Squidlet update
Week 34 and ticking...
Or rather, bonking about madly. I woke up at 5 this morning to a wild squidparty in the womb and instead of my usual amusement at all the kicking and roiling could not stop thinking about fish out of water, gasping and flopping about in the dry. At least he's active, and the heartbeat is strong, but I can't help but be concerned. Yesterday's appointment showed decreased amniotic fluid again (from a level of 4 or 5 when they put me in to the hospital last Wednesday, to 9.6 when they let me out Thursday, to 8.6 when they checked me yesterday morning - they'd like to see something more like 12 or 13, and no, I have no idea what these numbers mean either, outside of constituting a general range from in-the-hospital to just-fine) despite the fact that I have been drinking so much I practically slosh, so I continue to be on "modified bed rest." I have a whole list of questions in to the doctor to try and discern exactly what this entails, but it seems to involve a lot of actual lying down, which is not my forte. Sitting, yes. Lying down, not so much.
Part of the problem is that we left a lot of things to the last month and a half - with the holidays, and then Himself gone on business for all of January, February was really our window in which to go to prenatal classes, find childcare, and tie up a lot of loose ends. So now there are loose ends everywhere, and my work is expanding to fill the available (or unavailable) space, and I'm supposed to lie down a lot. We also aren't sure, with the noises about induction, when the squid will arrive - and we really don't have anything ready for him, as the babywarming party was/is scheduled for the end of February, and we haven't taken any classes (and now I don't know if I can, what with all the lying down I'm supposed to be doing) and my parents are now scheduled to be out of town visiting my brother for a week in early March, so they may miss the birth, and it's all really a bit more of a mess than I can gracefully cope with. Please note the modifier; I can cope with many a mess, but whatever grace I had on this one is dwindling.
I wake up each morning and look in the mirror and my belly says to me, "In a mere few weeks your life will change forever." I don't know about you, but that's a hard thing for me to hear before coffee. I had just about gotten used to being pregnant, but that was still really just me - great-bellied and tired, but me. Now my reflection tells me: "In just a little while, you will no longer be the most important person in your own life." I knew this - I've had eight months to get used to the idea - but it's still terrifying in its imminence. "No!" I want to say. "Wait! I'm not ready!" I woke up this morning feeling fussy and anxious and whiny, and read a book for a few hours before getting up, until I felt ready to face the world. What will I do when there is someone more fussy and anxious and whiny than I to take care of?
Hold me, I'm scared.
Or rather, bonking about madly. I woke up at 5 this morning to a wild squidparty in the womb and instead of my usual amusement at all the kicking and roiling could not stop thinking about fish out of water, gasping and flopping about in the dry. At least he's active, and the heartbeat is strong, but I can't help but be concerned. Yesterday's appointment showed decreased amniotic fluid again (from a level of 4 or 5 when they put me in to the hospital last Wednesday, to 9.6 when they let me out Thursday, to 8.6 when they checked me yesterday morning - they'd like to see something more like 12 or 13, and no, I have no idea what these numbers mean either, outside of constituting a general range from in-the-hospital to just-fine) despite the fact that I have been drinking so much I practically slosh, so I continue to be on "modified bed rest." I have a whole list of questions in to the doctor to try and discern exactly what this entails, but it seems to involve a lot of actual lying down, which is not my forte. Sitting, yes. Lying down, not so much.
Part of the problem is that we left a lot of things to the last month and a half - with the holidays, and then Himself gone on business for all of January, February was really our window in which to go to prenatal classes, find childcare, and tie up a lot of loose ends. So now there are loose ends everywhere, and my work is expanding to fill the available (or unavailable) space, and I'm supposed to lie down a lot. We also aren't sure, with the noises about induction, when the squid will arrive - and we really don't have anything ready for him, as the babywarming party was/is scheduled for the end of February, and we haven't taken any classes (and now I don't know if I can, what with all the lying down I'm supposed to be doing) and my parents are now scheduled to be out of town visiting my brother for a week in early March, so they may miss the birth, and it's all really a bit more of a mess than I can gracefully cope with. Please note the modifier; I can cope with many a mess, but whatever grace I had on this one is dwindling.
I wake up each morning and look in the mirror and my belly says to me, "In a mere few weeks your life will change forever." I don't know about you, but that's a hard thing for me to hear before coffee. I had just about gotten used to being pregnant, but that was still really just me - great-bellied and tired, but me. Now my reflection tells me: "In just a little while, you will no longer be the most important person in your own life." I knew this - I've had eight months to get used to the idea - but it's still terrifying in its imminence. "No!" I want to say. "Wait! I'm not ready!" I woke up this morning feeling fussy and anxious and whiny, and read a book for a few hours before getting up, until I felt ready to face the world. What will I do when there is someone more fussy and anxious and whiny than I to take care of?
Hold me, I'm scared.
posted by The Stute Fish at 08:14
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