The Nova Story: Chapter Three: The Cliff's Notes

Previous "chapters": One & Two

So, how did the pregnancy go?

The pregnancy was trouble-free for most of the first two trimesters. No morning sickness, no sensitivity to odors, no discernible fatigue (I didn't work, but had class from 6pm - 10pm, so I could sleep in, I'm sure that helped!), you name most pregnancy complaints, I did NOT have them.

However, my hands did start to swell and ache starting in the second trimester. However, that coincided with the start of our weekly Massage Clinics, where on a full session we'd have three back-to-back hour-long massages once a week, in addition to the hands-on stuff we'd do during regular class at least two other nights a week. How much was pregnancy-related, massage-related, or one feeding off the other? Who knows.
Sleep was a precious commodity: with Nova pressing on my bladder, I had to pee every two hours or so. Yes, through the night too. And I couldn't get comfortable anymore in bed, so was hardly sleeping. That was not fun, ugh.

I was also being monitored for Gestational Diabetes since diabetes runs strongly in one parent's family: I squeaked past the 3-hour challenge, but when the fetus doubled its weight in one month at ~ week 25, we knew we needed to start properly monitoring my blood sugar levels. I had was issued a blood sugar testing device, and had to test myself four times a day while recording all I consumed. The numbers were slightly higher than they should have been, but not atrociously so. The folks in charge wanted to me to meet with a dietitian to get better about my meals.

Then the PROM happened.

I guess that'll be Chapter Four.

The Nova Story: Chapter Two: Mum's The Word

[This post was started on the 15th of November last year; over two months later, I'll try to get this done between laundry loads, while the baby sleeps!!]

Chapter One was about finding out.

Kosh and I were in agreement that news of the pregnancy would NOT be publicised to anyone until we were well past the 1st trimester. We ended up breaking the news around Thanksgiving-time to immediate family ('live' with Kosh's side, and by mail to my Swiss & Malaysian sides), then via social media in January (Kosh via Facebook) and February (me, via Twitter and Facebook -- this was when "Nova" was chosen).

On the medical side of things, I'd neglected to get myself a local OB/Gyn despite having been in Springfield for over a year, so an immediate task was to identify someone, and make an appointment. Found someone, and was scheduled for an ultrasound on what turned out to be the fetus' 7th week. Couldn't see it via my belly so they had to stick a wand up my vajayjay, ugh. And Kosh wasn't there for that because he was running late *and* they actually took me in early. And I forgot the phone in the car. Gah! What a day! But hey, we walked away with baby's first picture:



I had started my Massage Therapy course about 2 months prior... since there are some contraindications surrounding massage and pregnancy, I had to break the news immediately to the main hands-on instructor. Coincidentally, the day I broke the news to her was the day she was teaching the "pregnancy massage" modality, LoL! Broke the news as necessary to some of the other instructors, and to my classmates at the end of the year. So yes, they knew before the official announcement in February :)

Next, I guess we'll cover some details of the pregnancy itself. The Cliffs Notes version: it was easy until we entered the 3rd trimester. Stay tuned!

Nova in November

Just when I think some sort of routine has been established, it gets thrown out the window :p I will slowly blog about the pregnancy and birth, but it's going to take a while.

In the meantime, I'm happy to report that Nova is over 6 months old, and we've just started subjecting him to solid food.
From the expression on his face I think he wasn't impressed, LoL!

Since the hubs is working on Thanksgiving this year, we are unable to show Nova off to his paternal relatives who have yet to meet him. Hopefully we'll have the occasion to do so before next Thanksgiving!!

For all those who celebrate, have a great Turkey Day! Happy Thanksgiving!!

Audio: ticked off at telemarketers!

(As I wrote this, I felt the need to SAY what I was writing... it took me the whole frigging day to figure out how to record *and* how to upload it onto the blog. Ugh! But I managed! Yay! So to listen to this post, click here! (Then click play on the Yahoo!MediaPlayer console) Enjoy!

When we moved to Springfield over 2 years ago, we very quickly found out that the phone number the phone company gave us had previously been 'owned' by one "Morten Harket" (not his real name, obviously) (anyone actually know who this is? -- No Googling!!).

