HAPPY BIRTHDAY, VANESSA!

Well the new family has just arrived home a couple hours ago. Here are some photos of the past few days. They have been the best days of our life. Oops - there I go bawling again. Merry Christmas to all - meet our miracle baby, Vanessa Holland Hoyt...

At my OB appointment last Friday, I was still carrying high and my OB was concerned the mesh in my abdominal wall might never allow Vanessa to drop or be born. To boot, my BP was 140/100 which signalled the preeclampsia we have been watching out for. So he made the executive decision to deliver VH1 himself that afternoon, rather than risk my having to come in and deliver over the Christmas weekend with a skeleton holiday staff who didn't know my case. We high fived him, stopped briefly at the front desk to make a follow up appointment, and as soon as we stepped out the office door I burst into tears and hung my arms around Jack's neck. Birth Day was finally here, after so many years! We had two hours to get home and get back to the hospital. Jack and Grandma Patty had time to get sandwiches. Granny Ernestine jumped in her car and drove 80 mph to get to the hospital before surgery.

She was born Friday 12/22/06 at 3:14 pm by c-section, weighing in at a lean 7 lbs. 3 oz. and 20.75 inches long. She has reddish brown hair, deep blue eyes, and the longest fingers you've ever seen. Well, she also has the longest monkey toes you've ever seen - should be a fantastic tree climber. Little Miss Vanessa has black eyelashes, a dimple in her left cheek, and generally looks like her daddy! She cries when she needs to communicate something, is soothed quickly, loves to be held, sleeps through constant din or loud noises, has a voracious appetite, and she belches like a frat boy. When she's not wrapped up like a burrito she tries to direct traffic or conduct an orchestra with her waving arms and legs - even in her sleep. She also happens to make noises exactly like Cindy Lu Who.

Both grandmothers were at the hospital for the birth, clearly the Baby Swamis. Vanessa needed to go to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit due to hypovolumia (loss of blood at birth). She needed oxygen and IV fluids and close monitoring. Her APGAR scores were 4 and 8. By the time we got to see her in the NICU, she was laying back under the heat lamps, all tubes and monitors, showing off how she bounced back so quickly on just fluids, with no need for a blood transfusion. We knew, thanks to all we've dragged her through to date, we never needed to worry about her, so we didn't: not even for a minute. Our first introduction to her in the NICU, she was zoned out on her back, soles together, fingers in Guyan Mudra (knowledge and ability; receptivity and calm).

Mom had a few complications during surgery, too, but came out pretty well. Most impressively, I lost 1700 cc's of blood - nearly 2 liters - which floored the staff. While I recovered on Vanessa's birthday, Daddio took over and held her skin-to-skin in the NICU from 10 pm to 1 am. The nurses said he was "blissed out," and surely Vanessa got the very best start she needed from her best guy.

We were so excited to see Nestle without her oxygen, monitor wires and IV. She was released from the NICU to us yesterday, although Mom needed more time in the hospital on clear fluids. I probably should have stayed five days, but we convinced them to spring me today, for a Christmas homecoming. When I went to the NICU to get her, she was sleeping, so I sat down and began weeping uncontrollably - for about an hour. Then today, as we were signing the discharge papers for her, it hit me again that, after five years of holding our breath, we were going home with our wee miracle.

We've been working hard as a team - Nessa, me and Daddy - trying to get my milk to come in. We are silly with sleep deprivation, but that little daughter of ours is a latching champeen.

All the staff who cared for us at the hospital fell in love with her and sought us out to congratulate us on our Miracle story. That is truly humbling. We know we are part of a huge family project. This is truly a gift from God to all of us. What a miracle a little baby is.

Jack and I wore our santa hats today at the hospital. The staff gave Nessa a matching knit cap so we could come home as a family. Too bad I was crying so hard as we left, otherwise we may have had a Kodak moment. Instead, I'll show you the person who has changed our life. This is the person who we were trying to conceive when I was diagnosed, and the person I hoped for and tried to live for the past five years. Our little light of hope in flesh and blood.

Guest Post:

In all the talk about Vanessa, no one has mentioned her birthday. It is December 22. Happy Birthday!

For a bigger version of the picture, click here.

I AM FORT KNOX

Well, I'm still pregnant.

I'm in my 38th week now, so this is considered full term. My goodness! We thought this was an impossibility not too long ago. You should see my OB's face light up when he sees me still pregnant and the baby behaving with such obvious good health.

I'm going in twice a week right now, because there are two issues to follow. One is that I'm flirting with preeclampsia, which is a systemic inflammatory response that can harm the baby. In this day and age no one dies of preeclampsia, but if left unchecked, it could be fatal to baby and mother. The cure for preeclampsia is immediate delivery. So far, my blood work looks fine and my BP and proteinuria are holding steady, so no preeclampsia for me.

The second issue is that Vanessa has not dropped. I'm carrying at 40 cm which means I constantly feel sick and she does not have her head down into the birth canal. My OB is concerned that she cannot get her head into position because of the mesh stitched tightly to my abdominal wall. If she can't get her head into the birth canal we have concluded she won't be getting anything else through there, either. My OB is discussing an elective c-section more and more with us. Of course we'd be fine with that plan.

