Bad Phlebotomists and Good Friends

I had my mandatory OB nurse appointment today, otherwise known as the No Fun Appointment. This is the appointment where they talk to you about first trimester screening (which we're opting out of), morning sickness (could've used that talk about a month ago), vitamins, pre-term labor, STDs, the mercury level in fish, and everything in between. Oh, and insurance. Because apparently they want to be paid to deliver this baby. It's not that this session wasn't informative, but it's the first baby-related doctor's appointment I've had that I haven't gotten to see my baby. I mean, I figured if I was going to make the trip all the way out there, they might as well humor me and let me at least take a quick peak at Baby O. No such luck.

The nurse that I met with was great. You know those people that just have kind smiles? She was one of them. I bet she's a fantastic grandmother. Then phlebotomist, on the other hand, either a) got dumped by her boyfriend last night b) lost her puppy before work this morning or c) hated me. Because if neither of these options are the case, then she just takes great joy in being mean while drawing blood. Don't get me wrong- I don't love getting my blood drawn. But I've gotten used to it over the past 2 years, because infertility kind of leaves you no other choice. Plus, the women who drew blood at my RE's office were fantastic. They smiled, they joked with you, they asked questions- they kept you distracted. And call me spoiled, but that's what I'm used to now. So, I skipped into the lab this morning expecting another friendly, smiling face. No such luck. This lady didn't speak to me as she filled vial after vial after vial of my blood. Right around the fifth vial, I started to feel woozy.

"Are you getting close to being done?" I asked her, and I promise it wasn't in an annoying way. It was in an I'm-starting-to-see-stars-and-might-black-out-at-any-second panicked kind of way.

"Yeah," she snapped back at me. "You're just a really slow bleeder."

Um. Okay. Maybe that's a phlebotomist's way of insulting you? I felt like snapping right back at her, "Oh yeah? Well, no one else has ever complained about the speed of my bleed."

But, alas, 76* vials of blood later, I was finally able to leave.

Now, on to a happier subject: good friends.

Yesterday I received a card in the mail from one of my sister's oldest and best friends (hi, Dina). The front of the card says, "Pregnancy is the happiest reason ever for feeling like crap". Yep. Couldn't have said it better myself. And then she wrote some really sweet and thoughtful things on the inside that made me all teary and I swear it's not just because I am a hormonal disaster right now. It's because it was just kind. And it acknowledged that we worked really, really hard for this pregnancy.

Then today, I received a package in the mail from one of my oldest and best friends (hi, Danielle). She sent me a huge bag of M&Ms (which I am eating as I type this, no joke). She also sent me Tummy Honey Butter to prevent stretch marks, Preggie Pop Drops to help combat my friend Morning Sickness (who, if I'm being honest, was never much of a friend anyway), and the cutest little sock monkey slippers for infants. So.freakin.cute. And such a thoughtful package.

I am 11 weeks today. Come on, 2nd trimester. I am so ready for you.




*It was probably more like 8 vials of blood, but who's counting?

Letter from Dr. P

I sent Dr. P an email about a week ago to thank him for everything. And really, there's so much more I could have thanked him for (like meeting me after hours when I was a moron and didn't order enough medication) but I have a tendency to be too wordy, so I tried to keep it (fairly) short and sweet. Below is my email to him, with the clinic's name removed since my sister has made me a little bit cautious about throwing all of my personal info out there on the internet for everyone to read (what, you mean that's not safe?!):

Dr. P,

I always hoped I'd be able to write this email to you, but I never really knew what I'd say when the moment arrived. Now it's here and I still feel at a loss for words, beyond the obvious thank you from the bottom of my heart.

My husband and I came to you frustrated and confused. We were young, we were seemingly healthy- and yet, we had been struggling for over a year to get pregnant. From the beginning, you were matter-of-fact, but also reassuring. We developed a game plan, and you were there to answer my questions every step along the way. Even though sometimes I felt like I emailed you far too often, I could always expect a response- by email or by phone- the same day. You'll never know how much that meant to me, as you were often able to ease my worried mind.

