Decorating the nursery.

So far I've bought 3 prints and 2 pillows for Blastocyst's nursery, with plans for another print and a bookshelf that will likely wait until we're actually in the new place.

The prints:

The tattoo style Dr. Who prints were from: Peppermint Tatty Art on Etsy
The Little Prince/Dr. Who mashup is from: The Gorgonist on Etsy

I got adorable pillows of the 10th and 11th Doctors from Heart Felt Design on Etsy

Now for the planned stuff. In one corner, I plan on having a book/reading nook for the kiddo. I anticipate many nights curled up in the chair and reading together. I'm going to buy this print:

From March Stationary on Etsy

And hang it over the following bookshelf, that I found online at Target:

A returning tap

Tonight for the first time, I felt the baby move against my hand. Every other time I've put my fingers against my belly, all I've felt is the rhythmic beat of my own pulse. Tonight there was a bit of movement going on, little flutters of activity. I pressed my fingers against the belly and there it was, the barest soft taps in an erratic pattern returning my touch. It was almost electric. I pulled my hand away in surprise, but happy surprise. It took a few minutes of rooting around but I felt those returning taps again, and then once more before I started crying. Happy tears, of course. I hope this becomes a nightly ritual between us, Blasto, because it was the best.

Fantastic pregnancy symptoms

This week I've been having some uterine ligament pain off and on, but it hasn't been too terribly bad until today. I'm pretty sure Blasto was getting in some lucky kicks to my ligaments, because I would feel the faint flutters of movement on the right side of my uterus and then suddenly get hit with this sharp crazy pain. It would only last a few seconds, and was happening every few minutes without much pattern. Thanks Blastocyst! Mommy loves you too. Eventually I guess they managed to move so they weren't kicking that spot anymore because the pain didn't come back. For a little while it was straight up hell though.

I've also had acid reflux all today. I love spicy food, I eat it all the time, I grew up eating it. Very rarely I'll get heartburn from something a bit too spicy, but I can only think of a couple of times in my life that's happened. I have never had acid reflux symptoms of a tight, burning esophagus before. It's been persistant all day. I've avoided acidic food and now it's much less noticible than it was during the day. I'm hoping it goes away soon and never comes back. However, from what I've read it's more common in pregnancy so I might have to chill it on the late night chorizo tacos.

It also seems that pregnancy is exacerbating my insomnia symptoms. The night before last I couldn't sleep at all, and tonight I woke up after about three hours of sleep and couldn't get back. How dumb. Hopefully I manage to doze back off again soon, because this afternoon I have a job interview/orientation.

Centering Pregnancy

Centering pregnancy is a program for pregnant women to meet as a group with other women who are due around the same time as they are, talk with midwives, doctors, other birthing professionals, and each other, and keep track of pregnancy together. MCV has been doing the program for the last 5 years. Apparently it's only been available so far to women with normal pregnancies. I'm in one of the first groups for women in high risk pregnancies. Today there were two other women in my group, although the ladies running it are hopeful that we can fill up the group with 8 women in the next couple sessions.

First we took our blood pressures, weight, and I heard the heartbeat. This will happen at each meeting, which is every other Wednesday. Maybe hearing the heartbeat every two weeks instead of having to wait for my once a month prenatal visits will help with my anxiety. Of course Blastocyst was being feisty again and swatting at the Doppler microphone again. Then they settled down and let me hear the heartbeat - nice and strong.

We introduced ourselves and our situations to everyone, and we had to come up with adjectives to put in front of our names that were also alliterations. So in my group I am known as Able Amanda (I was tired and couldn't think of any A adjectives. Huzzah sleep deprivation!), and my fellow preggos are Rocking Rihala and Casual Candice. Ha ha. The dietician came in, and we played a Jeopardy game to go over nutrition facts. I am happy to say that Team A (myself and Rihala) won. Booyah. My obsession with nutrition facts and pregnancy apparently came in handy.

