Vanity fair?

My legs are the one thing about my body I have always been at least semi-proud of. After nearly thirty years of walking on my toes and a good fifteen doing a good bit of running, my legs and my calves in particular have usually been a point of pride for me. My legs have never been really skinny, or unusually long, but they were strong and muscular and that made me feel healthy.

A mere three days of bed rest has pretty much killed that image. My once bulging calf muscles have been reduced to some extra skin hanging off a pitiful looking shin. You know how homemade pudding has those little dimples and wiggles in the most enticing of ways? Well, that effect is not quite the same when it appears on you upper thigh. My new lack of muscle tone has left my upper leg with more craters than the moon. Ewww.

My vision of health was finally shattered last night when they had the physical therapist come move my legs around for "exercise"...I ran a half marathon less than a year ago! Anyway, I know that all of this is temporary and I have plenty of time to get these toothpicks back into shape, I just wanted to document the current state of affairs in case anyone was thinking of using me in a Nair commercial in the next few months.

And so it begins

Finished my first full day in the hospital, here are just a few things that I have observed thus far...
1. Despite appearances to the contrary, the pudding is actually quite good
2. The hash browns, however, are every bit as rubbery as they appear
3. Any time they tell you they are going to let you sleep, they mean that you will not be physically shaken awake. You will instead wake up to strangers standing over you without announcing their presence
4. There is no such thing as a comfortable hospital bed...
5. But the water pressure is great

So that's about it for Day One...only 34 to go!

A shocking turn of events

So, at 29 weeks pregnant with five weeks to go, I find myself at East Cooper Hospital for the long haul of this pregnancy. It would be an understatement to say that Parke and I were shocked when the doctor calmly said that based on some recent developments, it was time to think of a hospital stay. Shocked would not even describe our reaction when I asked her when and she said "now."
So surreal when I went home and threw a bunch of clothes in a bag and left for the last time in what is likely to be at least five weeks...even more so when I realized the next time I come home I will have a baby.
It has all happened really fast, but as scary and unsettling as it has been it is not nearly scary and unsettling as these past couple of months when my constant thought and worry has been that something terrible would happen to our baby. While a hospital stay is certainly not ideal, I feel like I can breathe for the first time in weeks. I'll take it.

Bad Idea

I've decided the internet is like crack to the pregnant woman, and probably just as dangerous. Even if I did not have the whole "don't go into labor or your baby will die" thing going on, I still think that I would be a nervous wreck about half the stuff out there.

The first and most obvious no-no's are the miscarriage, lost pregnancy sites and stories...these are just the WORST. If you want to make a hormonal and huge woman lose complete control and bawl for an hour, well then these are the stories for you.

Second and almost as bad are the "what can go wrong" scenarios. I realize that even some of the most respectable sites need to post this kind of information for the poor souls that go through this stuff, but for the most part you don't need to know what can go wrong unless it is actually going wrong. I never even heard of vasa previa before I was diagnosed (which turned out to be bad enough), but I was already at panic level 10 about all sorts of incompetencies my cervix may or may not have.

Then there is the basic info, which can be just as alarming depending on your situation. For me, the most chilling of these are the "how to know you are in labor" symptoms which, as discussed ad nauseum, I am NOT SUPPOSED TO DO. This list includes things like "backache", "pressure", and "abdominal pain". Well good lord, I have all three of those all of the time and I am pretty sure they are due to the 3 lb infant practicing his tai-bo on my insides and the 22 other lbs that have joined him. Nonetheless, every time I read labor symptoms I am left wondering if I should "call my practitioner immediately".

Finally, there are the more touchy-feely of sites that insist that your attitude, stress level, ability to read Shakespeare, etc. all directly influence your child's demeanor BEFORE HE IS EVER BORN. Well, if that's the case, this kid is a lost cause. He is probably going to need Paxil out of the womb. Suffice it to say I have not been at my calmest these past 7.5 months.

Every week I promise myself to stay off of these sites but the very next time I have so much as a twinge I am right back on the net. My name is Anne Harris, I am a pregnant woman and internet addict...my last hit was approximately five minutes ago .

Red in the Face

One of my newest pregnancy symptoms seems to be an extreme tendency to blush at inappropriate times, namely at work.

