Same old stuff

Disclaimer. I'm beginning to sound like a broken record. Ok, still sounding like a broken record. If you're tired of hearing it about how pre-partum depressed I am and the same tired reasons, don't feel like you have to read. I'm questioning the wisdom of continuing to blog in these last weeks because it's become clear to me that my fears are entrenched and my mood isn't changing.

I'm still in a four-month funk. Smack dab in the middle I guess. I still feel a little distanced from the pregnancy. Everything seems on track. Everything seems fine. No one is worried about my baby except me. But still, the funk persists. I feel like I did when I was approaching the NT scan. So nervous that it was making me upset. So upset that I had to just forget that I was pregnant for a while. Little harder to do now with the LO kicking and squirming and my baby shower on the horizon and everyone's well-wishes and comments and stories. I am clearly a pregnant person now. Visually. Physically. There's a baby in there. I can feel him. I know about where his arms and legs are. I can identify limbs by where I'm getting socked. I can even feel his little feet through layers of belly. It's amazing. It thrills me. But I can't let go.

This week when a work acquaintance that I hadn't seen in over a year asked me (not wanting to be too forward) "what's new?" I talked about how hot it's getting. Not about the baby. What's wrong with me? I haven't put a single post up about my pregnancy on FB. I could say it's because I'm trying to be sensitive, but the truth is I'm just scared. Scared to count my chickens.

I just had my 32-week appointment. Fundal height is 32. Baby's head is down. Heartbeat sounded slower to me, w/ no accelerations, but sounded fine to the OBG. We didn't listen very long. The baby was being pretty quiet and I know the hb slows as the pregnancy progresses. The kid won't have a rate of 150 his whole life. But every time she says something's fine I have flashbacks to a year ago when she was telling me that my elevated HCG of 44 several months post-miscarriage must be the result of a second pregnancy. When the level was still 44 two days later she was convinced we had caught the hormone levels at 44 going up and then again at 44 going back down two days later. A second failed pregnancy, she concluded. Now I understand that when you hear hoofbeats you should look for horses and not zebras. But when you're on safari and you hear hoofbeats and then you see stripes, and then you conclude that somone must have painted stripes on their horses, you are delusional. I'm worried about the lengths she goes to to convince me that everything is fine. I want to believe her and everyone else telling me not to worry. I can't.

Instead I make desperate attemtps to control the other aspects of my life and my pregnancy making myself and everyone around me somewhat miserable. Example: my parents made me a sandwhich with lettuce from their garden the other day. I wouldn't eat it, I found the tinyest speck of dirt after a careful examination and concluded that if I took a bite I'd be fretting about toxoplasmosis for the next two months. Another example: I had been planning a mani/pedi trip with some girlfriends - I had been looking forward to it for ages and I was the one making all the arrangements. And a couple days before the trip one of my friends asked, in all innocence and sensitivity, are you sure you want to go? Implying that I might be concerned about fumes or something. I went from super excited to hopelessly fixated on the tiny possibilities that something could go wrong - bacteria, infection...PTL, fetal demise, I couldn't stop my brain from going there. And even though I've had two pedi's during this pregnancy I suddenly couldn't cope with the idea of going. At the last minute I made up some excuse about having to work. This is depression. Paranoia. Anxiety. I'm pretty sure I'm a good candidate for a 'peace-of-mind' amnio or anti-anxiety meds. But I'm so close. I'm going to suffer through. And if I get a chance to hold a healthy baby in my arms I will know it was all worth it.

I keep telling myself that we'd know something by now. If something serious was wrong, there would be signs by now. We've come so far and everything is SO on track. But then I realize that's how it goes in a lot of tragic stories. There is always a tragic story to match my experience. I go on google sometimes just to get a 'fix' of reassurance. There are so many good stories out there. But there are some bad ones too and sometimes I get bitten in the a$$. I'm kind of over it though, it's getting so close and so real that no one else's stories are going to matter soon. Because I will know the ending to my own. I won't have to rely on statistics or signs. I will know.

