The Ava Chronicles: Naps are Optional

The decision to continue on the blog has made me think about what to continue writing about. Since this is basically being used now therapeutically, I guess, dear reader, you get an insight into my life and inner workings of my brain and life with Ava.

 Before Ava my life was pretty standard - get up, go to work, home for dinner/TV/housework/Girl Guide activities and to bed to do it all over again. My life changed in August and no day is quite the same. Hospital life was a lot different than home life. Hospital life had a schedule, home life has no schedule that I have been able to figure out which I am learning is normal with a baby.


Nap Protest

Ava and I have been hanging out together for almost two months now (I know, where did those two months go?!). I have learned a lot about this little human, including the fact that she does not want to nap. Naps have become optional around here this week. She would much rather sit in her swing for an hour cheerfully making happy noises than lie in her crib. I have purchased a couple of books based on recommendations from fellow mommy friends to help get inside the brain of a baby. I suspect this still won't help 100% but it's a start. She has been sleeping fairly well at night which Dave and I are thankful for.

I might have also been the cause of the nap protest. With everything going on related to Mom's estate Ava has been on the road with me a lot. We usually end up in Erin and she naps at my Mom's house while I start the process of sorting. Other days she ends up on the road with me as run other errands, go to appointments or just go out for a drive.

Ava's First Movie

Last week we ended up at the movie theater for Stars and Strollers. For those who don't know about this wonderful service, it allows parents/family members with little ones the opportunity to go to the movies and bring their little one's along. You get the option of 2 movies on Thursday afternoon (or whichever day your theatre decides) and instead of a pitch black, loud theatre, you get a dimmed, quieter theatre with a change table and stroller parking included. Stroller parking is limited, but when we went to the movie the theatre wasn't full so we were able to park (I think there was a lot more people in the other movie option).

Based on recommendations of avoiding a movie that had a lot of plot and talking (in case she got fussy and I missed parts of the movie) I decided her first movie would be Trolls. It turned out to be cute. Who doesn't love brightly coloured animated figures singing with a good message about happiness being inside of you and not something you consume (spoiler alert - the "bad guys" thought the only way to be happy was to eat a troll, kind of morbid for a children's movie) or gain from outside? I also happened to spill my entire tray of nachos on the floor at the lobby. Thank goodness for the wonderful staff for cleaning up my mess as I profusely apologized and getting me a new tray of nachos.

Ava enjoyed sleeping through most of her first movie.

No Naps = Photo Shoots

Once upon a time, we bought a "fancy" camera. I put "fancy" in quotations because there are much fancier cameras out there, but this is very fancy to us compared to our run of the mill point and shoot digital camera. Dave had to convince me before we went to Italy in 2014 that investing in this camera would be great for the trip and we could use it in the future to take pictures of future children. I gave in only because if we were only going to make it to Italy once in our lives, I wanted the best possible pictures to look at when I turn 80 (why 80? who knows, seems like a good age to look back on photos from a trip we took in 2014). It turns out this investment was great! Now when Ava refuses to sleep I pull it out and take pictures of her until she gets grumpy. It's been amazing watching her growth already through the photos over the past almost 8 weeks. When Dave was packing his hospital bag for Ava's birth day, I probably asked at least 5 times if he packed our fancy camera. I really wanted pictures of this day to look back on when I'm 80, or as I do right now, just about every afternoon after Ava's photo shoots. I love watching how much her face has changed already. It's going to be fun to look back through her first year one day and reminisce about how small she was.

Ava also likes to look at her pictures. 

Introduction to Binge Watching

When we aren't running the roads, going to the movies or doing photo shoots, we watch Netflix. Thank goodness for Netflix. I don't know what I would do without it. Daytime TV is seriously lacking. I don't enjoy a lot of the talk shows and don't get me started on soaps. Some days I watch what I PVR'd the previous evening because I usually missed the episode because of hanging out with Ava. If for some reason, I ended up watching my show the previous night we head to Netflix to introduce Ava to the fine art of binge watching. What has been on our playlist lately? Gilmore Girls, of course. I started watching the 1st season again in the hospital, but didn't make it to the 2nd season. In the past 3 weeks we have rocked through the 2nd season and are slowly making it through the 5th. The goal was to finish my 3rd viewing, Ava's first, of the series before tomorrow when the revival comes out on Netflix. I think I will have to let go of this goal and just jump to the new episodes as there are not enough hours in the day to get through all the coffee-drinking, fast-talking, quirky character filled episodes of Gilmore Girls. 

What kind of question is this Netflix?

After tomorrow, we will have to find a new show to binge watch during feedings and sleep fighting, any recommendations out there? 

Learning How to Swim

It’s been almost 3 months since my life changed forever with the loss of my mom and almost 2 months since my life changed again with the birth of my daughter. It’s been a while since I blogged about anything as so many emotions have occurred over the past three months and it’s sometimes hard to put them into words, especially on paper and to be shared so publicly. I had full intentions of just blogging until Ava was born, as a way of mass updating everyone. Today I had a realization that this was more of a therapeutic outlet for me as I struggle with two different worlds as well as a way of updating anyone who is interested in what Ava and I (and Dave, of course) are up to.

With the holidays approaching there are a lot of mixed emotions right now. Christmas is my absolute favourite time of year. I usually beg Dave to let me put the decorations up as soon as November 12^th hits. We have an agreement that decorating cannot occur until the day of the Toronto Santa Claus parade. Typically I know the date off by heart. This year I had to look it up and am really debating how much, if at all, we will decorate. I was at my mom’s yesterday going through boxes in the basement with one of my aunt’s and one of my uncle’s and a lot of emotions and memories came flooding back. Christmas was sometimes a hard time of year for my mom as we often did not have a lot of money to celebrate the way we did when we were younger. She was able to make Christmas special for us and usually worked like a crazy person throughout December to be able to give us special presents. I realize now that the presents weren’t that memorable, but the times spent with her and our family was. In recent years, she would occasionally make her way up to the beach to spend Christmas with Dave and I. We didn’t do anything elaborate, just a nice meal and a day spent resting and relaxing with Christmas movies, something my mom rarely did when at home. Last year, our gift was paint. I know this seems like an odd Christmas gift, but mom always got us something that would make our house a home. Looking around our home right now there are so many things that my mom made or bought/found for us. Last year, in true Gwenda fashion, she woke up, put her paint clothes on and started painting our feature wall. These memories make it so hard this year to get into the spirit, even with it being Ava’s 1^st Christmas.

As I prepared to leave my mom’s house yesterday, I sent Dave a text message about having a really hard time leaving today. He asked why? I really didn’t have a good answer for that. Reflecting back on it, I think it’s because I was waiting for her to appear so I could say hello and give her a massive hug. That was the first time I had truly been alone in her house without her. It was really hard to leave knowing I couldn’t say hi or goodbye properly. The reality of the situation hit me that the lead up to Christmas this year will be organizing and sorting out her things in preparation to sell her house. This is a very different holiday season than any other year.

