You are currently browsing the monthly archive for October 2008.
Dear Embykins,
In 48 hours you will be in my arms (unless L&D has a flood of patients and we get pushed off the schedule).
I am decidedly overwhelmed by this fact. Excited, certainly, but also fearful and overwhelmed.
This has been an odd week. I have been scatterbrained, disorganized on a level I have never really experienced, and completely withdrawn. They say that women about to give birth do pull in on themselves and find their quiet places. I don’t know that I’ve found my quiet places, but I will say I’ve been distracted and very NOT focused on anything except things relating to you.
This week has been fairly quiet. Tuesday’s ATU appointment went smoothly, although my blood pressure was still a little on the high side (although not quite to pre-e levels).
On Wednesday, I met with the psychiatrist again. We decided on my anti-depressant (really, anti-anxiety) regimen post-partum. I’ll be trying Zoloft at a very low dose for a few weeks and then increase it to the next lowest dose for however long I need it. I’m hoping to be able to wean off it by six months at the latest. I know that week 2 through month 4 are the most dangerous, and it gives me comfort to know that along with the talk therapy (that you’ll be coming with me to for the short run) there will be measures in place to keep us both safe. I feel like with the little bit of medicated support, I’ll be able to deal with the fear and anxiety I feel about becoming a mom, about the lack of control I have in my new role, and my uncertainty at this major life change.
Your crib and bureau arrived yesterday. Your Dadi and Dada came right over and put the crib together, and then Daddy came home from work and helped with the bureau while I was at therapy. I had given them directions on how I thought I wanted things, but when I got home (your grandparents were gone, your Daddy had gone back to work to wrap up some things) I didn’t like how it looked and in a fit of pregnant hormonal insanity moved all the furniture around by myself. I’m sure Daddy would have yelled at me if he thought it would have done any good.
The nursery is almost complete, with the exception of Mommy’s new glider/recliner which should arrive in the next few weeks. Once it is in there, we have a bit of decorating to do and then it will be ready for you, not that you’ll be sleeping in there for some time. But it is a beautiful space, and one I’m so proud that we could provide for you.
As of today (Friday) my blood pressure has gone back down to well within normal range, which makes your Daddy and I very relieved. And while my body hasn’t done terribly much in the way of progressing towards labor, we were able to sweep my membranes today to try and get something going before tomorrow night’s dose of prostaglandin.
I wish I had something profound to say about all of this. I really don’t–all I can say is that despite the fear, the anxiety, the nerves is…I can’t wait to meet you. I want to hold you. I want to get on with this breastfeeding thing instead of reading about it. I want to count your toes, to hear what your cries sound like, to see your Daddy hold you, to share our life with you and make a new life as a family with a child.
Love,
Mommy
My brain is empty except for the idea that I’m having a baby in THREE days.
As in 96ish hours.
As in when I click on the local newspaper’s website, it lists activities going on in the city after she’s born.
As in these BH contractions will be leading somewhere soon
i am not nesting…I’m yawning profoundly.
Dear Emby
I’m pretty confused, kidlet. Do you want to come out or not?
The three trips to Labor and Delivery Triage, including the pre-eclampsia scare seem to indicate a certain desire on your part to make a jail break and get on with life on outside already. On the other hand my absolute lack of more than 1 contraction in something like 10 fetal non-stress tests and crappy 1 cm dilated cervix for the past 3 weeks seem to indicate that you are just fine and dandy and would like some more room service please.
Three trips, Emby. That’s a bit…MUCH…don’t you think? Last Tuesday it was the sharp stabby pains and the inability to keep down food. Friday it was the pre-eclampsia warning signs and need for testing. Yesterday you decided to fail a kick count and scare the crap out of your parents and then decided life was good again once Mommy got rehydrated by IV at the hospital. You do realize we’re going to be going there in 5 short days and you get to come out in 6, right? It’s all scheduled. So you don’t need to keep sending us there. I promise that Daddy and I know the way to the hospital, we know where L&D is, and we even know some of the nurses at this point.
So seriously…let Mommy stay home and get her stuff done this week. Just chill until Saturday, okay? I have some work to finish up, your crib needs delivering, my car needs to visit its doctor, and we have a few doctor’s visits of our own, including the one where I need to finish talking anti-depressants with a psychiatrist. Just chill out and I will send you all the room service and cool beverages you could possibly want.
