The week that never was

On Tuesday, I decided that I would write off the events of the previous week and pretend as if the whole week had not occurred. Nobody wants to remember their worst long weekend ever, anyways...Today, I am extending that write-off until I wake up from my nap.

It all started last Friday when something (of which I still can't remember) happened that made me realize that mommydom was creeping up quickly, and although probably more prepared then most (the only think I don't have is my hospital bag packed and the supper thick maxi pads that go with it) I suddenly became keenly aware that not only was I going to have a baby in a couple months, but that my DH was going to be MIA (he'll be away working when the baby is born). The reality of the situation had finally sunk in - not that I have any doubt that I will be able to handle it, it is my job as a military spouse... but how did it come so quick?

Already locked into going out with my husband and his friends that Friday night, my pregnancy emotions took over and I became a blubbery mess. I hadn't really spent any time with my hubby in a while and the cool wife that he had on Thursday (the pregnant one that thought it was fine for him to go out on Friday) quickly disappeared.... Thank goodness for good friends. One of the nearest and dearest whisked me away to enjoy sweet goodness at a locally eatery and all was well (if you have never had to give up alcohol on May long before, then don't under-estimate the power of white chocolate).

I soon found myself with hubby at the local watering hole and was really enjoying myself (think River Side pub), when drunken DH suggested that we go to the local lounge (for you NS ppl, yes it really is like the lounge)... I refused to go and somehow DH didn't get the message that I meant that he wasn't supposed to go either... What is that new song? Blame it on the alcohol?

Needless to say, I went home alone and DH wasn't allowed in bed that night... Then once again pregnancy emotions took over and I decided to go on strike. I didn't get out of bed until 6 pm, when DH served me a good steak dinner... and DH still suffered for the rest of the evening by hearing my constant "you hurt my feelings" speech.

Then later that evening, my computer got a virus and by the next day it wouldn't even log on... A virus got me and it got me good. Thank goodness that we didn't get rid of our dinosaur laptops.

Sunday, although much better, found DH and I putting together countless items - the new futon, playpen and baby swing.... and just in case you haven't read the previous blogs, DH and I should not be allowed to put things together... yet at the end of the day we were still married and everything functioned properly (YAY)...

Then Monday came and although I love my dear cousin to bits and pieces, when I see her name appear on my phone I usually dread it... She only calls when bad things happen and of course the long weekend that I wanted to forget was made worse. My Aunt Donna, the matriarch of the family had passed away that morning :(

I then spent the majority of this week trying to figure out how I was going to make it home to be with my family. You see, this was the 4th person on my dad's side of the family to die in just a little over a year. Our growth rate is def not keeping up... Sad for me, I knew that with my ever increasing problems with my sciatic (not sure if that is spelled right) nerve, that the only way for me to travel was on a direct flight... and due to the fact that I will be a kept woman very soon, I realized that I could not afford to go:(... so here I sit today at home alone while the rest of my family once again joins together to celebrate the life of my aunt.

So, after the passing of my aunt I figured, okay so the rest of the long weekend wasn't that bad and the rest of the week can only get better (sometimes we need something really bad to happen to appreciate the other stuff)...

Nonetheless, when I realized Tuesday night that the itchy spot on my belly was actually a stretch mark, surrounded by 4 other of it's stretch mark brothers and sisters I had enough... Not that I thought I would make the whole pregnancy without any, but why do they have to be itchy and sore?... I also have a black cloud over my head that understands that there will be plenty more before this over... one of those, it will get worse before it gets better situations.

So pre-stretch mark findings, I decided that Wednesday things would be better and for the most part they were. Of course I had to deal with the never ending confusion of being a military wife and trying to schedule things around a schedule that never really seems to exist (I have rescheduled a bank appointment 3 times in the past month and a half).

The the beautiful weather of Thursday (still without my computer fixed) came and I was productive and even found time to study in the sun... but then something new happened. My body was reacting very different to the heat. Sweat was coming from area's that sweat should not come from on a lady... okay fine... I can deal with swassyness.... no problem... and I continued to say fooey to all of those people that play pity on women who carry babies through the summer... and then it got dark.

Yes, it got dark and in my non-air conditioned home I soon realized why all those people played pity on me for being pregnant in the summer. It was hot, and not just a little hot, really hot... and my body is a furnace...

