Metformin? Sucks.
Archive for November, 2008
Metformin
Posted in medication side effects, pre-cycling on November 21, 2008| 7 Comments »
No Zen This Week
Posted in migraines on November 20, 2008| 9 Comments »
This week I went alone to our parenting class because our babysitter couldn't make it and I wasn't able to find a back up in time. So I was driving along to the class and I was nearing my exit on the highway when the exit signs started to get blurry. Then the license plates on the cars in front of me got blurry. I could still see well enough to distinguish cars and lanes and such, but things weren't clear enough to read. I got off the highway and my vision cleared up. I called Seth and he suggested that it was probably a migraine aura, indicating I was about to get a migraine. He was right, of course, but this was a very unusual aura for me. I was only a few blocks from the class, so I got to the building and parked, got out of the car, and everything went completely blurry again. If things had been this blurry while I'd been driving, I absolutely would not have been able to continue driving. I got into the lobby of the building and the doctor teaching the class was standing there and he asked how I was and I said, "You know? Not so great; I've got this funny vision thing going on and I really can't see anything." I explained that I was fairly certain it was a migraine coming on and I needed to take medicine and see if that stopped the migraine from coming on, but that there wasn't much else to be done.
We got up to the board room, and I dug through my purse for pain medication. I handed the bottle to Dr. S. and asked him what it said (I really couldn't read it) and he confirmed it was what I was looking for, so I took two, and sat down and class started. I must say, I have absolutely no idea what was said in that class. I know some questions were asked. I know I answered some of them. I was sitting right next to Dr. S. I interacted. I listened. I didn't read my handout, because it hurt my eyes to try. And I retained absolutely nothing from the entire class.
Halfway through the class, I called Seth and told him that although my vision was clearing up, I was in excrutiating pain and wasn't sure whether I'd be able to drive by the time class was over. I was afraid if I waited until the end to decide, I would find myself stranded there. Fortunately, his mother had just come back with J, so she was able to stay at the house with all the kidderoonies, while he came to pick me up. I sat through most of the rest of class trying to absorb some of the details of the class, but not really able to focus through the pain.
Finally, just as Dr. S was finishing up his portion and right before we broke into the parent discussion session (the last half hour is just parent discussion facilitated by a social worker, without Dr. S.), Seth arrived. Seth handed me two tylenol with codeine, and then we went outside to assess whether I could drive home with him following me. Dr. S. came out and suggested that this would be a very bad idea. I didn't want to leave my car out there because it would make things very difficult for me the next day, but I also knew that driving probably wasn't really wise in case my vision went all wonky again. Fortunately, Dr. S. doesn't have an advanced degree for nothing, and he was smart enough to suggest that another couple in the class might live near us and probably drove together.
Indeed, they did drive together, and they were kind enough to drive my van home after class had finished, so Seth and I went home in his car.
Later I read the handouts from class and realized that the topic of discussion was "Motivation through Positive Attention" – giving lots of positive attention and praise to your child for positive behaviours. Fortunately, this happens to be one of my strong suits as a parent already, so I think I'm good. Plus, I'm seeing Dr. S. tomorrow, so I can always ask him any questions I need to.
In other annoying medical news, today I had to get a steroid shot in my hand because it has really hurt to bend my pinky for about 2 months. Now it really, REALLY hurts to bend my pinky. Thanks a lot, Doc. (I'm hoping that the LONG term effect is an overall positive effect and that the pain from the shot is temporary)
dye with HSG
Posted in breastfeeding, pre-cycling on November 20, 2008| 3 Comments »
Hey this may seem really stupid, but does anyone know what kind of dye is used with an HSG? And do you know whether there’s any problem breastfeeding after an HSG? My guess is there’s no problem since it’s injected into the uterus, not into the bloodstream, but, of course, it goes out through the fallopian tubes (assuming no blockages) and absorbs into the body, so who knows.
Clearly I can ask my doctor this, and obviously the two best doctors to ask this are the radiologist who does the HSG and my pediatrician… but I’d rather ask before the day of which means the radiologist isn’t the best candidate and I can’t really ask my pediatrician without knowing what kind of dye they use. I guess I’ll go acquaint myself with Dr. Google…
Clearly if I manage to wean before then, this will not be an issue.
