A busy week

Dear Emi,
It was a non-stop, crazy week.

I spent the restless, wee hours of last Saturday morning at my laptop researching cholestasis. Thanks to Itchy Moms, a terrific online resource created by a woman who had it, I found out that cholestasis is very rare, occurring in only about 1 percent of pregnancies. Women who are carrying multiple babies, had previous liver damage or whose mothers or sisters with it were most at risk, while there are higher incidents in women living in Scandinavia and South America. Puzzling since none of those apply to me.

I also learned that most specialists recommend inducing labor by the 38th week of pregnancy, when the risk of stillbirth increases. Dr. Chan hadn't mentioned anything about inducing labor, and when I'd asked him about it he said that he wanted to let you grow for as long as possible. I resolved, however, to further prod him into getting you out before it was too late.

Fueled by the possibility that you could be arriving in less than two weeks, I spent the weekend dragging Daddy around town running errands. We went to Costco and stocked up on essentials, then picked up the beautiful upholstered rocker Daddy bought me for your room before heading over to Pau Pau's house to get the rest of my shower gifts and your crib. We also had to stop at my old office to get my files and personal belongings.

When we finally got home, Daddy got to work putting together your crib. Now, your daddy has many wonderful qualities - he's warm, funny, smart and very loving - but he'd be the first to tell you that he's not the handiest of men. Anytime he has to fix or assemble anything the long hours are punctuated by swearing and typically result in at least one injury. To make matters worse, the instructions included in the box were for a totally different crib, so your daddy had to figure out how to build it on his own, which he did fairly easily because as I said, he's a smart man.

When he was done, he proudly showed me the perfectly assembled, white, wooden crib, demonstrating how to lower and raise one side. It was beautiful! I made your crib with the pretty pink and green cherry blossom bedding set I'd picked out even before we knew you were a girl, and arranged a stuffed dog and the organic monkey from Christina in the corner. That night I rocked in my new glider, listening to "Swan Lake" as I munched on an apple and counted your movements.

It was the first moment of ease I'd felt since finding out about the cholestasis. You were happily rumbling around as I rocked back and forth, and you finished your ten movements in about a half-hour reassuring me that you were still snug and secure inside me.

Tuesday afternoon we had our first non-stress test. The nurse hooked me up to a fetal monitor that would keep track of any contractions I could be having as well as your heartbeat. She also gave me a "clicker" to push every time I felt you move. Daddy was given the task of watching an indicator light on the monitor to make sure it stayed green and was still picking up signals.

For twenty minutes we listened to the unwavering pulses of your heart beating booming through the exam room. Just as I feared, however, you were taking your afternoon nap and I could only detect a few, small shrugs. Dr. Chan confirmed my suspicions when he came in and checked the paper read-out. "Did she fall asleep or something?" he asked, pointing to a line that showed uniform squiggles all along the paper ticker tape. He explained that it showed a very steady, rhythmic heartbeat, which was good, but he also wanted to see spikes indicating heart rate increases. "I'm going to wake her up a bit," he said as he began shaking my belly.

Slowly, reluctantly you began to move. Over the next several minutes the steady pounding of your heart was interrupted by periodic bouts of static as you squirmed. It was sort of like listening to a paranormal phenomenon, the kind you see on "Haunted America" or "Ghostbusters."

After examining the read-out again, Dr. Chan called the results were reassuring. "This is good," he said. He told us that he'd consulted three different University of California perinatologists - obstetricians specializing in high-risk pregnancies - who naturally offered three varying opinions. The upshot was Dr. Chan wanted to induce labor by my 38th week. In addition to the fetal monitoring every three days, he wanted to check my cervix on the 24th to see if I was dilated enough to induce labor. If not, he'd either wait a couple more days, or give me medication to soften my cervix in anticipation of inducing. Worst case scenario, he'd have to do a Cesarean section. "One way or the other, she's coming out by Halloween," he announced. "I can't wait to deliver this kid. It's been a long haul, hasn't it?"

I was almost jubilant with relief. I'd read on Itchymoms.com that many ob/gyns are unfamiliar with cholestasis, probably because it is so rare, and frequently insist to their patients that they're merely suffering from the minor skin irritations that are common in pregnancy. In some cases, the babies were allowed to stay in the womb for too long, sometimes resulting in stillbirth. Before my appointment that day, I'd vowed to push for inducing before the 38th week. It was good to know I wouldn't have to.

Dr. Chan really deserved all those Top 10 Ob/Gyn plaques that lined his office walls.

I had to break the news to my editor when I returned to the office that afternoon; after two whole days in my new job downtown, I'd be going on maternity leave by the end of the week. He was very understanding and supportive, urging me to feel free to take off sooner if I wasn't up to finishing the week.

Truthfully, I was glad to be going. Although I felt fine, the itchiness made it uncomfortable to wear certain clothes, particularly bras. To make maters worse, the newsroom downtown was set at 75 degrees, a tad too warm for my tastes and the heat made the itchiness worse. I downed copious amounts of ice water, to no avail. I was also becoming more and more fatigued, partly because I couldn't sleep through the night. Friday couldn't come fast enough as far as I was concerned.

Once, when I was in the company cafeteria a woman asked me if I'd had any Braxton Hicks contractions yet, precursors to labor, when the uterus is essentially practicing for D-Day. I shook my head and she told me they felt really weird. Not painful, just like something was stretching inside you. Surprised, I wondered if those strange tightening I'd been feeling in my belly for weeks were actually Braxton Hicks contractions.

Friday afternoon we were back in Dr. Chan's office for more fetal monitoring. This time you passed with flying colors, moving around like a champ. The surprising news was that I was having contractions. "You might just go into labor on your own," Dr. Chan said.

"Really? I don't feel anything."

"Maybe you're one of those women who won't feel labor pains," he suggested.

"I've never heard of that..."

"Me neither," Dr. Chan chuckled.

Later, your daddy and I celebrated my maternity leave with a steak dinner at Outback. We happily chewed New York cut sirloins, and talked about all the things we still had to do before you arrived.