sueeeus

Happy Birthday to Me. Look. Snow. In March. I love cherry blossoms. They’re so pretty, yet they cause so much misery. That is, to those with pollen allergies. Like me. Claritin at night, Zyrtec in the morning. Oh joy. Plus fish oil and a handful of other things. My current prenatal vitamins have a DHA supplement that leaves a horrible aftertaste. I’ll be glad when they’re gone, and I can switch back to a different prenatal vitamin.

Yes, a very exciting 43rd birthday. Up at 4:30 a.m. to attend a 4-hour class in the city, that started at 6 a.m. What kind of people set hours like that? Excruciating. We did venture out to a Chinese restaurant for dinner that was very good! The busy body loved the fish tank, and wanted to get in. He makes dining out a challenge and an adventure. Needless to say, we don’t dine out often. We could work on our parenting skills and establish some discipline. Or put it off for another day when we have more patience and energy. I know, wrong answer. Meanwhile, the wild child grows wilder still. Seriously. I AM trying to teach him to be considerate. Three year old’s, I’ve discovered, haven’t much attention span with which to work.

Daffodils are such a happy sight in spring. So cheerful. Not as cheerful when snowflakes are falling on them.

My leeks survived my garden and winter, both! I ventured into the realm of gardening last year, planted too late, and didn’t make the wisest choices for my garden box. The broccoli overpowered everything, and got infested with some gross larvae stuff from what I originally thought were pretty white butterflies or moths. They left a horrible wake, and I ended up yanking all the broccoli up and throwing it in the compost. The snap peas, string beans, and tomatoes choked out the poor leeks, but when all was said and done, I pulled them all and left the leeks for the winter. They are surprisingly hardy. This season I may just stick to herbs. And leeks.

Today’s ultrasound went very well. There is a rotating team, it seems, and I had a completely different technician and doctor today, and I liked both much, much better than the last team. The technician narrated as she worked. It was great to have the ongoing explanation. My little peanut is a wiggle-worm, though, and just wouldn’t stay put long enough to get any level of detail that they really needed. The technician also wasn’t able to clearly tell the gender, but from the briefest of glances that she was able to see, she said she gives it a 70% chance of being… …a… …GIRL!!!! But not to get all worked up about it, because only time will tell.

The doctor came in later and rescanned, trying to get more clear data on the heart. She spent a lot of time looking at the heart, and I was beginning to get a bit anxious, but she explained that the baby is just moving too much, and she can’t get clear enough details to say one way or another, if all is well or not. Apart from that, all the things that could be read were very good. Kidneys, check. Heart rate, check. Stomach, check. Intestines, check. The doctor said that they should be able to tell much more at my 20 week scan, in which they can do a more thorough anatomy check, and she recommended I come back at week 21 or 22 for a detailed echo with the pediatric cardiology specialist. She also said that she and her colleague were in disagreement as to the usefulness of the blood work screen with the Down Syndrome marker, because they have no data for the sake of comparison, with women of ‘advanced maternal age’ who have diabetes. The diabetes can throw off other hormonal measurements, so she doesn’t think they can rely much on any accuracy wrt that marker. Which is fine by me. I know this baby is fine, anyway. I just know it. So I’m continuing to try to uphold my peaceful frame of mind.

The baby likes to flail its arms. Such an active little thing! And such a beautiful profile! The picture doesn’t do it justice. But what can you do, when your little peanut just won’t hold still. I’m smitten. Completely. Totally. Absolutely. Smitten.

Ahhhhhhhh.

It all began when, shortly after announcing my intention to visit the land of Soup, Bec so graciously invited me to visit Sydney as well. Oh wait. Maybe I invited myself. It’s amazing how presumptuous one can become when under the influence of Zoloft, which so effectively strips away one’s social anxiety. She was most gracious, regardless of how conniving I may or may not have been!

Day 1 (Day 10 overall; Wednesday)

After a wistful adieu to Suse, and a nice short flight, I arrived at Sydney’s airport, to be met by none other than the Prof*. He is a delightful fellow indeed, and I still marvel at myself, somewhat, for being so bold as to throw myself into the arms of a family whom I’ve known only vicariously through the blogosphere. What an adventure!!