On the other side of my life, I want to make this year special for Ava. I know she will only be 3 months old and likely won’t remember if we will have a Christmas tree or decorations out but I will. I have struggled with what to do as I am struggling with how to approach the festive season. I don’t want to look back on pictures and see our regular home décor and regret not setting things up for her this Christmas. At the same time, celebrating will be hard this year.

To anyone reading this, I am sorry it was so sappy. It’s been a while and there are so many emotions this year. As I close one life and open another, it’s sometimes easy to lose track of myself. I find that this blog is very helpful for me to get perspective on who I am as I am stuck somewhere in the middle of grief and joy. Thank you for reading and continuing to be interested in my ramblings. I appreciate every single one of you for being in my life and riding this crazy wave with me. 

A joyful find yesterday - my baby shirt from the hospital

September 29th – The Longest Day of My Life

This pregnancy has been full of many days of waiting as well as many ups and downs, so why would the date of Ava’s scheduled C-section not follow suit? It sounds like several of you were waiting patiently to see the update on Facebook about the good news. I have been told by many friends who were Facebook stalking me that as the day went on the worry increased. So here’s the story of September 29^th…the day that feels as though it’s never ended.

Ava Catherine McKay

Born September 29th, 2016 at10:19pm

I hardly slept all night. This was like Christmas and my present was going to be one of the best of my life. My night nurse (who happened to be one of my first nurses’ during my stay) came in at 6am to check my vitals and update me about the prepping me for the rest of the day around 7am. At 6:30am, my Aunt Kim, Aunt Sheree and Debbie (one of my mom’s best friends who might as well by my Aunt) came into my room. Since my roommate was still sleeping we all went down to the patient lounge to chat and wait for Dave. Little did we know there was a truck that had hit a sign on the 400 and Dave was stuck in horrible traffic. It took him just over 3 hours to get to Toronto when it usually takes 2 hours. My stress was increasing when he hadn’t arrived by the time I was hooked up on the IV and changed into a gown. He finally made it around 9:15am and I was thankful that I hadn’t been pulled over to Labour and Delivery yet. At 10am, one of the OB’s came to see me to complete a final ultrasound to finalize where the incision would be. I was a little annoyed as 10am was when I was scheduled to be in the OR, but over the past 34 days I had learned that the hospital runs on it’s own time. We were told that Labour and Delivery was quite busy with a lot of emergencies, so we would have to be bumped until they were emergency free.

Back to my room in the antenatal unit we went to sit and wait. At 12pm we were finally taken over to Labour and Delivery. The unique thing about this room was it was the first room I was ever admitted to at Mount Sinai following my first PRI on August 17^th.  By this time, I was getting hungry (saline really does nothing to curb ones appetite). The hours started to tick by and the annoyance factor started to increase. Rational Sheena understands that if there is an emergency it should take precedence over a stable patient. Rational Sheena would have never forgiven herself if any woman lost their baby because a stubborn patient wanted to go in first. Rational Sheena was also missing and replaced with Hangry Sheena, Impatient Sheena and Tired Sheena – not my finest traits, especially when combined together. The nurse came in around 2pm to let me know that I had been bumped once again. I asked if my support team had enough time to go get lunch as I could tell they were fading. The team went downstairs and I was left upstairs with my nurse where I might have had a little breakdown. My team came back and we decided to watch TV to pass the time. Every hour or so, we were told again that I had been bumped. I am not good at waiting, so I decided to use the little energy I had left to pace the halls and walk (scowl) at the nurses station, checking out the monitor behind the station to see if my name had popped up on the OR list yet.

At 6pm, the OB surgical team FINALLY came in to tell me there were two ahead of me and I was definitely next following them…pending no further emergencies. With two OR’s open this meant I should be in there around 7:30/8pm. Excitement mounted in the room – it was almost go time. We took a few last photos of my last hour of being pregnant. I went for one more walk around the unit to try to distract myself from hunger pains and nerves when I saw a stretcher being wheeled into the OR – presumably another emergency. At this point, I was DONE. I would need to rate this blog posting R if I wrote what I actually said to Dave, but it was something along the line of if they don’t do this soon, I am going to lose it. They are either doing it now or I am eating. Imagine that sprinkled with some expletive words and that’s close to what was actually said. No wonder the nurses had stopped coming in to give me the bad news that I had been bumped.

Just before 10pm my nurse came in and said it was go time! I am certain a cheer went up in the room, but I was so tired by this point that most of what happened is a blur. I remember walking through the doors I stared at all day with Dave by my side. Dave was sent to the partner chair in the hall while I was brought into the OR to be prepped. My Anesthesiologist, Dr. Ho, started the party off with some 90’s dance music (think Night at the Roxbury) and a nice spinal for me. I will spare you the rest of the fun details. Those of you that have had a Caesarean section probably have flashbacks of the moment that the surgical team is applying so much pressure to get your baby out that you are certain they forget that there is an actual person attached to body they are working on. The stress and emotion of the day went away as soon as I heard her little cry (well, big cry) at 10:19pm – almost 12 hours after I had expected to hear that cry.  Dave got to take many pictures of her first moments and got to cut her umbilical cord while I got to watch her on a little screen by my head. Earlier that day I had prepped Dave that if they took her up to the NICU to follow her. We really weren’t certain if she would have been allowed to come back to the recovery room with us. As I watched her get oxygen, I worried that she would have to go and I wouldn’t get to meet her until September 30th. Much to my surprise they handed her to Dave to introduce her to me. After all was said and done (and stitched up) Ava got to come back to the recovery room with us and meet her Great Aunts as they popped the prosecco they had been waiting all day to pop. They left shortly after so they could finally go home to get some sleep and my little family was whisked off to another room to recover for the night.

First (of many) family photo!

I deeply regretted all the pacing of the halls I had done since I was now exhausted and as the spinal wore off the pain came on. The only great thing about that night was getting skin-to-skin time with her from 5:45am to 7:45am. The rest of that day was dreadful and any updates that went out were from Dave as I was in a lot of pain despite the meds. It took all my might to use my physiotherapy knowledge to get mobilizing and walking instead of staying in bed. We were moved to the recovery floor where the mom’s with healthy babies go. I was a little heartbroken that I was not headed back to my old unit as I thought it was only fair that the nurses that cared for me for weeks be the first ones to see and hold the baby, but alas they deemed us healthy and up to the 16^th floor we went. The afternoon and night were equally as horrible, very little sleep was had due to this recent onset of right shoulder and rib pain that left me basically useless. I had to sleep sitting up and couldn’t care for Ava. Thank goodness Dave took onto the role of Dad very quickly.

On Saturday morning, I finally left the room on the recovery unit for a walk. The OB resident came to see me and told me that we could go home that afternoon. The prospects of going home were quite motivating. I did everything I could to hit all the checkmarks to go home, including going to breastfeeding class, seeing a lactation consultant and trying to get rid of the right shoulder pain. Around 11am, my nurse told me that I could attend discharge class at 1pm and go home shortly after that. We attended, were given a vast amount of information about what to do when we got home as well as Ava’s temporary OHIP card. We had one more checkmark which was checking in with the lactation consultant again. She was surprised I wasn’t being made to stay another night, but signed off on the plan. 

