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Places to Go:
Oh scan can you see?
Warning: Snork scan talk within
Last week the ultrasound tech told us that we could bring a VHS tape to today’s scan to record whatever antics the Snork was up to within. This created a mad search not only for a blank VHS tape but also an actual VHS tape player. A quick check of the house revealed that there was no longer a tape player but for some reason I felt like we had a blank tape. Last night Mother and I were gathered around my computer talking about how we would get a tape to convert to a VHS when I had an impulse to check my desk drawer- and lo and behold this drawer (that I honestly haven’t opened in probably 5 years) held not only one blank tape but also 2 tapes that I had made some 17 years ago.
Without even changing out of her work clothes Mother was off to tar-jay to fetch a VCR. And guess what? You can’t just buy a VCR anymore. What is available are the combos, which just seems like a space sucker, but you gotta buy what you gotta buy.
This morning I set off to the U/S on my own as Mother had the day off and she had offered to stay with GM who is still not bounding around at all. The wait was virtually nonexistent at the OB but the tech I was counting on was not there. Instead I had the tech from the original 18 week anatomy scan attempt. And as soon as I crossed the threshold of her room she stated, “Don’t touch me. I’m sick.” Great. Thanks for coming to work today!
I presented her with my blank tape and had visions of gathering the family around the TV and watching the images playback over and over. She put the tape in the machine with a, “I’m not so great at this. One of these days we will get a better machine.” oof.
She washed her hands twice and I laid back and prepared myself for the show. And there he was- in exactly the same position as he always is this time of day: head down, face out, and fast asleep. We could see him moving his lips and there would be an occasional jig in his feet, but the kid was asleep and loving it. The tech was able to get the 4 chambers of the heart and then I feel like she gave up.
She turned off the machine, helped me wipe the goo off my gut and told me that I had two options: I could either come back in another four weeks or she could fudge her report and send me to super fancy ultrasound land.
Of course NOT being able to get the scan is now a bit exhausting. I get that things weren’t greatly visible at 18 weeks, and sure maybe the tech for scan attempt #2 was in a rush and particular about her dates, but this scan felt like the tech was sick and wanted to pawn me off.
But that is just me having a bit of a pout. And really the source of the damn pout is that when the tech pulled the tape out of the recorder the entire thing pretty much broke. The ribbon was stretched and out of the tape case and pretty much useless. And as she is handing me the tape she is telling me how I will need to come back or go somewhere else and it just made me feel so defeated.
However the idea of going to a fancy place is nice and maybe this lady is doing me a favor. There is a rumor that fancy place can do recordable DVD’s. So. um. There is that.
The tech and I came to an agreement but I still I cringed a bit at her writing on my chart, “Chambers of heart not easily visible. Refer to ___________ for level II scan.” I made her swear that this was just us winking at the system (”the system” being my state funded insurance) and not really the truth. This was just what I needed to go along with in order to get fancified. Which I know for reals because the chambers I actually SAW.
By the time I got home I was deeply depressed that the tape we had tried to make was ruined. When I walked into the den I saw Mother stretched out on the sofa laughing at the tv. “You have GOT to see this!” Turns out she had started watching one of the tapes we had found in my desk drawer. These tapes were made when I was in the 9th grade and it was the start of my film-making itch. Somehow I had been trusted with a video camera and had been unleashed. The tape contained not only a tour of Mother’s and my house in Chattanooga, but also a documentary style take of my Grandfather’s 73rd birthday. Following the birthday was a class assignment interview of both GM and Grandfather discussing how they met, their marriage, and what it was like after the war. Utterly priceless.
At first it was almost painful to see my family like this. 17 years ago- long before Alzheimer’s, congestive heart failure, and any number of dramas that had unfolded since. It showed GM as sassy, plump and in control. My Grandfather looked and acted JUST as my memory had preserved him. But seeing Grandmother so changed was hard. I didn’t even recognize the southern lilt of her voice, how free and smart she sounded. It was, quite honestly, an entirely different person and it was incredible sad to see the authentic version of GM and know how she is now. How changed. How quiet and distant.
