My kids look just like my sister Cami. No complaints here!
As you can see, this little darling has started smiling (as of Monday morning). But she’s a little stingy. When I asked her to smile for the camera, she gave me these faces:
But then she said, “Jokes, Mom! Loosen up already.”
After a dramatic beginning to the week, we were overjoyed to get Lily’s test results back. I tried to hold her and Amelia as much as possible, and was completely emotional.
Lily still sleeps all day – waking only to eat.
One day while Amelia was taking her nap, I staged a photo shoot of Lily. I loved her faces in the pictures, I just wish I had a nicer camera.
What a gorgeous baby!
Thank you for all the kind comments and phone calls and e-mails – I really (truly) appreciated it over the last couple days.
We got Lily’s results today, and her sweat test was negative. This means (according to the genetic counselor with whom we spoke afterward) there is a “99.99999 etc.” chance that our baby doesn’t have cystic fibrosis. Those are odds I can live with. She is carrier for the genetic disease, which means that her kids could have the disease if she marries somebody who is also a carrier.
I am, as you will imagine, enormously relieved (to say the least). I did manage to wait until after we left the sweat lab to burst into relieved tears. Tim and I are undergoing more extensive genetic testing in case we decide to have more children, but we are pretty sure he is a carrier and that I’m not since I was tested for the most common CF mutations when I was pregnant the first time. Lily has the most common (delta F508) mutation.
There was another couple at the hospital with a newborn who was to undergo a sweat test as well. Judging by the huge bags under their eyes and their looks of intense sorrow, we think they were coming to the sweat test lab with two mutations - to confirm that their baby has CF. My heart aches for them, and for any family who has to deal with a devastating illness or disability of any kind. We were lucky, but there are many who aren’t.
We are lucky – we know that. Our luck could change at any second. I’m left with a bit of a scar – I guess it can go along with the stretch marks that formed while I was carrying Lily. Maybe the fibrous scars of pregnancy and childbirth are just there to give us some kind of physical proof of all the emotional hits we take when we decide to procreate.
I enjoyed all of my statistics courses; I understand what statistics mean, and what they don’t mean. I enjoy talking about them, discussing various approaches and interpretations of statistics.
And, normally, I take comfort in statistics. For example, I am terrified of heights, but I love amusement parks and go on every scary roller coaster possible because there is only a 1 in 300,000,000 chance of dying in a roller coaster accident. Those are good odds, really.
But what I discovered almost immediately upon becoming a parent was that the margin of error I am comfortable with decreased by about 50 logs when it comes to my children.
Today I got one of the worst phone calls of my life – it was from our pediatrician. She said one of the newborn screens came back positive for Lily. One of the bad ones – cystic fibrosis. This doesn’t mean that she has cystic fibrosis, necessarily.
Lily’s IRT levels were elevated, which is a risk factor for CF. Because this screen came up positive, they did a DNA test, and found that she has at least one mutation in the CF gene. If they had found two mutations, she would very likely have CF. Usually (here is where statistics play an ugly and terrifying game) babies with elevated IRT levels and one known mutation are healthy carriers of the gene. In this case, Lily would not develop CF, but her children would have a chance of developing CF if she married somebody who was also a carrier.
But … she could have CF. The screens are designed to test for only the most common CF mutations, and there are thousands. The “odds” of her testing positive for CF at this point are approximately 1 in 30. Lower than 5%. These are good odds, says my pediatrician. But 5% is, statistically speaking, an impossibly enormous number if you are a mother waiting to find out if your child’s life could be characterized by pain and suffering and hospitals and loneliness.
Wednesday we will have a sweat test done – to see if there is too much salt in her sweat (apparently one of the first symptoms is salty-tasting sweat). It might be too early to tell, just to warn you. All these medical and scientific advancements, and the diagnosis of one of the world’s most devastating illnesses comes down to salty sweat. Huh.