We took a break for some snacks (hallelujah) and then the doctor came in. Apparently each session we'll have a different guest (today was the dietician) and then one of the maternal fetal medicine doctors associated with the high risk clinic that is on duty will come in to talk with us both about the stage of pregnancy we're all more or less in, talk about and answer questions about our specific conditions, and all that good junk. Today's MFM doc was actually the one that oversees my case and the residents that work with me (as MCV is a teaching hospital), and it was good to finally meet the person whose name is on my paperwork and prescriptions.

I actually got some great information on how I could tell if the placenta was starting to have problems early, as it's something that I've been worried about since I'd learned about early placental breakdown in diabetics and the higher chance of stillbirth. 

Next the midwife talked with us, we made a list of rules for our group. I think the main thing we decided was that this would be "preggo time" and partners would only be invited to join the group meetings that are going to be relevant to them. These end up only being two of the meetings, one on December 19 in which we are going to tour the hospital labor and delivery ward and ask questions, and January 30, which will be a birthing class with important information for partners.

I asked the midwife if natural birth would be a possibility for me since my chances for induction were so much higher because of diabetes. She reassured me that plenty of women had natural births under induction, and went on to explain MCV's induction policies. Apparently they try and mimic natural labor as close as possible to induce, even if it means it takes a couple of days. My labor will not be rushed for the convenience of doctors or to empty a room, which is one of the great things about the teaching hospital. MCV in general is very much up to date with the latest research that suggests that a natural vaginal birth with as few interventions as possible leads to the best possible outcome for mother and child.

When you're induced you need to wear a continuous monitor to keep track of the baby's heartbeat, and I was worried I would be confined to bed once the induction happened. However, MCV uses wireless monitors that are completely waterproof so I'll be allowed to walk around, get in the shower or jacuzzi, or any other method of natural pain relief that I need to do to be able to try for the birth I want. The midwife is going to be working with us specifically on pain and relaxation techniques, too. Even if we want an epidural, she pointed out that relaxation is helpful both for mother and baby.

After that, the midwife led us through a full body relaxation technique, not unlike the visualization exercises that I do in shamanism. It was nice, and I think I'm going to start trying to use it when I'm having trouble with insomnia like I was last night.

Our next meeting of Centering is on the 7th, 2 days before my ultrasound and prenatal appointment. :)

The special guest that will be there that time is a prenatal yoga instructor. I'm actually really relieved and happy I went to Centering even though I felt apprehensive about it this morning. It's just the right combination of scientific and granola for me. Ha ha. I think going every two weeks will help me with my anxiety, and help the time pass a little faster. Last night I couldn't stop thinking of holding my baby in my arms, smelling their skin for the first time, snuggling them close to my chest.

I can only hope that I'll be a good mom for Blastocyst.

Also I volunteered to bring the snacks for the next group meeting.

My brain is trying to kill me

Of course I toss and turn all night, completely awake and unable to sleep until an hour and a half before my Centering Pregnancy group meets. NOW I'm exhausted. Am I allowed to call in sick to an appointment at the hospital? Is that even an option? Probably not.

Packing on the pounds

Yesterday I was weighed for my WIC appointment and I was at 206, putting me back at my pre-pregnancy weight. Keeping in mind that my adventures in weight loss had me skeptical about the exact number on the scale considering I had a full bladder, and had eaten breakfast, it was still encouraging. At least until the nutritionist sat down with me and admonished the weight gain. "You've gained five pounds in the last two and a half months." she said. They only want me to gain 15 pounds through the course of the entire pregnancy because of my already high starting weight, which is fine. She attributed my weight gain to the first trimester nausea being over, but really it's probably more because of my discovery of a local taco bar and my persistent pregnancy craving of chicken nuggets.

I have officially decided that I do not give a fuck. All the fucks are somewhere else, and I have none.

I'm going to concentrate on my blood sugar, keeping that where it needs to be and whatever weight I do or do not gain is my business with my body. To be honest, that's probably the best course of action to keep me sane. At my therapy session yesterday I broke down when explaining my struggles and anxieties with my blood sugar. "I can tell this puts a lot of pressure on you." she said. Understatement of the year. Ha ha.

