My Birthing Story Part II

[*DISCLAIMER* I am very open and honest about MY birthing story. And that is all it is - mine. Every single person's story is different and I hear it is very different for each child as well. If you don't want to be...disturbed...by my opinion, read no further and just know that giving birth is "a miracle."]

So in went the Cervidil.... (That hurt) and out went the lights. As if I could sleep. My mom was with me, my father stopped up and both of my sister's were there. Eventually, everyone but my mother left to go home and get some sleep before all the action began. I finally tried to sleep as well and must have fallen off, expecting to wake up a few times during the night before the 10 a.m. check. 

But then 1 a.m. happened. My mom was sleeping in a chair in the room and I woke up uncomfortable. I was having some contractions (I guessed that's what they were) and so I woke her to tell her. She said "ok, try to sleep for a bit more" and went back to sleep. Great. The nurse checked me at 1 a.m. and said my cervix was completely thinned and I was contracting. Good news: she could remove the Cervidil. Bad news: that frigging hurt. Big time. She was literally in there digging around for it, saying things like, "I can feel it. I just can't...quite...get it." She said "sorry" a lot. I wanted to kick her in the face. Meanwhile, I am contracting through all of this removal. I swear the Cervidil was the size of a baby - it must have been. She hurt me. She was super nice, but she hurt me. 

From 1 a.m. until about 4 a.m., I kept having contractions and they were becoming increasingly uncomfortable. I was doing the breathing I learned in my birthing class but my contractions weren't following the rules as nicely. They are supposed to come every few minutes with a break in between. Contraction comes - you breathe - contraction ends - all is wonderful and you prepare for the next cycle. But not so much. I would have a contraction, breathe through it, it would go down and then - immediately - another one would start. Sometimes it was two back-to-back, sometimes three. But it threw me off my game! How could I breathe, telling myself I'd get a break in just one minute, when I wasn't getting the damned break?! Damn rule-breaking contractions. At some point before 6 a.m. I was checked again (that hurts) and was at 3 cm. Progress. Good. I think.

At about 6 a.m. the labor and delivery nurse that I knew (Carolyn) came in and took over. She said, "I'm just going to check you." But that meant I had to move. So I said no. She said she had to. I said no. Her and my mom bullied me into trying. I got into position and then had a contractions. Carolyn said (watching the monitor), "It's coming down, Elizabeth and as soon as it ends, I am going to check." I informed her that no  - she was not going to because another one was going to come right away. I knew it. She tried, I refused. Sorry, Carolyn, nothing personal but when I was having contractions, I was actively trying not to die and that takes all my concentration. I can't also worry about cooperating with you. My negotiations was, "If you give me Demerol, then you can check me." She agreed and gave it to me intravenously. (Mind you, I went into labor saying I did not want any pain meds, besides the epidural. However, a woman has a right to change her mind!)

The Demerol helped in the sense that I then had an out-of-body experience. Don't laugh - it really happened. One minute, I was still actively trying not to die. The next minute, I snapped back into reality and felt the pain. But time had passed in between there and I knew it was "painless" time so the moment I came back, I was all, "Ugh - I want to go back to wherever the hell I just was!!" 

Well, turns out, when I was finally drugged up enough to allow Carolyn to check me, I was very far along. She didn't tell me the number but I think that was because it probably would have been past the point of getting me the epidural I had been asking for since I hit 30 weeks in my pregnancy and so she may have fudged my progress to the anesthesiologist. I love Carolyn. Then, it was all a rush. A frantic call to the anesthesiologist, everyone looking for the doctor - I knew things were happening around me. But I was in my own world, trying to breathe, trying not to die, trying to listen to what Carolyn said because I knew enough to know that I was no longer in control. She talked me through the epidural. That was one of the things I was most frightened of while being pregnant - getting the epi. But I tell you my lips to God's ears, if the doctor would have told me it had to be inserted into my retina, I would have held my eye open for him. I was in so much pain that it didn't faze me in the least. I laid back down, telling Carolyn that my body was pushing (I wasn't. My body was.) and waited for the sweet relief that is supposed to be an epidural.

Never came. I immediately started pushing. I told Carolyn that I still felt pain - a lot of it. I explained the triangle-of-hell on my lower left side right by my pelvis; I felt every contraction there. Every one. She explained that they "missed a spot" with the epi but they did not have time to re-do it as I was already pushing. Great. Just great. Who the EFF "misses a spot" with something so important? Seriously - remind me to thank him later.

