Playing Hide & Seek

My heart beat monitor arrived just before Valentine's day. We desperately tried to find the right spot to hear that beautiful "boom boom boom," but we were simply not in luck. Valentine's day was great. My husband (I suppose I should give his name), Jason brought me flowers, a card and took me out to dinner. When we got home he handed me a little bag. In the bag was a card for the baby wishing a happy Valentine's Day and two little wrist rattles. Baby's first real toy! I was so excited that Jason thought of the baby. I was so excited that next Valentine's Day I would be holding that baby. Ok, I was just excited!

Our first appointment with the new OBGYN, Dr. Chacon was scheduled for Feb 28th. As usual I walked into the office with a huge chip on my shoulder. Ready and willing to lash him with my new found, protective mommy-viper tongue at the first sign of trouble. Kolbalter must have tipped him off because Chacon was very nice, sweet and understanding. The only reference he made to my weight was to tell me it would be difficult to see me "showing baby belly" as I got further along. DUH! (Fat people aren't all in denial) and in complete wonder told me that I had lost another 5 lbs. What can I say, the baby is hungry.

We got to listen again to the beautiful sound of the heart and talked about any concerns I had, he had, we had about possible complications. I was concerned about passing on Psoriasis. He wasn't. He was concerned about gestational diabeties. I wasn't. He asked me to take one of those tolerance tests anyway. Ok, fine. He gave me a lab slip and after all the "getting to know you" stuff was done he sent us to another room for a checkup sonogram.

I was expecting to see the sex of the baby. Look for that "christmas tree" or "taco" right? NO. Our sweet little soon to be bundle was hidng. Not only hiding, but turning away from the pressure the technician applied when she pushed and pulled the wand accross my belly. The legs were pulled up so tight. The hands were actually covering the privates!! AAGGHH! I said," What a little stinker!" My husband (smartass) said," Just like Mommy!" We recieved our picture printouts, were told that the baby was right on schedule and headed home.

Three new pictures of BABY! I carried them all over the place with me, showing them to anyone who was willing to put up with me. I am sure I drove people crazy. Hmm. I guess I don't care. I was so happy and proud.

The next morning, after fasting as directed, I headed for the lab for the tolerance test. The lady handed me this little bottle of sparkling water, told me to drink it then I was to sit for an hour before I got my blood drawn. Ok. I drank it. Ick, Icky Ickiest! The same guy who thought up the mamogram must have invented this potion from hell. I sat in the lab and started to get dizzy. The lab lady said, don't worry. You'll be fine. I didn't feel fine. I thought I was going to fall over! This is nuts. The dizziness started to subside. She drew the blood and sent me on my way. I remember leaving the lab thinking " Thank God I only have to do this once!" We got a call from the doctor's nurse a couple days later. Blood sugar level was 89. She sounded surprised. Not all fat people are diabetic! Good lord, when will doctors learn.

A week passed. Then it happened. THE KICK. No flutter, no butterfly (still had bad potato cravings though). This was a real, honest to goodness kick! I danced all over the room, singing and screaming and gushing with joy. I called Jason at work. I called my mom, my friends, my grandma, my aunt....I even told the telemarketer that called a few hours later! THE BABY WAS KICKING! Woo Hoo. That night Jason and I sat on the bed and listened to the heartbeat at home. We called his parents and made them listen over the phone. We called my parents and did the same. I took the monitor to my grandmother's house the next day and made her listen to it too. All this time the baby was kicking and dancing in my belly. JOY. Unfortunately, the baby wasn't kicking for Jason. This really started to get to him. He was trying to hide it, but I could tell that he really wanted to be a part of my joy. It was another month before Jason could feel the kicks.

Papa. Jason's grandfather. A sweet old Italian with a love for the ladies and a sweet disposition. In fact, after our wedding I recieved grinning, but chagrinned reports of him "hugging" the ladies a little tight. Even my grandma!! It always makes me smile, and none of them really minded either. I knew about his special hugs, I have received several. Anyway, Papa wasn't doing well so we drove to Napa to visit him.

I started to feel a pain. A pain I never really had before. The drive lasted about 5 hours or so. The worst part was driving down I80 between Sacramento and Napa. That part of the highway needs some serious care. Bumpy, rough and uncomfortable, but pain didn't come from my belly. Nope, I had my very first hemmorroid. Not a little discomfort. Nope. I am talking about can't-sit-down, burning, swelling, crying, pleading with God to make it go away kind of discomfort. I didn't realize that my butt was so vindictive!! I was just trying to support my husband. Visit a relative, show my love. So why the hell was my butt attacking me?!? Walking hurt, sitting hurt, THINKING HURT. I called the doctor as soon as we got to Napa. Begging him to give me a magical cure. Nope. Just wash it, don't strain in the bathroom and put some witch hazel on it. Ok, witch hazel. That has gotta fix it right? The cure. A homeopathic cure, safe for the baby. I can do this.

OH MY GOD!! The burning, stinging, screaming. We were staying at a relatives house and while I lay on the bed in the spare room and Jason following doctors orders tortured me with this witch hazel (properly named) I screamed so loud that people came running. This wasn't normal. No way! Jason's mom came in and told us to put a warm cloth over the hemmorroid to ease the pain. It worked, a little. She wanted to look at it. Jeez, why the hell not. Sure, I have no shame. Take pictures and we can send them in the Christmas card!! She said it was a really bad one. Bigger than she has ever seen. She told me to relax, take it easy and lay on my side. I did. I took a three hour nap. When I woke up, it was better. A little better, but it still hurt like hell.

The rest of the visit went well. Papa seemed ok, but having just lost my grandfather made the visit difficult for me. Pregnancy emotions are like riding an out of control roller coaster. I hugged a lot of people, smiled a lot and tried my best to keep things "on the bright side." There was a lot of talk about the pregnancy, naming the baby and so on. It was pleasant and comforting to be among family, and that the family was excited about the baby too.


To my surprise( after posting a begging plea for friendship on one of the parenting sites) I found a couple of girls in my area who were also expecting first timers. Granted, they lived the next town over, but it was only a 20 minute drive. We started our relationships just chatting and emailing back and forth about concerns and worries. These girls were all a few years younger than I but we bonded well enough to rely on each other. Crystal, due in September. Jen, due in late July.