Week 26! In which the final trimester looms and daunting gauntlets guard the way. Fundamentals of Engineering reveal secret quests and saporous victories! Birthing plans are hatched more faster and furioser than Vin Diesel's souped up ride. Babies cuke-zuke all the way to spikey soda. All leading up to the long-feared (hopefully) final trial of Tri-Two: The Glucose challenge 2015!
Toasty Toes Titter and Totter A view from the tip o' the old toes towards the weekend
The unsightly boil that was Monday has burst, oozing all kinds of work-puss, and with it a certain relief. The week endues itself in promises of weekend wonders. The rest of the work slog suddenly seems manageable. Until next week at least! We perch on our highest pointes to glimpse the looming break: weekend! And a mellow one at that. At least one of the mellower ones I'm promised for roughly... the next 18 plus years of my life (give or take).
Finally, the mysterious curtain on Mr. (W)right's bike dungeon and roaming shenanigans may be drawn: He was taking a big fat professional test!
This thing is called the Fundamentals in Engineering. It is a six hour test that comprises the first step towards a valuable certification called the PE (professional engineer, not phys ed). In many projects a PE must sign off on final plans, so it is a coveted certification. To attain this acme of awesome, those who pass the FE exam become EITs (engineers in training), which doesn't mean a whole lot except that they have a neat certificate and are cleared to eventually reach the next step. They then get to fill out some long application demonstrating 8 years of work as a good representative engineer candidate and then take an even longer, more specialized test.
Anyways, Andrew took the first test. After a whirlwind weekend and a half of heavy studying (to complement some intense day work several months ago before he'd signed up), and a brutal trek to the Seattle testing center. He didn't want it getting around that he was planning to take this test just in case he didn't pass. But yesterday he found out that he did indeed pass. I've landed myself and EIT baby!
WHEEEEE! I'm relieved that there's that 8 year requirement. Some of it can be eaten up by schooling, but it does mean we're a few years out still from that 8 year mark. Which might give the little Fonzarelli some time to grow and bond with her daddy before the next time he needs to lock himself in the basement (for something other than his training calendar, bills, random internet addictions... etc. etc. but those are qualitatively different) and go AWOL for a week.
Appropriately, yesterday night was our date night, so we got to celebrate his success with some tasty Mexican meals right in time for Seis de Mayo. My new go-to Mexican restaurant, El Gitano, gives guacamole instead of cheese with their black bean tostada. Major score for them in my book!
For my part, I have yet to pass my upcoming test - the "glucose challenge" - which is coming up next week. But for the next few days, blood sugar may fall where it may and nobody will be the wiser! And Andrew gets to finally mention that he took a test. And oh by the way, he passed!
Cuz he rocks like that!
Kick up the Zuke-Box! 26 weeks and tata to tri-two and the six month mark
Uh oh, belt those seatbelts (comfortably below the bump and as far back from that airbag as possible): we've almost reached the FINAL LEVEL. Week 26 is the ultimate rounding out (haha) of the sixth month, and that means next week I'll be dipping a swollen dried out toe right into the legendary third trimester. DUN DUN DUUUUUN.
Pre-term labor! Preeclampsia! Penguin whale waddling! All kinds of things to start looking out for soon.
But for now, let's just weigh the produce and check in on the little Fonzarelli baby. She is now one of the following:
1. A scallion bunch. Sounds very dashing. Rapscallionly rogue and all that. Another mild allium. And, hey, if you put the stems in water, they continue to grow for you. Like a baby in amniotic fluid? Food for thought.
2. A liter of cola - Oh great. Getting all ready for the glucose challenge, and I've got a carbonated sugar bomb in my belly already? Although with all that zip-fizz popping and sloshing in my belly, I'd believe it.
3. A zucchini - Summer must be coming! Time to have an overabundance of zukes from neighbors and friends with gardens. Why not have a zucchini Fonzarelli to go with it?
4. A small pineapple - Hopefully not nearly so spikey, but we do like pina colada and long walks on the beach. Or do we? I forget.
