To start things off, this is officially the beginning of week sixteen, so let it be known that I am not skipping this week just because it’s Christmas as well.  And besides, it’s almost 1:30 in the morning and I’ve nothing better to do. 

I’ve been eating too much of the wrong food.  Candy of all sorts, cookies, appetizers, pop, etc. and I’m starting to feel it.  Take today for example:

Breakfast: A sip of water and one Reeses peanut butter cup.  I think that’s all I managed to get down as I tried to get the kids fed and get all of us ready to head to church.

Lunch: A bit more healthy, but not quite solid enough, I suspect.  Salad with fried onions and pecans for topping with Asian Sesame dressing, a few pieces of smoked Gouda, lobster pate on two wheat thins, chips and guacamole…not sure I can remember what else I ate, but I did have two and a half Christmas cookies and split a butter tart with Jenny.  And a cup of Earl Gray tea with cream and sugar.  And some eggnog (“watered” down with milk).  I think that was about it.  I was satisfied, but I get the feeling that it has something to do with how I feel now.

Supper: Fried Tilapia in cajun seasoning, asparagus, butternut squash.  This meal sounds a whole lot healthier and certainly felt better going down since I got some veggies in there, but it was perhaps not quite enough to redeem the rest of the day.  And certainly not enough to redeem what followed.

The rest of the night: Donut and hot chocolate at hockey (someone brought about six dozen donuts and hot chocolate for the annual rec. vs. church hockey game that my father-in-law puts on), one Reeses cup, more or less, since Jenny had a few bites, about six Sour Patch Kids, remainder of a bag of Cheezies, and a few sips of water (still at hockey).  After coming home: one donut brought home from hockey.  We were the last ones there and someone said we should take them.  Thanks.  Now I have a dozen leftover donuts in my house.  I can literally smell them right now from their perch atop the high chair in the living room.  Sickly sweet.  After donut:  water, sip of juice to see how it tasted (new variety, I was curious), approximately 15 vegetarian samosas, most of which were dipped in some sort of plum sauce.  Followed by two cups of water. 

This isn’t even taking into consideration what I ate yesterday (way too much Coke and a slushy on the way home..what on earth was I thinking?).  And what I’ll eat tomorrow.  Or the next day.  I yearn right now for the strength to fast and clean out my system, but pregnancy simply won’t allow it.  And as sick as I might feel now, I know that tomorrow morning, I’ll be hungry again, willing to dig into the last of the donuts to fill my stomach.  Where did the days of yogurt and eggs go?  The days when I made an effort to watch what I ate so that I could quit gaining weight?  Well, I’m on my pregnancy diet now, and what I crave gets attention.  In the past, it’s worked wonderfully for me: I eat what I like when I like and I’ve never gained more than 33 pounds in a pregnancy (and that one was eight days overdue).  I weight twenty-five pounds less now than I did at this point in my last pregnancy, which is obviously a good thing, but my weight loss doesn’t care much for the all-sugar diet (I don’t blame it).  This poor child is going to come out with a sugar (and possibly caffeine) addiction and I won’t know what to do with it. 

It’s easy to write about the ills of my diet right now because my stomach is threatening mutiny at the moment.  Gurgling and aching for relief….with no relief in sight.  My best bet is to take my Diclectin with a nice big gulp of water, take a few Tums, brush my teeth and go to bed.  With any luck, I’d fall asleep quickly and not have to get up to puke.

The problem is that tomorrow, all the same stuff will appeal to me again.  Candy and Coke and chips and so forth will call out to me like sirens.  I ought to resist, but I’m not sure I’ll want to when it comes down to it. 

On a different subject, the ranks of mothers and father keep filling up as my husband’s first cousin and his wife just had a baby girl.  She was a month early and not supposed to be the first grandchild as her cousin was due to be born before her (sometime the end of this month).  The little unnamed thing weighed around five pounds.  Makes me glad I’ve never had a baby that early.  With that announcement, coming by way of my mother-in-law, came another: that little baby will have another cousin, as my husband’s other cousin and his wife are expecting now as well.  It will have taken my in-laws almost three years to have three grandchildren (almost four) while it will only take my husband’s aunt another eight months or so to have three.  Number one born yesterday, number two due in a few weeks and number three due sometime next year (August, perhaps?).  Even though we don’t see them very often, I’m very excited about all the babies coming into the world.  I like to know that I’m not alone in this part of life.  It should be obvious, but somehow it’s just so much more reassuring to have people all around me having babies. 

