Well, we finally have a plan for my brother. First, he started chemo on Tuesday. Last time he was on something called Temodar, which was a pill he took for five days every month. This time it's Taxol, which is a more traditional chemotherapy that required him to go to the oncologist and get an IV infusion. He's supposed to do this every three weeks.
Last time the Temodar didn't have many of your traditional side effects. His hair got a little mangy and he felt pretty run down the week he was taking it, but in general he tolerated it pretty well. The Taxol this time is already taking much more of a toll on him. Although he swears his breathing is already better, it's making him feel terrible otherwise. The big thing is muscle and joint pain, very much like growing pains. The medication spurs bone marrow growth and so you get aches and pains from that. He feels run down and is alternating between chills and being too hot and has no appetite.
Second, on top of feeling crummy, he got word today that the gamma knife procedure is out. They have scheduled him for regular open brain surgery the afternoon of 2/20 to remove the tumor that's there. He'll be at PSL, the same hospital as last time, with surgery done by Dr. Lamond, who also did the last one.
The reason they can't do the gamma knife is because this is a melanoma we're dealing with, and it doesn't respond well to the gamma knife, so this is the only way. Steve is really bummed about it. He's had such a hard time in the hospital - it seems like something else always goes wrong when he's in there and he ends up staying longer than they originally told him. He'll probably still be in the hospital by the time he's supposed to do the next round of chemo, so I imagine they'll be postponing that until he's more recovered from the surgery.
We went over to see him this afternoon for just a few minutes - we brought him some prescriptions he needed and some other sundry items that he's just been too wiped out to go to the grocery store and pick up. We didn't stay because Mr. F has such a bad cold and we didn't want to get Steve any sicker with his immune system as compromised as it is right now. Poor guy just seems so down - I'm sure he's feeling pretty awful emotionally as well as all the chemo side effects. When you feel bad physically, that affects you mentally, and then to get the news that he's going to have to have the surgery, in a week no less - well, I'm sure he's about as down as he gets.
I am doing my best to keep upbeat and not worry so much about him. I hate to be going through all this again, especially knowing that I won't be able to care for him like I did last time. I just have to keep my spirits up and know that we will get through it. As always, good thoughts and karma sent our way are always appreciated.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
YUM.
I had a half a PBJ today and noticed that the grape jelly seemed different. This is because it was grape jam. I liked it more than jelly, I guess because of the texture - it was more spread-y and less slide-y than jelly. For some reason, we've always bought jelly; I have no idea how we ended up with jam this time, unless Mr. F bought it. Anyway, it got me to wondering, which do people prefer and why, and actually, what's the difference?
In other news, we ran some errands tonight which brought us in the vicinity of one of the two Colorado Krispy Kremes, which is way the hell over on the other side of town and not convenient to go to at all, and which is why I went to it once when it opened years and years ago and have never been back. Mr. F and I were both in the mood for something sweet, and the HOT NOW sign was on, so we thought we'd pop in for a doughnut.
Well, we walked in and the guy just handed us free, piping hot doughnuts, which I did not remember tasting this TOTALLY AWESOME when I had one a million years ago. Man, they get you with that "first one's free," because we ended up buying a dozen to go (one of which was eaten on the way home and NOT BY THE PREGNANT WOMAN.)
In conclusion, YUM.
T minus 11 days
Week 39
Yikes...only 11 days until my due date! Not that that means anything, as most days I think Peanut is perfectly content to keep cooking in there and just may overstay his welcome, for all that he pretends to be Searching for the Great Egress.
Saw Dr. O on Tuesday...nothing exciting to report. Listened to the heart, had a cervical check - still less than 2 cm dilated and Dr. O guesses still at least another week or two before b-day. I told her I was starting to get paranoid that something might be wrong. Not for any real reason, just - we've come so far and I don't want anything bad to happen now. And with everything else going on in my life right now, I'm just nervous. So if Peanut doesn't move for a little while, I get anxious (and start poking at him, and if he doesn't respond to that, well, then I get really anxious) and start thinking something's wrong. She told me at this point, it's so crowded he won't be moving as much and I should think about the quality of his movement as opposed to the quantity.
Dr. O was great about it though, and said that we have nothing to gain and everything to lose now, so I shouldn't think twice about calling her if I'm worried. And to help put my mind at ease, she did a quickie ultrasound herself to check fluid levels (all excellent) and then I did a non-stress test (NST), which is basically sitting in a chair for twenty minutes with a fetal heart rate monitor and another for uterine contractions. And they give you a little button to push whenever you feel the baby move. So I did that, and of course Peanut was romping around like a madman - I think he liked when they strapped the things around my belly.
Anyway, after the twenty minutes, Dr. O came in and looked at the printout and told me that with the fluid levels looking good and with "an absolutely gorgeous tracing" from the NST, that everything looked fabulous and I should feel good, and to please call her if I got worried again and she'd happily have me come in and do another NST or whatever would make me feel better.
I do feel better but am still ready to have this baby. Not that I'm EVER going to stop worrying about him in the next 50 years, but I feel like I'm ready to burst, I'm so big! I lost a pound from last week's appointment, but the books say that at the end sometimes you will actually lose a little weight. Still, I was somehow able to gain the 15 pounds I was supposed to but I imagine most or all of that will be gone quite quickly after the baby's born, especially if the breastfeeding works out.
Lessee...still not sleeping great, although Dr. O said I could take a benadryl to help, which I did last night. Helped a little, although it mostly just made me drowsy during the parts where I wasn't sleeping. And, good news...the angry lady parts seem to have calmed down to an occasional mild annoyance. Lots of low back pain, still being managed with heating pad, exercise ball and numerous nightly rubs by the uber-fantastic Mr. F. And of course, all this is accompanied by continually feeling as if I could not possibly be able to grow any bigger. The swaybacked waddle on me is hysterical.
Speaking of breastfeeding, I am planning on doing it for as long as I can - well, not years or anything, I don't think I could hack it - but hopefully a good six months. So now I'm reading The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding, which is a La Leche League book, and while kind of earth-mothery-hippieish and agenda-oriented as LLL is known to be, is still very informative and supposed to be the best resource on breastfeeding.
Still, one of the things that ticks me off - they put this little note in the foreword explaining how throughout the book, they "...still write from the perspective of a household consisting of husband, wife, and child or children. Some have pointed out to us that times have changed and this is no longer a realistic approach to family life. But we are convinced that breastfeeding and mothering progress more easily in such an environment. From personal experience, we also know that this situation does not always hold true in real life. Sometimes the father is missing from the family, and mothering then becomes a solitary endeavor. It is not an easy situation for a woman to be in. Our hope is that any mother in that situation finds the support she needs in other ways."
Just...fail. La Leche League was formed in 1956, but this is from the 2004 7th edition. They're having a hard time getting the "sometimes moms are single" clue...when are they going to understand that there are all kinds of families now? Hey, guess what - sometimes there isn't a dad! But that doesn't mean mom is doing it by herself. Sometimes there's another mom! Or friend or parent or one (or two or three...) of a hundred other people who provide the same support to a new mother. Not to mention that they are basically saying they acknowledge that it's not always the "traditional" family setup and yet they still think it's the best way, so they are going to ignore all other possibilities. *headdesk* Anyway, despite the fact that I happen to be in the "traditional" setup they desire, I am reading this book through a filter and trying to ignore all the crap that's not specifically about how to breastfeed.
