37 week checkup

The doc said today that at my next appointment (38.5w) they’re going to check my cervix and strip the membranes if necessary…then would look at inducing on my due date if I hadn’t had the baby by then.

88| 88| 88|

I was too shocked to say anything (and then he was out the door)…but, um, NO. I’m letting this one bake as long as necessary on her own, thankyouverymuch.

I mean, why induce if there’s no reason to? And they haven’t given me a reason to. Which is why I’ll definitely be asking at my next appointment. They have casually mentioned I’m a bit on the big side but nothing worrisome.

Interestingly—when I was up in Labor & Delivery last week for my weekly fetal monitoring appointment—I saw a chart on a public bulletin board regarding a goal of delivering more babies between the hours of 8-5…which struck me as odd. So I’m guessing there’s a correlation there…

I could actually cancel my next appointment because the doc said “come back in 1-2 weeks.” Well, at this late stage of the game, there’s a big difference between one and two weeks—I mean, one week puts me at 38.5 weeks and two weeks puts me at 39.5 weeks! It’s not like we’re at 24 weeks here. So I opted for one week this time (I’ve been doing two) but I may just go with two. And let whatever happens happen.

A month or so to go…

With a month or so left, I’m starting to get freaked out. Nothing is done so it starts this week…painting the nursery, putting the crib and dressers together, washing clothes, finding baby stuff in the garage. Tom is going to try and take Thursday and Friday off.

I just keep thinking it could be two weeks…it could be two weeks…!!!!!!!!! And to top it off, I’m more paranoid about this birth than the first one where I was completely clueless. I’m afraid of being early again (or even earlier). I’m paranoid of my water breaking somewhere inconvenient or at an inconvenient time (like having to call our friends to take Owen in the middle of the night). I’m paranoid I’ll have actual contractions and it will be worse than last time. I’m afraid the epidural will get screwed up again.

And on and on.

Four more months? Ugh.

Would someone just shoot me? Oh my god. I thought I just ate too much last night, so I took Tums and they didn’t really help—and I had a hard time falling asleep. Uh oh.

And this morning I still felt crappy and laid in bed pretty much all day feeling crappy, not really ever sleeping (so as to feel refreshed) but just snoozing off and on. My body started aching so I thought maybe I was getting sick…but it didn’t really feel like that. I showered and that didn’t even help. :'(

I hadn’t eaten much all day (toast with peanut butter at breakfast) so I had chicken broth and a handful of dry cereal and felt a little better, but my stomach still gurgles like I’m hungry…but I’m not.

I’m just really uncomfortable and it’s annoying. And of course I have zero energy.

Four more months?


Blood pressure issues

So I’ve been having blood pressure issues lately. Not anything that I have symptoms for, but just measuring a little on the high side (just above normal) when I was in for appointments. They had me come in on a non-appointment day in case it was just a case of White Coat Hypertension…but it was slightly high then, too. So the doc wanted me to watch it and I had to go buy a cuff and take my blood pressure twice a day.

Well, I started to get really freaked out because the readings were really high. Like not just a tad above normal high, but up to crazy scary Stage 2 high (like one day was 190/110 first thing after waking up in the morning). :??: 88| I tried not to get TOO worried, but how could I not?!? I took it religiously for a week, and it was fairly consistently high (anywhere from pre-hypertension to Stage 2 as I said). Of course, the spiked high readings freaked me out more (since I’ve never had blood pressure issues before and these were taken when I was completely and totally relaxed) so I made an appointment with my OB. In the meantime, I went to Walgreens to get my pressure taken, to see if maybe my machine was off—and it wasn’t (so, good and bad).

Of course, the morning of my appointment, my blood pressure in the office was completely normal. Good, but…what the hell? And the doc looked at my logs and said in a blood pressure world of black and white, I’m gray. :|

My BP at the office was completely normal…but I have the logs of high and crazy high. He definitely didn’t want to put me on BP-lowering meds in case there wasn’t really a problem because then the drugs would lower it too much and that is a problem as well. So for the time being, I’m continuing to monitor it while watching for specific warning signs and trying to drink more water/get more exercise/watch my salt intake. And I get to go back every two weeks instead of four…in addition to my every four weeks trip to the fetal specialist. :|

He didn’t seem worried so I’ll try not to be as well.

