Ok, 1 day shy. And all the big things seem to be well:
- I'm gaining a decent amount of weight, but surprisingly not too much
- My midwife is happy, not that I've seen her in person since Week 14, but details ... (humorously, I failed to tell Dr. Incompetent in City X I was moving. Nobody from the office has called to schedule another appointment or ask what's going on. Not that I'm surprised).
- No spotting, cramping, etc.
- For that matter, practically no p-symptoms at all, except for one new one. [As for my new p-symptom, well, it's psychosomatic but it's pretty awful: I have an exercise-induced UTI. My bladder can hold practically any amount of water overnight (almost 2 liters yesterday night, I was worried that I was a bit dehydrated) or while sitting through a meal. Or driving. But the moment I start walking I have to pee. Like every 20 minutes. 4 times in one museum. Two emergency-dashes into office buildings in a 45 minute walk. It is truly absurd.]
And, I'm pretty sure, at least 3-4 good hardy kicks this week. All on one day. Verified by JD.
Which leaves me in a rather puzzling situation. Now that I am (clearly) showing, people like to ask about the baby. Does she 'like' hiking? Or ice cream? I don't usually lie about little things for no reason, but every time I admit that I have no idea because I have only felt the baby move once I get the most concerned looks, and it freaks me out. Drs. Google suggest it is ok to not feel 'much' movement at this point, but everyone else seems to. I'm trying not to worry and I'll have another dopplering on Sept. 8th and insist on a growth scan at that point if there's been no dramatic improvement, but at this point it's just terrifying to think that I am at the cusp of viability and might be losing the baby.
Since the beginning I have been panicking about little things which turned out to be fine. I have in fact had a completely healthy, uneventful pregnancy. For goodness sakes, I went hiking today for about 4 hours in the Utah sun and felt great afterwards. It's just that I kept promising myself I didn't need to rent a doppler because I'd be feeling movement any day now. And to realize I'm at 24 weeks and definitely nothing close to daily movement, let alone every 3-4 days is scary. I'm going to try and enjoy the last week of our vacation and ignore these looming thoughts because I know there's still not much that could be done to intervene at this point. And JD keeps telling me that everything else has worked out and I should just trust my body, and his judgment is usually better than mine ... but why can't I find a decent online article which would assure me that women with posterior placentas can have healthy, normal babies they just never feel?
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
I was onboard with the DNC
Between the rain and several flights in the past few days I've seen quite a bit of TV coverage of the DNC and it seemed well-run and enthusiastic and mostly on-point (Bill Clinton's speech was fabulous today) ... until I looked at the newscast and saw "Live: Stay-at-home Mom." CNN's formal subtitle.
I thought it was a joke so I went to the DNC webpage. Nope. Beth Robinson, a stay at home mother, spoke after Bill Clinton. If you google her, it seems like she's a military wife, volunteer, mother, person living with disabilities - all sorts of interesting, relevant things. In fact, you can read her full comments online. They're pretty uninteresting, but certainly not focused on her employment status. They are about the challenges of military life. But nope, our DNC formally listed her exclusively as a stay at home mother. (Can you even imagine them doing that for a man? Next up: A working father.) Ugh.
I thought it was a joke so I went to the DNC webpage. Nope. Beth Robinson, a stay at home mother, spoke after Bill Clinton. If you google her, it seems like she's a military wife, volunteer, mother, person living with disabilities - all sorts of interesting, relevant things. In fact, you can read her full comments online. They're pretty uninteresting, but certainly not focused on her employment status. They are about the challenges of military life. But nope, our DNC formally listed her exclusively as a stay at home mother. (Can you even imagine them doing that for a man? Next up: A working father.) Ugh.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
23 weeks 2 dpo and ... maybe, a kick!
Having made it well past 23 weeks without any clear kicking/movement and having been told since week 18 by various medical professionals that it would -this week- I had 2 scenarios in my mind tonight:
a. Something is terribly wrong. My last ultrasound was at 16 weeks. It has been way too easy to control my weight gain (something that has never been easy in my life). Clearly there was some type of restricted growth going on (or worse) and I should plan on spending Sunday morning (when I hit the doomed 24 weeks Drs. Google suggest as the -very last point- to feel movement) in an ER in Utah getting scanned ...
or
b. I am not yet an earth mother in touch with my body and I have been too tired/stressed/busy/distracted to notice any movement. Oh, and I also fall asleep within about 5 minutes (seriously) of getting into bed so maybe I'm just sleeping through it (did I mention we're traveling? And even when not hiking I think we spent at least 4 hours yesterday and today walking plus a trip to the pool to swim laps ...). But this option just does not bode well for trusting my body.
But what could possibly confirm my failure as a gestating mother more than having JD feel the kicking at the same time as me? Or notice it before me?
So, just about exactly 23 weeks, 2 days and 2.5 hours post-ovulation, sometime shortly after customs had cleared us to reenter the U.S. aboard the Vancouver-Seattle evening Amtrak, I thought I felt something. And JD, being bored, put his hand on my stomach to check. Which is to say within about 5 minutes of noticing something weird going on in my stomach JD confirmed that it felt like kicking.
So, dear loyal readers, is that possible? Could I really have not noticed anything until now and is it feasible that JD would be able to feel movement at the same time as I first feel it? It was also quite high up - almost belly button level? Is that possible?
Excited, embarrassed, and greatly relieved that there still appears to be something going on in there.
ps - If you haven't read my post from yesterday and are catching up on blogs quickly, please consider glancing at it.
a. Something is terribly wrong. My last ultrasound was at 16 weeks. It has been way too easy to control my weight gain (something that has never been easy in my life). Clearly there was some type of restricted growth going on (or worse) and I should plan on spending Sunday morning (when I hit the doomed 24 weeks Drs. Google suggest as the -very last point- to feel movement) in an ER in Utah getting scanned ...
or
b. I am not yet an earth mother in touch with my body and I have been too tired/stressed/busy/distracted to notice any movement. Oh, and I also fall asleep within about 5 minutes (seriously) of getting into bed so maybe I'm just sleeping through it (did I mention we're traveling? And even when not hiking I think we spent at least 4 hours yesterday and today walking plus a trip to the pool to swim laps ...). But this option just does not bode well for trusting my body.
But what could possibly confirm my failure as a gestating mother more than having JD feel the kicking at the same time as me? Or notice it before me?
So, just about exactly 23 weeks, 2 days and 2.5 hours post-ovulation, sometime shortly after customs had cleared us to reenter the U.S. aboard the Vancouver-Seattle evening Amtrak, I thought I felt something. And JD, being bored, put his hand on my stomach to check. Which is to say within about 5 minutes of noticing something weird going on in my stomach JD confirmed that it felt like kicking.
So, dear loyal readers, is that possible? Could I really have not noticed anything until now and is it feasible that JD would be able to feel movement at the same time as I first feel it? It was also quite high up - almost belly button level? Is that possible?
Excited, embarrassed, and greatly relieved that there still appears to be something going on in there.
ps - If you haven't read my post from yesterday and are catching up on blogs quickly, please consider glancing at it.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Two Cultures
JD and I got back to our apartment in time to watch the closing Olympic ceremonies, and one thing that stuck out was the audible skepticism of the reporters on the 'genuineness' of the Chinese spectator's enthusiasm. And for some reason it struck a chord (perhaps because it was also echoed in a rather nasty-toned op-ed in the local newspaper this morning about the Chinese Olympics). I understand the criticism of China and I'm not sure the reporters were wrong in their comments, it just started me thinking ...
My long-time readers may realize that JD and I are from very different backgrounds, but I was careful in my first few months of blogging not to talk to much about his family background. JD is from China and he was raised there until the age of 11. Of course, there's nothing wrong with that and it makes for very interesting conversation, except that I am from a threatened religious community which is deeply opposed to 'marrying out' of the faith, and since I did so rather recently and had to answer a number of very nasty attacks in person, I did not want to also open myself up to such a discussion in the internets. But the closer we get to D-Day, the more I want to think about raising a biracial child in America and about how very different our childhoods were.
The other thing is that JD is avowedly American. You'd never guess he was raised abroad. Although we don't remember how we met, I do remember that many of our first hours together were spent in the 'writing center' at our college where JD worked as a rare freshman hire tutoring those of us who had yet to learn to write.* He has no accent and a much better vocabulary than me. He went to a well-recognized high school in NYC, followed by 2 excellent universities. He loves baseball and hot dogs and beer much, much more than I ever will. His family has a much more enthusiastic Thanksgiving than mine, and JD has been volunteering for local political campaigns for years. And of course, I'm a first generation American raised by immigrants in the South so I definitely missed some Americana in my youth. Which is what makes the moments of disjuncture when JD reveals he was raised in a completely different culture so surprising.
We went for a swim this afternoon and after I beat JD twice to the end of the lane, I made some comment about his crawl stroke. And he gave me a puzzled look and told me he'd never taken swim lessons. I'd never asked, I just assumed he had, but of course the moment he said it I realized what an idiot I was to assume that a poor family in rural China would have had access to an unpolluted pond or a pool.
I've also been thinking about my tone in terms of JD's questions about child-rearing. [But first, for posterity, JD and I walked past a baby in a bassinet stroller with a blanket over top. He gives me a puzzled look and later asks "if you cover a baby up like that, will it go to sleep?" Works for parakeets, but I'm not sure it works for babies ... ]. The thing is that I was raised in a community with lots of children. Because of his parent's ambitions for him and visa and immigration issues, JD was raised by his elderly grandparents. This means that there were no other little children in his social circle until he got to school, and no little siblings because of the one child policy. So JD isn't clueless about babies because he was disinterested but because he has very rarely been in an environment where there are little children around to interact with.
I don't think we will have any large conflicts about child-rearing because of our backgrounds, but there are all sorts of things that I take for granted. For example, JD has read no American/British children's literature. He's never heard of Curious George or Padington. He's never been to swim lessons (for the record, I could swim before I could walk because of my prodigious size). He has no experience with American preschools or kindergarten or even the different systems we use here to teach children to read (yesterday he asked me my stance on phonics. Um, no idea). I want us both to contribute equally to parenting (at least in terms of decision-making even if it's not possible to do so in terms of hours because of our wage differential) and I need to think about how to make sure that the practices that I grew up with and take for granted do not take over our house. I don't have any clear thoughts on how to achieve this, but I certainly wanted to explain my characterization of JD's cluelessness and to start to think about the decisions we will have to make in the future (even if we don't have to decide about reading strategies just yet).
* And when he asked me out freshman year, I obviously refused being fully committed to marrying within my faith. I do not plan to post here exactly about how we worked out those differences, except to say that it took us four years to go on our first date because we were talking about the relevant issues. JD was raised without religion. We have a kosher, observant Jewish household and JD is fully committed to raising Jewish children. That means that he will be a full participant in all of my family's traditions because I think it is much harder to give children a strong sense of religious identity when they see ideological tension within their own homes.
