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Bullets and Bunnies: 30 Weeks Edition

25 Jun
  • I’m 30 weeks today. I really never thought we’d get here. Now that we’re here though – I’m grateful, but it’s a little harder than I imagined it would be. I’ve said here before that I’m not loving being pregnant, and that’s not changed. Luckily, physically I’m not suffering too much but I’m truly sick and tired of missing out on life due to all of the restrictions. 4 months of basically being on house arrest have taken their toll, and now with the added dietary restrictions I can barely enjoy the bit of respite I do get. We actually went out to a movie on Saturday and there was literally a 15 minute discussion about whether or not we can buy popcorn because of the GD. I really want my body back. I’ll happily wait until B5 is full-term mind you – and have no desire to evict her any earlier, but this crap is seriously getting old.
  • With that whole “I want my body back” thing though, I’m starting to realize that in fact, that probably will never happen. My stomach is stretch-mark-palooza, despite my loyally rubbing cocoa butter on it every night. I have fondly started calling it “the cream of lies” because really it does nothing. On one hand, I am kind of fond of these little marks, because it means my belly is growing, as is B5, but I’m a bit scared to think that once you get them, they never really go away. And mine are BAD.
  • These bullets are a bit complain-y aren’t they? I think I’m just in a mood today. I’m really ok and grateful and all that fun sunshine and unicorn fart crap, I swear. I just feel like kvetching.
  • So on with the kvetching! I am a hormonal mess. At least 4 times in the last week I’ve lost my shit over something trivial. And that’s without the random crying at things. We were watching the first Star Trek reboot the other night and I literally started bawling when they started the whole “Space… The final frontier” speech at the end of the film. I still have no idea why it made me cry, but I was a mess for a good 15 minutes.
  • I’m also a ball of anxiety. I feel like I’m not letting myself be anxious about B5 as much so my anxiety is therefore being channeled into ALL THE THINGS. Today I found myself spending a nice chunk of time worrying about things that are literally 5 years down the road. Then when I talked myself down from that, I got worried about Shmerson driving tonight after work because he’s tired. Then I started worrying about my cholesterol levels once this pregnancy is over. My brain is screwy, seriously. I’ve got enough to be worried about, I don’t get why I’m insisting on adding more.
  • One thing I’m genuinely concerned about is that my blood glucose levels have been borderline. My high-risk OB decided not to medicate the GD for now but I’m kind of questioning whether that’s the best thing. I’ve had some high readings this week (on average one meal a day and the rest is ok, and I don’t know what’s causing the high readings), and B5 is measuring on track, when before she was consistently 4-5 days behind. I know it’s silly to worry about measuring on track, but I can’t help but think that her growth spurt may have something to do with the GD, and the issue may get worse. Problem is, my next appointment isn’t for a couple of weeks, and I’m wondering what the occasional high readings will do until then, because I don’t want them to hurt her. Who wants to talk me down?
  • Ok enough kvetching. Time for a technical note: Google Reader is going away on July 1st, so anyone who follows me via the reader should find an alternative. If you don’t want a whole new blog-reading platform, then please do subscribe to the blog via email with the button on the top right of this page. If you’re still looking for an alternative, I’ve been using Netvibes. It’s a bit clunkier and it took me a while to get the settings right – but it’s been doing the job. Plus, I could import my entire reading list there, which was handy (though did require some reading up on exporting and importing RSS subscription lists).
  • On a totally unrelated note, I’m officially back on the crack that is “Toddlers and Tiaras” . I have no clue why I insist on inflicting this on myself, but there ya go.
  • So that’s about it. Sorry for the whiny post. I promise you guys I’m doing well, just going a bit stir-crazy and craving chocolate cake and ice cream. Here’s a bunny to make up for the kvetch:


This Whole Time Thing

29 May

Shmerson and I celebrated our 3 year anniversary on Monday. Unlike last year or the year before, where we had gone someplace extravagant for several days, this one was relatively low-key.

Anniversaries have been bittersweet for us, since most of our marriage has been marred with loss. My first miscarriage was barely two months after our wedding. This year was no exception. There was celebrating, and speculating, and also a bit of crying.

