Big Baby and the tentative birth plan...

So my supposedly-going-to-be small baby is it turns out, still measuring two weeks ahead! 98th percentile for a 30 weeker.

Then again, all my boys get straight 90s! (says proud mama....chuckle)

My placenta has great blood flow, the PI (pulsatility index) is nice and low, my right umbilical artery is not as great as the left, but still both are okay. Seriously, for a woman who makes sucky placentas and rarely gets a live baby---this heparin therapy has been a miracle. A really amazing miracle. I don't care how many shots I have to take, I have to believe it's making a difference. As for other concerns, my blood pressure is fine, (I didn't see any relatives this weekend-coincidence? Who can say?) only trace protein in the urine, the head is down, lots of movement, and damn this baby is cute! He was smiling at me today, and has already grown nice big cheeks, just like his brothers had.

Oh, I can't WAIT for this kid to come out!!!! 10 more weeks will kill me, and 8 weeks will be hard enough to manage. Human gestation is just way too long if you ask me. We should make God change it or something. I've never been good with waiting. 2 week waits always killed me, well, this is like----arghhhhh.

Anyone have a time machine handy?

That said, I am now a babbling fool because I am worried about two new things. I actually don't want to repeat Mac's experience when I went into preterm labour at 32 weeks. Between the dilating, and the funneling, not so fun. Even more ridiculous? The resident who examined me had the LARGEST hands ever recorded in the history of humanity. He kept saying that I was only dilated a fingertip, and I couldn't help but point out that a. Fingertip dilation is still not good at 32 weeks, and b. So large were his appendages, that his fingertips were the width of the average person's hand. Not.even.kidding. So really? I was probably dilated a hell of a lot more. Still taking prometrium in hopes this is keeping my cervix closed.

Next babble? Which doctor I'll get at my labour & delivery. I am stressing about this because I am control freak, I don't want Dr. A at the high risk practice, who is a total asshole, but I like my OB and the other high risk guy as well as a few of the regular OBs. I want a Doctor who knows high risk but doesn't think that means we have to throw every single piece of technology at a problem. My OB is wonderful, and gets this, but do his colleagues?

It's not a zero sum game, as I've argued before.

It is possible to have a live baby and a regular vaginal birth, even *gasp* a nice gentle one. Silly me, I'd like to avoid PPD this time. I'd like to avoid PTSD this time. I'm hoping that even if I do end up needing every single medical intervention on earth---I'll get treated with kindness and decency and people who show me some consideration, and not just run me over like a Mack truck.

First request: if even one person treats me like a weirdo or a trainwreck or a medical horror story, I swear I'll lose it. I might BE a medical horror story, but they can suck it up and pretend I'm normal, but slightly in need of extra consideration, right? Staring, whispering, and pointing are uncool. If they have a question, and I'm not in the middle of a contraction, they can ask me to my face.

And as for what they say to my face? I will resent deeply if anyone tries to imply that they are more concerned with the safety of my baby than I am. You know? The old threat, "Well, we're only suggesting this because our priority is saving the baby. You don't want to risk the babies health, do you?"

Seriously, can you imagine anything more insulting to say to any woman, never mind a woman who has delivered dead children already? As if my only priority is to schedule my post-birth plastic surgery and fuck the fate of the baby. *eyeroll* And yet, nurses and doctors regularly say this to patients to bully them into doing whatever the medical staff wants. I mean, come on, like they are actually affected more than we are after a baby dies? Sure, maybe they get upset for a day or so...but in the end, they go back to their families and living kids---and we go home with empty arms and coffins.

I don't have any medical need for a c-section for example. And unnecessary c-sections have a higher rate of fetal death than vaginal births. If I actually do need it, say if the baby goes into distress, or is stuck, I'll happily do my own c-section with a rusty butter knife in a swamp....but if I don't have a medical need and I can do a vaginal birth, which I've done before, then why the hell not?

Can we not "right-size" the medical interventions? Just give women what they need without the whole damn menu thrown in?

Like---I've been positive for Group B Strep so I want my IV antibiotics in the parking lot, because there is a risk, but I'm okay to wait for the epidural until I'm having regular contractions a few minutes apart. I've done this before, I'm not as terrified as I was the first time around. I know that all those TV shows showing screaming women falling to floor clutching their stomachs are BULLSHIT. I'll be okay until round about 5-6 cm...then I'll break Mr.Cotta's hand.

Another point: I am very susceptible to infections, so if I actually need a urinary catheter, (and most women don't, it's just standard practice to stick them in us) then I'm bringing my own pediatric sized silicone catheters, a whole box, and donating the rest to any other poor woman who needs 'em! Silicone because it's 90% less likely to result in a UTI or urethritis, or a damaged bladder due to retained urine than the standard plastic/rubber combo. Why pediatric sized? Because I may have a vagina capable of pushing out a 9 pound baby, but I own a very very tiny urethra. Very sensitive. So sensitive that if I was in charge of licensing doctors in this country, I would make it a mandatory law that all Doctors be forced to get an oversized foley catheter inserted and then removed with no anesthesia. Let me tell you---those fuckers would think twice about ordering them on patients if they had to feel that kind of exquisitely searing pain. Guantanamo has banned catheters as a form of torture, yet Docs order them everyday for no reason other than tradition. Anyone see an issue with that?

Episiotomy? Nope, I do not consent. There is literally no medical evidence they are ever useful. They are Western medicine's version of female genital mutilation. They cause incontinence, sexual dysfunction, infection, and traumatic healing. And they don't save babies.

Anyway, like I said, I don't want a c-section, but if it's medically necessary, I consent, well, same with god forbid, a hysterectomy. With my history of retained placenta, it is a possibility and so, if AFTER every single measure has been taken to avoid one, yeah, you can do it, but only if the Doctors realize that I would consider it mutilation to lose my uterus. I would mourn the loss of a body part. Especially because by the time they are removing my perfectly healthy but lazy boggy uterus---my husband will be holding my perfectly healthy live son in another room. So tell me peeps, what could be the point? I see none.

And I would actually want to die, but only after suing their asses, if a Doctor ever took my perfectly healthy ovaries. Except for cancer, there is almost never a medical need to take out ovaries. I've lived through sudden premature ovarian failure. I would rather kill myself than ever go through that again. For me, it really is that bad, no I'm not being facetious or funny for the sake of anyone's amusement. I plan on taking HRT until I'm on my deathbed at 101. It keeps me sane, but only because I still have some form of working ovaries to supplement me. Without that....shudder....some women do okay without them, hell, some thrive without estrogen. I am not one of them. I know my husband would divorce me and my kids would hate me for life. I would never ever get or keep a job again. Hell, after some of my low estrogen blow-ups, I've wanted to run away screaming from me. (In case you are wondering, I looked a lot like I was in a manic phase with severe anger issues, but the kind where no meds work, ever. Terrifying...)

And finally, I want respect in the delivery room. All women deserve respect, and some Docs---just don't get it. I don't want to be talked down to, like I'm some uninformed fool and I want the nurses and Doctors to take to my face. I am not a piece of meat.

Do not speak to my vagina. Speak to my face.

If you are doing a c-section, do not speak to my incision. Speak to my face.

This last bit, I think will be the hardest one to get. Why is that so depressing?

Attempting calm

In the last 24 hours, I have realized that I can't get myself worked up anymore over my usual rants.

