I haven't left the house in days. This weekend we managed to go out for dinner with some friends, and that, my friends, was my only outing. Prior to that, last week I went to the doctor and the grocery store and Target and Taco Bell. That's right...I went to 5 places in a week, 6 if you count stopping for gas. But it was raining all weekend for God's sake!!! What do I want from me, anyway?
What's my deal? I have no idea. I'm tired most of the time, and the idea of driving somewhere isn't nearly as daunting as getting wherever "there" is and having to accomplish the task that I set out to do, and then driving back home while awake. This morning was a perfect example. Last week I had told a friend I'd come by this morning to see her....we haven't got together since I found out I'm pregnant. I was thinking I'd go over around 10....only at 9:15 I was still in my pajamas....with no desire to do anything. I wasn't sicker than normal, I wasn't too tired, I just wasn't motivated to make the whole thing happen....you know, the whole thing being taking a shower, drying my hair, putting on an acceptable amount of makeup to cover up the bad skin that comes with the raging hormones of early pregnancy. Not only that, I'd have to find clothes that aren't too little. Okay, reading that, if I were anyone else, I'd be like, okay Slacker, get off your lazy butt and go!!! But me being the one living in this lethargic body, I can't even fathom making it happen, even with my own self-tough-love.
Am I depressed? Nope. Am I afraid that if I leave, something will happen to the babies? Nope. Am I anything? Nope. Just unmotivated and lethargic. But according to all the books that I've managed to skim through before falling asleep, this is normal.
Showing posts with label After IVF and early pregnancy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label After IVF and early pregnancy. Show all posts
Monday, January 7, 2008
11 weeks--nearing the end of first trimester
Today marks day one of week 11. I can't believe how quickly the time has gone by since IVF, and it's also hard to believe just how quickly everything changes. Almost through the first trimester and almost able to exhale!
I'm still spending my days taking it really easy. I feel really fortunate to have our construction project wrapped up right in time...no more banging and hammering and dust---our house finally feels complete. I'm still having morning sickness every morning and headaches every night, but this being my first and presumably only pregnancy, the physical issues haven't really got me down---my excitement to be pregnant and all that it implies hugely outweigh the barfing, sleeping, and tightness of all things clothes-related. I have known several women who complain all the way through pregnancy and it's a really unattractive characteristic...especially to me, having waited so long and worked so hard to get pregnant.
Last week I managed to do a little grocery shopping (which can be challenging since my new sense of smell threatens to activate my new sense of...well, barfing)...I ran to the local market and meant to grab some fresh produce, and maybe a few other things. But again, something overtook me while shopping...I bought sugary cereal, frozen fish sticks (ewww!), not to mention the cliche of all cliches...single serving size cartons of Hagen Daz ice cream (and I'm not an ice cream person....I'm a cake and cookie person). If that doesn't complete the image, imagine my surprise at checkout when I realized right next to the ice cream on the conveyor belt were two huge jars of pickles. I couldn't believe my eyes.
I'm still spending my days taking it really easy. I feel really fortunate to have our construction project wrapped up right in time...no more banging and hammering and dust---our house finally feels complete. I'm still having morning sickness every morning and headaches every night, but this being my first and presumably only pregnancy, the physical issues haven't really got me down---my excitement to be pregnant and all that it implies hugely outweigh the barfing, sleeping, and tightness of all things clothes-related. I have known several women who complain all the way through pregnancy and it's a really unattractive characteristic...especially to me, having waited so long and worked so hard to get pregnant.
Last week I managed to do a little grocery shopping (which can be challenging since my new sense of smell threatens to activate my new sense of...well, barfing)...I ran to the local market and meant to grab some fresh produce, and maybe a few other things. But again, something overtook me while shopping...I bought sugary cereal, frozen fish sticks (ewww!), not to mention the cliche of all cliches...single serving size cartons of Hagen Daz ice cream (and I'm not an ice cream person....I'm a cake and cookie person). If that doesn't complete the image, imagine my surprise at checkout when I realized right next to the ice cream on the conveyor belt were two huge jars of pickles. I couldn't believe my eyes.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Getting bigger....
My sister-in-law, who is 22 weeks pregnant with her second baby right now told me that during her first pregnancy, she kept a diary of her belly circumference measurements, as well as what she liked to eat at certain times, and what she weighed from week to week. Now she is having fun writing down the same info about this pregnancy and comparing it to the last. Great idea.
Only, I consider this blog that many people read to be my diary of sorts, and I'm frankly horrified to put my weight out there in black and white for the world to see. Okay, I realize that I have, like, 6 readers, but still....don't make me get on a scale. And here's the thing...I'm not a girl who has ever been over weight...I've had skinnier times and fatter times like everybody else (except my darling petite sister, but she doesn't count because while she is adorable, her lack of gaining a single ounce since high school is a little freakish...no, really I mean admirable, but I'm a jealous chubby girl right now and sometimes things don't come out the right way!). Anyway, I tend to get really in shape, and then burn out on exercise, and then jump back into it and get back in shape, and then slack off. So while my weight is usually around the same, my body shape tightens and loosens depending on where I'm at.
Until fertility drugs...that is. During my pre-in-vitro drugs, I gained at least 10 to 15 pounds from the combination of Follistim, Lupron, Repronex, steroids, and the stuff to slow down my thyroid. I felt like a butterball by the time I weighed in before my egg harvesting surgery...and the scale didn't lie...I was a butterball! But the good news was is now that I'm off the drugs, a lot of that bloated, gassy feeling has gone away and I did drop nearly all of the "drug weight".
This morning, however, I woke up feeling like my belly actually grew over night. I thought it might be time to join my sister-in-law in belly measuring. Before the pregnancy, my waist was 28 or 29 inches. Today, to my complete shock.....34.5 inches. Holy baby Jesus! When did that happen?
Well, considering the babies are now little raspberries, and the ultrasound this week showed that my ovaries are still the size of baseballs, and considering my new and improved boobs are the size of, well, let's see here...a cantaloupe?...I guess everything is changing pretty rapidly. But if I'm already almost 6 inches bigger around the middle and only 8 weeks prego, I dare ask, what will I measure in June? July? My goodness...this is frightening....how will they fit in there...will I be able to breath? Will I just need to hook up a catheter because my bladder will be constantly compressed?
Why did I measure it? Why???? What I thought would be a fun little thing to do has freaked me out. If the babies weigh an ounce now, what about when they weigh 6 pounds each? Okay just to be clear to the universe, I'm not not NOT complaining. If I have to be as big as a house and on total life support in my final month of pregnancy to keep my lungs and heart and everything else functional, that's totally fine. I was just thinking it through...that's all...no complaining! Happy!!!!
Breeeeeathe......inhale...............exhale.........inhale........exhale......
Only, I consider this blog that many people read to be my diary of sorts, and I'm frankly horrified to put my weight out there in black and white for the world to see. Okay, I realize that I have, like, 6 readers, but still....don't make me get on a scale. And here's the thing...I'm not a girl who has ever been over weight...I've had skinnier times and fatter times like everybody else (except my darling petite sister, but she doesn't count because while she is adorable, her lack of gaining a single ounce since high school is a little freakish...no, really I mean admirable, but I'm a jealous chubby girl right now and sometimes things don't come out the right way!). Anyway, I tend to get really in shape, and then burn out on exercise, and then jump back into it and get back in shape, and then slack off. So while my weight is usually around the same, my body shape tightens and loosens depending on where I'm at.
Until fertility drugs...that is. During my pre-in-vitro drugs, I gained at least 10 to 15 pounds from the combination of Follistim, Lupron, Repronex, steroids, and the stuff to slow down my thyroid. I felt like a butterball by the time I weighed in before my egg harvesting surgery...and the scale didn't lie...I was a butterball! But the good news was is now that I'm off the drugs, a lot of that bloated, gassy feeling has gone away and I did drop nearly all of the "drug weight".
This morning, however, I woke up feeling like my belly actually grew over night. I thought it might be time to join my sister-in-law in belly measuring. Before the pregnancy, my waist was 28 or 29 inches. Today, to my complete shock.....34.5 inches. Holy baby Jesus! When did that happen?
Well, considering the babies are now little raspberries, and the ultrasound this week showed that my ovaries are still the size of baseballs, and considering my new and improved boobs are the size of, well, let's see here...a cantaloupe?...I guess everything is changing pretty rapidly. But if I'm already almost 6 inches bigger around the middle and only 8 weeks prego, I dare ask, what will I measure in June? July? My goodness...this is frightening....how will they fit in there...will I be able to breath? Will I just need to hook up a catheter because my bladder will be constantly compressed?
