June 13, 2009
The Kid and The Dog: A Photo Essay
Murphy, our adorable Boston Terrier, joined our family in January of 2004, 3 weeks before I discovered I was pregnant. Eight months later, Dawson was born and Murphy knew he was in competition with his “brother”, also known as The Tiny Crying Thing that Mom and Dad Are Always Holding.
In the beginning, Murphy would run into another room whenever Dawson cried. When Dawson was around three months old, Murphy took an interest in him. He loved to sniff his little head and lick his baby toes. Once Dawson became mobile, war began in our house.
We tried to teach Dawson to be gentle with Murphy, encouraging gentle touch and reprimanding him when he pulled on the dog’s ears and fur.
Dawson and Murphy have a love-hate relationship. At times they love to play together, the rest of the time they fight like boy and dog.
Doug and I let Dawson and Murphy sleep in our bed. Murphy has slept with us ever since I brought him home and couldn’t get him to stop whimpering unless I let him sleep curled into my neck. Dawson began sleeping in our bed at 18 months old, due to a back injury that prevented me from lifting him into and out of his crib. It was a habit we didn’t intend to start, but now we haven’t got the heart to end it.
Every morning it’s the same routine. Dawson wakes up, crawls down to the foot of the bed by Murphy and gives him hugs and kisses and a few tugs on his neck. Murphy endures it for five minutes and then tries to escape Dawson’s grasp. Dawson pulls him back, Murphy playfully nips at him, and they “fight nice” for awhile until Murphy gets fed up and leaves the room.
Yesterday morning I decided to get a few photos:
“Okay, Kid. I’ll pretend to like you for the camera. Maybe Mom will give me a snausage if I cooperate.”
“No snausage? Fine. If I ignore him, will he go away?”
“Lady, I better get a damn treat for enduring the Kid and the camera!”
“Screw this! I’m outta here.”
(And yes, I did give Murphy his snausage.)
June 12, 2009
20 Weeks and All Is Well, So Far…
Yesterday was absolutely chaotic. CHAOTIC.
I woke up early to start working and get half my work done before leaving for my 11 a.m. doctor’s appointment. Doug had off so he kept Dawson occupied so I could be poked and prodded without distraction. Yay me!
On the drive to the clinic I got stuck behind a school bus (last day of school, I think), and arrived in the waiting room of the OB/GYN’s office at 10:55 on the dot. I went through the check-in process, the one where they ask me my name, DOB, insurance carrier and person to notify in case of emergency, EVERY SINGLE TIME, and the receptionist says, “Oooh. You were supposed to be here at 10 a.m.”
“Uh, no, my appointment slip says 11 a.m.,” I told her, and reached into my purse to show her.
“This is for your labs,” she said, with a very snotty tone of voice.
“It doesn’t say that. It says OB/GYN and I had labs yesterday.” I was beginning to get upset. The day before I had blood drawn and picked up the 24-hour urine collection jug. What other labs is this crazy woman talking about?
The receptionist called back to my doctor’s office and told one of the nurses that she was putting me in at 11 a.m. because I no-showed at 10 a.m. After she hung up, I really let her have it.
“I did not no-show. And this office called me on Tuesday to confirm my 11 a.m. appointment with Dr. F.” my voice was shaking. It doesn’t take much to make a pregnant woman (and a very hormonal one) cry.
“Don’t worry she said. The doctor will still see you.” she was oblivious to the fact that they screwed up.
I took my seat in the waiting room, pee in hand (I had to bring in a small sample so the OB nurse could dip it or whatever it is they do) and waited to be called back for my 11 AM APPOINTMENT.
Ten minutes later the nurse calls my name and I followed her to the exam room. She weighed me, took my blood pressure and apologized for the confusion. Apparently I was supposed to do glucose testing after my appointment, and someone entered the wrong appointment times into the computer.
“Can you tell that to the mean receptionist? She blamed me for this mistake.”
The nurse laughed and told me that the receptionists get flustered too easily and she apologized for the rude woman’s behavior. I felt a little better but was annoyed that I had to wait another 35 mintues for my doctor to see me.
Apparently he had another 11 a.m. appointment AND a “walk-in”. They don’t even take walk-in appointments, but a woman showed up without an appointment and demanded to see Dr. F. This woman and her husband were in the exam room next to mine and I could hear everything they said. From what I gathered, this couple had been trying to conceive for a very long time without success. They were angry, and rightfully so.
Dr. F explained all of their options, just as he had done when I first came to see him. He was patient and kind and answered every single question they asked. I began to calm down, because I realized I’m lucky to have such an amazing doctor. He truly cares about every single one of his patients and it shows.
When he finally made it to the room I was in, he gave me his signature hi-five and said, “Okay, so how eez eet going?”
I told him I was concerned with how much this baby is growing, I was concerned about my weight and I was afraid of the possibility that I could have gestational diabetes.
Dr. F told me the baby is growing nicely, and yes it is a big baby (or as he said, ” a veddy beeg babee!”), and that my weight gain of 7 pounds is perfect. Perfect! Imagine that. I’m doing something right, for once. He said that even though he only wants to see a gain of 15 pounds total, if happen to hit 20 pounds, he won’t be upset. He even told me my blood pressure was great. He checked my ankles and no swelling was present. The only concern was gestational diabetes, but I’d be doing that test that day.
