From Numbnuts to Nonuts

It's been a traumatic week for our poor cat Walker. Last Monday we had him neutered. He's nine months old and definitely showing signs of kitty puberty, like becoming more aggressive, packing on lots of muscle, and most unpleasantly, spraying in the basement (mostly on Eric's stuff - I'm sure there's something territorial about that.) He did fine during the procedure, but then afterwards he developed a fever and our vet was concerned. She ran all kinds of tests for all kinds of scary illnesses, all of which came back fine. She suggested that we leave him at the hospital overnight so they could give him fluids and antibiotics and monitor him to make sure he didn't have an infection or anything. The next day he wasn't doing any better, so that afternoon we decided that I should bring him home and see how he'd do there. Being at the animal hospital freaked him out to the point that he didn't eat, drink, or use the litter box the entire time he was there. It had been over 24 hours, and considering that they had been pumping him full of fluids, that's an awfully long time to hold it in. He must have been terrified. He was so scared when I picked him up that he didn't even seem to recognize me until he was home and out of his carrier. Within the first 20 minutes we were home he peed 4 times. A few hours later he was acting like himself again, aside from a little soreness that made him walk like a cute little bowlegged cowboy. So now I know not to board him there during our vacation this summer; being there for a week might kill him.

My little guy's pretty much completely healed now, and he seems a lot happier than he did before the surgery. I guess less testosterone=less frustration from wanting to go find a little girl kitty and not being allowed outside. Eric has had to stop calling him "Numbnuts", his nickname of choice, and instead refers to him as "Nonuts", which is presently much more accurate.

Prayer

For those of you who know my dad, you might find this interesting. He participated in a panel discussion on prayer at BYU and Jim Faulconer published some of the details on Times and Seasons. Hearing about stuff like this really makes me miss BYU, and my dad.

Smiling Fetus

This morning I had a visit to my wonderful perinatologist. Because of my blood clotting disorder (Factor V Leiden and MTHFR), they monitor me every so often to make sure the placenta is doing what it's supposed to and the baby is growing correctly. It's always more than a bit nerve-racking lying on the table with squishy gel all over for my belly, waiting for the doctor to tell me if my baby's OK. This morning's appointment couldn't have been better. Eric came with me, which always helps calm me down. I love my perinatologists. There are two of them in the office, and today we got Dr. G. He's Italian and apparently one of the best peri's in the country. He's also very warm and good at answering my neurotic questions, which is a really big deal to me. There is nothing worse than a doctor who doesn't take you seriously and brushes off your concerns, particularly when they have to do with the well-being of your unborn child.

Anyway, today Dr. G did a long scan where he measured each body part and scrutinized the placenta - sort of an extended Level II ultrasound. He hummed a song from "Carmen" the whole time, which made me less nervous, because I knew he wouldn't be humming opera if something was horribly wrong. Everything was measuring right on target, except for the head, which is measuring two weeks ahead. YIKES. Eric assures me this is typical of the babies in his family, which gives me new respect for his mother. Also, we've taken to calling the baby "Heed!" in honor of our favorite scene from "So I Married an Axe Murderer."

The great news - things looked so normal that Dr. G decided we don't have to go back for monitoring until I'm 32 weeks - 6 weeks away! I also discussed with him what had been suggested to me several appointments back, that I would probably need to be induced because I'm taking Lovenox. (Lovenox is an injection I give myself every night. It helps prevents clots from forming in me or in the baby. If I were to go into labor spontaneously having taken it in the previous 24 hours, giving me an epidural could paralyze me for life. That would suck if I wanted pain relief and couldn't have it, and it could be really dangerous if I needed an emergency C-section because they would have to use general anesthesia. Also, because it's a blood thinner, Lovenox increases the risk of hemorrhaging during delivery, which wouldn't be good either.) Dr. G said he thought it would be perfectly safe for me to discontinue the medication at 36 weeks. I'll be monitored twice a week, and given that I've never had a blood clot, things should be fine and I'll go into labor on my own. That was a huge relief to me, because I would rather not be induced if it's at all possible.

And the best part - we got to see our baby again, and now he's really starting to look like a baby. We got some new pictures to take home. I don't know if it's even possible, but I swear in the first one he's smiling. What do you think?



And a profile shot. It's a little blurry because he didn't want to hold still.



I'm totally amazed at how much I already love this little guy. I can't even imagine what it will feel like to actually be able to hold him in my arms.