Okay, Forget Racoons. Let's Go With Possums.

Okay, so when we moved here we realized that our apartment is surrounded by a large community of squirrels. We're talking a HUGE community of squirrels here. And that's fine. Squirrels are cute, right? They get in the trash and occasionally go tearing down the building scaring the heck out of anyone by that window, but still okay. We can do squirrels....

A few days ago my DH called me out to see that it wasn't just the squirrels going through our trash and making a huge mess. It was the biggest, fattest raccoon you've ever seen. Okay, we can do racoons too, right? They're cute. Messy, but cute.

So this morning I go out to throw a shoe at the racoon so it'll stop throwing out trash out of the bin and what looks up at me instead? A freakin' 'possum!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So I took my shoe and went back inside. Opossums are not cute and it was a nice shoe. I swear! Am I living in the middle of a major city or at Green Acres?!? What's coming next? Badgers?


DISCLAIMER: For all the animal activists out there: I'm a terrible aim and am throwing from the 3rd story - I'd never actually hit the thing without some intervention from God himself, as so far He hasn't seen it necessary to intervene on my behalf. I usually miss by about 20 feet and I've lost 2 shoes so far btw..................

Micrognathia - A Closer Look

One of my friends didn't understand what micrognathia was so I sent her some pics this AM and thought I'd go ahead and post it here just because......

Micrognathia is the medical term for a recessed chin and is usually associated with several serious diseases, however sometimes it just happens which is the case with Dex. He's perfectly healthy just with little/to no chin.

As you can see from the pictures he has practically no chin (poor guy LOL) which has at this point made it impossible for him to latch on to breastfeed and also affects which nipples he can use with bottles; in fact it usually takes us almost an hour of careful work to feed him 3-4 oz. because he has some trouble sucking and swallowing at the same time. We're looking into some of the specialty feeding options available, but I think we really won't need to go that route - patience is probably all that's really required. On the bright side, he will most likely outgrow it during puberty, which is a good thing, because picking up chicks is difficult with no chin..... ;)

Here's from the side which illustrates the issue a little clearer (click on the photos to see them full size):

Becca's Hospital Bag Advice

Socks? Check. Lip Balm? Check. CD of Relaxing Music? Check. But, trust me, you're missing the important stuff. Here's my post about all the things you should know about/bring to the hospital but Parent's magazine doesn't dare include in it's cute little "Hospital Check List"......

CANDY
It has been my experience that nurses, doctors, residents and med students love candy more than life itself. You rarely see one without a lollipop hidden somewhere on their anatomy (and trust me that whole "it's for the kids" thing is an absolute lie. it's for them and it really makes them mad when some snotty kid guilts them out of their cherry sucker). I highly recommend bringing a truckload of Snickers and Blow Pops to your labor and delivery. It will make your room the most popular in the maternity ward and they respond to your buzzes faster. Really.

CRAYON & PAPER
Your boobs will never be this big again. Pop them out on the table in front of you and trace around those babies for the memory book. Extra points if you color them in and add little flowers where the nipples are.

THE UGLY NURSE
Make friends with the ugliest nurse you see. You'll recognize her, trust me. You see the ugly nurse has been there a long, long time and is usually grumpy verging on abusive. She hates her life, her job and you. If you manage to make friends with the ugly nurse, your life will become immeasurably pleasant as the ugly nurse has connections. She will bring you the softest sheets, the special order menu from the cafeteria, and make sure you have real towels and not handtowels to dry off with. She's not used to people being nice to her; after all she is the ugly nurse. NOW, I know your first instinct is to make friends with the pretty, happy nurse but your logic is flawed. The pretty, happy nurse has lots of friends, a handsome husband, an expensive car, and a life. She doesn't care if your nice to her. Trust me; go find the ugly nurse - the payoff is worth it.

and last, but not least..............
YOUR OWN D@MN BALLOON
Because your husband won't go to the gift shop and get you one. Because they're too expensive. Because they're too obnoxious. Because all they had left was "Congratulations on Your Twin Girls"................. Next time, I'm walking into that hospital with my own d@mn balloon.

Stupid Squirrels........................er, Racoons?

