disconnected, in more ways than one

Even after the AT&T guru came to check our Internet connection and got it working again, it promptly went out. It mysteriously started working... and then it went out again. This has been going on since Wednesday, and today is Sunday. Sweet Clint seems to have managed to fix it again, so we're hoping it will stay working until mid-April when we can move into our California house.

Yes! Our California house! We will officially be signing away 1528 10th Street in D.C. on March 8 and then officially owning 20726 Cheney Drive (a little closer to where we currently live) on March 12. Despite the ownership, we won't be moving in. It's a long story. We'll get to live there eventually. If you want details, contact me and I'll fill you in. I just hope that with our new house, we won't have to deal with the intermittent Internet!

I thought the Internet problem would really been an issue for me simply because I know I spend a lot of time online. As it turned out, it wasn't a big deal. I was so high on the MNN sickness scale (around a 9), that even with the medication and armed with real ginger, Saltine crackers and my Psi bands, these things did me no good. I wasn't physically as ill as I have been over the past 38 days (but who's counting?), however, I was definitely more miserable than when I was making 5 or 6 trips to the outside trash bins.

From Thursday night until Friday evening and then again on Saturday after noonish, I tried desperately to get off the queasy-go-round. I had a strong start yesterday, enjoying the company of a colleague who drove from Arizona to visit ME--- a real treat! But then... between rain showers, my day ended with a weepy whimper that scared Saint Clint.

{{NOTE: I've started calling him this because you'd have to be a saint to live with me lately. He keeps asking what I want and I keep asking for a lobotomy, but he continues to say no. I'm on to requesting my own Avatar, but I don't think I'll be getting one of those either.}}

Here's the thing: I've dealt with this for a while now, and I think it's been plenty long enough. I'm ready to be done with it, finished with passing on participation in many activities, adventures, and meals. I want to start to enjoy myself, feel some semblance of normal. I'm ok with not cycling the course of the LA Marathon this year or not sharing the bottle of wine that's part of our closing contract for the new house, I just want to be connected to my life again, and I'm ready. Now that the internet is working, that's a start.

Lounge Act

Another doctor's appointment!

Today was my "first trimester screening" but Trouble (aka The Nugget, earning a new nickname over the past week since it's been nothing but and I'm rapidly meeting my sky-high deductible thanks to the little bugger) treated it just like the visit the other day-- continued to lounge around.

The ultrasound machine was described as "the Mercedes Benz" of ultrasounds. In a town where there's a Mercedes on every corner, I think it's more like a Bentley. It even has 6 cup holders for long road trips!

The screening is to test for abnormalities and defects. The measurements taken on the video (see the screen freeze intermittently) are combined with results from a blood test and a fancy algorithm determines the chances of problems, mutations, and other scary stuff nobody wants to think about. The genetic counselor told me I had boring family history... hmm. I don't think she meant it that way-- I hail from Sons of Garibaldi and Daughters of the American Revolution!

Of course, the blood is the second part of the equation. Minor problem: I'm so bruised from being poked last week that I don't have any veins left to draw from. That turned out to be okay, since the blood drawn at my doctor's office on Friday was intended for today's visit down the street. phew! I was thinking we'd have to start to get creative between the toes or something...

I won't know for a few days if everything is A-OK, but I thought you might enjoy watching the video and since it wasn't too tough to upload, I went ahead and posted it. Some things are tough to make out, but it does look more like a little person. The video itself is not very interesting and there isn't any sound, so use your imagination when you see the little heartbeat line pop up at (:19). 160 beats per minute, that's an aerobic threshold baby! They gave me a still photo to take home, which makes the little nugget-- which really is the size of a nugget right now-- appear monstrous. Not really, it's less than 2 inches. That's why it can lounge around all the time. Lots of room to float around.

Luckily, my medication seems to be working today and I've managed to stay on pace with my pre-pregnancy water consumption levels. This could change at any moment though, so I have to be grateful for each and every swig that stays down. I'm carefully adding solid foods to my grocery list but still prefer Jell-O to just about anything right now. Let's hope this is the beginning of better things to come. In the meantime, I'm taking it easy and I've started a lounge act of my own... watching Olympic curling.

Escaping

Since today marks a whole month since I've been constantly sick, I figure by now I deserve to leave it-- even if only temporarily.

This afternoon I packed my water and plastic baggies and ran some errands. After a rough morning and no solid foods (again), I was tired of my teaspoon-every-20-minute Pedialyte feedings (I still have Jurassic 5's Quality Control lyrics run through my head every time I have a spoonful -- You baby MCs drink Pedialyte, my underground doesn't like you, the media might...) It took me a good 6 hours to bathe, get dressed and leave the house, but I did it!

