Blog a la Cart

Of gratitude and cheesecake.

Yesterday, James and I drove north to Dartmouth Medical Center – a 5-hour round trip – because we needed to get another assessment of The Sesame Seed’s “mildly enlarged kidneys.” And because I’m a snob. When asked whether I wanted to go to Albany or Dartmouth for the appointment, I opted for the extra two hours and some Ivy League care. And yes, that’s gross, but y’all, my mother was giving me a hard time for not demanding to go to Beth Israel Hospital in Boston.

It’s genetic. The snob thing.

Anyway.

I spent the majority of the evening prior eating a block of fudge, smothering Addison and the dogs in kisses and snuggles, and insisting that James rub my feet to keep me from playing Dr. Google. In the morning, we rode in anxious silence, hands resting together for comfort.

We started with a consultation with a genetic counselor. She ran through our family medical history, drawing fancy family trees and marking them with various symbols to map out our likelihood of having a baby with a genetic disorder.

Something aside from the snobbery she’s sure to inherit. And the stinky asparagus pee. And size 11 feet.

During the session, the counselor discussed the possible indications of an enlarged kidney.

All I heard was, “Down Syndrome.”

I spent the rest of those two hours in the hospital mentally preparing myself for the news that I was to be a mother to a severely disabled child. I excused myself to the bathroom before the ultrasound and gave myself a pep talk. James and I could do this. It was going to be okay. No matter what, we love this baby, and we were going to be amazing parents regardless of her mental and physical abilities or disabilities.

The genetic counselor said that in addition to reassessing her kidneys, the tech would look for physical signs on her face and neck that might be indicators of Down’s.

During the ultrasound, the tech couldn’t get a good picture of her face. She had me rolling from side to side to try and flip her around. Now, if you’ve ever been pregnant, you know that shifting from one side to the other is less than comfortable, let alone graceful. So there I am, covered in that ultrasound goop which is like having a liter of Astroglide dumped on your belly, flopping from side to side, pants shoved so far down in an effort to get a decent picture that the world can clearly see that I have not attended to my bikini line in quite some time.

Oh, the dignity of it all.

After much squirming and rolling and picture taking, the tech sighed and said, “I’m going to excuse myself. Just lie as far onto your stomach as you can. I’ll be back.”

I assumed that she had seen something not normal when she measured the Sesame Seed’s face, something so upsetting that she had to retrieve the doctor to confirm and convey the news. For 15 minutes, I lay like a greased watermelon on that table, plumber’s crack toward the sky, bracing myself.

When the doctor appeared, she said that she just wanted to take a look herself.

– Oh lord, here it comes…

“What a cute little girl you have here. Just look at the face. Oh, and you can see she already has hair…”

– Alright, she’s trying to soften the blow…

… pushing and prodding of ultrasound probe on the belly…

– This is worse than Seacrest on Idol during the elimination round…

“Well…everything looks wonderful. Both kidneys appear normal-sized. She looks to be about 2 lbs, so large for her gestational stage, but given your and your husband’s height, and the size of your first baby, that’s not surprising. Any questions?”

… Big, GIANT, sigh of relief and gratitude…

… and then the waterworks…

“You mean, she looks healthy? Normal? Okay? Do we need to come in again? Do we need to keep an eye on it?”

“Nope. Everything looks great. Unless something new comes up, the next time you see her will be the day that she enters the world.”

And then James and I went and bathed our relief in cheesecake.

We have pictures documenting her budding head of hair, just like her big sister. And a money shot of her lady parts which the ultrasound tech labeled “I AM A GIRL.”

And then her face. Her sweet sweet little face (smooshed against my uterus, but sweet nonetheless) and her profile.

Hi, Little One. We’ll see you soon.

Hex Nut Bracelet

Kimmy recently sent me a link with the subject line: “DIY meets Home Depot!”

Needless to say, I was intrigued.

I clicked and was taken to Honestly… WTF. How I had not discovered this fabulous niche of the Internet earlier, I do not know. The specific link that Kimmy had sent to me was for a DIY Braided Hex Nut Bracelet. It’s inspired by the line of Hex jewelry by Giles & Brother.  At $175 a bracelet, I can see the appeal of tackling a DIY version.

The Giles & Brother’s Hex Bracelet for $175

I headed to the local hardware store and picked out 18 hex nuts in a silver brush finish. The man at check out asked me what I was using them for because they might not fit what a traditional hex nut fits due to their finish. I laughed and told him I was using it for a jewelry project and thus did not need them to serve a functional purpose. For a whooping $2, I was on my way to a Hex Nut Bracelet of my own. You can head on over to Honestly… WTF for the full tutorial.

This is what my process looked like. I’m so rocker mom, not soccer mom, eh? It’s certainly not as refined as the Giles & Brother’s version, but a fraction of the cost.