Julia

The babies are here!

Julie here, posting for Julia.  Two new babies, a boy and a girl!  Julia expects to return home Sunday and will post details soonest.

Eve

I am getting another cold but we are just going to ignore that fact. Otherwise I will cry because if it is half as bad as the cold from which I just recovered I am in for a miserable week. Alas.

Happy Christmas Eve to you, should you celebrate it, and a very pleasant and peaceful evening to those who do not. Although I am never offended to be wished a happy new year in the Fall, I can imagine that an assumption of presumed cultural Christianity might get a bit tedious for people of different faiths. In DC it was simply not done to blithely wish people Merry Christmas or ask how they enjoyed their Easter services. Here people start cocktail party conversations by inquiring what church you go to or, my personal favorite, there was one time when someone specifically asked me which LUTHERAN church I attend. I almost choked on my bourbon. But I digress. I wish you both happy and merry.

Steve is wrapping presents behind me so I am not allowed to turn my head. I would be watching the Monday night game but it is, um... not a lot of parity in this one. I note that there seems to be a Bridezilla marathon in progress which I keep accidentally clicking back to while I type (my new favorite bridal reality show line: "It's my wedding day! I deserve a new pair of shoes!" Can't really argue with that can you? Steve observed, "Sure as long as she gets them for $15 and then uses glue and fake pearls to dress 'em up." This actually made me a little teary. I had forgotten I did that, and was suitably touched that Steve remembered. I was one thrifty bride.)

I have pulled out a few presents for Patrick to take to my friend's house (just in case in case we have to bolt in the middle of the night) but I doubt it will be necessary. I have felt much less like I was teetering on the brink of labor for the past several days. Not sure why but there it is. I got new orders from the OB this morning, which was rather exciting. The nurse called and said that rather than come in for an NST today and then the usual BPP/NST/appointment on Wednesday and Friday my doctor wanted me to 1) stop the Heparin tomorrow [huzzah!] and 2) stop the terbutaline and monitoring on Thursday and they would see me Thursday for an NST. I think the assumption is that we will then have the babies this weekend. MIght not happen that way but we'll see. I'll ask what the logic is before I pull the terbutaline plug but I suspect 13a's continued shrimpiness and my new propensity towards rapid unexplained weight gain and  temporary blindness are contributing factors.

More later.

Solstice

Hi! How are you? I am fine. We had some snow here this morning. It is very pretty. Yep. Definitely going to be a white Christmas in these parts. Steve is holding out hopes that Carolina will be able to beat Dallas tonight (speaking of two cities that will NOT be getting snow for the 25th as far as I know) because a Dallas loss will help the Packers during the Playoffs, but I am just not sanguine.

What?

Why are you... ?

Oh, right. The babies.

The 13s continue to lodge (comfortably, it is to be hoped) where they have been for weeks and weeks: little 13a nestled sweetly between my kneecaps and 13b ("b" for "big head") mixed up with my left lung and other points south. I had an appointment late yesterday and wound up, as per usual, in L&D for a few hours. This time (in an attempt to keep things fresh no doubt) I was vetted for possible preeclampsia, the atypical presentation kind. When I walked from the bathroom into the ultrasound room during my OB appointment, chattering like a squirrel as I do, I suddenly lost my ability to focus and there were five swimming ultrasound tech faces where only one should have been. Not wanting to lose a patient on her watch (who would) she called for backup and after a blood pressure check and a few minutes repose I was fine again. No worries. Later, however, the nurse noticed that I had gained five pounds. Since Tuesday. This seemed excessive by any standards and by the time I saw the doctor I was flushed and felt weird. So they sent me up for blood work and a couple of hours of baby monitoring. Blood work was fine and I started to feel better so I got to home. And here I am.

My most recent goal was 36 weeks but it turns out I am greedy and having achieved this milestone I have now set my sights on 37. What's another seven days? Surely I can stay pregnant for another seven measly days, right? I know I am supposed to be all anxious to get this over with and move on to the next stage, but I am just not. Not only do I think another week will give the babies a nice boost but once they show up I am pretty sure I will no longer be able to lie around on the couch watching Bridezilla every time Steve and Patrick leave the house (that's a secret by the way - I might have started this bed rest reading philosophy and feeling lofty but the situation has deteriorated since then). Speaking of Steve and Patrick, I wanted to murder them last night. They kept me company during my monitoring last night and all I wanted was for Steve to keep the child happy, quiet and contained. All Patrick wanted was to ride the wheeled stool as fast as possible from one side of the room to the other. Who knows what Steve wanted - he turned on the television (ostensibly to find something with which to sedate Patrick) and was instantly sucked into some random college basketball game; and it left him incapable of both speech and reason. I am seriously wondering whether I want either of them to come within a mile of me and a hospital ever again. I think there might be something in the ages old notion that childbirth is a womanly sphere. My nurse walked in, sized up the situation in about a millisecond (slack-jawed father, basketball, whooping child, squeaking stool, white knuckled mother) and promptly sent the Big and the Little down to the cafeteria to get pizza. She then said, "I think I will wait a few minutes before I take your blood pressure."

