ultrasound

PregnancyThe Story

It’s super fun to freak mom out, even in utero.

by Jill
written by Jill

Yesterday I was drifting off for my daily, much needed afternoon nap when I caught myself thinking I might have felt the baby. Then I had a hearty laugh and reminded myself I’m only 12 weeks, and no, that was not the baby, more like it was breakfast working it’s way through my digestive track.

I mean, it TOTALLY *felt* like a baby. It really did. It felt like what I used to feel when I’d reach down and rub my tummy while pregnant with Kendall, thinking it was my sweet, active boy. Knowing now what I didn’t know then, though, I know that probably half the time I was oohing and aahing and rubbing and patting, it was just my intestines… cute, maybe? no?… but not a baby. I know this because of the Phantom Baby Kick Phenomenon that occurs long after all inhabitants have exited your uterus.

But, I have to admit, it was fun to get a little carried away, to start thinking about when I really might feel the baby. I fell asleep quite content and happy. I woke up, having to pee, of course, only to have Mother Nature be all “Get ready for an emotional roller coaster, beyotch.” I was spotting/bleeding. Bright pink/reddish. It was more than I’ve spotted this whole pregnancy. I know, I know, spotting is common. Most of the time it’s nothing. I spotted so much with Kendall that really this shouldn’t have alarmed me, except I just haven’t spotted much with this pregnancy, and I was really liking that sense of security that came with it. I wasn’t bracing myself for what I saw on the toilet paper yesterday. Not like I used to with Kendall. Every time I went to the bathroom last pregnancy, I was like, “No whammies, no whammies,” before I’d wipe. This just came out of nowhere.

So we moved my 12 week appointment, set for early next week, up to today. I did my best not to freak out all morning, although my best sucked. Fact- I will ALWAYS be a bitch the morning of any prenatal appointment. Fact- I will try to pick fights with my husband.

So we sat in the waiting room for what seemed like a FREAKING ETERNITY, and my phone rang. It was Kendall’s Mother’s Day Out Program. I held my breath. “Mrs. Krause? Kendall had an accident. We want to let you know what’s going on and you can choose to come get him if you’d like.” Shit.

The tone of her voice made me envision broken bones and stitches. The office is 3o minutes from the church he’s at. I braced myself.

“Kendall was running in the gym and he fell and hit his head. He has a pretty big bump, but we put ice on it and we’ve monitored it. We’ve checked his pupils and we’ve kept and eye on him for nausea and sleepiness.”

Waiting…silence.. and?

“So, if it makes you feel better, you’re welcome to come check him out and make sure he’s okay.”

“Is he bleeding? Is he crying still?”

“No. He’s not bleeding. It’s just a pretty big bump on his forehead. He stopped crying when we took the ice off.”

Noggin bumps are a pretty common occurrence for us. Hell, they’d done 10 times more than I’ve ever done when he hit his head. He’s in much better hands there than he is with me, apparently.

“You know, I’m not worried. Sounds like you guys handled it well, and as long as he seems to be okay, I’ll just wait to pick him up at the end of the day.’

All that commotion certainly helped get my mind off the worry, and I had to laugh. Am I too nonchalant a parent? Am I callous and cold? I know they were doing their job, and I’m so glad they keep me in the loop. I just hope they don’t think I’m uncaring for not opting to go check him out.

Finally the nurse called us back, took my weight, made me pee in a cup, get undressed from the waist down, then wait ANOTHER ETERNITY in the ultrasound room. Fact- I will not indulge my husband in small talk while in the ultrasound room no matter how hard he tries. Fact- He will most likely annoy the shit out of me.

The OB checked out my cervix and reminded me about the polyps that were there. I knew this at the last appointment, but never thought to attribute the bleeding to them since the bleeding seemed to come from nowhere (i.e. my husband was out of town at the time I started bleeding if you know what I mean). She told me to just reside myself to random bleeding throughout the pregnancy. Super.

Then she sent the dildo cam up on an expedition. I turned my head, closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see anything bad come up on the screen. I held my breath until I heard the words, “Wow. Big baby!” I slowly turned and looked. Oh my. There it was. A fully formed little baby, doing a little jig. “There’s the heartbeat,” and then it happened. I cried tears of relief.  It stretched out and danced around. We got some great pictures and even saw a tiny little profile. Fact- I will thank everyone in the room profusely after I see my healthy baby.

It never gets easier, does it? I was explaining to Scott on the drive there that it’s the strangest thing, being solely responsible for growing a person, and yet having no control over it.

So, all’s well that ends well. It was a fun 24 hours that I’d like to not repeat again for a while, BOTH of my babies giving me a heart attack. I’m hoping for an uneventful 16 week appointment, and then I’m sure I’ll be a bitchy fireball of nerves again before the “big” ultrasound.