Also, speaking of breastfeeding, the fine bastards at Simlac have somehow discovered I'm about to give birth and helpfully sent me fairly large free sample of their most expensive formula. Literally everything I've read about breastfeeding says not to keep any formula, not even free samples, in the house because it's so tempting to give in and use when you're having trouble breastfeeding and worried that baby's not getting enough to eat, and that can cause huge setbacks in breastfeeding, if not disrupt it entirely. So that's how they suck you in...the first one's always free. Guess I'll be giving this to my cousin so I'm not tempted!
Anyway, that's about it from babyland.
Yikes...only 11 days until my due date! Not that that means anything, as most days I think Peanut is perfectly content to keep cooking in there and just may overstay his welcome, for all that he pretends to be Searching for the Great Egress.
Saw Dr. O on Tuesday...nothing exciting to report. Listened to the heart, had a cervical check - still less than 2 cm dilated and Dr. O guesses still at least another week or two before b-day. I told her I was starting to get paranoid that something might be wrong. Not for any real reason, just - we've come so far and I don't want anything bad to happen now. And with everything else going on in my life right now, I'm just nervous. So if Peanut doesn't move for a little while, I get anxious (and start poking at him, and if he doesn't respond to that, well, then I get really anxious) and start thinking something's wrong. She told me at this point, it's so crowded he won't be moving as much and I should think about the quality of his movement as opposed to the quantity.
Dr. O was great about it though, and said that we have nothing to gain and everything to lose now, so I shouldn't think twice about calling her if I'm worried. And to help put my mind at ease, she did a quickie ultrasound herself to check fluid levels (all excellent) and then I did a non-stress test (NST), which is basically sitting in a chair for twenty minutes with a fetal heart rate monitor and another for uterine contractions. And they give you a little button to push whenever you feel the baby move. So I did that, and of course Peanut was romping around like a madman - I think he liked when they strapped the things around my belly.
Anyway, after the twenty minutes, Dr. O came in and looked at the printout and told me that with the fluid levels looking good and with "an absolutely gorgeous tracing" from the NST, that everything looked fabulous and I should feel good, and to please call her if I got worried again and she'd happily have me come in and do another NST or whatever would make me feel better.
I do feel better but am still ready to have this baby. Not that I'm EVER going to stop worrying about him in the next 50 years, but I feel like I'm ready to burst, I'm so big! I lost a pound from last week's appointment, but the books say that at the end sometimes you will actually lose a little weight. Still, I was somehow able to gain the 15 pounds I was supposed to but I imagine most or all of that will be gone quite quickly after the baby's born, especially if the breastfeeding works out.
Lessee...still not sleeping great, although Dr. O said I could take a benadryl to help, which I did last night. Helped a little, although it mostly just made me drowsy during the parts where I wasn't sleeping. And, good news...the angry lady parts seem to have calmed down to an occasional mild annoyance. Lots of low back pain, still being managed with heating pad, exercise ball and numerous nightly rubs by the uber-fantastic Mr. F. And of course, all this is accompanied by continually feeling as if I could not possibly be able to grow any bigger. The swaybacked waddle on me is hysterical.
Speaking of breastfeeding, I am planning on doing it for as long as I can - well, not years or anything, I don't think I could hack it - but hopefully a good six months. So now I'm reading The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding, which is a La Leche League book, and while kind of earth-mothery-hippieish and agenda-oriented as LLL is known to be, is still very informative and supposed to be the best resource on breastfeeding.
Still, one of the things that ticks me off - they put this little note in the foreword explaining how throughout the book, they "...still write from the perspective of a household consisting of husband, wife, and child or children. Some have pointed out to us that times have changed and this is no longer a realistic approach to family life. But we are convinced that breastfeeding and mothering progress more easily in such an environment. From personal experience, we also know that this situation does not always hold true in real life. Sometimes the father is missing from the family, and mothering then becomes a solitary endeavor. It is not an easy situation for a woman to be in. Our hope is that any mother in that situation finds the support she needs in other ways."
Just...fail. La Leche League was formed in 1956, but this is from the 2004 7th edition. They're having a hard time getting the "sometimes moms are single" clue...when are they going to understand that there are all kinds of families now? Hey, guess what - sometimes there isn't a dad! But that doesn't mean mom is doing it by herself. Sometimes there's another mom! Or friend or parent or one (or two or three...) of a hundred other people who provide the same support to a new mother. Not to mention that they are basically saying they acknowledge that it's not always the "traditional" family setup and yet they still think it's the best way, so they are going to ignore all other possibilities. *headdesk* Anyway, despite the fact that I happen to be in the "traditional" setup they desire, I am reading this book through a filter and trying to ignore all the crap that's not specifically about how to breastfeed.
Also, speaking of breastfeeding, the fine bastards at Simlac have somehow discovered I'm about to give birth and helpfully sent me fairly large free sample of their most expensive formula. Literally everything I've read about breastfeeding says not to keep any formula, not even free samples, in the house because it's so tempting to give in and use when you're having trouble breastfeeding and worried that baby's not getting enough to eat, and that can cause huge setbacks in breastfeeding, if not disrupt it entirely. So that's how they suck you in...the first one's always free. Guess I'll be giving this to my cousin so I'm not tempted!
Anyway, that's about it from babyland.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
State of the Me
Well. Lots going on, so it's about time for another state of the union.
Peanut
Not a lot to report...Peanut is cooking away and doing his best to bust his way out any way but the one way he's supposed to. Had a dr visit on Tuesday and saw the last OB in the practice I hadn't met yet, Dr. Mahoney. She was great, and now they will all be familiar faces, no matter who shows up for the delivery. The appointment was quick, just a chat and listened to the heart beat. I had assumed she would do another cervical check - I thought they would be doing that every week until the end - but she didn't, which was a pleasant surprise. The fewer of those I have, the better. I really like this practice - they have two midwives on staff and really seem to be in tune with the things I want as far as my prenatal care and also for my labor and delivery. Although most of them are OBs, they seem less inclined toward all the interventions my books and Dr. Internet have scared me into thinking all OBs are determined to do.
So, this is week 38 - I have 17 days until my due date. OMG. It's coming so fast! We are mostly ready, although the one thing we haven't bought is the co-sleeper that we want from our registry. Not to worry - we have a pack n' play as well as several laundry baskets and drawers, so Peanut has someplace to sleep until we do get it. I had my second baby shower last Saturday and we got tons more clothes - this is going to be the best dressed baby ever, as long as we can get all his laundry done! And Mr. Fantastic took me to the baby store this week so we could get some necessities - diapers and wipes and whatnot. We've got pretty much everything assembled and now we're just trying to find the optimal arrangement in our little place for all this stuff.
I feel great, although I am really not getting much sleep. Partly just being uncomfortable, partly my brain racing a million miles an hour, and partly just not being able to stay asleep for very long at once. Am having lots of Braxton-Hicks contractions, which are not exactly painful per se, but which are really uncomfortable because they make my entire belly tighten up. And I think the baby has dropped, or at least he's Searching for the Great Egress lower than he used to be. Next appointment is on Tuesday again, will keep you all posted on the Peanut front.
Dad
Took Dad on the 28th to get sentenced for his DUI from back in April 08. As expected, they gave him the minimum 10 days mandatory in jail, plus fines, community service and probation. The good news is they gave him the option to join the Weekender Program, meaning he's allowed to go in on just the weekends. He got credit for time served, so he actually only has to do 4 consecutive weekends, from about 8 am on Saturday to 5 pm on Sunday, starting March 21. It sounds like it will be fairly easy - he won't even be "locked up" at night (the building itself will be locked, but not his particular room/cell), is allowed to wear what he wants as long as it's plain, and he may be required to do some chores as needed.
The best part is that Dad has asked my oldest brother JT to drive him to and from the facility on all four weekends, meaning I don't have to do it. Don't get me wrong, I am happy to help out my family as much as I can, but with a new baby, I was worried about being on point for that. And it was nice of Dad to just take care of it and not even ask me, because you know I wouldn't have said no.
