The Big LEEP.

Well, yesterday I went in for my LEEP procedure. Andrew drove me there in the morning for ten o'clock. I was still pretty nervous about the whole thing but I felt OK going in, honestly. I knew it had to happen and would probably not take very long so I just decided to grit my teeth and bear it.

And it would have been completely bearable except for the fact that, because Princess Margaret's is a teaching hospital, someone who was still learning performed the anaesthesia and the procedure. She either did not use enough anaesthesia or put it in the wrong spot because when they started the procedure I felt it.

The injections did sting, but it wasn't all that bad. I was surprised, then, that I started feeling really faint and dizzy and everything started sounding weird in my ears. They waited for it to pass, then once I was feeling all right started the LEEP.

I'd been told to expect a feeling of heat, which I did immediately feel. Then I started to feel pain which surprised me since they'd said that the injection of anaesthesia would be the worst part and I'd feel all right after that. My brain kind of went like this:

"Yep, heat. Huh. Hmmm. ow. ow. ow. owowow. Ow. Ow. OW. OWOWOW."

I quickly said I was feeling pain and they stopped, then talked a bit. The doctor told the student not to go so deep on the next pass, then they started again. This time it was immediately painful and I nearly jumped. I'd been told not to jump since they were using a crazy cauterizing tool inside my body and things could go very badly. I again said I could feel what they were doing and at this point started crying a bit which embarrassed me pretty badly. But man, it hurt. So. Much.

They gave me another shot and while it helped I still felt the rest of the procedure, but it was more like an aching feeling than a searing pain. I'm not sure why it was so painful since I've been told there aren't nerve endings in the cervix, but survey (of my cervix) seems to say otherwise.

I'm glad it's over, but I've been feeling a bit silly about how traumatized I feel. I think my strong reaction was specifically because I was so relieved when the needles were over, then found out that it could get a whole lot worse. I'm just crossing my fingers that I don't have to have another one!

A different kind of leeping.

I haven't been very writely lately, I know. Things are OK, but I've been stressing out about a certain something and trying to write about anything else just wasn't working for me. I'd start stuff and never finish it.

Anyone who's been reading this blog from the beginning might remember that when I had my first OBGYN visit after finding out I was pregnant he did a pap smear (of course) and that there were abnormal cells present. He saw the results as serious enough to send me to Princess Margaret hospital to have a colposcopy done by a doctor who specializes in treating cancer during pregnancy.

So she did the colposcopy back in December and scheduled me to have another one in mid-March to see if the bad patches had spread. The big wrench in that plan happened when Essie was born on March 3rd almost three months early and I missed the appointment. As soon as I realized what had happened I tried to contact the clinic, but it proved very difficult, for some reason. Calling the hospital and trying to get transferred to the correct office was a bunch of fail because every time they'd transfer me I'd end up on a line that rang and rang but never went to an answering machine or was picked up by a human.

When I went to see my OBGYN for my post-partum checkup I told him about my difficulties and he gave me a different number to call. Awesome. So I started calling that number and it went to an answering machine for a few different doctors, at which I left pleading messages to call me back so I could make a new followup appointment. These messages went unanswered for quite a long time, then finally I called the general hospital number again and wouldn't let the woman transfer me until she could assure me that she was doing so to a number with real people on the other end.

Someone answered! And told me to call a different number, but this woman did go to the trouble of pulling up my patient number and giving it to me, instructing me to leave that information next time I left a message. So that's what I did, and I waited some more. I left maybe one or two more messages, but finally someone called me back and told me I could make an appointment! O, happy day.

I did so, and they scheduled me for September 8th. I ended up also getting my tattoo done on that day and was quite honestly more nervous about the tattoo since I knew that a colposcopy doesn't hurt in the slightest. So they did their thing and checked it all out and said that things weren't looking bad at all, but decided to do a biopsy for the sake of being thorough. That made me nervous but it ended up not hurting at all, either. The tattoo was much more painful!

I wasn't too terribly worried. The doctor had been quite casual about what she was seeing with her naked eye, saying it didn't look worrisome at all. So I was actually a bit shocked when I got the results and they told me I have severe cervical dysplasia, otherwise known as high grade squamous intraepithelial lesions or carcinoma in situ. All very scary-sounding. When they did the biopsy they'd scheduled me for a treatment in case things did end up worse than they appeared, and I'm thankful for that now. I'm going in for a loop electrical excision procedure (LEEP). That, my friends, is a loop of electrified wire used as a knife to cut away the offending pre-cancerous hot spots on my cervix. Also very scary-sounding, although they use local anaesthetic to make sure I don't feel anything during.

Dudes, I am so freaking nervous about this procedure. In the last year I have pretty much lost all fear of needles WRT them taking my blood, putting in an IV or giving me some kind of shot in my muscle. The thing I'm most nervous about for this procedure is the locality of the anaesthetic. OW. I'm not looking forward to the needles they're going to give me to freeze the area. Not at all. Not one little bit. I am what you call somewhat terrified. Electrified cauterizing wire used as a blade? I'm not going to feel that one! I'll feel the impalement of my inner bits and I'm sad.

I know. Suck it up, be grateful this was caught before it was full-blown cancer, be thankful there's treatment and I should be fine. I'm thankful, but still scared.

Owie. But also some stuff to be grateful for.

I haven't written in a bit because I had a week from hell and haven't felt much like getting out of bed, much less writing. At first I was all, 'Oh, I won't talk about it, it's so unladylike and so very unbecoming,' but on second thought I don't really care. I'll still try to use euphemistic language so as not to offend anyone's delicate sensibilities, but other than that ... hah.

So I've been having a week of uterus pirhanas and it's been driving me insane. Since having Essie PMS has been twice as bad (maybe more, since it wasn't something I suffered from much before and I considered myself lucky.) My usual depression/anxiety combo kicks into extreme overdrive and I feel like the world is ending and there is no hope for the future for anyone, ANYONE. So far I've been thinking I'm lucky since I'm not having 24/7 postpartum or anything like that, but the week leading up to the event is quite ungood in my brain. And during the actual event? Phyisical pain like crazy.

