Posts Tagged ‘pregnancy’
I just need a second to brag about how awesome my husband is.
He has been amazing since the day I met him, and he’s supported me through a good deal of crap – especially the unrelenting trauma that was my old job. He even made it possible for me to quit that horrible job, and has been patient with me as I’ve continued to be unemployed. He’s waited on me hand and foot throughout this entire pregnancy, and doesn’t lose his cool with me when I’m moody – which is all the time now.
I’ve spent a lot of time complaining here lately, partly because that’s just what pregnancy does to you and partly because I don’t like to overload social media with it where people can’t ignore the whining (I think we all know people who do that, and it gets so tiresome). It just seemed like I should bring up something good.
I’m starting to question whether or not I will stick with this OB/GYN after the baby is born. I like the doctor, and I really haven’t had any problems with the office until the last few weeks. I’m not sure whether or not it’s worth changing, but today really took the cake.
Let me rewind briefly to yesterday. I had been stressed out, as I’ve mentioned before, because I had had such a large gap between yesterday’s appointment and the previous one. Needless to say, I was glad to be there yesterday, but the visit didn’t exactly go well. From the time my appointment was supposed to begin to the time I was put in an exam room, J.R. and I waited exactly 35 minutes. From the time we were put into the exam room until the time the doctor came in was another 30 minutes. Maybe having to wait a long time isn’t a big deal, but at that moment, it was for me. It was hot, I was tired and uncomfortable, and I was already frustrated with the doctor’s office in the first place. Plus, J.R. needed to get back to work. It just pissed me off.
The exam itself went well. I will spare you the gory details (I don’t think a cervix is all that gory, but whatever), but a little progress has been made.
I was told to expect a call with my induction date today. As long as the hospital’s schedule could accommodate, the induction would be sometime before next Friday (my actual due date).
This was a great relief to me, not only because I’d see some light at the end of the tunnel, but also because I’ve been exceedingly nervous about the baby’s size. I just didn’t want it to get to the point where I had no choice but to have a C-section.
So today I waited for the call. Around 10:30 I told J.R. that I felt like I should call at some point because I was just so sure, with my luck, that they would forget me. He agreed, and we decided on 1:10 because, while I didn’t know what time the office closed on Fridays, I knew it closed early – but surely not at 1:00. I tacked on 10 minutes just to give them a chance to get back from lunch.
1:10 arrived with no call, so I picked up my phone and dialed. I got the recorded message that they had closed. I hung up and called back just in case. The same. Then I went into some hysterical crying, as I knew I would if this went awry. I hadn’t exhausted my options though, so I calmed myself down and called the hospital’s L&D unit. They didn’t want to tell me. Awesome. So then I cried so much I frightened the dogs. This is when J.R. decided he’d call my doctor’s office and talk to whatever doctor was on call and insist on an answer. I was grateful, because there was no settling down for me at that point.
Eventually he called me back and said someone was still in the office, so he’d spoken to them. They “weren’t able to get with L&D,” but they would be calling me first thing Monday morning. Well, what the fuck could I do?
I just gave up.
Then I went and got the computer and started typing this. Somewhere in the last few paragraphs, my phone rang. It was my doctor’s nurse – the one who schedules the inductions. Apparently MY DOCTOR FORGOT to give her my chart after my appointment yesterday, so she had no instruction to even call and schedule the fucking induction.
The good news – and I hesitate to even call it that – is that she was able to get in touch with L&D to get me scheduled. The bad news is that I’m scheduled for my due date (next Friday) – and who knows how big the baby will be by then? Perhaps they could have gotten me an earlier spot, had this been handled correctly from the start.
But my doctor just forgot. Does this mean I’ve got to worry about her forgetting and leaving fucking forceps in my business, too?
I hoped that the frantic crying spell might just get contractions going, but no such luck. All I can do is just sit here and wait.
At this point I have a whole list of stupid shit I’ve tried in order to get labor started. I guess that will have to go in the baby book. None of it works.
I called my OB’s office this morning to try and move my appointment up (they had me scheduled for Friday, which was just over two weeks from my previous appointment since she was out of town last week). They rescheduled it for me. FOR THURSDAY.
I, woman of no backbone, just said ok and then spent the following half hour sobbing like I haven’t done since my miserable days at the insurance agency.
You would think that they would give a little bit of scheduling priority for someone who has what is technically considered a high risk pregnancy (due to the GDM), but apparently not.
I should have called back after the crying spell and insisted on some help, but instead I got in bed and stared at the wall until I fell asleep for another four hours.
I have to figure out what to say when I call back again tomorrow morning, but why bother? I’ll just end up accepting no for an answer without protest like always. I can make a good Julia Sugarbaker speech in my head, but when it comes to reality, I just let people run all over me.
Obviously this is getting me down. I’m also more easily angered every day. I don’t even like the “How are you feeling?” texts I get. I just want to answer “Like shit. How else would I feel?” But that’s not nice.
I even had a couple of moments today where I was ready to bite a good friend’s head off – but trust me when I say she earned it.
