I'm currently 18 weeks along in pregnancy lingo. If you've never had a baby and you're like I was, that means absolutely nothing to you. I remember I used to get so irritated when people would refer to their pregnancy in terms of "weeks." You go your whole life learning "9 months" for human gestation, then all of a sudden you talk to a pregnant woman who tells you she's 22 weeks, and you have to spend the next 10 minutes trying to figure out if that's 4 months or 5. (And I have no idea.) Basically, though, I'm about 4 months along, maybe a little over. We find out the gender two weeks from today.
Other than the constant "I've been hit by a Mac Truck" sensation, I'm feeling okay, or at least I was up until about a week and a half ago. That's when I had my 16-week (4 month?) appointment, and they told me I was anemic and nonchalantly handed me some iron pill samples and a prescription for more of the same. I headed directly to my local pharmacy (go local! hurray! -- shameless ad for your neighborhood drug stores!), forked over $30+ (we discovered a few weeks ago that our insurance doesn't cover vitamins of any kind, prescription or not), and took my first pill that night.
I promptly vomited.
That's right folks. I had gotten through the dreaded first trimester without losing an ounce of my food, and all of a sudden, I was hugging the toilet. What in the world? It had to be the pills.
The next day, it was coming out in other ways (sorry.). The day after that, I developed a severe cough on top of the queasiness. Cal got a fever that lasted a week. I'm still coughing like crazy, all the while keeping my fingers crossed that I don't accidentally push the baby (or something worse) out in one of my uncontrollable fits. I heard Cal telling his sister on the phone the other day that he can't remember there ever being a time when I didn't cough. I'm coughing right this very second, actually.
Therefore, in spite of what may or may not be legitimately attributed to them, I've now officially renamed my iron pills the "Pills from hell", or "PfH". (Is that blasphemous?) I'm remembering fondly the days when I was anemic, and I long to have them back. Was I tired then? Pshaw. I am tired now, AND have to fight off nausea every morning, AND am constipated, AND sound like I've been smoking for 73 years. So why am I not blogging? I'm just glad I'm alive.
I'm not much of a drinker, but I can hardly wait for a glass of wine as soon as I have this child. That, and a big ol' swig of cough syrup.
5 comments:
Well, I'm glad to have an update! Sorry you are not feeling so great. Hope that this, too, will pass. Between the school responsibilities and feeling rotten, you have a full day. We've been thinking of you! You better give a quick update when we know if we have a new little boy or little girl on the way!
I feel a little sheepish this morning about all my whining and complaining! Yeah, I don't feel great, but I feel no worse (and probably a good bit better, actually) than the billions of other women who've ever been pregnant!
So take this blog with a grain of salt, and realize that I must've been in a grumpy mood when I wrote it! :)
I'm with you, honey. As far as I'm concerned, delivering the baby is a cake walk compared to nine months of pregnancy.
Hoorah; an update! I can't put you on a guilt trip; I don't blog at all and I'm not pregnant, don't work, and am child-free! Baby Sweet P will think the world is fairly calm after all the commotion she/he is experiencing in the womb! We can't wait til "D" day (delivery day) but right now we are curiously awaiting "S" day (sex day). Boy or girl; either will be wonderful.
In the end (after a couple of years) the memories of any uncomfortable pregnancy moments will fade :)
Glad you're doing better.
You look so cute!!!!!
Post a Comment