Monday, January 26, 2009

Status Report - 85 Days to Go!

Before I got pregnant, I ran and did fairly strenuous weight training a few times a week. After the positive pee stick, my heart rate and energy level have dictated that I had to back off the regular training routine, but that was OK. I could live with it as long as I was able to keep some semblance of fitness by walking a lot at an incline and lifting lighter weights.

Then I had surgery in week 19 and had to take 6 weeks off exercising at all to recover. Ever since, I have felt rather crappy. Not in a "Gee, I'm pregnant and this baby gets heavier to lug around every day" kind of way, just in a "I have no energy at all to do even the simplest of things I would like to do." I still haven't really gotten my strength back, I'm exhausted most of the time, and finding things that I can actually do activity-wise has been a real challenge.

Yesterday, I went to an Aquafit class. It was me and a bunch of 60-something women, half of whom were recovering from hip replacement surgery. I gotta' say, it was a lot of fun geeking out to the cheesy golden oldies. Also, being the fittest person in the room was kind of cool. Not to mention that I felt downright sexy in a pool full of blue-hairs. Last night after the class, any swelling I had was virtually gone and I'm still feeling pretty damn limber today. You know, I think those little old ladies are on to something!

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Status Report - 87 Days to Go!

I'm in Week 27, the start of the 3rd trimester. Some of the pregnancy guides say the final trimester actually starts at Week 28. But fuck those guys, I don't like them very much anyway. It's the home stretch for this kicky little baby and I.

The worst symptom for me in the 1st trimester was the exhaustion. Fatigue has reared it's ugly head again in the 3rd. I get home from work and can't be bothered to make dinner. I want to nap pretty much all the time. When I'm not too tired to go to the gym, which is rare, I can get through a whole workout no problem but walking up a flight of stairs to go pee leaves me gasping for air. That one, I just don't understand. Otherwise, symptom wise I'm doing OK so far. I haven't had any of the more unpleasant digestive problems that come with the squished internal organs, which can probably be attributed to the shitload of fibre I take in every day. I also drink water like a thirsty fish, so there's been no swelling extreme swelling of the extremities, though I did break down and buy a bigger pair of shoes because my current shoes are pretty snug by the end of the day and my wedding band and engagement ring have been on a chain around my neck since about Week 9.

I had planned to work right up to the bitter end, but knowing how tired I already am, I moved up the start of my leave to give me the last two weeks of pregnancy in the comfort of my own home. I feel no need to expose the world to the last two inches of my giant belly when the maternity clothes can no longer keep things under wraps. My biggest concern about going early was having the baby late, as in "What if I go on leave two weeks before the baby is due and then I go two weeks late?" That's four weeks of leave I would burn off for nothing! But I have Gestational Diabetes (it's only a big deal if it's untreated) and with this condition, the placenta can deteriorate rapidly at the end of the pregnancy. If we get all the way to the due date, I'll be induced. It's crazy to be excited about having a condition that requires strict management, but when it means I know I have a definitive end date, I'll take it!

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Status Report - 100 Days to Go!

My kid is a demon who fucks with her mommy. She has been gradually getting more active every day and on Friday the activity level bordered on frantic. And then yesterday... virtually nothing. I did a few kick counts throughout the day and we always got to the required 10 movements within an hour, but unless I was REALLY paying attention there was no movement.

Naturally, because pregnant women are ever so rational, I assumed that during her super active day on Friday she had wrapped the umbilical cord around her neck and was going to struggle for oxygen until her death and it was going to be all my fault for not doing something to save her. Yup, perfectly reasonable assumption.

I did another kick count this morning, and while there were still the requisite number of kicks in a short period of time, they were still not strong enough for my liking. I decided I was going to shower and then call the midwife. I had to shower because they'd probably instruct me to go to the hospital (to save my dying baby) and I wanted to be fresh as a daisy while there. See? Perfect reasoning!

While I was in the shower, she hoofed me in the cervix so hard (seriously? what is with this kid and her hoofing me in the girly bits?) I nearly hit the floor. Or tub. Whatever. She has continued to hop around like a Mexican jumping bean in there all day since. In other words, she had turned herself around and spent yesterday kicking at the back where I can't feel them and has since turned back around so that I feel every single one. Totally fucking with me!

I had a nightmare last week that my car got stuck on some train tracks while I was driving with the baby and as the train barreled towards us, I couldn't get her out of the car seat. Between the horrible nightmares and managing to convince myself that she was at the brink of something awful last night, I have come to the conclusion that there is yet another thing about pregnancy that nobody ever tells you:

The entire process is fraught with anxiety. For as long as she's in MY belly, she's my exclusive responsibility. And it sucks. Putting that kind of pressure on a body that's already physically stressed and hormonally taxed is Totally. Not. Fair.

Monday, January 5, 2009

Status Report - 106 Days to Go!

Well, silly little me! I always thought that when they told you the sex of the baby during an ultrasound, they'd do so with some degree of certainty... I mean, they're supposed to be able to tell if my baby - still only the size of a small doll - has a cleft palate or club foot, but they cannot tell me if that's labia or testicles? Fuck!

Anyway, they're 75% sure it's a little...

GIRL!!

Margaret Rose is still expected to join us on April 21st or somewhere thereabouts. We will call her Maggie. With every squirm or kick, I love her a little more.

Also done today... The Glucose Screen. This test checks for Gestational Diabetes. It's one blood test after fasting overnight, then they give you the nastiest shit in the world to drink and take your blood one and two hours later. Making a pregnant woman go 14 hours without food is just plain mean! Given that I am not much of a fan of the sweets, the nasty McDonald's Orange Drink of Death was a real treat for Kicky who noted her approval by hoofing the crap out of my cervix. At one point I swore I was going to look down and see a foot sticking out. But no, just random Mommy abuse. I look back at those early little flutters with much longing.