Monday, December 31, 2007

Decemberbaby is here!

It's a little girl for Mr. and Mrs. Decemberbaby over at Of course you'll get pregnant! Weeeeee. Am very very excited for her! Go say hi!

No resolutions here

I've decided that for me, resolutions always imply that I am currently inadequate in some way. They seriously bite into my self-esteem, and are not very productive in terms of making changes in my life.

For the world, for casual conversations, I'm going to list something frivolous like, "I resolve to finally learn how to play the piano." Takes care of cocktail party chatter anyway, right? No need to bare my soul to strangers that way. But for real, nope, nothing, nada.

I'm just going to keep being me and try to have this baby, and muddle my way through the rest. It's the best imperfect me can do.

I'm not slagging anyone's choice to make a resolution btw, maybe it works better for them to have a specific goal. Whatever gets you through the night, right?

Speaking of poor self-observation skills, I can't decide which post I should submit to Mel's 2007 Creme de la Creme list, and I want to do it, since I did it last year, but I don't know which one is my best. Sooo, buds, my readers, can you tell me which post you think is my best? Is there anyone in particular that you think stands out? I'm not asking you to read through my entire blog or anything, I'm just wondering if you can think of something good you liked in particular.

Off to do many errands and maybe go to a New Year's Eve Party. Take care all, and have a happy one.

Sunday, December 30, 2007

Some of you may have noticed I've been distracted

Which is good---and bad.

I wish I was distracted by a surprise trip around the world, but that's not quite going to happen, so nevermind. Instead I got distracted by Mac's illness, which is practically cured! Mind-blowing how he can be bedridden one day and attempting to jump off the swingset a few days later. Resilient little guys, eh?

But I did kind of forget about what happened 3 years ago right around this time. I knew it was coming up, and got very very stressed about it, and then, everything shifted and I barely remembered my name.

But just so you all know...I know I still have more work to do to make sure that this never ever happens to another person, ever. I just have to figure out the legalities around it---not hard for my little obsessed brain, I hope. Apparently, Massachusetts and California have laws that prevent this from happening, and if they can do it, then Canada can right?

I saw a new shrink the other day, and we spoke briefly about this and some other experiences, and it occurred to me that for the last year or so, I'm starting to internalize that a lot of this crap has been done to me, and that it was not caused by me; two different things. Now I said starting, so don't get me wrong, I know that deep down I still blame myself for terrible things that have happened to me, and it's completely illogical to blame myself, blah blah blah, but that kind of CBT type of therapy never stuck to my brain. I needed to feel this deep down. I keep wondering if it was the EMDR therapy I did, or maybe the courses of propranolol? Or maybe just the passage of time.

Don't know....but tonight, I'm not feeling quite so crappy about it. And that has to be a good thing.

Friday, December 28, 2007

A day of rest

Mac is doing much better. I updated a bit in the comments yesterday but I realized not everyone reads them, whoops...

To give a better update, he's doing dramatically better, nothing like a major round of superantibiotics to kill off whatever bug was in there. He's able to bounce and run and jump, all good signs in my book, since he was wheelchair bound a few days ago. And no we don't know if he had a torsion that reversed itself and left inflammation in it's wake, or a virus that caused inflammation, or a bacterial infection that caused inflammation. (Epididymitis, or the infection theory, is the diagnosis for the moment, I think they are wrong, since every article I read insists that there had to be some sort of underlying infection or UTI or urinary symptoms, and Mac had none, absolutely none.)

And we don't know if there are any lasting effects like sterility, or damage to the blood vessels and we may not know for awhile until all the redness and swelling completely goes and we can do a follow up with a pediatric urologist to examine him and figure out if he has a structural abnormality which caused this meaning it may happen again, or if it was just bad luck and happened out of the blue.

Strange as it may sound, I'm kind of hoping that it was a structural issue because the surgery to fix it is very very easy and we'll never have to worry about it again once he gets it. But hoping it never happens again & having to rely on dumb luck? Ohhhh, that almost never works out for me.

The pediatrician, (our regular one was off for the holidays, so we saw her partner) was pretty shocked at the extent of the infection and the swelling and assured us that we had done the right thing getting him into the ER asap. We're getting a referral to a specialist after they go over the official report from the radiologist and figure out what we need.

Odd little observations from the Sick Kids ER:

-most important piece of equipment in the hospital? TV/VCR/DVD with a large stock of kid's shows. I know, you think the MRI is more important---but remember, you need to get the kid into the machine, quiet and calm first before the MRI can even start. When you are trying to get a little boy to sit still for an hour while you press an ultrasound wand on his tender parts? Seriously, you want a Shrek video on to distract him. And of course, the only show on in the middle of the night? Goldmember---chuckle.

-why do people insist on going to the ER for the sniffles? Really, people, if the kid has the croup (barking cough), or they are running a seriously high fever, or having an acute asthma attack, you should go to a hospital ER, but for sniffles? A 39 degree C fever? A slight cough? Sigh---have any of the parents in my city ever heard of a walk-in clinic?

-they actually faxed the requisition from the ER to the U/S resident upstairs and then faxed the interim report back, both with poor handwriting----god forbid they use the internal secure computer system. Doctors are seriously bizarre the way they rely on pieces of paper and fax machines. Do you know that most businesses don't even own standalone fax machines anymore? If they have one, it's an all-in-one printer/scanner/fax and it is used for sending & receiving documents electronically by virtual fax or email. There are medical privacy issues, security issues, integration & continuity of care issues, storage and environmental issues with paper records, and yet, the entire medical profession insists on using paper! Doctors are so so strange....

-no food kiosks in the hospital open at all, not even Tim Hortons! It's usually open 24 hours for hot coffee and snacks and sandwiches, etc. but with the holidays, they decided to close early. They kept the Timmies open on the Trans Canada Highway and all the rest stops 24/7, and the ones close to cinemas and movies, but I guess critical medical staff, stressed out parents and sick children are supposed to starve all night...hey yo Tim Hortons Canada if you read this, YOU SUCK. Just the humble opinion of a hungry pregnant mom who really really needed something to eat.

So we've been trying to catch up on sleep and relax and putter a bit around here, get some laundry done, maybe tidy up some prezzies.

Speaking of which, I got a Blackberry Curve for Christmas so if anyone of you notice me commenting on your blogs from one, yes, that's me! Well, it will be if I ever figure out how to use it and am able to surf without blowing my budget completely. Right now, I'm just trying to figure out how to turn the darn thing on.

Thursday, December 27, 2007

Quick update

We had to go back to the hospital this evening, everything started to get much much worse.

We're home again, with a stronger antibiotic, and some codeine. We had another ultrasound, and they still saw blood flow going to all the necessary parts which means things are still working, but I'm still freaking out. We are not out of the woods. I can't wait to see my pediatrician tomorrow. She is a gem, and knows that Mac is utterly stoic when in pain. Unlike the bonehead urology resident....."Oh, he's fine, look he should be screaming if I do that, and he isn't." Uh duh, this is the kid who cried for one minute only after he broke his nose after running face first into a concrete planter. He's not going to ever let YOU see him cry, asshat. He'll wait until you leave, and then quietly let one tear fall while snuggled in my arms. (And if you know that something makes a child scream, then don't fucking do it, at some point it's not medicine, it's sadism you cruel bastard.)

Oh, and Doc, when mothers tell you their kids are acting oddly, the rule in peds, is always always always LISTEN to the mom. She may not know exactly what is wrong, but if she tells you something is wrong with her kid, then something is WRONG with her kid, so don't patronize her. Like when you used extra big words to try and prove how smart you were? Uh hello, Mr.Cotta speaks Latin, and I know how to interpret Pompous Ass, so maybe you should stop while you're ahead and shut up already?

Remind me to go back and beat someone with a stupid stick when this is over folks.

And since you all know my usual dark humor method of dealing with terrifying stressful moments, I'm going to share the little ditty that has been stuck in my head, playing over and over and over again. This video ad for Fruit of the Loom has the tune.

(Yes, I am deeply warped, you're surprised?)

Ting-a-ling, God damn, find a woman if you can.
If you can't find a woman, find a clean old man.
If you're ever in Gibraltar, take a flying fuck at Walter.
Can you do the double shuffle when your balls hang low?

Do your balls hang low? Do they swing to and fro?
Can you tie 'em in a knot? Can you tie 'em in a bow?
Can you throw 'em o'er your shoulder like a Continental soldier?
Can you do the double shuffle when your balls hang low?

Do your balls hang low? Do they swing to and fro?
Can you tie 'em in a knot? Can you tie 'em in a bow?
Do they make a lusty clamor when you hit them with a hammer?
Can you do the double shuffle when your balls hang low?

Do your balls hang low? Do they swing to and fro?
Can you tie 'em in a knot? Can you tie 'em in a bow?
Can you bounce 'em off the wall like an Indian rubber ball?
Can you do the double shuffle when your balls hang low?

Do your balls hang low? Do they swing to and fro?
Can you tie 'em in a knot? Can you tie 'em in a bow?
Do they have a hollow sound when you drag 'em on the ground?
Can you do the double shuffle when your balls hang low?

Do your balls hang low? Do they swing to and fro?
Can you tie 'em in a knot? Can you tie 'em in a bow?
Do they have a mellow tingle when you hit 'em with a shingle?
Can you do the double shuffle when your balls hang low?

Do your balls hang low? Do they swing to and fro?
Can you tie 'em in a knot? Can you tie 'em in a bow?
Do they have a salty taste when you wrap 'em 'round your waist?
Can you do the double shuffle when your balls hang low?

Do your balls hang low? Do they swing to and fro?
Can you tie 'em in a knot? Can you tie 'em in a bow?
Do they chime like a gong when you pull upon your dong?
Can you do the double shuffle when your balls hang low?

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

My Second Home

Not sure what all of you were doing on Christmas night, but I decided to visit my second home at the Hospital for Sick Kids ER. And I brought my son Mac.

