Teeth and a Baby Pic!

Yesterday was an extremely long and physically draining day. The schedule was packed with appointments, primarily medical, which kept me moving for much of the day. By the time the sun went down, I felt a sense of relief taking off my leg, knowing that the day had finally come to a close.

Scott had periodontal surgery which would be difficult for anybody but was the experience was made more intense because of his deep phobias. He was nearly inconsolable in the morning, working himself into such a frenzy of fear that I couldn't help him recenter and regain perspective. I tried throughout the morning to remain compassionate, loving and calm, but I have to admit to slipping up and barking at him when we were getting ready to leave. I found Robby crying uncontrollably, holding onto his stuffed turtles in the corner of his bedroom because he was worried that his Daddy was going to die while he was at school. I understand that Scott's fears are real, but seeing them impact Robby was heartbreaking.

After dropping the scared patient off for surgery, I barely had enough time to get him checked in with the nurses before I had to leave for my own appointment. Thankfully my "old lady having a baby" doctors were in the same office building because I'm certain I would have been late had they not been so close. The appointment was not physically pleasant (I'll spare the details because I am sure that many read this blog over their morning coffee) but I only hope that every pain I experience will become a distant memory when I am holding this little baby.

Although not comfortable, the appointment did yield more information about little baby-to-be. The little cherub is already 4 pounds and 11 ounces which was deemed "perfect" by the specialists. (S)He is still lying transverse and doesn't appear to be motivated to move into a more suitable birthing position. The cord is still wrapped around the neck but it is not impeding with growth or development at this time. Because of the cord and position issues, coupled with the fact that no diaphragm exercises were picked up by the sonogram, I was given a steroid shot to develop the lungs quickly. This is preventative but seemed prudent considering the situation.

As soon as I was done with my appointment I waddled to the grocery store to fill a handful of prescriptions. Between Scott and me, we certainly put our insurance card to good use yesterday! By the time I climbed into the car, I received a text message from Scott informing me that the procedure was over.

I was surprised to hear from him but delighted because I thought it signaled an easier procedure than expected. I drove directly to the Periodontist office to pick him up. They were surprised to see me because Scott was no where close to being finished. I guess I should have known better than to trust a text from somebody under partial sedation!

Instead of leaving I stayed in the waiting room, resting and killing time with old copies of People magazine. He emerged about an hour and a half later, groggy and sporting chipmunk cheeks. I drove him home and immediately tucked him into bed. Although he was obviously tired, he spent his time calling and texting me rather than sleeping. I love him dearly, but he is certainly a high maintenance (and non-compliant) patient! I spent the rest of the day and evening fetching ice, bringing an assortment of soft foods, fluffing pillows, answering questions and just providing sympathy.  I was happy to pick up Robby from school because I knew that he would help me by being a fantastic little delivery boy.

Scott is home from work today and seems to be on the mend. I am hoping to spend the day quietly working on the couch. I know that a nap is too much to hope for, so at this point I'll be content with the absence of drama. 

Sore Weekend

This has been a rough weekend. As much as I would like to say that the adversity is behind us, the beginning of this week isn't shaping up to be any easier. This morning I am dropping Scott off at the periodontist at 8:30. I'll have enough time to get him settled before I have to leave for my "old lady having a baby" sonogram, which is scheduled for 9. Typically I'm not nervous about the sonograms, but today is different. I spent the majority of Saturday in the Labor and Delivery ward of our hospital, hooked up to monitors and hoping that this little one was not making a dangerously early arrival.

I woke up at about 3 AM on Saturday violently vomiting. I had felt well when I went to bed and, although I had no fever, even a tablespoon of water caused me to wretch for long intervals. Each episode caused my cramping to increase until I was pushed into a cycle of near constant contractions. By 11:00 I had enough, and I knew I needed intervention.

As luck would have it, my mom and my sister were coming to paint the baby's room. The pair took one look at me, packed me into the car and drove me to the hospital. Scott stayed home to care for Robby and to tackle the most unenviable task of cleaning up the prolific HazMat scene I had created. 

I was expecting to be seen in the emergency room, primarily because the hospital is still under construction and I didn't think that the labor and delivery ward was complete. It turns out that it was officially opened on Wednesday, and I was the first emergency patient to utilize the facility. The nurses seemed so excited when they wheeled me into the brand new ward. I'm fairly certain that I saw two nurses high five each other when my presence was announced.  Needless to say, being the only patient on the ward had significant benefits. I was seen quickly, and the staff was attentive and excited about caring for me.

Within minutes I was in a gown, propped into bed and hooked up to a variety of baby monitors. Needless to say, I was scared. I knew that this baby was going to be facing a struggle if he or she made an appearance this early.  I felt helpless and vulnerable.

It turns out that the vomiting, coupled with dehydration, caused my body to enter a cycle of contractions. I was experiencing rather significant contractions every two minutes, like clock work, for several hours. After two liters of IV fluid were administered, along with medication to thwart the vomiting, the severity of the contractions began to wane.  After spending the afternoon in the hospital I was discharged. I crawled into bed and slept until the next morning.

