This baby. It is trouble.
First, we had a scare with his/her heart. And now, I’m sitting here writing this from my hospital bed. And I guess it’s not technically the baby’s fault—it’s my body causing the issue—but still. What is it with this pregnancy??
Let me back up a little bit.
I woke up yesterday morning, just before the alarm, and felt right away that something wasn’t quite right with my stomach. It felt upset, in the upper portion of my abdomen, right under my boobs and above my baby belly. I thought maybe it was gas pains, or maybe I was just really hungry, so I got out of bed and showered and got ready to try to get on with my day. Things just didn’t improve, though. I had a little breakfast—a small glass of juice and a small bowl of cereal—and things were no better. I dried my hair and decided to lie down on the couch for a few minutes, thinking that it would ultimately subside and I could still go to work, just late.
But then things quickly progressed to vomiting. And the stomach pain I was experiencing was constant. I couldn’t get comfortable no matter what position I was in. The pain didn’t come and go, it was neverending. I called my OB’s office, and they said they wanted to see me at 10:40 a.m. Michael took me in for the appointment and I was so miserable during it that I was curled up on the exam table in the fetal position, crying, while they checked the baby’s heartbeat. They said all was OK with the baby; I just had a nasty stomach bug. They said there was nothing I could do for it, I just had to stick it out. They said there’s a bad bug going around and that it typically lasts 24 hours.
Back home we went, and I barely got the car door open in our driveway before I was violently vomiting again. Fun times. I went back to bed, but it was awful. Stomach ache, back ache. I couldn’t get comfortable, couldn’t doze off, no matter what I did. And the pain… it was just so different than any other stomach bug I had ever experienced. I called my primary care physician in the afternoon to see if they would recommend anything differently than my OB. They referred me back to my OB since I’m pregnant. So I called the OB’s office again to tell them that I was in misery, and I spoke to someone rude who told me “The nurse practitioner told you it’s the stomach bug, right? And that you have to stick it out? That’s just what you’re going to have to do.”
Thanks, bitch.
A little while later, I heard back from the OB’s office (so apparently the bitch had still passed along my message), and they said that they don’t deal with too many GI issues, so really I should go to my PCP. I was getting tossed back and forth at this point and it sucked. So I called my PCP again to tell them this, and since it was toward the end of the day, they told me the on-call doctor would get a hold of me. It took over an hour, but I finally got a message back—they said that I should go to urgent care, or if things were very severe, the ER.
Michael had to go pick up Nora at this time, so I called my mom. We went to urgent care, and I was pretty much immediately told to go to the ER. They said they don’t like to treat pregnant patients there. AWESOME.
I arrived at the ER, and what does the guy say to me in triage? “You have to go up to L&D.”
It seemed that no one wanted me. :(
But being sent up to L&D ended up being a blessing, because I didn’t have to wait. They got me right into a triage room, and began treating me. IV fluids for dehydration, anti-nausea meds, and something for the pain. They ran blood and urine tests and came to the same conclusion as the OB’s office had that morning—it was a nasty stomach bug. I was discharged around 11 p.m. when I had been rehydrated and was feeling moderately better.
As I was walking out of the hospital with my mom, I noticed that I was starting to feel some tenderness in my lower right abdomen. This was strange, since it was completely different—and in a different area—than what I had been experiencing all day. But I brushed it off, thinking that my body was just jacked up right now, and that I just needed to get home and get back into bed.
A quick stop at the 24-hour pharmacy to get myself more pain and anti-nausea meds, and I was home by 11:30 and getting into bed. Mercifully, I fell asleep quickly.
I woke up several times over the next few hours, though, and found that with each wake-up, my pain in my lower right abdomen was feeling more and more intense. By 5:30 a.m., it was pretty excruciating. I couldn’t change positions. I couldn’t lift up my right leg without blinding pain. Instead of waiting it out three hours for my OB’s office to open again, I called the on-call doctor. She told me that it was probably just round ligament pain, aggravated by all of the vomiting I had done yesterday, but that I better get back to the hospital to get checked out just in case.
