kapachino

Category: pregnancy

  • eighteen weeks

    I hope y’all don’t mind me doing these pregnancy updates. It took me a long time to get here so I want to at least write about it from time to time. I’m a little over eighteen weeks at this point, and here’s what’s going on:

    Symptoms: I now have a ravenous appetite unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. It’s kind of awesome considering two months ago I didn’t ever know if I would enjoy food again, but it’s hard to keep under control. I also get almost-daily headaches, and Tylenol doesn’t usually cut it. I got a massage the other day, but it didn’t seem to help much either. Possibly it’s just hormone-related, or possibly I need several more massages. I like the second option better. I dry heave every night when I brush my teeth, without fail. Apparently my gag reflex is super sensitive now, and the taste of my toothpaste reminds me of all my first trimester nausea.

    Medical stuff: I’m still taking iron supplements which are no fun. My blood pressure remains excellent. I am now up about 8 pounds according to my doctor, which is fine for how far along I am, only I’m alarmed since I gained it all in four weeks. Pretty sure it’s mostly due to the aforementioned appetite. From here on out I’m focusing more on healthy foods and I’m going to attempt to get back into light exercise.

    Movement: I’m pretty sure that I feel the baby fluttering around in there from time to time, but I can’t be sure. I know the real kicks won’t come for probably a few more weeks, but that doesn’t stop me from trying to feel it now. I can’t wait for that.

    Clothes: I’ve never been so thankful to wear scrubs every day to work as I am now. I’m hoping to stay in the same scrub pants throughout my pregnancy since they have a drawstring. As you can see, my belly still isn’t very big but it’s big enough to make my normal jeans a bit uncomfortable, especially after I eat. Usually I either wear them normally or do the rubber band loop. The only major change I’ve had to make is to purchase new bras. Didn’t really expect that so early.

    Preparation: Sometimes I worry because I really haven’t done much at all to prepare for having a baby in my life. There is a to-do list a mile long that I have yet to tackle. But you know what I have been doing? Reading for pleasure. Watching lots of movies. Going to bed early and sleeping late on the weekends. Planning short vacations for this spring. I know these are things that I will soon consider a luxury, so I’m enjoying them and counting it as its own form of preparation.

    Also: We have our big anatomy scan in a week and a half, so say a prayer that everything is as it should be. Yes, we will be finding out the sex and probably I will share with you. I’m hoping that being able to think of the baby as my son or daughter will help me feel more of a connection to it, because right now I still have a hard time believing that this is actually happening.

  • stuff and things and whatnot

    So it’s February now, and I want to admit that I completely, utterly, and rather spectacularly failed at my January goals. Apparently I overestimated the amount of work I can get done during the week, and underestimated pregnancy tiredness. Here’s a summary:

    I meant to…

    • Declutter the whole house, but I only did my bathroom and one drawer in the kitchen
    • Exercise once a week, but I only did yoga once
    • Walk the dogs twice a week, but I only took Oliver twice
    • Accomplish two nagging tasks, but I didn’t do any of them

    I’m okay with this. These are just going to have to become ongoing goals. I discovered that I’m really not going to be getting much done after work during the week other than daily chores, and if I don’t block out some time on the weekends to work on projects then the time will be taken up by social outings or TV show marathons.

    In other news, my birthday is on Saturday so I’m celebrating all week long as usual. Even though I was given a not-so-welcome gift of freezing cold weather, I’m still having a great week. Work has been going so well, David and I have had a couple of relaxing nights together, I have some fun plans for this weekend, and I let myself order a few things that I’ve had my eye on. I love birthday week.

    I have no pregnancy updates for you, considering I’m still not really showing and I haven’t felt the baby move yet. It’s pretty hard not to get anxious about it, but I’m trying my best because I know this is normal. I could do without the almost-daily hormonal headaches, but it’s an even trade for the return of my voracious appetite.

    Anyway, to bring this bit of rambling full circle, this month I plan to continue working on the house, focus on my marriage a la The Happiness Project, and hopefully thoroughly enjoy myself. How about you?