My long-time readers may realize that JD and I are from very different backgrounds, but I was careful in my first few months of blogging not to talk to much about his family background. JD is from China and he was raised there until the age of 11. Of course, there's nothing wrong with that and it makes for very interesting conversation, except that I am from a threatened religious community which is deeply opposed to 'marrying out' of the faith, and since I did so rather recently and had to answer a number of very nasty attacks in person, I did not want to also open myself up to such a discussion in the internets. But the closer we get to D-Day, the more I want to think about raising a biracial child in America and about how very different our childhoods were.
The other thing is that JD is avowedly American. You'd never guess he was raised abroad. Although we don't remember how we met, I do remember that many of our first hours together were spent in the 'writing center' at our college where JD worked as a rare freshman hire tutoring those of us who had yet to learn to write.* He has no accent and a much better vocabulary than me. He went to a well-recognized high school in NYC, followed by 2 excellent universities. He loves baseball and hot dogs and beer much, much more than I ever will. His family has a much more enthusiastic Thanksgiving than mine, and JD has been volunteering for local political campaigns for years. And of course, I'm a first generation American raised by immigrants in the South so I definitely missed some Americana in my youth. Which is what makes the moments of disjuncture when JD reveals he was raised in a completely different culture so surprising.
We went for a swim this afternoon and after I beat JD twice to the end of the lane, I made some comment about his crawl stroke. And he gave me a puzzled look and told me he'd never taken swim lessons. I'd never asked, I just assumed he had, but of course the moment he said it I realized what an idiot I was to assume that a poor family in rural China would have had access to an unpolluted pond or a pool.
I've also been thinking about my tone in terms of JD's questions about child-rearing. [But first, for posterity, JD and I walked past a baby in a bassinet stroller with a blanket over top. He gives me a puzzled look and later asks "if you cover a baby up like that, will it go to sleep?" Works for parakeets, but I'm not sure it works for babies ... ]. The thing is that I was raised in a community with lots of children. Because of his parent's ambitions for him and visa and immigration issues, JD was raised by his elderly grandparents. This means that there were no other little children in his social circle until he got to school, and no little siblings because of the one child policy. So JD isn't clueless about babies because he was disinterested but because he has very rarely been in an environment where there are little children around to interact with.
I don't think we will have any large conflicts about child-rearing because of our backgrounds, but there are all sorts of things that I take for granted. For example, JD has read no American/British children's literature. He's never heard of Curious George or Padington. He's never been to swim lessons (for the record, I could swim before I could walk because of my prodigious size). He has no experience with American preschools or kindergarten or even the different systems we use here to teach children to read (yesterday he asked me my stance on phonics. Um, no idea). I want us both to contribute equally to parenting (at least in terms of decision-making even if it's not possible to do so in terms of hours because of our wage differential) and I need to think about how to make sure that the practices that I grew up with and take for granted do not take over our house. I don't have any clear thoughts on how to achieve this, but I certainly wanted to explain my characterization of JD's cluelessness and to start to think about the decisions we will have to make in the future (even if we don't have to decide about reading strategies just yet).
* And when he asked me out freshman year, I obviously refused being fully committed to marrying within my faith. I do not plan to post here exactly about how we worked out those differences, except to say that it took us four years to go on our first date because we were talking about the relevant issues. JD was raised without religion. We have a kosher, observant Jewish household and JD is fully committed to raising Jewish children. That means that he will be a full participant in all of my family's traditions because I think it is much harder to give children a strong sense of religious identity when they see ideological tension within their own homes.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
thoughts on travel
I have only 2 complaints about travel in Canada in this very delicate condition of mine (did I ever mention how much the motherhood maternity saleswoman laughed at me when I said I was looking for hiking pants? and they had to cover my ankles because of snakes in utah?). Neither is particularly serious, but both are still a bit annoying:
1. Listeria. In case you didn't know, the regulation of unpasteurized dairy products is state jurisdiction in the U.S. In some states it's legal to sell and serve in restaurants unpasteurized milk and soft cheeses (NC, for example). In others, totally illegal (WA, for example). Which means you have to ask when you travel, but everyone knows what you're talking about. Here in Canada (specifically Alberta and B.C.), not so much. In fact, one new father and 2 pregnant women told me they'd never heard of listeria or any danger from eating soft cheeses while pregnant. And yes, far more cheeses here are unpasteurized (like feta, which I've never, ever seen unpasteurized in the U.S. Please don't think I'm always obsessive, I have to read labels very carefully because I keep kosher but will eat dairy products out). Fine. It makes sense that this very rare condition which only affects the immuno-suppressed and pregnant women doesn't exist unless you know to worry about it. Chalk one up for the foreigners on having calm, relaxed pregnancies.
And JD basically told me to stop harrassing clueless waiters and just give up on eating cheese while traveling in Canada. Except, I already don't eat meat when traveling (dun-dun ... foreshadowing). Yes, I'm a fussy eater in restaurants because of all my food restrictions (between the religious ones, obsessive pregnancy ones, oh, and the GI problems) but I love eating and I'm very appreciative when people get me real information and I always place a back-up order so the wait staff can just put that in if they're too busy/unconcerned to check (i.e. I'll have the cheese sandwich if the cheese is pasteurized, but if you're not sure or it's not just give me bread with lettuce ...)
So, we're driving along the highway listening to the local news and what should be on it: an outbreak of listeria in several different provinces of Canada. Suspected source: deli meats. Sigh of relief from JD.
2. Bathrooms. I have no shame running into restaurants I have never eaten at to pee. Or stopping on the side of the highway when there are no rest areas. But both options are exceedingly hard to really on while traveling. And I am yet again amazed by how few public restrooms/how not understanding people are. 2 small examples from today.
a. We're about to get on a 3 hour bus ride when I hear the bus driver mention the bathrooms will be locked during the ride. So I ask if he can unlock them (i.e. are they broken - no?). He says maybe, but the rather belligerent ticket sales woman tells me to go to the bathroom in the bus depot. I assure her I have done so, but still will need another bathroom in the next 3 hours. She repeats slightly louder to go to the bathroom in the bus depot. I glower. She informs me that using the bus while in motion can be "inconvenient." I glower and do not inform her that as a former resident of a house without running world (in the developing world) and a veteran of years of greyhound bus trips (remember, that's how we started this trip for nostalgic reasons) I can pee on a moving bus. Instead, I politely inquire if they can unlock the bathroom door or plan a stop. She tells me to run inside and she'll have the bus wait (I have just been to the bathroom). JD arrives just as I loudly exclaim in her direction "I'm pregnant. I can't hold it for 3 hours. You will either have to unlock the door or make a stop." He yet again asks why I can't be calmer/politer/more ladylike in public ...
b. Fast forward 12+ hours. Going to a small, fringe theater performance in a different city. They are keeping everyone waiting outside until they open the house, so I ask if I can sneak in to use the bathroom. The woman at the door informs me there isn't an unlocked bathroom in the building. Um, what??? It's a show. In a weird, empty neighborhood. It's not terribly long, but long enough. ???? So JD escorts me across a divided highway to a rather grimy McDonalds where ... you have to ring a bell for the manager to come unlock the bathroom. Seriously. I took a photo of the sign by the bathroom but can't get it to load at the moment.
And back to JD's newfound confidence in this whole proposition, yesterday he asked me about different theories of parenting so I very poorly summarized attachment parenting, ferberizing, the differences between how he was raised and 'standard' American practice ... We have talked about these issues a lot before, but never in terms of the specific, never in terms of what we should actually do. But apparently he's thinking it through ... 'cause today we're standing in line someplace and the woman in front of us hands her adorable little girl a full apple juice. JD waits until they are out of earshot to ask if I plan to let our daughter drink apple juice? Yes, we've apparently resolved all of our future sleep/food/swaddling/language issues and we're on to whether toddlers should drink sugary drinks ... so, anybody have any suggestions on what to give JD to read? I have yet to pick up a parenting book I like, although I'm sure that I will stock a shelf of them in case of emergency (someday I'll write about how my mother would pull down her secret cookbook and make up cures to our aches and pains ... the placebo effect got me through most of my childhood bruises ...) but I want JD to be a full participant in making these decisions, which means he needs some basic information on the different options. I honestly don't have any strong thoughts on different parenting styles, perhaps because it all seems so far in the distance, but also because in 15 years of babysitting I have seen parents break every fundamental rule in every book and they all raised interesting, well-adjusted, healthy children.
1. Listeria. In case you didn't know, the regulation of unpasteurized dairy products is state jurisdiction in the U.S. In some states it's legal to sell and serve in restaurants unpasteurized milk and soft cheeses (NC, for example). In others, totally illegal (WA, for example). Which means you have to ask when you travel, but everyone knows what you're talking about. Here in Canada (specifically Alberta and B.C.), not so much. In fact, one new father and 2 pregnant women told me they'd never heard of listeria or any danger from eating soft cheeses while pregnant. And yes, far more cheeses here are unpasteurized (like feta, which I've never, ever seen unpasteurized in the U.S. Please don't think I'm always obsessive, I have to read labels very carefully because I keep kosher but will eat dairy products out). Fine. It makes sense that this very rare condition which only affects the immuno-suppressed and pregnant women doesn't exist unless you know to worry about it. Chalk one up for the foreigners on having calm, relaxed pregnancies.
And JD basically told me to stop harrassing clueless waiters and just give up on eating cheese while traveling in Canada. Except, I already don't eat meat when traveling (dun-dun ... foreshadowing). Yes, I'm a fussy eater in restaurants because of all my food restrictions (between the religious ones, obsessive pregnancy ones, oh, and the GI problems) but I love eating and I'm very appreciative when people get me real information and I always place a back-up order so the wait staff can just put that in if they're too busy/unconcerned to check (i.e. I'll have the cheese sandwich if the cheese is pasteurized, but if you're not sure or it's not just give me bread with lettuce ...)
So, we're driving along the highway listening to the local news and what should be on it: an outbreak of listeria in several different provinces of Canada. Suspected source: deli meats. Sigh of relief from JD.
2. Bathrooms. I have no shame running into restaurants I have never eaten at to pee. Or stopping on the side of the highway when there are no rest areas. But both options are exceedingly hard to really on while traveling. And I am yet again amazed by how few public restrooms/how not understanding people are. 2 small examples from today.
a. We're about to get on a 3 hour bus ride when I hear the bus driver mention the bathrooms will be locked during the ride. So I ask if he can unlock them (i.e. are they broken - no?). He says maybe, but the rather belligerent ticket sales woman tells me to go to the bathroom in the bus depot. I assure her I have done so, but still will need another bathroom in the next 3 hours. She repeats slightly louder to go to the bathroom in the bus depot. I glower. She informs me that using the bus while in motion can be "inconvenient." I glower and do not inform her that as a former resident of a house without running world (in the developing world) and a veteran of years of greyhound bus trips (remember, that's how we started this trip for nostalgic reasons) I can pee on a moving bus. Instead, I politely inquire if they can unlock the bathroom door or plan a stop. She tells me to run inside and she'll have the bus wait (I have just been to the bathroom). JD arrives just as I loudly exclaim in her direction "I'm pregnant. I can't hold it for 3 hours. You will either have to unlock the door or make a stop." He yet again asks why I can't be calmer/politer/more ladylike in public ...
b. Fast forward 12+ hours. Going to a small, fringe theater performance in a different city. They are keeping everyone waiting outside until they open the house, so I ask if I can sneak in to use the bathroom. The woman at the door informs me there isn't an unlocked bathroom in the building. Um, what??? It's a show. In a weird, empty neighborhood. It's not terribly long, but long enough. ???? So JD escorts me across a divided highway to a rather grimy McDonalds where ... you have to ring a bell for the manager to come unlock the bathroom. Seriously. I took a photo of the sign by the bathroom but can't get it to load at the moment.
