2 weeks in

The birth story is still coming, I promise.  What with all the pumping and feeding and trying to sleep when the baby does (and visitors and laundry, dear god, the laundry will it ever end?), throw in a dog that is still acclimating to the change and keeping baby upstairs and a temperamental laptop, I get maybe an hour a day to be on the computer which is not nearly enough to do everything I need to do.

But in the interim . . .

It's shocking to realize my baby is already (almost) 2 weeks old.  On one hand, she's been here forever and ever.  On the other, what a terribly short time that is.  I'm realizing the heartbreak of parenting a living child - the time flies so quickly and it is so ephemeral.  Already, Vivienne is changing. 

My little tiny girl had regained her birth weight by her one week appointment, and now she's visibly bigger (and heavier).  She's getting a second chin and chubby arms and legs and her hands no longer look a size too big.  Her hair is lighter (unsurprisingly, she's going to be a blonde child - DH was platinum blonde and I had dark blonde hair until late toddlerhood when it began darkening), and her eyes are changing too.  It's still debatable whether they will stay grey like mine or turn green like DH's.  She tries to hold her head up, eager to see the world around her.

I remember telling my mother last week that I don't want her to change, that she can't get bigger yet, that she's got to stay small forever, or at least long enough for me to enjoy it.  Alas, time marches on and I can't quite get over a tiny bit of resentment at how much of it has been spent sleeping or attached to the pump.  I try to make the most of the time she is alert and awake.  I've spent hours just watching the expressions flit over her face (three guesses where my favorite nickname of 'Baby Fish Face' came from).  She has the most gorgeous smile and there is also a grin and a sideways glance of the eyes that will be killer some day when they aren't just reflexes and ingrained survival instinct but are 'real' - though I'll happily coo over the expressions now, because they are so amazing.

So she's already begun to grow, and grow up, and as sad as that makes me I also can't wait for more.  I can't wait to see how she reacts to the pool and going swimming and what she thinks of applesauce and pear puree and watching her discover things and begin moving and talking . . . I want to jump ahead and I want time to stop all at once.

It's different being a mother to a living child (perceptive, aren't I?) - the thing is that time did stop with Gabriel.  There was only then and that was it.  We only had a few minutes to cram in all the love of a lifetime.  We never got to watch the expressions on his face, we never got to see what would happen next.  I'll never know what his eye color would have been, nor what he would have liked or loathed.  He is forever frozen in that moment of his life and his death, almost as frozen as a picture.  The only thing we knew after is grief, and trying to piece together and remember what joy had come before.  Whereas, with Vivienne, it's ongoing.  She is vital, she moves, she breathes, she changes, she lives.  We are not forever mourning that moment of loss, that snuffed potential - we are mourning each tiny moment even while anticipating the next.  The anticipation, the expectation, the hope of the future, that is what is different.

I miss him terribly right now.  I know he weighed heavily on DH, especially at the end of my pregnancy, but I was still in suspended animation.  I knew then that what would weigh on me would be the common everyday things of life with a living baby, and I was right.  Doing things with Viv, it reminds me of the things I didn't do with Gabe.  The absence is magnified by her presence.  Sometimes I think I feel a small presence, a little boy at my side peering over my shoulder, unsure what to make of this creature, unsure where he fits in now.  Poor older brother, is it any easier being a spirit sibling?

And yet, the sadness is not lingering, not really.  Perhaps it is lost in the exhaustion of a newborn, perhaps it's buried to erupt later.  Perhaps there is simply too much joy in cuddling the flesh and blood that are tangible in my arms.  If I kiss her every chance I can, and hold her close to my heart for an extra beat or two, well, that's not so strange, I expect.

Ah, I hear her stirring.  It's nearly time for her next feeding and I need to pump.  Again.  But here are a couple of pictures.  Somehow, we ended up with a completely gorgeous baby. 

                                         (Vivienne, 6 days old, half asleep, half smiling)

                  

           (Vivienne, 11 days old, looking out the window, presumably thinking deep, deep thoughts)

Vivienne Rose has arrived!

Forgive the brevity and lateness. Between new baby girl and internet and laptop issues, this is the first chance I've had to get online (seriously).

Details and pics to come later, promise.

