So, today I got back in the pool.
I'm letting that sink in a bit, because it feels really monumental to me. Let me explain.
It's great, of course, to get some exercise in while pregnant and swimming is a lovely low impact way to blahblahblah. We all know this stuff. Going for a swim does great things for my el prego self...period. Duh.
But that's not really why it feels so monumental. It feels like more because it's a return to something that I loved so much, long before my love for Olivia or Little Man even existed. Swimming was one of the ways that I proved to myself that I could do things...valuable things with my body. I spent many years ignoring or purposefully breaking down my body, pretending that I didn't care. An ignorant, blase approach to my own finite gifts.
And then I began hurting. Much of my pain was emotional, but it surfaced physically. I ached. I developed skin rashes. I started weezing and it turned into full blown asthma. I was allergic to everything. I avoided stairs and bathing suits and curvy dresses. Then I started avoiding people and places and, well, life. It didn't happen over night, but one day I woke up and realized that the most beautiful things about me were in tatters on the floor by my feet, grey and shriveled from misuse.
So, among other things, I started to move. I bought a pair of running shoes and started running the length of blocks, then 1/4 miles, then a whole mile in a row. I remember that day. I remember calling my future husband...whom I literally had just met the week before...and confided in him that I just ran a full mile in a row without stopping and I was so proud. And he didn't think I was a loser. I knew he was the one. I could be broken in front of him and he would be proud of the pieces because he could see the whole.
And it became a journey. Running went to swimming went to biking went to triathlons. Short ones went to medium ones went to long ones. I found so many of my limits during the process. Most were imaginary, and I figured out how to get around them. Others were real, and I learned to swallow my pride, reframe, and refocus. It stopped being about moving rather early in the process. It was my conduit, my method of transformation. The irony? I'm not terribly good at it. I'm generally last in everything. I've ended more races than I can count after the volunteers have broken down the finish line. I've passed innumerable water stations packed up and done for the day. But it was important for me and I appreciate it.
And then we tried to get pregnant and it didn't work. And much of my time became about finding the right doctor, getting on the right protocol, and timing meds and visits to help us be parents. Infertility turned into IVF turned into a high risk pregnancy. There was no space for me to keep up with my old lifestyle. Technically I could have, but it would have broken me. I have learned how much I have to give and know now to stay inside that boundary. Not for safety, just because I don't want to live on that ledge anymore. I don't have to anymore.
Then I happily focused on Olivia. Perhaps to my own detriment, I turned all eyes on her and her development and happiness. I managed our household. I started a new job. I learned how to become a working mother. It was decidedly without grace, but I kept it all together and came out the other side as a pretty good mom.
And then we were back. Back in the stirrups. Told by the doc not to wait -- IVF immediately. Do not collect $200 or regain your emotional footing. Certainly do not get back to running again. IVF turned into our second miracle baby. And for about a week we were in heaven...amazed to have this good fortune. But then it was low betas. And then an enlarged yolk sac. Weekly discussions of imminent miscarriage. Chart notes that read "grave" and "guarded prognosis."
Funny. At the time, we thought that was the worst it could get.
We made it through all of this -- genetic testing, diagnosis of CHD, preparations for open heart surgery -- because of our marriage. It's a good one. Solid to its core and we both work hard at that.
But...this whole time...I've focused elsewhere. I've known what's good for me, what nurtures me and makes me feel proud and empowered, but I've ignored it. Failed to make the time and priority. Grabbing that "everyone comes before mommy" cliche by the hand and pretending that it looks good on me.
It doesn't. And I'm starting to learn that I don't have to be the cliche if I don't want to.
So, getting into the pool this morning was important. Staring at my alarm at 5 AM and wishing I could just sleep a little more...but not...was about getting back to me. Getting back to the person who was willing to go out on a limb and make promises to herself and keep them. I used to do that all the time. It helped define the edges of my character. It helped me be me without apology.
This morning I kept my promise and it felt good.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Monday, August 27, 2012
Third CHOP visit
Today was our third visit at CHOP and one that I was eagerly anticipating. Michael didn't join so we could save his vacation days for when we need them more, so I flew solo on this one.
The echo went well -- no change in diagnosis and no surprises. His truncal valve is developing well, which is a huge relief. Looks like he is squarely in the type 1 variety with a healthy truncal valve. Good news. Dr. Deganhart was pleased and so was I. I confirmed that we didn't need to quarantine the house after Little Man gets home (i.e., pull Olivia from daycare), which is a huge relief. She adores daycare and it's the most consistent and sturdy thing for her during these weeks of transition -- the possibility we would need to pull her was not a pretty one. Another bullet dodged.
