Friday, May 27, 2011

Graduation!

Had a wonderful last appointment with our fertility doctor, and they officially declared us graduates! (I was expecting a teeny tiny fetal graduation cap, but I was left disappointed.) Nick and I are both going to miss that doctor - the entire office is so friendy and supportive, and the doctor is incredibly sincere and earnest about his work. That must be one of the most intense jobs - your patients would constantly be going through some of the highest highs as well as lowest lows. But the doctor clearly seems so rewarded with a situation like mine - where we would have never gotten pregnant without his help, and now we're happily trucking into the 2nd trimester. I imagine you would have to throw yourself into the positive cases to be able to weather the unsuccessful ones. It makes me honestly shudder to think of the women that have gone to him and in the end not been able to conceive. The whole process was so gut wrenching, but once I got pregnant it immediately felt like a distant memory. I can't imagine going through all that to still end up without a child. Nick and I are so blessed to live in a day and age where medical technology is at a place where it can allow us to have a baby safely...

Our graduation present was an amazing last ultrasound - it really took my breath away. Our little Eggy is in there doing Zumba by the looks of things...I could not believe how much that little person is moving around in there! It is too bizarre to me that I can't feel all that movement. I mean, s/he was kicking, flipping, turning, stretching, and possibly doing some light calesthenics, and I can't feel a damn thing. How in god's name is that possible!?!? I keep waiting for the "bubbles" feeling that people have described those first movements as, but so far all my "bubbles" just end up being gas or morning sickness (big letdown there.) We got to see the little profile with her/his cute little nose and chin, and could see little fingers and toes. Again, it boggles my mind that in two short weeks we went from Gummy Bear Baby to Looks Like an Actual Human Creature Baby. It was fun to see how active Eggy is in his/her little uterine swimming pool...

In other news, I'm still varmiting on a regular basis. So that's pretty sweet I guess. The doctor promised me today that I should start having more good days than bad days soon, and if that doesn't start happening quick I'm going to burn his house down (this is all in stark contrast to that first paragraph about how much I love and appreciate him, no?)

I still don't think I've gained any weight, but I do have a little baby bump rocking up front. My skin feels very tight and I'm having some pain from ligament stretching, but I would definitely put myself in the "popped" category at this point. I've gotten a few looks from strangers, that look that says, "I'm pretty sure you might be pregnant, but there's still just enough of a question that I'm not going to say anything in fear that this encounter could turn into a horrible, awkward, and offensively painful moment for us both." I'm still praying to the stretch mark gods that I'm going to be one of those lucky ladies that gets free and clear without any stretchies. I'm slathering on the stretch mark cream like it's my life force. Get back to me in about 6 months and we'll see if the belly butter saved my preshus skins.

The best news (aside, of course, from a healthy, happy, and active two inch baby) is that it is officially summer break! Now we have three months to kick back, relax, and watch me get fat. Our 1 year wedding anniversary will be a month from now as well. Somehow I don't think I'm going to be able to squeeze into the ol' wedding dress for a little moment of reminicing...

And to finish things off, a belly picture and 11 week survey:







                                                                                   Eight Weeks....

                                                                                               
...11 weeks. A little progress!


How far along?: 11 weeks, 2 days
Weight gain?: I don't think any yet (Famous last words.)
Maternity Clothes: A few tops, but the jeans/shorts are still alive and well with the good old Belly Band. That little stretchy piece of elastic is a damned life saver I tell ya! 
Stretch Marks?: Cocoa buttering the hell outta everything made of skin on my person. So far, so safe.
Sleep?: Not bad, other than having to get up to pee a few times a night.
Food cravings?: Lemonade!! I may or may not have drank 6 quarts since last Satuday...(Please refer to the "Sleep" answer for possible ramifications of this newest craving)
Belly Button?: Perhaps a bit wider than I remember previously, but still an innie (phew.)
Gender: Neither Nick or I have any ideas as to whether we're cooking a boy or a girl Eggy. We call it "he" usually, but just because it's easier. My friends and family are split down the middle in the boy vs. girl debate. My paras went through a few of the wives tales trying to predict gender, and the overall consensus was "boy". Not sure how accurate swinging a ring over my belly is in the whole gender prediction arena, though.
What I miss the most?: Not barfing or feeling like I'm on the verge of barfing every morning. Boo you morning sickness. Boo you straight to the depths of hell.
What I'm looking forward to?: Getting through our 1st trimester safely!! Just 5 more days! :) 