Ah... women.             

PS If not for the dismaying proximity to Christmas (I think four days after is infinitely preferable to three days before for some reason) and the whole 36 weeks thing, I would be tempted to favor a winter solstice birthday.  Not that anyone is asking me, but I confess that this terbutaline pump conveys the dizzying impression of both power and control. All I'd have to do, see, is pop this grommet out of my leg and... well, let's just say I STRONGLY suspect that labor would follow within a day or so. I might be delusional but it is pleasant to think it.

Nope, Nothing Yet

Another appointment, another night in L&D.

2cm, 90% effaced, 13a at a very solid 0 station, contractions 5-8 minutes apart and needed some breathing through... so they sent me up and kept me for observation.

When the on-call OB came to check on me she asked if I was in labor. "Nope," I said. But by that point I had already taken my underwear off and gotten the gown on so I figured I might as well stay.  Which dovetailed nicely with her intention to keep me. Uncomfortable night in the hospital but it just makes being home all that much nicer in comparison. I have gotten wise in the past few weeks, so I now put two books and a toothbrush in my purse before going within 1000 yards of my OB's office. I actually contemplated watching TV last night (I am running out of books and did not want to squander the ones I had) but some previous occupant had walked off with the remote control. Although the nurse graciously offered to come back and change the channels for me I thought that was probably going above and beyond the call of duty. When I suggested that it was probably easy to accidentally knock the remote into your bag as you were packing up to take the baby home she just looked skeptical. She said they lose more remotes than I could possibly imagine and pointed out that someone had also taken the wooden cross from my room as well. Although I am hardly what one would consider a deeply religious person I admit that I was shocked. Who on earth would STEAL A CROSS? I guess it was seen as some sort of hotel room mini shampoo/birth souvenir but ... STEALING A CROSS? That ain't right.

Anyway, home again and five more hours to 35w5d. How do you like them apples? Right this second I feel like I am about to go into active labor (and will be wrapping this up accordingly) but I felt like that for a couple of hours this morning too. So far my awesome powers of mind-body control have continued to prevail and I think 36 weeks (at least) is a reasonable goal. I am kidding, of course. I am just lucky, plain and simple .

The OB mentioned the strong possibility that the membranes may rupture with A's head so low and whatnot. I have started bringing a towel with me when I move from room to room, a la Hitchhiker's Guide. One could say I am prepared for anything.

Oh and I hope those ultrasounds measurements are seriously skewed, because 13a was estimated to be about 4 pounds yesterday. That, my friends, is the size of a rump roast. 13b was about 5 1/2 . Both sound like they need some fattening up. 

More later. I swear it.

Oh! And we won the pool! My mom asked if I was sharing the pot with Patrick - $190 worth. I said no because I would really rather not have him realize the serious discrepancy in compensation between his weekly allowance ($2) and what a person can earn by gambling. He might never pick up a Lego or put his clothes away again. And if you think Patrick is not capable of googling his way into offshore online casinos you're crazy. Fair to keep all the money for myself? No. Good parenting? You betcha.

PS Ooooof. Contractions.

35w2d

You and me both.

I mean, I also keep thinking I must have gone into labor by now. But no.

Which is good, of course. I feel great apart from all the contractions  and I think another few days or a couple of weeks would be terrific. Still, there is a sense that I cannot quite commit to anything because I truly do not know if I am going to have the babies tonight or tomorrow or after Christmas or what.

Patrick made it to the coin show, much to everyone's relief, but is now sick sick sick. I thought maybe he was getting the last burst of that dreadful cold I had but right now he has a fever and a cough and is generally miserable. I just failed my last contraction monitoring session (they are becoming rather silly. I always have more than six contractions in an hour until I get the third terbutaline bolus) so I am waiting to take another dose and then monitor again. I cannot be on the terbutaline pump without being monitored and it seems pointless to stop the drugs now when I am so close to term and they are working, but the hour-long sessions are getting boring.

Appointment tomorrow. I need to figure out what to do with Patrick, as he is clearly not going to school and Steve usually comes with me for the baby checks. Maybe he will feel well enough to at least come in the car and drop me off? It's hard to get a friend to watch your highly contagious child and I do not even want to ask. We'll see.