Well, I feel like I might be rambling a bit and not making much sense anymore (which is highly possible, given the hour), so I’d better put an end to it.  I may even write again this week, but hopefully if I do, I won’t be feeling like puking or falling asleep in my chair. 

Merry Christmas and thanks for reading (if anyone still is)!!


Week fifteen and changes are speeding up, I suspect.  I’ve had far more energy this last week and not nearly so much sick stomach (thank goodness!).  I also have had at least one person comment on my belly.  If I wear a sweater, it’s not so noticable, but with a t-shirt on, I have a pretty noticeable bump.  I also feel a significant tightness in my only pair of jeans.  They were big enough to pull straight off without unbuttoning before I got pregnant, but now I at least have to undo the button, if not the zipper.  My favourites at the moment are grey dress pants that my mother-in-law bought me just after I got married – they came from Salvation Army and cost her a whole dollar.  They still look great and fit nice and loose so nothing is digging in.  I have to wear a belt or they would fall down easily, but that makes me pretty giddy in itself.  Here I am, on my third pregnancy, and the pants that I had to squeeze into before I was ever pregnant fit me loosely!  Hooray!  I feel pretty good about the size I am now and I feel healthy, even if I’m still technically overweight according to my body mass index. 

On a completely (more or less) different topic, my eye was caught by this headline: Skateboarders Rescue Baby Left in Dumpster and article.  Two brothers in Queens, aged 15 and 13 were skateboarding by around 8 pm when they heard the baby making noise.  They quickly went to check and found her facing down in a paper bag.  She was cold, but according to the hospital, she’s fine.  She still had her umbilical cord attached and was very fortunate to be found when she was. 

It still amazes me that people can do that to babies, but in a society where inconvenient children are dealt with in a number of frightening ways, it shouldn’t be a surprise.  I imagine a great deal of it has to do with panic on the part of the mother or at times, both parents.  The baby is unwanted and the trouble is unwanted, even just the trouble of finding a safe place to leave the child.  The parent panics and figures that no one will ever have to know if they put the child in a dumpster or throw them in a river or any number of other quick solutions that endanger or take the life of the child. 

As I read the article, a chilling thought came to me – we always hear the story told when a child is found – whether it lives or not – but how often are babies dumped and not found?  How many children lay unnoticed and uncared for until they die and then are dumped along with banana peels, dirty diapers and un-needed household furniture?  How many are dumped while still alive?  The thought also entered my mind that if that baby had been sleeping or just not making noise when those boys skated by, she may have never been found. 

When I read stories like this, I long for the days when it was acceptable to leave babies at churches or hospitals and not face charges of neglect.  Of course, the ideal would be for mothers who do not wish to keep their children to set up adoption in advance, but I suspect that some (particularly young girls) think in some part of their minds that they do want to keep their babies.  When the child is in their arms after a painful delivery, instead of love and affection, panic ensues.  The thought of caring for the child for even one day while awaiting foster care is simply too much and so they do the unthinkable. 

I cannot imagine that these acts are ever very pre-meditated.  With abortion being readily available, why on earth would someone face criminal charges for abandoning their baby after it is born?  And if a girl has decided not to kill her baby through an abortion, why would she kill it (or allow it to die) after its birth? 

Having a baby can be overwhelming in so many ways, but my only experience has been pure joy upon holding my children.  Instant love.  A desire to protect and nurture.  While I cannot imagine feeling anything but these emotions, there are women out there who do feel something else.  I feel for them and for those babies and the futures they will or will not have.  In the ideal world, we would all wait for sex and marriage until we were ready to be parents (physically and otherwise) and we would cherish the children we bore.  But in that world, what would happen to those unable to conceive on their own?  Adoption is a viable, important option.  I have seen agony on the faces of women not able to bear babies on their own.  I have two cousins who were adopted and they are 100% a part of our family.  They gave their parents what they could not achieve on their own and have been a source of joy to them ever since.  In Canada, using public adoption, couples may have to wait seven years to adopt a baby.  For an older child, the wait is usually shorter, but by that time, most of them have been in and out of foster care or their biological parents homes for years.  I hope that someday, we can provide a permanent home for a child who has been denied one in their young life.  The question is, why do people have to resort to expensive medical procedures or overseas adoption to hold a baby in their arms?  My answer: there aren’t many unwanted babies anymore.  In other words, they are seldom carried to term if they are unwanted by their biological mother.  Even though they are very much wanted by childless couples.  I can only hope that in the future, we will see more education about the blessing those young (or at times, not so young) mothers could be to families wanting to adopt.  Yes, their bodies will look different, and they may have to take time off of work or school to give birth.  Yes, they will deal with emotional issues as they give up that child, but they will know that the life they helped to create is being taken care of by a loving family.

