Labor and delivery for my son was traumatic. Scary. Awful. My husband wasn't there. I delivered him in a strange city, and I didn't know whether he was going to live. I had no idea whether I'd get a take-home baby out of the ordeal. I was diagnosed with PTSD following my son's birth, which is hardly surprising. I've been seeing a counselor for it, which has really helped. There are still lingering things, though, which is a big reason I've restarted this blog. I need a place to get my thoughts down.
One of the things that happened during the L&D experience is that I blocked out a lot of unpleasant memories. It wasn't until much later that many of them came back, and they often came back for random reasons. For example:
- I'd forgotten that I got oxygen during labor. The OB was concerned about my son's heart rate. I remember they were having trouble finding it, but I think that was because of his position and small size. I guess his heart rate must have been decelerating, because they gave me oxygen.
- The expression on the OB's face will always stick with me. She just felt so SAD for me. I can remember that. She said to me early on, "At 4cm dilated with a bulging bag of waters, you may not have this baby now. You'll be on bedrest for a long time, though." That obviously turned out not to happen. But I could tell that she just felt awful for me.
- I hadn't taken any birth classes yet, but I had read at one point that pushing was supposed to feel like going to the bathroom. When they told me I needed to get my baby out quickly, that thought came back to me, and he came out with only a few pushes.
- I will never forget thinking, "they're letting me hold my baby in case he dies." I knew that was why they gave him to me. I remember how warm he felt. And so tiny. So so tiny. And I remember thinking, "Why are we wasting time letting me hold him? He needs to be put in an incubator! I'm just being selfish holding him now!"
- I got a big bag of IV fluid after delivery. This memory just came back to me a couple of days ago when I started thinking about how many interventions I'd had during delivery. My OB broke my water and I had an episiotomy. I didn't have any pain medicine, though. Logically, I'm happy with the birth, given the circumstances. Even in the trauma of everything, I never felt pressured for anything. My son needed to be born quickly, given his small size. That was all explained to me. I consented to having my water broken and again to the episiotomy. Even my views on pain medication were respected, which is pretty remarkable given that I gave birth in a hospital I'd never been to with an OB I'd never met.
- I got pitocin following the birth of my son (but not during the birth). I may have been bleeding a lot, and that's why they gave it to me. I don't really remember, though. I remember the contractions with the pitocin after my son's birth were significantly more uncomfortable than the ones during labor. Weird, eh?
- I have no recollection of anything that happened after the first few minutes of my son's life. I remember they got him intubated on a warming bed, and I can still see the vision of the neonatologist working frantically on him. And I can remember the bed beeping. A long steady tone - like the kind you see on TV when someone dies and their heart monitor just shows that steady line. After the first few minutes of watching the doctor work on my son, I don't remember anything else until much later. I was in the recovery room the next time I have memories. I have no idea how I got there.
- I remember how alone I felt in the recovery room. I wanted someone to come in and talk to me. There was a nurse named Rachel (ironic, eh) who kept coming in to talk to me. I wanted her to stay the whole time, but she obviously couldn't. I just didn't want to be alone.
- I asked for a breast pump right away, and, at the time, I was proud of myself for having the foresight to ask for one. I felt so clumsy with it, though - I had no idea what I was doing. The nurse helped me, and I thought she was a bit condescending about it. Not necessarily mean, but she couldn't figure out how I couldn't figure out how to use the pump. It made me want to cry. I remember how happy the nurse was that I got colostrum the first time I pumped. I was surprised that she was surprised. It wasn't until much later that I learned that many many preemie moms have major issues with milk supply / pumping, etc.
- I walked from the recovery room to the NICU where my son was being stabilized (he was going to be transfered, but I got to see him before he left). Everyone kept asking if I wanted a wheelchair. I was genuinely confused as to why. What was supposed to hurt? I didn't hurt anywhere. Was it adrenaline? Maybe.
- The neonatologist who was there for my son's birth came and saw me a few hours later. She told me everything that was going on, and I said to her, "I have a friend who lost a 24 weeker after 8 days. I know I can expect a honeymoon period where everything goes well for a few days, and then things may start to go south." I was so pragmatic about it, but what other choice did I have?
I'm sure more memories will come to me, but that exhausts them for now. It's so hard going back to that time, but I feel like I need to. I'm still not right in the head, and I don't know if I ever will be. Going through the memories helps me to process things, though...
My Pregnancy Ticker
Friday, December 30, 2011
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Baby's birth story
My pregnancy had been quite uneventful, and I'd considered myself to be quite lucky to have had a relatively easy time of it. Then, on January 25, 2011, while out to dinner on a business trip 300 miles from home, I started feeling sharp pain in my hips. I wrote it off as relatively common round ligament pain. When I got back to my hotel, I even filled up the bathtub, thinking that everything would be better after a warm bath. Then, I noticed that I had just a tiny bit of spotting. I decided to drive myself to the hospital to get things checked out. I called my OB back home and my husband – we all agreed that I’d probably be monitored for awhile and sent home with instructions to take it easy for awhile.