From the airport, we went to pick up the children from school. Sparkle truly does sparkle! She cupped my face in her little hands and looked into my eyes with her twinkling aquamarine eyes (eyes like the sea, after a storm**, just like her mother’s –gosh, they have the most incredible eyes) and said, “You’re pretty. You’re nice. I like you.” Now, is that not something to melt one’s heart?

Next came the Gorgeous Boy. Who truly is a gorgeous boy. So full of life and energy. So precise when speaking and sounding out his words. Off he ran to find the Pea Princess. She is a lovely girl, mature for her age, smart, kind, patient, and gentle with her younger siblings. These children certainly are a reflection of good parenting. My three year old points to something on his dinner plate and says, “What the hell is that?” How is that for contrast? (In my defense, I never seldom say WTH. Gadget, on the other hand, uses it quite readily. And yes, we have much work to do in the attitude department with ourselves and with our little guy.)

After the school pickup, we went to the park, then to the train station where Bec was waiting. In the flesh! She’s gorgeous. Big smiles, big hugs. One of the funniest things Sparkle said, about my visit, and me being president pregnant, was that I wouldn’t be able to “drink wine with Mummy.” It still makes me laugh, to think of it.

So there you have it. Family von Sparkle. They truly do sparkle. All of them. The twins are ingenious, making up games to entertain themselves. There is an oblong carpet in the living room with a dark border and a reddish interior with two or three sections of dark contrasting dots spanning the width. The twins run around the border of the carpet as fast as they can, trying not to fall in to the… ….volcano! And once in a while they detour and step very, very carefully on tiptoe, across the dots. Once in a while one will fling him or herself into the volcano and writhe about for a moment before jumping up and starting to chase the other around the perimeter again. All amidst peals of laughter. So entertaining! I loved being able to observe the family in action! And the Pea Princess reads, I suspect, nearly as much as BabelBabe, if that is at all possible. I myself can hardly comprehend it, but in the short time I was there, I know she went through at least 3 books! It dizzies my mind. How do these wonders do it? I read about as fast as I speak (which isn’t all that fast), sounding out each and every word.

Schloss von Sparkle –yes, I know I’m butchering the pseudo German, but being pseudo gives me full license to butcher at will, doesn’t it?– is gorgeous, with it’s high ceilings, crown moldings, long hallway and covered porch. I love the architectural details. And the flowers in the garden.

Day 2 (Day 11; Thursday)

Off to meet another old friend from Adelaide, who I met at a hostel while backpacking in Ireland, many years ago. She’s just had a gorgeous baby girl, now 4 months old and deliciously squeezable. She has relatives in Sydney and scheduled her visit to coincide with mine, so I could finally meet her partner and children. The elfen boy is my new best friend. He’s nearly 4, and warmed up to me quickly. He held my hand all day long, as we crossed streets, boarded the ferry, and explored the city. We had a glorious day.

An amazing didgiridoo player. Boats sailing at extreme angles! The harbor! The opera house! Manly Beach! Bondi Beach! Water, glorious water, splashing and sparkling like diamonds.

Day 3 (Day 12; Friday)

Another adventure! Off to the Blue Mountains to meet Blue Mountains Mary!!

Instant camaraderie and hours of great conversation!

Amazing scenery. I love the tiles in Mary’s bathroom. Souvenirs (and a little disturbance of national park flora***). Another incredible day.

Day 4 (Day 13; Saturday)

A quiet day, meandering through shops with the Family von Sparkle. Food is expensive! Pigs, oh my! Pea Princess, bless her loving heart, gave me a souvenir — mini Australian road signs! I love the way someone took the trouble to decorate the sidewalks. Ours (in my neck of the woods) are less than inspiring.

Later that day… …lunch with none other than Aunty Evil and My Float! Great company. Lovely women, lovely conversation (with the exception of just a teensy weensy instance of TMI, but I’ll leave that for someone else to blog about, should they ever have the inclination). Blue water, blue sky. A delightful setting with an open air view of the beach. Delicious food****. And a peek at Aunty Evil’s sleek new car! I love that new car smell.