The entire time he spoke to me, I felt 100% calm. He had me climb onto the table and measured my belly. Still measuring 3 weeks ahead of my gestation. Then I heard Baby’s heartbeat. It was back to 150s (at the ultrasound it was 138).
Then Dr. F explained that they will monitor Baby’s growth very closely. If baby is still rather large at 38 weeks, and the lungs are mature, they will induce. If not, then I’ll be required to have a C-section if the baby is over 10 pounds. This will all be determined by bi0physical profile, and he told me not to worry. I still began to worry. So much for calm.
Then he ordered the glucose testing and another ultrasound for Tuesday. Since I had to come back to the office later that day to drop my off my big jug of urine at the Lab, which required another blood draw, I decided it would be better to do the glucose testing at the same time. I figured they could take two blood samples with one poke instead of me being poked twice in one day.
Turns out I was poked three times that day. I arrived at the second appointment at 3:30, dropped off the pee, elevated (or took the elevator) to the 3rd floor, drank the disgusting flat sprite drink, went back to the first floor lab, waited an hour, and finally got called back to have the blood drawn.
The phlebotomist poked my left arm first and missed. Then she tried my right arm, the one with invisi-vains, and missed. Finally she resorted to poking my left hand and FINALLY! THANKS BE TO GOD! she got it right. Two viles later and I was so exhausted I thought I was going to pass out. And today? My freaking hand hurts. I still have four months of poking and prodding to endure before this baby arrives.
So that’s what’s going on. I’m healthy, baby is healthy, weight is good, blood pressure is good. The only concern is gestational diabetes and having a ginormous baby. I’m hoping to get the results of the glucose test today. Cross your fingers for me. I’m still worried. I can’t help it. It’s just my nature.
Help me calm down, will ya?
UPDATE – My favorite nurse, Jane, called at 11 a.m. with the test results. All my labs were fine. No gestational diabetes, no protein in the urine. The only “problem” was that my heboglobin and hematocrit tests showed low iron. I have to take ferrous sulfate, one pill each day to prevent anemia. Other than that, all is well. Hooray!
June 11, 2009
Insomnia: Pregnancy Edition
Yes, it really is 1:30 in the morning. This pregnant woman cannot sleep. It’s my own fault because when I got home from my 3 p.m. lab appointment at my doctor’s office (20 week blood draw, 24-hour urine collection jug pick-up) I had a splitting headache. Even Tylenol (totally safe to take when pregnant, says my doctor) didn’t help.
At 4:30 I crashed on the couch. Dawson curled up next to me with his favorite “blankie” and fell asleep in my arms. It was wonderful to cuddle with The Boy Who Is Always Moving, but he was so comfortable that it felt as if he weighed a thousand pounds. His sibling must have felt it, too, because he or she (still don’t know, next ultrasound next week) was kicking like mad.
After an hour of being smothered cuddling with my boy, Doug offered to help me escape from the couch. I kissed my Doodlebug’s chubby cheeks several times and then dragged myself to the other couch and tried to close my eyes and will the headache away. No luck.
Doug made dinner and I picked at my food at first, but then managed to eat. He made BBQ’s and they were delicious, but immediately I was thirsty and proceeded to drink my weight in water. In fact, I drank so much water today that I spent most of my day in the bathroom.
At 6:30 Dawson awoke from his nap. He hasn’t taken a nap in a year or more, so at first I was worried he was coming down with something, turns out he was fully recharged and ready to rock the house.
“Mom, let’s play Transformers!” he shouted with excitement.
“Okay! I’m going to transform into a sleeping mommy, sound good?”
“No, Mom! You gotta be the one that turns into a truck.” he said.
Then he ran around the coffee table in the living room and Murphy thought it was play time and chased him, barking all the way.
The noise in combination with the headache made me want to vomit, and then I realized it was a migraine. Before getting pregnant, I got migraines quite often, mostly during that certain time of the month. This pregnancy migraine was probably only the second one I’ve had since February. Which is good news, but painful just the same.
I think Doug sensed I was miserable because he told me, “Why don’t you go downstairs to the family room. Lay down on the couch in the dark and I’m sure you’ll feel better in no time.”
I took his advice. We live in a bi-level home and the lower level is much cooler. The shift in temperature made my sinuses open up (damn rhinitus of pregnancy) and I could breathe better. I grabbed a blanket and pillows and sank into one of the sofas. I must have fallen asleep shortly thereafter, because I woke up at 12:30 with the urgent need to pee.
And now I’m wide awake. I don’t even know what time I fell asleep. I do remember hearing Doug tell Dawson it was time for bed, but I’m sure I was drifting in and out of sleep. I think I went downstairs at 7:30-ish, so I’m sure I slept at least 4 hours.
Tomorrow morning is my 20-week doctor’s appointment and I’m nervous because we’ll be going over test results, blood pressure, weight check, etc. I’m sure all is well but I have a tendency to worry. I blame genetics. My mother is a worrier, too.
Blogging this late at night is like a glass of warm milk. Suddenly I’m just tired enough to go back to sleep (or at least try). Good night, y’all. Or, Good Morning?
Posted by Dana
1:49 AM •
Pregnancy •
