A DEEP DARK PLACE.

From the deepest recesses of my pregnant brain, I have been coming up with all kinds of shit that noone needs. . .

*  Pizza flavored Pretzels - pretzels coated with the pizza flavoring from Pizza Goldfish or Combos.  Rold Gold makes the cheddar sprinkled pretzels.  This is not a stretch.
*  Cooling Gel Gloves - because my hands are miserably hot and I still need to type.  They also double as ergo-gloves for typing.  Yeah. 
*  A halter floaty - which allows head and shoulders to be stabilized while the rest of the preggo body floats in the pool.  This gives pregnant back-sleepers, like me, a chance to enjoy a back-nap.
*  A cooling blanket - just the opposite of an electric blanket.  Do I sense a trend here?

Yeah.  There are more.  Feel free to capitalize on my pain, people.  I would gladly take free merchandise!

SLEEP RUNS WILD.

I just can't catch any.  Sleep, that is.

Meanwhile, my child slept in until 1130am and then after a few calisthenics, went back to sleep for two hours.

Baby hours must be great. . . In my cushy womb.

MILESTONE DAYS.

Until my next BIG ultrasound on July 11, I won't know exactly how far along I am.  Therefore, we will still consider Mondays to be Milestone Days, but I won't get into the exact week.

Today, I celebrate another week of babyness and even more importantly - I celebrate the 12 days it has been since the last catastrophe.  Somehow, both the Hub and I are still waiting for another shoe to fall (I swear, that guy has a whole bag of shoes!)  But, we are resigned to waiting to see what comes.

I feel pretty good.  This is in spite of my lack of REM cycles (You can't have those if you only sleep for 1 1/2 hours at a time at night).  I am getting bigger but not really gaining that much weight.  I would like to stick with the same weight gain plan as last time - and remain in the good graces of the fatty-gods. 

My Progesterone Shots really aren't that bad.  I know what to expect and they take a little while to get.  Today's barely hurt at all.  I feel like that is an accomplishment. . unless, of course, there was no pain because my ass muscle is quickly deteriorating along with my ass nerves.  Ew.  I have received my third shot.  Three weeks down. . .  .and hopefully, many more to come!

In other news, the baby is absolutely active.  I can feel my whole abdomen flip-flopping and wonder when or if I will expand enough to avoid bouncing on my bladder.

This brings me to my next "ew" moment. . . this child likes to bounce off of my bladder so much that sometimes, I pee.  Yeah.  I pee.  Myself.  Seriously.  My only remedy has been to evacuate my pee-bag so often that there isn't ever enough pee to do panty-damage.  Sweet baby Moses, I never thought I would type that particular combination of words.

So yeah. . . everything is going along.  Yay!

AN OPEN LETTER.

Dear Vagina,

It has been a while since we last spoke;  even longer since I saw you face to. . . Hmmm.

I want you to know that I miss seeing you unassisted.  While hindered, I will still keep in touch.  There's no sense in disregarding ingrown hairs just because we aren't as close as we once were.

Sure, you suffered dishonor while I was heavily drugged.  And the audience!  I'm sure it was a day you will never forget.  But, it was for the best.

You will suffer again before the year is gone.  Hopefully it will be as quick and merciful.

Until we meet again, I vow to keep you clean and groomed as always.

Love,
Me

HUMPING OUR WAY THROUGH THE WEEK.

Working and living with your fingers constantly crossed is quite the difficult task.  That being said, nothing catastrophic has occurred since last Thursday and I'm glad for it.  Glad like Pollyanna, bitches.  (Because Bitches be rollin' with Pollyanna and her glad-ass game.)

This child is sitting quite a bit lower than Mira ever did.  In fact, at this point in life, Mira felt like she was swimming through my stomach and up into my chest.  This child, however, is sitting on my enormously engorged bladder.  I'm sure this is why I am up three to four times a night peeing.  (Either that, or I'm just drinking too much at bedtime and every time I pee at night.)

One of the girls at work mentioned that I am carrying lower this time than last.  I wonder if that is because my gut has lost its elasticity on its maiden voyage into pregnancy and now is forced to "hang out" like a droopy sandbag.  Kind of.

So far, I have successfully gone into my office for work two days in a row.  I haven't had this much personal interaction in weeks.  It is lovely.  Even the dirty, eternally sick, social freak who sits in too close proximity.  Kind of.

