I am so very annoyed with a certain book I’m reading right now that I don’t know quite what to do about it. You see, I have always fully intended on receiving an epidural during labor. I still do, but because I like to be over prepared, I signed my husband and I up for birthing classes using the Bradley method. The teacher recommended that I read a book entitle Husband-Coached Childbirth, written by Dr. Bradley himself, who developed the Bradley method way back in the 1940’s.
I fear I have made a mistake investing in this book.
I’m sure that the breathing techniques I will learn, and the coaching techniques that Brett will learn will be helpful, but I can’t quite stomach the premise the dear Dr. Bradley gives us. You see, he begins his book talking about being raised on a farm and witnessing many a farm animal birth and wondering why those births seemed so pleasant and unassisted, where as human births need assistance and seem a lot more painful. He thinks it’s because we are not listening to our animal instinct. I think he should have watched PBS a little bit more.
I, admittedly, have not studied biology since (embarrassingly) high school, but I do know a couple of things: (1) Human babies have enormous heads, way bigger proportionally than any other mammal; and (2) Humans stand upright and therefore our pelvises had to change shape and size as opposed to animals who walk on all fours. These two factors make human childbirth a very different experience than any other animal. A much more difficult experience, in fact. You know where I learned this? Watching Nova, that’s where.
I also happen to know that many a time, cows need help in the birthing process. In fact, my husband was part of a calf birth that required the use of scary looking chains and I’m betting that that poor cow would have preferred the aid of an epidural and was not silently breathing, but instead mooing her pained head off.
All in all: F you Dr. Bradley.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Thursday, May 07, 2009
DONUT
I just ate a donut and it was about the best thing I have ever had in my life. For about a week now, my appetite has increased. I’m a bit nervous about this, because not only do I not want to gain a lot of weight with this pregnancy, but I’m also not supposed to. The doc thinks I’d be fine with the lower end of the weight gain range, and while that’s sort of embarrassing to hear in front of your husband, it’s fine. I mean, if you saw me, which you have, in pictures, you probably wouldn’t say I was obese, but you know, I’ve got some meat on my bones. Also, in case I haven’t brought this up enough already, my boobs are the size of boulders, mountain sized boulers. All in all, I am a sturdy woman and am in no threat of wasting away if I don’t eat a donut.
However, I am hungry. So hungry. What I should do is actually bring healthy snacks to work so that I don’t eat the donut, but that would entail an actual trip to the grocery store, and if there’s one thing I hate, it’s grocery shopping. So boring.
I guess I’ll just make up for it with a very healthy lunch and then cringe when I get on the scale at the doctor’s this evening.
We’re having our 12 week ultrasound/sonogram thing tonight and I’m nervous and excited. So nervous because I am a worrier and I worry that something has gone wrong in the past 3 weeks. There is no reason for my worry, I just like to keep it slowly simmering under the surface. I’m excited because we will hopefully hear a heart beat and get a good glimpse of the baby, which never gets old.
In a few months, when the baby is here, I’ll be so excited that I no longer have to have a wand stuck up my vagina, or gel slathered over my belly in order to look at my baby. That will be nice.
I talked to my uncle last night, the crazy one married to the aunt who was less than congratulatory upon hearing the pregnancy news. Anyway, he lectured me about responsibility and that OUR LIVES WILL CHANGE FOREVER. Why do people do this? As if we don’t know. Oh my God, my eyes are still sore from all the rolling they were forced to do during that conversation. Of course, the man was drinking a gin and tonic during the conversation, which was, no doubt, not his first. I have a special family.
However, I am hungry. So hungry. What I should do is actually bring healthy snacks to work so that I don’t eat the donut, but that would entail an actual trip to the grocery store, and if there’s one thing I hate, it’s grocery shopping. So boring.
I guess I’ll just make up for it with a very healthy lunch and then cringe when I get on the scale at the doctor’s this evening.
We’re having our 12 week ultrasound/sonogram thing tonight and I’m nervous and excited. So nervous because I am a worrier and I worry that something has gone wrong in the past 3 weeks. There is no reason for my worry, I just like to keep it slowly simmering under the surface. I’m excited because we will hopefully hear a heart beat and get a good glimpse of the baby, which never gets old.
