Kissed a lot of Frogs, Part I. 7-9-11

I'm sitting here drinking an Icee, playing a little computer solitaire, and watching Pineapple Express. What more could a person want in life? Pineapple Express reminds me... Mom's quip on my road to single motherhood is that I 'kissed a lot of frogs but none turned out to be princes.' Yep, lots of Internet dating for several years, sometimes dating 3 different guys in the same week. It's not something that I'm proud of, but it did take significant effort on my part. At least I had endurance! Lots of stories...

I went to see Pineapple Express with a guy who lived near King's Island. You could see the King's Island Eiffel Tower from his porch. You know, he was nice enough, but it just never seemed to click. At least the movie was good, and he did okay at the Turkish restaurant. On the other hand, I dated a guy who took me to see the Departed after I said I didn't like that type of movie. I walked out of the theatre as white as a ghost. Not a great movie for those with vasovagal syncope accompanied by blood phobia. Well, he was nice enough otherwise. When he showed me around his new house, he had Star Wars figures on his mantelpiece and no curtains in his bedroom. Hm.

Then, there was the Russian physicist. Yep, I seriously dated a Russian physicist for several months. He actually was fairly reasonable in appearance and conversation. He liked to eat at this authentic Japanese restaurant where the menu was written in Japanese and you could eat on pillows on the floor in little rooms. He actually had decent taste in food. I remember trying to eat at the Japanese restaurant when I was allergic to fish... I ended up eating raw duck, I think. The meat wasn't bad, but the fat was hard to swallow. He was very frustrated with my command of chopsticks. Uh, I kinda have a touch of arthritis here, not the easiest thing! The food was getting to my mouth; what's the problem here? I remember we walked out to our cars after dinner one night, and I asked him if he wanted a kiss... And he looked at me like I'm crazy and asked me, 'what?' OUCH! Trust me, his command of English was just fine. Yeah, so we went out once or twice after that, but I just wasn't into it anymore. I didn't even kiss that frog!

Little Chocolate Baby. 7-24-11

Consult: Rule out OI. That's medical genetic/dysmorphology short hand that says many things. First, it's a consult; we will need to see someone at the hospital. There has been an acute event. Rule out is a differential diagnosis. It means that we have a hypothesis about what they have. Usually, you want to rule out the most severe or critical condition first. Then, OI. That's Osteogenesis Imperfecta, commonly called 'brittle bone disease'. It has a range of severity depending on type. For some, bones will break from the slightest provocation. For other types, folks can go through their whole lives and only have a few breaks.

Her skin was the color of a Hershey’s chocolate bar, and she was quiet and sweet. I looked through her chart. Mother brought the baby to the ER, claimed that her older daughter had jumped on the baby and that was what caused the bone breaks. Mother had left the ER to get a snack and never returned. She was all alone and covered in casts. Although I was new to doing consults, something told me that I wouldn't be able to rule out OI. I made my initial assessments and looked at the Xrays with my attending, Dr. W. I kept asking questions and would get gentle but frank answers. We have a magical way of looking at Xrays and ruling out OI. We could rule out OI for her; she did not have OI. And do you think we bought the story about the older sister jumping on her?

And so I left her all alone. I wanted to bring her home with me. I was single, of course, and had to occasionally skip lunch to make ends meet. There were a million reasons I couldn't. I can still see her laying there all alone in her little bed/gurney. Later, Dr. W told me that if a woman should ever want to adopt a special needs child, that she should let the MDs in the clinic know, that they could help. I guess I wear my heart on my sleeve when it comes to little ones. It's like my great aunt D says, "I don't know how anyone could hurt a child." So, now, I get more and more information that Boop is healthy, thank goodness. But I wonder what ever happened to that little chocolate baby that I wanted to bring home with me.

Taking Stock at Week 14. 7-25-11

Here is where I am at Week 14:

·         Been reading some websites explaining changes at Week 14. "Baby may be sucking it's thumb by now." Check. We saw that on the 12+ week ultrasound. Boop's hand was already going right to the mouth.

·         Still have morning sickness. Today and yesterday have been pretty rough. I've been fighting so hard. I'm relying less on Zofran, but some days, I still think I need it. Winnie is patient with me when I get sick.

·         Two words: Angular Cheilitis. Sores in the corners of my mouth. Feels like little paper cuts. Vaseline seems to help a bit. It may be caused by vitamin deficiencies, but I think I'm okay in that area. I just hope it decides to go away soon!

·         Some say that they can feel baby kicks this early. That would be hard because apparently Boop never stops kicking! Spitfire!

·         No spotting lately. The midwife said that some women may have increased vascularization and this could cause bleeding. I'll have a full physical next week; so maybe they can give me a better idea about what has been going on.

·         Tried a little hot tea this weekend. Didn't make me sick, but didn't do much for me, either. Ice cream is still practically full in the freezer. Peaches are in, Icees are out. I've been loving the Dole Peaches and Cream parfait cups.

A Little Reassurance. 7-24-11

It's been yucky morning sickness today. I went to the grocery and gulped Gatorade at the check-out hoping I could make it home without having to visit the ladies' room again at Kroger. Pringles and veggie sushi for lunch. Maybe it was too much, but I couldn't get the taste that I wanted. I spent the majority of the day on the couch; although I really needed to return a few things to the store. The unisom wasn't helping too much. I did manage to drink a little hot tea, which I hadn't had in 3 months. I got a call from the nurse from the university clinic--on a Sunday, which kind of shocked me. She was explaining my results, as I was getting a call from my great aunt D.

So, she reminded me that at my age, my risk of having a child with Down syndrome was 1 in 75. She told me that my screening results were positive for Down syndrome. However, my risk of having a child with Down syndrome had actually gone down to 1 in 210, which is a huge improvement. She said the cut off for a "positive" was 1 in 230, and I was pretty close to that. My test results have reduced my risk and are very close to the risk of having a miscarriage with amnio. That is great news. My risk of having a child with Trisomy 18 went down from 1 in about 700 to 1 in 10,000. Excellent news. Very reassuring.

