Oh goodness, my dears. I felt so well today- no traces of the cold, the morning sickness just a vague queasiness if I let myself get too hungry, energy level NORMAL- that I went a little crazy on the built up housework: I was vacuuming, dusting, mopping, and laundering like a crazed Donna Reed. And HOO BOY can I feel it. I had been wondering previously about my hip pain, or rather, my lack of hip pain, with this pregnancy, because even with my first baby, my hips were aching any time I was on my feet by about two months along. This time, I haven't felt so much as a twinge. But today? Today my hips are being jackhammered apart and my lower back is screaming in protest. Guess the pain was there waiting all along- I just haven't been moving enough to feel it until now! Good to know everything is business as usual. But whatever, it's so worth it. My house is so clean again. Even the throw blankets are clean and dog hair free. Ahhh. And I haven't even dry heaved once today.
That would be in direct contrast to Friday, when I ran out of Zofran (and was already feeling especially yucky, even with the meds) and was completely without it for over twenty four hours due to a fuss between the doctor's office and my insurance company, trying to convince the insurance company to PAY for the refill my doctor had already APPROVED. Grr. While waiting for them to stop griping and cough up the coverage, I managed to throw up about five times, one of them on my own front lawn. A stellar day. After this pregnancy, I don't think I would even consider getting knocked up again if I didn't know that this fantastic medicine existed should I need it. (And every day I think, "Dear God, please let my kid not have six fingers because of this drug.")
Anywhays, that's pretty much all that's been going on over here. Oh, Eli continues down the path of great resistance re: toilet training, despite all the fabulous Spiderman and Cars underpants awaiting him in his drawer and the stockpile of Cars... cars waiting in the closet to be handed out for potty successes. He's had a few, but for the most part seems highly suspicious of this whole bathroom independence prospect. He's especially unimpressed with the underwear: every day we ask him if he'd like a diaper or underpants and he shrieks "DIAPER! Want DIAPER!" So.
We did an Easter egg hunt with family this past weekend, so we have plenty of candy now, especially considering the jelly beans and malted eggs I had already purchased for the baskets. Anyone have good ideas for Easter basket stuffers besides candy?
Monday, March 29, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Cravings and Teh Belly
I'm almost all better from the Sinus Infection That Would Not Quit. In fact, yesterday I felt so good I could hardly believe it. It was like being back from the dead.
Today, not so much. Nauseous, weak, nauseous, weak. I tried to clean the bathroom, and the combination of leaning over to scrub the tub and the smells of the (natural! green!) cleaners left me feeling woozy and sick. And then a bunch of trash cans needed emptying, and their contents were a little more pungent than I could handle. Ahem. But still- other than a few bizarre throwing up incidents that kind of hit me out of the blue, I have been doing much better, in terms of nausea, than I was a few weeks ago. I have hope that it really will end with the first trimester and the summer will be nothing but nesting and eating for two to my heart's content.
(EDIT: Hah hah hah. Should've known better than to gloat about feeling better. Today ended up being steadily downhill; the grand finale found me barfing in my hand as I ran for the bathroom. For my next trick, I will perhaps puke in your handbag!)
I keep fantasizing about all the delicious salads I want to eat so badly but can't stomach right now: a REAL Caesar salad, my favorite goat cheese/fruit/walnut salad, even just a good old cheese and egg and baco-bit and ranch dressing concoction... I love salad. But right now all I ever seem to want is turkey sandwiches. For reals, I have one at least once a day. Toasted bread, shaved turkey breast (and yes, I gave up on heating it a long time ago, listeriosis be... darned) provolone and cheddar cheese, honey mustard and lettuce. Works every time. I feel like I'm eating a lot, or at least, very frequently, but so far I actually haven't gained more than a pound or two (coughcough more like four on the doctor's scale coughcough.) My tummy, however, is no longer flat even in the mornings:
I am so excited to find out what the baby's sex is. I wonder if we'll find out a little early like with Eli... or, heaven forbid, not at all, like with modest, legs-crossed Adelay! A lot of how the bedrooms will get rearranged depends on baby's gender and who will be sharing with whom, so I can't start doing much about that until we know. I do so love to have projects to work on while I'm pregnant to make the time pass!
Although, I don't know that I'm all that anxious for the months to pass this time around. It kind of feels like it's going fast already, and I'm frankly quite intimidated at the prospect of three kids all day long! Pregnancy may be uncomfortable, but at least the baby is safe and sound and happy (one hopes) in there, and doesn't need nursing and burping and changing every two hours. Once it comes out, everything changes. Again! And then a year or so from its birth, of course, we will wonder what was ever so hard about ONLY two kids.
I did at least manage to get Adelay registered for preschool, which is she very excited about, so it won't be all three kids ALL day long. Bonus: it's afternoon preschool, which means I won't have to get myself and three kids packed up immediately following breakfast. I mean, let's face it: given my usual morning productivity, I'll be lucky to have my TEETH brushed before noon most days.
Today, not so much. Nauseous, weak, nauseous, weak. I tried to clean the bathroom, and the combination of leaning over to scrub the tub and the smells of the (natural! green!) cleaners left me feeling woozy and sick. And then a bunch of trash cans needed emptying, and their contents were a little more pungent than I could handle. Ahem. But still- other than a few bizarre throwing up incidents that kind of hit me out of the blue, I have been doing much better, in terms of nausea, than I was a few weeks ago. I have hope that it really will end with the first trimester and the summer will be nothing but nesting and eating for two to my heart's content.
(EDIT: Hah hah hah. Should've known better than to gloat about feeling better. Today ended up being steadily downhill; the grand finale found me barfing in my hand as I ran for the bathroom. For my next trick, I will perhaps puke in your handbag!)
I keep fantasizing about all the delicious salads I want to eat so badly but can't stomach right now: a REAL Caesar salad, my favorite goat cheese/fruit/walnut salad, even just a good old cheese and egg and baco-bit and ranch dressing concoction... I love salad. But right now all I ever seem to want is turkey sandwiches. For reals, I have one at least once a day. Toasted bread, shaved turkey breast (and yes, I gave up on heating it a long time ago, listeriosis be... darned) provolone and cheddar cheese, honey mustard and lettuce. Works every time. I feel like I'm eating a lot, or at least, very frequently, but so far I actually haven't gained more than a pound or two (coughcough more like four on the doctor's scale coughcough.) My tummy, however, is no longer flat even in the mornings:
I am so excited to find out what the baby's sex is. I wonder if we'll find out a little early like with Eli... or, heaven forbid, not at all, like with modest, legs-crossed Adelay! A lot of how the bedrooms will get rearranged depends on baby's gender and who will be sharing with whom, so I can't start doing much about that until we know. I do so love to have projects to work on while I'm pregnant to make the time pass!
Although, I don't know that I'm all that anxious for the months to pass this time around. It kind of feels like it's going fast already, and I'm frankly quite intimidated at the prospect of three kids all day long! Pregnancy may be uncomfortable, but at least the baby is safe and sound and happy (one hopes) in there, and doesn't need nursing and burping and changing every two hours. Once it comes out, everything changes. Again! And then a year or so from its birth, of course, we will wonder what was ever so hard about ONLY two kids.
I did at least manage to get Adelay registered for preschool, which is she very excited about, so it won't be all three kids ALL day long. Bonus: it's afternoon preschool, which means I won't have to get myself and three kids packed up immediately following breakfast. I mean, let's face it: given my usual morning productivity, I'll be lucky to have my TEETH brushed before noon most days.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Practically A Novel Here. Perhaps Read In Segments.
I've been feeling for awhile now the need to address an issue that I often think you guys must wonder about, which is how I reconcile my faith with loss, and the unfairness of it all, and the pointlessness of pregnancies which begin only to end. It's easy to be happy now, and to well up with gratitude every time I get more good news (and yes, I am still pregnant and sick and all systems are go!) but it was a little different when I was trying my best to follow what I thought was the right path for our family, getting hopeful and elated every time I saw a second pink line, and then feeling hollow and betrayed every time the ultrasound found only stillness where there should have been life.
Some days I just trudged through, and told myself I'd think about it tomorrow.
Some days I felt angry, and felt perfectly free to express that anger. I would start by feeling angry at myself, wondering what I might have done or not done to create an environment which did not sustain my baby. What could I have done differently? And why did it have to be so HARD for me, when other women were out drinking and smoking and foregoing prenatal care altogether and still managing to produce live children at the end?
But then I would end up feeling angry at God. Why did He let us both believe we were supposed to have more kids, and WANT more kids, if this was going to happen? Why would He allow us to get pregnant at all if He knew down the road it would fail? If it wasn't the right time yet, which I could accept as plausible, then why not just let me be unable to conceive for awhile, you know? Was He in control of every little thing, or not? Did I even want to believe that He was?