  • fourteen weeks

    Here I am at fourteen weeks pregnant, officially into the second trimester, and my baby is alive and kicking! I mean, I can’t actually feel it kicking, but it’s doing something of the sort. Squirming, at least.

    Can’t see anything? How about a closer look:

    Still nothing? Yeah, I don’t see much either. But let’s compare to two months ago (when it was hot and I wore a tank top; now I refuse to wear anything that isn’t warm).

    A little bit of difference, right? I mean, you can no longer see my rippling abdominal muscles. Although it could just be bloating. That is very, very possible.

    The first trimester was okay. My relationship with food changed a lot and I dry heaved more than I ever have but at least I never threw up. I gained a grand total of one pound and slept a lot. I discovered I am anemic and am now forced to take iron supplements. I put my vegetarianism on hold (although I still only eat meat part-time) because it was too new to withstand all these changes and I didn’t want to stress about food. We skipped the screening tests for genetic disorders and I found a new OB that I love. We’re starting to make decisions about the future like what kind of birth we want and names.

    Our baby is apparently now the size of a lemon. It is constantly moving around (as I saw on the ultrasound) and has a good, strong heartbeat. We don’t have a nickname for it, and we haven’t decided yet if we’re going to find out the sex. (We probably will.)

    I am feeling mostly great these days. I sleep well, I eat well, I work well. I’m trying to use this time to get things accomplished, because I don’t expect this energy to last. I still go to bed super early, but that also might be because I have to wake up before 5 a.m.

    David is so incredibly cute when he talks about becoming a dad. When my doctor offhandedly mentioned a book about nutrition to me, he brought it home that night. He bought a parenting book for himself. He tells everyone the one name that we both like (for a boy, because it will be a miracle if I produce a girl) even though we haven’t even considered other names and we’re far from decided. He’s making positive changes in his life because he knows that soon he’ll be an example for our child. I can’t wait to see him as a dad.

  • take two

    Let me tell you one thing that’s really on my mind these days.

    My husband David and I were finally able to have an IUI in early November. It was two years coming, a rough two years during which we experienced miscarriage, depression, major surgeries, and financial difficulty, but they were also two of the best years of my life because I spent them with David.

    Everyone who deals with infertility has a different experience. I feel extremely blessed that I am able to get pregnant at all, but our journey hasn’t been easy. Although we haven’t had to undergo countless procedures, we have been forced to wait what seems like a long time because of one obstacle or another.

    Two weeks after the procedure we couldn’t stand it any longer and took a home pregnancy test. It was positive. Then we took another one. Positive. I think I was kind of in shock. David was ecstatic, and he kept asking me, “Why aren’t you happy?” Of course I was, and am, happy, but the first thing I felt was scared. My miscarriage was the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through, and it’s still fresh on my mind. I really, really, don’t want that to happen again. For the first couple of weeks I noticed that I mostly tried not to think about it at all, because I didn’t want to get my hopes up.

    At the same time, I don’t want to live in fear. And I don’t think it will help the situation at all to be constantly worried. So my intention has been to remain positive, and to think about this pregnancy as being successful. It’s hard some days, but now? At nine weeks, after two successful ultrasounds showing one strong heartbeat?

    I’m excited.

  • this is what it’s really like (on miscarriage)

    I confess that before this week I lived in complete and utter ignorance when it came to miscarriages. I was under the naïve impression that if it happened fairly early on, that everything just came out in a rush, all at once, and then it was over with. I pictured it kind of like when a woman’s water breaks before she goes into labor – messy, but very little physical pain.

    Ha. Hahahahaha.

    When I first began bleeding this week, and I knew what was happening, I called my doctor’s office and also spoke with several friends who had had miscarriages in the past. They all told me the same thing: it’s like a heavy period. And since I’ve had some pretty bad periods in my life, I thought I’d be able to handle it just fine. I thought I’d be back at work on Thursday, or at the latest Friday. Well, maybe for some people it is like that. But for me, it wasn’t even comparable.

