I have now entered the mythical land of the full-term pregnancy.
Of course, because it's me, there is a complication. I caught the girls' cold, and like all of my colds do, it headed straight for the lungs. It's ugly. Really ugly. Like, nebulized-albuterol ugly, and if I get any worse, it'll be ER-ugly. No such thing as "just a cold" for an asthmatic.
I hope the baby holds off for two more weeks, because right now, I'm too sick to take care of him.
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Saturday, September 06, 2008
Happy Birthday
Lyme disease/incipient colds/uterine irritability notwithstanding, we had the girls' birthday party yesterday evening.
I thought their first birthday would be the big meaningful birthday-to-remember, and I made a big production out of it last year, invited a bunch of people and cooked a bunch of food. There was the requisite amount of cake-smashing, but the girls were a bit overwhelmed by all the goings-on.
This year, I didn't have the energy to do much of anything. I ordered cakes from a local cake place, a Wubbzy cake for Claire, and a Birdie Bird cake for Katherine (characters from Wow Wow Wubbzy, which is TV crack for toddlers). I had my in-laws pick up a few pizzas, blew up a 99-cent package of balloons, and invited immediate family and two close friends with toddlers. I was pretty sure it was going to be small and quiet.
Know what? It was AWESOME. This year, the girls were old enough to understand the concept of presents, and to get really excited about the unwrapping. All of the kids had a fantastic time bouncing the balloons around the living room. Both girls were wide-eyed with excitement when we brought out the cakes and started singing Happy Birthday. They're also really into all of their new toys, and loved the train table G and I bought them. I get the giggles seeing Claire carrying around the large plastic T-Rex (which she insists is a "hossie"), and I could hire Katherine out if the toy vacuum cleaner and lawn mower worked.
I loved having little babies (and am so looking forward to another), and I used to be afraid that I wouldn't enjoy the toddler era as much. Let's face it, we all have ages and stages we prefer, and I've never been as keen on the toddlers as on babies and preschoolers. In all honesty, I do think 18 months was the hardest age for us -- most twin moms find it's the infant period, but my girls were really good babies, and we had a relatively easy time then. By 18 months, though, they had developed all the physical capacity needed to get into trouble, without the understanding to stay out of it. They were relatively slow talkers, and couldn't communicate wants and desires very well. They wouldn't hold hands reliably or sit still in chairs, so taking them out in public could be an ordeal. It was still neat to see them learn things, but there were a lot of frustrations too.
In the last three months, though, they have grown up so very much. I hate that I've spent so much of the time confined to bed and missing it, because I am purely loving this stage. They follow simple directions, and they love to "help" -- give them something to carry or put somewhere, and they're happy as clams. They're still not as talkative as some two-year-olds, but they have a lot of words and several phrases, plus incomprehensible sentences. They can ask for water or a cracker or a hug, and they identify each other as "ti-tuh" (Sister). (My favorite verbal idiosyncracy: "Katherine, what's your name?" "ME!") It's amazing what a difference basic communication makes.
Yes, there are challenges. Katherine in particular has very, very definite ideas about how the world ought to work, and she does NOT appreciate it when things don't go accordingly. Since the Katherine Plan includes things like collecting a large pile of toys in a box or arranging all of her peas just so, it is frequently ruined by her sister or her parents. Katherine comes by her OCD tendencies honestly, to be sure, so it's easy for me to draw on my own childhood to foresee years of "MOOOMMM! She got in my STUFF!". Claire is much less attached to the idea of personal property, and doesn't care so much about the world being orderly, but she wants very badly to know how everything works. She gets very frustrated when she can't make something work right, or when we drag her away before she's done investigating, or take something away precisely because she's gotten it to work. Of course, there are also the generic toddler meltdowns, and the days when naps don't happen, and the boundary-testing to see what happens if we hit the dog or throw our toy.
