This year, this little Nugget will be the best Christmas present ever!

 

Hopefully Nugget decides to come on his/her due date. Having a birthday of 12/12/12 would be pretty awesome!

 

 

Sorry about the poor picture quality. Note to self- phone posts aren’t the best.

I’m baaaaaaaaaaaack!

Maybe not by popular demand, but I *am* back. 🙂

I’m baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!

I finally finished school with the world’s worst and most disorganized teacher ever. Hallelujah!

I’ve officially passed my classes (with a 98%, thank you very much! *insert pack pat here) and I’m in the process of filling out (a bajillion and one) job applications and trying to schedule my state boards.

Now that classes are done and I’m completely unemployed  swimming in free time, it’s time to get my life in order. My house is a hawt mess, I have a pile of laundry that’s almost as tall as I am and my lawn could double as a forest. It’s probably a good thing we don’t kids or pets. I’d be terrified they’d get lost forever. Seriously, I feel like I could legit be on Hoaders…not good. 

This week has been a complete whirlwind. I finished clinicals Thursday and got my certificate. Friday I spent the day amking phone calls and taking my car in to get the maintenance required light checked out. ***Note to self, maintenance required is completely different than check engine. You may feel like an azz for not knowing the difference. And you certainly will want to smack the man telling you, “It’s okay, Little Lady, I wouldn’t ‘spect you to know the difference. I’m surprised half you little ladies know the gas is on the right most the time. Jackhole.***

I’m going to be worthless today. I slept a whopping 10.5 hours last night… after a 3.5 hour nap Friday afternoon. I’m totally in debt to the sleep bank, those quality hours in bed were much needed. And B got a kick out of my redonkulous bed head. Lol.

This evening B and I will be heading to my Mom’s house for a good-bye dinner for my oldest younger sister before she leaves tomorrow morning to move to North Carolina. It’s going to be a little bittersweet to see her move 12-ish hours away, but hellooooooo awesome vacay destination! I’m excited for her to embark on a new adventure. Love you, Mel! 

On the health front-

I don’t know if it’s been the stress of classes, practicals and clinicals or something else, but Aunt Flo has been completely MIA. She’s a full three weeks late. And I got my hopes up. Again. My consultation with Dr. EPT resulted in a big fat negative (BFN) and I was okay-ish with it. I was in the middle of classes, there’s been a lot of family stuff going on and B was having a whole bunch of seizures.

Despite the BFN, I’m more upset about the disappearance of my period. Things were really looking good. I was getting my period mostly regularly and I was feeling really good. I felt like I had some kind of control over my body and what was going on with it. I have an appointment coming up this month with my doctor and I think I have to ask for a referral to a specialist. The infertility is disappointing, but I’m more worried about the insulin resistance. What I’m doing right now it’s working. I’m worried about what’s going on with my liver and pancreas. If I’m not on the right medications or should be doing something different I want to know. I need to know.

Workouts have taken a backseat to everything else these past few weeks, but that’s all about to change. I’m excited to FINALLY get back in the swing of things and back to Mamavation!

 

And that’s been my life this past month.

What’s been happening with you? What have I missed out on?