No credit for time served

Julie over at A Little Pregnant came up with this concept, refuting the idea that if you've suffered with infertility, your subsequent pregnancy and birth should be smooth sailing. And although my first pregnancy wasn't as tough as some women's, and eventually had a good outcome, it wasn't exactly a dream cruise, either.

This time around, I've been expecting all along to be hit by not only my old battery of symptoms and side effects, but a whole new barrage of uncomfortable experiences. And at 34 weeks 4 days, I'm still waiting.

Sure, I've had a mild recurrence of restless leg syndrome, but it's been very sporadic and hardly worth mentioning. And some days my hands seem a little puffy and stiff, but I've avoided the carpal tunnel and ulnar neuropathy that made my upper extremities numb, useless stumps last time. The only real condition of concern is my anemia. At this point, my hemoglobin is up to 10.6, so it has been creeping upward, just incredibly slowly. And the most recent bloodwork I had done was not reassuring to the PA, who at this weeks appointment asked me to up my iron to twice a day, although she noted, "sometimes all that does is double the side effects without really increasing the absorption," so I'll be having bloodwork done again this coming week. She rattled off the entire results of my most recent bloodwork, but most of it meant nothing to me. The one alarming thing she mentioned and -- sort of -- explained was that my "stores" were at 6, when they should be over 100. I've subsequently been trying to figure out exactly what that means, but I can't. (Could she be referring to the mean cell volume? I have no idea...) She did say that if things don't look up, she might refer me to a hematologist.

I feel like I'm bragging when I check off my list of fears in the negative. Baby is still vertex LOA and at about a -2 or -3 station ("still ballotable" according to the PA); at this point my weight gain is a respectable 27 pounds (holding steady since 33 weeks); I'm BV-free and yeast-free; the fFN test they did Wednesday at exactly 34 weeks came back negative. For Pete's sake, I'm even still wearing my normal-sized shoes. Other than the extreme fatigue that accompanies the anemia, this has been a picture perfect pregnancy. I feel pretty good most of the time. I don't just feel like I can reasonably hope for a term baby, I'm fully expecting one.

So why does this lack of worrisome symptoms have me worried? I didn't expect, and frankly don't feel I deserve, such an easy time of it. So I keep expecting some bogeyman to jump out and surprise me. I have a nagging feeling that there's something terrible lurking that I just don't know about yet. I'm well aware that with potentially six more weeks of pregnancy ahead of me (okay, possibly even eight weeks, but please don't wish going past due on me -- it would certainly push me over the edge), there's still a lot that can go wrong. With my blood-related concerns being the only real complication so far, I'm starting to really worry about the birth. I was expecting that if I reached this point and felt as good as I do, I'd be relaxed and enjoy it, but instead I'm feeling more anxious. I'm beginning to wish that this was over soon, that May could just get here, damn it, just so I could put my anxiety to rest.

I touch the future. I... yadda yadda yadda*

I teach. I don't write much about work here, mainly because I don't want to get dooced. Yes, I admit that the real reason for avoiding discussions of my work is not because of some high moral imperative about not making fun of students and coworkers. Believe me, if it weren't for that, I'd have some real gems to share.

It just so happen to work out that my due date is two days before the last day of school this year. Virtually every single person, upon asking my due date, responds, "You planned that perfectly!" Although I've had it said to me dozens of times, I still don't have a response prepared. I usually just say nothing, or change the subject.

When I was pregnant with the Monkeyboy, his due date was mid-December, right before holiday break. A coworker remarked the familiar, "you planned that perfectly," to which I replied, "Well, when we started trying two years ago, we were aiming for May." She didn't say anything after that. I didn't mean to be curt; I just wanted to set the record straight.

I know that in terms of infertility and treatment, I've only experienced what can be considered Entry-Level Infertility Treatment (What Akeeyu calls Clomid and Fucking). We were lucky that Clomid worked for us. It's really the gateway drug of infertility meds, after all. Many people move on to bigger, scarier, more expensive and more powerful treatment. But just because on the spectrum of infertility treatment we were at the "easy" end, that doesn't mean it was easy. Not when judged in the overall fertility arena. (You know that arena, the one with events like "We got pregnant the first month trying" and "Our fourth child was an accident.")

I feel compelled to educate people about fertility and infertility (I've certainly developed a reputation as the go-to girl among friends and at work to women who have questions about getting pregnant). But, why is that? Am I really looking to "help" people and inform them, or am I looking for getting credit for my own struggles? It's probably a little of both.

So today, in my bag, I carried to school to loan to a friend and co-worker, Taking Charge of Your Fertility (book and software) and a few copies of my very own favorite BBT charts, because she is in her thirties, getting married this summer, and "wants to start right away." (Don't worry, she asked for my "help;" I'm not big on giving unsolicited advice, especially of the personal nature.) And I've told her I'll teach her "everything I know."

As a planner of things by nature, infertility has made me painfully aware that some things are out of our control. And I hate it. It's not the actual struggle to get pregnant that I hated and still resent, it's the uncertainty. If I would have been told, "it will take XX years and XX dollars and XX sometimes-painful tests and treatments to get pregnant," but there was a guaranteed baby at the end of it all, then I know that every woman suffering from infertility would say, "Where do I sign up?" But, we all know women who have sacrificed physically, financially and emotionally to treat their infertility and still are left with nothing but empty hands and a head full of unanswered questions. With years of hindsight, I'm able to realize that I'm very lucky to have been able to get pregnant at all. And planning a pregnancy is such a foreign concept to me that I just freeze at the mention of the word, dumbstruck.

So, I guess my response to the comment, "You planned that perfectly!" should be, "No, neither of my kids are planned. But they are very much wanted."

*With my apologies to the memory of Christa McAuliffe.

A Long Hallway with a Closed Door

Nothing new here, nothing to report. My cervix is still long and closed, the baby is still head down (vertex LOA, that is), the baby's heartrate is still around 138, and I've gained 1.5 pounds since last week (total gain, 27.5 pounds).

I feel so very different from how I felt at this point in Monkey's pregnancy, that I am optimistic... confident, even, that I'll go to term.* (Let's not dwell on how big this baby will be at term and how I am praying I don't go late by one second. Suffice it to say that at nearly six weeks pre-term, the Monkeyboy was not even considered low birth weight for a full term baby. And second babies are usually larger.)

I go back next week. At this point, I've had more action at my doctor's office in the last week that I've had at home in the last month. Unfortunately, it doesn't look like that's going to change.

*And this is where I should make a comment about hoping I'm not jinxing myself, but I don't feel it. Nope, just don't feel jinxy at all.

A Woman's Place is in the House... and in the Senate

I just learned Pennsylvania Senate Bill 387 left the Senate for the House of Representatives. If it passes, Pennsylvania parents of stillborn children will be able to get a certificate of birth resulting in stillbirth. I wasn't aware until very recently that in many states (and PA is apparently still one of them), parents of stillborn children do not get any sort of birth certificate at all. Trite as the expression is, there's no better way to sum it up than to say: that's adding insult to injury.

One of my oldest, best-est friends (back to kindergarten... and we were each other's maids of honors twenty years later, too) lost a son at twenty weeks gestation, so although I haven't been there personally and can't empathize, I can sympathize. Although she had C-sections for her other three children, this was the only one that she was able to deliver vaginally. She delivered him. He may not have been born live, but he was born.

As of last May, there were three states that offered birth certificates and provided tax deductions for stillborn children (Arizona, Missouri and Indiana). Seventeen states offer birth certificates for stillborn children. Seven (including Pennsylvania) are considering bills to offer birth certificates. "In the laws, the gestation period at which a fetal death is considered a stillbirth rather than a miscarriage varies among states, with some starting as early as 20 weeks."

New Mexico's governor (Bill Richardson, recent Democratic candidate for president) vetoed a bill last year to allow certificates. Part of the reason for the veto was the concern that anti-abortion advocates would use the legislation to undermine abortion rights. I understand these concerns. I'm adamantly pro-choice. I've marched for women's reproductive rights in Washington, D.C. I've helped more than a few friends sort out unplanned pregnancies, even going so far as to be the support person who drove one to the clinic on the day she terminated. I'd like to think that there's a logical answer to resolving this issues and concerns, but I know well enough that when it comes to reproductive rights, common sense seems to fly out the window. However, I'd think that the language used would be a start. A New York Times article from last year states that stillbirth is "generally defined as a naturally occurring, unintentional intrauterine death after more than 20 weeks of gestation." So, how about we start there? It's not perfect, but it's a start.

I don't have all the answers, but that doesn't mean that we should stop looking for them.

If you're from Pennsylvania, and so inclined, you can send a message of support for this bill to the House by visiting here.

