The New Arrival!

Introducing our newest addition:

She's screaming at Daddy

Lovely is adoring her and thinks she's the best thing ever.

Snugglebug holds her once and says, "Ok, I've held her.  Here."

In her carseat that I LOVE.

Sweet piggie-toes

S gave me three dozen roses for the three girls I've given him.  I also got flowers from the store S contracts through.

I haven't come up with a good blogger name for our sweetie yet.  In fact, it took us three days to decide on her actual name.

Birth Story:

I had been having contractions off and on for weeks, but there were becoming more common. However, God must have thought it all right that she be born on the day I picked, so I got up that Monday, dropped the girls off at school, and then got ready to go to the hospital.  They took me back to triage and placed me under a blow-up warming blanket, which was pretty awesome. I was also given boots to help with blood flow, and a few anti-nausea meds.  The IV was pretty painful, and all in all, I was a lot more anxious than the other two times because they had happened so quickly--this was more of a wait.  I had a spinal this time instead of an epidural, so my legs went numb almost immediately.  I didn't care for the pain of the needle, but I expected it.  I could breathe just fine this time, and I actually felt the push on my stomach from the doctor pushing the baby out (I hadn't felt this in the past).  I was able to see her immediately and thought, "No.  She doesn't look like a Juliet (one of the many names we considered)."  

After stitching and cleaning me up, they took me to the observation area and after testing baby's blood sugar, which was low, I was given her to nurse. Thankfully, the body heat and nursing increased her blood sugar enough so that she didn't need supplements.  She weighted 8 lbs, 5.7 oz, and she was 21.5 inches long.  Dark blonde hair and long fingers and toes.  She looks just like the other girls, but in her own way, oddly enough.  She cried as soon as she was out of my belly. 

I wasn't released from the hospital until Thursday afternoon, by my own choosing.  I needed the extra day to rest.  I loved all of my nurses, but I was glad this was my third child because of the immodesty the hospital required with the nurses (nothing offensive, all medical related, but probably bothersome to someone very shy). Although I had avoided this hospital in the past, I actually liked it just as well if not better than the hospitals across the river--except for the horrid food.  I took my medications on time so I would be able to walk better each time I tried, but I was (and still am) pretty sore at times.  

Now, two weeks later, she is still keeping me up a lot (less than five hours sleep per night on average), but I adore her.  I gave her tummy time last night and she rolled over--it appears she doesn't like tummy time!  She nurses about ever 2-3 hours, including all night long.  She has lots of sleep and gas induced smiles, and she becomes more aware every day.  Amazing how I had thought Snugglebug would be my last one and now I'm thinking, "How can this be my last one?  Don't I want one more...maybe?"  Of course, my body will be recovering for a long time to come.  Prayers were answered:  my blood sugar went down after I had her.  However, my blood pressure skyrocketed, so I'm on bp medication, hopefully just until my 6 wk check up.  I've already lost 27.5 lbs, although I had only gained 15 lbs while pregnant, so that's exciting.  I tried to put my wedding rings back on, though, and my fingers are still swollen, so I'm hoping that just means there's more to lose!

Tomorrow's the Big Day!

The day is finally almost here!  I'm tired, excited, anxious...every emotion you can possibly feel are shooting off like fireworks right now.  I'm sure it's hormones. 

I'm to arrive at the hospital at 10 a.m. tomorrow and the c-section is to take place at 11:30 a.m.  It's a "rooming in" hospital, meaning only sick babies are supposed to be in the nursery, which is a little disconcerting.  By no means do I want a sick baby, but I've had two children--sleep is important, and sometimes that requires sending the baby back to the nursery for a little while!  I will need to be alone part of the time when S has to pick up the girls for and from school, but I'm supposed to be released either Wed. or Thurs. afternoon. 

We are still at a standstill for names.  S doesn't like Adelaide, Adelae, or Adeline.  He likes Juliet more than those names, which isn't my favorite, but I'm getting desperate.  I liked Lydia, but I'm not crazy about the meaning.  I've always liked Isabella and S said he did, too, but once again, that name is #3 in the country for popularity and I wanted to be a little different this time.  We'll have to come up with something!  

In other news, the nursery is still an office.  Who else will likely bump their newborn's head on a pair of deer antlers?  Who else has arrows sprawled out from deer to deer, right above the changing table?  What?  I'm the only one?  Are you sure?  Perhaps they'll get moved tonight.  Perhaps not.  We'll see. 