In the end, after much pondering, I came to a few conclusions. Or maybe just reaffirmed them under severe scrutiny, and found them still valid.
I believe wholeheartedly in free will. I think God can (will) change things and intervene in our lives only if it involves a circumstance NOT controlled or altered in any way by a person's intentional actions. This is not to say that He can't work in people's hearts, but that's just it, work. Movement. Nudging, through circumstances or other people (who have perhaps also been nudged) or just a feeling in their spirits. But He cannot actually force a person to do something that they don't will to do.
The implications of that are staggeringly far reaching in terms of the ultimate question, "Why do bad things happen to good people?" I have no idea where free will ends and the opportunity for a miracle or intervention begins. Also, sometimes free will seems kind of cruel to me, frankly- is it right that Hitler had free will and that God did not force that man's hand, even at the expense of millions of lives? But on the other hand, the inevitable truth is that there can be no love without free will. I wouldn't want to live in a world without love, even if it was also a world without cruelty and senselessness and unfair suffering.
Which is to say, I don't believe that every little thing that happens is God's will. I believe in grand plans and God's design and that we're each here with a purpose. But I don't sit around thinking, "God wanted me to miscarry three babies." I just really don't believe that. I believe the verse that says, "All things work together for good for those who love God and are called according to His purpose." I believe that God has the power to redeem certain situations and give us good gifts even out of ugliness and hurt, but I really don't believe that every hurt is orchestrated by God in some grand plan.
I'm not saying it's out of the question that God tests people and strengthens their character to prepare them for future events or to enable them to help others, but I'm also not saying that I believe you can blanketly look at every crappy, painful, unfair thing that happens and say, "Oh, God's just testing you!"
So is it possible that miscarriages are part of a master plan in my life? Sure. Is it also possible that the world is a just a messed up place full of bad health and disease and deteriorating bodies and that people who believe in God still have to live in this world and deal with the same circumstantial detritus as other people? I think so. I don't think God keeps Christians under some kind of special umbrella of protection from the real world. Jesus said something about it- "God lets the rain fall on the just and the unjust." I would say, though, that I feel like my heart has been kept under a special umbrella of protection. I can't really explain my determination to try and try again any other way. This determination is one of the gifts that I now believe I have been given from an otherwise just plain unfortunate series of events.
Let me explain. My personality is not exactly one given to a desire to conquer obstacles and surge through barriers. I usually stick with doing what I'm good at and avoiding what I'm not so good at. Even as a kid, I remember having mini panic attacks at the idea of math, just because I had it my head that I wasn't really very good at that. So, yeah, after the second miscarriage, there was a big part of me whispering, "Hey, it kinda seems you're not very good at this baby having business. Bedrest, random illnesses during pregnancy, low progesterone, two miscarriages- maybe you need to stop while you're ahead." But I just couldn't.
And after the third, I remember feeling this sort of swelling surge in me, like, "I refuse to give up on this. I KNOW we are not done having kids." Even that night five weeks ago, when I thought I was beginning to miscarry for the fourth time, (after initially sobbing over and over, "I am never doing this again. I can't do this again") I remember finally telling Jim, "We can't let this beat us. We just can't. Somehow it's going to happen."
I can't explain that hope or determination as anything other than a gift. I have never had to work harder and invest more of myself in something than I have in the effort of getting and staying pregnant, both mentally and physically. I don't really like being pregnant, overall. I just don't feel well or like myself, is the best way to put it. And complications seem inevitable- it's always something going on besides just gestating the baby! I would have loved to say, "I'm done! I want my body to myself and I want my mind to be done with the anxiety seesaw that is pregnancy." But I am learning that it's possible to want something enough to endure things you really hate. Having never once participated in an organized sport or trained for a marathon or anything of the sort, this is honestly the first thing I have had to physically push myself through, keeping my eye on the prize. I feel like a stronger person for having persevered, mentally and physically. (Mind you, this does not keep me from whining at great length about these physical challenges. AS YOU KNOW.)
Another gift I feel has come from the awfulness of lost pregnancies is a profound appreciation for every good doctor's visit, every ultrasound that ends happily. It is no small thing to see that flicker of thumping heart on the gray, fuzzy screen, and where with Adelay, and even somewhat with Eli, I took a healthy baby and uneventful check ups for granted- thinking bad things only happened to people who were binge drinking or were, you know, OLD or something- I now find my breath catching in pure joy every time the baby's safety is confirmed.
I had to go in AGAIN today, to get another antibiotic scrip, but since I was her last patient of the day, the practitioner hurried me back to the sonogram room and did a quick check just to assure us that baby was indeed still well after all that pharmaceutical popping! It was just a brief peek, a minute at most, but seeing my baby wriggling around nonstop, its arms and legs a blur of motion, made my throat close up in a way no sonogram ever has. You're alive! You're still ok! I thought all the way home, praising it just for being there. Keep it up! And as much as I want a beautiful natural birth BLAH BLAH BLAH, I kind of don't give a rat's you know what, in the end, how it happens. I just want to hold this baby. I can't wait to say, "You're here! We've been hoping for you for a long time, and we wanted you so very much. So, so much."
And THAT, my friends, is a little gift called perspective. (This also applies to how I don't mind too much anymore the chores that go undone and the dust that gathers here and there. It only took five and a half years of motherhood and a rather debilitating case of nausea/sinus misery to finally erase the inscription CLEANLINESS IS NEXT TO GODLINESS from my brain.)
Some days I just trudged through, and told myself I'd think about it tomorrow.
Some days I felt angry, and felt perfectly free to express that anger. I would start by feeling angry at myself, wondering what I might have done or not done to create an environment which did not sustain my baby. What could I have done differently? And why did it have to be so HARD for me, when other women were out drinking and smoking and foregoing prenatal care altogether and still managing to produce live children at the end?
But then I would end up feeling angry at God. Why did He let us both believe we were supposed to have more kids, and WANT more kids, if this was going to happen? Why would He allow us to get pregnant at all if He knew down the road it would fail? If it wasn't the right time yet, which I could accept as plausible, then why not just let me be unable to conceive for awhile, you know? Was He in control of every little thing, or not? Did I even want to believe that He was?
In the end, after much pondering, I came to a few conclusions. Or maybe just reaffirmed them under severe scrutiny, and found them still valid.
I believe wholeheartedly in free will. I think God can (will) change things and intervene in our lives only if it involves a circumstance NOT controlled or altered in any way by a person's intentional actions. This is not to say that He can't work in people's hearts, but that's just it, work. Movement. Nudging, through circumstances or other people (who have perhaps also been nudged) or just a feeling in their spirits. But He cannot actually force a person to do something that they don't will to do.
The implications of that are staggeringly far reaching in terms of the ultimate question, "Why do bad things happen to good people?" I have no idea where free will ends and the opportunity for a miracle or intervention begins. Also, sometimes free will seems kind of cruel to me, frankly- is it right that Hitler had free will and that God did not force that man's hand, even at the expense of millions of lives? But on the other hand, the inevitable truth is that there can be no love without free will. I wouldn't want to live in a world without love, even if it was also a world without cruelty and senselessness and unfair suffering.
Which is to say, I don't believe that every little thing that happens is God's will. I believe in grand plans and God's design and that we're each here with a purpose. But I don't sit around thinking, "God wanted me to miscarry three babies." I just really don't believe that. I believe the verse that says, "All things work together for good for those who love God and are called according to His purpose." I believe that God has the power to redeem certain situations and give us good gifts even out of ugliness and hurt, but I really don't believe that every hurt is orchestrated by God in some grand plan.
I'm not saying it's out of the question that God tests people and strengthens their character to prepare them for future events or to enable them to help others, but I'm also not saying that I believe you can blanketly look at every crappy, painful, unfair thing that happens and say, "Oh, God's just testing you!"
So is it possible that miscarriages are part of a master plan in my life? Sure. Is it also possible that the world is a just a messed up place full of bad health and disease and deteriorating bodies and that people who believe in God still have to live in this world and deal with the same circumstantial detritus as other people? I think so. I don't think God keeps Christians under some kind of special umbrella of protection from the real world. Jesus said something about it- "God lets the rain fall on the just and the unjust." I would say, though, that I feel like my heart has been kept under a special umbrella of protection. I can't really explain my determination to try and try again any other way. This determination is one of the gifts that I now believe I have been given from an otherwise just plain unfortunate series of events.
Let me explain. My personality is not exactly one given to a desire to conquer obstacles and surge through barriers. I usually stick with doing what I'm good at and avoiding what I'm not so good at. Even as a kid, I remember having mini panic attacks at the idea of math, just because I had it my head that I wasn't really very good at that. So, yeah, after the second miscarriage, there was a big part of me whispering, "Hey, it kinda seems you're not very good at this baby having business. Bedrest, random illnesses during pregnancy, low progesterone, two miscarriages- maybe you need to stop while you're ahead." But I just couldn't.
