Gestational Diabetes

Got the call Saturday to confirm from my doctor that I DO NOT have gestational diabetes (duh).  After three days of separate blood draws after 8 hours fasts, my glucose levels came back as follows:  74, 75, 75.  The normal range is between 70 and 100.  YEAH!  Not even close to the problem zone.

The nurses working in the lab told me how lucky I was that my doctor allowed me to check for GD this way.  Many of the doctors will make you take the one hour test again, or at minimum the three hour test.  NO THANKS.  I know what my body can handle, and I think my doctor realized this, seeing as this was the second pregnancy with the same reaction to the Glucola drink of death.  What I wish I had known in the past is that you can pretty much turn down any test that they want you to take.  It is your body.  Your baby.  If you don’t want to know if there are any birth defects, etc, that is your right.  It obviously would not change the fact that some would still proceed with the pregnancy.

Someone just asked me my due date at work.  I told them April 2.   The lady replied with, “So that means you could really go as early as March 2 if this pregnancy is similar to Kenzie’s, right?”    YIKES.  So yes, it could be less than two months before we have two children under two in our house.  What the fuck were we thinking?

To make things even more fun and exciting, we are going to start potty training our 20 month old.  Because what sounds like more fun than that while 7 months pregnant? I just cannot fathom having two in diapers.   What’s worse is that my husband doesn’t get it.  I think he believes that if we talk to her enough about it, she will just walk over to her little princess potty and pop a squat.  Uh, no.

I explained to him that starting this weekend, she would be walking around without pants or a diaper on.  His response:  I already had to potty train Rory (our dog) like that, I’m not doing that with a human.  We have to be 100% on board with this training method.  Realistically, we should do it when we have a 3 or 4 day weekend.  The good thing is that our babysitter will be on board whenever we are ready to start, so we will have that support too.

I already told him I would be cleaning up the messes out of the potty training potty because it grosses him out.  It’s funny, because he loves cleaning so much.  But when it comes to that stuff, no thanks.  He once accidentally dropped his razor into the toilet, because our cabinet is directly above the toilet (way to plan that).  He wouldn’t get it!  He made me do it.  There was nothing in the toilet, either – just clean water (I know, there are still germs in there, but grow up, man!)   If I wasn’t home, he would have fished it out with a hanger or something, and then thrown everything away (it was a brand new razor – he is insane).

And one more win for momma:  I got my husband to buy a recliner/ rocker.  A crucial component to new motherhood if you are breastfeeding.  I wish I had known ahead of time how important it would have been.  I thought I was doing us a favor and saving us some money.  In the long run, my posture and back suffered BIG TIME.  It’s hard to nurse a tiny little human when you are sitting on a bed or a deep sectional couch.  I felt like the hunchback of Notre Dame after a few months.  And NO, the Boppy did not help me at all.  Maybe my torso is too long/ too short?  Maybe my arms or shoulders weren’t strong enough for feeding on demand CONSTANTLY?  I really don’t know what it was, but I do know that a rocker/ recliner would have solved a lot of my issues with baby #1.  Looking forward to sitting on the rocker and watching Everybody Loves Raymond reruns in the middle of the night with baby #2.  I might even be able to fall asleep in that fancy chair!

 

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Glucose Test – FAIL (2017 Edition)

Happy New Year!  Ready for my resolution?

(1)  Do not get pregnant again.  Ever.

I know what you are thinking.  She’s being dramatic.  Or the ever popular: How dare she hate on pregnancy – doesn’t she know there are many women who can’t have babies on their own?

Judge me all you want.

And now for my final day of 2016, and how I went out with a bang…

I scheduled my glucose test appointment for 7 a.m. on NYE.  I figured, who else would want to voluntarily get blood work done on NYE?   I will be in and out.  And that should have been the case.

