I am in full-blown post-pardum depression, with extra sauce on the side... I'm going to be talking with a counsellor as soon as I can get in touch with one (which most likely will be on Monday), so that I can get through this. The last thing we need is a psychotic moi wandering around; hard to get me to help with the dishes or the baby when I'm busy having a cry over nothing.
I seem to be able to hold up most of the week, but by Friday or Saturday, I am exhausted at trying to hold everything together - and I totally crack. Elizabeth being a fair amount more fussy than a lot of babies I've dealt with in the past does not help matters - not that it's her fault, it's just one of those extra straws that is packed onto an already overloaded camel.
Fred is doing everything that he can do, but I know that it's difficult on him. I don't do well with people leaking all over, and neither does he. I have been trying very hard to keep from crying all over the place, but it seems to hit overload about mid-weekend.
Wish me luck with the counselling...
~M
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Someone quick! Get me my walker!
Yes, it's official - I'm now 34 years old... and feeling every second of it at the moment - and then some. I'm sure that it has something to do with having a newborn 14 days prior to my birthday...
Fred and I are continuing to survive - barely - with Elizabeth's demands. She is learning that Mommy isn't going to pick her up every time she cries, and neither will Daddy. She's also learning, however, that she will get fed pretty well on time, and Mommy will not let her starve - no matter how much she thinks otherwise.
We're also working on getting her to see that sleeping during the day by herself is not going to kill her, and neither is not getting constant snuggles from Mommy - not that Mommy doesn't do the snuggles, anyway... I have to say, I do love new baby smell, and she has such soft downy hair that it's nigh irresistable to snuggle with her whenever she reaches out to me and demands it.
I'm beginning to get more relaxed into the role of Mama. It's been a difficult transition, since I started off with very little experience in that department and topped it off with knowing that we'd almost lost her at one point due to birth complications. I'm reminding myself daily that I don't *need* to rescue her each second she's not in my arms, that she's ok, and that she'll survive a few minutes more without me - as long as I'm nearby and can rescue her when she really does need it. For instance, currently, I am allowing her a good 6-minute cry on our bed while I update my blog. I have fed and changed her, and the sounds she's making means she's bored and wants me to entertain her. So, she's learning that Mommy isn't always going to entertain her whenever she wants...
She's still really gassy, but her pediatrician says she's doing fine, and is looking good. She gained another 3 oz from last Wednesday, so we're pretty well good to go with her weight gain after the loss of weight in the hospital.
Other than that, nothing more to report - I'm still needing to do taxes, and get a nursing bra... The two that I have are not going to cut it in the long run, and none of my other bras are going to cut it at all for nursing... Perhaps this weekend I can drag Fred out or leave Elizabeth with him and head out for a few hours on my own...
~M
Fred and I are continuing to survive - barely - with Elizabeth's demands. She is learning that Mommy isn't going to pick her up every time she cries, and neither will Daddy. She's also learning, however, that she will get fed pretty well on time, and Mommy will not let her starve - no matter how much she thinks otherwise.
We're also working on getting her to see that sleeping during the day by herself is not going to kill her, and neither is not getting constant snuggles from Mommy - not that Mommy doesn't do the snuggles, anyway... I have to say, I do love new baby smell, and she has such soft downy hair that it's nigh irresistable to snuggle with her whenever she reaches out to me and demands it.
I'm beginning to get more relaxed into the role of Mama. It's been a difficult transition, since I started off with very little experience in that department and topped it off with knowing that we'd almost lost her at one point due to birth complications. I'm reminding myself daily that I don't *need* to rescue her each second she's not in my arms, that she's ok, and that she'll survive a few minutes more without me - as long as I'm nearby and can rescue her when she really does need it. For instance, currently, I am allowing her a good 6-minute cry on our bed while I update my blog. I have fed and changed her, and the sounds she's making means she's bored and wants me to entertain her. So, she's learning that Mommy isn't always going to entertain her whenever she wants...
She's still really gassy, but her pediatrician says she's doing fine, and is looking good. She gained another 3 oz from last Wednesday, so we're pretty well good to go with her weight gain after the loss of weight in the hospital.
Other than that, nothing more to report - I'm still needing to do taxes, and get a nursing bra... The two that I have are not going to cut it in the long run, and none of my other bras are going to cut it at all for nursing... Perhaps this weekend I can drag Fred out or leave Elizabeth with him and head out for a few hours on my own...
~M
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
fast update...