Jack keeps prepping me for my appointments by saying, "Be sure to tell him how uncomfortable and sick you have been. We don't want this going on much longer." It's true: I have made something as natural and wonderful as pregnancy seem like one of the worst diseases known to woman. But when I arrive at the OB clinic I get so jolly and excited I can't contain myself. I keep grabbing my belly and shouting, "HO! HO! HO!" at the front desk staff. They are amused.

Grandma has arrived from Vermont, Granny is soon to follow, and the house is decorated and ready for Christmas. (See Chica disguised as a Christmas ornament.) Now we just need our wee miracle baby!

WHERE IS THIS DAUGHTER?

Yesterday I saw my OB for a check-up and, thinking I may have been progressing towards labor all week last week, I was disappointed to learn that nothing had changed. In fact, I continue to carry very high, prompting my OB to have a grown up conversation with me about possibly needing to schedule a c-section. He can't tell if my abdominal mesh will ever allow the baby to drop. Then, after reviewing my vital statistics and symptoms, he sent me across the street to the hospital for blood work, to see if I have preeclampsia. The cure for preeclampsia is delivering the baby, but my labs came back "normal," so I'm still here, still pregnant.

I find that I am increasingly ready to be done with this amazing and eventful pregnancy.

Last week I purchased a new pair of shoes so I won't have to wear Jack's slippers around town. My new shoes are size 11, a size that many of the shoe stores I visited don't even carry. I love these new shoes, but my feet do still ooze over the sides, thanks to world class edema.

Because we noticed a few changes to my body last week, Jack and I hustled around and got all the basics done around the house. Now we feel relatively ready to hop in the car and rush to the hospital if Nestle decides to make her debut. Here is a shot that Daddio feels is some of his best (and sneakiest) work ever. The other belly shots we took this week are too awful for me to post. In fact, after reviewing the back of our digital camera during one downtown photo shoot, I said, "Okay. Let's get in the car, drive to a bridge, and I'll just jump off." I mean, I look terrible. Jack insists I'm crazy for thinking that, but he's clearly biased and cannot be trusted. I will admit, however, that my horizontal protrusion is impressive. Looking at me from the front, I don't look very pregnant, but from the side... HELLO.

I'm beginning to think this daughter will arrive in June. Surely she'll be delivered in the psych unit if that's the case.

MY FIFTH YEAR DIAGNOSIS ANNIVERSARY

Well, aside from being Pearl Harbor Day and my baby niece Corey's 19th birthday, today is the fifth year anniversary of my cancer diagnosis. Usually I try to celebrate the date in some small way, since I believe Dr. Letterie saved my life by discovering cancer. You may recall that Jack and I had been trying unsuccessfully to conceive, and that is what ultimately led me to be diagnosed.

On my one year anniversary, I had a giant surgery with Dr. Sinanan - you know, the one where he snipped out my rectus abdominus muscle - thanks to quick thinking by brother Jim. If it weren't for that surgery, I probably would not be sitting at the computer typing a blog entry right now. In fact, that was about the time I started planning my own funeral. The following year I had a second cancer recurrence and was deep in chemo one again. Making the five year anniversary seemed a daunting challenge and there were many times I envisioned throwing a giant party if I ever made it.

It's been over two years since my last chemo and over three since my last surgery. I so prefer to be pregnant! Many a foxhole prayer went up, but not for a cure or a long life. Instead I prayed I'd live long enough to know what it is to be a mom. My prayers, and the millions of prayers many of you said on my behalf, were answered with an emphatic YES! As sister Anne says, "We don't know why God wants us to pray for others, but we know he does want that." So thank you to all the prayer warriors who joined in or led this community baby project.

Last night Vanessa wriggled and twisted all night long. Since I'm missing an abdominal muscle, I can feel her every move on that side. Today I found myself bawling my eyes out on the highway, thanks to two songs on the radio that I thought would be funny to play during my labor. One was Anything You Want You Got It by Roy Orbison and the other was Twist and Shout by the Beatles. Both have the word "baby" in the lyrics, so of course I was a sobbing mess, with mascara running down my face in true Tammy Faye Baker fashion.

This year, to celebrate, Jack and I talked it over and we did not feel a giant party was in order. How about a fat baby girl instead? Such a celebratory slam dunk, don't you think? Nessa won't be born today - I feel too normal - but I imagine she'll debut this month. Thank you God for our miracle child!

DECEMBER ALREADY?

My, time flies when you have been white-knuckling it to October 15th, doesn't it? Jack and I feel our baby is way overdue right now! I finally ordered that crib mattress today, so little Nessa Van Hoyt will have something to sleep on when she arrives. Phew!

This week we had another birthing class. The topic was labor and pushing, and our instructor gave us many ideas on positions to get into for breathing, pain relief, and/or actual pushing. Coach Hoyt perked right up, since most of the positions looked like calisthenics. In fact, one of the positions was called The Squat - Jack's new favorite lift. I could smell Daddio's competitive juices flowing, as he equated Exercise with Daughter and surely began thinking birthing coach has been his true calling all these many years.

