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Archive for the ‘Third Trimester’ Category

We’re into week 35, HELL YES!

But: where the hell have we been over the past few weeks?

As the sperm donor and seemingly-single dad now that Julie is on complete bedrest, I’ve been carting the son to daycare daily, mama up north to our once weekly high risk OB appointments, twice a week biophysical profile appointments and once a week OB group appointments, and myself to work. Ever since last week began we’re treating my days at work as limited before the twins arrive, and I’ve been in overdrive trying to leave the pharmacy without any voids in inventory or the things that only I can produce in the clean room before I take my short leave to welcome the twins into the world.

Besides driving and watching our kids on black and white ultrasound monitors, we’ve been keeping a close eye on Julie’s preeclampsia signs. She’s gone almost overboard with taking her blood pressure at home and her numbers are amazingly chill at the crib, but at the OB/High Risk OB’s she’s straight SHOOK, yo. So we can chock that up to white coat syndrome I guess. And yes, I have called her a pussy numerous times, which I’m sure should help, but whatevs yo. Whatevs.

During week 31 our High Risk doctor’s saw her high blood pressure as a sign of possible preeclampsia and ever then it’s been jugs of piss and blood tests, jugs of piss and blood tests. Do you know how much piss a broad preggo with twinnies has in her over 24 hours? She topped out at 4400ml. That’s over a frickin’ gallon for those not constantly referring to volume like I am. My wife will probably be pissed that I’m spilling the piss about that, but fuck her, she put her piss next to my OJ for three weeks, I can poke fun at her piss jugs all I want. (My couch is comfortable, I’m ok with the doghouse. ZING!)

So Christmas Eve we had an appointment and prior to it we were told to expect hospitalization and possibly spend Christmas at Delnor. Then we were able to spend Christmas at home. SCORE! The stress that tagged along with that possibility was gut wrenching.

So New Years Eve we had an appointment and prior to it we were told to expect hospitalization and possibly spend New Years at Delnor. Then we were able to spend New Years Eve and New Years Day at home. SCORE! The stress that tagged along with that wasn’t as bad because we took the potential of a Christmas holiday in Labor & Delivery and made it through ok. Besides, NYE is fucking amateur night, we haven’t gone out on NYE in 8 years. Also, Julie is lugging mad babies in her bellbell yo, how much fun could she really be out on NYE?

It seemed every week we’re operating on the basis that we might be having babies at some point throughout the seven day period. Yet here we are about to hit 35 weeks and we’re without twins. Is this fucking great and titstactular? Fuck yes it is!

But is it stressful as hell to constantly watch your wife say goodbye to our son as if she won’t see him again for a few days? Is it stressful to constantly have her luggage by the garage door, along with constantly packing up the everyday items she uses to make herself pretty (she doesn’t need that shit anyway)? Is it stressful to make plans with 4 different potential overnight sitters for our son and then constantly have to cancel because the vagina isn’t ready?

In addition to all the other little shit that tags along with an impending sense of doom, dread and hospitalization including not sleeping, not sleeping and not sleeping – the answer is: fuck yes, that shit’s fucking stressful as fuck.

Yet, it is all completely acceptable and welcome at this point since we’re passing milestones every passing day the twins continue to cook.

What do I mean?

Well the doctor’s recommended steroid shots for Julie’s supple rear end,(which I’ve named Julius: Julie-Ass, get it?) so the twins got a preemptive dose of lung developing assistance. Now they’ve had more than two weeks with which to build on top of that.

Three weeks ago we were looking at roughly 4lb babies all up in her vajay. Last week each twin was roughly 5lbs 12oz. So at this point they have both surpassed most of my neices and nephews as far as birth weight.

If I’m speaking for myself, from talking with our twitter friends and friends with twins, I think we’re in the clear to have two huge fucking babies kick some serious ass as soon as they hit the ground running. I can’t wait. Yet of course, Julie is fine with a few more weeks of discomfort if it allows our twins more time to perfect their gangsta lean, poker face and/or running man.

So this past Thursday, with a stern concerned look from our high risk OB doctor fresh in our brains, we were expecting another blood test to show a lower platelet and suspicious uric acid levels, which would tell him that it’s time to deliver the twins. The blood test showed a stagnant platelet count, holding still at 103-105 and an improved uric acid level. Can you say balls! BALLS!

What did this earn us? ANOTHER WEEK! YES!

Our OB group doctor recommended we at least schedule a C-Section for 36 weeks or so just to have something on the books. Our twins haven’t been both head down this entire pregnancy, so we were ok with at least taking the precaution.

THEN, Friday we go see our high risk OB doctors and they thought scheduling a C-Section at this point was potentially premature and might not be needed since the numbers are holding steady and Julie LOOKS fine! HE thought that 37 or 38 weeks WASN’T OUT OF THE RANGE OF POSSIBILITY!

Can you say BALLS?! BALLS!

