Baby Update – Week 17

by | Family, Living Well

At week 17 of 40, we’re nearly halfway through this pregnancy. We had a doctor appointment on Friday that went very well, although the doctor was concerned that I haven’t gained any weight and I was told I need to eat more. She used the doppler to listen to the baby’s heartbeat. I didn’t cry during any of the sonograms, but for some reason, listening to that heartbeat made me well up with tears. Perhaps just because I had my eyes closed which made it possible for my imagination to take over.

Things changed over the weekend when I started feeling a great deal of discomfort. After several calls to the consulting nurse and a handful of tums, the consulting nurse sent us to the ER on Sunday afternoon. By this time the discomfort had graduated to excruciating pain. After 5 hours in the ER, they determined that I have gall stones. Baby is fine. Now I’m on a non-fat diet. They gave me some pain and anti-nausia medication and told me to call my doctor in the morning. I have an appointment to see my doctor today to figure out how we will treat this moving forward. It may just be a watch your diet and wait and see kind of thing as they really don’t want to operate during the pregnancy.

I’m still in some pain but feeling much better now, although completely exhuasted. My big task for this week is getting caught up on all the homework I fell behind on over the past several days.
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Don’t Step on My Catheter

Don’t Step on My Catheter

by | Family

Don’t Step on My Catheter
by Michael H. Schwartz

Don’t even think about treading on
That tempting little hose of soft clear
….. plastic lying on the floor
There are plenty enough ways to
Incur my wrath without committing
That most heinous act of barbarism.

Mind your step, you fool, watch
Where you put those uncoordinated
….. blobs you call your feet.
Its not just the punishment
That should prompt alertness on
Your part, nor even humanitarian

Compassion to guide your steps aright.
But think on this, the balance
Of all the laws of physics and the
Cosmic glue that holds the
Universe together, lie at risk

Of total disintegration at
The touch of toe on tube.

 

One Year Later

One Year Later

by | Inspiration

It was one year ago today that my father passed away. I’m still learning how to wrap my brain around this fact. I keep wanting to call or email him. His email address is still sitting there in my address book while his instant messenger icon keeps telling me he’s not available.

Michael H. Schwartz - CoffeeJitters.Net

So much has happened in the past year: I finally quit my job, I’m back in college, I’m pregnant. Dad would have been thrilled about all of these things.

At his funeral, a family friend stood up and told us about a time she went to visit him in the hospital. Before she left, she asked him if there was anything specific he would like her to pray for on his behalf. He paused to think for a while, and then, at a time when any one else would pray for the pain to stop, or a cure for cancer, or wisdom for the doctors or something else along those lines, my dad said this:

“Pray that my conversations will be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, and that I will have the strength and wisdom to answer any question that is asked of me.”

Yes, my father was something of a poet, but this was actually a paraphrase of a bible verse.

One Year Later

This quote of my father has stuck with me over the past year. First of all, my conversations could most certainly use more grace. I’ve been told over and over and over again that I can only control my own reaction in a conversation. The truth is that there are ways to counter hate and bigotry gracefully. I just have to learn how to do it and then I need to teach my child.

The second part of that statement has stuck to me as well. My father was a quiet man and was not in the habit of drawing attention to himself or making himself the topic of conversation. I, on the other hand, was irritated that I didn’t know very much about him and that he didn’t just, unprompted, broadcast all his stories to us. How simple it would have been to ask him some questions rather that sitting there waiting for him to open up.

I’m not bringing this up for the purpose of beating myself up, I have something else in mind. Do you have anyone in your life who is quiet by nature? Someone who is humble and not at all likely to make the conversation all about them? When you talk to them, is the conversation usually about you? Or do you ask them questions too?

I wonder how many people out there would be open books, if someone would just ask.

I’m paying more attention now, to see who’s waiting for me to ask them a question about themselves. I’m not advocating an interrogation, but a genuine interest combined with a couple questions could make a big difference.

 

Tune in tomorrow and I’ll treat you to Dad’s poem “Don’t Step on My Catheter!“