Other than the 3 visits to L&D triage, last week only had two other noteworthy events.
1-We found your pediatrician. I hope you like her–we certainly did.
2-We finalized the purchase of your crib, which we loved so much we bought it from an out of state dealer and are paying an exorbitant amount of money to have it shipped to us in Boston.
Since you are scheduled to come out this coming weekend, I’ll probably write you again on Friday to tell you about your (hopefully less L&D Triage heavy) 38th and final week in utero.
Love you
Mommy
While today (Friday 10/24…I finished the entry after midnight) was my birthday, it did not excuse me from my weekly OB visit and one of my twice weekly ATU (antenatal testing unit) appointments. However, the husband and I went in expecting everything to go the way it always goes and then to go home and change before heading out to meet up with some friends for a low key celebration of my big day.
I woke up feeling kind of lousy, but I’ve been feeling lousy all week. The puking has returned, and today I also had a raging migraine. I still thought we’d make it out to our plans, but figured I might need a Tylenol or something if eating didn’t ease the headache.
Eating didn’t really help, but we were at the hospital for the appointment so I decided to get through the appointment before taking some Tylenol or maybe having a Coke to see if it might be caffeine withdrawal.
My blood pressure was high at the start of my ATU appointment. The non-stress test and biophysical profile were fine, so they took my pressure again. Still high.
My OB decides that she wants to see me first before sending me for bloodwork in L&D triage.
She doesn’t like what she sees, especially when I mention the other things I’m feeling like the nausea and the migraine. However, my blood pressure has gone down a bit in the 20 minutes since it was last taken…it’s still elevated for me, but below what is considered worrisome. So she decides to have me checked out further.
It is at this point that words and phrases like “pre-eclampsia” and “admit you” and “start the induction tonight” started getting thrown around, should my bloodwork come back positive.
I send out a text and email to my friends cancelling our plans. It will be several hours until we know for sure what’s going on, and by that point some people might already be heading into the city to meet up with us. I am still feeling like crap, and the idea of hanging out with 10+ friends is sounding less and less appealing.
We go to Labor and Delivery. It is my second time there this week. I didn’t mention the other trip, but the short version is that on Tuesday I was awakened with sharp stabbing pains that my OB’s nurse thought could be early labor. It turned out not to be early labor, but I was dehydrated and unable to keep down food, so I had to be rehydrated and given some anti-emetics (so I would stop puking) through an IV. I am less than thrilled to be there for the SEVENTH time this pregnancy.
They have to stick me twice to get enough blood to do all the tests, and it’s clear from the start that one of the sticks is going to leave a bruise to match the one on my hand from the IV on Tuesday.
My blood pressure is taken again. It’s not as high as it was in the ATU 4 hours ago, but it’s higher than it was in the OB’s office 3 hours ago. It’s not quite over the borderline of what they consider indicative of pre-e, but it’s close and it’s definitely high for me.
We wait for more than an hour, during which a doctor comes in and talks more about pre-e and how since I’m full term (37 weeks is full term; I’m 37 weeks and 4 days) if my tests come back positive, I should be mentally preparing myself to start the induction tonight and probably have Emby in the next 24 hours. I alternate between relief that she’ll finally be out, and stress because I have stuff planned that NEEDS to get done next week. I contemplate that 9 days earlier than planned isn’t THAT much in the grand scheme of things. I contemplate that if she’s born today or tomorrow that my birthday will NEVER be celebrated again (I’ll turn 40 the year she turns 10, etc) and admit to myself that I am selfish enough that I kind of want my birthday to be MY birthday, and that I’d prefer her birthday is another week…and especially if that by waiting the 9 days until her scheduled induction it’s also technically another MONTH than me. My mind blurs as it whips through all of these things over and over and over again as we wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Finally the tests come back.
They’re negative.
No baby today.
I am at once relieved and sad. I had begun to mentally saddle up for the main event. I’m kind of sick of L&D and it would be nice to just have the baby and get it over with at this point. But I’m also relieved because there is stuff next week that I really WANT done before Emby arrives.