Fact- My husband is a saint for putting up with me. Fact- He knew what he was getting into before he married me, so I don’t feel too bad.

I’m 12 weeks pregnant, Kendall is 2 (and the bump doesn’t look too bad… relatively speaking)

*** #helpSam UPDATE!! ***

We have officially passed our SUPER AWESOME goal of $7,500 to help the Sartin Family! Thank you, thank you, thank you!! We still have today and all of tomorrow left to get funds in, so let’s just see how far we can take it. I think $8,000 is definitely attainable and who knows, maybe we’ll even make it to $8,500?!

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PregnancyThe Story

Why?

by Jill
written by Jill

Why do all the pregnancy books tell you all 9 months to avoid laying on your back – lay on your side instead (which completely makes sense at this stage in the game because laying on your back feels like someone is driving a Phillips head through your tail bone) and every single ultrasound you go to you are forced to lie FLAT ON YOUR BACK? Extreme discomfort, I tell you. Not only are those half beds cold and hard and awkwardly positioned, but there is no way for me to relish seeing my chubby little guy’s precious face on that screen when I am forced to endure this type of pain while some disinterested ultrasound tech pushes jelly around my belly and me shoving my fists under my lower back in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure. They could at least provide a pillow to cushion down there.

Why is it impossible for me to get up, down, turn around in any position without grunting? I love my Snoogle, I do. It sure helps with the lower back pain, but turning over at night or getting out of bed is already a chore now without having to do a herkie over the c shaped pillow. My poor husband is getting as little sleep as I am these days because I just. can’t. be. quiet. Add to that my extremely heavy breathing and snoring that startles even me awake, and I’m sure it’s only a matter of time that he heads to the couch.

Why do I feel like I’m nesting? I always thought this was like a pregnancy urban legend…the very pregnant woman, waddling around the house, organizing sock drawers and dusting the toilet paper rolls. My husband and I moved the furniture around in our room the other night to finally make way for the baby’s furniture (since him getting a room of his own is now out the window with the recent addition of our niece). I spent half an hour crying over how terrible the room looked. It was hard enough for me to give up the vision of bringing my son home to an adorable nursery, decorated by yours truly, and seeing the dreadful room he will be spending his first months in set me off. So after living with those white walls for nearly four years in an apartment we hope (pray!) to vacate soon, I ran off to Home Depot and bought a $5 gallon of oops paint in a lovely taupe, had my husband slap it on while I was at work, and finished off the room with some fresh accessories. Today I pulled everything out of the closet and threw about half of it out (including many college days clubbing shirts…just can’t see the use for those now) and reorganized. I somehow managed to clean off an entire shelf and one third of the closet for baby stuff. I have never been so motivated to get organized before.

Why do I keep looking at my cankles, expecting them to go back to normal?  I just can’t get used to the complete lack of definition in my ankle bones.  They don’t even shrink after a full night’s sleep.  The worst is the spillage over the tops of my shoes.  I can’t even wear my own socks anymore and have been forced to invade my husband’s stash.  I have also made it very clear to him that he is no longer allowed to wear any size large t-shirt since I am now clearly the bigger of the two of us.

33 weeks 2 days

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PregnancyThe Story

Boy, oh boy! No more worries.

by Jill
written by Jill

Whew! What a week! Sorry for the lack of posts lately…the holidays and all. Not that I don’t have plenty to write about. Let’s see…we’ll dedicate this post to the biggest news I have for you – IT’S A BOY! But there’s so much more to the story than just that.

I’ve touched on this before – that worry is something that consumes so much of you when you’re pregnant – okay, maybe using “you” is an over generalization…maybe it’s just me that worries this much. I will just say that before I got pregnant I always thought I’d be the most laid back pregnant woman. I mean, I’m type A and all and love to plan, but I generally try not to worry about things I have no control over in other areas of my life. So I NEVER thought I’d spend the whole first trimester fearing the sight of spotting every time I had to pee, or putting myself on bedrest “just in case” the first few times I did experience spotting. Yes, I know that that didn’t prevent anything, but at the time it was the only thing that I could control and made me feel like I was helping, being cautious, being a good mother. Just to expand a little more on this first trimester experience – I spotted from week 5 through week 8 nearly every day and then sporadically for a few more weeks after that. It was terrifying and stressful and really opened my eyes to how different pregnancy was making me. I was responsible for another life, and even though that life was still so incredibly new, that didn’t make it any less important than if I was trying to keep a grown child alive, at least in my mind.

I eventually stopped spotting and thought my worries were behind me. I was almost through the first trimester and “in the clear”. Our 12 week appointment was supposed to be a really exciting milestone for us – hearing the heartbeat for the first time. I admit that the nurse did warn me that not everyone can hear it that early and to not freak out if they couldn’t find it. Well….they couldn’t find it….and I sure as hell freaked the fuck out. It seemed like an eternity until she came back in the room with the ultrasound machine and located the heartbeat on the screen. Tears of relief streamed down my face. My husband said he didn’t understand what I was so worried about. I didn’t expect him to.