5. An english cucumber - Tut tut ol' chap, I've got a limey in me belly! Zukes or cukes, apparently we're going with long and green phallic symbols today. Am I sure it's a girl? Still have boys names on standby should the next ultrasound herald our ultrasound technician's previously promised early retirement.
As for the little Zuccharelli, her eyes have now been opened! And they are baby blues, just like the song. That may change. I forget the Wright/Gelfand genetics so can't remember if there's recessive blueness in my brown-eyed beau's blood (well DNA, but that's less alliterative).
Oh and she's got hair! Wild crazy cowlicky hair getting all greasy in that amniotic bath.
Her immune system is now soaking up all my antibodies, while she makes kissy faces and practices sucking on things. Mostly her thumb, although from the last ultrasound, I can imagine her toes are getting in there too.
And as I round the round-ligamental corner towards final trimester, what's in store for me?
Much of the same, but more of it. Lower back pain is definitely something I've started noticing. I'm promised rib pain is coming, along with a resurgence of heartburn and indigestion and other fun GI excitement. If one more site tells me that I can relieve pregnancy related constipation by "eating more fiber, drinking water, and moving more" I may break the internet. (Note to internet: I eat about 90-100 grams of fiber a day, various fermented foods and probiotics, walk 3-4 hours regularly, and have so much water that my OB recommended mixing in electrolytes... but thanks for the obvious; and no, no I am not gluten or dairy intolerant; nor do I eat refined carbs of most any kind... just sayin')
My blood pressure is due to increase slightly, which is not a horrible thing since I currently have a BP of "mostly dead." And - not a shocker - my skin is going to remain dry and itchy (er arid burning sandpaper?) for a good long while.
It's apparently time to start thinking about whether I want a birth plan!! Turns out that 54% of birth plans are thrown by the wayside upon hitting the delivery room, but that's not horrible odds I guess. So here's my plan so far:
1. We will watch the entirety of the Fast and Furious series together on the laptop while I am in early labor (guessing there will be time, but if not, there are a couple we could skip)
2. GET THIS THING OUT OF ME!!!!
3. Ok, put it back in, I have no idea what I'm doing and she was safe in there!!
I guess I should also be due for a major bout of nesting. I think roosting is still my preference, but they're close right?
And my belly button, incidentally, is uncertain what it is. It's often a very shallow innie still, but when I lie down in a certain way or pull the skin back to apply lotion, it's comin' out and I'd better get the party started. This is exciting. Like a landmark of some sort. Or at least something over which to obsess.
And this week, I plan to cherish the fabled wonderful second trimester, before hopping forward into that terrifying last stage. Happy Friday all! May your last day of this week echo the sweet savory goodbye and hello of time in transition!
It's MOTHER'S Day on this side of the Atlantic. A holiday derisively dismissed as a "Hallmark holiday" by my mother right up until she sends me and my sister thoughtful Mother's Day wishes. To which I must counter with threats to purchase exotic and easily killed plants for her to kill in honor of the occasion of her having born and subsequently raised me.
It's not a full-on-Mother's Day for me just yet, but it's kind of like my first half-Mother's Day. Half a mom, because I have definitely undergone some major transformations - physical and cognitive - as a result of this little creature kicking it up in my belly. It is surreal to fathom how much I can love something I have never met and which has virtually no personality. I blame some mix of egotism (just because I must) and biology for that. I also have found myself equipped with this highly honed baby/pregnant-woman radar, which makes me acutely aware of all young children and infants within a fifty mile radius.
But not quite a mom, because the real huge final shifts that happen at birth, the years of earning it with selfless love (knock on wood) and unquenchable patience (knock harder on wood) and a modicum of grace and humor in the maelstrom (pound a fist through the wood you are knocking so hard) are still a long ways off.
As such I've forgiven Andrew for not greeting me this morning with roses and chocolates before squiring me away for brunch on a hot air balloon with ponies! Next year, of course.
No, really, I actually have the best two "almost mom" gifts of all already assembled: a hooked up a/c in the bedroom and a fully assembled halo bassinet side sleeper. Courtesy of Mr. (W)right-and-then-some. The bassinet will have to battle with the a/c in terms of placement in our new set up. Currently the a/c is about one foot away from my head if I'm laying in bed. Perhaps occasionally creating some odd discomfort of being simultaneously hot and freezing at the same time. I still have some sorting out to do on that note but it's great to have it fully attached and functional.