I then pushed for about three hours. Or that's what they all tell me at least. I remember every contraction, every "take a breath in and PUSH, Elizabeth," every wave of nausea - but I had no sense of time. None. I used to hear stories of women who were in labor for 9 hours, or 12 or 24. But time wasn't really the issue for me - I didn't feel time. I felt the intense damn contractions and then the overwhelming NEED to push. It's a need, not a want. They told me "the head is right there" for what felt like 6 hours. Then they said, "the head is coming" for another 2. My mom and my sister took turns holding my hand or my leg or my whatever and watching "the show" down below. At that point, I didn't care who was in the room or what they saw. I was trying to not die - that takes up pretty much all of your concentration.

Finally, I felt the head. Or what I actually felt was a watermelon trapped inside my damned vagina, which would NOT just open and cooperate. I felt Carolyn "helping" my vagina, but to no avail. The watermelon was stuck. As it so happens, the watermelon was also on fire because it was BURNING down there. Burning. I asked how much longer and the doctor said, "that's really up to you." I took that as a challenge. I wanted that damned burning watermelon OUT. So I pushed like I no longer cared - didn't care if I pooped (also something I thought I would care about. Turns out? Not my problem in that moment), didn't care if I vomited (I didn't), didn't care if I passed out, I honestly didn't care if I died. As long as I beat the watermelon first. So I pushed and pushed and finally....I felt it. I also heard it. (They don't tell you that part anywhere - birth has sounds. They do not need to be described. I will let you discover your own sounds when you give birth.) I won. The watermelon broke through. The fire was out. I then felt (and heard!) a slimy alien being quickly slipped out - once the head is out, I will deliver a baby any day, by the way. So if you can get that far, I will gladly take over. Cake. 

My sister said, "They don't know what the baby is..." because, of course, the gender was a surprise. And here was my favorite part: My mother was standing to my left and I knew it was a girl by the look on her face. All I had to do was watch her watch the baby. Then she made eye contact with me and her face was the definition of "lit up." I started crying right away. "It's a girl...?" I asked, but I already knew. She mouthed, "it's a GIRL!" I could have died in that moment and been happy. I swear. It sounds so ridiculous, but after all of that - all of the pain and the work and the sweat and the sounds and the energy - and you did it? You actually did it? I could have died. 

I actually look like I labored. Not like some obnoxious people (my sister, my cousin). But this was our first kiss!

My sister holding my lil Aunt Jemima moments after I pushed her out.

My baby looked like Aunt Jemima when they handed her to me. Swear. I was like, "Where did this baby come from?" But God, I loved her. It wasn't "instantly" like some people say because that implies I hadn't loved her until that moment. I think it was more of a realization - I realized how much I already loved this little peanut chew the whole time. She was mine. I was hers. And so, that's how I became a momma. Worst damn experience of my life, but best damn day.

Love,
Momma and Juliette
XOXO

My Birthing Story Part I

...And so it's a rainy day which calls for a "rainy day" post. I tried to be so diligent throughout my pregnancy about recording everything and writing often. But then the baby came and we all see how that went! Now that she's here and we are 'settled' into our routines and life, I will occasionally write a "rainy day" post that is either rewinding, fast-forwarding or just going off the track of my daily life. Today, my labor story!

I had a scheduled doctor's appointment with my OB on my birthday (the 5th anniversary of my 29th birthday), which happened to be the day before my due date. My numbers for my cholistasis (liver enzymes) had been improved so I wasn't going to "have to" be induced. I was going for my "regular" check-up, sonogram, and NST (non-stress test or fetal testing). I had not been having a great day because I wasn't feeling well. (Are you ever feeling well 9 months pregnant? Debatable.) I asked my mom to come to the dr with me so that I had some company and a distraction. My doctor's office is about 16 minutes from my house, door-to-door, and I had to stop at my sister's to use her bathroom on the way! I was extremely frustrated with the fact that I couldn't even drive 16 minutes somewhere without a hassle.

