Ever had one of those moments where you're convinced that you've finally figured it out and somehow, sheer mental preparation will beat whatever obstacle it is that you're up against -- only to be proven completely and utterly wrong by this hypothesis?
It's what my teenagers call an "Epic Fail." My uterus is failing me, epically, laughing all the way through my frequent warm baths, hot/cold compresses, stretches, and water chugging.
"Not so fast," it says. "I did NOT ok a giant baby in there and I am not happy."
What. A. Bitch.
Yesterday was actually not a terrible day in IU Land until about 1:30 PM. That's when the Big Kahuna tried to surf a 30-footer and failed. I knew something was just wrong. For 90+ unrelenting minutes I could barely stand, my ribs and back were on fire, and this was just not a contraction I was willing to risk so I phoned it in. Within 30 minutes, the doctor called back and I caught her up to speed on what has been happening since August 16. She said it absolutely sounded like Braxton-Hicks/Irritable Uterus and not preterm labor (yes, thank you) but that to be sure there was nothing else going on I should always plan on heading to the hospital when they get that bad. Oh, and probably this is the way my body just handles pregnancy.
Protocol is:
1. Call it in to the OB
2. Wait for her to send you to L&D.
Luckily my dad was available to drive me up to Morristown. I don't think I could have driven myself in the end. This is where I feel torn that we live two minutes from two good hospitals and 35 minutes from a great one but for my daughter, I won't settle for good, despite the inconvenience.
It always feels like a defeat to show up at L&D, knowing deep down there's no baby coming imminently, and have people make a fuss over something that of course is going to dissipate by the time you actually get there 35 min later. Same thing last week: I was on two separate monitors for a total of probably 2-3 hours and only saw minimal spikes in contractions. What I have felt every day for the past week simply does not occur at the hospital and I'm absolutely not making it up. It's frustrating as hell. I don't want to be the "lady who cried preterm labor" but now that there's written record of my IU issues, I should probably relax. No one is treating me any differently than other women who eventually get sent home from triage to wait it out. I'm taking no chances with the previa and the other hot mess of my medical history.
Luckily, the nurse last night was incredibly compassionate and thorough. She said she could absolutely trace the constant micro contractions on the monitor and that my uterus was definitely "angry about something." Her theory is that because I'm in the home stretch and the uterus is almost at capacity, it is bumping up against all of my scar tissue and that's what sets it off. Doesn't help that I have a super active baby rolling around all the time, aggravating it, but at least this doesn't seem to faze PB one bit. Add endometriosis, adenomyosis, and placenta previa into the mix and this is not your typical pregnancy. I asked if it would get worse before delivery day and she very sympathetically said, "probably." She was a wonderful cheerleader, though, urging me to come in any time I felt like I felt earlier that day. She said she's had patients who make routine visits to L&D just to get some relief for whatever it is they are experiencing and that she'd rather give me an IV of fluids every week for the next three weeks rather than have me stay home the one time it would have made all the difference to come in. Sound advice.
Did I mention Morristown has the best nurses?
So she hooked me up to the IV, ordered by my third doc who happened to be on-call last night, because for some reason, even when you're not dehydrated, the influx of fluids calms the uterus down. It seemed to take the edge off but I left the hospital with the same feeling of strong menstrual cramps that I came in with, dreading the night ahead but hoping for the best.
I was wiped by the time we got home at 8:30. I haven't been able to nap during the days recently and I'm sure as hell not sleeping at night. I dozed off around 10:00 and like clockwork, at 11:00 PM awoke to calf and back pain and a rock-hard uterus. Eff. This. Got up, did some school work, typed the first half of my final paper, read a bunch of home remedies for IU, and crawled back into bed sometime around 2:00 AM. Woke up at 4:00, could not go back to sleep so I played the left-right-center game of how many pillows can you jam under your body in various positions to get comfy. Answer: it doesn't matter!
Having educated myself about this still relatively little understood condition, I naturally have many questions for the doctor on Friday about what else I can be doing to make it through the next three weeks without totally losing my mind. I made it clear when I called the other doctor yesterday that I am not a giant wuss. I know from pain, having experienced 10 on a 1-10 scale last summer. My worst contractions are about a 7, which is significant. How do I avoid totally giving into them? Can it be avoided? How do I make sure I'm getting enough oxygen to the baby if I'm not moving around as much these days? What should I be eating/drinking to lessen the contractions at night? Also, let's pick a date. Seriously. I think having a plan in place will do wonders for my resolve getting through the remainder of this pregnancy. I can handle anything as long as I know there's an end in sight and right now, it doesn't feel that way because there's nothing on my calendar yet. This child needs a birthday!
Oh, and I learned a lot about Morristown policies regarding C-Sections from my nurse but that's another post for another day. Fascinating stuff.
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Monday, August 25, 2014
Irritable
Classify me as "irritable." My uterus, that is.
My IU has gotten progressively more pronounced in the past week. Contractions are beginning to form a consistent pattern throughout the day, though I've found that it doesn't much matter if I'm standing/sitting/lying down when they hit. This uterus does what it wants, when it wants. I can feel it tense and stay rigid until it's finished contracting. Afterward, PB squirms around and causes a ruckus to get comfy. Some days, she changes position up to 3 times and it's kind of freaky to watch my belly change shape, depending on her location.
The typical day for me begins at midnight when I awake to mild discomfort after about 90 minutes of REM. It feels like a hot bag of rocks is shifting inside and no, I'm not talking about fetal movements. The baby sleeps until about 3:30 AM so I can always tell the difference. My uterus tenses and I use the heating pad on my back to help calm it down. Getting up and walking to the bathroom sometimes helps. Some nights, I'm forced to take a middle-of-the-night tub just to get some relief which admittedly does work in the short run.
