I had a doctor's appointment this week, and as usual, I was weighed. I can't remember if I'd mentioned this before, but this doctor has one of those scales where you muck around with the little weights in order to figure out how much you weigh. By contrast, my old doctor just had a scale with the big needle. For the last few visits, I couldn't figure out how to read the scale at my current doctor's office, because the numbers just seemed really weird. This week, the nurse moved a big weight to the 40 mark, and a small weight to the 19 mark. And then it dawned on me: THIS IS A METRIC SCALE! Major DUH moment. :P
I won't go into too much of a rant over metric vs. imperial except that for an overall metric country, I HATE the fact that most people still refer to their height in feet and their weight in pounds. Pretty back-assed, if you ask me. Anyway, I guess I must've been somewhat brainwashed over the last few years, because now I always refer to my weight in pounds and my height in feet, so I always have to do the conversion to quote it the "right" (metric) way.
Anyway, I digress. So as of Monday, I finally "figured" out my current pregnancy weight (40kg + 19kg = 59kg). I guess I could've weighed myself at home, but I've refused to do so ever since I got pregnant. Don't ask why - it makes no sense. In the spirit of the metric system, I calculated my pre-pregnancy weight in kilos, and determined that so far, I've gained 11kg in the last 33 weeks. I decided to search around the Web to see if that weight gain was normal, and this is what I found on BabyCenter.ca. The first part of the article says that you're looking at gaining an average of 11kg by the end of your pregnancy when you add up things like baby, placenta, uterine growth, extra blood volume, and so on. At 33.5 weeks, I had already gained 11kg. Alarm bells went off in my mind. Now, before you feel the urge to smack me because of my weight gain complaints, read on. Then you may give me a virtual smack. :) As I was saying, I read further down the page, and realized that 11kg is merely an AVERAGE (makes sense), and that the amount of weight you should gain during pregnancy is based on your BMI. Being the keener that I am, I calculated my pre-pregnancy BMI to be approximately 18.75. According to the BabyCenter.ca article, it means that I should be gaining between 12.5kg and 18kg. The 18kg (~40lbs for you non-metric folks out there) upper-limit seems a bit excessive, and I'm guessing that that's reserved for women who were under-weight before getting pregnant. The moral of the story is that my 11kg (~24lb) gain over 33.5 weeks is normal enough, so I really should shut the hell up.
I really have no reason to worry. Most people have told me that I look pretty good for a pregnant gal, and that alone should have been reassuring. I guess I need the backing of numbers to re-assure me. I have to admit that freaked out a bit when I read a few weeks back that rapid weight gain occurs in the 3rd trimester and that, while that's normal, I don't want to go crazy and gain more than I need to by having sweets and all that. I live off of fruits and fruit juices. I tend to drink the no-sugar-added juices, but even "natural" fruit juices still HAVE naturally-occurring sugar. I would hate to be doing well throughout my pregnancy weight-wise, only to blow up in the home stretch.
I probably sound like a broken record today, since I've harped on the weight thing here and there throughout the life of this blog. The purpose of this blog, however, is to allow me to vent, so venting is what I've done. On that note, I promise to not mention the weight gain thing ever again on my blog for the duration of my pregnancy.
Showing posts with label Freaking out. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Freaking out. Show all posts
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
Not Feeling the Love
The closer I get to my due date, I can't help but wonder if I should've done things differently. In the beginning, even though I was really excited about the pregnancy, I was also pretty upset by it for making me feel so crappy all the time and for changing my body so much. Should I have done things differently? Should I have complained less or been less crabby about it?
I was so afraid of miscarrying, that I detached myself completely from the pregnancy. The stats are CRAZY. There's a 20-30% chance of miscarrying before a heartbeat is detected. After that, it drops down to 5%. When we told our parents partway into my first trimester that I was pregnant, I told them not to get too excited and to not get too crazy with buying baby things just yet.
I'm probably less detached now, especially after I started feeling PK moving. That put the pregnancy into a whole new perspective for me. It was the "Holy crap! There's a human being growing inside me!" moment of realization. At the same time, I feel as if I don't have that connection to PK that I see others having with their unborn babies. I don't talk to her. I don't rub my belly. I don't usually play music around her - I seriously keep forgetting to do that now that band practice is done for the summer. The hubby does all the talking and belly rubbing. And he likes to sing her some songs that we made up early on when we were dating (they're totally silly but could totally be put into a kiddie album - there's my lost calling!). As for me, I just poke my belly sometimes when she doesn't move for a while to make sure she's okay. When when she starts moving again, sometimes I'll say "Welcome back!" to her, and that's about it.
Will I be this detached when PK is born, or will the gush of unconditional love flow freely into me like a burst dam as soon as she makes her world début? Will I know how to hold her and calm her down if she's feeling distressed, hungry, or poopy? I really can't see myself doing that, but they say that the maternal instinct does kick in.
Hell, I have trouble taking care of myself sometimes. I'm 28 but I still feel like a kid some days. I still call my mom crying if I've got a problem or need advice. I seek parental approval all the time. I feel as if half the things I do revolve around getting an approving nod or comment from my parents. I need them to tell me that they're proud of me, and that I've done well for myself.
And now I'm supposed to do that for my own kid??? I'm just hoping that the Maternal Instinct Switch flicks on when it's supposed to...
I was so afraid of miscarrying, that I detached myself completely from the pregnancy. The stats are CRAZY. There's a 20-30% chance of miscarrying before a heartbeat is detected. After that, it drops down to 5%. When we told our parents partway into my first trimester that I was pregnant, I told them not to get too excited and to not get too crazy with buying baby things just yet.
I'm probably less detached now, especially after I started feeling PK moving. That put the pregnancy into a whole new perspective for me. It was the "Holy crap! There's a human being growing inside me!" moment of realization. At the same time, I feel as if I don't have that connection to PK that I see others having with their unborn babies. I don't talk to her. I don't rub my belly. I don't usually play music around her - I seriously keep forgetting to do that now that band practice is done for the summer. The hubby does all the talking and belly rubbing. And he likes to sing her some songs that we made up early on when we were dating (they're totally silly but could totally be put into a kiddie album - there's my lost calling!). As for me, I just poke my belly sometimes when she doesn't move for a while to make sure she's okay. When when she starts moving again, sometimes I'll say "Welcome back!" to her, and that's about it.
Will I be this detached when PK is born, or will the gush of unconditional love flow freely into me like a burst dam as soon as she makes her world début? Will I know how to hold her and calm her down if she's feeling distressed, hungry, or poopy? I really can't see myself doing that, but they say that the maternal instinct does kick in.