Why did I measure it? Why???? What I thought would be a fun little thing to do has freaked me out. If the babies weigh an ounce now, what about when they weigh 6 pounds each? Okay just to be clear to the universe, I'm not not NOT complaining. If I have to be as big as a house and on total life support in my final month of pregnancy to keep my lungs and heart and everything else functional, that's totally fine. I was just thinking it through...that's all...no complaining! Happy!!!!
Breeeeeathe......inhale...............exhale.........inhale........exhale......
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
8 week developmental progress
Here's some info I got from Babycenter.com....
The babies are now 5/8 of an inch long, about the size of a kidney bean.
New this week: Webbed fingers and toes are poking out from the baby's hands and feet, their eyelids practically cover their eyes, breathing tubes extend from their throat to the branches of their developing lungs, and their "tail" is just about gone.
Their arms have lengthened, too, and their hands are now flexed at the wrist and meet over their heart. Their knee joints have formed, and their feet may be long enough to meet in front of their body. In his brain, nerve cells are branching out to connect with one another, forming primitive neural pathways.
The babies are now 5/8 of an inch long, about the size of a kidney bean.
New this week: Webbed fingers and toes are poking out from the baby's hands and feet, their eyelids practically cover their eyes, breathing tubes extend from their throat to the branches of their developing lungs, and their "tail" is just about gone.
Their arms have lengthened, too, and their hands are now flexed at the wrist and meet over their heart. Their knee joints have formed, and their feet may be long enough to meet in front of their body. In his brain, nerve cells are branching out to connect with one another, forming primitive neural pathways.
A houseful of barfed-in sinks
This morning morning started with a good barf in the toilet. I'm used to it happening in the sink while brushing my teeth. I've come to know that brushing my teeth the moment I get up is a big no-no. So today I headed for my computer to check email, and I felt that nagging feeling...What's going on? I just felt so mediocre a minute ago and now..run run run....blaaaaah.
From the bathroom sink, I went to the kitchen to take my new anti-nausea prescription, which I reserve for days that begin like this. I don't take them for heartburn, I don't take them for general nausea which could be all day every day. I only take them if barf happens. So, once in the kitchen, I opened the cupboard, reached for a glass, and oops!!! run run run......blaaaah, right in my freshly cleaned kitchen sink.
I finally get the pill down, and feel relatively sure that it'll work it's magic, but am on constant guard that IT might happen again.
At the end of 6 weeks, the morning sickness came like clockwork...just like all the early pregnancy articles I've read said. It seems like no one can agree on singular reason for morning sickness, why it effects some and not others, and why different things trigger it. Is it elevated hormones? Is it that your abdominal contents are being shifted around to make room for your new huge uterus and all the other stuff doesn't like getting shoved out of the way? Or is it the baby Jesus's way of telling new Moms that from this point forward, it's not about you anymore. (Don't feel good? Too bad, get up. Feel like throwing up? Too bad, go feed the baby. All you need is a little more sleep? Maybe in the next lifetime). It's all out of your control from this point on.
And just in case I'm right, and this morning sickness is trying to teach me that I'm not going to be in control for the rest of my life, please hear me, whoever you are, that I get it. I don't need any more barfing to understand...the babies have taken over.
From the bathroom sink, I went to the kitchen to take my new anti-nausea prescription, which I reserve for days that begin like this. I don't take them for heartburn, I don't take them for general nausea which could be all day every day. I only take them if barf happens. So, once in the kitchen, I opened the cupboard, reached for a glass, and oops!!! run run run......blaaaah, right in my freshly cleaned kitchen sink.
I finally get the pill down, and feel relatively sure that it'll work it's magic, but am on constant guard that IT might happen again.
At the end of 6 weeks, the morning sickness came like clockwork...just like all the early pregnancy articles I've read said. It seems like no one can agree on singular reason for morning sickness, why it effects some and not others, and why different things trigger it. Is it elevated hormones? Is it that your abdominal contents are being shifted around to make room for your new huge uterus and all the other stuff doesn't like getting shoved out of the way? Or is it the baby Jesus's way of telling new Moms that from this point forward, it's not about you anymore. (Don't feel good? Too bad, get up. Feel like throwing up? Too bad, go feed the baby. All you need is a little more sleep? Maybe in the next lifetime). It's all out of your control from this point on.
And just in case I'm right, and this morning sickness is trying to teach me that I'm not going to be in control for the rest of my life, please hear me, whoever you are, that I get it. I don't need any more barfing to understand...the babies have taken over.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
My new big pants
On Sunday, Ajay and I braved South Coast Plaza in search of pants that are not painful, and yet are not made of sweatpants. It seems I've outgrown all of mine.
So we headed off to Gap Maternity. Let's just say that I've never before known how a stretchy waistband on the top part of jeans could be beneficial. I've seen the demi-panel pants before, but I guess I never really got it. Here is a picture of what I'm talking about....
Now I'm the proud owner of two pairs of stretchy-topped demi panel jeans, and I love them. I love them I love them I love them. They don't make me feel like a big fatty...they feel just right. Where my old pants judged and offered constant painful reminders of my bigger self, my new stretchy topped jeans do no such thing. They are forgiving in the way a good friend forgives. They anticipate my needs and provide adequate stretchiness. They are kind in their roominess. Thank you, Gap Maternity, for truly understanding me.
So we headed off to Gap Maternity. Let's just say that I've never before known how a stretchy waistband on the top part of jeans could be beneficial. I've seen the demi-panel pants before, but I guess I never really got it. Here is a picture of what I'm talking about....
Now I'm the proud owner of two pairs of stretchy-topped demi panel jeans, and I love them. I love them I love them I love them. They don't make me feel like a big fatty...they feel just right. Where my old pants judged and offered constant painful reminders of my bigger self, my new stretchy topped jeans do no such thing. They are forgiving in the way a good friend forgives. They anticipate my needs and provide adequate stretchiness. They are kind in their roominess. Thank you, Gap Maternity, for truly understanding me.
Shhhh, I'm sleeping
I realize I've been really lax on writing over the past week or so...my stories and perceptions about things related to pregnancy have become lack luster or non existent. There is a reason why.
I've been sleeping. All the time. This past weekend, I had to take a 3 hour nap during the daytime to be able to join friends Friday night for dinner at 7 p.m. Because dinner at 7 means that I'd probably have to stay awake and participate in conversation until at least 9:30...maybe even 10!!!!
On Saturday, Ajay wanted to go to a wine tasting---it was the "big one" of the year...they would be opening some great and pricey stuff. Ajay deserves to spend his very few days off in ways that he enjoys, and I wanted him to be able to go. However, knowing that I can no longer tolerate the smell of red wine (I know...it's insane...I'm the biggest wine-o I know when I'm not pregnant, and now this????), and knowing that Ajay would enjoy the tasting much more with a friend, I offered to drop him and a friend off at the tasting and would then run some errands. That would also assure that they could have a very good time and not worry about driving home. So we decided that the plan was excellent, and on Saturday, I dropped them off at the tasting.
With the car to myself and at least a few hours to accomplish my errands, I headed off to Home Depot to pick up a carpet rake for my new shag rug...it's shedding so much that it's too much work for our vacuum. Home Depot should have been about 5-10 minutes from the tasting...but I forgot...it's the holiday season and everyone on the road is on a mission to run each other down in search of the perfect present to celebrate the birth of the baby Jesus.
So I arrived at in Home Depot about 25 minutes later. Up and down the aisles I went, only to find that they did not have the shag carpet rake. I asked one useless person after another, all who said, Oh, I just saw them over there!....only to not be able to show me where that was. Finally a guy told me, yeah, ummmm, we don't, ummm, like, ummm, have those no more. Great.
So I left Home Depot. I had to pee for the 40th time that day. I drove without purpose and finally decided to stop at Wendy's to use the bathroom, and maybe grab a snack. After using their bathroom, I realized nothing would ever sound good from Wendy's, so I left. I got back in the car, headed back to the wine tasting, called Ajay and asked him how it was going. He said they were half way through, and they were having a nice time. Excellent. I pulled into the parking lot, reclined my seat, and fell asleep until he called again an hour later.
I swing the car around and pick them up. What did you do while we were there, he asked. Oh, not much...you know...slept in the car, went pee...the usual.
I've been sleeping. All the time. This past weekend, I had to take a 3 hour nap during the daytime to be able to join friends Friday night for dinner at 7 p.m. Because dinner at 7 means that I'd probably have to stay awake and participate in conversation until at least 9:30...maybe even 10!!!!
On Saturday, Ajay wanted to go to a wine tasting---it was the "big one" of the year...they would be opening some great and pricey stuff. Ajay deserves to spend his very few days off in ways that he enjoys, and I wanted him to be able to go. However, knowing that I can no longer tolerate the smell of red wine (I know...it's insane...I'm the biggest wine-o I know when I'm not pregnant, and now this????), and knowing that Ajay would enjoy the tasting much more with a friend, I offered to drop him and a friend off at the tasting and would then run some errands. That would also assure that they could have a very good time and not worry about driving home. So we decided that the plan was excellent, and on Saturday, I dropped them off at the tasting.
