"The more I see the less I know."
That was a saying I heard very often throughout my childhood. Like many other sayings ("fallen from grace", "many hands make light work", "have your cake and eat it too") it suddenly became very clear to me one day what that meant. I can't remember the circumstances under which I had that realization, but I remember it just dawned on me like, "oh... THIS is what that means!"
This is kind of how I feel right now. The more I learn, the more questions I ask, the more information I receive.. the less I know. There is just SO MUCH conflicting information!! Everywhere I look! Or information that advocates for one thing but puts unhelpful restrictions on it in the next breath. Some examples of these are:
"Exercise is good during pregnancy. Beware of not exercising too much." Okay.. first of all, what does that even mean?? I understand that most of this information is written for people who don't have eating disorders and struggle with overexercising... but still! Vague much? Most people don't have any idea how much exercise is right for them even when they aren't pregnant, much less when they are! Ultimately I know that the thing to do is "ask your doctor, ask your doctor, ask your doctor." But it would be nice if the info could make a little more sense when standing alone.
"Pregnant women need 300-400 extra calories per day." "The recommended intake is 2500-2700 calories per day." I know I wrote a blog post on this before, I think very early April or late March, can't remember which. Those two statements do not really go together! As I put it in the aforementioned post, in what universe is 2100-2300 the daily RDA of calories for an average, non pregnant woman? I just don't get it.
"Fish is great to eat during pregnancy - very healthy." "Do not eat too much fish because it has mercury." Or, as the nurse who did my prenatal class pronounced it, "merk-err-ee." Well, if you read a bit farther, you'll see that it does say that not all fish has as high amounts of merk-err-ee as tuna does. But even within that realm I'm finding information that is way off. Some say eat tuna once per week. Some say eat it once per month! Well, which is it?? To be safe, I'm just not eating it at all!
Here's one that was actually said TO ME (as opposed to reading it in literature or on the internet.)
Naturopath: Take melatonin. It's fine as long as you only take 3mg. Don't take diphenhydramine, it could damage the fetus.
......Four days later....
Obstetrician: Don't take melatonin. Studies have linked it to birth defects. Take diphenhydramine instead, there have been no proven links between that and birth defects.
This one drives me CRAZY!!!!!! I need to take a crazy concoction of medications to sleep at night. I've never been good at it! I was on klonopin and amitriptylene BOTH for sleep, and I still had to take 6mg of melatonin, 2 Calm CP, 3 Kavinace AND Advil PM to sleep. Now I only take the Calm CP, Kavinace and melatonin/diphenhydramine. Lately I haven't been taking melatonin, but diphenhydramine instead. It's not that I don't trust my ND - but my OB does ONLY this (and by "this" I mean see pregnant women.) It would be so nice if my doctors' advice could match up just once!
And furthermore on the topic of "the more I see the less I know," the more changes I see in my body, the less I know what the hell is going on. I mean, of course I KNOW why my pants don't fit anymore. I know what it means to be pregnant! I know what is going to happen. But I'm having a hard time getting my head around it.
The other night (Monday) I went to Hardcore, where I teach Zumba, but my friend L was covering that class for me. Anyway, she invited me to do a song or two up on the stage. When it was my turn, I went up... and I was HORRIFIED by the sight of myself! I was wearing a tight-ish shirt, which might have seemed stupid. The reason I wore that was because every time I go to Hardcore, the Zumba ladies all want to see my "baby bump" (which is hardly there, but they think it's cute.) So I usually end up having to hold my shirt tight against my body so they can see it. So I figured I'd just wear a tighter shirt so they could all see it and get over it! Big mistake.
Anyway, I feel like a cow all over. I'm sure nobody really noticed, except for maybe my stomach but that's just because they're looking for it, and that's fine. But I was so grossed out!!! My eating disorder brain was like, "UGH! GROSS!!! You need to WORK OUT!!!! Look at that! What a disgrace!" And I'm like, "wait a minute, wait a minute! I'm pregnant! There's a difference!" But what can I do? I can't get that voice to shut up. And ever since that night I'm terrified to eat anything. Don't worry - I eat anyway. But it's so difficult! And that voice has been going "you need to go for a walk... just for an hour... maybe go to the gym later... or go to Zumba..." Omg omg omg.
As soon as I'm done typing this entry, I'm going to call the phone number that is on the paper next to me and ask my insurance what nutritionists they cover in my area. After that, I'm going to email my therapist. Apparently, I cannot do this on my own. But hey, I made it to 10 and a half weeks without much ED chatter. That's a pretty damn good start. :)
Happy 10th Birthday MEAN GIRLS! "On wednesdays, we wear PINK!" :) XOXOXOXO
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Saturday, April 26, 2014
Rough Day - Feeling Better
Yesterday was the day (one of many to come I'm sure) that shit got REAL! I was unpacking the last few boxes of my clothes in the middle of the day, and I came across ALL my pairs of jeans. I haven't put on a pair of jeans since before I discovered I was pregnant, 1 month and 2 days ago. I already thought they were fitting tighter (which scared the shit out of me) so I just didn't dare go near them anymore.
So here I am, sitting on the floor of the bedroom, faced with 4 or 5 pairs of jeans. Probably what I should have done was just put them all away immediately. Either into storage or just throw them out. But I didn't. I picked the biggest pair I had and tried to put them on. I just HAD to know! I was hoping they'd still fit because I'm so sick of wearing sweatpants and Zumba pants all the time.
Well... they fit... kind of! They fit fine in the legs but the waist was too tight. Surprise! I could button them, but barely. So I sighed, took them off, folded them up and put them in a separate bag. And promptly lost my shit. I haven't cried that hard in a long time. Still, I made myself go through all my jeans and shorts and throw away the ones I won't wear again (either because they're out of style or I just can't stomach the thought of trying them on again and again.. and not fitting into them.)
See, the thing is.. I know that childbirth can change your BONE structure in your pelvis. It doesn't necessarily, but it can. It can widen your bones. They spread apart to let the child pass. Which is probably one of the coolest things the body (sometimes) does! It also changes the way you fit into pants. I am NOT SAYING that wider pelvic bones = fat! That is not what I believe. I just know that it might happen to me and the pants that fit me so great before might never fit me again. But they might fit me again! No way to know but to wait and see. So I threw away some jeans and kept some others. Same with shorts.
Today I feel better. Still very scary to think about what is going on with my body, and what is to come. But at the end of the day I don't have a choice but to keep going, right? Losing weight is not an option. Restricting is not an option. My eating disorder is LOUD and ANGRY in my head, but it can just stay there and not come out until after this baby is born, or maybe never at all.
I am not opposed to my eating disorder going away. Not really, anyway. Of course there is part of me that would like to hang on to it, but I'm not going to beg it to stay. It's already abundantly clear to me that I am able to make these changes when a little tiny fetus is depending on it. Why that little fetus is more deserving of it than I alone am, I do not know. But hey, it's a start right?
My little fetus is 10 weeks old today :) How cute!
So here I am, sitting on the floor of the bedroom, faced with 4 or 5 pairs of jeans. Probably what I should have done was just put them all away immediately. Either into storage or just throw them out. But I didn't. I picked the biggest pair I had and tried to put them on. I just HAD to know! I was hoping they'd still fit because I'm so sick of wearing sweatpants and Zumba pants all the time.
Well... they fit... kind of! They fit fine in the legs but the waist was too tight. Surprise! I could button them, but barely. So I sighed, took them off, folded them up and put them in a separate bag. And promptly lost my shit. I haven't cried that hard in a long time. Still, I made myself go through all my jeans and shorts and throw away the ones I won't wear again (either because they're out of style or I just can't stomach the thought of trying them on again and again.. and not fitting into them.)
See, the thing is.. I know that childbirth can change your BONE structure in your pelvis. It doesn't necessarily, but it can. It can widen your bones. They spread apart to let the child pass. Which is probably one of the coolest things the body (sometimes) does! It also changes the way you fit into pants. I am NOT SAYING that wider pelvic bones = fat! That is not what I believe. I just know that it might happen to me and the pants that fit me so great before might never fit me again. But they might fit me again! No way to know but to wait and see. So I threw away some jeans and kept some others. Same with shorts.
Today I feel better. Still very scary to think about what is going on with my body, and what is to come. But at the end of the day I don't have a choice but to keep going, right? Losing weight is not an option. Restricting is not an option. My eating disorder is LOUD and ANGRY in my head, but it can just stay there and not come out until after this baby is born, or maybe never at all.
I am not opposed to my eating disorder going away. Not really, anyway. Of course there is part of me that would like to hang on to it, but I'm not going to beg it to stay. It's already abundantly clear to me that I am able to make these changes when a little tiny fetus is depending on it. Why that little fetus is more deserving of it than I alone am, I do not know. But hey, it's a start right?
My little fetus is 10 weeks old today :) How cute!
Thursday, April 24, 2014
One Month
One month ago today, I found out I was pregnant. Am pregnant. Am I? This spotting and cramping has been going on for 2 straight days! What the hell?? I had a stellar ultrasound on Monday, and now this? I cannot keep up.
Yesterday, when driving home from my mom's house, I had an incipient panic attack in my car. I was hyperventilating, sobbing, gripping the steering wheel, dizzy... it was terrifying! My panic was making me panic more! I made myself breathe as deeply as I could. I fished my giant 1 liter water bottle out of my bag and took a few sips at a stoplight. Eventually, the panic subsided and I made it home fine.
But that was only the first of a few freak-outs last night. The second one happened in the shower! Crying in the shower is a weird feeling. I never knew how hot my tears were until the outside of my body was wet and I could feel the hot tears IN my eyes... do I sound crazy? LOL! Anyway!
This morning I woke up at 7:00am on the dot. Well, actually, I had been waking up on and off since about 4:00am because my dear husband was snoring and farting up a storm. But at 7 I woke up and just knew I wouldn't be getting back to sleep. I got up, went pee (check for blood), laid in bed for another 45 minutes playing on my phone, then went downstairs to feed the dogs.
I had 5 cubes of watermelon for breakfast. I actually put 6 cubes in my bowl but I didn't want to finish them. Then I took my prenatal vitamins and DHA and B Complex. Big mistake to do that on only watermelon. The nausea came almost right away. I ate a piece of 80 cal toast with almond butter on it and felt better.
The cramping is a little better, I guess...? It's just so hard to be in pain constantly. Not to mention not knowing what the hell is going on in there. The spotting seems to be improving, but we'll see.