The interesting thing about the day was dinner. We had a long talk, and it was more or less the first time we had an extended conversation about B5, as not just an idea, but as our daughter. Questions of raising her – everything from internet etiquette to sleeping arrangements.

It was a wonderful hopeful conversation.

Of course I had a panic attack a little later, but I still think it was progress.


This GD thing is really effing with me. Well, not just the GD. Time in general.

I am soooo ready to get this over with. I sooo want this pregnancy to be over. Yet I know we need every single week now for her to grow. I know we need at least 11 more weeks.

Sometimes 11 weeks seem like nothing, and other times – most times – it feels endless. The tedium of GD, and having my day split up into 3-hour increments, and always having to figure out all of this food stuff is exhausting, and just makes everything seem longer.

We said we would wait until 28 weeks to start preparing for her arrival, but the truth is I’m eager to start doing everything now. Like maybe looking at cribs and debating the merits of a changing table will make the time pass by faster.

But more like – maybe it will make everything seem a bit more real.

I’m still terrified, but the fact is that there is a fairly good chance we have a baby girl entering our lives sometime in August or September (please please not a moment sooner).

Man that feels weird to type up. I’m probably going to pay for that with a panic attack later. Good times.

Does anyone have a time-speeder-upper-type-thing I could borrow?

Hitting a Wall

25 May

It started last night when the family was over for dinner and afterwards I pulled some watermelon out of the fridge and spent an hour staring at it longingly because I couldn’t eat it and everyone else could.

It dragged into today. The feeling that this is endless. That here again is yet ANOTHER thing I can’t do. I can’t leave the house. I can’t take a freaking walk. I can’t even eat some freaking fruit without there being consequences.

So today, 3 months to go seems endless. Seems like forever.

The worst part of this is is how much I hate being pregnant. How I want to be past this already – but I can’t wish that. I can’t let her come early, that would be awful. She needs to stay in there for another 11 and a half weeks at least.

It’s like a never-ending cycle of guilt over here. Guilt and feeling miserable because I’m freaking not allowed to do anything. And poor Shmerson, he has to live with this.

Everybody keeps on telling me this will be worth it in the end. I know that’s probably true. But right now everything just seems endless and sucky.

Sugar Withdrawal

23 May

So first of all – thank you everyone. Your comments on my last post were amazing.

Things have been slowly sinking in, today being the first day of the new GD regimen. Here are some conclusions, pardon the bullets:

  • Always read instructions on your glucose meter. It took me 5 pricks to get a reading this morning, all because I thought the nurse’s training was enough, and I didn’t bother to read the meter instructions. It was a bloodbath. A funny, comedy of errors type of bloodbath, but a bloodbath nonetheless. My fingers don’t like me anymore as a result.
  • Squish pointed out some smart things to me yesterday (that were echoed in the comments). This is exactly the type of control-freaky stuff that I love. I have numbers and regimens to deal with, and that totally feeds into my control-freak nature. So that’s a plus. I have numbers to obsess over! Yay! Or something!
  • When I mentioned the increased C-Section rate with GD to her, Squish wisely pointed out that since my last labor and birth were traumatic beyond words, maybe something that is the polar opposite (i.e. a C-Section rather than a natural birth) would be a good experience for us. Even healing. It’s not that I want a C-Section, in fact, that’s one of the things I LEAST WANT EVER. But thinking about it that way makes that option feel far less daunting. Does that make any sense?
  • This actually means I get to see my high-risk OB more often. That means more cervix measurements and ultrasounds. That is always a good thing in my book.
  • I did A LOT of reading and asked A LOT of questions yesterday. I was purposefully looking for things that would endanger B5. I wanted to know the worst-case scenario. I now understand that the worst-case scenario here isn’t that bad. As long as I manage this, she should be fine. All the warnings I saw were only if the condition went untreated, and I plan on treating the hell out of it. I’ve never looked so hard for disaster ever without finding it. This time I didn’t find it. So that is a huge relief.
  • I really need to wrap my head around this viability thing. I’m still acting and thinking as if we haven’t hit that point. I’m still feeling like things could easily go terribly wrong, even though the odds are way more in our favor this time. I’m hoping this will go away in time, because I’m sick and tired of being terrified.
  • I don’t think I realized just how much sugar and how many carbs I was ingesting in a given day. I thought that at least in the last month or so I started eating healthier. I was wrong.
  • Sugar withdrawal is a bitch. Seriously. I’ve been craving sweet stuff all day. And B5 has been much less active today as things even out. I even pulled out the doppler at one point because she was too still for my tastes. I guess we both have to get used to this no-sugar thing.
  • Three months and I can have chocolate again. Only three months.
  • I bought the “I’m With Stupid” maternity shirt last night, as sort of a “fuck you universe” statement. It is officially the first true piece of maternity clothing I have ever purchased (I’ve been making due with tunics, stretchy dresses and plus-size). I hope nothing explodes or catches fire as a result. I’ll keep you guys posted.
  • GD sucks, but I think we’ll manage.