However, just because my bloodwork is negative does not apparently mean I’m not in the earliest stages. I am told that I can go home tonight, but that I need to come back on Monday. Unless my migraine doesn’t go away or gets worse, or if I start to swell in my face/hands/feet, or I can’t keep food/liquids down, or I start to show any of the normal signs of labor…at which point I get to go back to L&D AGAIN.
I am torn because at this point I really don’t know what I’d prefer in my heart of hearts. All I do know is that I want her to be safe and healthy and that I want to be safe and healthy and for the doctors to do whatever it takes for that goal to be accomplished.
i will be 30 years old in 1 day, and Emby will be born in 10.
That’s pretty incredible to contemplate.
They say babies begin to show their personalities in the womb.
I’m willing to take up the gauntlet and make a few predictions about Emby based on what I’ve seen/experienced with her thus far (11 days until baby, if all goes as planned…hahaha, like THAT’LL happen).
My predictions about Emby…
1-That she will be active…interested in the world around her…doesn’t want to waste time facing inwards in a carrier. She’s been a super active in utero baby and I just have this “feeling” that she’s going to be very alert and interested in what’s going on around her.
2-Daddy’s girl…totally. She kicks and gets active whenever the husband talks to her….AND we can both sing his silly song to her and she’ll only respond to him. Of course, having married him, I get the appeal.
3-Stubborn. This is the child who, when we rushed to the hospital with bright red blood at 9 weeks, heartsick and certain that we were having a miscarriage again, had a strong heartbeat and was JUST FINE. This is also the child who when we went in for the in-depth heart ultrasound would only show her back no matter how many different positions they put me in, poked at her, and otherwise tried to convince her to show them something besides her damn spine already.
4-Wee bit of a drama queen/attention whore. Six times. I have been to Labor and Delivery Triage SIX times in the 33 or so weeks since the test read positive. This includes the trip with blood the day before I was scheduled to meet my OB, and instead got to meet her in L&D instead of her office. I have a feeling she will show up on 10/31 or 11/1 just to mess with my whole planned induction thing on 11/2. Attention whore? Has had over 20 ultrasounds at this point. Mostly because of my “high risk” label, but still. My insurance fucking hates me and my extremely expensive care.
5-Possible Caffeine Junkie. I went cold turkey on caffeine in pregnancy #1, and it did NO GOOD. So one of the things I was way relaxed about this time around was the whole soda consumption thing. I’d been pretty good about staying under the recommended caffeine limits…until this past week when water started tasting gross and all I want is soda soda and more diet soda. I’m not really going over the limit right now, but I’m definitely kissing up to the limit to the point of making out with it, and occasionally going a bit further than I’d planned. At this point, I’m a lot less concerned than I was when the precious neural tubes and ears and whatever were forming…she’s basically freeloading at this point. (Please note…SARCASM)
We shall see how right/wrong I am in a few weeks.
Dear Emby
Today I am 37 weeks pregnant and thusly, full term. You are free to exit the womb at any time up to 11/2, at which point we’re going in after you. Two weeks from today, little girl, you’ll be here on the outside, and we will be terrified and thrilled to have you here.
Week 36 was a blur of doctor’s appointments for Mommy and you. We are up to twice weekly Antenatal Testing appointments and weekly OB visits. Last week, I also had to squeeze in my last appointment before your birth with my Endocrinologist, and my third trimester eye screening (also because of the diabetes). Where I’m also back to therapy once a week, it made for quite the busy week…and a lot of parking fees at the hospital.
Last week we also saw some friends who got married over the summer, and they told us that they were trying for a baby. We found out at the end of the week that D is expecting, which means you’ll be around 7/8 months of age when her baby is born. Which is strange…because I can barely visualize you as a newborn, much less as a chubby-cheeked crawling (or whatever it is that you’ll be doing at 8 months old) baby.
Daddy and I decided to pursue the crib we liked best, even though it’s no longer being made (not because of safety issues–don’t worry!) which has required a LOT of phone calls, but we will hopefully have one in our posession (not physically but legally) by tonight. Then we’ll just need to wait for it to arrive and Daddy and Dada will put it together for you.
I am sorry to say that the Red Sox lost in game 7 of the ALCS. There is no chance of you catching them in the World Series this year, and the cute little Red Sox rattle ball that I wanted to buy you will have to wait for March, when spring training begins. Such is life, my dear, as you will learn.
