Fun at the ER

My sister, Gabrielle, predicted that we would be in the hospital the day before Thanksgiving. She figured this would be perfect timing as it was the day most likely to disturb her turkey eating plans. It turns out that Gabrielle was correct; Ryan and I did indeed spend some time in a hospital Wednesday night. However, it was not for babies, in fact, it was not for humans at all. Ryan and I spent a few hours at the emergency vet for our dog Cooper. Why you may ask? Well, it began with a fetish and ended with what I can only imagine to be a painful experience (Don't worry, Cooper is fine). Here is the story...

Cooper is a lab puppy. Lab puppies like to eat things. Ayla, our older dog likes to wear pretty dog collars. Cooper likes to eat pretty dog collars. As a result, Ayla was going through about a collar a week and eventually, as Cooper's skill level increased, a collar a day.

To save Ayla from the torture of having her neck dragged around on a regular basis we invested in a spiked collar. It seemed a good choice, Cooper's chewing fetish was deterred and Ayla was no worse for the wear (although she did look deceivingly tough). This plan worked for about two months. However, the appeal of the collar was eventually too much for Cooper to resist.

We returned home on Wednesday evening to find two happy dogs--only one of them wearing a collar. Ryan searched high and low for the missing collar but could only find the buckle end. We couldn't believe that Cooper would eat spikes (how crazy could she be?) but we took her to the emergency vet just in case. Needless to say the technicians found her quite amusing and they thoroughly enjoyed her x-ray--which showed 13 triangular spikes floating amidst the kibble in her stomach.

The doctor was able to get 12 of the 13 spikes out by forcing Cooper to revisit the meal she had just ingested but one of the spikes stubbornly refused to be removed. It looks like that one would have to come out the old fashioned way. Seeing as excrement is not safe for the handling of pregnant women (oh darn) Ryan was put on "spike hunting" duty (no pun intended) for a couple of days. Luckily, his hunting was not in vain because, as of this evening, Ryan successfully located his prey and Cooper is officially spike-free.

I'm not sure if they have a 12-step program for Cooper's addiction but until we find a better (and less painful) cure than a spike collar Ayla will just have to rely on her microchip and do without.



THE INFAMOUS SPIKE

A message for babies...

Just in case Arnold and Danny were confused about what their next move should be... I spelled it out for them with Raisinets. Just saying.

24 hours of fun!

I have a story for you all, but first--my apologies to all that read my blog. Although I have been on maternity leave for about two weeks I have still been slacking on my posting. On the plus side, you should all be getting a much overdue thank you note soon as I finally had time for those.

On to my story... Ryan and I went to our 34th week appointment in Davis a few days ago. Everything went fine, the girls (yes, both still girls) looked good and their heartrates were identical (136 BPM). Anyway, it seemed like a pretty standard appointment until the doctor hit me with this one on her way out the door.

Doctor: It looks like both babies are in a great position to be born naturally, you shouldn't have any trouble. [pause] I should warn you though that once the first baby comes out the other one [interrupted by Brittaney--I'm so rude]

B: May turn?

Doctor: Well, yes, that and also you sometimes have to restart labor to encourage them to make their way into position in the birth canal. You know, sometimes it can be up to 12 hours between twins. They could have different birthdays! [big smile and she exits]

EXCUSE ME! I did not sign up for two 12 hour labors! I mean, twins. Sure. Two babies coming out on the same day. I have come to terms with that one. Two babies needing to be fed. Check. Two babies needing to have their diapers changed. Ryan prepare yourself. I mean, I thought I had it all figured out and then she hits me with 12 hours in between Danny and Arnold! I'm sorry but that just is NOT happening.

To ease my fears of 12 hours in stirrups and a drafty hospital gown I decided to do a little research and figure out how common this really is. I was able to find a few resources, none of which mentioned this 12 hour nonsense, thank you very much. For instance, Robin Elise Weiss, a doula practicing since 1989, states that:

"The average time between the birth of the first and second baby is generally about 17 minutes."

I like Robin Elise Weiss.

I mean, I am even willing to take one for the team and be on the high end of the average. I'm up for a good nineteen minutes! However, I will not sit passively by for 12 hours. I mean, Dr. 2x4 (long story) reach in there and PULL HER OUT!

Arnold and I have been having some talks lately. I have informed her that a 12 hour layover in utero is not acceptable. I think she understands what is expected of her and I am fully confident that she will do her part to hold up her end of the bargain. Sure, some of you may think I'm being a little tough, she is only a fetus after all, but seriously, Arnold is going to have to learn at some point that when Mommy says, "time to go," she means, NOW.