I got to the hospital at about 9:30 at night. By that point, I knew something was wrong. I told the admitting nurse, “I think I’m having contractions,” and they wheeled me over to L&D. At first, everyone in L&D seemed to think that what I was experiencing was no big deal. Probably just Braxton Hicks contractions. Then, at about 10pm, they did a cervical check. I was 4cm dilated and my bag of waters was bulging. I remember the OB saying, “at 4cm dilated with a bulging bag of waters, you could still hold out for awhile. You’ll be on bedrest for a long time though.” Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen.
A ferning test soon revealed that my water had broken, and, 15 minutes later, I was 6cm dilated. I barely had time to call my husband to tell him to start the 5 hour drive from our house to the hospital before I was wheeled into the delivery room. I remember asking, “Am I going to have a c-section?” and the OB replied, “No. If you were going to have a c-section, we’d be wheeling you into the operating room.” I remember thinking to myself at this point: WTF? I’ve never been to this hospital before! How am I supposed to know the difference between the ceiling of the delivery room and the ceiling of the operating room? That’s all I’m looking at at this point... It’s amazing the stuff that was going through my head during this whole process. I was extremely lucky that my son had been head down for weeks (he had been kicking me in my ribs for awhile). I didn’t automatically have to have a c-section.
It starts to get hazy at this point, but I can remember the OB asking me what my plan for pain was. I said, “I’d hoped to have an unmedicated birth,” and the L&D nurse said from somewhere behind my head, “At this point, I think she can handle it!” I had to be 8cm dilated or more by that point. I started shaking, and I asked the nurse if I was in transition, and she replied, “That could be it.”
I was at a smaller (but still very good) hospital, so there wasn’t a full-time neonatologist there. They had one on call, and I remember being told several times that she was “10 minutes away.” At the time, I remember thinking that they were lying to me. I knew they were trying to keep me calm. But, regardless, I had to hold out to deliver my son until the neonatologist arrived. I HAD TO.
I didn’t remember it until weeks later, but, at some point during this whole process, they started to get worried about my baby’s heartbeat. His heartbeat had always been hard to find, but it was dropping when I would have a contraction. They gave me an oxygen mask, and then there was talk of me needing to deliver him as quickly as possible.
It must have been after they gave me oxygen that the OB broke my water. The first time only resulted in a little gush of fluid, and then the second attempt ended up with amniotic fluid everywhere. I was surprised then how much fluid there was. After she broke my water, things slowed down. My contractions slowed way down during transition. Logically, I knew that was somewhat expected, but, at the time, I thought She just broke my water! Now I have to deliver! But my contractions are gone! What if this was all a false alarm and she could have stopped my labor? Now I have no choice! Nothing could have been done to stop the labor, but it certainly crossed my mind at that point.
I have no idea if I was 10cm dilated or not when I started pushing. I don’t ever remember having the “urge to push” that you hear about. It was never a physical thing – it was a mental thing. I NEEDED to get my baby out. The OB told me that we were in a rush to get him out, so that became my obsession. I pushed a couple of times. Then, the OB asked if it was okay to give me an episiotomy because it would help get him out faster, and I consented. I hadn’t wanted an episiotomy (it was even on my birth plan that I didn’t want one, as if that mattered at this point), but everything changed when I was having my son. Luckily, I never had any complications from it, and it healed fine.
After just a few pushes (I have no idea how many. 5?), my son (Z) was born. He let out a little wail before the medical team descended on him to stabilize his breathing and get him started on the ventilator. The neonatologist had arrived by this point, so she worked hard to stabilize him. He was on a warming bed, and I could see her working frantically from the other side of the room. The bed was beeping a loud solid tone, and the nurse kept saying to me, “It’s okay, that’s just the bed. It’s okay, that’s just the bed. That’s totally normal.” I vaguely remember delivering the placenta and the OB stitching me up.
They brought Z to me to hold briefly before they took him down to the NICU (the hospital where I delivered had a NICU where they could stabilize him, but it wasn’t equipped to have a 26-weeker stay there). I remember holding him and thinking to myself They’re letting me hold him in case he dies. What an awful thing to think, and that thought stuck with me for weeks. Still does. One of the L&D nurses had an iPhone, and she used it to take a bunch of pictures of everything – I obviously didn’t have a camera on my business trip. She took the very first pictures of my little guy. He was 2lb 8oz and 15 inches long at birth. Both of these were in the 97th percentile, and he was so big that there were some questions as to whether my due date was wrong. It wasn’t (it’d been confirmed with a dating ultrasound) - we were just very fortunate.
