Monday, July 4, 2011

Happy Fourth of July... While most of the area is watching fireworks, I find myself sitting in the house checking the level of edema in my legs and hands for the gazillionth time today. It's just not fun to watch fireworks alone, and I wasn't sure I wanted to try to control both dogs while sitting in the car. Maybe some holiday traditions will start once the baby is born; if not, this poor child will not know about any holiday since we really don't do anything special for most of them.

So the latest in the pregnancy story are possible complications. Up to this point, we've been completely free of those. I've spent the weekend checking my blood pressure, weighing, and seeing how deep I can make dents in my legs. Thankfully, my blood pressure has been good here at home, and the swelling is better today than it's been all weekend. So I'm somewhat hopeful that the doctor will tell me tomorrow that everything's fine and to continue living as normal. But, according to my scale I'm gaining a pound a day, I'm not going to the bathroom nearly as often as I was a couple weeks ago, and we know the lab results are abnormal; just how abnormal I'm not sure. Which makes me worry that things may not be fine and the doctor might have to restrict my activity.

If you've never faced the possibility of bed rest, you might think, oh, hey cool, a chance to read all those books I never have time for! This is true, but... I face the possibility of losing my job. The inability to clean my house, at all. The inability to go grocery shopping. The inability to take the dogs for a walk. The inability to cook. The little things that we do everyday that we take for granted. Plus, when you're pregnant, laying in bed isn't all it's cracked up to be. I can't imagine having to do it for the next three months. Which is exactly how long I have left... three months today.

But, there's not a thing in the world I can do to change what the doctor says tomorrow. She'll look at the lab results, she'll look at the vitals (which will hopefully be better than last visit so I can avoid another trip to the hospital), and she'll look at me. And she'll make the best medical decision she can. And I'd be wise to follow her advice. Once again, like I realized at the beginning of my pregnancy, much of this is out of my hands. Just like I can't keep her perfectly safe, I can't wave a magic wand and make the weight gain and swelling disappear. I can't help that my urine output is not quite what it should be. All I can do is try to stay as calm as possible under the circumstances and deal with whatever is dealt me.

I just looked down at my belly and watched about 5 straight kicks... it's good to know she's happily oblivious to my little worries. That's the good thing about this possible complication; the baby stays just fine, as far as I know, until you get to the point of mom dying. Of course, they try not to get to that point so an early delivery is frequently the solution to this problem.

*shrug* I'll be glad about 12 hours from now when I have an answer. That's what I have the hardest time dealing with, the uncertainty. But I guess that's what life's all about.

Monday, June 27, 2011

I have a new thought for what hell might be like. I don't plan on ever being there, but for the descriptive purposes...
Hell is eternal pregnancy. Always pregnant and never having the baby. (And not the kind of pregnancy that causes those crazy blessed women to say "I love being pregnant!")

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

For some reason I tend to only write on this blog when I don't feel well. I guess it's because when I'm not sick, I feel guilty about sitting in front of the computer when there are so many other things that need to be done.

There's also the prego brain that means I have a hard time holding down a logical conversation, or remembering what I wanted to say for more than a minute at a time.

So for this update, I think I'll not even try to make a point, or be thoughtful or philosophical. I think I'll just write what's going on around here.

Baby Kelly seems to be doing well; she is very active and has already gone after my bladder and ribs with her feet. I feel her bumping around in there multiple times a day, so that provides some extra reassurance that she's fine even when I feel horrible. I feel huge, can't sit still for more than 15 minutes at a time, can't sit with my legs crossed or even together, can't really sit without being somewhat reclined or perched on the edge of a chair. Rolling over and getting up is also getting interesting. My back kills me, my front feels like it's going to explode, and that's without the food poisoning that seems to have set in recently. I find lower 70's hot, so how I'm going to make it through the summer I have no idea.

I'm definitely to the mental state of "holy cow, what have I done" when it comes to having a baby. I used to love seeing little babies... now I see them and get overwhelmed with the thought of "what am I going to do with something that small?" We get to meet our new niece this weekend, so we'll see how I do with a baby up close. Of course, having a major life event puts other things in perspectives, such as the bank account. When we came really close to over-drafting the checking account, I wasn't thrilled about it, but I didn't freak like I used to. If it happened, it happened, and we'd just move on. I am trying to spend less and cut out as much as possible. I keep reminding E that come October, he plans on spending lots of money on applications and we're going to be down to one income.