Saturday, May 14, 2011

Gummy Baby

Went in on Thursday to get our 9 week ultrasound, and it was AMAZING. I was flabbergasted at how much our little Eggy changed in TWO weeks. We went from a little white blob in the midst of a black blob, to a gummy bear baby with a head, body, and little gummy bear arms and legs! (Seriously, it really does look like a gummy bear. I suppose my husband looks like a gummy bear in the right light, though, so maybe it's just taking after daddy.) We did the initial check to see Gummy Baby, and got to see its little heart pumping away. The doctor told us if we were lucky we might get to see Eggy move around for us a bit, but s/he was just floatin' around during our first check-in. After checking a few other things (including the umbilical cord - got to see the blood moving between the baby and me! Again, this stuff is friggin' amazing!) we went back to Eggy for one last look. Right before we ended the ultrasound Eggy suddenly seemed to realize s/he was on camera, and started moving around like s/he was at some sort of dance club! (I've always liked to imagine my uterus as being a hip sort of nightspot. Music, fist pumping, good drinks...You know, a place you'd want to hang out.) It was incredible how much this little thing could move - turning his/her head, wiggling its body, and doing a few full body stretches. As soon as I saw it I started crying (as did Nick, but he'd probably not be man enough to admit it to you.) It was just so special, and made it so REAL. It is such a miracle that 9 weeks ago we were looking at the same little entity as a black dot waiting to be realesed from my ovary, and now here we are watching that exact egg moving and stretching and becoming our baby. The miracle of that takes my breath away...I truly don't think you can fully appreciate it until it's happening inside of you. It blows my mind how everything just knows how/when to form, develop, and grow, and how my body just naturally responds to creating an entire human being. (Though not without side effects....SO TIRED of throwing up now. I think Gummy Bears upset my stomach. Haha - that was a little Gummy Bear Baby joke for ya'. Annnnnnd you're welcome.) Next ultrasound is in 2 weeks on May 27th (just in time for my 26th birthday!), and the doc said by that time we'll be able to see little fingers and toes. We can't wait...Mommy and Daddy love you Gummy Bear Eggy!

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Well wasn't that eventful?

So the little bitty cold I was complaining about turned into the furious monster of death cold that threatened to take out all innocent victims lying in its malestorm. Turns out when your body is hosting a wee PARASITE, a simple chest cold can ravage you like leprosy. Note to self: next time, grow a baby, not a life-force sucker.

Thursday started out well - I woke up with a pretty stuffy head and a little morning sickness just to start the morning out right, but the Dear Husband and I had an appointment with the intake counsler at the Women's Clinic, who will be taking over our care at 12 weeks. Went in and they were the nicest.people.ever. Seriously. Possibly nicer than me (I know, I know, you can't imagine it. Me neither.) Took all my medical background info (no small task), got all our insurance information set up (sadly, it will likely be costing us less to grow and produce offspring than it was to simply conceive it. Geez.), answered any questions they could, and the best part? Gave us free stuff. Does it matter that it was two hospital endorsed birthing/baby books in a generic "Women's Center" embroidered tote? No. No it does not. Because this is a girl that loves her some stuff. And even more than that? Loves her some free stuff. My mama rasied me right.

Anywho, left from there, swung by for a healthy breakfast at Micky D's, and went into work. All day at work I was feeling more and more rundown. Unfortunately, when my body calls in for a break, I have a tendency to let it go to voicemail. So I got home, and (having clearly failed to check my biological voicemail) decided to walk the dog with Nick. We get the "The Field" (where DogFace can run to her little heart's delight) which is honestly 2 blocks away from our house. And when we get there I realize, I can't make it one.more.step. Huh. So I end up sitting down smack in the middle of the sidewalk for a little rest before the 2 block trek home. Now I am a girl that prides herself in being in some durn' good shape, if I do say so myself, so that definitely puzzled me a bit. We get home (slowly), and I crash on the couch for a bit. I wake up feeling even worse and decide to haul myself upstairs to bed - going up the stairs probably takes me over 5 minutes, and then takes me 20 minutes lying in bed to catch my breath from the entire process. Ridiculous. I'm hitting my inhaler like it's my life force, but it's only working for maybe 30 minutes at a time.

Being that I've never struggled with my asthma beyond regular work-out induced episodes, I could definitely tell that this felt different. I had Nick go to my friend's house to grab a nebulizer, hoping that a treatment would do me better than just a rescue inhaler. The treatment makes me feel better, but it skyrockets my heartrate. Awesome. I ended up calling my wonderful Celia (doula) to see what I should do. She tells me to take it easy, don't use anymore Albuterol, and call if anything changes.

