Tuesday, October 27, 2009

I'm a little stoned, so this may ramble a bit

Don't worry; the drugs are fully sanctioned by my doctors. And yes, everybody's fine.

Nothing like getting kicked when you're down. I was just getting over that stupid cold, FINALLY, when Mother of All Headaches stopped by for a visit. Well, okay, I've had worse headaches. Lots worse. But it's been years. And a lot has changed since then, like having a boisterous toddler (almost toddler, actually... dawdler?) and a boisterous fetus. Even though it totally ruined the weekend, I must say the timing on this headache was perfect.

It started as a nice, meek tension headache sometime around Friday. I usually ignore those, since there's not much I can do about them except wait for my neck muscles to unclench (thank you, pregnancy, for robbing me of my sweet, sweet ibuprofen; well, actually, until 30 weeks I'm allowed to take it when absolutely necessary, but I limit myself to the really bad headaches). And then I was really stupid and gorged myself on sugar Friday and Saturday, forgetting that sugar is a migraine trigger. It's been so long since I had a migraine that I haven't had to worry about it in ages. Anyway, the real beating started on Sunday, and James--wonderful James!--picked up the slack like a champion. Cheerfully, even. I think I'll keep him.

So I spent Sunday moaning and clutching my head. And since there was no light/sound sensitivity this time around, I just thought it was a really bad tension headache. Of course, then the throbbing temple vein and the nausea set in on Monday, and I figured it out. Thankfully, I had a doctor's appointment yesterday. That meant I didn't have to deal with The Child all day and feel guilty about lying on the couch and moaning instead of showing her love and affection an all that other garbage kids apparently need in quantity.

Headaches make me stupid. Stupider, at least. I get dull-witted and slow and kind of look stoned. Sometimes I mouth-breathe because *smells make it hurt more. I also hate it when people think I'm stupid, especially doctors. Not that any of my current doctors have treated me that way. But people in general (and here I'm talking about my experiences waitressing) often treat me like I'm dumb, mostly because I still look like I'm about twelve. And I turn into a blithering, inarticulate moron whenever I'm nervous. So. I promise this is going somewhere.

(*Do you have any idea what kind of superpower Migraine Nose and Pregnancy Nose become when they mate? My goodness, people. I was lying on the couch last night while James fed The Child, and I could smell the fruit cup from there. I had a blanket around my head, and I was twenty feet away, facing in the opposite direction. There's got to be a market for this.)

I hadn't intended to bring up my headache with the doctor, because what's he going to do about it? (see previous, regarding headaches making me stupid) But when he walked in (and by the way, he's a new doctor with the practice, and I love him every bit as much as I do the others, and where do they find these doctors?) and asked, "How are you today?" I said, "I've had a headache for three days, but otherwise I'm okay," intending to explain to him that headaches make me stoopid, so he would have to speak slowly and in small syllables.

Instead he said, "Oh?" all concerned-like, and then, "Is it a migraine? Does this happen often?" and a bunch of other questions I don't remember because I was too busy drooling on my socks. At that point I hadn't figured out if it was a migraine or not, so my answers were pretty useless. But he gave me a small prescription for oxycodone just so I could function until the headache went away.

Oh, and the baby is fine, and I'm gaining weight, finally, despite going days where all I can eat is lettuce. Another reason I love this practice: they listen to the woman who is actually carrying the baby. When I say something like, "Well, I think this baby's going to be a lot smaller than Grace was," I don't get patronizing head pats and stupid smiles. Dr. R told me that a woman's feel for the baby's size is about as accurate as an estimate made from ultrasound. Well, a woman who's had at least one other child to compare it to, at least. And I'm almost certain this baby is going to be small compared to The Child. Yet another reason I'm leaning more heavily toward a VBAC, but we'll wait and see on that; it's still early yet to judge the size on this one.

(I'm really sorry for the rambling, by the way. Headache is mostly gone, but I took another pill a while ago, and it makes me a little garrulous and incoherent. It also makes me really emotional. The I-love-you-so-much-I'm-crying kind of emotional, which is really weird and uncomfortable for me.)

So, I got my prescription filled (took forever because it was lunchtime), headed home, took some drugs, and then waited for the headache to go away. Only it didn't really go away. The pills definitely diminished the pain, and kind of wrapped it in a fuzzy blanket and set it far in the back of my mind, so it was no longer a flashing neon light directly in front of me. But it was still there. My mom stayed a while extra so I could lie down for a bit. And then shortly after The Child took her nap, and then James got home and did most of the parenting for the rest of the night. Cheerfully, again. I landed me a good one.

So, today has been better. I'm exhausted and my head is still protesting a little, but I got ten hours of sleep. Yeah, TEN. The Child has a sixth sense. Yesterday she was all sweetness and light and easy napping. And today has been more of the same. I keep telling people that 2.0 is going to be a nightmare from the start. She's got to be. The Child has used up all the good baby points for this family.

I've started swimming again. I know, I know, not supposed to start any new exercise during pregnancy, blah blah blah. Well, 15 minutes twice a week isn't going to bring on early labor. Especially when 8 of those minutes are spent panting in the shallow end. I needed something to make up for all the walking I'm not going to be able to do now that the weather's cold. And we are NOT going to have another winter like the last one. I didn't realize just how miserable I was until spring came, and I'd regained half the baby weight, and I could barely walk up a flight of stairs without dying.