Wouldn’t you know, in the excitement of it all, that I completely forgot to wish the Sydney bloggers all the best from the Melbourne bloggers.  (Sorry, everyone.  Please forgive!)  …And so it was another fabulous day.

Day 5 (Day 14; Sunday)

A quiet morning. It’s hard to say goodbye to Australia, and it’s been the best vacation of my life.

But anticipation builds as I look forward to seeing my own boys again. How I’ve missed them! I’ve been on the go and surrounded by warm, beautiful, and loving people throughout this entire journey, but there’s nothing like home, when it’s all said and done. How excited I am to see them once more!

*Is it just me, or is he very (young) Sean Conneryesque? And I mean that in the nicest way. Lucky Bec. What a gorgeous family, all around!

**said Buttercup of Wesley, from The Princess Bride

***Can you believe this gorgeous little scent diffuser (add a few drops of eucalyptus oil) is made from a banksia pod, similar to the strange, other-worldly rodent- with- fuzzy- tumors- looking thing in the background? Mary is just waiting to out me on this! Yes, I snagged it from a tree (stupid, obtuse, oblivious Yank, doesn’t know the difference between National Park and weeds by the wayside), and brought it home, through Customs and all. I DID itemize it on my declaration, but they only asked me if the food I had was candy, and I said yes. Because the food I had WAS candy. I didn’t lie! I didn’t bring up the fact that I had a seed pod in my backpack. They didn’t ask. I know, I know. I blame it on the Zoloft. Lack of social and cultural discretion, and all. Ahem.

****I ended up SHORT when it came time to square the bill. Mortified! Bec graciously covered me. I’m still embarrassed. Honestly.  And I never paid her back.  I feel like such a cad.

So much to say, so much to show. Where to begin?

Day 1.

Meeting a dear old friend at the airport. A drive through a new city, and out to the country. Lorakeets in the trees. Parrots. Crimson Rosella. Cockatoos (cockies). Birds, amazing birds! Birds! Everywhere! A mud brick home with a view of forever, off to the Dandenongs. A wallaby in the back yard.

Day 2.

A giant kangaroo, alone, in the back yard. The former mob leader, ousted when a younger, stronger male rose up. A day in the city. A wealth of intricate and ornate architecture. A gift for a friend. Wandering through the market. Fresh strawberries. Japanese pancake. Bulgogi and kimchee. Licorice. Gelato. Uggs.

Day 3.

A quiet day in a mud brick house. A trip to a wonderland store filled with hand dyed felts and wools. Exquisite felt toys. Winterwood. A small fortune (well) spent on wool and art. A family of excited boys, bursting with enthusiasm over the gift.

Day 4.

A walk by the river. The Yarra. An art shop. An antique shop. Souvenirs found. A small leaf tile and a felted wool and silk case from the art shop. Inspirational pottery carvings. Silver charms from the antique shop. A dove bearing good news. A cherry. Good coffee. Lattes, served in glasses. A pottery book from a charming used book shop.

Day 5.

A drive along the coast. The Great Ocean Road. Built by returning soldiers, after the war.

A beach house with a view of the ocean. Koalas clinging to branches in the manna gums*.

King parrots. Yellow tailed black cockatoos and gang-gangs. Wye River.

Day 6.

Sunrise on the ocean. The moon is upside down! The Southern Cross. Fish and chips. Barramundi.

Exploring tide pools. Amazing textures.

Walking on the beach.

Hours of conversation.

Day 7.

Another glorious sunrise. The sea sparkles like diamonds. A drive further down the coast. Apollo Bay. Then up through the rainforest. The Otway Ranges. Farmland. Trees. Old growth timbers, decimated. Back to the city.

Day 8.

A little boy sets off on a great adventure. Sailing. Away at camp for a week. Cheerful goodbyes. Another sighting of the back yard wallaby. A drive through the city. The whirlwind tour. Dinner with old friends. Lovely ladies from childhood. Names heard for over 25 years, with faces at last. Shakahara. Delicious Indian food.

