Oh what a week! I had a few posts planned but in the roller coaster days that followed Mae eating a bagel, things have been a little too busy to sit down and type. So today will be mini updates (I hope... I'm so bad at writing mini-anythings... too much rambling goes on when I start to type), to hopefully combine all those posts that I almost wrote, or that I started that are now half finished in my draft bin (posts rarely, rarely make it out of the draft bin around here!):
Baby is measuring big on the measuring tape, so I guess we'll see if he'll actually surpass his biggest sisters record as our heaviest baby, or if he's going to continue the pattern of each baby being just a little bit smaller than the previous one (or if he'll be somewhere in the middle).
|Patch, the transverse baby.|
With the section it doesn't really matter what position he's in and transverse has yet to become the most annoying position I can think of since baby still has a lot of growing to do, but I do find myself wondering if baby is going to spent the majority of the next few months kicking me in the side just like his big brother (Patch was transverse when he was delivered).
So... a few weeks ago something happened and I didn't write about or even mention it to my mom when I called her that night on the phone because... well, it took my brain a while to process it and I really sort of pushed it out of my thoughts in a "well that was scary... let's not think about it again... maybe you're just being dramatic?" sort of way.
One Friday evening Paul and I were loading the kids in the car after finishing up an outing. I'd just picked up someone (I think all 25 lbs of Patch) from where he was standing and stood him on the edge of the inside of the car so he could climb into his seat, when I felt the worst, worst feeling I could have imagined. It was like the pain of oh... maybe transition? I yelled. Paul took the kids and I somehow made it into my seat. I waited for it to pass. And it hurt and hurt and hurt... a sort of stabby, sort of contraction-y, sort of being torn in two sort of pain that had Paul racing to get the kids into their seats to take me to the ER.
Fast forward back to the doctor's appointment when, just as it was ending I remembered and said "oh, I forgot, something weird happened..." and related the story, noticing that my doctor did not seem to think it was quite as unimportant as I did when I was telling it. After the telling and rechecking my bump he said that while it could have been a cyst rupturing he thinks that part of my c-section scar on the uterus had adhered to something else inside my body and it sounds like it tore away from whatever it was attached to... and if it happens again, especially with bleeding, just go straight to labor and delivery to get checked.
So... here's hoping it doesn't happen again, because I'm pretty sure if it does I will completely panic, knowing what the doctor thinks it could be (and also because, incisions tearing from anything just doesn't sound like something that should be happening).
I think Quick Take #3 is a classic example of how I can never make it through 7 Quick Takes without making one way, way too long. Hopefully #4 makes up for it. Here's a picture Maggie made in therapy by gluing together fish that she requested from her therapist (she's a big fan of gluing):
In the afternoon, when she was a mix of not feeling well and still super hyper I gave her an antihistamine, hoping that maybe that would stop whatever was taking place, since we don't really know what exactly it is about wheat that makes her so sick (allergy? celiacs? gluteo-morphine reaction?).
The week that's followed has been a bit of a roller coaster. It hasn't been as bad as it has in the past. I'm not sure if that's because she has gained tools for managing the pain and communicating what's going on, or because some part of the various supplements I threw together actually worked.
Mornings have bee good. She didn't lose her words after the second day or grind her teeth nearly as much. The afternoons have been harder. She tends to get sick (and feel like she has a fever) in the afternoons. One night was still spent sobbing and screaming (which is always the worst part of what happens post-gluten).
I'm hoping she's through the worst of it and relatively hopeful that it might not take as long to recover this time, since she definitely doesn't seem to have regressed in the same way she has in the past.
Thank you to everyone who prayed for us this week! We definitely felt those prayers!
If you're on facebook you may have already seen this but I had to share it here too. Before the gluten incident Mae was sitting at the table coloring. She told me "mermaid! Mermaid!" while she drew, indicating that she was drawing a mermaid. And she did. I was ridiculously proud of her, since so far most of her drawings are shapes and lines and I just had to share it on the blog itself:
For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!