Edit: As Chris noted, it’s an iodine dye used, either water based, or oil based. I can’t find any article suggesting that there’s any issue with breastfeeding, but I’m sure my husband will be able to answer that for me in about two seconds once he gets home. I can’t, for the life of me, think of ANY reason why iodine would be incompatible with breastfeeding, though occasionally (rarely, even) women have allergic reactions to the dye, so I guess your babies could too, if there was any way it could be excreted in the breastmilk, but my guess is that even if it could be excreted in the breastmilk it would be in such a small concentration it would be nearly irrelevant.
Money Matters, Labwork, and Moving Forward
Posted in pre-cycling on November 20, 2008| Leave a Comment »
I talked to the financial coordinator at The Hatchery on Tuesday. She went over my benefits for fertility coverage. We’re covered so long as my husband and I have been married for at least a year (check) and he’s been employed by the hospital for at least two years (check). I have to fax a copy of our marriage license to her to prove we’ve been married at least a year (are you KIDDING me?).
- We are covered for 4 IUIs, with no dollar limit on those. No thank you. Not walking down that road again.
- We are covered for IVF up to $30,000: approximately 2 IVF cycles.
- We are covered for $10,500 for medications.
- We are NOT covered for embryo freezing and storage ($1100 for freezing and $540/year for storage).
- We have a $1000 copay per IVF procedure.
This is very good coverage, but far less than I had under my previous coverage. Since we’re hoping to do single embryo transfers, being limited to two covered IVF’s is a bit daunting, but it’s definitely better than nothing. I am somewhat concerned about it, but I’m trying not to let the financial consideration get in the way of the medical data that I know supports my stance on this matter.
I had my CD3 and Infectious Disease Labwork drawn yesterday. I don’t think they’re planning to call me with the results of all of that, since I’m not actively cycling. I did schedule my HSG for next Tuesday, so maybe while I’m there, I’ll ask how it all turned out. I like to know these things. It was a two hour ordeal to get it drawn, between the 50 minute drive up there, the 45 minute wait, the 15 minutes sitting in the chair, getting it drawn, and getting out of the lab, stopping over at my husband’s office a block away to get a bottle of water and some moral support, and the 50 minute drive back. Yippee.
I spoke with the Infertility Nurse Coordinator yesterday morning before I went out there for my bloodwork and scheduled the HSG, as I noted already. She said I could just do a sonohystogram (sp?) if I’d prefer, because the only reason to know whether my tubes are unblocked would be if we convert my IVF cycle to an IUI (over my dead body) and since I’ve had an HSG before, they could assume my tubes are unblocked unless something’s happened since then. But I’d just as soon know what we’re working with. The HSG didn’t bother me so much the first time around, and frankly, even if it had, uncomfortable tests don’t bother me. It’s not about my comfort, it’s about the end result. I want the baby in the end. The singleton, preferably.
After I get my next period in December (assuming that happens), I’ll start birth control pills, and sometime in January, I’ll start my IVF protocol. Holy cow. This is a huge deal.
One more point before moving forward. I’ve decided that in light of Dr. McBrusque’s preference to do a two-embryo transfer and in light of the fact that I have a limited number of IVF attempts in front of me, which might, unfortunately, affect the game day decision for how many to transfer… I’ve decided that I definitely need to have a pre-pregnancy consult with my perinatologist. I had been planning on doing this regardless, but I felt fairly stupid doing so with the prospects of most likely having a singleton, but if we’re facing much higher odds of twins, I am a little more worried. I had such a horrendous pregnancy (not that I didn’t love it, mind you!), and I don’t know how much of it was attributable to the high order multiple factors, how much of it was attributable to just being a multiple pregnancy in general, and how much of it was attributable to my body just not doing pregnancy well in the first place. There was some thought throughout my pregnancy that I probably would have had serious contraction activity, even with a singleton, but I imagine there’s no way to predict whether those contractions would have affected my cervical length so drastically in a singleton pregnancy. I also don’t know if I’m at a more significant risk of developing preeclampsia in a subsequent pregnancy now that I’ve had it before, and if so, whether that risk increases if it is a multiple pregnancy (I’m sure the risk increases if it is a multiple pregnancy). I do think these are questions that at least need to be asked before I go putting myself at a very real risk of ending up with a twin pregnancy. If my perinatologist says “Twins would be a very high risk for you,” then that ends the debate; there will be no game day decision to make, and we’ll only consider SET’s (Single Embryo Transfers) .