So being hot, I drank more water (and so did the dog)... and with a baby on your bladder it is not good to drink more water before bed... and it was windy so the blind was making lots of noise... so between the blind, the puppy's 3 potty breaks (which coincided somewhere with my 5) and the fact that it was just too bloody hot to sleep, I am sure that I am running on fumes today and am doubtful that any sleep really did occur.

To top it off, I could have slept in today, but the carpenters had an appointment with me to come fix my window's at 8 am... by 8:30 am, they still weren't here and upon calling the company I was casually told "the guys must have forgot.".... Grrrrrrrrrrr... Well I didn't forget and if they do decide to show up on Monday I will make sure they remember that they forgot about me.

So now, while I wait for the computer place to call and tell me that I can get the disk that has my nearest and dearest documents on it (as they still don't have my computer fixed), I think that I will once again try to go get some extra sleep and when I wake up I will pretend like the past week never was (maybe if I do this I can also pretend like my horrendous, hormonally charged, mood swings aren't back either).

She has what?... on her brain? A tad more serious blog and a tad long.

First, before I even get started, let me inform you that everything is now fine and Ella has been given a clean bill of health… However, for several weeks DH (Dear Husband) and I were left in healthy little one limbo.

Here we go. After waiting for several weeks for what we could only assume would be positive ultra sound results DH and I went to our midwife appointment. Of course the results had yet to be sent in, but the midwife scurried out of the room in hopes that she would get them before the end of our appointment. In the meantime, she poked at my uterus, checked the heart beat and gave me the news that I had really low blood pressure, and should I feel dizzy should sit down so that I would be closer to the ground – I love practical advice.

Once the results were in, we were given reassurance that everything looked good and that baby was right on target with my due dates – as had been assumed after the reassuring u/s technician had told me that she couldn’t tell me anything, but that I didn’t have anything to worry about… then came the however… However, something had been detected on the u/s, but we shouldn’t worry. Technology has advanced so much that u/s can pick up small things now…

Then we were told that little Ella had bilateral choroid plexus cysts on her brain, a marker for possible chromosomal abnormalities, such is the case with downs syndrome.

The midwife was reassuring, telling us that it happens a lot and that it was up to us as to whether or not we would have another u/s. Of course DH and I decided to have another u/s and the midwife set us up to go to Ottawa in a few weeks time – long enough apart from the previous u/s that the cysts might have “taken care of themselves” and disappeared, as is normal in the majority of cases.

As DH and I left the midwife’s office we both spent the trip home taking turns reassuring each other that the little one would be fine. We both decided at this point that until we knew more we would keep it on the down low so that we would not be plagued by concerned, caring and curious friends and family about the situation and so that we didn’t give anyone else the need to worry until we knew more.

Boiling with curiosity about what the results of this u/s might mean for our new bundle of joy I decided to cancel my plans to travel to Ottawa that evening for dinner with the girls. I called them and explained to them in as little detail as I could why I was cancelling plans for a dinner that we had planned for weeks and that was supposed to take place in only a few hours. I felt like a dick – they understood.

Pen in hand and google open I situated myself in front of the computer and began my hunt for answers. I found both good and bad. For one, the cysts are just one marker for downs, but in order for a child to have downs there are traditionally several markers. I also found out that the cysts are a marker for another abnormality that causes infant death within the first year of life. However, in all cases the cysts just increased our chances (from 1 in 1000 pregnancies to 1 in 300 with those having the marker).

After feeling slightly satisfied that I could now go to my baby shower without blurting out “something is wrong with my baby.” I armed DH with my info and then made the call to my mother bear – the one person that no matter how hard I tried not to let anyone know that I was worried about something would know the second she stepped off the plane… I told her and then I told her that we couldn’t talk about it, leaving her to also worry in silence.

The next morning at 3:00 am I headed into Ottawa to catch my flight for the best baby shower ever! And I had a fabulous time.

Returning back to Petawawa DH and I barely spoke about the upcoming u/s and when we did there was a sense that there was no point of worrying until after the results were in… and we went on reassuring each other that our gut feeling was that she would be fine.

The weeks went on, and on, and on and on.

