After I had "rested" for half an hour, another nurse by the name of Judy came to see how I was doing and to chat. I instantly felt connected with her because of her name. My grandmother's name is Judy and she is a no-nonsense lady like this nurse, but this nurse was compassionate and understanding unlike the other nurse who wouldn't listen to me. We had a heart-to-heart discussion about why I didn't want to push. I explained that I wasn't ready because I wasn't feeling the same pressure I felt before, that I was scared about how Frederick would be when he came out, that I really didn't want to have Greg look at my bare bottom and vulva in such a manner--I felt so undressed. I was mostly afraid for Frederick.
It was about 10 a.m. at this point, and after this heart-to-heart with this lovely nurse, who agreed to help me with the rest of my delivery, I was able to proceed. I no longer had someone telling me to "PUSH push push!" over and over again. During my resting phase, I had to do a lot of deep breathing pushing, and he was more visible than he was before when the nurse originally told me to start pushing. So, pushing at this point wasn't bad until he started crowning. And then I asked if they could just pull him out of me at that point. They, of course, told me no. Frederick was finally born at 10:26 a.m. after about 12 hours of "active" labor.
Tycho didn't cry as much when he was born; he was rather quite, but Frederick had lusty cries when he finally came out. I cried. I was relieved. I was so happy to hear his cry at that moment. He was okay for me to hold him after a few minutes (the best reward for a 2-degree tear), and they took him to monitor him again. He wasn't as big as I expected; he was 9 lbs 1 oz. I wasn't sure how long he was right away because for whatever reason they didn't measure him. He ended up being 20 inches long, though.
We had three names for this little guy that finally won out: over the long debate: Frederick, Charles, and Gabriel. (The fact that we were able to narrow your name down from a list with a 101 options is a miracle, kid. I still laugh about the option "He who shall not be named"--seemed fitting for the time.) As much as I loved the name Gabriel, it didn't fit. And while I had some reservations about the name Frederick, we ended up with that name. (Sorry, Fred, you and a family dog have the same name. This would have been the same case with Charles, too...If your dad had his way, we would have called you Wolfric which means king of wolves, so I'm not sure which is the best name after all. But Captain Wentworth from the book Persausion is named Frederick, and I like him.)
I got to be with my baby for an hour before he was whisked off to the NICU. If I had to pinpoint which was the hardest part about this experience, it was this moment. Greg followed Frederick, and I was wheeled to my recovery room. The crappy part about the epidural is not walking afterward.
The next couple of days in the hospital were incredibly difficult, and at the moment, I don't think I could write about them.
When Frederick was finally released from the NICU, I felt like I could actually relax with my baby. I had been so worried and stressed about this little guy that when he was finally in my arms without a bunch of monitors, I was relieved and happy. I felt like I could finally connect with this little guy after all these months. He was mine, and I was able to care for him the best way I knew how.
P.S. For your next labor experience, I recommend using birth affirmation cards. I made some--about 25 cards-- and they were of great help to me while I was in labor. I read through them several times. They ranged from scriptures like Deut 31:6, D&C 88:63, & Alma 36:27 to thoughts like "My body is relaxed and calm" to "Relax jaw, soft cervix." Really marvelous thoughts. I wanted to have a positive experience with this birth despite everything that could have happened afterward, so I made positive notes for me to read.
P.S.S. I didn't mind my labor experience this time. It was actually pretty good over all. I was happy about the way things turned out--I was able to go into labor on my own. I was able to do things at my own pace after vocalizing my opinions (pushing), and, of course, Frederick turned out to be well. The only part I feel bad about is when I told Greg that I didn't like a particular friend any more because she has a high pain tolerance and I could not do natural labor (I am super jealous, and I do like this person still).
Monday, August 14, 2017
Labor with Frederick part 1
For those of you who like labor and delivery stories, this post is for you.
Almost a week before I gave birth, I had my last doctor's appointment. I was already considered a day past my due date, so my doctor ended up scheduling an induction date for me as well. Initially, we decided on Wednesday, June 28, which I thought was alright because if I was induced, I knew the baby would come on a even day of the month which would follow the family tradition of being born on an even day of the month, but because I wouldn't have a nurse or something rather, they decided to make my induction date June 27. I didn't like that date at all.
