Sleepy Scene

Scene:  interior - messy adult bedroom - 10:30 p.m.

Parents are  watching television. Toddler bumps sleepily into their room with wild, sleep-tossed hair. She stops on her mama's side of the bed. Daddy freezes in the manner of a bunny trying to go unnoticed by a predator - perhaps he is even caught with a potato chip halfway to his mouth.

Lily Ruth: Hi, Mama. Can you open this for me?

Toddler thrusts a closed sippy-cup toward her mother with surprising speed and force. Mother bumblingly catches it.

Mama: Sure, Boo. Is everything o.k.?

Mother opens the cup lid and hands it back to the toddler.

LR: Sure. Yeah.

Toddler spins 180 degrees on a wobbly axis and returns to her room. Parents stare at each other in quiet shock and awe. Daddy resumes potato chip consumption.

Mama: Did she really just leave? Is she going back to bed - her bed - all on her own?

Daddy: Um, maybe...

Parents wait 10 - 20 minutes before creeping in to check on toddler. Child is deeply asleep in her own bed with arms flung wide and legs akimbo. Parents stare at each other in utter confusion - this has never happened before - are they truly free to carry on with their evening? Only time will tell...

A Wonderful Vacation

I never made time to tell you about our vacation! Sorry - stuff got a little wild there for a while...

We Doyles made our way to Florida to meet up with the British contingency in order to celebrate Kittyn's 40th birthday. What with my diseased gallbladder, Kittyn's deteriorating back condition and BOTH of us being in our first trimester at the time (:-0), it wasn't your typical Florida vacation. It was WONDERFUL, though.

The weather was colder than we had originally anticipated. Sandy had blown past Florida a day or so before, and was on her way to decimate the Northern states. In her wake, she left very little damage to Florida, but the temperatures were much lower than the seasonal norm. Kittyn and I had specifically planned lots of sunny beach loll-ing time, and we did not get it.

What we did get, was lots of other cool stuff.

A visit to a real swamp with real alligators who were standing RIGHT NEAR US. Now, despite the slightly cheese website and terrifyingly sulfurous entry, this ended up being an incredible day with a great guide at Jungle Adventures Nature Park.

A very cold gator - too cold to move!

So very, very close to the fence :-O

An encounter with giraffes who were, quite frankly, cracker whores at the Brevard County Zoo.

Matt and his new... um... girlfriend?

GIMME THE CRACKER, MAN! 

An unexpectedly fun Halloween spent at the mall (??!!) and at "home".

A bit overwhelmed by her candy haul and all of the costumes.

A Zombie, Pirate, Skeleton Ballerina  and Peter Pan scoop out the pumpkin

 A fun day at Disneyworld complete with princesses and stolen moments.

Wuv... Twu wuv...

She's so happy, but so nervous! The face is PRICELESS!

A great day at beautiful Cocoa Beach. Even in November, just days after a big storm, it was still warm enough to frolic on the sand and in the water. A good thing, because it ended up being our only beach day.

Turning Maddie  into a mermaid on Cocoa Beach

A Lily Ruth Mermaid

A wonderful birthday dinner for Robyn.

They just had to squeeze into the picture!

 

Another unexpectedly neat adventure on a boat tour... another day that we were afraid was going to be cheesy and ended up being awesome. I would show you dolphins and manatees, but we were too busy watching them to get any pictures!

And last but not least - a day at Sea World. My favorite bit... because of this:

That's right, people - I WAS PETTING DOLPHINS. Now, I know that this is not earth-shattering. In fact, I've done it before - we have a Sea World here in town for heaven's sake. But it never gets old. Marine mammals hold a special place in my heart :-)

I could bore - I mean bomb you with more pictures of our adventures, but I have grown weary of uploading. If you want to see more, you'll have to come over to my house... Alright, alright! Stop begging already! You're embarrassing yourself! :-P Here are 3... o.k. 4... more that I found on Don's phone :-)

He likes this one too :-)

I absolutely cannot resist a "kid squatting to play in the sand" picture 

There are 4 children and 2 adults in this picture ;-)

Tired but so happy :-)

Garden on Hold

Poor garden. I had the best intentions, really I did. In August, I drew up my plan:

Don and I went out and cleared then prepared the beds. I bought seeds. I planted...

... and then I got sick. Poor garden. It never stood a chance. By the time we left for vacation at the end of October, the pumpkin vines had taken over the bed meant to nourish purple bell peppers and rainbow quinoa. Weeds and hungry bugs were choking out and devouring beet shoots, Brussels sprout stalks and protective broccoli leaves. The less said about the spinach and edamame, the better. I closed the shutters and stopped opening that gate.

It's current state is a true testament to the tenacity and grace of nature. Two pepper plants sun themselves (fruitlessly).

 Chewed upon but hopeful beet leaves preen. Rows of optimistic Brussels sprouts and broccoli march through the neglect.

 A red quinoa stalk stands defiant and alone.

Lily Ruth has announced that she "will NOT give up on the garden." Well, neither will I.

I am ridiculously overly optimistic about my plan for Spring planting. Wanna see it? O.k.:

First, we address the pots. The Plumeria is currently wintering just inside the back door. It is leaf-less, but alive. We (Don) remembered to bring it in before we killed yet another helpless Plumeria by freezing. His dad grows them for us. The ones that he keeps are HUGE and have been flowering for years. We have yet to keep one alive long enough to see a flower. *sigh* The current Basil crop is d-e-a-d. I will replant. Not so much with the fancy Basil this year - I wasn't crazy about cooking with cinnamon and lemon Basil. The third pot is self-explanatory. Lily Ruth likes mud.

