20w 0d (Ante Partum)

It's very hard to tell the difference between depression and pregnancy hormones. Both can make you cry hysterically and both makes me not want to get out of bed for days on end. It's just something has changed recently. Ever since I started thinking about taking medical leave, I've realized how truly depressed I am.

I thought it was because I was so sick in my first trimester. I would go to work, come home, clutch my stomach, lie in bed, and go to sleep. Rinse and repeat. Then my first trimester turned into my second trimester and things got a little better, even as the nausea turned into morning vomit sessions. I'm 20 weeks and I still take Zofran on a regular basis. It's just...I don't get out of bed. I'm as close to being on bed rest as someone who holds down a full time job can be. When I get home from work, the first thing I do is get into bed (sometimes after taking a bath). I parent from bed, I eat in bed, I fall asleep insanely early in bed. If Zac wants to spend time with me, he comes into my bed room and I feel unbelievably guilty about that.

I've completely isolated myself from anyone who doesn't want to text with me from my bed. Even on days when I don't feel like complete crap, I stay in bed. KGII asks if I want to go out on a Friday or Saturday night and I can feel myself looking at him like he was just taken over by a band of roving aliens. I'd rather be eaten by cockroaches than to be outside of the house and get sick, especially if I'm sick and can't leave. It's created this kind of social anxiety. It's so much easier to stay in my nice, safe bed where I have cats for company and endless paper back novels to read.

I reached out for help today and the hard part about having my history is that you can never encounter just a little bit of help. The first two things that were suggested to me were partial or full hospitalization. Only when I balked at that did they talk about finding a therapist. The hardest part, for me, about starting with a new therapist is having to cover all the crap that came before. The previous hospitalizations and the times when I felt I didn't matter. It's so much crap that it keeps me from getting the help I need, plus I have an inherent distrust of strangers that ask a lot of questions. Bonding with therapists has been a definite issue within the past two years.

So I'm back in bed. This time my adopted (gassy) cat is here with me and I'm praying he doesn't start pooping under the bed again. I see my Ob Gyn and a Maternal Fetal Psychiatrist tomorrow. If you don't hear from me for a little while, just know that I lost the hospitalization debate and I'll be back soon. I've been sicker before and I've survived more. This is just a hard patch and eventually it will get better. That's what I tell myself when the crying jags start. It will get better. It just takes time.

19w 5d

I'm not sure where to start this blog post. I made a commitment to blog my way through this pregnancy so I could look back on these posts and remember what I was thinking and going through at the time, like I can with Zac's pregnancy now. It's just...I'm so scared and defensive about my decisions that's it's hard to write about.

One of the things that some people find difficult about my job is that I can't tell them what's right and wrong. I joke that if I had a crystal ball, Warren Buffet would be calling me for advice from my beach island. So since I don't have a crystal ball, I have to try and explain all the risks to my clients about their investments without scaring the crap out of them. I had a high risk Maternal and Fetal Medicine (MFM) Specialist on Monday try and explain all the risks of my conditions to me and, unlike finance, doctors don't really care if they scare the crap out of you. I think that's part of their job description to avoid malpractice law suits.

I had just had my 20 week anatomy ultrasound, where I found out that I'm having a boy.

I'll devote another whole post to my feelings about being a Mom to two boys (especially after I convinced myself that I was having a girl), but back to the MFM doc. After my 24-hour urine collection, they found 150 something something something of protein in my urine. That indicates high kidney function, which MFM speculates that when I was obese I damaged my kidneys a bit, but that's just a working theory. I also have blood pressure in the 135/90 - 145/95 range, which is considered hypertension. You put those two factors together: hypertension and protein in the urine and you get preeclampsia. According to the doc, conservative care for preeclampsia involves bed rest. Aggressive care involves taking the baby out early. Suddenly I went from having a 40-week pregnancy to a, "We'll let you know when the baby presents too much danger to your health and take him them" pregnancy, hopefully that's somewhere between 34-37 weeks.