Right now Patrick and I are tied with someone else for first place in the football pool and if either team wins tonight with less than 46 combined points we win the week's pool. Win win win. Thank you Houston, Jacksonville and DC - I could not have done it without you.

I'll check in after the appointment. There is always a possibility that I will be admitted to the hospital for good one of these days but I do promise I will let you know. Check REDBOOK, too, because I can write a word document and get Steve to send it from the hospital business center more easily than I can get a typepad post up. But either way I promise to tell you.      

Vite

You know, I was fairly certain the baby stakes were going to be swept by the commenter who said, roughly: girlfriend, those babies are coming in the next 72 hours. Details up at REDBOOK. I'll wait. Yes, I know you don't like the ads and it takes a long time to load and the comment function comes and goes at will and there was the whole infertility diaries brouhaha but... well they are very nice to me and I can only type it up once. So I'll wait.

OK? L&D. 1ish-2ish centimeters dilated. Contractions all over the place. Back home on bed rest. Not sure when this is going to happen. New  goal: one more week, which will bring us to 36 weeks and is sort of amazing when you think about it. 

About the Heparin. I know I said it was lots better than the Lovenox and in a sense this is true, as the needles are painless. However, the actual drug stings and the tiny needles allow it to sort of... lump a bit under the skin. I am afraid there might be no really good way to administer blood thinners. Pity. A chewable tablet like the Flintstones vitamins of my childhood would be nice.

I am absolutely exhausted (how do people manage hospital bed rest? I would be tempted to off myself immediately after throttling the person who asks for a breakfast order at 7 am) but I did want to check in quickly and let you know that I am flirting with labor but there have been no concrete proposals made yet. 

P.M.

Hmmm. I was just about to write that my appointment update is at REDBOOK but I see that it has not posted yet. Oh well, I am sure it will show up tomorrow. The short version is that 13a is of unknown size but looked great, all wiggly and chest-heaving and that the amniotic fluid for A measured just under 10 cm this time. Which is better. So I feel very relieved about that and then I had my NST and... oh my god. Steve is downstairs playing with his new boat (gimme a second) and I am typing this while watching I have no idea what with the sound off...  did I just see Britney Spears advertising her own line of fragrance?  Am I a terrible person for laughing aloud?

Where was I? Oh right. So the babies looked good and I felt better about everything. Then I had an NST and there was considerable speculation as to whether or not I was, at that moment, in active labor. I said no, the nurse said maybe... we kidded back and forth... cervixes were checked - twice... and then I was given the option to go up to L&D or back home again. I chose home. It was briefly exciting, although it cemented for me that I am really not ready emotionally to be done with this pregnancy. When the nurse asked if I was ready to have babies today my response was good lord NO. And I meant that quite literally and wondered when my OB was going to show up; as she and I have been fairly clear in our mutual desire to postpone delivery for as long as possible and by any means necessary. I mean, if it happens if happens but I am hardly going to give up on the toco drugs at this point. Another week or two or three - that's my goal. Let us be honest, 13a is (god willing) fine but s/he looks decidedly shrimpy and the longer s/he stays in the better.

I actually just failed my last monitoring session (ze contractions, zey are persistent these days) so I am sitting here waiting to re-dose and remonitor. For reference. It is amazing to me that seven breathe-breathe, pant-pant, grab the couch contractions in an hour don't give me the slightest suspicion that I might be going into labor or anything. I think I am jaded.

Re. Steve's birthday present. As you may recall, amazon dropped the biscuit so I resorted to best buy. That looked promising for a few days and yet... the damned package never showed up from them either. They had sent an email saying it had shipped overnight with a UPS link and everything, but the UPS link never updated. When I finally called best buy on Thursday (birthday on Saturday) and asked, nicely, what the hell I was told that for some strange reason UPS had received the billing information but not the package. And, regrettably, the earliest they could possibly deliver was now Monday. They credited me the cost of the overnight shipping and sympathized with my frustration. At this point I took it as a sign that I was clearly not to intended to give Steve his damned birthday present on his damned birthday and stopped worrying about it. The present, by the way, was just an xbox 360 and if I wasn't bed-ridden I could have picked it up at about a zillion places within spitting distance. Or if I had realized that it was going to be impossible to get one shipped I could have had a friend... anyway. Water. Bridge. No big deal. Good guess with the Wii, by the way. I wanted to go with the Wii because I thought Patrick and I would have more fun with it, but Steve had his heart set on playing Halo3 when it finally came out and it was HIS birthday after all. The stuff that showed up on time, just to finish the narrative was: Halo 3 for the 360, an extra 360 wireless controller, an extra drive, etc. An entire basket full of items that were completely and utterly useless without the damned console.