Bed "A" will once again play host to the champion food producer of last year - OKRA! I will plant a few more of them to create some shade for my Baby Mescalun Lettuces. Those poor dears got too hot and stopped producing way before I was done enjoying them. I haven't decided what kind of flowers to plant on the other side. Maybe just Marigolds again - but those guys try to take over... hmmmmm...

Bed "B" will be strictly Edamame. That stuff is so tasty that it's ridiculous. I think that I'll divide the bed into thirds and do successive planting so that our harvests are staggered better.

Bed "C' will be a bean tee-pee again this year, but I want to try Red Runner Beans instead... I think... but the Purple Pole Beans were sooooooooooo tasty! We'll see.

Bed "D" is going to be a lesson in Native American agriculture. A Three Sisters garden:

Source: wordplayhouse.com via Rachel on Pinterest

I absolutely cannot wait!

Now all I have to do is rip out my poor survivors... and mulch the soil or maybe put down a layer of hay to discourage any more weeds... and then wait another month or so before I start planting... *sigh* These 80 degree days in January are KILLING me! Plus, I'm not getting any smaller girth-wise over here!

Waiting to plant means it's going to be harder to squat. Harder to reach anything. Harder to drag myself out there to weed and water. Oh, and the family jokes about me giving birth between the beds have begun. My darling husband thinks that I am delusional for even considering planting this year. My beautiful mother is behind me 100%... but is probably only there so she can catch the baby before he lands in the Edamame... Whatever. I'm totally doing this. Wanna come over and help me?

Mothering by Feel

Lily Ruth has not been well this week. This does not mean that she has been sick. Rather, she suffers from a vague malaise. She's tired and out of sorts. Gently congested and coughing intermittently. She has been requesting "pajamas, stories, brush teeth then rock" around 7 or 7:30 every night. 

She lists around the house complaining about everything and picking fights with anyone who will listen. Her usual spark of determination is being used to light pathetic tantrums full of crocodile tears and slammed doors. Honestly, I thought we had a bit more time before the pre-teen years. I guess I was misinformed.

It doesn't help that all of her friends seem to be experiencing the same phase. Sinus crud is par for the course around these parts in January, and most of her close friends are very close to her age, so the typical 3 1/2 year old breakthrough combined with an extra lack of energy is knocking them out left and right. Playdates  are tentative and nothing is set in stone until a friend actually walks through the door. Cancellations and rescheduling are the order of the day. Much energy is spent redirecting disappointment into something else. 

Yesterday, Lily Ruth was in her carseat bemoaning her lack of a plan for something fun to do. She interrupted herself with a hacking cough fit. When she finished, I asked if she was all right, and if she needed a sip of water. She turned down the water, and with perfect three year old logic, she threw aside her friend woes and said "See, Mama - I told you I don't feel good. This is why I can't go to school." But it wasn't a school day. School had not been mentioned. Less than 2 minutes before, her world was practically a wasteland. Barren and completely devoid of companionship or fun. All of which is obviously my fault. Now, she's practically consumptive and in need of a fainting couch and a restorative cordial STAT.

*sigh*

After another early night for Lily Ruth, Her daddy and I tucked ourselves in for some grownup t.v. and some quiet time. Don fell asleep long before I did. This is not a surprise. He wakes up incredibly early in the morning in order to be home in time to play with his daughter and share dinner as a family. I settled in with my kindle fire to read and unwind on my own. 

Lily Ruth padded in somewhere close to midnight. I love to watch her do this. She pauses at our doorway, and assesses the dog's position. Then she carefully navigates around Keely and says "hi, Mommy" as she reaches for my hand and crawls up and over me. Last night, she paused and added "I need my agua." Some nights, I send her back for her cup and her blanket on her own. Last night, I told her that I would get it. When I returned, she was snuggled in next to her daddy, with her head on my pillows. I handed over her water ("Gan-you, Mama.") and began the process of settling my old body and my baby belly into the bed. These days, it's a bit of a production. 

I was barely settled when she started another coughing fit. When it ended, she fell asleep immediately - thumb hanging crookedly from the corner of her mouth. Nose completely clogged by congestion. Stale breath blowing directly onto my face. I wanted so much to be asleep. Instead, I began another ritual. One that I do any time that Lily Ruth is unwell and asleep. I don't even know really how to describe it, but I am so compelled to do it, that it feels hardwired. I just start checking her out. One kiss on the forehead becomes a routine of pressing my face to hers. Lips to forehead. Cheek to cheek. Forehead to chin. My hands press softly to her back then her chest and belly. I move her feet so that they press onto my thigh. All checking for what? Temperature differences, sweat, bumps? I don't even know. But it's instinctive. All I know is that if I don't do it, I'll just wake up in a few minutes and have to do it then. It makes me feel like a true mammal. I can't help but wonder if I'm not meant to snuffle into her hair for pheromones and lick her once or twice as well... I don't do those things, but if I thought they'd help, I would... Instead, I move her face farther from mine, tuck her water cup into the crook of her arm, and join the rest of my pack in sleep. Sweet, dream-filled, open-mouthed-snoring sleep.

A tired Lily Ruth "rests" with Sam

 

Recovering from Gallbladder Surgery

O.k. - so here I am. Seven weeks out from my surgery and finally sitting down to write about my recovery. Once again, this is not a fun crafting, recipe or Lily Ruth post (although I WILL get back to those soon - promise.). This should be the last time I post about my gallbladder and subsequent lack thereof. I just want to put more information out there for folks who are looking for it.