Halfway through the the interview on marriage I noticed GM stirring in her room so I helped her get on her robe and brought her out to the den. I wasn’t sure if seeing the tapes would be good, bad or sad/hard. Mother and I decided we would play it and if we saw signs of distress we could stop. So we got GM settled into her chair and pointed up at the television to see what her reaction was. At first I don’t think she recognized herself, but she knew Grandfather. We started the tape and the sound was difficult for her so we would pause every other sentence and repeat them loudly for her.
Sometimes she would ask Mother to clarify things, and at one point she asked Mother if any of her Grandparents were still alive. But other than that she seemed fascinated.
I need to research a way to get these VHS tapes transferred to a DVD. I know there are machines but I bet they are very expensive and I can’t imagine it would be worth it for just a handful of tapes. (we have since found a few others) Ages ago we took old home movies that were on film to a place and they put them on tape for us so I wonder if such a company exists now that can put tapes on DVD. research, research…
New Snork image on his page, but it is pretty much the same face shot we got last week. Although I do think his lips are particularly adorable.
The repeat scanner
Warning: Quickie post about a quickie Snork scan
Got everyone up and dressed this morning and to the OB’s office right on time. I had chugged a yummy glass of tart limeade ahead of time in the hopes that Snork would get a kick out of the beverage and bounce around for us. (not that I think Snork is a trained monkey…yet) We were excited, we were ready, we wanted to see some Snork Anatomy!
We had our favorite tech who frowned when I told her that we had come in at 18 weeks and were told to come back at 20 weeks. Her reply, “I tell people to come back at 21 or 22 weeks. This might be too soon for me.” um. Ok. (as if I am the puppetmaster for scan scheduling…)
So she squirted the goop on and moved the wand around quickly showing us the brain, the penis, the heart, and then said, “and there are all his other organs.” And that was that- maybe 3 minutes. Basically she wants me to come back NEXT week as she will be able to get a better view.
Now all of this “come on back for another scan” is great and it is also nerve wrecking. I asked the tech repeatedly if everything was ok. Is Snork looking healthy? Is he the right size? She said that all seemed normal and well and showed me how Snork’s toes were wiggling and assured me that that was a very good thing at this stage…and yet all I could think was that if everything was all hunky dory why do I need to come back?
I must have asked Mother ten times on the car ride home if she thought everything was ok. I hate that I need so much effing reassurance. But I think I am ok now. Mother pointed out that if there was something wrong that the tech would have hinted at that and that it just seems that different techs like to measure things at different times. So here is me letting go of the angst and instead focusing on the fact that we get another peak at the Snork next Friday. Watch me pump my fist into the air and proclaim, “woot”.
A new image is in the Snork Files if you want to take a peek at a future feminist.
A mix like no other
Warning: Post is about Snork
I read somewhere that the 19th week is when the Snork can hear sounds. My Mother, who is at the ready for each and every milestone, has decided that it is time to start playing music to my gut. And here is where I tell you that the idea of putting headphones on my stomach and playing fancy elevator music to my (hopefully) future kid is just weird. “But it will make him go to sleep and calm down”, is Mother’s retort. And maybe it will, and maybe I might play some Tchaikovsky at some point, because I do love some Firebird Suite. (which seems to be by some guy named Stravinsky. I got my -sky’s mixed up.)
But lullaby music and slowed down classical tunes have always skeeved me out. Maybe I have seen too many slasher movies where this kind of music preludes a crime spree, or maybe just the idea of being married to only these kinds of tunes for the first X months of Snork’s life is haunting enough, but there has to be a way that his first entrance into the amazing world of sounds can be just a bit, I don’t know…hipper.
And then this afternoon we decided to finally begin our marathon viewing session of the American remake of a British show that I lurved and as soon as David Bowie began to sing Life on Mars Snork began to shake his groove thing. Right then I knew that if Snork was going to respond that well to Bowie that the kid clearly had good taste in tunes.