For now though, vital statistics:

High blood pressure that refused to go down led to 24 hour collection, which I was told was negative, but actually did contain protein - enough for a 'mild pre-eclampsia' diagnosis. Even higher blood pressure led to overnight admission for monitoring and another 24 hour urine collection (increasing proteins) on Friday night/Saturday by a fill-in doc of the practice, followed by release to strict bedrest and follow up with my doctor on Monday.

That resulted in admission to the hospital for induction. My doc said that if she hadn't been on vacation, I would have already had the baby because she wasn't thrilled with the developing pre-eclampsia, no matter how mild it appeared to be.

Cervidil was started around 4:30 pm on April 30, exactly 39 weeks. There is a really funny (to me, anyway) story I'll tell later about my labor/delivery and how it was rather precipitate for what we had planned.

Vivienne made her debut at 8:17 am on May 1 after about an hour to an hour and a half of pushing. I was on mag sulfate, and between that and the sertraline in the last tri, they had NICU pediatriacs standing by in case of breathing difficulties. She was taken directly to the warmer where she scored a 6 on the 1 minute apgar (points removed for color and tone). Her breathing was fine, but no crying or fussing. At 5 minutes, her apgar was 8 (again, points removed for color and tone) and it was 9 at 10 minutes. They handed her to DH and finally told him it was normal for mag babies to be a little pale (he was getting really concerned). She pinked up fine and hasn't stopped moving or flailing since.

She weighed in at 7 lbs, 9 oz (ha! where was my monster baby?!) and she was 21 inches long. Initially, breastfeeding went well, subsequently we've had difficulties latching, which have been resolved by pumping and supplementing with formula (making all three of us much, much happier and more relaxed). We are trying to catch up sleep - the hospital, lovely as it was, wasn't conducive to it, since I had to spend an extra 24 hours on mag in bed in L&D (which isn't really designed for that, tbh). My mom came in the day she was born, my in-laws visited soon after. We have some awesome pictures. She's absolutely delightful in every way, and we couldn't be more in love.

Gabriel is very present in my mind, as I trace her gorgeous little face and see the familial similarities, as I hold her and remember holding him. The joy is undiluted, but the sadness is also present. Vivienne does not replace him, never would we dream of asking her to, but the hole in our hearts and lives is differently shaped now - stronger in some areas and more raw in others.

Still, our girl is wonderful, and we are existing in exhausted amazement.

I will cut you.

So after all this time, I'm still here at a day shy of 38 weeks. Baby has moved head down and into birth position (though is not well engaged in the pelvis yet), and is healthy as can be or so say the tests. The last growth scan indicated a 7+ pound infant and my new doctor cheerfully informed me that if I go to 40 weeks, we may have a 9-pounder on our hands. I did not find that amusing.

They originally told me less than a 5% chance of getting to May, and now we're looking at scheduling an induction for that first week of May. It's surreal - happy news, of course! the best possible outcomes - but surreal. I'm hanging in there - the complaints of pregnancy are normal ones and I'm tired and ready to be done with work. They will not let me go past my due date, but unless baby makes an appearance this coming week or the 24-hour urine collection or bloodwork I'll do tomorrow (due to another high blood pressure reading in office) suggest pre-eclampsia, then we're pretty much looking at induction the following week. I'm guessing this will end with induction, given that not much has happened naturally. No cervical change (save some shortening) since the cerclage came out.

I find that I am tired and more grumpy than I've any real right to be. My doctors have been great with listening to me and really hearing what I am saying about my anxiety and working with me to put me at ease. I have a lot of testing and monitoring (probably made easier by the fact that my blood pressure has given high/wonky readings so they can categorize it under PIH/Pre-E observation and testing, though it continues to come back clear time and again. . .). I have a few contractions - mostly BH, I think. Random, mildly annoying. The baby is big and stretching makes me cringe because various sharp body parts are poked into painful places and there really isn't much room in there any longer.

