19 weeks
August 18, 2010
A small victory.
August 17, 2010
I’m five months pregnant.
I’m carrying low.
My boobs are ginormous and heavy.
My belly sags a bit with the weight of it all.
And today, for the first time EVER, it was okay that my stomach pokes out.
Now.
That may not sound like such a big deal to those that don’t struggle with the daily body issues that I have been dealing with for the past few years.
But for a woman that has felt that the way she looks means that she has no right to take care of herself, no right to stand up for herself, no right to look straight into the mirror, this tiny bit of acceptance amidst a hormonal time of feeling as though my body no longer belongs to me…
well.
It’s a very big deal.
And. Hopefully.
June 17, 2010
I want to say things are getting better.
And they are.
But when things have been as bad as they have been, better is subjective.
I’m afraid to hope that it’s real.
This hyperemesis isn’t anything to play around with.
After three hospital visits and one admittance, I know that I am only in the small potatoes level of this illness and I have NO idea how any of the women who make it through the worse scenarios do so.
I feel more human today… but who knows how long this will last?
I’ve got the Zofran pump – which is a ton of fun – I love stabbing myself with injections every day.
(And people with diabetes everywhere are rolling their eyes at me).
I’m on Reglan, Zantac, Zoloft, B6 and a variety of other smaller things to help me cope and not go insane with vomitatious glee.
And sometimes it even works.
Dear God, Please let it be working.
Let this be a turning point – let this pregnancy start proceeding normally.
Let me feel human again.
A few thoughts
June 1, 2010
1. I will not be sick. I will not be sick again. I will not be sick all of the time. Oh wait, yes I will. But not right this second. Or this one. Or this one. Or this one.
2. I miss my daughter. My life is a bit of a nothing when she’s gone for the summer. Not that I can’t have fun, but it’s a bit purposeless if you don’t count the activities from #1.
3. It’s hard to be excited about a baby that makes you throw up your toenails. Not that I’ve eaten them, just that this pregnancy is a force of nature.
4. My mom is down helping clean up the oil spill. I think the oil spill is horseshit. I’m glad their stock is going down. Someone ought to punch someone else in the nose. A bar fight doesn’t count. I don’t like my mom being gone.
5. The power going out for no good reason in the middle of the night apparently still makes me convinced we’re being assaulted by a massive burglary ring right at that moment.
6. I’ve already lost 10 pounds with this pregnancy. A fact that brings me the only small amount of happiness I’ve had so far since the hyperemesis kicked in. I know that this method of thought is sick and twisted.
7. I don’t like anyone that’s healthier than I am right now.
8. I am a world class vomiter.
9. If I ever get pregnant again, it will be because the sperm is housing some DNA for a future superhero that can swim past any and all barricades.
10. I have nothing interesting to say for #10 because I am once again concentrating hard on not throwing up.
11. Oh! Why is it that I NEVER want to talk about bathroom poops and whatnot, but have no trouble describing anything and everything to do with my so-called vomiting life? weird.
YOU eat a fucking cracker.
May 27, 2010
I don’t really know what to say or how to talk about what is going on.
It’s nothing horribly bad.
No one is dying, no one has cancer that didn’t already have it… that I know of.
I’m just struggling.
Struggling to eat, struggling to drink, struggling to breathe, struggling to sleep, struggling to work.
I’ve been diagnosed with hyperemesis gravidarum.
My luck, I suppose. I’ve developed something less than 2% of pregnant woman get.
I can’t win the lottery but I can vomit up my baby. And it’s frustrating. People assume you just have bad morning sickness. You’re overreacting. “Just eat a cracker.”
Just eat a cracker?
I haven’t eaten anything in days that I’ve been able to keep down remotely… don’t you think I’d give ANYTHING to be able to eat a fucking cracker?
The HER foundation put up this handy dandy little chart – dunno if I’m going to be able to get it big enough to read, but click on it if it’s not.
Tuesday I got IV fluids at the hospital, next Tuesday I have another appointment at the doctor’s office – a place that I fear I will NEVER LEAVE at some point.
I feel like I’ve got some sort of wasting disease – I’ve never been so miserable in all of my life.
Repost.
May 12, 2010
I hate what’s happening to my backside.
I have always had a large ass, but now, without gaining any weight whatsoever, I am now the proud owner of a muumuu ass.
Which.
I know you know what that means.
It’s an ass that starts at my shoulderblades and has no end – at least not an end that anyone can see because who can focus on trying to find an end to that thing when they’re trying just to be in the same room with it without being squished to death against a wall somewhere?!!?
I’m so pissed about this.
Mom helped me feel better about it though… by grabbing my newly growing baby belly and moving it all around to see how the fat makes it dance. Over and over again.
Yep. That definitely helped my self confidence levels.
Don’t even THINK about mentioning food to me.
May 10, 2010
There are fun things about being pregnant… but they don’t happen until you’re a bit further along than I am.
I’m only five weeks, guys.
Five weeks and though the morning sickness has not hit with a vengeance there are mornings like this one… Where I’m not sure if I’m going to vomit or cry, when nothing tastes or smells like it’s supposed to and where my ability to deal with people has gone totally down the drain.
I’m really. really. really. uncomfortable.
The rain outside has turned the entire city a dim sort of grey and I would love nothing more than a nap. A nap where my stomach and my boobs cannot move an inch.
Ah. The things that make me happy right now.
It’s how I spent much of my weekend.
And is not at all how I get to spend next weekend, when my husband will join me in the Memphis area and tell me that I need to move around more and nap less.
Right before I punch him in the face.
Actually, he’ll more than likely be 100% understanding, as he’s been great 99% of the time during my pregnancy so far (a whole 5 weeks in) and has even surprised me in some of his opinions on things…
But.
Because he did this to me.
And because I feel so icky.
I want to punch him in the face.
It’s nothing personal and I mean it with all of the love in my heart.
This is just… first trimester pregnancy talk.
