It's a whole new era. I still get kind of nauseous, but instead of twice a day, it's more likely once every other day. I'm still exhausted, but I can pull myself out of it for a few hours. My body is moving well into the second trimester and some of my daily tribulations are disappearing.
The Glow
I think I got my glow on. At least Jill said so. I spent yesterday (my first of two days off after my job transition) like this: prenatal care appointment with listening check to Little's heartbeat, stop in to my new job to say hello, go on a mega shopping spree that yields a whole new maternity wardrobe, and a haircut and cute 'do to boot. I felt like a million bucks, and I let myself look like it.
I'm finally showing enough that it's a bit more detectable that I'm not just oddly potbellied. And there are outfits out there that can help. I went in to the maternity clothing shop asking to be directed to outfits that would hide my growing belly, but left with outfits that showed it off. And, hey, the bigger the belly and breasts, the smaller the arms and face look. Everything is relative, and I'm feeling like the current proportions are working in my favor! I started making eyes at my hubby again this week! I'm not feeling like a weird sick blob so much anymore. And with the baby photo to take on the road documenting my baby's cuteness, I can't help but feel like I've got to be kinda cute myself.
The Feel
Apparently, I might be able to feel my baby on the inside for the first time in about two weeks. My co-worker said she first felt it when she propped up her legs on her desk and suddenly a little "fish swim through her." Whoa! Swimming Little! I can't wait until I feel all of it. I'm entering that exciting time when Little will reveal more of him/herself--the movements will be detectable, the sex could be discovered, and Little will more decidedly claim my womb as his home (at least as far as I'll be able to tell).
It's an exciting time and the next 7 or so weeks will usher me and Little and my husband into new relationships, new knowing, and an ultra new realm. I'm diggin' it.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Vulnerable to the World
Carrying a fetus that is so vulnerable to the compounds and traumas of the world requires great care and caution on my part. I've had many moments in the past few months where I'm more thoughtful than ever about the chemicals I put on my body, foods and materials I put into my mouth (ever ate a meal with a plastic fork where you tried to touch the fork as little as possible?), and the gases in the air. Since Little is so little, and so early in his/her development, these environmental toxins and dangers can have a great effect on his/her wellbeing...for a long time to come. It's like the effect of lead on children--neurological development is happening so the impacts of lead poisoning are even more harmful than they are on adults. Exposure to secondhand smoke is the same--physical development is ongoing and children breathe more than adults do so they are even more vulnerable.
In any case, there was a huge factory fire just a couple blocks from my home on my street this week. The fire raged for days, and summoned firefighters from all of the city's stations. It was a real 7-alarm kicker. I went outside out of curiosity to see the action, but retreated after just a few minutes to minimize my exposure. I couldn't help but stare though at all of my neighbors who carted their infants and toddlers out to watch the flames burn. I was worried about the fear this might cause them, but even more so about the kind of damage they might sustain, temporary or long-term, from inhaling the smoke and all of the associated chemicals flying into the air from the burning insides of the factory.
I also had a great, sad scare a few days ago. The morning after the fire, I rode my bike to work with Lauren. We parted at 4th and Arch toward our respective offices. As I turned down Spruce Street, I was thrilled to see that it had been re-paved but unhappy to notice that the lanes (including the bike lane) had not been repainted. Well, I had reason to worry. A few blocks later, a car made a last minute turn right in front of my bike (no turn signal of course). I tried to squeeze the brakes but toppled over on my bike regardless. The car didn't stop. No surprise. When I'm biking, all cars are the enemy. I wasn't seriously hurt, just scraped up and sore ankles. But I was more mentally harmed. I got so scared. When I was moving through the air off of the bike, I tried to quickly think about how I could fall to minimize harm to the baby. I kept my abdomen pulled in and thrust out my hands and feet first. When I got up, I just cried. I pushed my bike into the street and weeped. Several people saw it, and two of them stopped to ask if I was okay. I was fine, just sad and scared. A woman pulled my bike out of the street and put it next to me. I just stood there on the sidewalk and cried. I felt so sad that I made Little so vulnerable, and so angry that a driver would perpetrate it all. One of the onlookers was a mother with a stroller packed with two young children. She's the only person I made eye contact with--like she might understand why I'd cry after what was, overall, a minor fall with no real physical harm. Anyway, I weeped my way to work. It was all very scary. I know everyone will expect me to not ride anymore during my pregnancy, but I'm still undetermined. Riding my bike to work is an important part of my exercise routine and it makes the day feel much better. But now it will be more scary, and Little is so vulnerable to the world.
