Friday, June 13th, 2008
Friday the Thirteenth...
Friday the F-ing 13th...
We shoulda just stayed in bed.
If ever I had a legitimate excuse for not posting pictures after suggesting I might then ladies and gentlemen, may I present exhibit A... our Friday the 13th, 2008.
Not to go all storybook on you but it really did start just like any other day. It was nice, if not a little warm out, and the wifey and I were planning on hitting up the stores and getting some dinner out since it was a nice Friday night. So, rather than take two cars and me have to drive home before we went out, Katie just dropped me off at my office in the morning on her way in to the school.
The rest of the day was uneventful. That is, until about ten minutes of five...
I was watching the clock expecting a call in the next 15 minutes or so from Kate letting me know she was parked outside so I could wrap things up and we could go. Instead I got a call from Kate at 10 minutes of; hysterical and crying, to the point that I didn't understand anything she said the first time around. So I had her take a deep breath on the phone with me and asked her to repeat herself. What she said next almost stopped my heart right then and there.
"I fell."
I can say with absolute certainty I've never been more scared in my life than I was at that moment. Those two words hold the possibility for so many bad things to happen that I didn't want to consider going there. Instead, I asked her to take a few more deep breaths and explain what happened.
"I don't know. I just fell. I tripped. Outside. On the sidewalk. Face first. I couldn't catch myself."
Remember at this point that I don't have a car to get home. That's when the real panic set in. Face first? Couldn't catch yourself? The bad thoughts were beginning to creep in and there was nothing I could do about it.
Thankfully, a friend at work was able to give me a ride immidately and we pulled in front of the apartment building within about 20 minutes. During this time I spoke with her on the phone a few additional times, making sure of how she was feeling and finding out if she was able to get a hold of her doctor. By the time we got there she was sitting up on the front stoop. She had calmed down considerably, but neither of us were exactly what I would call "cool as a cucumber" at that point.
She had a knee that looked like it had been rubbed a half-dozen times across an industrial-size cheese grater and a right cheekbone that was taking on the color and puffiness of what was bound to be a shiner for sure.
I got her to the car and we headed straight for the hospital. On the way, her doctor called her back and told her if she could, to head to the hospital and call ahead to the Labor and Delivery Ward to let them know what was going on (check and check). By the time we got there, 15 minutes after we left (a record for Philly traffic on a Friday at 5:30) they were already expecting us.
Our biggest worry? Over the course of that hour Katie hadn't felt the baby move at all. We knew it could be because he was sleeping (which he does much more of during the day), or maybe because in her hyper-active state she wasn't able to feel any more subtle movements that may have been happening.
The hospital's biggest worry? Apparently much different than ours. For the first twenty minutes we were there they kept asking her the same questions over and over: "Where did you fall?", "Did you trip over something?", How long did it take you two to get here?", What time did you fall?", "Was your husband home when you fell?".
Hospitals ask a lot of questions when a pregnant woman comes in, saying she tripped and fell, with a bruised eye and skinned knees, and there are no "scuff marks" on her hands where she might have tried to catch herself. (Side note: there were scratches on her hands, but that would have prevented this particular nurse from getting as fired up as she was; really helping nobody in the process.)
(Side note #2: I can certaintly understand the need for the questions considering the society we live in today; but don't you think it more appropriate to ask the questions AFTER the patient is treated, calm and stable? I'm just sayin'...)
So the inquisition is over and they finally get her in a bed in the Labor and Delivery section of the hospital. The plan at that point: a 24-hour observation to make sure everything is OK. If at any point the situation changes... well, again something I didn't want to think about until if we had to.
So for the next 24 hours they draw blood twice to make sure there is no internal bleeding (a sign the placenta is seperated from the uterus), hook Kate up to a fetal heart-rate monitor and a TOCO monitor (don't know what it stands for- I only know it measures any contraction the mother may be having- another sign of early labor) and finally, an Ultrasound to make sure everything appears as it should.
Once they got her out of triage and into LDR the remainder of the staff was more than plesant and accomodating. They even brought me a cot to sleep on next to her and ignored the visitation hours for me so I didn't have to leave her that night. They brought toothbrushes and toothpaste for us so we could get cleaned up Saturday morning, and never rolled their eyes even once when Kate asked for assistance getting up to use the restroom (since each trip required someone to disconnect and then afterwards re-apply all the baby-belly monitors).