And back to JD's newfound confidence in this whole proposition, yesterday he asked me about different theories of parenting so I very poorly summarized attachment parenting, ferberizing, the differences between how he was raised and 'standard' American practice ... We have talked about these issues a lot before, but never in terms of the specific, never in terms of what we should actually do. But apparently he's thinking it through ... 'cause today we're standing in line someplace and the woman in front of us hands her adorable little girl a full apple juice. JD waits until they are out of earshot to ask if I plan to let our daughter drink apple juice? Yes, we've apparently resolved all of our future sleep/food/swaddling/language issues and we're on to whether toddlers should drink sugary drinks ... so, anybody have any suggestions on what to give JD to read? I have yet to pick up a parenting book I like, although I'm sure that I will stock a shelf of them in case of emergency (someday I'll write about how my mother would pull down her secret cookbook and make up cures to our aches and pains ... the placebo effect got me through most of my childhood bruises ...) but I want JD to be a full participant in making these decisions, which means he needs some basic information on the different options. I honestly don't have any strong thoughts on different parenting styles, perhaps because it all seems so far in the distance, but also because in 15 years of babysitting I have seen parents break every fundamental rule in every book and they all raised interesting, well-adjusted, healthy children.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Contented Musings
* Disclaimer: Please don't read this if you are not in the mood for happy glowing.*
In part because I still feel like this pregnancy is tenuous* I want to record all the happy moments I've had in the past few days. I'm still stressed about school and nervous about things going wrong, but JD and I have been having a really great time together and I hadn't realized how much we had put off just enjoying this phase of our lives.
I also hadn't realized how much infertility had been a burden hanging over us for years. As I wrote in my initial sidebar introduction when starting this blog, I was diagnosed with infertility at a very young age. And JD and I were friends for a number of years before we started dating. In fact, it was the night before our college graduation that we went out to lie in the woods and watch the stars (very, very chastely I regret to inform you) and I confessed my two greatest fears for JD in terms of our relationship. The first I haven't written about here, but in short, I have a long family history of depression and when suffering from a bout of depression in high school I did some very dumb things. I wanted JD to know that. And I wanted him to know that I was infertile. Before our first date. We had been good friends for a long time and I didn't want to start dating without being upfront about my particular issues.
Of course we talked about these things very minimally the first couple of years we dated, although conversations with my sister brought the issues up as did my quarterly endocrin appointments. And I guess I never fully realized how much they had affected him until we started treatments. I wrote in the past about JD's lack of interest in reading medical articles or exploring our different options, but I'm not sure if I wrote about how unsure I was about his enthusiasim for this whole project (at this particular moment). He never talked about wanting kids or showed interest in other people's babies, and I realize now that that was all defense.
Since we left on our honeymoon, JD has been laughing and waving at cute babies. He's been pointing out different strollers and slings and asking all sorts of questions about what we plan to do in terms of parenting. We might just have chosen a name. He kissed my belly unprovoked for the very first time yesterday while he was waiting for coffee.
And for all that it's possible to create the (obviously false) illusion that I now have a double chin and that my minimally toned arms actually have about 2 inches of flab hanging on them (already!), I love this weight gain and I love having a visible bump. I'm not exactly sure why I would rub it (no itchiness, no stretch marks, no hair growth, nada) except to make sure other people noticed, I love being able to look down and know that something is going on in there.
I have always wanted children, but it would be a lie so say that I wasn't worried about having a 'third wheel' along on all of our future travels and dinner plans. Especially since we haven't had so much time as a couple with our crazy schedules and commutes. But I love realizing that it's no longer the two of us. We're already 2.5, hopefully to be 3 by the end of this year. And I feel comforted every time I realize that our little fetus is along for the ride. And on that note, photos from the trip (including the bump):
The view from our canoe:
More views:
The wonderbaby sees her first (and hopefully not last) glacier:
The bump in full glory (yes, I know it's immodest but I'm finally enjoying my curves).
Um, and that's only 22.5 weeks. I think it's a good thing I haven't passed a scale on this trip ...
*yup, no movement yet. And a few other little concerning things like I realized that I am sleeping through the night without a problem, even when I chugged a liter of water right before bedtime. Makes you wonder how big this insider is.
In part because I still feel like this pregnancy is tenuous* I want to record all the happy moments I've had in the past few days. I'm still stressed about school and nervous about things going wrong, but JD and I have been having a really great time together and I hadn't realized how much we had put off just enjoying this phase of our lives.
I also hadn't realized how much infertility had been a burden hanging over us for years. As I wrote in my initial sidebar introduction when starting this blog, I was diagnosed with infertility at a very young age. And JD and I were friends for a number of years before we started dating. In fact, it was the night before our college graduation that we went out to lie in the woods and watch the stars (very, very chastely I regret to inform you) and I confessed my two greatest fears for JD in terms of our relationship. The first I haven't written about here, but in short, I have a long family history of depression and when suffering from a bout of depression in high school I did some very dumb things. I wanted JD to know that. And I wanted him to know that I was infertile. Before our first date. We had been good friends for a long time and I didn't want to start dating without being upfront about my particular issues.
Of course we talked about these things very minimally the first couple of years we dated, although conversations with my sister brought the issues up as did my quarterly endocrin appointments. And I guess I never fully realized how much they had affected him until we started treatments. I wrote in the past about JD's lack of interest in reading medical articles or exploring our different options, but I'm not sure if I wrote about how unsure I was about his enthusiasim for this whole project (at this particular moment). He never talked about wanting kids or showed interest in other people's babies, and I realize now that that was all defense.
Since we left on our honeymoon, JD has been laughing and waving at cute babies. He's been pointing out different strollers and slings and asking all sorts of questions about what we plan to do in terms of parenting. We might just have chosen a name. He kissed my belly unprovoked for the very first time yesterday while he was waiting for coffee.
And for all that it's possible to create the (obviously false) illusion that I now have a double chin and that my minimally toned arms actually have about 2 inches of flab hanging on them (already!), I love this weight gain and I love having a visible bump. I'm not exactly sure why I would rub it (no itchiness, no stretch marks, no hair growth, nada) except to make sure other people noticed, I love being able to look down and know that something is going on in there.
I have always wanted children, but it would be a lie so say that I wasn't worried about having a 'third wheel' along on all of our future travels and dinner plans. Especially since we haven't had so much time as a couple with our crazy schedules and commutes. But I love realizing that it's no longer the two of us. We're already 2.5, hopefully to be 3 by the end of this year. And I feel comforted every time I realize that our little fetus is along for the ride. And on that note, photos from the trip (including the bump):
The view from our canoe:
More views:
The wonderbaby sees her first (and hopefully not last) glacier:
The bump in full glory (yes, I know it's immodest but I'm finally enjoying my curves).
Um, and that's only 22.5 weeks. I think it's a good thing I haven't passed a scale on this trip ...*yup, no movement yet. And a few other little concerning things like I realized that I am sleeping through the night without a problem, even when I chugged a liter of water right before bedtime. Makes you wonder how big this insider is.
Monday, August 18, 2008
All's well
All's well in vacation-land. I will definitely post photos next time we have internet access.
Still no clear movement. I keep reading that early kicks can feel like 'indigestion' but I think this means a clear pain, etc. not just a stomachache, of which I've had plenty. At least I hope my daughter doesn't feel like a stomachache ...
JD this morning added to his fine repertoire of comments 'admiring my new figure' as he would put it. As I was getting dressed he looks up, smiles and says "Wow, you've got an underbelly."
I forgot to post my best good news last week because it arrived so very late ... as I was going through security at Logan airport, just as expected (and 4 days and 5 minutes after the test was completed) . I passed my first GTT! I passed with flying colors, to be precise: 109. That's better than a normal test for me. Of course, we'll repeat the one-hour test in a month and probably throw in the 3-hour test for good measure, but for now I'm eating ice cream at least twice a week.
And now, a few random thoughts I had while trudging up a very steep mountain today. Despite the slowness, there are some definite benefits to hiking while pregnant:
1. Even if all I'm doing is walking from the car to the restrooms, I get serious looks of admiration. And since I'm not usually leading the pack in sportiness, I appreciate it.
2. JD and I almost always bring a single hiking backpack and swap it back and forth. No more. He has been carrying everything (including more water than normal, probably a pound of snacks, spare clothes for me, plus the usual large camera and tripod, etc.) When I am feeling energetic I carry my point and shot camera. When not, I make him carry it.
3. I can turn around at any point just by saying I don't feel great. No questions. Which is great.
4. Iron supplements are great when you're going to be in the woods without any toilets all day.
The downsides: I forgot to pack 'safe' bugspray so I am covered in bugbites (there is no west vile or anything particularly dangerous here so I think it's worth the suffering, although I'm not sure how I'll feel in the morning).
Sorry this post is completely disorganized. Maybe I'll feel energetic in the morning and reorganize it. Or maybe JD will decide he really does want to head out at 7 am so we can start our hike before it gets hot ...
Still no clear movement. I keep reading that early kicks can feel like 'indigestion' but I think this means a clear pain, etc. not just a stomachache, of which I've had plenty. At least I hope my daughter doesn't feel like a stomachache ...
JD this morning added to his fine repertoire of comments 'admiring my new figure' as he would put it. As I was getting dressed he looks up, smiles and says "Wow, you've got an underbelly."
I forgot to post my best good news last week because it arrived so very late ... as I was going through security at Logan airport, just as expected (and 4 days and 5 minutes after the test was completed) . I passed my first GTT! I passed with flying colors, to be precise: 109. That's better than a normal test for me. Of course, we'll repeat the one-hour test in a month and probably throw in the 3-hour test for good measure, but for now I'm eating ice cream at least twice a week.
And now, a few random thoughts I had while trudging up a very steep mountain today. Despite the slowness, there are some definite benefits to hiking while pregnant:
1. Even if all I'm doing is walking from the car to the restrooms, I get serious looks of admiration. And since I'm not usually leading the pack in sportiness, I appreciate it.
2. JD and I almost always bring a single hiking backpack and swap it back and forth. No more. He has been carrying everything (including more water than normal, probably a pound of snacks, spare clothes for me, plus the usual large camera and tripod, etc.) When I am feeling energetic I carry my point and shot camera. When not, I make him carry it.
3. I can turn around at any point just by saying I don't feel great. No questions. Which is great.
4. Iron supplements are great when you're going to be in the woods without any toilets all day.
The downsides: I forgot to pack 'safe' bugspray so I am covered in bugbites (there is no west vile or anything particularly dangerous here so I think it's worth the suffering, although I'm not sure how I'll feel in the morning).
Sorry this post is completely disorganized. Maybe I'll feel energetic in the morning and reorganize it. Or maybe JD will decide he really does want to head out at 7 am so we can start our hike before it gets hot ...
