Glucose tolerance test with a republican gun twist

Finally got my butt to the lab for some more poking and prodding. Can’t complain, it’s been a while since last time.  Got up bright and early after fasting for 10 hours and having mentally prepared myself to chug down 8 ounces (237 ml) of extremely brightly colored orange liquid, containing 75 grams of sugar. And god knows how much dye and artificial flavoring, but to my untrained non-chemist eye: a shitload. The damn thing was struggling to stay in solution.

I thought I’d get a pin prick before drinking to establish a fasting level, but they just tossed me a bottle and told me to drink up, wait an hour and then proceeded with the stab and jab for the needed tests. I thought I’d broken up with Nausea for good a couple of months ago, but the bitch was hiding in that orange bottle. As I waited out my hour, it was all I could do to keep it down. I don’t know why it was so gnarly, it’s not like I have an awkward relationship with sugar. We are best buds.

It didn’t help the situation that a fat bastard dressed to the nines in hunting gear rolled into the lab when I had about half an  hour to go. After checking in, he started a one man Republican rally, rambling on about how Obama was not going to take his guns. His plan of action, faced with the dreadful prospect of bringing guns up to registration levels of, oh say maybe cats/dogs/cars was to add a crossbow to the collection and “go all natural on their asses”.  I was oddly comforted by that thought, as I can’t see this man having the upper body strength to actually use one, or how he’s going to aim an arrow at anyone over that 300 lbs gut he was sporting.
Part 2 of the speech was titled “of course maniacs and mentally ill people should not have guns, that is just ridiculous” but then added that it was unconstitutional to screen anyone for mental illness, because “that shit is private matter and the gubberment does not need to be up in everybody’s business”.

As you might imagine, this did very little to combat Nausea. I did decide that if I was going to toss cookies I’d aim for my new buddy, since the color would nicely compliment his orange suspenders and orange hunting hat.  By some miracle I was able to keep it down until the lab tech came to get me. I’ve never before been so happy to see someone who wanted to stick me with needles and steal my blood.


Drizzly Friday

There are a lot of things to like about Florida in the summer – just about everything except the cursed heat that lasts forever. Since spring and fall are pretty nonexistent, it’s the winters that are my favorite. Especially when it gets cold (by Florida standards) and a little gray and dreary. The past couple of days have been excellent like that.

Today the me and the Bean start into week 28. The iPhone app says she’s now around the size of a “Chinese cabbage“. I have no idea what that is, but it resembles a head of romaine lettuce, just a little thicker. I guess this is this is the official start of the third trimester and that is a pretty exciting milestone.  I feel big and round already and I’m really not sure how mother nature plans on  packing another 3 months of baby-growing into my belly. Next up is a butternut squash, then large cabbage, a bag of oranges, jicama, pineapple and as of week 32 we start going through the melons. If I make it to 40 weeks, the grand price is a small pumpkin. Yikes.

Things are definitely getting a lot more real and I’m coming to terms with the thought that in a few not-so-short weeks, there will be a whole new little person in the world. I swing between excited and terrified. I’ve never been a baby-gaga person and I’ll be the first one to admit that I don’t really have a clue what I’m getting into. On the bright side I have a great support network of friends and family that a) know what they are doing and b) are willing to lend a hand, so this should all work out somehow.

The Bean is coming along nicely I think, and is especially fond of kick sessions right when I’m ready to go to sleep. Watching my belly bop up and down from kicks and punches is getting to be my favorite part of this pregnancy, FAR more entertaining than nausea, insomnia, bloating, farting and all that other stuff.
And on that note, a swift kick to the ribs to remind me to get back to work.

Have a great weekend everyone!



Not sure why, but I’ve been a little wiggy lately.  Well actually that is horse shit, I know exactly why. There has been a lot going on, but like a good little westerner, I try to gloss it over, pull up the big-girl pants (getting bigger by the day) and troop on.

A couple of weeks ago I had a little tiff with my doctor, which ended with me firing his ass. Long story short, he casually presented me with results that were not mine and could have had dire consequences if they were. The whole conduct I found quite unprofessional and then in trying to see the actual results and setting shit straight, they were less than cooperative. This caused an incredible amount of stress for both me and presumably baby Bean, that was entirely avoidable. Over a week later and I’m still waiting for a callback from the office, despite following up several times. So, off with their heads – there is no chance that I want that doctor anywhere near me when it comes time for delivery. I’m on the hunt for a new OB now – the best in the world preferably, because I have a bit of a built-in distrust for the medical profession in general.
Husband gets 5 stars for his performance during the whole episode. While I turned into a blubbering sobbing mess that spent half a day crying at the dog park, he shook the network into action, got facts, lined up tests, brought me bubbly water with lemon and put the world right again. He’s going to make a great daddy.

