I have actually never seen that film. Maybe it is good thing
Anyway. Nine and a half weeks is what I allegedly am. Nausea is at a new level which involves eating constantly whilst not feeling in the slightest hungry. If I allow my mandibles to stop chomping, however, I feel even worse. I almost dehydrated myself on Saturday by only drinking two cups of tea (at breakfast) all day and then spending most of the day outside. I wondered why I felt so ill by 8pm.
Sunday we spent gardening and apart from nearly breaking my back and getting sunburn, I was at least enough bevereged.
So, this weeks concerns:
I am not as fat for the same weeks as I was with Christopher. Don't get me wrong, I am still gaining weight. I am eating like a monster and mostly fatty foods like breads and burgers. Yummy. I am beginning to not fit into my trousers but not because of my gut, but because of my behind.
My backside is about four times its 'normal' size. This is, of course, due to the gross amount of calories I daily consume.
Which leads me to these concerns:
Am I actually pregnant? Or am I making it up? Am I experiencing one of those phantom pregnancies that women get who have been trying for a baby for years? The nausea been less than last time too and this may be because I am only faking this pregnancy and deluding myself about the morning/all day sickness.
If I am pregnant, why is my baby not growing as much as it should? Has it stopped growing? Is it malformed in some way and thus so small? Has the placenta not formed and thus my womb is mere 50% normal size?
If I am pregnant and the baby is growing, why is is not growing quickly enough? Is it abnormal or deformed in some way and thus tiny?
Oh, and I am so out of breath all the time. I don't remember that from before. Not at this stage, anyway. Last time at 8 weeks or so I was in hospital with Jonathan with his broken leg and I don't remember being physically impaired. I remember being fat, but not out of breath or anything.
I have stopped weeing every five minutes but that maybe because I have been forgetting to drink and the weather is hotter.
I am concerned.
I wish Dr Gerber had done a scan when I saw her. I wonder if she didn't because I had Christopher with me? I had a scan at seven and a half weeks with Robert and at my first visit with Isabel (10 weeks). Now I have to wait until 20th May (3 weeks) before I even know if there is a baby inside...
At least I don't have to worry aboutt quins or quads since I have no clear womb growth yet. If there were more than one in there then I would be the size of a small bungalow already. I just have the (a) is there a child worry and (b) is the child deformed worry.
I am 35 afterall. That is ancient.
Monday, 28 April 2008
Monday, 21 April 2008
The Lies Begin
Last night (Sunday) my sister rang me to share two dreams. The first was that I was having a baby.
"Are you?" she asked, excitedly.
"You make me laugh," I replied, hoping she would change the subject whilst knowing she would not until I had categorically answered one way or another, "What was your other dream?"
"That I had skury and my gums went black and my teeth fell out."
Delightful.
We talked about the craziness of dreams and I tried to divert her talking about one of Isabel's.
"So, you're not pregnant, then?" she persisted.
"No," said I. And this was a lie. I knew it and I just hoped that she would not know it, buying me instead a few more weeks of peace before I had to begin the apologising for lying section of the pregnancy.
I just don't want anyone to know until after this 13week scan. I don't know if we will get the results on the day, or if we will have to wait, but I just feel uneasy and fearful. I would rather have all the information and be able to tell people in a way that suits me and all at once. I don't want to have to announce it now, deal with the 'comments', then call people later on and say, 'you know I said such-and-such well now this is the situation...'
It's not even as if we have plans to alter the course of the pregnancy given any particular outcome, I just don't like shocks.
And then there is the hierarchy of telling people. If there is one thing I've learnt from the previous four pregnancies is that whoever you tell first, someone gets in a mood.
When I fell pregnant with our first child, we agreed to wait before we told anyone. Then at about eight weeks, Simon happened to be on the phone to his mother and excitement overwhelmed him and he told her. Then I immediately had to ring my mother and tell her. Just in case mother-in-law announced it, and so that, even though my mother would be annoyed that she was not the first to know, I could honestly say she knew on the same day as Anne. When I rang my mother, the first thing she asked was whether she was the first to know. And, of course, I could not lie and explained the situation. I don't think she forgave me for months, if indeed she ever has. Her resulting comment was, "Well, I don't want to burst your bubble or anything but it is very common for the first pregnancy to end in miscarriage." Fabulous, really encouraging.
With my second pregnancy I told her first, after my own husband, obviously, and never felt any reward for giving her that privelege.
Parents in law visit in ten days time, by which time I will be (guestimated) 10.5 weeks gone. Should they guess and ask, I will have to lie. Again. Otherwise I will have to tell my mother also, that same weekend, before the magical first scan and also tell her that she is not the first to know and that not only is she not the first to know but my mother-in-law was the first to know. It will be terrible.
At the end of the conversation with my sister last night, she re-asks, "So you're definitely not preggers then?"
"No."
"And you'd definitely tell me if you were."
"Definitely."
I am SOOOO sorry, little sis. But you of all people should know how it is.
"Are you?" she asked, excitedly.
"You make me laugh," I replied, hoping she would change the subject whilst knowing she would not until I had categorically answered one way or another, "What was your other dream?"
