I'm Group Strep B positive. Not a big deal at all. Except, see ... the particular strain I am positive for combined with my other little medical problems mean that the only "full" treatment is a rather rare (and strong and potentially potent for the little guy) drug which needs to be given via IV 2 doses, 12 hours apart.
And if that doesn't happen, the baby will be held for 48 hours in the hospital. Held because of medical liability because the only thing that the nurses will do to monitor the baby during that time is to "look at him" and "take his temperature." Two things which I am quite happy to do at home.
And even if I have a normal delivery in the birthin.g center, we will be transferred to regular L and D. You know, with shared rooms and where husbands are only allowed in during "visiting hours." For 2 nights. And I'm just not ok with that scenario for many reasons, including:
1. No one actually thinks that this type of monitoring saves lives
2. I will be alone, having to take care of myself sans husband in a hospital which doesn't provide food I can eat and certainly won't let me go out and buy my own food. The L and D ward doesn't allow co-sleeping so I will have to get myself up and out of bed everytime that I want to feed the baby. I will also presumably not get all that much sleep since I'll be sharing a room with another newborn.
3. It will be a huge and unnecessary hassle to arrange childcare for the fusspot. If JD starts his 'paternity leave' then we'll lose the chance for him to take it later when it would actually be helpful. So yeah, I'll be trying to hire basically round-the-clock babysitting (sidenote: haven't seen my husband yet this week because he's been getting home around 1:30 am every night. So no, it's not exactly viable to expect him to watch the fusspot, also drop by to "visit" his son and me in the hospital, and not start his leave. He could however call in "sick" for a 24 hour labor, which is what happened with the fusspot).
I had a long meltdown on the phone with the midwives and floated all of the following options:
1. Attempt to de-sensitize me to pen.icillin. This would not only involve a risky in-patient procedure, but also immediate induction.
2. Consider taking said drug (via IV) on a daily basis from 38 or 39 weeks so that technically I would get 2 doses in 12 hours ... except see above for risks to baby. Plus daily visits to the hospital.
So yeah. Not too many viable options. The midwives think that there is practically no chance that I'll have a 12 hour labor (my last labor was shorter, I didn't even notice I was in labor for a good half of it, and that was with a baby who was decidedly in the wrong position until the final 20 minutes). The only option I have been offered is for me to be discharged post-delivery and leave the baby behind. At least that way I could get some help getting up, dealing with the gore, get to see the fusspot, sleep in my own bed ... and cab back and forth to the hospital every 2 hours round-the-clock to try and nurse the bargain baby in a public waiting room. Delicious, eh?
Yeah, a small voice says hop on a plane to my moms and deliver there, but then there's no chance JD would be around ... and then there's the whole exposing the baby to airplane germs at a few days old to get back to NYC.
So I'm doing the only thing I can think of: cancelled all afternoon appointments and curled up in bed crying. I know, I know I'm certain I am overreacting. After all, this is just the normal procedure if I landed up with an emergency c-section, and I certainly wouldn't be upset after that. It's just the idea that I am going to have to take care of myself alone post-partum, JD is going to miss out at least spending the first 2 nights with the baby, the fusspot is going to have an unnecessarily traumatic transition being shuffled between babysitters all for ... liability reasons. I mean, they don't even test for Strep in Lalaland and they have a much higher success rate in keeping both mothers and babies alive through this whole process.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Saturday, February 5, 2011
A part of that rarefied world
One of my favorite self-reflective bloggers (hi Ms. Bloodsigns!) has been writing a lot about parenting styles and making deliberate choices (and toddlers and stepsons and lots else) and while I do realize that JD and I are part of that super-competitive Ivy League educated East Coast living hyper-critical and over-stressed yuppies raising bilingual children crowd sometimes it takes a laughable instance to show just how out of step we are with the rest of the country.
So, we have no TV. We have no TV because I just don't see us having the self-control not to watch too much TV if we had one, and I also don't think it's realistic to ask a babysitter not to turn on a TV if it's sitting in the living room. JD manages to watch almost everything he wants on his computer, and we live above a bar (aka 'the basement' which JD has been known to run down to visit in his flip flops and pjs) with several large TVs for big sporting events. But the fusspot was sick this week and as you all know I've been a bit lethargic recently (say the past 10 months or so ...) so I decided that desperate times call for desperate measures and this was the perfect opportunity for her first DVD at home. And we live in a building with 4 other 2-year-olds so I sent out an e-mail asking our neighbors if I could borrow a DVD. And the first 3 to write back were fully apologetic ... but they didn't have any childrens videos in their apartments. Luckily #4 did and the fusspot happily settled into a glazed-eye state in front of Barney's Farm while I desperately tried to both cook lunch and do some work.
Oh, and when JD came home on Wednesday night I finally got the belly/toddler shot I've been wanting (25 months, 36 weeks):
But it turns out that 25 months is a bit of an odd place developmentally. I have been trying to relax more, and part of that for me is reading parenting books. My recent late night reads (i.e. past 1 am. Totally laughed when a WAHM complained about staying up till midnight to get her work done. I don't go to bed before 1 am. Ever. Especially not if I want to see my husband for more than 20 minutes a day) include Origins: How the 9 Months Before Birth Shape the Rest of our Lives (so much press about this book, which makes all sorts of claims about the important of pre-natal environment for health and later development. Skip it. It is science dumbed down to nothing. So disappointing) and You are Your Child's First Teacher: What Parents Can do With and for their Children from Birth to Age Six and Adventures in Tandem Nursing (highly, highly recommend it, quite possibly the best breastfeeding book out there even for those who are not going to tandem nurse).
