Beware the Impending Waddle

Long ago were the days when I could simply suck in my gut to feel skinnier. Long ago were the days when I could look down and see my butterfly tattoo under my belly button. I remember the days when I could easily bend down to shave my legs. It seems like just yesterday I found out I was pregnant. That was in July of last year. Now it's a new year and the second month in... I feel like I've been pregnant for three years.

Just a month ago, I was saying that I don't mind being pregnant. I actually like it. I like the feeling of growing a baby, the shape of my bulging belly, and the attention that being "fruitful" brings. Now, with less than 8 weeks to go, I'm ready to stop feeling so mid-section heavy. I swear my belly leads the way. I've already warned people of the impending doom of my waddle. I'm trying so hard not to walk like a Weeble, but it's getting more and more difficult.

Doctor says I've only gained 28 pounds since the beginning of my pregnancy. I think she's just being nice. She knows the stress I've been under. I kind of wish I had never heard how low my number is, because now I think I subconsciously feel I now have a license to eat. I've been so good for so long... why not get some McDonald's fries?? So what if my butterfly tattoo looks more and more like a great Bald Eagle?? But I must stop myself. I've been blessed with no stretchmarks yet, I want to try to keep it that way.

It still feels so surreal that I'm actually carrying a baby. Some days I feel so average. I forget I'm carrying a baby... Not long enough to order a margarita, but long enough where I think, "dang, man, how much longer?"

We didn't do any birthing classes to get ready for this birth. It was going to cost $40 each to go, and quite frankly, with this economy, that was money we did not have. We've been watching "Baby Story" on TLC to get our knowledge up to speed. Yup, that's a scary show. Just like driving by a horrible car accident. It's so grotesque, but you can't help to rubberneck and look back at it anyway. This show has taught me that birth plans are useless: You never get what you want. Laboring women are handled like birthing cows. Doctors come in the room, barely say hello, shove their hand up the woman's hoo-ha, say how many centimeters, then leave. I just learned that a centimeter is about the width of a tip of a finger. I hope my doctor will have small fingers because I won't start giving birth until 10cm. Holy crap.

"Baby Story" has taught me that a lot of women try so hard to not have any drugs for their birth. I applaud their effort and admire their courage... but it is not for me. Especially when I see most of them "fold" and get the drugs they swore they wouldn't touch. I think that the drugs are here for a reason. I know people gave birth for thousands of years without drugs in our history. They've also had their teeth pulled without Novocaine. You won't catch me trying any of that. At least not this time. There are no extra gold stars in heaven for going through unnecessary pain.

I still can't believe that I'm going to have to give birth. I know that sounds kind of immature and juvenile, but I'm really in denial. I hope we can kinda skip the whole process and just put the baby in my arms. The big day is coming up so fast. I have no idea how to prepare. I'm not prepared. I think that even if we get our overnight bag ready, I have my focal point picked out, the due date is here, I will still be clueless what to do. I just hope that the doctors and nurses can direct me. I'm going to be like a deer caught in the headlights.

I hope to keep the birth lighthearted and try my best not to let any pain get the best of me. But that's a first-time mom with hopes that are highly unlikely. In then end, my birth plan consists of birthing a healthy baby. I don't care how it happens. As long as Brady is placed in my arms and I am doing okay, I don't care at all, how he is born. Until the day he is born, I will just sit here, in denial. Pretend that I just have to take a nap, they get the baby for me, I wake up, and my body is back to being just mine. That would be a nice dream...

My Heart Belongs to Boobies

So, after Xrays, Ultrasounds, blood work, exploratory surgery (as referred to by our main vet to his wife at a specialist clinic... I know, how convenient), Riley seemed to be the picture of health on paper. My original vet, Dr. Matt, could find nothing wrong with our dog. He has no viruses, no cancers, no diseases that he could see in his digestive tract. The only problem with that great diagnosis, is that he's been repeatedly throwing up now for weeks. He will eat, seem fine, then a few minutes to a few hours later, his belly would gurgle and he'd start to get drooly and hiccup. He suggested we try him on special food. He and his wife wanted to confirm it was not an allergy. We really doubted it was an allergy and wanted to just switch him back to the original food he had been eating since he was 8 weeks old. Of course, that would not bring them any income, so they said that wouldn't work and we had to buy a bag of their hypoallgergenic stuff. I imagine it tasted bad because no matter what we did, Riley would not eat it with joy, no matter how hungry he must've been.

We cooked plain white rice to hopefully absorb his stomach acids he must've had. We added chicken broth for flavor. He was not interested in anything other than his own food. There was no improvement in his vomiting, even with the hypoallergenic food and anti-vomit medicine. So, despite doctors' orders we fed him his original food again and discontinued all of his medications. It felt pointless to medicate something they had no diagnosis for. For all we knew, we were medicating something that he didn't have.