Ava got to meet Mouse-Pig

I was finally allowed to leave Mount Sinai, but not before I went to say goodbye to the unit I lived on for 34 days. Thankfully, so many of the nurses that cared for me were there that afternoon and not doing active care so were able to chat. It was there that I learned that my roommate (who was 28 weeks + 4days) had gone into labour that day and was over in Labour and Delivery having an emergency Caesarian (she emailed me later that day to let me know that her little one was born at 3pm at 2lbs and 10oz and had a lengthy NICU stay ahead of her). I went up to the NICU before I left to visit with another roommate from the unit and meet her little one. After this, we were off! I was officially allowed to leave and not just me, Ava was allowed to leave. We were the fortunate ones from 15 Murray. Most of the women that spend their pregnancy there are allowed to leave at the end, but usually their babies spend time in the NICU. Despite the day feeling never ending (is it still September 29^th today?), it was worth it to finally meet Ava and to stop calling her Baby A. 

Ava 

Wacky Wednesday - The Curse Continues.

Oh Wednesday, my last Wacky Wednesday before baby. Last night I went to bed thinking this day would be as uneventful as the past several days. I made a to-do list of important tasks that I wanted to get done before the weekend, especially some that are related to my Mom's estate (dealing with that while in the hospital has been very difficult. I can't wait to get home so I can have a private conversation on the phone and get some things figured out). I like to plan ahead to keep myself busy. I knew for sure I was not attending Art with Hal on my last wacky Wednesday. Warning - this is a long post!

My day started super early and I am not an early bird. I hate that the nurses come check on me at 6:30am or earlier, especially after my night check was at 10pm last night. I have been stable for quite some time, so it gets very repetitive to hear the same thing at every check. My night nurse forgot that I had to go back on the monitor (NST) last night since A was not being her usual self after her very active ultrasound. Let me back my story up a little. I had, what I thought was, my last ultrasound yesterday. Tuesday is ultrasound day and I love it because I get to see A rocking out. She was definitely true to her style and rocking out hard, so hard that the ultrasound nurse had difficulties getting the measurements of the artery in her brain. When she did end up getting the measurement it was high, which usually indicated fetal anemia. She attributed it to the activity that A was doing because there was no other indications of fetal anemia, but said she would mention it to the OB's and they might schedule me for another ultrasound on Wednesday. My nurse told the OB's just wanted a second NST ran. At 6am, my lovely night nurse hooked me up to the monitor as we bantered about movie theatre nachos and street meat (she told me there is a hot dog cart behind Sick Kids that's open all night). She also took blood in preparation for my C-section on October 3rd to check my platelets and other important markers. After 20 minutes A's reading was deemed "beauitful" and back to sleep I went until 8:30 when breakfast was delivered.

I finally decided at 9am that I should stop lounging around and actually eat my breakfast and start getting ready for the day. My roommate and I had our usual chats about the day and being tired after the 6am wake-up call. We decided that we should shut out door and writer "We're stable, we'll call you if it changes" and go back to bed. She went to the washroom and started yelling that she was bleeding. Having experienced this myself and recognizing the panic in her voice I yelled to "pull the cord" (I learned one day, accidentally, that when the cord gets pulled everyone comes running). Suddenly our room was full of nurses and my roommate was set up on the monitor. I was truly worried I passed my wacky Wednesday curse to her. Her baby was deemed fine and off the monitor she went. Morning life resumed and we both went downstairs to get our hot beverages (her -tea, me - coffee + a cookie). I came upstairs while she went outside to enjoy some fresh air.

As I was enjoying the last of my cookie, I was whisked away to an ultrasound where I learned the measurements from yesterday hadn't changed despite A being less active today (the nurse described yesterday as her being on a treadmill and today her doing yoga). I knew something was up when the OB was pulled in. She explained the situation about the possible anemia and weighing the risks and benefits of keeping her in there until Monday. She asked how I would feel having the baby in the next 48-72 hours. She said she would be back to see me shortly in my room, but advised me not to eat or drink anything until she had come to chat about the new plan.

I got back to my room. Frantically called Dave to let him know of the situation while I hide in my hiding nook with the Mouse-Pig picture and assured him I would text him as soon as I knew anything more. During this time, lunch was delivered - mac and cheese Wednesday!! Love mac and cheese Wednesday, especially knowing it was my last. Around this time, I watched my old roommate get wheeled over the the other side (Labour and Delivery). I chatted with her husband and he told me that her tracings of the baby's fetal heart were abnormal and they were preparing to deliver her little girl. More wacky Wednesday curse being passed along.

After pacing the hall several times, I went back to my room and waited for the doctor. I was given the news - the surgery was booked for 10am tomorrow and I could eat until midnight tonight. She did warn me that it could be delayed if there was an emergency so I am hoping there are no emergency deliveries that bump me. After the OB left, I came to realize this is my LAST day being pregnant. I did not anticipate this until at least Sunday (Oh no! Sunday was my last cinnamon scone). My actual OB is in Rome on an ultrasound conference until next week, so my whole team has changed. I am unusually comfortable with this.

In addition to Dave I had to let my Aunt's and pseudo-Aunt's (my Mom's two best friends, Debbie and Lorraine) know that the plan had changed. They were all coming down Sunday night to have a slumber party at a condo close by, so I had to let them know the slumber party date would change. These women are so excited for this baby and are coming in to represent my Mom...and also sneak some champagne in. We need to celebrate after the past several weeks.

On another note, it's so strange to think that it's my last night being pregnant. Tonight will be the last night I waste time walking up and down the halls, the last night I will get to feel her little kicks in my belly, the last night of baby gymnastics and the last night without a little baby to care for. I am very thankful it's the last night I have to worry about a placenta related incident. The stress of this pregnancy will be over and the adventure will begin. It's so weird that my day tomorrow is planned for me and I won't have to wake up wondering what Thursday holds.

All day long though I have wished that my Mom could be here.

Becoming a Mom Without Mom

This post has taken a while for me to write. I’ve started writing it over and over again in my head the past two weeks but hadn't been ready to share until now. I was always hesitant to share because I worry about how much I should share about my mom and how her loss has affected me. I definitely don’t write this looking for sympathy, but rather to share my feelings about losing her at a time when I need her and share some insight into what an amazing person she was. I know for certain I am not the first or the last to lose their mom so close to becoming a first time mom, but what I do know is that it really sucks and I have the utmost respect for any other mom out there who has dealt with losing their mom during a time when they needed her. It’s really hard to believe she’s been gone almost 6 weeks already.

My Mom has always been my pillar of strength, cheerleader and number one fan. My parents separated when I was 12, I won’t get into details but she became a single mom at this time.  She sacrificed so much during our teenage years to make sure my brother and I always had the basic necessities, often sacrificing her own needs and comforts and working countless jobs to ensure we had a roof over our heads, food in our bellies and clothes on our backs. She was so happy when she finally had enough money saved to buy a little house and build a shop on the property to work in. Other than Cody and me, her house was her pride and joy and it showed. She was also passionate about gardening and her backyard displayed that immensely. She loved her backyard so much she offered to hold any party that came along back there in the summer months, from birthday parties to random just for fun parties. We thought it only fitting that we hold one in her honour to celebrate her life on August 20^th (it was a lot more subdued than the one we had a month previous to celebrate my Grandma’s 80^th and my step-Grandpa’s 90^th birthdays).

