Tag Archives: Amniocentesis

Jan17

Ladies and gentlemen, the final rose!

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I’m officially full-term, meaning the baby could arrive safely any day now! This means I’ve got my suitcase packed for the birth center and a playlist ready with songs like I will survive by Gloria Gaynor and Wide Open Spaces by the Dixie Chicks. It also means that it’s nearly impossible to think about anything else, even during Bachelor night, my favorite night of the week.

For several seasons now, we’ve been gathering with friends to bask in the drama of these epic journeys of love. Because we’re such a sensitive crowd, we’ve turned each episode into a drinking game—take a sip of beer (or tea in my case) each time a contestant says our agreed upon phrases like “open my heart” and “here for the right reasons.” It’s all we can do to stop from tearing up as one lingerie model after another describes her failed attempts at love.

This week I was having an especially hard time focusing, even during the group date where the women were asked to act out various animals in front of a group of fourth graders. As I sat trying to concentrate, Tofurkey was clearly enjoying himself, showing off for the “V.I.P Cocktail Waitress” with his best karate kicks.  I pictured his legs flailing away while his little head remained steady, tucked deep down in perfect position according to our midwives. He hadn’t “dropped” yet but he was certainly getting ready.

By the end of the episode my imagination was running wild. We had had our first birth class the weekend before where we learned things like the hands-and-knees-position is helpful for back pain and that shit happens (literally for most women in labor). After class, the midwives had sent us home feeling more confident and with new knowledge of things like “elevator Keigels” and “mucus plug.”

The idea that I would be giving birth soon was so electrifying that tonight, even as I watched the Bachelor, I couldn’t get my mind off of it. So during the rose ceremony, as Ben the Bachelor stepped forward, I felt a special rush of excitement. Then my head started spinning with so much anticipation, I nearly lost it and blurted out, “My water just broke!”

But it hadn’t and probably wouldn’t for several more weeks. So I contained myself. And instead of sending out a false alarm, I cheered for Ben—a little louder than usual—and wondered What if it started right now, during this ultimate moment of love and suspense? It would certainly be an episode of the Bachelor that I would never, ever forget!

Me at 37 weeks excited for Bachelor night…and my baby!

Jan2

Ring it in!

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At almost nine months pregnant, it was a strange New Year’s Eve. The monumental changing of the date has never actually been my favorite holiday, except when I was a ten-year-old and overjoyed to celebrate with a slumber party, Martinelli’s, and a viewing of the ball drop on TV. Then as I got older I began to worry about things like who I was going to kiss at midnight and the vodka to orange juice ratio of my next drink.

Obviously I had different concerns this year. Don’t get me wrong, I could not be more thrilled than to be ringing in the New Year with Tofurkey on the way. In fact, lately I have been experiencing a type of euphoria I’ve never known before. It’s a delightful feeling that makes me smile like a loon all of the time—whether while I’m doing dishes or putting my socks on. It makes me want to kiss Dave, root for the Clippers, and listen to him explain why Carl Pelini is no longer the defensive coordinator for the Nebraska Cornhuskers. It makes my eyes mist over at the sight of Tofurkey’s new toy shelf, with its cheerful monkey and frog faces winking in my direction.

But something about New Year’s Eve threw me off. I’m not sure what it was. I was excited to be spending the night in pajamas and on the couch, just the two and a half of us (lately this has been my ideal activity). But as the evening wore on I felt grumpy and tired—tired of my heavy body, tired of being home, and tired of waiting. As I fixed my fourth cup of tea, tears began to slide down my cheeks. Dave asked what was wrong and I didn’t know. So we went upstairs to lay down and I fell asleep, ready for the night to be over.

The good news is that the next morning I was up before eight and my loony grin was back. It didn’t matter that the year had changed—all was still the same—I sat eating my scrambled egg and Tofurkey hiccupped. I felt my joy grow with every little bounce he made inside my body. I reminded myself that today we were one day closer to meeting! And the sun was out, which meant it would be a good day for a walk. I looked over at our twinkling toy shelf and knew that, even with the occasional tears in my tea, it was going to be a great year.

35 weeks pregnant, posing with Tofurkey and his new toy shelf!

