The Birth Center: Part II

I went to the hospital again yesterday evening. 

The good news: they let me go home that night.

The bad news: since they didn't admit me, my insurance apparently classifies it as an "emergency room" visit, and it is subject to the $150 ER copay.  Lame.

This visit went much like I hoped the first one would.  I got there, got monitored, got drugged, and the contractions slowed way down.  My doctor is in Italy right now (good timing, right?) and the on-call doc from the partner practice was out of the hospital, so I was checked by a hospitalist (who really knows all the different kinds of doctors?) but I really liked her, so that worked out for me.  (Especially since I'd heard less than good things about the on-call doc.)

The only other notable thing that happened was that she checked my cervix (sorry guys, you might want to skip this paragraph) and not only is it way softer and shorter than last time I was checked (which, granted, was a while ago), it's also dilated to a 3.5.

My body is definitely ready to kick these boys out.  But it will be so much better for them to stay in another 2.5 to 4 weeks.  (Not to mention better for my wallet.) 

I was sent home with strict instructions to stay horizontal in bed (or on the couch) and not do ANYTHING other than get up to use the restroom until I had seen my doctor.  But I'm guessing that's exactly what I'll be told at the doctor tomorrow. Especially since I'm still contracting.

That means at least two more weeks of Not. Doing. Any. Thing.  No getting the kids breakfast (or lunch, or dinner).  No changing diapers. No cooking. No cleaning. No laundry. No baby prep. No nothing.  And while that sounds nice, it's really not.  Something about not being able to do stuff makes it so much more desirable. 

And laying down all the time makes for some seriously sore muscles. 


You may have noticed

I decided to change the kids' names.  Ella is staying for now since it's not her given name anyway, and I can't come up with something that fits.  The names for the other two are things I call them daily, but really don't have any connection to their real names.  When commenting, please refrain from using their real names.

Near heart attack

I lost Louie yesterday.

Couldn't find her anywhere.

I was talking on the phone to my sister, and stepped into my bedroom for a moment to relate a funny story about one of the kids that I didn't necessarily want them overhearing.  (I do laugh at my kids, but I try not to do it to their faces!)  When I came out a couple of minutes later (less than 5), Ella and Rico were happily sitting at the table coloring, just as I'd left them, but Lou was nowhere to be seen.  I glanced in her room, and the kids' room, and even checked the bathroom and the laundry room (which was gated off--no way could she have gotten in there!) but she was no where.

At this point I was getting a little nervous.

Now, my house is only 1150 (or so) square feet, so there are not really a lot of places she could go.  I checked all the rooms again, but with no luck.  Maybe she had followed me into my room unnoticed, so I checked in there as well, but to no avail.

She's much too short to open doors, and the kids would have noticed something as suspicious as someone coming in and taking her, so I knew she had to be around, but where?

Rico suggested I look in the closet, so I checked the hall closet (which she can't open), and naturally she wasn't there.  Next I peeked into the closet in the kids room, where she was very happily, and very quietly, playing with my cell phone.

Apparently, if I can hide and talk on the phone, so can she.


To name, or not to name? That is the question.

When I first started blogging, my URL was my first and last name.  But I decided that I didn't want to be quite that public with my identity, so I changed it.  Then I went through and edited every mention of my last name from existing posts.  Then I got myself a more generic email address. 

I'm still fine using my first name, but in the last few weeks I've been thinking long and hard about using pseudonyms for my children.  I don't know if it's the upcoming arrival of Morty and Ferdie that has me contemplating the switch or something else, but I want your opinions. 

Why do you (or don't you) use pseudonyms on your public blog? 

Do you ever wish you did? (or didn't?)

If you've got a private blog, what is your reasoning for having it private?

I don't think I'll ever go private, but I may just spend some of my down time in the next couple of weeks editing any mention of my children. 

We'll see.

(And no, I will not be naming my babies "Morty" and "Ferdie," but that's what we're calling them for now.  Two points if you know where the names come from.)


Comments from the peanut gallery

First, I should thank you all for your kind words.  It's amazing what can happen when you actually shower and do your hair and make-up.  (Or is it make up?)  

I had an appointment today (32 weeks, 5 days) and I'm measuring at 41 weeks.  This is no little belly.  I'm now apparently big enough that the world at large has decided that it's acceptable for random passers-by to comment on my apparently imminent date with the birth center. 

I've had people asking when I was due for several months now (and they always look a me strange when I say November) but now the comments have become "Any day now, huh?" and "Good L**d woman!  You're due in what? two days?"  I responded to that one with a civil "Nope, more like two months," and went on my merry way, leaving him to wonder why in the world I was so huge. 

But really? I don't think the picture I posted does full justice to the huge-ness that is my belly.  Because not only does it stick out there, but it's pretty wide as well.  I mean, I've got two babies in there that were measuring 5+ lbs last week.  That's over 11 lbs of baby, people.  I felt huge with Caroline (pictured here) and she was under 10 lbs.  And it's only going to get bigger. 

But that's a good thing, so I'm not going to complain.  About the size at least. 

The unsolicited comments from complete strangers are another matter.


It's just a basketball

I swear.

Or not.
32 weeks, 4 days.


Lest we forget

So I'm not good at milestone posts.  I'm much better and random, rambling posts about nothing of import.  But I would feel like a bad mom if I didn't at least mention the fact that my baby girl started kindergarten yesterday. 

She was thrilled, of course.

And likes to show off the gap in her mouth. (She lost her first tooth last week.)

I took her to her classroom and she sat down and got right to work coloring a picture.  She was in her element.

I don't know how they planned it, but she was at a table with two kids from church, so she even felt like she was with friends. (There are 8 kids from our ward in kindergarten at her school, spread between three classes.)

It was odd having her gone all day, but I was busy much of the morning with a doctor's appointment, dropping by the library to pick up Mockingjay (loving it!) and getting gas to miss her too much.  Today the house has been strangely quiet with only two little monkeys. 

She had a great day, and though she did admit that "it wasn't as fun as I thought it would be," she was still excited to go again today, so it can't have been too bad!

I still can't believe I'm old enough to have a kindergartner.