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Archive for the ‘the fun just keeps on coming’ Category

I know you were all worried that I was sitting around being bored. You were all concerned that what with the Procardia and the renewed sense of cervical stability from Tuesday's visit, I'd be sitting around complacent and just pulling my hair out for lack of anything more interesting to do. So if that was your greatest concern, fear not. There is no boredom to be had in the perky household today. I mean that bed rest thing? God it sucks. But it's anything but boring. Let's back up.

First, my husband was out of town Wednesday through Friday afternoon. That was fun, really. I mean, fun like nailing my hand to the wall would be fun. I had some help with our four year old, but not enough, because certain people who were supposed to give more help than they did, well, didn't. The monitor equipment I had gotten Wednesday night broke Thursday morning and had to be replaced (they got me a replacement by mid-day). The good news was that the two monitoring sessions I had on Thursday had no contractions. I did have some contractions between monitoring sessions, but I took the immediate-release nifedipine and whipped them right into shape. Friday, same thing, no problem.

Friday night I couldn't sleep. I had cramps all night. Everything felt funny. I just didn't feel right. I got up around 7ish Saturday and strapped on the monitor shortly thereafter and curled up with Harry Potter which a friend had lovingly picked up from Borders at midnight and left on my table for me. She rocks. But I was so uncomfortable and weird feeling that it was a lost cause. So I just put the book down and tried hard not to think. When the nurse called back she said that I'd had three contractions which wouldn't have been alarming except that it was a change. My BP was fine, but high for me (110/74… not high by any stretch of the imagination, but it's a 10 point diastolic jump), but I was still having pretty significant cramping. The nurse suggested taking the immediate-relaease nifedipine and calling back in 30-60 minutes. So an hour later, I called back and wasn't feeling any better, so the nurse said I could either call the doctor or monitor for another hour first, but she didn't recommend just ignoring it. I opted to monitor for another hour, figuring that the nifedipine surely would leave me contraction-free. Right? RIGHT? Wrong. Three contractions, and I still felt weird. And the cramping wasn't any better. So the nurse thought the best thing to do would be to call the doctor even though I wasn't over my threshold for contractions. So that's what I did.

I'll pause here to note that, as I've mentioned before but rarely emphasize because that's not what this blog is about, I'm an Orthodox Jew. A few of you know what that entails, and many of you probably have some idea, but the greatest impact to THIS particular tale of woe is that it was Saturday, which is the Sabbath (which you'll often hear me refer to as "Shabbos"). Now, normally all this futzing around with phone calls and electrical devices on Shabbos would not be permissible, but obviously, in this case Judaism is very prctical and I am permitted to monitor and to make and receive the necessary phone calls to ensure the health and well being of myself and the babies. But it was about to become even more complicated, because when the doctor called back he asked if I would mind coming in to the hospital to be checked out. He wanted to make sure my cervix hadn't shortened more, essentially, and honestly, the last time I felt this weird, my cervix HAD shortened significantly. So I said we'd go in if that's what he wanted.

However, we actually didn't entirely know where our four year old was. That sounds worse than it is. My husband had dropped him off at the children's program during regular services (he had gone to super-early morning services himself) and a friend was to walk him back to us. But she had misunderstood and had thought we wanted her to bring him a different friend's house (which is often the plan, so not unusual), so it took a while to track him down. This would not normally be disturbing, except that we needed to make this happen so that we could find a permanent location for him for the afternoon. Plus, we needed to find a way to get me to the hospital, which in this case meant my husband COULD drive me, but it would be preferably to have a non-Jew drive us, which meant finding someone or calling for a taxi. So that got taken care of too. But by the time all that happened, it was quite late and I was quite ticked off that it had taken this long, and now we have some lessons learned. Hopefully there won't be a next time, but if there is, we now have a neighbor who knows how to track down our four year old if necessary (he knows and loves her and won't be freaked out by suddenly going to her house as he does so often). She'll simply be told to find him and we'll go.

And so, three hours after talking to the doctor, I finally made it to the hospital. And, thankfully, my cervix had not significantly shortened. Slightly shorter than Tuesday, but still in the 2.x range. Still having contractions, though, so Dr. P's feeling was that the nifedipine wasn't doing a particularly good job. He felt that in his experience a terbutaline pump does a better job and is fairly well tolerated even though oral terbutaline tends not to be. He gave me a shot of terbutaline to see if that calmed the cramping, which it did, but boy did it make me feel crappy. Shaky and jittery, oh my! He said the pump is better tolerated because you're getting a constant dose over time and even the automatic doses which are bigger are given over a period of 12 minutes, so that seemed reasonable. He told me if I felt more comfortable being admitted, he would absolutely do so, but we all agreed I would more likely be comfortable at home. I frankly didn't care WHERE I was at that point, I was just so damn uncomfortable and tired at that point I wanted to have SOME sort of plan. So they set up getting me discharged and getting me a terb pump set up at home that evening. This was made easier by the fact that I was already receiving home monitoring from the company that would set up the pump and do 24/7 support for that. So the nurse called someone to come get us, and off we were.

When we got home, I asked the friend who had driven us home to please check the voicemail for me in case I'd missed a call about getting the pump set up while en route home. Long story short we had not missed any calls about the pump, but my husband's father passed away yesterday. And that's when the fun began. My husband was off trying to pick up the four year old monster, so I sent my friend out to get him to come home. He was, in fact, at a Rabbi's house, so I asked her to send home both my husband and the Rabbi. She had the good sense to suggest that J still stay put, which was brilliant and I'm sorry I didn't think of it, but by this point I wasn't thinking. My heart was still racing from the terbutaline shot and from everything else that had been happening. So my husband came home wondering what the hell could have happened to me in the fifteen minutes that he'd been gone, let alone anything that would require the Rabbi's presence (this is a friend of ours who IS a Rabbi, not the Rabbi of our community). And I stupidly didn't have him sit down next to me when I told him so he took a stop back in shock and just said, "How could you KNOW that?" It was, after all, still Shabbos, and his father lived in New Hampshire. How COULD I know that? Yeah. Lucy had some 'splainin' to do.

Now, you may think the rules about what I can and cannot do on Shabbos are weird and restritive (no phone, no affecting electricity, no cooking, no driving, no writing…), but when a close relative (parent, sibling, spouse or child) dies, the rules are quite limiting. In my husband's case, they are less so until after the funeral for a variety of complicated reasons, but we needed to clear this up PRONTO. So off he went to talk to the Rabbi of the community. Neither of us, thankfully, is personally well-versed in the mourning rituals of Judaism. But after the funeral, my husband will sit shiva (google it, for more information, I'm so exhausted I can't get into it right now). For Orthodox Jews, this is a complex and regimented process. And worse, I really can't help AT ALL. So it's going to be fun, let me tell you.

