Today The Girlie and I went for our visit to the Beloved Dr S. Today My Little Snooks weighs 3 pounds and 12 ounces! Dr S says his growth is right on track. There is some shortening of his arm bones, but not the leg bones. His brain and kidneys are still the same with no worsening of the dilation. Dr S says that the mitral valve regurgitation has resolved, but there is some evidence of slight tricuspid valve regurgitation. Slight. And we have new pictures of Baby Face!
My baby shower is set for November 14th! The invitations will go out shortly. I've been frantically searching for the dress I wore for both of The Little's baby showers but so far, no good. I cannot imagine I would have thrown it away, even with the weight loss, but I cannot find it!
The Beloved and I have been discussing names. So far we have Benjamin, Theodore and some variation of William Wallace. We also like Amadeus of the awesome composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. I'm still liking Jack. And there's a favorite game of mine that I never thought I'd ever get to play again! I make up names and deliver them to the curious strangers who are brave enough to ask, "Do you have a name yet?" This weeks winner is Eggbert Wyborn Ethelwulf! I deliver that zinger with a straight face and suitably proud glow, watch the person's face crumple and try to recover with a lopsided smile, and then walk away stifling giggles! It is truly evil, but it is so much fun!
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
The Tour & Monsters
Tonight I toured the birthing center at the local hopspittle where the Jackster will be born. It was quite an awe inspiring moment to walk into the birthing room and see the warming table all decked out and waiting to receive a fresh baby. I won't be delivering in one of those rooms because I'm having another cesarean, but the table will be the same exact thing waiting to receive our pink, wet, wiggly Baby Boy. If all goes well and he isn't whisked off the the NICU right away. Yes, that's what I thought as I approached the warming table. This worry is killing me. Next the nurse giving the tour walked all of The Waddles down the hall to see a room we'd be in after delivery. While we walked, another older mom sidled up to me to ask if this my my first or last. She mentioned that she thought it was her last because she was 43. I said I was 44 and we engaged in a little joking commiseration about how much harder it was on our bodies at our ages. She seemed open and friendly so I asked if she'd had any prenatal testing. She got a look on her face like maybe I'd farted and said "Oh noooo! We would never do that!" Clearly, the only people who test are monsters. "We're Christians," she now said with a pinched face, "We don't do that!" I let the space increase between us and moved to the side and as others came between us I muttered "Oh." And for the remainder of the tour I stayed as far away from her as possible. The way she said those few words made me feel dirty. Her words made me feel unworthy. Unclean. Why I felt this way is beyond me. We are Christian. We opted to test. We braved The Hard News. I started researching right away to find out how to care for My Baby with Down syndrome. And I've stumbled upon stories that sometimes battered my soul. Some families who do prenatal testing are given devastating news. Their babies will not live. The few that do survive pregnancy will survive birth by a few hours at most. If you can stand having your heart broken, you can read about Sweet Little Eliot. Just seeing his picture while trying to create a link has me crying and feeling deep soul wrenching pain once again, and I didn't even read through the story this time. That family did indeed get devastating news. And they still chose to give their Dear Little Eliot a chance at life. Stories like theirs have made me come to know that Down syndrome is so totally doable. People who choose to test are not monsters. I don't know why that woman's words made me feel like filth, but in the end it just made me even more protective of My Sweet Spud.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
DSALA Barbecue
This was a big day. I took The Girlie with me to the DSALA New Families Barbecue. I left The Middle at home. I didn't want to have to explain 552 times why this person looked that way or why that person spoke funny or have to field a million other questions. He's just 7 years old on September 14th, and very inquisitive. He doesn't really have any idea what Down syndrome means. Showing him what Down syndrome looks like would not be helpful for him. He would think nothing of asking someone "Why do you talk like that?" Or, "How come your baby looks funny?" He is autistic, and while he is extremely verbal and social, he very frequently lacks the the ability to determine what should not be said out loud. I am quite certain that he would stare. Anything he sees that is new and different will often be described in great detail, with adjectives most adults don't possess in their vocabulary, in a loud excited voice. And he loves an audience! I can easily imagine we might have been invited to leave NOW after one inappropriate comment drew attention and an audience formed. The boy loves to entertain and while he often displays insight and compassion beyond his years, he is just 7 and just as frequently can be as thoughtless and outspoken as only little kids can be. I didn't want to have to police him that day and I didn't want him to have a miserable time being under constant surveillance.
I took My Girlie because she has had an immense interest in the blogs I've looked at, especially of the pictures of the babies with Down syndrome. She was frequently my little sidekick those long summer months while I trolled the Internet looking for information. If there is anyone as worried about bringing Jackie Boy home, it is my sensitive Little Girlie. She turned 10 just days after we discovered our pregnancy, but she is the child who worries and frets over concerns in their minutia. I thought it would be a good environment to expose her to the facial features and the odd speech syntaxes of children who have Down syndrome. She is also on the autism spectrum but she is the quiet and introspective kind. She is the gal who hangs back from the crowd until she is comfortable joining in, and I knew for certain that when she had questions she would take me aside and whisper them. And I knew there would be questions. I'd already been telling her that The Dumpling may well have a feeding tube in his nose. He might eventually get one in his tummy. He might need to have a clear plastic tube under his nose to give him oxygen. He might be really soft and floppy. He would likely have a flat nose and the almond shaped eyes that tilt that she'd seen in so many of the pictures we'd found online of babies with Down syndrome. This would be a safe environment to expose her to all of this and more, and she did indeed get to see that some of these babies and toddlers had this equipment, and that it was okay. We'd spent the hour long trip to the valley discussing what to expect.
What I didn't expect was that she would find an instant friend within minutes of arrival, but that is exactly what happened.
These two pre-teens hooked up and were together constantly until it was time for us to leave. When My Girlie admitted that she had trouble understanding her new friend, she just patiently started over and repeated things until she was understood, sometimes just saying them in a different way.
I also didn't expect that the little girls Mom would embrace me with such love and compassion. I was one of two pregnant women expected to be in attendance, but I was the first to arrive, hours before the other woman. So my new friend and I sat at a cozy table under a shady tree sipping water and getting to know each other. While I told her about my pregnancy and concerns for My Baby, she told me about her experiences with her own sweet girlie and the Down syndrome community in general. At least twice while I was speaking, her eyes welled up with tears and spilled over. It was like she was feeling my pain and fear in her heart. And she didn't try to placate me with empty promises. She told me what to expect and that it was going to be much different than anything I could imagine so far. She said that no matter what problems arose at his birth and after, there would be a support network to help us. She said I would find the strength I needed and that the DSALA would always be there with answers, support, personal visits if needed, and all the encouragement I could want. She said that Jack would be more like my other two babies than different. And she insisted that Jack would emote more love and devotion than I could fathom, even more than either of The Littles had. She was so wise. She was also honest and compassionate with me. She never minimized my concerns and she embraced me from the moment we met. When I finally said good bye to her at the end of the evening, amidst hugs and well wishes, I told her that she'd been a true blessing being the first person that I met. And she was!
Now we didn't sit under that tree the whole evening. She invited a woman she knew with a 5 month old baby girl over to join our group and after a few well placed questions designed to make me feel comfortable asking my own questions, she wandered off and allowed us to get to know each other a little and for her to let me hold her baby! This was my first ever experience with a little one with Down syndrome. And she was so very, very much like any other baby! Sweet, soft, wide eyed, and beautiful as only a baby can be! And then another newer mom joined our group and she also let me hold her almost 6 month old little girl. Again, she was just like any other baby. She was a little softer and had less muscle tone, but she was a sweet bundle of babiness and goodness, just like any other baby! Between the two of them, they shared their pregnancy stories and birth stories and answered a million questions from me. They explained what had been difficult and scary about their babies' health at birth and now, what was helpful, what wasn't, how to deal with families who were scared and friends who didn't know what to say, and just made me feel better about everything. They made me feel that just maybe it was going to be alright after all.