I need to try for calmness, low blood pressure and a sense of zen, if that's even possible. Last night my neck went into spasm sometime in the morning right around my 10th very vivid incredibly lifelike dream. It was so real that I was totally convinced it had happened even though it was insanely far-fetched. I woke up thrashing to discover that my husband had simply left the bedroom because I was making so much noise, snoring, sniffling, flipping over in bed and talking in my sleep that he was wide awake.

Yeah, I'm a joy to sleep with in the last few months of pregnancy!

Anyway, neck spasms are not good. They are a sign of severe stress in my body, and they hurt like hell. Off to the chiropractor for me. I think they were caused by a couple of things as well. I'm worried about some things around the house organization & money-wise. We need to buy some baby furniture and the painting guys are coming in, and there is a lot going on, but I really feel to tired to do much. Meanwhile, time is ticking.

I have one baby outfit, 2 diapers, and not much else clean and ready. Everything else is in storage, or filthy, or needs to be replaced because it's under old safety standards. I need to get the old stuff out and figure out if it's usable. Anyone want to go shopping? I may finally have the guts to buy something. Or at least order it for pickup in 8 weeks.

Other little oddities? Turns out my posts on Earth Hour attracted some attention from some right-wing blogger, who knows nothing about me and laughed at a phrase I used. Normally I'd jump into the fray and make it clear that between my own business and political connections and my husbands, I do know what's what and then I'd tear them a new one, but then----I realized I have more important things to do right now, like grow a baby.

I have to keep my blood pressure down, so I'm just going to ignore them, not comment there, or link back and just relax. I really do need to let go of some stuff.

Damn hard, but in the interests of what really matters, I may need to force myself to stop being cynical and getting worked up over things I can't solve.

OB appointment tomorrow, and an ultrasound for placenta and growth checks. I'll let you all know what happens!

It's official

Either my writing sucks, or most of you never click on links, or you have no sense of humour.

I'm going to blame the fact that you didn't click links for the reason why so many of you did not get that I was attempting to imitate the style of the blog-writer for StuffWhitePeopleLike. It's less painful than contemplating the possibility that I suck as a writer, and you do seem to laugh at other things I write....so nevermind.

As for Earth Hour, I do believe in being Green, I just hate the guilt industry that has built up around making individuals, especially women feel shitty and sad about their environmental obligations. Governments and corporations have total control of what kind of things appear in the marketplace, and we can only buy what is available, mostly lousy products that harm the environment, yet events like this are designed to make us feel like we CAN do something.

When in point of fact, events like this do nothing.

For example, a little while back, I had a chat with Glen Murray at a political event, (he is considered a sustainable cities expert, green guru, yadda, yadda), and according to him, there is not one family car on the market that is friendly for the environment. The Prius is too small for the average family to drive in and fit groceries or school bags in, and cannot be used by anyone who has to drive elderly parents or whomever around. And it has bad mileage on the highway.

There are no minivans that get decent mileage, and most so-called hybrid SUVs are only designed to get better acceleration. In his words...."Stop feeling guilty, you can't do anything as long as there is nothing on the market to buy, and it's unfair to blame families and consumers."

Now, can I do a few things around the house? Sure....but none of them add up to dick. A few kilowatts here and there is not going to do anything even across multiple homes and cities. Not compared to what industry and government can do. They have refused to upgrade our electrical infrastructure for years and years, and megawatts now leak from the power wires that transport electricity from the grid so badly, that we could literally not bother to build an entire nuclear station here in Ontario if we just upgraded those alone. Same exact situation for water and sewer lines. (Did you know clean water makes us healthier too? And leaky sewer lines spread disease and bacteria like E.Coli? Some people believe that leaky power lines cause cancer-can't confirm that rumour? And all that leaking from every where increases health care costs.....)

But fixing that might mean increasing taxes and spending on boring things, like sewers, instead of *cool* *exciting* stuff like MRIs and fighter jets and tanks.

It's like so many other situations in life....media makes us feel guilty for being shitty evil consumers who need correcting and neglects to mention the real bad guys, the corporate bastards who refuse to pay taxes, and his buddy the cowardly politician who is afraid to tell the voter the truth to their face. Much easier to beat up on Larry Lunchbox and his family.

Much easier to placate the masses with bread and circuses.

Like Earth Hour. Nice Circus, huh?

As a Bag of flour

Have you read the blog Stuff White People Like? Found it a while back, peeing myself laughing...funniest part is in the comments when the white supremicists visit, and don't get the satire. AT ALL.

Plus now I'm convinced that never mind that I am as white as a bag of flour, white like snow, hell white like boxed mashed potatoes, I may be faking it after all because I don't like the outdoors, summer camp, Juno, or Arts degrees. I do like renovations though...hmmm.

So I thought I'd do a tribute post, cause after all, one white guy can't do it all, can he? I think some of us need to pitch in and help. White People like tributes & memes don't they?

My Stuff that White People like is Earth Hour, where we turn out our lights for one hour on Saturday from 8-9 pm. It has completely jumped the shark at this point, and has a devoted following of white people by now. I mean, think about it, what guy in a poor neighbourhood or the ghetto is going to turn out the lights? It's an invitation to getting robbed.

The other thing white people like? Symbolic gestures, especially meaningless ones. Turning off your light bulbs for an hour isn't going to do shit for the environment. But it will make the white person feel good. And isn't that what counts?

Not driving a car for a half a day---now that will do something. But white people won't do that. That will take effort. Symbolic gestures give the white person a feeling of community, a feeling of being part of the crowd. And helping the environment with a symbolic gesture is even more meaningful, since actually helping the environment, would cause them to have to do something that might really effect their lifestyle.

It's like using those reusable cloth bags? The ones that we are all supposed to use to help the environment instead of plastic bags? More Stuff White People Like. Yeah, the big guilt trip that does absolutely nothing to help the environment since all the plastic bags used by an average family in a year will save approximately one ounce of crude oil, and all the plastic bags ever made take up less than 1% of the space in landfill. Again, actually not using their car for half a day would save gallons of gas.

But white people don't want to actually do anything, they like symbolic gestures better. Especially meaningless ones, no matter how small.....

I feel so pasty now, chuckle.

20 tabs and counting, debate still ensuing

I have been unusually bizarrely tired this week. Okay, not so bizarrely, I am still recovering from having the kids home for March Break. Which is why there are 20 tabs of blogs open on firefox waiting for comments from me.

The person who invented March Break really was an asshole, by the way. Almost as big an asshole as the person who invented summers off. Kids need structure and routine, and these endless fucking holidays in which very few camps and sitters are available are the nightmare of every working parent in existence. It was one thing years ago when all the mommies were home and everyone let their kids just run wild all over the neighbourhood, but then we learned about creepy people and figured keeping kids supervised might be slightly safer and then women decided they might actually have the nerve to get jobs outside the house....and then some retro dip shit bozo in the 1970's invented March Break.

Right when all our mothers were trying to get free, they decided to make it more expensive to get a job. Sexist titheads.

I keep having this fantasy that someday every school will be open every day of the year except--maybe a few stat holidays and maybe a rotated few weeks for maintenance. And the schools would be all open like 6 am-9 pm, and they would all have meal and snack programs, and any kid ages 6 months to 18 years old would be able to be dropped off or picked up anytime, and every school would function like a giant community centre/daycare/camp, with mandatory weeks and optional weeks. There would extra teachers and daycare workers and older students would help take care of younger ones.