Dec20

Better than sin city

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Santa came early this year for lil Tofurkey, cashing in on precious gift certificates to Babies”R”Us and Target. He loaded up his red cart with toys, a stroller, a high chair, and spent an absurd amount of time picking out a diaper trash can. Good thing Mrs. Clause was there too to help with these big decisions.

When Santa arrived to drop off the goods, he saw something in our apartment he had never seen before—a Christmas tree! It was filled with lights, glittery red balls, and make-shift ornaments like kissing frog salt and pepper shakers and a Tommie Frazier card. On top was a Santa hat like none other, covered in sequins so dazzling the saint was suddenly tempted to snatch it off the tree and run off to Las Vegas!

But the smell of pine needles brought him back and he finished the job, piling presents high for the 33-week-old baby who had no idea what all the commotion was about. While his mamma slept, the baby lay curled up in a warm little womb, his head now pointed downwards ready for his birthday. This new position was good news to his mamma—but it was also a curious thing—as she now wondered what it would be like to experience one’s entire waking life upside down.

The baby let out a kick as he heard the jingle of Santa’s reindeers take off into the sky. This woke up mamma and she let out a kick too from a sudden cramp in her calf. This woke up dad who rolled over, gently laid a hand over mama’s gyrating belly and chucked.

Mama’s calf still hurt but she smiled. She knew Santa had been stomping around downstairs and she would certainly appreciate his gifts. But she also knew, even without the shiny new toys and Diaper Deluxe Champ, they already had everything—kicking, rolling, and giggling in this bed—that they could ever wish for.

Celebrating the holidays with our first baby and our first tree!

Dec13

One word, three syllables

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While weighing in at about 3 pounds and now able to turn his head from side to side, Tofurkey got to experience his first Vitamin Angels holiday party! While he didn’t get his own turn during our annual game of charades, he did get the pleasure of hearing his big-bellied-clumsy mamma try to act out “Batman” and his dad roll around on the table, pretending to be a “hotdog from 711.” He also got to feel the roaring laughter that came with seeing our various faces inserted into Jib Jab’s mariachi and Chip ‘n’ Dale’s holiday e-cards and experience platefuls of the Moroccan dishes cooked by our boss’ wife, who happens to be a world renowned chef. It was an amazing night and it reminded me of how thankful I was to not only have a job, but have one that I liked with people I loved.

I remember my first week at Vitamin Angels when I had a busted knee and enthusiasm ready to explode out of my eyeballs. I had found out about the position through Craigslist and during my first interview had an amazing realization—since finishing grad school three years ago, I had been sifting through piles and piles of randomness and had finally struck gold. These were good people, doing good things.

I knew by the way they introduced themselves smiling, many of them bouncing up and down on the yoga balls they used instead of office chairs. Always a fan of bright colors and sports equipment, I thought this alternative to boring furniture was the coolest thing I had ever seen. No wonder everyone is so happy in here! I thought, imagining myself wiggling with glee on that round rubber surface as I typed away.

Unfortunately, I had torn part of my meniscus the weekend before, so I wasn’t ready for a ball of my own. I came to terms with this after almost falling face first into my Vitamin Angels’ keyboard while attempting to sit on the thing with only one good leg. I was already embarrassed because of what I had to admit every time a new co-worker asked how I had hurt myself. “I got knocked over by a stranger on a rope swing,” I tried to explain (it had been a weird weekend). To add to all of this, Santa Barbara was also experiencing record high temperatures that week, which did not help my crutches/armpit situation.

But despite all of this, I was ecstatic. With the energy in the office so friendly and positive, I could not wait to start connecting with new supporters and tweeting, Facebooking, and blogging about all of the great things the organization was doing. Reducing child mortality by 24%! Improving the lives of mothers and children in forty-three countries! Providing vitamin A to prevent from disease and blindness! I wanted the world to know about all of this goodness—it was happening here and I could feel it.

A year later, I can finally sit properly on my yoga ball and believe I could not have picked a better surrounding to bring Tofurkey into this world.