My mother-in-law arrived in town the day of my last O.B. appointment, and it was such a blessing that Frederick decided to wait until after she arrived to be born. Since she had to fly from the States to Canada, we weren't really sure when she should come because babies decide to come whenever they want. But we hoped that this little guy would be late like his brother was, and I have to say that being okay with a late baby this time was a relief except I REALLY didn't want to be induced again. I was close to calling up my doctor and asking, "Can we move this induction day to another day... like later in the week?" At the same time, I was kind of afraid to give birth later in the week because I had an ultrasound appointment the same day as my last O.B. appointment, and they estimated the baby to be 9 lbs 6 oz. I wasn't willing to be induced but at the same time I wasn't willing to give vaginal birth to a 9 1/2 lb baby. So here I was, in limbo, waiting for a baby to arrive now his grandma was in town.
So during that time, I scrubbed the floor, walked around with Tycho, exercised, drank red raspberry leaf tea, ate spicy Indian food hoping the baby would make his debut on his own.
On Sunday evening, our wonderful friends dropped off the fresh pork products we were able to get from mutual friends of ours. To show appreciation for this delivery, I made some bread to give to them only it wasn't ready in time for them to take it home. So I told my friends I'd deliver the bread to them the following day hoping that I'd be in labor and not really deliver the bread (!). Alas, while I had a few contractions that woke me up from my sleep, I wasn't in active labor, and in fact, I thought they were just some heavy duty Braxton Hicks. So I delivered the bread.
My mother-in-law, Tycho, and I delivered the bread, and during that time we were visiting with our friends, I kept having irregular waves of pain that would take some of my focus to get through, but when they went away while I was shopping after delivering the bread, I thought, "Well, that's too bad, I guess I'll go on with my day." I didn't tell anyone about these contractions initially because, frankly, I didn't want to alarm anyone or pressure myself any further. Not having the experience of going into labor on my own, I wasn't sure what to expect.
I had some difficultly getting Tycho to nap that day, and when I finally did get him to lie down, I also took a nap, too. We had a late afternoon nap, and during that time, I had a few more contractions that took my breath away, but since they weren't regular, I ignored them. Any time I was relaxing, I would have contractions. (I later learned that you have more contractions when you are resting.) I told Greg that evening before making dinner that we might have to go to the hospital. I ended up watching clips of Jim Gaffigan on youtube while making dinner because the waves of pain were a little unbearable, but I could manage them, and then they would go away. Ironically, the entire time I was having these contractions, I was trying to get myself ready for an induction the following day. I was so angry that I wasn't in labor yet. Once again, I kept thinking, my body failed to go into labor, and I'd have to be induced which I really didn't want to go through.
As I was putting Tycho to bed, at a very late hour, I'm ashamed to admit, I started having intense contractions about every 7 minutes apart. Long story short, I still nurse Tycho (I wished I weaned him sooner, but he was teething...for several months straight. *sigh* I guess you just have to be a mean mom sooner or later and pull the plug--nipple.), and nipple stimulation is a real thing for helping labor progress... Poor kid was upset because I ended up having to leave before he was asleep. I ended up using the intercom system on our house phone, and telling Greg he needed to put Tycho to bed. When he came upstairs, he realized that he needed to take me to the hospital right away and had his mom put Tycho to bed. I told him, I was fine, and that I could wait a little longer to go to the hospital, but Greg insisted that we had to go, but I insisted that I'd take a bath first as I hadn't showered that day, but taking a bath did nothing to help me calm down or stop shaking, and Greg had me out of the tub and into the car to take the almost hour-long drive to the hospital.
During our drive, I had major contractions every 6 minutes with a little contractions 3 minutes apart...okay so contractions 3 minutes a part. We were lucky that I had gone into labor so late at night so the traffic wasn't bad, but whenever there was a minor inconvenience (why are we at a red light at 1 a.m.?!!) I'd start talking like a pirate... I was lucky that there were so few inconveniences, and that Greg could drive well despite my yelling at least every 6 minutes. ;) I have to add that sitting still in the car was so hard for my body; I couldn't relax, and my body was shaking uncontrollably.