My point wasn’t so much to get into the abortion issue, but the question of why or how any woman could give birth to a child and then abandon it to death or illness.  And how many of these children have been overlooked and lie forgotten in dumps around the world?

Oops..skipped another one.

December 10, 2007

I really didn’t intend to make a habit of week skipping.  I like writing every week, even when things haven’t changed much.  I did have some change last week, though – my belly popped!  I have been able to feel a little difference for awhile now, but only when I was laying on my back and pressing on my stomach.  Now I just can’t suck it all in anymore.  This is definitely earlier than it was with Jenny and Elias – but it is my third baby, so I shouldn’t be surprised.  It would be quite nice if I would start feeling the baby move earlier than normal, too.  With Jenny, I was 18 weeks  pregnant when I started feeling her move, with Elias, I was 19 weeks pregnant….so it’s possible I won’t feel it for another four or five weeks.  But, I also lost twenty-five pounds after baby weight this last year, so I’ve got a little less padding in that area now.  They (pregnancy experts) often say that thinner women feel movement sooner, so maybe I’ll luck out. 

My sister-in-law is eighteen weeks now, so I expect to be hearing pretty soon that she’s started feeling the baby move.  Since it’s her first, she probably won’t recognize it at first, like a lot of women.  When I was pregnant with Jenny, I didn’t believe it until it went on for three or four days.  That little fluttering was just so tiny, it was hard to believe that was the baby.  After I had her, every little bubble of gas or rumbling of my stomach reminded me of baby movement.  I’ve heard other moms say the same thing.  So with this pregnancy, I’ve actually felt things a few times that made me think of the baby, but I’m smart enough to know if there’s only one baby, I wouldn’t feel it yet. 

 Well, not much to say this week, except that I am still getting sick, even though I’ve officially moved into the second trimester (yippee!!).  Maybe by next week, and certainly I hope, by the time I have my ultrasound, I’ll be free of nausea.  My first ultrasound with Jenny was in my eighteenth week and after forgetting to eat breakfast, I drank the required one and a half litres of water…and promptly threw it all up.  I’ve remembered to be more careful since that one.  Eat breakfast and then drink your fluids.  My weak bladder (in the sense that after babies, it doesn’t like holding things in too long) does not like ultrasounds at all, but I love them when you can actually see the baby.  A friend of mine has a picture of her baby “waving” in the ultrasound (another friend’s baby – I’m not kidding you  – flipped me off in his ultrasound when I went with his mom…or at least it sure looked like it).  My kids have never done anything spectacular, but we do have some neat profile shots of them from our ultrasounds.

Well, I’m off to do something more relaxing now…like take a nap or eat something.  Or watch a movie.  Or all three.  Hmmm….that’s a good idea, actually.  Adios. 

Week nine, on the tail end

November 9, 2007

I think it is possible that week nine has been the best so far.  I could be wrong, since I’m technically not at the end of it yet, but for now, I think that is a relatively accurate thing to say.  I had a bad start to it, and a bad end to week eight as well – I threw up once on Saturday and twice on Sunday (one of those times was at a hockey game – hooray).  I feel like, at the very least, I’ve been able to eat more normally this week than I have in the last six weeks.  The abnormal thing about it has been my desire to eat gigantic quantities of food.  I was yearning for a buffet for two days straight.  I may have gotten that out of my system by eating a large portion of an extra large pizza, but we’ll see. 

