Frustration and fear

Due to the fact that people with CF are not supposed to be in close physical contact with each other (because of the risk of cross-contamination of the many bacteria that inhabit our lungs), there is a pretty strong online support community. I will admit that I do not participate in this community because I honestly find it more depressing than helpful. A visit to a person's Facebook page or blog leaves no doubt that they have CF, that they hate it, and that it's all they want to talk about. I do not hide the fact that I have CF but... I don't define myself by it and I don't let it consume me. Perhaps I would be wise to focus on it more because, honestly, until recently, I've never made a life decision with even a second thought to the fact that I have CF, and maybe there are some things I should have thought through more carefully (going to Costa Rica without meds?). Part of that is because I've been blessed with very good health, but I think it's also due to the way my parents raised us as if we were normal and could do anything that anyone else could do. But, either way, I simply don't like to spend time whining about CF and feeling sorry for myself.

So, in spite of my recent posts and at the risk of my blog turning into a CF gripe fest that I hate, and despite the fear that someone stumbling upon my blog would think that CF consumes my blog and my life, I go ahead with the following post because I find writing therapeutic ... 

As I said above, I try to keep a positive attitude towards my health. I don't think it benefits anyone to ask "why me?". But I also don't think I'd be blamed for being a bit down lately. The truth is I am frustrated and scared.

I'm frustrated that I can't be there for my family in the way I want to be. I set high standards for myself, and I recognize that, but it's very frustrating to not have the energy to do the things I want. Recently Drew, who has always had nothing but great reports from his teachers, has been having some "off days" at school and I hate the fact that it's because of me. I know that's a lot of blame to put on myself, but it's not a secret that kids often struggle when their parents are ill. Between the lack of energy, and the time being put into getting better, plus the fact that Jason has to pick up the slack on everything else around the house, there's not as much attention to go around for the kids. James, too, has been quite clingy and fussy lately. I'm happy to sit and cuddle with James, but it's not so easy with Drew. Because he LOVES to talk and be listened to, I decided Drew could really use some one-on-one time so I took him on a date this week. Unfortunately it ended up being on the day of my follow-up CF appointment that went all wrong. They wanted me to do a chest CT scan that day and I refused because I wasn't going to miss my date with my son. But even still, I had to deal with pharmacy calls for the new IV antibiotics on our way to lunch. Once we got there I put my phone on silent and decided I could handle the voice mails when our lunch was over. Drew was just a little over the moon at having lunch at the airport where we watched planes taking off and we even saw a really looooong train go by!

As if that's not enough to be frustrated about, I find myself incredibly frustrated by the fact that I feel like I'm not in control. I've always been able to achieve what I set my mind to do. From high grades in school, to having two natural births, to running a half marathon, to cloth diapering... once I set my mind to something, I am usually successful. I have set my mind to get healthier and so far I've failed. No, I don't really label it as a failure, but the perfectionist and control freak in me has a really hard time dealing with the fact that I am not fully in control of this situation. In the past when I've had dips in lung function I get a little more serious about doing my meds and exercising and I bounce right back. Now it feels like my effort is getting me nowhere and that's frustrating. I have been doing all my medicines religiously. I've agreed to do this exhausting and frustrating IV thing. I had a sinus surgery done. I've been researching other things I can do to improve my health (best diet, supplements that are beneficial, etc.). I've been trying so very hard to get out and exercise. I have never put this much effort into something and not gotten the results I expected.

And that's what leads to the fear. Cystic fibrosis is scary- it's a degenerative disease with no cure. Not having control over it terrifies me. I touched on it briefly above, but here's a fact you may not know about cystic fibrosis: people with CF are susceptible to bacterial infections that "normal people" are not susceptible to. Research has found that these bacteria, once in the lungs of a person with CF (lungs that are lined with thicker, stickier mucus making it easy to catch these bacteria in the first place), behave differently and form almost impenetrable shells making them incredibly difficult, if not impossible, to kill. Cystic fibrosis treatments focus on managing the colonies of these bacteria in our lungs so we are constantly on various oral and inhaled antibiotics, and occasionally require IV antibiotics. Pseudomonas aeuruginosa is one of the most common bacteria, and one that I myself culture (ie. grows from sputum cultures I give... even though that's just as cryptic, I won't give any more details than that*). Recently I've also been culturing MRSA. While neither of these are as scary as burkholderia cepacia, they certainly wreak enough of their own havoc. I've cultured pseudomonas for so long (since high school? Maybe even earlier?) that I've never thought much about it, but it's finally getting my attention and it's scary. [Note: this is my non-scientist understanding of very complicated sciencey things].