Lily “probably” doesn’t have cystic fibrosis: http://www.bcwomens.ca/NR/rdonlyres/776E6BBA-747A-4D9C-8447-15603FE49955/42627/CysticFibrosis1mutation3.pdf
This morning when I woke up, I was worried about whether I was going to get the laundry done. The laundry, for the love. How could that possibly have mattered?
When it comes down to it, the statistical prognostic seems meaningless. She either has CF or she doesn’t. It’s 50/50 from where I stand, and where I stand feels like the unstable edge of the highest, pointiest precipice on earth, with a blizzard on the horizon with a 1:30 chance of heading my way.
……………..
After I spoke with the pediatrician and a doctor in the pulmonary center at Children’s Hospital about her sweat test, I fed Lily, and begged her not to test positive. Instead of answering, she fell asleep. I put her down for a nap, but then decided the laundry could wait. I picked her up and lay her on my chest while I watched her sleep, happy that she was blissfully unaware that little tear drops kept falling on her head.
Lily’s first week at home went great. We all fell madly in love with her right away. She is such a sweet little girl.
Lily has been able to turn on to her belly since birth. We were hoping she’d grow out of it (because it’s safer for her to sleep on her back), but she is very opinionated and MUST sleep on her side. Luckily, she doesn’t like to be on her belly, so when she rolls onto it, she cries and I wake up and put her back on her back. And then she immediately rolls onto her side. Naughty baby.
One of the first things we noticed about Lily is that she makes some hilarious faces. She often looks at us as though she’s suspicious of something. I haven’t been able to get many pictures of her faces, but I’ll keep trying.
One of our favorite things about Lily is that she makes funny noises when she sleeps. She NEVER sleeps quietly – always sighing, giggling (or something that sounds like giggling) or making this funny whimpering noise. She smiles a lot in her sleep – it’s so fun to just watch and listen to her sleeping.
I know she’s ready to eat when she starts making suckling noises and trying to suck on her fingers or hands. If I wait to long, she goes from peacefully sleeping to full blown screaming in a matter of seconds. This girl is opinionated!
She usually naps in her carseat or on my bed. At night she sleeps on a bassinet by our bed – I can’t stand not having her right next to me. Oh, we love this little baby girl!
Listen folks, I may only be one day old, and I may not even have a name yet, but I have some serious opinions about life.
What’s hot: Breastfeeding. I could do it all day. Oh, wait – I do it all day. Can’t get enough. I’m pretty awesome at it if I do say so myself.
What’s not: Getting my diaper changed. I hate that so bad. Leave me alone, parentals and nurses – I’m content to sit and marinate in meconium.
Hot: Fuzzy fleece blankets. Swaddle me as tightly as you wish, I love those things.
Not: Scratchy hospital-issue blankets. Come on, other (no doubt inferior) babies have probably peed on those. Sheesh.
Not: That stupid transparent hospital crib you roll me around in. Seriously, you call that a mattress? Sure, a mattress fit for rodents. Just try sticking me in one of those – I’ll have you wishing you were deaf in a matter of seconds.
Hot: Mommy’s chest, Daddy’s chest, or snuggled next to Mommy on her hospital bed. With a fuzzy fleece blanket.
Hot: Having my back or bum patted. Totally relaxes me.
Not: Mommy singing. Just… just… just STOP, Mom. Nice try, though.
Last Friday, I had an ultrasound and was informed that my baby was in the 94th percentile for size. I was glad the baby was healthy, but I was extremely terrified of giving birth to a large baby and had visions of wearing diapers forever more on account of my pelvic floor being destroyed.
I became anxious (to say the least) to give birth as soon as possible. When my doctor refused to assist in my scheming, I knew I’d have to take matters into my own hands and spent some time researching natural labor induction with the help of the world wide webs.
Tuesday I ate pineapple and mango.
Wednesday I went jogging with Squiggles. I knew I wasn’t exactly as nimble as a cheetah, but I felt good going at what I thought was a nice clip, with the wind in my hair. Squiggles kept saying, “Mommy jogging so fast.” Then I passed a group of 5- or 6-year-old boys pointing at me and overheard one of them say, “I think it’s a zombie.” Deflated.