And at just after 5pm I created the first, of hopefully many, mixes for my son. The mix includes the following artists (in alphabetical order by 1st name): David Bowie, Dolly Parton, Eagles, Elton John. Eurythmics, Janis Joplin, Joe Cocker, John Lennon, KC & The Sunshine Band, Patsy Cline, Paul Simon, Pointer Sisters, Rod Stewart and the Who.
Yesterday afternoon Mother decided that we should go to a “Green Baby Expo” in the parking lot of a shopping center near our house. I had convinced myself that it would be mellow and simple and I was freaked to discover that it was crowded and full of people wanting to hard sell us everything from cleaning supplies to organic onesies.
And everyone there had GIANT bumps or adorable babies. Many women even managed to have bumps AND babies. I had an excited Mother and a wheelchair bound Grandmother that was making herself dizzy trying to coo at every infant that she encountered. I was feeling very under-dressed. Did I mention that everyone else had accessorized with a beautiful bump or beautiful baby? I had edema and boob sweat.
You would think that the “us” and “them” feelings wouldn’t be as suffocating, but motherfucker, they are. I had extreme fight or flight feelings and was dizzy with sharp feelings of not fitting in or being welcome. Obviously this was all in my head, but it still blew me away how swiftly those infertile emotions could surface. Of course I was tempting fate- what was I THINKING going to a damn baby expo? Too soon. Way too soon.
sigh. One toe in and one foot out.
This week is going to be a bit jam packed: Tuesday BG Talula has her rescheduled vet visit & hair cut (she will be getting a partial lion cut for those interested), Wednesday is the continuing adventures of Snork’s anatomy scan, Thursday is GM’s arm surgery…and maybe Friday I will introduce the Snork to the Rolling Stones.
What? Worried?
Warning: This post has stuff about going to the OB’s
You know your day is going to be interesting when your first internet search item is “plus-sized compression stockings”. I somehow managed to escape the barfing, and the nausea was way more tolerable than I expected, and the fatigue was manageable. But the pregnancy symptom that has planted its flag has done so on both of my ankles. That’s right I have edema and it looks like it might be here to stay.
The swelling sort of crept up on me. I had a little bit of it and didn’t get too terribly bothered, but then sometime last week it went all kick ass on me and porked up both ankles with retained fluid. It was so bad that by the end of the day there was an actual crease of flesh where my ankle ended and my foot began. My ankles had muffin tops.
And because I am nothing if not a girl that likes information I decided to call my lovely liaison at the OB’s office to see what tricks of the trade she could offer to deflate my cankles. Instead of getting a mellow call back I got a FRANTIC, SOUND THE ALARM call back from one of the head nurses. She asked me questions about my face and my hands and if one ankle was thicker than the other and was I dizzy and how was my vision and how soon could I get into the office because this could be SERIOUS!!!!!
Well fuck. I do great spazzing about things on my own, and now I had a nurse that was basically giving me a green light to imagine the worst. I called Mother and cried and freaked out and thankfully she was able to translate and communicate well with a spazzed out Calliope. She googled all the worse case scenarios- right down to humoring me about worrying about having to go to the hospital. Seriously- worrying is a great skill that I have.
So my morning was a ballet of appointments. BG was due at the vet at 8:30am for a check up and a haircut, and I was told to be at the OB’s at 9:00am but expect to wait as all the OB’s were on call. I got BG to the kitty clinic and raced to the OB’s and was there by 8:30. I was able to know within 10 minutes of checking in that my urine was “all clear” (I’m guessing this means all clear of giant pellets of protein), and that my blood pressure was “really good” (woo hoo!).
An hour later I was finally meeting the OB that I had chosen this particular practice for. Her husband was Dr. Liver that was so so amazing during the great hepatitis C scare of 2007. I’m talking he called the Northeast clinic on my behalf and wrote one amazing letter and I really think that contributed to the lowered rate the Northeast clinic gave me. So obviously such a cool guy had to have a cool wife who would be a cool OB.