Between 3:00 and 5:30 AM, I toss and turn in my attempts to sleep. By this point, PB has typically become more active and likes to wedge her head under my rib cage making a side lying position impossible. I add more pillows (I'm up to 5-6 now, I think) to prop myself and let her kick and punch away doing morning calisthenics. When Rhett takes Oscar out between 5:30 and 6:00, I get up, take a walk around the upstairs, and try to stretch out.
The mornings usually progress with breakfast, school work (5 more days! 5 more days!) and then around 11:00 AM, the first big round of contractions begins. I'm not sure why this is but this first bout of the day comes on strong and tends to last well over an hour. I've been charting them. I'll usually take a nap around lunch time if it's too much for me. Oscar joins in and snores right by my head.
By 4:00 PM, I know to prepare to sit for a while because the second big round rolls through. Yesterday, these were terrible and didn't go away until 6:30. I had the heating pad on low for a good long while and took another bath. Then I began to search online for stories of women with similar patterns to mine. I couldn't find any close matches but did learn that it is not uncommon to get them every 10 minutes all day in varying degrees. Wow. I can't believe I've never even heard of IU before my doctor brought it up. There must be thousands of women out there thinking this is normal or that it's just Braxton Hicks but the differences are pronounced.
Finally, around 8:30-9:00 PM the third round begins but by this time, I'm nice and limber from sitting/flopping over the big yoga ball in the basement. This thing is magic. I allows me to watch TV in relative comfort with no back pain. I throw myself over it face first when the contractions start and treat it like a labor ball. There's a reason hospitals stock these because it makes a huge difference. It's like squeezing a marshmallow with your entire body and it takes the pressure off of ligaments and muscles that normally have to support your weight and the weight of the baby.
When I've determined that I've had enough SVU for the night (I think we're up to season 12 of 14?) I may or may not try for a third bath/shower and then I snuggle into bed with my gigantic tome; a biography of Ellen Terry and Henry Irving. Why? It was the biggest book I had sitting on my shelf and I felt in the mood for a little Victorian history lesson. It's a great distraction!
By 10:30, it's generally lights out and if I'm super wipes, I'll fall asleep until the "next day" begins around midnight. The cycle repeats, more or less on the same schedule, and another day goes by as we inch closer to 34 weeks.
This is where I refer you to some light reading (ha!): http://irritable-uterus.com/
My IU has gotten progressively more pronounced in the past week. Contractions are beginning to form a consistent pattern throughout the day, though I've found that it doesn't much matter if I'm standing/sitting/lying down when they hit. This uterus does what it wants, when it wants. I can feel it tense and stay rigid until it's finished contracting. Afterward, PB squirms around and causes a ruckus to get comfy. Some days, she changes position up to 3 times and it's kind of freaky to watch my belly change shape, depending on her location.
The typical day for me begins at midnight when I awake to mild discomfort after about 90 minutes of REM. It feels like a hot bag of rocks is shifting inside and no, I'm not talking about fetal movements. The baby sleeps until about 3:30 AM so I can always tell the difference. My uterus tenses and I use the heating pad on my back to help calm it down. Getting up and walking to the bathroom sometimes helps. Some nights, I'm forced to take a middle-of-the-night tub just to get some relief which admittedly does work in the short run.
Between 3:00 and 5:30 AM, I toss and turn in my attempts to sleep. By this point, PB has typically become more active and likes to wedge her head under my rib cage making a side lying position impossible. I add more pillows (I'm up to 5-6 now, I think) to prop myself and let her kick and punch away doing morning calisthenics. When Rhett takes Oscar out between 5:30 and 6:00, I get up, take a walk around the upstairs, and try to stretch out.
The mornings usually progress with breakfast, school work (5 more days! 5 more days!) and then around 11:00 AM, the first big round of contractions begins. I'm not sure why this is but this first bout of the day comes on strong and tends to last well over an hour. I've been charting them. I'll usually take a nap around lunch time if it's too much for me. Oscar joins in and snores right by my head.
By 4:00 PM, I know to prepare to sit for a while because the second big round rolls through. Yesterday, these were terrible and didn't go away until 6:30. I had the heating pad on low for a good long while and took another bath. Then I began to search online for stories of women with similar patterns to mine. I couldn't find any close matches but did learn that it is not uncommon to get them every 10 minutes all day in varying degrees. Wow. I can't believe I've never even heard of IU before my doctor brought it up. There must be thousands of women out there thinking this is normal or that it's just Braxton Hicks but the differences are pronounced.
Finally, around 8:30-9:00 PM the third round begins but by this time, I'm nice and limber from sitting/flopping over the big yoga ball in the basement. This thing is magic. I allows me to watch TV in relative comfort with no back pain. I throw myself over it face first when the contractions start and treat it like a labor ball. There's a reason hospitals stock these because it makes a huge difference. It's like squeezing a marshmallow with your entire body and it takes the pressure off of ligaments and muscles that normally have to support your weight and the weight of the baby.
When I've determined that I've had enough SVU for the night (I think we're up to season 12 of 14?) I may or may not try for a third bath/shower and then I snuggle into bed with my gigantic tome; a biography of Ellen Terry and Henry Irving. Why? It was the biggest book I had sitting on my shelf and I felt in the mood for a little Victorian history lesson. It's a great distraction!
