Not a good thing (tmi)

I had spotting yesterday. It was fairly mild, the happy colour, and happened (or at least was discovered) just before I got on the train - nothing since. It was a tough decision, get on the train, or turn around, but I opted for the train and I'm glad since nothing horrible happened.

My nurse doesn't work on Fridays, but I do have an after hours pager number. However, I'm not sure this is to that level - if it's "old" blood - brown - then whatever caused it is usually several days old, unless it's joined by new (pink/red) blood. I suspect that if it's not just little blood vessels in the cervix getting jostled (and I wasn't doing any cervix jostling of which *I* am aware) it was probably something to do with the stupid thing I did Tuesday, which was hauling heavy garbage cans around to the front of my parents' house.

So I'm playing doctor and putting myself on restrictions - walking ok; lifting not okay, and I'll talk to my nurse on Monday, as long as nothing else happens. If it does I'll call the after-hours number and probably head to emerg here. I hate these decisions. But I'm glad I have all the numbers. And I think as long as nothing new happens, this is the right decision. If I were in Toronto I might go in just to hear the heartbeat and be reassured, but given that I'm up in Ottawa, I think I won't, unless I get more upset. I reserve the right to change my mind. :)

I really did sort of freak out, in my understated way, on the train. I was pretty alone, and I didn't really want to go into details on my cell with everyone around listening, but I finally did go hide near the baggage and call Carl, who was in a meeting (at 7:30 pm, sigh, but he went out into the hall and reassured me). I realized that it's too late in terms of not-caring; if I lose this baby even now, before feeling movement or anything, it will still hurt - and be awfully final. Two in a row would just about do me in at this point.

So then I freaked out about the thyroid (increased risk of miscarriage and stillbirth) and how this pregnancy just doesn't seem to be going right and I'm not sure if that's just 'cause my body's a little beaten down or if it's a forecast of doom, and then I freaked out that I was stressing my body out freaking out. For the first time ever while pregnant I seriously considered a drink to calm down, but I have such a heavy do not drink feeling about pregnant women that I didn't.

I did, however, ask the steward (first class is nice for this; thank you fate for the sale on it this month) if it would be possible to get a milk microwaved, and I am sure he didn't want to, but I asked nicely and said I was really sorry about it but I was pregnant and stressed out by my day and it would make all the difference to me.

So he did. Truth works, sometimes. And that simple gesture plus the tryptophan (or whatever it is) in the hot milk did some of the trick. I also had an excellent (for travel fare) meal and ended up dozing for the last 45 minutes of the trip.

Today I feel okay; a little bit like I'm back in the more fear-filled place than the calmer daring to be a little hopeful place. But I'm so glad to be back in my own space, where it's not all cluttered and full of bad history. And I have today off and although I planned to write, I think I am mostly just taking it easy.

Shandra

Google is a dangerous thing

So this thyroid thing could be big trouble and cause bad things for the baby. Bah. It's good that they caught it if so, but the 4 weeks between now and the next test will seem long.

It would have been nice to have everything come back normal.

Shandra

blurry scans 'r' us

This is about life sized (maybe a liiiittle bigger):



Shandra

Appointment city

Carl had to go back to Ottawa yesterday so he was in the doghouse with me and my obstetrical team today. But it went okay.

We went over the labour, twice - once with the nurse, who said some things off the record I won't write down here but made me feel that she understood what happened the first time very well, and once with the ob, who also wants me to pull the summary report from Sick Kids. So that was stressful. He read my charts really carefully and where I had once mentioned sexual abuse issues he jumped on it and asked me, in a nice way, quite a lot about it. I felt quite cared for in a round way. No decisions on c-sections or anything yet, we'll just talk about it some more.

I got tossed back into that headspace (understandably) and so I cried in the bathroom later. If only I had gone to these people first.

I've lost 2 more lbs and am on warning about that; it may not be my fault because my thyroid reading was off, but this can be due to placenta creation fucking it up, so in a few weeks I have to have more tests for that. However I do have to make sure I eat proper good caloric food as much as possible, Or Else.

