About 5 weeks before my due date, I decided that if the baby came early that would be just fine. Glorious even. I mean, do they really need to "cook" for 40 whole weeks? My theory was confirmed when we went to our 36 week sonogram and the baby was measuring at 40 weeks. Well, at least his head was, and isn't that the most important part both in the delivery and in respect to the health of the fetus? They told us he was about 7 pounds at that time. I didn't quite hyperventilate as Joe asked the doctor how big was he going to be and she responded, "Oh, 12 or 13 pounds." Note to doctors: Giant baby jokes are not very funny at 36 weeks.
The days trickled by and I kept gaining weight. I didn't quite break the 200 pound mark, but I flirted with it. Pretty soon, I was approaching that 40 week mark. At about week 39, I decided to start to try to walk. Walking can induce labor. So can pineapple, so I ate a bunch of that. The walking was not a simple feat. I made it around a block. It was painful the whole way. My left hip felt like I'd walked 10 miles on an uneven road. I decided to just wait it out. I didn't think it would be much longer. I had been dilated at 4 cm for 2 weeks. Surely, that was a sign.
It was not.
Friday, July 27, 2012. That was my due date.
On Thursday, July 26th, I felt miserable and work was especially trying. I decided to let Joe work for me on Friday. My 40 week OB appointment was at 3:00 pm and I was planning to rest up a bit. I had been sleeping on the couch for weeks and never for more than 4 or 5 hours at a time most nights. Joe left for work a little after 8:00. I was awake, but not up and going at that time. I got up around 8:30 and went to the bathroom. As I was leaning forward to get up, I felt my water break.
I thought.
Maybe.
Probably.
So, I Googled it. God bless them internets.
I sent Joe a text
I'm not entirely sure my water didn't just break.
His response
How can you not know?
My response
I've never done this before!
So, I called the OB office. They said to head to the hospital. So, I called my mom.
Joe and I got to the hospital around 10:00 am.
On Friday, July 27, 2012.
The nurses were waiting for me. I was ushered to a delivery room on my due date. It was confirmed that I was in labor. On my due date.
Weird.
Friday, October 12, 2012
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Hospital Trip #1
I am and always have been a poor drinker. Not in the ways of alcohol, but in the ways of 8 glasses a day. Yesterday, I felt a little woozy first thing at work. I took my pulse and it was 120. I drank some water and felt somewhat better. However, my brain seemed a bit scrambled and I still felt a little wacko. Well, a little more than normal, so I went home after half a day.
At about 4:15 I decided to be a responsible adult and checked with my doctor who promptly told me to go have it checked at the emergency room. I suppose I should have anticipated that response, but it caught me off guard. So, as soon as he got home, Joe took me to the hospital. It was the first time I had ever gone to the emergency room. They took me up to labor and delivery in the most uncomfortable wheelchair known to man.
They put me in a triage room behind curtain #1 and hooked me up to about 57 machines. The Wee Baby Seamus did not appreciate the fetal monitor belt thing and began to kick up a storm. They got us both nominally comfortable and then we waited. As we waited, we had a bit of entertainment from the patient behind curtain #2.
She explained that she did not know her due date because she wasn't sure of her last period. She was sure it was over before she'd gotten out of jail. She was having contractions about every 3 minutes and we got to hear some cussing. We also learned that she was on baby #6 and that the baby's daddy had cheated on her but he was the last dude she'd had sex with. She was mad because the nurses and doctors couldn't tell her what her exact due date was and she might be at 6 months or she might be at nine months. She also wouldn't commit to a doctor's appointment in a week because she might not be able to make it.
Not long after the monitors got strapped to me, the med student came and added a heart monitor and listened to my heart a bit. Then the resident came and told me they were gonna give me fluids. I got my first IV.
They then hosed the first bag into me in about 4 seconds. At about 8 seconds, I had to pee. Shocking. I am pretty sure the dude carrying the pizza down the hall saw more of me than I had ever thought to share with a dude carrying a pizza down a hall.
Shortly after the nurse got me repositioned so they could again monitor Seamus and myself, the resident came in and asked if had felt or was aware of the contractions I had been having. I informed her that I was not aware.
So, I got to experience a speculum. That was definitely not on my to-do list yesterday. About halfway through that fun, Joe informed me that "There's a party in your crotch." Giggling while having a vaginal exam was also not on the list.
They fed me some cheese and grapes and started another bag of fluids before deciding that everything was completely fine. They told me to increase my liquid intake and I did get one major restriction. No more caffeine. That will really improve my mood here for the third trimester.
Things I Learned:
Wheelchairs are not built for short people.
Hospital gowns are pretty pointless.
