tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40103329330509434132024-03-14T00:29:28.081-07:00In 2 Me SeeWhat better place for intimacy than the web. My life thrown out there for everyone to ogle at!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger212125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-89792820584694995942019-10-03T13:45:00.002-07:002019-10-03T13:49:12.900-07:00An update, just cause...I didn't have my tummy tuck in 2016. Instead, I waited. I think I'll have it in the summer of 2020. Too much was going on in my marriage in 2016, emotionally, to go through with such a permanent major surgery. Surprisingly, in August of 2018, at the age of 41 I found myself pregnant once more. I've always wanted 4 children. Mormon upbringing and all ;)<br />
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But like so many others, we lost that pregnancy in the early days. I think we made it to 5w. Following that I started to develop realization around the closing window of fertility. And I tried to get Berilac onboard with one more round of fertility treatment. Even with an FSH of 20, the RE was hopeful we could be successful. However, Berilac and I were not on the same page. He was trying to avoid conception, I was wanting it. It was a rough season.<br />
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In late October of 2018, my 14 year old niece and her mother contacted me, asking us if we could take in my niece. She and her mom were in rough circumstances, and her dad (my brother) is working on his own issues. We brought my niece into our home last year, and in July of 2019 we became official legal guardians to her. Suddenly we were parents of 4 children and instant parents to a teenager! (where's the holy crap emoji for that?!)<br />
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While we have 4 kids now, and I'm incredibly lucky to have even had one. I'd still love one last one! (I know it sounds crazy.) But I also know that I'm 42 now and not really wanting to give birth at 43, which I will turn in May of 2020. Additionally, my own personal summers have started, it's been 2 months since AF visited, and my FSH was 20 in 8/2018. I'm turning a corner, no longer wanting it to happen and looking forward to what it means if those years are behind us.<br />
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My youngest is in kindergarten, my middle child is in 2nd grade, and my oldest (biological) is in 5th grade. We are officially parents to school aged children. The focus has shifted, life moves on.<br />
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If you are reading this, I hope your fertility journey is fruitful. A wise fertility therapist once told me that with enough resources and determination anyone can have a family - it just might look different than your original plan. Here's to acceptance and gratitude when life turns out differently than you had expected.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-850305408448981152016-09-13T00:07:00.001-07:002019-10-03T13:47:04.521-07:00Four years later ...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Not that anyone reads this anymore, but just in case.<br />
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First of all, huge hugs to you for enduring the struggle. The pain of infertility, while deeply painful, also gave me the gift of compassion - and for that I am grateful. Yet, it's easy for me to be grateful when I have not two, but three beautiful children after our difficult journey. Back in the thick of the struggle - I had no idea I would be that girl. If you remember, Drudoc arrived in Dec 2009, Dimple came two years later (per that "most recent" 2012 post), and two and a half years after that (with the SAME dose using the SAME CCRM protocol we used for Drudoc, only instead using timed intercourse rather than retrieval and transfer - and this time only producing a whopping TWO mature follicles) we were fortunate to conceive sweet baby boy Wilibald who arrived in June of 2014 (8lbs 11oz, 20 in).<br />
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It was a difficult delivery of which I'll say, I hemorrhaged to the point of being borderline for needing a transfusion - which we declined and instead met with a high iron diet. I dealt with anemia for weeks, to the point where I just slept most days.<br />
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Again, I'm grateful to be on this side of our journey. Three little ones, growing up so quickly. I'm 39.5 now, Berilac is almost 42. This winter I'm having a tummy tuck done to repair the extensive damage those big babies (and really that big tummy) caused me. And this formerly infertile (I guess sub fertile is more accurate) ... womb will be closing up shop. It's hard to consider a vasectomy - to intentionally decline the opportunity for offspring - when so much of our journey was trying desperately to HAVE children.<br />
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With bittersweet goodbyes,<br />
Polly (Berilac, Drudoc, Dimple, & Wilibald)<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-90917697612953155972012-05-06T00:05:00.000-07:002019-10-03T13:46:46.032-07:00Now, how do I get to my blog again?(WARNING: This is long; mostly for my benefit - posterity and all.)<br />
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Yes, I'm a slacker.<br />
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First off, allow me to apologize for delaying this long in posting - frankly, it's embarrassing. I'm sorry - for anyone still out there. I've waited far too long, so now I must set my pride aside and fill you in ;-)</div>
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On the tail of the last post, I was put on modified bed rest for 2 months. That was dreamy - with a toddler at home. I spent all day in my recliner, kicked back, with my laptop on my lap, working from home. My poor hubby had to do ALL the cooking, cleaning, daycare pick-ups and drop-offs, and childcare. I was very grateful to my church for organizing some meals for us, to at least take a little bit of the burden off of him.</div>
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Once I got to 32 weeks I relaxed a lot. Following the incident in the last post, I had 2 more bouts of contractions (all within the same week) but they were much more mild. So as the distance grew between the potential preterm labor and my expanding belly ... I felt more and more confident. By 37 weeks I was chuckling that I was worried about her coming early. My OB wanted to induce at 39 weeks, but I convinced her that 40 weeks was OK. We started non stress tests at 32 weeks just to be on the safe side. At 39 weeks, in hopes of avoiding another induction (they induced at 39w0d with Dru) I had my membranes swept and had my second round of induction encouraging acupuncture. </div>
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BIRTH STORY<br />
It was the night of 12/23. I was 39w2d. I had had one round of minor contractions earlier in the week that warranted a call to our doula - which did not amount to any progress. Once contractions started this go-round, I wasn't sure if this was go-time. My in laws were in town and Berilac and I decided to take advantage of our more-than-likely last date night in awhile. We were seated, enjoying a DELICIOUS Vietnamese-fusion restaurant when I started feeling tightening in my abdomen. At this point, I had had so much discomfort in my pregnancy that this wasn't registering as anything of note for me. We finished dinner and decided to walk the local indoor mall (oooooh, hot night on the town). On our drive there (I was driving - the belly was too big to fit in the passenger seat, in front of Dru's rear facing car seat) I started experiencing some pretty intense contractions. Oh course, I didn't tell Berilac. I just breathed through them. We got to the mall and briskly indoors (it WAS almost Christmas and a chilly 32 degrees outside). I didn't even make it to the mall interior from the department store, when I sat on a bed and finally revealed to Berilac that I thought we needed to get home - that things were getting intense. (Honestly, we were both relieved as this was not turning into the epic night we had hoped for.) Of course, after getting home, the contractions stopped and I fell asleep (around 12:30, I'm a night owl). <br />
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I was awoken at 3:30AM with painful contractions. I tried going back to sleep - with no success. I "rested" until 7:00AM when I finally felt like I could courteously call my doula. We had the in laws take Dru next door to our neighbors house (who conveniently were traveling for the holiday and left us the keys to their place! We couldn't have planned that better!) All morning, I was walking the house, groaning, resting, eating bites of food, hydrating, and groaning some more. By 11:00AM we had the doula come over. It seemed as though anytime we spoke, and when she arrived, everything slowed down (I guess this is normal). But by 1:30PM, I was starting to feel an urge to push with contractions 2-3 mins apart - so we headed to the hospital. I did NOT know how I was going to make the 30 minute car ride to the hospital without having the baby in the car. In spite of the pain, I was with it enough to request that the hubby drive and the doula sit with me in the back of the car ... you know, in case we needed to deliver a baby back there! I like to call this next portion of my story - my kung fu panda maneuver ... I could hardly handle the pain at home, with all the freedom I wanted, how on Earth was I going to stand the pain while having to be sitting on my butt, confined to the back seat? I got into the car, I sat with my head down, and I willed the pain to go away. I was silent for 30 mins - not one cry, groan, or scream. <br />
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We arrived to the hospital and I was still pulling out the relaxation up the elevator and into my L&D room. Although the nurses worked as quickly as they could, it wasn't until 3:30PM that I was done being admitted and was finally checked. It was our goal to arrive to the hospital at 7cm dilated - in order to hopefully avoid the epidural. They checked me, I was 4.5cm dilated. I would say that I was disappointed, but instead I was relieved to be in the hospital and no longer en route. I remember one of the nurses saying - we need to staff here, this one's coming soon. And I was thinking ... what gives you this idea? The fact that I'm less than 1/2 way there? or the fact that my last active labor took over 24 hours and we were only a couple of hours into active labor? (I was entitled to my attitude - I was in labor!) I labored as best I could for an hour - the hospital smells were really bothering me. I progressed to 5.5cm. Thirty minutes later, at 5PM I was in serious pain. They checked me again and I was 6-7cm (the same place I stalled last time). I was having so much back labor that I couldn't imagine hours more of labor followed by birthing a posterior baby! (All late term ultrasounds showed a posterior presentation.) I demanded the epidural.<br />
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Because we were at a teaching hospital, we were all waiting for the attending doctor to arrive. I didn't get my epidural until 5:30 and because I told them that I had experienced a drop in blood pressure during my last epidural (at Dru's birth) they decided to start with a low and slow dose. I.was.freaking.out. The pain was incredible and having to labor on my back in a bed was NOT OK. I could feel the baby making it's way to the light, trying to escape through the exit. The pain relief did not come until 6:00PM a full HOUR after I demanded an epidural ... perhaps I should have planned better? At 6:10PM my OB encouraged me to start pushing. I pushed for less than 15 mins and at 6:24PM on Christmas Eve our beautiful daughter Dimple (not her real name but her LOTR name, like the rest of us have) was born. She was 8lbs 3oz. and 20.5 inches long. (Just shy of her brother's measurements.)<br />
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We spent Christmas Eve and Christmas in the hospital, struggling with recovery and breastfeeding. Dru did not come down and meet his sister, as he had a runny nose and they wouldn't let him in. He stayed with Nana and Papa at home and called us to check in. Dru and Dimple are 2 years and 5 days apart.<br />
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RECOVERY/MATERNITY LEAVE/BREASTFEEDING<br />
Recovery was pretty brutal - with everything that can happen down there. But I will say that recovery this time was MUCH quicker and more tolerable. I felt back to normal by 3 weeks. I was able to lift her while moving in and out of a chair (like I wasn't able to with him 2 years prior). My milk came in earlier. Breastfeeding stopped hurting MUCH earlier (a few weeks vs. 2 months with Dru) and overall, I did not experience PPD like I had with Dru. But it didn't stop there! Dimple started sleeping 9 hours a night by 5 weeks. At almost 6 weeks we found ourselves back in the NICU with RSV (same thing happened with Dru at 7 weeks!). She was admitted for 3 days and upon release, because she dropped from 60% to 40% in weight, they asked us to wake her at 6 hrs. So she would go to bed around 5P, we'd wake her at 11P, and she'd sleep until 5A for a quick meal and then back to bed until 8A ... AND she napped 2 out of every 3 hours during the day (similar to Dru, but better) ... I'll say, I believe God knew what we could handle and based on how easy both of our kids were - the answer is - not much! So because prior to going into the hospital she was sleeping 5P-2A and then again at 5A ... we thought that perhaps it would be better for her if we just let her wake on her own in the 12 hour window between 5P and 5A ... knowing she would only get one feed, we stopped waking her at the 6 hour mark - assuming she'd wake at the 9 hr mark ... well, she didn't and that girl was sleeping 9-12 hours a night between 5-11weeks, if we didn't wake her.<br />
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At 10 weeks we realized we NEEDED to get responsible about a childcare solution for our kids. I still had 10 weeks left of leave, but I wanted to make sure we found the perfect fit for our family (especially, given the fact that in our nanny search in August of last year when we lost Dru's nanny of 14 months, we interviewed FIVE nannies and didn't find anyone even close to suitable!) We started interviewing and the second nanny we talked to - we fell in love with! The only problem is that she wanted to start employment THAT next week, when Dimple turned 11w. So we decided to cut my maternity leave short (I returned at 15w rather than 20w); we started the nanny part time at 11w, paying her full time while we accrued hours to use in the coming weeks as comp time for date nights, etc. It was that week that we started giving Dimple a second daily bottle (all other feeds were nursing) however, during that time instead of pumping, I was so excited about my new found freedom that I got caught up in being able to go to the grocery store and stuff - and I inadvertently dropped a pumping/nursing session ... needless to say, my supply plummeted. By 12w (St. Patrick's Day no less, how can I forget?) instead of sleeping 9-12hrs overnight (without waking to feed!) she woke up every 3 hours. At first I thought it was a growth spurt, but three weeks later when we were still waking up 3x/night, I was moving on to considering it the 4 month sleep regression! It wasn't until later that I started to piece together that it might have been both of those combined with a falling supply. The other thing we considered was reverse cycling; since I had started back to work and since Dimple was getting a bottle from a new caregiver - we thought perhaps she was also eating less during the day and wanting mommy at night. Over those four weeks we got desperate and decided to only give bottles overnight; we were providing bottles more frequently in hopes of tracking how much she was eating, and by the time I returned to work, she was being fed almost entirely bottles of expressed breast milk. So I was (and currently am) nearly entirely exclusively pumping (not my preference). By 16w, her longest overnight stretch turned into 6 hours and even 8 hours. We were giving her LOTS more milk in the bottles at longer intervals and she was consuming much more in a 24 hour period than she had been. We are now 19w, and although her brother was already sleeping 12hrs/night consistently by this time, we believe that because she is smaller, and because she only wakes to chug 5-6oz. immediately putting herself back to sleep (no fussing, no crying, no diaper change, etc.) we believe she definitely still needs the overnight feeds and soon she will naturally extend that longest stretch. I even think that over the past week she's upped her intake from about 24 oz/day to more like 30-32oz./day ... and I will definitely have a hard time keeping up!</div>