I swear, I never thought I'd be writing this post. Short version: he's home now, on not enough painkillers and very strong antibiotics and we have to keep careful watch over him for the next few days. And most likely we'll be going back there anyway.

He came to me last night about 10:30 after we were getting him dressed in his jammies. He was complaining that his testicles hurt and were all red and swollen. All our dinner guests had just left (We were 12 in total around the table this year.) The Boys and I had talks in the past about using proper names for all of our private parts, just in case a doctor ever asks a question and needs to know exactly what hurts. And frankly, as a method of safeguarding the boys from creeps. We'd also talked about checking their testicles and penis regularly for any changes (lumps, bumps, redness, sores, swelling, pain, etc.) and how important it is to tell us or a Doctor and not to ever ever be embarassed by it.

Now to be honest, I'm always embarassed by the subject, but hell, it's part of raising boys right? And thank God, I didn't let a little blushing get in the way of Mac's health. Thank God Thank God Thank God----I just can't repeat that enough right now, scuse me.

So his testicles hurt, and I told him I needed to see them, thinking geez, what did he do now? Bash them on something? Little guys who are daredevils can hurt themselves pretty easily. But no, his left testicle was ridiculously swollen and bright red. It was in sharp pain, but the rest of his groin wasn't. I called my husband upstairs and we both sort of wondered what the hell was going on. We gave him some Advil and let him go to sleep.

I plugged his symptoms into Dr.Google, and found various articles on testicular torsion. I read the parts about urgent medical emergency, risk of infertility, sterility, loss of testicles, and decided to go to the ER.

My husband couldn't come, because he had been drinking wine with everyone at dinner and couldn't drive, and he had to stay home with Kaz. Lucky I was pregnant so I was I bundled him up and drove to Sick Kids. We saw the nurse at triage right away, and then got moved immediately to a room. Mac was in so much pain he had to use a wheelchair. We saw a resident, then gave a urine sample, then saw the attending Doc. The resident was convinced he saw a reflex response (called cremasteric reflex) on Mac's leg that shows testicular movement, and therefore he was fine, but I didn't see them move. I may not be a Doc, but I've got eyes! The attending couldn't find the reflex, so he suggested an ultrasound.

That took forever, since the resident and the fellow needed to do the ultrasound over and over to get the right pictures and figure out whether he needed emergency surgery or not. I kept calling my husband keeping him updated....we were there for hours by the time everyone consulted with each other.

The consensus is that his testicle twisted on the cord, and went into torsion, then untwisted, and his epididymis is now seriously inflamed, possibly infected as a result. We finally left at 5:30 am with a scrip for cephlex and instructions to watch him. I'm still convinced this isn't over....but I'm so tired right now, I'm feeding the kid meds and taking a nap.

Do me a favour? Anyone reading this post---talk to the men and boys in your life about their testicles and tell them not to be too embarassed to get help when they need it. They could end up sterile, or castrated, or even, gulp, dead from infection or gangrene or cancer. And all because men hate doctors and don't want to talk about their balls.

If you love your son, your husband, or your Dad, practice saying the word TESTICLE out loud.

Tell them a 7 year old was brave enough to tell his mom he needed to see a Doctor and save his own balls, so maybe men like them can do it too.

Tuesday, December 25, 2007

Merry Christmas!!!!

I have been running around and wrapping and fetching and working for the last three or four days, so I've been a little incommunicado sweeties.

Monday morning I met with my OB and we had a talk, and I managed to choke out an explanation of just why I needed him to listen to me when I try to tell him exactly what I need to cope like during my amnio, when I asked for painkiller. And do you know what?

He understood...completely, absolutely, totally. We agreed that I would try and write out some ideas for him so that he can meet my needs, and after that---he apologized for not listening to me, and asked for my forgiveness. And then he hugged me. He really really meant it.

In all the years that I have been seeing doctors, the only one who has ever ever apologized like this was my GP, Dr. J, and she has only ever misplaced paperwork or something minor like that. Not one other Doc has been humble like this, not the ones who let me down when my children died, not even the SOBs who almost killed me with too much fentanyl in recovery after my lap, have ever ever ever actually admitted to anything wrong, apologized, and asked for my forgiveness. I was so floored I almost cried right there in his office.

I think I'm in love!

So on that happy note, my lovely wonderful friends, I have to go and tidy some stuff up so that Christmas can arrive.

I know this is a hard season for some of you, and normally it would be for me, but after my Christmas Eve present from my OB, I'm feeling pretty darn happy. Maybe my life is going better, or maybe I'm just viewing it that way? I don't know, but I'm feeling pretty positive. Maybe hopeful?

What a strange sensation....

Friday, December 21, 2007

Results are in...

I won't hold you in suspense any longer....the FiSH test results came in, and the baby is perfectly healthy, pending full amnio results.

We have perfect chromosomes 13, 18, & 21, and of course, X & Y. And yes, I'm having a BOY.

A healthy baby boy. Named Dinkypie, haha.

Okay, so I'll admit I'm a little scared, or maybe shocked, or maybe overwhelmed about the idea of having 3 Cotta boys, three wild, adventuresome, daredevil clones of their father. The two boys I have now, bear absolutely NO resemblance to me, none, except for the ADD. All of our friends and relatives agree that they look identical to my husband. Not one shred of me in them. Now my husband is always quick to say that they have my brains, and they are definitely absolutely brilliant and kind children, but I really have to share credit for personality and brains with him.

So now, I'm going to be a total narcissist and tell you that I really really hope that this kid looks a little bit like me, or is slightly less physically daredevil, or ummm, likes some of the same stuff I do, because damn it would be nice to have one other person on the planet who looks like me, or acts like me. I mean, there's no guarantee a girl would have looked like me or acted like me, right?

So maybe this baby could be the kid who won't run face first into walls for fun, right?


No, too much hubris showing, nevermind, shame on me. Getting over to my meeting with Dr.Placenta....he was very very nice.

And even though I went into BAMH's high risk clinic to meet him, nothing bad happened. For the first time ever, I walked into that hospital clinic, had an ultrasound, and didn't come out with a dead baby...a sign that my magical thinking is just that, magical thinking. So he did determine that my placenta has settled right over my fibroid, which considering my shitty history with retained placentas is a little unfortunate. Good news is that my placenta is getting lots of good blood flow and the arteries, etc, are all settled nicely around it and are not being blocked by it. Apparently, my blood flow is well established, and that doesn't always happen, which is one thing that happens when fibroids cause disasters with implantation, and women have miscarriages as a result. He says I'm not in danger of that, but, big but, I may have a problem at delivery, a severe problem of either placental abruption, (I had a partial with Mac), or placenta accreta, depending on the degree, which could be rather disastrous for the baby and for my poor battered uterus, which I'm rather attached to, and kind of want to keep.

The heparin and aspirin may have seriously changed the structure of my placenta for the better and done me a lot of good, and if that theory holds, I'll be fine, but he wants to see me again after my 18 week ultrasound and we'll keep checking it along with the other results. If it looks in anyway suspicious he'll be ordering an MRI and we'll get a better look. If I want it...

HAR, if he wanted to shove me into an Iron Maiden to save the baby I would do it. So ummm, duh, of course, I'll agree to it.

Off to a Christmas party now....the FiSH test is good news absolutely. Deserves some celebrating, I'm going to just roll with the placenta stuff at this point.

Thursday, December 20, 2007

I'm out of there are some things you guys don't know. Basically, I've been through some traumatic things in the past, and that amnio reignited them, more than a bit. So if my reaction seems a bit much, that's why. And no I can't write about it all out here, even here. So you'll just have to trust me that it's a big deal.

My GP, the lovely Dr.J. and I spoke on the phone today and she gave me some good advice on how to explain some of this to him. And if I can't get through to him, then she will speak to him. Knowing there is a plan, helps me cope a little more.

Anyway, Friday morning is my first and hopefully last needed consult with Dr.Placenta, who will I hope tell me that all looks good and send me on my way. I'm sure he'll want to drive me crazy with more appointments, but I don't know that I feel like doing that. We'll see.

Tomorrow afternoon, the FiSH results will be available, and I will know if everything looks good. Provided the genetics counsellor calls me---and doesn't lose all my numbers---and knows what the heck they are doing when they read off the report.

Anyway, the Boys were both wonderful, absolutely perfect, completely lovely. Mac's music teacher keeps telling me that he has perfect pitch, I can't tell, I just know he looks cute! And makes me very very proud to be his Mom. And I swear, if one more person tells me how talented Kaz is at acting and public speaking, my head will swell just from being related to him.

I'll let you guys know what's up with the Fish and the placenta after I get all the news.

Edited for a reason...someone on another blog made an assumption about who the person was that I referred to above, and caused some google searches. They were incorrect---there is more than one writer at the school. Several in time please email, I'll be happy to confirm or deny, and then at least you would get the real story. ;)

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

I'm back

I'm back from the amnio, the baby is alive and well, but honestly I'm wiped, I feel like a truck hit me. Between the crying jags this morning in anticipation of disaster and the screaming agony and pain I felt during the amnio, I'm a mess.

I'm really really unhappy right now with my OB. He treated me like a normal high risk patient, blah blah blah, kind, nice, don't worry, very gentle, but did not listen to my specific request for painkillers and freezing for the amnio. The average woman is just fine getting an amnio and doesn't need major painkillers, but if anyone reading this blog or my medical history thinks I'm average...whew, you must've missed something.

Like, my PTSD most recently made worse by invasive medical procedures, or my incredibly bruised & sore stomach which really doesn't react well to wide needles, or my pissed off anger at so-called medical professionals who don't listen to patients when they specifically tell Doctors what they need.

Sigh....I once posted here that all Doctors have faults, every last one of them, that there are no saviours, just some that are slightly better than others, and I almost forgot that for a moment. Stupid of me.

