This post is long long long, but I left a lot of details out of Kermit's birth story, and I need to get them written down somewhere I can read them later. (But, I didn't want them integrated with his birth if they didn't have to be, because ick! let's focus on the cute baby for that one!) Details like, in what ways did it matter that I didn't give birth vaginally? How was the c-section? Did they put everything back where it goes, or is my bladder in a subtly different place than it was before?
The answers are: Lots of ways. It sucked. Things definitely feel a bit scrambled in there.
More details? Yes, I do have more details! If you insist.
First, I'll just mention that the nurses at my hospital are clearly not used to dealing with women who do not want a c-section, despite a non-trivial number of women attempting VBACs at this hospital on a regular basis. I can't possibly be the only woman they've ever dealt with who wanted a vaginal birth but didn't get one. And yet every nurse greeted me with something along the lines of, "You're here for your scheduled c-section! You must be very excited to be having surgery today instead of going through all the hassle of a vaginal birth!" When the first person said this, I didn't respond, because my eyes filled with tears and I didn't trust myself to speak. With the second person, I informed her that I actually would prefer the hassle, thankyouverymuch, but it didn't end up being feasible for me. I'm not sure how I expected her to respond to this... probably something like, "Oh, I'm sorry it didn't work out. We'll do our best to make this experience as positive for you as we can." That would have been reassuring. Instead, she tried to convince me that this way would be so much easier and more convenient for me. Which was exactly why I was upset, so it was exactly the wrong thing to say. Anyway, that nurse must have made a note in my file ("Crazy woman wanted VBAC instead of the nice convenient surgery") because every other nurse who came into my room, even ones who were just dropping off linens, gave me a speech that started with, "So I understand that you're a little reluctant about your c-section today" and then proceeded to tell me why surgery was oh so very convenient. In a voice that very much implied that only a naive little girl would be reluctant to give birth surgically.
Blech.
I'm definitely not a granola hippie type person, and I've always shrugged off people who believe that giving birth in a hospital automatically means that you'll be steamrolled by the uncaring medical establishment, blah blah blah. That whole outlook on hospital births was nothing like my experience giving birth to LL -- I had a doctor who listened to me, provided me with well-researched information, and ultimately let me call the shots about my own care; I had supportive nurses who asked how I wanted to be treated with regards to labor assistance, and then followed through on my wishes; the default behavior at the hospital is that all babies room in with their mothers; fathers are considered on equal footing with mothers, and are thus not considered "guests," which means that they can always spend the night if they want to; it is assumed that all mothers will breast feed, and formula is never offered unless it is explicitly requested by the parents. Basically, everything that the anti-hospital-birth people complain about... none of it matched with my experience with LL. But hearing nurse after nurse try to convince me of the virtues of a c-section, when I very obviously did not want it... um, yeah, I get it now.
Anyway, once everything was set for the c-section, I managed to get myself into a good mental place where I just wanted to meet little Kermit, regardless of how it happened. The c-section was, ultimately, medically necessary, so let's just go ahead and do it. And as I mentioned in Kermit's birth story, my hospital actually does a lot of things to make it easier on c-section moms, so that they don't miss out on as much of the post-birth stuff. A lot of these polices were actually new since LL was born, so I was pleasantly surprised. For example, when LL was born, he was immediately whisked off to the nursery. The nurse held him up next to me for 10 seconds so that I could get a quick glimpse and S could snap a quick picture of me with him, and then I didn't see him for nearly an hour, during which he was weighed and examined and bathed and dressed and everything else they do during those first precious minutes. I hate the one photo I have of me with LL immediately after his birth. The nurse was holding him at an angle to get us both in the photo, but that meant that I couldn't actually see him at all. In the photo, I'm trying to smile for the photo, but it looks like a horrible grimace because I'm really attempting to crane my neck to see his face, which is exceedingly difficult to do while you're unable to move and someone two feet away is still holding your uterus outside of your body. This time around, I got to see him as he was being born. He was cleaned up ever so slightly, the bare necessity of stuff was done (apgar scores and very little else) and then he was brought immediately to my side, where I got to touch him and hold him and stroke his face for as long as I wanted. They didn't do anything else to him until after my surgery was over, so that I could take part. Fantastic improvement over LL's birth.
Before having this c-section, Dr. M had assured me that a lot of things would be better than LL's birth. Since this was a scheduled c-section, instead of an "OMG, after 23 hours of labor the baby is stuck like a big round peg in a much smaller pelvic opening and he's turning purple we have to get him out now" c-section, the surgery itself would be much easier. None of that "push the baby back out of the birth canal so we can reach him" stuff that made my recovery the first time oh-so-fun. None of the body trauma from the long labor and several hours of pushing. Easier surgery. Easier recovery. He promised.
To summarize: that was not my experience.
This c-section was definitely completely different than what I remember with LL, but not in a good way. The birth itself was very similar, but once the baby was out, things diverge tremendously. I remember feeling very little during the 30 minutes it took to close me up last time; I mostly remember being rather bored and wanting to get out of there so that I could see my baby. This time around, I was consumed with the terrible tugging and pulling going on at my lower half. It felt awful. It's hard to describe the sensation of your body being tugged and pulled in a million different directions, internally, while you're unable to move. I can't use the word "painful" because the spinal does block pain down there, but it was intensely uncomfortable and unsettling. I also started feeling dizzy, and out of the corner of my eye, I watched my own stats on the monitor to see my blood pressure dropping down down down.
The anesthesiologist offered to give me something to make me sleep through the rest of the surgery, but I declined, because I wanted to be completely alert as soon as they were done, so that I could nurse. A few minutes later, I started to experience horrible chest pain that got worse and worse. I panicked a bit because, um, what happened to not feeling any pain? The anesthesiologist added some other type of pain killer, which dulled it a bit (he promised it was referred pain, and not a heart attack, which is what it felt like) but it also made me even more dizzy, and my blood pressure continued to drop. The tugging and rummaging seemed to go on and on, as I repeatedly asked how many more layers they had to go. It really sucked. Which surprised me, because I expected the recovery to suck, but not the actual procedure. Over and over in my head was the thought that thank goodness Kermit was here and healthy, but this whole surgery thing was clearly a mistake. I just desperately wanted to be out of there.
When I finally got to recovery, all I wanted to do was to sit up and nurse Kermit. When they took my stats, though, they discovered that my blood pressure was still very very low, and my temperature was also low and continuing to drop. They would let me sit up a little, I would get very dizzy, and they would immediately lie me back down. Thus, my first nursing experience with Kermit involved me lying flat on my back with hot towels wrapped around my head in an effort to bring up my core body temperature. (It didn't work; when I left the recovery room two hours later, my body temp was still hovering near 95, which is a bit insane, and my blood pressure was barely double digits. In retrospect, I'm not sure how I was even conscious.)
I was in that condition for the rest of the day. My L&D nurse asked me what one thing she could do for me that would make my life better, and I said, "I want to get up and walk around!" Nope, not gonna happen. "How about at least letting me sit up?" And she looked at my stats, and smiled apologetically, and asked if there was anything she could do for me that wouldn't make me faint. (Side note: I'm lying in a bed with rails. Why does it matter if I faint? It's not like I'm going to fall into anything or bump my head, and I'm sure I'd come around again eventually. I'm kidding, but only barely.)
Anyway, the surgery sucked. I'm not a squeamish person; I can watch my own blood being drawn, and I have no fear of surgery or anesthesia or any of the rest of it. Yet the last 30 minutes or so of Kermit's c-section ended up being one of the more terrifying things I've ever been through, as the chest pain consumed me and my abdomen was pummeled from within and I thought I was going to pass out and my blood pressure dropped lower and lower. And the rest of that day, as I struggled to sit up despite continuing low blood pressure and low temperatures, also sucked.
The next morning, my stats were still low, but no longer in the scary range, and I was allowed to sit up and eat a little and get out of bed. After LL's birth, this was when things were just starting to suck, because the recovery from labor + surgery was long and hard. But I'd been promised that recovery this time around would be much easier, so part of me actually started feeling like maybe the worst was behind me. Except that my recovery was worse than last time, too, for unknown reasons. It does seem to have been faster -- I wasn't able to move around normally until 8 weeks last time, which meant two full months of no driving and no lifting things and trouble standing up or getting out of bed. This time around, I felt like I reached 85% recovery by the one-month mark, and I kind of ignored that last 15% and just returned to my life, so that was definitely an improvement. But that first month was much worse than last time. It's almost as if my two months of pain from last time was just intensified and shoved into a shorter period of time. Is that better and easier? Um.... not sure. I was definitely in a lot more pain for that entire month. But maybe it's just an indication that, last time, I got off easy.
I had my six weeks post-partum appointment last week, and I know that I'm definitely better now than I was at six weeks post-partum with LL, so I guess that's something. And the remaining effects from the surgery (loss of nerve sensitivity for several inches around the incision; intense pain on my lower left side when I do anything more strenuous than walk from the living room to the bathroom; extremely weak ab muscles that give out when I carry Kermit for more than five minutes) are apparently completely normal, and can be expected to continue for another 4-6 weeks.
So, overall, while I'm thrilled that Kermit is here and healthy (recent hospitalization for respiratory distress aside), and that I will eventually be completely healthy as well, I can't say that things went as I expected. And while I'm grateful that c-sections are an option -- having a c-section certainly saved both my life and LL's life two years ago -- I'm left wondering why the hell anyone would choose a surgical birth voluntarily. S and I haven't decided yet whether we will someday want to try to have a third child, but I hate beyond measure that my birth experience with Kermit is inevitably going to color that decision for us.
Showing posts with label side effects. Show all posts
Showing posts with label side effects. Show all posts
Friday, February 25, 2011
Friday, November 19, 2010
Take a Hike
The downside of living off-campus while a grad student at a mostly residential university is the lack of convenient parking. I have a parking permit that gives me permission to park on campus, but it doesn't guarantee that I will be able to find a parking space. Pair that with an overall lack of parking near my building, and it means that I generally have to walk approximately one mile from my car to my office. I've been doing this for a long time now, and I usually don't mind it. The weather is usually good, and I don't have much time for real exercise, so a nice walk twice a day isn't such a bad thing. But throw in lugging a heavy laptop and a stack of papers while dealing with hip and back pain from a third trimester pregnancy, and things get a bit awkward. I've been having trouble making it all the way to my office. And I know that things are just going to get worse over the next 7 weeks.
I mentioned this to Dr. M several weeks back, and he encouraged me to apply for a temporary disability parking placard. Simple DMV form, Dr. M signs it, and just like that, I can park in one of the dozen handicap parking spots that are always completely empty right outside my office. Problem solved!
So I sent in the form to the DMV, and waited for my placard. My hips got worse, my back got worse, and still I waited. The DMV promised that they generally process these things within two weeks, but it has already been much longer than that. When I woke up this morning unable to walk from my bed to the bathroom without painfully hobbling, much less walk a mile to my office, I decided enough was enough. So I called the DMV to check on why it was taking so long.