It's still a bit surreal to me that I am 9 weeks pregnant. Though I am thrilled for obvious reasons to have "graduated" from [your clinic], I'll really miss you and the staff there. You helped me through an extremely stressful, emotional time in my life and I am so thankful for you. My decision to choose [your clinic] was largely by chance, but I can't put into words how happy I am about making that first phone call a year ago.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

And then, because he is just so wonderful, Dr. P sent me this email back today. Have I mentioned how much I love him?!

Hi Kerri,

You are very welcome! I'm sorry that it took so long for me to respond. I really appreciated the sincere message and felt that you deserved the same. My life has been a little crazy lately with our 4 week old and with my recent oral board examination for reproductive endocrinology. I took some time off to cram, then I had to go down to Dallas for a couple of days. Things have calmed down now and I'm catching up on things.

It was really a pleasure to work with you and Matt. You two were some of my nicest patients and I'm really thrilled for you, especially since we were about to have a discussion about the IVF process! I'm happy that it didn't come to that for you.

I wish you the best during the rest of your pregnancy. I hope you're feeling well. In case you haven't been, you can look forward to the second trimester "honeymoon" phase where you should start feeling better, before you start feeling very big and clumsy.

Send me baby pictures! And, if you would like, we can add yours to the ones posted in our lobby.

Take care,
Dr. P

I'm out of the closet

Matt and I went to a wedding in West VA this weekend that was kind of like a very mini high school reunion. One of Matt's best friends from childhood was the groom, and thus, there were quite a few of Matt's oldest friends there. I knew Matt had told these friends that I am pregnant a few days before we left to make the trip. He also told them that it's still early, that we aren't officially telling people yet, etc. Well, that didn't last long. Combine alcohol and long lost friends and the conversations start flowing. Pretty much every time Matt or I walked into a room, someone would come up and say, "Congratulations" which would lead other people to ask, "Congratulations on what?" By the end of the weekend, I am convinced that every single person there knew I was expecting, even if they didn't know who I was!

And you know what? I am okay with that. It's time for me to let go of the need to control every little aspect of this pregnancy, because let's face it: I have no real control anyway. The outcome of this pregnancy will have absolutely nothing to do with whether or not we told people we were pregnant the day I first peed on a stick or if we waited until I was headed to labor and delivery. And you know what else? It felt kind of nice to be out of the closet, to accept congratulations, and to answer everyone's excited questions. It was like, for the first time ever, I was a real pregnant person.

Moving on. There was another girl at the wedding who is expecting her first a few weeks before me. She sat at my table at the reception and we chatted a bit about our experience so far. When she raised her glass to toast with champagne 3 or 4 times, I thought nothing of it. A sip of champagne isn't a big deal. Just because I'm neurotic and toasted with water doesn't mean she should have to. But then, as I was debating whether or not I should eat my salad since it was sprinkled with feta cheese (damn you, listeriosis), I looked over to watch her sipping on wine. Okay. Maybe I am being overly conservative, but I just don't get that. I just don't. To each his own though, I guess.

And finally, I have to update you on my good friend, Morning Sickness. Thankfully, I made it through both the ceremony and reception without getting sick. That was a small miracle. I could barely even look at the salmon served at the reception, but I did eat about 25 cookies from the cookie bar that night. I know, I know- that's not healthy. But if I can keep it down, I'm going to eat it. Period. Because there's just not much that falls into the "Foods I Can Keep Down" category anymore.

But anyway. I threw up 3 times before hitting the road to head back home this morning. A fantastic way to start the day, especially when our 6 hour drive home consisted primarily of driving through winding, mountain roads. And you know something else I noticed? Every billboard we passed along the way involved food, and primarily red meat. It was if I was being tortured. I'd look to my right and see a juicy steak advertising a local restaurant and then, as my stomach started to turn, I'd look to my left and see a fast food chain advertising a big, sloppy burger, overflowing with bacon. My friend Morning Sickness? She hated this very much.

Okay, here's the first belly shot at just over 9 weeks. This was after rehearsal dinner on Friday night. Baby or bloat? I'm thinking bloat, but it's anyone's guess.

What a difference 2 weeks makes!

I had my first regular OB appointment today and it was less traumatic than I imagined. I still miss my RE, of course, but I really liked the nurse practitioner who performed my ultrasound today.