You feel 18 gauge needles go into your arm.
Annoying roommates get you $5 gift certificates for food.
Humor is lost on doctors.
At about 4:15 I decided to be a responsible adult and checked with my doctor who promptly told me to go have it checked at the emergency room. I suppose I should have anticipated that response, but it caught me off guard. So, as soon as he got home, Joe took me to the hospital. It was the first time I had ever gone to the emergency room. They took me up to labor and delivery in the most uncomfortable wheelchair known to man.
They put me in a triage room behind curtain #1 and hooked me up to about 57 machines. The Wee Baby Seamus did not appreciate the fetal monitor belt thing and began to kick up a storm. They got us both nominally comfortable and then we waited. As we waited, we had a bit of entertainment from the patient behind curtain #2.
She explained that she did not know her due date because she wasn't sure of her last period. She was sure it was over before she'd gotten out of jail. She was having contractions about every 3 minutes and we got to hear some cussing. We also learned that she was on baby #6 and that the baby's daddy had cheated on her but he was the last dude she'd had sex with. She was mad because the nurses and doctors couldn't tell her what her exact due date was and she might be at 6 months or she might be at nine months. She also wouldn't commit to a doctor's appointment in a week because she might not be able to make it.
Not long after the monitors got strapped to me, the med student came and added a heart monitor and listened to my heart a bit. Then the resident came and told me they were gonna give me fluids. I got my first IV.
 |
| My first IV. |
They then hosed the first bag into me in about 4 seconds. At about 8 seconds, I had to pee. Shocking. I am pretty sure the dude carrying the pizza down the hall saw more of me than I had ever thought to share with a dude carrying a pizza down a hall.
Shortly after the nurse got me repositioned so they could again monitor Seamus and myself, the resident came in and asked if had felt or was aware of the contractions I had been having. I informed her that I was not aware.
So, I got to experience a speculum. That was definitely not on my to-do list yesterday. About halfway through that fun, Joe informed me that "There's a party in your crotch." Giggling while having a vaginal exam was also not on the list.
They fed me some cheese and grapes and started another bag of fluids before deciding that everything was completely fine. They told me to increase my liquid intake and I did get one major restriction. No more caffeine. That will really improve my mood here for the third trimester.
Things I Learned:
Wheelchairs are not built for short people.
Hospital gowns are pretty pointless.
You feel 18 gauge needles go into your arm.
Annoying roommates get you $5 gift certificates for food.
Humor is lost on doctors.
Friday, April 27, 2012
Pregnancy is Soooooo Weird - Part Two
The good.
1. Big Boobs/Cleavage.
I have them. Need I say more.
2. Comfy Clothes.
Everything I can fit into is either a t-shirt knit or has an elastic waistband. It is very much like wearing pajamas all day every day. I refuse to spend hundreds of dollars on "maternity" clothes when t-shirt dresses and leggings look better anyway!
3. Food!
Everything is delicious. Not that I have ever had any trouble finding something to eat... However, even the most blah food is hitting the spot. And that spot seems to need hitting about every 2 or 3 hours.
4. Attention.
I never really thought of myself as an attention-whore. It is nice to be intriguing. And, what's more intriguing than pregnancy. Ok, a lot of stuff is more intriguing than pregnancy, but it seems to be working for me.
The Bad.
1. Big boobs/Cleavage.
I have them. I am no longer comfortable when not wearing a bra. My bra stabs me.
2. Drugs are Bad, Mmmkay.
I can't take anything good. I am not supposed to have excess (or really any) caffeine which really limits my Mt. Dew intake. After I have my one singular cup of coffee in the morning, I then have to pee approximately ninety-seven times before noon.
I can take Tylenol when I have a headache. When I have a migraine, I can take Tylenol. Yippee (sarcasm). For a cold, I can take Sudafed. I choose to sleep. A lot. The Benadryll helps.
3. Sleep.
A lot of it seems required. Bedtime used to be 11:30 or midnight. Bedtime is now any time after dinner. I do try to wait until at least 8:00pm to crash so that I don't wake up at 5:00am. Also, I haven't slept through the night since before I even knew I was knocked up. Currently, I am up at least twice every night. That is the minimum. I am not sure what my record is yet. Five times, six?
4. The Gas.
Joe is not amused.
5. Stamina.
I have little to none. This is really hampering my spring gardening, housework, shopping, and baby preparations. I seem to find the energy to cook, however.
The Just Plain Odd.
1. Stalkers.
I have a few people who come to see me just to see what I look like with a "baby bump."