I have a massive to-do list that has accumulated over the last 2 days. Bank, Target, grocery store, post office... etc. It's 9:42am... this shit isn't going to take care of itself!
Check out my 2 part Pregnancy and Anorexia Q&A Videos on YouTube:
CLICK HERE for part 1
CLICK HERE for part 2
happy Thursday! :)
Yesterday, when driving home from my mom's house, I had an incipient panic attack in my car. I was hyperventilating, sobbing, gripping the steering wheel, dizzy... it was terrifying! My panic was making me panic more! I made myself breathe as deeply as I could. I fished my giant 1 liter water bottle out of my bag and took a few sips at a stoplight. Eventually, the panic subsided and I made it home fine.
But that was only the first of a few freak-outs last night. The second one happened in the shower! Crying in the shower is a weird feeling. I never knew how hot my tears were until the outside of my body was wet and I could feel the hot tears IN my eyes... do I sound crazy? LOL! Anyway!
This morning I woke up at 7:00am on the dot. Well, actually, I had been waking up on and off since about 4:00am because my dear husband was snoring and farting up a storm. But at 7 I woke up and just knew I wouldn't be getting back to sleep. I got up, went pee (check for blood), laid in bed for another 45 minutes playing on my phone, then went downstairs to feed the dogs.
I had 5 cubes of watermelon for breakfast. I actually put 6 cubes in my bowl but I didn't want to finish them. Then I took my prenatal vitamins and DHA and B Complex. Big mistake to do that on only watermelon. The nausea came almost right away. I ate a piece of 80 cal toast with almond butter on it and felt better.
The cramping is a little better, I guess...? It's just so hard to be in pain constantly. Not to mention not knowing what the hell is going on in there. The spotting seems to be improving, but we'll see.
I have a massive to-do list that has accumulated over the last 2 days. Bank, Target, grocery store, post office... etc. It's 9:42am... this shit isn't going to take care of itself!
Check out my 2 part Pregnancy and Anorexia Q&A Videos on YouTube:
CLICK HERE for part 1
CLICK HERE for part 2
happy Thursday! :)
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
I'm Back!
We moved on 4/19. I LOVE MY HOUSE!!!! Sorry if this is a discombobulated entry. Things are crazy right now. My dogs are running like mad around the house, licking every single thing in sight, smacking, smacking, smacking endlessly, making me want to cry. We finally just got internet, so I can finally post again. My phone and blogger were not the best of friends lol.
Yesterday and today I've been having cramping and spotting again. I called the OB Advice Nurse this morning and she said she thinks it's (sorry, this is gross) constipation. Apparently being constipated can cause pressure and therefore spotting, as well as cramping. I don't know. We'll see. She's going to run it by the on-call doctor and call me back. In the meantime, she told me to drink tons of water, eat prunes, fruit (except bananas) and veggies to get fiber. Okay, sure.
As I'm dealing with all this, Jax has decided to take it upon himself to chew up everything he can find. The last few days of this saw the sacrifice of numerous receipts, an incense holder, a flip-flop, two placemats, a bottle of lotion, a candle, some figurines, one of my paychecks, a roll of paper towels and several pens. I don't know how he gets this stuff! My paycheck was sitting in my purse which was on the kitchen table, three feet in the air! He's like fucking Houdini. What a pain. Good thing he's cute!
Yesterday, I had my 9 week ultrasound. It looked great! The baby is as big as a gummy bear and was doing what the tech called the "gummy bear dance." It was literally dancing! So cute. It moved it's little arms and kicked it's little legs. I announced it on facebook on Monday. I know, I know, it's early. And I wouldn't have posted it so soon except that most people knew anyway because of my absence from Zumba, which had to be explained somehow, so I decided honesty was the best policy. Since roughly half of my facebook friends are from Zumba anyway, it seemed pretty pointless to keep it a secret any longer. It would be the cruelest thing ever if fate let me miscarry NOW, two days after I posted it on facebook. I'm not entirely convinced I'm miscarrying, though. I do feel better today.
I think part of the problem is that moving my hips a bunch (like I do in Zumba, even though I'm not teaching) is causing a problem. This is REALLY a problem! How am I going to go back and teach in the end of May like I'm supposed to if I can't move my hips? Ugh. Pressure and stress!!! I need to keep calm because stress and fetuses do not go well together. I'm trying. I'm trying.
Another little piece of good news for you guys - I have almond butter in my house and I haven't had a problem with it (yet, knock on wood!) If it gets to be too overwhelming, I can take it to Corky at work. But so far so good.
Okay, I have to go. I have a To-Do list a mile long today. :) Have a great Wednesday! Xoxoxo
Friday, April 18, 2014
Now I Know!
As a person who has had anorexia for just about half my life, it's easy for me to forget how "normal" people react to food, or lack of it. Or, if not forget, then just to not understand. What do you mean you NEED food? Who NEEDS food?? What does that mean, to NEED food? Those words don't have any meaning to me. Or they didn't, anyway, until today!
Growing up, my dad and I were very similar in regards to food. Even pre-anorexia, I was never the kind of person who would get cranky, tired, shaky or dizzy when I was hungry. My dad is the same. We could go all day, being busy, and legitimately forget to eat. My dad is a busy attorney and doesn't always have time for lunch or snacks. Sometimes he'll eat at his desk. Sip a smoothie or pick at a fruit salad while on the phone. Other times he'll just go without, and eat later on. Same with water. If he was busy and didn't have time to go get a bottle of water, he'd just wait and get one later when he had a minute. In 2009 he had a kidney transplant, so since then he's been required to drink X amount of water every day, so now he keeps water bottles with him at all times. But the food is the same. He eats when he can.
I was just like my dad in that regard. Always busy, working on something, playing, doing sports, too busy to eat. It wasn't until I developed anorexia in my teens that I even really gave much thought to food, in a positive or negative way. It wasn't until I was starving that I became aware of, even obsessed with, food.
My mom and my sister, on the other hand, were the opposite. My sister would get shaky, tired and dizzy if she went more than a few hours without a snack. My mom, too. I can always tell when she's hungry or thirsty, because we'll be in the car or wherever and she just starts yawning uncontrollably, again and again. Give her some food and she perks right up. I remember her telling me one time, "Hannah and I are very food-dependent. You and dad aren't." I can't remember why she said that at the time. Probably because she and my sister had to stop and eat and I was annoyed. Oops!
Another memory I have is when I was 19, starving to death, I was in the car with my mom and sister in the middle of the day. My sister had some kind of vision doctor appointment that my mom was taking her to. She had to get Hannah out of school for it, right at lunch time. I was in the throes of anorexia. It was about October or November of 2006. My sister brought her school lunch in the car. It was PIZZA! Oh.. the smell! The smell of cheese and pepperoni and crust... it was more than I could bear. I remember crying in the car, yelling at my mom, "Why didn't you make her eat at school? Why are you doing this to me??" Poor Hannah just stared down at her tray in her lap in the backseat. She was all of 10 years old. She offered me a bite of pizza and I yelled at her. I feel bad about it now. But I was determined NOT to be food-dependent like Hannah and my mom were.
And I wasn't! I always prided myself on my ability to just wait, to just not eat until later. Sure it made me cranky, nauseous, tired, dizzy and cold, but that was because I was eating literally NOTHING, not because I was taking too long between meals. That seemed so weak, so gluttonous to me at the time. But now I cannot think that about myself anymore... I have learned!
I ate breakfast this morning at 8:00am. A bowl of cheerios and a small banana. I used 1% milk which, if you know me, is a huge thing! For me to drink anything except for skim is a pretty big deal. Anyway, I left the house at 9:50am to go to my Zumba class that my friend is subbing. While I drove there, I called my mom to see if she wanted to go to Starbucks with me afterward. I was jonesin for a decaf, nonfat caramel macchiato (hush, I get them like once a month! lol.) She said she was going to Wilsonville to help assemble some project for a group she's in, and asked if I wanted to go along and help. I said sure, changed my plans, and went with her.
Well, as often happens with my mom, things took way longer than anticipated. By the time I looked my mom in the eye and said, "I need to go... NOW!" it was past 1:00pm and I hadn't eaten anything since my cheerios! I had been doing so well feeding my little kidney bean regularly that I hadn't found myself in a situation like this until today! Oh my... what an eye-opening experience it was!
I was cranky, nauseous, tired, shaky and freezing. Feels actually like anorexia, really! Don't get me wrong.. I'm not saying that I'm never again going to think to myself "I don't need food." I'm sure I'll think that, eventually, after this kid is born. My eating disorder is not gone, it's just suppressed right now. But this morning I was not thinking "I need food," I was thinking, "This fetus needs food!" Somehow, that was acceptable. Why is that more acceptable than ME needing food? I have no idea. I never said it made any sense!
But now I know what that feels like! After all this time, I finally was educated in that. Nothing that a little yogurt & granola thing from Starbucks couldn't fix. I'm all good now! But I'm learning every single day. What an interesting experience this will be by the time it's all over!!! Maybe I should write a book, LOL!
happy friday! xoxoxoxo :)
Growing up, my dad and I were very similar in regards to food. Even pre-anorexia, I was never the kind of person who would get cranky, tired, shaky or dizzy when I was hungry. My dad is the same. We could go all day, being busy, and legitimately forget to eat. My dad is a busy attorney and doesn't always have time for lunch or snacks. Sometimes he'll eat at his desk. Sip a smoothie or pick at a fruit salad while on the phone. Other times he'll just go without, and eat later on. Same with water. If he was busy and didn't have time to go get a bottle of water, he'd just wait and get one later when he had a minute. In 2009 he had a kidney transplant, so since then he's been required to drink X amount of water every day, so now he keeps water bottles with him at all times. But the food is the same. He eats when he can.
I was just like my dad in that regard. Always busy, working on something, playing, doing sports, too busy to eat. It wasn't until I developed anorexia in my teens that I even really gave much thought to food, in a positive or negative way. It wasn't until I was starving that I became aware of, even obsessed with, food.
My mom and my sister, on the other hand, were the opposite. My sister would get shaky, tired and dizzy if she went more than a few hours without a snack. My mom, too. I can always tell when she's hungry or thirsty, because we'll be in the car or wherever and she just starts yawning uncontrollably, again and again. Give her some food and she perks right up. I remember her telling me one time, "Hannah and I are very food-dependent. You and dad aren't." I can't remember why she said that at the time. Probably because she and my sister had to stop and eat and I was annoyed. Oops!