Ok, I'll admit it. I love You are Your Child's First Teacher. It's a delightful mix of developmental stages and suggestions for developmentally-appropriate activities and games and completely kooky Steiner-inspired suggestions (i.e. Waldorf education). For example, it quite seriously suggests painting your nursery green or brown because newborns are still "descending from another world" and those colors will help them become grounded on earth. Of course, because it has such absurd propositions (plus toddlers communing with angels and babies who are sad because they are imitating the sad expressions on their dolls faces ...) it's easy to just skip over the dire advice on how to balance work and parenting ("Quit your job") and the firm pronouncement that men are best seen as financial support services for loving, devoted (presumably large-breasted and barefoot) mothers. What the book does an excellent job of is outlining age-appropriate development and suggesting activities/toys to encourage creative, independent play (all the usual suggestions about no toy boxes and limiting the number of toys and lots of craft activities and natural objects. Oh, how I have been considering this online class about playful learning spaces. JD just mumbles about 4 people in 600 square feet and ignores me :-)).
What I would really like to find is a slightly-less kooky book to give to JD to read. I was raised by very-hippie parents and went to a lab school and can entirely see the benefit of hours spent playing dress-up or huge baskets of blocks and dinosaurs, but I sometimes forget that JD had none of those activities as a child (although he certainly also didn't have a TV and was surrounded by books). This morning we left the fusspot with her grandparents (finally!) and spent a good 4 hours out alone, mostly talking about finances and parenting. And it brought into relief just how little JD knows about age-appropriate development (and also how open he is to my crazy ideas). And while he was rather skeptical of some of my claims about the importance of both physical development and imaginative play (for the record, at just 2 the fusspot loves her dress-up clothes which mostly consist of funny hats and scarves from goodwill at this point, although she doesn't have the imagination to play with them alone. They mostly come out on playdates), having family friends over tonight did a good deal to sell my argument. Last week our neighbors landed up in a snow-related-canceled-school-day-no-childcare dilemma and sent their 5 and 8 year old to our apartment on about an hour's notice (sadly the fusspot was at daycare and missed the big kids). I was busy and tired and did absolutely nothing to prepare and exceedingly little to entertain them, mostly reclining on the couch and offering suggestions. And this sister/brother pair happily played for over an hour with the fusspot's toddler toys. The little girl set up an elaborate wedding party in a castle using blocks and stuffed animals and board books as building material, and the little boy collected things with wheels from the fusspot's shelf and set up a racing course complete with evil-villains and daring jumps. In contrast, my in-laws had some family friends over for dinner tonight. The 5 and 9 year old brother/sister pair played for about a half hour before melting down in a huge fight and settling in front of the TV for the rest of the evening, despite multiple age-appropriate toys being set up for them (board games, books, craft supplies). Needless to say one set of kids have no TV and live in a tiny apartment, while the other set live in a huge house in the suburbs (and thus all playdates are carefully scheduled with an adult along) with a 'home movie theater'-sized TV. Of course, both are charming and well-behaved and this is not meant to be a critique of anyone else's parenting choices, it's just about what I want to do with the fusspot.
Of course, what I also really don't want to do is to put any extra academic pressure on the fusspot. I am truly horrified by the amount of (almost entirely useless) homework that our daycare provider's 5 year old daughter receives every afternoon. I see quite a bit of it because it is just absurd enough that her immigrant mother can't help her with it (i.e. she had to draw a picture of a hedgehog recently. You can live happily in the U.S. for over a decade and get 2 advanced degrees without needing that particular word) and so when I pick the fusspot up I am often asked to look over her homework. In the first place, it is awful that this 5-year-old is not allowed to go outside and play until her homework is done, and that often takes an hour or more of foot-dragging (oh, and she leaves for school at 7:15 am. It's a long day for a 5 year old). The worksheets are boring and repetitive and way too hard for any kid that age to do alone, so they are largely a test of whether there is an involved parent home every afternoon to help. I presumed that this must be a brand new teacher and suggested that Y. go complain to the principal, but she assured me that this classroom is in line with the other ones (the other 5-year old at daycare also has quite a lot of homework but I'm not asked to look over it because his parents do every night). Which is all to say that when I read blogs that are oh-so-proud of starting phonics with their 2-year-olds I sigh and click away. It's tempting, it's an easy way to "prove" my devotion as a mother, it makes for nice boasting, but it's just neither age-appropriate nor beneficial in any way in the long term (trust me, I didn't read until I was 11. And I find myself quite sufficiently literate and educated. And JD didn't even learn the Roman alphabet until middle school ... Of course, that may be why I find the Montessori/Waldorf child-directed learning quite so appealing. The standard Waldorf line is that some children are ready to read at 4 or 5 or 6, but all children within normal developmental bounds should be ready by 7, so what's the rush? Children before age 7 should be busy working on physical development and imaginative play and social skills).
So, any suggestions on good parenting/child development books? Mostly looking for either a good outline of age-appropriate developmental stages or suggestions for toddler/preschool activities. My #1 pick at the moment is still First Art for the toddler set. Although it does leave me dreaming about warm, summer days when we can play outside on the sidewalk ...