We've fed him Pedialyte to keep him hydrated from all of his vomiting, we've studied his bowel movements to look for improvements, I've stayed up all hours of the night to watch him and listen for him. I feel so horrible when he's struggling to not vomit and/or regurgitate. I watch to see if he starts to shake so I can give him some maple syrup for hypoglycemia. I've started to notice Brady's movement patterns have changed a bit. I can't sleep anymore from worry. I pray for him. I cry for him. I sob for him. I feel so helpless. He starts to feel nervous when I go near him as he knows he shouldn't vomit in the house. I never punish him, but it seems to be one of those things where a good housebroken dog feels bad for upsetting the everyday workings of a household.

Frustrated and almost $4000 later, we decide to go for a second opinion. I was referred to a very nice veterinarian, Dr. Stenzel, near my home. Kyle and I bring Riley there for a general opinion. Of course, we had already been to specialists and another vet so he was a little intimated that we went for a second opinion from a general vet. He immediately thought to try a fecal exam. None of our previous vets even thought to do that. Costed just $10, and no one thought to do it. He thought maybe parasites were causing his vomiting. Nothing was found in the stool sample. Then Dr. Stenzel thought to do a barium Xray of his esophagus. Apparently, large breeds can get problems with their throats. I was amazed this was never an option for the specialist or the original vet, Dr. Matt, to try.

We agree to the barium Xray and find out Monday morning that Riley has megaesophagus. Dr. Stenzel showed us the Xrays and we could see that his esophagus was enlarged tremendously. Seems to be that his muscles stopped working in his throat and it became extremely enlarged. He can not swallow his own food. A barium Xray usually has to be done quickly to get accurate results, as it usually flows through the throat and stomach quickly on a healthy dog. Four or five hours later, Riley still had the barium in his throat. Seems that his esophagus does not contract like a regular one does. It looked like an empty kielbasa casing in his body. Or a tube sock. It was grossly too large. I could see why he had problems with swallowing.

When a dog gets Mega E, they will never be cured. Puppies can sometimes fair okay if caught in time, and there have been examples of the condition reversing. Older dogs, like Riley, who happens to only be four, will not ever have a case of reversal. His food will sit in his throat until he gets agitated and he will regurgitate it back up. Regurgitation should not be confused with vomiting, although, he does sometimes vomit. Regurgitation is a passive approach to expelling food from his body. He does this more than vomit, as most of his food does not reach his stomach. It just sits in his throat. Dr. Stenzel compared what he must feel to eating a large bite of food and it just seems to hang out in your throat. Then, after that feeling passes, if he is lucky to have food go to his belly, he gets to salivate excessively and feel nauseous. Dr. Stenzel recommended with great concern for my ever-growing belly with baby, that we let Riley go.

Too devastated to make that decision right then, we scooped up our boy and left the office. We know that the doctor is only recommending what he would do for his own dog. He said that even if we tried to help Riley eat, that he can still get aspiration pneumonia. This is a result of the chronic regurgitation that will lead to him inhaling food particles to his lungs. He will have to be treated for that when/if he gets it. After reading up on this condition, it seems that this sickness tends to always be a result. The doctor seemed to feel that this would be an ongoing problem for Riley. He said with a baby on the way, and the amount of money we already put into figuring out what was wrong, was a lot. It was almost worse not knowing what is wrong with Riley.. But now that we do know, I feel such tremendous guilt in knowing we hold his life in our hands. Either we can work to try to figure out what will work to help him keep his food down, or we will let him go.

I felt the best I can do for first baby boy, Riley, is to try. We've been trying to wet his dog food first, before eating it.. He does not seem to like that. Then we allow him to drink water from a hamster-type of bottle, so he has to stretch his neck out to get it. After feeding him in as much of an upright position as we can manage, we have him "hug" Kyle while standing up for at least ten minutes after each feeding. We try to get his neck and belly in as much of a vertical position as possible. There have been thoughts that gravity can help to push the food to his stomach. We give him ice and have also tried canned wet food (more density and more water in the food) to see if that helps. I feel that we have to at least try. He's our baby boy. We have to try. If our child had a disease, we would not just put him down. I know most people would say you cannot compare a dog to a child. But I do. I have been crying for him more than I would for most humans.

