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Jeanette's Pregnancy Journal

Week 36
~ Getting Prepared

Four weeks to go! There is a serious nesting syndrome going around. My daughter appears to be immune to it, but Syed and I are definitely in its throws. All I think about is getting the house cleaned and the meals organized. All he thinks about is arranging furniture and accommodating, fixing and replacing things. I suppose they are one in the same.

He wants the car cleaned and vacuumed out, the kitchen counter top replaced, our bedroom rearranged, an additional air conditioner unit in the living room, and a secure special place for the bassinet.

I want my house spotless, have purchased everything on my to-buy list, and get the baby's clothes and diapers organized in a new dresser and a new hanging diaper holder (do they still make those?). I feel equally passionate about prepping two to three weeks worth of meals.

I also want to get my daughter squared away. I tried to peak her interest in summer camp, but it barely fluttered. She does not seem interested. I asked if she wanted to visit her grandparents for a short while, before the baby is born (but not during the baby's birth). She said it was not worth going for such a short period of time. She said that she just wants to see what we are going to be up to. I asked if she wanted a cousin to come and visit. She asked if I really thought that their personalities would be compatible.

My mother suggested that she might truly be tired and need a summer vacation that is not on the go constantly, like the school year that she just finished. "Maybe her body, mind, and spirit need to lounge around and sleep in," she suggested. Well, I can definitely understand that. It is me that wants her to be active. But then later on she will come to me and announce that she is bored. I tell her all the time that intelligent people do not get bored.

Our local library is closed for renovations and I know that I am going to be on lockdown. I have had a baby before. I must anticipate a significant recovery and adjustment period.

The hottest topic in our house this week, besides the arrival of the baby, is should we get cable or not. We have never really had cable. Watching television has never been a priority for us. I do not like the brainwashing that children succumb to from inappropriate images, societal caricatures, and commercials that teach them that who they are and what they have is not enough but if they just had this product or adopt this lifestyle, things would be different. So, we have always rented movies.

However, during my maternity leave, I would like to watch crime shows like American Justice, the First 48 Hours, Law & Order, etc. Syed wants to watch the upcoming world soccer match beginning June 11th. My daughter just wants to watch television. But she will sit up and watch it 24-hours a day if I let her.

I do not like the idea of having to place controls or locks on anything, but I know that I will have to and have not decided what those controls should be. So, we are in a pickle. I am tempted to just scrap the entire idea and go back to renting movies from Netflix.

On Thursday, I submitted to an ultrasound. The ultrasound technician was not the most friendliest health care provider I have come across, but she had work to do and I could not realistically expect her to be bouncing off the wall with joy for every expectant mother she sees including myself. At one moment she told me that the baby was very big, and then when I asked her for a weight estimation she told me 6 pounds. Well, six pounds is not a big baby. It is a normal-sized baby. Then she told me that my amniotic fluid was low. However, when I asked her to expound upon that and/or share with me some of her other impressions she shut down. "I'm sorry, but you will need to talk to your doctor. I should not have said what I did say." Anger and frustration welled up inside of me.

"What is wrong with my baby? How could I have made it this far along only to encounter another problem?" rolled around and around in my head. Syed reassured me over and over again not to worry. We were headed to the doctor's office anyway for an appointment, but the actual results would not be ready until the following day. These comments touched on my secret fear of Down Syndrome and any other congenital disease. I did not do the prenatal screening for them, because I was traveling coupled with the fact that I knew that I was not going to abort no matter what the results were. Nevertheless, I rushed to the doctor's office afterwards having taken the day off again to accommodate these two appointments. The doctor had yet to arrive. I explained the situation to the nurse and she wanted to know how low the amniotic fluid was. "I don't know, she would not say. The results won't be in until tomorrow." "Well, if it is lower than eight then we would need to induce you right away."

I started drinking lots and lots of water trying to help replenish my baby's amniotic fluid.

After I was weighed and blood pressure measured, I sat in the waiting room anxiously with four non-pregnant women. Today was the GYN of OB/GYN day. Syed, as always, was agitated that the doctor had yet to arrive. After some time, Mary, the nurse, announced that the doctor could not make it today because he was busy with another client in the hospital. This was not good for me. I needed to know more about this low amniotic fluid index.

I had some additional errands to run and phoned Mary back in the afternoon to see if the doctor had returned. He had. "Mary, I need to come back in and see him TODAY." "How fast can you get here?" "Within five minutes." We rushed back there and he attended to us. He peered inside my abdomen with his antique-looking ultrasound machine and told me that I had significant pockets of amniotic fluid, reassured me that there was fluid or else the baby's image would be extremely dense and not transparent-like, and admonished me (jokingly) for taking the word of a technician. "I told you that this was an old doctor and he knows what he's talking about. Why do you let people worry you so?" Syed said.

I know that he was worried too, but he has to appear to be the big, bad (not literally) strong man. Everyone is waiting on pins and needles for this baby. His family calls every single day. We have given them a due date, but they still call just to check if I am in labor and they missed the call.

He also checked me for GBS and gave me some a requisition for more labs.

I did my labs the next day and it occurred to me that I have been more thirsty than normal. So, then I started worrying about gestational diabetes. The results will be back next Wednesday. I am just driving myself crazy with fret, huh? Is this normal? It is the last, final stretch and I just want things to be perfect (to go as anticipated). I am trying so hard not to get caught up in constant worry over last minute snafus, but it is hard.


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