Excuse me, where is the fire extinguisher?

When you get pregnant, everyone tells you about the morning sickness and asks you about the morning sickness, and they keep doing it until you deliver I guess. I mean, I’ve made it this far and people are still asking me. I don’t want to talk about morning sickness…mine wasn’t that bad and apparently that’s not a good enough reason to stop talking about it.

What they fail to tell you about is the heartburn. Because, seriously? This is worse than puking. I’d rather be sick for 9 months than face the next 3 months of this. Originally – like 3 months ago, I was able to control the heartburn by staying away from carbonated drinks…and then God laughed at me and said that chocolate shall also cause me heartburn, I won’t give up chocolate, but I know the consequences, so I was prepared for that. And then God laughed at me again…and now everything gives me heartburn. DON’T TELL ME TO TAKE TUMS!!!!!!!! I take Tums. I take about 20 each day. I have them in a baggie in my purse and every once in a while I pull the baggie out and have a 2 Tums or 3 Tums snack. I got what I consider the best tasting ones (berry flavored). I never noticed this before, probably because I never took more than 3 Tums in any given week before, but they leave an awful dry, metallic taste in your mouth…oh but if you wash that away with water? The taste either gets worse or the Tums are no longer doing their job, and I have to take more – it’s a vicious cycle. It kept me up all night Friday night and hurt so bad Sunday night that I cried. I sat up in bed after Clint gave me conflicting instructions about what he thought I should do about it and I cried.

There’s an old wives tale that says heartburn is the sign that the baby will have lots of hair…I don’t generally subscribe to old wives tales (we have a heart beat that says Landon is a girl, but you’ve seen the pictures…clearly he’s not a girl.) He better have a head full of hair and maybe one of those man back hair sweaters when he comes out, because this is just ridiculous.

A Series of Unfortunate Mini-posts

There’s not much blog-worthy news in Chez Wood this week. I know most of you are really only reading to hear about the baby – and with my appointments 4 weeks apart, and my promise of one post a week…well, one in 4 baby related posts is about as good as it gets right now. But I do have a bunch of little not necessarily related items and items that will not make a full post on their own and I will try and bring them back to the baby in one way or another, but I’m not making any promises here.

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Electricity

There’s an electrician coming out tomorrow to look at our breaker box (thank you, home warranty). I’m tired of flipping breakers, and now that it’s not just the dryer, and sometimes it’s the A/C or something else, it’s getting really old. He will hopefully tell us that we need the whole thing replaced and then use the one we bought before I thought about the fact that the home warranty is the way to go (or maybe I could be lucky and find the receipt). Once that’s done, we will also have him add a circuit to the garage, so that we can run the air compressor and paint the crib for the BABY. (Whew, that one was easy.)

As an interesting side note, when I called the electrician company today, they put me on hold and the hold music/ad kept asking me if I was crazy and to call a phone number cause they were looking for certified crazy people – I hope that’s not an indication of the kind of people who work there.

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Like Father like Daughter

Clinton is going to have a bump removed from his back on Friday. He’s had it for 12 years, and since I wasn’t around 12 years ago, I can only assume he didn’t get it the way Scarlett acquired hers – rolling around on her back in the grass…but I could be wrong. Actually the doctor said it was a sebaceous cyst – which is essentially a clogged hair follicle. But they will now both be back bump free when the BABY comes. (Yeah, I know that’s stretching it.)

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Go go gadget arms…

My inspection classes are going well…I have had 4 each of Construction and Inspection, 8 each to go. I have the same instructor all day. He’s pretty laid back and lets us out a little early from each class, which gives us a decent lunch break and gets us home a little earlier. Once complete, I will need another 32 hours of classes to be eligible to take my test. The only 2 classes left during the summer after I finish these that would go towards it only add up to 30 hours, leaving me 2 hours shy of what I need. Hopefully the fall schedule will come out soon and I will be able to make arrangements for what I need and be able to take my last class and the test before the end of the year. I have decided to put my PE exam on hold, until April so that I can focus on the inspector test and the BABY.

