My Cerclage

In September 2005, I was pregnant with twin girls. I lost my pregnancy at 19 weeks apparently due to my "incompetent cervix." I became pregnant again and wrote all about it on this blog. I now have a wonderful son. Since bed rest, anxiety and cerclage were so much fun, I've decided to do it all again.....

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Hillary Vs. Obama

What is a girl to do?

Let me start by acknowledging that I am proudly registered as a Democrat. Are you surprised? No, I don’t think so. Clue #1: I am a social worker. There aren’t that many Republicans as among us (I’m not saying that it's true across the board,it's just mostly true across the board). Clue #2: I live in San Francisco. There are not many Republicans among us, either. Put those two truths together and really, there is no doubt. Lest I go on an anti-Republican rant (you’re not all homophobic, racist people, right? You just support policies that turn out that way….) Shit. I ranted right there in the parenthesis. Sorry. Here I go again. Lest I go on an anti-Republican rant, let me get to the real point of this post.

I cannot decide between Obama and Senator Clinton. I fear I will be flipping a coin on Feb 5th to make this major decision between two worthy candidates. Here’s the rub. I like Obama better, but I do not want to like Obama better. Why not? Because I can’t believe that in America, the land of opportunity, the land of the free, the land of anything can happen in this country if we work hard enough—that in this country, we have shamefully, yes I wag my finger at us, shamefully, never elected a woman as a president of the United States. It is outrageous. Pakistan managed to do it and we haven’t?? WTF?

Here we are with a viable female candidate, one whose politics I generally agree with and whom I do believe would be a strong leader and yet…and yet I am about to vote for the guy. I am trying so hard not too. At first I just thought it was some societal sexism I have from growing up in our culture. Really, if there is something I can’t stand it is when women (like my mom, actually) just shake their heads and say, “I just don’t like her. There is something about her.” I hate it because I find it so small minded. But I also know what they mean. I wonder do we not like her because she seems cold, ambitious and power-hungry? And are these traits we would even notice in a man? Would I wonder if a man going for arguably the most powerful position in the world was “power-hungry?” I generally celebrate the differences between men and women and am very glad for my lack of testosterone, but there is a part of me that must ask if I am off-put by Hillary because she exhibits qualities that I am not traditionally used to seeing in a woman. Hence, I wonder if I am sexist. Then I decided. Nah.

Hillary has a sucky personality. My evidence is Madeline Albright. When I hear or see hear interviewed, I hang on her every word. I find her inspiring and powerful and truly admirable and not cold and robotic. I love Madeline. I’m down with women in power.

I have been watching the speeches after each primary. Time and time again, I watch Hillary (who I notice I refer to by her first name, and let the men have the respect of their last names. Maybe I am sexist after all) and I am unmoved. I want to be moved. But I am not. When Obama gave his speech after South Carolina, I was crying. Tears!! The husband walked in on me blubbering “Yes we can!” When Obama speaks, I listen. I want to take action. I totally buy into the whole thing. Change!! I simply have a stronger response to Obama. Plus, there is the pesky issue of the nepotism. How can we say this is a country for all if we end up having a Bush/Clinton/Bush/Clinton White House?

Don’t get me wrong. If Clinton wins the nomination, I will surely happily vote for her and shamelessly insist all women should do the same. But right now, my heart is with Obama!! Yes we can!!! I guess I am not torn after all.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Go Giants!

I can't say I am much of a football fan. I do come from a family of football fans. Even though I grew up with 4 brothers, it's actually my Mom who puts us all to shame with her fan hood. She watches sports all the time, and literally stays home on Sundays during the winter for the football games. You should have heard her last week, "I've been listening to Mike and the Mad Dog all week and they don't think it looks good." If you don't know who Mike and the Mad Dog are, it just means that you, like me, are not a sports fan. And also, you don't live in or around New York.

When I do engage in sports excitement, it is usually for hockey, not football. I can honestly say I was a true Rangers fan in high school. I knew the players, I knew the game and when they won the Stanley Cup and the curse was lifted, it was a great day. But I digress. We are talking football now. It is my family's curse to be die hard NY Jets fans. We tend to go for the working class team. I like the Mets. I like the Jets. The bridge and tunnel team with the embarrassing fan base that gets arrested for sexual harassment. That's always the team we supported in my house.

In any case, growing up, the message was clear about the NY Giants. If the Jets aren't going to make it, we root for the Giants with no shame. We are New Yorkers after all. That meant a lot of supporting the Giants since the Jets haven't won a super bowl since 1969. Have they even been in a super bowl since then? Husband grew up in Manhattan. The Giants and the Yankees are more his speed. What can I say, I am a suburban girl, and he’s a sophisticated city boy.

Last Sunday he wanted to watch football. It was unusual to see my intellectual husband jumping up and down and acting like a frat boy, even though his hipster glasses and sneaks scream that the word "Dude" is not actually a part of his vocabulary. Quinn and I were hanging upstairs listening to clapping and screams of "yeah!" that brought back images of childhood. All three of us watched some of the overtime, and the husband, bless is dorky heart, looked much more like himself when he looked at me all worried-like and bit on his finger in distress as the winning field goal was kicked. I like him much better than that jumping up and down "dude" guy.

Looong story short is that I am actually kind of excited to watch the big super bowl game. So...Go Giants (since I can't say go Jets. Sorry Jets)!!

