Round 2

It's been a while since I've posted anything-- mostly because I'm having mixed feelings about repeating the same news for the 50th, 51st, 52nd... day in a row.

The latest development is that I'm now taking twice as much of the Zofran as I was a week ago. This increase came after a day of endless sickness and general misery, which was Tuesday. When you've vomited between 8 and 10 times in a day and you start to get faint and dizzy, it's time to do something. Time to call in the big guns: IV Fluids.

Since the closest hospital to my house, Cedars-Sinai, doesn't accept my insurance and my last visit cost $700+ (anybody out there keeping a baby cost sheet?), I went over to UCLA, which is about 5 miles from my house. I decided a cab would take too long and I didn't have enough cash to get there, so I drove myself. How sweet that they offer valet parking at the ER! Only in LA!

They saw me after about an hour of waiting. I hadn't tried eating anything before I got there so I wouldn't have to worry about the they-called-your-name-but-you-were-in-the-bathroom problem. I was put in a room with a mural of smiling children holding hands superimposed in front of a satellite image of earth. I sorta wanted a Sharpie so I could give them all devil horns.

Clint joined me and sat in an extra chair in the small room. I told him it would be boring, but he came anyway. Bless. After one whole bag of fluids, I got another. It was rather uneventful, but I really did feel better. Bonus: we got to see the nugget again, and it looked like it was still hanging out in a hammock. It moved around a bit, but I couldn't see it very well on the sorta crummy screen. Apparently, it was fine. However, I was not: I had protein in my pee. Geez! I can't get a break!

These proteins are called ketones, and they're sometimes a sign of being on the Atkins diet. In my case, it was a sign of starvation. These ketones are potentially dangerous to the fetus, so the nurses and doctors encourage you to drink more and eat carbohydrates so that they go away. I'll find out tomorrow if they're gone. It was a little scary to think that all of this sickness has finally caught up with me and is potentially causing harm to the nugget. The nurse taking care of me, whose name was Shannon (and she looked like Molly Shannon!) said I looked "stoned" but Clint assured her that I was just tired. After all, I hadn't left the ER for three hours. My blood pressure was super low, but I was sent on my way anyway, armed with a new Rx for Zofran that dissolves so that I don't have the challenge of swallowing it with liquid. That night, I went home and hunkered down.

I've done my best since then to drink more-- but even with twice as much Zofran, I've still been getting sick so I know that I'm not close to relief. I have activities on my calendar this week (It's week 14! I was/am? an optimist!) and I think I'll be canceling them tomorrow. Oh well, time to start another week. Second trimester, her we come.

Extra Arms (or Legs)

I got this sweet octopus card in the mail today. It's from a thoughtful sister with impeccable taste in stationary. I always get nice cards from Canada. They still use the real post there!

The card got me thinking: It'd be nice to have 8 arms/legs right now so that I would have a few extra to hold my hair back when I'm sick. Instead, I have to hastily put it up as I scoot to the bathroom. Over the past 46 days, I've seriously considered cutting it at least three times. I've been growing it for more than a year so that I can donate it to Locks of Love or a similar program, and it's long enough to donate now. But I'm not sure it's the right time. Each time I think about it, I eventually have to ask myself, Is now really the right time to get my hair cut like Mia Farrow in Rosemary's Baby?

I would like to have short hair again, but I'm not so sure now's the right time to be scissor happy. I've had short hair before. I like it. It suits me fine. It's easier to maintain and it certainly doesn't get caught in zippers or require much grooming. I considered it again this weekend as I was watching The Sound of Music-- Julie Andrews looks great! Maria's hair is probably more like the length I'd go for, but it's still SHORT. I decided that I have to think about what I'll look like 6 months from now and consider that in addition to the weight I hope to gain back (I'm still down 8 -- today it was 9-- pounds from the start of this adventure), I should gain more as well, which will likely not be judicious in weight disbursement. Meaning, I might be waiting for my double chin to come in. I'll need some hair to cover that up, right? Maybe make me a little slimmer? I will need to hide behind something and have a distraction that's bigger than the belly I'll be sporting soon.

I'm not planning on going Cousin Itt on anyone, but I think I should keep the long hair at least 'til it's too long to stand any longer and then I can get it cut to a medium length and skip the inevitable comparisons to leading ladies with short hair. In the meantime, I will continue to hastily bundle up my hair as I scurry to the bathroom on my inevitable trips.

Thanks for the octopus, Lig!

Please send me an avatar

Day 41 of constant nausea. Time for something drastic. I'd like to request an avatar. I keep getting asked if I need anything. Other than a lobotomy, I would settle for being a giant blue alien for the remaining weeks of this sickness, or even the rest of the pregnancy. That'd be fine. Really, I would rather be twelve feet tall and able to ride an ikran that be who/what I currently am, which is a nausea and gestation vessel. I don't think being a Na'vi would be all that bad right now. And unless that crazy Colonel Quaritch is around to cause problems, Pandora would be a nice place to spend the next six and a half months, no?

Tuesday! Not Monday anymore!

Today is week 12, day 3. I weigh a respectable 153, which is still less than I was when I started this adventure, but I'll take 153 over 148, which is where I was just a week and a half ago. All of my trousers are still fitting, and some are even loose. I look totally normal, and I'm not one to prance around in tight little tank tops, so don't come here cruisin' for week-by-week photos. There won't be any.

I spent most of my morning in Sleepytown, where I had some strange dreams and finally rose around 10, thinking, "It's past lunchtime in Washington..." Checking the time on the east coast is something I do regularly, sorta to check on my productivity. This thought was personal code for, "You're being lazy!"

However late it was, I think that the long rest actually helped me have a decent day. I managed to go to meet someone I never met before and not vomit on them. In fact, I didn't feel lousy until after the meeting. And because I had packed my snacks ahead of time and even made time to get a ginger stash before I went to the meeting, I felt pretty decent through the entire 8 mile ride home. I even drank orange juice! I felt like oj, so I bought some when I picked up my Rx. This is the first time I've given in to the oj desire, though I've had it for a few days and was wary of the acidity. Last time I tried eating a grapefruit, things didn't go very well.

I decided pulp free would be a good compromise, and I was overjoyed when I drank nearly a half a gallon of the stuff this afternoon. Yay! Is the end near? I'm not pushing my luck. Check back in a few days. I'll keep you posted.

March Madness

It's March! Week twelve is underway, meaning I'm another day closer to the second trimester. But after the past three hours, I'm reminded that means absolutely nothing.

I had a record day yesterday -- no vomiting! Nausea, yes. But I saw not vomiting as a good sign-- possibly the beginning of a turnaround. Unfortunately, I was sorely mistaken. That optimism swiftly disappeared this morning at 5:30. And again at 6:15, 7 and 7:45. All of the fluid replenishment I managed to do yesterday is probably gone by now, so I've begun another slow climb back toward hydration.

I'm ticking off the things that aren't working today: Ginger Ale, Jell-o and Gatorade so far. I'm just trying old fashioned water right now and hoping for the best.

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.