Brandon (Baby Daddy) and I have fun pretending what Brynn is doing in utero. In fact we've made up a few situations that make us giggle, so I thought (until I get bored, distracted or otherwise just don't think it's funny anymore) I'd share here a number of posts called, "The Placenta Monologues."
Let me set the stage for you, Baby Daddy and I are both highly social, talkative people with short attention spans. Please do not use that against us or doubt our integrity, work ethic, or intelligence, it is just the case that we never run short of things to chat about. We suspect that with that kind of "skill set" coming from both genomes, our daughter will be a chatterer as well. She may even be holding conversations with her only companion right now, that companion is of course, Placenta or "Centa" as we imagine she's so familiar, she's given the placenta a nickname.
April 24, 2009
Centa, I'm glad you're here. I'm very bored and "you know who" is hardly ever paying attention to me. I hear her over and over, "Hello, this is Bridget at the Lottery." What does that even mean? Sometimes she pokes into my room and I try to reach her, but these damned fingers are good for nothing, so I just smack a fist at her.
Centa? Have you been here this whole time? Remember back to the holidays? Those were fun, so much going on and new places to stop and use the bathroom at. I was not cramped in here at all. Now it seems like she just sits. I hope tonight she sends down another one of those root beer floats. They really make me burp, but are they good . . .
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
Yes I'm pregnant, no you may not.
So, I realize I don't write often, sorry.
So, pregnancy is not that uncommon actually, look around, see anybody? They were born and therefore had 50% participation in a pregnancy. Why then, do people who you don't know, don't care about, don't speak to, don't respect the opinions of, offer anecdotes to you, offer you information on any topic under the sun and/or insist on touching you? I apologize here to any "well intentioned" person who falls into that category, but I've been doing my best to let all those "well intentions" roll off my back, but I've had a rough week and am feeling like addressing the feelings I'm experiencing - after all they are part of this miracle called pregnancy and everyone feels that my business is now their business right?
Pumping, nipple calluses, colostrum, milk storage, nipple preparedness, latching, side-switching etc. not topics for work, not topics to be discussed with your supervisor, not topics for me to discuss with hardly anyone! Let me share with you what my supervisor (yes my boss) shared with me yesterday and I'll let you know that this conversation came right on the heals of the Governor's speech on cutting my pay and possibly my job! I may not be 100% sure of what I'll feed the baby once she arrives, but if mommy's got no job or health insurance it won't much matter!
I have been asked by very considerate, but curious people if they could touch the belly or feel the baby kick. To them, I give an enthusiastic, "Yes, sure, let me help you feel where she's moving the most." To other people, with whom I feel comfortable, I offer, "Would you like to touch the belly?" Or, "She's moving now, do you want to feel?" In these instances, I am very happy to share my experiences, and to experience something very personal with you. It is exciting that she's moving around in there and getting bigger and stronger all the time.
Here is a recent shot of the belly and Brynn's room, it's nearly complete!
I'm sure anyone who reads this, who has ever been pregnant will find some truth to my rantings, my husband; however, thinks I'm just being angry.
Okay, so as "beautiful" as pregnancy is (and catch the hint of sarcasm here) it's personal, happening to some one's body, and EACH of us who has been born lived in a pregnant person for some point in our lives! As for the beauty aspect of this procedure, anyone ever pass gas while pregnant, or belched and had food come out, or acquired a new bodily odor, or developed super greasy hair or complexion, or had their feet look like baked potatoes, or leaked anything from anywhere or developed dark circles? You get my point, it ain't so "beautiful."
So, pregnancy is not that uncommon actually, look around, see anybody? They were born and therefore had 50% participation in a pregnancy. Why then, do people who you don't know, don't care about, don't speak to, don't respect the opinions of, offer anecdotes to you, offer you information on any topic under the sun and/or insist on touching you? I apologize here to any "well intentioned" person who falls into that category, but I've been doing my best to let all those "well intentions" roll off my back, but I've had a rough week and am feeling like addressing the feelings I'm experiencing - after all they are part of this miracle called pregnancy and everyone feels that my business is now their business right?
Okay, so the topic of breastfeeding, why is it anyone's business? Why would anyone care? Why would anyone have any interest, what-so-ever, in what I do with my ta tas? Why do you think I care about what you do with your ta tas?
I found it interesting the first few times I was asked, but by now I'm just plain old sick of the topic. You're pregnant, either people can see that or they've been told . . . why is the VERY NEXT question, "are you going to breastfeed?" I personally was shocked as Hell to learn I was expecting and it took a while for me to process that information alone, I did not need to be dragged into a discussion on what to feed the baby once it got here! I am not for or against breastfeeding, I don't really care, so WHY is it the topic everyone is dying to discuss?