All in all, though, I am enjoying them now more than I ever have, and so is G. He loved them as tiny babies and was tremendously helpful with them, but it was clear he didn't have quite the same hunger for the smell of their little baby heads, wasn't as captivated by the way you could nestle one in each side of your neck. Understandably enough, he looked forward to the period where he could interact with them more, and that's where we're at. A few weeks ago, he told me that he's no longer waiting for them to grow up and do X, and that now he wishes they'd stay right where they are for a while! I couldn't help but laugh, because now he understands how I felt their entire first year, but I also agree with him. It's great to be the mother of two-year-olds.
I thought their first birthday would be the big meaningful birthday-to-remember, and I made a big production out of it last year, invited a bunch of people and cooked a bunch of food. There was the requisite amount of cake-smashing, but the girls were a bit overwhelmed by all the goings-on.
This year, I didn't have the energy to do much of anything. I ordered cakes from a local cake place, a Wubbzy cake for Claire, and a Birdie Bird cake for Katherine (characters from Wow Wow Wubbzy, which is TV crack for toddlers). I had my in-laws pick up a few pizzas, blew up a 99-cent package of balloons, and invited immediate family and two close friends with toddlers. I was pretty sure it was going to be small and quiet.
Know what? It was AWESOME. This year, the girls were old enough to understand the concept of presents, and to get really excited about the unwrapping. All of the kids had a fantastic time bouncing the balloons around the living room. Both girls were wide-eyed with excitement when we brought out the cakes and started singing Happy Birthday. They're also really into all of their new toys, and loved the train table G and I bought them. I get the giggles seeing Claire carrying around the large plastic T-Rex (which she insists is a "hossie"), and I could hire Katherine out if the toy vacuum cleaner and lawn mower worked.
I loved having little babies (and am so looking forward to another), and I used to be afraid that I wouldn't enjoy the toddler era as much. Let's face it, we all have ages and stages we prefer, and I've never been as keen on the toddlers as on babies and preschoolers. In all honesty, I do think 18 months was the hardest age for us -- most twin moms find it's the infant period, but my girls were really good babies, and we had a relatively easy time then. By 18 months, though, they had developed all the physical capacity needed to get into trouble, without the understanding to stay out of it. They were relatively slow talkers, and couldn't communicate wants and desires very well. They wouldn't hold hands reliably or sit still in chairs, so taking them out in public could be an ordeal. It was still neat to see them learn things, but there were a lot of frustrations too.
In the last three months, though, they have grown up so very much. I hate that I've spent so much of the time confined to bed and missing it, because I am purely loving this stage. They follow simple directions, and they love to "help" -- give them something to carry or put somewhere, and they're happy as clams. They're still not as talkative as some two-year-olds, but they have a lot of words and several phrases, plus incomprehensible sentences. They can ask for water or a cracker or a hug, and they identify each other as "ti-tuh" (Sister). (My favorite verbal idiosyncracy: "Katherine, what's your name?" "ME!") It's amazing what a difference basic communication makes.
Yes, there are challenges. Katherine in particular has very, very definite ideas about how the world ought to work, and she does NOT appreciate it when things don't go accordingly. Since the Katherine Plan includes things like collecting a large pile of toys in a box or arranging all of her peas just so, it is frequently ruined by her sister or her parents. Katherine comes by her OCD tendencies honestly, to be sure, so it's easy for me to draw on my own childhood to foresee years of "MOOOMMM! She got in my STUFF!". Claire is much less attached to the idea of personal property, and doesn't care so much about the world being orderly, but she wants very badly to know how everything works. She gets very frustrated when she can't make something work right, or when we drag her away before she's done investigating, or take something away precisely because she's gotten it to work. Of course, there are also the generic toddler meltdowns, and the days when naps don't happen, and the boundary-testing to see what happens if we hit the dog or throw our toy.
All in all, though, I am enjoying them now more than I ever have, and so is G. He loved them as tiny babies and was tremendously helpful with them, but it was clear he didn't have quite the same hunger for the smell of their little baby heads, wasn't as captivated by the way you could nestle one in each side of your neck. Understandably enough, he looked forward to the period where he could interact with them more, and that's where we're at. A few weeks ago, he told me that he's no longer waiting for them to grow up and do X, and that now he wishes they'd stay right where they are for a while! I couldn't help but laugh, because now he understands how I felt their entire first year, but I also agree with him. It's great to be the mother of two-year-olds.