I have to keep remembering that there is no one on earth who can save my baby and my life except me. Always double check, always triple check, never assume, never trust. Terrible rules I have to live by. I know, the rest of you need to trust your Doctors, and by and large they won't screw up and you will be fine.

But that's not my life. I am the adoptee who got stuck with the shit family instead of the good one, the woman who has dead babies, the woman who had a body delivered to her door instead of the morgue, the woman who went for an average laparoscopy and almost died on the table when the anesthesiologist gave her too much fentanyl.

I guess I just feel very very beat up right now. I just don't get it----why me? What did I ever do to deserve all this shit?

Why can't I ever be normal?

Sigh...I'm going to talk to my GP who knows all of the details of this, and I'm going to talk to my OB and have a very very explicit conversation so that this never happens again. He needs to know that I am not the average patient and I am not putting up with this shit. This is my last chance at pregnancy and I'm not letting anyone screw this up.

Now I have to go curl up in a corner and weep. If I'm going to pretend to be strong when I speak to these fuckups, I have to be able to be honest about how pathetic I am really am somewhere, right?

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

My so-called coping skills

Really they are pretty crap, but as long as my Visa works, I can stop the anxiety from taking over by shopping my little butt off. Wednesday noon is the amnio and I need a nice calm feeling like Zen. And Zen is going to cost money, right?

So, for the kidlets, this year I got Mac a bunch of little things like clothes for his Webkinz animals, video games for the DS and the Wii, the previously mentioned Squawkers Macaw, some Transformers figures, and a red/orange Tri-clops toy. (It looks ridiculous, but apparently it is cool?)

Kaz got him an I-Dog Amped, and we are still looking for this chip that turns his DS into an MP3 player. Very very inexpensive, but damn useful if it means he can listen to music through headphones occasionally without me having to buy an actual MP3 player.

For Kaz, we got some Wii and DS accessories and games, and a couple of small items here and there, like a watch to replace his lost one, but the biggest gift? Lego Mindstorms; and yes it really does cost $300 just for the starter kit, but after much debate, we splurged for a bunch of reasons. For one thing, he has dreamed of this thing for over a year. He has been trying to save up his money in his bank account, and is almost there, but not quite. Kaz has worked his little tail off for studying for his SSAT exam, without complaint, and he has been very very good considering all the chaos going on what with the pregnancy and the school application and his own schoolwork. So he's getting it! I'm actually a little jealous, in fact, this really is the ultimate techy science nerd toy. I'm just glad I get to fiddle with it once in a while.

Mr.Cotta is a little harder to shop for. He is not a fan of getting anything for Christmas. He sort of feels like he has everything already. But, there are a few things he has agreed are okay to give him.

Like a goat. Or a cow.

I'm undecided. Take a gander through both those catalogues and let me know what you all think. Keep in mind that these are tax-deductible contributions and that I don't mind spending some money on this, because really this IS the government's money when you get a tax deduction. So what do you think is the best gift on this list? We certainly can't afford to set up our own micro-loan bank for 500K, but I can splurge for more than just one goat or a chicken for my beloved hubby, right?

I am debating buying some of the smaller animals or what have you for various hard to buy for friends and associates.

Funniest part of the exercise? Trying to explain this abstract concept to Mac. To my 7 year old, all gifts are wrapped and put under the tree. He is still convinced that if we give this to Dad, a goat will be delivered to our house to live here until we send it on a plane trip to Africa. And then I tried to tell him that we are going to try to buy two goats, a girl goat and a boy goat, so the family can have a herd of goats someday. His next concern?

"How do we make the goats fall in love and get married and have babies, Mom?"


Monday, December 17, 2007

My strained psyche

I cannot think through anything anymore. I am a ball of nerves, emotions, and a single minded mission to keep this baby alive.

In the last 24 hours, I have written approx. 6000 words on the subject of Bea's question, and all of what I wrote is unpublishable rambling inanity. I'm either totally manic, or the world's worst writer, bar none.

What it comes down to is that I don't like the question. It's too neat and too perfect, too full of absolutes. It puts me in a box, and doesn't allow me to be as nuanced as I like. Life is messy, at least my life is. I have already faced one kind of Genie when we ended Matthew's pregnancy and it was a hellish decision. And lots of women don't get that definitive diagnosis. They get the maybe choice, the mushy middle, the "we don't know" answer. Or they get told nothing and are left with a highly disabled child, lots of years off their life, and no choice in the matter. There are no guarantees, and yet, we are asked to make the risk of our lives, every time we chance a pregnancy. Some of us take years off of our lives, risking dollars and emotions, marriages, and our very psyche and never get a live baby at all.

I am more than a baby-making machine, but even having to say that assumes that it's a zero sum game for all women, and it isn't. Most women get to have a baby and be a parent and have a career without having to worry about whether they are defined as more than a broken uterus. I should get to do that too. Without having to cut any deals with Genies, with Gods, with government and insurance actuaries.

If someone tried to force me to choose? Really force me---I would die to save this pregnancy. Without hesitating. But it's a stupid thing for me to say, because if I die, the baby dies.

And this is where the rest of the post goes off the rails into Teh Crazee. So I'll save you 6000 words of blather. Have a beer instead.

Why am I going off the rails? Right now, I'm just not positive that Dinkypie is alive in there anymore. I think I just may have to buy that g#%^$%m home ultrasound machine. I thought about a doppler, but if I can't find the heartbeat, I'll go insane and run right over to the hospital and become hysterical on them until they can find it. Not such a great I don't own one. Instead I've decided to become hysterical all on my own without spending any cash up front.

I can only assume that I am flashing back to my last pregnancy. I'm 15 weeks 1 day today, and Georgia died at 15 weeks or so, but it wasn't discovered until 16 weeks. So naturally, I'm a little brain fucked.

Of course, I may just be feeling a little snowed in.
I went to bed panicking last night after seeing the car so heavily buried in snow, and realizing that some horrible person had STOLEN our good shovels. They left us with one crappy broken one. WTF?

In Canada, that is the equivalent of declaring war. It is absolutely never ever ever done. It's just wrong. Like stealing water in a desert. And in downtown TO, snow's a real problem anyway since we have no where to put the snow with our tiny narrow lots, and back laneways, and the fact that we have no ditches, no strip of grass between sidewalks, and for us, no garage. And unlike other municipalities like Ottawa or Montreal, our city does not take away the snow in dump trucks and put it on fields or in rivers. Instead they just pile it on sidewalks and hope no one sees it. Rather inane when it piles 6 feet high....

My husband took the boys in to school by subway, I am screwed for getting groceries, and Christmas shopping, and going into see my Doctor and doing every other damn thing I needed to do today. And for various reasons, like my amnio Wednesday, and tomorrows hair appointment, today is the last full day I have to do anything substantial like shop.

And do you think my bloody husband and sons actually shovelled anything necessary yesterday? Oh no..........THAT would be sensible. Instead they shovelled the front walk and steps. A place only the postman ever goes. And no other soul on earth. We go out the back to our car parked in the laneway, or we walk down the laneway, to the main road. The front door is basically decoration. Useless and now fully shovelled, using the shovels of neighbours who kindly loaned us theirs. Someday someone has to explain the point of having male children and being married to a male if they don't actually do what they are supposed to, namely, kill vermin, shovel snow, and protect their pregnant wives and mothers.

I have never felt so vulnerable and trapped in my life. I hate this. I want to have another full-blown tantrum. It won't help the situation, but it might make me feel better.

(I just got an email from him, and it took 45 minutes to get a train, hellllooooo, I told him so!!!! Always always always take the car in this eyes have rolled so far back in my head I am now looking out the back of my neck! Worse, Kaz is going to be very very late for his bus to go on a school trip to see a play downtown. This whole thing is a utter complete disaster.)

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Who Am I?

I'm doing a bit of double take right now, since I noticed another Aurelia is in the blogosphere. Reality is that anyone can use a pseudonym but I have to admit, with this one I never thought I'd find another. The other Aurelia appears to be a mommyblogger but she doesn't have quite the same kind of history I do. Oh, who am I kidding---no one on earth has a history as bizarre as mine! I am such a freak....I may have to start signing off as Aurelia Cotta again to avoid confusion. Hmmm...

Anyway, if you see someone who signs off as Aurelia on comments, double check if it's me. I don't mind being blamed for whatever I do, but I don't want to be blamed or credited for things someone ELSE does, hehe, unless it's really awesome and which case, assume it's definitely me, don't bother to check.

Also, I'm working on a post for tomorrow all about Bea's questions and some of the comments and answers she's had. I had a really really really long comment about it today and then figured I was hogging the comments so shortened it, but it's damn hard to answer it well. I think it's too hard for one blogger or even a few. Go over and see what I mean. If you've ever been infertile, had a loss, had a child, lost a child, or hell, just contemplated the meaning of life, you'll be intrigued.

Friday, December 14, 2007

A day for exclamations!

Updated: I had a confusing typo now italicized below, whoopsie...all fixed, never mind.

So first piece of good news, see my previous post. (Go on, scroll down and click over to say congrats...I'll wait until you click back.)

And the second piece of good news? I had my 14 week anatomy scan today, and it went very very well!!!

(For those of you wondering, traditionally the full anatomy scan is done at 18-20 weeks, but the clarity of ultrasound machines is so advanced these days that it is possible to see most of the organs and placenta and check the function at 14 weeks, especially if they use transvaginal for the test. A really big reassurance for high-risk women like me, or any woman who has had a bad first trimester screen result and has to wait for amnio & results.)

We got a perfect clear result for the stomach, liver, kidneys, bladder, spine, femur bone measurement, feet, long bones of the hands, lungs, heart, eyes, nasal bone, facial and skull measurements, eyes, ears, and brain (good for 14.5 weeks, needs to be rechecked later since it is still developing).

