It's a boy!
Treading the perilous bridge between being a bionic woman & taking charge of everything and falling into a heap of tears, fake eyelashes, dirty diapers, and dog poop.
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Monday, July 29, 2013
Bumpdate Alert! 13 weeks edition
Edit: Written on last Thursday
I have officially entered into my second trimester. Wahoo!
We won't be officially spilling the beans until next week when I receive the results to my fetal genetics testing. At that point, we will be able to release the sex of the baby along with the announcement. Even before I got pregnant, I knew how I wanted to announce this pregnancy. With The Lady, we didn't really announce. The Scientist was still pretty anxious about being a new dad and the news kind of dripped out rather than releasing the floodgates (which this one will be). With this one (hopefully) being my last one, I wanted to do it big(ger) than we did with the first.
I still feel quite icky. In trying to reflect when I was over my morning sickness with The Lady, I want to say that it continued until about 14 weeks. So I'm hopeful that within the next two weeks, the ickiness will fade and normalcy will return (I have forgotten what it feels like to not feel icky and tired, though I don't think the tired feelings will be going anywhere).
I have spread the news a little at work. My co-worker who will be leaving at any moment for maternity leave was told yesterday. She had the balls to tell me that I am showing way too early for 13 weeks, that my bump was too big for 13 weeks. Without being crass, she is a big girl and no one could really tell she was pregnant until she was 8 months along -- so I really don't think that she should be throwing any "your-bump-is-too-big" stones my way. I honestly don't know why she said it -- you would think that she (the pregnant lady of all people) would know better than to say "boy, you look big!"
I have yet to tell the PI (principal investigator) that I work for. He is not my supervisor (I told her a couple of weeks ago to inquire about coverage of an upcoming OB appointment) and he is a real douche-nozzle. So I'm waiting for one of the days where I am really despising his attitude towards me to drop the bomb on him. My co-worker said that when she told him of her pregnancy, he didn't even congratulate her! But he is a post for another day.
Fingers are crossed that my first trimester symptoms will go away this week!
I have officially entered into my second trimester. Wahoo!
I still feel quite icky. In trying to reflect when I was over my morning sickness with The Lady, I want to say that it continued until about 14 weeks. So I'm hopeful that within the next two weeks, the ickiness will fade and normalcy will return (I have forgotten what it feels like to not feel icky and tired, though I don't think the tired feelings will be going anywhere).
I have spread the news a little at work. My co-worker who will be leaving at any moment for maternity leave was told yesterday. She had the balls to tell me that I am showing way too early for 13 weeks, that my bump was too big for 13 weeks. Without being crass, she is a big girl and no one could really tell she was pregnant until she was 8 months along -- so I really don't think that she should be throwing any "your-bump-is-too-big" stones my way. I honestly don't know why she said it -- you would think that she (the pregnant lady of all people) would know better than to say "boy, you look big!"
I have yet to tell the PI (principal investigator) that I work for. He is not my supervisor (I told her a couple of weeks ago to inquire about coverage of an upcoming OB appointment) and he is a real douche-nozzle. So I'm waiting for one of the days where I am really despising his attitude towards me to drop the bomb on him. My co-worker said that when she told him of her pregnancy, he didn't even congratulate her! But he is a post for another day.
Fingers are crossed that my first trimester symptoms will go away this week!
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Wet feet & the pitter-patter of raccoon's feet
Yeah, so Saturday morning at 4:30am -- THIS happened....
In case you can't tell and think that we just have shiny carpet, I awoke to 6 inches of water in my basement. So there I was -- alone with my 17 month-old, two dogs, three cats, and 6 inches of water. To say that "last weekend was stressful" was quite the understatement.
The Scientist left for one of his annual conference on Friday afternoon. I had a fabulous week of girl time planned, which included lots of chick-flick watching and eating. The powers that be had other plans...
Now before I continue with my story, the one thing that I must tell you is that I get Paranoid with a capital P at nightfall whenever The Scientist is gone. So Friday night, it begins to rain & storm around 11pm-ish. This just feeds into my paranoia. My thoughts quickly run to how much easier it is for someone to break into my house and trap my daughter and myself upstairs to kill us with there is lots of thunder and the dogs can't hear a break-in. By checking the radar from my iPad in the darkness of my bedroom constantly, I learn that the storm is moving due-east and my house is sitting along the storm front line. So we are continually battered by heavy rains and heavy winds for hours.