In any case, there was a huge factory fire just a couple blocks from my home on my street this week. The fire raged for days, and summoned firefighters from all of the city's stations. It was a real 7-alarm kicker. I went outside out of curiosity to see the action, but retreated after just a few minutes to minimize my exposure. I couldn't help but stare though at all of my neighbors who carted their infants and toddlers out to watch the flames burn. I was worried about the fear this might cause them, but even more so about the kind of damage they might sustain, temporary or long-term, from inhaling the smoke and all of the associated chemicals flying into the air from the burning insides of the factory.
I also had a great, sad scare a few days ago. The morning after the fire, I rode my bike to work with Lauren. We parted at 4th and Arch toward our respective offices. As I turned down Spruce Street, I was thrilled to see that it had been re-paved but unhappy to notice that the lanes (including the bike lane) had not been repainted. Well, I had reason to worry. A few blocks later, a car made a last minute turn right in front of my bike (no turn signal of course). I tried to squeeze the brakes but toppled over on my bike regardless. The car didn't stop. No surprise. When I'm biking, all cars are the enemy. I wasn't seriously hurt, just scraped up and sore ankles. But I was more mentally harmed. I got so scared. When I was moving through the air off of the bike, I tried to quickly think about how I could fall to minimize harm to the baby. I kept my abdomen pulled in and thrust out my hands and feet first. When I got up, I just cried. I pushed my bike into the street and weeped. Several people saw it, and two of them stopped to ask if I was okay. I was fine, just sad and scared. A woman pulled my bike out of the street and put it next to me. I just stood there on the sidewalk and cried. I felt so sad that I made Little so vulnerable, and so angry that a driver would perpetrate it all. One of the onlookers was a mother with a stroller packed with two young children. She's the only person I made eye contact with--like she might understand why I'd cry after what was, overall, a minor fall with no real physical harm. Anyway, I weeped my way to work. It was all very scary. I know everyone will expect me to not ride anymore during my pregnancy, but I'm still undetermined. Riding my bike to work is an important part of my exercise routine and it makes the day feel much better. But now it will be more scary, and Little is so vulnerable to the world.
First Ultrasound
A couple weeks ago, my husband and I went to the prenatal diagnostic unit to receive genetic counseling and complete the first ultrasound. Little's first photo!
I was instructed to start drinking about 32 ounces of water an hour before so that my bladder would be full during the ultrasound. This apparently ensures that the difference between the bladder and uterus can be detected--why this is necessary if there's a fetus in one and not the other is unclear to me but we'd have to go to my sonographer pal Heather to know. What I was not told was that prior to any ultrasound, my husband and I would first undergo about 45 minutes of genetic counseling. Alas, I showed up with a full bladder and no screen to show it off on. About 4 of my 5 questions to the genetic counselor were: can I go pee now? Besides all of that, an unexpected complication caused an hour delay so I didn't actually go into the ultrasound room until about 2 hours after my assigned arrival time, which meant that I refilled and emptied my bladder about four times, in debilitating abdominal pain through the whole thing. I also learned that too much water causes nausea. I wanted to just lay down and sleep for days, or vomit a couple times before doing so.
The genetic counseling conversation was interesting. We primarily discussed family history, the likelihood of several conditions, including down's syndrome, trisomy 18, taysach's disease, spina bifida, and cystic fibrosis, and, at my request, we looked at the inherited Deafness in my family. The counselor said that the pattern of Deafness in my family going back to my great grandparents indicated that there were likely both dominant and recessive genes for Deafness in my family. This was an exciting and interesting discovery. She said that she assumed that I carried only the recessive version based on the fact that me, my brother, and my cousins are hearing; however, there's always a possibility that I'm a carrier of the dominant version. She couldn't give me any predictive probability, but even just what I learned was very interesting. Having a more precise probability figure would be possible if my Mom and my Aunt had their blood looked at for the genetic information--this is absolutely not necessary but it was even interesting to learn how this kind of genetic info could be gathered in my family. This conversation yielded yet another piece of my family history--genetic history--which I'm so happy to now know.
