I'm about 12 hours away from leaving for the hospital, and the fear is really starting to set in. Not just about the surgery, but about the whole becoming-a-parent thing. All day I've been breaking down over whether I can do this or not. I know there's no choice now - sink or swim. That's always been a good approach for me, so I'm sure it will be just fine.
Luckily, our friends and family have been amazing - especially the last week or so. The support and advice has been priceless. It makes me feel like I can make it through knowing I have people to turn to. This baby girl has so many people rooting for her, and that just makes my heart burst. That - above everything else, gives me some strength. From friends, to co-workers, to everyone who works in the multiple doctors' offices I've been frequenting since October...she's got great support behind her. I know with all the love coming her way, she'll thrive on it. Just as she's done so far. I still can't believe we've come from total unknown territory and doctors trying to prepare us for the worst to pretty much full term. She's a miracle already - and we're all anxious to see what her next move will be.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Monday, February 13, 2012
Nearing Baby Time
Things have been going along well. No less of a roller coaster ride, but we're still feeling optimistic.
After a couple weeks of ups and downs, we finally have a scheduled C-Section! An actual birth date. It's scary, surreal, unreal. It feels like such a long road. In October we were told we'd be lucky to make it to 30 weeks. Now we're at 37 - technically full term. I can't help but get emotional, it's like we achieved something. However, I know we're not in the clear yet.
We really won't know Baby Z's situation until she arrives. She might be close to normal, maybe coming home a couple days after us...or she may need surgery. I think they're anticipating a relatively routine procedure if anything (and I say "routine" knowing it's not really, but for these doctors who deal with a lot of complexity and volume on a daily basis, it could be viewed as routine. ish). I have to keep in mind, it could still end up in full-blown open heart surgery. So I'm hoping for the best, bracing for the worst. I don't think I'm really mentally prepared for the worst though, and it scares me.
It's so strange to know that I'm 100% having a baby in less than 36 hours. It doesn't seem real. It's like planning a vacation that you think will never actually get to. But much much bigger. In my short history, these life-changing moments are not planned, but sneak up on you without warning. I supposed this moment was still up in the air for so long, it's hard to grasp that I have a date and a time that my life will change. And there is a big element of the unknown as well - something could occur that I can't foresee. Maybe that's the most terrifying part.
After a couple weeks of ups and downs, we finally have a scheduled C-Section! An actual birth date. It's scary, surreal, unreal. It feels like such a long road. In October we were told we'd be lucky to make it to 30 weeks. Now we're at 37 - technically full term. I can't help but get emotional, it's like we achieved something. However, I know we're not in the clear yet.
We really won't know Baby Z's situation until she arrives. She might be close to normal, maybe coming home a couple days after us...or she may need surgery. I think they're anticipating a relatively routine procedure if anything (and I say "routine" knowing it's not really, but for these doctors who deal with a lot of complexity and volume on a daily basis, it could be viewed as routine. ish). I have to keep in mind, it could still end up in full-blown open heart surgery. So I'm hoping for the best, bracing for the worst. I don't think I'm really mentally prepared for the worst though, and it scares me.
It's so strange to know that I'm 100% having a baby in less than 36 hours. It doesn't seem real. It's like planning a vacation that you think will never actually get to. But much much bigger. In my short history, these life-changing moments are not planned, but sneak up on you without warning. I supposed this moment was still up in the air for so long, it's hard to grasp that I have a date and a time that my life will change. And there is a big element of the unknown as well - something could occur that I can't foresee. Maybe that's the most terrifying part.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Week 33: Hospital Stay
So after the holiday weekend, I had to head back to Columbia for the final verdict on whether the doctors wanted to start Digoxin. So I packed up a bag, and headed back down. The plan? Two nights in the high risk rooms at L&D. There is nothing worse than getting stuck in the hospital when you're not confirmed "sick." I went in thinking positive. I'd have TV, my iPad, a downloaded movie...I kept thinking of it as a REALLY long flight. Too bad it didn't contain a few drinks like my long flights usually do.