In our class we noticed most of the other mothers look a lot larger than I do. Some are even due weeks after me. We've decided that Vanessa has stretched her 87th percentile self out vertically along my 5' 9" frame. We already know she's making full use of my torso! Of course my 40" barrel chest, broad shoulders, and thunderous thighs surely make my belly look relatively modest. As I was getting undressed the other day Jack said, "You still look like a swimmer from behind, Wife." Ha! Such a sweet liar! Even so, I must say my inner Demi Moore has been urging me to snap a photo or two in my underwear. The pregnant body is so beautiful (minus the potato ankles). I promise to not post any of these photos, so don't be shy about checking the blog again in the future.

34 WEEKS DOWN!

Today I've completed 34 weeks and 38 weeks is technically "full term." We found out last week that Vanessa is measuring large. Today my OB said my fundus is measuring at 37 cm - the average for 40 weeks is 38 cm. The jury is still out on when the delivery will be. Any guesses?

I've been feeling a wee bit nostalgic about pregnancy this week. We've hoped and dreamed about getting pregnant for so many years, now I can feel this baby girl kicking and twirling inside. Once I deliver, this experience will end forever. Poof! But Daddio has a different perspective. He says, as he tries to massage the potatoes out of my ankles each night, "This pregnancy has gone on long enough. I'm ready for her to be born NOW."

Last night noticed two large, gaping wounds on our blue-eyed son Max's chest. We think he had two puncture wounds from fighting that became abcessed. Luckily, it looks like they have drained and Max is keeping them very clean. But he was so distressed by our examination, he hissed at us for ten minutes, then bolted. We woke up at 4 am to a chorus of coyote howls and wondered if our Whitey had been nabbed, but we were able to locate him this morning. Phew! We are definitely feeling the pangs of parenthood...

This weekend we were graced with the presence of Sandi and Jim! Along with Sarah, we spent Saturday wine tasting (I sniffed and chauffeured), and spent Sunday watching the 49ers, eating barbeque, playing ball at the beach, and checking out the migrating monarch butterflies at Pismo. We ended the day watching Sideways for the scenery. The next time we see them (and everyone else) we'll have a baby in our arms. Isn't that mind boggling?

I want to give a warm shout out to all the people who are reading and either cannot post a comment for technical reasons, or feel too shy to comment for all to see. We certainly love comments, but don't expect them.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

This has been a tremendously busy week for us. Maribeth, Allan and Duncan arrived last weekend during their Thanksgiving tour of California. We had a wonderful time, especially Duncan, who bonded with our puppy dog, kitties and birdie as only a toddler can. See (?) Chica sing to Duncan, and Milo show him what to do with bath water. We were very active showing them the town and the local flora, fauna, and fare. It was a treat to have an exuberant, adorable two year old visiting - made us anxious to meet our own baby girl.

While they visited, Sarah also arrived from Seattle for the week. There was some overlap, making us feel like the "family" was home for the holidays. Mostly, all were amazed at my girth and the general circumference of my ankles and lower legs. All the physical activity helped grow my legs before our eyes. Of course the tourist diet of full-fat pastries, brownie sundaes, queso-laden Mexicano food, and deep fried fish and chips may have also played a part. Luckily, I've enjoyed more energy this week than I've had at any other point in my pregnancy.

Sarah, Jack, Vanessa and I were invited to spend Thanksgiving with cousins David, Theresa, Jenny, Winston, and Aunt Betty and Uncle Wally. Theresa was a one-woman show, making a magnificent feast for us all. We had a delightful time and reviewed some old family photos, including vintage ones of the Chapman sisters. Daddio showed off the 4-D photo of Vanessa we got from our perinatology appointment last Monday, and we all speculated on just where she acquired those fabulous pursed lips.

Speaking of the peri appointment, we learned that, at the end of 34 weeks, I have grown a butterball daughter. Expected baby size at this point is 4 lbs. 11 oz. and Vanessa is measuring in at 5 lbs. 7 oz., putting her in the 87th percentile for weight. Grow, baby, grow! Auntie Anne claims Nessa is a chip off the old block, considering I entered the world at 10 lbs. 6 oz. and my poor, skinny mother did not have gestational diabetes. My mother was delighted to show me this article, entitled, Why Human Babies are Fattest and Smartest:

http://www.webmd.com/content/article/82/97306.htm?z=1728_00000_1000_nb_04

Today we did some hiking at Pirate's Cove, where we crept up the side of a cliff overlooking the ocean and I swang my belly over all manner of rock formations. At one point Daddio had to hoist me up onto a rock near a sizeable drop-off. Thank goodness he's been pumping iron and can squat sets of 275! That led me to believe he could be trusted to maneuver Vanessa and me to safety without sustaining cardiac arrest. Other than that assist, I impressed both Sarah and Daddio with my cat-like agility, despite my massive form. Pirate's Cove proved to be a wonderful site for a photo shoot. Here is one of the best, taken by our own personal Art Director, Sarah.

Two friends have informed us that the nickname Nessa may have some Hebrew connotations. "Ness" means miracle in Hebrew and the suffix "ah" feminizes a word, so Nessah/Nessa may be interpreted as "female miracle." Furthermore, if she is born during Chanukkah, she will be born during the festival of miracles. Fitting, don't you think?

OB APPOINTMENT TODAY

Today I saw my OB for my two week follow up. He said my fundus is measuring big - perhaps due to my abdomen's inability to stretch down low - and I have lost weight since the last appointment. I am carrying very high and continue to be nauseous, so maybe Vanessa is pushing on my stomach like a lap band. My OB did officially restrict my travel: Because I am still high risk he doesn't want me to go into labor in a remote location.