I'm heading out today to show off the punchkin (daddy's nickname for her) to the work folk, and to the DMV (conveniently located next door to said work) to get my license renewed. Tomorrow being my birthday, I have today and tomorrow left to do it, and tomorrow we spend the day up on Pill Hill again for her appoinment and then mine.
And I have an attack of tummy ickies that may actually rival Elizabeth's today... Should make for a fun time for all... ugh.
~M
And I have an attack of tummy ickies that may actually rival Elizabeth's today... Should make for a fun time for all... ugh.
~M
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Catching up...
So, Happy Valentines Day to all. I finally have the time to update here just a bit. As I'm sure you all already know, I am now "officially" a Mommy - at least, if you read Fred's blog, you do.
Things started out so quietly on February 5th. I woke up, got dressed and ready for the non-stress test for the day, and looked at my overnight bag thinking "Well, I *could* take it, but most likely nothing is going to happen, and I will see Meg [my ob] today anyway, so we'll figure it will be either tomorrow or Thursday at the latest." and headed out the door with a mental list of what needed to be done after I got out of the hospital... Pick up pizza from Papa Murphy's, head home, do dishes, fold laundry, clean bedroom a bit...
I get hooked up to the monitors and within 10 minutes am asked by the nurse in Fetal Monitoring "Did you feel that contraction?"
"No. I mean, I feel something, but I figured they were latent contractions, just like normal - I've had them for the last 2-3 weeks. Why?"
"Well, we have what we call a latent dip in the baby's heart rate. So, you've just earned a spot in Labor & Delivery. I'll call someone to escort you over."
So, off I waddle to L & D, sure that this is yet another 4 hours of watching paint dry, where they will then call Meg and have her schedule me for tomorrow for an induction.
I get in, get changed into a fabulously fashionable hospital gown and get plopped into bed, where I'm strapped once again into the monitors and am told to get some oxygen. I call my doula and have her come up - she lives about an hour aaway, so I figured that calling her would be a good idea first, since most likely Fred could get there faster, even from across town.
I called Fred when they started having me sign paperwork and strapping admitting tags onto my wrist. Rather, I called Brad, Fred's boss, and calmly informed him that he needed to figure out a way to get Fred over to the hospital since it looked like they were admitting me and we were going to be having a baby sometime soon. Brad was more tongue-tied than I had expected, and had I not been slightly nervous, I would have found it more amusing at the time.
The doula showed up just in time to hear the doctors saying that they wanted to see about doing a contraction stress test on the baby to see if she would be able to handle a vag birth. The "latent dip" apparently is caused when baby's heart rate drops AFTER the contraction - which is not what they want to see. They want to see it increase just prior, and go back to normal afterwards. So, enter the dreaded Petosin IV drip.
Now, by now, I'm noticing that no one seems to be talking with anyone else, and no one, not even my doula, is mentioning ANYTHING about my birth plan at all. My brain is so out of whack at this point I can't seem to remember anything - which was why I had a doula in the first place - I wanted someone who could say "Uh, excuse me guys, but she has a birth plan, could we try and follow it for a bit, please?".
The Petosin drip goes for about an hour or so and we get a favorable response from the baby. By this time, Fred has arrived, after a quick detour to our house to get the overnight bag. The nurses turn the Petosin drip off, and one of the doctors decides to use a foley cath to dialate me further than the 1-1.5 cm's that I'm still at. My cervix is also still fairly high at this point, so they're hoping that with a foley, it will clue the cervix into dropping and dialating properly.
I am, however, not allowed to walk - or even sit up. They want to monitor the baby, they say, and they want to hook me back up to the Petosin... I don't want the Petosin, I want to walk, thank-you-very-much.
At this point, my room finally is available and I'm offered the chance to walk down to it. I grab it, and say Hell and Yes, I want to walk down. But first I need to use the bathroom. As I'm getting up, they look at me and say,
"Did they mention that the foley will fall out?"
"NO! What do you mean, it's going to fall out?!"
"Well, once you're dialated about 3-4 cm's, it will drop out on it's own. It's supposed to. It's ok."
Less alarmed, I nod, and head to the bathroom. I end up gently blowing my nose and the cath pops out unceremoniously... I think to myself that I hope I didn't do something horrible, and pull off the rest of the cath tube and place it in the sink, since nurses seem to like to check these sorts of things for measurements and all kinds of junk.
