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My posts are always about my new dilemma and "how will I make it?" But when it comes down to the end game, I seem to get through just by the skin of my teeth. Someone, a lot of someones, always look out for me, and I am really grateful. I still complain about EVERYTHING, as you all know, but I do want to state that for the record, I DO feel the love. Tonight I took castor oil. I have taken it while pregnant with Riley and Cole, and it didn't do anything, but clean me out....and that is actually its own reward. My third child, and I know how it goes down in the delivery room--how after that first really hard contraction, you really could care less who is staring at your lady business, you're just trying to get that baby out. And so, I know that there's a big chance that I could be pooping all over those people that are standing/watching/staring from that vantage point. That being said, I still do what I can to try to avoid it, you know? Not that I really know whether or not I have, and in my own mind, I like to think that in no way is it a possibility. But that's all I have, so I'm trying to take the proper precautions.
It's weird to think that this time next week, no matter what, Sydney will be home with us. Tomorrow at 2:00 is my next appt. and from there we will be able to kind of see where things will go as far as getting her out. I've been feeling like maybe my blood pressure is spiking again. Just a lot of headaches, nausea, and peppery vision--those black dots and such, you know? So maybe my Doctor will say we're just going to go ahead and take her. Wishful thinking, anyway. I'll let everyone know, in any case. Anyway, just keeping you up to date. Sydney's been a good listener so far, and stayed where she's needed to be. Now that it's all clear, lets see if we can get her out.
I've been tagged by Shauna, and I kind of put it off--just cause I've actually been busy since I've been off bed rest. Not TOO busy, mind you, but busy enough that I haven't been online all day long. Anyway, I'm here now, being a big girl, figuratively with making my own turkey, and literally with Sydney residing in my midsection. I'm going to stop rambling and let you know what I'm thankful for, using the letters of my name.
R: Riley, Cole, Jeff, and Sydney. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for them, seriously. I say it a lot, but it's hard for me to truly comprehend and express how much my little family means to me. Sometimes I catch fleeting glimpses, as I see Riley sketching or when I fix her hair, or watch her walk into school, and I see how beautiful she is. How it amazes me that at one time, she was where Sydney is, now. I watch Cole as he talks to me, learning how to read, and takes a great interest in letters and sounds and how they all work together. My heart swells and I can't imagine life without my baby boy. And Sydney keeps me up at night, and while I wish she'd just settle down and go to sleep, I'm satisfied to feel her moving; to know first hand that she's strong, and I get overly excited to meet her. Lastly, there's Jeff, and he's my absolute best friend. There's isn't anything I can't tell him, and above all, he makes me feel loved, and protected and cherished, and he does the same for the kids.
A: Abilities. I'm able to get up and walk, talk, bend, comprehend, read, love, listen, argue, and the list goes on and on. I'm so grateful for these things that I take for granted everyday. It would be cool to have a super power, or something that sets me apart from everyone else...but on the other hand, I see others that may not have every ability that I do right now, and I wonder at their strength and perseverance. I believe we all have our own challenges, and that some of us are stronger than others, as far as that's concerned. But I'm grateful for the abilities that I do have, that I can care for my babies and my husband.
I: Insecurities. I know this is an odd thing to be thankful for. But my insecurities keep me more open, I believe. Thankfully, they aren't as prominent as they were in my teenage years, and yes, they're still annoying and cliche a lot of the time, but in other ways, they help me. I want to be a great mom...not just for everyone else to say I am, but for my kids to look back and know that I really tried. I want to be a good wife. I want to keep a clean house and a loving home. I want to be attractive and fun to be around. I never want to be offensive, or hurtful. These are things I worry about daily. But they also keep me in line, in a way. My insecurities keep me from being too sure of myself, and too set in my own ways. I know that's a skewed way to look at it, but it's how I feel.