Meanwhile, in the real world, it is snowing.  Yesterday, I went to the shed to get things out that we would need for the winter – kids clothes to grow into, winter boots, scarfs, jackets, etc.  Christmas lights and a few decorations.  I figured it was smarter to go when we only had a bit of snow and I wasn’t full of baby yet.  I made a few trips and added shoveling the walk and porch to the activities of the afternoon.  When Mike came home from work, we got Jenny suited up and he took her outside and shoveled the rest of the driveway for me.  Unfortunately, I was greeted this morning with fresh snow on the ground and lots more of it falling in big flakes from the sky.  It hasn’t let up in the two hours I’ve been up and it doesn’t look like it’s going to.  Unless it stops snowing this afternoon, the driveway will not get shoveled and my chances of getting myself stuck in it will increase greatly.  Last year, I managed to get stuck in the driveway three times (maybe it was four).  Of course, a great deal of the fault there was due to the huge snow drifts at the end of our driveway and front yard put there by the city when plowing the streets.  Don’t get me wrong – I appreciate the fact that they plow the streets (we wouldn’t be able to drive on them if they never did it), but they think nothing of leaving a three foot deep pile at the end of residential driveways.  We got home one night to about a foot of new snow and two feet of plowed snow blocking us out.  It took us a nice long time to shovel our way in (late at night, mind you) and after that night, the driveway was barely big enough for the van to fit in.  My goal for this year would be to avoid that same predicament by keeping up on the shoveling…but…  The trouble is that when the snow comes down like this, it takes an awful long time to shovel the driveway.  Mike hates doing it when it’s thick like this and I hardly have the energy even on a good day to complete such a big job.  I suppose my only hope today is that it would stop snowing for an hour or so when the kids are having their nap so that I can go out and start the job for Mike.

I suppose none of that has anything to do with pregnancy, but since this is a “journal” of sorts, I may as well journal, even if it’s just about snow.

What a weekend I had.  I picked Mike up Thursday afternoon and he was feeling rotten – he’d been sick since lunch – so I took him home and put him to bed while I made supper.  I was so glad I was feeling good so that I could take care of him – I had a good day on Thursday and had felt good all day.  I went grocery shopping later that night and took Elias with me while Jenny stayed home with Mike and watched a movie.  I was tired by the time we went to bed, but not feeling sick at all.  At two o’clock, I woke up with a heave.  I rushed to the bathroom and threw up.  I went back to bed.  I woke up an  hour later and threw up again.  By four o’clock, I had nothing left in my stomach to throw up, but I still threw up again and then once more before Mike and the kids woke up.  Mike was still feeling a little off, so he called in sick at eight.  I felt a little hungry, so I had Mike make me some toast and before I had chewed two bites of it, I threw up again.  Over the course of the day, I threw up another four or five times and slept on and off in the living room or in bed.  Thankfully, Mike was feeling almost completely back to normal, so he was able to take care of the kids while I rested.  His mom came and took the kids for a few hours, which was also a help. 

I was a bit concerned about being so hungry and thirsty and not being able to keep anything down, so we did talk about going to the hospital in the evening, but Mike didn’t think it was all that bad.  My doctor had told me to come in, but I wasn’t throwing up in the evening and was able to have a bit to drink before bed.  I woke up Saturday morning wanting to eat, so we went out to eat with the family and I had a good breakfast, but still felt a bit sick into the afternoon. 

Meanwhile, Elias didn’t want to nap in the afternoon and was crying hard throughout the day and not wanting to eat.  He was acting a lot like how he had been when he last had an ear infection.  We went to my sister-in-law’s hockey game at four-thirty and I had to spend a good deal of it walking all over the arena with Elias just to keep him happy.  We decided that the best course of action after the game was to grab some supper and take Elias to the emergency room so that we wouldn’t have to wait until Monday to take him to the doctor. 

What we didn’t know was that we would be there for three hours waiting to see a doctor.  Apparently, about forty-five minutes before we got there (at quarter to seven), a man had been brought in after cutting into his arm while cutting up a moose.  He hit an artery and had nearly bled to death by the time he made it to the hospital and was then in surgery for over two hours.  The emergency room was full – although other than the man in surgery, there weren’t any major emergencies. 

By the time we got Elias back to see a doctor, it was after nine.  The doctor finally came in after a nurse had come to give Elias Advil and some Pedialyte, and he said that while his ear was red and his throat looked like the start of tonsilitis, he didn’t have a bacterial infection yet.  We left the hospital at quarter to ten with a prescription and instructions to wait to see if he got better before giving him the antibiotic.