She was one of the first people we told about the pregnancy. I had been calling her shortly after every ultrasound or follow-up appointment with my OB/GYN since my fibroid degenerated in January to give her the latest news. When we initially got our positive pregnancy test in late February, I didn’t tell her. Most of my family and her close friends knew that once you tell Gwenda something, the whole town of Erin knew. I was definitely selective with what I shared since I knew news traveled fast once my Mom got a hold of it. I figured she was always too excited to keep the news to herself. In 2009, Dave got to learn this firsthand how well my Mom could keep a secret when he called to ask if he could ask me to marry him. We went to Jasper for the weekend to finally see the Rocky Mountains before we moved home from Alberta and to celebrate me almost being done physio school. I had no clue that there was a marriage proposal coming, sometimes I am oblivious to the obvious, but Mom knew as well as most of my family and, I am sure, her close friends, neighbours, strangers on the street, etc. So, we didn’t tell her the fateful night when we got our positive test. We decided to wait until our ultrasound came back and confirmed that the pregnancy was viable.

Our viability ultrasound was March 17^th. When I called her with the update, I knew she could tell something was up as soon as I said “Well, there was something else that showed up”. There was a little concern in her voice as she said “Oh really?” I followed this by “you MUST keep this one a secret though”. I didn’t have to say anything else, she knew and she was ecstatic! As far as I know, she did keep this one a secret until we told everyone a couple of weeks later.

My Mom was so excited for her first grand-baby. She was pretty certain she was destined to just have grand dogs, especially after we added Stella, our adorable Boston Terrier rescue, to our family in June 2015. I had a deal with Dave that we were either having a baby or a dog. Dave went the path of least resistance and decided the dog was the better route to go in 2015.

She was so excited that we decided we would invite her to the anatomy scan at 19 weeks so that she could “meet” her new grand-baby and discover the gender with us. She was pretty certain that she was having a granddaughter despite me thinking I was carrying her grandson. When the ultrasound tech finally finished her measurements for baby A, she pulled Dave and Mom into the room with me for the big reveal. She celebrated with a big “YES!” when she heard it was a little girl. Off we went into the parking lot to go our separate ways home. I felt a little guilty making my mom drive all the way up to Collingwood for 5 minutes in the ultrasound room, especially since she usually has about 500 other things on the go and had to take time away from them. Dave reassured me that she wouldn’t have driven all the way up if she didn’t want to come. In hindsight, I am so glad she came. She won’t physically get to meet A, but she did get to see A and grandma’s memory will live on through all the crazy stories we will share of her adventures.

The last time I saw my Mom was the Sunday of Civic Holiday weekend. She had come up to help us move a crib and glider chair from our co-worker’s house to ours. It was a great day. I made breakfast for the three of us, she played with the dogs, she got to check out the crib and chair (she gave the Gwenda head nod of approval), she wandered around Home Hardware while we had a key made to our house for her (she was scheduled for babysitting the dogs when Dave and I were down at the hospital having A). She found these beautiful stars that she wanted to get to put on her shop. I made a mental note that this would make a great Christmas present and almost went in to Home Hardware the week before her death to buy them for her. I decided against it that day as she had said she wanted to measure the space on the outside of her shop first. Overall, we had a great day together and she got to see the nursery coming together and the grand dogs got to play with her one last time.

The last time I talked to my Mom on the phone was August 14^th, she passed the next day. We chatted twice that day. Our first conversation, she was telling me all about the family reunion she attended in Tobermory the day before. She had somehow become traffic control in the harbor after noticing a family was having a hard time getting out of their parking spot. Of course she directed traffic while eating an ice cream cone. She also wanted to make sure I was ok. Dave had gone to a friend’s wedding in Ottawa. We didn’t want to risk me being so far away from Toronto due to the high risk nature of this pregnancy, so Dave went stag.  Later that evening, I had gone to meet a friend in Barrie to pick up some baby clothes (some actually turned into 3 garbage bags full). She had left a message on our answering machine about a relative’s girlfriend being in the Olympics which I listened to when I got home. I called her back to let her know where I had been and tell her about the massive bags of baby clothes. It sounded like I had gotten her up from bed, so it was a quick phone call but I am so thankful I called her back that night and we had one last chat. Little did I know it would be our last conversation.

It’s been hard imaging living the rest of my life without her. She’s always been there when I needed her to either offer advice, a shoulder to cry on or to cheer me on. I knew a time would come that my parents would no longer be around, but I didn’t envision it being in my 30’s or when such a huge life change was happening. While being in the hospital I have been somewhat sheltered from the realities that await me on the outside without her. As the executor (I hate the term executrix) of her estate I have to make a lot of decisions once I get out, I am basically closing one life while bringing another into the world. It’s a very strange feeling; one I am not entirely comfortable with. 

I know if she were still here on Earth she would be in my hospital room all the time. At the hospital, they give the birth support person a yellow band with the mom-to-be’s hospital number on it. I am certain she would be wearing that yellow band instead of Dave (sorry Dave, I am sure she would give it up when the big birthday came). Dave and I actually joke that she probably would have made a new cushion for the chair, a new comforter for the bed and designed her own cot to sleep on by my bedside. The crazy thing is she probably would have and we would laugh hysterically about it. The nurses would have loved her. I still miss her like crazy every day and suspect I always will, but the love she had for the granddaughter she doesn’t get to meet gives me strength and hope that this baby will get us through anything that might be ahead of us.

The Week of Lasts

The Final Countdown

Dave was here to visit yesterday! His weekly visits always include: the laundry swap (mmm...clean clothes that don't smell like hospital), outside food (we used UberEats yesterday to order turkey clubs right to my room), a walk outside (I stepped off of the hospital property for the first time in 29 days yesterday - we didn't go far, he wanted to show me that Swiss Chalet was basically 15 steps off of hospital property. So close, yet oh so far) and quality time spent wandering downstairs. Yesterday's wander was pretty successful. We bought a cute onesie in Indigo that I hadn't noticed until yesterday.

Baby A's souvenir of the time she made her Mom sit in the hospital for weeks on end.

