Mixed Bag Of Rant

Now that the cat is out of the bag with my shocker of a pregnancy, I can finally talk again! I feel so free! A huge weight lifted off my shoulders!

Let me get down to business.

I need to cry.

I need to whine.

I need to pout.

Why? Because the 1st trimester is the worst. Between puking my brains out and the stress of worrying if my little nugget is going to stick around I am just… exhausted. Or wait. Is that the pregnancy? Ugh. Who the hell am I??

Morning Sickness
Holy hell. I was looking back at my blog posts from my 1st trimester with Jackson. I remember barfing every night, but I do not remember the nausea being so incredibly relentless. My OB took pity on me this time around and gave me a prescription med called Zofran. While it seems to be doing the trick, my nausea control is a very delicate balance. I must eat breakfast immediately when I get up in the morning and I must just sit like a zombie for at least 15 minutes before attempting to move after I eat. Skipping either of these will result in barfy consequences the remainder of the day. I also must eat. All the time. I would say I eat or nibble on something nearly every hour. Those snacks range from a protein bar to popcorn to Sour Cream & Onion Ruffles. Sweets are completely off the table- all of them are a trigger to that freakishly nasty taste in my mouth and make my nausea a thousand times worse. How did I figure this out? You guessed it. The hard way. Yuck.

Weight Gain
The need to keep my belly full resulted in a quick 3 pound gain in my first week alone. As the nausea has increased, my appetite has decreased. I force myself to eat because I know if I don’t, I will be destined to suffer the barfy consequences. Therefore, I graze. My doctor wants me to gain 25 pounds. GAH! That’s RIGHT! When you are a more normal weight they actually WANT you to gain weight when you are pregnant! This is so weird. And yes, the rumors are true. You start to show much earlier with baby number 2. At 8 weeks my regular clothes are miserably uncomfortable. Frantic, I got a hold of my friend to whom I borrowed all my previous maternity clothes. I sort of forgot about the fact that I was 45 pounds heavier 5 years ago. Not a single item fits. Not even a little. While one part of me is jumping for joy over this, the other part of me is not all that thrilled about having to buy all new maternity clothes and Belly Bands? I don’t trust them. I feel like my pants could fall down at any moment given the right tug.

Fatigue
Nothing. NOTHING is like pregnancy fatigue. Newborn fatigue is crazy awful, but pregnancy fatigue is a whole other phenomenon altogether. I feel narcoleptic as though I could put my head down anywhere and just fall asleep. Or not put my head down and fall asleep staring at my computer like a zombie. Or just sit and stare like a zombie, drool dripping from my lower lip.

Sinus Issues
The one thing I feel insanely blessed about in pregnancy #1 was that I never got sick (at least in terms of a cold/flu thing). I suffered through a sinus infection about a week ago and I kid you not, what is usually a minor annoyance in my world has brought me to my knees. Sinus issues are fairly common in pregnancy so mingle that with a propensity towards infections that has developed over the past 4 years or so? Disaster. You can’t take any of the good stuff. The stuff you can take makes you feel worse. I’m pretty sure that I have never had an infection that has caused this much agony. My sinuses were so sore I could actually see my cheeks puffing out from below my eyes. The pressure caused teeth pain which made chewing and eating quite a chore. The sleeping… broken, painful, feverish sleeping. I pretty much called my OB and begged for an antibiotic today. My only hope is that it actually works and that my wussiness doesn’t cause any issues for my unborn child.

Emotions
For the record. Do not trust anything I say and do. Tread lightly. A pregnant Jo is kind of scary. I suddenly gain this awesome confidence to lash out and say exactly what is on my mind with no thought of the consequences. I can be snippy and bitchy but in the next breath I am weepy and sad. As far as TV, everything makes me cry right now. Everything. My husband will find me weeping openly while watching The Voice. Unable to form words I point at the TV to the pretty girl singing “How Great Thou Art.” I mean, do I need to explain it anyway? And on the same day as a devastating tornado that leveled an elementary school? I was a mess. A really big mess. Beyond the context of that particular song, I probably would have cried as much at “Mountain Music.” Or insurance commercials.

For me the 1st trimester is filled with a lot of whining, crying, puking and “woe is me” and all that stuff above? That isn’t even all of it. I skipped the nasty TMI ones. I mostly blame my husband which he proudly accepts. As an infertile, and yes, after 4 years and near hysterectomy, I consider myself an infertile who got incredibly lucky. I always remember saying that I would love to be in the shoes of a pregnant woman with morning sickness. However, while I still sit awestruck over this miracle, I’m not going to lie- it sucks to feel this sick 24/7. I don’t feel like myself and I feel like my work and my family are suffering for it. I don’t care about having to give up things (a.k.a. drinking, going out, etc etc etc) those are easy. When you are so sick that you can’t even tend to the most simple things such as doing the dishes or playing with my son… that is where it gets tough. It feels lonely and everyone around me feels helpless that they cannot find a way to help me. I always try to tell people to imagine their worst hangover and having to relive it every single day, 24/7 for 3 months (or more as it was for me the first time around). I feel an immense amount of guilt over complaining- I really do. I don’t ever want to seem ungrateful for this immense gift I have been given but the 1st trimester is tough and I will not sugarcoat it. So many worries. So much illness.