I have a week and two days until my next appointment.  The Hub and I are still seriously considering buying a doppler - just to get us through the weeks.  After my next appointment, I will have another two weeks to endure.  Then, because of the "scary" times, I'll see the OB once a week for 5 or 6 weeks.  Do I need a doppler for the next three weeks?  Probably not.

Pregnancy Notes:

*  I have not stopped losing hair.  It has definitely slowed and now, in the shower, I lose a hair or two when washing, but it is not completely halted like last time.  It is still quite a bit thicker and I am going through hair-thingies like mad.

*  The acne isn't quite as bad this time.  In fact, I think I might actually have this mythical phenomenon known as "pregnancy glow"  Who knew it could really happen to me?

*  While the acne isn't horrific (yet?!), I am growing thicker body hair.  Know what isn't normal?  Asians growing body hair.  I actually had to shave my legs this week.  This is tantamount seeing that I keep the same razor for 6 months stretches.  I actually brought it up with my OB and he says it will fall out eventually.  While I'm sure my body will never be exactly the same again, I am hopeful that I will lost the Yeti look.  (I think we all know that no matter how pregnant I get, I will never grow as much hair as a normal woman.  It's the Asian thing.)

*  I took a long walk in a woodsy area and the mosquitoes didn't devour me like normal.  In fact, they were all over the Hub, who is usually immune to their advances.  I wonder if this is one of those seldom mentioned, exotic side-effects of being with child.

*  Also.  I have a penis inside me.  (No, not that way, you sicko.)

IT GOES ON AND ON AND ON AND ON. . .

. . . But ain't nobody partying together over here!

It is the start of my 17th or 18th week.  (I will wait until my next ginormous ultrasound to confirm the new due date.)  I am feeling alright but not overly positive. 

Last Thursday, I changed underwear twice before getting worked into hysterics and calling my high-risk nursing line.  I then reported directly to my OBs office for checking.  As it turned out, I have a post-op UTI (which was highly likely considering where they were poking around).  My cervix is still all sewn up like a . . . (insert whatever gets all sewn up here) and I wasn't leaking actual amniotic fluid.  The baby appeared to be pissed as hell that my blood pressure was higher than normal and that we were rushing around trying to make sure everything was copacetic. 

Another round of antibiotics, this time Macrobid, and I am already feeling better.

So. . . a few discoveries and notes for future ponderings:

*  The best sandwich I ever had (and I hate Turkey) was a seeded bun with thick slices of turkey, spicy fruit chutney, cream cheese and crisp bacon slices.  Holy crap.

*  I am SO hot from the inside that I think I'm on fire.  All I want is a stinkin' box fan (one that blows away the competition) but the Hub is still obsessing about finding the best "tower fan"  Right.

*  My shot today went well.  Knowing what to expect was helpful and I didn't have any fear.  I'm expecting to want to pass out in an hour or so.  That seems consistent with any injection.

*  The Hub was a little sad this Father's Day.  As expected, he received his Father's Day card shortly before Father's Day and opened it in private.  I did the best I could to keep him occupied the rest of the weekend.  Sad sucks, people.

. . . in other news, I ate the better part of a watermelon and it was delicious.  I'm talking - want to rub this all over myself delicious.  Yeah.

NEW FRIENDS.

Today marks the first visit from my pre-natal nurse.  More importantly, it is the first Progesterone 17 shot ever administered in my home.  Yeah.

So, the nurse is awesome.  She is around my age and really nice.  She has a few kids of her own and she has been doing this for a long time.  She will come to my home every week and check my vitals and administer the drugs.

Let's talk shots, people.  P17 shots are not the most comfortable.  Though, I will say that they don't feel like Cortisone.  So, that's a win. 

The needle is longer than my finger.  The important one.  Once the site is prepared with alcohol and such, the needle is inserted near my hip and into the muscle of my butt.  Really.  There is muscle in there.  I swear.

Because we are dealing with a mL of fluid, the shot itself takes over a minute to be injected.  Over.  A.  Minute.

I could feel the fluid as it grew in my muscle.  It didn't BURN like Cortisone, but it definitely felt full and sore.  Eventually, I could feel the soreness travel the muscle to the front of my left hip.  But, it was not unbearable.

When it was finished, we talked about my new resources - including a high-risk nursing line that is available to me all of the time.  I will likely use this line over the one offered by my work because it is separate and they are equipped to answer high-risk questions.  My nurse will be with me through 36 weeks, if I go that long.  Somehow, this stranger puts me at ease and I look forward to seeing her every week.