The Doctor was able to do a doppler check on the placenta and umbilical cord, and all of my uterine areteries. And they were absolutely PERFECT!!! Weeeeeeeee! My uterine arterial pulsatility index was nice and low, just like it should be. And all the blood was flowing perfectly, no sign of clotting or constricted arteries.

We also got a pretty clear view of a cute little butt, and yes, the genitalia. The Doctor refused to say definitely, since things can be rather swelled up and indistinct at this point, but Mr. Cotta decided it was a boy! Yeah, Dinkypie is sooooo going to hate his nickname if this is true. We won't know for sure until the amnio result. I have kind of mixed feelings about this, btw. Girls are more likely than boys to survive until birth, since they have double XX chromosomes, sort of like a built in backup system, like the Klingons. But my body seems to do better job of keeping male fetuses alive and offing the female ones, so maybe it's safer for me to gestate boys, not girls? I kind of hate thinking of it this way. Sigh.....of course, this also leads to me wondering what would've happened if I'd taken heparin and baby aspirin while I was pregnant with Georgia. Would I have a 3 year old right now? Something I'll never know for sure. But, hey, on the bright side, I know how to raise boys and I have lots of boy clothes and enough toys to create my own construction site. So, Mr.Cotta can't complain that we'll be spending money on girl stuff, right? On the other hand, I do like shopping....what the hell, maybe I'll buy some new stuff anyway.

So toodles, I'm feeling kind of weird right now, like hopeful, which IS very very odd for me. An emotion I'm not used to. Not quite sure what to do with it. I'm sure I'll be back to insane and paranoid next week, just like usual, hehe. Wednesday is my amniocentesis. I'm having it done by my OB at my women's hospital, just because they can and I'm feeling comfortable with that, and best of all I won't have to miss the boys concert! Yayyyyy. And that also means that I can expect to get the results of the Fish test by Friday.

Thursday, December 13, 2007


Updated below!

I think that Beruriah has gone into labour finally. She emailed me to say that her contractions were painful and she was off tot he hospital. Now, she's been back and forth to L&D so often that it might be another false alarm, but I think Wombwatch 2007 may be over!

I've been madly refreshing her blog....I know she is with someone who has access to the net. Ooooooo, I hope we get an update soon. So exciting!!!

Yep, we have good news folks! Go visit...

A few answers

In the previous post, I has asked if anyone knew how the Papp-A numbers might affect my placenta. And I've discovered that when in doubt you should definitely ask the internet!

Oh and to those of you on the planet who think that prenatal diagnosis numbers are all about ending a pregnancy, read on. It's also predicting IUGR, or FGR (pick your term, same thing) and miscarriages, and stillbirths, and preeclampsia. And if you can predict those things at twelve weeks, then maybe you can change drug treatments or get monitored differently, or save a baby that otherwise might not have made it.

About my numbers, one doctor told me it was fine....and technically he's right, since it is, sort of, but I get pretty nervous about these things, so I like more exact numbers. The genetics counselor said it was a bit low, but she really only deals with genetics & chromosomes and not bad placentas on healthy babies so much, so she really wasn't able to tell me much.

So, Rachel sent me a link to an article in a comment and explained that in this ratio 1 is the mean, and so .66 is low. Fortunately, not very low, just slightly. (Sometimes I've seen 0 be the mean, in other non-science areas so this is clearer! Also, the way they calculate the Mom number and the reason they use it instead of raw numbers is because they take into account maternal weight, so on the raw numbers (IU/litres) for my last post, they only apply to women who are around 130-135 pounds. Circulating blood hormone levels look different on small vs. larger women.) Yes, I'm skinny, but I'm pretty flabby and short; I wonder if height or muscle vs. fat ratio affects it? Hmmmmm....

Compared to Georgia, in 2004 who had a Papp-A of .50 MoMs, .66 MoMs this time around doesn't seem so much better, but apparently it is. "Women with PAPP-A 0.50 MoM also had significantly higher rates of FGR (RR = 3.30) and spontaneous miscarriage (RR = 3.78)." So, she was definitely in the low range potential for miscarriage. And this baby isn't.

The worst results though are reserved for those who fall into the bottom 5%. And that doesn't even start until .415, and the woman at genetics said they don't see serious problems until it goes as low as .30, so I tend to think---maybe I can get away with this. And as Wabi has reminded me, it's only a possibility of miscarriage, my risk has gone up slightly, but that's not for sure, and full 14 week anatomical scan we are having tomorrow morning will tell me a lot more about my placenta and the blood flow to it.

I'm definitely going to keep injecting the heparin though, and taking the progesterone and baby aspirin. I didn't do it last time, and now I now I have some numbers to show it's helping. Proof enough for me.

They'll have to pry that needle out of my cold dead hand to stop me from shooting up.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Need a little help figuring this out!

So we have more good news and some puzzling news, and I'm hoping some of my science buddies can give me a hand?

After I had the nuchal test, I went down for the blood test to the lab, and they sent it off. I had some results pretty quick, but they only print out the results for Down's on the printout and I also wanted the risks for Trisomy 18 & 13 and well any numbers they can get me, right?

Now realistically, the nuchal test is the only thing that matters when we discuss the health or chromosomes of the baby. It's the biggie. The blood tests, the Papp-A, the free beta hcg, the inhibin A, all the rest of them, only point to placental health, which can be an indicator of fetal problems but not a guarantee one way or the other. This is why most of the blood screening tests have such a high false positive rate btw, because while it is possible to have a damaged placenta and a healthy baby with no anomalies, it's almost completely impossible to have a totally healthy placenta and a baby who has serious birth defects. (And I'm not excluding situations like molar pregnancies, where you have a placenta that works and no baby at all, just a sac, really. The placentas work for a while, but structurally they are still bad, which is why they fail eventually.)

Unfortunately, my history has gone for almost every variation. Healthy kids - my boys, who had iffy placentas, but by some random chance, lived. Matthew, who was chromosomally damaged, and had a bad placenta, and died. Georgia and Mira, who were chromosomally perfect, no birth defects, no problems, but whose placentas were so very damaged that they had absolutely no hope of ever making it, and died in utero.

So now, I'm staring at the damn numbers and the genetics people have told me they are great for chromosomes, and I'm thinking, hump over, and now the next hump, what about my placenta? So if any of you can tell me or give me links to charts or figure out what these numbers mean for my placental health or risk of miscarriage or IUGR, or well any old outcome, I'd be so grateful, I'd have your baby!!! Whoops, scratch that, not my best skill----errrr, I'll give you lots of hugs and blogkisses!!!!!

Or something really really neat!!!!

And yes I'm supposed to meet with Dr.Placenta next week some time but that's freakin' NEXT WEEK. I can't wait that long.

So at 12 weeks, 1 day DinkyPie's numbers were:

CRL - 65 mm
NT - 1.3 mm
BPD - 19mm

Free beta hcg was 21.3 iu/l (international units per litre) leading to a risk factor they call Multiple of the Median or MoM of 0.53.

PAPP-A was 1.98 iu/l leading to a risk factor of .66 MoM.

(Yes, the ratio is called MoM, literally what is the risk we will or won't get to be a Mom. Why do I just freakin' KNOW a non-Stirrup Queen decided to use that acronym for this criteria? *eyeroll*)

If an average 39 year old woman had these numbers she'd have a risk of Down's that is 1 in 5290, and a risk of Trisomy 18 or 13 of 1 in 73,500. Since I previously had a child with Trisomy 18, my risk goes up by 0.75% and slightly changes these odds, but they are still pretty great.

I'm getting an amnio anyway, since 1 in 73,000 isn't much comfort if you're the one, and well, I was the one. I have this nightmare that something will show up on an anatomy scan, something innocuous like a choroid plexus cyst, like Mac had, and I'll be terrified unless I know the chromosomes are perfect. Frankly, these days I wonder if a cyst like that is a sign of brilliance, or artistic ability since Mac is so smart and so amazing at drawing. Ehh, who knows?

So does anyone know if that PAPP-A level is low or high, or good or bad in terms of pregnancy outcomes? Or have access to charts or scientific articles with the tables attached? Links, please?

Even Wikipedia is blank on this one. Totally blank, useless, crazy making..... yes if any wikipedians are out there, feel free to fix that!!

I'm going to go eat some pickles now. Ta-ta.

Monday, December 10, 2007

Balancing the good and the bad

Seven days since my last ultrasound, and I'm getting squidgey again. Last night I was consumed with DBTs (dead baby thoughts) and simply could not deal with the baby not moving on my command. I suddenly decided that I didn't feel pregnant anymore, and so I tried laying down and drinking loads of juice. Which didn't really work, because I kept getting up again and again and trying to figure out why the baby wasn't moving like it had last week one night.

Well, maybe because I'm only 14 weeks, and I kept getting up and moving, and I need to realize that it's pretty small and won't do everything I want it to?

Yaaaa, try telling yourself that at 1:00 am when you've woken up in a cold sweat convinced that it's all over.

Anyway, Dinkypie finally decided to get off his/her butt and move a little while I was driving the boys to school this morning. A distinct, non-gas-related, non-intestinal fluttering kicking. Very very reassuring. I know some first and second timers would never be able to tell the difference, but after this many pregnancies, I can. I would've called for an ultrasound this morning and they would've fit me in no problem, but Mr. Cotta is away on a business trip and could not be there until Wednesday, and I can't bear to make the phone call to him with bad news and then spend the next few days alone with the boys.

Last night my mind kept leaping ahead to scenarios like How do we tell everyone? (answer: by email) What happens at Christmas? If the baby dies just before Christmas do we still host Christmas dinner? How? I guess Santa still comes, but it would make it a really horrible Christmas for the kids if something bad happened right now. And as Taff pointed out in the comments, mothering the living kids I have already has to be a priority. I've always practiced this by the way, to the point that I refused to get a D&C after Georgia died for 2 days, until the day after Mac's first day of junior kindergarten. I knew it was the most important day of his little life and I wasn't going to miss it for a baby that was already dead. To save a baby that had a chance, he would've had to be happy with only Dad there, but I wasn't going to do that for one that had passed on, so I shut up and smiled like a Stepford wife and did what had to be done.

