Sometimes my life just makes me laugh. Yesterday night JD breezes into the apartment after work and asks a question that has clearly been on his mind for the full walk home (about 1.5 blocks): do you think it's reasonable if we plan to pay back X amount of dollars towards my student loans next year?
Me, desperately trying to find a healthy, low-sugar snack looks up and snaps: "Well, the truth is I don't actually know how much you make, or will make next year. And I don't think you know how much I make, so beats me." And then we both look at each other and crack up.
It turns out despite all our wishes to be mature and financially responsible and such, we're not quite there. Yes, I had a ballpark idea of what he makes, but I'd never asked for an exact amount, let alone calculated post-tax income. And I know he has a lot of student debt, but I'd never really calculated the repayment rate. And he was off by quite a bit on my income. I'd like to chalk our ignorance up to idealism, but honestly, when do you ask someone (even someone you've been in a committed relationship with for 5 years) exactly how much money they make?
We lived exceedingly well for the three years we were both full-time graduate students: fancy dinners for special occasions, theater tickets several times a year, lengthy and exotic vacations but we both had roommates, we own not a single piece of furniture that we purchased new, a 17 year old car, shared cell phone plan, the little signs of not having a steady income. And I don't actually see us changing any of that in the next few years: we're sticking with our 320 square foot apartment, we're getting rid of the 17 year old car so we don't have to pay car insurance, we have no cable or monthly expenses except for our utilities bill and netflix. I've just never felt like we needed to set a formal budget because we are both quite conservative with our speeding and we really have no regular big expenses (We are after all the couple who will be sharing 3 different hotel rooms with the single guys at weddings this fall just to save a little money. That's JD, me, the bump and 2 single guys in a hotel room - super romantic). The one thing we agreed upon after getting married is that neither of us would spend more than $100 shopping without consulting each other, and thus far that has worked very well.
It's just that suddenly JD started calculating the real costs of raising a child into our future budget, and he decided that if we don't pay back the debt in the next 2 years* that we will probably land up keeping part of it for the next 10-15 years since the cost of the child keep going up. Which is a rather scary thought. Especially because we have no idea what unplanned expenses might hit is in the next 2 years - a short NICU stay or even a minor illness could land up costing us a large part of my income. It's nice to know that we have the ability to pay back the debt so quickly, even if it would mean really restricting our discretionary spending for the next couple of years. And I'm sure I'll be able to adjust, it's just a bit challenging at this particular moment when I've outgrown all the clothes I already own and there are any number of practical, useful items I would like to buy before the end of December. So I'm working on adjusting.
* And yes, 2 years is a random signifier for the time when we will probably either land up back at the IF center or on the adoption path.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Pink and blue
This is a fascinating NYT's article: "A Lab is set to test the gender of some female athletes." It's not so much the description of the tests or whether they are in fact fair, but the fact that all of the past cases of women being disqualified from the Olympics for being 'men' are cases where the woman in question had no idea of her chromosomal abnormalities. Although my sister is an XX, one of her early fertility doctors described her as closer to an XXY and that description makes a lot of sense given her medical issues. Of all the barage of tests done on me from age 11 to age 27, I remember being most terrified of the chromosomal results (did I mention I have had the most extensive genetic and hormonal testing any of my doctors have seen? Basically every new endocrinologist or RE I saw, either because I had moved or I didn't feel confident in the standard of care, decided to rule out a few more super-rare syndromes, and voila, 6 inches of medical files on just my IF).
What bothers me is given that we know that gender-sex assignments can be complex and given how openly our particular community embraces homosexual, transexual or other types of queer children, why is the entire marketing world still focused on pink and blue?