Hell, I have trouble taking care of myself sometimes. I'm 28 but I still feel like a kid some days. I still call my mom crying if I've got a problem or need advice. I seek parental approval all the time. I feel as if half the things I do revolve around getting an approving nod or comment from my parents. I need them to tell me that they're proud of me, and that I've done well for myself.
And now I'm supposed to do that for my own kid??? I'm just hoping that the Maternal Instinct Switch flicks on when it's supposed to...
Thursday, June 5, 2008
HypnoBirthing in Review
I'm really glad that I'm taking the HypnoBirthing classes, and even happier that the hubby has totally gotten into it. Although I totally dragged him into this, he comes into the classes with a very cheery disposition and is always ready to participate. That's my boy!
The classes are great because they're so much more than just the breathing and meditation. They're also all about birthing prep. It has been quite the stark contrast to the Journey Into Childbirth class that the hubby and I took back in March or April (can't remember which). That class was useful but it was more centered around childbirth being more of a medical thing. Granted, it was refreshing to know what to expect from an epidural (should I ever need one - don't want to think about that). At the same time, it's equally-refreshing to hear that women CAN give birth without epidurals and that I'm not crazy for wanting a natural birth.
While I'm sold on HypnoBirthing, however, I am still pretty apprehensive about the day I give birth. First off, I don't know how my doctor will react to it. Part of me thinks that he'll mock me. The hubby and I still need to work out a birth plan so that we can discuss it with him and let him know that we want a natural birth.
Secondly, I hear that the nurses attending the births can be on the bitchy side and can get pretty darn bossy when it comes to showtime. One girl in my class said just today that she wanted to try a different birthing position (other than the standard lie-on-your-back position), and that the nurse gave her some lipservice over it. I heard of another girl who wasn't allowed to use her the breathing techniques that she'd practiced, having been told by the nurse that she was "getting in the way". I'm sure that not all nurses are like that, but it's good to be aware that some nurses ARE.
The other part of my anxiety stems from the fact that I don't know if the hubby and I can handle all this HypnoBirthing stuff on our own when it comes to showtime. Part of me would feel really comfortable having a doula around (I NEVER thought I'd ever hear myself say that), because she could tell off the hospital staff if they gave us trouble, and could walk me through my breathing exercises without me wanting to tell her off. I could totally see myself telling the hubby to go fly a kite during labor if he were to try to calm me down. The hubby could probably tell off the hospital staff if he needed to, but would he cave if a nurse or doctor said that my membrane needed to be ruptured at a certain point even if it wasn't life-threatening? Or could he tell the nurse to bugger off if she (or he) keeps trying to offer me drugs?
Fortunately, we still have some time to work this stuff out! Stay tuned!
The classes are great because they're so much more than just the breathing and meditation. They're also all about birthing prep. It has been quite the stark contrast to the Journey Into Childbirth class that the hubby and I took back in March or April (can't remember which). That class was useful but it was more centered around childbirth being more of a medical thing. Granted, it was refreshing to know what to expect from an epidural (should I ever need one - don't want to think about that). At the same time, it's equally-refreshing to hear that women CAN give birth without epidurals and that I'm not crazy for wanting a natural birth.
While I'm sold on HypnoBirthing, however, I am still pretty apprehensive about the day I give birth. First off, I don't know how my doctor will react to it. Part of me thinks that he'll mock me. The hubby and I still need to work out a birth plan so that we can discuss it with him and let him know that we want a natural birth.
Secondly, I hear that the nurses attending the births can be on the bitchy side and can get pretty darn bossy when it comes to showtime. One girl in my class said just today that she wanted to try a different birthing position (other than the standard lie-on-your-back position), and that the nurse gave her some lipservice over it. I heard of another girl who wasn't allowed to use her the breathing techniques that she'd practiced, having been told by the nurse that she was "getting in the way". I'm sure that not all nurses are like that, but it's good to be aware that some nurses ARE.
The other part of my anxiety stems from the fact that I don't know if the hubby and I can handle all this HypnoBirthing stuff on our own when it comes to showtime. Part of me would feel really comfortable having a doula around (I NEVER thought I'd ever hear myself say that), because she could tell off the hospital staff if they gave us trouble, and could walk me through my breathing exercises without me wanting to tell her off. I could totally see myself telling the hubby to go fly a kite during labor if he were to try to calm me down. The hubby could probably tell off the hospital staff if he needed to, but would he cave if a nurse or doctor said that my membrane needed to be ruptured at a certain point even if it wasn't life-threatening? Or could he tell the nurse to bugger off if she (or he) keeps trying to offer me drugs?
Fortunately, we still have some time to work this stuff out! Stay tuned!
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Measles: Near-Scare?
The hubby just called me at work to tell me that someone in his office just went to the ER under the suspicion that he or she has measles. I guess the Powers That Be at the office didn't want to name names to protect that individual from being smacked for his or her irresponsibility.
Of course, being 29 weeks pregnant, I flipped out. There's a measles outbreak in Toronto at the moment, and the main reason is that PARENTS DON'T HAVE THEIR KIDS VACCINATED!!! That totally pisses me off because it puts the general population at risk. Parents are weary of vaccinating their kids now because they think that vaccines are linked to autism. Newsflash: autism becomes apparent at around the same time as kids are of age to start getting vaccinated. There's no medical evidence linking the two!
I know that I've had my MMR (Measles-Mumps-Rubella) vaccine, but that was done over 10 years ago. Am I immune if the hubby gets sick? Did he ever get the MMR vaccine? Right now he's trying to get a hold of his mom to ask - we're still waiting to find out...
Anyway, I decided to call my doctor to be on the safe side. I was told that I *should* be okay, but suggested that I call MotherRisk just to be on the safe side. The lady at MotherRisk said that unlike Rubella (German Measles), if the mother gets sick with the measles, the baby is UNHARMED. That's at least a relief. Rubella, on the other hand, is another beast altogether. If the mother contracts Rubella, the baby can end up being born with birth defects. I know I'm fine for Rubella (I had a blood test to check up on my immunity to that before I got pregnant), so that's at least a relief. But that's neither here nor there - measles are the cause for concern right now, not Rubella.
The lady at MotherRisk also said that I should *technically* be immune to the measles because I got my MMR vaccine, but these things are never 100%. I still got sick with the whooping cough when I was 8 even though I had my DPT vaccine, so I am very painfully aware of the fact that she's right.
Still, I find this whole situation annoying. It's a total waiting game for us, and what a big pile of pooh this is. We have our HypnoBirthing class tonight, and we don't even know if we should show up...GAH!!!
Of course, being 29 weeks pregnant, I flipped out. There's a measles outbreak in Toronto at the moment, and the main reason is that PARENTS DON'T HAVE THEIR KIDS VACCINATED!!! That totally pisses me off because it puts the general population at risk. Parents are weary of vaccinating their kids now because they think that vaccines are linked to autism. Newsflash: autism becomes apparent at around the same time as kids are of age to start getting vaccinated. There's no medical evidence linking the two!