Update

Fetal Fibronectin test was negative. (Insert more wooting/dancing here.)

32 Weeks

Actually, Wednesday of this week marked 32 weeks. I also had an OB appointment that day, and since I never posted an update after my 28 week appointment, I'll jam information from both into the same post.

Most importantly: The baby is head down. (Isn't this where I should insert a little "Woot! Woot! and then dance around raising the roof?) My appointment was with the Physician's Assistant (PA) who said, when I quizzed her on the baby's position, that it was a "very clear exam." So it seems, for once, I knew what I was talking about. I now have one fewer thing to obsess about, so that opens the way for all new sorts of obsessions and fears to jockey to take its place.

I almost titled this post Vagina as Petri Dish, as I have another BV infection, also known in my house as the "Holy- shit- my- water- just- broke- at- 34- weeks- infection." After checking the slide, the PA said that there was "just a little bit of bacteria," not a full-blown infection, but that she wanted to treat it anyway. I agreed. Apparently, I am just prone to having the balance of my good bacteria thrown off. (Interestingly, the Wikipedia article linked above cites a "2005 study by researchers at Ghent University in Belgium [that] showed that subclinical iron deficiency (anemia) was a strong predictor of bacterial vaginosis in pregnant women.") Luckily for me when I am not pregnant, these infections personally manifest as symptom-less, so they're not a bother. Unluckily for me when I am pregnant, these infections personally manifest as symptom-less, making it hard to detect and treat.

Just like every time I've had it, the PA seemed a little uncomfortable telling me that one reason for it is "oral relations" (her words, not mine) and that the Hubster and I have to abstain from all relations (oral and otherwise) until we both finish our rounds of Fla.gyl. She worked her face into a sympathetic, "knowing" look and said "I know it's hard." I gestured at my huge belly and said, "It's not going to be that hard; what he's going to find harder is that he has to give up drinking beer for the week he's taking the medicine."

The third thing of note was that she did do a fFN test. The results were supposed to take about 24 hours, but I haven't yet heard anything from my doctor's office. She did say if I was curious and hadn't heard from them, to give them a call (they get busy and phone calls seem to fall between the cracks sometimes), but I'm not all that concerned about it. Regardless of the results, it's not going to change anything. If I get a chance though, I'll try to call them later today just to see what the test said, out of curiosity.

As for the stats of the exam, I'm up to 151 pounds; that's a 26 pound weight gain so far (at 28 weeks, I was up to 146). At both this appointment and the last, the baby's heart rate was about 138-140. I neglected to note previously that I passed my Glucose Tolerance Test with flying colors (85), Oreos be damned! But at my 28 week appointment, after a month of iron supplements, my hemoglobin, which had been 10.1 when I was first tested for anemia, had come up to... drumroll please... 10.2. I know, impressive, right? So, although the PA said she was not worried about the implications with regards to birth (because I asked what they could be), she did send me to have repeat bloodwork done.

As for the internal exam, my cervix is still long, high and closed. Which, for the record, is exactly where I was nine days before the Monkeyboy was born and my labor with him was only 10 1/2 hours. As I said to the PA, "Dilated. Not dilated. It all means nothing to me. It made no difference last time." She agreed, saying, "You're right... every woman is different." The baby is at about a -3 station, which I can't compare to that same appointment from the Monkey's pregnancy because I don't remember her commenting on it, but it's pretty high. However, everything I've read says that subsequent babies often don't engage until labor starts.

Instead of coming back in two weeks, I will starting weekly appointments now. So next Wednesday, back I go. I keep thinking, "not that it matters..." It's not pessimism on my part, though, it's that I'm sort of at a Zen place with it all now. 32 weeks was a milestone I had in my head, that once I reached it, things would be okay. After all, at 34 and a half weeks, the Monkey did damn near fantastic. If this baby were to be born at the same gestational point the Monkey was, it would come on April 21. I think that, mentally at least, I'm ready.

The Politics of the Fetal Fibronectin Test

At my six week post-partum check-up after the Monkey's birth, I asked my OB what the chances are that I could deliver prematurely again. He guessed (and admitted it was sort of a guess) that my chances of having the same thing happen again were further increased only by about 10%.

"But there's a test we can do next time that will let us know if you have an increased risk of delivering early."

At that time two and a half years ago, I had only just heard of the Fetal Fibronectin (fFN) Test, but I assumed that was what he was talking about. So I left it at that, knowing we'd revisit the subject when it became relevant. Of course, once I became pregnant again, I started doing my own research before I even talked to my doctor about it.

Fetal fibronectin is the "glue" that attaches the fetal sac to the uterine lining. It can be present in vaginal secretions before 22 weeks gestation and after 35 weeks, but between 22 and 35 weeks it can be a signal that the bond between between the two is starting to break down and that pre-term labor may be imminent. May. Be. The most interesting fact of all is that a positive result doesn't necessarily mean anything. Other than that you will deliver a baby at some point before the end of time.

A negative result, on the other hand, is a fairly good predictor that you won't deliver within the next two weeks (although I do know of a woman who did deliver early after a negative test, as the test is only about 95% accurate -- although the company that makes the test reports it as 99.2% accurate).

So, of course, I asked my doctor about if he was still planning on using the fFN test. This was at my twenty week appointment where he checked my cervical length, as well as testing me for infections again -- all part of the slightly increased vigilance this time around. Interestingly, in the two and a half years since we had that conversation, his attitude about the test had changed.
His opinion is that the test is of limited value. The information that a positive test provides to medical professionals isn't very reliable or helpful. And that the information a negative test provides is merely just reassurance, not medically helpful. His (near)exact words were

Insurance companies love this test, because it allows them to force women who may be showing signs of pre-term labor out of the hospital, therefore saving them money. That's where the value in the test lies.

But he offered to start doing the test if it was what I wanted and if it would make me feel better. Since I could find very little information as to whether it was reliable regarding pPROM, and since I trust my doctor a great deal, I told him that it was up to him, that I trusted him, and that if he didn't think it was of value in my case, then we could skip it. A month later, at my 24 week appointment, the PA told me that she wanted to talk to the doctor about doing the fFN test soon. I didn't bother to tell he what he had just told me -- I figured they could have their own conversation, since they both know a lot more about pregnancy and childbirth than I do.* Yet another month later, as I checked out after my 28 week appointment, the nurse told me that my next appointment at 32 weeks would be with the PA, and that it would involve another internal, as they'd be checking my cervix, running cultures again to check for infections and "doing the test for pre-term labor."

Since the test doesn't actually hurt anything, I didn't question it. And after seeing the NICU bill for the Monkeyboy's stay, I'm sure my insurance will be glad to cover the $200 that the test costs. But I wonder what was said during the meeting of the medical minds that made them decide to do the test after all.

*Although, come to think of it, he's a man, and she's a young women who I don't believe has any children yet, so I bet I have a few bits of knowledge that they don't have.

Organic Milk as Calendar, Take 2

It's what I've been waiting for... Now the milk and I have the same due date.

And another thing...

I forgot to mention... following the tradition of "If it's a weird ailment or side effect, I'll get it," the Monkey was sent home from daycare last week with a fever. A fever that turned out to be Coxsackie Virus, known colloquially as Hand, Foot and Mouth Disease (or what Toddler 411 said should be called "Hand, Foot, Mouth and Butt" Disease).

Luckily, both for him and me, it's a very mild outbreak. But it just goes to show, there's never a dull moment around here.

And the obsession continues...

I've tried not to become overly obsessed by thoughts of the baby's position. But I am obsessed. I've spent countless hours googling terms like "breech head tender uterus," "frank breech movement" and "breech hiccups."

Hiccups notwithstanding, I think this little guy is vertex. In fact, in the nomenclature of Spinning Babies, I think he's LOA (Left Occiput Anterior), which seems to be the best possible position to be in.

The googling all lead to me, over the past several weeks, doing lots of pelvic rocking and even some inversions, before I remembered that the serious foot, ankle and calf swelling I had with the Monkeyboy had lead me to prop my feet and legs up every night while I lay in bed. No swelling this time has meant no propping, a major difference from my last pregnancy when I did it every night from about 24 weeks on. So, back to my version of a slant board it was (different than an inversion, since you're on your back, but there's a different principle at work). This also helped me to do some Belly Mapping.

There I was, lying on my bed, feet up on my Liberator Ramp (link is probably not safe for work, unless you have a very liberal workplace), feeling for body parts. (The Monkey wanted to do the same himself, so he used the wedge to prop his own feet up next to me). Verdict: There's the large lump near my belly button, which I probably wouldn't be able to identify clearly as either head or butt on its own. There's another large, hard lump wedged almost behind my pubic bone. But the piece de resistance was the small, hard knob right above the lower lump, which from my research seems to be a shoulder. (If you check out that link, note the excited look on the woman's face when she feels the shoulder. I bet my face looked much the same).

