Autumn with a vengeance

This week definitely feels like the start of the school year. This is true mostly because it IS, in fact, the start of my school year - I start teaching my classes Tuesday and Wednesday nights this week - and also of the Hatchling's school year, with a new ECFE class beginning tomorrow morning. But there are other signs as well:

1. The weather is doing a perfect imitation of Real Fall Weather. Autumn is my favorite season, so I'm perfectly happy with the cooler temps, only knowing Minnesota this likely means that we'll be getting snow in a week or two, to which I say GAH!

2. I suddenly have like a million things to do and places to be. This morning, for instance, I had TWO doctor's appointments. You will be happy to know that my blood pressure is right down where it needs to be, and I saw the Bubba via ultrasound and he/she actually has a face and hands and stuff now. Which is a relief, because faceless babies with no hands are nowhere NEAR as cute as the other ones.

3. While I'm still fighting the fatigue factor (alliteration!) I do feel a bit more brisk than I have for most of the summer. Maybe it's the cooler temps, maybe it's having more to do, but whatever it is, I'll take it.

4. I'm up right now at a quarter to one in the morning, finalizing my syllabi and course materials. Because I am a procrastinator of EPIC proportions. (And also I somehow had convinced myself that my new school is on the quarter system, only to realize tonight that they're on semesters, thus necessitating the revision of all my schedules. Why? Why am I so dumb?)

That's it for me. Are you all in an autumnal place, or are you still clinging to the last vestiges of summer?

Arrrrrrrgh

Man, I hate days like today. Today's badness actually started last night, when I realized that not only would I have to renege on my offer to watch J's daughter this morning, but I'd have to ask J to watch the Hatchling so I could attend an orientation meeting for my new job (that they told me about 36 hours in advance, because, you know, why would you need more notice than that?). So I started off the day feeling like a schmuck, which is nice, and then I had to drag the Hatchling to an appointment with my OB so I could get a prescription for a different nausea medicine that will maybe work better than the current one. I don't love taking the Hatchling with me to the doctor, but she was extremely well-behaved once she realized that we weren't going to HER doctor, and no one was going to try and give her a shot. Only then they took my blood pressure, as they're wont to do, and it was 218/96. No, you didn't read that wrong. TWO HUNDRED EIGHTEEN. I just ... I kind of didn't even think your blood pressure could even GO that high. I had some high BP readings while I was pregnant with the Hatchling, which they monitored pretty carefully, but never THAT high, and as the pregnancy progressed my readings got back down into the normal range and it ended up not being a problem. 218/96, however, is a problem. So my Nurse Practitioner kind of freaked out, in her very low-key and supportive way, and retook the BP, and it was 178/110. WHICH IS NOT REALLY BETTER. And I just feel like: FUCK! You know? Why can't my body just DO this? Why does pregnancy have to throw me for such a goddamn loop? I really, really, really hate this. It doesn't help that I feel like this should have been preventable, and if I were just better about exercising or had lost some weight (yes, that demon is quick to rear its ugly head) then I wouldn't have to be dealing with this. Which may or may not be true, but either way is water under the bridge and no help at all. And of course I spent the whole day stressing out about my BP, and trying to calm myself down from stressing out about it, because hello! stress just MAKES IT WORSE, and then I had a total breakdown when Mr. Squab got home, which he just LOVES, as you can imagine.

Yah. Good times. So tonight we went to the pharmacy to fill my new, expensive, oddly prohibited nausea scrip (the insurance co. only lets you get 12 pills at a time, for some unknown reason). And then we got me a home BP monitor, so I can keep track of it, and tomorrow I have to make an appointment with my internist so they can decide if I need to go on medication. (Since tonight's reading was 206/120, I'm gonna guess that chances are good that I'll be filling another scrip shortly.) ALL OF WHICH SUCKS.

I was really, really hoping that this time around would be easier. Guess that's not how my fetuses (fetii?) roll. All I can say is, they better be the EASIEST TEENAGERS EVER, or we are going to have WORDS.

Same shit, different pregnancy

Look, howsabout I just repost this? It's pretty much exactly what I'd write today, anyway. Only moreso.