By the time we got to triage, I learned I was 6-7 cm dilated. Hahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Hooray I went into labor on my own!
I got two vials of blood taken and an hook up for an IV from an experienced nurse just *in case* I wanted an epidural. (After I had Tycho, I was nervous about having an IV again, because it was done so poorly, so I requested an experienced nurse to do the deed.) Sadly, I almost passed out after having blood drawn, and I ended up needing to be wheeled to my delivery room. How embarrassing.
I listened to a playlist of songs I compiled while I paced next to my bed, no longer shaking uncontrollably because I was able to relax. (Btw, Queen's "Don't Stop me Now" was not a good choice for the playlist. I am NOT having a good time, Freddie Mercury.) I had to have a heart monitor for the little guy, so I couldn't stray far except for the time I felt like I had to pee so badly, and then I was helped over to the bathroom. The first nurse attending me was awesome and fetched me popsicles and was easy to talk with. Around 5 a.m. my labor pains got to be so intense that I could neither sit not stand, and my water broke from the top, so it would trickle down during each contraction, making a mess all over, so I opted for the epidural after much prodding and support from Greg. Looking back, I am happy with that decision despite the desire for a natural delivery, but I was unable to get comfortable during contractions. Plus, I was starting to talk like a pirate again, and I felt like that was the wrong experience for me and everyone around me. And unlike Grand River Hospital, McMaster's doesn't leave a catheter in the entire time you're laboring with an epidural which made the experience much better.
My second nurse was a drill sergeant; she camein around 7:30 a.m. Around 9 a.m. she checked my cervix, and told me I was 10 cm, and since I was 10 cm, I should start pushing NOW. So I started pushing. She would repeat over and over "PUSH push push push push!" It was starting to get annoying and super frustrating to have her boss me around. I wanted to be in an optimal pushing position, but I COULDN'T get comfortable on my back and I couldn't feel that pressure to push like I felt with Tycho. I tried explaining this, but she ignored me. "You're going to be uncomfortable no matter what, so just start pushing!" So I told her after a few attempts to push that I wanted to rest....and I took the passive aggressive way out of this situation and she ended up leaving to go on break or something.
Almost a week before I gave birth, I had my last doctor's appointment. I was already considered a day past my due date, so my doctor ended up scheduling an induction date for me as well. Initially, we decided on Wednesday, June 28, which I thought was alright because if I was induced, I knew the baby would come on a even day of the month which would follow the family tradition of being born on an even day of the month, but because I wouldn't have a nurse or something rather, they decided to make my induction date June 27. I didn't like that date at all.
My mother-in-law arrived in town the day of my last O.B. appointment, and it was such a blessing that Frederick decided to wait until after she arrived to be born. Since she had to fly from the States to Canada, we weren't really sure when she should come because babies decide to come whenever they want. But we hoped that this little guy would be late like his brother was, and I have to say that being okay with a late baby this time was a relief except I REALLY didn't want to be induced again. I was close to calling up my doctor and asking, "Can we move this induction day to another day... like later in the week?" At the same time, I was kind of afraid to give birth later in the week because I had an ultrasound appointment the same day as my last O.B. appointment, and they estimated the baby to be 9 lbs 6 oz. I wasn't willing to be induced but at the same time I wasn't willing to give vaginal birth to a 9 1/2 lb baby. So here I was, in limbo, waiting for a baby to arrive now his grandma was in town.
So during that time, I scrubbed the floor, walked around with Tycho, exercised, drank red raspberry leaf tea, ate spicy Indian food hoping the baby would make his debut on his own.
On Sunday evening, our wonderful friends dropped off the fresh pork products we were able to get from mutual friends of ours. To show appreciation for this delivery, I made some bread to give to them only it wasn't ready in time for them to take it home. So I told my friends I'd deliver the bread to them the following day hoping that I'd be in labor and not really deliver the bread (!). Alas, while I had a few contractions that woke me up from my sleep, I wasn't in active labor, and in fact, I thought they were just some heavy duty Braxton Hicks. So I delivered the bread.