Yes, I get the benefits, I can read about them all day if I want. I don't need your dissertation on the subject. Also, I understand the negatives and those too can be read about ad nauseum.
Pumping, nipple calluses, colostrum, milk storage, nipple preparedness, latching, side-switching etc. not topics for work, not topics to be discussed with your supervisor, not topics for me to discuss with hardly anyone! Let me share with you what my supervisor (yes my boss) shared with me yesterday and I'll let you know that this conversation came right on the heals of the Governor's speech on cutting my pay and possibly my job! I may not be 100% sure of what I'll feed the baby once she arrives, but if mommy's got no job or health insurance it won't much matter!
Preface - this conversation took place in the office, in my work unit; not in a private area like a conference room or a restroom. "Bridget, you're going to breastfeed right?" "I'll try, I'm not committed one way or the other." (My first unsuccessful attempt at "not your business, boss.") "Oh well you'll have to the first couple days while you're at the hospital anyway." "Oh." "What you've got to do is; and my daughters told me I was right after they had their babies and didn't do it is, when you're in the shower take a washcloth and really rub on your nipples, it'll really hurt and be sore, but you need to start getting a callus. Start doing it now, you're already 7 months." I don't say much at this point, but my jaw has dropped. "Oh are you using butter?" "What? No." "Cocoa butter, on your belly so you don't get stretch marks?" "Oh yes I do use the cocoa butter, I don't have any marks, my belly is just pale white, but smooth." "Oh and know where else you need to use it? Your boobs and your butt, my boobs look like a road map now." She pulls down her shirt so I can see, obliging I raise my shirt and show part of my smooth pale belly. She continues, "Yeah my husband jokes about my nipples now, they're huge, my kids had a mouthful." "Oh," I put my head down and walk back to my desk.
Why did I need to have that experience? I don't know, but I promise you this, dear reader, unless you ask specific questions about my pregnancy, I will not offer you unsolicited advice.
Oh yeah sure, it's just part of my body, go ahead and touch.
I've seen a number of men with protruding stomachs, a large percentage of non-pregnant women have them too. I've never run up and felt their bulges or stared for long periods of time at the parts of their structure that go past their skeletons. You get pregnant though, and the one thing that you're supposed to be protecting and keeping healthy is now property of the world. I don't let just anyone touch my dogs or come in my house, why would I welcome your grubby little hands to investigate my person. Until I was in "the family way" I just didn't realize how real of an experience the belly touching phenomenon is, I thought those women were simply exaggerating their encounters, not so. Strangers and non-friends are the first groups to grope.
I have been asked by very considerate, but curious people if they could touch the belly or feel the baby kick. To them, I give an enthusiastic, "Yes, sure, let me help you feel where she's moving the most." To other people, with whom I feel comfortable, I offer, "Would you like to touch the belly?" Or, "She's moving now, do you want to feel?" In these instances, I am very happy to share my experiences, and to experience something very personal with you. It is exciting that she's moving around in there and getting bigger and stronger all the time.
I wish that Brandon could have more of the "female" participation in this. He would really enjoy the special bonding time and being around for all of those kicks and movements. In addition to his being more parental than me, he's taller with a longer torso and wouldn't look quite so much like a baked potato.
Here is a recent shot of the belly and Brynn's room, it's nearly complete!
Bridget, Brandon, Michael and Samantha.
Brynn's crib (thank you, Mimi and Grampy!), bookcase and the rocker Grandma Hud gave us.
Brandon did all the painting and my Grandma Hud and I made the drapes.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
So what is it?
Our minds are still reeling from the 7 weeks we've known we'd be having a baby, even though we're at week 22. You'd be in a jumble too. Most expectant couples spend those first 2 months sharing an intimate secret, picking names, dreaming about what the misses would look like with a baby belly, thinking about how they'd tell their parents that soon they'd be grandparents, and all those plans that people make. Instead of 2 months, we had 2 days of those secret plans before my belly popped and the "world" knew we were pregnant. Not that I'm making excuses, I'm just saying there's been a lot to digest in a short period of time with an even shorter period of time to get ready for baby. We hit the ground running, we're like the Marines of pregnancy, we not only just jumped out of a helicopter, but there was no parachute and we're landing in a rice pattie full of Charlie.
