Yet Another Reason I'm Not A Fan of My Job

Warning: This is long and filled with TMI, most of which involves vomit. And some swearing.

Last Tuesday, I was stuck at work late, as I had been Monday. P called to say that Harry was throwing up at dinner. A lot. More than once. And kept throwing up while P tried to get him cleaned up, including on P, and kept throwing up once they were both stripped down, and kept throwing up in the tub. Once he fell asleep, though, he was fine. He threw up again when P was giving him breakfast on Wednesday (I had to be at work early, so I missed breakfast), so they both stayed home, as it was obvious at that point that it wasn't something he had eaten the day before. After breakfast, he seemed fine, though.

I got home from work at midnight or so on Wednesday and went to bed. I woke up at 3:30 with bad stomach pain. I convinced myself it was stress, but by 4:15 or so, it was obvious that I had caught Harry's stomach bug. By 5 or so, it was obvious P had too. We dropped Harry off at daycare (he hadn't thrown up in more than 24 hours and seemed fine), then P dropped me off at my 30 week OB appointment and went home to go back to bed. The midwife was concerned about dehydration leading to preterm labor and told me I had to come back the following morning for an IV evaluation if I still couldn't keep anything down. She also said to focus on liquids and not try to eat.

The reason P dropped me off and left? I *had* to work that day, as I had a brief that had to be filed. So I kept my trash can close to my desk (I feel really bad for the cleaning person -- I told her not to empty it, that I'd do it myself, but she came by when I was away from my desk for a minute and emptied it -- yuck) and kept my door closed all day, occasionally lying on the floor and moaning in agony and crying for much of the day. Meanwhile, both partners on the case hopped on a plane midafternoon to DC, asking me to fax them drafts to review in their hotels (not the same hotel, of course, because that would be too easy). And the only other associate on the case, a first year, blew me off all day, starting at 5 the task I asked her to have done by close of business. You know, by 5. Note that each of these people knew I was sick. I tried to spare them the details, but I think I was clear enough to indicate how sick I was. In the end, though, I didn't get home until almost midnight. It was honestly one of the least pleasant work days I've ever had. I cried *a lot*.

Thankfully, because the brief had been filed, I decided I would stay home on Friday and try to recuperate. Maybe nap. Catch up on a few things that desperately needed to be done around the house but never get done because there's never a time when we aren't watching Harry or at work or when Harry isn't sleeping and these things are too loud to do then. Start doing some of the Hypnobabies home study course that I told myself I'd start six weeks ago as I hope and prepare for a better birth experience this time around. Maybe watch a little TV.

Sadly, that was not to be. At 6-something on Friday morning, I heard Harry crying on the monitor, which pretty much never happens. P, of course, didn't move. So I got up and went to check on him. When I opened the door, it was like the last scene of season 4 of Dexter, but with vomit instead of blood. It covered every inch of his crib sheet. It was matted into his hair. And he was just sitting in it in his sleep sack, clutching his vomit-covered blankie, sobbing. Poor thing. So we all stayed home. And I didn't get a day of rest or productivity. Instead, I spent yet another hour crying from exhaustion and frustration and a sense of futility and just being *done* (after which I did pass out for an hour in a crumpled heap on the couch while P entertained Harry). Oh, and I got bitchy messages all day from work people wondering where I was (all of which I ignored), plus some nice ones from people who were worried (some of which I inadvertently ignored as well in my effort to ignore the others).

I hate being sick. I hate my job. I hate being sick and having a stressful week at the same time. And I hate it even more when pregnant and tired. And I hate that I received no thanks, no acknowledgment that I spent my day finalizing a brief while vomiting into my trash can, and that I did so while pregnant. Fuck you, job. FUCK YOU.

Monday Morning Odds and Ends :)

I lack the time or energy to post a full post, but have some things I feel I need to put out there so as not to forget them.