I let them know that yes, it came out, and I now have a bit of bloody show. I then head down to the L & D room they have for me (about twice as big as the one I had been in) and change into the gown I'd made for the birth - pretty much set up exactly the same as a hospital gown, just that it actually FITS, and it's made of a linen/poly blend that will launder quite well regardless - and it's soft.
They check to see how far I'm dialated, and sure enough, it's 4 cm's - but I'm still not effacing. SO, the doctor decides that we need to break the waters to get me fully effaced. I ask if I'm going to be able to walk after that, since I wanted to, and that was part of my birth plan, and she says "Yes, no problem, of COURSE you can walk."
They break the waters, which I must say, is one of the oddest sensations in the world... And then the doctor turns around and hooks me back up to Petosin - WHY, I don't know. She doesn't explain it to me, and again, my doula doesn't step up and say "Uh, she would like to walk for a bit - is that ok? You know, let gravity do it's job?". She just sits there, and rubs oil on my belly.
The contractions are coming along at this point about 1-2 every 2 minutes or so. They aren't overly steady and they don't want to stay a certain length. They also don't always allow for rest time in between. One of the problems with Petosin...
They're still monitoring me and I'm still asking about being allowed up and walking - or even standing - or even sitting on a birthing ball... ANYTHING. I'm told that I can't, because they need to monitor the baby while I'm hooked to the Petosin, and they don't want to remove the Petosin or the monitor at this point because the baby is now showing signs of a negative variable heart-rate. I'm thinking, "Well, sure - because if you were stuck in a small room that was contracting and stretching similar to that of the death-star trash compactor scene in Star Wars, you'd be having a negative variable heart-rate, too!".
Suddenly, the contractions change in intensity from fairly harsh but bearable to bone-shattering and pelvis-crushing pain. I knew at that point something was not going according to anybody's plan, least of all mine, and it was all I could do to not scream at them to just unhook me and leave me the fuq alone. The Petosin drip was up to 14 at that point, and there was no rest in between any of these. I finally broke down sobbing and asked for an epidural because I just couldn't handle the pain anymore - I hadn't been listened to for a good 4-5 hours so I was surprised when they came in and almost immediately got one for me.
Fred, at this point, was livid. Not only was his wife in pain, but the doctors (there were 4 of them wending in an out) refused to listen to either her or each other - all of them had a different idea of what needed to happen, and they all felt it necessary to tell me in the midst of a contraction - or ask me a question. On top of that, he was trying to hold my hand and be there for me, and the doula was effectively physically blocking his access to me at all - I was completely unaware at that point of anything other than hands and the pain, so I was no help whatsoever. I know I was being asked to make decisions, but I can't remember what was asked or what decision I made - even now.
All of a sudden, about 8-10 minutes after the epidural was put in, I was surrounded by 8 people, and my bed started moving. Fred apparently was told by all 4 of the doctors AND the doula, consecutively, that they were needing to go in for an emergency c-section. No one would be allowed in other than the doctors and nurses, so both doula and Fred were relegated to just outside the doors to wait for an outcome. It was around 12:40 in the morning at this point.
All I remember is that I couldn't breathe, and felt totally lethargic everywhere. I remember getting onto the operating table, and then having a small mask placed over my face. I can remember being sort of panicked, but then being completely calm almost immediately afterwards, and then I don't remember anything until 2:30 when I woke up again. Fred was there, and I could see a squirmy, wiggleworm being held by the L & D nurse across the room. Fred headed over, got the wiggling mass, and brought it over to me, and there was my Elizabeth.
I have to say, it was a rather emotional, yet anti-climactic time for me. I had so hoped for a vag birth, but instead I missed everything - I didn't even get to be awake for the c-section. It was when the nurse came over with the umbilical cord that I truly understood what had gone on. Apparently, during her 9 month stay within me, she'd managed to tie the cord into a knot, either at the placental side or the belly side (we aren't sure which - they didn't specify). Combined with the cord wrapped around her neck twice, she simply couldn't get oxygen while the contractions were forcing her down the birth canal - it was impossible because the knot would contract and shut down the flow. Even had they not given me the Petosin and allowed me to walk, I still would have had to have a c-section.
At 3am, I was awake enough to hold her, and we tried breast-feeding for the first time. She latched on like a pro, and I barely had to do anything other than just sit there and enjoy her presence.
I stayed in the hospital for 4 days, being poked, prodded, and generally annoyed by the nurses. Elizabeth was also poked, prodded and generally annoyed by the nurses, and showed almost immediately that she has my lungs and Daddy's temper.
