Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Pregnancy Fail #999,999,999

So much fail in only 9 ish months.

Now, I get two doctor's appointments per week instead of one until baby comes. Now, I get to get two NST's per week.

The insulin is only working part time, because I APPARENTLY build up a rapid resistance. The solution? Keep upping the dose blindly every day.

My God. This needs to end. Please, thoughts and prayers that this baby comes before January 3 so that I don't lose my ever loving mind.

Also? The dog found huge stacks of baby clothes in one of the spare bedrooms--FRESHLY WASHED BABY CLOTHES--and proceeded to spread the clothes all over the house today. Upstairs, down stairs, the main level, in every bedroom, in every hall way. There were a lot of clothes (lots of hand me downs ).

Did I mention that a few weeks ago he got ahold of a brand new, full box of tissues, and proceeded to take out each and every tissue, one by one, and spread them all over the floor? He didn't even chew on them. He just took them and out them on the floor.

I can't wait to see how he reacts to baby. This should be epic.

Also, why did my font change mid post? I didn't touch anything.

FAIL.

Friday, December 16, 2011

Name Game

So long with no posts, and then two posts for you! This one is out of my drafts.

Names. Let me start by saying, we have a name picked out, and we can't/won't change it because:
1. We love it.
2. We bought letters and hung them up.
3. There are now two savings bonds in her name,
4. We love it.

Mama Vor and Vor's sister. We hung the letters of her name up in her nursery, and then we promptly put Christmas wrapping paper over the name. Mama Vor lives here and Vor's twin sister is coming into town this weekend, and well... they are curious people. Let's hope the wrapping paper stops them.

My Mom and Dad. More specifically, my mom. Dad doesn't really want to know. My Mom calls in this sad pathetic voice and tells me she is feeling down in the dumps today, and you know what would brighten her day right up? If I told her le bebe's name. No? What do you means no? How about her initials? The first letter of her first name? GOD GRACE YOU ARE SO UNREASONABLE.

My sister (and my nieces and nephews). My sister and her kids and husband are trying something new this year--they are all going on a cruise together for Christmas. Except... well, it's likely baby will come. My sister has invented this elaborate scheme where she stands by the captain of the ship, while it is pulling out of the port, blowing its departure horn, and then I
(A) Tell her the name;
(B) Tell her three possible names;
(C) tell her the initials; or
(D) tell her the letter of le bebe's name, and she can play word scramble on the cruise ship.

I am really tempted to do (D), because what she doesn't realize is that I will send her all the letter of all the names. First Name, Middle Name, Middle Name, Last Name. That's right, le bebe has two middle names, just like her daddy. I don't think my sister would ever figure it out, because I am not telling her that she has two middle names. And her first name is kind of long. Heh.

Me. I love her name. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to change it, and its how I think of her. But there is this little space in the back of my head that really wants this other name. I wanted to name her after my friend who was killed in the plane crash. Because she was funny and smart with a crazy sense of style and sweet, and because I miss her. Because it's a pretty name. I think it goes into the name drawer, if there's ever another baby. It stays on the top. I love the name and I want to use it, but it's just not le bebe's name. The name we picked out IS her name.

Besides, it's a name from my favorite Jane Austen novel, so how could you go wrong?

And thus, I give her a name for you--her blog name that is. You don't get her real name.

Her name on here is Lis.

As in L.I.S. As in "Little Irish Souvenir." That's my girl.

Sweet Sugar Baby

Still here. Still pregnant.

Just now, with gestational diabetes and taking insulin shots, which as I am sure you can imagine, has caused a several minor and major meltdowns on my part, since I am the no sugar queen.

There has been lots of "how the $&%@ did this happen to me?!?" which has resulted in two doctors and one nurse and one nutritional specialist telling me with a shrug, "It just happens. You couldn't have stopped it. Not your fault."

Sigh. Insulin shots it is, for the two weeks that is left of this pregnancy.

Funny thing is, I don't look like I have GD. I am not swollen at all. My face is really thin, thinner than usual. My rings fit, my shoes fit, I still have my regular ankles--hell, I still pretty much have my regular legs.

My sugar numbers are so borderline that my doctor was really hesitating to put me on the insulin at all--diet was controlling it just fine, except... except... except. There's my favorite word.

Except at night. My hormone levels would spike, which is the problem--I am producing some hormone that is blocking my insulin. So, after fasting for however many hours, I would wake up and my numbers were HIGHER than they were after dinner. Shoot, I could eat a piece of cake and I was fine! But let me go to sleep, and man, those number would shoot right up.

So, if I delivered le bebe during such a spike, it would be dangerous for her, thus insulin.

My placenta is trying to poison us.

I am supremely peeved. I tossed a mini fit last night about this whole thing. Vor, bless him, has been so patient and understanding.

My parents... meh. They've been okay. I can explain it to them, and they're like, "Oh. Ok. Whatever keeps you and baby healthy." But if I dare breathe a word of complaint (I mean, I am 8 1/2 months pregnant. I am allowed a small whine now and then, right? Especially if it is a whine done in good humor?), then I get from my mother one of the following options:

IT COULD BE WORSE JUST BE GRATEFUL.
IT COULD BE WORSE YOU COULD BE ON BEDREST BE GRATEFUL.
I ALMOST DIED AFTER I HAD YOU BE GRATEFUL.
THERE ARE STARVING CHILDREN IN AFRICA BE GRATEFUL.

Which, okay. But it makes me not want to call my my own mother and talk about my pregnancy.

I will say, I am impressed with the way technology has advanced since one of my great uncles had diabetes. I remember really long scary needles and lots of blood all the time. The jabber I stick myself with to test my numbers barely even registers as "I am being stuck" and the needle for insulin--I can't even feel it. It's kind of creepy, actually.

It's just that I have to do it at all.

I suppose the good news is that if le bebe has not shown her pretty little prune face by January 3, my due date, on Jan 4, baby will be making her grand entrance, like it or not, since they don't let people on insulin go late. I am still hoping for a December baby. Vor is hoping for a December baby. Our tax forms are hoping for a tax deduction December baby.

In other news in one paragraph, there has been lots of upheaval in my work life, which has resulted in a very busy very stressed Grace, but stressed in a good way. In fact, the last month and a half has been a complete blur, all thanks to work.