I went through the first few weeks blissfully imagining that since my mother had managed to have minimal nausea during her pregnancies that I would too. I was so wrong. It started out very minor at exactly 6 weeks and 2 days. At first, I just felt a little out of sorts. I was relaxing on the couch, trying to figure out what was wrong with myself when my sweet husband came in bearing a snack--melted cheese on pickles.
I pretty much shrieked and covered my nose, the vinegar and melted cheddar smell was too much to bear and my stomach lurched at the sight. I pleaded with him to get it away from me. Poor Garrett had no idea why.
No biggie, I'd read about this, it is just part of my body's response to having low blood sugar. I would just eat my way out of it. I armed myself with crackers next to the bed and continued on as normal, taking my prenatal vitamin at some point in the late morning. That weekend I went out to the coast with some very gracious friends of ours. I carried saltines in my coat when we walked around, and I found myself stuffing three or four in my mouth every time a wave of nausea passed over me. We went out to dinner on Saturday night (I was supposed to bring a meatloaf, but I couldn't bring myself to cook on Friday), and I saved half of my hamburger. At 6am on Sunday I scarfed the thing with gusto and went on to have a decent, normal, quasi low queasiness day.
On Sunday night it came on pretty bad. I took my prenatal vitamin late that night and ate three sandwiches to try to fight the feeling in me. Eventually I gave up and went to bed.
The next morning, at about 4am, I awoke with a stomach cramp, crammed four crackers in my mouth and chewed as fast as possible. A minute or two later I sat up, and that bit of movement sent projectile cracker pieces over the floor. Garrett, who is way too good for me, cleaned me up and comforted me. He is, I'm pretty sure, the best man in the world. I was so very whiny. That entire day was a battle with keeping food and liquid down that went like this: eat/drink something, try to keep it down for an hour, make the mistake of getting off the couch to go to the bathroom, throw it up.
How We Coped
By the next morning we had changed our attack. Garrett found the one prenatal vitamin sample that didn't contain zinc or require food with it--a prescription vitamin called PreNexa. It is also higher in vitamin B6 than the others, a huge plus since we had read that low B6 levels in the body can precipitate nausea. I changed out my saltines for a giant tub of peanut butter and a spoon, since peanut butter has lots of protein and a high calorie density. I generally keep that next to my bed and eat a hefty tablespoonful as soon as my eyes open in the morning, then I take my prenatal vitamin right after. I also had my doctor call in a prescription for Metoclopramide, which I reserved to take only if I vomited again. So far, I haven't had to take it yet.
On Tuesday I was keeping down food, on Wednesday I was doing much better, and by Thursday my nausea had been replaced by a head cold. I figure all that puking lowered my immune defenses. The nausea stayed away all weekend and only came back a little on Monday and Tuesday following. Those days it was mostly related to motion: take a few steps, gag, take a few more steps, gag. So while I didn't vomit and was able to eat healthily on those two days, I must admit that I didn't move around much at all. Now that too seems to be better. I eat lots of snacks-we got a box of Cutie clementines at Costco and I've made a huge dent in them. Little packaged string cheeses are great, as are individual yogurt cups. Citrus smells great, so sometimes I save the skin from my last Cutie and breathe through it.
Random superstition: I figure that all this nausea probably means we're having a boy, a ridiculous conclusion I came to after a friend of mine told me her nausea was much worse during her second pregnancy, when she was pregnant with her only son. I have zero medical reason to believe this, I just do.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Fascination, Fear, and Fecundity
Fast forward a bit, and now I am 8 weeks and 1 day pregnant. I am due on September 29, 2009, as calculated by the free online widget you can find in the links section, where there is also a link to a calendar of my pregnancy. Just yesterday I had my second ultrasound, in which we were able to hear the baby's heartbeat. My husband and I both teared up a little as we listened to the strong, rhythmic pumping. The heartbeat is very fast but steady, a startling 146 beats per minute. I was surprised by how much of the baby was visible. You could easily make out the head and little limbs from on the monitor. It was so beautiful.
Once, not too long ago, I knew, rationally, that pregnancy and parenthood are nothing new, that anybody can reproduce, that it is nothing special in the grand scheme of things, that it is just biology and population growth. I now believe I was wrong. I now know that, personally, it is so much more than that.
I feel like my husband and I have just found ourselves saddled with the most important job in the world. I feel like nothing carries more weight than the welfare of this child, as though any demonstration of responsibility or personal growth before now was just practice, like this is the real thing--what life was all about from the beginning. It is at once awe inspiring and absolutely terrifying.
