October 14, 2009

On Labor Induction and the Greatest Doctor Ever

Today’s ultrasound revealed that Monster Baby is just under 9 pounds.

“Give or take 15 ounces either way,” says the technician, and I swear my vagina let out a scream of terror.

I left the exam room and called Doug to let him know the results.  He laughed.  I’m certain he gets a big kick out of the thought of me being in immense pain.  I’m thinking of ways to get revenge.  Send your suggestions, will ya?

I had time between the ultrasound and my scheduled 39 week appointment, so I drove down to Taco Bell and enjoyed a ranchero chicken soft taco and fiesta potatoes.  I had been craving the stuff for a week or more, and i figured I better indulge now, before many sleepless nights and foggy days commence.  It was worth it.  Of course, I needed a Tums post lunch, but I survived.

When I got back to the OB/GYN department for my appointment, I ran into a girl I went to high school with.  She was a year or two behind me in school and I remember her as being very annoying back then.  She never stopped talking, always asked a boat load of questions and I never enjoyed talking to her.  I remember smiling and nodding a lot, and never finding a way to escape her chattering.

Turns out, some people never change.  She wanted to know how far along I was, what I was having (“a baby, duh”) and what names I had chosen.  Where was my husband, she asked, and why doesn’t he come to the appointment with you?  When she asked if this was my first baby, I shook my head and reached into my purse for my BlackBerry.  I proceeded to pretend I was very busy checking work e-mails.  I was really Twittering.  I think I posted an update that said, “Why do I always run into annoying people at the doc’s office?”

Finally the nurse called me back and I waited patiently for Dr. Fatchikov to examine me.  He knocked on the door shortly thereafter.  I was yawning and he said, “Oh, that is the face of an exhausted and desperate woman.”

“Yes,” I said. “I am ready to have this baby.  The longer I am pregnant, the more tired I get.  Sadly that won’t change post baby!”

When he checked my cervix, Dr. F discovered I was still stuck between 2 and 3 centimeters dilated.  He measured my fundal height and then looked at the ultrasound results.

“Okay, baby is big.  Let’s see what we can do.” he told me.

He called the maternity floor and asked what his schedule was like for tomorrow, as he is on call, but he already had a scheduled cesarean and a scheduled induction.  Dr. F said it would not be fair to bring me in if he couldn’t promise his undivided attention.

“I really want to be the one to deliver your baby, but I am not comfortable with leaving you several times to attend to other patients.  That is not my style of practice.” he said.

This is what I love about my doctor.  He is honest.  He is kind.  No fluff.  No sugar coating.  And he listens.  He truly cares about his patients, and if I could pronounce his first name (which is Tzvetan) I would totally name my son after him.

My other doctor (I have two because of my high risk history) happens to be on call on Friday, and Dr. F scheduled my induction for Friday morning at 7 a.m.

“Now, if my two deliveries go down without a hitch tomorrow, I will call you and you come in to be induced.  I can’t promise, but I will try.  Otherwise, you will be in on Friday.  I will check up on you Saturday afternoon.” Dr. F explained.

He paged the nurse to complete the paper work and gave me a hug.  I didn’t want to let go of the man.  Which sounds a little nuts, I know, but this doctor has been so good to me over the last year and half.  I can’t even describe the level of professionalism and kindness he has shown me.  He is, and has been, the most amazing doctor a woman could ever ask for.  I thanked him, with tears in my eyes, for all that he has done for me.

“Oh,” he said. “Be careful.  You don’t want to see your doctor cry.  Good luck, and I see you very soon.”

After he left the room, I got dressed and waited for the nurse to bring in the paperwork.  I thought about the my first appointment with Dr. F and how depressed I was with my PCOS and my failure to conceive and how I was starting to think I was crazy, because other doctors told me I was fine and that weight loss would solve all my problems.

“You are not crazy,” Dr. F had told me.  “This is a real disease and weight loss alone is not enough.”

He listened to me.  He encouraged me.  He cheered me on in my efforts to lose weight.  With every pound lost, he gave me a high five, and sometimes a friendly hug.

He prescribed the right medicines to help my body overcome the obstacles that PCOS had thrown at me.  And eight months after my first appointment, I was pregnant. Without Dr. Fatchikov, I don’t think it would have happened.  He gave me hope.

Maybe it’s hormones that are making me so emotional, but I feel very lucky to have such a wonderful doctor.  Thank you, Dr. F.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

So.  Friday is the big day.  I’m anxious.  Nervous.  Excited.  And ready.  So very ready.

October 13, 2009

Happy Anniversary!

Here’s to eight years, (soon-to-be) two kids, a dog, a house and more fun than one could ever imagine.  Love you, forever and always.

October 11, 2009

Filling the Void

While I wait patiently (or not) for Little Monster Baby (how’s that for an oxymoron) to arrive, I thought I’d kill some blog time with photos.  It’s hard to write a real blog post because I’m starting to sound redundant.  I write about the same things, because I’ve been doing the same things for days.