N: Nearness of friends and family through technology. I'm thankful that I can call, or text, or email, or visit most of who I need or want to. I believe that technology is a fabulous thing...I love my toys: Ipod, laptop, Cell phone, Camera, Media Players, etc. All these things help me stay "nearer" to my loved ones. Also, I'm more of a writer than a talker. (It's true--for those of you rolling your eyes). Texting and email are two things I don't think I could do without--or blogging. I appreciate being able to reach out to friends and family through my toys. If I had to depend solely on traveling, I'd never get to stay in touch with anyone.
E: Eating. This time of year, especially. But honestly, food is a celebration for me. I also have those "emotional eating" problems, but you gotta take the good with the bad. I love that my belly is always full, and so are the bellies of my children. How it would be to not be able to provide that for me and mine, is something I've never had to face, and I'm truly grateful for that. Also, my favorite get-togethers always involve food, and the companionship and happiness that go with it.
Y: Yes--the word. I'm thankful when I hear it, this means things are going well and working out. This means questions I've asked have been answered and things are set in motion. This means my thoughts are agreed with, or validated. This means someone has confided in me, and thinks of me as a worthwhile friend. This means my kids and my husband are okay and happy. Though all this isn't the true meaning of the word yes, this is how it affects me.
Anyway, I am thankful for all these things and so much more, I'm just limited by some letters. I'm thankful for today, and the meal I'll be sharing with Muff and Chris and my family, and for the happiness they all bring to my life. I hope all you have a very happy Thanksgiving, and know that my thoughts and well wishes are with you. May your bellies be full, and your conversation be captivating. Happy Thanksgiving!
I wanted to have this post done earlier, but so much happened yesterday, that I had to go to bed, as I was literally exhausted. So I apologize to all those that I may have thrown off schedule. (I know know this schedule thing to be true, because last week, as soon as I woke, even though I was confined to my bed, I checked email and blogs and continued to do so each hour. My situation may have been a bit extreme, but rest assured, I'm thinking of you all).
Anyway, if there were some sort of blog drum roll, this, for me, would be an occasion to use it.
Sydney is still packed very tightly away, and will be for the next um...6 days, at least. At my checkup, I hadn't dilated at all, which was good news, however, over the weekend I had some pretty painful contractions that didn't speed up or go anywhere, so I thought at least my body would recognize that hard work for what it was--exercises for cervix softening. But, no. Not at all. It looks like there's one thing I can honestly say about all my children that is the same; they just aren't going to come on their own. They prefer to have the proper budge, or they'll just stay where they are for the rest of their lives.
Now, if anyone would have told me this like, in the beginning or during this pregnancy, that I would be happy at the end to keep her right where she is, I would have laughed in their faces, and then posted about them, telling all that would listen how wrong and moronic they were. (And then probably about how I cried about it as well, because that's a huge staple in my day to day right now).
My appointment went like this....I went in, telling myself that I would NOT cry while the doctor was examining me. Not only was Jeff with me this time, but that just makes this uncomfortable situation worse, and I know this from previous experience. But I wasn't weepy or anything, because I'd just talked to the nurse and despite having sausage fingers and the occasional swelling over the weekend, my blood pressure was okay. She said that yeah, it was elevated, but at this stage of pregnancy, that's relatively normal, and not at scary levels, by any means. (Also, I had lost one pound. When I told Jeff this, he was "pleasantly surprised" for me, because he wanted me to be happy during the exam and such, but it was a sort of: "Well, yay, hon. Good for you", type response. What he didn't know was that I'd been reading about the pre-eclampsia stuff and another sign of it, besides everything else I've mentioned, is gaining about 2 or three pounds a week because your body keeps retaining water). Am I boring you yet? Get used to it. I'm sharing real life experience.
So, the doctor comes in and checks me. Says that the baby's still high, check. Says that I'm only dilated to a one, check. Says that my weight and blood pressure look good, and I asked about my urine, because last week he said that if the protein progressed to a two, he'd have to take Sydney this week. He looked at the chart and said that no protein was found this time. Jeff and I were so relieved. I'm a pretty pessimistic person. This news was my "best case scenario", completely. I asked about bed rest, and he said that yes, I can get up and do things--but that doesn't mean ANY heavy lifting, or marathon walks. I can pick my home up, though, and with the kids help, do laundry and wipe off counters and all the little things I complain about daily, but couldn't do for an entire week. And I seriously missed them.
