I meant to post yesterday after my first OB appointment, but I was just too grouchy. It went fine, in terms of the fetus (it's now a fetus!!!)-- measuring right on, wiggly as a worm, good heartbeat. BUT, what a colossal pain in the ass. I left my house at 11:40 AM and got home at a quarter to six. A little long for a doctor's appointment, don't you think? I'd forgotten how long appointments at my OB's office can take. Ugh. I shall break it down for you:
11:40 AM: depart for day care lady's house.
12:00 PM: drop D off so I can pay $40 for her to nap nearly the whole time I'm gone.
12:01 PM: reflect that I ought to go into the daycare business.
12:02 PM: remember the 6 years I spent getting my PhD and ponder what being in your house all day with 4 small children must be like.
12:03 PM: decide things are just fine the way they are.
12:30 PM: after driving a total of about 30 miles from house, arrive at chinese restaurant where meeting H for lunch before appointment.
12:31: restaurant closed for fourth of July.
1:15 PM: finish lunch at restaurant next door and head to doctor's office up the street. Doubt husband's navigational abilities only to be proven wrong. (I hate that.)
1:30 PM: emerge from depths of parking garage to arrive on time for 1:30 appointment.
1:30-2:00 PM: sit in waiting room.
2:00 PM: escorted back for weight and blood pressure check after having given urine sample (first of the day).
2:01 PM: assistant doesn't know how to use scale properly, or else I magically lost 20 pounds since yesterday. Ponder speaking up and decide to let it go and see how they react next time when they think I've gained 25 pounds in three weeks.
2:05 PM: finish disrobing and sit on exam table in inadequate paper vest and paper square for covering bottom half.
2:05 PM to eternity: remain on exam table as bladder slowly refills.
2:45-ish: nurse practitioner comes in with inch-thick chart, which she has clearly been browsing through. Nurse practitioner immediately disappears to fetch medical records I brought from RE and gave to receptionist.
2:50- 3:00 PM-ish: have lovely conversation with nurse practitioner regarding history of preterm labor. Decide will do what perinatologist recommended, which is transvaginal ultrasounds every 2 weeks starting at 16 weeks to look for a shortening cervix or evidence of funnelling. Discover must go back to perinatologist and pay out-of-pocket for nuchal translucency screen since I'm under 35 and they don't do them in the OB office anyway. Get lab slip for OB blood panel and thyroid hormone levels. Have exam, swabs, etc.
3:00 PM: nurse practitioner departs and says doctor will be right in for ultrasound.
3:05 PM: ponder emptying bladder before ultrasound.
3:05:15 PM: doctor comes in. This is the new one since I had D, who we've never met. Plans of reunion with Dr. Favorite fade.
3:06 PM: doctor fails to get clear ultrasound shot of fetus since fetus is being cruelly squashed by increasingly full bladder. Doctor claims has never had to ask a patient to empty bladder to get good picture. Doctor applies increasing pressure with wand against full bladder. Doctor chides me for allowing bladder to get so full and irritate already well-known-irritable uterus.
3:07 PM: doctor becomes apologetic after I testily remark that bladder was completely empty when I was first escorted into exam room about an hour ago.
3:10 PM: doctor mercifully asks me to go empty bladder.
3:13 PM: doctor gets a quick grainy ultrasound picture and measurement of fetus and immediately vanishes.
3:15 PM: H and I make another appointment for July 30th and gratefully leave the office.
3:15 - 4:00 PM: I fight early rush-hour traffic to do what should have been a 20 minute drive to pick up D.
4:00 PM: take D across street to lab and give 8 or 9 gallons of blood for lab work. Experience first attempt to provide clean catch urine sample (second of day) while juggling a 21-month-old.
4:30 PM: sit in traffic jam due to terrible car accident at intersection on way home.
4:55 PM: emerge from traffic jam and drop off prescription.
5:25 PM: emerge victorious from pharmacy with barely intact sanity.
5:25:15 PM: start car and gas light comes on. Groan and slap forehead.
5:35 PM: arrive at nearest gas station and fill up car.
5:45 PM: arrive home with 45 minutes to spare before need to leave for work and give 2.5 hour review session to lab students.