Altogether yesterday wasn't a good day. I find that I look forward to my therapy sessions because I find it easier to talk there candidly, without picking and choosing my words the way I tend to do when talking with pretty much anyone else. I don't know if it's the environment, the fact that I genuinely feel at ease with my therapist, or my own expectations of needing to tell the truth when I'm there. Even though it's a bright hour in a sometimes cloudy day, talking that way leaves me emotionally exhausted.

Later that night Matt took me out on a date to a local cafe that we both enjoy. To be honest, I think he suggested we eat there because he'd asked for pasta for dinner but I didn't want to be confined to eating 1/2 cup of food for dinner when I was really and genuinely hungry. When we got there, he ordered a huge plate of spaghetti and meatballs. The first time we'd eaten there, I got the meatloaf and it was delicious. The last couple of times I tried the meatloaf, both after pregnancy, the gravy made me want to hurl. This time I got the chicken fried steak, sure that they would use white gravy because I've never had CFS without white gravy. It just kind of is part of the dish in my mind. Well, they use the same brown gravy from the meatloaf on it, and I had a hard time eating it. The eggs I ordered with it were kind of cold and super bland. Somehow it just kind of solidified the dull, looming feeling that I'd had all day and I started crying.

Matt said he felt responsible. When we ordered, I had asked if I should get that or an omelette, torn between two of the few low carb choices I had. He had said to go with the steak. I insisted he shouldn't feel bad because I would have ordered it anyway. He tried to get me to order something else in replacement or to get a dessert to offset the carbs I wasn't eating. I don't like to waste food or money so I ate what I could of the eggs and the steak, ate the biscuit that came with it and the spiced apples. We had planned to go to the movies afterwards but instead I asked to go home. We stayed in while I did homework and watched the debate.

I felt embarrassed that I had cried in the restaurant, mostly because I didn't even know why I was crying. At one point when I was arguing against ordering something different, Matt said, "I just want you to be happy." And I want to be happy, and to be honest I don't think I was crying because of the food or anything tangible. I get upset because I think I should be happy but I'm not. I have an amazingly supportive guy who loves me and spoils the crap out of me. I have so many things in our lives finally lining up to bring about a positive change, like the opportunity to focus on my goals without having to bust my ass for little pay just to help keep us alive. I have the one thing that I've always wanted - a child on the way and a loving relationship in which this child can grow. Why am I not happy?

The Big C

Today I went and spent some time with a friend that I hadn't seen in a while. I used to babysit her kids, and last week was the oldest, her 4 year old's birthday. So we sat on the couch and watched as the kids played in the living room. They were excitedly running back and forth from the room to their bedroom, dragging back things that they wanted to show me, pointing out everything in the new house, from the toys they'd been given over the last week to the way that the windows opened over the couch. "Manda, Manda!" they called, pulling me with small hands to the kitchen and then back again, showing me the bathroom and the porch. My friend watched them with a wistful look as we talked about the boy and how preschool was going, and her little girl's new obsession with Merida from Brave. We talked about my pregnancy and I wondered if she was thinking of having more children.

"I've got to get my stuff taken out," she finally said, timidly. Her voice wavered and I stared at her, perplexed. Stuff? From where? I couldn't remember exactly what we had been talking about, because this new information was so out of place and odd, a puzzle that needed to be pieced together.

"I have cervical cancer." she said a moment later, when the kids were rooting around in the bedroom for socks and shoes so they could go outside. Even as I sat and processed it, I think my horror showed on my face because my friend bravely moved forward, talking in the quick way she does when she's nervous, quiet enough that the kids in the other room wouldn't hear even though they're too young to understand the words.

"I thought I was pregnant because things weren't working right." she explained, "but the doctor gave me a blood test and it was negative." She then explained the adventure of the rest of the week, where she'd had her first mammogram and then an ultrasound, when her doctor suspected cancer. They found it early, she assured me. Happily she won't need chemotherapy, but she will be getting a hysterectomy. She doesn't want the surgery and recovery to mar the brightness of Christmas for herself or the kids, so she's putting off the surgery until New Years.