So I’m crankier and crankier, and it’s not going to get any better. I know everyone is just so over it late in pregnancy, but very little of this is about the physical discomfort for me (though it’s no picnic). I’m mostly stressed out because I’m so worried about this baby getting too big.
I took three naps today. The first one was particularly good and I didn’t want to get up, but I had to test my damn blood sugar (I’m out of patience with this stupid GDM thing). Then, of course, I couldn’t get back to sleep.
My last nap started somewhere in the evening and ended at about 10:30 when J.R. got in bed. Now I can’t get back to sleep, but I’m tired.
I’ve found in the last couple of weeks that sleeping at night is really tough for me, but naps seem to work out alright. I’m ranging anywhere from tired to exhausted, so my experiment today has just been to nap all the time because I know my sleep overnight will be spotty at best.
I’m still a grouch monster.
I feel like life will be better when I can sleep on my back again.
So I ranted and raved about the USPS as well as the shipment of cloth diapers from China, and I was going to post the [sort of] conclusion to the story, but then I decided not to bother. Today a separate problem cropped up, so I may as well tie up the loose ends so I can tell you why I hate the US Postal Service this week.
Ok, the thank you notes: The second shipment from VistaPrint arrived quickly. I liked them and that was great. Unfortunately, about three days later the postman showed up with the original shipment which had been delivered to the wrong address (my address was correct on the label). Apparently whoever got it took their time turning it in, which sucks, but it’s not their job to fix the mail carrier’s mistakes. I refused the package. That mostly ends that story, though I wonder if they’ll ever pay our claim on the package, or if I just threw $100 away.
Now for the diapers: I heard back from the eBay seller pretty promptly, and he said he’d sent me the wrong tracking number and then gave me the right one. By the time he sent the number, the diapers were already in the US and I got them a few days later. Good enough. There’s no baby butt here yet anyway.
Nowadays when you’re pregnant you get a lot of information on cord blood banking (after the stupid maternity store sells your contact information to any and everyone). Cord blood banking isn’t a bad idea if you can afford it, and especially if there is some sort of genetic disorder in your family, but it’s very expensive. However, if you aren’t able to spend the money on banking cord blood, you also have the option to donate it so that it might help someone else. That is the option that we chose.
The process goes like this: First you fill out a really long form with lots of medical questions meant to screen out cord blood that they can’t use for one reason or another. In the case of the company we had to go through, their form said something about how it could be submitted online, but we never could locate a place to fill it out and submit it via internet. Plus, I’m not sure how they do that since they need two or three signatures from your doctor. The form is then mailed to the company, who must receive it before your 34th week of pregnancy. After that, they send you a collection kit that your doctor uses right after the baby is born. This is then sent back to the tissue bank and you’re done.
We hit a snag. Of course.
At my doctor’s appointment last week she asked if I’d gotten the kit. I’d been so busy thinking about other things that it hadn’t occurred to me that the kit never arrived. This was a little bothersome because I’m so far along – I’ll be at 37 weeks on Friday – and feel like labor could start at any moment (ohpleaseohpleaseohplease!).
So this morning I called the tissue bank to see what the hold up was… The lady checked every which way, but I was not in their computer. They never received my form. In other words, the United States Postal Service bent me over once again.
It doesn’t matter that I have the forms filled out on my computer and that I could take them with me to the doctor tomorrow to have her sign them again – because I’m too far along to submit them now. Thank goodness I wasn’t trying to bank the cord blood because of some genetic risk to my child, but I hate to think that someone else could have been helped by the donation and will now miss out.
But there is my more concrete complaint: The forms contained my full name, maiden name, date of birth, address and social security number. They also had my medical history, which doesn’t concern me. I just hope they end up in the hands of someone who is honest enough to return it or at least just throw it away.
We mailed those forms off before my other problems with the post office began, but I certainly won’t send anything like that through them in the future. Ugh.
UPDATE: Less than a minute after I got done typing this, I got a text from my husband saying that the post office had the forms and he now has them. They were returned, but he has no idea why. He went in to ask them WTF the deal was and they had them. I’m not sure why they hadn’t returned them to us. So I’m relieved that I can shred all of the info now, but I’m still pissed that this happened.
I said a bad word that started with mother and ended with fuckers, but I guess that drama is over.
This weekend I mentioned to someone that I’d like to avoid pacifiers if possible – it’s not something I feel strongly about, but I figured going without was worth a shot. Anyway, she said I might as well get over that because they would shove one in the baby’s mouth in the nursery.
This, I told her, was one of the reasons I will be having the baby room in with me – which is something I do feel strongly about. Then she tells me I won’t want to do that, especially if I want to get a nap.
For one thing, in addition to the standard pregnancy and childbirth books, everyone to whom I’ve mentioned the rooming in thing thinks it’s a good idea.
Additionally, my husband is taking time off of work for this, so if I need a nap, he’s there. I’m sure my mom will be happy to help as well.
Stop giving me advice I didn’t ask for.