1. Ten years ago today, P and I went on our first date. We were seated in the worst seat in the restaurant -- right next to the door of the kitchen. If nothing else had been, that itself would have been memorable. That said, I don't think either one of us could possibly have anticipated where it would lead. But here we are, ten years later. I love you, P!
2. When Harry was still coughing last Monday and hadn't eaten more than a couple of real meals in weeks, P took him to the doctor. Despite not having had a fever (except one day the week before) and not having had any disruptions to his sleep, and not acting in pain (aside from the not eating), it turned out he had an ear infection. So he went on antibiotics.
3. Since then, the cough has gone away.
4. Yesterday, though, was the first day he really seemed to be back to normal. For breakfast, he ate two bowls of cheerios and a cup of pineapple. For lunch, a grilled cheese and grapes. For snack, graham crackers, a few goldfish, and part of a peppermint patty (yeah, he had candy for a snack -- sue me). And dinner was a veggie dog, kidney beans, more pineapple, and mandarin oranges. For weeks, all he's been willing to eat is goldfish, graham crackers, and fruits and veggies. I made a chicken noodle casserole, and he picked out the mushrooms and broccoli and ate them and left the rest behind. I realize a lot of parents would be thrilled if this were their problem with their kids' eating habits, but it's disconcerting when your child only consumes 100-200 calories a day -- they can only eat so much broccoli. Also, the usual suggestions don't work for combatting this problem, since you can't really hide chicken in a blueberry or grains in a mushroom.
5. Harry's language has really exploded over the past month or so. He finally says both mama and dada, along with a ton of other new words, many of which are quite weird. For example, he can name the "sea star" on his high chair (and also likes to point out all the "bubbles"). And he's quite fond of "backhoes." He says "cheese!" for the camera. He asks for "books" in general and some by name (or parts thereof). And he knows certain parts of books by sight or by anticipation -- he knows what nine dogs do on a moonlit night, and when the gorilla gets caught in the bed by Mrs. Zookeeper, he says "uh-oh" then he does a funny laugh (a heh-heh) in response to the gorilla's grin on the next page (he also snores when the mouse wishes the gorilla goodnight at the end). He says "bu-bye" and waves even if no one is going anywhere. And he gets very frustrated when he wants to go "ow-sye" but it's cold and he isn't wearing a coat. He decided that one of the cats at my in-laws will be "kitty" and the other "cat." (Also called kitty was the dead possum at the far end of our street -- I hope someone calls animal control. If it's still there tomorrow, I'm calling, whether P thinks it's our responsibility or not (we live at the start of a dead end-- the "kitty" is in the dead end part, in front of someone else's house).) I think we can put to rest the overly-cautious-pedi's concerns regarding speech delay.
6. I wonder whether the language explosition is purely developmental or whether moving him to a different daycare two days a week played a role. I think the other kids play with/talk to him more at his new place, and I think he engages in more of the group activities there rather than wandering off to play with trucks. That, however, is another post entirely.
7. Last night during Harry's bath, Harry and P were singing Old MacDonald. Harry was actually singing the E-I-E-I-O part, as well as naming the occasional animal (his choice is pretty much always duck) and saying the sound of most of the animals Old MacDonald had on that farm. Of course, he didn't want to stop singing for bedtime, but it was pretty darn adorable. He has sang before, but it's pretty much been limited to the "quack, quack, quack" part of Six Little Ducks.
8. Twenty-seven weeks tomorrow. That seems crazy. I can't believe it's March.

Uneventful NT Scan

We had our NT scan today. It was rather uneventful. The measurement was right on target -- 1.6, I believe. They had some trouble getting any other measurements but seemed satisfied by the end. We got a few pictures, including a 3D one, to take home. All in all, uneventful but in a good way.

As a random note, Harry was pretty active at that point but this baby put him to shame, moving all over the place. We may be in trouble.

Secrecy

(I originally wrote this post on my Blackberry and then it disappeared. If you are someone who posts via Blackberry, got any pointers?)

I thought it might be worthwhile to explain why it is that keeping this pregnancy under wraps is important to me. There are, in fact, a number of reasons. The first is probably the most obvious reason: the uncertainty over the outcome. We are the type of people who wait until they are out of the first trimester to tell anyone other than our parents or siblings (and with the pregnancy we lost, we didn't/hadn't planned to tell them before the end of the first trimester either and didn't end up telling them until we were pregnant again). I know there are a lot of people who don't wait or who think that doing so is silly, and I have no problem with that approach for them, but we aren't those people. In part, it's the fear of having to untell. In part, it's something else that I can't name -- superstition, maybe? But we are non-tellers.

The second reason can best be summarized as "work." I am nervous about taking two leaves so close together. I am worried about the signals it sends. I am especially worried because of how difficult it has been for me to get any traction work-wise since I came back from leave in March. I am worried that it will be even more difficult doing so a second time. I am worried that I won't get to come back from leave a second time. I am worried that it sends the wrong message about my commitment to my job. Or, perhaps, I am worried that it in fact sends exactly the right message as far as accuracy of content goes, but I'm just not sure I want the message sent. Regardless, postponing telling anyone seems like an easy way to avoid having to confront these issues.