Then we proceeded to the ultrasound. Oh Little! He/She was very mobile, but also very well behaved. The sonographer said that Little was one of the most cooperative fetuses she's ever worked with. I'm already proud! At the very end, Little threw his hands and feet in the air, scrunched his tiny face, and then punctuated the whole thing with a flip to face downward. Then, just like his mother might do, he turned his backside to the camera to show off his bum.
The photo we brought home was truly amazing. I promise to post the ultrasound image as soon as we scan it. A remarkably clear shot of his/her face. Cute pouty lips and a perfectly button nose. One might look and suspect that Little is a girl--it's such a feminine pose--but I remind you that Little's daddy is Argentine and Italian. The Euro man face is charmingly sex-neutral. I'd venture to say that Little is gonna be a looker!
I was instructed to start drinking about 32 ounces of water an hour before so that my bladder would be full during the ultrasound. This apparently ensures that the difference between the bladder and uterus can be detected--why this is necessary if there's a fetus in one and not the other is unclear to me but we'd have to go to my sonographer pal Heather to know. What I was not told was that prior to any ultrasound, my husband and I would first undergo about 45 minutes of genetic counseling. Alas, I showed up with a full bladder and no screen to show it off on. About 4 of my 5 questions to the genetic counselor were: can I go pee now? Besides all of that, an unexpected complication caused an hour delay so I didn't actually go into the ultrasound room until about 2 hours after my assigned arrival time, which meant that I refilled and emptied my bladder about four times, in debilitating abdominal pain through the whole thing. I also learned that too much water causes nausea. I wanted to just lay down and sleep for days, or vomit a couple times before doing so.
The genetic counseling conversation was interesting. We primarily discussed family history, the likelihood of several conditions, including down's syndrome, trisomy 18, taysach's disease, spina bifida, and cystic fibrosis, and, at my request, we looked at the inherited Deafness in my family. The counselor said that the pattern of Deafness in my family going back to my great grandparents indicated that there were likely both dominant and recessive genes for Deafness in my family. This was an exciting and interesting discovery. She said that she assumed that I carried only the recessive version based on the fact that me, my brother, and my cousins are hearing; however, there's always a possibility that I'm a carrier of the dominant version. She couldn't give me any predictive probability, but even just what I learned was very interesting. Having a more precise probability figure would be possible if my Mom and my Aunt had their blood looked at for the genetic information--this is absolutely not necessary but it was even interesting to learn how this kind of genetic info could be gathered in my family. This conversation yielded yet another piece of my family history--genetic history--which I'm so happy to now know.
Then we proceeded to the ultrasound. Oh Little! He/She was very mobile, but also very well behaved. The sonographer said that Little was one of the most cooperative fetuses she's ever worked with. I'm already proud! At the very end, Little threw his hands and feet in the air, scrunched his tiny face, and then punctuated the whole thing with a flip to face downward. Then, just like his mother might do, he turned his backside to the camera to show off his bum.
The photo we brought home was truly amazing. I promise to post the ultrasound image as soon as we scan it. A remarkably clear shot of his/her face. Cute pouty lips and a perfectly button nose. One might look and suspect that Little is a girl--it's such a feminine pose--but I remind you that Little's daddy is Argentine and Italian. The Euro man face is charmingly sex-neutral. I'd venture to say that Little is gonna be a looker!
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
12 Weeks
So there was no magical moment, no twinkling of the universe, nothing remarkably grand when I woke up and stepped into my second trimester. Well, nothing more than feeling that the pregnancy is more sound and secure than it was a couple weeks ago and even more than several weeks before that. Honestly, that alone is sufficient.
But, if I could be selfish for just a moment...come on! Can I get some energy spurts? A properly functioning stomach? The delightful honeymoon phase? One piece of it, just something? I thought it was coming on last week when I went out to dinner at 7:30 at night (I know, so late, right?) with Beth, Meghan and Loey. I was so proud of myself for waiting until that hour for dinner (I'm really making myself sound bad now) and I felt great right up until we were heading home when I started to crash. I was so worried that I would have had to just stay home because I was too tired, too nauseous, or just too plain hungry to eat like a normal person in public. I remember thinking...this is it! It's coming. A return to normalcy--the end of the alien abduction of my body! The loved little parasite rests in waiting!