This weekend Daddio was my worker bee. What a good man! I made him paint over a perfectly good room in an attempt to make it a nursery. The worst part is, the first color I chose was wrong. Really wrong. The second color was better but not right. I wanted a soft aqua color and I got robin's egg blue. Daddio, surely unwilling to be a slave to my idea of perfection any further, insisted that putting a baby girl into a blue bedroom would create character. "She'll refer back to it in her presidential inaugeration speech," were his exact words. When I was a girl I painted my room pink with white trim as soon as I was given a choice, and would have sold my soul for a white canopy bed. I thought I was doing well to not assume Vanessa would want a pink room, but I didn't mean to give her a boy blue room. (Photos later.)

Today is the day our baby nephew Barry headed off to boot camp with the U.S. Marine Corps at Parris Island. He's 18 but it does seem like yesterday we were changing his diapers. We are naturally concerned, given world politics, but we are also hopeful he will thrive. Our little red-headed Road Runner nephew Daniel enlisted in the Army and completed basic training in August 2001 - you know, two weeks before September 11th, 2001. His group (troop? company?) was ultimately responsible for capturing Sadam. Daniel was a tank mechanic on the front line, and has been back home for a couple years now - a very young Iraqi War veteran.

WE'RE GETTING EXCITED...

Okay, I don't know about the rest of you, but this certainly feels like it has been the world's longest human gestation. Jack and I were so relieved to make it to the October 15th mark in this pregnancy, that we now feel we are "overdue." I have been awoken from a deep sleep the past few nights in a row with contractions. All I can think is, "Is it Show Time?" I find myself fantazing about the moment we get to hop in the car to speed to the hospital.

Last Friday I picked up an infant car seat. Today the crib arrived via FedEx. Can you believe it? "Buy it, and she will come," right?

Tonight we have our second 3-hour birthing class. Daddio, in all his paternal enthusiasm, was the first to sign up to provide class snacks. He keeps reminding me that we are "the best" in the class. I have no idea what he means, but he's into it.

Vanessa, by the way, is squirmy. Jack can see her moving around now. I am mesmerized, of course. I do find myself marvelling that I get to experience pregnancy. Five times, on the eve of five surgeries, I almost had a hysterectomy. So it truly is amazing this wiggly alien is occupying my interior.

I feel massive, but we won't find out how big Vanessa really is until the week of Thanksgiving. Jack's observation last night was, "Wife, you're growing horizontal now." And today after a clammy hug it was, "You are a hot water bottle!" Monday and Tuesday the temperature here was close to 90. Imagine cat, dog, and expectant mama draped motionless about the house, breathing shallowly. Thankfully it's back to the low 70s today.

I rarely look presentable, and when I do, Jack is nowhere around. So that's why I have no good photo of my pregnant form to post. Even so, I did attempt a self portrait. Until I get a better shot, here it is. (And no, the purple glow is not gas.)

AUTUMN IS HERE

Jack is noticeably more relaxed and a little lighter of mood, now that we are through October. Never have two people been more excited to get through a summer, I think. For those keeping track at home, I'm starting my 31st week and am in my third trimester.

My energy continues to be low, thanks to anemia, but I sure do feel my liberty as I sit behind the wheel. In fact, I could drive for hours: it's great to get out off the couch, out of the house, and have the wind in my newly shagged hair. Of course I treat Nessa to my most heart-felt renditions of whatever is on the radio as I drive.

The past week or two I took my camera with me as I did my errands. Here are some local shots of the Central Coast. See photos of the Tolosa winery, Morro Rock, salt marshes, and Jack and Milo looking for tarantulas along old Route 101 - the Irish Hills are the backdrop.

MISSING THE GRANDMOTHERS

We certainly enjoyed our visits from Patty, Ernie, and Krista! It was a lot of socializing and physical activity for this couch potato, all very good for me. Vanessa loved it too.

We showed them all the eBay baby clothes I had acquired while on bed rest. Krista suggested the collection was woefully scant in Baby Gap pieces and has indicated she knows how to remedy that. Sure! In fact, let it be known to all that we accept any and all hand-me-downs. (Jack surprised me the other day when he gently inquired, "No more eBay clothes?" I had no idea how he looked forward to those tiny packages in the mail!)

Patty, Ernie and Krista, all RNs, were a bit concerned about my pitting ankle edema. Who stole my ankle bones??? Lately I have to try to forcibly hide my pink sausage hands from Jack while we sit together in church. He just wants to play with them, but I'm too self conscious. The good news is I can now stand for the duration of a shower, and I did pass my 3 hour glucose tolerance test, so no gestational diabetes.

Granny Ernie brought us a photo of herself from boarding school days. We think she is about 11 years old. We also have a photo of Grandma Patty, around about age 7. We'd do well to have a daughter like either one of them! We are intensely curious about this daughter inside. We can't wait to meet her - see what she looks like and get to know her personality. My mother gave us some vintage photos of me as a youngster. I do recall my father having to hide these at a certain point, for fear I would burn them. Now that I'm all growed up, I can handle the truth. Let's just say I'm relieved that my husband doesn't freak out over the fact that my nickname was Michelin Mary for the first 3 years of my life. My extended family insists I was packed with personality.