Then I wandered around meeting other families while My Girlie and her new friend sat together in a hammock swing sharing girl talk. The people I met were encouraging and helpful and embracing. Most allowed me to hold their babies. I don't think anyone said no, but I didn't ask everyone either. Some babies were eating, some were sleeping, but all of their parents shared information and encouragement. When dinner was served I loaded up My Girlie with plate and a soda and she quickly joined her new friend at a table to eat. I took my plate and found a space at a table and sat listening to the conversation, joining in at times, but mostly just sat watching these people who had managed to go on with their lives, mothers who continued to keep track of their active typical children while bouncing a baby with Down syndrome on the hip, men who continued to be loving husbands and attentive fathers, couples who remained a strong unit, people who were still living their lives. Their good lives. I was encouraged. Mostly I was relieved. We would be alright. Looking at these families, I thought we might just be better than alright!
I took My Girlie because she has had an immense interest in the blogs I've looked at, especially of the pictures of the babies with Down syndrome. She was frequently my little sidekick those long summer months while I trolled the Internet looking for information. If there is anyone as worried about bringing Jackie Boy home, it is my sensitive Little Girlie. She turned 10 just days after we discovered our pregnancy, but she is the child who worries and frets over concerns in their minutia. I thought it would be a good environment to expose her to the facial features and the odd speech syntaxes of children who have Down syndrome. She is also on the autism spectrum but she is the quiet and introspective kind. She is the gal who hangs back from the crowd until she is comfortable joining in, and I knew for certain that when she had questions she would take me aside and whisper them. And I knew there would be questions. I'd already been telling her that The Dumpling may well have a feeding tube in his nose. He might eventually get one in his tummy. He might need to have a clear plastic tube under his nose to give him oxygen. He might be really soft and floppy. He would likely have a flat nose and the almond shaped eyes that tilt that she'd seen in so many of the pictures we'd found online of babies with Down syndrome. This would be a safe environment to expose her to all of this and more, and she did indeed get to see that some of these babies and toddlers had this equipment, and that it was okay. We'd spent the hour long trip to the valley discussing what to expect.
What I didn't expect was that she would find an instant friend within minutes of arrival, but that is exactly what happened.
These two pre-teens hooked up and were together constantly until it was time for us to leave. When My Girlie admitted that she had trouble understanding her new friend, she just patiently started over and repeated things until she was understood, sometimes just saying them in a different way. I also didn't expect that the little girls Mom would embrace me with such love and compassion. I was one of two pregnant women expected to be in attendance, but I was the first to arrive, hours before the other woman. So my new friend and I sat at a cozy table under a shady tree sipping water and getting to know each other. While I told her about my pregnancy and concerns for My Baby, she told me about her experiences with her own sweet girlie and the Down syndrome community in general. At least twice while I was speaking, her eyes welled up with tears and spilled over. It was like she was feeling my pain and fear in her heart. And she didn't try to placate me with empty promises. She told me what to expect and that it was going to be much different than anything I could imagine so far. She said that no matter what problems arose at his birth and after, there would be a support network to help us. She said I would find the strength I needed and that the DSALA would always be there with answers, support, personal visits if needed, and all the encouragement I could want. She said that Jack would be more like my other two babies than different. And she insisted that Jack would emote more love and devotion than I could fathom, even more than either of The Littles had. She was so wise. She was also honest and compassionate with me. She never minimized my concerns and she embraced me from the moment we met. When I finally said good bye to her at the end of the evening, amidst hugs and well wishes, I told her that she'd been a true blessing being the first person that I met. And she was!
Now we didn't sit under that tree the whole evening. She invited a woman she knew with a 5 month old baby girl over to join our group and after a few well placed questions designed to make me feel comfortable asking my own questions, she wandered off and allowed us to get to know each other a little and for her to let me hold her baby! This was my first ever experience with a little one with Down syndrome. And she was so very, very much like any other baby! Sweet, soft, wide eyed, and beautiful as only a baby can be! And then another newer mom joined our group and she also let me hold her almost 6 month old little girl. Again, she was just like any other baby. She was a little softer and had less muscle tone, but she was a sweet bundle of babiness and goodness, just like any other baby! Between the two of them, they shared their pregnancy stories and birth stories and answered a million questions from me. They explained what had been difficult and scary about their babies' health at birth and now, what was helpful, what wasn't, how to deal with families who were scared and friends who didn't know what to say, and just made me feel better about everything. They made me feel that just maybe it was going to be alright after all.
Then I wandered around meeting other families while My Girlie and her new friend sat together in a hammock swing sharing girl talk. The people I met were encouraging and helpful and embracing. Most allowed me to hold their babies. I don't think anyone said no, but I didn't ask everyone either. Some babies were eating, some were sleeping, but all of their parents shared information and encouragement. When dinner was served I loaded up My Girlie with plate and a soda and she quickly joined her new friend at a table to eat. I took my plate and found a space at a table and sat listening to the conversation, joining in at times, but mostly just sat watching these people who had managed to go on with their lives, mothers who continued to keep track of their active typical children while bouncing a baby with Down syndrome on the hip, men who continued to be loving husbands and attentive fathers, couples who remained a strong unit, people who were still living their lives. Their good lives. I was encouraged. Mostly I was relieved. We would be alright. Looking at these families, I thought we might just be better than alright!
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Lazy and Large
I've gotten really lazy about keeping my journal, but I just can't seem to whip up enthusiasm for much these days. I'm not sad or depressed, I am just really tired all the time. At the moment there is very little that feels as good as laying down in my feather bed, bunching up my goose down comforter and snuggling into my eight goose down pillows. With the fan and the air conditioner on!
Today I am 28 weeks along. If The Baby Dear is born now he will have a good chance of survival. I spend a lot of time researching still and reading blogs of other families with a baby who has Down syndrome. It's encouraging to see their pictures and read their stories. I'm getting a better idea of what to expect when Baby Dear comes home. The Beloved and I were talking about it this evening. He expressed more of his concerns. Will he get picked on? Will it be worse or more hurtful than for the average child who gets picked on? Will he even know he's being ridiculed? Will he be able to have a job a little more meaningful than the Wal-Mart greeter or a bag boy? I have to admit that I've wondered this very thing myself. Then he voiced the concern that nearly broke my heart. "Will he ever know the love of a woman?" I have read several accounts of people with Down syndrome getting married so I pulled up a few from the net so he could read them. Of one of the couples, the young man is actually an accomplished concert pianist, but he also plays several other instruments quite well. He and his wife live independently. After The Beloved read the info on the net he sat back and said, "We'll just have to work hard to make sure he gets all the therapies you've been telling me about and help him to live as normally as possible."
I'm still seeing the doctor every week and having NSTs every Tuesday and Friday. And I've had to do another 24 hour pee test. It's cumbersome to haul those two giant bottles into the lab, but the worst part is having to remember to pee in the cup in the middle of the night, and then have to transfer it to the container instead of justjumping lumbering back into my squishy bed.
And I do mean lumbering. I have had to resort to a step stool on my side of the bed. Okay, so the bed is a full 38" off the ground, but before I got pregnant and gained 50 gallons of fluid, I could take a running jump from the doorway and still land in safety. And yes, I have actually done that running jump thing. On occasion. Now I can't climb into my own bed without the step stool and if I attempt getting in on The Beloved's side of the bed, that quite gracefully involves his hands on either side of my broad expanse of butt to hoist me up. Really makes a gal feel pretty! Especially when The Beloved takes a few steps back after I land just in case that tremor and rumbling sound is a precursor to the bed falling down. Yeah, I feel pretty!
