Showing posts with label yikes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label yikes. Show all posts
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Post Partum TRUTH
It's time for a little dose of the TRUTH. It has been roughly seven months since I popped out a creature the size of a small watermelon. I'm not exaggerating - she was about eight and a half pounds, and the last watermelon I bought was just over eight pounds.
That alone will destroy your body, let me tell you. I won't get into details because I think male members of my family read this and details will be awkward, not to mention details about that would be overshare in general even for me. But I will tell you this. You know how they say "it's what's on the inside that counts"? And you know how they say having kids changes everything? Well, you'll never be the same again. Ever. (Okay so it's only been seven months so that's not "forever" but I'm pretty sure this is permanent.) And no, exercises are not the cure.
But although that was the biggest shocker and most disturbing thing I have found so far, there's a lot of other stuff they mislead you about or leave out or gloss over. For example, before I became an incubator, I had the general self image that I looked better naked than with clothes on - unfortunate since I'm not a stripper or adult film star. Not that I had the body of a stripper or adult film star or anything like that. (Okay reign it in, Lauren.) But I had proportions that made clothes fit less-than-perfectly, which made me feel awkward, which made me sit and stand awkwardly, which then made my already less-than-perfect proportions even less perfect looking. The absence of clothes sort of helped, in my opinion, because there wasn't fabric pushing and pulling and squeezing and mushing in all the wrong areas. But now, clothing allows me to conceal that abhorrent sack of skin attached to the front of me that refuses to retract, despite the lack of enlarged uterus and growing creature that made the exponential multiplication of skin surface area necessary. Clothing also allows me to mask my enlarged buttocks beneath tent-like "A-line" dresses and "flowy and tunic-like" tops. Clothing allows me to prop up my deflated, flattened, and sad bosom.
Okay, you say, but everyone complains about that stuff. Yes, true. And they also tell you that a couple of months after you give birth or stop breastfeeding, or whenever (I stopped reading the WTE newsletter when it kept telling me that all my complaints were "normal" like that helps or something), you will begin to lose a lot of your hair. They tell you all sorts of scientific reasons and tell you that it may be alarming, and of course that it is normal. But then you start to literally see bald spots. And you find yourself sweeping up a wigful of hair twice a day (or if you're lazy like me you just notice a wigful of hair on the bathroom floor and try not to step on it with wet feet). You find that you are shedding more hair than your cat and you notice how very white your scalp is when it is bald. And if you're like me, and you had a lot of thick - too thick - hair your whole life, you start to panic even though you know it's "normal." You may read on websites that taking prenatal vitamins will help (it doesn't). You may find out that you should wash your hair with oatmeal (don't). You may ask your doctor and get a condescending smile. And just when you're starting to give Rogaine serious consideration...nope it's still falling out. (You thought I was going to say don't worry, it gets better.) But then you see little baby hairs coming in. And in a moment of irony you think, aw cute I'm growing hair just like [insert your baby's name here]. So even though your hair is falling out at an alarming rate, you can see that the condescending smile from the doctor was warranted (still annoying though). And you have a new hair style that accommodates patches of short hair spiking out randomly.
One more ugly truth - you may notice that your skin is less elastic and just generally looks older. Although, if you're a younger mom than me you might be able to confirm my suspicion that this skin issue is not related to pregnancy and is actually related to the fact that I'm pushing 30 (and contrary to popular perception I did have bouts of sun-binging in my past life so there is probably some sun damage factoring in here). The unfair part about it though, regardless of whether that's a post-partum thing or an age thing, is that your hormones are still in flux (I just learned today they will be in flux for 2-3 years from the birth of your child - hooray for partners who have to weather that long-ass storm). Therefore you are prone to breakouts. But the most jacked up part of all of that is that you won't just have breakouts on your T-zone like in high school. Not even just your T-zone plus backne. If you're like me, you'll get pimples on your legs or earlobes - I even had one on my forearm. Gross.
But you know that silly thing they say about your baby being worth it all? It's totally true. If your kid is as cool as mine (doubtful, but hopefully for you he or she will be a close second), you'll look at him or her and totally forget the insanely itchy skin during your pregnancy or the debilitating acid reflux (that you may still suffer from occasionally). You will not remember the elephant cankles you had, or the inability to stand more than ten minutes for fear of your hips collapsing. And by the time your baby is seven months of age, you may struggle to recall what a floppy newborn feels like in your arms. And beware because this is nature's trick! This amnesia is built into our minds and bodies the same way hunger and a fear of large toothy animals is. This amnesia is the only reason our species has survived. Because if the first cavewomen remembered how awful pregnancy was and how difficult the first few months of motherhood can be, they would not have had more than one child each. And then those first-borns would have been eaten by large toothy animals, and we would not be here. Instead, we forget all the awful stuff, we look at our child and think he or she is the greatest ever (too bad we all know mine is the greatest ever), and we think, "Wow, that wasn't so bad."
Monday, June 13, 2011
Shots!
Dear Isabella,
Last Tuesday you had your two month "birthday" and so on Thursday you had your two month old doctor's appointments. You grew a lot! You're eleven pounds, 12.5 ounces and 22.75 inches long! You're still in the 75th percentile for weight and between 50-75th percentile for height.
You also had your first shots that day. Poor little girl. You had two shots, one in each thigh. You were happily wiggling on the exam table and I made Daddy be the one to hold you down, and I just stood in the corner. You had no idea what was coming of course. The way you cried was so awful! Different than any other cry before - a shocked, scared, painful cry. But you're such a good girl - you stopped crying almost right after Daddy picked you up when the nurse was finished. And your cute little bottom lip stuck out. I bet that pouty face won't be so cute when you get to be two or three years old, but for now, it's precious!
Later that night you were so unhappy! You had a little bit of a fever and I think your legs were sore where you got the shots, so every time you moved your legs it made it worse. But of course you didn't understand that and you don't have that much control over your muscles still anyway, so it was so awful for you. I took you to Grandma's house so I would have some help, because Daddy had to go to work. We gave you baby Tylenol and I wrapped you in your swaddle super tight to try and keep your legs from moving too much. After a bottle and some rocking, you finally fell asleep. By the time you woke up for your middle of the night bottle, you seemed to be doing a lot better, and by morning you were back to your cheerful self. But, boy, hearing your terrified painful cries was awful!
You're getting bigger and stronger every day! Which makes it harder when you're wiggling and playing when you're supposed to be having your bottle. But when you're playing it's fun. We got you some new toys that should be good for you to practice grabbing stuff, and a stuffed rattling bug that hangs from your carseat handle. It's soft so it's not dangerous if it comes loose in an accident. You love it! Yesterday in the morning I put you in your carseat while I made your bottles for the day, and you were smiling at it, and talking to it, and staring at it for almost an hour!
Each day with you is a new adventure. I love you!