With the car to myself and at least a few hours to accomplish my errands, I headed off to Home Depot to pick up a carpet rake for my new shag rug...it's shedding so much that it's too much work for our vacuum. Home Depot should have been about 5-10 minutes from the tasting...but I forgot...it's the holiday season and everyone on the road is on a mission to run each other down in search of the perfect present to celebrate the birth of the baby Jesus.
So I arrived at in Home Depot about 25 minutes later. Up and down the aisles I went, only to find that they did not have the shag carpet rake. I asked one useless person after another, all who said, Oh, I just saw them over there!....only to not be able to show me where that was. Finally a guy told me, yeah, ummmm, we don't, ummm, like, ummm, have those no more. Great.
So I left Home Depot. I had to pee for the 40th time that day. I drove without purpose and finally decided to stop at Wendy's to use the bathroom, and maybe grab a snack. After using their bathroom, I realized nothing would ever sound good from Wendy's, so I left. I got back in the car, headed back to the wine tasting, called Ajay and asked him how it was going. He said they were half way through, and they were having a nice time. Excellent. I pulled into the parking lot, reclined my seat, and fell asleep until he called again an hour later.
I swing the car around and pick them up. What did you do while we were there, he asked. Oh, not much...you know...slept in the car, went pee...the usual.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Friday night date night
Today is Friday. I woke up this morning after Ajay left for work. Before the babies, I woke up with him every day, made him coffee, breakfast, packed his lunch, made sure he took his vitamins....I was a pretty good wife.
This week things have changed....I am finding that 10 hours of sleep per night is what my body needs right now. So we still go to bed at the same time, but I sleep like, 2 or 3 hours later than Ajay. It's totally freaky how much I can sleep. My little Blueberries take a lot of energy. (The babies were referred to as the size of blueberries in an article about being 7 weeks pregnant, thus the name).
Tonight we have dinner plans with some friends. I've been looking forward to this meal all week...we're heading to a great Cuban restaurant, and I've already been going back and forth on what to have for dinner, as well as what to have for dessert. Since I am now the Designated Driver, I feel that I should be able to indulge all the more in what I eat rather than the mojitos to start and the wine with dinner.
Last Friday, the little Blueberries asked to be taken to our favorite Soul Food restaurant. Although I've never ordered their Buttermilk Fried Chicken, I've heard it's fantastic, and that was what captivated my taste buds all week...I knew what I would order by Tuesday. To clarify...I've been a very healthy eater for the last decade...I read labels, I eat whole grains, I consider how fatty things are, I choose healthy fats. But now I choose buttermilk fried chicken because that's what the Blueberries asked for.
The problem is what the Blueberries want versus what my stomach has been trained to handle are two very different things. About 3 bites into my fried chicken, my stomach wanted to explode. I couldn't finish 1/4 of my meal. I was a mess. Driving home, I experienced some of the worst pain I've ever experienced from eating...I thought I might die. I must've eaten 8 antacids, and still no relief.
So tonight I have another chance to redeem myself as worthy of eating out at a nice restaurant. My hope is that the little Blueberries want something that this body can handle and digest without pain and suffering. I hope to avoid agony and embarrassment.
This week things have changed....I am finding that 10 hours of sleep per night is what my body needs right now. So we still go to bed at the same time, but I sleep like, 2 or 3 hours later than Ajay. It's totally freaky how much I can sleep. My little Blueberries take a lot of energy. (The babies were referred to as the size of blueberries in an article about being 7 weeks pregnant, thus the name).
Tonight we have dinner plans with some friends. I've been looking forward to this meal all week...we're heading to a great Cuban restaurant, and I've already been going back and forth on what to have for dinner, as well as what to have for dessert. Since I am now the Designated Driver, I feel that I should be able to indulge all the more in what I eat rather than the mojitos to start and the wine with dinner.
Last Friday, the little Blueberries asked to be taken to our favorite Soul Food restaurant. Although I've never ordered their Buttermilk Fried Chicken, I've heard it's fantastic, and that was what captivated my taste buds all week...I knew what I would order by Tuesday. To clarify...I've been a very healthy eater for the last decade...I read labels, I eat whole grains, I consider how fatty things are, I choose healthy fats. But now I choose buttermilk fried chicken because that's what the Blueberries asked for.
The problem is what the Blueberries want versus what my stomach has been trained to handle are two very different things. About 3 bites into my fried chicken, my stomach wanted to explode. I couldn't finish 1/4 of my meal. I was a mess. Driving home, I experienced some of the worst pain I've ever experienced from eating...I thought I might die. I must've eaten 8 antacids, and still no relief.
So tonight I have another chance to redeem myself as worthy of eating out at a nice restaurant. My hope is that the little Blueberries want something that this body can handle and digest without pain and suffering. I hope to avoid agony and embarrassment.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
A good day
Today I woke up after a nice 10 hours of sleep....because any less just wouldn't get me through until my daily 1:00 p.m. nap.
I had a long list of things to get done because I've felt really crappy this week. Between the extreme exhaustion and the nausea, it's really hard to even consider taking on a task---forget about actually doing it!
Last night I was in bad shape...nothing sounded good because I was so nauseated. I had to pass on a friend's birthday party that I had really wanted to make it to. Instead, Ajay picked up some dinner and brought it home.
After I ate, I felt almost immediately better. I couldn't believe it...it was a miracle. Then I realized that I hadn't had much to eat at all throughout the day...some yogurt, an apple, some cereal...that was it.
So this morning I felt armed with new information. Even though I woke up feeling sick, I forced some real food down...and egg and a piece of toast. Before I knew it, I was feeling so much better, and was off to the doctor for some blood work. I had a list a mile long and systematically crossed off each errand with pride...
I got my replacement cell phone, then exchanged a gift at Macy's, then picked up make up that I'm out of. From there I picked up my sister's Christmas present, and even shopped for pants that fit (but had no luck). From there I bought groceries (so Ajay doesn't have to eat stale cheerios) and even picked up medication from pharmacy.
I had a long list of things to get done because I've felt really crappy this week. Between the extreme exhaustion and the nausea, it's really hard to even consider taking on a task---forget about actually doing it!
Last night I was in bad shape...nothing sounded good because I was so nauseated. I had to pass on a friend's birthday party that I had really wanted to make it to. Instead, Ajay picked up some dinner and brought it home.
After I ate, I felt almost immediately better. I couldn't believe it...it was a miracle. Then I realized that I hadn't had much to eat at all throughout the day...some yogurt, an apple, some cereal...that was it.
So this morning I felt armed with new information. Even though I woke up feeling sick, I forced some real food down...and egg and a piece of toast. Before I knew it, I was feeling so much better, and was off to the doctor for some blood work. I had a list a mile long and systematically crossed off each errand with pride...
I got my replacement cell phone, then exchanged a gift at Macy's, then picked up make up that I'm out of. From there I picked up my sister's Christmas present, and even shopped for pants that fit (but had no luck). From there I bought groceries (so Ajay doesn't have to eat stale cheerios) and even picked up medication from pharmacy.
And I made it home in time to beat the lunchtime nausea! So I was able to enjoy my new favorite lunch.....
Don't worry, Maya....these are vegetarian corn dogs...
And the final good word of the day...Dr. H called and said my hormones look great based on today's blood work so I don't have to take any more shots!!!!!!!!!!!! Wooooopeeee!
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Andrea's day of bad food...I'm so disgusted with myself....Part 2
As the title indicates, this is the second part of a two-part entry. Please go to Part 1. If you choose not to go to Part 1, I can't help you.
After running errands, I came back home and peeled off the last pair of jeans that "fits" and traded them for pants with spandex. I got very comfortable under my comforter and began a new book. I read one-third of the page and died. Well, maybe I didn't die, but how else do you explain not hearing the 4 phone calls that came in (with a phone right next to my head) while I was beneath the covers?
I came back to life about 2 or 3 hours later. I was hungry again and ate the leftovers from Ajay's lunch.
Ajay got home and went for a walk...I joined him around the block but didn't go the rest of the way....we used to do a nice 2 mile hill walk as many days as possible but I honestly don't have the energy for our huge Mt. Everest of a hill these days.
Ajay makes it back with a cold nose feeling nicely rejuvenated from his trek into the tundra. I ask if he's hungry. A little bit, he says. Maybe we could go to Taco Bell, I suggest. He looks at me with eyes that have met a person before, but can't really place where. You want Taco Bell, he asks? Yes please, I reply.