I was then able to call my great aunt D back and share the good news with her. Of course, she was so happy for me. And I made a quick call to my mom who is visiting my great aunt R in CA. She wasn't as happy as I thought she would be, but I think she was shocked that my a priori risk of Down syndrome was so high (1 in 75) and a “positive” result was a little frightening. Overall, though, it was great news, and when I went over the numbers again, maybe I was able to convince her that it was.

Enough is Enough. 7-22-11

 

Well, I have had enough of the prenatal care at the university. Let's recap. July 1, high risk OB visit, I left a urine sample. As you may recall, I went to the ER later that evening and gave a urine sample. Those ER urine test results are in my chart. The ER found that I had a UTI. What happened to that sample I left at my high risk OB appointment? 

It's really tough to get blood from me. So, the ER nurse drew blood on July 1 for my blood work. She managed to get 2 vials. We waited an hour for the results. The resident checked in about 45 minutes later: "We're still waiting for some of your test results." A half an hour later, the nurse draws more blood. They lost one of the vials. I would have to wait another hour on the test results.

So, Level 2 ultrasound on July 15th. Everything is normal. The resident orders the PappA, to be done at the time of the ultrasound, and then she orders the AFP for week 16. I went to the phlebotomist. I explain there are 2 orders, and I need PappA now. Of course, she has a hard time with the blood draw. On July 20th, FIVE days later, I get a chart email message saying that I have been scheduled for a level 2 ultrasound <See 7-20-11 post>. Wrong blood test. I'm STILL waiting for those results.

So, I talk to the nurse. I ask why I'm not going to see the midwife until week 16, "Can I get in sooner?" She said, that was the next exam point. "But," I say, "I haven't had a pap or all of my prenatal testing." She starts saying that I really don't need a Pap if I've been keeping up with them. I said, "No, I'm due." She asks me to wait and then she orders the test result and says to wait until week 16 for the Pap?? Mind you, these were suppose to be done at 8 weeks!!

Then, I'm thinking, Wait. I had asked them at the July 15th appointment to double check that the UTI is gone. I left a urine sample. I looked back through my electronic chart. Where are they? I email the office. A few hours later, I get an email back. 'We don't have it. You'll have to leave another.' It's hard to believe. No wonder this state is in such bad shape.

Told my Boss. 7-21-11

I told my boss I'm pregnant yesterday. I'm still trying to process the meeting that went an hour over schedule. Overall, he was supportive. In spite of all the mental preparation I had gone through and listening to the SMC board, I wasn't prepared for some of the conversation, though. I think I recovered reasonably well.

I was ambivalent about telling him, especially this early with the problems I've been having. I had told a couple of folks at work that I was pregnant and didn't want it to accidently get out before my boss knew. More concerning, I wanted to give my boss as much notice as possible as we are losing people in our department left and right.  We are a department of far fewer than 10 (a couple of which aren't active in the department), and it looks like we will be losing 1 or 2 very soon. In particular, we are losing the person that does the same general type of research as me. So, I will wind up having to fill her role. I'll be out of commission at the beginning of spring semester, which is when she typically teaches.

G had mentioned going out to eat yesterday. My helper was here in the afternoon; so we will go out tonight. It will be helpful to get her perspective on things and to touch base.

Panic. 7-20-11

I got an email about some change to my electronic medical record. I was scheduled for ANOTHER level 2 ultrasound?? Then, I got a call on my cell. The guy on the phone was completely clueless. He said they scheduled me for tomorrow. Of course, I'm asking him WHY?!? He said, "Hold on a second." Then, I hear the sounds of our university band blaring in my ear. After a couple of minutes, I hung up.
The ultrasonographer did a fine job, told me everything was okay. So, the only thing I could figure is: (1) somehow the u/s didn't save properly or was accidentally deleted or (2) there was a problem with the blood test. It was the second that gave me pause. Worry: they found something in the PappA that they are concerned about and want to rescan for some reason... The results for the u/s will not be as valid this far along in my pregnancy. I'm 13.5 wks pregnant.
I whipped out a quick email to my mom in the panic. Re-evaluating my decision to stay with the university hospital. I went to get a bite to eat. Boop wanted some fatty beef barbeque. Lord, what this child puts me through :) Boop, barbeque isn't supposed to be sliced! I would have normally picked the barbeque chicken breast, but I guess we needed iron. I trudged through and dissected the beef. I got on the Internet and looked up the nurse midwives. Is this really what I want to do? Even though they didn't train as MD/DO's, they came from far afield and from pretty good schools and hopefully, are pretty savvy. Hm. I'd like to meet them before trying the community hospital.
I was just getting back into work when the NP called me on my cell. I had time to calm down. She explained what happened. No U/S tomorrow. What they have is fine; all is normal. The problem was the blood test. Neither of the problems that I anticipated, though. The phlebotomist sent my blood for an AFP (which can't be done for about 3 more weeks) instead of PappA. Fortunately, the lab still has enough blood to do the PappA. Best to do the nuchal and PappA at the same time. What a relief! My little ticker can't manage too many more things like this.

A New Kind of Question. 7-17-11

I stopped by my friend's office and asked if she was interested in having lunch. L and I talked a few minutes about where to go. I put the nix on Mexican; every time I've tried, I've regretted it. I wonder what Mexican women eat when pregnant? Is it any easier for them? We decided on Volcano, a new Japanese place.

I was trying to order my bento box and was having some trouble selecting sushi. She was a little surprised, as she knows how I love sushi. So, I told her my news in a quiet voice. As it sunk in what I was saying, she looked a bit like she had just seen some run naked through the parking lot and then the confusion landed in a more confident smile, saying she was happy for me. The next question was not-so-unusual but usually not the first one I hear. "When are you due?" "January 23rd." Then, she looked deep in thought, doing some mental calculations.  She said, "Your baby will be a dragon," she said with satisfaction, "It's the year of the dragon." L is Chinese and was predicting my baby's personality, and I knew the dragon is very, very good. I looked it up on the Internet. A water dragon, no less. Lucky and calm.