It's hard to keep up the charade of bliss. It really feels like I'm pretending when I'm talking about daycare options or things I'm planning to buy for the baby. My SIL is making my shower quite the event and it makes my stomach turn a little. She's having her husband hang awnings on the house! ??? And she and my mom have been out shopping a couple times just for decorations, favors, etc. They are so excited. I wish I was. This is all I ever wanted. But at the heart of it, I want my baby to be healthy.

The bigger he gets and the closer I get to meeting him, the more practical I've become. He is my baby. No matter what. I love him. And I will take care of him. What scares me is the thought of losing a baby, watching my baby suffer, and what that would mean for my life. My marriage. My family. It happens.

I try to tell myself that I'm worried about nothing. An infinitesimal chance. Try to tell myself that some people without a CPC on their baby have a higher chance that theirs will have T18 than I do, just by virtue of their age or because their screening results didn't turn out quite as perfectly as mine did. I try to tell myself that no one has a guarantee, not me and not the women who are enjoying their pregnancies and their showers and decorating their nurseries. I try to tell myself that I'd be worried even absent the CPC. Worried yes. Depressed no. I'm a different person than I would be if I knew all was fine. If the biggest things I had to worry about were labor pain, not eating raw cheese and avoiding car accidents.

In other interesting news, my OBG, the one whose piss-poor handling of my miscarriage and GTD has haunted me for a year, that I haven't managed to break free from, is going to be gone for three weeks in august. Sabbatical. Chances are that she won't deliver me (score). AND, it also means that I'll be getting a different obg for those weekly appointments leading up to the birth. Which means a second opinion on just about anything I want to ask about (ahem, CPC). Losing your OBG at the end stages and having an unknown in that role would probably terrify most women. I, on the other hand, am thrilled.

Thirty Weeks

How far along? 30w6d



Maternity clothes? Yes. I went shopping like I promised last weekend and came back with a couple T-shirts, a dress for the shower (and an upcoming work bbq) and a new handbag. Doesn't a handbag count as maternitywear? I don't care, I needed the retail therapy. It's a longchamp bag. The last handbag I'll ever need. I know this because I have a smaller bag made from the same leather, it's treated such that it won't scratch, it's waterproof, and it doesn't look 'treated' - it just looks sleek. It's a day-to-night bag and holds everything I need, even the occasional water bottle or book, without looking too huge. And it's probably the last purchase I'll make for myself for a loooong while (although I'm already thinking of getting the PX90 system for after delivery...anyone have any advice on that? Anything from "get it it's the best decision you'll ever make" to "forget it you moron, don't you know you won't even have an hour a day to yourself post-baby?")



Stretch marks? Belly is still clear. It's really starting to stretch though, I hope it stays this way. It's one of the last things I care about, really, but I wouldn't mind getting through this with my belly unscathed.

Bellybutton: Still goes in.


Sleep? I can still sleep! Oh and I do. And I'm starting to feel really tired lately. Like first-tri tired. The only thing keeping me from getting as much as I want is work and TV - has nothing to do with pregnancy. There are so many good shows on right now. E.g. so you think you can dance, hell's kitchen, kourtney and khloe take miami, I have a backup of glee episodes on my dvr, I'm a chelsea lately addict...I can't get enough of TV. I keep thinking TV is all I want during labor and I will never get bored spending all that time in the house during maternity leave.


Best moment this week? I had a good (read: uneventful) dr's appointment which was nice - baby is head-down (which I knew already because I've been feeling hiccups in my a$$ basically - sorry if TMI). I read some CPC post from a girl who said she was sent to the mayo clinic and that the mayo clinic's latest position on CPCs are that they don't increase your chances of trisomy with no other signs (so yes, I've still been googling, but I stopped after that one - quit while you're ahead, right?). But I think the BEST moments have been the ridiculously strong kicks I'm getting - to the ribs, to the guts, I don't care, it thrills me. It's starting to feel like an earthquake in there, like he's trying to get out through the side. Doesn't happen with that kind of strength all that often, maybe once a day or every other day, but man am I impressed by this little guy's forcefulness. It's really reassuring.