And nobody would have to send their kids there, but for the poor, the retail worker, the factory worker, the single parent, the person who works contract, the parent who works from home and has weird schedules....it would be fucking heaven on earth. Nobody would leave there kid there all the time, but what are the people who work at the grocery store 11 to 8 supposed to do? Or the nurses who work 3 days a week, 12 hours at a time, then have 4 days off?

And for me, a woman who is nervous about some nanny being alone with her kids? Yeah, I prefer daycare. I really do. I mean, if I can't do 10 hours alone with a toddler without losing my mind, how can I expect someone else to? What if they flip out? What if they let them play with french knives? What if they are bored with my darling babies and ignore them?!?!? I admit it, I really suck as a stay at a home mommy. I'm constantly shocked that anyone on earth can do it. I get paranoid wondering if anyone will be any good at it. I mean, a moron would be better than me, but still, I was hoping for better quality caregiving than "slightly improved than me the moronic mother".

So, I'd love to find a good daycare locally---but it really won't solve the issues I've got around what I do with the older boys when they are off school. And daycare for all three would be more money than the mortgage. And my house would still be a mess. And no daycare is ever open longer than 5 pm. So if I go back to university, or get a real executive type job, I'll never be able to work late or take a class that goes to 5:30, never mind a late evening one.

And someday, I'd like to be gainfully employed again, and not just in some dead end 9 to 5 joke job. I've done those, they suck. No challenge, no interesting stuff to delve into. And as much as I adore my kids, like I said, I'm not very good at the stay at home mom thing. I have waayy more patience if I get out and get a little intellectual stimulation every day, not to mention sunshine and fresh air and adult company.

If I get a nanny now, it will make sense because someone can help me put away the groceries and make meals and pick up the kids when I'm desperate for a nap. I can watch them with my kids now and get some idea of what they'll be like later. I'll already have someone here when the baby arrives, and I'm in round the clock confusion....but damn I feel like a rich dilettante being a SAHM with a nanny. You all do it, I should be able to handle it!

Someone is going to mention my husband pitching in...and for many reasons, including the new company and how many hours he works, plus he has some medical issues that mean he needs extra rest....I can't ask him to do any more. And since he isn't the writer of this blog, it would be unfair of me to reveal anything more about his medical condition here. It's not that big of a deal, it's just that he is already doing a lot to help and frankly, I think this pregnancy and the thought of a new baby, is pretty hard on him, stress-wise. Yes, another thing to feel guilty about.

This debate is killing me....endlessly turning it around in my head. Which is why it looks like I'm stalking you on your statcounters.

Sorry.

Any ideas?

29 weeks, feet up

I saw my OB again, and while the baby is doing well, I'm feeling pretty tired. Maybe it was the 12 people we had over for Easter dinner yesterday? Or maybe it was the subject matter, which revolved around how everyone felt about my brother-in-law and his recovery, (doing well, btw, the hospital has been great since he had so many physical and mental issues to deal with, best thing we've ever done) and well, he became a bit of a debate.

An unpleasant one at that. Cause now that he's doing well, it's time for everyone to get pissed off at him for putting us through hell, doncha know? I'm personally in the forgive and forget camp, but I'm only an in-law, so I don't seem to count. I keep wondering how many years I have to be married into the clan, and how many Cottan children I have to produce before I get my passport? No one can give me a number......

So after 2 weeks of the kids being home, and too many arguments....is it any surprise that my blood pressure is ever so slightly up? And that there is once again a some protein in my urine?

Yeah, still not swollen, weight is okay, as you can see from my previous post, I'm all tummy. Thanks for all your lovely supportive comments, btw. I'm a bit of a control freak about my weight, and I purposely don't own a scale or ever check it, because I know I have the potential to have an eating disorder if I ever let myself---too much anxiety, I guess? Anyway, I was kind of shocked at my size in the photo, and worked myself up, but you dear readers, convinced me I look good.

So there! Phooey on worrying about crap. I'm going to rest and sit on my butt, and keep my feet up.

And maybe next week, things will look better, right? Positive thinking, right? RIGHT?

To good egg days

*Belly picture at the bottom--warning to those of you feeling sensitive--read my words and skip the pic if you can't take seeing it. Love to you anyway*

I feel so lucky this Easter, yes even when I am momentarily gripped with terror---I know how incredibly lucky I am to have ever been able to have my living children, and to be pregnant again now.

I often worry that when I comment on the blogs of women who are still in the struggle that they will take offense at my presence, that they will feel angry that a woman who has what they want should dare to tell them to hope.

I hope and pray that instead they will read my blog and know that when a Doctor tells them that nothing will ever work, that they will never get pregnant with their own eggs, that they will never have a living child---the Doctor might just be wrong. Technology can change, new drugs can be invented, new research can prove that it isn't always their bodies' fault, a diagnosis and a new treatment is possible. Even the best Doctors can be wrong.

There is always hope.

The baby I am carrying is living proof that sometimes a good egg can still be found, and drugs like heparin and progesterone can keep us pregnant, and I pray that my pregnancy inspires the people who read me to find a second opinion, to question the Doctors, to know that they and they alone should be the ones to make choices about their bodies and keep trying if they really want to. No doctor has the right to destroy our hope and take our dreams.

And if, after every attempt, after every option is explored, an individual couple makes the choice that they will never raise living children, then I want them to know that it is possible to go on, to live life with joy and happiness and peace. Loribeth and Pamela Jeanne are living proof of that. Women like them kept me sane during the lowest periods, when I was sure that I was never going to find a good egg.

To those of you who have been told to give up? That what you want is an impossible dream? Witness the proof. Feel free to send this to your gutless soul-crushing REs, the ones who want nothing more than to suck the joy from the very marrow of your bones....add your own subtitles, just for fun.

The 7 1/2 month pregnant belly of a recurrent miscarrier.

The soon to be born genetic child of a woman with premature ovarian failure.

The pregnant belly of woman who sincerely believes that Doctors aren't Gods.

So here I am in all my glory, a far shot, then a close up:

Hot momma is back!

Okay, foolish me just posted that title without a post. Duhhh, too relaxed after all that vacationing. Here's the real post.

The mini-vacation actually turned out to be a little different than I thought. Great Wolf Lodge is definitely a 100% families with kids phenomenon. Other theme parks get couples, or singles, or teenagers with friends and no adults. But not this place, it was all family, all the time. (Because you have to pay for a room overnight to get entry to the waterpark...) They have these great wristbands that everyone gets which function as room keys and a way to charge food and lockers and spas to your credit card. Which means your kids can run back and forth to the room, very safely, and they aren't chained to mommy. And there are loads of bathrooms, and change tables, and a kid-sized buffet table, and activities that are fun for kids, all G-rated. Every need a family could have, even wireless Wifi throughout the resort for parents to check on email, and fridges without minibars so you don't get ripped off but can store babyfood and kid snacks. Yes, a bit noisy and it all smelled like chlorine, but minor annoyances truly. I swear, GWL turned out to be family friendly heaven. At first I thought I was the only pregnant woman there, but it turns out that I wasn't. I was surrounded by women who if not pregnant were just postpartum, and dozens of babies so cute, just looking at them made me SQUEE!

Seriously, I haven't had this kind of babylust, as opposed to terror, since before I got pregnant this time. I used to stare at babies with the most incredible hunger, desperation even. I wasn't repelled by babies like some of you are, I was thisclose to committing an act of kidnapping! Until I got pregnant this time, and all I could think of was how scared I was of losing this baby, and my focus became my uterus and my uterus only. I turned inward, and stopped noticing others, and I know it wasn't a good way to govern my emotions.