As a fair warning – in order to get more field practice, after I pass my test, and before I start going into complete strangers homes, I will probably be asking each of you who own a home (or 2) if you would allow me to inspect them (for free of course).

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Ivan has a harem/gang

We haven’t gotten close enough to the cats who have been hanging around in our back yard to determine their genders, cause when they see us they run off. But Ivan either has a harem or is leading a gang of neighborhood cats. Clint caught them having some kind of meeting/discussion the other night in the bed of his truck, while Ivan sat on the cab supervising – you know, cause he’s in charge. Now, if I could just get him to stop letting them eat all his food, we’d be in good shape.

We also noticed a return of the ear scab spots he had last year…luckily I still have some prednisone (see earlier post where I mention not being good at giving them their meds consistently) and I’ve started him on a regimen to get him back to the picture of health. I made a chart – I will check off the date/time each time I give him one. I can only imagine that maybe he’s allergic to mosquitoes that are biting him on his ears, because it’s not ear mites. Last year the vet said she thought it was probably an allergy of some kind and even mentioned mosquitoes, and they showed up when the mosquitoes did, so 2+2=4 in my book.

There’s no baby connection…sorry.

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Comments

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Corpse Fairies

My doctor’s office at her Fannin location has 3 small rooms and one big room. The big room has the ultrasound machine in it, and the chair for the Dad. All the other rooms are tiny and have the examining table, a little changing area, and are basically walk in closets – but have the things you expect to see in a room at the doctor’s office….except for the art. I don’t mean to say that there aren’t the required pictures on the wall of various women’s insides and gestational pictures of fetuses to show you how in week 5 you have a lima bean and in week 18 you have a mango. Which, what’s with the food descriptions for sizes when it comes to fetuses?

But these, seem out of place. (The pictures are not the best - because they're camera phone pictures, and I will try and remember to bring our real camera to my next appointment at the Fannin Office)

We can't really tell if they're corpse fairies or angels, I mean, they have halos, but they also have wands.

Some seems to be practicing their martial arts.

Some just look like they're falling.

And hanging beside the corpse fairy mobile...a fat ballerina in a sparkly leotard.

So you can teach an old dog new tricks

Scott and Cindy came over yesterday afternoon and brought their Doberman, Kane, to play with the girls. He LOVES Scarlett – just ask him about her and he’ll tell you how much he loves her. And surprisingly enough, when they got the Doberman into the pool…Scarlett decided the top step wasn’t such a bad place to be after all. Typical girl will follow her boyfriend anywhere. Now if we could just get her to swim if she falls in instead of sinking, she’ll be ok.

Baby Update

We arrived today for our appointment, and the nurse tried to tell Clinton that they had not fixed the ultrasound machine. He tried to tell her that he would put her in a headlock. I don’t think either one believed the other.

All is well in whoville.

We were also able to confirm boyhood. Actually the technician said, “If it’s a girl, she has some major problems.” And then of course picked on Clint about needing his glasses checked since he couldn’t see what we saw last time, but he did see it this time.

But we got a few pics to share. The numbers on the bottom – for those not “in the know”

HR – heart rate – 153 bpm
BPD – biparietal diameter (skull diameter front to back) – 6.02 cm
HC – head circumference – 22.5 cm
FL – femur length – 4.45 cm
AC – abdominal circumference – 21.3 cm

He measured 24 weeks plus 4 or 5 days for everything except abdominal circumference (he’s a chubby week ahead there). Our estimated date of delivery is now Sept 23.

So – we have a face.



We have a spine.

And we have confirmed boy parts.

We are pre-registering with the hospital on Friday. I have a glucose test in 4 weeks. And at 28 weeks (as of July 4th) I am “grounded.” I am not to leave the area (defined as an hour or so away) until after giving birth.

Flickr and nursery progress

I joined Flickr to post pictures. I just have the base, free, kind of account, so I can only upload so many to that site, but the link is here and will have a few more pictures than what I post on here.

Head on over and check out the nursery progress. Actually they're mostly "before" pictures, since the only real progress we've made is to clean out that room.