Today I am 28 weeks along. If The Baby Dear is born now he will have a good chance of survival. I spend a lot of time researching still and reading blogs of other families with a baby who has Down syndrome. It's encouraging to see their pictures and read their stories. I'm getting a better idea of what to expect when Baby Dear comes home. The Beloved and I were talking about it this evening. He expressed more of his concerns. Will he get picked on? Will it be worse or more hurtful than for the average child who gets picked on? Will he even know he's being ridiculed? Will he be able to have a job a little more meaningful than the Wal-Mart greeter or a bag boy? I have to admit that I've wondered this very thing myself. Then he voiced the concern that nearly broke my heart. "Will he ever know the love of a woman?" I have read several accounts of people with Down syndrome getting married so I pulled up a few from the net so he could read them. Of one of the couples, the young man is actually an accomplished concert pianist, but he also plays several other instruments quite well. He and his wife live independently. After The Beloved read the info on the net he sat back and said, "We'll just have to work hard to make sure he gets all the therapies you've been telling me about and help him to live as normally as possible."
I'm still seeing the doctor every week and having NSTs every Tuesday and Friday. And I've had to do another 24 hour pee test. It's cumbersome to haul those two giant bottles into the lab, but the worst part is having to remember to pee in the cup in the middle of the night, and then have to transfer it to the container instead of just
And I do mean lumbering. I have had to resort to a step stool on my side of the bed. Okay, so the bed is a full 38" off the ground, but before I got pregnant and gained 50 gallons of fluid, I could take a running jump from the doorway and still land in safety. And yes, I have actually done that running jump thing. On occasion. Now I can't climb into my own bed without the step stool and if I attempt getting in on The Beloved's side of the bed, that quite gracefully involves his hands on either side of my broad expanse of butt to hoist me up. Really makes a gal feel pretty! Especially when The Beloved takes a few steps back after I land just in case that tremor and rumbling sound is a precursor to the bed falling down. Yeah, I feel pretty!
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Lions, Tigers & Bears
The Girlie has lovingly ensconced her stuffed animals into each set of equipment. There's a doll in the swing, a bear in the bouncer, a puppy in the stroller, and another bear in the car seat. I'm surprised she hasn't yet wrapped up a dolly to put in the crib! And the cradle too! She's really having fun with this business of preparing for her New Little Brother. Sweet girl. The Boy-O often brings me a book that he says he wants The Baby to have. So, I send him down the hall to find a good spot for it on the book shelves. He's preparing too!
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Bad Dreams
With so much tumbling around in my head, I don't know where to begin! Keep reading and you may contact the local authorities in my area to send over the men in the little white suits! I had a nasty dream a few days ago. I'm used to the very odd and bizarre dreams of pregnancy, but this was over the top, and I think it was rather telling. The kids and I were at a BBQ somewhere. All three kids. Jack was a platinum blonde toddler - no I did NOT get to see his face! There was a little blonde girl about six years old, and an old man, and they were yelling at Jack. The old man was a morph between one friend's dad and another friend's dad. They were yelling "Sit!" to Jack and pointing to the dirt ground like you'd do to an errant dog you hated. Everyone turned to stare. There was such hatred and venom in the little girl and the old man. I reared up into my mother bear and stormed the man, backing him into a wall. I demanded to know was he going to play nice and treat ALL of my children like human beings, not animals. I was acutely aware of the fear rolling off of Jack and a scared mewing sound coming from him. The Girlie and My Boy-O surrounded him in their arms. The old man was scared and backing away from me but I stayed with him, towering over him. In what can only be the wonderful magic of dream graphics, his thin wispy hair was flowing over his balding head and his jowly cheeks were flapping in the wind caused by the force of my words! Neither of my friends dads are bald, but there it is. I woke up after demanding "Answer me old man!" Quite a nasty dream, straight out of the "Pit of Fears." I think the old man was a morph between my friends dad's because in real life, if you make eye contact with either of them, you are filled with loathing and horror and go take a long hot shower in a hopeless attempt to feel clean again. Okay, so that's dramatic, but they both have still, cold, dead, reptilian eyes. Shudder. I was glad to wake from that nightmare.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
27 Weeks, Closets, Baby Gear
Tomorrow starts my 27th week. This is officially the last day of my second trimester and I'll start the third tomorrow! I'm still trying to adjust to the fact that I'm pregnant and now I realize that Baby Dear will be here before I know it. In my arms at last. It's also my Dearly Missed Mother's birthday. She would would have been, should have been, 77 years old. I miss her terribly, but I'd like to think she'd be happy with the life I have, with my career, with My Beloved, with the Littles, and I know she'd be supportive with The Newest. Dang, we need to name this kid! We have discussed the name Kenneth. The Girlie hates it - vetoed it immediately. The Middle is still pushing for a name one letter away from his. I vetoed that for obvious reasons! I already get their names confused as it is, and I often have to resort to "You! The one I'm yelling at!" And while The Beloved and I liked the name Kenneth in the evening, by morning he wasn't so sure anymore, and I have to admit that after kicking the name around a bit, I am not so keen on it anymore either.
Miss Susie helped me hang the brackets in the nursery closet. And then we installed the closet bar. That turned out to be another hammer-whacked-knuckle, freshly-applied-paint scraping event laced with much cussing. Again, on my part. But I did manage to avoid injuring Miss Susie with anything this time. The girl knows how to duck and she learns fast! Then we removed the closet bar when I realized it would have to come out in order to install the shelf above the closet bar. And that was accomplished with more knuckle whacking, paint scraping and requisite cussing. And then we re-installed the closet bar. And we put in a shelf about 3' from the closet floor to eventually hold bins of toys on top and below. We'd already figured out how to best install the shelf based on the aforementioned shelf. But this time it was only three feet off the floor and the shelf had to be clipped into the brackets from underneath. There is no comfortable position to either bend or squat when your midsection is the size of Jupiter and your butt is the size of - well, let's not go there. My girth prevented being able to hold the shelf because both the shelf and I would not fit in that closet, even with the doors removed and still be able to hold the shelf flat. So, Susie held from above while I crab-crawled on my side, absolutely unable to lay on my back and still be able to breath, to clip the shelf into the bracket. When we were finally finished we stood back to admire our handy work. I'm pretty sure I heard Miss Susie mutter an expletive under her breath. Okay, so she said it out loud. I've been a bad influence on her.
While The Middle napped, we left Miss Susie in charge and My Girlie and I went out to buy baby gear. I thought it would be a good to celebrate my Mother's birthday by doing something fun with My Own Girlie because I know she would have loved her so much. We had to go to several different stores, but we found the Winnie the Pooh swing at one store and the matching car seat/stroller combo at another. Then we went to yet another to buy a matching bouncy seat with a gift card we'd received from neighbors! It was tiring driving all over town, but it was a fun trip and it was nice to spend some time with just The Girlie and I. She was especially delighted when I headed toward the baby clothing section. I have the oddest feeling that I just can't get over. I keep thinking we will miss our baby shower. So...we'd better have some clothing! Between the two of us we picked out 9 sleepers and outfits and another pack of tiny white socks! My Little Girlie was thrilled to be part of the baby clothes selection process!
Miss Susie helped me hang the brackets in the nursery closet. And then we installed the closet bar. That turned out to be another hammer-whacked-knuckle, freshly-applied-paint scraping event laced with much cussing. Again, on my part. But I did manage to avoid injuring Miss Susie with anything this time. The girl knows how to duck and she learns fast! Then we removed the closet bar when I realized it would have to come out in order to install the shelf above the closet bar. And that was accomplished with more knuckle whacking, paint scraping and requisite cussing. And then we re-installed the closet bar. And we put in a shelf about 3' from the closet floor to eventually hold bins of toys on top and below. We'd already figured out how to best install the shelf based on the aforementioned shelf. But this time it was only three feet off the floor and the shelf had to be clipped into the brackets from underneath. There is no comfortable position to either bend or squat when your midsection is the size of Jupiter and your butt is the size of - well, let's not go there. My girth prevented being able to hold the shelf because both the shelf and I would not fit in that closet, even with the doors removed and still be able to hold the shelf flat. So, Susie held from above while I crab-crawled on my side, absolutely unable to lay on my back and still be able to breath, to clip the shelf into the bracket. When we were finally finished we stood back to admire our handy work. I'm pretty sure I heard Miss Susie mutter an expletive under her breath. Okay, so she said it out loud. I've been a bad influence on her.