We finally heard the heartbeat on the doppler at 16 weeks and were thrilled to schedule the “BIG” ultrasound for 18 weeks 3 days. However, I was pretty surprised to find that over the course of the two weeks between appointments I wasn’t nearly as excited about the ultrasound as I thought I would be. This was going to be the big moment…boy or girl! How could I not be excited? The thing is, I didn’t care if it was a boy or girl…I just wanted everything to look good, healthy, in the right place. And so the worry began again…

I usually get apprehensive about appointments about 48 hours in advance. It doesn’t consume me or anything, just passing thoughts and concerns. The hour before the appointment is the worst, and sitting in the waiting room never seems to help. When we got called in to the ultrasound room I was on edge and put off by how short the tech was with me. I thought, “I don’t have the patience to deal with not nice people today.” I laid back on the paper covered half bed, slightly annoyed, but it all melted away when she put the wand on my belly and there it was – a very clear picture of a baby. My baby finally looked like a baby, with legs and arms and a sweet face! No more blob for us!

After thirty minutes of checking out his bones, brain and organs she finally asked if we wanted to know and then zoomed in on what was very clearly a little penis. It’s a boy! She left saying she needed to check that she got all the pictures our doctor needed and that she’d be right back. My husband and I took in the news and in a few minutes she returned with a doctor…my stomach dropped. This could not be good.

It turns out our baby boys bladder is on the cusp of being a little too full and may not be emptying properly. The doctor explained that she wanted to see us back in the third trimester to see if it would correct itself. If it doesn’t, he will need treatment after he’s born. Of course, in my panicked state I thought the worst. Is this a sign of something bigger? Is he deformed? Will he live? I was calmed minutes later when she explained that it’s common among boys and will not hurt him for the time being. That tech even redeemed herself by doing her best to set my mind at ease.

At lunch after the appointment I managed to snap myself out of it. Our baby is healthy. He is surviving and thriving and we are so lucky, and my constant worrying had nothing to do with that. We could have received news much worse than that. So I have decided to try really hard to not let worry get to me the rest of the pregnancy. Yes, I’ll still have my concerns, but instead I’m going to focus on the positive and let go of what I can’t control – like I do with nearly everything else in my life.

Now that I’m saving so much time not worrying I have lots of time to think about having a boy! OMG, a boy! I don’t think I have the slightest idea of what to do with a boy. One thing is for sure though, if he’s anything like my husband and all his brothers, I can kiss every nice thing I own goodbye. I am currently researching the cost of all rubber furniture.

18 weeks 5 days

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PregnancyThe Story

2nd trimester update – the good, the bad and the gassy

by Jill
written by Jill

I’m well into the second trimester now. I have quite a cute baby bump to show for it. Nothing huge yet, but I’m definitely looking more pregnant than fat and can finally fill out those maternity shirts I’ve been hanging onto. The upside to this new stage is I physically feel pretty good. The food aversions are definitely gone, and have been replaced by an incredible urge to eat almost anything every three hours. Perhaps that explains why I have gained as much in the last four weeks (5 lbs) as I did the whole first trimester!

Yeah…I’m kind of alarmed that I’m already up 10 lbs at 16 weeks. I guess pregnant women really can’t eat whatever they want whenever they want ; ) I’m hoping my recent cravings for fruit and vegetables paired with my prenatal water aerobics classes (which are actually 90% senior citizens with one or two pregnant gals in the mix) will help me get everything back in control. Don’t get me wrong, I know gaining weight is part of the process, but I’m not going to just let myself go for the next five months. I know I’m far too lazy to trust that I’ll take it all off after the baby if it’s too large of a number.

I also have a considerable amount of energy back (I only sleep 9 -10 hours a night now and hardly need a nap) and the belching has drastically subsided (only because the gas is now choosing to escape via other avenues, I’m sure). And yes, the books are right when they say the sex drive comes back in the second trimester. It’s not like I’m pouncing on him…more like not running the other direction. However, I ask this question – what good is a surge in the sex drive if I am constantly in a bitchy, unpredictable mood?