Mom made it down to help out from Thursday morning through yesterday. She helped put the house in order for my return, then helped me get settled in and sorted into the feeding/changing/napping mode that it looks like we'll be having for a while.
I am off for a total of 6 weeks, unless something happens and I need more time off. Currently, I have an infection in my incision that the doctors are looking at carefully. Tomorrow I go in to have them look again. I got onto antibiotics, but the wound is still oozy and warm to the touch in comparison to other areas, so I have a horrible feeling I'm going to be re-opened to a certain degree to get everything out, and then we will start the ostomy care (basically packing and prodding it until it heals properly). The good news is that if I get my tummy tuck, the scar may mostly go away anyway... besides, I don't wear a two-piece, so I'm not too worried about it.
Elizabeth lost 8-9 oz in the hospital (typical), and is now gaining it back in lightning speed. Her pediatrician met her for the first time yesterday and remarked how good she looked. No jaundice, no real issues, weight is up, and she's looking good. In a temper, but looking good.
She eats every 1-2 hours right now during the day, and at night every 3-4 hours, depending on how hungry she is. On top of that, I'm expressing, in order to have enough on hand just in case. She has decided that the formula that we had been supplimenting her with in the hospital (she drained me of colostrum within the first 32 hrs) is not what she wants. Makes her extremely gassy and fussy anyway. So, we're breast-feeding only, which is fine.
She really does honestly smile, and giggles and smirks at things occasionally in her sleep. Her tear ducts are also fully functional, as we have found when she gets into a full-blown mad. She cries her little eyes out, tears pouring everywhere. She loves to snuggle my breasts, and will, if allowed, sleep on them and pet them with a hand, a little half-smile on her face.
Fred presented me with a dozen rozes and some little mini tiger-lilies for Valentine's Day... as well as to commemorate Elizabeth's birth. I'd told him that I didn't want diamonds or jewelry or anything like that to celebrate her birth - just a rose. That's all. He's just the sweetest man in the whole world. :-)
Fred is taking to being a newborn's daddy like a duck to water. He is fabulous with her, even at 2am when she's on a mad that's so high-gear that she stiffens her little body up and lets loose a scream that would have Billy Idol hang it all up and try for mime. We're both doing fairly well with everything, considering neither of us have a ton of experience (though I have less than Fred does).
My back is still killing me, but I think it's just going to be a matter of time until everything settles in. Meanwhile, Ibuprofin and acetamenaphin will be my friends - as will stretching.
Off to feed the baby again! it's now noon...
~M
Things started out so quietly on February 5th. I woke up, got dressed and ready for the non-stress test for the day, and looked at my overnight bag thinking "Well, I *could* take it, but most likely nothing is going to happen, and I will see Meg [my ob] today anyway, so we'll figure it will be either tomorrow or Thursday at the latest." and headed out the door with a mental list of what needed to be done after I got out of the hospital... Pick up pizza from Papa Murphy's, head home, do dishes, fold laundry, clean bedroom a bit...
I get hooked up to the monitors and within 10 minutes am asked by the nurse in Fetal Monitoring "Did you feel that contraction?"
"No. I mean, I feel something, but I figured they were latent contractions, just like normal - I've had them for the last 2-3 weeks. Why?"
"Well, we have what we call a latent dip in the baby's heart rate. So, you've just earned a spot in Labor & Delivery. I'll call someone to escort you over."
So, off I waddle to L & D, sure that this is yet another 4 hours of watching paint dry, where they will then call Meg and have her schedule me for tomorrow for an induction.
I get in, get changed into a fabulously fashionable hospital gown and get plopped into bed, where I'm strapped once again into the monitors and am told to get some oxygen. I call my doula and have her come up - she lives about an hour aaway, so I figured that calling her would be a good idea first, since most likely Fred could get there faster, even from across town.
I called Fred when they started having me sign paperwork and strapping admitting tags onto my wrist. Rather, I called Brad, Fred's boss, and calmly informed him that he needed to figure out a way to get Fred over to the hospital since it looked like they were admitting me and we were going to be having a baby sometime soon. Brad was more tongue-tied than I had expected, and had I not been slightly nervous, I would have found it more amusing at the time.
The doula showed up just in time to hear the doctors saying that they wanted to see about doing a contraction stress test on the baby to see if she would be able to handle a vag birth. The "latent dip" apparently is caused when baby's heart rate drops AFTER the contraction - which is not what they want to see. They want to see it increase just prior, and go back to normal afterwards. So, enter the dreaded Petosin IV drip.