2. Kicks.
The Wee Baby Seamus kicks me. It feels weird. It is especially weird when he manages to make my bladder Zing. Sometimes it is more of a clawing from the inside feeling. You have all seen the horror movies where something (usually an alien) is inside someone. You can see it pushing around just under the skin. I now know what that feels like.
1. Big Boobs/Cleavage.
I have them. Need I say more.
2. Comfy Clothes.
Everything I can fit into is either a t-shirt knit or has an elastic waistband. It is very much like wearing pajamas all day every day. I refuse to spend hundreds of dollars on "maternity" clothes when t-shirt dresses and leggings look better anyway!
 |
| Muumuus are hot, right? |
3. Food!
Everything is delicious. Not that I have ever had any trouble finding something to eat... However, even the most blah food is hitting the spot. And that spot seems to need hitting about every 2 or 3 hours.
 |
| A typical meal. |
4. Attention.
I never really thought of myself as an attention-whore. It is nice to be intriguing. And, what's more intriguing than pregnancy. Ok, a lot of stuff is more intriguing than pregnancy, but it seems to be working for me.
The Bad.
1. Big boobs/Cleavage.
I have them. I am no longer comfortable when not wearing a bra. My bra stabs me.
2. Drugs are Bad, Mmmkay.
I can't take anything good. I am not supposed to have excess (or really any) caffeine which really limits my Mt. Dew intake. After I have my one singular cup of coffee in the morning, I then have to pee approximately ninety-seven times before noon.
I can take Tylenol when I have a headache. When I have a migraine, I can take Tylenol. Yippee (sarcasm). For a cold, I can take Sudafed. I choose to sleep. A lot. The Benadryll helps.
3. Sleep.
A lot of it seems required. Bedtime used to be 11:30 or midnight. Bedtime is now any time after dinner. I do try to wait until at least 8:00pm to crash so that I don't wake up at 5:00am. Also, I haven't slept through the night since before I even knew I was knocked up. Currently, I am up at least twice every night. That is the minimum. I am not sure what my record is yet. Five times, six?
4. The Gas.
Joe is not amused.
5. Stamina.
I have little to none. This is really hampering my spring gardening, housework, shopping, and baby preparations. I seem to find the energy to cook, however.
The Just Plain Odd.
1. Stalkers.
I have a few people who come to see me just to see what I look like with a "baby bump."
2. Kicks.
The Wee Baby Seamus kicks me. It feels weird. It is especially weird when he manages to make my bladder Zing. Sometimes it is more of a clawing from the inside feeling. You have all seen the horror movies where something (usually an alien) is inside someone. You can see it pushing around just under the skin. I now know what that feels like.
 |
| Aww! |
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Define "Dollop"
Right this minute, I have a meatloaf in the oven. It was mixed up according to directions from Grandma Lois.
She is an amazing meatloaf chef. In fact, it may be my favorite meal she makes. Forget her Thanksgiving turkey or the epic mushroom feast she lays on us in the spring. Her meatloaf is legendary. And, she told me how to make it the last time I had it at her house. I have since made it a couple of times. It is nowhere near her version. That is because she really has no idea how she makes it. No she is neither senile nor in the grips of Alzheimer's. She cooks in the "dollop" method.
What in the name of Mel Brooks is a dollop you ask?
Well, that depends on the recipe...
I called her once to verify and clarify how to make apple salad dressing and to get the proper ingredients and amounts. It went something like this.
Karen: "Hey, Grandma! I am trying to make apple salad. What the heck goes in the dressing besides peanut butter and Miracle Whip?"
Grandma: "Sugar and sometimes a little milk."
Karen: "Ok, I have the sugar in it, but it looks weird. How much of each should I use?"
Grandma: "Oh, a dollop of Miracle Whip and a dollop of peanut butter."
Karen: "Oh, ok. So...equal amounts?"
Grandma: "Oh, no!"
Karen: "Ok, so how much?"
Grandma: "No more than a tablespoon or so of peanut butter and about a half cup or more of Miracle Whip."
You can see where the confusion comes in.
The apple salad dressing was a bit wonky-looking, but it tasted fine.
The meatloaf I baked was edible and quite tasty, yet I can't seem to get anywhere near her meatloaf. I must make the trip to rural Avon and study the technique. Not that it will help. I swear she knows magic or spells or has a secret ingredient she slips in when no one is looking. I suppose it could be the 70 plus years of experience she has. My paltry 20 years of cooking experience pales against her skill.
And don't get me started on her coleslaw. Epic, I tell you!
 |
| Grandma Lois |
What in the name of Mel Brooks is a dollop you ask?
Well, that depends on the recipe...
I called her once to verify and clarify how to make apple salad dressing and to get the proper ingredients and amounts. It went something like this.