These revelations are part of the mental symptoms of my pregnancy, and of course every pregnancy is different. There are plenty of physical symptoms as well. For instance, I had mild abdominal pain, which was for me, mainly on the right hand side. I did a little poking around on the internet to see what was 'normal' and eventually determined that such lopsided pain could be an early symptom of ectopic pregnancy, wherein the zygote implants outside the uterus, usually in a fallopian tube. I really worked myself up over this, finding out that ectopic pregnancies can lead to massive internal bleeding, always end in the death of the fetus, sometimes in the death of the mother, usually require surgical removal, and indicate a potential for future fertility problems.
So the first call that my OB's office received from me was a plea to have an ultrasound as soon as possible to rule out an ectopic pregnancy. I had not met my obstetrician nor had my intake appointment. I really tried to be composed, but I'm sure they heard the frantic tone in my voice. As it turned out, at just over 5 weeks, there it was, hanging out in utero just where it was supposed to be. At that time there was nothing to see but the gestational sac, which looked empty and black on the monitor. They did see that my right ovary was larger than my left, and there was a black spot, presumably indicative of recent ovulation. Now, three weeks later, I still feel an occasional twinge on that side and the large black spot was on the more recent ultrasound.
A short time later we had our first appointment, deemed the 'nurse intake appointment,' where a very young nurse gave us a brief summary of what to expect. I was a bit disappointed to find out that most of the doctors whose bios had influenced me to choose this clinic were not available for delivery at the hospital near me, even though they are all listed as staff. It felt a little bit like bait and switch. My OB's are with the Women's Clinic of Vancouver, WA, a group practice, and the hospital is the Family Birthing Center at Southwest Washington Medical Center. A link to their websites is available on the link page. We left there with scads of prenatal vitamin samples, some baby formula advertising, heads swimming with information, and some very scary decisions to make regarding genetic testing, which I'll go into another day. At that point I was happy and relatively symptom free, apart from the abdominal cramps. That changes. Every day is different.
Once, not too long ago, I knew, rationally, that pregnancy and parenthood are nothing new, that anybody can reproduce, that it is nothing special in the grand scheme of things, that it is just biology and population growth. I now believe I was wrong. I now know that, personally, it is so much more than that.
I feel like my husband and I have just found ourselves saddled with the most important job in the world. I feel like nothing carries more weight than the welfare of this child, as though any demonstration of responsibility or personal growth before now was just practice, like this is the real thing--what life was all about from the beginning. It is at once awe inspiring and absolutely terrifying.
These revelations are part of the mental symptoms of my pregnancy, and of course every pregnancy is different. There are plenty of physical symptoms as well. For instance, I had mild abdominal pain, which was for me, mainly on the right hand side. I did a little poking around on the internet to see what was 'normal' and eventually determined that such lopsided pain could be an early symptom of ectopic pregnancy, wherein the zygote implants outside the uterus, usually in a fallopian tube. I really worked myself up over this, finding out that ectopic pregnancies can lead to massive internal bleeding, always end in the death of the fetus, sometimes in the death of the mother, usually require surgical removal, and indicate a potential for future fertility problems.
So the first call that my OB's office received from me was a plea to have an ultrasound as soon as possible to rule out an ectopic pregnancy. I had not met my obstetrician nor had my intake appointment. I really tried to be composed, but I'm sure they heard the frantic tone in my voice. As it turned out, at just over 5 weeks, there it was, hanging out in utero just where it was supposed to be. At that time there was nothing to see but the gestational sac, which looked empty and black on the monitor. They did see that my right ovary was larger than my left, and there was a black spot, presumably indicative of recent ovulation. Now, three weeks later, I still feel an occasional twinge on that side and the large black spot was on the more recent ultrasound.
A short time later we had our first appointment, deemed the 'nurse intake appointment,' where a very young nurse gave us a brief summary of what to expect. I was a bit disappointed to find out that most of the doctors whose bios had influenced me to choose this clinic were not available for delivery at the hospital near me, even though they are all listed as staff. It felt a little bit like bait and switch. My OB's are with the Women's Clinic of Vancouver, WA, a group practice, and the hospital is the Family Birthing Center at Southwest Washington Medical Center. A link to their websites is available on the link page. We left there with scads of prenatal vitamin samples, some baby formula advertising, heads swimming with information, and some very scary decisions to make regarding genetic testing, which I'll go into another day. At that point I was happy and relatively symptom free, apart from the abdominal cramps. That changes. Every day is different.
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