The important thing to note is that the more removed I get from Monday’s appointment, the more I realize that it wasn’t an all together negative appointment. I had a two-hour post-mortem lunch with LJ and it really helped me put a lot of it into perspective and focus on the positive. I know that a lot of what is colouring my opinion of the whole thing is the 40mile commute, and I definitely didn’t love his bedside manner. But he is otherwise an excellent doctor with a lot of experience and I do trust his medicine, even though he doesn’t always do things in the way that I’m used to having things done. Change, after all, is not always a bad thing. It’s just that I don’t always deal very well with change, so it’s taking me some time to adjust.
Meeting with Dr. McBrusque
Posted in pre-cycling on November 19, 2008| 8 Comments »
Yesterday, my husband and I met with the reproductive endocrinologist (RE) at our new clinic, henceforth referred to as “The Hatchery”*, yesterday. Not to be unoriginal or anything, but we’ll refer to the doctor as Dr. McBrusque, because, well, that’s what he was: brusque.
I should note that I had to fight very hard not to walk into this clinic with a chip on my shoulder. There are so many things I don’t like about the clinic without even having walked in the door, that I had to actively work against walking in with a negative impression without even having met the doctor. It was an extremely difficult exercise, but I think I had some success in walking in the door with a relatively open mind.
The clinic is about 35-40 miles away, which is one strike against it. It is, admittedly, one block from my husband’s office (he works for the same hospital), which makes it convenient for him, but unfortunately he’s not the one who has to be there nearly so often as me. The clinic has only one doctor; another strike against it. They do batched IVFs, which I don’t love because it takes a lot of control and flexbility on timeline away from me. Three strikes against it before I’ve even walked in the door. But we’re keeping an open mind, remember?
So I drove up to the clinic, which is located in one of my least favorite cities in the entire world, and we were early enough that my husband and I were able to grab a late lunch together. One point in the clinic’s favor – close to yummy kosher food… it’s a very, very small point since it is very rare that I’ll have the time while I’m there to do anything about it, but hey, it’s worth noting. I arrived at the clinic and walked in, noting that the fertility clinic is actually housed within the Women’s Health Center for the hospital. This means it is the OB/GYN and midwives offices. Yeah. This would be another strike against the clinic. I know I’ve already got a gaggle of kids, but that doesn’t mean I want to be sitting next to a pregnant woman when I’m in the middle of a cycle, or right after a negative beta, or an early loss, or whatever. I just want no part of that. I’ve never had a normal pregnancy and I still have a hard time with that. So I don’t really want to be sitting in an OB/GYN’s waiting room every time I need to go for cycle monitoring. I guess the one good thing is that the fertility practice is very small, so hopefully the waiting times won’t ever be very long.
I was called back to get vitals taken and fill out a fertility history form (you know the one, been there, done that). I hadn’t finished filling out the form when Dr. McBrusque called us back. No biggie, he’s perfectly capable of taking a history all by himself. He informed me that he had a med student in his office. Now, I know this is nitpicky, but while I recognize this is a teaching hospital – and I would never say she couldn’t sit in on the consultation – I expect to be asked if I’m okay with having a voyeur in on my consult (particularly a physical exam – which happened at the end of the appointment, which she was also present for).
Dr. McBrusque asked what brought us into the office and I told him we have a set of high order multiples (point in his favor: he did not laugh us out of his office right then and there) resulting from 6 IUIs, and we’re just crazy enough to want more, but one at a time. I explained that I hadn’t wanted anything to do with IUI in the first place because of the risk of multiples, and that we’d spent as much on 6 IUIs as we could have spent on 1-2 IVFs. So, he said, you want to do IVF now. No problems there. First hurdle crossed – I was worried I’d have to have the old argument all over again: “But IUI obviously works for you! Why not try it again?” Yes, it works for me, all together too well! (plus, each individual cycle odds are too low… it took 6 cycles to have a successful pregnancy)
And then we hit a bit of a wall.