So almost every morning since we moved in we have found our trash strewn around the back parking area on a very regular basis. After several days of careful watching, we came to the conclusion that the squirrels were doing it, as we watched them go in and out of the trash cans all day. Actually we first accused the children but I don't have to admit to that........

Anyway, late last night my husband calls me out to the fire escape and we watch the fattest racoon I've ever seen carefully and thoughtfully sort through our trash; throwing stuff over its shoulder until it found the good stuff and managing to do a large amount of "trashing" with minimal effort.

I actually did get a picture but it didn't turn out very well. Evidently photographing wildlife from 3 stories up is for the professionals. Regardless, my question is this: What in the heck is a racoon doing in the middle of St Louis anyway?????

Breastfeeding Blues

Can you believe I'm still awake at this hour? Yeah, me neither........... although I guess with a newborn in the house it isn't particularly shocking all things considered. LOL.

Pardon the lack of updates, but I've been struggling through some breastfeeding issues. It began in the hospital where I THOUGHT he was latching on and I THOUGHT he was nursing, but as he became highly jaundiced and lost like 13% of his body weight, I was informed otherwise. Thus, they only agreed to let him come home IF I swore to supplement with formula. Which I begrudgingly did, of course.

Once home, I continued to work on breastfeeding but with no real luck and was no longer able to get him to even PRETEND to latch on. The reason for this became clear at his first pediatrician appointment. Dexter has micrognathia, which is in essence a recessed chin, and makes it very difficult for him to properly latch on. I was so disappointed, but I came to terms with it - we would just pump.

However, days passed and my milk never came in. What did the latch matter anyway if there was no milk to start with? I had been told in the hospital that my milk might not come in at all due to the extreme postpartum hemmorage I experienced and it's effect on my ?pituary? gland, but I didn't take that too seriously. I should've. So I tried all the old wives tales - tea, coffee, excessive water, oatmeal, etc. I ordered some Fenugreek and some Blessed Thistle (although I am still waiting their arrival in the mail) and finally resorted to calling my OB and asking for a prescription for Reglan to try to force my body to lactate. Reglan is a prescription for gastro-intestinal reflux but has the odd side effect of upping a lactating women's milk supply by 66% to 100%. I started the prescription on Wednesday.

Anyway, I can see the effect of the Reglan on my milk supply, but unfortunately I also see its side effects happening more regularly on a daily basis. I'm dizzy, itchy, twitchy and unable to sleep. I can deal with all these things in exchange for a milk supply, and it's only for about 10 days, but now Dexter is experiencing the same side effects, and that simply will not do. If you've ever seen a perfectly peaceful newborn turn itchy and twitchy, as well as lose his ability to sleep you know what I mean. Supposedly seeing side effects in the infant is a rare occurence, but I see a dramatic change in his behavior, schedule, and respiration rate and I believe that it can only be attributed to the drug as nothing else has changed to cause such deviations from the norm.

Sooooo, it looks like we'll be pumping and dumping through the course of the prescription and then hopefully my milk supply will be strong enough to maintain without medication. If not, then I will raise the flag of surrender and go completely to formula.

I'm definitely dealing with some very real feelings of inadequacy and disappointment over the whole deal (I've never had trouble nursing), but even the lactation consultants are telling me to give up the ghost and quit worrying so much about being his buffet and more about being his mother. They could have a point.....

I guess I'll go try to lay down and see if sleep is possible. I feel so odd at this point, that I feel I could crawl out of my skin and sit beside myself for awhile. I hope this is worth it in the end. ;)

Dex's Birth - Slideshow

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A Pirate's Life - Dex's Birth Story

Here's the birth story. If I had more energy, I'd post it all in the third person, and, like the Geico commercials, would have a celebrity like Charro help me tell the story. Click on any of the pictures to see them full size..........

I spent Monday night & Tuesday morning trying to get a satisfactory kick count on Dex. His movements were sporadic, and lethargic. I hesitated to read too much into it, however, when I was able actually grab his leg and he didn't move away or respond, I knew something was wrong. I made the calls and headed into triage late Tuesday afternoon.

At triage we were able to find his heartbeat immediately, however, time on the monitor showed it was a "gray heartbeat". It was steady and consistent, but there was absolutely no variations in response to stimuli, etc. For some reason he had gone into "fetus hibernation"; the nurse described it as survival mode and says babies go into it when there is something wrong with the uterine environment. During this time contactions began in earnest, and my blood pressure began to rise. We got the call a little after 4 - OB wanted to do the section within the hour.

