We’re Home!!!

Will be back later with lots and lots and lots of updates (and pictures!).

We have to return to the hospital for daily jaundice checks, but everyone is doing great!  We had a family trip around Walmart this afternoon, and I’m already feeling like a normal human being again.  Except for being a complete and total flabby cranky mess, that is!

It’s been hard.  My hormones are all over the place and my milk isn’t coming in (even with pumping), so I’m running a short fuse with no sleep.

Send sympathy to my husband, who doesn’t really deserve it.

What a wonderful world.

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry for all the worry I’ve caused you, my dear friends. It’s been a hard couple of days, & I promise I’ll get back on with the full story as soon as I can.

Things started Monday night at 6:00, & he was FINALLY delivered via c-section at 6:54 a.m. this morning (Wednesday, August 27th, 2008). I’ve been sick through most of this ordeal – puking up anything & everything, including water & juice & jello. And breastfeeding is not happening yet; but I have hope that it will.

I desperately need to get some sleep, but here’s a picture to tide you over for the next day or so. Big big big hugs to everyone & thanks for all your well wishes!

Love, Kris, Dave, and Mason

It Won’t Be Long.

I think it’s finally hitting me.  I’ve been extremely emotional and weepy all morning, to the point that I started sobbing over the Discovery Channel’s Boom De Ah Da commercial while puttering on my laptop.  “I love the whole world.  It’s such a brilliant place.”  And soon, so soon, I’ll be introducing my newborn son to this big, scary, wonderful world.

I’m so excited, yet so afraid.  In the back of my head, there’s this little voice screaming, “No, wait, I’m not ready yet!  I haven’t accomplished anything yet!”.  But then my heart  fills with this huge sense of love and purpose, as if we’re about to become a part of something so much bigger than the 2 of us.  Bigger than I can even imagine.

I wish this feeling for every woman, everywhere, who has ever wanted a child.  The journey to this point in our lives has been filled with so much anger and frustration, hope, despair, and love.  It almost killed me and nearly broke up my marriage; but it’s something I can’t take back.  Nor would I want to.  Every tear I’ve shed, every pain I’ve felt, every time I thought I was broken & couldn’t manage another day . . . it’s all brought me to this point.

This point where it’s all about to change.  And as scared as I am, I know I can handle whatever God throws our way today.  And tomorrow.  And for all the tomorrow’s to come.

It’s such a miracle, such a blessing, that I find myself overwhelmed.  Even though I’ve felt him kicking me for the last months, have seen him moving around on the ultrasound screen, I still can’t believe that we’ve created this little life out of the love we share (and almost lost).

The nursery is set up.  My bags are almost packed.  I’m ready.  After 36 years and 3 days, my life is about to begin.  And I’m ready.

I’ll update as soon as I can, both here and on Twitter; and on Flickr as soon as I can get the pictures uploaded.  I can update Twitter from my cell phone, so I’ll probably text in when it’s too much to use the laptop.

Until then, enjoy this song.  It Won’t Be Long.

Because really, it won’t be long now.

To maternity and beyond…

There is not a coherent thought to be found in my head right now.

In less than 24 hours, I’ll be in the hospital, waiting to have the baby. I’m not sure how it’s all going to work – only that we have to be there no later than 6:00. I’m guessing they’ll get me settled in, hooked up to the monitors, and start the IV pitocin to get things going.

What happens next? It’s anybody’s guess. My blood pressure might spike from the pitocin. It might take forever for my cervix to get the hint, since I wasn’t dilated at all (as of Wednesday). I don’t know when The Gynie God will be coming in – I’m guessing when I’m ready to push, or sooner if things aren’t going well. I know he’s really worried about my bp, and I still have this weird premonition that a c-section is in my near future. And you know what? I’m okay with that.

The nursery is set up. The swing is set up. The pack & play is waiting for action. My bags aren’t packed. I don’t have a coming home outfit picked out yet for the baby. And we’re still not 100% decided on a name. On my short list? Mason Joseph, Bennett, and Mitchell. I think we’re going to take one look at him, and his name will just sort of jump out at us. It’s such a huge responsibility, you know? Giving your child a lifelong name.

I also did some research on gifts for our labor/delivery nurses. I think it’s a nice gesture, but I also think that if you give a gift to one person, you have to give something to everyone involved in the birth. So, we’re probably going to send a nice fruit basket from Edible Arrangements. I’d rather spend $100 and send something the entire staff can enjoy, than pick up five $20 boxes of candy and have to pick & choose who gets a gift & who doesn’t. And who can resist this?

That’s really all I can think of for tonight.  I’m sure I’ll be back for one last childless blog entry tomorrow.

Our last night as a couple.  My God, where has it all gone???