“So how many embryos do you want?”
“You mean in general? or to transfer?”
“To transfer.”
“Oh, I want Single Embryo Transfers.”
“Wow. Um. Wow.”
I’m telling you, I thought he might fall out of his chair right then.
“I know. You’ve never done an elective single embryo transfer.”
“No, I haven’t. How do you know that?”
“I’ve read your SART Stats. Don’t think I don’t know them forwards and backwards. And don’t think I’m not walking in here not loving that you’ve never done an elective single embryo transfer. I can be your first.”
We talked for a while about why he wouldn’t recommend a single embryo transfer, and why I don’t agree with him (the data right now is clearly supporting single embryo transfers in patients my age with my history, ASSUMING that I end up producing decent embryos when the time comes). While I was there, I really felt like he wasn’t going for it, but in retrospect, he really did say he would do his best to keep an open mind about it come transfer time, which is really all I’m asking. I’m definitely of the opinion that if there’s a compelling medical reason to transfer two come transfer time, that’s what we’ll do. But I just want to go into this with the mindset that we’re going to try to consider single embryo transfers if at all possible, even understanding that we may be taking a greater risk of negative betas per individual cycle. He also said that maybe with me he’d consider doing blastocyst transfers, which he normally doesn’t do. This surprised me, but he said he used to do blast transfers, which resulted in a very high pregnancy rate, but didn’t result in any more babies, so they stopped doing it. Their pregnancy rate went down a little once they stopped doing blasts, but their live birth rate stayed stable. Weird, huh? Anyway, he said for me, it may be a consideration, so he was definitely keeping my specific circumstances in mind when he was talking to me.
I asked how he would deal with the increased risk of OHSS (ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome) since I have PCOS. I said I’m a very high responder to stims, and this was something that my old clinic was planning to address by keeping me on Lupron longer than typical. He said he would take the opposite approach and not use Lupron at all. He said that he has long suspected that Lupron is actually a contributing factor to hyperstimulation in patients like me and that there is now some emerging data to support that suspicion that has been presented at some recent conferences. The reasoning is this: if the Lupron keeps you suppressed, then you have to aggressively use the stims to overcome the effects of the Lupron, but then you can’t control it. Even if you back off a little bit, your body is already responding to the high doses of stims you pumped into it. So it hyperstims as a result. This actually makes sense to me. He prefers, instead, to use an antagonist protocol instead of the agonist protocol because you can control it. This sounded like a reasonable approach to me, and Lupron is evil, so I’m all about skipping the Lupron.
He prescribed me metformin again. I haven’t been on it since early in my pregnancy, but I did get benefit from it before, and it makes sense to be on it again, because the last time I was in treatment I was on it, so I’ll respond differently to stims this time if I’m not on it. I really did want to be back on metformin anyway, so it’s win-win all around. Even better… Dr. McBrusque may be brusque, with not much of a bedside manner, but he did do one thing really, really right. After I’d left the office and I was driving, he called me on my cell phone and said he just wanted to let me know that metformin is not recommended for breastfeeding mothers. I really appreciated this follow through, because I’m certain that he rarely thinks about drugs and breastfeeding, since really… how often is he faced with a breastfeeding mother? And also, that he took the time to call me on my cell phone says a lot… he could have
just left a note for his nurse to call me in the morning. (Anyway, he and I talked more about it and he said it boils down to not knowing whether it’s okay, but that it does show up in breastmilk, but my pediatrician had more thorough information about it, and they’re fine with me using it, particularly since the babies are not nursing very much anymore…just 1-2 times per day, and they’re going to be weaning very soon regardless)
After we finished talking, and he wrote up a lab slip for a pile of lab work (did I mention that yesterday happened to be CD1? How convenient!), he took me to the next room over to do an exam. I’ve never had this at a consult with an RE… and it caught me by surprise. It was particularly frustrating because, hello? CD1! Ick. But whatever, I’m sure he’s dealt with more disgusting things in his life. I didn’t love that the med student was again in the room without my permission being asked. There were a lot of people in the room – Dr. McBrusque, a nurse, the med student, me… and it was a tiny little exam room. Again, I wouldn’t have said no, but if you guys are going to be all up-close and personal with my lady-bits, don’t you think you could ask my permission?