Which brings me to my current dilemma: being cheap vs. being a feminist. [Digression: I had a fabulous baby shower last week (9 guests including one toddler, a potluck dinner, invite called for hors d'oeuvres at 6:30 pm and nobody left until 11 pm, sweet, thoughtful presents) but I'm realizing that I probably won't have another (which is totally fine with me - I had one, and it was great) and that as the first of our close friends to have kids, we won't be getting that many baby presents.] [Digression #2: Everything is cheaper in City X than NYC. Much, much cheaper. We are trying to buy things that we know we will need here, especially since JD's work is paying for movers for us, which really is a joke since we told them to expect 5-6 boxes and 1 disassembled crib.] So, the question is, should I snap up a few of these fabulous dirt-cheap cra.ig.s.list baby clothes offers (you know, the type that read gallon sized bag of 3-9 mos. old girls clothing, half with the tags still on, $25) knowing that the clothes will be 90% pink, frilly, and covered with slogans like 'girls are like sunshine' and 'princess in charge' or should I fork over a good deal more money and time to try and find more gender-neutral clothing?*
*I know it doesn't really matter at all. Of course the wonderbaby won't remember her infant clothing, but then again, how am I going to have credibility telling my friends and in-laws that we want her to have trucks and trains and puzzles in addition to princess clothing if she's dressed all in pink? And if we start with an all-pink wardrobe, when do we transition to something more normal?
What bothers me is given that we know that gender-sex assignments can be complex and given how openly our particular community embraces homosexual, transexual or other types of queer children, why is the entire marketing world still focused on pink and blue?
Which brings me to my current dilemma: being cheap vs. being a feminist. [Digression: I had a fabulous baby shower last week (9 guests including one toddler, a potluck dinner, invite called for hors d'oeuvres at 6:30 pm and nobody left until 11 pm, sweet, thoughtful presents) but I'm realizing that I probably won't have another (which is totally fine with me - I had one, and it was great) and that as the first of our close friends to have kids, we won't be getting that many baby presents.] [Digression #2: Everything is cheaper in City X than NYC. Much, much cheaper. We are trying to buy things that we know we will need here, especially since JD's work is paying for movers for us, which really is a joke since we told them to expect 5-6 boxes and 1 disassembled crib.] So, the question is, should I snap up a few of these fabulous dirt-cheap cra.ig.s.list baby clothes offers (you know, the type that read gallon sized bag of 3-9 mos. old girls clothing, half with the tags still on, $25) knowing that the clothes will be 90% pink, frilly, and covered with slogans like 'girls are like sunshine' and 'princess in charge' or should I fork over a good deal more money and time to try and find more gender-neutral clothing?*
*I know it doesn't really matter at all. Of course the wonderbaby won't remember her infant clothing, but then again, how am I going to have credibility telling my friends and in-laws that we want her to have trucks and trains and puzzles in addition to princess clothing if she's dressed all in pink? And if we start with an all-pink wardrobe, when do we transition to something more normal?
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Oh my gosh Oh my gosh
I found it. the one. I am so very excited. I am of course waiting for another 2 shipments of bras, and I would love it to have more than one style to wear, but for now this is it:
The Fancee Free Underwire Nursing Bra
It meets all my criteria:
- Size 34G
- Underwire
- T-shirt bra (i.e. no lace, so I can wear it under clothes I actually own)
- No lines
- Nursing bra (I wasn't so much looking for a nursing bra, but it does mean that I'll be able to buy a lot more of these. I would have felt extravagant buying 4 non-nursing bras for the next 4 months, but given that I'll be traveling for 3.5 weeks it certainly will be more convenient. I am however still puzzled as to the purpose of 'nursing bras' in my size. When you are a G cup, having that most br.ea.st tumble through the opening just doesn't seem practical or modest by anyone's standard - it really looks no different than if I just unhooked the back. But maybe I'll discover the convenience later).
The store is birthandbaby.com (thank you internets). It's a very small store which means that several items I ordered were on backorder, but they also called to check if I wanted to change colors in order to get items earlier (um, yes!) and told me to call back after I received the first two bras and they would adjust the rest of my order. Great customer service.