So we hop in the car and he asks if I know what I'm ordering. Of course I do...all I think about is food these days.
We get to the counter, where I realize that I have not had Taco Bell since my girlfriends and I used to go out drinking and would hit the drive through on the way home. The menu is still the same, except for the new thing that is a Taco wrapped in something else with a bunch of yellow cheese product dripping out the bottom of it....strangely this new food product doesn't appeal to the babies. The babies want a Mexican Pizza and two Taco Supremes, with sour cream, please.
On the way home I am happy. I have a monster size of Sierra Mist. From time to time little chirps of excitement slip out...Ajay has never seen me so happy to see fast food...in fact, now that I think about it, I don't think Ajay and I have ever had fast food together.
He tells me he's surprised I didn't order the new promotional drippy thing. I ask if he wanted to try it. He replies, "No.....you know, I have been concerned about the fact that husbands gain sympathy weight when their wives are pregnant. At this rate, I'm thinking I'll be okay...everything you crave is disgusting."
I mumble back "yeah, maybe to you but to the babies, it's delicious."
After running errands, I came back home and peeled off the last pair of jeans that "fits" and traded them for pants with spandex. I got very comfortable under my comforter and began a new book. I read one-third of the page and died. Well, maybe I didn't die, but how else do you explain not hearing the 4 phone calls that came in (with a phone right next to my head) while I was beneath the covers?
I came back to life about 2 or 3 hours later. I was hungry again and ate the leftovers from Ajay's lunch.
Ajay got home and went for a walk...I joined him around the block but didn't go the rest of the way....we used to do a nice 2 mile hill walk as many days as possible but I honestly don't have the energy for our huge Mt. Everest of a hill these days.
Ajay makes it back with a cold nose feeling nicely rejuvenated from his trek into the tundra. I ask if he's hungry. A little bit, he says. Maybe we could go to Taco Bell, I suggest. He looks at me with eyes that have met a person before, but can't really place where. You want Taco Bell, he asks? Yes please, I reply.
So we hop in the car and he asks if I know what I'm ordering. Of course I do...all I think about is food these days.
We get to the counter, where I realize that I have not had Taco Bell since my girlfriends and I used to go out drinking and would hit the drive through on the way home. The menu is still the same, except for the new thing that is a Taco wrapped in something else with a bunch of yellow cheese product dripping out the bottom of it....strangely this new food product doesn't appeal to the babies. The babies want a Mexican Pizza and two Taco Supremes, with sour cream, please.
On the way home I am happy. I have a monster size of Sierra Mist. From time to time little chirps of excitement slip out...Ajay has never seen me so happy to see fast food...in fact, now that I think about it, I don't think Ajay and I have ever had fast food together.
He tells me he's surprised I didn't order the new promotional drippy thing. I ask if he wanted to try it. He replies, "No.....you know, I have been concerned about the fact that husbands gain sympathy weight when their wives are pregnant. At this rate, I'm thinking I'll be okay...everything you crave is disgusting."
I mumble back "yeah, maybe to you but to the babies, it's delicious."
Andrea's day of bad food...I'm so disgusted with myself....Part 1
Yesterday, after my ultrasound appointment in the morning, Ajay and I had lunch together and he headed back to work, while I ran errands.
Okay, I skipped over a very important detail there....the important bit of information is not that we had lunch together, although that was a real treat for a Monday. The important bit of information is what the babies made me eat for lunch.
We went to Santa Monica Seafood. Even if you tried, I don't think you could find a healthier place for lunch....they have fresh, never frozen, no hormones added, wild caught fish in many varieties. Mainly, they sell fish for you to take home and cook yourself, but they also have a small lunch counter. Ajay orders grilled shrimp tacos. I didn't order that.
I asked what the fisherman's platter had on it...she told me fried fish, fried shrimp, and french fries. I asked if I could substitute the fried clams for the fried fish. She said no. So I ordered the fried shrimp basket with fries and coleslaw, and then another order of fried clams. and a Sprite in case my stomach decided to act up. Yes, I see the irony there. In case my stomach decided to misbehave after what I was about to do to it...
That's not the worst part...the food comes, and Ajay puts his respectable small plate of grilled tacos at his seat, and then puts a very large plate of shrimp in front of me....and since we're at a very small bistro table, we have to do a little re-arranging to fit in my extra order of clams. Everything on my side of the table is a nice golden brown color. It even smells deep fried. As Ajay is returning the tray that the food came on, we notice one of Ajay's partners at the counter placing a lunch order (fish soup....he doesn't know what's good). We say hi to Al, and as he turns to talk to us, he looks at our table and focuses on my side of it. He looks at all the fried food in front of me, and then at me, and then back to the food, and then back to me. He's got a kind of smile on his face. He sees my dirty secret. Finally he leaves.
Upon finishing every last bite, Ajay asks me to take one of his tacos home. He couldn't even finish his one little lunch order.
Okay, I skipped over a very important detail there....the important bit of information is not that we had lunch together, although that was a real treat for a Monday. The important bit of information is what the babies made me eat for lunch.
We went to Santa Monica Seafood. Even if you tried, I don't think you could find a healthier place for lunch....they have fresh, never frozen, no hormones added, wild caught fish in many varieties. Mainly, they sell fish for you to take home and cook yourself, but they also have a small lunch counter. Ajay orders grilled shrimp tacos. I didn't order that.
I asked what the fisherman's platter had on it...she told me fried fish, fried shrimp, and french fries. I asked if I could substitute the fried clams for the fried fish. She said no. So I ordered the fried shrimp basket with fries and coleslaw, and then another order of fried clams. and a Sprite in case my stomach decided to act up. Yes, I see the irony there. In case my stomach decided to misbehave after what I was about to do to it...
That's not the worst part...the food comes, and Ajay puts his respectable small plate of grilled tacos at his seat, and then puts a very large plate of shrimp in front of me....and since we're at a very small bistro table, we have to do a little re-arranging to fit in my extra order of clams. Everything on my side of the table is a nice golden brown color. It even smells deep fried. As Ajay is returning the tray that the food came on, we notice one of Ajay's partners at the counter placing a lunch order (fish soup....he doesn't know what's good). We say hi to Al, and as he turns to talk to us, he looks at our table and focuses on my side of it. He looks at all the fried food in front of me, and then at me, and then back to the food, and then back to me. He's got a kind of smile on his face. He sees my dirty secret. Finally he leaves.
Upon finishing every last bite, Ajay asks me to take one of his tacos home. He couldn't even finish his one little lunch order.
Friday, December 7, 2007
As if I hadn't learned my lesson....
....after last night's dramatic near-death-by-gas incident (see previous entry), I realized I was hungry. I had already made the tabbouleh to go with the kofta kabob I was planning to make. I asked Ajay if that sounded good...he said "you know, I'm kind of over meat these days....".
No problem, I really didn't feel like cooking anyway.
"How about a mushroom pizza from Gina's", I suggest.
"That sounds good", he replies.
"and maybe a salad?" I ask.
"Sure", he replies.
I dial, and a nice boy from Gina's asks what he can do for me.
"I'd like to place an order for delivery...one medium mushroom pizza, and a small Caesar salad"
The nice young man on the other end asks, "will that be all?"
"ummm.....and a meatball sandwich", I say under my breath.
"excuse me?" he asks.
"A MEATBALL SANDWICH, PLEASE."
I can't believe he made me say it out loud. Again.
I ponder...who are these babies, and why are they so fixated on forcing me to eat meat?????
The order is delivered. Normally I use real plates, real forks, our nice napkins with pizza. Not this time. I go straight for the meatball sandwich and have begun eating before Ajay finishes paying the guy. At least I'm sitting at the kitchen table like a normal person trained in today's etiquette...
I eat half of the enormous sandwich by the time Ajay has, in a very civilized fashion, plated his dinner...a piece of pizza and a plate filled with salad. By the time he's sitting down, I'm done with half the sandwich and am reaching for a piece of pizza. By the time he takes his first bite, I'm half way though my first slice and reaching for another one. And I skip the salad altogether. And I am a lover of all things related to salad.
Again. Why are these babies so hungry, and how can I possibly go on eating a meatball sandwich, two pieces of pizza and 8 mini powdered donuts in one day?
No problem, I really didn't feel like cooking anyway.
"How about a mushroom pizza from Gina's", I suggest.
"That sounds good", he replies.
"and maybe a salad?" I ask.
"Sure", he replies.
I dial, and a nice boy from Gina's asks what he can do for me.
"I'd like to place an order for delivery...one medium mushroom pizza, and a small Caesar salad"
The nice young man on the other end asks, "will that be all?"
"ummm.....and a meatball sandwich", I say under my breath.
"excuse me?" he asks.
"A MEATBALL SANDWICH, PLEASE."
I can't believe he made me say it out loud. Again.