And I'm still processing this. I'm happy and grateful that my friend caught this early and won't need to suffer. I'm sad for her, because she is so young, only 23. Mostly, though, I am hopeful she was serious when she laughed off the future with no more children and said, "I got my girl and my boy, so I'm happy."  I think on my mother's battle with cancer that eventually she lost, and I'm happy that my friend is only losing her fertility and not her life. But then I see that look in her eyes as she watches her children and as we talk about the baby I'm having. I wonder just how at peace she is with this, despite her insistence that she's completely happy as long as removing her reproductive organs will work and cancer doesn't come back somewhere else.

I am reminded that I'm a pretty terrible friend to have, with long bouts of silence and absence, and I'm trying to make a goal to be a better friend, to see her on the weekends and give her a laugh and distraction, cookies and hugs. And hopefully, everything will work out just fine and we will go from friends to old friends who sit on the porch and watch our children grow and play together.

Schedule Change

I got a call today from Mrs. Abrams, the social worker at the hospital. It turns out the Centering Pregnancy group that I was placed in ended up not having a lot of people so I've been moved from March/April moms to February/March, which is the group that she's leading. This also means that I don't have to wait until the 8th for my first meeting, instead it will be Wednesday. Anything to make the time pass a little faster is good in my book.

Three weeks until we see Blasto again!

Even though we won't move until January, I've been looking around for apartments to see what our options are. After talking with Matt, he really doesn't want to move further south and would ideally like to stay in the Mechanicsville area. I agree with this, after all, I know my way around the area decently, which I can't say for Highland Springs or Hopewell. We'll be close to my in-laws, as well as our friends. Also, to be honest, I have a better idea of the safety of the area than I do for others.

We found one apartment that's not far from Mechanicsville on Chamberlayne that I thought was completely perfect. The pictures of the outside looked nice, the inside looked good, and it was a good price. I drove by today on the way to take my friend Hannah back into Mechanicsville and looked at it, and it looked really shady. I don't feel comfortable living there with just Matt and I, much less a baby as well. Oh well. Right now we're thinking of looking at the townhouses right behind the grocery store that he used to work in, or the apartments that we were living in with Alan. If I remember correctly from the paperwork from when we live there, we more than qualify for the income needs based on Matt's salary. I need to look up the apartments that are behind the Mechanicsville public library as well. I remember when we looked at them a year and a half ago, we thought they were quite nice.

Twin mattress, ho!

We couldn't find the leak, so we are on the twin mattress until January when we move into our own place and can once more have our lovely queen size bed back. So far it has been alright. I haven't woken up on the floor yet, even though Matt and I both tend to sprawl in our sleep. I do have to say that being forced to cuddle through the night has been nice. I wake up sometimes in the middle of the night to find his arms around me, or sometimes he'll stir and give me kisses and rub my belly before he drifts back to sleep. I feel very loved, which I do all the time, but in the night when I'm having trouble sleeping and the brunt of my anxiety and worry comes creeping in, it's especially nice.

I got a call today from the Richmond School District to come in next Friday for substitute teacher orientation. I'm excited, and looking forward to working again. Especially working in my desired setting. Not working has been killing me, and a huge drain on my morale. Every time I spend money, I can't help but think in the back of my mind that hey, that's not really my money to spend even though my husband doesn't think of it that way. We've had a joint bank account since we moved in together and we've never split up finances as my money and his money, it's just been ours. We've never had problems, we always talk about things that we plan on purchasing and do surprise purchases so very rarely. I don't know why it's bothering me now, especially since I haven't been spending outside of what we would normally buy. I did purchase some prints for the nursery on Etsy, but when I told him he was fine with it. I'm sure he trusts me not to go crazy.