When I woke up seemingly ever muscle in my body hurt. To me it felt like I had done 500 sit-ups, although that analogy is only a guess because I know I've never done that many. Sunday was spent resting and trying to keep Scott centered and calm before his procedure.  That in and of itself felt like mission impossible!

I'm looking forward to seeing the sonogram pictures today. I have been worried since my unexpected time in the hospital and just need to verify that everything is okay. It is one thing to hear the doctor's assessment, but it something entirely different to have visual confirmation.  Wish us luck!

Hijacked Blog

This blog is not from Peggy but from her mom.  I have hijacked the page!  As her friends and readers, you know that yet a second miracle has occurred, and she and Scott and Robby are expecting an addition to the family. The pregnancy has not been easy, especially with all the complications; however, when (s)he arrives, (s)he will be greeted with an enormous amount of love. 


Because this is a second child, I was advised that a shower would be in poor taste so I am throwing a “Sprinkle” reception on Sunday, April 13, from 1 to 3 PM. It will be held at the Evergreen Country Club in Haymarket, Virginia.  This is an open invitation to anyone who may be in driving distance and wants to wish them well. 


If you are unable to make it because of distance or previous commitment, please help shower her with cards.  I think the well wishes would be a grand surprise for her at the Sprinkle. 

If you can attend the Sprinkle, please RSVP to peggyssprinkle@gmail.com so I can order enough cupcakes!


If you would like to send a card, send it to;

Peggy’s Sprinkle

c/o Nana Friedman

119 Bunker Hill Road

New Cumberland, PA  17070



Please help me make this a success.

Wardrobe Drama

I went to bed Tuesday night with my limb feeling nothing more than tired. I woke up to discover a significant sore on my inside knee. I have no idea how I managed to achieve skin breakdown in the middle of the night. I am not sure I'll ever adjust to the strange things happening to my body during this pregnancy!

Having a sore on the residual limb is never a fun experience. Coupled with the other discomforts of pregnancy, I was utterly miserable. My liner is already tight because of the swelling in my limb, and trying to roll a slightly too snug liner over an open sore was difficult. Needless to say, trying to squeeze into my barely fitting socket only intensified my misery. 

With my first step, I knew that I decided to forgo my prosthesis for much of the day. I hoped that I would only have to wear the leg to drop off Robby and pick him up from school. I had planned on coming straight home, taking off my leg and liner, slathering on Neosporin and working on the couch. Unfortunately, plans rarely go as expected.

Yesterday was Picture Day at Robby's school. He picked out a green and yellow flannel shirt for the occasion and was quite proud of his outfit. He looked so handsome I just wanted to smother him with kisses!  As soon as we walked into his school I realized that this was not a normal school picture. 

Instead of the traditional blue screen, we saw piles of frilly dresses, hats, little boy suits and assorted props. His class was scurrying around, delighted with the opportunity to play dress-up. The photographer looked utterly shocked when she saw Robby. Looking at the small sizes strewn throughout the lobby, I immediately sensed the problem.  After some stalling, she admitted that she had failed to bring any "fancy clothes" his size. 

Personally, I find the concept of a dress-up school picture ridiculous. However, I didn't want Robby to be the only student in his class picture to be wearing normal clothes. I pulled Robby aside and told him that I was going to run out and buy him a fancy suit. He threw his arms around me, kissed me three times and kept saying thank you. As I walked out of the school I heard him call out, "Try to find a yellow tie, Momom." 

With a sore leg I hobbled into Walmart, certain that I would quickly find an outfit that would fit. After all, it is nearly Easter and the racks were overflowing with spring suits. Unfortunately, none of the outfits on any of the three racks were even close to his size. Discouraged but not defeated, I drove to the department store down the block.

By the time I entered the second store I knew that my leg was bleeding. I also knew that my little guy was depending upon me and that his class was waiting for him to get dressed for their big picture. Thankfully the clerks noticed my difficulty walking and offered to shop for me. I normally would have declined the offer, but yesterday I was desperate for relief.  I sat in a chair by the register while they pulled all the suits in his size. Within minutes I was buying a grey vest, blue shirt and yellow tie and heading out the door. It was refreshing to experience such compassionate and prompt customer service!  .

After dropping off the over-priced new suit, I went home and immediately cleaned the blood and fluids off my limb. I spent the remainder of the day on the couch, trying to nurse the wound back to health. I have come to expect the unexpected during this pregnancy. That being said, the surprises can stop anytime now.

I was anxious to see Robby's photos, especially after the whole wardrobe malfunction. Although he was handsome, I was totally disappointed in the uber-expensive portfolio which was presented to me. The photographer, the same lady who was prop happy, insisted that Robby remove his cowboy boots and socks for every pose. I failed to see the artistic value of wearing a suit while sporting bare feet. Oh well, I guess we'll be headed to Target for school pictures this year.  At least there he will be able to wear his green and yellow flannel shirt and cowboy boots!

Avoidance Works.

Monday night I ended up doing something that has only occurred perhaps one or two other times, each incident with an extenuating circumstance. I stayed home from Robby's hockey lesson. I felt oddly guilty about missing his lesson, but I just didn't have the energy to attend. I also didn't want to deal with and confront the frustrating "no seating" decision dictated by the rink owners. Sometimes it is easier just to avoid than to always face a battle!