So my husband went off to talk to the Rabbi, and while he was gone my mother-in-law (LONG divorced from my father-in-law) and brother-in-law came to the house knowing that we wouldn't have otherwise heard the news under normal circumstances. Except, of course, we had, and S wasn't around and meanwhile I was expecting a nurse to show up at any time to deal with the pump and it was nearly time for me to monitor again and would this day NEVER END? An hour later, S got home with J in tow, the supplies for the pump and all the drugs showed up via courier, and shortly thereafter the nurse came at which point I begged my husband to get his brother to disappear because I really didn't want to do this in front of him. The nurse had a billion forms and a bunch of things to go over, which was fine and then she started to go over how to deal with the pump, but we ran into a snag. What, you expected this to go smoothly?

See, as I've mentioned before, my husband is a pharmacist and he was pretty burnt out, but fortunately the nurse noticed and asked for his professional opinion… but none of the syringes filled with terbutaline were labeled properly. They had my name on them, and then said Dr. Tincture which is incorrect. My doctor's name is Dr. P. and I'm allergic to Tincture of Benzoine. And nowhere on the label did it say the drug inside the syringe is terbutaline. My husband is in charge of the IV Lab at a major hospital. This is one area of protocol with which is he is intimately familiar and he said, "I'm really sorry, but this is a clear liquid in a poorly labeled syringe which gives me no indication that it was checked by a pharmacist. It could be anything. I can't let you take it." He was right, of course, but for crying out loud! Could one thing PLEASE go right? The nurse called back to the center and got them working on calling the drug company that they subcontract to that had made the mistake in the first place to get them working on replacing the drug ASAP. Meanwhile, she showed us how to deal with getting the pump primed and ready to go, and she showed me how to get the catheter in place in my leg. And she took away the bad drug and told me that once the new one showed up I could call Matria to have them walk me through getting the cartridge refilled if I couldn't remember how to do it. It was then about 9:30pm. I had received my last dose of terbutaline at about 3:15. I didn't want to take the oral terbutaline that I had on hadn because I didn't want the sudden jittery-ness again if I could help it and I didn't know how long it would be. At 10:20, the center called me to tell me that the pharmacist was going back in to remake the drug and would courier it over to me as soon as it was ready. Stat orders have a maximum 4 hour turnaround time. Yeah, I should have taken that oral dose. Sigh. Finally, it arrived at about 12:30am.

Too tired to figure it out myself, I called to have them walk me through it, which the nurse happily did, and I got it all set up, gave myself a demand dose and the jittery-ness began. Also, even more unpleaseant, I discovered that the side effect I thought I'd been imagining in the hospital was not imagined, it was real… the terbutaline makes me REALLY HOT. UGH. I have managed to avoid that symptom of pregnancy thus far. And now it is drug induced and MISERABLE.n I was able to fall asleep despite the jitters, but I woke up about 4:15 feeling panicky, but quickly realized it was the jitters from the automatic 4am dose that had just finished pumping into me. Gosh this is going to be fun!

It's now almost 6am, and I would really like for today to be less eventful, please. My husband is going in to work, and my mother is taking J for most of the day (the rest of the day I'll have several extra pairs of hands in the house to help. I will not be left alone with J… not to worry!). So I'm really, really, really hoping for a quiet, somewhat restful day. Is it so much to ask for?

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I don’t curse a lot in my blog, if you haven’t noticed. In real life I curse like a sailor’s daughter (appropriate, since my dad was a submariner), but in the blogosphere, not so much. But honestly, I don’t know what else to title this post. I’ve been trying to write it all day, but I just can’t. So instead of really writing the full-blown story of what transpired, here are the basic important details:

July 5 cervix length: 4+ centimeters
July 11 cervix length: 3+ centimeters
July 16 cervix length: 1.5-2.3 centimeters (variable… apparently I have a “dynamic” cervix, which isn’t quite the compliment that it sounds like)

Today, for the first time, I didn’t hear about the fact that I would have a scheduled c-section at 34 weeks. Today I heard a new, and extremely frightening phrase: “We are hoping to get you to 28 weeks. Every week beyond that is bonus.”

So I’m sorry if I’m offending anyone with my foul language, but I truly don’t know WHAT to say other than FUCKITY FUCK FUCK FUCK.

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I don't curse a lot in my blog, if you haven't noticed. In real life I curse like a sailor's daughter (appropriate, since my dad was a submariner), but in the blogosphere, not so much. But honestly, I don't know what else to title this post. I've been trying to write it all day, but I just can't. So instead of really writing the full-blown story of what transpired, here are the basic important details:

July 5 cervix length: 4+ centimeters
July 11 cervix length: 3+ centimeters
July 16 cervix length: 1.5-2.3 centimeters (variable… apparently I have a "dynamic" cervix, which isn't quite the compliment that it sounds like)

Today, for the first time, I didn't hear about the fact that I would have a scheduled c-section at 34 weeks. Today I heard a new, and extremely frightening phrase: "We are hoping to get you to 28 weeks. Every week beyond that is bonus."

So I'm sorry if I'm offending anyone with my foul language, but I truly don't know WHAT to say other than FUCKITY FUCK FUCK FUCK.

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I am now the proud owner of a piece of paper that says that I am entitled to be the proud owner of a hangtag that says that I am entitled to park in disability-designated parking spaces. I am a complete and total wimp. Except, you know, it’s seriously painful to walk these days. So wimp or not, I’m not sorry that I’ll have the option, at least, to park a little closer to my office and to the grocery store. Not that I’m making many trips to the grocery store these days. But still.

Also, since I can’t keep my mouth shut, I am also the proud new owner of a prescription for Ampicillin since I appear to still have a UTI despite a round of Macrobid. Did I mention I hate Ampicillin? And did I mention it’s 4x per day? And did I mention that I’m pretty good at taking medicine once per day, moderately good at taking medicine 2x per day, and lousy at taking anything more often than that? Oh well. I’ll figure it out.

Yesterday I did too little and too much work all at the same time. My husband was outside doing yardwork (which desperately needed to be done) since J was playing in his brand new sandbox and someone needed to be supervising him anyway. The plans for the rest of the day were that my mother was going to take J to the Aquarium, my husband was going to an afternoon wedding that I had declined to attend, and I was going to try to sift through some of the chores that could be tackled from a seated position (e.g. folding laundry, sorting through books that could be donated, etc.) for the afternoon. While S and J were outside, I sat down and looked around the state of the living room and started to stress out.