__________________________________
You can perhaps see why I did not, in the end, post yesterday. Having slept somewhat of a full night (my class doesn't end until 10:15 and it's a fair distance away) I am feeling somewhat more refreshed today. But, I do not want to have to repeat this experience every 2 weeks. What to do? I love the doctors at this practice, and they were great during the chaotic disaster that was my pregnancy with D. Plus, they deliver at the hospital with the best NICU for micropreemies and the special unit for bedresting pregnant ladies. We used to live much closer to their office, but we moved out here to Siberia right after D was born and I don't want to switch to someone local. If I did, and we had more preterm labor fun and this baby was delivered early, the hospital up here would send the baby in an ambulance down to the hospital this practice delivers at anyway, leaving me stranded in the Siberian hospital and far away from my terribly sick child. I think I'm just going to have to deal with the distance and leave things as they are.
Sigh. Off to decorate my flag cake. Firework fun tonight!! I hope D doesn't panic.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Sunday, July 01, 2007
I was getting a bit cocky there, wasn't I?
Today appears to be freakout time for me again--I am telling myself over and over again today that we are much more likely to lose this child to prematurity/preterm labor than a late first-trimester miscarriage. This is how I reassure myself. Great!!
I think distraction is the name of the game. We took D to the beach this morning and she ran around and threw cars down cliffs and got hit in the face with big waves and dug big pools and the tide flooded them. She loved it. She collapsed for her nap when we got back and she's still sacked out. Once she wakes up, though, we're going grocery shopping to get a few nights' worth of dinners and stuff for the Fourth. We're going over to a friends' house for BBQ and I'm responsible for dessert. I'm leaning towards this. Patriotic, eh?
H is currently attempting to turn up enough of our hideous clay soil in the backyard so that we can mix in some planter's mix and get a bed in reasonable enough shape to (finally) plant our herb/vegetable garden. We got all the plants yesterday so now we have to get them into the ground before we kill them from neglect. This has happened before. We are not gardeners. But we try.
I think distraction is the name of the game. We took D to the beach this morning and she ran around and threw cars down cliffs and got hit in the face with big waves and dug big pools and the tide flooded them. She loved it. She collapsed for her nap when we got back and she's still sacked out. Once she wakes up, though, we're going grocery shopping to get a few nights' worth of dinners and stuff for the Fourth. We're going over to a friends' house for BBQ and I'm responsible for dessert. I'm leaning towards this. Patriotic, eh?
H is currently attempting to turn up enough of our hideous clay soil in the backyard so that we can mix in some planter's mix and get a bed in reasonable enough shape to (finally) plant our herb/vegetable garden. We got all the plants yesterday so now we have to get them into the ground before we kill them from neglect. This has happened before. We are not gardeners. But we try.
Friday, June 22, 2007
SoCal
I am not originally from Southern California. I would probably be incredibly insulted if someone assumed I was. I grew up in the lovely, green, and maritime yet mountainous Pacific Northwest. People were always moving there from California. We natives hated it. They would sell their houses in California for huge sums and then buy houses in our area for more than we thought they should, driving up real estate values and thus property taxes. Traffic worsened considerably. Surburban sprawl got out of control. Now, I understand that these were common problems experienced by many urban areas in the eighties and early nineties, but where I come from, all the blame was put onto Californians. The entire metropolitan area seemed to unanimously elect the state of California as our scapegoat.
And yet here I am. I was pondering today, and I think I've unintentionally become one of THEM. It was your typical perfect Southern California day. D and I each went through not one but two bathing suits and towels apiece today. One for her morning swim lesson and one for our afternoon visit to the local playground/water spray park combo. We had mexican food for lunch with everyone who came to playgroup today at a local park. I drove around in the perfect summer sun with the top down on my car. We wear flip flops year round. I think $700,000 for a house is reasonable. We rarely use either the furnace or the air conditioner. My PhD diploma (from a public California university) is signed by "the Governator."
What happened to me? Unless we move soon, my kid(s?!) are going to grow up thinking this is normal. How very strange. It's odd how you can end up living an entirely different life than the one you always thought you'd have.
---
Pregnancy news: I came out of the closet to my playgroup. These women comprise the majority of my social life since we moved here. They know about our issues, so they were thrilled. One of them brought a neighbor I'd never met and her 2 children to the group, and after introducing me, added excitedly "and she's pregnant!!" The neighbor glanced down at the 40 pounds of bedrest pregnancy weight I'm still carrying from D and said brightly, "Yes, I can tell!"
Ouch.