I went in for the sono first, as always, and Roe, the same tech I had every single time, was reminded that the gender was a surprise (I was always nervous, and partially convinced, that she slips up somehow every time and gives me a hint. The problem was I would leave one sono convinced it was a boy and the next, that it was my girl). During the sono, she took the measurements and then stopped and was writing on my chart. I said immediately, "is everything alright?!" It's scary when they stop talking and start really focusing on something - patients assume that something is wrong (right, don't all patients do that? Well, this one does). She assured me everything was just fine. Then, I went and did the NST  - perfect as always. And then (gulp) had the doctor do my internal. She then left the room to let me get dressed and said she'd be back to speak with me. I assumed this was because my due date was the next day and she just needed to give me more information.. WRONG.

Enter doctor. "So...because we haven't seen any growth in the baby since last week, I'm going to send you to the hospital to have you induced." I sit there and stare at her. I think my mother said "Ok. When?" Doctor: "Tonight." I then chose to speak. "No." And I started crying. Face-in-hands crying. She explained that she couldn't, in good conscience, ignore my "numbers" and that she didn't want to let the baby go another week if it was no longer growing, blah, blah, blah. I continued crying. I am sure I apologized at least half a dozen times but I said "I'm just not ready."

I know, I know. When would I be ready? It was five hours before my due date. And I thought I was ready. After peeing at my sister's, I likely mumbled, as I did about ten times a day, "When am I going to have this baby already??!!" But then when I was told I had to go in that night - now - I was not ready. The doctor tried to calm me down and reassure me. I actually told her no, I was not going. She said her compromise would be to have me come back to her office the next day, measure again and then go to the hospital if nothing had changed (she said nothing will have changed). I agreed because it delayed everything - put it all on pause - so that I could take it in, absorb it, understand it, come to terms with it.

My mom drove to Michele's (it was her birthday too remember and we were supposed to have cake with her kids and all of my siblings after my appointment) and I cried. She was trying to convince me to just go in that night - it was already about 7:30 pm, I could just get in and get started! I was emphatic - no, no, no. I needed to just go home. Sleep in my bed. Think. Not think. I didn't really know what I needed but I knew it wasn't an induction.

When I walked into Michele's, she said, "Well? Any developments?" I started crying. (It's the hormones people!) and my mother explained. Michele was incredulous. Remember, this is a girl that enjoys giving birth. "Why aren't you going right now?! You NEED to go tonight! Oh my God, I would be so excited!! Please, please, please go tonight!! It's perfect!" She then went to her master-calendar on the wall and started rambling off things like, "My in-laws can watch the boys all day tomorrow, Jay is off, if you go tonight, you'll have the baby tomorrow and come home on Saturday..." All of the reasons I should do it. I started doubting my decision. She told me if I went home, I would never sleep anyway. And then I would have to go to the doctor in the morning and then be at the hospital all day. It was already going on 8 p.m., I could sleep there, etc... Then, the nail in the coffin - she called her best friend whose mother is a labor and delivery nurse. She taught my birthing class and I really wanted her to be on duty when I went into labor so she could be my nurse. She knew me and knew that I was a nervous wreck. Her mother would be working at 6 a.m. the next day but then she was off for three days. If I went that night, she would likely be my nurse when I delivered. If I waited, there was zero chance of it. I caved. I mumbled, "Fine" and I swear someone pushed me out into my car before I could change my mind. Next thing I knew, I was running into my house to grab my packed bag and my mother was driving me to the hospital. I called my doctor to make sure it was okay and she said she would meet me there to give me Cervidil. If I could have jumped out of the moving car without killing myself and the baby, I would have.

At about 9:00 p.m. I was checked into the hospital and in a bed on the Labor and Delivery floor.I was not a very happy or calm person. I was beyond scared. The plan was to put the Cervidil in around 10 p.m. and leave it until 10 a.m. I would then be checked and given Pitocin if necessary (that was the one thing I prayed for all pregnancy long - please, Lord, don't make me need Pitocin). So, at 10 p.m., my nurse inserted the Cervidil ("inserted" sounds so much better than jammed in with what I swear were red-hot metal rods) and I was told to close my eyes and get some sleep. Yeh, ok.

To be continued....