Thursday, January 10, 2008

The Biggest Loser

All is well. All is very well. Quinn is the cutest ever right now. He's running around and talking up a storm. He understands so much and repeats so many of our words. It’s so fun when I actually understand what he says. He’s getting a real personality. I love it! And, it seems like life has settled into some sort of normalcy for us which feels good.

Yesterday we had a good doctor's appointment and ultrasound. Cervix is nice and long and closed. My contractions have diminished significantly. I like to spew that there is no proof that bed rest is useful, but I must say that consciously settling down does seem to have had an effect. Even before our little trip to labor and delivery on New Years Day, I had felt a lot of braxton hicks contractions. At the time, we were entertaining visitors, and while I wasn't physically walking more, all of the car hopping, restaurant sitting, party going, entertaining of out of towners and general psychological attention to these events seemed to be too much for my uterus. Now, even though I am working and arguably as physically active, just being back into our routine of home at night and my 5 hours of work a day seems to have done wonders. I also very consciously rest at least one hour a day now. Before, the hours before or after work were spent doing little chores or hanging with Quinn. Now I rest, even if it means and extra hour of Quinn with the nanny. I just have to do this, at least until 30 weeks. I do think it helps.

In other news, I saw the nutritionist at the doctor's yesterday because I was worried about gaining too much weight. It was extremely comical. At 26 weeks along, I was told that I am "done" with my weight gain since I have already gained nearly 30 lbs. Hahahahahahahahahaha! When I was pregnant with Quinn, I gained a good 40 lbs total. The rate I am going I am on track to gain more than that this time around. It’s ironic since I am not doing bed rest so far. In any case, the idea that I can't gain anymore is very funny to me. She did concede that if I do need to gain more weight in the next 14 weeks, I should keep it to about 5 lbs and that "people who are forced to do it for medical reasons can do it, so it is possible." I tried to keep my laughter about this concept that I won’t gain any more weight at bay as we plunged into my diet.

The news there isn't as dire as I thought. Apparently I don't eat horribly because I enjoy lots of fruit and veggies and drink a whole bunch of water. My big problem areas, apparently, are portion control (what is wrong with 3 heaping bowls of pasta?) and takeout food. Even as she was talking, our appointment starting hovering near the 5pm time frame and fantasies of pot stickers entered my brain. It's true, my mind wandered to the evening’s dinner and I thought, "maybe Chinese" right as she said, "takeout is really bad." She also said I need to eat more often because my portion problem can be linked to my gigantic appetite by the time a meal comes. I did try to have a healthy snack before dinner last night and when I ate dinner I did "start with my salad" before my pasta so I wasn't as hungry for my many bowls. Still, when it was all said and done, my instinct is to out cry and strike at this punitive approach to eating. I am freaking pregnant, and there is some terrible injustice to dieting while pregnant! I know I will have to watch it afterwards so why punish myself now? If there is a real risk to baby, then I will do what I need to do, but if it is just me?

Maybe a LITTLE more attention will be paid to healthy eating, but, um...pot stickers will still end up in my diet now and then. No doubt about it.

Wednesday, January 02, 2008

Happy New Year

The holidays were great. Except that I did waay too much and didn’t relax at all. You should have seen Dr. Cerclage's big furry eyebrows (he looks like the Grinch who stole Christmas—the kindly version) furrow with concern when I said we were hosting Christmas Eve and also having tons'o' East coast visitors. He said, as always, that all he wants is to reduce my stress and said, once again, that I could continue working, but I can tell he doesn’t love it.

The visitors all left last Saturday after 7 days of holiday activities. By Sunday, we had our first trip to the ER with Quinn. He got in a fight with a metal slide, and the slide won. The actual injury involved a few chipped teeth and a bloody gum. I didn’t think we needed to go to the hospital, but the advice nurse we called from the pediatrician’s office insisted that he must be evaluated. We spent hours waiting just to be told that there was nothing to do but follow up with a dentist if we felt like it. It was especially gratifying when the first year resident looked at his purple gum and chipped teeth and said, “hmm….teeth aren’t really my thing.”

At this point I was so exhausted that I was just grateful that we had another holiday so I didn’t have to go to work the next day.

So the next day, New Years Eve, we spent the entire day at multiple car dealerships! Even I am at the point of wondering if our 1995 Subaru that has over a 100 thousand miles on it is safe for a child anymore. The good news is that we ended the day getting a car (yay!!). The bad news? It took all day and something that started around 1pm didn’t end until 7pm. The visiting grandparents took Quinn for the night so husband and I could have a crazy night out.

We went out for dinner where I insisted we celebrate New Years on East Coast time (9pm). We yawned the whole meal through. We were in bed by 10pm. Asleep by 11.

Then yesterday, New Years Day, while still exhausted from all of this great activity the Braxton Hicks contractions (a daily part of life I sort of ignore) decided to go haywire. I had 6 cintractions between 9 and 10pm. I called the Labor and Delivery department. How many weeks? 24 or so? A cerclage? Come on in! So….the grandmother was called out of her bed and into our house. Husband and I went to the hospital where we remained until 1am. No contractions. No cervical changes. Cervix still looks about 3cm.

While I am extremely relieved, I am also feeling a little like maybe I need to slow down. The trip to L&D was a little wake up call. No need to play with fire while I just am touching viability. I am not anywhere ready to meet this little girl.

I have visits with all the peri’s in this week and next. I hope they don’t make me stop working, but I’ll do whatever they say. I promise. I am so not interested in any more emergency trips to the hospital for me or any family members!