And yet here I am. I was pondering today, and I think I've unintentionally become one of THEM. It was your typical perfect Southern California day. D and I each went through not one but two bathing suits and towels apiece today. One for her morning swim lesson and one for our afternoon visit to the local playground/water spray park combo. We had mexican food for lunch with everyone who came to playgroup today at a local park. I drove around in the perfect summer sun with the top down on my car. We wear flip flops year round. I think $700,000 for a house is reasonable. We rarely use either the furnace or the air conditioner. My PhD diploma (from a public California university) is signed by "the Governator."
What happened to me? Unless we move soon, my kid(s?!) are going to grow up thinking this is normal. How very strange. It's odd how you can end up living an entirely different life than the one you always thought you'd have.
---
Pregnancy news: I came out of the closet to my playgroup. These women comprise the majority of my social life since we moved here. They know about our issues, so they were thrilled. One of them brought a neighbor I'd never met and her 2 children to the group, and after introducing me, added excitedly "and she's pregnant!!" The neighbor glanced down at the 40 pounds of bedrest pregnancy weight I'm still carrying from D and said brightly, "Yes, I can tell!"
Ouch.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Graduation Day
It's official: we've graduated from the RE. They even gave us a certificate embossed in gold. Our doctor seemed embarassed and called it corny, so we proceeded to harass him mercilessly. I really like this guy and am sad to be leaving his practice behind. He always shakes hands with both of us when he comes into the room. Today right after he took my hand I blurted out about the strep. He glanced quickly down at the hand I had just shaken. Go ahead and wash them, I teased. (He did.) It's nice to meet someone as obsessive about germ transfer as I am.
The embryo is measuring spot on: 9 weeks 4 days. Good heartbeat. It was noticeably larger than last week. Lots of twitching around. We saw some nice fingers and lots of umbilical cord. The nurse gave me a hug before we left and I almost cried.
So now we look forward. We discussed screening options for chromosomal defects. When I got pregnant with D I was 28 and we weren't very worried about this stuff. We did the triple screen and that was it. Now I'm 31. Still youngish, but over 30. I don't think we'll do an amnio, but I am definitely going to sweat the triple screen (is it a quad screen now?) more than last time and am thinking of calling my OB office and inquiring about having a nuchal translucency scan done. I think they need to be done at around 11 weeks (?) but my first OB appointment isn't until 11 weeks 2 days. I need to read up on this a little.
H seems to be on an emotional roller coaster today. So far it's gone like this:
First waking thought: I wonder if May's throat and ear are still really painful.
30 minutes later: Oh good, she seems better today.
On the way to the fertility clinic: I wonder if we'll see a heartbeat today.
9:42 AM: There it is! Still beating!!!
9:43 AM: Nuchal translucency? What's that?
9:44 AM: Trisomy 13? Trisomy 18? Turner Syndrome? Those wouldn't necessarily have shown up on the ultrasounds already? Are you freaking kidding me?
I abandoned him in the parking lot a few minutes later, so hopefully he's thinking about work now and has stuffed all his pregnancy worries back into their box.
I am feeling wholeheartedly optimistic. I know we haven't gotten safely through the 20 week fetal anatomy scan, and there's a big risk of preterm labor again, and all the associated appointments and melodrama are looming, but all of that seems comfortably far off in the future. For now, I feel safe. What a refreshing feeling. I am going to enjoy it as much as possible for as long as it lasts.
The embryo is measuring spot on: 9 weeks 4 days. Good heartbeat. It was noticeably larger than last week. Lots of twitching around. We saw some nice fingers and lots of umbilical cord. The nurse gave me a hug before we left and I almost cried.
So now we look forward. We discussed screening options for chromosomal defects. When I got pregnant with D I was 28 and we weren't very worried about this stuff. We did the triple screen and that was it. Now I'm 31. Still youngish, but over 30. I don't think we'll do an amnio, but I am definitely going to sweat the triple screen (is it a quad screen now?) more than last time and am thinking of calling my OB office and inquiring about having a nuchal translucency scan done. I think they need to be done at around 11 weeks (?) but my first OB appointment isn't until 11 weeks 2 days. I need to read up on this a little.
H seems to be on an emotional roller coaster today. So far it's gone like this:
First waking thought: I wonder if May's throat and ear are still really painful.
30 minutes later: Oh good, she seems better today.
On the way to the fertility clinic: I wonder if we'll see a heartbeat today.
9:42 AM: There it is! Still beating!!!
9:43 AM: Nuchal translucency? What's that?
9:44 AM: Trisomy 13? Trisomy 18? Turner Syndrome? Those wouldn't necessarily have shown up on the ultrasounds already? Are you freaking kidding me?