Thursday I asked Tim to take me to Indian Delight. We ordered our favorites, but instead of medium, I ordered them extra hot. The waiter laughed and said, “I don’t think so.” I said, “I’m serious… I need to go into labor,” so he agreed to honor my request.
That night, I barely slept. The spicy food definitely was having some sort of effect, though it was hard to pinpoint what it was (other than indigestion). The baby was in a strange position, and I was agonizingly uncomfortable so I sat in a recliner most of the night and worked on my ASV poster.
Friday I stumbled into work and had minor contractions all day. I told my friend Claire Marie I thought I might be in labor, but we just laughed it off and decided it was a probably a false alarm. I drank a mango smoothie on the way home, just for good measure.
Last evening (still Friday) around 10:00 I got into bed fully expecting to spend another uncomfortable night not sleeping. Tim and I were trying to think of something fun to do with Squiggles the next day. I lay down to try to sleep, and suddenly I felt something kind of pop in my abdomen. But nothing came out.
Me: My water just broke.
Tim (after assessing situation): There isn’t any water near you.
Me: I know, but my water just broke.
Tim: Ummm… there’s no water.
Me: I can’t explain it, but …
And then there was a little water. At which point, I got out of bed and felt a full-blown Hollywood-worthy gush. We hadn’t actually packed a hospital bag, so Tim scrambled around for toiletries and clothes while I had a lovely experience with some diarrhea. I became terrified of giving birth and decided that what really sounded good was a nice, warm, shower, so I got in and leisurely washed my hair. Tim came in the bathroom and said, “Ummm… did you remember that you’re in labor?”
I gave Squiggles a kiss goodbye (I may or may not have been crying and convinced that I would die in childbirth) and we sped off to the hospital. By the time we got there, I was having some fairly severe contractions… back labor… but I tried to have a good attitude. Tim took this photo (titled I don’t want all these nice people to think I’m a total wimp).
I met the labor and delivery nurse (Meesha) and Doctor Bhindya, and they confirmed that I was indeed in labor. They asked me what my plans were as far as pain management, and I said, “I would like me one of those newfangled epidurals.” They laughed and said, “Smart girl.” (I’m pretty sure that if I had said, “I’m going totally natural,” they would have said the same thing and been just as supportive.)
I had to wait for said pain relief while they took care of my penicillin IV (I’m group-B-Strep positive) and some paperwork. In the meantime, my contractions were getting extremely painful and I took this photo of myself (titled Where the hell is that epidural?):
Just when my contractions were becoming unbearable, the blessed anesthesiologist arrived to save the day. I felt a ton of relief almost immediately and told the nurse I intended to sleep through the night and asked her to wake me up when it was time to have a baby.
My epidural definitely worked better on my left side than my right, so at about 5:30 in the morning, I rang the nurse and asked for some more epidural. She asked me to explain my complaint and I told her it just wasn’t working on my right side because I could still feel the contractions in the right side of my back and bum. She correctly guessed that what I was really feeling was the baby’s head pressing on my pelvic floor. When she checked me, I was pretty much fully dilated, but given the large size of the fetus, she wanted me to wait as long as I could to allow the baby’s head to come down as far as possible in order to minimize the pushing I would have to do. She said there would be a lot less tearing that way, but that I could start pushing as soon as I felt ready and it was a matter of how much pressure I could manage.
I tried to go back to sleep, but I could feel a ton of “pressure” (read: pain) in my pelvis with every contraction. Finally I buzzed her and said, “I think I’m ready to push.” We woke up Tim and they helped me do a couple warm-up pushes before the doctor arrived. I started the warm-ups at 6:43. When Doctor Bhindya came back, she assessed the situation and said, “Good job – this baby is pretty much going to slide out.” That was music to my ears because there had been much made of the fact that my baby had a very large head and was large for her gestational age. I was so terrified of ripping my lady parts to shreds.