In other, much less appropriate bre.as.t news, I have discovered a new and odd feature of my expanding upper-mid-body. My breasts are now a truly incredible 23" circumference at the base (as measured very roughly by me with the aid of a ribbon just now). And since I don't have much feeling in them I don't really notice how I stuff them into my current ill-fitting bras ... which means that I can at times have my nipples pointing in completely opposite directions:
i.e. one stuck on my armpit, the other pointing straight up at my chin
I'd never noticed before because it never showed, but now, when I walk into a cold room or through the freezer section of the supermarket or even into the elevator in our apartment building, JD will occasionally give me a rather perturbed look and whisper 'Can't you fix that?' I have to admit, it is an odd effect. I really wish I could post a photo to show you how disconcerting it is, but sadly my slim remnants of modesty don't allow it (but maybe I'll accidentally post one in the next belly shot).
The Fancee Free Underwire Nursing Bra
It meets all my criteria:
- Size 34G
- Underwire
- T-shirt bra (i.e. no lace, so I can wear it under clothes I actually own)
- No lines
- Nursing bra (I wasn't so much looking for a nursing bra, but it does mean that I'll be able to buy a lot more of these. I would have felt extravagant buying 4 non-nursing bras for the next 4 months, but given that I'll be traveling for 3.5 weeks it certainly will be more convenient. I am however still puzzled as to the purpose of 'nursing bras' in my size. When you are a G cup, having that most br.ea.st tumble through the opening just doesn't seem practical or modest by anyone's standard - it really looks no different than if I just unhooked the back. But maybe I'll discover the convenience later).
The store is birthandbaby.com (thank you internets). It's a very small store which means that several items I ordered were on backorder, but they also called to check if I wanted to change colors in order to get items earlier (um, yes!) and told me to call back after I received the first two bras and they would adjust the rest of my order. Great customer service.
In other, much less appropriate bre.as.t news, I have discovered a new and odd feature of my expanding upper-mid-body. My breasts are now a truly incredible 23" circumference at the base (as measured very roughly by me with the aid of a ribbon just now). And since I don't have much feeling in them I don't really notice how I stuff them into my current ill-fitting bras ... which means that I can at times have my nipples pointing in completely opposite directions:
i.e. one stuck on my armpit, the other pointing straight up at my chin
I'd never noticed before because it never showed, but now, when I walk into a cold room or through the freezer section of the supermarket or even into the elevator in our apartment building, JD will occasionally give me a rather perturbed look and whisper 'Can't you fix that?' I have to admit, it is an odd effect. I really wish I could post a photo to show you how disconcerting it is, but sadly my slim remnants of modesty don't allow it (but maybe I'll accidentally post one in the next belly shot).
Monday, July 28, 2008
201st Post
I started this blog in January. To be precise, JD had to set up the template for me, and then I made him promise not to look at it without my permission. And then I set to writing as the neighbor's newborn screamed through the bedroom walls (he's now 8 months old). It seems like a very long time ago in terms of infertility.
I realized one little thing from the beginning of our TTC experience. We never got that magical moment of throwing away the bcps and waiting with baited breath for a BFP. Yes, I stopped taking the pills Sept. 1. And at our very first appointment with RE #2 in City X he told me to immediately go back on them. Since I have been 100% anovulatory for at least the past 15 years (with frequent periods of giving up bcps for up to 6 months to see if my body would do anything at all), he was more worried about my risk of ovarian cancer (pretty high, for other reasons) and other issues like thick lining which come from not cycling, and since he put me on a round of bcps before and between every cycle, he said it was better to stay on them. That left me just one month to 'try things naturally' and we definitely did our best, despite living 1000 miles apart. I only remember the month so specifically because on ere of Rosh Hashanah last year JD quipped that he wasn't objecting, but he just wanted to point out that we were 9 months to the day from our wedding date so this might not be the best possible conception date, and I told him I couldn't care less about the inconvenience. And then a week later we were back on pills and off to the pharmacy to get our drugs.
I was thinking about the TTC process after our weekend visit to friends of JD's in Atlanta. But first, a very important warning to any and all blog readers I may at some point meet in IRL: JD and I are a bit restless, we get bored easily, and we love to travel. DO NOT invite us to come visit unless you really want us to visit because we will show up. Even, say, when you happen to be full term.