Skipping right past the part where I was on hold for a full 30 minutes, I finally got someone at the DMV on the phone, and I explained the problem. It turns out that they're "a bit backlogged at the moment," so that instead of taking two weeks to process the placards, it's currently taking them 8-10 weeks. So far, my application hasn't even been entered into the system. Keep in mind that these are temporary placards, which means that they're only good for a few months -- how are they useful to anyone if it takes 2-3 months just to process the request?!? By the time it arrives, I'll have given birth, so this is no longer of any use to me at all.
The woman did point out that I could get a new form, get my doctor to sign it again (they don't accept photocopies -- it needs to be an original signature, and the original is lost in DMVland at the moment, so I need to get a new one), and then take it in person to the DMV, where they will issue the placard same-day. However, I absolutely need to have an appointment; they will not process these requests if you just walk in and wait. And the next appointment at a DMV office within a 50-mile radius of my house is December 20, more than a month away. Again, not helpful.
At this point, I'm actually calculating how much it will cost me to park illegally for the rest of my pregnancy and just pay the parking tickets. Think I can write off parking tickets as a medical expense?
I mentioned this to Dr. M several weeks back, and he encouraged me to apply for a temporary disability parking placard. Simple DMV form, Dr. M signs it, and just like that, I can park in one of the dozen handicap parking spots that are always completely empty right outside my office. Problem solved!
So I sent in the form to the DMV, and waited for my placard. My hips got worse, my back got worse, and still I waited. The DMV promised that they generally process these things within two weeks, but it has already been much longer than that. When I woke up this morning unable to walk from my bed to the bathroom without painfully hobbling, much less walk a mile to my office, I decided enough was enough. So I called the DMV to check on why it was taking so long.
Skipping right past the part where I was on hold for a full 30 minutes, I finally got someone at the DMV on the phone, and I explained the problem. It turns out that they're "a bit backlogged at the moment," so that instead of taking two weeks to process the placards, it's currently taking them 8-10 weeks. So far, my application hasn't even been entered into the system. Keep in mind that these are temporary placards, which means that they're only good for a few months -- how are they useful to anyone if it takes 2-3 months just to process the request?!? By the time it arrives, I'll have given birth, so this is no longer of any use to me at all.
The woman did point out that I could get a new form, get my doctor to sign it again (they don't accept photocopies -- it needs to be an original signature, and the original is lost in DMVland at the moment, so I need to get a new one), and then take it in person to the DMV, where they will issue the placard same-day. However, I absolutely need to have an appointment; they will not process these requests if you just walk in and wait. And the next appointment at a DMV office within a 50-mile radius of my house is December 20, more than a month away. Again, not helpful.
At this point, I'm actually calculating how much it will cost me to park illegally for the rest of my pregnancy and just pay the parking tickets. Think I can write off parking tickets as a medical expense?
Monday, January 18, 2010
Project Status
Hey, did I mention that I started a round of clomid last weekend? No? Hmmm, interesting.
This cycle feels very weird to me. The last time I did this whole fertility treatment thing, it was my life. I got no work done, I was focused on every little twinge, I thought about little else. This time is ... different. Today is Cycle Day 11, and I've barely noticed. Lots of factors are keeping me from obsessing quite so much this time, including: (1) secondary infertility is a different sort of beast, at least for me; (2) side effects have been very mild this time around, which is actually making me a bit nervous about whether the medication is actually working; (3) it's hard to dwell on chemically-induced exhaustion when you're chasing a toddler; and (4) I'm much more busy at work right now than I was last time, so focusing on treatments really isn't an option.
The shocking lack of side effects is surprising, and an actual physical difference from last time. I've had a few hot flashes and a persistent headache for the last week, and I'm a bit light-headed, but other than that... nothing. No crying. No screaming at S. No forgetfulness. I feel amazingly close to normal. (Okay, the headache has sucked. But sadly, a week-long headache still fits into the "normal" category for me.) But the other differences are all about circumstance. Part of me is thinking gosh, if I had been busier at work last time, maybe getting pregnant the first time around wouldn't have sucked so much! But I know that's not true. I'm sure that people experience secondary infertility in different ways, but for me, there isn't the same desperation that I was feeling with primary infertility. There's less uncertainty, in a weird way, possibly because it just feels ... familiar. I'm more content to just go through the process without emotionally living and dying with the outcomes.
At least, that's how I'm blithely feeling on Day 11 of this year's very first medicated cycle.
I'm sure I'll be feeling very different with a boatload of failed cycles under my belt. And I actually have a lot more to say about secondary infertility compared to primary infertility, but in some ways, I don't feel like I've earned the right to talk about it yet. Or, to be perfectly honest, perhaps I should put it this way: I'd probably be an idiot to talk about it when I'm still so new to secondary infertility.
Anyway, whatever the reason, the fact of the matter is that I'm obsessing more about work than I am about getting pregnant. Things keeping me up at night right now:
1. I have had several rounds of interviews with a local company, but I haven't heard from them at all since before the holidays. I'm too chicken to send them an email and find out what's going on. Afraid of rejection much? Instead I'm just going to continue to mope about feeling unloved.
2. I submitted all of my tenure-track assistant professor applications. Now I wait. And wait and wait and wait. Typical numbers that I've been hearing for my field this year: each tenure-track job opening is getting approximately 500 candidates, for which they will interview 5 candidates, and make an offer to one. That's only a 1% chance of even getting an interview, much less an actual job offer. I'm really not loving those odds.
3. I have a conference paper due this week. I will need to submit it the day after my follicle check, possibly on the day that I'll be having an IUI, if all goes well. Now that I have a complete first draft of the paper, which I have sent out to my coauthors for review, I'm feeling remarkably calm about this. Even though I have received zero feedback from my coauthors.
4. On Saturday, LL learned how to open doors. My life is forever changed.
This cycle feels very weird to me. The last time I did this whole fertility treatment thing, it was my life. I got no work done, I was focused on every little twinge, I thought about little else. This time is ... different. Today is Cycle Day 11, and I've barely noticed. Lots of factors are keeping me from obsessing quite so much this time, including: (1) secondary infertility is a different sort of beast, at least for me; (2) side effects have been very mild this time around, which is actually making me a bit nervous about whether the medication is actually working; (3) it's hard to dwell on chemically-induced exhaustion when you're chasing a toddler; and (4) I'm much more busy at work right now than I was last time, so focusing on treatments really isn't an option.
The shocking lack of side effects is surprising, and an actual physical difference from last time. I've had a few hot flashes and a persistent headache for the last week, and I'm a bit light-headed, but other than that... nothing. No crying. No screaming at S. No forgetfulness. I feel amazingly close to normal. (Okay, the headache has sucked. But sadly, a week-long headache still fits into the "normal" category for me.) But the other differences are all about circumstance. Part of me is thinking gosh, if I had been busier at work last time, maybe getting pregnant the first time around wouldn't have sucked so much! But I know that's not true. I'm sure that people experience secondary infertility in different ways, but for me, there isn't the same desperation that I was feeling with primary infertility. There's less uncertainty, in a weird way, possibly because it just feels ... familiar. I'm more content to just go through the process without emotionally living and dying with the outcomes.
At least, that's how I'm blithely feeling on Day 11 of this year's very first medicated cycle.
I'm sure I'll be feeling very different with a boatload of failed cycles under my belt. And I actually have a lot more to say about secondary infertility compared to primary infertility, but in some ways, I don't feel like I've earned the right to talk about it yet. Or, to be perfectly honest, perhaps I should put it this way: I'd probably be an idiot to talk about it when I'm still so new to secondary infertility.
Anyway, whatever the reason, the fact of the matter is that I'm obsessing more about work than I am about getting pregnant. Things keeping me up at night right now:
1. I have had several rounds of interviews with a local company, but I haven't heard from them at all since before the holidays. I'm too chicken to send them an email and find out what's going on. Afraid of rejection much? Instead I'm just going to continue to mope about feeling unloved.
2. I submitted all of my tenure-track assistant professor applications. Now I wait. And wait and wait and wait. Typical numbers that I've been hearing for my field this year: each tenure-track job opening is getting approximately 500 candidates, for which they will interview 5 candidates, and make an offer to one. That's only a 1% chance of even getting an interview, much less an actual job offer. I'm really not loving those odds.
3. I have a conference paper due this week. I will need to submit it the day after my follicle check, possibly on the day that I'll be having an IUI, if all goes well. Now that I have a complete first draft of the paper, which I have sent out to my coauthors for review, I'm feeling remarkably calm about this. Even though I have received zero feedback from my coauthors.
4. On Saturday, LL learned how to open doors. My life is forever changed.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
And The Hits Just Keep on Coming....
LL is still on strike. Tomorrow will make it a full week. I spoke at length to a lactation consultant, who suggested continuing all of the things I was already doing, but taking a break for 24-48 hours from even offering him the breast. Honestly, though, I don't think she suggested this because it will help him to calm down... I'm pretty sure that she suggested it because it was making me too distraught to keep offering it to him over and over and over, only to be rejected over and over and over. But whatever. I didn't offer him my breast all day Tuesday, and then I tried again this morning, and I got the same reaction.
The lactation consultant also told me to start preparing myself for the possibility that he may never nurse again. I really didn't expect to hear this from a lactation consultant. She thinks that the root of the entire thing is the teething, which is also what I believe. But she also thinks that he won't want to nurse until after the top two teeth come in, which might not be for weeks. And because he's already so small, she thinks that we really have to keep offering him bottles for every feeding, to make sure that he gets enough food. And going that long with all bottles and no breast almost always makes babies never go back. So we're screwed. LL may never breast feed ever again.
As for my milk supply, she told me that I was still seeing a drop in production because I wasn't taking enough fenugreek, so she upped my dosage. She also warned me that I might experience an upset stomach from it, which explains a lot. I've had a persistent stomachache and headache for at least two weeks (or longer, I can't remember exactly when they started, though they've been a lot worse the last several days) and I'd been blaming it on stress. Yesterday, I also started to feel a bit faint, which seemed like it had to be from exhaustion and stress. Total misery.
Anyway, since LL is not nursing, there's technically no reason that I have to get up to feed him in the middle of the night, other than pumping, and I finally decided that sleep and stress reduction were becoming more important than my milk supply. So, last night, I decided that I would skip the middle-of-the-night pumping, just this once. I made a bottle for S to feed to LL at 4am, and then informed S that he was on his own until morning. And I slept all night long, for the first time in eight months. (Well, I did wake up a few times when LL was crying and S hadn't managed to soothe him yet, but I didn't have to get out of bed.)
I expected to feel better this morning, but I was still feeling dizzy and headachey. I tried writing a check for a bill that I had to pay, and I transposed numbers, added incorrectly, and misspelled the name of the company I was writing the check to. When I drove to work, I almost got into three separate car accidents, all entirely my fault. So then it finally occurred to me to look up side effects of fenugreek. The upset stomach I knew about. Migraine trigger is one that I probably should have seen coming. The ability to block absorption of NSAIDs like Advil explains why the headache hasn't gone away for several days. But holy crap I wish someone had mentioned that, in semi-rare cases, fenugreek can dangerously lower both blood sugar and blood pressure.