So I'm frustrated and I'm scared, but I am thankful that I have doctors who don't just look at this as "typical CF." Yes, we are expected to lose lung function as we age, but my doctors know this isn't typical for me and are trying to get to the bottom of it. Some of the possibilities are just as scary (CF-related diabetes), but I'm just hopeful it's something I can do something about so I can feel in control again. 

And in the meantime, I can't forget that I have an amazing support group. I have my amazing husband who works so hard and does so much it's really too much to even describe. I have my sister and as much as it sucks that she has to go through this too, it's nice to have each other when CF can be such a lonely disease. I have amazing parents that taught me that I am normal and to fully live my life, and who also come to my side at the drop of a hat (my mom is cutting a trip to Canada short in order to fly here on Monday to help out. She went to visit my grandma for her birthday and she'll be leaving ON her birthday. :( My Grandma is pretty awesome and understanding too!). I have so many friends that, in spite of everything they have going on, are happy to help out when called on. And I have an amazing God. Others might ask the "why me?" questions or even play the blame game; instead, I truly believe God works in His own mysterious ways that we may never understand on this side of heaven. Right now I believe He's trying to get my attention and I fully trust His plan for me. He is my rock and comfort in these difficult times and I relax in the knowledge that He loves and cares for me.

Proverbs 3:5-8 Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. Do not be wise in your own eyes; fear the Lord and shun evil. This will bring health to your body and nourishment to your bones.

*Anything that I "won't give any more details" about is only as protection for those reading. As CF has a lot to do with "gross things", like mucus, I worry I'll gross people out. But I am never offended when people ask questions and I'm very open if I know you want to know more. So, please feel free to ask questions if you're ever curious!

Wordless Wednesday: Bug therapy

Shoo fly

You don't have to know me very well to know that I'm scared of bugs. Not just girly-girl, ew I don't like them, but verging on a full-fledged phobia. It's irrational and uncontrollable.

Here are just two examples to highlight my point:

When Stacey and I stayed in Costa Rica we lived with a small family- a grandmother (between 65 and 70) and three of her granddaughters. Well, I woke up the entire family one night after waking up with a cockroach on my arm. Yes, a cockroach. On my ARM! The grandmother came in to my hysterical, sobbing shouts of "la cucaracha!" (Did you know that wasn't just a song?) There I was, nearly 20 years-old, standing on a bed and crying because of a bug.

Then this past year there was an incident at work. I was walking in early one morning, saying a friendly hello to a fellow teacher. My department is more-or-less separate from the school so I really only knew the teachers in passing. The gentleman and I parted ways as I walked into my office, turned on the light, and shrieked as a cockroach/large beetle flew across my path. I tried to duck past it then screamed bloody murder as it took flight again. My friendly colleague came running into my office asking if everything was all right. I had to embarrassingly explain that no, I was not being murdered, it was, in fact, only a bug. Relieved the man went to return to his classroom but I sheepishly had to ask him if he could please help me kill it.

These are just two examples. Almost everyone I know has a "remember when" story involving me and bugs (I guess normal people don't shriek and flail when they see something small and black moving?) and I have many MANY more tales I could share myself, most involving frantic flailing and tears.

I have tried, and failed, to keep this fear hidden from Drew, but as I said before, it's irrational and uncontrollable; a fly buzzes past my ear and I shriek and duck before I realize what I'm doing. I'm not even scared of flies, but my brain hears a buzz and apparently thinks my body is under attack. So it's no wonder Drew has developed his own fear of bugs; when you see someone you trust and depend on freaking out, I'm guessing you'd assume there's a pretty good reason to freak out. Problem is I'm afraid he's going to be even worse than me.

