Blog photo theft

I’m off to nursery shop with a girlfriend, and don’t have time to actually copy and paste the photos that I want you to see, so I’m just going to send you over to Holding On For The Ride, where my friend Andrea has some great pictures of Seth.

Andrea was sweet enough to keep Seth for me while Jim and I went to the MFM on Wednesday.

Needless to say, Seth did NOT want to come home with boring ol’ mom when it was all said and done. ;)

Seth and I are BOTH lucky to have such great friends!

Reflection on shadows

I came across this picture the other day.  It stirred up a lot of emotions that I haven’t quite sorted through.

But I love it so much, I wanted to share it, despite the lack of “explanation” to go along with it.

(Oh, and just to clarify, I was about 25 weeks pregnant with Seth when I took this.  I’m standing in his nursery at our home in Toledo.)

Part III: The C-Section

I have to start out with a disclaimer: I plan to be entirely honest with this post -- not so much in "be prepared, I'm going to gross you out with bloody details" honest, but more like "I'm not going to pull any punches with how I was really feeling" honest. I sugarcoated a lot of things throughout my pregnancy; when people would ask "So, how are you doing?" I'd most often grin and say "I actually feel pretty great," (or some other similar comment). But after this experience, I was just plain too tired to bother with niceties, and from here on out, if someone bothered to ask how things were, I decided to just tell it like it is. So, with that said, here is the conclusion of Seth's birth day.

When I was "old" enough, I was allowed to stay up and watch Saturday Night Live with my dad. Sometimes, though, we'd flip from NBC to Fox (I think it was Fox) to watch bizarre episodes of Tales From the Crypt. The only thing I could think of as I walked into the operating room the Friday night Seth was born was "I'm walking into an episode of TFTC." The OR was as cold and sterile as they come -- bright white bulbs (and lots of them) bouncing light of bright white walls -- and filled with strange people, all of whom were (appropriately) in bright green scrubs...but only being able to see their eyes was a little disconcerting, and several of them were standing there in that "just scrubbed in" position, with arms out and bent upwards at the elbows. In my mind, all I can think is "they want to harvest my organs." What took the cake, though, was the Christmas music, distant and tinny-sounding, being piped into overhead speakers. It was just so surreal.

Side note: I need to point out here that I had two anesthesiologists for my surgery -- one nice one (we'll call her Annie) and one not-so-nice one (we'll call him Dr. Jerk). Dr. Jerk was the one who ordered the last-minute blood tests, ticking off Dr. Gibbs and pushing the operation back.

So, I hobble/waddle/limp into the OR, shaking and sobbing and trying to breathe through the awful contraction that was ripping through my abdomen and shooting down my left leg, and Annie asks me to climb up on the operating table. I looked her square in the eye, and restated, just for the record, "I don't want to do this." (I'm sure I made the most pathetic sight.) Still, she patiently helped me onto the table, and instructed me me to straddle it like a horse, bend low over my Seth-bump (which he hated, by the way), and to curve my back for an "easier" insertion of my spinal medication. I did my best, but I know I was shaking uncontrollably, and I was starting to hyperventilate, as I was crying so hard. And in walks Dr. Jerk and says "What? Can't you get your feet up on the table?" So then he and Annie start arguing about the best way to position me for my spinal; they finally decide that, yes, I should have my legs up on the table. So, I go from uncomfortably squishing Seth to really, really squishing him as I'm now, basically, trying to do a toe-touch.

Annie started a routine play-by-play of what they were doing: "We're swabbing you with antiseptic." "We're creating a sterile patch." You know, things like that. I don't know what went wrong at this point, but all of the sudden, Dr. Jerk goes, "Oh, sh--!," and my nurse says to me, "now, hon, let me remind you to not move at all, as the needle is still in your spine." All the while, I here chaos behind me: "Well, how much of the dose do you think we lost?" "I don't know; do you think we got even half in her?" "Well, we need to make sure we replace the dosage enough so that she's out for the cut." Ugh. It was awful! Basically, the needle had slipped, and half of my spinal had spilled.

Dr. Jerk finally gets his stuff together (and yes, I'm assuming this whole debacle was his fault, not Annie's), and they administer the rest of the dose. Unfortunately, though, by the time they finish, and Annie sweetly tells me to scoot my butt down the table, the original half-dose of numbing agent has taken effect, and I am completely unable to "scoot" myself (which ticked off Dr. Jerk something fierce).

They all finally get me situated, and drape the curtain at my shoulders to created Dr. Gibbs' sterile field and block my view of the surgery. Nurses start calling out to each other, I'm guessing, to do some sort of instrument check, and Dr. Jerk starts poking me with a needle, asking "Can you feel this? Does this hurt?" to determine if my spinal is taking effect correctly. This was SO frustrating! As the spinal spreads, it creates an awful pins-and-needles sensation, so my entire lower half feels like I"m being stung by a thousand little bees, and here is this moron, poking me with a real needle asking "Do you feel this pricking sensation?" I was so afraid I was going to misjudge a real prick for a sensation prick, answer his inquiry incorrectly and end up feeling Dr. Gibbs' first scalpel slice. (By the way, I'm still crying, hard, through this, randomly tossing out more "I don't want to do this" cries to Annie.)

