Admitting defeat...

I finally broke down yesterday and got signed up for counselling. I have been fighting with the post-partum for a while now, and I just can't seem to get through it on my own. I know now that I cannot do this without help and, while I *HATE* asking for help, I must do so in order to be healthy for everyone.

The scariest part was admitting to Fred that I was needing it, and why. I would never, ever hurt Elizabeth - not even on my worst days. If things get out of control and frustrating, I simply put her safely into her crib and give myself a 10-minute time out, then try again. Hurting myself, on the other hand, is getting to be a more and more acceptable idea - and that's not good for anyone.

So, I have a phone counselling session today, and I am making appointments for regular visits with a counsellor starting as soon as possible... We shall see. I hope, for everyone's sake, that this works. I don't want to be thrown into the looney bin, or lose Elizabeth. However, I know that I can't do this on my own anymore - and while Fred is great, I need to talk with someone outside the picture this time...

Wish me luck...

~M

Update of sorts...

Well, it's looking like the babysitter crisis has been resolved. We found a nice young gal, recently re-located from Tulsa, OK, whom Elizabeth seems to like a lot, and we both like quite a bit, too. I'm breathing a light sigh of relief, and am lots less stressed.

I've been suffering from stress migraines again. Not happy about it, but am dealing with it. Went to see my primary care dr, and he prescribed some meds to take care of flare-ups. Hopefully won't have to take them too often... So far, have only had to take one, and the rest of them have been managed with Excedrin and meditation, which is good.

Elizabeth is growing like a weed. She's now over 13 lbs, and over 24" long!

Chuck Norris' Total Gym has nothing on my kid! I have incrementally increasing weight loads, difficulty ratings are increased or decreased based on wiggliness, and it even comes with it's own cheering section (she screams at me if I'm not moving fast enough - LOL). Why have a home gym?

Mom came down this last weekend to visit, and bring a christening gown with her that's been in our family for over 100 years. I will be scanning in a few pics and putting them up when we have time. Elizabeth looked absolutely beautiful in it, and decided almost immediately that she needed to eat it.

We are currently starting to get ready for the tourney season, and have found that we need a few more things prior to actually heading out - another lamp or two, and another two heaters, one for Elizabeth's room, and one for the main room of the tent. Also, at least 2 if not 3 chairs to sit in, and I wouldn't mind a table... Looking at Ebay for stuff, and will also be heading to local Goodwills and the like to (hopefully) find stuff...

~M

Hellish week already...

And it's not even the end of the first day yet...

First off, we had to track down the babysitter again yesterday to make sure she was going to be there today... And found out that she was sick and couldn't make it - again. Tried to get in touch with Angst, my god-daughter, who helped us out last week, and found out she was sick, too.

Thankfully, found out that the babysitter's mom was willing to take the Lizard for the day, which was helpful. Thankfully she picked her up by 8:15, and got me to a closer bus stop so I could make it to work on time.

Get to work, and every psycho in the local city area decides to get on my phone and call me, and I find out that the position that I've applied for here in the call center is not going to be filled anytime soon - apparently they have the idea that they can fill it with others for a while...

I decide to open my yahoo mail, and find out that the babysitter had emailed me yesterday at 4pm, and let me know that she had gotten an email from her vocational rehab counselor and was told she needed to sign up with a temp agency as soon as she was well, and that basically I'd better find someone else because she wouldn't be able to do it anymore.

I haven't heard back from Angst yet, but am not hopeful that she will be able and/or willing to help us. I also don't know what else to do at this point besides completely panic and fall down in a heap of tears. I have a possible option, but it's most likely a short-term fix, if it goes through at all.

On top of that, DHS is not going to be assisting us at all - we gross too much money. Which reminds me, I need to have Fred head to the courthouse and fill out paperwork to reduce his child support payment so that hopefully we can afford someone...

I think I've reached the end of my rope with stress, though...

~M

It's been a week...