And after the third, I remember feeling this sort of swelling surge in me, like, "I refuse to give up on this. I KNOW we are not done having kids." Even that night five weeks ago, when I thought I was beginning to miscarry for the fourth time, (after initially sobbing over and over, "I am never doing this again. I can't do this again") I remember finally telling Jim, "We can't let this beat us. We just can't. Somehow it's going to happen."
I can't explain that hope or determination as anything other than a gift. I have never had to work harder and invest more of myself in something than I have in the effort of getting and staying pregnant, both mentally and physically. I don't really like being pregnant, overall. I just don't feel well or like myself, is the best way to put it. And complications seem inevitable- it's always something going on besides just gestating the baby! I would have loved to say, "I'm done! I want my body to myself and I want my mind to be done with the anxiety seesaw that is pregnancy." But I am learning that it's possible to want something enough to endure things you really hate. Having never once participated in an organized sport or trained for a marathon or anything of the sort, this is honestly the first thing I have had to physically push myself through, keeping my eye on the prize. I feel like a stronger person for having persevered, mentally and physically. (Mind you, this does not keep me from whining at great length about these physical challenges. AS YOU KNOW.)
Another gift I feel has come from the awfulness of lost pregnancies is a profound appreciation for every good doctor's visit, every ultrasound that ends happily. It is no small thing to see that flicker of thumping heart on the gray, fuzzy screen, and where with Adelay, and even somewhat with Eli, I took a healthy baby and uneventful check ups for granted- thinking bad things only happened to people who were binge drinking or were, you know, OLD or something- I now find my breath catching in pure joy every time the baby's safety is confirmed.
I had to go in AGAIN today, to get another antibiotic scrip, but since I was her last patient of the day, the practitioner hurried me back to the sonogram room and did a quick check just to assure us that baby was indeed still well after all that pharmaceutical popping! It was just a brief peek, a minute at most, but seeing my baby wriggling around nonstop, its arms and legs a blur of motion, made my throat close up in a way no sonogram ever has. You're alive! You're still ok! I thought all the way home, praising it just for being there. Keep it up! And as much as I want a beautiful natural birth BLAH BLAH BLAH, I kind of don't give a rat's you know what, in the end, how it happens. I just want to hold this baby. I can't wait to say, "You're here! We've been hoping for you for a long time, and we wanted you so very much. So, so much."
And THAT, my friends, is a little gift called perspective. (This also applies to how I don't mind too much anymore the chores that go undone and the dust that gathers here and there. It only took five and a half years of motherhood and a rather debilitating case of nausea/sinus misery to finally erase the inscription CLEANLINESS IS NEXT TO GODLINESS from my brain.)
Thursday, March 18, 2010
The Maid Is Really Slacking
I have been sick since last Monday. The cold has stayed steady, but now my head is starting to hurt again, too. Is it possible to reinfect yourself immediately after getting over a sinus infection? Or maybe the pregnancy-approved antibiotics are wimpy and didn't do the job well enough?
Either way, man is my nose raw. And about ten trees have been sacrificed on the altar of this cold. Our house is constantly dusty from the tissues being yanked out of their box approximately every five minutes. Yesterday Eli and Addy were dancing around in the cloud of dust motes floating in the sunlight. "It's fairies!" I told them. "It's the end of my six year stint as a thorough and dedicated housekeeper," I thought.
Because, boy do I just not care anymore. Fighting the sick and the nausea and keeping the kids reasonably well cared for and showering myself on a regular basis is about all I have energy for lately. Cleaning on my part has only been happening when the sight of the dirt is enough to make me feel even sicker, like last night, when I was brushing my teeth and started gagging uncontrollably because the counter was just so nasty with dust and lint and toothpaste globs. After the retching passed I stood there weakly with a washcloth, scrubbing and wiping for about ten minutes. How has it come to this- the sink has to look gross enough to send me heaving before I wipe it off? It seems some of this is preventable. But I'm just so TIRED from being so dang SICK. I'd rather escape the house altogether (especially lately, when it's been sunny and in the fifties and downright spring like) than force myself up to mop and scrub.
Not to sound too whiny, though- Jim's still doing the lion's share of dishes and laundry, and my mom continues to drop by on lunch breaks here and there to vacuum, wipe out the microwave, pat my head pityingly, etc. The dog continues to be no help whatsoever, by standing over me, shaking vigorously, as I try to dust buster up tumbleweeds of dog hair in the kitchen. Just for example.
I officially have pregnant face, btw. I thought maybe I was imagining it, so I mentioned it to Jim last night and asked, "Have YOU noticed?" "Yeah, I kinda did the other day," he replied nonchalantly, wiping off bowls. Well. Darn it. I was really hoping one of these times I would magically still have a jawline while gestating, but I guess it's not to be. Well, at least I have my health. OH WAIT HA HA HA.
Either way, man is my nose raw. And about ten trees have been sacrificed on the altar of this cold. Our house is constantly dusty from the tissues being yanked out of their box approximately every five minutes. Yesterday Eli and Addy were dancing around in the cloud of dust motes floating in the sunlight. "It's fairies!" I told them. "It's the end of my six year stint as a thorough and dedicated housekeeper," I thought.
Because, boy do I just not care anymore. Fighting the sick and the nausea and keeping the kids reasonably well cared for and showering myself on a regular basis is about all I have energy for lately. Cleaning on my part has only been happening when the sight of the dirt is enough to make me feel even sicker, like last night, when I was brushing my teeth and started gagging uncontrollably because the counter was just so nasty with dust and lint and toothpaste globs. After the retching passed I stood there weakly with a washcloth, scrubbing and wiping for about ten minutes. How has it come to this- the sink has to look gross enough to send me heaving before I wipe it off? It seems some of this is preventable. But I'm just so TIRED from being so dang SICK. I'd rather escape the house altogether (especially lately, when it's been sunny and in the fifties and downright spring like) than force myself up to mop and scrub.
Not to sound too whiny, though- Jim's still doing the lion's share of dishes and laundry, and my mom continues to drop by on lunch breaks here and there to vacuum, wipe out the microwave, pat my head pityingly, etc. The dog continues to be no help whatsoever, by standing over me, shaking vigorously, as I try to dust buster up tumbleweeds of dog hair in the kitchen. Just for example.
I officially have pregnant face, btw. I thought maybe I was imagining it, so I mentioned it to Jim last night and asked, "Have YOU noticed?" "Yeah, I kinda did the other day," he replied nonchalantly, wiping off bowls. Well. Darn it. I was really hoping one of these times I would magically still have a jawline while gestating, but I guess it's not to be. Well, at least I have my health. OH WAIT HA HA HA.
Monday, March 15, 2010
I Feel Pregnant. And Awful. But I Guess That's Kind Of Redundant!
Well. Nothing says early pregnancy like a raging sinus infection, hmm? Coupled with nausea, which on the one hand is helped by the sudden, total inability to smell anything, but which is then on the other hand greatly irritated by a week of post-nasal drip.
Also, nothing says pregnancy like worry/guilt about every little thing you do, such as taking Sudafed, antibiotics, Tylenol and Zofran for five days straight. I sure hope this poor kid comes out with just one head. If not, well, you know who to blame.
I will say this, though- Breathe Right strips are a straight miracle when you're trying to go to sleep with a stuffy nose. How have I lived twenty five years without those babies?
*This too, was an absolute miracle- Eli threw up twice on Saturday, and not in small amounts, either, but both times someone else cleaned it up instead of myself.
Also, nothing says pregnancy like worry/guilt about every little thing you do, such as taking Sudafed, antibiotics, Tylenol and Zofran for five days straight. I sure hope this poor kid comes out with just one head. If not, well, you know who to blame.
I will say this, though- Breathe Right strips are a straight miracle when you're trying to go to sleep with a stuffy nose. How have I lived twenty five years without those babies?
*This too, was an absolute miracle- Eli threw up twice on Saturday, and not in small amounts, either, but both times someone else cleaned it up instead of myself.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
I'm Pretty Sure We're Actually Having A Baby
Yesterday's ultrasound and appointment was pretty much all good news, aside from a diagnosis of developing sinus infection. But miserable head cold aside, all is well- baby is still alive and growing and measuring right, and, thank GOODNESS, the subchorionic bleed is much, much smaller and more spread out this week. Last week, it was a giant, visible sac, bigger than the baby's sac, dense and black. This week, it was just vague grayish patches here and there. So it seems the baby aspirin most likely was the culprit, and hopefully a few more weeks of being off it and that sucker will totally clear up. Thank you thank you thank you.