Yes, this is the downside of the second trimester for me. I do not know what it is, but it takes absolutely nothing for me to turn from a cheerful, kind version of myself to an irrational, agitated bitch. Seriously…I will just be walking and all of the sudden find myself in a terrible mood. Since my husband is usually the first person I see, he gets the shitty end of the deal and is constantly confused by my state of mind. He even mentioned to me this morning, “You know, those weekly baby emails I’ve been getting have done nothing to prepare me for these mood swings.” So ladies…warn your husbands. I think he finds it quite comical though. He will just bust out laughing at how ridiculous it is that I am so flipping pissed off that the ice cream shop doesn’t have mint chocolate chip. I have to say, I eventually laugh at it too. In doing a little experimentation and research on the subject, I *think* these mood swings happen when I need to eat or need sugar. They always seem to coincide with some crazy craving, and as soon as I get what I want I’m happy again. I think I may need further testing to prove this theory. I’ll be sure to report back.

As far as other updates go I have to say that the most exciting thing to date was when we FINALLY heard the baby’s heartbeat at our 16 week appointment yesterday. I seriously freaked out at 12 weeks when they couldn’t find it with the doppler and was only slightly relieved to see it flashing on the u/s screen. I just wanted to HEAR it. The nurse found it yesterday only 20 seconds after lubing up my belly. It was the most reassuring sound ever. I really need to spend a whole post talking about worry and how much it changes you during pregnancy. I have a feeling that will be a long one though, so I will save it for a rainy day.

And to end this on a funny note I will elaborate more on the gas escaping via other avenues situation – I have never been a loud farter, and I don’t think my husband has ever heard me fart. It’s not like I hold it in and run to the other room to let it out. It just has never been very audible. Well, let me tell you – that’s changing. So now after nearly 7 years of never farting in front of my husband I’m almost scared to! I don’t know why. It’s not like he’ll be disgusted by it. I’m sure he’ll find it hysterical. I just need to….uhmmm…break the seal – just fart and get it over with. So I’m just waiting for the day that I let it rip in front of him. I know it’s got to come soon or it’s going to be a very uncomfortable 5 months ahead of me. I also learned recently that I really should avoid Morning Star sausage crumbles. I had them for dinner the other night and had such bad gas while I was sleeping that the next morning my husband thought one of the dogs had shit in the bedroom! I didn’t even have the balls to fess up.

16 weeks 1 day

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PregnancyThe Story

We saw the baby, and I don’t like chocolate…

by Jill
written by Jill

Two very reassuring signs that all is well with this pregnancy.  The spotting that freaked me out was very insignificant, and by the time I made it to the OB’s office yesterday, I felt guilty for even being there.  I felt like I should have the Niagara Falls of blood gushing down my legs to justify the intensity of terror that I was feeling.  One of the very good things that came out of my visit though was that I LOVE my OB’s office.  The doctor I met with was BEYOND helpful and reassuring, and even went out of his way to convince me that I did the right thing by coming in (although I know deep down I was no different to him than the millions of other paranoid freak first time pregnant women he’s dealt with).

My husband came along, and even though I wanted to strangle him for telling me to just “calm down”, I knew he was just as scared as I was.  Not only did he do a remarkable job maintaining his calm demeanor as another man shoved foreign objects up my vagina in front of him, but he also managed to hold back the majority of his OCD and germaphobe fueled comments and questions.  He admitted to me at lunch after the appointment that he was really concerned that the speculum hadn’t been cleaned properly.  He asked if I could feel if it was dirty, and confessed that he was “this close” to asking the doctor if he had sterilized that since the last patient!  And I assure you this was a visibly reputable establishment.  I didn’t go meet up with some hillbilly doctor in the back of his Chevy El Camino.

The paranoia worked in our favor this time.  We got to see our first glimpse of the teensy, tiny, itty- bitty life growing inside of me.  We couldn’t see a heartbeat yet, but the doctor assured us that everything was looking just right for how far along I am.  And now I’m going to do that thing that all new soon to be mothers do that the rest of the never been pregnant world can’t understand, nor is interested in.  I’m going to show you my ultrasound picture….and you most likely will cock your head to the side, try for half a second to figure out where the hell the baby is, and move on…that’s okay.  I want to show it anyway.

Awwww!!!  Okay, now that that is out of my system ( at least for a few more weeks) I will end this entry by saying that it’s crazy how much you WANT to feel sick when you are pregnant.  Not that I enjoy it.  I personally despise feeling like I need to puke all the time, and that I may pass out at any moment from the insane dizzy spells I’ve been having lately, but it tells me that there indeed is some foreign body growing in me that is so healthy that even at the size of an apple seed it has the power to make me see stars when I stand up too quickly and to make me dry heave at the mere thought of certain smells.

My final sign of reassurance at my appointment came as we were checking out.  The receptionist had some of those Rocher chocolates on her counter for the patients, and I thought I should try to eat one since I was feeling so dizzy.  As soon as I bit into it, I discretely spit it right back out.  NO amount of hunger or dizziness could have made that chocolate taste good to me.  Now that, my friends, is all the evidence in the world that I need to let me know someone else has taken over my body – the fact that I would much rather have a fresh tomato or pickled okra over a whole box of chocolates.

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