The Downside of a Multi-Doctor Clinic

I love the upsides to multi-doctor clinics. For instance, Bryce sees a primary pediatrician in a clinic full of 'em. So, when there's an emergency and his doc is off, Bryce can still be seen by SOMEONE there and get the care he needs, without me having to swoop him off to the ER or Urgent Care all the time.

My OB's office is similar. I have a primary OB, but in times of emergency, I can see any one of 5 (they partner two offices together in order to have that many on staff). This is nice because, I could really have this baby at any time, and it is comforting to me to know, that, if my OB is not on call, someone from her office will deliver Abbie and will know my chart.

Or so I thought.

Because of my experiences with being pregnant with Bryce and having pregnancy-induced hypertension, I'm ACUTELY aware of signs of high blood pressure and pre-eclampsia (to those of you who don't know, pre-eclampsia is a serious pregnancy complication that can lead to a whole host of problems...usually bedrest and sometimes early induction/C section follow). Last week, I gained 5 lbs in 4 days. That is NOT normal. Normal at this stage is about 1-2 lbs/week. I can assure you that I was not sucking down Tagalong Blizzards and Big Macs (though they are quite tasty). I was also swelling a lot, and Monday morning my eyes were swollen and I was having blurry vision. The weight gain and these symptoms are all signals that pre-eclampsia may be on the horizon.

My OB is on vacation. She will be back on the 4th. So, Monday, I call my OB's office, advise them of my symtpoms and as what I should do. Well, I should come in of course, only the OTHER OB in the office is out too, so I'll need to go to the downtown clinic to see Dr. P. (using abbreviations only to be kind...I'd dime these folks out in a second if I thought anything they did in the following paragraphs was gratuitous and intentional). So, I see Dr. P. Luckily, my BP is normal (GREAT sign), but they want to run some blood labs, so I oblige the vampires.

I receive a call this morning from Dr. P's office. There were some abdormal readings, so they want me to take some more blood tests. This time I ask if I can do them at the clinic near my home and ask what it's all about. THEY DON'T WANT TO TELL ME. I finally prod, and the nurse mentions something about my liver. Fan.tas.tic.

So, I rush into the lab to give the vampires a second helping of my O negative, and then await my 3PM appointment with my OB's partner, Dr. W. Untreated anxiety made today a living hell for me. All sorts of terrible scenarios floated through my head, and it was everything I could do to get through my daily alotment of work.

I get to the appointment, and Dr. W's nurse tells me that he's still in surgery and I'll be seeing the nurse practitioner. Uh, what? I have nothing against nurses, and I know that 9 times out of 10 they've got it figured out before the docs, but THIS is serious...THIS is my liver. THIS could mean inductions or a c-section if it's serious enough...can a nurse make that call?

I wait for about 20 min in the waiting room, and then another 20 min in the procedure room. All of a sudden, the nurse comes in, moves me to a different room and tells me Dr. W is there and can see me. Phew, that's a relief.

I wait another 10 minutes, before Dr W comes waltzing through the door. And he looks at me funny. I would have stood to shake his hand, but I'm 37 weeks pregnant thank you very much, and I don't feel like getting up. So, I wait for him to sit in front of the computer, and check my chart, and ask me why I'm there. EXCUSE ME? I realize you just came from surgery, but the least you could have done was read the notes the nurse wrote on the back of my chart. So, I calmly explain the symptoms I'd had which led to my Monday appointment with Dr. P. He looks at the blood drawn on Monday, and says, "well, it all looks very normal to me..." WHAT? Are you kidding me? "Well," I reply, "they called me this morning and requested that I take more tests, did you get those results?" I haven't seen a blanker stare since I asked Bryce if it was he or the cat the squeezed all of the toothpaste down the sink. "Oh!" He says, as he quickly pulls up my chart on the computer...."yep, those labs look good, too."

Well, then WHAT IN THE HELL did I need to give blood for again? Obviously, if Dr. P thought they were normal, I wouldn't have given more this morning and I wouldn't be here NOW! So, he says, "well, your platelets are a little low...normal is 150 to (some number I can't remember) and you are at 148. That is where you were at on Monday and that's where you're at today."