Nausea update in which I swear a lot and abuse the all caps key

Nausea medicine is a Good Thing. The stuff I'm on, Reclan, while it doesn't make me feel *completely* normal, still has gotten me back to functionality, which is wonderful. I was talking to my sister about this (she has a new blog! Go read! Maybe then she will post more!) and we were trying to figure out why the hell I didn't get on medicine the last time around, and equally, why the hell it took her several months to get on the meds herself. Some of it, no doubt, is due to the diffidence on the part of OBs everywhere towards prescribing unnecessary meds in the first trimester. Which, OK. I get that. But let me be the first to tell you: this shit is NECESSARY for some of us. I think last time I wasn't clear enough about just how sick I was, because this time I basically went in and said: I'm so nauseated I can't function. Give me some meds. And I got some, easy as that. But ALSO, I Blame the Patriarchy. By which I mean, the whole screwed up culture around pregnancy and childbirth and what's "normal" and "natural" etc., etc. Both sis and I agreed that if we heard ONE MORE person tell us "oh, the sicker you are the healthier the baby is!" we were going to SPEW ALL OVER THEIR FEET. I mean, that may be true and everything, but WTF? Is that supposed to make me feel better? Like, oh, well, if it means that the baby is healthy then I don't even MIND not being able to care for my 2 year old - in fact I'd do a little dance of joy if I could, you know, get up off the couch and/or stop feeling like crawling into a corner and dying. I mean, come the hell on. And all those books and websites that wax lyrical about how "natural" all these hellish symptoms are. Again, like that's going to make you feel better. Well, let me be the first to say FUCK THAT. Lots of things are "natural" - stomach flu, the bubonic plague, and ebola come to mind - but you're not going to frown on someone for treating THOSE symptoms. As my sister said, the baby is still getting the benefit of all those hormones, but with the medicine they can have those benefits without making me feel like life is overrated. Ergo: Good Thing. Q.E.D.

However, that being said, I do have to take issue with the universe for one thing about these anti-nausea meds: almost all of them have constipation as their main side-effect. Which is funny (really, can't you hear me laughing?) because pregnancy also has that as a main side-effect, and even MORE hilariously, you know what, besides pregnancy, makes you feel nauseated? CONSTIPATION. Christ. So I've started taking a fiber pill every time I take an anti-nausea pill, and eating cereals so crammed with bran that I may start neighing and jumping fences any minute now. I'm also wearing my fancy acupressure bracelet at night instead of taking pills, just to give my system a break. This probably sounds like a lot of hassle, and indeed it is, but it's so much better being less sick, I'm willing to do whatever it takes.

However, this baby better be a damn good one.

Whew.

Sorry for the light posting lately. I've been cowering at home, positive that my ultrasound today would show a permanently deformed or even non-existent fetus. But all is well. There's a real live shrimp in there, with a tail and little arm and leg buds and a yolk sac that looks like a thought bubble over its enormous (proportionally) head. No molar pregnancy. No twins (THANK YOU, JESUS). Anxiety is momentarily abated. Also, I got a prescription for anti-nausea medication, and lovely friend L. sent me a super-duper fancy wrist accupressure band (seriously - who has nicer friends than that?), so I'm officially declaring war on the sick feeling.

In other news, the Hatchling counted to 17 yesterday, and has started - completely uncoached, mind you - saying "Soooooo niiiiiiiiiiice" whenever she sees her father take his shirt off.

All is well.

So, like, iPhones are awesome and stuff

The Hatchling and I have been enjoying our new toy all day. I downloaded a cool "bubbles" app that was expressly designed for interfering toddlers - you glide your fingers across the screen and bubbles appear, then you tap your finger to "pop" them - and so far it's a big hit. We also quite enjoy the lightsaber app. BECAUSE WE'RE GEEKS. Oh, and ALSO, I now have the entire works of Shakespeare available right from my phone, in case I should ever need to check a quote or remember a character name or whatever. IT COULD HAPPEN.

So, um, yeah. Me likey.

In other news, I made a fabulous batch of cold peanut-sesame noodles and Bubba enjoyed them greatly. With some Jamaican ginger beer to wash it all down. Today, the nausea was manageable.

That's all I got. Peace out, yo.

Make it stop

I swear, this time the nausea is worse than before. I have up days and down days, and it's worse in the mornings, but y'all: I am siiiiiiiiiiiiiick. Lawsy. Today was a bad day: I didn't even get out of my PJs until like 4:30 and all I wanted to do was lie on the sofa and moan. I kept trying to force myself to eat *something,* knowing that it would probably make me feel better, but it's hard to make yourself eat when the thought of food makes you sick. The worst of it all is feeling like such a horrible mother. I don't even want to think about how much TV we watched today. The Hatchling had to wait until Mr. Squab got home to even go outside - it's perishingly hot today and I just. Could not. Take it. I tried to play with her as much as I could; we read a bunch of stories and did some watercolors ... but I still burst into tears as soon as Mr. Squab walked in the door and sobbed on his chest about what a bad mom I am. Fucking pregnancy hormones. I HATE this. I love my daughter more than I can even express, and I will be so very happy to have another kid, but whoever is in charge of this women-suffering-through-pregnancy nonsense had better watch out because if I meet him on the street I will HUNT HIM DOWN AND KILL HIM.