Another memory I have is when I was 19, starving to death, I was in the car with my mom and sister in the middle of the day. My sister had some kind of vision doctor appointment that my mom was taking her to. She had to get Hannah out of school for it, right at lunch time. I was in the throes of anorexia. It was about October or November of 2006. My sister brought her school lunch in the car. It was PIZZA! Oh.. the smell! The smell of cheese and pepperoni and crust... it was more than I could bear. I remember crying in the car, yelling at my mom, "Why didn't you make her eat at school? Why are you doing this to me??" Poor Hannah just stared down at her tray in her lap in the backseat. She was all of 10 years old. She offered me a bite of pizza and I yelled at her. I feel bad about it now. But I was determined NOT to be food-dependent like Hannah and my mom were.
And I wasn't! I always prided myself on my ability to just wait, to just not eat until later. Sure it made me cranky, nauseous, tired, dizzy and cold, but that was because I was eating literally NOTHING, not because I was taking too long between meals. That seemed so weak, so gluttonous to me at the time. But now I cannot think that about myself anymore... I have learned!
I ate breakfast this morning at 8:00am. A bowl of cheerios and a small banana. I used 1% milk which, if you know me, is a huge thing! For me to drink anything except for skim is a pretty big deal. Anyway, I left the house at 9:50am to go to my Zumba class that my friend is subbing. While I drove there, I called my mom to see if she wanted to go to Starbucks with me afterward. I was jonesin for a decaf, nonfat caramel macchiato (hush, I get them like once a month! lol.) She said she was going to Wilsonville to help assemble some project for a group she's in, and asked if I wanted to go along and help. I said sure, changed my plans, and went with her.
Well, as often happens with my mom, things took way longer than anticipated. By the time I looked my mom in the eye and said, "I need to go... NOW!" it was past 1:00pm and I hadn't eaten anything since my cheerios! I had been doing so well feeding my little kidney bean regularly that I hadn't found myself in a situation like this until today! Oh my... what an eye-opening experience it was!
I was cranky, nauseous, tired, shaky and freezing. Feels actually like anorexia, really! Don't get me wrong.. I'm not saying that I'm never again going to think to myself "I don't need food." I'm sure I'll think that, eventually, after this kid is born. My eating disorder is not gone, it's just suppressed right now. But this morning I was not thinking "I need food," I was thinking, "This fetus needs food!" Somehow, that was acceptable. Why is that more acceptable than ME needing food? I have no idea. I never said it made any sense!
But now I know what that feels like! After all this time, I finally was educated in that. Nothing that a little yogurt & granola thing from Starbucks couldn't fix. I'm all good now! But I'm learning every single day. What an interesting experience this will be by the time it's all over!!! Maybe I should write a book, LOL!
happy friday! xoxoxoxo :)
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Signed!
This morning Corky and I went to Fidelity National Title Company and signed a humongous stack of papers. It's official - we get the keys tomorrow and move in this weekend! FINALLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I've been itching to get out of this condo for over a year!
It's not that it's so very bad, where we live now. It's just... cramped. And there's no storage. And you can't access the house directly from the garage. #Firstworldproblems, I know, I know. But at any rate, this new house will be much better.
And have I mentioned lately how much I hate hate hate packing?? It's like no matter how many boxes I fill and seal up with packing tape and write on with sharpie, the amount of clutter and crap in my house never decreases. By the way, it's nearly impossible to keep a house tidy while packing. You just cannot do it. The whole wall where my sliding glass door is located looks like a very complicated Jenga puzzle.
I still need to pack:
-My closet
-Both bathrooms
-The guest bedroom bookshelves
-The whole kitchen (dishes, baking stuff, pots, pans, etc.)
-The entire garage
But fortunately, I have already done:
-Half the kitchen
-The guest bedroom closet
-The downstairs closet
-The shoe rack
-The two junk drawers
-All the books and DVDs from downstairs
So that's something, right? It's a start! Just keep going, one box at a time.
Now.. the pregnancy. Everything is going okay, I think. Eating has become a major chore most of the time. I just don't even want to think about food. However, my best times of day are usually between 10am and 2pm. So I can usually eat okay between those times. Before 10am and after 2pm, it's up in the air. I'm not throwing up, thank god! I hate throwing up! But I generally feel nauseous, headachy, exhausted and pissy. How lovely, right?
But oh, let me tell you... the worst part about this? You may expect me to say "the weight gain." Well yes, that IS hard. But right now the hardest thing is THE INSOMNIA! Why is it that when my body is trying to literally grow another human, I cannot sleep? All I need is to rest and recharge.. but no! My body is like "nope... we are going to stay awake forEVER!" I've slept about 3 and a half hours total over the past 2 nights. Oh my word, I cannot keep going like this. It's cruel. Take a person like me with a pretty quick temper in the first place, set my hormones all out of whack, make me retain water, give me some headaches, aggravate my ED with inevitable weight gain, add some nausea, taste/smell aversions and weird cravings, deprive me of nearly all my sleep and THEN tell me I can't have caffeine......... someone is going to lose their head! LOL!
It's not that it's so very bad, where we live now. It's just... cramped. And there's no storage. And you can't access the house directly from the garage. #Firstworldproblems, I know, I know. But at any rate, this new house will be much better.
And have I mentioned lately how much I hate hate hate packing?? It's like no matter how many boxes I fill and seal up with packing tape and write on with sharpie, the amount of clutter and crap in my house never decreases. By the way, it's nearly impossible to keep a house tidy while packing. You just cannot do it. The whole wall where my sliding glass door is located looks like a very complicated Jenga puzzle.
I still need to pack:
-My closet
-Both bathrooms
-The guest bedroom bookshelves
-The whole kitchen (dishes, baking stuff, pots, pans, etc.)
-The entire garage
But fortunately, I have already done:
-Half the kitchen
-The guest bedroom closet
-The downstairs closet
-The shoe rack
-The two junk drawers
-All the books and DVDs from downstairs
So that's something, right? It's a start! Just keep going, one box at a time.
Now.. the pregnancy. Everything is going okay, I think. Eating has become a major chore most of the time. I just don't even want to think about food. However, my best times of day are usually between 10am and 2pm. So I can usually eat okay between those times. Before 10am and after 2pm, it's up in the air. I'm not throwing up, thank god! I hate throwing up! But I generally feel nauseous, headachy, exhausted and pissy. How lovely, right?
But oh, let me tell you... the worst part about this? You may expect me to say "the weight gain." Well yes, that IS hard. But right now the hardest thing is THE INSOMNIA! Why is it that when my body is trying to literally grow another human, I cannot sleep? All I need is to rest and recharge.. but no! My body is like "nope... we are going to stay awake forEVER!" I've slept about 3 and a half hours total over the past 2 nights. Oh my word, I cannot keep going like this. It's cruel. Take a person like me with a pretty quick temper in the first place, set my hormones all out of whack, make me retain water, give me some headaches, aggravate my ED with inevitable weight gain, add some nausea, taste/smell aversions and weird cravings, deprive me of nearly all my sleep and THEN tell me I can't have caffeine......... someone is going to lose their head! LOL!
Monday, April 14, 2014
The Definition of "Torn"
***Note: If you have negative thoughts about this post, you can post them in the comments, but don't be vulgar about it, or tell me I'm a horrible person. I will delete comments like that. If you don't have anything civil to say, don't say anything. Thank you!!! Warnings: trigger, controversy. Are you surprised, really? Lol!
Generally speaking, I believe we all do the best we can all the time. I don't mean that we never make a bad choice or a mistake - we ALL do. We lie when we know we shouldn't. We tell people "no" when we should really say "yes." We procrastinate. We skip stuff. That's not what I mean. I mean that on the whole we all do the best we can with what we have. The little day-to-day stuff isn't so significant, really.
My little fetus is 8 weeks and 2 days "old." (Hard to say "old" when it isn't born, but I did call it a fetus, not a baby so... you get the idea! Lol.) And man.. let me tell you... #pregnantanorexic is a FUCKING hard thing to be!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I invented that hashtag the other day. Well, it may already be invented somewhere but.. I conjured it up in my brain.
I am going to tell you how I physically feel:
I feel fat. Like I mentioned in a previous post, anyone who tries to tell you "fat is not a feeling" is dead wrong. It IS a feeling. It's a physical feeling and an emotional feeling, although I'm talking purely physical right now. I feel jiggly. Whenever I move, I can feel my fat jiggling underneath my skin. Everywhere. When I'm driving and I go over a bump in the road, I can feel it. When I take a step, I can feel it. When I bend over to pick something up, I can feel it. When I just EXIST I can feel it. I know that this is because my body is used to working out so much, and now I cannot work out to the level that it's used to. I am just hoping hoping hoping that my body can compensate. Also, my freaking boobs are getting bigger every single day! EEK! Haha.
I feel dense. My midsection feels boggy, heavy, sloshy and solid. It feels like my uterus is a sponge that is full of jello. I feel blood gathering there. I know that it is growing, making room for my fetus to grow and grow. The blood is there to insulate the fetus. To make sure that energy goes there to help it. I am okay with this dense feeling. It's weird, but it does not bother me very much.
I feel tired. So unbelievably tired! It's absolutely crazy. I am a person who never ever ever takes naps except when I'm sick, and then only rarely. Yesterday I slept for about an hour! I never do that! Various times throughout the day, my eyelids will just get heavy. They won't stay open no matter what I do. Usually I can remedy that by sitting down, reading a book, reading a blog, watching a show on my phone or something for about 30-45 minutes. Occasionally, though, I can't stay awake. Like yesterday, for example. It's a very weird feeling. Despite my body working so hard to grow this little creature, I don't sleep well at night.
I feel nauseated. Not all the time, thank goodness! But periodically throughout the day I'll feel it. Nothing too bad, and usually eating a little something (like a few saltine crackers or an apple) will take care of it. However, I've been told it can get worse after the 8th week, so we'll see! I'm on my way to 9 weeks now.
(This one is a gross one, sorry, but I'm being totally honest with you here) I feel super backed up. Iron pills... yay constipation! Miralax... you were my only hope! But you are failing me!! Lol. Let's face it - I never had the greatest digestion even before pregnancy and iron pills. I'm totally fucked now!
