Best laid plans coming to naught – the story of every IF’s reproductive life…

Anyway, yes, we have settled on a name, and barring something completely unexpected, Thor’s name will actually be Henry Jett Butler.

We did have a few moments of hilarity whilst trying to include every grandparent’s lineage.  His paternal grandfather has been pushing hard to call him “three sticks”  As in Samuel Butler III.  Which I refused on the grounds of there are already too many Sams at family gatherings, (grandfather, the Boy, cousin) and I refuse to live in a house where every other person living there besides me has the same name.  His paternal grandmother would love to see her own father, James Alexander, honored.  Which is great, but I had a boyfriend named James, and Alexander is the name of middle SD’s all-but-fiance.  So that one’s out.  Henry is from my mom’s family, and is pretty much set as this child’s first name at this point. McRae has become the middle name of choice on my dad’s side of the family.  And the Boy’s closest friend gave his children 4 names instead of the more-traditional 3, and has been encouraging us to think outside of the box when it comes down to actually naming Thor.

So we had a moment (ok, more than a single moment, but no more than two or three) when we were possibly seriously considering “Henry James McRae Samuel Butler” (just to assure that the kid actively hated us from the time he was old enough to pick up any English Lit.  coursework book.)

Reason and compassion won out.  Henry Jett Butler it is.  And I’ve been assured by the youngest SD that kids these days don’t even KNOW there’s a movie out there called Gone With the Wind in which the male lead is named Rhett Butler.  Which rhymes with Jett Butler.  Which would have been an open book for much teasing when I was a kid.  But of course, I was a kid back in the stone age, when the book was better known than the movie.  And since I’m not entirely sure she knew there was a book, I decided that she was probably absolutely right.

So, indirectly, anyway, one of the SD’s named the baby.  More or less.

**

A useless doctor’s appointment this morning.  “Still pregnant, I see?  Call me when you go into labor.”

For this I waited an hour and a half?

In all fairness, they also checked for protein in my urine – none.  Checked my BP – 110/60.  Checked my weight – no change.  The nurse commiserated on my painfully swollen feet.  And they gave me new instructions for coming into the hospital.  If I get there in time to have one bag o’ antibiotics, Henry won’t have to go to NICU.  If I get there in time to have 2 bags, then Henry won’t even have to have a shot himself.  So that’s obviously the goal.  So instead of laboring at home, I’ll basically be going in as soon as my doc thinks – from a phone call, most likely – that labor is imminent.

And it’d be nice if that were soon, because really?  Late summer in NY?  Hugely pregnant?

Not.  Much.  Fun.

**

And yeah, I’m obviously cranky these days.  Can’t sleep – seriously, it was my third sleepless night in a row, and it’s getting old, waking up every 20-40 minutes.  My hands are numb, my feet hurt, and I’m sore everywhere else.  Belly hurts from being internally kicked, ligaments are sore from having gigantic belly sticking way the hell out.  Cramps and fake contractions are making my innards sore – though not as sore as they will be, I know!  And I’m hungry, but nothing sounds good.  And bored with waiting.  And whiny.

Have you noticed?

Bu I’m also healthily pregnant.  And getting ready to deliver a healthy baby in a week or two (please g-d, not more than 2!)  And I should go take a nap to try to wrench my mood out of the garbage, because really?  I got nothing to complain about.

Remind me of that, please, when I threaten to start complaining again in another 15 minutes.  Seriously going to go take a nap now.  A nap followed by a dose of coffee.  Followed, perhaps, by another nap.

He said everything’s looking great, BP is still lowish, my weight gain is pathetic, but Thor’s is great, so he doesn’t care.  He did an internal – ouch! – and said my cervix is still closed, but that labor can happen fast so that’s not really any sort of prediction.  He said at this point they will not attempt to stop labor if I should go into labor naturally (though naturally, they’d prefer him to bake a while longer).  He reminded me what my cues are for ‘call the doctor now’.  We should get the Strep B results back next week, and I’m to go off Lovenox as of now.