Anyway, this weekend, I began to feel a lot more normal. People looked at me gigantically pregnant and they smiled, and they said congratulations, and I smiled back and said thanks. No qualifiers, no discounts, no "well, I'm high risk and so far so good, but we're not counting on it yet."

I just acted like a regular pregnant woman and I started to feel like it was okay to sit in that skin. That persona. Kinda nice.

Best part? I was so worried about bathing suits, but with all the moms around, no need. All of them had these tankinis, like 2 piece that covers the stomach to the edge of the bottom piece, and no one looked like a supermodel. Just nice and average, some large, some small, but all very reassuringly unself-conscious. I had bought a black maternity 2 piece like theirs with a coverup that came with it. The top went over my stomach and just showed a tiny strip of skin, although sometimes I rode up unless I was careful to keep it pulled down. I figured that was pretty daring, no?

Weeeelll, slightly more daring than I thought. After a couple of poolboys stared, tongues hanging out, at me lying on a lounge chair, and one of the chefs in the restaurant offered to personally teach me a new Lamaze method, I clued in.

To the casual observer, I looked like I was wearing a black bra, black panties, and a see through lacy black negligee.

While over 7 months pregnant. In public.

Yah----


So, the bellyshot is coming, but not in that outfit, not on the internet. Good lord.....

The morning after the rant

Okay, slightly calmer this a.m. And this last week hasn't been all bad. We saw Horton Hears a Who and it was good...although they put a weird environmental global warming angle into it. I kept thinking "Dude, wrong film, you should've done the Lorax for that" then I realized that Fox had released Horton.

Ding, slaps forehead, of course the network that brings us Fox news pro-war nutbars isn't going to want to emphasize the anti-occupation angle of the original book! Ha...then again Fox news doesn't believe in global warming either....hmmm...guess they have egg on their faces right now, ehh? Green eggs? hee hee

For the first time EVER, I missed a by-election. I've helped out in every election and every by-election in years, but not this one. Too tired, too stressed, and frankly there is no way on earth I could go out and knock on doors in my condition, so I admit, I said fuck it and stayed home and watched TV. I feel guilty anyway.

Plus, I admit it, I'm kind of hiding out. I've told loads of people I know and have emails for, that I'm pregnant, but if I go to a big event like this, and something goes wrong, I'll have to tell hundreds of people, and I just don't know if I can handle that. I don't mind telling people by email the bad news, frankly I prefer it, but endless people I barely know over and over again verbally...sucks.

We also went to the Saint Patrick's Day parade, and we went to Ikea and bought Kaz the desk for his room he'll need. We're planning to do the big room rearrangement in the next 3 weeks and he needs more than a bed and a dresser. Like a desk for studying. We finally got him signed up for his new school, which is Grade 7-12. Which means he is in high school. Gulp.....my baby can't be that old, not possible. I'm imagining all this, truly.

The new fridge and washer/dryer arrived, and it was a hell of a two days getting them in the house, installing them, rearranging furniture and flooring, etc. My sewing desk (20 year crappy Ikea desk) got bashed and destroyed in the process. :( Logically I know I can get a new one, a wayyyy better one. I should get one. I deserve it. Still....kind of sad here. I had it for twenty years after all!

The fridge got a dent in the rear. Hardly visible and maybe I shouldn't complain but after all this time, I really didn't want a scratch and dent. You know? Anyway, it will end up being covered by the cupboards in the new reno next year, so I'm not getting a new one, even though Sears offered it. The washer got a HUGE scratch along the way, and that is visible and obvious, so we're either getting a new washer or I'm going to ask them to see if they can replace that panel only and if they can it will look perfect. Why all the damage?

Narrow Victorian Toronto House + large new appliances + delivery guys who don't read manufacturer instructions on how to disassemble to get stuff in small house = scratches and dents.

As for the next few days? Today I'm off to buy a maternity bathing suit. I had one and it seems to have disappeared. And tomorrow morning we leave for Great Wolf Lodge for a couple of days. (Yes, Mr.Cotta is letting me go further than 15 minutes away from a level 3 NICU....stop the presses.) Me and my neurosis are going to sit around and get a massage and pedicure while the boys play in the pool and waterslides. Mr.Cotta won't have to even watch because they have so many lifeguards. I figure after the spa I might sit on the lazy river or go poolside and read a book.

I might bring my laptop, but I won't likely be able to use it anywhere near the pool area without getting it rusty and I don't know if they have wifi. But my Blackberry works, so I can still get emails and comments I have been unable to surf on the Blackberry so far. I'm afraid of being charged a billion dollars by Rogers. I might try blogging by email if anything interesting happens. That's cheap.

Okay, off to buy the dreaded suit, and then home to wax some stuff...oooh the pain...but with the heparin I'm taking I don't dare shave anything I have trouble seeing.

If I end up looking okay in this suit, I'll try to post a belly shot when I get back. This could be amusing!

So how do you guys handle the stress?

I seem to be paralyzed with indecision and stress all throughout this pregnancy. I get unhappy and freaked over nothing, then stupidly happy over dumb things.

When a doctor tells me I have good test results, I don't believe them.

My GTT came back perfect....and of course, instead of being happy, I'm pissed that I had to take it to begin with; total waste of tax dollars, and I hate the taste of the orange glucose shit they serve, plus I had to pay $24 for parking that day because I couldn't get a good spot. (A good cheap parking spot is a rare thing in Toronto, treasured in fact.) Funny twist, I looked at my records when the doc was out of the room, and my 1 hour measurement was 8.8, which is perfect at 75 mg of glucose after 1 hour. Which, btw, means that the heavily flavoured chai tea with sugar I drank shortly before the first 50 mg glucose test contained exactly 25 mg of glucose.....and all those boobheads who said that fasting is unnecessary prior to the first screening test? They really need to shut up and get the fuck out of my way today.

To any of you who have to take the glucose screening test, the 50 mg one, please I beg of you, eat a balanced meal with complex carbs and protein 2-3 hours prior, then NOTHING. NOT A DROP OF ANYTHING until you have to swallow that disgusting orange shit.

People who have GD will still fail, but those of us with normal sugar and insulin will not get false positives that way.

I can't save myself from that piece of stress, but maybe I can save a few of you.

Meantime, no one takes my worries about this pregnancy seriously. My OB seems to think that if he laughs and jollies me enough and tells me that we are past the worst that I will relax. Same with my husband. Same with my real life friends. It's like they all want the happy ending right now, and they want me to play along and make nice and everyone will sing kumbaya and we don't even have to wait and see the live baby, we can just celebrate NOW.

But I just don't work that way.

Truthfully, I think my OB still has some concerns, but he thinks that this is the way to keep me calm. My husband can barely think about me and the baby because he is still dealing with his brother which is still a mess as he gets better. (He is feeling better, but is now located way the hell out in the middle of nowhere, kind of a logistical nightmare for us to be honest. WTF is wrong with staying in the downtown core people? Big hospitals, lots of docs, transit, close to relatives.....but hey no-one listens to me, I'm just the in-law....sigh...)

What I really need, is someone to take charge, to look worried, to carry the stress, to be my General, my Saviour, my Knight-in-Shining-Armour, my Dr.Google, maybe even my Horton?

I need someone to depend on, a someone to take care of me, but no one seems to exist like that, so I end up in this hideously stressful position having to take care of myself, advocate for myself, wonder if each muscle twinge is something, anything worth going in and asking about.