Day 1: The day after surgery, I woke up feeling great. I made myself a smoothie from a blend that I had pre-made and frozen (very green and yummy) mixed with some yogurt. I drank it slowly and made a few phone calls. I had grand plans to have my grandmother take me out for lunch (she was my support person for the day), then I would pick up my pain prescription then maybe lounge about. I took a (very careful) bath. I got myself dressed and coiffed. Then I tanked. I called my grandmother and asked her to pick up my prescription. Then I hung up, stripped down and crawled into bed. My intestinal tract spent about ten minutes protesting the re-introduction of food after over 24 hours with only a very small amount of water. I situated myself in bed with a nest of pillow support and a hot pack. My entire belly ached. My wound track (navel to gallbladder internally) hurt. My right shoulder HURT (remember the referred pain that I talked about before?).

To back up for a second, back when I was a full time massage therapist, I experienced occupational pain on a daily basis. My right shoulder, arm and hand were miserable. I loved what I did, but I was existing on 4 Advil 3 times a day just to keep working. I obviously stopped the Advil when I became pregnant with Lily Ruth, but the only thing that stopped the pain was not working as a massage therapist full time. The pain that I experienced post-surgery was that same, agonizing, constant burn.

My grandmother brought my pain pills, and made potato soup for me. The soup went over very well with the remaining internal organs. I fell asleep hard for most of the afternoon.

My parents came over for dinner. I managed a small-ish, but normal portion of chicken casserole and steamed veggies. This also went over well with the digestive set. That made for my first two pain free meals in WEEKS, people.

Pain management: I took 1 Hydrocodone (I think it was 325 mg acetaminophen / 5 mg hydrocodone) every 4 hours. The prescribed maximum dose was 2 pills every 6 hours.

Day 2: I woke up in a lot of pain. I called my mama at work immediately, and when she asked me how I was doing, I snapped "I feel like someone yanked my gallbladder out through my belly button." I'm a delight.

She came over almost immediately - because she loves me, not because I am so charming - and brought me a rice-filled sock. If you are not familiar with the rice sock, you are missing out. All you need is a (clean) knee sock and a bag of rice, barley, flax seed, etc. Dump the grain into the sock then either tie the open end in a knot or sew it closed. I prefer to sew because then there is no knot to fiddle with, and you can stuff more rice into the sock. Once it is securely closed, you can heat it in the microwave - no more than 2 minutes at a time!!! - and apply it where you hurt. I used mine at the base of my ribs and under my pregnant belly. I also used it under my belly when I wanted to lie on my side. When you have been inflated with carbon dioxide then deflated and glued shut, you feel a bit 'sloshy' for a few days. Not unlike the sloshy feeling just after you give birth before stuff remembers where it belonged before it took up residence in your rib cage. In any case, I could not have rested on my side without support under my belly.

After she warmed me up and made soup for me (a family specialty ;-)), I felt enough better to sleep the afternoon away. Meals went fine all day.

Pain Management: 1 Hydrocodone every 4 hours.

Day 3: Overnight, I began to develop a reaction to Hydrocodone. Not surprising since I am allergic to Codeine. I began to itch. Not like a mosquito bite, but in a 'I may rip all of the skin off my legs' kind of way. I finally woke up enough to realize what was happening around 3 or 4 a.m. I almost started crying. I called my surgeon's office when they opened. They were sympathetic, but because I am pregnant and allergic to Codeine, there's nothing else that they could give me. I had to stop taking Hydrocodone, and tough it out with Tylenol.

I was up and around a little. Still sloshy, so moving slow. I made my own rice sock. Lily Ruth came home from her grandparent's house. I made Lily Ruth her own rice sock. She confiscated Nanny's rice sock and carried her two 'Snakeys' around non-stop.

Oh, and I conned a friend into bringing me coffee!!!!!! Well, she brought herself, her daughter and coffee. My first real clothing (no pajamas), sitting upright on the sofa visit! It was great. The coffee didn't hurt a bit!

Pain management: 500 mg Tylenol every 5 hours. Zofran for nausea.

Day 4: With Lily Ruth home, my morning was a bit busier, but her daddy took her to Parent's Day Out, and I rested most of the day.

Pain management: Tylenol, Zofran for nausea.

Day 5-6: Things were better each day. I was still moving slowly, but I was moving. Lots of resting, but I was still able to interact with my family.

o.k., so I mentioned that my navel had been filled with glue following my procedure. Well, it started to come loose over the weekend. It was awful. The glue had held everything in that general area very still. as it started to loosen, I was very nauseated and slightly alarmed. I knew intellectually that there was nothing going wrong, but it was a highly unpleasant sensation. I had a very strong urge to grab a tube of Crazy Glue and re-fill my navel. I did not give in to said urge.

Pain management: Tylenol, Zofran for nausea.

Day 7: I managed a short trip to the zoo with Lily Ruth in the morning, and had a quiet afternoon resting and playing around the house.

Day 8: I took Lily Ruth to meet some friends in the park during the morning. I waaaaaaay overdid it on the walking, and had to put my feet up for the rest of the day. I also accidentally slept for 2 hours in the afternoon. I swear - Lily Ruth is a SAINT. She only slept for part of that time. The rest of it was spent playing quietly next to me on my bed. I was in and out of awareness. Each time that I surfaced, the pile of toys on and around my body had grown.

I managed to cook my contributions to our upcoming Thanksgiving celebration during the evening without over-doing it.

Day 9: We drove to Houston (4+ hours) to spend Thanksgiving with Don's family. I could feel a knot of swelling just above my navel, and my entire wound track was very uncomfortable. It was a lousy drive :-( but worth it to see family.