$370 Bald Spot

It started on Mother’s day…she sat down as you petted her across her back. Then it moved on to not jumping on and off the bed like the crazy dog she is. I noticed the petting thing on Sunday…Clint mentioned it to me on Wednesday when I got home from work – we were supposed to be headed to a baseball game. So I called the vet – asking if it were possible that she might have a pulled muscle or should I bring her in. The vet said bring her in now! With urgency…so I freaked out. This is my baby and I had noticed her issues on Sunday and ignored them for 3 whole days and it was bad enough a description that the vet said it couldn’t wait…what kind of crappy dog mom am I?

So I tell Clint to go to the game with Scott when he arrives and I will follow when I get back from the vet. And the vet is the new vet (of a practice of 5, 3 steady, 1 fairly new, and this would be the newest). I’ve never met her, she seems likable enough. She explained her reasoning for asking us to come in immediately is that a lot of people can’t distinguish back pain from abdomen pain in dogs. (WHEW, I knew it was back pain, she’s still pooping and peeing like a champ) Well, she tells me the various things it could be, from mild to worst and we decide to take the route of some non-steroidal anti-inflammatory pills and pain pills for a week and cage rest and we’ll see what happens. I walk out $80 poorer, thinking I once again over reacted to what will be a pulled muscle.

A week later, I am about out of meds, and Scarlett is no better than she was before. So I call the vet and ask if I should continue the pills and if so that I need a refill, or should I bring her in for X-rays or something. The vet says X-rays – and she estimates it will cost around $220-$230 depending on how much it takes to sedate Scarlett.

So the next morning I haul Scarlett in for the X-rays and sit patiently by the phone waiting to hear the news that my dog has irreparable spinal damage and they are going to put her down. I get the call…FINALLY at about 3pm. She shows no issues on her X-rays, although they are going to hold them back for the radiologist to look at when they come in. For now they will increase her dosage on the anti-inflammatory and switch to caplets for the pain pill since Scarlett apparently can tell the difference between a treat and a med even if it’s supposed to be tasty. She is released to me that afternoon for $260 – pills and X-rays.

By now, I’m seriously in tears when I look at her. I can tell she’s in pain, I’m doing my best to do everything I can. For the first time EVER I have given her all the pills at all the right times for recovery.

The next morning, I fight her to get her out of the bed so she can take care of her business before I leave for work. She bites my face – kind of a warning bite, not a chomp down I’m going to kill you bite, but “see how pointy my teeth are?” lunging at me kind of bite – where she happened to ram her teeth into my face. So I sit on the ottoman and start to cry, because I’m at my wit’s end and not only can I not figure out how to fix my dog, I have now actually hurt her. And true to her mother, she feels guilt when she makes me cry and she tried to comfort me, and gave me kisses. I got her off the bed and took her outside. She’s doing her business when I notice a spot. A spot on her back where she’s lost some hair….a spot exactly where when you touch her she sits. I don’t know what the spot is, is it an insect bite? Is it a wound from a tree branch or something? I don’t know. I spray it with Benedryl spray – in case it’s an insect bite – maybe it itches. And I kennel her and head to work. I called Clint on my way and told him about the spot and he said to call the vet again.

I called the vet and made an appointment for that afternoon, I have an eye appointment an hour away that evening, but I figure I need to do this for her and if it runs over, I can always call Clint’s cousin to come take over for me at the vet’s office. We got Dr. Wall, she examines Scarlett and says she thinks there’s something in there, like a splinter or something. She asks if she can shave the area. And I say “Whatever you have to do to fix my dog.” Which I think is the sentence that allowed her not to come back and tell me what was going to happen, as I waited for what felt like an eternity.

She came back with Scarlett looking a little happier, with a little slit cut in her back where the bump was, a little blood and a little bald spot. She had a grass awn. A grass awn had caused all of this discomfort. She was put on antibiotics, in addition to her pain pills and anti-inflammatory pills. $30…the cheapest of all 3 sessions, and she’s fixed! Or she will be, cause she’s still got some healing and recovering to do. They had put some topical anesthetic on her back and cut the thing out.