I really don't remember how I made it through my pregnancy with Mac. It was eight years ago.

To those of you who have made it through more recently, how did you do it? HOW?

Dr. Suess, my hero

The name of my blog, No Matter How Small, came from a saying that you are about to see in the media a lot right now, "A person's a person, no matter how small" from the new movie "Horton Hears a Who", recently released as a full length feature.

Well nowhere on that official movie site will you read the real truth about Dr.Suess and his very very political background. The movie studios like to sanitize everything, to make it all shiny and perfect and boring. But that's not a good idea for a guy like this, or an issue as complex as the ones he devoted his life too. You see Theodore Geisel, or Ted, as he came to be known, was a true believer in human rights, a strong advocate for the little guy and the best all around subversive the world has ever known. Subversive because he spread his message through children and mothers and nursery rhymes. He was the master of subtlety.

All his books are political, because they sprang from his first creation, the political cartoons he wrote. There is a PBS special here all about it. Just check out the gallery, or this site. He started as an advocate for African-Americans who were being treated horrendously in the US under Jim Crow laws and Jews who were being exterminated by Hitler. His position was that he wanted to get the US to declare war on Nazi Germany and the Axis, since it was the only way to save the Jewish people and all the other minorities who were being victimized. Conventional war, not nuclear war, by the way. He didn't like war, but knew that unless someone stood up to Hitler, the atrocities would never end.

Interestingly enough he had a bias against the Japanese people in his early career and his cartoons about them and the Empire are not merely antagonistic, but outright racist. The caricatures he drew were outrageous by today's standards. But that all changed after he went to Japan and met the people who lived there, the people who really were persons, after all.

When Dr.Suess wrote "A person's a person, no matter how small" in Horton Hears a Who he was referring to the unending American occupation of Japan after WWII, during which the Japanese people were treated like dirt, lost all their human rights, and disrespected as potential warmongers and terrorists in the eyes of the occupying forces. (Can anyone think of a modern day example, oh yeah...that Iraq thing.....couldn't be that lovely lefty Hollywood influence coming out?) It also refers to the atrocity of the nuclear bombs that were dropped on the people of Japan at the end of WWII, and the horrendous damage they did.

The dramatic change in his attitude is because he went to Japan and learned about the Japanese people through the friendship of a man named Mitsugi Nakamura, to whom the book is dedicated. He learned he was wrong, and he told the world. Horton Hears a Who is his mea culpa, the ultimate story of why we should never vilify an entire group of people, because after all, they just might be----just like us.

Not many people can publicly admit to making such a horrendous mistake, but he did. Having feet of clay myself, I never cease to admire my fellow life travellers who stumble and fall and have to pick themselves up.

To quote "The Political Dr.Suess" - "Yertle the Turtle, for example, is a cautionary tale against dictators. (Yertle is Adolph Hitler.) The Lorax contains a strong environmental message. The Sneetches is a plea for racial tolerance. (Some sneetches wear yellow stars, others do not.) Horton Hears a Who is a parable about the American Occupation of Japan. And The Butter Battle Book pillories the Cold War and nuclear deterrence. Even the Cat in the Hat's famous red-and-white-striped hat has a political predecessor in the top hat Uncle Sam wears in Dr. Seuss's wartime cartoons."

I have to say that I have always found it curious that the pro-life movement could have mistaken so totally his intentions, and assumed that no matter how small could refer to their movement. Fools---his wife set them straight, she has always guarded his legacy, and used her lawyers and considering my history, yes, I am very very glad of that.

I do wonder why he never had any children. His wife has discussed this slightly, but I've always wondered if they were infertile as well? Perhaps there was history of pregnancy loss with his first wife? Unfortunately, not an answer we'll ever know, but such a curiosity of mine.

Interestingly, even though the movie site has been thoroughly blanded by the movie executives in charge, Suessville has not. It is a very good retelling of his history as an ad executive, his history with PM magazine, Life, & Vanity Fair, his creation of cartoon training films for the troops (Private Snafu was the main character), and his history of authorship. One of the best stories of all time is about the creation of Green Eggs and Ham. Children's literature, and especially primers for children learning to read were very boring at the time, thus Cat in the Hat was created. Bennett Cerf decided that they needed more books this interesting, and wagered a bet that Ted could not write a children's book that rhymed with less than 50 words. The result---Green Eggs and Ham with it's repetitive phrases, and fabulous illustrations. To this day, if I want my kids to try a new food, I know which book to read!

My other favourite story from the site---Art Buchwald in his ignorance, chided Ted for never having written a political book, and Ted promptly picked up a copy of Marvin K. Mooney Will You Please Go Now!, crossed out Marvin K. Mooney, added Richard M. Nixon, and presented it to his friend. Buchwald put it all in his column the next day, and the day after that, Nixon resigned!

Who knew a children's author could be so powerful?

As for this blog, I have always believed that every person counts equally, whether it be the starving citizen of the Third World, or the wealthy and powerful. We cannot simply exclude others existence, simply because of our North American standard of worth. This was brought home to me when I attempted to get one of our national newspapers to accept as a submission an obituary for one of my lost babies. They had taken the entry for the paid obituary, but told me that any submission for an column obituary had to be of a living person, and one who have lived a life at that. Since he had never done anything with his life, never achieved anything, to them he didn't count. The overwhelming impact on my life---irrelevant. The fact that funerals and obits and grief are for the living---irrelevant to the horrid woman on the other end of the line.

This crushed me beyond words. I vowed right then and there that I would prove that my son did matter, that his life and death, however brief had changed me and the entire world. I would do things in his memory, I would make laws and change hearts and minds, all to let the world know that he had mattered and so did I. I still live by this, and every time I talk to a politician, every time I email a journalist, every time I write a post, I make that vow again.

I am a person, I count. Mothers are persons. We matter, the women and men who remember our babies. The world may think that we are nothing, just a few scattered individuals to be ignored or used but I know the truth.

Someday my very own version of Horton will come along, and instead of being treated like specks of dust, the world will know that grieving parents deserve better. The world will hear our voices ring out loud and clear.

And they will know that grieving mothers are persons too, no matter how small.

Just the distraction I needed

My leg cramps did calm down after that post went up, and then I took some sleeping medication, the stuff my doc gave me----happy sane momma = happy sane baby right? Had a good sleep last night, now I just need to replicate that for a week or so and life will seem less freaked out. Not gonna think about the rest.

If the kid comes out with three horns, I'm sure I'll hear I told you so from someone in the real world, so only the entire internet's gonna know, okay? You guys can keep a secret right? Good...
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Now for some amazing news! I woke up this morning and saw the National Newspaper Awards. Turns out that the Globe and Mail and Carolyn Abraham had a nomination under long features, for a story about the recent trend in people having funerals for their miscarried babies. (Behind a firewall since it was so long ago---let me know if you want a copy, I have it as a .pdf, and yes, you just might recognize a few people you know...(grin)) You all know that this is a subject and a story near and dear to my heart? One that I know is controversial, but so what? In the end, I am pro-choice, and I firmly believe that we can't suck and blow on this one, either we all believe in a woman's right to choose to get pregnant, stay pregnant, end an unwanted pregnancy and mourn the loss of a wanted pregnancy, or we don't. How a woman decides to view a pregnancy is her business, it's not for others to dismiss her feelings on the subject. We as a society have to start respecting other's personal choices, even the ones we may not agree with, otherwise, we may as well live in a dictatorship, right?