Day 9.

A gathering of ladies in the city. Federation Square. Knitting. Chatting. New friends. Smiling faces. Cuddling babies. Good coffee. Lattes in glasses again. Pancakes served with ice cream. Ice Cream! Imagine it!

Back to the hills. A walk in a national park at the end of the road. The Old Glynn’s Farm at dusk. Kangaroos! Dozens of them! Too timid to allow pictures.

Belladonna growing wild in the forest.

Last minute knitting.

An exquisite gift. A hand felted wool, silk, and muslin receiving blanket. Exquisite. Peaceful thoughts. Encouraging thoughts of the baby. Hours of conversation.

Day 10.

A wistful goodbye.

Then, on to Sydney, for a new adventure!

Many more pictures here.

*Corrected, per Suse! Mannagongs. What was I thinking?!

I’m wondering about whether I should taper off the Zoloft, or keep on it. I’ve read a gazillion different internet articles, medical based and personal blog based, about Zoloft and pregnancy. My doctor said it’s okay to stay on it, and in fact I might find that later on I may even need to increase the dose. I don’t want to increase! It’s been a tough decision to even go on it, so increasing is, to me, a step in the wrong direction. However, I read a post that Dooce made about going off Zoloft and how it was the worst thing she could have ever done to herself. I’ve also read that the baby can have withdrawal symptoms the first few days after birth, since they no longer will be getting the Zoloft in their system. And if that is true, then obviously the baby is getting the Zoloft now too, and that kind of bothers me, thinking that I’m already messing with the seratonin reception and/or production in an assumably perfect human being. And I also read that continuing the Zoloft could be the ‘lesser of two evils’ since the effect on the mother after stopping it could be much more disastrous than the withdrawal experienced by the child. Nice. Now, I don’t consider myself a super hard case, in that I’ve lived until now (for the last decade, at least) with a basic level of anxiety and depression and just assumed that that was how I was, that that was ‘me’. It wasn’t in any way unbearable, but I do actually like the more stable way I feel now. I’m a much nicer person to my husband (of course he’s always the one to get the full brunt of my moods!) Anyhow, because I’m not, or wasn’t, a complete basket case (well, that’s debatable…) without the Zoloft, I wonder if I ought to try to gradually taper off. Of course I will talk to my doctors about it before I try anything.

I’ve just about convinced myself that I will gradually taper off, but I’m torn, so torn, over it all. What to do, what to do.

And then I go and read some of the comments on the Dooce post, and wonder if perhaps I shouldn’t consider tapering off after all.  All those comments about how ludicrous it would be not to treat diabetes or cancer if one were diagnosed with those things, so why is there such stigma to treating depression and anxiety.  I accept (for the most part) my diabetes and take my Metformin faithfully, as well as watch what I eat (for the most part) and measure my blood sugar regularly, so why would I waffle as to whether I should continue with the Zoloft?  I guess it’s a question as to whether depression and anxiety are truly a ‘disease’, or whether one can just decide or will oneself out of either or both conditions.  I like to think that I can will myself into happiness and emotional stability.  Isn’t it all a frame of mind anyway?  But if I can, then why haven’t I?  And, I see little point to trying ‘natural alternatives’.  Just because an herbal or natural supplement is natural, doesn’t mean it’s not chemical, so what difference does it make whether I self treat with natural remedies or use a controlled prescription?  Both are affecting the brain via chemical interactions.   And Zoloft is a heck of a lot cheaper than SAM-e or 5-HTP ($12 for 90 days)!

Oh, I think too much!  Way.Too.Much.  And I still don’t know what to do.

I’ve officially reached my second trimester (I’m somewhere in the 14th week), and am just now allowing myself to take some deep breaths. Funny, it would seem that the morning all-day sickness has decided to visit me now. Either that, or it’s my body’s reaction to the jet lag from changing 19 time zones in short order (there are 24 time zones, right, so each hour represents a zone?). No complaints though! I count any symptoms as happy signs.