Worst moment? I hate how freaked out I am by my poor furbaby now with her bark collar. I make DH handle it as often as possible, I don't want to even be around it when it's on and when I know I'm going to get home before him and have to take the collar off, I worry a lot about how I'm going to do it without hurting myself again. The dog is a complete nutcase when we get home, very chaotic, jumping and yelping, and it's easy in that setting for the thing to go off accidentally. I'm downright phobic of it now and I really don't need that extra stress.

Movement? Still on days and off. But like I said, getting stronger. Sometimes it hurts, sometimes it keeps me awake, and I love every minute of it.

Food cravings? Sweets. Fruit. I find I need more and more water every day.

Gender? Boy.

What I miss? Not being so paranoid.

What I look forward to: meeting my baby.

Pre-Baby To-Do list: We crossed off "find a pediatrician." Now on the list are things like survive the shower, finish the nursery (pretty much just need to assemble the bureau and hang a quilt, everything else is done!), four days of baby/birth classes, and there will be some mad-dash shopping after the shower for sure since we're only leaving about 4 weeks between the shower and the due date and probably won't buy a thing before hand.

Milestones: We went to our first baby class - it was infant emergencies and CPR. It was taught by an older guy who has been a paramedic for decades and it was pretty hard to hear all the horrible stuff that can happen. What a life that guy must have lead so far - all the things he must've seen. I thought the class was very helpful. Sure there was a lot of common sensiness, but also a lot of things that I wouldn't have thought of, plus the essential skills like CPR and baby heimlich.

Emotions: I am a complete and utter emotional mess. This week I've come home from work crying, and cried myself to sleep twice. I've cried at radio commercials and TV. There are a lot of factors here. Work has been awful - not only too busy, but also one of those weeks where you realize you just can't be friends with a superior - can't trust them, need to realize they don't care about you, etc. I was treated horribly this week, with disrespect and broken deals and just felt walked all over and used and unappreciated by one of the partners whom I most trust, despite doing extremely good work on an impossibly tight schedule AND going beyond 'above and beyond.' I also got in a fight with my mom which didn't help. And of course, everything is made so much more fragile by my fear about the baby's health. I keep thinking I will be a new person once he arrives safe and sound. And not just in the usual "i'm a new parent" sense. More in a "my brain is better balanced, chemically, now with markedly decreased stress hormones." I know all you nay-sayers thinking "Astrid, you have no idea, the stress hasn't even begun." But I am not your average worrier. And as I've said before, I am confident that what I will feel post-partum will be more relief than anything else if this baby is as healthy as he seems. I keep thinking of all the things I will be able to do without a second thought. Eat a tomato from our garden (worried about toxoplasmosis now), not compulsively scrub the cutting board and knives for fear that DH's deli meat residue is all over the place, handle the shock collar, not feel the need to compuslively wash my hands or never use the same dish towel twice, not be kept awake by the idea of the dogs stepping on me in the middle of the night, not be so afraid, and not wake up every single morning with the CPC on my mind. I thought I appreciated the idea of a healthy baby after suffering a traumatic loss, but I had no idea. Just as the hell of infertility and loss makes you appreciate pregnancy more, a scare during pregnancy followed by a positive outcome would undoubtedly make me an even more appreciative parent, if that's possible.

My trip to L&D

First, don't worry. No emergency here.