Alas, no. This weekend my sweet mother took care of me while I laid horizontal for nearly the whole two days. She had to witness me eat more food than she's probably eaten in the last two weeks. It's so not over.
I did however purchase my first "maternity" clothes. On Friday morning, I perused Fit Pregnancy and saw this epic-ly cute dress. It was black, stretchy, and edgy. Just my style (in better days, I suppose, but still). It retailed for $90 but I found it on ebay for $40. It wasn't a maternity dress, per se, however. It was a super stretchy little black cocktail dress that some falsely pregnant chick in a magazine fit herself into. I thought--eh, it's worth it. If I feel right now like looking that cute is in my near future, it's worth the money to take the risk. I bought it in a size large (fearful it was all a hoax), it arrived yesterday, and, dang, I like it. I think it will look even more cute when my belly is a more full size. Right now, my first scheduled wear is Nico's work holiday party, but we'll see if I get it out and about prior.
My ma and I also went to Target where none of the clothes in the store looked nearly as cute as the clothing available online. This is seemingly often the case in retail stores that have maternity sections in addition to women's wear. I bought a pair of stretchy pants, a stretchy top, and a pair of work pants. Basic, immediate needs met. I wore the stretchy pants and top all weekend long. Finally, some comfy clothes that fit.
Thursday is my first ultrasound, first picture of Little! Little is the size of a lime now. Once they see him or her on the big screen, we'll get a more precise due date. Right now, April 30 is the best we've got.
We'll also be undergoing genetic counseling to learn more about the likelihood of inherited outcomes. I'm just hoping to learn the exact probability that our child will be Deaf--I hope they can calculate that. That will be so cool to see that number, and feel like it's a good, distinct possibility. It would just feel right to have a Deaf child, like I'm keeping my family the way it is, and not morphing it into an all hearing family for generations to come. Fingers crossed.
But, if I could be selfish for just a moment...come on! Can I get some energy spurts? A properly functioning stomach? The delightful honeymoon phase? One piece of it, just something? I thought it was coming on last week when I went out to dinner at 7:30 at night (I know, so late, right?) with Beth, Meghan and Loey. I was so proud of myself for waiting until that hour for dinner (I'm really making myself sound bad now) and I felt great right up until we were heading home when I started to crash. I was so worried that I would have had to just stay home because I was too tired, too nauseous, or just too plain hungry to eat like a normal person in public. I remember thinking...this is it! It's coming. A return to normalcy--the end of the alien abduction of my body! The loved little parasite rests in waiting!
Alas, no. This weekend my sweet mother took care of me while I laid horizontal for nearly the whole two days. She had to witness me eat more food than she's probably eaten in the last two weeks. It's so not over.
I did however purchase my first "maternity" clothes. On Friday morning, I perused Fit Pregnancy and saw this epic-ly cute dress. It was black, stretchy, and edgy. Just my style (in better days, I suppose, but still). It retailed for $90 but I found it on ebay for $40. It wasn't a maternity dress, per se, however. It was a super stretchy little black cocktail dress that some falsely pregnant chick in a magazine fit herself into. I thought--eh, it's worth it. If I feel right now like looking that cute is in my near future, it's worth the money to take the risk. I bought it in a size large (fearful it was all a hoax), it arrived yesterday, and, dang, I like it. I think it will look even more cute when my belly is a more full size. Right now, my first scheduled wear is Nico's work holiday party, but we'll see if I get it out and about prior.
My ma and I also went to Target where none of the clothes in the store looked nearly as cute as the clothing available online. This is seemingly often the case in retail stores that have maternity sections in addition to women's wear. I bought a pair of stretchy pants, a stretchy top, and a pair of work pants. Basic, immediate needs met. I wore the stretchy pants and top all weekend long. Finally, some comfy clothes that fit.
Thursday is my first ultrasound, first picture of Little! Little is the size of a lime now. Once they see him or her on the big screen, we'll get a more precise due date. Right now, April 30 is the best we've got.