After 24 hours and a few chewed fingernails the doctor finally let us know: everything was fine. There was no indication of internal bleeding, the fetal heart-rate was strong and steady, he was moving again, and there were no signs of early-labor contractions.
Whew.
*Epilogue- After we got home that night and had dinner we got a good night's rest and got up early the next day. Why? We had to go back to the hospital. Weeks ago we had scheduled ourselves for a day-long birthing class that ran that Sunday. So, one last much more plesant and relaxed hospital meal, and a bunch of great lessons later we took the tour of the LDR with the rest of the expecting families in attendence. Needless to say, we didn't need the tour at that point. We did however, get to see some of the nurses that were back on shift the next day and were able to thank them for their help. Who knows, maybe we'll get to see them again in about six more weeks?
*Epilogue #2- Normally this is the week Kate would be at Disney with the Freshman girls. Since flying is considered dangerous at this late stage in the pregnancy everyone thought it best she stay home. You know, since it's safe and all...
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
More Baby Updates
Our son is already just like his old man...
Stubborn as a mule.
As little as three weeks ago the doctor was showing (mild) concern about the relative lack of weight gain. Almost as if to say "I'll show you!" he has since gained an additional 50% in weight in only a little over three weeks. The doctor is no longer worrying about the LAB's size. My wife's dream of a "average size baby", as she puts it, is going out the window... a well-greased, fully open window. This little growth spurt of our LAB has led to, among other things:
Swollen feet
Pinched bladder
Compressed ribs
A general feeling of uncomfortableness that extends though what would normally be seen as sleeping hours
Plus, there's all the side effects for the mother too!
When I said not long ago that he moves all the time I was horribly understating the situation. You can actually see the waves across Kate's belly as he shimmies and shakes. It's like a fleshy ripple. (One flavor ice cream you'll never-ever see.) The only real medical problem with all of this?
He's not really going anywhere. He's in what is called the Traverse Position
If, however, over the couse of the next few weeks he doesn't get himself "rotated" he and mommy may have to go through what is known as an Aversion Procedure. I think they call it this because Mommy (and presumably the LAB too) would be terribly adverse to having this procedure take place (a.k.a.- I'd probably end up getting kicked in the nuts somewhere along the line). Basically, the doctor will press and pull and try to actually rotate the LAB into this ideal position. At first they will do this externally. Read this next part very carefully.
If that doesn't work they will try to rotate him INTERNALLY.
O.M.G.
There are times when I get backed up and a trip to the bathroom can be extremely painful. I couldn't even begin to imagine what it might feel like if my bowel movement were suddenly transformed into a rotating turd of death. Just writing this is making me light-headed.
I know there was a bout of morning sickness to start this pregnancy off (another of my famous under-statements) but this is the first real medical situation we've come up against to-date. And while we recogonize the potential seriousness of it all, we also are taking everything with a grain of salt (see "turd of death" statement above) since we can only control what we can control.
Besides, like I said, he wouldn't be our son otherwise.
(Pictures tomorrow hopefully...)
Stubborn as a mule.
As little as three weeks ago the doctor was showing (mild) concern about the relative lack of weight gain. Almost as if to say "I'll show you!" he has since gained an additional 50% in weight in only a little over three weeks. The doctor is no longer worrying about the LAB's size. My wife's dream of a "average size baby", as she puts it, is going out the window... a well-greased, fully open window. This little growth spurt of our LAB has led to, among other things:
Swollen feet
Pinched bladder
Compressed ribs
A general feeling of uncomfortableness that extends though what would normally be seen as sleeping hours
Plus, there's all the side effects for the mother too!
When I said not long ago that he moves all the time I was horribly understating the situation. You can actually see the waves across Kate's belly as he shimmies and shakes. It's like a fleshy ripple. (One flavor ice cream you'll never-ever see.) The only real medical problem with all of this?
He's not really going anywhere. He's in what is called the Traverse Position
And he doesn't seem to mind just staying in that position. It's the same one he's been in since the very first set of ultrasound pictures. See what I mean? Stubborn.
If, however, over the couse of the next few weeks he doesn't get himself "rotated" he and mommy may have to go through what is known as an Aversion Procedure. I think they call it this because Mommy (and presumably the LAB too) would be terribly adverse to having this procedure take place (a.k.a.- I'd probably end up getting kicked in the nuts somewhere along the line). Basically, the doctor will press and pull and try to actually rotate the LAB into this ideal position. At first they will do this externally. Read this next part very carefully.If that doesn't work they will try to rotate him INTERNALLY.
