Sunday, January 28, 2007

Random notes

Just a few notes on various things:

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For the first time today, I caved and asked my husband to apply lotion to my feet after I took a shower. I just cannot reach those oversized tugboats anymore. Or rather, I can, but only by seriously squishing my middle, and that hurts. And my feet desperately need lotion nowadays, since they have decided to swell up like puffball mushrooms after rain. They are ENORMOUS. And that stretching of the skin doesn't feel very good. (Hm, ya think?)

I did check out the swelling and slight purple-ness with my doc at our last interview, and she cheerily informed me that not only is it normal to have gigantically swollen feet when one is carrying mults, but also that I can expect my calves to swell, too. (Why don't I hate my OB? She tells me the most appalling things in the sweetest, most reasonable way. I really ought to deck her. The problem is, though, that she listens to my multitude of anxious questions and never, ever becomes impatient with me, unlike most male docs I've encountered. I guess I have to keep her.)

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We got a recliner today! I have been thinking about this for a while, but was deterred by the price tag and the fact that I've never lived with a recliner and didn't know if I'd like it or not. Then someone suggested Craig's List ... and that did it. I found a nice brown leather one, a trifle antiquated but in good shape, being put up for sale by a birth educator (hah! how ironic) who needed more space in her living room for her classes.

To make space for the recliner in our tiny living room, we had to banish a wingback chair that is part of a set with our couch. Mind you, I like wingback chairs, but this was a particularly starchy one with a ramrod straight back, and no one but our cats had ever been able to sit in it comfortably. I felt a little bad about evicting the cats from one of their favorite perches -- but it turns out I needn't have worried.

I inaugurated the recliner tonight, as D and I watched episodes of HBO's "Rome" (courtesy Netflix), and found it very reasonably comfortable. Or at least, it beat out the couch (which inspires Braxton Hicks every time). I was still sore afterward, but we watched two whole hours without it absolutely killing me. I hadn't been in the recliner five minutes before almost every cat we owned demonstrated an interest in being in it with me. Finally, our gorgeous mahogany Manx Boomer, who is our shyest cat, actually jumped up on my lap! This achieves significance when I inform you that he never does that. He is what we call a "beside cat" -- one who will cuddle up beside you but never on you. This chair obviously has good vibes. A success all around!

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And on a far less cheery note, my SIL who is also 44 and also pregnant via IVF (just 1.5 weeks behind me) has been slammed into the hospital on bed rest because of her placenta previa. Frankly, I'm worried. She lost a previous baby at 21w, and it was a heartbreaking thing for her. And not only heartbreaking, but very difficult for her, um, mentally, if I can be a little blunt. I just pray that nothing happens again. Her baby ought to be viable at 28w if it comes to that, but it is still iffy. Please think good thoughts for her.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

29 week update

This will be brief since I spent 2.5 hrs last night, from 3 to about 5:30, counting Braxton Hicks and wondering if I needed to call Labor & Delivery or not. I never did exceed the magic number of 4 per hour, but let me tell you, when you get three of those in a row, ten minutes apart, it gets your attention. But I wanted to update this for those few (and well-appreciated!) of you who appear to actually check this blog.

In a nutshell, I'm just a mess these days. I am in constant discomfort -- the only question being what degree, not whether or not. I am GI-NORMOUS (as both my husband and total strangers love to tell me lately). The bad part, though, is the Braxton Hicks contractions, which make me feel like my belly is turning inside-out and also scare the heck out of me when I gete too many. Luckily my cervix is holding up well, but from the number and frequency of the BH I get, you would think I was at 40w instead of 29w. This makes me chuckle sardonically when my OB schedules my C-section at 38 weeks (March 26), but okay, whatever makes her happy. I have a feeling, though, that I won't make it past 36. These guys are getting big.

Just how big was illustrated yesterday, when we went up to my HMO for an indepth ultrasound. (I say "we" because poor D. had to chauffeur me there, as he does most of the time now. Once there, he had to go in and get a wheelchair and then wheel me in like a too-heavy load of laundry. I just cannot manage that big parking lot and THEN the long walk down the hospital hallway to Radiology anymore.) We had a lovely, chatty u/s tech (we'll call her Aurelia) who seemed to know what she was doing (always a plus). She confided that she herself was 25w with her sixth kid! (I had wondered at the bulge but with someone who's a bit overweight, it's better to wait for the information to be volunteered.) Aurelia gave us the guided tour, much like Oscar, and showed us one baby's little foot, from the bottom, like a footprint (aww! SO cute!) and both their little "wee wees," as she put it. Oh, yes, their faces too. Comparing them in profile, you can see differences in the noses ... it will be interesting to see how much they look alike, or don't.