Not a lot of news otherwise - he is supposed to be deciding on a course of treatment for the prostate cancer, either surgery to have it removed or doing radiation treatments along with the seed implants. Both would be preceded by a hormone shot that basically halts production of testosterone, which is what feeds the cancer. Nobody seems to be too worried about handling this too aggressively, so I am attempting not to worry about it and concentrate on other things, like Peanut and Steve.
Steve
Why am I worrying about Steve again? Well. Here's the tough part. The cancer is back. He started having a cough before Christmas, went in for a scan and they've found new tumors both in his brain and his lung, the same spots where they were before. We basically don't know a whole lot at this point - he has an appointment with the brain surgeon next Thursday to formulate a plan.
Mostly all we know is they want to treat the brain first - possibly using the gamma knife - then do some type of chemo for the lung. They are moving quickly, but they also keep saying we have options, so I am having mixed feelings about how hopeful I should be as far as the long-term prognosis, which they haven't said anything about. In the mean time, Steve's got this cough that won't go away and which is driving him crazy. He doesn't have a sore throat or anything, but there's fluid in the lung cavity, which makes it hard for him to breathe, so they've got him on oxygen again, and then the cough is because his body thinks there's something in there (the tumor) that it can get out by coughing. So he's got some cough medicine but it gives him nightmares, so either he doesn't sleep or he hardly sleeps. All in all, he's not feeling too hot these days. Just a short walk to the car wipes him out. He is adamant that I not do too much for him this time. With the baby coming, he doesn't want to depend on me so much. I know Dad will be a big help and Mr. Fantastic has offered to do whatever he can as well, but I can't help feeling in some way like I'm letting him down. I know that's silly, but it's in my nature; I can't help it.
So. More on that as we get news, but as always, we will gladly take any good karma you want to sling our way.
Peanut
Not a lot to report...Peanut is cooking away and doing his best to bust his way out any way but the one way he's supposed to. Had a dr visit on Tuesday and saw the last OB in the practice I hadn't met yet, Dr. Mahoney. She was great, and now they will all be familiar faces, no matter who shows up for the delivery. The appointment was quick, just a chat and listened to the heart beat. I had assumed she would do another cervical check - I thought they would be doing that every week until the end - but she didn't, which was a pleasant surprise. The fewer of those I have, the better. I really like this practice - they have two midwives on staff and really seem to be in tune with the things I want as far as my prenatal care and also for my labor and delivery. Although most of them are OBs, they seem less inclined toward all the interventions my books and Dr. Internet have scared me into thinking all OBs are determined to do.
So, this is week 38 - I have 17 days until my due date. OMG. It's coming so fast! We are mostly ready, although the one thing we haven't bought is the co-sleeper that we want from our registry. Not to worry - we have a pack n' play as well as several laundry baskets and drawers, so Peanut has someplace to sleep until we do get it. I had my second baby shower last Saturday and we got tons more clothes - this is going to be the best dressed baby ever, as long as we can get all his laundry done! And Mr. Fantastic took me to the baby store this week so we could get some necessities - diapers and wipes and whatnot. We've got pretty much everything assembled and now we're just trying to find the optimal arrangement in our little place for all this stuff.
I feel great, although I am really not getting much sleep. Partly just being uncomfortable, partly my brain racing a million miles an hour, and partly just not being able to stay asleep for very long at once. Am having lots of Braxton-Hicks contractions, which are not exactly painful per se, but which are really uncomfortable because they make my entire belly tighten up. And I think the baby has dropped, or at least he's Searching for the Great Egress lower than he used to be. Next appointment is on Tuesday again, will keep you all posted on the Peanut front.
Dad
Took Dad on the 28th to get sentenced for his DUI from back in April 08. As expected, they gave him the minimum 10 days mandatory in jail, plus fines, community service and probation. The good news is they gave him the option to join the Weekender Program, meaning he's allowed to go in on just the weekends. He got credit for time served, so he actually only has to do 4 consecutive weekends, from about 8 am on Saturday to 5 pm on Sunday, starting March 21. It sounds like it will be fairly easy - he won't even be "locked up" at night (the building itself will be locked, but not his particular room/cell), is allowed to wear what he wants as long as it's plain, and he may be required to do some chores as needed.
The best part is that Dad has asked my oldest brother JT to drive him to and from the facility on all four weekends, meaning I don't have to do it. Don't get me wrong, I am happy to help out my family as much as I can, but with a new baby, I was worried about being on point for that. And it was nice of Dad to just take care of it and not even ask me, because you know I wouldn't have said no.
Not a lot of news otherwise - he is supposed to be deciding on a course of treatment for the prostate cancer, either surgery to have it removed or doing radiation treatments along with the seed implants. Both would be preceded by a hormone shot that basically halts production of testosterone, which is what feeds the cancer. Nobody seems to be too worried about handling this too aggressively, so I am attempting not to worry about it and concentrate on other things, like Peanut and Steve.
Steve
Why am I worrying about Steve again? Well. Here's the tough part. The cancer is back. He started having a cough before Christmas, went in for a scan and they've found new tumors both in his brain and his lung, the same spots where they were before. We basically don't know a whole lot at this point - he has an appointment with the brain surgeon next Thursday to formulate a plan.
Mostly all we know is they want to treat the brain first - possibly using the gamma knife - then do some type of chemo for the lung. They are moving quickly, but they also keep saying we have options, so I am having mixed feelings about how hopeful I should be as far as the long-term prognosis, which they haven't said anything about. In the mean time, Steve's got this cough that won't go away and which is driving him crazy. He doesn't have a sore throat or anything, but there's fluid in the lung cavity, which makes it hard for him to breathe, so they've got him on oxygen again, and then the cough is because his body thinks there's something in there (the tumor) that it can get out by coughing. So he's got some cough medicine but it gives him nightmares, so either he doesn't sleep or he hardly sleeps. All in all, he's not feeling too hot these days. Just a short walk to the car wipes him out. He is adamant that I not do too much for him this time. With the baby coming, he doesn't want to depend on me so much. I know Dad will be a big help and Mr. Fantastic has offered to do whatever he can as well, but I can't help feeling in some way like I'm letting him down. I know that's silly, but it's in my nature; I can't help it.
So. More on that as we get news, but as always, we will gladly take any good karma you want to sling our way.
Friday, January 23, 2009
30 days to go! (Aaaaaahhhh!)
Week 36
Routine checkup yesterday with the measuring and the listening to the heartbeat, both of which were a-ok. Also did the Group B Strep test, the results of which I will find out at my next appointment. It's not a huge deal - 1 in 5 women are GBS carriers and most have no idea. All it means is that you'll have to have IV anitbiotics for a few hours once you go into labor so you don't pass it to the baby. Dr. O also did a cervical check and poked the baby's head! He, thankfully, did not seem to notice. She said that while I'm fingertip-width dilated, the baby's head is pretty far back, which means he's not engaged and hasn't dropped yet. Translation: it's gonna be another couple weeks. I am both happy and sad about this.
Sad because it means another 2-5 weeks of being pregnant, when I already feel so huge I can't imagine possibly getting any bigger, and not being able to sleep comfortably and the various other inconveniences and discomforts of pregnancy, and most of all, being anxious to meet my little one.
But it also makes me happy because despite all the various inconveniences and discomforts, I have greatly enjoyed being pregnant. Unlike a lot of women I've heard from, I've enjoyed seeing and feeling the changes in my body and sharing the pregnancy with Mr. Fantastic, and most of all, feeling Peanut moving inside me. That most of all is something I will miss acutely. I'm sure that once I have an actual baby to distract me, I won't notice so much, but right now just the thought of not feeling him rolling around in there anymore makes me so sad.