Day 10: Thanksgiving Day - I could very clearly feel the surgical path from my navel to where my gallbladder used to reside. I had a lot of pain under my ribs (diaphragm?) and in my back. Luckily, I have an awesome extended family, so Lily Ruth was entertained by aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents in addition to daddy. She swam and sang karaoke for hours while I napped. I was able to eat and enjoy each and every part of the Thanksgiving feast, though!

Day 11: We drove home. This was a much better drive. I don't know if I was just better rested, or if 2 additional days of healing made that much difference, but it was definitely better :-) I could still feel a lump of either swelling or scar tissue (golf ball sized) just above my navel. It worried me.

Day 12: For whatever reason, I was irritated and nauseated all day, but I could still tell that things were improving.

Day 14 and 15: I still didn't fell 100% myself. I was upset that I could still feel a lump above my belly button, and I became fixated on my scar. I spent a lot of time worried that when my belly button 'popped' that there would be a thick, ropy, ugly, visible scar. I was frustrated that I had made it to the 2 week mark and still didn't feel completely healed.

Day 16: A BIG day. I had my anatomy scan scheduled, a visit with the midwives to review the results AND my post-surgical follow up visit with the surgeon. As you could have predicted, I was running behind, so I raced through my morning ablutions - including wound care) and ran out the door. During my visit with my surgeon, I started to whine about my lump / ugly scar worries. He took a look and said 'what are you talking about?! That is a beautiful incision!' I felt around on it (for the first time that day), and he was right! It had changed totally. The lump was gone, and the scar was thin and faint. I apologized for deriding his good work. He accepted and released me into the wild with no further recommendations  My only follow up from here is to bring the baby boy by for viewing when he's ready :-)

This was my first day of feeling really good in a very long time. Part of it was (I'm sure) the abundance of great news, but I was on the go from 9 a.m. until after 4:30 p.m., and I was fine. No bone-crushing exhaustion. No debilitating or worrying pain.

Luckily, that trend has continued. Aside from normal pregnancy (tiredness and weird stretching) stuff, I feel great. I eat without fear. I don't take medication of any kind on a regular basis.

I truly believe that I made the right choice for me - even though it was really scary - in having the surgery while pregnant. I am healthy. My baby is healthy. I am fully able to take care of my family (something that I was losing the ability to do because I had to spend so much time and energy on pain).

So that's what I have to say about that.

Why I Had Surgery While 17 Weeks Pregnant

After I finished my post about my gallbladder surgery, I realized that I keep talking about the risks, but I hadn't painted a clear picture from diagnosis to the decision to have surgery. So here it is:

Jan / Feb 2012: I had some occasional pain right under my ribcage on my right side. It felt like baby toes hooking up under my ribs, but I was not pregnant. My mother (who had her gallbladder out when I was a pre-teen - and almost DIED because she let it get out of hand before seeking treatment) told me that it was my gallbladder, and told me to get it looked at - immediately. I didn't blow her off... exactly... I knew that she was probably right. I just didn't want to go to the doctor.

March 2012: During my annual exam, I mentioned my occasional pain to the midwife. She told me that it was probably my gallbladder. She told me to have it looked at immediately. I didn't ignore her... it just stopped hurting... and I forgot :-/

09/04/12: Knowing that I was 7 weeks pregnant (and I had already felt a bit of ligament loosening), I chose to pick up my cranky daughter and carry her on my back as we were leaving the Botanical Gardens. I was hoping to ward off the impending temper tantrum. It worked, but I felt an ominous twinge or two in my back.

09/05 and 09/06: I thought that I was having a really bad muscle spasm in my back, but everything that I tried to relieve it either had no effect, or made it worse (!?!?!?). I went to bed Thursday night in a lot of pain. I knew that I would most likely spend a good chunk of Friday at the minor emergency clinic.

09/07/12: By the time that I got Miss Lily Ruth dressed in the car for school, I was almost in a panic. I couldn't take a deep breath in, and I became convinced that I had herniated or otherwise compromised my diaphragm. My intercostal muscles were in constant spasm.

Somewhere between our house and the church, the pain began to ball up under my ribcage on the right side, and I remembered the gallbladder warnings.

Immediately after dropping her off, I signed myself in at the clinic.

By the time the doctor came in, what I called my 'All Day Nausea' had kicked in, and I was taking weird, shallow breaths because of the pain. He very sweetly told me that I looked awful. I laughingly acknowledged my misery and gave him a rundown: possible back spasm, diaphragm weirdness, gallbaldder? oh, and the nausea - but I had that almost all day pretty much every day.

He decided to address the nausea first. One Zofran and 10 minutes later, and I felt like a new person. A person who was in a lot of pain, but who could function.

I was sent off with A) prescriptions for 1) Zofran for nausea 2) Hydrocodone for pain 3) An antibiotic in case I had a bladder / kidney infection (only a minor possibility) and 4) Flexoril (a skeletal muscle relaxer) in case it was just a muscle spasm AND B) an appointment for an ultrasound of my gallbladder in a few hours. I had to wait a few hours without eating so that my gallbladder wouldn't be 'active' during the scan.

The ultrasound revealed a 3 cm stone and sludge in my gallbladder, but no current inflammation or thickening of the gallbladder walls. A mixed bag. The doctor put me on a clear liquid diet through the weekend, and recommended that I contact my midwife group for a surgical referral immediately. I thanked him politely for the advice, and hung up thinking - 'Not on your life, buddy. I worked hard for this baby! No way I'm gonna risk losing it during surgery.'

I eventually called the midwives. They recommended a surgeon, and told me to set an appointment. Not because they wanted me to have surgery, but they pointed out that if surgery became unavoidable, it would be better to have a consult in place, and to know what my options were.