It's tiresome and I do not want. It's yet another reason to add to the list of countable blessings with regard to having a happy, low-fuss baby. If I felt like this and had to deal with hours of screaming or sleeplessness I'm sure I'd be looking for bridges or tall buildings right quick, but Essie is so very, very good. I also often feel awkward talking about that, like I should somehow not bring it up in case I'm perceived as bragging and thus alienating anyone reading who has to deal with a baby with colic or whatnot, but I have to give this kid her props. She's posessed of an extreme good nature and I appreciate her for it every single day. Taking it for granted? Not over here.

So, that's my last couple of weeks emotionally in a nutshell. LUCKY for me there was some extreme goodness in there. My family threw me an awesome baby shower last weekend. La hosted it and did all the prep work and inviting and whatnot (because she's so incredibly awesome and beautiful.) It was full of moms and aunts and uncles and cousins and sisters and in-laws and nieces and nephews. It was co-ed (obviously) and was a BLAST. It was also hot. Really, seriously hot. Essie spent the whole time in just a diaper, even though I'd originally dressed her in a sweet pink sundress and sandals. Most of the rest of us wished we could sit around in just our unders, but it just wouldn't have been right so we all stayed clothed and envied the freedom of pink, innocent babies.

Speaking of pink, innocent babies here she is sitting in her brand new Bumbo at the shower:



SO CUTE. She's got her frog in there with her to help her fit a bit better since she's still just a teeny bit small for it. Not for long, though!

The poop that ate TCAF.

Since late yesterday Essie had been a bit fussier than usual. After eating she falls into a comfortable sleep and usually stays that way until she's ready to eat again. Since last night, though, she'd been squirming and complaining even after eating, throwing up a lot more than I'm used to from her and generally seeming unhappy. She's been pooping almost alarmingly well since coming home from St. Mike's. I was worried that she had something wrong in there, actually, since pooping hasn't always been her strong suit and she often had to try pretty hard to poop once a day. But no; she'd been pooping all day, every day and nothing solid at all.

I know. This is gross. IDWIYO has been all boobs and poop these days.

Anyhow, she hadn't pooped since sometime in the afternoon yesterday and as the night went on she got fussier and more complainy. I'd been planning to sleep at night since today was the first day of TCAF and we'd been planning to go to it. I really, REALLY wanted to meet some of my favourite webcomic artists in person and buy some of their merch. Instead of sweetly sleeping, though, Essie slept very lightly, keeping up a running low-grade grumble. I don't know about you, but running low-grade grumbles aren't exactly a relaxing sound for me so I was not really sleeping so much as trying to sleep and ignore the grumble. Then when she got hungrier she'd ramp it up to a squeaky growl, which is an even less relaxing sound.

By the time Andrew got up for the day I was exhausted and sad, having only managed to grab a few minutes worth of sleep here and there between Essie's feedings and diaper changes. I had reached the point of tiredness where nothing really matters but just getting some damn sleep already, so I was like, "TCAF or sleep? I choose SLEEP before I cry."

So, I stayed home with our grumbly, poopless daughter, convinced that I'd never sleep and she'd never poop, that she'd forgotten how to do it and would require medical intervention every time poop needed to come out. Andrew went out to get some necessities, then came home where poop had still not appeared and sleep was still not succeeding, then went back out to see TCAF.

Mid-afternoon? She pooped. A giant poop, a triumphant poop, a poop that fulfilled the purpose of her diaper like no poop has ever done. So there was poop, there was a cessation in low-grade grumbling, and then after a bottle and some snuggling there was some sleep! I had to get up after some sleep because she yet again needed feeding and diaper changing and snuggling so was awake when Andrew came in the door, flush with stories of all my favourite webcomic artists and how nice and wonderful they are. I'd say a name and he'd be all, "Yeah, we talked. He/she is really nice!"

And they were really nice and a few signed some merch for me and my most favourite even said she'd send me some buttons as a Mother's Day gift! Of course at this point because I'd had some sleep and Essie was back to her usual mostly-content self I was petulantly sad that I hadn't been able to go to TCAF after all. So we're considering going for a few minutes before our drive to Kingston tomorrow so I can bask in the glow of the Dumbrella/Topatoco crew and probably buy even more merch. If you want your favourite webcomic artists to stick around making webcomics, you have to support them!

P.S. Notice how when she poops I'm worried that there's something wrong, and when she doesn't poop I'm worried that there's something wrong? Yeah.

More woe in B**bland.

While Essie was at St. Mike's I was concerned about the supply of milk they had on hand for her. When we transferred there WCH sent over a bag of bottles of stocked milk left over from what I'd pumped for them and I was surprised at the size of it since I'd actually thought they'd have less. Then my supply got low for a bit there after the transfer and one day I asked Essie's nurse how much they had left. She LIED to me and said only what I'd brought in since the day before, which was about eight 80ml bottles worth.

I didn't know she was a LIAR so this freaked me out. I had given them permission to give Essie formula if they ever ran out of my milk, but I still figured it was optimal for her diet to stay the same. So, I did my best to keep pumping and bringing milk in and while I wasn't getting huge amounts, my supply did improve a bit. I estimated that I was meeting her daily needs just barely with what I was bringing in.

You can imagine my surprise on the day we took Essie home and a nurse came out with a big old bag of frozen breast milk and handed it to me. It looked to be about as much as had been sent over by WCH, and it turned out that it was mostly made up of the milk I'd expressed there. There was some newer stuff in there, but not much. So, it appeared they'd been using the newer stuff I was pumping and leaving the older (but still good) milk. I have no idea why; all I know is that they LIED TO ME and said they were out of milk when really they had a good supply on hand.

Whatever the reason, I am actually very thankful to have this bag of milk because things have been difficult in the land of breastfeeding. Essie is still having no success with nursing at all, and I've been having supply problems yet again. I'm trying to express after every feeding but it's not encouraging right now.

In the interests of trying to make it work I visited the La Leche League International website to see what they had to say. There is some awesome advice there on getting resistant babies to nurse and it was comforting to read that it's not that she doesn't want to nurse. I can tell that she'd nurse if she could figure it out since she roots and makes all the physical signals that tell me so. Anyhow, there was a lot of good stuff to read and I plan to put a lot of it into practice.