Once I was out, I had to carefully plan my moves. First, I hit the post office. The Commodore may not get his birthday gift on time, but I tried (sorry!)... Next, it was on to the library.

Here's where I made my real escape. I like going to the library book store. It can be very rewarding. I found a book that I almost paid $12 for recently for $4 instead. Woo-hoo! That wasn't the best part though, the best part was when I wandered over to the children's section.

I initially moseyed over because I was looking for something fun and new for my nephew, who has probably lost interest in all of the stickers I've been sending him. He also has a little brother now, and while the little one is still drooling and not reading, I'm going to need to double my Auntie budget soon. Anyway, I realise it's far too early for me to be thinking about an additional library card or reading to a certain little person. But this didn't stop me from

thinking about it and making a personal select purchase.

For the nephew, I chose a family favorite. I got him a James Marshall book, which is in fair condition. We'll call it loved. It was $2, and I immediately remembered the characters when I started to read it, which I thought was definitely worth $2.

Since I wasn't feeling like I was going to hurl right there in the library at that moment, I looked around the shelf a little more and found two that I have decided to keep for myself... er, um, rather, I got for the Rockwell library. I can officially say the first book I bought for my first (nobody get too excited) child is One Morning in Maine by Robert McCloskey. I didn't really want the ducklings anyway-- Blueberries for Sal would have been fine too, simply for the Mainey-ness of it all. Just looking at the cover transported me to a summer in Maine, enjoying a [rare] sunny day on the dock, listening to loons on the lake, swimming in the water and trying to describe the way it tastes as it sneaks into your mouth a little. It was funny how easy it was to spot the navy and green cover and recognize the sketches inside. For just a little, while that book took me somewhere else-- exactly where I needed to go. And for $5, it was certainly worth it.

I am home and hoping I might be on to something. The other books in the home library I will build from now on won't be the first, but if I do this once a week, I'll have something to look forward to doing, and I can re-discover places I haven't been for a while... which will be a nice escape.

Finally, Week 11

My absence in the blogosphere can be blamed on MNN, morning-noon-night sickness. I'm not going to call it morning sickness anymore because it just makes me upset to think I should be feeling better by noon each day.

Most of the week is a blur, but let me see if I can recall enough about each day to officially put it behind me and say I really don't ever want to have another week like Week 10. Ever. I'm just glad that the Olympics are going on because it gives me something to look forward to.

On Wednesday, after two straight days of struggling with liquids and liquid-like substances (yogurt), I called my doctor's office. I considered going there, but I didn't think they'd like it if I just walked in and started vomiting in their office. After patiently waiting on hold, the nurse asked me a handful of questions and told me to try Jell-O and Pedialyte. I had my list and was still staring at it when she called back to ask one more (and seemingly critical) question... What color is your pee? TMI? Maybe TMI for a blog, but I'm not afraid to share... there are a lot of other things worse than pee-hue that will likely be around the corner, right? The nurse was quiet for a second when I told her the little pee I'd seen that day was more like honey than apple juice. Yes, giant red flag-- and a ticket to the hospital. I guess it was my little whimper for help. After packing a few books, I was on my way to the emergency room.

I waited for about an hour in the United Nations of ERs, listening and watching my fellow patients in between chapters on beekeeping (I managed to finish the beekeeping book-- we can talk bees some other time). I got through after they called "Kelly"-- confused? Yep. I asked, "First name or last name?" A volunteer checked my wristband and said it was indeed my turn. Yay! A nice nurse my age named Liz gave me some warm blankets and hooked me up to a bag of fluids and drew some blood. A doctor came in and asked me some questions and then Liz returned with a little vial that turned out to be my salvation!

After another bag of fluid (I still hadn't peed, but I eventually did before I left), I was told my blood work looked borderline in some areas (potassium) but good enough to send me on my way. So I walked out feeling like a new woman and went straight to the pharmacy to fill the script for my new wonder drug, Zofran.

I resisted taking it until I could Google it a few times and it seemed like the benefits outweighed the misery, lack of sleep, and being in the hospital again so I took the medicine. I'm not myself, but I certainly am BETTER, and I'll settle for that.

Bag Lady

Never mind sending me bags... in my crazy pregnant mind I must have thought that was a good idea.

Now I have a better idea, thanks to a certain special someone who found these Bio Bags for me at Whole Foods. They're certified 100% compostable and just the right size. Much better than the plastic ones.

Asking for a little help here...

