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.
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.
My car karma
May 3, 2010
I hate Mr. Mike ________ so much.
When Dad has a point.
April 22, 2010
My dad mentioned last night that I’m more bitter than I have been in previous years.
That’s not really an easy thing to hear, especially when you’re a person who works so hard on shedding the bad mojo to move on happily with your life.
I know you can’t shrug off everything but the fact that it’s showing to outsiders tells me the problem is much more serious than I thought.
Granted, serious is a relative thing – I’m very happy and mostly well-adjusted even.
But the situation with my daughter and my husband has led me to a place of pain that doesn’t overwhelm so much as it always exists.
I didn’t realize being married would make such a difference to being apart and being caught in this mess of my own making.
But it does.
And I didn’t realize that being the parent of a teenager would cause me to long for a little bit of help – not because I can’t handle her or our life together, but because sometimes SHE deserves a person with a different perspective.
But she’s got me.
Nick can’t help from MN and Abbey’s father isn’t active when the going gets tough, so…
Yeah.
I get angry.
She deserves a male father figure in her life that loves her enough to put himself out for her.
And Ben doesn’t do it, and Nick doesn’t have the opportunity.
I blame myself for part of it.
And I’m angry for making such a bad male choice.
Of course… who makes good ones at 15?
Watching the people I love hurt is not something I’m good at.
I’m a mother.
Mothering takes up a good portion of my time and energy, whether it’s focused on my child or someone else.
It doesn’t turn off.
It doesn’t go away.
Being caught in a place that I can neither fix nor escape means that I feel like a failure.
I KNOW my daughter is better off with me.
With me she has the only chance of seeing everyone she loves as much as possible.
With me she has the chance of being able to grow up and make her own choices AND face the consequences.
There are punishments and rewards.
With me she has the only chance of being inspired to go after her dreams and motivations instead of being tempted to settle for what she can get to make others happy.
Sure, I’d love for her to choose the things I think are good for her, but even more than that, I’d love for her to choose the things that ARE good for her – and only by having that freedom and making good decisions and bad ones can you get to that special place.
I know I’m the only one that works hard on making sure her environment is as happy and conflict free as possible.
And even though that means right now that I can’t be as much fun as I would like to be – teenagers provide plenty of opportunities for discipline and restrictions of themselves – it also means that I am giving my all to parenting this wonderful child I was blessed with.
Not just seeing what I can get out of it.
Or angling for the most time.
Sometimes the best thing for her is for me to say no.
And sometimes the best thing for her is for me to push forward and change our reality.
I freeze in fear though. Sometimes.
And sometimes I am angry.
The three of us deserve better.
Yarnie Frustration
March 29, 2010
I’ve been knitting more – my one-time exuberantly overwhelming hobby. It’s still a hobby of sorts, just lacking the old urge to spend tons of money. I think that’s a good change, as I already have quite an interesting stash, for someone who doesn’t own a yarn room to store it in.
For now it sits lonely in my PODS storage unit, and I dutifully climb over the mounds of boxes and furniture to reach it when needed.
It’s quite an effort, actually, so I’ve made sure to only start projects that are well worth it.
There’s something rather calming about it 90% of the time. The urge to bounce and pace and vibrate in my seat slow down just a bit and I can accomplish something beautiful.
The other 10% are days like today.
Where I get excited about a new and somewhat difficult project, knit through 10 frustrating rows past the monotonous ribbing, only to realize that I’m knitting unevenly… having forgotten half of a row in the correct pattern and instead having skipped on to the next.
Yes. It’s Monday. Damnit.
I don’t want any of that Activia crap.
March 25, 2010
Weight Watchers is a double-edged sword.
It helps you make better decisions (hopefully).
It also allows you to have those things that you crave, although in a much smaller amount than your giant ass used to consume.
After visiting Dallas last weekend and indulging in some cookie cravings, it’s been much harder to count the points with healthier foods.
The cravings are larger and have animal-like sharp teeth that keep ripping at my insides when I catch a whiff of tater tot goodness or juicy cheeseburgers.
I’m not sure why this is the case, as I’ve been battling this particular set of demons for over a month now, but regardless, it is harder this week.
And I’m not hungry.
I’m getting enough (more than) food to keep my body satisfied.
It just contains vegetables.
Or even when it doesn’t it’s a smaller amount than I would like.
I eat two pieces of pizza – I’m full.
But I’d like to eat three because it’s so freaking delicious. I don’t. I fight it.
And then the next meal, I’d like an extra bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, not green beans and potatoes.
And don’t even forget the chocolate syrup to go with my milk.
Damnit.
