Archive | September, 2012

Complications

26 Sep

Last week I went to have my labs drawn for the gestational diabetes test.

Totally standard for 28 weeks.

Seriously, that stuff is beyond disgusting. I’ve only ever had the orange flavor when going through testing for PCOS.

I didn’t even have to drink The Juice.

I failed by two flipping points. 

It was a fasting test. I honestly wonder if I had been able to take my meds for the insulin resistance issues I would have passed. 

I now have a diagnosis of gestational diabetes.

Today I had my GD (gestational diabetes, not The Other GD) info class. Where I learned I will be poking myself and testing my blood sugar four times a day.  I don’t have issues with needles, but I would definitely prefer NOT to stab myself multiple times a day.

But at 29 weeks, I only have to do this for the next 11 weeks. Holy shiz. Nugget will likely be here in 11 weeks or less. Oh. Em. Gee. 

I will do anything and everything in my power to provide the best and healthiest environment for my son.

Even if it means keeping track of every morsel I eat. Even on Thanksgiving.

I may or may not have drooled a little bit…

Even though B has a 2 day +/- on Nugget being here on Thanksgiving. He just better be here by Christmas! 🙂

Embarr-ass-ing

14 Sep

We all have embarrassing moments.

Like pray for the ground to open up and swallow us whole embarrassing moments.

My most embarrassing moment is thanks to my father.

Although, when B stepped on the train to my dress on our wedding day as we were walking out of the church and almost exposed my chesticles to both our families and God is a  very close second.

My sophomore year of high school I had a mad crush on my friend’s older brother’s best friend. You still follow? That was slightly confusing to write… 

He was older. He went to a different school. He had a license AND a car.

And he asked me to Winter Formal. Oh. Em. Gee!

We had a fabulous time. So fabulous that I was pretty sure there was going to be A Kiss at the end of the night.

BF’s bro’s BFF (Wait, do guys even *have* bffs?) got me home right at curfew and we were standing in a private corner of the living room making small talk and trying to feel each other out on how exactly we wanted to say goodnight. 

The living room shares a wall with the family room.

Where my father was dozing on the couch.

The couch that was directly on the other side of the wall.

Two feet away from where I was agonizing over whether or not I was going to get a goodnight kiss.

Juuuuust as he leaned in for the kiss my dad decided that it was time to get off the couch.

And that he needed a little extra oomph due to his exhausted state.

He farted.

LOUDLY.

It get’s better…

I jerked back in the Oh snap! Please, Lord, let the ground open up and swallow me whole kind of way.

We looked at each other silently asking did that just really happen?!

Then I saw it.

The green, noxious fumes that came rolling around the corner and into the living room.

Hand to gawd. That actually happened.

The guy got one whiff and said goodbye as he was rushing out the door. To fresh air…

Don’t worry, Dad. I’m pretty sure it’s safe to say I won’t be going on a second date. Job well done.

 

fart

 

What about you? What’s your most embarrassing moment?

 

Pregnancy Guilt

13 Sep

Is it wrong to feel guilty about being pregnant when so many friends in real life and the infertility community on twitter are struggling to get and stay pregnant?

Each couple’s infertility story and journey is different and unique to them.

Comparatively, our journey could be a lot different.

I stopped taking birth control pills shortly after our first anniversary summer of 2010. We weren’t trying, but we weren’t not trying either.

Then I missed my period.

Holy crap!

The pregnancy test was negative.

No big deal, my body just needs time to adjust. I’d been on the pill for about 5 years to help with extreme cramping and really heavy periods.

My period never came.

I took pregnancy tests every few weeks on the off chance that I was somehow pregnant. Always trying to prepare myself to see the one line but hoping to see those two lines saying I was pregnant.

B knew that something was going on, but I took great lengths to hide all the pregnancy tests and tried not to show him how scared I was that I would never be able to give him the kids he wanted. In the back of my mind I didn’t want him to regret marrying someone who couldn’t make him a Dad.  Tampon boxes are the perfect hiding place. 

By November I still hadn’t had a period. I scheduled an appointment to see my doctor and have all the tests done.

Thanksgiving weekend 2010, the bottom fell out of my world. My parents separated. The family unit I had known my entire life was changing. A few days later I was diagnosed with PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome) and was told the chances of my getting pregnant without significant medical intervention were slim to none.  And two days after that I turned 25. Happy freaking birthday to me.