And that was pretty much it. I was on my way. The whole appointment, including the exam, took about an hour. So I’ll admit, he was thorough. Unfortunately, I didn’t have my records from my old clinic with me, because they haven’t sent them yet. But he said whenever I get them, he’ll review them carefully, but admitted that he wouldn’t get SO much out of them, since I’m changing from IUI to IVF.
The hardest thing is having to get all the way up there for appointments. And the fact that they do their monitoring appointments between 8 and 9am. That’s utterly ridiculous… I won’t get to work before 10am if that’s the case. I don’t know HOW I’m going to explain this one, and I don’t really want to tell my job I’m going through fertility treatment. If I only had ONE other kid, that would be one thing, but I already have a small gaggle, so people look at me a little funny if I tell them. So how am I going to explain a doctor’s appointment that keeps me out of the office every couple of days for a couple weeks? Sigh.
Our insurance essentially covers 2 IVF cycles, plus $10K in medications. I know I’m very lucky to have insurance coverage at all. I know I’m very lucky to have this opportunity to try. But I definitely feel the pressure.
Next steps: CD3 bloodwork tomorrow, precertify everything with the insurance (their financial coordinator is working on that now), wean the babies, new semen analysis, repeat HSG (mine is 3 years old), mock embryo transfer, and… IVF.
—————————–
*Kudos to my friend, J, for the pseudonym, “The Hatchery” for the new clinic. Even if I wanted to disclose the name of the clinic… the real name of the place is so long and boring and stupid, I can’t even stand saying it in real life, so I was looking for something catchy to call it anyway.
And hey… while I’m giving credit where credit is due, I owe LJ big time for the blog name. She rocks.
Inaugural Post
Posted in pre-cycling on November 18, 2008| 11 Comments »
This blog is for the sole purpose of writing about my return to fertility treatment, now that I already have a set of high order multiples. Am I crazy? Yeah, probably. Am I asking for more than I have a right to ask for? Definitely. But I love my children, all of them. And I always knew I wanted a big family, though I definitely expected to build that family one at a time, one pregnancy at a time. I definitely didn’t want it all over with in one pregnancy, and I definitely didn’t want my messed up biology dictating my family size for me.
In many ways I feel selfish and horrible for wanting this and pursuing it. But I also know that I would never be asked to justify my desire for more children if I was able to conceive without my legs up in stirrups.
I made this blog so that I could document this return to fertility treatment away from my regular blog, because I don’t need the nitty gritty details of my cycles and my biology to be fodder for friends and family to gawk at right now. I don’t want failed cycles to be public knowledge. And I don’t want a positive pregnancy test to be news spread around my neighborhood until I’m ready for that news to be spread (I already had one relatively late loss that everyone I knew was privvy to… I don’t need to repeat the experience on purpose).
I’ll post the details in a new post, but the basic background is this:
I am 32 (33 in Jan), my husband is 36.
I have PCOS.
We previously experienced five years of primary infertility and went through 5 clomid cycles and 6 IUIs with Follistim, which resulted in 2 pregnancies: 1 which ended in miscarriage and 1 which produced a set of high order multiples.
We also have a foster son.
Our children bring us more joy than we ever imagined possible. We are incredibly blessed and obviously if we never had another child, we would consider ourselves lucky to have the blessings that we already have. Still, I know that I have room in my heart to love another and I desperately want that for my family. I’m clearly certifiable.
This time around, we’re turning to IVF, hopefully with single embryo transfers, though obviously, that may be a game-day decision. We have a new doctor, a new clinic, a new insurance company, and a lot of new waters to navigate. Let the games begin!