I know that I've had my MMR (Measles-Mumps-Rubella) vaccine, but that was done over 10 years ago. Am I immune if the hubby gets sick? Did he ever get the MMR vaccine? Right now he's trying to get a hold of his mom to ask - we're still waiting to find out...
Anyway, I decided to call my doctor to be on the safe side. I was told that I *should* be okay, but suggested that I call MotherRisk just to be on the safe side. The lady at MotherRisk said that unlike Rubella (German Measles), if the mother gets sick with the measles, the baby is UNHARMED. That's at least a relief. Rubella, on the other hand, is another beast altogether. If the mother contracts Rubella, the baby can end up being born with birth defects. I know I'm fine for Rubella (I had a blood test to check up on my immunity to that before I got pregnant), so that's at least a relief. But that's neither here nor there - measles are the cause for concern right now, not Rubella.
The lady at MotherRisk also said that I should *technically* be immune to the measles because I got my MMR vaccine, but these things are never 100%. I still got sick with the whooping cough when I was 8 even though I had my DPT vaccine, so I am very painfully aware of the fact that she's right.
Still, I find this whole situation annoying. It's a total waiting game for us, and what a big pile of pooh this is. We have our HypnoBirthing class tonight, and we don't even know if we should show up...GAH!!!
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Stressed
Today is one of those days where I feel completely distraught, and I can't quite put my finger on it. There's nothing really wrong per se. Work is fine. PK is kicking away (either happily or grumpily). The weather is nice. I don't seem to be blowing up like a balloon. Nothing wrong, really.
But I feel distraught. I haven't slept well for the last couple of nights. On Sunday night, I woke up at 5am and spent the next 2 hours tossing and turning until my alarm went off. Last night I woke up distraught several times, and had a weird dream where I was being attacked by snakes. Besides that, it feels like every other day my calf muscles on both legs go into spasm in the wee hours of the morning, waking me up with a jolt and leaving me limping with tight muscles the next day. Can't figure out what that's all about.
So here I am, totally distraught, unable to concentrate on my work. After giving it a bit of thought, I think I've boiled down my distress to 4 major items.
Getting a Downtown OB
I've been seeing my regular OB/GYN for my pre-natal visits, which has been good because I really like him, but he's all the way out in north-east end of the city. I don't want to be driving at least 30 minutes come delivery time to a hospital way out there, when I could deliver at a hospital that is a 10-minute walk away from my house.
I've told him since the end of my 1st trimester to get me a referral to a downtown OB, and now, 22 weeks into the pregnancy, I still don't have a downtown OB. The one to which I was being referred isn't taking any new patients, and I'm on a waiting list for 8 others who haven't gotten back to his secretary to see if they can take me. Unfortunately my due date is on August 7th, 2008 - one day before 08.08.08. Toronto has a huge Chinese community and the number 8 is super-duper lucky in their culture. This means that many Chinese couples will be either having babies on that day, be it naturally or via C-section. Guess where that leaves me? F!ed.
Kitchen Renovations
We are currently renovating our kitchen. Well, sort of. We've put in our deposit, our design is finalized, and the materials have been ordered. Unfortunately, the work won't start until mid-May, AT BEST. That's because the cabinets won't arrive until then (if everything goes well) AND that's depending on whether or not their contractors are available to start on that date. So at this point, I'm not too optimistic that the work will be done before PK is born, and that stresses me out.
Maternity Leave Plans
That's still up in the air because I haven't heard back from my manager to see if I can swing some funky creative plan at work. Plus we're on the waiting lists for a few daycares, but a waiting list is a waiting list. What if by the time I'm back at work, we don't have a daycare to which we can send PK?
Parenting
The more I think about it, the more I wonder what kind of a parent I'll be. The hubby is great with kids, but me...well, I act like I've got a giant pole up my ass when it comes to kids. Plus, as I've seen with my own life, no matter how well you plan for your life and for your kids' lives, Life always throws you a curveball to interfere with your plans. What if I end up with a freaky Goth kid? What if my kid turns out to be uninterested in school? What if my kid succumbs to peer pressure (the bad stuff like drugs and gangs)? You can only do so much, but in the end, they're the ones making the decisions, and there's nothing you can do except give advice and see things unfold.
So yeah...I guess I know why I'm distraught. I wish I'd at least resolve one of these problems in the near future so I can cross it off the list of worries. Writing about it helps a bit though, so I guess it'll do for now.
But I feel distraught. I haven't slept well for the last couple of nights. On Sunday night, I woke up at 5am and spent the next 2 hours tossing and turning until my alarm went off. Last night I woke up distraught several times, and had a weird dream where I was being attacked by snakes. Besides that, it feels like every other day my calf muscles on both legs go into spasm in the wee hours of the morning, waking me up with a jolt and leaving me limping with tight muscles the next day. Can't figure out what that's all about.
So here I am, totally distraught, unable to concentrate on my work. After giving it a bit of thought, I think I've boiled down my distress to 4 major items.
Getting a Downtown OB
I've been seeing my regular OB/GYN for my pre-natal visits, which has been good because I really like him, but he's all the way out in north-east end of the city. I don't want to be driving at least 30 minutes come delivery time to a hospital way out there, when I could deliver at a hospital that is a 10-minute walk away from my house.
I've told him since the end of my 1st trimester to get me a referral to a downtown OB, and now, 22 weeks into the pregnancy, I still don't have a downtown OB. The one to which I was being referred isn't taking any new patients, and I'm on a waiting list for 8 others who haven't gotten back to his secretary to see if they can take me. Unfortunately my due date is on August 7th, 2008 - one day before 08.08.08. Toronto has a huge Chinese community and the number 8 is super-duper lucky in their culture. This means that many Chinese couples will be either having babies on that day, be it naturally or via C-section. Guess where that leaves me? F!ed.
Kitchen Renovations
We are currently renovating our kitchen. Well, sort of. We've put in our deposit, our design is finalized, and the materials have been ordered. Unfortunately, the work won't start until mid-May, AT BEST. That's because the cabinets won't arrive until then (if everything goes well) AND that's depending on whether or not their contractors are available to start on that date. So at this point, I'm not too optimistic that the work will be done before PK is born, and that stresses me out.
Maternity Leave Plans
That's still up in the air because I haven't heard back from my manager to see if I can swing some funky creative plan at work. Plus we're on the waiting lists for a few daycares, but a waiting list is a waiting list. What if by the time I'm back at work, we don't have a daycare to which we can send PK?