To continue his mother's day celebrations, he'll be unpacking his study a bit more, possibly doing some bills (hasn't since he moved) and hopping off on a four hour bike ride! And then calling his mom.
Me, I'm going to honor my mother by not buying her a Hallmark card, but by joining her for a walk at the likely way-too-warm harbor. Stupid summer weather and Pacific Decadal Oscillation and stuff. Hiss.
But i have a/c for my return! And in my car!
Being a half-mom is awesome!!
Bouncing Bassinet Bears and the Evolving Nursery
At this point, I think the little Fonzarelli may be acquiring more swag than her parents (ok, ok, not if you count Andrew's bikes and his fifty bajillion shoes - but maybe her mother). A fully decked out and seasonally coordinated wardrobe, two bouncer/swings, two car seats, a wrap-carrier, a pack and play for the office, a bath, a kick ass diaper bag, a humidifier, billions of blankies, a boppie, and a hella-awesome (retro-chic linguistic fabulousness) Halo bassinet. The bassinet was our first baby item acquired, but it was mostly lolling about the baby-room in pieces until this weekend.
Now it hath been assembled. Our various baby items have been populated with stuffed animals. All is well. Baby has a pretty high chance of survival if she were born today (granted, she'd be born a wrinkly pinkish rat with a high risk for developmental disabilities and behavioral disorders, but you know... alive), so it's good we're inching towards some simulacrum of preparedness. Even in the haze of being completely and totally unprepared.
This weekend was a near unicorn of a weekend: no races, no trips, and only a 4 hour ride for Mr. (W)right. I daresay, we actually had some time to actually see each other. Although, not an overabundance since all those other events have pretty much set both of us (but more Mr. Wright) behind on the day to day stuff, and we're in a flurry of catch-up whenever there's a moment of downtime. Hence the bassinet. Hence some progress on the bike dungeon. Hence the flirtation with actually dealing with a month of Mr. Wright's mail (maybe next weekend... wait, no... he'll be on some adventure bike trip all next weekend... maybe in July? Of 2025??). Hence the newly installed air conditioning unit.
Just in time for some hot days! Phew. Except it still hasn't quite been optimized. We're in that odd transitional phase, that bit where days are hot and the rooms start retaining heat like mad, but where most nights the cool lost from closing a window (and barring the gelid breeze past midnight) far outweighs the cool revived from a simple air conditioning unit. One drawback of our new bedroom versus the old is that there is no overhead fan to disperse the air conditioning. So I'm definitely still experiencing localized COLD with an otherwise stuffy room. Since evening runs far later than my bedtime before the night gets cold, it's a struggle to decide whether to let the room get really stuffy with the a/c running and a window closed. OR to go to sleep in an oven with the window open and the knowledge that it will cool things down immeasurably for a few more weeks until summer warms up those nights too.
Decisions, decisions. I do think that once we move the a/c to higher ground (I'm thinking this would move it out of the way of my new co-sleeper and increase the dispersal of cold air to the rest of the room), the situation might improve. But until then, I think I may be just taking a midnight trip to the window and adjusting appropriately.
In the meantime, I'm pleased as a peppy petulant punch that there are clouds in the sky this morning. Especially before my unpleasant engagement in the boiler room where we hold our collaborative law meetings (ugh). A little fan can only do so much and that place is wretched in winter. Words cannot live up to its summer incalescence.
And pretty a-ok with the so-far of my Monday. Fingers crossed things stay that way and this is the start of a beautiful weekend. For me and for all! Happy Monday!
Challenging Glucose and the Orangey Doom
Well today is going to be an attempt as a semi-live blog with a few updates through the day. But to start off the merriment, today is the putative day of my oh-so-exciting Glucose Challenge!!! Next I'll be doing the OB-Mud-Run and Urban Hospital Marathon? Something like that. As briefly explained, I chug a metric crapton of dextrose, abstain from eating/drinking/chewing gum/breathing for the next while, then get my blood tested exactly an hour after the original chug. My numbers will then reveal whether I should take a more definitive test of total torture, or rest easy that I'm extremely unlikely to have GD.