As for the rest of life... kids and money, what else is there? Oh yeah, I'm married... I think that now I'm making a visible effort to listen, things are much better. So when I have days where I really feel bad and get nothing done, it's not a sore point because I have been trying.

And I'm at my 15 minute sitting limit. =) Welcome to the random world of a pregnant brain.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

"Some people wait a lifetime"

I was sitting in my kitchen, surrounded by an abdominal pile of dirty dishes that I really did not feel like washing. Relatively miserable, with a sore throat, drippy nose, low-grade fever, and crampy belly from constipation... the dehydration as shown by my cracked hands and lips probably was not helping any either. I was pretty much feeling sorry for myself.

Then on the radio, Delilah (E cannot stand her, but I enjoy her show) received a call from a lady who was 11 weeks pregnant and had just seen her baby on ultrasound for the first time. And Delilah played the song "some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this."

As sappy as it is, it reminded me to enjoy the moment. I've had several people tell me to enjoy my pregnancy, that there will be days I'll look back and miss it. And I'm thinking, are you crazy? You must have been the woman who invented the "pregnancy glow" and the "I felt wonderful when I was pregnant" bull$#@! that I've heard and yet to experience. But at least one of those people I know had a difficult, morning-sickness-filled bed-rest-ridden pregnancy.

And it's true, some people do wait a lifetime and never get to experience the heartburn caused by a growing baby. Or the shortness of breath caused by a stretching uterus. Or the constipation caused by the hormones allowing the baby's life to continue. And they'd give anything to be able to have those problems.

So I poured myself another glass of water and forced myself to drink it, decided to give the dishwasher another try, and looked forward to another chance to hear the heartbeat tomorrow. Here's hoping for plenty more reminders to enjoy the moment!

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

I haven't updated in the last several months because I wasn't going to be able to be completely honest. But now that we've announced, I can finally put some thoughts down here.

Being a mommy is incredible. Seeing that dot for the first time was amazing, but a couple weeks ago when I finally saw my child's shape for the first time, watched him (default until we find out for sure, although "he" is my guess) wiggle his little arms and legs, and had the realization that the wiggling was happening right there, inside me... wow. Hearing the heart beat and letting it finally sink in that that little heart is beating inside of me. Thinking that as I lie in bed at night, the Maker of the entire universe is forming tiny kidneys, liver, brain cells, muscles, bones, teeth, fingernails... while I do nothing but sleep. While I go about my daily tasks of taking blood pressures and making referrals, this little body is growing and moving and forming.

And on one hand this puts the weight of the world on me. How am I going to support this child? Do I have the wisdom and patience to train and discipline? Do I have the energy and joy this child will require? On the other hand, I have never felt more helpless. It is less of a fear at this point, but there is still some concern for miscarriage, which I will probably have until the day I hold my child in my arms. And there is really nothing I can do about it. I can't put my hands around my growing belly and hold my child in place. I can't form his cells and DNA and keep a fatal mistake from happening. I can't form the placenta and position it correctly. I can try to eat the best I can, try to gain the proper weight, try to get adequate rest, but ultimately, the fate of my child is not in my control.

Nor will it ever be. I heard a song by Evanescence, and while I'm sure she was not thinking of a child when she sang it, that's what came to my mind. In conceiving a child, just like when you marry, you give your love to someone. And there's no guarantee it will remain. It could end too soon. It could end in tragedy or anger. You could become estranged and never speak again. You could be hurt deeper than you could ever have imagined. With every new love, a new world of possible hurt opens up. But I think anyone who's been there would say it's worth it.

Having a child also gives an entirely different perspective on healthcare than I could ever have had. Hearing the screams of a teenager in anguish over finding out she's pregnant, and knowing that child doesn't have a hope of being born healthy, if it even has a hope of being born at all since its mother wants to kill it before it even takes its first breath of air. Holding the hands of the child who's in for an evaluation of possible abuse. Carrying a tiny, malnourished child who doesn't have a home to go to that night, nor food to eat, but mom found the money for cigarettes and a six-pack. And then sitting back down at my desk, and looking at the picture of my baby. God forbid anyone ever dream that I would harm my child. Yes, it's somewhat unexpected, and definitely earlier than planned, but this child is loved. This child is wanted. This child will see in me, Lord willing and by His grace, a picture of unconditional love, self-sacrificial, willing to die. May he see in me something that will help him understand the care and love God has for him.