While The Middle napped, we left Miss Susie in charge and My Girlie and I went out to buy baby gear. I thought it would be a good to celebrate my Mother's birthday by doing something fun with My Own Girlie because I know she would have loved her so much. We had to go to several different stores, but we found the Winnie the Pooh swing at one store and the matching car seat/stroller combo at another. Then we went to yet another to buy a matching bouncy seat with a gift card we'd received from neighbors! It was tiring driving all over town, but it was a fun trip and it was nice to spend some time with just The Girlie and I. She was especially delighted when I headed toward the baby clothing section. I have the oddest feeling that I just can't get over. I keep thinking we will miss our baby shower. So...we'd better have some clothing! Between the two of us we picked out 9 sleepers and outfits and another pack of tiny white socks! My Little Girlie was thrilled to be part of the baby clothes selection process!
Thursday, September 3, 2009
PHC, NST and Curtains!
So yesterday I went to the PNC for my regular check up. Again with the BP and the rechecks. Eeesh. Saw the doctor. No new orders, except that now I will be seen every week until I deliver, in addition to the twice weekly NSTs.
I spent the late morning sewing curtains for the Jackster's room. When The Littles got home from school we took another stroll along the dresser under the window to measure, mark and drill and hang the curtain rods. The Kidlets were a little grumpy that I had to iron all three panels before I hung them, but they were really tickled when they got to hold the ends while I threaded the curtains onto the rods. And of course, The Girlie maintained her position glued to my butt in case I might fall, while The Middle kept the look of distress pasted to his face in anticipation of me falling! News Alert: Woman safely disembarks from 2' dresser without injury. Film at 11!
And today I took my forth trip to the PNC for our twice weekly NST. All was well! Baby Boy wiggled away, the tech adjusted our straps, Baby Boy wiggled away, the tech adjusted our straps, Baby Boy wiggled away...
I spent the late morning sewing curtains for the Jackster's room. When The Littles got home from school we took another stroll along the dresser under the window to measure, mark and drill and hang the curtain rods. The Kidlets were a little grumpy that I had to iron all three panels before I hung them, but they were really tickled when they got to hold the ends while I threaded the curtains onto the rods. And of course, The Girlie maintained her position glued to my butt in case I might fall, while The Middle kept the look of distress pasted to his face in anticipation of me falling! News Alert: Woman safely disembarks from 2' dresser without injury. Film at 11!
And today I took my forth trip to the PNC for our twice weekly NST. All was well! Baby Boy wiggled away, the tech adjusted our straps, Baby Boy wiggled away, the tech adjusted our straps, Baby Boy wiggled away...
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Cradle Linens
I started my day bright and early at the PHC for my Tuesday NST. Everything looked good and I actually fell asleep sitting there listening to Jacks little heart thumping away.
I went back to see the endocrinologist in the afternoon to review my labs and get another insulin adjustment. This time he says I don't need to come back for a month unless I see my blood sugars trending up. He said to call if they trend up and that I can increase both types of insulin by one unit until I can be seen. He said he wouldn't be so liberal with anyone else, but since I'd already indicated on my graphs which days I'd adjusted my dose independently, with good results, he was confidant that I'd keep my numbers in a tight range. He only wanted to see me sooner if I couldn't keep them under certain levels and needed help. I wasn't sure if I should be flattered by his confidence in me or neglected!
Once home I took a nap and then spent the evening measuring and cutting and pinning and sewing while I waited for The Dear Daddy to get home. The fabric I'd found while cleaning out the garage was big enough to make 6" bumpers, two sheets and a quilt for the cradle! I was pretty happy when I got it all in the cradle and stood back to admire it! Now our Little Bunny Boy will have a place to sleep in our room!
I went back to see the endocrinologist in the afternoon to review my labs and get another insulin adjustment. This time he says I don't need to come back for a month unless I see my blood sugars trending up. He said to call if they trend up and that I can increase both types of insulin by one unit until I can be seen. He said he wouldn't be so liberal with anyone else, but since I'd already indicated on my graphs which days I'd adjusted my dose independently, with good results, he was confidant that I'd keep my numbers in a tight range. He only wanted to see me sooner if I couldn't keep them under certain levels and needed help. I wasn't sure if I should be flattered by his confidence in me or neglected!
Once home I took a nap and then spent the evening measuring and cutting and pinning and sewing while I waited for The Dear Daddy to get home. The fabric I'd found while cleaning out the garage was big enough to make 6" bumpers, two sheets and a quilt for the cradle! I was pretty happy when I got it all in the cradle and stood back to admire it! Now our Little Bunny Boy will have a place to sleep in our room!
Monday, August 31, 2009
Declarations of Love
The last time My Love comforted me through a painful discussion, he said he knew I would be able to love this child. Tonight, quite unsolicited, he said he would love the baby too. He has refused to watch or read any of the information I've gathered, but he is accepting of The Littles learning to sign. Later he was holding me and rocking me back and forth and said he'd never be able to convince me of how deep his love was for me. He asked again, "How are we going to get through this?" I said simply, "Together."
Earlier today: Every time My Girlie catches me weepy she says the same thing, "Mommy (she never calls me Mommy except for these times, and only since Jack) I'm sorry Jack's going to have Down syndrome, but we'll all be okay. Jack will be loved. He already is!" She doesn't understand the hormones of pregnancy, that I might be weepy because I'm hungry and nauseated, or worried, or that it might be because it's Tuesday! She's always so quick to throw her arms around me and Jack, ready to comfort!
Earlier today: Every time My Girlie catches me weepy she says the same thing, "Mommy (she never calls me Mommy except for these times, and only since Jack) I'm sorry Jack's going to have Down syndrome, but we'll all be okay. Jack will be loved. He already is!" She doesn't understand the hormones of pregnancy, that I might be weepy because I'm hungry and nauseated, or worried, or that it might be because it's Tuesday! She's always so quick to throw her arms around me and Jack, ready to comfort!
Friday, August 28, 2009
Endo & Our First NST
Yesterday I went to see the endocrinologist, and as always, I sat there from 1:15 until 4:45. Once again, I was the last appointment. He reviewed my labs, stuck my finger, reviewed my blood sugars and increased both of my insulins. And of course he ordered more labs! I've never felt like such a pincushion!
Today was a little more fun. We had our first Non-Stress Test, Jack and I. I am 25 weeks and 4 days along today. Basically I check in, go pee in a cup and then sit there and wait. Then they call me in, check my blood pressure, tell me it's too high, poke little dents into my feet, legs and thighs, weigh me, check my blood pressure again, tell me it's still too high, check my pee, check my blood pressure again and tell me it's still too high, then check my blood sugar and tell me that that is just fine. They review my meds and send me back out to wait. So I wait, and then they call me back and Jack and I get pink and blue straps wrapped around us with some gel. We sit in a comfy chair with 'our' feet up, the NST tech pokes little dents into my feet, legs and thighs, then she checks my blood pressure and clucks her tongue. Guess why? My blood pressure is too high! So I sit there for 30 minutes with my feet up listening to the rhythmic thunk-thunk-thunk of Jack's heart until he moves away and the tech repositions the straps. Fifteen minutes in she asks, "Is he always this active?" as she repositions the straps for the sixth time! The tech checks to see that Jack's heart beat is increasing when I push the button to indicate that I've felt movement and then after 30 minutes she pulls the whole strip off and goes to show the doctor. He checks it and signs it and the tech comes back to tell me I can go. Then we struggle for 20 minutes trying to lever my bloated semi reclining body out of the comfy chair. Eventually they call the fire department, walls get ripped out, heavy equipment gets called in, the channel 4 News van arrives, a flatbed truck pulls into the lot...