The third reason is our friends and their current IVF cycle. I really hope this is the one for them. But whether it is or it isn't, I don't want to say anything about us while they are still waiting to find out. If it is the one, I want to give them time to enjoy being the pregnant people without anyone else being pregnant too. And if it's not, I want them to have time to grieve before I drop a fucking bomb on them. Man, I hope this is the one, for their sake and for my own -- the guilt might kill me.

So that's three of the prime reasons why we will be keeping this a secret, and why I will be saving this as a draft for now. And why I would love it if I could just never tell anyone at all.

Neither Trying Nor Preventing

Apparently, such a strategy can have the following consequences:

(Apologies for the awful picture.) The first one strip was last Tuesday.

Since my period has been irregular since Harry was born because of the whole nursing thing, I have no idea when I ovulated, but if I had to guess I would have thought it was several (like 4-5) days after the last time we actually did the deed, so this is a huge surprise to say the least. That first strip is rather faint, which would be consistent with it being about 14dpo. If there's any validity to the Shettles Method, I'm guessing this will be a girl, if in fact we get that far.

Strangely, I'm not feeling as nervous or anxious as I would expect. Or, to the extent I'm feeling nervous/anxious, it's more over the idea of possibly having two under two or of having to manage a career and two small kids or of having to tell my dad, who I suspect will feel that the latter is impossible, or at least that my work will be less than thrilled, thereby derailing my career further.

For now, I will attempt to be excited. And for now, we will keep this a serious secret. And for now, I am going to save this post as a draft, to be published later.

36w2d

I had my 36 week appointment, and it was thoroughly uneventful. Basically, the usual plus the GBS swab. The office doesn't do an internal unless you've experienced significant contractions or are at 39 weeks or so, which is consistent with their general non-interventionist philosophy, with which I am comfortable. I feel very fortunate that everything has gone well thus far (knock on wood -- seriously little creatures you didn't hear me say that). The fact that the only issues have been a) the near-fainting episodes, b) basic aches and pains while sleeping/trying to sleep/upon waking, and c) the pain and tingling/numbness in my hands makes it that much easier to work with a hands-off approach. If I had had complications, I suspect I'd be freaked out at this point, though they would probably be less hands-off.

As for knocking things off the list, I met with HR today. The process seems pretty simple. Prepare a vacation memo but call it a maternity leave memo and make sure there's coverage on all my cases. No paperwork or anything. Tonight we are heading to the police department to have the car seat base that P installed inspected and the other one installed, then we'll come home and hang the remaining shelves. We had our baby care class last night, which was pretty helpful. I'm glad I now know how to properly bathe an infant, how to wake a sleepy baby to feed, how to soothe a baby when nothing else seems to work, and when to call a pediatrician.

On that note, they asked at the class who didn't have a pediatrician yet, and we were one of three couples who didn't, and the others were due a month or more after us. So P and I set up appointments with a few pediatricians today to try to figure that whole thing out. One (the one my OB recommended) didn't have any availability until 9/11, which a) may be too late for a pre-baby appointment and b) makes me apprehensive about our ability to get an appointment as needed for the baby anyway. The other two (one at the practice most of the people I know use, one at the other major practice in our town that, oddly, no one I know uses) will be next week. Hopefully we'll get a particularly good feel from one or the other so we can decide. We can always switch later if we don't like them, right?

Finally, I made a little addition to the sidebar -- What Is Lou? Anyone care to place a guess? I'm curious as to what anyone else thinks.

Eek: 27 Days to Go and Major Life Changes

27 days to go. And that's assuming no early arrival. That said, I was born on my due date, and P was four weeks late, but I have no sense as to whether our mothers' experiences are at all predictive.

I am feeling somewhat better about how much there is to do. Between last week and last night, we made some progress on the list. We sorted stuff last week and put all things requiring washing into the hamper. We also started the laundry last night. I know you're supposed to wash baby things before use -- how many times? We're going with two, but I'm starting to wonder if we should just do one for clothes/blankets and only do more for cloth diapers. We have our Taking Care of Your Newborn class tonight, so maybe we'll find out then. The corner shelves were a pain in the ass for P to install given that our walls aren't square, but they got done last night and look awesome. We'll probably tackle the wall shelves tomorrow. And we ordered a quilt hanger -- thanks Nicki!

