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Tag Archives: bed rest

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.

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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?

Grrrr.

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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 mommyodyssey.com 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:

 

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On Being a Bad Fortune Cookie Joke

29 Apr

First a couple of notes: My domain default is now set back to mommyodyssey.wordpress.com, 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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Please Don’t Hate Me

16 Jan

Ok, first thing’s first: Thank you everyone for your feedback on my last post. I posted a status that night (which basically ended up being a hybrid of all three suggestions) and it was amazing to get an such an outpouring of joy and congratulatory gushing. It made me feel normal for a few minutes, which was nice.

Now back to the post at hand.

*Warning: Pregnancy complaints ahead, please feel free to skip if you’re not in a good place right now.

Going on week three of bed rest, and today was just lovely – cramping, spotting, and to top it all off a killer sinus headache. I have become a zombie holed up in a blanket fort. I’m not liking this one bit.

I spend almost all day every day worrying. Most couples would be shopping for strollers, or at least feeling confident enough to go to a maternity store by now. Something.

Not me. I’m stuck in bed in an anti social haze.

And I’ve realized something. There have been a few BFPs in the blogosphere this week, and when usually these announcements either had me slightly jealous or absolutely ecstatic, I now find myself feeling SORRY for them. I just think, “oh crap, they’ve got a hard nine months ahead, poor things.”

Guys, I’m sorry – but I hate being pregnant. I despise it. Every day I’m either on bed rest, feeling sick, or just worried that something will go terribly wrong.

Pregnancy is not unicorns and rainbows, it’s a means to an end. And right now the only thing keeping me relatively sane is trying to visualize our little baby boy.

But that also makes me attached, and worried. And therefore even more miserable.

That’s why I’ve barely been blogging. All I can wrap my head around is just how freaking miserable this whole situation is.

Go ahead, curse me and hate me for saying it. It’s ok, I already pretty much hate myself for feeling it.

Urgh. (Hopefully) 22 weeks to go. (Please please please stay in there shmaby boy).

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Bullets and Bunnies – Pregnant Zombie Edition

14 Dec
  • The funny thing about being on forced bed rest is that I’ve kind of gotten used to it. I spend all day doing absolutely nothing. So much nothing that I don’t know if I’ll be able to actually get back into the land of the living. I’ve been feeling a bit zombie-ish, but for now, I’m kind of ok with that.
  • We went to the Russian on Monday just to follow up after Friday’s scare. I got my first external U/S and there was joking all around that it’s about time I stop getting things stuck up my cootch. Shmaby is doing fine, and the Russian confirmed the low-lying placenta diagnosis. He’s not too worried, and thinks it will most likely right itself in time.
  • You know how sometimes someone says something to you, and for some reason, you just don’t understand the string of words? So the Russian says to me: “Avoid intercourse for the next couple of weeks.” I say “What?” He says: “Avoid intercourse” “What?” It sounded like a jumble, I don’t know what I was expecting – a complex medical term? It sounded like jibberish. He sounded it out: “A-VOID IN-TER-COURSE!” “Oh!” I say. The Russian laughs and looks at Shmerson “I guess you don’t really remember what that is huh?” I laughed my ass off. I seriously love the Russian.
  • He officially proclaimed that he doesn’t want to see my face before our Level 2 scan on January 4th. For once, I agree with him. As much as I love seeing the Shmaby, I don’t like all of these scares. I’m pretty much done with them, thank-you-very-much.
  • The thing about seeing the Shmaby in all its Shmaby-ness glory three times in less than a week, is that it all seems way more real now. I think this may actually stick. I’ll be 13 weeks on Friday, and I’m starting to really think I may be pushing out a take-home baby in about six months. Weird.
  • Even weirder? I didn’t burst out in flames for typing that out. Freaky. Though I do find myself resisting the urge to run to the bedroom to check on the Shmaby with the doppler each time I dare talk about this pregnancy as if it may last. 9 times out of ten my resistance wins out. I guess that’s a good thing. 🙂
  • Friday will be my first blogaversary. I’m working on a huge introspective post. Hopefully I’ll be de-zombified enough to finish it up!
  • And now, a bunny. I hope you guys are all having a great week!

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12 Weeks – Well isn’t This Just Awesome…

9 Dec

So two days – that was how long I had to revel in the awesome NT scan.

Warning: TMI Alert!

I woke up with morning with some major brown bleeding. Not just spots – there was gushing.

Honestly? I wasn’t that worried. I figured it was a result with my date with wandy a couple of days back.

But then, there was a clot. The bleeding stopped right after, but there was a clot.

 

First thing I did? Ran to the doppler and found a heartbeat. That calmed me down a bit, but I knew I needed more. I texted the Russian. His clinic is closed today but he told me to get my ass to an U/S ASAP.

So I called health services and found a doctor who saw patients on Friday (I couldn’t bare the thought of going to an ER), and off we went.

Shmaby is ok. Measuring 3 days ahead (!) and even waved hello to us (new pic up on the Shmaby page).

The emergency doc thinks the bleed is because the placenta is low, but he’s not sure that this is what caused it. Either way, he didn’t find any other cause and all looks well.

Just in case he ordered me on bed rest for a week. So that’s where we’re at. On the threshold of starting to enjoy this, and now bed rest and clots. Awesome.

We’ll be seeing the Russian on Monday. For now, I’m happy we got another peek and happier that we have a doppler in the house.

Urgh.

80% pizza to 20% Shmaby. I think.

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