It’s Official

22 May

As of yesterday, I officially have Gestational Diabetes. Got my glucose monitor and all that fun stuff today.

I don’t even know how to react at this point.

Apart from being fucking terrified as usual, I mostly I feel guilt, because everyone was concerned this would happen. They tried to be tactful about it but the fact is this happened because I’m fat.

I can’t even describe the amount of guilt and self-flagellation going on in my head right now.

I’m hurting my baby and this time it is my fault.  Yes, I’ve been on bed rest for the last three months. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t have the chance to shut my effing mouth and just eat less.

I fucking hate this.

The Double-Edged ‘V’ Word

14 May

Ok – I never thought that viability would be a clear-cut transition, as in one minute I’m an anxiety ball and the next the queen of zen. That didn’t happen and I didn’t expect it to.

Yeah – today we reached viability. Yesterday we had our second Level II scan.

And how am I feeling? Weird.


Your comments on my last post kind of shook me, I admit.

Don’t get me wrong – I am unendingly grateful for your support but they were all so cheery. It scared the crap out of me. Am I really ready to be cheery?

There’s a huge part of me that is feeling better. But that’s what’s scary. Feeling better means getting more attached. Getting more attached means having more at stake if something were (FSM forbid) to go wrong.

Shmerson is now more anxious than ever.  He’s been hovering and scolding me to take it easy. And me…? Weird. Weird is the word.

I still can’t visualize a positive outcome, but I’m visualizing a negative one less often, and that’s huge for me. But then each time I dare myself to see something good, I retreat back into emotional detachment out of complete terror.

But again – this feeling is SO WEIRD you guys. The truth is I don’t know how I feel, and I guess that’s how it’ll be for a while.

I guess I’m drawing a new calendar now – counting till 28 weeks. Maybe by then my emotions will be able to sort themselves out.

In other news, B5 is doing just fine, and that is, truly and without cynicism, a miracle.

Oh – and the doc wrote “difficulty with examination due to obesity” on the scan results. That kind of sucked.

Hey! There are two emotions right there! Guilt about being a beached whale and awe at the fact that there is definitely a non-alien (10 fingers and 10 toes! We counted!)  camping out in my ute.

That’s a start I suppose.

This is How Deep it Goes

6 May

Today I’m 22 weeks, 6 days. Officially the longest I’ve ever been pregnant.

I was talking to ABD today when I let myself actually speak for a bit as if B5 is actually going to arrive safe and sound in 15 – 18 weeks.

It was nice.

But then I hung up and immediately started to freak out that I may have jinxed it. I was very close to a panic attack before I managed to talk myself down.

Anybody else go through this? Does it ever get easier?