I really liked him, too, so that was good (because on my last visit, I found out that the OB I had seen twice and liked is leaving in three months). And he told me he wants me to see doctors—not midwives, which I had been scheduled to do.


More fun thanks to the naval hospital!


The naval hospital is seriously on my last nerve. They referred me to a fetal medicine specialist in the next big town (there is a local office, but they have to see me in the main office first). Fine. The office doesn’t allow kids so it was a major issue to try and find a sitter for a weekday morning for four hours. But I did it.

So yesterday I get a call from that office—or what I initally thought was that office—saying they needed to schedule an appointment. Um, I already did…? Come to find out, after much confusion, there are two separate fetal medicine offices…the one I was initally referred to (and scheduled the appointment with) and the one where my OLD fetal medicine doc (from 2008) now worked (which I had been led to believe—by my OB—was the same office, but apparently wasn’t). But I had mentioned to my OB about my original doc, so she made a call to see if my OLD doc could see me, which seemed fine to me since they had my old records. And I thought it was the same office.

But it wasn’t. So I had to make the decision whether to keep my original appointment with the newly referred doc (and hope that further appointments would be in Jacksonville to make my life easier) or take the new doc (which was really my OLD doc) but have to have all appointments in Wilmington (1:20 away). I decided to stick with the originally referred doc, hoping further appointments would be local.

So I thought it was done.

Except just now I get a phone call from the new place (that had called yesterday), saying she called to check things out with the hospital, and…my OB requested the doc/office change and my other appointment had been cancelled. CANCELLED. Which no one ever informed me of, from either the hospital or the fetal medicine clinic. REALLY? Niiiiice. At least the girl I was dealing with (from the new place) was super nice. And I guess as a bonus, kids are allowed at their clinic, so even though I have to drive an hour and 20 minutes, I can take Owen.

But seriously, every single thing I ever have done at the hospital (or through the hospital) seems to get screwed up in some way and it’s never easy and it’s always annoying. This is going to be a LOOOOOONG pregnancy.

Fun at the naval hospital!

You gotta love the naval hospital—I was there for three hours, during which I visited three sections (ultrasound, nurse visit, and lab) for a grand total of 30 minutes (10 minutes each). And I skipped waiting for scripts because that would have added another hour.

FUN! :meh:

But we did have get this nice picture…and an updated due date (July 16):

And now, for a bit of backstory…

Or, why I haven’t been posting much.

We found out I was pregnant on November 13, then called the hospital to see what I had to do to come in and get bloodwork to confirm it. I was told if I had a positive urine test that I could come in. So I waited a few days until it was convenient, and—



So we made it on base a little before 9am. And since they’re doing construction, one entire parking lot is gone, which means I had to park in the very last row about 200 yards from the hospital. Not a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but super annoying.

So apparently I’m in the Red group, but there’s nothing anywhere noting which section is Red and which is Blue, so I stop at the first Family Practice I see—assuming they’ll tell me if I need to go elsewhere or whatever. So I say I’m there for walk-in bloodwork for a pregnancy and she says “Have you had two positive urine tests here?” Um, no. I told her when I called the appointment line, I was specifically told that as long as I had a positive urine test at home, I could get the bloodwork. She says she’s sorry, but that’s NOT their policy, but they can do a urine test for me. Of course I was pissed. I tried not to be too bitchy, but I asked if there wasn’t anything they could do since 1) I was told something else on the phone and 2) I wanted to get OB involved ASAP since I’ve had a problem pregnancy before and wanted them to do whatever they could to make sure this one worked (and couldn’t they check my records?). (As a sidenote, as I’m talking to her, a coworker was calling [whoever] to tell them about the screw up with the appointment line rep to make sure it didn’t happen again.) So the lady asks if I’m high risk and I say actually, I probably am—they considered me high risk when I had [him] because of my age and thyroid issues, and I’m older now, so…I’m likely to be high risk again. So she doesn’t say anything but makes some motion which TO ME says she’s going to bypass it and let me get the bloodwork. She prints me something and directs me to the lab. I didn’t even think to look at the sheet.