Yup. I had a very lovely weekend staying at the apartment of a woman who is currently full term and just waiting for her body to decide the moment is right. And she is a super-woman to the highest degree. The bed was made for us when we arrived on Friday night, breakfast, a note and keys were on the kitchen counter, and tickets had been purchased to the museums we wanted to visit. Did I mention she's still running 10 miles a day? Seriously (and with the permission of her high-risk ob).
And since she seemed to utterly calm I just presumed that I was in the presence of a woman who had had a totally natural, easy conception at the moment of her choice and was now happily preparing for the next stage (JD and her husband are close, I have never spent that much time around this woman).
Except there were a few weird little things that sent up my snoopiest-red flags. Like the fact that all of the endless shower presents were piled in the kitchen and the nursery was full of boxes and completely unfinished. Or the fact that someone very, very close to this woman had a baby a few months ago and there wasn't a single photo of the baby in the apartment (think someone really, really close, like, say, a twin sister). And then on Saturday night she mentioned going to the ob/gyn for an u/s every week. I must have seemed surprised by the every week u/s visit because she told me that they are repeat m/c. Three loses towards the end of the 1st trimester and no identifiable problem. It was a bizarre moment since they were at our wedding and obviously know about our IF treatments and I had no idea that she had been suffering through all of that. I presume she had close friends she talked to about it, but I don't know. She certainly never mentioned it to any of JD's friends because they are a pretty close group and it would have circulated. And it turns out that this very close friend of hers who had a baby just happened to have said child within a week of one of her due dates, so no wonder it was so hard. I can't even imagine dealing with that. My sister is infertile but she never, ever got a positive. There was never a moment when she had to call and tell us that the good news had gone bad. It was just bad news month after month after month punctuated by surgeries and recovery periods. JD didn't understand why I was so blown away by her news, but I really was.
I guess I've been thinking a lot about the damage IF did to my faith in my body, which wasn't particularly high to start with. And I do not want to say 'If I have a baby' any more, I want to say when. I'm halfway through this pregnancy and I want to enjoy the rest. Superwoman was asked several times over the weekend about her due date and the gender and names, and she happily and politely responded to all questions (including ones about her age, marital status, I mean really - it's a bump, not a sign that says: I don't expect any privacy). And on several questions she happily pointed out that I also had a bump (she claims to deflect the interrogation not because mine is currently much less noticeable thanks to the incredibly-bountiful-breast-growth), but I tried to be just as friendly and cheerful.
And it's possible that even my subconscious got the message. I don't know if the dream was a result of my new positive earth-mother-outlook or the persistent weekend talk about strollers and cribs and moving abroad (they might move to Europe too - yay!), but I had my first baby dream since we started treatments. The very first dream in which I had a real, live baby in tow. In this case, I happened to have said (very quiet, very well-behaved, need I add) child in tow as I went from synagogue to synagogue looking for my friends on some rather important holiday (we actually do this occasionally in the neighborhood I live in, I think it comes with the territory of being young and thus not full members of any one community). So there we have it. And I woke up feeling quite good - I didn't drop or neglect or abuse said magical child, and all seemed to be going well.
Oh, and also, I really need to refocus on my work. A little bump is not a reasonable excuse for not finishing all my work this summer. I have an important paper to finish in the next 2.5 weeks in addition to packing the apartment, driving up to NYC, finishing my thank-you notes (including from my delightful shower, but more on that another day), and a number of grant application essays. Should be busy.
I realized one little thing from the beginning of our TTC experience. We never got that magical moment of throwing away the bcps and waiting with baited breath for a BFP. Yes, I stopped taking the pills Sept. 1. And at our very first appointment with RE #2 in City X he told me to immediately go back on them. Since I have been 100% anovulatory for at least the past 15 years (with frequent periods of giving up bcps for up to 6 months to see if my body would do anything at all), he was more worried about my risk of ovarian cancer (pretty high, for other reasons) and other issues like thick lining which come from not cycling, and since he put me on a round of bcps before and between every cycle, he said it was better to stay on them. That left me just one month to 'try things naturally' and we definitely did our best, despite living 1000 miles apart. I only remember the month so specifically because on ere of Rosh Hashanah last year JD quipped that he wasn't objecting, but he just wanted to point out that we were 9 months to the day from our wedding date so this might not be the best possible conception date, and I told him I couldn't care less about the inconvenience. And then a week later we were back on pills and off to the pharmacy to get our drugs.