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On an unrelated-to-baby note, this weekend, my dad got remarried. It's weird to be 31 and get a whole bunch of new family members. I went from having one brother to four, plus a new sister in law and niece. I'm not sure to what extent I'm supposed to think of them as brothers, etc. -- if I was a kid and we all lived together, then sure, of course they're siblings, but as adults it's different, or at least it feels that way.

And there's also the significant change that it represents to all of our lives. For us (me, my dad, and my brother), getting through my parents' divorce involved the repetition of a lot of traditions and the creation of new ones. It gave us a sense of stability in a time that was seriously lacking in it. I definitely came to rely on that repetition and sense of constancy, probably too much so. It was just the three of us for so long. Now, with each passing year, we seem to add new family (first P and his family, then my SIL and hers, and now my dad's wife and her family), and while each addition is a blessing, it requires a change in "what we've always done." Thus far, the changes we've made have been relatively limited -- my dad and brother/SIL have joined P and I with Ps family for Thanksgiving for 8+ years; P and I cut the time with each of our families short at Christmas in order to fit everyone in, resulting in a lot of time in the car; P and I only do vacation with my famly every other year to allow us some travel time on our own -- but my dad's routine throughout this time has stayed largely the same or accommodated us, so it's only been our routines that have changed.

But it won't stay that way. My dad will be moving further away (from an hour away to three hours away), and, I assume, will be spending at least some holidays with his wife's family. He's very nonconfrontational (and rather passive-aggressive), and I fear that will result in us seeing very little of him, except when it doesn't much matter to her (such as Christmas (she is Jewish), which is the holiday that is the most difficult for P and I as it is, given the number of people that expect to see us and given Ps (and my) reluctance to do all the driving with a baby and my family's unwillingness to accommodate our needs). And I'm not sure where any of it leaves me, other than with feelings of abandonment and terror. For so long, my brother and I accommodated my dad's wishes around holidays because he was sad and lonely and it was what he needed. But now it's what I need and I feel like no one gives a shit. Several years in a row we didn't even see my dad for Father's Day because he made other plans, and it broke my heart, but it felt selfish to say so.

Bottom line: As much as I know I'm gaining a lot of new family, I feel like I'm losing the one I had, and it makes me incredibly sad and afraid at a time when I'm already feeling overwhelmed. I wish I could grab hold of my family and force them to stay close and keep things the way they always were, but I know I can't. I know things change and the world doesn't revolve around me and my needs but sometimes I wish it did.

Relaxation

For my birthday in June, P gave me a certificate entitling me to a pre-baby spa day and a post-baby spa day. Saturday, I redeemed the former and had a maternity massage, manicure, and pedicure. That night, we went to a friend's place and sat on her deck and ate chips and grilled veggies and other foods. Then Sunday, we had our family and friends baby shower.* When I thought only of those things, I concluded I had had a very relaxing weekend and couldn't understand why I felt so wiped out on Monday morning. Which I did. Not just that I-should-go-to-bed-earlier kind of tired but the I-can't-believe-I-have-to-be-awake-ever-again kind of tired. And I still feel that way.

Then I remembered that we went out to dinner and to see the new Batman movie at the Imax on Friday night with good friends of ours.** (I highly recommend seeing it on Imax.) It wasn't an incredibly late night, but we don't usually go out both nights in a weekend these days. And late on Saturday night (post-BBQ) I also cleaned out the closet in the nursery when P was at a friend's place playing video games with the boys. I got all the junk out, moving most of it to the attic, but some to other places. I swept decades of dust off the top shelf and off the top of the built in dresser. I cleaned the nasty crap out of all the drawers. I cleaned the floor. And it finally looked like a place we could actually put things, for the first time in the three and a half years we've owned our house. Oh, and I watched some Olympics. Then Sunday, before the shower, I went to church. And we went to the hardware store to get a rod for the closet in the nursery, since there wasn't one. Then the shower, the first half of which involved a lot of standing around and talking to people and the second half of which involved sitting and being stared at (while opening wonderful gifts). I am not a big fan of being the center of attention, and having to sit in front of a room full of people while they all stare at you is exhausting. Then my dad, his fiancee, my brother, and SIL all came over to our place: my dad and his fiancee for a tutorial on using an iPod, since that's how they plan to play music at their wedding this weekend; my brother and SIL just to hang out. It was between 8 and 9 by the time everyone had left, and we still had to unload the car from the shower since it had been pouring when we got home. And then I stayed up late watching the Olympics. Oh, and I continue to do my best to gestate a person.