Then there was the whole, "We don't think your depression and anxiety are being adequately controlled and you are extremely high risk for post parturm depression" discussion that doesn't seem to ever go anywhere. I already go to 2-3 doctor appointments a week, and I was trying at least to maintain and grow my business, but now I'm supposed to go see a therapist once a week and see my shrink once a month (I currently only see him every three months)?

I'm just overwhelmed and beaten down. I felt numb when the MFM doc was throwing everything at me and about two hours (and two meetings later) I just started to sob. Take my baby early? Premature baby in NICU? I can't even feel the baby move yet. It's not time. Cue ridiculous pregnancy hormones that allow me to escalate every fear into a full blown panic attack and you have the perfect storm for me sobbing while trying to drive home.

A mere three days later, I go to the eye doctor. They wanted me to follow up with her after the headaches from the hospital and it turned out that I needed a new prescription. I'm nearsighted and my prescription was -3.75, but every time my eye doc kept holding one of those glass pieces up in front of me, it was so strong that I felt sick to my stomach. She finally settled on a prescription of -2.25. She kindly took the eye thingy away from my face and had a said that only two things can cause such a dramatic shift (for the better no less) in a prescription in someone my age: cataracts and diabetes. She said I didn't have cataracts and she wanted me to be tested immediately for gestational diabetes.

Cue more sobbing. I managed to get into see my Ob-Gyn that afternoon and held down that glucose drink for exactly 61 minutes (did I mention that sugar makes me throw up?). I lost the contents of my stomach at the exact moment that they were withdrawing the vial of blood from my arm. Score! I didn't have to retake the test. I just felt like crap for the rest of the night. The results came back the next day. My glucose level was 121 and anything over 130 is diabetic. Doc said I was fine and that we'd retest between 24 and 28 weeks. The problem is that I don't feel fine. The symptoms for diabetes help explain a lot of my previously unexplained symptoms: fatigue, uncontrolled infections, headaches, increased urination, and thirst, but I'm not actually considered diabetic at this very moment.

I'm completely overwhelmed and I feel like my coping mechanisms are starting to fail. I cry a lot. I'm scared a lot. I try to be very still to see if I can feel any movement inside me (I can't) and I take a lot of naps and try not to think about the future.

18w 6d

Pregnancy is just weird. Weird things happen to your body and you end up having weird medical treatment for weird symptoms.

On Monday, I went to the ER because I was thirsty and couldn't keep down liquids. Two IVs full of fluid, one blessed dose of IV Zofran (why do they not sell that stuff in IV form??), and five hours later, I was feeling much better. Except...a headache started the next day...and every day after that. It would hurt extremely bad right when I woke up, hurt even more when I stood up or sat up, and then felt better when I lied down. By Thursday, I was remembering that my blood pressure at the ER had spiked to 138/90 and now I was on day 3 1/2 of a brutal headache. I called my Ob Gyn's nurse and she consulted with my Ob Gyn and recommended that I come in immediately for admitting to check on the baby.

Here's the wrinkle. I go to a brand new, state-of-the art maternal fetal center with a hospital attached. A hospital that exclusively serves women and their babies. That's great if you are having a pregnancy problem or are ready to give birth. It's particularly awful if you are, instead, having a pregnancy - INDUCED problem that has nothing to do with a uterus.

KGII and I got the hospital around 6pm on Thursday and were whisked away into triage. There my blood pressure was taken and it was 116/60, no joke. They checked the baby's heart tones and they were beating away at a perfectly normal 150-160/beats per minute. I seemed to be perfectly healthy, except for the excruciating head ache.

I was asked if I got migraines (no), if I had changed any of my medication (no) or if I had been particularly stressed at work (always a little stressed, not really a lot of stress..so no). I was seen by a very soft-spoken Maternal and Fetal specialist and she ordered a MRI/MRA/MRB for my head and a Neurology consult. The problem was...I wasn't in a multi-speciality hospital that could do that at night. I had to wait until the morning, which is how I ended up spending the night at the hospital, even though I had reasonable blood pressure, good baby heart sounds, and no IV. They gave me Tylenol with caffeine every four hours, which was actually helping my headache.