Which is nice.

I asked again about going on Heparin at this point as so many women do, and he told me that he really didn’t like that idea.  Remember I have a veiny, prone-to-hemorrhaging uterine wall?  The women who still die even in top hospitals during childbirth?  A lot of them have veiny uteruses (uteri?) like me.  I think he’s feeling that the risk of a blood clot at this point is minimal – especially since we do lots of sonograms that check umbilical blood flow & it’s always been superb – whereas the risk of medication-assisted uncontrolled bleeding if something bad happens during labor is not-so-minimal.  I never did have the numbers that showed a clotting factor, and if I’d remained under my RE’s care, would likely have been taken off the Lovenox at about 12 weeks.  My OB didn’t want to mess with what was working, but he’s of the opinion that if it was ever needed, it’s certainly not needed now.

This isn’t to say I intend to start subsisting on ice cream or other blood-clotters (in fact, I’ll probably be cooking pretty heavily with garlic for the next few weeks), but I trust my doctor’s reasoning, and I’m happy to follow his orders. He’s been very conservative, very willing to do whatever it takes to keep this pregnancy healthy, and he knows the needles do not bother me.  So I don’t worry that he’s putting me or the baby at risk by choosing to stop the blood thinner now, rather than after delivery, out of some misguided attempt to spare me anything.  He just thinks it’s healthier for Thor and for me to stop it now and not use any blood thinning agents prior to delivery.

That said, I’ve got 20 or so doses of Lovenox left over and I hate the thought of tossing such an expensive medication in the garbage.  If you’re already on 40mg Lovenox (and can prove it to me via a previous-to-today blog post about it!) and your insurance doesn’t cover the meds., I’d be happy to send my leftovers on to someone – you can email me off-blog (ssjett (at) hotmail (dot) com) or leave a note in the comments.  I’ll send it to the first person who responds. Leftover Lovenox has found a home – nevermind!

I bought about half of my “embarrassing drug store list of items” and shall make another run for the remainder when I’m feeling perkier.  I seem to be good for about one big errand a day before my feet hurt and my back aches and I’m sleepy enough to cry.

But my dog came up and slept with us last night after we turned off the A/C.  Which was wonderful, even if I did have phantom itchiness because of it.  I think she’s clear, but my brain insists “Bugs!” which isn’t much fun.  She’s getting back to her old self, went for a walk with us this morning, and came up to greet me when I got home.  I do love my little family so much. And I can’t wait to add to it.

Question for you all – now that I’m no longer worked & therefore doing the housefrau thing for the first time in my life (and really looking forward to it, actually) I’m finding myself in charge of making dinner every night.  The Boy would do it – has actually volunteered to continue doing it indefinitely – but since he hates it and I like it, I’d like to get into the swing of it earlier rather than later.  My question is – I’ve got plenty of yummy menu items for when it’s cold out.  But what, besides gazpacho and salad, do people eat in the summertime?  Honestly, it’s hard thinking of what to cook when nothing sounds good, but surely there are some foods out there that I just haven’t thought about yet. We’re very much a healthy food – protein/starch/vegetables kind of family, and the Boy needs lots of food/calories to maintain his scrawny frame.  Meat is good (for him) Veggies are good (for me).  Nellie would prefer recipes that feature lots and lots of chicken skin, which usually ends up on her plate by the end of the meal.

And I’m SO out of ideas.  I miss Gourmet magazine, which always gave me great ideas.  I think I need to subscribe to Cooking Light, or even Bon Appetit again, to get me through these spells where I am completely uninspired by food.

But in the meantime, would you do me a favor?  Leave a comment with your favorite summertime/warm weather dinner menu (& recipes, if you’re feeling inspired to share with all of us!) The Boy (and eventually Thor) will be delighted to be saved from 4 mos. out of the year when all I feed them is cold soup and salad.

And I think I’m going to have to start planning menus in advance so that 4 o’clock doesn’t roll around again with me having no idea what to put in front of the Boy.

Any ideas?