Perhaps this week's exhaustion is less inexplicable than I thought.

*More on that in a separate post -- I want to include a few pictures, but don't have them yet.

**Our friends started Lupron in preparation for their first IVF cycle early the next morning. I hope you will join me in sending good thoughts their way.

29w4d

This post is truly boring. Don't say you weren't warned.

I had my 29/30 week appointment yesterday. It was relatively uneventful. I had gained four pounds in twelve days and freaked out a bit, but the midwife told me that my swollen feet/ankles and puffy looking face suggested to her that it was more water than anything else. Her guess was 3.5 pounds of water and .5 of weight. She then gave me suggestions to reduce the swelling, but I'm not sure how much they'll help, since I already drink 1 - 1.5 gallons of water a day and can't really keep my feet up at work (which would only help with the feet/ankles anyway). I think the real key would have been not having Thai for dinner the night before (mmm... Drunken Noodles and Udon Basil Chicken). And cutting back on sodium generally, but she wants me to keep consuming the sodium to keep my blood pressure up. So I may just have to live with retaining a lot of water.

She also thought my neck looked swollen and sent me for bloodwork to check my thyroid levels. (I am sure they will come back normal -- medical people constantly think my neck looks swollen and send me for a thyroid check, and it always comes back normal. Apparently, I just have a thick neck.) And she figured if I was having a blood draw anyway, she'd check on my gallbladder as well (and seems to have added a liver test in as well, since I got the results of that and the gallbladder this morning -- both normal; no results on the thyroid yet).

That's about all that going on around here.

Preparation

We took our "prepared childbirth" class this weekend. I'm not sure how much I actually learned, but it was good to have reinforcement for things, and I think a lot of it was new for P. I have been giving him specific responsibilities (like research baby monitors or finish redoing the f'ing patio), which means he hasn't really focused at all on anything else. Things like, say, how it is that the baby will get out of me. I think he found the whole thing frightening. Also, he was the first partner to be willing to try wearing the empathy belly and concluded that he could probably handle the extra weight but wasn't so sure about the difficulty breathing or the bladder pressure. Those two things taken together seem to have given him a newfound empathy. I've gotten more backrubs than usual over the past few days, which is nice.

My biggest fear about the class was the other people, but they were all pretty much fine. The place offering it this particular weekend is in a ritzier suburb, so the attendees were largely well-educated married couples in their 30s. My biggest fear was giggling pregnant teens or really stupid questions, and the demographic pretty much precluded both. We were by far the least far along people in the class, mainly due to scheduling -- the majority were due the first week in August. We'll be on vacation for two weeks later this month, then our shower is the following weekend, then my dad's wedding. The next weekend after this that they offer the class and we are free is three weeks before the EDD, which seems like cutting it close. That said, three couples in our class had less than three weeks to go, so maybe I'm just being overly cautious.


Related to preparing for childbirth, we are in the process of acquiring a new vehicle. This makes me nervous. We both drive 1997 compact cars. Mine is largely fine, but Ps is starting to fall apart, so we're looking to upgrade. I paid cash for my car when I bought it (used), and P paid his off years ago, so taking on an expensive car loan makes me super nervous, but I know we need to do it. Eek.

Finally, I added a belly shot from this week (this morning, in fact). As you can see, I've sort of exploded lately. Double eek.

100 days to go

First, thanks so much to all of you for your supportive comments! I have been riding in the car with the seat not reclined, sitting on an otherwise useless throw pillow, and it seems to be helping. I think it pushes me up out of the bucket part of the seat in the car. That said, when I was at the movies, I tried leaning forward, which would also theoretically seem to relieve pressure on the vena cava, and it didn't help, but I'll keep up with the pillow. And I've stopped drinking v8 in the morning, since the other commonality between the various near-fainting episodes was recent consumption of copious quantities of sodium (v8, movie popcorn, Thai food. Mmmm. Thai food.).

Second, I do have a body pillow and started using it a week or so ago. It's not one of the fancy pregnancy ones, but rather a generic long, semi-firm pillow that a friend loaned me (like this one). It seems to help relieve the pressure on the hips, which is great. I think the stomach pain isn't muscular/physiological but rather digestive. And it started coming during the day too. The other day, I ate an apple as a snack and felt awful for the rest of the day. P had commented that he thought pregnant women were supposed to be gassy, and I haven't been, so I'm wondering if it's been getting trapped in there. So, as my first trial-and-error solution, I've cut back on gas-inducing fruits and veggies, and it seems to have helped so far. We'll see if it lasts.