Friday, August 15, 2008
No news
First, the funny stuff.
Yesterday night JD looks at my tummy and announces rather loudly: "Don't even think of blaming all of that on the baby."
And then this morning he rolls over, smiles sleepily at me and says: "Oh wow. Your double chin is definitely back."
So ...
Tonight after dinner I had 2 chocolate chip cookies, a bite of ice cream (with caffeine - super-yummy coffee flavor) and then lay on the couch with both hands on my stomach and ... nothing. JD also put his hands on my stomach and nothing. The ob/gyn I last saw at 18 weeks in City X had made some comment about how I was most likely to feel movement right after dinner when I was 'sitting watching TV.' Well, we don't own a TV and I usually get my 2nd or 3rd wind after dinner so I was wondering if I'm just not sitting still long enough to feel the movement. But at least tonight, definitely not much going on. Oh, and I'll be 22 weeks at motzei shabbos (i.e. Saturday night).
Yesterday night JD looks at my tummy and announces rather loudly: "Don't even think of blaming all of that on the baby."
And then this morning he rolls over, smiles sleepily at me and says: "Oh wow. Your double chin is definitely back."
So ...
Tonight after dinner I had 2 chocolate chip cookies, a bite of ice cream (with caffeine - super-yummy coffee flavor) and then lay on the couch with both hands on my stomach and ... nothing. JD also put his hands on my stomach and nothing. The ob/gyn I last saw at 18 weeks in City X had made some comment about how I was most likely to feel movement right after dinner when I was 'sitting watching TV.' Well, we don't own a TV and I usually get my 2nd or 3rd wind after dinner so I was wondering if I'm just not sitting still long enough to feel the movement. But at least tonight, definitely not much going on. Oh, and I'll be 22 weeks at motzei shabbos (i.e. Saturday night).
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Thanks
Thank you for all the suggestions on how to make my very sleepy insider kick. I will be working on them until further notice.
[A little side note: I have definitely checked on the placement of the placenta and it is posterior and not interfering with feeling movement. I don't really have an option to switch to an ob/gyn at this point, although I supposed I'm still on the wait list for 8 different practices and I might be able to call back and nag them. I don't really know how the rest of the world works, but in NYC there are very few doctors who deliver babies because of the malpractice insurance and hospital costs and even fewer who do so with an option to avoid a C-section, so I think I'm stuck with my midwife. And I didn't even see my midwife on Monday, but someone else in her practice because she was delivering a baby. Of course, still waiting for my GT results and leaving the country on Friday afternoon (and cell phone range) doesn't make me thrillled ....]
Other than my obsessing, our trip is going great. I don't know many people who would be as thrilled to start their honeymoon at 8 am in Port Authority NYC waiting for a greyhound and fall asleep around 2 am on an air mattress on the floor, but we are. JD and I commuted primarily by bus between NYC and Boston for the first 4 years of our relationship and it brought back all sorts of nostalgic memories of calling from buses stranded in the snow, traffic, breakdowns, bus weirdos, arriving into South Station after the T had shut done or before it had opened, all of our fine, cheap travel adventures ...
We're actually visiting some of my relatives at the beach yesterday and today and having a great time. They now own the house where I was living the first full semester JD and I were together and we used to sneak out here and enjoy the utter luxury (remember, we were 22 and just out of college) of having the run of a full house together. Albeit, a house with intermittent water and no trash pick-up so we had to carry little stinky bags of trash all the way to the commuter boat or T and sneak them into the garbage containers (the house is now fully renovated).
We went by Jacqu.es To.rre chocolates in Manhattan on Tuesday night and bought the NYT's recommended chocolate chips for their favorite chocolate chip cookies and have been munching on them all day. My aunt also special-ordered ice cream from Oregon which UPS delivered on dry ice yesterday night and has been a main part of my dairy intake. Maybe it's for the best I haven't got my GT test results yet ... Watched our first Olympics coverage with people who really understand the events, walked on the beach, explored the basement and otherwise are having a fabulously relaxing time. It's 11 am and JD's still asleep so I think I'll go back to bed ...
[A little side note: I have definitely checked on the placement of the placenta and it is posterior and not interfering with feeling movement. I don't really have an option to switch to an ob/gyn at this point, although I supposed I'm still on the wait list for 8 different practices and I might be able to call back and nag them. I don't really know how the rest of the world works, but in NYC there are very few doctors who deliver babies because of the malpractice insurance and hospital costs and even fewer who do so with an option to avoid a C-section, so I think I'm stuck with my midwife. And I didn't even see my midwife on Monday, but someone else in her practice because she was delivering a baby. Of course, still waiting for my GT results and leaving the country on Friday afternoon (and cell phone range) doesn't make me thrillled ....]
Other than my obsessing, our trip is going great. I don't know many people who would be as thrilled to start their honeymoon at 8 am in Port Authority NYC waiting for a greyhound and fall asleep around 2 am on an air mattress on the floor, but we are. JD and I commuted primarily by bus between NYC and Boston for the first 4 years of our relationship and it brought back all sorts of nostalgic memories of calling from buses stranded in the snow, traffic, breakdowns, bus weirdos, arriving into South Station after the T had shut done or before it had opened, all of our fine, cheap travel adventures ...
We're actually visiting some of my relatives at the beach yesterday and today and having a great time. They now own the house where I was living the first full semester JD and I were together and we used to sneak out here and enjoy the utter luxury (remember, we were 22 and just out of college) of having the run of a full house together. Albeit, a house with intermittent water and no trash pick-up so we had to carry little stinky bags of trash all the way to the commuter boat or T and sneak them into the garbage containers (the house is now fully renovated).
We went by Jacqu.es To.rre chocolates in Manhattan on Tuesday night and bought the NYT's recommended chocolate chips for their favorite chocolate chip cookies and have been munching on them all day. My aunt also special-ordered ice cream from Oregon which UPS delivered on dry ice yesterday night and has been a main part of my dairy intake. Maybe it's for the best I haven't got my GT test results yet ... Watched our first Olympics coverage with people who really understand the events, walked on the beach, explored the basement and otherwise are having a fabulously relaxing time. It's 11 am and JD's still asleep so I think I'll go back to bed ...
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
21.5 weeks and no kicking
Nothing. No bubbles, gas pains, kicking. Nada.
And I was honestly doing ok with it. Remember, I've been focusing on embracing my inner earth-mother. Dr. Google says that anytime between 16 and 24 weeks is fine, and that it may be on the later side with a first pregnancy.
But then yesterday the midwife (not my midwife, her partner, she was at a delivery) seemed very, very surprised by the lack of kicking. She quickly dopplered me and assured me all was well, but then really freaking me out by asking me to call in when I first felt movement (my next appointment is not for a month because of all this travel. In fact, it's the very night I return to NYC).
So maybe I wasn't meant to be a midwife patient. I thought that I would have the best of both worlds with an ob/gyn through the first trimester and half of the second trimester because I was in City X and then a midwife for the third trimester and delivery. But now? Not so sure.
The midwife assured me that the baby is fine because of the doppler heartbeat and the anatomy scan (um, 5 weeks ago) and my weight gain. But that calm lasted for all of about 10 seconds. Am I wrong in thinking that you can't tell restricted growth without an ultrasound? What if the baby is already falling behind while I try to meditate and eat granola? What if I have a serious nutritional deficiency (yes, that reminds me, time for another GI appointment as soon as I'm back). What if my co.rt.is.ol is restricting growth? Shouldn't we do something about that before 26 weeks when I next see the midwife (that would be practically the 3rd trimester)?
The midwife went so far as to suggest that 'larger' women might feel movement later. Now, I know I have ginormous breasts but I weighed 129 lbs when I got pregnant. I don't think that exactly qualifies as 'larger' at 5'4". I'm curvy, but I will not take the label of fat for my 129 lbs (which I fought very, very hard to put back on thank you very much. I was not a pretty sight at 95 lbs and shrinking).
I asked if there were any tricks to feel the baby move and she suggested sitting still on the couch after dinner. Here I sit, no movement. And I asked if drinking OJ would help, but she said that's really a trick for a much larger baby.
So I'm trying to think positive thoughts. And not even consider a quick little ER run during our trip. But at one point should I panic? 24 weeks? Before?
And I was honestly doing ok with it. Remember, I've been focusing on embracing my inner earth-mother. Dr. Google says that anytime between 16 and 24 weeks is fine, and that it may be on the later side with a first pregnancy.
But then yesterday the midwife (not my midwife, her partner, she was at a delivery) seemed very, very surprised by the lack of kicking. She quickly dopplered me and assured me all was well, but then really freaking me out by asking me to call in when I first felt movement (my next appointment is not for a month because of all this travel. In fact, it's the very night I return to NYC).
So maybe I wasn't meant to be a midwife patient. I thought that I would have the best of both worlds with an ob/gyn through the first trimester and half of the second trimester because I was in City X and then a midwife for the third trimester and delivery. But now? Not so sure.
The midwife assured me that the baby is fine because of the doppler heartbeat and the anatomy scan (um, 5 weeks ago) and my weight gain. But that calm lasted for all of about 10 seconds. Am I wrong in thinking that you can't tell restricted growth without an ultrasound? What if the baby is already falling behind while I try to meditate and eat granola? What if I have a serious nutritional deficiency (yes, that reminds me, time for another GI appointment as soon as I'm back). What if my co.rt.is.ol is restricting growth? Shouldn't we do something about that before 26 weeks when I next see the midwife (that would be practically the 3rd trimester)?
The midwife went so far as to suggest that 'larger' women might feel movement later. Now, I know I have ginormous breasts but I weighed 129 lbs when I got pregnant. I don't think that exactly qualifies as 'larger' at 5'4". I'm curvy, but I will not take the label of fat for my 129 lbs (which I fought very, very hard to put back on thank you very much. I was not a pretty sight at 95 lbs and shrinking).
I asked if there were any tricks to feel the baby move and she suggested sitting still on the couch after dinner. Here I sit, no movement. And I asked if drinking OJ would help, but she said that's really a trick for a much larger baby.
So I'm trying to think positive thoughts. And not even consider a quick little ER run during our trip. But at one point should I panic? 24 weeks? Before?
Monday, August 11, 2008
Preliminary thoughts
I always knew that balancing 2 families from very different cultures was going to be hard. I just thought that the battles would start a bit later. Which is not to say that anyone's picking a fight, but a few little things became apparent over dinner today at JD's parent's:
- My culture names after deceased relatives as a sign of respect. JD's culture absolutely forbids the reuse of a name within a family.
- My family believes in breastfeeding and attachment-style parenting. JD's family are pro-formula (although they concede the health benefits of bf, just don't think it's worth the craziness) and don't really see the need for both parents to be near the baby.
Which brings us to tonight's realization. I was kind-of counting on JD's mother to come help out for a couple of days (think 2-4) after I give birth.* She likes babies, she has a decently flexible schedule where she could take a couple of days vacation without advance notice. We're only 2 hours away. But ... she wants to pick me and baby up from the hospital and take us out to their house. So we'll have space. And she can hire help. And she just doesn't understand why JD needs to be near the baby. Apparently JD's father did not see him until he was a year old.** And they honestly have a fabulous relationship. I just don't think it's fair to him. Or the wonderbaby. And JD is the most calming person in my life. We weren't supposed to see each other the day of the wedding, but I wouldn't have survived the stress if my family had enforced the no phone call rule.
