To laugh often and much;

To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of people;

To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends;


To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others;
To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition;

To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived

This is to have succeeded.

-Bessie Stanley & Ralph Waldo Emerson


Wednesday, February 9, 2011

26 week ultasound

Yesterday I went in for my last ultrasound. When they did my sonogram at 18 weeks, the ultrasound tech was unable to get good views at the low lumbar area of the spine and an anterior view of the face to discern if baby has cleft palette. Once again, we saw the beating heart, and this time, the ultrasound tech said it was a perfect study of a fetal heart. Beating 147 BPM, it was very strong. She zoomed in on the heart and I could see all 4 chambers: right and left atriums and right and left ventricles, complete with the tricuspid and bicuspid valves allowing blood to pump through them between the atriums and ventricles. On my last test for A & P, I had to describe in an essay the heart cycle, complete with knowledge of anatomy of the heart. It was so neat to have my hard work gratified when I saw our baby's heart beating in real time.

This one is the classic ultrasound profile of baby's head.



Save the best for last. This one is a 3/4 perspective of the face, so baby is not quite looking straight at you. In real time, we could see baby stick out its tongue of the mouth a few times. You can see the thoracic area of the spine and the two clavicles. I think baby has daddy's long nose. :)

Friday, February 4, 2011

Thursday, February 3, 2011

25 weeks


25 weeks & nesting

So today is February 3rd: my mother-in-law's _th birthday, the day after Groundhog's Day, and the sixth week in a row I have not worked. We called my mother-in-law, Kathy, to wish her well on her birthday, and it looks like Punxsutawney Phil is forecasting an early spring. But the forecast on my work doesn't look good. It took me the better part of January to communicate with my employer, ManorCare (the geriatric facility where I've worked for 2 years as a CNA), about my new work restrictions due to my pregnancy. Technically, I could still do my job as a CNA...only with alot more risk involved. I was given a list of work guidelines from my midwife in regards to bending/stooping and lifting and, according to strict interpretation of these guidelines and what my job requires of me on a daily basis, I am alot more limited in what I can do after 20 weeks- which I reached on Dec. 20th. My midwife and I wrote a letter together to my employer informing them of my new restrictions after 20 weeks. According to my midwife, many women she provides prenatal care for follow the work guideline sheet (the same one I was given) much more loosely, in the interest that they will be able to earn a paycheck longer until maternity leave. The management at ManorCare has really dragged their feet in communicating to me, sending me to talk to this person and that until I finally connected (after leaving a couple of voice messages) with the right people. I am technically an on-call aid, meaning I let ManorCare know my availability and they call me (even when I am not available) to ask me if I can work. Since I went on-call last July while continuing to go to school part time, it's worked out to be about 3 shifts a week. Now that I have more restrictions due to my pregnancy, they haven't called me once in the past several weeks. "We'd prefer a CNA who can do all the regular requirements of the job", they tell me. I'm still available to do light duty, clerical work, or escorts with patients to doctor appts! There's no reason I shouldn't be called! Things tend to wax and wane economically for ManorCare too, it seems. They can only justify a light duty aid or help with clerical work sometimes, and, unfortunately for me, this season looks like it's one of them.

So this means between studying A & P, running errands, cleaning house, exercising at the Y, and intermittent coffee dates with friends, I have been spending plenty of quality time with me, myself, and I for the past several weeks. My days are largely unstructured. I have class Monday and Wednesday nights and make sure I stay on top of my schoolwork (but sometimes I have to muster the discipline to memorize every vein and artery in the body). Joe is teaching school or lessons after school 5 days a week and doesn't get home until about 5:30 each night. On the nights I don't have class, I don't want to study; I want to spend time with my husband because I've been so lonely during the day. At first, it was nice to be able to get more than enough sleep and have ample time to exercise and study. Now, I feel that I need an outside force to implement discipline and structure in my daily life so I actually feel like I am doing something worthwhile each day. It's completely up to me to structure my days. At first, I enjoyed this new challenge. Now, it's driving me crazy at times!

My house has never be cleaner. The laundry has never been finished as quickly on Fridays. And I have definitely started nesting. I have turned our home into Operation Welcome Baby Lindquist. I have gutted the closets in our home and purged them of all superfluous paraphernalia to make room for the onslaught of baby goods I hear new mothers receive as gifts from showers and bring home from repeated pilgrimages to Target and Babies R Us. (I even organized my linen closet within an inch of its life.) We received the crib via UPS from my generous mother-in-law about 2 weeks ago, but due to a manufacturing error, we were unable to complete the task of assembling it. We sold our queen-sized guest bed on craigslist. I am even doing those acrimonious tasks we all avoid, like deleting old emails from my inbox (about 500 in all). I organized several hundred of my photos, many of which date back to high school and early college, into photo albums at night while I watched TV.

Sometimes, on Sunday nights, I get especially sad Joe has to head back to work the next day. Last week I was close to tears because I didn't want to face another week of loneliness. When he comes home, I am so happy that I don't have to be alone anymore that day that I don't always make time to study, even though I really should.