I called my OBG the day after the whole shock collar episode just to let her in on the news. I LOVE second opinions, love to know whether I'm getting some doctor's random conclusion on a matter they've never really thought about, let alone studied, or an actual tried-and-true medical assessment. The way the on-call doctor brushed off the collar shock by saying "it's safe for a dog so....no big deal" kind of ate away at me. Safe for a dog so safe for a tiny fetus heart? Really? I don't know. Still I wasn't that worried (thank you #2billion75 to the doppler) but in true form, wanted to just make sure the advice was consistent and thought my OBG should be aware of what happened anyway. So I left a message for my OBG about what happened. Before she hung up, the receptionist asked the typical "is fetal movement normal?" My response: "well, he's definitely moving, but less so today [the day after the shock] than yesterday." This was true. He was moving waaay less for about 48 hours after the shock. He has quiet days. But this was two quiet days in a row... Still, I wasn't that worried. But that comment about 'not moving as much today' was enough for the OBG to send me to L&D for monitoring.





This is one of those times that made me simultaneously glad she was taking a concern of mine seriously and also worried that maybe there was a reason to be concerned. When she called me she gave me her usual analysis - every time I ask a question the answer either depends on (A) what the American college of OBGs has to say on the matter or (B) how many studies there have been on the subject. This time the comment was "there just aren't any studies on this." She said she doubted it was a big deal but that if I noticed less movement, she just wanted to be sure everything was ok. I did too so I was fine with the plan. And stupidly, I had done some googling in the meantime (it's a disease) and noticed that electric shocks can gravely affect fetuses depending on things like voltage and duration and path of the current through the mother's body - even if the mother isn't affected all that much. Sad, scary studies. So there were studies but not on bark collars. I couldn't even figure out how many volts were in the dog collar, it's probably a PR thing for the e-collar industry. Doesn't look good for a company to talk about peoples' dogs in terms of "voltage applied" probably so they keep the information hidden. I did find plenty of anti e-collar propaganda swearing that the collars had something like 7500 volts but even if that were true I think the actual voltage applied is more like 5-25. Whatever. I think it's like alcohol during pregnancy - there's no minimum that's been proven safe. Obviously it's ok and probably unavoidable to withstand some static electricity when touching a door handle or your car or doing laundry. It's like that 'unavoidable' glass of wine. But more than that and you're in no man's land.



It was neat to see the place I would deliver (provided I don't end up delivering in a stalled elevator, a car, or an emergency room somewhere), I was glad to make the trip - I planned on doing a dry run anyway before 37 weeks and this way I even got my intake information completed so I won't have to worry about that when the time comes.



There were some anxious thoughts in my mind on the way over because it occurred to me that I might get an ultrasound. Would I finally be able to see that little growing body, maybe a waving hand or some thumb sucking, would they check the fluid level and would I finally be able to put my mind at ease on the T18 stuff? Or would I see something else that would haunt me until August. Worse, would they see something alarming...



No u/s. I should have known. Instead they did a non-stress test. I've never had the occasion to do one of these and didn't know anything about it but it was pleasantly non-invasive. Just some quiet time with the monitors strapped on for me to just sit with my little one and focus on no one and nothing but him. It's so rare that I get that kind of time during the day and I really love it. I look forward to that window between when we go to bed and when I actually fall asleep every night becuase it's then (and often only then) that I can focus all of my attention on what's going on in my belly.



The babe passed the NST with flying colors. They're supposed to show something like 2 heart rate accelerations in 20 minutes (or something like that - correct me if I'm wrong) and the LO did 3 in ten minutes. He was moving plenty even thought I couldn't feel a lot of it, and this was all with no 'trigger' - no juice or soda. Just little him.



He was declared fine and I was free to go. It was nice to get a little check in without the fear of something really being wrong. And since then he's really picked up in the movement department. Even his hiccups feel stronger. Next appointment I think the OBG will check for his position and man, the time does seem to be getting nearer, despite all odds. August may get here after all.

