I Get to Be "That Girl"

That's right. I'm *that girl* now, who posts up pictures of her fetus. The twelve week appointment went really well, but the doctor couldn't find the baby's heartbeat with the doppler. It was hiding behind my pelvic bone or something, so I got to have another ultrasound, an over-the-belly type. Which is why the pictures are not so clear...the baby is still only a couple inches long and hiding behind all my fat. But it was found, healthy and moving and alive.

Anyways....

Here's the first one, which shows the head and a little hand waving. I really don't think it was waving. It was laying there all still and snuggly one minute, and then kicking and waving its hand the next.

Yeah, we woke it up, and it was pissed. I understand this feeling completely. Wake me up when I'm soundly sleeping, and I'll smack the shit out of you too.

And here's the second one that looks more innocent and less annoyed.

Side profile (you can see the skull too, yay me for taking all those many calcium pills) and the arms folded up at the chest. I think it finally calmed down and was trying to go back to sleep.

Makes me want a nap too. What's good for the baby is good for me.

Only Today

Time is going by so slowly, and so fast. Maybe it would be quicker if I wasn't feeling so lousy all the time, but here it drags, day by day. Maybe it feels slow because I haven't really told that many people, so I'm just waiting for one more week to pass to let the rest of planet know my secret. I approach the traditional end of the trimester, I find I am more confused and surprised than in awe of my condition.

I had this notion in my head that when I became pregnant again, once I was done getting over the initial fear, I'd feel this whole down-to-earth grow-organic-peas wear-hemp-sandals vibe, and I would glow with it. I'd be so happy about this whole prospect that you just wouldn't be able to shake the smile off my face. People would congratulate me and I would gush with all my pregnant emotions. But is that how I feel? No.

I have started asking people not to congratulate me. Part of this has to do with the fact that since I miscarried, reading stories about people who have lost their babies has really made me a pessimist. I mean, statistically, once I get out of this trimester, the odds are in my favor, but in reality they're just numbers. Numbers that said last time, you lose, no baby for you. And also in part because I feel like trash. Tired, nauseous, bloated, needing new bras and shirts, wearing a waist extender on some pants. I think I look like a whale, beached and bloated and dying in the sun, not some earth mother who's going to bring life. It's all been so terribly negative.

And I haven't even talked to it this time. I know it can't hear yet, but last time, I wanted to talk to it, sing to it, all sorts of things. Now I feel like I'm holding my breath for 29 more weeks, withholding all these loving feelings, just waiting for the day to come that something goes wrong. I don't think you'd call it depression, but extreme pessimism.

I realize that I have only today. This day, this moment, is all the time I have with my baby-to-be, who wants me to eat so much guacamole that I am really gonna turn green. I should cherish it, but really, I'm just afraid to. Afraid once I get too close I'll wrap my arms around the vision and it will evaporate into dust, suspended in sunlight but still dust. Then tomorrow will come, and I'll have to same chance, and today will be gone, and everything will start new. My body will feel different, my emotions will change, maybe I'll outgrow another pair of pants. Who can know anything? No one, that's the truth.

Sometimes, I all I can do is breathe.

The Hunger

I keep getting asked by people, what are you craving?

Maybe it is a reasonable question, but it seems weird from my prospective. I know I have asked people that question myself, but it just seems confusing from the other side. I'm trying to figure out why they want to know, or why I wanted to know? But my brain is a little addled from not sleeping well and always being hungry.

See, it's not that I'm craving weird things all the time...okay, maybe once in a while...just that all of sudden, I'll see something or smell something and that's what I'll want to eat. And I get hungry a lot. The nausea is getting better as long as I keep something in my stomach, which means I'm having to eat smaller meals than I'm used to, and eat them all the time. And in some sort of vain attempt, I'm trying to be healthy, so I try to figure out what I 'should' be eating. Most of the time that isn't what I want though, and if I eat something I don't want, it either tastes like crap, or gives me some nasty stomach feelings.