"That I had skury and my gums went black and my teeth fell out."
Delightful.
We talked about the craziness of dreams and I tried to divert her talking about one of Isabel's.
"So, you're not pregnant, then?" she persisted.
"No," said I. And this was a lie. I knew it and I just hoped that she would not know it, buying me instead a few more weeks of peace before I had to begin the apologising for lying section of the pregnancy.
I just don't want anyone to know until after this 13week scan. I don't know if we will get the results on the day, or if we will have to wait, but I just feel uneasy and fearful. I would rather have all the information and be able to tell people in a way that suits me and all at once. I don't want to have to announce it now, deal with the 'comments', then call people later on and say, 'you know I said such-and-such well now this is the situation...'
It's not even as if we have plans to alter the course of the pregnancy given any particular outcome, I just don't like shocks.
And then there is the hierarchy of telling people. If there is one thing I've learnt from the previous four pregnancies is that whoever you tell first, someone gets in a mood.
When I fell pregnant with our first child, we agreed to wait before we told anyone. Then at about eight weeks, Simon happened to be on the phone to his mother and excitement overwhelmed him and he told her. Then I immediately had to ring my mother and tell her. Just in case mother-in-law announced it, and so that, even though my mother would be annoyed that she was not the first to know, I could honestly say she knew on the same day as Anne. When I rang my mother, the first thing she asked was whether she was the first to know. And, of course, I could not lie and explained the situation. I don't think she forgave me for months, if indeed she ever has. Her resulting comment was, "Well, I don't want to burst your bubble or anything but it is very common for the first pregnancy to end in miscarriage." Fabulous, really encouraging.
With my second pregnancy I told her first, after my own husband, obviously, and never felt any reward for giving her that privelege.
Parents in law visit in ten days time, by which time I will be (guestimated) 10.5 weeks gone. Should they guess and ask, I will have to lie. Again. Otherwise I will have to tell my mother also, that same weekend, before the magical first scan and also tell her that she is not the first to know and that not only is she not the first to know but my mother-in-law was the first to know. It will be terrible.
At the end of the conversation with my sister last night, she re-asks, "So you're definitely not preggers then?"
"No."
"And you'd definitely tell me if you were."
"Definitely."
I am SOOOO sorry, little sis. But you of all people should know how it is.
Thursday, 17 April 2008
First Appointment Dr Gerber
So, I drive from Bible Study to Dr Gerber's office in the city, praying that I will get a parking space on the street (it is all metered parking or residents only).
I arrive, and there is one space. Right outside her office. I mean, by the consulting room window. I can only just squeeze my car in but it goes eventually, and we have to change the wheels for summer ones anyway.
The Practise has expanded and now has two ob/gyns. The consulting rooms are on the ground floor and Dr Gerber lives on the floors above with her family.
Christopher (sleeping) and I enter and find everything is EXACTLY the same as it was when I went there with Isabel, nine years ago. The only change is the nurse running the front desk is a new variety. I go through to the waiting room. The coathangers still are awfully noisy when I hang up my jacket. Classical music is still playing from invisible speakers. There is still a tiny desk and chair and colouring pencils for children to play with.
After a few minutes the nurse comes back and asks me some questions about LMP etc then she takes me behind her desk for my bloodpressure (121/77) and two vials of blood. She also weighs me (64Kg- giant and revolting and you know it's only gonna get worse). I just notice they have a new autoclave machine and a new coffee machine. Such frivilous spending.
Later still, I sit with Dr Gerber (who also looks exactly the same, just marginally greyer hair). She is still quietly spoken and allows lots of room for you to talk. (Which makes me feel like I should keep on talking as I clearly have a fear of silence.) She is smily and pleasant. She remembers me from before, good but weird, why does me remember me, was I ridiculous or stupid in some way?
I tell her about my mediation fears and she speaks gently and soothingly, saying, 'I can see you are very anxious, how it is bothering you.'
She looks up these medications in her special magic book and asks me the quantities I took and the dates of digestion. And she reassures me. All is OK.
Stupid internet sites, scaremongering. Lucky I am so level headed.
She says that these warnings are for people who take these medications for a long period of time, for chronic pain. She adds the usual caveat that no studies have been done on such things (who would do a drug study on a pregnant population?) but experience tells us they do not appear to be tetragenic.
She takes some notes on my previous pregnancies and births (clearly sad to have missed them) and nine hours later I leave the consulting room with her. We go back to Myriam the nurse who took my blood and make an appointment for 20th May when I will be 13weeks (we think). I will have a first trimester Downs Syndrome test which involves the nuchal translucency examination, blood tests for hCG and PAPP-A level. This should give me a probability for this pregnancy. I forgot to ask her if she will do AFP at 16weeks like she used to, to test for NTD as well or whether they don't do that now.
Told Simon straight away in case he would like to komm mit (he would). He is supposed to be in the US for a meeting the following day so whether or not he will come remains to be seen. Timing, ha ha.
So, reassured for the moment, but am sure I will think of something to worry about soon.
I arrive, and there is one space. Right outside her office. I mean, by the consulting room window. I can only just squeeze my car in but it goes eventually, and we have to change the wheels for summer ones anyway.