Also, I will cop to the fact that the closer it gets, the more I realize that I'M GOING TO BE SOMEBODY'S MOTHER, which is scary and freaky and exciting all at once. Not to mention, it's a lot easier to take care of a baby who lives inside me than one who lives on the outside. So I'm still overall happy to keep him inside just a leetle bit longer.
Almost every night, Mr. F and I lay on the couch or in bed with our hands on my belly, just feeling the baby move, and it's a really lovely time of closeness and connection for us. I'll miss that too, and I hope we can find a new way to do that once the baby's here.
Speaking of Peanut and moving around...since he's gotten bigger, there's less room for him to actually poke/kick/punch, and now it's more of a rolling, squirmy thing. It hurts less (usually not at all, except when he's got a foot lodged under my ribs) but looks a lot weirder. When the kiddo decides to start moving, the whole belly gets involved. And at times, I do get slightly concerned because I swear something is actually going to burst through. It's fascinating to watch - my stomach has become sentient. Literally! Some days, he moves around so much, I swear he is trying to escape or is looking for something. The exit, possibly, because it's pretty cramped in there.
I spend a lot of time staring down at my belly, watching it lurch around without any input from me. Many of my Conversations with Peanut these days involve me looking incredulously at my belly as it heaves itself to and fro and asking, "What are you doing in there?" Or sometimes it goes like this:
Peanut: *squirm squirm squirm JAB*
Belly: *barely retains the alien trying to escape*
Me: You do know there's only one way out of there, right?
Peanut: Yes! And it's right...here! *jams foot in my ribs*
Me: Ow!
Peanut: *squirm squirm roll* No, wait, it's...here! *pokes butt into the underside of my belly button*
Me: *headdesk*
Peanut: No, here! *continues squirming randomly*
Me: Seriously, dude...I promise, you will see the exit when it's time. You don't have to keep looking for it.
Peanut: I will not be vinced! *shakes tiny fist*
While enormously entertaining for both me and Mr. Fantastic at seven in the evening, this is much less amusing at two in the morning. Even less so when Peanut seems to have exhausted his fruitless Search for the Great Egress and quiets down, only to develop hiccups thirty seconds later. The hiccups are a charming little tickle down near my left ovary that generally don't bother me when I'm not in bed trying to sleep. I don't even notice them after he initially starts, but when I'm in bed with nothing else to distract me? OY. Please smother me into unconsciousness, because all I want is to go to sleep.
Me: *watching clock in the dark* Please, please, please can we call off the Search for the Great Egress for a little while? It's not going anywhere and I'd really like to get some sleep.
Peanut: *grumbling* Fine! Fine. *flops around a few more times, petulantly arranging his pillow*
Me: *eyeroll* Are we done now, your highness? Thank you. *tries to sleep*
(Thirty seconds pass)
Peanut: ...
Me: ...
Crickets: *chirping*
Peanut: *hic*
Me: Nonononono! *pats belly* None of that now, sleepy time.
Peanut: *hic hic hic*
Me: Nooooo!
Peanut: *hic hic hic hic hic hichichichichichichic*
Me: Waily waily waily!
And so on, for what seems like eternity but which is actually less than ten minutes. I have resigned myself to this sleeping thing not actually improving once Peanut's out here in the world. (Waily.)
In other news, the first of two baby showers is tomorrow and I'm so excited! My cousins (H's 1-3 and G and T) are hosting for me and I know they'll put on a lovely party. I'm excited to open presents and especially to see some people that I don't on a regular basis. Particularly some of Mummy Fantastic's friends who were also friends with my mom, and some of my other cousins who I haven't seen in a while. Instead of your traditional baby shower, we're doing a late afternoon/early evening cocktail party type of thing, with, most importantly, no bloody games. I hate baby and bridal showers, mostly because they take up your Saturday afternoon with stupid games and don't even have the decency to get you drunk so it's tolerable. So I told my cousins the only thing I really cared about was games = no, alcohol = yes, and they, all being of excellently like minds, agreed. We actually all discussed this when we planned H3's baby shower back in October, and she felt the same way, so we've already thrown one excellent baby shower.
Mr. F's aunt and cousin are having a shower for me next weekend - also excellently planned for the evening and which I am sure will also include wine.
We're also having our last open house for the condo tomorrow. I don't know how I feel about that - I mean, what if we get an offer on the place now? I would be absolutely useless to help with a move at this point. I can barely bend over, let alone actually lift anything. I mean, I was very keen on moving asap a couple of months ago and I still want an actual house but I guess I had reconciled myself to being here for a few months after the baby. So I'm having mixed feelings. I'm sure whatever happens will be for the best but it is certainly a daunting prospect that's being moved to the front of my mind again.
Routine checkup yesterday with the measuring and the listening to the heartbeat, both of which were a-ok. Also did the Group B Strep test, the results of which I will find out at my next appointment. It's not a huge deal - 1 in 5 women are GBS carriers and most have no idea. All it means is that you'll have to have IV anitbiotics for a few hours once you go into labor so you don't pass it to the baby. Dr. O also did a cervical check and poked the baby's head! He, thankfully, did not seem to notice. She said that while I'm fingertip-width dilated, the baby's head is pretty far back, which means he's not engaged and hasn't dropped yet. Translation: it's gonna be another couple weeks. I am both happy and sad about this.
Sad because it means another 2-5 weeks of being pregnant, when I already feel so huge I can't imagine possibly getting any bigger, and not being able to sleep comfortably and the various other inconveniences and discomforts of pregnancy, and most of all, being anxious to meet my little one.
But it also makes me happy because despite all the various inconveniences and discomforts, I have greatly enjoyed being pregnant. Unlike a lot of women I've heard from, I've enjoyed seeing and feeling the changes in my body and sharing the pregnancy with Mr. Fantastic, and most of all, feeling Peanut moving inside me. That most of all is something I will miss acutely. I'm sure that once I have an actual baby to distract me, I won't notice so much, but right now just the thought of not feeling him rolling around in there anymore makes me so sad.
Also, I will cop to the fact that the closer it gets, the more I realize that I'M GOING TO BE SOMEBODY'S MOTHER, which is scary and freaky and exciting all at once. Not to mention, it's a lot easier to take care of a baby who lives inside me than one who lives on the outside. So I'm still overall happy to keep him inside just a leetle bit longer.
Almost every night, Mr. F and I lay on the couch or in bed with our hands on my belly, just feeling the baby move, and it's a really lovely time of closeness and connection for us. I'll miss that too, and I hope we can find a new way to do that once the baby's here.
Speaking of Peanut and moving around...since he's gotten bigger, there's less room for him to actually poke/kick/punch, and now it's more of a rolling, squirmy thing. It hurts less (usually not at all, except when he's got a foot lodged under my ribs) but looks a lot weirder. When the kiddo decides to start moving, the whole belly gets involved. And at times, I do get slightly concerned because I swear something is actually going to burst through. It's fascinating to watch - my stomach has become sentient. Literally! Some days, he moves around so much, I swear he is trying to escape or is looking for something. The exit, possibly, because it's pretty cramped in there.
I spend a lot of time staring down at my belly, watching it lurch around without any input from me. Many of my Conversations with Peanut these days involve me looking incredulously at my belly as it heaves itself to and fro and asking, "What are you doing in there?" Or sometimes it goes like this:
Peanut: *squirm squirm squirm JAB*
Belly: *barely retains the alien trying to escape*
Me: You do know there's only one way out of there, right?