A grass awn...mostly likely picked up by rolling around on her back in the grass. I looked it up on the internet and can only say I feel a little lucky and a little weirded out, because – she by all accounts shouldn’t have had one. The typically prone groups are long haired outdoor dogs who have access to fields with high grass, and even those dogs, normally get them in their foot webbing or they breathe them into their respiratory system. Although there is one sad story of a dog that seems to have had it so badly that they nearly cut him in half – or at least that what the pictures look like. It could have been worse, the dogs that breathe them in have them get in their lungs and migrate through their body. They cause abscesses along the way…it’s really a very terrifying picture of what could have been.

Anyway – I continued to give her the meds with amazing consistency (which is not like me at all with animal meds, or my own personal meds for that matter). She took her last antibiotic this morning and I’m sure she’ll be relieved to find out I have nothing to shove down her throat this evening. She has seemingly completely recovered, and although I’ll miss that while she was not feeling well, she slept through the night without asking to go out…I have to admit when she woke me up in the middle of the night a few nights ago to go out, I breathed a giant sigh of relief. My baby is feeling better!

In the midst of this, Clint said something about “if” they could fix her (before we knew what it even was). And I responded “Oh, they WILL fix her.” Scarlett is my child and I will not put her down without a fight. People have been telling me that when the baby comes I will love Scarlett less. I remember reading on another website about a woman who said she didn't believe them, when they told her she would love her dog less when her child came. She said they were right, and she was right – she didn’t love her dog less, but she loved her child differently. So I guess we’ll see. But for now – all I can say is how much I love Scarlett and her $370 bald spot.

Standing on the street corner with my bucket

We registered this week for baby stuff. It felt a little reminiscent of when we registered for our wedding. Except – you know – we knew what to expect when we got married – life does not change that drastically when you live together before getting married. We did not know what we needed to register for this baby. Yes we need a car seat, Yes we need a pack-n-play/bassinet combo. Yes, we need a high chair – but really – we don’t need it until he’s older. Yes we need a stroller. Yes we need sheets. Bottles? What kind? How many? We don’t know. I had my friend Stephanie come up on Sunday and she was a tremendous help. She has 2 little ones, one 14 months and the other 3 years old – he’ll be 4 in October.

She graciously told us what she thought were good buys and what she thought wasn’t necessary. Things they will give us in the hospital and therefore we do not need to register for. Things that she found useful and things she found completely useless.

We managed to create quite a registry between the 2 stores, and I’m going to guess that not much of it is bought, because it’s expensive stuff or it’s just plain boring.

The thing is that I feel very much like I’m just begging. Plain old, stand under the overpass and harass the people who drive by for money begging. And the things we put on the registry are just unimaginably expensive - and who in their right mind would buy me a $300 breast pump?

Playing Cards

I don’t often play the pregnancy card. When I do, it’s because I know something is either beyond my limitations or it could be dangerous for the fetus.

Discussions around our house however have become more frequent regarding my use of the pregnancy card, and I often, jokingly flash it – but I’m not really serious about it. I have never been and don’t want to be a damsel in distress.

Things I have been accused of “playing the pregnancy card” for, but I have good reason not to do them:

• Lifting heavy objects – and generally – I try to pick something up first – I do know my limitations and when I feel like I would be straining I stop and call for help.
  

• Picking up dog poo in the backyard – this is a sore point for Clint – as he believes only cat poo is the enemy, but I seriously don’t think that my handling feces of any kind could possibly be good for the baby – and I’m sure I could back that up by clicking a few links on-line – but it’s my own instinct that I should not be handling feces of any kind.
  

• Walking slower – my muscles are not holding like they used to and my abdomen hurts sharply if I walk too fast.

I feel like I might be missing out on an opportunity here, so I have decided that I need to come up with a pregnancy card. It will be similar in size to those joke cards they have at Spencer’s, like a credit card, and it will work miraculously as a get out of jail free card, only you should not surrender your pregnancy card to anyone until you give birth, and at that time you will trade your “Pregnancy” card in for a “Post Partum” card.

We wouldn't have known

Yesterday was my 3rd OB visit. It was supposed to be in town, but because my Dr. is having surgery next week, they moved all her appointments to her main office. This was an inconvenience, only until at this visit it worked to our advantage.

