I seem not to be able to gather up the momentum to actually post more than once or twice every two weeks. Yargh.
Lots has happened in this last two, make that three, weeks. I went through finals and then graduated with my MBA:
I had family in town:
My belly grew:
And I knit!!
This is the second Baby Surprise Jacket. I just love the little elephants. I have many other projects that require buttons coming down the pike, so any suggestions for online button resources would be greatly appreciated. I seem to have exhausted the cuteness available from my local fabric stores and LYS's. Speaking of buttons, I also added darling little sailboats to BSJ#1:
I've also been spinning the singles that will become the colorwork yarn for my Mom's jacket from Rowan #40 made out of the grey North Ronaldsay yarn we bought int he Orkneys last year. That project is so immense, though, that I will have to save it for another time.
This last month has seemed like a marathon that would just never end. I've been dealing with some stuff regarding the pregnancy, as well. Should I start this story from the beginning? Sure. Why not. Most of you that read this blog already know the story since I have been endlessly bitching about it for nearly a month now, so you can feel free to skip this part.
From the very beginning: I started this pregnancy at 184lbs and a size 12 for pants and size medium tops since I'm not large-chested. I am 5'7" tall. This is technically "overweight" but I think I look fine for my height and I certainly don't look fat. If anything, I just have giant powerful Venus Williams legs and a bedunkadunk butt. I chose my existing gynecologist as my OB since I was scared that I might miscarry or have problems based on a long and storied history of "female problems" and she is in one of the best practices in the city for high-risk pregnancies. We have always gotten along in the gynecological setting, so I figured we'd be fine when our relationship shifted to an obstetrical focus.
I was emphatically wrong. At my 24 week appointment, I dared gain 7.5 pounds over the last month, which, according to her, was too much. I might add that that 7.5 pounds brought me to a grand total of 18 pounds for the entire pregnancy. She thought the "rapid" weight gain signaled that I might have gestational diabetes, which freaked me the hell out. When I asked how it is treated, she went straight to "injectible insulin".
While I was bawling on the exam table, she proceeded to lecture me on nutrition (I eat a very healthy diet because of the Celiac Disease, a fact she refused to give credit to), the need to walk at least 45 minutes a day (walking to and from the bus and work apparently doesn't count) and that yoga wasn't exercise (I beg to differ). She made me feel like I was intentionally harming my baby by gaining weight and that I had caused the gestational diabetes (WHICH SHE HADN'T EVEN SCREENED FOR YET).
(since I've been writing this post for a week...) Yesterday I had my 28-week glucose test with my OB. I was nervous as hell, the test made me sick, etc etc. Her surly nurse took my weight and blood pressure, without bothering to tell me what it was. Then the OB came in, looked at my chart, asked me if I was feeling "better" (she attributes my breakdown last appointment to school and work stress, not to her callous crappy care), then said my weight and blood pressure looked "good". I was already so pissed, and had decided that we were switching practices to a nurse-midwife practice, that I didn't ask her what exactly "good" meant. Maybe she thought it was "good" that I have actually LOST 2 pounds since my last appointment? I have no idea. Then she measured my belly, which was the first time she had ever done that, and said I was "measuring a little big, but that she wasn't going to worry about it until next time". "Big"?? "Worry"?? What?? She seemed to have already made up her mind that the *screening* test I took yesterday would come out positive. No mention of the fact that it would need to be followed up with a three-hour fasting test, etc. etc. etc. to confirm the diagnosis. Then her surly nurse had the audacity to tell me that I would get the results of yesterday's test either today or Monday because she would be out of the office on Friday. I felt like yelling "Tough shit! Then have someone else call me!" I don't feel like I should have to wait all weekend for the test results simply because one nurse in a practice of 9 OBs is out of the damn office!
The thing is, my OB probably felt like yesterday's appointment went great. To her, it must've looked like I took her nutritional "counseling" to heart (I didn't and haven't changed a damn thing about my diet or the amount of exercise I do) and that she had given me an ample chance to ask questions (I'm sorry, but a quick "doyouhaveanyquestions?" while you're trying to run out the door doesn't cut it). She was also probably relieved that there was no crying this time. I felt brushed off, prediagnosed (and incorrectly at that!) and minimized. The woman has given me a guilt complex about eating, feeling fat and gaining any amount of weight this pregnancy. She has destroyed my trust in her medical abilities. And it is the worry she instilled about this test that had me up at 3:46 this morning with no hope of falling back to sleep.
So I am going to a practice of 3 nurse-midwives instead. I met with one of them on Wednesday and I loved her. She's been practicing for 26 years and they (of course) encourage natural childbirth any which way you choose to do it. No mandatory IVs, no offer of drugs unless you request them, no FREAKING THE PATIENT OUT. The midwife said that in her entire time of practicing she could count on one hand the number of times a patient had gestational diabetes that had to be regulated with insulin and that the only difference in my treatment if I do in fact have it is that she wouldn't want me to go *too* far past my due date. Oh, and each of their appointments is scheduled for a half hour regardless, so there will be plenty of time to talk.
This has been such a sick and stressful pregnancy already, I just can't wait for the damn thing to be over!
6.16.2007
Every Two, make that three, Weeks
Posted by Sarah at 6/16/2007
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