After seeing spots during my afternoon lab seminar, I had to call S to come to pick me up from work, because I didn't think that I was capable of walking to my car, much less driving it home. The room just kept spinning spinning spinning around me.
So... no more fenugreek for me. No more magic potion. If LL breaks his strike in the next day or two, I might be able to nurse him enough to bring my supply back up that way, but otherwise, I think we're at the end. Really not how I wanted my breast feeding experience to conclude, but there it is.
The lactation consultant also told me to start preparing myself for the possibility that he may never nurse again. I really didn't expect to hear this from a lactation consultant. She thinks that the root of the entire thing is the teething, which is also what I believe. But she also thinks that he won't want to nurse until after the top two teeth come in, which might not be for weeks. And because he's already so small, she thinks that we really have to keep offering him bottles for every feeding, to make sure that he gets enough food. And going that long with all bottles and no breast almost always makes babies never go back. So we're screwed. LL may never breast feed ever again.
As for my milk supply, she told me that I was still seeing a drop in production because I wasn't taking enough fenugreek, so she upped my dosage. She also warned me that I might experience an upset stomach from it, which explains a lot. I've had a persistent stomachache and headache for at least two weeks (or longer, I can't remember exactly when they started, though they've been a lot worse the last several days) and I'd been blaming it on stress. Yesterday, I also started to feel a bit faint, which seemed like it had to be from exhaustion and stress. Total misery.
Anyway, since LL is not nursing, there's technically no reason that I have to get up to feed him in the middle of the night, other than pumping, and I finally decided that sleep and stress reduction were becoming more important than my milk supply. So, last night, I decided that I would skip the middle-of-the-night pumping, just this once. I made a bottle for S to feed to LL at 4am, and then informed S that he was on his own until morning. And I slept all night long, for the first time in eight months. (Well, I did wake up a few times when LL was crying and S hadn't managed to soothe him yet, but I didn't have to get out of bed.)
I expected to feel better this morning, but I was still feeling dizzy and headachey. I tried writing a check for a bill that I had to pay, and I transposed numbers, added incorrectly, and misspelled the name of the company I was writing the check to. When I drove to work, I almost got into three separate car accidents, all entirely my fault. So then it finally occurred to me to look up side effects of fenugreek. The upset stomach I knew about. Migraine trigger is one that I probably should have seen coming. The ability to block absorption of NSAIDs like Advil explains why the headache hasn't gone away for several days. But holy crap I wish someone had mentioned that, in semi-rare cases, fenugreek can dangerously lower both blood sugar and blood pressure.
After seeing spots during my afternoon lab seminar, I had to call S to come to pick me up from work, because I didn't think that I was capable of walking to my car, much less driving it home. The room just kept spinning spinning spinning around me.
So... no more fenugreek for me. No more magic potion. If LL breaks his strike in the next day or two, I might be able to nurse him enough to bring my supply back up that way, but otherwise, I think we're at the end. Really not how I wanted my breast feeding experience to conclude, but there it is.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
It's Not Simple Like Knee Surgery
For today's topic, I'm going to briefly turn from the adorable newborn pretending to sleep in the next room, and instead focus briefly on me and my recovery from major abdominal surgery (as I am constantly being told), which has been a bit up and down.
My L&D hospital stay marked the first time I'd ever been admitted to a hospital for any reason, as well as the first surgery I'd ever had. To put it mildly, I was impatient to get home, get recovered, and get busy developing my new "normal." In the hospital, I was up and out of bed as soon as the nurses would let me, and I never looked back. I had horrible swelling in my feet and ankles, even worse than during my pregnancy, probably because I flatly refused to get back into bed and elevate them. The swelling didn't go down until somewhere around week two. (On a related topic: I have no shoes that fit. My entire pre-pregnancy shoe collection is too small, and my pregnancy shoes are about half a size too big. It sucks. But I digress.) Also, I hate how I feel when I take strong pain killers, so after the c-section, I was only on Advil. In retrospect, not my smartest decision.
For weeks after LL's birth, I felt okay when I was just sitting still, or even walking, but "transitioning" between states really sucked -- standing up, sitting down, shifting in a chair, getting in and out of bed... those were all excruciatingly painful for the entire first month. I also developed a horrible rash across my abdomen from the tape used to hold down the surgical sheet during the c-section.
Anyway, I apparently over-exerted myself during that first week, which caused repeated bouts of increased bleeding until my family intervened and ordered me to sit down already. (Or so I'm told... my labor and delivery are clear as a bell in my mind, but the two weeks immediately afterward are really blurry.) We had a rotation of family members staying with us for the first three weeks, and between them and S, I was carefully watched and kept from even pretending to do anything remotely strenuous. (Driving, lifting things, carrying things, bending over, sitting on the floor, kneeling.) There were advantages: I probably wasn't as exhausted as I could have been, and my incision seems to have healed quickly. Also, S got very good at changing diapers, since I had a hard time bending over to do it, so he's still handling the majority of the poop in our household. There were also, however, disadvantages: my abdominal muscles are completely non-existent now. The result right now is that I'm practically incapable of doing anything with my abs, and my back is really sore from compensating.
I had my 6-week post-partum doctor's visit this week, and I'll admit that I expected to be healed by the time this visit came along. Instead, the area between my incision and my belly button still feels really really tender, I'm still having a lot of vaginal discharge and bleeding (making me continually anemic, which is adding to the fatigue), and I still have to steel myself a bit to stand up out of a chair, get up off the floor, or roll over in bed. Dr. M says all of the above is normal, and when I asked when I could expect it to go away, he kept shrugging and saying, "A few more weeks." Sigh. But at least I'm now cleared for any and all physical activity, so I can start trying to build my abs back into shape. Never before in my life have I been excited to start exercising!
Also, good news: I've lost 23 of the 28 pounds I gained during my pregnancy. The bad news: once I lose those last 5 pounds, I get to focus on the 12 I gained during fertility treatments. And after that, I should really address the weight that I should have lost before even trying to get pregnant. But, um, yeah, one step at the time. For now, the frustrating thing is that, despite the weight loss, I'm still not really fitting into any of my pre-pregnancy clothing. My shirts are too tight around my breasts, which are huge from breast feeding, and my pants are tight around my hips, which is ironic, considering that my hips weren't wide enough to birth LL. At the same time, my maternity clothes are all way too big on me -- the shirts balloon down around my belly, and the pants continually fall down off my waist. Given the continued tenderness around my incision, I'm preferring the too big over the too small, but I feel hideous in everything I own. Blech.
Okay, enough about me. Next post returns to LL: his bris, his ongoing parade of admirers, and our attempts to get him onto some sort of sleep schedule.
My L&D hospital stay marked the first time I'd ever been admitted to a hospital for any reason, as well as the first surgery I'd ever had. To put it mildly, I was impatient to get home, get recovered, and get busy developing my new "normal." In the hospital, I was up and out of bed as soon as the nurses would let me, and I never looked back. I had horrible swelling in my feet and ankles, even worse than during my pregnancy, probably because I flatly refused to get back into bed and elevate them. The swelling didn't go down until somewhere around week two. (On a related topic: I have no shoes that fit. My entire pre-pregnancy shoe collection is too small, and my pregnancy shoes are about half a size too big. It sucks. But I digress.) Also, I hate how I feel when I take strong pain killers, so after the c-section, I was only on Advil. In retrospect, not my smartest decision.
For weeks after LL's birth, I felt okay when I was just sitting still, or even walking, but "transitioning" between states really sucked -- standing up, sitting down, shifting in a chair, getting in and out of bed... those were all excruciatingly painful for the entire first month. I also developed a horrible rash across my abdomen from the tape used to hold down the surgical sheet during the c-section.
Anyway, I apparently over-exerted myself during that first week, which caused repeated bouts of increased bleeding until my family intervened and ordered me to sit down already. (Or so I'm told... my labor and delivery are clear as a bell in my mind, but the two weeks immediately afterward are really blurry.) We had a rotation of family members staying with us for the first three weeks, and between them and S, I was carefully watched and kept from even pretending to do anything remotely strenuous. (Driving, lifting things, carrying things, bending over, sitting on the floor, kneeling.) There were advantages: I probably wasn't as exhausted as I could have been, and my incision seems to have healed quickly. Also, S got very good at changing diapers, since I had a hard time bending over to do it, so he's still handling the majority of the poop in our household. There were also, however, disadvantages: my abdominal muscles are completely non-existent now. The result right now is that I'm practically incapable of doing anything with my abs, and my back is really sore from compensating.
I had my 6-week post-partum doctor's visit this week, and I'll admit that I expected to be healed by the time this visit came along. Instead, the area between my incision and my belly button still feels really really tender, I'm still having a lot of vaginal discharge and bleeding (making me continually anemic, which is adding to the fatigue), and I still have to steel myself a bit to stand up out of a chair, get up off the floor, or roll over in bed. Dr. M says all of the above is normal, and when I asked when I could expect it to go away, he kept shrugging and saying, "A few more weeks." Sigh. But at least I'm now cleared for any and all physical activity, so I can start trying to build my abs back into shape. Never before in my life have I been excited to start exercising!
Also, good news: I've lost 23 of the 28 pounds I gained during my pregnancy. The bad news: once I lose those last 5 pounds, I get to focus on the 12 I gained during fertility treatments. And after that, I should really address the weight that I should have lost before even trying to get pregnant. But, um, yeah, one step at the time. For now, the frustrating thing is that, despite the weight loss, I'm still not really fitting into any of my pre-pregnancy clothing. My shirts are too tight around my breasts, which are huge from breast feeding, and my pants are tight around my hips, which is ironic, considering that my hips weren't wide enough to birth LL. At the same time, my maternity clothes are all way too big on me -- the shirts balloon down around my belly, and the pants continually fall down off my waist. Given the continued tenderness around my incision, I'm preferring the too big over the too small, but I feel hideous in everything I own. Blech.
Okay, enough about me. Next post returns to LL: his bris, his ongoing parade of admirers, and our attempts to get him onto some sort of sleep schedule.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Pumpkin
Yes, I'm still here, and still pregnant, at 40 weeks. I'm not exactly happy about it, but not a whole lot I can do about it, either. S and I have both marveled at how quickly I went from "Hey, pregnancy isn't so bad!" to "I seriously can't go on like this!" Because seriously -- I can't go on like this. Our five day triple-digit heat wave (once again, without A/C) is thankfully over, which is helping a bit, but I'm still so gosh darn uncomfortable that I'm finding it a bit hard to see the positives. I'm not sleeping, and I'm barely eating, thanks to near-constant heartburn. It hurts to sit, it hurts to walk, it hurts to lay down, it hurts to move. Even the smallest task, like getting in and out of a car, seems like a monumental undertaking. Everything about me is swollen.