Telling Brian I wasn’t going to be able to have children was far and away the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. I don’t know if it was the wine or the hours and hours of crying but I felt like absolute ca-ca the next morning. Emotional hangover mixed with wine hangover- no bueno!

I started meds for the treatment of the pcos and prenatal vitamins for the other symptoms I was experiencing. (Acne, hair loss, facial hair, bumpy and brittle finger nails) I wanted to punch the pharmacy tech who congratulated me on my pregnancy and need for prenatals. Jackhole.

After several months of missed periods and then periods that lasted 2+ weeks my family doctor sent me to a fertility specialist. After looking at my temperature charts and being monitored by the specialist, she wanted me to start taking Clomid December of 2011 and go from there. After failed Clomid cycles I wanted to hold off on doing another until we figured out how and if B’s new epilepsy meds were going to affect  his fertility. I didn’t see the point in spending time, money, energy and heartache until we knew for sure something else wasn’t going on.

After taking the Clomid I had 2 regular periods. I was really excited that my body was actually starting to function in the way it was supposed to, but cautiously optimistic. I didn’t want to get my hopes up on to have my heart broken. Again.

My period was due 10th-20th of March if things were going to keep going regularly, but it never came.

I finally decided to take a pregnancy test April 7th, 2012 just to see what was going on.

Holy shit, it was positive. As were the next 6 tests I took. 

I was pregnant.

I’ve only had minor complications, right at and just after viability.

 

Getting pregnant definitely wasn’t wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am easy.  But it wasn’t failed fertility treatment after failed fertility treatment after miscarriage after miscarriage, or (so far) dealt with serious complications to me or Nugget.

For that, I feel guilty. It’s not fair that I’m pregnant and will have a baby after 2 years at 27 years old. There are TONS of women who have tried for 2, 6, 8 times longer.

I definitely don’t wish away this miracle pregnancy. I  feel guilty for feeling guilty. But I feel guilty all the same.

I just wish I could wave a magic wand and take away the heartache and financial and emotional cost of infertility and give everyone who wanted it a happy, healthy, uncomplicated pregnancy.

Infertility just sucks a big one.

 

 

Please feel free to comment but note that these are my genuine thoughts and feelings- word vomit or not. Please be kind. 

 

Focusing on the Positive

9 Sep

*There’s definitely some pregnancy/baby talk and a belly pic in this post.*

I’ve been feeling pretty down lately.

I still have the icks and I haven’t been released to go back to work.

The doc won’t let me go back to work until I’m non-symptomatic. I’m definitely still symptomatic. What  26 week pregnant woman has to take anti-diarrhea meds instead of stool softeners. I mean really. 

No work means I’m spending lots and lots of time at home doing a whole lot of nothing. I would love to do things, but my energy level is seriously lacking and I don’t want to potentially expose a whole lot of people to this GI invader. I can’t think of anyone I would wish this upon.  And let’s face it, I can’t stray too far from the bathroom. 

Needless to say, I’ve been feeling pretty crappy. Haha, I’m so punny. 

Today I read a post  from Courtney reminding me to be thankful. That there is always a bright side. I’ve never met Courtney, but the optimism and hope she has blows. me. away.  

I was inspired.

Despite being off work (with no PTO or vacation time) for almost a month and being cooped up in the house there is no denying there are good things going on.

Nugget is doing fabulous. He’s continuing to grow, thrive and measure ahead of schedule despite my being ill and losing 26lbs.

He’s moving, shaking and tumbling a whole heck of a lot. I can actually watch my stomach jump and pop out when I poke at it. It’s the weirdest thing ever to watch Nugget roll from one side of my stomach to the other. It’s awesome but weird.

I haven’t been able to work, but I have been able to have some coffee dates and spend some time with my Dad.  I’ve been able to get Nugget’s room painted, furniture assembled and room mostly set up with the help of Hubs and his parents. I really wish I had before and after pictures of the nursery. The previous owners must have let their kids paint the room. Speckles and splatters ALL over the ceiling and floor boards. And FYI, red takes THREE coats of primer to cover…

I haven’t been able to get comfortable or stay asleep at night (or get out of bed easily) but I haven’t had to get up at the butt crack of dawn to go to work.

And? I don’t have to put on a bra if I don’t wanna! 🙂

Sure, I’d love to go back to work and earn a paycheck, but I really don’t have all that much to complain about.

Image

Here’s the most recent belly pic.

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26 weeks 5 days