Around 4:30, both dogs were laying in my bedroom, which makes me even more paranoid since they can't hear what's going on downstairs. I think that I hear a car turning on gravel, which makes me think that someone has drove into my driveway. I get out of bed to look out the window to check and notice that my front yard is engulfed in water. The entire front yard is water. In the four years of living here, I had never seen anything like it. So I think to myself "Self, The Scientist isn't going to believe you unless you get photographic evidence."
I head downstairs to take my photographs from the front door and I notice Norman (one of my cats) sitting at the top of the basement stairs, just staring down. My instant reaction was "Holy Shit! Someone's in the basement!!!!" I reach my arm around the corner to flip on the lights, petrified of seeing someone standing at the foot of the stairs. As I peek around the corner, all I see is water...
To make a really long story shorter, I had 6 inches of water in my basement. I called insurance, they are covering it to our limit (which isn't that high). The culprit ended up being a drain that was outside the basement door that couldn't keep up with the heavy rain for so long. Thankfully, the three drains in our basement were working and the water was completely drained out by 7:00am. We ended up being in a catastrophe area, according to my insurance company and couldn't get an emergency claim to come out and help me clean it. The most that I could do was put a fan downstairs and then I put a fan on the steps pointing downward to keep the musty air down. So my basement still sits wet -- just waiting for The Scientist and my father to come and rip out the carpet. The house is beginning to get that damp basement smell.
Last night, this happened (though the photo was taken this morning as the number were still sitting on my phone)...
Before continuing, please know that I didn't end up making the call. But I did walk downstairs with this dialed in, just in case someone was going to jump out at me. So the night was normal, The Lady went to bed around 8pm. I cleaned up after she fell asleep and then laid down next to her (in my bed) to watch a little television before falling asleep. As I'm laying in bed, watching TV, Munk suddenly jumps up off his bed and starts barking downstairs. I quickly flip on the downstairs landing light and he, Bishop (my other old, mostly deaf dog) and I all stand silently at the top of the stairs, just waiting for another noise. Nothing comes. So I go back to bed and continue watching my DVR'ed show. Another minute later, Munk again jumps up from his bed and races to the top of the stairs, furiously barking down the stairs. Now I start wigging out. I dial 9-1-1 on my phone and have my thumb hovering over the "call" button as I slowly descend the stairs. Although Munk is a ferocious watch dog, he is a complete scaredy-cat -- totally letting me go down to battle with the intruder myself. My heart is pumping a thousand miles a minute as I sneak around downstairs, inspecting each of the entryways into my home (there are three separate doors). All turn out to be locked and no signs of a burglar.
I go back upstairs, assuming that Munk must have heard the cats running around downstairs and that's what set him off. I climb back into bed and then I heard the thumping that Munk must have heard earlier. I silenced the TV at least three times to better hear the thumping. Someone was on the roof!!!! But the more that I listened to the thumping, I realized that the pattering were too close together for it to be a human. I ruled out coyote as they can't climb and mountain lion as there aren't any in our area. The only thing that I think could have been making those noises were fat-ass raccoons! We had a raccoon living in an easement a couple of years back -- but we closed it off with liquid nail and those suckers wouldn't be able to get back in. My only thought was they were returning for their stay at Casa de Scientist and realized that we had closed up shop!
I seriously can not wait for The Scientist to come home -- only so I can get a good night's sleep.
This is after the water had receded quite a bit.
In case you can't tell and think that we just have shiny carpet, I awoke to 6 inches of water in my basement. So there I was -- alone with my 17 month-old, two dogs, three cats, and 6 inches of water. To say that "last weekend was stressful" was quite the understatement.
The Scientist left for one of his annual conference on Friday afternoon. I had a fabulous week of girl time planned, which included lots of chick-flick watching and eating. The powers that be had other plans...