With DH unable to attend the second u/s with me my mama bear literally flew in to save the day (although one of the girls that I canceled on for my Ottawa dinner did say she would come with me for moral support should I have to attend alone)…

And on Tuesday with mama bear in tow and a very full bladder I got to see my little girl again J I had assumed that the u/s technician would not tell me anything, but to my delight and surprise she told me that the cysts were no longer there!

Immediately, a weight that I didn’t even know existed was removed from my shoulders and I did the happy dance back to the car and sent DH the best news ever! Once again our baby girl was healthy… Of course the u/s technician told us that the results will have to be reviewed by the doctor, but whatever.

The moral of the story is that I have always been a true believer in the idea that everything happens for a reason. Nothing happens by chance.

During the weeks that we waited to find out if something was indeed wrong with our little girl I questioned why we would be put through the stressful curiosity of not having the knowledge but kept the mantra that everything happens for a reason in the back of my head.

Once I was told that everything was fine the machines in my brain clicked and I realized that maybe we were told that something could be wrong so that we could appreciate things a little bit more – appreciate the fact she is now likely to be a healthy baby and not take it for granted (I spent the first few weeks of my pregnancy calling her “retard baby” jokingly because of the copious amounts of alcohol that I assumed prior to knowing about her existence). I don’t think I will do this anymore.

What sound does a moose make?

Whaaa? Mooo? Mowha? I don't know. I have never really heard a moose make a noise before. However, I do know that due to my ever expanding everything that I have graduated from heffer status to moose (does that make me a sow?).

Contrary to what I believed about the lack of weight gain as a result of my eating binge while in NS, it seems that I did manage to gain 10 pounds since my last pre-natal check-up.

My last check-up was the day before my NS food extravaganza. Four weeks ago today. So my days of bragging that I was only gaining a pound a week are officially over and I think it is safe to say that I ate my words... mmmm, are words covered in chocolate? but I still reason that I was weighed this morning pre BM and post breakfast, which should account for a couple of pounds, right? Or maybe my days of cupcakes, perogies, and reece cereal have finally caught up to me... well actually I think they passed me because if they caught up to me some of the weight probably would have went on my rear, and to my despair it has been all frontal... can't I have a bum just once in my life?

However, my midwife was not concerned by my weight gain, telling me that it is nothing to worry about as I still look and feel good... did I somehow forget to mention to her that my back has been killing me? or that I make so many bathroom trips in the night that an eight hour sleep is only accomplished if I actually go to bed at 10 pm and get up for the day at 10 am the next morning?... I think not. Indeed I did tell her these things, but once again "they are normal parts of pregnancy." Boooo-urns.

On that note, if when complaing about my overly frequent urination, I happen to hear "it's just preparation for when baby arrives," one more time, I think I might actually piss in the bed, just to see if I get the same response... because I don't ever remember requiring this much preparation for anything.

Other than the shocking midwife appointment, I have been battling my baby brain that always seems to be getting worse (does it ever get better?) and despite this, have started a new two month course in school. I figured, why not put something else on my plate? In the syllubus it says that a clear memory will help you succeed in this course.... I read this and then quickly sent my professor an e-mail explaining that although a bright and dedicated (so I fudged the truth a little) student, I cannot meet his requirements of having a clear memory, I am toooooo baby brained (didn't he read my blog about my undies?)... although he never responded to this portion of my e-mail request, he didn't comment either, so I guess all I can do is be confident with the fact that I gave him a heads up :)

For my birthday extravaganza weekend I thought it was necessary to go swimming and found my lop-sided belly rather amusing.

A pear on a tooth pick

It's my birthday and I can do what I want... right? So my big wild and crazy birthday decision this year is obviously not to get so drunk that I don't remember coming home, dance on a bar, or any of the other crazy antics that I use to enjoy doing (especially on my birthday, because the "It's my birthday," excuse tends to let you get a way with a lot).

This year my big and wild crazy birthday decision is to crack out the highest pair of shoes that I own and to only look at myself for the entire day from the thighs down and the breasts up. I am determined to start out this new year in my life looking sexy.

Old photo... much sexier today lol

It is also my request on this very special day that everyone else just look at me from behind... not that I have a great ass, but my legs are kinda special and from behind I don't look pregnant :) ... From the front I look like a pear on a tooth pick :)