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She is adorable; she is rolling over from front to back and *almost* rolling over from back to front. We are still swaddling and plan to use the ba.by mer.lin ma.gic slee.psuit to help transition her from swaddle to no swaddle - but we're waiting for a string of cooler nights - those things are like mini snow suits!! She babbles and talks a ton (just like her mama ;-) she squeals and laughs and is the happiest little baby. I love when she wakes up in the morning how she talks to herself to let us know she's up. She's currently on three naps a day, her schedule looks something like this: </div>
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Don't start the day until at least 6AM.</div>
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Wake by 7:30 if she hasn't woken up on her own.</div>
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Eat, 1 hour awake time, change, down for first nap.</div>
2-2.5 hr nap<br />
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Eat, 1 hr 15 min awake time, change, down for second nap.</div>
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1.5-2 hr nap</div>
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Eat, 1 hr 30 min awake time, change, down for third nap.</div>
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1-1.5 hr nap</div>
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Eat, 1 hr 45 min awake time, change, bedtime routine - off to bed!</div>
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Wake once or twice before the next morning.</div>
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It's weird to find ourselves in the same position, only two years later, with a little girl instead of a little boy, and having to go through the newborn stage with a toddler underfoot - although I'm exhausted, I consider myself VERY fortunate.</div>
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Dru is proving to be a great big brother. Of course, he's feeling a bit dethroned, but given how much she sleeps, he gets a lot of sole attention. I see it surface when I'm feeding Dimple, if Dru is having a rough time, he will start crying and ask to be held like Dimple. So we set her down and get in some good ol' cuddling.</div>
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Dru is doing amazing. In my opinion, he's brilliant. Today, while my husband was serving himself the last bit of tortilla chips from the bowl on the table, my son said, and I quote! ... "Daddy, can you save me some chips and save mommy some chips? Because if you eat them all, I will be sad and mommy will be sad" ... not only does that include complete sentences and multiple sentences strung together - but also cause and effect AND being in touch with his feelings!! We've been working on those ;-) </div>
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Because Dru is home (no longer in a daycare setting with his peers) we have set up some structure around social activities. We've joined a weekly playgroup that we're planning to host monthly (on the days I work from home). There is an every other week children's focused church event that we attend, complete with themed rooms and circle time. The local library is a stroller walk away with an active story time. We will get passes again to the nearby kitty amusement parks - along with other friends that are cardholders.</div>
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Being a working mom of two has proven to be quite challenging and leaves little room for me-time, much less brushing my teeth or showering (don't stand too close ;-). I am fortunate enough to have a nanny that comes into our home each day. I work from home Mon & Fri. I take the train to and from work and leave my car here (complete with properly installed rear facing car seats) for the nanny to use on adventures with the kids. I wake, nurse, eat/drink/pee/pump, pack, commute via foot/train/bus (50 mins for a 10 mile distance), eat/drink/pee/pump, work, eat/drink/pee/pump, work, eat/drink/pee/pump, commute home, unpack, take care of the kids, cook, eat/drink/pee/pump, clean, get ready for the next day, watch 20 mins of TV and hop into bed to repeat! I find that I need to eat and drink a ton to keep my supply up, and with all that consumption I'm hitting the restroom a lot. And of course, I'm pumping all the time (3 times over 7 hours in a day at work) ... I'm leashed to that pump! ... But all for good cause. Things will get better when she's sleeping through the night and when I can reduce the pumping sessions.</div>
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Now I must go to bed ... this post has taken me HOURS to write ... and it won't be long until she's up again ... rooting for some more liquid gold.</div>
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Thanks for checking in. I hope not to go so long between posts. Take care.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-20687783725115006342011-09-02T12:46:00.000-07:002019-10-03T13:46:36.580-07:00A call to 911, an ambulance ride, a visit to L&D ... but all is ok now.I'm not sure if I can communicate how seriously traumatic last night was for me. <br />
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After picking up my son, around 6p, I was cooking dinner and feeling a bit dizzy and generally not well. I had some water and sat down. I let my husband finish making dinner when he got home at 6:20p. I ate dinner and had more water and told my hubby that I wasn't feeling well and that I'd be going to bed right after dinner and he asked "at 7p?" and I said "yep". I was realizing that I had been having BH contractions for like 20 mins straight with no relief. I know that you're supposed to drink water and lay down ... so I grabbed some water and headed to the bedroom.<br />
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Then I started feeling pain. I was timing things and it seemed like pain was washing over me every 8 mins, I started to wonder ... how many BH contractions do you have before you call the on-call? I called the on-call and waited for her reply. And since at that point I'd had 3, in less than 30 mins I thought ... what's the timing you should wait for if the contractions are painful and not just BH? should I be calling with these symptoms, maybe I'm overreacting? ... and then I realized ... it *wasn't* normal to have rhythmic PAINFUL contractions (it's then that I realized I was out of the realm of BH ... that took a few mins to process though) ... and then that fourth contraction was a serious doozy ... I was panting, breathing through it, I was switching positions, I called my old doula but got VM ... it felt JUST LIKE labor. It felt like back labor and I had the feeling of wanting to have a BM, I wanted to push. I knew this wasn't good. But there was no mucus plug, no bleeding ... my uterus was rock solid. It was painful to touch my uterus - that was weird. The only relief I could find was to do a hard pelvic tilt forward. But that only came with some relief.<br />
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This entire time my husband was bathing my son (on the other side of our small house) and putting him to bed - giving me time to rest ... little did he know how quickly things escalated. I tried repeatedly calling the home phone - his cell phone was next to me. He didn't answer. I yelled for him and he was shocked to learn what was going on. He tried to quickly return to handling our son, putting him down for bed, but before he could return ... I couldn't wait for the on-call to call me back nor could I wait for my husband - I couldn't imagine walking to the car and sitting for the ride to the hospital - I called 911 ... I just wasn't sure this baby would stay inside for the time it would take to be seen by a medical professional. But I prayed and I prayed and I prayed.<br />
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When the EMTs arrived it had been 10 mins since the last contraction (which was great since they were more like every 8 mins), they did the vitals and my heart rate was around 125. They took me to my hospital (about 25 mins away) ... I had two mild contractions in the ambulance and noted that I was at least feeling the baby ... I was still having BH, but the pain was all but gone.<br />
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I realized I had to pee in the ambulance - and I knew that holding pee exacerbates BH and contractions, so I asked the young EMT guy (note: he was single, no kids) if he had a diaper or pad or something ... he didn't, I told him he'd need to rig something or else I was going to pee on his gurney ... we found some chux pads and some absorbent wound dressing material and I tried as hard as I could to pee en route ... but I couldn't I guess I'm too well potty trained. I felt bad for the poor young guy ... I said - "unattractive bathroom activities ... this is what you can look forward to in marriage!" Poor guy. <br />
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When I got to the ER I demanded - who's going to help me go pee! and quickly they took me to the ER bathrooms - and I realized I was barefoot (ewwww) ... the orderly got me some skid proof socks and I tell you - I haven't peed more in my life. Then they wheeled me to L&D.<br />
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When the ER nurse who was wheeling me up to L&D asked me if I was still having contractions I told her no, that they were only BH at this point. When she dropped me off at L&D the L&D nurse asked - what is she here for? ... and the ER nurse replied "braxton hicks" ... and without delay I said, "No, painful, real contractions" ... punk.<br />
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As I mentioned, after arriving at the hospital I had no more contractions. I was seen by a fantastic L&D nurse and doctor who gave me an NST and an internal/pelvic ... I told them that I had eaten/drank just as much as I usually do and though this is usually caused by dehydration, I don't think that was the case here for me. The NST showed an irritable uterus (as usual for me - I had that with all my NSTs with Dru from 32-39w and again at my anatomy scan for this LO, they could SEE on u/s my uterus contracting!) and the baby was moving a ton :-) ... I haven't had an internal with this pregnancy (I opted out of the 10w appt) but I told her that in my last pregnancy I fell at 25w and my OB found that I had a soft cervix and she had my length checked via ultrasound - and since everything was good in that case, that perhaps a soft cervix was more normal for me. So with this exam she wasn't surprised to find that it was soft around the edges, but firm otherwise and a couple of centimeters in length with no dilation or effacement ... and high up - she said there's more centimeters inside the uterus and she was encouraged by the results. They monitored me for another hour just to make sure. She also said it was good news that: I've carried a baby to term previously, that after all those painful (seemingly progressive) contractions - the cervix was robustly in tact, and that there was pain ... she indicated that incompetent cervix usually presents with no indication, no pain. That and she said we did all the right things - that was nice to hear.<br />
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While I was there, I drank 3 cups of water and I took a fourth cup on the road. When I finished that in the car, I ate some nuts my husband had packed while the EMT guys were doing there thing and taking care of me, there wasn't much else my husband could do to help - so he packed a bag and followed behind the ambulance in the car. Anyhow, while driving home from our experience, I had an incredibly dry mouth trying to eat those almonds ... and just wanted ... needed ... more water.<br />
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I got home and during the hour it took me to get to bed, I was parched for water and drank 20 oz. Between midnight and 5A, I drank 20 more ounces ... since sleeping and drinking a ton ... I've really felt almost back to normal. Now I'm really wondering if I *was* dehydrated and just didn't know it! It was 80 degrees here yesterday and I was carrying around a smaller water bottle than I usually do and I didn't fill it up MORE times to compensate. I'm hoping I was just dehydrated ... because what the heck happened??! When I asked them this, when I was afraid to be released (because there didn't seem to be a cause and without a cause - what can you do to treat it??!) ... they said that with an irritable uterus, if the baby went through a growth spurt - this could have been caused by that ... but that doesn't provide me with any action to take to avoid this in the future. Just prayer, trust, and suppressing fear.<br />
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If you're wondering why they didn't give me an IV in L&D, it's b/c I kept telling them that I drank and ate as much as I usually do - it wasn't until leaving (and needing to drink SO MUCH more water) that I realized that maybe this was a dehydration issue.<br />
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I'm so glad that is behind me. I can't even *imagine* what it would have been like going through this in public or at work or something ... it was really scary and I felt very vulnerable. Both Berilac and I kept saying why did this have to happen this week? Why couldn't it be next week??! (I'm 23 weeks and my hospital considers viability with a baby's weight of 650g - that's the 50% for a 24 week old baby) ... I have been waiting to get past viability ... and all this happened just 6 days prior. Thank the good LORD nothing more came of this ... it could have ended very poorly.<br />
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Today, I'm drinking like a camel and maintaining my pattern of eating something every 2-3 hours ... I'm hoping this will keep that experience from recurring. I've had enough drama for one pregnancy.<br />
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Praising God and thanking all my friends that surrounded me in prayer. James 5:16<br />
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With much love and gratitude,<br />
PollyUnknownnoreply@blogger.com81tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-9506612704531182762011-08-26T16:19:00.000-07:002019-10-03T13:46:25.912-07:00A milkshake to celebrate gender :-)We didn't find out Dru's gender because we felt like there were very few good surprises in life - we wanted that experience of waiting to find out. Well, we've been there, done that ... and it was nice. But I will say that as a woman who has experienced infertility/loss, not knowing contributed to my not bonding as much as I could have with my son. I kept calling him "it" rather than knowing the gender and naming the baby early. I remember being shocked that they put a live baby on my belly at delivery - I was really shocked I actually had a baby. Now, I'm not sure that's linked to not knowing the gender, but I think we can safely say that for self preservation reasons, I'm prone to not bond with a baby developing in my uterus. So ... this time, we wanted to try finding out the gender. I wanted to call the little one our baby girl or our baby boy. I wanted to start the bonding process early ... and hopefully - be able to name the baby well before they require it before letting you out of the hospital. It took us a few days to name Dru and many friends thought we were just trying to keep them on the edges of their seats - when in fact, we entered the hospital with 100 potential names - our problem is - we like 'em all! So we were kind of hoping that by finding out, we could settle on a name before we are enroute to labor and delivery ;-)<br />
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According to <a href="http://hcp.obgyn.net/content/article/1760982/1878451">Ramzi’s theory</a>, our 8 week ultrasound showed the placenta on the right side of my uterus – which is supposed to have a 97% chance at boy. I was emotionally preparing myself for another little boy. Thinking about all the advantages and disadvantages to having two little boys. I was really marinating in the possibility of little brothers. <br />
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Then came the NT scan at 12w1d – where they analyzed the nub angle or <a href="http://www.baby2see.com/gender/external_genitals.html">angle of the dangle</a> (as all fetus' at this point have protruding genetalia, the techs can sometimes use the angle of it compared to the spine/backbone to correctly guess the fetus' gender) and so at mine they guessed (with 90% certainty) that this baby would be a girl – but they encouraged us not to buy anything yet. <br />
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So I went from thinking blue to thinking pink … I thought I would be excited for something new and different - for a same gender baby – but instead, I was sad not to have a baby brother for Dru. I was really getting excited about two boys. Then I started to notice the baby's movement on the right (which, according to Ramzi is supposed to mean girl) yet most people who guessed - based on how I'm carrying, would guess BOY. And Berilac REALLY thought boy and wasn’t convinced by anyone’s guesses – with nub “proof” or not (not really proof – this theory too has a good chance of being wrong)! <br />