My mother-in-law, Tycho, and I delivered the bread, and during that time we were visiting with our friends, I kept having irregular waves of pain that would take some of my focus to get through, but when they went away while I was shopping after delivering the bread, I thought, "Well, that's too bad, I guess I'll go on with my day." I didn't tell anyone about these contractions initially because, frankly, I didn't want to alarm anyone or pressure myself any further. Not having the experience of going into labor on my own, I wasn't sure what to expect.
I had some difficultly getting Tycho to nap that day, and when I finally did get him to lie down, I also took a nap, too. We had a late afternoon nap, and during that time, I had a few more contractions that took my breath away, but since they weren't regular, I ignored them. Any time I was relaxing, I would have contractions. (I later learned that you have more contractions when you are resting.) I told Greg that evening before making dinner that we might have to go to the hospital. I ended up watching clips of Jim Gaffigan on youtube while making dinner because the waves of pain were a little unbearable, but I could manage them, and then they would go away. Ironically, the entire time I was having these contractions, I was trying to get myself ready for an induction the following day. I was so angry that I wasn't in labor yet. Once again, I kept thinking, my body failed to go into labor, and I'd have to be induced which I really didn't want to go through.
As I was putting Tycho to bed, at a very late hour, I'm ashamed to admit, I started having intense contractions about every 7 minutes apart. Long story short, I still nurse Tycho (I wished I weaned him sooner, but he was teething...for several months straight. *sigh* I guess you just have to be a mean mom sooner or later and pull the plug--nipple.), and nipple stimulation is a real thing for helping labor progress... Poor kid was upset because I ended up having to leave before he was asleep. I ended up using the intercom system on our house phone, and telling Greg he needed to put Tycho to bed. When he came upstairs, he realized that he needed to take me to the hospital right away and had his mom put Tycho to bed. I told him, I was fine, and that I could wait a little longer to go to the hospital, but Greg insisted that we had to go, but I insisted that I'd take a bath first as I hadn't showered that day, but taking a bath did nothing to help me calm down or stop shaking, and Greg had me out of the tub and into the car to take the almost hour-long drive to the hospital.
During our drive, I had major contractions every 6 minutes with a little contractions 3 minutes apart...okay so contractions 3 minutes a part. We were lucky that I had gone into labor so late at night so the traffic wasn't bad, but whenever there was a minor inconvenience (why are we at a red light at 1 a.m.?!!) I'd start talking like a pirate... I was lucky that there were so few inconveniences, and that Greg could drive well despite my yelling at least every 6 minutes. ;) I have to add that sitting still in the car was so hard for my body; I couldn't relax, and my body was shaking uncontrollably.
By the time we got to triage, I learned I was 6-7 cm dilated. Hahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Hooray I went into labor on my own!
I got two vials of blood taken and an hook up for an IV from an experienced nurse just *in case* I wanted an epidural. (After I had Tycho, I was nervous about having an IV again, because it was done so poorly, so I requested an experienced nurse to do the deed.) Sadly, I almost passed out after having blood drawn, and I ended up needing to be wheeled to my delivery room. How embarrassing.
I listened to a playlist of songs I compiled while I paced next to my bed, no longer shaking uncontrollably because I was able to relax. (Btw, Queen's "Don't Stop me Now" was not a good choice for the playlist. I am NOT having a good time, Freddie Mercury.) I had to have a heart monitor for the little guy, so I couldn't stray far except for the time I felt like I had to pee so badly, and then I was helped over to the bathroom. The first nurse attending me was awesome and fetched me popsicles and was easy to talk with. Around 5 a.m. my labor pains got to be so intense that I could neither sit not stand, and my water broke from the top, so it would trickle down during each contraction, making a mess all over, so I opted for the epidural after much prodding and support from Greg. Looking back, I am happy with that decision despite the desire for a natural delivery, but I was unable to get comfortable during contractions. Plus, I was starting to talk like a pirate again, and I felt like that was the wrong experience for me and everyone around me. And unlike Grand River Hospital, McMaster's doesn't leave a catheter in the entire time you're laboring with an epidural which made the experience much better.