In a few months, when the baby is here, I’ll be so excited that I no longer have to have a wand stuck up my vagina, or gel slathered over my belly in order to look at my baby. That will be nice.
I talked to my uncle last night, the crazy one married to the aunt who was less than congratulatory upon hearing the pregnancy news. Anyway, he lectured me about responsibility and that OUR LIVES WILL CHANGE FOREVER. Why do people do this? As if we don’t know. Oh my God, my eyes are still sore from all the rolling they were forced to do during that conversation. Of course, the man was drinking a gin and tonic during the conversation, which was, no doubt, not his first. I have a special family.
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
Almost lunch time
Last night Brett and I went to bed while it was still light outside. Brett wound up with a sinus infection and is on these nasty antibiotics that ravage his insides, and I am simply tired, all the time.
I read about 3 pages of my book and promptly feel asleep. All went according to plan until midnight when my body woke me up with THE WORST GASTROINTESTINAL PAIN OF MY LIFE. I was literally moaning in agony. I was also very worried because it felt a lot like cramps, which you know, aren’t a good thing to feel when you’re 11 weeks pregnant. I was a little bit freaking out, which I am wont to do, and in my midnight stupor, I sort of didn’t know what to do. Then it occurred to me that perhaps I should go to the bathroom. That’s when things really got interesting, and painful, and luckily it was all over in about 20 minutes. But oh my God, that was painful and awful and I can’t think of what I ate that would cause that level of distress because my entire diet consists of starch, apples and a few slices of Jarlsburg cheese for protein. Seriously, that’s it. I have the world’s worst diet right now.
The only thing I can think is that one of the perks of pregnancy is chronic constipation, and maybe my body just got so sick of being backed up that it orchestrated a very dramatic exit strategy. I don’t know. I’ll ask the doc on Thursday when we have our 12 week appointment. According to Dr. Google, it’s normal and fine and the baby was not harmed in the event, but mama sure was!
In other news, I want to make out with our new fence. A crew of four very skilled, very non-English speaking men spent all Friday putting our fancy new fence up. They did one hell of a job. I love it. It really highlights the fact that the rest of the yard is in poor shape, but at least we’re on our way to making it pretty. We basically spent the entire weekend shopping for the yard and plotting our strategy for Operation-Out-Do-Thy-Neighbor. We literally spent $200 on various seeds, sprays and lawn patches. Between our daily garden center sprees and the $3,100 dollar fence, our yard to soon to be worth more than the actual structure of the house. That’s fine, I think Brett would spend every moment outdoors if he could anyway.
Oh and the worst thing, which I had almost pushed out of my mind, is that fact that my car required $617.00 worth of stupid repairs yesterday. Is there anything worse than car repairs? No. In fact, we’ve decided that this is the final repair for the old girl. As much as I hate the idea of a car payment, that $617.00 is about two of them, so I’m sorry, but if anything else goes wrong, it’s good-bye Hyundai that has seen me through 5 states, 7 addresses and my first stab at adult life, and hello to something shiny and new. She just has to make it through the summer. Please!
I read about 3 pages of my book and promptly feel asleep. All went according to plan until midnight when my body woke me up with THE WORST GASTROINTESTINAL PAIN OF MY LIFE. I was literally moaning in agony. I was also very worried because it felt a lot like cramps, which you know, aren’t a good thing to feel when you’re 11 weeks pregnant. I was a little bit freaking out, which I am wont to do, and in my midnight stupor, I sort of didn’t know what to do. Then it occurred to me that perhaps I should go to the bathroom. That’s when things really got interesting, and painful, and luckily it was all over in about 20 minutes. But oh my God, that was painful and awful and I can’t think of what I ate that would cause that level of distress because my entire diet consists of starch, apples and a few slices of Jarlsburg cheese for protein. Seriously, that’s it. I have the world’s worst diet right now.
The only thing I can think is that one of the perks of pregnancy is chronic constipation, and maybe my body just got so sick of being backed up that it orchestrated a very dramatic exit strategy. I don’t know. I’ll ask the doc on Thursday when we have our 12 week appointment. According to Dr. Google, it’s normal and fine and the baby was not harmed in the event, but mama sure was!