Still, feeling like I'm contributing will help, I think. I've been tempted to just put my application in ANYWHERE, but there are few places that I feel would hire a woman pregnant in the second trimester, and do I really want to deal with working for a few months somewhere and then having to quit? After all, it's already been decided that I'll stay home with Blasto when they get here. Substitute teaching is kind of perfect for me like that, in that I can work as much or as little as I feel like, contribute into our savings, and it's easy to stop working without fuss once Blasto arrives on the scene.

I'm excited, and hoping it all goes well. When Matt gets home, I'll ask if we can go get some maternity shirts for me that will cover up my tattoos. I'm not worried about covering my wrist tattoo, as it's for medical alert purposes, but my arm and my chest piece will need to be covered. Besides, I have very few pieces of professional attire. I'm mostly a tee shirt and jeans girl, so I'll need clothes to work in as well.

Full calendar

This is the first week where we didn't really have any plans, nothing jotted down on the calendar. So of course I managed to get something wrong. I got a call yesterday from my therapist wondering if I was okay. Apparently I misunderstood last week and while I thought my next session was for next week, two weeks after the intake, she meant for me to come in this week. Oh well. Waiting two weeks between appointments is probably better anyway, I have more anxieties and neuroticisms saved up for sharing!

In even less awesome news, it would appear that our bed has sprung a leak. I need to figure out where it is so I can duct tape it up. Matt suggested that replacing it was a viable option, but um, no. Not buying a new air mattress every two weeks. We might as well just give in and use the twin mattresses from his old bed.

A reassuring visit

Today's prenatal visit was fantastic. There was a med student with the resident doctor that saw me today. We started out by going over my sugars. They've been higher the last two weeks than I had been having, but I did point out that I was sick and those struggles. The doctors seemed unconcerned with what highs I did have, and mentioned that they really weren't that high so my insulin would remain unchanged again. This time I didn't stress about it and took it in stride and found that I'm much happier doing just that.

She asked about the symptoms I'd had in the first trimester and I was able to honestly say that they are pretty much gone, except that headaches have been added to the mix. She said that was normal, which is something I already knew, and said that if I found that Tylenol wasn't helping them, to let them know and they would be able to prescribe something safe for me and baby that was stronger to help. Hopefully it won't come to that. I've only had one headache so far that didn't get better with a dose of Tylenol and it was awful. Haha.

My weight is more or less unchanged still. I was .8 lbs heavier than the last visit, but then again I did eat lunch going out the door to my appointment. Even if that is a real gain from last time, it's a healthy one, considering they don't want me to gain more than 15 lbs over the course of my entire pregnancy because I'm already obese to start with.

My bloodwork from two months ago at the health department FINALLY got transferred over. My blood type is B+, which means I won't need the rhogam shot. Matt's blood type is O+. If the mother has a negative blood type, and there is any sort of prenatal bleeding, there's a chance that the mother's body will start to reject the fetus, so mothers with negative blood types get a shot at 28 weeks and then again at birth to help protect against this. I'm quite happy to find out that I don't need to have a shot in my ass. Ha ha. Even though it is lusciously padded.

I was able to ask some questions about when a hospital tour would happen, and when plans for closer to the birth might also happen. She admitted that even though we're almost to the halfway point, it is still a little early for this, but she told me that VCU has a longstanding history and policy of using a variety of techniques for birth and pain management for the mother. That means that if I go in and say "I want as natural of a birth as possible." then there is going to be a supportive atmosphere with a lot of account into informed consent before anything happens. I was very happy to hear that.

I also mentioned that I had come across information about placental problems in diabetics and that I read that a diabetic was most likely to be induced because of this, and if the doctors were planning on inducing me on principle. Again a reassuring answer. She said that there was no way that a plan to induce me at x amount of weeks was going on right now. She said that yes, most diabetics were induced between 37-39 weeks because of the heightened risk of placental degradation if they hadn't gone into labor by then, but that the doctor wouldn't be making that decision until I was very close to that time, and we could see how the baby was doing, the placenta was doing, how my blood sugars had been maintained, etc.