Dave reminded me yesterday that this was his last week of work before A makes her arrival. It made me realize that my time in here is about to be over. Today marks the 30th day of hospital living. After being in here 30 days you get to know the rhythm of the day. I know it so well know it's hard to believe it ever felt foreign to me. Here are some lasts I am looking forward to celebrating this week:

1. Today is the last day I will be choosing my food for Monday. Next Monday being surgery day means no food after a certain time next Sunday (note to self: must ask nurse how long I can push the eating thing since they will have me on the liquid diet once I am cleared for liquids). Here is my last Monday order:

2. The last week of the medical practitioner parade. Let me tell you, I will not miss the constant interruptions asking me about my bleeding and bowel movements, especially when I just want to nap.
3. The last non-stress test in my room (I don't know why they call them non-stressful - A hates them, she gets all kicky and I get short of breath. It's almost like she is saying "Let me OUT!")
4. My last chat with my favourite cleaning lady. She's only in during the week, so I will have my last pregnant chat with her on Friday.
5. My last new magazine day is on Friday. I love Friday's. I wait until afternoon to go down so I can be sure the new magazines are out at the Indigo store and look at every cover. I usually end up just buying US Weekly, but do enjoy the front covers letting me know who is getting divorced (usually lies), who is pregnant (mostly lies), who has been cheating on so-and-so with whom (the jury is out on some of these). So much entertainment in my Friday's.
6. The last week of watching as much Netflix and TV as I can expose my brain too. Apparently there won't be time once I return to the outside world.
7. My last shower with my Michael Jackson glove (when I shower I have to tape a medical glove around my hand to protect my IV and feel like the hospital version of Michael Jackson. Yes, I have threatened my nurse that I will moonwalk past the nurses station with my cool gloved hand. I haven't done it yet, so I guess I should do it this week).
8. The last time I will eat cookies in bed. Who am I kidding? I do that when I am at home too. Cookies are the best, but even better when you eat them in bed.
9. My last cinnamon scone Sunday. I thought about that as I slowly savored my cinnamon scone this morning. Note to Dave: must buy cinnamon scones for my return home. Sunday is now cinnamon scone day.
10. My last night wandering down the long hall in the unit. This hall and I have gotten to know each other well. I usually do about 5-8 laps, 3-5 times per day depending on how bored I am and if there is anything interesting going on (gossip at the nurses station, new patient moving in).

11. My last wacky Wednesday, which will likely be uneventful and turn into me avoiding (a.k.a. napping, wandering downstairs or watching a movie) Art with Hal. One afternoon with Hal was enough. I think I will leave my painting here too. It's posted beautifully across from the nurses station...upside down. I guess my art left room for interpretation. 

My lovely nurse this morning did tell me that I will be back on this unit for post-patrum care, so that makes me very excited, for real. I will get to do a couple of first things on this unit I've called home since August 26th, like first time getting out of bed after abdominal surgery, first night with baby A, first diaper change with baby A. Plus, I get to see and thank all the nurses that have taken such amazing care of me over the past 30 days and beyond. 

I am looking forward to this week of last's, especially when I think baby A is staying until her actual C-section date note. 

Finally 35 weeks! 28 days down, 10 to go!

I spent the afternoon watching Tangled. I live firmly in the Tangled is better than Frozen camp. Sorry Princess Elsa fans, I enjoy Rapunzel, her magic hair and her floating lanterns. Despite how excited I am about becoming a mother, there is a lot of nervousness. I really didn't think pregnancy would be possible for us. In January, my fibroid (Tom) degenerated (basically got way to big for it's blood supply) and I was hospitalized for 5 days with severe pain. Based on it's location and a few other things, my OB was concerned that we would have issues conceiving. When I followed-up with my OB in early February, we were discussing the possibility of looking into IVF if we weren't pregnant by November. You can imagine how surprised my OB was when I called in late February to let her know we had gotten a positive pregnancy test. We've been high risk since the beginning which always causes an increase in stress in pregnancy, I held my breath the first few ultrasounds hoping that this little one was viable and had a heart beat. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine though that being high risk would land me resident status in Mount Sinai. As you can imagine, I have had a lot of time to sit around and think in here. One big question is what if being a parent is not everything I dreamed of and imagined, but then again, what if it is? What if it's better? I am so excited to meet her and get to know her. The next 9 days are going to be torture, like Christmas Eve x 100.

The past few days have been uneventful to say the least. I've wandered the halls more than I usually do because you can only sit so long watching Netflix and reading. I will regret that statement in a few months when I will yearn to have time to sit and do nothing, but these days are getting harder to make it through. There are a lot more permanent but temporary residents here now, a lot due in December. It makes me thankful I only have a few more days and we could potentially be home for Thanksgiving!

Wasting the Day Away in Baby Jail

Day 25 of baby jail was the first time I did not want to eat the food here. Every meal that came by looked extra disgusting today and by dinner the thoughts of eating the sad looking Hungry-man-like turkey dinner did not appeal to me. I broke out of the unit (legally! I signed out and everything) and went to the pizza place in the cafeteria for a slice of Kosher cheese pizza. A couple of weekends ago the owner of the pizza place chatted with me at length about the cheese he uses. It came all the way from Israel by way of Chicago and Montreal before making it to his kitchen. I must say it's pretty decent pizza, especially when compared to the dinner option that I ditched on the tray before leaving the unit.  I also grabbed a Kit-Kat on my way back up to the unit. My nurse and the nursing student that was with her today were at the desk when I came in discreetly hiding my chocolate bar and busted me for sneaking chocolate in. The nurses always seem to catch you when you have candy or chocolate. For the record, I am allowed candy and chocolate. I passed that horrible 2 hour glucose tolerance test after failing the 1 hour test by 1 point.

Here is a visual sampling of the food that we are served for lunch and dinner. Usually I don't mind it, but today, I'm done with this food.

I have downloaded UberEats in the hopes of being able to survive the next 12 days. Otherwise, I will be living on buns, gingerale, crackers and the cookies I sneak down to Second Cup to get. 

The Baby Jail Sentence

The day that you are officially told you are stuck here until the end is quite possibly the worst day ever of your pregnancy. Before the official word is given, there is always hope that you might still go home and live out the rest of your pregnancy at home on bed-rest eating bonbons and watching a lot of crappy daytime TV. I remember the moment the OB came in and told me that I was in until the end. I put on my brave face while chatting with her and the charge nurse, waited until they left and then burst into tears. The tears lasted off and on a couple of days. It might be different for everyone, but by day 3 I had come to accept that I was stuck here until at least 32 weeks where there was hope that I would be able to go to the hospital closer to home. That hope was dashed on September 8th when my platelets dropped and my OB didn't feel safe sending me to a hospital that didn't know what they were in for. There were some tears that day too, but by then I knew that we were both safer here. Plus, I know the lay of the land on this antenatal unit and the schedule of the day. It would be a lot of effort to learn the rules and schedule of a new unit in a different hospital.

Today was sentencing day for my roommate. Every pregnant woman on this unit has a different reason for being here. Some of them are here for observation for 24-48 hours and sent back into the world to live their last pregnancy weeks away in the sunshine, most of us are in here until the end. My roommate was hoping that she would be one that would be released into the sunshine. Despite the news not being for me, it was heartbreaking to hear that she wouldn't be going home and would be here until the end. All the feelings from my sentencing day came back. She will likely be here until sometime in mid-November if her little girl doesn't come before then and has two little boys are home. She's taking it really hard. I tried my best to re-assure her that it would be OK and in a year it will all be such a distance memory, but I know from my experience no words help during those first few days of processing that you will live here until a baby is in your arms.