I have no idea how I got to the recovery room, but I got there somehow. Later, when my sister arrived (coincidentally, she lives about 2 hours from the hospital where I delivered), we were able to go to the hospitals NICU to see Z. There was a nurse holding IV lines in his umbilical cord, which seemed strange to me. I got to touch him for the very first time, but I was too numb to feel much emotion at that point. It wasn’t until MUCH MUCH later that I could say that I fell in love with my son.
While in recovery, the neonatologist came to see me. She had a little post-it note with Z's length, weight, and birth time (11:38pm). I still have it. I have no idea what she said to me, but I remember that she projected a sort of “wait and see” attitude. She wasn’t overly optimistic or pessimistic – she just said that we’d know more later. I said to her, “I have a friend who had a 24-weeker that didn’t make it. I know we’re in for a possible honeymoon period, and things might get worse after that.” She agreed. She was very caring and concerned, and I’ll never forget her.
I saw Z one more time that night. He was packed up in a transport isolette, and they wheeled him to my room so I could see him before he was transferred. I looked at him a bit, and then thought Why are they still here? They need to leave so they can get him to the good hospital. I think the transport team was surprised that I wasn’t more emotional. I was truly in shock. Later, I was diagnosed with PTSD, and the L&D experience were a big reason why.
My husband made it to the hospital at about 4am, and my parents arrived a few hours after that. My husband and I lived in a hotel for the 70 days our son was in the NICU, and we had a very uneventful all-day drive to bring him home on April 6, 2011. Our NICU stay was extremely easy for a baby born that early. He was only on the vent for a few days, then spent the rest of the time on the CPAP, high flow nasal canula, and regular canula. He had a grade 1 brain bleed that resolved on its own a few weeks later. No other issues. He had to coordinate his suck-swallow-breathe rhythm and learn to breathe on his own before we were discharged, and we never had any complications. He was sent home on oxygen with his feeds, and we discontinued that a few weeks after he got home.
Today, Z is a thriving 11-month-old. He’s learning to crawl and is an incredibly happy baby. He’s been followed closely by his pediatrician, the local NICU, and the local Early Intervention program. He’s never had any delays or required any therapy. While he isn’t completely caught up yet, he will be very soon. We’ve been incredibly fortunate.
I got to the hospital at about 9:30 at night. By that point, I knew something was wrong. I told the admitting nurse, “I think I’m having contractions,” and they wheeled me over to L&D. At first, everyone in L&D seemed to think that what I was experiencing was no big deal. Probably just Braxton Hicks contractions. Then, at about 10pm, they did a cervical check. I was 4cm dilated and my bag of waters was bulging. I remember the OB saying, “at 4cm dilated with a bulging bag of waters, you could still hold out for awhile. You’ll be on bedrest for a long time though.” Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen.
A ferning test soon revealed that my water had broken, and, 15 minutes later, I was 6cm dilated. I barely had time to call my husband to tell him to start the 5 hour drive from our house to the hospital before I was wheeled into the delivery room. I remember asking, “Am I going to have a c-section?” and the OB replied, “No. If you were going to have a c-section, we’d be wheeling you into the operating room.” I remember thinking to myself at this point: WTF? I’ve never been to this hospital before! How am I supposed to know the difference between the ceiling of the delivery room and the ceiling of the operating room? That’s all I’m looking at at this point... It’s amazing the stuff that was going through my head during this whole process. I was extremely lucky that my son had been head down for weeks (he had been kicking me in my ribs for awhile). I didn’t automatically have to have a c-section.
It starts to get hazy at this point, but I can remember the OB asking me what my plan for pain was. I said, “I’d hoped to have an unmedicated birth,” and the L&D nurse said from somewhere behind my head, “At this point, I think she can handle it!” I had to be 8cm dilated or more by that point. I started shaking, and I asked the nurse if I was in transition, and she replied, “That could be it.”
I was at a smaller (but still very good) hospital, so there wasn’t a full-time neonatologist there. They had one on call, and I remember being told several times that she was “10 minutes away.” At the time, I remember thinking that they were lying to me. I knew they were trying to keep me calm. But, regardless, I had to hold out to deliver my son until the neonatologist arrived. I HAD TO.
I didn’t remember it until weeks later, but, at some point during this whole process, they started to get worried about my baby’s heartbeat. His heartbeat had always been hard to find, but it was dropping when I would have a contraction. They gave me an oxygen mask, and then there was talk of me needing to deliver him as quickly as possible.
It must have been after they gave me oxygen that the OB broke my water. The first time only resulted in a little gush of fluid, and then the second attempt ended up with amniotic fluid everywhere. I was surprised then how much fluid there was. After she broke my water, things slowed down. My contractions slowed way down during transition. Logically, I knew that was somewhat expected, but, at the time, I thought She just broke my water! Now I have to deliver! But my contractions are gone! What if this was all a false alarm and she could have stopped my labor? Now I have no choice! Nothing could have been done to stop the labor, but it certainly crossed my mind at that point.