Then, this week, they changed my due date by ultrasound. I went in to tell L. January 19th. Before the Chinese New Year. So, my Boop will be a rabbit. But, at least it would mean Boop would be a metal rabbit, which saves the rabbit from being a doormat. At this point in my pregnancy going a few days early may not be so well-received, but I know at 8 months, as big as a house, I will start being ready for that baby to be born! I proceeded to show L my ultrasound photos. She had a very curious look on her face. I asked if she knew what she was looking at and pointed out the head and body, feet, etc. She said that she had never seen one. I said, "Oh, is it bad luck?" She said, "No, they don't let parents see them because if it was a girl, the parents might have an abortion." It was disquieting. Me, trying to get over my extra worries about having a boy... but knowing that whatever the outcome, little Boop will be greeted with much excitement and love.

Free Tibet. 7-14-11

I've had a few pretty good days. Thanks to meds, I haven't gotten really sick in a few days. I haven't had any spotting. And this morning I went for a very brief walk. But I was on a mission: I was delivering little notes to my immediate neighbors.

A little background: A chair was moved from under my awning, and now the paint is peeling. Some mats were moved in front of my house, and I poked a hole in the bottom of my foot through to the side on Derby day. Two of my fence posts were broken (probably not related). I came home from 4th of July, and some shutters had been moved. So, I typed up a note for my neighbors to alert them to these facts and to ask their help for keeping an eye on things; although I have a few strong, suspects. This morning as I was delivering them, I saw that some large, lightweight pots had been moved to the side of the house. Without thinking, I grabbed one of them to move it. It was full of water, and before it registered what I was doing, I had moved it a few feet. URGH! I am so kicking myself! I'm not feeling so hot now, after starting to feel better.

These suspects are clearly detrimental to my health. I'm a little tight on cash, but a 6 ft fence would be an obvious choice. I'm also thinking that a video camera would be helpful to document activities. Another option is putting up some of those bright orange 'no trespassing' signs. Most obnoxious, I was thinking about hanging a large (like 2 stories or a sheet) "Free Tibet" sign on the side of my house <I mean no offense, Chinese friends! or Tibetan folks, for that matter>.

Taking Account at Week 13. 7-19-11

So, here's the update at Week 13:

·         Solidly into bigger clothes. Still no word from the girls. Rib cage may be expanding, though. People say they can't tell I'm pregnant. Seriously?  

·         Living on sports drinks, sports drinks, sports drinks. Water isn't very appealing. Slushies and popsicles also still an essential food group.

·         Slowly expanding the number of folks that I tell at work. Another mentor, who is leaving soon, gave me lots of pregnancy tips. Never thought of using a rubber band through my button hole! <Would really rather have an excuse to buy more clothes.>OB that she recommendeded rarely sees OB patients anymore :(

·         Hyperemesis gravidarum is easing. Feels more like what people say is morning sickness, only mine is in the afternoon. Using less and less zofran, managing with Unisom.

·         PsA is holding steady. Feel like Frankenstein coming downstairs of a mornin'. Rheumatologist gave me a script for biologics. Trying to hold off. Hopefully won't get that bad.

·         Making a pseudo-pillow fort in bed. Afraid Winnie will pounce on me and Boop. She's been good so far.

I'm on the Run. 7-9-11

I got pulled over by a nice cop yesterday afternoon. I don't know if he could tell that I was pregnant. I wonder if he remembers me from the hit and run bump last fall? He reassured me that he didn't think he would give me a ticket that he just needed to run my license to check if there were any outstanding violations. That was a relief. My license plate was expired, I still had my license from Ohio, and I didn't have a state car inspection sticker. Man, he could've shipped me off. So, I'm not really wanting to be out on the road much. All I need is to be pulled over again. I guess I'll make a trip to the BMV on Monday morning.

The only problem is, that my birth certificate and passport are somewhere? But not in the place that I thought they were. And I need those to get a license.  So, until I can find one of them, I'm going to need to lay low. I will have to make shopping trips very brief. Otherwise, it'll be pregnant woman in the pokey!

It will be serious self-restraint while shopping to see baby stuff and not want to get something for Boop. But I keep trying to remind myself what a hard time I'm having and that I just need to focus on us getting through the day, not to think about baby clothes and gadgets. I don't even know the gender, yet. I think it's not too soon to be looking at bigger clothes for me, though. Let's face it, my undies are groaning a bit! Sorry to be so graphic, but these situations are becoming increasingly apparent. Speaking of which, it's not even 10am, and Boop is already thinking of a roast beef sandwich! I will admit that little bowl of Cheerios at 7am is wearing off. Maybe I'll mix up a few biscuits, cause that's what I want!

Shopping. 7-9-11

Today was the day I had planned to go shopping. I still may pull myself together and manage a trip. It's a bit ill-fated, though, I'm afraid. I used to love to go shopping. It was a coping mechanism for my mother and I after Dad was sick the first time. Times were a bit too tight for much shopping during college and grad school (I was an extreme couponer before it was cool), but things improved with my 1st academic job. Most of my funds were poured into my remodeling efforts, but there was a Kohl's on my brief trip back and forth to work. When there was a sale, I was there rummaging through the clearance racks.

Admittedly my love of shopping changed about 5 years ago. Every time I went to Kohl's, the next song they played over the speakers was a particular song by one of my favorite bands, every time I went. The first few times, I just dismissed it as a fluke, but when the 5th time rolled around, I started to get pretty freaked out. And later, it started to happen at Marc's too. Not that particular song, but different songs by the same band. Scared the ba-Jesus out of me. Anyway, it made shopping a lot less pleasant. Although I give the opening scene of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead some credit (the scene where they are betting on the flips of the coin, and every time the coin turns up heads, like a hundred times, by chance), it's incredibly unlikely. Definitely surreal.

And then, I woke up this morning to more spotting. It's hard to think about going shopping for baby shower gifts, when your own is having such a tough time. The shower was actually last Tuesday at work, but after spending the evening in the ER last Monday, I just couldn't get myself together for it. 3 people at one time--they don't even know about me yet. There may be a few others floating around, too. It's in the water we drink at work. They serve a special fertility water at the cafeteria. If you're having fertility issues, you should come and try some ;) Personally, at this point, I'm more concerned about the staying pregnant, than the getting pregnant, part.

Renovations. 7-1-11

Trying to get my home ready... Home renovations have been the better part of my life for the past 10 years, with the condo in grad school for genetic counseling, the house during my 1st job, and now this house. This house was definitely the bigger project. And unfortunately, there just aren't the quality and quantity of contractors here, and anyone who is decent is outrageous. In the past, I've been the main person in control of the renovation, monitoring every detail, or asking lots of questions, doing the research, checking and double checking.