Momeo and Juliette
XOXO

Our "Best" Day and a Crying Baby

Today is Sunday. Ahhh... it has become my favorite day for so many reasons. Mainly, the obvious ones. But now that I have Juliette to share it with, there are even more reasons. We had a "family fun" day at a winery today. Typically, Sunday is a day that I shop and cook and everyone comes over for dinner. In the summer, we do a lot of bbq/grill/outdoor eating. All winter, I pretty much pretend I am Italian (which I am not - I've traced my family back as far as possible searching for that "1% Italian" part - not there) and make everything and anything with "gravy" that I can. But today was kind of in between day: it's not yet fall but summer has clearly departed. So the winery it was and SUCH a good choice. The weather was perfect and so was the afternoon. 

Well, except for the "crying baby." I heard her long before I saw her. She was doing a desperate cry for a long period of time. Finally, I saw a dad carrying her like a football and walking her down the rows of grapes (I think this was to muffle her cries from everyone else at the vineyard). When he emerged with her fifteen minutes later - STILL CRYING - and still wearing a wool hat in about 75 degree weather - I went over and said hello. I learned the baby was 5 months old and her name was McKayla (a pretty name, but not Juliette). I said to the baby, "I bet you want your momma." Dad informed me that they had separated and today was "his day" with the baby. It was then that my heart broke. This baby was clearly unhappy and uncomfortable and she was literally looking around hoping to see momma any second and she wasn't even there. I asked to hold her and he handed her right over. She stopped crying for a few moments when I was talking to her but then I think she realized that even though I was acknowledging that she was a tiny human and NOT a football, I was still not "mom." I asked if he had a stroller for the baby to put her to sleep and his answer was, "No, she took everything from me." Grrrr. He thought I would feel badly for him, I suppose, but of course I did not in the least bit. Maybe this is clearly biased and judgmental but here were a few of my thoughts:

- Why, why, why are you taking a 5 month old child away from her mother for so long? He clearly was not there for only an hour or so.
- If you had your sister's engagement party at a winery, don't you think you'd rather the baby be with mom so you can attend the party and not walk halfway down a mile-long row of grapes to muffle your babies cries instead?
- If you HAD thought it was a good idea, why are you NOW realizing that it was NOT and calling mom to come get the baby?
 - And if mom "took everything" from you but you still want to have time with your baby, why don't YOU go get a stroller? or anything else the baby may need?

Grrr. (Did I already growl?) It sort of ruined my mood for the next hour or so. Now, granted, I don't know their story, but I pictured a new mom at home somewhere, worried sick, picturing her baby exactly the way she was in reality, but hoping against hope that she was really fine. Well she wasn't. And it was so unfair to that poor little baby. She was crying every single time I saw her for the next three hours or so. Heartbreaking. 

I try to be a fair, unbiased person. I truly try to see both sides of situations the best that I can; I believe that is how you learn. But I don't understand why a man cannot understand that a baby needs its mother. Period. Yes, the baby should be able to see dad and spend time with dad. Of course. But not at the baby's expense. I think that is so clear. So simple. So right. How is there another side? It upsets me greatly - I'm getting upset again now as I picture that little girl. So I need to move on.

MY little girl is now upstairs sleeping soundly in my bed (we co-sleep which I am sure I will talk about more in the future). She adored today because she adores being outdoors. Don't know where she came from - I hate nature. But as long as she is outside, she needs no entertainment - she will stare at trees, play with grass, look into the sky, all for hours at a time. She is precious (if I do say so myself). 

Tomorrow we have a doctor's appointment where she will get more shots. I hate it. Hate it. She's a tough cookie but she still cries and it kills me every time. Then (drum roll please....) I am meeting F for a drink to "talk about things." We have our next court date on the 25th and he suggested that we speak before then. I am hoping it is because he is willing to stop fighting with me over every little thing (15 minutes here, an hour there overnights, etc...) Hoping. But I am scared because I don't want my hopes up. So we shall see what happens. Until then, I am going to watch one show on my overloaded DVR, go snuggle with my baby girl, and get some serious work done tomorrow! Can I do it? I think I can, I think I can...

A happy Sunday to all,
Momeo and Juliette
XOXO

Go Home and Wait for Baby

Doctor’s Appointment Report: Everything looks “great.” Baby looks “perfect.” I was one of those patients asking, “Are you sure my fluids are still good enough?” and “The baby’s not getting too big?” Part of me is just looking for a reason to bring this baby out (but, at the same time, if they ever said yes, I would crap my pants and change my mind)! So – all good news. I am 50% effaced but (personal info warning) my cervix is still tilted too far back for her to tell if I am dilating. It remains a mystery… (By the way, it hurts like hell for the doctor to be able to realize she cannot reach my cervix!) And…just an observation: female doctors hurt more than male doctors. I have come to this conclusion based on more than one set of doctors. Why is that??