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The ultrasound in which we found out was a sonographer training (that’s how we got it early - 18.5 weeks – and they paid us $50 to do it! Heck yeah!) so we went into it as their subjects with the caveat that we would only participate if they told us gender – and they were more than happy to cooperate! So on our way into the scan Berilac says to me “I hope it’s a boy” and with surprise, I ask him “how come?” and he tells me …. “because if it’s a girl, we’re more likely to be done having kids, if it’s a boy, I’ll want to try for a girl” … I didn't know he wanted a girl, much less, that he was interested in having more than two kids :) after all that we've been through, I was surprised to hear his inclination.<br />
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We brought in a blank card and asked that they determine gender, write it down on our card, put in a photo and seal it up. We wanted to experience learning this information on our terms, not theirs. So, they had us close our eyes when they did it and they told us the baby cooperated and that they were able to meet our wishes. <br />
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During the ultrasound, after the gender check, they used the words “she and he” and “her and him” (look at "his" vertebrae!) but it didn't seem obvious to me what we were having … so we enjoyed the rest of the ultrasound got a really cool dvd and I asked for my cervical length out of curiosity (3.7mm, good.) and we left the hospital in all smiles. We headed directly down to a local diner to celebrate. Because I have been having milkshake cravings this pregnancy we thought it appropriate to celebrate with something the baby loves! I called in advance and found out they didn’t have blueberry shakes, so we came prepared, blueberries in tow. We tried to decide if we wanted to give them the card and have them bring out one shake (Berilac didn’t want them up in our business so that was nixed), we considered ordering one shake in each flavor and only drinking the one (but that seemed like a waste) … so eventually we settled on opening the card and letting the great news absorb while we waited for our fries and appropriately colored shake to arrive.<br />
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We prayed in thanks for the amazing gift we had been given (regardless of this precious little ones gender), we opened the card, and I cried. <br />
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Berilac said “I knew it was a girl because during the ultrasound they kept using the pronoun – SHE!” I told him that I thought I saw the bits when I think they showed us a quick glance at the potty shot while moving around (because the baby moved A TON) and my first thought was … “no penis, I’ll bet that card says girl!” <br />
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But … we both still could have been wrong. It was nice to see the pic and get the confirmation. Pretty in pink, here we come. During the ultrasound, after they had told us that they were able to tell and write down for us the gender, we asked how certain they were, if they were 100% and they laughed said - you can only be certain when they are here - and they mimiced rocking a newborn baby. <br />
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We've had the official 20 week ultrasound since then (last Thursday at 21w1d, today I am 22w2d) and they were able to confirm girl again. This tech said that she was 99.99% sure it was a girl and she showed us (me and my mom this time) the potty shot - complete with three lines and nothing more. We also got to review all of the organs, the cervical length, the amniotic fluid levels, and size of the baby and everything looked "unremarkable" and "normal" ... this baby is measuring in almost exactly the 50 percentile ... so a wee bit tiny-er than Dru, and for that I'm grateful. He was 8#11 at birth and I'm hoping not to exceed that this time. <br />
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A little girl to celebrate and less than 2 weeks until viability. Thank you Lord.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-35805129335969081832011-06-28T15:52:00.000-07:002011-06-28T15:56:23.449-07:00Heartbroken for another family ...If you get a chance to head over to Sandi's blog about her precious twin boys, born in late January of this year, victims of TTTS ... one of their sweet boys, Sebastian, was released home from the NICU about a month ago ... but today their other precious boy lost his fight. He was 12 oz. when he was born at 27 weeks, he survived surgeries, tubes, nearly losing his life many times ... he had quite the fighters spirit. But today he went home to be with the Lord.<br /><br /><a href="http://fromaspeck.wordpress.com/">This family </a>could use your love if you have a moment to give it.<br /><br />Samuel Bradford Stambaugh<br />1/27/11-6/28/11Unknownnoreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-45388862244794904572011-06-21T15:53:00.000-07:002011-06-21T15:57:58.050-07:00Happy 4thI am shocked that today marks my fourth annual blog-o-versary ... can you believe it; I've been shouting from the rooftops for all to hear ... for four years??! ... And I'm so fortunate to say that four years later, I have an amazing son and a bun in the oven - when I didn't think I would.<br /><br />I'm so grateful.<br /><br />In honor of that I will share my most recent belly pic :) This is me, the morning after our NT scan, 12w2d.<br /><br />Check out my belly-zilla!<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 133px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620810297656445202" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lziYAf_oAzQ/TgEhL3WriRI/AAAAAAAAAbA/5shxl-8SQLc/s400/FriCut.jpg" />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-1986699232632788862011-06-20T13:10:00.000-07:002011-06-20T13:49:29.796-07:00Extremely fortunate ...I'm sorry it's been so long since I've checked in. Since the last post, I've been attending a parental bereavement support group on a weekly basis where I've come face to face with my broken heart. With working, and raising a toddler, life is very busy - so busy that sometimes I compartmentalize my dad's death and don't face it for days at a time. The support group provides me the space I need to take time for my grief. It's a huge blessing. I feel like I am tying loose ends, I feel so grateful.<br /><br />Dru is growing by leaps and bounds. He's 18 months old now. He's got at least 100 words, he can repeat just about anything you say, so I've given up counting :-) He's been walking since the day before my Dad died. We were able to take a video to the ICU to show my dad before he passed - that was bittersweet. Dru is now running, climbing, and generally just non stop. He recently started taking 1 nap a day, and with all the chasing we do, we are grateful that that is always longer than 2 hours. He's eating four times a day, drinking 24 oz of whole milk from a sippy. He's still in diapers, but we've definitely started introducing the potty concept to him - he can tell us when he needs to pee and poo, so I don't believe we are that far off from training. I am very proud of mommy's little helper, as he carries his step stool to and from the bathroom, his high chair, and the place that it belongs - he is so independent and can do so much! It's so funny to ask him to put away his step stool - and he does! He carries his dishes to the sink, he wipes up the floor when he's spilled food, he carries his laundry to the dirty laundry bin. He puts his toys and books away and he sings along to "Clean up, clean up, everybody help!" ... we are very much so working on helping him to understand that he is part of a family and it's not all fun and games! Though we also enjoy plenty of trips to the park, many walks (with and without the stroller), sprinkler and water table activities now with the warm weather ... and we purchased three separate local amusement park season passes - so we can just jump in the car on a Saturday morning to enjoy a day out with the family! He loves those little rides :-)<br /><br />My favorite story about Dru: after a minor fall or tumble, if he's crying we offer a kiss to the owie site in hopes of declaring "all better" and moving on :-) he will regularly now approach me, telling me about his owie and pointing to and saying "knee" (cause that's where the majority of them are) and I'll ask him if he wants me to kiss it and he says "kiss" ... it's very sweet. Well, the other day, we were doing some naked time as he was dealing with a pretty sensitive diaper rash (which are typically rare for us), I was laying down, playing with Dru on the diningroom floor, when he started pointing to his sweet little cheeks and declaring - "owie" as he was trying to back up into my face, all the while requesting that I "kiss" ... his hind region. My husband laughed so hard, asking me, "are you going to kiss his butt?"<br /><br />And to give an update on cycles and the like ... I will tell you, after our most recent miscarriage. In January, I was pretty deflated. Combine that with the loss of my Dad and I was just crushed. Berilac and were trying to decide what to do. We knew we didn't want to travel to Colorado again (interupting our work, our families, costing a fortune) ... all to have another miscarriage. We started to consider what else was out there for us. We had some left over meds in the fridge that we didn't want going bad and we have 6 IUI's covered by our insurance that we've never used. We had nearly agreed that we would pursue the low-grade interventions of oral and injectible ovarian stimulation combined with IUI, while we investigated and prepared for embryo adoption, homestudy, fostering, and domestic adoption. I signed up for an embryo adoption website account and we were contemplating what to write in our profiles. I was calling many different agencies, including local government to learn more about adoption options. I was considering getting a homestudy that could be applied toward the many routes we were considering. I investigated my adoption benefits ... and we just soaked in as much as we could, waited, and prayed. We had hybrid cycle in February with Femera + injects + IUI and that was a BFN. We opted to take the Mar/Apr cycle off, as we needed a mental break, and that cycle would produce another Christmas baby. We instead opted to get monitored that cycle - to get an idea of what my hormonal baselines were b/c trying naturally was not something we'd actively pursued for so many cycles that I was curious where all my hormones were at at various stages of a cycle. And for the first time in 5 years, I ovulated before CD19.<br /><br />I was planning on coming in on CD 17 and getting some hormone levels drawn to see what my estrogen and progesterone were doing just before LH surge, but instead I had my LH surge on CD15 (WHAT!?) and the best news was ... is that the surge disappeared as soon as it had arrived (most months my surge lasts 5-8 days ... literally, I pee on an OPK and it's positive for about a week) ... so I went in for an ultrasound, and there in my ovary was one perfect little 21mm by 21mm follicle. We gave myself a trigger shot that I had lying around (who can say they have those?) ... and my husband and I opted to ... well, <strong>DO</strong> what people trying to have babies do ;-) ... and two weeks later, I was staring at the first positive pregnancy test I had seen from a "natural" cycle in over 3 years. After Dru's birth we started trying at the 6w post partum visit, so I had tried for over a year, with a CCRM fresh IVF cycle thrown in there ... and it wasn't until 14 months later that I was looking at a positive stick.<br /><br />My first beta at 14dpo was 112 (with Dru it was 108)<br />My second beta at 16dpo was 286 (with Dru it was 300)<br />My third beta at 20dpo was 1855 (we didn't do any more with Dru)<br />We experienced heartbeats with a perfectly measuring bean at 6w5d, 8w, 9w, and 10w.<br /><br />And this past Thursday we had our NT scan and the nuchal fold was 1.3mm with a risk of DS at about 1:8000.<br /><br />I am ecstatic and in utter shock.<br /><br />CCRM is also in shock, they of course are very happy for me, but they really can't believe it happened. I too didn't think it would happen to me. So many embryos so few lives babies. I truly didn't think a spontaneous pregnancy could result in a healthy LO.<br /><br />Sorry to have withheld this news from you. It's been a rollercoaster these last few months. It's hard to be excited and in utter joy about this baby, all while running into experiences where I miss my Dad so much it hurts. It has all been very overwhelming for me.<br /><br />I am 12w5d pregnant. My next appointment is in 8 days. I'm continuing to thank God for this, and asking for protection for the little bean.<br /><br />Oh ... and by the way ... this baby has a due date 3 days after Dru's 12/28 ... yet the baby was measuring 3 days large at the NT scan ... Christmas baby much? Yes, please.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-37599984650520581292011-02-06T23:18:00.000-08:002011-02-06T23:27:31.823-08:00The eulogyI was honored to deliver my Dad's eulogy on 1/22 in California and 1/29 in Utah. We cremated my Dad, so the last step in this process will be spreading his ashes - that is yet to come. Below is what I shared about my Dad.<br /><br />***<br /><br />I am truly honored to be here today. Although the occasion is sad, it’s an honor and a privilege to represent my Dad’s life to those he cared for and loved most. My Dad was an amazing man, a descent human, a loving father, and a very involved grandfather. I don’t think words can do it justice – to consider how great my Dad was. Forgive me as words alone are inadequate.<br /><br />On a normal day, if you happened to see my father on the street, the first impression that my father gave was that he was not materialistic – the furthest thing from it! He might have been climbing out of one of his many jalopies, coming directly from doing some form of manual labor – proven by the disheveled hair left on his balding head. Clothing: mismatched, oversized, spattered in paint. He’d be carrying half a cup of cold 7-11 coffee, with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He would bounce by making conversation with anyone he passed and as quickly as he appeared, he’d be heading for his next adventure – likely whistling and smiling.<br /><br />Unpredictable, maybe a little scattered, and definitely eccentric, that was the man you’d see on the outside, but I’m here today to talk about the man on the inside … that we, as the closest to him, knew him truly to be.<br /><br /><strong>My Dad was warm to an impractical fault:</strong> He was an old softy. You know those adorable little chicks? The cute yellow ones that are all fuzzy and cuddly? My Dad was walking through the local pet store with my then 5 year old niece when she saw these adorable little creatures. My Dad immediately went home, brought together a make shift chicken coup and returned the next day to buy my niece a couple of chicks. He nursed those chicks in the early days – keeping them in his bedroom overnight to protect them from the cold. The bright incubator light and incessant chirping robbed him of his sleep, but he didn’t care. My niece was in love with the cute fuzzy chick aspect of these animals, my Dad knew that those chicks would grow out of their adorable phase and into that awkward pin feather stage within weeks of purchase – but he wanted to give his sweet granddaughter those adorable chicks she wanted so badly, even if the long term investment paid off only for a matter of days.<br /><br /><strong>My Dad was humble:</strong> Days after turning 18 I found a room to rent and I packed my bags. In the middle of the day, on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, without warning, I started loading my belongings into my car – I was moving out. My Dad was sitting at the dining room table talking with one of his tenants. He was half engaged in the tenant’s complaint and half perplexed by what his daughter was doing. My Dad was crushed when he learned that I was moving out. Weeks later my Dad invited me out to lunch, asked me how he could have missed this huge transition in his daughter’s life. He humbly admitted that he’d been an uninvolved parent throughout the years. He apologized for not taking the time to get to know his daughter. We shared some hard truths that day; we shared our hurts and found forgiveness. Through tears he asked if we could start again. From that day forward our relationship blossomed into what it is today.