Shocked

This blog should be renamed to something like "how to drive yourself crazy in 9 months." Like one of those quickie workout plans. Step one would be worrying about all the "rules" about pregnancy. The basics, you know, like don't eat deli meat unless it's steamed (?!) and stay away from raw eggs or fish, bacteria, germs, people in general. Like to work out? Well forget lifting anything over 30lbs or getting your heart rate over 140. So basically forget working out. Don't clean the litter box, don't do any painting, make sure to wear your seatbelt just so. You can try having a glass of wine, but it's not recommended. Just the basics here.

Step 2 would be grappling with all the choices that are easy on most days but a source of grave anxiety when you're pregnant. Like the whole flu shot debate, whether or not to take that long treacherous drive, whether or not to worry about cross contamination with respect to your vegetarian sushi...

Step 3 is what I like to call having the fear of god struck into you on top of everything else. While my CPC episode is a 1 in 100 occurrence, chances are much better than that - more like 1 in 20 - that a given pregnant woman will have some mention of a serious disease or condition as a possibility during her pregnancy. Mostly these will be "false positives" of course but then there are more tests and risks of m/c associated with those tests to worry about. And it doesn't help that it's not ourselves we're putting in jeopardy, it's our baby, our child, the ONE we worked so hard for and sacrificed so much for and have so much hope for. Our everything, basically. Everything. And there are other fears along these lines that can rain down, disasters that we have no control over. Cord accidents. Ic. Placental abruption. I don't need to tell you ladies how long this list is.

Step 4: the unforeseen crises, be they real catastrophes or mostly in your head. Makes no difference to you because to you they are real crises. This is the subject of today's post.

I think it helps to start out as a worrier who has either had trouble conceiving in the first place or who has suffered loss. These kind of credentials can help catapult you through the steps with the greatest of ease. And I happen to fit the bill. In that last category I would put things like spilling foundation in your water and then drinking some before you figure out what's happened. Again, who does that?? Others might be getting the flu, falling, getting in a car accident, having a dog jump on you, getting an open wound and wondering whether it's more dangerous to apply neospor!n or to not apply it, accidentally breaking one of the rules set forth in step 1...things that you wouldn't think twice about on normal days that suddenly become life or death situations. I ran into one of these yesterday. I got shocked.

I had just gotten home from work and let the dogs in, one of whom wears one of those static correction bark collars. I hate that thing, HATE that she has to wear it, but it's one of those last ditch efforts to save her from being taken back to the area animal control. We live SO close to our neighbors and she just barks. It's the only thing that works. So I'm holding it in my hand and saying hello and all of the sudden...ZAP! out of nowhere. I've never felt one of these things before and it was a little stronger than I expected. Don't ask me why I was holding the whole unit in my hand, prongs pointed towards my fingers, YES I should have known better, but there it was. And I. FREAKED. OUT. I screamed and reflexively threw the thing on the floor with such chaotic flare that the poor dogs cowered and whimpered and ran for hiding. I could not get my computer out fast enough - first to find the number of my OBG (why I don't have the office on speed dial by now I can't tell you) and then to google obsessively while I waited for someone to answer. The office was closed so I asked for an on-call doctor. In my book, this was an emergency, no doubt about it. The on-call obg was paged and then the tears started flowing, out came the cheapie doppler (there comes a rare moment after some purchases (not many) that truly validate having made the decision and make you think "I would have paid far far more for this moment" and this was one of them). Heartbeat sounded fine. I even felt a few kicks. And had I thought about it rationally I would have realized how very far away my hand is from my uterus and how very innocuous the voltage was. But it was on the highest setting, and electricity can travel through your body, and it can kill, and the baby is so small...what if I electrocuted my baby?!....what if what if what if......

The on-call doctor called back mercifully quickly and was like "yeah, no big deal." "Ok, that's good to hear," I was fighting the shake in my voice. She said "it's a pretty low amount of electricity, they have to be safe for dogs...and you just felt it in your hand right? It's not like it was on your belly." "No, just felt it in my hand as far as I could tell. Ok, right, I know, it's totally safe, just didn't know how it would affect a baby..." "It really shouldn't, just call us if you notice any difference in movement."