We also talked about bonding and they are going to hook me up, in a few months, with some classes around newborn care and things so that I get extra chances to think about a baby as opposed to a grave, and when my ob is away in the summer I am going to have appointments with alllll the people on call when I'm due so that if we do go vaginal, I will have met all the people involved.

And, oh yes, heard the baby's heartbeat. It was in fact a very nice sound.

Shandra

Oh my

It's been a while since I updated hasn't it? Here's another one of those entries that will have to be deleted before any progeny of mine learn to read.

Seeing that ultrasound (I know, I still have to scan it) really made me feel - odd. Up and down odd. I said to Carl yesterday that this has all happened in such a messy, unplanned way that the reality of perhaps a live birth and subsequent child is having a lot of trouble working its way in, and when it does, mostly what I do is panic that now I'm a really really messed up mum, rather than just a singular really messed up.

On Friday I actually did some of the pregnant woman thing: I had to flee my parents' home for a few hours and I ended up browsing used maternity and baby clothing. And that felt okay and I had a smidgen of hope and mentally went through what things we have (which is basically everything and unless this is a boy and we suddenly decide we have to have blue things really there is not much to buy.)

On the weekend I was really engaged elsewhere on Saturday; my head was in the clouds and I scarcely remembered to take my pre-natal vitamin and all that. I walked the dog and hung out online and wrote a bit.

Yesterday Carl and I went house-shopping and I actually told one of the agents that I was pregnant, and that was okay. I haven't told many people about it here and don't plan to for another month or two, so the ease of it was unexpected. But, there it is - we sort of do want a house with room for a baby, although both Carl and I winced a bit about it because it just brings back all those renovation projects "for the baby" that never came home.

We actually found a house that we both loved - oddly. It was small, which I didn't think Carl would go for, and in a compromise neighbourhood - not right in the thick of the Beaches but not too far away (Hunt Club area).

What was odd about both liking it was that it was completely, totally renovated - top of the line shit, with stainless steel appliances, tumbled marble backsplashes, a shower with 8 jets, deep jacuzzi tub in the basement, crown mouldings, and completely new gorgeous hardwood floors everywhere. Total showcase home. I didn't think we were into showcase homes; I thought we were more into quirky fixer-uppers (although we have agreed to try not to get into a real fixer-upper this time). But we were. We drooled.

We almost put an offer in but then decided it is really too small. Which it is on our spoilt-brat scale: it's a two-bedroom post-war bungalow. One bedroom would hold the queen sized bed and a nightstand; the other is 9x9 and so would indeed hold one small child, but there's no back door (and hence no door where you can store say, tennis rackets), there's very little closet space (except in the basement), and we'd have to get rid of at least half our things, literally. I couldn't for the life of me figure out where you'd keep a stroller because the entrance came into the kitchen and only had the world's tiniest coat closet. The basement was additional space - besides having the tub it had a big rec room with an exposed-brick wall, and then there was a room that could be a small office but would probably -have- to be a walk-in closet.

So all your stuff basically is down a flight of stairs and past the laundry room - not really how we live. Someone very neat who owns one pair of shoes would probably find it perfect.

(Or indeed, most of the rest of the world. But we are not quite there yet, in our development, and we like to have room for our ridiculous things.)

So we didn't go for it, because if we want a beautifully-reno'd tiny home there are a lot of them around.

But that was a surprise, and for a minute I almost wished that we could get it, which we could if we didn't have to have stollers and playpens and sooner or later tiny duck boots and raincoats. And that - desire - for a non-parentally complicated life really surprised me.

And then last night I cried because I don't want this baby, I want Emily. Which isn't logical; I can be sad for Emily and still want & love this one. But last night that was all disconnected and I was really just kind of angry at "having to be" pregnant instead of watching Emily work on walking, which is possibly what she would be doing right now. I think it's partly because I was pregnant at this time last year, tired in that third-trimester way, and I'm pregnant in that first-trimester way this year, and it makes me feel perpetually pregnant with very little payoff.

And it's partly because children, like lovers, are not replaceable. This baby will be its own self and my life will change and go on, but it really doesn't change that I miss Emily.