By 10:30, it's generally lights out and if I'm super wipes, I'll fall asleep until the "next day" begins around midnight. The cycle repeats, more or less on the same schedule, and another day goes by as we inch closer to 34 weeks.
This is where I refer you to some light reading (ha!): http://irritable-uterus.com/
Thursday, August 21, 2014
Rolling in the deep
To say it's been an eventful week would be an understatement. I was going to write a post or two through the rough uncertainties but now I'm kind of glad that I couldn't bring myself to sit down an do it. Things have a way of working out in the end and our news is unchanged, if not entirely happy. What's positive is that I do NOT have placenta accreta at this time and hopefully that remains the same for the next three weeks before determining a delivery date.
Among the fun things since Sunday:
*troubling symptoms of preterm labor (everything but the gush!) -- breathtaking back pain, several contractions in an hour, increase in pelvic pressure, nausea, dizziness; you name it.
*Not one but two non-stress tests which really agitated PB, causing her to move around like a possessed Furby in my womb - it really was like that scene in "Alien" without the bursting guts.
*One concerned OB who mentioned the term "irritable uterus" for the first time. I'd laugh but it's a real thing and not so funny when you have it...
*My first fFN (fetal fibronectin test) swab - negative so no seepage of amniotic fluid
*An impromptu trip to L&D for a cervical length ultrasound (about 3 cm which is the lowest end of normal and not clinically "funneling" yet) and another check on the placenta with a specialist, just to be safe
*Two sleepless nights: one pain free and one back to Sunday night symptoms
*Total, grateful exhaustion that all is well for the moment and an excuse to take two epic tubs per day
I would put this latest episode in the PB Chronicles up there with the Week 12 SCH bleed. Talk about sprouting gray hairs on your head! Thank goodness for the Maternal-Fetal Medicine doctor who was nothing if not extremely thorough in his exam, even if he did manage to unpack a Pandora's box worth of worry. He took the time in L&D triage, surrounded by actual laboring women, to ask me all about my surgical history and this pregnancy. He was concerned enough about possible accreta to call my OB and have me set up an appointment at the MFM offices down the street just to rule it out.
So yesterday, after high anxiety and preparing for more bad news, we met the lovely ultrasound tech who showed us that our squirrely daughter had wedged not only her head but both legs over her head on my left side. She was transverse and facing my back - a first! - so no wonder I was super uncomfortable the night before. I can always tell when this kid is up to something because I am usually gasping for breath and crawling to the tub on all fours at ungodly hours of the morning. She is measuring 4 lbs 10 oz for 33 weeks (tomorrow) so she's right on target. That's a blessing. Amniotic fluid looks good and we got to see her lungs moving as she practiced her breathing.
The tech spent several quiet moments staring at the blood flow contrast to my cervix and then took images of the placenta. It was unnerving, how silent she was, but she told us the doctor (yet another new one) would be in after a moment or two to discuss. The new doctor, one of six women in the practice, said she couldn't make out any penetration of the placenta into the uterine muscle. She did note the heavy vascularity her colleague was so concerned about on Monday but ultimately said that won't affect the incision of the c-section because the cut goes up higher on the uterus and the placenta is posterior. There is still concern about loss of blood during surgery, as with any case of previa, and they want to check me again at 35 weeks to see if I need to deliver at 36 or if I can go a week or two past that.
And just like that, we could pack away our doldrums and take a breath now that we aren't dealing with a double-whammy complication. To be realistic, though, nothing has changed with my initial diagnosis of CPP. That sucker ain't budging and they are still bringing me in for weekly visits to make sure we're on track for a term delivery. Though I'm currently bleed free and not on bed rest, I definitely feel my best when I take frequent breaks, stand as little as possible so someone's head/feet/butt aren't pressing on my cervix, stretch on my yoga ball, take warm baths/showers, and generally focus on trying to get through the next two weeks of finals before maternity leave. I'd say that's enough to keep me busy before go-time.
I can deal with an irritable uterus and am so very grateful that's all it is, as annoying/irritating/par for the course as it is. I mean really, would I expect anything less from my reproductive organs? Of course they're irritable! They've been through hell and back and now have an almost 5 lb melon ball pressing on them!
I can deal with a spinning baby who loves nothing more than rolling in the deep because that, my dear daughter, is short-lived. By 34 weeks you'll be short on space and wherever you end up when that buzzer goes off is where you're stuck so pick a nice, comfy spot, baby. You'll be there for a couple of weeks and I'd love for you to have a period of rest before you're entire world bursts forth under the sterile spotlight of OR lamps and you feel your first blast of icy air on the outside. I'm sorry it's going to be slightly more traumatic than traveling down the birth canal but you'll be safe and warm once they pull you out of me and wrap you up tight. Once they stick that beanie on your head and burrito roll you, you'll hardly be able to tell the difference between your own private uterus and the new fabric womb you'll be enjoying for the first few days. I promise not to restrict your movement too much.
Among the fun things since Sunday:
*troubling symptoms of preterm labor (everything but the gush!) -- breathtaking back pain, several contractions in an hour, increase in pelvic pressure, nausea, dizziness; you name it.
*Not one but two non-stress tests which really agitated PB, causing her to move around like a possessed Furby in my womb - it really was like that scene in "Alien" without the bursting guts.
*One concerned OB who mentioned the term "irritable uterus" for the first time. I'd laugh but it's a real thing and not so funny when you have it...