The chocolate syrup, oh how it mocks me from the fridge.
Le sigh.
But I continue on.
Forging my battle with weapons of fiber and whole grains.
A rather flimsy shield against a french fry craving.
Still fiber and grains are good for me.
Or at least Jamie Lee Curtis tells me it is.
And I guess for today, that’s gotta be enough.
Sorry, sirs, but I’m all out of sour apple.
March 24, 2010
I’m all out of interesting.
It’s true.
They had a sale of interesting at Schnucks recently and sold out.
Okay.
So they really sold out of pita bread, but when you consider that it’s the highlight of my life, you can see why I’m not quite up to typing lately.
Is it the gorgeous weather keeping me from typing? No.
The blizzard Dallas threw at me last weekend? No.
Mostly it’s just this lack of anything interesting to say.
This week the nation has been bombarded with healthcare news and I find myself tuning out the folks that are blustering about it. Truth is that we can’t agree on everything, we aren’t going to agree on everything, but knowing people that just don’t have access to healthcare under the current system makes me scoff a bit at those that thing heading in this direction is a bad idea period.
That’s like saying clean water and non-pesticide-laden foods are a bad idea.
Truthfully our healthcare and insurance companies need overhaulin’. And since you can’t kidnap them and fix them up into a shiny Buick in a week, we’re stuck doing things the old-fashioned way.
We’re going to throw out 40 billion nets and hope one of the damned things catches a fish.
Some folks are upset about this. I get that. What I DON’T get is how many people are upset about this without actually reading/researching what is contained in the bill.
Mostly people are just wandering around verbally sticking it to The Man.
And that’s fine, but comes across a bit like “I don’t like this bill because the President looked at me in study hall the other day.” Ridiculous.
Disagree, fine. But give me a reason, for heaven’s sake. You’re not 3. You don’t get to have a valid point based upon ‘just because.’
You can have a sucker though. Cherry or grape?
And don’t forget to wash your hands before and after!
Sigh.
And I’d love to say that I’m open to this because I’m a liberal and have hugely detailed opinions on everything that happens in life.
But it’s more that something’s gotta change and I certainly haven’t thought of a better way. So I’ll try this way for a while.
It doesn’t have to be perfect yet.
With that many politicians hammering the play-doh together, how COULD it be?
But. It’s a start.
And that counts too.
You can’t even skip rocks on a pond this shallow.
March 9, 2010
I’m cranky.
I won’t lie.
Crankiness is the inevitable sign that my hormones have caught up with me and that life is crowding around, preparing to scream in my face.
Crankiness takes up a lot of my energy so I don’t generally yell back when that happens.
Ever have that moment where you KNOW you’re at a crossroads in your life and you’re actually scared of taking the wrong AND taking the right path?
I’m there.
My nerves are leading me down the ever energetic road of vibrating legs – I’m bouncing my desk up and down as we speak – it’s uncontrollable.
I don’t think it would be so bad if I weren’t second guessing so much of what I’ve done until this point in my life.
I’m being led in a direction by my principles and faith that feels right and BIG – so much bigger than I could have ever dreamed of on my own.
And I’m scared.
I can’t share this – these thoughts – with most people because what if they’re just the shallow thoughts of someone who wants to try a million different things in life before she dies?
What if this feeling, this desire to make a difference, is simply a figment of the moment?
And why can’t I stop being so damned vague?
It’s not my nature!
But. What if I say it out loud and people laugh?
Or if it’s the right way and I wish for it – if saying it out loud means my dream-of-the-moment won’t come true?
Will my generic career fickleness come back to haunt me?
Oh surely, it will.
Everyone around the house is doing well – Abbey’s trying out for cheerleading this week.
Yes. I gave birth to THAT child. Who’d have guessed?
I’m much more the nerdling type, but I suppose I can manage my way through the icky world of estrogen that cheerleading builds up for the parents.
this makeup in the morning, doing hair, making sure our clothes look great thing is completely new to me.
I was the kid that did the shower/smell-test/go! form of mornings.
Janie is doing well – the steroids have kicked in, meaning that confining her to the ground has been difficult. She stubbornly waits until I turn my head and jumps on something – and if I see her about to I catch her and put her up there myself. Only for her to jump down and back up as though to prove to the world that she can. Minx.
3rd week weigh-in tonight.
I’m curious if the trend will continue.
I’ve been picking up iced tea in the past few days – a habit that could become a habit… an odd one, since I don’t LIKE tea.
I just miss something to drink besides water and milk.
3 weeks without soda though. 21 days.
Technically they say it’s a habit now.
Horseshit, I tell you. Horseshit.