I ponder...who are these babies, and why are they so fixated on forcing me to eat meat?????
The order is delivered. Normally I use real plates, real forks, our nice napkins with pizza. Not this time. I go straight for the meatball sandwich and have begun eating before Ajay finishes paying the guy. At least I'm sitting at the kitchen table like a normal person trained in today's etiquette...
I eat half of the enormous sandwich by the time Ajay has, in a very civilized fashion, plated his dinner...a piece of pizza and a plate filled with salad. By the time he's sitting down, I'm done with half the sandwich and am reaching for a piece of pizza. By the time he takes his first bite, I'm half way though my first slice and reaching for another one. And I skip the salad altogether. And I am a lover of all things related to salad.
Again. Why are these babies so hungry, and how can I possibly go on eating a meatball sandwich, two pieces of pizza and 8 mini powdered donuts in one day?
Who put all this food in my shopping cart?
Yesterday I felt good. By comparison, really good! I was able to go to the grocery store and everything. What an experience. It was like going for the first time, or maybe like shopping in some one elses body.
Normally, I am a health-conscious shopper. I usually spend my time at the grocery on the outer rows...produce, dairy, and maybe a little meat and fore go all the aisle of name brand foodstuff. I buy fresh herbs, lots of produce, organic milk. I never buy anything pre-made (except for the rare Trader Joe's Gruyere and red onion pizza, but who can blame me? It's divine!), and I typically don't buy junk food. I am conscious of sugar content in food and don't buy things that are excessively sugary or contain trans fats (not saying I'm fat free...the more the Omega 3s and 6s the merrier!) If we have treats, I usually make them at home where I can control the ingredients.
That said, when I went to the store yesterday I had gone too long without eating, which brings on the nausea. Nausea and fierce hunger at the same time. Bizarre. Anyway, I started in produce and got my typical fresh Italian parsley, fresh mint, fresh dill, apples, bananas, mangoes. So far so good.
Then I found my cart being pulled....like being sucked into a black hole of sorts into an aisle I'd never been in before....processed fruit. Look at all the little single servings of peaches! In their own juice!!! Their size is un-intimidating for a nauseous girl. And only 16g of sugar per serving! And look! Single servings of mandarin oranges! And only 18g of sugar per serving! Which should I get? How about both!
I continue on going down these previously forbidden rows of name brand foodstuff. Fruity Pebbles? I looooove Fruity Pebbles! And look! Ramen noodles...the one food product that I survived on in college....what could be better to this belching and apologizing girl than noodles in a faux broth made of salt and dirt? Delicious! I go on to the meat section. For the first time .....ever? I buy ground beef. Yep....ground beef....as in, hardly any quality control in the processing....as in multiple cow's multiple body parts squeezed nicely in that little pound of ground flesh. I can't wait to get home and make a nice middle eastern feast of tabouleh and kofta kabob. Yum.
I head to the checkout. What is this I see? A bakery bin of buttered croissants. I have an unspoken rule about buttered croissants...they are only worth the sin in Paris. And they are never as good as they are in Paris, so why set yourself up for the let down. So I grab one, planning to eat it on the way home. As I turn to the checkout line, I spot a box of "Mini Powdered Donuts". Mmmmmmm, donuts. I haven't had a donut in at least 4 or 5 years. I forgot about donuts. I love donuts. I think I'll take some home with me. Done.
As I thought, the croissant didn't make it home. It wasn't that good but it did make the reflux go back down. I unloaded my grocery bags on my kitchen island and was horrified. Normally, I stare with pride at my cart at the checkout lane....cashiers usually even comment about the healthiness of my food selection....mentioning I must be a great cook. But today....well today is another story. It's as if a teenager with a big checkbook went to the store. After taking everything out of it's bag, I can't believe my eyes. The fresh produce is dominated by food made of nylon and Red #5. Horrified, I pick up the donuts, and head for the couch.
Eight mini-donuts later, I fall into a slumber that might compete with a bear's hibernation. Two hours later I wake up to the phone ringing...it appears that 3 other calls came in while I was sleeping...I didn't hear a thing. Ajay gets home shortly after and notices a look of fear on my face. He asks what's wrong, while eyeing the near empty box of donuts. I say I have really bad abdominal pain...he says OH NO!!! I say, I don't think it's that...I think it's intestinal.
About then, another HUGE cramp comes...so big that it knocks the wind out of me....I actually have to sit on the floor where I was standing. Ajay tells me he's saw this kind of gas pain in his ER rotation, and that I should turn over with my elbows and forearms on the floor, butt in the air to help the gas pass. This is so sexy I can't believe it. My husband coaching me how to.....well, you know.
This is what I get. I have learned from my huge embarrassment that donuts are not worth it, and if one does buy donuts, one must resist eating 8 at a time.
Normally, I am a health-conscious shopper. I usually spend my time at the grocery on the outer rows...produce, dairy, and maybe a little meat and fore go all the aisle of name brand foodstuff. I buy fresh herbs, lots of produce, organic milk. I never buy anything pre-made (except for the rare Trader Joe's Gruyere and red onion pizza, but who can blame me? It's divine!), and I typically don't buy junk food. I am conscious of sugar content in food and don't buy things that are excessively sugary or contain trans fats (not saying I'm fat free...the more the Omega 3s and 6s the merrier!) If we have treats, I usually make them at home where I can control the ingredients.
That said, when I went to the store yesterday I had gone too long without eating, which brings on the nausea. Nausea and fierce hunger at the same time. Bizarre. Anyway, I started in produce and got my typical fresh Italian parsley, fresh mint, fresh dill, apples, bananas, mangoes. So far so good.
Then I found my cart being pulled....like being sucked into a black hole of sorts into an aisle I'd never been in before....processed fruit. Look at all the little single servings of peaches! In their own juice!!! Their size is un-intimidating for a nauseous girl. And only 16g of sugar per serving! And look! Single servings of mandarin oranges! And only 18g of sugar per serving! Which should I get? How about both!
I continue on going down these previously forbidden rows of name brand foodstuff. Fruity Pebbles? I looooove Fruity Pebbles! And look! Ramen noodles...the one food product that I survived on in college....what could be better to this belching and apologizing girl than noodles in a faux broth made of salt and dirt? Delicious! I go on to the meat section. For the first time .....ever? I buy ground beef. Yep....ground beef....as in, hardly any quality control in the processing....as in multiple cow's multiple body parts squeezed nicely in that little pound of ground flesh. I can't wait to get home and make a nice middle eastern feast of tabouleh and kofta kabob. Yum.
I head to the checkout. What is this I see? A bakery bin of buttered croissants. I have an unspoken rule about buttered croissants...they are only worth the sin in Paris. And they are never as good as they are in Paris, so why set yourself up for the let down. So I grab one, planning to eat it on the way home. As I turn to the checkout line, I spot a box of "Mini Powdered Donuts". Mmmmmmm, donuts. I haven't had a donut in at least 4 or 5 years. I forgot about donuts. I love donuts. I think I'll take some home with me. Done.
As I thought, the croissant didn't make it home. It wasn't that good but it did make the reflux go back down. I unloaded my grocery bags on my kitchen island and was horrified. Normally, I stare with pride at my cart at the checkout lane....cashiers usually even comment about the healthiness of my food selection....mentioning I must be a great cook. But today....well today is another story. It's as if a teenager with a big checkbook went to the store. After taking everything out of it's bag, I can't believe my eyes. The fresh produce is dominated by food made of nylon and Red #5. Horrified, I pick up the donuts, and head for the couch.
Eight mini-donuts later, I fall into a slumber that might compete with a bear's hibernation. Two hours later I wake up to the phone ringing...it appears that 3 other calls came in while I was sleeping...I didn't hear a thing. Ajay gets home shortly after and notices a look of fear on my face. He asks what's wrong, while eyeing the near empty box of donuts. I say I have really bad abdominal pain...he says OH NO!!! I say, I don't think it's that...I think it's intestinal.
About then, another HUGE cramp comes...so big that it knocks the wind out of me....I actually have to sit on the floor where I was standing. Ajay tells me he's saw this kind of gas pain in his ER rotation, and that I should turn over with my elbows and forearms on the floor, butt in the air to help the gas pass. This is so sexy I can't believe it. My husband coaching me how to.....well, you know.
This is what I get. I have learned from my huge embarrassment that donuts are not worth it, and if one does buy donuts, one must resist eating 8 at a time.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
What's going on in there, anyway?
Today I'm feeling better than yesterday...the nausea wasn't too bad when I woke up so I was able to get a few things done that I meant to do yesterday.
Today I feel better mentally too. I hate feeling like a slacker, which is exactly how I felt all day yesterday. One more day down, only 282 to go!
