20 Week Ultrasound

Our 20 week visit came quickly and let me tell you there are few things in my life which have ever created as much excitement as this visit. To date, our visits have been great. Everything has gone smooth and Jellybean appears to be right on track with development. The 20 week ultrasound is one of those visits that you always remember, as it's the first time you get to see your baby and the human features he/she has developed. It's also the time when you can eliminate the use of he/she and determine once and for all if the nursery needs to be painted pink or blue.

Finding out the sex is one of those very interesting topics. My sister recently had a baby boy, and she and her husband decided not to find out the sex, opting instead to be surprised at the moment of delivery. I was never a very big fan of doing this, but I must say that finding out on the night of the delivery was a very exciting moment for everyone. My brother in law texted me from the delivery room, "Boy." At the sight of this I let out a scream which had much of the hospital staff scurrying around the make sure that everyone was okay. Needless to say, it was awesome.

Having experienced this through them, Amanda and I started to see the benefits of waiting and, as we neared that fateful 20 week visit, both of us were convinced that we would be able to hold off on finding out. Within a week of the visit, we were starting to change our minds. We're both fairly nosy people, so it really wasn't suprising to me that we were breaking. The night before the visit, we were ready to know and both very much okay with that. The morning of, Amanda was still not 100%.

I was ready to find out and I think she was too. As we sat there in the ultrasound room Amanda was telling the technician that we want to find out, but she was still toiling with the decision. At that moment, Amanda looked at the screen and asked, "Is that a little sack?" Ready or not, we are having a boy and couldn't be happier about finding out.

Our US tech was great. She took dozens of pictures and made sure that we took each one home. It's amazing how small he is, but at the same time how much he looks so human. We saw legs, arms, fingers and toes (10 each) and even a little nose. It's hard to believe that we still have 20 more weeks of growing. Everything checked out great as far as development and we are feeling extrememly blessed and very excited for all that is to come.

Pitcher of beer for one, please...

There are a wide range of things which guys will naturally feel guilty about during the course of a 9 month pregancy. We don't gain weight (or at least don't have an excuse to), we don't have to eliminate the foods we love, we don't get hair in places where there shouldn't be hair, etc etc. One thing I feel most guilty about in our house is my continued love affair with glasses of wine, pints of beer, and the occasional snippet of vodka, as my beautiful, pregnant wife sits by my side drinking water and orange juice.

Let me preface this entry by first admitting that our entire relationship was founded on alcohol. We met at a bar where we were both working at the time. The first night we ever worked together, Amanda got off around 9pm and proceeded to get absolutely hammered which led to 3am phone calls from her asking if I wanted to "make out with her". Throughout the years that we've been together, beers, wine, and vodka have been staples for us on any given night of the week. Nothing compares to a nice glass of wine while watching a bunch of fatties try to lose weight.

Needless to say, these inebreiated times have changed. One of the first big adjustments we had to make was cutting alcohol out of her life. Obviously something that is easy for her to do given the circumstance but still a big change. Especially since I am not joining her sobriety. Now don't get me wrong, I sympathize with my wife and I feel for her as she is forced to give up the things she loves. But, as I am so often reminded, I'm not the one who is pregnant. My desire to have a glass of wine (or 3) at night has not subsided even with the loss of my drinking buddy. She has made it very easy for me to continue things like that, though. There's never any guilt or pressure to resist some wine or a beer and she's mentioned that it actually makes her feel more comfortable for me to stay in routines like that.

I have tried to adapt a little bit. For instance, when she and I go out to eat, I rarely ever order any alcohol with dinner. While I like to think that she appreciates this, one of the big reasons for doing so is to cut down on the needless money spent on alcohol at a restaurant. By not ordering 2 beers at $5 a pop we can save a little bit here and a little bit there. It's actually quite amazing what a bill looks like with no alcohol. It's kinda nice.

At home I try to have one or two nights a week where the wine stays corked. It helps me to refresh the system and remind me that I don't have a problem and I think it also does make Amanda feel better, too. At 18 weeks she has not had any alcohol, and doesn't really ever want any either. She's been told that a glass of wine now and then is totally fine and I think that glass will be against her lips sooner than later.

