Saturday, August 30, 2008

I'm a Planner

I don't know why, but telling people I'm pregnant is the weirdest feeling. I'm 28. I'm married. So why is it so hard? Telling people I was engaged was so easy. I was excited, and for the most part, I knew what peoples' reactions would be to the news. Perhaps it's all the the other emotions that go along with having a baby that is making it so hard for me to share the news, or maybe I'm trying to prolong the inevitable - the unsolicited advice I'll receive from some people. Don't get me wrong, I am excited about this, too, but when I was engaged to be married, I could plan. Everything. To the minute. There was an itinerary, a guest list, a playlist (including dos and don'ts), tuxes, bridesmaids dresses... And, let's be honest here, I knew people would listen to me because I was the bride, damn it! Of course I was nervous about everything going "right" on our wedding day, but in the end, I knew that even if something went wrong, all that really mattered was that Mike was there and our families and friends were there to share the day with us.

When it comes to having a child, you can't plan. Well, you can, but there are so many variables that can change those plans, both good and bad. Someone can catch the flu and puke on you in the middle of the night, so you're up until 3am doing laundry, calming crying, and you still have to get up and go to work in the morning. Or someone can make the all star team, and instead of going to your high school class reunion next weekend (yikes!) you'll spend the weekend on the sidelines cheering them on and saying, "That's my kid!"

That's such a trite example, but do you see where I'm going with this? I guess what it comes down to is a fear of the unknown. I have about 29 weeks to prepare for the birth of our baby, and - no matter how many books I read - I will never truly be prepared for the experience. And then, when we bring our little bundle of joy home, there will be so much for us to learn, and so much for us to teach. And there will come a day... well, I'm not sure I'm ready to think that far into the future quite yet - because, even I know, there is no amount of planning that can prepare you for the teen years!

I guess when I think about it, all I can do is plan [as much as possible], prepare, take some deep breaths, remember to relax and have fun, and hope that everything will turn out just fine... the same thing I did on my wedding day.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Prenatal Visit #1

Picking up where I left off... My first prenatal visit was a week ago, and all-in-all, things went good. Most of the appointment was spent with Kathy, my OB's nurse, answering questions about health history. She went through a packet that was probably more than four pages long of things that "if I've never heard of, I've probably never had."

When my doctor came in, I had my annual cha-cha inspection (everything was fine, in case you're wondering), she explained some of the tests my blood would be drawn for, and then she said, "Let me go see if the ultrasound is available." She came back, ultrasound in tow, and I couldn't have been happier. I got to see the baby, and see it's little heart beating. It was pretty incredible.

Find the baby, and you get a cookie!
After my appointment, it was time to head over to the lab at Sierra Vista to pee in a cup (my second of the day, actually) and have my blood drawn. Now, of course I get a little nervous when I have to have blood work done - if you don't, I'm sorry, you're weird. I don't necessarily get nervous because of the pain - I have two tattoos, and at one time had 11 piercings (all above the neck, FYI) but because my veins are almost always hard to find, and I HATE the feeling of a needle moving around in my arm. *shudder* Anywho, the lab was pretty full when I got there, and seemed to be a little understaffed. There was only one phlebotomist in the lab when I got there, so when she started helping another patient, she called in a second for backup. Well, the lady who came in to help her did not want to be there (when she walked into the lab, she said in a thick accent, "I am busy! I have things to do.") And guess who was going to take my blood. Yay for me.

I got in her chair, signed some paperwork, and she tied the rubber thingy onto my bicep. And she rubbed, and tapped, and pressed all over my arm. No luck. OK, let's try the left arm. Rub, tap, press. No Luck. Back to the right arm. "Have you had a lot of water to drink today?" she barked.

"No," I responded.

"Well, you should have known."

Whoa there tiger, I'm sorry I didn't realize I was dehydrated when I woke up at 6:00 this morning to get ready for my doctor's appointment, and still didn't know when I got to the doctor's office at 8:15, sat in the waiting room for 20 minutes, had my appointment that lasted an hour, and headed straight over here to have six tubes of blood drawn so I could maybe get to work before noon.