I hadn't even realized what a worrisome thing it was (well, I knew I was worried, especially after researching it online, but I didn't know how worried the doctors were) until the practitioner burst into the room with a big smile, waving the ultrasound picture at me. "I'm so relieved!" she exclaimed. "With your history and all, I was just going to be so upset if this... you know, caused a problem." Um, yes. Indeed.
The cherry on the sundae was that during the ultrasound, I asked when the baby would first start to move. "You mean, so that you can feel it?" the tech asked. "No, just like, at what age would we start to see it on the sonogram," I clarified. "Well, it's just kind of coincidence if we happen to catch it this early- they do move a little, but not much yet at this stage," she shrugged. But then a second later, it kicked! Inasmuch as one can kick with little buds for legs, but it was definitely, totally a kick. There were several, in fact, and you know what? I did feel them, all the way to my toes. I could not stop smiling all day, even though my sinuses were throbbing and my throat felt like sandpaper and my nose is red and raw.
Because! Kicking! Nine weeks on Sunday!
The only baby-related bad news was that my progesterone is still only seventeen, which is the bare minimum my particular practice likes to see before putting you on supplements. That means it has gone up a bit since the initial draw, when it was fifteen something, but it's still awfully low compared to normal women's. Also, the corpus luteum (the thing that produces progesterone and keeps the yolk sac, which the baby survives off of, healthy until the placenta takes over) was pretty small and kind of barely hanging in there. It just has to stay functioning for about a week longer though, and then the placenta will be producing progesterone and the baby won't need me to do it anymore. Which is good, cause I suck at progesterone making. But, whatever. I managed to make enough this time- just barely!- to keep the baby going this far, so hopefully I can churn out enough to get us through the next week or so and then we should be golden.
I hadn't even realized what a worrisome thing it was (well, I knew I was worried, especially after researching it online, but I didn't know how worried the doctors were) until the practitioner burst into the room with a big smile, waving the ultrasound picture at me. "I'm so relieved!" she exclaimed. "With your history and all, I was just going to be so upset if this... you know, caused a problem." Um, yes. Indeed.
The cherry on the sundae was that during the ultrasound, I asked when the baby would first start to move. "You mean, so that you can feel it?" the tech asked. "No, just like, at what age would we start to see it on the sonogram," I clarified. "Well, it's just kind of coincidence if we happen to catch it this early- they do move a little, but not much yet at this stage," she shrugged. But then a second later, it kicked! Inasmuch as one can kick with little buds for legs, but it was definitely, totally a kick. There were several, in fact, and you know what? I did feel them, all the way to my toes. I could not stop smiling all day, even though my sinuses were throbbing and my throat felt like sandpaper and my nose is red and raw.
Because! Kicking! Nine weeks on Sunday!
The only baby-related bad news was that my progesterone is still only seventeen, which is the bare minimum my particular practice likes to see before putting you on supplements. That means it has gone up a bit since the initial draw, when it was fifteen something, but it's still awfully low compared to normal women's. Also, the corpus luteum (the thing that produces progesterone and keeps the yolk sac, which the baby survives off of, healthy until the placenta takes over) was pretty small and kind of barely hanging in there. It just has to stay functioning for about a week longer though, and then the placenta will be producing progesterone and the baby won't need me to do it anymore. Which is good, cause I suck at progesterone making. But, whatever. I managed to make enough this time- just barely!- to keep the baby going this far, so hopefully I can churn out enough to get us through the next week or so and then we should be golden.
Monday, March 08, 2010
Half The Time It Might As Well Be A Sugar Pill
Okay, I really wanted to try to post about something other than pregnancy today! I did! But the first thing I thought of to say was: even though I usually hate jello, Jim insisted on making me some and it is in fact tasting sort of comforting to the tummmy. But still. Jiggly food. Oh and also: peppermint tea, especially ICED peppermint tea, has been a lifesaver lately. I highly recommend. Especially, say, if you happen to be feeling kind of sick anyways and then you're sitting in the backseat of your van during a carpooling situation and THEN you get horrible hiccups that start making you want to gag each time... Some tea after that might be helpful. I've been keeping a big iced pitcher of it and guzzling it down all day, actually.
So yeah. The Zofran is helping, I think, as I'm spending a lot less time actually running off to the bathroom to try to throw up. But I can't say I'm feeling quite as magically cured as I did a few days ago, especially since now I have some kind of sore throat/cough thing and every time I've had a big coughing fit today I end up retching and dry heaving. Swistle, I seem to remember your having a terrible first trimester cough/barfing issue during your last pregnancy, yes?
I was filling out my paperwork for my Official First Prenatal Visit this Wednesday (even though it will actually be the fourth time I've been in- and, why do I even have to have an Obstetrical Education appointment? I've been pregnant once or twice before!) and got to the part about birth preferences. There is a big part of me that really, REALLY wants to try a water birth. I know I want to go without an epidural or drugs again if everything falls into place without induction or whatever, but I'm all for any ways to naturally reduce pain. And also reduce the chance of- well, there's no delicate way to say this, so, TEARING, ok? Would like to avoid that. And I've heard great things about water birth in terms of eliminating or reducing both of those above things, and I'm finally seeing a doctor who's willing to DO a water birth, so it seems like the obvious choice.
But. I can't seem to get past the ick factor. I mean, you're in there... with everything. Bodily fluids aplenty. It's not like you can push the baby out and then jump up immediately and hop on the bed before anything else BESIDES the baby comes out, you know? Yet it sounds so appealing and relaxing, the whole water thing. Do you think I could tell them I want a water birth all the way until the actual birth part? Like, "Keep that tub warm and filled throughout labor, but then as soon as I'm ready to push, drag me out and throw me up on the bed, m'kay?"
So yeah. The Zofran is helping, I think, as I'm spending a lot less time actually running off to the bathroom to try to throw up. But I can't say I'm feeling quite as magically cured as I did a few days ago, especially since now I have some kind of sore throat/cough thing and every time I've had a big coughing fit today I end up retching and dry heaving. Swistle, I seem to remember your having a terrible first trimester cough/barfing issue during your last pregnancy, yes?
I was filling out my paperwork for my Official First Prenatal Visit this Wednesday (even though it will actually be the fourth time I've been in- and, why do I even have to have an Obstetrical Education appointment? I've been pregnant once or twice before!) and got to the part about birth preferences. There is a big part of me that really, REALLY wants to try a water birth. I know I want to go without an epidural or drugs again if everything falls into place without induction or whatever, but I'm all for any ways to naturally reduce pain. And also reduce the chance of- well, there's no delicate way to say this, so, TEARING, ok? Would like to avoid that. And I've heard great things about water birth in terms of eliminating or reducing both of those above things, and I'm finally seeing a doctor who's willing to DO a water birth, so it seems like the obvious choice.
But. I can't seem to get past the ick factor. I mean, you're in there... with everything. Bodily fluids aplenty. It's not like you can push the baby out and then jump up immediately and hop on the bed before anything else BESIDES the baby comes out, you know? Yet it sounds so appealing and relaxing, the whole water thing. Do you think I could tell them I want a water birth all the way until the actual birth part? Like, "Keep that tub warm and filled throughout labor, but then as soon as I'm ready to push, drag me out and throw me up on the bed, m'kay?"
Friday, March 05, 2010
This Baby's College Fund Is Going To Buy My OB A New Boat
Hello, all. Everything's fine over here, though we had yet another scare and it was back to the doctor yesterday! I started bleeding again about four days ago (on top of the unrelenting nausea) and at first I hesitated to rush back to the doctor, since she had said some spotting was probably inevitable given the bleed near my cervix. Yesterday it got a lot worse though, so I finally called and went in for an ultrasound, and boy am I glad I did.
You remember that second sac they saw on my last ultrasound? Now they're saying it was never a second sac at all, but a pooling of blood from a subchorionic hematoma. It unfortunately has gotten a lot bigger since the last ultrasound. You can see a jagged, clotted edge where it's trying to heal itself, but it's just not doing a very good job, most likely because of the baby aspirin I'm on for my clotting disorder. Baby is still fine, thank goodness, measuring exactly right and with a heartbeat of one sixty two this week, which is great. But the bleeding is such that now the doctor is worried it might leak behind the sac where the baby is still implanting in the uterus and cause problems, so they want me to stop the aspirin immediately to try to get it to heal up and stop spreading.
It's weird- if a hematoma is diagnosed later in a pregnancy they sometimes recommend aspirin to try to bleed the clot right out of your uterus, but this early in pregnancy there's a danger that if the whole clot comes out it will trigger a miscarriage, so they try to avoid that scenario, obviously. Ugh. It's just one of those frustrating wait and see situations, and I certainly don't enjoy having the odds of miscarriage raised even more. All I can do is try to take it easy, and go in for weekly ultrasounds to monitor the progress/deterioration of the stupid thing.