Fortunately... well fortunately Steve does not really care. But apart from that, fortunately I had also been planning a surprise dinner party basically from the moment I went on bed rest. And that (apart from the person showing up with the food 15 minutes early and inadvertently switching the surprise moment from a dozen friends shouting Happy Birthday as Steve opened the door to Steve blinking at an older woman who he vaguely remembered from a previous party standing on our front porch burdened with an entire salmon, smoked) went beautifully. The house was fairly tidy, I did silverware roll-ups that morning while hiding in the closet, and I had slowly smuggled bottles of wine up from the basement one by one and secreted them all over the living room and under the couch. There was nothing I could do about the need for wine and champagne and highball glasses but it is always nice to see how creative people are willing to be when it comes to serving themselves liquor. Slightly funny moment: about an hour and a half before the party Steve looked into the silverware drawer and asked me where all the knives had gone. I had not thought about this beforehand and blurted out, "I am using them to weigh something down."

"What?" asked Steve.

"I am using the knives to weigh something down," I repeated.

"Oh."

And he wandered off and I was incredibly relieved because if he had asked me what, exactly, I was weighing down with silverware I don't think I could have told him. Lobster traps? That tapestry I have been working on? Not bloody likely. Surprise parties are so nerve-wracking. But it was fun and everyone cleaned up the kitchen afterwards and as far as I know I did not give anyone the plague while they were here. Except Steve, of course, but that was bound to happen anyway.

Final note, I asked Steve if he would be willing to share his cat literbox containment center and cat doors with you and he said, yes, of course, it's the least he can do after all you have done for us. So I will be taking some pictures and posting that for all you nice cat people. And the dog lovers can have the pleasure of yet again assuring themselves that they would never, ever give house space to a creature that defecates indoors. On purpose.

I give because I love.

PS I think I will have these babies on December 28th and I think they are two boys. Steve thinks the 22nd and a boy and a girl. Any guesses from the gallery?            

PPS Today's appointment was mainly to check on the amniotic fluid levels. They will measure A again on Friday and see how things look. When I say 13a is better off staying in, that is based upon the understanding that the nutrients are getting there and I am not inadvertently starving anyone to death. Obviously if we are still seeing growth issues then we will act accordingly, and be grateful for it.

A.M.

Today is the first day that I feel comfortable saying "I am sick" instead of "I am really, really sick." Worst. Cold. Ever. and it got progressively more awful as the days went on.

But, as I said, today I am just slightly congested, and mostly raspy, and the cough stings but does not burn... things are looking up. Steve, of course, naturally, inevitably, is coming down with it; however, so god help us all. He is not the most stoical of people under the best of circumstances . Just stuff his nose up and watch while he becomes a misery to himself and others. I am TRYING to be sympathetic, honest I am, but he is so much less sick than I am, and so much not extremely pregnant that... well, I do sympathize with the congestion, she says with an attempt at sincerity.

It would be nice if we could both be healthy when we have the 13s but I suppose if it is a choice between the two of us, it is better than I am on the mend. I was trying to imagine going into labor the way I felt on Sunday and my mind boggled. I barely had the energy to adjust the couch pillow every few hours.

Speaking of having the 13s, I am leaving in 6 minutes for my newly added Tuesday appointment. I mentioned this at REDBOOK, or maybe it was here, anyway... 13a is looking sort of small in the general scheme of things and the amniotic fluid is low. Lowish? Lower, certainly. So I am going to get checked this morning and then again on Friday. Needless to say (but I will say it anyway) I am worried. Depending on the fluid levels today the options range from doing nothing to admitting me for infusions (of something, I did not ask) to delivering the babies this week. A veritable smörgåsbord of choices.

Back this afternoon to finish the saga of Steve's birthday boat, how his surprise party went (I threw a party from my couch. surprise!) and... well I'll think of something.

Off to my appointment.

Still Here

I have the worst freaking cold. The right side of my face feels like it has been stuffed with playdough and my nose is all raw and scaly. DIS-gusting. This, of course, follows a conversation I had with a friend on Saturday night that outlined the amazing immunological properties of pregnancy and how nice it was that I had managed to avoid all of Patrick's germy germs. Because naturally it would suck to be sick on top of the myriad little deteriorations I have been experiencing all week: back, hips, breathing, heart, contractions, you name it... it has all gotten worse in the past few days.