It's strange to count down to a particular date for 9 months, and then that day comes and is just another day. Nothing is happening. And somehow, I had convinced myself that I would go into labor before my due date, so I never really wrapped my head around being in this position.
We have tried every old wive's tale that exists to try to induce labor. And yes, I do mean every single one. Even the incredibly uncomfortable ones (eg, spicy food does not induce labor, it just makes heartburn even worse). S has even taken to yelling at my cervix ("Dilate!!!") and my uterus ("Contract!!!") but they're both ignoring him. Still, it's healthier than yelling at the baby ("Leave!!!") which was his initial instinct. He does occasionally plead gently with the baby ("Please come out so we can meet you!") but it's only brought about swift kicks to my hip bones. We even tried the tempting-fate approach and hosted a small Monday Night Football party last night (Go Packers!) but alas, I didn't go into labor by halftime like I had hoped.
My 40-week appointment is tomorrow. Hopefully I'll be showing some more progress, but either way, we're going to have to have a conversation about induction. Suggestions on how to kick-start labor are more than welcome. Even silly ones. In the mean time, I'm off to continue bouncing up and down on a birthing ball.
It's strange to count down to a particular date for 9 months, and then that day comes and is just another day. Nothing is happening. And somehow, I had convinced myself that I would go into labor before my due date, so I never really wrapped my head around being in this position.
We have tried every old wive's tale that exists to try to induce labor. And yes, I do mean every single one. Even the incredibly uncomfortable ones (eg, spicy food does not induce labor, it just makes heartburn even worse). S has even taken to yelling at my cervix ("Dilate!!!") and my uterus ("Contract!!!") but they're both ignoring him. Still, it's healthier than yelling at the baby ("Leave!!!") which was his initial instinct. He does occasionally plead gently with the baby ("Please come out so we can meet you!") but it's only brought about swift kicks to my hip bones. We even tried the tempting-fate approach and hosted a small Monday Night Football party last night (Go Packers!) but alas, I didn't go into labor by halftime like I had hoped.
My 40-week appointment is tomorrow. Hopefully I'll be showing some more progress, but either way, we're going to have to have a conversation about induction. Suggestions on how to kick-start labor are more than welcome. Even silly ones. In the mean time, I'm off to continue bouncing up and down on a birthing ball.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Good News, Frustrating News, Repeat
We had our 34 week appointment this morning. I now have updates on several things that I was panicking about after my last appointment 2 weeks ago. Watch as I emotionally swing from good news to bad news and back again!
1. Good news: Barack is no longer breech. Woo hoo! After watching a video on c-sections at our last birthing class, I was even more anxious for him to get into position. Dr. M did an ultrasound and voila! Barack is head down, as requested. The ultrasound was also exciting because we haven't had a peak at Barack since week 19, more than 3 months ago, which seems like forever, and at that ultrasound, I wasn't allowed to see anything (because we had the worst ultrasound tech ever). This time, it was Dr. M running the machine. After he verified the position and finished his measurements, he let us "look around" a bit. He also showed me the proof that we're having a boy. As for the measurements: at the last ultrasound, Barack was measuring 6 days ahead of schedule. Today, he's measuring 10 days ahead, with a current estimated weight of 6 pounds. Those day estimates have error bars of +/- 3 weeks, and the weight estimates are +/- 1 pound, but still... he might be an awfully big baby, and I'm getting the sense that he might arrive a tad early.
2. Frustrating news: Two weeks ago, I was feeling physically great. Now... not so much. I'm absolutely exhausted. I wake up several times each night broiling hot and drenched in sweat, with the joints in my legs and hands painfully cramped. I have to get up and walk around the house a bit to cool off and stretch my legs and drink some water before going back to bed. Each morning, it takes 1-2 hours for me to be able to unclench my fingers enough to be able to type. Each evening, I'm completely sidelined by heartburn, to the point that my throat burns. My ankles and feet swell progressively throughout the day until I have gross sausage toes by evening. My hips hurt when I walk. And each afternoon, I've been getting headaches. Again. (Was that enough complaining for you?) With all of these (rather sudden) symptoms, I was worried that today's appointment was going to show elevated blood pressure, but I was only partially right. After months of being ridiculously low, my blood pressure was, indeed, up from two weeks ago, but only enough to bring it back into the "normal" range. Dr. M says it's still nothing to worry about. All the symptoms are just normal end-of-pregnancy stuff, and possibly a sign that I'm over-doing my sodium intake. I'm under orders to try to avoid salt, and to gulp water whenever possible.
3. If our baby were to be born as early as S was born, I'd be in labor today. The good news: I'm not my mother-in-law! I'll take good news wherever I can find it.
4. Back to frustrating news: We still don't have a crib. As I mentioned, the store we ordered from is going out of business. I talked to them 1.5 weeks ago, and they told me that the crib was due in to arrive in mid-August, which would be fine, because they were staying open until the end of August. On Saturday, they called us with an update. The manufacturer was now expecting it to arrive here in mid-September, which is after the store will be gone (and, more important for us, after my due date). The store refunded us our deposit, and helped us to transfer the order to a different store in the area, so that at least we wouldn't have to start the order process entirely from the beginning. Today, however, the new store called to tell me that they checked with the manufacturer themselves, and the new arrival estimate is end of October. Yep, that's more than five months after we placed the order, and nearly two months after my due date. This is causing me not a little stress. Despite my wanting to avoid it, I'm off to investigate inexpensive in-stock bassinets. Any suggestions?
So, the good news is all really truly good news. I'm in good health, Barack is in good health, and he's finally facing the exit like he's supposed to. Also, I had a truly wonderful baby shower on Saturday (a topic for a later post, because this one is already too long). But I'm exhausted and hormonal, way overly emotional, and this crib saga is pushing me irrationally over the edge a bit.
1. Good news: Barack is no longer breech. Woo hoo! After watching a video on c-sections at our last birthing class, I was even more anxious for him to get into position. Dr. M did an ultrasound and voila! Barack is head down, as requested. The ultrasound was also exciting because we haven't had a peak at Barack since week 19, more than 3 months ago, which seems like forever, and at that ultrasound, I wasn't allowed to see anything (because we had the worst ultrasound tech ever). This time, it was Dr. M running the machine. After he verified the position and finished his measurements, he let us "look around" a bit. He also showed me the proof that we're having a boy. As for the measurements: at the last ultrasound, Barack was measuring 6 days ahead of schedule. Today, he's measuring 10 days ahead, with a current estimated weight of 6 pounds. Those day estimates have error bars of +/- 3 weeks, and the weight estimates are +/- 1 pound, but still... he might be an awfully big baby, and I'm getting the sense that he might arrive a tad early.
2. Frustrating news: Two weeks ago, I was feeling physically great. Now... not so much. I'm absolutely exhausted. I wake up several times each night broiling hot and drenched in sweat, with the joints in my legs and hands painfully cramped. I have to get up and walk around the house a bit to cool off and stretch my legs and drink some water before going back to bed. Each morning, it takes 1-2 hours for me to be able to unclench my fingers enough to be able to type. Each evening, I'm completely sidelined by heartburn, to the point that my throat burns. My ankles and feet swell progressively throughout the day until I have gross sausage toes by evening. My hips hurt when I walk. And each afternoon, I've been getting headaches. Again. (Was that enough complaining for you?) With all of these (rather sudden) symptoms, I was worried that today's appointment was going to show elevated blood pressure, but I was only partially right. After months of being ridiculously low, my blood pressure was, indeed, up from two weeks ago, but only enough to bring it back into the "normal" range. Dr. M says it's still nothing to worry about. All the symptoms are just normal end-of-pregnancy stuff, and possibly a sign that I'm over-doing my sodium intake. I'm under orders to try to avoid salt, and to gulp water whenever possible.
3. If our baby were to be born as early as S was born, I'd be in labor today. The good news: I'm not my mother-in-law! I'll take good news wherever I can find it.
4. Back to frustrating news: We still don't have a crib. As I mentioned, the store we ordered from is going out of business. I talked to them 1.5 weeks ago, and they told me that the crib was due in to arrive in mid-August, which would be fine, because they were staying open until the end of August. On Saturday, they called us with an update. The manufacturer was now expecting it to arrive here in mid-September, which is after the store will be gone (and, more important for us, after my due date). The store refunded us our deposit, and helped us to transfer the order to a different store in the area, so that at least we wouldn't have to start the order process entirely from the beginning. Today, however, the new store called to tell me that they checked with the manufacturer themselves, and the new arrival estimate is end of October. Yep, that's more than five months after we placed the order, and nearly two months after my due date. This is causing me not a little stress. Despite my wanting to avoid it, I'm off to investigate inexpensive in-stock bassinets. Any suggestions?
So, the good news is all really truly good news. I'm in good health, Barack is in good health, and he's finally facing the exit like he's supposed to. Also, I had a truly wonderful baby shower on Saturday (a topic for a later post, because this one is already too long). But I'm exhausted and hormonal, way overly emotional, and this crib saga is pushing me irrationally over the edge a bit.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Brand New Niece!
My brother and sister-in-law, M and A, had their baby yesterday -- a little girl. Last fall, after trying to conceive for more than 2 years, as S and I were newly navigating infertility waters and quietly undergoing all the various tests, M called to tell me that he and A had decided their lives were not complete with only 2 happy children, and were going off birth control that month to try to conceive #3. Three weeks later, as we were mourning yet another failed cycle, M called back to announce that A was pregnant. (Yes, that's right -- child #1 and child #3 were both conceived during their first month trying; child #2 was the frustrating one -- she took them two cycles.) At the time, I was barely able to congratulate them without bursting into tears. It became easier once I got pregnant, even easier as my pregnancy has progressed so uneventfully.
So, I am happy to report that I am now, without any conflicting emotions at all, 100% happy for them. Surprised that it was a little girl (my money was on boy) but happy nonetheless. Not the least because them having a little girl means that they can't steal the name that S and I picked out for baby Barack, which M has been threatening to do for the last several months. And, true to form, the labor went as smoothly for them as the conception had gone. A's water broke at midnight, the baby was born at 7am, no interventions required, weighing 7 ounces and change. All just one day before the official due date, so right on time. Neat and tidy. The only "sad" part is that, since they live several thousand miles away, we won't be able to visit and meet the new addition until after I give birth. The plan, at the moment, is for everyone (me and S and Barack, and M and A and all 3 of their kids) to all visit my parents around Chanukah for a week-long visit to acquaint all the cousins, and introduce the babies to the extended family. (For M and A et. al, that will be a 7-hour drive with 3 kids; for me and S, a 2-legged flight with a 3-month old -- who do you pity more?)
In other news: for the past week, I've been feeling increasingly short of breath, which is having the unfortunate psychological side effect of making me feel constantly anxious. I had been blaming it on Barack pushing upwards and compressing my lungs, but couldn't explain why it had suddenly gotten so much worse. As I stood outside gasping for air after a fairly short walk, I noticed that S wasn't doing much better, despite being in excellent health. When I asked him what was wrong, he looked at me like I was completely nuts and pointed to the sky.