Anyway, all is good and they sent me home to wait for baby. My mom swears that during the ultrasound, the tech said, “come on, girl” under her breath at one point. If I would have heard that, I would have freaked out (in a good way). But I didn’t. I am hoping that was a slip. But…she messes with my head every single time. I always leave that little room thinking I know what it is because of something the tech said. Suppose I still need to wait…that’s the name of the game these days.

7 days to go!!!

New Year - I am back!

A new year – where has the time gone?! I could give all the excuses (the holidays, being way too pregnant, getting sick) but you all understand what happens – one day it’s December 18^th and the next, January 16^th. Sigh.

So the big news: I am still pregnant. 38 weeks and counting…and praying for labor pains and water breaking. I can’t believe I would ever say that – that I can’t wait for labor. But it’s time enough: I am done being pregnant, I want to meet this little mush and I can’t wait to be over the anxiety of delivery and just be able to enjoy my baby. I go to Dr. Erhart tonight and he will check me – I better have made some progress from last week (when he told me I was “thinning out.” I bet he says that to all the girls to make us feel better). But tonight I want dilation. I want effacement – I want something I can obsess about and hold on to for the next few days until my body kicks into action.

I took some “belly” photos – well, actually my younger cousin Brianna did – she does photography on the side and is hella good at it. My mom convinced me to do it, telling me I will regret it down the road if I don’t have any good pics of myself pregnant (she doesn’t have any). She sent me some sneak peeks and she really did do a nice job – anyone who can show a 9^th month pregnant woman a photo of herself that she thinks is “not terrible” is pretty talented. She’s bringing me the c.d. with them today and I am quite interested to see them all – hopefully baby appreciates them years from now. Because ain’t momma never doin this again!!

Every time I pee, I look down and part of me is hoping to see a hand sticking out or something. The waiting game is the worst – it could happen any given minute. Or I could still be pregnant almost 4 weeks from now (God, that hurt to even type….) I’ve been feeling okay physically, drained mentally. I get very easily frustrated and the not sleeping well adds to that. I don’t know how women voluntarily do this so many times – kudos to those of you who have.

I’m still working from home although it’s been slow which stresses me financially but other than that, it’s been quite lovely! My house is set, the nursery is set, my car is set…all I need is a contraction or two, an epidural, and a baby! So please, think PINK and think SOON. (Although if it’s a boy, I won. He will be Mason Daniel which I am very happy about. I just love the name.) I hope I am writing next from a hospital bed saying, “It wasn’t even that  bad…” (Ahh, a girl can dream….)

14 days to go!!! (Ahhhhh!!!)

Sneak Peek!

I’m still smiling from last night. I think the Baby Gods knew that I needed a peek at my baby yesterday. He/she (she) LOOKS like a REAL baby now! (I know, that probably sounds terrible, as if it hasn’t. But…it hasn’t!!! It looked like a lima bean, then a skeleton, then an alien. But now, he/she (she) looks like a BABY!!)

Speaking of babies….I’m a huge one when it comes to doctors. My entire life, I have passed out when I go to the doctor (dentist, pediatrician, physician, gynecologist, you name it). This pregnancy has toughened me up a bit, which I would have bet against seven months ago. But it’s amazing what you do when you have to do it. I’m still, however, not 100% “normal” about going. Even last night I was nervous – my stomach was in knots and I felt like I had to go to the bathroom (another physical reaction my body has to stress). I didn’t know how long the sonogram would be and what exactly the monitoring would be like and so I was stressed. My mom met me there which was good because she serves as a distraction while I wait. I despise waiting – it gives my mind time to completely freak out my body. I hate it. Anyway – the sonogram was awesome. I got to see Baby with its finger in its mouth, holding its foot in its mouth with its hand (!!intelligent, right??) and moving all around. We saw the hair on the back of the head already (quite the shock as I didn’t have hair until I was almost four! My mom taped bows onto my head!). It was great. The face has filled out and it looks like…my baby!!! Oh, and everything they checked for last night was perfect: my fluid levels, the umbilical cord, the blood flow, etc… Of course, that’s the most important stuff but the cutest and most exciting stuff was seeing the baby (and getting more pictures to take home)!