How on earth was I going to get everything done? I can’t lift anything over ten pounds (and frankly, anything over five pounds is getting difficult). I can’t stretch up to reach anything high, and I’m losing my balance on a stool, so that’s out. J’s toys are everywhere, for gone are the days when I pick up everything before I go to bed every night, and I can’t figure out what happened to the rule that all his toys get put away before bath, tooth brushing, and bedtime. The blankets are no longer folded neatly on the arm of the couch, for they are fun capes and tents for J’s games, but bending over to pick them up is painful for me and no one else seems to see them. Only me. And then I began to realize this is the tip of the iceberg. This was just ONE room.

What about the guest room? You know, the guest room that in three months is supposed to turn into a nursery? The room that currently has two ugly dressers, an ugly nightstand and two twin beds in it? That’s the one. When are those dresser drawers getting emptied out? I’ve emptied out what I can, but the rest of it is my husband’s stuff and I don’t know whether it can be donated, thrown out, or redistributed. And, hey, can we please throw those ugly dressers out? I’ve wanted them gone since before we got married! I can’t put three cribs in there if the dressers are in there. And the two beds… well, one of them is going into J’s room eventually, but what about the other? I don’t want to get rid of it, but what to do with it in the meantime?

And the kitchen? The kitchen hasn’t been the same since Pesach! I haven’t managed to get the pantry back together. Half of the stuff that’s SUPPOSED to be in it is still in boxes in the storage room down in the basement. Which means the storage room in the basement is a disaster and therefore completely useless as a storage room, which is NOT helpful because I need storage space RIGHT NOW!!

You have to understand, I’m a very organized person, and somehow in the last, I’m not sure how long actually, my life has gotten completely out of control. Between all the hormones I injected into me, the demanding hours at work, raising a three year old, getting pregnant, dealing with a miscarriage, getting pregnant again, dealing with the fact that it’s no ordinary pregnancy, and everything else, it’s just all gotten away from me. I can’t seem to get my life to slow down, and so my house seems to have gotten out of control. By many of my friends’ standards, my house is just fine. Perhaps a little more cluttered than I’d like, but not bad. But it’s DRIVING ME BATTY.

And suddenly, I’ve lost all power of reason. I’m a list-maker. I can make lists of lists. I can make an Excel spreadsheet for ANYTHING. I can tackle any job if only I’ve got the right list. I can assign responsibility. I can delegate (well, okay, mostly I can delegate to myself). I can make things happen. I meet deadlines. That’s what I do. For I am a consultant in real life. I don’t just play one on TV. And yet…I can’t seem to figure out how to make THIS list. I can’t figure out how to tackle the myriad of things that need to be done to get ready for three babies. I can’t figure out where to start. And that’s not even counting the fact that I can’t figure out what stuff I need for the babies. I haven’t registered for a thing and I hate registering for stuff, but my stepmother is ITCHING to go on a shopping spree (and I can hardly complain about THAT, can I, particularly since she and my father are already spending $600 on car seats for me), so I need to register even though I have no idea what I need. The list… it’s neverending.

So there my poor husband was outside doing yardwork and supervising J, and I walked waddled outside and told him we need to sell/give away the piano. The piano that I haven’t touched in months and months and months. Because I can’t stand that it’s taking up space that could be used for a changing table or a stroller or bookshelves or SOMETHING. Because I can’t stand that it collects STUFF. And then I started to cry, because the garage needs to be cleaned out and the pantry is in disarray and the dressers are ugly and I don’t know where the cribs are going until the guest room gets cleaned up and dammit those blankets are on the floor because they made such fun tents for J to play with, but it hurts to bend over to pick them up! (yes, I have a cleaning lady, but she comes on Fridays, and J played his game with the blankets on Saturday). My poor husband. He said, “Okay, I’m coming in, because obviously the priorities inside the house are far more important than the outside priorities.” Except I couldn’t make him do that because J was SO happy playing in his sand box and my mother was going to be by to pick him up really soon, so I couldn’t make him stop just because I was having some sort of ridiculous panic attack.

And so I didn’t. I came inside intent on finding some small, finite project that I could do in a chair. But I didn’t. Instead, I loaded the dishwasher and did a load of dishes. My mother came and picked up J, my husband took a shower and left for the wedding, and I fell asleep in the chair. The very chair in which I was supposed to be accomplishing something. S came home early from the wedding and was going to help me with the pantry, but wanted to cool down a bit in front of the fan first, so he said he’d fold the laundry first. So I ran another load of dishes in the dishwasher. And I set up another load of laundry (on the delay cycle so it wouldn’t interfere with the dishes). And I helped fold the laundry. And eventually I realized I hadn’t eaten all day, so I went to heat up some lunch/dinner, and I wandered into the attic with S to help him figure out what boxes needed to go outside for the folks who were picking up stuff to be donated Monday morning. And promptly forgot that my lunch was in the microwave, and spent an hour sorting through boxes in the attic. Why do we have so much stuff? Where did it all come from? And so it went.

And finally, I admitted defeat. The pantry never did get dealt with. We’ll put that on “the list”… that neverending, ever-expanding list.

Maybe next week will be better.

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I am now the proud owner of a piece of paper that says that I am entitled to be the proud owner of a hangtag that says that I am entitled to park in disability-designated parking spaces. I am a complete and total wimp. Except, you know, it's seriously painful to walk these days. So wimp or not, I'm not sorry that I'll have the option, at least, to park a little closer to my office and to the grocery store. Not that I'm making many trips to the grocery store these days. But still.

Also, since I can't keep my mouth shut, I am also the proud new owner of a prescription for Ampicillin since I appear to still have a UTI despite a round of Macrobid. Did I mention I hate Ampicillin? And did I mention it's 4x per day? And did I mention that I'm pretty good at taking medicine once per day, moderately good at taking medicine 2x per day, and lousy at taking anything more often than that? Oh well. I'll figure it out.

Yesterday I did too little and too much work all at the same time. My husband was outside doing yardwork (which desperately needed to be done) since J was playing in his brand new sandbox and someone needed to be supervising him anyway. The plans for the rest of the day were that my mother was going to take J to the Aquarium, my husband was going to an afternoon wedding that I had declined to attend, and I was going to try to sift through some of the chores that could be tackled from a seated position (e.g. folding laundry, sorting through books that could be donated, etc.) for the afternoon. While S and J were outside, I sat down and looked around the state of the living room and started to stress out.

How on earth was I going to get everything done? I can't lift anything over ten pounds (and frankly, anything over five pounds is getting difficult). I can't stretch up to reach anything high, and I'm losing my balance on a stool, so that's out. J's toys are everywhere, for gone are the days when I pick up everything before I go to bed every night, and I can't figure out what happened to the rule that all his toys get put away before bath, tooth brushing, and bedtime. The blankets are no longer folded neatly on the arm of the couch, for they are fun capes and tents for J's games, but bending over to pick them up is painful for me and no one else seems to see them. Only me. And then I began to realize this is the tip of the iceberg. This was just ONE room.