<br /><br /><strong>My Dad faced challenges with courage:</strong> We anticipated my Dad’s death. In August of last year he was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. With every doctor’s appointment he wanted and asked for the truth; if he was afraid he sure didn’t show it. He took every measure, endured every treatment; he never complained, he never wanted to be a burden. When he showed up to his first oncology appointment he arrived wearing a three piece suit with dazzling suspenders and a ridiculous grey wig and top hat. My Dad was a bit of a nut case like that, but when I look back on it now I realize he was trying to make light of the situation to protect us all from the extreme gravity of his reality. He chuckled when I let him know that when the doctor ordered a brain MRI as one of the follow up screenings … an oncologist would only look for metastasized tumors in the brain if the patient were showing behavioral issues – I called the Oncologist to provide my Dad a character witness – this cute costume get up was not something out of the ordinary for my Dad – THAT, was normal. Even in his final days, he withheld from us that he was ready to go, to the very end he was protecting those he loved most. He showed courage in protecting us.<br /><br /><strong>My Dad was thoughtful:</strong> The gift was not something expensive and impressive – honestly, his gifts never were. I remember right after we had our son and laundry somehow became overwhelming – just getting to it proved challenging. When Dad was helping around the house he noticed that the washing machine knob had broken off. One night, when our son went down for bed, my Dad stepped out for a bit, and upon his return he was talking about something rather benign, the traffic or the weather or something and as he chatted, he pulled out this small accessory. Discreetly he tested the knob on the washing machine. It was a little thing, but he knew that even the little things, like a working washing machine knob made the harder things in life, like caring for a newborn … just that much easier.<br /><br /><strong>My Dad valued connection and relationships:</strong> My Dad and I were very close. If ever I had good news or difficult news to share, after I got off the phone with my husband Berilac, I’d call my Dad. For many years my husband and I struggled with recurrent pregnancy loss. During that time of struggle I called my Dad four times to tell him that we were miscarrying … again. And every time my Dad did not have a trite “just relax” or an almost callous “I guess it wasn’t meant to be” … instead my Dad wept with me. When we would see each other, he would just wrap his arms around me and tell me how sorry he was. He tried to keep his tears from me; he didn’t want me to see how heartbreaking the experience was for him when he knew we were carrying our own very heavy burden.<br /><br />I remember the day my son was finally born. Given our journey, many people surrounded us in love and support, waiting outside the delivery room. I tell you, if my Dad were a girl – he would have been in there with me every step of the way! When Grandpa came in to finally meet his new grandson, Berilac handed him to my Dad and my Dad through alligator tears said “we’ve been waiting a long time for you”. And he had to hand him back and leave the room to rebuild his composure. The days, weeks, and months following Dru’s birth were tough. And who was there, taking the overnight shift to allow a couple of exhausted new parents to get some sleep? … my Dad. He’d jump at the chance to change a dirty diaper. He held, and rocked, and sang to Dru – comforting him in those early days – it was such a blessing. Months before he died my Dad said to me “I am so proud of you, you are such an amazing mom” … now that would have been a nice compliment coming from anyone, but it meant so much more coming from someone who knew me and knew my life – coming from my Dad, a man I love and respect.<br /><br /><strong>He was filled with compassion:</strong> My Dad not only opened up his apartments to help those who needed an extra hand, but he would also take people into his home. He would meet folks on the bus, at the store, and he didn’t care what kind of complicated trouble they were in; he judged people on their heart and their character, not on their worldly belongings. He was the kind of guy who would still pick up hitch hikers, because hey they were having a rough day – with no regard for his own safety, he would help out someone in need.<br /><br />The recurring theme here is of my Dad with a servant’s heart. Whether expressing his love in warmth or compassion his actions were ALWAYS surrounded in servant hood. He would drop whatever he was doing to help another in need. The stories that I’ve shared of my Dad putting other’s first was the tip of the iceberg. I am confident that if we polled everyone in here we would hear story after story of how my Dad helped them in some way. Dad was always giving out of his heart even when he didn’t have much to give materially. He was generous with his time, always willing to help, never willing to take anything in return. When I reflect back on my Dad’s life I see a man who may have struggled a bit, but still a man with Godly character. If my Dad had a life verse, it would be:<br /><blockquote>Matthew 25:40 “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me” </blockquote><br />I love my Dad, I miss my Dad; I can’t believe I have to say good bye to him … for now.<br /><br />In spite of all these wonderful stories my Dad had his struggles, life wasn’t always easy for him … but when I think of my Dad and the legacy he left it is the attributes mentioned today that will reach far into his family for generations to come.<br /><br />***<br />And because some were asking - we miscarried on January 10, 2011. Another IVF is not in our future. I will share more of our next steps when we've had more time to process them, but as of now our best "medical" chance at a biological baby is behind us.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-3923305877622226092011-01-05T13:56:00.000-08:002011-01-05T15:07:38.638-08:00Loss: my Dad died ... .and another miscarriage.The night following the transfer I was bed-resting on an Amtrak train in the middle of Nevada on my way home from Colorado, when at 2AM my brother called me in a panic asking me what sort of measures he should take with my Dad in the emergency room.<br /><br />What I have withheld from you for the last five months is that my Dad was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer in August of this year. It was such heartbreaking news. I knew what it meant, my Dad, however, was much more optimistic about his illness. He didn't want me blogging about it because he didn't tell his family until just recently and a few of them follow my blog. So I couldn't share anything on here - which was hard. These last five months my Dad endured bi-weekly chemo treatments, moved in with us, quitting smoking, lost 50 lbs easy (and he was only 150 to start), stopped eating, slowed down quite a bit ... but that didn't stop his spirit. Two days prior to going into the ER he baked 12 dozen Christmas cookies. My Dad was a very functional dying man.<br /><br />Back to that night, December 22<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">nd</span>. My brother and my Dad were in town, because my brother was taking care of my Dad while we were in Denver cycling. Late that night my Dad attempted to swallow one of his morph.<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ine</span> pills with some water and instead slipped and choked on the water and the pill - they went right into his lungs. Almost immediately he started with shortness of breath - and he was frightened. My brother called 911, the Fire Department and an ambulance was dispatched and he was taken to the local hospital. Upon arrival the ER docs were grilling my brother on whether or not they should treat my terminal father (most stage 4 cancer patients have <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">DNR</span> - do not <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">resuscitate</span> - directions) they gave my father an hour to live, so he had 10 minutes to make up his mind about treatment - so my brother called me, as I was my father's durable power of attorney and we had discussed and signed his advanced directive ... I knew all of my father's wishes so I immediately told my brother to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">resuscitate</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">resuscitate</span>!!! There I was woken at 2AM, trying to stay calm and receptive for these embryos - all the while stressing out about not being able to see my Dad before he died. I was going through scenarios of getting off the train in Reno or Sacramento and flying home to be able to say good bye ... even when I was on the train because I can't fly due to the stress it causes me and these little embryos. Thankfully by 5AM, before the next train stop, my Dad was put on a Bi-PAP and given antibiotics and his diagnosis of aspiration pneumonia was already looking better - according to the x-rays they had run.<br /><br />I made it home and to the hospital by 8PM on 12/22. I found my Dad admitted to the ICU, hooked up to the Bi-PAP (a partial ventilator) and a glucose/saline IV, very weak, unable to breath on his own, unable to speak, and sleeping. I didn't realize the end was coming. You see this "incident" <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">occurred</span> 7 days after his most recent chemo treatment and most times he hit his physical low 7-10 days following chemo - so we all thought this was a set back for him and not the end. It wasn't until the late evening of the 23rd that I realized that we'd be spending Christmas in the hospital. On Christmas eve morning my Dad had graduated from the Bi-PAP and he was breathing room air - something, I found out later, the doctors didn't think would happen again for him. Then we learned that my Dad had blood clots in his legs, he couldn't move his body except for his arms so we had to worry about bed sores and more clots at this point. But his blood was WAY too thin for his condition (having clots, being a cancer patient, being a chemo patient - it didn't make sense) so we couldn't even give him blood thinner to help him, we just had to wait them out, hoping they'd go away ... and the next day, they did. We snuck the kids into the ICU and had them open up gifts from "Grandpa" in front of him - but he was so out of it with pain <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">meds</span>, I'm not sure he'd say he remembered the occasion. We decorated the room with pictures from our family photo shoot in September (right after we learned of his diagnosis, we took pictures to remember him by - I'm so glad we did this). We put up a tree and lights, stockings, garland, and family photo ornaments to decorate a gift wrap cutout tree taped to the wall. The best part was the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">santa</span> hat placed on my Dad's cute balding head. That man was loved.<br /><br />By this time it was the weekend, between me, my husband, and my brother, we took turns watching the kids (Dru and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Laila</span> our 6 year old niece) while the other two went to the hospital to visit my Dad. I was there in the early mornings to meet with the staff, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">strategizing</span> about treatment options, then I'd take an afternoon break to relieve someone watching the kids, then I'd be back to the hospital for the dinner and late night <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">timeframe</span> because my Dad was most alert between 10P-2A. He would use that time to write messages to us on a white board or point letters out to us spelling messages - like "I want to eat" and "let me decide". So he had recovered his ability to breath and his blood levels <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">stabilized</span>, but he had gone 5 days without eating. It was time to start eating or time to start dying. The problem was - he had lost his ability to swallow (something we later learned had landed him in the hospital with aspiration pneumonia to begin with). When I asked our new doctor (let's call her Dr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Kavor</span>.<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">kian</span>) about placing a feeding tube - kick starting him back to nutrition she told me she didn't recommend it and suggested it was time to comfort him into death. I knew my Dad was not ready for that - though I asked him EVERY night - "Dad, are you suffering? Is it time? Are you ready to say goodbye? Because we will support whatever you need to do. Always being answered ... no, I want to eat. So the doctor and I did not get along. As an infertility patient, I have learned to be an advocate - and that's what I was for my Dad until the end. That doctor didn't intimidate me. I held my ground and we followed my Dad's direction.<br /><br />This was how I spent the first week of my two week wait.<br /><br />Then came Monday and my Dad was determined to pass a swallow test - so that we could stop talking about feeding tubes or dying and he could get back to living. The swallow therapist came for a visit and my Dad, try as he might, could NOT swallow like he used to. He failed the test and his eyes showed so much disappointment. He had gone 6 days without food and I knew that we'd need to use the feeding tube if he had a chance - otherwise, if he wanted to keep trying the swallow test every day - even to fail - at least he felt like he was still fighting - not just waiting for death to come. That night we delayed in placing the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Fente</span>.<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">nyl</span> patch - because we wanted to keep my Dad alert the next morning to pass his swallow test. He agreed and endured the pain all night long, just getting boosts of 1 and 2 mg of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Mor</span>.<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">phine</span> while he waited for dawn to break. I met the swallow therapist at the hospital that morning and she brought him vanilla yogurt though he didn't look as excited as the day prior. She gave him a teaspoon of yogurt and he <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">resistantly</span> swallowed it. Somehow, on that day, Tuesday 12/28 he passed his swallow test - we were all in shock. And my Dad whom I thought would be beaming from ear to ear just gazed right passed me, as if I didn't exist. Something had changed.<br /><br />My entire family was there (my mom and my two brothers - my mom and dad divorced in 2000) - I had invited them down to say good bye because I assumed he'd fail the swallow test and we'd place the feeding tube and because it was a procedure with general anesthetic - I thought there was a chance we could lose him during the process. However, he passed the swallow test so we didn't need to worry about the feeding tube. So the four of us sat together in a nearby waiting room discussing policies, paperwork, funeral wishes, etc. While we were meeting, our Pall.<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">iative</span> Care consult team came and visited my Dad and they had a rare opportunity to talk with my Dad without us there. The doctor saw that my Dad was not doing well. She told him that she's seen this before and that he was a dying man. She asked him about his plans to try to swallow things and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">recuperate</span> from this illness but she thought he looked like he was in a lot of pain and basically she asked him if he was being honest with his family about wanting to hold on versus being ready to let go and he confided in her that he was not being honest with us - my Dad was ready to go. When this doctor told us this, we broke down into tears ... the LAST thing we wanted was to drag this out. We wanted what he wanted! They recommended the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">mor</span>.<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">phine</span> drip and my Dad wanted it. We were told my Dad had anywhere between 1 and 48 hours (with 48 hours being very generous) this was at 2PM on Tuesday 12/28 (11<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">dpo</span> for our cycle).<br /><br />There was about 30 minutes between being told he was ready for the drip and having it actually placed and starting to work. After I got a chance to love on my Dad and tell him that we support whatever HE wants - and kissing him and hugging him and crying with him. I was able to call and reach by speaker phone all five of his siblings, his mother, some cousins, and a handful of nieces and nephews who were all able to say their last good byes to my Dad. It was such a precious and beautiful time. I cherish those words, those acknowledging nods my Dad gave, and the tears running down his cheek. I can't imagine what was going on in his mind. And because he couldn't talk, I'll never really know. But I hope he was glad to have some closure with his family.<br /><br />For the next 9 hours we sat around my Dad, playing music he enjoys, singing to him, talking to him, kissing him, hugging him, keeping him warm, crying with him. It was beautiful. My favorite part was being able to tell him that I had so much peace about his departure - that we had left nothing unsaid. My Dad and I had the best relationship. He wasn't the greatest Dad from 0 to 18, but he really turned things around and made up for it from 18-33. I couldn't have asked for more. My Dad and I were close, we forgave each other, we were and are kindred spirits. My Dad was such a good man. The things that people kept repeating about him were that he was their favorite ______ (fill in the blank) uncle/cousin/son/etc. and that he would drop everything to help someone in need. He had that giving servant's heart.