I abandoned him in the parking lot a few minutes later, so hopefully he's thinking about work now and has stuffed all his pregnancy worries back into their box.
I am feeling wholeheartedly optimistic. I know we haven't gotten safely through the 20 week fetal anatomy scan, and there's a big risk of preterm labor again, and all the associated appointments and melodrama are looming, but all of that seems comfortably far off in the future. For now, I feel safe. What a refreshing feeling. I am going to enjoy it as much as possible for as long as it lasts.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Snarkiness
Teresa has a post up over at her blog describing some comments she recently made to people she works with who were being obnoxious. Now, I am an intelligent person with a quick mind. But I rarely manage to make the comments I want to. Dr. Doolittle, for example. Why didn't I demand a rapid strep test when I was in her office last Friday? I thought of it on the way home. Not terribly helpful. My brother always comes up with appropriate remarks in time, either hysterically funny asides, or else cutting remarks when people are being idiots. I never seem to be able to earn my share of this glory.
I was bemoaning this failure to say things at the right time when I remembered something that happened at the scan before last. My RE was observing with my husband as the physician's assistant did the ultrasound. The PA pointed out the embryo's (empty) skull. (This scan was at 7 weeks 4 days and the brain really doesn't start to develop until the following week.) So, we were all looking at the empty skull on the screen while she narrated, "There's the skull. No brains."
I leaned over toward H and remarked, "Well, now we know it's yours."
I guess I do have my moments, after all.
I was bemoaning this failure to say things at the right time when I remembered something that happened at the scan before last. My RE was observing with my husband as the physician's assistant did the ultrasound. The PA pointed out the embryo's (empty) skull. (This scan was at 7 weeks 4 days and the brain really doesn't start to develop until the following week.) So, we were all looking at the empty skull on the screen while she narrated, "There's the skull. No brains."
I leaned over toward H and remarked, "Well, now we know it's yours."
I guess I do have my moments, after all.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Plague
So, an interesting weekend. We begin Thursday afternoon, right after I put up my last post. I had awakened Thursday morning with that "I must have slept with my mouth open" dry sore throatiness that usually goes away over the course of a day. I was so focused on Thursday's ultrasound that I didn't think much of it. However, by Thursday night I was in a lot of pain. Mostly on the right side. No fever, no other symptoms. Aha, you say: she has strep throat. (But of course.)
An aside here on medical groups. Since we became very close to our OBs during the pregnancy with D (I did see them daily on their rounds for months, after all) we were hesitant to change doctors when we moved up here to Siberia three weeks after D was born. So, despite the drive, we decided to stay with the practice for any subsequent pregnancies. This means I must also see a primary care physician who participates in the same medical group. I have one I've seen maybe once in three years. It's a 45-minute drive.
Friday morning I am in severe pain and we call my primary care physician (let's call her Dr. Doolittle) and get an appointment that morning. I figured one office visit co-pay, one in-office rapid strep test, one antibiotic prescription and a trip to the pharmacy on the way home and my entire weekend needn't be hellish, right? You can see where this is going.
Dr. Doolittle did a careful exam and decided it was a viral throat infection, localized to one side. She said there were no white spots, no fever... she didn't think it was strep. Apparently my look of absolute disbelief registered on my face since she added, well, it is Friday... so I'll do a swab for a throat culture and write you an antibiotic prescription just in case. But, before you fill it, call me on Sunday for the results of the culture (she said she was on call all weekend and could access the lab results online) and don't start the antibiotic unless it comes back positive. Fine, I said, not wanting to take anything while pregnant unless absolutely necessary. She handed me a prescription for amoxicillin. Skeptically, I asked if this wouldn't cross-react with my penicillin allergy. Oh, no, she assured me.
Two hellish days later, I called Sunday around 10:30 for the lab results. She promptly returned the call to let me know she didn't have the results yet and would call me by 6. No call. The next morning (Monday) I called her office. Oh yes, the receptionist said soothingly (to an admittedly quite irate me), she'd have a nurse call back right away with the results. That call came through today at 10:30, nearly 4 days after the throat culture, and the morning after my first lecture of the summer session. Let me tell you, talking loudly for two hours through a raw throat was just a treat.
Well, you can guess. A "heavy growth of group A Streptococcus" and I should "start antibiotics immediately." No fucking shit, people.