Now before I continue with my story, the one thing that I must tell you is that I get Paranoid with a capital P at nightfall whenever The Scientist is gone. So Friday night, it begins to rain & storm around 11pm-ish. This just feeds into my paranoia. My thoughts quickly run to how much easier it is for someone to break into my house and trap my daughter and myself upstairs to kill us with there is lots of thunder and the dogs can't hear a break-in. By checking the radar from my iPad in the darkness of my bedroom constantly, I learn that the storm is moving due-east and my house is sitting along the storm front line. So we are continually battered by heavy rains and heavy winds for hours.
Around 4:30, both dogs were laying in my bedroom, which makes me even more paranoid since they can't hear what's going on downstairs. I think that I hear a car turning on gravel, which makes me think that someone has drove into my driveway. I get out of bed to look out the window to check and notice that my front yard is engulfed in water. The entire front yard is water. In the four years of living here, I had never seen anything like it. So I think to myself "Self, The Scientist isn't going to believe you unless you get photographic evidence."
I head downstairs to take my photographs from the front door and I notice Norman (one of my cats) sitting at the top of the basement stairs, just staring down. My instant reaction was "Holy Shit! Someone's in the basement!!!!" I reach my arm around the corner to flip on the lights, petrified of seeing someone standing at the foot of the stairs. As I peek around the corner, all I see is water...
To make a really long story shorter, I had 6 inches of water in my basement. I called insurance, they are covering it to our limit (which isn't that high). The culprit ended up being a drain that was outside the basement door that couldn't keep up with the heavy rain for so long. Thankfully, the three drains in our basement were working and the water was completely drained out by 7:00am. We ended up being in a catastrophe area, according to my insurance company and couldn't get an emergency claim to come out and help me clean it. The most that I could do was put a fan downstairs and then I put a fan on the steps pointing downward to keep the musty air down. So my basement still sits wet -- just waiting for The Scientist and my father to come and rip out the carpet. The house is beginning to get that damp basement smell.
Last night, this happened (though the photo was taken this morning as the number were still sitting on my phone)...
Before continuing, please know that I didn't end up making the call. But I did walk downstairs with this dialed in, just in case someone was going to jump out at me. So the night was normal, The Lady went to bed around 8pm. I cleaned up after she fell asleep and then laid down next to her (in my bed) to watch a little television before falling asleep. As I'm laying in bed, watching TV, Munk suddenly jumps up off his bed and starts barking downstairs. I quickly flip on the downstairs landing light and he, Bishop (my other old, mostly deaf dog) and I all stand silently at the top of the stairs, just waiting for another noise. Nothing comes. So I go back to bed and continue watching my DVR'ed show. Another minute later, Munk again jumps up from his bed and races to the top of the stairs, furiously barking down the stairs. Now I start wigging out. I dial 9-1-1 on my phone and have my thumb hovering over the "call" button as I slowly descend the stairs. Although Munk is a ferocious watch dog, he is a complete scaredy-cat -- totally letting me go down to battle with the intruder myself. My heart is pumping a thousand miles a minute as I sneak around downstairs, inspecting each of the entryways into my home (there are three separate doors). All turn out to be locked and no signs of a burglar.
I go back upstairs, assuming that Munk must have heard the cats running around downstairs and that's what set him off. I climb back into bed and then I heard the thumping that Munk must have heard earlier. I silenced the TV at least three times to better hear the thumping. Someone was on the roof!!!! But the more that I listened to the thumping, I realized that the pattering were too close together for it to be a human. I ruled out coyote as they can't climb and mountain lion as there aren't any in our area. The only thing that I think could have been making those noises were fat-ass raccoons! We had a raccoon living in an easement a couple of years back -- but we closed it off with liquid nail and those suckers wouldn't be able to get back in. My only thought was they were returning for their stay at Casa de Scientist and realized that we had closed up shop!
I seriously can not wait for The Scientist to come home -- only so I can get a good night's sleep.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
12 and Pinball
From some reason this is my most lasting memory of Sesame Street growing up (this and the little worm dude that lives with Oscar the Grouch)
Today, we have hit it! We are at 12 weeks today. I know that technically I'm not out of my first trimester until next Thursday, but I'm totally counting it today.
Puppy bomb!
As you can see in the photo, there hasn't been a whole lot of change. And I don't know if I'm mentioned the fact, but I actually lost weight while in Ireland. And due to the fact that I'm not taking the zofran and don't feel like eating as I normally do, I have been able to maintain the same weight for the past week and a half. I realized that it's only 3 pounds, but it makes me feel a lot less heavy (I'm sure it's all psychological).
