KEEP ON MOVING. . . DON'T STOP!

Yesterday, I had a great email conversation wtih the Hub. . .

Me:  Either I just felt a turd move or the baby just kicked.
Hub:  That's exciting - Either way!  ;)
Me:  Yes.  Yes, it is.

I have been able to keep the constipation to a minimum, though at times, I can tell you, it gets tough.  (Ew.)

But, this all leads me to just a few moments ago when I swear upon all things Holy that I just shat something that looked like a piece of coal.

Seriously.  A little more time in there and I would have been a rich woman!
. . . This only leads me to one place:  Is that motherfucker anthracite or bituminous?

BEDTIME SNARK.

While in the shower, I realized that I can no longer look down and see my pubic line.  So, afterwards, I wanted to verify that it still existed (you never know, people!) so I checked myself out in the full length bedroom mirror and LO!  (I've always wanted to say that in real life. . . )  My belly seam has appeared.  

Literally, overnight.

Belly.  Seam.

MORE SHIT.

My pre-surgery tests came back and it ain't good, folks.

I tested positive for Ureaplasma.

A few things to note - as there is plenty of mis-information on the intarwebz:

*  No.  It is not considered an STD.  It is a natural vaginal flora.

*  Yes.  It was also present when I gave birth to Mira.  Some believe that Ureaplasma helps to foster Pre Term Labor.  This has not been proven in any significant or replicable studies.

*  Yes.  I have been prescribed antibiotics to kill it all - despite what some refer to as a benign existence.  Doxycycline and Erythromicin are the only two antibiotics that can surely "cure" Ureaplasma while pregnant.  These two antibiotics function by killing bacteria with viral tendencies - and this works for Ureaplasma because it does not have its own cell walls.  (NOTE:  Doxycycline isn't considered perfect during pregnancy.  In fact, it is considered a risk as it can permeate the placenta and baby.  However, if its benefit outweighs the risk, the doctor will likely prescribe it - as is the case here.

*  No.  I will not be having surgery this week.  We have moved both the pre-surgery ultrasound and the surgery to next week - same days. 

*  Yes.  I am a bit more stressed than I was earlier this morning.  With all of the family shit, this is exactly the type of snafu I didn't need.

I am trying to remain positive - though not in my nature.  I want to say that things will work out this time.  Today, I am not feeling that way.  In fact, I am feeling like this is just another way that mother nature is going to beat down the baby-factory.

Oh.  Where you looking for an up-lifting post?  Sorry.  Check back tomorrow when I have had some time to defrag with a pizza and a pitcher of lemonade.

MILESTONE DAYS.

14 weeks as of yesterday.  And, I'm about to go fucking crazy.

BE WARNED THAT IS IS GOING TO GET RANTY.

In addition to losing my mind over my upcoming surgery, I'm also being driven to murder by some family shit.  I won't go into details here, but to say that I don't have room for everyone else's problems right fucking now.

Sure, I could just tell my family that I am pregnant, but then I would deal with everyone in the world knowing because certain people cannot keep their fucking mouths shut. . .

Case in point. . . After Mira died, I had to tell my mother to stop telling her friends because they were contacting us and it was grossly uncomfortable.  She publicized our very private grief . . . Leaving no hint of anonymity.  It was wrong.  I should never have had to tell her to stop.

So, the Hub and I lumber along with the support of a few. . . Wishing that our families were just *this* side of not-fucked-up so that we could get their support, too.  But, seriously, they aren't good at being supportive - only broken, smothering, and out of line.

RANDOM MUSINGS.

There are some things that I just want to give wings so that they fly away. . . they don't necessitate a full length post.

*  My nipples are bigger this week.  And darker.  I had a friend, many years ago, whose nipples got huge like saucers and turned nearly as black as pavement when she was pregnant.  It was pretty impressive.  Mine are dwarfed in comparison and not nearly as dark.

*  No Linea Negra yet (go look it up, Dummy.)  I had it last time. . . I am still waiting for it to appear.  I called it my belly seam. 

*  My hair growth is outta control.  My usual wisps at my hairline are thick and rabble-rousing.  I'm not sure how else to describe it.  If I had no other hair, I would look like Beaker.  The Muppet.  Right?

*  I drink a Diet Pepsi once or twice a week.  I do it primarily when I need a pick-me-up.  Because building a baby is a lot of damned work, people!