Those are the basics of how I physically feel right now. Mentally and emotionally is a whole different story! Now I will tell you how I emotionally feel:
I feel sad. This was interesting, I was totally intending to write "scared" right there, but my fingers typed "sad" without permission. So, sad it is! I feel sad because my body was so.... much better. Now I just feel like a whale. I guess this goes back to the first one I listed under physical - fat. I do feel sad. I am grieving the way I looked just a month ago, or 2 months ago. But I know this is only temporary and it will be so worth it. I wish the computer had a thing where I could plug a cord into my brain and into the computer so it could put my feelings into words. To make you understand how incredibly HARD this is!!! Also, I feel sad because my hormones are crazy! I'll suddenly just start crying out of nowhere! Also, I am sad because a part of my life is over. I can never go back. But I'm not actually so very sad about that... even if I weren't pregnant now, I still could never go back!
I feel scared. There we go. Scared. I am scared that I will gain a ton of weight. I am scared that I'll never get my body back again. I am scared that I will be unable to teach Zumba again after giving birth because of my hugeness. I am scared that childbirth will hurt a lot. Let me rephrase that, I am scared because I KNOW that childbirth will hurt a lot. I am scared still that something will happen to this fetus! I am scared that I won't be a good mom, even though I think I will. I am scared that the baby will be born with some kind of birth defect or problem. I am scared of burying my own child.
I feel excited. I really do want to be a mom! I am excited at the idea that this could happen. I am excited at the feeling that I'm never really alone.. there is someone with me all the time now. I'm sitting here in my kitchen, typing this, by myself. But I'm not really by myself! I have my 2 bulldogs, my 3 birds, my snake, and my fetus. My little kidney bean! He/She is right here with me! Every second of the day. For the next 32 weeks, god willing, I'll never have to face anything on my own again! I always have someone with me who agrees with me (lol) and wants the best for me, just because it wants the best for IT! Little kidney bean gives me an excuse to say "No" to people when I need to. I am good as long as I have my little bean. And I always tell him/her "You can make me as sick as you want. We love you, we want to see you, but not until November!"
I feel powerful. My body is apparently capable of incubating a fetus, at least for 8 weeks! I'm clearly still pregnant. My boobs hurt, I'm nauseous, etc. So clearly there is still something going on, so I am going to assume that my little bean is alive and growing in there! How amazing is this??? My body, that I spent so much time hating on (and still do, to be honest) is GROWING a BABY! As if it were a garden!!!! As if it were made of rich soil and this little thing is a seed in there, and it puts down its roots and says "here's a good spot!" and just starts growing away in there! And I was SOOOOOOO mean to my body all the month of March until I found out, and it kept on growing that baby anyway! How incredibly crazy and cool is that?? Now that the fetus is there, and conceived, it's all up to me. And I've made it 8 weeks and 2 days with really minimal medical help, after the initial problem on 3/26. My body is figuring this out. This - the most complicated thing! I am doing it! I am really doing it!!!
So now you are probably wondering, "what is with the title of this post?" Despite all those good things I feel, there is still a part of me hanging onto the idea that this fetus might not make it. I'm not sure which part of me is hanging onto that. I have a suspicion that it might actually be my ED hanging on to that. If it had a voice to it, it would sound something like this:
"If this fetus doesn't live, then it's much sooner that you can get back to working out. Much sooner that you'll be free of the nausea. Much sooner that you won't have to take disgusting iron pills. Much sooner that you can get back to doing ab workouts and get more muscle tone back. Much sooner that you can stop worrying about finding blood in your underwear every time you sneeze."
It's like a mix of things related to exercise/weight and things that are legitimately annoying like nausea and taking gross pills and sneeze-phobia. Which is why I think it's my ED brain, going together with my self-protecting brain. Wait a minute, are those two actually separate at all??? But THAT, my friends, is the definition of torn right there.
Unquestionably, I want this baby to live. Unquestionably, I also DON'T want to be pregnant right now! Which do I want more? The first one, obviously, or else I wouldn't be pregnant right now. So it's not that I can't make a decision. I made it! But, unquestionably, this is one of the very hardest things I've ever done.
Generally speaking, I believe we all do the best we can all the time. I don't mean that we never make a bad choice or a mistake - we ALL do. We lie when we know we shouldn't. We tell people "no" when we should really say "yes." We procrastinate. We skip stuff. That's not what I mean. I mean that on the whole we all do the best we can with what we have. The little day-to-day stuff isn't so significant, really.
My little fetus is 8 weeks and 2 days "old." (Hard to say "old" when it isn't born, but I did call it a fetus, not a baby so... you get the idea! Lol.) And man.. let me tell you... #pregnantanorexic is a FUCKING hard thing to be!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I invented that hashtag the other day. Well, it may already be invented somewhere but.. I conjured it up in my brain.
I am going to tell you how I physically feel:
I feel fat. Like I mentioned in a previous post, anyone who tries to tell you "fat is not a feeling" is dead wrong. It IS a feeling. It's a physical feeling and an emotional feeling, although I'm talking purely physical right now. I feel jiggly. Whenever I move, I can feel my fat jiggling underneath my skin. Everywhere. When I'm driving and I go over a bump in the road, I can feel it. When I take a step, I can feel it. When I bend over to pick something up, I can feel it. When I just EXIST I can feel it. I know that this is because my body is used to working out so much, and now I cannot work out to the level that it's used to. I am just hoping hoping hoping that my body can compensate. Also, my freaking boobs are getting bigger every single day! EEK! Haha.
I feel dense. My midsection feels boggy, heavy, sloshy and solid. It feels like my uterus is a sponge that is full of jello. I feel blood gathering there. I know that it is growing, making room for my fetus to grow and grow. The blood is there to insulate the fetus. To make sure that energy goes there to help it. I am okay with this dense feeling. It's weird, but it does not bother me very much.
I feel tired. So unbelievably tired! It's absolutely crazy. I am a person who never ever ever takes naps except when I'm sick, and then only rarely. Yesterday I slept for about an hour! I never do that! Various times throughout the day, my eyelids will just get heavy. They won't stay open no matter what I do. Usually I can remedy that by sitting down, reading a book, reading a blog, watching a show on my phone or something for about 30-45 minutes. Occasionally, though, I can't stay awake. Like yesterday, for example. It's a very weird feeling. Despite my body working so hard to grow this little creature, I don't sleep well at night.
I feel nauseated. Not all the time, thank goodness! But periodically throughout the day I'll feel it. Nothing too bad, and usually eating a little something (like a few saltine crackers or an apple) will take care of it. However, I've been told it can get worse after the 8th week, so we'll see! I'm on my way to 9 weeks now.
(This one is a gross one, sorry, but I'm being totally honest with you here) I feel super backed up. Iron pills... yay constipation! Miralax... you were my only hope! But you are failing me!! Lol. Let's face it - I never had the greatest digestion even before pregnancy and iron pills. I'm totally fucked now!
Those are the basics of how I physically feel right now. Mentally and emotionally is a whole different story! Now I will tell you how I emotionally feel:
I feel sad. This was interesting, I was totally intending to write "scared" right there, but my fingers typed "sad" without permission. So, sad it is! I feel sad because my body was so.... much better. Now I just feel like a whale. I guess this goes back to the first one I listed under physical - fat. I do feel sad. I am grieving the way I looked just a month ago, or 2 months ago. But I know this is only temporary and it will be so worth it. I wish the computer had a thing where I could plug a cord into my brain and into the computer so it could put my feelings into words. To make you understand how incredibly HARD this is!!! Also, I feel sad because my hormones are crazy! I'll suddenly just start crying out of nowhere! Also, I am sad because a part of my life is over. I can never go back. But I'm not actually so very sad about that... even if I weren't pregnant now, I still could never go back!
I feel scared. There we go. Scared. I am scared that I will gain a ton of weight. I am scared that I'll never get my body back again. I am scared that I will be unable to teach Zumba again after giving birth because of my hugeness. I am scared that childbirth will hurt a lot. Let me rephrase that, I am scared because I KNOW that childbirth will hurt a lot. I am scared still that something will happen to this fetus! I am scared that I won't be a good mom, even though I think I will. I am scared that the baby will be born with some kind of birth defect or problem. I am scared of burying my own child.
I feel excited. I really do want to be a mom! I am excited at the idea that this could happen. I am excited at the feeling that I'm never really alone.. there is someone with me all the time now. I'm sitting here in my kitchen, typing this, by myself. But I'm not really by myself! I have my 2 bulldogs, my 3 birds, my snake, and my fetus. My little kidney bean! He/She is right here with me! Every second of the day. For the next 32 weeks, god willing, I'll never have to face anything on my own again! I always have someone with me who agrees with me (lol) and wants the best for me, just because it wants the best for IT! Little kidney bean gives me an excuse to say "No" to people when I need to. I am good as long as I have my little bean. And I always tell him/her "You can make me as sick as you want. We love you, we want to see you, but not until November!"
I feel powerful. My body is apparently capable of incubating a fetus, at least for 8 weeks! I'm clearly still pregnant. My boobs hurt, I'm nauseous, etc. So clearly there is still something going on, so I am going to assume that my little bean is alive and growing in there! How amazing is this??? My body, that I spent so much time hating on (and still do, to be honest) is GROWING a BABY! As if it were a garden!!!! As if it were made of rich soil and this little thing is a seed in there, and it puts down its roots and says "here's a good spot!" and just starts growing away in there! And I was SOOOOOOO mean to my body all the month of March until I found out, and it kept on growing that baby anyway! How incredibly crazy and cool is that?? Now that the fetus is there, and conceived, it's all up to me. And I've made it 8 weeks and 2 days with really minimal medical help, after the initial problem on 3/26. My body is figuring this out. This - the most complicated thing! I am doing it! I am really doing it!!!
So now you are probably wondering, "what is with the title of this post?" Despite all those good things I feel, there is still a part of me hanging onto the idea that this fetus might not make it. I'm not sure which part of me is hanging onto that. I have a suspicion that it might actually be my ED hanging on to that. If it had a voice to it, it would sound something like this:
"If this fetus doesn't live, then it's much sooner that you can get back to working out. Much sooner that you'll be free of the nausea. Much sooner that you won't have to take disgusting iron pills. Much sooner that you can get back to doing ab workouts and get more muscle tone back. Much sooner that you can stop worrying about finding blood in your underwear every time you sneeze."
It's like a mix of things related to exercise/weight and things that are legitimately annoying like nausea and taking gross pills and sneeze-phobia. Which is why I think it's my ED brain, going together with my self-protecting brain. Wait a minute, are those two actually separate at all??? But THAT, my friends, is the definition of torn right there.
Unquestionably, I want this baby to live. Unquestionably, I also DON'T want to be pregnant right now! Which do I want more? The first one, obviously, or else I wouldn't be pregnant right now. So it's not that I can't make a decision. I made it! But, unquestionably, this is one of the very hardest things I've ever done.
