TheBeanBlog

Part One: Friday I had an off site lunch for a co-workers birthday; she wanted to eat at a burger joint. Well during lunch I was feeling voracious and surprising not nauseous. I ended up eating the whole of a massive cheeseburger.

I knew from the last bite that I had made an awful mistake. I barely made the ride home trying jedi-yoga-meditative-mind-over-body tricks to prevent myself from vomiting out the window of my husband’s SUV!

Well let’s just say Friday night was not the start to the weekend I was hoping for… I did learn something though: A bathroom toilet can never be clean enough.  I will not need to eat a hamburger for at least another five years or perhaps ever again.

Part Two:  Last night our heat wasn’t working so my husband had to work with the boiler guy to get it up and running. As a normal pregnant woman I could not wait for him to eat so I had some soup.

About an hour later he was ready for dinner and wanted to just grab something quick out of the freezer and reheat. Among the frozen offerings was a mini quiche from Trader Joe’s and he asked me for that.

I took one look at the box and the lovely illustrative picture and *thought* of the texture of quiche and that was enough to set me off. I went running for the bathroom and lost it. I was actually laughing while throwing up because it was so ridiculous. Just thinking of a non-baby-approved-food is enough for me!  Back to potatoes, cheese and crackers!!!

Occasionally at night when I am lying quietly in bed waiting to fall asleep it hits me that at some point in 61/2-7 months I will need to deliver this baby. This thought is absolutely terrifying for me.

When I was a tomboy growing up I decided I would never have any children for no other reason than I did not want to experience childbirth/labor. Now I know this is not unusual (being afraid of childbirth that is), but I am aware of some women who stand brave, confident and even peaceful when it comes to this major life experience.

Please know I feel extremely blessed to be pregnant and I’m thankful everyday for that. Having said that I can now also say after getting that positive test result I have felt like I’ve been strapped into one of those mega-supreme-scream roller coaster rides and I am click-click-click riding up that big peak with a tiny fraction of an idea of what’s in store for me. Let me just add that I was never one for roller coasters either (although I am a fan of the scrambler type rides where you go around in circles, but that’s for another discussion).

I’m not sure I’ll have a solution for this anxiety other than sharing it with my doctors and any woman that wants to try and share with me her “battle story.” Maybe I can apply the two mantras I’ve been using for the ADN (all-day-nausea), “This too will pass” and “It will all be worth it in the end.” 13 weeks.

Last night Joe and I were busy crunching numbers to see if it would be possible for me to be a stay at home Mom (for maybe the first year and then reassess).  We came to the conclusion that I could, which is a huge blessing in itself to be able to have the power to choose.

This afternoon I sit down in a meeting with my VP where I expect to just provide status updates on several big projects I’m working on and she starts the meeting by telling me she wants to promote me to a manager level within the next three months. 

Now mind you, I have been working for the same company 6 1/2 years and had up until recently fought a long battle for a promotion which I felt I had already earned.  This is of course a great compliment to me that she sees this potential in me; but I had resigned myself to the fact that I would be in the same role for the next 6 months of my pregnancy.  Well I definitely won’t look a gift horse in the mouth (nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?) but I just find it ironic the way that life can throw you a curveball when you’re not expecting it!  Of course, this is a great opportuntity it is just going to make my decision making process that much more difficult when I am away on maternity leave.  Looking at it on the bright side- I am very lucky!

Yesterday while a party for one of my adorable nephews I overheard my darling husband ask my sister, Danielle, an inquisitive question.  Here’s a recap of their very brief exchange:

Joe:  I have a question for you.  When you were pregnant…were you cranky?
Danielle:  Nope, not really until the end when I was 9 months pregnant and ready to be done with it all.
Joe:  Hmmmmmmmmmm….

Gee, I wonder what prompted Joe to ask that question.  Must be the fact that lately the ADN (all-day-nausea) has been turning me into a crotchety, ranting lunatic.  At times the littlest thing he is doing sets me off.  Joe is a ‘fidgeter’, always moving, always playing with something in his hands or making noises ala the Seinfeld intro.  Lately that endearing quality has not been so…err..endearing.  At least at the end of the day we have each other, crankiness, figdets and all!             