I swear, it seems I can never get through a pregnancy without some complication or another. Maybe at least I'll get them all over with at the beginning this time, and by the end it'll be smooth sailing, no sign of heartburn or stretch marks or incontinence or constant false labor or bedrest... Nothing but a serene pregnant lady who still has a visible jawline and normal looking ankles, rubbing her belly and glowing and blissfully folding onesies, just like in the magazines at my doctor's office. Bwah ha ha ha.
Well. Sarcastic laughter aside, I am still delighted that as of today, I am seven weeks, five days pregnant, and without progesterone supplements or Clomid or trigger shots or anything! Just a spontaneous weekend getaway, a wing and a prayer, and our optimism, which seems to spring eternal (perhaps even irrational.) And I still believe everything's going to be okay this time. I may end up on bedrest much sooner if the bleed gets bigger or won't go away, but hey, that was pretty much inevitable anyways, right?
I may seem weirdly cheerful today, I know, but it's all thanks to a prescription of Zofran which I finally got up the courage to ask for yesterday. I had held off on asking for it even though I've been thinking of it for weeks now, since I'm not really actively barfing all day. Instead, I just feel constantly seasick and spend a lot of time either fighting off the desire to throw up or trying unsuccessfully to throw up, thinking even that might feel better than my current misery. The effort of fighting the sick feeling has been leaving me constantly shaky and fatigued and wrung out feeling, with only brief respites here and there when I would eat some magical, impossible-to-replicate combination of foods which seemed to stave off the sick for a few hours. I was getting nothing done around the house, doing nothing fun with the kids, and cooking nothing more ambitious than cold cheese sandwiches or soup, though even the smell of something warming on the stove sent me running.
So. I asked for the Zofran, and it was procured, and then the clouds parted and the angels sang and I wondered why on earth I waited to ask for it for even a single day. True, it leaves me a little tired and dazed feeling, and it hasn't magically eliminated ALL the nausea, but it is very manageable seeming today, and I even gave the kids baths and cleaned the bathroom and took us to the library and then made some lunch without retching and then managed to get on the computer without having the light from the computer screen send me gagging (yes, that's why I've been MIA lately, no kidding.) These are all things I would have had trouble with heretofore, so I'm pretty darn happy. Now I just need to get this pesky little subchorionic bleed under control and I'll be the perfectly happy pregnant woman.
You remember that second sac they saw on my last ultrasound? Now they're saying it was never a second sac at all, but a pooling of blood from a subchorionic hematoma. It unfortunately has gotten a lot bigger since the last ultrasound. You can see a jagged, clotted edge where it's trying to heal itself, but it's just not doing a very good job, most likely because of the baby aspirin I'm on for my clotting disorder. Baby is still fine, thank goodness, measuring exactly right and with a heartbeat of one sixty two this week, which is great. But the bleeding is such that now the doctor is worried it might leak behind the sac where the baby is still implanting in the uterus and cause problems, so they want me to stop the aspirin immediately to try to get it to heal up and stop spreading.
It's weird- if a hematoma is diagnosed later in a pregnancy they sometimes recommend aspirin to try to bleed the clot right out of your uterus, but this early in pregnancy there's a danger that if the whole clot comes out it will trigger a miscarriage, so they try to avoid that scenario, obviously. Ugh. It's just one of those frustrating wait and see situations, and I certainly don't enjoy having the odds of miscarriage raised even more. All I can do is try to take it easy, and go in for weekly ultrasounds to monitor the progress/deterioration of the stupid thing.
I swear, it seems I can never get through a pregnancy without some complication or another. Maybe at least I'll get them all over with at the beginning this time, and by the end it'll be smooth sailing, no sign of heartburn or stretch marks or incontinence or constant false labor or bedrest... Nothing but a serene pregnant lady who still has a visible jawline and normal looking ankles, rubbing her belly and glowing and blissfully folding onesies, just like in the magazines at my doctor's office. Bwah ha ha ha.
Well. Sarcastic laughter aside, I am still delighted that as of today, I am seven weeks, five days pregnant, and without progesterone supplements or Clomid or trigger shots or anything! Just a spontaneous weekend getaway, a wing and a prayer, and our optimism, which seems to spring eternal (perhaps even irrational.) And I still believe everything's going to be okay this time. I may end up on bedrest much sooner if the bleed gets bigger or won't go away, but hey, that was pretty much inevitable anyways, right?
I may seem weirdly cheerful today, I know, but it's all thanks to a prescription of Zofran which I finally got up the courage to ask for yesterday. I had held off on asking for it even though I've been thinking of it for weeks now, since I'm not really actively barfing all day. Instead, I just feel constantly seasick and spend a lot of time either fighting off the desire to throw up or trying unsuccessfully to throw up, thinking even that might feel better than my current misery. The effort of fighting the sick feeling has been leaving me constantly shaky and fatigued and wrung out feeling, with only brief respites here and there when I would eat some magical, impossible-to-replicate combination of foods which seemed to stave off the sick for a few hours. I was getting nothing done around the house, doing nothing fun with the kids, and cooking nothing more ambitious than cold cheese sandwiches or soup, though even the smell of something warming on the stove sent me running.
So. I asked for the Zofran, and it was procured, and then the clouds parted and the angels sang and I wondered why on earth I waited to ask for it for even a single day. True, it leaves me a little tired and dazed feeling, and it hasn't magically eliminated ALL the nausea, but it is very manageable seeming today, and I even gave the kids baths and cleaned the bathroom and took us to the library and then made some lunch without retching and then managed to get on the computer without having the light from the computer screen send me gagging (yes, that's why I've been MIA lately, no kidding.) These are all things I would have had trouble with heretofore, so I'm pretty darn happy. Now I just need to get this pesky little subchorionic bleed under control and I'll be the perfectly happy pregnant woman.
Friday, February 26, 2010
132 Beats Per Minute
You know what was a little heart wrenching? Having the ultrasound tech yesterday see yet another empty sac where there should have been a tiny nubbin with a heartbeat, and start asking me whether I was SURE about the dates of my last period, and only THEN, when I had gone numb all over and turned to stare at the ceiling, mentioning, "Oh, but there's another sac over here- and there's a heartbeat in this one." All casual-like, as though she hadn't just jerked Jim's and my heart up and down like a yo yo.
And yes, there it was, in between a weird, scar-like patch where she thinks the bleeding came from two weeks ago, and a lumpy, empty sac which presumably was my baby's vanishing twin, was a normal sac with a normal embryo measuring at six weeks four days, and a heartbeat, a heartbeat we even got to HEAR. I thought I would cry, for sure, but after the tech's initial comments about empty sacs and correct dates, I think I had literally steeled myself and was still somewhat in shock throughout the visit. Even once she saw a heartbeat, all I could do was say, "You're sure?" and then stare in disbelief at the snowy image, not trusting my eyes.
The weird thing is, I could have sworn that I saw two sacs even on that initial, five week ultrasound that the doctor did in the office after the bleeding episode. She only referred to one, in which she could see, just barely, a forming fetal pole, but I KNOW I saw two. I even mentioned it to Jim: "I think it might be twins," I voiced uncertainly. "I swear I saw two sacs today. But maybe she didn't want to get my hopes up yet in case it's one of those vanishing twin things?"
It also explains how quickly my tummy popped out, and how especially tender/nauseous/fatigued I've been. Must be some extra hormones in there, if there's still a second sac, so I guess my body still thinks it's having two right now.
Because of the second sac, and the weird "bleed" as they called it on the other side of the viable sac, I'll be getting another ultrasound in two weeks. They also said I could possibly have further bleeding at some point from one or both of these odd factors, but to definitely call and come in if I do. The doctor seemed a little nervous still given these variables, and frankly so am I, and yet... It's a remarkable thing, to see an ultrasound picture on the fridge door again. It's been a long time coming.
And yes, there it was, in between a weird, scar-like patch where she thinks the bleeding came from two weeks ago, and a lumpy, empty sac which presumably was my baby's vanishing twin, was a normal sac with a normal embryo measuring at six weeks four days, and a heartbeat, a heartbeat we even got to HEAR. I thought I would cry, for sure, but after the tech's initial comments about empty sacs and correct dates, I think I had literally steeled myself and was still somewhat in shock throughout the visit. Even once she saw a heartbeat, all I could do was say, "You're sure?" and then stare in disbelief at the snowy image, not trusting my eyes.