Saturday, April 12, 2014
2nd Post Today
***Trigger Warning***
It's beginning. My body is changing.
It's a fact that there is a fetus growing in my uterus. Things are growing, shifting, changing, moving. This causes some swelling. Even though the fetus is only as big as a kidney bean, my uterus is growing, making room for this kidney-bean-sized fetus to grow bigger and bigger. The swelling causes my clothes not to fit the same. Or, in the case of some clothing items, at all.
This is probably the 2nd hardest thing I've ever done. The first hardest thing was similar to this.
In September of 2007, I was admitted to the hospital because of my eating disorder. I was in a very bad way. Underweight. Gray. Sick. It was bad. October 1, 2007, I was admitted to Kartini Clinic in Portland. December 21, 2007, I got out. 40 pounds heavier.
That 3 and a half months was only the beginning. The year and a half that followed after it were some of the darkest days I've ever had. I hated my body. Hated it so much I wanted to crawl in a hole and die.
This is totally, completely, utterly, 100% different. I can completely get behind this reason. Kartini did NOT need to put 40 pounds on me in 12 weeks. They didn't need to put 40 pounds on me at all! This, I understand, needs to happen. There is no way to grow a baby in your uterus without literally expanding to make room for it.
So why does this suck so much? This is so, so, SO hard!!!! And I am terrified because I know it's only going to get worse. Can I do this? Can I REALLY do this????? I'm going to have to. I just hope I can stay in one piece!
It's beginning. My body is changing.
It's a fact that there is a fetus growing in my uterus. Things are growing, shifting, changing, moving. This causes some swelling. Even though the fetus is only as big as a kidney bean, my uterus is growing, making room for this kidney-bean-sized fetus to grow bigger and bigger. The swelling causes my clothes not to fit the same. Or, in the case of some clothing items, at all.
This is probably the 2nd hardest thing I've ever done. The first hardest thing was similar to this.
In September of 2007, I was admitted to the hospital because of my eating disorder. I was in a very bad way. Underweight. Gray. Sick. It was bad. October 1, 2007, I was admitted to Kartini Clinic in Portland. December 21, 2007, I got out. 40 pounds heavier.
That 3 and a half months was only the beginning. The year and a half that followed after it were some of the darkest days I've ever had. I hated my body. Hated it so much I wanted to crawl in a hole and die.
This is totally, completely, utterly, 100% different. I can completely get behind this reason. Kartini did NOT need to put 40 pounds on me in 12 weeks. They didn't need to put 40 pounds on me at all! This, I understand, needs to happen. There is no way to grow a baby in your uterus without literally expanding to make room for it.
So why does this suck so much? This is so, so, SO hard!!!! And I am terrified because I know it's only going to get worse. Can I do this? Can I REALLY do this????? I'm going to have to. I just hope I can stay in one piece!
RIP Muma Ade
My sweet little bird died today. She was almost 10 years old. Not a bad run, considering her immune system was never very strong. Yesterday it seemed as though her foot was hurting her. I couldn't see anything obviously wrong with it, it wasn't really swollen or really red, she was eating and drinking fine, so I decided to watch her for a day and see what happened.
Well, this morning I came downstairs and she was laying on the floor of the cage, having trouble breathing! I grabbed a dish towel, wrapped her in it, grabbed my purse, keys and phone and raced out the door, calling the vet as I went.
I sped 70mph down the freeway and 10 minutes later I burst through the door of the vet's office, in my pajamas and bedhead with Muma in my hands. The lady behind the counter took one look at us, grabbed Muma and vanished into the back. A few minutes later, someone came and brought me back into a room where Muma was. Unfortunately, Muma would not be leaving that room with me.
The vet came in, Dr. R, and examined Muma. He put his giant stethoscope on her back. It was the saddest, sweetest thing I've seen in a long time. He was being so gentle with her, and she barely raised her head in acknowledgement of him. He used a paperclip to open her beak and peer down her throat. I wrapped her in the towel and flipped her over so he could feel her tummy and chest. She didn't like that, but she didn't make a sound.
Dr. R told me that he couldn't see anything obvious in the exam except that Muma was underweight. "Has she been eating?" he asked. I recoiled. Was he suggesting that I starved my bird? He must have sensed my indignation because he said, "It is possible that she has a metabolic or endocrine issue that is causing her weight loss, and I can see from her chart that she has never been underweight before." In fact, she was classified as overweight at an exam once, which I thought was BS.
I felt better though, after he clarified. "Yeah, she has been eating and drinking fine."
He looked over her chart again. "I would like to do an X-Ray on her, if that's okay with you. I can't tell from this exam what is wrong with her, and I can't suggest any treatment until I have an idea of what I'm looking at. It is spendy though..."
"It's fine," I said. "I don't care what it costs. Do the X-Ray, please."
He left, and I petted Muma's head while she slept for several minutes until a tech came in to get her and take her for her X-Rays. The tech told me that X-Rays can be very stressful on little birds and sometimes they work themselves up to the point of having a heart attack. I looked at Muma. "I don't think she'll resist much." The tech nodded sadly, and took Muma out.
After the X-Rays, Dr. R came back in and told me that her liver area looked enlarged and her kidneys looked small. He said he wasn't sure based on the X-Ray but his likely differentials would have been a tumor in the liver or kidney failure. "We could run some more diagnostics," he said, "but it would take a day or two to get the results."
We both looked at Muma, struggling to breathe on the table.
"I don't think she has a day or two," I said.
"No, neither do I," agreed Dr. R.
This was the suckiest part of the whole experience. I had to decide this. The fate of this little yellow bird was in my hands and only mine. As Dr. R and I looked down at her, she peeped in her sleep, and scared herself awake. She tried to take a step and lost her balance. In a second she was tumbling all around on the table, doing somersaults, as though she was drunk. I scooped her up in my hands and placed her back in the middle of the towel and petted her head and back until she went to sleep again.
I nailed Dr. R with the question, "What would YOU do?"
"Well," he said, "as a vet, I know there are options we could try. I could always give you an antibiotic and see if it helps, but from the X-Ray it doesn't look like a respiratory infection. We could run blood work.. but it would take a while, like I said. As a person, I would tell you.... she looks pretty miserable. She does not look comfortable. If you decided on euthanasia, I would fully support you in that decision."
I took that to mean that if Muma were his bird, he'd want to end her suffering, as a tumor or kidney failure was most likely. As a vet, though, he might not have been able to say that, or maybe he didn't feel comfortable saying that.
"Well, it sucks," I said. "Because I don't want to try nothing.... but I can't let her go on this way. I can't let her suffer like this for several hours more before she dies naturally. That isn't fair."
"No it isn't," agreed the vet. "Her prognosis looks very poor to me."
"Yes, me too.."
We both looked mournfully at Muma for a few seconds.
"Well then," I said. "I guess I'd better let her go."
Dr. R asked me a few questions. The last one was, "do you want her body for burial?"
"Can't it be donated to science or something? To help train new vets?"
He raised his eyebrows. "Nobody has ever asked me that before! Unfortunately, all that would go through the school program, not here. Although I should look into that."
"Yeah," I said. Affectionately, I petted Muma. "She endorses science, you know."
He chuckled and left the room. After a minute, he sent in a receptionist with some forms. I checked off the appropriate boxes, signed my name on the line and tried not to throw up. I was signing Muma's death warrant right in front of her! I was signing the papers to have them kill my bird. My baby bird. My sweet bird. What was I doing? Part of me wanted to grab her and run. But what good would that have done? That would have been a very selfish thing to do. Muma deserved an easy end, a painless end. So instead I finished my signature, handed the receptionist my card, and focused on spending every last minute with Muma that I could.
A vet tech, dressed appropriately in black scrubs, came in after a few minutes with Dr. R. Dr. R said, "do you have any questions?"
I shook my head.
"Do you need any more time?"
"No," I said. "We're good." I was terrified I would cry in front of them. Not sure why that would have been so bad, but I couldn't deal with the idea.
The vet tech picked up the towel with Muma. She didn't even open her eyes.
"Bye Muma. I love you," I said, waving as though she could see me. As though I'd see her again in a few days, as I always said whenever I left for vacation. Dr. R shook my hand and told me someone would call me tomorrow to have me pick up a clay mold of her foot. I thanked them and ran for the door.
I came home without Muma. Took a few hours to compose myself, and in true "Me" fashion, went about my day. Now I am sitting here, looking at the cockatiel's cage and it looks all wrong to only see 2 in there.
Well, this morning I came downstairs and she was laying on the floor of the cage, having trouble breathing! I grabbed a dish towel, wrapped her in it, grabbed my purse, keys and phone and raced out the door, calling the vet as I went.
I sped 70mph down the freeway and 10 minutes later I burst through the door of the vet's office, in my pajamas and bedhead with Muma in my hands. The lady behind the counter took one look at us, grabbed Muma and vanished into the back. A few minutes later, someone came and brought me back into a room where Muma was. Unfortunately, Muma would not be leaving that room with me.
The vet came in, Dr. R, and examined Muma. He put his giant stethoscope on her back. It was the saddest, sweetest thing I've seen in a long time. He was being so gentle with her, and she barely raised her head in acknowledgement of him. He used a paperclip to open her beak and peer down her throat. I wrapped her in the towel and flipped her over so he could feel her tummy and chest. She didn't like that, but she didn't make a sound.
Dr. R told me that he couldn't see anything obvious in the exam except that Muma was underweight. "Has she been eating?" he asked. I recoiled. Was he suggesting that I starved my bird? He must have sensed my indignation because he said, "It is possible that she has a metabolic or endocrine issue that is causing her weight loss, and I can see from her chart that she has never been underweight before." In fact, she was classified as overweight at an exam once, which I thought was BS.
I felt better though, after he clarified. "Yeah, she has been eating and drinking fine."
He looked over her chart again. "I would like to do an X-Ray on her, if that's okay with you. I can't tell from this exam what is wrong with her, and I can't suggest any treatment until I have an idea of what I'm looking at. It is spendy though..."
"It's fine," I said. "I don't care what it costs. Do the X-Ray, please."
He left, and I petted Muma's head while she slept for several minutes until a tech came in to get her and take her for her X-Rays. The tech told me that X-Rays can be very stressful on little birds and sometimes they work themselves up to the point of having a heart attack. I looked at Muma. "I don't think she'll resist much." The tech nodded sadly, and took Muma out.