We went  home, put the kids to bed, did a few things around the house and went to bed.  We talked for half an hour and then turned the light off around midnight.  We had noticed a great deal of cars outside the neighbour’s house when we got home, but until we turned off the light, we didn’t notice any real noise.  

Almost as if on cue, the party started when we decided to go to sleep.  Mike fell asleep while I laid there with the wall vibrating behind me.  Finally, after half an hour or more, I decided I couldn’t stand it and went to call the police.  They gave me the standard response (“We’ll send someone out to check it out.”) and I went back to bed.  I heard yelling and talking outside a while later, so I got up to see what was going on.  At the end of our driveway was a vomiting man.  His girlfriend or some other female stood beside him and rubbed his back while he puked and then dragged him running into the house when she saw a police car pull up. 

This was good news – a quick response should mean that I could go to sleep soon.  A second car pulled up and two officers walked into the house next door.  I got back in bed again and heard a bunch of laughter from next door, but no change in the level of noise.  When I got up to see if the cops were still there ten or fifteen minutes later, both cars were gone, but more people had come to the party.  The music may have been turned down for the course of one or two songs, but it was turned up again quickly.  This went on until after three in the morning.  I managed to drift off a few times in my sleepiness, but kept waking up with every new bass line in the music.   

Eventually, I thought I heard someone say something about going home, so I took a look in my curiousity and watched as a great deal of people got into a little red hatchback.  A man wearing a suit and sunglasses finished his beer and threw the can on the ground while another guy wearing tights and a red cape opened the back of the hatchback.  Suit man was then shoved into the back of the car and they all drove away.  After that, I think it may have gotten quiet (since I was finally able to stay asleep), and amazingly enough, in the morning, all the cars were gone from the street and the driveway next door.  It usually seems that everyone is too drunk over there to go home, but I guess they had a few people who were sober enough to drive (I hope they were sober enough, anyway).

The good news was that we slept until almost nine and Elias was feeling obviously better on Sunday.  Sunday is another story all together (we were up late again), but this morning, I was able to sleep until ten (an amazingly rare thing) and I feel fairly well rested now.  I also feel like my pregnancy sickness might be getting better this week, which would be a great relief, especially after having the flu.

I am also feeling a bit of motivation regarding the house.  This weekend just made things a whole lot worse and now I really have my work cut out for me, but maybe I can manage it now..we’ll see.

Two pieces of good news:

I feel good right now!  I threw up and the world opened up to me.  This is what I’ve been waiting for for three weeks now.  Puking really does make you feel better.

The pills I got from my doctor seem to be helping if I take them every morning.  I forgot this morning (that’s probably why I needed to puke), but I’m going to try to only take them in the morning (since my stomach is empty) to save some money.  It would be great if I only had to have this one bottle of pills and not have to ask my doctor for more.  I have five more weeks of first trimester, and I’m really hoping that it will get better and end at twelve weeks.

After I threw up, I went promptly to the kitchen, made myself some ginger tea and had one and a half strawberry cream cheese sandwiches.  It’s different every day, but bread seems to be a staple of my diet right now.  Maybe it’s not so healthy, but I don’t plan to be sick the whole pregnancy, so I can eat healthy later on.  I was reading something yesterday in The Girlfriend’s Guide to Pregnancy about being famished in the second trimester and I literally ached for those days.  That’s one thing I absolutely love about pregnancy and the first few days after giving birth: all that wonderful hunger and the ability to eat to your heart’s content.  Of course, I’ve been fortunate to not gain more than thirty-three pounds during a pregnancy, so I feel okay eating like that, while other women who gain sixty pounds may feel different about it.  My rule is: if healthy food appeals to you, by all means, eat lots of it.  If you can be just as satisfied by grilled salmon as you would be by deep fried halibut in thick breading, eat the salmon!  Eat vegetables that sound good, but put cheese sauce or butter on them if you want to.  Throw the What to Eat When You’re Expecting diet out the window.  We pregnant women have enough to deal with during these forty weeks without adding a perfect diet and calorie counting to the mix.  I believe that diets like that are what make women so afraid to gain “too much weight” during pregnancy.  When they gain ten pounds in a month and their doctor looks at them funny (this happened to me last time), they worry that those potato chips they so craved last week contributed five of those pounds.  My pregnancy diet is to eat what I feel like eating, whether that is asparagus or chocolate chip cookies and milk.