He chatted and made jokes and went over different indications of labor that would mean it’s time to call him.  He reiterated several times that although pregnant women do sometimes call him for stupid things , he’d much rather that, than have them NOT call when they should have – which he said happened a lot more often, especially with IVF patients.

He mentioned that if I show up at Beth Israel more than 3 times for “false labor” they’d probably try to induce me, so to call him before heading to the hospital on my own if I want to avoid that.

He also mentioned that yeah, if this baby’s head proportions continue on at this rate, it’ll make a c-section much more likely.  Especially given my age.  And small size.

He also mentioned that he was pretty sure Thor wasn’t going to beat his current record of a 12# vaginal delivery.  (Please, god, no!)  This made me happy.

He also SHOWED me my GTT results, and I realized that although his phone message said (and I know because I listened to it 3 times) that my 2 hour results were 198 – the only abnormal results out of the 4 – they were actually 98.  Way normal.  Which makes his jokes about not being sure they even gave me the Glucose drink more understandable.  I confess I got a bit scared again once I realized I was having a big baby, that maybe that one abnormal number out of four was enough of a warning that I should be following more of a GD diet regardless of numbers.  But now?  Now I say “Bring on the popsicles!”

Still haven’t gained weight, but doc’s not worried since I started out with plenty of IVF chub & the baby’s obviously not suffering any form of malnourishment.  I officially (officially, because before today, he didn’t know!) weigh more than my husband – who’s got almost a foot of height on me.  Oi.

Italy trip once again got the seal of approval.

My BP continues low/normal (110/70) and my next appointment is right before we leave for Tuscany.  I’ll be on Lovenox until August 18, at which point he’s just taking me off the blood thinners entirely, not moving me to Heparin as some docs do.  Still no stretch marks on my belly, though I’ve got a linea nigra all the way up to my ribcage, and I’m a little out-of-sorts that it’s crooked.  But then again, so is my newly-outie belly button.  And my belly in general seems to be bigger on the left than the right side.

Heartburn/acid reflux is either really really bad or non-existent on a day-to-day basis.  Chocolate’s the only thing I’ve found that absolutely triggers it, though I have my suspicions about salsa/raw onions.  Which sucks, but there it is.  When The Reflux isn’t bad, so I can sleep on my side, the SI back pain is manageable the next day.  I think  those two things were definitely related – sleeping sitting up in bed, sort of on my tailbone probably exacerbated this whole back-pain-trauma is what I’m thinking.  Now my back’s a bit sore, but after a hot shower to loosen everything up in the morning, I rarely have to limp at all during the day.

Hands and feet are swollen – no more wedding ring til after September, most likely.  And thank goodness it’s flip flop weather.  I’m definitely dealing with a bit of carpal tunnel in my hands, tingling & numbness, but so far it’s manageable.

Constipation?   Let’s just say that I am very happy figs are finally in season.  And that prunes are ALWAYS in season.  Pomegranate juice is my friend.  Feeling bloated and yechy has been, hands down, the worst symptom all along and will likely continue til the end.

Skin is clear, hair & fingernails are growing like mad, moods remain pretty darned consistent and cheerful.  I am sleepy.  Oh god, am I sleepy.  I could sleep for days, weeks, months.

And I go back to see him in 2 weeks.  When I get back from Italy, mid-August, it’ll be every week.

Dang.  This is really happening.

(woohoo!)

For this I waited for over an hour?

Not really complaining.  I get my hospital U/S next week, and that’ll be a more comprehensive exam than this one, but it still felt a bit odd.

Reading The Big Book of Birth and rather enjoying it.  Far and away the best book I’ve found on the subject of actually giving birth, and a very non-attacking attitude about different pain controlling methods that women choose for various reasons.   I’m studying the Hypnobabies coursework, and hoping for a non-epidural, non-induced, non-C-section birth, but I’m also trying not to get too attached to any of those scenarios.  I’m also waffling back & forth on the idea of a doula – I don’t like being told what to do, but I’m also quite sure that not relying on the Boy for all my logistical support during labor might be a good thing.