12 Week Doctor Visit, The Re-Re-Re Confirmation

It appears as though convincing Amanda that she's really pregnant is going to be an ongoing effort throughout the 9 months. There are two things playing a role in this which I've mentioned before, 1) Our previous miscarriage and 2) An overall lack of symptoms for Amanda. Her conviction is peaked after each doctor visit and gradually begins to wane as the weeks wear on. Needless to say, by the morning of the 12 week appointment Amanda was wondering if her belly was empty.

Not sure if I have mentioned it or not, but our doctor's office has four doctors that we'll be working with, any of whom may be the one that will ultimately deliver our baby. Our first visit was with Dr. Karen King. She was great and we epxected nothing less for our 12 week visit. Oddly enough, we met with Mrs. Doubtfire that morning. Okay, maybe not really, but she was very British and had the most soft spoken voice ever. She was just as nice and attentive as Dr. King and once more reassured us that we chose the right place to help us through our first pregnancy.

During our 8 week visit, a swab of Amanda's baby shoot was taken to test for various things. The sample was compromised and could not be tested, so another swab was to be taken during this visit. Normally, I would excuse myself but for whatever reason Mrs. Doubtfire was able to convince me that if I simply stayed at Amanda's head I would be just fine. That wasn't entirely true.

Perhaps it's just me, but I really don't think there is a situation that could be any more awkward than looking at a woman looking at your wife's vagina. Especially when it's Mrs. Doubtfire (or at least Mrs. Doubtfire's skinnier sister). I suppose as a woman, when another woman sits down between your spread legs, looks at your Mommy button and says, "Hmmm, lovely" that's good. For me, it's just another moment that I'll chalk up as uncomfortable. Funny now, though.

The obvious crucial element to this visit was to check on the heartbeat. Mrs. Doubtfire pulled out a nifty piece of equipment I would simply call a Little Heartbeat Checker Thing. Fits in the palm of her hand and allows all standersby to hear the heart. Needless to say, this is something that needs to be sold at Best Buy for the purposes of calming a nervous mother to be between doctor visits. It was coated with goo and pressed firmly against Amanda's stomach. And now we wait...

As the husband of a nervous wreck mother-to-be, I only wanted one thing; to hear the heartbeat and to hear it instantaneously without delay. It's amazing how quickly the mind can race and wander in a matter of ten seconds, after which time we still didn't hear anything. As the doctor poked and pressed my eyes stayed fixed on Amanda, who I could tell was growing more and more nervous with each passing nanosecond. Within my own mind, I couldn't think about anything other than hearing a heartbeat. There are no calming methods or consolation techniques which can be applied to an expecting mother after an unsuccessful search for a heartbeat.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was more like 45 seconds, a heartbeat. And a strong one. It truly is a sound I can listen to all day long. Instant relief for us both. Mrs. Doubtfire called it quite strong (168), and once again Amanda can perch atop her mountain of confidence that everything is going smooth. The two of us were left to collect our things and before exiting the room we embraced in relief and joy.

12 weeks in and I can't say that I have ever experienced such a wide range of emotions in such a relatively short period of time. As we enter the second trimester I'm sure we'll face even more. Names, nursery decor, and answers to millions of questions we haven't a clue about are sure to ensue. Stay posted.

8 Week Doctor visit

"Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense regardless of how it turns out."

December 2nd, 2010. The 8 week appointment had arrived and needless to say both Amanda and I were both quite anxious and very nervous. We arrived at the hospital and made our way up to the third floor. On the elevator we rode with a young lady on crutches wearing street clothes. Amanda and I are both very nosy when it comes to other people and what they are doing so I'm sure Amanda was just as busy as I was trying to figure out where this girl was going and what her business was that morning. She too got off on the third floor and all of us went into suite 325, the hospital's Women's Center. When we entered into the lobby I lost site of the girl on crutches and focused more on the our own task.