It gets better. I broke all speed limits over to the pharmacy and handed the assistant at the register the prescription, carefully mentioning that I was (a) pregnant and (b) allergic to penicillin, and that I had doubts about my doctor's choice of antibiotic in this case. She consulted the pharmacist, who agreed wholeheartedly and immediately got my doctor on the phone. I left shortly thereafter with Azithromycin, safe for use in pregnancy and for people allergic to penicillin. The pharmacist seemed shocked that any physician would prescribe amoxicillin to someone allergic to penicillin and asked me if I had mentioned the allergy to her. I said I had told not only the woman who checked me in and took my blood pressure, but also asked the doctor outright about her choice of amoxicillin when she handed me the prescription, saying, "And this won't cross-react with my penicillin allergy?" The pharmacist sighed and shook his head. After I mentioned the 4-day wait for the diagnosis he also wondered aloud what kind of doctor's office doesn't offer a rapid strep test to someone presenting with my symptoms. An office about to have one fewer patient, I replied acerbically. I chugged my antibiotic in the parking lot with the last of my morning's forbidden delight, the mocha frappucino.
What do you think? Just change doctors, or dash off an angry letter as well? Am I overreacting? Let me mention that I have been absolutely miserable. I'm normally pretty stoic and this has had me in tears several times. I'm living from dose to dose of Tylenol and specifically mentioned my acute discomfort to Dr. Doolittle in her office Friday and again on the phone Sunday.
In other news, we told my mother-in-law about the pregnancy. We’re out of the closet! Hooray for optimism!
An aside here on medical groups. Since we became very close to our OBs during the pregnancy with D (I did see them daily on their rounds for months, after all) we were hesitant to change doctors when we moved up here to Siberia three weeks after D was born. So, despite the drive, we decided to stay with the practice for any subsequent pregnancies. This means I must also see a primary care physician who participates in the same medical group. I have one I've seen maybe once in three years. It's a 45-minute drive.
Friday morning I am in severe pain and we call my primary care physician (let's call her Dr. Doolittle) and get an appointment that morning. I figured one office visit co-pay, one in-office rapid strep test, one antibiotic prescription and a trip to the pharmacy on the way home and my entire weekend needn't be hellish, right? You can see where this is going.
Dr. Doolittle did a careful exam and decided it was a viral throat infection, localized to one side. She said there were no white spots, no fever... she didn't think it was strep. Apparently my look of absolute disbelief registered on my face since she added, well, it is Friday... so I'll do a swab for a throat culture and write you an antibiotic prescription just in case. But, before you fill it, call me on Sunday for the results of the culture (she said she was on call all weekend and could access the lab results online) and don't start the antibiotic unless it comes back positive. Fine, I said, not wanting to take anything while pregnant unless absolutely necessary. She handed me a prescription for amoxicillin. Skeptically, I asked if this wouldn't cross-react with my penicillin allergy. Oh, no, she assured me.
Two hellish days later, I called Sunday around 10:30 for the lab results. She promptly returned the call to let me know she didn't have the results yet and would call me by 6. No call. The next morning (Monday) I called her office. Oh yes, the receptionist said soothingly (to an admittedly quite irate me), she'd have a nurse call back right away with the results. That call came through today at 10:30, nearly 4 days after the throat culture, and the morning after my first lecture of the summer session. Let me tell you, talking loudly for two hours through a raw throat was just a treat.
Well, you can guess. A "heavy growth of group A Streptococcus" and I should "start antibiotics immediately." No fucking shit, people.
It gets better. I broke all speed limits over to the pharmacy and handed the assistant at the register the prescription, carefully mentioning that I was (a) pregnant and (b) allergic to penicillin, and that I had doubts about my doctor's choice of antibiotic in this case. She consulted the pharmacist, who agreed wholeheartedly and immediately got my doctor on the phone. I left shortly thereafter with Azithromycin, safe for use in pregnancy and for people allergic to penicillin. The pharmacist seemed shocked that any physician would prescribe amoxicillin to someone allergic to penicillin and asked me if I had mentioned the allergy to her. I said I had told not only the woman who checked me in and took my blood pressure, but also asked the doctor outright about her choice of amoxicillin when she handed me the prescription, saying, "And this won't cross-react with my penicillin allergy?" The pharmacist sighed and shook his head. After I mentioned the 4-day wait for the diagnosis he also wondered aloud what kind of doctor's office doesn't offer a rapid strep test to someone presenting with my symptoms. An office about to have one fewer patient, I replied acerbically. I chugged my antibiotic in the parking lot with the last of my morning's forbidden delight, the mocha frappucino.