Love,
Mommy
Last Tuesday you had your two month "birthday" and so on Thursday you had your two month old doctor's appointments. You grew a lot! You're eleven pounds, 12.5 ounces and 22.75 inches long! You're still in the 75th percentile for weight and between 50-75th percentile for height.
You also had your first shots that day. Poor little girl. You had two shots, one in each thigh. You were happily wiggling on the exam table and I made Daddy be the one to hold you down, and I just stood in the corner. You had no idea what was coming of course. The way you cried was so awful! Different than any other cry before - a shocked, scared, painful cry. But you're such a good girl - you stopped crying almost right after Daddy picked you up when the nurse was finished. And your cute little bottom lip stuck out. I bet that pouty face won't be so cute when you get to be two or three years old, but for now, it's precious!
Later that night you were so unhappy! You had a little bit of a fever and I think your legs were sore where you got the shots, so every time you moved your legs it made it worse. But of course you didn't understand that and you don't have that much control over your muscles still anyway, so it was so awful for you. I took you to Grandma's house so I would have some help, because Daddy had to go to work. We gave you baby Tylenol and I wrapped you in your swaddle super tight to try and keep your legs from moving too much. After a bottle and some rocking, you finally fell asleep. By the time you woke up for your middle of the night bottle, you seemed to be doing a lot better, and by morning you were back to your cheerful self. But, boy, hearing your terrified painful cries was awful!
You're getting bigger and stronger every day! Which makes it harder when you're wiggling and playing when you're supposed to be having your bottle. But when you're playing it's fun. We got you some new toys that should be good for you to practice grabbing stuff, and a stuffed rattling bug that hangs from your carseat handle. It's soft so it's not dangerous if it comes loose in an accident. You love it! Yesterday in the morning I put you in your carseat while I made your bottles for the day, and you were smiling at it, and talking to it, and staring at it for almost an hour!
Each day with you is a new adventure. I love you!
Love,
Mommy
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Two Weeks Old!
Dear Isabella,
You're two weeks old today! We are learning more and more about how to take care of you as best as possible and make you happy as much as possible every day. Having a newborn sure is like being a detective. Or a lab scientist. Hypothesize, experiment, evaluate... It's been another roller coaster week, my little Bean, let me tell you. Just when we think we have something figured out, you change your mind or something else comes up.
You had your two week check up a couple days early because of Daddy's work schedule, on Tuesday, and the doctor said even though you have so much trouble staying asleep, you are doing perfectly. You weighed 8 pounds 6 ounces, just half an ounce less than your birth weight, which is great. In fact your weight, length, and head measurements are all at exactly the 50th percentile mark. You, my dear, are literally exactly "normal."
We discovered you really like co-sleeping - but don't tell any of the doctors, they say it's too dangerous. Grandma also discovered you like the mobile in your crib, and the vibration in your swings and bouncer and playpen. You also get really interested in music.
You make funny faces when you're making a diaper - usually you get really still and make a tiny "O" with your mouth and your eyes get a little wide and round.
You are already very opinionated! When you don't want something we offer (like your pacifier) you make the most sour, irritated face. And once you decide you do want something (like your pacifier) you want it NOW! You seem to have a bit of a temper also - once you decide you're hungry or want to be carried (so, always) you get angry so fast. Crying and squirming and so red!
Mommy wasn't doing so good this week, angel. On Sunday I was on the phone with your Grandma, and suddenly became very cold. I was shivering and had goosebumps and I could tell my skin was cold because you didn't like it when I touched you. I asked Grandma, "Isn't it supposed to be Kona winds or really hot or something?" she said yes, the weather hadn't changed. I didn't really pay much attention, just turned off the fan. When you got too hot we moved into our bedroom, turned on the AC and I hid under the covers. But all day Monday I was hot and cold and had sweats and chills. I called the doctor and she said to call Tuesday if I was still feverish and to just watch the fever to make sure it didn't rise. Well, Monday night it started rising really fast. I had you by myself and the body aches and weakness was starting to scare me. When my fever got to be 103.5 I asked your Daddy to come home from work so we could go to the hospital, and your Grandma came all the way from Kaneohe to babysit you at 10pm. In the ER, they took me right away, and when they took my temperature it was 104.2! Your body can start to cook itself after 104 degrees or you could go into shock! They gave me Tylenol and IV fluids, and took a LOT of blood for blood tests. After a couple hours they still didn't know what it was - they didn't even know if it was a virus or bacterial infection. They did say it wasn't the flu, and we were glad - we were so worried if I had given YOU the flu. My fever came down a little and they told us to follow up with our doctor the next day. Finally on Tuesday, the doctor diagnosed me with mastitis - with also a possible uterine infection! Double whammy! They prescribed antibiotics and to follow up again today. Turns out the infection actually got worse instead of better, and now I'm on TWO different antibiotics - and one of them isn't safe for breast milk.
This whole week the amount I've been able to pump for you has gotten less and less, and now it looks like we have to supplement with formula. Before this started I was pumping enough to have extra to store for later but now I'm hardly making any, and on top of that with the medicine I have to dump it anyway. We're still not sure your tummy can handle the formula we have. If not we'll have to go through several days of experimenting with different formulas, and that means your tummy might hurt more than usual.
Isabella, honey, I'm so, so sorry. I feel like this is my fault, and I've already failed you somehow. Mastitis usually starts with a blocked milk duct, which usually happens if you stop or reduce pumping or nursing too abruptly. This past weekend I started skipping pumping sessions instead of pumping EVERY time you eat, so I could sleep more. Then my duct got blocked and then infected, and for a couple days I could hardly take care of you - Daddy and Grandma did pretty much everything because I was so feverish and weak (Thank goodness we have them!). And now my milk is going away AND now I have to stop giving it to you anyway (temporarily, but it keeps getting less and less, even in the uninfected breast)! All because I got lazy and selfish about how inconvenient pumping is! I know there are lots of really healthy kids whose mommies never gave them breastmilk at all, or whose mommies also had to stop for a lot of other reasons, and they are just fine, and I know it doesn't mean I don't love you enough. But I also know breastmilk is the BEST thing for you and I feel like if I could help it I should give as much as possible. And I feel like I totally could have prevented this. I know it doesn't make sense to feel so guilty and sad about it but I do. I'm sorry, Baby Bean. I hope my milk comes back for you when I get rid of this infection.
You're growing so much every day, little girl. When I show you outside you look interested, and I keep promising you we can go explore more soon. Things keep coming up. Maybe in this next week I'll be able to bring you out and you can see what things look like outside of home and doctor's offices. I hope so.
I love you so much, and your Daddy and I still tell each other every day how lucky we both feel to have been blessed with you. Even on the toughest days, you hold my heart in your beautiful eyes.