This morning I signed up for weekly emails from Babycenter.com and ivillage.com to keep me up to date on the fetal development of the babies. Considering I am reading Your Pregnancy: Week by Week, I'm now getting the same information delivered three ways each week. I think I'm hoping that between the three, maybe one will provide information that the other doesn't, but it's basically all the same. But why only weekly updates? I'm thinking daily updates would be much better...In fact...I wish I had a window on my belly. With a shade to keep it dark when they're sleeping.
This week's major developments are the nose, mouth, and ears are beginning to take shape. If I did have the window into my uterus, this is what I'd see:
The babies have an oversize head and dark spots where their eyes and nostrils are starting to form. Ears are marked by small depressions on the sides of the head, and arms and legs by protruding buds. their heart is beating about 100 to 160 times a minute and blood is beginning to course through his body. Their intestines are developing, and the bud of tissue that will give rise to their lungs has appeared. Their pituitary gland is forming, as are the rest of their brain, muscles, and bones. Right now, my babies are a quarter of an inch long, about the size of a lentil bean.
This seems like a lot of reading and research for a girl who is trying to stay neutral until the 12th week, doesn't it?
Today I feel better mentally too. I hate feeling like a slacker, which is exactly how I felt all day yesterday. One more day down, only 282 to go!
This morning I signed up for weekly emails from Babycenter.com and ivillage.com to keep me up to date on the fetal development of the babies. Considering I am reading Your Pregnancy: Week by Week, I'm now getting the same information delivered three ways each week. I think I'm hoping that between the three, maybe one will provide information that the other doesn't, but it's basically all the same. But why only weekly updates? I'm thinking daily updates would be much better...In fact...I wish I had a window on my belly. With a shade to keep it dark when they're sleeping.
This week's major developments are the nose, mouth, and ears are beginning to take shape. If I did have the window into my uterus, this is what I'd see:
The babies have an oversize head and dark spots where their eyes and nostrils are starting to form. Ears are marked by small depressions on the sides of the head, and arms and legs by protruding buds. their heart is beating about 100 to 160 times a minute and blood is beginning to course through his body. Their intestines are developing, and the bud of tissue that will give rise to their lungs has appeared. Their pituitary gland is forming, as are the rest of their brain, muscles, and bones. Right now, my babies are a quarter of an inch long, about the size of a lentil bean.
This seems like a lot of reading and research for a girl who is trying to stay neutral until the 12th week, doesn't it?
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Okay, who took over my body?
The old me: Coffee, make is strong and keep it coming.
The new me: Tea, half a cup should do it.
The old me: I've never met a glass of wine I didn't like...I just like some more than others
The new me: Beck's non-alcoholic beer in a party environment...otherwise water, please.
The old me: Hold the butter
The new me: Extra butter, please
The old me: No mayo
The new me: How good is mayo? Yes please!
The old me: No to breakfast, yes to coffee
The new me: Yes to breakfast, no to coffee
The old me: Diet coke, and yes I'd like a refill
The new me: Water please, or if I'm nauseated, sprite or organic soda
The old me: whole wheat
The new me: white bread (yes, I get that this doesn't make sense, since the general trend is healthier choices...except for the new love of butter and mayo! But there is something so nicely simple about toast made of white bread)
The old me: Up! Shower! Go!
The new me: PJ's until 11!
The old me: Daily leg-shaving
The new me: That takes too much energy...poor Ajay
The old me: Finish the bottle of wine within a day, or maximum 2.
The new me: I wonder if this wine is still good enough to cook with...Ajay opened it last week.
The old me: No naps. I won't sleep at night.
The new me: Nap whenever and sleep like a rock for 10 hours.
The old me: Pretty darn independent
The new me: Worries about Ajay's drive to work and considers asking him not to talk on the phone and drive at the same time. Later comes to senses, but still.....
WHO AM I???????????
The new me: Tea, half a cup should do it.
The old me: I've never met a glass of wine I didn't like...I just like some more than others
The new me: Beck's non-alcoholic beer in a party environment...otherwise water, please.
The old me: Hold the butter
The new me: Extra butter, please
The old me: No mayo
The new me: How good is mayo? Yes please!
The old me: No to breakfast, yes to coffee
The new me: Yes to breakfast, no to coffee
The old me: Diet coke, and yes I'd like a refill
The new me: Water please, or if I'm nauseated, sprite or organic soda
The old me: whole wheat
The new me: white bread (yes, I get that this doesn't make sense, since the general trend is healthier choices...except for the new love of butter and mayo! But there is something so nicely simple about toast made of white bread)
The old me: Up! Shower! Go!
The new me: PJ's until 11!
The old me: Daily leg-shaving
The new me: That takes too much energy...poor Ajay
The old me: Finish the bottle of wine within a day, or maximum 2.
The new me: I wonder if this wine is still good enough to cook with...Ajay opened it last week.
The old me: No naps. I won't sleep at night.
The new me: Nap whenever and sleep like a rock for 10 hours.
The old me: Pretty darn independent
The new me: Worries about Ajay's drive to work and considers asking him not to talk on the phone and drive at the same time. Later comes to senses, but still.....
WHO AM I???????????
Too tired to care
Last night Ajay had to work...he was on overnight Labor and Delivery doing epidurals and C-Sections, which means he was working with obstetricians all night.
During the course of delivering a baby, he and a couple of the OBs were talking about where we are in the process...6 weeks pregnant, looks like twins, saw two heartbeats, etc. The OBs Ajay was working with told him it was great that we saw two heartbeats, and since we did, it's was 90% likely that the two would survive...meaning only a 10% chance of a vanishing twin. That's pretty good odds, right? Considering I only had a 20% chance of twins, I'll take 90% any day! Okay, wait a minute...what I just said...that makes me think...we had an 80% chance of not getting twins, but we did. So that means even though there's a 90% chance of survival, there's a 10% chance of not survival. Hmmmm, I never thought of it that way until just now.
Ajay went on to tell the obstetricians that I'm doing my part too...I'm really taking it easy, listening to my body, taking naps as needed, etc. At that point, both O.B.s looked at each other and smiled. (What!?....what does that mean, you may ask?) Well, they go on to tell Ajay that OBs tell all their newly expecting Moms to take it easy and eat right just to give them something to do/focus on. The odds are that these new Mom-to-be's will be so tired that they can't help but napping, so by giving them permission to, it makes them happy, and even gives them feelings of accomplishing something for the baby.
Hmmmm, now that I know this, what do I do with it? Continue with my 2 hours of napping every day? Or prove them wrong? Wait a minute...who was that? Was that the old Andrea that pushes herself to exhaustion every day for no obvious reason? The new Andrea yawns, posts this blog and goes off for a nap.
During the course of delivering a baby, he and a couple of the OBs were talking about where we are in the process...6 weeks pregnant, looks like twins, saw two heartbeats, etc. The OBs Ajay was working with told him it was great that we saw two heartbeats, and since we did, it's was 90% likely that the two would survive...meaning only a 10% chance of a vanishing twin. That's pretty good odds, right? Considering I only had a 20% chance of twins, I'll take 90% any day! Okay, wait a minute...what I just said...that makes me think...we had an 80% chance of not getting twins, but we did. So that means even though there's a 90% chance of survival, there's a 10% chance of not survival. Hmmmm, I never thought of it that way until just now.
Ajay went on to tell the obstetricians that I'm doing my part too...I'm really taking it easy, listening to my body, taking naps as needed, etc. At that point, both O.B.s looked at each other and smiled. (What!?....what does that mean, you may ask?) Well, they go on to tell Ajay that OBs tell all their newly expecting Moms to take it easy and eat right just to give them something to do/focus on. The odds are that these new Mom-to-be's will be so tired that they can't help but napping, so by giving them permission to, it makes them happy, and even gives them feelings of accomplishing something for the baby.
Hmmmm, now that I know this, what do I do with it? Continue with my 2 hours of napping every day? Or prove them wrong? Wait a minute...who was that? Was that the old Andrea that pushes herself to exhaustion every day for no obvious reason? The new Andrea yawns, posts this blog and goes off for a nap.
Monday, December 3, 2007
Second ultrasound at 6 weeks
Today Ajay and I went for the second ultrasound...I was really glad that he could be there and share in the excitement.
I've become an expert at stripping from the waist down and now am very good at picking my outfits on ultrasound day accordingly...it is always a good idea to wear a longer shirt or even a dress so you can kind of cover your butt...they give you a paper cover to put on your lap, but since the ultrasound table is positioned away from the door, anyone who opens the door will see your butt if you don't have a long enough shirt on. Sorry, I digressed.
Anyway, we're escorted to the room, the clothes fly off and Dr. H whirls into the room, lubes up the ultrasound transducer, and mentions she's really excited to see what's going on in there. That makes three of us! She gets the ultrasound in place, and in a matter of a second or less, she says, "there's the heartbeat"....and points to an teeny tiny little movement within the larger black dot on the right side.