And I’ve heard it both ways – people who hired doulas and were sorely disappointed in their services, and people who cannot imagine going through natural childbirth without them.

We’re taking the hospital tour in about 3 weeks, and I’m looking forward to seeing how things are done at this hospital.  It’s supposedly known as a natural-birth-friendly hospital, but their website kinda sucks, and I want a very clear picture of what to expect from the nurses, other staff, and the rooms themselves.

Yesterday, I got to hold my friend’s 7-week-old baby – probably the youngest baby I’ve ever spent any time with.

I want one.

I dreamed of babies last night.  Cooing, giggling babies.

This is really happening, folks.  For the first time, it’s really starting to feel like this is going to end up with a baby in arms instead of in dreams.

3/4 of the way through this part.  Only 10 weeks – or less – to go.

Wow.

After leaving a sniveling message begging for a callback -that I thought would surely get results, because I sounded pretty pathetic according to my co-workers – I still had to track him down after 3 o’clock.  I didn’t even want to talk to him, just to get a recommendation from his nurse for a PT person in NYC who wasn’t afraid of pregnant women.  But after hearing my story of woe the nurse sent me on to him, worried that I couldn’t tell a skeletal problem from a preterm-labor contraction.

*sigh*

I realize he’s a high risk OB and so has to think of these things, but really – I’m pregnant, not stupid, and if I were in any doubt as to what was going on here, I’d be in his office demanding emergency care, not calling for a PT or chiropractor recommendation – you know?

Once he established that the shooting, grinding pain when I walk wasn’t accompanied by, say, contractions or gushes of bloody, watery fluid, he suggested I not wear high-heeled shoes.

Um, really now.  Do I seem like a high-heeled shoes person even when not pregnant and suffering from self-described agonizing back pain?  You all have (mostly) never even seen me, but I’d bet you understand just from this blog that I’m not the high-heeled shoes type.

I think I snorted derisively.

So then he suggested I might take a warm shower.  Or perhaps use a heating pad dialed to low.  Was I aware that sleeping with a pillow between my knees might make me more comfortable?

*sigh*

I reiterated that I wasn’t trying to be a whiner, and that I really believed that this was a sacroiliac issue and that the pain level was inching up into the land of “I can’t walk at all without tears running down my face” and that a PT person might be my best bet, since the pain was really getting unbearable, but that when I was able to stop and do some exercises throughout the day, it improves immediately afterwards (although it doesn’t necessarily stay improved after I get up and start walking again).  But still, it would indicate that this is a problem that might be correctable through exercise and maneuvering of recalcitrant body parts by someone trained in the art.  His response?

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t walk anymore.”

Um, I kind of have to.  Real life, you know.  Besides, I’m thinking that going on bedrest for back pain is sort of stupid.  Get really weak in preparation for childbirth & the parenting of a newborn!  Yay!

“Well, if the pain is really unbearable, we could always put you on narcotics.”

Nonono.  You’re not listening.  Pelvic bones out of alignment!  Can feel the edges grating on each other when I walk!  Not a pain I want to cover up, I just want to get the surrounding muscles strong enough to hold together everything that’s going wonky due to a relaxin overdose.  Which sounds like a good idea for a number of reasons – yes? (not least of which is my determination that if Tylenol is too much to expose Thor’s developing body/brain to, there aint no way narcotic painkillers are getting anywhere near us unless I’m delirious from pain & unable to refuse.)

“Perhaps acupuncture would work.  A lot of my patients have really good results.”

Ok, what am I not communicating here?  Or what am I not understanding?  Is it me, or does it seem to others that there are actually 2 kinds of pain.  There’s the warning kind of pain that signals damage being done, so you try to react to the problem – like this here back pain.  Something’s out of whack and needs to be put back into whack and then the pain will ease or even cease.  And then there’s the kind of pain that is just pain.  Menstrual cramps.  Charley horse.  Hell, even though I’m a ‘wannabe natural birther’, I’d even put labor pains into this camp.  Nothing’s wrong, it’s just going to hurt for a while.  No damage done in the end.  But do you use acupuncture to treat a broken arm?  No!  nonononononono!  Look, doc, can you give me a recommendation or not?  Because if not, I’ll just keep calling PTs until I find one who isn’t horrified by the thought of touching a pregnant lady.