"So, what does that mean?"

"Well, nothing really. You're just a TINY bit low. It's really nothing to worry about. I'd just keep doing what your doing and see Dr. G (my normal OB) next Wednesday." He listed for Abbie's heartbeat, measured my stomach and then left the room.

I was SO PISSED. Not pissed that Abbie and I are healthy, mind you. I'm very grateful for that.

Pissed that I spent my ENTIRE day, FREAKING out. I had called my mom, and she was seconds from hopping a plane early. Brett was in a PANIC, coming up with contingency plans for his workload should he need to leave early.

So, I called them both, told them we were A-OK, and I was a victim of the left hand not knowing what the right hand was doing.

Funny thing is, I betcha I'll get a call from Dr. P's office, wanting to go over my results, and maybe even ordering MORE labs, because according to nonchalant Dr. W, the results from today were the same as Monday.

We'll see how they decide to play this one.

Baby Abbie Update

I am one day shy of 36 weeks, less than 1 month before my due date of August 20th. I've slowed way down, I can't move around too much without it being a bit painful...she feels like she's going to fall right out of my stomach and onto the floor! I've gained a total of 33 lbs....not bad considering a "healthy" weight gain is 25-35 lbs, and I gained over 50 with Bryce. My blood pressure is still excellent.

I had non-productive contractions for several hours on Sunday afternoon/evening and ended up in L&D. They made me chug water, confirmed yes, I was having contractions, but they weren't doing anything, they weren't painful, and I wasn't dilated or effaced, so they sent me home with instructions to "take it easy." Apparently, they don't know what my life is like! :)

Monday I was extremely crampy all day, but no contractions. Same on Tuesday. Wed AM (this morning) I woke up at 4AM with TERRIBLE heartburn, and decided to just begin my work day early. I'll probably actually finish up my "work" day in a couple of hours and then just be available by phone and check my voicemail periodically, and try and catch a cat nap. I have had a few more contractions this morning, but again, non-painful and non-productive.

I was told if I go into labor on my own at this point, they will NOT try and and stop it. Depending on how early Abbie comes and if she has any issues, she may need some short-term help in the NICU, but anything after 37 weeks is considered full-term and healthy...so we're 1 week and 1 day away from being full-term. I'm just trying to keep her in one more week.

My luck she'll decide to just stay in, cause me to wonder for weeks if it's "time", and then be late. If that's the case, then there would be no mistaking that she is definitely MY daughter. :)

I'm Sick

Well, kids, the stress of it all finally caught up to me yesterday. I spent the whole day crying, punctuated with moments of clarity, just long enough to talk about a claim with an attorney and not SOUND like I was crying all day. I got into a fight with one of my cousins over something s ridiculous via Facebook, that when I went back and read our dialog later, I was ashamed at myself. It was clear at that point, that the stress has successfully permeated every aspect of my life, and I have become a miserable person to be around.

Hell, my mom was so worried about me that she called Brett to discuss everything and make sure he was doing everything HE could to alleviate stress for me. Like it's solely his job, and he's not experiencing any stress either. God love her, she was just concerned about her daughter. Brett took it well, thank goodness.

So, anyway, we're laying in bed, after resolving some issues and I mentally felt better, but I could tell my body was rebelling. I just felt...I don't know...funny. Not like I was going to throw up, just maybe that I needed to be up and about. I went downstairs and watched mindless television until 3AM when I think I finally passed out. The TV viewing was also interrupted several times by trip to the bathroom. I'll leave out the fun details. But, let me assure you, it wasn't a fun night.

When I awoke on the couch around 4, I went back to bed. Then got back up at 5 and was sick again...until 6, when Brett got up for work. He suggested I call in sick to work, since Wednesdays are my days to work from home with Bryce in tow. This is no easy feat healthy, let alone sick and pregnant. I figure, any excess energy I have should be devoted to my child and not being at the beck and call of some attorney.