*My first fFN (fetal fibronectin test) swab - negative so no seepage of amniotic fluid
*An impromptu trip to L&D for a cervical length ultrasound (about 3 cm which is the lowest end of normal and not clinically "funneling" yet) and another check on the placenta with a specialist, just to be safe
*Two sleepless nights: one pain free and one back to Sunday night symptoms
*Total, grateful exhaustion that all is well for the moment and an excuse to take two epic tubs per day
I would put this latest episode in the PB Chronicles up there with the Week 12 SCH bleed. Talk about sprouting gray hairs on your head! Thank goodness for the Maternal-Fetal Medicine doctor who was nothing if not extremely thorough in his exam, even if he did manage to unpack a Pandora's box worth of worry. He took the time in L&D triage, surrounded by actual laboring women, to ask me all about my surgical history and this pregnancy. He was concerned enough about possible accreta to call my OB and have me set up an appointment at the MFM offices down the street just to rule it out.
So yesterday, after high anxiety and preparing for more bad news, we met the lovely ultrasound tech who showed us that our squirrely daughter had wedged not only her head but both legs over her head on my left side. She was transverse and facing my back - a first! - so no wonder I was super uncomfortable the night before. I can always tell when this kid is up to something because I am usually gasping for breath and crawling to the tub on all fours at ungodly hours of the morning. She is measuring 4 lbs 10 oz for 33 weeks (tomorrow) so she's right on target. That's a blessing. Amniotic fluid looks good and we got to see her lungs moving as she practiced her breathing.
The tech spent several quiet moments staring at the blood flow contrast to my cervix and then took images of the placenta. It was unnerving, how silent she was, but she told us the doctor (yet another new one) would be in after a moment or two to discuss. The new doctor, one of six women in the practice, said she couldn't make out any penetration of the placenta into the uterine muscle. She did note the heavy vascularity her colleague was so concerned about on Monday but ultimately said that won't affect the incision of the c-section because the cut goes up higher on the uterus and the placenta is posterior. There is still concern about loss of blood during surgery, as with any case of previa, and they want to check me again at 35 weeks to see if I need to deliver at 36 or if I can go a week or two past that.
And just like that, we could pack away our doldrums and take a breath now that we aren't dealing with a double-whammy complication. To be realistic, though, nothing has changed with my initial diagnosis of CPP. That sucker ain't budging and they are still bringing me in for weekly visits to make sure we're on track for a term delivery. Though I'm currently bleed free and not on bed rest, I definitely feel my best when I take frequent breaks, stand as little as possible so someone's head/feet/butt aren't pressing on my cervix, stretch on my yoga ball, take warm baths/showers, and generally focus on trying to get through the next two weeks of finals before maternity leave. I'd say that's enough to keep me busy before go-time.
I can deal with an irritable uterus and am so very grateful that's all it is, as annoying/irritating/par for the course as it is. I mean really, would I expect anything less from my reproductive organs? Of course they're irritable! They've been through hell and back and now have an almost 5 lb melon ball pressing on them!
I can deal with a spinning baby who loves nothing more than rolling in the deep because that, my dear daughter, is short-lived. By 34 weeks you'll be short on space and wherever you end up when that buzzer goes off is where you're stuck so pick a nice, comfy spot, baby. You'll be there for a couple of weeks and I'd love for you to have a period of rest before you're entire world bursts forth under the sterile spotlight of OR lamps and you feel your first blast of icy air on the outside. I'm sorry it's going to be slightly more traumatic than traveling down the birth canal but you'll be safe and warm once they pull you out of me and wrap you up tight. Once they stick that beanie on your head and burrito roll you, you'll hardly be able to tell the difference between your own private uterus and the new fabric womb you'll be enjoying for the first few days. I promise not to restrict your movement too much.
Friday, August 15, 2014
Old hat
I've been breaking up the remaining three weeks of school work (please end soon!) with assorted "getting ready" tasks like having our cars serviced/detailed, collecting all necessary medical paperwork, finalizing my birth goals and packing hospital bags. Now that the nursery is more or less finished, I cannot be lulled into a false sense of comfort. There's so much time, so little to do! -- wait, strike that. Reverse it.
By Labor Day - the holiday, not our daughter's birthday - we should be ready to roll in the event of a Code Red. To call placenta previa unpredictable is too much of an understatement. I'm beginning to realize, following Tuesday's appointment, that this is a situation taken extremely seriously by the professionals. My OB told me that she has yet to have a previa patient make it to a full term scheduled birth without some kind of emergency intervention. Grrrrrrreat. That's why, dear zen , my days of savasana, at least as rigorously as I was doing it, are at an end. Namaste, yoga class. You've been wonderful for 5 months but now I'm supposed to cut back.
Some days I feel totally fine, almost like my non-pregnant self, and then there are days like Wednesday when I can hardly get out of bed for more than a few hours at a time. It try to explain the sensation to Rhett without sounding like a whiner. I know what it took for us to get to this point and despite my gratitude for the present situation, I do feel that I am entitled to share my emotions/thoughts on the experience of pregnancy just like any other woman. It hasn't been easy these last few weeks. I was absolutely fine until Week 30 and then it all came crashing over me as the reality of the situation hit, showing new physical symptoms that are, thankfully, temporary.
What I'm feeling is not pain in the sense of what I experienced last summer but it is uncomfortably consistent like a pebble in your shoe or an eyelash in your eye that you just cannot get out. Imagine you have swallowed a 4 pound stone and that stone is lodged in your pelvis, pressing on your bladder and threatening to push it's way out of your urethra at any moment: this is what placenta previa (with a breech baby on top!) feels like. It's like walking around with a weight between your legs that kicks and punches and bucks like a bronco against neighboring organs and causes an alarming amount of vaginal discharge. Who knew I'd be going through panty liners like I never stopped getting my period?!