Today was a little more fun. We had our first Non-Stress Test, Jack and I. I am 25 weeks and 4 days along today. Basically I check in, go pee in a cup and then sit there and wait. Then they call me in, check my blood pressure, tell me it's too high, poke little dents into my feet, legs and thighs, weigh me, check my blood pressure again, tell me it's still too high, check my pee, check my blood pressure again and tell me it's still too high, then check my blood sugar and tell me that that is just fine. They review my meds and send me back out to wait. So I wait, and then they call me back and Jack and I get pink and blue straps wrapped around us with some gel. We sit in a comfy chair with 'our' feet up, the NST tech pokes little dents into my feet, legs and thighs, then she checks my blood pressure and clucks her tongue. Guess why? My blood pressure is too high! So I sit there for 30 minutes with my feet up listening to the rhythmic thunk-thunk-thunk of Jack's heart until he moves away and the tech repositions the straps. Fifteen minutes in she asks, "Is he always this active?" as she repositions the straps for the sixth time! The tech checks to see that Jack's heart beat is increasing when I push the button to indicate that I've felt movement and then after 30 minutes she pulls the whole strip off and goes to show the doctor. He checks it and signs it and the tech comes back to tell me I can go. Then we struggle for 20 minutes trying to lever my bloated semi reclining body out of the comfy chair. Eventually they call the fire department, walls get ripped out, heavy equipment gets called in, the channel 4 News van arrives, a flatbed truck pulls into the lot...
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
What Have We Gotten Ourselves Into?
The Beloved and I were sitting on the couch relaxing when it seemed to him to be a good time for some discussion. Not so much for me, but I have to take it when I can. He's still of the view that I decided to "do this" without any say so from him, so he just has to deal with it. "I know you and the kids are all excited about this so I just have to go along with it," he said calmly. I said "Yes, the kids are excited, but me - not so much." It had already been a long full day of beating myself up about this Ds diagnosis, and I just wasn't feeling up to the task of another baby with challenges. I'd spent the entire day playing the "What If" game where you question everything you ever did, said, thought, or thought of doing right up until the diagnosis.
But since he was willing to listen, and I had his attention by saying that I wasn't all that excited, I decided to make it count. I told him I was terrified of this baby. I said that since our other two already had special needs, it seemed monumental to me to have another one with special needs. I said I didn't feel up to it. That even if the other two were normal (starting to hate that word) I just didn't think I could rise to the challenge. I admitted that I am already too tired to take on the whole medical arena as it is, and there is a trend to brush aside babies with Down syndrome because they are viewed as worth less effort than typical babies. I said I was afraid that Our Baby would be brushed aside when he needed something. And would I even know what he needed?
And I admitted that I had come to detest seeing babies out in public. Normal babies. Because Ours would not be. And it hurt. And there was nothing I could do about it. And for all of my pleas to God, he'd decided Our baby was good as is. He said, "Well, the decision has already been made. You'll just have to do what you have to to make sure he has everything he needs." By now I was sobbing into my hands in a pool of snot. True to his normal self, he came over and folded me up in his strong arms and held me against his broad chest. "I'm getting snot all over you" I sniffled. He said he didn't care and went on to say all manner of kind and comforting things. He would not have comforted me just because decorum required it, and he has never been one to say things he doesn't mean. "I told you before that you are the strong one," he says into my hair. He has said that to me before, right after my stroke just 9 months ago, but it's simply not true!
I am NOT the strong one. He's always been the stronger one, the sensible one, the one I go to when I don't know what to do, the one who always has the right answer, and if not the answer, at least a good plan. So, after much rocking and swaying and comforting, all seemed well. Or at least better.
But since he was willing to listen, and I had his attention by saying that I wasn't all that excited, I decided to make it count. I told him I was terrified of this baby. I said that since our other two already had special needs, it seemed monumental to me to have another one with special needs. I said I didn't feel up to it. That even if the other two were normal (starting to hate that word) I just didn't think I could rise to the challenge. I admitted that I am already too tired to take on the whole medical arena as it is, and there is a trend to brush aside babies with Down syndrome because they are viewed as worth less effort than typical babies. I said I was afraid that Our Baby would be brushed aside when he needed something. And would I even know what he needed?
And I admitted that I had come to detest seeing babies out in public. Normal babies. Because Ours would not be. And it hurt. And there was nothing I could do about it. And for all of my pleas to God, he'd decided Our baby was good as is. He said, "Well, the decision has already been made. You'll just have to do what you have to to make sure he has everything he needs." By now I was sobbing into my hands in a pool of snot. True to his normal self, he came over and folded me up in his strong arms and held me against his broad chest. "I'm getting snot all over you" I sniffled. He said he didn't care and went on to say all manner of kind and comforting things. He would not have comforted me just because decorum required it, and he has never been one to say things he doesn't mean. "I told you before that you are the strong one," he says into my hair. He has said that to me before, right after my stroke just 9 months ago, but it's simply not true!
I am NOT the strong one. He's always been the stronger one, the sensible one, the one I go to when I don't know what to do, the one who always has the right answer, and if not the answer, at least a good plan. So, after much rocking and swaying and comforting, all seemed well. Or at least better.
Monday, August 24, 2009
25 Weeks, Shopping & Missouri Barbecue
Today My Girlie and I went to meet My Big Sis at Babies R Us! It was so much fun! I finally felt free to buy a few things that we'll need. The nagging whispers are still there somewhere, but they are getting quieter and less upsetting. And it was really good to get to spend some time with My Big Sis! The Girlie, The Big Sis and I wandered over every inch of the store. It was really fun to watch My Girlie marvel over how tiny the baby clothes are. Of course she wanted to buy two of everything and had it been up to her we would have needed a moving van to transport the loot!
As it was, I'd already been going over my selections to make sure that I wasn't buying anything frivolous, that it was all stuff Jack would genuinely need. It really kinda sucks trying to outfit a new nursery while not earning my share of our usual household income and I'd had to tell The Girlie too many times that we couldn't get this or that yet because we couldn't quite afford it right now. Maybe later, I'd say. The solution was to let her choose between a selection of things I'd picked out. She made the final selection of bath towels and wash cloths, receiving blankets, crib sheets, this baby wash or that one? The tiny blue hair brush or the white one with bunnies on it? She even made a very deliberate decision of which water proof crib pads to buy: embossed stripes with a soft flannel top or embossed sheep which turned out to feel softer than the flannel? Sheep of course! Soft sheep! When we got to the register, My Big Sis emptied half of my loot onto the counter and while I was gobsmacked by a pyramid giant boxes of diapers, she paid for it before I even realized what she was doing! What a wonderful blessing! Soooo...we added two of the huge boxes of diapers to my loot. And I mean huge! These puppies have 264 diapers each!
A big THANK YOU to My Big Sis! Even more than the generosity of her incredible gift, it was an affirmation for me that Our New Little Baby is anticipated, will be celebrated, will be welcomed into loving arms just like any other baby. He has Down syndrome. And he is already as loved as he can be! I love you Sis!
After Babies R Us we hit a clothing shop to buy a few outfits for the Wee One. And then we went to my favorite barbecue place for a relaxing sit, happy chit chat, and the most awesome Missouri barbecued ham and beef sandwiches to be served on famous garlic toast ever! They are that good. Very little can compare to the sheer bliss that can be had when a pregnant woman gets to eat what she craves! A collective happy sigh went out at our table as we wrapped up a wonderful morning and afternoon with My Big Sis and My Girlie!
We arrived home from the valley just in time to welcome The Dear Daddy from his day at work. I surprised him with a yummy meal brought home from the restaurant - it's his favorite too! We had a relaxing evening and The Littles were happy and getting ready to settle into their beds with good night kisses and hugs and movies. The Dear Daddy always spends some time with each of them before they get their final tuck-in for the night. He was coming out of spending time with them when for some reason I fell apart.
We'd passed in the hall and I was fine, but when he reached for me I fell into his arms sobbing. Maybe I was over tired from our long day. I was certainly hormonal. Maybe it was the renewed tenderness between us. Maybe it was that my body just felt so awful all the time. Maybe it was simply that I was worn out from worrying and feeling constant dread. Maybe it was all of that. But we sat, we held each other, I sobbed and he listened. He stroked my back while I spilled my fears. He retrieved Kleenex for me when snot threatened to take over. He got a basin for me when I nearly brought up my lunch. He got me water. He'd heard me before, but I think he really understood exactly what I'd meant when I'd said that I also felt that I'd had no choice but to keep the baby. I also said that it was wearing me down to feel torn between the two of them. He held me and rocked me while I described the tormented feelings I'd been having, the fear that I wouldn't bond with the baby, the absolute terror that he would have birth defects requiring surgery. That we might still lose him yet. He listened to all of it.