In other news, I want to make out with our new fence. A crew of four very skilled, very non-English speaking men spent all Friday putting our fancy new fence up. They did one hell of a job. I love it. It really highlights the fact that the rest of the yard is in poor shape, but at least we’re on our way to making it pretty. We basically spent the entire weekend shopping for the yard and plotting our strategy for Operation-Out-Do-Thy-Neighbor. We literally spent $200 on various seeds, sprays and lawn patches. Between our daily garden center sprees and the $3,100 dollar fence, our yard to soon to be worth more than the actual structure of the house. That’s fine, I think Brett would spend every moment outdoors if he could anyway.
Oh and the worst thing, which I had almost pushed out of my mind, is that fact that my car required $617.00 worth of stupid repairs yesterday. Is there anything worse than car repairs? No. In fact, we’ve decided that this is the final repair for the old girl. As much as I hate the idea of a car payment, that $617.00 is about two of them, so I’m sorry, but if anything else goes wrong, it’s good-bye Hyundai that has seen me through 5 states, 7 addresses and my first stab at adult life, and hello to something shiny and new. She just has to make it through the summer. Please!
Friday, May 01, 2009
Today is Okay
Today I am feeling GOOD. Like really good. A little nauseas, but nothing I can’t handle.
Yesterday was just plain old stupid. Brett was a total sweetheart of course, and after he read my email he offered to drive to my office (an hour away) just to give me a hug. Obviously that would have been ridiculous, but it was nice to hear nonetheless.
In other baby related business (for there is no other now), we have recently begun telling all of our friends about our pregnancy and mostly it’s been all positive. I mean, it has been all positive, but I do have one friend who has been trying to get pregnant for over two years. She and her husband have been seeing a fertility specialist for over a year and she’s had all sorts of procedures, tests, taken numerous medications, and nothing has worked. I was kind of nervous to tell her I was pregnant because, well, if I were her it would be kind of difficult to hear that your friend got pregnant on the first try. This is especially annoying since one of our other good friends is also pregnant and all of her siblings have recently had babies.
I called her the other night and just blurted it out, because I am tactful like that. She was congratulatory, but really didn’t want to hear much about it. I understand. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for her and I really wish she could have some good news. She’s got a great life in general and a career she loves, which is something I don’t have, but not being able to get pregnant must be incredibly frustrating. Especially when everyone around you seems to be knocked up.
It’s funny the way some people react to the news. My aunt, for example, who is a little bit crazy to begin with, had the worst response out of all informees. She has no children of her own and because of this, is particularly invested in the lives of my sister and me. She is also married to a complete wack job. I mean, truly, a man with some problems. Anyway, when I told her she said, “Are you sure you want to do this?” Um, excuse me? Is that not the stupidest response ever? I mean, I’m telling you when I’m 10 weeks pregnant, I think that choice portion of the pregnancy is pretty much over, and also, YES, of course I want to do this you mean cow.
Sorry, I didn’t realize how angry I was about that comment. But truly, why do people say the things they say? Even if you think it’s a bad idea, just be happy for me and leave your judgment for behind my back.
On the lighter side, I am recently obsessed with, of all things, Toaster Strudels. I crave them in the morning, and I try not to have them every day because they’re, you know, bad for you. However, the idea of a healthy breakfast often makes me want to cry. In fact that idea of vegetable in general makes me want to cry. I have had salad twice since becoming pregnant, and both times I’ve gotten sick and puked. I have no issues with fruit, in fact I find apples, strawberries and grapes absolutely delicious, but vegetables are evil. Good thing I can stomach the vitamins.
Have a happy weekend. Brett and I are going on a proper date tonight involving dinner out and a viewing of Hugh Jackman and my secret boyfriend from Friday Night Lights. Yippie!
Yesterday was just plain old stupid. Brett was a total sweetheart of course, and after he read my email he offered to drive to my office (an hour away) just to give me a hug. Obviously that would have been ridiculous, but it was nice to hear nonetheless.
In other baby related business (for there is no other now), we have recently begun telling all of our friends about our pregnancy and mostly it’s been all positive. I mean, it has been all positive, but I do have one friend who has been trying to get pregnant for over two years. She and her husband have been seeing a fertility specialist for over a year and she’s had all sorts of procedures, tests, taken numerous medications, and nothing has worked. I was kind of nervous to tell her I was pregnant because, well, if I were her it would be kind of difficult to hear that your friend got pregnant on the first try. This is especially annoying since one of our other good friends is also pregnant and all of her siblings have recently had babies.