<br /><br />I went home to sleep around 10:30 that night, I was very reluctant ... but we knew that I had 3 embryos cooking inside of me and I needed to protect them - it's what my Dad would have wanted for sure. And so I left. At 5:15AM I woke up and looked at the clock, I wondered if my Dad was still alive. My brother called and woke us at 5:19 and told us that Dad's breathing had dropped off ... by the time we got to the hospital at 5:40, he was gone. My brother was there with him, holding him, kissing him, affirming him as a Dad and as a person. It couldn't have been any better. Yes, I would have liked to have been there - but that wasn't meant to be. My brother will forever have that time and that moment and for that I'm grateful.<br /><br />Barrie Eugene <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Wadman</span><br />August 11, 1941 to December 29, 2010<br />May you rest in peace<br /><br />That day my brother, my husband, and I went to my Dad's house to find the important paperwork. Amazingly we found everything we needed - the burial policy and a good amount of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">pink slips</span> to his vehicles. I found his living will and learned that he had never submitted the paperwork to make me the Executor nor the beneficiary (which is fine, there's nothing really to benefit). I spoke with his attorney and learned that because my Dad liquidated two years ago - there's really nothing to do except tell his landlord, stop his accounts, and follow through on the burial and memorial service arrangements. There will be no probate process. That and the fact that I'm not the executor makes my life a lot less crazy, so I'm glad for that.<br /><br />The next morning was 10<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">dp</span>3<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">dt</span> and our time to pee on a stick. Since 6<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">dp</span>3<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">dt</span> I had been peeing on sticks and putting them away without looking at them. I wanted to know if my trigger ever left but I didn't want the emotional <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">roller coaster</span> of seeing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">BFN's</span> prior to a hopeful <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">BFP</span> ... especially given all we were going through. So the morning following my Dad's death we looked. And the stick was VERY positive. I looked back at all the other sticks and the second line was there the whole time - the trigger never left. We were both subtly excited. The excitement was hard to share with the events of the previous day.<br /><br />I went in for a 11<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">dp</span>3<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">dt</span> beta (on 12/31) and learned that it was 67. They wanted it above 50, so it was fine, it's just that Dru was 108 and I got a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">BFN</span> at 7<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">dp</span>3<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38">dt</span> with his cycle. So things weren't adding up. Then I went through beta limbo:<br /><br />11<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39">dp</span>3<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40">dt</span>: 67<br />14<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41">dp</span>3<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42">dt</span>: 114<br />16<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43">dp</span>3<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44">dt</span>: 129 (today)<br /><br />So I'm waiting on a call from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45">CCRM</span>. I'm pretty sure they'll instruct me to stop all medication and wait for AF.<br /><br />I'm numb. I'm back at work and I'm overwhelmed.<br /><br />I picked up my Dad's remains today (he wanted to be cremated). We're shooting for a service on 1/23 and 1/29 - one is out of state for his family. We'll see.<br /><br />So now it's back to the drawing board, with my heart broken wide open.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com43tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-65823426251864403992010-12-20T14:12:00.000-08:002010-12-20T14:22:05.583-08:00CCRM Cycle #2 - Day 3 TransferI am happy to report that we transferred three beautiful embryos this morning!<br /><br />9-cell, grade 4-<br />8-cell, grade 4-<br />8-cell, grade 4-<br /><br />And according to Dr. Gustofsen these embryos are the same or better quality than the BEST embryo we put in to get Dru!<br /><br />The better news is that the remaining 6 embryos had the following ratings:<br />6-cell, grade 3+<br />6-cell, grade 3+<br />5-cell, grade 3+<br />4-cell, grade 3+<br />4-cell, grade 3+<br />4-cell, grade 3+<br /><br />So although they aren't great, they are MUCH better than last cycle. Last cycle we transferred a 6-cell grade 3+ as one of our best embryos. And the remainder of the embryos were 2 and 4 cell with 50% fragmentation (those listed above have 15%).<br /><br />The embryologist told us that all 6 are in contention for surviving to day 5 or 6 for freeze. She said she's seen 4 cell embryos make it. Last time, more than 1/2 of the ones we didn't transfer had arrested by day 3, then the rest by day 4.<br /><br />I'm go grateful for such great results.<br /><br />I'll tell our transfer day story in another post.<br /><br />Thank you for all your prayers and support,<br />PollyUnknownnoreply@blogger.com90tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-7776507479900953152010-12-18T08:32:00.000-08:002010-12-18T08:37:24.174-08:00CCRM Cycle #2 - Fertilization ReportI am happy to report that yesterday Dr. Gustofson retrieved 19 eggs! I had 7+ measurable follies at AFC, and no more than 15 on trigger day, they were happily surprised to find 19 eggs in there. My E2 level on trigger day was 2600, when in the last cycle it was 3100, so I'm not entirely surprised with the following fert report.<br /><br />Today's fertilization report is nearly in line with our last cycle:<br />10 mature<br />9 fertilized with ICSI<br /><br />They will call us on Monday to let us know if we're doing a day 3 or a day 5 transfer - I'm thinking it'll be day 3. The embryologist, Kim, told me that they'd need 4-5 well maturing embryos on day 3 to push to day 5.<br /><br />The recovery this time is SO EASY. For the most part my biggest complaint is light headedness (very mild) so can I even complain about that? I have had no bleeding/spotting and very minimal cramping.<br /><br />Stay tuned for Monday ...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-21567365522346036322010-12-13T15:21:00.000-08:002010-12-13T15:42:13.304-08:00CCRM Cycle #2 - UpdateOn Saturday CCRM gave us the free pass for appointments on Sunday, so my MIL, FIL, and DH took off for the slopes. Dru and I had a relaxing day back at the homestead - it was nice. Turns out Cop.per Moun.tain was 28 degrees at the base and who knows what ungodly temperature at the top ... so I am SO grateful that my bovaries prohibited me from skiing.<br /><br />I got a chance to visit my dear bloggy friend and her two miracles - I have to pinch myself that we have children. She too has elevated FSH prior to 40, but both of her pregnancies were done without medical intervention - true miracles! While we were there Dru, for the first time, told me what sound cow's make ... he didn't get the "oooh", part but he gave the "mmmmm" sound ... pretty stinkin' cute. And he's really stacking blocks now, like multiple blocks on top of each other - he has quite an attention span for it. He's run into a few new play toys here - including a wind up toy that has him enamored and a handful of larger push cars - he's even making a vroom sound! He's perfecting his ball playing skilz as he passes different balls back and forth to Nana. He is adorable.<br /><br />We went in for our ultrasound and bloodwork this morning and saw about 9-14 follies developing between the two ovaries, with the largest being 20.5mm. I still don't have my Lupron trigger (as I trigger with HCG+Lupron) so I asked about getting that. Also, I had enough meds to get me through today (Monday) and I figured that would be fine - except that if I need more Menopur tomorrow, I'll need to buy that from CCRM because if Free.dom Phar.macy shipped it tonight, it wouldn't arrive until noon on Tuesday - too late for my shot timing.<br /><br />When my nurse called today (who, by the way, just got back from a week in Bar.bados! Rough life!) she gave me my E2 levels and suggested that there is a chance they might push to trigger on Wednesday, leaving the ER for Friday. She said that if they do that, that might leave too much room for my E2 to rise - so they might give me a Lupron only trigger (to help avoid OHSS) or they might give me Lupron plus a 1/2 an HCG trigger, or ... she warned me that we might need to do a freeze all. She indicated that the criteria was an E2 in the 4500-5500 range. Given that I'm at 1600 today, I think I'll be ok. She also had me take my Cetrotide at 4P (rather than at 9:15P like I usually do) and she asked that I take another Cetrotide tomorrow morning before my 7:30A appointment. She indicated that it will give me an additional suppression shot while we wait to see what the trigger timing will be ... all in an effort to extend the time I'm stimming, hoping my blood levels don't go too high.<br /><br />We'll see. More to come tomorrow ...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-52579818316392773162010-12-11T21:14:00.000-08:002010-12-11T21:53:48.608-08:00Enjoying Denver<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Tw-7b2r7Ifo/TQRf-FmTumI/AAAAAAAAAas/9m9nsMSfagw/s1600/tgif.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549666161086675554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Tw-7b2r7Ifo/TQRf-FmTumI/AAAAAAAAAas/9m9nsMSfagw/s400/tgif.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Yes, that's a big rib bone he's <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">gnawing</span> on :-) </div><div> <br></div><div></div><div>We're all in Denver now - me, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Berilac</span>, Dru, MIL and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">FIL</span>. We again are staying at the same great place we stayed last cycle. We have some generous friends and for that we are so grateful. Last night, when everyone finally arrived, we went out to dinner at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">TG</span>.I Fr.<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">iday's</span> and Dru had his first baby back rib - I guess it's confirmed, our egg and sperm were not swapped out last April in the lab ... yep, he's ours!<br><br /></div><div>This trip has been generally unremarkable. We've spent the majority of our time working remotely and watching Dru push all sorts of fun toys around. Though today at the Den.<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ver</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Chil</span>.<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">dren's</span> museum he took 3 steps - he's well on his way to walking! I think he'll be walking before his first birthday next week and before we return home. </div><div></div><br /><div>In between the shots, the work, chasing the wee-one, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Berilac</span> and I are trying to sneak away at each opportunity we get - to enjoy each other and enjoy being a couple. This process is so draining - we need to pour into our relationship. The best thing we can do while waiting for a child is to build a strong family to bring him/her into. And I'll say that now that a child has entered the picture - nurturing the relationship has become something we need to purposefully care for.</div><div></div><br /><div>While we're here, I'm hoping to spend some time with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">IRL</span> friends and a lovely <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">bloggy</span> friend I have in the area - and I can't wait! I also plan on taking Dru to Mon.key <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">buz</span>.<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">iness</span> while the rest of the family hits the slopes. </div><div></div><br /><div>This evening, we were able to have dinner with some relatives ... but because there were 5 of us squeezed into the car on the way there, Dru didn't take his 2<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">nd</span> nap of the day (which he usually does at home in the crib, but when out, he'll sleep in his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">carseat</span> no problem!) Well, today we learned that he won't nap with a couple of too-fun people crowding his back seat! When we got to our aunt and uncle's house Dru hadn't slept for 5 hours - something he NEVER does so he was screaming (again, something he NEVER does) so poor <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Berilac</span> took him out in the car/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">carseat</span> in order to give him the break he needed to settle down for a quick nap - he was able to catch 45 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">mins</span> of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">zzzz's</span> to resume the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">evening</span> with the family. Though, coming home after 8P wasn't much better - I was hoping that he'd fall asleep quickly because it was so dark and he was so tired from a full day of fun ... but no such luck. He FINALLY fell asleep 2 minutes prior to arriving home. But our star sleeper did fall right back to sleep when we took him in and put him immediately down. Note to self - take 2 cars next time!</div><div></div><br /><div>As far as the cycle goes, it seems to be tracking just a bit behind the last cycle ... in terms of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">follie</span> sizes/counts and hormone levels. At least it did after the first appointment here on Thursday. Then I had Friday off from intimate ultrasounds. Today's appointment revealed a pretty good count - maybe 4 equal size follies on the left, plus more smaller ones that likely won't catch up, and 6-7 equal size follies on the right, plus more smaller ones there too. When they called to give me my cycle instructions they told me to maintain my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">meds</span>: 150<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">iu</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Menopur</span> in the morning, 300<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">iu</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Follistim</span> at night, I started <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Cetrotide</span> on Thursday night ... 2 nights earlier than the protocol anticipated - which is exactly like last time. If everything stays on par with last cycle (or there abouts) I guess we'll be doing the retrieval on Thursday. We'll see ...</div><div></div><br /><div>There are many thoughts going around inside my head about this cycle. I swing from being just completely grateful for Dru and feeling content about whatever the outcome. To being worried that Dru might not have a sibling. To being stressed out that we took all this time - away from work, from our parents, from the folks we're staying with - and all this money (need I identify just how much an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">IVF</span> cycle is at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">CCRM</span>? Think - the cost of a car! ... and not a sedan!) only to feel like it was a big waste. What I do know is that there's nothing I can do to make this cycle successful or not. I am not in control. So I'm trying to get prepared to just accept the outcome -whatever it may be.</div><div></div><br /><div>Life is flying by so quickly that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Berilac</span> and I keep asking each other - can you believe we are in Denver, cycling again? It seems unreal.</div><div></div><br /><div>I hope all this time, effort, energy, money ... isn't spent in vein. Lord we humbly continue to ask for the blessing of children.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-64993094149383958482010-12-07T09:41:00.000-08:002010-12-07T09:58:18.882-08:00IVF #2 in full forceI remember waiting to conceive Dru ... and I remember seeing fellow infertiles "lap" me by starting their second round of treatments after they've already had their first child ... and I sat with empty arms ... my heart was broken. First I want to say that if that is you, and you are reading this, know that if I could reach through the screen and give you a big hug I would. The pain of infertility and loss is incredible and for that I am so sorry.