Friday, June 15, 2012

Pregnancy Symptoms

I've been thinking about this for a while and have decided against calling it: So you think you want to be pregnant? Because those of you who want kids will have kids. Pregnancy is only nine months (or ten, depending on how you count). Those of you who have done this may laugh and remember this stuff - or maybe it wasn't your issue so you're just grateful it didn't happen to you.

Yesterday brought up some interesting symptoms that I hadn't thought about since I was round with Alex.

While laying on the gurney during the study I was asked to twist in certain ways so as to better accommodate the testing and to not put the baby (or me) in harm's way. I was on my left side a lot, but frequently they needed my right arm or leg or they needed my head to be straight up and down. That put a lot of strain on the right side of my abdomen. One would think that it would pull the muscles on the left, but those aren't the ones being twisted. Subsequently, my right side has been bothering me since yesterday morning. Last night I tried to roll over. Being pregnant, I have to be semi-awake to do that anyway, but I did it without being awake enough and pulled that muscle all over again. That woke me right up! And of course, now that I'm awake, I have to pee. Sitting up hurt that muscle all over again...

I mentioned that I felt my pelvis separate when I sat up on the gurney. I'm not sure how to describe that to someone who hasn't experienced it. It's like an ache that's burning cold right where the bones come together in the front. It passes. It will happen again with more frequency as I get closer to delivering. I almost find it comforting. It's my body preparing for the delivery. Then again, it hurts like heck and nothing makes it feel better except time.

While I was forced to lie still in the MRI tube I kept tasting banana. It was one bit of uncomfortableness (I'm earning my Master's in English - it's a word now) that I tried to avoid dwelling on. Lying down flat, without a pillow, makes the last thing I ate remarkably close to my mouth. Bryn saw a side-view diagram of a pregnant woman next to a woman who is not pregnant. Yes, my stomach is squashed up into my rib cage and makes my esophagus feel like it's backed up. Blech. Makes eating as much as I want to eat - which would be All the food - really hard.



I was washing dishes today. I'm okay if there aren't too many. I found a pizza box under them today. You still can't get at my toaster oven, but the kid's bath toys are clean. Anyway, my hips and shoulders started hurting. I tend to favor my right leg when I stand and then that hips starts to ache. When I switched legs the right hip actually hurt worse... Between my shoulders and my hips I started complaining out loud and Bryn brought me my industrial strength belly band. It is nearly 4" wide of heavy-duty elastic and has a Velcro closure, then there are supplemental elastics with Velcro to snug it up harder. I like corsets so I actually find this band to be pretty comfortable. It also insists that I stand up straight. Standing up straight, I can't reach the bottom of the sink for the belly. I also forgot to take off the band before sitting down. I thought I was going to die. If I had sat on a stool, instead of in a chair, and taken off the band it would have flown across the room and hurt someone.

Bryn put this amazing balsamic vinegar on our strawberries tonight. Alex ate nearly half the quart by herself. I had a small bowl and needed the whipped cream to cut the vinegar. It's strange what I can no longer tolerate.

Interestingly enough, I can still sit criss-cross applesauce (Indian-style isn't PC) and it doesn't bother my hips or my pubic bone. Getting out of that position, on the other hand, hurts both.

In the supermarket, Bryn talked on the phone with the father of the family we are picnicking with tomorrow. And he stood still to do it. I sat on the edge of the cheese case. I walked in circles around the cheese case. I gave up and went to find paper towels and instant decaf iced tea. My hips, legs and lower back cannot tolerate just standing anymore. Even leaning against the cart wasn't comfortable. I had to be moving. Moving with purpose is less depressing than circling the brie.

My face has broken out into rosacea - thanks Mom. It tends to be latent until a hormone shift. Since it didn't happen with Alex, I figured I was safe. Nope. My face is red, broken out, dry and flaky, and itches. Nothing helps very much. When I put on make-up to try to disguise it (which will only make it worse the next day), the cream or powder will find the edges of the flaky skin that didn't come off scrubbing and make me look even more obvious.

Something else that has become more obvious is my chin. I've had whiskers on my chin for years now. It started when I gained a lot of weight in the late 90's with one or two hairs. I'm now beyond counting them and am contemplating the Father's Day specials on electric shavers... Apparently, this is one of the symptoms of my PCOS. The same PCOS that was supposed to keep me from being fertile. Interestingly, one of the triggers for PCOS is being overweight, but one of the symptoms is difficulty losing weight. There are books about how to lose weight if you have PCOS because it's supposed to be different than other types of fat. It would explain why when my family went on the Atkins Diet everyone else lost weight and I gained 12 pounds...

Fortunately, I have never had the Mask of Pregnancy, my vision hasn't changed substantially, and my feet haven't grown. My nose may have. I haven't had swollen extremities for which I am very grateful - I had a friend whose wedding ring needed to be cut off of her. I don't get so much as cankles. No varicose veins - knock wood. Yes, I get a little backed up. Yes, I burp and fart a lot. My digestion, like that of all pregnant women, has slowed down to ensure as much nutritional absorption as possible. That delay causes gas.

My emotions are on a pendulum... I feel for Bryn. I was a pain in the ass this afternoon. I was having some me-time. That means that I was at a class on cloth diapering while I sent Bryn to keep an eye on Alex while she was at the hospital for the Sibling Class. I got out of my class and decided to stop at the bagel place for a sandwich. I was going to go home, put my feet up, and eat my tasty sandwich. But what I did in reality was text Bryn from the sandwich line if he wanted me to pick them up and if they were hungry. Yes, he wanted me to pick them up. No, he wasn't hungry but Alex was. And if I pick them up instead of making them take the bus we could head straight to the supermarket. There went my plans. I also now felt rushed, like I had to beat the bus to them in order to be a good mom/wife. The way the line crept, that wasn't going to happen. But I could refrain from stopping at home and picking up the coupons and shopping bags - that would save time... Bryn and I were texting back and forth and I thought everything was fine. While I was waiting for Alex's bagel, I unwrapped my sandwich in the hopes of having a bite. Pregnant ladies are always hungry - it gets worse if the food is Right There and they can't get at it. I'm juggling the now unwrapped sandwich, the drinks for all three of us, and the newly acquired bagel, while trying to find my car keys when Bryn calls. WTF!?!?! And of course, since he's calling me it has to be an emergency! So I drop everything in the car - including the insides of half my sandwich on the running board so I can find my now ringing phone. Missed call. GAH! I'm now blaming Bryn for trying to starve me. Someone had better be bleeding. Actually, they are at the hospital; it had better be more important than bleeding. Needless to say, it was much less important than bleeding and I was annoyed and frustrated when I got off the phone. My sandwich, like all good sandwiches, deserved to be eaten with full attention, two hands, and easy access to a napkin. I was praying for red lights so I could reassemble it into something I could eat while driving. I was not a happy camper when I got to the hospital.
My sainted Bryn finally got me to explain what was wrong once we got to the supermarket. I clung to him and explained that I suck at taking care of myself and I need him to do it for me. I explained about my plans and how I screwed up and texted him. He hugged me back and kissed me on the top of the head and agreed that I suck at taking care of my own needs first. He promised he would try to help me out in the future, if I talk to him. He can't help if he doesn't know I need helping. A little while later he got a call from the friend and I paced like a petulant child, but that was a different matter all together.

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