My second nurse was a drill sergeant; she camein around 7:30 a.m. Around 9 a.m. she checked my cervix, and told me I was 10 cm, and since I was 10 cm, I should start pushing NOW. So I started pushing. She would repeat over and over "PUSH push push push push!" It was starting to get annoying and super frustrating to have her boss me around. I wanted to be in an optimal pushing position, but I COULDN'T get comfortable on my back and I couldn't feel that pressure to push like I felt with Tycho. I tried explaining this, but she ignored me. "You're going to be uncomfortable no matter what, so just start pushing!" So I told her after a few attempts to push that I wanted to rest....and I took the passive aggressive way out of this situation and she ended up leaving to go on break or something.
Thursday, April 20, 2017
Weird Pregnancy Question
Why do people always ask how you are feeling when you're pregnant? But not at any other time during your life? I feel like it's the oddest question to receive. What do you want me to say? Pregnancy sucks. That I'm fine--nothing about pregnancy bothers me. And I always feel like it comes at the wrong point in pregnancy. Talk to me during the first trimester, and I will tell you all the feelings.
I guess this thought comes from the fact that I am carrying a child with a heart abnormality which kind of sucks. And I know people don't realize that they are asking me a dumb question. I know they mean well, but I know they aren't asking about my baby with a heart abnormality.
So how do I honestly feel? Alone. Stressed out and scared for my baby. Nervous about how he'll adjust to being outside of the womb. Annoyed by trips to a hospital that's an hour away with appointments that take forever and end up during Tycho's nap time...*sigh* like I do well with nap time anyway. Frustrated with the lack of control over my life.
Otherwise, my pregnancy is going well. Thanks for asking.
I guess this thought comes from the fact that I am carrying a child with a heart abnormality which kind of sucks. And I know people don't realize that they are asking me a dumb question. I know they mean well, but I know they aren't asking about my baby with a heart abnormality.
So how do I honestly feel? Alone. Stressed out and scared for my baby. Nervous about how he'll adjust to being outside of the womb. Annoyed by trips to a hospital that's an hour away with appointments that take forever and end up during Tycho's nap time...*sigh* like I do well with nap time anyway. Frustrated with the lack of control over my life.
Otherwise, my pregnancy is going well. Thanks for asking.
Monday, April 10, 2017
Just because I'm pregnant, doesn't mean I'm an invalid
I know some of my posts have become rants lately. I apologize.
The title of this post says it all. I may be pregnant, but it doesn't mean that I am unable to do stuff. If I was, I'd ask for help or say something. But when I want to do something myself, I will do that said thing. When I was in second grade, I broke my arm falling off the monkey bars. I got up on my own, and walked over to the teacher on duty and said, "I think I broke my arm," as I held up my clearly bent wrist. I wished so much I have that ability to do that in more cases, but I can't. Another time, I was getting blood work done to see if I was iron-efficient. They did the little finger prick, but when the blood wasn't flowing, the nurse asked to see if I could help by pressing on my finger. As I did, I realized I was going to throw up, and I ran out of the room. I know my limits.
Guys, I'm not saying I want to work out in rice fields every day and eventually go into labor as I'm working out in the fields like O-Lan from the book The Good Earth, but I don't want to be like the woman from the short story The Yellow Wallpaper (yes, I know that this story takes place AFTER she gives birth, but same point), and not be able to lift a damned finger.
Today while seven months pregnant, I moved several pieces of furniture in my son's room (dresser, book case, and chair). I've asked for help in moving other pieces of furniture in his room because I know I can't do it.
The title of this post says it all. I may be pregnant, but it doesn't mean that I am unable to do stuff. If I was, I'd ask for help or say something. But when I want to do something myself, I will do that said thing. When I was in second grade, I broke my arm falling off the monkey bars. I got up on my own, and walked over to the teacher on duty and said, "I think I broke my arm," as I held up my clearly bent wrist. I wished so much I have that ability to do that in more cases, but I can't. Another time, I was getting blood work done to see if I was iron-efficient. They did the little finger prick, but when the blood wasn't flowing, the nurse asked to see if I could help by pressing on my finger. As I did, I realized I was going to throw up, and I ran out of the room. I know my limits.
Guys, I'm not saying I want to work out in rice fields every day and eventually go into labor as I'm working out in the fields like O-Lan from the book The Good Earth, but I don't want to be like the woman from the short story The Yellow Wallpaper (yes, I know that this story takes place AFTER she gives birth, but same point), and not be able to lift a damned finger.