I became aware of having a small to moderate amount of pain after almost every meal.

10/08/12: 12 weeks pregnant. I had my surgical consult. I went in with a list of questions and a mental list of reasons why I was NOT going to have surgery. The surgeon put me at ease immediately. I felt confident in him right off the bat. He told me that he was willing to give me a few weeks to let it ride and let the baby grow stronger, but given my current level of pain, and the images of my gallbladder, he did not believe that I would make it to the end of my pregnancy without surgery. He very gently explained that this probably meant surgery before the end of the year because this procedure is least dangerous to the fetus during the second trimester. It is also less dangerous to both mother and fetus before the uterus reaches the height of the navel (20 weeks). After that, it can no longer be performed laparoscopically, and a full incision is inherently more dangerous.

We talked about how I would know if I needed to call him. He said that if my pain level did not decrease or if it got ANY worse, I would need the surgery. I asked if I could try yoga, exercise, acupuncture .. he said that I was welcome to try any or all of it - he hoped that it would bring me some relief.

He told me to stay on a no fat / low fat diet (less than 5g of fat per day :-O). He also told me to stop taking the Flexoril (I had only taken one or two total) since my condition was not skeletal. Instead, he prescribed Bentyl - a smooth muscle relaxer - to help keep the gallbladder from contracting so forcefully.

10/29/12: 15 weeks pregnant. We head out on vacation. By now, I was taking at least 1 Zofran per day, 2-3 Bentyl per day, and a Hydrocodone every 3 days or so. While I was still well below the prescribed limits for each medication, I was not comfortable  Over our vacation, it became apparent that I was getting worse. Despite the awesome vacation, I was in daily, almost constant pain. I scheduled a pre-operative consultation for 2 days after we returned.

By the time I went in for my second consult, I had an almost Pavlovian, negative reaction to eating. Knowing that pain would follow any meal (no matter how fat free) caused a physical wave of dread to wash over me. I found myself avoiding meals for as long as I could - not good. I also knew that I could not healthily support a pregnancy with the stress of this much pain.

The rest is history, or rather, has already been talked about in other posts.

So there you have it. Not in a nutshell, but in a loooong, drawn out manner: Why I Had My Gallbladder Removed When I was 17 Weeks Pregnant by Rachel. I hope that this helps someone who is struggling with either gallbladder pain, or the decision to have surgery.

It's a BOY!

Last week was very eventful :-)

On Wednesday, I had my anatomy scan. For those not up on their pregnancy-speak, somewhere around 18 - 22 weeks of gestation, most mothers-to-be undergo an anatomy ultrasound. The technician takes a lot of skeletal measurements, checks the function and size of all of the major organ systems, and checks things like amniotic fluid level, placenta placement, umbilical cord function and cervical position. After all of that is done, they will also attempt to tell you the gender of the baby. I say attempt, because if the baby is not positioned favorably for a gender picture, or if they are feeling active and won't hold still, then you get a maybe guess or a 'come back another time'.

Our baby was feeling mellow and cooperative, so in addition to seeing a beautiful array of skeletal poetry and healthy organ function, we found out that our baby on the way is a boy.

Isn't he just precious ;-) If ultrasound photos are not your 'thing', this is a profile shot. Baby's head is on the left. The 'curlicue' on his forehead is actually the fingers of his right hand. Just above his tummy on the right side, you can see his knee and leg bones. He seemed pretty cramped in there, and I resolved to drink more water, but then I read that babies spend their time curled up like that until around 20 weeks. After that, they start to really stretch (as much as possible). I'm assuming that this has to do with skeletal and muscular development, but assuming is usually unwise... so I have some research to do... but I will also up my water intake!

I am not posting the gender shot. You'll just have to take my word for it.

Lily Ruth is thrilled. She is already referring to him as 'little brother' or 'baby brother' instead of just Baby Bean.

Don and I would have both been genuinely happy with either a boy or a girl, so instead of the gender reveal being emotionally charged either way, it was just something that was nice to know after they told us that he was healthy and developing right on schedule.

After the fun of watching the baby move in real time, Don and Lily Ruth headed out for school and work. I stayed for my post-surgical visit with the surgeon. Leading up to the appointment, I had a lot of anxiety about how slowly I felt the healing process was progressing, and how much scar tissue was massing. Even just two days before, I was really frustrated and quite worried. I STILL didn't feel like myself, and I could feel a 'ball' of swelling / scar tissue / muscle weirdness right above my poor, sore belly button. Honestly, it freaked me out.

My doctor heard me out, then palpated my navel and the surgical path. Then he adopted a fairly insulted tone and asked me exactly what I was worried about since that was obviously a beautiful incision that was healing remarkably well.

I had been in a bit of a rush that morning. I bathed, slapped some Neosporin in there and took off. At his request, I looked at it and did my own poking around. Much to my surprise, it was fine! No redness. No swelling. No lump under the skin. So I apologized, thanked him for the incredible non-scar, and promised to bring the baby in for a visit after he arrives.

You guys, I cannot tell you what an incredible feeling it was to see our beautiful, healthy baby and then be released by the surgeon with a clean bill of health. I felt like I was taking a deep breath for the first time in AGES. I felt like a boulder had been removed from my shoulders, and blinders had been taken from my eyes. I felt happy and peaceful for pretty much the first time during this pregnancy.

I finally feel like a can acknowledge this baby and work toward his healthy birth.

I even bought him something to sleep in once he gets here...


I LOVE sleep sacks!!!!!! I couldn't help myself. It's time to celebrate this baby, ya'll!

