By the beard of Zeus. What. A. Week.
Monday morning Michael gets home around 7:30 after working his 6th night shift in a row. We are scheduled to have new windows installed in our house at 8:30. They show up at 8. While I'm still in bed. The doorbell rings and I roll out of bed and waddle around trying to find clothes as fast as possible while I hear Michael talking to the window crew. I'm still in my nightgown, hair fuzzed out, no glasses, when Michael knocks on the door asking if I'm ready for the guy to come in our bedroom to do final measurements on our windows. I end up with something like a green shirt, black pants, and pink socks on while a kind middle aged man busts into my bedroom with measuring tape and a judgemental look because my kid and I are still asleep. Little does he know that my kid didn't fall asleep until midnight the night before! Morgan was so exhausted she slept through them coming into her room to measure the window, slept through them pounding out the windows and drilling in the rooms around her, slept through Michael chasing down the cats to shove into the basement for the day (so they wouldn't escape out the new holes in our house)...which is all extremely irritating because sometimes all I have to do is walk past her bedroom at night and I hear 'mooommmyyyyy...' because I somehow woke her up with my presence in the hallway.
So Monday I spent the day listening to Michael snore on and off on the couch because he was exhausted....apparently he's not superhuman and can't work 12 hours overnight and then stay up the next day? I felt sorry for him...until I realized he was the one that scheduled that day for windows. The cats meowed and scratched at the door all day. Michael had to put a baby gate on the stairs, tilted so that they couldn't jump over it, in order to keep them from digging a hole through the basement door. Every 5 seconds we were dragging Morgan away from the workers. Shattered glass and toddlers don't go well together. Then it started to rain. I felt so sorry for the workers. And with gaping holes in my house it was almost cold enough to dig out my ski clothes. I ended up leaving with Morgan to go run some errands...and at the first stop I couldn't see past my pregnant belly or the boxes I was carrying into the post office and stepped in a puddle, soaking my feet.
Why can't pregnant women drink vodka?
In the middle of all of this mess I receive a phone call from my doctor telling me that they were reviewing my file and in the ultrasounds they had done 2 weeks previously, they are seeing a cyst on the baby's brain.
What?!!
She was like '99.9% of the time it goes away on it's own but we want you to go back to the specialist in Pittsburgh for a level 2 ultrasound just to make sure everything is okay.'
Awesome.
That woke Michael up and he did some research online for more information and found out it's fairly common, but that sometimes it can be an indication of a chromosome disorder and that's why doctors want to do further tests. I had some sort of blood testing done to check to screen for Down's Syndrome and other problems and as far as I know, the results came back normal, because my doctor never said anything otherwise.
Ultrasound was scheduled for Wednesday. As usual, I vented to my family and friends about my latest issues. I honestly have an amazing support group of people in my life. We had so many people praying for us, so many encouraging texts and emails. I love the people in my life. We honestly weren't worried; we both embrace the idea of not worrying until you have a concrete reason to. But there was still that little weight sitting on our chests, anxiety over having even more pregnancy issues, irritation over the fact that doctors over analyze everything nowadays and stir up so much stress and worry during pregnancies. However did our mothers and grandmothers survive without all of these high tech tests?!
So Tuesday....Michael took a 12 hour overtime shift. I wanted to choke him for taking it, but honestly we ALWAYS need the money so I can't really complain over the fact that he loves his job enough to work so much overtime. That's how we save up money to redo bathrooms and replace 43 year old windows. So I just gave him stink eye and kept my mouth shut...sort of. Morgan and I got up at 7:30 and waited for the workers to return to finish the window job. I had to shove the cats back in the basement while our deck door was being replaced. Morgan was like 'oh no! there's a hole in the house mommy!' and I had to drag her away from it every 5 seconds. By noon the weather warmed up and it felt amazing outside. I let the ground dry up a bit in the sunshine before asking Morgan if she wanted to go out and play (like she was going to say no...) and we dragged her tricycle out of storage and within 30 seconds she wiped out and was screaming. I think I remember having a conversation with Michael about her needing a helmet and he was like 'oh she won't need a helmet for a tricycle, they are sturdy' so I sent him a text with this picture:
with the caption 'ummmm she needs a helmet...'
and he texted back 'ummmm is she okay?'
well after I pulled the bike off her and saw that she had minor scratched on her knee and wrists, she kept saying her head hurt, but I didn't feel any knots, and bubbles distracted her from crying so I figured she was okay. Then about an hour later I was brushing her bangs out of her eyes and saw this:
how the heck did I miss that?!!! It's moments like this that make me feel like mom of the year.
No more tricycle until we buy her a helmet.
Wednesday morning we all woke up at 7:30 again (this is killing me and Morgan...) so that I will have time to have my monthly bloodwork done before we go to Pittsburgh. Michael and Morgan drop me off at the Weirton hospital where I am greeted by the ladies that are usually working in the lab and recognize me by now. 5 vials of blood later and I'm back in the car with a Tudor's biscuit (thank you Michael) and we are on our way to Pittsburgh.
Pittsburgh is a beautiful city. It takes a little less than an hour to get there from our house, depending on traffic. I love how you drive down the interstate and see nothing but a tunnel, and as soon as you pop out the other side of the tunnel, BAM there's a city! Morgan loves it. She's a city baby; so much to see and do.
The ultrasound went really well. She confirmed it is indeed a boy (within about 6 seconds of placing the wand on my abdomen, baby boy was like 'hey...look at my junk ya'll!'). She did a very thorough ultrasound...checking his kidneys, measuring arms and legs. And best of all, she found NO cysts on his brain! They are already gone! And no indicators that he is anything other than a perfect baby.
I would have enjoyed all of this information so much more if the combination of having 5 vials of blood, being exhausted, and laying on my back while being poked with an ultrasound wand wasn't making me extremely nauseated. I stared at the ceiling trying to fight through it, but when I broke out in a cold sweat and got dizzy I decided to say something about it. Next thing I know, I'm on my side with a wet cloth on my head and Michael is wiping the ultrasound goop off my belly while Morgan is trying to figure out how to get on the table to have her stomach examined.
A doctor came in and confirmed everything...no cysts, and everything looks normal.
Leaving Pittsburgh, Michael and I were so lighthearted and happy. A huge weight has been lifted off our chests. It's wonderful to know that baby boy is fine. I have about 16 more weeks to keep him safe and healthy until his big debut into this world.
To celebrate we took Morgan shoe shopping (the kid LOVES shoes, and her feet are growing so fast) and went to Jared to have all of our wedding rings cleaned (way overdue...some of the diamonds were loose in my engagement ring and I had to leave it there for a couple of hours to have it serviced). When we left, Morgan was so upset, she cried... 'my diamond store!!!' She loves sparkly things....like most women do.
We slept in today and it was glorious. Morgan woke up around 7 and I climbed in bed with her so she would go back to sleep. I woke up to her drawing shapes on my nose...'circle...rectangle...octagon....oval....GOT YOUR NOSE!' then stepped in a damp spot on the carpet where one of the cats regurgitated some water (soaking my socks and making me say some words that Morgan shouldn't repeat) then had to clean up the cup of milk that Morgan spilled down herself onto the floor.
And those are the latest adventures in Mommyland.
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