Third, we got a call last night that our furniture had arrived at the warehouse and was ready for delivery. They said it would be 10-12 weeks, but it was less than 4. We are sooo not ready for furniture, since the room still has junk in it and the ceiling needs to be skim coated and the room needs to be painted. Yikes. They'll hold it for as long as we need, though, which is great. I have a new-found love for the Baby Furniture Warehouse.

Finally, 100 days to go. Crazy. I have started having dreams about babies. Ones with actual babies in them.

The More Uplifting Post I Promised

Thanks for letting me whine yesterday, and thanks to all of you for your support. I had a minor meltdown this morning and (finally) let P know how stressed I was feeling about work and about how much we have to do between now and September. I felt a bit better after getting it out. Plus, I survived a client being interviewed by the IRS this morning and feel like I'll actually be able to get this filing that needs to get out the door today done in time. I will still have a ton of work to do over the next few weeks, but am feeling slightly less overwhelmed.

As for a few more uplifting thoughts:

1. I finally look pregnant rather than like I ate too much at Thankgiving dinner. I always thought it was a joke when pregnant women said they woke up one morning and felt like they popped, but I woke up the morning after the Walk for Hunger and was twice the size I had been the day before. When I started the Walk, the friend I was walking with joked that if she didn't know I was pregnant she certainly wouldn't guess from looking at me. That is certainly no longer true. Strangers comment now, including the lady at the counter when I got lunch yesterday. I feel like there are periodically little things that make this all seem real, and having the appearance of a pregnant person, as much as it freaks me out, is one of those things.
2. Along similar lines (i.e. things that make this all feel real), we ordered our nursery furniture last weekend. We got the "regular" (i.e. drop side) crib and the combo unit (without hutch) from this line in cherry. There were other cribs we liked more (such as this one and this one), but we didn't like the corresponding dressers (namely the price -- twice as much as the one we got), and they didn't have the cribs we liked in stains that any other company uses (they mainly had cognac), so we went with this as a compromise. We also got a changing table pad. Crazy. It was also great to feel like we accomplished something off of our mammoth to-do list. And, again, the feeling real thing.
3. My brother brought flowers for all the moms for mother's day dinner (he is a florist) and brought an arrangement for me. And my mother-in-law got me a card and a Red Sox onesie for Lou (which is what we've been calling the baby in utero). I didn't expect anything from anyone, so both gestures were very sweet and very much appreciated.
4. I love my dog. He's the best dog ever. This is terrible, but I've often wondered if I will love my children as much as I love my dog. I am sure I will, but I really do love my dog. How could you not?

Buddy on "his bed" (aka the guest bed)

"Rooooo! Throw my red toy!"

His favorite activity -- swimming for tennis balls (none of his constituent mutt parts are supposed to be swimmers, but he loves the water)

Half-Baked: Because You Asked

Today marks the halfway point, which seems absolutely preposterous. But evidently it is. I have my 20 week appointment on Tuesday, which I have to go to myself, as P will be getting ready to leave for Cleveland on a business trip. He put all our appointments in his calendar but then didn't consult his calendar when he booked his flight. This is very typical of him. I have to tell him 10 times about any plans we have, and he still asks about the date/time at the last minute. For him, making dinner involves me preparing him a shopping list and reading him the directions step by step. I generally find it easier just to make it myself. But I digress.

Because you asked, I added a ticker.

And because you asked, here are belly shots. I've been doing them weekly since week five. I'm trying to do them in the same tank-top and sweatpants each week (though the top was in the wash this week, so I wore the same one in a different color, and I wore different sweatpants the first week). Buddy is frequently in the photos, though sometimes he's under the covers. Thus far, the biggest changes have been from 15 to 16 weeks and from 18 to 20 weeks.

From hereonout, I'll add one (probably just adding to this post) every four weeks. So, starting with week 5 since I didn't take one week 4, here are belly shots every four weeks.