I called her the other night and just blurted it out, because I am tactful like that. She was congratulatory, but really didn’t want to hear much about it. I understand. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for her and I really wish she could have some good news. She’s got a great life in general and a career she loves, which is something I don’t have, but not being able to get pregnant must be incredibly frustrating. Especially when everyone around you seems to be knocked up.
It’s funny the way some people react to the news. My aunt, for example, who is a little bit crazy to begin with, had the worst response out of all informees. She has no children of her own and because of this, is particularly invested in the lives of my sister and me. She is also married to a complete wack job. I mean, truly, a man with some problems. Anyway, when I told her she said, “Are you sure you want to do this?” Um, excuse me? Is that not the stupidest response ever? I mean, I’m telling you when I’m 10 weeks pregnant, I think that choice portion of the pregnancy is pretty much over, and also, YES, of course I want to do this you mean cow.
Sorry, I didn’t realize how angry I was about that comment. But truly, why do people say the things they say? Even if you think it’s a bad idea, just be happy for me and leave your judgment for behind my back.
On the lighter side, I am recently obsessed with, of all things, Toaster Strudels. I crave them in the morning, and I try not to have them every day because they’re, you know, bad for you. However, the idea of a healthy breakfast often makes me want to cry. In fact that idea of vegetable in general makes me want to cry. I have had salad twice since becoming pregnant, and both times I’ve gotten sick and puked. I have no issues with fruit, in fact I find apples, strawberries and grapes absolutely delicious, but vegetables are evil. Good thing I can stomach the vitamins.
Have a happy weekend. Brett and I are going on a proper date tonight involving dinner out and a viewing of Hugh Jackman and my secret boyfriend from Friday Night Lights. Yippie!
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Feelings
I’m having a rough day today. I spent my hour long commute fighting off tears and now that I’m at the office I’m continuing my reign of crazy. Just to illustrate, there are window washers here and I started crying when they came in to wash the windows in my office because my desk is such a mess that they couldn’t even get to the windows to wash them. These gentlemen didn’t even speak English and couldn’t explain to them why I was upset. I suppose that even if they did speak English it would be difficult to explain the crazy to them.
If only I was showing already so folks would sort of give me a break, maybe.
I don’t even know what’s wrong, except everything. Last night I couldn’t sleep because our dog is on antibiotics and they make his stomach upset and he puked on the bed. Brett got upset and there was some stress and then I was AWAKE with the stress. I am very sensitive to the STRESS of every living being in our house. Apparently Bear now bit open his scab on his rear end wound and bled all over the other blanket that he didn’t puke on. I feel so sorry for him, and also STRESSED because I know it upsets Brett and that makes me anxious. Also, there is only so much laundry a family can tolerate.
I am crazy.
Brett called this morning and we had a chat about aforementioned dog issues and I couldn’t even tell him anything honest, so I had to email him. I had to email my own husband the truth about my STRESS and propensity to cry and not sleep. I just couldn’t do it live and in person because I was afraid that he would just get annoyed with me or exacerbated or just wouldn’t care. My husband is a very kind man, so that would probably not be the response, but this is the anxiety level I’m talking about.
I had to email my own husband with a statement of feelings. What?
Then again, we do sometimes have to write things down, even when I’m not hormonally crazy because we both have a hard time getting our words out sometimes.
I’m just feeling really raw and also swollen as my finger fat is puffing out above my wedding ring and my face is now the size of an overripe pumpkin.
This is why I like reading about babies and watching “A Baby Story” on TLC. It reminds me of why my body is doing this and why my heart is 10 sizes too big and all together too sensitive.
If only I was showing already so folks would sort of give me a break, maybe.
I don’t even know what’s wrong, except everything. Last night I couldn’t sleep because our dog is on antibiotics and they make his stomach upset and he puked on the bed. Brett got upset and there was some stress and then I was AWAKE with the stress. I am very sensitive to the STRESS of every living being in our house. Apparently Bear now bit open his scab on his rear end wound and bled all over the other blanket that he didn’t puke on. I feel so sorry for him, and also STRESSED because I know it upsets Brett and that makes me anxious. Also, there is only so much laundry a family can tolerate.