Love always,
Your Mommy
You're two weeks old today! We are learning more and more about how to take care of you as best as possible and make you happy as much as possible every day. Having a newborn sure is like being a detective. Or a lab scientist. Hypothesize, experiment, evaluate... It's been another roller coaster week, my little Bean, let me tell you. Just when we think we have something figured out, you change your mind or something else comes up.
You had your two week check up a couple days early because of Daddy's work schedule, on Tuesday, and the doctor said even though you have so much trouble staying asleep, you are doing perfectly. You weighed 8 pounds 6 ounces, just half an ounce less than your birth weight, which is great. In fact your weight, length, and head measurements are all at exactly the 50th percentile mark. You, my dear, are literally exactly "normal."
We discovered you really like co-sleeping - but don't tell any of the doctors, they say it's too dangerous. Grandma also discovered you like the mobile in your crib, and the vibration in your swings and bouncer and playpen. You also get really interested in music.
You make funny faces when you're making a diaper - usually you get really still and make a tiny "O" with your mouth and your eyes get a little wide and round.
You are already very opinionated! When you don't want something we offer (like your pacifier) you make the most sour, irritated face. And once you decide you do want something (like your pacifier) you want it NOW! You seem to have a bit of a temper also - once you decide you're hungry or want to be carried (so, always) you get angry so fast. Crying and squirming and so red!
Mommy wasn't doing so good this week, angel. On Sunday I was on the phone with your Grandma, and suddenly became very cold. I was shivering and had goosebumps and I could tell my skin was cold because you didn't like it when I touched you. I asked Grandma, "Isn't it supposed to be Kona winds or really hot or something?" she said yes, the weather hadn't changed. I didn't really pay much attention, just turned off the fan. When you got too hot we moved into our bedroom, turned on the AC and I hid under the covers. But all day Monday I was hot and cold and had sweats and chills. I called the doctor and she said to call Tuesday if I was still feverish and to just watch the fever to make sure it didn't rise. Well, Monday night it started rising really fast. I had you by myself and the body aches and weakness was starting to scare me. When my fever got to be 103.5 I asked your Daddy to come home from work so we could go to the hospital, and your Grandma came all the way from Kaneohe to babysit you at 10pm. In the ER, they took me right away, and when they took my temperature it was 104.2! Your body can start to cook itself after 104 degrees or you could go into shock! They gave me Tylenol and IV fluids, and took a LOT of blood for blood tests. After a couple hours they still didn't know what it was - they didn't even know if it was a virus or bacterial infection. They did say it wasn't the flu, and we were glad - we were so worried if I had given YOU the flu. My fever came down a little and they told us to follow up with our doctor the next day. Finally on Tuesday, the doctor diagnosed me with mastitis - with also a possible uterine infection! Double whammy! They prescribed antibiotics and to follow up again today. Turns out the infection actually got worse instead of better, and now I'm on TWO different antibiotics - and one of them isn't safe for breast milk.
This whole week the amount I've been able to pump for you has gotten less and less, and now it looks like we have to supplement with formula. Before this started I was pumping enough to have extra to store for later but now I'm hardly making any, and on top of that with the medicine I have to dump it anyway. We're still not sure your tummy can handle the formula we have. If not we'll have to go through several days of experimenting with different formulas, and that means your tummy might hurt more than usual.
Isabella, honey, I'm so, so sorry. I feel like this is my fault, and I've already failed you somehow. Mastitis usually starts with a blocked milk duct, which usually happens if you stop or reduce pumping or nursing too abruptly. This past weekend I started skipping pumping sessions instead of pumping EVERY time you eat, so I could sleep more. Then my duct got blocked and then infected, and for a couple days I could hardly take care of you - Daddy and Grandma did pretty much everything because I was so feverish and weak (Thank goodness we have them!). And now my milk is going away AND now I have to stop giving it to you anyway (temporarily, but it keeps getting less and less, even in the uninfected breast)! All because I got lazy and selfish about how inconvenient pumping is! I know there are lots of really healthy kids whose mommies never gave them breastmilk at all, or whose mommies also had to stop for a lot of other reasons, and they are just fine, and I know it doesn't mean I don't love you enough. But I also know breastmilk is the BEST thing for you and I feel like if I could help it I should give as much as possible. And I feel like I totally could have prevented this. I know it doesn't make sense to feel so guilty and sad about it but I do. I'm sorry, Baby Bean. I hope my milk comes back for you when I get rid of this infection.
You're growing so much every day, little girl. When I show you outside you look interested, and I keep promising you we can go explore more soon. Things keep coming up. Maybe in this next week I'll be able to bring you out and you can see what things look like outside of home and doctor's offices. I hope so.
I love you so much, and your Daddy and I still tell each other every day how lucky we both feel to have been blessed with you. Even on the toughest days, you hold my heart in your beautiful eyes.
Love always,
Your Mommy
Sunday, April 10, 2011
What a journey!
Dear Isabella,
April 14th was your due date but you came into this world exactly one week early. And what a blessing you are.
Your final journey into the world was quite a struggle. It began on Tuesday, April 5th, actually. Tuesday was the last day off together alone that your Daddy and I would have and we didn't even know it. We had a check up appointment that morning and I was so uncomfortable with you growing in my belly that I joked with the doctor that we'd see her that night if I had any control over it. Little did we know...
After the appointment Daddy and I went to have lunch at Panda Express. I ate lots of vegetables! Then we went to the zoo to see the tigers. Oh boy, walking around the zoo was soooo hard! I had to walk so slow, and take lots of breaks. I felt like people stared at me like I was one of the exhibits. But the tigers were pretty cool! We got some really good pictures. I'll show you later. After the zoo we came home to rest a little, and then we went to Ruby Tuesday's for an early dinner - super early, because you were taking up so much room in my belly that I couldn't eat anything past 5pm! After Ruby Tuesday's, Daddy and I went to see Grandma and Grandpa Nick and pick up a few things that I had left at their house. Grandma took some photos of me and your Daddy and you in my belly because I had gotten so big! I'll show you those later too. I was having some contractions but nothing different than what I had been feeling all week. We sat around watching you move around in my belly - you were stretching out your legs and squirming around so much and making my belly into some pretty funny shapes!
Daddy and I came home and went to bed after watching a little T.V. It was a really nice day for us (I felt a little guilty that Orange was home alone all day and all night). Then at 12:28am (Daddy noticed the time and remembered it for the doctors just like we were taught - what a good Dad, huh?), my water broke in bed! At first I wasn't sure that's what it was - they had told us it could be a gush, or a trickle, but it was a little in between. I woke up your Daddy and told him what I thought and while I went to the bathroom to check, he started running around the house like a crazy person getting things together and getting ready to go to the hospital. He was so excited!
We got to the hospital and after they checked us out and made sure it really was the amniotic sac that had ruptured, we got into our labor and delivery room - Room 310. I wasn't really having regular contractions so they put me on a Pitocin drip to induce labor. They told us you had to be born within 48 hours to minimize the risk of infection.