Final book review: Adventures in Tandem Nursing. Put simply: I really like this book. It is by far the least judgmental book I have read about breastfeeding. It probably helps a lot that the author herself weaned her toddler, then unweaned her, then worked hard to set very clear limits on nursing which worked for both of them. (Aside: My other favorite breastfeeding book is Nursing Mother, Working Mother because it actually tackles the real challenges of breastfeeding rather than using rose-tinted glasses to paint a picture of non-stop-Rafael-Madonna-style-bliss. It also has a really good chapter on the real benefits of breastfeeding for baby and mother, which I keep trying to get my in-laws to skim ... of course, still a lost cause). Even if tandem nursing is not your issue, I think that sections of Adventures in Tandem Nursing would be a good read. It's in my going-to-doctors-appointments-and-need-light-reading pile so I have been reading it during NSTs and waiting for acupuncture and in the midwife's office and it's interesting to see the reactions. I am still entirely undecided about what I'm going to do, but I'd rather read up now while I have time. The midwife I saw this week suggested letting the fusspot have colostrum because it's kind-of yucky as a way to discourage her from unweaning. The big, famous doctor I saw this week also said not to worry about letting the fusspot jump in to nursing from Day 1, although he's pretty sure that she's going to want to nurse for a good while.
Speaking of big, famous doctors, I saw the one who supervises practically every non-homebirth midwife in NYC last week. He is super-relaxed and poked fun of my bi-weekly NSTs, reassured me that this baby will not be 10 lbs (currently about 6.5 lbs, estimated at delivery 8) and generally pronounced me safe to deliver (despite that .3 margin on my iron levels). But much more importantly when I asked him about my insomnia and 'stomaches' overnight, he concurred that it was almost certainly 'false labor' (new motto: all contractions are productive. all contractions are productive) and quipped that he'd be happy to write me a prescription for ambi.en if I'd like it. I asked about the slightly-more-natural alternative, and he totally ok'd a glass of red wine before bed every night. So at least there's that.
So, we have no TV. We have no TV because I just don't see us having the self-control not to watch too much TV if we had one, and I also don't think it's realistic to ask a babysitter not to turn on a TV if it's sitting in the living room. JD manages to watch almost everything he wants on his computer, and we live above a bar (aka 'the basement' which JD has been known to run down to visit in his flip flops and pjs) with several large TVs for big sporting events. But the fusspot was sick this week and as you all know I've been a bit lethargic recently (say the past 10 months or so ...) so I decided that desperate times call for desperate measures and this was the perfect opportunity for her first DVD at home. And we live in a building with 4 other 2-year-olds so I sent out an e-mail asking our neighbors if I could borrow a DVD. And the first 3 to write back were fully apologetic ... but they didn't have any childrens videos in their apartments. Luckily #4 did and the fusspot happily settled into a glazed-eye state in front of Barney's Farm while I desperately tried to both cook lunch and do some work.
Oh, and when JD came home on Wednesday night I finally got the belly/toddler shot I've been wanting (25 months, 36 weeks):
But it turns out that 25 months is a bit of an odd place developmentally. I have been trying to relax more, and part of that for me is reading parenting books. My recent late night reads (i.e. past 1 am. Totally laughed when a WAHM complained about staying up till midnight to get her work done. I don't go to bed before 1 am. Ever. Especially not if I want to see my husband for more than 20 minutes a day) include Origins: How the 9 Months Before Birth Shape the Rest of our Lives (so much press about this book, which makes all sorts of claims about the important of pre-natal environment for health and later development. Skip it. It is science dumbed down to nothing. So disappointing) and You are Your Child's First Teacher: What Parents Can do With and for their Children from Birth to Age Six and Adventures in Tandem Nursing (highly, highly recommend it, quite possibly the best breastfeeding book out there even for those who are not going to tandem nurse).
Ok, I'll admit it. I love You are Your Child's First Teacher. It's a delightful mix of developmental stages and suggestions for developmentally-appropriate activities and games and completely kooky Steiner-inspired suggestions (i.e. Waldorf education). For example, it quite seriously suggests painting your nursery green or brown because newborns are still "descending from another world" and those colors will help them become grounded on earth. Of course, because it has such absurd propositions (plus toddlers communing with angels and babies who are sad because they are imitating the sad expressions on their dolls faces ...) it's easy to just skip over the dire advice on how to balance work and parenting ("Quit your job") and the firm pronouncement that men are best seen as financial support services for loving, devoted (presumably large-breasted and barefoot) mothers. What the book does an excellent job of is outlining age-appropriate development and suggesting activities/toys to encourage creative, independent play (all the usual suggestions about no toy boxes and limiting the number of toys and lots of craft activities and natural objects. Oh, how I have been considering this online class about playful learning spaces. JD just mumbles about 4 people in 600 square feet and ignores me :-)).