O.M.G.
There are times when I get backed up and a trip to the bathroom can be extremely painful. I couldn't even begin to imagine what it might feel like if my bowel movement were suddenly transformed into a rotating turd of death. Just writing this is making me light-headed.
I know there was a bout of morning sickness to start this pregnancy off (another of my famous under-statements) but this is the first real medical situation we've come up against to-date. And while we recogonize the potential seriousness of it all, we also are taking everything with a grain of salt (see "turd of death" statement above) since we can only control what we can control.
Besides, like I said, he wouldn't be our son otherwise.
(Pictures tomorrow hopefully...)
Adding One To The List...
The city of Philadelphia has more city-sanctioned public murals than any other municipality in the world.
http://www.muralarts.org/
If you slow down long enough to take a look around it really can be a beautiful piece of the city backdrop. And, while this one won't be public, you can look forward to one more mural within the city limits very soon...
...our son's bedroom.
I decided a while ago I wanted to do this but hadn't decided on a "theme" until a few weeks ago.
http://www.muralarts.org/
If you slow down long enough to take a look around it really can be a beautiful piece of the city backdrop. And, while this one won't be public, you can look forward to one more mural within the city limits very soon...
...our son's bedroom.
I decided a while ago I wanted to do this but hadn't decided on a "theme" until a few weeks ago.
Because that's what little boys are made of!
Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present Freddie the Frog...
Sally the Snail...
Each of these little guys is about 2 foot square; givng me a 2' x 6' finished product. I plan on doing a pictoral "slide-show" of painted progress on this little project in the next few weeks, as I promised the Mommy-to-be a completed room by the end of the month- a.k.a. 36 weeks. (You know, just in case...)
Stay tuned...
Monday, June 2, 2008
My Train (wreck) Of Thought
This is what happens when I don’t write in a long while. I feel so compelled to get all these thoughts out on paper finally that they become the blog equivalent of a dam breaking- no smooth flow and transition, just a white-water current of my random thoughts over the past three and a half weeks (and I apologize for waiting so long).
I have more pictures and if I ever actually plug my laptop into the office scanner instead of just having it on my lap in bed (a wireless home network is a dangerous thing) I promise to give you all some more “belly shots”.
I’d also like to start taking pictures of progress on the LAB’s bedroom mural. I’d like to…
When I was a little kid I thought my father was perfect; like most kids do who look up to their fathers. When I got to be a little older (re: teenager) and we would fight some it was me testing boundaries and coming to the assumption that he was, in reality, far from perfect; though at that age I still didn’t have what you might consider “proof”. It was only after he died and I got a bit older and realized that I wasn’t perfect that I was able to say for sure, that neither was my father. Oddly enough, it was only when I reached that point that I think I fully understood what kind of man and what kind of father he was; and that who he really was now impresses me more than when I was an eight-year old and really thought he was perfect.
I also felt a bit guilty this past week for thinking about my father so much when I’ve got my mother still here. Remembering how a few years back she battled through open-heart surgery, breast cancer, near kidney failure and two hip-replacements in a span of just over 24 months… I don’t think calling her a hero would give much justice to the kind of woman she is. I’d like to think these are the kinds of moments she was looking towards when she was fighting to get out of hospital bed after hospital bed. One of my favorite quotes of all-time is “A man is not judged a success by his accomplishments as much as he is by the number of times he is willing to fail, and try again.” I botched the exact quote but you get the idea… my mom is living proof of the truth of that idiom.
We’re getting the baby’s furniture next weekend. It may be the first time I’m ever excited to assemble furniture.
I decided in church last weekend that the LAB was going to be born on July 16th. Follow this logic: I was born on October 20th and my dad’s birthday was January 24th. So, as his first born son, I arrived 4 days short of nine months after his birthday. This might seem silly to you; but right now it makes as much sense to me as 2+2=4.
Our brand new car had issues last weekend that kept us from going to a friend’s on Long Island for their birthday. I think it’s the most randomly angry I’ve been at something in a while. Especially since the repair/ issue was relatively minor and cost us nothing (warranty). Still, on principal I almost drove back to the dealer (200 miles away) simply to yell. Problem was, I didn’t have a car to do it in. That my friends, is irony.