And I just have mixed feelings. I feel 98% sure that if you just presented me with a fully-grown baby and said here, I would be glad. But since that's not how it works, I am mostly a mess in that way.

It's good to have some more months to work this out.

Shandra

How to trigger the fuck out of me (but then happy day)

So. Mt. Sinai. What seemed like hundreds of pregnant women - special pregnancy unit, low-risk pregnancy unit, ultrasound lab, blood lab, etc., all spread out over the 3rd floor of the hydro building.

I did not, however, feel like a number. I got my card, checked in at the ultrasound desk, got the ok to go drop off the files at the low-risk unit, and went down to do so. Once I gave my name I got introductions to all the people I've been chatting with on the phone, plus more, and hugs and squeezes of reassurance. Then I trotted back to wait for the ultrasound.

The ultrasound was bad. I've had so many now I wasn't expecting any problems, but they couldn't get a good angle on witch baby and then they thought they saw cysts on my ovaries, which turned out to be something else, and they got in several techs and pushed the wand all around transvaginally (ie, up my vagina), and got me to move around, giving me permission to make noises or breathe funny if it hurt, which it did. It felt very much like a bad rape and I'm still sore. Also they didn't really comment on why they were doing this, except the cysts part, and only after they got some shots were they ready to say what was going on.

I was sure that really bad things were happening, and I had both labour and rape flashbacks, although they were low-key; just images. Still, it could have been a bad system moment. Next time I will not be so brave about going myself.

And the good news is that witch baby, despite not wanting to be photographed (Emily didn't either) is fine. In fact, so normal that they cancelled the 16 wk ultrasound on the spot. Low risk for Down's, arms, legs, hands, feet, organs all looking good thus far. And they suspect they saw ovaries, although they were careful to note that it's not for sure. So witch baby remains sexless just now, but does seem more of a witch baby than a warlock baby.

And - I was right, originally. We're not at 10w 6d but 11w 5d, so the first ultrasound was just -wrong- and we're only a couple of weeks away from the end of the first trimester (which is 14 wks long just to be confusing).

So chances are good it's a go. Of course Emily was fine up until she died, so.

After the ultrasound I met with my genetic counsellor (I was not aware I had one, but there you go - this is a very "show up and we'll take it from there" place) and she told me all this good anatomical news, and that what they never saw was the nose bone (which is another indicator for Down's) 'cause the baby would not look towards the pretty wand miles away through my flesh, but the neck measurement is so textbook they're really not worried.

I am not either 'cause I do not think I would terminate, but I am glad to know there are organs and lungs and things.

I was also weighed and I've lost 2 lbs, so it's good I'm feeling better and I have to eat lots of good food. Not a huge concern yet but something to work on.

So afterwards I went back down to the low-risk unit where I am a star and got more hugs and the requisitions for the 7 vials of blood and the urine test, got all that done, and got one more hug, and left. The whole thing took 2.5 hrs, and I go back Tues to meet Dr. Seaward, who was not in on the hugging (and from all accounts won't be; he apparently is a big grump with a profound hatred of obstetricians &/or nurses who let labour go on too long, who is also a brilliant diagnostician and spends his nights dreaming up esoteric things to test for before they become problems, and mostly works in the high-risk clinic.)

All in all it was a very good baby-news day. And they gave me a picture which I will scan later on.

Shandra

Why I'm So Tired

Your baby is no longer an embryo! Though she's barely the size of a kumquat — just an inch or so long, crown to bottom — and weighs less than a quarter of an ounce, she now has completed the most critical portion of her development. This is the beginning of the so-called fetal period, a time when the tissues and organs in her body rapidly grow and mature. Her vital organs — the liver, kidney, intestines, brain, and lungs — are now in place and starting to function (although they'll continue to develop throughout your pregnancy). Her liver continues to make blood cells, and the yolk sac, which previously supplied these cells, is no longer needed and begins to disappear.