Later when we were cleaning up the dinner mess he put his arms around me and swayed with me with his face in my hair. "How are we going to get through all of this?" I said we'd have to take it as it came. We stood that way for a long time. He said "we."
As it was, I'd already been going over my selections to make sure that I wasn't buying anything frivolous, that it was all stuff Jack would genuinely need. It really kinda sucks trying to outfit a new nursery while not earning my share of our usual household income and I'd had to tell The Girlie too many times that we couldn't get this or that yet because we couldn't quite afford it right now. Maybe later, I'd say. The solution was to let her choose between a selection of things I'd picked out. She made the final selection of bath towels and wash cloths, receiving blankets, crib sheets, this baby wash or that one? The tiny blue hair brush or the white one with bunnies on it? She even made a very deliberate decision of which water proof crib pads to buy: embossed stripes with a soft flannel top or embossed sheep which turned out to feel softer than the flannel? Sheep of course! Soft sheep! When we got to the register, My Big Sis emptied half of my loot onto the counter and while I was gobsmacked by a pyramid giant boxes of diapers, she paid for it before I even realized what she was doing! What a wonderful blessing! Soooo...we added two of the huge boxes of diapers to my loot. And I mean huge! These puppies have 264 diapers each!
A big THANK YOU to My Big Sis! Even more than the generosity of her incredible gift, it was an affirmation for me that Our New Little Baby is anticipated, will be celebrated, will be welcomed into loving arms just like any other baby. He has Down syndrome. And he is already as loved as he can be! I love you Sis!
After Babies R Us we hit a clothing shop to buy a few outfits for the Wee One. And then we went to my favorite barbecue place for a relaxing sit, happy chit chat, and the most awesome Missouri barbecued ham and beef sandwiches to be served on famous garlic toast ever! They are that good. Very little can compare to the sheer bliss that can be had when a pregnant woman gets to eat what she craves! A collective happy sigh went out at our table as we wrapped up a wonderful morning and afternoon with My Big Sis and My Girlie!
We arrived home from the valley just in time to welcome The Dear Daddy from his day at work. I surprised him with a yummy meal brought home from the restaurant - it's his favorite too! We had a relaxing evening and The Littles were happy and getting ready to settle into their beds with good night kisses and hugs and movies. The Dear Daddy always spends some time with each of them before they get their final tuck-in for the night. He was coming out of spending time with them when for some reason I fell apart.
We'd passed in the hall and I was fine, but when he reached for me I fell into his arms sobbing. Maybe I was over tired from our long day. I was certainly hormonal. Maybe it was the renewed tenderness between us. Maybe it was that my body just felt so awful all the time. Maybe it was simply that I was worn out from worrying and feeling constant dread. Maybe it was all of that. But we sat, we held each other, I sobbed and he listened. He stroked my back while I spilled my fears. He retrieved Kleenex for me when snot threatened to take over. He got a basin for me when I nearly brought up my lunch. He got me water. He'd heard me before, but I think he really understood exactly what I'd meant when I'd said that I also felt that I'd had no choice but to keep the baby. I also said that it was wearing me down to feel torn between the two of them. He held me and rocked me while I described the tormented feelings I'd been having, the fear that I wouldn't bond with the baby, the absolute terror that he would have birth defects requiring surgery. That we might still lose him yet. He listened to all of it.
Later when we were cleaning up the dinner mess he put his arms around me and swayed with me with his face in my hair. "How are we going to get through all of this?" I said we'd have to take it as it came. We stood that way for a long time. He said "we."
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Window Treatments
Since when did hanging a curtain, drape, shade or louvers in a window become a "treatment?" Had the treated window been ill? Was it well now? Would it relapse if said treatment were removed? And what if the treatment gets dusty? Will the window get allergies? These are tough questions. I don't have the answers. I'm going to be awake all night worrying about this. Crap!
I've always done double duty window treatments for our children's rooms. Louvers provide an extra layer of a noise barrier. One of the first things I noticed when we moved into our new home is that everyone here has a gardener. Everyone. And there appears to be a city ordinance that no two lawns on a single street may be mowed at the same time, or on the same day. My neighbor on the right is on Tuesdays. My neighbor on the left, Thursdays. My neighbors across the street are Monday, and the two story house across the street is Wednesday. Every Wednesday. The two story behind me is Thursday, but late in the afternoon. The two story to the right of them, and closest to our bedroom also has the gardener every week on Saturdays...first for the front, then for the back. And the two story two over to the right, well I don't know when theirs comes because their yappy little dog never shuts up! Never. I know all of this because I am a night nurse and therefore a day sleeper. It was wasn't long before I'd invested heavily in 38 decibel earplugs and white noise. We only see our gardener when ever he feels like showing up!
Double window coverings also provide a filter for bright sunlight for little people who need to nap during the day. And they are a blessing to those same little peoples' Moms who get very crabby when the little people don't nap! So, I took Our Littles to Lowes again to buy louvers. Say that three times fast! And The Littles and I walked along the low dresser under the window to be treated and measured and marked and drilled. This was really quite an accomplishment when you consider the fact that every step I took was accompanied by The Oldest maintaining a death grip on my hiney should I fall, and The Youngest looking like I might at any minute actually fall. Good grief! But we got them hung and The Youngest was really happy because he'd finally gotten to help with something in the Baby's room! Now all I have to do to finish treating the window is to find a suitably cute fabric the match the paint, carpet and furniture! Then the window will feel much better!
I've always done double duty window treatments for our children's rooms. Louvers provide an extra layer of a noise barrier. One of the first things I noticed when we moved into our new home is that everyone here has a gardener. Everyone. And there appears to be a city ordinance that no two lawns on a single street may be mowed at the same time, or on the same day. My neighbor on the right is on Tuesdays. My neighbor on the left, Thursdays. My neighbors across the street are Monday, and the two story house across the street is Wednesday. Every Wednesday. The two story behind me is Thursday, but late in the afternoon. The two story to the right of them, and closest to our bedroom also has the gardener every week on Saturdays...first for the front, then for the back. And the two story two over to the right, well I don't know when theirs comes because their yappy little dog never shuts up! Never. I know all of this because I am a night nurse and therefore a day sleeper. It was wasn't long before I'd invested heavily in 38 decibel earplugs and white noise. We only see our gardener when ever he feels like showing up!
Double window coverings also provide a filter for bright sunlight for little people who need to nap during the day. And they are a blessing to those same little peoples' Moms who get very crabby when the little people don't nap! So, I took Our Littles to Lowes again to buy louvers. Say that three times fast! And The Littles and I walked along the low dresser under the window to be treated and measured and marked and drilled. This was really quite an accomplishment when you consider the fact that every step I took was accompanied by The Oldest maintaining a death grip on my hiney should I fall, and The Youngest looking like I might at any minute actually fall. Good grief! But we got them hung and The Youngest was really happy because he'd finally gotten to help with something in the Baby's room! Now all I have to do to finish treating the window is to find a suitably cute fabric the match the paint, carpet and furniture! Then the window will feel much better!
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Oh the Vomit
Last week, day 6 of the new school year, The Monster got suspended. That was last Tuesday. So, he was home all day Wednesday. The Young Miss had to be picked up Monday for nausea and then she missed the next day for nausea and the next day for a sore throat. The bus picked up The Monster on Thursday, but I found out that he also had a one day bus suspension for his behavior Tuesday, effective on Friday. Eeeek! He's off to a great start. At least this past week has gone well. He's brought home little green notes all week that say "Excellent!"