The next day, my regular Ob Gyn came to visit me, which is why I love going to her practice that is connected to the hospital, and I had my MRI tests. They all came back normal. No problems, no blood clots in my brain, no enlarged retinas, nothing of any sort. Then around 2pm, the Neurology team came in and said rather than having a high spinal pressure headache (like I had with pseudo tumor cerebri) it sounded like I was having a LOW pressure headache. The only way to be sure was to do a lumbar punch, which could actually make the problem worse. The one catch? The team didn't know who or where would do the lumbar punch in the maternal hospital.

Finally, since they didn't know what to do with me, they sent me home with the Tylenol/Caffeine medication, told me to lie down as much as possible, drink fluids, and hope to god I didn't have a leak in my spinal cord. Maybe the problem would resolve itself they reasoned? (Caffeine actually increases spinal fluid pressure, which is why people who suddenly stop drinking caffeine will get headaches because of a drop in pressure). I was also sent home a large jug, a plastic cup that fits on the toilet, and a bucket. I was told to collect my urine for 24 hours and bring back the jug o' urine on Monday when I go in for my 20 week ultrasound and a second Maternal and Fetal Medicine consult.

So that's been my weekend. I lie down, I collect my urine, I try not to get sick to my stomach. It's loads of fun over here

17w 3d

It's weird that this time around I can tell you almost to the day when I became visibly pregnant. It was right at the cusp of 16/17 weeks. I thought I had been doing a fairly decent job of not growing an enormous belly and I remember thinking that I was small last time in comparison to the other belly shots I saw, then I just popped out. Of the last three prospect meetings I've had, all of the people sitting across the table from me have asked me if I was pregnant. I don't try and deny it (because that would be silly in maternity clothes and dishonest) so instead I launch into a monologue about what will happen to my accounts when I'm out on maternity leave and the great support I have.

Now, I'm strictly forbidden to talk about the securities industry or divulge any proprietary secrets about my work life, but I think it's reasonable to talk about how I feel about my work (something that I've done very little of on here or in any other social media).

Basically, my job is to contact people, get meetings with people, and close accounts. The more people I talk to in one day, the better. Like today, I called 300 people and spoke to 100 of them. My voice was literally raw at the end of the day from talking so much. Fortunately, my voice does not give away my pregnancy, which is why I see a look of surprise lately in people's eyes when they meet me for the first time. And this is Texas. Everyone wants to know intimate details of my pregnancy, including how I handled my first trimester, what the future big brother thinks of my pregnancy, and if I'm currently too tired to meet with them. All this at barely 4.5 months pregnant.

My pregnancy feels like a distraction for people. Like, "How can we talk about money when you are gestating a human being in front of me?!?" Sometimes I can overcome the questions and manage to pull the topic back to where it needs to be and I like to think that we both blissfully forget I'm pregnant for an hour. Those are the good meetings. The not-so-good meetings are the ones where the women want to commiserate with me and their husbands look bored.

I'm just so scared about how I will handle my job as I get bigger and my pregnancy becomes more pronounced. Well, not so much scared about how I'll handle the job, but more scared about how people will handle me trying to do my job. I've tried to talk to some male coworkers in the office that I'm close to, but they've never been pregnant themselves. They think it's no big deal and I'm making a mountain out of a molehill. I'm a natural introvert (hello writing instead of, I don't know, actually talking to someone) so it's challenging for me on the best days to engage with strangers. Now imagine being X months pregnant, feeling huge in your own body, and trying to meet the same strangers. What's even more challenging is there are no female role models for me to talk to. Most of the female advisors I know in other offices either don't have children or had already had them when they started their career.

What's hard is that I can't predict the future. I can't know how big I'll get or if my blood pressure will spike, leaving me on bed rest. I can only remember the past. I remember how distracting it was for me to be in a meeting with baby Zac kicking the crap out of me, even though I was in a completely different industry. I remember how much I waddled and how I got so big that people on the street would say things, "Any day now Mama!" and "Not too much longer now" when I was only seven months pregnant. Some days I'm just scared.