The weird thing is, I could have sworn that I saw two sacs even on that initial, five week ultrasound that the doctor did in the office after the bleeding episode. She only referred to one, in which she could see, just barely, a forming fetal pole, but I KNOW I saw two. I even mentioned it to Jim: "I think it might be twins," I voiced uncertainly. "I swear I saw two sacs today. But maybe she didn't want to get my hopes up yet in case it's one of those vanishing twin things?"
It also explains how quickly my tummy popped out, and how especially tender/nauseous/fatigued I've been. Must be some extra hormones in there, if there's still a second sac, so I guess my body still thinks it's having two right now.
Because of the second sac, and the weird "bleed" as they called it on the other side of the viable sac, I'll be getting another ultrasound in two weeks. They also said I could possibly have further bleeding at some point from one or both of these odd factors, but to definitely call and come in if I do. The doctor seemed a little nervous still given these variables, and frankly so am I, and yet... It's a remarkable thing, to see an ultrasound picture on the fridge door again. It's been a long time coming.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Nauseously Yours
Oh HAI. Yes, yes, I do realize that I have a blog, in fact, two now, and that I've been neglecting them both. I'm sorry. It's nothing bad that's kept me from being online the last five days. Or, rather, it's bad in the sense that I have NEVER and I mean NEVER felt this sick so early on in a pregnancy, but it's actually GOOD because that must mean the baby's doing well, right? At least, that's what I kept telling myself as I lay absolutely still on my bed last night, already exhausted and DONE for the day at eight pm, staring at a newborn picture of Eli and chanting to myself queasily, "This is worth it. This is worth it."
I finally gave in today and let myself throw up. I just hate throwing up so much, but fighting it all day and night long wasn't working too well. I think it was a good idea, because after three, um, SESSIONS, I am finally feeling marginally better this evening. Marginally, in that I actually made dinner for the first time in four days and I wiped down all the kitchen counters and cleaned the sticky off the kids' play table in the den and... that's it. It doesn't sound that impressive, but trust me that it's the most I've done in one afternoon in many days.
Thank goodness I have nice peoples, though. I mean, SERIOUSLY. Jim's been a rock star around the house with the kids and the groceries and the cooking and the tidying. My dear Jess is watching my kids tomorrow morning so I can either clean or vomit in peace, whichever fate decides. AND, my mom came over today, on her lunch break no less, and instead of eating, CLEANED OUR BATHROOM and did our dishes. So at least the second and third times, I got to gag over a clean toilet. It's the small things, folks.
I finally gave in today and let myself throw up. I just hate throwing up so much, but fighting it all day and night long wasn't working too well. I think it was a good idea, because after three, um, SESSIONS, I am finally feeling marginally better this evening. Marginally, in that I actually made dinner for the first time in four days and I wiped down all the kitchen counters and cleaned the sticky off the kids' play table in the den and... that's it. It doesn't sound that impressive, but trust me that it's the most I've done in one afternoon in many days.
Thank goodness I have nice peoples, though. I mean, SERIOUSLY. Jim's been a rock star around the house with the kids and the groceries and the cooking and the tidying. My dear Jess is watching my kids tomorrow morning so I can either clean or vomit in peace, whichever fate decides. AND, my mom came over today, on her lunch break no less, and instead of eating, CLEANED OUR BATHROOM and did our dishes. So at least the second and third times, I got to gag over a clean toilet. It's the small things, folks.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Info, Rambling
Quick update- My progesterone was 15.70 on Monday. That is... meh. Not fantastic. But I refuse to take any more progesterone supplements, despite being nagged about it from every single person in the doctor's office. I have tried it three stinking times with no success, and I feel like all it ever did for me was drag the process out, since progesterone keeps you from physically miscarrying even if the embryo has already failed. So I get to walk around thinking it's fine when it's not. I'm done with that, especially since there are no conclusive studies to show that progesterone supplements help improve the chances of a declining pregnancy. Even my doctor admitted the truth of that. So.
But on another note, I nearly barfed today; that's always an allegedly good sign, right? Also, craved: (and ate and felt much better for it) cold pizza, Taco Bell, pineapple, and pink lemonade.
Another DEFINITELY good sign is that my hcg draw this morning had reassuring results: it rose from 4300 to 6600 since Monday morning. At first I panicked because it didn't double in forty eight hours, which I thought it was supposed to, but the nurse told me once the levels hit 4000 they don't expect them to double anymore, and that a fifty percent jump was very good. So. Okay.
I took Adelay to her dance class tonight and ran into a friend I hadn't seen for awhile but had heard through the grapevine was pregnant. We were chatting about baby stuff in general (though I didn't reveal my secret) and specifically OB's, when she shocked me by saying, "Yeah, I just love Dr. so and so. She was so great to me through all my miscarriages." Wha? I mean, I'm not best friends with her or anything, but I'm close friends with other people who are close friends with her, so I just kind of thought I would have known if she'd had multiple miscarriages.
Further discussion revealed that she, too, has had three losses and two live births, but her stories were even worse than mine. She's had one early loss, seven weeks along and ultrasound revealed a still empty sac, but the other two were at twelve and sixteen weeks, the part of pregnancy where you start to let your breath out and think you're in the clear. "Yeah," she shrugged. "We just kinda don't tell anyone we're expecting until I'm at least four months along now."
I personally feel the opposite way, after my experiences- for one thing, if I'm feeling sick or needing to procure childcare for frequent doctor's visits or whatever, it's really helpful to have family and friends who KNOW you're pregnant (and nervous) and are eager to help rather than wondering why you keep dumping your kids off, or napping in the middle of the day. And also, while the friend I talked to this evening said that she never wanted to have to tell and then UN-tell people about a coming baby ever again, I feel like sharing this pain helps with the healing. It would feel awful and unnatural to me to be grieving and have to try to mask it when I was around other people. I guess everyone's just different. Um, OBVIOUSLY- scintillating observation, there, Sarah!
But that's just a side topic, there. My main point was, WOW. Here's someone with two kids and three losses, and I had no idea. Another woman chimed into our conversation, too, saying that she'd had a miscarriage before having any live births, and that she was totally blindsided and thought she must be "barren or something." I got to thinking about how many people I KNOW OF who have had at least one miscarriage, and then wondering how many people have that I just DON'T know about. Why don't people talk about this more, so we aren't all so shocked and horrified upon experiencing it ourselves?
I mean, it never crossed my mind, as a young, healthy woman in my twenties, that I would have more than a remote chance of having even one loss, let alone three (and ONLY THREE, KNOCK ON WOOD.) But it happens, and not just to me, and sometimes for no reason that anyone can pinpoint. You just have to keep trying and hoping. Nature is a cruel, fickle beast, but it sure would help if we could at least WARN each other about her ways a little more.
So, PSA! Miscarriage: It's not just for other people! Also, you are not a freak of nature or an inferior woman just because you happen to release a defective egg or your body doesn't like to produce certain hormones. You are just a human being, and subject to the whims of your body like everyone else. And... It sucks. Hang in there. One of these days, we are going to have us a baby, okay?
But on another note, I nearly barfed today; that's always an allegedly good sign, right? Also, craved: (and ate and felt much better for it) cold pizza, Taco Bell, pineapple, and pink lemonade.
Another DEFINITELY good sign is that my hcg draw this morning had reassuring results: it rose from 4300 to 6600 since Monday morning. At first I panicked because it didn't double in forty eight hours, which I thought it was supposed to, but the nurse told me once the levels hit 4000 they don't expect them to double anymore, and that a fifty percent jump was very good. So. Okay.
I took Adelay to her dance class tonight and ran into a friend I hadn't seen for awhile but had heard through the grapevine was pregnant. We were chatting about baby stuff in general (though I didn't reveal my secret) and specifically OB's, when she shocked me by saying, "Yeah, I just love Dr. so and so. She was so great to me through all my miscarriages." Wha? I mean, I'm not best friends with her or anything, but I'm close friends with other people who are close friends with her, so I just kind of thought I would have known if she'd had multiple miscarriages.
Further discussion revealed that she, too, has had three losses and two live births, but her stories were even worse than mine. She's had one early loss, seven weeks along and ultrasound revealed a still empty sac, but the other two were at twelve and sixteen weeks, the part of pregnancy where you start to let your breath out and think you're in the clear. "Yeah," she shrugged. "We just kinda don't tell anyone we're expecting until I'm at least four months along now."
I personally feel the opposite way, after my experiences- for one thing, if I'm feeling sick or needing to procure childcare for frequent doctor's visits or whatever, it's really helpful to have family and friends who KNOW you're pregnant (and nervous) and are eager to help rather than wondering why you keep dumping your kids off, or napping in the middle of the day. And also, while the friend I talked to this evening said that she never wanted to have to tell and then UN-tell people about a coming baby ever again, I feel like sharing this pain helps with the healing. It would feel awful and unnatural to me to be grieving and have to try to mask it when I was around other people. I guess everyone's just different. Um, OBVIOUSLY- scintillating observation, there, Sarah!