Remember how I mentioned that we've had no rain and intensely high heat for the past few weeks? I forgot to mention the huge numbers of wild fires that resulted from that combination. None of them are too out of control, as these things go, and none are threatening any homes, so they're not really making news. But, they are fairly close to us, surrounding us on several sides. The result is incredibly bad air quality for the last week. As in, the sky has been perpetually grayish-yellow. The mountains usually visible from the street have quietly disappeared in the haze. The air has an odd pungent smell. The sunsets glow an unnatural orange. And just about everyone, pregnant or not, has been having difficulty breathing normally, because of all the particles in the air.
The odd part, of course, is how I failed to put together my shortness of breath and chest-tightening anxiety with the fact that the air was noticeably visible and smelly. Apparently, I'm just that stupid. Now that I've been avoiding doing much outside, and using the re-circ feature when in my car, I'm starting to feel better. And as the fires are extinguished one by one, the air quality is slowly improving. I'm also feeling sorry for the poor saps who live in cities like LA that have bad air quality all the time. Seriously -- I don't know how they do it.
So, I am happy to report that I am now, without any conflicting emotions at all, 100% happy for them. Surprised that it was a little girl (my money was on boy) but happy nonetheless. Not the least because them having a little girl means that they can't steal the name that S and I picked out for baby Barack, which M has been threatening to do for the last several months. And, true to form, the labor went as smoothly for them as the conception had gone. A's water broke at midnight, the baby was born at 7am, no interventions required, weighing 7 ounces and change. All just one day before the official due date, so right on time. Neat and tidy. The only "sad" part is that, since they live several thousand miles away, we won't be able to visit and meet the new addition until after I give birth. The plan, at the moment, is for everyone (me and S and Barack, and M and A and all 3 of their kids) to all visit my parents around Chanukah for a week-long visit to acquaint all the cousins, and introduce the babies to the extended family. (For M and A et. al, that will be a 7-hour drive with 3 kids; for me and S, a 2-legged flight with a 3-month old -- who do you pity more?)
In other news: for the past week, I've been feeling increasingly short of breath, which is having the unfortunate psychological side effect of making me feel constantly anxious. I had been blaming it on Barack pushing upwards and compressing my lungs, but couldn't explain why it had suddenly gotten so much worse. As I stood outside gasping for air after a fairly short walk, I noticed that S wasn't doing much better, despite being in excellent health. When I asked him what was wrong, he looked at me like I was completely nuts and pointed to the sky.
Remember how I mentioned that we've had no rain and intensely high heat for the past few weeks? I forgot to mention the huge numbers of wild fires that resulted from that combination. None of them are too out of control, as these things go, and none are threatening any homes, so they're not really making news. But, they are fairly close to us, surrounding us on several sides. The result is incredibly bad air quality for the last week. As in, the sky has been perpetually grayish-yellow. The mountains usually visible from the street have quietly disappeared in the haze. The air has an odd pungent smell. The sunsets glow an unnatural orange. And just about everyone, pregnant or not, has been having difficulty breathing normally, because of all the particles in the air.
The odd part, of course, is how I failed to put together my shortness of breath and chest-tightening anxiety with the fact that the air was noticeably visible and smelly. Apparently, I'm just that stupid. Now that I've been avoiding doing much outside, and using the re-circ feature when in my car, I'm starting to feel better. And as the fires are extinguished one by one, the air quality is slowly improving. I'm also feeling sorry for the poor saps who live in cities like LA that have bad air quality all the time. Seriously -- I don't know how they do it.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Things I Didn't Know about Being Pregnant
I didn't know that, eventually, you feel kicks a lot of the time. I thought that feeling kicks was like a once-a-day thing, if that. On TV, they always show a women exclaim and touch her belly, and everyone comes over to feel it, like it was something unusual. I didn't realize that I would feel little kicks constantly. I like it; it's comforting. (But, maybe ask me again once the kicks get hard enough to bruise.)
I didn't know that the exhaustion would be so constant. I always assumed pregnant women were tired just from carrying around extra weight, but I haven't really gained much weight yet, so that's not really the cause. It's more the hormones and the lack of sleep and the constant daydreaming interspersed with intense stress that I'm not getting enough things done. The exhaustion is much deeper than just from physical exertion.
I didn't realize that there were so many physical changes, at the same time. This one is odd, because as I tick off the various changes (thicker hair, faster-growing nails, appetite changes, swollen feet and ankles, etc., etc., etc.) it occurs to me that, individually, I knew that these were all side effects of pregnancy. But I never really contemplated them all at the same time, in total. And I certainly didn't think about how they interact with each other. Longer nails sound cool, and itchy skin sounds extremely manageable, but when you put them together, I find myself accidentally gouging myself with my ridiculous nails when I absentmindedly scratch. Awkward physical movements sound amusing on their own, and swollen ankles and feet sound mildly annoying, but when you put them together, you realize that you when you can't bend in half to easily to massage those ankles, they hurt a lot more.
I didn't realize how often other people would want to ask me about the baby. I used to watch other pregnant women who were constantly talking about their pregnancies, and I'd think, that's not going to be me. But a lot of it is out of my control, because it seems to be the only thing that other people want to talk about. It's nice that people care, but holy cow, I am willing to talk about other things! That may make some of you laugh, because I know that this blog is entirely on-topic, but that was kind of its purpose. Believe me, in real life, I'd much rather be spending my time discussing my research, or the Red Sox, or the unending Democratic primary, or the ridiculously stupid "gas tax holiday," or how much I can't wait to see the new Indiana Jones movie. Because truly, once I've said, "Yes, feeling kicks. It's a boy! I'm tired but feeling pretty good. Due in September. Yep, we're excited. Nope, haven't bought stuff for the nursery yet" I'm kind of out of things to say, at least to most people. My advisor doesn't need to know the kind of pregnancy details that I write here. In fact, a lot of the purpose of this blog is so that I can get that stuff off my chest without inflicting it on inappropriate audiences. (One of my fellow students asked me yesterday when babies start swallowing and peeing, and when I said that the baby was doing both those things already, in the amniotic fluid, right now, it grossed everybody out. Probably didn't need to be discussing those details with that particular crowd.)
Perhaps the biggest thing that I didn't realize about being pregnant is also the biggest surprise to me, particularly given my reluctance to discuss the pregnancy out loud. I didn't realize that I would be constantly aware that I'm pregnant. I though that while I was at work, for instance, I could focus on work and basically ignore the fact that I'm pregnant. I thought that I could finish everything I wanted to do around the house (shopping for supplies, setting up a nursery) over a few short weeks, and then spend my weekends much as I used to. It didn't occur to me that I would be constantly reminded of the pregnancy. At work, I'm daydreaming about the baby, and the nursery, and making checklists and plans. On weekeneds, I want to be working on getting the house ready, and doing endless research into what we need to buy. Every time I'm hungry, I run through lists of what I can or should be eating, given my "delicate condition." Even when I'm sitting quietly somewhere, working or reading or watching TV, those little kicks (and the annoyingly swollen ankles) keep the pregnancy in the front of my mind.
Just to be clear: I think that the all-consuming nature of it is more good than bad. Thinking about the pregnancy and little Barack makes me extremely happy, even when the thing that made me think about it was my swollen ankles or my need to pass on the sushi. I just never realized, two years ago, or even 6 months ago, that this is what pregnancy would be like for me.
I didn't know that the exhaustion would be so constant. I always assumed pregnant women were tired just from carrying around extra weight, but I haven't really gained much weight yet, so that's not really the cause. It's more the hormones and the lack of sleep and the constant daydreaming interspersed with intense stress that I'm not getting enough things done. The exhaustion is much deeper than just from physical exertion.
I didn't realize that there were so many physical changes, at the same time. This one is odd, because as I tick off the various changes (thicker hair, faster-growing nails, appetite changes, swollen feet and ankles, etc., etc., etc.) it occurs to me that, individually, I knew that these were all side effects of pregnancy. But I never really contemplated them all at the same time, in total. And I certainly didn't think about how they interact with each other. Longer nails sound cool, and itchy skin sounds extremely manageable, but when you put them together, I find myself accidentally gouging myself with my ridiculous nails when I absentmindedly scratch. Awkward physical movements sound amusing on their own, and swollen ankles and feet sound mildly annoying, but when you put them together, you realize that you when you can't bend in half to easily to massage those ankles, they hurt a lot more.
I didn't realize how often other people would want to ask me about the baby. I used to watch other pregnant women who were constantly talking about their pregnancies, and I'd think, that's not going to be me. But a lot of it is out of my control, because it seems to be the only thing that other people want to talk about. It's nice that people care, but holy cow, I am willing to talk about other things! That may make some of you laugh, because I know that this blog is entirely on-topic, but that was kind of its purpose. Believe me, in real life, I'd much rather be spending my time discussing my research, or the Red Sox, or the unending Democratic primary, or the ridiculously stupid "gas tax holiday," or how much I can't wait to see the new Indiana Jones movie. Because truly, once I've said, "Yes, feeling kicks. It's a boy! I'm tired but feeling pretty good. Due in September. Yep, we're excited. Nope, haven't bought stuff for the nursery yet" I'm kind of out of things to say, at least to most people. My advisor doesn't need to know the kind of pregnancy details that I write here. In fact, a lot of the purpose of this blog is so that I can get that stuff off my chest without inflicting it on inappropriate audiences. (One of my fellow students asked me yesterday when babies start swallowing and peeing, and when I said that the baby was doing both those things already, in the amniotic fluid, right now, it grossed everybody out. Probably didn't need to be discussing those details with that particular crowd.)
Perhaps the biggest thing that I didn't realize about being pregnant is also the biggest surprise to me, particularly given my reluctance to discuss the pregnancy out loud. I didn't realize that I would be constantly aware that I'm pregnant. I though that while I was at work, for instance, I could focus on work and basically ignore the fact that I'm pregnant. I thought that I could finish everything I wanted to do around the house (shopping for supplies, setting up a nursery) over a few short weeks, and then spend my weekends much as I used to. It didn't occur to me that I would be constantly reminded of the pregnancy. At work, I'm daydreaming about the baby, and the nursery, and making checklists and plans. On weekeneds, I want to be working on getting the house ready, and doing endless research into what we need to buy. Every time I'm hungry, I run through lists of what I can or should be eating, given my "delicate condition." Even when I'm sitting quietly somewhere, working or reading or watching TV, those little kicks (and the annoyingly swollen ankles) keep the pregnancy in the front of my mind.
Just to be clear: I think that the all-consuming nature of it is more good than bad. Thinking about the pregnancy and little Barack makes me extremely happy, even when the thing that made me think about it was my swollen ankles or my need to pass on the sushi. I just never realized, two years ago, or even 6 months ago, that this is what pregnancy would be like for me.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Semi-Panic
Only semi-panic because I wasn't the one panicking -- it was everyone else around me. (How's that for a change?!) The reason? Those damn rolling balls of light. Holy cow, please let this be the last time that I have something to say on this topic.