In addition to my roommate getting her sentencing, my old roommate ended up back in baby jail until the end on Sunday night. It was nice to see a face I knew, despite the horrible situations that brought us both here. It looks like our girls will be coming within 2 weeks of each other, which is exciting!


Ultrasound Tuesday

There was some good in the day! It's Tuesday! I look forward to Tuesday every week. Tuesday is my ultrasound day. Everyone on the unit has a day that they are pulled into the tiny room near the Nurse's station for 20-30 minutes to have their weekly ultrasound. It's a nice break from having medical practitioners in your "space" and you get to watch the entire ultrasound on a big screen TV while the technician completes the scan. They even let you take pictures of anything you want while you are in there. Today, a fellow (Definition: a fellowship is a period of medical training that a physician or dentist may undertake after completing their residency. During this time, the physician is known as a fellow) was in the room to watch my scan (I assume she was watching all the scans this morning) and asked if I wouldn't mind staying a couple more minutes (turned into 15 minutes) so she could practice some of her skills. I have learned here that if I can waste 15 minutes AND help someone hone their skills AND see Baby A for a couple more minutes I am not saying no.

Baby A weighed in at a hefty 6 lbs 1oz. The debate online is that the weight measurements from ultrasounds at this gestational age can be wildly inaccurate, by up to 1.5lbs. My ultrasound nurse measured 3 times to ensure it was correct since the previous ultrasound with weight measurements (September 2nd) had her weighing in at 4lbs 8oz. That means little A has gained over 1 1/2 lbs. She also has a beautiful little profile and adorable chin and lips straight on. Below on the left is Baby A's profile plus 3 of her fingers (she does have all 5, but she was holding her hand in a fist). To the right is Tom the massive fibroid. He's that mass of grey material to the right of the screen.

So now I sit on Tuesday evening waiting to see if Wacky Wednesday has anything in store for us. Perhaps a trip to the other side is in my future or it will be another day hanging out in baby jail.

Bonus Picture

Me, with sweet hospital hair, from Saturday hanging out with my IV pole. Saline to celebrate 34 weeks!!

A Case of the Mondays

Life in the hospital is still going as well as life in the hospital can. Working on Day 24 here and so far no day has been the same. Today I really just wanted to go back to sleep, but the Monday medical practitioner parade starts at 9 (or for me this morning a little earlier) and goes until dinner time.

The Date Debate

Over the weekend, the debate about whether my c-section date was October 3rd and 4th continued. The Charge Nurse (who Saturday night recommended that I curb my boredom by riding my IV pole down the hall. She was only kidding...I think) called over to L&D yesterday and was able to stop the debate once and for all. Her scheduled birthday is October 3rd. She gets to share a birthday with my Dad, Mean Girls Day and the 7 week anniversary of Mom's passing. 13 days (or less) until we get to meet this little one and Dave and I are super excited. The "or less" is because I really don't think she's going to stay in there until October 3rd.

The Nursery

Speaking of Dave, he worked on the baby's room last night, which is good because from what he had told me there was so much in there he could hardly open the door. We are so fortunate to have so much love and support for this little one. Dave was happy that he had a day off, between driving down here to see me, working, taking care of the dogs and keeping the household chores up, he's pretty exhausted.

Here are the results of all his hard work last night. I can't wait to see it in person.

The Monday

This morning started off with a small PRI. I got to go on the monitors at 6:15am to check to make sure baby A was OK. She's more than OK, just rocking out oblivious to the fact that her attachment to my uterus was not happy. I was very annoyed this morning to see the results of the PRI. Today would have been 12 days since my last one. I knew the streak would be over soon, but I was hoping it would hold out a day of two.

I had a quick reprieve from the monitor once everyone seemed content with her activity and drifted back off to sleep. I was back on the monitors by 9:30am for the routine NST. Again, baby A is totally oblivious to the fact that her placenta is not happy. What's become routine is the CBC (complete blood count) done after every PRI, whether it's small or big. My nurse for today just came in to let me know my platelets are low...again. Just awaiting the OB to come in and let me know what the plan is. I was warned last time that if they drop again they are starting interventions. Just waiting to hear whether I get option A - just a little pill to take or option B - a fun transfusion of platelets. Will keep you posted. 

The thing I find the hardest about PRI day is that I don't get to go downstairs until the activity stops. That means no coffee or smelling outside for me today. I am hoping I can convince my nurse that it would be good for my mental health to go downstairs for 5 minutes.

I am now off to online browse for baby Halloween costumes. Her due date was originally October 28th, which meant I would not be recovered enough from having my abdomen cut open to show her off in a fun costume. With her date now being moved to October 3rd and the potential for a short NICU/hospital stay, she might be out and able to rock her first Halloween costume. 

Tips for Surviving Bed Rest

When I was first admitted I did a lot of Googling despite the medical professionals saying not to Google. I will be honest every week when the app tells me I have hit the next week of pregnancy, I obsessively check survival rates of babies born a "x" weeks, supplementary care they will need and approximately how long they will live in the NICU. At 34 weeks, Google in all it's profound wisdom tells me at 34 weeks Baby A will potentially need supplementary oxygen (we had steroids on August 17th and 18th to help with lung development) and an NG tube for feeding. The ballpark on when we could take her home would be 3 days to 3+ weeks. Survival rate is 99%.

In addition to my weekly trip to Google about survival rates, I also Google tips on how to pass time on bed rest. Some of these tips are helpful, most are not. The biggest tip that all have in common is make a schedule. In my first post, I shared my schedule, but I will admit today I followed no schedule. It was a lazy Saturday and Dave came to visit, so no schedule was required.

Here are some tips from Parents.com (http://www.parents.com/pregnancy/my-life/bed-rest/activity-checklist/) on how to survive best rest and my thoughts on these suggestions.

1. Catch up on your reading
Very good tip, especially if you enjoy to read and have had a list of books in your head for a while and no time to read. So far I have read 2 books - "The Girl on the Train" and "Me Before You". I am half-way through "The Light Between Oceans". So many friends have dropped books off that I will definitely have enough to keep me occupied for the next 16 days.

2. Play board or card games
Tricky to do in the hospital, unless you have found a little squad of other pregnant women. It's hard here to maintain that squad. There are some women that are in and out within 48 hours and the rest of us are usually confined to our beds/rooms or in and out of appointments/medical visits or trying to escape our rooms when visitors come. It makes it hard to get to know the other long-term residents here. After a while you do get to know who has been here roughly the same time as you and, if you are strange like me, you have given them nicknames. Dave gets to be subjected to my nicknames for the other long-term women and me being concerned when they disappear for a little while (like the woman that disappeared all weekend who is pregnant with twins. I found out from her husband she was out on a weekend pass when I finally saw them on Monday). I wonder if they have given me a nickname?

3. Watch Movies
Yes! I have watched a few movies, but with a plethora of interruptions from the medical professionals (who I adore because they are doing such a wonderful job here on this unit and don't mind having stop in for a chat about my status) and randomly falling asleep it's hard to watch a full movie at any one time. I much prefer to stream a television show, usually as trashy reality TV show (Bachelor in Paradise, Big Brother, Amazing Race Canada, etc.) or Gilmore Girls on Netflix.