(Yes, more scattered uneven writing, deal with it people, I'm trying here)

I'm going to have to miss the boys Christmas---oooops Winter Seasonal---concert and the play this year because I'll be on bedrest after the amniocentesis, and I'm feeling very sad. The amnio can only be done that day due to holiday scheduling issues, and meanwhile this will be the very first concert I've ever ever missed. Oh well, this is why camcorders were invented, right?

Sooooo new camcorders are good news, and I know the baby moved which is good news! And my curtains look great, and our house looks amazing, which is good news! (Trying to avoid thinking anything negative...) Our Christmas lights look nice, and I've put out some decorations which look great.

I'm feeling very hungry, which is a good sign of pregnancy, right? More good news?

Sunday, December 09, 2007

Thank you

Thank you, to each and everyone of you who commented. I'm on my meds right now, and I think from now on I'm going to try and post only when I'm on them. A couple of you pointed out that my posts have been harder to read since I've been pregnant, and you are right. So writing in the morning when I'm well slept and on meds can't hurt and it just might make me a little more organized. (I've been posting late at night, when I should be sleeping, not a good idea.)

There are a couple of issues that may not allow me to take my meds as often as I want. Like the effect on my sleep, and my appetite, both critical areas in pregnancy. I may end up taking some 4 hour medications most days and trying to cram in as much as I can into those 4 hours, like errands, and writing emails, or making phone calls to anyone important. Then I can just eat more the rest of the day. Other days, I'll need an all day time release and I'll just have to eat even if I'm not hungry.

One other issue is the physical effect on my body, as mentioned in the comments, and some of you might worry about my heart. I have had an SVT show up in pregnancy before, but it was mild and only showed up at the end. I've had several heart tests done before both in pregnancy and post pregnancy, specifically, 72 hour holter monitors, (a continuously done ekg), echocardiograms, stress tests with echocardiograms and contrast studies, blood tests, etc. You name it, I've had it. Normally my blood pressure is very very low, and even on the dexedrine has only gone slightly higher to a level most people would consider normal. It's only in the final trimester of pregnancy that it has ever been too high, and it will be monitored. There are lots of drugs that can treat this condition by the way, many safe in pregnancy, so I do have a solution if needed.

At some point, I won't be able to take any stimulants due to the effect on my BP, but that's a long way off, so I'm thinking I need to relax, and my cardiologist can let me know if it's a problem. I have an appointment with him coming up, but damned if I can find my calender...another task for today.

I do worry about the physical consequences to me of being off them, but I don't want anyone to think that the average unfocused symptoms of ADD aren't an issue. They just aren't ones that anyone ever thinks of. I'm hiring the cleaning lady to come in more often, and getting my organizer back, so that may calm my brain down a bit more.

You've helped me to believe that I need to be on the meds, but that wasn't the only factor. I went over to someone's house last night, the couple who were over at Thanksgiving, and not only was I off my meds, but I was the only sober person in a room full of drinkers. I was too loud and obnoxious and unable to hold back on my opinions AT ALL. And when the husband in question started drunkly raving on about how his exercise club had let some fat woman join and she had the nerve to use the leg lift machine and not get up off it as fast as he wanted, I lost it. Especially when he started sneeringly imitating her huffing and puffing and how she was barely lifting any weights at all.

I told him off, really really thoroughly. He kept protesting that it was because she hadn't followed proper etiquette in using the machine and letting him do his sets on it first, and I pointed out that the emphasis when he spoke was on the word fat, and he had not even mentioned in passing her etiquette until I challenged him. I pointed out that people like him were the exact reason that most people don't want to join exercise clubs and go, and that it was her first time working out and she was with a trainer, and it probably took her a hell of a lot of bravery to go there and even try, and he could've just skipped the machine and shown some compassion and friendliness. It was sooo satisfying to tell him off. I have to admit, I felt like I was defending every blog friend who has ever told me they have a weight problem and don't feel welcome at exercise clubs.

Only problem? I was too loud and too obnoxious and I could've just rolled my eyes and said it quietly, and maybe more gently so Mr.Cotta and the man's wife didn't feel so uncomfortable and upset. The man was drunk and stupid, and needed to be ignored, and I kind of upped the ante too much, waaaayyy too much. Anyway, on the way home, I decided to take my meds whenever I see this couple from now on. There are several people in my life just like that, and I need to be able to ignore them and keep my cool instead of rising to the bait.

Anyway, I need to get dressed and get myself together now. Maybe find and fill out my calender, wooo-hoooo!

Saturday, December 08, 2007

The reluctant post

This post is the longest one I've ever posted, and it's taken me weeks to write it. So go to the bathroom, and then get a snack, THEN read it, please.

Two bad things happened day before yesterday, first, I left a comment on someone's blog and accidentally put in their husband's real name instead of his pseudonym, and they deleted the comment of course, and I understood completely. I'm still mortified I made such a mistake. I'd be upset if this happened to me on my blog. Then, second thing, I had an online chat with someone and said something incredibly rude and inappropriate. Both times my intent was good, I was trying to communicate my thoughts, but my implementation was terrible.

I wasn't going to blog about this subject at all, but I can't stand people thinking I'm trying to hurt them, so I have to explain what's going on. I'd rather be humiliated and judged, even hated than be thought of as unkind to people I care about.

The judging by the way, will not be outwardly, but quietly, there will be fewer clicks, there will be fewer subscribers, there will be a general sort of----lack of respect that will follow. Like, hey, "we don't think Aurelia really belongs in the club now", you know, The Club of Women who will Make ANY sacrifice, even their sanity, to have a Healthy Live Baby. Or maybe there will even be a few people who might think I belong in the group called, Women who did something suspect, something WE would never ever do, and that's why she has dead babies.

I get the judgment, because when it comes to infertility and loss, there MUST have been something I did wrong, and if I was just a little more perfect, my babies would've been alive, right? All throughout my life, I have blamed myself quite thoroughly for all that bad things that have happened to me, something a lot of women do to themselves, I think. I'm trying not to do that anymore, it's not helpful to me, I know. But I can't control what you think, and I don't want to beg you all to like me, something I know I could do in a flash.

Sooooo, right here, right now, I'm giving you permission to walk away, no issues. If you don't understand what I'm about to write, or you don't get it, feel free to ask questions, wonder out loud, or even link to me and call me a fucking ungrateful bitch. (Okay, I will shrink in internal agony if you do that, but you still can do it.)

And no I'm not fishing for love and compliments and comments. I swear.

Breathe deep.....

A couple of weeks ago at Motherisk, I had a two hour meeting in person with a couple of experts on medications in pregnancy, and what they do and what they mean, and what all the medications I have taken will mean for this pregnancy.

Including Adderall and Dexedrine.

For my ADD.

You know, that imaginary disease du jour, one that causes me a lot of problems, like car accidents, and falling and breaking bones, and choking on food, and tripping, and getting lost, and mouthing off to people I like in completely inappropriate ways, and hey best of all? Mind-boggling, overwhelming, crippling, anxiety as I watch myself publicly fucking up every moment of my life, and know I am unable to stop myself.

Life was simpler all those years ago before diagnosis, when I thought I was stupid, or just a bad person. (Not happier, but simpler.) I just wrote myself off, blamed my obviously poor character, and kept living. Finding out I could've been helped all those years ago, and that my life didn't have to be shit, produced an overwhelming grief reaction for so long. Sadness at knowing that I wasn't really stupid, that I didn't have to a failure for so many years----oh I wanted to die for a long time. The memories of so many humiliating moments, so many missed opportunities, things I wish I could erase from my brain.

Knowing it's a disease, a neurological disorder and that there is a really effective medication can be a gift when the world accepts the treatment and embraces your "bravery". You know, like they do with some diseases of the body? The public still avoids sick people like the plague, but at least no one tells them their disease is made up and calls them drug addicts. Mental illness, much like infertility, gets the short end of the stick. Over the years, awareness is getting a tiny bit better for both conditions.

But when it comes to treatment of mental conditions during pregnancy and infertility, it's the dark ages. We're all supposed to suck it up and cope.

Motherisk has done a lot of research over the years into antidepressants and pregnancy, and many of them are well studied and completely safe. (Go to the link for specifics, or call them directly), and as long as your doctor avoids the offensively out-of date and medically irrelevant FDA pregnancy categories from the US, most women who are depressed and need medication can get antidepressants.

But it doesn't work that way for ADD. Almost all the literature on stimulants relates to street drug users and people who used many different types of drugs mixed with alcohol, leading to the assumption that properly prescribed and dispensed ADD drugs were just as dangerous as the crap bought from a drug dealer mixed with drain cleaner and baking soda. It doesn't work that way because most people think ADD is no big deal and only an issue in the classroom, and they assume it can be left untreated in pregnant women. And so in 2003 and in 2004 I was told not to take it, because it would hurt the baby, and so I stopped the millisecond conception occurred.

And both times, my children died.

Since then, I have learned that almost everything I was ever told in the past by GPs and REs about the causes of pregnancy loss and infertility was medically inaccurate, poorly researched guesswork, a patchwork joke that proves no one gives a damn on this planet about women's health.

Motherisk isn't perfect, but it has better information than most sources. They have a worldwide consultation group on reproductive mental health with names listed here, of professionals all over the world who prescribe psychotropic medication for women in pregnancy. I have to admit, my eyebrows went up at the list, since I know some of my favorite bloggers go to hospitals where these doctors work.