Next up was meeting with the psychologist. It was the first time I met with her and super helpful to talk through how to manage the emotions surrounding all of this and getting questions to the unknown. I came away with some great suggestions for helping to get the support we need from our family and friends, as well as some coping ideas for the weeks to come. Plus, it's just nice to talk to a mental health professional that actually gets what this all feels like!
Next up with the ultrasound. It was quick and that felt good. (It's the longer ones that worry me most!) Little Man is growing well, measuring in at 55% and 2 pounds 13 ounces. The placenta (and it's whacky umbilical cord) is very high up in the uterus, blessedly far away from the cervix and all the trouble that could cause. Another piece of good news!
Right after the ultrasound was done, the OB (Dr. Martinez) and a visiting fellow came in for the consult. Thanks to an amazing midwife who lives out near us and her input, the team decided that I do not need to move closer to the city after all. Wahoo!! Of course, this could always change, but for now I'm safe to stay at home and continue to work all the way up to delivery. He's going to monitor my sugars, too, and check my insulin doses each week for the duration.
Lastly, the awesome midwife, Karen, and I worked for about an hour to get all my info into the computer and most of the visits planned. Oh....AND A DELIVERY DATE!!!! Looks like we do 2 week visits for the next month, then weekly for the last 6 weeks. It's a lot of time at the hospital, but will be worth it in the end, of course. Goal now is to get to 11/12/12...our newly scheduled due date!
I'm exhausted. That's enough update for now.
The echo went well -- no change in diagnosis and no surprises. His truncal valve is developing well, which is a huge relief. Looks like he is squarely in the type 1 variety with a healthy truncal valve. Good news. Dr. Deganhart was pleased and so was I. I confirmed that we didn't need to quarantine the house after Little Man gets home (i.e., pull Olivia from daycare), which is a huge relief. She adores daycare and it's the most consistent and sturdy thing for her during these weeks of transition -- the possibility we would need to pull her was not a pretty one. Another bullet dodged.
Next up was meeting with the psychologist. It was the first time I met with her and super helpful to talk through how to manage the emotions surrounding all of this and getting questions to the unknown. I came away with some great suggestions for helping to get the support we need from our family and friends, as well as some coping ideas for the weeks to come. Plus, it's just nice to talk to a mental health professional that actually gets what this all feels like!
Next up with the ultrasound. It was quick and that felt good. (It's the longer ones that worry me most!) Little Man is growing well, measuring in at 55% and 2 pounds 13 ounces. The placenta (and it's whacky umbilical cord) is very high up in the uterus, blessedly far away from the cervix and all the trouble that could cause. Another piece of good news!
Right after the ultrasound was done, the OB (Dr. Martinez) and a visiting fellow came in for the consult. Thanks to an amazing midwife who lives out near us and her input, the team decided that I do not need to move closer to the city after all. Wahoo!! Of course, this could always change, but for now I'm safe to stay at home and continue to work all the way up to delivery. He's going to monitor my sugars, too, and check my insulin doses each week for the duration.
Lastly, the awesome midwife, Karen, and I worked for about an hour to get all my info into the computer and most of the visits planned. Oh....AND A DELIVERY DATE!!!! Looks like we do 2 week visits for the next month, then weekly for the last 6 weeks. It's a lot of time at the hospital, but will be worth it in the end, of course. Goal now is to get to 11/12/12...our newly scheduled due date!
I'm exhausted. That's enough update for now.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Some pool time for Little Obi
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| Perhaps one of my favorite photos of the summer. |
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| For as adventurous as Olivia was in the big pool for the first time, she still held on close to Mommy. |
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| Love her. |
Something for me...
Tonight I'm doing something for me. This is a big move on my part. Aside from a pedicure here and there and an occasional solo trip to the grocery store, I don't do much for just me. It's a bad combination of "total cheapskate" and "control freak who must be productive at all times."
I muscle through stuff usually and it's notalways ever pretty. It's also no fun for the hubby or strangers who come within 5 feet.
So, today I'm getting my old gym membership back. I used to be a fitness nut. Long-distance triathlons and some such. Lots of miles logged on my bike and hours in the pool or on the road. Fertility treatment always seems to bring this to a screeching halt and for both pregnancies I have struggled to get back onto track. Once Olivia was my #1 priority, fitness just became an aspirational run here and there. Sad to my inner voice wondering where I got lost in the transaction, but a trade off I made with my eyes wide open.
