"It can't hurt to TRY..."

After the endless hours of psychotically cleaning, crying then coping with the concept of the "c-section pooch", reading anything I could get my hands on, packing my bag, and making my home 'surgery friendly', Ben is not here. Although I was frustrated at the time, and looked at the doctor like she had two heads, I know this is for the best.

I was told I was absolutely going to need a c-section- not by one, but at least three different doctors. I was informed that after 34 weeks, if the placenta hadn’t moved away from the cervix, it wasn’t going anywhere...WRONG! Right before my amnio to confirm that his lungs were developed enough for delivery, we decided to do one last ultrasound...primarily to make me feel better. A doctor and a tech confirmed that my placenta is still low lying, but has shifted off to the side leaving JUST enough room for this baby to squeeze on by, or so I hope.

In the words of the glorious doctor whom I had met for the first time- "It can't hurt to try a vaginal delivery." Who the hell is she kidding? Now I know after watching thousands of birthing videos on you tube, after spending two nights in the hospital listening to the screams of women in labor, and after the gazillion stories I have heard from total strangers waiting in line at Walgreens that it hurts...A LOT! Episiotomies, tears, blood, stretching...yeah, I think I'll be a little pissed if they tell me I still need a c-section after an attempt at a traditional labor.

My doctor is on vacation this week, and when I asked the dink who is covering for him exactly how far my placenta had moved, she said "They won't attempt unless it is greater than 2 cm away". Ok, so I ask how far mine is "greater than 2cm away." Ok, are we talking 2.1 cm, 4 cm..."It doesn't specify". My Lord, do they know how to calm down an irrational pregnant woman.

To further enhance my frustration, the statistics were so, so in my favor. I knew that I would be having this baby on August 31. I was still in the comfort zone of weight, right around 30lbs. So what did I decide to do? Well, after months of watching what I ate, bypassing cravings, walking a few miles a day (until I was bed-rested)? I hit up every Mickey D's on the east coast for that snack size, heavenly, scrumptious, Reese's McFlurry. Let me tell you...my second chin will confirm this.

So now I sit here bouncing on a medicine ball, a bottle of hot sauce in my lap, praying to Jesus that Benjamin will grace this world prior to my due date. Although I know nothing about a traditional labor, I am confident that I can and will successfully push this child out of me. Even though the internal ultrasound penis like probe, condom and all hurt like a bitch the other day, I know I can push out a watermelon, lol. AHHHHHHHH! Life is not very predictable.

Here's to hoping...

In just about one week I will 'officially' be a mother...that is assuming nothing changes. I was admitted into the hospital for a second time due to light bleeding. Nothing alarming, especially since everything went well after the first bleed. To be honest, we almost didn't go into the emergency room, but we opted to be safe...just in case.

When the on-call doctor returned my call, I explained the situation and that I have a previa. I told her that I wasn't particularly concerned, she didn't seem too alarmed either. I was told to just come in for an hour or so to monitor the baby. Well..they didn't let me leave. It actually had nothing to do with bleeding. Apparently, I had a contraction and the baby didn't respond well to it. I don't recall having a contraction, but I guess it happened. I would like to give a shout out to my son for messing with the monitor ten minutes before I was to be released. Thank you Benjamin.

For the rest of the glorious evening, I was attached to a monitor by some nipple like device gouging into my stomach. Every hour a nurse had to come in and readjust it for me...wonderful for beauty sleep. Eventually, the next morning they did free me. THANK GOODNESS!!! I cannot imagine being on hospital bed rest; the idea of playing in traffic seems much more appealing. I told the nurse that if they came to the 'bed rest' conclusion they might as well send me to the psych ward over at the medical school. At least they'd let me color over there.