Friday, September 05, 2008
Blymey
From the Department of OF-COURSE-It-Would-Happen-To-Me:
Two weeks ago, my sister asked if the girls could come visit her and my niece for the weekend. Since G's been doing solo weekend duty for all these weeks of bedrest, I packed them off without a second thought to her house. M lives in a very rural area about an hour and a half from here, and the directions to her house include "turn off the paved road".
A fantastic time was had by all, and we picked up two worn-out babies on Sunday. The next day, I noticed that Claire had two little bites on the back of her arm. I figured they were just mosquito bites -- both girls welt up badly in reaction to them, just as I did as a child. We applied a little hydrocortisone cream for a couple days, and didn't think much about them after that. I remarked a few days later that they were still there, but again, I thought they were just slow-healing mosquito bites.
Yesterday afternoon, there was an... incident (I will spare you the details)... involving one of the dogs and the girls. It led to an unscheduled bath, the first one I've given them myself since the preterm labor fun began, and when I took Claire's shirt off, I was horrified to find that those two little bites had grown into giant rashes, each the size of a silver dollar. They were warm to the touch, red on the outside with a lighter inner ring and a red center, like a bullseye. In short, they looked EXACTLY like the classic Lyme Disease rash. Surely not, I thought, but I called the pediatrician this morning and brought her in.
Wikipedia says that "Of cases reported to the United States CDC, the ratio of Lyme disease infection is 7.9 cases for every 100,000 persons," and the state health department says that "very few cases have been reported in the state". After Katherine's ITP, I thought that we HAD to have met our statistical-anomaly quota for the year, even leaving my pregnancy complications out of it. Right?
The pediatrician, while admitting that she's never actually seen a case of Lyme in person, is reasonably certain that's what it is -- the rash is unmistakable, and the history fits. She drew blood for the antibody test, which may not show positive yet (it often doesn't until you've had it for several weeks), but felt confident enough to go ahead and treat Claire for Lyme. Three weeks of amoxicillin, and she'll be fine.
Unless, that is, a meteor falls on our house in the meantime. Honestly, given our luck over the last year, I don't feel entirely confident ruling that out.
Two weeks ago, my sister asked if the girls could come visit her and my niece for the weekend. Since G's been doing solo weekend duty for all these weeks of bedrest, I packed them off without a second thought to her house. M lives in a very rural area about an hour and a half from here, and the directions to her house include "turn off the paved road".
A fantastic time was had by all, and we picked up two worn-out babies on Sunday. The next day, I noticed that Claire had two little bites on the back of her arm. I figured they were just mosquito bites -- both girls welt up badly in reaction to them, just as I did as a child. We applied a little hydrocortisone cream for a couple days, and didn't think much about them after that. I remarked a few days later that they were still there, but again, I thought they were just slow-healing mosquito bites.
Yesterday afternoon, there was an... incident (I will spare you the details)... involving one of the dogs and the girls. It led to an unscheduled bath, the first one I've given them myself since the preterm labor fun began, and when I took Claire's shirt off, I was horrified to find that those two little bites had grown into giant rashes, each the size of a silver dollar. They were warm to the touch, red on the outside with a lighter inner ring and a red center, like a bullseye. In short, they looked EXACTLY like the classic Lyme Disease rash. Surely not, I thought, but I called the pediatrician this morning and brought her in.
Wikipedia says that "Of cases reported to the United States CDC, the ratio of Lyme disease infection is 7.9 cases for every 100,000 persons," and the state health department says that "very few cases have been reported in the state". After Katherine's ITP, I thought that we HAD to have met our statistical-anomaly quota for the year, even leaving my pregnancy complications out of it. Right?
The pediatrician, while admitting that she's never actually seen a case of Lyme in person, is reasonably certain that's what it is -- the rash is unmistakable, and the history fits. She drew blood for the antibody test, which may not show positive yet (it often doesn't until you've had it for several weeks), but felt confident enough to go ahead and treat Claire for Lyme. Three weeks of amoxicillin, and she'll be fine.
