A reading start to 2013

I love to read. Unfortunately, I do not always have a good stack of books on hand to go through, and when I do, I seldom find enough time to read more than one a month or every other month. This year, however, brought both time and material for my enjoyment. Being on bed rest meant I could indulge more in flipping through the pages of a good novel, and recommendations from friends led me to wonderful books that provided me with education, enlightenment and entertainment.

Here is what I read in January and a favorite quote from each book.

 The Rent Collector

"The most difficult battles in life are those we fight within." ~ Chinese proverb

The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry 

"It surprised him that he was remembering all this. Maybe it was the walking. Maybe you saw even more than the land when got out of the car and used your feet."

Angry Housewives Eating Bonbons

"Life is like a bowl of spaghetti, it's still good even when it's all tangled up."









Letters for Emily

"Follow your dreams, make your best choices, and peace will come as you realise that you are on the best path for yourself. Your journey is unique. What is nourishment to others, may in fact be poison to you. Have dreams, but be content with your journey."

This is bed rest

I miss the everyday things, the ordinary, the mundane. The daily showers, the regular change of outfits, the looking in the mirror.
I miss the routine, the daily chores, the responsibilities and expectations. The dishes, the laundry, the cleaning.
I miss traffic, driving and red lights. The crazy drivers, the jay walkers, the cop cars.
I miss being agitated at Jeff when he leaves me waiting outside his office when I am there to pick him up, and taking longer to get ready in the morning when I am driving him to work to keep the car.
I miss JR's cooking classes, ceramic painting outings, story times, music shows, and park dates.
I miss getting her dressed, giving her a bath, making her meals.
I miss grocery shopping, refilling water, going to the Lebanese store.
I miss the bank, the post office, the dry cleaners, the phone and Internet billing offices. The mall, the carousel, the courtyard. The museums, the zoo, the open air.
I miss coffee shops, breakfast joints, lunches, and dinner dates.
I miss road trips, mini-vacations, weekends away. The early mornings, late afternoons and long days out of the apartment.
I miss yoga, talking walks, pushing the stroller.
I miss carrying my child, lifting her off her feet in dancing, joining her on the floor for playing, running after her in the hallway, holding her hand on the street.
I miss my metabolism, my digestive system, my dry lips and chapped hands.
I miss my winter coat, my warm shoes, my new gloves.
I miss society, I miss nature.
I miss myself.

Yes, I have read four books in twenty days, kept up with my blog, watched Murder, She Wrote, 30 Rock, Everybody Loves Raymond and The Wonder Years. I have slept and rested and relaxed. I have been waited on and assisted in every possible way. I have had breaks from my daughter, from my house, from my primary role. I put my feet up and sit all day. I stare at a screen, look at my phone, check my accounts. I rotate between the TV, the computer, the iPad. I flip through my book, write in my journal, take notes on my pad. I have had an extra long time away from things people try to leave behind, hire someone else to do, or wish they did not have to take care of. When I look at my to-do-list, I see nothing there. My list is for others; I just steer from the couch, or the bed. From the outside looking in, this do-nothing life style might seem appealing, tempting, attractive.

But, no. It is not. I would gladly give it up, walk away, take it back for a chance to be with Jannah-Rae when she is laughing, learning, playing outside of these four walls. To be able to see what she sees at the same time she sees it. To be able to answer her questions, lead her to safety, couch her on society. I would like to sit across from my husband at dinner, go on drives, share a yoga class. I would love to go back to the way things used to be fourteen weeks ago, but alas, the past is the past, and this is the present. This is my life now. My life for a few more weeks. If I can hang in there, I know the prize will be worth it in the end. I have not come this far to give up, and I will not give up. But I need reminders. My writing is my greatest reminder.

Counting Down to Baby! 32 weeks!

High Risk Pregnancy "Favorite" Things ~ 5

in alphabetical order....

 



 

A delivery date ~ An unexpected call from my OB's office at 5:02 on Wednesday informed me that my C-section had been scheduled for Monday, March 11th at 2:00pm.
I know my OB and I had discussed scheduling the surgery, I just did not know he had pinned down a date and time.
Talk about a surprise!

No more drug refills ~ I am down to my last prescription from being a walking pharmacy in the past weeks. And, in a couple of weeks, I will completely drug free; at least until post surgery!
Until the baby is born, I will no longer need to keep track of when I took my previous pill,
wake up in the middle of the night to take another,
or suffer the consequences of not having taken a third.
I do not have to worry about JR finding the pills and mistakenly popping one in,
or about dropping one on the floor and having to bend down to reach it,
or about timing my call to the pharmacy to get the refill in time.

Last visit to the MFM office ~ They have done everything they canfor me and from here on after I am on my own. When I went in on October 17th for an anatomy scan,
we walked out with heavy hearts and worried minds.
The January 15th visit, however, stood in direct contrast. We walked in with no expectations and walked out with light hearts and eased minds.
The journey is far from over, but at least we now are through the heavy woods.