What do you think? Just change doctors, or dash off an angry letter as well? Am I overreacting? Let me mention that I have been absolutely miserable. I'm normally pretty stoic and this has had me in tears several times. I'm living from dose to dose of Tylenol and specifically mentioned my acute discomfort to Dr. Doolittle in her office Friday and again on the phone Sunday.
In other news, we told my mother-in-law about the pregnancy. We’re out of the closet! Hooray for optimism!
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Perfect
Well, today's scan was just about perfect. Our RE clearly didn't have anywhere pressing to be, so we got the full treatment. Heartbeat: nice and fast. Length: measuring 8 weeks 5 days, or 2.1 cm. Yolk sac: still appropriately sized. Arm buds: present and waving. Umbilical cord: nicely visualized. The embryo twitched and wiggled about. We got a bunch of different views.
H took a very deep breath and visibly relaxed. Our RE got H to talk a little about his nervousness and H said he was still feeling especially anxious since a friend of ours recently had a miscarriage at 9 weeks, after seeing a good heartbeat. Our RE calmed H down considerably by telling him that in his experience, you usually have some sign if that's going to happen in a pregnancy as extensively ultrasounded as ours has been. Either the yolk sac is a little too big, or the heart rate is in the normal range but at the low end, or the gestational sac has an odd shape... something is just a tiny bit off. He said with us, everything has been spot on once we got the dates sorted out. He feels very confident that we will safely emerge from the first trimester.
(I know; knocking wood, throwing salt over my shoulder, etc.)
So, our worries have officially been transferred from another first trimester miscarriage, to another second trimester preterm labor fiasco. But that won't be a concern until the baby gets big enough to start putting some pressure on my cervix. Probably 18 or 20 weeks-ish. So, for now, we are starting to unwind a bit. I need to call my OB and get on their schedule. Next Thursday should be our last visit to the RE's office. I can't believe it.
I can also quit the Metformin, cold turkey. I'm frightened of gestational diabetes, but not so much that I'm not grateful to jettison those three pills a day. Progesterone continues for another week and a half or so. And my thyroid still needs to be monitored. The RE office checked it in January-- I had a TSH of 1.2 or something similar. Then they rechecked it after I got my first positive beta for this pregnancy, in May, and it had crept upwards into I believe the low threes. Should have written those numbers down. Anyway, still in the normal range, but climbing. He said to make sure my OB rechecks it fairly early in the second trimester. He'd rather have my TSH at the low end of the normal range because he says it's healthier for the baby. I need to read up on this a bit.
Anyway, it was really great. I have about seventy nine million things I ought to be doing while D takes her nap, so I'd best be off. Time to clean house.
H took a very deep breath and visibly relaxed. Our RE got H to talk a little about his nervousness and H said he was still feeling especially anxious since a friend of ours recently had a miscarriage at 9 weeks, after seeing a good heartbeat. Our RE calmed H down considerably by telling him that in his experience, you usually have some sign if that's going to happen in a pregnancy as extensively ultrasounded as ours has been. Either the yolk sac is a little too big, or the heart rate is in the normal range but at the low end, or the gestational sac has an odd shape... something is just a tiny bit off. He said with us, everything has been spot on once we got the dates sorted out. He feels very confident that we will safely emerge from the first trimester.
(I know; knocking wood, throwing salt over my shoulder, etc.)
So, our worries have officially been transferred from another first trimester miscarriage, to another second trimester preterm labor fiasco. But that won't be a concern until the baby gets big enough to start putting some pressure on my cervix. Probably 18 or 20 weeks-ish. So, for now, we are starting to unwind a bit. I need to call my OB and get on their schedule. Next Thursday should be our last visit to the RE's office. I can't believe it.
I can also quit the Metformin, cold turkey. I'm frightened of gestational diabetes, but not so much that I'm not grateful to jettison those three pills a day. Progesterone continues for another week and a half or so. And my thyroid still needs to be monitored. The RE office checked it in January-- I had a TSH of 1.2 or something similar. Then they rechecked it after I got my first positive beta for this pregnancy, in May, and it had crept upwards into I believe the low threes. Should have written those numbers down. Anyway, still in the normal range, but climbing. He said to make sure my OB rechecks it fairly early in the second trimester. He'd rather have my TSH at the low end of the normal range because he says it's healthier for the baby. I need to read up on this a bit.
Anyway, it was really great. I have about seventy nine million things I ought to be doing while D takes her nap, so I'd best be off. Time to clean house.
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