The other night at dinner I saw something tiny bobbing beneath our light fixture. "Is that a bug?" I (calmly!) asked Jason, not sure if it was a fruit fly or just a speck of floating dust (we've been ordering weekly boxes of fresh produce so it wouldn't have been a surprise if a fruit fly made it's way in with the harvest). "That?" Jason asked as he swatted at it. "Yes, it's a fruit fly." Cue wailing screams. We both turn, surprised, to find Drew, tears in eyes, on his way into full meltdown mode. "Shoot it!" he shouted."Shoot it! Shoot it!" he wailed. (No, he didn't actually mean shoot it. We taught him last summer, when he freaked out over flies, to just wave his arms and say, "shoo fly!"). We both looked at him in shock. I mean, I am the queen of flipping out over bugs, but here was Drew, outdoing me, over a fruit fly! Jason clapped his hands in the air, "there, I got it!" but Drew continued wailing, almost hyperventilating, "no, use that!" as he gestured towards our forgotten flyswatter. I got the flyswatter, waved it in the air a few times and proclaimed that the bug was gone and we were safe. "Where is it on that??" Drew worriedly asked until I pretended to dump the fruit fly off the flyswatter into the trash. For the rest of the meal Drew would talk and play then suddenly his face would go stone-cold as he would whip his head around to stare under the light fixture and ensure that there were no more flies.

As if that wasn't enough, Drew woke up screaming and crying that night. When I went into his room he was wailing, half asleep, "I don't like the bugs outside!". I had to wake him and reassure him that there were no bugs.

Okay guys... What do I do? I know from personal experience this is not something that can be rationalized away. I don't care how many times you tell me they're small and won't hurt me, it doesn't change the fact that I'm deathly afraid. Logically I know (most) won't harm me, and, of course, I'm much MUCH larger and smarter than them, and even some bugs are good, but I can't control my reactions (did I tell you about the time I nearly threw Drew when he was a baby because of an earwig on my arm?) so how is he supposed to control his? I don't want him to share my fear! I want to teach him bugs are okay; there's just no possible way for me to be near a bug (besides a fruit fly) and act normal.

I'm thinking of buying some fun books about bugs. Any other suggestions?

On the edge

Unfortunately we're not talking Lady Gaga's kind of "on the edge".... we're talking on the edge of going crazy... or having a complete and utter meltdown kind of edge. One or the other.

These last two weeks have been a lot of fun, but they have been so totally and completely exhausting that I'm not even sure what to do with myself.

Let's see... Tuesday (like two weeks ago Tuesday) I was cleaning the house because family was coming to town, Wednesday was Drew's birthday, Thursday was his one-year photo shoot (have you seen Cassie's gorgeous photos?) and packing to head to the lakehouse, Friday I was preparing for Drew's bigger-than-I-had-kinda-planned-on bash, Saturday was the big party, Sunday we packed up and headed home from the lakehouse, Monday Stacey and I ran the Peachtree Road Race 10K, Tuesday I was packing for Chicago, Wednesday we flew to Chicago, Thursday we drove to Wisconsin and back, Friday we spent the day in the ER (poor Drew caught a nasty stomach bug!), Saturday we spent the day with a recovering baby, Sunday me, Jason, my mom, and dad all got sick with that bug, then today, Monday, I flew home (alone!) with Drew (Jason had already flown home on Saturday).

It would be nice if I had a day or two to recover from all of that, but I will be up bright and early to head back to work tomorrow, and work will be a mad house.  Maybe you think I'm just being all "woe is me" right now?  I got a call from work today asking me if I could stay late tomorrow because it was CRAZY today. Our office has been closed the last two weeks so there are hordes of impatient, irritated people waiting to register their students for the upcoming school year (which starts the second week of August!).

And I won't even be able to help them out tomorrow because I have CF appointment after work (which will take even longer than if I had stayed late; I've already griped about how long these appointments are). Between sheer exhaustion and the stomach bug I'm not sure that lung function or weight will be where they need to be.

And then, as if that wasn't enough to drive a woman off a cliff, Drew has been battling me every. single. meal. He hardly eats. He hardly drinks. I'm worried sick about him getting proper nutrition and hydration, especially after that horrible bug. I would like to think he's just recovering and his stomach isn't quite back to normal, but this has really been going on for a couple of weeks. It's just gotten worse. I presume part of it IS the recovering from the bug, and another part is the picky toddler years, but.... I just don't know what to do. It's brought me to tears the past 3 nights. I've totally given up on the vegetable battle for now, I'm just trying to get him to eat and drink. Period.