We'll also be undergoing genetic counseling to learn more about the likelihood of inherited outcomes. I'm just hoping to learn the exact probability that our child will be Deaf--I hope they can calculate that. That will be so cool to see that number, and feel like it's a good, distinct possibility. It would just feel right to have a Deaf child, like I'm keeping my family the way it is, and not morphing it into an all hearing family for generations to come. Fingers crossed.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Maternity Wear
Oh boy oh boy oh boy. It's a sad moment for this lady of looks to see the fall styles really passing me by. They're not made for this evolving shape! Here's the tale of my first encounters with maternity wear.A couple weeks ago, Sydney patiently held my hand in my first sojourn into maternity wear. We went to a maternity clothing shop in Rittenhouse. She said, See, some of these clothes are nice. She was absolutely right. Some were downright adorable (see dress on LEFT). The only hitch is that they are ridiculously expensive (also see dress on LEFT). Call me cheap but paying more than $60 for one skirt just isn't my bag. There's not THAT much more fabric, people! It's a total scam, preying on women who've ballooned into a strange new shape and are just aching to still be cute in public. (At home, I just wear boxers or stretch pants. Poor hubby.) I very slowly perused the store, taking serious glances at the store clerks to see if they would offer to help me, or if they just perceived my belly as simply big. I think I worked hard enough in assistance of Syd that it wouldn't have been right for them to ask, but it was a mind vortex of a situation regardless. This was my future. My outerwear future. A big huge, stomach hole of a winter coat was awaiting me.
Sydney looked really cute in the outfits she tried on though, so I was hopeful. A few days later I went to the maternity section of another Rittenhouse spot. The clothes were so weird. Half of them were like swimming in pools, while the other half was already so tight and stretched. Wha? I was so confused. And the sizing--it's all either small, medium, or large (when did that ever really work for women's bodies?) OR it's your size now plus some pregnancy growth. Was I a size 6 or a size 10? I didn't understand it at all. I did find only one pair of pants that seemed to fit okay. They were work pants, and I'm desperate for some as I only have one pair that still fits. It was a moment of reckoning, though, buying those pants. I slid up to the counter, and put them down. The cashier then asked me something very reasonable about my purchase and I. JUST. FROZE. Stood there. Couldn't say a word. Only stared. And then I turned, and briskly scampered away. Without a word. Left those pants right on the counter and abandoned ship so fast. It was a moment I was not yet prepared for--wearing pants with stretchy fabric that hikes up to my boobs, moving up in size, spending money for these big changes, acknowledging that not only clothing but LIFE is different, picturing big bras that collect milk leaks, incorporating baby carrying accoutrements into my everyday wear, and, um, having a CHILD. Yeah, that too. It was all just too much. I can only imagine the look of fear that cashier saw. Before she soon saw nothing but the back of me running away.
Spilt Beans
After getting confirmation of a heartbeat, boasting a pretty substantial baby bump, and approaching the second trimester with startling speed, my husband and I decided we could let loose the flood gates and spread the word. It was truly such a relief. Even he said so. And evidence of his excitement became apparent when friends approached me having already heard the news from him--when we went for it, he really went for it. It warmed my heart.
It was so fun to share the news because I'm really a horrible liar. I think my face gives it away after my sensibility prevents any accuracy in telling the lie. It's funny because when I was a kid, I remember I used to make up the most elaborate of lies for the most random of audiences. I remember telling my Sunday School teacher one week that, no, I couldn't remove my heartshaped, pink-lensed sunglasses because I now needed them to correct my vision. And, why were they pink and heartshaped? Well, obviously because my Uncle Kevin who is (suddenly) an optometrist loves me so much that he made them pink and heartshaped to publicly demonstrate his love for his niece. I never wore them again after that week, but my Sunday School teacher entertained my ridiculous lie regardless. Now that I think of it, my Sunday School class got a lot of those compulsive lies--I also remember telling my teacher that I needed 5 minutes of class to ask my fellow students questions about crickets as I was participating in a very important study about perceptions of crickets. She refused to oblige, so I asked my fellow students to stay after class and answer my important questions. Only one kid did. Jerks. I was no older than 10, mind you. So, now I surmise, even though I was a persistent little liar back then, I was never a good liar. How could I possibly, therefore, lie twenty years later about something as big as making a baby?!