There was a magical weight lifted from our shoulders this past weekend, and we were all riding a little easier. We needed the relief worse than eating White Castle and highway driving and then realizing you have to pull over and perform the green apple quick steps at a public restroom.

That is some serious fucking relief.

Until our next visit Tuesday.

DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNN

We is down to the wire yo.

fa show.

Last week had the potential to be a really shitty week. A really shitty Christmas week.

Julie’s 24hr urine test showed a “higher than the doctor expected” amount of protein (526mg) in her urine and after a few more higher than normal blood pressure readings at our respective doctor’s offices our High Risk OB group was a ginger’s pubic hair away from admitting Julie into the hospital with preeclampsia. She would stay in the hospital until our family increases from 3 to 5.

We’ve gone through tears and crying about the thought of her actually missing Christmas morning with our son.

We’ve run over the logistics of having a wife in the hospital 50 minutes away where our son isn’t welcome because of the bullshit swine flu. Also factoring in that he’s doing really really well in his new bed.

We’ve realized that there is nothing more painful than not being able to see your kid.

We understand the need for hospitalization,  but we also understand that 32 weeks isn’t our perfect scenario to meet our children for the first time.

We wanted to avoid it until it was absolutely necessary.

So we took some precautions with Dr. Losure’s help at High Risk OB at Delnor Hospital.

Julie has been taking her blood pressure readings at home with a recommended wrist cuff (we got it at walgreens for about 40 bucks). She has been given the list of symptoms of preeclampsia to watch out for and has taken it down from about a 5 on scale of 1-10, to about a 2.

Meaning I allow her to wipe her own ass and feed herself.

On Christmas Eve we met with our other doctor group and our doctor there was happy with the bp readings Julie has been having, as well as the lack of any significant protein in her urine using the chincy little dipsticks they use.

He understood the strain a Christmas in the hospital would put on Julie if it wasn’t completely needed, so he scheduled another 24hr urine collection/blood test, and tomorrow we will find out the results of those tests.

We’re hoping we can add a few more weeks to our little baby farm up in Julie’s magic vag of enlightenment.

We will find out tomorrow. Until then…

Last Thursday we had a pair of doctor appointments, one at the OB group and one at High Risk OB @ Delnor Hospital.

Because of our previous visit to the OB group and their complete lack of being prepared, having read Julie’s file, and not knowing their own practice’s practices – we were prepping for a battle of words and belly bumps. Unfortunately for Julie, all of that worrying got her blood pressure up over her normal range and the MA informing her of it increased it even more.

Throughout this entire pregnancy Julie’s blood pressure has been hovering right around 120/80. Every visit was within a few points of the previous visit’s and even though we’ve had a few scares, those have always occurred after the bp reading was taken.

So when Julie was told she was 140/92 or around there for three different readings, two on the exam table and one sitting up straight in a visitor’s chair, the doctor wanted us to keep an eye on it mainly because it had never been an issue before and since we’re high risk, having twins and it’s getting towards crunch time.

What are we keeping an eye on exactly? Two things. If we were looking up a mountain we would first see Hypertension and then Preeclampsia. Thankfully Julie is showing no signs of having either besides the one episode of the high blood pressure. She doesn’t have puffy hands of feet, or “the look” of having anything similar to preeclampsia, says the High Risk doctor, but to be on the safe side he ordered her to collect her urine for 24 hours and then when she drops of her lovely pee, she gets to have some blood drawn.

Julie’s mom, Patti, is an MA herself so over the weekend she took Julies blood pressure a few more times to be sure she wasn’t actually consistent at 140/90 or anything close to that. Every reading had Julie down to where she normally is, if not lower. But regardless of our own findings, we trusted that we should follow through on the pissfest.

So our pissfest started yesterday morning. They gave her a jug of about 3/4 gallon and a handy dandy collection funnel, which is just the most seasonal and festive piss cup/pouring device I’ve ever seen. AND I’VE SEEN ALOT OF PISS COLLECTORS IN MY DAY, OH BOY.

She was instructed to toss out her first morning wee and then collect from there on out until the first morning wee of the next day, which was this morning.

Of course, in our lives, nothing comes without humor.
Keeping the funnel/hat away from our inquisitive son wasn’t the funniest part.
Storing the piss jug next to the orange juice in the fridge wasn’t the funniest part.
Watching Julie retrieve her piss jug every few minutes and the look on her face as she walked past us towards the bathroom (or as the label I put on the door says: SPECIMEN COLLECTION) wasn’t the funniest part.

No, no, no: the funniest part of the whole piss collection story is that Julie ran out of room.

Yes, Julie has a huge orange piss jug full of piss and two tiny tupperware containers full of preggopiss.

Today when she picks me up for our doctor appointment and her blood test, I’m going to make the piss jugs sit shotgun while I sit in back plugging my nose.

I love my wife, but I love laughing at her too. Every time I fall on my ass on the ice, or hit my head on a cabinet or crib, or slip on her panties lying all over the place, she laughs until she cries – well I will carry on the humor of this piss-sperience until she hits me really really hard, or the babies are born. I’m just that kind of guy.