In doing my research there, though, I came across some things that upset me a bit. LLL is known for their strict stance on breastfeeding and only breastfeeding and they are big believers in nipple confusion. They don't think a baby should be introduced to any kind of fake nipples at all and that doing so will result in the baby getting turned off of the real thing since it's actually a bit more work for them to nurse for real rather than bottle feed. Fake nipples include both bottle nipples and soothers.

Before Essie made her dramatic appearance I was not convinced I'd encourage her to use a soother at all. However, she came early and had to endure being a preemie. The reason preemies are given soothers when they're in a NICU is so that they'll have a form of self-soothing since they're so isolated from the regular physical comfort and touch that most humans receive at birth. Do you think that there is any way on this planet that I'd hear that and say, "Oh, no, please don't give her a soother. I don't want her to be able to comfort herself if it means difficulty when I try to nurse her later."

Is that honestly a choice to some mothers? If there are mothers out there who would choose that over their premature, sick little baby having a way to comfort themselves during a painful, frightening time then I seriously would like to put the beatdown on them.

Oh, sorry, am I being NORMATIVE? I might be. But as much as this breastfeeding frustration sucks, I'm sure that being born too soon, intubated, stuck with IV pokes all over her arms and feet, having repeated painful eye exams, feeding tubes stuck down her throat, having to wear an uncomfortable CPAP and enduring many, many other things I wasn't even aware of sucked EVEN WORSE for Shaughnessy and she didn't even have the perspective of knowing why it was all happening. All she had was whatever instinctive physical defense she was capable of.

If they'd told me that the only form of comfort possible for her was a bong hit every hour, you'd better believe I'd have been in there lighting it up for her.

The baby has landed.

Essie's home now. She's been home since yesterday morning, and we 'roomed in' overnight on Friday night. The rooming in went pretty well all things considered, if you consider that taking care of our daughter was the first priority and sleep was definitely the second! We managed to grab a few hours of sleep each, but not much. Also, a real cold finally decided to hit me that very night. Not one of the 'oh, maybe I'm a cold, maybe I'm not' things that have been plaguing me since she was born. No; a real, no-kidding cold.

Coming home, though, was lovely. We rented a car for the weekend to make things a bit easier for the first couple of days and you should have seen us on the drive from the hospital. Giddy with happiness and love for our little family unit, thrilled to be united at last. Bringing her into the apartment was strange, strange strange and the reality hit pretty dang fast. Like any newborn, Essie's schedule is eat, sleep, diaper change, eat, sleep, diaper change, eat, sleep, diaper change. She goes approximately three hours between feeds, so my entire focus has been on following this schedule and grabbing sleep when she's sleeping (after I've expressed milk, maybe eaten some food, had something to drink, possibly gone to the washroom. I hear tell I might even have a shower someday!)

In a very unexpected development my girl has decided she wants NOTHING to do with my boobs. I'm not talking simply bare boob, here. I mean she seems to suddenly hate the nipple shield with a tiny grunty passion. Whenever I attempt it she gets furious and overwrought and finally I just get a bottle and bottle-feed her because girlfriend needs to eat! She still isn't latching on enough to eat without the nipple shield, so this is a project we'll have to revisit a little later on when things have settled down. She has her first pediatrician's appointment tomorrow and I'll be damned if I go in there with a baby that's lost weight.

In all honesty this last day has been extremely difficult. Even without the cold it would have been, I'm sure, but it's been rough. I've been feverish and coughing and sneezing and throwing up and even with Andrew's considerable help I've found myself wondering how this parenting thing can be manageable long term.

The answer, of course, is that it won't be like this long term and that every new parent goes through this sudden reality-check of actually having a baby to care for around the clock. I will get over this cold, she will gradually go longer between feedings over the months and then start sleeping through the night (hopefully; I'm not dumb enough to think that's any sort of guarantee!) She's going to change so fast and I'll find myself looking back and missing with everything in me the tiny, perfect being that she is in this very moment. I'm disappointed that I got sick for these first, formative days together because I'm already realizing that I hardly remember the many details of what the last 24-plus hours have been like.

What I will remember is how it felt to instinctively hold her near me when I'd crash out with her on the sofa during her sleeps. My own head spinning and sore and stuffed up, but all my senses focused on her breathing and how perfect her round little cheeks are. I'll also remember the painful reality that struck each time her hungry grunts would wake me up too soon from a desperately needed nap. There is no choice. Baby must eat, baby is our baby, we're the ones who have to sustain her. That's life, momma.

So I guess yet another chapter in this weird blog now begins. We'll see how regular my updates are now, but I guarantee I'll have a lot to share when I do!

Glimpsing the bottom of the well.

I'm so thankful that I told the nurses that it was OK to bottle feed Shaughnessy. Since the night before last I've had a scratchy throat, sinus pain and an on-again, off-again slight fever. It doesn't feel all that serious but the presence of symptoms like this keeps me out of the nursery where my daughter still lives and that makes me very sad. Even worse it keeps me from breastfeeding my girl, but at least she's being bottle-fed which keeps up her practice at suck-and-swallow.

They did make some worried noises about how much breastmilk they have on hand and feel that they're running low. I wouldn't be overly concerned but my milk supply has decided to get less plentiful over the last week and I'm not quite sure why. If it does happen that they find themselves out at some point I'll give them permission to give her formula, but I'm hoping it doesn't come to that. She's never had formula and the sudden switch would probably give her gas for miles, not to mention worse constipation than the poor little bug already has.

Mostly it's a selfish worry, though. She's at what is considered full-term with regards to her gestational age. Drinking formula is pretty much a non-issue at this point. Being able to express milk for her and know that all of her sustenance came directly from me was a major source of comfort for me during the time when there wasn't anything more concrete I could do for her. I couldn't cuddle her, I couldn't comfort her, I couldn't even really touch her much, but by golly I could pump! Even if I hated physically doing it, I was glad to do something so maternal for her.