I call her the Princess on the Pea (or pee?) because she is literally resting on the cushy vascular organ supplying her with oxygen and nutrients. Most babies will only occasionally bump into their placentas but this kid has a fluffy tempurpedic under her little bum and she enjoys playing with it. I read that at this stage, babies are aware of their umbilical cords and will sometimes try to flick them out of the way like a jump rope. I've definitely felt her struggling with something in there, either her fist or the cord. I think of young Indy learning to snap his bullwhip in utero. She's very strong now so that her thumps move my arm or hand off of my belly with great force. That's a good sign. As long as she stays in there for a few more weeks, I can put up with the rest of the unpleasantness.
The good thing is, when it comes to C-Day, this is not my first rodeo. My recent hospital stays for abdominal surgeries have left me feeling prepared when it comes to the packing list. Simple: eye mask, mineral spritz, toothbrush, ginger chews, nursing bras, Vaseline and wear their mesh panties/pads. Those things are so comfy. Also, pack Gas-X, colace, dulcolax and take them. Before surgery. It's going to be a struggle, the first time post-partum, but I know what's in my arsenal.
I don't think I'll have the boatload of emotions going in that first time moms who have never had surgery before have since I more or less know what to expect. If I am anxious for any reason, it is because I sincerely hope that my number one birth goal is met, barring any complications during the procedure. I want to hold my daughter in the OR. I want to feel her, still slick with fluids, on my bare chest. I carried her for 9 months and I would be extremely disappointed to be robbed of this experience just because of my complications. We'll find out more at our next appointment in terms of what is hospital procedure at Morristown v. what we can "ask" for during the birth. That is my only anxiety, that I'll be separated from my daughter during that first magical hour after birth, and I wish to avoid that, if at all possible.
By Labor Day - the holiday, not our daughter's birthday - we should be ready to roll in the event of a Code Red. To call placenta previa unpredictable is too much of an understatement. I'm beginning to realize, following Tuesday's appointment, that this is a situation taken extremely seriously by the professionals. My OB told me that she has yet to have a previa patient make it to a full term scheduled birth without some kind of emergency intervention. Grrrrrrreat. That's why, dear zen , my days of savasana, at least as rigorously as I was doing it, are at an end. Namaste, yoga class. You've been wonderful for 5 months but now I'm supposed to cut back.
Some days I feel totally fine, almost like my non-pregnant self, and then there are days like Wednesday when I can hardly get out of bed for more than a few hours at a time. It try to explain the sensation to Rhett without sounding like a whiner. I know what it took for us to get to this point and despite my gratitude for the present situation, I do feel that I am entitled to share my emotions/thoughts on the experience of pregnancy just like any other woman. It hasn't been easy these last few weeks. I was absolutely fine until Week 30 and then it all came crashing over me as the reality of the situation hit, showing new physical symptoms that are, thankfully, temporary.
What I'm feeling is not pain in the sense of what I experienced last summer but it is uncomfortably consistent like a pebble in your shoe or an eyelash in your eye that you just cannot get out. Imagine you have swallowed a 4 pound stone and that stone is lodged in your pelvis, pressing on your bladder and threatening to push it's way out of your urethra at any moment: this is what placenta previa (with a breech baby on top!) feels like. It's like walking around with a weight between your legs that kicks and punches and bucks like a bronco against neighboring organs and causes an alarming amount of vaginal discharge. Who knew I'd be going through panty liners like I never stopped getting my period?!
I call her the Princess on the Pea (or pee?) because she is literally resting on the cushy vascular organ supplying her with oxygen and nutrients. Most babies will only occasionally bump into their placentas but this kid has a fluffy tempurpedic under her little bum and she enjoys playing with it. I read that at this stage, babies are aware of their umbilical cords and will sometimes try to flick them out of the way like a jump rope. I've definitely felt her struggling with something in there, either her fist or the cord. I think of young Indy learning to snap his bullwhip in utero. She's very strong now so that her thumps move my arm or hand off of my belly with great force. That's a good sign. As long as she stays in there for a few more weeks, I can put up with the rest of the unpleasantness.
The good thing is, when it comes to C-Day, this is not my first rodeo. My recent hospital stays for abdominal surgeries have left me feeling prepared when it comes to the packing list. Simple: eye mask, mineral spritz, toothbrush, ginger chews, nursing bras, Vaseline and wear their mesh panties/pads. Those things are so comfy. Also, pack Gas-X, colace, dulcolax and take them. Before surgery. It's going to be a struggle, the first time post-partum, but I know what's in my arsenal.
I don't think I'll have the boatload of emotions going in that first time moms who have never had surgery before have since I more or less know what to expect. If I am anxious for any reason, it is because I sincerely hope that my number one birth goal is met, barring any complications during the procedure. I want to hold my daughter in the OR. I want to feel her, still slick with fluids, on my bare chest. I carried her for 9 months and I would be extremely disappointed to be robbed of this experience just because of my complications. We'll find out more at our next appointment in terms of what is hospital procedure at Morristown v. what we can "ask" for during the birth. That is my only anxiety, that I'll be separated from my daughter during that first magical hour after birth, and I wish to avoid that, if at all possible.
Thursday, August 14, 2014
Belly Bandit
Oscar has discovered my belly. I caught him staring at it in the strangest way yesterday, like he was trying to puzzle it out.
"Mummy, what's happening? Where did that thing come from?"
Hey pal, remember that time you tried to lay your head on my midsection and your sister kicked you in the face? It's aliiiiiiiive!