So when you find out you're pregnant at week 17, and have a 20 week ultrasound where the sonographer can determine the sex of your baby, you figure you might as well know, right? I mean since you're now into knowing things the more the better, and people are going to ask.
So we're excited now because all that waiting had been killing us, 3 whole weeks to find out if baby Buell is a boy or a girl!?
Have you had an ultrasound? Have you been told about this "full bladder" business?? Have you tried to maintain even the tinsiest bit of pee in your bladder? Have you ever tried to maintain the tinsiest bit of pee in your bladder while you've been 5 months pregnant? This is like sniper training, if the rest has been like being in the Marines. So, Brandon picks me up to make our appointment with the sonographer, I've now had 2 - 16.9 oz. bottles of water and a 12 oz. bottle of juice to ensure that indeed my bladder is good and full as they require. "DON'T DRIVE CRAZY!" "DON'T HIT ANY BUMPS!" We make it to the clinic. Brandon drops me at the door and I waddle in, he parks the truck and meets me inside. "There will be a short wait"; perfect. We take our seats across from and older gentleman sitting by himself. After a failed attempt at reading 'National Geographic en Espanol', Brandon finds himself looking around the waiting room, he sees a restroom and uses it. I hate him with every ounce of my being for that. Once Brandon returns, the older gentleman strikes up a conversation with us. Topic of this conversation - his colonoscopy. Right now discussing someone else's trips to the bathroom are near the bottom of my list of things to discuss, particularly with a stranger. Not that I don't have compassion for my fellow man or the polyps they've found in this man, I just needed to keep my brain away from discussions involving toilets, bowels, frequency, etc. I've been holding it now for about 20 minutes, to alleviate the stress on my bladder I stand up. I now have the attention of the entire waiting room crowd, including the receptionist who makes a face at me like, "oh no, please don't let her be a terrorist." I grimaced and said with my best, trying to be quiet but still moving my lips voice, "I just really have to pee." She, looking relieved, started up a tutorial on how I could maybe use some trick . . . the door opened and the technician called me back. Whew! Boy was I excited to get this appointment moving! I hop up on the table and the sonographer starts the exam. "Whoa, your bladder is too full. You need to get some of that out." On the screen is a BIG BLACK BLOB underneath that, a tiny shuddering fetus. "Is that my bladder?" "Yes, take this cup and fill it twice, then I'll be able to see your baby better." She hands me a 12 oz. styrofoam coffee cup. I fill it twice and come back to the exam feeling much relieved. She starts again, with what she had described as a 2 hour exam. "It's still too full, go fill the cup twice again." I'm not one to brag, or maybe I am, but it required some pretty mad ninja skills to stop peeing after two cupfuls the first time, but if I had 2 hours before I'd be "going" for real, I took a stab at filling that cup for the second time. Success! Again I get back up on the table for the exam. STILL TOO FULL, she tells me just to go and empty my bladder until I am comfortable. (Remember, you and I have been told that a full bladder is of the utmost importance in getting a good ultrasound picture.) Now I go to the toilet and, nothing. My body had decided that this was some kind of evil torture and to hold on. After 5 minutes I finally started to pee and got it all out.
Back up on the table for the 3rd time, we start the exam. Brandon and I keeping our eyes intent on the screen for a glimpse at what could tell us, boy or girl. The technician was very interested in measuring the head, it seemed like she measured and re-measured the size of baby's head for an hour. As much as we want all parts to be "normal" and functioning, the head was not really the body part of intrigue today. She keeps measuring and remeasuring things, time ticking away and no big announcement. Instead, after like an hour and a half of looking at the "head." She calmly says, "Well, I'm not seeing a penis." Brandon and I look at each other and both say, "but isn't that the head?" "No that's not the head, that's the abdomen." Relieved we both say, "good because we wouldn't want one there. So what are you telling us?" She says, "I think you're getting a pink one." (Secretly that's what we wanted and were delighted out of our skin, but wanted to maintain our "we're really glad so long as it's healthy" faces.) I want to know just how confident she is with her guess. "I work at the Lottery and do a fair bit of explaining odds, tell me out of how many total guesses you've been correct." She says 99%. Good enough for us. As we leave the clinic we call all the grandparents and aunts and uncles to tell them the news. We were particularly concerned with Grandma Buell as she had instructed us to have a girl.
So that's the story, Brynn Alicyn will arrive sometime in July.
Now the fun part - shopping!
So when you find out you're pregnant at week 17, and have a 20 week ultrasound where the sonographer can determine the sex of your baby, you figure you might as well know, right? I mean since you're now into knowing things the more the better, and people are going to ask.