My Gallbladder Surgery by Rachel

One of my biggest frustrations leading up to surgery is that I could not find anyone to tell me what the surgery would be like or how my recovery would go. Me being me, I needed this information. While my surgeon described the procedure to me, that was just a few short days before undergoing it myself, and I still had no real grasp of what I could expect while recovering.

*** WARNING: I am going to discuss my surgery, my recovery, and gross stuff. This post is intended to be helpful, not funny or insightful or pithy. As a pregnant lady who was facing surgery, I wanted this information, and I was unable to find it. If you do not want this information in your head, DO NOT READ THIS POST.***

Here's (my recollection of) how the Robotic Assisted Laparoscopic Cholecystectomy was described to me (*my surgery was performed through ONE incision in my navel - some are done with more incisions*):

- you will be anesthetized
- an incision will be made in your navel
- your abdomen will be inflated with carbon dioxide
- the table you are lying on will be tilted until you are almost upright - this is done so that the majority of your organs press downward and are 'out of the way'
- instruments are inserted into the incision, and guided up to the gallbladder
- the gallbladder is removed, and surrounding ducts are checked for additional stones / blockages
- navel incision is glued closed
- et voila! surgery is complete
- 1 week out from surgery, most patients still have some pain, but are reporting improvement
- 2 weeks out from surgery, most patients have returned to a normal level of activity

This is a relatively short procedure. Barring complications, my surgeon estimates between 30 - 45 minutes for this surgery, but reserves the operating suite 2.5 hours just in case.

I was required to fast - no food, NO liquids, no fooling - for 12 hours prior to my procedure, so I woke up at 3 a.m. and had some soup and a TON of water. In the future, I will schedule all procedures requiring fasting for the MORNING so that I do not have to spend the day hungry and cranky.

I was asked to shower using Hibiclens (a hospital grade antibacterial wash) twice in preparation. After the second time, I couldn't use moisturizers, lotions, deodorants or perfumes... that was hard. I cheated and moisturized my face...

I arrived at the hospital at 1:30 for my 3:30 procedure. Admitting was quick, easy and friendly (THANK YOU, staff at St. Luke's Baptist!). As soon as the paperwork was done, admissions called surgery, and were told that they were waiting for me :-)

The hospital provided an incredible woman in an expensive looking sheath dress and low heels as the Family Liaison. She escorts all patients into the surgical holding area and personally settles them in. Then she keeps track of each patient and all of their family members for the entire time that the patient is in the care of the Surgical Unit. She escorts all family members in and out of the holding area (where pre-op & recovery take place) so that family spends as much time with the patient as possible. She was incredible. Organized, authoritative, knowledgeable and compassionate. She is worth her weight in gold.

I handed over my dignity in exchange for a hospital gown and some gray socks... o.k., fine. I got to keep my dignity, just not my underwear... Then the nurse took my vitals and asked aaaaaaaaaaaall of the usual questions. Since I am 17 weeks pregnant, a hand-held doppler was brought in to check Baby Bean's heart rate. It was (as expected) perfect.

Next was my I.V. Now people, I have a vasovagal response to needles. This means that I am probably going to pass out - it's just how my body reacts. I can be as calm as I want, but my body reacts poorly to the introduction of needles, and that's that. It's also worse when my blood sugar is low, so... I expected this to be hard. It was, in fact, the part I dreaded the most out of the whole day. Crazy, right? I almost panicked when she was looking at placing it so high - it went in my left arm right at my wrist, just below my thumb. I was positive that I would be able to feel it the whole time and would throw up then pass out. Well, a surgical catheter is a completely different animal than a regular I.V. First, the area is numbed with Lidocane prior to insertion, so that's awesome. Second, an 18 gauge flexible catheter is soooooo much more comfortable than any I.V. that I've ever experienced.

The next step is meeting with each member of your surgical team. In my case, this was my surgical nurse, my anesthesiologist, and my surgeon. Each explains (or re-explains even if you've heard it all before) their role in the procedure; including any risks involved.

I asked the surgical nurse to set my gallbladder aside before sending it to pathology so that I could see it. He wrote that down.

The anesthesiologist explained that the baby would not be monitored during the procedure. He wasn't being ugly, it was just some hard, simple truth. Fetal monitoring in this procedure is difficult at best due mostly to patient positioning. Also, at 17 weeks gestation, since the baby is not yet viable outside the womb, there is not anything that could be done for the baby should things go badly. His promise to me was that he would keep my blood pressure as even as possible with no wild spikes or dips that would put additional stress on the baby. He also explained that I would not receive a dose of Versed (ver-SAID). Usually, patients are given a dose before being wheeled into the operating theater. It makes you slightly drowsy. The nurses call it the Margarita Mix. It's given to reduce anxiety leading into a procedure. It is not given to pregnant ladies. Dammit.

My surgeon again outlined the risks (general anesthesia always carries a risk. Surgery during pregnancy always carries a risk of miscarriage), and gave a general outline of the procedure. My mother got very quiet and still. She gathered her thoughts and started by asking if things would be removed in pieces. I jumped in to explain that it all has to come out in one piece because the possibility of loose stones in a duct was baaaaad. Then she stared at him for a moment and said 'Her bellybutton is smaller than her gallbladder.' Um, I had not given that any thought... dang. 'Yep' replied the surgeon. Yikes.

I said 'see ya soon' to my family and my surgical nurse wheeled me into the operating theater. I moved myself onto the table since I wasn't looped up on Versed. Then he bustled around getting things set up. I had to take my gown out from under myself, and I began to wonder exactly what would be covered and what would be exposed... to late to start caring now! Cardiac monitoring leads were placed. Anxiety started to set in, and 'Perfect Day' by the Fresh Beat Band started to play on a loop in my head. That just pissed me off. I wanted the Beatles, and I got the Fresh Beat Band.

