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.