Speaking of A & P, I am one of two pregnant women in my class. Our instructor, Mel, likes to make examples of us from time to time. (Studying embryology at the end of the quarter should be interesting.) Like how we should avoid sleeping on our back because the baby will be pressing against the vena cava, the vein that sends blood to the heart. Depending on how big baby is and how long baby is resting on the vein, the blood flow could be impeded. So it is in the best interest of mom to sleep on her side. The other expectant mom in my class is due at the end of March, two weeks after our final, and I am crossing my fingers she makes it until then without going into labor. My lab partner Trish says she is living vicariously through me because she is not a mom and continually peppers me with questions. Although it's just daily life to me, everything from my growing belly to how I'm feeling during my pregnancy is fascinating to her.


Friday, January 21, 2011

23 weeks

As I write this, I reflect on how I am nearly 24 weeks, and the longer I am pregnant, the more the weeks tend to blur together. Hence, my blogging every 7-10 days has waned and when people ask me "how are you feeling?" I tend to come up with a pat answer of, "I'm feeling fine, thanks."

Which, all things considered, is the truth; it really is. Baby is kicking so often these days that I can hardly sleep at night and it is often distracting while I try to pay attention to lecture or study A & P. I wish I could honestly say that, oh, I just LOVE when baby kicks, but I really find it annoying at times. (I feel guilty even saying that at times.) It's hard getting used to a little somebody inside of me moving around! I was told long before I even was married or pregnant that when babies move in utero, it feels like butterfly wings. I have nothing to compare this pregnancy to, but I certainly do feel like this little one is assertive. Right now baby is sleeping, but- knock on wood- things could change by the end of this blog post.

I continue to have changes in my tastes for food. I'll make the same recipes I enjoyed or a recipe I know I would've enjoyed if I wasn't pregnant, and I just won't taste the same. For example, last night I made a huge recipe of chicken enchiladas- about 24 of them in all...for 2 people. (Sometimes, I get a little gung ho when meal-planning because I try to stretch out the recipes I make as long as possible.) Not only was it a little too spicy (and our spice tolerance is pretty high for white people), it JUST DIDN'T TASTE RIGHT. On Sunday nights when I was in college, PLU's cafeteria would make THE SAME THING. EVERY. SINGLE. SUNDAY NIGHT. Classic Sunday night dinner, they called it: rolls, pork tenderloin, some green vegetable blah blah blah. Gross. No wonder I gained all that weight eating ice cream for dinner. I remember not wanting to eat what they had in the cafeteria, but still being hungry...only I didn't know for what. It was like my senses were so dulled by mediocre food, I didn't know what I wanted to eat. Now my sense of taste has been dulled by pregnancy hormones so that I can't even cook as well as I used to or really want to eat what I cooked. All I know is I wish I would stop craving ice cream. I find myself apologizing to my husband for spending our grocery budget making meals I am really not looking forward to eating. He is a trooper, but I don't know if he can choke down all those spicy enchiladas.

Not only is my husband a champ when it comes eating my poorly prepared meals, he is trying to bear with me as I wrestle my way into a comfortable sleeping position each night. I first realized at about 10 or 11 weeks with all the funny feelings I was having that I couldn't sleep on my tummy (as often) as I used to. Now I really can't sleep on my tummy like I was accustomed to because I am just too big and baby moves too much anyway. According to Joe, I am a "furnace". It's January, and we typically have our down comforter on and the heat turned up. Now, I am not only thrashing around because I can't get comfortable, I also am too hot. I need the heater turned down and forget the down comforter!

(I suppose the next logical thing would be to talk about my raging hormones, but I won't subject you to that. Heaven only knows how Joe has had to lovingly endure this part of pregnancy.)



Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Sonogram pics

On December 20th, we went for our sonogram. Where I am receiving my prenatal care is a big HMO and they were running about 1/2 an hour behind. So I was sitting there, waiting for the ultrasound tech to call my name, rocking back and forth because my bladder was near full. The ultrasound tech promised lots of photos to make up for the fact she was so late. I was 19 weeks when this sonogram was done. They were unable to get a good shot of a view of the lower lumbar area and the face which would show whether or not baby has a cleft palate. This means I have to go back when I am about 25 weeks to get another ultrasound. Without further ado, here they are...

Why, hello there. My name is Baby Lindquist and I plan on making my debut around May 14th. In this picture, I am looking straight at you and my hands are touching my cheeks. You can see the ulna and radius in my arms.


You can see the biggest bones in my body, my femurs, in this shot. The first shot I gave everybody was a fairly obvious one if they intended to find out if I was a boy or a girl- my legs were right up over my head. My mom will confess that she tried to look and see which sex I was, but with my lightning-fast moves and her untrained eyes, she wasn't able to tell.


Here is a shot of my 4 chambered heart. My parents could see my heart pulsing at 140 beats per minute.


Here are my cute feet for you to behold.


And just because the ultrasound tech was feeling EXTRA generous, she included another shot of my left foot. You can decide which shot of my foot you like better.