That’s all for now, but I felt the breakthrough of puking was worthy of a post.  Hooray for me!

Week six: I’ll try not to repeat too much of what I wrote last week, but it’s hard to think of much right now.  My stomach is worse this week and that twin thought it nagging at the back of my mind almost all the time.  I broke down and got some pills from my doctor on Monday and I’ve taken a few of them since.  The trouble is, they make me drowsy and they cost a fortune (thirty little pills to ideally take three times a day cost me $48.00!).  I’m trying to limit myself to taking one only when it really feels necessary, but for the last few days, it’s felt necessary all the time.

Someone told me that the sixth week is supposed to be the worst, and I’m really hoping she’s right.  If it gets worse, they may have to put me in the hospital or hire someone to take care of my kids and the house, because I certainly won’t be able to do it.  It’s been hard enough this week just to make sure they’re taken care of and we all get enough to eat.  The temptation has been ever present to go out to eat when Mike gets home, since the thought of cooking something that appeals to him makes me feel sick.

Part of the trick, I’m finding, is eating things that really appeal to me.  I had almost two peanut butter sandwiches (just plain peanut butter, nothing else) and I could probably eat another two just because they are going over so well.  At least it’s natural peanut butter on whole wheat bread and not deep fried ice cream or something.  While I don’t feel like losing weight is a good idea, I don’t want to gain ten pounds in the first trimester.

Another half of a peanut butter sandwich…that may be the end of that for now, though.  The kids are playing (happily? I hope) in their room for now..and naptime isn’t very far away – what a relief!  I’ve been taking naps all week and they do seem to help, although they make me feel somewhat detatched from real life.  I put the kids down at two o’clock, put myself down a little while later, and by the time we all get up, Mike is either home or soon to be home.  Then, in my after-nap stupor, I have to decide what we will have for supper.  That’s the downside of taking a nap, I guess. 

So what’s for supper tonight?  Good question.  I don’t have time to think about that – I have to put the kids to bed and lay myself down somewhere for a couple hours. 

Au revoir.

Sick of being sick.

October 10, 2007

It’s only been eighteen days of feeling sick on and off, but the last week has been bad.  I feel like I can eat anything and feel sick, or eat nothing and feel sick.  Most things taste good to me, but most things make me feel worse after I eat them.  We had cajun black beans and rice last night and I ate a few bites and had to give the rest to my husband and have some plain unseasoned rice and beans instead.  Even that made me sick, but I had a hunch that if I kept on with the cajun, I would really be sick.  I’ve been drinking ginger tea and trying to wait half an hour before eating like they say you should, but it only helps sporatically.  I did make it through my birthday without feeling too bad, so I guess God was giving me a birthday present.  Once the birthday was over, though, I went right back to “normal”.

There’s really nothing new this week…I just felt like complaining a bit.


October 5, 2007

It is quite early in my pregnancy to be having an ultrasound, but I scheduled this one before I knew I was pregnant.  I was having considerable pain once a month that may have indicated ovarian cysts or something similar, and an ultrasound is the only way to find out for sure what was causing it.  I suspected that by the time it came around, I might be pregnant, which would mean that even if a cyst was found, nothing could be done about it anyway.  However, the temptation to see this little poppy seed sized baby is too great, so I’m going in for it anyway.  I suppose it doesn’t hurt anything because if they find something, it could give us warning for any problems I might have during pregnancy this time. 

I have now had two ultrasounds per pregnancy and one when I was a teenager, so this will make number six, and it’s just as miserable as it always has been.  Empty your bladder one and a half hours before the appointment (9:45 am), drink one and a half liters of clear fluid (broth, water, clear juices, tea, coffee) by one hour before the appointment (10:15 am) and then hold it until after the appointment is over (which will probably be somewhere near noon YIKES).  I shouldn’t complain too much, though…the second ultrasound I had with my daughter was in my twenty-eighth week, which meant that I already had to pee all the time anyway, so adding all that liquid was really uncomfortable.  Not only will I have this ultrasound today, but another one when I hit eighteen to twenty weeks.

Status update: my stomach feels ridiculously full and even though I emptied my bladder about ten minutes ago, I already have to go.  On top of that, I’m slightly sick to my stomach and only bound to get worse.  Also, I’m only halfway done with my fluids. 