The work scene has been pretty steadily filled with the flotsom that comes through my phone on a regular basis: namely people who don't know why they've made an appointment, don't know who they made the appointment with, and can't remember the date and/or the time of said appointment - and they want me to find all of this out for them. It's sad, honestly, to know that there are that many wasted pieces of carbon out there.

Had another face-to-face interview on Wednesday. I think it went pretty well, but I didn't get a vibe either one way or another about whether I'd get the job. We'll see. If I do, I'm jumping on it. It's totally different from what I'm doing, and something that I know I'd be good at, given the chance. If I don't get it, well... I've applied for the lead position. I know, I'm nuts - BUT, it would mean less child care, a little more money, and a little less time on the phones, which would be nice. I might actually make a small smidgeon of a difference...

Elizabeth continues to go through short growth spurts. She hits one about every other week at this point, and has grown a good 1.5", and about 7-10 oz, making her well over 10 lbs at this point. She has a dr's appointment on the 7th for her 2 month check-up, so we'll get "official" stats at that point. She had her first bath in the bathtub last night, instead of in her little tub-lette. I decided I needed to take a bath, and by the time I realized it was fairly late, the water was a perfect temperature. So, had Fred bring her in, undress her, and plop her into the water with me. She wasn't sure what to think of it - she couldn't touch the sides, and couldn't figure out how her little tub-lette had gotten so large, and how I'd managed to get into it with her. *chuckle* She liked the water, though, and liked the fact that I was there, in the water, the whole time with her, holding her. I think she's going to do just fine in pools.

As for myself, I've been getting headaches pretty much every day this week. I don't know what it is that I'm either doing, or not doing, but I get them on the right side of my head, right behind my eyeball. I'm thinking it's my glasses. I've needed a new pair for a good 2 years, so I'm going to call Monday and see about making an appointment to get my eyes checked and get new glasses. My plan is eventually to get lasik surgery, since I get a discount for working at the hospital. I have to say, some of the perks are great.

Fred got his driver's permit today. Raistlin is going to take him out driving either this weekend or next... I'm actually rather excited about the prospect of Fred driving. It'll be nice to occasionally have him take the wheel, once he gets confident enough to drive with others in the car. I'm not expecting it take very long for him to get to that point.

Fred took Jazzy back to the Humane Society today, as I had to work. They offered us a credit toward another animal if we choose one within the next 90 days. I said we'd see, and perhaps later next month we will go back and take a look. They said if Jazzy is adopted again and is returned for the same issues again, they may deem her un-adoptable, which would mean they put her down. I can only hope that the letter I wrote about her, and what I feel would be a good fit for her, will help her find a good place to be. She has so much love to give, and if I was alone, I'd be a good match for her, I have no doubt.

Other than that, not much is going on... I'm exhausted, so I think I'm going to head to bed.

~M

One Ringy-Dingy...

One of my all-time favorite skits ended up being this one. The most amusing part is that I now *am* a switchboard operator.

Enjoy...

~M

general meanderings...

So, Elizabeth is still having colic - big surprise, there. It's possible she has what is called generally as "sluggish colon", which would explain the gas, fussiness, and her general attitude toward being held (wanna, wanna, wanna be comforted all the time, mama! Make it feel better!!).

I've gotten something called "Colic Calm", which is supposed to help all of these things. I ordered it for a few reasons, not the least of which is the alternate suggestions on the site on how to deal with intestinal gas issues without taking their product. I like that. No touting that this is the "only" thing that will work for the baby, etc. So, yeah, it's a little expensive, but also has a money-back guarantee, so there's that, too.

She was so tired last night she slept for 5 hours, waking up finally at around 2:45 for a feeding. I was awake, vaguely, at midnight to turn the swing back on, but she was sleeping soundly and didn't start fussing until 2:40. She was a sloppy noodle girl at that point, not wanting to wake up, but wanting to be changed and fed. So, changed her, then fed her. She fell asleep after one boob and giving a great triple burp, then woke up about an hour later for the other one.

We woke up around an hour ago, and changed and fed again, this time refusing to burp at all... She fell asleep for about 30 minutes, and is now being held by Daddy as he plays Command and Conquer. She dozes in his arms most times, and stares at him as he explains what he's doing. She likes how deep his voice is. It's cute.