I think we finally found a pediatrician. Next to the birth itself, this was probably the biggest remaining worry I had (excluding the money worry which will go away when they’re 30…maybe).
I thought nesting was a female trait of the pregnancy. Apparently I was way wrong. Curtains, pictures, furniture, murals… I feel like I’m living in one of those home renovation shows except for the fact that nothing’s been glued to walls (yet).
No child’s diaper could possibly be as bad as what our cat did in the litter box last night. At one point, as I approached the box, I could feel heat emanating from it – kinda like the sacred stones in “Temple of Doom”.
The LAB moves ALL THE TIME. It’s like a human gremlin that got fed after midnight or something I swear to god.
Apparently, hospitals are seeing a decline in the number of births for 2008 so far. Some experts believe this is because of the hits the economy has taken over the past year which are now, months later (obviously) showing up in a decline in “planned” pregnancies. That either makes the wife and I very secure or very delusional. I haven’t decided just yet.
Will try to be more frequent with the updates; if not for your reading pleasure than at least for my sanity… July 16th… what am I thinking?
I have more pictures and if I ever actually plug my laptop into the office scanner instead of just having it on my lap in bed (a wireless home network is a dangerous thing) I promise to give you all some more “belly shots”.
I’d also like to start taking pictures of progress on the LAB’s bedroom mural. I’d like to…
When I was a little kid I thought my father was perfect; like most kids do who look up to their fathers. When I got to be a little older (re: teenager) and we would fight some it was me testing boundaries and coming to the assumption that he was, in reality, far from perfect; though at that age I still didn’t have what you might consider “proof”. It was only after he died and I got a bit older and realized that I wasn’t perfect that I was able to say for sure, that neither was my father. Oddly enough, it was only when I reached that point that I think I fully understood what kind of man and what kind of father he was; and that who he really was now impresses me more than when I was an eight-year old and really thought he was perfect.
I also felt a bit guilty this past week for thinking about my father so much when I’ve got my mother still here. Remembering how a few years back she battled through open-heart surgery, breast cancer, near kidney failure and two hip-replacements in a span of just over 24 months… I don’t think calling her a hero would give much justice to the kind of woman she is. I’d like to think these are the kinds of moments she was looking towards when she was fighting to get out of hospital bed after hospital bed. One of my favorite quotes of all-time is “A man is not judged a success by his accomplishments as much as he is by the number of times he is willing to fail, and try again.” I botched the exact quote but you get the idea… my mom is living proof of the truth of that idiom.
We’re getting the baby’s furniture next weekend. It may be the first time I’m ever excited to assemble furniture.
I decided in church last weekend that the LAB was going to be born on July 16th. Follow this logic: I was born on October 20th and my dad’s birthday was January 24th. So, as his first born son, I arrived 4 days short of nine months after his birthday. This might seem silly to you; but right now it makes as much sense to me as 2+2=4.
Our brand new car had issues last weekend that kept us from going to a friend’s on Long Island for their birthday. I think it’s the most randomly angry I’ve been at something in a while. Especially since the repair/ issue was relatively minor and cost us nothing (warranty). Still, on principal I almost drove back to the dealer (200 miles away) simply to yell. Problem was, I didn’t have a car to do it in. That my friends, is irony.
I think we finally found a pediatrician. Next to the birth itself, this was probably the biggest remaining worry I had (excluding the money worry which will go away when they’re 30…maybe).
I thought nesting was a female trait of the pregnancy. Apparently I was way wrong. Curtains, pictures, furniture, murals… I feel like I’m living in one of those home renovation shows except for the fact that nothing’s been glued to walls (yet).
No child’s diaper could possibly be as bad as what our cat did in the litter box last night. At one point, as I approached the box, I could feel heat emanating from it – kinda like the sacred stones in “Temple of Doom”.
The LAB moves ALL THE TIME. It’s like a human gremlin that got fed after midnight or something I swear to god.
Apparently, hospitals are seeing a decline in the number of births for 2008 so far. Some experts believe this is because of the hits the economy has taken over the past year which are now, months later (obviously) showing up in a decline in “planned” pregnancies. That either makes the wife and I very secure or very delusional. I haven’t decided just yet.
Will try to be more frequent with the updates; if not for your reading pleasure than at least for my sanity… July 16th… what am I thinking?
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