<br /><br />But here we are, almost 12 months after having Dru and neck deep in our second CCRM cycle (the first one was successful in 4/09, resulting in our son in 12/09). I started my period on 12/1 and went in for a local monitoring appointment on CD2 (12/2) to learn that my endometrial lining is thick 8mm (likely due to the estrogen priming piece of the protocol - though this didn't happen last time - if you review my posts back in 4/09 you'd see). So Dr. Schoolcraft asked that I wait until CD4 to start stims.<br /><br />As far as protocol goes, mine is: EPP/Antagonist, same as last time. I watched for LH surge with OPK's, then 10 days later started Estrodial pills 2mg/twice daily, 11 days after surge I started .25mg Cetrotide (as there's a national shortage for Ganirelix!), I only took 2 doses (when I supposed to take 3) because AF arrived a day earlier than expected (and I took Endometrin twice daily starting 3 days post ovulation - but obviously that didn't help).<br /><br />I started 2 75iu amps of Menopur in the morning and 300iu/Follistim at night, starting on Saturday 12/4. Today will be my fourth day of stims and my first local monitoring appointment. My lining was 9mm and triple stripe. My right ovary was showing 5 follies at about 8mm and my left ovary was showing 2 follies at about 10. There were a few more on either one, but the RE did not measure them. I feel like last time I had 15 follies and this time I have 7 ... but I'm trying not to get ahead of myself and get disappointed ... easier said than done.<br /><br />If you think to pray for us, please do. We would really love a sibling for our precious Dru. We fly to Denver tonight -Dru, me, and my MIL. Berilac will be joining us on Thursday night.<br /><br />Here we go again!<br /><br />Please do keep us in your prayers,<br />PollyUnknownnoreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-90029181414025439452010-11-21T21:35:00.000-08:002010-11-21T21:49:13.920-08:00And I thought the first smile was heart melting ...<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Tw-7b2r7Ifo/TOoDaffdweI/AAAAAAAAAak/KUupNKFlkuQ/s1600/11-21-2010%2BCuddle.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542246045097771490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 309px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Tw-7b2r7Ifo/TOoDaffdweI/AAAAAAAAAak/KUupNKFlkuQ/s400/11-21-2010%2BCuddle.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />I remember early on impatiently anticipating Dru's first smile. It came at seven weeks and I was beside myself with a serious level of giddy!<br /><br />The first, "Mama," came at eight months and was also heart warming - amazingly so.<br /><br />But this, this takes the cake.<br /><br />Dru is now leaning into my arms, clinging to me, and resting his head on my shoulder while sucking his thumb with one hand and twisting my hair with the other - he's giving me a hug and a cuddle - and I am entirely a puddle on the floor. (The above picture was the best we could get - but doesn't nearly capture the sweetness.)<br /><br />It happened for the first time tonight during our bedtime routine. I'll admit that I extended out the process to steal as much cuddle as I could get - I hear this phase doesn't last nearly long enough - so I'm going to bask.<br /><br />We are so incredibly fortunate.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-79924110922161203062010-10-24T23:37:00.000-07:002010-10-25T00:54:03.580-07:00More updates - Dru and CCRMI cannot believe how quickly the time is flying by. I feel like I'm on the autobahn compared to how slowly life drudged on when we were in the midst of struggling with infertility.<br /><div></div><br /><div>Just a couple of updates ...</div><div></div><br /><div>He is NON STOP. I put him down and he's crawling over here, climbing up that, cruising faster than I can keep up. He loves his push toy and walking with mama and dada's help. <br><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531888193335998930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 316px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Tw-7b2r7Ifo/TMU3AKz4OdI/AAAAAAAAAac/UlEjmcm89y4/s400/10-25-2010+12-49-22+AM+Push.jpg" border="0" /> <div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Thanks to months and months of baby signs, Dru can use a couple of signs pretty well. His favorite sign to give is "milk" (though I think he really wants water when he gives this sign ... but we've shown him the sign for water but he must like the milk one better??), his first sign was "all done" and he says "duh" when he gives this sign, I enjoy when he gives that sign when not eating ... but instead when he's been on the changing table too long ... "all done mama!" ... I don't think so dirty buns! And we think he's starting the "more" sign though he doesn't get his finger tips to touch and he looks more like he's prepping to cross his hands ... starting to pray early, I guess? So pious ;-)</div><br /><div></div><div>And he seems to have a couple of words, his favorites are "dat" which after mommy and daddy translation means "what's that?" ... as he's pointing at something like a light fixture, a mirror, pots and pans - he's really starting to become aware of his surroundings. His other word is "Pa" which is his attempt at "up" (the pa is mimicing the p sound in up!) this word is usually used while desperately clinging to mommy's leg while she's trying to cook dinner and poor thing, he's grabbing onto the *back* of mommy's legs, so it's hard to pick him up. Each time I try to turn around, he continues to cling to my pants and follows my legs as I turn - entirely behind me and completely out of range of being picked up ... ever so increasing the instructions for "pa, pa, pa!" ... it's pretty stinkin' cute! And he's almost saying ball and bottle using "ba" for both.</div><br /><div></div><div>We have started using sippy cups, though Dru isn't the biggest fan. Because he knows how to drink out of a cup I think we're going to keep him on bottles while he learns to serve himself a drink out of a cup. Hopefully by 18 months he'll be able to drink from a cup unassisted and he can use sippy's when we're trying to protect the floors and furniture around us.</div><br /><div></div><div>He's wearing 12-18 month clothes and he's grown out of his 6-12 mo Rob.eez. We just finished up his size 3 diapers - and in just the knick of time, that boy is getting big! When we're done with our case of size 4 diapers I think we'll move to cloth diapers and hopefully start trying to potty train (early I guess?) We'll see.</div><div></div><br /><div>So, it's been 10 months. I can hardly believe it. </div><div></div><br /><div>When do most moms start getting asked when they are going to start trying for a sibling? </div><div></div><br /><div>The questions are just now starting and I'm not sure if it's early, late, or what? Given our history, these types of questions still sting a bit. And sometimes I tell people the honest truth - I would be very happy with just one child, though for Dru's sake, I'd really like to have another. We started trying as soon as we were cleared for business, way back in January at my 6 wk PP appointment. I was breastfeeding and pumping like a maniac until late June and AF resumed in late August. We've been trying for a few months now with no success. </div><div></div><br /><div>Two weeks ago I flew to Denver for my one day work-up at CCRM. It was good to see Schooly again. He was, of course, charming as ever ;-) We ran through all the tests again and found these results:</div><br /><div>FSH: 7.1</div><div>E2: normal!</div><div>AFC: 14</div><div>AMH: 1.9</div><br /><div></div><div>We asked Dr. Schoolcraft if we could hold off on cycling for another 6-12 months, for family reasons, but he cautioned against waiting longer than 3 months. So we're inches away from starting a December cycle. I can't believe we're going to do IVF again, get back up on that horse. It was a nice break while it lasted.</div><div></div><br /><div>I think Berilac and I are on the same page, and that is ... if this cycle doesn't work, we're not sure we'll go through another IVF. It just requires so much. I'm not sure what we'd do, but repeated IVF in Colorado just doesn't sound appealing ... when did it ever?</div><br /><div></div><div>I'm expected to start AF in a few days, then I wait for my LH surge and sound the alarm. We may just be getting a white Christmas this year ;-) </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-19660385241550224602010-09-15T08:37:00.000-07:002010-09-15T09:35:27.528-07:00More Milestones<div>Just a quick update, for posterity really.</div><div></div><br /><div>Drudoc is non-stop active. I was just telling some folks how he's flipping over on the changing table every chance he gets - and he's heavy too, so it's no easy task to flip that puppy back over! We tell him "no" but he's not too excited about this limitation. </div><div></div><br /><div>He is, however, finally understanding our firm "no's" around playing with the fireplace (don't worry, it's never lit!) the other day he crawled right up to it, looked over at me, I said "No, Dru" and he crawled away ... success!</div><div></div><br /><div>Dru is almost 9 months - just a few more days now - and right after he turned 8 months he started saying: "Mamamamama ..." Now, it's not associated to me, or anyone for that matter. Matter of fact it's easily interchangeable with "Babababa ..." (though I think he uses that when he's looking down the barrel of his bottle) and a couple of "Gagaga's" thrown in there. I've been working on Mama for 8 months and he's finally said it! On the other hand Berilac has not been working with Dru on "Dadada" but what do you know? ... Two days after uttering "Mama" ... he starts in with "Dada" ... TWO DAYS! </div><div></div><br /><div>His manual dexterity took a leap earlier this week with not only waving, but pointing! I love when he waves at random people getting into their car (across the street, where ever) when we are outside on a walk or hanging out. He's so salutational.</div><div></div><br /><div>And yesterday our wonderful nanny texted me this image: <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517178999558549186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Tw-7b2r7Ifo/TJD1EZ7ursI/AAAAAAAAAaU/LOs6dwNEbt0/s400/beets.JPG" border="0" /></div><div></div><div></div><br /><div>Dru is eating a ton of foods, all in solid form. He enjoys: cheese, chicken, avocado, kefir, sweet potato, plums, peaches, pears, nectarines, carrots, apples, bell peppers, zucchini, banana, squash, kiwi, melons - of all kinds, green beans (ok, he doesn't <em>like</em> those), and a slew of other things. He's eating four 8 ounce bottles a day and 4 meals. Thrown in one of the formula bottles is 6 oz. of breastmilk, stuff we put in the deep freeze during the 6 months we were breast feeding.</div><div></div><br /><div>Can you guess what he's eating for the first time in the picture above? It's beets! Is eating beets for the first time considered a milestone? If you ask my husband, who's never had beets ( ... ok, never have <em>wanted </em>to have beets) then the answer is yes.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-64341838270661977132010-08-21T23:27:00.000-07:002010-08-22T00:13:10.825-07:00CrawlingThree weeks ago Dru started crawling backwards, last weekend, we captured this on camera ....<br /><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyaJx0ebJFVylcmo5emS1iw91B46hnBHRRW6ZUFlj50bWtedqN0pRrpB5oQaxgEK3UDUNWwRYyVj7hFlFI3Vw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />... and now the bugger has become more coordinated and is into everything! But his new favorite thing to do is cruise and walk around holding onto our hands - an exhausting labor of love. Watch out world - here comes Dru!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-10035257201750995342010-08-14T22:09:00.000-07:002010-08-15T00:06:48.966-07:00At least it makes a great story<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Tw-7b2r7Ifo/TGeMoiImTtI/AAAAAAAAAaE/KBJnfYttdOY/s1600/Camping3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505523697469247186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Tw-7b2r7Ifo/TGeMoiImTtI/AAAAAAAAAaE/KBJnfYttdOY/s400/Camping3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div>Of course I was intimidated taking the little one camping for the first time - who wouldn't be? In light of that I reserved a campsite only about 45 minutes from home (effectively, an emergency eject button) . </div><div><br /></div><div></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Berilac</span> and I are notoriously bad at planning vacations in advance, but he and I were backpackers back in the day and I knew I wanted to at least go car camping with Dru (an ever so gentle warm up to rugged backpacking - this should be easy). Back in May we booked a drive-in campsite in early August with a 7 month old. - we thought, a warm, summer camping trip ... seems reasonable, doesn't it?</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>We planned to leave our house around noon last Friday, but I knew it would end up being more like 2P. On our way to the campsite, we needed to stop by our friends house to pick up from them the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Kel</span>.<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">ty</span> baby backpack we'd purchased from them. Yes we were going car camping, so we didn't really <em>need</em> the pack for this trip ... but what better way to break it in? A little after 5PM we finally found ourselves pulling out of the driveway, only to return 5 minutes later as <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Berilac</span> had forgotten our temp.ur.pedic pillows (yes, we're snobs) and our hot cocoa. (I need to mention here that we all had our packing responsibilities: <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Berilac</span> - camping gear, Polly - food/clothes, Nanny - Dru's supplies ... trust me, it's relevant.) Because we had to stop to pick up the backpack (which, as we didn't know, was out of the way) we found ourselves winding down the last road to the campsite when <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Berilac</span> lets out a gasp! .... 'You're not going to believe this - I forgot the sleeping bags!' </div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>I was a little shocked and disturbed, my immediate thought was 'turn this puppy around!' (after all we were 30 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">mins</span> to Dru's bedtime and he hadn't had his last bottle, his dinner, nor had we set up shelter. But when we discussed making due with our 18 inch air mattress (to keep us off the cold hard ground,) our snobby pillows, the two blankets we'd packed, and of course the clever trick of wearing all our clothes in a layered fashion ... I was more convinced we might survive a 40 degree overnight low and I begrudgingly cooperated.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>The night exploded when we arrived. I had to pee, but I couldn't because Dru was STARVING, as I was trying to feed Dru his bottle and solids ... carefully ... in the back of our newer Sub.a.ru ... in his brand new convertible Ra.<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">dian</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">carseast</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Berilac</span> was wrestling, on the hard ground, with our new tent and air mattress. He brought an extension cord and an AC/DC converter in order to plug it into the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">idling</span> car, but the mattress only inflated for 2 seconds before something POPPED (either the power converter fuse or the mattress motor - not the actual mattress, luckily) ... the sound was loud, we were disoriented - what was going on? At this point, I still had to pee, Dru was finished messily eating and was starting to squeal in excitement as he'd never been up this late ... I was ready to call it a day and pack it in ... after all, that's why I booked a site so close to home, right? But <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Berilac</span> wanted to keep on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">keepin</span>' on. He suggested we sleep on the hard ground, with only two blankets for us to share ... and of course, our pillows ... which upon further investigation ... were not in the car ... turned out we forgot those too ... yes, even after returning to our house once because we realized we had forgotten them the first time. Ouch. In spite of my better judgement, being without mattress/ground-cushion, a warm sleeping bag, or pillows ... I caved ... but not without a fight.