*  I hate sweets, cake and dairy (for what it does to my stomach.)  But, lately, I want frozen Snickers Bars, Funnel Cake and some mother-fucking frozen-assed custard a la Ted Drewes.  Also, meat is a turn-off.  I eat it on occasion because I know I need the protein and iron.  But, it's gross.  And so are you, sicko.

*  I had swollen feet the other day and they made me look like I had penguin feet.  Yeah.  Gross.  They went away with a little relaxation (read:  recliner fully reclined) and copious glasses of chilled water.

*  I am going to the Manchester City v Chelsea soccer match at Busch Stadium tonight.  I'm special.  Well, me and 41,999 other people are special.  Do you include the working staff in the 42k headcount?  No?

*  I am a week and a day away from surgery.  I feel like I am going wackadoodle.  Fear makes a body very energized.  To run.  Quickly away.

*  Sleep is a bastard lately.  I wake up all night long on my back and force myself to one of my sides.  Eventually, I wake up again on my back.  Most times, I then take the opportunity to empty my bladder.  And, get a drink of water.  Then I repeat.  Of course, after the alarm goes off, I can sleep solidly for several hours.  Hateful shit.

*  Supposedly, I should be able to feel my uterus approximately 4 inches under my belly button.  I'm pretty sure that when I feel for it, I actually find my bladder.  Because I usually have to pee immediately after pressing.  There has to be a hashtag for this. . . #EffedUpPhysiology  #ThatIsn'tYourBladderStupid  #WhyDon'tWeJustLayEggs?

*  This past weekend, I purchased a new 357 revolver. . I bought it for my Hub.  But, technically, since I bought it, it is in my name.  See how that works?

Yeah.  I am full of random today.  And baby.  I'm also full of baby.

MILESTONE DAYS.

Today marks the beginning of the 13th week.  In many books, this is the beginning of the second trimester.  Any way that you look at it, it is accomplishment.

Let me be myself for a moment and remind the world that all of this shitty positivity doesn't even out the mixed emotions.  I am now further than half-way through my pregnancy with Mira.  I am scared to death that the next 10 weeks will surge by and leave me without this baby, too.  I try to revel in each day of this pregnancy, but it is getting more and more scary.

It is likely you will never understand.  "Trying to relax" isn't really a thing.  If I murder your entire family in a freak machete accident, it's like asking you to relax the next time someone is swinging one around and threatening your life.  It's not possible.  Trust me.  If you tell me to relax, even in several different word combos, it's not going to happen.  Let it go.  I know it's just your fear, too.  I am, after all, the better person, here.  (insert evil grin here)

But, this is supposed to be celebration. . . so I will change the tune and tempo again and give you some of the game plan:

*  I have another ultrasound on May 29th.  It is to ensure that everyone is happy and healthy and that I am a good candidate for cervical cerclage surgery.  (Say that shit five times fast.)  Really, we just want to make sure that my cervix isn't already funneling (doubtful) and that my bag of water isn't so low that I could risk a puncture.
*  Pending a good ultrasound, I will have the surgery on Friday May 31st.  Because we are trying to keep the pregnancy quiet, we are not telling our parents for another couple months.  Therefore, we are not telling them that I am having surgery.  It is better this way.  My Mum and the Hub's Parents make me crazy in emergent situations.  I want to quietly get through surgery and come home to rest.  Trust me.  It's better this way.  I'll still call and tell my Mum I love her before I march off to battle.  Relax.  Right?  Yeah. . still not a thing.
*  Two weeks after my surgery, if successful, I will start Progesterone (P17) shots.  I hear they suck and have to be administered in the booty (which I have plenty of).  My OB is arranging for a home visit nurse to come once a week and touch my butt.  (Or, inject me with the goods.)  This will give my body further evidence that it shouldn't be going in to labor anytime soon.

This seems like a lot. . . so, this upcoming three-day weekend, I'm going to live it up.  I might even go back to Five Guys Burgers and Fries (my favorite love-hate burger joint) and have another custom baby cheeseburger.  The Gypsy Caravan, which supports the St Louis Symphony, will be happening on Memorial Day.  I'm not sure I'll make it, but I might send my Hub to pick up a Funnel Cake.  (Seriously.  I've been craving one and other than Six Flags and other random carnivals, I can't think of a single place to get one with certainty!)