Two hours later. Things change. Crap. The treatment's effects have basically stopped working and I'm back to struggling to breath, but my heartrate is still in the 130's by my calculations. Around this time Celia calls me to check in on how I'm doing, and after hearing me struggle to talk since I can't breath well tells me it's time to call the doctor. Afterhours. Ack. But I don't want to be THAT PATIENT!!!!! The horror! ("Hi Doctor, I know it's 2:30 in the morning, but I noticed that I have a hangnail and wanted to know if it's safe for meh beybee if I pull it?") Well, this is all maybe a little dramatic (shocker) as it was only 9:00 at night and involved breathing vs. a hangnail, but still....I CAN'T BE THAT GIRL! So, after Celia lectured my weiney self into calling, I dialed the afterhours line with sweaty palms (seriously, I felt like I was in elementary school and calling the principal at home or something. What the hell is wrong with me!?!) Doc called back within 10 minutes and was nothing but nice on the phone. Told me I needed to thank my friend for making me call (yeah, I totally blamed calling him on her. So?) and that just from hearing me breath over the phone he could tell me I needed to go in to the ER. Annnnnnnd *cue tears*.

So in we head to our lovely local infirmary, and when we get to the front desk they slip a portable pulse ox on me since I'm complaining of breathing difficulty. I saw the nurse's face and realized that I may have slightly undercalculated my heartrate a bit, as she gave me the sideways stink eye and asked, "Does your heart feel like it's racing?" The only good thing about this is it got us right back into a room, with a gown and warm blanket. Sweet.

The doctors and nurses were wonderful (as was the male tech, who had to keep peering down my gown to fix my EKG leads that were reading improperly. I wanted to find a good way to tell him that I was 2 months pregnant and that things usually looked a little more toned up down there, but it just never felt natural. At one point he's got both hands down between the girls fixing these wires, and I look over and see Nick sending out some fierce man-glare, get yer paws off my woman, old-school western type of vibe. Awwww.) So they hit me with a breathing treatment, some 'roids, and a fresh new inhaler, and once the ol' ticker slowed down a bit, sent us on our merry way.

Honestly, it usually pisses me off having to go to the ER, but I can't remember the last time I was honest to god SCARED while I was there. It's amazing how everything changes when you have little Eggy to think about - the entire time I was so  worried about that little bugger - if I wasn't getting air was s/he okay? Is this medicine okay for her/him? What is a tachycardic heartrate doing to my little one? And will this tech PLEASE get his hands out from under my gown?! Luckily the doctor was great about my (and Nick's) concerns, and even printed us out some information about the safety of the treatments he was giving me for pregnancy. He must have been glad to see this little neurotic first time mommy waddle outta there a few hours later. (Toodles - be back in 7 months!!!) : )

So, there's the drama of late - never a dull moment in the Smoz residence. I am feeling legions better today, after staying home (mostly) from work yesterday. (The lectures I got could constitute a whole 'nother post, but we'll just leave that be for now.) Nick and I went to the "Largest Yard Sale on the Planet" today (a possible slight exaggeration, but impressive marketing ploy), which was filled with delightfully tacky goods (including, but not limited to, a desk built like a stagecoach (which, sadly, my husband did want), as well as "home grown herbs" (not what you think, I checked), and even a framed lithograph of the royal engagement picture. Between the beautiful weather, tacky wares, and interesting people watching (I had to cover Eggy's eyes a few times...The horrors that the "Largest Yard Sale" can drag out are not fit for fetal eyes.) it was a great way to spend a Satuday recouping a bit.

I possibly got sidetracked into a Carter's Outlet Store at one point and had to be physically removed by Nicholas. That place smells like danger for this little lady. Might want to get in on some stock now folks - I can predict that it'll be making some gains in this next quarter!

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

2 months

It's been a busy few weeks! Last week we had our first ultrasound and got to see our Baby Smoz (aka Eggy). It.Was.Amazing. I honestly expected to cry, but I ended up just being so blown away all I could do was lay there with my mouth hanging open like a total twerp. It is beyond bizarre that this little tadpole (c'mon, that's totally what it looks like) has taken up residence in my lady parts. We got to see a little heartbeat (and by "heartbeat" I mean flickering on the screen. It could have just been bad reception, but the doctor convinced us that this was its little ticker.) We got a few pictures, a video of the ultrasound, and orders to come back in two weeks for our 9 week ultrasound.