[Side note: We dropped by my friend's today to meet her newborn daughter. Lots of fun. I'll write about that later. But more relevant, she was also bounced from the gold-plated rose-scented birthing center for a very minor complication which did not impede her all-natural childbirth. And then she was told that her husband had to leave at the end of visiting hours and leave her alone with the baby. And the only alternative was to pay $750 for a private room for 8 hours so that he could stay past 8 pm. Really? $750? We don't have that, and I certainly don't plan to be alone (I know, there are nurses around. But they are there for medical problems, not my personal assistance) so I'm guessing that we'll be lobbying to get discharged ASAP or opting to leave baby alone in the hospital if necessary so that JD and I can go home together. Thank you NYC].
In her culture it is very taboo for a post-natal woman to go out and about for the first month (and I mean, literally taboo to leave the house). So she's a bit horrified by my plans. And she would be totally fine with me leaving the baby at her house during the week. From birth. But I'm not. And I know she couldn't bf because of medical complications, but I want to bf. And even if it's a disaster, I know I'm not going to give up in less than a month. Or give a bottle the first week or two unless my doctor recommends it.
These are just my preliminary thoughts. I'm still trying to sort out how to balance these issues. I thought we'd resolved the really big issues by deciding (long before we even started dating, by the way, but long after we knew I was infertile) that our children would be raised in an observant household but they would learn JD's native language (a language I still cannot speak after 2 years of classes and numerous attempts). I thought that was a very generous compromise which will entail me committing to teaching them a language I cannot speak. But seems like we're going to have issues long before we get to even the baby naming ...
* In order for JD to get his fabulously long family leave, he needs to not take more than a day or two for the birth itself. If he has to take more than that, chances are they will make him take all of it then, which is a totally waste for me, and I'll be flying off around the world alone come June because he won't have a single vacation day.
** Although JD did not move to the U.S. until age 10, his parents were already in the process of emigrating when he was born. The separation was obviously not by choice but because of their limited financial means and their commitment to finding the best place to raise their son. After JD's father returned to visit him, his mother left and did not see her son again for almost a decade because of visa issues and the cost of traveling. And they have an incredibly warm, loving, healthy relationship.
More thoughts: I should add for the record but that I wasn't exactly sure what JD thought about all this during dinner, but I asked him after dinner. And he really couldn't understand why I wouldn't come stay with his parents. Immediately after giving birth. Or why I would be upset he couldn't bond with our newborn. He's totally not opposed to my refusing, but he doesn't understand my frustration. He will obviously support whatever decision I make and translate it appropriately for his parents.
- My culture names after deceased relatives as a sign of respect. JD's culture absolutely forbids the reuse of a name within a family.
- My family believes in breastfeeding and attachment-style parenting. JD's family are pro-formula (although they concede the health benefits of bf, just don't think it's worth the craziness) and don't really see the need for both parents to be near the baby.
Which brings us to tonight's realization. I was kind-of counting on JD's mother to come help out for a couple of days (think 2-4) after I give birth.* She likes babies, she has a decently flexible schedule where she could take a couple of days vacation without advance notice. We're only 2 hours away. But ... she wants to pick me and baby up from the hospital and take us out to their house. So we'll have space. And she can hire help. And she just doesn't understand why JD needs to be near the baby. Apparently JD's father did not see him until he was a year old.** And they honestly have a fabulous relationship. I just don't think it's fair to him. Or the wonderbaby. And JD is the most calming person in my life. We weren't supposed to see each other the day of the wedding, but I wouldn't have survived the stress if my family had enforced the no phone call rule.
[Side note: We dropped by my friend's today to meet her newborn daughter. Lots of fun. I'll write about that later. But more relevant, she was also bounced from the gold-plated rose-scented birthing center for a very minor complication which did not impede her all-natural childbirth. And then she was told that her husband had to leave at the end of visiting hours and leave her alone with the baby. And the only alternative was to pay $750 for a private room for 8 hours so that he could stay past 8 pm. Really? $750? We don't have that, and I certainly don't plan to be alone (I know, there are nurses around. But they are there for medical problems, not my personal assistance) so I'm guessing that we'll be lobbying to get discharged ASAP or opting to leave baby alone in the hospital if necessary so that JD and I can go home together. Thank you NYC].
In her culture it is very taboo for a post-natal woman to go out and about for the first month (and I mean, literally taboo to leave the house). So she's a bit horrified by my plans. And she would be totally fine with me leaving the baby at her house during the week. From birth. But I'm not. And I know she couldn't bf because of medical complications, but I want to bf. And even if it's a disaster, I know I'm not going to give up in less than a month. Or give a bottle the first week or two unless my doctor recommends it.
These are just my preliminary thoughts. I'm still trying to sort out how to balance these issues. I thought we'd resolved the really big issues by deciding (long before we even started dating, by the way, but long after we knew I was infertile) that our children would be raised in an observant household but they would learn JD's native language (a language I still cannot speak after 2 years of classes and numerous attempts). I thought that was a very generous compromise which will entail me committing to teaching them a language I cannot speak. But seems like we're going to have issues long before we get to even the baby naming ...
* In order for JD to get his fabulously long family leave, he needs to not take more than a day or two for the birth itself. If he has to take more than that, chances are they will make him take all of it then, which is a totally waste for me, and I'll be flying off around the world alone come June because he won't have a single vacation day.
** Although JD did not move to the U.S. until age 10, his parents were already in the process of emigrating when he was born. The separation was obviously not by choice but because of their limited financial means and their commitment to finding the best place to raise their son. After JD's father returned to visit him, his mother left and did not see her son again for almost a decade because of visa issues and the cost of traveling. And they have an incredibly warm, loving, healthy relationship.
More thoughts: I should add for the record but that I wasn't exactly sure what JD thought about all this during dinner, but I asked him after dinner. And he really couldn't understand why I wouldn't come stay with his parents. Immediately after giving birth. Or why I would be upset he couldn't bond with our newborn. He's totally not opposed to my refusing, but he doesn't understand my frustration. He will obviously support whatever decision I make and translate it appropriately for his parents.
Hm ...
Why am I back in NYC in the first place today? (Especially after the most awful traffic on I-95 N. through the rain yesterday night and the fact that JD and I could have been reimbursed for the hotel room if we'd just pulled over rather than drove until midnight ...): The GTT.
Now I've had this test done several times and I know what's involved. I usually have the 3-hour test, but today they're just doing a 1 hour test. At 21 weeks. And the midwife is going to let me drink apple juice and some precut amount of white bread instead of the orange syrup. But it doesn't make me any happier that I might very well have had my last ice cream of the summer. Oh, and I'll be traveling for the next 3 weeks - should be fabulous if they put me on insulin ...
And I have to admit I'm actually less concerned about the diet and even the insulin than the idea that I will be immediately ineligible for the gold-plated, rose-lined birthing center that everyone around here uses. GD means that I will automatically be in a regular L and D, and gives me a really, really high chance of a c-section (in this city).
And of course I start googling the test, which I have done before. And there it is, on we.b.m.d., I think, reasons the test might be high besides GD: high co.rti.so.l. Which is my weirdest hormonal balance by far, and one that none of my specialist endocrinologists or 3 RE's had much to say about except 'weird' and 'definitely might explain your problems, but there's no research since the 1950's on it.' Great.
Now I've had this test done several times and I know what's involved. I usually have the 3-hour test, but today they're just doing a 1 hour test. At 21 weeks. And the midwife is going to let me drink apple juice and some precut amount of white bread instead of the orange syrup. But it doesn't make me any happier that I might very well have had my last ice cream of the summer. Oh, and I'll be traveling for the next 3 weeks - should be fabulous if they put me on insulin ...
And I have to admit I'm actually less concerned about the diet and even the insulin than the idea that I will be immediately ineligible for the gold-plated, rose-lined birthing center that everyone around here uses. GD means that I will automatically be in a regular L and D, and gives me a really, really high chance of a c-section (in this city).
And of course I start googling the test, which I have done before. And there it is, on we.b.m.d., I think, reasons the test might be high besides GD: high co.rti.so.l. Which is my weirdest hormonal balance by far, and one that none of my specialist endocrinologists or 3 RE's had much to say about except 'weird' and 'definitely might explain your problems, but there's no research since the 1950's on it.' Great.
7:12 am
Woke up in the mini-apartment in NYC with an awful leg cramp (these are really supposed to be a normal side effect of pregnancy? Weird).
And what did I hear? The baby,* babbling away in the hallway.
Home.
* For any new readers, the baby haunted my early days of IF treatments. A charming little boy, the baby was born a week or two before I moved into my new apartment in NYC and his parent's bedroom is directly next to mine. So while they co-slept, I heard his every cry through the night. I did about half of my early treatments while listening to his midnight feeding, most of my early posts were written during his 2-3 am feeding ... and usually woke up to his (toddler) brother's shoes tossed onto my doormat or their double stroller blocking the hall ... nothing against the family at all but it is tough to lie in bed wondering if you'll ever be able to have kids while listening to someone else's newborn cry plaintively ... the good news is that he's now been moved into his brother's room about 10 feet down the hall so we don't hear him quite as clearly while lying in bed (this is all from the early archives - I'm too tired to link to the posts today).
And what did I hear? The baby,* babbling away in the hallway.
Home.
* For any new readers, the baby haunted my early days of IF treatments. A charming little boy, the baby was born a week or two before I moved into my new apartment in NYC and his parent's bedroom is directly next to mine. So while they co-slept, I heard his every cry through the night. I did about half of my early treatments while listening to his midnight feeding, most of my early posts were written during his 2-3 am feeding ... and usually woke up to his (toddler) brother's shoes tossed onto my doormat or their double stroller blocking the hall ... nothing against the family at all but it is tough to lie in bed wondering if you'll ever be able to have kids while listening to someone else's newborn cry plaintively ... the good news is that he's now been moved into his brother's room about 10 feet down the hall so we don't hear him quite as clearly while lying in bed (this is all from the early archives - I'm too tired to link to the posts today).
Friday, August 8, 2008
Funny
The stars aligned this morning.
The movers were late (i.e. I was ready when they got there).
A friend showed up to drop off a mix CD for us and just happened to be driving by the airport on his way out of town so he could drop my sister at the airport (no cab fare required).
And then, first time ever, JD's boss invited me to join them for lunch. At a super-elegant, fancy club. And the movers finished just in time that I could grab a pair of heels out of box as it left the door and fly out of the apartment to lunch.
And lunch was lovely, but there was one pretty funny moment. JD's boss is in his 80's. He is a bit conservative about people's personal behavior, and we were a bit nervous about having asked him to officiate at our civil wedding but not having had a chance to tell him about our little secret prior to the ceremony. And apparently he didn't even find out until a few days after the wedding. He told JD he'd heard the news and he didn't sound upset, but I can still imagine that this is not exactly the precise order of things he finds best.