Parenting
The more I think about it, the more I wonder what kind of a parent I'll be. The hubby is great with kids, but me...well, I act like I've got a giant pole up my ass when it comes to kids. Plus, as I've seen with my own life, no matter how well you plan for your life and for your kids' lives, Life always throws you a curveball to interfere with your plans. What if I end up with a freaky Goth kid? What if my kid turns out to be uninterested in school? What if my kid succumbs to peer pressure (the bad stuff like drugs and gangs)? You can only do so much, but in the end, they're the ones making the decisions, and there's nothing you can do except give advice and see things unfold.
So yeah...I guess I know why I'm distraught. I wish I'd at least resolve one of these problems in the near future so I can cross it off the list of worries. Writing about it helps a bit though, so I guess it'll do for now.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Scary Moments
What started out as an ordinary day turned into a few terrifying hours this morning. Although there's a subway station about 7 minutes from where I live, I typically like to get a 20-minute walk in each morning before hopping on the subway, so I always catch the subway a little further down the subway line. I carry a lot of crap to work, so on a typical day, I sport a gigantic hiking pack. I like it because it's top-loading, I can pack all sorts of stuff into it, and it's really comfortable to carry around, even when it's really packed. I bought it so that I could carry my lunch, change of shoes, water bottle, and whatever else I needed in there. Today was a Yoga day, so I had my change of clothes in there, and my Yoga mat.Today, the plan was no different. Unfortunately, that was not in the cards for me.
This morning, the sidewalks were pretty icy. Normally I'm pretty careful about walking on icy patches, especially now that I've got a little bunkmate. Unfortunately that didn't keep me from taking a fall today. I think it was a combination of my being distracted, along with the fact that the sidewalk looked more wet than it did icy which caught me off guard. One minute, I was walking along listening to my CBC News podcast from last night, and the next, I found myself sitting on the ground. The only saving grace about this whole thing was that I had my giant backpack on, and that cushioned my fall. After cursing under my breath, I got up, and was ready to keep walking per my usual route, but then I changed my mind. I fell right in front of the subway station near my house, so I decided to subway all the way to work.
As I made my way to the subway, I started freaking out. What had I done? I was being a horrible guardian for little PK, who must have been all shaken up and disoriented in there. I started becoming increasingly nervous as I passed a magazine stand saw all of the magazine covers with pregnant celebrities or celebrities who had just given birth. What if something had happened to PK? I don't think I could ever forgive myself for that one. I felt my face turn to stone. I rode the subway like a zombie. I wanted to cry. I wanted the hubby to be there with me. I wanted my mom to tell me that everything would be okay. PK must have sensed my worry, because she started kicking while I sat there on the subway. It was a bit re-assuring, at least, but I was still worried.
I made it into work, in a half-daze. The first thing I did was call my doctor's office to see what I should do. The receptionist said that unless I was feeling cramping or bleeding, that there was no reason to go to the ER. Easy for her to say. She wasn't the one who fell. Feeling uneasy about the "advice" from the doctor's office, I waited for the hubby to call me once he got to work. It seemed like it was taking forever. Why didn't he call? I decided to check to see if there was any bleeding or spotting. None. That was a good sign. No cramps, but I was feeling a sharp pain on the bottom left of my pregnant belly. Panic. Then the hubby called, and I broke down. I was scared. I wanted to know that everything was okay. He suggested that I go to the ER anyway, and that he'd meet me there. Poor guy - drove all the way to Mississauga, only to have to drive back down, still in rush-hour traffic.
When I got to the hospital, the adventure began. First, I couldn't find the ER and had to ask for directions. Then I found the ER, and was frightened when I saw someone sitting there on a stretcher. I scanned the room - relatively empty. Whew. I spoke to a doctor in triage (the triage nurse was busy), and he told me that I'd be better off going to the pre-natal triage upstairs, as they would have better equipment to deal with me. He took me to the staff elevators, and up I went. I got to the 7th floor and was disoriented. Where was this triage place again? Ah, found it. I went in, and talked to the triage nurse there, who proceeded to tell me that I needed to go back downstairs to admissions.
I went back down, in the meantime sending the hubby a text message to tell him where he could find me once he got here. I overshot my floor and ended up in the basement of the hospital. Crap. Back up to the main floor. After walking around a bit disoriented, I found admissions. They did my paperwork, and back up to the 7th floor I went. As I went to catch the elevator, I caught a glimpse of what appeared to be the hubby. It was. Good thing I ran into him, because that way he'd know where to go.
Back to pre-natal triage on the 7th floor. Now with the proper paperwork, the nurse took me to a room, where I told her a bit more about my fall, she hooked up a monitor to my belly, and took my blood pressure. Then we waited. And waited. And waited.
Finally, a med student walked in to take my history. He was really nice and his bedside manner was quite good. I described the fall to him. We talked about the pregnancy and how it had been moving along normally. He asked about bowel movements (how lovely), and did an abdominal exam. He poked around, and felt where PK was hanging out, and where last night's dinner had ended up. When he told me about the location of last night's dinner, I started cracking up. Not something I would've expected to hear a med student tell me in this situation. After the exam, he said he'd talk to the senior resident and staff obstetrician, and would get back to me. More waiting. And waiting. And waiting.
Finally the senior resident rolled in with the med student in tow, and with a little portable ultrasound machine. It looked a bit like a laptop. The ultrasound machine wasn't one of those fancy ones that I normally see when I go for my regular ultrasounds. I think this was used more for eyeballing things to make sure that everything was okay. She did a pretty thorough check, pointing out lips, toes, the cerebellum, the spine, the heart, kidneys, etc. I must've been at a weird angle, because everything looked like a friggin' blob to me. The hubby said he had a pretty good view and could see everything that the resident was pointing out. I'm glad one of us could! The resident was also able to confirm that PK is in fact a girl. She said that she definitely saw a labia, so now I feel less reluctant about calling PK a she. :)
At the end of the ultrasound, the resident decided to let me go home. Normally, if a pregnant woman falls, they tend to keep her around for 4 hours, monitoring for contractions and the like, but she seemd pretty confident (especially after consulting with the staff doctor) that everything was okay. So now, here I am, back at work. PK hasn't been quite as frisky as she was this morning, but I guess that was a fair bit of excitement. Still I do feel her moving every so often as I write out this blog post. I'm just glad that I went to the hospital, just to be on the safe side. And I'm grateful that the hubby was there by my side throughout the entire ordeal. It sure made things better. Knock on wood that I don't have any more scares like this one. I'll definitely be extra-extra-vigilant now when I walk outside.