Now that I can hold her, interact with her and even breastfeed her directly it's not as emotionally necessary, but I'm still a bit freaked out. I didn't have to put much effort into keeping up my milk supply, and suddenly it is betraying me! The nurses at both hospitals were/are very pro-breastmilk and although they're not explicitly anti-formula (and I am decidedly NOT anti-formula) I have overheard disparaging comments about it. I don't want to be disparaged! I'm already paranoid enough about seeming like I'm not a good enough or caring enough parent.

Anyhow, it's just something new for me to freak out about and poke at with my brain. I'm stepping up my pumping/expressing a bit to try to stimulate more milk production but if anything I've seemed to be getting even less as a result. I do not know what this is all about. What up, boobs. I'll have to chat with the lactation consultant at St. Mike's, someone I have not yet met. Reports to follow on whether she is terrifying.

One step back.

Shaughnessy had a bit of a setback this week. When I went in to see her on Monday I thought she looked a bit pale and seemed listless. They set me up with her to do Kangaroo Care and throughout the whole time I held her she kept having little spells where her breathing was too slow or stopped. I'd have to rub her back to remind her to take a breath whenever this happened. This was VERY unlike her, as was her paleness and general lack of energy.

Andrew had arrived while I was holding her and we were told by the nurses that it was possible that she could have an infection of some kind setting in. We were very upset to hear this, of course, since she'd been doing so well up to this point and we honestly aren't used to getting any bad news, just consistent reports of her good progress. So bad news is out of the ordinary, something that not all parents of preemies are lucky enough to experience.

They also mentioned that if it wasn't an infection it could be that she was tiring herself out from being off the CPAP altogether and had hit the wall. They decided to put her on low-flow air, run some bloodwork and see if an infection was the problem, but in the meantime pretty much sent us home to let her rest. It was getting late anyhow so we went, worried and concerned for our little girl.

Thankfully when I talked to her nurse the next day it was good news. There was no sign of any infection, and they'd put her back on the CPAP. Since going back on it she'd had no more breathing interruptions and was getting her colour and energy back. So; in the end even though Shaughnessy thinks she doesn't need to be on the CPAP, she obviously does and her stubbornness will not change that fact. Breathing entirely on her own is still a bit of an effort for her little lungs which is understandable, given that she's not even supposed to be using them yet!

This does mean she's staying in the level 3 NICU until she's breathing on her own but we're just so thankful that there's nothing wrong with her that we're OK with it! The CPAP is at most a bit uncomfortable at times. It doesn't have any adverse effects other than some frustration for her, so I'm grateful to see her with it on rather than her having to fight off an illness!

Writing from my deathbed.

Oh, man. I have been sick all week long. I'd felt something lurking for most of the week before and it hit on the weekend. It seems to be at most a seriously bad cold but it's getting old at this point. Bah.

It's why I haven't been writing much this week. A) It's boring to read about other people's snotty colds and B) I just haven't had much energy for it. So I've kept my writing to boo-hooing in Facebook and Twitter status updates about how sick and gross I am.

I have run into the Maalox condundrum, however, of timing my pregnancy-related heartburn relief with cold relief and other medication. Maalox (and other antacids) interfere with the effectiveness of medications if taken close together so I have to decide if I want relief from heartburn over relief from head-pounding stuffiness and sinus pain. It's a testament to how bad the heartburn is that I'll often choose the Maalox over the Tylenol because having to wait a few hours seems impossible. Admittedly I am trying to take as little as possible of the Tylenol Cold, even though it's supposed to be all safe and stuff.

Taking pills is no big deal for me. Some people gag on pills but I can knock back a handful at a time as long as I have a glass of water to wash them down. (Not that I've ever knocked back a handful, of course, but my re-reading of that last sentence tips me off that it sounds a bit alarming.) Ahem. Yes, I can take multiple pills at a time and not blink. Chewables, however, are another story and the Maalox are just plain old gross. They're mint which makes it better, but they don't really go anywhere while you're chewing them. They just get foamy and sit there in the same spot where you're chewing them, like they have a memory of the shape they were in and want to stay that way. It squicks me out like nobody's business and you can bet that I'm so relieved you're supposed to wash them down with water because swallowing that mess dry would be nearly impossible. Because it's not really dry; it's a pasty almost-gel that clings to every surface ack ick ugh!

O, this is the grossest entry. The baby is still kicking in there despite its momma lolling about like a serious invalid and hacking up a lung or two. I've been forcing food down as much as I can so that baby Jeanes is getting, like, vitamins and stuff and taking my pre-natals and making sure to keep aware of movement and all that. S/he's pretty consistent with when and what makes her/him kicky. Six a.m. aerobics are still a go, me on my left side always results in some irritated shoving around unless I am laying there just so, and random spazzes throughout the afternoon and evening are common. I think my coughing over the last day or so has been a bit alarming for the poor thing, but there's not a lot I can do about that, unfortunately.

Yeah, OK. I think I've exhausted my non-news for now. Things are good despite my having the plague. Andrew is going away for a little travel trip of about 24 hours so maybe by the time he gets back on Friday night I'll be somewhat less gross. Here's hoping!

Ottawa update.

Hellooooo! We've been in Ottawa since Thursday night. I STILL haven't seen Alannah and the kids and that makes me sad, but we've settled on tomorrow night being the night, after all the wedding festivities have ended.

We HAVE seen Colin and Jen and all the other wedding participants. Friday night was the wedding rehearsal and dinner, and for the rehearsal I stood in for one of the bridesmaids who couldn't be there. I was Fake Kim, and it was fun. I was a bit worried that it would mess with my back to stand around a lot, but it ended up doing a number on my sciatica leg instead, which is not something I can blame on baby Jeanes at all. It's very handy to be able to blame ailments on pregnancy, you know.

Baby Jeanes was super active all the way from Toronto to Ottawa. I don't know if it was my posture or bumps in the road or what, but that baby was busy. It was funny, since I actually think s/he's pretty mellow compared to stories I've heard of other babies who were constantly active while hanging out inside their moms. But yeah; riding in a vehicle seems to provoke lots of movement. If I ever get worried that s/he's not moving I'll try to get a ride somewhere and see what happens.

