Crampy and cranky

As much as I hated the last month or so of pregnancy, the hiatus from menstruation for fifteen months was fantastic. Not bleeding and feeling crampy for 25% of every month was wonderful.

Unfortunately, my "friend" made a sudden reappearance this week. (Where did we get that euphemism, anyway? What sort of "friend" makes a woman want to grab a weapon and go to the grocery store screaming "give me all your chocolate and no one gets hurt!"?)

The bleeding is annoying, but it's all part of womanhood. The cramping, however... I'm sure "incapacitating" is probably a bit of hyperbole, but I've spent the last two days sitting on the couch with a heating pad. Not only have I been too ill to knit, but the only reason dinner happened at all yesterday was because all I had to do was throw spareribs, tomato sauce, and a can of peaches in the crock pot. Fortunately, the last two days were my "weekend" off from work.

I'm supposed to be at work right now, but as I've been using the Lortab left over from my C-section to keep the pain under control, I called in sick today. I know how short-staffed they are and I hate to make it worse, but if non-narcotic pain killers aren't touching the cramps, I have no business taking care of other people today.

I don't think it's worth adding a new family member, but I'm really starting to get nostalgic about pregnancy and not having a period for at least nine months. Guess it's time to call my sister-in-law and see how the fetal boxing practice is going.

Dumb things to say

Because I'm still having contractions and feeling rather peevish, I'd like to present a list of the top five stupid things that people have said to me since I've gotten pregnant with Shirley, as well as what I wish I'd said in response:

5. [Said by one of the nurses in Kansas as I was making a frantic dash down the corridor to the restroom:] "Is the morning sickness still bothering you?"
[Preceded by retching noises and the spontaneous creation of a large mess in the hall] "No--I always interrupt morning report to sprint to the toilet!"

4. [From one of the nurses at my current employer when the preterm labor started:] "When you go home, put your feet up and have a couple of glasses of wine. If the contractions stop after that, it's not real labor."
"Gee, I could have sworn alcohol was bad during pregnancy for some reason." (For a list of reasons why, look here, here, and here .)

3. [From one of the triage nurses at on a visit for preterm labor:] "You don't have any stretch marks--that's disgusting!"
"Does the fact that I had morning sickness for five months make you feel any better about my body?"

2. [From several close relatives, who shall remain nameless:] "You will call us when Shirley arrives, won't you?"
"No, we thought we'd just send a telegram."

And the award-winner happened at church Sunday night: "Have you had the baby yet?"
"Yeah--we just left a newborn at home by herself for four hours!"
(Although I must admit, I am choosing to be flattered that she apparently didn't think I looked like I still was nine months pregnant.)

waiting

It seems like I've spent a lot of time waiting over the last year. Waiting for the right church to call Brian. Waiting find out if I've gotten a job. Waiting for the strike to be over and some of the tension to die down at work. Waiting for the health insurance to kick in. Waiting for that "magic" 36 week mark to come so I can worry less about my daughter being premature. And of course, waiting for Shirley to come. (Much like I conceptualize Jesus' eventual return, I believe Shirley will come when she "feels like it.")

While I was waiting for bedrest to be over, my amaryllis bloomed. Isn't it pretty? I love the way their petals get that iridescent sheen to them, and I'm glad I managed to capture it on film.

I started the Arisaig cardigan in May with some beautiful laceweight yarn Brian bought me for my birthday. After I woke up one afternoon in August and realized that by the time I got it done, it wouldn't fit around my pregnant belly, I lost interest in it. So I put the sweater-in-progress (who am I kidding? The 3/4 of the back I had knitted) into storage.

(I just love the contrast between the openness of the lace and the ribbing. And this is with it un-blocked!)

Last month, I realized that by the time I got it done, either it would fit me or I'd only have to wait a month or two until it did fit, making it a fantastic project to do on bedrest. Now all I have left to do is finish the last sleeve before I block it and add a button band.

I woke up Tuesday at 0400 with contractions every 3 minutes. They didn't hurt really bad, but not only did they not change after my scheduled dose of anti-contraction meds, but I've never had contractions that frequently before. So I called the doc on call, and they said to get my butt to labor and delivery triage once more.

Where we wasted most of the morning waiting to see if the contractions were going to "do anything" to my cervix, meaning that it was really "real labor" this time. And of course, the answer was no. So we went home again with instructions to drink lots of fluids and follow up with my obstetrician Wednesday.