This morning, the sidewalks were pretty icy. Normally I'm pretty careful about walking on icy patches, especially now that I've got a little bunkmate. Unfortunately that didn't keep me from taking a fall today. I think it was a combination of my being distracted, along with the fact that the sidewalk looked more wet than it did icy which caught me off guard. One minute, I was walking along listening to my CBC News podcast from last night, and the next, I found myself sitting on the ground. The only saving grace about this whole thing was that I had my giant backpack on, and that cushioned my fall. After cursing under my breath, I got up, and was ready to keep walking per my usual route, but then I changed my mind. I fell right in front of the subway station near my house, so I decided to subway all the way to work.
As I made my way to the subway, I started freaking out. What had I done? I was being a horrible guardian for little PK, who must have been all shaken up and disoriented in there. I started becoming increasingly nervous as I passed a magazine stand saw all of the magazine covers with pregnant celebrities or celebrities who had just given birth. What if something had happened to PK? I don't think I could ever forgive myself for that one. I felt my face turn to stone. I rode the subway like a zombie. I wanted to cry. I wanted the hubby to be there with me. I wanted my mom to tell me that everything would be okay. PK must have sensed my worry, because she started kicking while I sat there on the subway. It was a bit re-assuring, at least, but I was still worried.
I made it into work, in a half-daze. The first thing I did was call my doctor's office to see what I should do. The receptionist said that unless I was feeling cramping or bleeding, that there was no reason to go to the ER. Easy for her to say. She wasn't the one who fell. Feeling uneasy about the "advice" from the doctor's office, I waited for the hubby to call me once he got to work. It seemed like it was taking forever. Why didn't he call? I decided to check to see if there was any bleeding or spotting. None. That was a good sign. No cramps, but I was feeling a sharp pain on the bottom left of my pregnant belly. Panic. Then the hubby called, and I broke down. I was scared. I wanted to know that everything was okay. He suggested that I go to the ER anyway, and that he'd meet me there. Poor guy - drove all the way to Mississauga, only to have to drive back down, still in rush-hour traffic.
When I got to the hospital, the adventure began. First, I couldn't find the ER and had to ask for directions. Then I found the ER, and was frightened when I saw someone sitting there on a stretcher. I scanned the room - relatively empty. Whew. I spoke to a doctor in triage (the triage nurse was busy), and he told me that I'd be better off going to the pre-natal triage upstairs, as they would have better equipment to deal with me. He took me to the staff elevators, and up I went. I got to the 7th floor and was disoriented. Where was this triage place again? Ah, found it. I went in, and talked to the triage nurse there, who proceeded to tell me that I needed to go back downstairs to admissions.
I went back down, in the meantime sending the hubby a text message to tell him where he could find me once he got here. I overshot my floor and ended up in the basement of the hospital. Crap. Back up to the main floor. After walking around a bit disoriented, I found admissions. They did my paperwork, and back up to the 7th floor I went. As I went to catch the elevator, I caught a glimpse of what appeared to be the hubby. It was. Good thing I ran into him, because that way he'd know where to go.
Back to pre-natal triage on the 7th floor. Now with the proper paperwork, the nurse took me to a room, where I told her a bit more about my fall, she hooked up a monitor to my belly, and took my blood pressure. Then we waited. And waited. And waited.
Finally, a med student walked in to take my history. He was really nice and his bedside manner was quite good. I described the fall to him. We talked about the pregnancy and how it had been moving along normally. He asked about bowel movements (how lovely), and did an abdominal exam. He poked around, and felt where PK was hanging out, and where last night's dinner had ended up. When he told me about the location of last night's dinner, I started cracking up. Not something I would've expected to hear a med student tell me in this situation. After the exam, he said he'd talk to the senior resident and staff obstetrician, and would get back to me. More waiting. And waiting. And waiting.
Finally the senior resident rolled in with the med student in tow, and with a little portable ultrasound machine. It looked a bit like a laptop. The ultrasound machine wasn't one of those fancy ones that I normally see when I go for my regular ultrasounds. I think this was used more for eyeballing things to make sure that everything was okay. She did a pretty thorough check, pointing out lips, toes, the cerebellum, the spine, the heart, kidneys, etc. I must've been at a weird angle, because everything looked like a friggin' blob to me. The hubby said he had a pretty good view and could see everything that the resident was pointing out. I'm glad one of us could! The resident was also able to confirm that PK is in fact a girl. She said that she definitely saw a labia, so now I feel less reluctant about calling PK a she. :)
At the end of the ultrasound, the resident decided to let me go home. Normally, if a pregnant woman falls, they tend to keep her around for 4 hours, monitoring for contractions and the like, but she seemd pretty confident (especially after consulting with the staff doctor) that everything was okay. So now, here I am, back at work. PK hasn't been quite as frisky as she was this morning, but I guess that was a fair bit of excitement. Still I do feel her moving every so often as I write out this blog post. I'm just glad that I went to the hospital, just to be on the safe side. And I'm grateful that the hubby was there by my side throughout the entire ordeal. It sure made things better. Knock on wood that I don't have any more scares like this one. I'll definitely be extra-extra-vigilant now when I walk outside.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Kickity Kickity
As I mentioned in last week's post, PK has recently started kicking! It has been a really cool experience, so I've decided to dedicate an entire post to this. Ever since the first trimester ickiness went away, I felt like I've been in a bit of a holding pattern, since, apart from the ultrasounds and my growing belly, I haven't really had any other signs of life from my little lodger down there. I found this really disconcerting, because I had to wait at least 3 weeks between ultrasounds to make sure that PK was okay. What if something was wrong? There was no way for me to know. No kicks to count. No nausea or vomiting or fatigue. So how did I know? Then the kicking started. As I'd mentioned before, it was a little difficult at first to differentiate between kicks and gas. I think I've gotten to the point where I can finally make this distinction.
The kicks are a really odd sensation. They almost feel like someone sitting in a balloon and punching it from the inside. At least that's how I'd envision it if I were trapped in a balloon. :P One thing I've discovered is that PK has a bit of a kicking schedule. She usually goes into a kicking frenzy in the morning, usually when I get to work. She also kicks a bit at lunchtime and a bit at dinnertime (I guess she likes it when I eat). Most of the action seems to happen at night though, at 9 or 10pm. Up until recently, PK has been kicking around my lower abdomen, and usually in the same general area. This has been great because the hubby has been able to feel some of the kicks. He really seems to enjoy that. Sometimes we just sit around on the couch with his hand on my tummy when PK is most active, and just enjoy the baby's kicks. It's a really neat experience.
I also enjoy the kicking when I'm at work. It's like I have company while I'm working, so it gets a little less lonely. Sure, I like to MSN when I'm at work, but it's a different sort of company. It's Take Your Kids to Work Day, at a whole new level.