Hopefully.

We'll see what the professionals have to say at my appointment Wednesday (at 32 weeks).

A New Take on Infertility... A Pregnant Man

Okay, it's not really a pregnant man. Atheist in a Minivan reported on an article in the Telegraph regarding a transgender (well, sort of) couple who used their only available, functioning uterus (which just happened to belong to the husband half of the couple) to conceive. Her take on the issue is more coherent than anything I'd be able to write at this point, so go read it.

Thank you

Thank you all for your well wishes and expression of sympathy. It's getting a little easier, although it's still hard when the Monkey asks, daily if not more often, "Where's Oscar?" (actually "Whey-a Ok-kar?") holding his hands in the air like a big confused shrug. The best we can figure to tell a two-year-old is that Oscar went ""bye-bye" and is now "all gone." He seems to accept it just fine, but then completely forget until the next time that he notices Oscar is missing. (Not that I'm all that much brighter than a two-year-old, as I occasionally find myself looking for him, too.)

Worst Weekend Ever

My dog died this weekend. Oscar, the boxer that's in my profile picture with me.

He had turned nine in January, which isn't exactly old for a boxer, but isn't all that young either. Life expectancy is about 10-12 years for a healthy Boxer. However, Boxers are very prone to health problems, and Oscar had his share of them, which began just after his first birthday. Google canine idiopathic histiocytic ulcerative colitis for a start. But even though he had some chronic issues, he'd been holding his own for the last several years. Even our vet, who saw us through a great deal with Oscar (including meeting us at his office on a Sunday to treat Oscar and give his IV fluids one terrible weekend a few years ago), said that in the last few years, Oz was, ironically, the "picture of health." Looking at him, you didn't see anything other than a big, strong healthy Boxer.

He was our youngest dog, the last one we got. And so, I babied him; I spoiled him and broke all the rules for him. Like allowing him to sleep on the bed with me (which at one point cascaded into all three dogs sleeping on the bed -- that's almost 300 pounds of dog).

Oscar was a dog that never met another animal he didn't like. People, other dogs, cats, even rabbits, he was only interested in meeting them and being their friends -- he never acted aggressively once in his life. He was just a very sweet, simple dog. If you are an aficionado of Boxers, you'll know what I mean when I say, he was also a talented singer of the "Woo Woo" Song and dancer of the "Bee Dance" (also called jelly-beaning or kidney-beaning).

I'm heartbroken. Hollow. But, I also feel guilty. I don't feel we've "done right" by our dogs the last few years. Although they have a dog door and free reign of a very large, fenced, wooded yard, they spent more and more time "away" from us, no longer allowed to sleep in the bedroom (due, to some degree, to Oscar's colitis and his frequent accidents) or even roam the house freely while we're away at work. And over the last four years, dealing with primary infertility, depression, pregnancy, a pre-term baby, secondary infertility and now this pregnancy -- which has been kicking my ass -- I feel like I've neglected them even more. I'm very glad that a couple of months ago I sewed them new dog beds, larger than crib mattresses, with soft fleece on one side and full of soft stuffing. It makes me feel at least I did something right.

We were gone for the weekend, and when we came home, the Hubster found Oscar in the backyard where he had apparently collapsed and died. Our best guess is that after all these years of health-stress on his system, he suffered a heart attack or stroke. I wish I could change a lot of things, but most of all I wish we had been here.

I should have known better

There's been lots of bumping and thumping and shifting around in the last day or so, and now there are hiccups coming from right behind my belly button. Fantastic.

However, today I am only 29 weeks, so I'm making a resolution not to fret about it. I am only making guesses anyway. My next OB appointment is in three weeks. I'll see what he has to say then.

If you ask a stupid question...

The April 2008 issue of Parenting Magazine posits this "Mom Debate:"

Should a woman be able to use fertility treatments to get pregnant if she already has kids?

I'm still too tired and too busy to respond to that right now, but it's not hard to guess where I stand. You can answer the question via email at momexchange@parenting.com or click the Mom Debate link above. There's also a Community Forum where you can respond. (Last month, "more than 1,000" women answered the question regarding whether or not parents should use You.Tube to host videos of their children. Let's see if we can beat that number of responses on this, more serious, issue!)

News Flash

I think, in my in-expert opinion, that this little guy is head down. It seems like his butt is up around my belly button (I think my placenta is pretty high this time, because there are never any baby parts in the upper part of my uterus). It feels more like a butt than a head, because it's pretty hard and comes from a flat area (the back, I assume). Also, all hiccups are felt very, very low; almost behind my pubic bone.

I could be wrong*, but for right now, I'm enjoying the thought. Of course, this means I'll have to find something new to obsessively worry about. Like the fact that by writing this, I may have jinxed myself into him flipping to a less-favorable position.

*After all, I've been wrong before.

Be prepared; that's what the Boy Scouts tell me.

This weekend I pulled out the waterproof pad to protect our mattress in case my water breaks again. Last night I slept on it for the first time this pregnancy. It is not soft.

Unfortunately, words fail me again.

I just found out, via Kristen at Stickybean, that Natalie from Relaxing Doesn't Make Babies has lost her son Devin at 36 weeks gestation. At her midwife appointment yesterday there was no heartbeat and she was induced.

I find myself again asking that anyone who can stop by and lend words of support and comfort should please do so.

Float

Flogging Molly's new CD came out yesterday. Yay!

And I'm just too tired to write anything else about it. Boo.

Third Trimester

Yesterday I took the oft-dreaded one-hour Glucose Tolerance Test (GTT). The reason most women dread it is because you have to drink a fair-sized glass of thick, extra-sugary orange-flavored glucose beverage. However, since one of the cravings that's hit by the middle of each of my pregnancies has been orange flavored drinks (very, very orange: like orange Fanta and Tang), I did not look upon this appointment with dread. In fact, when the tech gave me the drink, she also set down a cup of water and said, "to rinse the taste out of your mouth." I chuckled to myself, thinking of replying, "Oh, I won't be needing that."

Today marks the first day of the third trimester; 27 weeks (although some argue that it starts at 28 weeks -- I'll take it). In recognition of that, I broke out the big, full-panel maternity jeans and donned a t-shirt that the Hubster previously told me look "gigantic and sloppy." Today, he said it just looked "slightly loose." I have finally come into my own.

My new fear (or new, old fear, I suppose, as it worried me last time for a while) is that the baby won't be vertex (head down) in time for delivery and I'll have to have a c-section. The Monkeyboy was cooperative and positioned himself head down fairly early. I think by at least 28 weeks, if not before, he was obviously vertex and stayed head down for the remainder of his tenure in womb.

This baby seems to me to be transverse (where the baby rests in the uterus like it's a hammock). I seem a little wider across the middle, not in a weight-gained way, but in a bulgy way. I feel kicks or punches everywhere: high, low, left side, right side. When I try to determine the baby's position, I can't tell. It's still kind of early, but the biggest lumps (head and back/butt) don't seem to be where they should, although they do also seem to change positions from day to day.

Last weekend was the annual Ski Weekend, where a fairly large group of us leave our kids behind and trek to the local mountains to live in sparse accomodations, drink excessively (all except me this year) and even do a little skiing (again, not me). No less than three of our friends are doctors -- the real stethoscope wielding kind. Although none of them are OB/GYNs, all three did OB rotations in med school and one is still able to deliver babies (legally certified or however that works). So I asked if they could figure out how the baby was positioned.

They all told me it was still early. However, the consensus was that, although it's hard to tell at this point (the baby is still small and has a lot of room in there), the baby feels transverse. I'm trying not to worry. I know that as the baby gets larger, the head usually gets heavy enough to convince the baby that head down is the way to go. I'm hoping he doesn't find the Jimmy-Buffet-lounging-in-a-hammock-under-a-lone-palm mood he's in to be something he wants to prolong. At my last OB appointment, the PA told me she's seen babies flip head down as late as 36 weeks. My thought? "Oh, great, that was about two weeks after the Monkeyboy was born."

Breaking 100 (into double digits)

According to my baby ticker (right), I have 99 days to go!

Just one more thing that Evonne Goolagong and I have in common

For starters, I've gained six pounds in the last month (and I was so proud of myself for only gaining one pound the month before). I had an OB appointment with the PA earlier in the week.

"How are you feeling? Do you have any questions?"

"Yes, I do. Have I really gained six pounds in the last month?"