Now, by now, I'm noticing that no one seems to be talking with anyone else, and no one, not even my doula, is mentioning ANYTHING about my birth plan at all. My brain is so out of whack at this point I can't seem to remember anything - which was why I had a doula in the first place - I wanted someone who could say "Uh, excuse me guys, but she has a birth plan, could we try and follow it for a bit, please?".
The Petosin drip goes for about an hour or so and we get a favorable response from the baby. By this time, Fred has arrived, after a quick detour to our house to get the overnight bag. The nurses turn the Petosin drip off, and one of the doctors decides to use a foley cath to dialate me further than the 1-1.5 cm's that I'm still at. My cervix is also still fairly high at this point, so they're hoping that with a foley, it will clue the cervix into dropping and dialating properly.
I am, however, not allowed to walk - or even sit up. They want to monitor the baby, they say, and they want to hook me back up to the Petosin... I don't want the Petosin, I want to walk, thank-you-very-much.
At this point, my room finally is available and I'm offered the chance to walk down to it. I grab it, and say Hell and Yes, I want to walk down. But first I need to use the bathroom. As I'm getting up, they look at me and say,
"Did they mention that the foley will fall out?"
"NO! What do you mean, it's going to fall out?!"
"Well, once you're dialated about 3-4 cm's, it will drop out on it's own. It's supposed to. It's ok."
Less alarmed, I nod, and head to the bathroom. I end up gently blowing my nose and the cath pops out unceremoniously... I think to myself that I hope I didn't do something horrible, and pull off the rest of the cath tube and place it in the sink, since nurses seem to like to check these sorts of things for measurements and all kinds of junk.
I let them know that yes, it came out, and I now have a bit of bloody show. I then head down to the L & D room they have for me (about twice as big as the one I had been in) and change into the gown I'd made for the birth - pretty much set up exactly the same as a hospital gown, just that it actually FITS, and it's made of a linen/poly blend that will launder quite well regardless - and it's soft.
They check to see how far I'm dialated, and sure enough, it's 4 cm's - but I'm still not effacing. SO, the doctor decides that we need to break the waters to get me fully effaced. I ask if I'm going to be able to walk after that, since I wanted to, and that was part of my birth plan, and she says "Yes, no problem, of COURSE you can walk."
They break the waters, which I must say, is one of the oddest sensations in the world... And then the doctor turns around and hooks me back up to Petosin - WHY, I don't know. She doesn't explain it to me, and again, my doula doesn't step up and say "Uh, she would like to walk for a bit - is that ok? You know, let gravity do it's job?". She just sits there, and rubs oil on my belly.
The contractions are coming along at this point about 1-2 every 2 minutes or so. They aren't overly steady and they don't want to stay a certain length. They also don't always allow for rest time in between. One of the problems with Petosin...
They're still monitoring me and I'm still asking about being allowed up and walking - or even standing - or even sitting on a birthing ball... ANYTHING. I'm told that I can't, because they need to monitor the baby while I'm hooked to the Petosin, and they don't want to remove the Petosin or the monitor at this point because the baby is now showing signs of a negative variable heart-rate. I'm thinking, "Well, sure - because if you were stuck in a small room that was contracting and stretching similar to that of the death-star trash compactor scene in Star Wars, you'd be having a negative variable heart-rate, too!".
Suddenly, the contractions change in intensity from fairly harsh but bearable to bone-shattering and pelvis-crushing pain. I knew at that point something was not going according to anybody's plan, least of all mine, and it was all I could do to not scream at them to just unhook me and leave me the fuq alone. The Petosin drip was up to 14 at that point, and there was no rest in between any of these. I finally broke down sobbing and asked for an epidural because I just couldn't handle the pain anymore - I hadn't been listened to for a good 4-5 hours so I was surprised when they came in and almost immediately got one for me.
Fred, at this point, was livid. Not only was his wife in pain, but the doctors (there were 4 of them wending in an out) refused to listen to either her or each other - all of them had a different idea of what needed to happen, and they all felt it necessary to tell me in the midst of a contraction - or ask me a question. On top of that, he was trying to hold my hand and be there for me, and the doula was effectively physically blocking his access to me at all - I was completely unaware at that point of anything other than hands and the pain, so I was no help whatsoever. I know I was being asked to make decisions, but I can't remember what was asked or what decision I made - even now.