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Our power source for our mattress wasn't working, light was fading, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Berilac</span> was starting to manually blow up a Costco-sized air mattress ... chivalrous but not practical. While he was getting dizzy, I hoisted my ornery little boy high on my hip and tried to look as young and dumb as possible (not so difficult, I'll admit) I quickly approached the next campsite and asked if anyone could loan us one of those portable battery operated mattress pumps, the lady responded with 'sure, for $100' ... luckily, she was just kidding. The pitiful young mom bit paid off, I was soon walking back to our campsite with our solution to a tolerable night's sleep.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>I still needed to pee but Dru was getting nearly unbearable (I think it was nearing 8:30, 1 1/2 hours past his strict bedtime.) It was time to make progress toward putting Dru to bed, we started layer our clothes when we realized that I didn't bring a sweatshirt for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Berilac</span> to wear (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">whoopsy</span>!) ... did I mention a 40 degree overnight low and NO sleeping bags? Nice. So we layered on what clothes we had, set up the blankets, tried balancing the motor to pump the mattress quietly while Dru would attempt to fall asleep in the tent, you know - white noise and all. Now, Dru took to the outdoors, but he didn't take to being left alone in a strange tent in the middle of who knows where ... the minute I laid him down in his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">PNP</span> he.started.screaming. So we couldn't proceed with that tactic. I wasn't sure what to do because he goes to sleep so easily at all his naps and bedtimes at home ... I was revisiting my thought of 'what the heck are we still doing here?' when I got the brilliant idea to give him a 1/2 bottle of milk and lay him on his back in his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">PNP</span> to feed himself (he loves this) ... I slipped out of the tent and Dru was on his way to dreamland. </div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>As we were SILENTLY preparing our dinner ... enter: the loud campsite neighbor who we'd borrowed the mattress pump from ... who LOUDLY asked us if he could have his pump back - we hurried him away from the tent and told him we weren't done with it yet, he was a little anxious as he still hadn't filled his own mattress yet. When he left <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Berilac</span> and I listened for the pump ... but we couldn't hear a thing. Oh crap. We ran this guy's battery out, he still needs it, there's not a replacement battery for miles, and he's going to want $100 to replace it ... and he might even get belligerent without a cushion under him on this hard ground. I was really stressing out at this point ... and yes, still needing to go pee.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>After gaining our courage, we sent <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Berilac</span> into the tent to retrieve the pump and the wallet ... we learned that the motor had turned itself off and still had battery ... WHEW!!! (No $100 ransom and potential ruckus with the generous neighbor pump guy). But even that didn't cushion the blow of the next few minutes ... the mattress was completely EMPTY. Just like I needed my bladder to be. (I won't go into the details, but it was late and seemingly dangerous to be wandering the park on my own and thus I urinated in our campsite - classy.) It was at this point that DH tried to encourage me 'honey, try not to get too frustrated, I promise you this will make a great story later'</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Berilac</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">unremarkably</span> returned the pump and we were able to climb into the tent, onto our cold, hard bed, in hopes that if we spent more time in the vertical position the more sleep we might actually get - <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">sheesh</span> - wishful thinking. We cuddled up with one blanket below us, one above us, and a receiving blanket each to use as makeshift pillows ... where's Mac.<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Guyver</span> when we need him?</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>And after:</div><ul><li>ENDLESSLY tossing and turning in order to re invoke the blood flow to my shoulders and hips<br /></li><li>12AM: inserting <a href="http://www.warmers.com/">hand warmers</a> into my socks (forgot I had these in the diaper bag - for battling Mastitis - go figure!) </li><li>1 AM: placing towels over Dru's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">PNP</span> to keep out the COLDER than 40 degree weather!</li><li>2 AM: stealing all of my son's clean diapers to stack under my "ground blanket" in hopes of providing a bit of cushion (hey, at least the Nanny held up her end of the deal - the only one of us who didn't forget to pack SOMETHING!)</li><li>3 AM: being painfully aware of the overnight low temperature and worrying about <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">DS</span>.</li><li>4 AM: a near confrontation with what we think were some frightening R.O.U.S's </li></ul><div><br /></div><div></div><div>... somewhere I squeezed in 1 1/2 hours of sleep and was singing the Lord's praises come 6AM when Dru started stirring. Now at home, I would let <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">DS</span> fiddle-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">faddle</span> away in his crib until 7AM (the timing of his breakfast bottle) or sooner if he started crying, but I tell you at that first sign of movement - I swooped!</div><div> </div><div>I announced that I could handle this no more and needed to head home to get back to my temp.ur.pedic bed (and missing pillows). But of course, not before we woke the ENTIRE campgrounds with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">DS's</span> <a href="http://www.respisense.com/en/index.php">portable SIDS monitor</a> alarming because I had dislodged it while excitedly pulling him from his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">PNP</span> for his morning bottle ... as if the screeching and crescendo-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">ing</span> siren wasn't enough a screaming baby <em>had</em> to jolt nearby sleepers from their deep (and likely air mattress cushioned) sleep. But I'm not bitter.</div><div><br />... we squeezed in a cup of warm soup and a walk before we headed out. And no, we didn't get to use the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">Kel</span>.<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">ty</span> that perpetuated our late arrival ... but we didn't head out of there empty handed, heck, we now we have this lovely story to recant.</div><div><br />So yes it might not have been the best idea to take a 7 month old on a camping trip (people told me at this age, crawling in the dirt is NO fun!) ... but not because he didn't behave, sleep, or nap well ... it was because there is a reason for the "camping supply" isles at stores ... it's because SUPPLIES ARE NEEDED FOR THIS SORT OF THING!</div><div><br />And now a couple more pictures for enduring that long (but mildly entertaining) story:</div><div><br /></div><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505523347951224786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Tw-7b2r7Ifo/TGeMUMFAh9I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/HVoEkPBGSWk/s400/Camping2.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505523043289075778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Tw-7b2r7Ifo/TGeMCdH5EEI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/w_Imoa1y9jQ/s400/Camping1.jpg" border="0" /></div></div><br /><p> </p><p>*Special thanks to Jeny for suggesting we bring a warm fleece hat for little one for the cold mornings, or in our case - the cold ALL.NIGHT.LONG's!</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-83556296773843474412010-07-18T02:42:00.000-07:002010-07-18T02:46:49.795-07:00Infertility still hurtsIt's 2:30 in the morning and I'm not asleep ... insomnia, not the baby. He sleeps like ... well, a baby.<br /><br />I've been going through my google reader and just catching up on some blogs. And I run into friends that have struggled with infertility for years, still brokenhearted ... gaping holes in their hearts, palpable pain. They are no longer on FF or are no longer blogging, many have turned their blogs private and I'm unsure if asking to be invited only pains them more.<br /><br />I miss these women. My heart aches for these women.<br /><br />Although we've won the battle. The shrapnel of infertility is still buried deep. I feel like I've left my fellow soldiers in the trenches and it pains me deeply.<br /><br />Can anybody relate?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-46619877414562984192010-06-27T00:04:00.000-07:002010-06-27T00:10:14.099-07:006th month picturesIt's easy to see why I'm so in love with this kid ...<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487346113120249474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Tw-7b2r7Ifo/TCb4N3gnJoI/AAAAAAAAAZc/AS33_Gk98OA/s400/Chew.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />He gets these cheeks from his daddy :)<br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487346350257919138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Tw-7b2r7Ifo/TCb4bq6o1KI/AAAAAAAAAZk/UiVndpAHUdE/s400/Bum.jpg" border="0" /></p><br /><br />The family photo:<br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487346506542743922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Tw-7b2r7Ifo/TCb4kxH2AXI/AAAAAAAAAZs/sfip9OLEgTQ/s400/Fam.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>I still pinch myself.</p><p><br /><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-11851435149205421112010-06-10T10:20:00.001-07:002010-06-10T10:46:38.979-07:00Operation "DINNER OUT"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Ok</span>, I have to post SOMETHING.<br /><br />I have not fallen off the face of the earth. Things are going great and I thought I should at least share that.<br /><br />I keep delaying posting because I feel like I have to catch up ... well, with working full time, being a mom, a wife, keeping the house clean, keeping up on dishes, laundry, bills, trying to eat right, get sleep, exercise, still have time for friends, family, and my relationship with the Lord ... let's just say: it's a bit overwhelming ;-)<br /><br />I can't believe <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Drudoc</span> is nearly 6 months old.<br /><br />The short of it:<br /><ul><br /><li>We are still exclusively breastfeeding.</li><br /><li>He's sleeping through the night 7P to 7A.</li><br /><li>He's taking 3 naps a day.</li><br /><li>We did <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Babywise</span> and are very happy with it.</li><br /><li>He's in the 90% for height (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Berilac</span> is 6'3")</li><br /><li>He's in the 75% for weight</li><br /><li>He's got a normal size noggin.</li><br /><li>He can still squeeze into his 6 month attire but according to his size he should be wearing 9-12 month clothes.</li><br /><li>He's in size 3 diapers.</li><br /><li>He's nearly grown out of his infant carrier <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">car seat</span> ... we NEED NEED NEED to get those <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">convertible</span> car seats!</li><br /><li>We haven't started solids with him yet and won't until he's showing signs that he's ready.</li><br /><li>He eats about 40 oz. a day, over 5 feeds. (1 breastfeeding session, 4 bottles of expressed <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">breast milk</span>)</li><br /><li>We are going to wean early to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">TTC</span>#2, because we knew about this we pumped and stashed <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">breast milk</span> since day one. Right now we have over 1,000 oz. of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">breast milk</span> in the deep freezer.</li><br /><li>I returned back to work at the beginning of May when he was 4+ months old.</li><br /><li>He's in a top notch daycare facility, but we have been looking for a nanny for months.</li><br /><li>He started rolling over from front to back at 4 months, he started rolling over from back to front at 5 months.</li><br /><li>He started sitting up assisted at 5 months, he started sitting up unassisted at 5 1/2 months.</li><br /><li>He's been <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">coo'ing</span> and "talking" since 3 months. He started squealing like a pterodactyl since 4 months.</li><br /><li>He smiles & laughs ALL.THE.TIME</li><br /><li>He's starting to lift his arms up to signal that he wants to be held.</li><br /><li>He's always trying to sit up out of his bouncy, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">exersaucer</span>, swing, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">car seat</span>, etc.</li><br /><li>He cut his first gum (bottom right) two days ago!</li><br /><li>DH and I have been going out on dates without him since 3 weeks - not regularly because we don't have family in the area, but we try to keep the marriage fresh ;-)</li><br /><li>Some of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Drudoc's</span> favorites are: kicking his feet, assisted bouncing on his legs, and practicing standing; the songs "I know an old lady who swallowed a fly" & "five little monkeys jumping on the bed", the book "On the night you were born", his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">melissa</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">doug</span> wooden key ring set, his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">lamaze</span> butterfly, those darn plastic interlocking rings, an empty disposable tin casserole dish he can bang. </li></ul><br /><br />He is the light of my life.<br /><br />I'll leave you with a picture of us having dinner the other night (hence the name of the post!). This was our first family dinner out. It was a few weeks ago, we walked downtown to a nice Thai restaurant and had dinner sitting outside. You can see that little one is nearly ready to take <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">breast milk</span> or water out of a regular cup! Sometimes he tries to drink the bathwater with the plastic cup I give as a toy ... you gotta keep your eye on this one.<br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481201422700782658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Tw-7b2r7Ifo/TBEjpz5yJEI/AAAAAAAAAZU/Xh-oZK-Fw-M/s400/dinner.JPG" border="0" /></p><p>And yes ... he looks just like his mama.<br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-9736258582845619582010-02-19T00:15:00.001-08:002010-02-19T01:01:24.795-08:00RSV and our NICU stay<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Tw-7b2r7Ifo/S35RfDxeb5I/AAAAAAAAAZM/3w2y3YVdgRU/s1600-h/nicu.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439874993940754322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Tw-7b2r7Ifo/S35RfDxeb5I/AAAAAAAAAZM/3w2y3YVdgRU/s400/nicu.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I am so happy to report that our little one is doing fine, but we did have a stay in the Stan.ford NICU this week.</div><br /><div></div><div>Last Thursday I noticed Drudoc coughed when I picked him up out of his crib. I didn't think much of it until the coughs kept coming. By Friday afternoon we found ourselves in the Pediatric urgent care. The attending doctor said that he did not have whooping cough nor pneumonia but just a cold. She indicated that it should last 7 days with it peaking its worst by day 3 or 4. She said we could take him up north for the weekend and that she wasn't going to give us a nebulizer, she thought he'd be just fine.</div><br /><div></div><div>Saturday morning came and we were supposed to head to Sonoma County, but just as I was loading him into his car seat he vomited all over himself, me, and the carseat. I decided that this little boy needed to be home to have the best chance of overcoming this cold. So Berilac went ahead without us. </div><br /><div></div><div>Saturday evening I called Berilac and asked him to drive home (an hour and a half drive) because poor little Drudoc had been coughing without stopping for nearly 30 minutes. I couldn't find a comfortable position for him ... he was starting to vomit up every other meal and coughing is what was triggering that. I needed to help him stay upright in order NOT to gag and vomit his food ... but he's so heavy, I couldn't see myself holding him upright all night long.</div><br /><div></div><div>Sunday things seemed to stay the same, along with Monday during the day.