The public library ~ The most trusted way to get the books I needed to keep me entertained during this dragging time. While only a small percentage of the books I check out end up on my shortlist, the service the library provides has been instrumental,
both to me and to Jannah-Rae.
From the comfort of my bed or couch I look books up, put them on hold,
request they be delivered to the nearest branch, and wait until my mother picks them up.

Sundays ~ These are the days that mark the passage of time. Every Sunday that passes, my baby grows another week, and with every Sunday we move closer to a full-term pregnancy.
Sundays used to stamp the end of a week, now they usher in the beginning.

Happy new year

We are only 15 days into the new year and yet all it has brought has been happy news.

• I am still pregnant
• My cerclage is holding up, my cervix is still "long" and my uterus lining is thick
• I do not have gestational diabetes
• I saw the maternal fetal medicine doctor for the last time yesterday
• Our family is entirely up-to-date on vaccinations, so no more shots before the baby comes
• I pre-registered at the hospital for the baby's birth, and scheduled the delivery for 39 weeks
• The construction work on our patio is finally done and we have our "play room" back
• It has been a mild winter so far
• My mother-in-law will be helping us for two weeks, which gets me to 34 weeks
• Jeff started his last doctoral semester
• JR tunred 3 surrounded by friends and family
• I managed to cook some meals for my family, with plenty of help prepping and cleaning up 

While I am sure life will surprise us plenty in the days to come, having these positive landmarks to look back on will make the journey more pleasant and enjoyable.

Happy New Year!

The Story: What happens next: Pelvic Reconstructive Surgery

The long winding road brought us to rest in the surgeon’s waiting room. It was time to come face to face with reality and lay it all out on the table. My uterus was damaged and surgery was our only saving grace. Whether or not Jeff and I wanted more children, I had to undergo a pelvic reconstructive surgery; I just could not go on living with an unhealed organ.

The surgery would be performed robotically from the outside looking in. Through the use of a minimally-invasive surgical procedure, I was told I would emerge with no more scars on my belly than I already had. Unfortunately, when I was laid on the table and the measurements were taken, three more incision holes had to be created to allow the proper performance of the operation. What I now boast is a bullet-hole belly reminding me daily of my previous hardships.

The operation was performed by the former Vice Chairman and Director of Urogynecology and Vaginal Reconstructive Surgery at Georgetown University Hospital. He is trained in pelvic surgery and experienced in robotics and is widely published. All these qualifications were designed to put our minds at ease that we were in “good” hands. But when you are under the “butcher’s” knife, nothing you are told can comfort you. But we had to push through with the surgery without further delays. So, after checking with the surgeon and my OB’s schedulers we were given two possible dates to choose from. Those then had to be lined up with Jeff’s schedule, my mom’s schedule and his mom’s schedule. I would be in recovery for at least four weeks and needed at-home support and assistance during that time.

On the day prior to the surgery I had some physical, and mental preparations, to undergo.  I was required to cleanse my system with the help of foul tasting drinks and pills, fast for hours before the surgery and come in high spirits. I successfully completed the first two parts of the assignment but failed miserably at the third. The integrity of my uterus was on the table and until it emerged repaired on the other side, there was no rest for me.

The surgery took longer than anticipated. When originally it was supposed to be a “routine” procedure for the surgeon, it apparently proved to be more challenging that he had anticipated. If I remember correctly, I was “under” for over two hours. Did I mention they even had a urologist in the operating room! I had a whole team of highly qualified MDs at my side while I lay unconscious to their presence. Luckily, all the urologist had to do was bill for his time in surgery; his skills were not put to the test that day.

When the surgeon’s role was over, my body’s role began. External intervention and modern medicine had done all they could to grant me future chances at child bearing, now it was up to my body to heal itself towards that end; it had 9 months to do so.

During these 9 months, little and lots happened. JR turned two, I gradually went back to yoga, Jeff got promoted and life carried on. We celebrated small victories and big milestones. We played with friends, visited with family and spent time together doing nothing.

Shortly after the surgery, we packed and left for a family Thanksgiving in MN. It was a wonderful visit and a great gathering. JR “helped” pack our bags and made sure we had all the necessities. During the dinner, she “toasted” a “new” beginning and a year ahead full of hope. She had a great time being the center of attention, and I had an even greater time not being the center of attention. I had received more than my share of being “tended” to in the last couple of years that it was refreshing being able to take a back seat and be a spectator instead of being the lead actor.

Upon our return we put our trials behind us and moved on. We headed to Virginia Beach in December and in January went back to the radiology lab for one final sonohysterogram. When the results of that showed that our journey was marked with success, we marveled at the gift and looked forward to the summer when we could start trying for another addition to our family.

Winter turned into Spring and then Summer brought a fourth pregnancy. It is this pregnancy that leads us back to The Way the Story Ends. How will the story end? We are hopeful that it will end with a healthy baby, a healthy mama, and little or no time in the NICU.  

all packed!

JR toasting a "new" beginning

Counting Down to Baby: 31 weeks