Baby O is looking great- and much more like a baby. Now, when I was at the doctor's office looking at the ultrasound screen, I could very clearly see the tiny arms and legs she pointed out to me. They were precious! I could also see the different hemispheres of Baby's brain. And, just to show off, Baby did a little dance for us.

But, I do have to admit something before I post the pictures below. Without the NP carefully pointing out each arm and leg, I really don't understand these pictures. Remember that "Friends" episode when Rachel felt like a bad mom because she had no idea where her baby was on the ultrasound pics? Yeah, well- I know where she's coming from. Yet I still think the pictures are absolutely adorable.

Someone (Melissa?) asked me about belly shots recently. They're coming, I promise. I've been hesitant to take any just because of the whole jinxing factor (so logical, I know) but I really don't want you guys to miss out on my lovely bloat. That's right; I am at the stage where I really don't look pregnant but I certainly don't look thin either. I look like maybe I've been eating a lot of donuts and pounding a few too many beers. The look's growing on me, I must say.

And, without further ado, here is my sweet 1 inch baby:

Meet my new friends

Since they plan on sticking around for a while, I thought I'd introduce you to two buddies that I've become particularly close to over the past couple of weeks: Nausea and Exhaustion. And holy wow- they are kicking my butt.

Exhaustion...how do I explain thee? Let me try: Mom and I went to visit my brother, Chris, in Chicago last weekend. While we were there, my need to nap every couple of hours prompted Chris to call me "Papa", who is my adorable 91 year old grandfather (who, understandably, naps a lot). But! In my defense, I read in one of my pregnancy books that my sister bought for me this very interesting comparison: what goes on in a pregnant woman's body in the first trimester is similar to what would be going on in a non-pregnant woman's body if she was running a marathon every day. So there. I am completely justified in my exhaustion. The book says so!

Nausea came to visit me right at the 7 week mark. She also caused me to sprint to the bathroom yesterday at work and hug the toilet for several minutes. I have yet to find anything that calms my stomach...other than constant snacking, which could become problematic. Mornings are typically the worst and I am now carrying a plastic bag in my car with me as a makeshift barf bag- just in case. I'm not really having any cravings at all. On the contrary, there are several foods that I have total aversions to right now. I'd list them out for you, but I think I've reached my toilet hugging quota this week.

Oh, and let me be clear: I am not complaining. No way, no how. I will not complain about a minute of this pregnancy. Nope, not even when I have my face in the toilet at 8am in the co-ed bathroom at work. No matter what, I am thankful. No matter what, I will be hospitable to my new friends.

Amazing

While growing up, I was always very close to my maternal grandmother's sister, Jean. Many of my earliest memories include Jean in some way. I used to love visiting her house and she was always a regular at our house as well. When my family moved away from Jean when I was in the second grade, I started writing letters to her. Over the years, she became my favorite pen pal. She wrote to me, asking about my teachers, my middle school crushes, and my soccer team. Without fail, if I sent a letter to Jean, I'd always have a return letter waiting in my mailbox within a week, in that same familiar cursive writing.

Throughout our pen pal years, Jean was battling cancer. It started in her ovaries, and then metastasized. There were times I could tell she was really unwell; her letters were sometimes written in shaky handwriting as she explained to me all about her latest chemotherapy treatment. Still, the letters always had the same upbeat tone. Her cancer went into remission for a while before it returned and ultimately took her life in 1995.

Jean died when I was in the 9th grade- long before I was seriously thinking about having kids. But I started saying back then that, if I had a daughter one day, her middle name would be Jean. And over the past decade, I have changed my mind about a million other things that I decided in high school, but I have never changed my mind about that. In fact, I'm pretty sure I told Matt our future daughter's middle name while we were dating. It's just always been something I am certain about.

Today I saw my baby's heartbeat for the first time. There really are no words to describe a moment like that; it's bigger than anything I could try to write. But as I was lying there on the table, mesmerized by that tiny flutter on the screen, Matt brought me back to reality.

He looked up at the doctor performing the ultrasound and asked, "So, when is our due date?"

She took some measurements and thought for a minute before saying, "November 19th."

Jean passed away on November 19th, 1995.

God works in amazing ways.

We have a heartbeat!

I have a lot to say- I finally found my words- but I don't have time to write now. I did, however, want to share this sweet picture:




Don't worry- much more to come later.