On the right-side black spot you may be able to see two little white markers that Dr. H placed on the image...that is the length of the actual embryo. The whole black spot is the gestational sac, or yolk that will nourish the little guys while they grow.
She went on to say "hmmm, and what's going on over here? I'm not seeing a heartbeat in the second one...let's check out what's going on over there. Let's try to make sure we don't have a vanishing twin on our hands. Within another 2.5 seconds, Dr. H says "oh, there it is...it's hiding! see? It's right there!" All I have to say is that lady has some serious skills when it comes to ultrasound imaging! Do I see it? No. Even when she puts her free finger on the screen? ....well, sort of...if you say so...oh YES! I DO see it! So there are indeed two little bitty heartbeats. Dr. H goes on to measure my little bitty beans...one is 5mm and one looks about 4 mm. It's normal for twins to play catch up with each other.
This is the 2nd smaller little person on the left in white markers. This one measures 4 mm.
Now comes my famous disclaimer part...actually, I'm now looking at it a little differently...If I'm sharing my information with my cyber friends, you deserve to know what I know so thus, I'm going to tell you all the good, bad and ugly.
Dr. H goes on to say that it's still too early to really guarantee that both will thrive. I'm guessing that since the 2nd heartbeat was harder to find, she's more concerned with this little guy. She goes on to say that it could be the way the embryos are positioned..it could be a lot of things. But the good news is that she can now say with confidence that this is our last Christmas solo...next year will be a whole new Christmas because there will be at least one baby in the house.
Did you get that? It's time to think that this is real. It's really happening! We're going to have a baby! On July 29th! Just shy of Ajay's 40th birthday. We're going to have another Leo or two in the house! I'm going to be surrounded by Leos!
I am officially 6 weeks along today, making the fetal age 4 weeks.
On the way home, I marvelled at how much I respect Dr. H's style. Last week she warned me of the potential of losing a twin, and this week, she subtly but clinically reminded me again. She brought up the potential for one of the twins vanishing today as if to remind me "hey, we're not there yet. The thing I told you last week about not getting too attached to the idea of twins until 12 weeks? It still stands. It's still early...get it?" If she had said something more dramatic or even more emotionally invested, I would have felt like there was reason to panic. She is a good match for me.
I've become an expert at stripping from the waist down and now am very good at picking my outfits on ultrasound day accordingly...it is always a good idea to wear a longer shirt or even a dress so you can kind of cover your butt...they give you a paper cover to put on your lap, but since the ultrasound table is positioned away from the door, anyone who opens the door will see your butt if you don't have a long enough shirt on. Sorry, I digressed.
Anyway, we're escorted to the room, the clothes fly off and Dr. H whirls into the room, lubes up the ultrasound transducer, and mentions she's really excited to see what's going on in there. That makes three of us! She gets the ultrasound in place, and in a matter of a second or less, she says, "there's the heartbeat"....and points to an teeny tiny little movement within the larger black dot on the right side.
On the right-side black spot you may be able to see two little white markers that Dr. H placed on the image...that is the length of the actual embryo. The whole black spot is the gestational sac, or yolk that will nourish the little guys while they grow.She went on to say "hmmm, and what's going on over here? I'm not seeing a heartbeat in the second one...let's check out what's going on over there. Let's try to make sure we don't have a vanishing twin on our hands. Within another 2.5 seconds, Dr. H says "oh, there it is...it's hiding! see? It's right there!" All I have to say is that lady has some serious skills when it comes to ultrasound imaging! Do I see it? No. Even when she puts her free finger on the screen? ....well, sort of...if you say so...oh YES! I DO see it! So there are indeed two little bitty heartbeats. Dr. H goes on to measure my little bitty beans...one is 5mm and one looks about 4 mm. It's normal for twins to play catch up with each other.
This is the 2nd smaller little person on the left in white markers. This one measures 4 mm.Now comes my famous disclaimer part...actually, I'm now looking at it a little differently...If I'm sharing my information with my cyber friends, you deserve to know what I know so thus, I'm going to tell you all the good, bad and ugly.
Dr. H goes on to say that it's still too early to really guarantee that both will thrive. I'm guessing that since the 2nd heartbeat was harder to find, she's more concerned with this little guy. She goes on to say that it could be the way the embryos are positioned..it could be a lot of things. But the good news is that she can now say with confidence that this is our last Christmas solo...next year will be a whole new Christmas because there will be at least one baby in the house.
Did you get that? It's time to think that this is real. It's really happening! We're going to have a baby! On July 29th! Just shy of Ajay's 40th birthday. We're going to have another Leo or two in the house! I'm going to be surrounded by Leos!
I am officially 6 weeks along today, making the fetal age 4 weeks.
On the way home, I marvelled at how much I respect Dr. H's style. Last week she warned me of the potential of losing a twin, and this week, she subtly but clinically reminded me again. She brought up the potential for one of the twins vanishing today as if to remind me "hey, we're not there yet. The thing I told you last week about not getting too attached to the idea of twins until 12 weeks? It still stands. It's still early...get it?" If she had said something more dramatic or even more emotionally invested, I would have felt like there was reason to panic. She is a good match for me.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Let the holiday parties begin
Last night, Ajay and I went to a work-related holiday party. I wasn't panicking about what to wear because just a couple of weeks ago I bought a basic black dress that I knew fit well and looked great. No sweat.
Except, um, between then and now, my whole shape has changed. My once rather voluptuous back side has taken on a new squarish shape...and it's really voluptuous now. And those boobs? Who's are those? Certainly not mine. It seriously looks like I got a boob job. And finally, that big belly (which my sister and I call a bing bong on boys)...it's not a cute little baby bump...it's a lumpy and not perfectly round and fatty display of "what in the hell happened?" It seriously looks like a guy's beer belly after 4 or 5 years of living in a fraternity.
I pulled out every pair of tights I own....I need spandex, and the greater concentration of spandex the better. I settle on some gray tights and pull them all the way up...you know, practically to my bra. We're getting there. Maybe that pair of Spanx that I bought for the really slinky dress could go on top of the tights. Yep, perfect. Here we are...all snug as a bug in my "no sweat" black dress of 3 weeks ago.
Ajay looks dashing as always in a suit. I look lovely too, if I do say so myself. We get in the car and the unexpected happens. Ajay looks at me and laughs out loud. "OH MY GOD!!!!! What WAS that?" My response is obviously we ran over a dead animal. Except we're still in the garage.
Apparently pregnant girls are not supposed to smoosh their internal organs with spandex in the name of fitting into a black dress...apparently we're supposed to wear some sort of smock. Now I know.
To my relief, this morning I read in the The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy that this is totally normal. Apparently, if you're not suffering from morning sickness, your suffering from noxious gas, and if you're not suffering from either of those, you'll suffer from belching and/or reflux. You know how they talk about men finding their wives sooooo sexy when they're pregnant? I'm thinking that's not going to apply here.
Except, um, between then and now, my whole shape has changed. My once rather voluptuous back side has taken on a new squarish shape...and it's really voluptuous now. And those boobs? Who's are those? Certainly not mine. It seriously looks like I got a boob job. And finally, that big belly (which my sister and I call a bing bong on boys)...it's not a cute little baby bump...it's a lumpy and not perfectly round and fatty display of "what in the hell happened?" It seriously looks like a guy's beer belly after 4 or 5 years of living in a fraternity.
I pulled out every pair of tights I own....I need spandex, and the greater concentration of spandex the better. I settle on some gray tights and pull them all the way up...you know, practically to my bra. We're getting there. Maybe that pair of Spanx that I bought for the really slinky dress could go on top of the tights. Yep, perfect. Here we are...all snug as a bug in my "no sweat" black dress of 3 weeks ago.
Ajay looks dashing as always in a suit. I look lovely too, if I do say so myself. We get in the car and the unexpected happens. Ajay looks at me and laughs out loud. "OH MY GOD!!!!! What WAS that?" My response is obviously we ran over a dead animal. Except we're still in the garage.
Apparently pregnant girls are not supposed to smoosh their internal organs with spandex in the name of fitting into a black dress...apparently we're supposed to wear some sort of smock. Now I know.
To my relief, this morning I read in the The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy that this is totally normal. Apparently, if you're not suffering from morning sickness, your suffering from noxious gas, and if you're not suffering from either of those, you'll suffer from belching and/or reflux. You know how they talk about men finding their wives sooooo sexy when they're pregnant? I'm thinking that's not going to apply here.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Bluuuuuuugh!
This morning I woke up to the sound of rain. Normally that is a wonderful sound...we are always bordering on desperation for rain here in Southern California. Our house has a lot of skylights, and normally I LOVE the way rain sounds when it comes down.