A dog never steals, lies, cheats, hurts you on purpose. A dog never sins. So the fact that he can get a disease which can mean his demise is so heartbreaking to me. And to play "God" is very hard on me as well. He has his moments when he is just plain old puppy-duppy Riley, aka Boobies. He's our boy. Then he gets moments (probably from low blood sugar) where he gives us a 1,000 mile stare. He's not himself. We can't play his favorite game of tire for too long, as that will make him thirsty, and we can't let him drink too much water or he will regurgitate. ---------------------------------------------------

----A couple of days have passed and we have decided to let Riley go. I don't know why we call it "letting him go", as he might not have wanted to go. He was just so uncomfortable. His weight was dropping off so quick. He wheezed and gurgled and looked so sad. I just know how I feel when I get nauseous and I couldn't bear to watch him feel that way... all the time. We tried to have him stand up on a chair and eat off the counter. That worked for his morning and afternoon feeding. Then, a dinner feeding would push him over the edge. The total amount of food served was no where near enough to nourish an 80 pound Labrador. He couldn't even drink water.

I asked God for a sign for what to do. I know a lot of people would have let him go with the first news of the condition that he suffered with. I wanted to at least try. I wanted to know, in my heart, that we gave him a fighting chance. It was when we took him on our regular afternoon walk, which he loves and would suck up any pain whatsoever to go, that I feel I got my first sign. Just a few minutes into the walk, he threw up three times. Most of it was mucus and foam, and a lot of it was food. Possibly from the previous hours in the day. He looked so miserable. I felt so bad for him that I even praised him for vomiting. I wanted him to know I love him. That seemed to be a first sign for me. A sign that something he loves and cherishes so much like his daily walk is now affected. He can't even enjoy that.

He seemed okay for a while after the walk. Then evening came and the gurgling and gagging continued. Nothing would seem to help him. We've tried antacids, and anti-vomiting medicines. We have steroids. We have a doggy pharmacy now. Nothing works because nothing will stay in his stomach. We've seen many undigested pills in his vomit. They never even seem to reach his stomach to do him any good. His esophagus is just too enlarged.

While sleeping, Riley threw up on the futon he was sleeping on with Kyle. Then a few more times on the bedroom floor, and in the hallway. It seemed like nothing would settle his stomach. He could not get any comfort. I was reminded of what our vet told us to think of what it's like to take a big bite of food and have it sit in our throat for a while. Riley's throat feels that all the time. Then if/when it gets to his stomach, any slight irritation will cause him to feel nauseous. Then he will get the "juicies" and drool from feeling so sick. His nose was drying out, and his left eye started to look really aggravated. Probably from all of his vomiting and regurgitation.

The next morning we awoke to a very hungry Riley. I couldn't tell if the gurgling sounds I was hearing were from nauseousness or from a lack of food. Our boy was starving. He was thirsty and starving. We couldn't even nourish him. I wanted to go a full week or possibly two, of trying to feed him standing upright and then holding him up for ten minutes after every meal. I wanted to let myself know that we did everything we could. I felt a week was fair to him. Or so I thought. The more the days past and I knew that no food was getting into his belly, the more I realized that I wasn't keeping him around for him. I was doing it for me. I wanted him here. I wanted to keep him as long as I could. Suddenly I realized that it was unfair of me to keep him here, starving, thirsty, sick... It was turning into more of a punishment for him. My desire to keep him on Earth was literally eating him up.

I also started to think about the fact that Kyle really wanted to protect his family. I haven't had a full nights' sleep in weeks. Since before we started doing our tests, surgeries and Xrays. My heart wretched every time Riley vomited because I didn't know what was causing it. I never seemed to get more than an hour at a time at night. It was a miracle I made it through each work day at all. I felt more delirious than after a long party night of drinking. Add being almost 8 months pregnant on top of that, and I was extremely out of it. I've started to notice that Brady's patterns are different now. He used to kick and squirm like clockwork. I started to notice that he was moving more during all hours of the night. Most likely due to my getting up to either check on Riley or to clean up his mess. I started to realize it was unfair to not let Kyle protect his family. We were starting to worry that my crying and stress was affecting our baby.

I dreaded this morning. I did not want it to come. I knew it was inevitable. No matter what we tried, we were not going to be able to save our baby boy. I felt so helpless and useless. I still feel that way. I went to work today. I watched Kyle play with Riley's tire with him. I took a video of it. I wanted to remember Riley that way. He loved his tire. He loved to catch and to play. Lately, he barely has interest in things he used to. His favorite blue ball was too much work to look for, playing and running around the house was a lot of work. At least we could get him to play with his tire. He was really great at catching it in the air and would usually out run any throw. I took a few pictures of him while he played. That's when Riley is Riley. Then, since we had to fast him for twelve hours before his vet visit, we could not feed him. I had to hide the fact we were feeding Monkey. I felt so horrible.

