Brian looked over at me and said sweetly, "No, pumpkin, you're not big. You're just...fluffy."
Ha, ha. And here I thought he didn't read the blog.
So last night, Brian and I were making dinner together in the kitchen. I was complaining about my third favorite subject - my size. (My first two favorite subjects are "When is this child coming?" and "Ow, my back hurts.") I was whining that my belly is becoming insanely large - so large, in fact that if I am cooking something on the stove, I actually cannot stand in front of it since the heat warms my belly uncomfortably. I am THAT big.
Brian looked over at me and said sweetly, "No, pumpkin, you're not big. You're just...fluffy." Ha, ha. And here I thought he didn't read the blog.
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I've gotten a lot of questions in recent days as to just how this child is going to come into the world. Quite frankly, I have no idea.
My whole birth plan up to this point has been, "I would like my child to live, and if possible, I'd like to survive childbirth." Several nurses have complimented me on my simplicity. I pride myself on low expectations. Beyond that, I have no idea what else to expect. But that was earlier in the pregnancy, when talking about labor was cute and esoteric and still too far in the future to seriously worry about. Now that I'm knocking on L&D's door, I'm starting worry that my casualness has not allowed for proper planning. But again, I still don't know what to expect. Up until last week, we were just concerned about keeping this kid in utero for as long as possible. Prior to week 30, my perinatologist (Dick Cheney) had been telling me I'm a automatic c-section due to the fibroid sitting squarely on my cervix. My regular doctor (George Bush) seemed a little less concerned about it (at one point, he didn't even know where the fibroid was located...he thought it was on top of my uterus. That inspired all kinds of confidence). George's take was more, "Well, we'll let you labor naturally, but if you don't ever get beyond 5-6cm, we'll call it." Yes, he actually said "call it," as though the birth of my child was equivalent to that of a rain delay at a baseball game. I detest cliched analogies to begin with, and sports analogies are the worst. After that harrowing appointment, I asked Dick Cheney if he would be present at the birth. He smiled kindly and said, "No. We're more like consultants, and only assist for the high HIGH risk deliveries." That did make me feel better, knowing I had not yet hit that next stratosphere of pregnancy problems. But then picturing George all alone in the delivery room, scalpel in hand, thinking my fibroid is next to my lungs...well, my relief was short-lived. And then, at week 30, to everyone's surprise, the fibroid had moved. As my uterus grew, the fibroid went with it. It is now posterior (back), and causing all kinds of lovely back pain too graphic to describe in this blog or polite company. But the fact of the matter is that it is no longer blocking the exit, allowing for the possibility a natural birth. I have to say, as happy as I am that the grapefruit-sized tumor is no longer smashing my baby's head, it's a weird moment to think that you might actually have to labor naturally. My first thought was, "I wish I had paid better attention during our birth classes." Oh, well. At my last appointment, I even suggested to George that maybe he, I, and Dick go out to dinner to discuss my labor. He smiled politely and then promptly changed the subject. The best I can gleam from both parties is that they want me to 1.) go into labor naturally (i.e water breaks and/or contractions start in earnest) and 2.) we'll figure out the natural v. c-section decision in the moment. Now that we are coming up to (eek) 35 weeks, there is no clear plan. The current issue is the size of the baby; he might not actually fit through my pelvis. Babies that are too big run the risk of shoulder dislocia (their little shoulders get stuck) and c-sections are preferable. Obviously, a lot of this depends on WHEN I go into labor; tomorrow or the next week = smaller-sized baby. The longer he's in utero, the larger he will become, making a natural birth less likely. And so, we're just taking it one day at a time. We're giving these last few weeks of pregnancy 110%. Brian and I are planning to work, and are prepared to work the plan. We're trying to remain as big picture as possible. Although the doctors keep moving the goal posts, we have our eyes on the prize and are prepared to take it to the next level...because folks, it's almost game time. ;-) In case you can't read the caption, it says...
Your mama loves u...even if the other kids calls you fat, she knows uz jes fluffy. Well, today was the big appointment...and all went great!