Annie places the oxygen tubes in my nose, and starts to try to calm me down. We talked, about random things I can't remember now, and the minutes started to tick off the clock. I don't know exactly how much time had passed, but I finally questioned where Dr. Gibbs was -- and his head pops over the drape! Apparently, he'd been cutting and slicing and doing his thing (I hadn't felt a thing), and it was almost time to go in for the baby. Which was great, except Jim was still sitting out in the hallway!

One of the nurses went to get Jim, and he sat down next to my head. I think only two minutes passed, and Annie was asking me if I wanted a mirror (um, no) and if Jim wanted to watch (which he did) and before I could process what was happening, Annie said, "look to the left," and there he was.

Blue, slimy, and all four limbs askew at the most odd angles. I only had a milisecond for it to register that this was my son, and then they whisked him away to the NICU doctors. I sent Jim with Seth, and then focused all my energy on not puking. Annie said nausea is very common, and most women vomit immediately after a section. NO!!! I remember praying harder that I'd prayed all day, "Lord, please, anything, just please don't let me puke..." And I didn't. For about 90 seconds, I fought the urge to be sick, and then it passed completely.

And before I could blink again, Jim was back at my head, with Seth in his arms. What I learned later was that it took a few minutes fro Seth to take his first breath, but he did, and then scored an 8 and a 9 on his Apgar tests, so he was deemed good to go by the NICU doctors. The bundle him up, put the drops in his eyes, and sent him back to his mommy.

Not getting to hold him right away was a little disappointing. The way I was positioned on the table, Jim couldn't really even get him in close to me, and with my arms positioned as they were, I couldn't touch him. But still, I got to talk to him, and look at him, and it was a wonderful distraction from the remainder of the operation I knew was taking place on the other side of the drape.

Once I was all stitched up, things seemed to more pretty quickly. They moved me from the operating table to a gurney, and off we went to recovery. Jim got to push Seth in his isolette (I think Jim pushed him...regardless, I was happy Seth got to come with us rather than be whisked off to the NICU), and as a wonderful surprise, we found the recovery room vacant! I was the only patient, so we had total privacy.

I was introduced to my recovery nurse, and Jim went out to get our families. At this point, it was getting close to 7 pm, and we knew they had to be wondering what was going on.

The next hour is a little bit of a blur -- ah, those wonderful drugs! -- but I was coherent enough to know Jim got to introduce Seth to his grandparents in the manner in which we'd wanted. =)

Because Seth's blood sugar was low, they had to immediately give him a high calorie formula. =( Boo. I wasn't in any position to argue, nor would I have, but it was disappointing that I didn't even have the option of nursing Seth immediately. Oh well. He took the bottle just fine, and as soon as I could wiggle my toes, I was allowed to return to my "home" in the antepartum ward.

And, now, as I'm finishing typing this all up, I realize that I'm just plain done thinking about the circumstances surrounding the C-section. Being 3 weeks out from my hospital stay as I type this up, I realize I'm already in a much different place and mindset.

So, for the sake of closure, I'll do a quick recap of how the rest of my hospital stay went, and then we'll all consider the section a closed topic.

Midnight Friday, my nurse came in to help me out of bed and to stand. It wasn't nearly as bad as I expected, but it was a slow process.

6 am Saturday, again, I'm helped out of bed and walked to the bathroom. With that a success, I was able to have my catheter removed.

Saturday passed in a fog, but as the day wore on, I began to realize something was wrong. To spare you all the yucky details, I'll just say that Saturday night was the most pain-filled night of my life. No drugs were working to alleviate my pain or to help me rest.

10 am Sunday, I had a visit from my colo-rectal specialist, who performed an operation to remove a golf-ball sized blood clot. Ah....relief....short lived, but still.

The rest of Sunday and Monday were spent recovering (for me; Seth was fine this whole time). We had hopes of going home Monday, but my blood pressure were still up, and I was having complications from the second operation, so come Tuesday, we were still in the hospital.

But, at long last, at 9:30 Tuesday night, we were discharged. It felt so strange to walk out of the hospital after a 20-day stay. It was still fall when I was admitted, and I walked out to 20 degrees and 8 inches of snow!

Seth slept the whole way home -- granted, it's a 5 minute drive -- but it was a good omen for how car rides would be with him. =)

And that's that, ladies and gentlemen. I realize that I breezed through the end of that, but my little munchkin is screaming at me from his cradle, so....adieu for now!

Part II: The Labor Suite

Seth's birth day story continued...

Despite the rough night of Cervidil and numerous interruptions from my night nurse Candy, this (picture at left) is pretty much how I looked when they wheeled me from my home-away-from-home on the antepartum wing to the labor and delivery suite (L&D) on the other side of the 3rd floor. Not too shabby for 37 weeks pregnant and all drugged up, ready to push out a baby in 10 hours...But at the same time, I look at this shot, and I have to admit, I think: wow, I really look HUGE!