When labor started, it wasn't too bad. But the contractions quickly became stronger and closer together, and I contemplated when I was going to have my epidural. The nurse told us that if we were for sure going to have one, I should be aware that at 7am is when they have all the scheduled C-sections, so the anesthesiologists would be busy between 7 and 8. At the time it was about 4:30am. I decided, why wait. They came in and put the drip in for the epidural, and suddenly the contractions didn't hurt anymore. In fact, Grandma, your Daddy, and I all took naps and I slept right through the contractions for a couple hours.
When I woke up I couldn't move my legs - definitely a weird sensation! The contractions were getting stronger, but manageable because of the epidural. The classes your Daddy and I took helped, because I knew how to breathe through the contractions and your Daddy was really helpful. I thought about our instructor, Therese, and imagined what she would suggest we try and tried to remember all the exercises we did in class. But the whole day passed and I was hardly dilating! At one point, your heart rate started to drop a little more than the doctors were comfortable with, and they had to stop the Pitocin - which stopped the dilating too! Oh man, this was taking forever! People kept calling and texting me and your Daddy to see what was going on. Abuela Balladyna was really worried and called Daddy a lot to check - it's hard for her to be so far away!
Then in the evening after they had stabilized your heart rate and restarted the Pitocin drip, the contractions started getting really, really strong! I felt like I didn't even have an epidural! The nurse would ask me on a scale of 1-10 how bad the pain was and I told her every time that it was a 10. I was dilating more but definitely not enough to push. Why didn't you want to come out??
I got to a point where I was in so much pain I was saying some pretty silly things. Like, "I can't do this, someone else has to do it for me!" and "I want to go home!" I was crying a lot. Poor Grandma and Daddy didn't know what to do to make me feel better. They just held my hands and whispered words of encouragement and that was exactly what I needed. Daddy even brushed my hair for me which felt good. What would we do without them?
Finally at about 10:30pm the doctor said that even though I wasn't dilated to 10cm (I was at 9.5), we could start pushing. I think they were worried about the stress on you because of my pain. The nurse and doctor warned me that for first time births, sometimes mommies have to push for 3 hours! But they said it probably wouldn't be that long for us.
Well, we started pushing just before 11pm on Wednesday night, and you weren't born till 1:46am on Thursday! Turns out we did push for about 3 hours!
There were some pretty scary moments during those three hours, my little girl. You had your head turned the wrong way, so you were getting stuck. My doctor had to turn your head with her hands, but she said you were so stubborn you kept turning your head back. Finally we got you turned the right way and got you to stay there. But you still didn't want to come out. They brought out the forceps and let me tell you - those things are SCARY looking. From where I was, they looked like a cross between the ice cream scoops they use at Cold Stone and giant (GIANT!) salad spoons. Daddy said he was so scared when they put those inside me to grab your head. He was scared they were going to hurt you. Every time I pushed, the doctors (they called a second one in to help, because you were taking so long to come out and it was getting a little risky) pulled and pulled with all their might. It took soooo long and so much strength from everyone in the room to get your head out. Two doctors pulling and digging around to maneuver you, Grandma and Daddy helping me push, and the nurse monitoring all our vital signs and getting things ready for when you finally came out.
Right before you came, the nurse asked the doctor if she should call the Pediatric Team. It's a team of doctors and nurses specially trained to take care of a baby right after delivery that might need some extra help. My doctor said yes right away. Grandma was scared - she and I have watched a silly amount of Discovery Health and read a lot of books on medical things and we both know it's not standard to call in that many people - in a matter of minutes, there were like 5 or 6 extra people standing there in surgical scrubs waiting to take care of you right away. Daddy was scared too, because even though he had confidence in the two doctors working on us, they were talking so quietly to each other, and the nurse had a really scared look on her face.
When you came out, you didn't cry right away and Daddy was scared. It was sort of strange - after everyone coaching me through the pushes and talking to get things ready, the room got so quiet for a couple of seconds. You were purple. But then your strong little lungs kicked in and you let out your first wail. Daddy got to cut your umbilical cord - he told me through my whole pregnancy that he didn't want to, but in the moment he was so overcome with love for you and he wanted to do everything that the experience offered. They took you away from me, and from across the room I watched them check you and make sure you were doing okay. I hated that I was so far away from you! Daddy went over with you and as soon as he started stroking your little belly you quieted down. In fact after the first couple of cries, you hardly cried at all.
Oh my goodness Isabella, you were so swollen. You weighed in at 8 pounds and 6.5 ounces and even though they thought you might need help when you first came out, you scored really high on your APGAR readings - those are scores they give when they evaluate important markers for your immediate health, like breathing, alertness, skin coloring. Finally they brought you to me and I couldn't say or think anything except I kept repeating, "Hi Baby. You're so beautiful." I was surprised at myself that I didn't cry right away but I think I was just so in awe of you, like I think I felt so much love and so much wonder that I couldn't express it in any way at all. I tried to get you to nurse because I'd heard how beneficial that is, but you were too tired. It was exhausting for everyone, especially you! Holding you to my chest that first time was one of the most wondrous moments of my life. I cried later, after they took you away to do more tests and stuff, and Daddy and I had a moment to congratulate each other.
I love your Daddy so much, and I am so grateful we have such an amazing man to take care of us. In a split second I thought about the true beginning of your journey into this world - from the days he would come into Starbucks and see me, to our first months together, to living in our first apartment, and all our friends, to last summer when we found out we were having you, to moving to our first "family" apartment where we live now, and the last couple of months. We've come a really long way in a super short amount of time and I wouldn't trade any of it for the world.
I didn't want to let you go but they had to take you from me again to take you to the nursery and get you all clean and warm and do some tests. While they were doing that, they took me and Daddy and Grandma to our recovery room. A much, much smaller room! When I was trying to get out of bed to go in the wheelchair to go to our room, I fell. My legs still didn't work! I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and all I had to do was stand up and turn around and sit down in the wheelchair. But as soon as I tried to stand up, even though my left leg could support me, my right leg was still completely paralyzed from the epidural and BOOM! Down I went. Daddy and Grandma rushed over to help the nurse pick me up. It certainly felt weird - it wasn't like I felt myself falling - it was like I had stepped into a hole in the floor.
When we got to the room and they got you cleaned up and tested, they brought you in to us. While we were in the hospital you stayed with us in the room most of the time. And that's how our next journey of getting to know each other began.
This path that we've found ourselves on, I'm so grateful for every step of the way, even the tough ones. You're perfect the way you are. In such a short time you've already brought such love and joy into our lives. I love you, Isabella, and I want you never to forget that
Love,
Mommy
April 14th was your due date but you came into this world exactly one week early. And what a blessing you are.