Okay, and I’m tired. I spent today cleaning (more cleaning, you ask? yes, because I’ve gone completely anal about organization in this house. that and I have nothing else to do while I wait for the baby to make his way into the world) my dining room, my craft area, and other things. Then Doug and I went to lunch at Tempura House.  They have the best buffet.  I love the sweet & sour chicken, General Tso’s chicken, and of course crab rangoon. Yum.

Dawson spent the night at my parents’ house so we could go to that wedding last night, and Doug and I really enjoyed our day together, even if we were just getting all those last minute things completed.  I vacuumed all the carpets.  Doug blew out the sprinklers for the winter.  I folded laundry. He blanched and froze more vegetables from our garden.

The only thing we didn’t finish was weather-proofing our windows with that shrink wrap, plastic stuff.  But there’s always tomorrow.  As long as a certain baby stays in my uterus.  Which is probably going to happen.  He’s showing no interest in being born just yet.  I’m still in physical pain, but cleaning distracts me.

Okay, enough of the random babbling.  I give you my favorite photos of the last few weeks (months?):

My neighbor’s daughter, Katie, with her brothers at her wedding reception last night.  These kids (who aren’t really kids anymore) are triplets.  I’ve known their family since I was a kid.  I can’t believe how grown up they are now.

The beautiful bride and handsome groom pose for a photo.  They are just adorable, aren’t they?

Last Monday, Dawson and I went on a Mom & Son date.  We had dinner at Rocky Roccoco’s and then went to see the Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen movie that was re-playing at our local theater.  We had a fantastic time.

We had some funky things happen to a few of the tomatoes we grew this year.  This one seems to have grown a nose.  Or… Nevermind. I’m not even going to say it.  Still the funniest produce ever.

I tried to get a picture of all the kids at Dawson’s birthday party two weeks ago, and this one is almost perfect.  Only one child is looking away, and one is missing from the photo because he was having a meltdown.  Still a fantastic party.  Everyone had a fantastic time.

Dawson had such fun bowling.  Here he is, just after granny-bowling the ball down the lane.

Now that I’ve uploaded all the photos (from both cameras) from the last few weeks, I’ve charged all the batteries and put everything into my hospital bag.  I’m ready for Baby O to arrive.  Counting down days!

October 9, 2009

Down to the Wire

My 38-week prenatal appointment was Wednesday morning.  The receptionist checked me in, I gave my urine sample to the nurse, and was promptly taken back to an exam room where I waited 20 minutes for my doctor to see me.

I could hear him talking to the patient in the room next door.  At first I was annoyed because I was tired and sitting half-naked on the exam table with a paper sheet covering my nether regions.  But then I heard the words “ovarian cancer” and “thought I should have a pap” and realized whomever was being seen next door probably needed my fabulous doctor’s attention more than I did at that moment.

When my doctor finally came into the room, I was practically nodding off.

“How are we doing?” he asked.

“Oh, you know. I’m just exhausted now.  I went through the nesting stage and now I’m just too tired to do anything else.  I want this baby out.” I told him.

Dr. F commended me for my blood pressure, my reading was 128/78.  He said I must have been resting well since Friday’s hospital stay, and I nodded.

Next he checked my cervix.  I am now only 3 cm dilated and 60% effaced.  Dr. F did an external palpation and estimates that Monster Baby is between 8 and 8 1/2 pounds.  He ordered another ultrasound for this coming Wednesday to confirm the size, and my 39 week appointment will be afterward.  He says he could be off the mark by a pound either way, so the u/s will provide more accuracy.

The concern is that the longer I am pregnant, the bigger the baby will get, and if this little large one gets to 9+ pounds, I may have difficulty delivering naturally.  The risk of having a cesarean section is high due to the baby’s size.

Dr. F wants to schedule induction for next week if the baby does not arrive on his own before Wednesday’s appointment.  He did say that with this type of intervention (induction via pitocin) the risk of C-section increases, but he says trying to push a large baby out can be painful and can cause complications like shoulder dystocia and we want to avoid such things.

I agree with the idea of induction, simply because I have a horrible fear of surgeries, especially ones that require cutting open my abdomen.  When I had gall bladder surgery six years ago, I had a panic attack before they put me under.  I have this irrational fear about dying under the knife.  I know it’s crazy, but I can’t seem to get over it.

The last two days have been long.  I’m so tired.  I don’t sleep at night.  I nod off several times during the day.  I practically live in the bathroom.  And the thirst!  I’m always so thirsty.  I swear I drink more than 8 glasses each day, which explains the bathroom visits and waking up six times each night.

Walking has become unbelievably painful.  Worse than the round ligament pain I was experiencing a few weeks ago.  Now it seems like I’m walking with a bowling ball between my legs, and several times a day I have this feeling as though the baby is just going to fall out. Add some mild lower back pain and menstrual-like cramps to the mix and I am one crabby, hugely pregnant woman.

Tomorrow Dawson has soccer in the morning, and then he’s going to Grandma and Grandpa’s house for the weekend.  Doug and I have a wedding to attend and I’m looking forward to one last night out before my life changes forever.  Unless a baby happens to arrive, I plan on enjoying myself for a few hours.

I promise to keep you posted throughout the next five days.  You can also follow me on Twitter and Facebook if you’d like.  Stay tuned.  Baby should be here any day now.