My nurse on the antepartum wing had attempted to remove the Cervidil, but was unsuccessful, and that was the first order of business when we got to L&D about 8:30. I knew Dr. Gibbs had wanted the Pitocin drip started as close to 8 o'clock as possible, so we were already "off schedule." But anyways....an L&D nurse was able to retrieve the Cervidil, Dr. Gibbs requested that I eat a small bowl of Cheerios to help me transition into labor, and the Pitocin drip was started to speed up my contractions.


As you can see from the additional pictures, things stayed pretty calm for a while...once our parents showed up (cameras in hand to document the events of the day), Jim set up my laptop so we could check e-mail, etc......Okay, I'll admit it: we set it up mostly so I could keep in touch with my on-line chat room"girls" (see "What I Really Do All Day" post from a couple months ago).

The nurses on the L&D wing seemed a lot more laid back than my antepartum nurses....and I have to say, this concerned me initially. I mean, c'mon: I'm trying to have a baby here. Could you maybe seem more interested in what my monitor is spewing out?


I guess this is a little unfair to them; looking back, I'm convinced that they were adequately concerned with and observant of my progress. Still, I was relieved when I learned that Dr. Gibbs had requested a midwife come in to break my water to speed things up. With my 6 o'clock deadline looming, I welcomed anything that might get things going and get Seth here faster.


Ooh....I have to insert a little sidebar here. Before the midwife came in, we had another visitor: a hospital chaplain. You may think this was either normal or strange, depending on your exposure to how hospital chaplains work. For me, I wasn't surprised, but I wasn't exactly thrilled, either. Let me explain.


I had been seeing this particular chaplain -- let's call her Marion -- for several days now. She was nice enough, and I didn't mind her company for the 10 or 15 minutes that she would visit my room. Earlier in the week, however, something happened that I never expected to backfire on me, but....it did. You may know that for the longest time, Jim and I had not named Seth....we weren't withholding his name from family and friends; we really hadn't decided. But the Sunday before his birth, Jim and I finally decided "Sprout's" name, but then, yes, decided to keep it a surprise until his birth. At one point the following week, however, in a moment of weakness and vulnerability, I shared the news with Marion, the chaplain. She asked, and although I explained that we were keeping it a surprise, she had said that she wanted to pray for the three of us by name, and I thought, "what can it hurt?" So I told her. Fast forward back to the L&D suite. So, here we all all: me, Jim, and our parents, all trying to make small talk with Marion as I'm riding out my contractions, and.....you guessed it. In response to someone commenting on how ready we all were to have the day over and for everyone to be safe and sound, Marion chimes in: "Well, of course....and you're all just so ready to meet baby Seth." I immediately went numb, then started sobbing. I had not bothered to tell Jim I'd told her; I really never gave it a second thought. But here it was: his name, out in the open, announced by a stranger. I was devastated that I'd robbed Jim of the moment of introducing his son to the world in the manner in which we'd hoped for. He quietly asked Marion to leave, and just held me. I kept saying "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over and over, and although I know he was disappointed, Jim just held me and kept saying "It's okay." I had to ask our parents to leave, I was so upset. My blood pressure was spiking, and my contractions were intensifying. The nurses came running and we had to explain what happened...it was such a mess.


Or so I thought. Come to find out -- and I don't know how this was so, other than to say there were angels in the room -- none of our parents heard her. Somehow, she blurted Seth's name, but only Jim and I heard her say it. I was so relieved -- relieved to give Jim his moment back; relieved to know that no one else in the world knew, and there was no way the beans could be spilled and further.


Okay. Back to my labor. The midwife arrived right about 10 o'clock, chipper and soothing and ready to stick me with what looked like a crocheting needle. Ugh. She wanted to check me first, just to see how much progress I'd made on the Pitocin alone in the 90 minutes it'd been flowing. As she felt around my cervix, the expression on her face became unreadable. She turned to my L&D nurse and in the most puzzled tone asked, "Is this baby breech?" I had to smile....of course he wasn't breech. We'd just had an ultrasound, and both Dr. Gibbs and the midwife who inserted the Cervidil commented on Seth's position, just the day before. Still, the midwife was convinced she felt something other than a head. A hand, maybe? I told her that must be it -- after all, how many ultrasound pictures did we have of Seth with his arms up alongside his head? But she wanted to do an ultrasound, just to make sure, as continuing an induction with a breech baby is....well, let's just say it's not a good idea.


So, they wheeled in the ultrasound cart, and after a scuffle with the machine mechanics that necessitated an additional nurse and an on-call obgyn coming in to join the party, I watched all the faces around the foot of my bed fall -- Jim, our parents, my nurses, and the midwife -- as the screen revealed that our little boy was indeed breech.

And all of a sudden, it became clear why Thursday night had been so miserable: Seth was doing incredible acrobatics in an attempt -- successful, it would seem -- to somersault himself right-side-up. The end result: an inevitable C-section.

Dr. Gibbs came by during rounds about noon. I'll never forget the look on his face as he entered the room.

"You must have an audience with God," he says. "In 21 years of practicing obstetrics, I've never had this happen."

I replied that I did not pray for a C-section -- I merely prayed that the choice to either rush a labor or operate would be clear cut.