And she was! Her best friend is my primary doctor so she knew a little about me- specifically that I took care of GM. And the cool thing is that she also grew up in a house with 3 generations AND her grandmother is also fighting Alzheimer’s. I have liked all the other OB’s but I totally jived with this one and am really glad that she lived up to my hope. Not that I think you need to have a life parallel with your doctor, but it is really comforting to meet anyone that knows what care-giving at home is like.
The bottom line is that I have fat ass ankles because I am pregnant. ta da! I was told to elevate my feet, rest or sleep on my left side when possible, and get some good compression hose. Phew. I mean seriously. And the fucked up thing was that I wasn’t that concerned about the ankles to start with- but that nurse freaked me OUT. I guess fat ankles could be an early sign to some big ticket things, but good grief she didn’t need to alarm me so much. All she had to say was, “why don’t you come in so we can see”. ok, putting that flavor of anxiety behind me now.
When I left the OB’s I called home where Mother was kindly hanging with GM until I got back. I thought maybe BG would be ready to be picked up and I could fetch her on my way home. The good news was that she was ready to be picked up, and the bad news was that she was never seen because the vet had to go to the hospital. I collected madam kitty and we rode back home in silence, she didn’t meow once.
When we got home I opened the latch on her carrier and she slowly walked out and then turned and looked at me as if to say, “what the fuck was the point of all that?” I couldn’t agree more.
Now…back to my google search. Would it be too much to hope for plaid hose?
Yesterday’s post expanded
Warning: This post is all about Snork.
Friday morning was electric. There was this sort of energy in the air that had all of us buzzing about. I woke up crazy early and feeling worried as hell. It suddenly hit me that it had been well over a month since I had been reassured that everything with the Snork was ok. Sure I listened to the heart every Saturday morning in the comfort of my den, but I had been wrong before about Snork’s heart and maybe I was doing it wrong again. I suddenly felt so annoyed with myself that I had let so much time go by without proper anxiety.
And then, almost as quickly as the panic flew in, it flew out. I can not tell you how or why (because lawd knows I wish I could!) but I honestly felt like I had been out of breath and then instantly breathing just fine. It wasn’t like I had this inner peace that everything was going to be ok, I don’t work like that. But I did have peace that if something was fucked up that I would get through it. I know, doesn’t jive with the Cali that you guys know, but it’s what happened.
I went downstairs and let the dog out and woke Mother up. Mother had started to get freaked out that voting on Tuesday would take hours so she wanted to get up early Friday and go to the early voting place. And because I am a selfish brat that bothered me. I wanted Friday to be all about Snork and I was certain that if Mother took off to vote she wouldn’t be back in time to go to the OB’s office with us. Plus I selfishly didn’t want her to leave in case the panic came back. (Mother says to tell you that she was just a cell phone call away.)
But she left, and I got GM up and dressed in a clever outfit comprised of soft pink and royal blue. Before I had GM’s shoes on Mother was back proudly showing off her “I voted” sticker and talking about how fast and easy things were. I looked at her oval sticker on her shirt and was filled with giant covet. (I am still filled with pissed-offness over the local election place running out of stickers during the primaries.)
We concocted a plan that would allow me to shower, get dressed and then ALL of us would load in the car and I would stop and vote on the way to the OB. Obama before Oh baby. I wanted that fucking sticker!
Voting done we made it to the OB on the early side and joined the other families in the waiting room. I think GM felt like she had fallen through the looking glass because it was totally not jiving with her that yesterday was Halloween. Every other person she encountered was in elaborate costume and I caught her staring at them as if they would vanish before her eyes.
The waiting room was also filled with little girls: a woman with an adorable and pink covered baby, a pregnant gal with a wiggly toddler, and a couple with a girl who was probably around 5 or 6 that decided that GM was there for her to talk to. So as this 5 year old is explaining to GM that they are going to have a baby I start having flashbacks to my “signs from the Universe” self and begin to think that a waiting room filled with GIRLS means that Snork is going to be one too.