So peaceful, so restful, such a wonderful sound.....rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrip (that's the sound of a needle skidding across a record) STOP EVERYTHING! Crap!!! We still hadn't ordered the tarp to cover our new outdoor furniture!!! It's out there getting pounded by rain.
I jump up and pull on my Uggs....bending over I feel something trying to come up from my stomach. Bluuuugh. I feel yucky. I open the door to see how much rain has come down. A lot...and it's still coming down. Ajay is also aware that we (meaning "I") didn't get around to having a tarp made to protect the furniture. I hate it when he's aware of one of things that I didn't get done...I know it sounds silly but I hate to feel like I didn't do my job...to be fair, he does do a really good "I'm disappointed, not mad"....which I'm sure will haunt our adult children 30 years from now. Anyway, after the rain slows to a sprinkle, I run out and start drying off the table...mind you it's 6 a.m. I must look like an obsessive compulsive nutjob! Realize that with every wipe of the table, I am dry heaving and hoping I don't barf on it too. To my utter delight, the water has beaded up perfectly and has not penetrated the table....just like they promised. No damage. Wonderful! I find some big sheets of plastic that we saved from when our couch was delivered and do my best to cover the newly dried table. And then I run inside to try to barf in the sink. Nothin'. Once again, just Bluuuuugh feeling.
So peaceful, so restful, such a wonderful sound.....rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrip (that's the sound of a needle skidding across a record) STOP EVERYTHING! Crap!!! We still hadn't ordered the tarp to cover our new outdoor furniture!!! It's out there getting pounded by rain.
I jump up and pull on my Uggs....bending over I feel something trying to come up from my stomach. Bluuuugh. I feel yucky. I open the door to see how much rain has come down. A lot...and it's still coming down. Ajay is also aware that we (meaning "I") didn't get around to having a tarp made to protect the furniture. I hate it when he's aware of one of things that I didn't get done...I know it sounds silly but I hate to feel like I didn't do my job...to be fair, he does do a really good "I'm disappointed, not mad"....which I'm sure will haunt our adult children 30 years from now. Anyway, after the rain slows to a sprinkle, I run out and start drying off the table...mind you it's 6 a.m. I must look like an obsessive compulsive nutjob! Realize that with every wipe of the table, I am dry heaving and hoping I don't barf on it too. To my utter delight, the water has beaded up perfectly and has not penetrated the table....just like they promised. No damage. Wonderful! I find some big sheets of plastic that we saved from when our couch was delivered and do my best to cover the newly dried table. And then I run inside to try to barf in the sink. Nothin'. Once again, just Bluuuuugh feeling.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Dressing the part or masking reality?
I've written before about my problems with my clothes. (Yes, this is definitely a middle class problem). Before my pregnancy test a week ago, I was bloated from the fertility drugs...when I weighed in at the surgery center before they harvested my little eggs, I had gained 15 pounds since the beginning of this process. Now that I'm very newly pregnant, I've noticed that the swelling hasn't gone down. During my first pregnancy ultrasound, Dr. H shows me why....my uterine lining is thick and lush and my huge ovaries are working very hard in there so no wonder I feel like my belly is already huge...it is! So here is my neurotic dilemma....What kind of pants do I buy?
I suppose the bigger and more to the point questions is am I pregnant pregnant? As in, is this one going to stick? Are these two going to stick? Since I've lost pregnancies before, I don't want to rush out and buy maternity pants.
Would buying clothes made for pregnant girls somehow jinx my pregnancy?
If (baby Jesus forbid) I lose this pregnancy, I don't want a reminder in my closet. I don't want to jump the gun and then be left with all my big-bellied pants and nice loose shirts. In the meantime, what do I wear? The same Juicy track suit that I've been wearing every day? Even I'm getting sick of that! So I wait, and find clothes in my closet that hurt the least.
Writing about pants seems really superficial as I sit here proofing what I've written...however, I think we all know that the pants are just a an indicator of my fear. Fear to be happy, fear to actually believe that my two and a half year marathon of infertility treatments is behind me. I'm afraid of believing the good news.
And why wouldn't I be? For the last week I've been so happy. Having the glimmer of hope that "so far so good" is about me this time. But everyone I foolishly tell about the pregnancy is also told "it's early...really early...we need to wait until at least 10-12 weeks to feel good about the twins being out of the woods. So we can't get too attached yet." We. As if they're the ones I'm protecting with that statement. If I could wrap myself in bubble wrap to better protect myself and the teeny tiny little embryos that are dividing away, I'd do it. But unfortunately in infertility, we don't have control over very much at all, and that lack of control doesn't end with achieving pregnancy. In fact, in my experience, that's where frustration turns to fear.
I read other girl's infertility blogs, and there are common threads throughout them...frustration, anger, confusion, self-pity, jealousy, helplessness, emptiness, yearning, and bitterness. I can easily identify all those feelings because I've felt them. I've rejected them at times, and wallowed in them at other times. But now that the infertility part is over for me and the pregnancy part has begun, am I alone in my fear? Is it normal to be so afraid of the ultimate accomplishment being within sight? Am I afraid to be happy because it's completely out of my control?
This fear of happiness is in a closet in the back of my head...for the most part I'm walking on air. The only other time I can think that I've had this feeling of walking on air is the day Ajay proposed...we went walking around shopping in Los Angeles. I took a few steps, looked at my sparkly ring, looked at Ajay, took a few steps, looked at my sparkly ring, looked at Ajay, took a few steps....but the difference is that I didn't fear anything. Maybe that's because at that point I'd never lost anything, I'd never failed at anything, and I didn't know that it was possible to try really really hard at something and not get results.
So here I am at the original question....what am I supposed to wear? Any clothes I wear seem to be a statement of my mind frame...buy the pregnancy pants, and buy into being pregnant. Stuff myself into something in my closet that's the least painful, and avoid as much future pain as possible by reserving my optimism.
And I thought it was hard to figure out what to wear before attaching all this crap to my clothes!!!
I suppose the bigger and more to the point questions is am I pregnant pregnant? As in, is this one going to stick? Are these two going to stick? Since I've lost pregnancies before, I don't want to rush out and buy maternity pants.
Would buying clothes made for pregnant girls somehow jinx my pregnancy?
If (baby Jesus forbid) I lose this pregnancy, I don't want a reminder in my closet. I don't want to jump the gun and then be left with all my big-bellied pants and nice loose shirts. In the meantime, what do I wear? The same Juicy track suit that I've been wearing every day? Even I'm getting sick of that! So I wait, and find clothes in my closet that hurt the least.
Writing about pants seems really superficial as I sit here proofing what I've written...however, I think we all know that the pants are just a an indicator of my fear. Fear to be happy, fear to actually believe that my two and a half year marathon of infertility treatments is behind me. I'm afraid of believing the good news.
And why wouldn't I be? For the last week I've been so happy. Having the glimmer of hope that "so far so good" is about me this time. But everyone I foolishly tell about the pregnancy is also told "it's early...really early...we need to wait until at least 10-12 weeks to feel good about the twins being out of the woods. So we can't get too attached yet." We. As if they're the ones I'm protecting with that statement. If I could wrap myself in bubble wrap to better protect myself and the teeny tiny little embryos that are dividing away, I'd do it. But unfortunately in infertility, we don't have control over very much at all, and that lack of control doesn't end with achieving pregnancy. In fact, in my experience, that's where frustration turns to fear.
I read other girl's infertility blogs, and there are common threads throughout them...frustration, anger, confusion, self-pity, jealousy, helplessness, emptiness, yearning, and bitterness. I can easily identify all those feelings because I've felt them. I've rejected them at times, and wallowed in them at other times. But now that the infertility part is over for me and the pregnancy part has begun, am I alone in my fear? Is it normal to be so afraid of the ultimate accomplishment being within sight? Am I afraid to be happy because it's completely out of my control?
This fear of happiness is in a closet in the back of my head...for the most part I'm walking on air. The only other time I can think that I've had this feeling of walking on air is the day Ajay proposed...we went walking around shopping in Los Angeles. I took a few steps, looked at my sparkly ring, looked at Ajay, took a few steps, looked at my sparkly ring, looked at Ajay, took a few steps....but the difference is that I didn't fear anything. Maybe that's because at that point I'd never lost anything, I'd never failed at anything, and I didn't know that it was possible to try really really hard at something and not get results.
So here I am at the original question....what am I supposed to wear? Any clothes I wear seem to be a statement of my mind frame...buy the pregnancy pants, and buy into being pregnant. Stuff myself into something in my closet that's the least painful, and avoid as much future pain as possible by reserving my optimism.
And I thought it was hard to figure out what to wear before attaching all this crap to my clothes!!!
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