And almost as if my body was telling me that I couldn't be counting my chickens yet, today I have had some serious morning sickness. I thought that I was going to be physically sick at least 3 times this morning -- to the point where my spit even changed (TMI?). Am I the only one that gets really liquid-y spit and has a slightly different taste right before they heave? Hmmmm, weird. I had to have The Scientist bring in the zofran for me at work. I would have just went home sick, but I have two patients on the schedule with another phone interview to do. My co-worker is going out on maternity leave probably next week and I'm covering her studies, so I have to make sure that I know what I'm doing here. I took the zofran about 90 minutes ago and still feel total yuck.
And as you can see, yesterday, The Scientist and I went in for the nuchal translucency ultrasound. We got to see the wee one for about 10 minutes while the tech was moving the wand all over my stomach. It's too early to tell the sex of the baby by ultrasound, so we didn't find that out yesterday. After the ultrasound, we were to discuss our options with the doctor (who happens to be working in (not for) The Scientist's lab trying to make Lenti virus -- don't ask me, I really don't know what that is either). We went from chromosomal testing with The Lady and we wanted to do that again this time. With The Lady, we had the nuchal translucency ultrasound, which measured a fold behind the baby's neck and in combination with some blood work, the results tell you your risk for a chromosomal abnormality.
This time at the time of my due date I will classified as "Advanced Maternal Age" (I'll be 35), we have a new option. Actually the new option is REALLY new to the Clinic -- 3 months new and has an efficacy rate of 99%. With a single blood test, they are able to give us a positive on the three main chromosomal abnormalities (Downs Syndrome, Trisomy 18, and Trisomy 13). But they are also able to tell us the sex of the baby!!!!!!! Being that they are looking at the DNA of the fetus (something about free floating fetus DNA in my blood -- again they were speaking science jargon) when they are looking for the chromosomal abnormalities, they also have the DNA right there to look for an X or a Y. The results come back in 10 business days. So by the time that I reach 14 weeks, we will know for certain if it is a boy or a girl. And the best part is that they are calling me with the results -- not The Scientist who would withhold the information or give me incorrect information just to tease me (as is his way).
The Scientist leaves tomorrow afternoon for his yearly conference. He will be gone for 6 days, which leaves me with The Lady. And while I'm pretty exhausted 95% of the day, she has finally left her teething stint from earlier this week behind. That involved her waking from 2am - 4am two nights in a row and just being a complete bear in the evenings, requiring my constant attention and holding. According to The Scientist, this morning's report was a good one. She slept late and ate well and was overall back to her Lovely Lady self. Yeah!!!!
Monday, July 15, 2013
11 week update (original, I know)
So, today (actually written last Thursday), I'm officially 11 weeks. We just got back from a family trip to Ireland on Monday evening and I can't distinguish which is the weary traveler and which is the weary baby-maker.
As you can see, the bump is in full progress now. It looks really low, so I'm not sure how much is baby and how much is just bloat. People at Lady's (my daughter) daycare have asked me if I was pregnant last week. And someone at work almost asked me yesterday, but I cut her off. The words came out "Are you..." and she was looking at my stomach. So today I made a conscious effort to wear clothes that show my gut instead of disguising (as I have been in the last couple of weeks). My thought -- reverse psychology. If I don't try to hide my belly, people will be less likely to ask if I'm pregnant because they will just think I'm fat. If I wear loose clothes, people will think I'm trying to hide something. Paranoid much?
The nausea is still there somewhat. While in Ireland, I forgot my morning sickness medication that I was prescribed from Emery (my OB). It was there that I realized that the medication wasn't really doing anything. I didn't feel any worse than I did with the medication -- just that plain ole' icky feeling. I tried to eat little bits throughout the day and it seemed to work (though The Scientist's driving always made me nauseous). So I stopped taking the Zofran completely. I have waves of terrible nausea, but they are fleeting and tend to leave just as quickly as they arrived. Being that my morning sickness isn't that severe, I've already spoken to The Scientist about my thoughts on this one being a boy. He, of course, was elated, but we won't find out for certain until mid September.