Sigh........ I apologize for the gripe fest, but sometimes a girl has just gotta let it out. Like I said above, the past two weeks have been fun (minus the stomach bug part), they've just been exhausting.

I can at least say I am thankful for two things, 1) we left the house in decent condition before we left (I hate returning to a mess) and 2) we also did every single piece of laundry before we left. On top of that I returned with a suitcase full of clean clothes (thanks to that wonderful bug). Two less things to worry about!

Hopefully I will be posting some pictures of our wonderful adventures, but don't expect too much from me anytime soon!

Taste testing

Don't you love when you get to try something before you buy it? Like free samples at the grocery store, or when you go to Baskin Robbins and can get a mini spoon-full of ice cream before you decide if you want a full scoop?

I've had a couple of opportunites to "taste test" this parenting thing the last few weeks.  Though I guess you can't really call it that because once baby gets here I don't really get to decide if I like it or not.  Of course, by that I don't mean whether or not I will actually like my baby.  I love him already! That's not the question.  But I don't really get to choose what "kind of baby" I get.  Like if he'll be one of those calm babies who sleeps a lot, or if he'll be a temperamental one who requires a little more work.  I don't get to pick what kind of personality he will have.  Heck, I don't even get to choose what he looks like!

It's been fun to get a "taste" of what life as a parent might be like though.  Today I got to go see my niece in her first softball game.  It was fun to watch her putting all her new skills to use and to see how proud of herself she was at the end of the game.  It was also funny to watch and listen to the parents in the stands.  I got to imagine myself sitting through many sporting events (because Jason is convinced that Floodling will be a pro-athlete of some sort).  I'm glad I have a little more time before I have to be "soccer-mom" though.

I also watched another "niece" of mine for a little bit today.  We had fun playing on the swings in her backyard, reading books, eating ice pops, practicing ballet, "mowing" the yard... all in a matter of 45 minutes or so!  Wow! Parenting is exhausting!  Gotta love nap time!

I also watched Stacey's 2 month old nephew a few weeks ago.  I took on the job thinking it would be good practice, though I freaked right before-hand... I worried "what if I can't do it? What if it's too hard?  What if I end up leaving this experience more terrified than I already am!?"  Thankfully it wasn't that bad, but it definitely did give me a taste of what things will be like with an infant.  It seemed like I would give him a bottle and change his diaper then all of a sudden it was time to feed and change again!  Several hours seemed to pass in mere minutes... how could two hours have passed already?  Stacey got back and we decided to "run errands" with him to see what that would be like with an infant. It seemed almost impossible to time things... we had to think about where we were going to be... and when... and how we were going to warm up his bottle, where we would change him, how to tote him around in the first place.  Phew!  I can see why so many new moms just don't get out, even though I swore I didn't want to be that way.

So I got my taste-test and even though I don't get to decide to "send it back" or "get a different flavor" I'm excited to see what this parenting thing will bring for me. It won't be too much longer before Floodling is here in my arms! In fact, only 9 more weeks!

This week, your baby measures over 16 inches long. He weighs about 3.3 pounds (try carrying four navel oranges) and is heading into a growth spurt. He can turn his head from side to side, and his arms, legs, and body are beginning to plump out as needed fat accumulates underneath his skin. He's probably moving a lot, too, so you may have trouble sleeping because your baby's kicks and somersaults keep you up. Take comfort: All this moving is a sign that your baby is active and healthy.

I can attest to all that moving! Sometimes I wonder if this boy ever sleeps!  He's also "plumping up" as stated above... the ultrasound tech at our last appointment showed us his face and said "look at those chubby cheeks already!". :)

Massage from the inside?

I wish you could feel my belly right now!  Floodling is sliding around in there and making my tummy look all kinds of funky!  While getting my pedicure the other day it hit me!  I know what he feels like now, he feels like a massage chair!  The kind with the balls that roll around.  Except it feels like that inside my stomach (maybe not as comfy and relaxing though....).  He isn't much for the short, sharp "kicks" these days; he seems to be all about dragging his elbow or foot from one end of my belly to the other.  It is one of the strangest sensations!