I had a nice chat with the good monitoring nurses of Matria... you know what? All hail the monitoring that has kept me from running to L&D every five minutes. Seriously. Other than that one quick trip six days after I was initially admitted - which I think was justified as I had gotten a positive Ffn and therefore very well might have been going into labor; although in retrospect I obviously wasn't - I have been able to stay home and just see my OB every week. Last night, for example, I had about an hour and a half of contractions that had me moaning and leaning over the couch and waving my hand in annoyance (like this) while Steve hovered and said, "What is it? What is it? Are you ok? Should I call the doctor?" Under non-monitored, non-terbutalined circumstances I am sure I would have called and they would have had me come in and it would have been a huge hassle and I would have been just as pregnant this morning as I am. Instead I talked to one of my nurses and was reassured and then I slept horribly in my own bed instead of horribly in the hospital.

Sorry. Excuse the unsolicited endorsement.

The nice chat I had with the nurses last night (apart from the one which helped me to conclude that I was not in actual labor) had to do with the fact that my heart rate is increasing. One of the major side-effects of terbutaline is that it can cause breathlessness and a racing heart. This was quite true in the beginning, but eventually my body adjusted and I have not really noticed anything until this week. In the past few days it has become obvious that the exertion of walking to the powder room can cause me to gasp like a gaffed salmon for ten minutes. When I mentioned this to the nurse and added the fact that my usually low resting pulse was creeping up into the 120-130 range, she said that it was normal with a multiples pregnancy and terbutaline. When I, rather snottily, pointed out that I have been on the damned stuff for 10 weeks and have not had any problems she, more gently, explained that THE BABIES ARE MUCH MUCH BIGGER NOW(jackass) and the DEMANDS ON MY BODY ON INCREASING AS THEY GROW and... anyway, it is uncomfortable but it is normal. And she mentioned a friend of hers in similar circumstances who got closer to term and started trying to get things done and wound up pushing herself? I thought about the few, wee, little things I have been doing around the house on my way to the bathroom - moving a book back to the shelf, picking a Lego off the floor with my toes, putting away all the laundered baby clothes and organizing their closet and bookshelves - and hung my head.

What else?

I switched from Lovenox (blood thinner, once a day) to Heparin (blood thinner, twice a day) and oh what a relief. Lovenox comes in pre-filled syringes with thick needles and stings like a motherfucking adder. Heparin comes in weensy little vials and you have to use your own needles, which means you can ask the nice pharmacist for the smallest gauge they have that will work. I have... 33s. I don't know how to describe how small these needles are... um, they are like a single strand of elfin hair. Thin like a promise. SMALL. The downside is they take forever to load the syringe (drip... drip... drip) but the upside is you could stick one of these things into just about anywhere and not even feel it. VERY nice. So if you have an option to go with Heparin sooner rather than later I urge you to do so.

When amazon sent yet another email saying that they had had another delay with Steve's gift but they hoped that they might be able to deliver the boat by December 6th I canceled the order. And went to best buy. And do you know what best buy and ups assure me is happening this very morning? They assure me that they will be delivering the boat. Unwrapped, unfortunately, and I am not entirely sure if it will show up in a discreet brown wrapper or something that advertises its boatiness but oh well. At least it will be here.

I know there were some questions... what were they? Oh, interior cat doors. Yes the cats use them no problem. We need to keep some doors closed (like the one going down to the basement) but wanted the cats to have free access so Steve made them their own side entrances. Works beautifuly. Steve also, stop me if I have told you this, built a large cat litter box containment center in the garage (um, three feet by seven feet?) which is reached by going through a cubbyhole in the laundry room. One cubby holds boots and the next is actually a hidden cat door. The litterboxes are cleaned (or so Steve tells me) by opening a hinged panel in the center in the garage. A nice way to have the litterboxes out of the house without exposing indoor cats to any hazards. Quite clever, is Steve.

Pregnant photo? Sure. Why not. Patrick took a couple of me the other day. He kept cutting off my head from that flattering four feet tall upwards angle, so he finally climbed on a chair. Then Steve took a picture of me and Patrick. If I can move them over to my laptop I will post them. Try not to look at the eyebrows. Or the overgrown hair. Or the pajamas. Or... well anyway.

Hold on.

I wanted these side by side. Damn it. Oh well.

PS Funny you should ask about the snowstorm/delivery plan, as we suddenly have eight inches on the ground. The hospital at which I will deliver, knock wood providing I can make it to 34+ weeks, is only 15 minutes away and naturally, like all Minnesotans, we have chains on the Miata. I kid. No, of course, like all Minnesotans, we drive... large winter-ready vehicles of heft and all-wheel drivedness. Besides, Steve likes a challenge.