The High Tech Way

Waiting for GODOT (G-Damned OBsurgery scheduler To call)

Here's another difference between my old and new OB practices.   At the old place, the answering machine you got when you called promised a return call THAT DAY unless you called after 3 or 4 pm. 

Today I called the new practice because I'd missed the call from the surgery scheduler who'd called to schedule my c-section.  The answering machine said I could expect a call back in 3 to 4 business days!  If we keep playing phone tag like this it will be long past my due date when we actually are able to schedule anything. I will have to take out my Swiss Army Knife and do my own freaking c-section. Not to mention, the person who called to schedule the procedure talked so fast I had to replay the message at least a half a dozen times to get all the info. 

She offered me times with two different docs during the rapid fire voice mail message she left on my cell phone.  The first one is with a doctor who I have not yet met. The second is with one who was my least favorite of the ones I met so far.  Makes me want to go back to California for the delivery.

The due date is July 26. I've been offered that date and the day after.  David would prefer either the beginning or end of the week, but the 27th (a Friday) is with the doc who was my least favorite, and because it's a Friday I wouldn't get to see the lactation consultant for three days.  So I asked about times on the following Monday. 

Also, my mother-in-law suggested it might be nice for it to be on July 25 since that was Heidi's birth date.  I am similarly inclined to go with a sentimental date like that, but that falls on a Wednesday, far from David's preference of the beginning or end of the week.  (amazing how much thought you can put into stuff that won't matter a bit in a year's time...)

Personally, I'm hoping for a natural labor that results in a July 25 birth.  But my preferences are often overlooked by the Universe when it comes to issues of fertility, birth, death, and lost baggage.  So that means it's time to focus on having the grace to give up control.   

Continental Airlines screwed me

The claim I filed for my luggage that CONTINENTAL AIRLINES  lost totaled over $4,000.  The maximum payout they do is around $1,300. 

They sent me a check that totaled $285.  This does not even cover the money I have to pay to the baby doppler company to replace the rented unit that was lost in the luggage.  Not only did they lose a lifetime worth of my memories.  Then they bent me over and made me pay extra for the privilege. Fuckers.

The OB rotation and my first Braxton Hicks ever

At the OB practice I've been going to since the move, I haven't seen the same doctor twice. There are eight of them and they say the goal is for you to meet each doc before you deliver so that you are familiar with everyone and won't be delivered by someone you haven't met yet.

This is disconcerting coming from a practice where the doc who I saw every time told me she delivered nearly all of her patients. 

Nonetheless, we trudge along.  And at my appointment on Friday I told the doc that I thought I'd been having Braxton Hicks contractions since the day after my last appointment. I described them and she confirmed that indeed, that's what they were.

This is a new experience for me. I never felt any contractions, ever.  Even with the attempted induction last time around.  It makes me wonder if perhaps I might go onto labor on my own this time.  Honestly, if labor snuck up on me slowly like it does for so many I think the idea of it would be less scary to me.  Last time around waiting for the cervidyl to kick in overnight and listening to the women up and down the maternity wing screaming in pain, I was not very excited about the prospect of going forward with labor.  Neigh, I was ready to forget about this whole pregnancy thing -- I take it all back -- and go home.

My current OB practice does not want me to go over 40 weeks, and prefers not to induce me at that time.  Both these things are A-OK with me.

So at this last appointment we agreed to schedule a C-Section for around 40 weeks, with the option of doing a VBAC if things started happening on their own before then.   I'm kind of excited about that option this time around.

And with the Braxton Hicks this time but not last time it makes me wonder if my chances are better of going into labor.  I also seem to be healthier this time around. 

Last time at this point my feet looked like ham with toes, my hands were completely numb (and I could feel they were swollen when I opened and closed them) and I'd had nary a hint of any contractions.  I was paranoid about my lack of speed and agility. I felt so vulnerable and paranoid. So I didn't really exercise at all.  My ribs hurt.

This time not so much.  I have a hint of Fred Flinstone feet and I switched to a substitute wedding ring, but the swelling is not even close to what it was last time.  My blood pressure, up til the last appt has been on the low side of normal for me.  This last appt it was on the slightly high side of normal for me. I've been getting more exercise. I've been more active, less paranoid.  My ribs don't hurt, yet.  And there are those Braxton Hicks.  So maybe maybe I will have the chance to go with a VBAC.

And, incidentally, if that works out I get six weeks of disability leave at 50 percent pay, compared to the eight weeks I would get with a repeat c-section.  That is not a trivial thing.  But working from home makes going back to work early a little easier. Maybe.

I love NY

(written late afternoon/early evening, Thurs., May 24)

When I was looking around for a new job last summer and fall one of the things I told people was that I was looking for a job where I could telecommute from the Philadelphia area most of the time and then maybe go into an office in New York City once every week or two, or an office in Boston once every quarter or so.

This seemed like a brazen thing to ask for at the time. And maybe that is a self confidence issue. Like, why should I rank that kind of special treatment (although I am in a career where many people do just that, especially people with my level of experience.)  So even though it felt sort of brazen I figured I might was well ask for what I wanted because otherwise I'd never get it.