Additionally, once I'm in my 20's, she will listen to the heartbeat every week.  What a relief!

So far, my butt feels fine.  I'm sure I will feel a little stiff this afternoon. . . but I'll deal with it for the sake of the baby.  And all of our sanity.

In other news. . I took a monstrous shit yesterday and no longer feel like my uterus is trying to wedge its way through my vagina.  Surgery and all of the accompanying drugs really clog things up.  But, it's nothing that a burger and fries from Five Guys can't handle.  ;)

AAAANNNNND. . .

The crazy emotional stuff is put to bed. . . now back to your regular pregnancy blog programming.

THE DOWN SIDE.

So. . . while the cerclage surgery seemed to go well, other parts of life seem to be exploding in very ugly bits of light.

I feel like I'm doing all of the work.  Yes.  I know I'm actually doing all of the work growing our child, but I feel like I'm the only one suffering.  Seriously?  Do you know what I just put my body through?  Oh really?  You cleaned the house while I laid in bed having post-surgical contractions and bleeding?  You want kuddos?  Really?  I'll remember to tell our child that.

I have found that there are many women who google "I'm pregnant and I hate my husband"  It is a sign, people.  Pregnant women hate their husbands and even worse. . . high risk pregnant women want to stab their husbands in the face with ice picks.

I'm feeling like this is a phase, but I'm also feeling very sorry for myself and the general state of affairs.  I miss my daughter and I don't feel like the Hub (or his family) understand.  I will likely never forgive any of them for their seeming lack of "give a shit"

. . For now, I will try to get some sleep (as last night, I fumed in bed while the Hub slept peacefully.)

Exhausted.  Hurting.  Hateful.

A CERCLAGE STORY.

Friday morning, my Hub drove me to the hospital.  It was 730am and I hadn't eaten or had water since 1030pm the night before.  I think you can imagine how I was feeling.  Nervous.  Car sick.  STARVING.

We checked into the pre-surgical station and I sat in a vinyl recliner - quietly throwing-up nothing into my mouth.  Eventually, a nurse came to stab me.  Repeatedly.  Actually, she only had to go twice.  Once, in my right forearm. . and then in the third knuckle on the back of my right hand.  Trust me.  It feels awesome.

Around 9am, I was wheeled to the crazy room.  It was here that I met my anesthesiologist for the first time and had a couple of conversations with my OB.  The nurses kept good watch over me and gave me plenty of IV Zofran when I looked green.  They listened to the baby's heart to make sure everything was alright.  It was 70.4 degrees in this holding tank and it was still too hot for me to be comfortable.  Instead, I listened to the nutcases on either side of me talk to their nurses and anesthesiologists.  Nice.

Around 940am, I was taken into the operating room.  This is always a strange place to be completely lucid.  I could see the ventilation system and the lighting.  They turned the air way down low for me - I think 64 degrees.  I got to giggle when the nurses and anesthesiologist were trying to strap me down.  I tried not to freak out when I saw the "stirrups"  But, we'll get to those later. 

My OB was staring intently down at me - now I realize he was trying to gauge my lucidity.  I blurted out, "oh shit, I'm getting dizzy"  The anesthesiologist explained that he had given me a little juice.  Don't be too concerned, people, it was already explained to me that I would not be put "under" due to my "condition" but they would sedate me enough that while I would know what was going on. . . I "wouldn't care"  Yeah. 

So, the stirrups.  Normal OB Office stirrups are little heel rests that help you get yourself into optimal viewing position.  These were more like full leg cuffs which hoisted my junk in the air so that it could be manipulated and stretched and sewn shut.  Yeah.  Sounds like a horrifying BDSM Porno to me!

But. . . I really didn't care.  In fact, I dozed off a couple times in the 15 minutes it took to open, sew and shut me up. 

Eventually, I woke up again and again.  The final time, my Hub was standing over me watching.  Nice.

So. . . . when I was able, I waddled to the bathroom to relieve myself.  Two bags of glucose really run through a girl!  It was tough.  I felt like my uterus was going to fall out of my vagina.  (Who in fuck's name ever thought I would say that?!#)  The hospital dosed me with Percoset and a little bump of Zofran for the road.

I was released and the Hub took me home.  I spent the rest of the day in bed.  I never needed another Percoset.  But, I'm also pretty high pain tolerant. 