Scott took Robby and, from the pictures and videos provided, my absence was not an issue. Robby seemed to have a blast and after watching a few video clips I began to relax and enjoy my "get out of skate free" card. I sat on the couch, kicked my leg off and enjoyed watching reruns of Modern Family until they returned.  Although I work from home, I am always engrossed in a project or report. I rarely sit back and just relax, so Monday night was a treat.

The duo returned home later than usual because Scott decided to allow Robby to stay and take advantage of the open ice. By the time they did come home, Robby was completely tuckered out. Scott's plan worked because the little guy slept until 8:45 the next morning. Apparently skate is the secret weapon to get Robby to sleep beyond the sunrise!

Next week Scott has dental surgery (yes, his medical phobias are beginning to kick into high gear already) and I'll be taking Robby to skate by myself. At that time I'll figure out how to deal with the "no seating" issue. I know that standing will not be an option for a variety of reasons, but I still haven't decided on the perfect way to handle the dilemma. Hopefully by then I'll be feeling better and stronger, so that I can calmly advocate for myself. But for this week, I think that avoidance was the perfect technique!

Normal...

During the past week I have begun to worry about going into pre-term labor. My pregnancy with Robby taught me the difference between a Braxton-Hicks contraction and painful cramping. What I have been experiencing on an uncomfortably frequent basis was definitely not the typical Braxon-Hicks type contraction. I began to worry that something was awry.  Needless to say, I was extremely anxious before my OB/GYN appointment yesterday morning.

After talking with the doctor about my recent experiences, she promptly began the examination. I became concerned when she excused herself from the examination room to consult with another physician. I may not be a medical expert, but I am aware that seeking another professional opinion in the midst of an exam is never a good sign! 

I lay on the table covered with a paper gown while trying to maintain some sense of dignity with my legs in stirrups until both doctors returned. Having four sets of hands poking and prodding while I was in the most immodest position is not an experience I wish to relive! Finally, both physicians were in agreement.

Apparently my little baby has decided to lie down in utero. At this stage, he or she should be at least quasi-vertical to accommodate for the growing size and in preparation for childbirth. My little one is completely horizontal with the entire length resting on the bottom of my uterus. 

Right now we don't know if the baby is just comfortable and prefers to be prone or if he (or she) is bound in that position because of the umbilical cord. I have a sonogram scheduled for next Monday which will answer the question. In the meantime, as long as the baby keeps kicking and punching me, I am to assume that everything is fine.

Incidentally, it turns out that the baby lounging is also a contributing factor to my ongoing weight loss.  At this stage I am supposed to be gaining approximately one pound a week. Instead I am steadily losing at that same rate. So far I have lost over 30 pounds being pregnant. (Although in all fairness it is difficult to tell because of the large baby bulge at the bottom of my belly.) The doctors surmise that, in addition to my thyroid issues impacting my appetite, the baby's position is compressing the entire stomach. In other words, I am sporting a baby lap band at the moment.

While I'm happy to have answers about the painful cramping and weight loss, I am also frustrated. I wish that this would be a normal pregnancy! Of course, I also realize that "normal" is not part of our family vocabulary. 

Admitting Weakness

Like so many people I know, it is difficult for me to ask for help. I am not reluctant because I fear being indebted to another person. I have no doubts that my friends and family offer assistance because they care, not because they are seeking something in return.  For me, asking for help is admitting a weakness. The simple request, regardless of how obvious the need or the reasons, is an admission that I cannot do something. I despise feeling limited, regardless of the unusual circumstances.

Rationally I know that my aversion to asking for help is completely unfounded. I never feel that my friends or family are somehow beholden to me when I help with a project. I certainly don't take their request as a sign of weakness. I just find it difficult to be on the other side of the dynamic.

Although my pride often interferes, I am trying to accept my current limitations by asking for help. In truth, I am more willing to ask because I know that the health of the baby is at stake. I just cannot keep pushing myself to my physical limits. Each time I overexert, regardless of my intentions, I end up cramping and in pain.  Although the physical discomfort and cramping is enough of a deterrent, facing the wrath of my family after I overexert myself is almost as scary!

Thankfully my family knows me well, and were able to sense when I was preparing to overdo it. My Mom and my sister came down this Saturday to help move the remaining furniture out of the baby's room. Between the two of them and Scott, the room is now clear and ready for new carpet, paint and a crib. I felt useless as I stood idly by why they all worked, but I also knew that I had no choice. I carried a 5 pound bucket of paint up from the garage and was rendered out of breath and bent over from cramps. Trying to move a computer armoire certainly would have been a disaster.

With the help of my family, the room has been cleared and a huge stress has been lifted. While I hate that I have to depend on others, I am extremely grateful that they dropped everything to help. For the next few months I suppose I'm going to have to continue to swallow my pride and admit that I'm human. I can't do everything, and I need to rely on those around me. I know it won't be easy, but when I'm holding that little baby in my arms I have no doubt that it will be worth it!