So again, I called my mom (so Michael could stay home with Nora, keeping her morning routine as normal as possible). The ride to the hospital sucked. Every bump, every movement I made—pain.
Once here, I was wheeled right up to L&D. They re-ran my bloodwork, which all came back normal. But then my doctor—who just happens to be the one here today, yay!—came to examine me and after a few quick presses on my abdomen and seeing my reaction, she said she was very concerned about appendicitis. I was sent down to radiology for an ultrasound.
Sure enough, it was confirmed that I have appendicitis. I will be having surgery this afternoon to remove my appendix. Because my uterus is already grown up to be even with my belly button (or above), they can’t do the surgery laporoscopically. Instead, they have to go in the old-fashioned way. :(
Obviously, having surgery while pregnant is not ideal. There are risks to the baby, of course. They are small, but bigger than I would like. It’s stressful. But I am trying to keep the faith that everything will turn out OK for both of us. I would appreciate any extra thoughts and prayers that you guys have to spare. I feel like I have been asking for more than my fair share lately, but… it’s scary.
Like I said… this baby. It’s trouble. :) At the very least, he/she will have a lot of stories to tell about the time he/she spent inside my belly.
When we were in California back in January, we stayed with a friend of ours, Jay. And Jay had a goldfish. Nora really liked it, and at the time, we were preparing ourselves mentally to tackle potty training. So we told Nora–when you are a big girl and go on the potty, and don’t need diapers anymore, you can get a fish of your own.
We started potty training in mid-February and haven’t looked back. Truth is that Nora picked it up very quickly, but there were still a few random accidents here and there. Now, she has graduated to the point when SHE is telling US when she has to go. And although I would never say never (I wouldn’t sit here and tell you that she’ll never have another accident), we officially declared her “potty trained” on Friday.
Michael was “between jobs” on Friday (his last day at his old job was Thursday, first day at his new job was today—Monday), and Nora’s daycare provider was off for the day, so I decided to take a vacation day, too. We had been talking up the fish for a while with Nora, but that morning, while she sat her little tush on the potty in her jammies, I told her that maybe we’d go get her fish today.
Next thing we knew, we were in a pet store, gathering all of the things we’d need for a fish. A fish bowl. Rocks for the bottom (purple, of course). A little ship to spruce up the fish’s digs. Water conditioner. Fish food.
Then, it was time. Nora happily picked out a goldfish—a $0.27 little guy (or girl), I’ll have you know—and watched as the woman scooped him up in the net and deposited him into a bag for her to take home. She waved at him in the plastic bag. “Hi Buddy!” she said.
And then I nearly died from the cuteness. Because seriously, where the heck did she learn “Hi Buddy”? She kills me.
On the way home, Nora declared that the fish’s name shall be “Bubbles.” We brought him inside and set him up in his new home. Our girl was thrilled.
And I continue to be thrilled by the opportunity to see the world through a 2-year-old’s eyes. Because it is truly the little things, people. Like a tiny, cheap goldfish that now brings a little extra joy to each of her days. She loves feeding it, and checking on it, and telling people about “Bubbles.”
Supplies for one measly goldfish = $30
Goldfish itself = $0.27
Seeing a proud 2-year-old with her potty training reward = Priceless
This week’s title is inspired by the fact that my belly is HUGE, and the fact that my company had its annual bowling tournament today. It’s one of a few fun things we do each year for team building and all that jazz. So, today, I carried a bowling ball strapped to my front while also throwing one down an alley. Or lane. Whatever.
(I actually scored really well. Not that I’m bragging or anything, because hi, I can’t really bowl. But I scored a 130 during the first game and a 104 in the second. It was definitely better than my showing last year. I guess the baby strapped to the front of me might’ve done me some good.)