    When this all started on Tuesday, my body didn’t hurt too badly. I spent most of the day in bed just because I didn’t feel up for anything else. On Wednesday morning I was still planning on going back to work the next day, so I got up, took a shower, and got dressed. Almost right afterward some pretty bad cramps hit, so I changed out of my jeans and into some PJ pants and crawled back into bed. It was at this point that the heating pad (which is now practically attached to me) made its first appearance and I began popping ibuprofen like candy. I spent that day sleeping, reading, and watching HGTV with my mom. Between her and my husband I didn’t have to leave my bed for anything other than to go to the bathroom.

    Since Wednesday had been harder than I expected, I went ahead and called in sick to work on Thursday. I still thought that the worst had passed, but at 1 a.m. on Thursday I was woken up by the most terrible pain I’ve ever experienced in my life. It steadily increased for two hours until I was crying, writhing, and wailing. The only sentence I could get out was, “God, you have to help me,” which I cried over and over. I felt like my insides were being ripped out of my body. We considered going to the ER, but I had a feeling the pain would pass, and it eventually did. I slept for a couple of hours before more cramps woke me up, although these were bearable in comparison.

    Thursday morning was spent bedbound, and although I felt better, I was eventually persuaded to call my doctor. She called in a prescription for Vicodin, but at this point I didn’t think I’d need it. I thought that surely, this time, the worst was over.

    David had been home with me this whole time, but he happened to have a doctor’s appointment himself that afternoon that he couldn’t miss. He wanted to pick up my prescription for me before he left, but it wasn’t ready yet. I was feeling good, so I let him go. The next hour was one that I wish I could blot out of my life, but I know it will be seared on my mind forever.

    The pain came back suddenly, even worse than before. I don’t know how I did it, but somehow I managed to drive myself to the pharmacy, pick up my prescription, and drive home. I am proud that I did this without fainting, getting in a wreck, or vomiting all over my car. It was by far the hardest task I have ever had to do, because I felt like I was going to explode. I thought I was living the last moments of my life.

    I barely made it in my door and to the bathroom before my body accomplished what it had been trying to do: push my baby out of my body. I will never forget the plop it made in the water, or the way it felt sliding out of me. I didn’t realize it would be so big. I thought it had already gone, and I wasn’t prepared. I cried and cried. I said goodbye again.

    After that, the worst of the physical pain really was over, although I was not free of significant cramping. I made a conscious decision that I wasn’t going to throw up, took a Vicodin, got into bed, and called my sister-in-law because I couldn’t be alone. She came over as soon as she could and spent some time crying with me and praying for me. After I had grieved myself dry, we lay there together and relaxed. I knew that I had just lived through the worst day of my life so far, and it could only get better from there.

    Today I’m recovering. I have very little pain now. I was able to shower, dress, and do a few chores already today, and plan to make a trip to Target with my sister-in-law later which I am really looking forward to. I don’t have to go back to work until Monday, and even then my manager told me to only come if I’m really ready. I’m still quite weak and have very little appetite, but I’ve turned a corner.

    So that’s the ugly story of my miscarriage. I didn’t realize I could live through such pain. Before this, I thought I wanted to have a natural childbirth. I still like that idea, but if it is anything like what I went through this week, I don’t know if I can do it. I want to get pregnant again as soon as I can, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared, because the possibility of this happening again is always there.

    Before I go get back on my feet, get back into life outside my bed, and start writing about more normal subjects, I just want to thank everyone for being there for me. I can’t count the number of comments, e-mails, texts, and phone calls I’ve received, from family, close friends, acquaintances, and people I’ve never even met. Some just to say I’m sorry and offer whatever words of encouragement they can, and others to share their own stories with me. I want you to know that I treasure every single word, and anytime I hear from someone it lifts my spirits.

    With God’s help and with all of you, I know I can do this. I’ll be okay.