There was bleeding - pink.  It didn't concern me.  And, it stopped Saturday afternoon.  While the bleeding didn't get to me, the contractions did.  I had some lovely cramping - like menstrual cramping.  And, I'm pretty sure my belly hardened a few times.  I counted and it wasn't regular.  Eventually, it stopped.  And I slept.

Fast forward a few days. . . . It is Monday.  I am 17 weeks along and I feel like I have been through something crazy.  Round ligament pain seems to be a little more intense.  I feel like my uterus is hanging really low in my body - in the "for realz" world, they actually pulled all that DOWN so that they could get a good stitch in place.  Yeah.  Nice picture! 

Let's now talk about my junk.  I'm not sure that it's going to go back to its original shape and size.  I'm pretty sure the "paddles" used to hold me open while performing the surgery must have been kayak paddles.  I feel . . . swollen and . . . yeah.  Really?  Do you need more adjectives?

I have been a little scared to poop.  So, I have been drinking apple juice and taking Colace.

My follow-up is Thursday.  I am thinking of asking my OB to take a good picture while he's in there looking around.  I am really curious to see how I look from the inside with my new scaffolding.

Yeah.  Celebrate 17 weeks!

WHEN IT RAINS. . .

Late this morning, one of my supremely best friends accompanied me to the OB.
Our mission:  to determine the suitability of my cervix for cerclage surgery.

The Hub met us and we were escorted back to the giant ultrasound room.  I lamented needing to hurry for my aching bladder was reaching extreme proportions.  Luckily, the awesome ultrasound purveyor (she is more than a tech) saucily looked at me and loudly proclaimed, "oh no, honey, go ahead and pee, we're doing this one vaginally."

Yeah.  Relief.

Then, we got down to business.  After a quick vaginal ultrasound to measure the length of my cervix, 4+, she did an external ultrasound to take some basic measurements.

Here is what we found. . .

This Baby is also a spitfire. . . With lots of movement.  Also, a willingness to get fresh with the waves. . . We now know the gender and it certainly stood out!  And, my due date was estimated incorrectly. . . I just gained two weeks.

Of course there is good and bad with all of this. . . I should have already had both the surgery and started the Progesterone shots.  But, we will do them both soon enough.

I hope to post Friday evening or Saturday morning to let you know that the surgery was a success.

Yeah.

MILESTONE DAYS.

I'm 15 weeks along.
I'm also chugging water to make sure that I can keep this pill down.
It ain't looking good, folks.

There are two pills left in my tiny bottle.
After tomorrow morning, I hope to never have to take these bastards again.
They make me want to die.  A lot.
The more you look forward to throwing up for relief, the worse you know the medicine is.

We have an ultrasound scheduled this Wednesday to ensure that everything looks good for the surgery.
I think the hub and I are both looking forward to it since my belly seems to have popped out in an enormous way.  By the time I get back to work, I doubt the people there will recognize me.
Yeah.  I'm now the big fat girl.  BIG.  FAT.  GIRL.

In positive news. . . (***searching***)

. . . I guess I'll force this:

*  Since I haven't been leaving the house, yesterday's laundry was minimal.  I couldn't believe there was only a load and a half of colors and a half a load of whites.  Then I remembered that I'm house-bound.

*  Having thrown up in a public parking lot, the Hub is taking morning sickness a lot more seriously.  When I was dry heaving while sitting on the couch yesterday, he didn't look at me sideways and ask when I would be up again.  (Note:  he is not an insensitive asshole.  He just never gets sick - therefore, he has no experience against which to mount his empathy.  He is a poor nurse.)

. . . That's all I got.  I feel like ass and according to the bitchy mirror in our bathroom, I look the part.  I hope to feel much better tomorrow afternoon - when I'm done with the Doxy and only a day away from the ultrasound.

Ugh.

EPIC.

This morning, I slept in as long as I could due to the fact that I slept like shit last night.  So, when I finally crawled out of bed at 930, I was a little later than usual at taking the Doxycycline.

Knowing I had an hour before I could eat anything (it's in the rules on the two-mile long instruction sheet), the Hub and I headed to IHOP around 10 because I have been craving waffles.

At 1035, we were waiting in the foyer to be called for table and I got really hot.  So, I mumbled something about being "right back" and went quickly outside.

So, then I threw up in the parking lot.  Yeah.  That happened.

So, the Hub and I packed it up quick and went to Denny's.

It was eventful.