They helped me push and were so, extremely supportive and encouraging. At 7:01, the doctor said, “Eh, give me one more little push even though you’re not having a contraction.” I did as she said, and WHOOSH – out came the baby! They slapped her on my chest (as I had requested), and I felt an incredible endorphin euphoria – maybe the kind that my natural-childbirth friends experience. Somehow I got the best of both worlds. Best of all was the gorgeous baby screaming in my arms.
Tim and I looked each other in the eye, and I could tell we had experienced the same thing: love at first sight. She was perfect!
I can’t emphasize enough how much I loved my nurse and doctor. They were like midwives – so caring and nurturing and supportive and encouraging, and my childbirth experience was so fantastic because of them.
Tim was also a rock star. He was loving and compassionate and didn’t leave my side for a second, even though he is on a demanding medical sub-internship and has barely slept the past two weeks. As soon as the baby was born, it was clear that he was smitten. He couldn’t stop smiling.
So was I!
So was Nana!
And Squiggles loves her squeaky new toy!
We are so happy and thankful and blessed.
I can’t believe I’ve made it this far! Friday afternoon, I had another ultrasound to determine the growth rate of the baby. The woman who performed the ultrasound was really funny and kept saying things (in a Russian accent) like, “I can only estimate, but my estimate is that this baby is… not small.” She estimated her weight at about 8 lbs., 8 oz. She showed me a shot of her belly and said, “The baby has a very cute belly… a little chubby belly.” She also found a shot of her nostrils which she seemed to think was hilarious.
I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow – Tim says I don’t have a prayer of being induced early since the baby is within a perfectly normal weight range. I’m hoping for a week from tomorrow. I’d like my sister Cami to be back from vacation, but I also would like to give birth as soon as humanly possible. :-)
The baby has dropped considerably – I can feel her wiggling about very low, and I feel a constant pressure on my pelvic floor. Hopefully that is a good sign of labor to come shortly! We finished moving last week and I ended up carrying some rather heavy boxes around. As a result, I have had a lot of sciatica pain for the last week and it’s really difficult for me to get up and down or walk normally. I can’t roll over without a lot of grunting. Squiggles likes to tease me. When she lies down, she grunts and moans and then starts laughing and says, “I teasing Mommy!” It’s pretty funny, I have to admit.
I can’t wait to meet this baby and find out what color her hair and eyes are, and to see the first signs of her personality. I cleaned off my bench and desk at work just in case I go into labor tonight. :-) I know it’s a long shot, but I can’t help hoping.
Woo hoo! I haven’t given birth yet – this is officially the most pregnant I have ever been.
The baby moves position several times a day. One minutes she’ll be head down in birthing position, then suddenly she’ll decide she wants to hang out by my ribs again. My belly shape is constantly changing. Tim and I get a big kick out of watching an elbow (or knee - who knows?) move from one side of my belly to the other. I have decided that she is doing swimmer’s kick turns in my belly. It’s the only explanation for the sudden and drastic changes in position. We’ll have to take her to the pool when she’s done doing time in the womb and test out my theory.
Squiggles is getting ready for the new baby. She loves to lift up my shirt and say, “Hi, Baby Sister” in a high, sing-song voice. It’s adorable. But every time we see a cute toy or outfit in a store and I say, “Should we get this for Baby Sister?” she responds with, “No, mine!” Ha ha… we’re in a for an adjustment period, I can tell already.
I have been feeling utterly exhausted the last couple days. Yesterday I felt like I completely crashed, and today hasn’t been much better. I have a feeling my iron is really low again – I don’t seem to have enough energy to walk from room to room, and every time I sit down, stand up, or even sneeze or cough, I see stars and feel like I’m going to faint. We got steaks for dinner and I’ve been popping iron pills, so hopefully things will improve. We got gym memberships and I’m dying to go swimming. I haven’t been for a couple weeks and I need to get back in the water – it feels so good to swim laps.
Also, it has been in the high nineties the last few days, with nearly 100% humidity. This weather is a special kind of hell for this eight-months-pregnant gal. :-)
But… it’s going to be over soon. Can’t wait to meet this little kick-turning, sleep-stealing butterball baby. I love her so much already, and I know it just gets amplified a thousand times after birth.