So to any members of the press reading this post, please vote for the story!!! It's up against a story about spring cleaning, and another about a shooter in Montreal. Fine stories I'm sure, but this is 25 times better IMHO.

Not that I'm biased or anything! chuckle
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I'm off the see a movie tonight with the family. We're going to see our favourite new anti-war anti-occupation of Iraq political movie. We're going to see Horton Hears a Who! What, you didn't think it was political? You silly people, you actually thought Dr.Suess was all about children's books and amusement? Oh my, you need to read my next post then. Just putting in links, it should be up in a few minutes.

Yes, a multi-post day....it's amazing what a good night's sleep can do. I am feeling embarrassed by the fact that I am sitting here blogging while others work around me, they know I'm high risk and can't do my usual painting, helping, sorting, but still it does feel rather odd, rather lady of the house, you know?

Oh well, I'm working too right? I'm making a baby. It just involves less outer work, more inner work.

My leg is cramping

So I can't type for long, without getting the heebie jeebies. I took calcium and zinc and D but it's taking it's sweet time kicking in.

Dahlings.....the Dyson DC15 Animal truly kicks ass. With only doing some basic vacuuming so far, like the hallway, and the middle bits of the room----the entire canister is filled with dirt. I could knit a brand new cat with all this fuzz and crap.

And that was the part of the carpet I thought was clean! I love this thing. Seriously.

The fridge is shiny brushed aluminum, bottom freezer, french doors, and a whole lot of of cute dials and buttons and things. No ice maker or water dispenser because they are unnecessary and they cost $1000 extra. For a $1000 I can make my own ice thanks. Still, it's so large I could get lost in it. The washer and dryer are front loading high efficiency, with a steam cycle and on platforms so no more bending over to load and unload. And they are RED. I've never had a new washer and dryer before. So cool. (And yes, all this stuff is very energy efficient, uses less electricity than the old stuff, so maybe it counts as green, not red, eh?)

And now for the sad whiny part of the post.

My thyroid bloods came back normal, so I'm back to square one. I had to do that 2 hour GTT this morning after fasting and it was awful. That orange junk tastes like crap and they won't let me do the jelly beans! Logically I know I'll probably be fine, but I'm really unhappy at even the thought of having to do even one more fucking needle. Even if it is just skin pricks on my finger.

It's not fair. Why can't I be normal? What in fuckin' hell did I ever do to deserve this?

Regular women get to be pregnant whenever they want, and have as many kids as they want, and they don't have to do anything except paint the damn nursery to have a baby!

And right now, all I want to do is cry and whine and moan. And of course, my husband is not feeling like listening because he thinks it won't happen and it's no big deal, (denial boy marches on..) and the real life friend I told about this basically told me to suck it up and shut up because I should just be grateful to be pregnant. This random piece of cruelty from a woman who never ever had an issue with reproduction and only had low risk pregnancies. I felt like smacking her. She probably wonders why I keep telling her I have to go and can't talk on the phone anymore. Gee, anyone out here surprised? I'm not even sure why I still speak to her after she implied that my occasional donut and hot chocolate probably either caused my previous pregnancy losses or they might've caused something to happen this time. Or how she got mad at me for saying that I don't feel like going to see Juno....I didn't even tell her how much I hate it. Just said I didn't feel like watching it based on a few reviews from some other people and she launched and started yelling at me I had to follow her opinion instead. Sigh....I do not need this right now.

I'm sick of worrying about this because I've had just about every other issue in pregnancy. You name it, I've had it. Except for GD. NOW it happens? Now?!? This?!? On top of every other medical issue I've had to go through, I get more crap on my plate. Haven't I been through enough?

Unfair, uncool, unhelpful, evil in fact. Shit. I'm going to bed and crying myself to sleep.

Maybe I'll distract myself with the new appliances and the workman arriving tomorrow. I need something.

Maybe this is why I'm so tired

I have been weirdly exhausted, more so than normal pregnancy, and yet I've had insomnia. I'm so tired I could cry, but when I try to sleep I can't. My mind races, my heart beats loudly, I toss and turn. I have a very comfortable bed, I have my snoogle, the room is the right temperature....and yet, yesterday morning I woke up at 4 a.m. totally unable to sleep. I came downstairs, ate my first breakfast of the day, and surfed a bit while I tried to figure out what was going on.

And then it hit me like a smack upside the forehead----my thyroid is out of whack again!

I was hyperthyroid for a while in 2006, and then normal, and then it kept showing normal while my RAIU scans were bizarrely abnormal. They just kept telling me that it was going to be this way for awhile, swinging back and forth for years until my thyroid was hyper all the time and then they'd ablate it, meanwhile I'm just supposed to suffer in agony....fucking boneheads.

I never accepted this, partially because it puts any pregnancy I achieve in danger, but also because being hyperthyroid for any period of time puts my organs and bones in danger. The thyroid gland is no longer useful if it starts to go hyper, it can even become cancerous from all the cell growth, not to mention the oh-so-attractive neck goiter, so it's smarter to just ablate it, one radioactive pill and I'm done, and then just take thyroid medication to treat becoming hypothyroid. Again, one little itty-bitty pill every morning, and I'm right as rain. Very simple, but none of the endocrinologists I've spoken to will write the order.....they are all quite desperate for me to keep being sick. Guess they bill more that way, stupid fuckers!

My OB is off for March Break and he has someone subbing in for him, but I didn't feel like explaining the whole rigamarole to a new guy so yesterday morning I called up my GP, Dr.J. and got an appointment. She and I have this great relationship, where we finish each other's sentences....and as soon as I told her I had insomnia and was waking up early, but I was tired---she said "And you're wondering if it's your thyroid?" And I laughed because she knew exactly! I went for a blood test, results maybe back today late afternoon, maybe tomorrow morning.

This also explains my altered gestational diabetes test incidentally. I go for the retest Thursday and we'll see if it comes up abnormal again. If my thyroid is off, it messes up my blood sugar. If my thyroid isn't off, and it all shows up normal again, and my GTT is still abnormal then I don't know what the heck to do.

Good news is, I have a new fridge coming, and a new washer and dryer, and even a new Dyson animal vacuum cleaner!!! Weeeeeeeeeee!!!! Yep, I finally mustered up the courage to do it! They come Friday.

Off to take another nap. If I can't sleep, maybe I can rest a bit before the kids get home from hockey camp. Yawn.....

I should be doing something else right now

Like repackaging meat we just bought at Costco or tidying up things around the house for the dinner party tonight, or putting away clothes.

I just really don't have the energy for it, you know?

I was supposed to buy a new set of appliances for the kitchen and a vacuum and washing machine dryer set....all things we need, (our current fridge is over 25 years old....half-dead) and really simple when someone else delivers them, but I barely have any energy to get to a store and figure out how to buy them. And I'm sure if I'm spending that much money the salesman will gladly wheel me around and carry me back to my car, but just putting on my boots is hard right now.

I mustered up some to take the Boys shopping for their Dad's birthday, and we got him a nice spring/fall jacket, a classic one he has wanted for years but wouldn't buy himself, and although he loves it he is horrified by the price and insists I return it. (This meanwhile from a man who never buys himself anything nice or new, always on a discount, and we can afford something nice finally.) I swear, he is the living embodiment of Catholic self-flagellation....hair shirts are his specialty. He wants the kids to have the best possible education and opportunities, but thinks he should wear clothes with holes.....and I won't return it dammit! He deserves something nice.

Besides, that would require going all the way back to the store.....just thinking about it is tiring me.