So we're excited now because all that waiting had been killing us, 3 whole weeks to find out if baby Buell is a boy or a girl!?
Have you had an ultrasound? Have you been told about this "full bladder" business?? Have you tried to maintain even the tinsiest bit of pee in your bladder? Have you ever tried to maintain the tinsiest bit of pee in your bladder while you've been 5 months pregnant? This is like sniper training, if the rest has been like being in the Marines. So, Brandon picks me up to make our appointment with the sonographer, I've now had 2 - 16.9 oz. bottles of water and a 12 oz. bottle of juice to ensure that indeed my bladder is good and full as they require. "DON'T DRIVE CRAZY!" "DON'T HIT ANY BUMPS!" We make it to the clinic. Brandon drops me at the door and I waddle in, he parks the truck and meets me inside. "There will be a short wait"; perfect. We take our seats across from and older gentleman sitting by himself. After a failed attempt at reading 'National Geographic en Espanol', Brandon finds himself looking around the waiting room, he sees a restroom and uses it. I hate him with every ounce of my being for that. Once Brandon returns, the older gentleman strikes up a conversation with us. Topic of this conversation - his colonoscopy. Right now discussing someone else's trips to the bathroom are near the bottom of my list of things to discuss, particularly with a stranger. Not that I don't have compassion for my fellow man or the polyps they've found in this man, I just needed to keep my brain away from discussions involving toilets, bowels, frequency, etc. I've been holding it now for about 20 minutes, to alleviate the stress on my bladder I stand up. I now have the attention of the entire waiting room crowd, including the receptionist who makes a face at me like, "oh no, please don't let her be a terrorist." I grimaced and said with my best, trying to be quiet but still moving my lips voice, "I just really have to pee." She, looking relieved, started up a tutorial on how I could maybe use some trick . . . the door opened and the technician called me back. Whew! Boy was I excited to get this appointment moving! I hop up on the table and the sonographer starts the exam. "Whoa, your bladder is too full. You need to get some of that out." On the screen is a BIG BLACK BLOB underneath that, a tiny shuddering fetus. "Is that my bladder?" "Yes, take this cup and fill it twice, then I'll be able to see your baby better." She hands me a 12 oz. styrofoam coffee cup. I fill it twice and come back to the exam feeling much relieved. She starts again, with what she had described as a 2 hour exam. "It's still too full, go fill the cup twice again." I'm not one to brag, or maybe I am, but it required some pretty mad ninja skills to stop peeing after two cupfuls the first time, but if I had 2 hours before I'd be "going" for real, I took a stab at filling that cup for the second time. Success! Again I get back up on the table for the exam. STILL TOO FULL, she tells me just to go and empty my bladder until I am comfortable. (Remember, you and I have been told that a full bladder is of the utmost importance in getting a good ultrasound picture.) Now I go to the toilet and, nothing. My body had decided that this was some kind of evil torture and to hold on. After 5 minutes I finally started to pee and got it all out.
Back up on the table for the 3rd time, we start the exam. Brandon and I keeping our eyes intent on the screen for a glimpse at what could tell us, boy or girl. The technician was very interested in measuring the head, it seemed like she measured and re-measured the size of baby's head for an hour. As much as we want all parts to be "normal" and functioning, the head was not really the body part of intrigue today. She keeps measuring and remeasuring things, time ticking away and no big announcement. Instead, after like an hour and a half of looking at the "head." She calmly says, "Well, I'm not seeing a penis." Brandon and I look at each other and both say, "but isn't that the head?" "No that's not the head, that's the abdomen." Relieved we both say, "good because we wouldn't want one there. So what are you telling us?" She says, "I think you're getting a pink one." (Secretly that's what we wanted and were delighted out of our skin, but wanted to maintain our "we're really glad so long as it's healthy" faces.) I want to know just how confident she is with her guess. "I work at the Lottery and do a fair bit of explaining odds, tell me out of how many total guesses you've been correct." She says 99%. Good enough for us. As we leave the clinic we call all the grandparents and aunts and uncles to tell them the news. We were particularly concerned with Grandma Buell as she had instructed us to have a girl.
So that's the story, Brynn Alicyn will arrive sometime in July.
Now the fun part - shopping!
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
You'll shoot your eye out.
I'm 18 weeks pregnant now and these past few days have been eye-opening. No, I probably won't shoot them out they're open so wide, but what you've heard is true, you can pee your pants. I'd heard it before and thought, "losers, I'm fully potty-trained, I ain't gonna pee my pants no matter what."