In case you want to read about my glucose test with my first pregnancy, because who doesn’t want a good laugh, you can view that here:  Glucose Test – Pregnancy #1

After my last glucose experience, I did a lot of research as to why my body reacted the way it did.  My own not-a-doctor conclusion:  I’m at the opposite spectrum as gestational diabetes.  No one in my family has a history of diabetes.  My last baby did not weigh over 9 lbs.  I did not have substantial weight gain during pregnancy #1, and started this pregnancy off at my pre-pregnancy weight (big thank you to breastfeeding, because there is no time for “exercising” in my house).   So really, no reason to think that this pregnancy is going to be any different, other than the fact that I hope this baby stays put until at least week 37.

So I woke up bright and early that morning, and my husband even woke up to make me eggs.  I had already cleared this with my doctor.  She said eggs, plain greek yogurt, whole wheat toast, would all be good things to have in my stomach prior to drinking the death cola.  Protein.  Just not a bowl of Fruity Pebbles or Count Chocula, to my dismay.

I ate the eggs and a little bit of yogurt.  Then, a familiar feeling of nausea came over me.  “NOT TODAY!  NOT NOW!” was all I could think.  And before I knew it, I had thrown everything up.

It was about 10 minutes before I had to leave for the diagnostic center.  My nerves were setting in.  I grabbed the rest of the yogurt and an english muffin with peanut butter and headed out the door, thinking “if I can stomach just a little of this during my drive, I will be okay during the test”….onward.

I walked in, signed in, and they promptly called me back to drink the death cola.  I had explained to the woman what had happened before, just in case the same thing were to happen.  She was very nice about it and told the secretaries up front so that they could keep an eye on me, just in case.

Side note:  You get 5 minutes to drink the death cola.  I have never been a “chugger” so to speak.  As I’m sipping on the drink, the phlebotomist is just standing there watching me.  So I asked, “Uh, I have five minutes, right?”  And she responded with, “Yes, but I like to tell people to just chug it to get it out of the way”….NO PRESSURE.  What the hell.  Can’t I just sip this nastiness in peace for the five minutes I get?  I don’t think it helped my situation by chugging it.

So I was escorted back to the waiting room, where there were probably three other people waiting.  One of the nice secretaries came up to me and introduced herself.  She said to let her know if I started feeling dizzy or weak.  She also asked me to move so that she could have a better view of me from her seat, so that was nice.   But this also forced me to move to the section where the other people were sitting.  If I was going to pass out or puke, I would prefer to do that in private, thank you.

I brought a book with me this time, “Something Borrowed” – which I love.  I figured it would keep my attention and make me worry less.  So I popped that open and continuously read and reread the first two pages.  What was wrong with me?  So I put the book down and just started looking around the room.  I tried to get comfortable by sitting back a little and letting my arms just lay instead of trying to prop myself up.  I figured any extra form of burning energy would be bad news.

Approximately 20 minutes after I chugged the death cola, I started to feel it – exactly like the last time.  I started to sweat, shake, get dizzy, feel weak…ALL AT THE SAME TIME.  I quickly got the secretary’s attention.  She called the phlebotomist and then proceeded to bring a garbage can over to me.  The phlebotomist appeared seconds later with a wheelchair.  I thought I could hold off on the puking.  WRONG.  Puked my guts out in the waiting room.  And the most embarrassing part.  I managed to piss my own pants.   Every time I heaved, GUSH.  I was soaked by the time everything was out of my system.  Luckily, I was wearing dark jeans, so you couldn’t tell at all.   (PS:  This peeing while vomiting was NOT a thing during my first pregnancy – I assume it is part of the aftermath of pushing a kid out of your body – I also pee when I sneeze now too – RIDICULOUS).  So a big FUCK YOU to 2016.  It was just not my year.

After that, they wouldn’t let me drive myself home.  I was like, “GREAT, now I can call my husband who will have to wake up our daughter (girlfriend gets angry when she is woken up as opposed to waking up on her own), and then proceed to tell him that I need a change of pants because I peed myself in front of a few strangers – what a fantastic way to end 2016″….