After the X-Rays, Dr. R came back in and told me that her liver area looked enlarged and her kidneys looked small. He said he wasn't sure based on the X-Ray but his likely differentials would have been a tumor in the liver or kidney failure. "We could run some more diagnostics," he said, "but it would take a day or two to get the results."
We both looked at Muma, struggling to breathe on the table.
"I don't think she has a day or two," I said.
"No, neither do I," agreed Dr. R.
This was the suckiest part of the whole experience. I had to decide this. The fate of this little yellow bird was in my hands and only mine. As Dr. R and I looked down at her, she peeped in her sleep, and scared herself awake. She tried to take a step and lost her balance. In a second she was tumbling all around on the table, doing somersaults, as though she was drunk. I scooped her up in my hands and placed her back in the middle of the towel and petted her head and back until she went to sleep again.
I nailed Dr. R with the question, "What would YOU do?"
"Well," he said, "as a vet, I know there are options we could try. I could always give you an antibiotic and see if it helps, but from the X-Ray it doesn't look like a respiratory infection. We could run blood work.. but it would take a while, like I said. As a person, I would tell you.... she looks pretty miserable. She does not look comfortable. If you decided on euthanasia, I would fully support you in that decision."
I took that to mean that if Muma were his bird, he'd want to end her suffering, as a tumor or kidney failure was most likely. As a vet, though, he might not have been able to say that, or maybe he didn't feel comfortable saying that.
"Well, it sucks," I said. "Because I don't want to try nothing.... but I can't let her go on this way. I can't let her suffer like this for several hours more before she dies naturally. That isn't fair."
"No it isn't," agreed the vet. "Her prognosis looks very poor to me."
"Yes, me too.."
We both looked mournfully at Muma for a few seconds.
"Well then," I said. "I guess I'd better let her go."
Dr. R asked me a few questions. The last one was, "do you want her body for burial?"
"Can't it be donated to science or something? To help train new vets?"
He raised his eyebrows. "Nobody has ever asked me that before! Unfortunately, all that would go through the school program, not here. Although I should look into that."
"Yeah," I said. Affectionately, I petted Muma. "She endorses science, you know."
He chuckled and left the room. After a minute, he sent in a receptionist with some forms. I checked off the appropriate boxes, signed my name on the line and tried not to throw up. I was signing Muma's death warrant right in front of her! I was signing the papers to have them kill my bird. My baby bird. My sweet bird. What was I doing? Part of me wanted to grab her and run. But what good would that have done? That would have been a very selfish thing to do. Muma deserved an easy end, a painless end. So instead I finished my signature, handed the receptionist my card, and focused on spending every last minute with Muma that I could.
A vet tech, dressed appropriately in black scrubs, came in after a few minutes with Dr. R. Dr. R said, "do you have any questions?"
I shook my head.
"Do you need any more time?"
"No," I said. "We're good." I was terrified I would cry in front of them. Not sure why that would have been so bad, but I couldn't deal with the idea.
The vet tech picked up the towel with Muma. She didn't even open her eyes.
"Bye Muma. I love you," I said, waving as though she could see me. As though I'd see her again in a few days, as I always said whenever I left for vacation. Dr. R shook my hand and told me someone would call me tomorrow to have me pick up a clay mold of her foot. I thanked them and ran for the door.
I came home without Muma. Took a few hours to compose myself, and in true "Me" fashion, went about my day. Now I am sitting here, looking at the cockatiel's cage and it looks all wrong to only see 2 in there.
This was the last photo taken of Muma. I took it
right before the vet tech in black came to
take her away. I love her so much.
RIP Muma Ade
January 11, 2004 - April 12, 2014
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Pregnany Q&A Video Request
Hey everyone! Happy Thursday.
I don't usually do Throwback Thursdays on the blog, but here's one anyway.
Okay so I'm making a Pregnancy Q&A Video on my Youtube channel. (See tab at top of blog called "YouTube Channel" for info on that.) If you have any questions about this giant pregnancy bomb I just dropped on you guys last week, ask them! Comment them here, email me (see the contact tab), facebook me, comment them on my YouTube vid.
CLICK HERE for the YouTube Video.
Have a great Thursday!!! Xo :)
I don't usually do Throwback Thursdays on the blog, but here's one anyway.
Me at 3 years old, eating a cupcake
Okay so I'm making a Pregnancy Q&A Video on my Youtube channel. (See tab at top of blog called "YouTube Channel" for info on that.) If you have any questions about this giant pregnancy bomb I just dropped on you guys last week, ask them! Comment them here, email me (see the contact tab), facebook me, comment them on my YouTube vid.
CLICK HERE for the YouTube Video.
Have a great Thursday!!! Xo :)
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
Why I Hate Bikram Yoga
***Note: Before you worry, NO I did not do Bikram Yoga while pregnant! This was about a year ago. :)
There are some things in the world that are really good for you and are just no fun. There are some things that people claim are really good for you, that are also just no fun. The former are the things you need to do, like taking disgusting vitamins (ahem prenatals!), getting physicals, going to the dentist, filing taxes, etc. The latter, well... you can avoid them or not, depending on whether you subscribe to the idea that they are good for you.
Bikram Yoga (also known as Hot Yoga) is one such example for me. I understand that it's a good idea to cleanse your body of toxins. I understand that it's good to increase flexibility. I understand that these positions do good things for your body from increasing blood flow to straightening the spine.
But... damn... I hate Bikram Yoga!
I probably blogged about it last Spring, in March or April I think. I can't remember. It was funny, a few months back I was talking to my bestie Alena about it. She did Bikram Yoga too, late last Spring, at the same place I went to. I can't remember our conversation verbatim, but it went something like this.
Me: I'm not doing hot yoga anymore..
Alena: Me neither.
Me: It was nice but... too hot.
Alena: Yeah. And expensive.
Me: Yeah. Actually... you know what?
Alena: What?
Me: I really hated it! It wasn't nice at all!
Alena: ME TOO!!!! I would count the poses like, okay, only 15 more.. 10 more..
Me: Yeah, by the time I got to rabbit pose I knew I'd make it!
Alena: Never again.
Me: Never ever.
So there you have it! Now.. I know that some people legit enjoy hot yoga. And that is great! I'm sure those people have way fewer toxins in their body than I do! But you know what? Feeling incredibly dizzy for 90 straight minutes, followed by days of crazy postural hypotension (aka headrush) was not worth it! I felt worse after hot yoga rather than better.
The ONLY exception to that was that I felt accomplished. But that didn't last long. The first class was okay. I made it through the whole 90 minutes, I didn't have to sit down or lay down. I did every pose, although not always gracefully. I can remember the teacher saying, "The first class is the hardest to get through, the second class is the hardest to come back to. But after that it gets easier." In my experience, that was exactly backwards!
The second class I was dizzy and had to lie down a few times. The more I went back, the less time I spent standing up doing poses. By the 3rd and 4th class I spent more time flat on my back on the mat than I did upright! It was awful!! The room would spin, the floor would rock, and I would tip over if I didn't lie down RIGHT THEN.
And the poses... oh man. Don't even get me started! I can remember the instructors saying things like, "Twist your arms and legs together like wet squishy ropes." The wet and squishy part came because by that time we were absolutely drenched from head to toe in sweat. I don't mean a light glisten. I mean, just-stepped-out-of-the-shower, wet stringy hair, clothes 5 shades darker than you started, kind of sweaty! It was really quite something.
Camel pose, which came somewhere in the 2nd of half of class, was my undoing. I had (have!) a love-hate relationship with camel pose. It's where you're on your knees, you arch your back, grab your ankles and press your pelvis and chest forward like an archer's bow. It opens up all the chakras along the front of your body and your energy goes zipping up and down like electricity. "Push more, more, more, hold it, hold it!" The instructor would say. "And release." We'd all snap upright like a rubber band, flip onto our backs and wait. My body had a crazy violent reaction to camel pose each and every time. I would be stoic throughout the active pose, but as soon as we'd release, I'd start bawling and I would be incredibly nauseous. I thought I was crazy! But the teacher told me that happens sometimes. Weird, eh?
Do not misunderstand me - I enjoy yoga! I like flow yoga, relaxation yoga, power yoga. I suck at meditation but I enjoy it all the same. I plan on doing yoga throughout my pregnancy, and I'm really looking forward to it. But Bikram Yoga? No thank you. Never again.
There are some things in the world that are really good for you and are just no fun. There are some things that people claim are really good for you, that are also just no fun. The former are the things you need to do, like taking disgusting vitamins (ahem prenatals!), getting physicals, going to the dentist, filing taxes, etc. The latter, well... you can avoid them or not, depending on whether you subscribe to the idea that they are good for you.
Bikram Yoga (also known as Hot Yoga) is one such example for me. I understand that it's a good idea to cleanse your body of toxins. I understand that it's good to increase flexibility. I understand that these positions do good things for your body from increasing blood flow to straightening the spine.
But... damn... I hate Bikram Yoga!
I probably blogged about it last Spring, in March or April I think. I can't remember. It was funny, a few months back I was talking to my bestie Alena about it. She did Bikram Yoga too, late last Spring, at the same place I went to. I can't remember our conversation verbatim, but it went something like this.
Me: I'm not doing hot yoga anymore..
Alena: Me neither.
Me: It was nice but... too hot.
Alena: Yeah. And expensive.
Me: Yeah. Actually... you know what?
Alena: What?
Me: I really hated it! It wasn't nice at all!
Alena: ME TOO!!!! I would count the poses like, okay, only 15 more.. 10 more..
Me: Yeah, by the time I got to rabbit pose I knew I'd make it!
Alena: Never again.
Me: Never ever.
So there you have it! Now.. I know that some people legit enjoy hot yoga. And that is great! I'm sure those people have way fewer toxins in their body than I do! But you know what? Feeling incredibly dizzy for 90 straight minutes, followed by days of crazy postural hypotension (aka headrush) was not worth it! I felt worse after hot yoga rather than better.
The ONLY exception to that was that I felt accomplished. But that didn't last long. The first class was okay. I made it through the whole 90 minutes, I didn't have to sit down or lay down. I did every pose, although not always gracefully. I can remember the teacher saying, "The first class is the hardest to get through, the second class is the hardest to come back to. But after that it gets easier." In my experience, that was exactly backwards!
The second class I was dizzy and had to lie down a few times. The more I went back, the less time I spent standing up doing poses. By the 3rd and 4th class I spent more time flat on my back on the mat than I did upright! It was awful!! The room would spin, the floor would rock, and I would tip over if I didn't lie down RIGHT THEN.