So I get to the lab, take my numbers, and wait. I finally get called, hand him the paperwork, and he asks if I’m prepared to give a urine sample. Wait, what? No. I tell him it’s supposed to be bloodwork. Then I read the sheet and it clearly says urinalysis. Ugh. So the lady apparently led me to believe she was giving me bloodwork but gave me urinalysis and didn’t. even. tell. me. (No, she didn’t specifically tell me I was getting bloodwork, but after the entire discussion about my past and being high-risk, I assumed I was getting bloodwork—and she didn’t say either way.) So I tell him I’ve got to go back. Luckily Owen is a little rock star and just keeps playing with his cars and my phone.

So I go back to the first place and it’s the other girl (who has been making the phone call) and I say “Remember me? I thought this was supposed to be an order for bloodwork.” And then she’s all “Well this isn’t even YOUR clinic. You’re Red. This is Blue.” I ask where the signs are and how I’m supposed to tell—did I miss something?” No, she tells me, we were just doing you a favor so you didn’t have to [go 20 yards farther down the hall to your correct clinic]. Like I was putting her out or something. So off we went.

So we get to the correct RED clinic and have to start from scratch with this lady. I retell the ENTIRE story (Blue clinic visit, appointment phone call, bloodwork that was really urinalysis, failed pregnancy, high risk) and all I get is “Well, our policies are two in-house positive urine tests before bloodwork.” I just wanted to scream HAVE YOU HEARD ANYTHING I’VE BEEN SAYING? To her credit, she said she’d ask a nurse. So I waited and waited. Then she came back and said a nurse should be up in a minute.

In the meantime I asked if I could make an appointment for Owen since he missed his 30-month well-visit and I was pretty sure he needed some vaccine updates. So she tells me he shouldn’t need anything until he’s FOUR and throws a sheet of paper at me with their vaccine schedule. So as I’m trying to read his vaccine chart (via Dropbox on my phone so it’s super tiny and I’m not even sure what I’m looking for!), she says “How about Monday, November 21 at 11?” So she caught me off guard by wanting to make an appointment before I was sure he needed one, then she was all “You’ll have to call to cancel if he doesn’t need it.” And I said, surprised, “Did you schedule it already? I’m still looking to see if he needs it.” And she said No, I’m just waiting on you. All snotty. SERIOUSLY? I finally found that all he needs is a flu shot, so I told her that, thinking I could either take that appointment or they might be able to do it right then. Yeah, no. She tells me they can’t do flu shots until he’s four…but I can go out in town and get one. What? WHAT THE HELL? A military hospital can’t give a toddler a flu shot? If there was some other extenuating circumstance, they certainly didn’t tell me. So now I’m pissed about that on top of everything else.

So then the nurse comes out and signs the form giving me the okay for bloodwork and the snotty lady enters it into the computer and you can tell she’s rolling her eyes while doing it. REALLY? The little old grandma-like lady was a bitch.

The rest of the time there was just fine—the lab techs (who were awesome to Owen) and even waiting for Tom’s scripts. But I am sure my blood pressure was SKY HIGH anyway. (And we were leaving the hospital parking lot 2 1/2 hours after we got there. Ugh.)

And THIS is why I wanted an in-town doctor for both of us. Because I >:XX hate the hospital. Something always pisses me off when I have to go there.


—the following day I got a call that yes, I was pregnant—due July 24, 2012.

So, we had plans for lots of family to be visiting over the upcoming month, but kind of wanted to not tell them because 1) it was still REALLY early (only five weeks) and 2) we wanted to surprise them with the news when we came up for Christmas.

But…my mom and David were the first to visit (the few days before Thanksgiving, on their way to Atlanta to see the Filipeks) and…HOW COULD I NOT TELL MY MOM? 88| So we told them and they were super excited. Unfortunately, after they left and Tom’s mom and brother arrived, I started feeling crappy. Like, seriously crappy. I tried to hide it for a few days—but then it just kept getting worse, so we finally broke down and told them, too. By the end of their week-long visit, I was in pretty bad shape. Incapacitated, even.