"Well... yes you have. But you're only up twelve pounds over all, so that's fine." However, she's counting from the weight I was at when I had my first appointment at week 10. I had already put four pounds on at that point; she just doesn't know that.

I can't really complain. I've only gained sixteen pounds in 25 weeks. Even if I gain a pound a week from here on out, my total weight gain will still only be about 35 pounds, which is what I estimated it would have been if I would have gone to term with the Monkeyboy.

As for the Evonne Goolagong reference, it turns out that I, like she talked about in her Geritol commercials in the seventies, have "iron-poor blood." That is, I'm anemic.

At my last appointment, I asked my doctor to run bloodwork because I thought I might be anemic. I am beyond fatigued. Not just exhausted, but I've even been feeling muscle weakness. I am cold all the time (I've been running a little space heater by my desk at work to try to get warm). I'm irritable. I have a hard time concentrating. I'm out of breath. The other night I walked across the house to check on the Monkeyboy before going to bed and when I laid down, my heart was racing. And I look like a corpse; I'm pale and have dark circles under my eyes that aren't easily covered with makeup. Purpley-blue dark circles accentuated by my pale, pale, almost translucent skin. Call it vampire-chic.

Many of these are not unusual symptoms for pregnancy, but I've been pregnant before and the level of the symptoms was unusual for me. My doctor agreed, and because I've been feeling so cold all the time, he even said he'd throw a TSH check in with my CBC, just for fun. I doubted I was hypothyroid because I didn't have any of the other symptoms (we used to have a dog that was hypothyroid, so I'm familiar with the symptoms), but I was willing to look for anything that was making me feel this way.

Due to a snafu with our home phone*, I didn't get the message from my doctor's office regarding my bloodwork. I assumed nothing out of the ordinary presented itself. Imagine my surprise when the PA opened my appointment with a glance at my chart and the question, "So, have you been taking the iron?"

My hemoglobin was 10.1, which is low, but not extremely low.** The normal range of hemoglobin in non-pregnant women is 12.3 to 15.3; the WHO defines anemia in non-pregnant women as less than 12. A level of 10.0 and 10.9 is considered mild anemia in pregnant women. I am low enough that I'm now taking iron supplements and will have it rechecked at my 28-week bloodwork (which also includes my glucose tolerance test).

I've already been taking an additional 250 mg of vitamin C, since there's some evidence to show that vitamin C helps prevent pPROM. However, very high levels of vitamin C have also been found in women who've miscarried. (I cannot find my sources for this, though. I will keep looking.) That's why I've only been taking 250 mg (which was the smallest dose I could find), instead of the usual mega-dose options available at the average grocery, health food or big-chain stores.

Vitamin C helps the absorption of iron, so I'm now taking them at the same time each day, a time which is at least two hours after I've consumed any dairy products and at least two hours before I will consume any more (since calcium blocks the absorption of iron). This has been difficult, because I drink -- and I swear I am not exaggerating here -- about two quarts of milk a day (much of it chocolate). I have a tall glass as part of my breakfast, a chocolate milk as my after-lunch snack, a glass when I get home from school/work and have a snack, sometimes another glass in the evening and then I wrap up the evening with my pre-bed glass-of-milk-and-a-cookie/brownie routine. Finding a dairy-free time to take the iron supplement has been the biggest challenge so far. Looking at my milk-drinking schedule, and knowing calcium's anti-iron attitude, is it any wonder that I am anemic? But certainly not calcium-deficient, oh no.

Hopefully, the iron supplements will take hold and my anemia, along with its symptoms, will be a thing of the past. Then the only thing Evonne Goolagong and I will have in common is that we're both retired international tennis superstars and daughters of itinerant sheep shearers. And frankly, isn't that enough?

*It can take upwards of two weeks for two adults with cell phones to realize that their land line is not working; no dial tone, nothing. Ah, the blessing and curse of modern technology.

**Although a woman at work said her elderly mother was admitted to the hospital when her hemoglobin reached 9.

There are a lot of things I understand...

But even more that I don't.

Of all the searches that point people in this direction, for most of them, I understand what they mean and why people ended up here:

• ligament pain (Here we go round the ligament pain)
• sirius wilco (I have tried to like Wilco)
• sore belly after amnio (Amnio)
• Mary J. Blige hcg (iPod Playlist in sidebar/Obsessing on hCG levels)
• aslyn rock boat 7 track listing (Lazy Mix CD)
• opk control freak (On to an RE)
• clomid estradiol and prochieve together (August 2007 archive)
• eeeeww (All I can say is... Eeeeww)
• Omega 3-6-9 TTC success (August 2007 archive)
• organic milk expiration (Organic Milk as Calendar)
• boring summer jobs (Most. Boring. Summer. Ever.)
• negative facts about cell phones (Cell phones)
• nuchal transluscency blog (Nuchal Transluscency)
• social distortion maternity (Bored now.)
• infant crying cat vomit* (Crying Baby, Puking Cat)
• How much did Ryan Reynolds weigh in Blade III (My List)
• first trimester craving steak (Place your bets)
• irony of procrastination (Procrastination/Irony)
• All the various music-related searches (Aslyn, Slaid Cleaves, Chris Trapper, Zac Brown, Warped Tour, etc)

And even...

• What color is the sky in your world cliff claven (No News is Good News)

But the ones I do not get?

• didgeridoo pregnant
• didgeridoo miscarriage

(Okay, I understand why they ended up here, but not what the hell that search could have been looking for.)


*My personal favorite search. It's so close to "Crying Baby, Puking Cat" I wouldn't be surprised if I was at the top of the search list for that one.

24 Weeks

Yes, as of today, I've reached the big "24 weeks" viability milestone. (Or as of yesterday, according to my OB, who uses last menstrual period instead of ovulation to calculate due date).

A great deal is made of this milestone on pregnancy forums (and by some doctors), and although I'm glad to have reached it, I know that it's really no guarantee that a baby born this early would survive. The March of Dimes website's Fact Sheet on Preterm Birth doesn't even give a survival rate for a birth at 24 weeks (the earliest they give statstics for is 26 weeks, at which the survival rate is 80%, although 25% of these babies will have serious, lasting disabilities).

So, for me the relief is only in knowing that at least the baby would have a chance and the hospital would be willing to fight for him.

By 28-31 weeks gestation, the survival rate climbs to 90-95 %, so 28 weeks is the next real milestone to which I'm looking forward. I have a real-life friend whose son was born at 30 weeks last spring and he's doing well. He spent two months in the NICU and another month in a step-down facility before coming home. He was also on an apnea monitor at home for several months, and has made several return stays in the hospital (most recently for croup), but overall is doing well. I also know a make-believe friend who has a 3-year-old 30-weeker who is bright and healthy (the woman is real, its only the part about calling her a friend that's the make-believe part, since I only stalk her via the internet). So although delivery at 30 weeks is still a rough road, that's when I'll start to feel even a tiny bit comfortable.

Of course, 34 weeks is when I feel the most comfortable. Completely comfortable, if you want to be honest, and probably more comfortable than I should. Not only were Old Christine's twin sons born at 34 weeks (12 day NICU stay and now the healthiest 10-year-olds I know), but the Monkeyboy was born at 34 weeks (5 days in the NICU). Technically, you're not out of the woods at 34 weeks, but the Monkeyboy was an ounce over what's considered low birthweight (he was 5 pounds, 9 ounces), didn't use a second of oxygen and could nipple all of his feedings (with help). In the grand scheme of things, he was barely a preemie. But it was still stressful. He was hooked up to monitors and slept in an incubator. He didn't come home with me. Breastfeeding was a challenge at first because he wasn't ready and needed help. We worried about his health, he had extra checkups and weigh-ins, and got the RSV vaccine. He had some delayed milestones the first year.

And 34 weeks is still ten weeks away.

Excuse me for sounding pessimistic. Today I'm wearing a red maternity shirt I bought while pregnant with the Monkeyboy. I bought it so I had something that looked somewhat festive to wear around Thanksgiving and in December 2005. This morning I took off the tags and wore it for the first time.

Words fail me

Mary Ellen and Steve over at Not According to Plan just lost their triplet girls, Sylvia, Claire and Lucy at 19 weeks. Anyone who can stop by and lend words of support and comfort should please do so.

Sexual Politics

Thoughts of the coming election, mingled with those of parenthood, keep bringing to mind Anne Lamott's memoir of her son's first year and this quote from it:

Then I called a woman who went out with him a few years ago and discovered the two most damaging things I can know about a man: one, he voted for both Bush and Reagan, and two, he was very reluctant to give head. Now maybe on a really bad night I would let one of these things go by, but I tell you, if his head wouldn't go south of my waist and he was up there talking with passion about the thousand points of light, I'd crack. It would be like "Hey, thanks for stopping by, pal, but the thousand points of light are in my pussy." I don't want to negotiate the SALT talks just to get a little oral sex. The right guy will love nothing more.