This is the official stand of Motherisk on ADD drugs in pregnancy. My appointment was with the second doctor on the list of authors, we'll call him Dr.Two. In the article, I found it a bit offensive and disturbing that drug abusers were even mentioned, after all no-one discusses heroin addicts when a prescription for surgical morphine is written, sigh....but whatever, I've come to expect it. And at least the article mentions that there are too many confounding factors like alcohol use and dosage issues to include those drug abuse studies with any credibility.

The key for a good study is to find large groups of women who were perfectly healthy for all intents and took stimulants during pregnancy for whatever reason. Something unlikely to ever happen in an ethical world, right? Nope, surprise! In the 1950s, 60's and 70's it was quite common to prescribe dexadrine and dextroamphetamines to average pregnant women, so they wouldn't get FAT while having babies. Can you freakin' IMAGINE?!?! (If anyone is surprised by women having body issues, they just need to look to our history....fuck, the things the medical profession does to women....) They quote studies of 10,000 women total, but Dr.Two told me there were hundreds of thousands of women who took these medications, and never had malformations or a higher rate of miscarriage then the rest of the population. Only problem is that both the group on the drug and the control group drank plenty of martinis and smoked cigarettes, and the stats were not quite as well gathered as they are now. Many women had early miscarriages and never knew since there were no home pregnancy tests back then. They just assumed their period was late and never got any medical attention.

So Dr.Two was concerned that some of these women could've had early miscarriages but no one attributed them to the drug. We then had quite a lively discussion about how he was making assumptions he couldn't prove, and of course, I wanted to know how the women would've taken the drug before even going to the doctor and getting a scrip. See, back then, no one showed up at the OB's office for their first appointment until 3 months, and so unless they kept a few in their cupboard, they would not have had any to take. Hell, even if they did take some, anyone further along than 8-9 weeks pretty much needed a D&C after a miscarriage, since misoprostol didn't exist, and of course there would've been a record of what happened then, and it would've been counted.

We talked for about two hours, and discussed every symptom, every implication, every OCD, hyperfocused obsessed issue I could bring up. There is very little evidence on ritalin, except one study on narcoleptics (no malformations, no risk of problems) and no evidence on Strattera at all. (It's not a stimulant, but something chemically very different, so I'm not taking that at all.) Wellbutrin might be safe, but I don't like the study they did, and clonidine has the same issue. Besides Wellbutrin and clonidine don't work for ADD very well. Why bother to take something ineffective? Pointless....

So I have been on and off of my meds for the past 13.5 weeks. Various Doctors have lectured me, my husband has told me just to go off it and we'll cope, and I have been terrified to tell any of my friends I've even taken one pill. Somedays I take a 4 hour pill and other days I took an all day time release, but I'm trying not to take those too often, mostly because of guilt.

Except we're not coping and my family is falling apart, and I'm afraid to talk to my friends in real life for fear I'll say something wrong and they'll hate me. And yes, I'm afraid to comment or chat online when I'm off my meds. I can get the cleaning lady to come in more often, and we're hiring someone to help put up christmas lights, but no-one can replace me as a mother, and I really do a dramatically better job at momming when I'm on my meds. I'm stressed and anxious and I have no freakin' idea how I'm going to make it through another 6 months, never mind adding breastfeeding time.

You may wonder how I made it through my pregnancies with Kaz and Mac and Matthew? Pretty simple....I assumed I was simply insane due to hormones and probably even a bad mother. I spent loads of time in therapy trying to cope, all of it useless. I went through some postpartum depression after Kaz was born, mostly due to feeling helpless in the face of the overwhelming responsibility I felt.

In the end, I don't know what to do. I can't cope without the meds, and they are medically safe if I go by Motherisk's assessment.

But my husband will soon lose his mind or divorce me, my children will have been late for school every damn day this year, and I will have enough bloody broken bones to start an anatomy museum if I don't get myself together.

If nothing else though, I'm definitely going to stop comparing myself to those Fifties housefraus. Poor really did suck back then. I have officially learned why Martha Stewart is an unattainable goal.

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

I'm a mess

I'm tired, confused, disorganized, and feeling blecch.

I have been feeling very very weird lately. My uterus has been doing this odd thing where it feels kind of like it's tightening, almost like Braxton-Hicks, except that it's too early for that at 13 weeks. It's not painful, at all, and it's not making me breathless or anything dramatic, it's just a bit noticeable.

My doc said it was okay as long as I keep taking my progesterone and feel no pain. So I relaxed, until I started to to get little stabbing pains sort of in my bladder/uterus area. Kind of freaky...they weren't cramps either, but they weren't my imagination. I thought I had another UTI, but nooo instead I get a prize, a yeast infection not just in the regular area, but as a UTI as well.

Which makes it a challenge to treat. Cause it's hard to get monistat inside your bladder to cure the yeast in it. Anyway, I'm on diflucan, a small dose, just enough to cure it. And thank God for Motherisk, who were able to tell me it was safe to take. Geez they kick ass....

Now if I could just keep the rest of my life together. I'm not sure I can handle Christmas preparations this year. Can we delay it a little while, please???? Pretty please??? Yawwnnn

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

Desperate for the damn writers strike to be over

So it looks like I'll have to go find some friends who still work in the film industry. I can't stand not knowing what happens to Lynette's family on Desperate Housewives, and until the writers strike is over and Marc Cherry releases the next episode, we're in suspense. At the end of the tornado episode last Sunday, we saw that Wisteria Lane was a wreck, & the entire McCluskey house was destroyed, and Tom her husband, and all of her kids, along with Ida, had been in the basement, leading to the conclusion that they were all killed.

But, supposedly only one husband and one friend were killed, at least according to the spoiler website cache I found. Gabby's new husband, the mayor, who got impaled on a fence post, and Ida, who gets crushed.

The thing is, I don't think that they could kill 5 kids and another husband without any warning, and frankly it ends the entire Lynette story, since she obviously is all out of storyline. (She's already been a drug addict, had mother issues, lost two careers, had cancer, almost had 2 affairs, and caused multiple deaths of strangers, there isn't much else....) My husband calls any and all dead or at risk children emotional p0rn and refuses to watch TV shows like this, and quite often I skip them too. But I have to admit, I wasn't prepared for it, I hadn't seen the promos. Still, it bothered me less than usual and do you know why? Because as Lynette ran to the destroyed house yelling for her family, it just didn't ring true.

When you realize your children are dead, and you scream, it sounds different than that.

I wish I didn't know what I know.

Monday, December 03, 2007

- I have to do something with this list in the previous post, because I know it's great to have a list somewhere for someone who is searching and also simply for the fact that it doesn't really exist anywhere else.

So if I get ambitious I'll consolidate it into one post and link it on my sidebar. Of course considering how tired I am, that may be a fantasy.

- Pssst, by the way, Megan is pregnant again, she comments on my blog and on a few of yours, but doesn't have a blog of her own. On that last post, she told me in the comments! Congratulations Megan! We have to go out for a ginger ale to celebrate hon! I'd offer to buy you a beer, but you know how it is, eh?

- In other news, I am so happy that NaBloPo fuckin' Mo is over I CANNOT tell you. I cannot read this many people posting and such great stuff. And comment? I just can't think up enough great stuff to say back. I may be just clicking all as read like Maggie suggested and starting fresh. Trouble is, I'm sure I've missed some major life events for some people now. Shit. I'm sorry.

- I finally went to Costco, and stocked up the freezer for the next millenium or the next miscarriage, which ever comes first. And bought Mac a Squawkers Macaw electronic parrot. Totally goddamn annoying, I put it in a darkened closet downstairs and it's still talking. A feature of this toy is that it repeats everything it hears. So far, it says "Shut up you stupid toy" and "Fuck me, how do I turn this thing off". I'm thinking I need to return it, or take a valium.

- I'm so impressed that Elizabeth Edwards commented on Tash's blog. And very very awesome list on that post. I love the line about the DeadBabyMama cocktail party. I want to hold one of those....I'm thinking some T.O. bloggers need to get together and have another sex toy shopfest, or just the cocktails?

- Today, I went to the Doctor alone, and since my appointment got switched, Mr.Cotta couldn't come. Baby has a heartbeat...and we have passed twelve weeks, now at 13 weeks. My doctor is nice, but boy he had a strange idea. He actually suggested exercising, with a personal trainer, someone he supervises directly who will come to my house. He is worried that with the osteoporosis I'll get worse because I'm not "exercising like normally", but sitting around since I am afraid to move. I still do a lot, if not hauling laundry and hockey bags anymore, I still put laundry away and tie skates, but who's kidding who here?

I wasn't sure how to break it to him that the only formal exercise I prefer to engage in is lifting a glass of wine to my lips. I switched to OJ recently but, really lifting a glass is just like lifting weights, isn't it?

Isn't it?

Anyway, I think I looked at him like he had an arm sticking out of his forehead, I was so shocked, but he assured me that he does this with all his high risk patients, even the ones on bed rest, can do some stuff lying down so they avoid losing too much muscle and bone mass. Hmmm, we'll see. The avoiding the gym part appeals to me. I don't like any of those tight fitting clothes they all wear, and most gyms seems to reek of competitive sports and narcissism. Or maybe it's just the horrid pickup lines I get. Whatever, I refuse to sweat in public. It's gauche. And it's nothing to do with sexism, I think it's terribly rude when anyone does it, male or female. If you wouldn't pee in public, or pick your nose, why would you willingly allow any bodily fluid loss to be witnessed by anyone other than your spouse or a licensed medical professional? the privacy of a labour & delivery room, or your own home gym, sure, but running around on the street half-naked, soaking wet and ugly?

I mean really, all this body worship sort of reminds of the way evangelicals worship JAY-SUUUS, or the way tabloids worship the Britney trainwreck, or the way economists worship the "wisdom" of the stock market, all of which also make me feel uncomfortable. We can exercise for fun & fitness, or bike or whatever, normal stuff doesn't bother me, it's more the extreme esthetic of running snobbery or cycling until every last ounce of fat is gone, and so is every last ounce of kindness. Walking into those gyms, you know you aren't welcome unless you are already fit; no fat people allowed, and no flabby people allowed. Hell, no one allowed in who hasn't already drank the Kool-Aid.