Your final journey into the world was quite a struggle. It began on Tuesday, April 5th, actually. Tuesday was the last day off together alone that your Daddy and I would have and we didn't even know it. We had a check up appointment that morning and I was so uncomfortable with you growing in my belly that I joked with the doctor that we'd see her that night if I had any control over it. Little did we know...
After the appointment Daddy and I went to have lunch at Panda Express. I ate lots of vegetables! Then we went to the zoo to see the tigers. Oh boy, walking around the zoo was soooo hard! I had to walk so slow, and take lots of breaks. I felt like people stared at me like I was one of the exhibits. But the tigers were pretty cool! We got some really good pictures. I'll show you later. After the zoo we came home to rest a little, and then we went to Ruby Tuesday's for an early dinner - super early, because you were taking up so much room in my belly that I couldn't eat anything past 5pm! After Ruby Tuesday's, Daddy and I went to see Grandma and Grandpa Nick and pick up a few things that I had left at their house. Grandma took some photos of me and your Daddy and you in my belly because I had gotten so big! I'll show you those later too. I was having some contractions but nothing different than what I had been feeling all week. We sat around watching you move around in my belly - you were stretching out your legs and squirming around so much and making my belly into some pretty funny shapes!
Daddy and I came home and went to bed after watching a little T.V. It was a really nice day for us (I felt a little guilty that Orange was home alone all day and all night). Then at 12:28am (Daddy noticed the time and remembered it for the doctors just like we were taught - what a good Dad, huh?), my water broke in bed! At first I wasn't sure that's what it was - they had told us it could be a gush, or a trickle, but it was a little in between. I woke up your Daddy and told him what I thought and while I went to the bathroom to check, he started running around the house like a crazy person getting things together and getting ready to go to the hospital. He was so excited!
We got to the hospital and after they checked us out and made sure it really was the amniotic sac that had ruptured, we got into our labor and delivery room - Room 310. I wasn't really having regular contractions so they put me on a Pitocin drip to induce labor. They told us you had to be born within 48 hours to minimize the risk of infection.
When labor started, it wasn't too bad. But the contractions quickly became stronger and closer together, and I contemplated when I was going to have my epidural. The nurse told us that if we were for sure going to have one, I should be aware that at 7am is when they have all the scheduled C-sections, so the anesthesiologists would be busy between 7 and 8. At the time it was about 4:30am. I decided, why wait. They came in and put the drip in for the epidural, and suddenly the contractions didn't hurt anymore. In fact, Grandma, your Daddy, and I all took naps and I slept right through the contractions for a couple hours.
When I woke up I couldn't move my legs - definitely a weird sensation! The contractions were getting stronger, but manageable because of the epidural. The classes your Daddy and I took helped, because I knew how to breathe through the contractions and your Daddy was really helpful. I thought about our instructor, Therese, and imagined what she would suggest we try and tried to remember all the exercises we did in class. But the whole day passed and I was hardly dilating! At one point, your heart rate started to drop a little more than the doctors were comfortable with, and they had to stop the Pitocin - which stopped the dilating too! Oh man, this was taking forever! People kept calling and texting me and your Daddy to see what was going on. Abuela Balladyna was really worried and called Daddy a lot to check - it's hard for her to be so far away!
Then in the evening after they had stabilized your heart rate and restarted the Pitocin drip, the contractions started getting really, really strong! I felt like I didn't even have an epidural! The nurse would ask me on a scale of 1-10 how bad the pain was and I told her every time that it was a 10. I was dilating more but definitely not enough to push. Why didn't you want to come out??
I got to a point where I was in so much pain I was saying some pretty silly things. Like, "I can't do this, someone else has to do it for me!" and "I want to go home!" I was crying a lot. Poor Grandma and Daddy didn't know what to do to make me feel better. They just held my hands and whispered words of encouragement and that was exactly what I needed. Daddy even brushed my hair for me which felt good. What would we do without them?
Finally at about 10:30pm the doctor said that even though I wasn't dilated to 10cm (I was at 9.5), we could start pushing. I think they were worried about the stress on you because of my pain. The nurse and doctor warned me that for first time births, sometimes mommies have to push for 3 hours! But they said it probably wouldn't be that long for us.
Well, we started pushing just before 11pm on Wednesday night, and you weren't born till 1:46am on Thursday! Turns out we did push for about 3 hours!
There were some pretty scary moments during those three hours, my little girl. You had your head turned the wrong way, so you were getting stuck. My doctor had to turn your head with her hands, but she said you were so stubborn you kept turning your head back. Finally we got you turned the right way and got you to stay there. But you still didn't want to come out. They brought out the forceps and let me tell you - those things are SCARY looking. From where I was, they looked like a cross between the ice cream scoops they use at Cold Stone and giant (GIANT!) salad spoons. Daddy said he was so scared when they put those inside me to grab your head. He was scared they were going to hurt you. Every time I pushed, the doctors (they called a second one in to help, because you were taking so long to come out and it was getting a little risky) pulled and pulled with all their might. It took soooo long and so much strength from everyone in the room to get your head out. Two doctors pulling and digging around to maneuver you, Grandma and Daddy helping me push, and the nurse monitoring all our vital signs and getting things ready for when you finally came out.
Right before you came, the nurse asked the doctor if she should call the Pediatric Team. It's a team of doctors and nurses specially trained to take care of a baby right after delivery that might need some extra help. My doctor said yes right away. Grandma was scared - she and I have watched a silly amount of Discovery Health and read a lot of books on medical things and we both know it's not standard to call in that many people - in a matter of minutes, there were like 5 or 6 extra people standing there in surgical scrubs waiting to take care of you right away. Daddy was scared too, because even though he had confidence in the two doctors working on us, they were talking so quietly to each other, and the nurse had a really scared look on her face.
When you came out, you didn't cry right away and Daddy was scared. It was sort of strange - after everyone coaching me through the pushes and talking to get things ready, the room got so quiet for a couple of seconds. You were purple. But then your strong little lungs kicked in and you let out your first wail. Daddy got to cut your umbilical cord - he told me through my whole pregnancy that he didn't want to, but in the moment he was so overcome with love for you and he wanted to do everything that the experience offered. They took you away from me, and from across the room I watched them check you and make sure you were doing okay. I hated that I was so far away from you! Daddy went over with you and as soon as he started stroking your little belly you quieted down. In fact after the first couple of cries, you hardly cried at all.
Oh my goodness Isabella, you were so swollen. You weighed in at 8 pounds and 6.5 ounces and even though they thought you might need help when you first came out, you scored really high on your APGAR readings - those are scores they give when they evaluate important markers for your immediate health, like breathing, alertness, skin coloring. Finally they brought you to me and I couldn't say or think anything except I kept repeating, "Hi Baby. You're so beautiful." I was surprised at myself that I didn't cry right away but I think I was just so in awe of you, like I think I felt so much love and so much wonder that I couldn't express it in any way at all. I tried to get you to nurse because I'd heard how beneficial that is, but you were too tired. It was exhausting for everyone, especially you! Holding you to my chest that first time was one of the most wondrous moments of my life. I cried later, after they took you away to do more tests and stuff, and Daddy and I had a moment to congratulate each other.