Last night, after a few hours of gurgling in his stomach and wheezing, he vomited. It had a smell of fecal matter. I really think that it was just the beginning of more possible problems he would have had to face. Megaesophagus is said to be a result of another underlying condition. If he had a neurological disorder forming, it was only a matter of time before something else took his life. I sometimes feel like I am just trying to convince myself that we did the right thing. I think more about what we did do for him and how hard we tried. I think of the different routes we went for him. If Dr. Stenzel had not been able to diagnose Riley, we would have went to another vet and another vet.. Until we found out what it was. We could not go on hearing that nothing was wrong with him based on tests, but he was still vomiting and losing weight. That was almost more stressful than hearing what the disease was.

Some websites that I have researched say that Mega E can be managed. Some dogs get this condition and can survive with it. I believe that to be true. I believe in miracles too. I just don't think that was in the cards for Riley. We did what the sites suggested we do. We fed him and held him upright for every meal. We went as far as to burp him. No amount of burping or talking to him, or walking, or letting him sleep, seemed to help him. Food was just not going to go where it needed to. I feel that maybe his condition was worse than we initially thought, as this seemed to progress rapidly. He started just regurgitating from time-to-time after eating. We thought that was caused from eating too fast. Then he began to regurgitate a short period of time after eating.. we thought he might be sick. It seems like just a week later he was vomiting all of the time. Nothing was staying down. Then after all the ultrasounds and surgeries before our final diagnosis, we saw it worse than ever. He threw up at least 5 times a day. We did have one day of no vomiting.. but it only lasted 19 hours and we didn't really feed him much, out of fear he would get sick again. One slight trigger of water from a bowl on the floor and he threw up all he had in his body over the course of the night and next day.

Our boy has been missing now, spiritually, for at least a month. I look back at some pictures I had taken over the past few months to look for clues. I had no idea he would get so sick so fast. I had no idea that we would ever have to decide to let our four-year-old puppy go. I had no clue how much I could hurt over our puppy. He will always be a puppy to me. I choke back tears just thinking of how much we loved him and how much he loved us in return.

I try to believe that maybe he was going to get this disease no matter what. When we picked out the little boy puppy with the fish collar (they called him "fish boy"), it was meant to be. We would show him more in four years than a lot of dogs would have seen in a lifetime. Maybe it was God's way of giving him a quality of life. He could have very well have been adopted by another family. Not to say we gave him the best life ever, but we did do our best to always include our boy in things when we could. I find peace in sayings that quote "it's not the quantity of a dog's life, but the quality".

In Riley's short life, he's been to Norfolk, VA (largest Navy base in the world) and to the Chesapeake Bay for a swim. He saw his first snowfall in Norfolk. He learned how to walk properly without sniffing all over the place in Virginia. I still chuckle over the memory of Kyle getting so aggravated with his puppy behavior during a walk, that he picked him up and carried him, muddy paws and all, on his shoulders back to our home. He learned to love his tire there. He took care of me when Kyle had deployments and went underway for days, weeks or months at a time. He helped me to not feel so alone. We'd have staring contests. I swore he could understand me.

We moved to Iowa and Riley got to learn to be a snow blower and push his nose through the white fluffy snow. He loved when it snowed. He got to be our best friend when times were hard. Kyle had a hard time finding a job and Riley kept him warm and cuddled on the floor with him when it was cold. Riley was there to party with us when we were too broke to go out, and too bored to just sit and stare at the wall. He was a party animal with us. He went to his very first dog park in Des Moines. He loved it. Socializing was something he needed a bit of training in, as he thought it was appropriate to hump every dog that came his way.

We left Iowa for Clearwater, Florida, and Riley came with us here. He was there to squish in between our seats in a Budget truck that carried our whole life of belongings. He curled up in a ball and never once annoyed us. He was such a good boy. He got to swim in the Gulf of Mexico and the Tampa Bay. He's been swimming in a pool. He's lived a dog's life.

I think, in the end, we were really each other's best friend. He was there for us. I hope that he realizes that we tried so very hard to be there for him. I couldn't be there for him today as he laid to rest. Kyle took him for me. He promised me that he would let Riley ride in the front seat of the truck so he could hang his head out the window. He promised he would say nothing but kind words and "good boy" to him today. He played tire with him. He said he would go in with him for his final shot. He would comfort him and let him know he loved him. As the vet lay Riley down to sleep, I hope that Riley realized we loved him. I hope he felt no pain. I hope it was quick. I hope he's in Heaven now and will wait for us.