Five Weeks:



Eight weeks:



Twelve weeks:



Sixteen weeks:



And today, twenty weeks (excuse the visible underwear on the side!):



22 weeks 1 day:



24 weeks 2 days:



26 weeks 1 day



29 weeks 1 day:



31 weeks 4 days:



34 weeks 1 day:



36 weeks 1 day (sorry it's blurry!):



37 weeks, 1 day:



38 weeks, 2 days:



39 weeks, 5 days (the day we went to the hospital):



One week post-partum:

The rest of the ultrasound photos

Monday's Ultrasound

So, we had our Level II ultrasound Monday. Everything looked good, according to the radiologist and the tech. (Apologies to anyone who was worried when I didn't post right away -- been working awful hours this week.) We saw the little hands and feet, the bladder, the stomach, all four chambers of the heart, the blood flowing in and out of the umbilical cord, and the spine and ribs. And they took a lot of measurements of the lengths of the bones in the arms and legs and the size of the skull. The radiologist said we'd get more info when we met with our regular doctor, but we don't have our next appointment for 2 weeks, and that appointment is with the midwife rather than the OB. I assume we'll still cover the details then, since Memorial Day (which is when our next doc appt is) seems awfully far away.

The baby is much higher up than I expected -- at or around my belly-button already, which I suppose explains why said body part is getting shallower and shallower (I don't want to lose my innie!). Crazy. And baby was very wiggly -- the doctor had some trouble getting some shots/measurements. We didn't get to see him/her in 3D, as s/he was covering his/her face with his/her small hands and arms most of the time, but we got some pictures in 2D. Sadly, most are a little fuzzy-looking (and have the aforementioned hands in front of/arms across face problem), and my computer crapped out this morning while finishing the scan and upload, so I've only got the worst of the lot ready for sharing. I'll post more later.



Oh, and in case it wasn't obvious from that horrific sentence filled with him/hers, we're waiting until September to find out the sex.

3 Things to Worry Less About

We got the results back from our serial-sequential screening* last week:

Pre-testing, our risk of a neural tube defect was 1:900. Now it's 1:10000.
Pre-testing, our risk of Down Syndrome based on my age was 1:660. Now it's 1:3900.
Pre-testing, our risk of Trisomy 18 based on my age was 1:2600. Now it's 1:8600.

Of course, it's a screening, not a diagnostic test, so, as noted in the subject, all it really does is decrease the amount of worry about the aforementioned conditions. But decreased worry is something, no? Said worry would be further decreased if it were accompanied by some actual sensations of fetal movement. I heard the heartbeat a few days ago (thank God for the doppler) but find the lack of any clear** movement disconcerting. I keep having visions of some video or movie I saw years ago that scared the crap out of me, which P is sure, based on my vague description, is the video for Metallica's One, but the video didn't really look like what I was remembering, so I'm not convinced that was what I was thinking of, but it's been a while so it might have been. Regardless, I'm scared that the baby has no arms/legs or is paralyzed in utero or is just a vessel containing a beating heart (even though at 12 weeks we saw arms and stumps that we were told were legs and the baby did something that P still describes as sit-ups).

The Level II ultrasound is Monday (five more sleeps). The reality is that the closer we get to any appointment, the more paranoid I start to get, I think steeling myself for any potential bad news.

Monday is also the day after my original due date. I wish I could go to bed on Saturday and wake up Monday (or perhaps several months from now if the ultrasound doesn't go well), but that doesn't seem likely. Plus, I am having breakfast with the new minister at church on Sunday, then ushering at the 10am, so sleeping through the day would be a bit, well, rude. I ushered the Sunday that was 2 days after the D&E in September and cried silently through much of the service. I'm hoping I will get through Sunday in a more composed state, but I'm not holding my breath. Any prayers and/or positive thoughts heading into Sunday and Monday would be much appreciated.

* NT+1st trimester bloodwork+2nd trimester bloodwork with results only after all have been analyzed and integrated -- apprently it's newer, and not available everywhere, and more accurate than any of its constituent parts

** I feel things periodically that could be movement but they're extremely inconsistent (and infrequent) and could just as easily be minor spasms in or around my bladder.

Voldemort

Our house has four bedrooms: one is bigger and is our bedroom; two are the same basic size and serve as the office and guest room; the fourth is smaller and is, well, the room that shall not be named but is currently used for storage. In the years we have lived in our house, we have given thought to using it for various purposes, but, knowing what we eventually wanted it to be, we hesitated for fear of resenting the loss of our walk in closet or second floor laundry room or exercise area. So it has become the dumping ground for everything that has no other away. And since the fall, we have struggled to talk about it at all. As with everything else, I live in perpetual fear of speaking words aloud, certain that uttering the words will bring a curse or jinx upon me and leave us where we were last fall when we let ourselves plan ahead and think about the future. P jokes that we should call the baby Voldemort, agreeing to bear whatever curse may befall from naming he who shall not be named but will eventually live in the room that shall not be named.