-- Anne Lamott, Operating Instructions

Christmas in January*

What does it say about me as a mother that I'm reluctant to pay full price for Carter's fleece footie pajamas, at $14.99 for two pair, but OldChristine bought the Monkeyboy Hannah Anderson jammies for Christmas that were almost $40 for just one pair?


*We typically "do" Christmas with our best friends at least a month after the date. It just always seems to work out that way, scheduling-wise. (One year we did it in April!)

Send good thoughts

I'm not much of a praying person, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed (The Atheist's Prayer, I call it) for Alexa. She's on my Spring Due Dates blogroll, 24 weeks pregnant with twins. Her son died in utero last week and this morning his water broke, endangering her daughter who is still hanging on. Send your thoughts/prayers her way.

I'm starting to take this personally

I don't want to keep bringing this up, but one more thing about Heath Ledger. The Mary Kate Olsen connection? I'm beginning to think that the Olsen girls are going after My List, one by one.

Opening Available

I'm unreasonably upset about the death of Heath Ledger. (Actually, the Hubster says that "any level of upset about his death qualifies as 'unreasonable'.") I'm not as upset as I was at the sudden death of Phil Hartman*, but the feeling of shock at learning of his death was the same. It just came out of nowhere.

I'm not much of a celebrity-watcher, but I always have a few favorites. I've enjoyed Ledger's performances in movies (with, perhaps, the exception of A Knight's Tale). I've even used the movie The Patriot in my Revolutionary War unit several times (although it's flawed, it has its merits). Brokeback Mountain broke my heart. It also doesn't hurt that, day-um, Heath Ledger was hot (that's with a capital-H-a-w-t). On a personal level, I can't stop thinking about the fact that his daughter was born only a few days before the Monkeyboy, so he's one of several celebrities with whom I shared a pregnancy. It's an odd association, I know, but I remember those who were pregnant when I was. It originally came to my attention back when another woman on a pregnancy forum I frequent posted that Ledger and Michelle Williams had been in the group that took the hospital tour when she and her husband did. I just can't stop thinking about his little girl. I think that if something happened to me, the Monkeyboy is just too young to remember me at all.

When I told the Hubster that he had died, his immediate response was, "Wow. Well, that opens up a spot in your Bottom Five, now doesn't it?" And as usual, he really gets right to the heart of the matter.


*You may remember his character Troy McClure from such educational films as "Designated Drivers: Lifesaving Nerds" and "Locker Room Towel Fight: The Blinding of Larry Driscoll."

Honestly, I read it for the articles

In Play(boy)'s Advisor column last month, there was a question regarding breastfeeding etiquette. A woman wrote regarding her best friend's habit of breastfeeding in front of the writer's boyfriend because, "even though my friend does her best to shield his view," the boyfriend is uncomfortable.

The Advisor's response?

Your boyfriend will have to deal. Seeing a little tit never hurt anyone.

Amen, brother.

Lyrically Speaking

In recognition of the bloody cold weather we've been having the past few days...

She plays Beach Boys records and she dances alone,
And before (before) before she goes home...
She wants a Piña Colada in a pint glass...
She wants to be where the summer won’t stop,
She wants gin clear water and milk white sand,
A sunburned nose and a drink in her hand
With a pink umbrella on top!

-- Gaelic Storm, " Piña Colada in a Pint Glass," How Are We Getting Home? (2004)

Parenting of Least Resistance

The other day I was lying on the couch while the Monkeyboy played with his balls. (No, not those ball. Get your mind out of the gutter.) The boy has a serious ball fetish, like my sister-in-law's cocker spaniel used to have. The ball of preference varies from week to week or month to month. For example, over the summer, he took to sleeping with his football. He decided on his own that this was something he wanted to do, and since a football in his crib seemed very low of the scale of things-that-should-never-be-put-into-cribs-with-young-children, the Hubster and I figured, Why not? We did comment to each other that we would have been embarrassed should anyone outside the family find out, lest it seem like we were deliberately trying to craft the next generation Joe Montana. We have no plans to be that kind of parent.

As the school year progressed, he abandoned the football for a variety of other, more hand-sized models. Currently, he prefers tennis balls, whiffle golf balls (yeah, the regular golf balls didn't quite work out for him, as he also likes to throw things with the arm of Ebby Calvin "Nuke" LaLoosh, both in terms of speed and accuracy), and the little plastic cannonball that came with his Fisher Price Pirate Ship this Christmas.

Getting back to my original thought, though, was that as he played in our Great Room with those toy balls, they often found their way beneath our behemoth of a couch. After rousing myself a couple of times to drag them out, I decided that the time had come for my son to learn some skills to allow him to problem solve on his own. I got out his toy broom from the laundry room, and showed him how he could use it to fish things out from under the couch.

You know what they say, Give a man a fish; you have fed him for today. Teach a man to fish; and you have fed him for a lifetime. Except my motivations were not quite so altruistic. I just didn't want to get my tired, pregnant butt up off the couch again.

Halfway

Today I am 20 weeks. The high water mark of pregnancy, both in terms of time frame and, for me, how I feel. With the Monkeyboy, I felt pretty good at twenty weeks, but it went slowly downhill from there. Right now I'm feeling pretty good, but based on experience I assume this is the calm before the storm.

My level II ultrasound was at 18 weeks 1 day. Everything looked good and we were even able to get a shot of the little guy's naughty bits, although we already knew what model baby we were getting. The one issue of concern for me is that all the measurements the tech took were over 19 weeks; they ranged from 19 weeks 1 day to 19 weeks 5 days. That's a big baby.

At my next OB appointment (a week from today), I'll be raising that issue with my doctor. At the Monkeyboy's delivery he told me (with his hands between my legs), "It's a mixed blessing that you're delivering this early, because you're very small down here.* This birth might not have been so easy if this was an eight pound baby."

By his due date, the Monkeyboy was eight pounds, three ounces. So now I have the contradictory fears of 1) another premature birth and 2) going to term. I'd rather not be induced if I get that far, but I also don't want to go to term with a huge baby,** and then push for three hours before having them tell me, "Sorry. Cephalo-pelvic disproportion. Emergency C-section." If I have to have a C-section this time, I'd rather it be planned.

One of the stressful things about this pregnancy and birth is that I sort of feel like I've never done this before. With my first pregnancy, I thought, I could go to term, or I could go over due, who knows? I've never done this before. But I still feel that way, except now I think, I could go early, I could go to term, or I could go over due. Who knows? I still feel like the impending birth is a big giant wild card.

*He didn't seem to find any humor in my "Thanks, that's what all the guys say" response.
**"Huge" in relation to lil ol' me, that is.

Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening. Unfortunately.

What the fuck is wrong with some people? Vandals Rip into Robert Frost Home

The intruders broke a window to get into the two-story wood frame building -- a furnished residence open in the summer -- before destroying tables and chairs, pictures, windows, light fixtures and dishes. Wicker furniture and dressers were smashed and thrown into a fireplace and burned, apparently to provide heat in the unheated building...

Hopefully, for some people, prison will turn out to be the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.

Milestone?

17 weeks, 2 days. At this point in my last pregnancy, I was halfway and didn't know it. (Actually, that would technically be 17 weeks, and 2 1/2 days, but close enough). Just another of the big "Wait-and-Sees" of pregnancy.

Nevermind...

Wow! The amnio results came in extra quick (eight days). Everything's normal, 46 chromosomes, no more, no less and.... another boy!

All I can say is, my house is going to be like a rodeo if this one's anything like the Monkeyboy.

Place your bets!

Just for fun, I've decided to add a poll (to the right) as to the sex of the baby. (It's really to help me bide the time until the amnio results come in.) As of now, I've left the poll open until next Thursday, December 27, which is the day of my level II ultrasound, but I reserve the right to close it suddenly whenever amnio results come in if I can't wait any longer for the big reveal.