Amanda checked in and within moments we were escorted back to the patient rooms where Amanda and I were seated and told that we'd be helped momentarily. To our surprise, the first person we met with was the young girl on crutches. She's a midwife and was there simply to talk with us about the information we'd given them to date and to just make sure that we didn't have any pressing questions or concerns. We were made aware that no ultrasound was scheduled for that day but one could be performed if we were concerned about it. We were. We really wanted to simply make sure that the little guy was okay so that we can stop wondering.

I excused myself while they did some lady tests on Amanda and was welcomed back once the ultrasound room was all set for us. Within seconds of being in that room I started flashing back to the only other time we were in a room like this awaiting the same exact test. Amanda laying on her back in a gown, doctors surrounding us, and the only light in the room was from the ultrasound monitor. Then, a clear difference appeared: a little shape on the monitor. Our baby. Added to that, our baby's heartbeat. Strong and steady.

I've said before that one thing I'll never forget is the look on Amanda's face at the moment we realized that we'd miscarried. I'll also never forget the look on her face at the moment we saw an image of our first child. It was sheer elation and joy coupled with releif and amazement.

Stress, stress, stress...

“Stress is an ignorant state. It believes that everything is an emergency."

Pregnancy is stressful enough, no question. But add to this a still vivid memory of a miscarriage and you pretty much double the stress level. Most pregnant women would consider a lack of symptoms to be a blessing. When you've experienced a miscarriage, a lack of symptoms leaves you wondering what's wrong. From the start of this pregnancy I knew a high stress environment would be a setting I'd need to get used to. For someone on medication for high blood pressure, this could pose an unhealty element to our daily lives.

Now just to clarify, my HBP is mainly due to a contaminated blood line. Both my mother and father have been taking multiple HBP medications for years and the issue managed to skip both my older sisters and funnel directly into me. For anyone who knows me, I certainly don't walk around all high-strung and worried. I rarely get upset and I usually maintain a calm exterior. Internally, though, is enough bottled up worry and stress to elevate BP levels to a staggering 200/110 (a recent reading at the DR's office that resulted in a nurse asking if I was "the guy with the ridiculously high blood pressure"). A recent increase in medication has brought this down to earth, but a battle over my health between my medication and this pregnancy has certainly begun.

Our 8 week doctor's appointment is looming and this visit will confirm two things, 1) we're farther along this time than the last pregnancy and 2) everything is still fine this time around. It's this second item which is the cause for concern around our household. Amanda keeps waiting for that shoe to drop as she scrutinizes over each and every aspect of the pregnancy. Minor shooting pains, headaches, dizziness, etc all cease to exist as normal symptoms and become a reason to worry about what's wrong. Take away all of these feelings, and it's even worse, as the lack of noticeable symptoms creates a nervousness the pregnancy is no more.

The one thing I do know, is that another miscarriage is going to be devastating. All of these daily stresses and worries are inconsequential to the reality of what could potentially happen at the doctor's office. I try to stay glass half full and tell Amanda that everything is going to be okay, but all I can think of is the heartache that filled her face in the ultrasound office many months ago. All we're hoping for is to locate the baby and see that everything is still okay.

If at first you don't succeed, cry and try again...

I wasn't quite sure when to bring this up, but I figured sooner is better for the purposes of this blog. This is not the first time that Amanda and I have received a positive pregnancy test result. In January 2010 we were stunned by a positive test result and were left wondering if we were ready for what was ahead. Amanda was quite hysterical and I have to admit I was a bit unsure of things. The night we found out we sat there on the couch as she cried on my shoulder and tried to assure her that things would be okay. Two weeks later we found ourselves in the exact same position, but for very different reasons.

When you're not expecting something like news of a new baby, it can be quite alarming. To be honest, though, up to that point we'd been "casually careless" in the bedroom. Regardless, we weren't really sure what to do or what to think. Perhaps it's the permanance associated with pregnancy, but it doesn't take long to come to grips with the changes that are coming. Within a few days of finding out, both of us were resigned to what was happening and excitement started to replace the initial feeling of terror. Amanda synced up with a doctor, sampled a few non-alcoholic beers and we braced ourselves for the coming months.