The first night was the worst. I think it always is in hospitals. I got a huge dose of the meds to "load" me. The plan was to get a gram of meds into me in 24 hours. So I'd get a dose every 8 hours, and the docs would see how me and baby Z did as we went along. The first dose made me a little tired, and my chest a little tight. Worse though, it made Baby Z's heart rate drop. And movement. I got very little sleep that night. I had a late-night ultrasound to check on Baby Z that seemed to last for an hour. I had to be woken up every hour or so to roll over to get the baby moving. They woke me up to put me on more fluids and oxygen. The oxygen mask was not easy to get used to. It was physically uncomfortable, and almost gave me a full-blown panic attack. I sat there wondering if I should call Mark in the middle of the night. I was really afraid they were going to do an emergency c-section since things weren't looking wonderfully.
The next day, the baby started looking better on the monitors. HUGE relief! Now it was just a matter of getting through another day and night. Things got more interesting for my roomie, less for me. I think she had a c-section and wasn't doing great. I won't go into detail, but it was a strange situation. There was a lot of wailing in spanish, a potential escape attempt when they wouldn't let her 4 year old in, and a general communications breakdown. It was sad, and the nurses were trying really hard. They were really apologetic, but I didn't mind. I don't think a hospital stay - under any circumstances - is easy.
By the last day of my hospital stay, I was beyond ready to leave. I was on a constant EKG and monitoring, so I couldn't even get out of bed without calling a nurse. Even going for a walk around the floor was not an option. My cabin fever was all-time high. But I got to go home after an ECHO on me came back ok.
I've been feeling good on the Digoxin, but it totally knocks the stamina out of me. I struggle with the basics. For some reason, that's always a surprise for me. I'll run into the little grocery store for milk, and need an hour nap after. It's a strange pace to get used to. Because of it, I had to start my maternity leave early. I just couldn't do a full day of work PLUS working in my hours and hours of appointments every week. It was hard not to work up 'till the end, but I know it was the right thing to do.
The first night was the worst. I think it always is in hospitals. I got a huge dose of the meds to "load" me. The plan was to get a gram of meds into me in 24 hours. So I'd get a dose every 8 hours, and the docs would see how me and baby Z did as we went along. The first dose made me a little tired, and my chest a little tight. Worse though, it made Baby Z's heart rate drop. And movement. I got very little sleep that night. I had a late-night ultrasound to check on Baby Z that seemed to last for an hour. I had to be woken up every hour or so to roll over to get the baby moving. They woke me up to put me on more fluids and oxygen. The oxygen mask was not easy to get used to. It was physically uncomfortable, and almost gave me a full-blown panic attack. I sat there wondering if I should call Mark in the middle of the night. I was really afraid they were going to do an emergency c-section since things weren't looking wonderfully.
The next day, the baby started looking better on the monitors. HUGE relief! Now it was just a matter of getting through another day and night. Things got more interesting for my roomie, less for me. I think she had a c-section and wasn't doing great. I won't go into detail, but it was a strange situation. There was a lot of wailing in spanish, a potential escape attempt when they wouldn't let her 4 year old in, and a general communications breakdown. It was sad, and the nurses were trying really hard. They were really apologetic, but I didn't mind. I don't think a hospital stay - under any circumstances - is easy.
By the last day of my hospital stay, I was beyond ready to leave. I was on a constant EKG and monitoring, so I couldn't even get out of bed without calling a nurse. Even going for a walk around the floor was not an option. My cabin fever was all-time high. But I got to go home after an ECHO on me came back ok.
I've been feeling good on the Digoxin, but it totally knocks the stamina out of me. I struggle with the basics. For some reason, that's always a surprise for me. I'll run into the little grocery store for milk, and need an hour nap after. It's a strange pace to get used to. Because of it, I had to start my maternity leave early. I just couldn't do a full day of work PLUS working in my hours and hours of appointments every week. It was hard not to work up 'till the end, but I know it was the right thing to do.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Week 32 - False Alarms & Stomach Bugs
Week 32 proved to be more drama than I'd ever ask for. My gut had been saying "delivery at 32 weeks" for the past six weeks or so. Spoiler alert: my gut was wrong.
The week started out fine enough - going from appointment to appointment, hearing about how we're status quo. The docs are talking more about putting me on heart meds for the baby. I wish that was the extent of the drama. But it's not.