Of course, it wouldn't be me if I didn't say that this kicking thing brings along with it a whole new set of worries. I think I spent most of last Saturday a bit on edge, because I couldn't feel much PK kicking during the day, not even in the morning when she tends to be frisky. That of course freaked me out. It freaked me out even moreso because I had big-time gas, and was annoyed that the gas bubbles bursting in my abdomen were keeping me from detecting the baby kicks, or had me thinking that they were baby kicks. Then I started thinking, "What if PK didn't kick enough times today? I don't have my doctor's after-hours number. I haven't been referred to the downtown hospital yet. Why won't he refer me downtown? Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh!" I calmed myself down a bit as I felt what seemed to be PK kicks, but couldn't be sure because they weren't repeatable (usually they are).
All of this tension in my mind was somewhat relieved when the gas cleared at night (after an entire day of this nuisance). I also decided to do a nighttime workout (10pm), and PK seemed to enjoy that, because right after I was done, I got a real flurry of kicks. Whew! I know...I just can't enjoy a good thing, right?
Today PK is kicking at my cervix, which feels really odd - kind of like a reverse Kegel. It's neat to take note of how she moves around down there. Of course, for all I know, it's not a kick, and is in actual fact a punch or some combination thereof. Perhaps I have a little boxer on the way? Or maybe they are predominantly kicks, and I've got a future soccer player. It would sure make the motherland proud!
The kicks are a really odd sensation. They almost feel like someone sitting in a balloon and punching it from the inside. At least that's how I'd envision it if I were trapped in a balloon. :P One thing I've discovered is that PK has a bit of a kicking schedule. She usually goes into a kicking frenzy in the morning, usually when I get to work. She also kicks a bit at lunchtime and a bit at dinnertime (I guess she likes it when I eat). Most of the action seems to happen at night though, at 9 or 10pm. Up until recently, PK has been kicking around my lower abdomen, and usually in the same general area. This has been great because the hubby has been able to feel some of the kicks. He really seems to enjoy that. Sometimes we just sit around on the couch with his hand on my tummy when PK is most active, and just enjoy the baby's kicks. It's a really neat experience.
I also enjoy the kicking when I'm at work. It's like I have company while I'm working, so it gets a little less lonely. Sure, I like to MSN when I'm at work, but it's a different sort of company. It's Take Your Kids to Work Day, at a whole new level.
Of course, it wouldn't be me if I didn't say that this kicking thing brings along with it a whole new set of worries. I think I spent most of last Saturday a bit on edge, because I couldn't feel much PK kicking during the day, not even in the morning when she tends to be frisky. That of course freaked me out. It freaked me out even moreso because I had big-time gas, and was annoyed that the gas bubbles bursting in my abdomen were keeping me from detecting the baby kicks, or had me thinking that they were baby kicks. Then I started thinking, "What if PK didn't kick enough times today? I don't have my doctor's after-hours number. I haven't been referred to the downtown hospital yet. Why won't he refer me downtown? Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh!" I calmed myself down a bit as I felt what seemed to be PK kicks, but couldn't be sure because they weren't repeatable (usually they are).
All of this tension in my mind was somewhat relieved when the gas cleared at night (after an entire day of this nuisance). I also decided to do a nighttime workout (10pm), and PK seemed to enjoy that, because right after I was done, I got a real flurry of kicks. Whew! I know...I just can't enjoy a good thing, right?
Today PK is kicking at my cervix, which feels really odd - kind of like a reverse Kegel. It's neat to take note of how she moves around down there. Of course, for all I know, it's not a kick, and is in actual fact a punch or some combination thereof. Perhaps I have a little boxer on the way? Or maybe they are predominantly kicks, and I've got a future soccer player. It would sure make the motherland proud!
Monday, February 18, 2008
Freakout #2
I told you I'd be freaking out again! So today I was lying awake in bed at around 8:30am. With the sun rising earlier these days, I find it hard to sleep past 8am, which is really annoying since I just want to enjoy sleeping in while I still can.
I decided to flip through The Pregnancy Bible, reading the chapter on common pre-natal tests. So far, so good. Most of it was stuff that I already knew. Then I flipped to a section on common pregnancy complications. Again, most of it was stuff I already knew. Then I hit a section on Listeriosis, which is caused by a bacterium found in unpasteurized milk and cheese, and raw or undercooked food. I read on. I need to avoid unpasteurized cheeses such as brie (already knew that), and also unpasteurized goat milk products.
Hold up. Say what? Then I remembered eating a sample of goat cheese on a baguette at Whole Foods last week. Was it unpasteurized? And what about the undercooked foods? One week ago we went to dinner at The Keg and had steak. My steak was prepared medium-well. Is that considered under-cooked? Then I read that you shouldn't be eating foods that have been cooked and then refrigerated for re-heating later on. I'm guessing that this referred to consuming prepared foods at the supermarket, like those Maple Leaf fresh foods. But did this also apply to leftovers? Technically leftovers were cooked and then are refrigerated for later consumption.
Heart pounding. Freaking out. Reading on. Listeriosis is hard to detect, with symptoms appearing between 12 hours and 30 DAYS after contaminated food is eaten. It can result in miscarriage, preterm labor, newborn infections, or stillbirths. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! I couldn't take it anymore. I closed the book and woke up the hubby, who was sound asleep. The poor thing is a good sport about the whole thing. I think I owe him a nice fancy dinner out after all this is done. Anyway, I digress. He did point out that I freak out about any little medical thing - I have a terrible terrible fear of salmonella, so I obsessively wash hands after I handle eggs or chicken. He said that I should just calm down and stop worrying, because it won't do me or the baby any good. I know he's right, and I'm trying hard not to think about it, but it still freaks me out. I'm hoping to talk to the sis about it later (she's a med student) to help quell those fears. Hopefully she yells at me and tells me that I'm freaking out over nothing.
I decided to flip through The Pregnancy Bible, reading the chapter on common pre-natal tests. So far, so good. Most of it was stuff that I already knew. Then I flipped to a section on common pregnancy complications. Again, most of it was stuff I already knew. Then I hit a section on Listeriosis, which is caused by a bacterium found in unpasteurized milk and cheese, and raw or undercooked food. I read on. I need to avoid unpasteurized cheeses such as brie (already knew that), and also unpasteurized goat milk products.
Hold up. Say what? Then I remembered eating a sample of goat cheese on a baguette at Whole Foods last week. Was it unpasteurized? And what about the undercooked foods? One week ago we went to dinner at The Keg and had steak. My steak was prepared medium-well. Is that considered under-cooked? Then I read that you shouldn't be eating foods that have been cooked and then refrigerated for re-heating later on. I'm guessing that this referred to consuming prepared foods at the supermarket, like those Maple Leaf fresh foods. But did this also apply to leftovers? Technically leftovers were cooked and then are refrigerated for later consumption.