Anyway, I know it will suck, but I'm willing to meet with the guy once. I'm not really sure where he thinks we could do this. There is no place in my house with enough floor space to do anything at all. Oh shit, and then I'd have to clean up just to have him come over.

Sigh...I'm already tired thinking of this. Time for bed.

Saturday, December 01, 2007

Prepare for the worst, hope for the best

So I have a post about Motherisk in my drafts that has been rewritten about 12 times, but I can't quite get myself to hit publish. I'm scared; just a big ass chicken shit even though I pretend to be a big ass brave chick, no shit to be seen.

So today I'm going to tell you all about my way of handling stress instead. You know all that one day at a time, prepare for the worst, hope for the best, zen, magical thinking be damned, sheer force of will, trust in fate/God/Doctors/the universe, cliche-o-rama I discuss? Chortle, yes I did make a joke about trust, har har.

Not even sure if it all works, but in the absence of a written guarantee I will continue to prepare for the worst and hope for the best and part of that is packing a bag.

A hospital bag.

I know, the rules of magical thinking say that we're only supposed to pack a bag for the hospital when we are about to deliver a live baby. That happy ritual is reserved for the normals, not the dead baby ladies like me.

And the result of that kind of thinking is that when we go into labour prematurely, or we get suddenly admitted to hospital, or we notice we are bleeding profusely, or we get a terrible ultrasound report, we are stuck depending on the kindness of others and the presence of mind of our spouses. And ladies, I have rarely if ever experienced kindness from others while a baby dies, and my husband? Poor darling has an absence of mind while grief stricken; I can hardly blame him. As a result, I have ended up during past hospital stays with no contact lens solution, a full makeup bag, some pantyhose, a floor length slip, and pretty much absolutely nothing I actually need like always pads, spare clothes, camera, emergency list of numbers, deodorant.

I'm 12.5 weeks, and at this point, no matter how this baby comes out in the next 27.5 weeks, dead or alive, there will be a hospital involved and I will be a patient in it. So I'm packing a bag, now. It will stay in the house, unless we go to the Doctor, or I get really really paranoid, and then I'll keep it in the car. My husband and close friends will know where it is, (the front hall) so if I don't have it in an emergency, they can come get it.

I've spoken to various relatives and close friends and warned them they are expected to help out if we suddenly call and need them to stay evenings or overnight with the kids in an emergency. I've warned the kids teachers and principal a while back that there might be an emergency phone call and I expect them to step up to the plate and take care of my kids when they burst into tears in class or worry about their mom or the baby.

I need to get our routines written out and posted on the fridge, and some more emergency meals in the freezer, and a hell of lot more house preparedness done. Time for a Costco trip, and I need to get the rest of my Christmas shopping done. I can't be worrying about groceries and laundry during any potential crisis. I just don't have enough ram to grieve and make lunches.

So far the bag has in it:
travel sizes of:
face moisturizer
body moisturizer
lip balm
cetaphil face and body wash
contact lens solution and case
(Toiletries won't save a baby, but they definitely make me feel less skeevy in a dry, less ventilated hospital.)

In my purse, I always carry my health card, my hospital card, a camera, a cell phone, most of my phone numbers, and a list of medications I'm on, if not the actual meds. I need to photocopy the paper stuff in case my purse doesn't come with me, and do up a one page medical history (she thinks she has a one page medical history - hardy har har) in case an ambulance takes me to some other stupid hospital. (If we go to any other hospital besides the two downtown ones, the baby will die, so I may pack a taser as well in case I need to force an ambulance to take me to the right hospital that can save this pregnancy, emergency room status be damned, momma's gonna taser anyone who tries to give dinkypie substandard medical care.)

Things still to put in the hospital bag:
2 pillows - covered in waterproof, but not plasticky cover (blood and icky stuff is hard to wash out, and the pillows at hospitals ALWAYS suck)
slippers (cold germy floors)
shower shoes (MSRA, athlete's foot, etc....blech-need I say more?)
bathrobe (it can get cold in there, and the flimsy robes aren't enough)
extra underwear (do I have to explain this?)
always pads - ultra days with wings and ultra overnight with wings (I am not riding the bulky cheap cotton pony just because of goddamn budget cuts, I want dryweave dammit!)
eyemask (in case the curtains aren't quite room darkening)
spare baggy shirt, bra, and pants (maternity maybe, definitely not skinny-style, I'll still be swollen from the extra IV fluids I always seem to be gifted with)
travel size containers of shampoo, conditioner, & leave-in spray
spare glasses and set of contacts
A couple of good books, non-pregnancy related for distraction
A couple of books about pregnancy after loss and labour after loss
Web-enabled phone, hopefully with built in MP3 player, (so I can email and blog and listen to music)
sitz bath (for the hemorrhoids my peeps, the piley bastards are already lurking)
plastic pitcher for water and cups
protein bars, granola bars, restaurant to go menu (hospital food sucks in EVERY country)
cash for take out food, magazines, and to order phone for room and cable for TV
paper and pencil/pen (just in case I can't talk after intubation again)
updated Ontario power of attorney for personal care (so I don't get left to to mercy of some junior resident's ethics practicum)
phone number of medical litigation firm (in case I get the shitty anesthesiologist again, of course, in that case, I'll be dead, and unable to make that phone call, soooo never mind)
On second thought, make list of Docs and nurses who do not have consent to treat me under any circumstances, then deliver said list to hospital lawyers and CEO and my OB. That will truly relax me.

As time goes on, and weeks pass, I'll add a set of quick dry clay for recording hand and feet impressions for newborns (or stillborns as the case may be), a nice blanket to wrap a very very tiny baby in, a set of preemie clothes, and eventually a newborn size outfit. At 12.5 weeks, Dinkypie is too small to dress, but eventually it will be different, and I need to be prepared. I'm also going to pack a few breastfeeding books, and a few baby care items, just in case hope wins out over despair. Cause hey, you never know, I just may get an actual live baby out of this adventure!

Sooooo, any other ideas on what I should pack?

What did you all need in the hospital? What do you wish you had? What do you regret bringing?

Wednesday, November 28, 2007


I won't hold you in suspense. My nuchal test went just fine this morning. At 12 weeks, 2 days, we are measuring perfectly.

CRL: 65 mm
BPD: 19mm
NT: 1.3 mm

The maximum they like to see at this crown rump length and gestational age is 2.7 mm, at least according to my sneak peeking at the giant book filled with tables of measurements in the genetics department. I looked up my age, gestation, etc. etc. and then took out my camera phone and started snapping away at all the pertinent numbers. (Had to remember them somehow, right?)

The blood tests are coming, but at this point, they are less relevant than the nuchal. Truthfully, the PAPP-A and the beta hcg tell you a lot more about the placenta's condition than the chromosomes. Same for the 15 week bloods which are considered useless for chromosomes by Dr. Genetics, who I saw yesterday at BAMH - (Big Ass Mean Hospital). He really is a kind and lovely person, so odd he works there, then again his department used to be located in City Name hospital and got merged during the Mike Harris years. He's been underfunded and overworked ever since, because stupid BAMH wanted the quality & prestige of the program, but really hates properly funding the lab or the docs. (Sigh, the two ARE related....)

So we are doing loads of blood tests for my placenta, and in 2 weeks I'm getting a special anatomical scan they do at 14 weeks using the dildocam so that we can get a better look at everything. They did scan a few things today, and there was lots of movement!!!! Good tone, good flexion, all the lovely bits located in the right place. We saw five little toes on one foot, the other was kicking to much to count. The brain had ventricles, nicely separated, filling out all the space right, no fluid. (I'm paranoid about this, due to our past experience with hydrocephalus in Matthew. ) Face, nose, mouth, lots of things to see and they all looked good. We can't see everything perfectly yet like at an 18 week US, but the clarity was pretty kick ass, FWIW.

Soooo, Dr.Genetics was awesomely reassuring yesterday. He says that although my risk was much higher years ago, at this age, and with the heartrate and growth of the baby so far I'm simply comparable to my 39 year old peers. (See there IS a point to getting all those early ultrasounds. Now we have cumulative evidence we can use to calculate my risk. And I like the reassurance of knowing my risks are getting lower, thanks!) He thinks the real risk is to my placenta, and we had several animated discussions about whether my gene (PAI-1 4G/4G) has a proven correlation to placental problems. Although the evidence isn't as definitive as he would like, he does agree that there are lots of studies on it that are very convincing.

My amnio is likely set for Dec. 20th, and if I get a FISH test I'll know for Christmas, one way or another, all the answers I'm seeking.

Anyway, enough for now. I promised a friend I'd visit her, and I need to get my butt in gear!

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Amazing how your friends can ride to the rescue

I was so depressed this morning I didn't even look at the newspaper. And Megan, who commented on my blog's last post, (second Megan in comments-two different Megans) just mentioned that the Globe and Mail has a story about Infertility Bloggers, and some of my most favourite women are mentioned! Gil, and Mel, and Julie, and Tertia are all quoted. (Megan, by the way, if you do feel like pointing out this story to the PMO and the communications people there, it might be a good thing, especially considering the Feds have a long way to go when it comes to treating bereaved moms and the infertile decently. Email me, we can chat! I am full of good ideas.)

After last night, I felt like I'd been kicked in the head, and after reading this, and all of your lovely supportive comments, (and emails) damn I feel better. After all, if Gil can be brave, then maybe I can be a little less freaked out right? And maybe, just maybe I can try to remember that there are so many infertiles in the Liberal Party that trying to figure out which one is me, might be harder than I thought. (Okay, everyone else is in the closet besides me and Dion, but STILL, it might be difficult. ) And if they do things that are unfriendly, then maybe that makes them the big assholes, right?