I went in for my 33 week checkup this week (the doctor wants to see me much more frequently now because I gave birth early with Squiggles). Dr. MacKenzie often has medical students working with him, and this week, he had a new student: a friend of mine from my PhD program (she recently finished and is back in medical school). It was fun to have her be my “doctor” for the visit.
Everything looked great, except my fundal height was measuring bigger than expected. Dr. MacKenzie had me go to the hospital the next day for some ultrasound scans just to make sure everything was okay.
I haven’t spoken with the doctor yet, but I requested a copy of the scans to be put on a CD, and showed them to Tim when he got home. He said everything was in a “normal” range.
However… drumroll…
The baby is estimated to already be 6 pounds! Ahhhhhh!!!! I’m so glad she’s healthy, but I’m a little terrified to give birth now. Squiggles was born at 34 weeks, and she was barely 5 pounds. Most of the baby’s measurements were average for somebody who is about 36 weeks along (they print the averages on the scans). This baby already weighs as much as Squiggles did when she was about 7 weeks old. :) D’oh! Long labor ahead.l I’m a little relieved because if I give birth early again, at least the baby will be in good shape to start out in the world.
I can’t believe this pregnancy is mostly over. It seems like I’m going to pregnant forever and ever. I sometimes have a hard time conceptualizing this baby ever being anywhere other than my belly (more specifically, sitting on top of my bladder). I am so, so, so, so, so excited to actually hold this baby… in my ARMS.
Next week is the dreaded 34-week mark! I am having a baby shower at 34 weeks, 2 days… exactly how far along I was when my water broke with Squiggles. I’ll be happy when that day comes and goes… hopefully with only the baby shower to count as an exciting event.
I’m totally smitten with the baby already. She sticks her bum against my abdomen right above my belly button, so I pat it and sing her songs. This seems to encourage her, and she sticks her bum out even further. If I feel her back, I rub it, and she sticks it out further as though to say, “More, more!” Maybe this baby will actually enjoy cuddling!
We have been going on walks to the pond almost every day, and I try to swim and lift weights at the gym a couple times a week. I keep trying yoga, but I start having contractions whenever I try to do any core exercises / stretches (downward dog, plank, etc.).
I am so uncomfortable in so many ways that I have stopped keeping track. The other day, one of my professors (John) asked me why I was limping. I honestly hadn’t really noticed. I shrugged my shoulders, and he said, “Just another pregnancy thing?” (He has two kids). I said, ""Yeah, I guess.”
My uterus is taking up the spaces formerly reserved for not only my bladder, but also my diaphragm, stomach, ovaries, intestines, and probably lungs. I have to pee every hour, preferably every half hour, and I’m constantly wheezing because I can’t catch my breath.
But I know it is all worth it. Like I said, I can’t wait to meet this baby. I’m so excited I could pee my pants. Literally.
My PhD advisor saw me recently eating a bowl of fresh pineapple. She said, “Laura, didn’t you know that pineapple can cause contractions?” Since I wasn’t having any contractions, I laughed and blew it off as an old-wives’ tale. I did do some Googling, and read that mango and kiwi contain the same (possible) labor-inducing enzyme as pineapple. I love all three fruits, so I decided it was wisdom worthy of completely ignoring.
Incident one: I bought and ate a fresh mango one afternoon. That night as I was trying to sleep, I was awoken several times by extremely painful cramping ten to twenty minutes apart. I asked Tim for a glass of water, and things settled down.
Incident two: I ate some delicious mango sorbet at an ice cream shop. Repeat Incident one experience with nighttime contractions / cramping.