My job is for all intents and purposes as a secretary, and I have been busting my behind for the past 2+ years to show that I can do much more than make copies and answer phones. I think all of my hard work is a bust now that I now have the world's worst tendency to get hot and flustered at the drop of a hat. One minute I am fine and the next I am in the middle of explaining something to someone "superior" to me and my whole body goes hot and gets beet red and my eyes feel like they are going to explode.

It's not even the kind of blush you can kind of wave away and pretend like you are just having a little hot flash, it's like the kind of blush where your eyes are watering and wooshing sounds start in your ears. I look like a COMPLETE fool. And of course then the person says, "Ooooh, have I embarrassed you?" or just looks at me like I have lost my mind, at which point I really do get embarrassed and turn a nice shade of puce.

I know in the grand scheme of things this is not a big deal, but good lord, it's really hard to get people to take you seriously when you look like a fat, red sweaty tomato. Not exactly the image I was going for...

My best friend's third cousin's dog is dead...or why I now listen to country music

This whole vasa previa diagnosis has been a pretty traumatic event in my life. Even though I know it is highly unlikely now that we know about it, I still have a tendency to feel like something terrible is going to happen at any moment. I spend hours lying around with my shirt up watching for signs of movement, and heaven help the kid if he doesn't jump to it, because my next step is drinking ice cold water to get him hopping...or eating something spicy, which usually just results in giving him the hiccups. I usually try this around 2:00 am when I can't sleep. I am definitely not winning mother of the year.

Anyway, one of the many ways I have found to distract myself from the whole business is by listening to country music. I went through I country music stage in high school, even attending a Country Music "Fest" at one point, but have generally moved away from it since then. Until now. I tell you what, if you are going through something in your life, just tune in to the local country music station. These people have it BAD. Their moms, cousins, girlfriends, or cats are all dead. They have no jobs, no money, and no choice but to drink mass amounts of tequila. Despite it all they are quite proud of their cars, yards, and the US of A. They also display an impressive faith in God. All in all, these people are on to something.

So, realizing that I am just going to be a nervous wreck until I have this baby in my arms, in the meantime I thought I would let you know I am getting quite a lot of comfort from my new musical genre. I mean, at least my best friend's dog did not run off with my husband and I'm not drowning myself in "straight tequila night"s...right?

Vasa Who?

Control is a funny thing. I have always been someone who likes to have complete and total control over any given situation. I knew going in that pregnancy/parenthood was not really a "controlled" situation but these latest developments have really thrown me for a loop.

Yesterday I was officially diagnosed with vasa previa by the Maternal Fetal Medicine doctor at MUSC. This was a terrible experience, mainly because the doctor had one foot out the door the entire time she "explained" the condition to us. Her basic diagnosis was that I lived too far from the hospital to do anything if I started bleeding before my scheduled c-section and that I should try to eat a lot of red meat so my iron count would be high if me or the baby bled out. As you can imagine, my panic level was through the roof by the time we left.

Luckily for me, cooler heads prevailed (mainly my mom's and Parke's) and I was able to get an appointment today with my regular doctor. The nurse at my doctor's office said the magic words, music to my ears, "don't worry honey, we are going to get you a plan."

Now, I know plans rarely if ever go accordingly...but even a rough draft of a plan seems better to me than feeling like I have a ticking time bomb in my stomach. The only plan I have right now is to run around with a bloody steak in my mouth, so yes, a plan B sounds great thanks.

My automatic assumption is that the baby will be fine, because in my life everything has always turned out fine. I have always had faith that God is in control, and I still believe that...but there is that slight doubt that maybe I have been TOO blessed. People have terrible things happen to them every day, what if this is it and my blessings have been used up? I know in my heart that is not the way He works, but it is harder to wrap my head around the concept.

So back to control. In the midst of all of this, the copier machine at my office jammed. This was the kind of jam that involves taking out small parts and pieces with the machine blaring it's protest the whole time. The rest of the office decided to put an "Out of Order" sign on it until we could get professional help.

Two hours of taking the copier apart and putting it back together, I fixed the darn thing. It would be sad to try to describe the sense of elation I got when the screen confirmed that yes, it would copy again. My life may feel completely out of control right now, but the copier has never run so smoothly. And sometimes that is all you can do.