Heart pounding. Freaking out. Reading on. Listeriosis is hard to detect, with symptoms appearing between 12 hours and 30 DAYS after contaminated food is eaten. It can result in miscarriage, preterm labor, newborn infections, or stillbirths. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! I couldn't take it anymore. I closed the book and woke up the hubby, who was sound asleep. The poor thing is a good sport about the whole thing. I think I owe him a nice fancy dinner out after all this is done. Anyway, I digress. He did point out that I freak out about any little medical thing - I have a terrible terrible fear of salmonella, so I obsessively wash hands after I handle eggs or chicken. He said that I should just calm down and stop worrying, because it won't do me or the baby any good. I know he's right, and I'm trying hard not to think about it, but it still freaks me out. I'm hoping to talk to the sis about it later (she's a med student) to help quell those fears. Hopefully she yells at me and tells me that I'm freaking out over nothing.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Meltdown
Up until recently, I was proud to say that I'd had a pretty good handle on my emotions. Then I went shopping with my sister this past Saturday, and it all went to hell. It was a routine shopping trip, save for the fact that a couple of the items on my to-do list were baby-related. Item #1: I wanted to get a copy of The Pregnancy Bible, since it had been highly recommended to me by a friend. Besides, the other two books that I'd gotten a couple of months ago were a real snooze. Item #2: that same friend told me about the Bella Band, and that Motherhood Maternity carried its own knock-off version.
I guess it all started when I needed the washroom really badly. I swear my bladder must be the size of a pea at the rate that I've been going. I'd been needing to go for a while, but washrooms were nowhere nearby. We finally found a washroom near Indigo, and after using the facilities, I looked for a copy of The Pregnancy Bible. I guess this Indigo seemed to carry anything but books, so the search was a bust.
When we left the bookstore, our next stop was going to be one of the maternity stores. But as we neared the store, I just couldn't go in. I couldn't do it. At that moment, I just didn't want to be reminded of being pregnant. My sister was perplexed, and rightfully so. My behavior made no sense. One minute, I was fine, and the next, I was a wreck. I suddenly found myself fighting back tears. Usually I can keep the tears back, but not this time. They just flowed freely. What the hell was happening to me?
After I composed myself, my little breakdown started coming into focus. I guess all of my fears and anxieties had culminated into that one weird moment where I could not get a grip. I'd had a few things on my mind of late, but hadn't really expressed them to anyone. My concerns:
1. Body Image
I've said it before, and I'll say it again. This getting fat business sucks. I hate it when I pass by a store with tons of cute clothes that I know I can't wear. I know that my state right now is a rather unique and privileged state, and I should not take it for granted.
2. Work
I started a new job 6 months ago, and things are finally starting to go my way. I'm in a new role where I'm finally getting to lead a team of developers, and just as things are starting to shape up, I'll have to go on maternity leave. I am torn between my career ambitions and the welfare of my unborn child. I sometimes resent PK for the timing of things, and I hate myself for thinking these thoughts. At the same time, PK was a planned child, and when you have to plan a kid and you get pregnant, the kid has to pop out eventually.
3. Ick Factor
Overall, I've just felt a perma-ick the whole time I've been pregnant. I haven't really been able to enjoy it because I'm always feeling sick in one form or another. Again, I resent Junior for making me feel this way, but I hate myself for thinking these thoughts. Again, this was a planned pregnancy, so I guess it all comes with the territory.
4. Fear
As much as I have my moments of resenting Junior, I also have my moments of extreme fear. Even though I'm past the first trimester and my chances of miscarriage have gone down dramatically, it still freaks me out that there is still a chance! And besides my fear of miscarrying, I also have a this fear that I have a dead baby growing inside of me. I know it's completely morbid, but that's the type of thing that's always in the back of my mind. It's freaking, and I consciously try not to think about it. Sub-consciously though, is another story.
Two days after my mini-breakdown, it still feels a bit surreal. I still can't believe that I lost control in that manner, and I have a feeling that there is more to come. Hopefully at least letting it out in the open and joining a class or two will help to alleviate some of this stress.
I would like to clarify that I do not in any way regret becoming pregnant. It is something that the hubby and I wanted. I guess it's just one of those things that seems relatively easy until you try it yourself.
I guess it all started when I needed the washroom really badly. I swear my bladder must be the size of a pea at the rate that I've been going. I'd been needing to go for a while, but washrooms were nowhere nearby. We finally found a washroom near Indigo, and after using the facilities, I looked for a copy of The Pregnancy Bible. I guess this Indigo seemed to carry anything but books, so the search was a bust.
When we left the bookstore, our next stop was going to be one of the maternity stores. But as we neared the store, I just couldn't go in. I couldn't do it. At that moment, I just didn't want to be reminded of being pregnant. My sister was perplexed, and rightfully so. My behavior made no sense. One minute, I was fine, and the next, I was a wreck. I suddenly found myself fighting back tears. Usually I can keep the tears back, but not this time. They just flowed freely. What the hell was happening to me?
After I composed myself, my little breakdown started coming into focus. I guess all of my fears and anxieties had culminated into that one weird moment where I could not get a grip. I'd had a few things on my mind of late, but hadn't really expressed them to anyone. My concerns:
1. Body Image
I've said it before, and I'll say it again. This getting fat business sucks. I hate it when I pass by a store with tons of cute clothes that I know I can't wear. I know that my state right now is a rather unique and privileged state, and I should not take it for granted.
2. Work
I started a new job 6 months ago, and things are finally starting to go my way. I'm in a new role where I'm finally getting to lead a team of developers, and just as things are starting to shape up, I'll have to go on maternity leave. I am torn between my career ambitions and the welfare of my unborn child. I sometimes resent PK for the timing of things, and I hate myself for thinking these thoughts. At the same time, PK was a planned child, and when you have to plan a kid and you get pregnant, the kid has to pop out eventually.
3. Ick Factor
Overall, I've just felt a perma-ick the whole time I've been pregnant. I haven't really been able to enjoy it because I'm always feeling sick in one form or another. Again, I resent Junior for making me feel this way, but I hate myself for thinking these thoughts. Again, this was a planned pregnancy, so I guess it all comes with the territory.
4. Fear
As much as I have my moments of resenting Junior, I also have my moments of extreme fear. Even though I'm past the first trimester and my chances of miscarriage have gone down dramatically, it still freaks me out that there is still a chance! And besides my fear of miscarrying, I also have a this fear that I have a dead baby growing inside of me. I know it's completely morbid, but that's the type of thing that's always in the back of my mind. It's freaking, and I consciously try not to think about it. Sub-consciously though, is another story.
Two days after my mini-breakdown, it still feels a bit surreal. I still can't believe that I lost control in that manner, and I have a feeling that there is more to come. Hopefully at least letting it out in the open and joining a class or two will help to alleviate some of this stress.