Yet so much hope mingled in all at the same time.

I will officially begin some weekly belly shots! This is 9 weeks (taken on Tuesday). In my usual evening attire. LOL. Not sure how much these can be trusted… I am all bloat. So much bloat.

As you know from so many of my rants, I have been plagued with infertility since, well, what seems like forever.

I was two weeks away from an ultrasound that would yet again determine whether not I would need to undergo a hysterectomy to rid myself of the ovarian cysts that had attacked my ovary and the relentless pain of endometriosis.

Starting around the week of April 22nd, I noticed that my running was getting very difficult. Despite 2 years of training and regular running, I found myself to be heavy and sluggish. I was getting side cramps more than usual and my pace had really slowed down. When I ran the Get In Gear 5K on the 27th of April, I’m not sure what I was expecting, but I found the race extremely difficult. I was hot. Exhausted. Sore. While I never walked, I was slow. In my final push towards the finish line, I honestly felt like throwing up.

I was blaming a lot of my issues on PMS. I was bloated (which I thought was the cause of my slow running), hungry and wickedly bitchy. I had been expecting my period on the day of the Get in Gear. It didn’t come. I didn’t think about it too much. It wouldn’t have been the first time I had a longer cycle and I didn’t think much of it. However, all week, a very heavy fatigue had come over me.

On Thursday, May 2, the day after my birthday, and my period nearly a week late, I thought, “Oh, what the hell. I’ll take a pregnancy test. It’s not like it will be positive or anything.” Until I saw this:

OH my sweet Jesus. Shaking, I just stared at this test in disbelief.

Is it possible that after 4 years, 2 invasive surgeries and a doctor telling me, “No way in hell,” that this is true?

So, I ran to Target to buy more tests. I got this:

Yup. That is a 2nd line. It’s not dark but it’s there. Holy shit.

Another couple days led to this:

It all became clear. The fatigue. The soreness (yeah… my boobs feel like they have taken a beating). The MORNING SICKNESS. Oh dear god. The morning sickness. I had forgotten how hideous it was. I had forgotten how it can make a totally amazing miracle such as this seem like quite frankly, death. I hate saying that know most of us infertiles would give anything for it, but I would be lying if I said it was wonderful. I am non-functional. Cannot concentrate. Trying desperately not to throw up at work. I’m so tired that it hurts. Oh, if only I could bypass the 1st trimester and fast forward into the blissfully adorable 2nd trimester.

When I got these BFP’s I swore that I would continue trying to exercise and run (HAHAHAHAHAHA). That I would eat healthy (BWAHAHAHAHA). Seriously. No go on both. My exhaustion and paranoia has quickly squashed any notions of exercising not to mention my debilitating nausea doesn’t help with that motivation. As far as eating healthy? My body appears to be rejecting it. I didn’t feel great until I had a hot ham and cheese and fries the other day.

I swear, if one more person tells me they didn’t have morning sickness when they were pregnant, I will hurt them. And no, dear husband, it is NOT IN MY HEAD.

Did I mention that I am emotionally unstable?

While we have told most of our close friends and family, we are still keeping this news from the larger Facebook world for awhile. At 7 weeks 6 days pregnant, it is still very early and I am very paranoid (and rightfully so). However I am choosing to out myself here on my blog because I MISS MY BLOG. I had to chuckle a little bit when a fellow weight loss blogger posted her pregnancy announcement and brought up the fact that when a weight loss blogger stops posting it means they are pregnant. So, very true! It was nearly impossible to write about anything without my pregnancy being a factor in every topic in my life. This is my home for venting, ranting and talking about my most important milestones- I simply cannot be without it any longer!

Everything is perfect so far. My numbers are good (the important ones such as HCG and progesterone), my doctor is tickled that I am sick as a dog and baby is doing fantastic and has a strong & fast heartbeat.

Baby K’s First Photo

Okay, so yes, despite my discomforts which you will hear much about in the months to come and my now too tight size 8 pants, I am completely relishing in this unbelievable miracle. It is as if God said, “No, you are not done yet.” I am beyond blessed. I know this. I’m not sure there are words to describe our shock and amazement. All we can do is just keep thanking God for this beautiful miracle and no matter how miserable I feel, not take a second of it for granted.

That’s right. Today I turned 37 years old.

I convinced a colleague that I was turning 25. When I told her the truth, she was legitimately shocked.

I also did this over the weekend:

I ran the Get In Gear 5K in 34 minutes (and it was a perfect, PERFECT spring morning!)

21 year old me couldn’t and wouldn’t have done that.

Here’s to growing old with strength, grace and humor.