I call it the Yucks™ (I suppose it’s morning sickness—which is realy all-day sickness—without any barfing). I had it with Owen, but not nearly this bad or this early. The best I can describe it is that all at once and all day long you feel like:

  1. You just ate a too-big meal.
  2. You are a little hungry.
  3. You have a big ball of nervousness weighing on your chest.
  4. You have a hangover.
  5. You are mentally exhausted.
  6. You are physically exhausted.

I seriously just sat on the couch or in bed like a zombie and wished someone would knock me out until July. Nothing I ate (or didn’t eat) made any difference. No amount of sleep made any difference. I had no energy to do anything simple like post to my blogs, let alone cook or pick up the house. I lost about 8# during the two worst weeks. Thankfully, my dad and Linda were total rock stars, playing with and taking care of Owen, helping put up Christmas decorations, and taking care of laundry, cleaning, and meal prep for the two weeks they were here. I did help out the few hours and or random day when I felt better (YucksLite™ ) but it was few and far between.

We actually momentarily debated NOT going to Michigan for Christmas because I felt so bad…but figured I might as well feel bad where there were other people to help out with Owen. :) I’m so glad we did go, because Owen had a great time staying at Gramma Jean and Grandpa David’s house, visiting with the Len cousins and Schwalm cousins (he now knows the word COUSINS!), and seeing Grandma Marsha and Uncle Rob (Grob) for a bit. I did have a few decent days, but for the most part, I was still dealing with the Yucks™.

So, at this point, seven weeks after we found out…I still feel like crap. Needless to say it’s been a LONG seven months weeks and there have been many, many times I’ve just felt like crying because I’m SO tired of feeling this way. The first trimester is almost over, and I’m keeping my fingers crossed that most of this goes away. Of course, then other fun stuff is bound to appear (like I’m already experiencing gas, bloating, burping, and minor reflux in addition to the Yucks™ ). Of course, my friends all say that being this sick means it’s either a girl—or twins. I’ve disowned the people that have mentioned twins.

Oh! I almost forgot! Another lovely naval hospital story… |-|

After a two-day wait for the general practice office to offically refer me to OB, I had to call and schedule the first ultrasound appointment pretty quickly. Easy, right? The first opening they had was like December 21. I told her that there was a 99% chance we’d be on vacation then, so if there was ANY way to get it even a few days earlier, that would be great. Nothing doing, no way no how, that’s the absolute earliest you can come in. Now, I understand they have to wait a certain number of weeks to be able to get a heartbeat, but I really don’t think a few days earlier would be the breaking point (it wasn’t like I was asking for two weeks early or something). But she does tell me that if I do find out for sure that we aren’t going to be here, to call back and they will try to get me in earlier. Wait, what? Just a minute ago it was no way, no how…but now you’re telling me to call back and you’ll try to get me in? Ugh. So, fine. So when we had decided we were going to Michigan (granted, only about a week before the scheduled appointment), I called and told the lady what I wanted (and I know it was the same lady—I recognized the voice) she immediately became snotty and said “WHO TOLD YOU THAT?” I wanted to say “It was you—I remember you” but I didn’t. Yeah, they can’t get me in that soon at all and wouldn’t even take my name down for a cancellation. The next available appointment was almost three weeks later. Really? Oh, and they’re only in the morning. And I can’t bring Owen with me. And suddenly she tells me that I need to be prepared to be there for 2-3 hours for labwork and a visit with the nurse. WHAT? Since when? You’d think they’d tell me all this the FIRST time I called to schedule the appointment. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. So I had no ultrasound to show anyone at Christmas. And I’m keeping my fingers crossed that everything goes well Friday…though it’s the naval hospital, so I’m sure something will piss me off.

So…thus far…this hasn’t been an enjoyable or exciting experience for me. I’m really hoping things get better.

Owen just scared the crap out of me.

He has never really been terribly inquisitive—like pulling things out of cupboards, opening kitchen drawers, getting into stuff under the sink, etc.—so we honestly haven’t really worried too much about putting things away.

So just now, we were upstairs and I was in the bedroom and he was out and about and came into the room rubbing his eyes and his face was all wet and my first thought was he had been crying and was snotty—but he wasn’t crying. And then I got closer and smelled chemicals on him. 88|

I immediately tossed him in the tub and rinsed his face and head and tried to do my best with his eyes.