I was taken to a labor/deliver/recovery room and bereft of my clothing. I think it was at that point that it all hit home, and I started the bawling (when I get upset I sleep - can't sleep? bawl profusely). DH was on his way for the actual delivery (we figured our oldest daughter could supervise the group for an hour or 2 and had the neighbors downstairs available to her in case of emergency). DH arrived as they were doing the IV, etc., and having me sign all sorts of paperwork agreeing that IF they killed me we would kindly accept their apology and move on.

DH & OB arrived at about the same time and the OB immediately pulled DH to the side and began to draw pictures of my nether regions/pregnant belly on the dry erase board in the room. I knew they were up to something (besides porno pictionary) but I couldn't hear what they were discussing until they were done with all the blood draws, etc. and my OB came over. He explained that he would like to do a "tummy tuck" of sorts along with the c-section. He said that my stomach was so distended that I would have a "misshapen abdomen w/folds of skin" for the rest of my life at this point, but if I was willing he could do something to help that out. Normally I'm not much of a vain one, but phrasing it like that left me imagining myself walking around with a wiggly, jiggly mountain of flesh tucked into my pants for the rest of my life; I was pretty sure that this would interfere with my shuffle board playing in retirement so I agreed. He did some inital sketches on my belly and went from a decsion to remove a 2-3 inches oval strip of skin up to a 4-5 inches oval strip of skin. With that agreed upon we head into the operating room.

Into the OR. We got the spinal in, which I hate so much. They numbed 2 or 3 different spots and yet still managed to actually insert that massive spinal needle in non numbed spots 2 different times. They took my underwear off and threw them in the biohazard container (should I take offense at that?). Then came the poking with toothpicks to see if I was numb enough to dissect. This part of the c-section always bothers me. I mean, is a toothpick really scientific enough approach to determine if you should break out the knives and carve? Finally they called my DH in and we began.


It was completely different than my other c-section. Because of the "decorative trimming" plan, it took an extremely long time to enter (7 minutes to baby my butt). Dex came out completely covered in vernix (looked like a ghost) screaming like a banshee (thus sounded like a ghost) at 5:52PM. He screamed through the remainder of the operation, and I have to admit that even my nerves were fried after about 20 minutes of it; the people in the room with us were looking pretty nerve wracked too. LOL. We didn't leave the OR until after 8PM which should've tipped me off that my incision, dealing with the fluid, etc. wasn't exactly run of the mill. I didn't handle the length of the procedure very well. At some point around seven I started crying; when that became unsatisfactory I started cussing. Once I was bored with that I passed the rest of the time vomiting.

Back to recovery for an hour, where I finally got to hold Dex for the first time. I was still completely numb and but I got the chance to feel my incision site and realized that it ran the entire width of my belly - we're talking just a little short of hip to hip. I think I realized then that I had completely and totally screwed myself; recovering from this thing was going to be an ordeal.I mean, really, fat people play shuffleboard all the time, right?

From recovery we went up a few floors to the maternity ward. There they put me in a room with an extremely unpleasant woman who actually hated me because SHE didn't want to share a room. The irony of that wasn't lost on me. They settled me in, pulled the curtain around me and left me sitting there with some pads crammed between my thighs, a blanket and a remote. I stayed that way until about 2AM. I spent most of it pondering the wonder of being able to move one's legs. I gradually regained feeling in my lower body, and then wished I hadn't. This incision was a serious piece of work.

At about 2AM I felt a gush of blood. I at first thought it was the initial onset of the whole postpartum bleeding thing. It was followed by 2 more gushes that crept down to my knees and then off the bed around me. I thought then that it was a bit excessive, but still held off buzzing anyone as you can only imagine the blank stare one would get if you page a nurse in a postpartum maternity ward and tell them your hoohaw is leaking. Immediately after that I had this urge to push, and became the proud mother of a clot that was larger than a tennis ball, immediately followed by another. So, yes, at that point I buzzed the nurse. And, cookie for me, I was right on her reaction. I told her I was bleeding. She said that was what was supposed to happen - did I need anything else. So I told her that I had just given birth to two friendly little blood clots and if she didn't get in there quick I was going to name them and take them home with me.