Husband was great about it, though.  He even thought to bring me a new pair of underwear, even though I didn’t ask for them.  He bundled little chicky up and arrived about 20 minutes later with my change of clothes.  He didn’t make me feel like a loser, so that was nice.

After he picked me up, we went through the Panera drive thru (that’s how you could tell I really felt like crap – I didn’t want ANYTHING) and got Kenzie a parfait and a few bagels for the next morning.  I went to sleep as soon as I got home, and slept for a good 4 hours.  I got up, ate a little something, and then it was time for Kenzie’s nap.  I napped with her, for another 3 hours.  SO WONDERFUL.  My body clearly needed it.

Interesting website about healthy alternatives to the glucose test and what is in death cola (if your doctor allows, I guess):  Glucose Testing

Moral of the story:  We are only having two kids.  And if I ever start to forget why I said that, I will have this lovely blog to look back on as to why two kids will be our max.  And if I still have baby fever after this one for some reason, I’d like to use the wise words of my late grandma:  “Feel free to push me in front of the 342 PACE bus”

UPDATE:  I had my doctor’s appointment yesterday.  She said that she didn’t want to put me through the 3 hour glucose test, since my body clearly wasn’t handling it well and that she has such high doubts that I fall into the gestational diabetes category.  To satisfy the pediatrician of future baby, I do have to go to have my blood drawn on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday of next week, after fasting for 8 hours (no death cola).  This will just confirm that my levels are where they should be and that we have nothing to worry about.  I’ll take it and consider it a victory that I will never have to take the glucose test again (hopefully).

I also was lucky enough to get my RhoGAM shot yesterday because of my blood type being rh negative.  In the butt.  I will get another one immediately after delivery.  Yayyyy.

Now we are onto our check ups every two weeks.  Yayyyy.  Home stretch?  Nahhh.

 

Thank You For Being a Friend

I remember when I was younger, my Grandma (on my dad’s side) would ask all about my friends.  When I was having a birthday party for friends, she always asked who I was inviting and tried to remember the girls from when she may have seen them at our house in the past.

My Grandma passed away last year, and left a diary to me.  In that diary, she wrote about all of her time spent with my brother and I while we were growing up.  She loved writing and keeping records and dates of things that had happened in the past.  I even remember her having a paper calendar in their kitchen with so many notes scribbled on each small square.  I would read them and question what some things meant when I was younger.  She would write important things, such as birthdays, and other things that were not so important such as, “Seinfeld – funny episode” or “Letterman Top 10 List”…hilarious.

I remember telling her on many occasions that our close knit group of friends would be friends forever.  Oh, what a term!   Even as the years went by, and my group of friends changed, I still felt so strongly that I would remain friends forever with at least some of them, and that we would always be a big part of each other’s lives.  My Grandma was less than encouraging when I told her this!  I remember her saying on many occasions, “You’ll see Melissa, things will be different when you are all adults – you won’t be as close as you think”…this made me SO upset.  And because of that, I was more motivated than ever to beat the odds with my group of friends.

My Grandma is probably laughing at me up in heaven.  I mean, it’s not that I don’t have any friends.  But I’ve learned that as you get older and get into your adult years, get married, have kids, etc, the time that you have to call your own and devote to outside friends is few and far between.  That’s life, but that doesn’t make the reality of it suck any less.

The movie Now & Then is one of my favorite movies.  It came out at the perfect time for my group of friends and I (1995 – and I just realized that was more than 20 years ago – I feel older by the minute these days).  We all tried to pick someone in the movie that we could relate to or looked like, and we would channel that girl.   In the movie, when they fast-forward as adults, Chrissy is pregnant and goes into labor.  I don’t know why, but it always stuck with me that the three other girls were all in the room while she was giving birth (nevermind that one of them was a doctor or that they all just happened to be in town at that time).  I always wanted that for my friendships.  I wanted them to last.  I wanted all of us to live in a cul-de-sac in a small town and watch our kids grow up together and become the same kind of friends.  Hahaha, I was SO dumb and young.