The short answer to this long anecdote is that, no, he has no recommendation to give, but that if I find a good PT I should let him know.  (Because apparently I’m his first patient to require assistance with managing sacroiliac pain in 30+ years of practice. *rolls eyes*)

And so I’m going to take it beyond easy this weekend.  On Tuesday, if it’s worse, then it’s time to call PT people who specialize in pregnancy issues like this.  If it’s better, then maybe it’s time to take a week of sick leave to enforce some

Oi.

Ow.

Argh.

We got some scary Skeletor photos, but we also got one that melts my heart every time I look at it, so I offer it to you for your heart-melting needs, as well:

That’s a foot, people.  A real live honest to goodness baby-foot.

Holy shit!  We’re getting a baby with FEET!  WOOOHOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

(HURRAH!)

Everything’s measuring on target, still due in mid-September, and all is well. They’re happy with my weight gain (about 7 pounds so far, though some of that was apparently water weight. He laughed during the ultrasound – “good lord, woman, didn’t you empty your bladder before you came in here? Bet you never make your husband stop on road trips.”)

Next appointment is at 20 weeks, when I’ll also go in to the imaging center at the hospital for my 20-week anatomy scan. I imagine I’ll be keeping the doppler at least that long, because I still haven’t felt movement. Damn it, kid, Mama wants to feel you dance!

And that’s about the state of things. My hands are swollen and I’m hoping it’s from the sudden onset of summer, and not because I’m going to be a bag o’ water for the next 5 months. I still gag every time I brush my teeth, and I would be perfectly happy eating nothing but boiled veggies and bread for dinner. I can eat pretty much anything at noon, but at nighttime? Food? Meh.

Heartburn sucks. I’m sleeping what seems like an inordinate amount, and sleeping on my side? It does suck a lot. Makes my hips hurt. Wakes up the dog. Who shifts around trying to get comfy again, which keeps me awake. And then I roll over, trying to get comfortable on my other side. Which doesn’t usually work.

Life is good. I won’t go so far as to say I’m enjoying this pregnancy, but I’m not waking up every day convinced it’s over. Getting through it one day at a time. All the way to September…

And I have an appointment for this morning with an endocrinologist.  Yesterday’s OB appointment was delayed for about an hour while the doctor ran – literally – to catch an emergency delivery.  The woman showed up to L&D fully dilated.  We should all have labors that only last an hour.  Anyway, all of us – patients & stafff were doing everything but playing word games to pass the time, and I told the nurse I was having a hard time narrowing down which endocrinologist to call, blah blah blah.  So she got on her computer, I got on my iPod, and we narrowed it down to docs she knew who would take my insurance.

And she apparently gave me their personal office numbers, because when I called the first guy, he answered, “Hello?”  Me:  ”Oh, sorry, I was looking for Dr. B.”  ”That’s me.  What’s up?”  I gave him my sob story, about how my OB wants me to see someone stat because of the CVS next week, and he told me he no longer saw patients, but wanted to hear my numbers anyway.  Because my T3 & T4 numbers are elevated on top of my depressed TSH numbers, he agreed that I needed to be seen right away and that he’d make sure someone in his practice saw me immediately.  So he gave me a few numbers, and said he’d go over to the first one’s office to encourage his receptionist to make room for me in tomorrow’s schedule.

Wow.  It makes a difference to be able to wave names around – not to mention having the guy’s private number.

So I got in for an appointment at 11:30 this morning; I rearranged my work schedule so that I’ll work late tonight, and therefore not miss quite so many hours of work, and – hopefully – we can get this under control so that I can go back to worrying about productive things like the nasty-ass taste of the liquid B12 I’m taking.  Blech.