We're mostly ready. Not at work, but hey, if I can just finish two or three things, I'll rest easy about it. We've got our plans laid out for leave and are 90% sure about our plans for childcare. The upstairs is as clean and organized as it has ever been. It's nice up there - I want to spend time there. Amazing that a mere few weeks ago, we couldn't walk all the way into one room and had dedicated pathways to navigate the other. Everything up there now has a place (save the linen closet, which we are working on today now that we've gotten new shelving). The carseat has been installed and the hospital bag packed since the night before the cerclage removal. The co-sleeper, pack'n'play, swing and bouncer have been assembled and have batteries ready and waiting. The nursery is pretty much done, though DH is going to go over the carpet with the steam cleaner one more time (there is a persistent sort of stain in one corner - it gets lighter each time, but isn't gone yet). We've interviewed a pediatrician, and while I won't claim it was love at first sight, the practice's policies were in line with our own and she is board certified and affiliated with the hospitals I wanted and takes our insurance, so it's as good a place to start as any. If we don't really click with her, there are hundreds of others to choose from.

 Beyond that, I'm just sort of assuming on-the-job training. I know a fair amount about newborn and infant care nad my husband knows much less, but in the end, we shrugged and said they'll show us much of what we need in the hospital and the internet is full of resources. Certainly, dumber people that us manage to reproduce and not kill their offspring through sheer ineptitude or lack of experience, so I'm going to assume that we'll survive.

God, I hope so.

 But mostly, the only thing I really wanted to say is that the next person who smirks and tells me to get some sleep now, HAHAHAHAHA, because you won't be able to once the baby arrives is getting shanked. It's neither clever nor helpful advice, and because I can't sleep and am fucking tired, I'm nearing the point where I will not be held responsible for my actions.

Oh, hi! Yeah, we're still here.

So . . . yeah.

Short version: Baby is doing well, at 35 and a half weeks, passing BPPs and moving strongly, practicing breathing and flipping breech and back (currently breech. sigh). Cerclage is being removed on Monday. More on that later.

Long version:

Let's start with work. I'm going to summarize a long period by saying this - I applied for a vacancy in my office when my colleague left. I was one of the final candidates, but I didn't get the job. It went to someone with more experience. The entire episode left me feeling pretty bitter - not that they didn't hire me, I can understand why on many levels and the person they did hire is fantastic and I genuinely like that person - but the way certain things were handled (or not - like not informing me that I was not chosen, which is a huge lack of common courtesy given that I've worked here for four years and share an office with the new person). It's been a revelation and a big disappointment; not only not getting a job that would have been personally loads better for me, but finding out that I mean less to this organization than I thought hurt me a lot. Stupid in many ways, but after all the time and effort (unpaid and largely unrewarded effort) I've put it in, it was distressing to learn that it didn't matter more. Add to that the fact that I took on an extra department (essentially a full time job by itself)in September and have not received any additional compensation for it, and when I became eligible again in March was asked to wait until September 2012 for a reclassification, and I haven't been a particularly happy worker bee. Now, before pitchforks and such go up, the main reason for the request to wait was to my monetary advantage in the long run - there are raises coming, and if I reclass now I will be ineligible. Waiting allows me to get a higher salary (based on a higher rate + plus higher equity rates across the positions), but still . . . a full year of trying to do 3 jobs, for free, is not easy to swallow. Nor is the fact that I essentially allowed it to happen and screwed myself over in the process.

On the other hand, it made cutting back my hours easier and boy oh boy can I not wait for maternity leave just to be away for awhile.

What else has been going on?

Baby stuff. I kept meaning to update and then I'd think, well, let me wait for the next appointment. And uh, here we are, coming up on cerclage removal.

Generally, things are fine. No gestational diabetes, child growing nicely. There was a bit of a scare around 30 weeks, when the perinatalogist appt revealed a baby 1-3 weeks ahead in measurements across the board and also fluid levels above normal, but not quite into official polyhydramnios range. That could be associated with birth defects. However, when I returned for what ended up being my last appointment at 33 and a half weeks, the growth had evened out and was within a week of gestational age, and the fluid levels had returned to normal. Apparently, we just literally caught a growth spurt in progress. At 33 and a half weeks, the baby weighed over 5 lbs, and the peri absolutely glowed about how well things had gone and . . . released me. He told me he'd see me again next pregnancy for another stitch.