Peanut: Yes! And it's right...here! *jams foot in my ribs*
Me: Ow!
Peanut: *squirm squirm roll* No, wait, it's...here! *pokes butt into the underside of my belly button*
Me: *headdesk*
Peanut: No, here! *continues squirming randomly*
Me: Seriously, dude...I promise, you will see the exit when it's time. You don't have to keep looking for it.
Peanut: I will not be vinced! *shakes tiny fist*
While enormously entertaining for both me and Mr. Fantastic at seven in the evening, this is much less amusing at two in the morning. Even less so when Peanut seems to have exhausted his fruitless Search for the Great Egress and quiets down, only to develop hiccups thirty seconds later. The hiccups are a charming little tickle down near my left ovary that generally don't bother me when I'm not in bed trying to sleep. I don't even notice them after he initially starts, but when I'm in bed with nothing else to distract me? OY. Please smother me into unconsciousness, because all I want is to go to sleep.
Me: *watching clock in the dark* Please, please, please can we call off the Search for the Great Egress for a little while? It's not going anywhere and I'd really like to get some sleep.
Peanut: *grumbling* Fine! Fine. *flops around a few more times, petulantly arranging his pillow*
Me: *eyeroll* Are we done now, your highness? Thank you. *tries to sleep*
(Thirty seconds pass)
Peanut: ...
Me: ...
Crickets: *chirping*
Peanut: *hic*
Me: Nonononono! *pats belly* None of that now, sleepy time.
Peanut: *hic hic hic*
Me: Nooooo!
Peanut: *hic hic hic hic hic hichichichichichichic*
Me: Waily waily waily!
And so on, for what seems like eternity but which is actually less than ten minutes. I have resigned myself to this sleeping thing not actually improving once Peanut's out here in the world. (Waily.)
In other news, the first of two baby showers is tomorrow and I'm so excited! My cousins (H's 1-3 and G and T) are hosting for me and I know they'll put on a lovely party. I'm excited to open presents and especially to see some people that I don't on a regular basis. Particularly some of Mummy Fantastic's friends who were also friends with my mom, and some of my other cousins who I haven't seen in a while. Instead of your traditional baby shower, we're doing a late afternoon/early evening cocktail party type of thing, with, most importantly, no bloody games. I hate baby and bridal showers, mostly because they take up your Saturday afternoon with stupid games and don't even have the decency to get you drunk so it's tolerable. So I told my cousins the only thing I really cared about was games = no, alcohol = yes, and they, all being of excellently like minds, agreed. We actually all discussed this when we planned H3's baby shower back in October, and she felt the same way, so we've already thrown one excellent baby shower.
Mr. F's aunt and cousin are having a shower for me next weekend - also excellently planned for the evening and which I am sure will also include wine.
We're also having our last open house for the condo tomorrow. I don't know how I feel about that - I mean, what if we get an offer on the place now? I would be absolutely useless to help with a move at this point. I can barely bend over, let alone actually lift anything. I mean, I was very keen on moving asap a couple of months ago and I still want an actual house but I guess I had reconciled myself to being here for a few months after the baby. So I'm having mixed feelings. I'm sure whatever happens will be for the best but it is certainly a daunting prospect that's being moved to the front of my mind again.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Gulp...only 41 days to go!
Week 35
Another checkup today. Not much news, with the exception that Dr. O has caved in the face of my excellent sugar numbers and conceded that there is just no way I have gestational diabetes and am very unlikely to get it at this stage of the game. Ha!
Downside: she still wants me to test once a week. But! Once a week! That's nothing. She also did not do anything crazy like order another ultrasound or anything, just measured me and listened to the heartbeat and chatted.
In ten days, I have my next appointment, where I have to have a Group B Strep test, which is apparently not entirely pleasant and is reminiscent of your annual Gyno visit. Not looking forward to that. And then after that, I'll be going in once a week until the baby. I can't believe how quickly time has gone by. It seems like just yesterday my pants were getting a little tight...and now I'm hiding a basketball under my shirt.
I am writing a birth plan, which Dr. O was very receptive to. She even gave me some suggestions as to what to include. After much research and discussion, Mr. F and I are very concerned about having a C-section, mostly because it happens very often unnecessarily. There are many, many instances where a woman is pushed into a C-sec for "failure to progress" when she has not been allowed very much time for pushing or progress - sometimes as little as 4 hours. The average labor is 14 hours (and I think this would be higher if women weren't herded into C-sections so quickly.) Often, doctors will make this decision because they just want to get the delivery over with - I don't have the source with me right now, but we read somewhere that a majority of C-secs happen between 4-5 pm, when the doctor wants to get home in time for dinner. Also, it happens a lot when you doctor has plans the next day, like if your doctor is leaving for vacation the next morning. It's definitely possible that the doctor's vacation plans and desire to get home sooner may factor into their decision making.
Anyway, Dr. O and I talked about it a bit and she reassured me that she (and the other docs at her practice) don't take the C-section lightly and respect our desire to avoid it. Of course, this came with all the blah blah caveats about doing what's necessary for a healthy baby at the end, so it may have just been a bunch of hoo-ha to placate me. Seeing as Mr. F and I have decided we don't want a bunch of people in the delivery room with us (meaning, nobody besides us and the medical staff), Mr. F knows he is my advocate and will be speaking up on my behalf if I don't or can't. I've been surprised at just how much knowledge he's absorbed through this whole process and I feel really good about how much we've discussed and agreed on about the way we want the delivery to go.
[Speaking of people in the delivery room - we haven't really talked to anyone much about who we are or are not having in the delivery room with us. I think if my mom was still alive, it'd be different - I know she'd want to be in there, at the very least. But we've really only had one person even ask about it and that was a month ago, and I just said we hadn't really decided. I don't want to hurt anybody's feelings, but I don't think it will be a problem. With a bunch of men on my side, I don't think we have to worry about them wanting to be there, and Mr. F's family have always been wonderful to me and I cannot even imagine any hurt feelings or contention about it. All any of our family wants is for us to be happy and have a healthy baby. (I have to say again that I have the best family-in-law, especially Mummy Fantastic, that anybody could ask for. I could write an essay on the awesomeness of my mother-in-law alone.)]
Dr. O did mention that one of the best ways to help avoid a C-section is to labor at home for as long as possible. She said specifically not to come in right away and to keep active at home and that we should just give them a call when things got going. This totally makes sense with all the research we've done. The more time you're in the hospital, the more opportunity you have for them to start wanting to monitor you and do all kinds of "helpful" testing that actually doesn't really help much at all, and in fact, can lead to further intervention due to false positives. Plus, they generally give you a 24-hour window from the time your water breaks before they start worrying about infection and section you. So if you don't go in right away, they can't start the clock on you and that gives you extra time to progress.
One thing that did concern me was that Dr. O said they don't like to let people go more than a week beyond the due date before they induce. I'd prefer they allow two weeks, but hopefully this is not a battle we will have to fight. (Please, please, OMG, please do not let this baby go two weeks postdates! Oy. I already feel huge and waddly enough.) For another bunch of reasons, induction is something else we really, really want to avoid, so you can bet when the time comes, I will be doing every trick I can think of to get this baby to get started on his own.
