Scare February 24, 2009

I had my first real pregnancy scare this week. Sunday night Mike and I went out to dinner with some friends for an annual restaurant week excursion.  After we got home I started having cramps.  I thought maybe I was going to have some intestinal issues, and since I don’t like to talk about such things (but have actually become much more comfortable talking about them since being pregnant) I didn’t say anything.  I think I fell asleep for about an hour, but was up at 3:30 when Mike woke up and I told him I had cramps.  By that time I had realized there was nothing intestinal going on, and it felt like menstrual cramps.  I was planning on calling the midwife first thing in the morning, but he talked me into calling at 3:30 in the morning.  Partly I couldn’t sleep because of the pain, but partly I was worried that something bad was going on in there.

The midwife said that based on what I was describing, she wasn’t too worried (cramps were constant and I wasn’t having contractions or any other signs of going into labor) and said maybe the baby was just having a growth spurt and putting added pressure on my uterus.  I was able to get another hour or two of sleep after that.  Monday I was a little lethargic and not feeling a whole lot better, so I called to see at what point I should start being concerned. (As if I hadn’t started already…) They said I should come in today if I wasn’t feeling better.

This morning I had to go to court to testify at a preliminary hearing against the homeless man who was apparently living in our basement and stole our bikes (and our laundry detergent, interestingly) and was feeling a little better, but not 100%.  So I went in to the midwife this afternoon and met a new midwife with crazy Mormon hair (you know what I mean?  Long straight hair with the crazy curls up-and-away from her face in the front?) who called me “Steph” as soon as she met me (a pet-peeve).  She checked the baby’s heartbeat, which was fine, checked my cervix, which was “soft-ish” but fully closed, and said that everything looked fine.  She didn’t have an explanation, but at least I know my cervix isn’t dilating and nothing seems to be wrong with the baby. 

So, I ditched out on book club tonight to stay home and rest.  Hopefully I’ll be feeling better enough by the weekend to continue with our party on Saturday.  I invited 26 people over (whoops!) for turkey – I have to pick up the turkeys (!) tomorrow at Whole Foods – so hopefully I won’t have to cancel on everyone.  I’ll just take it easy between now and then.

Trimester the third February 20, 2009

As of today I am officially into the third trimester.  Hallelujah!  I could not have even imagined this when I found out I was pregnant back in September.  It was too much to hope for to even get as far as the second trimester.  Time has definitely been going by faster since then.   Everything looks good – the baby’s heartbeat yesterday was 145, my belly was measuring just right, my weight gain is apparently just right (despite the many donuts and other sweet, fatty goodies that I have been consuming in the last several months – what?  baby needs them.), and all is well.  It is amazing to me to think that he looks like himself in there and is pretty much fully developed – just needs some fattening up (see: donuts) and a little more cooking time before being ready to greet the world in May.

I’ve been feeling him move more and more.  I do get a little nervous when I haven’t felt him in a while.  I know it’s okay, but I feel a little uneasy untilI feel him move again.  One night I was pushing my stomach around trying to get him to move because I was afraid maybe I overdid it a little at the gym (I kept my heartrate at an appropriate level, but I was slightly overheated). He kicked and I felt better.

World War 3 with my brother seems to be over.  It did take a while to resolve itself.  After he called me a bitch, told me he was happy that I was upset and told me where to shove my “suggestions” he wrote again, a little more conciliatory.  I got off my chest everything I needed to, he apologized, I apologized, and now we’re probably back where we were a few years ago – trying to at least tolerate each other, but not really making any effort to be friends.  Maybe I will send him the ultrasound pictures, though.  That might be a good gesture on my part.   Maybe I should also re-friend him on Facebook… and just see about blocking whatever content from him I can.  (I heard that is possible but haven’t investigated.)

Mike called this morning to tell me that he actually got a raise this year and a significant bonus.  We thought wih this economy and his overall company not doing that great he may not get a bonus at all.  So it is really exciting!  This will likely enable us to buy a house sometime this year.  I think our goal is to at the very least enjoy one more summer in the city and then maybe move as early as the fall.  We’ll have to start thinking about where we might want to move – a suburb that is far enough west to make his commute better without being too far from our friends who are still in the city, and without going all the way out to somewhere like Naperville, which to me is suburban hell.  I need a place that has some character and isn’t all chain stores and strip malls.  Hopefully we’ll find something in our (still pretty modest) price range in a place that is liveable. 

After a couple of really rough years, this seems to be shaping up to be another good one, maybe as good as 2005 and 2006.  I don’t want to jinx myself by saying that, but the year is full of promise.  A new baby, maybe a new home that we will OWN and the beginning of our own little family unit. 