During the next three weeks, your baby's length will more than double to nearly 3 inches. Her head is proportionately smaller now than it was a few weeks ago, but it's still almost half the length of her entire body. Her forehead temporarily bulges with her developing brain and sits high on her head; it will later recede to give her a more human appearance. Each day, more minute details — including tiny fingernails, toenails, and peach-fuzz hair — start to appear on her body. Her fingers are now completely separated; her arms bend at the elbow and curve slightly; her hands are flexed at the wrist and meet over her heart; her legs are lengthening; and her feet may be long enough to meet in front of her body. She is busily swallowing amniotic fluid and kicking her legs.

From babycenter.com

I feel so odd about these milestones. My reaction tends to be: yes and then they die! But I still read them and have that little "wow, fingernails" moment. I mean really: fingernails!

I never did have to cut Emily's fingernails, but they were a wonder.

I booked that week off.

Um - let's see, health updates. Saturday sucked, sucked, sucked. I was nauseous and tired all afternoon, slept on and off, and then woke up at 3 am Sunday and couldn't get back to sleep. For all that Sunday was okay - I was tired but I met my few obligations (lunch with family, train to Toronto) and it was ok.

I ate on the train and wasn't sick, but I stuck to the plainest food (beef). It was way too salty. I have my food notes somewhere, but not here (at work in Toronto).

My clothes are an issue. I still have issues with some of my old maternity stuff, plus everyone here saw it, so I probably should get some new. But I still feel strange about any of it. Maybe I'll wait 'til after Wed's ultrasound. A big part of me is somewhat convinced all the tiredness is because of some infection due to some lifeless floating dead embryo and not a real baby. Morbid, yeah. I do suffer moments of morbid thought now and then.

Shandra

Ugh

I got cocky yesterday; had a few glasses of milk, and tomato soup with vegetables for lunch.

By 5 pm I was lying on the couch wanting to die. The seabands could not conquer the bad decisions of the day. The best was that one of the cats threw up in the kitchen, and then I was sick in the bathroom, and just as I was coming out and thinking how to clean up the mess in the kitchen, Carl walked in - with his new coworker. I stood in front of the kitchen door the whole time. It was just - yuck. I'm sure it smelled. I'm sure I smelled.

I try to have a sense of perspective about these things - I mean all of having a kid is gross really; pregnancy and labour and delivery and then leaking milk and leaking diapers and puke everywhere. It's part of the territory.

But it would have been nice not to start this month. I was embarassed. Somehow I managed to recommend restaurants (he's staying at the Crown Plaza, our old haunting ground) and offer drinks (he didn't accept, thank god) and all the good stuff.

And at least I was dressed.

I still feel a bit shitty today, but I have got to go out, so I'm going to take my notebook to the library I think. I wanted to go to aquafit but honest, I think I would toss my cookies.

Lament, lament, lament.

Shandra

So, here is my problem

Courtesy of a phone call from a friend who knows me.

I feel that I am on a bit of a timeline with the universe here. Of course labour, being the traumatic even, is the focus, but it's larger than that. The question is, is it a malevolent or a benevolent world? (Yes, I understand it can be neutral, but I'm not really talking about the world at large but my heart's relationship to it.)

I have assiduously avoided dealing with this question for a long time. During Emily's pregnancy I did feel, strongly, that a part of my job in therapy and in things was to learn to ease up a bit. It's fine to be a hard-assed relatively self-sufficient person when you're only really responsible for yourself, because that hardness really only keeps you from whatever it keeps you from (some degress of connection, a certain skepticism, etc.). But my own feeling is that it's not the best position from which to raise children. I think kids need a lot of things, including learning that their parents will be hard-assed for them when appropriate, and to develop their own capacities and stuff.

But mostly I think they need a wide variety of people and experiences in their lives. Locking them up with some philosophy texts is not, to my mind, a good recipe. As I said a lot, I was always likely to have trouble leaving any child of mine anywhere I wasn't (or Carl wasn't) for a long period of time, especially before say, age 6 (or after age 14 - ahahahaha). But I was working very hard to be ready to spend time with other mums (and not being so picky as I am in my friends) and being open to family and willing to hang at the park and possibly go to a church and all these things that sort of say: here, community, connected.