Reason #4,512

Why I can’t wait for the little man to get here?  I’ve developed pregnancy-induced carpal tunnel in my hands.  My fingers go tingly, then numb, then my hands & wrists feel like they’re dead weight.

The end is in sight, though.

Our days are numbered.

Just got off the phone with my doctor.

Checking in to the hospital at 6:00 Monday night, baby should be here on Tuesday.

Oh my God. My long-awaited much loved baby is going to be here in four days.

Before I forget, what are the essentials to bring to the hospital? So far, I’m thinking
Grubby/comfy underwear,
A nursing bra,
Socks,
A robe/nightgown (although the nurse suggested wearing the hospital gown, rather than ruining my own),
Toiletries, including lots of chapstick & lotion,
THE DIGITAL CAMERA!!! & charger,
A laptop + a USB cable to transfer the pictures (we should have internet access in the room),
The Ipod & charger,
A coming home outfit & blanket for the baby,
The breast pump & nursing pillow,
Some kind of candy/trail mix to keep our energy levels up,
A book or a couple magazines,
Cell phones with contact lists preprogrammed in,
The baby book, to get his footprints & info inked in right away,
And an enormous tub of valium!

Also, do we bring some kind of little thank you gifts for the nurses?  Any ideas?

I’ll be back later, when I can stop giggling with the happies. =)

It’s gonna be a “happy” one, alright.

1:20 a.m. on the morning of my schmirty-thixth birthday, and where am I?

Out whooping it up over green apple cocktails with my best friends Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte, and Miranda? Nope.

Tucked comfortably in bed, dreaming of chocolate cake with peanut butter whipped frosting?  Guess again.

Oh, no. I’m up, sat in front of the computer screen, trying desperately to make this burning acid reflux settle down enough for me to take a breath without coughing. So far, I’ve taken two antacids, drank about half a gallon of strawberry milk, ate a bunch of saltines crackers and a piece of bread and a handful of lowfat pringles and two pieces of colby cheese; and am now working my way through a pint of Ben & Jerry’s peanut butter cup ice cream.

All this coughing is making my bladder feel like I’m going to expel it through my belly button.  I coughed so hard, one of my contacts flew off my eyeball & shot straight up into the atmosphere.  Next stop, Pluto.

I’m going to go watch some mindless tv, and see if I can resist the calling of some Mighty Putty or a couple sets of ShamWow!.

Freaking out a little. Okay. A lot.

The British are baby is coming! The British are baby is are coming!

This morning, things started off on a fairly quiet note. Dave was in Milwaukee at his citizenship hearing (he’s now an American citizen – yay!!!), so I had the house to myself. You know what that means? A glorious morning of watching the news in peace & quiet, followed by a hot shower that was actually, you know, HOT.

I arrived at The Gynie God’s office for my 9:00 ultrasound, and was pleasantly surprised when the ultrasound technician announced my little guy went through a growth spurt, and is almost 7 pounds. Of course, this came with some good news and some bad. The good news – it bumped my due date back up to September 9th, which means I’m measuring at 37 weeks & the baby is considered full term. The bad news? My amniotic fluid levels are low again at just over 10cm. Anything from 8cm to 18 cm is considered normal; but I dropped from 14 last week to 10 this week.

Then it was off to the recliners for another non-stress test. The baby was nestled in his little sweet spot, and didn’t want to wake up for his heart acceleration. It took over an hour; but he did finally liven up and made his unhappiness known with a few choice kicks to my overflowing bladder. Just you wait, my boy. Momma will remember all these kicks & punches, and feed you sandwiches with the crusts still on as revenge!

Finally, it was off to see The Gynie God. The nurse took my blood pressure (slightly high again), and did my urine dip (passing small amounts of protein). Then she said the doctor needed to do the Group B Strep swabs, and check my cervix for any signs of thinning or dilating.

So, The Gynie God comes in, and tells me that he’s happy the baby is growing so much, because we’re now in the 70th percentile. Does the GBS swabs, and proceeds to stick his entire arm up my vajayjay, while telling me “you’re going to feel some pressure”. Thank you , Captain Obvious.

He also said that my cervix is very high, which explains why I’m feeling his head slamming into my pelvis. And that I’m not dilated at all yet.

Then, while his elbow was still halfway to my ovary, he nonchalantly said, “I’m going to induce you next week.”

Me: “WHAT did you just say?????”

Him: “While, I’m going to the big 150th Harley rally in Milwaukee next weekend, and I really want to get you delivered before then. But I’m not sure if I should do it Tuesday while I’m still in town, or have the (f*ckwit) MFM doctor deliver you on Wednesday. I’ll call you this afternoon.”

Me: “WHAT did you just say?????”

Him: “Eh, I can’t see any reason why that baby should stay in longer than next week. Your bp is creeping up, and things can easily go wrong with the placenta at this stage of the pregnancy. Why tempt fate, when we can get the baby out & he’ll be fine.”