All of a sudden, about 8-10 minutes after the epidural was put in, I was surrounded by 8 people, and my bed started moving. Fred apparently was told by all 4 of the doctors AND the doula, consecutively, that they were needing to go in for an emergency c-section. No one would be allowed in other than the doctors and nurses, so both doula and Fred were relegated to just outside the doors to wait for an outcome. It was around 12:40 in the morning at this point.
All I remember is that I couldn't breathe, and felt totally lethargic everywhere. I remember getting onto the operating table, and then having a small mask placed over my face. I can remember being sort of panicked, but then being completely calm almost immediately afterwards, and then I don't remember anything until 2:30 when I woke up again. Fred was there, and I could see a squirmy, wiggleworm being held by the L & D nurse across the room. Fred headed over, got the wiggling mass, and brought it over to me, and there was my Elizabeth.
I have to say, it was a rather emotional, yet anti-climactic time for me. I had so hoped for a vag birth, but instead I missed everything - I didn't even get to be awake for the c-section. It was when the nurse came over with the umbilical cord that I truly understood what had gone on. Apparently, during her 9 month stay within me, she'd managed to tie the cord into a knot, either at the placental side or the belly side (we aren't sure which - they didn't specify). Combined with the cord wrapped around her neck twice, she simply couldn't get oxygen while the contractions were forcing her down the birth canal - it was impossible because the knot would contract and shut down the flow. Even had they not given me the Petosin and allowed me to walk, I still would have had to have a c-section.
At 3am, I was awake enough to hold her, and we tried breast-feeding for the first time. She latched on like a pro, and I barely had to do anything other than just sit there and enjoy her presence.
I stayed in the hospital for 4 days, being poked, prodded, and generally annoyed by the nurses. Elizabeth was also poked, prodded and generally annoyed by the nurses, and showed almost immediately that she has my lungs and Daddy's temper.
Mom made it down to help out from Thursday morning through yesterday. She helped put the house in order for my return, then helped me get settled in and sorted into the feeding/changing/napping mode that it looks like we'll be having for a while.
I am off for a total of 6 weeks, unless something happens and I need more time off. Currently, I have an infection in my incision that the doctors are looking at carefully. Tomorrow I go in to have them look again. I got onto antibiotics, but the wound is still oozy and warm to the touch in comparison to other areas, so I have a horrible feeling I'm going to be re-opened to a certain degree to get everything out, and then we will start the ostomy care (basically packing and prodding it until it heals properly). The good news is that if I get my tummy tuck, the scar may mostly go away anyway... besides, I don't wear a two-piece, so I'm not too worried about it.
Elizabeth lost 8-9 oz in the hospital (typical), and is now gaining it back in lightning speed. Her pediatrician met her for the first time yesterday and remarked how good she looked. No jaundice, no real issues, weight is up, and she's looking good. In a temper, but looking good.
She eats every 1-2 hours right now during the day, and at night every 3-4 hours, depending on how hungry she is. On top of that, I'm expressing, in order to have enough on hand just in case. She has decided that the formula that we had been supplimenting her with in the hospital (she drained me of colostrum within the first 32 hrs) is not what she wants. Makes her extremely gassy and fussy anyway. So, we're breast-feeding only, which is fine.
She really does honestly smile, and giggles and smirks at things occasionally in her sleep. Her tear ducts are also fully functional, as we have found when she gets into a full-blown mad. She cries her little eyes out, tears pouring everywhere. She loves to snuggle my breasts, and will, if allowed, sleep on them and pet them with a hand, a little half-smile on her face.
Fred presented me with a dozen rozes and some little mini tiger-lilies for Valentine's Day... as well as to commemorate Elizabeth's birth. I'd told him that I didn't want diamonds or jewelry or anything like that to celebrate her birth - just a rose. That's all. He's just the sweetest man in the whole world. :-)
Fred is taking to being a newborn's daddy like a duck to water. He is fabulous with her, even at 2am when she's on a mad that's so high-gear that she stiffens her little body up and lets loose a scream that would have Billy Idol hang it all up and try for mime. We're both doing fairly well with everything, considering neither of us have a ton of experience (though I have less than Fred does).
My back is still killing me, but I think it's just going to be a matter of time until everything settles in. Meanwhile, Ibuprofin and acetamenaphin will be my friends - as will stretching.
Off to feed the baby again! it's now noon...
~M
Saturday, February 02, 2008
Waiting, and hoping, and praying....
Had another non-stress-test (NST) on Friday, and this time Elizabeth acted just as I thought she would - we chased her around my belly for a good 7-10 minutes before we caught her, and then she proceeded to try and bounce the monitors off of me one by one, by way of kicking them violently.