I have no idea if I was 10cm dilated or not when I started pushing. I don’t ever remember having the “urge to push” that you hear about. It was never a physical thing – it was a mental thing. I NEEDED to get my baby out. The OB told me that we were in a rush to get him out, so that became my obsession. I pushed a couple of times. Then, the OB asked if it was okay to give me an episiotomy because it would help get him out faster, and I consented. I hadn’t wanted an episiotomy (it was even on my birth plan that I didn’t want one, as if that mattered at this point), but everything changed when I was having my son. Luckily, I never had any complications from it, and it healed fine.
After just a few pushes (I have no idea how many. 5?), my son (Z) was born. He let out a little wail before the medical team descended on him to stabilize his breathing and get him started on the ventilator. The neonatologist had arrived by this point, so she worked hard to stabilize him. He was on a warming bed, and I could see her working frantically from the other side of the room. The bed was beeping a loud solid tone, and the nurse kept saying to me, “It’s okay, that’s just the bed. It’s okay, that’s just the bed. That’s totally normal.” I vaguely remember delivering the placenta and the OB stitching me up.
They brought Z to me to hold briefly before they took him down to the NICU (the hospital where I delivered had a NICU where they could stabilize him, but it wasn’t equipped to have a 26-weeker stay there). I remember holding him and thinking to myself They’re letting me hold him in case he dies. What an awful thing to think, and that thought stuck with me for weeks. Still does. One of the L&D nurses had an iPhone, and she used it to take a bunch of pictures of everything – I obviously didn’t have a camera on my business trip. She took the very first pictures of my little guy. He was 2lb 8oz and 15 inches long at birth. Both of these were in the 97th percentile, and he was so big that there were some questions as to whether my due date was wrong. It wasn’t (it’d been confirmed with a dating ultrasound) - we were just very fortunate.
I have no idea how I got to the recovery room, but I got there somehow. Later, when my sister arrived (coincidentally, she lives about 2 hours from the hospital where I delivered), we were able to go to the hospitals NICU to see Z. There was a nurse holding IV lines in his umbilical cord, which seemed strange to me. I got to touch him for the very first time, but I was too numb to feel much emotion at that point. It wasn’t until MUCH MUCH later that I could say that I fell in love with my son.
While in recovery, the neonatologist came to see me. She had a little post-it note with Z's length, weight, and birth time (11:38pm). I still have it. I have no idea what she said to me, but I remember that she projected a sort of “wait and see” attitude. She wasn’t overly optimistic or pessimistic – she just said that we’d know more later. I said to her, “I have a friend who had a 24-weeker that didn’t make it. I know we’re in for a possible honeymoon period, and things might get worse after that.” She agreed. She was very caring and concerned, and I’ll never forget her.
I saw Z one more time that night. He was packed up in a transport isolette, and they wheeled him to my room so I could see him before he was transferred. I looked at him a bit, and then thought Why are they still here? They need to leave so they can get him to the good hospital. I think the transport team was surprised that I wasn’t more emotional. I was truly in shock. Later, I was diagnosed with PTSD, and the L&D experience were a big reason why.
My husband made it to the hospital at about 4am, and my parents arrived a few hours after that. My husband and I lived in a hotel for the 70 days our son was in the NICU, and we had a very uneventful all-day drive to bring him home on April 6, 2011. Our NICU stay was extremely easy for a baby born that early. He was only on the vent for a few days, then spent the rest of the time on the CPAP, high flow nasal canula, and regular canula. He had a grade 1 brain bleed that resolved on its own a few weeks later. No other issues. He had to coordinate his suck-swallow-breathe rhythm and learn to breathe on his own before we were discharged, and we never had any complications. He was sent home on oxygen with his feeds, and we discontinued that a few weeks after he got home.
Today, Z is a thriving 11-month-old. He’s learning to crawl and is an incredibly happy baby. He’s been followed closely by his pediatrician, the local NICU, and the local Early Intervention program. He’s never had any delays or required any therapy. While he isn’t completely caught up yet, he will be very soon. We’ve been incredibly fortunate.
Reviving this blog (almost a year later)
It's been almost a year since I posted on this blog. I think about it pretty frequently, though. After my baby was born 14 weeks early, I stopped posting. Things were too chaotic while my son was in the NICU. I'm not even sure if anyone reads this blog anymore, but I've revived it as a way to work through some of the lingering PTSD and other feelings I have from both the traumatic birth of my son and the NICU experience. I'm not sure if I'll be posting pictures of my son or not - we'll just see where things go. It'll be pretty tough to avoid bragging about my little guy, though. :-)
Stay tuned...
Stay tuned...