4. Get a Manicure.
I am not one for manicures, but I desperately need a pedicure, but my 34 week pregnant belly is proving to cause difficulties in me reaching my toes.

5. Channel Your Inner Poet
Not quite my cup of tea. I will pass on being a poet.

6. Journal or Blog
For the first two and a bit weeks, my brain was buzzing. They give all women admitted to the antenatal unit a notebook to write in. My notebook has turned into a massive list of things to do when I get out for my Mom's estate and things I need to do to sort of my own life when I return to it, so not really ideal to write all my thoughts it. The idea to start a blog came to me after my brain became too full and I needed to organize my thoughts. Now all of you get to read the inner thoughts of my hospital bed rest brain.

7. Create
I guess Art with Hal would count? I have never been the creative type. For a while when my wrist/hands were free from IV's (my forearm becomes the site for my IV when my hands become free) I was able to work on my Girl Guide camp blanket, but had to give that up the past 10 days as my left or right hand has been home to my IV port. I also tried those adult colouring books. Those are not as relaxing or stress-relieving as they advertise. Why are the little areas you have to colour in so small? What if I pick colours that don't compliment each other? Why do these exist? Who finds these relaxing? If my windows could opened, they would be out on Murray Street right now. My friend Pam heard my rants about them that the next time she came to visit brought me children's colouring books! Colouring in Disney Princess' and Minions has been much less stressful.

8. Scrapbook
I was joking about this with my roommate yesterday. I can't imagine dragging scrap booking supplies in here. We hardly have enough space for our clothes and personal belongings. Plus you want to limit items that you have here in case you go to the other side (L&D) and your poor husband has to pack all your stuff up, even worse if the nurses have to (they work hard enough and don't have to deal with my endless "keep busy supplies"). It might turn into a packing nightmare. Plus, all this stuff eventually has to make it's way home in a car with a newborn. I would like to limit the amount of trips we are taking to the car when I finally get to walk out the door as free woman!

9. Shop Online
I do online window shopping almost daily. I got sucked into a 2 hour Etsy block hole about 7 days ago. Poor Dave got 15 different screen shots of onesies I wanted to order. I finally was able to narrow it down to one.

Without time on the outside to shop to prepare for baby, a lot of the extra items we will need (and some we don't, but I think are too cute to pass up) when we finally get to go home I have been buying and having sent to Dave. If anyone has some spare time and is really awesome at organizing, please let me know. I left our nursery in a very big mess and since our baby shower it's gotten a little bit more chaotic.

10. Pick Baby Names
Done and done. We picked out a girl and boy name before our anatomy scan at 19 weeks. As most of you know, this name is a secret until she arrives. Muhahaha! I am dreadful at keeping secrets and this one has been hard, especially when you get a nurse you haven't met (I think I have met almost all of them now) and she asks what your baby's name is. I have to admit, 2-3 nurses do know her name, but they also are sworn to secrecy to not share, especially when visitors are here.

11. Plan
The article says to plan baby's nursery decor. We were fortunate enough to have decorated her room in July, so this is all done. The organizing of her room is all that's left.

Baby A's nursery, minus the computer/desk, plus 700 other things. 

A little bit of Star Wars

12. Design
The article recommends designing your baby announcements. I might leave this one to Dave since he is much better at designing than I am. I think I need a lesson from him on how to change the layout for this blog.

13. Learn
I was determined to take up knitting when I arrived here. I have needles and wool and YouTube tutorials. It takes a long time to make something though and although I have lots of time, I lack a little something called patience. My scarf for a mouse looks really awesome though.

Most days I do a combination of reading, enjoying the black hole of the internet, watching movies/TV shows, eating/thinking about what I want to eat, wandering the hallways and chatting with my roommate. I am trying to enjoy the last two weeks of boredom and finish up little things I haven't had a chance to do, especially the thank you cards from everyone that has been so generous to Baby A.

Pregnancy: Expiration Date October 4th.

Today, like everyday, I woke up to the night nurse coming in around 6:30am to give me my medications and check my vitals. I should have known today would be a different kind of day when my blood pressure was the lowest it's been this entire pregnancy (103/65) and I had enough energy to not go back to sleep. I think my dear lovely night nurse (Melva, with 30+ years nursing experience in all things pregnancy) was happy that I didn't have a PRI. The last time she was my nurse, I had two PRI's and was sent over to L&D. Apparently a trip across the hall to the other wing means lots of paperwork for my lovely assigned nurse and I would hate to subject her to that again.

My day nurse, Anna, seems to think I am a morning person. This is her first day with me, so she doesn't know that I am usually asleep until the food services crew brings breakfast around 8:30 and randomly fall asleep throughout the day. I probably surprised the food services crew as well because instead of being in my pajamas rocking sweet bedhead I was up, showered, dressed and ready for the day. 

The usual parade of medical practitioners started with my nurse setting me up to the Fetal Non-Stress Test which usually takes about 20 minutes, sometimes longer if this baby has decided it's time for gymnastics again, All of a sudden the OB fellow pops in to chat. I was a bit surprised as usually I don't see her until closer to lunch since I am on of the more stable patient's on the unit. We talk about all my usual stuff (is the baby moving? any cramps, contractions, etc.?) and then she casually says, "we've booked you for an ultrasound on October 3rd, but double check the date with your nurse" and runs off. I am so excited! This is the first time a date has been mentioned, there is light at the end of the tunnel. I love the chosen birthday because she gets to share it with my Dad AND it's Mean Girls Day. 

For those that don't know what Mean Girls Day is, please see below and then go watch Mean Girls: 

My nurse came in to take me off of the monitor and pulled up my chart. The OB fellow was wrong. They have actually scheduled me for October 4th. I missed my Dad's birthday and Mean Girl's Day by one day. That's OK though, we have a date. I cannot tell you how much relief there is having a date. After sitting in here for 20 days not knowing when she would come, have the knowledge that she will come in 20 days, at the maximum, is amazing. Knowing that in 20 days or less I will be in the OR getting to meet this crazy active little girl, as well as getting a pretty cool scar makes me so happy. Honestly, I feel like a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. There is no more wondering about when I get to leave. If all goes well, Baby A and I will be home by Thanksgiving and enjoying sharing pumpkin pie with Dave and Baby A's fur sisters Sophie and Stella (I know baby's can't eat pie, but in a round-about way she kind of gets to enjoy it). That being said, she could really come at anytime. The OB fellow gave me the impression that if all stays quiet October 4th is the absolute latest she would come. I am still taking bets since I think Baby A is going to be a September baby. 

What is Placenta Previa?

Since being admitted I have been asked by several family members and friends what placenta previa is, so I thought I would provide a little education about what it is and what it means for the rest of my pregnancy.

Placenta previa occurs when the placenta partially or totally covers the opening of the cervix. In layman’s terms, my placenta has blocked Baby A’s exit route. To complicate matters, and likely one of the reasons my placenta attached where it attached, is a massive uterine fibroid which a co-worker loving named Tom. Tom has blocked a complete view of how extensive my placenta has blocked my cervix, but the diagnosis we are working with is a complete placenta previa (CPP). 