After two straight days of barely functioning (at the sickness scale of at least an 8, possibly 9), I am running out of plastic bags. I don't usually have this problem, seeing that I come from a long line of [somewhat] environmentally responsible hoarders and I collect the bags I get when I neglect to bring my fancy enviro-saks to the grocery store. I am pretty good about bringing them to Ralph's (how appropriate!) when I go to cash in my CRV bottles.

So when I started getting sick 3 weeks ago, I had a fairly good size bag of plastic sacks -- enough to distribute to the two vehicles and my TimBuk2... and now I'm really running low. So much so that I'm looking in cabinets around the kitchen for a few strays (found three this morning).

If you're reading this, you probably have my home address or at least know how to contact me for it. If you have extra bags around the house, could you please send me some? They'll be light and not cost much to send. I'm not about to go over to the grocery store and dig through the plastic bag recycling basin (though I've seen people do stranger things, I don't want to be that person!), I don't want to walk through the produce section at Whole Paycheck stuffing fruit bags into my pockets or walk into Trader Joe's and demand a stack of fresh plastic bags-- unfair to the bags, a single use? Such a sad life!

My neighbor happens to be pregnant too (a few weeks behind me) so I wouldn't want to take the bags that she might very well need. According to my calculations, I could be doing this sickness thing for another month, so even if you don't get to it today, please think of me when you ask for plastic next time you're at the store... and then run home a pop those suckers in a mailbox. Thanks!

She Can Read!

It's not like the President or even Elmo-- those guys have other people read their mail for them. I'm convinced that despite the hurdles of modern technology (is she a Mac or a PC?),

Mother Nature read my letter! She not only read my letter, but clearly took pity on me because how ELSE would I have managed to sleep through the night last night? It was the first time since Costa Rica (for those of you keeping track, that was Christmas and New Year's) that I slept through the night without interruption. I made it from 10:28pm 'til 7:36am. Woo-hoo!

I was shocked to see that the sun was out! While I'm still tired and certainly not over the nausea, I'll take this as a good first step toward the second trimester.

Today is the beginning of week 10. Let's make it a good one!

A Letter

Dear Mother Nature,
I know you have a sense of humor. Otherwise we wouldn't have the duckbill platypus or the Brazilian tapir. What I'd like to know is, if you like funny things and jokes, why do I have to be beyond miserable for so long!? I pay my taxes, I let old ladies cut in line at the grocery store, I recycle, I give to my local public radio station, I will compost in my new house and I do not believe that the Kardashians are celebrities. I really haven't done anything wrong, so why is this happening to me!? No joke here, just misery. Please please please make it stop!

I have a theory, and I am asking if this has any truth to it: This is to toughen me up.

1. I'm not good with sick people. Let's just say I'm not the friend holding hair back on a bad party night.

2. I've never been very good with kids. I will admit that I was a terrible babysitter and I hated the idea of babysitting. I still shudder to think about it.

3. I gag when I see or hear any signs of vomit, spit-up, phlegm or anything else like that. Just writing about it is making me queasy. 4. I don't get sick, like, ever, so this is your way of getting me to slow down and gestate.

5. You're really cruel and the platypus isn't a joke, it was a mistake.

With the exception of #4, I think they'll still be true during week 14, so why don't we just get this whole nausea-headache-pukie thing over with a little early? Wrap it up? No harm, right? Please?

Today has been a class-A misery date. February 11. Truly a 9 on the morning sickness stage chart. Really unbelievable how it's possible to feel so good one day (yesterday) and so bad the next. I am ready to feel normal now! Please do something to help me. Thanks, Kelly

Fast Food Not-So-Anonymous

I have a problem. I'm willing to admit it, because I seek any creative solution that will help me keep my figure as long as naturally possible.

Here's how it starts: I try to find food I want to eat at Whole Foods. I cruise straight to the veg and fruit and kind of wander around a bit and then I look at the bulk food a little, and make my way past the fish and the wine and beer and then to the beef. There's nothing I want there, either. I go over to the prepared foods, where I stare a little more and then think to myself, "Self, you're running out of options." I don't have a problem looking at the food, but I just don't want any of it.

No, I don't want noodles. Or soup. Or a salad. Or a breakfast burrito or a cinnamon bun. I don't want the fancy pizzas or the pretty orzo salads or the $1.99 latkes. It's really frustrating! So even when I'm trying to find something healthy and (not even necessarily) good for me, none of it is appetizing. And I can usually find something I want to eat, especially at Whole Foods. Nope. Not anymore. It's impossible.