While I'm sure plenty of folks we shared the news with really kind of already knew, it was refreshing to confirm their suspicions. It's hard not to guess when I'm not drinking, hardly going out, and looking a bit swollen. And it has been fun to hear folks say: I knew it! Of course you did, we're loving friends and it's a hard thing not to know when we know each other that well. I was also tickled when Kristine said that she sensed it, as a mom with a special kind of radar. I want to sense it too--I want to be one of the first to know when more of my best friends tread down this path. I want to be a special insider that giggles at the thought and the slowly evolving sight!
It was so fun to share the news because I'm really a horrible liar. I think my face gives it away after my sensibility prevents any accuracy in telling the lie. It's funny because when I was a kid, I remember I used to make up the most elaborate of lies for the most random of audiences. I remember telling my Sunday School teacher one week that, no, I couldn't remove my heartshaped, pink-lensed sunglasses because I now needed them to correct my vision. And, why were they pink and heartshaped? Well, obviously because my Uncle Kevin who is (suddenly) an optometrist loves me so much that he made them pink and heartshaped to publicly demonstrate his love for his niece. I never wore them again after that week, but my Sunday School teacher entertained my ridiculous lie regardless. Now that I think of it, my Sunday School class got a lot of those compulsive lies--I also remember telling my teacher that I needed 5 minutes of class to ask my fellow students questions about crickets as I was participating in a very important study about perceptions of crickets. She refused to oblige, so I asked my fellow students to stay after class and answer my important questions. Only one kid did. Jerks. I was no older than 10, mind you. So, now I surmise, even though I was a persistent little liar back then, I was never a good liar. How could I possibly, therefore, lie twenty years later about something as big as making a baby?!
While I'm sure plenty of folks we shared the news with really kind of already knew, it was refreshing to confirm their suspicions. It's hard not to guess when I'm not drinking, hardly going out, and looking a bit swollen. And it has been fun to hear folks say: I knew it! Of course you did, we're loving friends and it's a hard thing not to know when we know each other that well. I was also tickled when Kristine said that she sensed it, as a mom with a special kind of radar. I want to sense it too--I want to be one of the first to know when more of my best friends tread down this path. I want to be a special insider that giggles at the thought and the slowly evolving sight!
11 Weeks
11 Weeks. That means almost 12! At the heels of the second trimester. It's literally days away. I'm thrilled that my Mom will be in town with me visiting when Week 12 starts--hopefully, I'll magically feel better!
Hmmm, what has 11 weeks felt like?
A lot more exhaustion. Even more than I felt before. Keeping my eyes open past 9 PM is a difficult exercise. I feel fatigued. Waking up in the morning feels like the next day came after just 15 minutes of rest, and when I finally fall into bed each night, it feels like I haven't slept in days. There has been a lot of fun activity and commotion lately with Sydney's baby shower and visiting with friends and Phillies games, and I'm only able to participate through sheer will. I've found myself falling asleep during Phillies playoff games and Eagles games--this is NOT the Amanda that once was!
I've also had incessant eye twitching--I know many folks (non-pregnant included) experience this at some point. I just learned this past weekend that it's even more common during pregnancy because it's brought on by: fatigue, stress, and/or vitamin deficiencies, all of which are more common during pregnancy as the body focuses so much energy on the growing baby and contributes most of its nutrients to the baby. It leaves little for me. I'm taking a prenatal vitamin and another omega supplement with additional nutrients so I'm getting the intake that I need, but it's still not enough. Why you such a parasite, Little? Taking all my good stuff...