What immediately followed that is kind of a blur. She came in, took off my blanket and ran out of the room. I remember freaking out and just saying over and over that she had left me. The blood was pouring out at this point. It was up my back, all the way down to my ankles and pooling around the bed and she had left me. Almost immediately she returned with 7 other nurses, some med students, and the resident. If they had read my chart they could've known at this point that I was a polyhydramnios mama and that a hemmorage was almost expected but no one read the chart until several hours later. Instead they began trying to clear the clots by the resident putting her entire hand up my hoohaw and grasping my uterus from the outside (ie that monster incision) and forcing down. I made it through about 10 minutes of this before I totally lost control over myself. I've never experienced pain like that in my life, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was surrounded by people who had no idea what to do next. They began dosing with morphine through the IV every 2 minutes and continued their "massage". I was screaming and yelling and crying to the point my poor roomate ran out of the room and down the hall (I don't know what happened to her, by the way, I forgot to ask the next morning). This went on for about 3 hours. I've never in my life lost control especially in paiful situations, but I do know that I resorted to biting, scratching, hitting, screaming, yelling, and they called in more people to hold me down. Again, if they had read my chart they could've handled this differently. When my OB was finally called in on the situation I had already lost a dangerous amount of blood and was competely out of my mind. He knew about the polyhydramnios issue (the uterus had been grossly over extended thus couldn't come back down) so he knew what to do, although it wasn't much more pleasant. They placed cervadil capsules up my bum and began pumping me full of pitocin. While this did eventually force the uterus to clamp down, it also put it into laboring mode. Laboring mode after it had already been sliced open, sewed shut, and beat up for 3 hours. Most of that is just a blur. I assume it was the morphine that helped with that or maybe a natural fight/flight/getting the hell out of here mentally response. Can't say. I did at one point sign some forms agreeing to a hysterectomy and they returned me down 2 floors and to a room next to the OR, but we managed to avoid it by the pitocin/cervadil action.

I spent the next day alone in that room. I wasn't allowed pain meds, water or food (because they weren't for sure if we would need to operate). Occasionally they would come in and give a small dose of morphine but if there was ever a point where I wanted to die it was in that room. They continued to bring me Dex and tried to hold him to my breast and force him to latch on. He wasn't in the best shape either at this point, and remember wishing that if I didn't die maybe some of these nurses would. Dex was a miserable little animal at this point, as they wouldn't supplement him with formula because I had signed up to breastfeed exclusively. Obviously that was not going to happen, but this hospital is extremely pro-breastfeeding and refused to consider any other route. At this point I was just a gray, mottled mess and I certainly couldn't move because I was now even more aware of how insane my incision was.

Finally, they were arrived with the blood for the transfusions and transferred me back to the maternity ward to began that process. It was an extremely long process, and at this point I had been without food for water for so long I was hysterical. Every time a nurse would come in I'd start bawling for something, anything and they'd freak out because they couldn't give me anything. LOL. I almost felt sorry for them. As they began the transfusions they allowed me ice chips which was heaven. I wasn't allowed food, juice etc. until the next day which left me without food of any type for over 36 hours. I will never forget that feeling.

Things smoothed out after that. The bleeding stopped and the transfusions were an absolute gift of God, I swear. I could function again. Once they gave me food and fluids, life was good and I regained interest in at least seeing Dex again. We spent the rest of the time in the hospital trying to catch up on that lost time, but it's been difficult. Without that initial bonding it was like he was a little stranger to me, and I was too exhausted and in too much pain to manage to fix that feeling. We gained a lot of ground, though, although it's been gradual. I got out of bed for the first time since Tuesday on Friday morning.

Saturday the agreed to let me go home and it was at that point they realized how much damage the hemmorage "massaging" had done to my incision. C-sections usually have between 7-12 staples, but mine incision had needed 36 to get closed up. The abuse it took through the hemmorage forced the staples into all sorts of strange positions including into the wound, backwards, upside down, etc. Getting them out was horrible, but it was worth it to get to come home.