So I go home nearly empty-handed. And I wonder why we don't have anything to eat when I return. I don't pack foodies for little field trips (more than a few hours away from the house) because I don't really want to eat anything. This is where my problems begin. And they usually end at Wendy's.

I will admit it, I'm ok with Wendy's grilled chicken sandwich. And I am really not familiar with fast food menus, but I'm slowly getting better at them because I find myself ready to pull over every once in a while and instead I pull into a drive-thru. After ten minutes and a few bites of sandwich, I generally recover. The funny thing is, I don't even want to eat the sandwich or its hamburger friends, but I go out of desperation. And so far it has worked for me. But what I know these foods are doing to my body doesn't work. So I am taking suggestions. But don't be offended if I don't want to take advice or eat any of your suggested meals, because it's hard enough to find something to eat right now.

No place like...

Since true home is under 2 feet of snow and 3000 miles away, it's not really possible to get there right now (not to mention that plane travel wouldn't be in the "good idea" column right now).. I went to the next best place: Anaheim! No, not Disneyland, better than Disneyland. Rockwell land. Where there's food in abundance and hugs and soft puppies!

Ah, relief (and meat!) I have to hurry off to bed now so that I can dream about this magical place.

Sleepytime

A few weeks ago, I was told by someone close to me that they didn't know anyone else with so much energy. That was a nice compliment and I thought, I will never be slowed down! I am always busy because I CAN be busy. I have lots to do, short time to do it in, Chop, Chop! (This phrase is credited to Mr. Tim Wyatt, #1 WVa Mountaineer)

Wow! What a difference a few weeks makes. Here I am, having done nothing today except vomit, eat a little, gag a little, go for a walk, do some real eating, watch tv, do some more eating, and watch the Super Bowl, and I'm completely exhausted. I would have gone to bed at 7 if I hadn't felt so nauseous. What's wrong with me?

In addition to the extreme sleepiness, once I am asleep, I cannot remember any of my dreams. Nada. I just enter a big, dark, sleepy place. This isn't so bad, but sometimes it's nice to have dreams. I hear pregnant ladies have great dreams! Where are mine? They're trapped in Sleepytime, never to be found.

One observation I have had about my fatigued/sleepy state is that this must be how old or injured people feel. They want to go do something, but their body won't let them. This, in addition to the nausea, because that's sorta a revolt (and revolting!) thing, are the two toughest parts about the experience so far. As an athlete, and one who doesn't get sick or injured much, I am having a hard time with the this. I'm not really in control anymore. Before, I could do anything! Now I can't. And I certainly can't go up a set of stairs without feeling tired. I think about walking a few miles to the gym (since biking on the street is now out) and I know I could make it, but I get tired thinking about making it back home. Aaaahhh! I'm ready to feel normal again now... only, I know that's not going to be happening for a very, very long time.

Goodbye, moto

The moto is gone. I knew it had to be done, but I was reluctant to make the call. What came over me? I've decided it was a combination of guilt for not making it to any of my scheduled volunteer shifts at my local NPR station for the winter drive (www.kcrw.com) and finally admitting that no, I won't be riding it for at least 9 months.

I completed the web form to donate the motorcycle on Thursday and this morning it was gone. Poof! Just like that. No more cruising the streets of Beverly Hills with the smokin' maroon 400CMT. I hadn't ridden it for a long time anyway because people here are crazy drivers and it wasn't really fun unless it was 8am on a Sunday-- and what's fun that early on a Sunday?

Part of me is sad that I won't have it to tinker with (I admit, I didn't do a lot of tinkering, but I felt good when I did get it running after a while of sitting idle). I'm more upset that it's just another little thing that I won't be doing. No trip to India, no motoring, definitely no motoring in India. Arg!

Sweet and cold, I am very pleased with the watermelon I bought on Monday as I frantically ran through Trader Joe's hoping to be inspired. So far today, so good.

Sophie!

Here she is... the glorious French teething giraffe. She is the very first baby item in our house! Thank you Aunt Leigh and Uncle Geoffrey. The funny thing is, even as a not-even-novice parent, I know about Sophie. I read about her in the newspaper and HAD to buy one for my youngest nephew. She's one of Amazon.com's top wished for baby gifts and... she's ORGANIC. Sophie traipses around Paris wearing a beret and there are photos of her near the Eiffel Tower. She is only about six inches tall, but she's soft and very cute, and I think she'll be just right for baby teeth to sink into. I'm just wondering, will she teach my baby how to speak French?

Saved by the Chef (Thank Goodness!)