I was thinking about the TTC process after our weekend visit to friends of JD's in Atlanta. But first, a very important warning to any and all blog readers I may at some point meet in IRL: JD and I are a bit restless, we get bored easily, and we love to travel. DO NOT invite us to come visit unless you really want us to visit because we will show up. Even, say, when you happen to be full term.
Yup. I had a very lovely weekend staying at the apartment of a woman who is currently full term and just waiting for her body to decide the moment is right. And she is a super-woman to the highest degree. The bed was made for us when we arrived on Friday night, breakfast, a note and keys were on the kitchen counter, and tickets had been purchased to the museums we wanted to visit. Did I mention she's still running 10 miles a day? Seriously (and with the permission of her high-risk ob).
And since she seemed to utterly calm I just presumed that I was in the presence of a woman who had had a totally natural, easy conception at the moment of her choice and was now happily preparing for the next stage (JD and her husband are close, I have never spent that much time around this woman).
Except there were a few weird little things that sent up my snoopiest-red flags. Like the fact that all of the endless shower presents were piled in the kitchen and the nursery was full of boxes and completely unfinished. Or the fact that someone very, very close to this woman had a baby a few months ago and there wasn't a single photo of the baby in the apartment (think someone really, really close, like, say, a twin sister). And then on Saturday night she mentioned going to the ob/gyn for an u/s every week. I must have seemed surprised by the every week u/s visit because she told me that they are repeat m/c. Three loses towards the end of the 1st trimester and no identifiable problem. It was a bizarre moment since they were at our wedding and obviously know about our IF treatments and I had no idea that she had been suffering through all of that. I presume she had close friends she talked to about it, but I don't know. She certainly never mentioned it to any of JD's friends because they are a pretty close group and it would have circulated. And it turns out that this very close friend of hers who had a baby just happened to have said child within a week of one of her due dates, so no wonder it was so hard. I can't even imagine dealing with that. My sister is infertile but she never, ever got a positive. There was never a moment when she had to call and tell us that the good news had gone bad. It was just bad news month after month after month punctuated by surgeries and recovery periods. JD didn't understand why I was so blown away by her news, but I really was.
I guess I've been thinking a lot about the damage IF did to my faith in my body, which wasn't particularly high to start with. And I do not want to say 'If I have a baby' any more, I want to say when. I'm halfway through this pregnancy and I want to enjoy the rest. Superwoman was asked several times over the weekend about her due date and the gender and names, and she happily and politely responded to all questions (including ones about her age, marital status, I mean really - it's a bump, not a sign that says: I don't expect any privacy). And on several questions she happily pointed out that I also had a bump (she claims to deflect the interrogation not because mine is currently much less noticeable thanks to the incredibly-bountiful-breast-growth), but I tried to be just as friendly and cheerful.
And it's possible that even my subconscious got the message. I don't know if the dream was a result of my new positive earth-mother-outlook or the persistent weekend talk about strollers and cribs and moving abroad (they might move to Europe too - yay!), but I had my first baby dream since we started treatments. The very first dream in which I had a real, live baby in tow. In this case, I happened to have said (very quiet, very well-behaved, need I add) child in tow as I went from synagogue to synagogue looking for my friends on some rather important holiday (we actually do this occasionally in the neighborhood I live in, I think it comes with the territory of being young and thus not full members of any one community). So there we have it. And I woke up feeling quite good - I didn't drop or neglect or abuse said magical child, and all seemed to be going well.
Oh, and also, I really need to refocus on my work. A little bump is not a reasonable excuse for not finishing all my work this summer. I have an important paper to finish in the next 2.5 weeks in addition to packing the apartment, driving up to NYC, finishing my thank-you notes (including from my delightful shower, but more on that another day), and a number of grant application essays. Should be busy.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Exhale
Everything is fine. 19 weeks. Heartbeat 145. Up 10 lbs from a reasonable starting point (up 16 lbs from my awful-no-carb-diet).