The doc took me off the anti-contraction drugs and told me "if the baby doesn't come by then, I'll see you next Wednesday." Then she went through the usual speech about if the contractions come so far apart for one hour, it was time to go to the hospital.

I pointed out that this line of thinking had caused me to fruitlessly loiter in L&D the previous day, and if it was all the same to her, I'd prefer to postpone the run to the hospital until the contractions were severe enough that they interfered with my ability to talk, walk, breathe, or otherwise function. (If I'm going to be having contractions no matter what, I'd just as soon make myself comfortable at home rather than be strapped to a monitor in a very uncomfortable hospital bed. When a nice hot shower and some pretty yarn don't do a darn thing to make me feel better, then it's time to call the doc and come on in.)

And after reviewing some other reasons for an immediate trip to the hospital, she agreed that this was reasonable.

And today? I've been having contractions every 5 minutes since about 1900 last night. They're gradually getting more intense, but it's a really slow process. At this rate, they won't meet my criteria for driving to the hospital until after Saturday's baby shower! It's a bit ironic that after waiting all month to be allowed off bedrest, now I'm waiting for "real labor" to happen.

emancipation!

If you've ever wondered when the best time to visit the zoo is, I highly recommend Super Bowl Sunday. It was practically empty!



As the doc said I could get off the bedrest if Shirley and I made it until the 3rd, I took full advantage of her momentary lapse of judgement. On Sunday, I made Brian and his sister Meegan (who graciously flew down from Oregon for several days to "watch my niece bake") take me to the zoo.

Why the zoo? Many reasons. First, I love animals. And the fact that zoos are comparatively cheap places to entertain oneself doesn't hurt anything. But mostly because it was the only place I knew of that has wheelchairs for rent. Since the easiest way to set off contractions is still standing up and walking, I figured it was best to celebrate my liberation from the couch with as little physical activity as possible.

I got to see a real, live polar bear! (Three of them, actually.) I've never been to a zoo that was temperate enough to have a polar bear, so that was a first.


And apparently when anteaters take a bath, they do it just like the rest of us:

The church is throwing me a shower on Saturday. Brian came home from church Sunday evening (we agreed that one outing was enough for the day) bearing many warm greetings from church members, most of which were polite variations on "keep your legs crossed until after the shower!" I'm still having contractions regularly, but there was no change between this exam and the one before it--we'll see what happens!

Triage part II

Shirley's chances of being an only child go up with every trip we make to MPHS' Labor and Delivery triage.

And thank God the health insurance kicked in on the first!

I had regular contractions pretty much all of last week, but they only happened when I was standing or walking. And if the contractions go away if you're lying down, it's not "real labor." (To which I would like to point out that if it's called "false labor," it should NOT cause real pain.) The OB told me she wanted me to stay off my feet as much as possible ("no sex, no vacuuming, no scrubbing the floors." If I don't feel like having sex, what are the chances I'm feeling like doing heavy-duty housework?) and wouldn't let me go back to work until after Shirley arrives.

While the idea of not having to get up at 0500 five days a week does have a certain appeal, the lost income worries me. We've had worse financial crises in the past and God has gotten us through them--but the fact that rent and utilities here equal what my monthly paycheck was in Kansas makes me a bit nervous.

So I spent most of last week laying or sitting on the couch. All went well until church yesterday afternoon, when I started having contractions that didn't go away when I laid down. So off to the hospital for yet another round of baby monitoring, followed by IV fluids and more good drugs to make the contractions stop. (Terbutaline is a very useful and powerful medication. Unfortunately, it also makes me feel as though a gerbil on methamphetamine is running around inside my head.)

And now I'm officially on bed rest (I can get up to the bathroom, and take a quick shower, but other than that I'm expected to be laying down. Good thing this couch is well-padded--I would have hated to do this on our last one!) until Shirley shows up. The doc also put me on meds EVERY 4 HOURS to make the contractions stop and hopefully ensure that Shirley arrives on time, rather than seven weeks early.

I can use a laptop laying down, but knitting and spinning from this angle require some creative arm movements. I'm not sure how much I'll be able to do. Which really is a shame, because that Mongolian cashmere/mulberry silk top is calling to me.