Anyway, she finally found two veins. One was on the underside of my forearm, and the other was on the underside of my wrist - yeah, as in teenage angst, want to slit your wrist, part of my wrist. And guess which one was a sure thing? She told me it would hurt, but I did not want to get poked twice, so I told her just to go for it. Honestly, the initial poke did not hurt all that much. She used the tiniest needle possible (which was OK with me), so it took a while to fill up all six tubes. And then came the painful part: apparently, the type of needle she used had a button on it that made it retract really fast (I had never seen this before). When she pushed the button, it made an awful noise, and it seriously felt like the needle broke off in my arm. She put a piece of gauze on my wrist, and proceeded to wrap medical tape 3/4 of the way around - oh yeah, she stuck it to arm hair.

So, aside from the crazy lady at the lab, my first prenatal visit was pretty great. My doctor is fantastic, the baby seems to be developing well and we got to take our very first baby picture.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Cry Baby

Mike has just read the blog I wrote yesterday, and noted that I made it sound like he cried like a little baby when he found out I was pregnant. Let me go on the record and say, he did not cry, it was me. I apologize for the confusion.

OK, are we good now, honey?

I Love America

Totally off subject, but c'mon, these are flip-floppin' hilarious! Just what I want... Obama and McCain checkin' out my cha-cha.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Knocked Up

I haven't blogged in a while, and it's because I've been keeping a huge secret. And I'm horrible at keeping secrets. Just ask Mike, I don't think he's ever gotten a present from me without already having some idea what it is - except for the last birthday present I got him, but I digress.

Anyway, I've been keeping a big secret. I'm pregnant! Eight weeks to be exact. I had my first prenatal appointment today, and everything seems to be progressing normally. Before today, we've told a handful of people, and their reactions have ranged anywhere from my brother's complete speechlessness, to tears of joy, to total jump-up-and-down excitement. What was my reaction? Well, when I first found out, I was shaking like a hula girl on the dashboard of a big rig... and then I cried. It was a scene straight out of an after school special. I called Mike to the bathroom, and came out, ept in hand and said, "Well, I know why I haven't started my period..." He finished my sentence, "You're pregnant." And that's when the tears came. It was exciting, yet unexpected, and totally overwhelming. This was huge.

Let me back up a little bit here. Before we got married last October, we discovered that we had some fertility issues. I won't go into too many details, but the short version is that we were told by a specialist that we had a 2% chance of conceiving on our own. He had worked with another couple in our situation, and he said that it took them eight years to conceive without any fertility treatments. Well, after we got married, we decided that it would be OK if I went off of birth control - after all, it made me really moody, and with our apparent fertility issues, we weren't too concerned about pregnancy.

Fast forward to late July of this year. I just wasn't feeling right. My boobs were killing me, I was getting cramps, but no period. Hmm. I waited, and waited, and finally grabbed my calendar. I was about 10 days late. On my way home from work, I stopped at Rite Aid to grab some odds and ends, and also picked up a three pack of EPTs. When I got home, I said hello to Mike, and quickly made my way into the bathroom. I peed on the stick, and, well, you know the rest.

One thing that I've learned so far about being pregnant is that there is a lot to learn about being pregnant. Oh, and not to mention a lot to learn about giving birth and raising a child! It's all a bit overwhelming.

Some other first trimester tidbits: "Morning sickness" is the biggest misnomer. Who came up with that anyway? I haven't had "morning sickness," I've had bouts of nausea on and off throughout the day, accompanied by what I like to refer to as "hangover burps" - you know, the ones that make you feel better, but you still feel like you could puke at any moment? But, I haven't puked at all. And believe me, there have been times where I've just wished that I would. Blech. I'm exhausted. At the end of a work day, all I want to do is come home, eat dinner (I'm hungry all the time, too, and when I get really hungry, I also get really nauseous - which in turn makes it hard to eat) and go to bed. At 9:15, I'm usually ready to hit the sack. The other night, Mike said, "It's barely past 9!" To which I cleverly responded, "Uh, I'm growing a person over here. It makes me kind of tired." Ah, hormonally induced humor - gotta love it.

Anywho... speaking of exhausted, I'm done. Brain is ceasing to work. More later... including details about my wonderful trip to the lab for blood work - stupid tiny veins. Ouch!