He he he, life will smack you in the head, I mean read my previous post if you want to see about life and collisions with my head.
So Monday night I'm getting ready to leave the house for a music class and decide I'd better use the bathroom before I'm stuck in the class for a couple hours, on my way to the bathroom, I sneeze three times. "Achoo, Achoo, Achoo, I peed!" Brandon follows me on my run to the bathroom, where we survey the damage and both laugh until we cry.
Today at work, I giggled and you guessed it, more pee. I use pantyliners now. I guess I'll be relying on them until July.
I hate being pregnant.
He he he, life will smack you in the head, I mean read my previous post if you want to see about life and collisions with my head.
So Monday night I'm getting ready to leave the house for a music class and decide I'd better use the bathroom before I'm stuck in the class for a couple hours, on my way to the bathroom, I sneeze three times. "Achoo, Achoo, Achoo, I peed!" Brandon follows me on my run to the bathroom, where we survey the damage and both laugh until we cry.
Today at work, I giggled and you guessed it, more pee. I use pantyliners now. I guess I'll be relying on them until July.
I hate being pregnant.
Telling your husband he's a "baby daddy."
So if you've read my blog before you probably get that I'm not a huge "baby person", nor has it been my life's dream/plan/vision to make babies. That being said, it's actually a pretty humorous story how we find ourselves in the boat of expectant parents.
If you go back to my nose job post http://rantsandcommentswithbibi.blogspot.com/2008/11/new-nose.html, that takes us all the way back to October. At that point in time we tossed around the idea of baby makin', but because I'd be having surgery we waited to "try" until after I was free and clear of the surgery and pain meds, besides looking at those pictures I was, "none too sexy." We make an "attempt," I have a negative pregnancy test and what I think is a period a couple weeks later. Whew! Scary, but looks like we're in the clear! Besides the holidays are coming and I've got traveling to do and that massive Thanksgiving meal to prepare, I don't have time to be pregnant and I wasn't 100% on that plan anyhow.
I have some weight gain and a couple pimples, but who didn't put on a little weight over the holidiays? In addition to recovering from my surgery and "taking it easy" I added a bulging disc to the equation and could barely walk, so exercise took a back seat. Now those extra pounds and sleepiness don't seem completely out of the norm.
Holiday parties commence and just to be sure it's safe to partake in the free-flowing booze I take another pregnancy test just to be sure that's not the reason for the weight gain. Again, negative. So I live up the holiday season adding a squishiness to my middle, but writing it off as my back problem and the holiday eating. I've had 2 negative pregnancy tests by now and not really a "missed" period. Yes the periods were "different," but not non-existent.
Here I'll tell you about my sister. I am the older sister by 15 months. For my entire life, I've been strong and healthy. In recent years I've endured some interesting health situations, but nothing life-threatening or chronic. Two years ago my thyroid went crazy and I had what is called, Hashimoto's Thyroiditis. This is a temporary thyroid condition that allowed me to experience EVERY POSSIBLE thyroid symptom. I went from being very hyper-thyroid to very hypo-thyroid. Insomnia, diarrhea, hair falling out, constipation, weight loss, weight gain, falling asleep in the middle of the day, skin rashes, holes through my fingernails, and a bunch of other symptoms that came and went over the course of the year that it took my body to re-regulate and correct itself. With that in mind, those "pregnancy" symptoms that most people pick up on, I was able to dismiss, especially since I didn't suffer any type of morning/day/night sickness, and the few days I didn't feel great were during cold and flu season and everyone seemed to not feel "awesome." My sister on the other hand, has suffered numerous breast and ovarian cysts, she's even had surgery to remove these from her body. When I described an "ache" in my side to her (an R.N.) she seemed to think that I too could now be suffering from an ovarian cyst.
