Uncommon Julia

The boy so nice, we named him twice!

A little over six weeks ago, we welcomed Andrew Sawyer (that's his full first name) into the world.  It was a bit of a bumpy road, with a NICU stay very similar to Hannah's, but he's been a healthy, bouncing baby boy ever since.  

Born at 37 weeks, Andrew Sawyer weighed in at 7 lbs. 5 oz. - pretty darned impressive, if I do say so myself.  A good deal of that was head, which measured a full month ahead of time, but now appears normal, since you don't adjust for gestational age once you hit 37 weeks.

He looks A LOT like both Hannah and Caroline.  A lot.  Their newborn faces are starting to blend in my memory now.  His hair is very similar to Hannahs, but his personality is more Caroline.  He's very easy going and easy to please.  All three of them have the same basic face, but Sawyer has a decidedly more masculine look.

My former boss made this adorable hat (along with booties and a blanket) for Andrew by hand while undergoing chemo.  She's clearly a badass.  A badass who was planning for a premature baby.  We are so very thrilled that we made it through 11 weeks of bedrest, all the way up to his planned c-section date.  It was an indescribable blessing to walk PAST the incubators in the NICU with micro premies, knowing that that should have been us.

It was also much easier to deal with his NICU stay, having been through it with Hannah and knowing that it can (and often does) go just fine.  All in all, the decision to move the surgery up to 37 weeks (from 38) was a good one.  We avoided any placental conditions and, unknowingly, problems with gestational thrombocytopenia that likely would have meant general anesthesia had we waited any longer.  So my girl bits are intact and I got to experience his deliverly - complete with a scary "code pink" in the OR when they had to call in the NICU docs and make sure he was okay.

With some history under my belt, I was able to avoid an overproduction issue this time around, carefully pumping only as much as he was consuming in the NICU, despite an overwhelming urge to relieve the pressure and engorgement.  As a result, I have normal sized nursing boobies, and a baby who isn't riddled with reflux.  It took some doing, and some attention-paying, but the result has been well worth it.

Life, my dear friends, is spectacular.  It's not perfect or without challenges, but it's full to the brim.  So much so that what used to feel like an overwhelming compulsion to reach out into cyberspace and glean comfort and support from all of you has slackened.  I hope that doesn't sound bad!  I don't mean it to.  I cannot count how many times my life was saved by this blog and my readers.  

I'm not shutting down or going away, but I do need to be more realistic about how often I might post here.  I have one-and-a-half more weeks of leave before I go back to work.  We have hired a day nanny to take care of Andrew Sawyer and the girls, so I'll be able to enjoy them as I work full time from home.  I have Patrick.  I have new "IRL" friends and evening playdates.  I have at-home mani-pedi obligations with the girls.  We have gymnastics practices and homework, and a house that needs some lovin'.  And all of it makes me smile.  And drowsy.  It makes me really drowsy.  

It's the kind of life that leads you to fall asleep with a baby in your arms and a smile on your lips.  And that was the goal all along.

One Week to Go! [Whew!]

One week from today, God willin' and the creek don't rise, we'll be holding our bouncing baby boy in our arms.  I've been on bedrest for 11 weeks now, and it's been just about as tough as I had always thought bedrest might be.  It amazes me how full and busy my days are, perhaps even more so since I can't just get up and deal with it.  So we're both amazed nd relieved to be rounding out this pregnancy.

It's borderline ridiculous that we made it this far.  The odds were certainly against us and we couldn't be more pleased that Baby Boy is healthy, BIG, and will be a few days into the "full term" category when we deliver.  I'm also trying to savor the last days of this pregnancy.  In all likelihood, it will be our last.  We had entertained the notion of another, but the high risks of this pregnancy have me feeling much more secure in the notion of this being the last.  We're not certain, and we're not taking any permanent measures yet.  We want time for the dust to settle from all of this and to get to a much smoother family routine before we make that call.

Still, as anyone who's ever been this pregnant knows, the last weeks are tough - no matter how badly you've wanted to arrive at the end destination.

Baby Boy "dropped" when I went into labor at 26 weeks, and they don't exactly crawl back up outta there once they've done that.  Measuring on the big side this whole time, He's gotten bigger and bigger and my pelvis isn't as appreciative of that fact as my lungs are.  The hip pain, incredible karate kicks, cervical assaults, and an increase in serious feeling contractions has made it hard to feel the "glow".