The kitchen is almost done, thank goodness. One of my helpers forgot to remove the plug from the garbage disposal, so my dishwasher can't drain/won't run. I have the option of paying a plumber $70+ an hour to come out, take the disposal out, 'pull the plug', and reinstall the disposal, not great. I really wanted to get my hardwood floors sanded in the living room before I completely moved in. I'll just have to live with it for a while. Being pregnant and flooring chemicals don't mix. There's the other issue of finishing the upstairs bath, removing the wallpaper that has been apparently super glued to the wall in some places, and painting, lots of painting upstairs.

I try to think of where I might put a little Boop should one arrive ;) Boop will be too big to keep in my pocket; already too big for that! Whatever happened to babies sleeping in drawers? Isn't that what they did in Cheaper by the Dozen? Unfortunately, it's a bit safer than some of the cribs out there! Nope, Boop won't sleep in a drawer... But I do feel a little overwhelmed by all of the products for babies. It just seems to make life more complicated, a whole industry to suck pregnant women (and mercy grandmas! I know one already...) in. Will Ferrell's voice from Zoolander pops into my mind as Zoolander's walking down the runway--keep away from all the temptations. One thing my friend mentioned when she had her 1st, "You would not believe how long it just takes me to get out the door! There's all of this stuff you have to have. I never imagined." Life has become exponentially more complicated...

Taking Account at Week 12. 7-11-11

Where I am at Week 12...

·         Bump is noticeable, bigger undies. My girls haven't gotten any bigger, unfortunately. And that was what I was most eagerly anticipating! My weight hasn't changed in spite of the meds to help with nausea.

·         Still nauseous. Vomiting once a day or less with meds. Food options expanding. Humus and Icees remain staples. Still spotting, still freaks me out. Haven't fainted!

·         Energy level is low. Lose my breath climbing 2 flights of stairs for work. Come home and veg on the couch. PsA seems to be holding steady, but my dogs do bark a bit.

·         Feeling somewhat triumphant at my plan to distribute flyers to the neighbors about someone who has been messing with my stuff, eliciting all of their help to keep an eye on my property <and some unnamed neighbors who are the suspects> ;)

·         Home renovations at a stand still, as is cleaning... anything. Piles of unwashed laundry and heaps of dirty dishes. *I want to get rid of every other thing in my house.* How did my life get so complicated and messy?

·         Other than the situation with folks moving stuff on my property, people are less likely to annoy the crap out of me. Can sustain longer phone conversations and don't feel like shaking every obnoxious person I meet. Okay, strike that, just got an annoying email from a student who thinks I'm a mind reader, ready to shake people again.

12 Weeks 4 Days. 7-16-11

I'm breaking protocol and jumping ahead and planning to post this soon. I was so nervous about my first trimester screening, I could hardly sleep. I hadn't seen Boop for a couple of weeks and not under the best circumstances, a very perturbed little critter. It couldn't have been more different today. Boop was laying on his/her back, taking life in. Yes, Boop was still busy. Little arms and legs were moving around. One minute Boop with legs crossed, the next minute about to suck the thumb (photo), the next minute stretching (photo). Normal heart rythm, normal nuchal translucency, nasal bone present, normal well-attached placenta in the right location. Good, good, good, and WHEW good! All very good signs. Poor sonographer, she was trying to get some good photos of me. She almost caught Boop's legs crossed Indian style, like a little frog.

Speaking of legs crossed, the high risk OB caught me. "Don't cross your legs." Oh no, please no. I gave up caffeine, lunch meat, raw sushi, wash my raw fruit in soap and water, have suffered through morning sickness, taking crappy meds, bad spotting, all the various body changes, but you want me to give up CROSSING MY LEGS!! Miserable. How do you stop crossing your legs? That's the only way I know I how to sit. I tried crossing my legs at the ankles, but it's so uncomfortable. Anyone have any ideas?

Thank goodness, all seems to be well with my little Boop. And I'm beginning to be able to manage my morning sickness with only Unisom, B6, and lots of fruit juice/sports drinks now and haven't had a Zofran in about 4 days! So, this is what morning sickness feels like. I learned today that taco meat is out for a few more weeks; I was a little too ambitious yesterday... I'm still waiting on the results of my PappA, and I'll have my AFP in a few weeks. The high risk OB said for me to stay on the progesterone. And the resident convinced me to go to a midwife instead of an OB. Actually, I had been hearing quite a bit about this on the SMC listserve; many folks had great things to say about midwives. I'm hesitant, but it seems better than some of the other options. We'll see. Might as well try it.

OLD Friend 7-7-11

Boop is clearly a little fighter, a 'spitfire', as my mom proclaimed. I'm so proud that Boop has hung in here this long. It's really more than I could have hoped at this point in my life. I'm so grateful in spite of all of the complications. I'm functional. There are people that are in worse shape than me. What is the expression, 'full of piss and vinegar?' I'll take it!

My OLD friend S (she's 2 months older than me; so that makes her OLD) reminded me that life is unpredictable and that I need to enjoy the time that I have. We're so different. I'm the planner; she's carpe diem. It's good to check in with her from time to time to get a different perspective. I have been so careful with every little detail; re-reading my Lehman's Embryology to cautiously monitor milestones; supplementing my previous genetic counseling training with Internet images of embryos and fetuses on ultrasound; doing all of the crazy, unscientific surveys of whether I will have a girl or a boy; stressing over how on earth I could be a good momma to a little boy <note: gender still unknown!> when I have so little experience...

At some point, I just need to let nature take its course. I'm using the whole medicalization of pregnancy as a crutch because it helps me impose some control over a situation that is essentially uncontrollable. You know, it's up to the powers that be. I can't help but think that karma must work in my favor at some point. And God doesn't want to punish me. It's said that God doesn't give you a burden that He doesn't feel that you can handle. So, I can only hope that things will go well. Things will be clearer when I go for my next screen and OB visit.

I can feel the progesterone taking effect. It makes me feel a little loopy.

Mentoring Meeting. 7-7-11

"I was just thinking last night, 'I wonder what K will tell me tomorrow?'" That was my mentor's response. 