We're now into January and a few weeks ahead of my expected January period. My sister said to keep an eye on it and call my doctor if the ache persisted. I wait a few weeks, take ANOTHER pregnancy test (also negative) and call the doctor. They agree that my symptoms do sound like a cyst and that some Ibuprofen and my period (when it comes) should take care of it. Well that period never came. I take another pregnancy test - you guessed it, NEGATIVE and yes, I used my pee not Brandon's or the dogs'. That's 4 negative pregnancy tests, so I call the doctor and say I really should get in for an appointment, because in addition to this pesky cyst, my throat is sore and I should get a strep test too. So on Thursday, February 5, I get into the doctor. I pee in a cup so they can see if there's a bladder infection or something else going on causing my abdominal pain. Naturally, the doctor decides to perform a pelvic exam to get a handle on this cyst. So picture it, I'm up on the table, feet in the stirrups, doctor "in there", nurse holding my legs and a knock at the door. I say "everybody come on in", I mean who would want to miss this party, I'm doing my big show after all? The voice at the door belongs to the laboratory technician and she says, "it's positive." Now there are eyes at me. I say, "what's positive, I haven't had my strep test yet." The faces attached to those eyes realize that I have no idea what they are talking about, how they all got it so quickly I don't know, but I'm pretty embarrassed by my ignorance. The nurse, so sweet, says "congratulations, you're pregnant!" I don't think I blinked through the rest of the appointment. The doctor continues the pelvic exam takes a guess at 10-12 weeks along and schedules me for an ultrasound so we can pinpoint my real due date and when this "blessed event" occurred. The doc also checked, and no strep either.
Those home tests, can be wrong - very wrong. The doctor told me that in addition to testing too early, you can test too late. Apparently so, since I was about 12 weeks for the last test I took.
Still in shock, I leave the clinic and call Brandon. "Where are you?" "In a meeting in Cottage Grove for another 20 minutes." "Okay, come home when you're done." I could wait for 20 minutes to tell him that his dream was coming true, right? The dream that he's had since we met that I did not share, but figured we could have a happy life without despite that. I'll be honest and tell you that we've often talked about divorcing so he could pursue a life and a marriage that could provide him with his life-long dream of fatherhood. Don't hate me here, I was trying to provide an out for him if a life with me didn't truly make him happy. I would be perfectly happy living to a ripe old age never pushing a person out of my body, and then raising said person to a level of competency that would allow them to grow up, and one day make me into a grandmother. After all those discussions, we decided to pursue our life together and look into other avenues to satisfy that parenting instinct.
So 50 minutes later (if you know Brandon, 20 minutes is just an initial negotiation point) he finally gets home. I meet him at the door with the camera and say, "I don't have strep, we're having a baby."
If you go back to my nose job post http://rantsandcommentswithbibi.blogspot.com/2008/11/new-nose.html, that takes us all the way back to October. At that point in time we tossed around the idea of baby makin', but because I'd be having surgery we waited to "try" until after I was free and clear of the surgery and pain meds, besides looking at those pictures I was, "none too sexy." We make an "attempt," I have a negative pregnancy test and what I think is a period a couple weeks later. Whew! Scary, but looks like we're in the clear! Besides the holidays are coming and I've got traveling to do and that massive Thanksgiving meal to prepare, I don't have time to be pregnant and I wasn't 100% on that plan anyhow.
I have some weight gain and a couple pimples, but who didn't put on a little weight over the holidiays? In addition to recovering from my surgery and "taking it easy" I added a bulging disc to the equation and could barely walk, so exercise took a back seat. Now those extra pounds and sleepiness don't seem completely out of the norm.
Holiday parties commence and just to be sure it's safe to partake in the free-flowing booze I take another pregnancy test just to be sure that's not the reason for the weight gain. Again, negative. So I live up the holiday season adding a squishiness to my middle, but writing it off as my back problem and the holiday eating. I've had 2 negative pregnancy tests by now and not really a "missed" period. Yes the periods were "different," but not non-existent.
Here I'll tell you about my sister. I am the older sister by 15 months. For my entire life, I've been strong and healthy. In recent years I've endured some interesting health situations, but nothing life-threatening or chronic. Two years ago my thyroid went crazy and I had what is called, Hashimoto's Thyroiditis. This is a temporary thyroid condition that allowed me to experience EVERY POSSIBLE thyroid symptom. I went from being very hyper-thyroid to very hypo-thyroid. Insomnia, diarrhea, hair falling out, constipation, weight loss, weight gain, falling asleep in the middle of the day, skin rashes, holes through my fingernails, and a bunch of other symptoms that came and went over the course of the year that it took my body to re-regulate and correct itself. With that in mind, those "pregnancy" symptoms that most people pick up on, I was able to dismiss, especially since I didn't suffer any type of morning/day/night sickness, and the few days I didn't feel great were during cold and flu season and everyone seemed to not feel "awesome." My sister on the other hand, has suffered numerous breast and ovarian cysts, she's even had surgery to remove these from her body. When I described an "ache" in my side to her (an R.N.) she seemed to think that I too could now be suffering from an ovarian cyst.