Oh (excuse the poor transition), Lovely turned 8 last month.  We went to a movie the day before her birthday and she got the Lego Friends "Olivia's House" as her present.  She said it was the best birthday ever--even better than last year when I slaved over a party and invited her entire class to it.  That'll teach me.  Give some Legos = Get more rest. 

Speaking of rest...I need to get some attendance/participation grades entered and then I need to get some rest for tomorrow.  I took my last (hopefully) insulin shot this morning!  Yay! 

November 5th

At my 35 week appt, I was told to pick a day.  Pick a day?  I have difficulty picking shampoo, let alone the date my child is going to celebrate for the rest of her life!  I always felt that is God's job, not mine, so I'm praying if I picked wrong, something will happen and the baby will be born on the "right" day.  Honestly, I've always had some issues with November birthdays because their sign and mine don't mesh well.  Out of 16 days, I could only choose 3, 2 of which the doctor knocked out because he doesn't deliver on Wednesdays.  Thus, we arrived at November 5th. 

I admit, I feel a bit hypocritical considering it wasn't that long ago that I posted a link telling how you should let babies "bake" for as long as possible, yet here I am, having mine at a little over 38 wks.  Of course, I have the diabetes issues, and my blood sugar was out of wack all day yesterday.  Who else increases their insulin only to have their blood sugar spike?  Raise your hands...please?  Actually, I took it on my middle finger of my left hand yesterday  morning and it said 133 (should be under 95).  I then took it on my ring finger of my left hand and it said 113.  I reported the 113, of course.  I can only guess my circulation is messed up because I can take my sugar on three fingers and get readings that vary by 30-40 pts.  Boy, am I looking forward to ice cream and caramel after the birth...just a little.

In other plans, Lovely will be turning 8 in two weeks.  I haven't decided what to do, because I'm a little fearful of celebrating her birthday right before my due date.  I guess if something happens, we'll just have to do it after the baby's born.  They will be 8 yrs and 8 days apart...kinda cool. 

33 Weeks and Counting

Weekly non-stress test:  Check.  Blood pressure:  132/72--not bad at all for this late in the game.  Weight:  1 lb lost.  Total weight gained:  8 lbs.  Aches and pains:  Hips are killing me.  Blood sugar:  closer to range, but the fasting number is still way off.  Insulin has been increased and diet has been re-arranged in the evening, but it doesn't seem to be helping that number.  I'm told that's because as the pregnancy progresses, the amount of whatever I'm producing to inhibit the insulin increases as well.

I did have a scare yesterday.  I forgot my mid-afternoon snack and went 4.5 hrs without eating.  I began to feel extremely bad and shaky, only to find my sugar was 69.  I drank some orange juice and waited.  Checked my blood again--65.  I took a sugar pill and checked again:  59.  Drank 1/2 cup of skim milk and my sugar finally started rising...too much.  Although I was hungry and it was time for dinner and my next insulin injection, I waited because my right hand said 170 and my left hand said 140 (which is another oddity of my body--my sugar can be as much as 30 pts different, depending on the finger I check).  It went back to normal range after I finally ate dinner, but I felt awful before that and probably scared Lovely because I had to remind her what to do if I passed out, etc. 

Although I'm still opposed to having a c-section as early as 38 wks, I am wondering how much longer this can go on.  I have contractions almost nightly, so I doubt I'll be able to schedule it when I want anyway (which is kind of OK because I want God to choose the birthday, not me).  We'll see.  Until next week, and the next stress test...

Gestational Diabetes Running Wild

I was going to post a shocking picture of what I have to do everyday in order to try to control this disease, but I believe the battery is dead on my iPod...so the imagination will have to suffice. 

I have met with an in-home nurse twice and I'm called almost daily by the diabetes nurse to whom I must report all of my blood sugar testing results.  Here's what I've found, since no information online seems to coincide with what I've been directed to do:

Morning routine:  Check ketones (sp?) each morning.  Check fasting blood sugar.  Target range w/o insulin:  60-95.  Do not go more than 8-10 hours at night without eating.  Eat breakfast.  Wait two hours.  Check blood sugar again.  Target range w/o insulin:  100-129. 

Additionally, I'm to eat a mid-morning snack, lunch, a mid-afternoon snack, dinner, and an evening snack.  I'm to check my blood sugar two hours after each meal. 