We begin our birthing classes November 1st. We finally ordered a crib online (a white one after all) and now need to get a mattress. I'm on the verge of picking up a Maclaren stroller - the brand preferred by tall parents. Jack will not have much luck getting time off in January, but has much of December off. Our OB intimated that the intense stretching of the end of pregnancy could cause so much pain to my weakened abdominal wall that we'd want to entice Vanessa out early. So we're hoping she'll arrive in December!

GRANDMOTHERS VISIT

My mother arrived on the day I was released from bed rest. For the first day and a half I barely saw her, in fact I called Jack at work to tell him I was lonely, because my mother had already disappeared cooking, cleaning and doing laundry. I just wanted her to sit!

It's been great having her visit, and the first thing I asked her to help me do was go down to the baby boutique to look at cribs. Back in March, when it became real I was to finally try to get pregnant, I felt I was qualified to enter a crib store. I fell in love with a red crib there and have been fantasizing about it ever since. My mother went straight for the same crib and fell in love with it too. I didn't have the strength to stand and admire it, so I parked it on an upholstered glider. As a consequence, I've added the glider to my fantasy, too. Maybe we'll get them while she's here. I've already gotten the bedding (see swatch).

Other action items on my agenda this first week off bed rest were making it to Marshalls, T.J. Maxx, the dump, and a plant nursery. I'm still weak as a kitten, so these were rather ambitious goals. I have had to sit down on the floor more than once while "shopping." Very frustrating. I take my mother's arm as we cross the street and I just know people get the wrong impression. Surely they think, "How nice she's helping her grandmother!" when really I'm the one getting the help. My mother is 6 inches shorter than I am, with a tight white perm and her pink scalp showing through. When we were at the dump, sporting our cropped pants and sandals, she was the one hauling most of the junk out of the car. We got some quizzical looks. At the plant nursery, she was the one insisting she lift the plants into the cart and load them into the car. I felt people were giving me dirty looks, and half expected them to whip out their cell phones to call the elder abuse hotline. I am humbled by my mother's physical prowess. Maybe that's why Jack suggested we use her Irish maiden name as Vanessa's middle name.

Yesterday she helped me get the house ready for more visitors. Jack has been doing an exceptional job keeping the place up while working and cooking all the meals. However, the house needed a woman's cleaning touch. As we went room by room, my mother cleaned circles around me. I nearly had a nervous breakdown. Instead of feeling the satisfaction of accomplishment after completing a small task, I found myself feeling each tiny task was woefully futile against the backdrop of what needed to be done. My mother, ever the optimistic helpful one, poo-pooed my inadequacies, paid me lavish compliments for my puny efforts, and got 95% of the work done herself. I turned my back for a minute and she was sweeping the stairs out front, then the driveway, then both front porches. None of these things were on our To-Do list. "I didn't sweep under the car..." was her comment.

Today Granny Ernestine arrives! She is coming with our niece Krista. We are so excited! I'm glad I can get around and we do plan to go out to dinner tonight at Avila Pier. I got my hair cut and put on earrings and mascara for the occasion. Ernie is bringing a photo of herself from boarding school, so we can speculate some more about Vanessa's ultimate looks.

For entertainment, Vanessa kicks my belly so others can feel her. She's thoughtful that way. To get me to belly laugh (Nessa likes that), we play with our fur babies. Milo is in love with Chica and wants to try to lick her to let her know. Chica is in love with the computer keyboard and wants to peck at its little rubber pieces. Alley is in love with Chica's water dish and can think of nothing else when the bird cage is accessible. Max is, well, in love with no one, but he has been sleeping on our bed every night, so maybe he realizes how much we love him.

MANY POSITIVE NEW DEVELOPMENTS

Well, today has been a big day! I am starting Week 28 and we saw both our new perinatologist and our OB today.

Our brand new peri hails recently from, of all places, Seattle. As it turns out he knows all my many doctors on a first-name basis. This is a nearly miraculous coincindence. But we hope to not get to know him too well as patients, because we got very good news about my little ole placenta. My placenta previa has, as expected, corrected itself over time. More importantly, my eight weeks of bleeding has resulted in the complete dissolution of that large subchorionic hematoma (blood clot). So positive are these two developments that my OB has let me off bed rest. YAHOO! There is a separation between placenta membranes that may put me at increased risk for my water breaking, but that doesn't warrant bed rest apparently.

Of course we also got to spy on our descendant. Although crude, we did get a 4-D face shot of our her, after we observed her practicing her chewing or laughing or perhaps shouting. It was so funny I couldn't help but chuckle along, which must have made her self conscious because then she stopped. I had to comment, "Hey, she doen't have skinny lips!" and Jack said, "I think she's got my chin." As soon as we got home, Jack pulled out his baby book to show me that she looks like him as a newborn. I think she's gorgeous, but then I have to remember we are looking at fuzzy images of a fetus. Mothers are so biased.

She weighs 2 lbs. 8 oz. and our OB said tinier, younger babies are living over in the NICU right now. We are very pleased to be growing her so well so far. Much credit goes to Daddio, who has been feeding me day and night and manning the household chores whilst I peruse eBay on the couch.