With a rueful chuckle, he replies "Um, yeah.....laser clear." Ha, ha. Pun intended, I'm sure.

Unfortunately, because I'd had that bowl of Cheerios for breakfast, we now had to wait for my digestive system to empty before we could proceed with the delivery. Tentatively, the operation would happen at 4:30. As soon as Dr. Gibbs left, the nurses stopped the Pitocin drip -- but not quite in time. I was already in a pretty decent labor pattern. They gave me a shot of Nubaine (YUCK!!!) to help with the pain, and as soon as I started to drift off into la-la land, Jim took our parents to the cafeteria for lunch. By the time they returned, it was drawing closer to go-time, and I was working myself into a nice state of panic.

By 4:45, everyone was ready to go -- in scrubs, watching the clock. My nurse came in with the most apologetic look on her face, and explained that one of the anesthesiologists was concerned with a possible placental hemorrhage, and was requesting additional blood draws. (I knew, even in the moment, that this was necessary, but seriously?! Can I please just go have my baby!?) At this point, I'm miserable. I'm in labor, and I'm scared to death, and I began repeating what became my mantra for the next hour: "I don't want to do this. I don't want to do this."

Long story short. We wait. The phlebotomist comes in, draws the blood, rushes out. We wait. And finally, they come to get Jim and I. Except we only go about 5 feet from the room, and they tell Jim, "Daddy waits here."

HUH? Why is he not coming with me? At this point, I'm shaking, I'm sobbing, and I'm 100% convinced that there has to be some way -- other than the way we're about to do this -- to get this baby out of me....

To Be Continued...Coming Soon...Part III: The C-Section

Part 1: Induction

I didn't share the name of the Tic for privacy's sake, so neither will I share the name of the absolute best nurse I had during my stay. I give her the title of "best" as one of three contenders mainly because she hugged me when she met Seth...and she intentionally came to meet him on a night when she wasn't even my assigned nurse. Jim says, "let's call her Candy," so for the sake of anonymity, Candy she'll be.

Once the decision was made to induce, there was nothing left for me to do but wait. Wait, and start to hyperventilate, as I became more terrified by the minute of the moment Candy would come in to start my IV. I swear, I am terrified by this more than anything.

I knew my IV had to go in before 7:30, but there was no way that I was prepared to get it without Jim there to hold my hand. He had some final errands to run before coming up to the hospital, so we were cutting it close, but there were things that had to be done before Seth showed up. I can only imagine what was going through Jim's mind all Thursday afternoon and early evening, knowing that it was going to be his last night before fatherhood.

After Jim got to the room, I allowed him to finish his dinner, and then we called for Candy to start the IV. Thank God for her wonderful technique and personality. She kept me as calm as humanly possible (for me, at least, given my predisposition in this particular situation), and she got the IV placed on the first try! (Granted, she got blood everywhere, but she warned me ahead of time that she tended to make messes, so that really wasn't a big deal...not to mention I had already declared her fit for sainthood for not killing me in the IV process.)

The midwife came in right at 7:30 to insert my Cervidil. It definitely was not the most pleasant experience; I swear, she placed that thing up around my lungs! (At least it felt like that's how far she shoved it in!) She was very positive as she placed the insert, and commented on Seth's position and the "state of my uterus." Also, Candy had done a very good job explaining the side effects, risks, and common occurrences with a Cervidil induction, so I wasn't too surprised when I started to feel just plain yucky.

Once the Cervidil is placed, an expectant mom is kept on a permanent fetal monitor -- one for the baby's heart rate and one for the mom's contractions. Candy explained that there might be points in the night when , if the nurses station saw that the baby had "fallen off the monitor," she and another nurse would have to run in and wake me, telling me to move immediately in order to reposition the baby. She said this was very common, and usually just meant the baby had moved and we needed to reposition the monitor. She explained that she wasn't telling me this to freak me out, but rather, because there is no time to explain the situation to a panicking mom in the middle of the night.

I can't even tell you how many time Candy had to wake me Thursday night/Friday morning. 10? 12? Enough that when I got up at 5:30 Friday morning, I didn't feel at all rested, and I was dreading the hours to come. I knew Seth waited on the other end of the day, but as exhausted as I was at this point, I didn't feel confident in my ability to labor and deliver him by 6 pm (the deadline Dr. Gibbs had given).

Little did we know all that had occurred in the wee hours of the morning, and how it would dictate the events of the day.

To Be Continued.... Part II: The Labor Suite... coming soon (I hope)

It's go time...

Well, after months of waiting, it is time to have a baby.

One way of the other, Jim and I will be parents tomorrow.

Dr. Gibbs has decided to induce me, with no argument from this peanut gallery. I have been feeling progressively worse the last few days, and my pressures have been very unstable throughout the day.

I will be given an IV and a Cervidil suppository Thursday night between 8 and 9 pm. This will prepare my cervix for labor. Friday morning, I will be moved to a Labor & Delivery birthing suite, where the Cervidil will be removed and Pitocin will be administered. The Pitocin will start and/or intensify my contractions. I will be able to get my epidural very early in this process, so I'm not really too fearful of the whole labor thing (I'm more apprehensive about the IV tonight....that never goes well).