So, I'm pretty sure I'll come back to work with a counseling memo waiting on my desk for missing too many days of work lately. But, you know, I'm not afraid of that anymore, because I've decided my health and my family are much more important than any job. It would be nice, though, to be able to keep my benefits until the baby is born. :)

I Need A Bigger Plate

There are just too many stressful things going on right now, and I'm ready to explode. Either in tears, or I just may strangle someone, I'm not quite sure which yet.

We are now over 2 months without a workable kitchen. The floors are in, and were sanded, with two coats of finish on them. This is forward movement, yes, however, my house now WREAKS of the finish they put on it (think a very strong, obnoxious nail polish remover odor, mixed with paint thinner...absolutely awful). The fumes were gone, so it is safe to be here, but the stench makes me nauseated and gives me a terrible headache. It hasn't been exactly balmy here in the PNW, but my windows have been open 24/7 since Tuesday as if it were. I'm starting to wonder if it will ever go away. Oh yeah, and there's one more coat to go...

We were told our cabinets would be in the week of the 16th...well, that was pushed to the 23rd. Yeah, yeah, only one week late, which as far as construction goes, may as well be on time. But, still, after 2 months of this GARBAGE, I can't take things being delayed. I just want my kitchen back.

We still haven't decided on granite for the countertops. We've been to the slab warehouse twice and though I found several I liked, Brett found none. And, he's unwilling to take time off during the week to go look elsewhere, so that means that we're down to a small amount of time next Saturday to look (ie, maybe an hour, after a mandatory meeting I have on Saturday for my church council). Why Saturday? Well, because the cabinets come in on the following Monday and I swear to GOD, if Brett is the reason why we have another delay, he'll be swimmin' with the fishes.

Brett wants to purchase a $450 faucet for our kitchen sink. WTF? Are you f'ing kidding me? I found several VERY NICE faucets, all within the $100-$200 range, which frankly I still think is too much money, but much more reasonable that $450. Why so fancy? Well, it looks like an ornate lunchroom cafeteria kitchen sink hose. You know, the ones you can pull down from the ceiling and spray 1000 lbs psi to scour the mystery meat off the casserole dish. AND, it has a magnet within the faucet to boot, so that after you're done power washing your siding, it will self-retract and hold itself in place with the magnet. HOLY CRAP.
Frankly, I think you could pay me $450 and I could MAKE one that looked and functioned nicer than this. THIS WILL NOT BE GOING IN MY KITCHEN.

On the bright side, we did have someone finally come in to do some electrical, plumbing, and insulation/drywall, so I'm not staring at the bones of my house (aka the studs). We have picked out a sink, a dishwasher, and the paint color for our entire downstairs. However, despite this progress it gets worse:

My pregnancy has shifted from nausea (yay, I have my appetite back) to a constant feeling of pelvic pain, pressure, stabbing, sharp, miserable, can't-get-comfortable, crap I'm only 17 weeks and have at least 22 more to go, misery. These complaints brought about a slough of diagnostic testing from my OB. Nothing's wrong. Much like my dizziness months ago, this is just another symptom of my pregnancy, which may subside, stay the same, or God forbid get worse as time goes on. I recall feeling this way with Bryce...but I was about one month away from delivering him. I am already so tired, but everytime I lay down, I feel like someone has just kicked me HARD between the legs, and they are repeatedly doing it. So, no rest for the weary. No amount of pillows, large or small, seems to be easing my discomfort. I envy women who have easy pregnancies. Frankly, I'll be the first to admit that I hate being pregnant, and I only do it for the end result. I don't enjoy any moment of this. I didn't with Bryce, and I'm not with this one. But, the end result is MORE than worth it. So, you'll just have to put up with my rants from here on out.

