Archive for June, 2011

Lucky 13?

On New Years Eve 1997, I found myself just tipsy enough to do something I’d never do otherwise. I was in a bar called Lucky 13 on Market St. in San Francisco. I was with my friend Pete, who never has to be tipsy to do anything. And I had to pee… badly. There was a very long line, as usual, for the women’s room and zero line for the men’s. Only thing was that, for some reason, the door to the men’s room stayed wide open and besides the urinals there was one stall with… you guessed it, no door. I took a stand for my bladder that night, walked right into that men’s room, and peed.

Don't worry, Mom. I was 22.

This story has nothing to do with anything except that I’m hoping, with the onset of week 13 of my pregnancy and the end of the first trimester, I may find myself in Lucky 13 once more (not to drink, don’t worry). It began with a veggie burger at my friends’ house. That was Friday, day 1 of week 13. Now, on day 4, I am happy to announce that I ate another veggie burger. Real food! In my body! I can’t say I have been without nausea or the incessant belching that has plagued me these 7 weeks. But the fact that I ate anything besides a rice cake (which I did need to get me to bed last night) and a popsicle is giving me some hope. Yes, HOPE! I said it.

Other changes I’ve noticed include: firmness above the pelvic bone, which I assume is what the books now call my small-melon uterus; a bigger belly, which I know is not from any baby or food, but which I think is from ascending guts and gas; and here’s a weirdo… one areola is now bigger and of a different shape than the other. Ah, sharing!

I still struggle with travel. I do better driving than sitting shotgun, but the motion really takes the life out of me. I’ve lost several hours to major nausea and woe after a 15-minute drive. If week 13 can keep the tenuous promise of all the books and websites, and if I can keep feeling a little better, maybe—just maybe—I’ll be the fun aunt I should be when my nephew and niece arrive a week from tomorrow. Cross fingers!(?)

So Close

It’s been a while since I’ve posted, mostly because I’ve been feeling so deathly. I heard about morning sickness, but I never imagined it to be so overwhelming, so long lasting. I have become an agoraphobe with an eating disorder. Seriously, I do not leave the house for fear of feeling sick in public and I cannot deal with food. If I know I have to eat something, I start to panic. People say this will end in a couple weeks, but since I don’t understand the hormones and the process, I don’t get why it would. I’m at 11 weeks 4 days, and I don’t feel well at all. I banked my entire summer fun on this being over by the end of the first trimester. Now I fear that when my family comes to visit next month, I’ll spend the whole visit moaning and crying and begging for relief.

I’ve been getting an earful of the saying/proverb/old wive’s tale that as rough as the sickness is, so is the good health of the baby. I want to care that this could be true. I want to be happy about how far we’ve come. But I’m a miserable sack of pathetic.

We had our appointment for genetics testing (i.e., Down Syndrome check) made for next week. But neither of us felt good about going through with it, so we canceled. K did some research, and apparently these 12-week tests often give false positives that would just stress us out for the rest of the pregnancy. We know we will not abort this baby, so why go through that? We’ve heard from friends and family who have been glad they did the tests because of the relief they got. But what if they’d gotten false positives? These tests only give you percentages of the chance anyway. Where’s the relief in that? Maybe we’re letting our fear of fear make this decision. Maybe we’re being naive. But am I missing something? Is getting an inaccurate likelihood going to change anything? And what if I was still 34? Would we be magically spared from this decision?

On a lighter note… we’ve started referring to the fetus as Baby Mochi because when I can eat, all I seem to get in is rice or rice-based. It’s also about the right size. Would it be the worst thing in the world if the baby was a delicious rice dumpling with ice cream in the middle?

(Disclaimer: No men were harmed in the making of this blog.)

The Family

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