Finally when my name is called we all shuffle back to the ultrasound room and Mother rolls GM right up to the monitor for ringside viewing. I get the warm goop on my gut and as soon as the wand makes contact there is Snork’s head on the big tv. I remember telling myself over and over, “it’s real. this is real. this is happening.”
And while the images were so cute and so fucking reassuring it was also frustrating because the Snork was totally chilling and not in prime measurement position. The tech jiggled my belly and tried to do a wake up call but all we got was some adorable arm gyrations and the Snork moving from profile to face out. The tech was also grumbling that it was too early for me to be having my anatomy scan and that they should have booked me for mid November and it felt like she was about to wrap things up. But I asked if she would please do a sex check. She jiggled my gut again and Snork popped those legs open and there he was, all boy.
And having that confirmation, hearing the word “boy”, it was like someone dropped a quarter into a jukebox and the song of the rest of my life began to play.
We agreed that I should come back in two weeks (the day before GM’s arm surgery) to have the rest of the anatomy scan performed and as I was checking out one of my favorite nurses came running out to the front desk panting, “what is it?” I showed her the ultrasound photo and she congratulated me on my son. And before I could even understand that it was happening I was weeping. Giant messy tears. Tears of relief, tears of happiness, tears that something that I had desired for so so long was looking like it might be a reality. And the wonderful thing was that all the nurses and staff at the front desk totally got it and some even started to cry with me.
When I got back to the car Mother and I hugged and exhaled. I prodded GM to see if she had any sort of reaction. She did, and it was priceless GM: “well it was either going to be one or the other.” That it was.
I was sort of emotionally leaking for most of yesterday. In a good way. And while there was most certainly a point in my life where I couldn’t even imagine being a Mother to a son, as soon as I knew for sure, I couldn’t imagine anything else. This Snork is mine. I claim him for exactly who he is and who he will be. I hope he claims me as well.
The Snork reveals…
Happy Halloween everyone!
We get a bonus scan in 2 weeks since the Snork was alseep and we couldn’t get acurate measurements of the heart chambers and other important bits. But we certainly got to see his tally wacker!
Go on. Take a guess.
Just a few hours from now we will know for sure, but I thought I would open up a poll for any guessing you might feel up to. Of course based on the 12 week scan there might have been a little something…but I have since been told that at 12 weeks we all had a little something.
I’m guessing the Snork is a:
- Boy (65%, 171 Votes)
- Girl (35%, 92 Votes)
Total Voters: 263
Loading …A Tale of Two Appointments
Warning: OB appointment talk is mixed in with GM talk
Yesterday morning I woke GM up early so that I would have plenty of time to get her dressed before we left for my appointment at the OB’s. This morning I woke up GM early so that she would have plenty of time to have something to eat before the “no food after 8:30am” bell struck.
Yesterday morning I was upbeat and chipper. I merrily pulled her sucks on and winked at her as I buttoned her pink oxford shirt. This morning I held back tears of anxiety as I performed the same tasks.
Yesterday morning GM and I arrived right on time to our appointment and tried to amuse ourselves in the lobby waiting for my name to be called. This morning GM was full of anxiety as she could not remember how to urinate. We were almost late to the appointment today as she was so afraid to leave the house as she worried she would have an accident. She didn’t understand what was happening, why it was happening or where it was happening.
Yesterday GM squeezed my toe as the OB pulled out the doppler and we all happily listened to Snork’s heartbeat. This afternoon I squeezed GM’s hand as the tech pushed the radiotracer into her vein at the delicate inner bend of her elbow.
Yesterday was upbeat and happy. Hopeful and intoxicating with relief. Today was tedious and hard. Today I went into overdrive to push the fear out of my body and yet I know it is still squatting.
It is utterly chaotic in my head to have thoughts of Snork, seemingly thriving, and then thoughts of GM maybe not doing so well. I feel lucky and yet unlucky.
This afternoon, as GM was up on a table being slowly pulled through an imaging device, I sat in a dark room waiting, praying. And I can’t say for sure, but in the middle of my sending my hopes and thoughts out into the universe I felt Snork deep within me. And the duality of life right now slays me.