So, there we have it all.  The current state of affairs and the plan. 

PIT STOP REVIEW!

RESTROOM LOCATION:  Bed Bath & Beyond at Brentwood and Eager
# of VISITS:  1
RESTROOM STYLE:  Several stalls.  Standard partial wall and door.  No frills.
DECOR:  Does it look like there is decor?
REVIEW:  Wow.  Where to begin!  There was a handicapped stall which looked like an after thought.  How, you might wonder, do I conclude that?  Because the middle stall was so skinny that a five year old would feel cramped.  Perhaps a little obvious, I feel like a restroom at a BB&B should smell good and look pretty.  Right? 

In the end, I would revisit. . . if I was going to pee on myself.

JINXING IS MY FAVORITE

Not to set off yet another jinx in my own life. . .

Last night, I only got up once to pee.

Let me repeat that.

LAST NIGHT, I ONLY GOT UP ONCE TO PEE.

Yes.  I know that because I have passed the magical 12 week mark, I will start experiencing the "best" part of pregnancy.  The nausea should wane and peeing like a giant balled Rottweiler on a walk should cease.  But, this is still a huge reason to celebrate.  I should find myself a giant frozen strawberry mock-a-rita.  Yeah!

Tomorrow at my appointment, I'll see that everything is alright and I can relax again.  Neuroses don't look good on me, people!

MILESTONE DAYS.

In just four short days, I will be going back to the OB for another check-in.  I will hear the heartbeat and hopefully see our baby moving around in the gelatinous good that my abdomen has become.  For now, I will simply celebrate the 12 week mark.

Assuming that all goes well during my check-in on Friday, we will celebrate this coming weekend.  Pregnancy has its immediate rewards, you just have to look for them.  In the mid-term, I'm keeping a list. . . a list that I hope to share with our child in the future. 

I call it the "SHIT YOU DID WHILE YOU WERE IN THE WOMB"  I plan to add to it as we go.
1.   Shot trap with friends in March.  It was cold and you were so little that you could have rivaled the size of a BB.
2.   Helped celebrate my 35th birthday at a hoosier bar.  You imbibed plenty of fake drinks and shots through the night.
3.   Hiked the saturated hills of Castlewood Park so that we could survey the swollen Meramec River that surged over its banks and on the lower parking lots and trails.
4.   Gutted and replaced an entire bathroom.  You did none of the work and neither did I - but we endured while the potty was bare bones.
5.   Accompanied your cousin, Rose, on a trip to Chicago to see the sights and over indulge with the shopping on Michigan Avenue.  I was too paranoid about the pregnancy to buy any maternity clothes.  You inhaled everything from Portillo's to Gino's East.  Amazing appetite for someone so tiny.

This list will keep going.  As will this pregnancy.

SLUGBUG! NO SLUGBACKS!

I just wanted you all to know that my fallibility is supreme.

Since I posted my bullshit about morning sickness waning, it has hit me with a bat.  A really big, fucking bat.

I am afraid to swallow because I'm not sure there is enough room in my throat with the volume of vomit I just know is already filling it.

Yay! for Friday!

POWERFUL WORDS.

Since my last post, I want to tell you that my nausea has been cut in half.  I still feel like I'm dying a little bit, but not nearly as often as I was.  I will consider this the miraculous workings of my powerful digital words.

Thank you and you're welcome.

PERPETUAL SPOONS.

I've been reading back to determine just how long this Hell lasted last time.  I have come up with no certain results.  I feel like it lasted longer than the end of my first Trimester.  But, I'm not sure how long.  Believe me.  If I could figure it out, I would.

Despite eating small bites regularly, I am still finding a consistent nausea sending waves of agony from my Tummy and into my throat.  It is bad this time around and I loathe it.  LOATHE IT.

Just sitting here, I have made that distinctive gagging noise twice and there is no sign of letting up.  I feel like there is a large spoon sitting on the back of my tongue and I can't get rid of it.

What's worse?  We are running low of pregnancy-edibles (read:  whatever actually sounds good right this moment) and I need to go the grocery.  Know what sucks about that?  Everything.  Because EVERYTHING stinks.