"What's new?" asked my mentor. A reared back in my seat to reveal my bump. Her eyes were as big as saucers. I think she immediately knew what I meant, but she had to catch herself and asked, "Are you....?" I confirmed that I was indeed pregnant. She was so happy for me and announced, "Oh, I want to be Aunt L!" She confessed that she was always intrigued by what I would say each month when we met. But, boy, she never expected anything like this! It was nice to see that she was so supportive and offered her help if I needed anything. "Sometimes, you just need to tell people what you need and let them take care of it." And subtly cautioned me on my ardent independence.

Of course, with her comment about my unpredictability, she had figured me out pretty quickly. In grad school, one of my roomie's looked at me and said, "C and I were just talking yesterday, and you know, we wouldn't be at all surprised if you walked up to us tomorrow and told us that you were married." I laughed. It was the truth. Of course, my dad had a not-as-kind way to put this characteristic personality trait. He was aggravated with me for some reason, and he said, "Dang <or some other choice word> K, when you get a wild hair up your a**, there's no stopping you!" And so it is. That's not to say that little Boop wasn't the product of considerable thought and effort, but after being stuck on someone for 4 years and my decreasing fertility, it finally sunk in what people were saying, that he was just making fun of me, that if he really cared for me that he would made an effort. I was just being used, I guess. Well, I'm not the first person to find myself in that situation, but I wish I were the last. 

Ah well, I'm lucky to be born in the age that I am. I can get as much education as I want, have a good shot at a decent paying job, own my own home, and be a parent without forcing myself into an unhappy relationship. Speaking of opportunities, I got a Ganesh yesterday; my student brought it back to me from India after his wedding. Apparently, Ganesh is the elephant-headed son of Shiva (the one with many arms), and Ganesh will bring me and Boop much prosperity ;) I also was greeted by a Chinese money cat at the Japanese restaurant today. All are good signs!

Insurance Agent. 7-6-11

I touched base with my insurance agent, mainly to see about getting life insurance. I made the appointment before my crazy weekend at the ER. However, I thought it would be good to get some estimates. It's pricey, but I know it's one of those things I have to do at my age and with my health. I also mentioned a couple of issues that have presented themselves with my neighbors. For one thing, my neighbors offered me $200 to cut down a tree that is on their property. Of course, it would be $1000+ to cut down that tree. The neighbor said that if the tree fell on my shed, I would be responsible. Nay say the insurance agent and underwriter. The neighbors would be negligent, especially since they knew it in advance.

One of the other more pressing issues is I suspect neighbors are moving stuff on my property. My insurance agent was amazed and had never heard the like. Neighbor has been moving my garbage can, and my mom suspects this is so that she can see into my kitchen to snoop. She just barged into my house one day, following my mom, to see my kitchen. The latest thing is that some shutters were moved. Some mats were also moved that were left from the last owner. They were rotten and apparently had a wire sticking out, which I discovered after it poked a hole through the bottom of my foot and out the side on Derby Day.

A proper response? My inclination is to build a very tall fence, which sounds good, except that I'm a bit short on funds. If I say something to them, I know I will be the source of much gossip. They may also try to retaliate. One idea is to make friends with their neighbors who put up the fence, to learn more about who they used, etc. Neighbors will be very upset if I put up a fence as they complained about their neighbor who put up the fence. Their front door faces the side of their neighbor's house, and their back door faces the side of mine. So, their front door does not face the street. They go back to FL for the winter in December through April. I figure I can make some headway in that time. I need to get the surveyor out to just know what the boundaries are, and well, I need to win the lottery, I guess.

Some Reassurance. 7-6-11

Tuesday was a wash. I took the progesterone and was completely out for several hours. Poor Boop. All of these drugs. You know, I wonder if, with all of these problems, there might be a chromosome problem. But if it's a healthy baby, I just hate the thought of losing a healthy baby. I'll just keep fighting until I learn that it's not a viable pregnancy.

I missed the baby shower for 3 women that I work with. It was probably for the best. I really didn't have a chance to get baby shower gifts, and all of that happy baby talk would have been a bit difficult considering my circumstances. With the rest, I didn't have any more spotting. The morning sickness is lightening up a bit but still there. In some ways, the awful morning sickness is reassuring. In my mind, it means that Boop is still plugging along.

I had posted a note on the SMC website. One of the women was more reassuring, telling me that the drop in HCG was normal at this stage in the pregnancy, and that a lower HCG doesn't really mean anything. So, that made me feel a bit better. The blood is a problem. I have a more advanced ultrasound in a week. Hopefully, everything will be clearer then.

ER, Take 2. 7-4-11

The nurse just came in and said they would need to re-run the blood tests. Another pelvic exam <cringe>. A holiday stuck in the ER. At least I got a break for the weekend to take a quick trip to KY. Another HCG to confirm Boop is growing. Man, Boop is BIG. I'm already showing at 11 weeks. No, it's really not twins! I wonder if Boop has an overgrowth syndrome. More likely just big like many others in the family. I have several cousins who were born in the 10-13 lb. range. It just hurts to think about. Let's just focus on a healthy baby, healthy baby. If it has a huge head, it will be painful, but hopefully full of brain and brain potential.

So, what will I learn tonight? I'm much too nonchalant. But the truth is that I'll know nothing new. I still won't know why I'm bleeding. Poor Boop. It's not for the fact that your momma didn't try. And I'm sorry about the pelvics, which I know piss you off. And I'm sorry for all of the ultrasounds that put your private little world on display. Sins of omission vs. sins of commission. Which is worse? My intentions are good. I'm trying hard not to lose you. I called the nurse before coming to the ER who basically said it didn't make much sense to come in unless there was a lot of blood--so we don't bleed to death--or unless I was passing tissue--which would clearly mean that I had a miscarriage. I called Mom to let her know I got home and mentioned the blood, she told me to go to the ER.

Amazingly enough, they took me right back in the ER. However, I still waited forever. This resident was struggling. I think it was his 1st week, as the new residents start July 1. This poor guy looked like he had just walked into a war zone unarmed. He took notes in a notebook. He was really trying, but admitted that he really didn't know what he was doing. At least, he was honest. The nurse was nice enough at first, but then he needed to draw blood. I warned him that I was a hard stick and don't like diggers. He tried 2 different times, and I asked him if he could find someone else. He lost his temper on the way out, and slung his rubber glove in another room. The next woman that came quickly found one on the other side of my wrist and got an IV in just fine. Very painful, but it was in.