A whole lot more heartburn too. Apparently, the surge of hormones has interfered with the functioning of the valve between my stomach and my esophagus. (That too?!) Many of you know that my valve is already faulty. I've had acid reflux since I was a teenager (it runs in my family) and I've been on a daily medicine regimen for over 10 years. With this new interruption in functioning, I go to bed most evenings in some heartburn pain. THANKFULLY, Tums are okay and they're my new daily additional dose of calcium. It was a tough decision for me to proceed with taking my GERD medication as its Pregnancy Category is Category B. That means: "Animal reproduction studies have failed to demonstrate a risk to the fetus and there are no adequate and well-controlled studies in pregnant women OR Animal studies have shown an adverse effect, but adequate and well-controlled studies in pregnant women have failed to demonstrate a risk to the fetus in any trimester." There are 5 categories ranging from A (best) to X (worst). I made the decision to continue taking my medicine with my primary care doctor and my midwife through a risk-benefit analysis process they seemingly often use to work with women in making difficult decisions to continue or discontinue their medications. Since there are no demonstrated risks related to my medication, and it's a known truth that I would be in intense heartburn pain everyday and all day if I didn't take it, then we decided that I should continue with it because being in pain and experiencing stress from the pain might be a greater risk for the baby then the drug itself. My doctor explained that some women continue to take lower category drugs because they have little choice--some asthma medications for example are in more dangerous categories but not taking them could cause risk of death to moms-to-be. It's a fascinating process and I was lucky to have the thoughtful input of very supportive female providers in thinking through what I wanted to do, but I still have a tinge of regret and fear. My body is my body--it has always been this way--and this is the best option for me now. I'm hopeful that more research will eventually be available so other women who have GERD can make more informed decisions, though human studies on pregnant women are a very risky venture. I was also remiss to learn that there are almost no medications that go into the Category A rating--there is a huge research gap for most adult pharmaceuticals.
OH YES, and the strangest discovery came last week when I went in to get my teeth cleaned. It was a very painful regular cleaning. The dental hygienist told me that the hormones ALSO cause my tissue to become more tender, which can cause some inflammation of the gums and teeth sensitivity. I was cringing through the whole thing, and afterward I felt like my mouth was swollen. About five days later, and my mouth is still sore. My hygienist told me that twice she predicted clients' pregnancies by working on their teeth. Both women said they weren't pregnant, but months later she received confirmation that they were. I was also tickled when the dentist emerged, and she too was pregnant. Yay pregnant club! She asked me how I was feeling, and told me that literally on her first day of Week 12, everything changed. The morning sickness disappeared; it was replaced with a burst of energy. I'm just days away and hoping it'll turn on a dime for me too! When I was leaving, she very sweetly said: "Next time you come, you'll be bigger! And I'll have a child!" Oh boy, that's right. I'm in the getting bigger, lots of changes part. You're in the confronting full-on parenthood, new PERSON ON THE EARTH part!
Hm, and what else? Oh everything! Including exercise. It feels different. I'm now officially ALWAYS the sweatiest person in my gym classes. Before I was just usually the sweatiest person. I get more heated when I work out (cheeks stay red for about an hour), and my body feels a lot heavier even though I've gained just 4 pounds. Some moves now feel like they are anathema to my physical make-up. Like doing abs exercises on my back. It feels very, very wrong. I'm supposed to stop doing them when I start Week 12 so I only have a few more days of them, but I also read that I should do them as long as I can as they're important muscles for carrying and delivering. I'll have to explore abs work-outs from different positions for after this week. Right now, it feels like there's a strangely shaped weight sitting right on my abdomen and I'm trying to stretch muscles around it. Just not a good sensation at all. And exercises where I bring my legs up to my torso feel wrong too--like there's an interior barrier that I just can't move around. It's no surprise since my uterus is now the size of a small CANTELOUPE. That's big!
Little is just the size of a fig, however. He can open and close his hands now, and hopefully all the webbing is gone. I'm also concerned about that tail. I hope that's gone too. Are you a boy, Little? Come on, tell me.
Hmmm, what has 11 weeks felt like?
A lot more exhaustion. Even more than I felt before. Keeping my eyes open past 9 PM is a difficult exercise. I feel fatigued. Waking up in the morning feels like the next day came after just 15 minutes of rest, and when I finally fall into bed each night, it feels like I haven't slept in days. There has been a lot of fun activity and commotion lately with Sydney's baby shower and visiting with friends and Phillies games, and I'm only able to participate through sheer will. I've found myself falling asleep during Phillies playoff games and Eagles games--this is NOT the Amanda that once was!
I've also had incessant eye twitching--I know many folks (non-pregnant included) experience this at some point. I just learned this past weekend that it's even more common during pregnancy because it's brought on by: fatigue, stress, and/or vitamin deficiencies, all of which are more common during pregnancy as the body focuses so much energy on the growing baby and contributes most of its nutrients to the baby. It leaves little for me. I'm taking a prenatal vitamin and another omega supplement with additional nutrients so I'm getting the intake that I need, but it's still not enough. Why you such a parasite, Little? Taking all my good stuff...