I am crazy.
Brett called this morning and we had a chat about aforementioned dog issues and I couldn’t even tell him anything honest, so I had to email him. I had to email my own husband the truth about my STRESS and propensity to cry and not sleep. I just couldn’t do it live and in person because I was afraid that he would just get annoyed with me or exacerbated or just wouldn’t care. My husband is a very kind man, so that would probably not be the response, but this is the anxiety level I’m talking about.
I had to email my own husband with a statement of feelings. What?
Then again, we do sometimes have to write things down, even when I’m not hormonally crazy because we both have a hard time getting our words out sometimes.
I’m just feeling really raw and also swollen as my finger fat is puffing out above my wedding ring and my face is now the size of an overripe pumpkin.
This is why I like reading about babies and watching “A Baby Story” on TLC. It reminds me of why my body is doing this and why my heart is 10 sizes too big and all together too sensitive.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
The Dictator
I know, I've been all sorts of dead to the Internet world for months, and now I'm back with a vengance. But we were keeping this whole baby thing very very quiet, and now we're allowed to talk about it, so I'm alive with the sound of my own typing.
Here's the thing, I love that I'm pregnant. Love it! I have never been more happy about anything in my whole life. However, I am physically miserable. Every day I feel like crap and, I didn't know it was possible, but I hate my body more than ever and I'm not even showing yet. Thus, it is remarkable that I'm still all sunshine and flowers. I must really want this kid.
I have taken to calling the fetus (it's a fetus now, according to "What to Expect") "The Dictator." It dictates things after all, from what I eat to the fact that I now nap on a regular basis, which is completely NOT something I would normally do.
Maybe the name will change over the course of the pregnancy, but right now it's The Dictator.
Brett has been great, though he's been sick with one thing after another himself, so he's not exactly cheerful these days. Poor guy. Also, with both of us not feeling tip-top, the house is looking like a project for that dude on Oprah that clears out clutter. It's bad. However, we did break down and contract a fence installation for the back yard. This was HUGE because Brett prefers to do things himself, but with all the projects we have going on and the fact that we're both struggling, paying for the work seemed the prudent thing to do.
BORING.
The dogs have been exciting in a very unfortunate way. Millie, the little poodle, was diagnosed with and underdeveloped vulva in the summer of 2007. Some lady dogs have this problem, and it causes incontinence when she sleeps. We had it under control with daily estrogen supplements, until we went to Texas in March and boarded the dogs at the vet. Ever since then she's had almost nightly accidents. We took her back to the vet and they did an exam and x-ray and found nothing. We've basically decided that it's like some sort of PTSD as a result of us leaving her. She is nothing if not incredibly sensitive and very very attached to her humans. Thus, we are trying to cure her of it like it's a behavioral problem and not a physical problem, because apparently that's what it is. She now has to wear this little denim diaper to bed, and when I get up to pee for the fourth time in a single night I will take her outside. So far so good, but odds are that just by writing this I am jinxing us.
Bear, our pomeranian, was not to be outdone. Last Thursday, I was at the office when Brett called to indicate that Bear had "a problem." I was about to leave early because I had come down with a cold and on top of the nausea it was just too much to take. When I got home I saw that Bear had a bloody rear end. Cue freak out and call to the vet. They couldn't get him in for a few hours, so I sat with him wrapped in a towel on the couch. Poor little guy. When the vet finally did get him in they took one look at him and said that he had an abscessed anal gland. Yummy! A week later, he's still on the mend with a very nasty looking butt wound and some high test pain killers and antibiotics.
We love them anyway. It's all good training.
Brett's got exams next week, and eyes so blood shot he looks like he's permanently stoned. I will be very happy when next Thursday comes and he is done with his last exam and we have our final doctor's appointment of the first trimester and hopefully we will hear a strong and healthy heart beat.
The Dictator needs some sort of carbohydrate now. Ta ta.
Here's the thing, I love that I'm pregnant. Love it! I have never been more happy about anything in my whole life. However, I am physically miserable. Every day I feel like crap and, I didn't know it was possible, but I hate my body more than ever and I'm not even showing yet. Thus, it is remarkable that I'm still all sunshine and flowers. I must really want this kid.
