After Ana's fever spiked 103 today, we were off to the doctor who confirmed that she had strep throat.
I was a bit surprised, given that Ana's last experience with strep was more dramatic, and painful.
But at least this is treatable. We've got the antibiotics which taste "terrible" appararently and make her want to spit them out. She'll be back at school by Wednesday.
Elliot was back to normal by last night, and I had the doc swab my throat as a precaution.
Strep=no threat to pregos.
Yeah!
Monday, February 25, 2008
Sunday, February 24, 2008
What ails you
I'd just come to terms with the chicken pox thing, and was trying to settle my mounting neurotic feelings regarding illness, children, and shaking hands, when what should trike?
-some mystery welt in the back of my throat
-Elliot has some kind of cough/diarhea combo
-Ana has a sore throat and fever
Who knows what any of these are, but it's all helping me let go of any attempts to control what's out there. Everybody save Kevin seems to have sumpthin'.
What else can I do besides wash my hands religiously anyhow?
-some mystery welt in the back of my throat
-Elliot has some kind of cough/diarhea combo
-Ana has a sore throat and fever
Who knows what any of these are, but it's all helping me let go of any attempts to control what's out there. Everybody save Kevin seems to have sumpthin'.
What else can I do besides wash my hands religiously anyhow?
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Lap of Luxury
One of our favorite treats is chupaletas (popsicles) made by Amanda at the Crescent City Farmers Market. My personal favorite is the avocado one. Smooth and creamy, and bright green to boot. Kevin and Amanda have developed a relationship around these pops, and that's usually the subject of conversation when he runs into Amanda at her other job working behind the cheese counter at Whole Foods.
Wouldn't you know it that Amanda lives two blocks away?
Our hankering for these chupaletas sometimes borders on desperate, and so Amanda has given Kevin her phone number.
And so, last night when we were "roughing it" having pitched a "tent" and pretended to camp after some burgers, Kevin lines up some chupaletas. No avocado, but yes, to banana. Not only does Amanda not mind us interrupting her birthday evening (oops) but she delivers them to our front door.
This is my kind of roughing it.
Yum.
Wouldn't you know it that Amanda lives two blocks away?
Our hankering for these chupaletas sometimes borders on desperate, and so Amanda has given Kevin her phone number.
And so, last night when we were "roughing it" having pitched a "tent" and pretended to camp after some burgers, Kevin lines up some chupaletas. No avocado, but yes, to banana. Not only does Amanda not mind us interrupting her birthday evening (oops) but she delivers them to our front door.
This is my kind of roughing it.
Yum.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Visit to perinatologist
Today was our first visit to the perinatologist. Our ob/gyn recommended that we consult with one after discussing our fears regarding pregnancy and potential illness.
The timing couldn't have been better, as yesterday, I was dealing with a case of chicken pox at the center, and despite having had the illness at age 2, was on self-imposed quarentine at home. All my fears of not keeping the baby safe compounded into a massive head and body ache by the end of the day.
I opted to walk to pick up Ana and El, which was definitely the right move. The weather yesterday was extraordinarily beautiful. And spending some time with Ana and Elliot at the stables, where they were both "kissed" by enormous stallions, providing me some healing laughter. As we ambled home, we found our good friend, Sweetpea The Goat with owner Amy out there on the batture. It was one of those kinds of afternoons, and I was grateful for it.
But last night the anxiety found me, and I began to worry about returning to work, with the prevalence of childhood illness that exists wherever small fries can be found. I felt scared of this appointment this morning. Of what we might learn.
That anxiety followed us into Tuoro this morning. But it didn't last long. Although I was armed with a fistful of tissues, I didn't need to use them. Dr. M was well-informed, warm, and easy to talk to. We were able to discuss Elliot's pregnancy with him, as well as our subsequent fears, and potential threats to another healthy pregnancy.
He assured us that:
-the likelihood of the CMV being reactivated in my system is incredibly slim; equally slim are the chances that I would pass this to the baby.
-there is nothing in my history to indicate that there is a greater likelihood that I am at risk to pass CMV or anything else to the baby.
-there is nothing that makes this pregnancy high-risk. I'll be back to see him in May for our 2 month ultrasound...