It was hilarious the way he was so intent on trying to decide why I don't look the same as before, as if he suddenly noticed the change overnight. He's got to know that something is going on with all the improvements to the nursery and the constant influx of packages that aren't for him, despite his initial reaction of "for ME?!" He's my faithful Amazon patrol, sniffing out the shipments and determining that yes, he'd really like to rest his head upon the new nursing pillow but he doesn't much care for the temporal thermometer. What he really wants, more than anything, is the stack of hooded baby towels but that's not happening. Just wait till he discovers diapers...
So 32 weeks tomorrow and I feel, for the most part, no different than I did last month with one major exception: sciatica's revenge. My belly hasn't grown all that much, even if PB is doing well, hiding beneath my scar, but I am definitely feeling the strain in my back on the lower left side. I did my research into all the various support bands and surgical girdle situations on the market. Luckily, I had to return the world's fuggliest nursing bras to Motherhood Maternity so I came across the Upsie Belly model of the famous brand, Belly Bandit. It's a pre and post pregnancy support belt that Velcros under your belly and has a little pouch for a freezable/microwavable pack. For now, the pack goes in the back for pain relief and after the c-section it can be reversed so that I can ice my incision. Pretty nifty! Still, I feel like I'm wearing some 19th century scaffolding under my shirt. It will take some getting used to, for sure but whatever helps, I say bring it on.
"Mummy, what's happening? Where did that thing come from?"
Hey pal, remember that time you tried to lay your head on my midsection and your sister kicked you in the face? It's aliiiiiiiive!
It was hilarious the way he was so intent on trying to decide why I don't look the same as before, as if he suddenly noticed the change overnight. He's got to know that something is going on with all the improvements to the nursery and the constant influx of packages that aren't for him, despite his initial reaction of "for ME?!" He's my faithful Amazon patrol, sniffing out the shipments and determining that yes, he'd really like to rest his head upon the new nursing pillow but he doesn't much care for the temporal thermometer. What he really wants, more than anything, is the stack of hooded baby towels but that's not happening. Just wait till he discovers diapers...
So 32 weeks tomorrow and I feel, for the most part, no different than I did last month with one major exception: sciatica's revenge. My belly hasn't grown all that much, even if PB is doing well, hiding beneath my scar, but I am definitely feeling the strain in my back on the lower left side. I did my research into all the various support bands and surgical girdle situations on the market. Luckily, I had to return the world's fuggliest nursing bras to Motherhood Maternity so I came across the Upsie Belly model of the famous brand, Belly Bandit. It's a pre and post pregnancy support belt that Velcros under your belly and has a little pouch for a freezable/microwavable pack. For now, the pack goes in the back for pain relief and after the c-section it can be reversed so that I can ice my incision. Pretty nifty! Still, I feel like I'm wearing some 19th century scaffolding under my shirt. It will take some getting used to, for sure but whatever helps, I say bring it on.
Friday, August 8, 2014
Out of the Nursery, Into the Night
I'm typing this post from our freshly decorated nursery, finding my inner peace as I relax in the glider with my feet up on the ottoman which finally (!) arrived yesterday. I honestly could not envision a more perfect retreat for our little girl that manages to be both stimulating (hello, orange wall) and soothing at the same time. You can't help but feel the calmness wash over you in this room. It is exactly the right blend of modern, whimsical and rustic and to have it 95% finished is such a huge relief at 31 weeks today. We couldn't have done it alone so a huge thanks to mom and dad for their hours of work installing curtain rods and putting up shelves and helping me cut a thousand tags off of tiny outfits.
Among my favorite features - how to choose? - are the modern spruce tree book shelf, the clean lines of the crib, the plush chevron rug that Oscar has made his new favorite lounging spot, the tree stump table with the owl lamp, the neatly organized cubbies of the the dresser, and naturally the color scheme. With the new hardwood floor and the upgraded ceiling fan, this is easily the nicest room in the house. Even the Diaper Dekor blends in seamlessly. The remaining decisions have to do with where to hang the artwork. All in all, I'd say we're just about ready for go-time so in the remaining weeks, the whole family will be able to relax in comfort knowing that it's all coming together.
Here's a preview:
Among my favorite features - how to choose? - are the modern spruce tree book shelf, the clean lines of the crib, the plush chevron rug that Oscar has made his new favorite lounging spot, the tree stump table with the owl lamp, the neatly organized cubbies of the the dresser, and naturally the color scheme. With the new hardwood floor and the upgraded ceiling fan, this is easily the nicest room in the house. Even the Diaper Dekor blends in seamlessly. The remaining decisions have to do with where to hang the artwork. All in all, I'd say we're just about ready for go-time so in the remaining weeks, the whole family will be able to relax in comfort knowing that it's all coming together.
Here's a preview:
Monday, August 4, 2014
With the birds I'll share
I actually love the Red Hot Chili Peppers, even if I don't understand their lyrics. I'm writing, of course, about "Scar Tissue" in both the literal and metaphorical sense. I know from scar tissue.
First, the literal: 30 weeks has brought with it several new symptoms that I have dodged until this moment. My 28 year-old opmhalocele scar is still a place of refuge for PB (she loves to wedge her head under it) but it has become a site of radiating discomfort for me. I've been doing a lot of reading on the issue of abdominal adhesions and pregnancy. For some women, the pain starts much earlier, around week 20 or so, but like the rest of this crazy ride, I've been lucky to put off the inevitable until much, much later.
