Some weeks blow

This hasn't been the best week.

My OB is leaving. For good. This week. I have mixed feelings. I don’t like her has much as I liked Dr. L who held my hand through infertility and saw me through my pregnancy with E (she left last summer to return to her home state). I knew that Dr. T was leaving as far back as January, but she assured me that I would be “in good hands” for the final weeks of my pregnancy and I decided not to find a new practice. Big mistake. My last appointment with her was Thursday and she once again assured me that the OB who is replacing her is great and will do a good job. However, when I went to check out and make my 37 week appointment with the new OB, the scheduler said, “Oh, Dr. S doesn’t start until August 15. You’ll have to see someone else until then.” Then she informed me that no one was available next week.

When I protested, the scheduler found a spot for me for next Friday afternoon with Dr. A, who I have not yet met. He is fresh out of medical school and is not even board certified. I’m mortified. And the week after? I’ll see whoever can take me. I don’t really like being without an assigned doctor right now. I have no idea who to call with questions. No one knows my medical history. This is NOT how I planned to finish out my pregnancy.

It doesn’t help that the other doctors in the practice are all men. First, I prefer a female OB who has had children. If I say, “I feel like this child is going to fall out of my butt,” I want my doctor to nod empathetically and say, “Oh yes, that rectal pressure is something, isn’t it?!” rather than referring me to the nearest psychologist. Second, if I have an embarrassing question, “I am suddenly horny/frigid/purple” I want to be able to ask it without having to look at the floor. Finally, I’m having pelvic exams each week at this point. I find that excruciating enough once a year with a female OB/GYN. I’m going to need prenatal Valium for this.

As I was learning that this was my last appointment with Dr. T, I learned that I have a UTI. The routine urine dip revealed this and, looking back, it makes sense. I had blamed my extreme fatigue, round the clock weeing, and killer low back pain on the baby (sorry baby!). I’m glad it’s being treated, but it hasn’t made my week any better. I’m somewhat disappointed that the antibiotic has not turned my urine bright yellow/orange as promised by the pharmacist. I don’t know why the promise of neon pee excited me, but it did. Maybe I'm just perverse.

We’ve also had a time with E this week. After seven ear infections and a slightly abnormal hearing test, E had tubes placed in her ears yesterday. This is good news, really. I think we will be happy to have the tubes. However, she is one pissed-off little kid right now. It started off well enough. The anesthesiologist brought in a cocktail of Tylenol and Versed, which made E the most entertaining 22-month old on the planet. She’s going to be a fun drunk one day, I’m afraid. We were charmed.

Of course all good things must come to an end, and for us that end came quickly, when E woke in the recovery area. How a child goes from drunken charmer to Mr. Hyde in the course of 15 minutes, I do not know. But I can report that she cried and screamed for hours yesterday. We figured she would be better today, but she woke up with the sniffles and was running a fever of 102 by this afternoon. Now her ears hurt AND she is blowing snot bubbles. It isn’t good. I’m worried for her and will take her to our pediatrician in the morning if this continues. My fear is that the new tubes are blocked and are not doing their job. It doesn’t seem like a cold should cause a high fever.

Finally, there was the lactation class that wasn't. I decided that in order to get better treatment/ more attention from the lactation consultants, that I would sign up for a breastfeeding class this time. I had supply issues when E was born that were probably related to my high blood pressure so I want to be proactive this time. I showed up in room 336 of the main hospital this morning as instructed. I was the only one there. After some investigation, it turns out that the idiot scheduler put me in a class that doesn’t meet until the last Saturday of AUGUST--after the baby is born. The class that met this month met two days ago on Thursday evening. I was free Thursday. Maybe I’m just not supposed to breastfeed.

I guess I’m totally hormonal because I started bawling the moment I set foot out of the hospital. That’s just the kind of week it has been. Next week will be better, right?

Shhh. . . Don't tell my husband

I want another baby after this one.

There is no rational reason for this. In fact there are many reasons to argue against it.

• This pregnancy has been difficult physically.
• I've worried from the moment the second pink line appeared on the stick.
• Being a good mom to a toddler and being pregnant have been tough.
• We don't have the space for any more children.
• We don't have enough money to raise another.
• Have you seen the projections for the cost of college by the time these two are ready?
• Four years of changing diapers is probably quite enough.
• We will be in our sixties by the time we launch the two we have.
• My FSH makes another child unlikely.

But still, there is a sense of sadness as I approach the end of this pregnancy. I don't want to believe that this is it. That we are done.

