Today I was at the perinatal center for monitoring. I happened to glance up at the time the nurse stepped in the door to call someone back when I realized it was my favorite nurse from my pregnancy with Luke. She is mostly working at the perinatal near my house now (and I haven't done anything there except my second ultrasound), so I haven't seen her yet this pregnancy. She didn't even call my name, she smiled and motioned for me and I went back, and she told me she grabbed my file on purpose because she remembered my name. (I think Luke and his eventful monitoring sessions may have stressed her out as much as it stressed me out.) She was as awesome as ever. It's too bad they don't have doctors at the perinatal center by our house, because I'd love to get to see her for all my NST's again. (And not drive 30 to 45 minutes for them.) These days, though, I'm at the hospital for appointments weekly anyway so it actually is easier to have an appointment then monitoring right there in one chunk of time, it's just the second time of the week that it's a pain to drive out there only for that. Though with all of the drama and uncertainty, I feel better being by the hospital and with doctors there.
Baby boy looked good. And showed us he is a boy multiple times during my fluid checks, it was impossible to miss. I still don't understand how people with surprises can have monitoring and not see boy parts if they are having a boy unless they aren't watching a lot of the fluid check. Or maybe my boys are just super proud of their parts and like showing them off in ultrasounds. Anyway, while they were doing fluid checks, he was moving well, practicing breathing, fluid levels were normal, and he flipped back to head down again. He kept moving off the monitor for the NST so that was a little tricky, but eventually when I held it down where he was, he easily passed.
The only thing that has me wondering a little about how he's doing specifically, is that his/my amniotic fluid levels have gone from 18 to 15 to 13 in the last week and a half. They want it over 10, so at this trend, it could be at or below that next week. But there are a lot of explanations for the variance...like the fact that the measurements were done by 3 different people, or the fact that he was head down, then breech, then head down again. So it's not something I am super concerned with, knowing it could be right back up to 15 or more on Monday, but it's something I am "watching". Low fluid levels can be a sign of fetal distress--I had that with Olivia when things were bad--and that's why they check it with the NST every time.
I saw my high risk doctor briefly who was happy with how things looked, told me to start trying some stronger meds for the heartburn to see if that helps, and said she'll see me next week. So we are a couple hours away from 32 weeks and it is looking encouraging we may even make it to Oct. That's as much as I can dare to hope for just yet.
I am really looking forward to just vegging out around our house (hopefully getting some cleaning done...or SOMETHING constructive done...like laundry) tomorrow. Four appointments a week was time consuming enough when I was pregnant with Luke, now it's just a joke, it seems like there is no time for anything else. Next week I have 5 appointments between my OB, high risk doctor, 2x monitoring, and a dentist appointment...that's assuming I don't have to do any bloodwork or labs or a 24 hour urine, which I'm guessing is very likely in my future. Then Friday is Olivia's birthday (which I have hardly had time to think about while at the same time am thinking about it way too much.)
I half-heartedly packed a few things in a bag and threw it in the van today just in case I didn't get to leave the hospital. Important stuff like comfortable clothes, my Nook and charger, cell phone charger, toiletries, the camera, and an extra book. I think it's a pretty good prevention from getting admitted, because usually my hospital admissions have caught me unprepared...with Olivia I had my purse and a book and that was all. With my hand, nothing except my purse and my dad. (And Joe did a really bad job of packing clothes for me, thank goodness for my mom! He did get my Nook and chargers and laptop, but still, comfortable clothes are VERY important when you are stuck in the hospital.) Even with Luke, I had a bag mostly packed, but I was busy cleaning and planning to put a few more important things in it at the last minute when my water broke and that went out the window. (Important stuff like his baby book!) So still, we ended up calling my parents at some ungodly hour in the morning, I think like 2 or 3. And at first we just told them what happened but that they weren't planning on surgery till 7 so they could take their time. But then my contractions picked up and 7am turned into 4 am and suddenly we were calling them and asking them to go to our house ASAP to get the baby book so they could get his footprints/handprints done in it...they were literally wheeling me into surgery when someone in the room said, "Oh, here's the baby book!" So yeah, I'm thinking that as long as I keep a bag in the car on days I have appointments, maybe we can even make it to Oct.26th. I'll just have to try not to unpack it when I get low on laundry and stuff.
Our house is not so much a fun place to be at the moment. Luke is being
very much a 1.5 year old, which at the moment is exhausting. Joe is
stressed out about his work situation (contracts are still in limbo,
he's had a few interviews, pretty certain he will have *a* job, not so
sure it will be the same pay, etc.). And then there's me and this
pregnancy and trying to keep up with Luke and also worrying about Joe's
job and blech, blech, blech.
Luke is a little pistol, to put it mildly. I think his favorite thing in the universe is dogs, although he also really likes his cars and ride on toys and saying "beep beep" over and over. This morning my mom came over and watched him for a little bit while I had a new pediatrician "meet and greet", and when I got home, I managed to accidentally let our husky out. Luke got into the spirit of trying to catch him (holding my hand) by patting his legs and yelling "dog! dog!" like he always tries to do to get the dogs-any dogs, anywhere- to come to him (which has never ever worked, but the poor kid sees it works for Joe and I, so he keeps trying and trying.) Luckily, Koda stopped at a fenced yard a few houses away that had a couple of dogs out, tried his best to get in a fight with a pit bull in the yard but luckily the fence between them prevented it (I was actually more worried about him hurting another dog vs. getting hurt, he's such a pain in the butt.) My mom was still there and managed to grab our dog and drag him back to our house (and probably only bothered to try to catch him because she knew I would if she didn't). Ugh, dogs. But watching Luke hitting his leg and yelling "dog! dog!" so intently like it might just work, almost made "the chase" worth it. I could have done without having to carry him home kicking and screaming and trying to squirm out of my arms because he wanted to walk around the neighbors' yards (not people we know or have ever even seen before). So I'm not sure who actually had it worse, my mom dragging our 40+ lb husky by the collar while he tried to stop/pull away over and over (and FYI, huskies are pretty strong), or me carrying the 30 lb toddler trying to kick me in the face and jump out of my arms. Fun walk home.