What about the guest room? You know, the guest room that in three months is supposed to turn into a nursery? The room that currently has two ugly dressers, an ugly nightstand and two twin beds in it? That's the one. When are those dresser drawers getting emptied out? I've emptied out what I can, but the rest of it is my husband's stuff and I don't know whether it can be donated, thrown out, or redistributed. And, hey, can we please throw those ugly dressers out? I've wanted them gone since before we got married! I can't put three cribs in there if the dressers are in there. And the two beds… well, one of them is going into J's room eventually, but what about the other? I don't want to get rid of it, but what to do with it in the meantime?

And the kitchen? The kitchen hasn't been the same since Pesach! I haven't managed to get the pantry back together. Half of the stuff that's SUPPOSED to be in it is still in boxes in the storage room down in the basement. Which means the storage room in the basement is a disaster and therefore completely useless as a storage room, which is NOT helpful because I need storage space RIGHT NOW!!

You have to understand, I'm a very organized person, and somehow in the last, I'm not sure how long actually, my life has gotten completely out of control. Between all the hormones I injected into me, the demanding hours at work, raising a three year old, getting pregnant, dealing with a miscarriage, getting pregnant again, dealing with the fact that it's no ordinary pregnancy, and everything else, it's just all gotten away from me. I can't seem to get my life to slow down, and so my house seems to have gotten out of control. By many of my friends' standards, my house is just fine. Perhaps a little more cluttered than I'd like, but not bad. But it's DRIVING ME BATTY.

And suddenly, I've lost all power of reason. I'm a list-maker. I can make lists of lists. I can make an Excel spreadsheet for ANYTHING. I can tackle any job if only I've got the right list. I can assign responsibility. I can delegate (well, okay, mostly I can delegate to myself). I can make things happen. I meet deadlines. That's what I do. For I am a consultant in real life. I don't just play one on TV. And yet…I can't seem to figure out how to make THIS list. I can't figure out how to tackle the myriad of things that need to be done to get ready for three babies. I can't figure out where to start. And that's not even counting the fact that I can't figure out what stuff I need for the babies. I haven't registered for a thing and I hate registering for stuff, but my stepmother is ITCHING to go on a shopping spree (and I can hardly complain about THAT, can I, particularly since she and my father are already spending $600 on car seats for me), so I need to register even though I have no idea what I need. The list… it's neverending.

So there my poor husband was outside doing yardwork and supervising J, and I walked waddled outside and told him we need to sell/give away the piano. The piano that I haven't touched in months and months and months. Because I can't stand that it's taking up space that could be used for a changing table or a stroller or bookshelves or SOMETHING. Because I can't stand that it collects STUFF. And then I started to cry, because the garage needs to be cleaned out and the pantry is in disarray and the dressers are ugly and I don't know where the cribs are going until the guest room gets cleaned up and dammit those blankets are on the floor because they made such fun tents for J to play with, but it hurts to bend over to pick them up! (yes, I have a cleaning lady, but she comes on Fridays, and J played his game with the blankets on Saturday). My poor husband. He said, "Okay, I'm coming in, because obviously the priorities inside the house are far more important than the outside priorities." Except I couldn't make him do that because J was SO happy playing in his sand box and my mother was going to be by to pick him up really soon, so I couldn't make him stop just because I was having some sort of ridiculous panic attack.

And so I didn't. I came inside intent on finding some small, finite project that I could do in a chair. But I didn't. Instead, I loaded the dishwasher and did a load of dishes. My mother came and picked up J, my husband took a shower and left for the wedding, and I fell asleep in the chair. The very chair in which I was supposed to be accomplishing something. S came home early from the wedding and was going to help me with the pantry, but wanted to cool down a bit in front of the fan first, so he said he'd fold the laundry first. So I ran another load of dishes in the dishwasher. And I set up another load of laundry (on the delay cycle so it wouldn't interfere with the dishes). And I helped fold the laundry. And eventually I realized I hadn't eaten all day, so I went to heat up some lunch/dinner, and I wandered into the attic with S to help him figure out what boxes needed to go outside for the folks who were picking up stuff to be donated Monday morning. And promptly forgot that my lunch was in the microwave, and spent an hour sorting through boxes in the attic. Why do we have so much stuff? Where did it all come from? And so it went.

And finally, I admitted defeat. The pantry never did get dealt with. We'll put that on "the list"… that neverending, ever-expanding list.

Maybe next week will be better.

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We are working on Information Overload here in the Perky Household, as I’m sure you can all imagine. I wish I’d gotten a chance to write up my doctor’s appointment yesterday while it was still fresh in my mind, but I’m going to have to wing it (and I’m currently EXHAUSTED, so who knows how coherent this will be). This is a really, really, really long post. Sorry!

Genetic Counseling
Okay, so you all remember the fun on Thursday, of course. I was only moderately satisfied with the answer I got from the OB’s office, but I wasn’t too terribly stressed about it, since I figured the perinatology practice would be able to fill me in on any other details if there was anything to be found. I was right of course. Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me back up. My husband and I met first with the genetic counselor, and found out lots of good things (like we don’t have serious risk factors in our family history that are huge deals). She gave us more information on what to expect from the nuchal fold and CVS. She talked a lot about percentages. She reassured me that my coke addiction isn’t killing my babies (seriously, people, I have about 50mg of caffeine per day, I’m DOING FINE). She was very nice and was surprised at how much working knowledge we already had (I can talk the talk pretty well at this point and my husband is a pharmacist, so you know…). We’d already been screened for CF, Tay-Sachs, etc, so we were good on those fronts. Among other things, she asked if I’d had any problems with the pregnancy and I mentioned the bleeding/cramping. She asked a lot of questions about that and took very detailed notes that got passed on to both the sonographer and the doctor, which was great.

Sonogram
Then back to the waiting room while waiting for an ultrasound room to be free. And I thought I was going to float away. I swear, they tell you to come in with a “comfortably full” bladder. Yeah, right. YOU try finding that happy medium of “comfortably full” when you’re pregnant with freaking triplets! Eventually, when I really thought I couldn’t take another single solitary second without peeing in the waiting room, we were called back for the ultrasound. The first thing the sonographer asked was what was going on with the bleeding. She wanted to make sure that in addition to looking at the babies we looked around for a cause of the bleeding. She also said she’d be looking at all three and she wanted to know if I wanted to see them also. I suspect there are folks who DON’T want to see if they’re considering a reduction, but that wasn’t the case for me, even when reduction was on the table.