Awesome answer. But for some reason it takes a lot longer for perspective to set in than for fear to take hold. It took another half hour to stem the tide of tears. I was SO distraught and still scared, maybe by the situation, maybe by my own reaction. Still scared for the baby, I felt bad for scaring the dogs, for making the one wear this awful awful collar. I had had a HORRIBLE day at work (another long story for another day). It was just a pileup of emotion, you know the kind. Where you just can't take it anymore.

UGH! I am loathe to complain about anything pregnancy-related. This post should not be construed as an "I can't effing wait for this pregnancy to be over" post. It's more a reflection on the challenges it presents (challenges gratefully faced of course). A way for me to assess how I've handled it (please let it be true that this is just "first pregnancy paranoia" like my secretary says). Or just a story someone somewhere someday may find when they're worried because they've shocked themselves with a bark collar and need reassurance.

Twenty Nine Weeks

How far along? 29w1d

Maternity clothes? Yes. But I still have 4-5 non-maternity shirts that my mom and I bought that still fit from the sportswear dpt in M@cys. Amazing how forgiving some of the styles are now. I had a little scare this week at work - I was told I might have to show up for a deposition. In my practice area I am rarely in front of clients. It's perfectly fine to wear khaki capri maternity pants and a nice top and flats at the office. But every once in a while, a partner thinks it's a good idea to put me in front of an actual client. Which is fine except guess how many suits or work shirts fit me right now? That's right. Zero. I struggled to find something that would work - packed two outfits into a garment bag so I could decide later, and stressed about it all morning. I should have been more prepared - there was no time to shop, I should have done it ahead of time. Luckily duty did not call, I wasn't needed. I do have a client meeting on Monday though...I think a little trip to the mall is in order this afternoon. Especially since DH is out of town and won't be offended by my money-spending. And because I need a new handbag ;)

Stretch marks? see the last several weeks' answer 'cause it's still the same. My OBG remarked how line-free my belly is at my last appointment.

Sleep? Still pretty easy for me to sleep despite waking up 4-5 times a night due to pee breaks and fur babies. I'm sleeping for 7-8 hrs on weekdays and 10-12 on weekends and I love it.

Best moment this week? There were several good moments, I don't know if there were any 'best' ones. My Dr. appointment went well, I made it to the gym for some powerwalking and celebrity tabloid TV yesterday, DH and I haven't gotten into any fights in a long time, I've been very (and pleasantly) busy at work, it was a good week. Or at least an average one.

Worst moment? Well there were a few of these too.

• One of my co-workers, V, mentioned that she had gotten my shower invite. I'm not sure if it's because I am not liking V very much these days or if it's the whole idea of a shower but I was kind of distressed by this news. A shower? It's really happening? People have been invited to a shower for my baby? What? I've never liked being the center of attention unless it was exactly on my terms. This does not feel like it's on my terms (and even then it's pretty strange). It feels too tenuous, too private, too emotional and scary. Feels too soon after my wedding to be asking all these fine people in my life to buy us more gifts. Feels bad asking people far away to travel down to where I am when I haven't been very enthusiastic about making visits in the last six months - first because of m/s, now because it's too exhausting to drive 6-8 hrs round trip in one day for one party or gathering that really focuses on alcohol. And I'm SO scared of something going wrong - the baby not being healthy, getting in a car accident an hour away from the hospital at 37 weeks (or going into labor)Anyway, this is not how it should be, but I realized, once it became real, that I am not really looking forward to my shower at this point. I have about a month and a half to get over that.