There’s definitely no hiding that I’m pregnant now. I know I’ve been talking about getting bigger every week, and that this is SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN, but it’s kind of unbelievable to me. I feel like a week or two ago, I still looked like I was just carrying some extra weight around, but now there is a BABY BELLY.
It feels enormous. And although I’m undoubtedly getting bigger faster than I did last time, I was looking back at pics of my pregnancy with Nora just now, and I don’t think I’m THAT much bigger. At least not as big as I thought I was. It’s weird how much your perception of yourself can be skewed. Maybe it just looks so huge to me because I’m the one looking DOWN on it all day long. If I stand straight up, I’m not sure I can even see my feet anymore. Hmm. I’ll have to test that theory.
The other thing I’m judging myself about as I look at my pics the last few weeks? I really need a hair appointment. I haven’t had it done since October. The color is drab. The cut needs a refresh. Looks like I need to treat myself soon.
As far as the pregnancy is concerned, things continue to go well. I’ve started exercising again, I don’t have much soreness, I’m not experiencing any swelling or anything like that yet. I feel the baby move a lot, and can even see it moving from the outside if I’m lying down and being still. That’s still as cool as it gets—it’s not old, even though this is the second time I’m going through this.
The only thing that’s really a pain in my side (literally)? MY BRA. (If there are any men reading this, my apologies.) Holy crap, bras are the devil. I remember going through this with my pregnancy with Nora, too, but all I had to do was buy a bra clasp extender and things got better. This time? No. I think it’s the underwire. It’s KILLING me. I went through the trouble of trying on (which is traumatizing in and of itself) and buying new bras at the store only to get them home, try them on again, and determine that I don’t think they’re going to fix the problem. It’s got to be the underwire. Kill me now.
I think I am realizing more during this pregnancy that although there are certain aspects of pregnancy that are amazing and fun… there are definitely parts of it that aren’t. I’m not one of those women who LOVES being pregnant. I cherish it for the miracle it is, and because I know that it is only temporary, I relish in it knowing that like everything in life, it is fleeting. And although I would never say never, I am growing increasingly comfortable with the idea that I think I’m going to be good with two kids. And this one’s not even here yet, which—duh—is the part that’s actually hard. So that’s saying something!
21 weeks down, 19 weeks to go.
Michael quit his job.
Have I talked about that yet on here? I don’t think I have. He is leaving his job at a fairly sizable company to pursue a position with a friend/former coworker of his who started his own business last year. It’s a risk, but obviously a calculated one, and this will mean that Michael will reap the benefits of his own hard work—instead of just making more money for the big guys. He starts next week.
This has been coming on for a while, so we’ve been preparing. Michael will now be working from home, so he needed a designated office space. And although we have four bedrooms, one is our master, two are kids’ rooms, and one is a guest room that we don’t want to give up. So that left one suitable spot: the finished portion of our basement. We’ve been working on transforming that space for several weeks now, and I’ll share some good before/after photos when we’re finally done with it. (It still needs a fair amount of finishing touches.)
But one of the benefits of finally getting this space organized and liveable?
This guy. I’ve been wanting to get a treadmill since we moved in here. And the day finally came.
We bought it from Sears a few weeks ago. It’s a NordicTrack T5.5, and it’s niiiice. Well, I like it anyway, but I don’t need a ton of bells and whistles on my treadmill, either.
My brother and Michael went to pick it up with my brother’s truck, then the two of them hauled this big-ass thing down into the basement. It came in a pretty compact box, considering what was inside of it, but the thing weighed 200 lbs. It was also not overly simple to put together. Not hard, but time-consuming.
Anyway, it has been nice to have a good way to exercise, and in our own house. It’s much easier to motivate myself to walk down a few steps in the evenings after Nora goes to bed than it is to drive to a gym. Or go outside in the freezing ass cold. I’ve mostly just been walking (and using the incline), given my current “state,” but it feels good to be moving again. I’ve been occupying myself by watching episodes from old seasons of Grey’s Anatomy (ah, Seasons 1-3… memories!) on the iPad, utilizing our Amazon Prime membership. I find it to make things a lot more bearable than the treadmill at the gym used to be (way back in the day), especially since I am not one of those people who can read while on a treadmill.
