TheBeanBlog

Well my thoughts were confirmed.  I was sitting in my cube at about a quarter after four, typing away and all of a sudden, I felt a tiny kick (more like a tap) about four inches below my belly button. I froze in my chair and held my breath, and then again about five times in a row.  I felt the bean actually kicking! 

It totally blew me away. I emailed Joe “KICKING! I feel kicking!”  He called me up and asked me fifteen different questions (awwww) and I got a little teary eyed.  Our little science experiment.  It’s crazy, I’ve been pregnant for about 17 and a half weeks now, but to feel something jump around inside you brings it to a whole new level of reality.  I’m hoping for a repeat performance soon!

I think I might have felt the bean last night. At about 3am I woke up for my regular run to the ladies room and realized that for once the urge to pee was not what had woken me up. I felt what could be best described as a “swoosh” and then laid very still to see if it would happen again. Low and behold a minute later three more times.

Now as I am lucid this morning I’m still not sure if this was what I thought it was, but I never had a feeling like that in my abdomen before, so I’m going to wait and see…..

I’m not sure if this is a widely accepted misconception, but I have read it in my pregnancy books and online- apparently the second semester is suppossed to be the best and most comfortable one.  During the second semester you should feel like your old self or perhaps even better.  Your nausea should have disappeared (ha, ha) and your energy levels should return to normal or you may even have more energy than pre-pregnancy. 

That’s straight out of one of my books and here I am in my 17th week still hoping for that energy surge to come on- any minute now–please!!! 

Today was spent running errands and doing all things Christmas and winter-related (writing out addresses for my cards, bringing up the last bunch of winter clothes, doing a litttle shopping and some wrapping) and here I am at twenty past five in the afternoon feeling as though it’s 11:30 and I slept in this morning!  Oh my it’s going to be a long winter…I’m off to research hibernation, sweet dreams!

One of the fascinating symptoms I have found as I entered the second trimester is incredibly vivid and insane dreams. First I dreamt I was out to save the world from brain sucking aliens. Next was the Karate dream. This was a bit more detailed than the alien blasting dream.

I’m alone walking in this grassy “knoll” and this greasy red-curly-haired guy with only a t-shirt and tighty whities comes up to me and is trying to talk sweet to me. At first I ignore, but then he starts getting closer and invading the personal bubble. He’s talking about trying to take advantage of me in less flattering terms. I get so pissed off by what he says that I turn around swing and karate-chop-kick him right in the neck and knock him out. Meanwhile in reality, I swing and kick at my night table and end up slamming it so hard in my sleep that it wakes Joe and I both up. Joe, still half alseep, thinks someone is trying to break into the house. I tell him “No, no it was just me doing karate,” he sighs and rolls over attempting to go back to sleep. The crazy pregnant woman strikes again-literally!

Finally, last night was truly a classic. In this dream I’m with Joe and we are on vacation at this really nice hotel, I have no idea where. The hotel staff asks me to clean ice cream off the walls in return for free buffet for the rest of our stay so I take the offer and clean up the small mess. The rest of the dream Joe and I are going to the various buffets filling up and eating everything in sight for hours at a time. I remember getting really excited about there being a hibachi grill in the hotel, god help me. And then the last day of our stay we go for eight helpings of the buffet breakfast. There was some Thai and Indian delicacies and I was crazy euphoric about that screaming at Joe that “we missed a whole section of the buffet!!” On our way out I stole someone’s bagel from the toaster and grabbed four english muffins!!! Lord help me…now if I could only eat like that in reality….

I’ve been a bit neglectful of my blog as of late because I have felt like hell warmed over (another one of my meaningless expressions). I will never, ever say the ADN is getting better again because it seems as though everytime I have said it I get punished with it worse than before. I’m gagging as I’m typing, ugh.

I had a doctor’s appointment this afternoon, which essentially went very well after waiting forever. Joe joined me, which was sweet of him since I told him he didn’t have to (no U/S today). The bean’s heartbeat is strong and healthy.

I, however, have lost 6 lounds and discussed the possibility of going on Zofran with my doc to increase my quality of life (which is pretty sucky right now). The jury is still out on this, I’m going to give it a few more days and hope to God that this will get better soon. Both of my sisters started feeling better right around this time with their first babies so maybe that will be the case for me…

I’m crossing my fingers and toes as I type this, but I think I might be seeing the light on the ADN (All Day Nausea).  I felt pretty good this weekend, with the exception of my toothbrushing induced dry heaving (which is to be expected at this point) and some other random moments where I didn’t have anything in my stomach.  I do have a little mild nausea right now (5 o’clock is my usual bewitching hour), but it’s definitely managable. 

For the last month and a half I have been getting up multiple times in the middle of the night to “use the ladies room.”  This weekend that frequency started to take on a new level, as I averaged around 5 times both nights.  This morning in the span of the thirty minutes before I left for work I had to go three, count em, three times!  Oy.  I feel like the capacity of my bladder has shrunk to the size of a teaspoon!  But to be honest, I will happily take this over the ADN, any day! 

And I have a companion in my late night trips to the bathroom, my little guy Malcolm.  He seems to feel it is his responsibility to escort me to and fro the bedroom!  He loyally sits and waits for me to do my business and then returns to the bed with me- what a guy. 

Problem is, it seems as though Malcolm would like some reciprocation for his devotion.  At about 3 o’clock in the morning he prefers cuddling and petting to sleep.  Perhaps this is God’s plan for me to have more “Mommy prep”!

A few weeks ago in my blotated state I desperately looked through my closet of “business casual” clothes for work and could not find a thing to wear. So I grabbed for my default “uniform” piece, a knee length dress. Problem is I hadn’t tried on this particular fall wrap dress since last fall and as I looked in the mirror I was not comfortable with the reflection…

I was running out of time and already had about four discarded reject outfits laying on the bed, so in my desperation I grabbed for a pair of control top pantyhose to help cut back on the bloatation (I hadn’t told my boss at this point and didn’t want my belly to do that for me). Once again (just as with the hamburger) from the moment I hopped in my husband’s SUV I knew I had made a mistake- but it was too late.

That day I was fidgeting so much with those awful hose that I created what I would call a blow-out situation. I basically tore a hole from my hip to my toe, not exactly the look I was going for. Luckily I have since learned from that experience and I have been biding my time by wearing trouser socks with my knee-high boots. Did I mention I miss my flip flops!?!