The quick recap: I've had migraines since I was 19. I usually get 1-2 migraines each month. Very few of them (maybe once each year) are "mildly classic migraines" which means that, a few hours before the headache, I get visual disturbances ("auras"), usually opaque blobs of color floating across my vision. During my first trimester, I had zero migraines. Woo hoo! Several weeks ago, they returned, but noticeably different than usual. For one, they're suddenly much more frequent, averaging ~4 each week (yep, that's a frequency of every other day). And second, the visual disturbances are happening several times a day, every day, in the form of little rolling balls of light on the periphery of my vision.
I fully believe (and several commentors on an earlier post agree) that the balls of light are migraine auras, accompanying my newly frequent migraines. But, just to be sure, I mentioned it to my doctor at my last appointment. After consulting with every obstetrician in the office that day, and a few that weren't, my doctor concluded that it was nothing wrong with the pregnancy, it was probably migraines, but I should see my general practitioner to rule out any neurological problems.
My general practitioner ran every neurological test she could think of that wouldn't involve irradiating my baby (though S did mention that having little Barack born with super powers, like Spiderman, might be kinda cool). Her conclusion: I'm totally fine neurologically. It's probably migraines. (There's a worthless copay I'm never getting back.) But then she adds this: it's also completely consistent with a partially detached retina. I need to make an appointment with my eye doctor ASAP, but whatever I do, do not let them dilate my eyes. (See previous notes about not doing things that will kill the baby.) At this point, everyone in my family panicked, convinced that I was going blind. (Everyone except me, that is -- see previous point that it's probably just migraines.)
Okay, appointment made with eye doctor. Appointment then moved up when eye doctor calls back in a panic to say, "OMG -- you DO probably have a detached retina! Someone needs to see you as fast as humanly possible!!!"
So, I end up seeing an eye doctor I've never met before, because she had the earliest open slot. She notes all of my symptoms, does a full exam, and then gives me the news. Actually, it's probably not a detached retina, it's probably migraines. (Duh.) My symptoms aren't as consistent as originally thought, because the ball of light wouldn't be moving, I'd see it just about all the time, and (most importantly) it would be accompanied by vision loss. Also, she examined the 90% of my retina that she's able to see without dilating, and everything looks healthy.
Now, the fun part: she's not ready to let me go, though, until she's looked at the last 10% of my retina, just to be sure. So ... (you saw this coming, right?) she wants to dilate my eyes. And I refuse. And we argue. A lot. The decision seemed really obvious to me: if it is a detached retina, then any vision loss could become permanent, but since I don't HAVE any vision loss, there's no risk to waiting. Combine that with the inconsistency of the symptoms and the 90% already OK'ed, and it really just doesn't seem worth the risk to my baby.
Ultimately, I signed a release saying that I'm going against strong doctor's orders, and if I go blind, I won't blame them. (I will, obviously, blame Barack.)
So. It's migraines. Shocking, eh?
The quick recap: I've had migraines since I was 19. I usually get 1-2 migraines each month. Very few of them (maybe once each year) are "mildly classic migraines" which means that, a few hours before the headache, I get visual disturbances ("auras"), usually opaque blobs of color floating across my vision. During my first trimester, I had zero migraines. Woo hoo! Several weeks ago, they returned, but noticeably different than usual. For one, they're suddenly much more frequent, averaging ~4 each week (yep, that's a frequency of every other day). And second, the visual disturbances are happening several times a day, every day, in the form of little rolling balls of light on the periphery of my vision.
I fully believe (and several commentors on an earlier post agree) that the balls of light are migraine auras, accompanying my newly frequent migraines. But, just to be sure, I mentioned it to my doctor at my last appointment. After consulting with every obstetrician in the office that day, and a few that weren't, my doctor concluded that it was nothing wrong with the pregnancy, it was probably migraines, but I should see my general practitioner to rule out any neurological problems.
My general practitioner ran every neurological test she could think of that wouldn't involve irradiating my baby (though S did mention that having little Barack born with super powers, like Spiderman, might be kinda cool). Her conclusion: I'm totally fine neurologically. It's probably migraines. (There's a worthless copay I'm never getting back.) But then she adds this: it's also completely consistent with a partially detached retina. I need to make an appointment with my eye doctor ASAP, but whatever I do, do not let them dilate my eyes. (See previous notes about not doing things that will kill the baby.) At this point, everyone in my family panicked, convinced that I was going blind. (Everyone except me, that is -- see previous point that it's probably just migraines.)
Okay, appointment made with eye doctor. Appointment then moved up when eye doctor calls back in a panic to say, "OMG -- you DO probably have a detached retina! Someone needs to see you as fast as humanly possible!!!"
So, I end up seeing an eye doctor I've never met before, because she had the earliest open slot. She notes all of my symptoms, does a full exam, and then gives me the news. Actually, it's probably not a detached retina, it's probably migraines. (Duh.) My symptoms aren't as consistent as originally thought, because the ball of light wouldn't be moving, I'd see it just about all the time, and (most importantly) it would be accompanied by vision loss. Also, she examined the 90% of my retina that she's able to see without dilating, and everything looks healthy.
Now, the fun part: she's not ready to let me go, though, until she's looked at the last 10% of my retina, just to be sure. So ... (you saw this coming, right?) she wants to dilate my eyes. And I refuse. And we argue. A lot. The decision seemed really obvious to me: if it is a detached retina, then any vision loss could become permanent, but since I don't HAVE any vision loss, there's no risk to waiting. Combine that with the inconsistency of the symptoms and the 90% already OK'ed, and it really just doesn't seem worth the risk to my baby.
Ultimately, I signed a release saying that I'm going against strong doctor's orders, and if I go blind, I won't blame them. (I will, obviously, blame Barack.)
So. It's migraines. Shocking, eh?
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Turnip
Today is 17 weeks. Other than the blinding migraines, I'm feeling good.
Our insurance company has a "Healthy Babies" program. You enroll in it during your first trimester. You have to promise to (a) let them send you lots of junk mail, mainly consisting of pamphlets on various pregnancy topics, illustrated with cheesy water colors of people dressed for the mid-1970s; and (b) chat on the phone once a month with a nurse, who makes sure that you're taking your vitamins and seeing your doctor, and then offers to answer questions. The idea, I think, is that having resources available to you makes you more likely to get proper care during pregnancy, which will decrease medical costs for everyone down the road. In exchange for not refusing the pamphlets or hanging up on the nurse, the insurance company mails you a check for $400 at the end of the pregnancy. Bottom line: chat with a nurse, and the insurance company will buy you a crib. Works for me.
Here's the only problem: the nurse is a moron. She called yesterday to check in, so I asked her a few questions. Some things I really did want to know, and asking her was easier than bugging my doctor. Other topics, I'm a little ashamed to say, I was just testing her on. Imagine how thrilled I was when, for each question, she said, "Hm... I'm not sure. Let me google it and try to find out for you." Thanks for the "expert" opinion, lady. That's real helpful.
So, here is the only question for which I'm not entirely willing to trust Nurse Google, but would love a more informed opinion. After 3 months of relief, my migraines are back with a vengeance. Not entirely shocking, since I knew this was a possibility. But, I've been having new and different visual disturbances. I normally get the occasional "floater" in my vision, but lately I've been experiencing bright, rolling balls of light on the periphery of my vision, only in my left eye. I usually get a headache within a few hours, also centered on the left side of my head (where my normal migraines are). So the little balls of light... normal escalation of migraines due to pregnancy? Indication of developing super powers? Or something else entirely?
Nurse Google went with "pregnancy migraines," and I'll admit that I'm inclined to agree, but informed input from others would be appreciated.
Our insurance company has a "Healthy Babies" program. You enroll in it during your first trimester. You have to promise to (a) let them send you lots of junk mail, mainly consisting of pamphlets on various pregnancy topics, illustrated with cheesy water colors of people dressed for the mid-1970s; and (b) chat on the phone once a month with a nurse, who makes sure that you're taking your vitamins and seeing your doctor, and then offers to answer questions. The idea, I think, is that having resources available to you makes you more likely to get proper care during pregnancy, which will decrease medical costs for everyone down the road. In exchange for not refusing the pamphlets or hanging up on the nurse, the insurance company mails you a check for $400 at the end of the pregnancy. Bottom line: chat with a nurse, and the insurance company will buy you a crib. Works for me.
Here's the only problem: the nurse is a moron. She called yesterday to check in, so I asked her a few questions. Some things I really did want to know, and asking her was easier than bugging my doctor. Other topics, I'm a little ashamed to say, I was just testing her on. Imagine how thrilled I was when, for each question, she said, "Hm... I'm not sure. Let me google it and try to find out for you." Thanks for the "expert" opinion, lady. That's real helpful.
So, here is the only question for which I'm not entirely willing to trust Nurse Google, but would love a more informed opinion. After 3 months of relief, my migraines are back with a vengeance. Not entirely shocking, since I knew this was a possibility. But, I've been having new and different visual disturbances. I normally get the occasional "floater" in my vision, but lately I've been experiencing bright, rolling balls of light on the periphery of my vision, only in my left eye. I usually get a headache within a few hours, also centered on the left side of my head (where my normal migraines are). So the little balls of light... normal escalation of migraines due to pregnancy? Indication of developing super powers? Or something else entirely?
Nurse Google went with "pregnancy migraines," and I'll admit that I'm inclined to agree, but informed input from others would be appreciated.
Monday, March 31, 2008
What Not To Do While Pregnant
Some friendly advice for you other ladies out there, straight from me to you. I had to learn the hard way, and I'm here to save you the discomfort of finding out for yourself.
1. Don't go to a planetarium. I know, this probably comes up all the time. I, myself, go to planetariums constantly. Why, before this weekend, I was at a planetarium just ... 20 years ago. So, when a group of coworkers planned a trip to a space museum / observatory / planetarium, I joined them, because it sounded like fun. (Also, they planned this particular outing specifically for me, since they originally planned to go rock climbing, but changed their plans to something more pregnant-woman-friendly. Oh, the irony.) The museum and observatory were fun. Then we sat down for the planetarium show. About black holes. Complete with animations on imax film dramatizing an imagined fall through a black hole.
Let me say at this point that I watch imax movies all the time, and they never make me ill. I can normally watch shaky-cam movies with no problem at all. But wow, leaning back in that planetarium watching stars and planets zoom past me... I haven't felt that sick in a long time. Nauseous, pounding headache, dizzy, you name it. I had to sit there for several minutes after the show before I felt stable enough to walk out. Blech.
2. If you're already feeling sick from an ill-advised planetarium show, don't get in the car immediately afterwards with a nutsy driver who likes to purposely skid around mountain switchbacks and speed around corners to show off the handling of his new BMW. Trust me on this one.