Then a good friend had himself a little heart episode and is currently in the hospital getting that condition under control. He’s one of the lucky ones that actually had warning signals and heeded them, so everything looks like it will have a fabulous ending there. Phew.

So between those two big ones and a few smaller stressors, I must have let my guard down a little, because Nausea showed up again. She’s not as feisty as the first time around so thankfully I’m not feeling as dreadful.  Just shrunken appetite and predictable sink spewing – especially in the kitchen. I don’t know what it is about my kitchen sink, but it’s become my all-time favorite location for puking. Perfect counter height, great access to fresh water to rinse my mouth out after and a pleasant view out the kitchen window as I retch. So much better than using a toilet – I’m really surprised this isn’t covered in the pregnancy books.  And lo and behold, this time it’s true morning sickness, and I feel fine for the rest of the day.

Snot on

14+ short weeks ago, when that sperm met that egg, the pregnancy gods were having party. Of the rowdy kind, doing shots of tequila, having fun and feeling generous. And in their infinite kindness and through their drunken haze, they bestowed on me the Deluxe Supreme All Options Included Pregnancy Package. At no extra charge.

By now, I think I have finally left the puking days behind me. My constant companion, Nausea, has been faithfully by my side through thick and thin. A few days ago I was sure I could feel her grip starting to slip, and momentarily rejoiced.
Then I started sneezing and soon sensed the snot factory kick into action. Ahhhh I thought to myself, just a little fall cold, I can handle that – piece of cake compared to puking, right? Wrong.
Not a fall cold, not allergies, not just a little dust up my nose. It’s ANOTHER SNEAKY DAMN SYMPTOM of pregnancy, that fails to be widely publicized. The literature chalks it up to hormonal changes causing additional blood flow to mucous membranes. That, combined with added blood volume, causes the lining of sinus/nasal passages to swell and sometimes restricting the airflow. There is even a fancy term; Pregnancy Rhinitis. The good news is that although it can last for the entire pregnancy it should clear up right after delivery.
Even if I’m not experiencing a runny nose – only congestion and sinus pressure along with mad backwash, I am not feeling particularly grateful. My mood is more along the “pissed” and “where the fuck is my blissful 2nd trimester” lines.

Damn you, Estrogen and your skanky hormonal cohorts. And again Evolution – what the fuck? Taking the whole survival of the fittest a bit far, aren’t we?

Evolution, a word please.

Right now, Evolution.  We need to talk. Seeing that I’m totally on board with the dinosaurs, a big fan of Charles Darwin and all that, we’ve been on pretty good terms until now. But at this stage, I’d like an explanation for this “morning” sickness nonsense – I’d like it now, and it better be really effing good.

Even if I’m no longer playing an upside down volcano over the toilet (or sink), I’m still feeling pretty icky, and quite frankly it’s gone on long enough.
Plus, I’d like to know WHY other mammals (or animals in general) that reproduce sexually are not subjected to this. It hardly seems fair. And don’t throw back the whole “original sin” bullshit, you know that the two of you are not compatible.
You can leave your answer in the comments or get it to me any way other you choose, but I really am curious as to the reason. Thank you very much, Evolution, I look forward to hear from you almost as much as I look forward to having some semblance of my former self back.  That load of laundry from  yesterday, still in the dryer, probably all nicely wrinkled up by now. Work in progress, I tell you.

Oh and while we are on topic, a short essay on the fucked up placement of the bladder in front and below the uterus, please. Really, Evolution?  Was gravity not around when you made that excellent placement call?

Harboring a miniature terrorist

Well, maybe that is taking it too far, and calling your future offspring a terrorist is definitely not going to win me any parenting awards. Not that I was in any danger of those anyway, as I hail from a long line of irresponsible Scandinavian mothers that abandon their children sleeping in prams to go inside stores and cafés.  I know that is not something you can do here in the Land of the Free, because baby snatchers are everywhere. Plus, I’m in Florida, the pram would catch on fire.

But back to terrorism. I’ve come to realize that it’s of the chemical warfare kind, and the hell unleashed on me by this little thing currently the size of a medium shrimp is no joke. So far baby progression has been measured mostly in fruit, but since shrimp can cause violent vomiting, I suspect this is no accident.