Today I have an interview at 1pm up at the hospital. I'm really hoping that, now new people have been hired, my boss will allow me to leave. I have a horrible feeling that there has been negative feedback from her to potential new supers to try and keep me at the call center. In talking with others, I've found she did this before, too... And, I found out that one of the better employees got canned yesterday. I have no idea why. They claim it was because of poor performance. The gal didn't have NEARLY the poor performance of at least two people I can think of off the top of my head. But, that's why I'm not in charge and the dork is... *sigh*

Next Tuesday I have a dr's appointment for my 6-week postpartum check up and an IUD insertion... I was smart and kept one oxycodone aside for said insertion, as it can cause some major cramps. Wednesday I go back to work, which I'm not pleased about, but there you have it. While she drives me nuts, I've actually enjoyed being a stay-at-home mom for the last 6 weeks. The house hasn't gotten too bad, I've managed to keep my sanity (mostly), and I actually feel pretty good most days, as long as I can get out and go walking with Elizabeth three times a week. Unfortunately, I don't get paid to be a stay-at-home mom, so I have to head back.

Our tax refund from the Feds showed up, so now it's time to pay the state. Yippee. I'll cut the check to them this weekend. It was less than we had hoped it would be, but enough for us to have a very little left after paying the state.

There's a list of things which needs to get done this weekend, so it should be pretty busy for both Fred and I. Hopefully Elizabeth will cooperate and allow us to get most of it done.

Last but not least, we are taking the cat back to the Humane Society. Unfortunately, she is simply so jealous of both Fred and the baby that she is urinating and defecating on everything in her path outside her box - regardless of whether said box is clean or dirty. We cannot seem to break her of this, and I cannot have her doing this. She's peed on Elizabeth's play mat, my Afghanistan rug, Fred's clothing, poo'd on the couch, and both peed and poo'd in front of the sliding glass door repeatedly. So, that's it. We knew it was a 50/50 shot as to whether she'd be a good fit (no prior history other than she was abandoned by her previous owners), and at the HS, she seemed to really like Fred. But, she's just gotten more and more skittish and reclusive since she moved in with us, and has taken to occasionally attacking Fred. Hasn't attacked the baby - yet - and I'm not going to let her get the chance. Even the feline pheremone hasn't helped any. I believe her best bet is to find an older, single woman who lives by herself with no other pets, who either works part time or is retired.

Anyway, that's pretty much all there is to report at this point.

~M

Patterns may be emerging...

I hate daylight saving time. I always end up feeling as though someone slipped me something drastic to sleep, and I'll never catch up again. This is the only time I envy those living in Arizona.

In other news - we may actually have a pattern settling in with Elizabeth. I'm very cautiously optimistic about it, but it's looking as though she is going to cooperate regarding going to sleep by 10pm, and letting me stay asleep for about 2-3 hours at a time. We've only had issues when people have come over and stayed past around 7-8pm, because she's convinced she has to be awake for all of it, too. And/or, that if she was asleep during that time, she has to make up for it later by being awake and fussy.

Today I am going to attempt to do a load of dishes, and finish organizing and baby-proofing under the sinks. Can't do much else, since I can't really haul her around while doing laundry (the room is at the other end of the building), and can't leave her here while I head over to do said laundry. I was going to do that yesterday, but ended up sitting around instead. I don't *NEED* to do laundry, but the smaller loads are easier to handle.

The sink in the kitchen and large bathroom are already done. I got the baby cabinet locks, but wanted something in addition, just in case. So, got some tall storage boxes with lids to put the cleaners and things in, both to tidy up everything and have one more obstacle to place in Elizabeth's way, in case she decides she needs to get into the cupboards and manages to do so. I'm also re-organizing the bathroom shelves, and putting things away there. I already re-organized her clothes drawers, and got rid of the stuff that she's already grown out of. She's now over 10 lbs, and has grown at least 1.5 inches! I had to adjust her car seat already!