At about 8 am today, I heard a scream. The type of scream you imagine can only be projected when you have been picked up by a serial killer who is about to mutilate you, as you step on an underground hornet nest, and see Ron Jeremy naked in the distance. My doctor just so happened to walk in at that moment. Now my doctor is not a 'talker' nor does he show any interest in you other than the desire to safely deliver your child and move on with his life...I'm okay with that. I looked over at him, cringing, and said "is she in labor?". He obviously responded yes. I looked over at my husband and geeked out. "Holy shit," I said, "It really sounds like that?". The doctor sort of laughed. "Are you messing with me doc? Is someone blasting an episode of ER on the tv somewhere?" He really laughed and then closed the door to block the sound. Mike said it was to prevent scaring me, I know it was out of fear of the woman hearing my sickening laughter. I glanced over to the doctor one more time and said "Well....here's to c-sections."

So as it stands, I am volunteering to go on home bed rest as of Thursday. Every time I'm admitted into the hospital I hallucinate dollar signs...my insurance isn't as great as i'd like. That leaves me with just a few days until the c-section...woo hoo. Am I scared? ABSOLUTELY. Has the the concept of parenthood hit me yet? NOT AT ALL. I know it's all going to work out though.

I have one more ultrasound to see if anything has changed with the placenta. I've finally accepted the complications and the plan. I honestly cannot take any more changes.So here's to hoping! Not to mention the woman in the hospital scared the crap out of me. I told Mike that if surgery wasn't already scheduled, I would have been sitting in a puddle on the bed.

Baby-Q

After weeks of planning, Mike and I finally had our Baby-Q. It may seem semi-tacky to plan you own anti-shower, but I think it was appropriate in our situation. If you know anything about me, you understand that I have an incredibly small family and spent most of my time hanging out with guys. This is never an ideal for a 'traditional shower'. Furthermore, I hate pastels, the concept of snicker diapers makes me want to gag, and no one, absolutely no one is going near me with string in an effort to guess my waist size.

We opted for the baby-q, our way of including the men and women in our life, all ages. I had a lot of help from family and friends...there is no way I could have pulled this off completely on my own. We rented a sportsmen club, set up tents outside, a volley ball net, and Mike's band played. Inside there was a bar and we set up for a pot-luck. We covered the meat, but everyone else brought sides and desserts...it worked out beautifully.

Now as I mentioned, this was my version of an 'anti-shower'. It enabled all of our friends and family members to join us in celebrating the upcoming birth of Benjamin, while relaxing and chilling out. My only request was to NOT open the presents in advance. To me, this is the WORST part of the baby shower. Ohhhhing and awwwwing over diapers and breast pumps. Watching an uncomfortable and often humiliated pregnant woman cooo, when all she really wants to do is find the nearest bathroom and then hit up Mickey D's for a McFlurry. Absolutely torturous.

My plan was going accordingly, until someone made the announcement to 90 guests..."Steph is going to open the gifts inside, if anyone cares to watch." I instantly turned red, mortified at the turn of events. I tried to run but was attacked from multiple angles. A herd of women marched into the hall...I knew I had no chance. A chair was moved into the front of the room, and all eyes were on me. I looked at the table, knowing this would take forever...and it did...2 hours!!!

While the men sat outside, enjoying the amazing 70 degree day, sipping beers and listening to music, I was inside trying to figure out what the heck half of this stuff was. I appreciate every item and understand that we are tremendously fortunate to have such generous and loving people in our life..it was just EXHAUSTING. To the next woman, oddly planning her baby-q...explain in advance that you would like to take home the items to really look them over and enjoy opening them with your husband. This will spare you a lot of grief and stress.

All in all, I'm thrilled with how things turned out. The alternative to our idea was the foofy, all female shower...I know I would have looked like a sulking four year old had I been forced into that. OR no shower, and I think every child deserves to be celebrated. Our friends and family...even the men enjoyed themselves. The feedback we received after made all the planning worth it.

Clear the air!

Yes, it's Saturday, and yes, it's 5:55 a.m. As much as I would like to say I am awake and blogging thanks to my precious Benjamin, I can't. At this moment, there is a symphony in my bedroom. The musicians, Penny Lane and Mike.

Last night, my dearest husband decided to whip up an experimental batch of chili. The exact contents are unknown to me; whatever they include, they are lethal. At 5 a.m., as I rose for my quarterly, evening bathroom visit, I was almost knocked over by the horrendous odor lingering in my bedroom. It was like we were the 'Big Three', creating some secret gas based weapon for WWII in our sleep. Instantly, I hopped up, disgusted, opening windows, turning on the loud and wobbly fan above our bed.