The good news of course comes after I woke up twice in the middle of the night from nightmares that I was bleeding. Very vivid nightmares. In one I was with my friend C. at the MOMA and I started gushing blood and I remember sitting in a stall crying and pleading with the woman next to me to give me a pad. Great, huh?
JD ran interference with Nurse Awful, who asked again exactly what I was doing in for an appointment so soon. The NP was of course as friendly and bubbly as could be. They haven't even looked at my anatomy scan results yet (from 16.5 weeks) so she has no idea if I have an anterior placenta or not, but will let me know sometime.
I am of course anemic (11, I think) so they gave me some prescription iron tablets. I suppose it wouldn't have been a big deal to wait another 3 weeks to start the iron, but I did that lab work 2 weeks ago so 5 weeks total would have been a tad bit long to wait to tell me ... And, the weird feeling of someone pushing pins into my bellybutton from the inside was not kicking (thank goodness! I was not looking forward to any more of that). It was my abdominal muscles ripping apart, something I failed to read about in any of my books. NP says it's totally normal.
In summary, the office visit wasn't nearly as bad as expected. Of course, I do find it slightly perturbing that at 19 weeks I have yet to see a doctor at this practice (The nurses explanation: she has a lot of c-sections to do, doesn't make me feel much better). But, I am now ready to let me deeply-submerged-inner-earth-mother take over for the rest of the pregnancy. And to help with that transition, barring any medical disasters in the next 3 weeks, all of my future care will be with a NYC midwife.
The good news of course comes after I woke up twice in the middle of the night from nightmares that I was bleeding. Very vivid nightmares. In one I was with my friend C. at the MOMA and I started gushing blood and I remember sitting in a stall crying and pleading with the woman next to me to give me a pad. Great, huh?
JD ran interference with Nurse Awful, who asked again exactly what I was doing in for an appointment so soon. The NP was of course as friendly and bubbly as could be. They haven't even looked at my anatomy scan results yet (from 16.5 weeks) so she has no idea if I have an anterior placenta or not, but will let me know sometime.
I am of course anemic (11, I think) so they gave me some prescription iron tablets. I suppose it wouldn't have been a big deal to wait another 3 weeks to start the iron, but I did that lab work 2 weeks ago so 5 weeks total would have been a tad bit long to wait to tell me ... And, the weird feeling of someone pushing pins into my bellybutton from the inside was not kicking (thank goodness! I was not looking forward to any more of that). It was my abdominal muscles ripping apart, something I failed to read about in any of my books. NP says it's totally normal.
In summary, the office visit wasn't nearly as bad as expected. Of course, I do find it slightly perturbing that at 19 weeks I have yet to see a doctor at this practice (The nurses explanation: she has a lot of c-sections to do, doesn't make me feel much better). But, I am now ready to let me deeply-submerged-inner-earth-mother take over for the rest of the pregnancy. And to help with that transition, barring any medical disasters in the next 3 weeks, all of my future care will be with a NYC midwife.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
I caved
I realized it wasn't worth beating myself up over: I want a dopplering and a weigh-in (nope, we don't own a scale) and I don't want to wait until August 5th. Oh, and my sister arrives at 7 am on August 5th for a 3-day visit and I don't really want to bring her to an ob/gyn appointment (my sister is barren). [And also, my next midwife visit is August 10th with a GTT, but they don't need to know about that]. So I just called the appointments line and asked if they could move my appointment up. The woman very nicely moved it up a week, and when I asked if they had anything earlier, she moved it up to this Thursday. Fabulous.
Then she asked why. I explained that my last visit was not a 'well visit' and I wasn't comfortable moving my monitoring back a full 4-weeks because of an emergency visit at 4:35 pm on July 3rd. I also explained I have yet to receive the lab results and I'm very nervous. She asked if I wanted to be transferred over to the nurses' line and I explained that no, I couldn't possibly deal with Ms. 3-ivfs-9-miscarriages-no-children-and-what-are-you-complaining-about? She apologized profusely, said she has no idea who in the office has had 9 miscarriages but she'd find my test results (sidenote: really? This woman has shared her reproductive history with my at least 4 times? Is it just me she's so very comfortable sharing with?).