All of this really took a toll on Dex too. The hemmorage affected my milk supply (it just won't come in) - something about the ?pituary gland? and although I thought we was getting at least enough, he lost 13% of his body weight and obviously became extremely jaundiced and lethargic. They did let him come home with us on Saturday with the agreement that we are the pediatrician's office Monday bright & early.

We are home. We are recovering. And I am in a state of absolute JOY, believe it or not. I'm grateful for the medical technology that we have to intervene on our behalf when things go wrong. Grateful that my son is healthy; that the hemorrage happened AFTER he was safely out of the womb. I don't know that I communicated it very well, but I consider my birth story to actually be a happy, encouraging one. We are both alive after all. Maybe I'll have some humor to interject into the story at a later date, but right now it's all too fresh to look back and laugh all that loudly. ;)

Dexter says "Peace Out, People!"

36 Weeks

Shield your eyes! I've made it to 36 weeks and it is getting w i d e r! Delivery date set for sometime this week. OB called this morning and was really pushy that we get in there by Tuesday morning at 8AM or Wednesday morning at 8AM by the latest. This doesn't fit at all with the arrival of the family so it is all up in the air................

Ready To Roll

I keep looking at that OB's business card that has his pager/home phone #s and contemplating whether I will make the call to go in and deliver earlier this week than planned. It's almost to much power to give a pregnant woman, ya' know? Although, when he gave it to me, he grabbed my hand and said he not only expected to hear from me earlier than Friday, but wanted to. Now if only I could get my husband on board with the idea.

We traveled out of the city today and got our groceries for the week, as well as the Dex's carseat and his coming home outfit. Normally Michael buys the coming home outfit after the baby is born, but we didn't know where he would go to get it that is close so we went ahead.

As you can see I've lost my sense of humor. I think I threw it up at some point; I also threw up my voice because it comes and goes. Evidently consistent puking affects the vocal chords. Makes you wonder why you can't recognize a bulimic by their raspy voice, but, oh, well.... I suppose that's not actually funny by the way. Sure seems so from this end at the moment. ;)

I've Got The Golden Ticket.......

................................and my delivering OB is Willy Wonka. I swear I will try to keep this short & sweet, but my OB appt. today was so strange & wacky, it's worth sharing. Even I am sitting here not for sure that I can accurately put it into words.

So we start off with the NST. My belly is so much larger than last week they had a hard time getting the straps around me. I fall asleep before the nurse even leaves the room, and just drift in and out of consciousness while they go back and forth taking the test strips to the OB.

Finally it's over to the Ob side. Normal drill getting ready. Strip from the waist down, etc., and she leaves. I again just lay down & go to sleep (don't worry - I wrapped my sheet around my bare hiney really, really tight). I'm guessing an hour and a half passed, but I have no idea. I think the lack of food is finally getting to me as I can't function, focus, anything for the past two days.

I wake up to a very pale, redheaded man rubbing my cheek with his face about 2 inches from mine. Of coure, I'm disoriented and freaking out because I've been asleep so hard, and he whispers to me "Thank you for continuing the human race, brave mama." And this totally puts me over the edge. It was like having found a leprechaun that is concerned with underpopulation in your bedroom. I'm staring, probably drooling, and totally sputtering. I can think of nothing to say; have no idea who this man is, where I'm at, why I'm there, or where my pants went.

He helps me sit up, and begins reviewing my chart while he introduces himself. He's another member of the team, the head of it actually, and says he has been following my case since it came in. He had requested from day one to be the one to deliver me, and apologized profusely for not having had the opportunity to meet me before this point. I'm still totally confused, by the way, and I must have looked it because he hugs me, all the while telling me he doesn't normally hug patients (so why start now?).

He goes over the info, and it was such an amazing experience. HE UNDERSTOOD what I was going through. He said it was a miracle we'd made it this far; he said he was proud of me and that I had gone farther than most women in my position would've (you mean I had an option??). He says he is unhappy with where the c-section is scheduled, it needs to be sooner, but said they did it that way because that is one day he is on to deliver and he considered my case to be of "pet interest" to him (meow, I guess?).