Penny Lane grunted, as if I was the rude one, disturbing her rest. Mike grabbed the blankets and rolled over, completely ignoring me. But as I sat up in my bed, looking at these two stinky creatures, I thought to myself, 'my God, am I the luckiest woman in the world'. I have such a beautiful family.

It's insane how the most random, and often disgusting occurrences can make us appreciate our loved ones. I can't wait to add another stinky edition to this family.

There's no road map to life.

Some things you simply cannot plan. This is a difficult concept for me; I am absolute control freak. When I have a vision, it is exclusively mine. No one else could possibly see it the way I do. So I take on far more work than necessary.

Yesterday, I went in for my monthly exam and another ultrasound. Eight weeks prior, an ultrasound revealed that my placenta was low-lying (placenta previa). At the time the doctor said it was no big deal. In 90% of occurrences prior to 20 weeks, the placenta moves up on its own. (http://www.webmd.com/baby/guide/placenta-previa-topic-overview). Unfortunately, I am 31 weeks and it hasn't budged.

It was funny, because I was so infatuated with this ultrasound. The baby looked so different then in the past. He is so big and REAL now. He was blinking and drinking...I think he enjoyed my breakfast burrito. He had has hand covering his face; this was driving the tech insane, since she was unable to get a clear profile picture of him. She kept shaking my stomach. Ben was clearly annoyed, kicked and refused to move...typical.

Not only did I receive the traditional 'belly' ultrasound, but I also had to get another internal ultrasound...you know, the penis like device wearing a condom. Apparently, where and how this placenta settled was of interest, and the tech remarked that my insides resemble something that would be presented at a medical conference...leave it to me to have wacky insides.

After the doctor reviewed the images, he came in for my actual exam. To give you an idea of my doctor, he is a typical, no bullshit kind of man. On a normal visit, he walks in, pokes my stomach, asks if I have any questions, and walks out. I appreciate this guy because on a delivery table he wouldn't want to hold my hand. I pictured him more like a drill Sergeant; telling me to shut up, suck up the pain, and freakin push. That's what I need. Yesterday, at my exam, he sat down. Ugh.

To summarize, the placenta probably will not move and will remain blocking the cervix. Is there a chance in the next four weeks it will? Yes. Likely? No. Benjamin's due date is September 22. What will probably happen- I may be going in for a cesarean section on September 2. There are several reasons why we would deliver him a month early; most of them are related to my safety and not the baby's. At 37 weeks, his lungs should be developed enough to not need the assistance of a respirator. Prior to the delivery, I would receive an amniocentesis, a prenatal test, where the doctor will place a needle through my stomach and into the amniotic sack to take a fluid sample. This test will determine if the baby's lungs are developed enough.

Worst-case scenario, the needle could break my water and Ben will need to be delivered even if his lungs are weak. This would result in a longer visit to the NICU. If we wait until I am full term, there is a risk that I may bleed, and could ultimately die if I do not reach a medical facility in time. I was advised to get to a hospital with any sign of blood, regardless of the quantity.

What's good is that I have felt great. The doctor said my pregnancy has moved along perfectly. I'm on target with everything, weight, blood pressure, sugar levels, etc. He said something like this is very unusual, not only for my age, but also being my first pregnancy. No one ever said I was normal. Another positive is that things can still change with the next ultrasound. He wants me to go to the hospital for the next one...maybe more people will review it? I didn't ask. Also, I think they are supposed to be extra careful if I need another internal. I was even banned from sex...not that sex has actually been on my priority list.

For now, I'm just thinking positively. I've already drafted a list of c-section pros and cons. All I know is that this baby is alive and active. He kicks and punches me enough to remind me...I'm actually pretty grateful for that. I've accepted you can't plan for everything. Sometimes you simply have to give it God.

26 Weeks!

It's the little things that matter the most...