The anesthesiologist came in and made easy, light conversation about parenting as he set up. I held up my end of the conversation, but was starting to really freak out in my head. As he put the oxygen mask over my face, I hit 'I REALLY DO NOT WANT TO DO THIS!' I started to formulate sentences about how I had changed my mind as the oxygen started. He asked me to slow my breathing down to deep, even in and outs. He let me know that as the medicine was introduced, it would burn a bit. I had time to say 'there it is' as I felt it start, and then I was out. I know that I was dreaming when they started to bring me around, but I don't remember any of it.

As I came to and was wheeled into recovery, my nurse showed me my gallbladder. I wanted to hold the vial and get a good look at it, but he told me it was gross and whisked it away :-/ As soon as the bed was locked into place, I started asking to hear the baby. 'Just a minute, Mrs. Doyle. We have to get you settled.' It took her less than thirty seconds to find Bean, but it was just enough time for me to feel anxious. Bean was (of course) just fine. My throat hurt from the intubation, and pain was starting to set in. I tried to wave away meds, but my nurse just frowned at me and told me that I was going to receive a small amount of morphine (to help keep in front of the pain instead of getting behind it) and a small amount of zofran (for nausea). I sighed and gave her a grudging 'fine.' Then I took a short nap (5-10 minutes) and snapped at her when I woke up. Luz is a saint. She let me gripe and gave as good as she got.

My family was brought back, and I was allowed to have some water. I drank more than I should have. My nurse explained that I had to urinate before I would be allowed to leave, so I should start thinking about that. I said 'DEAL. Let's do this' and started trying to stand up. Luz helped me up, hugged me, then told my mother that I was 'very stubborn'. Nobody was surprised. I peed and we all puttered around for a short while. Then Luz removed my catheter (yuck) and let me get dressed. She went over my discharge orders with my husband. Told me not to sign any legal documents for 24 hours, and sent me home. The ride home sucked. I was so sad that I'd had 4 ounces of water. I kept cursing and feeling nauseated.

I shuffled around my bedroom briefly. I made myself a nest of pillows on Don's side of the bed. The dog was incredibly confused - she hates change. I tried to eat some soup, but only managed two spoonfuls before deciding that was a terrible idea. I had some sparkling water and a hydrocodone left from my initial gallbladder attack as the pharmacy was closed by the time I was discharged. I kept up the cursing. My mom called to check on me... you know... stuff...

Fairly soon, pain really started to set in right around the level of my shoulder blades. It wrapped around my whole rib cage, but hurt more in the back. My surgeon had filled me in on this ahead of time, but nothing can really prepare you. People usually attribute this pain to 'trapped gas' because it feels a lot like you need to let out a huge burp (from your back!?), but it has nothing to do with gas. According to my surgeon, if you were to take an MRI of the torso after this surgery, there is no trapped gas, There is no extra space. A very large majority of the gas is expelled as the procedure ends, and the remaining tiny percent is absorbed by the body VERY quickly. The pain is actually a diaphragmatic spasm. Your diaphragm doesn't like to be messed with. Your gallbladder is right under your diaphragm. Inflating the abdomen to get to the gallbladder really pisses of the diaphragm. It has a bit of a temper tantrum, and goes into spasm. That spasm HURTS. I had my husband 'beat' on my back, then tried to take a bath. Want to see a pissed off husband? Curse loudly and randomly for an hour or so, then ignore him when he tells you not to get into the bath tub.

After a heated argument about the bath and a few tears because I lost, Don left to buy me a heating pad. They were all out of heating pads that weren't $40, so he came back with the herbal packs that heat up when exposed to air. I am in love with those. They stayed warm for almost 24 hours.

I finally fell asleep.

Thus ended my day of gallbladder surgery.

I will end this post here because it is crazy long. I'll talk about my recovery in another post in case you want to hear about that as well...

Long Day

SO - we had a wonderful vacation with fantastic friends. More on that later...

My gallbladder did not respond to treatment with a low fat diet and medication. I have continued to have a moderate to high level of pain pretty much every day. In the 9 weeks since my diagnosis, I have had a few good days and even a good week, but let's face it - almost constant pain and developing a Pavlovian response to food (I am overcome by a physical wave of dread when it is time to eat) are not healthy. Nor is that an acceptable burden to put on this pregnancy.

I came home from our vacation resigned to the fact that I would probably have surgery between Thanksgiving and Christmas and with an appointment to talk it over with the surgeon two days later.

I felt just at ease with the surgeon as I had on my first visit. He listened and nodded and we talked and joked. Then he started checking his surgical schedule. At my suggestion, we started out by looking at the week after Thanksgiving... moments later, he was on the phone requesting a room for Monday - as in THIS Monday - as in 3 short days from where we were sitting. I swallowed a huge knot of panic. He said that if we were going to do this, we might as well stop putting it off... plus, this way I have less time to freak out. What I want to know is how he figured me out so quickly! The man has spent a total of 45 minutes with me, yet he knew that giving me a long lead time into surgery was a bad idea. *sigh*

That brings me to today. Monday. THE Monday. Lily Ruth is with her paternal grandparents in Houston. She's having such a great time that she is refusing to talk to me on the phone :-/ I have bathed twice with Hibiclens (the hospital-grade sterilizing wash), and had my last food & drink at 3 this morning. Now I just have to show up and do this...