Anyway, other than that, not much to report. Going to get something to eat, then get Elizabeth changed and fed, then hopefully start on some dishes...

~M

Portrait of a Lizard...

I figured I'd share a few photos of the Lizard here, for those few who do read my blog. Enjoy!

SIDS and crying babies...

In one of my last posts, some coward decided to post anonymously that allowing Elizabeth to have a cry, after seeing to her physical needs, was selfish and that crying babies were more at risk for SIDS...

Thankfully, I have more sense than some people, and while I already KNEW that babies who cry are NOT going to die of SIDS, I looked up the specific information on it, in case Mr/Ms Anonymous decides to come back for a second attempt at trying to scare me...

The Mayo Clinic has a fairly comprehensive article on the subject, as well as possible indicators on how to help avoid it. Understand, however, that it will not completely safeguard your child from the issue - but following the guidelines will help keep your child safer.

~M

Not just blue...

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

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

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

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

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

Sleepy? Nay, rather exhausted, honestly.

I have taken the last 3 days off work due to the added physical stresses that Elizabeth, not to mention a rather nasty sinus infection, has decided to provide me. I've had mild but constant contractions for most of the last week, after Monday and Tuesday having some really GREAT ones for about 5 hours apiece - only to have them die down to nothing within 20 minutes or so. *sigh*

I've pretty well been sleeping the whole time, and I can only think that apparently I'm bank-rolling up time for the future, where I won't be able to sleep much at all. Those times I haven't been sleeping, I've been puttering around the house, sort of cleaning. Avoided the computer like the plague, and the phone, and haven't been horribly sociable, either.

Another thing that has been a thorn in my side is listening to the comments from those at work (yet another reason why I wouldn't want to go back at this point), about what's going on with the pregnancy... In one day, I heard from no less than 7 people in my department (and on that day, there were only 12 of us on the floor) "Gee, you STILL haven't had that baby yet?"

No, fuq'ers, I still haven't had the @$#%$#%$#@ baby yet. Does it LOOK like I've had the #$%$#%$##@ baby yet?! Honestly. My belly is so far out there that I am wearing the same size now that I had been at my heaviest prior to weight loss surgery, my back has decided that it's going to permanently bend itself into a compound bow shape, and my abdomen feels as though I have the world's worst hernia happening... What do YOU think I'm doing?

Makes one tempted to say "Yes, I had the baby, but I liked the shape so much I had an implant put in - it wiggles on command! Here's your sign..."

Tomorrow I spend all day up on pill hill in 3 separate appointments. First we get to stare at the baby for about an hour or so via ultrasound, to see whether she passes all 8 of her reflex tests. Then I go back in about 2 hours later and they do a "non-stress-test" fetal monitor, where they will hook up a heart-rate monitor to my belly and get a 25 minute strip of good, solid heartbeat - at least, that's the plan. Then finally, I have my OB appointment, where, hopefully, the results will be favorable to simply start things going via the wonders of modern medicine, and my OB will take pity on my poor self.

Now, mind you, I believe I have mentioned before that Elizabeth **HATES** to be monitored at all. She will scratch, kick, bump, wiggle away, and generally be a pain in the ass to all monitoring devices. I already explained to her several times if she didn't want to be monitored, she'd best get out now, so she doesn't have to deal with it. She gets agitated enough and she gets the hiccups, which then repeatedly (and rapidly) expands and contracts my belly while she bumps her little bottom into me and wiggles in outrage. The only way I have found to stop the hiccups is to pat her gently but firmly on her little bottom for about 2-3 minutes to calm her down. I'm pretty sure that she's ready to come out, and I *know* that I'm ready to have her come out - if only to stop the hiccup ride from happening yet again.

Tomorrow is also Fred's birthday... I was born on my father's birthday, so I will say it would be kind of cool to have Elizabeth born on HER daddy's birthday as well... She's already got his temper and sense of humor (obviously), so why not just go for the whole shebang? *chuckle* I think I'm more than wishful in this.