On Wednesday, I wasn't feeling right. Not just tired, but funky. Some pain, some mild contractions. Just off enough that I figured taking it easy was the best idea. So I planted myself on the couch with my laptop and called into my meetings. Mark had learned that a high school friend had passed away over the weekend, and he was going to a wake on Long Island that night. Because I was feeling off, I asked my Mom if she could come down after work. I was feeling fragile, and at the very least needed some help managing the dog. She can be a puller - especially after a day cooped up with her owner on slothing around on the couch. It felt like overkill, but I needed to feel like I had a safety net. Mom came through. And right on time.
By the time my Mom arrived, I was having regular contractions, and they were getting stronger. So I did what the doctors have been telling me: drink water, rest. Got it. I loaded up a pitcher with water so I could stay reclined and hydrated. I drank probably a whole pitcher, and was working on a second. The contractions kept going though. We decided to start timing them, and then I'd call the hospital. They were between 5 and 7 minutes apart, and coming pretty regularly, and with increasing intensity. I realy though this was IT - baby time.
As with any contractions I've gotten so far, I fear it's just gas. There's nothing more humiliatting to me than trekking to the hospital just to be told you should walk around and fart. So I took something for that, and a Pepcid (heartburn is my #2 fear). Nothing worked. I tried to go to the bathroom, and instead ended up vomitting the entire contents of my stomach. Liters and liters of water. Fun.
When I told my Mom this, her worried/confused looked turned slightly more alarmed. Apparently barfing was a hallmark of her labor too. So I called the folks at Columbia, who told me to get my butt down there. So I packed a couple things, hopped in the shower quickly (I knew it would be a pants-off situation), and away we went. My Mom was super nervous, which equates to driving super slow. She'd never had to get to this hospital before...oh, and her daugher was having painful contractions. I drank a bottle of water on the way down. I knew they were going to tell me I was dehydrated (again) so I wanted to get on top of that. My stomach wasn't a fan, and I fought the urge to vomit again the entire 45 minutes to the hospital.
Upon arrival, we spoke to the admin to get set up. I calmly and cheerfully asked if she had an empty garbage bag in the office. She did. I opened the bag, still calmly, and proceeded to projectile vomit like a freshman during homecoming. The admin and nurse assured me I wasn't the first to do this, and got me to a triage room right away. There, I got a bag of fluid, a shot to stop contractions, and something to help the nausea. Mark finally arrived and relieved my shaken mom from duty. We were both shaken, and a little uneasy that it wasn't the real thing.
The docs got me out of there relatively fast. Maybe too fast. By the time they took me off the monitor and removed the IV, I was already getting contractions again. They said it's normal, and sent me on my way. By the time we were half way home, I was surely getting contractions. My saintly husband stopped at the 24 hour CVS at 2AM to get Gatorade, Pedialyte, and any other method of hydration sold. I chugged a Gatorade, but wasnt' feeling better. As we got ready for a well-needed rest, I felt sick again. Mark stayed up with me as I contracted, puked, and cried. I woke up once more during the night to dry heave, and hoped I was done. I wasn't.
The next day I was still feeling beat up. I took the dog out around 11, and had a small breakfast. About an hour later, I was sick again. I called my local docs, who sent me to the high risk doc to get fluid without the hassel of the hospital. Of course, the second I arrived at the high risk office, I had to run and get sick again. This puking-on-arrival had kind of become my thing. They took one look at me and sent me to the hospital. I told them there was no way I was driving myself to Columbia, so I got to go to Stamford. I arrived to out of order elevators - and my contractions were getting stronger again. When I asked the security guard about alternative elevators (stairs weren't going to happen), he turned white and grabbed a wheel chair to get me to Labor & Delivery. L&D knew I was coming, and put me up in a nice labor suite - where I promptly puked-on-arrival again. They hooked me up to the monitors and IV, and gave me a shot of something for the nausea. I got around 5 bags of fluids before they let me go. Also, they gave me a Rx for nausea, which was a game-changer. I felt like a new person walking out of there. A new person who'd been hit by a bus, but a new person anyway.