This picture was taken on Fitzroy in Melbourne. Completely unrelated to this post!

I have the next scan and blood test, phase two of my integrated scan, on the 24th. It may be possible to learn the baby’s gender at that scan! I definitely want to know. I want to know everything that I can, as soon as I can. Knowledge is comfort.

While I have a thousand 989 pictures taken during my recent trip to the land Down Under, which need to be sorted and eventually uploaded somewhere for sharing, and while I have several posts milling about in my head about my adventures and all the wonderful people I’ve had the pleasure of sharing time with, and while my Google Reader shows 94 unread posts, I will forgo all of these things for now, and begin with the status of my little Joey-Roo.

I’m beginning to wonder if I’m going to experience the joys of first trimester nausea in the second trimester instead. I’ve been feeling a bit iffy for the last few days, and am not sure if it’s due to the whirlwind of travel or the little one within. Today I heard the heartbeat! It was a healthy, steady 162 bpm. Oh, the joy! The nuchal numbers from the last screen came out well within the normal range, and the presence of the nasal bone is also encouraging. The blood test came back with a positive marker for Down Syndrome, with a 1 in 33 chance. I’d been told I had a 1 in 25 chance due to my age alone (good heavens, I’m on the cusp of 43), so that number doesn’t worry me. I know my little sprogget is just fine. So today, apart from being jet-lagged, I’m on top of the world.

My Beautiful Boy and I had toast for breakfast and I snuggled him as much as he would let me (which was a lot!).  I can tell that he is very happy that I’m home.  He was so proud of his ball cap with the kangaroo embroidered on it that he asked to wear it to daycare to show Babcia, so he didn’t even try to beg me to stay home this time.

He and Gadget made a pirate ship while I was gone. If only I could describe the smile that crossed his face when I noticed it on my desk, and told him how much I liked it, and what a good job he’d done. He was so proud, he literally beamed. My boy is growing up. Two weeks, and he seems a bit more mature. It’s a marvel.

Happiness is the joy that bursts from every pore of my being to see my own sweet superhero, groggy but smiling, all dressed up in his Spiderman outfit and strapped safely in his car seat at half past midnight.  It’s good to be home.

(It’s good to see my Gadget Man too.)

More to come…

For those who will need to recognize me at airport terminals in the very near future, I give you this. Go ahead. Click. It’s me. Larger than life.

I really wanted to wash that grey right out of my hair, but first trimester trumps vanity, so calico I remain.

But enough about me. Let’s get to the important news. Today I had my integrated screen, now called the sequential screen, and got to see my little Poppet, floating around in her* watery world. How incredible! I’ve been calmly awaiting this day for some time, but as the day drew nigh, I could feel some anxiety trying to shoulder its way in. I resisted as well as I could, and tried to maintain the most positive attitude possible**. And look! The miracle of life.

In this picture, the little wonder is waving an arm. It’s a side view of mostly head with an arm up by the left side of the face. Just like Boo, when he was in utero. It’s not much as pictures go, but the important thing, as far as I’m concerned, is that the baby is still ALIVE!!!

As far as the genetic counseling goes. Hmmm. Statistics are grim for women of my age. When I had Boo there was a triple screen, or maybe the quad screen was brand new. That gave way to the integrated screen which integrates the quad screen with a detailed ultrasound for nuchal measurements and accompanying blood test. The sequential screen takes the integrated screen and adds another detailed ultrasound for growth measurements, and maybe another blood test, and all the results are cranked through some super dee duper computer and spit out a statistic with 92% accuracy. They didn’t tell me much at this point, but I could see a squirming little peanut in there, and I could see a little heart beating, so I am relieved! And finally, the doctor did make a comment that most babies that do have Down Syndrome don’t have a bone in their nose bridge and MY baby does. So at least she gave me some encouraging news. I don’t think I much liked that office though. They were friendly enough, but intense, and not very forthcoming with information. At least not the information I wanted to hear. I wanted to hear that the baby looks healthy for this stage, or the heartbeat is right in range (I saw her mark down 140 bpm – is that good?). The dating estimated me at 12 weeks 2 days, rather than 11 weeks 1 day. But I think I’m 11 weeks 1 day. So that worries me a bit that maybe this baby is already getting too much blood sugar and growing too fatty too soon. So now I have to wait until somebody will explain the details to me.