I did get to a point this weekend where I simply didn't care all that much about any of it at all. I was tired, having mild (but solid) contractions, and had a sinus headache. It was the most relaxed I've felt in a while, which is saying something... I'm not sure what, but it definitely said something. LOL.

So, keep your fingers crossed for me, and hope that soon, I will have a wiggly thing in my arms rather than still stuffed inside.

~M

All out of virtues...

They say that patience is a virtue... Unfortunately, I apparently do not have much, and what little I have normally is pretty well exhausted at this point.

Baby Elizabeth is still not out, and I am totally over the novelty of being pregnant and big as a house. Baby, however, is perfectly happy to stay inside until it's time for her college interviews, apparently. I feel like she's sitting so low she's between my knees, and I can't even get out to walk faster than a slow stroll.

Friday found me falling completely apart, and Fred had to go out to get me Excedrin PM, as suggested by both my OB and my PT. Turns out, I hadn't gotten more than about 4-5 hours of actual sleep in about 4-5days, which meant that I was totally exhausted and unable to function. I couldn't make any decisions whatsoever, and the only thing I was capable of doing was leaking (crying) everywhere and being incoherent.

After a few hours of E-pm induced sleep, I was feeling better, and could actually be social again with Fred and the cat. That night, I took another dose, and was able to sleep for a good 8 hours - 4 in bed and 4 on the couch (I've had to change venues in sleeping half-way through so I can get comfy). Saturday found me with no pain for the first time in months. Incredible.

So, at this point, we're just waiting. I'm now 50% effaced, possibly a bit more, but am still only dialated 1.5 cm (unless THAT'S changed, too). I don't have any further OB appointments, which everyone says is odd, so I need to call the clinic tomorrow and find out if I was supposed to make further appointments, or whether they were just going to have me go in when they called... I hit the 40 week mark on this upcoming Friday... Should make for an interesting weekend...

~M

On the way...

As of today, actually... I went to physical therapy thinking nothing more about the pregnancy other than "Gee, I wonder when this whole contraction thing is going to start in..." Little did I know.

I got massaged by my therapist, then went over to say hello to an old co-worker of mine who works in a different department now. I was only there a few minutes, and when I went to get up, I turned apparently ashen and almost fell down. I also had this weird tighening sensation that would not let up, and couldn't breathe.

Linda took one look at me and had me go back to the clinic and ask to see the nurse there. I did so, and after looking at me for a few minutes, they sent me up to Labor and Delivery.

Now, I knew that Elizabeth was NOT going to be arriving today. Not by a long shot. But, I was worried that something could be wrong, since this was not a "normal" reaction to simply getting up - at least, not for me.

They strapped me into a monitoring device, set another device to hear baby's heartbeat, and proceeded to have me sit there for a good 15 minutes. The nurse came back and looked up on the screen, then said...

"Oh! Well, you're having contractions about every 3-5 minutes."
"I am?" I said... I'd had no idea - they didn't feel painful, just pressure, building up and then releasing.
"Yup. Here comes another one..."
I concentrated for once on what my body was actually doing, rather than spacing off like I normally do, and this time felt a mild, though annoying, burning/shooting pain coming up my groin and into my abdomen, as well as across my back toward my sides and up my spine.

"Oh..." I said, "So THAT'S what they feel like... Good to know."

We proceeded to go back and forth monitoring the baby and changing my position slightly to try and alleviate pressure on my tailbone for about 4 hours. Watching paint dry would have been more interesting, if only because paint at least changes color as it dries.

Elizabeth showed her immediate distaste of the entire monitoring situation by first trying to kick the monitor off her. Then, when that didn't work, she tried scratching it and/or rolling away from it. When that didn't work, either, she realized I was on my back, so she snuck into my belly cavity and hid away from it like a little submarine. I had warned them that she didn't like to be monitored, and she had an attitude, but they didn't believe me until they actually SAW what she was doing.

At one point she got so agitated that she got the hiccups again. That got a round of giggles from the nurse and the doctors. Of course, by the end of the 3rd hour, my contractions had pretty well stopped, since I hadn't been moving for 3 hours... Dammit.