This morning after I waved goodbye to the kids' buses, I hopped into the shower to get ready for my PHC visit. Thirty minutes later I was vomiting into the sink so hard that I peed down my legs and had to get back into the shower. Not only was I pukey sick, and feeling miserable from that, but I was also so upset that I'd wet myself that I sat down on the floor and had a good cry. In my own pee. A pee puddle. Okay so it wasn't a puddle, but my cute new white belly shorts were ruined for the day, so I might as well take off the cute blue and white floral top that I felt pretty in. It's not bad enough that I was pukey!
This morning after I waved goodbye to the kids' buses, I hopped into the shower to get ready for my PHC visit. Thirty minutes later I was vomiting into the sink so hard that I peed down my legs and had to get back into the shower. Not only was I pukey sick, and feeling miserable from that, but I was also so upset that I'd wet myself that I sat down on the floor and had a good cry. In my own pee. A pee puddle. Okay so it wasn't a puddle, but my cute new white belly shorts were ruined for the day, so I might as well take off the cute blue and white floral top that I felt pretty in. It's not bad enough that I was pukey!
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
24.5 Week Ultra Sound
I saw Dr S for our newest ultra sound. He says Jack is 1 pound and 9 ounces. Dr S started by reminding me that I can no longer abort, but that since he knew I was firm in my decision, we wouldn't discuss it. Then why did he bring it up? He said Jack does not have an echogenic bowel, so more than likely, his bowel is patent and does not have a blockage. The brain ventricles are not worsening in their dilation. Jack does have a mild mitral valve regurgitation, but not so much as to cause a murmur, and it may correct itself during the pregnancy. The great news is that there seems to be no ventricular-septal defect. Jack very clearly has a nasal bone as well, and there is no evidence of hyperhydramnios. Jack was once again very active for the ultra-sound, even bouncing the probe off my belly! Dr S said again that this may well be an indicator that Jack will be high functioning. All good news! The doc gave me several pictures, and even two of the nasal bone and two of his wiener!
Sunday, August 16, 2009
24 Weeks
Well time flies. I have not felt much like keeping track of my journal. I was amazed at how fast the 20th week came around because it seemed to me that I had just logged the 19th week on the calendar and suddenly there was another one down! I'm really struggling hard with the DS diagnosis. I keep reading these bloggers who say they wouldn't change a thing about their DS babies, but I sure as heck would. I want Jack to be healthy and normal. What parent doesn't? Maybe I've moved on to the anger stage.
This coming week I'll see Dr S again and have another look at Jack. I'm sure he's going to remind me that this is my last week to terminate. I don't even want to hear it. My goal now is to keep Jack in there as long as possible so he won't have more health problems. I love little Jack. I just wish the DS was a mistake. It's really put a cloud over the joy of pregnancy.
Since I journaled last I've been back to the endocrinologist. Again I arrived at 1:15 at my appointment time, only to find that I was once again the last patient of the day and I was called in at 4:45. He increased both of my insulins and gave me lee-way to increase another unit of Lispro if need be, which I have. I've also been to the PNC and will continue every two weeks until I deliver. My fundus is above my navel now, and the heartbeat sounded good. Last week I could actually see the baby kicking!
I'm at a stand still on the nursery until we get some extra money. I did buy a Winnie the Pooh crib set, but it's still in the package in case I find something I like better. I bought one water proof mattress pad, and found a suitable color towel to cover the changing pad with. I'll buy more as time goes by. Those changing pad covers get dirty fast. I don't think I will sew them this time though. I think I'll just use safety pins. The elastic was hard to get just right last time, and the folded up product was ungainly and lumpy and took up way too much space. Flat towels will fit much better and will be easier all the way around. I'm seriously considering using pillow cases for the cradle sheets. I'll still have to sew the bumper pads for the cradle, but that should be a small easy project. I even have some spotted fabric and matching ruffled trim that will work nicely with our bedroom decor, is quite baby-ish enough, and isn't overwhelmed by pink. I might even be able to squeeze out enough to make cradle sheets. If not, I'm sure I can find some minty green pillow cases that will match well.
I've been slowly decluttering the front room. That's a huge project. I can't really leave it though, because Jack will come and then we'll need to put up a Christmas tree in that room just two weeks later. I think The Dear Daddy is going to have to do the majority of the the tree buying and set up this year. It would be a good outing for him and the kids. Depending on what date my scheduled C-section is, we might well be celebrating Thanksgiving a week early! If Jack is born the day after Thanksgiving, I can look forward to yummy left overs when we come home from the hopspittle!
The kids have been in school for a week now. The Girlie was accidentally put into a 6th grade class until I discovered the error on Wednesday morning. That was also the first day they'd gotten the bus to school, so she was stressed already about getting on the wrong bus to come home. Poor kid. Then I wound up going to the school at 3:30 to pick them up because the danged bus broke down! I like her new teacher though, and she did not like the other teacher, so it's win-win. And the bus picks them up and drops them off right here at the house! That's going to be extremely convenient. They will be off school for three weeks at Christmas, but only one week and the weekend at Thanksgiving. November is going to be crazy busy. I'll have to get both Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner bought, and all their gifts and Jack's bought and wrapped before I leave for the hopspittle.
The Dear Daddy and I talked a little about names. He doesn't like Jack or Liam or Wyatt. He doesn't have any suggestions of his own yet, but at least he's been behaving like he always has before all of this started. I'm glad he's back. I've missed him. I think that until he processd all of this, he had come to see me as the enemy, but really, I was still his partner all along. I'm glad he's back and ready to resume being My Beloved.
This coming week I'll see Dr S again and have another look at Jack. I'm sure he's going to remind me that this is my last week to terminate. I don't even want to hear it. My goal now is to keep Jack in there as long as possible so he won't have more health problems. I love little Jack. I just wish the DS was a mistake. It's really put a cloud over the joy of pregnancy.
Since I journaled last I've been back to the endocrinologist. Again I arrived at 1:15 at my appointment time, only to find that I was once again the last patient of the day and I was called in at 4:45. He increased both of my insulins and gave me lee-way to increase another unit of Lispro if need be, which I have. I've also been to the PNC and will continue every two weeks until I deliver. My fundus is above my navel now, and the heartbeat sounded good. Last week I could actually see the baby kicking!
I'm at a stand still on the nursery until we get some extra money. I did buy a Winnie the Pooh crib set, but it's still in the package in case I find something I like better. I bought one water proof mattress pad, and found a suitable color towel to cover the changing pad with. I'll buy more as time goes by. Those changing pad covers get dirty fast. I don't think I will sew them this time though. I think I'll just use safety pins. The elastic was hard to get just right last time, and the folded up product was ungainly and lumpy and took up way too much space. Flat towels will fit much better and will be easier all the way around. I'm seriously considering using pillow cases for the cradle sheets. I'll still have to sew the bumper pads for the cradle, but that should be a small easy project. I even have some spotted fabric and matching ruffled trim that will work nicely with our bedroom decor, is quite baby-ish enough, and isn't overwhelmed by pink. I might even be able to squeeze out enough to make cradle sheets. If not, I'm sure I can find some minty green pillow cases that will match well.
I've been slowly decluttering the front room. That's a huge project. I can't really leave it though, because Jack will come and then we'll need to put up a Christmas tree in that room just two weeks later. I think The Dear Daddy is going to have to do the majority of the the tree buying and set up this year. It would be a good outing for him and the kids. Depending on what date my scheduled C-section is, we might well be celebrating Thanksgiving a week early! If Jack is born the day after Thanksgiving, I can look forward to yummy left overs when we come home from the hopspittle!
The kids have been in school for a week now. The Girlie was accidentally put into a 6th grade class until I discovered the error on Wednesday morning. That was also the first day they'd gotten the bus to school, so she was stressed already about getting on the wrong bus to come home. Poor kid. Then I wound up going to the school at 3:30 to pick them up because the danged bus broke down! I like her new teacher though, and she did not like the other teacher, so it's win-win. And the bus picks them up and drops them off right here at the house! That's going to be extremely convenient. They will be off school for three weeks at Christmas, but only one week and the weekend at Thanksgiving. November is going to be crazy busy. I'll have to get both Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner bought, and all their gifts and Jack's bought and wrapped before I leave for the hopspittle.