What I would really like to find is a slightly-less kooky book to give to JD to read. I was raised by very-hippie parents and went to a lab school and can entirely see the benefit of hours spent playing dress-up or huge baskets of blocks and dinosaurs, but I sometimes forget that JD had none of those activities as a child (although he certainly also didn't have a TV and was surrounded by books). This morning we left the fusspot with her grandparents (finally!) and spent a good 4 hours out alone, mostly talking about finances and parenting. And it brought into relief just how little JD knows about age-appropriate development (and also how open he is to my crazy ideas). And while he was rather skeptical of some of my claims about the importance of both physical development and imaginative play (for the record, at just 2 the fusspot loves her dress-up clothes which mostly consist of funny hats and scarves from goodwill at this point, although she doesn't have the imagination to play with them alone. They mostly come out on playdates), having family friends over tonight did a good deal to sell my argument. Last week our neighbors landed up in a snow-related-canceled-school-day-no-childcare dilemma and sent their 5 and 8 year old to our apartment on about an hour's notice (sadly the fusspot was at daycare and missed the big kids). I was busy and tired and did absolutely nothing to prepare and exceedingly little to entertain them, mostly reclining on the couch and offering suggestions. And this sister/brother pair happily played for over an hour with the fusspot's toddler toys. The little girl set up an elaborate wedding party in a castle using blocks and stuffed animals and board books as building material, and the little boy collected things with wheels from the fusspot's shelf and set up a racing course complete with evil-villains and daring jumps. In contrast, my in-laws had some family friends over for dinner tonight. The 5 and 9 year old brother/sister pair played for about a half hour before melting down in a huge fight and settling in front of the TV for the rest of the evening, despite multiple age-appropriate toys being set up for them (board games, books, craft supplies). Needless to say one set of kids have no TV and live in a tiny apartment, while the other set live in a huge house in the suburbs (and thus all playdates are carefully scheduled with an adult along) with a 'home movie theater'-sized TV. Of course, both are charming and well-behaved and this is not meant to be a critique of anyone else's parenting choices, it's just about what I want to do with the fusspot.
Of course, what I also really don't want to do is to put any extra academic pressure on the fusspot. I am truly horrified by the amount of (almost entirely useless) homework that our daycare provider's 5 year old daughter receives every afternoon. I see quite a bit of it because it is just absurd enough that her immigrant mother can't help her with it (i.e. she had to draw a picture of a hedgehog recently. You can live happily in the U.S. for over a decade and get 2 advanced degrees without needing that particular word) and so when I pick the fusspot up I am often asked to look over her homework. In the first place, it is awful that this 5-year-old is not allowed to go outside and play until her homework is done, and that often takes an hour or more of foot-dragging (oh, and she leaves for school at 7:15 am. It's a long day for a 5 year old). The worksheets are boring and repetitive and way too hard for any kid that age to do alone, so they are largely a test of whether there is an involved parent home every afternoon to help. I presumed that this must be a brand new teacher and suggested that Y. go complain to the principal, but she assured me that this classroom is in line with the other ones (the other 5-year old at daycare also has quite a lot of homework but I'm not asked to look over it because his parents do every night). Which is all to say that when I read blogs that are oh-so-proud of starting phonics with their 2-year-olds I sigh and click away. It's tempting, it's an easy way to "prove" my devotion as a mother, it makes for nice boasting, but it's just neither age-appropriate nor beneficial in any way in the long term (trust me, I didn't read until I was 11. And I find myself quite sufficiently literate and educated. And JD didn't even learn the Roman alphabet until middle school ... Of course, that may be why I find the Montessori/Waldorf child-directed learning quite so appealing. The standard Waldorf line is that some children are ready to read at 4 or 5 or 6, but all children within normal developmental bounds should be ready by 7, so what's the rush? Children before age 7 should be busy working on physical development and imaginative play and social skills).
So, any suggestions on good parenting/child development books? Mostly looking for either a good outline of age-appropriate developmental stages or suggestions for toddler/preschool activities. My #1 pick at the moment is still First Art for the toddler set. Although it does leave me dreaming about warm, summer days when we can play outside on the sidewalk ...
Final book review: Adventures in Tandem Nursing. Put simply: I really like this book. It is by far the least judgmental book I have read about breastfeeding. It probably helps a lot that the author herself weaned her toddler, then unweaned her, then worked hard to set very clear limits on nursing which worked for both of them. (Aside: My other favorite breastfeeding book is Nursing Mother, Working Mother because it actually tackles the real challenges of breastfeeding rather than using rose-tinted glasses to paint a picture of non-stop-Rafael-Madonna-style-bliss. It also has a really good chapter on the real benefits of breastfeeding for baby and mother, which I keep trying to get my in-laws to skim ... of course, still a lost cause). Even if tandem nursing is not your issue, I think that sections of Adventures in Tandem Nursing would be a good read. It's in my going-to-doctors-appointments-and-need-light-reading pile so I have been reading it during NSTs and waiting for acupuncture and in the midwife's office and it's interesting to see the reactions. I am still entirely undecided about what I'm going to do, but I'd rather read up now while I have time. The midwife I saw this week suggested letting the fusspot have colostrum because it's kind-of yucky as a way to discourage her from unweaning. The big, famous doctor I saw this week also said not to worry about letting the fusspot jump in to nursing from Day 1, although he's pretty sure that she's going to want to nurse for a good while.
Speaking of big, famous doctors, I saw the one who supervises practically every non-homebirth midwife in NYC last week. He is super-relaxed and poked fun of my bi-weekly NSTs, reassured me that this baby will not be 10 lbs (currently about 6.5 lbs, estimated at delivery 8) and generally pronounced me safe to deliver (despite that .3 margin on my iron levels). But much more importantly when I asked him about my insomnia and 'stomaches' overnight, he concurred that it was almost certainly 'false labor' (new motto: all contractions are productive. all contractions are productive) and quipped that he'd be happy to write me a prescription for ambi.en if I'd like it. I asked about the slightly-more-natural alternative, and he totally ok'd a glass of red wine before bed every night. So at least there's that.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Called that one
Have been out of commission for a couple of days due to the fusspot's illness. There were nice aspects: the long naps together on the couch (and rather funny to watch a 25 lb toddler try to make herself comfortable around 36 weeks of bump), a few selectively canceled appointments that I was none too loathe to miss, as well as some most unexpected frustrations including the fusspot choosing my one afternoon nap time yesterday as the time to 'explore' the contents of her diaper and just maybe smear them on her face, the crib, the walls ... beats me why. Also my husband managing to spill either motrin or tylenol on every piece of furniture we own. Also beats me why.