Still, having an end that's very much in sight makes a huge difference.  I cannot imagine how I'd keep going another four weeks.  My short torso is done. Out of space. And a very unwilling participant at this point.

Come Monday morning, we're hoping for a smooth early morning c-section with all of the preparations we've used in the past for a potential accreta.  So far, ultrasound hasn't shown a placental issue, but we have seen more placental "lakes" on the last scan (which can be a sign), and since neither the increta or accreta from my past two pregnancies were visualized online, it's not safe or recommended to assume we're in the clear.

My OB and everyone on her staff have been amazing.  My new MFA has been equally impressive, and the hospital now has top-of-line care, protocol, and capabilities when it comes to handling maternal hemmorhage.  I feel well cared for.

My parents will come to town the day before to take care of the girls, who will all be nursery-side when he's delivered on Monday.  All three are over the moon with excitement about the new arrival and we're looking forward to parenting with a true partner and three kids who are old enough to wrap their heads around this, be genuinely helpful, and verbally express themselves whenever needed.

There's still a level of stress in our lives that really isn't quite fair.  But we're dealing with it all bit by bit and looking forward to the day when that isn't the case and we can focus all of our attention where life most deserves it.

In the meantime, we're reveling in the love and support we have now, and looking foward to bringing you the good news of Baby Boy's arrival!

Almost 31 weeks

Baby Boy is doing just great.  He's a biggun, upwards of 90% on all the scans over the past month or two. Right now, as we hit the 31 week mark tomorrow, he should be upwards of 4 lbs.  He's supremely active - reminding me a lot of Caroline - and has flipped from head-down to breech FOUR TIMES in the past month.  The girls love to gather around and watch my belly roil and tumble.  The sensation is not always enjoyable for me, but it's such a huge affirmation that he's healthy and thriving.

We're going to the OB and the MFM once a week, staggered, so that we have two appointments each week.  My cervix has held steady at 18mm, which is the most encouraging sign of all.  

Being at home has been life-altering.  My stress level has gone way down and my quality of life has gone way up.

There are still stress points, though. Two big ones that I won't be able to discuss for a while, and some other more minor ones that are far easier to deal with.  I have learned, though, that my stress level has a MUCH bigger impact on me physiologically than I ever would have thought.  A stressful day almost always leads to spotting and more uterine irritability and contractions.  The correlation has been undeniable.

So we're working hard to sheild me from any unnecessary stressors, and to find good tools for dealing with the stress I cannot avoid. By and large, it's working.

It's hard to believe that when I was first admitted to the hospital, we didn't think we'd make it out of February. Now, it's practically April! We are so relieved to have had all this extra time to keep him safe and cooking.  Strictly by the numbers, women like me who were sub 15mm and "sympotomatic" (meaning they had preterm labor) would deliver their baby within 1 week 70% of the time.

Here's to going against the odds - yet again!

Bedrest, Home Edition

Sweet Jeebus, the let us come home! It's better than Christmas morning!

It's hard to overemphasize how wonderful it is to see our home, our bed, our bathroom, OUR DVR!!! Patrick is grabbing the prescriptions I need and a few items to make things more comfy here, but overall, I already have everything I need. Most particularly, unfettered access to him and the girls (who aren't home yet today but will be tonight).

For any of you who've been on bedrest at home, please share tips about making it easier. I already have a spectacular husband who's even more strict than I am about keeping me still, but I'm guessing there are little tricks of the trade that make this easier.

Hospital. But Okay.

This time I have potentially the best excuse ever for dropping off the face of the earth.  Three weeks ago I was admitted to the hospital for preterm labor and a shortening cervix.

The great news is that we staved off labor, my cervix eventually stabilized (though it's still quite short), and ultimately Baby Boy is still safe and sound in his ever-more cramped abode.  The cervical shortening had been progressing over the course of a few weeks before I was admitted. (Actually, the Monday prior involved a day long stay in L&D due to contractions and worry, but I was home on bedrest for the rest of that week.)

It was spotting (bright red and a couple of small clots) that send us running to L&D, and then once we got here, preterm labor followed within a couple of hours.  We had another episode the following morning.