Sigh....hoping, but I do feel a touch better.

I have to go see my genetics doc right now, and figure out if the odds of having another Trisomy 18 baby, at my age and with my shitty old ovaries are "maybe", "possibly", or "totally fucking guaranteed." Dr.Eyebrows says DHEA improves egg quality, but who the hell knows, right?

Oh, and bonus! I have to go alone, Mr.Cotta just called to say that he has to go run and urgently deal with a crisis with a client. Nice---I'm facing a firing squad, and he's going to hold some rich dudes hand. Lovely. No where the hell did I put that valium? Fuck, fuck, fuck.

So need some help with the paranoia

I had a visitor today from Canada's political scene, in fact, from Ottawa. I think it was a fellow infertile, and no, it wasn't any of the regular visitors I have who work in government departments. I don't mind you guys, because most of you seem to be bloggers or fellow moms, or infertiles just surfing by. No---this was a visitor from a very political place. And the only posts they looked at were the posts that they thought they could use to identify me. Most infertiles never notice my political posts, and most political visitors never look at my infertile posts. But this was different. They searched for specific details about the real me.

Worst part? They didn't identify themselves by email or comment, and they might be a friend or a political enemy, or shit, a frenemy. I'm stressed and I'd like to blog about something else causing me severe anxiety, but I'm kind of freaked now. Because someday, someone is going to come up behind me and say, "I know you are Aurelia, and I'm going to expose you," and because I react badly to blackmail, well, I'll just tell them to do whatever, and let the chips fall where they may.

Which sounds very nonchalant, and really, I feel sick.

I hope I'm wrong, and I don't know what to do. There's no way of knowing who saw that screen even if I track the IP address to the exact office. And of all the weeks to do this to me, this has to be the worst one possible.

So, I'm now tired and paranoid, and miserable. Help.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

brain fuzz

I am once again sucking at comments. I managed to make a few good ones here and there, but once again, am staring at 20 open tabs, and hundreds of unread feeds. I love everything you are all writing, I'm just a dork this weekend for comments.

I think all the blood and oxygen is going to my uterus and not my brain. Good for the ute, but geez, can't I have a little bit so I don't make a total ass of myself?

I went to see Motherisk for an in-person appointment on Friday, and forgot to write about it.

Remind me later. I know I won't friggin' remember.

Saturday, November 24, 2007

The Game of Risk

Thursday I bought maternity clothes as you know.

Today, I bought pillows for the new couch and drapery rods for the living room and the hallway, after months of wavering on colors and fabrics and styles, not to mention my attempts to hire professionals to make drapes! No luck then, but I think I just might have found the right ones.

Friday I spent the entire day at the Ashley Sale shopping for so much stuff that I had to store boxes of it, until I got to the cash register and set my debit card on fire to pay for it all. (Kidding actually, debit was fine...discounts are shockingly fabulous there.) I bought several gift boxes of Riedel stemless wine glasses, silver picture frames, Oilily wallets and cosmetic bags, toys for the kids, designer mats for front walk, Christmas decorations, a La Crueset ceramic kettle for Mr.Cotta, a crystal flower vase, and 8 full place settings of Wedgewood Strawberry & Vine China.

My funny little husband had a slight urrrkk when I came home, until I pointed out the several broken plates we have thrown out this past year, the banged up ancient half-rusted kettle he has used for years, the bent portrait frames on the piano, and the dollar store crap decorating our house. I cajoled him a bit, and last night, we eventually both had fun throwing out the junk, and replacing it with some much much better quality items.

Ironic moment of the day? Wearing maternity clothes, I was ten times more comfortable than normal, but also obviously pregnant, as in, all the salespeople made sure I had help carrying things out. (I worked it, I'll admit it. Gotta be some advantages, right?) So pregnant-looking that when I picked up Maddie in the morning to go there, I walked in, twinkle in my eye and said, "Mr. Cotta thinks we can hide the pregnancy for another couple of months or so from our family. What do you think?" and she fell over laughing. In fact, she laughed so hard, she almost peed her pants, and I laughed right along with her.

I know he's afraid to tell people, because he's afraid of failing again, in front of the whole world. Public failure really is the hardest thing to endure. I'm afraid of failing too, and the public aspect is something I'll have to deal with as a woman more than him. But I'm a tiny person, and my stomach is proportionately bigger than the rest of me. Right now, I look further along than my kid's piano teacher, a first-timer currently 22 weeks pregnant. She's barely looking more than plump.

We're all in now, every card dealt, all bets on the table. On a business level my husband can understand taking huge risks and losing a lot of deals, but sometimes, just sometimes getting huge rewards in return for taking all those risks. He has to go up against lots of other people who never have to take risks and just get handed everything as a matter of course. Like the "Lucky Sperm Club" - AKA trust fund babies. Or the normals, 9 to 5 jobbers with steady incomes who have a pension & benefits, 2 kids and a dog, or my faves, the Golden Boys, who are simply always in the right place at the right time, and get handed opportunities like gifts. We've never been those people in any aspect of our lives, personal or professional.

We gambled hugely when we had our two boys, and it paid off. We risked with Matthew and Mira and Georgia, and so so many other cycles in between and they all ended in disaster. Once again, we aren't part of the Lucky Sperm Club, or the Golden ones, and I'm sure as hell not normal.

But this year has been different, really truly different. Two years ago this time, we were close to bankruptcy, and this year everything shifted, dramatically. For six months I've had money in the bank, specifically for shopping, just sitting there, and I've surfed loads of websites, gone shopping in lots of stores and managed to buy only a bed, a sofa, and this computer, after agonizing over each and every one of them, as if merely purchasing things would tempt fate and ruin any possibility of our finances staying intact. (Okay, we got a TV too, but that was Mr.Cotta's decision.)

And this year my health improved, and I discovered DHEA and started the new regime, and after months of it managed to ovulate, and get pregnant. I'm taking a very different tack with this pregnancy, heparin, progesterone, aspirin, and all. So the question is, will any of it matter a damn?

Will the risk pay off? Will this all be worth it in the end, or am I just a fool?

This Wednesday is my nuchal test, and it was good news with Mac, and good news with Georgia, but terrible news with Mira. I can't help but remember the negative moment somehow, the damn technician refusing to show me the screen. And I can't help but wonder if the good news with Georgia was almost like a nasty setup for the disastrous ultrasound on amnio day with her. Lying there on that table, thinking about all the terrible news that could result from an amniocentesis, never believing that the bad news could happen even before the needle went near my uterus.

In the last week, I finally broke through some of my financial magical thinking and managed to spend a little without heaving in terror.

So at what point in this pregnancy do you think I'll be able to break through my baby related magical thinking and finally stop heaving in terror? 12 weeks? 16 weeks? 18 Weeks? 21 weeks? 32 weeks?

I'm thinking it may take even longer. But at least I can shop my way through the risk, right? I hope....

Thursday, November 22, 2007

A Happy Thankful Day

At the ultrasound this morning, the baby, (now named DinkyPie by the Boys, yes, I know....but they get to contribute something here, so I can't say no), anyway, DinkyPie was moving, but only after we joggled and jostled my stomach ridiculously. Turns out that although I ate a sugary breakfast, it was 2 hours before the appointment, and my apple juice bought in the lobby hadn't hit my stomach yet.

So DinkyPie slept and slept, until roughly woken up, by me laughing at Mr.Cotta. My crazy husband was wearing a red clown nose he had hidden in his coat pocket just in case I needed to be jollied out of the doldrums.

And DinkyPie kicked it's little legs!!!!

That put me in a really great mood for the rest of the day. So much so, that I decided to simply give in and buy some actual maternity clothes, especially pants. I had taken my old maternity clothes out of storage on Monday, and went through all the boxes of stuff. I discovered lots of good things, like two different dressy party outfits, one for winter, one for summer, several maternity tops, all in good condition, and still in fashion, lots of floaty summer dresses I pray I'll still need next spring and lots of little things, like skirts and underwear and things like bra extenders & tights, and of course, an all weather coat in case of rain or wind.

A pretty good haul acquired over 5 pregnancies with weight gain----until I took inventory of the pants. All narrow at the bottom & totally unusably ugly; the piece de resistance? A pair of shiny polyester stirrup pants! 1990's here we come baby! Sigh....

The only nice ones were one pair of boot cut black jersey pants, which I had loaned out to a friend, and got back----with the crotch worn out, completely, like with a giant see-through thin spot/almost hole. And no, I'm not going to even THINK about how that occurred. Shudder. Tossed in the garbage....

I've been wearing a couple of larger pairs of pants I bought with JuliaKB when she and Niobe came up to visit Toronto. Very trendy and nice that day, but lately, they were getting a bit small. Like, I couldn't do them up, I could only fasten the tops with an elastic through the button hole, and if I bent over the wrong way, serious plumber butt was at risk. So that plan could not continue.

So, with today's perfect U/S report in hand, I went off shopping to the maternity store and spent waaaayyyyyy too much money. Like enough to jinx/magical think/freak out everyone reading and myself too. I'll probably wig out tomorrow, and it's your job to remind me that my placenta doesn't give a damn if I've bought out half the store, right? RIGHT, RIGHT?

Best case scenario, I'll be comfortable, and look nice, and today, no worst case scenarios discussed. I've been giggling like a idiot ALL day, I'd like this nice warm fuzzy feeling to continue.

Of course, the Doctor and the ultrasound tech at my appointment were acting surprised that I was stressed, trying to be reassuring, "of course it's fine, good strong heartbeat, blah, blah, blah," and I had to remind them that for me the most stressful time is coming, since my latest history is losses at 12 weeks, and 15 weeks (discovered at 16 weeks). Well, today we're just not thinking about that right now. That can wait for next week, right?

Today is for being thankful for kicking legs and warmly covered butts.

And tomorrow is for shopping at the Ashley Sale. Weeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!