But the problem is that I feel really, really lousy all the time right now. My feet hurt constantly. My calves are knotted up. My pubis and my back holler at me throughout the day. I rarely sleep well. And I'm soft. Not just prego soft, but out-of-shape-prego soft. Why? I don't move enough. I can do more.
I resisted a lot to the idea because of the time commitment. Seriously...if I could find an extra 90 minutes each day, wouldn't it be better to just sleep?? But Michael was insistent and I have given in.
Last night I stopped at Modell's for a suit. Attention pregnant ladies: Do NOT attempt to purchase a non-maternity suit when 7-months pregnant and wildly out of shape. It is comical and frightening, all rolled into one ball of overstretched lycra straps and paunch. Gross.
For now, I'm stuck with my flowery and super inappropriate beach suit, but it fits and is technically a bathing suit. I get to pair this flowery number with a racing cap and goggles, cause that's how I roll. Tonight that will be me...the beached whale in a flower skirted suit and a triathlon cap eaking out slow 50s in the lap pool. Tickets start at $1.
I muscle through stuff usually and it's not
So, today I'm getting my old gym membership back. I used to be a fitness nut. Long-distance triathlons and some such. Lots of miles logged on my bike and hours in the pool or on the road. Fertility treatment always seems to bring this to a screeching halt and for both pregnancies I have struggled to get back onto track. Once Olivia was my #1 priority, fitness just became an aspirational run here and there. Sad to my inner voice wondering where I got lost in the transaction, but a trade off I made with my eyes wide open.
But the problem is that I feel really, really lousy all the time right now. My feet hurt constantly. My calves are knotted up. My pubis and my back holler at me throughout the day. I rarely sleep well. And I'm soft. Not just prego soft, but out-of-shape-prego soft. Why? I don't move enough. I can do more.
I resisted a lot to the idea because of the time commitment. Seriously...if I could find an extra 90 minutes each day, wouldn't it be better to just sleep?? But Michael was insistent and I have given in.
Last night I stopped at Modell's for a suit. Attention pregnant ladies: Do NOT attempt to purchase a non-maternity suit when 7-months pregnant and wildly out of shape. It is comical and frightening, all rolled into one ball of overstretched lycra straps and paunch. Gross.
For now, I'm stuck with my flowery and super inappropriate beach suit, but it fits and is technically a bathing suit. I get to pair this flowery number with a racing cap and goggles, cause that's how I roll. Tonight that will be me...the beached whale in a flower skirted suit and a triathlon cap eaking out slow 50s in the lap pool. Tickets start at $1.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Ease, or lackthereof
I'm not sure there's ever a time when you can relax with a pregnancy like this. I keep thinking that if I can get another thing done on the list to prepare for the baby, then I'll start feeling better...less anxious.
It's not working.
Don't get me wrong, it feels good to be done with the big girl room and see Olivia adjust so wonderfully to it. Michael finished the walls and carpet cleaning in the nursery today and it's great to know that we're in the home stretch to have our place ready to be a family of four.
But the unease still follows me. Usually just under the surface. It deadens the impact of things, leaving a dull thud when a bright report would usually ring.
Part of my worry is what this third echo will find. I'm not yet feeling comfortable that we've learned about it all. Perhaps I spend too much time reading the experiences of others, whose babies' heart conditions are compounded by a menu of complex related issues. I haven't relaxed in this pregnancy since our first lousy lab finding, about 7 months ago. It's been a long year for us. A really long year for me.
I have to be patient and get through one more week until we go to CHOP for our third consult, our first with the OB team there, who is now taking care of me full time. In the mean time, we've made some great progress at the house getting things ready and the to do list is shrinking. My anxiety may not be, but at least the list is!
I'm also tossing around the idea of a gym membership for me. Spent some time swimming this weekend at MomMom's pool and it felt so wonderful. Truly amazing. I want to find some time to do it between now and the delivery, and hopefully after things settle and Little Man is home again. It's a tough call, since I'm not big on wasting money and it's hard to find any free time for myself except very early in the morning. To get a swim in before work, I'd need to leave the house around 4:30. That early start, a full day of work, and then our typical nights with Olivia? It's a long day, but it might just be worth it.
It's not working.
Don't get me wrong, it feels good to be done with the big girl room and see Olivia adjust so wonderfully to it. Michael finished the walls and carpet cleaning in the nursery today and it's great to know that we're in the home stretch to have our place ready to be a family of four.