The high school, which is just two blocks from us, has an hour of free lap swimming every Monday and Wednesday evening. It's a stupid time slot, and almost worthless, but I think I prefer it this way. If it were open every night, I'd feel pressured to go all the time, and then, of course, I wouldn't go all the time, and then I'd feel guilty, and after just a day or two of swimming, I'd quit entirely. This way I can keep reminding myself that it's only twice a week, and I can easily handle that.

I didn't go last night because my head was doing its best to force me into suicide, but I'm going tomorrow. As depressing as it was to get back in the pool and find out just how far I've fallen, I still felt really, really good afterward. My knee and foot didn't ache like they do when I haul myself around on land, and even though I'm out of shape, I'm still a darn good swimmer. It feels awesome to do something I'm good at. I'm not talentless, but I'm not a superstar in anything; I never was in swimming, either, but I think it's the furthest above average I've ever been in anything. Except for maybe Sudoku, but they don't hand out medals for that.

Monday, October 12, 2009

So much for my intuition

Well. We had a spectacularly awful night last night. I'm getting over that cold, which means I'm in the bark-like-a-seal-and-then-cry-when-your-throat-turns-to-sandpaper stage. Sometimes this cough goes away in a day or two. Sometimes it turns into a nasty little buzzard who hangs around for a week, waiting for my body to cool.

So when she screamed for two and a half, three hours last night, and I barked like a seal and cried for about the same amount of time, I felt about a thousand times worse than I did in the early mornings when she was first born. You're never going to get better! over and over again in my head. Add crappy pregnancy immune system to the lack of sleep, and we have a real storm a-brewin'.

CHILD! You used to sleep for 12 hours straight! What is your deal? I am not going to be a good mother if I'm sick for the next three weeks, ok?

I think she's getting a cold. And is on the verge of walking. Both would explain crappy sleep. But what awful timing. She was very good all day today. She hardly got a nap since today was a doctor's appointment, and we spent much of it in the car or at the doctor's office. I was optimistic about her sleep tonight.

WELL. We put her down twenty minutes ago, and she's still whimpering off and on. I'm probably going to sleep on her floor last night. Getting up out of my comfy, warm bed to go into her room every ten minutes and tell her I love her is just not something I have the will power for right now. James was up with her half the night last night, and he has to work tomorrow. I got a good hour and a half nap this evening, so I hope it works out.

Sigh. It is impossible to enjoy this pregnancy the way I did the last one. We'll have one or two really good weeks, and then she's right back to horrible sleeping again. This is bad enough when you're not pregnant. And sick. Blaaah.

On a lighter note! I had the 20-week ultrasound today. And... It's a girl! So much for "just knowing" it's a boy. Hah!

Crap. We have no girl names. I love Hava and Michal, but they're a little bit strange. Together I think they'd be really pretty. I love Ashira, too (one of my OD faves here has a daughter named Ashira). Most Old Testament girl names are really out there, though.

Anyone know of any other good female Hebrew names that aren't already used a lot? All the pretty ones, like Rachel, Rebecca, Sarah, are pretty common. I don't dislike them, but I prefer somewhat unusual names. I always liked having a name where, if I heard it in a crowd, I could be almost certain it was directed at me.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

The red and the black

I love how, now that I'm pregnant, The Child suddenly up and grows a stubborn streak and a will and a strong desire to party all night long. So my only coping tool is... lying on the couch and feeling sorry for myself. Or insane housework. It really depends on the day and what kind of mood Crazy Pregnant Lady is in. Seriously, though, I nearly shot myself last night. Three hours of Not Sleeping, for no apparent reason. She was tired, she was not in pain, she was not hungry. Milestone, perhaps? It doesn't help that I have a cold. Because I am a sissy now, colds just knock me flat. I remember just a few years ago, a cold was no big deal. Now I'm all, "I'm DYIIIIIIING!" and "MELODRAMA!" and "CAPS LOCK WHINE WHINE CAPS LOCK!"

She did do very well for a couple weeks there, and I almost caught up on sleep. I even scrubbed all the floors in the downstairs and vacuumed twice, which is pretty much unheard of. It was a very good couple of weeks.

There are box elder bugs everywhere here. Yesterday, I felt like I was in an X-Files episode--the one with the robotic cockroaches, and YES, that IS a real episode, and one of the characters' names IS Bambi, and I love it, thank you very much--, with every move I made monitored by the box elder bug hive mind. I'd walk into a room, and see on sitting on the wall above the doorway, probably staring at me. I'd go into the laundry room, and there another one was, hanging out on my sink, probably whispering discreetly into a tiny wrist watch. I walked to Piggly Wiggly (WORST grocery store name EVER, by the way, except for Sooper Dooper in Winner, SD) and at least seven managed to throw themselves under the stroller wheels. I do not know what they were trying to accomplish.

They don't really bother me as individuals. Its their omnipresence that freaks me out. I fully expect to wake up tomorrow morning to find my entire house pulsing under a red and black carpet of legs and carapace.

These are the things that happen to your brain when you watch too many sci-fi/horror shows.

Okay, I was going to make this longer, but I just realized The Child is actually sleeping for this nap, and I think that means I can attempt the same. Yay!

(cue screams... NOW)