Of course, for all that I have been trying to stay "in the moment" and just get over the inconvenience of a minor virus which seems to not have escalated to anything too drastic (we did visit the pediatrician and may do so again tomorrow) it certainly doesn't help my stress level and the list of must-finish-pre-baby-or-miss-my-luxurious-two-weeks-sans-work-post-partum. So here's to hoping that she is much recovered in the morning.
Of course, for all that I have been trying to stay "in the moment" and just get over the inconvenience of a minor virus which seems to not have escalated to anything too drastic (we did visit the pediatrician and may do so again tomorrow) it certainly doesn't help my stress level and the list of must-finish-pre-baby-or-miss-my-luxurious-two-weeks-sans-work-post-partum. So here's to hoping that she is much recovered in the morning.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sometimes I shouldn't read blogs ...
It's 4 am. I'm on the couch listening to the fusspot cough. Shouldn't be a big deal except that I just read 2 blog posts about toddlers who had to be rushed to the hospital for breathing issues. And while the fusspot was her normal, active self for most of the day she also had several distinctly unusual and inflated meltdowns over little things like not being let out of the stroller or having a second cookie confiscated. I really hope that she's better in the morning.
In more entertaining medical news, we yet again learn that Dr. Google is only as sophisticated as the user. I have spent the last 2 weeks googling some variation of "arthritis in pregnancy" despite JD's weak assurances that they probably aren't all that linked given that one is a degenerative disease associated with age ... See I've been waking up with my hands clenched and in pain and having a good deal of trouble getting them to work either early in the morning (did I mention that a large part of my work right now is data entry?) or late at night (trying to finish up a baby quilt. Nothing 1m x 1m should take this long ...). So I kept on googling arthritis, until a friend quietly suggested that the correct term might be "carpal tunnel." So yeah, count me in for excruciating carpal tunnel, although thankfully when it's pregnancy related it is supposed to clear up shortly post-partum.
In more entertaining medical news, we yet again learn that Dr. Google is only as sophisticated as the user. I have spent the last 2 weeks googling some variation of "arthritis in pregnancy" despite JD's weak assurances that they probably aren't all that linked given that one is a degenerative disease associated with age ... See I've been waking up with my hands clenched and in pain and having a good deal of trouble getting them to work either early in the morning (did I mention that a large part of my work right now is data entry?) or late at night (trying to finish up a baby quilt. Nothing 1m x 1m should take this long ...). So I kept on googling arthritis, until a friend quietly suggested that the correct term might be "carpal tunnel." So yeah, count me in for excruciating carpal tunnel, although thankfully when it's pregnancy related it is supposed to clear up shortly post-partum.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
An update of sorts
Thank you all for your kind comments. I think that what really freaked me out is that I was feeling so overwhelmed and miserable, and in truth I was just coming off of a rather relaxed weekend where JD was home (and not working) for most of it, where we ran through a large segment of our to-do list, etc. We even had two quasi-dates, meaning that the fusspot fell asleep while we were out running errands and I immediately made JD drop everything and go drink hot chocolate with me. We do live a wild life, after all.
Which really makes me think that this is probably something hormonal. I am not actually dealing with anything more than usual, and neither am I feeling all that physically unwell (despite a few weird late pg symptoms like arthritis-style pain in my hands (but no swelling?), swelling elsewhere, insomnia, nothing too critical). I did schedule a counseling appointment for later this week, and also acupuncture again (which handily comes with a massage before the whole needles-in-my-feet part).
And I am really trying to focus on the positive: a good NST yesterday made even better by a free-super-sized Jamba Juice afterwards, lovely snow this morning followed by warm weather in the afternoon, just about to take the fusspot off to her "dance" class ...
In fact, the only major thing left on our pre-baby list is to find a name. And project which seems to have stalled completely. More on that later, but as per the request of my non-blogging but endlessly supportive Texas reader, a belly shot at 34 weeks. I'm pretty sure this counts as "showing":
Which really makes me think that this is probably something hormonal. I am not actually dealing with anything more than usual, and neither am I feeling all that physically unwell (despite a few weird late pg symptoms like arthritis-style pain in my hands (but no swelling?), swelling elsewhere, insomnia, nothing too critical). I did schedule a counseling appointment for later this week, and also acupuncture again (which handily comes with a massage before the whole needles-in-my-feet part).
And I am really trying to focus on the positive: a good NST yesterday made even better by a free-super-sized Jamba Juice afterwards, lovely snow this morning followed by warm weather in the afternoon, just about to take the fusspot off to her "dance" class ...