The timing of all this was a little odd, as Amanda's parents were expected in town within a week of us finding out. We knew that they would be suspicious of Amanda not partaking in any alcoholic beverages, so the question became, do we tell them or do we simply go about things and let them think whatever they want. They were coming from San Diego, so it was hard to think about letting the opportunity to tell them in person slip by, since we weren't sure when we'd see them again. We decided to go ahead and spread the news to the entire family, knowing that at only about 6 or 7 weeks things were still very early. Needless to say, all family members were surprised and excited. We even told a few friends. Less than two weeks into finding out and our comfort factor with everything had really started to steamroll.

There are obviously many side effects associated with a pregnancy. One of them being "spotting", which is a small amount of visible bleeding. I guess spotting is a term used as a calming effect to emphasize the non-critical nature of it. There's certainly a gray area when determining an acceptable amount of spotting, and on one particular Tuesday morning Amanda felt as though this line was crossed. She called me concerned about serious stomach cramping and a lot of blood in the toilet. She was able to set up a doctor's appointment for that same day and I dropped what I was doing to meet her there.

The next few hours were a bit of a blur. After a stop into the doctor we were routed over to another office to have a sonogram done to determine if we were still pregnant. I like to think I'm a glass half-full kind of person when it comes to certain situations, but in this case I have to admit that my glass was half-empty, and my heart was fully broken at the thought of how Amanda was going to react if things didn't come out in our favor.

Sitting in the sonogram room, the one thing I remember is how dark it was in that room save for the glow from the monitor. The nurse took some general information and based on that spit out an expected due date of September 11. News which certainly didn't help with the eerie nature of our business there. After a few minutes of searching for anything resembling a baby, our nurse excused herself, saying she needed to speak with the doctor. My glass was fully empty at this point.

Holding back tears, Amanda looked at me and asked, "Do you think it's going to be okay?" I'm sure I replied with something like "Everything is going to be fine", but all I could think about was how much this would crush my wife's heart. We were barely two weeks into the pregnancy, but Amanda was fully invested. We'd told our family, bought all of the books we needed to educate ourselves, heck Amanda had even started keeping a journal in which she would write notes to our expected child. We'd come to grips with what was coming into our lives and couldn't have been more excited. But it just wasn't our time yet.

We were asked to leave the sonogram room and were escorted into a much smaller room, which as far as I could tell was a waiting room that also acted as a patient exit room. When the doctor came in she started talking and I think I blacked out. Her tone immediately confirmed the bad news we were hoping to avoid. The pain on Amanda's face is something I'll never forget. When the doctor left the room we remained there for a few minutes to try and absorb what the hell just happened. I mean, what do you say? There was just silence.

We took the rest of the day off to be with each other and try to begin to come to grips with things. The next few days and weeks were quite difficult. We had to call our family and let them know what had happened, boxed up our baby books, and tried to move foward.

If there was one good thing that came from this, it's that those two weeks revealed to us that we are ready to start a family. It would be months before we would start trying again, but we did and here we are. Scared to death of the possibilities. Excited for what is to come.

Prologue

I'm sure this is news to most, but Amanda and I are expecting our first child. We found out about two weeks ago, are due in July and are very excited. It's still very early and there are a lot of uncerainties ahead of us. Also ahead of us are sure to be truly exciting and memorable events and that I want to chronicle as well as I can. To do this, I'm becoming an (un)official blogger.

I've never blogged. As a New Year's Resolution for '08 I tried to keep a journal. That lasted until March and was spotty at best as far as daily entires go. At the start of '09 I tried to reignite the journal idea and I think I got as far as one entry. So needless to say my track record for things like this is not very good. But what better excuse to use for blogging than the expected arrival of my first child?

I have one main goal during the duraction of this blog and that is to be as honest and as candid as possible. I not only want to highlight the critical elements of the pregnancy, but also the events that have led us to this point. While I want to focus on the excitement surrounding the coming months, I want to be sure to note the down times and those unexpected hurdles which can make life challenging.

Some of these entries will be funny. Some sad. Some insightful and some downright stupid. Perhaps some of these will be written under the influence of alcohol. Hey, I'm not the one who's knocked up. We'll laugh, we'll cry. You'll ask, "What the hell is wrong with this guy?" I have only one rule when it comes to reading these--

Have a kick-ass time (fisties)...