I had about 52 hours of mag sulfate and full round of steroids (two doses) for Baby Boy over the first few days.  The morphine is what really seemed to do the trick to eventually space out the contractions, though.  My cervix shortened from an original 37 mm down to 13 about a week after my admitance.  But since then, it's stabilized and even increased by 1 mm at each of the last weekly ultrasounds, up to 15 mm.

I've had one other episode of pre-term labor last Sunday that nearly landed me back in L&D (versus antenatal, where I currently reside).  Tuesday evening was a little iffy, but I've learned a bit about how to relax and not go into a stress spiral that ramps things up.  We've also hypothesized that Baby Boy flipping completely (twice in the last week) may be enough stress on my uterus to trigger these rounds of contractions.  I like that notion better than the idea that my body is trying to go into labor and there's not much we can do about it.

No doubt about it, bedrest (especially the hospital variety) sucks just about as badly as you might suspect.  It's completely worth it, particularly when working, and I could not be more grateful that we're at 29 weeks tomorrow with a big, healthy baby - not a 26-weeker in the NICU who didn't get steroids or mag.

Patrick has been mindblowingly amazing.  (As a sidenote that's really worthy of a whole entry, Patrick was laid off the week before our wedding in a big reduction-in-force after 10 years with his company. He has a great severance package that's keeping us level, but we're anxious for his next career move to finalize.)  He's taken care of my every need and kept the girls so happy and well-cared for.  I'm amazed by him at every turn.

This week was spring break and he took Hannah and Caroline on a whole week-long adventure around town - the state history museum, an IMAX movie, parks, the zoo, one of those wall-to-wall trampoline places, a cavern.

Still, the hardest part of all of this by far has been the double-edged sword of worry over keeping Baby Boy safe; and the wholy unatural separation from my family.  I am not meant to be away from any of them and some days, the missing is so strong that it makes for a really tough go.

Also, hospital food sucks after a while. A short while.

In the next day or two I may actually be released to go home for bedrest until delivery, or until something else happens to bring us back.  This is nothing short of a miracle.  There are many other stories involved in all of this, but in order to get this post up, I'll suffice with this entry.

Please keep us in your prayers for more uneventfulness and eventually, a baby who's ready to come home without (too much) intervention.

Belly Pics!

I'm attempting this update from my phone, since that's where most of my belly pictures now reside, and since I figured that its the sort of technological advancement I should endeavor, given my career and lifestyle.

Still, it may go awry... Let's see, shall we?
This was taken around 18 weeks, and I'm near 20 now, so just add a bit to this in your imagination.

Hey, whaddaya know! It worked!

I realize the title says "pics" plural, but you have to let me progress at my own speed.

As far as a general health update, baby boy and I are both doing very well.  One of us is more neurotic than the other, but I'm not one to name names.  I've turned the corner on the weight loss and I'm now at -9, which is better than -12.  And we all know I'll make up every bit and then the 30 (screw 25) lbs. I'm meant to gain on top of that.

Baby Boy is really active and healthy and doing all the things he should be.  Thankfully, our new specialist "gets it" and earned a permanent place in my heart by giving me a more in-depth look last week to spare me from an emotional breakdown.  (There was a ton of movement, then there was less; add brusque tech with not much feedback, ergo: freakout.)

Life is good, if chaotic, and I'm smiling way more often than not.

It's a beautiful, HEALTHY baby... (UPDATED)

BOY! It's a boy!

!!!!!

He's super active and gorgeous and has perfect hands and feet, and was flexing and reaching and kicking.... (ahhhhhhh!)

The doctor was great. I asked that she do some additional scanning herself because I'm sure their techs are wonderful, but she's the expert. She discussed each of my pain points and it seems that there have been big improvements in diagnosing placental issues since last I gave birth.

At this point, there are no signs of arthrogryposis, but we'll scan again in two weeks to keep an eye on continued healthy development. In fact, she volunteered that she had no problem getting me in for a scan if I just needed a sanity check. Somehow, just that peace of mind means flip outs are less likely.

And, as an added bonus, if all goes well this healthy baby boy would be definitive proof that it was not the sex-linked form of fatal arthrogryposis that Thomas had, ergo: the girls are not carriers and neither am I!

Such wonderful news all around. Thank you all for your prayers and unflagging support. Now I'm off to woozle a few blue newborn onesies.
_________________________

Jenny F. Scientist astutely pointed out that I may be mistaken about the X-linked recessive inheritance, and what we can extrapolate from a healthy boy. Sadly, she's right (though I know she wishes I were the right one this time).