Reverse Look Up told me that Mr Harket was a rather old person who lived in downtown Springfield, while all the telemarketing calls we received for him indicated he suffered from poor health. I speculated that he had passed away recently, and that the phone company had immediately recycled his number instead of letting it 'cool' for a bit.

At first it was just annoying, getting all these calls for Morten. I would politely say that we just got assigned the number; no, I have no idea how to contact him; please remove his name and number from your database. Most callers obliged.

One set of callers, however...

These were the diabetes-related calls.

And they kept calling.

The calls would come from 'blocked' numbers. The person on the other end was invariably Indian (which by itself wasn't an issue, don't get me wrong) who often seemed to be calling from his local coffee shop or something. Often he'd be having a conversation with someone else while making the call, and would start the conversation with me all laugh-y and unprofessional-like. And as soon as I said that "this number is no longer associated with that person, so please update your database accordingly," he'd go, "Oh. Are *you* diabetic, ma'am?" "Anyone in your family?" and really insist on just digging for information. Umm yeah, like I'm going to allow that. So *I* would dig in and say "Please just remove this name and number from your database." They in turn would insist on knowing my name, as if they couldn't move forward without that bit of information.

I refuse, they insist, and round and round we'd go.

Exasperated, I've asked to speak to their supervisor before, only to be told that they don't have a supervisor. And they won't give me their name or any information about their operation unless I tell them my name first. How fucking childish is that?

anyway...

I have NO IDEA what they are selling, I never let them get to their spiel. Excuse me for insisting that "this is not the diabetic you are looking for; move along, move along."

The second-to-last call received from this ilk was a few months back, and it was a bad one. After going through the whole rigmarole of 'please remove Morten Harket's name and number from your database' the guy kept insisting on wanting to know my name, and I refused to furnish it; he kept insisting, I kept refusing, always repeating "please just remove this name and phone number from your records", then he turned nasty andsarcastic asking "So, you don't have a name, is it?", or "Your name is "Doesn't matter", is it?". I actually used the f-word on him and hung up.

Come to think of it, it's been a while since I've had to field such calls.

Until yesterday.

And this call, my friends, has upped my anger levels to greater heights, because ... wait for it... they asked for "Kosh Naranek, who according to our records, is diabetic."

What. The. Fuck.

[I immediately figured that they finally got Morten Harket's name off the list, but left the phone number... and some genius did a reverse look-up of the number, got Kosh's name, and just put his name where Morten Harket's was]

I was pissed.

Big big.

I was very curt about "Your records are wrong. He is not diabetic, I am not diabetic. No one in our family is diabetic."

One small funny thing during this recent conversation? The guy's weird Brit/American accent slowly degenerated into an Indian accent.

The guy kept asking 'Are you sure no one is diabetic?"

And hey, whaddaya know, the guy kept asking for my name.

After receiving nothing but "No"s from me, he had the gall to ask "Where is Kosh?" when I'd already said at the beginning of the call that he was not available.

Then he asked for my name again, saying "I already have Kosh Naranek's name, may I have your name too?".

"Dude. You already have more information than you should ever have. You are also wasting my time and have invaded my privacy enough. You have no need for my name, and I am not giving it to you. For the tenth time, please just remove this name and number from your database."

I am only calling you for the first time, ma'am. (D'oh! Hyperbole was LOST on this one!)
Can I please have your name?
What's your name, ma'am?
Come on, what's your name?

"I am not giving you my name. Please remove my husband's name and phone number from your database. I'm hanging up now."

Then came this gem: I would luuuurve to know your name.

"Wha? Dude, you have got to behave-- you know what, it doesn't matter. I'm hanging up now, goodbye."

Bloody hell.

They all have this pseudo-flirty slimy attitude, but this one really rubbed me the wrong way... probably because I was so pissed at them now having Kosh's name in their system.

I think we are just gonna have to put our number on the Do Not Call list *and* screen all our calls, because I do NOT want to have to deal with these %$(*-ers again.

I just wish I knew where to lodge a complaint, not that I have any information about them apart from what I've just shared with y'all...

Of course, I could use the honey instead of vinegar route the next time, and get them to speak their spiel, and maybe get a name & phone number to call back because after all, my husband is the person they really wanna talk to ... and THEN I'd have somewhere to start ... ... although I don't know what I'd do next without a Garcia or a McGee around to dig for me, eh?