In fact, the only major thing left on our pre-baby list is to find a name. And project which seems to have stalled completely. More on that later, but as per the request of my non-blogging but endlessly supportive Texas reader, a belly shot at 34 weeks. I'm pretty sure this counts as "showing":
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Another doom and gloom post
A dear internet-friend wrote a long post about her children's non-sleep habit (you know I love you) and I was thinking about that and how my usual advice is simply: if it works for you, it's fine. So if you're kids aren't sleeping, or aren't sleeping alone, or whatnot, and you're ok with it, fine. After all, I nursed the fusspot to sleep for every nap and bedtime until almost 17 months ...
Which is all to preface the fact that it has struck me that my life is quite simply not working for me at the moment. Not only did I snap twice at JD this weekend (and yes, I consider asking where we store the collander sufficient provocation. The man prides himself on doing a lot around the house and it was exactly where it belongs on the shelf ...) but I also snapped at the fusspot which honestly never, ever happens. It's not that I'm a perfect mother by any means and I certainly get grumpy or pissed at her, but I don't snap. That's in part because of my childhood experiences, but also possibly because of the years I spent babysitting in the big city and convinced that everyone mother had a "nanny cam" on and was watching it selectively (and some of them did, and were, and someday I'll tell the story of what happened the one and only time I ever seriously hurt a child ... hurt a child such that there were 4 distinct finger marks and 1 thumb bruise exactly my size on her arm, but needless to say it all worked out for the best and scared me far more than the kid).
So yeah, not doing well. Let's just summarize: not eating well/enough (in all seriousness, who loses weight in the middle of the 3rd trimester?), not sleeping well (and waking up far more from stress than any physical ailment), not exercising enough, stressed about work, worried that the stress will affect the baby, the usual. And I just don't feel like I am getting the support I need and I'm done trying to pretend that I am wonder-woman so that no one sees the cracks. Especially so that JD doesn't see the cracks (he has currently fled to the basement bar to watch football, a sport he has absolutely no interest in, to escape my wrath).
One thing that needs to be improved is the fusspot's bedtime routine. She's great with the routine, she cheerfully stands next to her crib when I say bedtime all ready to be placed in her crib, lies down ... and then proceeds to fuss/yell/stand up for a good 1-2 hours every night. Our current routine involves staying with her for about a half hour, then leaving her with a CD and the door open. Except that our apartment is tiny so I feel like I can't even take a phone call until she's asleep, and also her CD player broke (blah blah blah: my in-laws bought her one for her birthday but refused to pay shipping so it's at their house and JD and I are too cheap to buy her another one when she has one ... blah blah blah) so I leave my computer in her room and can't work for that time, or I go sit in her room and have her yell at me. So in a fit of anger tonight I decided we would just suffer through another attempt at CIO (it does work for other people, after all), confiscated my computer, shut the door, and let her scream ... for about 2 minutes until JD rescued her and brought her to our bed. See, I put the fusspot to sleep 6 nights a week when I am alone, but neither JD nor my in-laws see any point in the oft-praised "consistency" and they simply sit with her until she's totally asleep. Even if it takes 3 hours. Which you can do when you only put the baby to sleep one night a week. So yeah, beats me what to do. Even with music she can take 2 hours to fall asleep, and she obviously yells more at me than other people (which is normal, I know). But this weekend she's been sleeping in until 9 am or so, which makes me think that she's really not getting enough sleep during the week when we have to wake her to take her to daycare. So there's that.
And then there's the whole supposed-to-be-working-full-time despite only 30 hours of daycare plus 3 doctors appointments this week and feeling exhausted ... same old, same old. Honestly, this week between the 3 doctors appointments, 2 evening work events from 6-9 pm, and possibly not taking the fusspot to daycare on Friday at all, I have no idea how I could even get in 20 hours of work during daylight hours. Let alone wanting to spend a half hour every morning cooking some type of reasonable dinner so that we don't just rely on scrambled eggs, bagels, or boxed mac and cheese for dinner every night.
I know plenty of people will say things like "Of course it's hard" and the like, but the real problem is that I always handle all of this and more (I mean, at least JD is in the same city at the moment), and I do it with a good deal more grace than I am at the moment. The real problem is that my calm seems to be gone, and I am so incredibly stressed that I can't fall asleep at night even when I'm exhausted. So I am going to see if I can get in to counseling tomorrow, but other than that not entirely sure what to do. I really wish I could schedule an hour long walk at some point in the afternoon, but it's quite simply too cold to keep the fusspot in her stroller that long given that she currently refuses to wear gloves, it's too cold and not all that safe for me to go alone by the time JD gets home at 10 or 11 pm, and I really don't have the time during the day ...
I am worried about making it through the next month without making both JD and the fusspot stressed. I am worried about really bonding with/enjoying a newborn when I am quite this stressed. I am worried about the stress affecting the baby, or sending me into pre-term labor (the fusspot was already early, so everyone I talk to keeps reminding me that it could be "any day" and I know that 34.5 weeks would be ok eventually, but it's hardly ideal). I need to figure out a way to eat real food, to get some exercise despite the weather (and no, I have no gym membership at the moment and don't really see this as a reasonable time to join), to get work done during the day, and to relax. I am sticking with my motto for the year, which is that I alone am responsible for my own happiness, and I'm hardly imagining that any of my long-time friends will somehow leap to my aid, so that's out.
But at least my dear readers assured me last week that this was an ok place to vent.