Both the ultrasound and the monitoring showed a healthy, comfy baby, so there's no real cause for stress, other than the fact that she hasn't decided to come out yet.
There was some stress on Thursday, however. Tuesday's monitoring and ultrasound were delivered to my OB, Meg, by hand BY ME, and there was no indication that there was anything even remotely wrong at all. Meg told me not to worry, that if I didn't have the baby by Tuesday, we'd meet, and set up everything for induction either Wednesday or Thursday - no issues, no fuss, no muss.
So, when my phone rings on Thursday, I figure it's just a call to remind me of my NST. Instead, I get the following:
"Hi! This is Julie with Dr B's office (the Dr I saw while Meg was out of town - ONCE). She just wanted me to let you know that she'd reviewed your ultrasound from Tuesday, and we wanted to make sure you knew you had an abnormally large baby for her gestational age - but then, you can probably feel that, can't you..."
"Uhhh," I answer intelligently, confused, "Yeah - well, I talked with Meg about the ultrasound on Tuesday, and she said everything was fine."
"Oh. Well, Dr B just felt you needed to know about the size. Have a great day!"
click.
Now, first off, why is another Dr reviewing my ultrasound/charts and not consulting with my assigned Dr PRIOR to actually having someone call me? And why was it that Meg felt there was no issue, while Dr B felt that there was? Was something wrong? Did the information not get entered correctly? Did I not understand something? Am I going to have to have a c-section? What the hell is going on?
So, I call the clinic back and ask that Meg's nurse call me with an explaination. 3 hours later, no call back, so I call again. This time I *DO* get a call back, and the nurse is someone I haven't talked to before (Kiki is the person I normally see with Meg, I have no idea who this gal is, other than her name is Nicole). I explain what happened with the phone call, and Nicole's response is:
"Oh, well sometimes mistakes happen. I wouldn't worry about it."
"No, I *am* worried about it. I'm a week past due at this point, and I want to know why another Dr would A. be reviewing my records when *my* OB is in, and why they would then proceed to inform me something that is completely opposite of what my OB told me less than two days ago."
"Well, it's possible that Dr B got your ultrasound by mistake and reviewed it instead of Meg..."
"Now, why would that happen, when it was ME who hand-delivered the ultrasound results to Meg on Tuesday?"
"Uh... well, as I said, sometimes mistakes just happen. Obviously the call to you was a mistake - I would simply ignore it."
"I don't think so. You now have a fairly hysterical pregnant woman on the phone, past due with her first baby. I want to find out from Meg what's going on. She told me on Tuesday that there was nothing to worry about, and if I hadn't had the baby by next Tuesday, we would induce. Now, I'm being told that I have an abnormally large baby, and I don't know what that means." (tears of frustration and stress are now running down my face as I'm trying to keep from screaming at her at the top of my lungs)
"Well... I suppose I could talk with Meg and find out if the plans have changed, and if they have, then I can call you back... But I honestly don't feel that this is something necessary."
"Well, let's have Meg decide what's necessary and what isn't, shall we? So, you go ahead and talk with Meg and call me if there are any changes to the last plans we'd set up."
"Fine. I'll talk with Meg, and I'll call you if anything has changed."
No one has called, so I can only assume one of two things has happened - either there were no changes to the plans, or the nurse blew me off, hoping I simply wouldn't call back. Either way, it was a crap-tastic day on Thursday.
Mum sent down some moolah to help with the baby. I've been approved for FMLA, but I am not sure how that's going to work, other than I won't be dinged for time off. So, we have rent and food and some of the bills covered, at the least. Mum herself may not be able to make it down until March, since there is NEW drama in my sister's life, causing Mum to have to be there to take care of the 3-yr-old while Mel heads over to Ellensburg for retraining. Don't ask - that's another entry all inof itself, and I just don't feel the energy...
All in all, it's been pretty uneventful. I'm in pain when I walk at this point - all my pelvis wants is a different body - as does my lower back. My knee has now decided to join the fun, which makes it really fun to walk anywhere. We went shopping today, and I almost lost it a few times on people who simply couldn't care less about where they were going, what they were doing, or whether they were blocking the entire aisle or not. I hate going shopping.
Found out I got everything I needed, but now I need a separate freezer to keep everything in. *chuckle* Had to jerry-rig a few things to keep everything in the freezer without the door popping open.
Tonight is gaming, with dinner being served at 7pm. Sloppy joes. MMMMmmmm.