Every morning at approximately 6:15am, I wake up to this pinging sensation in my stomach. I hate to assume that he is already on a schedule, but I'm guessing this is a sign that I will never sleep late again...at least not for 13 years or so. As much as I used to love sleeping until Noon, if I didn't arise to that odd feeling in my belly, I'd be sad. It's Saturday morning and while my husband is asleep and my little brother in-law is clonked out on the couch, I'm sitting in the nursery, excited about what the future will bring.

It's been awhile since I have a had a chance to blog. I assume my postings may grow less frequent in the coming months. I wish I could say there was a lack of information or topics to discuss, but there's not...things have happened that would make most of my friends fall over laughing. There just isn't enough time in the day...even if there was, I doubt I'd be able to stay awake for it.

Since I last wrote, my abdomen has swelled into a massive beach ball. I'm still not 'waddling', but walking up a few flights of stairs is enough to send me into cardiac arrest. I continue to try and walk daily; lately, it's been tough with all the rain we have been getting. The alternative to these days are muggy, 90 degree days. I think I'm okay with a washout.

A few weeks ago, I was introduced to a new pregnancy luxury called hemorrhoids. What I was convinced was a minor rash, turned out to be something I swore would never happen to me. I remember being a kid and hearing my father grunt in pain in the bathroom. It often sounded like a cow was being massacred and I feared for his life. When inquiring with my mother, she would shrug with a slight snicker..."he's got hemorrhoids." I called the doctor's office in a panic. I was so ashamed, I whispered my problem to the nurse. It took four times repeating myself for her to hear me. Similar to my mother, she also laughed. "You're fine; it's perfectly normal and very common for pregnant women. Buy some over the counter cream...THEY'LL BE THERE FOR YOUR ENTIRE PREGNANCY!!!!"

Unbelievable, right? But I felt this need to discuss my ass with everyone. Mike came home and I announced my problem to him. I sat him down, held his hand, and confessed. It was quite liberating. After I made my announcement, Mike took a sigh of relief, thankful that I didn't have cancer or need an amputation. I thought about calling Preparation H and asking to become their new spokesperson, the face of Hemorrhoids, but I was just too busy with the nursery. In conclusion, don't be ashamed and live in secret when discovering these uncomfortable little bastards...you're NORMAL!

I have also been enlightened to many other embarrassing occurrences associated with pregnancy. Flatulence being a common visitor. We're all guilty of letting a silent one rip in the office or at the store. If anyone inquiries, we snub our noses up in disgust...who could have done such a crude thing? The concept of silent gas disappears with pregnancy. I fart and quite often for that matter. I will casually slip away from my cubicle and stroll into the back room attached to my small office. Confident that no noise will follow. Ready, set, Blahbbarrrrrrtttttttttttt! Yes, that's the noise; I felt I needed to elaborate. Instantly, my Irish skin turns beet red. I hear my co-workers laughing in delight. A bottle of Lysol is thrown at me for effect.

What about grooming? I've got this thing about visiting the OBGYN. Although lately, I could care less about what my darling husband thinks, any trip to the doctor requires preparation...until this past week. I made a last minute appointment due to a UTI...another fun thing about pregnancy. I came home early from work, hopped into the tub 20 minutes prior to leaving, assuming this was more than enough time to maintain. I grabbed the razor, looked down, and saw belly. ONLY BELLY! Where were my feet? If those were gone, you can correctly assume that nothing else was visible. I stood in the tub, shifting myself in bizarre yoga positions. I understand its importance as a pregnancy exercise more so than ever. I don't know what the outcome was...I couldn't find a hand mirror anywhere. However, it wouldn't surprise me if my doctor walked out of the office and collapsed on the floor laughing. I imagine myself looking like a poorly groomed, half-naked, chihuahua.

Aside from all of the above, when I am not in a comatose state, I am painting stars, and scouring thrift shops for rock n roll inspired decor for the nursery. I'll find great amusement in life if our son listens to hip-hop and never takes any interest in a musical instrument other than the recorder. The irony of life. Regardless, the room looks really cool and he probably won't remember it anyhow.

It's not possible for me to go over everything that has happened in the past weeks. I'm sure the story of Mike and I registering will be included in the near future...that was entertaining.