Brett's been super busy at work (or so he says), and can't seem to get his ass home before 8PM. This creates havoc in my life. First, Bryce's bed time WAS 8PM ( I say was, because he really wants to see his dad at night, and I feel guilty putting him to bed before dad gets home most night), but has been pushed back, sometimes as late as 9:30 during the week. This means less alone/couple time for us. It also means that Bryce has been whinier than ever due to the fact he gets to spend little to no time with dad, and then he's super cranky in the morning when everything starts back up at 6:30 AM. Second, I get NO help during the week with the daily routine of meals (which currently amounts to a TON of driving around to figure out what "sounds good"), cleaning, bathing, and entertaining Bryce. I've tried to be understanding, but it's difficult when your husband is OBSESSED with money and his job is commission-based. I once jokingly called his boss a slave driver (we have that kind of relationship where I can do that without any retribution) and he was very quick to point out that everyone else leaves at decent hours on most nights and it's not him that's making Brett stay. So, basically I married a man that would much rather spend his evenings under cars than with us. Resentful? You bet. Tired? Duh. Upset? To say the least. His little schedule comes in waves. He starts staying later and later, under the guise that he just HAS to get these cars done, and then I finally get fed up and tell him he needs to leave because it impacts us all negatively. HE IS ABLE TO LEAVE BY 6PM when I threaten him within an inch of his life, for a couple of months in a row, before the cycle starts all over. I just can't understand why he's doing this NOW. I am pregnant, our house is completely torn apart, we haven't finished making decisions to complete our kitchen, Bryce just got his cast off and misses him like mad, yet he still stays. Boggles the mind.

Anyway, I know this was a long post, and there is even more that could've been written here that is complicating my life at this juncture, but this would be an inappropriate venue to divulge the remainder, so I remain mum. Just know that if you don't hear from me for a few weeks/months/years, it's because I'm either in a mental institution suffering from a nervous breakdown, or that I'm in prison. :)

Time to Shave the Nether Regions Folks...

...because there's no more Bush! Ha!

(Jumping for joy).

Actually, after seeing the movie W, I actually feel kind of bad for that sweet little puppet on a string. Farewell Bush's cronies, yes-men, and CHENEY!

And, as most of the country, I spent a lot of my day glued to CNN, bawling sporadically, and really just trying to understand the gravity of what has just happened in our country. Oh yeah, and screaming at the TV, "Get back in the CAR, Barack, get back in the CAR!" during the parade. I'm sure the Secret Service could relate. :)

Still dizzy, you may be wondering? Yes, but not as often. I did go to the ER on Friday night and they ruled out the serious stuff. So, I have perfect hearing, no tumors, no strokes, hemorrhages, and my brain looks as it should. So, I'm dizzy because I'm pregnant. It's the only other explanation. Damn. I have been feeling better in general the last few days, so I'm beginning to wonder if I may have escaped the duration of nausea that I felt with Bryce. Oh yeah, but there was Saturday.

Since during the week I pretty much park Bryce in front of the TV in the evening, I figured Saturday we should actually go do something fun as a family. SO, I decided swimming was something I could do. Bryce, Brett and I packed up and headed to the local pool for Family Swim time. From noon to 1. Normally, that's lunch time, but I owed it to the fam, so I sucked it up. We had a great time, and then afterward I took Bryce into the women's locker room (where he proceeded to tell a naked woman that her pee-pee looked like mommy's...fan-TAS-tic) to dry off. Within 5 minutes, I knew that if I didn't get food soon, it was going to get ugly.

So, off we went into town, with a sense of urgency to get mommy some fries with ranch (which was the ONLY thing that sounded good to me at the time). Within 10 minutes I had fries sitting in my lap. Brett decided he didn't want fries and that he was going to take Bryce to a sub shop to get sandwiches. While waiting at a light to make a left into the restaurant, I took a bite of a fry and IMMEDIATELY gagged. Oh.dear.God. I looked at Brett, who was looking a t me as if to say, "if you throw up in my new Tahoe, I may have to hurt you a little bit..."

Me: Brett, we need to get somewhere with a bathroom RIGHT NOW.
Brett: But I'm stuck, there's traffic every where! What do you want me to do!?
Me: I DON'T CARE, JUST GET THERE NOW!!!!