So, the resident needed help from a more advanced resident on how to use the ultrasound. I talked them out of the pelvic and transvaginal ultrasound. I knew the resident would be doing it, and I would just be a guinea pig. About an hour later, the attending came in. He told me that the bleeding was not a good sign. He said that my HCG had dropped. That really upset me. Later, I asked the resident if there was any kind of intervention, and he seemed pretty helpless. About an hour later, in walks my high risk OB! with blood shot eyes and a resident in tow. I was shocked and was a bit discombobulated. Something about a placental tear. He put me on progesterone due to my age. I was happy to have something. It was something. At least I felt like I was doing something.

The Name Game 7-4-11

Chuck, Chuck, Bo, Buck, Banana, Fana, Fo... you get the idea. The Name Game! Tell someone you're pregnant and discussion begins to center around names. That's neither a good thing nor a bad thing, simple pregnancy conversation.

I remember when I went to get Winnie from Mom's house, and she wanted to "help" me pick out a name. I had heard enough about Winnie's exploits already and picked out the name LuLu because she was... a little LuLu. LuLu was also one of my favorite dolls when I was little. And Mom thought that was a terrible name. And so it wound up being Winnie.

And so I made the mistake of telling my mom and aunts the nick name of my little fetus: Boop. Boop, the Bump. There are lots of Peanuts, and Lima Beans, and Little Peas, and such floating around out there. And Boop is very gender neutral and was Betty's last name. Mom said I would need to pick a better name. She said she was going to call the baby Bop. Isn't Bop the name of one of the Teletubbies? My aunt D said Boop sounds like Poop. Hm.

Anyway. I have some real names circulating. But Aunt D brings up an important point when naming, a point that Homer Simpson knew well. You can't pick a name that kids will make fun of. Which is why he naturally chose "Bart" as the name of his son. He went through the alphabet, but unfortunately, he missed the "F". Which brings me to the point I raised with my aunt D.: kids are going to make fun of other kids, no matter what.

And so Boop will stay Boop as far as I'm concerned, as it's been for the last 9 weeks. I should have just continued to keep little Boop's name a secret. Just between me and my little fetus. If we make it, I'll have to come up with a real birth certificate name. I have a few names in mind. I really need to keep my mouth shut about those though. If it's bad, people will just shoot it down. If it's good, someone else will swipe it ;)

"A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches." Just a little pressure!

1st Visit to the ER. 7-2-11

I had my high risk OB appt in the afternoon, and during the course of the 2+ hours I was there, my nausea meds wore off; then I was sick for the better part of the afternoon. At home, I needed to go to the bathroom. Bright red blood. Panic. Put my clothes back on. Told Winnie to be a good girl. Grabbed my purse. Jumped in the car. Raced to the ER--stop signs, stop signs. Computed the best entry to the ER and raced to the reception desk. "I'm pregnant and just had bright red blood!" Gave her my name, my DOB. The receptionist told me to be seated and wait to be called. To frantically race and to wait. They will call me quickly. That was about 7pm. I was registered about 7:30pm. "How much longer?" "Well, there's 30 beds and 36 people. There are 5 people waiting." "Okay, thank you." At 8:00pm, they said 2 more people ahead of me. At 8:30pm, 'just one.'

Then, some guy with an ace bandage on his hand came in, sat down, and was called immediately back. That's when I lost it, what's going on?? Oh, he went to "Rapid Care." I blurted out, "Uh, I want this 'Rapid Care'. Why can't I be treated? I've been waiting 2 hrs!" The receptionist said that I could talk to the triage nurse. And of course I did ;) I said, "How much longer is it going to be? I've been waiting 2 hours!" "You're number 3." I was furious then. Don't they care if I'm having a miscarriage?? 

I walked back to my seat. The lady sitting across from me was trying to settle me down, saying something like nobody knows how bad some people feel, probably thinking I had some sort of GI or emotional problem since I had been teary-eyed on and off. Then, she went on to tell me that her husband had been on a 4 wheeler, hit a ditch, and got a gash on his leg and bruised vertebrae. She was trying. Finally, I said, "I'm pregnant and had heavy bleeding. I could be having a miscarriage." She seemed confused but sympathetic. That's probably more information than she wanted. 

I decided to text my friend, G, from work and see if she was still at the office. My mind didn't want to compute that it was after 8pm and unlikely even for G to be there. Although I spent many-a-night alone at the ER, I gladly accepted her offer to come. She arrived a little after 9pm. They took me back not long after. The resident came immediately to me as I was walking in. He wasn't salivating that I could see, but you could tell that he thrived on these sorts of cases. Not long afterwards, he did a pelvic exam <miserable> and then the transvaginal ultrasound. He had the ultrasound monitor turned toward him. Quickly, he did a brief scan. I heard a few swishes of the Doppler. He turned the screen towards me. And there was Boop. The heart was racing. And there were these little arms and legs flailing everywhere.  Boop was still there. Still alive and KICKING. Wow, look at those legs and feet flying around. The heart rate was zipping along at 170+ bpm. And that strange little face, like a little alien creature, typical 11 week old.

The attending MD, who I knew from a class she taught, came in to tell me everything looked good. She joked that the fetus was doing the macharena. I kind of laughed to myself. Nope not dancing. Boop was MAD. Boop looked like s/he was having a little temper tantrum. I was seeing a bit more of a little personality. And that all comes from my Dad's side. A little spitfire. The attending said usually when they see fetuses at that age, they are typically sleeping and very sedate. Not Boop. Everything seemed clear. I had a urinary tract infection, and for who knows how long? Maybe most of the blood was from the UTI?

Post-high Risk OB Visit 7-1-11

Well. There's good news and not-so-good news. Good news: the OB and Resident were not concerned about the spotting <This wasn't the final verdict: more on that later>. Not-so-good news: I don't have any additional information. I still don't feel comfortable telling people because I don't know how viable the pregnancy is. There is still a good chance at my age that there could be a chromosomal problem. And actually, the visit left me more perplexed than I already was.