~M
Both the ultrasound and the monitoring showed a healthy, comfy baby, so there's no real cause for stress, other than the fact that she hasn't decided to come out yet.
There was some stress on Thursday, however. Tuesday's monitoring and ultrasound were delivered to my OB, Meg, by hand BY ME, and there was no indication that there was anything even remotely wrong at all. Meg told me not to worry, that if I didn't have the baby by Tuesday, we'd meet, and set up everything for induction either Wednesday or Thursday - no issues, no fuss, no muss.
So, when my phone rings on Thursday, I figure it's just a call to remind me of my NST. Instead, I get the following:
"Hi! This is Julie with Dr B's office (the Dr I saw while Meg was out of town - ONCE). She just wanted me to let you know that she'd reviewed your ultrasound from Tuesday, and we wanted to make sure you knew you had an abnormally large baby for her gestational age - but then, you can probably feel that, can't you..."
"Uhhh," I answer intelligently, confused, "Yeah - well, I talked with Meg about the ultrasound on Tuesday, and she said everything was fine."
"Oh. Well, Dr B just felt you needed to know about the size. Have a great day!"
click.
Now, first off, why is another Dr reviewing my ultrasound/charts and not consulting with my assigned Dr PRIOR to actually having someone call me? And why was it that Meg felt there was no issue, while Dr B felt that there was? Was something wrong? Did the information not get entered correctly? Did I not understand something? Am I going to have to have a c-section? What the hell is going on?
So, I call the clinic back and ask that Meg's nurse call me with an explaination. 3 hours later, no call back, so I call again. This time I *DO* get a call back, and the nurse is someone I haven't talked to before (Kiki is the person I normally see with Meg, I have no idea who this gal is, other than her name is Nicole). I explain what happened with the phone call, and Nicole's response is:
"Oh, well sometimes mistakes happen. I wouldn't worry about it."
"No, I *am* worried about it. I'm a week past due at this point, and I want to know why another Dr would A. be reviewing my records when *my* OB is in, and why they would then proceed to inform me something that is completely opposite of what my OB told me less than two days ago."
"Well, it's possible that Dr B got your ultrasound by mistake and reviewed it instead of Meg..."
"Now, why would that happen, when it was ME who hand-delivered the ultrasound results to Meg on Tuesday?"
"Uh... well, as I said, sometimes mistakes just happen. Obviously the call to you was a mistake - I would simply ignore it."
"I don't think so. You now have a fairly hysterical pregnant woman on the phone, past due with her first baby. I want to find out from Meg what's going on. She told me on Tuesday that there was nothing to worry about, and if I hadn't had the baby by next Tuesday, we would induce. Now, I'm being told that I have an abnormally large baby, and I don't know what that means." (tears of frustration and stress are now running down my face as I'm trying to keep from screaming at her at the top of my lungs)
"Well... I suppose I could talk with Meg and find out if the plans have changed, and if they have, then I can call you back... But I honestly don't feel that this is something necessary."
"Well, let's have Meg decide what's necessary and what isn't, shall we? So, you go ahead and talk with Meg and call me if there are any changes to the last plans we'd set up."
"Fine. I'll talk with Meg, and I'll call you if anything has changed."
No one has called, so I can only assume one of two things has happened - either there were no changes to the plans, or the nurse blew me off, hoping I simply wouldn't call back. Either way, it was a crap-tastic day on Thursday.
Mum sent down some moolah to help with the baby. I've been approved for FMLA, but I am not sure how that's going to work, other than I won't be dinged for time off. So, we have rent and food and some of the bills covered, at the least. Mum herself may not be able to make it down until March, since there is NEW drama in my sister's life, causing Mum to have to be there to take care of the 3-yr-old while Mel heads over to Ellensburg for retraining. Don't ask - that's another entry all inof itself, and I just don't feel the energy...
All in all, it's been pretty uneventful. I'm in pain when I walk at this point - all my pelvis wants is a different body - as does my lower back. My knee has now decided to join the fun, which makes it really fun to walk anywhere. We went shopping today, and I almost lost it a few times on people who simply couldn't care less about where they were going, what they were doing, or whether they were blocking the entire aisle or not. I hate going shopping.
Found out I got everything I needed, but now I need a separate freezer to keep everything in. *chuckle* Had to jerry-rig a few things to keep everything in the freezer without the door popping open.
Tonight is gaming, with dinner being served at 7pm. Sloppy joes. MMMMmmmm.
~M
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