First she went looking at the babies with a transabdominal scan. They were all in fine form, but a tad bit too small for useful NT measurements. The NT data starts being useful when the babies are 4.5 cm, but the biggest one of my trio is 4.45 cm (or was as of yesterday… who knows how big it is now!). She took detailed measurements on each of them, plus a heartbeat. We saw them doing somersaults and waiving at us and flipping around, curling up, stretching out, all in all, pretty darned cool. She showed me where my cervix was and where the placentas were. She showed me where my uterus was… the top of my uterus was all the way up at my belly button which freaked me out, because that seems awfully quick on the growth, but she explained it was because my bladder was pushing it upward. The babies measured at 11 weeks 2 days, 11 weeks 1 day and 11 weeks 0 days (I was at 11w, 2d on Friday, so perfect). The heartrates were 163, 163 and 158 (so they’re slowing down a little bit, which is what I was told would happen). When she was done with all the measurements, she left to talk to the doctor to find out whether she should do the NT measurements, since it was a bit too early (the answer was no, we need to wait). Then she came back and told me (bless her heart) that I could empty my bladder and then they wanted to do a transvaginal scan to check on the cervix and one of the placentas. Okey dokey.

Placenta Previa and Meeting Dr. P.
When she came back after I had appropriately disrobed, she brought the doctor with her and he chatted for just a second or two before I “assumed the position” and got wanded. It was IMMEDIATELY apparent that there was a complete placenta previa and you could even clearly see where the blood flow was coming from. The doctor seemed almost surprised I wasn’t having even more bleeding than I was based on that picture. He took a lot of time to point things out on the monitor to explain what they were looking at and what the significance was. he said my cervix is nice and long, which is great. Done with the wanding, the sonographer withdrew the wand (but the condom stayed in me! EW!… I mean, she pulled it right out, but it was seriously embarrassing!) and left the room. I sat up with a drape covering my lower half and then we started seriously talking to the doctor.

The doctor we met with, Dr. P, is the head of the practice and we were very impressed with him. He was clear, articulate, empathetic, forthcoming and candid. He preemptively answered a lot of the questions on my list and had no problem spending a lot of time with us. I think he talked with us for a good half hour or more once the ultrasound was finished with. He did not put the pressure on the reduction option, though it’s obviously there as an option if we want it. He was clear about what I can expect, but didn’t terrify me so things were good. In light of the relatively heavy bleeding I’d had on Thursday (particularly combined with the cramping) and the discovered placenta previa he told me I should be on severely restricted activity for 48-72 hours starting immediately. I said I was just glad it wasn’t all in my head, and he didn’t miss a beat before he said, “So… what? You think you imagined vaginal bleeding? That’s a neat trick.” Yeah, we liked him a lot. Oh, and no lifting anything over 10 pounds, not just for 48-72 hours, but for the duration. Okay.

Short Stature as a Factor?
We asked about the height factor and he said it is definitely a factor to consider, but not a deal-breaker. He said that generally with shorter women he finds that they are put on bedrest sooner (and in light of that plus my other medical issues, no I will NOT be the exceptional woman who never ends up on bedrest with a triplet pregnancy… he’ll automatically put me on bedrest at some point). He said that the problem is that because I’ve got a smaller abdomen, there’s less room for growth so the uterus will eventually push up against the diaphragm. This is what another doctor had said, but she suggested that the real implication of that would be discomfort on my part. In fact, having the diaphragm pushing down on the uterus can cause a greater number of uterine contractions, which can equal preterm labor. This is one of the reasons for bedrest, though, because it should shift some of the pressure away. No matter what, they won’t let me go past 34 weeks, because at that point, the babies tend to do better on the outside than the inside. He said that mostly their triplets deliver at 33 or 34 weeks. Except for one case (an 18 year old who was completely noncompliant), all their triplets have gone to at least 30 or 31 weeks (the 18 year old non compliant patient went at 26 weeks, but that was their only case, and I think he said the babies ended up doing just fine in the end).

Concerns about risks of Reduction
I expressed that one of my concerns with reduction was that it seems like it can increase the risk of total fetal loss, or at least that’s what the studies are suggesting. He said the problem with just looking at studies is that they show averages over a long period of time (it’s true… most of the studies I saw pooled 25 years worth of data and medicine has changed a lot over that time) and don’t differentiate a lot of factors (like whether the care after reduction is managed by an OB, family doctor, hospital center, perinatologist, etc.). Fair enough. This preinatology practice delivers between 12 and 15 sets of triplets per year. He said that for every set of triplets he delivers, he has about 2 triplet pregnancies that he reduces. Most women, he said, are still opting for reduction for a variety of reasons. He was NOT advocating that reduction was our only option, however. I thought those numbers were fairly astounding, though. So my husband, smart man that he is, asked what his practices rate of total fetal loss after reduction is and he said they have not had a total fetal loss after reduction. Then he corrected himself and said that he had one woman who came in for a reduction of sextuplets to twins at 16 weeks (very late for a reduction… they prefer to do them before 15 weeks), and she was not followed by their practice after the reduction. She went to her OB at 23 weeks and complained of cramping, the OB told her not to worry, and she delivered her 23 weekers and they didn’t survive. I appreciated that Dr. P gave us full disclosure on that loss, but it sounds like that was somewhat unrelated to the reduction itself (not to mention reduction from sextuplets is riskier than reduction from triplets in terms of total fetal loss).

He acknowledged that for sure triplet pregnancies carry more risk than twin pregnancies, so I asked whether it is signficant that in fact I’m not comparing a triplet to twin pregnancy, I’m looking at comparing a triplet to triplet-reduced-to-twin pregnancy. He said that it is true that it’s an intermediate step, but that the risks after reduction far more closely approach the twin pregnancy than the triplet pregnancy and he provided very specific statistics to support that statement. I don’t remember enough to type them out now, but I was certainly satisfied with his answer at the time.

Size of Babies
Dr. P was not concerned that one of the babies has been lagging behind a little bit in size. He said the important thing is that it’s following a predictable growth curve (which it is), because just like normal humans, fetuses have a range of normal. He said it’s possible it’s just genetically predisposed to being smaller. Or, yes, it could have been a slightly later implantation, and I asked if that was troublesome but he said at this stage it is not. Overall, he was pleased with the growth and the heartrates etc. He said the biggest hurdle right now is to get me through the next week and half or so to get me to the second trimester. Shortly after that, we’ll start having weekly checks for fetal growth and cervical changes and to see if the placenta previa resolves itself (this often happens over the long term, but with triplets, it’s sort of 50/50 over whether it will resolve since there’s limited uterine real estate available).

More on Placenta Previa
I asked if the placenta previa was a big deal, because I mean, with singletons, sure it’s rotten because it’s an automatic ticket to a C-section, but since I have a guaranteed C-section anyway, who cares, right? Well, to a point that’s true, but the problem with it remaining a complete placenta previa is that if too much pressure is put on the cervix or if the bleeding becomes too heavy, it can trigger a miscarriage or preterm labor. However, we’ll manage this risk with the monitoring I’ll be having done as a matter of course anyway. And with any luck, it will migrate away from the cervix as the uterus expands. He also noted that I should not allow my bladder to get too full (easy for him to say) because the bladder putting too much pressure on the uterus can cause a greater likelihood of uterine contractions. This put me in a weird conundrum today because I wasn’t supposed to be getting up from the couch much, but I had to PEE about every 15 minutes. Oh well.