I have taken to calling the fetus (it's a fetus now, according to "What to Expect") "The Dictator." It dictates things after all, from what I eat to the fact that I now nap on a regular basis, which is completely NOT something I would normally do.
Maybe the name will change over the course of the pregnancy, but right now it's The Dictator.
Brett has been great, though he's been sick with one thing after another himself, so he's not exactly cheerful these days. Poor guy. Also, with both of us not feeling tip-top, the house is looking like a project for that dude on Oprah that clears out clutter. It's bad. However, we did break down and contract a fence installation for the back yard. This was HUGE because Brett prefers to do things himself, but with all the projects we have going on and the fact that we're both struggling, paying for the work seemed the prudent thing to do.
BORING.
The dogs have been exciting in a very unfortunate way. Millie, the little poodle, was diagnosed with and underdeveloped vulva in the summer of 2007. Some lady dogs have this problem, and it causes incontinence when she sleeps. We had it under control with daily estrogen supplements, until we went to Texas in March and boarded the dogs at the vet. Ever since then she's had almost nightly accidents. We took her back to the vet and they did an exam and x-ray and found nothing. We've basically decided that it's like some sort of PTSD as a result of us leaving her. She is nothing if not incredibly sensitive and very very attached to her humans. Thus, we are trying to cure her of it like it's a behavioral problem and not a physical problem, because apparently that's what it is. She now has to wear this little denim diaper to bed, and when I get up to pee for the fourth time in a single night I will take her outside. So far so good, but odds are that just by writing this I am jinxing us.
Bear, our pomeranian, was not to be outdone. Last Thursday, I was at the office when Brett called to indicate that Bear had "a problem." I was about to leave early because I had come down with a cold and on top of the nausea it was just too much to take. When I got home I saw that Bear had a bloody rear end. Cue freak out and call to the vet. They couldn't get him in for a few hours, so I sat with him wrapped in a towel on the couch. Poor little guy. When the vet finally did get him in they took one look at him and said that he had an abscessed anal gland. Yummy! A week later, he's still on the mend with a very nasty looking butt wound and some high test pain killers and antibiotics.
We love them anyway. It's all good training.
Brett's got exams next week, and eyes so blood shot he looks like he's permanently stoned. I will be very happy when next Thursday comes and he is done with his last exam and we have our final doctor's appointment of the first trimester and hopefully we will hear a strong and healthy heart beat.
The Dictator needs some sort of carbohydrate now. Ta ta.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
great with child, pea in the pod, bun in the oven, pregos, what have you . . .
I am a little over 10 weeks pregnant. It’s pretty much awesome except for the parts that suck, like the nausea, HUGE hurty boobs, needing to pee all the time, and lack of ability to stay awake for more than 2 hours at a time. I’m like a text book case of first trimester symptoms. I’m not complaining at all though, it’s so exciting and I can’t believe that we’ll be parents in a few short months.
The way I found out was kind of stupid. I mean, I took a pee test on March 19th, before work. I get up really really early, like 4:30am early, so when I got a positive result I was a little befuddled. It’s hard to really understand anything at 4:30am, so wrapping my head around a positive pregnancy test was a little much. I left for work without even telling Brett, mostly because I wasn’t convinced that it truly was positive. I mean, the line was definitely there, but it seemed a little “light,” so I was skeptical.
Luckily there is a Walgreens but feet from my office, so once I got to work I bought three more tests. When all of them came up positive, I was mostly convinced and called Brett and told him that I had a positive test. I didn’t tell him I had 4 positive tests, because, you know, that would be crazy. I then called the doc and got an appointment that afternoon.
Brett met me at the doc after work and we had our first ultrasound. I know that’s not normal operating procedure, but I hadn’t had a period since October because of the Lupron treatment, so it was necessary to determine how far along I was. The ultrasound showed a little block dot in a white blob. I was definitely pregnant with something, even if it wasn’t really looking much human yet. They determined I was due on November 24th and sent me off for my blood tests.
About two weeks later I started getting nauseous and so tired. I could nap for three hours in the afternoon, and then still go to bed at 9pm and sleep a full 8 hours. Brett was sort of amazed, but I kept reminding him that I’m growing a person, and that his physical part is over, so he should let me nap.