With 7 weeks to go, I now have what feels like a permanent side stitch that won't go away, no matter what position I'm in. At first I thought, "Dear God, my abdominal muscles are finally shredding in two!" but no, no. It's not that. The pain is localized on the right side just beneath my 5 inch scar and unfortunately for me, it's unavoidable. It's a matter of very old scar tissue finally being stretched to its capacity with nowhere else to go until the adhesions tear internally, pushed out of the way by a rapidly expanding uterus. Until now, my uterus has stayed below belly button level but now that PB needs to gain 4 pounds and grow another half a foot before she's ready to be born, my grace period is o-v-e-r. Naturally, I will be asking about this condition at next week's visit but all I can do in the meantime is try to make myself as comfortable as possible.
I hadn't given much thought to this particular reality, though I was warned early on by my OB that I could have a very uncomfortable pregnancy due to my 5 previous abdominal surgeries. I'm just thankful that it hasn't been an issue before now. If the worst thing I have to deal with in the next month-and-a-half is this annoying but mostly bearable stretching, I'll take it over a massive hemorrhage or premature labor. Duh. PB won't be affected at all so that's the bright side.
Onto the metaphorical scar tissue: it is one year to the day that our first IVF cycle was cancelled. Go figure. Who knew one year later I'd be experiencing intense abdominal twinges for a happy reason? To put things in perspective for myself, I took a look through some old emails I wrote to explain to people what had happened to cancel our treatment. I remember all too well the crushing disappointment after weeks of injections with little yield. I think we got one follicle from the first cycle and it was tiny. Obviously hindsight tells us "oh yeah, there was a slight complication called a tubo-ovarian abscess and your body thought you were dying so no duh you were a poor responder." Didn't learn how serious it was until three weeks after that last RMA appointment, or that I'd need yet another surgery to correct the issue. Last summer seemed to exist in a temporal vacuum, that's how long the agony dragged on.
It was all worth it, though. Well, it will be worth it once she's here. I can't wait to have this baby. If she were fully mature, I'd gladly deliver tomorrow, that's how ready I am. Our journey to this point began two years ago in earnest so it's mind blowing to look back on the roads we've had to travel to arrive at this point in our journey. The waiting will soon come to an end, along with the temporary discomforts and irritations. There will be a whole butt-load more to come, recovering from a C-section, but hey, I've more or less been down that road before so I know bit more about what to expect than your typical patient and it doesn't scare me one bit. Seriously, 15 minutes in the OR and I get to hold my daughter? I will gladly take on another massive scar for that any day.
First, the literal: 30 weeks has brought with it several new symptoms that I have dodged until this moment. My 28 year-old opmhalocele scar is still a place of refuge for PB (she loves to wedge her head under it) but it has become a site of radiating discomfort for me. I've been doing a lot of reading on the issue of abdominal adhesions and pregnancy. For some women, the pain starts much earlier, around week 20 or so, but like the rest of this crazy ride, I've been lucky to put off the inevitable until much, much later.
With 7 weeks to go, I now have what feels like a permanent side stitch that won't go away, no matter what position I'm in. At first I thought, "Dear God, my abdominal muscles are finally shredding in two!" but no, no. It's not that. The pain is localized on the right side just beneath my 5 inch scar and unfortunately for me, it's unavoidable. It's a matter of very old scar tissue finally being stretched to its capacity with nowhere else to go until the adhesions tear internally, pushed out of the way by a rapidly expanding uterus. Until now, my uterus has stayed below belly button level but now that PB needs to gain 4 pounds and grow another half a foot before she's ready to be born, my grace period is o-v-e-r. Naturally, I will be asking about this condition at next week's visit but all I can do in the meantime is try to make myself as comfortable as possible.
I hadn't given much thought to this particular reality, though I was warned early on by my OB that I could have a very uncomfortable pregnancy due to my 5 previous abdominal surgeries. I'm just thankful that it hasn't been an issue before now. If the worst thing I have to deal with in the next month-and-a-half is this annoying but mostly bearable stretching, I'll take it over a massive hemorrhage or premature labor. Duh. PB won't be affected at all so that's the bright side.
Onto the metaphorical scar tissue: it is one year to the day that our first IVF cycle was cancelled. Go figure. Who knew one year later I'd be experiencing intense abdominal twinges for a happy reason? To put things in perspective for myself, I took a look through some old emails I wrote to explain to people what had happened to cancel our treatment. I remember all too well the crushing disappointment after weeks of injections with little yield. I think we got one follicle from the first cycle and it was tiny. Obviously hindsight tells us "oh yeah, there was a slight complication called a tubo-ovarian abscess and your body thought you were dying so no duh you were a poor responder." Didn't learn how serious it was until three weeks after that last RMA appointment, or that I'd need yet another surgery to correct the issue. Last summer seemed to exist in a temporal vacuum, that's how long the agony dragged on.
It was all worth it, though. Well, it will be worth it once she's here. I can't wait to have this baby. If she were fully mature, I'd gladly deliver tomorrow, that's how ready I am. Our journey to this point began two years ago in earnest so it's mind blowing to look back on the roads we've had to travel to arrive at this point in our journey. The waiting will soon come to an end, along with the temporary discomforts and irritations. There will be a whole butt-load more to come, recovering from a C-section, but hey, I've more or less been down that road before so I know bit more about what to expect than your typical patient and it doesn't scare me one bit. Seriously, 15 minutes in the OR and I get to hold my daughter? I will gladly take on another massive scar for that any day.
Friday, August 1, 2014
Month 8
Welcome to August! In a little over 50 days, we will be excitedly headed to the hospital to meet the Karate Kid.