We got to see our little one again this week!  I always look forward to sneaking a peak at what he's up to and how much he's grown.  And grown he has!  His estimated weight is 3 lbs. 11 oz.  Definitely on the big side for being at week 30 (as you'll see below).  In fact my due date was apparently still wrong in their computer... they had me at 30 weeks 5 days when I was in fact 29 weeks 6 days (they were almost a week ahead!).  I didn't realize this until I left.  At the appointment I asked how he was measuring for his "age" and they said "he's slightly on the big side" and that was with them thinking I was a week farther along!  I'm getting a little nervous about how big he's going to get...

I'm also getting nervous about how big I'M going to get!  I've had a lot of comments lately about just how big I am.  I have to laugh because I've read about how pregnant women don't like to be told they're big, and I've also read that pregnant women don't like to be told their small.  Because of this my friend Stacey always tells me "you look 30 weeks pregnant" (or however many weeks I am) in response to my comments of how huge I'm getting.  I didn't think I really cared either way, but I guess the comments are starting to get to me now.  One person told me "wow, you're so big already! Do you think you'll end up on bed rest??".  Not very comforting... Though one lady at work told me "you're already7 months? You're not going to get very big!".  I guess it's all perspective.

I did tell Jason though that I'm going to have a complex after the baby is born and I no longer have a cute tummy (no matter how large it gets).  I've been told so many times "you look so great!" and "you're so cute pregnant!" or even "I want to look like you when I'm pregnant!". After the baby is born and I no longer have people telling me how cute I am I fear I'm just going to feel fat and ugly!  I guess people will be staring at the baby though and telling me how cute he is, and that will more than make up for it I'm sure! :)

30 weeks... can you believe we've made it this far? 10 weeks to go!  It feels like a lifetime away, and yet it feels like there's not nearly enough time to be ready!

Your baby's about 15.7 inches long now, and he weighs almost 3 pounds (like a head of cabbage). A pint and a half of amniotic fluid surrounds him, but that volume will decrease as he gets bigger and takes up more room in your uterus. His eyesight continues to develop, though it's not very keen; even after he's born, he'll keep his eyes closed for a good part of the day. When he does open them, he'll respond to changes in light but will have 20/400 vision — which means he can only make out objects a few inches from his face. (Normal adult vision is 20/20.)

Thoughts...

.. on having a natural birth in a hospital

Jason and I are starting natural birthing classes tonight.  We will also be taking the birthing class offered by the hospital to have a rounded perspective and an open mind, but my intent and aim is to have a natural birth. Besides the great benefits of natural births for both mom and baby, I just think that I don't need an extra cocktail of medications in addition to the ones I'm already on.

With this on my mind along with a recent conversation with a co-worker who had a natural hospital birth, and having completed the maternity center tour at my hospital, I have some thoughts that are plaguing me.

I am worried that...

• nurses will offer me pain meds at my most vulnerable moments.
• the nurses will be unfamiliar with natural birth and will either a) freak out (as they did in the case of said co-worker, who ended up with a room full of nurses who just wanted to see a natural birth) or b) they will think they have to do the usual because they don't know otherwise... hook me up to a heart rate monitor for example making me unable to move around the room or insert an IV, not giving me the option to keep myself hydrated and allowing too easy access for inserting medications I don't want.

I don't like that....

• the hospital requires babies to receive an eye gel in their eyes and a vitamin K shot (good things, I know, I just don't like that I have no choice in the matter).
• my hospital requires the babies to go to the nursery for an hour of "transition" time to help them adjust from the "womb world" to the "real world".  Would he not adjust just fine in my arms?  Babies used to do it.... and still do in home births.
• almost immediately after being told that the baby is required to be in the nursery for an hour, we were told that we should keep the baby in our room at all times to prevent infection (H1N1 in particular) and not to send the babies to the nursery over night (I didn't want to do this anyway, but a lot of books tell you to take advantage while you can and get one last night of sleep).
• the hospital does not allow photos or videos to be taken of the birth.  Again, not something I planned on but I hate that the option is taken away, it just makes me mad.
• after sharing all these rules and requirements we were told that it is "our body, our baby, our birth" and that we should have it how we want it.

I wish I didn't have to give birth in a hospital.  Unfortunately with my medical issues a home birth is not an option.  I think one of my biggest issues is rules... I never liked being at summer camps because I hated that I had to follow their rules.  I think it's funny that even if the rule doesn't affect me I still get upset... it means I don't have an option and that just makes me mad.