And the poses... oh man. Don't even get me started! I can remember the instructors saying things like, "Twist your arms and legs together like wet squishy ropes." The wet and squishy part came because by that time we were absolutely drenched from head to toe in sweat. I don't mean a light glisten. I mean, just-stepped-out-of-the-shower, wet stringy hair, clothes 5 shades darker than you started, kind of sweaty! It was really quite something.
Camel pose, which came somewhere in the 2nd of half of class, was my undoing. I had (have!) a love-hate relationship with camel pose. It's where you're on your knees, you arch your back, grab your ankles and press your pelvis and chest forward like an archer's bow. It opens up all the chakras along the front of your body and your energy goes zipping up and down like electricity. "Push more, more, more, hold it, hold it!" The instructor would say. "And release." We'd all snap upright like a rubber band, flip onto our backs and wait. My body had a crazy violent reaction to camel pose each and every time. I would be stoic throughout the active pose, but as soon as we'd release, I'd start bawling and I would be incredibly nauseous. I thought I was crazy! But the teacher told me that happens sometimes. Weird, eh?
Do not misunderstand me - I enjoy yoga! I like flow yoga, relaxation yoga, power yoga. I suck at meditation but I enjoy it all the same. I plan on doing yoga throughout my pregnancy, and I'm really looking forward to it. But Bikram Yoga? No thank you. Never again.
Monday, April 7, 2014
My Animals
Taking a break from the blog posts about pregnancy (oh man oh man), here is an entry about my OTHER babies... my non-human babies!
The Birds
Bijou
Also called "The Princess," Bijou is an almost 13 year old cockatiel. I got her in June of 2001. She loves to have her head skritched, her favorite food is carrots and she (honest to god) likes the color pink. She weighs about 90 grams, and has a crooked toe on her left foot. She likes to go in the shower. She is flighted but is terrible at landing. Her favorite thing to do is burrow inside people's coats and hide under blankets.
The Birds
Bijou
Also called "The Princess," Bijou is an almost 13 year old cockatiel. I got her in June of 2001. She loves to have her head skritched, her favorite food is carrots and she (honest to god) likes the color pink. She weighs about 90 grams, and has a crooked toe on her left foot. She likes to go in the shower. She is flighted but is terrible at landing. Her favorite thing to do is burrow inside people's coats and hide under blankets.
Muma
Muma was originally named Spike, and was assumed to be a boy. She laid 6 eggs, quickly debunking that assumption! From baby talk came the nickname "Mumazhuzha" which shortened to Muma. Her nicknames now are Mumadoo, Moomie, Muma-Ade and OozaWooza. Muma is from Winnipeg, MB Canada, and turned 11 in January. Her chirp is markedly different from any cockatiel I've ever had in the past. It sounds more like "weep?" than "peEEeep!" Muma loves to snuggle with people. She was very timid when I first got her but I soon fixed that. Her favorite food is popcorn. Muma is very talented at flying. She also gives great beakie kisses!
Lyrik
I honestly believe Lyrik has autism. (If cats can have autism, why can't birds?) Lyrik turned 6 last June. She is my only left-footed bird. She loves to press her beak into the space between your nose and upper lip. She can get scared very easily and emit a terrifying shriek that often startles people. She rarely bites hard. Lyrik's favorite food is cheerios. She absolutely hates nail polish. You can always tell when Lyrik has flown into something because she is the most dandery of my birds and will leave a bird-print on whatever she has collided with. She has an affinity for nose picking. I call her my little punk-rock bird because she has black nails.
Shmuel
My 12 year old Maximilian Pionus Parrot, Shmuel, is not really a people lover. She loves Corky, but I'm not her favorite. She can talk, and says "whatcha doin?", "I love you", "Hi Sam," wolf-whistles and makes a kissy sound. She bites HARD when she wants to. She can't fly very well, but that doesn't stop her from trying! She likes to make nests out of anything cardboard she can find. Her other favorite hobby is scaring the living shit out of the cockatiels by suddenly shrieking at the top of her lungs.
The Snake
Nosferatu
Nosferatu is a 4 year old Albino Nelson's Milksnake. Normally their colors are black, red/orange and white. Nosferatu eats frozen, dead mice. He'll eat either white ones or black ones - he is not picky! He eats once per week. He is my easiest pet! Quiet, tidy, obedient, never back-talks... he doesn't even hiss! He likes being left alone, but will tolerate being held. He took a liking to one of my bridesmaids this past fall. He's very curious and likes to explore his habitat. One time he escaped, and we found him curled up under the BluRay player! What a good boy!
The Frenchies
Abigail
On February 24, we brought home our first French Bulldog puppy. Abigail Shula Shaw is now a gorgeous 2 year old. She loves to play fetch! I call her the Golden Snitch at the dogpark, because she flies around like a bullet and the other big dogs can't catch her. She's very patient, very loving and very smart. She's pretty obedient for a Frenchie! She loves to snuggle in the bed, give kisses and have her ears scratched. She's definitely a daddy's girl. She loves peanut butter, carrots, banana and blueberries. Her favorite toy is a tennis ball.
Her birthday is December 21.
Jax
Born on March 21, 2013, Jax McGee just turned one! Jax weighed only 4 pounds when he came to us. Now he weighs a strapping 25 pounds! Jax is feisty, loving, cuddly and stubborn. He's his mama's boy! He's incredibly sporty, with crazy long lean legs! He can run forever and not tire out. He almost never pants. Jax's favorite thing to do is EAT. He eats everything, regardless of it's edibility! He's not very good at sharing (fortunately Abigail is.) Jax always looks very worried about everything. At the dog park, Jax prefers to hang out by himself or with us. He doesn't like to fetch. His favorite toy is anything that he can chew on.
Saturday, April 5, 2014
Frustrating Inconsistencies
I believe I've mentioned before (way way way back) on this blog how obnoxious I find inconsistencies to be. No matter what the topic. It drives me batty when one person tells me one thing, and another person tells me the exact opposite, or worse yet when the SAME person tells me both!
Nutrition, fat, calories, etc., are a touchy subject for me in the first place. So I'm sure you can imagine that it is beyond infuriating for me (and you too probably) when this inconsistency thing happens regarding that. Whether it be on TV, in the magazines, or from the FDA or whoever.
Let's examine one of the helpless victims of this inconsistency crap: the Egg.
Poor little egg, just sitting there all by itself, with tons of nutritional value inside it that no one ever really paid attention to. Getting cracked open, cooked and eaten day after day, with very little recognition. Then professionals went, "Eggs are a great source of protein! The yolks contain iron! You should all eat eggs very often!" So people ate eggs all the time. (Remember the Incredible Edible Egg commercials?)
Well, then the professionals were like, "Oh wait, just kidding. Eggs contain cholesterol! Stop eating eggs! They give you heart disease!" Which is so not even true. Cholesterol contributes to heart disease, but that is very different than saying eggs cause it.
So then people started banishing eggs from their daily diet. After all, the professionals said............
So a few years later, people finally came to their senses and said, "Okay. Here's the real deal. Eggs are good for you. Just don't eat them all the time." Which is the same for like every single food! You don't want to eat too much of anything ever! Everything in moderation. Water. Oxygen. Sex. Food. Eggs. Get it?
So how does this pertain to me currently? It has nothing to do with eggs. But rather with nutrition. I went to a prenatal class on Wednesday, April 2nd. The nurse who ran it was really nice, although a little.... tangential. Anyway, she handed out like 8,000 papers to us, covering a plethora of topics. One of which was - you guessed it - nutrition for pregnant women!
This is what just drives me crazy. She handed us out 2 different papers on this topic. One paper said that pregnant women only really need about 300-400 more calories per day. The rough equivalent to one extra sandwich and fruit (depending on the type of sandwich, I add) per day, or else a few crackers with almond butter and a cup of milk, or a yogurt & granola parfait... you get the idea. THE OTHER PAPER she handed out said that 2,500-2,700 calories per day was recommended for pregnancy.
In what universe does the average woman eat between 2,200-2,400 calories per day (recommended)???? They don't, right? But that's the only way to reconcile those 2 papers. It just drives me nuts! The most I ever ate (as an anorexic person) per day was MAYBE 1,500 and that's only if I did a ton of Zumba that day or went to the gym for hours on end. You can all be sure don't do that much Zumba now, but I still eat about that much. So in the 2nd and 3rd trimester I'm supposed to eat about 1,800 calories, based on this. That sounds FINE. 2,500-2,700 sounds like torture. And unhealthy, too.
I think in this situation the thing I should do is go see a nutritionist who is experienced with people with EDs. Just because I honestly have no fucking idea what I'm doing.
In other news, my fetus is 7 weeks old today. It's apparently now the size of a blueberry. No more Yentil the Lentil! Interesting...... :)
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
Viability Ultrasound Appointment - Yentil the Lentil
Yesterday, April 1st, I had my viability ultrasound at 8:50am. I arrived at 8:40, like they instructed, having drank about 20 ounces of water (also as they had instructed.) I was ready to SCREAM!!!! If you think that it's just the actual baby pressing on the bladder that makes pregnant women have to pee so often, you'd be wrong. Apparently it's a hormone thing, coupled with the fact that you have increased blood flow to practically every part of your body that makes your bladder turn into Niagara Falls every 40-60 minutes.
By the time they called my name I was wiggling in my chair, trying to keep from getting up and doing the Potty Polka (as my mom so amusingly calls it) right there in the waiting room. Corky and I went back with the Ultrasound Lady, Julia, into this room with a curtain in front of the door and a bed. The lights were dimmed and there was a huge ultrasound machine with a big screen placed next to the bed, and another screen mounted up high on the wall where the occupier of the bed could see it.
Julia instructed me to lay down on the bed. As I got myself situated, she asked me a few questions such as, "Is this your first pregnancy? Are you having much nausea?" She told me to pull my shirt and sweatshirt up, tucked a towel into my sweatpants to protect the fabric, warned me "warm gel" before squirting clear ultrasound jelly onto my lower abdomen. (By the way, no matter how many times techs tell me the gel will be warm, I always expect it to be cold. It never ceases to surprise me. It really is warm!)
The first touch of the ultrasound wand always tickles me. I'm not a very ticklish person, but for some reason this gets me. After a second or two I get used to it and stop tensing my muscles up.
The blurry, blobby, gray and black image popped up onto the screen on the wall. I saw the familiar curved shape of the inside of my body. Creepy, really! The sound waves flowed into my body, creating the illusion of light through water on the screen. You know when you go to the bottom of a pool or the ocean and look up with your goggles at the surface? You know how you can see the light filtering down? That's what the ultrasound looks like. The light gray "beams" move and dance all over the screen, like light. But it's really sound. Weird right?