Today while seven months pregnant, I moved several pieces of furniture in my son's room (dresser, book case, and chair). I've asked for help in moving other pieces of furniture in his room because I know I can't do it.
Sunday, March 5, 2017
Keep lunches simple
Last night, I was struggling to get dinner on the table. I thought, "All I am making is soup, bread, and salad. Why is this taking so long, and why is my child yelling at me for the billionth time?" My dinner was really hands on as I decided to make a dinner that I hadn't yet tried making and several items were from scratch. I was pretty bummed to see that my child didn't eat much of this food. Of course, the bread and the salad were a no-go for him. Even though he's one, he should still be interested in trying everything, right?
When I started making lunches for myself while I was in high school, I made a sandwich, threw in a apple and a yogurt, and called it good. Occasionally, I'd make something different. But usually I kept things simple because I didn't have time before I went off to seminary in the morning to make something tastier. I ate everything in my lunch because I was hungry and that's what I had to eat. When I went to university, I started making lunches again for my husband and me. (If I would have been smarter, I would have done leftovers since microwaves were available, but no, I stuck to the sandwich routine.) I added more food than I did in high school because I would be walking long distances, studying (studying always made me hungry), and be away from home for long hours. I look at these lunch box ideas on pinterest and wonder if I would even have the time to make these lunches. Cute sandwich pictures? Kebabs? Salads? As a student, I didn't have time for that. And now as a mom, I find that I don't have time to make in depth meals all the time, and making complicated lunches or meals adds more to my to-do list.
My second thought is do kids even eat all of those foods they have pictured? I love vegetables...after bread, meat, cheese, and fruit. I love vegetables more when they are cooked, and with cold lunches, you don't get the option of throwing tasty vegetables that are cooked. As a kid, I generally didn't even eat the offered the cooked vegetables I got from the school cafeteria... my parents weren't there to make me. I'm not saying give your kids junk food, but give them food they will eat. (If they are going to eat the grape tomatoes then throw them in.) But make your lunch simple. They will know that you love them for making them a sandwich and tossing in a fruit and crackers, AND they won't starve between the time they go to school and the time they return home because you didn't put their sandwich on stick.
In short, save your energy from making complicated lunches and feed them all the cooked vegetables when they return home.
Sunday, February 19, 2017
pregnancy #2, week 20 something
I realized I haven't documented this pregnancy at all on here. Possibly, I have been distracted by a toddler who won't let me type for long on a computer without commandeering it for himself. I've also found myself reading quite a bit because I want to enjoy that time while I can.
We found out that we were pregnant on Thanksgiving (Canadian Thanksgiving), and the news was quite exciting. Greg, however, wanted to keep things quiet until we saw our family in December. That was SO hard for me to do! I'm not sure why people want to keep things quiet during the first trimester. I feel my worst during that time, and talking to someone about it makes you feel a little better. We had our first appointment with our midwife on American Thanksgiving, which was quite cool. So this baby is truly our Thanksgiving baby...not that we aren't thankful for Tycho.
We found out last Wednesday that we're having a boy. I thought for sure we were having a girl based on the horrible, horrible morning sickness I had. (The highlights of said morning sickness are throwing up during stake conference and getting to leave early--Greg was SO happy to leave, and at 14 weeks, I got sick in a parking lot right after doing blood work). Although, I did read that drinking cold water only makes your tummy more upset. And during the period of morning sickness I could only drink cold, cold water, however, and I think that may have been a contributing factor. Who knows? I am excited for another boy. I have pretty much all the clothes and such for him, but also, I grew up with a sister, and my husband had all brothers. I like the idea of having same-gendered siblings for kids. (Although, if we have another, I hope for a girl.)
I've been feeling this baby kick up a storm lately, and it warms my heart. I think I first felt him move right around Christmas. That was exciting for me. I've only started to notice the kicking on the outside of the tummy lately, and I find it difficult to determine when he'll be moving so that Tycho or Greg can feel the baby, too.
I remember when I was pregnant with Tycho I did not want citrus at all. I had almost an entire box of clementines that I ended up giving away because they didn't suit me. This pregnancy, I've been down with citrus...in moderation, of course. I've craved is peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with a glass of milk lately as well as cereal and biscuits and gravy. My guess is I need the calcium. I'm just not big on drinking milk by itself.