Brett jumped out of line and cut across two lanes of traffic to get me into the Taco Time driveway, where I proceeded to jump from the moving vehicle and run to the door. Now mind you, the place was packed with families eating lunch, so the thought of losing my stomach in the trashcan right by the front door just wasn't feasible. I ran into the restaurant where the smell hit me like a brick wall. I made it to the bathroom, where I found the stalls occupied and woman waiting. Boy, she was not lucky that day.

I threw up first into my hand and down my sweatshirt, then onto the floor, and finally into the sink. If the waiting woman could have climbed the wall and clung to the ceiling, I'm certain she would have. In between wretches I remember saying, "I'm so sorry," and "I'm so embarrased." A woman came out of the stall after I had finished emptying my stomach and I managed to squeak out the words, "I'm pregnant." Well, all of a sudden that was a different story! The woman climbed off the wall and got me paper towels, the woman from the stall wanted to know details of my pregnancy and reassured me it would get better while patting my back. I felt 110% better and began cleaning up my own embarrassing mess. I refused to let them help me clean it, if it were me, I know I wouldn't want to be near it. I managed to get most of it with paper towels.

Now, imagine you work at Taco Time, and you're hating life, and it's packed and busy and noisy, and you just want to go sleep off your hangover, and then this woman...this woman with puke on her shirt comes up to you and says, "hi, I just puked on your floor and in your sink...do you have a mop?" WHAT? And that's exactly the look I got from the cashier. I was pretty sure I was going to have to announce to the entire restaurant what I did in the bathroom to help make a clear picture for this woman. Finally, I was handed a mop, and told to leave the mop in there and once things settled down, they would do a deeper clean. So, there I was, mopping the floor of the Taco Time bathroom...something in a million years, I never thought I'd do.

I finished the clean-up, and went out to the Tahoe, where poor Brett and Bryce were waiting to find out what the hell happened, and if they could still go get their lunches. When Brett saw me (and my sweatshirt), he knew I didn't make it and was extremely kind and sympathetic the rest of the day. This was officially THE FIRST TIME I've ever thrown up due to a pregnancy. I'm now part of the club! :)

Hope I didn't make you too sick! Happy Inauguration Day everyone!

Dizzy, Day 15

So, it's official. There's something wrong in my head. Besides the obvious. :)

I'm going to an ENT tomorrow to find out why exactly I'm so darned dizzy, even when I only move my eyeballs. This is crazy, and is REALLY not helping the daily baby nausea.

I yelled at Bryce today. You see, Wednesdays, I work from home and Bryce stays here too. It's an interesting balancing act, and I'm glad that I don't have to do it all week (yet, anyway), because I end up sticking him in front of movies until lunchtime, and then it's immediately naptime. At this juncture, I work on anything that may require a lengthy phone conversation of uninterrupted analysis.

Anyway, I got a really weird assignment today, and while I was trying to figure it out, I had to make some calls. And Bryce decided that was the exact moment to scream that he wanted cheese. So, I got him cheese out of the fridge. But, it was just half a slice, not the whole thing, which led to a mini-melt down. And after mommy got off the phone (trying to laugh off my screaming child in the background), I literally YELLED at my son, told him to shut up and watch his damned movie and eat the cheese I gave him. He looked stunned. And he answered, "okay mommy, I'll eat my cheese." He then sat silently and didn't even make a move.

I did apologize to him. I was downright mean. I shouldn't have yelled like that. I guess that's what happens when the phone calls can't always be made during naptime and you have a 3 year old who doesn't understand. Oh yeah, and you're also very ill all day long everyday and at your wit's end. Again, not his fault.

Just life.

Aggravation Nation

I'm not perfect. I'll admit it, I can be lazy. I mean VERY lazy. But, I can also hunker down and get things done when they need to be. I don't enjoy living in filth, so I fight my urge to pop in a movie, and instead pop in earbuds and listen to some upbeat songs and get down and dirty.