Weight Gain or Lack Thereof
My husband asked me if I’d stopped losing weight and I said yes, but I hadn’t gained anything yet. Dr. P was unconcerned. He said they aren’t worried about the pounds specifically, but the volume. My metabolism is obviously working in overdrive. But he wants me to push fluids, drink soup if I can, keep hydrated, eat enough calories to whatever degree the Zofran allows. (He did note that the nausea should abate soonish) He said that eventually they’ll want me to take my prenatal vitamin twice a day, but wouldn’t recommend trying that until the nausea really does abate. He noted that the extra vitamin is for MY benefit, not for the babies. He said they are voracious little parasites who will suck the life out of me, so they’re not worried about the babies having enough vitamins, they’re worried about my reserves being diminished. This seemed fair enough.

Bilateral or Unilateral Care?
Lastly, we talked about long term care. He asked whether I would be seeing my OB’s practice bilaterally with their practice (which is their usual way of working with patients… but that’s because most patients referred to perinatologists just need a bit of higher-level monitoring for a specific risk factor… triplets apparently get me into my own special class of patients). I told Dr. P I wasn’t certain what would happen because originally, I’d understood that it would be bilateral care but that the evil doctor (also, ironically, Dr. P) who I saw on Thursday had said maybe my care should be transferred entirely. I explained that I love, love, love my OB, but that I wasn’t entirely certain what the better route is. Dr. P said that with the OB practice that I’m at, he’s not so concerned about things slipping through the cracks, because it’s a very good practice (good to know!). However, he said, if he’s to be totally candid, his gut reaction is that it’s easier that if the perinatology practice is going to care for me, to just have them do all my care. He did say that it was entirely up to me and my current OB practice and that they were willing to work either way. I’m inclined to agree with him that the best thing is to transfer my care directly over to the perinatology practice (much as I hate to lose my beloved OB). I’m going to be seeing the perinatologist more often than I’ll be seeing my OB as it is, and the perinatologist will be likely doing the delivery, and my OB made quite clear that he would defer to the perinatologist on all critical care decisions, so I’m not sure there’s a real advantage to keeping my OB in the loop, and it might actually make things more complicated. In the meantime, however, I should continue to use my OB as my first-line of help if I have complications, but they will likely have me contact the perinatology practice anyway. I should continue to get my scripts from the OB (e.g. for Zofran) until such time as my care is transferred over entirely. I didn’t think that the perinatology practice ever did full-blown prenatal coverage, but apparently they do for the special people (like me!).

Final Thoughts (for now)
So no kidding on the whole Information Overload bit, right? And honestly, there was a LOT more information in that appointment than I even detailed here. I thought it was a really positive appointment. We will go back in two weeks to try again with the nuchal fold, but don’t anticipate finding any problems. He said if I felt anxious to come back sooner, I could, but this way I can minimize the number of appointments I need right now, since I’ll be having so many soon enough. So nuchal fold on May 3rd and on May 4th I already had an appointment scheduled with my OB, so I’ll go to that and talk about transferring my care alltogether to Dr. P’s practice (it makes me sniffle just thinking about it, but I think it’s the right thing).

Dr. P told me to please not hesitate to call this weekend if I had any problems, he said he was the doctor on call for the weekend, but that he genuinely hopes I don’t need to. I liked him so much and I felt very much reassurred after meeting with him that my care would be well managed and that I would be in the best of hands. I asked my husband if he still wanted me to try to reschedule the Georgetown consult appointment but he said he was satisfied. He felt much more confident coming out of yesterday’s appointment than he had been feeling.

One thing that I really like about the practice is that it’s obvious they communicate well. Dr. P had clearly read my chart very thoroughly before wallking in the room (the same had been true with Dr. M). It was clear that Dr. M’s notes from my last appointment were thorough and accurate. The genetic counselor had obviously passed on the concerns about my bleeding to both the sonographer and the doctor. Everyone seemed thoroughly familiar with the notes from Shady Hell as well. It saves a lot of stress if I don’t have to repeat things or remember what I’ve told whom, and it’s very nice that they obviously take great care to educate themselves before stepping foot into the room with the patient. It’s hard to describe, but it just inspires a whole different level of confidence.

Finally (and I mean it this time), I have to say, I’ve gotten a quick taste of what my life will be come June-ish, because I’ve been on the couch for all of ONE day, and I have to say, I am bored stiff, and cannot believe how absolutely limited I felt being housebound. (And I even went out and sat in a chair on the lawn for a bit while my husband and foster son played together… even that didn’t help the trapped feeling for very long!) I am obviously going to have to change my entire mindset to get through months of bedrest. I was really struck with the reality of it last night when I looked at my gigantic fat cat (15 pounds) and realized I could not pick her up again until the fall at least. Even the slightly smaller cat is over 10 pounds. It really made me realize that I cannot “cheat” and pick up our 40 pound preschooler even occasionally. Seriously? Bedrest is not going to be so easy!

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We are working on Information Overload here in the Perky Household, as I'm sure you can all imagine. I wish I'd gotten a chance to write up my doctor's appointment yesterday while it was still fresh in my mind, but I'm going to have to wing it (and I'm currently EXHAUSTED, so who knows how coherent this will be). This is a really, really, really long post. Sorry!

Genetic Counseling
Okay, so you all remember the fun on Thursday, of course. I was only moderately satisfied with the answer I got from the OB's office, but I wasn't too terribly stressed about it, since I figured the perinatology practice would be able to fill me in on any other details if there was anything to be found. I was right of course. Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me back up. My husband and I met first with the genetic counselor, and found out lots of good things (like we don't have serious risk factors in our family history that are huge deals). She gave us more information on what to expect from the nuchal fold and CVS. She talked a lot about percentages. She reassured me that my coke addiction isn't killing my babies (seriously, people, I have about 50mg of caffeine per day, I'm DOING FINE). She was very nice and was surprised at how much working knowledge we already had (I can talk the talk pretty well at this point and my husband is a pharmacist, so you know…). We'd already been screened for CF, Tay-Sachs, etc, so we were good on those fronts. Among other things, she asked if I'd had any problems with the pregnancy and I mentioned the bleeding/cramping. She asked a lot of questions about that and took very detailed notes that got passed on to both the sonographer and the doctor, which was great.

