4 things I’m looking forward to:

1. Having this baby.

2. Being able to drink a whole glass of water/liquid & not having it come back to say hello.

3. Being able to eat & have it digest.

4. Functionality.

Other: I’m officially on maternity leave.  The IHS is recommending bed rest.  My ob essentially said to do whatever the hell I want because I have two more weeks before he’ll deliver this kid-despite me losing 14 lbs (so far) & having frequent bouts of dehydration.  I was at the clinic Friday am getting another iv round of hydration and some “new” medication to try. I can’t say either way whether it’s helpful as I still can’t hold much down.

Note: I had to take maternity leave 2 weeks early.  My boss and co-workers were fantastic about it & I’d bake them all a cake if I could.  I didn’t want to, part of me thought I was super woman and figured all the problems I’m having would just all “go away.”  After being yelled at, having some things put in prospective by one of my best friends and thinking it over, I decided it was time to stop working.  And frankly-it was pretty stupid to continue working when I couldn’t hold more than a popsicle down and was starting to feel drunk all the time.

As far as what’s happening, everyone is chaulking it up to pregnancy.  I’ve heard more theories on eating/drinking and my stomach in the last two weeks than I thought possible.  I’m hoping they’re right and it is just some random fluke of pregnancy and poor timing associated with ulcer/allergies/cold.  In the mean time I’m trying not to lose my mind and conserve energy as I’m not pulling enough in to sustain a peanut much less the fetus and I.  However, the human body is truly miraculous, no one is worried about the baby-they all tongue in cheek say-well, he’ll get what he needs from you.  Obviously, as I continue to lose weight and count the days.. 

Michael is coping by massively focusing on his comic book collection and tip toeing around me.  I’m coping by taking 2-3 showers a day and obsessively keeping track of how many ounces of fluid I think I’m up or down & trying to eat anything that sounds mildly appealing.  It’s an evil game no one should ever play.

When I’m feeling really bad I start thinking about how insane this whole thing is and how I’ve seen other people go through much more to have children & how much of a wimp I feel like because my body isn’t doing what it’s supposed to be doing.  That’s a very bad place to be-feeling resentful because you can’t hold fluids down and feeling somehow responsible for it.

In the midst of this, I’ve told Michael repeatedly this is the only kid he’s getting out of me.  Ironically, it may be.  Before these two weeks I had what I’d call an uneventful pregnancy, smooth with a few normal hiccups, but this-this is crazy; I feel crazy.  The amount of guilt and fear associated with not being able to hold anything down this late in the game is overwhelming.  I wake up at night and try to gulp down water hoping it’ll help and a few minutes later I throw it back up and then feel defeated for trying at all.

I’ve had other weird behavior that one day I hope to laugh at and have officially been desensitized to bodily functions.  

In terms of emotionality, at least once a day I have a big fat cry fest and try to remember all the things everyone keeps telling me-that we will be fine and that everything will work itself out.  When it’s realy bad, I begin to question my ability and desire for motherhood as these last two weeks have really broken down my hope and desire to do this again.  I feel vulnerable, out of control and I question how much more I’d be willing to do to have children.  My phobia of needles has slowly diminished and everytime they stick an iv in me I want to sing.  At this point, I spend most of the day with hopeful I will go into labor and have a healthy newborn.

Yes, in re-reading this, it all sounds depressing.  Some of it is.  On the upshot, there is an expiration date to all of this, at some point we’ll get to meet our son and hopefully I’ll be eating/drinking normally again.  


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