Karen: "Hey, Grandma! I am trying to make apple salad. What the heck goes in the dressing besides peanut butter and Miracle Whip?"
Grandma: "Sugar and sometimes a little milk."
Karen: "Ok, I have the sugar in it, but it looks weird. How much of each should I use?"
Grandma: "Oh, a dollop of Miracle Whip and a dollop of peanut butter."
Karen: "Oh, ok. So...equal amounts?"
Grandma: "Oh, no!"
Karen: "Ok, so how much?"
Grandma: "No more than a tablespoon or so of peanut butter and about a half cup or more of Miracle Whip."
You can see where the confusion comes in.
The apple salad dressing was a bit wonky-looking, but it tasted fine.
The meatloaf I baked was edible and quite tasty, yet I can't seem to get anywhere near her meatloaf. I must make the trip to rural Avon and study the technique. Not that it will help. I swear she knows magic or spells or has a secret ingredient she slips in when no one is looking. I suppose it could be the 70 plus years of experience she has. My paltry 20 years of cooking experience pales against her skill.
And don't get me started on her coleslaw. Epic, I tell you!
Farm Life (1 of many)
Growing up on a farm provides ample opportunity for strange experiences.
I have helped butcher chickens. I chased them down after they stopped flopping.
I have helped sort and move cattle. They stop if you scream in terror, but then they start running again.
I remember one time, my dad dangled me by my ankles over a culvert to see if it was blocked. Good times.
I have baled hay. It is amongst the dirtiest most uncomfortable hard work one can do.
I have bottle-fed baby sheep, baby cows, and baby kittens. This isn't as fun as it sounds.
I have been bucked off a horse. Cricket was its name.
I have killed a snake with a hoe. Nightmares.
I can bait my own hook and take my own fish off a hook. Cleaning them is another story.
I have caught frogs bare-handed. They are quite slimy.
I know how to pick up a psychotic kitten without injury. By the scruff of the neck.
I also know how to pick up a kitten and nearly lose a hand. While kitten is distracted by a threatening dog.
I know what it feels like to be shocked by an electric fence. It hurts and I scream.
I have broken an amniotic sac to let the calf inside breath its first breath. It was the most disgusting thing I have ever had on my hand.
I have "preg-checked" a heifer. Glove to the shoulder.
These are just a few of the wonderful experiences that one can have growing up on a farm. Ask me about any of them. I have more details on almost all of them. Maybe I will even write about them in more detail, but you get the general idea of the craziness that is everyday farm life.
I have helped butcher chickens. I chased them down after they stopped flopping.
I have helped sort and move cattle. They stop if you scream in terror, but then they start running again.
I remember one time, my dad dangled me by my ankles over a culvert to see if it was blocked. Good times.
I have baled hay. It is amongst the dirtiest most uncomfortable hard work one can do.
I have bottle-fed baby sheep, baby cows, and baby kittens. This isn't as fun as it sounds.
I have been bucked off a horse. Cricket was its name.
I have killed a snake with a hoe. Nightmares.
I can bait my own hook and take my own fish off a hook. Cleaning them is another story.
I have caught frogs bare-handed. They are quite slimy.
I know how to pick up a psychotic kitten without injury. By the scruff of the neck.
I also know how to pick up a kitten and nearly lose a hand. While kitten is distracted by a threatening dog.
I know what it feels like to be shocked by an electric fence. It hurts and I scream.
I have broken an amniotic sac to let the calf inside breath its first breath. It was the most disgusting thing I have ever had on my hand.
I have "preg-checked" a heifer. Glove to the shoulder.
These are just a few of the wonderful experiences that one can have growing up on a farm. Ask me about any of them. I have more details on almost all of them. Maybe I will even write about them in more detail, but you get the general idea of the craziness that is everyday farm life.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Pregnancy is Soooooo Weird
As I have mentioned in my title, pregnancy is so weird. First of all, the fact that you can't tell for quite some time that you are pregnant has always seemed crazy to me. It's my body. I live in it. I should be able to tell when there is a new resident.
I had no real idea that I was pregnant until that little plus mark appeared before my very eyes. I had no morning sickness and my boobs usually got tender around that "time of the month."
**Disclaimer: If you are not comfortable with boob talk, you should just leave this blog now. It is only the beginning.
Since I have the disclaimer out of the way, the second weird thing I have noticed about pregnancy is all of the changes that happen to the pregnant body. Like, immediately. I was aware that there were a lot of major changes heading my way when that plus sign flashed onto the pee-stick. Heck, some had snuck in on me under the disguise of PMS. I was not aware how many crazy things would be kick-started by the tidal wave of hormones flooding my system.