We're now into January and a few weeks ahead of my expected January period. My sister said to keep an eye on it and call my doctor if the ache persisted. I wait a few weeks, take ANOTHER pregnancy test (also negative) and call the doctor. They agree that my symptoms do sound like a cyst and that some Ibuprofen and my period (when it comes) should take care of it. Well that period never came. I take another pregnancy test - you guessed it, NEGATIVE and yes, I used my pee not Brandon's or the dogs'. That's 4 negative pregnancy tests, so I call the doctor and say I really should get in for an appointment, because in addition to this pesky cyst, my throat is sore and I should get a strep test too. So on Thursday, February 5, I get into the doctor. I pee in a cup so they can see if there's a bladder infection or something else going on causing my abdominal pain. Naturally, the doctor decides to perform a pelvic exam to get a handle on this cyst. So picture it, I'm up on the table, feet in the stirrups, doctor "in there", nurse holding my legs and a knock at the door. I say "everybody come on in", I mean who would want to miss this party, I'm doing my big show after all? The voice at the door belongs to the laboratory technician and she says, "it's positive." Now there are eyes at me. I say, "what's positive, I haven't had my strep test yet." The faces attached to those eyes realize that I have no idea what they are talking about, how they all got it so quickly I don't know, but I'm pretty embarrassed by my ignorance. The nurse, so sweet, says "congratulations, you're pregnant!" I don't think I blinked through the rest of the appointment. The doctor continues the pelvic exam takes a guess at 10-12 weeks along and schedules me for an ultrasound so we can pinpoint my real due date and when this "blessed event" occurred. The doc also checked, and no strep either.
Those home tests, can be wrong - very wrong. The doctor told me that in addition to testing too early, you can test too late. Apparently so, since I was about 12 weeks for the last test I took.
Still in shock, I leave the clinic and call Brandon. "Where are you?" "In a meeting in Cottage Grove for another 20 minutes." "Okay, come home when you're done." I could wait for 20 minutes to tell him that his dream was coming true, right? The dream that he's had since we met that I did not share, but figured we could have a happy life without despite that. I'll be honest and tell you that we've often talked about divorcing so he could pursue a life and a marriage that could provide him with his life-long dream of fatherhood. Don't hate me here, I was trying to provide an out for him if a life with me didn't truly make him happy. I would be perfectly happy living to a ripe old age never pushing a person out of my body, and then raising said person to a level of competency that would allow them to grow up, and one day make me into a grandmother. After all those discussions, we decided to pursue our life together and look into other avenues to satisfy that parenting instinct.
So 50 minutes later (if you know Brandon, 20 minutes is just an initial negotiation point) he finally gets home. I meet him at the door with the camera and say, "I don't have strep, we're having a baby."
I think within 24 hours he'd told everyone we'd ever met.
The Saturday after we found out we we're expecting, (2 days later) I had to buy maternity pants, as the belly literally popped out. I had gone up two pant sizes in the previous 4 months and was relieved that I wasn't just getting fatter.
Whew! That's the story of how we found ourselves here, pregnant, not knowing for all that time (at our ultrasound that next week, they determined that we were 17 weeks - and indeed that "try" that we'd made back in October had took. This is the speediest pregnancy ever. We find out we're pregnant, get a cute "belly", and at our 20 week ultrasound next week, we find out if it's a boy or a girl.
Oh and in case you're interested, here's a copy of the email I sent that Monday to my co-workers announcing my pregnancy.
Bridget M - DOR
Sent: Monday, February 09, 2009 8:13 AM
To: DOR DL (LOT)ALL
Subject: Mmmmm doughnuts
Hi there,
Firstly, I want to express my sincerest apology to those of you who, over the past 3 months, may have experienced one of my many mood swings or have been trampled by me on my stampede to the ladies' room. Secondly, I'd like to express appreciation to those of you who may have noticed an increase in acne or a pronounced weight gain and didn't feel the need to point it out to me. (Trust me, I'm aware of it.) My guess is that over the next 6 months the weight will continue to increase and in addition to acne and trips to the restroom, I may experience a whole host of interesting symptoms.
So in honor of you and your patience and understanding there are doughnuts in the tel-sell lounge. Please help yourself.
Sincerely,
Bridget and Belly
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Type O Hero!