I love your Daddy so much, and I am so grateful we have such an amazing man to take care of us. In a split second I thought about the true beginning of your journey into this world - from the days he would come into Starbucks and see me, to our first months together, to living in our first apartment, and all our friends, to last summer when we found out we were having you, to moving to our first "family" apartment where we live now, and the last couple of months. We've come a really long way in a super short amount of time and I wouldn't trade any of it for the world.
I didn't want to let you go but they had to take you from me again to take you to the nursery and get you all clean and warm and do some tests. While they were doing that, they took me and Daddy and Grandma to our recovery room. A much, much smaller room! When I was trying to get out of bed to go in the wheelchair to go to our room, I fell. My legs still didn't work! I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and all I had to do was stand up and turn around and sit down in the wheelchair. But as soon as I tried to stand up, even though my left leg could support me, my right leg was still completely paralyzed from the epidural and BOOM! Down I went. Daddy and Grandma rushed over to help the nurse pick me up. It certainly felt weird - it wasn't like I felt myself falling - it was like I had stepped into a hole in the floor.
When we got to the room and they got you cleaned up and tested, they brought you in to us. While we were in the hospital you stayed with us in the room most of the time. And that's how our next journey of getting to know each other began.
This path that we've found ourselves on, I'm so grateful for every step of the way, even the tough ones. You're perfect the way you are. In such a short time you've already brought such love and joy into our lives. I love you, Isabella, and I want you never to forget that
Love,
Mommy
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Getting huge - and new symptoms...
I'm including pictures of myself and I have to admit - they're a little misleading. When I look in the mirror, I sort of feel like I'm much more enormous than these photos portray. Perhaps it's the black top I'm wearing. Either way, included are photos from Week 23. We have been taking photos of my growing middle almost every week since we found out we were pregnant but alas, until this week we were using my Sony Cybershot, whose memory card appears to have become corrupt. My middle isn't the only thing that's growing - thighs and butt are filling out (oh joy, as if they weren't full to begin with), my feet have gone up a whole shoe size (another "side effect" they don't tell you about until it's happening - and it apparently is most likely a permanent size increase - goodbye one million pairs of shoes I have!), and my bras don't fit anymore (the ONE good thing that's happening to my body image!). My doctor is zeroing in on whether my hands, feet and ankles are swelling - this is how he will know I'm O.D.ing on sugar - and so far I am still slender in these areas. Even if these are the only areas...
As Isabella grows, she pushes all my other organs sort of out of the way - to the sides (there goes my waist), down (there goes that bladder), up (here comes the stomach) - wherever they will smoosh. The fun part of this is the acid indigestion that results from not only her tendency to make room for herself, but also some stupid hormone that relaxes all my tendons, ligaments and muscles to make expansion possible. This hormone that apparently is smart enough to make pregnancy growth possible, has not found the intelligence in the millions of years of evolution to localize its "relaxation" effects. So as Isabella shoves my stomach up into my chest cavity to reside next to my heart (there has to be some clever thing I can say about the way to my heart is my stomach, but I can't figure it out right now), this dumb hormone makes sure that the valve connecting my esophagus to my stomach is pretty much defunct.
So all my stomach contents are free to roam back up, including that insanely corrosive stomach acid (I'm surprised they haven't invented a chemical or biological weapon using this as the main ingredient). I thought I had experienced debilitating heartburn the one night I woke up in the middle of the night and indulged in a slice of plain wheat bread - only to suffer the most excruciating pain that I had ever felt, for hours. I think pregnancy teaches you to take each bout of mind-boggling pain and think to yourself, "No, it could get ten times worse. You can't imagine it now, but you'll figure it out shortly." Because that heartburn session that lasted a few hours and disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared was nothing.
On a Wednesday night I ate dinner, well, at dinner time. A bajillion hours later, I went to bed (okay at like midnight), feeling full which was something I was becoming used to - feeling absurdly full hours longer than logically necessary until in a split second I was suddenly ravenous. Somewhere in the wee hours of the night I was woken up by - prepare to be grossed out - vomit coming up my throat of its own accord. No retching, no clenching of my stomach to push that half-digested substance up the wrong way. Just a slow oozing feeling, complimented by a sharp feeling that my throat was being burned from the inside out. I went to the bathroom and allowed this mass to complete its backwards journey. The rest of the night found me in and out of bed.
The following night, I had a meeting for work followed by a baby shower for a coworker. I got home about 11pm, and fell asleep almost right away. Oh no, sleep was not to be had. I was in and out of bed again just like the night before, awakened in the same manner, until 4am. After the fourth or fifth journey from the couch (I migrated to spare Alex the disturbance), I had to wonder - what is possibly even left in there? Water, it turns out, didn't help either. That was violently rejected as well.
On the Friday of this particular week, by 9pm I was feeling this familiar sensation of my insides having a life of their own. I knew that occassional vomiting is normal even past the first trimester, and that heartburn was something I was supposed to expect as Isabella claims more and more space in my insides, but this was getting a little ridiculous. After some internet searching, I found the excuse to call my doctor (I hate calling my doctor). "What do you think?" I asked him, at 10pm (he was clearly sleeping prior to this) after describing my experience to him. "I don't know," he replied. "Go to Kapiolani. You probably at least need fluids." I suppose expecting a diagnosis over the phone was a little bit of a stretch.
Alex was at work, so Mom and Nick took me to Kapiolani Medical Center. We arrived at 11pm. Nick went to sleep in the car - a wise idea since we weren't seen till 2:30am. Gosh, good thing it wasn't anything serious. When you're pregnant, they don't even deal with you in the E.R. at all - they send you straight up to labor and delivery, just in case. I think there were about four women who came in in labor, and went straight to delivery, while I was there. My friend Kat was there, had been there since Thursday in fact, and was in labor. I wondered where her room was.
When we were finally seen, they immediately hooked me up to monitors, and we got to listen to Isabella's heartbeat for a while, as well as listen to the sounds of her jumping around inside me. Boy was she active! Bumps and jumps and turns and twirls, all over the place! Clearly, she was unphased by my gastric activities. Finally they hooked me up to an I.V. at about 3am (it took them one very painful failed attempt, followed by a second very painful successful attempt - my veins were collapsing a little, indicating that indeed I was dehydrated) and administered one liter of fluid. It was the weirdest sensation I have ever felt. I could literally feel the water going into my body - room temperature water in an air conditioned hospital is considerably colder than body temperature, especially when your body is stressed. I got cold and shivery - but if you touched me, you would think I was warm. In fact, my body was still warm. But I felt cold. After much coaxing from my Mom, I accepted a warmed blanket and quit shivering. After the I.V. was finished (very quickly - less than an hour), I was instructed to drink another liter (I still hadn't peed, another indication that I was definitely dehydrated), and then given crackers to eat to see if I could keep them down.