The high risk OB didn't really think it was worthwhile to follow me. He thought that things were pretty normal, which I should accept as good news. So, now I need to find an OB. I spent most of my time talking to the Resident, picking her brain. I have 3 options:

Option 1: OB resident clinic. The resident clinic is overseen by an attending (faculty MD). Some challenges here. I went to the family medicine resident clinic, and the resident treated me like I was lying to her. Very uncomfortable. I'm not sure how different the OB resident clinic would be. Also, there is no guarantee of getting the resident each time. Neither the resident nor patient have much control. Further, there is the issue of working with someone less experienced. I want to feel confident in my MD's ability. The attending can usually catch things, but what if the OB turns out to be the GYN I had that was so highly-strung? 

Option 2: OB at teaching hospital where I saw the high risk OB. I would have the continuity of care of having a single OB throughout the pregnancy. However, delivery would still be the same: lots of OB residents and an OB that is the luck of the draw. Again, I could wind up with the GYN that would make me nervous.

Option 3: Move to a GYN at the nearby hospital. I would get more one-on-one attention. I would have to leave campus to drive to apts. No residents and MDs would likely be more experienced. I would probably not have my choice of MDs at delivery, either. But, I guess I should check with them about delivery. The facilities are a little nicer.

We scheduled my prenatal testing in 2 weeks. It's wearing on me, trying to keep hyperemesis gravidarum under wraps. I have so little energy, and it's hard for me to stick out the work day. I've only told one person at work. There are 3 pregnant ladies at work now, and I bet they would have recommendations. I guess I should talk to one of them to get their take on things.

Troublemaker 7-1-11

I can already tell. Boop is a troublemaker ;) Ah the trouble this one gets me into! Yesterday, it was an ad for a 3 Musketeers candy bar. I really don't have much of a taste for sweets, strangely enough, and I can't figure out why I was drawn to the ad for the 3 Musketeers. 'But, Boop, don't you realize that I'm lactose intolerant??' And then there was the ad for Reese's peanut butter cups. 'Boop, why do you pay so much attention to these chocolate ads?' I'm not joking when I say that I haven't had a taste for sweet. Lactose free ice cream is sitting in the freezer. I was eating it with my breakfast cereal when I ran out of milk, but I really haven't had much interest in it. It's usually gone in 2 days, but I've had it over 2 weeks.

And this morning Burger King was advertising for $1.04 chicken sandwiches, but it doesn't start until tomorrow, of course. That didn't keep Boop from radaring in on it. 'Tomorrow, Boop, we'll have all the chicken sandwiches you want. The special is all weekend.' I thought I would satisfy Boop with a schwarma from the Middle Eastern restaurant across the street, but I guess it's already closed down for good. (To be honest, the baklava I tried from there was really stale; so I wasn't expecting much from the schwarma.)

On the way down the street, Boop was really wanting a Subway sandwich. No Boop. Our immune system isn't strong enough. There's a risk of listeria. That would be a blow out! So, I caved in to Boop's original idea, doting momma that I am, and got Boop a chicken sandwich from Wendy's. <So what is it with everyone calling me "Honey" all of the sudden? The woman at Wendy's called me Honey, and it seems like a lot of other people have been lately, too. I don't look pregnant. Maybe I just look like I'm starving to death, ahem Boop.> So the sandwich calmed Boop down, but in all honesty, Boop could've eaten another one... Rotten. It would've just made me sick. Boop is always pressing my luck when it comes to food. That poor little Zofran is working over time. Might I remind you, little Boop, about the hyperemesis gravidarum?

I think it's the Paw-Paw in Boop coming out. T*R*O*U*B*L*E. I recognize it when I see it. Always trying to get me into trouble. Those of you who knew my Paw-Paw know what I mean. Right now, Boop could sit and eat a sack of White Castles, which would make me terrifically sick. No black bananas, Boop. That's where I draw the line. So far, Boop hasn't shown any inclination for overly ripe bananas, thank heavens, but I shouldn't mention it as it will bring it to pass. You know Paw-Paw would joyfully take credit for such rotten meanness and then would try to figure out how to get Boop to torment me more!

Planning for the 1st OB visit 7-1-11

My first OB visit is this afternoon. Fortunately, I have plenty to keep me busy in the meantime. I have a ton of transcripts to prepare for data analysis. Ending this grant has had me on edge for the past 2 months. Add hyperemesis gravidum, a grant submission, and a grant review, and you have a hot mess. Oh and add to that the stress of spotting. The morning sickness is terrible, but I've got to say the spotting worries me the most. That's number one on my list to discuss with the OB. (And excuse me for being graphic, but number 2 is, well, number 2. Unfortunately, they probably go together).

I had my first spotting episode the Sunday before last, associated with some cramping. I called in to the general OB line, but the physician on call never called me back :( Spotting can be a serious symptom, and the OB on call should have at least tried to call me back. Monday morning, the nurse at the RE's office just told me to rest. Then, there was the episode last Saturday. Mom called right after it happened. She got so upset the previous time that I couldn't tell her this time and tried to get off the phone quickly.

I keep telling myself what I read. Once you see the heartbeat, there's only a 10% chance of miscarriage. Only 50% of those with spotting will have a miscarriage. Light spotting during the first trimester is not uncommon. Spotting can be due to many things, which are not indicative of impending miscarriage.

But then, I'm reminded of other facts. I have to keep my job, keep up with my dog, and have to have clean dishes and clothes. So, although I can take it easy, bed rest this early is really not going to work too well. I've had severe GI problems since my adolescence, made worse during arthritis flare ups, and pregnancy will only make these problems worse.  I'm not a young woman (as someone pointed out I'm "too old") and the risk of a chromosome abnormality is elevated. Chromosome abnormalities frequently end in miscarriage. So, I need to be realistic.

Hopefully, my visit to the OB will help to allay some of my fears. I still woke up with nausea, which is a 'good' sign under the circumstances. I'm guessing he'll have a look on the ultrasound to check on everything. Fingers crossed that this will go well. It's been 2 weeks from my last one. And another source of mother's guilt: there was an article in a midwifery journal associating ultrasound with increased risk of autism. I don't think it has ever been substantiated with any real data (midwives aren't a source I would expect to support the medicalization of pregnancy), but I always try to remember 'Moderation in all things.' Why take the chance just to alleviate anxiety? So, I'll just have to see how it goes.