She also told me that I should plan for a vaginal delivery because that was going to be the priority and that C-sections were reserved for an as necessary basis. I was so happy to hear that. Based on my research, I had already seen that VCU has a lower C-section rate than the local or national average, but I really want a vaginal delivery. The idea of major abdominal surgery scares me, especially considering my body's tendency to heal so slowly. A scrape on my toe took over a month to heal and the scab to fall off. I can only imagine how long it would take of recovery for that kind of surgery, and it's not exactly the best time to have that long recovery when I'm caring for a newborn and Matt's working hard both at his job and also at home adjusting to life as a father.

This visit the baby finally decided to cooperate and not be a little asshole. We got to hear the heartbeat, and it clocked in at 160. The medical student tried to find it first, and she was having a difficult time but the doctor was patient and at one point when the doppler passed over where the baby was we heard a thump where the baby kicked at it. Ha ha. That's my stubborn little monster. <3

I don't go back for another checkup for a month, which worries me and makes me anxious but from what I've overheard in the lobby, it's normal. You get seen every two weeks the first trimester, when the risk for miscarriage is high, then it backs off to monthly visits in the second trimester as long as there are no complications, and then in the third tri your checkups become more frequent as you start getting closer to labor. I'm trying not to freak out about it, but I have to admit that the anxiety is there, simmering under the surface even after such a fantastic checkup.

Either way, I go in November 8 for my first meeting of the Centering Pregnancy group. I'll be meeting with this group once every two weeks or so through the end of my 2nd trimester and 3rd trimester up until just after the baby is born. The social worker seemed to think I'd be perfect for the group and I'm looking forward to connecting with other women that are due at the same time as me and get even more information.

November 9 is both my next prenatal visit and my big anatomy ultrasound. That's when we'll hopefully be finding out the sex of the baby, as long as the baby decides not to play it coy. I'm highly excited and anticipating this, and desperately want to see a hearth with four chambers, a good looking brain, and as an extra treat on top, a weight that's measuring where it should be.

Mommy's Little Monster

It is 4 in the morning, and I have my prenatal appointment in 8 hours but I cannot sleep. I've been so worried and scared that I'm going to get there and we're going to find out that there isn't a living child anymore. I don't even have a reason to fear this, and I know I just need to calm my titties down, but I can't stop it. I've been having nightmares, mostly about the pictures on facebook.

I have a friend that I used to work with, W. He and his girlfriend were expecting a baby, and I think about five weeks ahead of me. A couple of weeks ago, she went into preterm labor and the baby didn't make it. They were so excited to be parents and it's so heartbreaking on it's own. I had inferred that there was something wrong with the pregnancy from a status that W had put up in the evening, and had kept them in my thoughts all day. Of course because of my worry for my friend, I was anxious and worried about my own pregnancy.

I opened up facebook and found that W and his girlfriend had posted up a ton of pictures of them holding their baby, who did not survive. So my screen is flooded with pictures of a 19 week old child, dead. It was completely surreal, and some of the pictures were of them holding the baby with one arm and holding out the camera phone with the other, myspace profile pic style. I completely could not even cope with this, and it left me very upset and so worried. I decided not to say anything, and just hid the news story so that the pictures wouldn't come up on my feed.

I completely understand that my friend needs to grieve, and that having pictures of the daughter they didn't get to take home is part of that process. But did it need to be put on facebook, especially the closeups of a child that is very obviously not fully formed, not alive, and a reminder that even past the "danger zone" of the first trimester, no pregnancy is completely safe? It was upsetting, and I feel guilty for feeling upset, because I feel like my inability to handle seeing that is judgmental of my friend who is going through one of the toughest times of his life. I'm really not trying to be like that.

Either way, I've been reluctant to purchase anything for the baby that can't be used or easily gifted in case the unthinkable should happen. We bought swaddling blankets, and I told myself that if we lost the baby, I could cut them up into rags and use them to dust. We bought a couple of stuffed animals, and I told myself that if we lost the baby, we could easily give them to children of most any age. I've been reluctant to buy any clothes because what if? How could I give away a onesie or a shirt without seeking out a friend or family member who is holding a newborn that I will not get to hold and say, "I have some clothes, they're gender neutral and they've never been worn." I couldn't.