But back to the holiday party. True to a great night, just as all the hullabaloo was breaking up, Tofurkey got the hiccups. I grabbed one of my coworker’s hands, held it to my belly and watched her eyes light up. It was Torfurkey’s first active contact with the outside world beyond me and Dave! And to my extreme delight, he kept up the show long enough for almost everyone leaving the party with us to also have a turn feeling his little thump-thump-thumping life inside my body. It was as if Tofurkey was finally taking his own turn at charades, telling the group he had a wild time at the party and couldn’t wait to meet them!

The Vitamin Angels development team – Sarah, Jess, Kim, Britt, and yours truly (the elf going under)!

Dec7

Blood sugar earth

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Last Friday we went in to find out the results of my second glucose test. If I failed again, this meant I had gestational diabetes and the midwives would have to transfer my care over to the county because of my insurance. This would also mean hello hospital birth and goodbye to all my dreams of bringing Tofurkey into this world through the warm light of the Santa Barbara Birth Center.

I had been keeping it together all week as we waited for the results. But as we drove over to our appointment I began to feel heavy and scared. When we sat down with Anna, one of our midwives, and she began going over the dates of our next few appointments, I burst into tears. Dave met Anna’s perplexed expression, explaining calmly, “I think she’s anxious to find out about the test.”

Anna set aside the calendar and handed me some tissues. She called the lab and had them immediately fax over the results. Of the four blood samples, one was out of range, meaning too much glucose. Another one was a single point away from also being in the danger zone. Anna called Alice, our other midwife to discuss while Dave and I waited.

Finally Anna hung up and explained to us what this all meant. Apparently, two or more out of range scores was a fail. It was close but I had passed.

I felt relieved and listened as Anna said that because my scores were high, I would need to continue my strict diet—eating mostly protein and veggies with a little bit of fruit and whole grains. With a family history of gestational diabetes, I still had to fight, but at least now with all those tofu nights and leafy greens, it finally felt like I was winning!

At home I took a long warm bath, trying to release stress from the week and soaking up the good news. I envisioned a beautiful, serene birth with a strong, healthy Tofurkey. Dave and the midwives were there with love and light and knowledge. There were no hospital gowns, no IVs, just us and the earth. As I released a deep breath, the little one kicked, making my belly wobble and sending out ripples of life through the calm tub water.

Dave and I summertime of last year – just a cooler, our love, and the earth.

Dec2

Does one good nip ever change?

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Our cat Beef Supreme has recently taken to curling up next to my large belly and purring. She has so many special talents I would not be surprised if she knows the little guy was in there. For example, she can self-suckle which I’ve never seen any other cat do (although I did have a friend in college who knew a similar trick).

Beef can accomplish the task in several different positions, all of which require multiple maneuvers and end with her fury legs spread, head ducked down over her own nipple, and wild slurping sounds. She also purrs aggressively the entire time as if a low-flying plane is taking off. I don’t think there’s any milk involved but it’s clear she is getting something out of it.

The morning alarm clock often sets her off—as if just the thought of Savory Shreds With Whitefish & Sardines for breakfast is enough to make the chubby cat want the Red Light Special. But the mood can also strike her at night. Sometimes she’ll creep up right in the middle of me and Dave as we sleep. We usually wake up with her vibrating feet in our face and we have to laugh before gently removing her from the bed.

When we first got our other cat, Tuna Melt, he made a few attempts to join in on the self-suckling fun, one time sneaking up and tasting one of Beef’s nipples for himself. It took Beef a few seconds to realize what was happening before hissing and jumping off the bed indignantly, making it clear that this was a one woman show. Poor guy stopped trying after a while and now, most of the time, opts for a spot alone on top of my feet.

So as you can see, Beef is a special cat. I wonder how her life will change once the baby is born. Will her self-suckling days dwindle with loud cries of a baby to ruin the mood? Or will she go at it even more, inspired by Tofurkey’s most likely equal enthusiasm for a different nip?

Perhaps one morning I’ll be sitting up in bed humming as I nurse my son—my little nugget of joy, bundle of bliss, pocket of peace—while Beef Supreme sits on an adjacent pillow purring happily as she nurses…herself. Imagine Dave is just getting out of the shower and walks in on that. What a weird family.

Here’s Beef caught in the act!