Winnie 6-30-11

Miss Winnie, my first child. What a crazy little dog! My mom's friend's sister in TN had a litter of yorkie-poo mixes. A great breed for someone with allergies like myself. My roomie from Brazil in grad school had strongly advised me to get a female dog because they are better protection, and I had heard from other sources that they are easier dogs in general... He he! At 9 lbs, she IS a pretty fierce mop of hair. Mom's friend checked and double checked that I wanted a female. There were only 2, and the males looked just like Yorkies. Nope I wanted a female.

I had been a foster human for a very typical Schnauzer who was actually pretty easy going. Of course, I think that now. My only real dog experience. Yep, I was not at all prepared for Winnie. Apparently, I later learned that she was known as the ring-leader of the brood, and not the ring-leader of good behavior. Mom said that when they went to get her, they had put her and the other dogs in a tall box in the back of the car. They stopped at the drive through for a hamburger, and the next thing they knew, Winnie was practically in their lap trying to eat the hamburger.

And when I got her home. I was so afraid to leave her to go to work. I reasoned that it would be best if I blockaded her in the kitchen. I was only gone a couple of hours to show my face at work. I came home and rushed to the kitchen. NO WINNIE! I was panic-stricken, totally freaked out. I ran around my tiny 1 bedroom apartment. I could not find my 3 pound ball of fur. She drowned in the toilet! NO, thank goodness. I started hollering for her, hoping she would recognize her name and come to me. I went to my bedroom, and she looked up at me with sleepy eyes. She had been napping in my bed and was largely un-phased by all my uproar.

Not long after that, I had lost track of Winnie for a few minutes. Oh no, what's she gotten into now! I got up to look for her. I heard a "crunch, crunch, crunch" sound. What on earth. I followed my ear to the GARBAGE CAN. At 3 ft tall, I didn't figure I had to worry about her getting into it. Well, I guess the typical concern is that a dog will knock it over the trash and root around for stinky, nasty food and make a mess. Somehow, Winnie managed to get up into the top of the trash can without knocking it over. And she was marching, marching around the top of it in a circle. Fortunately, this event did not cause too much of a mess.

At 9, Winnie still thinks she is very much a puppy, just as playful and rambunctious. And I'm wondering how this whole baby thing will work out. Winnie can be down-right mean if you try to take something away from her, which has earned her the moniker "Vicious" from her aunt Debbie--"Winifred Vicious". I'm just seeing Boop reaching for a toy from Winnie and getting a smart bite on the hand <cringe>. Can't we all just get along? I'm thinking separate playpens--a Winnie playpen and a Boop playpen. Winnie went to Puppy Training, and we even have had private interventions. Me, very inexperienced dog human; she, Satan spawn. She has made a lot of progress, but we could only go far. So, we'll just try to deal with, er, Boop, in the best way we know how.

ADDENDUM 7-13-11, 6:00am: I just got an email from my mom. She said that this blog about Winnie sounds really mean, that "You should add how loveable and how smart she is. She really wants attention. She is still the baby for now." Alright. So since she won't comment, there you go. Fair and balanced, just like Fox News ;)

High Risk OB 6-29-11

I just got an automated call to confirm my 1st high risk OB appointment. Boy, I'm a problem waiting to happen, and this OB has no idea what he's getting himself into! At least, he'll be more familiar with dealing with tough cases! I'm trying to remember how many chronic conditions I have. It's the combination of AMA, as it's known to genetic counselors (advance maternal age), and psoriatic arthritis (PsA) that is landing me on his doorstep. I'm actually quite relieved to have the added care. I was hoping my RE would suggest it, but my rheumatologist wound up being the source of referral.

I wonder what will happen during this first visit. I'll be a few days early for first trimester screening, I think. I am really anxious to see the results, anxious in the eager sense, and anxious in the nervous sense. Being my age, I know that my risk just keeps increasing everyday for a chromosome abnormality. There are very few that can survive--Trisomy 21 (Down syndrome) and sex chromosome problems. Sometimes 13 and 18 can survive, but they really aren't able to interact socially. The screening test primarily looks for Trisomy 21 and 18. When I was in genetic counseling school, they were just starting to do ultrasound screening to measure nuchal translucency as a screening for Down. Basically, they are measuring the accumulation of fluid behind the baby's neck. It's done before week 13 because that is when the lymph system develops and takes that fluid away. It apparently has good predictive value. When I was training, I believe it was accompanied by biochemical blood tests for beta-HCG and PappA, and now I think they only do one (beta-HCG?) as the predictive quality is so good.

I've already prepared myself for a baby with Down syndrome. When I was in the genetic counseling program, I used to volunteer to help with the Buddy Walk. Children with Down syndrome are just as sweet as can be, for the most part ;) I've met some amazing little ones in clinic, including a precious little girl--I hope I'm not saying too much. I walked in to see this beautiful little toddler all dressed in pink. Before the MD (I've worked with some amazing dysmorphologists...) came in, I told the mother that she would need to undress the toddler down to her diaper. As she undressed her, she was telling me about how the baby nearly died because she had not been diagnosed with Down syndrome <WOW, how did the pediatrician/PCP miss it?!?>. They air-lifted the baby to an <unnamed> hospital who immediately knew she had Down and fixed her right up. Anyway. I looked over at the little girl, and she had a wonderful smile on her face. She pooched her belly out and was rubbing it frantically. I turned and gave a strange look to her mother. She smiled and said, "She's rubbin' her punkin'. She gets that from her daddy." I laughed and said, "Oh, okay." <My dad's fave nickname for me was punkin', not sure if I told her that.> She continued, "We're proud of that belly. We worked awful hard to get that pumpkin' to grow." I left the exam room and saw her father sitting outside, who had an um, er, rather large punkin'. He looked up at me. And I said, "She was rubbin' her punkin' for us," and he just grinned from ear to ear. What a lovely family. They understood. What we really want are happy, healthy babies. Oh, and now the pregnancy hormones are kicking in, and I'm fighting tears. <Well to be honest, I can’t blame the pregnancy hormones. This story usually makes me misty-eyed.>