Hard to believe we're looking at less than 8 weeks now. It's just enough time to get that nursery painted (cough - this week! - cough), assemble the crib, and spruce things up a bit without feeling completely harried. We got a surprise visit from our contractor while we were at our 30 week appointment on Wednesday. He stopped by to replace all of the baseboards and molding so we're 25% there. That was a nice early birthday present. The tags have been cut off the tiny outfits and most of PB's sheets have been washed in anticipation of her arrival. Really, we're set aside from purchasing a starter set of diapers and wipes.
Overall, there were no surprises at the 30 week ultrasound. Baby Girl is still breech but at the time of the scan, she seems to have unwedged her foot from my cervix, presenting in a slightly sideways Frank Breech with head to the right just under my omphalocele scar. The tech explained that the baby has another few weeks with enough room to wiggle that she'll probably oscillate back and forth but it's decidedly more comfortable for mama if she's butt down and stays that way until birth. (Trust me on this one: do NOT Google Image Search "Frank Breech" because there are some grisly images of hip dysplasia, among other complications.)
It was reassuring to speak with the tech and with Dr. Garfinkle who I haven't seen since my 13 week bleeding scare. He's refreshingly frank (get it?) about pretty much everything, freely commenting on lab results (super healthy!) and the not so pleasant realities of complete placenta previa including the chances of some truly horrendous risks before and during my C-section, though he's quick to throw out reassuring tidbits like, "but that's probably not going to happen to you." Let's hope not. Though I am nowhere near anemic, he's suggested taking iron pills now to ward off potential blood loss down the line. It's an increased risk with previa births so I'd rather err on the side of caution. I feel like an octogenarian now with my 5 pills at breakfast and 2 at night! We're looking at another ultrasound during Week 34 and then we'll set a C-section date for most likely 38 weeks around September 21. Target in sight!
It does no good to dwell on the gory details but I feel prepared to face whatever comes in the next few weeks, having educated myself as to what could happen through reading and speaking with my caregivers. In the event of a hemorrhage, I know I'm going to St. Peter's ER here in New Brunswick instead of driving up to Morristown. But that's probably not going to happen to me. For now I just keep doing what I'm doing, though I admit lugging around a 3+ pound baby is beginning to translate to constant pelvic pressure due to her position and the previa. Sometimes it feels like she might just drop out on her own and on those days, I try to take it easy. When I am on my feet all day, I definitely feel it at night. The lovely prenatal massage I had yesterday was glorious for the 50 minutes it lasted so I'm trying to hold onto some of that bliss today. The best part was the foot rub. I could use one of those on a nightly basis!
PB was out-of-control tub thumping during Star Trek: Into Darkness last night. Maybe it was all the explosions or the glut of halloumi and watermelon salad but it seems as though we have a fourth generation Trekkie on our hands. Live long and prosper, y'all.
Hard to believe we're looking at less than 8 weeks now. It's just enough time to get that nursery painted (cough - this week! - cough), assemble the crib, and spruce things up a bit without feeling completely harried. We got a surprise visit from our contractor while we were at our 30 week appointment on Wednesday. He stopped by to replace all of the baseboards and molding so we're 25% there. That was a nice early birthday present. The tags have been cut off the tiny outfits and most of PB's sheets have been washed in anticipation of her arrival. Really, we're set aside from purchasing a starter set of diapers and wipes.
Overall, there were no surprises at the 30 week ultrasound. Baby Girl is still breech but at the time of the scan, she seems to have unwedged her foot from my cervix, presenting in a slightly sideways Frank Breech with head to the right just under my omphalocele scar. The tech explained that the baby has another few weeks with enough room to wiggle that she'll probably oscillate back and forth but it's decidedly more comfortable for mama if she's butt down and stays that way until birth. (Trust me on this one: do NOT Google Image Search "Frank Breech" because there are some grisly images of hip dysplasia, among other complications.)It was reassuring to speak with the tech and with Dr. Garfinkle who I haven't seen since my 13 week bleeding scare. He's refreshingly frank (get it?) about pretty much everything, freely commenting on lab results (super healthy!) and the not so pleasant realities of complete placenta previa including the chances of some truly horrendous risks before and during my C-section, though he's quick to throw out reassuring tidbits like, "but that's probably not going to happen to you." Let's hope not. Though I am nowhere near anemic, he's suggested taking iron pills now to ward off potential blood loss down the line. It's an increased risk with previa births so I'd rather err on the side of caution. I feel like an octogenarian now with my 5 pills at breakfast and 2 at night! We're looking at another ultrasound during Week 34 and then we'll set a C-section date for most likely 38 weeks around September 21. Target in sight!
It does no good to dwell on the gory details but I feel prepared to face whatever comes in the next few weeks, having educated myself as to what could happen through reading and speaking with my caregivers. In the event of a hemorrhage, I know I'm going to St. Peter's ER here in New Brunswick instead of driving up to Morristown. But that's probably not going to happen to me. For now I just keep doing what I'm doing, though I admit lugging around a 3+ pound baby is beginning to translate to constant pelvic pressure due to her position and the previa. Sometimes it feels like she might just drop out on her own and on those days, I try to take it easy. When I am on my feet all day, I definitely feel it at night. The lovely prenatal massage I had yesterday was glorious for the 50 minutes it lasted so I'm trying to hold onto some of that bliss today. The best part was the foot rub. I could use one of those on a nightly basis!
PB was out-of-control tub thumping during Star Trek: Into Darkness last night. Maybe it was all the explosions or the glut of halloumi and watermelon salad but it seems as though we have a fourth generation Trekkie on our hands. Live long and prosper, y'all.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)