I did attempt to find maternity clothes today but was not so successful. Andrew and I went to the Bayshore mall because they were having a sale on shirts at The Bay and he needed to buy a shirt to go with his tie for the wedding. I figured I'd check their maternity section first and go from there if I couldn't find anything, but it turned out that they don't have a maternity section at all at that location. So I checked out Thyme Maternity in the mall but all their stuff was very casual. Mom had told me of some maternity stores in town but by the time we got out of the mall it was too late to do any more shopping.

I guess I'll make do with the outfit I bought last week which is really not bad at all. Still, my impression of maternity clothes so far has been that they are not very much to my tastes. They DO make one look pregnant, though, which I proved by wearing a maternity shirt for the first time the other day and being told multiple times that I suddenly look quite pregnant. The a-line cut really accentuates that baby belly, I guess!

Not much else to tell. I do have a funny story about our shopping experience at The Bay, but I'll make a separate post about it since I don't have the energy to write much more tonight. I's tired and need my beauty sleep since we have to be somewhere at 7:30 tomorrow morning!

Kick the kitty!

In a development of extreme suckage I think the morning sickness is flirting with me a little bit, still. I wasn't too sure about it since the heartburn has been making me feel gaggy, but in the last day the heartburn has calmed down somewhat and I've noticed that the nausea is still there. Hrm. Go away, nausea. You have no place here in my beloved second trimester!

I still have some Diclectin left and this is nowhere near the feeling I had in the first trimester so I'm not panicking. Just giving it a very stern look.

Yeah, the heartburn got pretty epic over the last five or so days and I was sad about that. Andrew reminded me that raw or blanched almonds are supposed to be helpful for that so he came home from the store with two big packages of them for me. I think they might actually be helping! Since I started eating them I've definitely taken fewer Tums and had a bit more success with sleeping. The heartburn kept waking me up after at most three hours of sleep and I'd have to do something to try to deal with it instead of being able to drop back off so my sleep was all jacked up. So there's been a bit of an improvement there, at least!

Shelley is really starting to notice the baby kicks now when he's purring on me on the sofa. He'll look up at me a little quizzically when there's a particularly strong thump. I'm waiting for the day that they actually notice my belly moving with their eyes rather than just feeling it. I'm waiting in fear, as they both like to attack targets that are moving mysteriously underneath something. So I could be a mass of flesh wounds by the time I actually go to give birth!

I barfed a lot and it sucked. Let me have that, OK?

OK, so a real positive about this pregnancy has been fewer migraines! I've always been prone to them but for some reason instead of even worse migraines I've just been getting more of the smaller, more bearable headaches instead. I mention this because I had an actual migraine today and was reminded of how long it's been since I had to deal with one. Pretty sweet!

Uh ... perhaps I was a bit more of a baby about it as a result, but Andrew has skipped town until tomorrow night so didn't have to hang out with me for more than a couple of hours worth of pathetic behaviour.

Now, I expected that with this pregnancy I'd be throwing myself headlong into some online communities of pregnant women and getting right involved with all that, but I've quickly discovered that I don't really have the urge to. I have a hit-or-miss relationship with online communities in general, preferring mostly to keep them strictly online and not have them encroach too much into my oxygen life. There are a small number of people I've met online that I'd made an exception for, but they are few. So, after lurking slightly and posting just a couple of times in a couple of pregnancy/parenting forums and whatnot I can say that I now have no real desire to do this.

Part of it is that on the one hand I'm just kind of a bitch, I think, and get easily frustrated when certain things start to look more like contests than sharing experiences. I'm not going in trying to one-up anyone or be told to just be thankful I had it as easy as I did. Y'know, the morning sickness sucked my will to live and it makes me seriously reluctant to do this ever again. Don't tell me I was lucky, k? I was not lucky. No one who experiences extreme unpleasantness during their pregnancy is.

On the other hand I feel like I have such a strong existing support network through my family and tons of friends who have babies and have experienced everything I'm going through that I don't really need to seek strangers online to get advice from. It's one of the reasons that not getting into a midwife group didn't break my heart too much, because I have the experienced feminine moral support thing built right in. Mom, sisters, cousins, aunts, friends, all kinds of people a phone call or Facebook message away! I'm pretty blessed and I'm reminded of it constantly.

I'm also pretty blessed to have Andrew right there with me being as supportive and involved and interested as he is. Love you, sweetie!

Started out good, but ended with rant.

It occurs to me quite a lot that even though I've moaned and complained variously about the discomforts of this process, I'm extremely thankful that that's all they've been: discomforts. I've had no pregnancy-related complications that threaten me or baby Jeanes and that's something to be grateful for!

Pre-eclampsia and gestational diabetes are two things I worried about but so far, so good. The diabetes one wouldn't surprise me all that much but my bloodwork has been fine and I'm feeling pretty physically OK (for sickly ol' me.) I definitely need to be getting more exercise. That one is self-inflicted and not the fault of being pregnant, of course.

Last night Andrew and I went out for dinner and after we got home I was reminded of how much I need to start doing some more regular forms of exercise. Man, did my back ever hurt! Andrew is the one who nearly killed his entire self on some stairs while we were out, and I'm the one with the pain afterward. Unfair, I say. I had a bit of a preview at the One Of A Kind Show of the backaches to come, and I guess I'll just have to get Andrew to give me some nice massages or something (especially since La gave me that incredibly awesome Lush massage bar at Christmas.) But yeah; I do think that going for some regular walks will help, even if it makes it hurt a bit more at first.

Time is really flying now. I'm five months along and kind of in disbelief about that. It STILL doesn't seem entirely real that we're going to have a baby, you know. Yes, I feel like there's a human being growing inside of me but that isn't any kind of prep for what it's going to be like to LIVE with a TOTALLY DEPENDENT BABY. All my selfish ways and decisions are going to be secondary to making sure our kid survives each day. As a 34 year old with ingrained habits I think it's going to definitely be a rude kind of awakening! There are a few camps of parent out there. The kind that we have the most contact with, fortunately, are the kind who want to share useful advice and empathy, but there's another kind. The kind that like to maliciously shake their heads and say smugly, "Oh, you have no idea what you're in for. You'll see."