If you've been reading along, you may have all the clues you need to make your guess. If you're just joining us, the story thus far:

• 37 years old (The Hubster: 38)
• One son, The Monkeyboy (16 cycles + Clomid round 1)
• TTC#2 (13 cycles + Clomid round 4 + Omega 3-6-9)
• "Did it" three days in a row (the third being the day of ovulation)
• High hCG; high progesterone (even beyond what supplemetation levels should have been)
• Extreme fatigue during first trimester (probably the progesterone)
• No morning sickness, but nausea in the evening during first trimester
• Tender breasts (up a cup size+)
• A few breakouts the first trimester, but that's stopped (*knock wood*)
• Heartrate by ultrasound: 12 weeks, 160s; 16 weeks, 150s
• Heartrate by doppler: 12 weeks, 148; 17 weeks, 142
• Carrying a little lower than the Monkeyboy, but OB says this is typical for second pregnancies
• Cravings: Steak and Shake burgers, hardboiled eggs, chocolate (Craved orange flavored stuff with the Monkeyboy and haven't had that this time; and I always crave chocolate, pregnant or not)
• Food aversions: ground meat (only in some situations) and chicken (again, only in some situations -- mostly just the smell of cooked chicken)
• Very hungry all the time
• Gained 9 pounds so far (at 17 weeks)

Please vote. Answer will be revealed no later than December 27.

Honeymoon Trimester

The second trimester is often called the "Honeymoon Trimester," because the agonies of the first are over, while the agonies of the third have yet to start. My honeymoon seems well underway. I no longer am roused in the middle of the night for a bathroom visit (instead, I'm often roused by a sick 2-year-old, but that's beside the point). I never really experienced morning sickness, but any minor nausea I had seems to have disappeared. Overall, I feel pretty good.

From experience I know that my honeymoon will be a short one. During my first pregnancy, I had foreshadowing of the third trimester terror-to-come by about twenty weeks. This time, I've had those hints already. A little numbness in my hands and arms after sleeping, a mild jittery feeling in my legs some evenings. I expect to start really feeling like crap by mid-January. But for now, I'm enjoying the uninterrupted sleep and trying not to think about what's to come.

I had a regular OB appointment yesterday. I'm measuring right on for 17 weeks. The heartrate was about 142. (The heartrate is always higher on ultrasound and lower by my doctor's doppler, so I'm not sure what's up with that. I think it's an old-school doppler and that they calculate the heartrate the old-school way -- count for ten seconds and multiply -- so I'm not sure that it's accurate). She also had the updated results from my First Trimester Screening (NT scan and bloodwork). Risk of Down Syndrome (Trisomy 21) based solely my age (37) is 1:230 and risk of all other genetic disorders is 1:140. My risk after the screening was 1:1200; my risk of Trisomy 18 was 1:99,500. I'm still waiting for my amnio results, so I hate to get overconfident, but those numbers make me feel pretty good. I hope to hear from the genetic counselor by Friday, which would be ten days from my amnio. I think results only took ten days with the monkeyboy. I'm worried that if I don't hear by Friday, then I won't hear anything until after Christmas.

I also asked her about my weight gain with the Monkeyboy's pregnancy, for comparison purposes, prefacing this question with a statement as to the effect, "I don't want to sound weight-obsessed, but I was curious..." The weeks of my appointments that time and this time don't exactly match up, but they're close enough for government work, as the saying goes. So, as for the stats: first pregnancy, at 15 weeks, up 8.5 pounds and at 19 weeks, up 10 pounds; this pregnancy, at 17 weeks, up 9 pounds. Right on target for where I want to be. I just wanted to make sure I could keep justifying those extra brownies. ("My baby wants a brownie" is my favorite excuse in the whole wide world. After my first pregnancy, my brother-in-law even now uses it as an excuse for himself.)

My level II ultrasound is scheduled for December 27. Unless they decide that there's a reason to take another look after that (last time I had a low placenta and they wanted to check the position at 28 weeks), I won't be seeing this little bugger again until it's born.

Amnio

I had my amnio yesterday. Going into it, I was a strange mixture of both nervous and calm. I had an amnio with the Monkeyboy, so I knew what to expect. I wasn't dreading it, but I wasn't looking forward to the procedure either, for obvious reasons. I was looking forward to getting it over and done with, so that I could be that much closer to results.

Before the amnio, we had a genetic counseling appointment. We had updated our family history when I had the first trimester screening a few weeks ago, so the appointment was short. One new piece of information was that they've updated the amnio risk of miscarriage to 1 in 1000. (I think when I had amnio done with the Monkeyboy they were still using the old 1 in 300 statistic, although my research had told me the risk was lower). The counselor also told me that the same doctor that did my first amnio would be doing this one. That was comforting to hear, because the last one was minimally uncomfortable and had no complications.

Before the amnio, they do an anatomy ultrasound. This one wasn't as detailed as the one they did with Monkeyboy, but I think I was a few weeks farther along last time. The baby's heartrate was 151. I asked the tech if she could determine the baby's sex, but she wasn't very helpful. She said that "At this point of development, they all have something there..." which isn't exactly true, although it can still be difficult to tell at this point. Then she made a cursory attempt to look, but said she couldn't get a good shot. She spent more time trying to measure the leg bone than trying to get a "money shot." I'm placated by the fact that I will know for sure within two weeks. As far as I am concerned, that's one of the upsides to having an amnio.

It takes longer for them to prep everything for the procedure than the actual procedure takes. After being thoroughly swabbed with Betadine, the doctor placed drapes all around the lower part of my abdomen. Then the ultrasound tech found a spot where there was a good sized pocket of amniotic fluid, away from the placenta and the baby (although closer to the placenta and the baby than I remember it being last time). The doctor told me he'd explain the procedure as if I hadn't had it done before, telling me what was happening every step of the way. When the needle goes through the skin, it feels like the sharp pinch of a blood draw. (Have I mentioned I don't watch this part? I watch the ultrasound screen the whole time.*) Then, when the needle pierced the uterus, it feels like the "shock" you get when you hit the "funny bone" in your elbow (actually the ulnar nerve). At this point, it was a little more uncomfortable than I remember it being, as the doctor sort of moved the needle around a little bit to get it in deeper and in a good position. The needle itself being there didn't hurt, but the movement of the needle caused me some twingey pains.

He drew a couple of vials of fluid, but kept giving me an update as to how much longer it would take ("About a minute left... about thirty seconds longer..."). When he was done, he said I would feel a burning sensation as he withdrew the needle, but I didn't. I just felt relief as soon as it cleared the skin. I've been sore and a little crampy since then, which is normal, but feeling better all the time.

The tech checked the baby via ultrasound for a few moments after the amnio and also checked the heartrate again (which was 157) just to make sure the baby wasn't distressed. After cleaning up my orange Betadine belly, we were out of there. The entire process took about an hour.

Results should take about ten days, according to the doctor. I think that's about what it took last time, too. The genetic counselor has my cell phone number, since I'll probably be at work when she calls. Now I just have to wait.

ULTRASOUND PIC WILL BE ADDED HERE ONCE I EDIT OUT MY NAME, ETC.

*Especially after last time, when the Hubster described the needle as "a broom straw." I don't need to see my skin being punctured with a nine-inch needle, thank you.

T minus 18 hours and counting

Amnio tomorrow morning. Wish me luck!

Chris Trapper

I'm excited to report that Chris Trapper, who canceled the show scheduled for October, has scheduled another for just before Christmas. And apparently he's recorded a Christmas CD, so he'll be playing some of it at the show.

I'm actually looking forward to the Christmas music, since I'm a big (nerdy) fan of Christmas tunes. What I hope, however, is that he's still willing to play the non-Christmas requests that he allows fans to make via his website. My requests will probably include "Forget Me," from his most recent solo CD, Hey You, and a few favorites from his Push Stars days, maybe "Waiting, Watching, Wishing" or "Sofkuri's Room" (sorry, no sample available).

Éste no es el sitio para usted

If you've landed here looking for the lyrics to Scott Blasey's song "San Antonio," I apologize. I've learned through StatCounter that a surprising number of people have come here looking for just that ("lyrics San Antonio Scott Blasey," although not as many as landed here searching for "6dpo" or "Dar Williams setlist"). I did a google search myself to see what was going on and I was surprised to discover that I come up on the first search page because I have the song listed in my most recent playlist on the sidebar.

Again, I apologize. I don't have the lyrics. He has a website. It's www.(hisname).com. Email him. His email is scott@(hisname).com. (I'm not linking to it or writing it out because I don't want him to find out I gave it to you! If you're not smart enough to decipher the "secret code," well then... cough cough... I don't know what to say). But, seriously; he's a chatty guy, he's actually very friendly, and he will probably write you back.

And if this is your question, as far as I can tell the line is "Es la chica para usted," which means "she is the girl for you," but I could be wrong. I failed eleventh grade Spanish, after all.

Better Late Than Never (or early, in some cases)

I can't believe that there's only one more day left in November and I forgot to mention that November is Prematurity Awareness Month. Very fitting, as it's also the month that the Monkeyboy was born -- 6 weeks early.

Visit the March of Dimes. Read the stories of the babies. Purchase a band to commemorate a premature birth or just make a donation. If you're pregnant, learn about what you can do to prevent premature birth.