Since you've read along this far, we'll let you know now that we've named her Vanessa Holland Hoyt. We mostly call her Nessa, Nessers, and Nestle, although we also call her Van, Van Ho Ho, and VH1. Today we thought we should rework the Van Halen logo to read Van Holland. Perhaps we're getting ahead of ourselves.

FINISHING 26 WEEKS TODAY!

This has been a great week for us all in many ways. School started for Jack so he was very busy, worked seven days this week, and worked past 7 pm four days in a row. This has been a big adjustment for moi, since Jack was home by 4 pm all August and September. Other than feeling excessively disenchanted with the couch and newly addicted to eBay infant clothing auctions, I am doing much better. In fact, I was able to venture to Home Depot last week and ride their motorized shopping cart to select citrus trees for our back yard. That was a big day! Also, today we took Milo to Avila beach and I actually hoofed it all the way down the stairs. While there, we saw a huge school of dolphins and seals batting about large fish like a National Geographic special. I get out about once a week.

September 28th was our 15th wedding anniversary. Jack had a team meeting that night, but he came home to make us dinner. Athletes Danielle and Bridgette stopped by bearing gifts commissioned by Jack - a bouquet of fresh flowers from the farmer's market, some special almonds, and fresh tiramsu. We flipped through our wedding album with them, showed them some wedding video, and opened the day's eBay packages. A welcome evening of socializing for this couch dweller.

In general, things are feeling much less dramatic and scary. I've not had an emergency trip to the hospital in weeks. Jack stopped waking up with a start every time I flip over in bed. The bleeding and barfing is tapering off. My energy is much improved: this week I found I am able to stand the entire time I brush my teeth, and I stood for half my shower today. In fact, Jack and I are taking bets on how soon I'll be upgraded from strict bedrest to limited activity - maybe in two weeks. More importantly, our daughter kicks, kicks, kicks - which I just love. Also, I find myself modeling a range of emotions as I belly laugh so hard I launch epic coughing attacks and find myself bawling at random things like a Billy Idol video, a clutch Seahawk touchdown, and of course those DHC baby delivery shows. I've only very occasionally contemplated throwing myself off the couch, but never gone through with it.

As I type this, Jack is bathing the salt and sand off Milo and singing his own happy lyrics to Strangers in the Night. The sunsets have been spectacular, likely due to the ash in the air from the Ventura fires. I am wearing new clearance maternity togs from Old Navy, recently ordered from my perch here on the couch. I feel so human, after months of sporting Jack's tees and pyjama bottoms. Danielle and Bridgette had to see me lying flat on my back on the floor to appreciate how Jiffy-Pop my belly really is. I measure 44"- 44"- 43" so I'm basically a barrel. When I catch sight of myself in the mirror, sitting hunched over on the edge of our bed every night, I can't help glancing at Jack to say, "Grape Ape. Grape Ape." I really do look funny pregnant.

Last weekend was a big, fun one!

On Friday September 15th we celebrated one full year in California. Jack baked chocolate chip cookies to take into work to mark the occasion. Wow, what a year!

Also on Friday, Maribeth came to visit us from Seattle. Just what the doctor ordered! I had been given clearance to go to the beach a week earlier, but hadn't ventured out, so off we went. I got the whole back seat of the convertible Cadillac on the way, which felt very much like sitting on the couch. Maribeth was surprised at how incredibly wimpy I am. I had to sit down twice walking from the car to the public bathroom and that was only 25 feet. That was the day the temperature got to 98 degrees. Jack assured her I'm lightyears ahead of where I've been, physically. We loved having her entertain us both, and look forward to her return visit in November.

Monday marked the three year anniversary of my last surgery. That is quite a big deal, since I had six abdominal surgeries in less than two years up to that point. To celebrate I took a shower - sitting down, of course. The little gipper has been kicking and punching, and perhaps head-butting me quite often. I love that! Now that I'm protruding, I feel burning pain in two particular regions, which is most likely due to the mesh patch stretching out of its stitches. I'm still barfing and bleeding, but no hospitalizations, and I'm stronger than I've been in months. This is my 25th week of pregnancy. Yahoo!

September is Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month

Our niece Jessica participated in a triathlon in Seattle to benefit the Ovarian Cancer Research Fund today. This niece is also the mother of two tiny sons and works with children when she's not training. Not only that, she's been first in line for four years to host our embryos, since we've never been sure if I could pull it off. She's a model mama!

When we had our ultrasound two weeks ago, the little gipper was measuring 15 oz., which we were told is the 54th percentile. As a Jennings, I must admit that sounds dinky. This week, she should be over a pound and be about 11 inches long. I'm starting to feel her kick, and if I tap on the spot where she's kicking she sometimes kicks back. During one of our ultrasounds the perinatologist remarked that she's an acrobat. Must take after her Daddy!

Also this week, her ovaries are completely developed with all their eggs for life. I am grown from an egg that developed in 1930 and Jack is grown from one developed in 1926. So we figure in another forty years she might use one of her eggs to give us a grandchild. This week she should start putting on fat and growing hair. We are very curious what that will look like, since we have blonde, brown, red and black hair in the immediate family, as well as straight, wavy and curly. Any guesses?