We have started our childbirth preparation classes - 3 hours every Wednesday night for 4 weeks. The first week they didn't tell us much we didn't already know, but we did learn that Peanut is in the OPTIMAL BIRTHING POSITION, otherwise known as Left Occiput Anterior. That means head down and feet kicking me on the right, basically. We also did some relaxation stuff that was nice, but mostly it was anatomy and getting to know the other students. And she talked alot about how fear causes tension which causes pain, so if we went into the process well-educated, we wouldn't be as scared, therefore, we'd relax easier, ultimately resulting in less pain. Which I am totally down with. She handed out a sheet with some affirmations on it, one of which was something ridiculously cheesy like "My cervix is like a flower, the petals gently opening to welcome my child," and which totally cracked Mr. F and I up, and so we've decided our relaxation affirmation is going to be "My cervix is like a leaf on the wind." Except I don't know how relaxing that will be if we're cracking up every time we say it. Anyway, hopefully next time will be more educational.
Oh! And guess what? I have found a remedy for the ANGRY LADYPARTS. The swimming pool! It is actually a remedy for all pregnancy-related ills, because when we went swimming last night, aside from the obvious basketball I was smuggling, I could not even tell I was pregnant once I got in the water. It was like magic. Nothing hurt, at all! I mostly floated around (or had Mr. F tow me) on a couple of those pool noodles for an hour while Mr. F did the actual swimming part. And Peanut, who has spent the last two weeks working a foot up under the right side of my ribcage and waggling it around, OW, even seemed to enjoy it because he calmed right down and hardly walloped me at all. It was heavenly! I forgot the ladyparts were hurting until I got out of the pool. That was kind of a downer, but it was lovely being in the water and remembering what it was like to feel so light. Needless to say, we will be making much more use of the pool in the next fortysomething days. Ahh.
Another checkup today. Not much news, with the exception that Dr. O has caved in the face of my excellent sugar numbers and conceded that there is just no way I have gestational diabetes and am very unlikely to get it at this stage of the game. Ha!
Downside: she still wants me to test once a week. But! Once a week! That's nothing. She also did not do anything crazy like order another ultrasound or anything, just measured me and listened to the heartbeat and chatted.
In ten days, I have my next appointment, where I have to have a Group B Strep test, which is apparently not entirely pleasant and is reminiscent of your annual Gyno visit. Not looking forward to that. And then after that, I'll be going in once a week until the baby. I can't believe how quickly time has gone by. It seems like just yesterday my pants were getting a little tight...and now I'm hiding a basketball under my shirt.
I am writing a birth plan, which Dr. O was very receptive to. She even gave me some suggestions as to what to include. After much research and discussion, Mr. F and I are very concerned about having a C-section, mostly because it happens very often unnecessarily. There are many, many instances where a woman is pushed into a C-sec for "failure to progress" when she has not been allowed very much time for pushing or progress - sometimes as little as 4 hours. The average labor is 14 hours (and I think this would be higher if women weren't herded into C-sections so quickly.) Often, doctors will make this decision because they just want to get the delivery over with - I don't have the source with me right now, but we read somewhere that a majority of C-secs happen between 4-5 pm, when the doctor wants to get home in time for dinner. Also, it happens a lot when you doctor has plans the next day, like if your doctor is leaving for vacation the next morning. It's definitely possible that the doctor's vacation plans and desire to get home sooner may factor into their decision making.
Anyway, Dr. O and I talked about it a bit and she reassured me that she (and the other docs at her practice) don't take the C-section lightly and respect our desire to avoid it. Of course, this came with all the blah blah caveats about doing what's necessary for a healthy baby at the end, so it may have just been a bunch of hoo-ha to placate me. Seeing as Mr. F and I have decided we don't want a bunch of people in the delivery room with us (meaning, nobody besides us and the medical staff), Mr. F knows he is my advocate and will be speaking up on my behalf if I don't or can't. I've been surprised at just how much knowledge he's absorbed through this whole process and I feel really good about how much we've discussed and agreed on about the way we want the delivery to go.
[Speaking of people in the delivery room - we haven't really talked to anyone much about who we are or are not having in the delivery room with us. I think if my mom was still alive, it'd be different - I know she'd want to be in there, at the very least. But we've really only had one person even ask about it and that was a month ago, and I just said we hadn't really decided. I don't want to hurt anybody's feelings, but I don't think it will be a problem. With a bunch of men on my side, I don't think we have to worry about them wanting to be there, and Mr. F's family have always been wonderful to me and I cannot even imagine any hurt feelings or contention about it. All any of our family wants is for us to be happy and have a healthy baby. (I have to say again that I have the best family-in-law, especially Mummy Fantastic, that anybody could ask for. I could write an essay on the awesomeness of my mother-in-law alone.)]
Dr. O did mention that one of the best ways to help avoid a C-section is to labor at home for as long as possible. She said specifically not to come in right away and to keep active at home and that we should just give them a call when things got going. This totally makes sense with all the research we've done. The more time you're in the hospital, the more opportunity you have for them to start wanting to monitor you and do all kinds of "helpful" testing that actually doesn't really help much at all, and in fact, can lead to further intervention due to false positives. Plus, they generally give you a 24-hour window from the time your water breaks before they start worrying about infection and section you. So if you don't go in right away, they can't start the clock on you and that gives you extra time to progress.
One thing that did concern me was that Dr. O said they don't like to let people go more than a week beyond the due date before they induce. I'd prefer they allow two weeks, but hopefully this is not a battle we will have to fight. (Please, please, OMG, please do not let this baby go two weeks postdates! Oy. I already feel huge and waddly enough.) For another bunch of reasons, induction is something else we really, really want to avoid, so you can bet when the time comes, I will be doing every trick I can think of to get this baby to get started on his own.
We have started our childbirth preparation classes - 3 hours every Wednesday night for 4 weeks. The first week they didn't tell us much we didn't already know, but we did learn that Peanut is in the OPTIMAL BIRTHING POSITION, otherwise known as Left Occiput Anterior. That means head down and feet kicking me on the right, basically. We also did some relaxation stuff that was nice, but mostly it was anatomy and getting to know the other students. And she talked alot about how fear causes tension which causes pain, so if we went into the process well-educated, we wouldn't be as scared, therefore, we'd relax easier, ultimately resulting in less pain. Which I am totally down with. She handed out a sheet with some affirmations on it, one of which was something ridiculously cheesy like "My cervix is like a flower, the petals gently opening to welcome my child," and which totally cracked Mr. F and I up, and so we've decided our relaxation affirmation is going to be "My cervix is like a leaf on the wind." Except I don't know how relaxing that will be if we're cracking up every time we say it. Anyway, hopefully next time will be more educational.
Oh! And guess what? I have found a remedy for the ANGRY LADYPARTS. The swimming pool! It is actually a remedy for all pregnancy-related ills, because when we went swimming last night, aside from the obvious basketball I was smuggling, I could not even tell I was pregnant once I got in the water. It was like magic. Nothing hurt, at all! I mostly floated around (or had Mr. F tow me) on a couple of those pool noodles for an hour while Mr. F did the actual swimming part. And Peanut, who has spent the last two weeks working a foot up under the right side of my ribcage and waggling it around, OW, even seemed to enjoy it because he calmed right down and hardly walloped me at all. It was heavenly! I forgot the ladyparts were hurting until I got out of the pool. That was kind of a downer, but it was lovely being in the water and remembering what it was like to feel so light. Needless to say, we will be making much more use of the pool in the next fortysomething days. Ahh.
VH1 really does rock! In a trashy, train wreck sort of way.
VH1 has the most excellent programming ever. Aside from legitimately cool shows like Best Week Ever, Where Are They Now, Movies that Rock and their actual music stuff like blocks of videos, Top 20 Countdown and 100 Greatest, they have become kings of train wreck reality programming. As many of you know, I am a huge sucker for reality t.v. While I love my scripted shows, I have a giant soft spot for "unscripted" shows as well. My favorites are the classier of the genre, like Amazing Race and Biggest Loser, which tend to focus more on some kind of wholesome competition/goal/team thing. But there is something about these trashy, train wreck shows that basically focus on the FAIL of the cast that draws me in. I can't believe there are people who actually go out and behave this way on t.v., whether it's their "real" personality or not. It's mesmerizing, to see what people put out there.