I asked one of my on-line communities for meditations or mantras or prayers that they use to offer things up and let them go. I know for a fact that dragging fear and uncertainty into surgery with me is not helpful. I got a few responses - all very sweet and well intentioned - but none of them struck a chord with me. Then today, I jumped into the car to get gas and cash before we go to the hospital. In 15 short minutes, I heard 'Let it Be' by the Beatles TWICE. Not an everyday occurrence. I stopped the car and cried. Let it be. Let it go. Trust and breathe. I can do this.

Here's my list of reasons why today is so awesome:

1) After I recover, I can stop taking all of this damn pills!
2) I won't be in pain or afraid to eat anymore.
3) I can resume my love affair with cheese very soon.
4) ... that's enough for now...

Gotta run. They're expecting me.

And STAY Out!

Today was just one of those days... Well, to be honest, YESTERDAY was one of those days, so today sort-of felt like a hangover (if I even remember what a hangover feels like). I was completely uninspired in the parenting department today. Left to my own devices, I probably would have flopped around between my bed, the couch and the bathtub.

Since I was not left to my own devices, I asked Lily Ruth what she wanted to do. She wanted breakfast tacos. Specifically, breakfast tacos brought home by daddy. Well, it's not Saturday, so we decided to take breakfast tacos to daddy instead! That was great until I got cranky.

Our next stop was the park with our friends! That was great until I got cranky - and hot.

Next, Starbucks with even more friends. Great until Lily Ruth got cranky. Hey - at least it wasn't me!

When we pulled into our driveway I was having the kind of energy-sapped moment that made me feel as though taking off my seatbelt was an impossible task. So I left my purse, my drink and all of the assorted shoes, socks, legwarmers and other detritus of the day in the car and hoisted my sweaty, whiny, shoeless angel onto my shoulder.

As we crossed the threshold into our home, a small lizard darted across the tile. Not wanting to find a sad, desiccated lizard corpse in a few days, I immediately turned my focus to catching then freeing said lizard. Within seconds, we were all in on it. Well, I was hunting lizards, Keely wandered out the open front door, and Lily Ruth raced after her yelling 'Keely, get back in here you bad dog! Get back in this house you bad dog!' Keely really is a good dog, so in a matter of 10 seconds or less, she sauntered back through the door with Lily Ruth hot on her heels. They managed to foil a perfectly timed scoop-and-grab maneuver, and the little lizard darted in the opposite direction. I spun around and peered  behind the cedar chest. Not only was Little Lizard there, but he was in the company of Big Lizard. To be fair, Big Lizard was (hopefully is) only big in comparison to Little Lizard, but they were the only two around for reference, so there you have it.

I spent the next few minutes engaged in cartoon-esque behavior. Completely ineffectual chasing and shoo-ing foiled at every turn by lithe, graceful lizard ballet. In an attempt to gain an upper hand, I opened a rarely used connecting door into the guest room. My hope was that I could use some sort of surprise ninja attack that they would never see coming since they were unfamiliar with the floorplan of the house. In actuality, I managed to chase Big Lizard into a previously unknown-of giant gaping crack under the guest room window, and scare Little Lizard into a petrified, heavy-breathing panic under the cedar chest.

I gave up for the moment and wandered out to the car... only to find that I had left the rear door open. Swift. I gathered all of our belongings, and berated myself back inside.

After fortifying myself with the dregs of my Passion Tea Lemonade (I'm sure that requires capital letters and some sort of TM or C), I peered once again into the entry way. Little Lizard had moved himself behind the chest. I grabbed a junk mail post card and blocked his escape route. After that, I scooped him up in seconds. He froze in a very macho lizard pose - mouth open, eyes averted, fledgling red mating pouch partially inflated. I gently deposited him outside, and he scurried away. He didn't so much as glance back in gratitude.

I took a deep breath - well, um, if we're being fair, most of my breathing feels pretty dramatic what with the increased blood volume, bloating and growing of new organs... but I digress -  and turned to look for Big Lizard. Luckily for me (and probably for him - I was about to give up), he was staring longingly out of the guest room window. I scooped him up very quickly and headed toward the door. He also tried the macho route, and added in an attempt to bite me. Now, I dubbed him 'Big Lizard', but he was still tiny. We're talking four inches tops from nose to tail tip. Also, green garden lizards do not have teeth. Just flat, white cartilaginous gums. So when I say that he tried to bite me, what I mean is, he opened his mouth, managed to get it 1/3 of the way around my index finger, and closed his jaws. If I hadn't been staring straight at him, there is a pretty good chance that I wouldn't have even registered a change in pressure on my skin. Since I was staring straight at him, I said 'OUCH!' and even became annoyed with him for 'biting' me.

I continued to think cranky thoughts about Big Lizard as I walked out and set him free in approximately the same place where I left Little Lizard (and yes, I gave it conscious thought. What if they are friends or even family members? Community is important, people!). As I set him down, It struck me how ridiculous this was. My ingrained response to being 'bitten' was so strong that I was irritated with a teensy lizard for being terrified of the giant who chased him around then held him high in the air.

I decided instead to be proud of both of them. They both took me on with courage and panache. Well fought, lizards. Well fought.

Because my life is so rich, full and fascinating, I decided to post about my lizard bite on facebook. One friend commented that her gecko had quite a nasty bite despite his toothless status. In an effort to clarify the complete inanity of my situation, I commented that the bite was akin to 'being gummed by a sock puppet'. In retrospect, I am delighted with myself. That may become my new catch phrase. I adore it. So completely ridiculous. So whimsically fun! My afternoon agitation has given me something fun - for once.

Come back here, lizards! I'ma kiss you on the lips! O.k., fine - I'ma kiss you on the cartilaginous gums!