Because of my work with young children, and my fear of another common illness that my ob sees as a threat (Parvo), Dr. M suggested that I get an antibody panel through my ob. This would show me which illnesses present a greater threat (no presence of their antibodies in my system). I think that we may follow this recommendation, for my own mental health, and so that I can stop snalyzing why Elliot's cheeks are so red (a common symptom of Parvo, aka "slap cheek").
Besides religious hand-washing and disinfecting, I hope not to become OCD during this long pregnancy. Dr. M's parting words, "Just take a step back, and try to enjoy being pregnant." They rang in my ears as we drove home and the tears came. Two days of stress coming out, as I told Kevin that all I want is to keep this baby safe. More than anything in the world. And I'm scared.
The timing couldn't have been better, as yesterday, I was dealing with a case of chicken pox at the center, and despite having had the illness at age 2, was on self-imposed quarentine at home. All my fears of not keeping the baby safe compounded into a massive head and body ache by the end of the day.
I opted to walk to pick up Ana and El, which was definitely the right move. The weather yesterday was extraordinarily beautiful. And spending some time with Ana and Elliot at the stables, where they were both "kissed" by enormous stallions, providing me some healing laughter. As we ambled home, we found our good friend, Sweetpea The Goat with owner Amy out there on the batture. It was one of those kinds of afternoons, and I was grateful for it.
But last night the anxiety found me, and I began to worry about returning to work, with the prevalence of childhood illness that exists wherever small fries can be found. I felt scared of this appointment this morning. Of what we might learn.
That anxiety followed us into Tuoro this morning. But it didn't last long. Although I was armed with a fistful of tissues, I didn't need to use them. Dr. M was well-informed, warm, and easy to talk to. We were able to discuss Elliot's pregnancy with him, as well as our subsequent fears, and potential threats to another healthy pregnancy.
He assured us that:
-the likelihood of the CMV being reactivated in my system is incredibly slim; equally slim are the chances that I would pass this to the baby.
-there is nothing in my history to indicate that there is a greater likelihood that I am at risk to pass CMV or anything else to the baby.
-there is nothing that makes this pregnancy high-risk. I'll be back to see him in May for our 2 month ultrasound...
Because of my work with young children, and my fear of another common illness that my ob sees as a threat (Parvo), Dr. M suggested that I get an antibody panel through my ob. This would show me which illnesses present a greater threat (no presence of their antibodies in my system). I think that we may follow this recommendation, for my own mental health, and so that I can stop snalyzing why Elliot's cheeks are so red (a common symptom of Parvo, aka "slap cheek").
Besides religious hand-washing and disinfecting, I hope not to become OCD during this long pregnancy. Dr. M's parting words, "Just take a step back, and try to enjoy being pregnant." They rang in my ears as we drove home and the tears came. Two days of stress coming out, as I told Kevin that all I want is to keep this baby safe. More than anything in the world. And I'm scared.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Another little one to join the clan
Well, I'm still reeling from our discovery a month ago that Kevin and I will be parents to another child.
Here's how it played out: shortly after realizing that I'd missed my period, I bought a test at the drugstore, and "administered it" while at work.
To be honest, I was relieved to see the single stripe that told me that my period must simply be late. I was not pregnant. Or so I thought.
I threw the stick into my purse.
Later that day, at a meeting with Elliot's therapy team, I found myself fishing for change in my purse at the coffee shop. Needless to say, I found a lot more than I was looking for. In the light-flooded cafe, the fainter second line was revealed. I met Kevin's eyes from across the shop, and he looked immediately panicked. I think he may have believed it was related to all the upcoming changes in Elliot's services. He shot me a puzzled, are you OK? look, to which I dismissed his concern. Frankly, I was grateful for the existence of that heavy wooden counter. It was holding me up from a fainting spell.
Unlike my first two pregnancies, I've been nervous with this one. There are some obvious reasons:
Here's how it played out: shortly after realizing that I'd missed my period, I bought a test at the drugstore, and "administered it" while at work.
To be honest, I was relieved to see the single stripe that told me that my period must simply be late. I was not pregnant. Or so I thought.
I threw the stick into my purse.