The Last Word on Infertility
Posted in Infertility sucks a giant black hole of suckiness on November 18, 2008| 41 Comments »
I'm not going to write on this blog any more about this stage of our infertility journey. I may still post occasionally about the topic in general. After all, infertility is a large part of my identity now. But this stage of the journey won't be posted here; I'll be posting elsewhere.
This includes the details of my appointment with the RE yesterday, which didn't go as well as I'd hoped, but didn't go as badly as I feared it might, so all in all, it was a wash, so to speak.
I know it's ridiculous that I'm starting Yet Another Blog (YAB), but I just can't think of another solution.
Time In: The Zen of Parenting
Posted in ADHD, J-Man on November 15, 2008| 8 Comments »
We're taking a class entitled "Parenting the Challenging Child," that is being taught by our developmental pediatrician. It's interesting, actually, because many of the techniques and philosophies being presented in the class are things that he has already presented to us in our appointments with him, but now we are seeing them presented in a much more methodical manner, rather than in the more bandaid-approach we've been getting.
One of the key philosophies of the course is that techniques like "time-out" and ignoring undesireable behaviors only work effectively if it is time-out from positive attention. So before adding the negative, reactive strategies to our parenting toolkit, so to speak, we are building our strategies for positive, proactive strategies. Last week, we talked about the importance of "Time In."
Time in is much what it sounds like – in many ways it's the opposite of a time out. It is time spent with your child, but it's more than that. It's not just ANY time spent with your child. There are rules, you see. Time in isn't an opportunity to teach. It's not a time to discipline. It's not a time to be a parent, per se. It's a time to let your child BE a child, and for you to spend time with your child BEING that child. You don't answer the phone, you don't do dishes or make dinner in the kitchen while you're half-paying attention to what your child is doing in the other room. You don't ask any questions, you don't give any instructions. Unless your child tries to do something truly dangerous like lighting the cat on fire, you don't issue any reprimands. This time (15-30 minutes a day, ideally) is completely child-led play time. You should try to see the world through your child's eyes for this brief period of time. Instead of asking questions about what your child is doing, you should comment on, or narrate, what your child is doing, give lots of positive praise, and play along, or take directions from your child, but really let your child lead the way. Your child should be the one to decide what happens during this time, you shouldn't be the one dictating any of the activities or the nature of the play. Like I said, hard as it may be, this is not a time for teaching moments, or for interrogations (no questions!! This is the hardest part!), or for reprimands. Make sure that you've got a child-safe and child-friendly environment where your child is free to act like a child free from admonishments to not touch that, or not go there, or not do that, or whatnot.
Get the idea?
This wasn't my first introduction to the concept of Time In. Several books discuss the concept; most recently when I read Russell Barkely's "Taking Charge of ADHD" I was reminded that we should be practicing the art of Time In. Dr. S. had emphasized the importance of Time In during our office visits. But I'm not good at Time In. I'm okay with generally spending time with my kids. But this specific kind of Time In technique? Not my strong suit. Seth? Seth is great at it. He's a natural at this kind of Zen Parenting where you can just let your kid be a kid and let all the parenting instincts and teaching moments and reprimands go. Seth gets in the moment and crawls around on the floor and builds legos and wrestles and lets J lead the way. Me? If you take away my questions, my teaching moments, my ability to lead in any way… I get tense. There's no Zen of Parenting in Time In for me. So the whole Time In thing has naturally fallen to Seth, not really on purpose, but because it's his strength and my weakness. We're a team and we play to our strengths, right?
But that's cheating, according to Dr. S, and we have to learn to share responsibility and share the fun. So last week, after our class on Time In, our homework was to practice our Time In technique. Mommy isn't used to not doing well on her homework, so I was determined to make this work! Thus began my first foray into the world of Time In.
J was playing with Transformers and I started to play with him. He didn't like what I was doing, so he switched Transformers with me. I hate Transformers, passionately, so I was sort of at a loss for what to do or say. "Golly what a nifty Transformer, and gee, how deliciously violent this game is" somehow seemed terribly inadequate. I was tense and fairly miserable. "Grr!" I said. "My guy is attacking your guy!" "No he's not," J said, "My guy has a shield and he blocked your guy! Take that! Kablam! Kablam!" I stifled the urge to remind J that we don't like him making shooting sounds. "Um, well, then my guy has shields too and um, your weapons can't penetrate them!" "No, your guy doesn't have shields, and now I shot him," J countered. This wasn't going well.