And the boyos have been growing apace! They are both in the 57th percentile for growth for singletons, with estimated weights of 3 lbs 3 oz. and 3 lbs 2 oz. But the tech commented yesterday that "there's still room in there," so hopefully we will get them up to 5 lbs each ... and then, ya know, I'm good with all this being over. I really am. 'Cause if ONE more person tells me "You're glowing!" (and yes, they really say that -- apparently all my friends got together and came up with the single most irritating phrase possible) -- that person is gonna get SAT ON by a huge and irate pregnant lady!

And ya know that's gotta hurt.

Saturday, January 06, 2007


Well, the Braxton-Hicks relaxed their grip on me long enough for me to make my appointment with my OB yesterday. While there, I found out the following:

1) I had lost a few pounds. (How many exactly, I'm not sure. I'm guessing 2 or 3.)
2) My BP is fine -- 122 over something-or-other. So at least I don't appear to be heading toward preeclampsia. (I know; fingers crossed.)
3) I have a lovely little yeast infection. These are uncommon with me, but what the heck, I might as well be thoroughly uncomfortable, right?

Dr. S and I also had a chat about the Braxton-Hicks. I found out that some of my so-called contractions might actually be baby movements, and some of them might be my fibroids "popping up" from the uterus. (I know; I had no idea they ever did that. Reminds me of Nessie's head peeking up from Loch Ness or something. Creepy.)

The thing is, though, I think I have some weird synthesis of all of the above. One typical contraction might start with a little walnut-sized lump suddenly appearing to the left of my bellybutton (that's the fibroid). Then something hard surfaces under that and kind of pushes (and that's the baby) ... and then my uterus decides it has been outraged enough by these shenanigans and I get the "official" BH, with characteristic tightening/hardening all the way across the top of my uterus.

Does this sound like fun? Because if it does, I'm not telling it right.

Just to add joy to this, D. read an article in the new Twins magazine about Dr. Luke's book on nutrition for multiples. After reading the article and then hearing me mention I had lost a couple of pounds, he had now decided his new mission in life is to hound me to eat enough. Thanks, honey.

An example: He brought me dinner in bed tonight because I was having BH again. He had HEAPED the plate with pre-cooked chicken strips (which he picked up at the grocery store today), green beans, and pasta. Turned out he had bought "cajun" chicken strips which were far too hot for me to just eat outright, so I would eat one strip and then take the burn out with a few green beans. I managed to eat about half what was on the plate -- not bad, I thought, for a woman with a tummy that is getting severely squished these days. But D. is wretched at estimating amounts of things (he can't eyeball a cup of something to save his life) and accused me of not eating anything at all. Well, duh ... I mean, I didn't take before and after photos or anything. Sorry, hon. The thing that really kills me about this, though, is that just a couple of days ago, when I was stuck in bed, he couldn't be bothered to come in from his project in the garage for the entire afternoon to see if I needed anything. And that was on a day when I was seriously stuck in bed.

I wouldn't trade D. for all the tea in China ... but at the moment, I could use a little vacation from him. Just a leetle one. Guess that's not going to happen when I can barely drive across town by myself now. Oh, well.

One bright spot: I absolutely could NOT get comfortable in bed last night, so I took a Tylenol. I finally fell asleep, and woke up, not two hours later -- which is what has been happening lately -- but with sunlight streaming through the window. First time in ages I've slept through the night, and I felt a lot better this morning. I think we'll have to repeat that experiment tonight!

Monday, January 01, 2007

Rough patch

Well, we hit a little rough patch in the road here .... We arrived home fine on Wednesday (although I did manage to leave my blood glucose meter behind at my SIL's house). I was very tired that day but went to bed and thought all was well.

The next night we went out to dinner, and then afterward D insisted that we go up to our HMO on the other side of town to pick up my new glucose meter. He meant well, but I was tired and didn't want to, and the whole thing degenerated into an argument. We did go to the HMO and pick it up, but then didn't get home until nine-ish. I started having more Braxton-Hicks contractions that night, which then got worse, and finally resulted in me spending a couple of days in bed getting them under control.

So Friday and Saturday were lost to lolling around in bed, and then on Sunday morning I felt better, so I dragged D over to BabyNews, the only "large" baby store in our area. Hah. Large like a hole in the wall. We did get to try out a Snap-n-Go double, but looking at their $600 cribs was kind of a joke. We can't spend $600 each on cribs and that's just the way it is. We really need to keep it around or under $200 (and if anyone has suggestions, I'm more than open to them!).

So that was semi-productive ... but later in the evening, D started having asthma problems (he's allergic to the same cats he loves). This was his first big asthma attack in about five years, but it was a doozy. Due to his freakin' stubbornness, I ended up finally calling an ambulance at 3 a.m., thank you very much. As you perhaps can tell from the calm way I've related this, he spent only a couple of hours at the hospital and is more or less fine now. However, now my BH contractions have started up again, so I am typing this during one of my brief sojourns away from bed.

OUCH. Just got another twinge. Time for bed again.