I have high hopes for next week when we transition to a lemon. Compared to shrimps, lemons are very, very nice.

Insomnia, you heartless cow

Frankly, I’m not sure how I am to ever enter into the elusive state of pregnancy glow if I can’t get a decent night of sleep!

Between daily battles with Nausea and Exhaustion, I don’t have much left to fight off Insomnia. I’m usually up 2-3 times per night, sometimes to pee, sometimes for no reason at all. On occasion I can go right back to sleep, but more often than not, I find myself wide awake – and in the past few days – HUNGRY!
Since Nausea seems to get the night off, I’ve been sneaking into the kitchen for some puke-free eating, which is heavenly.

I’m pretty new to this Insomnia thing, as up until now I’ve been an easy sleeper. Pretty much whenever wherever – if my head is near a pillow, I’m out. I generally don’t do well with drugs, so I’m trying to stay away from pharmaceutical sleep-aids the best I can.
So I read… or play games on my phone and wait for sleepiness to come back. Which it usually does, about 30 minutes before it’s time to get up. Sigh.

I’m told soon the tides will turn and I’ll get my second trimester wind. I’m ready…  any day now!

Can it be, do I see light at the end of the tunnel?

The past few weeks seem like they have just been dragging on by.
Nausea apparently has this super power of slowing time down so that you get every opportunity to feel her evil tentacles crawl through your entire body. The healthy living and active pregnancy I had envisioned have not been happening, not even a little bit.
Up until growing a baby, I think the physically hardest thing I’ve done was to train for – and finish – a half ironman. I did that whilst decked out with a blood clot in my left leg, making running pretty un-fun (even more un-fun than it comes standard). I was pretty proud of that shit for a while, but now I realize those efforts pale in comparison with the feat of getting up, getting showered, and keeping down a bowl of cereal every morning.  And to add insult to an injury, nobody is there at the end of the cereal bowl to tell me “good job” and hand me a medal.

I’m finally starting to see glimmers of hope, faint wisps of a promise saying I will not have to spend my entire life like this. That one day “food” will mean more than Saltines and Honey O’s.  Maybe even a hot meal one day. And return to yoga, and possibly even going swimming or doing something completely crazy like that. I know I’m not quite there yet, but for the time being I’ll relish the small victories, such as not having had a violent throw-up session since last Thursday. The little things!


A trip through the 7 circles of hell, aka first trimester

So, it’s semi public by now and therefore blogaboutable, right?
Indeed. As it stands, I’m busy growing another human. It was quite a surprise, but a pleasant one, after the initial “where the hell is my period and why are my boobs so sore” reaction.

The first couple of weeks of being in the know were fantastic. It’s a very exhilarating time.  I downloaded apps for the phone, read up on fetal development, made doctors appointments, peed on sticks, quit coffee, spent 2 hours in the  prenatal vitamin aisle at the health food store and all that jazz. Then I got tired.  REALLY tired. No amount of sleep seemed to cut it, and before you knew it, I’m napping at my desk or on the mini couch at work.  When I’d been tired as hell for a couple of weeks, Nausea rode up on her hellish steed. Just a little check in at first – and oddly enough I thought it was kind of cool at the time. Proper pregnancy symptoms, check! It is really happening! No big deal, right, just suck on some ginger candy and eat crackers, I got this.

Shortly Nausea stepped it up,  escalating to a complete and total hostile takeover. I’ve thrown up in toilets, kitchen sinks, bathroom sinks, at a red light, in a styrofoam cup, on the ground and in the bushes. And ALMOST in the Apple store, although praise Steve Jobs, I managed to choke that one down.
Unlike when you are sick, pregnancy puke will not make you feel better. At least not in my case.  You remain just as miserable as you were when you started retching.
And sleep…. ahh sweet slumber. You left me too, right with my appetite. I spend my nights waking up to pee, check in with Nausea, adjust positions and sometimes for no reason at all. Which is when I play Words with Friends or Bejeweled until I can go back to sleep or the phone runs out of battery. My internal thermostat is riding its own hormonal swings too, and I alternate being freezing cold and way hot, in my carefully temperature controlled bedroom.  This shit sucks, but I keep reminding myself that it’s for a good cause.

Tomorrow I’ll be 13 weeks, and all the books promise that I’ll soon wrap up this phase and emerge gorgeously pregnant and glowing.
I’m ready, bring on the damn glow.