However, with this pregnancy and all the joyous nausea that comes with it, I just need to sit sometimes. Or more. I get thirsty, guzzle too much water, then feel like I'm going to yak, so I gotta sit and let it work through my system so I don't toss my cookies (or water, as the case may be). About the only time I don't feel nauseous is first thing in the morning. Once breakfast hits, it's on like Donkey Kong.

Why is it that my husband doesn't get this? We've already gone through this once, and I'm FAIRLY certain he thinks I faked every ache, pain, and nauseating minute of my pregnancy. That would include the modified bedrest I was placed on, which is where I believe Brett's resentment began. I wasn't able to do ANYTHING but lie on the couch for hours at a time (which should be a lazy girl's dream!), when all I wanted to do was clean, organize and put baby stuff away. This pretty much placed Brett in a position of working all day, coming home and doing almost all of the housework. He'll never admit it, but I know some resentment boiled over by the end. It showed pretty clearly within the first 2 weeks of Bryce's life.

Before we even got pregnant this time around, I got the distinct impression that I was being tested in some aspects, to see if I could work full-time, take care of a 2500 square foot home with only sporadic help from the rest of the M Clan, a 16 year old (who, to her credit, is remarkably self-sufficient, but still needs some gentle guidance), and a 3 year old (who usually does a FANTASTIC job of helping to re-create the messes I've just cleaned up). I think for the most part I passed the test with flying colors.

However, add in pregnancy, and we've got a whole different ballgame.

Now, even my best laid plans are thwarted by bouts of nausea, the kind you get when you ride a roller coaster backward with your eyes closed...all day long. So, I've gotta sit, or do something besides even mild physical activity to focus on ANYTHING else but how crappy I feel.

I knew I'd physically feel this way again, at least until week 13 or 14, but I guess I had just hoped I'd be cut some slack, given some sympathy, and be treated more like a woman who's carrying her husband's child and less like that chick who lives in the house, cooks dinner, cleans (or tries to, but gets sneered at when she doesn't feel well enough to do it), takes care of the toddler, and bakes a new bun in the oven.

Oh yeah, did I mention I work full-time too?

Baby James Princess

So, I told you I'd tell you where my son came up with this nickname for the new baby growing in mommy's tummy. He's a creative little monkey, I'll give him that.

He and my cousin's daughter, who is a year older than Bryce, were playing together a couple of weekends ago (before I knew I was preggers). She had a doll, and they had her entire bedroom sprawled out in the living room, and we were trying to get the kids to put the toys away. Well, D hands me her doll and says that she can be "my real baby." So, playing along as I always do, I asked Bryce what we should name the baby. He is obsessed with Thomas the Train, and decided we should call it "James", after one of the trains on the show. I asked D for a middle name, and she though Princess sounded nice. So, Brett and I were joking as I was holding the baby doll that our new child was Baby James Princess.

Flash forward a week, as I'm explaining to Bryce that I didn't eat a baby, and that he doesn't have a baby growing in his tummy, only mommies can grow babies in their tummies. He then decides that the baby needs a name and the perfect name for it is "Baby James Princess". And so it begins

FINALLY!

After several months of trying, my positive test finally arrived! :) I am officially 6 weeks pregnant, due on August 20th! I swore that I would never have another summer baby, as being 6-9 mo pregnant in the heat of summer SUCKS, but at this point, I don't care (I'm sure I'll be re-thinking that come July). It was only Bryce and me here when I got my positive test, so he was the first one I told. He looked at me like I just told him we were having chicken for dinner, said "cool, mommy!" and went back to watching Cars. :) He has named the little bean Baby James Princess for now (long story for another blog).

In other news, we did gingerbread houses yesterday, and had several left over, as the crazy snow blizzard prevented several from making their way here. We had a dad who took over his son's house after he lost interest and went upstairs to play. He crafted a lanai out of pretzels and made an alligator for the porch. He decided his gingerbread house was built in Florida. :)




Pretty creative! I told him that he's going to really have to be imaginative next year if he ever hopes to top this year's house!

Now onto actual Christmas/Christmas Eve!
Wherever you are, and whatever you do or believe, I hope that you and yours have a very Merry Christmas and a peaceful holiday season!