Breaking it all down. I'm not on bed rest anymore. This really had me glowing yesterday, and strutting my pregnant stuff. I can do little things, but enough to do most of Thanksgiving dinner, and actually enjoy it. No DATS for me, but at this point, I'm okay with it--and, though he's a bit bummed, I'm sending Jeff. Sydney is still moving like she's going to rip her way out of me somehow, and I get the feeling she really is a big kid. Some of her stretches literally make me stop and gasp. But she's moving, and that's all I can ask for. I still have to "take it easy" whatever that means, until Sunday night. I told Jeff that Sunday, after 9:00pm, I'm going through this house like a whirlwind, cleaning and lifting and drinking as many Dt. Mt. Dews as I want. And if she doesn't come Sunday evening, which I am betting is the case, I have my next appt. Monday, at 2. So I'll definitely let you all know what's up.
I just have to thank people that came by...I won't mention all the names, because there are so many, and even ones that haven't physically come by, I've felt really taken care of by everyone's thoughts and calls and emails and everything. Though I've pouted and felt sorry for myself, I've been blessed with a great family, and great friends, and I want to take the time to own up to that. I've received offers and cards and texts and ice cream, and gifts and meals...Delicious meals that I just don't have the time or patience to make when I'm feeling my best. And it's all been a bit overwhelming, but not in a bad way, at all. Just emotionally. Sometimes it's hard to remember how much others love you, and will take care of you. Sometimes it's hard to accept those offers without feelings of guilt for putting them out, or maybe taking advantage. But either way, you all did so much for me and my family. So thank you. I love you, too. In a way, I now kind of feel guilty about not being on bed rest anymore. But sooo happy that I'm not. Anyway, like I said, at this point in time, usually I'm at my most miserable. But this last week showed me what it's like to experience something even worse--being scared. And I'm actually grateful for this experience, as sometimes I really lose sight of important stuff. The biggest lesson learned? That despite the difficulties others are having, whether it be with themselves or their families, or finances, or whatever, they still made time for me and mine. I'm truly grateful, and appreciative of the sacrifice of all your time and thoughts and acts of family love and friendship. Again, thanks so much.
First of all, I am technically OK, I think. I appreciate all the emails and calls and texts and well-wishes and offers of food, taking my children off my hands, and sympathy...cause you know I'm a total sucker for that. I will take all the offers very seriously...and if I need you, I will totally call. Right now I'm trying not to be a total wuss. I hate putting people out. But your thoughts and expressions were really heartfelt, and I wanted to say thank you all.
Jeff asked his HR rep. about the possibility of finagling some type of "getting insurance to kick in sooner" episode. (And not that I'm not naive or anything, but she DID say something about it to Jeff when he started his new job, so it's always been a hope--on the other hand, she also lost his W2 for over a month....so I had my doubts). No dice. I have to keep Sydney in me until December first, NO earlier, or we get nada. We've paid for her up to this point...the tests, the exams, the "how do you feels, and baby sounds healthys", and now it's a waiting game...to hopefully get her to stay put until at least two Sundays from now, at midnight. Keep your fingers crossed for me. Until that time, I'll be bed bound. And seeing as this is my second day, I know that I'm not going to handle this well. Bed rest is boring. Not drinking my daily Diet Mountain Dew is maddening, and missing out on all these things that I've seriously been looking forward to for the last month, is killing me. Plus, there's the fact that I'm even grouchier than usual because I'm feeling sorry for myself, and my kiddos deserve better. I'm going to try to be better, just for them, but I'm whining, too. A tiger can't change its stripes, right? Anyway, that's that for now. Just thought I'd fill you in.