After I got discharged at sunrise on Saturday morning, Mom and Nick took me and Alex home (Alex had come right after work), and I went to bed shortly after. I didn't throw up but I could definitely feel those crackers trying to worm their way up. What gives? I thought.
Luckily at my regular appointment the following Tuesday my doctor confirmed - it seems I have serious acid reflux. She pointed me in the direction of an over the counter remedy called Gaviscon, since Maalox had proven to be ineffective. So far the Gaviscon is pretty amazing (tastes awful), as long as I don't eat after 9pm or eat more than perhaps one and a half cups of food at a time.
My theory is that this is nature's way of making sure I don't get carried away "eating for two." What a rip off. :P
As Isabella grows, she pushes all my other organs sort of out of the way - to the sides (there goes my waist), down (there goes that bladder), up (here comes the stomach) - wherever they will smoosh. The fun part of this is the acid indigestion that results from not only her tendency to make room for herself, but also some stupid hormone that relaxes all my tendons, ligaments and muscles to make expansion possible. This hormone that apparently is smart enough to make pregnancy growth possible, has not found the intelligence in the millions of years of evolution to localize its "relaxation" effects. So as Isabella shoves my stomach up into my chest cavity to reside next to my heart (there has to be some clever thing I can say about the way to my heart is my stomach, but I can't figure it out right now), this dumb hormone makes sure that the valve connecting my esophagus to my stomach is pretty much defunct.
So all my stomach contents are free to roam back up, including that insanely corrosive stomach acid (I'm surprised they haven't invented a chemical or biological weapon using this as the main ingredient). I thought I had experienced debilitating heartburn the one night I woke up in the middle of the night and indulged in a slice of plain wheat bread - only to suffer the most excruciating pain that I had ever felt, for hours. I think pregnancy teaches you to take each bout of mind-boggling pain and think to yourself, "No, it could get ten times worse. You can't imagine it now, but you'll figure it out shortly." Because that heartburn session that lasted a few hours and disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared was nothing.
On a Wednesday night I ate dinner, well, at dinner time. A bajillion hours later, I went to bed (okay at like midnight), feeling full which was something I was becoming used to - feeling absurdly full hours longer than logically necessary until in a split second I was suddenly ravenous. Somewhere in the wee hours of the night I was woken up by - prepare to be grossed out - vomit coming up my throat of its own accord. No retching, no clenching of my stomach to push that half-digested substance up the wrong way. Just a slow oozing feeling, complimented by a sharp feeling that my throat was being burned from the inside out. I went to the bathroom and allowed this mass to complete its backwards journey. The rest of the night found me in and out of bed.
The following night, I had a meeting for work followed by a baby shower for a coworker. I got home about 11pm, and fell asleep almost right away. Oh no, sleep was not to be had. I was in and out of bed again just like the night before, awakened in the same manner, until 4am. After the fourth or fifth journey from the couch (I migrated to spare Alex the disturbance), I had to wonder - what is possibly even left in there? Water, it turns out, didn't help either. That was violently rejected as well.
On the Friday of this particular week, by 9pm I was feeling this familiar sensation of my insides having a life of their own. I knew that occassional vomiting is normal even past the first trimester, and that heartburn was something I was supposed to expect as Isabella claims more and more space in my insides, but this was getting a little ridiculous. After some internet searching, I found the excuse to call my doctor (I hate calling my doctor). "What do you think?" I asked him, at 10pm (he was clearly sleeping prior to this) after describing my experience to him. "I don't know," he replied. "Go to Kapiolani. You probably at least need fluids." I suppose expecting a diagnosis over the phone was a little bit of a stretch.
Alex was at work, so Mom and Nick took me to Kapiolani Medical Center. We arrived at 11pm. Nick went to sleep in the car - a wise idea since we weren't seen till 2:30am. Gosh, good thing it wasn't anything serious. When you're pregnant, they don't even deal with you in the E.R. at all - they send you straight up to labor and delivery, just in case. I think there were about four women who came in in labor, and went straight to delivery, while I was there. My friend Kat was there, had been there since Thursday in fact, and was in labor. I wondered where her room was.
When we were finally seen, they immediately hooked me up to monitors, and we got to listen to Isabella's heartbeat for a while, as well as listen to the sounds of her jumping around inside me. Boy was she active! Bumps and jumps and turns and twirls, all over the place! Clearly, she was unphased by my gastric activities. Finally they hooked me up to an I.V. at about 3am (it took them one very painful failed attempt, followed by a second very painful successful attempt - my veins were collapsing a little, indicating that indeed I was dehydrated) and administered one liter of fluid. It was the weirdest sensation I have ever felt. I could literally feel the water going into my body - room temperature water in an air conditioned hospital is considerably colder than body temperature, especially when your body is stressed. I got cold and shivery - but if you touched me, you would think I was warm. In fact, my body was still warm. But I felt cold. After much coaxing from my Mom, I accepted a warmed blanket and quit shivering. After the I.V. was finished (very quickly - less than an hour), I was instructed to drink another liter (I still hadn't peed, another indication that I was definitely dehydrated), and then given crackers to eat to see if I could keep them down.
After I got discharged at sunrise on Saturday morning, Mom and Nick took me and Alex home (Alex had come right after work), and I went to bed shortly after. I didn't throw up but I could definitely feel those crackers trying to worm their way up. What gives? I thought.
Luckily at my regular appointment the following Tuesday my doctor confirmed - it seems I have serious acid reflux. She pointed me in the direction of an over the counter remedy called Gaviscon, since Maalox had proven to be ineffective. So far the Gaviscon is pretty amazing (tastes awful), as long as I don't eat after 9pm or eat more than perhaps one and a half cups of food at a time.
My theory is that this is nature's way of making sure I don't get carried away "eating for two." What a rip off. :P
Friday, October 8, 2010
Update, genetic screening, and ultrasound
I went for genetic screening today. Unfortunately the appointment time got a little messed up and Alex wasn't able to come for this one. We were both pretty disappointed. My mom came instead and I'm so glad she was there!
Below is a video of pictures captured during the screening and a couple video clips. This was the first part of what they call sequential screening, where they take a bunch of measurements of the baby and also take a blood sample from me, to determine risk factors for certain genetic defects (Down's Syndrome, Trisomy 18, and open neural tube defects). Based on the measurements they took today everything looks good. We have another appointment on November 9th, where they'll draw another sample of blood from me (and have another look at Bean), and once the blood test results are back from both screenings we'll have a 93-95% accurate diagnosis of whether we're at risk for any of these three defects. We'll also get to find out the gender at that appointment! (Some of the pictures look like they might reveal something but they don't.)