There is no handbook for the right thing to do. The more I talked to people about this painful decision, the more I learned I was not alone in having to decide. It has to be done sometimes. It's just such a shame he had to go so soon. Then, again, it would be no easier if he left us a few years from now. I would love him no less.

I know that I will miss him a lot. Our family is empty without him. He is our Boobies and he always will be. There will never be another Boobies. I will not allow it.

Gemini

5/21 – 6/21

Overview

Whether or not your realize it, your actions affect the world around you. The patterns of your behavior cause ripples around you, and influence how other people behave -- especially today, when you are with people who can be very, very easily influenced. Take this responsibility seriously and don't do anything that could set a bad example for others. This shouldn't be very difficult for a good person like you, but it should be something to keep at the front of your mind.

25 Tid Bits

1. I am pregnant with my first son, but this is not my first pregnancy. I lost my first one a year ago... It will be almost a year exactly from when Brady is expected to be born. I like to think that things go full circle and Brady will be born to represent the love we have for him and for our first conception.

2. It irritates me when people say the word "height" with the "TH" at the end, instead of the "T". You wouldn't say weighth, now would you?

3. When I was a child, I wanted to be an artist. When I learned you can't make money with art, I wanted to be a pediatrician. Now, I'm neither, and still have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.

4. I am a total dog person. Big dogs are my favorite. The bigger the better.

5. I LOVE sports and beer. My favorite sports are NFL, College football, and baseball. Pair a sport with a Bud Light and I'm in heaven.

6. I bite my nails. Have been since I was a child. I was never a thumb sucker.

7. Symmetry is important to me. An off-center picture on the wall will really bug me. Things have to be aligned and straight. Funny thing is, my two front teeth are crooked and I don't care.

8. I can watch design shows on TV all day long and never get up from the couch except for food and bathroom breaks.

9. Music is so important to me and so many songs have a way to speak straight to my heart. I love a good country song with a great story line.

10. Sometimes I miss CT, VA and IA. Then a calm winter experience in FL makes me grateful to be where I am. I have conflicting thoughts about where I live at least once a week.

11. There is a reason for everything, and just because I can't see it, doesn't mean that things won't work out how they should. I always try to find the silver lining. Dwelling on difficult situations really only makes them worse.

12. I would love my husband no matter what he did for a living. If he was a professional manure scooper or a top-notch lawyer, I would love him the same. As long as we have a roof over our heads, food in our bellies, and electricity for warmth, I will be happy. I might want more, but I know that sometimes all you really need is just what you have, and no more.

13. Even though I just stated in #12 that I know we don't need a ton of money to be happy, Kyle and I still play the Lotto every once in a while to daydream about what we would have if we ever won.

14. I really miss Margaritas. It's been almost 8 months now, since I've had one. My family thinks that I am joking when I say that I want one as soon as Brady is born. But I'm serious.

15. I am so grateful for all the great people in my life, far and wide. I have been supported so well by my friends and family from far away states in such ways that I have never felt alone.

16. My grandmother is truly one of my best friends. I love her so much and am really glad she's so young and only in her sixties. She will be in the delivery room when Brady is born. This will be her first birth experience, as she was put under for her children, and has never been to the births of her grandchildren.

17. I get on breakfast kicks. I can eat grits everyday for months and it won't bother me. Then I'm tired of it and will eat waffles everyday, then bagels. The only exception is weekend breakfast, where anything goes.

18. We really only eat Cracker Barrel when we are with my Dad and Dorothy. I don't think I've ever had it without them. It's a great place, but I think subconsciously I reserve it as a tradition with them.

19. My sister-in-law, my Gemini twin, is pregnant for the first time. We are doing this "together", even though we are thousands of miles apart... Although, she's got double duty. She's carrying twin girls and I couldn't be more happy for her. We're starting a family generation together.

20. I love Taco Bell, and could probably eat it everyday... Give me a bean burrito and nobody gets hurt.

21. Now that I'm pregnant, I don't think Tom Cruise is as psycho as I thought he was when he bought his wife an ultrasound machine. I find myself constantly wondering what the heck Brady is doing in my belly.

22. I love that I am from a large family. I think that when my dad got remarried to Dorothy, I was truly blessed with a group of wonderful people. I love my step siblings as my own brothers and sisters. We may not be blood, but we are family. I think it was a divine marriage of the two families. My half brother from my mom's remarriage is more proof that sometimes it is better for unhappy parents to divorce and find love again.

23. I'm a tolerant conservative. Is there such a thing? I might not agree with what you do, but I try my best to not judge.

24. I am NOT an 80s music fan. I dislike most of it.

25. When I was little I wanted to be a twin and for my name to be Samantha. So glad there's only one of me... As for my name, I love that I'm A-MAN-da! :)