Me: “Wait. What did you just say?????”

Him: “I need to check out the schedule, but head home & wait by the phone. One of us will call & tell you when & where you need to check in. Okay. See ya!”

I think I sat on the exam table for a good 10 minutes after he left the room. It’s a good thing they took the blood pressure reading before our little conversation, and not after.

So, I called Dave, who told my Dad, who almost passed out in the middle of Cabela’s. Dave handled the news really well, but my Dad started shaking & had to sit down and take some deep breaths. Silly, silly men.

I came home & waited, and at 2:00, kicked off my shoes to catch a little catnap. Of course, the phone rang, & it was The Gynie God’s nurse, needing me to do ANOTHER 24-hour urine collection. And can I come to the clinic right now, so we can start right away?

So I hauled my swollen self back to the office for another blood draw & that lovely collection jug. I don’t know what it is; but something about handling & storing my own urine for 24 hours (in the refrigerator, no less) makes me extremely queasy. I could give vials of blood every hour on the hour for days; but the thought of handling my own pee sends my stomach into shivers.

While I was there, I bumped into The Gynie God again. And begged told him that I really didn’t want the MFM doctor delivering me. Thank God, the MFM was all booked up for Wednesday anyway; so it’s either going to be The Gynie God on Tuesday or his female partner from the practice on Thursday. I would love to wait until Thursday (08-28-08); but I won’t argue with whatever he decides.

So, my friends, in 8 days or less, the long-awaited Prince of Pudginess is going to be here.

I need to go breathe into a brown paper bag for a few minutes.

Harumph.

These pregnancy hormones are killing me.  I thought The Clomid Crazies were bad.  That was nothing compared to the roller coaster ride of the last few days.

Dave has tendonitis in his shoulder, and he’s supposed to be taking it easy.  As in, not shovelling gravel or trying to build a garden shed by himself.  Both of which he did Saturday morning before I got up.  Then tried to deny; even though I heard him working with the gravel through our bathroom window.  I went into an all out tirade about how he’s outside doing stupid crap, begging for an even worse injury; when he’s supposed to be in the house helping me get ready for the baby.  DOES THE TERM BED REST MEAN NOTHING TO YOU, DILLHOLE??????????  I don’t think we spoke civilly to each other until Sunday morning.

On Sunday afternoon, I wrenched my back while attempting to shave my legs in the shower.  My belly is getting so big & heavy, and it’s almost impossible for me to balance on one leg while trying to reach my ankle with the disposable razor & shaving cream.  And let’s not even think about my wild & wooly bikini area.  The Gynie God is going to need spelunking equipment just to figure out which end is up.

Monday morning, Charlie (our yellow lab & beagle mix) hurt her arm or her back, and she’s now too scared to jump on the bed or on her favorite chair.  She spent yesterday moping around, and yelped in pain when she moved around during the night.  She’s slow to get up and lay down, but she’s still walking okay.  I bought her some puppy aspirin today, and I’m hoping it will help take the edge off.

Speaking of which, holy crap was today a bad day!  In the last 6 hours, I’ve managed to:
=> Get a terrible haircut.
=> Buy steps for Charlie to use to get on the bed, and break said steps while assembling them.
=> Give Charlie a huge overdose of her canine aspirin (the bottle said HALF a pill for every 30 pounds of body weight – I thought it said a whole pill).
=> Call every furniture store in town, looking for another set of steps to put next to the bed.
=> Found one store, went to pick them up, and discovered the back of the steps were badly damaged.  Got into a yelling match when the store tried to bully me into taking them anyway.
=> Discovered my brand new cellphone doesn’t work in most of Green Bay. WTF?!?
=> Broke the strap on my Crocs, which I’ve been wearing for all of 2 months.
=> Returned the broken steps to Petco, where I had to wait over 20 minutes for a manager’s approval.
=> Found a huge lump on the side of my finger from an ingrown nail.  It’s all soft & squishy & gross; and I’m going to end up doing bathroom surgery to try and straighten it out.  Sigh.

Yeah, did I mention I’m still supposed to be on bed rest?!?  A haircut, a pet store, a furniture store, and a return trip to the pet store don’t exactly make for a relaxing day.  But Charlie is hurting & I want her to feel better.

And Dave is in Milwaukee with my Dad.  They’re going to a Brewers baseball game tonight, and Dave has his immigration swearing in ceremony tomorrow morning.  Today is my husband’s last day as a limey b%stard.  Tomorrow, he will officially be a United States citizen.  And I’m going to miss it.  

And Dave is going to miss our final growth ultrasound tomorrow.  I’m excited; but scared.  I’m only 22 days from my original due date of September 12th; and 27 days from the revised due date of September 17th.  My God.  There’s so little time left before he gets here. 