"Gosh, J, this is a really neat Transformer! Can you show me how to make him back into the sports car??" Whoops! The Time In Purist would be tapping the table to remind me that I'd just broken the cardinal rule of Time In… not only had I asked a question, but I'd redirected the play. Fortunately, it didn't backfire this time. "Oh yeah, look at this, Eema! It is SO cool! You do it like this, and you move that around, and then you…"
I gradually became more comfortable playing with him, and we chased each other around the living room. I became a giant transformer-eating monster, waving my arms about and stomping my feet in Frankenstein-like movements toward him.
And then it happened. I finally experienced the true moment of Zen Parenting:
J jumped up onto the couch, bounced over onto the chair, jumped to the automan, bounced back over to the couch and climbed onto the back of the couch and declared himself the winner (winner of what? I'm not really sure). J knows that my absolute most non-negotiable rule in the living room is that he may not climb up on the furniture and bounce around on it as if it is a playground. He knows it is a sure-fire way to test what kind of mood I'm in. But just as I was about to remind him to get off the couch, I remembered that would be against the rules. Not only did I not have to reprimand him right then and there, I wasn't allowed to. He wasn't in immediate danger, the cat wasn't about to be set on fire, it was time to just let this one go.
In that moment I felt like all my tension just went out of my body and I was free. Finally I could just let J be J. I could just be with him and see the world from his perspective – perched upon the back of the couch, and you know what? It looked really nifty from up there. I understood what drove him to be up there, for just a moment. For that moment I didn't have to be the mean old mom who has all these rules. I got to be the cool mom who overlooked that relatively minor infraction in the grand scheme of things. And then? The giant transformer-eating monster scooped in, picked him up off the back of the couch, tickled him, and wrestled him down to the floor, giggling madly, with nary a reprimand to be heard. Mission accomplished. No arguments. No fighting. No pushbacks. And without missing even a second of quality time with my son.
Since then, I've made it a point to spend time differently with J, even when it isn't specifically Time In time. I try to be more animated while I'm talking with him, I let him lead the discussions more, I respond to the things that he's saying and I try not to just say, "uh huh" when he's talking about something I couldn't care less about (like transformers). Even if I'm feeding the babies and he's standing there talking to me, I can still make him feel like he's got a few minutes, or even seconds, of my absolute, undivided attention. And it's making all the difference in the world.
Transitions, Milestones, and Progress
Posted in J-Man, triplet mania on November 15, 2008| 1 Comment »
We moved the nursery upstairs about a week and a half ago. My three precious babies aren't just three steps away from my bedroom anymore. Seth is in heaven; I am traumatized. I thought I'd be over it by now, but I'm really not. I admit it's nice having all four kids upstairs together. It's nice having our own space downstairs, as we'd intended all along. It's nice that J isn't all alone anymore. Certainly, the babies haven't noticed any difference. But… it's so different at night – I'm so accustomed to hearing Sam's little sighs through the night, Ellie's cute little coos, and Abby's cries (Abby? Not such a fan of sleeping).
Our morning routine is completely different now, too. It used to be that pretty soon after the first sounds we heard in the morning, Seth would get up and start changing diapers. He'd change Sam first, and bring him to me to nurse. Then he'd change Ellie and Abby, and bring me Ellie to nurse, and put Sam in the nursery to play while he offered Abby a cup of milk which she usually refused. Now we hear them wake up, but we usually let them talk to each other for a while (and sometimes they even fall back to sleep!). After J comes down to tell us he's awake, we tell him to go get dressed for school, and we go upstairs to get moving with the day. Depending on whether Seth is still home (he often has to be at the hospital at an ungodly hour of the morning), we either split baby and J-man duties or I take care of it. '
But first thing's first: I open up the nursery door, and three beautiful, smiling, gorgeous heads pop up from their cribs. These bright-eyed, bushy tailed, amazing babies never fail me. They greet me with such joy and unconditional, overflowing love every single morning that I can't help but wonder why I ever questioned how I could handle triplets. I wish, in those first few days or weeks of my pregnancy, when I was completely panicked about the prospect of getting through a triplet pregnancy and triplet parenthood, that someone could have adequately expressed to me how incredible a feeling it is a year later to have those three enormous grins shining at you when you open their door in the morning. Or how unique an experience it is to sit down on the living room floor and have three enthusiastic babies giggling and crawling as fast as they can, racing to be the first one into your lap and climbing up to be the first one to get kisses. I'm sure those experiences are incredible with one baby. But they are nearly indescribable with three babies.