I mostly packed our hospital bag, being sure to include a few things for you (your Obama onesie and your Miami Dolphins onesies as well as a going home outfit and a few blankets) and me. Daddy needs to pick out what he wants to bring.
I’ve also been resting and reading a lot, trying to enjoy these last few days where I’ll have the prolonged silence and energy to read for hours on end, or watch tv, or surf the internet. Not that I don’t believe I’ll do all three after you arrive, just not for the stretches of time that I am currently used to.
love you Embykins
Mom
Meeting a Pediatrician is an awful lot like an awkward first date. You want to like them. You want to be swept off your feet and hear violins…but you’re distrustful because you know they’re on their best behavior and want to impress you so you keep looking for their fatal flaws.
It’s enough to drive a Mommy crazy.
That doctor is too old. That doctor would push me to circumcise my son (if I had one). That one is too cautious about food allergies. That doctor is the wrong biological sex for the primary pediatrician for my daughter.
You’d think this would be easy. After all, we’re not interested in messing around with the vaccination schedule, which seems to be many people’s biggest stumbling block.
But it isn’t.
If I could conjure up a dream pediatrician, she would be my friend L. Who *IS* a pediatrician. Who can’t treat my daughter because of conflict of interest, damn it all to hell and back.
L is young. She is fairly freshly minted out of her residency, and as such is VERY up to date on the most current research and practices.
L is a skeptic at heart about the whole food allergy culture of fear. When we talked about food allergies, she said that after treating kids on both coasts in three major cities and one wealthy suburb, it seemed odd to her that the rate of “food allergies” diagnosis was particularly high for a specific area/socio-economic class near me. She mentioned the high number of false positives of RAST tests. She wondered aloud if some of these diagnoses were brought about by parents who read a lot, got freaked, demanded tests, and basically just beat on doctors until they got the diagnosis they wanted or got a (potentially false) positive RAST tests without actually testing the actual allergy. Having had some of these parents in my classrooms, I can attest that this isn’t actually out of the realm of the possible.
L has an AWESOME bedside manner. Not just good, but awesome. With adults as well as kids. She even has the patience to deal with me and I’m not even the mom of her patient. She will even point me towards resources to learn more about topics I’m interested in, and will even send me to conflicting reports. She explains why and what and how.
Since I can’t have her, I guess it’s easier to say what I do want…
-On the younger side. I wouldn’t rule out a pediatrician because of age, as long as I could see that they were definitely reading up on current research and staying on top of stuff. However, most doctors I tend to get along with are of an age that they could have been my babysitters if not my contemporaries. We tend to have similar values and cultural references.
-Pro-Breastfeeding, but not rabidly so. Someone who isn’t going to critique me if I hate it and want to stop. However, also pro-breastfeeding enough that they can provide support in terms of finding a lactation consultant, or have a nurse on staff who can help with latch issues etc.
-Neutral on circumcision-or at least wouldn’t recommend it as a matter of course. Knows that the AAP takes a neutral stance on it. Would understand that I personally am very anti-circumcision, as is my husband and that we would not take well to hearing it advised to us were our second child to be a boy.
-Pro-Vaccination, including Gardasil (this one hasn’t actually been an issue)
-Comfortable with the idea that we aren’t attachment parenting types. Will not give me advice consistent with the AP approach like advising me to use cloth diapers (unless the child had a medical reason to need them like a skin allergy) or baby wear or anything like that. I’ve met one pediatrician who was obviously an AP type and it annoyed me fairly quickly.
-Has a way to get ahold of them or another doctor after hours. I don’t want to go to an ER unless I really have to.
-Has at least one night a week with appointments on the later side. Because we’re near a big city, we’ve found plenty of practices with this, and it’s kind of nifty.
-Has electronic records and can do electronic prescriptions. Our PCP and my OB do this and it makes life SO MUCH easier than paper prescriptions and when multiple doctors need to see and add to records. A doctor who I could email non-emergency questions to would be a bonus (several doctors around here do that).
-Good beside manner for both me and my child. Understands that I’m the type of geek who will have already researched what is supposed to happen at an x-month well baby visit and will have questions about stuff. Who will be tolerant of the fact that I’ll get a second opinion if I get a diagnosis that concerns me. Who will talk to my kid and explain to her (once she’s old enough) what’s happening and why.