Nick is telling his mom about our pregnancy on Mother's Day, so that should be a special gift for her. I feel much more confident after having such a great ultrasound to start letting people know that we're knocked up. I know we still have a few more weeks till we're out of the 'danger zone', but the doctor told us he was really confident from how everything was looking up till now. Nick and I were talking about how stressful it is to be pregnant - there's so much to think about, worry about, and all you can do is pray things are developing correctly. My control freak tendencies are rearing their ugly head!

On the advice of our doctor, Nick and I had the discussion about whether we would do genetic testing on the baby. Our OB told us that we needed to decide what we would do if we had testing and found out something was wrong - because if we've already decided that we wouldn't terminate the pregnancy, there's really no reason to do the tests. Nick and I have a special insight on this subject, as we're both special ed teachers, and I teach children with profound disabilities. Both of us (like any parent) are terrified of having a baby with special needs, but I think we have an extra sense of nervousness about it because we know the hardships that it brings first hand. (Plus when you're surrounded by special ed kids all day it starts to feel like EVERY baby is born with disabilities!) My biggest fear is the reliability of the tests - none of them can give you a 100%, for sure, no lingering questions kind of diagnosis. I'm not sure I could live with ending a pregnancy, and then forever wondering if that test was right. Plus there are many of my children that weren't diagnosed until age 1,2,3 years old, so you can do all the tests in the world and that doesn't necessarily safe guard you. We don't have a history of disabilities in our family, and both of us are young and healthy, so our risk factor is very low. Knowing all of this we have decided not to do any testing, and let little Eggy grow undisturbed. I will do all I can to be as healthy as possible throughout the pregnancy, we will pray for Eggy's health and cognitive development, and then prepare to support whatever baby we are given. I know no matter what we will love the hell out of our Baby Smoz...

So remember that time I lamented the fact that I wasn't having morning sickness, and how sad, and scary, and boy I hope everything is okay? Yeah, I hate me for that. Almost exactly 12 hours after hitting "publish post" I was hugging the toilet dry heaving my little guts out, and cursing myself for putting the "I don't have morning sickness" words out into the universe. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Luckily it only seems to be happening a few times a week, and so far seems to be contained to just first thing in the morning. On the unfortunate side, it happened yesterday after I had put my make-up on, and I ended up looking like Tammy Fae Baker. Not a good way to start the morning. I also caught a lovely cold from my lovely husband, and have been hacking and coughing non-stop. I swear I might cough this poor baby out. I decided to stay home from school today, because between the pukies and the coughies I just wasn't feeling it.

It's my wonderful, handsome husband's 33rd birthday day - happy birthday Nicholas!!! He is going to be such an amazing, loving, involved, and educated father...I honestly cannot wait to see him with our baby. He's taken such great care of me through this pregnancy - he won't let me clean the house so Eggy isn't exposed to "cleaning chemicals", he rubs my back (okay, he did that before I was preggo too), and he tolerates my rare moments of hormone induced craziness. (Please note the "rare".) I am so lucky to have the husband I do, and I know our child will be lucky to have the father that Nick will be.

I'm hoping to take a belly pic of my 8 week gut this weekend - there's actually a little somethin' somethin' peaking out there. It's getting a little tricky to find clothes for work - by the end of the day I look like I'm rocking the beer gut. It's very weird to me to watch my body change like this, and I'm constantly rubbing this little pooch I've got in the making. (As Nick said, I've got a muffin top for the first time, and it's already on its way to becoming a cake top. There's a sexy image for ya.) Sometimes I forget I'm pregnant and see myself in the mirror and have that moment of, "Damn, I've let myself go." But then I remember my little Eggy and happily run back downstairs for a second ice cream sandwich.

I am trying to stay good about being active, and am still going to yoga twice a week, have done Body Combat at the gym (albeit lame, pregnant-lady combat), and am going on our nightly walks with the Sheeba dog. I'm shocked by how much harder working out is already, and how quickly I get worn out. I'm trying to be careful not to push it and listen to my body, but it does feel good to continue to stay active and keep my body in shape. Anyone who knows me knows how work-out obsessed I am, and it feels good to keep that routine going. I want to wear a big sign to the gym proclaiming my pregnancy though, because I always wonder if people are thinking why the semi-fat chick in the back is skipping the ab work out. I mean, seriously.

This Sunday is Mother's Day and I can't wait to spend it with my family. I have the best mommy in the world, and I can't wait to experience mommy-hood myself. I have incredible parents to mirror my own parenting style off of...I am a lucky, lucky lady....