Believe it or not, I was following the very strict diet of counting starches, veggies, meats, fats, milks, and fruits.  I was following the diet as closely as possible.  Result:  My numbers were all over the board.  I could eat the same thing three days in a row, at the same time, starting with around the same fasting number, and yet I'd end up with 50 pts or more difference.  My numbers often skyrocketed into the mid-200s range, which is not good considering I would have been sent to the hospital had it hit 300.  A nurse had initially come to my house to explain all of this, and so I felt like a complete failure when nothing seemed to be working.  After about four days on this diet with no improvement and out of control numbers, I was told I would have to be placed on insulin.

I don't know about you, but I had only known gestational diabetes patients who controlled it with diet, not insulin.  This was scary.  Honestly, it's still scary.  When I opened the cardboard box on my doorstop and saw 100 needles staring up at me, tears streamed down my face.  How would I be able to handle it?  How would I be able to do this for nine more weeks?  Would this even help?

The nurse arrived at my house a week later to show me how to administer the injections.  Oddly, the best place to inject is in your abdomen, which made me freeze.  I was expected to stick a needle right next to where I continually feel kicks and punches from the life forming within me?  Yes, that was the expectation.  Again, I cried.  I did it, but I cried.  The next morning, I cried.  I did it, but I cried.  

How many times must I use insulin?  Three times per day.  That is a minimum of needles going in me seven times per day.  I told S not to squeeze me too tight when he hugged me; fluid might start to leak everywhere from all of the holes I've poked into my body. 

So far, my numbers have been much better, some actually approaching the bottom of the range.  I'm still expected to follow a strict diet and I'm not expected to gain anymore weight; in fact, I may lose weight.  I now look at my plate and almost (note: almost) snicker at the irony:  as a kid, I would never eat veggies, especially those cooked.  I would never eat fish.  No way would I drink a diet Coke (I know--not the greatest choice considering the artificial sweetener, but think of drinking only water--11 glasses per day, I might add--for nine weeks), and yet I've learned lime removes most of the aftertaste and gives it a better flavor.  Oddly, I can't eat many of the suggestions made for diabetics when I do searches online.  Milk and fruit are no-no's in the mornings.  No juice unless my sugar is too low, and even then, only 1/2 cup.  Most breads still spike my sugar. 

Another thing I've learned is that although I felt a little "off" once my numbers evened out, I now feel better and have a little more energy.  I don't feel quite as emotional (which may explain a certain previous post of a raging pregnant lady).  I had no idea what had happened to my body without me even knowing it.  I'm told again and again that this is not my fault; my hormones are just going wild and there's nothing I can do by myself.  Don't buy into the myth this only happens to heavier people, either; I've read lots of stories now about people living on organic food, exercising, and maintaining a healthy weight, only to be told they have gestational diabetes.  Once again, I've learned I'm not in control, but I know He is. 

Gestational Diabetes

I was told today that I didn't have to take the dreaded 3 hr glucose test because I had failed the 1 hr so miserably.  I was immediately recommended for sugar testing and education (not sure exactly what that means, but I'm sure I don't have time...).  I decided to do my own research and looked up the effects and treatment, which in all honestly, I never thought would be so scary.  Then the comments from people who had stillbirths didn't help.  I know God is in control, but human emotion is ever present.  (As if anyone couldn't tell from my last post.)

I guess this is just the icing on the cake since I've been dealing with insurance companies, a collection agency that insists I owe a bill that is covered by my insurance, my four jobs, and all the house stuff.  I'm finally feeling overwhelmed enough that, although I've never been a quitter, I feel like I need to stop doing one of my jobs.  I subbed today for 1/2 a day, and it really wasn't bad. But then I went to my 70 minute tutoring session with a student who just refused to hear me.  That stressed me.  I had told her mother I would continue to tutor her this semester, but I'm wondering how worth it it really is--and if it's worth jeopardizing health over it.  I'll be in prayer.

I looked at the diet for GD and I just don't know what to do. Other than cutting out soft drinks completely, I don't know what to eat.  I don't have time to make meals (which is a problem, I know), but there are so few things I eat as it is.  I don't drink milk except in cereal, both of which I've been told to cut out.  I don't eat cookies, cakes, chips, or candy.  I have a little ice cream about once every 1-2 weeks.  I like bread, but it's usually whole wheat for a sandwich.  I don't eat much pasta because tomato sauce gives me heartburn and I don't want the fat of alfredo.  Honestly, I've only gained about 10.5 lbs so far and I only have about 10 weeks to go.   I'm afraid a dietician is only going to tell me I'm allowed this many carbs and this much fat, etc.  I don't count that kind of stuff--it's like I have a brain block. I need actual menus. 