I even thought about it as I was in labor with my daughter.  Don’t get me wrong, my husband was great and all that I needed at that time.  And maybe it’s just part of growing up. What I failed to realize in the movie (the movie that is not real life – I have to keep reminding myself of this) is that these women probably all went their separate ways and just HAPPENED to be back for one big event.  I’m sure they didn’t gab on the phone every day and see each other every month, let alone every year.  So goes the term, adulting.

I mean, we had all the time in the world when we were growing up.  No jobs (aside from one of our guy friends who pretended to caddy) or commitments other than babysitting (I’ll save the Babysitters Club for another post).  We spent our summer days riding our bikes around town, trying to get lost, buying 13 pieces of candy for a dollar, swimming, dancing, creating babysitter clubs, etc because we didn’t have jobs to worry about, or anything else of importance.   We were lucky to have each other when we did.  I’m sure not all adults look back happily at their childhood.  So instead of being sad that I don’t have some of those friendships now, I will choose to be happy that I can one day share the memories when my kids are old enough, and hopefully give them that same carefree childhood.

Until then, I will watch Now & Then and remember how great I had it growing up 🙂

BuzzFeed Now & Then

Sidenote:  I had no idea Bonnie Hunt was in this movie until just recently.  Hilarious.

 

 

Worst Mom #445

I’m not really counting the reasons why I am sometimes a bad mom.  My numbering system is probably pretty accurate, though.

Anyhow, this happened a few weeks ago on a Friday.  I picked up Kenzie from the babysitter’s house after another fun-filled day at work.

I put her in the car seat and noticed she dropped her doll’s pacifier.  Of course.  So I start looking all over for it.  Can’t find it.  Distracted her with some pretzels.  Good to go.

So, I’m driving along and we get to a light about 10 minutes later.  Just a block away from getting on the expressway.  I look back at little chicky in my rear view mirror (we have one of those mirrors on her seat in the back since she is still rear-facing) and see that she is proudly STANDING UP facing me with a huge smile on her face.  YEP, I forgot to buckle her in because I was so distracted looking for the dumb fake pacifier.  I immediately start looking around to see where I can pull into quickly to get her strapped in.  There is a White Castle just a few feet ahead and I just need to turn right to get into the parking lot.  Perfect.

At the same time, I am telling Kenzie sternly “SIT DOWN”, to which she just laughs and smiles because she knows what she has accomplished.  Completely ignores me.

The light turns green, and I slowly start to turn into the White Castle parking lot.  I look in the mirror as I am doing this and watch Kenzie do a little cartwheel and fall over onto the seat next to her.  OMG.  She starts whining/ fake crying.  I ask, “Are you okay?!”  To which she replies, “Yeah” (in the saddest tone ever – hilarious).  So I get her all buckled in (against her will of course, because now she knows what freedom is like in the car), and away we go while she cried for the duration of the trip.  What a heart attack!  So thankful we were not on the expressway going 70 mph when it happened.  I am a moron.

Stay tuned for more bad mom stories, I’m sure they’ll be coming.  Especially with pregnancy brain over here.

 

20 more weeks of hell

Alright.  I give up.  I had a good run for a few weeks.  I had to practically run another employee our of restroom.

Now, for the second time in a week, I am getting sick mid-day.  At 20 weeks pregnant.  With an 18 month old to take care of.  And a full-time job to work.

I don’t even need to look at the ultrasound picture that my dear husband has been hiding from me.  I know it’s another girl.  Won’t need to focus on boy names.  Great.  Time saved.  And if anyone else asks me, “Well what if you don’t get your boy this time, aren’t you going to try again?”…STRAIGHT TO THE MOON.