The Dear Daddy and I talked a little about names. He doesn't like Jack or Liam or Wyatt. He doesn't have any suggestions of his own yet, but at least he's been behaving like he always has before all of this started. I'm glad he's back. I've missed him. I think that until he processd all of this, he had come to see me as the enemy, but really, I was still his partner all along. I'm glad he's back and ready to resume being My Beloved.
Signs
I started doing some simple sign language with The Girlie when she was little...and then it fell by the wayside. I tried to start again when The Boy-O was little, again it fell by the wayside. I've been reading like a fiend anything I can find about how to help The Newest, and signing figures prominently in every article about communication and Ds. I do not believe that children speak less or slower when they are started with signing early. I think it helps them communicate and when they discover that there are spoken words to communicate the same need, their speech often explodes!
So, The Littles and I have spent the day practicing simple signs. The Girlie is picking them up very quickly. Boy-O is only tolerating my instruction because I have insisted! And I do believe The Girlie has a greater memory capacity than I do...I still have to look at a cheat sheet but she calls out the name of the sign before I've finished doing it!
I plan to keep this up this time. The Newest is being born to a grand matron for crying out loud - I have to ingrain those few remaining memory cells before they die off completely, and better that The Baby is the only one learning at that point rather than everyone around him who is supposed to know what he needs! Yes, I'd better get started now...
While I run The Kidlets through five minutes of signing several times each day, I sometimes feel myself step back and ask myself how we got to this place. What are we doing here? My heart is heavy. But hopeful. And it's something I can do for The Newest, rather than just sit back and cry. I would not in a million years have desired to have a genetically 'enhanced' baby. But since The Newest will have extra chromosomes, I am going to do whatever is in my power to make sure he's the best extra-chromosomed person he can be. If spending a little time each day learning signs helps stave off the insanity I feel like I'm precariously dancing around, so much the better. It's at night when I'm laying in bed that I get really fearful.
So, The Littles and I have spent the day practicing simple signs. The Girlie is picking them up very quickly. Boy-O is only tolerating my instruction because I have insisted! And I do believe The Girlie has a greater memory capacity than I do...I still have to look at a cheat sheet but she calls out the name of the sign before I've finished doing it!
I plan to keep this up this time. The Newest is being born to a grand matron for crying out loud - I have to ingrain those few remaining memory cells before they die off completely, and better that The Baby is the only one learning at that point rather than everyone around him who is supposed to know what he needs! Yes, I'd better get started now...
While I run The Kidlets through five minutes of signing several times each day, I sometimes feel myself step back and ask myself how we got to this place. What are we doing here? My heart is heavy. But hopeful. And it's something I can do for The Newest, rather than just sit back and cry. I would not in a million years have desired to have a genetically 'enhanced' baby. But since The Newest will have extra chromosomes, I am going to do whatever is in my power to make sure he's the best extra-chromosomed person he can be. If spending a little time each day learning signs helps stave off the insanity I feel like I'm precariously dancing around, so much the better. It's at night when I'm laying in bed that I get really fearful.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Does She or Doesn't She?
No it's not an old Clairol commercial. I know I've never said to a stranger that Jack has Ds when they have commented on my pregnancy. There was another lady, right behind us in the check out at Costco today. It's still so briefly that I've known about Jack having Ds, I can't believe I was even considering my next move. Her daughter looked to be a teenager, and I kept wondering, does she? And then she smiled at me! And she does! I smiled back and when her mother came closer to me I asked her discreetly if her daughter had Ds. She said yes and I patted my baby bump and said that we were having a baby in November with Ds. A boy. She brightened and said, "It's never dull - it's always an adventure and you're going to be amazed!" She was old enough to be my mother, and the smile she gave me was nothing short of stunningly beautiful. She was happy. Her daughter was happy. And they made me happy!
Sunday, August 2, 2009
22 Weeks and Baby Clothes
Here I am at 22 weeks. The Girlie and I sorted through the baby clothes again and started the fun task of washing, folding and putting them away. It was a fun task, but also a heart tugger. I could easily remember The Girlie when she was tiny wearing some of these things. Since her gender was a surprise, there were plenty of unisex baby items when she arrived. And of course, these same little pieces of baby magic were worn by The-Youngest, Soon-To-Be-Middle and I could easily remember his soft little squishy plump baby body nestled in them as well. Again I wonder will Jack be dark haired and olive eyed like My Girlie or blonde and blue like My Fireball? A combination of the two? Or will his Down syndrome make him look completely different than any of us. From any of us. Only time will tell.
I love him dearly already, but at the same time I am terrified of meeting him. Will I know him? Will he look so foreign to me that I won't be able to bond with him? Will he feel in his first moments of life completely abandoned by the one sacred love every newborn should be guaranteed? Or worse, will he be born with problems that send him to the NICU for weeks or even months of being too fragile for me to stroke his skin and hold him so he can feel my love? Between my fear of him and my fear for him, I am a wreck. I have no delusions that we will all have a challenging time when he arrives. I can easily envision endless doctors appointments, therapy appointments, days on end of constant stimulation of every kind. I feel up to those tasks, the things I have researched, the things I have learned will be crucial for him, the things other parents have described as the most beneficial for babies with Down syndrome. It's the unknown that is tearing me up. Will he need heart surgery within months of birth? Will he need bowel surgery within hours of birth? Will he require life support during his first hours or days...or months. And that awful nagging fear, the worst fear of all...will I know him? I think we will all be fine, but as any mother trying to envision the baby growing within, it is a huge unknown.
Grandma Emmie visited today! The Littles had barely let her get inside the door before dragging her down the hall to the nursery! She was suitably amazed! "Where did you find all this baby furniture? I thought you weren't going to buy anything!" She knew that Bits had loaned us the crib but she hadn't expected it to look so new! And then I pointed out how we'd put other pieces together from my tea room from our first home. She was the voice of enthusiasm as we recalled where those pieces had been located and how perfectly they all went together now for a new purpose. "It really looks like it all goes together! I thought maybe you'd hit a really good bargain sale or something!" My good friend is always a balm to my soul. She never visits without leaving me feeling refreshed, revitalized and renewed. She makes me feel capable. And right now, that simple thing, capable, is vital to my well being.
I love him dearly already, but at the same time I am terrified of meeting him. Will I know him? Will he look so foreign to me that I won't be able to bond with him? Will he feel in his first moments of life completely abandoned by the one sacred love every newborn should be guaranteed? Or worse, will he be born with problems that send him to the NICU for weeks or even months of being too fragile for me to stroke his skin and hold him so he can feel my love? Between my fear of him and my fear for him, I am a wreck. I have no delusions that we will all have a challenging time when he arrives. I can easily envision endless doctors appointments, therapy appointments, days on end of constant stimulation of every kind. I feel up to those tasks, the things I have researched, the things I have learned will be crucial for him, the things other parents have described as the most beneficial for babies with Down syndrome. It's the unknown that is tearing me up. Will he need heart surgery within months of birth? Will he need bowel surgery within hours of birth? Will he require life support during his first hours or days...or months. And that awful nagging fear, the worst fear of all...will I know him? I think we will all be fine, but as any mother trying to envision the baby growing within, it is a huge unknown.
Grandma Emmie visited today! The Littles had barely let her get inside the door before dragging her down the hall to the nursery! She was suitably amazed! "Where did you find all this baby furniture? I thought you weren't going to buy anything!" She knew that Bits had loaned us the crib but she hadn't expected it to look so new! And then I pointed out how we'd put other pieces together from my tea room from our first home. She was the voice of enthusiasm as we recalled where those pieces had been located and how perfectly they all went together now for a new purpose. "It really looks like it all goes together! I thought maybe you'd hit a really good bargain sale or something!" My good friend is always a balm to my soul. She never visits without leaving me feeling refreshed, revitalized and renewed. She makes me feel capable. And right now, that simple thing, capable, is vital to my well being.
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