The one thing I've been trying to work on is working out. This is so hard to do right around this time of year in Canada! I was quite happy with the fact that I didn't gain weight during the first trimester, but this trimester got me, and I feel the need to move my body. I feel so big already! Where did this belly come from?!
The only downside to this pregnancy is finding out the day following the ultrasound is that we need to go see a specialist because the ultrasound suggested that there's a possible problem with baby's heart. Yay for advanced medicine, but boo to uncertainty and waiting. This appointment was a possibility last week, and then they did schedule it for more than a month from now. Who does that to a pregnant woman?! The anxiety for this appointment was high initially, but it's gradually decreased. (Doesn't mean that I don't have strong words them for keeping me waiting.) They scheduled the appointment so far away because (1) not life-threatening--which is good, but still frustrating to have to wait, and (2) to possibly see the heart a bit better when they have a look at the baby in a month. My one consolation is that Tycho will be teething quite a bit for the next little while. One cuspid on one side won't stand alone for long, right? So you know, I get to deal with his pain, and not think about this appointment.
So anyway, that's what's going on thus far in this pregnancy. I'll update on what's happening to baby next month.
We found out that we were pregnant on Thanksgiving (Canadian Thanksgiving), and the news was quite exciting. Greg, however, wanted to keep things quiet until we saw our family in December. That was SO hard for me to do! I'm not sure why people want to keep things quiet during the first trimester. I feel my worst during that time, and talking to someone about it makes you feel a little better. We had our first appointment with our midwife on American Thanksgiving, which was quite cool. So this baby is truly our Thanksgiving baby...not that we aren't thankful for Tycho.
We found out last Wednesday that we're having a boy. I thought for sure we were having a girl based on the horrible, horrible morning sickness I had. (The highlights of said morning sickness are throwing up during stake conference and getting to leave early--Greg was SO happy to leave, and at 14 weeks, I got sick in a parking lot right after doing blood work). Although, I did read that drinking cold water only makes your tummy more upset. And during the period of morning sickness I could only drink cold, cold water, however, and I think that may have been a contributing factor. Who knows? I am excited for another boy. I have pretty much all the clothes and such for him, but also, I grew up with a sister, and my husband had all brothers. I like the idea of having same-gendered siblings for kids. (Although, if we have another, I hope for a girl.)
I've been feeling this baby kick up a storm lately, and it warms my heart. I think I first felt him move right around Christmas. That was exciting for me. I've only started to notice the kicking on the outside of the tummy lately, and I find it difficult to determine when he'll be moving so that Tycho or Greg can feel the baby, too.
I remember when I was pregnant with Tycho I did not want citrus at all. I had almost an entire box of clementines that I ended up giving away because they didn't suit me. This pregnancy, I've been down with citrus...in moderation, of course. I've craved is peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with a glass of milk lately as well as cereal and biscuits and gravy. My guess is I need the calcium. I'm just not big on drinking milk by itself.
The one thing I've been trying to work on is working out. This is so hard to do right around this time of year in Canada! I was quite happy with the fact that I didn't gain weight during the first trimester, but this trimester got me, and I feel the need to move my body. I feel so big already! Where did this belly come from?!
The only downside to this pregnancy is finding out the day following the ultrasound is that we need to go see a specialist because the ultrasound suggested that there's a possible problem with baby's heart. Yay for advanced medicine, but boo to uncertainty and waiting. This appointment was a possibility last week, and then they did schedule it for more than a month from now. Who does that to a pregnant woman?! The anxiety for this appointment was high initially, but it's gradually decreased. (Doesn't mean that I don't have strong words them for keeping me waiting.) They scheduled the appointment so far away because (1) not life-threatening--which is good, but still frustrating to have to wait, and (2) to possibly see the heart a bit better when they have a look at the baby in a month. My one consolation is that Tycho will be teething quite a bit for the next little while. One cuspid on one side won't stand alone for long, right? So you know, I get to deal with his pain, and not think about this appointment.
So anyway, that's what's going on thus far in this pregnancy. I'll update on what's happening to baby next month.
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