After the sonogram, they weighed me. Again. Ugh. I weighed 133 lbs which, I think, was the same as last time. Maybe I’m deluding myself. But either way, it’s a neat 25 lb weight gain since the pregnancy. If it doesn’t go up much more, I’ll be content with that. Blood pressure was great. Then, time for the monitoring. I sat on the exam table with two pillows propped up behind me. They found the baby’s heart (from the sonographer) and put a round monitoring piece on it and strapped it to me (with that gucky sonogram gel underneath it) to measure the baby’s heartbeat. Then they strapped another monitoring piece where the top of my uterus is to measure my contractions. Here’s the best part: the nurse then hands me this little buzzer and says, “Press this every time the baby moves.” I looked at her like she couldn’t be serious. “Every time?” “Yes, every time. I will be back in five minutes (LIE: a minimum of 15 minutes) to check on you.” My baby moves every second. Especially at night. I am not exaggerating. It’s a gymnast in there. It kicks and jabs and flips and tumbles and rolls. I was pushing that button every three seconds – and the machine would beep. I told my mom I am going to get one of those buzzers from the game Taboo and I’m going to do this at home. I’m going to press it and buzz every time the baby moves so no one else in my life can ignore it!! I certainly can’t! I finally told my mother that I was pressing it every other time because it was getting ridiculous. I had pressed it over 40 times in less than 5 minutes. Seriously. I guess other baby’s don’t move as much???

Turns out that everything there was perfect too – “perfect readout” the nurse practitioner told me. Good contractions (I knew that was what I was feeling!), good heartrate, and great movement (great for them, not for the inside of my uterus). My liver enzyme number went from a 12 to a 13. I said, “Shit! It went up!” but the NP said, “I consider 12 and 13 to be the same level with this. It’s just fine.” That made me feel better. I will continue to go for these weekly sonograms and NSTs and we will keep a close eye on Baby. I go for more blood work in three weeks to check on my number again (think LOW) and hopefully I can sneak by, week by week, until this baby comes naturally and I won’t need to be induced! Fingers and toes crossed!

I was smiling when I left, when I went to Michele and Jay’s to show them the pictures, when I got home and even now, today. I am getting really excited. So…I know I promised more updates about F, but no negativity or stress today. Only happy, real-baby-looking thoughts today. I’m going to be a mom soon!

48 days to go!!!

Overwhelmed

I will admit it. This momma-to-be is overwhelmed. It happens rarely (well, it may happen more frequently than I’d like but it typically doesn’t slow me down and I can ignore it and move past it. This time? Not so much). My head is swimming with finances, health insurance, issues with F, my health and the baby’s health, work and what I am going to do when I cannot put in the hours I am used to. Forget about the holidays and the fact that everyday tasks (laundry, dishes, shopping) are getting more and more physically difficult for me. The lack of sleep is probably not helping this equation. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not at my breaking point just yet. But I’m getting there (hence, the lapse in my entries for the past week).

Better news on the cholistasis front however. When I spoke with the doctor I primarily see, Dr. Erhart, he explained that my numbers are only slightly elevated and therefore not a huge concern right at the moment. We don’t have to schedule any induction dates or anything just yet. I went for new blood work and should get those results tomorrow night at my appointment. Fingers crossed for low numbers (thinking around a 10 would be great although I really have no idea what that number represents). He is very calming and for that I am grateful! I could use some calm in my life!

As Christmas approaches, my belly continues to grow, my heartburn continues to increase in intensity and my baby’s arrival gets closer!

50 days to go!!!

Decorated!!!

Decorated! Tree up! Christmas cookies baked (well at least two different kinds so far: spritz cookies and saltine cookies. More to come)! Not bad for a cranky pregnant lady – and I cooked Sunday dinner yesterday for the fam. My feet were swollen for the first time last night – I felt like a real-live pregnant person. Now that’s one classic symptom I hadn’t had yet (I feel like I have had everything else, classic or not).

I worked a lot over the weekend as well since last week was so slow. I need those hours up – this baby is expensive! Same for today – a boring, work day with nothing else planned. But that’s ok because I am working and looking at my Charlie Brown Christmas tree which Justin carried for me and Adam and Jared helped decorate. I also adore my Pinterest mason jars (yes, I actually made them). They are simple and beautiful (if I do say so myself).