Bye, Bye Facebook

I know I had recently thought, "Why on earth do people suddenly decide to quit FB?" And the more I thought about it, honestly, the more tempting it became.  I'm sure I'll be back (sound familiar, Allison? lol  Please don't call me a copycat!), but I'm not sure when.

So why did I do it (I know I'm talking to a practically empty room, so let me better understand myself)? I needed to find some strand of sanity without the water well of tears that seems to always lurk behind this pregnant woman's emotions (we are a very teary-eyed bunch, you know, crying at everything from a shirt no longer fitting to not being able to find the brand of cereal we like in the grocery store...ok, maybe not THAT bad).  Anyway, it seemed like with every post I read and every post I posted, I got a little more teary-eyed.  I know I'm not supposed to envy others, but I honestly wonder what I did/do to so many to see dinner invitations, parties, vacations with friends--and I'm never included.  Apparently, my sick sense of humor is to blame, or my lackluster enthusiasm over _________ (fill-in the blank).  Maybe on one phonecall or another, I seemed distant or sullen, which was really a slight distrust coursing through the phoneline, wondering how I'll be excluded once again.  Or, perhaps my hubby is to blame (as he always tells me).  Nevertheless, I feel like a tag-along.  You know, that friend who just happens to be at the basketball game so you manage to say, "Hi, how are you?" but you keep going before I can answer entirely, yet I continue to follow you around the stands, hoping to strike up meaningful conversation.

Maybe my feelings are just extra hurt lately, but I'm tired of long-distance relationships with people who live 20-30 minutes away.  I know you're busy, I know I'm busy, but what's the harm in at least a voice mail if one of us doesn't pick up the phone?  I've called, I've had people over for dinner, I've texted, and I've emailed--and as far as I can remember, I'm always the last to do so (and in the case of dinner, the only to do so, with the exception of one far-away friend).  I was in a car accident (granted, not a large one), but having those contractions scared me.  The miserable pain the next day scared me.  Who called?  My mom's friend in Pennsylvania to make sure everything was all right. 

Perhaps I'm blaming the wrong things for these feelings.  I admit, I feel like I'm drowning in my own house with so much to do and no where to even put a baby...seriously.  I know people used to live in one-room houses, but I just don't know how to go about it and I can't move furniture (or deer heads) myself, so I'm just stuck...I do find it interesting how so many people (whom I've actually spoken with) said, "At least you'll have plenty of girl stuff for this baby since you already have girls."  Really?  Do other people honestly keep everything from nearly 7 years ago?  Stained and soiled?  I am thankful I kept as much as I did, because I've already spent at least $700 on baby stuff--crib, dresser, carseat, stroller, clothing, etc.  And as much as I don't feel like getting up tomorrow (Saturday) to go to work, I know I have to in order to pay for all of the above, and the diapers I need to begin accumulating.

Perhaps the crux of the matter is the young guy who rear-ended me but lied and said I had already "slammed the brakes" and hit the car in front of me and THEN he couldn't stop so he hit me.  Honestly?  LIAR.  I at first gave him the benefit of the doubt until I realized he was on the phone with his dad and then asked if I wanted to file a claim, and then the police showed up and he gave his statement.  Seriously?  Lying about a car accident with a pregnant teacher?  How low can someone be?  The insurance agent already warned me that his insurance may refuse to pay because of that statement.  One word:  Pray.

Then, I went to the doctor today, and although my bp was wonderful (114/60), I have another infection.  I was told a prescription would be called in.  It wasn't.  Did you know they don't page doctors for prescriptions?  So even though it was the doctor's office's fault, I have to wait until Tuesday to get it straightened out.

Next, I was standing in line at Meijer and a woman actually cut in line ahead of me in all my prego belly glory.  I admit, I thought a few mean thoughts and gave a few mean looks.  And then I realized one day I will probably just explode and the white uniform men will have to lock me away.  Maybe this is my explosion?  An explosion of text dripping with tears and emotional hormones.

I feel so much better since writing this, and yet I'll probably chicken out and delete this post within a few minutes.  Writing takes guts, though, and good writing takes guts and honesty.  Don't get me wrong; I'm not saying this is good writing, but it may eventually lead to it....if the padded cell allows me to use pen/paper/laptop.