I've since been on weekly appointments with my OB, with a BPP/AFI each time. The first one passed, but not by much, as the child decided that was the perfect time to nap and apparently takes sleep as seriously as I do. No big deal, except when you are doing an u/s specifically to check on things like, oh, movement and variable heart-rate and practice breathing . . . but the last one was a fiesty moving baby. Literally flipping back and forth, back and forth between vertex and breech.

Cerclage is coming out on Monday, around noon. We hope baby has returned to vertex, but it comes out either way. It is possible that baby could be born shortly thereafter, though more than likely it will be some time. My cervix has begun to shorten, but no signs of dilation or effacement yet. Of course, the instability/incompetency is at the interal os, so my water could break next Wednesday and then comes baby. Or I could be induced at the end of the month. It doesn't really make planning very easy, to be honest, when you say "I could have the baby Monday. Or in four weeks. Yeah." We just hope baby is head down when/if my water breaks, as it is an emergency c-section otherwise because of the risks of cord prolapse, etc. Clearly, there is room enough to move, but the inclination appears to be . . . lacking. Monkey baby. Or as I blurted out when I found out we were breech AGAIN, "Little bastard!" The u/s tech looked horrified, and not overly reassured when I said, "Oh don't worry, I know who the father is!" Ok, no, that just happened in my head. I thought it would be in poor taste to call the baby a bastard. But I thought it. So I'm not a very nice person. Meh.

As for how I am feeling - awful. I am completely exhausted, not sleeping well (does any pregnant woman sleep well at 9 months?) and my pelvis feels like it is going to split in half whenever I get up and walk. Also, if I stay in any one position (sitting, standing, laying down, whatever) for too long (how long is too long is unknown and variable) I can barely move. It's awful and painful and I feel vaguely amazed that I never realized before how painful this could be. But so long as baby is good, I hang in there. I'm starting to feel more cramping and a contraction here or there, but nothing awful yet.

Emotionally, I'm fairly stable, but the anxiety is increasing and the idea the baby could be here next week is stressing me out. We don't feel ready. At all. There is just so much to get done. The nursery is mostly finished, save a few details like ironing curtains or carpet cleaning, etc. Diapers and clothes are washed and ready. But the rest of the house is a mess and the carseat isn't installed, etc. Much to do.

We toured the hospital last night - there is a new wing that has just opened for maternity services and it is swanky and nice. I mean, like really really nice. That, more than anything, bummed me out about the increasing likelihood of a c-section. I mean, whatever is necessary to get baby here safely is what needs to happen. But the labor/delivery rooms are incredible and the labor nurses are all doula trained and so on and so on. . . I want a chance for one piece of this (other than conception, as my husband reminded me mischievously) not to require the highest levels of medical intervention and monitoring and care, you know? I won't feel like a failure or anything if it doesn't happen that way, but it would be nice. But again, whatever is needed to get baby here alive and safe and sound.

So, that's the rough update. I'm sure I've skipped tons, but frankly, I have to get back to work. Too much left to do and potentially very little time left to do it.

Today was a better day.

Yesterday wasn't really a lot of fun, what with the fasting and glucose and needle sticks and all. And the surprise 'payroll is running a day early!' escapades and so on. But the good news is that it ended and overall, I slept a little better (by which I mean it didn't take me two hours to fall asleep again after I got up to pee).http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif

Today had its moments as well, which weren't fun, but I didn't cry. I didn't feel like crying. I laughed several times. Dealt with a few issues, and absolutely loved the Onion article from today that could be read as a retelling of my recent work experience entitled "Nation Trying, Okay?" (can be found here). (Seriously - LOVED IT).

Oh, plus also?

I DO NOT HAVE GESTATIONAL DIABETES.

Chocolate cake and donuts for all! Ok, not really, because that's not healthy. But I could not be more relieved. All the values from all four draws, plus the HGBA1C, were well within normal ranges/cut offs. That risk being off the table is so huge to me, I cannot explain the buoyant feeling I had much of the day. The idea of the increased risks associated with GD, the additional stress of monitoring and treatment . . . all of it, no longer a concern. Thank you, body, for getting this one right.