And it was taking a lot of work. I mean my baby shower was a disaster in the planning, but wonderful in the event. I was trying to invite people in to this reasonably commonplace, but ultimately totally mindblowing, experience - the creation of a new human being. And that did carry us through a lot, and part of having Emily baptized with family around (and I will always regret that I sort of lost it around that point and started shutting people out too, telling people not to come like S to the hospital and Idaho to Toronto) was the last throes of that.

But the last.

Because I have this broken faith with the world. I did forever, growing up, 'cause of abuse stuff. And it was years of working on that that got me even to the point where I could consider it at all an idea that perhaps it didn't have to be that way and perhaps I wouldn't have to pass on that distrust to my kid. (Critical thinking skills - yes. A belief that all people are assholes - no.) But then this thing happened (physics and biology really - you squish this too hard, no blood can get through, so no oxygen gets in, so cells die). And people around me failed me in this very profound way.

And I still don't think it's a good idea to raise a kid expecting failure, or disaster at every turn. You have to be aware. But you don't have to be nuts.

So I still have to get up that mountain again. Now I appreciate that really it's not 7 months to do it (err - less - eek); it's more like years, and one can be in progress with it. But I still do feel like I have to at least, start. And when I think about it - perhaps, say, telling more people that I'm pregnant, or going to a church to start to see if I do think there might be something spiritual somewhere, or reading a baby book (not a pregnancy book, a baby book), I just feel like if I ease up I'll put myself way too much at risk. Can't do it again, nope.

Talking to this nurse on the phone I found I just don't believe her. I mean I believe all the bad things. But that there could be a baby at the end of it? Nope.

The fact is of course, that I am doing it again.

But I'm not quite sure how to keep doing it.

More

I should note, too, that she talked a lot about testing. I finally asked why, whether this is their focus or if there was a concern. She said there is some concern because the pregnancies are so close together, particularly for spinal bifida type problems. Not quite sure how I feel about that, but it does make me very glad I've choked down that prenatal every day.

phone calls

Talked with the nurse on the phone for my intake interview. None of my information had been passed on to her (I was warned that she would start from ground zero but I thought maybe my reason for going to that especial clinic might be on there). So it went like this:

Standard medical history blah blah blah
"Is this your first pregnancy?"
*pause* "No - we had a daughter in March, but there was a cord accident at birth and she died 4 days later" (my approach is to not pansy around it)
"March of 2004?"
"Yup"
"How long was your labour?"
"Well, let's see. It took 3 hours to dilate to 7 cm, which is where I was at when I got to the hospital, and then 6 hours to wait for the doctor to prick the amniotic sac, and then 3 hours of pushing... so I guess 12 hours."
"3... hours... of pushing?"
"Yes"
"Did you deliver vaginally?"
"Oh yes."
"What was the problem with the cord?"
"It was around her neck. Twice."
"It said 2X?"
"Yes."
*pause*
"Were you wearing a monitor?"
"Yes"
*pause*
"did it show any decels?"
"Yes. I started pushing after 3, and at 4:45 there were decels, and I delivered at 6."
"At 5?"
"No, at 6. I did ask for a c-section at about 5 though. But the nurse said to keep going, so we did."
*pause*
me: "I have the chart. I can bring it in if you'd like to see it."
"Yes... I think that would be a good idea."
*pause*
"You know, if you would like to request a c-section, there's no problem with that. But it's up to you. Obviously we know you can deliver vaginally."

I'm not sure why everyone in the medical world except the people at East General seem to connect the fucking dots right away.

I have appointments up the wazoo now, & will be meeting Dr. Seaward on the 22nd. This fucks around a lot with the Toronto/Ottawa thing but ask me if I care? Not a whit.

Also my diet (which I emailed in) is okay but she asked me to make some changes, mostly more milk. I like that, because it shows they're paying attention.

Shandra

Where's the beef?

I was craving beef last night, so I had a hamburger. It was a grand experiment since I also was feeling queasy, but sometimes those risks pay off.

Not just any hamburger but an organic beef burger from The Works which is one of Ottawa's most sinful awfully bad for you amazing places. It was big and beefy and you could get sour cream on it, in case the cholesterol count wasn't bad enough in the first place. Which I did do. And I assumed I would really regret eating it - but I didn't. Maybe a little fat and iron was what the doctor ordered. After all, all the major joints are set (says baby centre) and the swimming begins.