But that's just a side topic, there. My main point was, WOW. Here's someone with two kids and three losses, and I had no idea. Another woman chimed into our conversation, too, saying that she'd had a miscarriage before having any live births, and that she was totally blindsided and thought she must be "barren or something." I got to thinking about how many people I KNOW OF who have had at least one miscarriage, and then wondering how many people have that I just DON'T know about. Why don't people talk about this more, so we aren't all so shocked and horrified upon experiencing it ourselves?
I mean, it never crossed my mind, as a young, healthy woman in my twenties, that I would have more than a remote chance of having even one loss, let alone three (and ONLY THREE, KNOCK ON WOOD.) But it happens, and not just to me, and sometimes for no reason that anyone can pinpoint. You just have to keep trying and hoping. Nature is a cruel, fickle beast, but it sure would help if we could at least WARN each other about her ways a little more.
So, PSA! Miscarriage: It's not just for other people! Also, you are not a freak of nature or an inferior woman just because you happen to release a defective egg or your body doesn't like to produce certain hormones. You are just a human being, and subject to the whims of your body like everyone else. And... It sucks. Hang in there. One of these days, we are going to have us a baby, okay?
Monday, February 15, 2010
Still Sticking
Oh. Oh oh oh. The baby is still there- or at least, there's a visible sac, and it's where it should be, not descending into my cervix or anything ominous. My hcg is really good, too, 4300.
Initially, the doctor said she wasn't even going to try a sonogram since it was so early, which of course left me wilted with disappointment. She just examined me to make sure my cervix wasn't opening, and did a culture of the blood left near my cervix. She then left the room, told me to get dressed, and went to see if my lab results had gotten faxed yet. A few minutes later the nurse came back in, informing me I had to undress again because my hcg was so high the doctor thought maybe she would be able to see something in my uterus, after all. And indeed she did. A lovely, lovely blob of baby material.
And now I will go collapse on my Victorian fainting couch and sniff smelling salts for the rest of the afternoon, if you don't mind. Good grief, what an emotional wringer. So much for avoiding stress. I feel like a limp noodle after the last fifteen hours of my emotions zinging from sobbing in despair to shaking with relief. Happy, fun times.
Initially, the doctor said she wasn't even going to try a sonogram since it was so early, which of course left me wilted with disappointment. She just examined me to make sure my cervix wasn't opening, and did a culture of the blood left near my cervix. She then left the room, told me to get dressed, and went to see if my lab results had gotten faxed yet. A few minutes later the nurse came back in, informing me I had to undress again because my hcg was so high the doctor thought maybe she would be able to see something in my uterus, after all. And indeed she did. A lovely, lovely blob of baby material.
And now I will go collapse on my Victorian fainting couch and sniff smelling salts for the rest of the afternoon, if you don't mind. Good grief, what an emotional wringer. So much for avoiding stress. I feel like a limp noodle after the last fifteen hours of my emotions zinging from sobbing in despair to shaking with relief. Happy, fun times.
Hang In There, Baby
Two things:
1) Yes, my husband actually did that down there. Id'n he the sweetest?
2) I had a pretty severe bleeding incident last night, followed by a pretty severe meltdown, complete with hysterical sobbing and demanding of, "Why, why, why is this happening again?" I assumed it was the beginning of the end, went to bed with a towel under me, and stared bleakly at the wall while I waited for the night to be over.
But then I woke up and nothing had happened. No bleeding in the night, no clots or tissue or anything to indicate an actual miscarriage. No cramping, even. And I'm not spotting at all this morning. I called the doctor, had my blood drawn at nine, and I'm going into the office for an ultrasound at twelve fifteen. I stopped at the store on my way home from the lab and got a pregnancy test, thinking that if I were miscarrying, the positive line would be really faint, probably, or even gone altogether.
Well. The positive strip turned dark purple the second the urine hit it- I mean, it's even darker than the control line. So that... has to be good, right? Right? And for whatever reason, I FEEL good. I feel like it's going to be okay somehow.
I'll update later. Please please, pray for me, think positive thoughts, whisper to the baby to STAY PUT- whatever you can think of.
1) Yes, my husband actually did that down there. Id'n he the sweetest?
2) I had a pretty severe bleeding incident last night, followed by a pretty severe meltdown, complete with hysterical sobbing and demanding of, "Why, why, why is this happening again?" I assumed it was the beginning of the end, went to bed with a towel under me, and stared bleakly at the wall while I waited for the night to be over.
But then I woke up and nothing had happened. No bleeding in the night, no clots or tissue or anything to indicate an actual miscarriage. No cramping, even. And I'm not spotting at all this morning. I called the doctor, had my blood drawn at nine, and I'm going into the office for an ultrasound at twelve fifteen. I stopped at the store on my way home from the lab and got a pregnancy test, thinking that if I were miscarrying, the positive line would be really faint, probably, or even gone altogether.
Well. The positive strip turned dark purple the second the urine hit it- I mean, it's even darker than the control line. So that... has to be good, right? Right? And for whatever reason, I FEEL good. I feel like it's going to be okay somehow.
I'll update later. Please please, pray for me, think positive thoughts, whisper to the baby to STAY PUT- whatever you can think of.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Happy Valentine's Day
Dear Sarah,
Happy Valentine's Day sweetie. In lieu of a card, I decided to hack into your blogger account and post a letter to you. I thought it would make for a fun surprise plus you know how i feel about Hallmark.
We exchanged vows nearly six years ago but it was November 2003,
the day I got on my knees to plead for your hand, that I pledged my life to you.
Through highs and lows, my adoration, my love for you still grows.
My life yet pledged to you.
We've welcomed a son and daughter, though now spread, my dedication will never falter
My life yet pledged to you.
Tragedy has affected us, saddened us, but my will to comfort you is ever present, albeit novice.
My life yet pledged to you.
Our finances have struggled at times, but I will always do what I can to provide
My life yet pledged to you.
Though this "poem" is short, it is most heart felt.
My life yet pledged to you.
While these are only words, I pledge to back them up with some action (wink wink).
I Love You,
Jim
Happy Valentine's Day sweetie. In lieu of a card, I decided to hack into your blogger account and post a letter to you. I thought it would make for a fun surprise plus you know how i feel about Hallmark.
We exchanged vows nearly six years ago but it was November 2003,
the day I got on my knees to plead for your hand, that I pledged my life to you.
Through highs and lows, my adoration, my love for you still grows.
My life yet pledged to you.
We've welcomed a son and daughter, though now spread, my dedication will never falter
My life yet pledged to you.
Tragedy has affected us, saddened us, but my will to comfort you is ever present, albeit novice.
My life yet pledged to you.
Our finances have struggled at times, but I will always do what I can to provide
My life yet pledged to you.
Though this "poem" is short, it is most heart felt.
My life yet pledged to you.
While these are only words, I pledge to back them up with some action (wink wink).
I Love You,
Jim
Friday, February 12, 2010
Check
Reassuring symptoms checklist:
-Fatigue. Yes. I am sleeping so hard I barely even dream anymore. And when I DO dream...
-Weird pregnancy dreams. Yep, already had one. Involving my ex and a strip club, so that fulfills BOTH caveats of the weird pregnancy dreams rule- sudden memories of exes or bizarre sexual elements! Well done, hormones!
-Toothpaste suddenly tastes WAAAY too strong. CHECK. As soon as I brush I feel the strong need to eat something to get that gaggy, gritty taste out of my mouth.
-Bras suddenly feel like torture devices. Actually, also the lack of bras. This is the most comforting one to me right now because this isn't something I've ever experienced much in the past except when I was on progesterone supplements... Which makes me hopeful that maybe it's my OWN progesterone causing this symptom. That would be quite novel! Sarah, producing a normal amount of a normal pregnancy-related hormone?!
-Fatigue. Yes. I am sleeping so hard I barely even dream anymore. And when I DO dream...
-Weird pregnancy dreams. Yep, already had one. Involving my ex and a strip club, so that fulfills BOTH caveats of the weird pregnancy dreams rule- sudden memories of exes or bizarre sexual elements! Well done, hormones!
-Toothpaste suddenly tastes WAAAY too strong. CHECK. As soon as I brush I feel the strong need to eat something to get that gaggy, gritty taste out of my mouth.
-Bras suddenly feel like torture devices. Actually, also the lack of bras. This is the most comforting one to me right now because this isn't something I've ever experienced much in the past except when I was on progesterone supplements... Which makes me hopeful that maybe it's my OWN progesterone causing this symptom. That would be quite novel! Sarah, producing a normal amount of a normal pregnancy-related hormone?!