The Practise has expanded and now has two ob/gyns. The consulting rooms are on the ground floor and Dr Gerber lives on the floors above with her family.
Christopher (sleeping) and I enter and find everything is EXACTLY the same as it was when I went there with Isabel, nine years ago. The only change is the nurse running the front desk is a new variety. I go through to the waiting room. The coathangers still are awfully noisy when I hang up my jacket. Classical music is still playing from invisible speakers. There is still a tiny desk and chair and colouring pencils for children to play with.
After a few minutes the nurse comes back and asks me some questions about LMP etc then she takes me behind her desk for my bloodpressure (121/77) and two vials of blood. She also weighs me (64Kg- giant and revolting and you know it's only gonna get worse). I just notice they have a new autoclave machine and a new coffee machine. Such frivilous spending.
Later still, I sit with Dr Gerber (who also looks exactly the same, just marginally greyer hair). She is still quietly spoken and allows lots of room for you to talk. (Which makes me feel like I should keep on talking as I clearly have a fear of silence.) She is smily and pleasant. She remembers me from before, good but weird, why does me remember me, was I ridiculous or stupid in some way?
I tell her about my mediation fears and she speaks gently and soothingly, saying, 'I can see you are very anxious, how it is bothering you.'
She looks up these medications in her special magic book and asks me the quantities I took and the dates of digestion. And she reassures me. All is OK.
Stupid internet sites, scaremongering. Lucky I am so level headed.
She says that these warnings are for people who take these medications for a long period of time, for chronic pain. She adds the usual caveat that no studies have been done on such things (who would do a drug study on a pregnant population?) but experience tells us they do not appear to be tetragenic.
She takes some notes on my previous pregnancies and births (clearly sad to have missed them) and nine hours later I leave the consulting room with her. We go back to Myriam the nurse who took my blood and make an appointment for 20th May when I will be 13weeks (we think). I will have a first trimester Downs Syndrome test which involves the nuchal translucency examination, blood tests for hCG and PAPP-A level. This should give me a probability for this pregnancy. I forgot to ask her if she will do AFP at 16weeks like she used to, to test for NTD as well or whether they don't do that now.
Told Simon straight away in case he would like to komm mit (he would). He is supposed to be in the US for a meeting the following day so whether or not he will come remains to be seen. Timing, ha ha.
So, reassured for the moment, but am sure I will think of something to worry about soon.
OK, now I have a reason
Didn't know what to do about this blog and felt guilty that it was sitting here doing nothing, gathering e-dust. Now I know what to do!
Two weeks ago I discovered I was pregnant. Usual signs and markers, went to Apotheke and purchased the obligatory ClearBlue, followed the (German) instructions and hey presto!
Two weeks ago I discovered I was pregnant. Usual signs and markers, went to Apotheke and purchased the obligatory ClearBlue, followed the (German) instructions and hey presto!
Simon was thrilled and I was worried. What would people think? What would people say? What if it is quads? What if I have to have a caesarian? What if there is something wrong with the baby (given my her-you-je maternal age)? What were we thinking?
When Simon returned from his trip (he was away, hence the jpeg of the pregnancy test as I emailed him with the information), he joked, 'So do we have to move or just build an extension?'
This is no joking matter. At the time I was 6-7 weeks gestation and already planning Christopher's bedroom layout in the event on a septuplet birth scenario. I had paper plans and tiny cutout cots and cotbeds, it was a nightmare shuffling it all around my scale bedroom model everytime I breathed out.
But, what is done, is done and cannot be undone, and we are pleased and so Boo Sucks to the world. Or something less agressive.
No sooner had I put to rest my irrational fears, in the comfort of knowing 'it will all come out in the wash'. (Where did that expression come from, by the way, as it is patently not true, especially for banana.) Then I remembered. My fever. The 39.4 degree celsius fever that overtook me and lasted for four days. My self-medicating regime with Nurofen. Agggh. Babies, even fetuses, are not supposed to be hot. Babies in-utero are not supposed to be tanked up with ibuprofen. Agggh, again. Then I remembered the terrible strained muscle in my thigh and the heavy duty NSAIDs that I had taken for that blessing. More trouble.
Obviously, an immediate internet search was in order and in no time at all I turned up multiple papers about the dangers of NSAIDs to a developing fetus/embryo in the first few weeks of its life. Marvellous. I also found research about fevers being OK (hurrah), provided that they are not above 39 degrees (boo).
Panic set in.
I knew I had to call my obstestrician for an appointment anyhow but could not bring myself to. After about four days I plucked up courage only to hear the answerphone say they were closed for the afternoon. Managed to keep forgetting for another week.
Yesterday I drove to her office after taking the children to school. Just thought I would check out the location and the parking situation. That done, I went home and rang the office. They wanted me to come on Friday. I apologised that Friday was not a good day for me (Tumble dryer fixer man coming, at last); assumed that they would reschedule for the following week.
'What about tomorrow?' she asked, '11:45am?'
So, there it was. Apppointment booked.
Only the nausea, shortness of breath and cold fear to cope with now then.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)