Yeah.

I really really hate these guys.

What about you?
Have you gotten similar calls?
Wanna tell me how you dealt with them?

The Nova Story: Chapter One: finding out

Back in October 2010 [HOLY CRAP THAT WAS A YEAR AGO ALREADY??!!], I thought I'd pulled a groin muscle or something, I was having these cramp-like twinges in the lower abdominal region. I also found myself cupping my boobs a lot, much to Kosh's amusement. Then said boobs started getting really sore.

It then occurred to me that it had been a while since my last period ... checked my calendar, counted forward, and whaddaya know, I was overdue for some bleedage.

The timing of this epiphany could have been better: Kosh was particularly stressed because he'd had a very long day and was having to pull an all-nighter for a presentation the next morning. I didn't want to add to/detract from his goings-on right then. So I kept my suspicion silent. After sending him to work in the early morning, I stopped by the local grocery store for some pregnancy tests.

Came home, peed in a cup and did the necessary.

And this is what greeted me.



If I'd had a proper smart phone, I'd have sent Kosh this pic. Instead, all I could do was send the following text message: "Ummmmm... guess what?"

He guessed right away :)

[Hmmmm, maybe we should have him guest post to say how he knew?]

Apples!

I'm supposed to be studying & reviewing for my Massage Therapy board exam... so it makes *total* sense that I'm putting together this apples-to-apples comparison of my big 'lil man instead. [click to embiggen the pix]

First, from a few weeks ago, we have what I thought was an apples-to-apples comparison, only to realise it might more properly be termed a Fuji to McIntosh comparison:The monkey swing is about the only constant: the comparison is still valid, but the geek in me wanted to reduce the 'noise' and produce what might be called a Gala to Gala comparison:
*grin!* The geek in me is satisfied, and I hope my few readers out there are mollified by these pix, making up for my continued blog absence.

I *will* be back!

Goodbye, boobjuice

It's been an uphill battle almost from the start.

I had no idea you could attempt to put newly-born babies to breast. Of course, when Nova was born, he was 6 weeks early, and went from my vajayjay into the hands of the neonatalists. Once they were done assessing him they asked if I wanted him on my chest - I hadn't even been sure if I'd be allowed to hold him at all. He was wrapped up, and I had a gown on.. I also had no idea what to do, so he just stayed on my chest. I remember remarking on how heavy he felt. So we missed out on initial skin-on-skin *and* immediate suckling. Did he had an oxygen mask on? I think so. I don't recall.

I don't remember *when* it was that we first tried getting him to nurse, but I do remember how he struggled a bit and the nurse immediately brandished a nipple shield and declared he needed it. That kinda set him and me up for expecting him to not nurse, y'know?

I also remember [another?] nurse being so aggressive about trying to get Nova to latch, by holding his head/neck and really roughly waggling his head up and down into my boob, and Kosh and I sat shell-shocked, totally unable to process what was going on.

I also remember that I didn't even start pumping until about 24hrs after Nova was born, because I had no idea what to do, and hey whaddaya know, I musta slipped through the cracks of the lactation consultants' system. They say the first few days are vital in establishing the necessary connections within the mammary tissue. Ummm, oops?

No one told us that we could get one month's free rental of a breast pump... not until Kosh mentioned to a NICU nurse that I was trying to pump but the manual pump was really a pain. Two days after I was discharged. Four days after Nova was born. We got the pump the next day.

Nova was in the NICU for 10 days. Most of the time, he underwent phototherapy, and there were strict instructions as to how long he could be taken off of the lights for feedings. Max 30mins, but at one point it was max 15mins. Fifteen minutes. To try to put a days-old 6-week-early baby to breast PLUS bottlefeed the required volume of food. To say that visits were stressful is putting it mildly.

Already early on, despite my milk having come in, I was not producing enough. When his feed volume was upped to 2 oz/feed, they already started supplementing with formula (without telling us! Sure, they 'warned' us that they would need to start supplementing with formula, but as far as I am concerned, I didn't pick up on the immediacy).

