So every now and again I get an email from a family member asking what is going on with me and the pregnancy.
The main news is the baby is still healthy and well, and growing quickly! My doctor has been keeping a close eye on me, though, so I don't have the baby too early. At the end of January, I was having contractions three minutes apart. So they sent me to the hospital, where I stayed a few hours and then was released with a prescription that makes the blood vessels dilate throughout my whole body, but keeps the contractions at bay, so I can't really complain. Since then I've had a Dr.'s appointment about every week--they are doing lots of tests and ultrasounds to see what is causing the contractions and to see if they're actually making me go into real labor or not. So far, no real labor, just lots of panicking nurses and one careful doctor. :)
We're still going along like we're going on vacation this week. We won't know officially until Wed. when the Dr. gives me this test (FFN) that determines with 99% accuracy that the baby will NOT be born in the next two weeks (amazing!). It's been negative the last two times, and Justin and I are feeling pretty comfortable, but nothing's for sure, I guess.
All of this has made me understand first-hand some of the foibles of doctors and doctors' offices:
1. Doctor make you do silly things to make sure they don't get sued for malpractice or something. Like, my Dr. calls me into his office sometimes twice a week, because he forgot to do some test that he meant to do the time before. I ask, "Can it wait until next week?" Of course, the answer is always "No."
2. Even though most of the labor and delivery nurses I've met are extremely competent individuals, they still must defer all major decision making to the doctor. This would make sense, except that I'm sure they've seen the same condition as the doctor 3000 times, and know just as well what is to be done.
3. Doctors sometimes don't read their charts.
On the days when my doctor is off, I have directed my questions to another one of the doctors in the office, and promptly receive a reply, to my complete satisfaction. However, when next I see the doctor and he asks innocently what questions can he answer, I ask for some follow-up on the last call I made and he looks at me completely blankly. Seriously, nothing behind the eyes, except maybe some crickets, chirping quietly. I usually have to tell the story of my medical life at least twice--sometimes more depending on who is on call. Of course,
then he reads his chart.
4. Doctors sometimes forget about your existence. (Sometimes I wish he would forgot my existence entirely, but I've never been that lucky :)) On a busy day at the doctor's office, Evie and I will get left in a room and forgotten about--this has happened twice, now. We've learned now just to get dressed and stand in the hallway until we can get someone to notice us.
5. No matter what the doctor may lead you to believe, you still have the right to dictate the terms of your medical care. I'm learning to be more feisty. Mostly I'm just passive aggressive, because I'm too tired to be anything else.
But I digress... I just wanted to let you know that the commotion, in my humble opinion, is only partially warranted and Justin and I feel a lot of peace right now. And also, that these contractions wake me up at night and leave me to babble on my blog until they pass--which explains the weird, middle-of-the-night postings. :)
Thank you for caring, dear friends and family!
Love,
Katie & the baby
Here she is with Odwalla juice all over her face. I didn't wash it off right away, because it's testament to what a fruit-crazed maniac she is! This very same juice ended up all over the carseat, too, interestingly enough. Ah, well. :) 
I wish I'd been gutsy enough to get some of her sleeping before, because children, as you know, are at their very cutest asleep. :) 
We made butterflies out of tissue paper and twisty ties. Not the most ingenious project, I know--but one I knew a toddler could do! (Saw this on my friend Jamie's blog...) Evie calls them "fies."
Here she is, doing piques after dance class with Mommy. After a couple of months accompanying me to class, she starting doing some of our bar routines at home. Here, she's doing "pique, pique, pique, switch!"
Our little prima!