New this year on VH1:
- Celebrity Rehab Sober House (which I haven't seen yet, but come on, if it's anything like Celebrity Rehab it can't fail but be train wreckingly awesome)
- Rock of Love Bus (Bret Michaels and his third try at finding his soulmate from among a bunch of trashy drunk whores)
- Confessions of a Teen Idol (a group of former teen idols move in together to talk about their train wreck lives and their desire to be famous again, and which includes among others, Adrian Zmed, Christopher Atkins, two dudes from Baywatch and Eric Nies, formerly of the first Real World and subsequent Mtv Workout show The Grind)
And the show I am watching now, Tool Academy. Which is the most unfailingly awesome of the new shows, in which a bunch of party animal jackasses' girlfriends nominated them for Boyfriend Improvement Camp, aka Tool Academy. The best part? The guys think they are competing for the title of MR. AWESOME. The realization that their girlfriends (and the rest of the viewing world) think they are a bunch of tools in need of serious intervention is only marginally tempered by the fact that the winner gets $100k.
Right now, the entire group of Tools plus their beleagured DTMFA* girlfriends are watching the Tools' candid confessional interviews, in which they brag about their exploits and how well they have their girlfriends trained and how much they cheat on them and in which they show their disrespectful, asshat, tool-y base natures. My god, these guys are serious tools and deserve all the beatdown they get. I cannot believe any of these women claims to love these guys.
Also awesome about this show is that when they do interveiws with each guy, they put his name up and below that, they put what kind of tool he is. For example, there's Rob: Power Tool (the biggest jackass of them all), and Matsuflex: Naked Tool (a stripper, that's his stage name), Josh: Tiny Tool (a little dude), and Tommy: Slacker Tool (jobless). Much in the same way that other shows call their contestants "bachelors" or whatever, this show consistently calls the guys Tools. As in, "Will the three remaining Tools please step forward?" AND THEY DO. They respond to being called tools, and have even begun to self-refer as such. I can't explain the awesome of this.
There are also apparently team challenges, like today's, where the girl has to build a bed and the guy has to read her the instructions and is unable to physically assist her. One of the girls is praised by the show therapist for "redirecting" her boyfriend and getting him to focus on the task at hand when he starts jackassing for the camera. The girl does this by saying, "Brian, can you focus on this now instead of being a tool?" This is what counts for good communication on this show. Snerk.
At the end of each week, one guy will be declared too toolicious to improve and will be expelled from Tool Academy, at which point his girlfriend will have to decide if she wants to break up with him now or later. And the way they're expelled? The host says, "I'm sorry...you're just a tool." Hee! It's also pretty priceless that some of them still think they're somehow still competing for the MR. AWESOME title, while others have realized that getting expelled means they're the biggest, faily-est tool in the cabinet. Or, as Joey: Cold Hearted Tool puts it upon his non-expulsion this week, "I may be a tool, but at least I'm not the Grand Poobah King Tool of 'em all." I can't wait for more episodes.
*DTMFA = Dump the motherfucker, already. Thank you, Dan Savage. Seriously, not a single one of these guys deserves the girl they are with, let alone ANY girl at all.
New this year on VH1:
- Celebrity Rehab Sober House (which I haven't seen yet, but come on, if it's anything like Celebrity Rehab it can't fail but be train wreckingly awesome)
- Rock of Love Bus (Bret Michaels and his third try at finding his soulmate from among a bunch of trashy drunk whores)
- Confessions of a Teen Idol (a group of former teen idols move in together to talk about their train wreck lives and their desire to be famous again, and which includes among others, Adrian Zmed, Christopher Atkins, two dudes from Baywatch and Eric Nies, formerly of the first Real World and subsequent Mtv Workout show The Grind)
And the show I am watching now, Tool Academy. Which is the most unfailingly awesome of the new shows, in which a bunch of party animal jackasses' girlfriends nominated them for Boyfriend Improvement Camp, aka Tool Academy. The best part? The guys think they are competing for the title of MR. AWESOME. The realization that their girlfriends (and the rest of the viewing world) think they are a bunch of tools in need of serious intervention is only marginally tempered by the fact that the winner gets $100k.
Right now, the entire group of Tools plus their beleagured DTMFA* girlfriends are watching the Tools' candid confessional interviews, in which they brag about their exploits and how well they have their girlfriends trained and how much they cheat on them and in which they show their disrespectful, asshat, tool-y base natures. My god, these guys are serious tools and deserve all the beatdown they get. I cannot believe any of these women claims to love these guys.
Also awesome about this show is that when they do interveiws with each guy, they put his name up and below that, they put what kind of tool he is. For example, there's Rob: Power Tool (the biggest jackass of them all), and Matsuflex: Naked Tool (a stripper, that's his stage name), Josh: Tiny Tool (a little dude), and Tommy: Slacker Tool (jobless). Much in the same way that other shows call their contestants "bachelors" or whatever, this show consistently calls the guys Tools. As in, "Will the three remaining Tools please step forward?" AND THEY DO. They respond to being called tools, and have even begun to self-refer as such. I can't explain the awesome of this.
There are also apparently team challenges, like today's, where the girl has to build a bed and the guy has to read her the instructions and is unable to physically assist her. One of the girls is praised by the show therapist for "redirecting" her boyfriend and getting him to focus on the task at hand when he starts jackassing for the camera. The girl does this by saying, "Brian, can you focus on this now instead of being a tool?" This is what counts for good communication on this show. Snerk.
At the end of each week, one guy will be declared too toolicious to improve and will be expelled from Tool Academy, at which point his girlfriend will have to decide if she wants to break up with him now or later. And the way they're expelled? The host says, "I'm sorry...you're just a tool." Hee! It's also pretty priceless that some of them still think they're somehow still competing for the MR. AWESOME title, while others have realized that getting expelled means they're the biggest, faily-est tool in the cabinet. Or, as Joey: Cold Hearted Tool puts it upon his non-expulsion this week, "I may be a tool, but at least I'm not the Grand Poobah King Tool of 'em all." I can't wait for more episodes.
*DTMFA = Dump the motherfucker, already. Thank you, Dan Savage. Seriously, not a single one of these guys deserves the girl they are with, let alone ANY girl at all.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Baby update
Week 33
Had an ultrasound and OB visit this morning. The ultrasound was to check growth, again, because Dr. Owens is crazy. Okay, it was actually because she's still worried about the gestational diabetes (because she is crazy.) So the scan was great and Susie the Ultrasound Lady estimates Peanut to be about 4 pounds 5 ounces and all the other measurements she took (like head circumfrence, femur length, etc.) show him to be measuring right on target - somewhere in the 50-52nd percentile.
I asked her where various parts were because I've been so lopsided on the right. My belly is all hard on the right, and that's also where I get most of the big movement, so I had kind of figured Peanut was all crammed over on the right side there. But it turns out, he is head down with his back to my left side. There's a big hard bump right in the middle, just above my belly button, which we had guessed was his butt and Susie the Ultrasound Lady confirmed that, but said that it's his hands, feet, elbows and knees all over there on the right and that's why I feel so much over there. I think maybe he's angled in there with his back more towards my back and all the small parts more toward the front and that's why it seems almost empty over on the left.