Climbing down off my soap box...

No Excuses

I really have no excuse for being MIA for so long. I guess I just figured that since NaBloPoMo was shot to hell already, I'd just take the holiday weekend (and then some) off.

Updates:

• The Monkeyboy may or may not have Fifth Disease. He's had cold symptoms for about a week. Then on Sunday he had the "slapped cheeks" look. By Monday it had faded and he had a rash on his torso and legs, as well as a fever. As of yesterday, though, the rash had faded even more, but didn't really have the "lacey" look it was supposed to. Regardless, I've spoken to the PA at my OB's office and I'm having the antibody bloodtest done.
• My amnio is scheduled for December 11. It will be a torturous two week wait to get there, then another torturous two week wait for the results.
• My level II ultrasound is scheduled for December 27.
• I've finished the Harry Potter series. Whew!

Maternity Clothes Rant

Last weekend, I spent time shopping for maternity clothes in order to fill in the gap in my maternity wardrobe so that I have something to wear right now. The capris and short skirts that got me through my late-first-trimester, early-second-trimester, I'm-not-fat-I'm-pregnant awkward stage in my first pregnancy aren't going to cut it in my second. After all, it's not June and July this time, it's November and December.

I'd forgotten that maternity clothes makers seem to have their own set of "What Not to Wear" rules when it comes to dressing the pregnant woman. Apparently, in between hits on their crack pipes, they've made a whole set of assumptions about how pregnant women want to dress.

• Since I'm having a baby, I must want to dress like a baby. Therefore, pastel colors of pink and blue are preferred, as are patterns like cute polka-dots.
• Since my uterus is growing, I must also have grown several inches in height. Therefore, pants are made to come in only one inseam length. Petite (or even "short") maternity clothes are as rare as the pygmy three-toed sloth.
• Since pregnancy has granted me an awesome new rack, I must want to show it off as much as possible, Therefore, all clothes must be extremely low cut or otherwise revealing.
• Since I will be pregnant for a mere forty weeks, I must want to spend as much or more on maternity clothes as I spend on my real wardrobe that I can wear year after year. Therefore, quality maternity clothes will be $90 blouses, $108 jeans and $200 dresses.

Luckily, I was able to find a few choice items of the type of things I had in mind. Hopefully it will be enough to carry me through until I can break out the big clothes.

Nuchal Translucency

(And with a few more days off from work, NaBloPoMo has taken another hit. I hate to think what will happen over Thanksgiving Break.)

Yesterday was my First Trimester Screening (nuchal translucency scan and bloodwork), as well as a regular OB appointment.

I've never had an ultrasound at 12 weeks, so I was glad to see that the two rocks I had a few weeks back have grown into a baby. The nuchal measurement was 1.5 mm, which is good. Now I'm just waiting to get my own personal risk factor after they process my bloodwork. Not that it matters, because I'll be calling to schedule my amnio soon anyway, regardless.

The heartrate on the ultrasound was 160 bpm, but later that afternoon when my OB used the doppler, he told the nurse 148. Maybe the baby was taking a nap at the second appointment. I got a prescription for amnio (I didn't get one last time and don't think I need it, but took it anyway) and also got the order for my 18 week level II ultrasound, so I can call and schedule it over my Christmas Break and not have to take another day off work (I'm running out).

Since my appointment three weeks ago, I've gained another pound and a half. I didn't want to bother the OB about it, but the next time I go in I'll see the PA again and I know she'll humor me and look up my weight gain at various points during my previous pregnancy. I remember being very happy with my rate of weight gain; it never seemed too much or too little. And by the time I delivered at 34 weeks, I had gained 29 pounds. I think if I had gone to term, I would have gained around 35 pounds, which was within the range with which I was comfortable. I just wish I had noted my weight gain somewhere, so I could refer to it now. But I know it's in my chart and I'll have to wait to check it there.

Right before I left the doctor's office, as I was checking out, my OB came back over to me and started flipping through my chart that was lying there on the counter.

"How early did you deliver last time?" He asked, as if he had just remembered that I had delivered prematurely.

"Thirty-four weeks. And five days, I think." Although I know for sure that it was thirty-four weeks and five days. I'm not sure why I felt I had to be obtuse about it.

"Did we ever determine why?" He was still frantically flipping through my chart. At this point, I gave up any pretense of not knowing for sure the details.

"I came in on October 27 for spotting and contractions, and it turned out I had a yeast infection and BV, which I was treated for, although I hadn't had any symptoms of either. Then on November 5 my water broke."

"Well, we're going to monitor you very closely this time." He turned to the nurse, "Put a note in her chart to check her for BV at her 20 weeks appointment."

I didn't mention that at my first appointment, I had the PA check me for BV and yeast, and she said there was "maybe a tiny bit of bacteria up there, but not much" and gave me a prescription for Flagyl anyway. She told me to wait until I was out of the first trimester until I took it, since some doctors believe it may be associated with birth defects if used then. I still haven't taken it. I think I'll start by the fourteenth week, so I know for sure I'm out of the first trimester, no matter how you count, but that it's done its job by the time I have my amnio.

Glad to know

I never actually thought about it, but frankly I'm not surprised to find out that Mimi Maternity and Motherhood Maternity stores welcome breastfeeding. All the same, it's nice to see them advertise it. While shopping today, I saw this sign in the dressing room.

Land of Twins

Igbo-Ora, Nigeria. Soon they'll be offering fertility vacation packages, no doubt.

The rate of identical twins is pretty steady throughout the world at about 0.5 percent of all births, according to a 1995 study by Belgian researcher Fernand Leroy, who has worked extensively on twins.

Overall, almost 5 percent of all Yoruba births produce twins, the Belgian study said, compared with just around 1.2 percent for Western Europe and 0.8 percent for Japan -- although fertility drugs in the developed world are changing those figures.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/afp/20071112/wl_africa_afp/nigeriafamilytwins

http://www.bbc.co.uk/worldservice/people/highlights/010607_twins.shtml

Lyrically Speaking

There's the wind and the rain
And the mercy of the fallen
Who say hey it's not my place to know what's right
There's the weak and the strong
And the many stars that guide us
We have some of them inside us

-- Dar Williams, "Mercy of the Fallen," Beauty of the Rain (2003)

Wakey wakey, hands off... (nevermind)

When I got up last night for my middle-of-the-night-pee (so far, I'm only doing this once per night), I could not get back to sleep. It was 3:30 a.m. and I was wide awake. And still awake at 3:52 a.m. And still awake at 4:17 a.m. The last time I looked at the clock before falling asleep, it was 5:10 a.m.

My alarm goes off at 5:25 a.m.

Over last weekend, I awoke one morning at 6:00 a.m. and lay awake for almost an hour before falling back to sleep. And since this pregnancy has started, it's happened often; early morning wakings where I can't fall back to sleep.

During my pregnancy with the Monkey, I woke two, three, four or more times during the night. Several of those were for bathroom trips, but often it was just to adjust my (five) pillows or shake my hands and arms awake. It was an uncomfortably poetic foreshadowing to the sleep habits of the Monkey. This is a little boy who will sleep in, wonderfully so, but it comes at a price. He sleeps restlessly and wakes often during the night.

Now I find myself wondering if this new sleep impediment of mine is again a foreshadowing of another's future sleep habits. I'm hoping it's not.

Lesson Learned #1

Just get up and go.

When you wake up in the middle of the night because you have to go to the bathroom, just get up and go the first time you wake up. Otherwise, you'll either keep waking up or just lie awake needing to go anyway. Better to just get up and go and get back to sleep.

Yeah, well, I tried

Yes, this weekend I fell off the NaBloPoMo wagon.

It was a busy, busy weekend which I will post an update about. Several updates, in fact. I am going to continue to try to keep up with every other day this month, but decided not to cheat and backdate posts. I will have a couple of posts that were intended for the last two days -- think of them as the "lost episodes" -- to bring me up to date. They'll be posted soon to fill in the gap. Although I didn't accomplish the goal of posting every day, I will have the same total number of posts, so in that way I'll feel like I accomplished something.

Better luck next year.

Lactivism is universal

A golden retriever in Virginia started nursing an orphaned kitten when the kitten wouldn't drink from a bottle. Mom, is that you? Orphaned kitten nursed by local dog

The dog named Honey hadn’t given birth in 18 months — but an orphaned kitten’s cries made her start producing milk.

This just goes to show, anyone can breastfeed if they're determined enough to do it.