I am counting down now – just 12 weeks until baby’s EDD.  My brother and I were both very late – I was three weeks late and he was at least 2 before my mom was induced (good thing because he was 9 lb 12 oz even then).  So, I am not counting on it being just 12 weeks from now, but at least that gives me a good estimate.  I’ll probably be working another 6-8 weeks, and then will have some time to relax and knit and walk on the lakefront (by April I should be able to do that fairly consistently).  I can’t wait.

A Fully Formed Baby February 11, 2009

I am still upset (day 3 of my anger) about the whole Ace thing – but at least I got to vent to Mike this morning (he has been away in NY since this came to light).  My mom, in an e-mail yesterday, told me she thought it was a nice connection between my “Ace” and his uncle.  Ugh.  I am not looking for there to be a lot of connections betwen those two.  If I was a bigger person, I could let this go, but it doesn’t look like that is happening.

 

However, that isn’t what I wanted to write about this time, despite the fact that it is still on my mind.  I’ve been wanting to write about how excited I am to be just weeks away from meeting our baby – well, 13 weeks, but that is still so close compared to where we were a year ago or 9 months ago when we thought we might never meet our baby.  I get so excited when I try to picture him – likely with dark hair and Asian features – he probably will look nothing like me.  It is certainly possible that he may have lighter hair, but in all likelihood it won’t be red like mine – I think that is almost an impossibility.  Anyway, I try to picture him and I picture myself holding him right after he is born and I get so happy and excited. 

Watching all this coverage of the octuplets in California and their batshit crazy mother (another post for another day!) I realize that our baby is almost as big as those babies that are in the NICU.  He is just as fully formed – just needs to put on some weight.  It is startling to realize that he looks like himself already, and has fingernails and hair and eyelashes, even if we can’t see him. 

In a week and two days I’ll be into the third trimester.  I have been very comfortable in the second, and loving my growing belly, especially now that I have been able to go to yoga and the gym and don’t just feel like I am gaining fat that I’ll never lose, but actually feel like it is all about the baby.  I am not avoiding gaining fat – I know I need that for breastfeeding, but it just feels much better to be able to get out there and work up a bit of a sweat (while still keeping my heartrate around 140, just as I have been instructed).

Thirteen weeks and counting.  I can’t wait.

Asshole February 10, 2009

Ever since Christmas we have been referring to the baby as “Ace”.  It came from a discussion with some of my cousins, one of whom suggested, jokingly, the name Horace, or Ace for short.  But, I actually really like the name Ace.  I don’t think we’ll really use it, but that has been his nickname for the last 6 weeks or so.  So, it was a big surprise to me when yesterday that same cousin wrote on my Facebook wall “Philip got a dog and named him Ace?  I might have to defriend him!”.  Well, I have already defriended my brother after avoiding him and then giving in.  He kept joining all these gun groups (including “I own a Lugerl, so don’t fuck with me” – I swear that is the real name of the group) and sending ridiculous, juvenile (he’s fucking 30 years old!), stupid posts.  I just couldn’t take it – I have never been adept at ignoring him.  So, I still don’t know if this is true.  I sent a message to my mom to ask and to Philip himself to find out, but neither has responded.  I wonder if it is the hormones that have me all worked up about this, but I am PISSED.  Why would he use the name we have been using for our SON and call his DOG that!?  Maybe because he wasn’t creative enough to come up with his own name.  I admit, it is kind of a good dog name, but don’t we already kind of have a claim on this? 

That was what was bothering me last night, keeping me up past midnight stewing about it.  Then this morning I have been stewing about it some more, and I have come to the conclusion (not for the first time) that I really hate my brother.  Yikes.  It sounds harsh.  But it is true.  If I were to say that to Mike or my parents or anyone, I think they would make me feel like I am the bad person for hating him.  But, how is it that I am the bad person when HE is the one that aimed a loaded gun at me and chased me to my room when I was 14 and he was 12?  (The reason I went to boarding school in the first place – to get away from him.)  I don’t recall him being punished, he has never apologized, and I don’t think he is sorry. He was the one that stole the keys to my car when  was 18 and made a copy so that he could drive my car whenever he wanted and I wasn’t around (and laughed and laughed about it last Christmas).  I am not the one who was BRAGGING this Christmas to the cute girl behind the bar about when he was in jail – recently!  Not sure if my mom is aware of that one – I certainly wasn’t.  I wasn’t the one who hid a bong in my sister’s room when I was in high school, or hid a disgusting, racist cartoon that I drew. 

He is the one who is a disgusting human being and has no concern for any one else – he has terrible social skills, table manners, and every other kind of manners.  And I am the one who is a bad person for hating him?  What an asshole.