Randomness – Or – The Return of Bullets and Bunnies? Why the Heck Not

1 May
  • Too many things racing around my head tonight, so bullets it is! I may even add a bunny at the end for old time’s sake. 
  • So has officially been sniped and put up for sale for an obscene amount of money. That’s what I get for not renewing on time, I guess. I’m just hoping that everyone is finding the wordpress address again without any problems.
  • I feel like a frickin beached whale. I’m 22 weeks, 1 day and I have gained THIRTY POUNDS during this pregnancy so far. I’m officially the heaviest I’ve ever been and it’s scary because I’m finding it harder to lug around this body. I’ve started seeing a dietician but I’m really scared of the extra weight causing more problems like GD and high blood pressure. Never mind that if by some miracle I make it to term I will be a giant. And I’m only 5″3, that’s saying something. I’m afraid of becoming as wide as I am tall. I know I should go easy on myself because of bed rest and all that. But seriously. I am huge. And I hate it. And yet I’m too depressed and at risk to really be proactive about anything except cutting down on sugar. Urgh.
  • One of my best friends just had a baby with his partner via donor egg and surrogate, and he brought her over to meet me today. He’s probably reading this so I hope it doesn’t make him feel bad – but on some level meeting his beautiful girl made me sad. Usually I embrace babies and just crush on them like crazy and that makes me feel better. This time it didn’t work. I couldn’t help but look at her and feel how far away my own baby girl feels for me right now. I hope reading this doesn’t make him not bring her around again. Because I still love her to bits and want to see her as much as I can. I didn’t realize how sad I was until after they left. ABD don’t be mad I didn’t share that with you today. I love you both like crazy,
  • Everybody keeps reminding me how ridiculously close to viability I am right now. But the thing is the closer I get, the farther away it feels. Does that make any sense? I lost Nadav 1 week and two days before viability. So the closer I get, the more dangerous and precarious everything feels.
  • I think this is what gets me most: I know I was scared last time, but deep down I truly believed Nadav would arrive safely. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Now I feel like believing that B5 will get here safe and sound somehow jinxes it. So I can’t let myself even dream about that. Does that make any sense?
  • I hate this so so effing much. Seriously. Can someone knock me out for the next couple of weeks? That would make things so much easier.

Here’s a bunny to end on a nicer note. This one always makes me laugh:


On Being a Bad Fortune Cookie Joke

29 Apr

First a couple of notes: My domain default is now set back to, so anybody who was having problems getting to my last post through their email and/or commenting –  hopefully that will no longer be a problem. Hopefully I’ll have my old domain back soon enough… In the meantime, if you’re still having problems, please contact me so I can work out the kinks. Thanks!

Second: Thank you! The positive outpouring from my last post has been overwhelming. You guys rock.

Now back to our regularly scheduled blog post.

I guess it’s time for a “head space” update, since I’ve been away for so long.

So most of you know how it goes. You open up a fortune cookie, read the fortune, and tack the words “in bed” at the end of it, because – you know – that’s funny and stuff. (That’s what she said.)

So to demonstrate: You will have a great windfall… In bed. Bend the rod while it is still hot… In bed. And so forth. So that’s been my life for the last 9-ish weeks (is that all really? It feels like so much longer).

Ok that’s not exactly true. I’m on modified bed rest. Which basically means I can do some stuff. And I don’t really have to stay in bed. It’s more like couch rest, really (but that’s not nearly as catchy). However, that doesn’t make me any less stir crazy. I can’t cook, clean, or do laundry. I leave the house on average once every two weeks for a doctor’s appointment. I think the couch is already taking on a nice little indentation of my butt. So that’s awesome.

I lucked out because I spent the first third of my pregnancy securing long-term content clients, so I have plenty of work to keep me busy. The problem is it doesn’t keep me distracted from the SHEER TERROR. Because seriously guys, I’m terrified. Constantly. And I love this little girl already so much that it hurts. And the thought that I can still lose her paralyzes me.

I’ve also been really detached from friends and family. I don’t call people much or text or do much of anything, because I just feel like on one hand, I don’t want to talk about what I’m going through, and on the other hand that’s all I can think about so I can’t really talk about anything else.

And watching TV or movies isn’t working well to distract either. We even bought a new Xbox and that’s not making a dent in distracting me from the sheer terror. So that’s fun.

So everything I’ve done in the last 9 weeks has only really been done with about 25% of my brain power, because I can’t stop thinking about how scary all of this is, and about how everything can go wrong in a matter of seconds. That’s where 75% of my brain power is right now. If not more.

Just don’t tell my clients. That would be baaaaad.

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