Long story short (not that short, I can see), he asks me if I'm busy later today. He would like to do the section this afternoon. I about fell over. BUT today is Lily's birthday and our family isn't here yet so DH couldn't be there so I asked for an extension (that was so hard - I just wanted to scream, yes, yes!). He gave me his personal home phone and pager. He said from this moment, the decision is mine. Day or night, call the number and he will be waiting for me at the OR personally. He expects and would like to hear from me by Monday, but he is leaving the decision up to me. He reminds me that my water breaking is a very bad thing, and tells me after a quick check that my cervix is completely pliable (for whatever that means!). He hugs me again and is gone.

It all just feels surreal. I'm still groggy and out of it, but it actually brought me to tears to have someone fully understand that I am at a point where I can no longer digest food, walk normally, breathe normally or even do the most basic everyday things for my family because my nerves keep giving out and dropping me to my knees. He UNDERSTOOD .

I wish this was funny, or witty or anything else. I am just so *** hungry, tired and disoriented that I don't have it in me. I can say though, that I have to wonder if the whole "Thanks for continuing the human race" thing was his way of A)encouraging job security or B) he reviewed the amount of money my case has brought into his clinic and he just called and set up arrangements to pick up his new BMW.

My Baby Got Back!

Back from the sonogram appointment! WoOt!

His kidneys are measuring in at about the same which was the most important info we gathered from today! It's great news! While he does have the same kidney disease his brother has, and Dex does have it in both kidneys equally instead, it is staying fairly moderate so hopefully we can avoid surgery. He'll spend his toddlerhood getting his own sonograms, and there are tons of appts., etc, but the bigger picture is that most likely his kidneys will be able to function without support. YAY!

They could not get a read on where the fluid is at and finally gave up. LOL. The position of the baby and all the factors were just against it, but they said just looking at what they could see, and going by my fundal height, it is safe to assume that all is about the same/maybe a little worse. That's also great news all things considered. My body can carry this much fluid for another week, no problem, I have done ot so far, right?

The vomiting????? The baby has positioned his feet/legs directly on/around the stomach! We actually monitored his activity quite a bit today and he's bouncing his feet off of it. I CAN'T feel ANYTHING when he does but I automatically wretch. This is also great news! I'm just gonna have to eat very small amounts and carry a bowl this week. There's not a darn thing we can do about it, and because there is so much fluid, thus he is extraordinarily free moving, even if we manually manipulated his position he would just go back to what he likes, which is evidently springboarding off my stomach.

And, last, but not least????? Dex is weighing in at a whopping 8# and some change! While we know it can be off a little either way, we had 3 different techs come in and verify the measurements, as well as the doc doing his whole palpitating thing on the abdomen/baby and they feel it's pretty accurate. He made their sonogram memory book of "keepers" as not very many babies weigh in at this much by their 36th week without gestational diabetes involved (which it isn't). It was hilarious to see a baby that is bigger than most are at term, all stretched out and laying like a bad bearskin rug. He has no limitations on his movement and isn't the least bit squished in there. OB said I couldn't pay him enough to see this baby to term and then try to deliver him naturally. He's large, lanky, opinionated and comfortable. LMAO.

I might post the sonogram pic they gave me, but I don't like it much. They were scanning his face and we got to watch him stick his tongue in and out, smack his mouth, blink, rub his nose, etc. It was truly amazing! BUT the pic they gave me makes him look like a deformed, decapitated lama..... All you can see is what I guess must be a mouth and fat cheeks with a tongue hanging out. I think I'm going to throw it away because it's creeping me out.

Back From Triage

I'm home! I know, I know it's disappointing.................

I got checked in and they prepped me like I was going in for delivery - very exciting. Except the OB ward was SERIOUSLY jam packed and we were all being corralled in one sort of waiting room lounge. We're talking women in early labor were there, women needing monitored, etc. all waiting there turn for hours to even be seen. This small town farm girl has never seen so many women in labor, and all I could think as they wandered past the waiting room windows was "could I share a room with her? could I share a room with that one?"

And the answer was definitely NO. No, I couldn't. So after sitting there for several hours clutching my little bag and preparing for this huge momentous event, I bolted. I had to sign like 30 forms to get signed out of the hospital, and they attending nurse was soooo angry with me since I wouldn't even stay for the test they wanted to run for the vomiting at least, but I HAD to get out of there. Women everywhere walking, moaning, leaning on walls; families shuffling around yammering and yapping and eating onion sandwiches while waiting for news on their people. Balloons in and out, food in and out, linens in and out, IVs in and out.......... It was a pleasant enough atmosphere, but there was just tooooo many people and too much going on tonight.