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
This is why we need a baby
Yes, that's a baby swing. And, yes, that's a kitten in it.
I'd say it's time for a baby, wouldn't you?
I'd say it's time for a baby, wouldn't you?
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Good guess!
At the gym here in Pleasantville, there are definitely some regulars. Since I'm definitely one of the regulars, there's a group of a couple dozen people that I see there pretty frequently.
The other day at the gym, I ran into a man that I'd seen there multiple times. I'd occasionally make small talk with him, and, on that particular day, after saying, "Hi," he looked down at my belly and said, "Five and a half months!"
To which I replied, "Great memory! Wait...did I even tell you that?"
He responded, "No, you didn't tell me. I did one of my residency rotations in obstetrics."
He'd guessed how far along I was. To the day. It was crazy. My husband pointed out that it was somewhat coincidental, but still.
It makes me feel good that he didn't guess that I'm seven or eight months along, that's for sure.
The other day at the gym, I ran into a man that I'd seen there multiple times. I'd occasionally make small talk with him, and, on that particular day, after saying, "Hi," he looked down at my belly and said, "Five and a half months!"
To which I replied, "Great memory! Wait...did I even tell you that?"
He responded, "No, you didn't tell me. I did one of my residency rotations in obstetrics."
He'd guessed how far along I was. To the day. It was crazy. My husband pointed out that it was somewhat coincidental, but still.
It makes me feel good that he didn't guess that I'm seven or eight months along, that's for sure.
Monday, January 17, 2011
25 weeks 2 days
Almost to double digits! As of today, I only have 103 days left to go in this pregnancy. Here's the picture from this week:
I'm still feeling pretty good, which makes me happy. In just the last few days, rolling over in bed has gotten a bit uncomfortable, and I'm feeling constant pressure right under my rib cage. I feel like I want to raise my hands over my head all the time - like I need to stretch out my stomach. I'm sure that feeling is only going to get worse over the coming months. It hasn't been too bad yet, though, so I shouldn't complain.
I'm still working out, still wearing heels. For some reason, those are the barometers I'm using to gauge how "normal" I am. As long as I can do those things, then I think I'm doing well.
I'm still feeling pretty good, which makes me happy. In just the last few days, rolling over in bed has gotten a bit uncomfortable, and I'm feeling constant pressure right under my rib cage. I feel like I want to raise my hands over my head all the time - like I need to stretch out my stomach. I'm sure that feeling is only going to get worse over the coming months. It hasn't been too bad yet, though, so I shouldn't complain.
I'm still working out, still wearing heels. For some reason, those are the barometers I'm using to gauge how "normal" I am. As long as I can do those things, then I think I'm doing well.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Crossing things off the list(s)
Slowly, we're crossing things off of our "To Do Before Baby" and "To Buy Before Baby" lists, but it's still a bit overwhelming. There's a lot to do! And a lot to buy still!
From the "To Do Before Baby" list, we still have to do are finish the wills and powers of attorney that we're having drafted, and we have to get my husband life insurance. The hardest piece of those has been locating a reasonably-priced attorney for the wills and powers of attorney. The first price quote I got was outrageous, but we ended up finding another lawyer who can do it for much less. Since we don't really have much in terms of an estate (and nothing we own is complicated), we can get all of the proper documents drafted, notarized, etc. for just a few hundred dollars.
The process with the attorney has led to another thing we need to do, though: Figure out how to get my husband access to my retirement accounts in the event I'm incapacitated. If I die, they automatically go to him. If I'm in a coma, though, the situation is much more complicated. I have retirement accounts with two companies. One of these will accept a power of attorney (although they ask that you send it in to them in advance), whereas the other requires that I add my husband as a "delegate" to my account. Two very different situations that have to be managed differently.
From the "To Buy Before Baby" list, nearly everything centers around the nursery. We still need to get a dresser, and maybe a lamp or two. And some wall art. We're getting here in this category, too.
The complicating factor with the "To Buy" list is that it's nearly impossible to get everything from one place, so we're running around buying things from different websites, stores, etc. For example, the crib mattress that we already bought is not sold in Babies R Us or Target - we had to order it online. We're going to be getting the dresser from Amazon by using some of our credit card gift certificates. My health insurance covers a breast pump, and I can get it with a discount if I buy it through work. The baby wrap that I want is actually only made in New Zealand (you can read about them here), and the only place I've found to buy them here in the US is at a specific online store. If we still lived in a big city, there would likely be a specialty baby store that would sell these types of wraps (they're actually pretty well-known), but, here in Pleasantville, the best option seems to be to buy them online. I wish I could see the wrap before I buy it, but I guess I'll just have to trust that it'll be fine.