The nausea has been by far the worst. It’s unrelenting on some days, and then gone on some other days. I thought I was out of the woods last week, as I felt no nausea for about 4 days straight. But then it came back on Saturday night and hasn’t really let up since. I’m just hoping that it goes away by week 13 so that I can enjoy the second trimester.
I haven’t gained any weight yet, thank goodness, because I’m not really supposed to as I’m pretty well padded to begin with. I have gained some girth in the boob area, which is extremely frightening because that’s already where I carry most of my weight to begin with. It’s horrifying actually. I already told Brett that after we’re done with babies, I am immediately getting a reduction. I don’t care about cost. I am so over these things.
We’ve since had two more ultrsounds. The last one actually looked like a baby, which was so awesome. I get all teary every time and we have print outs of the ultrasound pictures on our fridge. It’s so cool. Seriously.
We did watch a Nova episode about the “miracle of birth” or somesuch. I did fine until the part where the lady actually gave birth and they showed it. All I said was, “I am not doing that.” I know, I will do it, but oh my god, why does it have to be so difficult. I mean, I get that my pelvis has to be small in order for me to walk upright, but it seems like nature should have done a little better job of accommodating us womens and our childbirthin’ needs. I’m just glad I live now and live in a first world country. I salute all women who do it the “natural way,” but I will hopefully be receiving drugs and any sort of ameliorative care the hospital wants to offer. I am no hero.
The way I found out was kind of stupid. I mean, I took a pee test on March 19th, before work. I get up really really early, like 4:30am early, so when I got a positive result I was a little befuddled. It’s hard to really understand anything at 4:30am, so wrapping my head around a positive pregnancy test was a little much. I left for work without even telling Brett, mostly because I wasn’t convinced that it truly was positive. I mean, the line was definitely there, but it seemed a little “light,” so I was skeptical.
Luckily there is a Walgreens but feet from my office, so once I got to work I bought three more tests. When all of them came up positive, I was mostly convinced and called Brett and told him that I had a positive test. I didn’t tell him I had 4 positive tests, because, you know, that would be crazy. I then called the doc and got an appointment that afternoon.
Brett met me at the doc after work and we had our first ultrasound. I know that’s not normal operating procedure, but I hadn’t had a period since October because of the Lupron treatment, so it was necessary to determine how far along I was. The ultrasound showed a little block dot in a white blob. I was definitely pregnant with something, even if it wasn’t really looking much human yet. They determined I was due on November 24th and sent me off for my blood tests.
About two weeks later I started getting nauseous and so tired. I could nap for three hours in the afternoon, and then still go to bed at 9pm and sleep a full 8 hours. Brett was sort of amazed, but I kept reminding him that I’m growing a person, and that his physical part is over, so he should let me nap.
The nausea has been by far the worst. It’s unrelenting on some days, and then gone on some other days. I thought I was out of the woods last week, as I felt no nausea for about 4 days straight. But then it came back on Saturday night and hasn’t really let up since. I’m just hoping that it goes away by week 13 so that I can enjoy the second trimester.
I haven’t gained any weight yet, thank goodness, because I’m not really supposed to as I’m pretty well padded to begin with. I have gained some girth in the boob area, which is extremely frightening because that’s already where I carry most of my weight to begin with. It’s horrifying actually. I already told Brett that after we’re done with babies, I am immediately getting a reduction. I don’t care about cost. I am so over these things.
We’ve since had two more ultrsounds. The last one actually looked like a baby, which was so awesome. I get all teary every time and we have print outs of the ultrasound pictures on our fridge. It’s so cool. Seriously.
We did watch a Nova episode about the “miracle of birth” or somesuch. I did fine until the part where the lady actually gave birth and they showed it. All I said was, “I am not doing that.” I know, I will do it, but oh my god, why does it have to be so difficult. I mean, I get that my pelvis has to be small in order for me to walk upright, but it seems like nature should have done a little better job of accommodating us womens and our childbirthin’ needs. I’m just glad I live now and live in a first world country. I salute all women who do it the “natural way,” but I will hopefully be receiving drugs and any sort of ameliorative care the hospital wants to offer. I am no hero.
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