Nov30

Beer pong and butternut squash

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I had my second glucose test two days after Thanksgiving. Even with the test looming, I still enjoyed the holiday, filling my plate with turkey and veggies and sneaking one bite of everything I was not allowed—mashed potatoes, stuffing, roles, and pumpkin pie. Dave sat next to me at the table pretending not to notice my minor transgressions, which I greatly appreciated. Our friends Brett and Kristy put on the feast, setting up a beautiful space for a small group of us to laugh and eat and feel happy.

This time last year I was recovering from knee surgery and in a strange place. It wasn’t that I was depressed, but I remember looking up at a cloudy Thanksgiving sky and feeling like there was a layer of fog that was heavy on my heart. I wished for the throbbing pain in my leg to stop, to feel more settled at my new job, and most of all to have a baby. Because of the surgery, we had taken a break from “trying” and in my weakest of moments it felt like my dream of becoming a mommy might never come true.

Now, as we walked the short distance home from Brett and Kristy’s, I almost toppled over from the weight of this beautiful dream. Tofurkey sat rocking in my body like a butternut squash, as I walked slowly down the sidewalk trying not to trip from excitement and my new center of gravity.

“Can you belive we met six years ago, five blocks from here?” Dave asked, holding out an arm as we walked. We had met as undergrads at a party near the beach less than mile from where we lived now. Our eyes first connected over beer pong, of all things. It was summertime and after that night we became inseparable—cuddling on the sand, laughing hysterically over stupid movies, playing cards, walking to the coffeeshop, and eating breakfast burritos at sunrise. Within a single year of meeting each other we dated, broke up once, graduated and got married. And now, six years later, we were having a baby!

In this moment, even the thought of another failed glucose test couldn’t dampen my joy. So I was ready, two days later when the time finally came.

We woke up early and Dave drove me to the out patient lab at the hospital. Over the next three hours, they took four blood samples as Tofurkey kicked and my tummy rumbled (I had been instructed to not eat anything since the night before). Luckily, I spent most of the three hungry hours asleep, thanks to the good advice from my friend Carly,  “Tell them you don’t feel good so they give you a bed!”

On the way home, I felt good. We stopped for breakfast and I sat smiling as Dave drank his coffee and I waited for my cheesy scramble. The results would take about a week but I didn’t feel stressed. The holiday had somehow recentered me. I could think clearly. And I felt thankful for everthing—for our friends and family—for Dave, our shared love of beer pong and that lil butternut squash we couldn’t wait to meet.

Thanksgiving Day with Dave and Tofurkey.

Nov24

One Day on Earth

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Two weeks ago, a film crew clambered into our prenatal yoga class for a One Day on Earth 11.11.11 film project. Apparently, One Day on Earth began last year on 10.10.10 when filmmakers across the globe set out to record “the human experience over a 24-hour period” in an effort to showcase “the amazing diversity, conflict, tragedy, and triumph that occurs in one day.” Their combined efforts were turned into a shared video archive and upcoming feature film.

So I was pretty excited to learn that this year I had become a part of the creative energy by simply showing up for yoga. The crew brought sandwiches and snacks, recorded our class, and even interviewed us afterwards. The whole time I tried to proceed as normal although I couldn’t help but smile every now and then—imagining Tofurkey in Downward Facing Dog position, showing off his little butt to the camera!

Below is a link to the video! (I’m the one in the bright pink tank top, interviewed second to last.) I love this clip because it captures one of the things I enjoy the most about being pregnant—experiencing prenatal yoga with Siddhi, our a wise and caring instructor, and making new friends with other scared, excited, strong, hormone-crazed soon-to-be mammas.

Go here to watch>>One Day on Earth: Prenatal Yoga

Nov22

Glucose bunny

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I “failed” my first blood sugar test. Luckily, my midwife Alice, who has caring energy and wise brown eyes, was the one to deliver the news while Dave and I sat in the comfy check-up room. She gave me a food pyramid on gestational diabetes and reassured me that it was possible to pass the next test if I got even stricter on carbs and sugar. I thought about the limited diet that I already lived off—salads, tofu, eggs, nuts, veggies—and felt overwhelmed. Well, I guess there was that one night at Yogurtland. I began to cry and Alice took a seat next to me on the bed. “Motherhood is hard,” she whispered, “you have to try very very hard.”