I had appointments at Columbia the next day. Everything was sounding good, until we got in the car. Before we even left the block, my doctor called to tell me I should come back on Tuesday, and be prepared to be admitted - they want to start the digoxin. It means a 24 to 48 hour stay in the hospital for careful monitoring. It seemed the appropriate way to close out the week.
The week started out fine enough - going from appointment to appointment, hearing about how we're status quo. The docs are talking more about putting me on heart meds for the baby. I wish that was the extent of the drama. But it's not.
On Wednesday, I wasn't feeling right. Not just tired, but funky. Some pain, some mild contractions. Just off enough that I figured taking it easy was the best idea. So I planted myself on the couch with my laptop and called into my meetings. Mark had learned that a high school friend had passed away over the weekend, and he was going to a wake on Long Island that night. Because I was feeling off, I asked my Mom if she could come down after work. I was feeling fragile, and at the very least needed some help managing the dog. She can be a puller - especially after a day cooped up with her owner on slothing around on the couch. It felt like overkill, but I needed to feel like I had a safety net. Mom came through. And right on time.
By the time my Mom arrived, I was having regular contractions, and they were getting stronger. So I did what the doctors have been telling me: drink water, rest. Got it. I loaded up a pitcher with water so I could stay reclined and hydrated. I drank probably a whole pitcher, and was working on a second. The contractions kept going though. We decided to start timing them, and then I'd call the hospital. They were between 5 and 7 minutes apart, and coming pretty regularly, and with increasing intensity. I realy though this was IT - baby time.
As with any contractions I've gotten so far, I fear it's just gas. There's nothing more humiliatting to me than trekking to the hospital just to be told you should walk around and fart. So I took something for that, and a Pepcid (heartburn is my #2 fear). Nothing worked. I tried to go to the bathroom, and instead ended up vomitting the entire contents of my stomach. Liters and liters of water. Fun.
When I told my Mom this, her worried/confused looked turned slightly more alarmed. Apparently barfing was a hallmark of her labor too. So I called the folks at Columbia, who told me to get my butt down there. So I packed a couple things, hopped in the shower quickly (I knew it would be a pants-off situation), and away we went. My Mom was super nervous, which equates to driving super slow. She'd never had to get to this hospital before...oh, and her daugher was having painful contractions. I drank a bottle of water on the way down. I knew they were going to tell me I was dehydrated (again) so I wanted to get on top of that. My stomach wasn't a fan, and I fought the urge to vomit again the entire 45 minutes to the hospital.
Upon arrival, we spoke to the admin to get set up. I calmly and cheerfully asked if she had an empty garbage bag in the office. She did. I opened the bag, still calmly, and proceeded to projectile vomit like a freshman during homecoming. The admin and nurse assured me I wasn't the first to do this, and got me to a triage room right away. There, I got a bag of fluid, a shot to stop contractions, and something to help the nausea. Mark finally arrived and relieved my shaken mom from duty. We were both shaken, and a little uneasy that it wasn't the real thing.
The docs got me out of there relatively fast. Maybe too fast. By the time they took me off the monitor and removed the IV, I was already getting contractions again. They said it's normal, and sent me on my way. By the time we were half way home, I was surely getting contractions. My saintly husband stopped at the 24 hour CVS at 2AM to get Gatorade, Pedialyte, and any other method of hydration sold. I chugged a Gatorade, but wasnt' feeling better. As we got ready for a well-needed rest, I felt sick again. Mark stayed up with me as I contracted, puked, and cried. I woke up once more during the night to dry heave, and hoped I was done. I wasn't.
The next day I was still feeling beat up. I took the dog out around 11, and had a small breakfast. About an hour later, I was sick again. I called my local docs, who sent me to the high risk doc to get fluid without the hassel of the hospital. Of course, the second I arrived at the high risk office, I had to run and get sick again. This puking-on-arrival had kind of become my thing. They took one look at me and sent me to the hospital. I told them there was no way I was driving myself to Columbia, so I got to go to Stamford. I arrived to out of order elevators - and my contractions were getting stronger again. When I asked the security guard about alternative elevators (stairs weren't going to happen), he turned white and grabbed a wheel chair to get me to Labor & Delivery. L&D knew I was coming, and put me up in a nice labor suite - where I promptly puked-on-arrival again. They hooked me up to the monitors and IV, and gave me a shot of something for the nausea. I got around 5 bags of fluids before they let me go. Also, they gave me a Rx for nausea, which was a game-changer. I felt like a new person walking out of there. A new person who'd been hit by a bus, but a new person anyway.