Sonogram
Then back to the waiting room while waiting for an ultrasound room to be free. And I thought I was going to float away. I swear, they tell you to come in with a "comfortably full" bladder. Yeah, right. YOU try finding that happy medium of "comfortably full" when you're pregnant with freaking triplets! Eventually, when I really thought I couldn't take another single solitary second without peeing in the waiting room, we were called back for the ultrasound. The first thing the sonographer asked was what was going on with the bleeding. She wanted to make sure that in addition to looking at the babies we looked around for a cause of the bleeding. She also said she'd be looking at all three and she wanted to know if I wanted to see them also. I suspect there are folks who DON'T want to see if they're considering a reduction, but that wasn't the case for me, even when reduction was on the table.

First she went looking at the babies with a transabdominal scan. They were all in fine form, but a tad bit too small for useful NT measurements. The NT data starts being useful when the babies are 4.5 cm, but the biggest one of my trio is 4.45 cm (or was as of yesterday… who knows how big it is now!). She took detailed measurements on each of them, plus a heartbeat. We saw them doing somersaults and waiving at us and flipping around, curling up, stretching out, all in all, pretty darned cool. She showed me where my cervix was and where the placentas were. She showed me where my uterus was… the top of my uterus was all the way up at my belly button which freaked me out, because that seems awfully quick on the growth, but she explained it was because my bladder was pushing it upward. The babies measured at 11 weeks 2 days, 11 weeks 1 day and 11 weeks 0 days (I was at 11w, 2d on Friday, so perfect). The heartrates were 163, 163 and 158 (so they're slowing down a little bit, which is what I was told would happen). When she was done with all the measurements, she left to talk to the doctor to find out whether she should do the NT measurements, since it was a bit too early (the answer was no, we need to wait). Then she came back and told me (bless her heart) that I could empty my bladder and then they wanted to do a transvaginal scan to check on the cervix and one of the placentas. Okey dokey.

Placenta Previa and Meeting Dr. P.
When she came back after I had appropriately disrobed, she brought the doctor with her and he chatted for just a second or two before I "assumed the position" and got wanded. It was IMMEDIATELY apparent that there was a complete placenta previa and you could even clearly see where the blood flow was coming from. The doctor seemed almost surprised I wasn't having even more bleeding than I was based on that picture. He took a lot of time to point things out on the monitor to explain what they were looking at and what the significance was. he said my cervix is nice and long, which is great. Done with the wanding, the sonographer withdrew the wand (but the condom stayed in me! EW!… I mean, she pulled it right out, but it was seriously embarrassing!) and left the room. I sat up with a drape covering my lower half and then we started seriously talking to the doctor.

The doctor we met with, Dr. P, is the head of the practice and we were very impressed with him. He was clear, articulate, empathetic, forthcoming and candid. He preemptively answered a lot of the questions on my list and had no problem spending a lot of time with us. I think he talked with us for a good half hour or more once the ultrasound was finished with. He did not put the pressure on the reduction option, though it's obviously there as an option if we want it. He was clear about what I can expect, but didn't terrify me so things were good. In light of the relatively heavy bleeding I'd had on Thursday (particularly combined with the cramping) and the discovered placenta previa he told me I should be on severely restricted activity for 48-72 hours starting immediately. I said I was just glad it wasn't all in my head, and he didn't miss a beat before he said, "So… what? You think you imagined vaginal bleeding? That's a neat trick." Yeah, we liked him a lot. Oh, and no lifting anything over 10 pounds, not just for 48-72 hours, but for the duration. Okay.

Short Stature as a Factor?
We asked about the height factor and he said it is definitely a factor to consider, but not a deal-breaker. He said that generally with shorter women he finds that they are put on bedrest sooner (and in light of that plus my other medical issues, no I will NOT be the exceptional woman who never ends up on bedrest with a triplet pregnancy… he'll automatically put me on bedrest at some point). He said that the problem is that because I've got a smaller abdomen, there's less room for growth so the uterus will eventually push up against the diaphragm. This is what another doctor had said, but she suggested that the real implication of that would be discomfort on my part. In fact, having the diaphragm pushing down on the uterus can cause a greater number of uterine contractions, which can equal preterm labor. This is one of the reasons for bedrest, though, because it should shift some of the pressure away. No matter what, they won't let me go past 34 weeks, because at that point, the babies tend to do better on the outside than the inside. He said that mostly their triplets deliver at 33 or 34 weeks. Except for one case (an 18 year old who was completely noncompliant), all their triplets have gone to at least 30 or 31 weeks (the 18 year old non compliant patient went at 26 weeks, but that was their only case, and I think he said the babies ended up doing just fine in the end).

Concerns about risks of Reduction
I expressed that one of my concerns with reduction was that it seems like it can increase the risk of total fetal loss, or at least that's what the studies are suggesting. He said the problem with just looking at studies is that they show averages over a long period of time (it's true… most of the studies I saw pooled 25 years worth of data and medicine has changed a lot over that time) and don't differentiate a lot of factors (like whether the care after reduction is managed by an OB, family doctor, hospital center, perinatologist, etc.). Fair enough. This preinatology practice delivers between 12 and 15 sets of triplets per year. He said that for every set of triplets he delivers, he has about 2 triplet pregnancies that he reduces. Most women, he said, are still opting for reduction for a variety of reasons. He was NOT advocating that reduction was our only option, however. I thought those numbers were fairly astounding, though. So my husband, smart man that he is, asked what his practices rate of total fetal loss after reduction is and he said they have not had a total fetal loss after reduction. Then he corrected himself and said that he had one woman who came in for a reduction of sextuplets to twins at 16 weeks (very late for a reduction… they prefer to do them before 15 weeks), and she was not followed by their practice after the reduction. She went to her OB at 23 weeks and complained of cramping, the OB told her not to worry, and she delivered her 23 weekers and they didn't survive. I appreciated that Dr. P gave us full disclosure on that loss, but it sounds like that was somewhat unrelated to the reduction itself (not to mention reduction from sextuplets is riskier than reduction from triplets in terms of total fetal loss).

He acknowledged that for sure triplet pregnancies carry more risk than twin pregnancies, so I asked whether it is signficant that in fact I'm not comparing a triplet to twin pregnancy, I'm looking at comparing a triplet to triplet-reduced-to-twin pregnancy. He said that it is true that it's an intermediate step, but that the risks after reduction far more closely approach the twin pregnancy than the triplet pregnancy and he provided very specific statistics to support that statement. I don't remember enough to type them out now, but I was certainly satisfied with his answer at the time.

Size of Babies
Dr. P was not concerned that one of the babies has been lagging behind a little bit in size. He said the important thing is that it's following a predictable growth curve (which it is), because just like normal humans, fetuses have a range of normal. He said it's possible it's just genetically predisposed to being smaller. Or, yes, it could have been a slightly later implantation, and I asked if that was troublesome but he said at this stage it is not. Overall, he was pleased with the growth and the heartrates etc. He said the biggest hurdle right now is to get me through the next week and half or so to get me to the second trimester. Shortly after that, we'll start having weekly checks for fetal growth and cervical changes and to see if the placenta previa resolves itself (this often happens over the long term, but with triplets, it's sort of 50/50 over whether it will resolve since there's limited uterine real estate available).