Dr. Gibbs said that we will know fairly quickly if the induction is working, as he does not plan to let me labor for more than 8-12 hours. If Sprout hasn't made his appearance by early afternoon, we will begin discussing a c-section.

As I'm typing this, I'm realizing how absolutely exhausted I am. Ambien is no longer working too well, and I'm running on about 4 hours of sleep....

So, I'm gonna take a nap and try to store up some strength.

I will close with this. PLEASE do not take offense to this, and know that it is NO reflection of how grateful Jim and I are for the support and love you all have shown: while we will happily announce the birth of our son as soon as we can, we are asking that once you receive word of his birth, please respect our wish for privacy while we are hospitalized. I have been told repeatedly that I will regret asking friends and family to refrain from visiting while we are still in the hospital, but this is a decision that Jim and I have made together. There is a very great chance that I will not be allowed to have visitors, and given the high-risk nature of this pregnancy and delivery, we -- and Dr. Gibbs -- feel it is best that we use the first days of Sprout's life to bond as a family and for me to recover.

Once we are home and settled, we would welcome friends and family to stop by, and celebrate with us the arrival of our son. Thank you, all, for your continued love and support. More updates to come!

I love my ultrasound chic

First of all, her name is Jillian.
sigh....I wanted Sprout to be Jillian Noelle if he'd been a she, but alas, Jim shot it down. =(

Second, she is by far the best tech in the Maternal Fetal Medicine dept. (Granted, I've only ever had two other techs down there, but she outshines them by far.)

Despite the not-so-great experience this morning with Sprout's biophysical profile (more about that in another post), I had a great time with her, talking about Thanksgiving traditions and our first years of marriage to our husbands.

And she has admitted that she has developed an attachment to Sprout. Last week, she wasn't being too profound; she was just complimenting us on Sprout's nose. She admitted to often telling patients, "Oh, s/he is going to be a cutie!" or "look at those dimples!" but that she had not seen a baby with as precious a profile as ours. She kept saying, "I really, truly believe he is going to be one handsome little guy." (Well, duh!)

Today, though, she was being a little more serious, doing a personality profile. She cracks me up. She said that Sprout is more attentive and aware of his surroundings than most of the babies she sees. And that he seems very inquisitive; it is fascinating to watch him find his umbilical cord, catch it in his hand, and try to bring it up to his face. Or if he accidentally pokes himself in the eye, it is so neat to watch him try to figure out what he's done. (I know I've been so fortunate to have so many lengthy ultrasounds, and to get to observe him like this.) Jillian also picked up on some traits that can easily be attributed to Daddy -- like the fact that she had to wake him up today using a buzzer....literally, he was so sound asleep, she had to put a buzzer probe right up next to his ear and pulse it for 5 seconds. He startled...stretched...rolled over...and went back to sleep. Hmm....I recognize that pattern. ;) Her last observation is that he may well be very independent, in the sense that he can entertain himself. Once she got him to wake up, he seemed perfectly happy to float there, play with his cord, and relax, even though he was getting prodded and poked, and all these things were going on around him. Ah....I hope that holds true postpartum. Oh, how I'd love for him to be an easy baby.

But I digress....

I know I often sing Dr. Gibbs praises, but there really have been a handful of medical professionals that have made this experience as joyful as possible, given the circumstances. Jillian is one of them, so this is a special shout out to her.

General Update

I had another good visit with Dr. Gibbs this past week....can you believe it? Two in a row! And by good, I mean good enough that I don't even need to go see him next week! I only have my urology appt with Dr. Emmert on Friday, and then I see Dr. Gibbs again on the 20th.

We went over the ultrasound results, as while Dr. Gibbs seems a little unsure that the MFS office is getting all the measurements he'd like to see, he was pleased with the results they did get. The biggest shock to me was Sprout's size. All my books pointed to him being at least 4 lbs., but alas, our babe is teeny tiny: he only weighed 3 lbs., 10 oz. at the u/s appt. BUT. Dr. Gibbs said this was well within the healthy range, and if he had it his way, Sprout will stay small (no bigger than 6-7 lbs. at delivery), which, after watching three live births in Lamaze last Monday, is more than fine with me!

I'll try to get Jim to take some better belly pictures in the next few days.....I feel like I'm growing daily now, and, if Sprout is putting on his 8-9 0z. a week like he's supposed to, I guess that would make sense! It's hard to believe the end is in sight! But I'm more excited than anything at this point....and we're even getting closer to a real name. We'll keep you all posted!

154/92..uh oh

That was my BP this morning. Hmm. That's two days in a row. I'll have to check it in the morning and call Jo if it stays up.

Angi confirmed that Sprout is indeed head down with the ultrasound this morning. His heart rate was up (158 bpm), but was behaving fairly well and letting her get measurements. I'll find out on Tuesday how his fluid levels are holding up. Jim and I are both curious to know if the gush of fluid I experienced on Saturday morning might possibly have been my water breaking? We'll see....if it was, we're still in good shape, as Sprout's head is now blocking the cervical opening again.