By all accounts, Baby B is looking amazing on ultrasound. He is practicing his breathing, his little heart is beating away, and all of his parts are in the right place and appear to be the right size. I don't think there is a parent out there that ever gets tired of hearing how "great," "awesome," and "beautiful" their child is. The ultrasound technician as well as the doctor (who usually is a bit more stoic) had nothing but praise for our little guy, which was seriously music to Brian's and my ears. And the big news...Baby B seems to have skipped over the featherweight division and is cruising to be a heavy weight by birth. He weighed in today at a whopping SEVEN POUNDS, NINE OUNCES. Yes, I have almost 8 lbs of baby in my uterus at 34w5d. This child is measuring in the 98% on all growth charts. I would be concerned about his gi-normous size, but every test has come back showing no sign of any kind of problem. He's just a really, really, really big baby. The doctor came in and asked both of us which parent we blame; I, of course, pointed to Brian and his 10 lb birth weight, and Brian was just as quick to point to me and highlight my Jr. Whooper and brownie addiction. Whatever is going on, this kid clearly has a healthy blood supply and a highly-functional placenta; he is not going hungry, that's for sure. I've always strived to be a good hostess, and I think this is the ultimate compliment. :-) Other news included that as of next Saturday, August 8th, I will be off ALL of my medications (!!) AND I will be off of bedrest. The doctor was quick to caution me not to hit the gym (um, no worries, dude), and to take things slowly, but I can already taste the freedom. He also believes there is very little chance I will reach my due date and instead will go into labor in the next three weeks. For those of you who read the post about Kelly's scheduled c-section, this puts us squarely around the time frame. Again. :-) But, it's not in our hands at this point, it's in nature's hands. So, whatever happens, I'm sure our little guys will enjoy sharing a birthday, or at the very least, the same birth month. But unfortunately, not for me.
No, the good news comes for my sister Kelly. She had her 34 week appointment yesterday and they booked her c-section! Nothing has got to be more surreal than scheduling the birth of your child. She called all breathless yesterday afternoon with the details, and it sounds as though little Ben will be joining us on August 18th, 2009 at approximately 9:30am. I love that Kelly insisted on the first surgery of the day. In her words, she wanted her doctor "at his freshest." Nice. Not only do we have an estimated time of arrival, but Ben is also already engaged in the pelvis and the cervix is shortening. This kid is locked and loaded, ready to go! So in just under three weeks, Kelly will officially be a mom and I will be a proud aunt! So exciting. I remain a question mark. Baby B seems to very content hanging out in the Four Seasons of wombs. My doctor (regular doc today, specialist tomorrow) commented that there is an ample amount of room in there for him to stretch out and swim. Great. I mean, why would he want to leave? Room service, complete maid service, and luxurious accommodations. Funny how just four weeks ago (hell, three DAYS ago) I was frantic to keep him as long as possible, and now I'm clawing for an end date. Obviously, we want to keep him in there as long as possible, but I wouldn't mind just knowing when he will arrive... Kelly, of course, is handling the good news as only Kelly can. According to her, when the doctor gave her the date, one of her comments was, "So this is really happening, huh? There's no going back?" That totally cracked me up. I will be sad to lose my partner in pregnancy, since we've been doing this together since gestational week 6. I'm also concerned since my uterus clearly heard our conversation, and it will decide to kick into labor right around August 17th or something. I don't trust my uterus to not act up at exactly the wrong time. My poor parents don't know where to fly and when, although the picture is starting to form more clearly. There is talk of a trip to Minnesota first, and then possibly flying from there to Vegas and then back. So if you see a nice couple wandering around Midway or O'Hare airport in mid-August, looking weary and anxious, please be nice to them. It just might be my folks. I think all we know for sure right now is that the next 30+ days or so will be a very exciting time for our family! Just when you think you are safe to go back to the perinatologist's office... At this point, I'm sure the good people at our insurance are devising ways to drop me from the plan. I am just simply not cost-effective anymore. Had yet another appointment this morning, and those boring thoughts are definitely working. The appointment was so boring, in fact, that I fell asleep in the recliner during the monitoring part of the appt. Well, those boring thoughts I requested on Thursday worked: everything went smashingly well at today's appointment. Thank you!! Here at the Bed Rest Book Club, we welcome new members with mixed feelings. (we meaning myself and Emma. Two members strong). Obviously, we hate to see other pregnant women placed on bed rest but when it's medically necessary, well, you don't have much of a choice. There are some obvious perks to bed rest (sleeping in, afternoon naps, plenty of time to bond with your pets), but the drawbacks can make one start to feel a little crazy in head (the sheer inability to do anything on your own, go anywhere on your own, or retain any level of independence). As I tell most people who ask how things are going, "I have my good days, and then I have my bad days." You never really know how the day will play out. |
About Me
Think of this as the epilogue to Bridget Jones' story. Well, mostly. Bridget marries the handsome lawyer, starts a blog while on bedrest, and decides marathon running sounds like fun. Bridget goes through a divorce but keeps running. Hilarity ensues. Archives
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