Hope all is well in your lives...because stress and the crap that goes along with it, sucks. I know that a lot of you are dealing with stuff like this, and worse...and honestly, my heart goes out to you. So please just take my whining with a grain of salt, as I know that I'm a weak woman in the sense that when it's something out of the ordinary, I panic. But for those of you that deal daily with hardships and tears, I am thinking about you. You are in my prayers, and please know that though I'm lazy right now, I won't always be...and if help is needed, I'd be happy to oblige. If I were a better person, I wouldn't have to tell anyone that I was willing to help with stuff...but I know that because of my complaining, I have effectively created a picture of me being selfish and crass...and I'm not ALWAYS like that. Anyway, thanks again, and people, work on your blogs. I've got a lot of time with just me and my computer....and if you want to be extra nice to me, give me stuff to stalk--and comment on. Later dudes.
Okay. So I went to the doctor's office today. This post may get a little unsavory. So for my readers that are grossed out by my usual frankness, you may want to skip this one.
I've been feeling crappier than usual. This isn't too surprising to me, seeing as how I always feel crappy during pregnancy. I'm also a hypochondriac, so anything that seems out of the ordinary, to me, is dire straits. I mean, I can handle pain. I don't have a problem with needles or being poked and prodded, or tests or cuts, or really any of that stuff. (Also, I know I complain about the pain of exams, but that is all really in my head, and I know this...it's emotionally painful to me to know that someone that I really don't know is digging around in an area that I'm pretty protective of...and looking for signs of life. It's more of a "please don't look at me" feeling, rather than actual pain). I am, however, very concerned about the unknown...and symptoms that may match negative outcomes. It's a conundrum, I know, but I've told you before--not a lot about me is rational.
Anyway, lately I've been having what I thought were possible little contractions. Not that I would know, because I've never had one that hasn't been given to me, by Pitocin. Contractions, and labor, though they hurt, I know that this is what's expected to get the baby out, and so I deal. However, it's completely different to me when I'm in my bed, at night, worrying about the possibility of needing to go to the hospital, exactly two weeks before our insurance kicks in. This makes for some nasty nightmares.
So, while I've been having some unusual pain, I have been quite stoic, and just dealt with it; rationalizing that perhaps this is normal stuff, and I wouldn't know just cause it's never happened before. Also, these little so-called contractions, if that's what they were, would help to soften and open my cervix. Maybe making labor more of a natural issue for me, rather than one that has to be planned down to the last second, as with Riley and Cole.
Anyway, today I find out that despite my trying to be a "big girl" about the uncertainty, and the dizziness, and the overall fatigue that I get from EVERYTHING, I'm actually in the early stage of Preeclampsia. According to my urine test, I have a plus one in protein...and should it get any higher, the doctor told me he'll have to "take the baby" next week. By C-section? By just inducing? I don't know and he didn't say. He DID say to come into his office IMMEDIATELY should I feel rotten (and hello, I always do), have a persistent headache (this is something that happens continually throughout), or start to see spots in my vision (which has been happening daily for the last eight weeks). You don't tell a hypochondriac this information...it just gives us too many possibilities. So right now, Jeff has confined me to bed rest. Also, he's banned all soda/caffeine. (And this, I assure you, will be the death of me). The problem is, though bed rest sounds great...I have two other kids that need to be taken to and from school. And helped with homework, and fed, and played with, and I already feel like a completely negligent mother. Also, I'm seriously going to go out of my mind.
So, Jeff is going to check with his HR rep. tomorrow. Hopefully, there may be a string that can be pulled or something....something that will establish his being there for three months, (which he has), and in some way get our insurance to kick in a few days sooner. If not, it's bed rest for me, which is really sad, because this means that Book club, and my weekend movie retreat that I have be PLANNING on for so long, looking forward to for so long, will have to go on without me. And then next week, I'll miss DATS...my heart hurts just thinking about it. While all are going on...I'll be in bed. Miserable and angry.
So I'm asking for some positive vibes to be sent this way. I'm hoping that some miracle will happen with the whole insurance process...and this way, I don't have to worry about my blood pressure spiking just because of worrying about this whole situation. Anyway, that is the update for now. Apparently peeing into a cup each time does do something--too bad it's biting me in the butt. I'll keep you informed.