Later that day, at a meeting with Elliot's therapy team, I found myself fishing for change in my purse at the coffee shop. Needless to say, I found a lot more than I was looking for. In the light-flooded cafe, the fainter second line was revealed. I met Kevin's eyes from across the shop, and he looked immediately panicked. I think he may have believed it was related to all the upcoming changes in Elliot's services. He shot me a puzzled, are you OK? look, to which I dismissed his concern. Frankly, I was grateful for the existence of that heavy wooden counter. It was holding me up from a fainting spell.
Unlike my first two pregnancies, I've been nervous with this one. There are some obvious reasons:
- When I was pregnant with Elliot, I contracted CMV, and passed it to him. I have a newfound fear of pregnancy. After having Ana, I took for granted that I would have a healthy child. I have struggled with some guilt at not having kept my Elliot safe inside me. And yes, I do know that there's nothing I could have done to change the course of things, but that fear and guilt exists nonetheless.
- We will consult with a perinatalogist because of this fact. My ob/gyn has recommended this. Having a professional outside of our family saying "high risk" and "pregnancy" in the same breath unlocks those fears. Although I should say that the risk of passing CMV comes only if the mother contracts this virus for the first time while she is pregnant. By pregnancy, most women have already had CMV before, and thus have the antibodies floating around to fight the illness should it raise its ugly head during pregnancy. I'm not afraid of CMV again. It's just the other million possibilities.
- We're struggling financially. It's no secret.
- I feel fairly stretched in terms of energy with our dynamic duo as it is.
Yikes.
What perfect timing to stumble upon an anniversary letter I wrote to Kevin shortly before Ana's birth. He was very anxious about being a dad, and worried that we would not be able to give the baby what she needed. In the letter, I assured him that he had the most important thing our baby would need: lots of love. So it's these words that I'm clinging to during these anxious first few very nauseating months.
And there is a new joy this time around. Ana is old enough to fully appreciate the enormity of this news, and to be excited by the new relationship she will have as a result. On Valentine's Day, we gave she and my mom copies of the ultrasound (at 7 wks) in a frame. Neither of them knew what they were looking at. Then, a knowing surprised look came across Tita's face, and we told Ana that "Mama has a baby in her tummy." She jumped up and down, speechless, with her tongue hanging out, for at least 2 minutes. It reminded me of her response to seeing El for the first time at the hospital: she jumped up and down, pulling at her own hair! For those of you who know Ana well, her being speechless is a rarity. She's got so many words to express herself. That's just how big this news was to her.
Since the big reveal, Ana has been very protective and clingy, which is much to be expected with some of the fears that come with this news. Will she still be the baby? Will we love the other baby more? I know that's what's behind her behaviors, so we have built in lots of special Mama-Ana time with hugs and kisses.
But when she's not in that mode, Ana is carefully monitoring what I eat, and asking if these things are good for the baby. She's fed the baby brocolli and crackers, and often offers something to the baby from her plate.
When I have a tummy ache, she's quick to offer a Preggie Pop to help with the nausea. She's been quite the caregiver. I truly enjoy watching how Ana nurtures people around her. It's quite a gift she has.
The other night, Ana spoke into my belly button as if it were a microphone.
"Hello baby. I'm going to tell you about the world. There are stumps. They are at the bottom of trees. And there are leaves on the branches. And then there's Coke. It's not good for you. Grown ups drink it sometimes. You can drink some when you're a grown up." I'm grateful she'll be in the baby's life to explain Mother Nature and Caffienated Drinks. Essentials of life in America.
Ana also brings our two pregnancy books to me often. She's amazed to learn that one week baby is a small olive, the next time, a strawberry. She loves looking at the pictures of the fetus developing, and of the the pregnant mom's body changing. She has lots of questions about this period. After we explained how the role of the umbilical cord, and how her daddy cut hers shortly after birth, Ana noted gratefully that "it would be terrible if grown ups were stuck to other people with these tubes." Side-splitting fun(-0;
She's told me she wants to see the baby come out. I've assured her that she can see the baby shortly after. Ana is a part of this pregnancy. In a big way. And I am happy to share the miracle of this with her, and the joy of this new addition with her. She keeps reinforcing to me, that we DO have what this baby needs: A whole lot of love. And that love will come from all of us.
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