The last big thing we need to get is huge: A new car for me. I've decided on this one:
It's an Infiniti G37 sedan. My car is in great shape (it's a 2004 and has a little over 100,000 miles on it). I can't believe I've kept it this long, and I'd keep it for another 5 years if I could. Unfortunately, it's a 2-door, and a small one at that. If we really couldn't afford a new car, we'd keep it and make due. But, a new car is something I really should get. I'm trying to wait until the spring, though, because I suspect that the car I buy is going to come with summer tires. I don't want to have to buy the car AND new tires and rims at the same time - I'd rather spread the pain out a bit.
Wow, that turned into a pretty long post, and it's a little overwhelming to see all of that stuff all written out. We'll get there, though!
From the "To Do Before Baby" list, we still have to do are finish the wills and powers of attorney that we're having drafted, and we have to get my husband life insurance. The hardest piece of those has been locating a reasonably-priced attorney for the wills and powers of attorney. The first price quote I got was outrageous, but we ended up finding another lawyer who can do it for much less. Since we don't really have much in terms of an estate (and nothing we own is complicated), we can get all of the proper documents drafted, notarized, etc. for just a few hundred dollars.
The process with the attorney has led to another thing we need to do, though: Figure out how to get my husband access to my retirement accounts in the event I'm incapacitated. If I die, they automatically go to him. If I'm in a coma, though, the situation is much more complicated. I have retirement accounts with two companies. One of these will accept a power of attorney (although they ask that you send it in to them in advance), whereas the other requires that I add my husband as a "delegate" to my account. Two very different situations that have to be managed differently.
From the "To Buy Before Baby" list, nearly everything centers around the nursery. We still need to get a dresser, and maybe a lamp or two. And some wall art. We're getting here in this category, too.
The complicating factor with the "To Buy" list is that it's nearly impossible to get everything from one place, so we're running around buying things from different websites, stores, etc. For example, the crib mattress that we already bought is not sold in Babies R Us or Target - we had to order it online. We're going to be getting the dresser from Amazon by using some of our credit card gift certificates. My health insurance covers a breast pump, and I can get it with a discount if I buy it through work. The baby wrap that I want is actually only made in New Zealand (you can read about them here), and the only place I've found to buy them here in the US is at a specific online store. If we still lived in a big city, there would likely be a specialty baby store that would sell these types of wraps (they're actually pretty well-known), but, here in Pleasantville, the best option seems to be to buy them online. I wish I could see the wrap before I buy it, but I guess I'll just have to trust that it'll be fine.
The last big thing we need to get is huge: A new car for me. I've decided on this one:
It's an Infiniti G37 sedan. My car is in great shape (it's a 2004 and has a little over 100,000 miles on it). I can't believe I've kept it this long, and I'd keep it for another 5 years if I could. Unfortunately, it's a 2-door, and a small one at that. If we really couldn't afford a new car, we'd keep it and make due. But, a new car is something I really should get. I'm trying to wait until the spring, though, because I suspect that the car I buy is going to come with summer tires. I don't want to have to buy the car AND new tires and rims at the same time - I'd rather spread the pain out a bit.
Wow, that turned into a pretty long post, and it's a little overwhelming to see all of that stuff all written out. We'll get there, though!
Saturday, January 8, 2011
24 weeks (and happy V-Day!)
Today is a big milestone - 24 weeks of pregnancy. As I've mentioned before, this day is sometimes called V-Day (for "Viability Day"), because the earliest of the early micropremies CAN sometimes survive if born at this point. It isn't a certainty by any means, though. I talked about this milestone here. In the time since I wrote that post, I've learned that the little girl who I mentioned as having passed away just before 24 weeks was actually born at exactly 24 weeks of gestation. As I said, it's far from certain that a baby born this early would survive - less than 40% from the research I've done. It isn't until 27 weeks that the survival rate hits 90%, so perhaps that's a better milestone.
All that scary stuff aside, I have to remember that I haven't had any complications. My cervix looked great at my anatomy scan, and I have no reason to believe the rest of the pregnancy won't go well, too. In some ways, you HAVE to be in denial about all of the potential complications of pregnancy, or you'd psych yourself out of every having a child. Things have gone well so far, and I have to assume it's going to continue to go well.
Here's this week's picture:
I'm still feeling great. I still go to the gym five days a week, and I'm still lifting weights on four of those days. Both the midwives and the OB have said that I can continue my gym routine, so I have been (with a few modifications). I had a little bit of a rough time earlier this week, though. I don't fit in one of the glute machines anymore, so I decided to switch to lunges. It's been YEARS since I've done lunges, and I was SO SORE after doing them that first time. And, I couldn't take any Advil for it, which made it worse. I suffered through it, and I've done lunges a couple of times since. I haven't been sore again, so it just took one session of lunges for my body to get used to the new exercise.