While Nova was in the NICU, I *was* able to pump on a regular basis. I think I pumped about 6-8 times a day (later I found out I should have been doing every TWO hours... but again, I musta slipped through the cracks... I figured I should pump at the same frequency that they were feeding him at the NICU: every 3 hours), and I actually got up to almost TWO ounces PER BOOB at my best.

Once he came home, though...

by the time he came home, I had convinced myself that he wasn't able to nurse properly, that it wasn't worth the effort to sit and try to get him to latch PLUS supplementing with a bottle (either pumped boobjuice or formula)... especially when he was also crying a lot, and I had no idea how to handle him, and I was doing this all totally solo.... .... .... and the little downtime I had in between feedings I chose to unwind on the computer rather than tie myself for another 20mins to the frigging breastpump

... so the pumping suffered ...

At six weeks I asked for and got belated help from a lactation consultant: the advice felt like a step backward because I was supposed to nurse nova every 2 hours then supplement with 2oz boobjuice/formula then pump for 15mins, while by that time Nova was on a 3(-ish) hour interval. Also, that entire routine would take almost 1.5hours, leaving me with about 30mins before the entire rigmarole was supposed to begin all over again.

But it did get my milk back up a little... and [after a LOT of coaxing] I could get Nova to latch on... [and later, he'd latch on without the nipple shield, yay!!]

... but once again ... the whole feeding thing required so many things upfront: I had to prepare the bottle first [either prep fresh formula, or warm up refrigerated formula or boobjuice], then try to nurse, then feed him the bottle, then try to burp him, then be able to leave him so I could clean up and pump... then clean up the pump equipment...

.. oh and did I mention that he gets upset really fast when he's not fed? And that he doesn't give much warning that he's hungry? I began skipping the nursing step and would just shove the bottle in his mouth (once I managed to get it prepared) rather than try to nurse him, then deal with more screaming while I got the bottle ready.

Does that even make sense to anyone? It made sense to me, anyway. Anything to make the screaming stop sooner, longer.

and between all this I was supposed to sleep? Eat? Do laundry? Stay sane?

... and I've not covered the fact that for the longest time, Nova was pure gremlin, turning into a screaming monster between midnight and 6am most nights. That I just could NOT burp him and therefore he'd spit up SO MUCH, EVERY TIME.

... there was so much going on, the last thing I wanted to do once I had any down time was to submit to getting my boobs pumped.

so I pumped less and less often each day

and so we then find us about 3.5months into Nova's time here, with boobs that produce barely 3mLs each when pumped...

... today was the final straw, though.... at the weekly moms' breastfeeding support group session where we get to do a before/after weighing, Nova spent a good 20mins on each boob, suckling away, and I could have sworn he took some good swallows like he usually does, so I was expecting we'd have a 10g gain, as usual ... but he had ZERO weight gain to show for it... zero ...

that's been popping in and out of my head all day ... zero gain ...

all is not lost, if I can commit to pumping the hell out of my boobs every two hours all over again.

I can't.

I have tried. I can't.

I've popped fenugreek; I've drunk nursing tea; I am even taking some mammary health pills made from cow boobs or something. Unfortunately I am also taking anti-histamines for my allergies. Depending who you believe, the anti-histamines dry me up, or don't. I'm guessing for me they cancel out whatever benefits I may be getting from these supplements.

There *is* a drug option. But Kosh is leery about going that route, citing concerns about side effects. I step back and look at myself, and agree that I don't want to mess with my body even more than I already have.

I've sought help/advice from a few different/alternative sources/approaches, and they all point to my liver.

What I will do then is work on cleansing my system, especially my liver. This will require losing weight, exercising more, eating better... but I will also be consulting an acupuncturist... and working on my own long-neglected meditation and foot-soaking...

... in the hopes that whatever obstacles to breastfeeding / breastmilk production that come from *me*, I will have tackled and cleared so that *if* Nova ever gets a little brother or sister, we'll have a more successful breastfeeding effort.

and if you read this all the way through, wow, thank you :) I'm not going back to reread it until after I hit publish, I know it's going to be a rather incoherent mishmash of thoughts :p My eyes are raw, but my heart is slightly less broken. Or, I guess I've managed to blunt the edges of the pieces a little bit.

I still intend on blogging about the whole hospital and birth experience; I just had to let this out first.

Ciao.