All-natural

A few days ago I scheduled my first trimester screening (nuchal translucency scan and bloodwork). I didn't have this done with the Monkey, mainly because it wasn't very common yet two years ago and it wasn't offered. It still wasn't actually offered to me by my doctor, but I found out that the genetic counseling department at the hospital where I delivered now does them, so I asked for one. Last time, we skipped the triple screen and went straight for the amnio (done by the same place where I'll have my NT scan) because I just had to have a definitive answer. We'll still have an amnio done, because the first trimester screening is just that -- a screening where they determine your risk of a defect. An amnio is an actual test. But I have to admit, since it's covered by my insurance, I can't pass up the chance for another early ultrasound. (It sounds so shallow and paranoid when I write it, though).

When I called to schedule this appointment, the genetics department still had most of my medical information in their system. I did have to update it and answer some questions about the current pregnancy, though. Most were the usual, "What was the first day of your last menstrual period?"-type medical history questions.

However, the question that caught me off guard was, "Is this a natural pregnancy?" I knew what she meant, but it still gave me a moment's pause before I could figure out how exactly to answer. "No, I took Clomid."

It's similar to when parents of twins are asked, "Are they natural?" I've told my twin-mommy friend OldChristine that she needs to start answering people with, "One is. The other was made with an unknown glowing substance which fell to Earth, presumably from outer space."

I understand why the question is asked. However, it's the semantics of the question that got me. The language is deliberately vague in an attempt to be polite (like when people say someone has "passed on" rather than died). But I was answering questions about my medical history for Pete's sake. Less vague wording could have been used. How about, "Was this pregnancy the result of any fertility treatments or medications?" I expect precision from the medical community. I'd rather they be straightforward and accurate than condescend in an attempt to spare my feelings. Frankly, we're all smarter than that. (Or at least, I know I am and I hope they are).

Well, we're movin' on up

This morning, the time had come to break out the big bras (the D cups). I was once again digging through the rubbermaid containers of maternity clothes I haven't yet unpacked to find the second piece of maternity I've donned so far (the first being a pair of jeans I wore at home last weekend).

And, aaahhh... so comfy.

Here we go 'round the ligament pain...

With my first pregnancy, I didn't start feeling like crap until around 20 weeks.

It's easy to remember, because I happened to spend two weeks in England with a friend around the mid-way point, having been reassured by my OB that it was, in his words, "the perfect time to take a trip." In most ways it was, but it was also when my arms, wrists and hands first started falling asleep (a harbinger of the carpal tunnel and ulnar neuropathy that would have me crying in the shower many a morning within a month). And it was also when my feet started to really, really hurt by the end of the days spent walking around London or parts more remote, as my feet were starting to spread and swell. When I got home, I realized I had been wearing shoes that had become at least a half size too small for me. But up until that point, I had felt fantastic. A little fatigued during the first trimester, but other than that, nothing to complain about.

This time around, I already feel like crap. And I've felt like crap for, oh... about the last ten weeks and six days (for those of you now trying to do math on your fingers, that's since this game got started). Starting from the Clomid, continuing through the progesterone, I've had fatigue and mild nausea that have exceeded my first go-round. I've had insomnia that didn't strike last time until the third trimester. My breasts hurt continously, making me aware of their presence every moment of my day (it's an odd sensation). But the most fun of all is the round ligament pain. I know I sound like a broken record, but last time I didn't experience this until later, at least until the second trimester (and therefore it was much higher up than I'm feeling it now). Sudden movement is not my friend. Neither are coughing or sneezing.

Overall, however, the discomfort from any of this is not constant and not debilitating (no, debilitating is yet to come, I'm sure, if I use my previous pregnancy as foreshadowing). It just leaves me with a general feeling of malaise. And I really do hate to complain, because no matter what the symptoms, it's still worth it.

Sequels

I'm almost ten weeks into the production of my newest project, Baby 2: Electric Boogaloo. I noticed the other evening, as I finished one novel and picked up the next in my stack of books to read, that recently I've been reading only sequels. This was not intentional on my part, but it is an interesting coincidence. On my list of books I've read (or plan to read), since starting to gestate my very own sequel, are:

The Life of the World to Come by Kage Baker (Book 5 of The Company)

The Children of the Company by Kage Baker (Book 6 of The Company)

The Harlequin by Laurell K. Hamilton (Anita Blake, Book 15)

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by J. K. Rowling (Book 6)*

Home to Big Stone Gap by Adriana Trigiani (Book 4 of the Big Stone Gap novels)

Eclipse by Stephenie Meyer (Twilight Book 3)**

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J. K. Rowling (Book 7)

Lord John and the Brotherhood of the Blade by Diana Gabaldon (Lord John Grey, Book 2)

Lord John and the Hand of Devils by Diana Gabaldon (Lord John Grey, Book 3)

I haven't bought the last three books on the list, so after I finish Home to Big Stone Gap, I need to cough up some money. (The third Lord John book doesn't even come out until the end of November, anyway.) But I'm also lazy (and sometimes cheap), so I may raid my other shelves of unread books to find something to read, before investing money in new ones. There's always the chance that Half.com or Half Price Books will save something special and inexpensive for me.

*This is where I am in my reading so far.
**I'll just borrow this one from the school library.

All I can say is... Eeeeww.

Lance Armstrong has been spotted out (dating?) with Ashley Olsen.

Because of these reports, Lance has been suspended from The List, pending an investigation. I've been toying with the idea of adding Rob Lowe to the Bottom Five, since that commercial for California he's in came out. As of now, Rob is officially the Top Five alternate replacing Lance until his suspension is up, or he is dropped from the list permanently.

Organic Milk as Calendar

If you've never bought organic milk, you need to know that it doesn't expire for six or eight weeks or more from the time you buy it. Last week, when it was still October, I bought several half-gallons that don't expire until 12/05. (Of course, we drink so much milk that we'll finish it probably before 11/05).

I remember when I was pregnant with the Monkeyboy, this served as a sort of rudimentary time-marking system for me. I'd load the milk into our fridge and think, we'll have our amnio before this milk expires. It was especially exciting for me as I got closer to the end of my pregnancy (although I would have been surprised to know how close I really was, since he came six weeks early). Every time I bought milk, it seemed, it was due to expire after we would have a baby living in the house. The concept was just too strange to comprehend.

I remember being struck with the idea that we had essentially invited someone to come live with us for at least the next eighteen years -- someone we hadn't even met yet. It was the equivalent of putting an add in the paper for a roommate and just taking the first person that showed up. Of course, as parents we influence who the baby is both before they are born and as they grow, through the effects of nature and nurture, so they're not really as much of a stranger as a real stranger would be. But, still... you never really know who's going to show up.

We have a fetus!

Actually, we've had a fetus for a couple of days. Wednesdays are the beginnings of my "weeks," and I think fetus status is conferred at ten weeks, one day (which was yesterday), but I forgot to mention it.

I told work today, just because I'm tired of hiding it. I think the ultrasound made me feel more confident, because normally I'd wait until at least the end of the first trimester, which is still twelve days away.

I tried on a pair of maternity jeans this morning, a new pair I bought at the Gap last weekend that have a hidden waistband, so they look pretty much like normal jeans. Even with the waistband adjusted to the smallest setting, they were a tiny little bit loose, but the jeans I'm wearing are starting to be uncomfortable. I usually wear a two (in my favorite, Ralph Lauren Kelly jeans), but when I was preggo with the Monkey, I bought a pair of fours, a pair of sixes and a pair of eights to wear as I grew toward maternity. I'm already in the eights. Soon I'll make the jump to maternity, because I'm tired of being uncomfortable. Thankfully, I can wear jeans and running suits and casual clothes to work, because recently I've had to become very creative with my clothing choices (both for comfort and hide-ability). But now that the cat is out of the bag, I'm a little more free with what I can wear.

C'mon... All the Cool Kids Are Doing It.

November is National Blog Posting Month, or the more lyrical NaBloPoMo. The idea is to post every day. This is going to be a challenge for me (and it is intended as a challenge, so it fulfills its purpose), especially on weekends.

There are a few things that have kept me from regular posting recently. The first was the extreme exhaustion I had during the first eight weeks or so of pregnancy (Thanks, progesterone!). At the same time, I've had a recurrence of pregnancy brain. In addition to throwing my dirty clothes in the garbage rather than the clothes hamper and trying to put the cereal away in the refrigerator, I've felt considerably less creative and witty. When I was expecting the Monkeyboy, I referred to pregnancy as "one long blond moment." The final reason for not posting is just simply not having the time. I've been very busy recently with work, doctor's appointments, a frequently-sick Monkeyboy and Halloween. This reason is the easiest to overcome, however, because I can make it a point to make time.

So, I'm going to try because I think it will be fun and I like a challenge. I'm also going to try to write posts of substance and not merely write something for the sake of posting. We'll see how it goes.