Well, this week we took that step and bought clothes. I feel like for most people this wouldn't be a big deal, but for me, being able to pick out clothes and purchase them is a big step as far as my anxiety goes. In fact, until just now, at four in the morning when the world is quiet and I am awake with my thoughts, I didn't even worry about never getting to put these clothes on a child. The first thing we bought was a onesie set of three pieces. A light yellow one, one that is white with yellow stars all over it, and one that is white with yellow rubber duckies all over it. We bought it in 0-3 month size and told Matt that if the baby ends up being big, then I want them to wear the stars one home from the hospital. If the baby is smaller than 8 lbs as my due date comes up, we should buy newborn size white onesies.

Today I heard that Old Navy had a sale going on maternity clothes but when we got there we found out that they only sold maternity online. Oh well. On the way out the door, we saw a cute onesie with an orange monster on it and it said, "Mom's Little Monster." It reminded me of the Social Distortion song so we got it, and when we swung by my in-laws house, I showed them. No hesitation, no thoughts of what if I don't get to put this on a baby of my own?

I just bought it because in the moment my mind was completely at ease with the idea that Baby Blastocyst is going to be joining us in March, and that's that.

And how does that make you feel?

Today I had my intake session for therapy. I think it went well. It was easy to talk to her, much easier than I thought it was going to be. I get nervous around strangers, worried that I'll say something stupid. I just answered her questions as honestly as I could, and was surprised that things were just spilling out. I cried when I brought up my mom, but I always do. I miss my mom a lot, and wish she were here. I go back in two weeks, and we set some short and long term goals for what I want to accomplish with our sessions. I'm hopeful. I like that feeling.

Future Mommy Blogger?

Somehow I've come to this idea that being a mommy blogger is somehow a negative thing. However, some of my favorite blogs are written by moms, and about their families. These women share stories of their everyday lives in a language I can understand - mostly cursing. They are unapologetic and deliciously wicked. Somehow I disconnected them with the idea of mommy blogging, and made some unspoken vow that I would never be part of that culture - part of the mommy wars that I associated with mommy bloggers.

But really, why wouldn't I? I keep this blog because I was asked by my best friend who wanted to experience my pregnancy and keep up to date with it. My family lives 1400 miles away from me, my best friend even further. Why wouldn't I continue to blog, collecting my thoughts and pictures of my family and future children as I went? That's silly.

All in the timing

Sometimes I feel the most frustrated by diabetes in the fact that because I am on the 70/30 and trying to be consistent and effective with logging my post-meal sugars, I kind of have to plan things around diabetes. This morning I had oatmeal for breakfast. I felt immediately like going back to sleep because I didn't sleep well last night and between that, pregnancy, and this cold, I am exhausted. However, I stayed awake to check my post-breakfast sugar, and so that I don't have a crash while I nap, I'm going to be eating a sandwich before I take my cold medicine. I'll set an alarm to wake me up in two hours so I can check my sugar again and then hopefully get some more sleep. The only cold medicine that was both sugar free and ok'd by my doctor was the diabetic tussin and my pharmacy only had the nighttime formula in stock. I'm anticipating it knocking me out, especially since I'm taking my other medication at the same time and the Prozac makes me feel a little sleepy and relaxed on a normal basis.

All I want to eat is comfort food (i.e. junk) but I'm trying to make myself eat healthy for the sake of the baby (and me too). I think my body has finally truly gotten used to the reduced food/carb intake because I woke up this morning and I wasn't really hungry. I had a hard time finishing my sandwich the other night. I just haven't had much of an appetite for anything. Except chicken nuggets and apples. Ha ha. Oh well. I made myself eat oatmeal this morning and was vaguely satisfied by how yummy it was. Now I'm actually feeling up to a tuna sandwich so I suppose that's what I'm going to go have right now.