Monday, February 08, 2010
Isn't It Ironic
So the problem with seeing multiple doctors is that there's a lot of conflicting and complicated advise. One doctor believes that my best chance at carrying this baby is to reduce stress as much as possible so that my hormones can function properly. I am to JUST STAY CALM above all else- and take all sorts of supplements to help with this calmness and mental health (Omega-3 oil, Cyrofood, Calcium Lactate and Cataplex D, all from the Standard Process line.) On the other hand, the OB wants me to call the second I get a positive test, get blood draws every forty eight hours, and have a viability ultrasound around six weeks. I haven't actually DONE any of those things yet. I haven't even told my OB I'm pregnant, in fact.
My supplements came today in the mail, and after some internet research to make sure they're ok, I think I'm going to take all of them except the Stress-Ez (Deseret Biologicals) which contains gingko biloba and is advised against during pregnancy. The fact that the doctor went ahead and sent it to me even AFTER being told about the pregnancy makes me trust his advise less about other supplements, however, so I still feel a little iffy about taking any of it until I talk to my OB and make sure it's ok during pregnancy.
That, however, would require TELLING her that yes, I'm pregnant, but that I don't care to do all the blood draws and super-early ultrasounds this time. This time the name of the game is wait and see. I'm sure she'll at least understand that decision, since we've gone the early intervention route numerous times without success. Surely she'll get it, that this time I just want to curl up around my belly and hibernate for a few weeks in blissful ignorance before doing all that official pregnancy stuff, right? I just want to give my body the chance to either accept or reject this baby on its own, without manipulating hormones and delaying/making worse the inevitable if it's not a healthy pregnancy. None of that has done any good in the past anyways.
BUT. I'm an Authority Pleaser, so I really don't like consulting with doctors without doing exactly what they're telling me, or even what I think they WANT me to do, even if they don't say it outright. My instinct is to be a model patient, but what I've become is a consumer, picking and choosing which advise and treatment I think is applicable and appropriate for my situation. I'm fine with this, mentally. But actually explaining my position out loud, especially over the phone, is daunting.
Ah well. Time to suck it up. How ironic, though, that the supplements which were supposed to REDUCE mental tension and anxiety are now CAUSING it. We all know how much I love me some irony!
My supplements came today in the mail, and after some internet research to make sure they're ok, I think I'm going to take all of them except the Stress-Ez (Deseret Biologicals) which contains gingko biloba and is advised against during pregnancy. The fact that the doctor went ahead and sent it to me even AFTER being told about the pregnancy makes me trust his advise less about other supplements, however, so I still feel a little iffy about taking any of it until I talk to my OB and make sure it's ok during pregnancy.
That, however, would require TELLING her that yes, I'm pregnant, but that I don't care to do all the blood draws and super-early ultrasounds this time. This time the name of the game is wait and see. I'm sure she'll at least understand that decision, since we've gone the early intervention route numerous times without success. Surely she'll get it, that this time I just want to curl up around my belly and hibernate for a few weeks in blissful ignorance before doing all that official pregnancy stuff, right? I just want to give my body the chance to either accept or reject this baby on its own, without manipulating hormones and delaying/making worse the inevitable if it's not a healthy pregnancy. None of that has done any good in the past anyways.
BUT. I'm an Authority Pleaser, so I really don't like consulting with doctors without doing exactly what they're telling me, or even what I think they WANT me to do, even if they don't say it outright. My instinct is to be a model patient, but what I've become is a consumer, picking and choosing which advise and treatment I think is applicable and appropriate for my situation. I'm fine with this, mentally. But actually explaining my position out loud, especially over the phone, is daunting.
Ah well. Time to suck it up. How ironic, though, that the supplements which were supposed to REDUCE mental tension and anxiety are now CAUSING it. We all know how much I love me some irony!
Friday, February 05, 2010
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
Cheese. It's What's For EVERY SINGLE MEAL.
I need some meal planning help. Not for evening dinners, which are actually going pretty well so far this year, but for lunches. I get so bored and weary trying to pull together lunches that my kids will both eat. The main problem is how to sneak in some protein. I try not to use packaged chicken nuggets or fish sticks much, though they both will eat them. I don't mind getting fast food now and then, but I don't really want processed, nitrate filled meat particles becoming a staple in our kitchen.
This leaves me with... Cheese. Seriously. They won't eat hamburgers, Addy won't eat deli meat (Eli will but rarely,) and suddenly doesn't want PIZZA, for goodness' sake. Even before, it had to be PLAIN CHEESE pizza, none of this pepperoni crap. Which I guess is also a processed, nitrate filled meat. Sigh. They both hate hot dogs, they hate chicken noodle soup- they won't eat RAVIOLI, or any pasta with meat sauce. Addy won't even touch it if it has marinara sauce on it. Parmesan ONLY, please.
They will eat regular old chicken, shredded up, sans any seasoning or sauce whatsoever. Eli will occasionally eat shredded up pork or beef. But in general they are VERY picky about meat stuff, and so the only protein they get on a daily basis is whatever they get from dairy items, eggs, and peanut butter, and then whatever I make for dinner. Which, I should note, they usually reject after a bite because I refuse to cook plain noodles, plain chicken, and plain green beans every single night just so we can all eat the same thing. So then they eat pb and j again.
Here's the stuff that I can count on to get eaten at lunch, at least usually: cheese and crackers and fruit; grilled cheese, apples, and a veggie; macaroni and cheese (homemade only, no boxed stuff for my little gourmands!) and a fruit and veggie. And... that's about it. Oh, or scrambled eggs, WITH CHEESE. They both are usually up for that. We do breakfast lunches (and dinners) a lot, actually. I'm just a little concerned about the lack of variety and the predominance of cheese in their diet... It doesn't seem that that much cheese could be good for anyone's... digestive processes, if you see what I'm getting at.
Any suggestions for possible protein sources I'm forgetting? Or ideas for something besides CHEESE for lunch?
This leaves me with... Cheese. Seriously. They won't eat hamburgers, Addy won't eat deli meat (Eli will but rarely,) and suddenly doesn't want PIZZA, for goodness' sake. Even before, it had to be PLAIN CHEESE pizza, none of this pepperoni crap. Which I guess is also a processed, nitrate filled meat. Sigh. They both hate hot dogs, they hate chicken noodle soup- they won't eat RAVIOLI, or any pasta with meat sauce. Addy won't even touch it if it has marinara sauce on it. Parmesan ONLY, please.
They will eat regular old chicken, shredded up, sans any seasoning or sauce whatsoever. Eli will occasionally eat shredded up pork or beef. But in general they are VERY picky about meat stuff, and so the only protein they get on a daily basis is whatever they get from dairy items, eggs, and peanut butter, and then whatever I make for dinner. Which, I should note, they usually reject after a bite because I refuse to cook plain noodles, plain chicken, and plain green beans every single night just so we can all eat the same thing. So then they eat pb and j again.
Here's the stuff that I can count on to get eaten at lunch, at least usually: cheese and crackers and fruit; grilled cheese, apples, and a veggie; macaroni and cheese (homemade only, no boxed stuff for my little gourmands!) and a fruit and veggie. And... that's about it. Oh, or scrambled eggs, WITH CHEESE. They both are usually up for that. We do breakfast lunches (and dinners) a lot, actually. I'm just a little concerned about the lack of variety and the predominance of cheese in their diet... It doesn't seem that that much cheese could be good for anyone's... digestive processes, if you see what I'm getting at.
Any suggestions for possible protein sources I'm forgetting? Or ideas for something besides CHEESE for lunch?
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
Once Upon A Time, On A Misty Hilltop, There Was An Enchanted Castle With Central Air And Indoor Plumbing
So here's a little tour of ze castle we went to two weekends back. That I spent the following week pining for. Ah well. 'Tis better to have loved and lost/Than never to have loved. Or so I hear.
This was the view from the tower. Which was very small and enclosed, and which one reached via a very unstable-seeming spiral staircase that left me happy I had worn flats. And which reminded me that I do indeed still have a touch of claustrophobia.
This was the view from the tower. Which was very small and enclosed, and which one reached via a very unstable-seeming spiral staircase that left me happy I had worn flats. And which reminded me that I do indeed still have a touch of claustrophobia.
Monday, February 01, 2010
***coughcough oh hey I have new blog now coughcough***
I feel a little shy about this, but I sort of started another blog. Nothing fun and flashy like a review blog or a fashion blog or a cooking blog- no, this would be more like a whining blog. Er, venting, not whining, exactly. Except more constructive than venting, because the idea is to get helpful or at least interesting feedback. So it's a...
Oh, right. It's a blog blog. Well. Just come look, please?
Oh, right. It's a blog blog. Well. Just come look, please?
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