I’m not really into rooting for one gender over the other, as long as the kid is healthy and not having to spend time in the NICU.  So the answer is NO, I don’t really give a shit if our last name moves on for another generation.  If we can raise two competent (or semi competent human beings), I consider that a success.

Going for a third, in my opinion, would be like tempting fate for us.  Mike already blames me for giving him Shingles last year.  *for the record, I did not give him Shingles, though he believes that I am the reason that caused them because I am so difficult and cause him so much stress in life (in the midst of trying to take care of a colicky newborn and trying to recover from a little thing called childbirth).  I should have made labor and delivery look much more difficult, but I can tolerate pain and managed it well.  Too well.  So next time, I’m putting on much more of a show.

Long story short, a third kid would both put us in the poor house, and likely set up impending divorce because I would be able to get even less housework done than I do now (which isn’t that much, truth be told).  Call me a negative nancy, but I value my relationship with my husband.  I know there are couples out there who can/ want to do it, and maybe that will in turn make their relationship stronger.  We are not that couple.  We still want to travel (with and without kids), and we want to be able to retire at a decent age and not have to worry about kids still living with us.  And I need to get myself a more challenging job.  This job is perfect for when the kiddos are tiny humans, but once they are in full day school, I’m out.  Call me selfish, but I would expect my kids to do the same thing.  Some women are made to be stay at home moms – and more power to you.  Some women have to work to keep their sanity.  I am one of those women.

Thanks for listening to me bitch.  Fingers crossed for a better evening and few days/ weeks ahead.

PS:  I’m already listening to Christmas music and LOVING it.   It works when I’m trying to drown out the terrible music and voices of certain co-workers.

PPS:  I asked my doctor if I would be required to take the shitty glucose test again with this child since I clearly am not at risk for gestational diabetes, per my last test and pregnancy.  She said yes, absolutely.  COOL.  So I asked her if I could eat a little something beforehand this time, because I’m not really into passing out.  To my surprise, she told me yes!  But she said to keep it to things without sugar.  So, eggs, whole grain toast…things like that would be good.  Totally doing that this time.  SCREW THE GLUCOSE TEST.  DAMN THE MAN.

My Fellow Americans

“There was only one assassination attempt on me.  You had three” – from one of my very favorite movies – My Fellow Americans.  Politics will always be politics.  I will always be excited for election day and watching the votes as they come in, state by state.  Especially local elections, obviously.  Probably because I’ve always wanted to run for office, or because I’ve worked in local government.

I refuse to post on Facebook about the election, so I will take to my blog in an effort to vent about the morons on Facebook.  I swear it was better when social media didn’t exist.  People are seriously ready to jump off bridges.  To me, it is comical.  I read a few posts late last night and early this morning, and it just kills me how dramatic everyone is being.

“I am so glad that I don’t have kids.  It’s going to be a challenge to raise them in the next four years”

“I am crying right now because I am worried about my children’s futures”

“Is this really happening right now?”

“What a sad day for the world”

And my personal favorite, from someone in the office today, “I’m just worried that we’re going to get nuked”

GROW THE FUCK UP, PEOPLE.

Guess what?  It’s going to be a challenge to raise your kid no matter who is in office.  BECAUSE YOU ARE THEIR PARENT.  Hardest job in the world.  But that’s no reason to not have kids.  Things could always be worse.  We don’t live in a third world country where food and clean water is unavailable to us.  Our kids’ futures are what we as parents put into them.  I can tell you that President Obama did not help me at all with baby #1 or how I have raised her up to this point, and none of his policies burdened/ benefited my family in the process.  Unless you want to count the fact that paid FMLA is still not mandated, in which case, every president has sucked up to this point.  Although I can appreciate that he recently signed a law mandating changing tables in BOTH men’s and women’s restrooms alike.  That will benefit moms and dads everywhere.  Other than that – no impact. Business as usual.