It's all lentil soup today to make up for it. Or equally healthy things. Except the third I couldn't eat does beckon from the fridge - although I know it won't be that great reheated.

Today it's rainy and grey, but if it stops raining I'll get a walk in.

So yesterday's food:
Breakfast - bagel & cream cheese
Snacks: plum, dried cranberries, half a banana
Lunch - Italian wedding soup, which disappointed in that there were no beans (read the label! It was just pasta shaped like beans!)
Dinner - the aforementioned burger

Shandra

Preparations

My intake interview is this week and that means going through the whole labour experience again verbally. That'll be Thursday, so I think I'll plan for some fun afterwards - something distracting, like a movie.

Yesterday Carl and I walked around the neighbourhood doing our chores - ski pants for him for this week's ski event, an adapter for our DVD, groceries. I was starting to think the fatigue was over until about 4 pm, at which point I pretty much crashed. We watched numerous episodes of The L word as consolation, though. It would have been nice to get to Winterlude, but I didn't really want to get in the middle of a crowd and then feel sick. So, we missed our first Ottawa winter carnival *sniff*.

I think it is slowly getting better though, which goes with the trimester. I really hope I have a decent second trimester (and can get to aquafit!). I am able to eat better. And yesterday I had:

2 slices of raisin-bran toast
Pancakes and bacon and some of Carl's potatoes for lunch
tofu "chicken" nuggets and some pickles for a snack
Lots of fruit all day - plum, grapes, apple
A pork chop and, yay, some veggies, for dinner
A scoop of passionfruit sorbet

Yummy.

Extrovert mummy

Last night I managed to stay awake until 11:30. This is a complete miracle. I think being out in public (so to speak) had something to do with it, and probably fresh air.

Fondue may also be the perfect way to eat while pregnant - small, small portions, over hours. Hmmm. May have to think about this some more. Although I still have my prejudices about it. I didn't eat any shrimp, and not too much of the beef (although it was very fresh and very thinly sliced, so it cooked through really easily). And the fruit was wonderful; I dipped it in the chocolate sometimes, but mostly just ate the fruit itself. I love fruit. We had strawberries, melon, grapes, plums, and bananas.

JB & J were very considerate about proper temperatures and also provided cranberry juice to drink, so I felt pretty welcomed and that freed me up to just enjoy the time. I also wore my seabands like a good girl. :) They both know about Emily; JB was at the funeral, but they don't live in a world of fear and so they were all peppy about it, and I caught that for a brief period of time. And that was nice.

Next week is my intake interview with Mt. Sinai.

One foot in front of the other

It was gorgeous weather yesterday - not as gorgeous as today though! - so I did a fair amount of walking around, hopping from writing location to writing location in the afternoon. It was great to get fresh air, but I made the mistake of not packing along crackers or anything and didn't really think about the time until 4:30. So I didn't eat for about 5 hours straight.

Paid for it last night too. Funny how the advice to eat frequently seems too basic to make any difference, but as soon as food hit (chicken with spinach and onions, one of my favourites but perhaps not the mildest choice) my stomach my stomach said: what! is! this!

It also tired me out. In a good way, but it makes me feel like such a lump, or an invalid. It reminds me a lot of this time of year most of my childhood - I had pneumonia nearly every Christmas and January and February were always low-energy, recuperating times, of skipping gym class on a doctor's note and turning down invitations to skating parties in case I got wet and cold.

I had nightmares about c-sections; probably because I got a book about them. I'm trying to chill out on that decision, but it is tough. The book says that there's very little increased risk (and in fact some decreased risk) to the baby for the first c-section; to the mother it's the usual infection/incision issues and some risk of pelvic floor damage (i.e. incontinence, which is also a potential side effect for labout).

The risks are all in later pregnancies really; the chances of stillbirth about double, the chances of all kinds of placental problems go up fairly dramatically, all probably due to the scar tissue. And most recommendations seem to be that if you have a c-section, one more pregnancy is not a huge big deal (although the chances of deliverally vaginally are lower) but any more really are. Because you've turned a muscle into scar tissue, basically.