And then she transferred me right over to you-know-who who lectured me about how they don't have time to call with test results for every obsessive patient. And how my insurance probably won't cover this visit because it's 'so soon' after my last visit. On that, I call B.S. of the first degree. My insurance has no strict cap on ob/gyn visits, they certainly aren't going to penalize me for going in for a suspected (in retrospect I think real) bladder infection. And honestly, since they don't even have an ultrasound machine, I'm happy to pay out of pocket for a $300 office visit if it makes me feel better. Really. I don't consider this being a self-centered obsessive patient, I really think that I'm busy advocating for my health and my fetus' (yes, certainly a bit more obsessively than necessary, but I'd rather lean that direction).
So the end result: I have an appointment on Thursday (before my shower, thank goodness. I was slightly dreading having to glow about my belly when honestly, it's been shrinking recently. Even JD has noted on several days that my belly is getting smaller. Way to make me feel like my body knows what it's doing). But of course I feel awfully guilty about it and I have no idea how I'm going to deal with Ms. 9-miscarriages in person. I will certainly write a letter to mail after I've moved, but I am honestly torn between being sure she's the biggest, least appropriate jerk nurse and feeling awful for her. But is it really my fault she's working in an ob/gyn clinic?
Final thought: I have high cor.ti.so.l. Really, really high. Even if there is absolutely nothing wrong with me, hearing a heartbeat will help my stress which has to help moderate the little part of my cor.ti.so.l level which comes from 'environmental stress.' I just don't want to have to feel guilty about a doctors visit.
Then she asked why. I explained that my last visit was not a 'well visit' and I wasn't comfortable moving my monitoring back a full 4-weeks because of an emergency visit at 4:35 pm on July 3rd. I also explained I have yet to receive the lab results and I'm very nervous. She asked if I wanted to be transferred over to the nurses' line and I explained that no, I couldn't possibly deal with Ms. 3-ivfs-9-miscarriages-no-children-and-what-are-you-complaining-about? She apologized profusely, said she has no idea who in the office has had 9 miscarriages but she'd find my test results (sidenote: really? This woman has shared her reproductive history with my at least 4 times? Is it just me she's so very comfortable sharing with?).
And then she transferred me right over to you-know-who who lectured me about how they don't have time to call with test results for every obsessive patient. And how my insurance probably won't cover this visit because it's 'so soon' after my last visit. On that, I call B.S. of the first degree. My insurance has no strict cap on ob/gyn visits, they certainly aren't going to penalize me for going in for a suspected (in retrospect I think real) bladder infection. And honestly, since they don't even have an ultrasound machine, I'm happy to pay out of pocket for a $300 office visit if it makes me feel better. Really. I don't consider this being a self-centered obsessive patient, I really think that I'm busy advocating for my health and my fetus' (yes, certainly a bit more obsessively than necessary, but I'd rather lean that direction).
So the end result: I have an appointment on Thursday (before my shower, thank goodness. I was slightly dreading having to glow about my belly when honestly, it's been shrinking recently. Even JD has noted on several days that my belly is getting smaller. Way to make me feel like my body knows what it's doing). But of course I feel awfully guilty about it and I have no idea how I'm going to deal with Ms. 9-miscarriages in person. I will certainly write a letter to mail after I've moved, but I am honestly torn between being sure she's the biggest, least appropriate jerk nurse and feeling awful for her. But is it really my fault she's working in an ob/gyn clinic?