Yeah. He got into the oxyclean spray carpet cleaner. Apparently he likes to play with triggers now |-| and grabbed it off the floor and was playing with the trigger and sprayed himself in the face.

Fortunately, he seemed to be fine. I kept a watch on his eyes, and they didn’t even get pink (let alone red) so I think it mostly just got on his face.

So tonight—and from now on—we make sure everything is put away.

Sleeping. Ugh.

Well, sleeping is becoming more and more uncomfortable.

As time wears on, I find I can spend less and less time on each side before something goes numb. I tried the pillow between the knees but found it didn’t do much. Turning over has become a major chore. And of course, I am still up every few hours to pee.

The only somewhat good thing is that I seem to fall back asleep fairly quickly.

Everything looks good.

Basically all my appointments involve now are a urine, blood pressure, and weight check; a pelvic bone to uterus measurement; and a listen for the baby’s heartbeat. All said and done, about five minutes.


Urine? Fine.

Blood pressure? Fine.

Weight? I gained 7# since my last appointment, but only 4# since the previous appointment (a month ago—remember, I lost weight at the last visit). I told her my weight has ALWAYS varied like that, and she said she wasn’t worried.

Measurement? Fine. But she said I was measuring a little big. 88| But she didn’t seem worried at all…

Heartbeat? Fine (150bpm).

I asked if I was going to be getting another ultrasound (as family members wanted to know how big he was!) and she said yes. Unfortunately, I have to schedule an appointment at the hospital and do it there. I was hoping to be able to do it right in the office, but I guess I was just spoiled by my specialist in Jacksonville—if I hadn’t gone to him, my appointments (and ultrasounds) would have been at a hospital, too.

Lastly, I got a prescription for more prenatal vitamins.

I’m cruising along nicely.

I had my every-two-week appointment this morning, and things are just fine. I actually lost 4# since the last visit and the doctor was like “Are you eating?”



Of course I’m eating, I told her. (I wanted to say “You don’t know me that well yet, do you?” but I refrained.) She said I might have just been retaining water the last time.

My blood pressure, belly growth, and the baby’s heartbeat were all good as well.

Then it was time for all the questions I had. Nothing major, just things that Tom and I had suddenly said “WHAT THE HELL?” about. :oops:

Birth classes? She gave me a list of classes at the local hospital. (We are now trying to decide. Unfortunately, there are only two available this far along, an $80 basic course and a $210 specialty course. I have to call to see what the times/dates are to see if either will actually work for us.)

Hospital tour? She said that would be covered in a class, or we could schedule a visit directly with the hospital.

Which hospital? We pretty much knew it would be Beaumont, but she asked which one. Oh, there are two? |-| She works out of both, and said one is more of a teaching hospital so there would be many more people around—and the other would be more private. The more private one is actually closer to us, so we’d probably choose that one anyway. However, if by chance I happen to deliver early early, we’d probably head to the teaching hospital, as she said that one is a BIT more advanced for early births, etc. (although the other hospital would surely be just fine). I asked if we had to pick/register at a hospital ahead of time and she said no—so we could really decide at any time where we wanted to go.

Birth plan? She said I could just tell her what I wanted and she would put it in my file. I said I was easy: Give me drugs, cut me open, do whatever makes it easier/safer for me or the baby. She said that’s how she works anyway—so not really a big need for a birth plan (if you have really specific requests, a birth plan is a necessity).

Breastfeeding consultant? She said there are classes you can take before and after, but there is always someone at the hospital to help with that and it doesn’t necessarily have to be done ahead of time.

Pediatrician referral? She gave me the name of her own pediatrician, but I have to find out if she takes our insurance. Otherwise, the place to start is the hospital referral line.

And last but not least, her emergency phone numbers? I now have her card with her information.

So I feel a little better about things…

Pregnancy Manifestations

So much for strong nails…apparently my prenatal vitmins are not helping too much in this regard. My nails are the same as ever—if anything, they seem worse.

And hair? Ha. It’s not growing quickly or getting thicker as pregnancy books like to tell you will happen.

I don’t have the wonderful pregnancy glow, either. My skin is the same as it’s always been—crappy.