Unless, that is, a meteor falls on our house in the meantime. Honestly, given our luck over the last year, I don't feel entirely confident ruling that out.
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
High-water mark
As of today, I'm officially more pregnant than I've ever been before. Despite a lot of contraction activity over the last, I'm still not dilated, so I might even make it to term. In any case, I think NICU is off the menu, and that's very good indeed.
I'm starting to get excited to meet the baby, though I'm a little nervous as well. I recall feeling very much the same way with the girls, though. At the time, it was apprehension about coping with newborn twins, and now it's apprehension about coping with a newborn and toddler twins. I did just fine then, or at least I felt like I was doing just fine at the time; it was pretty tough in retrospect, but I had a massive post-birth high, which helped a great deal. This time around, the mechanics will be easier if nothing else, so I think it will all work out just fine.
Now, I've just got to try not to have him until after the girls' birthday on Saturday. We are doing nothing more elaborate than cake/ice cream/pizza on Friday night for a few friends and relatives, but they're two, so it's not like they know the difference. Still, I would like not to miss it, and I would also like for Brother to have his own birthday and not share with the girls. One birthday for three children would be a little bit skewed!
I'm starting to get excited to meet the baby, though I'm a little nervous as well. I recall feeling very much the same way with the girls, though. At the time, it was apprehension about coping with newborn twins, and now it's apprehension about coping with a newborn and toddler twins. I did just fine then, or at least I felt like I was doing just fine at the time; it was pretty tough in retrospect, but I had a massive post-birth high, which helped a great deal. This time around, the mechanics will be easier if nothing else, so I think it will all work out just fine.
Now, I've just got to try not to have him until after the girls' birthday on Saturday. We are doing nothing more elaborate than cake/ice cream/pizza on Friday night for a few friends and relatives, but they're two, so it's not like they know the difference. Still, I would like not to miss it, and I would also like for Brother to have his own birthday and not share with the girls. One birthday for three children would be a little bit skewed!
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
The good and the Gustav
Good: 35 weeks! Six more days, and I'll surpass my first pregnancy. The birth is now officially scheduled for September 25, although Dr. Pro says she really doesn't think I'll make it that long. I'm mostly effaced, which while not uncommon for this point in pregnancy, doesn't necessarily bode well for going another month. I kind of have the feeling it may be getting close -- restlessness, nesting, and some fairly intense contractions. If I had to guess, I think he'll be born the next week or two, and my money's on early next week.
Thankfully, I have been able to engage in some intensive shoppiness, so I have clothes to put him in and blankets to wrap him in. My mom had bought a few things, but she simply cannot be convinced of his likely size. I called her on Monday to tell her about the things I'd bought, and she was all, I hope you bought them in 3-6 months! Um, no, because he likely won't be wearing that size until NOVEMBER. I understand, to an extent -- my sister was nearly 11 lbs, and I was a hair short of 10 -- but I'll be very surprised if he clocks in at 8, or chunks up quickly afterwards. I had a hard time not picking up a few preemie-sized things, just in case...
The other interesting wrinkle:
Yeeeaaaah. It's early days yet, but if it follows the projected track, it's gonna hit almost exactly where Katrina did, potentially at close to the same strength at landfall. Katrina was still a Category 1 hurricane when it passed over my house, 150 miles inland. We personally came out of it relatively easy, with no significant damage and without power for less than 24 hours, though my mother went without it for over a week less than two miles away. However, the entire city was a giant freakin' mess for more than a week -- trees down everywhere, no power, and no gas. It felt like (and was) a disaster area, even this far north, and was much worse for G's family on the Coast.
Understandably, everyone is a little bit on edge, and that most definitely includes me. Of course, Murphy's Law would seem to imply that my odds of going into labor increase during a natural disaster, particularly one which may well strand my in-laws at home for days. And did you know that there's apparently a well-established correlation between falling barometric pressure and onset of labor?
Of course, hopefully the storm will go elsewhere, or peter out before landfall, or otherwise become no big thing. But if you're picking days in the betting pool, Tuesday/Wednesday wouldn't be terrible ones to pick, methinks.