I'm also still wearing high heels at work, which has elicited a bunch of comments. Why wouldn't I wear them still? Supposedly, your balance is thrown off during pregnancy. Anyone who knows me in real life, though, will attest to my clumsiness and complete lack of balance when I'm NOT pregnant. It hasn't really gotten worse since I've been pregnant. Besides, I have to wear boots to the office because of the snow, so I'm really only wearing them while I'm in the building. Plus, I sit at a desk all day. My pants are hemmed to the length of high heels (even my maternity pants), and I'm really really hoping I don't have to re-hem them all for flats.
All in all, things are going great!
All that scary stuff aside, I have to remember that I haven't had any complications. My cervix looked great at my anatomy scan, and I have no reason to believe the rest of the pregnancy won't go well, too. In some ways, you HAVE to be in denial about all of the potential complications of pregnancy, or you'd psych yourself out of every having a child. Things have gone well so far, and I have to assume it's going to continue to go well.
Here's this week's picture:
I'm still feeling great. I still go to the gym five days a week, and I'm still lifting weights on four of those days. Both the midwives and the OB have said that I can continue my gym routine, so I have been (with a few modifications). I had a little bit of a rough time earlier this week, though. I don't fit in one of the glute machines anymore, so I decided to switch to lunges. It's been YEARS since I've done lunges, and I was SO SORE after doing them that first time. And, I couldn't take any Advil for it, which made it worse. I suffered through it, and I've done lunges a couple of times since. I haven't been sore again, so it just took one session of lunges for my body to get used to the new exercise.
I'm also still wearing high heels at work, which has elicited a bunch of comments. Why wouldn't I wear them still? Supposedly, your balance is thrown off during pregnancy. Anyone who knows me in real life, though, will attest to my clumsiness and complete lack of balance when I'm NOT pregnant. It hasn't really gotten worse since I've been pregnant. Besides, I have to wear boots to the office because of the snow, so I'm really only wearing them while I'm in the building. Plus, I sit at a desk all day. My pants are hemmed to the length of high heels (even my maternity pants), and I'm really really hoping I don't have to re-hem them all for flats.
All in all, things are going great!
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
The challenges of being a daddy
One of the things that I'm most excited about with having a baby is the chance to see my husband as a daddy. I've known from very early on in our relationship that my husband will be an AMAZING father. He has unending patience and is really willing to do all of the fun and not-so-fun parts of being a parent. In fact, he is going to be a stay-at-home dad, which is relatively common of fathers at the company where I work. While it's nowhere near as stay-at-home moms, there are plenty of dads who stay home with their kids at this company.
The part that makes me sad, though, is the total lack of support the greater society gives to dads in general, and especially to stay-at-home dads. For example:
1) Very few baby products address the needs of fathers. As an example, we were lucky enough to receive a high chair for Christmas (thanks Grandma!). On the box, there was a list of features "For Baby" and a list of features "For Mom." Why couldn't it say "For Parents"? It's like dads don't matter.
2) Dads don't get a vote in decision-making with child choices. We've decided to donate our child's cord blood to a public bank. In order to do this, you need to call the cord bank and request a collection kit. My husband called today, and THEY WOULDN'T GIVE IT TO HIM. I have to call. I'm still furious about this one.
3) When moms take care of their kids, it's parenting. When dads take care of their kids, it's "babysitting."
4) At many restaurants, there is a changing table in the women's restroom, but there isn't one in the men's restroom. In those situations, I suggested to my husband that he change the baby on one of the tables in the restaurant. His idea was to look around the restaurant for a baby with a clean diaper, and swap them.
5) When I tell people we're having a boy, one of the responses I get is "Oh, your husband must be so happy!" While it's certainly true that he's thrilled, he also would have been thrilled if it were a girl. He's just happy we're having a healthy child.
6) Dad's are regularly disinvited from playgroups. That is, if a group of moms gets together to have their kids play together, dads are discouraged from attending. In fact, they're often specifically told not to come.
I realize that I'm lucky to have such an involved husband, but I also know that he's far from the only one. Why isn't there more support out there for dads?
Unbelievable. I guess I'm just in a feminist mood this evening.
The part that makes me sad, though, is the total lack of support the greater society gives to dads in general, and especially to stay-at-home dads. For example:
1) Very few baby products address the needs of fathers. As an example, we were lucky enough to receive a high chair for Christmas (thanks Grandma!). On the box, there was a list of features "For Baby" and a list of features "For Mom." Why couldn't it say "For Parents"? It's like dads don't matter.
2) Dads don't get a vote in decision-making with child choices. We've decided to donate our child's cord blood to a public bank. In order to do this, you need to call the cord bank and request a collection kit. My husband called today, and THEY WOULDN'T GIVE IT TO HIM. I have to call. I'm still furious about this one.
3) When moms take care of their kids, it's parenting. When dads take care of their kids, it's "babysitting."
