Andy & Jessica

Levi came to visit me in the office today while I was working from home.  Eventually he said, “I’m going to go upstairs, but I still love you.”

To me: “I love you.  You are my prince.”

After getting those scary lab results on my thyroid level, I self-referred myself to an endocrinologist who specializes in such conditions.  I have no desire to be treated for such a potentially serious condition by my OB-GYN’s nurse practitioner.  Glad I did that.  I got in within 3 days after my diagnosis and the specialist recommended doubling my dose of thyroid hormone.  I started seeing results almost right away.  I’m not nearly as cold and tired.  And, she was able to reassure me that my thyroid hormone levels were not low enough to do any damage at all to the baby.  In fact, my level was considered normal for a non-pregnant lady, but not within the normal range for a pregnant woman.  She assured me that the baby was able to get all the hormone it needed for neurological development.  So relieved about that.  They also did more lab work than what was done at my OB-GYN and more good results that the medication is working.

I think I’m 10 weeks along.  Tomorrow is my first ultrasound.  The ultrasound will be helpful to check to see if the baby is alive (I am paranoid), and whether the baby appears to be about 10 weeks along.  I’m secretly hoping they announce I’m pregnant with triplets — 1 boy and 2 girls.

“Mom, can this be my quote of the day?  Why does Dad only let us go on the middle level?”  (Apparently Andy quarantines the boys all day to the main level of the house, except for short bathroom breaks.  According to Jude, this is because Andy is afraid they will “screw up the house or something.”)

“Even for me, I had enough fun for the day.”  (This after the boys and I biked to the park to meet friends and play, watched a helicopter land at the park, biked home and then biked with other friends.)

“I brushed my teeth with my electricity tooth brush.”

“It’s not raining out, it’s just splashing.”

Jude has been the source of constant worry for us the past 4 years or so, but my pregnancy with him was smooth sailing.  Not so with all the subsequent ones, including this latest one.  My second pregnancy was with Titus who died.  My third was with Levi who was suggested to have (based on a Quadscreen blood test) Trisomy 18, which is incompatible with life and they suggested that I consider killing him myself while he was in me instead of letting him die after he was born.  Luckily for Levi, I wouldn’t hear of it.  Then there was Asher, who was about the size of a blueberry when my uterus started hemorrhaging.  It was then that I learned he even existed and I certainly didn’t think I’d ever get to keep him.  He could have easily gotten flushed right out of me in the midst of the blood loss, but the little guy clung on tight to the side of my uterus and survived for me to tell him about it.  Now today I learned that my TSH (thyroid stimulating hormone) level is elevated and that I need to go on a prescription.  I was told that it would be really bad for the baby if left untreated.  Turns out really bad means typically one of 2 things: (1) the baby dies altogether; or (2) the baby suffers from developmental delays that can be permanent (e.g., low IQ, retardation).  It turns out that the baby has no pituitary glad until 12 weeks old so it relies entirely on the mom for the hormones that are supposed to be produced by the thyroid.  My thyroid isn’t producing enough of this hormone.  Turns out some of the causes of an elevated TSH level are pregnancy (check) and stress (check).  Best case scenario that since my TSH level wasn’t THAT elevated such that I was given the lowest dose prescription possible that the baby will survive and not have any impact.  But, it’s enough to give me a good scare.  I can’t take that new Rx until tomorrow since it has to be on an empty stomach, but I can’t wait to pop that pill and give the baby what it needs.  Besides, some of my many side effects may start to ease (e.g., I now know while I’ve been feeling chilled to the bone at all times and why I’m chubbier than I should be for someone who walks 4 hours a day).

And to top off this news, the nurse practitioner followed by giving me someone else’s PAP results.  Thank God I didn’t have a PAP done this year at all and thus managed to not die of a heart attack when she told me over the phone that the PAP showed I tested positive for the HPV virus (some STD) and that I was at high risk for cervical cancer.  Must be some other Jessica Olson that they have to deliver that bad news to.  At least I have that going for me — I’m not her.

After having to vacuum up crumbs from under the table, picking up 4 toys, taking out the recycling and then picking up some stuffed animals that he took out, “What am I, a Cinderella?”  (His brothers wouldn’t lift a finger to help him and I only got him to move by threatening to delay his nerf gun order.)

So, I was telling Jude that if he ever gets married and his wife has a baby in her tummy that he’ll just have to be her little slave boy and do whatever she wants — get her ice cream, clean the house, etc.  He said, “No way.  I’m never doing that.”  If the apple doesn’t fall from the tree then he is sure right.  I get no sympathy from Andy whatsoever.  He even dared to say, when I was ready to throw up, “Well, you wanted this.”