I've been wondering to myself what happens if I don't follow the rules?  Would they kick me out?? ; ) I can't imagine the hospital throwing a laboring woman out onto the street, nor can I imagine cops being called... it does make me laugh though to imagine what it might look like. People who know me well may know that I am usually soft-spoken, especially around strangers, but when my stubborn streak flares you better stay out of my way. (It's always the quiet ones, isn't it?) 

Who knows, maybe you'll see me in the news for giving birth in a jail cell because I refused to wear the provided hospital gown.....

Dreaming of baby

(Even though I already posted my regular Saturday post, I had this dream last night and felt it needed it's own separate post).

I keep reading that by now a lot of women are having dreams of baby.  So far I haven't and I was starting to feel like a bad mom!  But I finally had my first dream of Floodling.... unfortunately it wasn't about getting to meet him, what he will be like, or any of that cutesy stuff... it was terrifying!

I dreamt that I had Floodling now (like 28 weeks pregnant now).  In my dream I apparently had started having minor contractions (or something) and went in to the hospital to be monitored.  The next thing I knew I had a baby!  (I think this stemmed from having read a couple of premature birth stories last night).

Of course, being premature, he was tiny, but in my dream he was not the 14.5 inches and 2.5 lbs. that he supposedly should be at 28 weeks, he was about the size of a tiny frog.  No, not a frog like this:

But a tiny tree frog like this:

At one point he came unwrapped from his miniature receiving blanket (it was probably the size of a kleenex) and he literally started to try to hop away.  I was trying to hold on to him clenched in my hand like you would a frog or any other small animal.  When babies are born premature their skin is incredibly delicate so I was terrified of hurting his skin (or even his bones! I swore I heard a bone snap!).  I was bawling as I tried to hold on to him so he wouldn't jump away and he was crying too because I was hurting him (you had to hold him to your ear to hear the cry it was so tiny).  I was trying to call for a nurse to come help, and she finally did... She got him calm and had to wipe his poor skin with ointment because his skin had in fact been hurt.  Then she got him swaddled again.

I asked her why he was so tiny.  She said "well dear, you gave birth at 28 weeks".  I was like "I'm only at 28 weeks!?" I had apparently not realized I'd given birth so early.  It still seemed strange to me that he should be that small, but I said nothing else.  It did hit me though that we had nothing ready for him! We couldn't take him home! Granted, in real life if he were to be born right now he would spend a lot of time in the NICU before we brought him home, but the feeling of being unprepared was really overwhelming.

So it definitely wasn't a cute "can't wait to meet my darling" dream... it was terrifying and weird.  I'm sure it says a million things about my mental state right now, not the least of which is my worry that we won't be ready in time, or the fear of giving birth prematurely.  But why was my mental image of him frog-like? Why did he try to "hop" away? Why did I have to hurt him to keep him safe?

Rough morning

Okay.... so I had a scary morning this morning... and I'm going to start explaining it from the beginning.

On Tuesday this week (as you already know) I had some spotting. It only lasted a day, then seemed to go away.

Wednesday and Thursday I had minor cramping and other stomach discomfort. As I have begun taking Benefiber to aid in some uhh... issues... I've been having, I kind of passed the pain off on that, though still had some worry in the back of my mind.

Last night I began having some strange twitching in my upper stomach area, just under my ribs. While that probably seems strange and harmless, the only other time I can remember having this twitching feeling was on the Monday in July when I went to the doctor's office to confirm that I was pregnant (when I was already miscarrying). I remember clearly because I made Jason put his hand on my stomach to feel it (it kind of felt like an eyelid twitch). He laughed saying, "there's no way we can feel the baby yet!". Of course I knew that, I just wanted to see if he could feel it too....

Well, this morning when I woke up with heavier bleeding than I've had this entire 7 weeks, of course I freaked out. I called out of work, and laid in bed until I could call the doctor's office to make an appointment.