Of course, the swelling is getting worse and my b/p is creeping up. And my doc said I've got to find a way to destress and cut my hours or I'm going to be pulled out of work, so it's not all roses. And I know nothing about the job application, except that my coworker was apparently really surprised I applied (I wasn't supposed to hear that. But I did.) - I try really hard not to fret and worry over it, though I'm not always successful. I've left work earlier than usual, though there is still work to be done in that arena. I'm scheduled to discuss these issues with my boss soon - not put off on my end, but massive budget reports can't be put off either, and I was happy to wait until we could really discuss it.

The anti-depressants were not fun the first few days - nausea, headaches, dizziness, etc. But it seems (a week later) to be getting better, and I do see some improvement. Like I said - sleep is a bit better, not crying every day, feels like a better ability to focus or at least not get completely overwhelmed. I mean, I can still hear the voices and they say awful things, but it's easier to remind myself that my perceptions are skewed right now. I don't know if that makes sense or not. I don't feel suddenly all better, it's possible this is initially a placebo effect, but I feel a little more centered or stable and that makes the day easier, so I'm not going to analyze it too much.

So yeah. Something feels a little like sunlight today, and I'm going to take it for what it's worth. And maybe enjoy a cookie.

Just to ice the cake . . .

Oh, that's an even worse pun than I realized, because I am about to update on my glucose screen - FAIL. Cut off is 130 and I came in at an astonishing 144.

Yee-haw.

Three hour glucose tolerance test up next, on Tuesday. I cannot express how delighted I am. Of course, if I have GD (as I'd expected to), then I want it known and treated. Unquestionably. But oh, it makes me so nervous - baby is already measuring/weighing ahead of the curve (good growth or macrosoma?) and that is worrisome. As is the risk of delayed lung maturity associated with diabetes (particularly when one considers I've just started taking Zoloft again, which carries a minute risk of breathing problems at birth as well) and the increased risk of prematurely aging placenta. I know I will be in good hands and continue to be monitored and everything, but the anxiety just ratcheted up ten notches.

But baby is kicking hard inside me, still head down (back to my right side, I'm guessing), so I have to suppose whatever happens we will be fine.

I'm still really unhappy about this whole GTT thing though. Been there, done that before. It's massively boring, headachey, shaky and generally not fun.

Update to the last.

Not much of one, I'm afraid. I'm feeling pretty scattered and uncertain. I felt a bit more peacefulness having a plan, and to be honest, I had a really nice weekend. I slept a bit better, went out with DH and even updated one of my stories (the Ron/Hermione piece of Controversial Horror That I Just Do Not Get).

Oh, right. I need to back up a moment. My coworker/former supervisor announced her resignation Friday. That has affected a number of things. I don't care to go into all the backstory, but I knew awhile ago this was possible, and knew last week when the new job offer was made. The soon-to-be vacant position is a couple of grades higher than my present position, pays well, and is busy and carries a lot of responsibility, but is less work than I am currently trying to manage (being one job, not three). They are looking to hire an internal candidate and to move quickly. I applied yesterday. I have no idea what will happen. I want that job so badly I can taste it, and the thought of not getting it fills me with despair and tears. It would be so much better for me personally that I feel sick whenever I think about it.

So that's going on. I had a panicky couple of evenings struggling with rewriting my resume and penning a good cover letter and digging up references and chastising myself for over-thinking the entire fucking thing because, dude, the hiring manager is my current boss; she knows me and is going to hire me or not on the basis of my performance to date and my strengths/weaknesses. She's not even going to read my resume or cover letter except to see if I took it seriously. It's done and out of my hands now though. I don't know if there is anyone else they have in mind, and I haven't spoken to my boss about it except a brief conversation in which I told her I was going to apply and that I wasn't sure about using her as a reference since she is the hiring manager, but that I would like to list her since I'm just updating everything anyway. She said it was fine, not to worry about it, and chuckled. Whatever the hell that means. I'd like to think she wouldn't let me make an ass out of myself and get my hopes up (she knows how badly I want a higher salary and how much is personally dependent on it for me) if I weren't in consideration, but who the fuck knows?

I didn't go to work on Monday. I didn't sleep well and was exhausted and decided if there was one day I could spare, that was it. I slept for 6 extra hours and felt relatively good when I got up. I then logged onto my work remotely, thinking I could do one or two things from home, and lo and behold, I had nearly 50 emails. I immediately felt a headache come on and subsequently wanted to cry. So I shut it down and ate some cereal. Tuesday was ok. Yesterday was a lot of walking and an OB appointment.