I'm *this* close to letting my poor husband eat my leftovers for the next several weeks.  I find that when something sounds good, it only sounds good for three-quarters of a serving.  Therefore, yesterday (the night before trash day), we threw out a shitload of containers of primarily eaten food.  Yeah.  Gross.  I know.

Know what is actually really good right now?
*  Capri Suns - frozen and eaten with a spoon
*  Cheesy Pretzels from Rold Gold
*  Giant Soft Pretzels
*  Edy's Frozen Strawberry Bars

A girl really can't survive on those things. . .

MILESTONE DAYS.

I am happy to announce that we are 11 weeks into this pregnancy and from the continued nausea and achey boobies, everything is going well.  Add onto the list my trouble sleeping and an out of control need to pee every hour and a half overnight and we have ourselves a party!

There are just two weeks until my next appointment and I would be a dirty liar if I didn't admit that I feel like these will be the longest two weeks.  Ever.  Not only will I actually be going THREE weeks between visits, but Mother's Day is this next weekend.  I'm already sick of seeing all of the commercials for it.  I'm sure I'll have a whole post about this later in the week. . . and I'm pretty sure it won't be as up-beat as this. 

For now, I want to list some of the things that I have been doing to keep my mind from going to wacka-doodle town. . .

*  The Hub and I (and our pup) went on a long hike at one of our local State Parks.  It rained nearly all weekend, but we managed to find a time that the clouds held their fodder.  Have you ever hiked during the summer when everything was green but dry?  You might have noticed all of the dry river beds criss crossing through the hills and under dry bridges.  Saturday was an amazing day for a hike because ALL of those were running with water!  It was probably my all-time favorite hike!  To me, running water *is* the magic in nature.  Upon retrospect, I should have taken some pictures.  Hmm.

*  The bathroom is nearly completed.  The closet is completely put back together and all of our things (sans that crap that everyone has but needs to throw out) are back in place.  The only missing piece is the medicine cabinet - which should be arriving this week.  Then, it will be finished.

I am still trying to compile a list of "to-dos" for this next two weeks.  Given my lack of good sleep, I suspect a little more napping.  That will definitely cut into my free-time.  ;)

WINNING THE TITLE BOUT

Yesterday was worse.  It was hard to get out of bed.  I dreamed over and over again, in the night, that I woke to have blood in my underwear.  Really red blood.  Each time, I went to the bathroom and checked.  Each and every time.

By the time the alarm went off, I was in no shape to go anywhere.  So, I crept into my home office and plugged into work for the day.

By mid afternoon, I was in tears for one reason or another.  Eventually, when the Hub was finished with his softball game, he called to find out what he should do for dinner.  More tears resulted in a stressed out Hub bringing home an enormous bag of Taco Bell - hoping that SOMETHING would be the right thing.

Somehow, there was magic in those tacos.  Or, in the security of having the Hub home.

Today, I'm exhausted and feeling scabbed over. 

It has been nearly three months since I last took some steps backwards.  I'd say I was due.

GLOBULAR DOMINATION.

I've reached that solemn point.  I stand upon the edge of a vast expanse.  Surpassing the threshold means only one thing:  I WILL NEED TO BUY SOME BIG-ASS MATERNITY BRAS.  AND IMMEDIATELY, PEOPLE.

My cups are full and depending on the day, they might even run over a bit.  You've heard of shoe dough, right?

Even worse, people, is the over-developed look of my baby bottle tops.  Sometimes, given the right environment (read:  freezing office), you can see the topology of my tee pees through my shirt AND bra.  That's not right.  I'm pretty sure that the whole purpose of lightly lined bra cups is to prevent tent poles from erecting.  Right??

I have read that with a second pregnancy, spontaneous milk production has been known to occur.  Being that my two pregnancies are within 6 months of each other, I have a good chance of this happening.  I suspect that my early-budding peonies are particularly full-bloom because of this.

Did I even post about sitting on the throne for a pre-shower pee and looking down to find that I was milking all over myself?  This happened about two weeks after our daughter died and all I could do was laugh.  Really, the only thing funnier would be me puking in my own lap while crapping my brains out with food poisoning.  Did I mention that has happened in my lifetime?  Yeah.  I'm a fucking winner.

To recap:  Boobs are exploding like KA-BOOB!  Nerps are more demonstrative than that rubber tip at the end of a teacher's pointer thingy.  I'm waiting for the let down!