Then we saw Dr. Guggenheim, (one of Dr. O's partners because Dr. O is on vacation) who was very pleased with the scan and with my 4X daily glucose checks for the last almost-a-month. She measured me and said I'm right on target too and was extraordinarily pleased with my progress. She used the word perfect several times and said she wishes all their patients were like me. The best part is that she doesn't think I have GD at all. However, she wants me to contine testing myself every other day for the next two weeks (until next appt with Dr. O) or until I run out of my testing supplies. Progress! At least I get to cut back the finger-sticking a bit and hopefully, hopefully Dr. O will DROP IT ALREADY by next time.
Although there's no way to tell on the ultrasound, the book estimates Peanut is about 17 inches long and says he is mostly done cooking. Now all he's really doing is some final brain development and gaining weight. And, as warned by the book, I am experiencing shortness of breath frequently as Peanut is taking up more and more room and blithely shoving my organs around. It's really annoying to be sitting on the couch, panting like I just ran a marathon. Lots of deep breaths help, and thankfully, it's not all the time.
And good news, we got some great baby stuff for Christmas - some clothes, the softest teddy bear ever, a swing and somehow, each of my brothers ended up getting us a Pack n Play. We have traded one of those in for the stroller/carseat travel system, so yay! Peanut won't have to go naked or sleep in a drawer now. And even better, Steve says we can leave the big stuff at his place for as long as we need to, which will prolly be until my baby shower on Jan 24, at which point we're going to call it quits for a while on trying to sell the condo and make room for baby.
Ok, finally, I am going to tell you something very much TMI that nobody told me until I started asking my girlfriends about it and then many of them breezily said, oh, yes, that happened to me, la la la, as if it was nothing. For the last couple of weeks, my, er, external ladyparts HURT. I am achy from pubic bone to tailbone, all on the outside. It's very weird - feels like I've been excessively riding a bicycle with a really large seat and is making me walk funnier than I already do what with the pregnant waddle I've acquired.
The books tell you that your ladyparts may get "somewhat swollen" and "may turn a darker color." Let me tell you that when I finally examined the ladyparts in a mirror last night because they were hurting so much, I did not recognize my own vajayjay. They are not kidding about the swelling - the entire area is puffed up like I've never seen before and is a super dark red color. The hoo-ha looks ANGRY. (This is especially funny because Mr. Fantastic, being ever-supportive, was holding the mirror for me so I could have both hands free to examine the ladyparts, and we both had matching OMG faces upon getting an eyefull of my junk.)
This would have been nice to know ahead of time, and trust me when I tell you that the books' timid little "may do this" and "might get that" did not do justice to the angry tiki god in my pants. I mean, everybody knows about the barfing and peeing and hemorrhoids (which I thankfully have not gotten, KNOCK WOOD) but nobody told me that my ladyparts would eventually look and feel like they'd been flogged BEFORE the baby comes. I mean, I expect some unhappy ladyparts after having the baby but I was not prepared for the startled puffer fish to happen already.
The doctor assured me this morning that this is totally normal and that I can take Tylenol to help but that basically it's going to stay this way until the baby comes. I have also tried stuffing both a heating pad (very soothing and nice) and an ice pack (horrible, horrible, OMG, NO) down my pants. Oh, and she also mentioned stretching...which, um, I will gladly try but I don't see how that is going to help some of the more specific of the parts as opposed to the whole ladyregion in general.
That's it for now, all is well and I'm preening over being a perfect, perfect baby maker. :)
Had an ultrasound and OB visit this morning. The ultrasound was to check growth, again, because Dr. Owens is crazy. Okay, it was actually because she's still worried about the gestational diabetes (because she is crazy.) So the scan was great and Susie the Ultrasound Lady estimates Peanut to be about 4 pounds 5 ounces and all the other measurements she took (like head circumfrence, femur length, etc.) show him to be measuring right on target - somewhere in the 50-52nd percentile.
I asked her where various parts were because I've been so lopsided on the right. My belly is all hard on the right, and that's also where I get most of the big movement, so I had kind of figured Peanut was all crammed over on the right side there. But it turns out, he is head down with his back to my left side. There's a big hard bump right in the middle, just above my belly button, which we had guessed was his butt and Susie the Ultrasound Lady confirmed that, but said that it's his hands, feet, elbows and knees all over there on the right and that's why I feel so much over there. I think maybe he's angled in there with his back more towards my back and all the small parts more toward the front and that's why it seems almost empty over on the left.
Then we saw Dr. Guggenheim, (one of Dr. O's partners because Dr. O is on vacation) who was very pleased with the scan and with my 4X daily glucose checks for the last almost-a-month. She measured me and said I'm right on target too and was extraordinarily pleased with my progress. She used the word perfect several times and said she wishes all their patients were like me. The best part is that she doesn't think I have GD at all. However, she wants me to contine testing myself every other day for the next two weeks (until next appt with Dr. O) or until I run out of my testing supplies. Progress! At least I get to cut back the finger-sticking a bit and hopefully, hopefully Dr. O will DROP IT ALREADY by next time.
Although there's no way to tell on the ultrasound, the book estimates Peanut is about 17 inches long and says he is mostly done cooking. Now all he's really doing is some final brain development and gaining weight. And, as warned by the book, I am experiencing shortness of breath frequently as Peanut is taking up more and more room and blithely shoving my organs around. It's really annoying to be sitting on the couch, panting like I just ran a marathon. Lots of deep breaths help, and thankfully, it's not all the time.
And good news, we got some great baby stuff for Christmas - some clothes, the softest teddy bear ever, a swing and somehow, each of my brothers ended up getting us a Pack n Play. We have traded one of those in for the stroller/carseat travel system, so yay! Peanut won't have to go naked or sleep in a drawer now. And even better, Steve says we can leave the big stuff at his place for as long as we need to, which will prolly be until my baby shower on Jan 24, at which point we're going to call it quits for a while on trying to sell the condo and make room for baby.
Ok, finally, I am going to tell you something very much TMI that nobody told me until I started asking my girlfriends about it and then many of them breezily said, oh, yes, that happened to me, la la la, as if it was nothing. For the last couple of weeks, my, er, external ladyparts HURT. I am achy from pubic bone to tailbone, all on the outside. It's very weird - feels like I've been excessively riding a bicycle with a really large seat and is making me walk funnier than I already do what with the pregnant waddle I've acquired.
The books tell you that your ladyparts may get "somewhat swollen" and "may turn a darker color." Let me tell you that when I finally examined the ladyparts in a mirror last night because they were hurting so much, I did not recognize my own vajayjay. They are not kidding about the swelling - the entire area is puffed up like I've never seen before and is a super dark red color. The hoo-ha looks ANGRY. (This is especially funny because Mr. Fantastic, being ever-supportive, was holding the mirror for me so I could have both hands free to examine the ladyparts, and we both had matching OMG faces upon getting an eyefull of my junk.)
This would have been nice to know ahead of time, and trust me when I tell you that the books' timid little "may do this" and "might get that" did not do justice to the angry tiki god in my pants. I mean, everybody knows about the barfing and peeing and hemorrhoids (which I thankfully have not gotten, KNOCK WOOD) but nobody told me that my ladyparts would eventually look and feel like they'd been flogged BEFORE the baby comes. I mean, I expect some unhappy ladyparts after having the baby but I was not prepared for the startled puffer fish to happen already.
The doctor assured me this morning that this is totally normal and that I can take Tylenol to help but that basically it's going to stay this way until the baby comes. I have also tried stuffing both a heating pad (very soothing and nice) and an ice pack (horrible, horrible, OMG, NO) down my pants. Oh, and she also mentioned stretching...which, um, I will gladly try but I don't see how that is going to help some of the more specific of the parts as opposed to the whole ladyregion in general.
That's it for now, all is well and I'm preening over being a perfect, perfect baby maker. :)
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
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