My appt with Dr. Sipe (not Shipe, I misspoke yesterday) wasn't quite what I expected. Apparently, she doesn't keep office hours on Tuesday, so I saw her partner, the very male Dr. Klien. He was nice and thorough, but I was bummed it wasn't the doctor Dr. Gibbs spoke so highly of. Anyway, he said he could tell I'd suffered through the worst of the attack, and would leave it up to me whether to surgically intervene or wait it out another 2 or 3 days. Ugh. I opted to wait, as my pain is down to about a 6 from the 10 it was over the weekend. He said the surgery is pretty painful (which is probably what solidified my decision.....I'd rather have medium "known" pain than any degree of "unknown" pain...I hope it was the right call).

So, that's that for Monica's medical day in review. Next week will hold a "normal" appt with Dr. Gibbs, my MFS u/s, and my renal u/s. Fun times!

Save the dates

Okay, not really, but if you're one of my "mother hens" who are tracking my appts, here is the newest batch of upcoming events:

Monday, 10/22 - weekly appt with Dr. Gibbs
Tuesday, 10/23 - u/s with Dr. Gibbs
Tuesday, 10/23 - appt with Dr. Shipes, my new colo-rectal specialist (yipee)
Tuesday, 10/30 - weekly appt with Dr. Gibbs
Wednesday, 10/31 - fetal growth scan (u/s) with Dr. Sunderji
Thursday, 11/1 - renal u/s
Monday, 11/5 - weekly appt with Dr. Gibbs
Monday, 11/12 - weekly appt with Dr. Gibbs
Friday, 11/16 - renal u/s flw up appt with Dr. Emmert (this appt will most likely determine if and/or when I will need to have an operation to place a stint in my right kidney)

Ugh. Looking at it, all spelled out like that, is sad. I love my doctors, but hate seeing them so frequently. At least there are a couple fun events on the calendar to break it up, like the start of childbirth classes, our trip to Cinci, and my baby shower.

As I told someone yesterday, the days themselves are stringing together nicely and the weeks seem to be passing quickly; it's the 18-hour days that stretch on forever......Thank God for the distraction of the Internet!

Bring on the Halloween candy!

Seriously. Give me my Baby Ruths.

Jo (my ob nurse) just gave me the great news that I passed my one-hour glucose blood screen with flying colors!!! (This test determines if I am at risk for gestational diabetes.) I absolutely expected to fail the test. Shame on me for my lack of faith, because I certainly prayed my butt off that I'd pass it.

I'm SO happy and relieved to have caught this break -- and that is exactly what it feels like: like this is the first break I've had in the pregnancy drama for a while now. Whoo-hoo!

Now I can enjoy my lunch with Melissa today and maybe even treat myself to a decaf iced mocha! Yea!

Tuesdays seem to mean drama for us...

Two weeks ago, after a long battle with a cold, I was told by my ob's office, "You need to go see your primary care physician; we think you have pneumonia." Last week, Dr. Emmert informed me of my dysfunctional kidney. Great. Today, I'm surprised by a (brace yourself) pantyliner full of blood. Not a good thing. Not a good thing at all.

So, I call Dr. Gibbs, and am rushed in for an ultrasound. Surprise! Guess who decided to rearrange himself for the first time in this pregnancy? Sprout is BREECH! (Under normal circumstance, being breech at 28w is not a big deal; in my case, it is.) Our gymnast is going to town, kicking away at my poor cervix. This could be one cause of the blood.

Option #2: we are dealing with another placental abruption. If this proves to be the case (which, basically means I will notice continued heavy bleeding), I will be admitted to the hospital and they will take Sprout via C-section ASAP.

Option #3 could be that that blood was the original clot from the abruption in July. Since Sprout has been head down and engaged in the birthing position, there was no way for the clot to pass his head and escape the uterus. Now that he is breech, and his head has unblocked my cervix, the clot may have "leaked" out. Who know? Dr. Gibbs was not able to tell much, even with an internal exam, due to the amount of blood and sensitivity of my cervix.

Dr. Gibbs recommended that I come home, rest, and pack a bag. He said that any more bleeding would most likely land my butt permanently in the hospital. (Bye, bye Thanksgiving dinner at my house. =( Boo!)

I haven't gotten around to packing that bag yet; I've been permanently afixed to the couch since coming home earlier today.

I'm tired and drained, and admittedly ready for this pregnancy to end. Jim and I are both very, very confident in the outcome of all this drama. We know that we will be blessed with a feisty, healthy son at the end of this journey, but I have to say, I'm ready to be done. This has been a scary, tiring, emotional 6 months. Thank you all for your support and prayers. We need it, and appreciate every kind word spoken and gesture done on our behalf.

I will keep this site as updated as possible as things develop in the coming days/weeks...

xoxoxo - Monica

Hydronephrosis = BOOO!

Ugh.

I'm back from my renal u/s follow-up appointment with my urologist, Dr. Emmert. (By the way, I love this man [not as much as Dr. Gibbs, but he's great!], and normally, seeing him is just a formality...not today.)