But the unease still follows me. Usually just under the surface. It deadens the impact of things, leaving a dull thud when a bright report would usually ring.
Part of my worry is what this third echo will find. I'm not yet feeling comfortable that we've learned about it all. Perhaps I spend too much time reading the experiences of others, whose babies' heart conditions are compounded by a menu of complex related issues. I haven't relaxed in this pregnancy since our first lousy lab finding, about 7 months ago. It's been a long year for us. A really long year for me.
I have to be patient and get through one more week until we go to CHOP for our third consult, our first with the OB team there, who is now taking care of me full time. In the mean time, we've made some great progress at the house getting things ready and the to do list is shrinking. My anxiety may not be, but at least the list is!
I'm also tossing around the idea of a gym membership for me. Spent some time swimming this weekend at MomMom's pool and it felt so wonderful. Truly amazing. I want to find some time to do it between now and the delivery, and hopefully after things settle and Little Man is home again. It's a tough call, since I'm not big on wasting money and it's hard to find any free time for myself except very early in the morning. To get a swim in before work, I'd need to leave the house around 4:30. That early start, a full day of work, and then our typical nights with Olivia? It's a long day, but it might just be worth it.
Friday, August 17, 2012
A whirlwind week
This is not a week I would love to experience again. Let me explain.
This week, my house of cards fell apart in a flourish. After innumerable calls back and forth between three perinatology offices, my local OB, and CHOP, we finally figured out that nobody but CHOP really wants to deal with my issues. The perinatology group that has treated me up to now, monitoring sugars twice a week and doing all our genetic testing, feels we cannot continue there. The big concern is that once non-stress tests begin, they would have to admit me to a hospital not equipped with a high enough level nicu should I show signs of labor or a problem. I get it...I really do. Do I wish we could have resolved this months ago and not waste hours of time? Sure.
The second choice perinatology group is my local hospital. While they have an appropriate nicu (and would, gasp, be convenient!), they also were inappropriate since they refused to track my sugars/insulin dosing. They would only perform the non-stress tests and wanted to get yet another doctor (endo) involved for the other piece. Never mind.
Meanwhile, folks at CHOP weren't talking to each other and confusing the whole thing by transferring my care over from all of my current providers without my knowledge. Turns out it was by mistake (I think they saw transfer at 37 weeks and mistakenly thought we were already at 37, but we're only at 27 weeks). But, after debate, they decided they really did want me full time now.
It was exhausting. Monday alone had 8 separate phone calls related to this, all during the work day. It's enough to have this CHD issue, but to also have full blown diabetes and a potentially dangerous cord insertion...it's just overwhelming. Every conversation with a healthcare practitioner is complex. They're ready to shotgun an answer about what to do after the first part of the explaination...and then I have to slow them down and say, "yes, and there's also this and this and this going on." As my local OB said...I hit the trifecta of complex pregnancies. Joy!
Admittedly, I got depressed and angry for a day. Pissed off and frustrated. You pick the adjective. But, I've calmed down and realized (after talking to my Dad) that this is a blessing in disguise and now all my care will be seamlessly coordinated at CHOP.
Why did I fight this initially? CHOP is about an hour drive from my office, or 1 1/2 hour drive from home. Considering we're about to begin 2xweek testing, that becomes mighty burdensome on my work schedule. And honestly, I don't have any other energy to offer work in exchange. When I was pregnant with Olivia and had tons of testing for diabetes, I simply worked late on the days I was out of the office. I just can't do that now. First of all...it's more time away. I could easily miss 2-3 hours for each non-stress test day. There's no way I can tack that onto the end of the night twice a week and not exhaust myself. Rock...meet hard place.
Regardless, it's decided. All CHOP, all the time. After this was set in stone, I spent two days out of town traveling for work meetings. I usually really enjoy these trips -- they suit me. But this time was more difficult physically because of the pregnancy and I found it was super difficult to manage my diabetes care. (What I do on the road is meet with donors, which always involves some sort of dining. It's never really possible to excuse myself right before we eat to go into the bathroom for an insulin shot!) But, I'm back now, unpacked and happy to be home. Probably one more trip before the baby arrives, but I'll worry about that in September.
So, needless to say, this has been a complex week. I'm tired and feeling a tad dulled from the whole experience. The weekend is almost here, but already full of tasks and obligations (inlaws and volunteering), so I'm not sure how much rest will really happen. I keep thinking that I have to slow this all down, but it seems so very hard to do with a house to run, a baby to prepare for, and a family to see. Maybe I need to practice saying "no" more often to folks. Never been a strength.