I found a couple of bites on my body, or else they are teeny tiny hives, or else they are mysterious signs of morgellons....I think I'd rather have that than bedbugs....and after all the hotel travel my husband has done in the last month or so, I'm terrified the little bastards have made it into our home. The organizer is coming tomorrow and maybe we'll get somewhere with our room and the rest of the boys' rooms. I need to chuck a serious amount of stuff before we can do any painting or move in any new furniture. No room for a repair guy or a painter to even walk in the rooms right now.

Maybe she can help me figure out if we have bedbugs or I'm just paranoid and have developed pimples in odd places, in which case I guess I'm back to my shrink. At minimum she's going to declutter our bedroom so the disgusting things can't hide from the new dyson I want to buy. Yeah, if I ever get to the damn store.....

*Updated* this post got interupted so I'm just finishing it late - Dinner party was a disaster, remind me to go out for dinner to restaurants from now until the baby is a year old. Fuck hosting. Thank God it was only family, they don't give a toss if the sauce curdled and the veggies were rock hard. Right?*

Yawn....never been this run down during a pregnancy before....ever. Growing this baby is sucking every ounce of energy right out of me. Nighty-night.

Warming up to the idea?

So I'm getting some perspective on the whole school thing. A bunch of other parents have been applying and getting replies from schools as well. (This is the time of year for it) Anyway, not every kid has gotten in. Most have, but not all.

Some have been wait listed, and some have been turned down flat. Others did not apply in time, or the application got messed up due to late letters of reference coming from third parties, issues with faxes, deliveries, etc. There are some somber faces around the school these days, and those of us who have reason to celebrate probably shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth I guess.

See here in TO we have a weird situation school-wise. There is a very wide variation in the quality of public schools due to funding issues but also due to the way schools have organized themselves. Unless you live in the catchment for a really good all round school, you need to apply for a special program like an arts school, or a French immersion program, or an International Baccaluerate program, or Science/Math program or whatever, (there is a huge list of options available.) And that has to be done months ago for Grade 9 entry. This is free mind you, but it's complicated and can even be done by lottery if there are too many qualified kids and not enough spots. Alternatively, you can buy a house in a good catchment to get your kid in, or you can fake rent an apartment from someone who lives in catchment and go crazy changing your driver's license and your health card and everything, in a desperate attempt to prove where you live.

So lots of parents give up on the whole public mess and go private, and in elementary, most kids can be admitted if a big enough tuition is offered. (The irony by the way, is that because at private elementary schools your kid goes all day and can stay until 5:00, for the early years private school is cheaper than daycare or nannies or babysitters for working women. Whoops, I forgot, according to the idiots who structured the education system, 2 1/2 hours a day of school in kindergarten is okay, and 6 hours of elementary is fine because all of us women are required to be home baking freakin' cookies....do you know how bizarre it is to get into a debate with someone who sends their kid to public school and pays for aftercare and spends money on tutoring programs and when we add up the money they spend on the supposed "public system" they spend more than we do per year? Nonsensical....)

Regardless as your kid gets older you can't just pay and get them in, they have to qualify by writing tests and showing decent marks on their previous report cards. They need references and they need to be able to show that they can actually perform in school. And although there are lots of private schools in the GTA there are not that many good schools that are worth the money.

So it's something that has to be planned a bit, not quite like New York, but not quite as laisser-faire as London, and this kind of thing happens in the suburbs and rural areas as well in Canada by the way, it's just that people have fewer choices the further out in the country they get....I know most of my readers think the hard part is getting pregnant and having live babies, but damn, raising them is pretty complicated these days as well.

Figuring out child care, and health issues, and getting them into programs like swimming and summer camps, and sports, and helping them with friends, and girls, and learning disabilities, and all....I don't care what anyone says, it's a lot more difficult than it was years ago.

Like swimming? I got up at 6 am the other day to organize them getting registered online for city swimming lessons. It's dramatically cheaper than private swim clubs, but actually getting them in is a nightmare. I know people who line up at 2 am at the community centre to get a spot for their kid, and others who line up multiple computers and phone lines and click madly away at 7 am sharp trying to be the first in line. Never used to be this way, until tax cuts killed off extra classes. People could just register whenever, and in some neighbourhoods, like most of the downtown core, it was free. There were lots of options. Now what the hell do people do who don't have computers? Or who can't line up at 2 am because they are single moms and have no one to stay with a sleeping kid? Or who don't have the money to register for even the cheapest lessons?

I have to start getting them registered for summer camps now and I may have missed the window for some of the best ones....and when 37 cm of snow is falling I'm just not inspired to think about summer AT ALL. Logically I know this is the perfect time, God willing I'll have a healthy newborn to look after and I know Kaz and Mac will be bored sitting around all summer in the air conditioning and watch me breastfeed, so I have to do something with them----but ohh crap, I don't feel like even thinking about it right now.

So maybe I'll just contemplate the school stuff. I guess.

Maybe not. Maybe I need a nap instead.

Better and worse

Heartburn - better - all hail Zantac. I may try another kind later, but so far so good.

Steroid shots - lovely Dr.J. gave me one small one in each upper arm, (you don't have to get them in the ass!!!) and the second one was given today by my OB, who said that he couldn't bruise my arms twice, but oh well, he's actually pretty good at this so it didn't hurt too much.

(Many thanks btw to everyone who offered to help with the shots, luckily it worked out, but I sure wouldn't mind if we all got together someday, just to hang and have dinner, no need to see my ass or anything!)

BP is still normal, but I found some protein in my urine on the dipstick, probably because of the crappy food and lack of sleep and see the bit below about the fight....it might just be a false positive, I'm getting to pee on more sticks next time, maybe do some bloods.

Gestational diabetes test - flunked by a whisper. Normal upper range for the one hour test is 7.5, and I scored 8.2. Shit....now I have to redo it as the 2 hour ordeal with a 12 hour fast. And I think I even know why I flunked. I had a couple of snacks that morning and breakfast plus a Soy Tazo Chai Latte at S*bucks and filled it with a couple of sugars, etc. No fasting, so what the hell, right? Why not treat myself? Except for how it turned out, duh. Also, no one had told me that any drugs beyond the injectable steroids could cause a false positive, but it turns out that hydrazaline (the anti-itch stuff) can, and I had been trying it out as a safe version of a sleeping pill on the recommendation of my shrink. Or it could be the progesterone suppositories, which can also lead to false positives, (the shots can rarely lead to actually causing GD, bizarrely). Anyway, I'll go off of the hydrazaline and try something else, but I need to stay on the progesterone to keep my cervix together, so I'm a little nervous. I might just skip it for the night before or something then make up the dose. And I'm laughing at the diet they handed me. I actually eat better than this most of the time, lots better. The occasional treat notwithstanding I'm a bit of a health freak and now they want me to eat worse? Not quite...again the assumption that every woman with GD is drinking 10 cokes a day and a box of twinkies. Yep, big ol' bunch of bad mommies aren't we? sigh....

Bit of a large fight with hubby---Kaz got into that school he applied to before Christmas and I really didn't think he'd get in, so I didn't object enough then, and now I may be stuck! Mr.Cotta is so enthused you'd think it was that ridiculous sleepaway camp he sent Kaz to last year, you know, the one that turned into an utter disaster? Meanwhile, Kaz is being incredibly immature about his homework, and frankly, driving me a bit nuts with his tantrums over nothing. He is not ready for a big school, and he is not ready to take total responsibility for his schoolwork.