Just as my day was beginning to take the usual afternoon downward spiral, I tried a little nostalgia. First I was going to go for an In-N-Out burger, but as I got closer to the double double I was dreaming about, the flame went out as quickly as it came. So I was driving down Venice Blvd. and decided to go to Albertson's (a grocery or "food" store) and hope for inspiration.

I don't usually find my way to that vast wasteland in the middle of the store unless I need something like cereal, but today I found myself looking at cans of fruit and vegetables, jars of olives, sauerkraut, and lots of things that were a full meal if I would "just add water." Right after the Campbell's soup I found something appetizing. A classic All-American staple food group: Chef Boyardee. Perhaps no other chef is as recognizable, except maybe the Swedish Chef.

This chef's food is MUCH BETTER than whatever the Muppet Chef makes. And he was a real guy! According to the very dependable (and mostly accurate) Wikipedia and the website for the Cleveland Museum of Art, the chef was born in Italy in 1897 and moved to New York in 1914. His name was Ettore [Hector] Boiardi, and he and his wife owned a restaurant in Cleveland (a city known for fine Italian cuisine, no?). Satisfied restaurant customers wanted the chef's recipes and once demand grew, he started to mass-market his sauces and pastas. Unfortunately, some folks out there in Cleveland couldn't pronounce his name properly so once he opened his factory, his pastas became "BoyArDee" to encourage proper pronunciation. And now, 82 years later, we've completely butchered any remaining Italian nuances that might have existed with the BoyArDee spelling. No worry though, I'm almost positive whatever is in these cans isn't Italian either.

I reached for a few and tried to keep in mind that just because I wanted to eat it right then and there, I may very well not be interested at all once I got it all home. I paced myself. A variety of 'pasta' options and I was headed for the checkout.


Not since getting off of bus 135 have I been so excited to use my microwave. I remember the first thing we did with the microwave when we finally got one: we boiled water. It was fascinating. After that first countertop experiment, we branched out to Bagel Bites, Hot Pockets, Mama Celeste pizzas for One, mini egg rolls, and just about anything that could be considered an after school snack. I'm not sure what made me think of Chef Boyardee, but he came to my rescue today. Twice. First I tried the classic Spaghetti-os (now called Spaghetti Rings and Meatballs) and a few hours later I tried what the Chef's people call lasagna. I cannot complain. I haven't felt like running to the bathroom for nearly 4 hours! Yay!

Thank you, Chef Boyardee. I know that there's not much nutritional value to your little microwave snacks, but right now I really don't care.

Worst Day Yet

This is a photo of a place I may never get to see. It's New Delhi. Part of today was bad because I couldn't leave the house. The other part of the day was bad because I got a grim travel report for my much anticipated trip to Southeast Asia: Don't Go.

It's been four months of anticipation. I have my Indian visa, tickets to KL and Delhi, places to stay, and plans to visit wondrous places like the Taj Mahal and a tiger reserve. And now it won't happen... at least not for me, not now.

My sadness comes as I think about how excited I've been to go and see the places I've been reading about since October. It's coupled with the disappointment of knowing I may never get to see where my friends live in Malaysia or the smells of the noodle stalls or the vibrant colors of the fabrics, flowers, buildings, ruins and more. I was told that there's nothing you can do to prepare for the sensory overload... but now I won't even be able to try.

My internist said that there was too great a risk to going and given how miserable I am now, it's totally possible I'd still be miserable when I stepped on a plane for an 18 hour journey in two weeks. Add some travel anxiety about food and drink, and I could be one very unhappy traveler. She went to the CDC website (I'd been on it but opted to ignore it) and talked about typhoid and malaria and all of the precautions I would have to take. Since I have only been eating fruit for the past week, she pointed out the fact that that would be a serious problem (too risky to eat anything sliced or with skin) and apparently pregnant ladies are tastier morsels to mosquitos. So it would be completely possible that I would be miserable and be 9,000 miles from home. Right now it's hard to be miserable and 9 miles from home.

I know it's for my own good-- for the good of the nugget -- but it has made me so truly unhappy that I don't remember being so unhappy. So many nights of losing sleep over all of the things I would see on my trip! I have books and maps and guides and a little binder with my itineraries. Thinking about all of this is hard, but it's even harder to think that I have to tell my friends who are anticipating my presence at their wedding (yes, this will be the first of two big weddings I'm going to miss this year... and I don't get invited to weddings very often). I know that friends understand things like this. I'm just not the type to disappoint and I feel like I'm letting myself down as much as my pals. It's really tough to accept right now but I guess the only thing I can do is look forward to September and hope that it will all be worth it.