The exam conclusion was yes, I'm in labor, no nothing is serious at this point, and yes I'm dialated, but only about 1-2 cm's - certainly too small to do anything with at this point. So, I'm walking lots, drinking lots of raspberry tea, and following up with more walking. Tomorrow I'm walking the pool again, if she hasn't decided to take matters into her own hands and have me go further into labor than I already am...

I went shopping this evening for all the groceries I think we'll need for a little bit - wanted to make sure that Fred had food, and that I would have food as well if she went ahead of schedule and I was too pooped to go to the store afterwards. We also picked up a few weeks worth of disposables just in case, as well as baby wipes, bath stuff, and some nursing pads and the OTHER pads... So, we should be mostly ok at this point... We'll see.

~M

On to the ricockulous...

Because it's beyond ridiculous...

Got a text message from my mother yesterday informing me that she hoped the baby would be late, as she wouldn't be able to get away and come down until at least the 8th of Feb, and would only be able to stay until the 15th...

I'm inclined to tell her not to even bother.

Honestly, I'm not sure she understands that I'm even *in* the family at this point... She's so wrapped up with taking care of my sister and her kids - that's why she can't get away. Mel can't seem to keep her 15-year-old under a modicum of control and personally responsible for herself and her actions, and "can't" find a daycare program that she likes for the 3-year-old. Thus, my mother chooses to drive back and forth between Pt Townsend and Seattle each week and takes care of the kids while Mel goes either to work (dump truck driver, union, makes $28-$32/hr) or to physical therapy for her foot - which she's been nursing for a year or more.

Whenever I point out that Mel is a grown woman, and should be capable of taking care of her kids herself, Mom plays the guilt card, stating that Mel is a single parent, can't do everything by herself, blah blah blah... She's done this for the past 10 years, and probably will not stop until she dies of an overdose from travel.

Since Mel had such a "terrible" childhood (parents divorced when she was 9, was beaten regularly by father, chose to live on streets by 13 to avoid her "horrible" step-father [my dad] and her horrible father), and mum couldn't fix it, she feels it necessary to do everything she possibly can to "fix" things now... And Mel, since she had such a terrible childhood, and mum didn't fix it, feels she is entitled to everything she possibly can get from the world - and is training her children to be the same way.

Never mind that Mel had a choice when she decided to live on the streets - she could have lived with either our grandmother, or live with my father and our mother. However, she would have had to live with rules she didn't want to live by... like going to school, getting decent grades, getting a job if she wanted extra money, etc... All those horrible things that a responsible young adult does as they grow up and learn to live on their own in the world...

Rather than do that, Mel chose to live on the streets by her own rules, and ended up on drugs and alcohol by the time she was 16, and didn't get clean until she was 26. Our mother blames herself for Mel's past choices and Mel's father being a child- and wife-beater, so as I mentioned before, she is attoning for her past "sins".

Since I had 2 parents my whole life, neither of whom beat or abused me, apparently I don't need to have the support that my sister does... And while my mother feels guilty about it, she consoles herself with the fact that my upbringing was so much better than Mel's, and I didn't have the issues that Mel had growing up.

I got so angry (and am STILL so angry about it), I felt like screaming. Last night, however, had an odd dream with Dad in it. He showed up and we spoke for about two hours about it - the upshot was that he told me even if Mom wasn't there, he would be. Before you think this is a "normal" thing, Dad passed away in '94... So, it was rather bizarre.

There's something not quite right with a family where you can rely more on your dead relatives than you can on your live ones...

~M

OK...

So, yeah, it's been a bit since my last update. I would have written this weekend, but I was a bit busy...

See, with the baby coming, I got a wild hair up my ass and decided that we really needed to do a cleaning party on the house. Not just a bit of dusting and putting stuff away, but really, down-and-dirty, in the cracks and crevaces clean.

So, at 9:45 Saturday morning, Raistlin arrived with TSP and a determined attitude. We woke up the two girls who had slept over the night before after visiting, and roped them into it as well. I brewed coffee, and started general fussing with snack items, as I had been told repeatedly that I was not to do *ANYTHING* more strenuous than putting out cheese and crackers.