Thankfully the doctor had me come in right away for an ultrasound. And guess what!? Everything is okay!!!! We even heard the heartbeat again!! When I heard it, I asked the doctor "is that the heartbeat!?" as tears started to roll down my face. He laughed and said "It sounds like it to me! I know you're nervous, but if that was your heartbeat you would be in the hospital right now!". I could even tell that the baby looked bigger!! (Well, I'm pretty sure at least...I am not an expert at interpreting ultrasounds)

He said the baby is at the top of my uterus which means that it doesn't look like there is any impending miscarriage either.

All I can say is thanks and praise to God! I have been praying intensely all week, and especially all morning. I have been trying to trust, knowing God wouldn't put me through something I can't handle (and thinking I wasn't sure I could handle this at all). (For those of you wondering where this re-found faith is coming from... that will be a story for another day).

The doctor said some women have bleeding throughout their pregnancy, and there really is no explanation. He said, if we have to, we'll do an ultrasound every other day, whether the insurance company likes it or not. Of course, I'm not going to do that... I think the less you do the better... but it is comforting that he understands that I'm nervous and scared.

He wants Jason to be tested for the CF gene ASAP. And he wants me to see a high-risk OB doctor soon too. Otherwise, he just said relax.

So here I am, trying to relax.... knowing though that it is going to be a VERY long 7 months ahead of us.

P.S. Sorry I have no picture to share this time. Wish I did, but I think the doc was just checking things were okay, and that's it. And I'm okay with that!

Paranoid much?

How am I supposed to tell the difference between paranoia and a reasonable amount of fear?

I started spotting again yesterday. I've kind of had it on and off, but it hasn't been an all day thing (except for that first terrifying week) until now. I woke up with spotting and kind of freaked. I couldn't think of something to blame it on as I have been able to do all along. I kept hoping all day that it would go away.

It stayed light, and did eventually go away last night.

My breasts still hurt, and everything else seems to be "normal" in the way of pregnancy symptoms.

How do I know when to freak out and when to just relax and assume my body is doing what it's going to do? I told Jason last night that everything seemed okay again, and he just laughed, "you mean, there's nothing actually wrong with you?"

I told him, considering what happened last time and how it all began, it seems reasonable to be at least a little freaked out, especially by this.

It seems no matter what this whole thing will be a game of patience and trust. I cannot stray from my original mantra. God has a plan. I have to trust that. Getting my mind to shut up and listen though is a whole different story...

The bizarre world of dreams

Have you ever had a bad dream that you just couldn't shake when you woke up? Have you even gone back to sleep to try to force yourself to dream something better to make it go away? I had one of those dreams last night... and I'm hoping writing about it will help me to put my mind at ease...

It was fairly simple. I dreamed I was staying at a hotel with my family. I was sleeping in a room by myself and there was a man... a very creepy man... on the balcony watching me.

This was unsettling enough for a dream. But to add to the unease the dream gave me, my dad caught the man and threw him off the balcony, then shot him. I know my dad would do just about anything to protect me, but even dreaming my dad as a killer is not comforting.

I know overall it really wasn't that bad, but the dream just felt so real and left me with a creepy feeling I couldn't get rid of. All morning while getting ready I've been trying to shake the dream, trying to erase the image of the man peering from around the curtains, trying to fend off crazy thoughts like "maybe there was someone in our house last night...." So when I came downstairs to let Lucy out and discovered that the back door has been unlocked all night, my stomach kind of did a double turn. Guess I won't be getting this dream out of my mind for a while yet...

As I have been having a lot of vivid dreams lately (though nothing so unsettling until this) I did look up pregnancy and dreams to find this info.:

Dreams are like funhouse mirrors that reflect your emotional state. Since pregnancy can feel like an emotional roller coaster, don't be surprised if your dreams become more vivid and crazy than usual. Dreams also become more vivid during pregnancy because of increased progesterone and increased awakenings from dream-filled REM (rapid eye movement) sleep.

Some experts think pregnancy dreams — which can be about everything from tadpoles and fishes to talking animals and towering skyscrapers — symbolize your excitement, fear, and apprehension about the physical and emotional changes happening to you.

I am wondering what (if anything) my dream may be symbolizing? Fear that I cannot protect my baby? Fear of bringing a baby into a world sick with child predators and bad people? Fear of how we as parents will react to perceived threats?

All I know is that I would rather be dreaming about whether we'll be decorating with pink or blue than having more dreams like that!! Any suggestions for happy dreams full of rainbows and flowers???