A whole lot more heartburn too. Apparently, the surge of hormones has interfered with the functioning of the valve between my stomach and my esophagus. (That too?!) Many of you know that my valve is already faulty. I've had acid reflux since I was a teenager (it runs in my family) and I've been on a daily medicine regimen for over 10 years. With this new interruption in functioning, I go to bed most evenings in some heartburn pain. THANKFULLY, Tums are okay and they're my new daily additional dose of calcium. It was a tough decision for me to proceed with taking my GERD medication as its Pregnancy Category is Category B. That means: "Animal reproduction studies have failed to demonstrate a risk to the fetus and there are no adequate and well-controlled studies in pregnant women OR Animal studies have shown an adverse effect, but adequate and well-controlled studies in pregnant women have failed to demonstrate a risk to the fetus in any trimester." There are 5 categories ranging from A (best) to X (worst). I made the decision to continue taking my medicine with my primary care doctor and my midwife through a risk-benefit analysis process they seemingly often use to work with women in making difficult decisions to continue or discontinue their medications. Since there are no demonstrated risks related to my medication, and it's a known truth that I would be in intense heartburn pain everyday and all day if I didn't take it, then we decided that I should continue with it because being in pain and experiencing stress from the pain might be a greater risk for the baby then the drug itself. My doctor explained that some women continue to take lower category drugs because they have little choice--some asthma medications for example are in more dangerous categories but not taking them could cause risk of death to moms-to-be. It's a fascinating process and I was lucky to have the thoughtful input of very supportive female providers in thinking through what I wanted to do, but I still have a tinge of regret and fear. My body is my body--it has always been this way--and this is the best option for me now. I'm hopeful that more research will eventually be available so other women who have GERD can make more informed decisions, though human studies on pregnant women are a very risky venture. I was also remiss to learn that there are almost no medications that go into the Category A rating--there is a huge research gap for most adult pharmaceuticals.
OH YES, and the strangest discovery came last week when I went in to get my teeth cleaned. It was a very painful regular cleaning. The dental hygienist told me that the hormones ALSO cause my tissue to become more tender, which can cause some inflammation of the gums and teeth sensitivity. I was cringing through the whole thing, and afterward I felt like my mouth was swollen. About five days later, and my mouth is still sore. My hygienist told me that twice she predicted clients' pregnancies by working on their teeth. Both women said they weren't pregnant, but months later she received confirmation that they were. I was also tickled when the dentist emerged, and she too was pregnant. Yay pregnant club! She asked me how I was feeling, and told me that literally on her first day of Week 12, everything changed. The morning sickness disappeared; it was replaced with a burst of energy. I'm just days away and hoping it'll turn on a dime for me too! When I was leaving, she very sweetly said: "Next time you come, you'll be bigger! And I'll have a child!" Oh boy, that's right. I'm in the getting bigger, lots of changes part. You're in the confronting full-on parenthood, new PERSON ON THE EARTH part!
Hm, and what else? Oh everything! Including exercise. It feels different. I'm now officially ALWAYS the sweatiest person in my gym classes. Before I was just usually the sweatiest person. I get more heated when I work out (cheeks stay red for about an hour), and my body feels a lot heavier even though I've gained just 4 pounds. Some moves now feel like they are anathema to my physical make-up. Like doing abs exercises on my back. It feels very, very wrong. I'm supposed to stop doing them when I start Week 12 so I only have a few more days of them, but I also read that I should do them as long as I can as they're important muscles for carrying and delivering. I'll have to explore abs work-outs from different positions for after this week. Right now, it feels like there's a strangely shaped weight sitting right on my abdomen and I'm trying to stretch muscles around it. Just not a good sensation at all. And exercises where I bring my legs up to my torso feel wrong too--like there's an interior barrier that I just can't move around. It's no surprise since my uterus is now the size of a small CANTELOUPE. That's big!
Little is just the size of a fig, however. He can open and close his hands now, and hopefully all the webbing is gone. I'm also concerned about that tail. I hope that's gone too. Are you a boy, Little? Come on, tell me.
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