Lil and Anxiety showed up around 10:30 or so and commenced to helping out. Lil got into the kitchen and Anxiety helped move everything out of the front room.

I apparently was a lot more optimistic about the house than I should have been... There was 8 years worth of bachelor-hood to be removed from both the walls and floor, not to mention the at-least 6-7 years worth of dust wending its way through the rooms as well...

Bobby came by around noon with the shampooer, which was perfect timing, as most of the room had been emptied, less the large furniture items. The room had its walls completely washed down and all the nicotine plaque from years of smoking in the house was removed. Then the baseboard heater was washed down, the floor was swept, then vacuumed, and then Bobby commenced to shampooing the carpet.

To say that it was a bit needed was something of an understatement. I honestly am surprised that it's still together at this point, since what we got up looked like we could have planted several redwoods and they would have thrived. It went from dark black dirt-water, to gamer-strength coffee (equal to the opacity of Turkish coffee), to sort of a dirt-grey after two rinses. We decided to stop there, since obviously we weren't going to get much more out of the carpet, besides the carpet itself - and we would like to keep it...

Bobby also steam-cleaned the persian rug, which apparently also needed it. Years of general abuse, and nothing other than the occasional vacuum left it needing a good washing.

Next, everything had to be put *back* - a more physically demanding part of the job. While everyone else was heading into and out of the baby room (where we had stored pretty much everything while the front room was being cleaned), I snuck into the bathroom with impliments of destruction and proceeded to re-caulk the bathtub, and wash down the walls. Yes, I'm evil. But I really needed to do something, and that type of nit-picky job was just perfect for me, since it was out of the way and was needing to be done, anyway.

Lil and Anxiety had to leave around one-ish, to finish some errands. The kitchen, while not completely clean (tops of the cupboards and fridge, and inside of fridge still needed to be done), was much better than it had been, and the extra hands were definitely appreciated.

I ordered out for pizza about 4pm - the time when Raistlin and Emma both found me in the bathroom wiping down walls and gave me dirty looks for doing anything... Just as an aside note: The Pizza Hut Pizza Mia pizzas are good, but you won't get nearly the amount of toppings they advertize on tv. Then again, for $5 per shot, I wasn't expecting huge amounts of anything.

We stopped, finally, around 6:30-ish... And I realized that we hadn't even touched the dining room, or our room, and there were lots of things still stacked up in piles to go through in the Baby's room, too... I decided not to worry about it at that point, but did realize that 10 years worth of dirt and grime is going to take more than 1 day to wipe out - unless you have about 5 people per room working on it...

We gamed afterwards, which was a nice way to relax for the evening, and then went to bed where I had a pretty good night's sleep for once.

Sunday found me in a chair in front of the fridge, unpacking and cleaning the inside of it. I got only to the fridge part of it - not the seal, the freezer or the outside, much to my dismay. My back gave out on me after a few hours, and I ended up paying for it Monday morning when it wouldn't let me out of bed for literally 2.5 hours, causing me to think that perhaps I was going to have to get the mattress steam-cleaned as well...

I also did a quick photo shoot with Fred to show off how big Elizabeth has gotten in comparison to me... They came out pretty darned good, if I do say so myself. I will have to post up a few of my faves once they're done editing.

I called in yesterday and proceeded to hot-pack my back and hips all day, and did physical therapy exersises in a vain attempt to relax my back enough to sleep last night. Had a few braxton-hicks which felt fairly strong and regular, but then went away after about two hours. The pool at the gym helped my back and hips, though I did find that there were times when it was almost impossible to move myself through the water simply because of the shape that I am currently. Rounded prow of ship, plus opposing force of water, equals stuck for a few seconds...

Went home last night and collapsed. Woke up at 3, just in time to realize not only could I not breathe, my back and hips were both killing me. So, took some tylenol and sucked on a throat losenge to try and clear out my sinuses. It worked - sort of. I got more sleep, at least.