Let the fun commence:
May 11th - Evening - Despite my instructions saying nothing about this, I continue to wonder if my dinner should be different in any way shape or form. I don't want to game the test, but it's also infamous for false positives or "slightly elevated numbers" that consign one to the damnation of the 3 hour test that shall not be spoken of. And the internet is confusing. Some people are lo-carbing it for eons. Others are fasting. Others still are jamming jelly donuts down their pates a half hour before the test starts. Seems like different doctors give different instructions as well, which is maddening. Mine is a nice equivocal "You don't have to fast before this test, but it is probably best if you don't eat or drink anything a couple of hours before the test." A couple? Now I know that's code for two, but it's also code for "twoish, but we don't want to be prescriptive so... do whatever you want... guess!" Drink anything? Like water? Can I not have water?? If I don't have water, I will be dehydrated and my blood won't come out... But ok, regular dinner tonight. Screw it.
5/12 Begins...
4:45 a.m. - (yes I get up early - that's part me and part the fact that I get up before my commuter husband to make breakfast etc. and this has been shifting my schedule ever earlier). Flopping downstairs in a fog. Lo-carb breakfast? Or high protein? Or should it be high fiber? What will deal with that sugar bomb and leave me less sick the best?
4:50 a.m. - Eggs. Everyone says eggs. I like eggs. No fiber though. I worry about no fiber given my ornery digestive system and the fact that I'm just surviving on about 100 grams of the stuff a day. Ah well. One test.
4:55 a.m. - Not enough eggs! Ack. Andrew's two and then... some hardboiled. But I want something cooked. Crap.
5:00 a.m. - Start mixing together Andrew's hot cereal. Must avoid mindlessly eating half of the bananas and dates I am chopping up to add. Do not sample. No sampling...
5:01 a.m. - Coffee! Must start the coffee or Andrew will never wake up! What should I have? Is lemon water too carb-heavy? Maybe roiboos.
5:10 a.m. - Ok, ok, I'll make my little pudla pancake thing but without the grain flour. Um... so one tablespoon of vital wheat gluten... How about two of flax. Flax has carbs. Huh. But they're mostly fiber. Ok, I want fiber, I don't care. And, uh, all that stuff about flax maybe having lignans that are bad for the fetus? Two tablespoons for a girl baby, meh. Good enough. I think. Doesn't flax improve blood sugar for diabetics anyways? Sure. Whatever. Overthinking.
5:15 a.m. - Phew coffee is ready and the Andrew-beast is stirrable.
5:20 a.m. - start oatmeal; mix up flax, gluten, and spices (cumin, cayenne, ginger, turmeric) with some water and let sit for a few minutes before pouring the liquidy goo onto a plate and nuking for 1 minute. Flip and wait to repeat until closer to actual breakfast time.
5:30 a.m. - My quotidian surge of residual morning sickness surges and wanes. Man, I hope I don't throw up. Then I'll have to do this all over again.
5:35 a.m. - Food is mostly ready and Andrew has been downstairs for a few minutes in shocking rout of typical behavior. Another minute for the flax/gluten, peel an egg and we'll call it breakfast.
6:10 a.m. - Hitting every light, but this KMRE all vinyl local station is actually pretty awesome. How have I never heard of it before? And someday my light will change... someday... so no more eating right? Not for "a couple of hours" Man. Sometimes tea on a light stomach makes me sick. But I need to drink something. Water? Naw, tea. Need tea.
6:15 a.m. - Office = landmine of munchable highly sugary dates and apricots and fruits and even little chocolate covered pretzels for nibbling. Resist! Resist!
6:45 a.m. - But really, drink nothing? I have to drink. I just have to. They can't mean water.
6:50 a.m. - A couple of hours, ok, so ... let's say 7:50. But I should call the lab first. Because they might not have my order. Or they might have shut down from some ebola scare or lord knows. Would be better not to chug without knowing it will go somewhere.
7:05 a.m. - Dare I treadmill this morning? After the drink? Dare I stir the stomach? When I can't drink water? Ah well. I've got time to consider.