And it didn't seem to be a problem.  No one blinked an eye at the request. So I got a job where I telecommuted, first from Silicon Valley to San Francisco and then I got to take the job with me when I moved across the country.  Then I telecommuted from our new home outside of Philadelphia to the company headquarters in NYC.

I kept planning to go up to the NYC headquarters but between recovering from the move, and then going on a bunch of subsequent business trips I never made it up there. Until today.

I woke up at 5:30 am, still dreaming about last night's season finale of LOST. (In my dream I was giving Ben a bunch of my business cards and telling him about some Marines I knew, even though I know no Marines in real life.)

I drove to the train station in Trenton, N.J.  It took about 40 minutes, and I think in the future I will give myself an hour between the time I leave the house and the time of the train I want to take to allow for ample time to park and buy tickets.

Due to some electrical problems on Amtrack, my NJ Transit train was delayed, but I still got to the NY office by 10 am. The train took about an hour and a half.

And wow, it was fun to be in an actual office with actual colleagues again. It was nice to meet all the people I've been working with since December. It was lovely to work in a work space and then go out to lunch with colleagues.  I also got all the HR paperwork for my upcoming disability leave.

The train ride from Trenton to NY, although delayed, was pleasant.  The last time I took the train to NY was in December 2004, and it is still very strange to me to see the skyline with just the Empire State Building and no twin towers as the train approaches the city. There is a hole there. I guess you get used to that.

I took a cab from Penn Station to my company's offices this morning, mostly because I didn't want to end up going in the wrong direction for a block before I realized my mistake.  A block seems like an awfully long way to me right now.  But I did walk back to the station at the end of the day, and am writing this aboard the 5:30 NJ Transit train from NY to Trenton. 

Today was very much an experiment to try out all these different modes of transportation, to figure out my way, to figure out where to park, which way to walk in Manhattan, what it all costs, etc.

But I can definitely see doing this on a regular basis, if other travel doesn't interfere with it. I really love NY, even though I have not spent a lot of time there.

And I do believe it is true that it is beneficial to show your face at the office on a regular basis.

I've had two previous jobs where I telecommuted.  One where I telecommuted all the time and another where I telecommuted as much as I could. So I am talking from experience when I mention the political importance of some face time at the office. It goes a long long way. 

Breaking news

I passed my 3-hour gestational diabetes test.  The celebration included a Reeses Peanut Butter Cup.  Also, in spite of symptoms that defy the results, I am not anemic.

My time management problem

Back in the late 90s I flew from San Jose, California to New York City to attend a trade show for work.  My flight was in the evening and my boss had scheduled my annual performance review for 6 am the morning after the night I arrived at his hotel room.

Can I tell you, I was late for this.  I mean, the freaking performance review was scheduled at a time of day when it was most likely for me to fail -- at 3 am by my body clock -- due to the 3 hour time difference between the east and west coast that I'd not been given any time at all to acclimate to.

My boss was annoyed that I was late for this meeting and told me during my review that I had a time management problem.  This was the most negative thing that anyone had ever said to me during a performance review, and thus it has stuck with me for the last 10 years.   My boss pointed out that my colleague and dear friend, who held the same position, had time to take cigarette breaks during the day.  (Of course this sent my 3 month cigarette quit straight to hell).

(This is the same boss who would walk by my office and not say anything, just snap his fingers, to summon me to a meeting.) This boss is long gone from my life, BTW.

But being labeled this way had the effect of perpetuating this so-called problem I had. For example, my boss sent me to a time management seminar. I was an hour late to this one.   (My cat, who needed antibiotics twice a day after a tooth extraction, didn't want them and hid under the bed for a half an hour.  And then I was so late that I didn't take the time to look up the proper directions to the location of the seminar. Sigh.  I was a big joke when I arrived so late for the freaking thing.)

Another encounter with this boss:  I told him that I needed more time to complete a specific task so could he please move the Tuesday meeting to a half hour later?  (I had double the work my colleagues had in regard to this particular task.)  He, of course, thought I was blowing smoke.  That is until one day when I had an out of office meeting and he had to fill in for me, completing the task on my behalf.  That very day he permanently changed the meeting to a half hour later so there would be enough time for me to finish.   The only thing that worked on him was letting him experience the challenge himself, because he didn't ever listen to what I had to say. But I digress.

So whenever I think about something I'm feeling guilty about, even today, I have a tendency to attribute it to my so-called time management problem.  For example, catching up on everyone's blogs that I've fallen behind on as I did three business trips in the last two weeks.  I feel terrible about it and feel as if it is a personal failing, rather than giving myself a break because I have been working at such a crazy pace since the beginning of the month.

Anyway, in case you haven't heard back from me on emails or your most excellent blog posts, in case you get an email response two weeks after you sent an email to me, please forgive me.  It is my chronic time management problem rearing its ugly head again.