Since this most definitely is an immune thingy, and since I lost my last pregnancy during the week I came off of immune suppressants, it does make me wonder if this might have been behind that loss, since we never got a clear abnormal-genetic reason for it.  I don’t know how I feel about that.  Relieved to possibly have a reason?  Pissed off if my doctor never ordered thryoid-function tests as a routine part of my bloodwork?  I know he tested it pre-pregnancy, but since this is something that often only presents during pregnancy, what if it was never done after that BFP?  What if the prednisone pill I’m still popping is all that’s standing between me and another miscarriage?

Nah, never fear that I’ll run out of things to worry about.  More later, after the appointment.

Then I had a heart attack.

Then he did an internal ultrasound.

And Sprog’s busy moving around in there, heart beating away, looking more like a big-headed alien baby and less like a fish every day.

Yes, I’m still pregnant.

Whew.  (36.5 hours of relief left before I go into panic mode again!)

I have, however, low thyroid hormone levels (which somehow means that my thryoid is overactive?  He explained it, but I didn’t quite get it, being too excited by the whole ‘live baby’ thing.)  And I’m deficient in B12 & folate.

Yes.  Folic acid.  Despite that giant honkin’ horse pill I’ve been taking like a chump every night for the last two years.

So, the folate news freaked me right the fuck out, but he said as long as I’ve been taking my prenatal, it’ll be fine.  He told me to buy an under-the-tongue B12 supplement, in case my stomach is keeping me from absorbing B12, so I went ahead and bought the stuff with additional folate, too.  Because, really, I’ve been through all this only to have problems because of a folic acid deficiency?

Sheesh.

But all is well, and even better?  Next week’s appointment is on a day that I’m at the Realm of Pain.

Take that, evil Rumanian Princess of Despair!

SuperStarOB is great.  I really like him and his assistant and his receptionist.  I think we’re going to do just fine together.  He’s funny and compassionate and kind and while I was waiting for him, a previous patient came in and it was kisses and hugs all around.  His past patients really like him, which is a great recommendation in & of itself.  He used to work with my RE, which is how they know each other, and he actually reminds me of him a great deal.  He spent about an hour talking to me – while other folks were waiting (sorry, other folks!) because he wanted to be sure he understood everything we would be dealing with.

He’s not worried about the spotting.  Since it’s mucosy, and not just blood, he seems to think that’s a good thing (?)  He told me not to worry about exercising, but not to do more than walk.
“Walk as much as you want, but no hanggliding.  No parachuting.  No deepsea diving.”  Um, ok.   Told me not to worry about being a few pounds overweight, “You’re lighter than an awful lot of my patients, and that is the least of our worries at this point.”  Ok.  I can live with that.

Sonogram was fine – hearts beating away at 190bpm, one measuring 9w5d & one measuring 9w1d.  He told me to stay on the meds that my doc has me on, and that he might keep me on Lovenox throughout the pregnancy just because it can’t hurt and might help.  He went out of his way to tell me to relax.  ”You want a glass of wine on a special night?  Drink the wine!  You want a cup of coffee to get rid of a headache?  Drink the coffee.  As you know, nothing you’re doing will or won’t save a pregnancy that’s going to fail.”  I found his attitude rather refreshing, though I can’t imagine downing a glass of wine.

Asked him about my due date (Yom Kippur) since he’s a solo practitioner – would this be a problem?  ”Nah, they call me the Shabbos doctor at Beth Israel.  If you’re there, I’ll be there.”  I asked him about renting a doppler, and he said he hates them, that they’re tricky to use, and cause unnecessary worry.  I tried to explain to him that I am pretty convinced on a daily basis that the pregnancy has failed, and so he said, “I was going to have you come back in 2 weeks – would you rather come back next week?  I’m not trying to make extra money off you, but we could do an ultrasound every week til you’re feeling movement, if you like.”

Um, yes please!

I like this man.  I like him very very much indeed.  And, as I had hoped, he has an ultrasound machine and he likes to use it.  I think we’re going to get along just fine.