Which is all to preface the fact that it has struck me that my life is quite simply not working for me at the moment. Not only did I snap twice at JD this weekend (and yes, I consider asking where we store the collander sufficient provocation. The man prides himself on doing a lot around the house and it was exactly where it belongs on the shelf ...) but I also snapped at the fusspot which honestly never, ever happens. It's not that I'm a perfect mother by any means and I certainly get grumpy or pissed at her, but I don't snap. That's in part because of my childhood experiences, but also possibly because of the years I spent babysitting in the big city and convinced that everyone mother had a "nanny cam" on and was watching it selectively (and some of them did, and were, and someday I'll tell the story of what happened the one and only time I ever seriously hurt a child ... hurt a child such that there were 4 distinct finger marks and 1 thumb bruise exactly my size on her arm, but needless to say it all worked out for the best and scared me far more than the kid).
So yeah, not doing well. Let's just summarize: not eating well/enough (in all seriousness, who loses weight in the middle of the 3rd trimester?), not sleeping well (and waking up far more from stress than any physical ailment), not exercising enough, stressed about work, worried that the stress will affect the baby, the usual. And I just don't feel like I am getting the support I need and I'm done trying to pretend that I am wonder-woman so that no one sees the cracks. Especially so that JD doesn't see the cracks (he has currently fled to the basement bar to watch football, a sport he has absolutely no interest in, to escape my wrath).
One thing that needs to be improved is the fusspot's bedtime routine. She's great with the routine, she cheerfully stands next to her crib when I say bedtime all ready to be placed in her crib, lies down ... and then proceeds to fuss/yell/stand up for a good 1-2 hours every night. Our current routine involves staying with her for about a half hour, then leaving her with a CD and the door open. Except that our apartment is tiny so I feel like I can't even take a phone call until she's asleep, and also her CD player broke (blah blah blah: my in-laws bought her one for her birthday but refused to pay shipping so it's at their house and JD and I are too cheap to buy her another one when she has one ... blah blah blah) so I leave my computer in her room and can't work for that time, or I go sit in her room and have her yell at me. So in a fit of anger tonight I decided we would just suffer through another attempt at CIO (it does work for other people, after all), confiscated my computer, shut the door, and let her scream ... for about 2 minutes until JD rescued her and brought her to our bed. See, I put the fusspot to sleep 6 nights a week when I am alone, but neither JD nor my in-laws see any point in the oft-praised "consistency" and they simply sit with her until she's totally asleep. Even if it takes 3 hours. Which you can do when you only put the baby to sleep one night a week. So yeah, beats me what to do. Even with music she can take 2 hours to fall asleep, and she obviously yells more at me than other people (which is normal, I know). But this weekend she's been sleeping in until 9 am or so, which makes me think that she's really not getting enough sleep during the week when we have to wake her to take her to daycare. So there's that.
And then there's the whole supposed-to-be-working-full-time despite only 30 hours of daycare plus 3 doctors appointments this week and feeling exhausted ... same old, same old. Honestly, this week between the 3 doctors appointments, 2 evening work events from 6-9 pm, and possibly not taking the fusspot to daycare on Friday at all, I have no idea how I could even get in 20 hours of work during daylight hours. Let alone wanting to spend a half hour every morning cooking some type of reasonable dinner so that we don't just rely on scrambled eggs, bagels, or boxed mac and cheese for dinner every night.
I know plenty of people will say things like "Of course it's hard" and the like, but the real problem is that I always handle all of this and more (I mean, at least JD is in the same city at the moment), and I do it with a good deal more grace than I am at the moment. The real problem is that my calm seems to be gone, and I am so incredibly stressed that I can't fall asleep at night even when I'm exhausted. So I am going to see if I can get in to counseling tomorrow, but other than that not entirely sure what to do. I really wish I could schedule an hour long walk at some point in the afternoon, but it's quite simply too cold to keep the fusspot in her stroller that long given that she currently refuses to wear gloves, it's too cold and not all that safe for me to go alone by the time JD gets home at 10 or 11 pm, and I really don't have the time during the day ...
I am worried about making it through the next month without making both JD and the fusspot stressed. I am worried about really bonding with/enjoying a newborn when I am quite this stressed. I am worried about the stress affecting the baby, or sending me into pre-term labor (the fusspot was already early, so everyone I talk to keeps reminding me that it could be "any day" and I know that 34.5 weeks would be ok eventually, but it's hardly ideal). I need to figure out a way to eat real food, to get some exercise despite the weather (and no, I have no gym membership at the moment and don't really see this as a reasonable time to join), to get work done during the day, and to relax. I am sticking with my motto for the year, which is that I alone am responsible for my own happiness, and I'm hardly imagining that any of my long-time friends will somehow leap to my aid, so that's out.
But at least my dear readers assured me last week that this was an ok place to vent.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
And now an entirely inappropriate topic for this blog
in very little letters: birth control.
I actually do think that in my large, stressed, grumbly state at the moment I am probably going to make a better decision regarding this particular issue than in the delightful post-partum amnesia about childbirth and pregnancy, while snuggling a spoiled-milk-smelling newborn (and yes, in my fantasy the fusspot is playing alone quietly on the living room floor).
And hence I will be upfront about the problem: I am leaning towards ... well ... the nada option. And JD is too, although for quite different reasons.
To review: my chances of a "unassisted" conception are rather low. When we first started this project I was told by 3 separate clinics that my chances were "practically zero." I have after all ovulated at most three times in my life, and most likely only twice. And with 2 pregnancies thus far, that both makes me the luckiest infertile in the world and also not particularly likely to turn into an urban myth.