Hopefully I can keep this up. I walked A LOT during my pregnancy with Nora—but outside, because spring ACTUALLY CAME that year—and as a result, felt like I was in pretty good shape when she was born. I want to feel like that again, and of course, would not turn down another quick labor. I don’t know if the walking contributed to that, but hey, it can’t hurt.
We’ve made it to the halfway point in this pregnancy. On one hand, that seems like it happened crazy fast, but on the other, it seems like I’ve been pregnant for an eternity already. I think the latter feelings are due to the fact that I have been pregnant all winter (found out right after Thanksgiving), and this winter has been THE.WORST. Honestly, if the weather doesn’t break and things don’t start looking like SPRING around here soon, I am afraid I might lose my mind. Seasonal depression has fully set in, and this year it is fierce.
I didn’t take a 19 weeks photo, or write a 19 weeks post! Sorry, baby. I just had a really busy week last week, and kept forgetting. By the time I remembered to actually take a photo, it was Friday, and I figured by that point I was too close to 20 weeks to bother with 19. Soooo I skipped a week. It is what it is.
I didn’t realize until after I uploaded this week’s pic that I wore the same outfit just two photos ago. WHOOPS. I think I managed to go through my entire pregnancy with Nora without wearing the same outfit twice for photos, and here I am repeating already. It just goes to show how limited my wardrobe is right now. Most of my maternity stuff is for warmer weather, not these 30-degree crappy temperatures. Have I spent enough time complaining about winter yet?
*sigh* Sorry. It’s just really that depressing to me.
It’s a miracle I even got the photo taken today, given that I am still not feeling all that well. I had some kind of bug this week, starting with nausea and a horrible headache on Monday afternoon and lasting all the way through Tuesday. I had to call in sick to work, but I toughed it out today. Thankfully, I’m better, though not 100%. Still, this was me yesterday:
…so today is an improvement, for sure.
Compared to two weeks ago, I am definitely feeling bigger again. And I’ve noticed a definite increase in the frequency of the movements that I feel. I can feel this baby jumping around in there several times a day! It seems like he/she is most active after I eat, and while I’m relaxing on the couch at night. Michael got to feel him/her for the first time this week, which is always exciting and cool.
Tonight, after dinner, Nora was dancing around in the family room and I was lying on the floor. I felt the baby moving, so I said, “Nora, come here. Your baby brother or sister is kicking in my belly.” Nora ran over and proceeded to kick me in the stomach! What a goof! She didn’t mean to hurt me, but I think she thought I was inviting her to join the baby, as if it was a game. It gave Michael and I a good laugh. Thankfully, it didn’t hurt.
My next appointment isn’t until the first week in April, so I don’t have much else that’s new to report. It’s funny how the second pregnancy is different from the first. There is so much less to do this time. No searching for daycare, or pediatricians. No hospital tours. No breastfeeding or birth classes. No baby gear to research for the sake of the gift registry. We do, of course, have to get a nursery together, but I’m not in that much of a hurry for that. We’ve been tackling other house projects lately, plus I am running low on inspiration for another gender neutral nursery. Even Pinterest has not been much help. If anyone has any ideas, send them my way! :)
About
I'm Heather. I'm 33 and have been married to Michael for seven years. Together, we have two beautiful little girls we love more than anything, and a miniature dachshund who drives us crazy. I'm a full-time working mom who has very little time for my own "stuff" these days, like home improvement, cooking/baking, cake decorating, and photography. Despite the team not making the playoffs since 1999, I'm STILL a Buffalo Bills fan, which I think speaks to my loyalty AND sense of humor. I can't wait to pick up the pace with travel again some day... you know, when we're done being ruled by tiny fists. Welcome to my blog.