7:20 a.m. - better get the number for the lab. Loading the site I realize that apparently all of the labs except one (for urgent medical tests only) will be closed starting on Wednesday. I was originally planning to take this test on Wednesday. Holy crap! That could have been... yikes. So if this doesn't work today, I'm screwed. Great!
7:50 a.m. - on hold with the lab after an labyrinthine telephone process... does this bode well? OH OPERATOR! Yes! Yes my orders are in! Twenty minutes before I need it drawn. Or fifteen. Or let them know what time I need it drawn. Ok, I'm cleared to take it... do I really want to take it now? Yikes...
8:00 a.m. - Ok when do I want to take this? The longer after eating the better, but the sooner I can be done and eat again the better too. Conundrum!!
8:17 a.m. - One last sip of water, blessed water! Oh I love you. And a bathroom trip and then I'll just do it. I'll go ahead and chug the orange beast!
8:19 a.m. - Uh oh, can't get the lid off.
8:20 a.m. - Pop, alright, now or never... (or next week, so hopefully now then never).
8:21 a.m. - Oh dear lord that is... ok, shades of childhood... what is this drink I recall.. not sunny d... hi-c? It's almost... I'm drinking my youth and it tastes kind of funky. Only 1/4 through?
8:22 a.m. - I have five minutes so I don't need to drown myself, but... can we get this crap over with already?? Phew!
8:30 a.m. - Must. Get. On. Treadmill. Don't know if it's kicking in, but I feel kind of funny. Must walk. Must!!
8:32 a.m. - This incline is too low and the speed is really slow... maybe a 9 incline...
8:35 a.m. - .. Maybe 12...
8:36 a.m. - Ok, they said I should be there fifteen minutes early, so I should be there twenty minutes early in case something happens and I want to be there at 9, then, so if Train B leaves the Chicago station at noon going 20 mph and Train ... wait, ok, um, I should leave at 8:50, but that means I should leave from here at 8:45, which means if I want to pack water and lock the door, I should ... Noooo don't make me get off the treadmill!!
8:40 a.m. - Alright, alright, must bring water. I'll probably be thirsty afterwards. Snack? Snack? Probably but what? Nothing portable that I want. Ok screw it. I'll deal later. Maybe chocolate. I'll throw some chocolate in my purse. Do I have my book?
8:45 a.m. - Well I'm nearly down the stairs and it's too early and what if there isn't a line, then I'll just be sitting there waiting and that sounds unpleasant... um I'll go back up all the stairs to floor 13 and back down. Preferably quickly.
8:53 a.m. - Well guess that took more time than I thought. Oh lord, what if I'm late and it's backed up?
8:55 a.m. - Um... notes to self (1) blinking is a thing we do, and (2) speed limit is 25, not 50. They do both have 5 in them, but are different.
9:03 a.m. - Well, of course there's nobody here and now I'm early. I'll go to the bathroom first and check in at exactly 15 minutes 'til.
9:05 a.m. - Wait, there was a urine sample for this too? Crap. Oh well, pregnant bladder. Should be good to go in another few minutes ago.
9:10 a.m. - Not sitting. Don't care if they told me to. Not doing it. Stand awkwardly behind the other few people in the room with my book in one hand and phone in the other. Just in case something vital happens either with somebody I know or Anna Karenina. Got to keep that vigil!
9:16 a.m. - Ok, they should call me back soon. Sometimes my veins are difficult. That would suck if they missed the window because they couldn't get a good one. Or not suck, as the case may be. I hope they give enough time for a little poking. They really should call me back... if they don't should I go up there and be a bother or... Phew my name!
9:20 a.m. - That wasn't even my good arm. Can't believe she got it on a first try. And surely they wanted more blood than that. Asking about it to be sure I'm told "oh yes, we're testing your blood for a lot of stuff" and am then handed a urine cup with several instructions on doing a "clean draw" that likely won't manifest.
9:25 a.m. - Wow, I'm done. I don't feel weird. I never got nauseous or threw up. I feel kind of medium energy.
That was surprisingly not that bad.
Unless the results suck and I have to take the three hour. Then I take it back!
Onwards and upwards towards treadmills and regular work days!
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