Oh God. This was one of the symptoms I was hoping I would not succumb to.

Last night as Joe was running errands I flicked the TV on and started watching the Ghost Whisperer. In this episode Jennifer Love Hewitt is trying to solve a case were a maniac lawyer stalks a girl and pushed her to the point of death. The only friend the girl had while alive was a police officer that was invesitgating her stalker and trying to find a way to protect her. At the end of the show after the bad guy gets his just desserts Jennifer and the ghost of the girl go to the police department to talk to the officer and thank him for his help. Apparently, the two had feelings for each other, but the officer didn’t want to break the girl’s trust. Anyways Jennifer passes along the message that the officer meant so much to the girl and the ghost kisses him goodbye. At this point I start crying. Crying? Yes crying!

I have previsouly judged this show as nothing more than an hour to showcase Jennifer Love Hewitts boobs in multiple states of dress and undress. She’ll be in a nightie, a low cut top, tight v-necks etc all in the span of one hour and because of that I didn’t really take that the show too serisouly. Well because of my pregnancy induced hormone fog there I was, a blubbering mess thinking this was a masterful piece of drama.

This morning I’m trying to clean up one of my email accounts and my Mom had sent me a chain email. Instead of hitting “delete” (sorry Mom, not a fan of chain emails!) I decide to read it and once again at the end of the sappy story I find myself misting up again. Oh boy, I’m hoping this is one of those symptoms that comes and then disappears-and fast!

This afternoon I had my frist trimester screening appointment with my doctor. Everything went great and Joe was able to make it too, which was special.

We had the ultrasound first and the tech was fantastic. She jiggled the probe around on my belly and “woke” the baby up. It was amazing, the baby started kicking its arms and legs up in the air, in an instant it went from looking like a snapshot to a crazy animation (that’s the best I can do to articulate it), coming alive on the screen. The tech said that our baby was very cooperative, let’s hope that quality sticks for a while to come. Joe teared up a little and it was so sweet to see him as excited and amazed as me. It totally blew my mind.

The rest of the visit was pretty mundane, my doctor said everything looked perfect and was on schedule (Thank God), that my nausea should pass in the next few weeks (keeping fingers crossed) and I had some blood drawn. Ooh and I forgot another nice detail, no weight gain. Probably due to the ADN…and I’m bound to blow up eventually so stay tuned for that! Joe and I celebrated with some calamari and pizza.

Hmmm just when I was thinking that the ADN (All Day Nausea) was beginning to lighten it’s grip, I was psyched out! The past two days have been rough, between the dry heaving, thurps (throw-up burps), reflux and just plain feeling green all the time. Last night, in desperation to escape it I asked Joe to just knock me out and put me out of my misery. He did not oblige…

The one food that has offered solace and comfort through these ups and downs is the humble potato. I can, pardon the pun, stomach the potato in many incarnations, but my two favorites are baked followed by mashed. The other day at my work’s cafeteria they had a baked potato bar and it literally brought tears to my eyes. I can layer on the sour cream, butter and S&P happily and not be haunted by it for the rest of the day.

In a guilt ridden attempt to eat more healthful food (I had all these aspirations of eating every vegetable and fruit in sight and being the healthiest pregnant woman ever-HAAA!) one morning I snacked on a little fruit salad. I was horrified when six hours after my earnest attempt I was still belching up the damned cantelope and it was setting my esophagus on fire.
This morning I tried a banana, and now 12, yes 12 hours later that frickin banana won’t loosen its *supposedly* slippery grip on my belly….Note to self: find new and inventive recipes for potatos and motivate…or if need be…guilt husband into making them for me!!!

This ‘event’ happened more than a few weeks ago, but for posterity I must include it because this is one story I don’t want to forget- I’d like to be able to look back and get some giggles. I was reminded of it when I met up with a dear friend for lunch today and we were updating each other on our ‘children’ a.k.a. cats (no, we’re really not that insane).

On August 24th I was blessed with the BFP. At that point my wonderful Joe told me the kitty litter box was off limits to me (yeah! one less chore to deal with). I tried to emphasize that Malcolm’s box needed to be cleaned out every day or at least every other day.