Then it's off the dreamland.

Thursday, Thursday!

Thursday is my favorite day of the week. Thursday is the first day in a new week for me, baby baking-wise. Today, I am 16 weeks along. I have the same steps I take on Thursdays, even though they aren't often in the same order and I'll spread them out through the day. I go on the Bump forums and look at what they have to say about this week's development, and check my baby month board to see if the ticker change thread has been posted. If it has, I post in it. Then I spend at least a full minute marveling at how far along my little strawberry has slid on my ticker.



Then I go to Youtube and I look up the video for this week's progress from pregnancy health guru.

Then I read the next chapters on the two pregnancy books I have that are divided up by weeks. One book was sent to me by my best friend. It's A Bun in the Oven by Kaz Cooke. Then I read the next chapter in Your Pregnancy Week by Week that I'm borrowing from a friend.

And that is why Thursday is the best day in the week. It's research day! :D

This week the various sources tell me that the baby is making facial expressions, might be able to hear my voice, and movement might be felt. I've already felt the first movements, although they don't happen often. I'm looking forward to progressing farther along and feeling movement stronger and more often. Huzzah!

Diabetes and the common cold

So because of this dumb cold, my blood sugar has been high. I eat normal amounts of carbs, and yesterday my sugar was high. I did well at lunch, which I had been worried about because I had spiced apples and country fried steak and zero idea how many carbs that was. But two hours later, my sugar was 110, under the 120 my doctor wants to see. I took my sugar again before dinner, and it had popped up to 135. Fan-freaking-tastic. I took my insulin and ate dinner, which consisted of a sandwich. Three hours later I realized I needed to take my after dinner sugar. Even with the extra hour post meal, it was 185. Gaaaah. Matt pointed out that I can't not eat, and higher blood sugar when sick is normal. But it's still upsetting after all my hard work to keep my sugar in check. So I think that I need to call the doctor's office today and ask what's safe for me to take for a cold so I can get over this bullshit more quickly and go back to being normal (for me).

Also, Monday I have my intake appointment with the therapist. Being on Prozac has given me some relief from my irrational thoughts and anxiety, but I worry that it's just a chemical relief. I've dealt with feelings of depression since I was very young and I have a formal diagnosis of severe clinical depression. I just feel like if I were to come off of the Prozac, even after birth when my hormones have calmed down, that I would still be struggling. I'm worried about post-partum depression, too. So I think that seeing a therapist and hopefully confronting and gaining other coping mechanisms for my problems and anxieties will be more helpful than just continuing to medicate and leaving it at that.

Yesterday when Matt's mom called, she asked him when my next doctor's appointment is, which is on the 9th. Matt told her I was seeing the therapist for the first time on the 8th. I just stared him down, and he saw and quickly assured her that it was a routine thing, and changed the subject. We need to talk about what is okay and what is not okay for him to tell about my medical care and plans. I just don't want to talk about having to see a therapist with his parents because it's awkward and I feel like it's an invitation for questioning that I don't particularly have a desire to answer. I'd like to keep my mental health issues private between he, my doctors, and myself. And I guess the internet too.

Sick again

I think I need to call the doctor and see what kinds of cold medicines are safe for me to take. I feel awful and Matt says I have a fever. Fun fun.

The crazy pregnancy dreams are back. The other night I had a disturbing one about my next ultrasound, and a nurse trying to draw blood from me using a needle the size of a straw driven through my palm. It was crazy. Last night I dreamed that Nina, the preschooler that I used to babysit, was unhappy living with her parents. I watched her out of the blue, and found her to be depressed and withdrawn, not at all like her usual self. Her mother had tried to stretch her ears, and had ripped them. She shrank away from touch. It was really disturbing, and I took her out for pancakes to try and cheer her up. Matt said that at one point he had woken up about an hour before I did and he thought I was awake too at first. However, when he talked to me, I would respond but not with the proper things. He said that he'd told me he loved me and I said, "I've got to save you."