Daycare costs vs. kitchen costs

Last weekend we closed (i.e. paid a lot of money) on the kitchen cabinets and countertop at Lowes. It took about two hours to make the changes we wanted and finish the deal. During this time we learned that our sales guy there had four kids: an 8 year-old girl who was from an IUI, 4 year-old boy twins from an IVF, and another 4 year-old boy born less than a year later who was a surprise and from a "natural" pregnancy.

Our guy Mike said that they spent $19K last year on daycare, which is more than we paid for the countertop and cabinets last weekend.

Mike had his own kitchen business for 18 years but said he got tired of chasing people for money. So he decided to give working for Lowes a shot. His wife works at a local university. I'm not sure what kind of work she does. 

Point of this? It's always amazing when I just encounter other people who have gone through this stuff. Much of the time in the real world I feel like a total minority in the infertility game, except for my friends online.  But apparently we are everywhere. I wonder how many other people I've encountered who have been through it and who I will never know about.

Gestational diabetes tests, traveling again and how the tv networks are out to get me

(wrote this on Thursday night, May 17)

On April 30 I took my one hour gestational diabetes test.  On May 3 I found out I failed this test. The acceptable range is below 140 and I got 147.  This seemed familiar to me. I think last time while pregnant with Jack I failed with 143 or 147 or something close to that.

The one hour test is pretty simple. You go to the lab, drink the horrible sugar drink and an hour later get your blood drawn.

If you fail the one hour test you have to take what they call the "three hour" test.  This test sucks much more.  You go to the lab and get your fasting blood drawn.  Then you drink a more horrible more sugary drink.  Then you get your blood drawn three more times, once an hour for three hours. 

I took this test on Monday, May 14. I would have expected to get the results of this test back today, but I have been in the Boston area all day at a conference. I woke up at 4 am to do the day trip here -- got a 6:30 am flight. And now it's nearly 8 pm and I'm stuck here awaiting my delayed flight back home.  For a while after I arrived here this morning at 7:44 am I was asking myself over and over "what am I doing here?" 

It would be good if this were indeed my last trip until after I come back from maternity leave. This is getting too hard. Besides, I finished both that Tipping Point book and that Blink book. I am still feeling overwhelmed by the prospect of dipping into a novel.

I am thinking about calling in LATE tomorrow.

In the last two weeks I have been to Salt Lake City, Miami and now Boston.  I was a little nervous about going to Miami.  David likes to watch COPS! and so many episodes take place in Broward County.  Also, there is CSI Miami.  It just seems to be a good place to go if you want to get murdered in an overly dramatic way.

And speaking of TV, I am very annoyed at the networks this year.  First they put on a new series called The Nine about nine people who had witnessed a bank robbery/hostage standoff and their secrets about what happened during the event are revealed during the course of the season.  Or they would have been.  They showed just enough episodes for me to get into it and then they freaking canceled it.  Very very annoying. 

Then they started another new series, Daybreak.  This was like 24 meets Groundhog day.  And it was actually really really good.  The extremely handsome and sexy cop is framed for murder and tries to figure out what the hell is going on.  But each day he wakes up and it's the same day.  But he can use what he learned during the previous day (which was the same day) to learn more during this new same day.  But THEY CANCELED IT!  They are streaming episodes online, but you can't download them.  You have to watch them on your PC.  Very very annoying.

And then they premiered a new show called Drive about a secret car race around the country with life and death stakes.  And I said to David, "they'd better not fuck with me again on this one."  It only took them two or three episodes to cancel this one, which is better I think, because I didn't get THAT into it.

Luggage heaven

Lately I have been traveling a lot for my job. Part of me thinks that it is probably easier to do it now than it will be in six months when I will (hopefully) have a very young baby.

Returning from Salt Lake City a few weeks ago I was waiting for my luggage to emerge from the mysterious luggage door and descend onto the carousel, and I had a brief fantasy.  I imagined that instead of the luggage that I had packed that morning, instead a different bag would appear -- the green wheel behind that was lost on March 2 when I moved to here from California. The bag that disappeared without a trace never to be heard from again. The one that contained all my valuable and sentimental jewelry, mostly given to me by someone who loved me at a life milestone -- my high school ring, a gold bracelet with my name on it given to me on my wedding day, pearl earrings my mother gave me on my wedding day, and other jewelry left to me by people who I loved who have died like my grandmother, my great aunt and my sister-in-law.

It was a sweet fantasy that lasted a moment and was gone, much like the bag.

On Monday David called the airline (Continental) to find out the status of my lost luggage claim.  They searched the warehouse and did not find it.  It seemed the lady who David talked to was thinking that someone picked up my bag by accident and decided they liked what was inside so much that they would keep it.  This is what I thought all along, but just try to get someone to listen to you.  Kind of like talking to some doctors.  They already know it all and there's nothing your hysterical self can do to change their mind about anything.

Tomorrow I am headed to Boston for a day trip. I cannot believe I am going to Boston for a day trip when I am now 7 months pregnant.  I will awake at 4 am so I will be onetime for my 6:30 flight.  After a day at a conference in Boston I will fly back here, arriving at 9 pm. Then I will get in my car and drive back home.  I hope that this is the last trip for a while.

But he loves mommy's new garden clogs