So cool, Baby A can’t get out the natural exit route, just have a C-section, no biggie right? Right, except the placenta is well vascularized in order to provide oxygen and nutrients to Baby A as well as remove waste products from her blood. The amount of blood flowing through the placenta means that as I get closer to delivery and my cervix starts to thin out and dilate I start to randomly bleed. I have no warnings, triggers or pain with this bleeding which is fairly typical of this condition. A lot of people have told me to take it easy and stay off my feet. This is partially good advice as limiting any physical exertion or downward pressure in my abdomen will help but since my bleeding usually occurs when I am sleeping my physical exertion has very little to do with it.

The OB’s are a little puzzled as to why my placenta attached here as it is usually associated with:

-         - scars in the lining of the uterus (usually from previous surgeries)

-         -  a large placenta (typical with a multiple pregnancy)

-         -  being 35+

-    - having previous pregnancies
      
     I don’t check off any of these boxes so I assume this useful but evil little placenta decided this was the only place to attach due to my massive uterine fibroid.

In addition to this random painless bleeding, I also have a higher risk for bleeding during delivery and the first few hours after delivery. There is also the risk of pre-term birth. This risk of bleeding plus pre-term birth is why I have been confined to the antenatal unit. My OB team is concerned that if I am too far away from a large hospital there is a great potential for a massive life-threatening hemorrhage and losing our little girl. There rule is 3 bleeds and you’re in until delivery. Since I am at 6 or 7, there is no chance in going home until Baby A is born. I am very thankful to be in such a wonderful facility with some of the best OB’s in Canada and know myself and Baby A are in the best hands possible. 

I still hope to at least see the placenta post-surgically so I can lay eyes on the cause of this painless, annoying bleeding, and maybe show it what I think of it. 

Is the Wednesday curse broken?

Today was uneventful. For the first time in a couple of weeks nothing happened on a Wednesday. I woke up like I do every morning to a nurse waking me up to give me medication at 6:30am-ish after finally getting to sleep following Baby A's nightly gymnastic routines (now playing at: 11:30pm, 1am, 3am and 5:30am). If her activity during the night is any indication of her life on the outside, I foresee many sleepless nights in our future and the potential need for a leash when she becomes mobile.

Baby A not arriving today makes me a little sad.  First, Gwenda, my mom, was wrong! How did that happen? She's always right. I guess "Celebration Weeks" (the week that starts September 7th on Dave's birthday and ends with mine on September 16th with a little wedding anniversary thrown in for fun on September 10th) isn't quite over yet, but I really thought today was the day. Second, I am getting tired of calling her Baby A. I can't wait to finally call her by her real name.

I am currently taking bets for her birthday. Her estimated due date has always been October 28th, but if you guess anytime close to that I will be very disappointed because I don't know if I can live here for that long.

In addition to the news that Baby A would not be arriving today, I received the great news that my platelet count had rebounded. Last week, I was diagnosed with thrombocytopenia - a big fancy word for low platelet count. It wasn't astronomically low, but low enough that they were concerned that I would be unable to have an epidural due to the potential for bleeding into my spine (no, thank you!). I was thrilled with this news because a) I can still have an epidural and be present for her birth (versus general anesthesia where I would be asleep) and b) decreased frequency of blood work. The vampires were checking my blood every two days, but now they can go back to the routine of every four days.

Art with Hal
Being on the unit for the first time on a Wednesday meant I finally got to go with the heavily advertised (there is a sign on the wall when you walk in the unit and a couple of little posters here and there, heavily advertised alongside washing your hands for this unit) "Art with Hal". Who is Hal? He is a lovely gentleman who has been an architect of 50 years who has a love of all things art, including random foreign films with strange soundtracks, which he shared with me (the soundtrack, not the film). He volunteers for two hours a week on the antenatal unit. He used to volunteer on another unit, but was basically filing papers and wasn't able to share his love of art. He has also been married 3 times and has a nephew that works for "America's Got Talent" acquiring and screening the talent that goes in front of the judges. As the only attendee today I had Hal's full undivided attention, which I think he realized I required with my serious lack of art skills. He starts of by having you pick a picture you like from a pile of about 200. I am very indecisive these days, so this took quite some time.  There are lots of abstract and unusual pictures, but I finally settled on one of birch trees because it looked colourful and easier than some of the other pictures. I then got to trace this picture onto fancy art paper. After that he pulled out all the water colour pencils and water colour paints of various colours. I would like to take credit for my picture, but I will admit, Hal did about 50% of it. He did invite me back next week, if I was still on the unit, to do some more painting and try some different technique. I guess I wasn't that bad of a student. I failed to tell him about the rule of Wednesday's, so he might be disappointed that he doesn't get to help paint my picture next week.

Here is my art. He wouldn't let me take a picture of the original picture for comparison as "art does not need comparison". It's now going on the art wall in the unit


Mouse-Pig
Speaking of art, there are a lot of interesting pieces of art on this floor. My favourite is the picture I have dubbed "Mouse-Pig". There are two "Mouse-Pig" pictures hanging in the antenatal unit - one outside of the room I was originally admitted to on August 17th and the other in the little nook I affectionately call my hiding nook. I go to my hiding nook to sit when I get sick of looking at the walls in my room so I have had a lot of time to study this piece. "Mouse-Pig" is a sassy little hybrid between a mouse and pig who seems to love oranges. I enjoy this piece a lot. I might even miss it when I leave. Maybe I should ask Hal if I can draw "Mouse-Pig" next week?

No more cookies in bed :(

After I got back from 2 hours of "Art with Hal" and dropped my masterpiece off to the Unit Clerk so she could find a place for it along the art wall, I found my bed made with freshly cleaned linens and a note in response to my note. It's an ongoing joke with a few of my nurses that I will escape. I would never actually escape because I fear what might happen if I head out onto the mean streets of Toronto and have a PRI. There are no call bells on the streets, so help would not come quickly. The furthest I wander most days is down the main level to wander around Indigo and stop at Second Cup to treat myself to a small coffee and a massive chocolate chip cookie. This excursion usually occurs after lunch, once the parade of medical practitioners is complete or near complete. Yesterday, my nurse came in as I was finding cookie crumbs in my bed and shirt. I guess she found a few more in the bed when she changed my sheets and decided to let me know. I thought it was quite funny. I love the humour of the nurses of this unit. They are always up for a chat or a joke, but I guess I should stop eating cookies in bed.


Birthday Guesses and Pictures of the Evil Placenta

There has been a lot of mystery surrounding Baby A's due date. As of today, I have yet to schedule a C-Section date. The wait and see approach seems to be the route we are taking right now.  Feel free to leave your best guess as to when the next PRI might take me into the OR to have this little stinker.

Also, how likely would my OR team be to let me take a picture giving the finger to my placenta? I feel I deserve to after all she's put me through.

I am off for now to enjoy the rest of this normal Wednesday. Let's see what tomorrow brings, likely more eating cookies in bed and staring at "Mouse-Pig" but you never know.