-Who is okay with prescribing my 11/12/13 year old birth control. This is a super controversial topic, but… I’ve had pregnant 13 year olds in my class…I don’t want one in my house. I would prefer that Emby not be sexually active until she’s 16/18/older but that may not be the case. Beyond that, she may need them for the same reason I did–excruciatingly irregular painful periods. I don’t want the pediatrician giving her shit for asking about it or having reservations about prescribing them. Yeah, this is a decade away, but it’s a values thing. Luckily I live in what is probably the most liberal state in the union so this hasn’t been a stumbling block for me yet.
-Is okay with my breastfeeding on anti-depressants. I haven’t asked anyone about this yet, so I don’t know how it will play out for me, but I’ve heard many pediatricians are very negative about this.
Maybe I won’t find the perfect match. Maybe I’ll find someone who looks good at first, but isn’t great in practice.
The thing I try to keep in perspective is that it’s not a permanent decision. I have great health insurance and I live near easily 30 pediatric practices in less than a half hour drive (probably more) so I can change dr’s as much as I want to/need to.
But it’s one of my first big decisions as a Mom, and I want to get it right.
For those of you who missed it…here is a clip from last night’s debate.
It’s the last few second where McCain says that the mother’s “health” (using airquotes) is an excuse of the extreme pro-abortion movement.
I knew McCain had an excellent rating from Right to Life. I knew he wasn’t pro-choice.
But I didn’t think he thought that people like Cecily should die rather than get a life-saving abortion. I didn’t know that he thinks that the life of the mother is less sacred than that of the unborn. I didn’t know that under his administration, the notion of a woman’s life was a punchline…something that deserved dismissive air quotes.
Yesterday was National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.
Yesterday I came very close to weeping reading Cecily’s post about her sons, and her loss. I wept as I thought about the loss of my own beloved Hope. I really began to cry when I think of all the wanted babies that we as humans have lost.
Some of those children were, like Cecily’s, lost because of a necessary late term abortion for the life of the mother. But McCain thinks that’s an excuse. That it’s a lie we “pro-abortion extremists” have come up with.
I’m not pro-abortion.
Abortion is a tragedy. I wish that we lived in a society where it was never necessary because mistakes and accidents with birth control never happen, where we were all educated about how to prevent pregnancy using birth control. and where rape and incest never occurs. But we don’t. Rape and incest occur every day. 1 in 6 women will be raped. There are horrible people that abuse the young children of their family, and sometimes abused girls get pregnant. Sometimes birth control isn’t used properly, or at all because the person doesn’t know how to use it correctly (bc pill–take it every day at the same time–or it loses it’s effectiveness–not everyone knows this). Sometimes accidents happen. Sometimes it’s the right choice.
McCain and Palin think that I shouldn’t have that choice. Even when it’s my life on the line.
Palin doesn’t think I deserve that choice even if I was raped. And the young woman in this ad talks about that far more eloquently than I could–this is a powerful ad.
I realize that neither McCain nor Palin give a rat’s ass about what I think because I would never have voted for them. I would never EVER vote for anyone who was anti-choice or anti-gay marriage…which pretty much means I’ll never vote Republican, so I’m of no interest to that party.
But if you’re undecided, and you ARE pro-choice….
Think long and hard about the stances of the two candidates.
Think long and hard about the fact that there are vital Supreme Court seats that will open up in the next 4 years
Think about the women in your family. Think about what you would want for them if they were 22 weeks pregnant, the baby wasn’t yet viable, and something went tragically wrong with the pregnancy. Would you want them to have access to a life saving procedure? Or would you want them to die in the operating room as the doctor tried to save the life of a baby who’s chances of living were almost non-existant, most likely losing them both?
And then vote for Obama on Nov 4th.
I posted last week about my fears surrounding PPD.
I’m happy to say I did something about.
The wheels were put into motion when I talked to my therapist. More acurately I broke down in tears in her office and confessed how scared I was. How I kept having these recurring awful thoughts about doing something horrible to my baby, and then turning that fear and horror on myself. That I have a plan to commit suicide rather than hurt my baby or to punish myself if I did.
I’m in tears just typing that.