Back to the nursery.
So you can see, this transition to the nursery is not entirely bad, it's just… different. Once all the diapers are changed, we let the babies roam free for a while. No more baby pit, you see. The whole first floor (sans the kitchen, bathroom, and J's room) are baby proofed (for the most part). I get J his morning medicine and then I nurse Sam and Ellie before I get the babies into high chairs for breakfast, about which time my nanny usually arrives (if it's a weekday) and takes over. With the big difference in morning routine, it does making nursing the babies harder to squeeze in, and sometimes, it just gets skipped – I think we're getting closer and closer to weaning.
So it's not an entirely bad transition, it's just a change. And we all know how well I deal with change.
Hah.
In other news, Sam is completely walking. He rarely crawls, but when he does, it's incredibly cute, and I keep thinking I should get it on video before I lose my chance. I probably never will, and I'll regret it. Ellie has become quite a good walker, as well, though not nearly as steady as Sam. She's catching up though. Abby, who had steadfastly refused to even STAND, let alone walk, took three steps on Monday without me there to even see, the little traitor. How dare she? She promised me she wouldn't walk yet! How could she do this to me? Who gave her permission to walk? Certainly not me! Anyway, I think it was a fluke, because she hasn't done it since, and she hasn't even stood up without support, so I don't think it's something she's keen on repeating any time soon.
All three babies have been varying degrees of sick the past couple weeks. They all had a cold that wouldn't quit for about 3 1/2 weeks. The girls got ear infections and sinusitis. Sam skipped that, but then developed a four day 102 degree fever. He was so sad – he wouldn't eat or play, he just sat in our laps sucking his pacifier and holding his beloved elephant blankie. I normally don't let him suck on a pacifier except during naptime or bedtime, but that's all he wanted, and I thought it was only fair. Poor baby. But everyone is all better now, or so it seems, so here's hoping. J also had a cold and his normal reactive airway/asthma type stuff along with that, but fortunately, even though he won't take his ADHD medicine without a fight, he LOVES taking his inhaler, so at least THAT isn't a fight! Whew!
J is doing really well. I'm really proud of what a great big brother he is and how well he's doing in school and with speech therapy. He's such a loving, creative soul and wants to do well. I'll write more about it in a separate post, but we're taking a parenting class on "Parenting the Challenging Child" given by our Developmental Pediatrician, and we realized that so many of the things that made J challenging are already less of a challenge just in the couple of months that we've been working with the developmental pediatrician – and I'm just so proud of J for the progress that he's made. The class is still incredibly helpful and it's good to see the material presented in a very methodical way, instead of the more bandaid approach we'd been getting it in our appointments with the pediatrician, but I feel so much less like we need this DESPERATELY than I did two months ago when we first registered for the class (though it only started 3 weeks ago).
Threshold
Posted in adulthood on November 11, 2008| 6 Comments »
I just realized that I have crossed the threshold into adulthood. What gave it away, you ask? It wasn't the house, the student loans, the minivan, the "real job" I go to every day, the board positions I hold. No, it wasn't even the four kids, the PTA meetings, the soccer-mom status.
Nope, it was none of that. It was the giant pile of leaves I just raked to the side of the street. That may seem rather mundane to you. But as I briefly contemplated jumping into it, I realized I would just have to rake it back up if I jumped into it and scattered it about.
What a terribly boring, adult thing to think.
Bah.
Perhaps next week I'll rake a pile for the J-man and live vicariously through him.