4) At many restaurants, there is a changing table in the women's restroom, but there isn't one in the men's restroom. In those situations, I suggested to my husband that he change the baby on one of the tables in the restaurant. His idea was to look around the restaurant for a baby with a clean diaper, and swap them.
5) When I tell people we're having a boy, one of the responses I get is "Oh, your husband must be so happy!" While it's certainly true that he's thrilled, he also would have been thrilled if it were a girl. He's just happy we're having a healthy child.
6) Dad's are regularly disinvited from playgroups. That is, if a group of moms gets together to have their kids play together, dads are discouraged from attending. In fact, they're often specifically told not to come.
I realize that I'm lucky to have such an involved husband, but I also know that he's far from the only one. Why isn't there more support out there for dads?
Unbelievable. I guess I'm just in a feminist mood this evening.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
24 week appointment
I had another regularly-scheduled doctor's appointment today, and it pretty much coincided with my 24th week of pregnancy. Everything looked good. I'm measuring right on track, and baby's heart rate was about 140 bpm. My blood pressure was good, too - 110/62. I had a bunch of questions for the midwife, and she was absolutely awesome about answering them.
I've been SO happy with our decision to go with midwives for the delivery of the baby. Their attitude about birth is exactly aligned with mine - birth is NOT an emergency in nearly all cases, so there's no reason for a ton of intervention that may not be necessary. The hospital we've chosen has a great NICU if something goes wrong, but, in the highly likely situation where things progress normally, the midwives will be able to help deliver the baby.
The other crazy thing is that it's really sinking in how far along I am in this pregnancy. I've scheduled my next appointment for about 3 weeks from now, and, after that, I start going in for biweekly appointments. Why? Because I'll be in the THIRD TRIMESTER. I can't believe how fast things are going. Our new baby boy will be here in just a few months, and I feel like there are so many things to do in the meantime. Oh well - we'll get there. Everyone does.
I've been SO happy with our decision to go with midwives for the delivery of the baby. Their attitude about birth is exactly aligned with mine - birth is NOT an emergency in nearly all cases, so there's no reason for a ton of intervention that may not be necessary. The hospital we've chosen has a great NICU if something goes wrong, but, in the highly likely situation where things progress normally, the midwives will be able to help deliver the baby.
The other crazy thing is that it's really sinking in how far along I am in this pregnancy. I've scheduled my next appointment for about 3 weeks from now, and, after that, I start going in for biweekly appointments. Why? Because I'll be in the THIRD TRIMESTER. I can't believe how fast things are going. Our new baby boy will be here in just a few months, and I feel like there are so many things to do in the meantime. Oh well - we'll get there. Everyone does.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
23 weeks and 1 day!
I've been pretty lax in posting belly pictures lately. I blame the holidays. In any case, here's the latest one that was taken today - it's at 23 weeks and 1 day.
When I see that picture, my thought is, "Wow, am I really that big?" I don't feel as big as I apparently look. I'm up about 18 pounds, which is pretty much on track. I've basically come to terms with the idea that I'm going to be gaining on the high end (35 pounds) rather than the minimum of 25 pounds. That's okay. At least, that's what I keep telling myself.
I'm feeling good, for the most part. I'm comfortable when I sit and comfortable when I stand, but it's starting to get a little uncomfortable to switch between the two. Standing up after sitting for awhile can be a little painful, but not too bad. I still think I've been really lucky.
I'm still going to the gym all the time (5x a week, although it was disrupted a bit because of the holidays). I'm still lifting weights, too, although I've had to make some modifications because of my belly. I actually have found that I have a lot of energy now, which I've been using to reorganize the house and get in some long workouts. I'm not sure how long this energy is going to last.
I did have a bit of a milestone yesterday. While cooking, I dropped some food. It missed my chest and landed on my belly. That's definitely new. It's the little things, I guess...
When I see that picture, my thought is, "Wow, am I really that big?" I don't feel as big as I apparently look. I'm up about 18 pounds, which is pretty much on track. I've basically come to terms with the idea that I'm going to be gaining on the high end (35 pounds) rather than the minimum of 25 pounds. That's okay. At least, that's what I keep telling myself.
I'm feeling good, for the most part. I'm comfortable when I sit and comfortable when I stand, but it's starting to get a little uncomfortable to switch between the two. Standing up after sitting for awhile can be a little painful, but not too bad. I still think I've been really lucky.
I'm still going to the gym all the time (5x a week, although it was disrupted a bit because of the holidays). I'm still lifting weights, too, although I've had to make some modifications because of my belly. I actually have found that I have a lot of energy now, which I've been using to reorganize the house and get in some long workouts. I'm not sure how long this energy is going to last.
I did have a bit of a milestone yesterday. While cooking, I dropped some food. It missed my chest and landed on my belly. That's definitely new. It's the little things, I guess...
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