Some have reported difficulty interpreting the ultrasound photo I posted. Here are clues: it's a head shot and she's looking directly at you with her head tipped to one side. Only one eye is visible and, due to the depth of the ultrasound reading, it looks like it's wide open, although in reality she probably had it completely closed. Later I'll post a profile shot.

We are getting a kick out of the pet names people are giving our little gipper. Maribeth is calling her Lolita, Laura is calling her Bunny, and I think Aunt Kathy is calling her BG for Baby Gipper or JM for Jack or Mary. Granny a.k.a. the Queen Mother is calling her the Little Princess. Uncle Mark is calling her Jesusuzy ("Hey Suzy") because she seems to be immaculately conceived and certainly has been long-anticipated.

OUR OB IS MIGHTY PLEASED

Today we made it in to our follow-up OB appointment - Mary's big day out. He was clearly pleased I had made it 4 whole weeks without delivering. After the midnight bleeding scare, he had been gravely concerned I could hold the pregnancy through this month. Both he and his nurse were excited I hadn't needed another hospitalization. Now my OB wants me to go one more week for a "viable" baby, and another 4-6 weeks for a healthy preemie. No problemo! We are scheduled to see him again in a month and then we see the perinatologist for a re-evaluation of the placenta. Of course I'm to call if there's any problem between now and then.

I thought I was having a big problem with my blood pressure, because I can't shower or dress (two things I now avoid) without having to suddenly hit the deck panting and sweating, with a thunderous heart and the threat of fainting. My OB gave me iron supplements, assuming I'm anemic, so that should help. And bedrest continues - so far, so good. Jack did ask permission to transport me to the beach once in awhile if I promised to behave and just sit quietly. We got the okay for that, which is HUGE.

So all in all we are pleased, too!

Beer gut or pregnant?

Today we attempted to capture the miracle of life as it's being displayed on my new physique. I must say, it's probably just fine that I'm on house arrest I mean bed rest and no one can see me - I'm not looking all that cute. Even so, I dug out my favorite tee shirt and put it on, along with my gargantuan new bra so Daddio could take my picture. In the end, I'm posting the Mama's-eye-view of pregnancy. That tee shirt felt like I was wearing a rubber band. Note that my belly sticks up farther than my chest, which has also gained in altitude. Also, I uploaded the close-up ultrasound of our baby daughter taken in the middle of the night 3 weeks ago - see the second blog post for that.

Perinatologist Appointment

We went to our perinatologist appointment yesterday, me, Jack, Granny Ernestine, and our baby daughter. It went very well in terms of getting genetic counseling and seeing the baby again on ultrasound. We took a blank video tape and got about 40 minutes of fetus footage to start her video album to go with the still shots of her as a one-celled being back on her conception date in 2002. My how times have changed.

We met with the genetic counselor who said our original Down Syndrome testing odds came back at 1:28, our follow up test with corrected maternal age came back at 1:330, and our third correction came back at 1:90. Don't ask us to explain this. The bottom line is we just want to know if we'll deliver a live child, Down Syndrome or not. In truth, we do not believe we are carrying a Down's child, but diagnosis cannot be made without either amniocentesis, which we refuse to do, or delivering the child and getting a good look at her. The other tests showed she has a 1:10,000 chance of chromosomal abnormality.

The rest of the appointment was the ultrasound, where the perinatologist (the partner of the one who worked me up/over in the hospital two weeks ago) took measurements of every tiny part of our daughter. He joked along with us as he went and concluded our baby showed no outward signs of Down Syndrome.

Our daughter looks ripped, by the way. You should have seen her biceps. Jack nearly fell off his chair when the doctor rolled the ultrasound wand over her rather well-endowed leg muscles. She looked like she was part jumping frog or maybe Uncle Mike Jennings. Remeasurement of her femur suggests it is a normal length (perhaps compared with the rest of her dimensions, rather than compared with the dimensions of other babies of her gestational age), but her tibia bone was proportionally long. Part frog, part gorilla, apparently. The doctor also commented on her prominent ears and we thought her profile showed an upturned nose. What a looker!

Unfortunately we expected this appointment to provide us more information about my bedrest and the integrity of my placenta. This was not the focus of the appointment, apparently. We did, however, learn that the hematoma is indeed a subchorionic hematoma (SCH), and it has shrunk from 8 cm to 6.6 cm in two weeks' time. That is excellent news. Neither the placenta previa nor the status of my cervix was evaluated. We have no news about how much longer I'll be on bedrest, whether bedrest is helping prevent early delivery, or how serious a threat this particular SCH is. Most SCH's are diagnosed in the first trimester. The ones diagnosed in the second trimester or third trimesters with profuse bleeding are more worrisome. We do see our OB next week, so perhaps we'll get more information then.

Thanks for tuning in!

So this is what it's like to have a high risk pregnancy. Well at least we had no new trips to the hospital, thank goodness.

Last week my OB's office called to warn me we'd be getting an official letter from the State of California. It seems my triple screen test came back positive for Down Syndrome. My OB reviewed the results and asked them to rerun the test using age 34 instead of 39, since I was 34 when our frozen tot was created. When the State reran the test, it came back negative for Down Syndrome, but because the first result was positive, Jack and I are eligible for genetic counseling with our perinatologist. I was laughing on the phone with the nurse as she was telling me all this, thinking, "Yeah right we have a Down Syndrome child," because (ahem) she has a long femur and Down's babies have short femurs. Even so, Jack and I have shifted our thinking to include Special Olympics fame.