Back to the subject of multiple ultrasounds.  Here in the north in our primitive facilities, we generally are asked to have one ultrasound at around eighteen weeks, as I mentioned before.  I had my first pregnant ultrasound at that time, but the results came back with the potential of something wrong with my baby (my now two year old daughter), so I was sent back in for another at twenty-eight weeks.  After my first ultrasound in my second pregnancy came back normal, I was very happy to not have to have another one.  However, due to the shape and size of my womb when I was in early labour with my son, they thought he was transverse or breech.  Turns out he was head down, but his head was up really high (which led to being stuck in a bed with an IV in my arm for six hours, but that’s another story).  Again, an ultrasound was necessary to determine this.  Fortunately, they scrapped the idea of removing amniotic fluid via a gigantic needle (basically, amniocentesis, just late in pregnancy and not for testing). 

So here I am, getting the first of at least two ultrasounds in this pregnancy, and I’m telling myself that the reason I’m doing it is to dispel the concerns of twins that are rolling around in my mind.  It was my husband who mentioned twins when I told him my symptoms were like a combination of both previous pregnancies.  I could have kicked him.  But it is literally true; with my daughter, I got sick from eating certain things, but if I avoided them, I wasn’t so bad.  With my son, as long as I ate like crazy and never got hungry, I wouldn’t get sick.  I was also very tired with him.  This baby is taking it out of me big time, though.  Sick all the time and tired nearly all the time, regardless of what I eat or don’t eat and how much sleep I get. 

Well, time is up, but I still have one glass left.  One thing I could mention is that my first ultrasound with my daughter, I drank all the water I was supposed to drink and then promptly threw it all up and had to start over.  I have also had one ultrasound (can’t remember which one at the moment) where I drank all the fluid and then was told I had too much and to go and “pee some of it”.  Have you ever tried to “pee some”?  It’s impossible (particularly when your bladder is full and has been full for awhile).  It’s either all or nothing.

Well, time to start rounding things up and finishing my drinking and trying to stay busy enough to ignore my urgent need for the bathroom.  Less than two hours to go and I can relieve myself.  Hooray!


Two hours later: Went for the ultrasound, thought I was going to die, told the tech that I might wet the bed if he didn’t let me get rid of some of it and was told to “pee up to this line” on a cup.  Amazingly enough, it was possible and it made me feel better (although I still had to run when the test was done).  The unfortunate thing is that it’s too early for them to see the baby.  Oh, well.  I’ll just have to wait awhile to have my thoughts of twins settled.  I’m certainly not looking forward to another one of these, though. 

Hello baby!

October 3, 2007

On the 15th of September, I decided that I really was ready to have another baby.  I have a two year old daughter and a one year old son and actually thought I was pregnant in August, but wasn’t.  Upon my sister and brother-in-law’s announcement of their first pregnancy, I told my husband it was time.

The only thing about saying that is that we have never used any form of birth control, so it’s not really up to us.  We were married six months before I was pregnant with my daughter, and my daughter was seven months old when I found out I was pregnant with my son.  When a whole year went by after the birth of my son, I felt a bit surprised.  After all, it had been the longest un-pregnant time since before I was married.  However, God must have heard my heart, because around the twenty-second of September, I started feeling sick about every other day.  By last week (around the twenty-seventh), it became every day.  My sister-in-law got married on the twenty-ninth and I spent the whole weekend fighting the sick feeling in my stomach and telling people that I was 95% sure I was pregnant.  My dad was here visiting and even though I was only two days late, I took a test yesterday morning (the second of October) so I could tell him while he was still here.  The second line was pretty pale pink, but there were definitely two, so I’m definitely pregnant. 

The baby is due on the eigth of June, less than a month after my sister-in-law’s due date.  I’m counting on my kids doing really well playing together and keeping each other entertained after the baby is born – my daughter will be three on the first of June and my son will be twenty-one months.  This is certainly more space than I expected to have between my kids, and it had its perks.  I started losing weight in January and managed to get rid of twenty-five pounds by August, which puts me below what I weighed when I got married three and a half years ago.  I have had very good luck losing my pregnancy weight, but I had put on twenty pounds just after I got married.  I am still about ten pounds over what I should be to be in my ideal weight range, but I feel good and I feel ready to put on another thirty for the sake of a baby.

I’ll try to update weekly…but no promises.  Also, in the next two months, things may not change drastically anyway.  But I’ll do my best.