I see my OB tomorrow & Friday. He can let me know what he thinks then about the vomiting. Frankly I think the reality of the upcoming week is that I'm just going to have to avoid solid foods completely (my rugs & walls can't take much more color) and live off of ice water, prenatal vitamins and beef broth until I deliver. Liquids I seem to be able to hold down in small amounts. But it's one week, right? I can do it for one week. Twinkies are overrated anyway.

I really don't imagine there is much they can do to help except deliver me, and after seeing tonight I'm definitely not ready. That place is so massive and so busy, that I would NEVER go there without a scheduled event (can you believe I'm being grateful for a scheduled c-section?). My head is still spinning and I'm sure my OB will have some choice words for me tomorrow for checking myself out, but it was a good learning experience. I won't get talked into going to triage again, and I'm not going back to that hospital for absolutely any reason then for the actual delivery which is Friday morning.

Sorry to disappoint! I really, really thought about going through with it. I know he would've let me deliver tonight if I wanted to, but I just couldn't............... What can I say?? I'm a chickenshit and laboring women in herds are frightening.

'Hisploded Again

Remember yesterday the whole projectile vomiting lunch???

Again today at noon, I feel fine. I eat lunch. And I immediately projectile vomit again. Soooo freakin' disgusting. I can't even face cleaning this mess up! I'm still cleaning up yesterdays and working on getting the stains off the rugs & walls.

It's so strange. I'm absolutely not sick. I feel fine in every single way! I'm definitely hydrated as I drink 12-16 glasses of water a day at least and can hold my liquids fine. Stomachs not queasy. No fever. No fatigue. No nada. I just can't hold down any sort of solid food, and there is never any warning. One minute full stomach, next minute dirty wall.

I called my OB and am waiting on a return call. It sounds farfetched, but they have been waiting on me to stop being able to breathe well because I have so much fluid they expect it to begin to compress things around my lungs. I WONDER if maybe I've run out of room to digest??? Is that possible???? I'll update when he calls.

I'm interested in what he has to say. I hope its not the foreign guy & if it is I'm going to point out that this is a type of 'hisploding. I am hisploding on my walls..................

A Blanket For Dex

Look what I bought this morning at 5AM. I broke DH's rules of no shopping between sun down and sun up...............

It's one of those great furry, big baby blankets that you absolutely can't live without during the winter. I was going to just reuse Lang's with the puppy on it, but he's rather attached to it, so I went looking around. This one is listed at 19.99 but when I added it to the cart it was on clearance for 9.99! WoOt!

A Kinder Gentler Vomit

This is from yesterday, by the way.

So I went to one of my weekly NSTs this AM and all is fine. I got soaked in a downpour trying to get to the train and into the OBs office. Then it stopped. Then I got soaked in a downpour trying to get back on the train & home. Once I walked in the door, it stopped. I felt an awful lot like my laundry, btw, and it wasn't the best day to wear a white t-shirt.

Anyway, I get home and I cook the kiddos mac & cheese for lunch and get them going on the rest of their schoolwork.

And I then sit down to eat lunch. And it's good, so I ate ALOT of it. Like a third trimester lot of it. And I chased it with a soda. I take my medication for the day and sit down to read posts for a minute..............

And I began to puke. I'm running down the hall (I run like a 4 ton 3 legged fish btw) all the way projectile vomiting on the walls, carpet, rug. I round the corner to the bathroom, still projectile puking, and manage to coat the door, rugs, robes, towels, all of my makeup, the back wall, the window, and the entire top of the toilet. I finally make it to the actual bowl and *burp* all done, but thanks!

So the kids are scurrying around trying to help me, and being equally fascinated with the horror of it all (kids love nastiness). I get all of it cleaned up (we now have tons of laundry to do & I've got to shampoo the hallway carpet), and I hear my oldest daughter say, "If she chewed her food better, she'd of had a kinder, gentler vomit."

I can't wait 'til she's throwing up and I can offer her some of her own advice!