However, pregnancy does change things for some infertiles, and I seem to fall in that incredible category. So while the fusspot took multiple canceled cycles and injectables, the bargain baby took very little intervention. And there are even decent theories about why that was. To start, my diagnosis is severe PCOs and also a highly unusual clinically high co.rti.sol but not Cus.hi.ng's syndrome or a tumor (oh yes, I did have more than one MRI as part of my diagnosis). Sharp and rapid weight loss seems to help a lot with the first factor for me, and nursing with the second. With the fusspot, my clinic put me on a crazy no carb (and I do mean no carb) diet, aka the "egg diet," which made me lose at least 10 lbs a month. The theory was that rapid weight loss can improve egg quality, and whenever my weight dropped too low I was supposed to take a month off to "bulk up" again. Such fun (for the record, I am plump but not overweight so there was actually a fear of my getting too skinny if I lost more than 30 lbs. My BMI was in the 'normal' range when we started all of the fun). With the bargain baby I lost 30 lbs in a month thanks to a travel bug and while starting to wean, and then got pregnant exactly 6 days after going in-patient to treat aforementioned bug. And as for the other hormonal issue, all signs indicate that nursing actually helps. A lot.
In short, it actually seems possible that I could conceive sans fertility clinic in the future if I both manage to nurse and drop a lot of weight rapidly.
And while I logically know that responsible working adults engage in "family planning" of some sort, 99% of me wants to shout "NOT FAIR!" It's just not fair to ask the infertile woman who wants more children, and honestly could arrange her life to both maintain employment and support them in an emergency, to use birth control. And since JD is entirely uninterested in being in charge of this issue himself and also convinced that is is unnecessary (not only due to the above mentioned medical issues but also the usual "issues" surrounding co-sleeping and nursing. All you nursing women who have a normal se.x drive, we do envy you), the burden falls on me. And a tiny, irresponsible little voice asks: what if this is our chance? What if being responsible adults makes us miss out on that one miniscule window of opportunity that might just be out there? But then the responsible part of me asks how I could possibly handle doing this again next year when I am so terribly tired and grumpy and overwhelmed at the moment (not to mention still severely anemic and likely to only get worse ...), and more importantly if "a miracle" could possibly be fair to either my husband or the fusspot?
And hence, I ask you, dear internet friends/psychos, how you made your decision whatever it might have been?
I actually do think that in my large, stressed, grumbly state at the moment I am probably going to make a better decision regarding this particular issue than in the delightful post-partum amnesia about childbirth and pregnancy, while snuggling a spoiled-milk-smelling newborn (and yes, in my fantasy the fusspot is playing alone quietly on the living room floor).
And hence I will be upfront about the problem: I am leaning towards ... well ... the nada option. And JD is too, although for quite different reasons.
To review: my chances of a "unassisted" conception are rather low. When we first started this project I was told by 3 separate clinics that my chances were "practically zero." I have after all ovulated at most three times in my life, and most likely only twice. And with 2 pregnancies thus far, that both makes me the luckiest infertile in the world and also not particularly likely to turn into an urban myth.
However, pregnancy does change things for some infertiles, and I seem to fall in that incredible category. So while the fusspot took multiple canceled cycles and injectables, the bargain baby took very little intervention. And there are even decent theories about why that was. To start, my diagnosis is severe PCOs and also a highly unusual clinically high co.rti.sol but not Cus.hi.ng's syndrome or a tumor (oh yes, I did have more than one MRI as part of my diagnosis). Sharp and rapid weight loss seems to help a lot with the first factor for me, and nursing with the second. With the fusspot, my clinic put me on a crazy no carb (and I do mean no carb) diet, aka the "egg diet," which made me lose at least 10 lbs a month. The theory was that rapid weight loss can improve egg quality, and whenever my weight dropped too low I was supposed to take a month off to "bulk up" again. Such fun (for the record, I am plump but not overweight so there was actually a fear of my getting too skinny if I lost more than 30 lbs. My BMI was in the 'normal' range when we started all of the fun). With the bargain baby I lost 30 lbs in a month thanks to a travel bug and while starting to wean, and then got pregnant exactly 6 days after going in-patient to treat aforementioned bug. And as for the other hormonal issue, all signs indicate that nursing actually helps. A lot.
In short, it actually seems possible that I could conceive sans fertility clinic in the future if I both manage to nurse and drop a lot of weight rapidly.
And while I logically know that responsible working adults engage in "family planning" of some sort, 99% of me wants to shout "NOT FAIR!" It's just not fair to ask the infertile woman who wants more children, and honestly could arrange her life to both maintain employment and support them in an emergency, to use birth control. And since JD is entirely uninterested in being in charge of this issue himself and also convinced that is is unnecessary (not only due to the above mentioned medical issues but also the usual "issues" surrounding co-sleeping and nursing. All you nursing women who have a normal se.x drive, we do envy you), the burden falls on me. And a tiny, irresponsible little voice asks: what if this is our chance? What if being responsible adults makes us miss out on that one miniscule window of opportunity that might just be out there? But then the responsible part of me asks how I could possibly handle doing this again next year when I am so terribly tired and grumpy and overwhelmed at the moment (not to mention still severely anemic and likely to only get worse ...), and more importantly if "a miracle" could possibly be fair to either my husband or the fusspot?
And hence, I ask you, dear internet friends/psychos, how you made your decision whatever it might have been?
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