I don't know how I feel about later pregnancies. I'm 34, so it's not like there are going to be a slew of them. On the other hand I think - and this is dreadful; I just know I'm going to have to destroy this blog before any child of mine that might make it learns to read - I have sort of come to a little is that if we're going to have any number of children, we might prefer that the number be greater than one. In meeting bereaved parents we have seen that kids die at all kinds of ages and it's always devastating, but the perhaps most awful devastation is when one's only child dies at 17 and it's too late to have any more (although fostering and adoption are of course always possibilities) and suddenly there is no generation there where there was.

Also, when one of us dies, I think we are appreciating that having siblings around for mutual support to each other might be nice.

On the other hand, all your kids can grow up to hate you, so you don't ever get to see them on holidays either. Or you can be like Carl's cousin's wife: there were 6 kids in the family and all 8 of them were on a holiday and had a car accident, and only the father and the one daughter (now the wife) survived. I mean there are no guarantees.

Still, it's something I want to go slowly with. Back when we couldn't conceive or carry past about 3 weeks (I really do wonder at this point what changed) having no kids of our own didn't seem like such a big deal. And with Emily I admit most of my thinking was that one kid might be a very nice number and that at the very least, having one and just seeing how that was would be a good start. But now I feel all these ramifications around death.

On the other hand, again, I just have no idea how we could possibly go through another labour. The more I have read the more angry I am that I pushed for almost 3 hours with contractions less than 30 seconds apart for the last hour and a half. And that for the last hour it was killing Emily. And although I really, really want to be able to find my way through the minefield without just giving up, I am not sure how we could do that again.

The dark humour side of me says I should just go out to Carl's other cousin's wedding in Kelowna BC in August; certainly I'd just go into labour on the plane or on some mountain top and then I wouldn't have to worry about any decision making. (Of course having seen the necessity of all that Equipment I would never do that, but the image is tempting, no?)

I found this very optimistic quote in The Glimpses of the Moon:

However inadequate Grace Fulmer's bringing-up of her increasing tribe had
been, they had heard in her company nothing trivial or dully: good music,
good books and good talk had been their daily food, and if at times they
stamped and roared and crashed about like children unblessed by such
privileges, at others they shone with the light of poetry and spoke with
the voice of wisdom.

Wouldn't that be nice? :)

So, food - gosh it's a bit of a blur. Toasted whole wheat buns with tomatoes and cheese for breakfast; bananas and grapes for snacks, and the rest probably came up. Gingerale. This morning was an inner-kid-fest with Boca "Chik'in" nuggets (go soy protein) and a lovely deep purple plum.

I am concerned with this fondue party tonight; if it's the cooking kind I'm not sure whether that's bacteriologically all that safe for the baby (I admit that when pregnant, I am a little picky about these things. I was with Em too.). But if I stick to veggies I'll feel sick. Probably the best thing to do is have a little something before we go and then be pretty choosy about what I eat.

Well that's my 30 minutes of pregnancy obsession that I allow myself for the day over so I'll stop it there.

Shandra

I think my body is starting to adjust to being pregnant, or perhaps it's just that we've adjusted to not rocking the boat. Last night I was very tired, for good reason, but I didn't have to put Seabands on. Of course that leads to thoughts that perhaps the sprout died. Can't quite seem to be happy either way.

Now I have to get more soothing veggie goodness in. Like butternut squash soup, which is mild and has no bits that make you gag. All my senses are a little hyperactive, especially on the texture front.

The night before last I was up at 3 am and I felt what I thought was anxiety. My brain kicked into gear with everything there is to be anxious about, and I couldn't get back to sleep. Around 5 Carl's pager went off and he had to get up, so I gave up and got up too. Half an hour after eating, I fell soundly asleep on the couch until 8 am. (Ah the joys of working from home - you can occasionally pull shit like that. I even managed to get a 20 minute walk in before starting.)