I have decided that the next really big project is going to be our room. I have no allergy problem at all in the front room now - it's all in our room. Can't breathe, can't sleep very well, and my throat always feels sore. SO - I will be bugging Bobby to bring back the steam-cleaner and we will do the same thing in our room we did to the front room, then put everything back, tidily. Hopefully we can do this prior to the baby being born - though I have to say this right now:

If I head off to have the baby prior to having the room done, I want the room done before I come home. *chuckle*

This weekend's major project will most likely be cleaning up, sorting and putting away everything in the baby's room. Raistlin is thinking that Elizabeth will come on Saturday. I just know that things seem to feel like they're gearing up a little faster than they had been even two weeks ago when baby dropped. I'm wanting to sleep pretty much full-time, but when I'm awake it's all I can do to not get down on hands and knees and start tooth-brush scrubbing floors (I stop myself because there's no one to pick me up when my legs go to sleep...).

So, I will keep people updated on the continuing story of getting the house in order, as well as the Elizabeth project. *chuckle*

~M

"Not everyone is perfect..."

So, I'm waiting at the bus stop today, and watch as the bus comes up and almost passes by me. It comes to a halt, then the driver has another 45 seconds trying to open the door so I could get in.

The issue was not that the bus was old (it was, but still in good working order), or that the driver didn't *know* what she was doing (she did). No - the issue that caused her to both almost miss my stop completely, pull in late, and then not be able to open the door properly was because her bright red, Motorolla flip-phone was firmly glued to her ear, being held up by one of her hands...

Now, while Oregon does not yet have a law enacted to prohibit the use of cell phones while driving, the public transit company DOES have a regulation prohibiting drivers from the use of cell phones while driving. The possibility of serious injury to either the driver, the passengers, or to other motorists increases 10-fold when dealing with a 1-ton vehicle...

So, here we are 17 passengers, two of which haven't even reached age 6 yet, are all being driven around by this woman who cannot seem to put down her phone. She finally clicks it off about half-way through my ride. I already noted down the bus information and time into my phone so I can call it in, but can't resist seeing whether she actually thought what she was doing was really *wrong*.

The verbal exchange went as follows:

Me: Honestly, I don't think I'd ever be as brave as you...
Driver: Brave? Brave how?
M: Driving a bus with the lives of 15 people in my hands, all while talking constantly on my cell phone.
D: Well, not all of us are perfect, you know... Are you?
M: No - but at least I know when to put my cell phone down and not use it.
D: Well, as I said - Not everyone is perfect in this world...
M: Hmmm. Be that as it may, I know that Tri-Met really frowns on the usage of cell phones while you guys are driving.
D: Yeah, that's true - but again, not everyone is perfect - I know I'm not, what about you? (getting a defensive tone in her voice)
M:(as I'm getting out of the bus at my stop) Not everyone is perfect, but everyone has the possibility of following their company regulations and being responsible.

This exchange really got me thinking, especially since the driver readily acknowledged that she knew the policy against driving while talking on her cell, but excused it so easily by saying that "not everyone is perfect". When (because with her attitude, it's not a question of if) she ends up in an accident due to driving while talking on her cell phone, and she injures her passengers and whomever she hits, what will she say to the review board? "Well, yeah, I know that there was a risk factor involved, but, you know - not everyone is perfect..." Does she really believe that this is going to get her out of trouble?

I am of the honest opinion that you should be able to do whatever you wish - as long as you are not going to take others along with you if you're going to be reckless. Once you start putting other people into possible physical danger, you forfeit the right to being so cavalier an attitude about what it is that you're doing. If you have the possibility of injuring or killing another human being by your actions, you don't get to do that anymore. Period. End of story.

I don't think that any judge in any part of the country would accept the "Well, ya know your honor, yes, I knew the policy, and yes I knew there was a risk, but - not everyone is perfect" as a valid excuse for any reckless action. If you willingly took the risk there's no excuse, and you deserve to be punished.

I'm so calling the transit center tomorrow.

~M