Tad has a new nickname over on Facebook. Exhibit A:
I'm thinking I need to find somebody to embroider "Never underestimate Shark Baby!" on a onesie for me.
During our July 4 ice cream date, Scott and I revisited the topic of baby names. We ended up with four boy names (first and middle) by bedtime that night, including one that hadn't been on our list before but which I have since latched onto like a leech because I love it so much. I hope Scott's not prone to changing his mind.
Girl names are harder, but we also have one first-middle combo if the baby turns out to be a girl. It's much more "timeless classic" than my favorite boy name (an "obscure saint" sort of thing), so it isn't as novel and interesting to me at the moment, but I'm sure I'll get bored of the boy name about in time for the anatomy scan and thus won't be disappointed if Tad turns out to be a girl after all.
(Actually, I'd be a teeny bit disappointed either way. This is the downside of coming up with good names for each sex. True, I'll probably have another baby later, but the names that are perfect for Tad might not be perfect for that baby.)
At some point in the last week, I went from "You know, maternity clothes might be a little more comfortable" to "I am going to crawl right out of my skin if I have to wear anything with a waistband." Fortunately, I had a big pile of maternity clothes, courtesy of my mother, that only needed to be washed.
I wasn't planning on doing another belly shot until 20 weeks, but since my mother has specifically requested pictures I might have to do a bonus 19-week shoot this weekend. Feel free to hold your breath in anticipation.
I thought I was doing a little better on the anxiety front this week, but I've been crying off and on since I got my blood drawn yesterday (it's 2:48 p.m. right now and I'm waiting for my callback), so...yeah. I know it's not a good thing when depersonalization is the only way to stop crying. I don't have a pretty ending to this take, but I have to put it here so you can all call me out if I don't have some kind of update on the situation in two weeks. Okay?
(The discouraging part is that I was doing so well in the six months or so before I got pregnant; I would have thought that 2 1/2 years of upward progress would have been enough to give me a bit of cushion. Turns out that if I take some hormones and dump supplementary hormones on top of those, I get knocked right back to square one. Postpartum is going to be fun, isn't it?)
I have been periodically having sort of early nesting fits, in which I want to organize All The Things. Of course, the trouble with pregnancy is that it's all physically limiting and stuff. I was sore for two days after I rearranged all the books on our bookcases the other week, and then I found another box of books that need to be shelved alphabetically. Boo. And this week I seem to have pulled a muscle carrying groceries up the stairs, so I have been sitting around like a slug. I wonder if I can convince Scott to unload and reload the dishwasher tonight, because I think we're out of spoons again.
Any ideas for productive things I can do that don't involve the use of my abdominal muscles at all? Because right now my only idea is eating some more chocolate. I might do that anyway. It has, like, magnesium in it, right? So it's good for the baby!
Speaking of vitamins, I switched to a prenatal that doesn't have iron in it today. I feel very daring, but considering my deep and abiding love for meat, I doubt I'm doing much of anything dangerous.
See, it started last Tuesday-ish, when I was getting severe abdominal pain just often enough to completely freak me out. I called my OB's office on Wednesday afternoon and talked to a nice lady who told me I probably just needed some fiber or something, but I should definitely go to the ER if it got worse or I started bleeding or anything. I love it when they make me sound less neurotic.
Anyway, after about 3 days of fiber supplementation I regained my mental faculties enough to realize that this whole abdominal pain thing started up shortly after I switched from chewy children's multivitamins to Taking Prenatals Like An Adult. (NB: I was taking an extra 800 mg of folic acid on top of the children's chewies. I have sensory issues, not stupidity.) So today I happened to be at Kroger and got some chewy prenatals that have everything but iron and calcium (...which are like the two most important things...) and some calcium chewies. My morning vitamin regimen is going to start looking like Willy Wonka's chocolate factory. On the plus side, hopefully going off the iron will help clear up the lingering digestive issues.
(My OB's office doesn't seem to care about my vitamin regimen much, so I didn't bother calling them again to discuss the iron thing. I'll bring it up at my next appointment, or sooner if it doesn't work to clear up the aforementioned lingering digestive issues.)
Dr. M's nurse just called back (at 4:50). Progesterone was 45.9, and he wants me to go off the injections again. I told the nurse to ask him if I could go down to once a week. Her: "He said you could stop the IM injections." Me: "I know. I'm arguing with him." Her: "OH." Me: "Sorry, let me rephrase: I'm proposing an alternative plan."
So she's leaving him a message. We'll see if I have to actually argue with him on Monday.
(I have the "Dr. Hilgers does it this way" trump card if he gets uppity. In fact, Dr. Hilgers' protocol says I'd have to be over 50 to start weaning down. I get it about following the curve and being in like the 40th percentile isn't bad and etc., but if we're making judgement calls I get to play that game too.)
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