So this is what I found in my sixth picture folder, picture # 6. Though it's hard to see, it is Riley squinting out of one of the Prairie Dog holes at the Hogle Zoo. I remember I went ahead and walked out of that little cave with the bats and scorpions and spiders because it smelled like serious poo, and I was still in the throes of morning sickness. So I took pictures of Jeff, Riley and Cole being Prairie Dogs, and waited in the 100 degree weather for them to come out.
It was good day for all of us, we went later in the day, not a lot of people were there, and the zoo had the misters going in full force. I also got to see the pregnant elephant that is one of their bragging rites, and felt a certain kinship.
Hmm. This week can and will be categorized in my "let's just forget it ever happened" life's experiences. Okay, AFTER I post about it, anyway. I guess I have to keep some sort of record; just to look out for my children, and when they wonder why their mother is overcome with anxiety and odd neurosis. I'm hoping that maybe I can just say, "There's surely some explanation in my blog records that I've kept and printed and bound for each of you, in anticipation of this exact circumstance". Or maybe I won't say exactly that, but you get the gist of what may happen one day. And also? Quit judging me.
So, this week and my humiliations. Well, where to start. How about Tuesday? Seeing as how Jeff had Monday off, I didn't really do much but take the kids to school, sleep, and watch some Reno 911s. There's a certain safety in that routine that I just can't complain about. However, Tuesday is when it went terribly wrong. I again got the kids to school, then had to rush to Orem, as I had my official first weekly appointment. But I was a little early, so I went to my favorite place-Target-to just kill about forty-five minutes. Mmmkay, you know when you're walking into a store, and someone is right behind you? You really only have two choices. Either stop to the side of the doors, and let them go in, because obviously they are in more of a hurry then you are. Or, you can quickly set the pace, and get in, and veer to the carts section. This is helpful because if they need a cart, they can go to one of the five rows of waiting ones, and be on their way. Or, if they're just there for a quick something, they'll simply bypass the carts, and you have again avoided ruining their quick in and out experience. I know this through years of practice. I do all of our grocery shopping--with the occasional exception of when Jeff will do it, and return with some ice cream and cookies that supposedly will last a family of four for the entire week. But that's beside the point.
So as I was approaching the doors into Target, I saw the "I'm in a real hurry" guy behind me, and I opted for the hurry-in-and-get-to-the-carts choice. However, my faith in the electronic opening doors was in vain. The doors at Target open inward, inviting all to come inside, out of the cold, and check out their amazing clearance selections in every department. I hurried towards those doors, and watched as they began to open for me. The man behind was still very much in a hurry, so slowing wasn't an option. However, just as I was going through the doors, they decided to stop....and me, being a lot larger than I realize sometimes, effectively got stuck...inside the doors. So I am struggling in between two doors that won't budge. My belly is about through, and my hips can't follow. I kind of panicked, and struggled at bit, only to notice that I really couldn't move at all, and it was effectively tightening the doors around me. "Hurry Guy" waited for me for like, two seconds, and rolled his eyes while huffing, effectively letting me know that I was in more than one way a huge inconvenience, and opted for the manual doors. Embarrassed, I quit struggling, forced myself not to start bawling, and took a deep breath. Apparently, the lack of motion allowed the doors to open from squeezing my unborn child, and I was able to get through. From there I went to the restroom to hide for about five minutes, assuring myself that whomever had the boring job of watching the security tapes of people coming in and out, got an eyeful, and at least they'll have something worthy to talk about at break time.
After assuring myself that the people that had witnessed the entire event had maybe made their way to the produce section or something, I went out, got myself a cart and did some unnecessary shopping--something that always makes me feel better.
At my appointment I didn't have to be checked. YAY! I hate that part, I really do. Not that it's fun for the doctors, by any means...but it's painful and humiliating, and leads you to think about the more painful and humiliating things to come...and it's just an overall downer. My doctor gave me some Prilosec to help me deal with heartburn that had me puking up stomach acid, and I was then on my way out. (Side note: Prilosec for heartburn is FABULOUS. My sisters had tried to convince me, and I don't get it often, except for when I'm pregnant. But if you need any relief in that area, go for it).