I had appointments at Columbia the next day. Everything was sounding good, until we got in the car. Before we even left the block, my doctor called to tell me I should come back on Tuesday, and be prepared to be admitted - they want to start the digoxin. It means a 24 to 48 hour stay in the hospital for careful monitoring. It seemed the appropriate way to close out the week.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Overwhelming
Since I last wrote, we got some great news. Two Pediatric Cardiologists are feeling like our little Baby Z won't need open heart surgery after she's born!! Tremendous news! However, we're putting a cautious cap on our excitement about this, knowing things can change at any minute.
But we've officially made it to 31 weeks. It's a big deal for this sort of CHD, and puts our doctors all in a hopeful place. We're feeling hopeful too. The nursery is starting to come together a little, and we're more comfortable making plans and preparation for the new bundle of joy.
There is a long road ahead of us though. I'm getting really overwhelmed by the increasing amount of doctor visits to manage. Sounds like I'm headed to Columbia at least once a week, and will have some monitoring done closer to home another day a week. That doesn't factor in the Cardiologist appointments, which I still have to figure out, but will happen every other week. It's a lot to handle with a full time job in there. I have to ask my HR department about taking additional disability. It's scary, but it's something I may need to do soon.
The other reason I may need to plan for disability is that I've landed myself in Labor & Delivery twice already. Right after Christmas I had what I thought were gas pains. After walking around and chowing gas-x, I finally called the doc around midnight. He sent me in, where I got loads of fluids, antibiotics for a UTI (surprise), and a shot to stop my contractions (surprise again). Now I know what contractions feel like at least.
On Friday, we went to see our newest OB at Columbia. She's great - very thorough, and very smart. I'm feeling really confident in her care. During the appointment, I was having worsening pain. I mentioned it, and she found I was 1 cm dilated. Yikes! Down to L&D for me and hubby. We spent 7 hours there, getting tested, poked, prodded, and laying on the most uncomfortable cot created by man. It was rough. No TV in the triage room, so we damn near killed our phone waiting for the next Facebook post by anyone just to pass the time. Bringing the iPad and cell phone chargers next time we go to Columbia for anything!
Finally I got to go home, even though they threatened to keep me repeatedly. They released us just in time - I was really starting to lose my mind. No one was doing anything to remedy the situation, I was just purely being monitored. They were giving me fluids - on the slowest drip known to man. I still managed to get them to give me water, and I think that helped. Plus, it was my birthday the next day. I couldn't fathom waking up on that horrible cot on my birthday, AND missing the blissful prenatal massage Mark set up for me. Alas, they took mercy on me, and let us go home (luckily after rush hour...so at least we had that going for us).
So we're feeling good, but now very nervous that this baby could come literally any time. Like in weeks. It's another layer of stress that is starting to really take it's toll on me. I feel like I should just be concentrating on baby, but I can't bring myself to take leave super early.
Today I have to get all my appointments set up pretty much through the end of my pregnancy (however long that lasts).
But we've officially made it to 31 weeks. It's a big deal for this sort of CHD, and puts our doctors all in a hopeful place. We're feeling hopeful too. The nursery is starting to come together a little, and we're more comfortable making plans and preparation for the new bundle of joy.
There is a long road ahead of us though. I'm getting really overwhelmed by the increasing amount of doctor visits to manage. Sounds like I'm headed to Columbia at least once a week, and will have some monitoring done closer to home another day a week. That doesn't factor in the Cardiologist appointments, which I still have to figure out, but will happen every other week. It's a lot to handle with a full time job in there. I have to ask my HR department about taking additional disability. It's scary, but it's something I may need to do soon.
The other reason I may need to plan for disability is that I've landed myself in Labor & Delivery twice already. Right after Christmas I had what I thought were gas pains. After walking around and chowing gas-x, I finally called the doc around midnight. He sent me in, where I got loads of fluids, antibiotics for a UTI (surprise), and a shot to stop my contractions (surprise again). Now I know what contractions feel like at least.