Incident three: Yesterday I drank and Odwalla mango smoothie. Last night, I could barely sleep because I kept having contractions, and was awake from 1:00 – 4:00 am with very painful cramping / contractions that were two to three minutes apart. Drinking water didn’t help at all, and I was already resting. I was terrified that I was going into labor, and I think Tim was too. It’s just too soon! I drank three glasses of water, did laps between my living room and kitchen, and finally fell asleep in the rocking chair in Squiggles’ room. I slept for a couple hours, and awoke to contractions again, but much less painful than before. I went back to our bedroom and slept for another couple hours, and woke up with only minor Braxton Hicks contractions. Phew!!! I had spent the night before trying to come up with a plan for caring for a premature baby in the NICU, taking care of Squiggles, and finishing my PhD. I hadn’t actually come up with any viable ideas, so hopefully I can keep this baby in for another couple months. :)
Needless to say, old-wives’ tale or not, I’ll be staying away from mangoes. Until week 40, at which point there will be mango mania!
Good news – I passed my glucose tolerance test yesterday! Which means I can now feel free to consume 100 grams of sugar in five minutes on a regular basis, I guess. (Just kidding – I’m still not over the sugar assault.)
This morning I had a prenatal appointment with Dr. MacKenzie. It was just a short appointment – he wants to see me every couple weeks now that my due date is getting closer. The heartbeat sounded great. I told the doctor that I was feeling quite a bit of pressure on my pelvic floor, so he felt around and confirmed that the baby has dropped and is hanging out down south. I’m pretty sure she’s jumping on my bladder most of the time (with her head, I guess). I have to pee approximately every 15 minutes. For reals.
I’m pretty convinced that this baby is going to come early (wishful thinking?)– maybe a month or so early. Tim is pretty convinced that I’m going to go full term (definitely wishful thinking) and has informed me that there will not be a third offspring if I don’t comply. I asked him how (specifically) I should go about complying with his wish, and he said, “Just think positive.” Ha ha, he’s such an expert on that sort of thing.
Last night when Tim was putting Squiggles to bed, he asked her what we should name the baby. She said, “Pretty Piggy” at first, but when Tim asked about Lillian, she said, “Uh HUH!” He asked her what the middle name should be, and she said, “Head Toes.” Sounds good. He then asked her if we should name the baby “Susannah,” and she said, “Oh yay! Sue-Nana! Sue-Nana! Sue-Nana!” I guess she likes that one even better.
The baby is moving around a lot lately. She doesn’t seem to sleep much, actually. Hopefully this isn’t an omen of things to come. She (like her sister, when she was in utero) rearranges herself every time I change position. I have really enjoyed watching my abdomen lately – I can see elbows and feet and hands pushing and stretching all the time. I like to think she’s doing yoga.
I’ve been having dreams that the baby is born early (like her sister was). Last night I dreamed the baby was born, and I gave it to my mom to take care of because what I really needed to do was go hiking and get some exercise. As I was hiking along, I realized that I had forgotten to send a picture of the baby to my department, so I texted my mom and asked her to take a picture of the baby and send it to me. Oh dear… hopefully I’ll be a slightly more responsible mother in real life. But then suddenly in my dream I started sobbing because I missed being pregnant… then I knew I was dreaming. 
I had a prenatal appointment a couple weeks ago. I had to take my glucose tolerance screen… and I failed it. I only failed by a few points, but I have to take the 3-hour fasting test on Wednesday. I guess I shouldn’t have eaten a cookie and cupcake from Flour on the way to my appointment (d’oh!). I’m pretty sure I’m not diabetic, but I’m not looking forward to drinking that syrup again – disgusting! And I have to have my blood drawn at least 3 times – I’m not so much a fan of needles.
I also found out that I was quite anemic. I told Tim the day before the test that I thought I was anemic – I felt like I was on the verge of fainting almost constantly for a couple days and had less energy than I’ve ever had in my life. A couple weeks ago, I got lost three time on my commute. Once I ended up in Concord, once somewhere on the Middlesex Turnpike, and once I ended up heading west on the Mass Pike heading toward Framingham. I felt like I couldn’t concentrate for the life of me. One afternoon, I texted Tim and told him I thought he’d better drive me home that day – I didn’t feel safe behind the wheel. It was a very strange feeling – usually my iron levels are great. I bought some “gentle” iron, and I’ve been feeling MUCH better the last few days. I guess I should have been taking my prenatal vitamins (d’oh!).