1. Don't go to a planetarium. I know, this probably comes up all the time. I, myself, go to planetariums constantly. Why, before this weekend, I was at a planetarium just ... 20 years ago. So, when a group of coworkers planned a trip to a space museum / observatory / planetarium, I joined them, because it sounded like fun. (Also, they planned this particular outing specifically for me, since they originally planned to go rock climbing, but changed their plans to something more pregnant-woman-friendly. Oh, the irony.) The museum and observatory were fun. Then we sat down for the planetarium show. About black holes. Complete with animations on imax film dramatizing an imagined fall through a black hole.
Let me say at this point that I watch imax movies all the time, and they never make me ill. I can normally watch shaky-cam movies with no problem at all. But wow, leaning back in that planetarium watching stars and planets zoom past me... I haven't felt that sick in a long time. Nauseous, pounding headache, dizzy, you name it. I had to sit there for several minutes after the show before I felt stable enough to walk out. Blech.
2. If you're already feeling sick from an ill-advised planetarium show, don't get in the car immediately afterwards with a nutsy driver who likes to purposely skid around mountain switchbacks and speed around corners to show off the handling of his new BMW. Trust me on this one.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Sleep
After several nights of barely sleeping at all, I asked S. if he would research "pregnancy pillows." He cares deeply about my comfort, so he looked into solving the problem. Also, I'm keeping him up at night, so solving the problem will also prevent him from going stark raving mad from lack of sleep himself. But, let's give him the benefit of the doubt and let him have the non-selfish reason first.
Basically, I've suddenly been finding it impossible to get comfortable. I'm used to sleeping on my stomach, but my uterus has reached a stage where it's uncomfortable to lay on it. Also, my new (and still growing) porn-star breasts are kind of getting in the way. And sleeping on my side was hurting my lower back, hurting my hips, and seemed somehow "unstable." Piling normal pillows around me and under me was of limited help, since S. has a tendency to steal them all for himself in the middle of the night. Hence, the need for some sort of supportive pillow, hopefully big enough that it would stay out of S.'s unconscious grasp.
Being the thorough (and more than a bit nerdy) guy that he is, S. did quite a bit of research. Once he was sufficiently overwhelmed by the options, he also emailed several of our recently-pregnant friends. This resulted, most notably, in two things. First, friend E. loaned us her pregnancy pillow, after being (unhelpfully) surprised that I would need one this early; note that this comment left me feeling like the weakest woman in the world, totally unprepared for the rigors of pregnancy, much less the physical trials of actual labor and delivery. Second, friend L., upon learning that I didn't already have a pregnancy pillow by now, and fearing that S.'s careful research would take too long, went on-line and bought me the one that she loved; she followed this up with wonderment that I had survived 16 weeks without a pregnancy pillow, since she got hers somewhere around week 13. Thank you thank you thank you for putting my mind back at ease, L.!
The gift pillow from L. has not arrived yet, but I have been using the loaned pillow from E. for a few nights now. Ahhhh, sweet sleep. I'm still waking up several times each night, but I am now miraculously able to fall back asleep again. I'm still getting the occasional mild backache, but the headaches are definitely easing up, so life is good.
We've also been warned by many, many couples that, by the third trimester, the bed became too small for husband, pregnant wife, and pillow to comfortably occupy at the same time. Every couple we know that's been pregnant in the last 2 years apparently sent dear husband (or, in one case, dear pregnant wife) to sleep on the couch for the last few weeks. Since S. and I both generally sleep much better (and happier!) when we are together in bed, we have pinky-promised to try to avoid separate sleeping arrangements if at all possible. Check back in July and see how we're doing....
Basically, I've suddenly been finding it impossible to get comfortable. I'm used to sleeping on my stomach, but my uterus has reached a stage where it's uncomfortable to lay on it. Also, my new (and still growing) porn-star breasts are kind of getting in the way. And sleeping on my side was hurting my lower back, hurting my hips, and seemed somehow "unstable." Piling normal pillows around me and under me was of limited help, since S. has a tendency to steal them all for himself in the middle of the night. Hence, the need for some sort of supportive pillow, hopefully big enough that it would stay out of S.'s unconscious grasp.
Being the thorough (and more than a bit nerdy) guy that he is, S. did quite a bit of research. Once he was sufficiently overwhelmed by the options, he also emailed several of our recently-pregnant friends. This resulted, most notably, in two things. First, friend E. loaned us her pregnancy pillow, after being (unhelpfully) surprised that I would need one this early; note that this comment left me feeling like the weakest woman in the world, totally unprepared for the rigors of pregnancy, much less the physical trials of actual labor and delivery. Second, friend L., upon learning that I didn't already have a pregnancy pillow by now, and fearing that S.'s careful research would take too long, went on-line and bought me the one that she loved; she followed this up with wonderment that I had survived 16 weeks without a pregnancy pillow, since she got hers somewhere around week 13. Thank you thank you thank you for putting my mind back at ease, L.!
The gift pillow from L. has not arrived yet, but I have been using the loaned pillow from E. for a few nights now. Ahhhh, sweet sleep. I'm still waking up several times each night, but I am now miraculously able to fall back asleep again. I'm still getting the occasional mild backache, but the headaches are definitely easing up, so life is good.
We've also been warned by many, many couples that, by the third trimester, the bed became too small for husband, pregnant wife, and pillow to comfortably occupy at the same time. Every couple we know that's been pregnant in the last 2 years apparently sent dear husband (or, in one case, dear pregnant wife) to sleep on the couch for the last few weeks. Since S. and I both generally sleep much better (and happier!) when we are together in bed, we have pinky-promised to try to avoid separate sleeping arrangements if at all possible. Check back in July and see how we're doing....
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Second trimester really is better
It occurred to me last night that I haven't been nauseous for a few days. Woo hoo! I've been having more indigestion and heartburn, mainly in the evenings, but a small glass of milk has been helping immensely, so it is not as bothersome as the nausea. I'm not as disgusted by most food anymore, though my appetite is still tiny (and chicken is still disgusting). And I still feel like I'm having trouble concentrating. I'm particularly bad at stringing together sentences; I keep getting stuck mid-sentence, hunting for the right word, and my attempt to finish an important document for work this week was completely stymied by my inability to write coherently. I feel particularly cheated that I'm still so exhausted. I was promised a second-trimester energy boost! Where's my boost?
Today is 12w4d. NT scan is Monday. We'll hopefully be calling up S's family on Wednesday to tell them the news. Then we fly to visit my family on Thursday. The end of the secrecy is in sight!
Today is 12w4d. NT scan is Monday. We'll hopefully be calling up S's family on Wednesday to tell them the news. Then we fly to visit my family on Thursday. The end of the secrecy is in sight!
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Nothing new
I have absolutely nothing to report. My complete lack of appetite continues. My disgust with most normally edible food continues, except sadly, it no longer applies to deserts (a rather dangerous situation...). Also, I apologize for the cliche, but I've been eating a lot of pickles. The food that has been disgusting me the most since week 7 (chicken) has now been joined by beef (it's been tasting really gross for the past several days) which leaves me with very few options for actually getting some protein into my system. I'm hoping this will all go away in another week or two, so I'm not too concerned about it yet, but at some point, I'll need to face this one.
The nausea continues every afternoon, and by the time I want to go to bed, I usually feel too sick to comfortably lie down, so falling asleep sucks. Eating a small snack before bed no longer helps at all. Also, I've been getting bad headaches again, and not being able to take any pain killers really sucks, but these might be caused by the weather more than the pregnancy, so there's some hope that they will go away.
That's about it. NT scan is a week from Monday. My birthday is the day after that. We fly to visit my family two days after that. And then we can hopefully start announcing to the world that we're pregnant.
The nausea continues every afternoon, and by the time I want to go to bed, I usually feel too sick to comfortably lie down, so falling asleep sucks. Eating a small snack before bed no longer helps at all. Also, I've been getting bad headaches again, and not being able to take any pain killers really sucks, but these might be caused by the weather more than the pregnancy, so there's some hope that they will go away.
That's about it. NT scan is a week from Monday. My birthday is the day after that. We fly to visit my family two days after that. And then we can hopefully start announcing to the world that we're pregnant.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Freaking out a little less
I think that it's possible that I'm still pregnant, though I'm not 100% convinced. (S. is using his "father's intuition" to try to ease my fears, but I'm not sure that I completely believe him.) After feeling physically great all day Thursday and most of Friday, I felt sick again by Friday night. Not sick like I had been, but a bit sick nonetheless. I wasn't nauseous, but I did feel sick to my stomach, more like my digestive system was out of whack. And I had a killer migraine, the first one since becoming pregnant. My breasts still felt remarkably non-sensitive, but my over-sensitive sense of smell had returned. (It came back in the middle of dinner at a restaurant, with the disgusting smell of salmon and onions wafting to me from ... somewhere.)
Saturday repeated much like Friday. I felt fine all morning and afternoon, only to feel headache-y and stomachache-y by evening, soon followed by the worst bloating and heartburn that I've ever had (despite barely eating all day). Today is another repeat so far. I woke up feeling fine, though I have almost no appetite. And thankfully, there has still been no bleeding, so maybe it really is just that the worst of the morning sickness subsided ahead of schedule and I'm actually just incredibly lucky.
When I started feeling sick again Friday night, S. looked honestly relieved and said, "I'm so glad!" which earned him a glare from me. I'm now in the less than desirable position of guaranteeing that I won't be happy at all until my next appointment in 9 days. If I'm feeling sick, the pregnancy is probably fine, but I'm miserable because, well, I feel sick. And if I'm not feeling sick, I'm convinced that something is wrong, which also makes me miserable. Hence the guarantee.
S. and I have been repeating this conversation over and over for the past 2 days:
me: "I feel so sick and crappy."
S: "I'm so sorry."
me: "No you're not. Liar."
Poor guy. It turns out that there is no response to "I feel so sick and crappy" that doesn't get him glared at.
Today is 9w5d. Next appointment is at 11 weeks even.
Saturday repeated much like Friday. I felt fine all morning and afternoon, only to feel headache-y and stomachache-y by evening, soon followed by the worst bloating and heartburn that I've ever had (despite barely eating all day). Today is another repeat so far. I woke up feeling fine, though I have almost no appetite. And thankfully, there has still been no bleeding, so maybe it really is just that the worst of the morning sickness subsided ahead of schedule and I'm actually just incredibly lucky.
When I started feeling sick again Friday night, S. looked honestly relieved and said, "I'm so glad!" which earned him a glare from me. I'm now in the less than desirable position of guaranteeing that I won't be happy at all until my next appointment in 9 days. If I'm feeling sick, the pregnancy is probably fine, but I'm miserable because, well, I feel sick. And if I'm not feeling sick, I'm convinced that something is wrong, which also makes me miserable. Hence the guarantee.
S. and I have been repeating this conversation over and over for the past 2 days:
me: "I feel so sick and crappy."
S: "I'm so sorry."
me: "No you're not. Liar."
Poor guy. It turns out that there is no response to "I feel so sick and crappy" that doesn't get him glared at.
