Reporting From the Trenches

Tomorrow is my birthday...I will be 33....is that considered my mid-thirties?  Scary.  I still feel 25 somehow. 

I'm hanging in over here.  Somewhat.  Some days are better than others.  I saw the OB a few weeks ago and the look on her face was priceless when she walked into the room and saw me.  If only I had a camera.  The appointment itself was uneventful unless you count the fact that I talked her out of giving me my pap (score!).  We had a conversation about Ben's sperm and the effect of the chemo.  She said the sperm that impregnated me would have been created about two months prior which would put us well outside of the range of his chemo treatments.  That certainly put my mind at ease.  She said that men tend to recover from these things quicker and easier than women and didn't even seem surprised that it had happened at all.

The doctor also said that at twelve weeks I will be transferred back to the high risk practice.  I wasn't surprised by this but asked her why that was the case.  She said that my delivery had been complicated and this one needed to be handled by them as well.  I told her that was news to me.  While pretty much everything about that pregnancy was difficult, it seemed the delivery was the most simple part.  I don't recall Dr. Mo making any sort of comments about its difficulty.  Now, that being said, the planning for that delivery involved a lot of complications.  If you recall, they were very concerned I would lose my uterus due to placenta accreta (where the placenta burrows deep into the muscle or scar tissue from my previous procedures).  There were plans to insert balloons in my groin to cut off all the blood supply to my uterus so that I wouldn't loose too much blood.  A second IV line was inserted prior to my c-section just in case a blood transfusion was required (by a person who was in no way good at putting in IV's I might add).  There was also the newly developed Nelson stitch created just for me.  However, I didn't get the balloons because of the hour of my c-section.  I also didn't need a blood transfusion and I didn't lose my uterus, obviously.  My recovery was a piece of cake, in fact, I hardly even remember it to be honest. 

I'm certainly not upset that I'm being transferred back.  I really liked all the doctors there and they were very, very good at what they did.  My regular OB said they will certainly remember me because I was such a "unique and interesting" case.  If I had a nickel.....  I think Dr. G is just going to shake her head at me.  I should definitely have my camera handy.

Going in a bit of a different direction....

I'm nine weeks even today and feeling pretty crummy.  Week seven was a breeze and I thought, "Huh, maybe this time will be different".  Ha!  A few days into week eight found me confined to bed, puking my guts out all day.  So, I'm pretty much feeling the same as I did with Ellie.  Well, except for one really weird symptom that is new.  My feet are mad, crazy itchy.  I guess this is common but it makes me nuts.  I told Ben I'm going to pay someone just to itch my feet all day long.  While I haven't had any certain proof that this baby is still alive, I'm not stressing too much about it right now.  I see the regular OB one last time at the end of January and she will listen for the heartbeat then.  If she can't find it, they will send me over for an u/s right then.  I will be just about twelve weeks at that point so it will make me feel a lot better.

So that is what is up over here.  Mostly, I'm just trying to survive and get through this rough part of the pregnancy.  I can't wait to be able to function normally again.  I miss my husband and my kids even though we are in the same house.  I just have to keep telling myself that this will end eventually.