On Friday, we went to see our newest OB at Columbia. She's great - very thorough, and very smart. I'm feeling really confident in her care. During the appointment, I was having worsening pain. I mentioned it, and she found I was 1 cm dilated. Yikes! Down to L&D for me and hubby. We spent 7 hours there, getting tested, poked, prodded, and laying on the most uncomfortable cot created by man. It was rough. No TV in the triage room, so we damn near killed our phone waiting for the next Facebook post by anyone just to pass the time. Bringing the iPad and cell phone chargers next time we go to Columbia for anything!
Finally I got to go home, even though they threatened to keep me repeatedly. They released us just in time - I was really starting to lose my mind. No one was doing anything to remedy the situation, I was just purely being monitored. They were giving me fluids - on the slowest drip known to man. I still managed to get them to give me water, and I think that helped. Plus, it was my birthday the next day. I couldn't fathom waking up on that horrible cot on my birthday, AND missing the blissful prenatal massage Mark set up for me. Alas, they took mercy on me, and let us go home (luckily after rush hour...so at least we had that going for us).
So we're feeling good, but now very nervous that this baby could come literally any time. Like in weeks. It's another layer of stress that is starting to really take it's toll on me. I feel like I should just be concentrating on baby, but I can't bring myself to take leave super early.
Today I have to get all my appointments set up pretty much through the end of my pregnancy (however long that lasts).
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Week 28: Stickin' to It
So I'm on week 2 of my life as a gestational diabetic. I'm sticking my finger 4x a day to check my blood sugar levels. Luckily I'm only on dietary restrictions so far. When I stick to the eating, everything responds, so I'm very happy with that. At this week's checkup, they were only a little concerned that my fasting/AM tests were slightly high (but not alarmingly so). The good news is that it should level out over the next few weeks. I've come to accept this bump in the road as "the least of my worries." At first I was devastated by having yet another complication. But now I know it's manageable, so I've accepted it and I intend to keep it in check. Another thing I have to laugh at in order to cope. Another item on my "walking disaster" list.
Baby Z is also doing great. She's progressing really nicely, and we're still not seeing any signs of distress. The opposite actually. She's super active, and is starting kick hard enough to shake things up on the outside. She's also using my bladder as a bean bag chair, which is less fun. During her fetal echo yesterday, they had to chase her around again to get the pictures they needed. She was calming down a little for the scans, but this week she was being a little troublemaker - which was OK by me. I'm happy to suck it up and lay uncomfortably for as long as I have to in order to make sure they get good pictures. If I can't be tough, she can't be either, so I dig in every time.
On Monday we go back to Columbia to see another pediatric cardiologist. I'm anxious about this one, hoping to get more answers and more news on the plan. We're also set up for early January for a couple appointments with perinatologists and neonatologists. Plus, we have a consultation with the surgeon set for closer to the due date. I hope we make it that long. I'm afraid if we get that far, I'm going to be a basket case. We've made it this far though. My doctor says 28 weeks is a big milestone, and 32 is another one. So we'll see where we are from there.
I'm trying to enjoy this time of preparation, but I can't help having the hurt loom over my head. I also need to prepare myself emotionally for the post-birth journey and recovery. The NICU process is going to be tough. The surgery process even tougher. I've felt less fragile the last 2 weeks or so, but I feel like I'm just saving up for the big show later on. Either that or I'm just putting it on hold for now, like everything else.
It doesn't even feel like the holidays. We have our tree up, but it's only wearing lights & ribbon. The ornaments have yet to make it on - they're sitting in boxes all over the place though. It's kind of adding to this unprepared feeling I've been having. That, and our house is basically still a construction zone post tree-strike. Painting is finally happening this week. The contractor said the project would take 4 days start to finish. Painting on it's own is taking that long. Why is it that I still believe contractors after all the stories and jokes? Its a stereotype for a reason!