Where does this desire for children come from anyway? Is it hardwired? Do men have it? Does the sadness of having closed the door ever go away?

The Pregnancy Waddle

I was always told that the waddle was from a combination of the baby's position and the relaxation of the pelvis. Today, as I wiped away drops of sweat on my way into Costco I suddenly realized that this is bunk.
My waddle? I don't like the sensation of my very fat, maternal thighs rubbing together.

35 weeks!

I am 35 weeks today. Hooray! Only two more weeks until I'm term. At last week's appointment my OB predicted I won't go a full 40 weeks. That both terrifies me and excites me.

Terrifies me because if I were to go into labor tomorrow, we would not quite be prepared. There is no nursery. While I know we only need a bassinet, some pampers, a stack of onesies, and some formula in case my milk fails to come in again, a little more preparation would be good. Also, I know that babies born after 35 weeks tend to do very well, but I think they should bake a little longer. Jaundice, respiratory distress and feeding issues are still concerns.

Excites me because I am tired of being pregnant. I feel huge. My thighs are alarmingly fat. I'm starting to get sausage toes. The baby has a foot jammed up under my rib cage and (damn!) it hurts. I'm also getting rammed in the cervix on a regular basis. Think of French soccer hero Zidane's head-butt of his Italian opponent and you may get the picture. Then, there are the hemorrhoids. They are so bad that sitting down is a little painful. My back hurts. My calves seize up in middle-of-the-night-what-the-hell-is-going-on cramps. The kicker is that I am contracting at least every 10 minutes and sometimes as frequently as every 3-5 minutes. It hasn't progressed to real labor, but it is a nuisance at best and painful at worst. I'm up at this very late hour because of the contractions.

Still, I am grateful to be pregnant, I truly am. With my FSH in the stratosphere, the thyroid and autoimmune issues, this baby is a miracle in so many ways.

34 weeks 5 days

A quick recap of the last several weeks:

• I ended up in labor and delivery at 32 weeks because of contractions and bleeding. The doctors stopped the contractions with terbutaline and decided that the bleeding was just a pesky cervical polyp.
• The real story with the hospital adventure is J's story. E had to stay home for a few days because she had a reaction to Omnicef, the antibiotic prescribed for her most recent ear infection. The reaction consisted mainly of horrible diarrhea and an appalling diaper rash. While I was getting an IV and shot of terbutaline, J took her to the hospital cafeteria and attempted to keep her busy. At some point he noticed the oozing brown stain on her shorts and realized that she had a blowout diaper. He took her to the men's room to change her and to attempt to wash her shorts. While he was busy trying to wash poo from shorts, he noticed that E had wandered over to a urinal and was exploring its basin with her bare hands. When he picked me up, he was one stressed out man.
• The contractions returned three hours after I was released from labor and delivery. Apparently, I have an irritable uterus, because I contract about every 5-10 minutes. It is only just now starting to have any effect on my cervix. My OB said she thinks I'll make it to 37 weeks, but doesn't see me going 40. Of course, Lindy, has been contracting like this since early in the third trimester and is nearing 40 weeks, so who knows. I can't imagine continuing like this for another five weeks. It hurts, man.
• E is doing well in daycare. She has only had one daycare illness, a cold, and seems happy. I like her teachers and have been happy with the director and staff.
• Since I could possibly deliver early, I've focused on getting prepped for the baby this weekend. Went shopping for new onesies, bought pacifiers, new nipples for the bottles, have located the bassinet and bassinet sheets, found the sling, and looked into My Brest Friend. Even though I am exhausted, my goal is to make sure that the house is semi-neat before going to bed every evening, just in case I have to rush to the hospital.
• We are doing a very careful furniture swap this Wednesday. J will take the guestroom (nursery-to-be) furniture and our queen-sized bed to his parents who are rumoured to be building a mountain house. I ordered a king-sized platform bed and very expensive mattress. The mattress should arrive on Wednesday and the bed will come sometime in the next week. J has been sleeping in the guestroom for a while because I am pretty obnoxious with my nest of pillows, pregnancy snoring, and many trips to the loo. Hoping the extra space on the new bed will help things because we won't have an extra bed for long.
• I've done nearly nothing on the text. I had a coauthor who backed out because the publisher was impossible to work with. To be honest, the project totally overwhelms me and I resent the time it takes away from nesting. And napping.
• I've become a LOST addict. We rented season one and now I am a big enough nerd that I know season two will be released on September 5.
• No signs of preeclampsia yet!