April 29, 2010
39 weeks (or, brutal honesty)It's not too late to hit the back button! I'm still a needy, hyper-hormonal mess. Now with 50% more insomnia!
Through some fault of my own, I don't have anyone left I can talk to honestly about said mess. Even though the timing couldn't possibly be worse, I'm not performing well in pretty much every aspect of my personal life at the moment. Relationships (spousal, sibling, etc, etc): varying levels of fail. Parenting of a five-year-old: crimson capital F Fail. I even managed to fail my InDesign ACE exam; though I was cavalier about it at the time in the interest of preserving sanity (yeah, I see you smirking), it was quite a blow considering I studied for THREE SEMESTERS, acing (ha) everything.
I worry about the stress of a new little person to the midst of all this. Of course I do. I remember all too clearly the sleepless chaos of last time, and the havoc it could wreak. Even in the face of all that adoration.
I just have to admit that I might need outside help this time, probably of the pharmaceutical variety. Because, despite my best attempts at wand-waving, everything isn't going to magically resolve in the next week or so, and I know how prone I am to postpartum depression (though I wouldn't admit it to myself, or you, or anyone last time).
04/29/10 01:25 AM | Comments
April 08, 2010
Something Entirely Not Fetus-RelatedShocking! I know.
I love my foaming soap. Love, love, love. And I'm happy they now make refill packs so you needn't toss the dispenser. I haven't been able to find them locally, though. The gel refills, though, yes.
So I tried Rob Cockerham's trick with the gel refill, and so far, it works like a charm. I get Method's yummy-smelling non-toxic soap, foaming, at a tiny fraction of the cost of a foaming refill. I'll have to report back on any "sliming" issues (could be brand-related? He used a generic), since I've only just filled my first dispenser this week.
04/08/10 09:31 AM | Comments
April 07, 2010
"Non" Stress TestsAre a misnomer. There's nothing not stressful about them. Especially when routine.
Three problems with mine today.
First, a non-reactive heart rate. The fetal heart should, theoretically, accelerate a certain number of times within a certain amount of time. There are many of the opinion that the routine use of this test is mostly out of fear-of-malpractice overkill that leads to many false results and lots of unnecessary expenditures on costly extended testing. Let's just say I don't place an undue amount of faith in it.
But I do know that amniotic fluid levels need to remain adequate, and, even though they can change hourly, when you see an office ultrasound with what appears a shockingly decreased amount, that's enough to have you agreeing to be sent to the hospital for an extensive biophysical profile. Which is exactly what I did this evening. Lots of arterial pressure from being flat on my back, lots of trying not to pee with that mandated full bladder while being pressed upon, lots of trying not to pass out (almost happened four times). But lots of reassurance, too -- fluid levels were found well within the normal range (dead center, nearly). "Breathing" was very good. Heart was good. Size for age was good. Good!
But then we get to that pesky third NST issue, preterm contractions. More constant than last week. So it's to be modified bedrest, which is essentially house arrest with no housework privileges. I'm going to be honest -- realistically, this is only attainable to a certain point. I won't be walking (yet), or doing anything strenuous, or standing more than I absolutely must. But I have a five-year-old boy who is on spring break and is taking us both down to crazytown. And he needs to get to t-ball practice. I have GD and rising blood pressure and can't just eat whatever happens to be in the back of the pantry or anything that can be delivered; I need a constant influx of fresh food and minimally-processed stuff (and, controlling only with diet, I have to be fairly picky about brands and things -- some work for my glucose, while others just don't, and, after months of working out a boring but effective system, I'm the only one who is keenly aware of exactly where these things can be found, and what substitutes can or can't safely be made). And then there's the fact that even one day of blank, aimless, drool-inducing inactivity when I have THIS MUCH NESTING ENERGY drives my mood down to doubleplusungood places. If I were dilated I could see being very strict, but I've been contracting for weeks every time I move, and quite obviously that, and the contractions I usually can't feel at all when at complete rest, haven't been working to any cumulative effect on my cervix. They just are.
04/07/10 10:58 PM | Comments
April 05, 2010
Core DumpSorry I haven't updated in so long. Honestly, it's usually just easier to decompress in the 140-characters-or-less format, and have the satisfaction of almost instantaneous feedback.
So, where to start. Things haven't been easy, to say the least. All of my mental and physical comforts have been stripped away one by one -- sweet, salt, bread/etc. (serotonin), only seeing the doctor once a month (read: lack of constant low-level anxiety), having spending money, exercise, sex... Most days it's difficult to feel as though I haven't been stripped down to a vessel. A physically useless, ridiculously costly vessel, since the area is so lacking in perinatal services, and our out-of-network service percentages aren't nearly as transparent as I thought.
As if the GD and consistent borderline high blood pressure weren't a powerful enough team to really throw a wrench in my peaceful pregnancy, my OB picked up rhythmic contractions (which weren't strong enough for me to feel) at my last weekly non-stress test, and I was shuttled off to the hospital right quick for an I.V. of fluid to stop them. Because I was only at 34w6d. And when it did, a whole new list of restrictions was issued. Luckily, I was not dilated in the least.
Unexpected hospital visits, of course, suck. Aside from the cost, my wrist hole from last week still hurts, and hospital diabetic meals would certainly injure most of the real diabetics I've talked to; I was lucky to get away with just one meal which I could easily avoid finishing rather than spike my blood with sugar. I have my weekly appointments on Wednesdays, and if I'm sent to the hospital again this week I'm not sure how I'll contain the batshit-crazy waterworks.
Both my blood pressure and blood glucose are harder to control with the inactivity. So I've had to become even more stingy and choosy with the carbs (not just bread, rice, and potatoes, but milk, fruits, and veggies), and eat even more high-fat balancing foods, to compensate. But my OB should be thrilled that I'm now gaining weight, a lack which she previously criticized roundly (even though I started out overweight, and unnecessary weight gain also exacerbates insulin resistance and elevated BP).
Right now I'm at 35w4d. I'm only going to maintain activity restrictions until 37. Not that I'll go off and run a marathon, obviously, but if very moderate walking brings about labor after that point (which I don't truly believe it will), then so be it.
One standard response to all this seems to be "You're almost there!" And while I'm grateful for the thought... Well. I'm no dead poet by any means, so it's difficult to gracefully impart just. how. incredibly. LONG and relentless the past few months have been. No violins necessary. But perhaps the understanding that "just 30 days" means 120+ more lancets to the ever-hardening fingertips, 180 more meals and snacks to be swallowed long past the point at which I can no longer stand the sight of another nut, egg, or slice of cheese, ??? more bills for labwork and office visits and hospitals. This on top of the quite normal pains and discomforts and mental assaults of pregnancy, and the expected dry indoor heat of winter making the usual (but of course untreatable in the usual ways) attack of my sinuses. It's been impossible not to succumb to some depression. Which leads me back around to not writing.
Needless to say, for far more reasons than the biggest one, I'll be happier once this little person is outside, even if more tired. I truly wish I didn't feel that way about my last pregnancy.
04/05/10 05:27 PM | Comments