A Page from the Snork Files
Warning: This post is all about you know what
Partly for posterity and partly to satisfy those of you that have sweetly asked, here is a little post on life with Snork. I have felt almost reluctant to have tons of posts about, ok I’m at the point where I am going to say it, pregnancy. This is mostly because for three years I yearned and yearned for this moment and could never really deal well with blogs that shifted so easily from trying to achieving. These are my own issues and not at all about other bloggers. I’m so used to writing about wanting and trying and failing that it feels so absolutely foreign to not be going through that. (here is where I ask all of you to touch wood) I know that many of you have been with me, cheering me on and holding me up and I want you to be a part of this new chapter.
* I do not look pregnant. Not one bit. I look fatter in my gut. Mother says I am showing a “little bit” in the lower belly. This is to say that belly shots will most likely not make an appearance for now.
* I feel pretty good. Sure I am all about a good nap, but since I am no longer on the progesterone I don’t feel like I am walking under water.
* I pee a lot. As in probably every hour when I am awake (Mother says I have to pee every time I stand up) and every 2-3 hours when I am asleep. I also am having a love affair with water and consume buckets of the stuff. Something tells me all the water drinking and all the peeing are connected…
* I weep randomly. It seems like I can not get through an anecdotal story without crying- even if I am just recapping a television show. I also can no longer sing along to the radio as every song makes me cry.This morning I cried singing along to Mustang Sally.
* Food stuffs I love: Barq’s root beer, nectarines, tomatoes, and of course pot stickers. Oh and flavored chips, ALL vegetables, and anything salty/savory. Going to so many waiting rooms for either myself of GM means lots of magazines with recipes. Friday I found myself literally drooling over some corn side dish recipe in a way back issue of Real Simple
* I am getting much better at finding Snork’s fetal heartbeat. The last check-in was this past thursday at 163 bpm. That Snork has some good rhythm. (clearly this is something s/he is getting from Churchill)
* Even though the ultrasound tech said the penis word at the 12 week scan I am trying to let my mind be neutral on the issue. For several days after that scan I found myself trying on the concept of son and sort of amazed that it was such a nice idea. But in a full disclosure moment, when we got the call that GM could be really sick I totally wept out loud that I wanted a daughter. I go back and forth now. I think there are many reasons why the concept of “daughter” seems so exciting, but one of the reasons why “son” scares me is all totally wrapped up in my status as a single woman who worries that she will not be enough.
* And here is a question for other women/couples that have conceived via donor sperm: At what point do you call the sperm bank? For some reason I feel like calling now would jinx things, but I was curious about what some of you did. Churchill was a proven donor when I “hooked up with him”, but I am not sure of the protocol.
* Side note about sleep- I do love it. I usually am heading up to bed around 9:30. I really miss Jon Stewart.
* GM doesn’t actively remember anything about the Snork, but if Mother or I say something about it she gets really excited and claps her hands. I meditate on a future image of GM holding Snork in her lap.
I’m not sure what else to add. If you have anything to ask that I am missing let me know. It feels so weird to even have written this much!
All I can say is WOW.
WARNING: Do not read this post if you are in or near ‘The Bad Place’. Sunshine & Rainbows ahead…
Oh my goodness. The Snork is alive! It popped right up on the screen and you could immediately see the heartbeat. Of course I started crying and this giant headache I didn’t even realize I had lifted. Mother & GM were able to watch everything on a giant screen and the sono tech was awesome in pointing things out to us. There are arm buds and a giant head. And as Mother stood up to show these things to GM on the screen the Snork actually moved and started bouncing around. It looked like a peanut doing a jig.
Everything is measuring exactly on target and according to the tech is “perfect”. (my most favorite word)
If I said I was relieved that wouldn’t cover it. But luckily I can sort of spread my arms out and sigh and know that you all know exactly what I mean.
Thursday morning I still have my paperwork and nurse appointment to go over the schedule. And everyone will be getting LOTS of thank you muffins!
New image in The Snork Files.
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