The third piece of disturbing information was that I gained 16 pounds in 14 days. It was almost all water – I could see it and feel it in my face, neck, arms, and legs. Very disturbing. My doctor thought it was probably because I had severe allergies at the time (blood vessels get much leakier during times of histamine). I think he was right – I’ve gotten rid of a lot of the fluid during the last few days (which corresponds to my allergies lessening significantly).
During my last appointment, they did an ultrasound because I thought maybe I had leaked some amniotic fluid (I won’t go into details). Everything looked good (lots of fluid pockets), and the baby looked great. She did look like she had a large head (d’oh!).
I have another prenatal appointment this Thursday, so hopefully I’ll have good news.
Hallelujah - two trimesters down! This pregnancy is flying by right now - probably because I have an adorable two-year-old to take care of and a doctorate to finish.
Good new! We may have come up with a name for this baby. I was listening to the radio the other day and heard a song called "Lily Love" by the Chieftains and The Civil Wars. The lyrics really grabbed me, and the melody and harmonies are gorgeous. I had Tim listen to it, and he agreed it was a beautiful song. Later he came into the kitchen and said, "I like the name Lily. Let's name her Lily." So... tentatively, I think that will be it. Unless we meet her and she looks more like a Susannah or Jane or Eliza. :-)
Down, down by the sea,
There is a crown of daisies
High, high on a hill
My little Lilly Love
West wind in your hair,
Tied up in golden daisies
She's chasing you down
My little Lily Love
You hide and seek high and low
In every corner of my soul
I almost hear
The sound of your heart beating
Oh, like it's my own,
My little Lily Love
In other news, I have been feeling like my back is going to break. I don't remember feeling this huge and dysfunctional when I was pregnant with Amelia, but maybe my memory is a bit selective. I've also been having some fairly intense contractions - as intense as when I was in labor. These usually happen at night. I've had some that occur every five to ten minutes for up to an hour, but they ease up if I drink a glass of water. I have a prenatal appointment Tuesday, so I'll be sure to mention it.
I can’t believe it – I’m halfway done!!!
Today I woke up with the weirdest feeling. It was the feeling of feeling… normal! I haven’t felt sick hardly at all today, and didn’t even take my Zofran this morning. I ate a huge lunch and then wanted CHINESE food (for the first time since becoming pregnant) for dinner. It was a miracle.
Also, today I felt the baby kicking for the first time. I have felt her wiggling around a bit, but tonight I felt her kicking up a storm. It was awesome.
This afternoon, the cafeteria lady told me that it looked like I was having twins. Ha – thanks a lot! I am getting pretty big, I have to admit. Hopefully that means I have a healthy baby girl inside. I’m so excited to see and kiss and hold and love her.
On February 23, at 1:00 pm, I had another sonogram. My good friend Erin came with me because Tim couldn’t get time off at the hospital. He really wanted to come, but it just wasn’t possible. Before he left for work, I asked him if he wanted me to text him with the gender of the baby, and he said, “No, I can wait until I get home from work and you can tell me in person.”
The sonogram technician said everything looked great, which was a huge relief. I was so worried about spina bifida because I wasn’t able to take prenatal vitamins after about 6 weeks due to severe morning sickness.
The technician at first said she couldn’t tell whether the baby was a boy or girl because its legs were politely crossed. She gave it a couple gentle nudges and a few minutes later checked again. This time, even I could see its legs were wide open and I knew what it was before the technician confidently proclaimed, “That’s a girl!” No hesitation whatsoever.
After the sonogram, I texted Tim the following picture:
He texted back immediately and said, “I can’t wait. Boy or girl?” I texted him the first picture, and he said, “Told you.” Ha ha ha. It’s true, I was convinced it was a boy, but from the very beginning Tim has thought it was a girl.
We’re so excited to have two girls – sisters are awesome!