Yeah ... thanks. Does it surprise anyone that the first kid is a challenge? How can it not be? There was a time when I did not want to have children. I knew I could change my mind in the future when I hit my thirties, or encounter a surprise pregnancy and have to deal with that, but I really resented the idea that people saw being childfree as a negative of my personality. When I saw the kind of behaviour, though, where the parents seemed to relish the idea of someone sharing in what seemed to be their misery I felt a bit better about my decision. There are all kinds, of course, and even in the spectrum of the childfree there are wildly varying approaches and feelings about kids in general but I hope I never turn into the kind of parent who treats the role as a negative experience overall. Yes, there will be challenges and times when I question my sanity and the decision to have a child but I fully expect that overall I will like parenting and LOVE our spawn.

Seriously. My cats piss me off regularly (every day!) and I love and forgive them, so how much more am I going to love and care about a human being that's made up of me and Andrew?

Post-holiday entry.

Happy 2009! I'm still pregnant, so things are going well on that front. Christmas broke me a bit, I think, so I haven't felt much like writing but I've been feeling bad about not updating so here I am.

I would have definitely handled the holidays better if I hadn't gotten that dumb cold. I'm actually still trying to get over the last of it, but traveling and not getting a lot of sleep probably made that harder to do. Seeing family and friends was incredibly awesome, of course, and Christmas day I hardly noticed how sick I felt, it was so good to spend time with my family and enjoy the nieces and nephews. My mom got a Wii and I actually had a LOT of fun playing it, something I did not expect. It's just that everyone looks dumb when they play that thing, so it's not so bad. I still giggle to myself when I remember watching Andrew boxing. Heeeeeee.

It might have been easier if we'd been able to stay longer in each city we visited, giving us a chance to catch our breath, but since all the places we stayed involved people giving up their actual beds for us we definitely didn't want to overstay our welcome! Thank you so much to Hayley, Alannah, and Jenny and Colm, all of whom let us sleep in their very comfy beds. This is not something I plan to repeat, since ... no. It's just not right. We are really blessed to have such generous people in our lives who were willing to sacrifice to help us make our holidays work out.

I guess the multi-city Christmas craziness that has always been our way (out of necessity) will have to shift somewhat with the arrival of baby Jeanes. Accommodations will be even trickier and I suspect we'll end up staying in hotels and trying to perhaps stay longer in one place so that we aren't run ragged. Eek. I dunno. I guess we'll think about it when we have to. Alannah has already demanded babysitting privileges and we'll definitely take her up on them while baby Jeanes is still tiny and adorable and hold-able. If we can make Post-Christmas Christmas work next year, La, you're booked!

The morning sickness is definitely almost entirely a thing of the past, thank heavens! There are still moments, but they're laughable compared to what it was. I still crave kind of random things and no one craving hangs around too terribly long (although I could eat a caramel apple anytime.)

The BEST part is feeling the baby moving. I'm much more able to distinguish between regular internal workings and the kicks and jazz hands going on in my uterus. Hilariously the baby is most active when Shelley is lounging on me and purring. This tends to happen when I'm using my laptop on the sofa and Shelley kind of sprawls along my left side between me and the sofa cushions (I'm sitting sidewise with my back against a sofa arm in case I'm not making myself clear.) This means that his purrs are pretty much right up against where the baby is probably trying to sleep, and he/she is probably annoyed at the rumbling and vibrations. Cat purrs are surprisingly strong, if you're not that familiar with cats. Sorry baby, but I'm not kicking my cat off for anything. Get used to it!

Still hoping to find out the sex this month so I can switch to using an actual gender to refer to our spawn. I'll be calling on Monday to make the appointment, so here's hoping they can get us in there soon.

Ummm ... not much else happened. We went to a New Year's eve party thrown by one of Andrew's old co-workers from the computer store. I was kind of reluctant since I was still feeling sick, didn't know anyone and couldn't even drink any booze to just relax myself and go with it. It turned out to be more fun than I anticipated, though, and we had a nice time. The host booked a suite in a hotel across from Nathan Phillips Square so we got to look down at the mass of people and enjoy the fireworks when midnight hit. There was even a fantastic vibrating chocolate fountain that I thoroughly enjoyed until someone moshed into it and ended the chocolate fun by splattering it down the wall. Fruit and chocolate are the PERFECT combination, people. Luckily for the host there was an immediate cleanup effort by family and friends and all was well.

OK. That's really it, I guess. Or at least I can't remember anything entirely relevant right now and will post later if something occurs to me.

Pre-Christmas posting.

I've been hardly daring to believe it, but I think I'm feeling better! The morning sickness has eased off quite a bit and even though I still have a bad day or so, not every day is constant nausea like it used to be! It's so awesome to feel an improvement, right when I was thinking there would NEVER be one.

Of course, I've managed to get an awful cold for Christmas but I still feel better than I did! A cold isn't the end of the world but not being able to take Neo Citran feels so weird. I've been using a saline nasal spray to help with the sinus stuff and it's ... very different from Otrivin. Otrivin is meant to go in there and stay in there, whereas the saline spray is meant to flush you out, baby. I'd never used one before, or a Neti pot or anything like that, so the learning curve for me has been a bit steep and uncomfortable, but surprisingly it does help. Perhaps not when the cold is at its worst, but it makes a difference. I used to be the kind of person who never took medication for anything, but in my early twenties I discovered that medications WORK and actually bring relief, so converted enthusiastically to cold and headache relievers. Now that I can't take the ones that work best I really miss them.

I ran into my cousin-out-law (Andrew's cousin) Emily on the street tonight when I was coming home from some Christmas shopping. I mentioned to her that so far this weblog has been mostly just a bunch of bitching about how horrid pregnancy makes me feel, but there are some really good things starting to happen now and I want to make sure to highlight all the great stuff since I don't want this to be a total warning to the female population to never get pregnant.

I'm nineteen weeks now and the baby is getting very normal-looking in there, according to the experts, instead of looking like a creepy alien. It's about the size of a large deli pickle (except baby-shaped), and my uterus is a bit larger than a cantaloupe! A cantaloupe! Wow. So, I'm starting to look more pregnant although it's still hard to tell in general since I tend to wear loose clothes anyhow. I also think I'm feeling some baby movement, which is bizarre but awesome. Fluttery feelings, which is exactly how it's described by those who've experienced it before. My innards are definitely shifting around to make room for all this growth and stuff and it feels odd. Not bad; just odd.