Anyway, at first I couldn't see the fetus. I was terrified that it had disappeared somehow. Just vanished, like Amelia Earhart's plane. But then Julia moved the wand and I saw it. It looked like a little black hole. When she zoomed in on it, I saw a little gray blob in the middle.
"There it is!" said Julia, moving her mouse over the area. The screen on the wall showed exactly what her screen did, so I could see her mouse moving. "This is the gestational sac," Julia said, circling her mouse around the black hole. She then regretfully informed me, "But I can't see much else. We're going to have to do the internal ultrasound."
To be honest with you guys, it's really not that bad. I had one done in the ER on 3/26. It's not painful, it's not very scary, and it's not that awkward. They don't have to peer in anywhere, thank goodness. And it seems like this is just another day at the office, so I try not to think too much about it. I'm sure she's seen worse (or so I keep telling myself. LOL!) The very best part was that I finally got to go pee! I was very excited about that. :)
"Cold gel," warned Julia this time. She wasn't wrong. Then the screen came to life again. "Here's the gestational sac," Julia said, moving her mouse around the same black hole type object I had seen on the first one. "The baby is right here.." she indicated a small grayish blob aforementioned. "And this..." Julia then zoomed in and circled her mouse around a small bubble that appeared to be attached to the baby, "is the yolk sac. It's what's feeding baby."
"Yolk?" I said. "Like a bird?"
"Yeah, kind of," Julia said. "It's where the nutrients come from."
"Oh.." I said, looking. "Interesting."
Julia zoomed in on the little thing. She held the wand very still.
"What's moving?" I asked, nodding toward the screen.
"That's the heartbeat."
I could not believe it. I could not believe my eyes! There it was! Beating away! Like a little teeny fluttering bug! I wanted to say something like, wow that's amazing! I'm so glad it's alive. How precious! A new life!
Instead what came out was, "...Creepy!"
Julia started laughing. "Looks normal to me. 122 beats per minute. Looks like a healthy little fetus." She clicked around, typed a bunch of letters all over the place on the screen, drawing lines across the little creature floating around in my body. "About 6 weeks, 3 days," Julia said. Corky looked at his phone. "February 12th," he said. "What did we do that day?"
"I can tell you!" Julia said, laughing. She finished up the ultrasound, printed off a few pictures, and handed me a tissue box to.. ah.. clean up with. "Get dressed and head back out to the lobby, okay? You can check in for your appointment with the doctor."
So. The fetus is 6 weeks 3 days old (6 weeks 4 days today) and is as big as a lentil. I told my Naturopath that today and she remembered a Dr. Seuss Spoof called Yentil the Lentil (instead of Yurtle the Turtle). So now we affectionately refer to it as Yentil the Lentil.
About 20 minutes later I was being weighed and measured by a nurse. The good news is that I told her I didn't want to know my weight and she was fine with that. The bad news is that I saw it later. And it scared the living SHIT out of me!!! But she weighed me with all my clothes on (not my shoes) and I had drank loads of water that morning, so I decided that it was wrong anyway and went on with my day (a victory on its own!)
Dr. B saw me. Normally I will see Dr. W but since this was a viability ultrasound, they wanted to get me in ASAP, which I appreciated greatly. She told me that everything looked fine. I asked about the pain and the bleeding. She said it's nothing to worry about, the fetus looks good and has a strong heartbeat.
Then came the million dollar question. Can I work out?
She said.... YES!!!!! I can teach Zumba, I just can't jump or work out too hard. GLORY BE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
She sent me for lab work, a urine sample, and set me up with the check-in lady to get my appointments scheduled.
I am still too scared to trust that this could possibly be happening for real. I don't dare get invested in this thing. Calling it Yentil the Lentil is one thing. Calling it "a baby" is something else. Corky keeps calling it "she." I don't like that for 2 reasons. 1) I don't know if it's a he or a she and 2) that makes it too real. If, heaven forbid, anything should happen to this fetus, I don't want to fall completely apart.
So.. now what? I have an appointment with Dr W, my actual doctor, on April 21st. In the meantime, I'm allowed to teach Zumba carefully. But I'm actually going to post more about that at a later time.
I'm ALSO going to be posting, for sure, about pregnancy + anorexia. Even if something should happen to Yentil the Lentil, I'll still write about it. This past week and 2 days had been legit crazy. Things are changing that I thought never could. This deserves to be written about, regardless of the fate of this fetus. Don't you worry - I will let you all in! My head is a crazy, crazy place to be right now.
have a fantastic WEDENSDAY!!!!! :)
By the time they called my name I was wiggling in my chair, trying to keep from getting up and doing the Potty Polka (as my mom so amusingly calls it) right there in the waiting room. Corky and I went back with the Ultrasound Lady, Julia, into this room with a curtain in front of the door and a bed. The lights were dimmed and there was a huge ultrasound machine with a big screen placed next to the bed, and another screen mounted up high on the wall where the occupier of the bed could see it.
Julia instructed me to lay down on the bed. As I got myself situated, she asked me a few questions such as, "Is this your first pregnancy? Are you having much nausea?" She told me to pull my shirt and sweatshirt up, tucked a towel into my sweatpants to protect the fabric, warned me "warm gel" before squirting clear ultrasound jelly onto my lower abdomen. (By the way, no matter how many times techs tell me the gel will be warm, I always expect it to be cold. It never ceases to surprise me. It really is warm!)
The first touch of the ultrasound wand always tickles me. I'm not a very ticklish person, but for some reason this gets me. After a second or two I get used to it and stop tensing my muscles up.
The blurry, blobby, gray and black image popped up onto the screen on the wall. I saw the familiar curved shape of the inside of my body. Creepy, really! The sound waves flowed into my body, creating the illusion of light through water on the screen. You know when you go to the bottom of a pool or the ocean and look up with your goggles at the surface? You know how you can see the light filtering down? That's what the ultrasound looks like. The light gray "beams" move and dance all over the screen, like light. But it's really sound. Weird right?
Anyway, at first I couldn't see the fetus. I was terrified that it had disappeared somehow. Just vanished, like Amelia Earhart's plane. But then Julia moved the wand and I saw it. It looked like a little black hole. When she zoomed in on it, I saw a little gray blob in the middle.
"There it is!" said Julia, moving her mouse over the area. The screen on the wall showed exactly what her screen did, so I could see her mouse moving. "This is the gestational sac," Julia said, circling her mouse around the black hole. She then regretfully informed me, "But I can't see much else. We're going to have to do the internal ultrasound."
To be honest with you guys, it's really not that bad. I had one done in the ER on 3/26. It's not painful, it's not very scary, and it's not that awkward. They don't have to peer in anywhere, thank goodness. And it seems like this is just another day at the office, so I try not to think too much about it. I'm sure she's seen worse (or so I keep telling myself. LOL!) The very best part was that I finally got to go pee! I was very excited about that. :)
"Cold gel," warned Julia this time. She wasn't wrong. Then the screen came to life again. "Here's the gestational sac," Julia said, moving her mouse around the same black hole type object I had seen on the first one. "The baby is right here.." she indicated a small grayish blob aforementioned. "And this..." Julia then zoomed in and circled her mouse around a small bubble that appeared to be attached to the baby, "is the yolk sac. It's what's feeding baby."
"Yolk?" I said. "Like a bird?"
"Yeah, kind of," Julia said. "It's where the nutrients come from."
"Oh.." I said, looking. "Interesting."
Julia zoomed in on the little thing. She held the wand very still.
"What's moving?" I asked, nodding toward the screen.
"That's the heartbeat."
I could not believe it. I could not believe my eyes! There it was! Beating away! Like a little teeny fluttering bug! I wanted to say something like, wow that's amazing! I'm so glad it's alive. How precious! A new life!
Instead what came out was, "...Creepy!"
Julia started laughing. "Looks normal to me. 122 beats per minute. Looks like a healthy little fetus." She clicked around, typed a bunch of letters all over the place on the screen, drawing lines across the little creature floating around in my body. "About 6 weeks, 3 days," Julia said. Corky looked at his phone. "February 12th," he said. "What did we do that day?"
"I can tell you!" Julia said, laughing. She finished up the ultrasound, printed off a few pictures, and handed me a tissue box to.. ah.. clean up with. "Get dressed and head back out to the lobby, okay? You can check in for your appointment with the doctor."
So. The fetus is 6 weeks 3 days old (6 weeks 4 days today) and is as big as a lentil. I told my Naturopath that today and she remembered a Dr. Seuss Spoof called Yentil the Lentil (instead of Yurtle the Turtle). So now we affectionately refer to it as Yentil the Lentil.
About 20 minutes later I was being weighed and measured by a nurse. The good news is that I told her I didn't want to know my weight and she was fine with that. The bad news is that I saw it later. And it scared the living SHIT out of me!!! But she weighed me with all my clothes on (not my shoes) and I had drank loads of water that morning, so I decided that it was wrong anyway and went on with my day (a victory on its own!)
Dr. B saw me. Normally I will see Dr. W but since this was a viability ultrasound, they wanted to get me in ASAP, which I appreciated greatly. She told me that everything looked fine. I asked about the pain and the bleeding. She said it's nothing to worry about, the fetus looks good and has a strong heartbeat.
Then came the million dollar question. Can I work out?
She said.... YES!!!!! I can teach Zumba, I just can't jump or work out too hard. GLORY BE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
She sent me for lab work, a urine sample, and set me up with the check-in lady to get my appointments scheduled.
I am still too scared to trust that this could possibly be happening for real. I don't dare get invested in this thing. Calling it Yentil the Lentil is one thing. Calling it "a baby" is something else. Corky keeps calling it "she." I don't like that for 2 reasons. 1) I don't know if it's a he or a she and 2) that makes it too real. If, heaven forbid, anything should happen to this fetus, I don't want to fall completely apart.
So.. now what? I have an appointment with Dr W, my actual doctor, on April 21st. In the meantime, I'm allowed to teach Zumba carefully. But I'm actually going to post more about that at a later time.
I'm ALSO going to be posting, for sure, about pregnancy + anorexia. Even if something should happen to Yentil the Lentil, I'll still write about it. This past week and 2 days had been legit crazy. Things are changing that I thought never could. This deserves to be written about, regardless of the fate of this fetus. Don't you worry - I will let you all in! My head is a crazy, crazy place to be right now.
have a fantastic WEDENSDAY!!!!! :)
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