You may have noticed that there have not been many blog posts for quite some time. Yeah. It seems you need to be awake to type. Weird. Also, I actually do put some thought into these silly posts. Again, thinking (logically) requires one to be awake.
I find myself in the relatively blissful second trimester. Apparently, this is the "good" trimester. You know, the one in which I won't be too tired. The one in which I won't feel nauseous. The one in which I will have a tiny amount of extra energy with which I will apparently clean, knit booties, and shop for tiny clothes. Oh, and BIG clothes.
I have officially declared that my pants no longer fit. The public announcement that my bras no longer fit was lost in the haze of the first trimester. The second announcement that my bras no longer fit was also lost in that same haze. Yes, folks, that's right. I no longer have the boobs of an Olsen twin. I never really thought I would have bigger jugs. I never really wanted them. I now have them. I now want them to go the hell away. And here's where the sharing will go over the top for some. I really hate that I have "underboob" now. I also hate that even my new "C" cup seems restricting and binding. I refuse to even attempt to fill a "D." Ok, that wasn't too horrible. Trust me, I've read other's blogs. That was nothing.
I will say I have been lucky. I haven't had any morning sickness to speak of. I haven't had any since I switched from the prenatal vitamins to the chewable children's gummi vitamins. (By the way, those gummi vitamins are fricking delicious.) I have only gained about 6 pounds...so far.
I haven't been especially hungry. I can't say I've turned down many meals. I really haven't had any strange cravings. I eat weird stuff on a normal, non-pregnant day.
We find out what the little sucker is on March 5th.
We haven't settled on any names. Feel free to make suggestions. I will feel free to ignore those suggestions and laugh in your face.
If you are reading this, I probably wouldn't have a problem with you checking out the bump. By the way, it is starting to be a bump. But, can you have everyone else in the world keep from molesting my belly for the next 5 months.
Other random weird pregnancy things in list form
doula
trans-vaginal sonogram
natural birth
...And those are just the ones that I am not ashamed to write out for you.
I had no real idea that I was pregnant until that little plus mark appeared before my very eyes. I had no morning sickness and my boobs usually got tender around that "time of the month."
**Disclaimer: If you are not comfortable with boob talk, you should just leave this blog now. It is only the beginning.
Since I have the disclaimer out of the way, the second weird thing I have noticed about pregnancy is all of the changes that happen to the pregnant body. Like, immediately. I was aware that there were a lot of major changes heading my way when that plus sign flashed onto the pee-stick. Heck, some had snuck in on me under the disguise of PMS. I was not aware how many crazy things would be kick-started by the tidal wave of hormones flooding my system.
You may have noticed that there have not been many blog posts for quite some time. Yeah. It seems you need to be awake to type. Weird. Also, I actually do put some thought into these silly posts. Again, thinking (logically) requires one to be awake.
I find myself in the relatively blissful second trimester. Apparently, this is the "good" trimester. You know, the one in which I won't be too tired. The one in which I won't feel nauseous. The one in which I will have a tiny amount of extra energy with which I will apparently clean, knit booties, and shop for tiny clothes. Oh, and BIG clothes.
I have officially declared that my pants no longer fit. The public announcement that my bras no longer fit was lost in the haze of the first trimester. The second announcement that my bras no longer fit was also lost in that same haze. Yes, folks, that's right. I no longer have the boobs of an Olsen twin. I never really thought I would have bigger jugs. I never really wanted them. I now have them. I now want them to go the hell away. And here's where the sharing will go over the top for some. I really hate that I have "underboob" now. I also hate that even my new "C" cup seems restricting and binding. I refuse to even attempt to fill a "D." Ok, that wasn't too horrible. Trust me, I've read other's blogs. That was nothing.
 |
| Accurate representation of how I feel. |
I will say I have been lucky. I haven't had any morning sickness to speak of. I haven't had any since I switched from the prenatal vitamins to the chewable children's gummi vitamins. (By the way, those gummi vitamins are fricking delicious.) I have only gained about 6 pounds...so far.
I haven't been especially hungry. I can't say I've turned down many meals. I really haven't had any strange cravings. I eat weird stuff on a normal, non-pregnant day.
We find out what the little sucker is on March 5th.
We haven't settled on any names. Feel free to make suggestions. I will feel free to ignore those suggestions and laugh in your face.
If you are reading this, I probably wouldn't have a problem with you checking out the bump. By the way, it is starting to be a bump. But, can you have everyone else in the world keep from molesting my belly for the next 5 months.
Other random weird pregnancy things in list form
doula
trans-vaginal sonogram
natural birth
...And those are just the ones that I am not ashamed to write out for you.
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