Bad news: the antibiotics I have been on for my bronchitis have caused a yeast infection. Figures. (Not that that was surprising news.) But still. I have an Rx to be filled, but it'll be a couple days before I get relief.

More bad news: my u/s from 9/21 showed that I'm still having problems with my right kidney. Again, I wasn't too surprised by this news, as I have been having some more pain, but I do feel bad that I have been "scolding" Sprout to "get off my kidney, already!!!," as Dr. Emmert is fairly certain that the problems are NOT being caused by the baby's position. (Sorry, honey; Mommy loves you.) I have another u/s in a few weeks, and of course, am to call Dr. E immediately if my pain intensifies. He is not sure if we will be able to avoid putting in a stint if the kidney continues to struggle, especially as Sprout grows. We'll see what Dr. Gibbs and Dr. Sunderji have to say about a possible operation; they weren't too keen on it in August; I doubt that has changed.

Anyway, that's my update. I'm bummed that I'm still encountering difficulties at each turn. I'm trying to be joyful, in spite of the circumstances, but today, I'm not succeeding very well. I'm going to go sit in the nursery and read to Sprout; maybe that'll give me some much-needed perspective.

It's even more perfect than I expected!

My "carrot" chair is here!!!! (Jim calls it that, and I can't argue, as that is the official fabric color.) Isn't it fabulous? (Click on the photo to enlarge -- the detail in the fabric is wonderful!)

Sprout says "thank you so much, Gramp-e and Grandma!!!!" I know that Jim and I will both spend many precious hours in this chair, feeding, rocking, reading to, and merely loving on The Nameless One.

We couldn't be happier with this final furniture addition to the room (and it will be the last piece of furniture, as you can see in the post above that the room is full with a capital F). Now for all the fun stuff -- the onesies and books and toys and blankets that will come in the next several weeks. We already feel so blessed with the layette that has lovingly been started; thanks to Jerry and Nikki for Sprout's first gifts -- they've just kept coming since then!

Want to learn about "notching"?

The correct answer is NO. (But we'll get to that in a minute.)

My appointment with Dr. Gibbs on Friday was relatively normal. Each week that I see him, I thank God for bringing me to such an incredible, sensitive physician. And he's cute and funny, too! What more could a girl ask for? But, I digress.

I have gained a total of 4 pounds during this pregnancy, and have started to be (mildly) concerned about how tiny I seem to look (although is you ask my Grandma Soldano, she'll tell you I look plenty pregnant!). But Dr. Gibbs measured my belly (nothing fancy, just a regular ol' tape measure) and said I'm on track, just carrying in such a way that I'm not "huge." My nurse, Jo, just laughed and said, "Be careful what you wish for; it'll come!"

We went over the results of my Sept. 5 u/s, and I was so happy to hear that Sprout is still "perfect." He continues to present right on track with weight, measurements, movements, position, etc. Way to go, baby boy! (Now just tell us your name, and we'll be all set!) The clot which resulted from the abruption in June is all but gone -- if not gone in its entirety, it is no longer visible, and the separation has "scabbed" over. This is still a vulnerable spot for the placenta, and of course, with its weakness comes a risk of another separation, but for now, there is no reason to anticipate that happening.

Dr. Gibbs has ordered that I continue to take the progesterone suppositories (hormones) through the remainder of this dose (8 more days) and one more refill. That will take us up to exactly 30w, at which point he said I'm free to discontinue the drug, as we'll be "ready" to welcome the baby. (Yea! That an extra $90 back in our pocket!)

Now. For the post title. I can't very well explain the complication that they found with my uterine artery when I was in the hospital last month. But I know that, unfortunately, it was not a fluke, and I am still presenting "notching" in my uterine artery scans. I have found 2 websites that (kinda) of explain the problem: one is a British site, and a little in-depth; the other is found at fetal.com (and please ignore that the article heading refers to Down Syndrome; in my case, they are not linked).

Here is the schedule of events going forward as we head into the third trimester on the 30th (happy birthday to me!):

Renal u/s - Sept 21
Dental check up - Sept 27
Flw-up with urologist - Oct 2
1-hour gestational diabetes test - Oct 2
Fetal growth u/s - Oct 3
Dr. Gibbs - Oct 12

In the meantime, I'm loving this cooler weather, although finding warmer clothes to fit over the belly bump is proving harder. Jim and I went shopping last night, and while I found a really classy shirt to wear to an alumni reception next month, the "casual" fall wear I was drawn to (at this particular store) is pricey!! I can't justify $90 for a sweater I'm only going to wear a handful of times, no matter how cute it is. Oh well. There is always Old Navy. =)

Another accomplishment of the week was the first foray into child care centers. I met with the director at two separate Children's Discovery Center locations. The one I'm most drawn to is the Franklin Park location. Not only is it close to our home, but the director was phenomenal, the staff was impressive, and the children were a true testimony of the quality of care I feel this center would offer. There would be "pros" to choosing the downtown location (namely, its proximity to my office), but I just didn't get the same vibe.....We are going to look into several other facilities, but I have a good feeling about the FP CDC, and feel blessed that the Lord opened the right door to make this decision just a little bit easier for this new momma.