This week, my house of cards fell apart in a flourish. After innumerable calls back and forth between three perinatology offices, my local OB, and CHOP, we finally figured out that nobody but CHOP really wants to deal with my issues. The perinatology group that has treated me up to now, monitoring sugars twice a week and doing all our genetic testing, feels we cannot continue there. The big concern is that once non-stress tests begin, they would have to admit me to a hospital not equipped with a high enough level nicu should I show signs of labor or a problem. I get it...I really do. Do I wish we could have resolved this months ago and not waste hours of time? Sure.
The second choice perinatology group is my local hospital. While they have an appropriate nicu (and would, gasp, be convenient!), they also were inappropriate since they refused to track my sugars/insulin dosing. They would only perform the non-stress tests and wanted to get yet another doctor (endo) involved for the other piece. Never mind.
Meanwhile, folks at CHOP weren't talking to each other and confusing the whole thing by transferring my care over from all of my current providers without my knowledge. Turns out it was by mistake (I think they saw transfer at 37 weeks and mistakenly thought we were already at 37, but we're only at 27 weeks). But, after debate, they decided they really did want me full time now.
It was exhausting. Monday alone had 8 separate phone calls related to this, all during the work day. It's enough to have this CHD issue, but to also have full blown diabetes and a potentially dangerous cord insertion...it's just overwhelming. Every conversation with a healthcare practitioner is complex. They're ready to shotgun an answer about what to do after the first part of the explaination...and then I have to slow them down and say, "yes, and there's also this and this and this going on." As my local OB said...I hit the trifecta of complex pregnancies. Joy!
Admittedly, I got depressed and angry for a day. Pissed off and frustrated. You pick the adjective. But, I've calmed down and realized (after talking to my Dad) that this is a blessing in disguise and now all my care will be seamlessly coordinated at CHOP.
Why did I fight this initially? CHOP is about an hour drive from my office, or 1 1/2 hour drive from home. Considering we're about to begin 2xweek testing, that becomes mighty burdensome on my work schedule. And honestly, I don't have any other energy to offer work in exchange. When I was pregnant with Olivia and had tons of testing for diabetes, I simply worked late on the days I was out of the office. I just can't do that now. First of all...it's more time away. I could easily miss 2-3 hours for each non-stress test day. There's no way I can tack that onto the end of the night twice a week and not exhaust myself. Rock...meet hard place.
Regardless, it's decided. All CHOP, all the time. After this was set in stone, I spent two days out of town traveling for work meetings. I usually really enjoy these trips -- they suit me. But this time was more difficult physically because of the pregnancy and I found it was super difficult to manage my diabetes care. (What I do on the road is meet with donors, which always involves some sort of dining. It's never really possible to excuse myself right before we eat to go into the bathroom for an insulin shot!) But, I'm back now, unpacked and happy to be home. Probably one more trip before the baby arrives, but I'll worry about that in September.
So, needless to say, this has been a complex week. I'm tired and feeling a tad dulled from the whole experience. The weekend is almost here, but already full of tasks and obligations (inlaws and volunteering), so I'm not sure how much rest will really happen. I keep thinking that I have to slow this all down, but it seems so very hard to do with a house to run, a baby to prepare for, and a family to see. Maybe I need to practice saying "no" more often to folks. Never been a strength.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Let's pretend that never happened
Food poisoning? A 24-hour stomach bug?
Whatever it was, it was definitely the most miserable 24 hours of my recent history. Horrid only begins to describe the experience of vomiting, nausea, and whole body aches that were my yesterday. Every time the sea would stop rocking my internal ship, Little Man would flip or kick and start it all over again. So sick for the whole day that I couldn't even call my doctor. Ate a handful of cheerios and a cup of water and generally moaned all day.
Thankfully, today is better. Upright and back at work, although very shaky still. Stomach and back hurt like crazy, but nothing like yesterday. This pregnancy is sure running me ragged!! Only 91 days to go...
Whatever it was, it was definitely the most miserable 24 hours of my recent history. Horrid only begins to describe the experience of vomiting, nausea, and whole body aches that were my yesterday. Every time the sea would stop rocking my internal ship, Little Man would flip or kick and start it all over again. So sick for the whole day that I couldn't even call my doctor. Ate a handful of cheerios and a cup of water and generally moaned all day.
Thankfully, today is better. Upright and back at work, although very shaky still. Stomach and back hurt like crazy, but nothing like yesterday. This pregnancy is sure running me ragged!! Only 91 days to go...
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