Based on the measurements, as of today Bean is a little over three inches long from crown to rump. Bean sure was putting on a show today! Wiggling, swimming around, even "jumping" - pushing the legs out pretty forcefully! It was amazing to see in such detail the five fingers, leg bones, ribs, even the little developing brain. We heard the heartbeat again which was the most incredible part, and at 158 beats per minute, Bean's little heart is growing strong!
To be honest it was a relief to see and hear it for myself again. Since our last "emergency" appointment three and a half weeks ago where we just heard the heartbeat, and our last ultrasound way before that, and since Bean's too little for me to feel movement yet, I've been a bit anxious for "proof" that everything's still okay. They say you worry about your kids no matter how old they get - they don't tell you that worrying about them starts before they're even born!
It doesn't help that I had another (more severe) dizzy spell at work earlier this week. This time my hearing completely disappeared as the black spots started appearing in front of my eyes, and my coordination was even worse (I couldn't put a cap back on a highlighter, I was making typos all over the place as I struggled to finish a reservation, and when I finally left the kiosk I pretty much staggered to the bathroom like a drunk person). I sat on the cold bathroom floor again until the feeling went away, and was transferred to a less demanding, cooler position for the remainder of the day, but I still felt "off" for almost an entire day after that.
But regardless, Bean's doing great, and that's what matters! This is still so surreal...
Below is a video of pictures captured during the screening and a couple video clips. This was the first part of what they call sequential screening, where they take a bunch of measurements of the baby and also take a blood sample from me, to determine risk factors for certain genetic defects (Down's Syndrome, Trisomy 18, and open neural tube defects). Based on the measurements they took today everything looks good. We have another appointment on November 9th, where they'll draw another sample of blood from me (and have another look at Bean), and once the blood test results are back from both screenings we'll have a 93-95% accurate diagnosis of whether we're at risk for any of these three defects. We'll also get to find out the gender at that appointment! (Some of the pictures look like they might reveal something but they don't.)
Based on the measurements, as of today Bean is a little over three inches long from crown to rump. Bean sure was putting on a show today! Wiggling, swimming around, even "jumping" - pushing the legs out pretty forcefully! It was amazing to see in such detail the five fingers, leg bones, ribs, even the little developing brain. We heard the heartbeat again which was the most incredible part, and at 158 beats per minute, Bean's little heart is growing strong!
To be honest it was a relief to see and hear it for myself again. Since our last "emergency" appointment three and a half weeks ago where we just heard the heartbeat, and our last ultrasound way before that, and since Bean's too little for me to feel movement yet, I've been a bit anxious for "proof" that everything's still okay. They say you worry about your kids no matter how old they get - they don't tell you that worrying about them starts before they're even born!
It doesn't help that I had another (more severe) dizzy spell at work earlier this week. This time my hearing completely disappeared as the black spots started appearing in front of my eyes, and my coordination was even worse (I couldn't put a cap back on a highlighter, I was making typos all over the place as I struggled to finish a reservation, and when I finally left the kiosk I pretty much staggered to the bathroom like a drunk person). I sat on the cold bathroom floor again until the feeling went away, and was transferred to a less demanding, cooler position for the remainder of the day, but I still felt "off" for almost an entire day after that.
But regardless, Bean's doing great, and that's what matters! This is still so surreal...
Monday, September 20, 2010
Yikes!
So I guess you could say we had our first "scare" today. Yesterday I stayed home from work with minor cold symptoms and a very slight fever. Tylenol took care of the fever and TLC from Alex took care of the rest. No biggie. So I went back to work today, but twenty minutes into my shift something happened. I started to feel extremely overheated, sweaty, dizzy and weak. In the middle of dealing with a multitude of misbookings, customers checking in, an ancient reservation system, and customers interested in purchasing tickets, sounds and voices started to feel "far away," spots appeared in front of me, and I'm told my speech became slurred. I felt terrible about leaving Kamaile by herself but I also didn't want to pass out - especially not in front of guests. I staggered to the Ali'i Tower bathroom and relished the cold tile floor under me as I called Mom. (I realized soon after that I was in a public bathroom - a high end one, but still public - and sat on the chair instead.) "Tell me what to do," I told her. I've had dizzy spells before, and actually fainted and completely "knocked out" at least twice, so on the one hand, I knew what to do and what to expect. I knew in a little while it would go away. But on the other hand, everything I've ever read or heard says, if something weird happens in the first trimester, DON'T IGNORE IT. Mom agreed. The doctor's office wanted me to come in pretty much right away, which scared me a little. Hands shaking, I returned to the kiosk where Kamaile had dispersed the crowd, and I called my supervisors. They were totally understanding and my manager said, "Just go. Don't worry about your shift. Just go."
Mom wanted to pick me up from work but, stupidly, I was more worried about Mandy getting towed (Mandy is the car). Of course I called Alex too, and told him what was going on. Even though I told him not to leave work, that I would be fine and Mom was taking me to the doctor, he came right home. (What a great guy, right?!)
By the time we got to the doctor, I was feeling a lot better. I felt like such a drama queen. But Dr. Yamasato reassured us that we did the right thing, sent us for blood tests, and...we got to hear the heartbeat! She checked it to be sure Bean was doing fine and it was the most amazing thing we've ever heard! I wanted to just lie there and listen forever. I stared at Alex and felt so connected. I know I keep saying "it was the most amazing thing" but I guess that's part of being a new parent - everything, especially the "firsts," is more amazing than the thing before it.
God I just realized the word "parent" will soon apply to me. Somehow "Mom," and "Mommy" don't sound as daunting as "parent!" So official and responsible sounding. Yikes (the second one of the day)!
Mom wanted to pick me up from work but, stupidly, I was more worried about Mandy getting towed (Mandy is the car). Of course I called Alex too, and told him what was going on. Even though I told him not to leave work, that I would be fine and Mom was taking me to the doctor, he came right home. (What a great guy, right?!)
By the time we got to the doctor, I was feeling a lot better. I felt like such a drama queen. But Dr. Yamasato reassured us that we did the right thing, sent us for blood tests, and...we got to hear the heartbeat! She checked it to be sure Bean was doing fine and it was the most amazing thing we've ever heard! I wanted to just lie there and listen forever. I stared at Alex and felt so connected. I know I keep saying "it was the most amazing thing" but I guess that's part of being a new parent - everything, especially the "firsts," is more amazing than the thing before it.
God I just realized the word "parent" will soon apply to me. Somehow "Mom," and "Mommy" don't sound as daunting as "parent!" So official and responsible sounding. Yikes (the second one of the day)!
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