I re-read and shored up my knowledge, and it's a 50/50 chance for the X-linked recessive to be inherited by either boys or girls. Any boy who did inherit it would be lethally affected; any girl would be a carrier, and not display the traits of the disease. But it's totally possible to have both unaffected girls and boys.

For us, as we likely won't have another child, this simply means that we'll want to continue to monitor any scientific developments around the x-linked recessive, lethal form of arthrogryposis (there are two other non-lethal x-linked forms identified at this point) to see if they ever find the marker and develop a test for carriers.

Further, it would mean that THIS little boy did NOT inherit it. Which is still a big reason to celebrate!

A wee bit nervous

We have our first maternal fetal medicine appointment this afternoon. Everything has been going well - certainly NBHHY - but it's unavoidable that the errant flashback pops up now and then.

So prayers, please, for a nice, healthy baby with everything in its proper location and performing its proper function. This is our first visit to this particular doctor (my specialist in Houston isn't accepting my current insurance, but does accept what I'll have come January). Let's also hope she's competent and thorough... with a soft spot that causes her to give us lots of pictures and video.

I'll be 15 weeks tomorrow. Only Thomas, Hannah, and Caroline made it this far, so our odds are looking better and better.

A funny thing happened on our way to buying a house. *Updated*

Remember the house we were in the process of buying?  Remember how I said that all the frustrating delays were a sign that we should slow down and take a deep breath?  Well, I was right. In a way.  We did need to take a big breath.

But not in the achieve-zen-and-hunker-down-for-the-long-haul sense.  We needed that breath as the last gasp before a surreal and wonderful deep water dive.

Just days after writing that post, and just days before finally successfully closing on our new house, we discovered some huge, huge news: We were pregnant.

But wait, let me back up.  Lest you think this was a completely out-of-left-field shocker for us, I should do some 'splainin.  Last summer, just before our engagement, I noticed that at the end of each cycle, I was actually disappointed to find that my birth control had worked as intended and that I was not pregnant by some lovely fluke.  Patrick, too, had no bones about moving toward another child sooner rather than later.  I was convinced that with everything else going so well, conceiving and successfully gestating a human would be the one place where things were bound to go awry.  At the very least, it could take some serious time. And perhaps a surgery and some more invasive measures.

So after one final month where I had to will myself to take the pill, we decided to stop stopping a situation we very much wanted and see what happened.  We both knew that there was a chance something could happen sooner rather than later, but that was a risk we were willing to take.  I must say, though, when just two months (and one engagement and one house) later we found ourselves staring at a positive pregnancy test, I was honestly shocked.

And scared. And elated. And emotional.

It was a Friday, and that very day I called my RE and he fired off a lab slip for HCG and progesterone levels.  HCG was nice, but the progesterone was low (just as it had been for Hannah and Caroline, so apparently, that's just how my corpus lutei roll). I began supplements right away, and then attempted a more laid-back approach to packing my whole house and renovating a foreclosure. While I worked full-time. And parented three girls. And suddenly found myself planning a fall wedding.

Patrick has been a saint.  He's that guy that everyone dreams exists but never really thinks does.  He meets needs I didn't yet realize I had.  I really can't even explain it except to say that this journey so far has been entirely other-worldly, and I feel so so so blessed.

There's a lot more to the story, but at this point, I'm now 12 weeks 3 days, and we'll have our first trimester screen today.  It has been a scary journey so far, but in keeping with the sacred principle of NBHHY, well, NBHHY.  I've survived the worst fatigue I've ever experienced to date, nausea and a weight loss of 11 lbs. so far, and the trials of early pregnancy while moving, working, marrying, and parenting (but wait, there's more!).

And here's what we have to show for it!

______________________________

Update:

The ultrasound portion of the first trimester screening went great!  The baby was moving, but managed to sit still for the nuchal translucency measurements - which looked perfect. And we saw nice flat feet, waving hands, kicking legs, and just the right amount of meat on those perfect bones.  And, while you wouldn't want to go painting a room at 12 weeks 3 days, there seemed to be more of a "something" than a "nothing" in the bits department!!  Sweet Jebus, we might actually have a boy!!