</div><br /><div></div><div>But by Monday late night/early morning I noticed that Drudoc was laboring to breath. His respiratory rate was 65-75. The on-call nurse asked us to bring him in immediately. We took him to Pediatric urgent care, when we arrived they took his oxygen levels and his sat level was between low 80's to low 90's. The attending Pediatrician told us that they would need to admit him to the NICU. They took a nose swab because Stan.ford NICU was not currently taking flu infected infants. We waited in an observation room with poor little Drudoc getting oxygen and trying to breath through his incredible congestion. My heart was breaking as I'd never seen Drudoc cry so much ... he really didn't like the cannula or the oxygen monitor at all. When the swab results came back negative (for RSV or flu) they sent an ambulance to transport us to the hospital.</div><br /><div></div><div>We arrived to the NICU on Tuesday morning before noon. Nurse Lilly encouraged us to get some lunch while she took samples for some tests they needed to take - a couple of blood tests and a few swabs, as well as an X-Ray. Berilac and I went down to the hospital cafeteria and I sobbed through my turkey burger. The nurses and Berilac were trying to encourage me that I didn't do anything to cause this, but I wasn't concerned about being a bad mom or doing something wrong - I am very confident in how much precaution I take with the safety of my son - rather, I was crying because I was scared I was going to lose my son. When you've lost 4 babies ... you more easily find the possibility of losing another. </div><br /><div></div><div>When we were back from lunch the blood results had come back and they were all normal. Drudoc was hydrated and didn't need an IV, nor did he have an infection - so he didn't need antibiotics. The swabs came back negative for flu A and flu B as well as for the H1N1 ... but it came back positive for RSV. Evidently, the original swab was not as specific as the NICU swab. Now the staff knew that their role in our case was just to support him as he recovered from the virus ... "time is the tincture" was their saying. They really only needed to suction his mucus (nearly every other hour) and provide him a low level of oxygen. They told us that compared to the many cases they see in their level 1 NICU, Drudoc's was a mild case. Severe enough to be hospitalized, but mild compared to most they've seen.</div><br /><div></div><div>Berilac and I spent the evening there - we left around 12:30A that night. We went home and tried to get some rest. The staff kept encouraging us to take advantage of this time, with our son being under some amazing care. </div><br /><div></div><div>The next morning, I thought I felt a sore throat upon waking up. I headed down to the hospital to breastfeed Drudoc, while I was there, I mentioned my possible sore throat and the staff asked me not to come back if I think it was a real sore throat (and not just a dry throat from sleeping with my mouth open). I went home and took a nap. To be safe, Berilac headed to the hospital without me that evening after work to care for and feed our little one (all the while I was pumping and providing my breastmilk for Drudoc to consume) ... my heart was breaking as I sat at home missing my boys. </div><br /><div></div><div>This morning, both Berilac and I woke up with sore throats! We called the NICU and they asked us to bring down the milk, but to avoid spending time with Drudoc, so I pumped and headed down. When I arrived I was fortunate enough to catch the doctor after her rounds. She indicated that Drudoc had gone nearly 24 hours without oxygen support and he hadn't needed to be suctioned since last night. She told me I could take home my little one that afternoon.</div><br /><div></div><div>Even though it was a short stay, and things weren't as dangerous as they could have been, I was so grateful; I went out and bought supplies to make a thank you gift basket for the staff. They took such good care of our little boy, and he's doing so much better thanks to God's healing and their gentle care. </div><br /><div></div><div>I'm so happy to report that Drudoc arrived home late this afternoon and is now sleeping peacefully in his room. We are sequestering him there until his well baby visit on 2/24. No visitors, lots of handwashing, and lots more prayers.</div><br /><div></div><div>I'd like to thank all of my friends and family who prayed for us over these past couple of days - we are so grateful for your love and support. And thank you Lord for keeping our little boy safe.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4010332933050943413.post-51785509503221884482010-01-04T22:40:00.000-08:002010-02-25T15:11:51.130-08:00The Birth Story<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Tw-7b2r7Ifo/S2OBPGidZsI/AAAAAAAAAZE/gFUaZnqCAw4/s1600-h/pic2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432327671992116930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Tw-7b2r7Ifo/S2OBPGidZsI/AAAAAAAAAZE/gFUaZnqCAw4/s400/pic2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>We were scheduled for an induction on Friday, December 18<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span>. I arrived being 2 1/2 centimeters <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">dilated</span>, 50% effaced, -1 station, and bag of waters bulging. We so thought that I would go into labor naturally prior to being induced, but I guess that wasn't how our story would unfold ...<br /><br /><strong>Friday, December 18<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">th</span>, 6:00AM</strong><br />The plan was for us to call in to Labor and Delivery at 6AM and have them tell us what time to come in. We were originally scheduled to arrive at 7:30AM. We called in at 6AM and they had us call back at 8AM, we called at 8 and they wanted us to call back at 10 ... the morning kept on like this as we tried to take cat naps in between calls to see if we should come in. You see, the night before the scheduled induction I had a very hard time sleeping and was lucky if I got 4 hours of sleep ... so each time we were postponed, I tried to take the opportunity for a nap. Many calls and many naps later - we finally checked into L&D at 2PM. We were given room number 1, which was tucked all the way back, against an outside wall ... so we wouldn't have to worry about screams coming in from every side! Directly across the hall from the room was the L&D waiting room.<br /><br /><strong>December 18<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">th</span>, 2:00PM</strong><br />The first order of business was to sanitize the ENTIRE place. The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">doula</span>, my mother-in-law (MIL) and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Berilac</span> all grabbed wipes and got to cleaning ... it was something to keep us busy for 2 hours while we waited for them to start the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Pitocin</span>.<br /><br /><br /><strong>December 18<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">th</span>, 4:00PM</strong><br />Around 4PM they took blood work and started the Pit drip. I was lucky to be at hospital that induces slowly. My <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">doula</span> told me that if she HAD to be induced at any hospital on the Peninsula then THIS hospital would be the ONLY place she'd get induced.<br /><br /><strong>December 18<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">th</span>, 8:00PM</strong><br />At about 8PM I started really feeling the contractions. I was planning on having a pain-med free birth (or at least I was trying to) so it was at about this time that I started breathing through the contractions as they came - they were about 90 seconds apart at this point.<br /><br /><strong>December 18<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">th</span>, 10:00PM</strong><br />It was only a few hours later (with the Pit turned up to help labor along) that the contractions really started to get unbearable. On a trip to the restroom I felt a gush before I could make it to the toilet and it turned out that my bag of waters had broken.<br /><br />Only 3 people were allowed with me in the labor and delivery room. The two people I definitely wanted in there were my hubby and my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">doula</span>. I've always dreamed that my mother and my mother in law could also share these moments with us, but given that the hospital only allowed 3 people in the room, and given that family had to travel into the area to be with us ... we decided that only <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Berilac</span> and the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">doula</span> would be in the room for delivery and we'd play labor by ear. Well, during this stage of labor my MIL was with us (as she was staying with us from out of state) so she stayed with us ... all the way through the hard stuff.<br /><br /><strong>December 19<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">th</span>, 1:00AM</strong><br />As I mentioned earlier, when I went in for my 39 week appointment, just 4 days prior to induction, I was 2 1/2 cm <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">dilated</span>, 50% effaced, with bulging waters. When I went into L&D, they didn't check me until I was well into labor ... so I have no idea what my actual stats were when I came in. At 1AM, they finally checked me and I was 6 cm <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">dilated</span>, 80% effaced, and still -1 station - I was so excited to have made that much progress!<strong>December 19<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">th</span>, 3:00AM</strong><br />It was amazing experiencing the contractions ... as they went from tolerable to completely unbearable. With each stage of intensifying pain, I tried to figure out a way to "stay in control" and "stay on top of them" ... and I did SO WELL for about 9 hours. I started by breathing through the contractions, then moved to praying through them, then I switched to thoughts of knowing that my body knew what it was doing and to work with it, from there it morphed into making a sound that kind of sounded like "open" as I tried to envision my cervix opening ... then those mean nurses turned that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Pitocin</span> up again ... and all I could do was moan and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">writhe</span> in inescapable pain. I spent two hours in what my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">doula</span> thought was transition. I was having very strong back and abdomen contractions that were lasting 90 seconds with 30 second breaks in between. I was sweating, I was shaking, and sadly I was gagging from my pregnancy induced acid reflux ... so those 30 seconds of break I had weren't really too helpful. It was at this point that my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">doula</span> suggested we take a look and see how far I'd progressed. The doctor came for the internal ... and I was still 6cm <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">dilated</span> and now more than 80% effaced ... but not by much.<br /><br /><br />I.WAS.DEVISTATED ... I thought for SURE all that work I had done had gotten me somewhere ... but it hadn't.<br /><br /><strong>December 19<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">th</span>, 4:00AM</strong><br />The doctor offered to break the water in hopes that things would really take off. We decided that I needed to get upright in order to help the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">dilation</span> process ... the nurses, at the same time, upped the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Pitocin</span> and all hell broke loose. The pain was so incredible I wasn't sure how I could survive. Prior to coming into L&D, my plan was to be in the shower during this time to "take the edge off" ... however, the telemetry equipment wasn't working in my room and in being on the Pit, they wouldn't allow me to not be monitored ... and so, I couldn't get into the shower. I labored like this for 45 more minutes, bouncing on the ball, making noises I didn't even know I could make, requiring that MIL hold a fan in my face, while hubby held my hand tightly as the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">doula</span> provided <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">counterpressure</span> on my back ... our little team was amazing - I can't begin to describe how intense we worked, all trying to get through this labor thing together ... after 45 minutes I asked to be checked again.<br /><br /><br /><br />Still ... no progress.<br /><br /><br /><strong>December 19<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">th</span>, 5:00AM</strong><br />So in all of that time, no progress and a ton of unbearable, back-to-back contractions. This is when I demanded to talk with the anesthesiologist. God showed favor that day. We didn't have to wait for the doctor to get out of a 3 hour emergency surgery, nor did we even have to wait 30 minutes for him to get onto the department floor ... no, it was as if that man was waiting outside my door. He came in, explained everything then asked me what I wanted to do ... well, I didn't ask you in here to make a new friend ... let's get this thing going! I requested a "light" epidural, as I wanted to be able to feel the sensation of pushing and to be able to work with it. He agreed. Between contractions he worked quickly to give me the drugs I needed. Within minutes my right side was in complete relief. The doctor asked how it felt and I told him that it was only working on one side, but that I didn't care ... one side of pain was NOTHING compared to what I'd been going through for hours :-) we <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">laid</span> me on my side and the numbness spread through my entire trunk and both legs ... <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">ahh</span> ... relief! I really liked that doctor. He explained everything to me and addressed all my concerns with answers and respect. It was only later that I learned that he didn't give me a "light" epidural, but rather a spinal/epidural combination ... which, as I understand it, is heavier than a plain epidural!!<br /><br /><br />So there I was 5AM ... epidural administered, instructed by my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">doula</span> to rest up for delivery ... and all I could do was sit in the dark for 3 hours and worry about getting an amniotic embolism. (If you are not familiar with this and you're pregnant or intending to become pregnant, don't look it up ... just don't ... ignorance is bliss).<br /><br /><strong>December 19<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">th</span>, 8:00AM</strong><br />We learned that, a few hours after getting the epidural, I had progressed to 9 cm with a lip of my cervix still in place. And we continued to wait and rest ...<br /><br /><strong>December 19<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">th</span>, 10:00AM</strong><br />The nurse checked us again and we were finally <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">completely</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">dilated</span>, and at +1 station!<br /><br />... we continued to wait the extra hours while the baby descended from zero station to negative 2.<br /><br /><strong>December 19<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">th</span>, 12:00PM</strong><br />It wasn't until nearly noon on Saturday that we were ready to push.<br /><br /><strong>December 19<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">th</span>, 1:35PM</strong><br />One hour and 45 minutes later, at 1:35PM, little Drudoc was born. As I mentioned before, he wasn't a small baby: weighing in at 8 pounds 11 ounces and 21 inches long. He was large enough to cause a second degree tear that required sufficient stitches, but I did not <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38">hemorrhage</span> and the placental delivery was unremarkable.<br /><br />I remember pushing him out and the doctor saying ... well keep pushing! (<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39">evidently</span> I thought I could stop when I got the head out!) the room went quiet as <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40">Berilac</span> announced: "It's a boy, honey, here's our son" ... and he and the doctors placed him on my chest. I wish I could say that I cried ... like I had so many times watching "A Ba.by <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41">Stor</span>.y" and wishing beyond hope that someday I could experience the utter bliss these people were fortunate enough to experience ... but instead my response was: "it's a baby, it's really a baby, and it's alive" ... I'm sure the staff thought I was a nut case. But seriously, I could hardly believe that we were fortunate enough to experience this amazing joy. Then the baby (healthy as could be) started wailing in cries and I responded with ... "what do I do with him?" .... ah yes, a typical new parent.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42">Berilac</span> cut the cord, the nurses washed him up and we started breastfeeding right away. The three of us spent some time together in the L&D room before <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43">Berilac</span> went out to the waiting room to announce that we had had a baby boy.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com26