I have trouble telling people that I am, well, you know, and instead have developed an intense need to speak in euphemism and innuendo. I find it easier to tell people by email and without words at all (such as by sending an ultrasound photo) than to actually say words like "pregnant" or "expecting," words which give me the willies even writing them here. I couldn't even bring myself to tell the head of my department like a normal person when I decided to tell him yesterday. I emailed him an ultrasound image and a semi-joking question about what I needed to do to make the news official, then appeared in his office a moment later.

We are thinking that to avoid this problem with respect to telling long-distance friends and family, we may create an email address for our dog and let him share the news. Maybe if dogs write things, the hex won't take.

13w2d

I feel like I have a big backlog of posts that I wrote in my head while our internet connection was spotty, but now I'm super busy at work and haven't had time to write them down. Hopefully later this week.

For now, I'm excited to be in the second trimester. Mainly just because it's a quick and easy way to mark of the passage of time -- some time has passed, and now there is less to go. Certainly not because I have any sense of safety. I am also starting to look fatter (not so much p-word, but I look especially lumpy if I wait to long to pee), so I'm realizing that we should probably start telling more people before they ask. If anyone has any creative suggestions, let me know. We were hoping to be able to tell people as we see them, but the next time we'll see one of our groups of friends is at a baby shower for one of them, and that just feels like the wrong place to tell people -- it's not my damn event. And a lot of our other friends live far away, and we're not likely to see them for a long time.

Separately, I had my monthly pee-in-a-cup/blood-pressure-check/weigh-in appointment yesterday, and it was pretty uneventful, which was fantastic in itself. I've gained 2 pounds so far, though I think it looks like more -- I loathe bloating. I heard the heartbeat again -- 158bpm. Everything seemed fine, which felt surreal. They set up my next three appointments while I was there, which seems very future-oriented, which still seems strange to me. Assuming I'll still be pregnant in late May seems decidedly optimistic and wholly inconsistent with the uber-guarded and reserved approach I've been taking about this whole affair.

They also told me to call today to schedule my "big ultrasound" for the week of April 14. The echoes continue for me between this pregnancy and the last -- my due date for the last was April 13, and that same week we'll get to find out if this one has all his/her necessary parts. And my due date continues to be September 14, which is one year to the day after the D&E. Strange.

12w6d

So our internet connection is finally up and stable again (plus, Com*cast put in a new cable modem and phone line today), so there may be another flurry of posts from me.

Last Monday, at 12w1d, I had my NT scan. We weren't sure we were going to do it, but decided to do it in part because our insurance said they'd cover it (here's hoping they actually do) and we wanted the extra peek at the baby. We went to a different ultrasound place than last fall and were much happier with the experience, and not just because of the better outcome. They had snacks and drinks and magazines. The wait was short, the staff was friendly, and the place just felt more welcoming -- less like a factory and more like a place I didn't mind spending time.

Everything looked good. The baby looked like a baby. It was pretty unbelievable. The heartrate was 167. S/he had two legs and two arms, and at least one hand with all its fingers (we didn't get as good a look at the other). S/he looked a bit cramped up in there, so after a while the tech had me empty my bladder, after which s/he was moving all over the place, stretching and doing what P was sure were sit-ups. We got to spend 30 full minutes watching him/her move around. I most definitely cried a little. And we got five pictures. Here are two:

The tech thought the first was a better profile shot, but this one sorta cute since s/he's sucking his/her thumb (or at least putting hand to mouth):

Feeling like a Hobbit

I had a bowl of cereal for breakfast at 7:30, which is not an uncommon breakfast for me. Normally this tides me over until 11, at which point I begin the countdown until it's an acceptable hour for lunch (that acceptable hour has gotten earlier and earlier lately. My high school had a lunch period at 11:20, which has apparently affected my judgment). Today, by 10, my stomach was growling, making second breakfast necessary. I'm currently working on a piece of whole grain toast and a yogurt.

Separately, I waited for P to leave for work this morning and pulled out the doppler. I found the heartbeat right away (as in within seconds), in the same spot as Monday, but with less of my own mixed in. DBTs are subsiding a bit. I also slept a lot better the last two nights, which is helping as well.