So eating what my stomach wants at that moment is what makes it feel better, so that's what I do. With great misfortune, cravings like that can't always be fulfilled, but when they are...well, let's just say that it makes me feel like a cat who needs to curl up in a sunbeam, pleasantly satisfied. Having a nap after a meal is good too, when I can do it. Somehow I'm getting this idea now that pregnant women need to be like cats - rest a lot, eat only what they want (even if it's inconvenient), sleep with their big bellies in a sunbeam, and bite/scratch/yell at anyone who disturbs them or their territory. Yeah. Sounds good.

In all fairness though, I have had a couple of weird cravings, and I suppose it wouldn't do any harm to share. I tend to eat weird things sometimes anyway, so I guess maybe some of this isn't so strange for me, but anyway. The first few weeks it was french fries and cheeseburgers, then chicken sandwiches and fries with lots and lots of mayonnaise (still doing the mayo thing, btw...I have a couple packets in my purse in case we stop somewhere) and as much chips and guacamole as I could get my hands on. I seemed to have days in a row where I wanted the same thing over and over. Not to say that's weird for me, it's usually just not so compelling.

Then I stopped being able to eat vegetables, so I started trying to come up with other things that aren't terrible for me. Like salads, which weirdly, I can still eat. But that became the week I wanted every possible thing that was greasy or fried, especially crab rangoon. I think we went to the chinese buffet two or three times that week.

After all that abuse, my stomach decided all this fried stuff was crap, and my reward for eating more than a few bites of it would be indigestion, bordering on heartburn. Fair enough. I suppose that was good, since it made me want to look for other alternatives, like fruit, oatmeal, cold cereal, corn, and last night, imitation crab. With a side of butter for dipping, and a tall frosty glass of unsweetened chocolate almond milk.

Yeah, I dunno either. Later on, I had a small caesar salad for a snack. And then a bowl of cereal. With the same almond milk, since I forgot to buy regular milk. It was fine, really. At least it isn't going to waste.

Time to go back to the store and see what I'll be having for lunch. Hmmmm...

Squashed

I had this really great idea for dinner, using ground pork and yellow summer squash and sauteing them together with smoked paprika and chipotles in adobo. The pork turned out about how I had envisioned, and then I added the squash, and...

I can't eat it. I have been having an aversion to most brassica family vegetables, but have found I can eat salad greens, carrots, green beans and asparagus. But apparently, squash is on the chopping block now too. I tried some spaghetti squash a while ago, and managed to choke it down, but I just couldn't do it this time. It's just so nasty. It tasted like I imagined it would when I was a child and refused to eat it. Does that mean I'm regressing?

Thank goodness for prenatal vitamins, or my poor little teeny babylike creature would have nothing nutritious to snack on.

In the Days that Follow

Been having nasty sinus/cough/ear/sneezing business going on in my head. I kind of figured it was just extra mucous from all the water I'm retaining, but apparently there's something nasty living in my sinuses again. I wanted to take some Dramamine for the vertigo I'm getting as a result, so I called the nurse who's handling my pregnancy paperwork at the ob's office. Apparently I'm supposed to direct my questions to her right now and leave my poor ob alone with any and all ridiculous inquiries. She said to go see my primary care physician, which I did, and now have some low-level antibiotics to clean the junk out of there. And as much as I don't like it, apparently the neti pot is really going to be my future. So all is well in my skull, at least it will be, and hopefully it won't have any effect on the growing little bean.

That said, the nausea seems slightly more under control. I'm having to eat very weird for me - heavy carbs in the morning, lots of protein during the day, more carbs before bed. I might need a new bag of gluten free pretzels soon. Still dizzy though, still light headed a little, still hella tired, but I'm starting to feel better - a little. It is my hope that this means I'm getting more used to the hormones, and not some other negative outcome. I'm sure that the queasiness will be back before the trimester is over, oh yes.