So yesterday we had our first appointment with our doctor - actually not the first time we've met him. He's been our "regular" doctor for about 8 years now. Now he's just putting on his OB hat; and I'm putting on weight and maternity pants. They took blood, pee and measurements. I'm told that this is standard operating procedure from here on out. I guess so far, so good. Our doctor, thankfully, is taking the "it's not a problem, unless you make it a problem" approach to our pregnancy; and since we didn't know we were pregnant until we were 4 months in, this will suit our personalities just fine. We are now scheduled for our second ultrasound (the first actually determined our due date, which is; drum roll . . . . July 24) and at this second one we should be able to learn the gender of what we've been referring to as "Belly." I will tell you that we're hoping for a girl, and I'll also tell you, "that a boy would be fine", because I am supposed to say that. Truthfully, so long as all of its parts are where they belong and "Belly" isn't predisposed to riding the short bus, we'll take what we get. It's just that all of our friends have just had boys and our sister-in-law is expecting a boy in 6 weeks; and it would be fun to shop in the "pink" section.
Oh so the "Type O Hero" thing - I have the rare blood type of O-. I know, you can hold your applause until I say something truly spectacular like this, "I am donating my cord blood" so if someone should need healthy cord blood from a healthy type O- gal it will be saved. Okay, that's all about that, but I am excited because it seems pretty space-age to me. The website of the company that will be preserving my cord blood is kinda cute about it, I'll paint a mind picture for you. Now that you're registered and you have your information kit, Step 1 - simply call us when you go into labor. We will prepare storage for your donation. (happy couple in car on way to hospital.) Step 2 - call us when you have delivered the baby and we will dispatch our courier service to pick up your donation (cute mother holding infant, while on telephone in hospital room.) Step 3 - our courier service brings your donation to our state-of-the art cryogenic facility (smiling man in van and then a picture of a stainless steel refrigeration unit with frost rolling out.)
That's it - you may have saved another life! Ta da!
Oh so the "Type O Hero" thing - I have the rare blood type of O-. I know, you can hold your applause until I say something truly spectacular like this, "I am donating my cord blood" so if someone should need healthy cord blood from a healthy type O- gal it will be saved. Okay, that's all about that, but I am excited because it seems pretty space-age to me. The website of the company that will be preserving my cord blood is kinda cute about it, I'll paint a mind picture for you. Now that you're registered and you have your information kit, Step 1 - simply call us when you go into labor. We will prepare storage for your donation. (happy couple in car on way to hospital.) Step 2 - call us when you have delivered the baby and we will dispatch our courier service to pick up your donation (cute mother holding infant, while on telephone in hospital room.) Step 3 - our courier service brings your donation to our state-of-the art cryogenic facility (smiling man in van and then a picture of a stainless steel refrigeration unit with frost rolling out.)
That's it - you may have saved another life! Ta da!
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
A bun in the "proverbial" oven.
After careful planning and consideration, we're pregnant! Okay, so you "get" the messy details, and you know the kind of considerate words my husband was whispering or panting . . . ipso-facto, boom a baby B is on the way.
So anywho . . . we'll be celebrating our 9th wedding anniversary before baby arrives, we've had discussion after discussion, and feel pretty confident that we're as freaked out as the next guy. If teenagers can do it and the woman from California can have 14 - ahem, we'll NOT go down the road of how we feel about that, we suspect that with all the thinking, talking and "research" we've done, we'll be able to parent in our own unique and successful way and can mess up a kid with the same level of skill as those who haven't pre-thought . After all, you've never seen a pair of well-adjusted, kind, intelligent dogs like ours.
We are the kind of people that will put a fair amount of prayer in, leaning on our parents (after all, look how nice we turned out), and plain old shooting from the hip. If we can make a marriage work, we can do this. Right?
I guess this explains my fascination with Sonic Drive-In.
From here on out I'll try to get you the latest on the baby. First ultrasound is Friday the 13th! We'll know our due date then.
So anywho . . . we'll be celebrating our 9th wedding anniversary before baby arrives, we've had discussion after discussion, and feel pretty confident that we're as freaked out as the next guy. If teenagers can do it and the woman from California can have 14 - ahem, we'll NOT go down the road of how we feel about that, we suspect that with all the thinking, talking and "research" we've done, we'll be able to parent in our own unique and successful way and can mess up a kid with the same level of skill as those who haven't pre-thought . After all, you've never seen a pair of well-adjusted, kind, intelligent dogs like ours.
We are the kind of people that will put a fair amount of prayer in, leaning on our parents (after all, look how nice we turned out), and plain old shooting from the hip. If we can make a marriage work, we can do this. Right?
I guess this explains my fascination with Sonic Drive-In.
From here on out I'll try to get you the latest on the baby. First ultrasound is Friday the 13th! We'll know our due date then.
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