Today is 9w5d. Next appointment is at 11 weeks even.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Freaking out a little
I felt horrible all day yesterday. Constant nausea, upset stomach, headache, and on-and-off sharp twinges and cramps in my abdomen. (Being in meetings for 12 hours straight didn't help.) When I finally got home, I pretty much just curled up in a little ball on the couch and moaned pathetically until going to bed. When I woke up this morning... there was nothing. And I do mean nothing. No nausea. No illness of any kind. No sore, tender breasts.
So, now I'm freaking out a bit. Why are my symptoms suddenly gone? (And yes, it's pretty perverse to be freaked out because I feel too GOOD.) If it were 3-4 weeks from now, I could breezily say that I had passed my first trimester. Or, if I'd never had morning sickness, I could say that this is just how I feel when pregnant. But I've never heard of anyone having first trimester symptoms only until week 9, without it meaning something really, really bad. I thought about calling my doctor's office, but what exactly would I say? How stupid would I feel calling to complain that I'm not nauseous?
I decided to wait until tomorrow and see what happens. But it's afternoon now, and I'm still not feeling the need to throw up. Other than a bit of a headache, I feel fine. No bleeding, either, which I guess is a little reassuring, but still... what the heck?
So, now I'm freaking out a bit. Why are my symptoms suddenly gone? (And yes, it's pretty perverse to be freaked out because I feel too GOOD.) If it were 3-4 weeks from now, I could breezily say that I had passed my first trimester. Or, if I'd never had morning sickness, I could say that this is just how I feel when pregnant. But I've never heard of anyone having first trimester symptoms only until week 9, without it meaning something really, really bad. I thought about calling my doctor's office, but what exactly would I say? How stupid would I feel calling to complain that I'm not nauseous?
I decided to wait until tomorrow and see what happens. But it's afternoon now, and I'm still not feeling the need to throw up. Other than a bit of a headache, I feel fine. No bleeding, either, which I guess is a little reassuring, but still... what the heck?
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Tired.......
We're back. The trip back turned into quite an ordeal. We initially made it to the airport with plenty of time, but the first plane ride was horrible. We were on some sort of discount European airline, and I think that it was the oldest airplane I've ever been on. Everything about it screamed delapidated. Peeling paint, creaking parts, worn upholstery. And, worst for me, a horrible smell permeated the entire cabin. The crew was terrible, too, and twice just skipped our row entirely when bringing around drinks, so I couldn't even get water or ginger ale to try to settle my increasingly roiling stomach.
We landed in Madrid with barely enough time to make our connecting flight, especially since we had to go through passport control and re-check in. We made it okay, but one of our bags didn't, though we didn't find that out until our next layover.
Our flight from Madrid to Atlanta was long but unremarkable, except for how sick I felt the entire way. Happily, I managed to sleep more than I did on the way out, but all of the food on the plane disgusted me, so S. ate both our meals, and I limited myself to ginger ale, a dinner roll, and saltine crumbs over the course of the 9+ hour flight.
We had a planned 3.5 hour layover in Atlanta, so we sat down in a restaurant to get something to eat. I managed a little plain chicken before needing to flee the restaurant for the bathroom because of the nausea. By the time we boarded the plane, it was snowing (yes, snowing in Atlanta), and since it only snows there 1-2 times per year, they're not exactly set up to handle de-icing of all the planes. We ended up sitting on the plane for more than 4 hours before finally getting de-iced and being allowed to take off.
So, we finally got home at almost 2am. We dropped the bags and immediately fell into bed, though being horizontal set off another bout of nausea for me. I finally fell asleep at 3, then woke up every hour to pee, and was up for good when the phone rang at 8am (they found our bag, which is great news, but it couldn't wait a few hours?).
So, I'm munching on saltines and trying to stay awake for the day, in an attempt to nip the jet lag in the bud and be back on track by tomorrow. Meanwhile, S. is stunningly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and is taking on all of the unpacking and laundry duties. Before we left, I was barely feeling the effects of the pregnancy. Now, less than 2 weeks later, I am fully aware of my first trimester status. I'm hoping it eases up a little once I am better rested, but for now, I'm just looking ahead to the 7 week appointment on Tuesday.
We landed in Madrid with barely enough time to make our connecting flight, especially since we had to go through passport control and re-check in. We made it okay, but one of our bags didn't, though we didn't find that out until our next layover.
Our flight from Madrid to Atlanta was long but unremarkable, except for how sick I felt the entire way. Happily, I managed to sleep more than I did on the way out, but all of the food on the plane disgusted me, so S. ate both our meals, and I limited myself to ginger ale, a dinner roll, and saltine crumbs over the course of the 9+ hour flight.
We had a planned 3.5 hour layover in Atlanta, so we sat down in a restaurant to get something to eat. I managed a little plain chicken before needing to flee the restaurant for the bathroom because of the nausea. By the time we boarded the plane, it was snowing (yes, snowing in Atlanta), and since it only snows there 1-2 times per year, they're not exactly set up to handle de-icing of all the planes. We ended up sitting on the plane for more than 4 hours before finally getting de-iced and being allowed to take off.
So, we finally got home at almost 2am. We dropped the bags and immediately fell into bed, though being horizontal set off another bout of nausea for me. I finally fell asleep at 3, then woke up every hour to pee, and was up for good when the phone rang at 8am (they found our bag, which is great news, but it couldn't wait a few hours?).
So, I'm munching on saltines and trying to stay awake for the day, in an attempt to nip the jet lag in the bud and be back on track by tomorrow. Meanwhile, S. is stunningly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and is taking on all of the unpacking and laundry duties. Before we left, I was barely feeling the effects of the pregnancy. Now, less than 2 weeks later, I am fully aware of my first trimester status. I'm hoping it eases up a little once I am better rested, but for now, I'm just looking ahead to the 7 week appointment on Tuesday.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Travel Fatigue
Checking in just this once from overseas. The trip has been an interesting one. We had a long but relatively uneventful trip here -- it totaled 24 hours of travel time, and I wasn't able to sleep much on the plane, but overall not too bad. I drank lots of water and ginger ale, peed a whole lot, walked up and down the aisles of the planes (and a few airports), and was able to check into the hotel in pretty good shape (and then slept for 15 hours).
Things started off smoothly -- it was easy to find food that I could be sure was safe, including lots of dairy (yogurt and milk, and some cheeses, though I'm being extremely careful) and we've gone through almost a dozen 1.5 liter bottles of water. I was a bit tired during the first day of the conference (Monday) but it felt more like jet lag than anything pregnancy related.
Tuesday, things started to turn, and by today, I am definitely confident that I am feeling pregnancy effects much more than lingering jet lag. It is impossible to get through an entire day without some sort of rest around 4pm or so. Walking even a few blocks at anything faster than a slow ramble immediately tires me out and often gives me abdominal cramps. I feel sick within half an hour of getting up in the morning, or anytime I haven't eaten in more than 2 hours. Saltines are starting to lose their effectiveness at relieving the nausea. I haven't actually vomited, but I burp regularly with such ferocity that it often brings up bile (TMI, sorry). And I wouldn't say that I'm actually getting food aversions, but certainly the site, smell, or discussion of some foods definitely turns my stomach, often very suddenly, and often when they were fine the day before. The tiny crepes I've been having for breakfast every day this week suddenly appeared disgusting this morning. S. had to cover up his slices of ham as well, because the site of it made me ill. You can imagine how pleased I was when he ordered an anchovy pizza for lunch (averting my eyes was thankfully enough).
Given my ever increasing nausea, I am rather dreading the trip back (we leave tomorrow morning). I wore sea bands on the trip here, and it's not clear to me that they had any effect other than giving me bruises on my wrists. I guess I'll put them on as an extra "shield" against nausea, but I'm not all that hopeful that I won't vomit on the plane. Either way, it will be good to be home. I'm at 6w3d today, and my first prenatal appointment is Tuesday, when I'll be at 7 weeks even.
Other than the flight, my only real challenge between now and then will be dragging my jet-lagged and pregnancy-exhausted butt out of bed on Sunday in time to watch the Packers in the NFC Championship game....
Things started off smoothly -- it was easy to find food that I could be sure was safe, including lots of dairy (yogurt and milk, and some cheeses, though I'm being extremely careful) and we've gone through almost a dozen 1.5 liter bottles of water. I was a bit tired during the first day of the conference (Monday) but it felt more like jet lag than anything pregnancy related.
Tuesday, things started to turn, and by today, I am definitely confident that I am feeling pregnancy effects much more than lingering jet lag. It is impossible to get through an entire day without some sort of rest around 4pm or so. Walking even a few blocks at anything faster than a slow ramble immediately tires me out and often gives me abdominal cramps. I feel sick within half an hour of getting up in the morning, or anytime I haven't eaten in more than 2 hours. Saltines are starting to lose their effectiveness at relieving the nausea. I haven't actually vomited, but I burp regularly with such ferocity that it often brings up bile (TMI, sorry). And I wouldn't say that I'm actually getting food aversions, but certainly the site, smell, or discussion of some foods definitely turns my stomach, often very suddenly, and often when they were fine the day before. The tiny crepes I've been having for breakfast every day this week suddenly appeared disgusting this morning. S. had to cover up his slices of ham as well, because the site of it made me ill. You can imagine how pleased I was when he ordered an anchovy pizza for lunch (averting my eyes was thankfully enough).
Given my ever increasing nausea, I am rather dreading the trip back (we leave tomorrow morning). I wore sea bands on the trip here, and it's not clear to me that they had any effect other than giving me bruises on my wrists. I guess I'll put them on as an extra "shield" against nausea, but I'm not all that hopeful that I won't vomit on the plane. Either way, it will be good to be home. I'm at 6w3d today, and my first prenatal appointment is Tuesday, when I'll be at 7 weeks even.
Other than the flight, my only real challenge between now and then will be dragging my jet-lagged and pregnancy-exhausted butt out of bed on Sunday in time to watch the Packers in the NFC Championship game....
Thursday, January 10, 2008
5w2d
I must apologize. This blog seems to be leaning heavily to the boring these days. Not that I'm complaining -- the lack of interesting things to talk about is a side effect of finally being pregnant (hence no emotionally wrought tirades about failing to conceive) and, happily, having very little to report about the pregnancy. No real morning sickness yet, but I have been feeling increasingly queasy, especially in the evenings. Still tired, though not as bad as last week. Incredibly bloated, which I attribute to my sudden desire to eat tons of salty foods (though I am trying hard to cut back, and to drink as much water as I can swallow). And then there's my breasts. Holy cow, my breasts! Definitely tender to the touch, particularly around the nipples, and swollen beyond recognition. I'm barely into my 5th week, and I had to go buy new bras, one cup size bigger. Wow.
We leave tomorrow morning. I probably won't update while we're gone, unless I suddenly start puking my brains out.
We leave tomorrow morning. I probably won't update while we're gone, unless I suddenly start puking my brains out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