Her gentle yet powerful words felt good and I sat up a little straighter. She was right—this was motherhood—something I had dreamed about since I was a child, something so beautiful and challenging that my life would never be the same again. And I could do it.

“What does this mean for our baby,” I said, asking the million dollar question.

“He might get too big,” she said. There could be other complications but we didn’t go into those—I still had a week to improve my diet and another test to take.

A few hours later in prenatal yoga, I got ready for my turn to share, picking nervously at my hot pink mat. When it was my turn to speak, I admitted to the class about my results. And then something miraculous happened—a woman I had never seen before said that she had gestational diabetes, which meant she had “failed” all of the tests. Now she had to test her blood sugar four times a day, but she smiled as she said this and used the word “manageable.” A wave of warmth tickled up my toes and I suddenly felt not so alone. After class, we exchanged numbers as if our shared amount of excessive glucose meant we were destined to be friends.

Later that night, when it was time for bed, I felt scared again. I frowned and Dave told me to pick out a book, pointing to the kids books on colors and the alphabet we had recently acquired from our shower. I grinned and handed him the cheesiest one I could find. He read to me from the cardboard pages of Guess How Much I Love You while I lay curled up in his arms, listening to Little and Big Bunny explain how far their love could reach. This felt good and I was thankful that Dave let me laugh and cry and be held like that. Because while I know I am going to be (and already am) a strong mommy, there are some moments while adapting to this crazy universe when I need to be a baby.

My dad reading bunny stories to me and my older sister Michelle when we were little.

Nov18

Thank the Laurels

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Yesterday I had the long-awaited, third-trimester glucose test. I don’t know much about the test except that a lady in my prenatal yoga class “failed” it and told us in tears that she was now very worried about her baby and would need to start taking insulin shots. Because my mom had gestational diabetes, I worried our fate could be the same.

I had also been instructed to fast for eight hours, so I showed up to the lab first thing in the morning, starving and ready to get this thing over with. Thankfully, Dave came along with cheerful support and in case I passed out. They gave me an orange drink that tasted like cough syrup and instructed me to pound it. “Looks delicious,” Dave smiled. We waited for an hour, trying to stay relaxed in the sticky chairs, and then they took my blood.

The next day after work, I called the lab for my results. “We can only release these to your doctor,” said the voice on the other end. I thanked her, hung up, and then the panic began. I can’t see my own results?! What the f*uck? It’s my body! I felt frustrated and powerless and extremely agitated.

I sent a text message to one of my midwives. “Did the lab send you my glucose results?” I asked. But I was so worked up that the question went to my cousin by accident, the other “Laurel” in my phone. I should have taken this as a sign from the universe. But of course, I was too busy screaming inside my own head to listen.

Quickly realizing my mistake, I sent it again, this time to the correct address. As soon as I pressed the “send” button, reality of what I had just done set in. My throat began to tighten. The midwives had given strict instructions on when it was appropriate to text (only in emergencies, otherwise email) and clearly this was not one of them. Suddenly I felt even worse—this was it—I had officially lost control and become one of those high maintenance people who can’t follow directions.

Just as my anxiety and guilty conscience threatened to overwhelm me, a text from my cousin Laurel interrupted my thoughts. “No worries! Man, I hated those glucose tests.” She was a mommy herself and her words of wisdom came as a much-needed, much-appreciated slap in face. “Weird days are okay,” she said after I told her how I was feeling in my next message. She shared that she wished she hadn’t stressed so much over these kinds of tests when she was pregnant. “Being pregnant is weird and wonderful itself,” she wrote back.

An hour later I heard from the real Laurel I had been trying to reach. “I’m in Japan!” she texted, “please call Alice or Anna [my other two midwives].” She didn’t sound mad at all, which was a huge relief. But I decided not to call or send out any more text messages that night.

Instead, I thought about my cousin and felt good. She was right. It was all so weird and wonderful. And okay. Inspired, I took a long, slow walk down to the beach and caught a cherry-colored sunset with Tofurkey. Here we are, I thought, standing in the sand as I held my belly and looked up at the caramel sky. The big news can wait.

My cousin Laurel!