But once again, I'm going to get steamrolled and this will be a disaster and I will be right once again but can't say it and my poor husband will really lose it this time. He dreams that his kid can be just like him, but he can't, Kaz is his own person, with his own likes and dislikes.

It just kills me to see this happen over and over again. My husband is the single most enthusiastic guy on earth as far as his kids. He is convinced they have perfect character and perfect faith and no illnesses and no problems. He thinks I just overemphasize the issues and if I would just stop talking about it all the time, it would all go away. I prefer to think of myself as realistic. I think my kids are wonderful, fabulous human beings, with feet of clay. Faults, even. Occasional illnesses and some learning disabilities which don't have to stop them if we find the right way to help them.

Anyway, he ends up very disappointed sometimes. My heart breaks for him. I just hope that I can find a way to work it for my husband and maybe even work it out for my son. (And it's supposed to be about him, right?)

Oh yeah, and somehow I have to do this while in the middle of dealing with a high-risk pregnancy and maybe a newborn, hopefully a full-term healthy one....gee, anyone wonder if I need this stress right now?

I guess no-one in real life figured it out, or there wouldn't be a massive family birthday dinner party we are hosting this weekend, and we wouldn't be hosting Easter dinner for like 20 people either. Still don't know how that one happened.....

got my wish

Got my wish from the previous post....you know how I mentioned that my heartburn was bad. Well, it's accelerated. A lot.

I've been having trouble lying down flat recently since it means that I will get heartburn/acid reflux/burning screaming pain, yadda yadda....I had it with Kaz, and Mac near the end of my pregnancy, maybe in the 8th-9th month. Mostly because I'm tiny and I have big babies who like to kick the tar out of their mom's stomach.

Kicking is good for Dinkypie, kicking me so forcefully that last night I vomited in my sleep with gale force action---not so good. Overkill one might say. I know you are still in utero little guy, but do you think you could learn some subtlety? Gentle grace towards your mother? Sigh....

I barely made it to the bathroom in time, okay technically it was a wastebasket, but still. No carpets were damaged in the bizarre portrayal of a naked pregnant woman suddenly bolting upright out of her sleep and running for her life.

And yeah, I'm six and half months pregnant now, a fact I have to remind everyone of when they ask, "So when IS that baby due?" and the other great one, "Are you sure there's only one in there?" or the best...."Wow, you're going to be as wide as you are tall!"

Yah...the next time that gets said, I swear I'm going to cut his nuts off in his sleep. Not that any of you can guess WHO keeps saying that....

So far, it seems to be all boobs and stomach, and just a little padding everywhere else, but that will change. And just like before, I'll be skinny again afterwards, give it 6 months to a year of breastfeeding aka liposuction and I'll lose it.

I know I'm going to be larger than I was with the last baby I went full term on, and I know it's inevitable that this would happen. Hell, I know that right now, in a crowd, I look like the prow of a cruise ship cutting through the waves. At this point, my uterus enters the room a full five minutes before I do. My OB sent me for my gestational diabetes test weeks earlier than normal because he was so shocked at my size. Tomorrow my GP who is discreet and kind beyond measure will see me to give me a steroid shot and she will be unable to hide the look on her face. I'm twice as large as my kid's piano teacher, who is 3 weeks from her due date, a fact that she keeps pointing out.

I GET IT. I'M REALLY LARGE, OKAY?

I'M NOT SURE I NEED ANYONE TO POINT THAT OUT TO ME AGAIN.

Oh and for those of you who think that I'm complaining about the size I have become, I'm not. I'm complaining about the people who say things about my size. Getting a ginormous tummy in pregnancy is normal and hopefully means I'm growing a nice healthy full-size baby. I'm calling the Doc and getting some Zantac or Prilosec or whatever, and if I have to sleep bolt upright for the next three months, then I guess I will. Not fun, but less painful than lying down. I've tried Tums and Gaviscon and low acid food and none of it did much, so it's time to haul out the big guns and get a proton pump inhibitor.

And maybe some duct tape for a few smart alecks in the crowd?

I'm here

I've just had a rough week and rather than blogging endlessly about it, I've been laying low. I've written several raving insane posts and then NOT published them. Be grateful, you'd wonder if I was the one who should be in the psych ward if you read them. Bad side, cleaning lady never showed up and I've had to do a lot of tidying myself, cleaning any household items lower than three feet from the floor isn't possible with my heartburn and exhaustion. Good side, my cardiologist gave me a clean bill of health and noted that although I've had some episodes of V-Tach they are pretty normal for my pattern and not serious. I'm going back in two months for another check.

Bigger bad side, in the last week, some unfortunate things have happened between my BIL and my husband and my BIL is getting a bit worse, and my husband is really upset, and of course, we've ended up arguing about the best way to handle it. Mostly because we both feel helpless and have no idea what to do. As a result I feel kind of sick, lots of vague pain and cramping and tiredness, but yes the baby is still kicking away. Emotionally, I react one way, and he reacts completely differently.

Funny thing is, we both react the way we did to crisis when we were growing up. We go for the familiar, not for what is best for us or for each other. We both know it, and after years of therapy we both fight it, but really, isn't it weird the way humans just endlessly repeat the patterns of our lives over and over again, knowing it doesn't help us, knowing how incredibly destructive it is for us, and yet----we fly towards the familiar like moths to a flame. Children of alcoholics marry alcoholics or other children of alcoholics, children who grew up being abused pick spouses or partners who have abusive personalities and even abuse them, children who grew up with rigid controlling parents, or emotionally distant ones grow up and become the same kind of parent, and marry the same kind of partner, all without ever recognizing what is happening. (And yes, the good patterns happen too, and sometimes happy accidents where a fucked up person meets and nice person and gets some healing. This is rare, due to fact that everyone on earth is fucked up to some degree. We are all the walking wounded people.)

It's not just DNA or neurochemicals or genes that determine our future, or random chance or luck or what have you, it's the desperate desire to feel like we're at home. Home in this definition, is whatever we grew up with, even if it was poverty or chaos, or adrenaline filled terror. Even the people like me, who spend years in therapy, and grow up vowing to never ever recreate the way we grew up can barely escape it. It takes every ounce of energy to not follow our instincts to fuck up our relationships, our families, our children.

I, for example, am an expert at driving people away. Good people that is. The better they are for me, the more I shit on them. Like my husband? If there is something I can do to piss him off and make him hate me, it will take a superhuman effort on my part NOT to do it. You see, I sincerely believe that I am worthless and in the end will be left all alone and with not a soul to love me or take care of me, just like when I was growing up, so what do I do? I try to make it come true. To my deeply fucked well-trained brain, he's going to leave me someday anyway, so why not get the pain over with now, right? Just rip that band-aid off!!

(As an aside, this is why I'm never surprised when foster kids or kids adopted later in life act up in a safe secure environment for years on end sometimes. Cause, hey, safe isn't normal, right?)

When every person you love ends up abandoning you, or dying, or disappearing, it's the norm, and the norm feels right, and when there are people left milling around in your life and still here, it feels not normal. It feels odd to be loved.

This past couple of weeks it feels odd to have him come back, it feels odd to still be pregnant with a live baby, and it feels odd to have living kids who still love me and aren't leaving me and are healthy and relatively normal. It feels odd to have a clean organized house and it feels odd to have clean laundry, and it feels odd to have food in the fridge and money in the bank.

I feel uncomfortable in my own skin. Quick someone---make something bad happen. I'm not sure how much more I can take.