Friend Sarah came to visit us for three days and, to make me feel at home, she wore her pyjamas and lounged around with me sipping tea, watching the tube and gabbing. It was delightful. While she was here I did have some scary new abdominal pains last Friday. Although I was very concerned that my cervix was dilating and labor pains would be imminent, the doctor on-call said if my bleeding didn't significantly increase then bedrest is all I could do anyway. Thank the Sweet Lord the pains stopped by Sunday. Woohoo!

Of course Monday night I ended up on the bathroom floor, shaking, sweating, fighting back simultaneous nausea, diarrhea and loss of consciousness. Jack really loves when I do that.... It passed so we didn't call the doctor. Had I hemorrhaged at the same time I would have gone right to the hospital. I was not dehydrated. I have been having a few vasovagal responses (especially after transabdominal ultrasounds) which may be caused by pressure exerted by my growing daughter on my nerves and arteries. Ah, motherhood.

Jack marvelled the other night about how many people get pregnant fairly easily and go on to have normal pregnancies without a daily white-knuckle existence. He says, "I'll breathe easy when you make it to October 15th." That will mark 28 weeks, which would be a relatively safe time to deliver a preemie. A baby born at 21 weeks does not survive.

Earlier this year I began to complain that *somebody* had gone ahead and renewed my subscription to the Disease of the Month Club without me knowing. Although I'm still not worried about the partial placenta previa diagnosis (yet), I can't figure out what it means to have an apple-shaped clot in there with our baby. A subchorionic hematoma - a blood clot that forms between the placenta and the uterine wall - can result in early labor. But that doesn't seem to be my situation. We'll know more when we see our perinatologist again. Let's all pray that clot has completely disappeared by the time I have that ultrasound on Monday!

MIDNIGHT SCARE

Well, another week, another drama. On Friday night I woke up at 2:15 am in a pool of blood and fluid. Jack thought my water had broken - waaaaaaay too early. When we got to the ER we were able to be admitted directly to Labor & Delivery. The nurse checked me out and took some samples and agreed it seemed like my water had broken, but final diagnosis needed to be made with ultrasound. Jack kept having to lie on the floor because he felt faint. In usual form, I refused to believe miscarriage is possible. As we waited for the ultrasound technician to come in from home, we got to hear the baby's heartbeat, loud and strong as ever. When the technician came in, she was able to immediately tell us that the amniotic fluid level was high - PHEW. It turns out I have partial placental previa, which means I could go into premature labor and may need a C-section if it doesn't right itself over the next month. We were elated to find out the baby was not in immediate danger and was in fact healthy and swimming around like a minnow.

We found out this little gipper is a baby girl. Yahoo! We cracked up when we saw her on the screen. She had a thumbs-up on her left hand and a hang-ten on her right. She's apparently oblivious to our little scare in the night. It looks like she has deep set eyes and jowls and in our photo it looks like she's smiling. Later on, the perinatologist said this little girl has a long femur, and is developing quickly.


My doctor kept me in the hospital for the weekend, but felt it was safe to send me home on bedrest. I'll have another ultrasound in 3 weeks, which will tell us if the placenta has grown away from the cervix or if it's still posing a problem. My body has apparently attempted a correction of the situation and has grown an apple-sized blood clot to dam up the area that started bleeding. On ultrasound, we saw our baby girl had the back of her head resting comfortably on the clot like a pillow.


So I'll be on bedrest for about a month and maybe two. After the end of two months, I'll be safe to deliver a preemie with a fighting chance to survive, if I go into early labor. I'm hoping the previa will "go away" over this next month though.

Week 19

Greetings, friends and family! I decided to start this blog after reading friend Jessica's on this same site (thanks, Jess!).

Today I begin my 19th week of pregnancy. To celebrate, I got dressed and went in for a dental appointment - something I could not have managed in June or July, or even last week. Thank goodness for Zofran! I've been so sick through my first trimester with "hyperemesis gravidarum" that I haven't been able to keep people properly updated - I hope this blog helps.

Here is what eMedicine has to say about hyperemesis gravidarum:

Nausea and vomiting in pregnancy is extremely common. Studies estimate that nausea and vomiting occurs in 50-90% of pregnancies. The nausea and vomiting associated with pregnancy usually begins by 9-10 weeks of gestation, peaks at 11-13 weeks, and resolves in most cases by 12-14 weeks. In 1-10% of pregnancies, symptoms may continue beyond 20-22 weeks...

The most severe form of nausea and vomiting in pregnancy is called HYPEREMESIS GRAVIDARUM (HEG). HEG is characterized by persistent nausea and vomiting associated with ketosis and weight loss (>5% of prepregnancy weight). HEG may cause volume depletion, electrolytes and acid-base imbalances, nutritional deficiencies, and even death. Severe hyperemesis requiring hospital admission occurs in 0.3-2% of pregnancies.

I've been out of the hospital and on Zofran every 4 hours for about three weeks. Despite my being so sick, Jack and I are both giddy about our growing baby. My tummy is now sticking straight out at my belly button like a small ski jump. Next week we have a 4-D ultrasound and should find out if we'll want a pink or blue receiving blanket.