Baby Z is also doing great. She's progressing really nicely, and we're still not seeing any signs of distress. The opposite actually. She's super active, and is starting kick hard enough to shake things up on the outside. She's also using my bladder as a bean bag chair, which is less fun. During her fetal echo yesterday, they had to chase her around again to get the pictures they needed. She was calming down a little for the scans, but this week she was being a little troublemaker - which was OK by me. I'm happy to suck it up and lay uncomfortably for as long as I have to in order to make sure they get good pictures. If I can't be tough, she can't be either, so I dig in every time.
On Monday we go back to Columbia to see another pediatric cardiologist. I'm anxious about this one, hoping to get more answers and more news on the plan. We're also set up for early January for a couple appointments with perinatologists and neonatologists. Plus, we have a consultation with the surgeon set for closer to the due date. I hope we make it that long. I'm afraid if we get that far, I'm going to be a basket case. We've made it this far though. My doctor says 28 weeks is a big milestone, and 32 is another one. So we'll see where we are from there.
I'm trying to enjoy this time of preparation, but I can't help having the hurt loom over my head. I also need to prepare myself emotionally for the post-birth journey and recovery. The NICU process is going to be tough. The surgery process even tougher. I've felt less fragile the last 2 weeks or so, but I feel like I'm just saving up for the big show later on. Either that or I'm just putting it on hold for now, like everything else.
It doesn't even feel like the holidays. We have our tree up, but it's only wearing lights & ribbon. The ornaments have yet to make it on - they're sitting in boxes all over the place though. It's kind of adding to this unprepared feeling I've been having. That, and our house is basically still a construction zone post tree-strike. Painting is finally happening this week. The contractor said the project would take 4 days start to finish. Painting on it's own is taking that long. Why is it that I still believe contractors after all the stories and jokes? Its a stereotype for a reason!
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
It Just Keeps Coming
So far I am about 14 hours into week 27, and it's already been a roller coaster!
Yesterday, I found out my glucose test came back high. Sky high. We don't need a 3 hour glucose test because it's super high. I'm meeting with a diabetic counselor tomorrow to find out how this effects me. Not sure if it means meds or not. I'm half afraid that maybe it's my raging blood sugar that is the secret sauce keeping this baby girl afloat. Mark assures me that's not the case. I know the future can still be bright without Swedish Fish, but I'm a little nervous about having to add any meds to my already complex situation.
My Stamford docs are getting the ball rolling on really transferring my care to Columbia too. It's exciting and terribly scary. It's a great feeling that I'm being referred to some of the best doctors, but it also hits the reality of the situation pretty hard over my head. This is not a simple case, not run of the mill at all. I spoke to a coordinator today who ran down the list of appointments they're going to set up for me:
- Fetal Echo with the Pediatric Cardiologist I saw before
- Baseline Ulttrasound
- Consultation with Maternal Fetal Medicine/High Risk OB
- Consultation with a neonatologist who will prep us for a NICU stay
- Consultation with a Cardiothoracic surgeon who will let us know what we're looking at for post-delivery surgery
Sounds like a big day at the big hospital. Not sure when this day is yet, but we'll hopefully find out in the next day or two!
Yesterday, I found out my glucose test came back high. Sky high. We don't need a 3 hour glucose test because it's super high. I'm meeting with a diabetic counselor tomorrow to find out how this effects me. Not sure if it means meds or not. I'm half afraid that maybe it's my raging blood sugar that is the secret sauce keeping this baby girl afloat. Mark assures me that's not the case. I know the future can still be bright without Swedish Fish, but I'm a little nervous about having to add any meds to my already complex situation.
My Stamford docs are getting the ball rolling on really transferring my care to Columbia too. It's exciting and terribly scary. It's a great feeling that I'm being referred to some of the best doctors, but it also hits the reality of the situation pretty hard over my head. This is not a simple case, not run of the mill at all. I spoke to a coordinator today who ran down the list of appointments they're going to set up for me:
- Fetal Echo with the Pediatric Cardiologist I saw before
- Baseline Ulttrasound
- Consultation with Maternal Fetal Medicine/High Risk OB
- Consultation with a neonatologist who will prep us for a NICU stay
- Consultation with a Cardiothoracic surgeon who will let us know what we're looking at for post-delivery surgery
Sounds like a big day at the big hospital. Not sure when this day is yet, but we'll hopefully find out in the next day or two!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)