Guess what?  The entire U.S. is not automatically considered racist because Trump was elected.  Evidently, the majority of this country wants change.  SHOCKER.  There are other reasons people voted for Trump, and I’m sure the majority of people didn’t do so in hopes of a wall going up or demeaning women.  But they probably agreed with some of his other views, which would directly impact their family for the better, and voted for him.

Let’s try to stay positive and realize that we are not doomed for the next four years.

Everything is going to be okay.    And if it’s not, we will unify and work through it together, like we always do.  Because that is the beauty of living in America.

“Hail to the chief, if you don’t, I’ll have to kill you. I am the chief, so you better watch your step, you bastards.”

 

 

The First Ear Infection

Last Thursday was easily the worst night/ morning we have EVER had with Kenzie.  Even counting her colicky stage.

At one point, I said to Mike (over screaming cries):  “We should just give this other child to your sister or something, I don’t think I’m equipped to handle two – I’m not cut out for this”  I was obviously joking, but it was so bad!  She wouldn’t even take any medicine because she was hysterical the entire time.  Just a little Tylenol would have helped the situation immensely, given she probably had terrible pain in her ear.

She eventually tired herself out around 9 and wanted to eat something (just jello), but then she was walking around like normal and laughing for about 45 minutes.  WHAT THE HELL.  I think she is good to go (if I were smart, I would have given her some tylenol in those 45 minutes of calm), and we head up to bed.  I lay her down.  THE WORLD IMPLODES.

Long story short, she finally went to bed at 4:30 a.m. because she just couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore.  She slept on my chest for a few hours before waking up for the day.

It is the ABSOLUTE WORST when your kid can’t tell you what is wrong.  I know everyone says that after your child starts talking in full sentences, you wish it would go back because they won’t shut up, but I am just so excited to soon be able to hold little conversation with her.  Her personality is so fun – she’s going to comical to talk with, if nothing else.

So, as soon as I am able to the next morning, I call her doctor’s office to get her in.  This was on a Friday.  The one downside to her pediatrician’s office is that they are closed on the weekends.  You have your ped’s cell phone number if you need to contact him or her, but of course, you feel like it has to be an absolute emergency to call them and you feel terrible doing it (I’ve done this twice, and he always sounds like he’s at a party – never rude or annoyed though).  It still sucks.

I get her an appointment at 10 a.m.   Another day I had to take off.  My boss is great about it, since he has four kids of his own.  But all I can focus on are my extra paid maternity leave days slipping away.  That’s okay, though, because I was there when my daughter needed me most.

The doctor checks her right ear first.  My biggest worry is that she’s going to say, “well, it’s probably just teething – just something you have to work through”….and then my head would have exploded.  Instead, she looks in the first ear and says, “Ooh, that one is definitely infected” – and checks the other one and says, “and this one is trying to get infected too”….A little bit of relief washes over me.  WHAT KIND OF PARENT IS HAPPY WHEN A DOCTOR TELLS THEM THEIR KID HAS AN EAR INFECTION?!  I was just so happy that there was a reason behind her hours and hours of crying.

So on the Amoxicillin she went!  18 months was a good run without needing any antibiotics.  For the record, she starting acting like her crazy self again almost immediately.  I hope the next time her ear hurts, she is just able to tell us 🙂

And to end this completely off-topic, the show “This is Us” is nowhere close to being as good as “Parenthood” was.  I just finished watching what I think was the 4th or 5th episode.  I find myself fast forwarding through much of the story lines (both brothers when they are in present times).  I have only been watching the overweight sister’s segments, and that ends up being like 15 minutes of the show and even that annoys me.  Get it together, NBC.  Nothing will ever replace Parenthood, so just bring it back, please.

PS:  I remembered to wear deodorant today and even got to shower!  Success all around.  And ultrasound is tomorrow to find out gender.  A big week for us all.  Stay tuned!