Final thought: I have high cor.ti.so.l. Really, really high. Even if there is absolutely nothing wrong with me, hearing a heartbeat will help my stress which has to help moderate the little part of my cor.ti.so.l level which comes from 'environmental stress.' I just don't want to have to feel guilty about a doctors visit.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Thoughts from an evening at home
Packing is going much better than expected. For one thing, I realized yesterday night that every other time I have had to pack JD's stuff I came in to town with just a day or two to pack (JD is not able to pack. It is one of his largest failings, given our lifestyle. But I happen to be excellent at packing: suitcases, apartments, refrigerators, dishes, cars, just about anything). The other thing is that there is a lot of fun stuff hidden around the apartment in piles since we don't really have any furniture like a bureau of shelves to put stuff in. And yesterday night as we packed JD found at least 20 letters that I wrote him, and he reread them and got all caught up in them. I used to write him a letter every day I was traveling, and with 5 years of long-distance dating, that's a lot of letters sprinkled between piles of magazines, in his stack of bills, even under the laundry basket. Of course, I'm also a firm believer that quantity is more important than quality in letter-writing, so you have to read a good stack of the letters before you find anything particularly meaningful ...
In other entertaining JD news, I googled 34H bras as per Ms. J's comment and found a few interesting threads (and you should really read her blog - Mr. and Ms. J are finally bringing home their daughter in just under a week!). JD was looking over my shoulder and saw a comment from a woman who wrote she was a 32DDD and JD said "Wow, that's pretty small" which totally cracked me up.
And in other completely unrelated news, despite our lack of a 'nursery' per se the great baby-acquisition fest is continuing. JD and I went out with a very detailed mission on Sunday afternoon: to find the most perfect trash can for our cloth diapers. It needed to be as smell-proof as possible, have a lining pail which could be easily rinsed, fit a 13 gallon liner (from this store, I'm enthralled with all the new products designed to help with cloth diapers) a foot pedal ... and, of course, take up as little space as possible. Three stores later we found it. I think it's hysterical that our acquisitions are so entirely eclectic thus far:
- a used mini crib for us (no mattress)
- a very cheap used crib for my relatives since I'll be commuting (again no mattress)
- a very cheap used baby bjorn (not the recalled one)
- a used maclaren
- an expensive antique rocking chair
- one super-cute hipster-ish 0-3 mos. outfit ($5 at the consignment store)
- the perfect trash can
And since this post by now has no point or common thread, I'll end with the fabulous news: I'm having a baby shower! Um ... Thursday. It'll be JD's co-workers and their partners, so probably about 10 people. One of his coworkers is hosting it for us after hearing we might not have one, and I'm so excited. Not only will it be coed, but it's directly after work (something like 6-8 pm) so snack food and cocktails, and the poor couple hosting are also moving soon so they have packed their furniture, but it should be lots and lots of fun. I will definitely post afterwards.
In other entertaining JD news, I googled 34H bras as per Ms. J's comment and found a few interesting threads (and you should really read her blog - Mr. and Ms. J are finally bringing home their daughter in just under a week!). JD was looking over my shoulder and saw a comment from a woman who wrote she was a 32DDD and JD said "Wow, that's pretty small" which totally cracked me up.
And in other completely unrelated news, despite our lack of a 'nursery' per se the great baby-acquisition fest is continuing. JD and I went out with a very detailed mission on Sunday afternoon: to find the most perfect trash can for our cloth diapers. It needed to be as smell-proof as possible, have a lining pail which could be easily rinsed, fit a 13 gallon liner (from this store, I'm enthralled with all the new products designed to help with cloth diapers) a foot pedal ... and, of course, take up as little space as possible. Three stores later we found it. I think it's hysterical that our acquisitions are so entirely eclectic thus far:
- a used mini crib for us (no mattress)
- a very cheap used crib for my relatives since I'll be commuting (again no mattress)
- a very cheap used baby bjorn (not the recalled one)
- a used maclaren
- an expensive antique rocking chair
- one super-cute hipster-ish 0-3 mos. outfit ($5 at the consignment store)
- the perfect trash can
And since this post by now has no point or common thread, I'll end with the fabulous news: I'm having a baby shower! Um ... Thursday. It'll be JD's co-workers and their partners, so probably about 10 people. One of his coworkers is hosting it for us after hearing we might not have one, and I'm so excited. Not only will it be coed, but it's directly after work (something like 6-8 pm) so snack food and cocktails, and the poor couple hosting are also moving soon so they have packed their furniture, but it should be lots and lots of fun. I will definitely post afterwards.
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