I hate this. I hate that there’s something wrong with my body’s chemical makeup that I could ever think of hurting my child, or myself.
More to the point, I hate that I know I’m capable of hurting myself. I tried to commit suicide the first time when I was 12.
Twelve seems so young. But the right (wrong) confluence of events brought the world crashing down around me, and I broke. I had been getting my period on and off for a year, but it had just started getting regular, so for the first time I was having regular hormonal surges, which is often something that sets off depression in girls (especially consdering it runs in my family, putting me at higher than average risk). My grandmother, who was basically my mom, had died over the summer. The day before she went into the hospital, we’d gone shopping, and she’d kept mentioning that she was tired, and I kept begging for one more store, pushing her to keep going. Then she went into the hospital and never came out. The one time I saw her, it was after her operation (she’d had a brain tumor) and her physical appearance had terrified me to the point of shaking and breaking into tears and running out of the room. Then my grandfather moved to Maine. Then we moved to Maine two weeks into the school year.
It was all too much. I couldn’t handle things. I blamed myself for my grandmother’s death because I didn’t understand about brain tumors–I just knew that I had kept begging for more stores, then she went into the hospital, and then she’d never come out. I hated myself for not being strong enough to visit with her. It was incredibly hard to know we’d gotten the call that she’d died the night before I was going to get a second chance to see her.
The first time, it was pills. All that happened was I got sick, and I lied and said I had the flu.
The second time, it was Flintstone vitamins. Looking back I don’t know whether to laugh or cry that I decided to OD on Flinstone vitamins. I spent the night puking back a rainbow of fractured Barneys and Dinos and Wilmas and other miscellaneous characters.
The third time, I had a knife secreted away in my room. I kept taking it to my skin and flinching when it touched my skin, pulling my arm back quickly. I hated myself for not going through with it.
It was the fourth time that I got caught. I was in so much pain that I just wanted to feel physical pain. So at some point in the night I got up and went to the kitchen. I didn’t take the knife back to my room…I just wanted to make it stop hurting on the inside. I had the knife in one hand and was bracing my other arm on the counter when my mom walked in and caught me.
That was when I entered therapy.
I never actually tried to kill myself again.
That doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it. I don’t know if there’s been a point in my life since then that at the back of my head I haven’t had a plan. I don’t think about it every day, but when I’m depressed there’s ALWAYS a plan.
So I confessed. I asked for help. I admitted I need it. Even though she isn’t here yet.
My therapist went into action. She had me sign a consent form so she could talk to my OB. She ordered me to talk to my OB. She suggested that I ask for an evaluation as soon as possible after the baby is born so I can get whatever chemical help I might need. We’re upping the frequency with which I see her to once a week again, and we can do more if I want it. My husband will come to a meeting to learn more about PPD and how to help identify it and support me, as well as what to do should the need arise. I was told “we won’t let you do any of the things you’re scared of.”
Forty-eight hours after that confession I had to talk to my OB. When she came into the room she sat down and said “I’m really worried about you. Your therapist called me but we haven’t been able to touch base yet. Tell me what’s going on.” I had to go through it again, and again I was offered help and reassurance. It turns out my OB has a lot of experience with PPD, and had would’ve checked up on me about 1-2 weeks after delivery anyways. But with my history, she had the name and contact info of a psychiatrist for me to talk to before the end of our appointment. She shared that she had other patients who went back on anti-depressants the day after delivering, and that they and their babies were just fine. She also assured me that “we won’t let you do any of the things you’re scared of.”
I have a name and phone number of a psychiatrist. I’ll be calling her tomorrow to set up an appointment.
I have researched the safety of various anti-depressants, including their safety when breastfeeding, and I am comfortable with the idea of doing both after reading through Hale’s forum on anti-depressants. (Hale is the leading authority on medicine safety during nursing–his book is THE reference guide). However, I have also reached a point of peace with the idea of bottle feeding if it’s necessary due to drug interactions.
I like having a plan. I hate thinking about the worst, but the way to keep it from happening is to plan for it, and I will be more calm knowing what the courses of action are.
Because I am NOT going to hurt my baby.
Because I am NOT going to hurt myself.
If you, like me, are pregnant and have reason to fear you’re going to have PPD…be proactive, I beg you. The support is there…you just need to be brave enough to ask for it.