*Yes, I say ‘her’. I just have a feeling. With nothing at all to base it upon. Time will tell and we shall see! The technician did say that it could possibly be a boy, as there was a teeny tiny nub visible, but she said it’s too soon to tell. (I still hope it’s a girl, but I will be delighted with a boy as well.)

**Case in point. This post has been floating about in my head, and I decided to preempt real time and write it before actually living it***. So how’s that for positive thinking?

***Thank GOD that the living reality panned out to the hoped for outcome!

Although the better part of me tries to avoid making stereotypical comments, assumptions, or generalizations, there are times when the other part of me surfaces. I’ll try not to be defamatory, but I’m just so frustrated.

Mr. Gadget’s son graduates from high school this year. I’m taking an alone trip (to Australia!) so he gets to take an alone trip to attend the graduation ceremony. Fair! (There’s a way in my mind that I can completely justify this as being fair, but I won’t go into the convoluted logic. It is fair! Fair!) After graduation, MG is going to bring his son and daughter back to stay with us for the summer. (Good LORD, I may need to get my hands on some Valium*!)

Mr. Gadget’s ex is not particularly good at planning and coordinating things, such as making sure that any doctor appointments that the children need are scheduled around, not during the time when they will be here. We didn’t even get to see them last year due to badly and inconsiderately scheduled appointments. This year, I started prodding MG very early so that he would coordinate with and prod the ex into getting appointments and dates lined up and squared away. Finally, we were able to agree on some dates.

Time is of the essence, because air fares climb steadily as summer approaches. Not that summer is approaching, but the fares have been climbing. Originally there was a targeted date for graduation, and then we learned it had been changed. We waited for the school to sort things out and solidify their dates. Finally, between the wishy washy school powers that be who set graduation dates and the wishy washy ex, we had the window figured out. So we hop on the internet to book tickets. One round trip from here to there for MG, two round trips from there to here for the kids. In the time it took MG to book the tickets, the prices for each rose $100. Needless to say, I was a bit miffed at him. (Mr. Independent had to do it himself, whereas moi, Ms. Lightning Fast at Internet Shopping, sat patiently by, giving him his space. I wouldn’t have been that miffed at him for taking 4 hours to get it done, but the fact that the delay caused the total trip price to rise over $200 was reason for a little bit of ire.)

A week goes by, and we receive an email from the travel company notifying us that they’ve changed one of the flights. So now the children would be flying back on a different airplane. MG was all over the customer service rep in a heartbeat, and got his flight changed to match his children’s flight. That is, after about two hours of explaining, more than once, that he’s a divorced dad going to see his kids and bring them back for a summer visit, and he’d like for them all to fly together, thank you very much, and yes, his trip is from here to there and their trip is from there to here. Yes, his return trip must match their departure trip. Exhausting.

So, not twenty minutes after he gets the new itineraries printed and copies sent to the kids, the phone rings. It’s the ex. Graduation has been changed to a week later.

I don’t know if he called the principal yet and raised holy hell, but what are they thinking? They had already solidified a date. Students have ordered their graduation invitations. Geographically distant family members have made travel plans.

Of course we buy the cheapest air fares we can find, which means they’re non-refundable, and there’s a hefty surcharge to make any changes. So frustrating!

These people, this school, is in Kentucky. Not the most economically advantaged place on the planet. When I was preparing for my own graduation, those fancy invitations were no small expense for my family to accommodate. It must be similarly challenging, financially, for those students and their families now.

All because of poor planning. (Okay, so I’m a control freak. Planning is an essential part of my universe.) Even so, this seems fit to stretch the limits of even normal non-control-freak people. Doesn’t it?

*I now understand why my grandmother needed Valium when we came to visit.