He asked where we were off to today and JD explained that we're driving up to NYC, visiting his parents, dropping by some relatives 5 hours away and then flying off to our fabulous honeymoon. He must have said something about going hiking (I prefer to think of it as an extended stroll, but let's not quibble about names) because one of JD's coworkers exclaimed loudly "She's going hiking at 5 months pregnant!" and all of his co-workers snickered awkwardly as JD's studiously ignored the comment.
Now, it's quite obvious at this point that I have a bump but there's just no reason to focus on the exact math in certain company ;-)
But I must say, I've definitely 'popped.' Even the very drunk homeless man outside the bar yesterday night gave me a big thumbs up and wished me the best with 'the whole baby thing.' Hey, I'll take whatever I get in terms of good wishes.
I am feeling much, much better now that the apartment is packed, JD will shortly be dashing out of his office, running back to the apartment (all 1.5 blocks) to change into the jeans and t-shirt I have neatly set out in the now completely empty walk-in closet and then we're off! And I do want to say, thank you for all of your supportive comments. For all that my sister and I have slightly different styles, I'm sure that I was much shorter with her and more stressed this week because of finishing up my work and packing and arranging all the little details. I know that she means the very best, and I know that she's excited about my bump and that's what is really important to me.
The movers were late (i.e. I was ready when they got there).
A friend showed up to drop off a mix CD for us and just happened to be driving by the airport on his way out of town so he could drop my sister at the airport (no cab fare required).
And then, first time ever, JD's boss invited me to join them for lunch. At a super-elegant, fancy club. And the movers finished just in time that I could grab a pair of heels out of box as it left the door and fly out of the apartment to lunch.
And lunch was lovely, but there was one pretty funny moment. JD's boss is in his 80's. He is a bit conservative about people's personal behavior, and we were a bit nervous about having asked him to officiate at our civil wedding but not having had a chance to tell him about our little secret prior to the ceremony. And apparently he didn't even find out until a few days after the wedding. He told JD he'd heard the news and he didn't sound upset, but I can still imagine that this is not exactly the precise order of things he finds best.
He asked where we were off to today and JD explained that we're driving up to NYC, visiting his parents, dropping by some relatives 5 hours away and then flying off to our fabulous honeymoon. He must have said something about going hiking (I prefer to think of it as an extended stroll, but let's not quibble about names) because one of JD's coworkers exclaimed loudly "She's going hiking at 5 months pregnant!" and all of his co-workers snickered awkwardly as JD's studiously ignored the comment.
Now, it's quite obvious at this point that I have a bump but there's just no reason to focus on the exact math in certain company ;-)
But I must say, I've definitely 'popped.' Even the very drunk homeless man outside the bar yesterday night gave me a big thumbs up and wished me the best with 'the whole baby thing.' Hey, I'll take whatever I get in terms of good wishes.
I am feeling much, much better now that the apartment is packed, JD will shortly be dashing out of his office, running back to the apartment (all 1.5 blocks) to change into the jeans and t-shirt I have neatly set out in the now completely empty walk-in closet and then we're off! And I do want to say, thank you for all of your supportive comments. For all that my sister and I have slightly different styles, I'm sure that I was much shorter with her and more stressed this week because of finishing up my work and packing and arranging all the little details. I know that she means the very best, and I know that she's excited about my bump and that's what is really important to me.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Yes, she did
At dinner my great-aunt somehow told a story about a friend's granddaughter who couldn't get pregnant, did IVF, and lo and behold had a 'surprise #2.' (No, she doesn't know about either my or my sister's infertile adventures as far as I know). Not a problem. She's older, she doesn't know her audience, she was just chatting.
But then my sister chimes in that she knows lots of people who get pregnant after IF treatments. Honestly.
And I bit my tongue at the dinner table.
But let me tell you I had some words for her on the drive home. Just plain, reasonable words. I.e. some people have serious diagnosis that make the chance of conception null (let's see: blocked tubes, blocked sperm ... um, what was that they said about me ... people who have been anovulatory for over 15 years shouldn't hold out hope for a miraculous little egg to suddenly appear ... something like that). Yes, many people are 'subfertile' and given years of patience they just might just strike it lucky - say 5%? That's not a lot according to the O.E.D. And most of those are using fertility treatments because of the ticking time bomb. People who are diagnosed as infertile at age 11 usually don't just, um, recover.
And what did she do? She said she definitely, personally knew plenty of people who had got pregnant after infertility (now, she has 2 good friends with babies so I'm not sure exactly who these people are. She also doesn't work in an office or someplace she would have a lot of casual acquaintances to gossip about. Beats me who these people are).
And I glowered and told her she was an idiot. So much for self-control and behaving like a doormat.
I also assured her that JD and I have already budgeted for future treatments. And that realistically we need to set aside something like $1000 per month in order to be able to go into it with the same attitude as before - i.e. we're doing this till the bitter end, no pause to save money, loans accepted. Because after all she had all of her treatments covered 100% by her husband's insurance and she has no idea why this idea that we should just relax and wait a few years is so completely and totally infuriating.
But then my sister chimes in that she knows lots of people who get pregnant after IF treatments. Honestly.
And I bit my tongue at the dinner table.
But let me tell you I had some words for her on the drive home. Just plain, reasonable words. I.e. some people have serious diagnosis that make the chance of conception null (let's see: blocked tubes, blocked sperm ... um, what was that they said about me ... people who have been anovulatory for over 15 years shouldn't hold out hope for a miraculous little egg to suddenly appear ... something like that). Yes, many people are 'subfertile' and given years of patience they just might just strike it lucky - say 5%? That's not a lot according to the O.E.D. And most of those are using fertility treatments because of the ticking time bomb. People who are diagnosed as infertile at age 11 usually don't just, um, recover.
And what did she do? She said she definitely, personally knew plenty of people who had got pregnant after infertility (now, she has 2 good friends with babies so I'm not sure exactly who these people are. She also doesn't work in an office or someplace she would have a lot of casual acquaintances to gossip about. Beats me who these people are).
And I glowered and told her she was an idiot. So much for self-control and behaving like a doormat.
I also assured her that JD and I have already budgeted for future treatments. And that realistically we need to set aside something like $1000 per month in order to be able to go into it with the same attitude as before - i.e. we're doing this till the bitter end, no pause to save money, loans accepted. Because after all she had all of her treatments covered 100% by her husband's insurance and she has no idea why this idea that we should just relax and wait a few years is so completely and totally infuriating.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Just a little more venting
I am stressed. And it's making me feel sick. I guess I should not have agreed to this visit. Or to doing the packing when I have a ton of work to do. I feel like I've suddenly (really, this is not normally me - I'm quite good at making my needs known) turned into a soft, gooey doormat that other people can make demands on.
I've escaped to the library for 45 minutes, but I'm just too tired and anxious to get real work done, even though I have so, so much to do. Something tells me I'm going to be stuck lugging my laptop around on our honeymoon ...
My apartment is trashed. By both JD and my sister. She actually changed her feminine products in the living room while I was having breakfast. I did not barf. I'm not normally queasy about these things, but apparently I really am now.
I feel bad about not saying goodbye to our friends yesterday night because she wanted to go home. People I won't see again unless they happen to come visit us in NYC (which quite a few of them are planning to. It cracks me up that a number of JD's friends want to come up for a comic book convention in February and since they are super-easy going, I told them it wouldn't be a problem if they all come pile into the mini-apartment with us and a theoretical one-month-old. They are very excited to meet the baby, but they have the funniest theories about what she'll be doing come February 2009).
She's also making me feel guilty about silly, little things. There's a decent amount of food in our fridge. All opened so we can't donate it. She asked if we were really going to trash all of it ... but what am I supposed to do? We have a 17 hour drive and no cooler, followed by a train, a bus and 2 flights. I'm not planning to drag this stuff around with me. We've offered all of our local friends to come grab whatever they want, but, um, well, they have their own groceries. And I really would have planned meals to eat it all if it weren't for her visit (and thus visiting relatives, going out, running behind schedule yesterday night and having to grab quick food on the way out of the house, and, oh, the fact she doesn't want any meat meals? And honestly, I get to be a bit picky at this point - I'm supposed to be eating this magical diet that's high in protein, calcium, vegetables and fruits and all sorts of other wonderful foods - that means I can't just eat cereal for dinner to not waste food).
Oh, and since this is supposed to be an IF blog and not just my personal navel gazing, I thought I'd throw this in. I am not interested in pregnancy/parenting advice from my sister because she is clueless. She told me her friend had an all-natural childbirth with no fetal monitoring, etc. but I know we both read her birth story on her blog and she talked about the baby going into decels and being told she had to get him out immediately. It's just that my sister doesn't know what the lingo means or what's involved in a natural childbirth. Even a homebirth in 2008 involves a doppler and a little fetal monitoring, and that's a good thing.
Her dear friend had a baby 2 weeks ago (another one of those huge bellies at my wedding) and they are your classic over-zealous (in a good way), obsessive, idealistic first-time parents. I won't say more because they're a great couple and I think they're doing a great job, just in a different style than we might (ok, I'll give a little example. She refused all ultrasounds because she thinks they're bad - i.e. would never consider terminating and would love whatever her body produced. Fine, great. I had ultrasounds to make sure my fetus was viable, for my own sanity, and um, because, I have an acquaintance whose fetus' fatal birth defect was operated on and fixed in utero. She has a beautiful little girl now because she had an ultrasound, underwent a very painful and invasive surgery at a top hospital, and thus gave birth to a little girl with a weak but functioning heart who could survive until they could do more extensive surgery on her. Without that surgery her baby would never have even survived the birth process). Well, my sister was visiting this couple before she came here and seems to have a lot of advice for me. I'm so glad that they're both going to work full-time (after her 12 weeks of leave) and arrange their schedules so they don't need daycare. Good for them. JD works 60-70 hours a week and I have classes I have to teach at fixed times - it's just not an option for us. Not even something worth spending more than 60 seconds pondering. I have a career. I am not self-employed. JD has a very intense work schedule. We need daycare, and we will find the very best daycare we can afford (and probably as little as 15 hours a week the first 6 months) but I am not in any way going to feel guilty about that.
And she is also annoying me because when we were talking about the birthing process, she made some comment about how JD might not be up for it and she would come if necessary. Um, that would require her to come to NYC for say, a month, given that I could have a natural birth anytime between 37 weeks and 41? But she also told me she might not be able to get any vacation days between December and June (when I leave the country for 9 months) so she probably won't be able to meet her niece until she's a year old. I'm sorry, I'm not flying to CA for her convenience. She could take a red-eye and come for a weekend if she wanted to. But I am just not being guilted into flying out there (notice, this is the first time she's visited me in 5-6 years, I usually got out to see her at least every year).
Sorry about the extended whine. I am very, very impressed if you read this far. I guess I should have expected this to happen, but I just kept hoping for a more relaxing visit. And we haven't fought after all.
Can't wait to get out of here on Friday. And have 17 hours alone time with my husband (we're spending shabbos on the drive up at my parent's house but they're on vacation! A large, beautiful quiet house near a pool with nobody to see and nothing to do ...)