I made the short trek to the front desk to schedule my next exam, and then waited behind a young guy that was being scheduled for some heart tests because he has a murmur--not very big on the privacy practice at my doctor's office, apparently. Anyway, I notice that he looked at my stomach...something that happens regularly. But instead of looking away, he just kind of stared for longer than comfortable. I looked down after wondering what was there, to see the bottom of my bare belly hanging out of my shirt. Apparently after the doctor had measured me, I didn't do a good enough job of pulling my maternity pants up and my shirt down, effectively leaving like four inches of tummy hanging out for the world to see. Remember the Friends episodes where Rachel is pregnant, and she's so fashionable and cute that she can wear belly shirts and tank tops and such? I'm the opposite of that. My belly looks like a beer gut that you have to lift up to button the tops of your pants...and really, what it feels like, too. I just hope I didn't add any extra stress to that kid's heart problems. But that's what he gets for looking.
Lastly, because Tuesday had so many prime examples and this post will be too long if I admit them all, was me going to a meeting for the parents of Kindergartners at Cole's school. First off, I was kind of pissed that it was supposed to last for an entire hour and a half. I mean, it was a "mandatory" seminar for all parents to help our kids learn how to read. And Jeff or I read with Cole every night. He reads to us his little school books, or we read stories he wants to hear, so I thought we were on the right track. Also, I really didn't have a clue as to what we'd be expected to do in that long of time. But I found out that it would be as humiliating as possible. We all got little activity booklets that we need to do with our kindergartners daily for "obvious success" which was just fine. What wasn't fine, however, was that we were then expected to pair up with other parents there, (now the pairing up thing? Seriously one of the best parts of NOT being in school anymore. I hated it then, and not surprisingly, I still hate it now), and go through EVERY activity in the book. The first lesson for us was "praising" your kindergartner's accomplishments. So I had to listen to my partner read, and inject in a very excited voice, "good job!" or "That's Right!" or "Wow, you're such a great reader!" While she read me: John and his blue car sat on the side walk.
Sometimes I think I'm really funny...and when I'm in an uncomfortable situation, I try to loosen things up. So my partner and I started to giggle about how ridiculous we felt about the whole thing...when a little old lady came over and explained that she taught kids everyday that can't read, and that they aren't praised in a correct way, and that it's so sad to her that parents don't take this sort of thing seriously. Uuuuh. After that, I knew it was possible to feel even dumber during this activity.
From there, I decided to take the whole ordeal seriously, and try to be better, and went through most of the book without incident. Until we got to the rhyming part...where we were supposed to introduce "phonetical agents" into our reading regimes. My partner was supposed to say a line from a poem, and I was supposed to fill in the blank because according to phonetic balance, I could just "hear" what would be coming. So my partner goes: Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of ______ " And I said "water." She praised me appropriately, and then said: "Jack fell down and broke his______" to which I answered, "neck?" Just cause I'm a tard, okay? I thought it would be funny....and something that Cole would say. We kind of laughed, and that little old lady came over again and asked me if I'd ever read nursery rhymes with my child, and I replied yes, and she said that she hopes I took it more seriously than I did here, because phonetic balance is so important, and she hopes that I try to ensure as much understanding as I can to my child. Embarrassed yet again, I went off to my partner about how I'm glad that lady wasn't Cole's teacher, and what's she doing teaching? She's ancient and smells weird, and all the kids are probably afraid of her because she looks like a gremlin. My partner politely smiled and gave me a pity laugh, and then informed me that that old lady was HER son's teacher.
And that was my Tuesday. This is why I much prefer to be lazy and take naps and watch TV than go out in public, wear regular clothing, and interact with people. Hopefully after I'm pregnant, most of this will go away. I'll still stick my foot in my mouth, because I always do that. But the embarrassing uncontrollable body parts? I'm SO ready to be done with those.