• Yesterday I had to take DH's truck to work. It's really bouncy. Ridiculous. And the seatbelt sits really tight and I had too-tight pants on and it all made for an uncomfortable drive. And then I didn't feel much movement for the day. Not much at all. Cold water didn't do it, eating, I had to down a couple red vines to get even a feeble response. And I started to freak out a little what if the placenta abrupted?!. Luckily I was really busy at work so I didn't go as far as to make an appointment. Also luckily, I know he has his more quiet days and he was moving a little so I didn't completely have a meltdown. And then last night, in the middle of the night (see below), it was non-stop so I'm feeling much better. It just felt like those old first-tri fears that make you want to sit in a bubble for your entire pregnancy were creeping back in and made for a stressful day.

• I don't usually get scared when DH leaves for a night or two (or sometimes more). We don't live in a horrible neighborhood, but it's not that great either and the security on our house is less than zero. We have the thinnest of single panes on our windows, big window on our front door you can punch right through to get to the lock, no alarm system, etc. etc. We do have lots of neighbors and two dogs though and like I said, it doesn't bother me too much usually. But I didn't walk the furbabies yesterday so they were unusually energetic all night. At one point our pit-mix started barking and growling out in the hall. She barks sometimes at night at nothing but not this viciously or persistently. And when I stepped out in the hall, heart racing and clutching my cell phone, I noticed she was barking at the front door. She usually barks at the backyard door. I was freaked. out. I couldn't see the front door from the hall and I wasn't brave enough to go down the hall and look to see whether anything (anyone?) was there. I was scared out of my mind. I called the dog thinking if she comes there's probably nothing there. If there's something there she won't come and she won't let up. She would be the best guard dog if ever there was really something wrong but there are a lot of false alarms. The mailman for example. She came back to the bedroom with some urging but for the next hour I lay awake in fear with all those horrible thoughts of things that could happen running through my head. I thought about calling the police to see if someone could come by to just check. I had called DH a couple times already that night and hadn't heard from him (cue a totally different set of worries), but in the end I just waited it out. Waited for myself to get too tired to worry. My dogs were with me. I decided whatever would be would be. And the most interesting thing about this whole episode was that the baby was moving the whole time and I could feel everything. Why is that? Every single movement. Was he more active because it was at night and I don't usually notice because I'm asleep? But this was more movement than I've ever felt by a long shot. Was my ute contracted or his space otherwise restricted because I was so tense? Was he spurred on by my stress hormones? My heartrate? It was the weirdest thing. Reassuring and a good reminder that I needed to calm down. For his sake.
  
  Movement? Yup, like I said, 'on' days and 'off' days but I can definitely feel him getting bigger and stronger.
  
  Food cravings? Any kind of asian food. Fruit (YAY for a healthy craving). Chocolate.
  
  Gender? It's a boy! As far as we know. I keep imagining a delivery room scenario where we're surprised to find out it's actually a girl. Stranger things have happened. Good thing most of the stuff I'm registered for is neutral.
  
  Bellybutton: Still in but getting shallow.
  
  What I miss? Not being so paranoid.
  
  What I look forward to: meeting my baby. retail therapy today.
  
  My baby to-do list: (I added this one upon realizing just how much there is left to do to prepare) Pre-admission forms for the hospital, assembling furniture, fixing my registry since the invites just went out. Half the things I've put in have become 'temporarily unavailable online' which is LAME. I can't keep re-doing it every week! Pick a pediatrician, sort out my leave with my HR person. Still have all our baby classes ahead of us too.
  
  Milestones: Baby shower invites are out.
  
  Emotions: If I'm being honest (and sorry to be such a downer) I really do think I'm suffering from pre-partum depression. Or some kind of depression that I haven't felt in a long time. I don't doubt that the CPC issue triggered it but I often question whether I would be overwhelmed with fear and depressed at this point anyway. I kind of doubt it because I love being pregnant aside from that whole fiasco. I think I would benefit from medication. I've taken Zo!oft in the past and it was a miracle for me. But I'm going to hold out 'til the baby's here because of the association with a rare lung problem. I know it's a remote concern but I'm doing ok without it and better safe than sorry. Also one less 'increased risk' to worry about.