Well, THAT was a colossal waste of time

Called the Apple store at 11:00 to see if they had any iPhones. Was told they had "lots" of all the different models, and to "come on down." Called Mr. Squab and told him to meet us there. Got to Mall of America and saw line in front of store. Got in line, was told I was "lucky" because I was the last one to get a phone that day. What if I need two phones? "Oh, nope, sorry, we only have seven and you're number seven." Try to understand how seven constitutes "lots," with no success. Meet Mr. Squab and tell him the deal. Try to go to food court for lunch so Hatchling can get chicken nuggets and fries, normally her all-time favorite meals. Hatchling has complete, total meltdown - the worst she's ever had, by a long shot - in the food court, working herself up to the point where she could not eat or drink. Mr. Squab and I cram our food down (did I mention that I was insanely nauseated this morning?), pack up the Hatchling's food, and carry a screaming, thrashing toddler out of the mall and back into the car. Mr. Squab goes back to work; the Hatchling and I go home, where she sits in her chair watching Sesame Street and eating her lunch like a perfectly normal child, and promptly puke in the garbage can.

Happy fucking Friday to me.

Welcome to my rollercoaster

I thought, when I was contemplating gestation the secomd time around, that it would be easier. You know, I've done it before, I have some idea of how my body responds to it, I know what to expect when I'm expecting, etc., etc. Surely, this time would be at least a LITTLE less fraught with anxiety.

Oh, what a fool I was.

Turns out, to the surprise, I'm sure, of exactly no one who knows me, that my ability to angst about something completely trumps any past experience with it. And pregnancy, which floods your brain with teh crazy ANYWAY, is, like, custom designed for me to worry about. Right now, for example, I'm convinced I'm having another molar pregnancy. (For you new readers, I had one of those before I had the Hatchling, which you can read about here.) My rationale for this belief? (Or "rationale?") Simple, really: I had some spotting earlier this week (actually pretty normal in the 1st trimester), I've been INCREDIBLY nauseated (ditto), and the universe hates me (see: teh crazy). Now, because I've had a molar pregnancy in the past, I'm actually slated to get an ultrasound when I go in for my initial doctor's visit on the 4th. I'll be 7+ weeks at that point, so they can probably detect a heartbeat and they can certainly rule out a molar pregnancy. This is good, because the nausea plus the anxiety have pretty much made me a wreck this week. Just last night I had to cancel on a dinner date with some girlfriends that I was REALLY looking forward to, because I was at a point where even thinking about food made me want to hurl. Where's the fun in that?

One thing that's been handy is the archives of this blog. I was checking some of my earliest posts to see if I was really feeling sicker than last time, and of course I wasn't - I'd just forgotten, in the way that you do forget things like how much pregnancy and labor SUCK ASS, because if you didn't forget a little the human race would have died out sometime around the lifespan of Lucy. So it's good that I catalogued it all for reference this time around; but I'm still going to be a lot happier once I can get those ultrasound results. Feh.

Weekend Recap

1. Saw Mamma Mia on Friday with BFF and BSL (best sister-in-law). Had a blast singing along to ABBA and wishing that I would EVER be as beautiful as Meryl Streep. Is it silly? Yes. Can Pierce Brosnan sing? Hell, no. But he's still damn cute, and it was a fun, popcorny, summery movie.

2. Saw The Dark Knight last night with Mr. Squab. Holy, holy, holy CRAP is that a good movie. If Heath Ledger doesn't get an Oscar nom for playing the Joker it's a crying shame.

3. The nausea, she has kicked in. I have to eat a little something every 2-3 hours, or Bubba gets cranky. How can something the size of a sesame seed get so mad? Why are my children so forceful practically from the moment of conception?

4. Also? I am tired. And now I will go to bed.

Ok, ok.

OK, here are the details, insofar as we even have any.

- We JUST found out. I had told Mr. Squab before I left for GA that I thought I might be pregs, but it was still a little early to take a test. Then, when I was down south, I mentioned to my stepmom that I was kind of thinking of getting a pregnancy test, and well: you just can't SAY something like that to my stepmom if you don't intend to follow through. So we got the test, and I took it, and it was positive, and I tried calling Mr. Squab but he wasn't by the phone, so I took a picture of the results with my phone camera and sent it to his phone. (His initial reaction: "Oh, my GOD.")

- I'm about 4-5 weeks along. Very early days; haven't even had my first doctor's appointment yet. Early enough that I'm still half-expecting to have started my period every time I go to the bathroom. (Gross, but true.) Early enough that a lot of people wouldn't even be talking about it yet. But fuck it, I'm too tired to keep that big a secret from y'all for that long. If it doesn't last, I'll blog that too.

- If everything goes as planned, we'll be welcoming baby 2.0 sometime in late March 2009.

- So far I'm just having a little nausea, but I expect that will ramp up this week to the full-blown, total food aversion I had last time, because my body is super fun like that. Expect much bitching to ensue.

- We haven't completely settled on a pre-natal name yet, but in keeping with the grand tradition of "Hoss" (the Hatchling's pre-natal name), we're leaning towards "Bubba" this time around. It has that nice, slightly hick ring to it, no?

On a Brighter Note ...

So It Begins: