Shelton & Brandi

Hello! We're Brandi & Shelton Koskie. Since 2006 we’ve been one of the many couples on the In Vitro Fertilization journey. We were the first IVF fundraiser blog, and thanks to the generous help of many, in we had our first successful IVF attempt. Nine months later, we had a beautiful girl, Paisley. You’re invited to follow along on our journey from infertility to parenthood.  Learn more

Pregnancy Week 39

You want to know how week 39 was? It was awful. Oh, AND I AM STILL PREGNANT!!

Seriously, I spent the first four days of last week in so much pain that I was pretty much stuck in bed and Shelton stayed home from work three whole days to take care of me. When we went to the doctor’s appointment on Monday, I sat in his waiting room crying in pain. Only to go in there and tell me that there had been NO changes in my dilation from the previous Monday. By Wednesday, I’d decided that four whole days of that nonsense was enough and called the doctor; he asked me to go to the hospital. I spent one entire hour at the hospital and the resident basically shrugged, told me I was 39 weeks pregnant and I needed to go home. Thanks a lot.

He did examine me and the pain was such that I felt like my body was being split in half; because I wasn’t already in enough pain. Add to that that I had actually not bled in about a week, and since the exam Wednesday my little friend is back. Seriously, what gives?!

I’m trying to savor these last days (hours) of my pregnancy, because in all likelihood I’ll never experience it again. It’s a bitter sweet taste to have in my mouth right now. For as tumultuous as this has been, I’ve actually quite enjoyed being pregnant. I so desperately wanted this experience and to share it with my husband and I think we’ve gotten our money’s worth (literally!). It’s truly been amazing and eye-opening and surreal. I’m bursting at the sames (again, literally) to meet her, see her, smell her; and yet, I don’t want to let go of the somersault motion I feel everytime she stretches.

This morning we woke up and I thought to myself “This is the last Sunday morning we’ll have alone in this bed”. And I’m OK with that. We’ll carry her in there each weekend morning to snuggle with us, and one day that curly, ratty mop of hair we’ll figure out how to climb in all by herself. And it will be bliss.

We’re seriously in the any minute now zone. I still can’t believe we made it. This morning we hit 40 weeks and our due date is tomorrow. Six years ago to now has been a very, very long time. Time seems to be standing still suddenly. Sometime between now and really Thursday at the latest (we’ll induce Wed a.m. if we have to) we’ll have a baby. Wow.

The Word of the Day is Induce

I’ve reached that point where I’ll try just about anything to get this baby out. I know my due date isn’t until Monday, but I’m early to everything and I don’t understand why my offspring can’t go ahead and start taking after me now. Shelton and I agree that we have a gut feeling this baby isn’t coming a minute before Monday; in fact, she might even be holding out to make her debut on Tuesday, Shelton’s 30th birthday. If all else fails, we’ll induce on Wednesday.

BABY GET OUT!

I’ve heard the same “wive’s tales” as you – eat Mexican food, stimulate your nipples, have sex, vacuum, etc. I’ve done most of those things, several times, I’m still pregnant. In fact, In December I was so excited because we bought a new vacuum and ditched the one we’ve had for eight years that made the house smell like old macaroni and cheese when you used it. I would actually not vacuum before guests came over because the dirty floor was better than the stench. That beast is gone. Right as we were buying this new vacuum, my bleeding took off again and I was advised not to touch the vacuum because it could send me in to labor. Clearly I’m old and have no life because I was so broken hearted that I could use my new vacuum. But last night, I whipped that thing out and vacuumed the entire living room and dining room. I even considered riding on it and letting Shelton push it. I’m still pregnant.

For the first time all week I lifted the “bed rest” and felt good enough to get out of these slowly-shrinking four walls. We walked through a number of places, and went to have dinner. I’m still pregnant.

I’m not sure what it’s going to take. I haven’t had a contraction in days. That’s YEARS in pregnancy. That means I will be pregnant FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. At some point I’m going to have a kindergartner residing in my belly and I’ll have to swallow toothpaste so that she can brush her mouth full of teeth.

So I googled “induce labor” and figured I’d try a few more safe homemade ways to kick this baby in to gear. And I found, what I’m calling, a fairly humorous lists of suggestions for inducing labor – this from eHow. I mean, I couldn’t get past her first bullet without laughing:

The most effective simple exercise I did was going up stairs two at a time. It opens the pelvis and puts pressure in all the right places. I think this was the only reason that my second baby was born.

Really?? The ONLY REASON your baby was born because you took stairs two at a time? Hmm, pretty sure SOMETHING would have intervened if your rockin’ stair climbing ability hadn’t done the job. (PS I climbed four flights of stairs at a parking garage the other night… still pregnant. Guess I should have gone two at a time and I could have had her right there by the elevator.)

From her bullet number five:

Look into your honey’s eyes and lead him to the bedroom. Yes, this may sound absurd, but orgasm and sex can trigger contractions. To put it crudely, what got the baby in, can get the baby out.

Well, sex didn’t put her in there so sex isn’t going to get her out.

I had to stop reading after bullet number 12 because it got completely absurd. Why would anyone recommend this? First of all, talk about the world’s worst tasting chocolate soda (as if those things could taste any worse). I’ve never understood how the digestive system has any affect on the reproductive system.

You need a tall glass of root beer, 4 oz of castor oil, and Hershey’s syrup.

For now, I’m sitting on my yoga ball doing hip circles and bouncing, a little bit. My sister suggested sitting on the washer with a lop-sided load… that could take care of TWO needs. Maybe I’ll strip the bed tomorrow. And vacuum the living room again while I eat raw jalapenos.

Belly Pics

Thanks to my mom for coming over to take a few pictures of Shelton and I with the belly. We realized this weekend we didn’t have any decent “together” pregnant pictures and figured the clock was ticking if we were going to get any. These are my faves.

OB Appointment Week 39

I’m not entirely sure what has happened in the last 24 hours, but I’m in so much pain I can barely walk across the room. I certainly can’t stand upright. My abdomen feels like it does when I’m recovering from a laparoscopy and it’s radiating in to my back. Add also that it feels as hard as a concrete floor. But I’m not having any contractions! There is no comfortable position, moving just shifts the weight somewhere else that hurts. So I’ve been in bed in my PJs since 2:30 this afternoon. It would be really great if I didn’t have to pee so much then I wouldn’t have to keep forcing myself to baby step to the bathroom.

I was in as much pain if not worse this afternoon at the OB. In fact, I cried in his waiting room I was in so much pain. Of course, got a shrug and told this is normal/part of it. I know it is. I know that’s a fair response, but damn, it sucks to hear it.

Do you want to know what else it sucks to hear?

That there was NO progress!!!!! NONE!!! I went last Monday, dilated to two. Went today and “everything looks the same.” I literally dropped an F bomb on the table and almost started crying again. How is that possible?!

He told me to basically hold on because the next week won’t get any easier. We’re due 4/26 and we discussed that he’ll induce 4/28 if she doesn’t appear by then.

For now I’m having a PJ-Chipotle party in bed and running down the batteries of all of my electronics. Tomorrow night my mom is coming over and she might make me vacuum!!

Oh, and I lost ten pounds since last week.

Pregnancy Week 38

Can I just say that these last couple weeks of pregnancy should be classified under Ways to Make an Enemy Speak like Chinese Water Torture? For a type A personality like myself, this is about as cruel and unusual as it gets.

I couldn’t be more done. Over it. Finished. GET HER OUT! And I say that with an air of hesitancy because I don’t want to seem ungrateful. No one, NO ONE, appreciates this pregnancy more than me. I am thankful each and every day for the giant belly, the extra 30 pounds, the stretch marks, the completely irrational crying, heartburn, and every little somersault I feel in my gut. But man I’m done. I think it’s fair to say this wasn’t a “normal” pregnancy. It started all the way back in early July with a six-week fertility-drug roller coaster that turned into pregnancy, that turned into months of unexplainable bleeding, and the fear every day that it would be a fleeting moment and never come to pass.

But here we sit one entire week from our due date and I can hardly believe we’re here. The reality is looming and is unspeakably overwhelming. And I want her out. I want her out because I’m tired of talking about it and planning and thinking, I just want to hold her. I want to get this next chapter started. I’d also like to not cry when my husband holds up cutesy embroidered pillows at Hobby Lobby or I see a red-head in a magazine, or someone looks at me. (All true events.)

So this is the start of week 39. I feel like 38 was a blur. Shelton keeps teasing me for trying desperately to initiate my labor, and it’s all fair. Thankfully the weather is finally nice and we’ve been able to talk a walk every evening, on top of a couple “necessary” trips to Target, Sams, Hobby Lobby and others so that I could literally just wander around. We went to a movie Friday night (Death at a Funeral… hilarious!); I figured we’d watch one more in a theater as they will likely be introducing 9D technology the next time we make it out to one. I hoped the hard belly laughs would break my water. I also hoped that bypassing the slackers waiting on the elevator and climbing the three flights of stairs (then going back down one because we went too far) would start something. But it didn’t.

I did no less than a dozen loads of laundry this weekend. I did dishes. I grocery shopped. I cooked. I cleaned. Nothing.

I keep eyeballing the neighbor’s giant trampoline like a big piece of hot, gooey doughy pizza. They wouldn’t mind if the pregnant stranger hopped on and tried to shake out the baby, would they?

We’ve reached this point – the point of no return and the point of absolute uncertainty as to when she’s going to decide to show up. I take back what I said about flicking her in the bladder (because you know, payback sucks) if she’ll just go ahead and get out already.

My Half-Marathon Pipe Dream

I’m putting it here because I’m that committed to my goal. I have every intention of running a half marathon (13.1 miles) this October. Just six months after having this baby.

Go ahead and scoff and yeah right me, but I don’t see any reason I can’t and shouldn’t be able to do it. I feel incredibly fortunate to call several Biggest Losers friends, and every one of them has told me that it’s entirely doable, and reasonable. I’m very fortunate to call an incredible trainer a friend, and he also echoes this positive line of thinking.

I swear the next person I tell that I’m planning to run a half mary who scoffs, grimaces, laughs and goes “yeah, mmm hmm, OK”, it’s entirely likely I will kick them in the shin. Let’s see YOU run with broken shins, yeah huh?!

As soon as I get the all clear, my butt is moving again. I’ve only gained 30 pounds in this pregnancy; a respectable gain considering the recommended average is 35 pounds. There’s absolutely no reason I can’t lose that and get back in shape. And why wouldn’t I want to? I am a healthy woman, and I’m going to be a healthy mom. It won’t be as easy as it was before, but it’s certainly no excuse to just let things go and five years from now whine about my “baby fat.” Guess what, five years from now, that’s not baby fat… that’s just fat.

Last year we lost a dear friend to ovarian cancer, and she has a quote on her Facebook page that has always stayed with me:

“So far I have survived assorted broken bones, living in tornado alley, law school, the bar exam (while on chemo) and stage IV ovarian cancer. Bring it!”

No, I’m not fighting terminal cancer here, and I sure as hell haven’t tried to pass a bar exam, but I am trying to do something that most people think is impossible, just like Anna did. I’m going to have a baby and six months later be standing in a crowd of athletes with a big number pinned to my chest… and I’m going to run 13.1 miles.

Bring it.