More on Placenta Previa
I asked if the placenta previa was a big deal, because I mean, with singletons, sure it's rotten because it's an automatic ticket to a C-section, but since I have a guaranteed C-section anyway, who cares, right? Well, to a point that's true, but the problem with it remaining a complete placenta previa is that if too much pressure is put on the cervix or if the bleeding becomes too heavy, it can trigger a miscarriage or preterm labor. However, we'll manage this risk with the monitoring I'll be having done as a matter of course anyway. And with any luck, it will migrate away from the cervix as the uterus expands. He also noted that I should not allow my bladder to get too full (easy for him to say) because the bladder putting too much pressure on the uterus can cause a greater likelihood of uterine contractions. This put me in a weird conundrum today because I wasn't supposed to be getting up from the couch much, but I had to PEE about every 15 minutes. Oh well.

Weight Gain or Lack Thereof
My husband asked me if I'd stopped losing weight and I said yes, but I hadn't gained anything yet. Dr. P was unconcerned. He said they aren't worried about the pounds specifically, but the volume. My metabolism is obviously working in overdrive. But he wants me to push fluids, drink soup if I can, keep hydrated, eat enough calories to whatever degree the Zofran allows. (He did note that the nausea should abate soonish) He said that eventually they'll want me to take my prenatal vitamin twice a day, but wouldn't recommend trying that until the nausea really does abate. He noted that the extra vitamin is for MY benefit, not for the babies. He said they are voracious little parasites who will suck the life out of me, so they're not worried about the babies having enough vitamins, they're worried about my reserves being diminished. This seemed fair enough.

Bilateral or Unilateral Care?
Lastly, we talked about long term care. He asked whether I would be seeing my OB's practice bilaterally with their practice (which is their usual way of working with patients… but that's because most patients referred to perinatologists just need a bit of higher-level monitoring for a specific risk factor… triplets apparently get me into my own special class of patients). I told Dr. P I wasn't certain what would happen because originally, I'd understood that it would be bilateral care but that the evil doctor (also, ironically, Dr. P) who I saw on Thursday had said maybe my care should be transferred entirely. I explained that I love, love, love my OB, but that I wasn't entirely certain what the better route is. Dr. P said that with the OB practice that I'm at, he's not so concerned about things slipping through the cracks, because it's a very good practice (good to know!). However, he said, if he's to be totally candid, his gut reaction is that it's easier that if the perinatology practice is going to care for me, to just have them do all my care. He did say that it was entirely up to me and my current OB practice and that they were willing to work either way. I'm inclined to agree with him that the best thing is to transfer my care directly over to the perinatology practice (much as I hate to lose my beloved OB). I'm going to be seeing the perinatologist more often than I'll be seeing my OB as it is, and the perinatologist will be likely doing the delivery, and my OB made quite clear that he would defer to the perinatologist on all critical care decisions, so I'm not sure there's a real advantage to keeping my OB in the loop, and it might actually make things more complicated. In the meantime, however, I should continue to use my OB as my first-line of help if I have complications, but they will likely have me contact the perinatology practice anyway. I should continue to get my scripts from the OB (e.g. for Zofran) until such time as my care is transferred over entirely. I didn't think that the perinatology practice ever did full-blown prenatal coverage, but apparently they do for the special people (like me!).

Final Thoughts (for now)
So no kidding on the whole Information Overload bit, right? And honestly, there was a LOT more information in that appointment than I even detailed here. I thought it was a really positive appointment. We will go back in two weeks to try again with the nuchal fold, but don't anticipate finding any problems. He said if I felt anxious to come back sooner, I could, but this way I can minimize the number of appointments I need right now, since I'll be having so many soon enough. So nuchal fold on May 3rd and on May 4th I already had an appointment scheduled with my OB, so I'll go to that and talk about transferring my care alltogether to Dr. P's practice (it makes me sniffle just thinking about it, but I think it's the right thing).

Dr. P told me to please not hesitate to call this weekend if I had any problems, he said he was the doctor on call for the weekend, but that he genuinely hopes I don't need to. I liked him so much and I felt very much reassurred after meeting with him that my care would be well managed and that I would be in the best of hands. I asked my husband if he still wanted me to try to reschedule the Georgetown consult appointment but he said he was satisfied. He felt much more confident coming out of yesterday's appointment than he had been feeling.

One thing that I really like about the practice is that it's obvious they communicate well. Dr. P had clearly read my chart very thoroughly before wallking in the room (the same had been true with Dr. M). It was clear that Dr. M's notes from my last appointment were thorough and accurate. The genetic counselor had obviously passed on the concerns about my bleeding to both the sonographer and the doctor. Everyone seemed thoroughly familiar with the notes from Shady Hell as well. It saves a lot of stress if I don't have to repeat things or remember what I've told whom, and it's very nice that they obviously take great care to educate themselves before stepping foot into the room with the patient. It's hard to describe, but it just inspires a whole different level of confidence.

Finally (and I mean it this time), I have to say, I've gotten a quick taste of what my life will be come June-ish, because I've been on the couch for all of ONE day, and I have to say, I am bored stiff, and cannot believe how absolutely limited I felt being housebound. (And I even went out and sat in a chair on the lawn for a bit while my husband and foster son played together… even that didn't help the trapped feeling for very long!) I am obviously going to have to change my entire mindset to get through months of bedrest. I was really struck with the reality of it last night when I looked at my gigantic fat cat (15 pounds) and realized I could not pick her up again until the fall at least. Even the slightly smaller cat is over 10 pounds. It really made me realize that I cannot "cheat" and pick up our 40 pound preschooler even occasionally. Seriously? Bedrest is not going to be so easy!

Read Full Post »

I literally have only 2 minutes to Shabbos, so I can’t do a long detailed update.

Anyway, they couldn’t do the nuchal fold measurement because the little parasites a teeney bit too small just now. They were able to determine the cause of the bleeding: I’ve got a placenta previa and one seriously huge bleed. So I’m confined to my house (and largely my bed/couch/whatever) for 48-72 hours. I’ll update more tomorrow night.

Read Full Post »

I literally have only 2 minutes to Shabbos, so I can't do a long detailed update.

Anyway, they couldn't do the nuchal fold measurement because the little parasites a teeney bit too small just now. They were able to determine the cause of the bleeding: I've got a placenta previa and one seriously huge bleed. So I'm confined to my house (and largely my bed/couch/whatever) for 48-72 hours. I'll update more tomorrow night.

Read Full Post »

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