As you can probably tell, I am not worried in the slightest that there is any noticeable protein build up in her tinkle. I believe our doctors are just being as cautious as they should be in a situation such as ours. I have a serious case of the positive thinkings going on and it wouldn’t be beneficial to Julie or the twins if I was to be a worry-wart and hounding over her pee like a koi-pond enthusiast hovering over his koi-pond, if his koi-pond were in fact nearly a gallon of bright yellow piss, in a jug, in my fridge, right next to the oj, right above my assortment of yogurts, cheap cheeses and fruit du jour.

If I know my wife’s piss, and I think I do, that jug has approximately 8 hours left before the acids in her wee wee tinkles eat through that plastic like hydrochloric acid on a cheap pair of rubber gloves.

I better get home and fortify the piss jug.

toodles.

Related articles by Zemanta

• Hypertension Paradox and Treatments Reviewed in NEJM (casesblog.blogspot.com)
• Cause Of Heartburn (slideshare.net)
• Hypertensive Dyslipidaemics (slideshare.net)
• Mommy Blogging: 28 Weeks & 2 GTT Tests (iamlove.blogspot.com)
• Study Finds Link between Preeclampsia and Reduced Thyroid Function (nih.gov)
• What Is Normal Blood Pressure Range? Blood Pressure Chart (healthhype.com)

I think we’ve spent our last dollar on the twins’ room and our son’s new room (which he has done nothing but play in so far). A combination of family & friends giving us their no-longer-needed furniture, receiving as gifts, buying new and rearranging over the course of six months was all it took.

The largest purchases/decisions were actually the easiest, with the minivan only taking six hours of my life and the crib just being a duplicate that Julie spent 77 hours deciding on while I walked angrily around Rabies R Us. The smaller items and the labor involved in the rearrangements took the most time and energy by far. If I had to break it down by what I loathed the most, I would probably gripe in this order:

5. Dismantling my home studio and scattering its instruments and equipment all over my basement.

4. Rearranging our spare bedroom for my guitar lessons by re-scattering alot of the equipment I wanted out of the basement into the basement.

3. Reconfiguring the garage to fit the mini-van and my truck, which did not work any way I managed to organize it. So my truck is now out in the cold, permanently.

2. Painting my son’s new room.

1. Painting my son’s new room.

Yeah, if there’s one thing I hate, it’s fucking painting. I tape the trim and the ceiling and put down tarps and every fucking time I get paint on the ceiling, paint on the trim and fucking paint on the carpet.

I have no problem with hanging blinds or assembling cribs, those always seem to find a way towards a successful completion, but you give me a completely empty room and a wife griping over my shoulder and I will – every fucking time – screw up a paint job royally.

The only thing we have left to do is pack the bags for the hospital stay and the overnight bag for wherever my little guy is staying, since our hospital will not allow anyone under 18 into Labor & Delivery because people over 18 do not carry ze Schvine Flu.

Oh, and install the bases for the two carseats.

Bet you 5 bucks the minute I hit “publish” my wife will come up with 94 other things for me to do. *Cringing as I hit “publish”…

I called Julie an attic last night.

She put a leg off the couch and heard each knee creak, both hip sockets give a loud pop and the sharp intake of air made her sound like a rickety attic from my childhood. Except rather than being a receptacle of memories and the occasional pot plant, this attic was my wife who is severely pregnant with twins.

While I was doing her bidding during her lovely nesting phase last weekend, we discovered the winning piece of “guess Julie’s girth!” yarn from her baby shower with our first son. Just a few days off of exactly two years prior and 8 weeks earlier in the pregnancy, Julie is a good 7 inches rounder with this twin pregnancy. So she’s pullin’ more weight, rounder than Santa, and miserable when trying to move, think about moving or complaining about the lack of being able to move.

The area she is now pretty specific in body pain is near the pelvis. Her exact words were “It feels like my pelvis is broken.”

Does this sound familiar to anyone else who’s experienced a twin pregnancy? Is she supposed to feel wishy washy around the hips and in between?

I offered to have a look, but all I saw was the ghost of Christmas past pullin’ a four footer sitting on a magic mushroom, that was immediately after she belted me with her hit stick.

Yes, she keeps a hit stick near her at all times now. It keeps our son about 2 feet away from dropkicking her belly, allows her the ability to accentuate syllables in her orders at me and she can move things closer to her when i politely set them 2.5 feet away on the table. I’ve also seen her itch things with it.

One day I will sell a hit stick and call it “The Twin Pregnancy Multitool.”

We’re hoping to hit February 2nd, 2010 before we have the twins. Let’s hope her body cooperates.

I wouldn’t want to punish her for not following MY orders, since I’ve done every damn thing she’s asked of me since she got all “crazy with babies in her bell.”

I KID! She’s not crazy.

She’s certifiably insane in the membrane. If the membrane was her vajayjay.