We won't be finding out the gender until after the holidays. I meant to book the anatomical scan before Christmas but things got away from me, so hopefully they'll be able to fit us in soon after the new year. I have my heart set on finding out and if it turns out that the baby won't cooperate and they can't get a good enough look I'm going to be very disappointed. Don't be shy, baby!

We're going to be traveling like mad over the holidays, which is our usual way of spending Christmas. Three cities (Kingston, Ottawa and Montreal.) Maybe I'll be able to score another caramel apple from the Purple Cow!

Hello, cervix! Nice to meet you!

It's been a busy time over the last little while, but I'll do my best to recap.

I had my colposcopy on Friday. I was extremely nervous about it since I wasn't sure what exactly to expect going in. I didn't know if they'd be doing a biopsy or not. As it turns out the oncologist was extremely nice and put me at ease very well. Andrew came in with me and after doing an interview with a nurse about my medical history I saw the oncologist and she got right up in my hoo-ha with a camera and showed us my cervix on the big tv screen.

I'm always squicked out by the icky biological nature of our human bodies so seeing my gross cervix magnified by a bajillion was creepily fascinating. The oncologist was very merry about pointing out stuff to me and explaining that all the goop and whatnot was normal and nothing to worry about. Then she pointed out the problem areas to the left and just above the cervical opening which, thanks to the vinegar solution she'd used, showed up white (the cells, not the opening.) And that was pretty much it. She decided not to do another pap since the problem areas were obvious and she could see them clearly.

So, instead of doing anything right now she said for me to come back in March when she'll check and see how things have progressed. No biopsy until about six weeks after the baby is born, too, so nothing will endanger the progress of pregnancy at all. On the one hand that's very relieving since I was worried they'd want to risk it, but on the other hand I can't help but feel like doing nothing for a while feels worrisome. I'm mostly just resolving to try not to think about it until I have to, though, so concentrating on the progress of the pregnancy and how baby Jeanes is doing is priority one.

On Friday night we headed to Ottawa with Andrew's parents in their car. Andrew's grandpa was having the annual Christmas party on Sunday, which was also Andrew's birthday, so we were off to enjoy a weekend of celebration. We stayed with Colin and Jen and on Saturday we went out for lunch with Alannah who was kid-free for the weekend. We ate at Feleena's, whose cheese enchiladas I'd been craving for a long, looooong time. It was good except the enchiladas came with red salsa instead of salsa verde, and the salsa verde is one of my favourite things about them. Ah, well. They were still delicious, if a bit too spicy.

After lunch, though, we got me MY CARAMEL APPLE. Yes, my caramel apple! We got it at the Purple Cow, whose caramel apples I'd been specifically craving, and I have to tell you that it was exactly as I remembered. Better, even. I'm sure some of the noises that I made while eating it were very distracting for Andrew as he was trying to drive the Ottawa city streets in the middle of a snowstorm. It was just. So. Good.

That night we went out to New Mee Fung with Colin and Jen for delicious Vietnamese food, then went out for bubble tea after that. Oh, man. So much good food in one day. I was feeling pretty good, all things considered, and was thrilled to enjoy some of my favourite Ottawa treats without suffering from too much pregnancy-related illness.

Sunday brought the Christmas party at Andrew's grandpa's retirement home. It went off fabulously and I ended up discussing the baby a LOT with very interested, charming people. There were a lot of stories and advice heard that afternoon, believe me. Mostly stories, though, as the majority of people are of my grandparent's generation and had come to Canada from England or Ireland or Scotland or Wales. Grandpa's parties are always a good time and I end up socially exhausted after from all the talking!

After the party Andrew's parents took us directly to the train station, where I got to have my first experience with riding Via Rail first class. Andrew's dad had upgraded our tickets for us. All in all it was fantastic, although I'm used to being pretty much left alone during my train ride. In first class they're always checking in with you and waving wine bottles at you. I stuck with juice and pop, of COURSE, and was ecstatic that the meal was as delicious as it was. Andrew had reserved our meals beforehand and got us the pork tenderloin and it was fabulous. The other choices were scallops and (I think) spinach ravioli. The ravioli probably would have been OK, but oh ... the tenderloin was good. I really enjoyed my food this weekend, it seems.

Sadly I spent most of yesterday feeling sicker than I'd felt in a long, long time. I guess the weekend caught up with me or something, or I'm coming down with something. I even barfed, just to remind myself that yes, I'm still pregnant and no, the morning sickness is not gone yet! It's OK, though. The weekend was totally worth it.

Mmmm, pizza.

I'm feeling a little discouraged this weekend because I'd sincerely hoped to have seen the last of my morning sickness by now. Unfortunately, it hasn't gone away. It might be somewhat less, or I might just have gotten used to it, but it's still definitely around and troublesome if I don't keep taking Diclectin to make it less so.

The other stuff is breezy compared to feeling nauseated all the time. I'm not going to list and rank it all here, but I'd happily deal with the rest right up until delivery if the sickness would just GO.

Argh. Anyhow, I am still managing to eat somewhat regular meals. I was kind of shocked to see that I'd only put on two pounds when we went to the obstetrician. I was convinced I'd have put on a lot more what with my uterus getting all sizable and having eaten not-necessarily 'healthy' foods when I could eat. I guess I should be thankful, though, since there's still lots of time for me to pack on the pounds, especially if I get my regular appetite back.

For some reason pizza has seemed to become a favourite. I know that sounds kind of awful, but looking back over the last few months I see that when all else fails, pizza has usually been a good fallback form of sustenance. I guess that's not so bad, what with it usually containing most of the food groups and all. I'm kind of the opposite of a pizza snob. I'm not all that invested in getting gourmet pizza with asparagus and eggplant on a whole wheat artisan crust with heirloom tomato sauce. I like my pizza hot and cheesy on a substantial crust, and ham and pineapple tends to be my favourite topping. That or olives and green peppers, sometimes with pepperoni. I'm quite happy to order Pizza Hut and eat it as hot as possible as soon as it comes in the door.