Thoughts at the dawn of the third trimester

Dr's appointment yesterday went pretty well. My fundal height went up 5cm in one month and my weight only went up a half pound. My jaw dropped at that. No. freaking. way. I had been trending at 1lb per week consistently since the beginning and I was sure last month was the biggest growth period yet (I was right, according to my fundal height). I haven't changed my behavior at all. I guess my body just evened itself out this month because now I'm exactly where I should be for weight gain. No less than three people mentioned that I looked good and like I had been laying off the beer and ice cream. The ice cream comment was from my OBG and I didn't miss the opportunity to tell her that, actually, I have ice cream every. single. day. True story. There may have been about 2 days during this pregnancy that I didn't have ice cream but that's it. Slow churned, 1/2 the fat, but still. It's all very nice to hear but 'yall ain't seen nothing yet, if you know what I mean. I just started the third tri. I have almost three more months of growth to go. It's easy to look good for an 8-month pregnant person when you're only 6 months, you know? S-- could get scary still.

The OBG said it looks like I will be having a very average-sized baby and that I will go "back" to being a toothpick right after (I've never been a toothpick) since it looks like all the weight I'm gaining is in my belly. She keeps saying things like this that kind of compromise her credibility. Of course they're what I want to hear but of course there's no way for her to know. Fundal height is not a super accurate measure of size, generally, and how the H does she know how my fat deposits will allocate themselves in the very dramatic home stretch of pregnancy? Whatever. I am happy with the way I feel. I am energized and healthy and I couldn't ask for more, physically. I could ask not to have a mental breakdown every other day but I dare not for fear of asking too much.

The nurse explained a bunch of hospital intake forms to me yesterday and then finished by asking if I was nervous. "I'm not nervous about labor," I said, "just nervous about the baby's health...they found a CPC at my 19 week scan." "Oh, you're worried about that?" She responded, it wasn't totally clear whether she knew what a CPC was. "Oh we've had a couple of those and no problems at all, not in the last two years." No idea why she answered like this. First, why the cutoff at 2 years - what happened before that? I didn't ask. Maybe that's when she joined the group, maybe that's when they stopped ordering follow-up, and maybe she was making it up because she had no idea what I was talking about. Who knows? Also, according to my OBG the frequency of CPCs among her patients are more like a couple a month. Not a couple period. I made a mental note a while ago that this assistant is not a wealth of information so I dismissed the comment.

The baby was really active yesterday and my OBG noticed an acceleration while we listened to the heartbeat and said we had a wild child on our hands. "Good." I responded. She looked surprised - probably surprised that I wouldn't want a more mellow kid, so I clarified, "as long as he's healthy."

Everyone keeps saying everything will be fine. But what does anyone know? I'm still not convinced. I feel very very fortunate to be pregnant. Fortunate that he's alive and kicking today. I feel excited for the possibilities. But I can't shake the fear. I was planning my baby shower this weekend, planning a winter getaway to Mexico yesterday, and it all feels too good to be true and like I have to remember that it's all just a dream and may never happen.

I thought as I got closer to the due date, and as I had more appointments during which everything checked out fine I would relax a little. But I'm not relaxed and I think the countervailing force is exactly that the due date is getting closer. This is all getting very real.

I mentioned to C my reservations, my distance from the pregnancy, I mentioned how, whenever I work on the nursery I feel like it's just another home-improvement project, I don't identify with having a baby in my life. "That's horrible!" She said. "I know. I don't pretend it's not." I said. "I'm just being honest." C thinks I worry too much. As does everyone else in my life. And maybe I do. Maybe this is something I should have forgotten about that day at the OBG's office when I heard about the CPC. Maybe I should have dismissed it before I got to my car and went on assuming everything is fine. I screened negative after all. No problems here. Maybe that's what normal people would do.