It doesn't look like I'll have too many "serious" issues to update on in the next few weeks, but I'll try to keep you entertained with random entries as the mood strikes. Until next time....

Our lil guy -- 23w3d

Just a couple shots for your viewing pleasure:

Jim, in typical guys fashion, is so proud of this first shot. =) Every u/s we have confirms that we are indeed having a boy, but now we have the photo to prove it. The tech was so helpful to draw an arrow at his "parts," just in case we couldn't decipher the anatomy.



In this one, his mouth was going nuts - you could tell he was sucking/swallowing, so I'm not sure if he was aiming his fist at his mouth or what, but it was so, so sweet.


As for how the rest of the appointment went with the specialist on Wednesday.... I wasn't actually slotted to see Dr. Sundjeri, and the tech was not at liberty to go over the ultrasound results, so, I know very little more than I knew before the appointment. I did ask the technician what she had been ordered to look for, and she was able to tell me they were checking on the following: baby's weight, height, and overall measurements (all good, by the way -- he was 1 lb 5 oz); the size and or/presence of the blood clot discovered in July (we're hoping it's 100% gone); and the blood flow between the uterine artery and the placenta (I had abnormal results when I was in the hospital in early August).

The next appointment is this coming Friday (9/14) with Dr. Gibbs, and I'm hopeful for all good news.

Finally, a bump

So many of our loved ones are so far away that they will not see me much (if at all) during this pregnancy, so this is just to let them all see that I am indeed starting to look pregnant. Jim took these pictures at 22w. It's only our second "belly picture." (The other one was taken at 15w, and isn't all that impressive.) More to come as I grow!

By the way, I'm open to suggestions from other moms; I've decided to grow my hair back out, (1) for a change of pace, and (2) because I have the idea that it'll be easier once the baby comes, to be able to pull it back (not to mention that when my hair is longer, it actually looks not-half-bad fresh out of bed, whereas a shorter cut almost always needs at least some effort to look presentable). My last cut was late May, and it's taking forever!! Anyone think keeping it short is a better idea?

To get everybody up to speed...

Just a heads up -- this one will be long (which I hope is not the norm, but no promises!)

I realize that quite a bit of activity has gone on in the Gregory household since the initial e-mail went out to fill everyone in on how my pregnancy was progressing. In order to get everyone on the same page, here is an abbreviated play by play of the last month.

After we found out that I had a partial placental abruption, I was put on "modified" bed rest -- which basically meant "take it easy" and was put on progesterone supplements to help ease the pain from the mild contractions I was having, as well as to aid in keeping my incompetent cervix as long (thick) as possible. However, this ended up not being enough to keep my blood pressure stable or me comfortable enough to work, so I was ordered off work until post-delivery.

In early August, my primary obstetrician, Terry Gibbs, informed me that the abruption would most likely resolve (yea!) or rupture (boo!) in the next 2 or 3 weeks. I wanted to live in a bubble for fear that something I would do would cause the clot to grow or that I'd somehow jeopardize the safety of our son. Just days after this starling appointment, I awoke to excruciating cramps and nausea. Jim started timing the waves of pain, and after 2 hours of waiting it out (an a failed does of Vicodin), we decided it was time to go to the ER. They immediately sent us to labor and delivery, and after assuring us that the baby's heartrate was strong and stable, we began a barage of test and ultrasounds. I was admitted to the hospital on Monday, August 6 for observation and hydration and to monitor my kidney function. It was determined that all was functioning properly, but that the baby's position is forcing pressure back up into my kidneys (so move already, kiddo!). I am now under the care of a urologist in addition to my obgyn and my maternal fetal specialist. The best thing to come out of the hospital stay was the phenomonal news that the blood clot was gone, and it appeared that the abruption had resolved.

One other complication was noted during the ultrasound, which has to do with the blood flow between the uterus and placenta. Mine is irregular, which Dr. Gibbs said not to worry about, but that it's something we'll keep an eye on. If this condition stays as it is currently, my chances for pre-term labor and/or preeclampsia increase, but, as this is something was came to terms with when we were informed of the abruption, we feel somewhat prepared for that possibility.

So, there is all the technical jargon you'll hear us spout off about in the coming weeks. My next appointments are Friday, August 31 with the urologist and Dr. Gibbs, and we have our next ultrasound on Wednesday, September 5. I'll have more pictures of Sprout then (hopefully better than the ones we got at 19 weeks), but until then, I'll leave you with the adorable shot taken at just over 16w (16 weeks).

Because I don't always answer the phone...

I've been toying around with the idea of creating a blog for ease of communication with all of the wonderful people who are interested in keeping tabs on my pregnancy and the well-being of our little boy.

I love the attention and concern that comes with each "how are you? how is the baby? how was your last appointment?" call, but my poor cell phone can't always handle the frequency, and until we get a land line....this seemed like a good way to both keep you all up-to-speed and to give me something to do while I endure the next few months of bed rest.

So, welcome to our blog. =) I look forward to learning how to do this -- catching up with technology, I guess -- and keeping in touch with all of you.