Baby looks fine. Head down (for now), good fluid, cervix over 4 cm (the tech wasn't sure why I had a cerclage, but I didn't bother explaining). Baby kept trying to grab a very long, big foot. It was entertaining to watch. I've only gained 1 pound in the six weeks since I last saw my OB. My b/p was ok, but Dr. B wasn't thrilled with my regular readings. I redid the 1 hour glucose challenge (rather unexpectedly). Talked with Dr. B (whom, you may or may not recall, is due 6 days after I am) about the upcoming rotation and how things will work as she is cutting back hours and availability.

And then we talked about the two big things. Work and depression. She said that I have to work less and find a way to reduce the stress. That she will write letters or make calls or do whatever she can to help but that if I don't, she's going to pull me out of work and put me on full bedrest. She said she doesn't like bedrest, it's not fun, she isn't sure how effective it really is, but that if it is the only way she can get me to stop, she will do it.

She also agreed, when I laid out my symptoms for her that I am depressed, and that starting medication immediately was a good idea. She wants me to follow through with getting a psych, but called in the prescription for Zoloft with no hesitation. Glad it's not just in my head, anyway.

So while it seems like a generally good visit, I left feeling so much worse. When I returned to work, it was nearly 5:00 (DH had to stay late and I had reports due yesterday that I hadn't yet submitted). There were no handicap spots available, but I was already in a lot of pain from the walking I'd done already that day. So I drove around, eventually for 30 minutes, waiting for someone to leave so I could park near the building and go finish my reports. The longer it dragged on, the more upset I got. I started crying in the car as I circled the building.

It comes down to this. I feel like an utter failure. I'm failing at my job, and now I have to reduce my hours and my stress. I'm already so far behind I don't know how it's possible. Reduction in hours isn't even realistic, given that I commute with my husband who can't reduce his hours. I feel like I've let everyone down by taking on a task I couldn't handle and now things are falling apart and I'm walking in and announcing my doctor says I have to stop it. I feel like a failure as a mother/pregnant woman because I shouldn't even question the necessity of it or how to do it if it's affecting my child and his/her safety. I can't even manage the balance when the kid isn't even here yet. And I can't stand how limited I am and how bad it makes me feel, like a total failure as a woman because I need that stupid handicap permit and that stupid handicap spot and was in tears of pain because I could barely walk back out to the car to leave last night. It feels like everything I'm touching is failing.

Maybe that is depression talking. But there again, is another failure. I managed through the terrible, horrible anxiety of first tri and then through 21 weeks, and then through viability - white knuckled and sick with fear, it's true - but without medication. The times I teetered, I went back to trying to make it. And now my job has driven to back to taking meds and I feel weak. I know that isn't true. I don't think people who need meds are weak, and I've taken meds before and they helped. I think I've been right to say, "No, I'm past the point I can do this without help" and clearly, my OB agrees with me. But it feels like another jeering voice, another cry of "See? You aren't good enough, and you'll never be good enough. Someone else could manage all of this. You are too stupid or too weak to get it right." It's nothing to do with logic, but it hurts a lot.

I just want everything to stop. I want the other job to come through, which would resolve my money fears and my daycare dilemmas and the worst of the job issues. I thank those of you who commented or sent messages encouraging me to quit or find a new job or make a plan. I wanted to say - I get it. I do. It's just not that easy when you are 28 weeks pregnant. There is no way I could just quit - we've got debt, not enough savings, my insurance is provided through my job, and I make about 60% of our household income. Quitting is simply not optional. As for a new job - well, I've applied for one. If that doesn't work, there will be serious conversation about how to adjust the current one - but I will, whatever happens on that front, probably look for another job after I return from maternity leave. There is no point in looking now. I do want to say though, that part of what makes it hard is that I actually really like a good deal about my job. Not the current situation, not the new department, but the other departments (frustrating as they can occasionally be, that will be anywhere), and my division. I like where things are headed under the big head boss and I want to be a part of it. That makes the rest of this feel so much worse.

Anyway. That's where things are right now. That's where I have to leave it. Just try to get through the day, and then rest. Repeat tomorrow.