Thankfully, I have been able to engage in some intensive shoppiness, so I have clothes to put him in and blankets to wrap him in. My mom had bought a few things, but she simply cannot be convinced of his likely size. I called her on Monday to tell her about the things I'd bought, and she was all, I hope you bought them in 3-6 months! Um, no, because he likely won't be wearing that size until NOVEMBER. I understand, to an extent -- my sister was nearly 11 lbs, and I was a hair short of 10 -- but I'll be very surprised if he clocks in at 8, or chunks up quickly afterwards. I had a hard time not picking up a few preemie-sized things, just in case...
The other interesting wrinkle:
Yeeeaaaah. It's early days yet, but if it follows the projected track, it's gonna hit almost exactly where Katrina did, potentially at close to the same strength at landfall. Katrina was still a Category 1 hurricane when it passed over my house, 150 miles inland. We personally came out of it relatively easy, with no significant damage and without power for less than 24 hours, though my mother went without it for over a week less than two miles away. However, the entire city was a giant freakin' mess for more than a week -- trees down everywhere, no power, and no gas. It felt like (and was) a disaster area, even this far north, and was much worse for G's family on the Coast.
Understandably, everyone is a little bit on edge, and that most definitely includes me. Of course, Murphy's Law would seem to imply that my odds of going into labor increase during a natural disaster, particularly one which may well strand my in-laws at home for days. And did you know that there's apparently a well-established correlation between falling barometric pressure and onset of labor?
Of course, hopefully the storm will go elsewhere, or peter out before landfall, or otherwise become no big thing. But if you're picking days in the betting pool, Tuesday/Wednesday wouldn't be terrible ones to pick, methinks.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Nearly there
34 weeks, people. No matter what, he'll be at least a near-term baby.
Actually, it is looking like we have a really good shot at going all the way -- 10 weeks of near-constant irritability doesn't seem to have had any effect at all. Dr. Pro wants me to stay on the Procardia for another two or even three weeks, but I can ease up on the bedrest to some extent. I'm still supposed to spend most of my time sitting or reclining, but I'm free to move around the house more, run a few short errands, and I even have the OK to go out to dinner or a movie or some other "quiet" activity.
Yesterday's ultrasound showed an estimated fetal weight of 5 lbs even, exactly consistent with gestational age. Dr. Pro says she'd be shocked if he actually weighs that -- I'm measuring a full 5 weeks behind, and I am neither tall nor long in the torso, so there's some question about where exactly I'd be keeping 5 lbs' worth of baby. In any case, it looks like he probably won't top 8 lbs even if I make it all the way to my scheduled CS. Guess I'll be picking up a few newborn-sized things for coming-home wear after all!
Actually, it is looking like we have a really good shot at going all the way -- 10 weeks of near-constant irritability doesn't seem to have had any effect at all. Dr. Pro wants me to stay on the Procardia for another two or even three weeks, but I can ease up on the bedrest to some extent. I'm still supposed to spend most of my time sitting or reclining, but I'm free to move around the house more, run a few short errands, and I even have the OK to go out to dinner or a movie or some other "quiet" activity.
Yesterday's ultrasound showed an estimated fetal weight of 5 lbs even, exactly consistent with gestational age. Dr. Pro says she'd be shocked if he actually weighs that -- I'm measuring a full 5 weeks behind, and I am neither tall nor long in the torso, so there's some question about where exactly I'd be keeping 5 lbs' worth of baby. In any case, it looks like he probably won't top 8 lbs even if I make it all the way to my scheduled CS. Guess I'll be picking up a few newborn-sized things for coming-home wear after all!
Sunday, August 03, 2008
Black velvet in that slow Southern style
One of the few joys of a late-summer pregnancy in the Deep South? Fresh local watermelon, ripe and chilled.
I've eaten three-quarters of the melon all by myself, and it wasn't a small melon. I eat it till I'm stuffed, and I would go back for another chunk if I had anywhere left to put it. It's out of control.
I've eaten three-quarters of the melon all by myself, and it wasn't a small melon. I eat it till I'm stuffed, and I would go back for another chunk if I had anywhere left to put it. It's out of control.
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