No developments on the baby front other than my impending appointment with Dr. Erhart on Thursday morning. I’m anxious to ask him questions and see what he says about this cholistasis nonsense. Until then, I am absorbing all my baby kicks (of which there are a TON all day long) and counting down til I can meet this little angel. F and I are supposed to get together Thursday night after the doctor so that we can “discuss baby things.” He called and asked for the time after our last talk. No comment. (Until Friday morning. Then I’ll fill you in.)

Going on my BabyBump app all of the time now. I am in the January 2013 group and it’s scary and exciting to read posts from so many women who are due next month having their babies early, going into labor and delivery every day, and scheduling inductions and C-sections. It is really going to happen. Next month. I almost don’t believe it.

Back to work for me. With some spritz cookies to help ease the pain ;)

58 days to go!!! (possibly 37?!)

New Doctor and New Condition...At This Stage??

Okay – no decorating got started. But I have a good excuse. Last night, my actual sonogram went really well. It started with F calling me an hour beforehand and telling me that him and his mother were going to get there 25 minutes early “just in case” the doctor was running early. I had to shake my head – if I wasn’t going early, was he going to have them do an ultrasound on his womb? (Head shake). Anyway, Baby looks great! They estimate him/her (her) to be at 4 lbs 9 oz – that sounded big to me with 9 weeks to go! But my belly measures perfectly so no worries. Every little part of the baby looked great and we got to see him/her (her) yawning and blinking and moving. It’s so very cool every single time.

But then I went in to meet with the doctor. My doctor has two doctors within the practice. Up until this point, I have been dealing with Dr. Erhart but last night I met with the other doctor for the first time. She comes in, listens to Baby's heartbeat, measures my belly – all the typical stuff. Everything looks and sounds “perfect.” Sigh of relief. Then she says, “Has anyone talked to you about your liver enzymes?” I told her not recently – I had them checked in earlier blood work just as a precaution because I had complained about itchiness very early on in my pregnancy. She explained that they are elevated and (and all of this came very quickly and as a blob of mixed information to me) I have a condition called cholistasis which can cause fetal distress later in pregnancy so they “like to take the baby” the moment it reaches full term. As of now, “full term” has typically been considered 37 weeks although March of Dimes and others are pushing for it to be changed until 39 weeks because of all the development that happens between those two weeks. Anyway, in the meantime, she tells me I will be sent for more blood work and will begin getting an ultrasound and a fetal monitor every week from now until I deliver. Then she handed me paperwork and left. I was sort of in shock and then spent the next fifteen minutes scheduling all of these appointments with the receptionist. I left upset. The last thing I wanted with this pregnancy was an induction. (And yes, I know. We can’t plan everything. And we don’t always get what we want. But this was where my head was at the moment – like the spoiled girl in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory who demands the Golden Ticket. I would refuse to have an induction.)

By the time I got to Michele’s, I was really confused. I felt like I didn’t ask her any questions nor did I express my concerns about the baby or an induction. I just nodded and smiled like a polite patient and was left…confused. I hadn’t really understood if I did have this cholistasis or if they think I might. I don’t understand what causes it and what I really need to be concerned about. There was also the financial aspect too that was beginning to stress me – it sounds menial compared to the other concerns, but it’s just as real. I have a $130 deductible charge for every sonogram and I just scheduled up to 9 more! Michele told me not to stress about anything until I spoke with Dr. Erhart (easy for her to say, although she is probably correct). So this morning I called and made an appointment with him for next week. One of the reasons I adore him is because he is very laid back and very calming. I am hoping he hasn’t lost this magic touch with me. So…I wait. Of course, I Googled things I shouldn’t have. I read the horror stories and, intellectually at least, dismissed them. But I’d be lying if I told you I slept well last night. I will write down all of my questions for Thursday and will take my mom with me so I don’t leave and feel like I did last night, “Wait – what did she say about that?”

But today is a new day. And I am off to watch my nephews and niece (I still can’t believe I have a niece) so Michele and Jay can run to Justin’s parent-teacher conference.

63 days to go!!! (Or, oh dear God, 42 if I have to go at full term…gulp)