So, I've been eating variations of pizza whenever I can't think of anything else that my stomach would enjoy. There's usually a McCain's rising crust pizza in the freezer for when I need one, and I still LOOOOOVE the Dr. Oetker's mozzarella pizza although it's harder to come by, seeing as how it seems to sell as quickly as the Loblaw's will stock it. Which isn't all that regularly. I'm even grooving on the Lean Cuisine single-serving four-cheese pizzas somewhat.

My belly is definitely popping out more with babyness now that my uterus is moving on up. I was a little overjoyed to realize that I could start wearing some pants that were too big a while ago, a situation that would in the normal scheme of things not overjoy me AT ALL. I'd forgotten about them and was stressing that I only had one wearable pair of jeans around, but then remembered the existence of these pants that seemed to fit in the store but then were kind of fally-downy when I got them home. For once I'm glad that I procrastinated on returning them since now they're pants that will last me until beyond the holiday season, even if they're baggier in the leg than I'd like. I'm feeling a bit resistant to going and buying maternity clothes, for some reason. Maybe because I don't really plan on having more children, so don't want to go crazy buying all kinds of expensive stuff like a complete wardrobe of maternity clothes and matching nursery furniture and whatnot.

Yes, a crib, but I'm not feeling the need for a matching changing table and all that. No matter what we'll still be living in limited space, so we have to keep the baby furniture pretty limited as well. I'm more excited about baby clothes than I am about baby accessories beyond the bare necessities. I would like to get rid of our sofa, keep the loveseat and get a rocker, which will also give us more room in the living room. This is assuming we stay in the same apartment for a while after the baby is born, which is more of a possibility now than we thought it had to be initially. It would be workable with a baby; not a toddler.

Anyhow, all in all babymaking is coming along pretty well and I'm trying not to think too much about it all until after the new year, although I still have some moments of nervousness every now and again. Maybe I'll complain a little more in a few days or so! (I know you can hardly wait.)

Yay, baby! Circulate that blood!

I had another obstetrician visit yesterday. I wasn't so jazzed about the visit itself, but kind of looked forward to eating some very cheap Chinese food in the hospital food court after so met Andrew at the Queen's Park station and we headed over to Mt. Sinai.

The doctor seemed a bit confused about why we were there, oddly, asking if I was there early for the scheduled colposcopy. I had no real answer other than that we'd been scheduled to come in that day, so he went with it and checked out where my uterus was at and let us listen to the heartbeat. That was pretty awesome as we hadn't heard it before. Any proof that the baby is in there doing its baby thing with apparent health is always happy-making.

Unfortunately the doctor wasn't so positive about the abnormal cells result from my pap smear and said that on a scale of one to five (one being a slight risk of cancer and five being probable cancer) that I'm a level three. Normally this would mean a colposcopy as soon as possible and a biopsy being done, but since I'm pregnant that complicates things and messing around with the cervix isn't a good idea. He said that in order to save time he'd rather send me to a specialist at Princess Margaret since that's what he'd do after doing a colposcopy anyhow, so why not just send me there initially. So they're setting me up with a specialist and we'll find out more. Eventually.

Of course this is anxiety-producing, but until we actually know something there's no real point in freaking out or assuming the worst. So after going and having seven (SEVEN) vials of blood drawn from my poor body for other baby-related testing Andrew and I parted ways and I went to eat my Chinese food. It tasted good, but ended up not sitting so well and I felt like craaaaaaap by the evening. Boo. I've still got the sickness and I'm about as thrilled as you can imagine.

Oh! We got an official due date, finally. Our kidlet is due May 24th, 2009. Paaarty! There will be no iterations of the name Victoria/Victor appended to the baby if it's actually born on its due date, though. None. Those names were RUINED for me by The Young And The Restless back when I was a teen, and will never be the same again.

More miracles of pregnancy.

So I can't really decide if being pregnant is a nightmare or a wonderland for the hypochondriac in all of us. We're all that way to an extent, and I've been actually making an effort not to freak out about every little thing. So, I usually try to wait and see if something is a continuing issue before getting my Google on.

Well, lately I've noticed that I've been short of breath a lot, and also that I've had a stuffy nose for a couple of weeks. The short of breath thing could just mean that I'm way out of shape, which is pretty true. The stuffy nose thing could mean that I'm getting allergic to stuff in my old age, that I'm coming down with a cold, or something along those lines. Well, two weeks of it seemed to me to indicate an ongoing issue, so yesterday I plugged both symptoms in with the word 'pregnancy' appended to them. And guess what?

Yep, they are both talked about quite frankly as things that happen in pregnancy. The shortness of breath is a real thing that happens early and later for different reasons. Progesterone is always behind these awful things! I'm really starting to hate progesterone.

So, after reading about that and going, "huh," I looked up the stuffy nose thing and the Google was like, oh yeah, sure, you have rhinitis of pregnancy! I've had zero things that indicate a cold other than this ongoing stuffiness and wish to blow my nose all the time, so I'm forced to conclude that I've got this crazy deal.

The worst part of it all is not feeling like I can breathe properly a lot since being short of breath and having a stuffy nose are a crap-ass combination, but I am breathing. Just not as efficiently as before, I guess. I think it's more a sensation than anything else and I don't seem to be fainting or swooning or whatever, but it's just annoying.

Also annoying is ME since this kind of stuff makes me variously crabby and petulant and Andrew has to put up with me whining and whatnot. He does buy me whatever weird stuff I ask him for from the store. Also, I often will suddenly say out of the blue things like, "Do you know what sounds great right now? A bottle of queen olives. And some spaghetti. And a caramel apple." Andrew is always kind of like, that's weird, but is sympathetic.

I really do want a caramel apple. One of the ones from The Purple Cow in Ottawa. Big Granny Smiths with a thick layer of caramel. Nothing else, though. I don't need it dipped in chocolate or with peanut bits or Smartie pieces stuck to it. Just the tart, juicy apple and the gorgeous caramel that they use. Oooooh. What I'll probably end up doing is making my own here at home to just get it over with. It's not that hard.