I would like to clarify that I do not in any way regret becoming pregnant. It is something that the hubby and I wanted. I guess it's just one of those things that seems relatively easy until you try it yourself.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Feeling Self-Conscious
I feel icky today. Not icky because I'm sick (which I still am) or because of morning sickness. It seems that between Wednesday night when I got home and Tuesday morning, when I finally made it to the office after battling a nasty cough and more phlegm than I care to remember, I gained some weight. It's not a huge amount, by any means. I don't think most people can tell looking by at me that I really gained weight, much less look pregnant. I can't tell for sure if I gained a huge amount, because I've refused to weigh myself ever since I found out I was pregnant.
That being said, I can tell that there has been weight gain. It sure crept up on me over the last few days. I didn't even notice it because I was stuck at home with this cough, and I wore yoga pants and a sweatshirt the entire time. Those clothes are definitely more forgiving than work clothes.
So imagine my shock on Tuesday morning when I put on my dress shirt and realize that the buttons looked like they were about to pop off. I still can't tell if it's a result of my bigger boobs or of a growing belly (I swear it's starting to jut out!), or a little bit of both. My pants were feeling a bit tight too, though not as bad because they were stretchy cords. Today's pants, however, were a tad tight.
I know that weight gain during pregnancy is a given. I've known that for a long time. But it's one thing to know about something, and another to experience. I'm not liking this part of the experience one bit. I've worked really hard over the last 7 years to keep my body in tip-top shape. I changed my diet, and I exercise regularly.
I still eat pretty well, and I still exercise regularly. I've been able to keep arm and back tone in spite of not being able to climb or do chin-ups. My abdomen is a different story. The growing waistline is not sitting well with me. Whenever I sit I can feel the blubber of my stomach. I'm probably overreacting, but that's how it feels.
Maybe I'll feel better once I get over this cold and can sign up for pre-natal exercise classes. Maybe seeing other expectant moms will ease this feeling of ick. But for now, I guess I'll have to suck it up and find a maternity store and get me some new clothes. Sigh...
That being said, I can tell that there has been weight gain. It sure crept up on me over the last few days. I didn't even notice it because I was stuck at home with this cough, and I wore yoga pants and a sweatshirt the entire time. Those clothes are definitely more forgiving than work clothes.
So imagine my shock on Tuesday morning when I put on my dress shirt and realize that the buttons looked like they were about to pop off. I still can't tell if it's a result of my bigger boobs or of a growing belly (I swear it's starting to jut out!), or a little bit of both. My pants were feeling a bit tight too, though not as bad because they were stretchy cords. Today's pants, however, were a tad tight.
I know that weight gain during pregnancy is a given. I've known that for a long time. But it's one thing to know about something, and another to experience. I'm not liking this part of the experience one bit. I've worked really hard over the last 7 years to keep my body in tip-top shape. I changed my diet, and I exercise regularly.
I still eat pretty well, and I still exercise regularly. I've been able to keep arm and back tone in spite of not being able to climb or do chin-ups. My abdomen is a different story. The growing waistline is not sitting well with me. Whenever I sit I can feel the blubber of my stomach. I'm probably overreacting, but that's how it feels.
Maybe I'll feel better once I get over this cold and can sign up for pre-natal exercise classes. Maybe seeing other expectant moms will ease this feeling of ick. But for now, I guess I'll have to suck it up and find a maternity store and get me some new clothes. Sigh...
Monday, January 21, 2008
Nightmare
I think that every pregnant woman's worst fear is miscarriage. With the odds of miscarrying being between 20% and 30% (depending on what you read and what doctor you talk to), the odds are scary. Ever since learning that I was pregnant, I've had the fear of miscarriage lurking in the back of my mind. I've tried to keep calm over the last few months, not allowing myself to get too excited over the whole thing. I don't want to start making any long-term plans until after the first trimester.
Both my parents and my in-laws are thrilled by my pregnancy, and probably don't quite understand why I don't share in their enthusiasm. The truth is, of course I'm excited. I just don't want to get too excited. Not until the first trimester is over. To be fair, you're never out of the woods. The chances of miscarriage just diminish drastically after the first trimester. If it's gonna happen, it's usually during the first trimester. A scary thought, to say the least.
It doesn't help that I keep having these recurring dreams (nightmares, really), of miscarrying. They all pretty much end the same way. I'm in the washroom, and I'm greeted by a spot of blood (sometimes a lot, sometimes a little) on the toilet paper (sorry, TMI). In the dream I scream and cry uncontrollably. Then I slowly come to the realization that it's just a dream and snap out of it. I turn to my husband who is sound asleep beside him and nudge him awake so that he can comfort me. He turns around and wraps his arms around me and I fall fast asleep.
Both my parents and my in-laws are thrilled by my pregnancy, and probably don't quite understand why I don't share in their enthusiasm. The truth is, of course I'm excited. I just don't want to get too excited. Not until the first trimester is over. To be fair, you're never out of the woods. The chances of miscarriage just diminish drastically after the first trimester. If it's gonna happen, it's usually during the first trimester. A scary thought, to say the least.
It doesn't help that I keep having these recurring dreams (nightmares, really), of miscarrying. They all pretty much end the same way. I'm in the washroom, and I'm greeted by a spot of blood (sometimes a lot, sometimes a little) on the toilet paper (sorry, TMI). In the dream I scream and cry uncontrollably. Then I slowly come to the realization that it's just a dream and snap out of it. I turn to my husband who is sound asleep beside him and nudge him awake so that he can comfort me. He turns around and wraps his arms around me and I fall fast asleep.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Freakout #1
I labelled this Freakout #1 because I imagine that I'll be freaking out several more times before this kid actually pops out. I've tried to remain somewhat detached for the first few months of pregnancy, because of the risk of miscarriage. Of course, when I saw PK's little heart beating in the first ultrasound, things suddenly became A LOT more real. It was a "HOLY CRAP! There's a life growing inside of me!" type of moment. All of a sudden I saw my life flashing right before me, and I started to feel very old. I'm "only" 28, which is still fairly young for having kids, but all of a sudden, the thought of motherhood started making my youth slip away. All of a sudden I had the urge to swear more (yes, more than I already do), to travel the world, and to be free from authority. I guess I'm having an I'm-almost-30-and-I'm-gonna-have-a-kid crisis.
In some ways, I suppose I'd better become more mature. In other ways though, I feel that if I mature more into that maternal role, I'll suddenly lose my youth and become just another fuddy duddy. Freaky thought. Hopefully the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything will come to me by the time junior makes its world premiere.
In some ways, I suppose I'd better become more mature. In other ways though, I feel that if I mature more into that maternal role, I'll suddenly lose my youth and become just another fuddy duddy. Freaky thought. Hopefully the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything will come to me by the time junior makes its world premiere.
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