We told his family while we were in Ireland. I was only 10 weeks, but it's only two weeks shy of the end of the first trimester. With all his family being together (which is an abnormal occurrence), we decided to break with our own rules and spread the joyful news. They were over-the-moon, of course. We will be telling my parents when they come out to visit in either two or three weeks. At that point, the cat will be out of the bag. My mother can't keep a secret to save her life. My last pregnancy we told them at 11 weeks, but swore them to secrecy until we were ready for the news to come out. A month later when I let her release the news on FaceBook, I got a congratulations from an aunt who told me that she knew for quite a while and was finally happy to be able to wish me well. This time, we are prepared for the news to be heard 'round the world once my mom finds out.
I have a nuchal translucency ultrasound next Wednesday. It's an ultrasound that measures the folds on the back of the baby's neck to see what the risk for a chromosomal abnormality is. There we will get a better glimpse of the wee one.
And I think that this week is going to be the end of fat-phase and by next week, I should enter into the I-look-pregnant-phase. It appears that the baby is going to double in size this week and that my uterus is finally going to pop out over the top of my pelvic bone. I can think back to my first pregnancy and remember that at this phase, I was still not showing in the least. This one is just proving to me how much abdominal work I'm going to have to do after the wee one comes to get some tone back.
With the early protruding belly and the shortness of breath I experience in climbing stairs already, this pregnancy is just showing me how out of shape I really am...
Belly with a peeking baby & spying puppy (sounds like a Chinese entree)
PS -- talk about manly looking forearms! I swear I'm not buff at all...
PS -- talk about manly looking forearms! I swear I'm not buff at all...
As you can see, the bump is in full progress now. It looks really low, so I'm not sure how much is baby and how much is just bloat. People at Lady's (my daughter) daycare have asked me if I was pregnant last week. And someone at work almost asked me yesterday, but I cut her off. The words came out "Are you..." and she was looking at my stomach. So today I made a conscious effort to wear clothes that show my gut instead of disguising (as I have been in the last couple of weeks). My thought -- reverse psychology. If I don't try to hide my belly, people will be less likely to ask if I'm pregnant because they will just think I'm fat. If I wear loose clothes, people will think I'm trying to hide something. Paranoid much?
The nausea is still there somewhat. While in Ireland, I forgot my morning sickness medication that I was prescribed from Emery (my OB). It was there that I realized that the medication wasn't really doing anything. I didn't feel any worse than I did with the medication -- just that plain ole' icky feeling. I tried to eat little bits throughout the day and it seemed to work (though The Scientist's driving always made me nauseous). So I stopped taking the Zofran completely. I have waves of terrible nausea, but they are fleeting and tend to leave just as quickly as they arrived. Being that my morning sickness isn't that severe, I've already spoken to The Scientist about my thoughts on this one being a boy. He, of course, was elated, but we won't find out for certain until mid September.
We told his family while we were in Ireland. I was only 10 weeks, but it's only two weeks shy of the end of the first trimester. With all his family being together (which is an abnormal occurrence), we decided to break with our own rules and spread the joyful news. They were over-the-moon, of course. We will be telling my parents when they come out to visit in either two or three weeks. At that point, the cat will be out of the bag. My mother can't keep a secret to save her life. My last pregnancy we told them at 11 weeks, but swore them to secrecy until we were ready for the news to come out. A month later when I let her release the news on FaceBook, I got a congratulations from an aunt who told me that she knew for quite a while and was finally happy to be able to wish me well. This time, we are prepared for the news to be heard 'round the world once my mom finds out.
I have a nuchal translucency ultrasound next Wednesday. It's an ultrasound that measures the folds on the back of the baby's neck to see what the risk for a chromosomal abnormality is. There we will get a better glimpse of the wee one.
And I think that this week is going to be the end of fat-phase and by next week, I should enter into the I-look-pregnant-phase. It appears that the baby is going to double in size this week and that my uterus is finally going to pop out over the top of my pelvic bone. I can think back to my first pregnancy and remember that at this phase, I was still not showing in the least. This one is just proving to me how much abdominal work I'm going to have to do after the wee one comes to get some tone back.
With the early protruding belly and the shortness of breath I experience in climbing stairs already, this pregnancy is just showing me how out of shape I really am...
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