Now I need to provide you with a little background on Malcolm. He is about 12 and tends to act more like a dog than a cat. He is waiting at the door for me when I come home from work, and wants to tell me about his day. He follows me through the house like a puppy, and over the past 9 years that I have had him, he has proven to be a pretty quick-witted, intelligent and humorous kitty.

Fast forward back to Joe taking over the responsibility of cleaning the litter. Every few days I would remind Joe about the box, because, after all he hadn’t done it before and I warned him that Malcolm is a very clean kitty. It was obvious that Joe was slacking off, he is very busy so it’s understandable it would slip his mind. On one particular week it had been days since he had cleaned the box. I asked him to do it before we left the house to run errands, Joe’s response, “I’ll take care of it tonight.” No problem.

Well we get home from our day of to-dos and come in the house through the kitchen. Joe walks in first and looks at our kitchen table and says, “What is that?” We walked over to get a closer look and, low and behold, Malcolm has left Joe a present right in the precise spot where Joe has his dinner every night. Basically he crapped where Joe eats!!! That night we laughed our a**es off and Joe received a well delivered message from Malcolm…clean the box MORE!!

One of the first things I noticed before the BFP (Big Fat Positive -Pregancy Test result) was being extremely hot at night in bed. While on our summer vacation, I remember waking up in the middle of the night peeling off clothing to cool off. This is quite a departure for me, because until recently I have always had a battle with keeping the “shivers” at bay.

For as long as I can remember my hands, nose and feet would go numb as soon as September came around and I battled that until July. Most summer nights I would have to throw three plus layers on to keep warm enough from those soothing summer breezes. My husband Joe has lovingly named my lower phalanges “ice cube toes”. Well all of this has come to a screeching halt. In the first few weeks after my BFP I sailed on a happy symptom free wave with this one exception: feeling like I was literally baking!

The heat wave disappeared for a while and then, low and behold, last night the dial on my internal thermostat was cranked up to the max again. In the middle of the night I heard Joe uttering the title of my post as he rolled away to escape the heat. Gone are the days of cuddling, snuggling and spooning. Now all I want on me is a sheet (if that) and in the middle of October I still want the AC on. Gotta find a way to stall Joe from taking the air conditioner out of our bedroom, must find a way! 10 weeks 6 days…

I never was one for staving off hunger for long periods of time. I tend to be a snacker, munching throughout the day. That urgency I once felt has been magnified to a degree I cannot truly articulate.

Earlier last week my husband Joe and I decided to go do some car shopping after work. We have to get rid of my Jeep Liberty ASAP since it has an unrepairable mold issue. We test drove a couple of SUVs and then decided to call it a night. As we made our way back towards our house I went from being completely comfortable hunger-wise to nauseous and faint from desperately needing food in about….mmm…3 seconds flat.

Joe’s solution, a good one under normal circumstances, “Ok let’s pick something up on the way.” Perfect, but at this point I am desperately trying to find my happy place to prevent the dry heaving from beginning. We pull off the road and get in line for a drive thru at Boston Market. Again, under normal crcumstances a drive-thru would be fine, but the line is long (anything more than two cars is seeming like forever to me at this point) and I am getting more desparate. As we pull up to order my husband realizes he has no cash. The angels are shining on me at this point, because now I know if we go inside I will be able to get something in my stomach faster (versus taking the food on the fifteen min. trip home which I don’t think I will survive).

We go inside and I proceed to order my usual favorite meal. I am a creature of habit, and hey, why mix it up when you are already feeling like sludge? We pay and sit down to eat, ok salvation should be imminent for me. I scoop up warm, creamy mashed potatos and begin to feel a touch better. I try to eat some of rest of the meal; roast chicken and mac n’cheese. After a couple forkfuls of each I realize the only thing I am going to be able to stomach is the mashed potatos. A real bummer for me, but at least I have found something that I can eat and I no longer feel like I am going to die.

The moral of this drawn out story, if you know a pregnant woman, have pity on her, because more likely than not she is ruled by her stomach….which at times makes no sense whatsoever. Also have pity on her husband, because he too is ruled by her stomach!