I've escaped to the library for 45 minutes, but I'm just too tired and anxious to get real work done, even though I have so, so much to do. Something tells me I'm going to be stuck lugging my laptop around on our honeymoon ...
My apartment is trashed. By both JD and my sister. She actually changed her feminine products in the living room while I was having breakfast. I did not barf. I'm not normally queasy about these things, but apparently I really am now.
I feel bad about not saying goodbye to our friends yesterday night because she wanted to go home. People I won't see again unless they happen to come visit us in NYC (which quite a few of them are planning to. It cracks me up that a number of JD's friends want to come up for a comic book convention in February and since they are super-easy going, I told them it wouldn't be a problem if they all come pile into the mini-apartment with us and a theoretical one-month-old. They are very excited to meet the baby, but they have the funniest theories about what she'll be doing come February 2009).
She's also making me feel guilty about silly, little things. There's a decent amount of food in our fridge. All opened so we can't donate it. She asked if we were really going to trash all of it ... but what am I supposed to do? We have a 17 hour drive and no cooler, followed by a train, a bus and 2 flights. I'm not planning to drag this stuff around with me. We've offered all of our local friends to come grab whatever they want, but, um, well, they have their own groceries. And I really would have planned meals to eat it all if it weren't for her visit (and thus visiting relatives, going out, running behind schedule yesterday night and having to grab quick food on the way out of the house, and, oh, the fact she doesn't want any meat meals? And honestly, I get to be a bit picky at this point - I'm supposed to be eating this magical diet that's high in protein, calcium, vegetables and fruits and all sorts of other wonderful foods - that means I can't just eat cereal for dinner to not waste food).
Oh, and since this is supposed to be an IF blog and not just my personal navel gazing, I thought I'd throw this in. I am not interested in pregnancy/parenting advice from my sister because she is clueless. She told me her friend had an all-natural childbirth with no fetal monitoring, etc. but I know we both read her birth story on her blog and she talked about the baby going into decels and being told she had to get him out immediately. It's just that my sister doesn't know what the lingo means or what's involved in a natural childbirth. Even a homebirth in 2008 involves a doppler and a little fetal monitoring, and that's a good thing.
Her dear friend had a baby 2 weeks ago (another one of those huge bellies at my wedding) and they are your classic over-zealous (in a good way), obsessive, idealistic first-time parents. I won't say more because they're a great couple and I think they're doing a great job, just in a different style than we might (ok, I'll give a little example. She refused all ultrasounds because she thinks they're bad - i.e. would never consider terminating and would love whatever her body produced. Fine, great. I had ultrasounds to make sure my fetus was viable, for my own sanity, and um, because, I have an acquaintance whose fetus' fatal birth defect was operated on and fixed in utero. She has a beautiful little girl now because she had an ultrasound, underwent a very painful and invasive surgery at a top hospital, and thus gave birth to a little girl with a weak but functioning heart who could survive until they could do more extensive surgery on her. Without that surgery her baby would never have even survived the birth process). Well, my sister was visiting this couple before she came here and seems to have a lot of advice for me. I'm so glad that they're both going to work full-time (after her 12 weeks of leave) and arrange their schedules so they don't need daycare. Good for them. JD works 60-70 hours a week and I have classes I have to teach at fixed times - it's just not an option for us. Not even something worth spending more than 60 seconds pondering. I have a career. I am not self-employed. JD has a very intense work schedule. We need daycare, and we will find the very best daycare we can afford (and probably as little as 15 hours a week the first 6 months) but I am not in any way going to feel guilty about that.
And she is also annoying me because when we were talking about the birthing process, she made some comment about how JD might not be up for it and she would come if necessary. Um, that would require her to come to NYC for say, a month, given that I could have a natural birth anytime between 37 weeks and 41? But she also told me she might not be able to get any vacation days between December and June (when I leave the country for 9 months) so she probably won't be able to meet her niece until she's a year old. I'm sorry, I'm not flying to CA for her convenience. She could take a red-eye and come for a weekend if she wanted to. But I am just not being guilted into flying out there (notice, this is the first time she's visited me in 5-6 years, I usually got out to see her at least every year).
Sorry about the extended whine. I am very, very impressed if you read this far. I guess I should have expected this to happen, but I just kept hoping for a more relaxing visit. And we haven't fought after all.
Can't wait to get out of here on Friday. And have 17 hours alone time with my husband (we're spending shabbos on the drive up at my parent's house but they're on vacation! A large, beautiful quiet house near a pool with nobody to see and nothing to do ...)
Little annoyances
In a moment of frustration earlier today I somehow bashed my finger. It hurts.
JD and I always go out on Tuesday night. All his friends showed up tonight. And yet, here I am at home with my sister because she was tired (and perhaps freaked out by going out downtown -she tried to wander off alone to take photos so I had to mention the serious shooting in our favorite bar last month. But people, that's real life - you don't give up on the downtown of a city because of a few random shootings. Remember, we live in NYC normally ...)
It's not me, it's definitely my breadmachine. It's broke. And I really don't have the time to deal with returning it now (or in the next 6 weeks, really). But it just never shuts the heat off so unless you are standing next to it and unplug it at just the right moment it burns everything. I thought the whole purpose of this machine was to throw the ingredients in and leave. And I was home tonight and could have turned it off but I didn't even think to look at the timer. So there goes tomorrow's breakfast.
I have finally found the smell that makes me sick to my stomach. And I really feel bad admitting this because it's not her fault. But, um, tampons in a loft apartment with little ventilation. So awkward. I'm sitting in bed now and it still smells overpowering (and yes, I took the trash out an hour ago and no, I don't own a trash can with a lid - I don't usually have this issue).
I'm stressed about work. JD is stressed about finishing his job this week. We have friends we want to say goodbye to. This really wasn't the best time for my sister to visit, but she also hasn't visited me since I was in college (ok, not that long ago, say about 5 years) so I didn't think it was reasonable/strategic to just tell her that this was a bad time. The movers come Friday morning, she flies out Friday afternoon, and I should have an hour or two to relax before JD and I leave town. He will probably be morose because he hates transitions and packing and moving (ok, not so much hates - doesn't relish like me) and I will be exhausted and sad about the little things I didn't get to do the final week like visit my favorite bookstore or walk 8 blocks to buy vegan chocolate chip cookies (I think the round-trip walk makes this a net benefit for my figure despite the cookies at the other end) because I had company. And so much for eating the contents of the fridge - we went out for a (cheap) dinner tonight because JD worked late and my sister didn't want to eat the meat meal we cooked yesterday night.
I know I'm whining, I'm probably just tired. And tomorrow we're off to visit some of my favorite relatives who just happen to live near the beach (ok, final whine. They also live 1.5 hours away and my sister doesn't want to drive 'our car.' I really don't want to get stuck driving at least 3 hours tomorrow. JD and I always split the drive and it's so much more reasonable that way). But this week will be over soon enough - let's just hope I have the energy left to move, finish up my schoolwork and start our fabulous honeymoon in better spirits than I am now.
JD and I always go out on Tuesday night. All his friends showed up tonight. And yet, here I am at home with my sister because she was tired (and perhaps freaked out by going out downtown -she tried to wander off alone to take photos so I had to mention the serious shooting in our favorite bar last month. But people, that's real life - you don't give up on the downtown of a city because of a few random shootings. Remember, we live in NYC normally ...)
It's not me, it's definitely my breadmachine. It's broke. And I really don't have the time to deal with returning it now (or in the next 6 weeks, really). But it just never shuts the heat off so unless you are standing next to it and unplug it at just the right moment it burns everything. I thought the whole purpose of this machine was to throw the ingredients in and leave. And I was home tonight and could have turned it off but I didn't even think to look at the timer. So there goes tomorrow's breakfast.
I have finally found the smell that makes me sick to my stomach. And I really feel bad admitting this because it's not her fault. But, um, tampons in a loft apartment with little ventilation. So awkward. I'm sitting in bed now and it still smells overpowering (and yes, I took the trash out an hour ago and no, I don't own a trash can with a lid - I don't usually have this issue).
I'm stressed about work. JD is stressed about finishing his job this week. We have friends we want to say goodbye to. This really wasn't the best time for my sister to visit, but she also hasn't visited me since I was in college (ok, not that long ago, say about 5 years) so I didn't think it was reasonable/strategic to just tell her that this was a bad time. The movers come Friday morning, she flies out Friday afternoon, and I should have an hour or two to relax before JD and I leave town. He will probably be morose because he hates transitions and packing and moving (ok, not so much hates - doesn't relish like me) and I will be exhausted and sad about the little things I didn't get to do the final week like visit my favorite bookstore or walk 8 blocks to buy vegan chocolate chip cookies (I think the round-trip walk makes this a net benefit for my figure despite the cookies at the other end) because I had company. And so much for eating the contents of the fridge - we went out for a (cheap) dinner tonight because JD worked late and my sister didn't want to eat the meat meal we cooked yesterday night.
I know I'm whining, I'm probably just tired. And tomorrow we're off to visit some of my favorite relatives who just happen to live near the beach (ok, final whine. They also live 1.5 hours away and my sister doesn't want to drive 'our car.' I really don't want to get stuck driving at least 3 hours tomorrow. JD and I always split the drive and it's so much more reasonable that way). But this week will be over soon enough - let's just hope I have the energy left to move, finish up my schoolwork and start our fabulous honeymoon in better spirits than I am now.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Drugs question
While cleaning out the apartment I found a bottle of Femara. 10 tablets, 2.5 mg each. Expires 3/3/09. It feels really audacious to get rid of them, but if all proceeds as per the status quo we won't be needing them this spring. I don't want to throw them away, but my RE here doesn't have a program to give them to people who can't pay.
I paid for them and a whole lot of follistim (still stored in a friend's fridge so I can't give it away yet) so that I could start my next cycle while I was still in Europe. I told my RE I wanted to squeeze in another 'natural' cycle before our scheduled July IVF and I wanted the BETA to be at least 2 days before the wedding. Sometimes the absurdity of our life makes me laugh. That, and the fact that JD asked exactly what these were for, since of course we were never in the same state when I started a cycle ...
Does anybody know how to gift these to someone who could use them? Is there an organization I can mail them to? If you have ideas, please e-mail me: lon.gdista.ncei.nfertility@gmail.com. (take out the extra dots)
I may not be posting much in the next week. My sister arrives at 7 am tomorrow morning, and the lack of furniture in the apartment means we'll probably be out every evening ...
I paid for them and a whole lot of follistim (still stored in a friend's fridge so I can't give it away yet) so that I could start my next cycle while I was still in Europe. I told my RE I wanted to squeeze in another 'natural' cycle before our scheduled July IVF and I wanted the BETA to be at least 2 days before the wedding. Sometimes the absurdity of our life makes me laugh. That, and the fact that JD asked exactly what these were for, since of course we were never in the same state when I started a cycle ...
Does anybody know how to gift these to someone who could use them? Is there an organization I can mail them to? If you have ideas, please e-mail me: lon.gdista.ncei.nfertility@gmail.com. (take out the extra dots)
I may not be posting much in the next week. My sister arrives at 7 am tomorrow morning, and the lack of furniture in the apartment means we'll probably be out every evening ...