The appointment was at 4:30 and we arrived a little early and headed in. It was supposed to be a listen and measure appointment. No biggie – not a lot of bells and whistles. I weighed, I have normal calm blood pressure, I peed in a cup. And we waited in a small room – we hadn’t been put in before with a weird mobile of what Clint could only describe as corpse-like angels or fairies and one fat lady ballerina hanging from the ceiling. This is why I’m supposed to be carrying my camera at all times – maybe at my next visit I can snap a photo of it.

So we sit and wait and we talk about how we’re only going to hear the heartbeat and that we need to find the back-up literature that says the whole fast heartbeat = girl is an old wives tale, just in case – cause we don’t want anyone to get all excited about it being a girl or boy and it’s the other and they get all upset and have a big pile of stuff to give us that won’t go with our baby.

And the Dr. comes in and we talk about how we’re not going to do the screening for the 4 chemicals because there’s a very high chance for a false positive and it’s just not worth the worry. And how I forgot the form in the car and she says she has forms, but then that gets dropped altogether when she says today we’re just going to listen to the babies heartbeat with the Doppler. And I unbutton my pants and pull them down a little and she starts working on trying to find the heartbeat. She finds mine but no baby. She tries for about 30 seconds before giving up and sending us to the ultrasound room to have her technician find it. Clint has a worried look on his face, like something is terribly wrong. He does that though – so I don’t pay much mind to it.

We walk out and I go lay down in the ultrasound room. The technician turns the light off and had me pull my pants down slightly. She has Clint play with the chair to get my legs up – which he likes to do. She begins the ultrasound and up pops the baby…it’s moving and lovely and she shows the heart pumping. Clint asks how fast – and she shows a weird screen with a bunch of lines and somehow knows it’s 154 bpm. This is a good healthy heartbeat. And by that Old Wive’s Tale – it’s a girl.

So Clint asks if we can tell if it’s a boy or a girl or if it’s too early. And the technician says it may be a little early – but she will certainly look. So she looks and look s and looks. We see the baby scratch it’s head (it’s a thinker). We see it’s umbilical cord between it’s legs. We see it try to hid it’s parts from us by covering them with it’s hands (and modest too!) And FINALLY – she sees it. It’s a turtle. It’s boy parts. She explains to us what we’re seeing and that’s the picture I come home with. A picture of boy parts. In fact – the baby is not even wholly on the screen. I think about the awkwardness of my sending an email out to everyone with a picture of my son’s boy parts…but seriously – it looks like a turtle. And that did resolve itself by the fact that my stupid scanner at work is not really that great apparently and it got all pixelly and you can’t really even see the turtle. I scanned it in a few more times. You would think at a multimillion dollar company and a super expensive Xerox machine I could have gotten a better scan than on our $50 scanner….but this one’s better:




So the technician is cleaning up and Clint says “So are you the technician that’s always 100% right?” And she says she doesn’t like to brag, but “that’s what they say.” She also adds that it’s because she doesn’t say anything unless she sees it.

Clint is ecstatic. He had a rough day at work, but ever since we found out – he hasn’t been able to stop smiling. He probably smiled from the time we got home until he went to bed. We made a bunch of phone calls. And in a moment of silence one of us would say “Hey……we’re having a boy!” And it never got old.

I think I’ve finally connected. This is the first time I’ve really felt the excitement of this baby. Maybe now I can get off my butt and do something about getting his room ready.

Late to the Party

So, we're late to the party as usual. Seems like everyone has a blog these days. As it turns out this is going to be a really big year for us.

We bought a house: (Technically we bought it in December, but we didn't move in until January)

On the morning of the first night we spent in our new house...we found out this:

It didn't really sink and Clint didn't believe it until we saw the Dr. on Feb 7 - and he saw this:

That 6mm blob is the baby.

And then at the next appointment we saw:

So the blog is about us....but mostly the blog is about the baby.

And we can't forget the obligatory cute shot of the big sisters:

Don't bug me about it

This is a project - like any other, just as likely to disappear at any time...

I can only promise an update weekly - if I do more than that - you should just be happy for what you get.