I’m going to be a momma.  I still can’t believe it.

All this resting…

Has left me extremely tired. Go figure.

Because it has nothing to do with the potty parade I had to endure for the last day (also known as the dreaded 24-hour urine collection).

Step 1. Realize bladder is feeling fullish.

Step 2. Decide to head to bathroom now. Because you know what happened last week when you waited too long. And sneezed. And needed a 3am shower. And a mop.

Step 3. Hunt for pee collection bucket, which you swear you left on the bathroom counter when you last peed (approximately 2-1/2 minutes ago). Without turning on the lights, because you don’t want to jolt yourself awake at this ungodly hour of 11pm.

Step 4. Find pee bucket perched on top of the trash can. What the?

Step 5. Jiggle from leg to leg while raising toilet seat & place pee collection bucket underneath seat.

Step 6. Somewhere in foggy brain, realize you just heard a splash.

Step 7. Fish pee collection bucket out of toilet water. Do NOT mutter any of the choice expletives filling your brain out loud, because apparently the little f**ker sleeping in your belly can hear.

Step 8. Reach over and turn on the light, so you can balance the pee collection bucket underneath the seat.

Step 9. Lower seat and FINALLY make tinkles.

Step 10. Grab toilet paper, and perching precariously about pee collection bucket, wipe. Front to back, of course.

Step 11. Drop wad of used toilet paper into pee collection bucket. Swear several times as the buttwipe absorbs your urine.

Step 12. Lift seat again, pinching finger between lid and seat. Swear again.

Step 13. Attempt to grab tiny dry corner of toilet paper in pee collection bucket. Miss, and end up grabbing wet mess of soaked toilet paper. Swear again.

Step 14. Throw used toilet paper into toilet water and flush. Wipe wet hand on fresh toilet paper and flush again.

Step 15. Run to kitchen to collect pee jug out of the refrigerator. Step on dog’s foot, setting off a round of painful barking. Swear some more.

Step 16. Take a huge swig of orange juice directly from container. Double check to make sure you’ve opened the oj lid & not the pee jug one.

Step 17. Try and choke back vomit as you realize how stupid THAT would have been.

Step 18. Run back to the bathroom with pee jug & set on bathroom counter.

Step 19. Reach into toilet to grab the pee collection bucket, forgetting that it’s now wet. And slippery. Splash most of remaining urine down the outside of the toilet, on the rug, and on the floor. Swear again.

Step 20. Realize you’ve also dripped urine on your feet. Continued swearing.

Step 21. Unscrew the lid from the pee jug. Try not to vomit at the thought of handling stale urine.

Step 22. Vomit into the toilet. Swear. Mop up spilled urine, since you’re already on your knees.

Step 23. Pour remaining 11 drops of urine from pee bucket into pee jug.

Step 24. Spend 6 minutes hunting for lid from the pee jug. Realize you dropped it behind the toilet while trying to quietly puke.

Step 25. Wake up husband to rescue lid from behind the toilet, because you have far too much belly to bend down & get it yourself. Replace lid.

Step 26. Send grouchy husband back to bed, muttering more choice words under your breath.

Step 27. Rinse pee collection bucket in the sink, and drop it on the floor.

Step 28. Get husband to pick up pee collection bucket, because you’re still too big to bend down and get it yourself.

Step 29. Rinse dog hair off the pee collection bucket & set it on the bathroom counter.

Step 30. Wash hands. Realize 1.2 seconds too late that you forgot to turn the tap from cold to hot. Get arctic blast of cold water on hands, thereby ensuring that you’ll be awake for the next 4 hours.

Step 31. Dry hands. Accidentally drop hand towel into the toilet. Begin to cry.

Step 32. Fish hand towel out of toilet & throw it into garbage can.

Step 33. Wash hands with ice water again.

Step 34. Realize you have nothing to dry your hands on. Stub toe while opening cabinet door to collect a fresh hand towel. More swearing and crying.

Step 35. Sit down on toilet to finish crying.

Step 36. Forget that you didn’t put the seat back down after taking out the pee collection bucket. Scream as butt touches cold porcelain and icy water with an ominous splash.

Step 37. Stand up, grab another towel out of cabinet, and dry off butt as best as possible while swearing and crying.

Step 38. Grab pee bucket, now mocking you, and shut off the light. Reach for doorknob in the dark & drop pee bucket on your foot. Can’t stop blubbering enough to mutter any choice words.

Step 39. Walk into kitchen, put pee jug back in the fridge, and take another swig of orange juice.

Step 40. Return to bed and accidentally lay on dog, who’s now claimed your spot on the pillows.

Step 41. Toss and turn for 75 minutes, until your bladder refills & you have to do this all again. Every time you pee. For the next 18 hours.