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Up $300 and the apartment is looking a little sad
Before you read this, please hope over and wish Io happy birthday! I presume she's already out on the town tonight, but I'm sure she'd love to read your greetings tomorrow afternoon ...
Cr.ai.gs.lis.t success. Not to boast or anything, but in addition to packing, selling our stuff quickly is one of my skills. However, we'll be sleeping on an air mattress for the next 6 nights ...
JD asked whether we were really selling the bed 6 days before we leave town to make a little money, and I realized this is why I'm in charge of the little details. The problem is not so much the money (although an extra $300 for our trip is fabulous) as that we have plans every night this week and need to leave the apartment completely empty (there was no shower curtain when we moved in - so annoying) or pay the fine. There's also no dumpster outside our building, and much as I love the freecycle guys, I couldn't imagine dealing with them on our last day in town. So we're now living in an even more minimalist apartment so that we can have an even busier week and start our 17 hour drive* within 15 minutes of JD finishing his last day of work ... ah, the fun of living a haphazard life.
In other news, I finally have some baby consignment store/goodwill/thrift store experience after an afternoon of shopping. The goal was actually to find JD a tuxedo (please give me any advice you have on this), but no luck there. There were lots of tuxedos at the secondhand stores, but they were all way too big for JD. He doesn't like the ones at the big stores like M.en's W.ar.ehou.se and doesn't want to spend as much money as Bro.ok.s Br.oth.ers, but he'd be totally content with a thrift store find. We happen to need one soon for several black tie events this fall (can't imagine what I'll be wearing, but at least JD can look good). So I took the opportunity to 'scout out' the baby clothes ...
And they're a bargarin! And cute! And all of the girl's ones are pink, pink, pink. But I caved and bought about 14 items, all practical. The widest selection was the local hipster thrift store, but they were also the most expensive (.95-4.95). Sal.va.ti.on A.rm.y had the most upscale items, and very cheap (Bebe, Nord.st.rom sweaters for $2). The winner by far was Goodw.ill: apparently all of their clothes size 2T and under are always $1 an item. No matter what the item or where it's from. I picked up several G.AP and Ca.rt.er onesies (mostly in the boy's section, but I guess that's to be expected at this point) and 2 sweaters and 2 fleece one-piece outfits. It's cold where I'll be living in the winter and although I'm sure my mother and MIL are picking up stacks of onesies and cute dresses, I wanted to make sure that we had at least a few warm items to get us through until May. Total cost: $22.
Don't worry, I haven't given up my infertile insecurities. After I wash all of these items, they will be packed away, carted off by our movers at the end of the week and not seen again until mid-September, at which point I will either be a few weeks at most from the third trimester or JD will have to deal with the aftermath and unpack and dispose of them. See, a totally reasonable escape plan.
* Don't worry, the drive is split up into 7 hours, 4.5 hours, 5.5 hours. Much more reasonable than I would have planned myself.
Cr.ai.gs.lis.t success. Not to boast or anything, but in addition to packing, selling our stuff quickly is one of my skills. However, we'll be sleeping on an air mattress for the next 6 nights ...
JD asked whether we were really selling the bed 6 days before we leave town to make a little money, and I realized this is why I'm in charge of the little details. The problem is not so much the money (although an extra $300 for our trip is fabulous) as that we have plans every night this week and need to leave the apartment completely empty (there was no shower curtain when we moved in - so annoying) or pay the fine. There's also no dumpster outside our building, and much as I love the freecycle guys, I couldn't imagine dealing with them on our last day in town. So we're now living in an even more minimalist apartment so that we can have an even busier week and start our 17 hour drive* within 15 minutes of JD finishing his last day of work ... ah, the fun of living a haphazard life.
In other news, I finally have some baby consignment store/goodwill/thrift store experience after an afternoon of shopping. The goal was actually to find JD a tuxedo (please give me any advice you have on this), but no luck there. There were lots of tuxedos at the secondhand stores, but they were all way too big for JD. He doesn't like the ones at the big stores like M.en's W.ar.ehou.se and doesn't want to spend as much money as Bro.ok.s Br.oth.ers, but he'd be totally content with a thrift store find. We happen to need one soon for several black tie events this fall (can't imagine what I'll be wearing, but at least JD can look good). So I took the opportunity to 'scout out' the baby clothes ...
And they're a bargarin! And cute! And all of the girl's ones are pink, pink, pink. But I caved and bought about 14 items, all practical. The widest selection was the local hipster thrift store, but they were also the most expensive (.95-4.95). Sal.va.ti.on A.rm.y had the most upscale items, and very cheap (Bebe, Nord.st.rom sweaters for $2). The winner by far was Goodw.ill: apparently all of their clothes size 2T and under are always $1 an item. No matter what the item or where it's from. I picked up several G.AP and Ca.rt.er onesies (mostly in the boy's section, but I guess that's to be expected at this point) and 2 sweaters and 2 fleece one-piece outfits. It's cold where I'll be living in the winter and although I'm sure my mother and MIL are picking up stacks of onesies and cute dresses, I wanted to make sure that we had at least a few warm items to get us through until May. Total cost: $22.
Don't worry, I haven't given up my infertile insecurities. After I wash all of these items, they will be packed away, carted off by our movers at the end of the week and not seen again until mid-September, at which point I will either be a few weeks at most from the third trimester or JD will have to deal with the aftermath and unpack and dispose of them. See, a totally reasonable escape plan.
* Don't worry, the drive is split up into 7 hours, 4.5 hours, 5.5 hours. Much more reasonable than I would have planned myself.
Friday, August 1, 2008
7 more days
in City X. And for those of you who move a lot, you know that means it's ... weird food time! The goal is to eat everything left in the apartment and not buy any groceries in the next 7 days.
Up for dinner: matza ball soup, refried beans and a can of hearts of palm as a side. Maybe asparagus if we feel indulgent.
And it looks like the options may go downhill from tonight ... (did I mention my sister is coming to visit next week?)
AND, crai.g.s.li.st time! My personal goal is to make $300 from the sale of our furniture although JD thinks that is an unreachable goal. We don't have much to sell: a mattress, couch, coffee table, small bookshelf, 2 lamps and 2 bar stools. But, all of the profits are targeted exclusively for eating out during our honeymoon, so it's worth the effort.
Only problem is that I posted everything this morning and thus far the greatest interest has been in the mattress (yes, that mattress. JD was opposed to selling it at all, but I put a little disclaimer and priced it really, really cheaply, which is probably why so many people are interested. Plus, I'd feel bad if the Sal.va.t.ion Ar.my guys came to pick up our furniture and that's all we had to offer them). So we may have to move to the air mattress for our final week here. Honestly I'll be much sadder when we sell the couch and the lamps.
I do actually enjoy having the flexibility to live without groceries and furniture for a week. I just hope the wonderbaby (should she arrive safely and healthily) doesn't mind her parent's weird quirks.
Update, a little cr.a.igs.li.st rant (in other words, I miss NYC where people know exactly what they are getting when they shop for used furniture online - cheap stuff, slightly scuffed, not too much information):
1. If you are genuinely interested in an item and it is listed as being 'Downtown' don't e-mail me to ask how far your suburb is from downtown. I don't know. But google does.
2. If an item is explicitly listed as being previously purchased off crai.gs.li.st, don't ask me how old it is. I don't know.
3. Do not e-mail just to say you are interested. Either a. ask if it's still available b. propose a time to come pick it up. I don't care that you're 'interested,' I care that someone comes and hands me cash for something I can no longer use.
4. All of my posts say that you must pick up the item yourself. I mean it. I'm not going to either deliver furniture to you or help you get it off the building. Sorry, not something I'm supposed to be doing at the moment.
5. Don't e-mail me your phone number and ask me to call you. I pay for my cell phone minutes and I'm in the library all day anyway. E-mail works much better unless you want to write something like you don't have e-mail access at home (in which case I might just call).
Sorry, it's just so annoying to answer 20 e-mails but still have no clear idea if anyone is actually going to show up for this stuff. And freecycle is not any more efficient here.
Up for dinner: matza ball soup, refried beans and a can of hearts of palm as a side. Maybe asparagus if we feel indulgent.
And it looks like the options may go downhill from tonight ... (did I mention my sister is coming to visit next week?)
AND, crai.g.s.li.st time! My personal goal is to make $300 from the sale of our furniture although JD thinks that is an unreachable goal. We don't have much to sell: a mattress, couch, coffee table, small bookshelf, 2 lamps and 2 bar stools. But, all of the profits are targeted exclusively for eating out during our honeymoon, so it's worth the effort.
Only problem is that I posted everything this morning and thus far the greatest interest has been in the mattress (yes, that mattress. JD was opposed to selling it at all, but I put a little disclaimer and priced it really, really cheaply, which is probably why so many people are interested. Plus, I'd feel bad if the Sal.va.t.ion Ar.my guys came to pick up our furniture and that's all we had to offer them). So we may have to move to the air mattress for our final week here. Honestly I'll be much sadder when we sell the couch and the lamps.
I do actually enjoy having the flexibility to live without groceries and furniture for a week. I just hope the wonderbaby (should she arrive safely and healthily) doesn't mind her parent's weird quirks.
Update, a little cr.a.igs.li.st rant (in other words, I miss NYC where people know exactly what they are getting when they shop for used furniture online - cheap stuff, slightly scuffed, not too much information):
1. If you are genuinely interested in an item and it is listed as being 'Downtown' don't e-mail me to ask how far your suburb is from downtown. I don't know. But google does.
2. If an item is explicitly listed as being previously purchased off crai.gs.li.st, don't ask me how old it is. I don't know.
3. Do not e-mail just to say you are interested. Either a. ask if it's still available b. propose a time to come pick it up. I don't care that you're 'interested,' I care that someone comes and hands me cash for something I can no longer use.
4. All of my posts say that you must pick up the item yourself. I mean it. I'm not going to either deliver furniture to you or help you get it off the building. Sorry, not something I'm supposed to be doing at the moment.
5. Don't e-mail me your phone number and ask me to call you. I pay for my cell phone minutes and I'm in the library all day anyway. E-mail works much better unless you want to write something like you don't have e-mail access at home (in which case I might just call).
Sorry, it's just so annoying to answer 20 e-mails but still have no clear idea if anyone is actually going to show up for this stuff. And freecycle is not any more efficient here.
Shots
Outside our apartment building. No police cars in sight. [We're on the 6th floor so we're in no direct danger, but we also can't do anything for the poor guy out there except call the police].
There have been 2 attempted murders in the park next to our building while I've been in City X. One of them was between teenagers and apparently over an ipod or video game, something little. JD and I were supposed to meet up for lunch in the park that day, but I was too busy. He was there and heard the shots, I was at the ob/gyn's office.
This is the world that I'm bringing a small, helpless child into. Great.
There have been 2 attempted murders in the park next to our building while I've been in City X. One of them was between teenagers and apparently over an ipod or video game, something little. JD and I were supposed to meet up for lunch in the park that day, but I was too busy. He was there and heard the shots, I was at the ob/gyn's office.
This is the world that I'm bringing a small, helpless child into. Great.
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