I think it was just my body complaining about protein (I had eaten plain pasta for dinner). The kind of restlessness that in the past might lead one to go gather nuts, or something. Us modern day folk can be real stupid. Of course my body can be stupid too because I am not lacking in fat stores. And my belly has expanded further. It will take some care the week of the 14th not to get people at work all excited.

I really think something was off in the ultra sound dating, because I feel much more pregnant than 9 weeks (today). This seems to be more like the 11 week point. But who knows? The ultrasound on the 16th should tell something. The 10th is my intake interview, over the phone.

I said I would take this pregnancy one day at a time, but I admit that it's starting to seem more real to me already and I have a little hope, and I'm worrying about parenting stuff already. I crammed my brain full of shit for Emily, so I have way too much available in there. I think what's stressing me out right now, besides the frailty of it all, is that it will be awfully hard not to be so overprotective as to be ridiculous. I already had issues with emotional safety, like how do you protect your child from being molested and still let them say, go to their friends' houses or stay with relatives from time to time. But now I worry about SIDS and flu and just - all kinds of physical stuff. I feel like I have 7 months to learn, although really there is more time than that. I mean wee babies can use a bit of overprotectiveness.

I imagine if this baby makes it it will take Carl and I a few weeks just to adjust to the idea that s/he might continue breathing. I think we may invest in the under-mattress breathing sensor that I thought was way over the top, last time. Assuming we get there. I feel like we have to add disclaimers to everything.

In a way I'm sorry our stuff is in storage, because it might be nice to finger a baby-sling or something like that right now. I'm still reluctant to go into stores the way I did before. But it was nice, then, to just have one concrete thing for the baby, like having provided something. I remember after hearing Emily's heartbeat we hit Value Village and bought one baby outfit, just because. Of course we haven't heard a heartbeat yet, just seen it.

I'm rambly today. :-)

Breakfast: one piece whole-wheat toast with cashew butter; about 2/3 of a cup of plain yoghurt mixed with blueberries and almonds.

Shandra

Body language

Yesterday I put a regularly-filled laundry basket on the floor. I didn't feel anything wrong, but my suspicion is that was the move that threw my back out, and I spent the rest of the day in considerable pain (no, you can't take muscle relaxants while pregnant as far as I know). This precipitated a downward spiralling argument between me and my body that resulted in me telling Carl we're adopting any future children and going to bed crying. It was partly back pain, partly looking lumpy, partly nausea, the fact that no bras fit me, and a whole lot of hormones and stress, I think.

It didn't help that I had to work, so I was typing, and then getting up and stretching with much swearing, every 15 minutes, all day.

But still; I've had more problems this pregnancy already than I did for Emily's entire one and we're only at 8 weeks. When I was 8 weeks pregnant with Emily I barely noticed! How am I going to get through this? (Well this much is simple: short of abortion, which I would not do, there's really no choice.)

The good news though is that the fatigue seems to be lifting slowly, provided I have at least one 20 minute walk each day, and that's not a bad thing (unless your back is killing you). I'm also able to tolerate more food, although I guess the broccoli-carrot-raisin salad sort of strained my stomach yesterday. The fruit cravings are really kicking in strongly and I have to watch that I don't go completely overboard. And I was able to keep some milk down, after training on yoghurt for a few days.

Also nastyman didn't smoke last night, so I have hopes he was staying here for one month only and is gone. We'll see.

So let's see.

Yesterday breakfast: whole wheat waffles with strawberries
Lunch: whole wheat bagel with cream cheese and cucumber
Snacks: tropical fruit in juice from Dole, apple, salsa with corn chips (bad!)
Dinner: the afore-mentioned broccoli salad, and then I couldn't eat much after that.

The day before I craved growing-up comfort food so we had:
Lunch: whole wheat bagel with cream cheese and a yoghurt
Snacks: Hmmm. Can't remember, if there were any beyond saltines
Dinner: Sloppy joes on whole-wheat buns and broccoli-carrot-raisin salad (which went down fine then!)

The broccoli salad btw is a pre-shredded coleslaw mix that cleverly uses the broccoli stalks and is super easy (just add dressing, although we add extra carrots and raisins and sometimes almonds or pine nuts), and good for you and mnn crunchy good. I think it has a bit of red cabbage in it as well.