Interestingly, my boobs haven’t changed much—much to Tom’s chagrin.

Gas? Oh yes, I have that. Not bad and not all the time, but I do have it.

Heartburn? Of course! That is neverending!

Shortness of breath? Add it to the list.

Trouble sleeping? Every night. I desperately want to sleep on my stomach (I’m mostly a stomach sleeper to begin with) so it’s a night flipping side to side to side to side (spend too much time on one side or on my back and something goes numb—fun!).

Am I having fun yet? |-|


I have started to feel some internal flutterings—Owen is apparently moving about! Tom is upset he can’t feel anything yet, but sources say it will be another few weeks before “outsiders” can feel anything.

I know there will come a time when I am tired of the movements, but right now, I want to feel them more more more!!

Miscellanous Thoughts

I hate it when I have a huge blog post written and IE decides to crash. :X

Cookies and cream Hershey Kisses. Yuckola.

Parents really SHOULD be allowed to use stun guns or tasers on uncontrollable, screaming children. Especially when they are in our small office. Giving me a headache. That is all.

I hate when people (i.e. my boss and another agent) always feel the need to say, when screaming children are present, “See what you have to look forward to?” Yes, I know children can be hellions, yet I still decided to have one. Why must you constantly make the decision seem wrong?

I don’t want to hear an agent bitch about having to come back to work (after leaving for the weekend) and having to work until 5 on Friday. You get no sympathy from me for that.

It’s very strange when you haven’t seen someone in over a year and when you do they are 150# lighter. And then you are so shocked you try to hide your shock but don’t say anything. And then you’ve bypassed the amount of time in which you could say something but haven’t. And eventually HE brings it up by saying something like “I probably look a lot different than the last time you saw me.” Like I could have possibly missed it. Doh.

How many more months?

We have a new keybox system. I was told by the bosses there would be no need for me to keep an inventory any longer. YAY!

Except now they ARE talking about keeping a list of the keyboxes and they are trying to figure out how to do it…which is fine, except OF COURSE they aren’t even considering asking me what I think, since I will be the one keeping the list. I just get to overhear their conversation from where I sit.

Much like when they were considering new means of advertising, which involved a new computerized method of submission, and they didn’t even think to even ask me what my thoughts were.

And it doesn’t matter if I try to speak up and give my opinion, because it won’t matter. Yes, they might listen, but will not take anything I say seriously.

Now you see why I have given up.

And in other news, long story short, my boss has NO sympathy for me whatsoever. After I told her I was pregnant, and how I had felt like shit pretty much 24×7 the past five weeks, she pretty much told me to “suck it up.” Yes, in her joking yet laughing yet totally serious way she has. Isn’t that lovely?

I guess you could argue it wasn’t the very first thing she said. I mean, she did make some small talk asking if we were excited, how far along I was, etc., and then pretty much said “Get up and walk around, you will feel better. That’s what worked for me.”

Which, yes, I appreciate the advice, but like what she does with everything else, she equates it to HER experience and assumes everyone will be just like her. She said she felt bad when she woke up, ate a few crackers, then felt fine. I said yeah, that doesn’t work for me. Then I mentioned that she might see me catnapping at my desk, or have my head in my hands, and THAT is when she said I just needed to “suck it up.”

I don’t need this. I really don’t.

A day or so later, when I actually felt EVEN WORSE, she made a comment to the effect of “Get used to it…you did this to yourself!”

Love it. Just freakin’ love it. :|


I was a few days late, so decided to take a test.

I used a non-digital test—an old one I had leftover from two years ago, one that gives you “lines” results—that I had never had good luck with.

And again, I had no luck. The test was inconclusive. (The “control” window is supposed to have any type of line in it, any amount of color—and nothing appeared. According to the instructions, that meant inconclusive.)

So I went about my day thinking I would take the digital test the next morning—I mean, what better day to find out if we were pregnant or not than on Father’s Day?! :>>

As it happens, that night we were heading over to Mitchell’s for our Hooters wing night and we were BOTH in a mood to drink. Except I was still pretty sure I was pregnant, so I refrained.

Let’s just say it was interesting to be the only sober one for once!