15w 6d

I'm  almost 16 weeks which means I'm close to passing the 4 month mark. I'm getting sick with much less frequency (that's me, trying to be positive), although I pass entire days clutching my stomach in bed and vomiting in the morning. Like this morning. It turns out that no one should indulge a craving for Doritos and gummy worms, no matter how good it sounds. After my second round of Zofran settles, I'm going to see about tackling lunch. Baby steps. I just go one meal at a time.

In other (non) interesting pregnancy news, with the end of my first trimester and start of second trimester, I have symptoms that I didn't know real women actually experienced. Sure, I mean, I figured there had to be a reason for all the hemorrhoid commercials on tv, but I didn't know exactly what it would be like. Turns out that three months of constipation can have some brutal side effects, like hemorrhoids. I also have what pregnancy guidebooks lovingly refer to as, "pregnancy rhinitis". Basically, it's an overproduction of mucus that leads to a runny, stuffy nose. I thought I was getting sick at first (pregnancy colds are particularly brutal), but no other symptoms emerged. Just a chronic stuffy nose, sneezing, and sinus pressure. Awesome.

My pregnancy symptoms almost completely match my Mom's at this point and she had two girls. I'm still leaning heavily that the one inside me is a girl only because it makes sense that another gender would cause all these symptoms to come out - symptoms that I didn't have with Zac's pregnancy. I clearly was not grateful enough for Peanut's pregnancy. This is me, telling the world, God, and fate, that I am utterly grateful for the ease of my first pregnancy and would like some of that to spill over into the this pregnancy.

It appears that I started blogging with Zac around 18-19 weeks and couldn't feel the baby move yet. That's nice to know because I was starting to wonder when I would feel this baby move. Apparently, I've got some time. I also started getting back pain with Zac around 20 weeks. The back pain has started earlier this time, with almost contraction-like intensity. It's a spasm, rather than a constant pain, and it leaves me sore and hobbling around.

I know I've mostly turned this blog over to chronicling my unborn child's progress, but I just want to take a moment to remember on here how much I love my son and what a beautiful, sweet age he is. He likes hanging out with me, but there are times when he will go into his room or can be out in the living room all by himself, playing the Wii or hacking into the Federal Reserve (I kid, he's mostly on PBS websites). His stuttering has faded to every other sentence and it still pains me to listen to. To me, it's like seeing how vulnerable he is when he tries so hard to communicate with me and to his friends. I want to protect him from any pain he might experience, from stuttering or otherwise. The fact that I still walk him three houses down to the bus stop every  morning to keep some neighborhood bullies from teasing him can attest to that. I figure he'll tell me when he's ready for more independence, just like he told me when he developed a sudden on-set of modesty. He completely closes the door when he goes to the bathroom, takes a bath, or changes his clothes. He's still my little guy, though. He had mostly outgrown the desire to sleeping in bed with me, although he's spent a couple of nights this week next to me. Before he falls asleep, he likes holding my hand or throwing a hot arm around my neck. God I love that kid.

Here's to the hope that I have another good one.

15w 0d (Done?)

I basically crawled my way through my first trimester. Between the fatigue, nausea, vomiting, and lack of pooping, it was difficult at best. I am finally starting to see a little bit of reprieve, although I'm still hormonal and "challenging". Basically, I don't want to live with myself most days and I would swear that my son is raising himself. I have no idea how anyone is pregnant with a toddler or, God forbid, another infant. The only way my life works right now is because Zac is seven and can mostly get himself ready for school in the morning and bed in the evening. I love eating, but the act of preparing food makes my stomach flip. Zac eats a lot of microwaved meals, that's what I'm saying. I was never a chef to begin with, but it's ridiculous now.

I'm a pretty, pretty princess now. When I was 23, I had no idea what was happening to my body and I relied heavily on my parents. I lived with them and they took care of me. I'd give my dog to have my parents take care of me right now. Unfortunately, that's not going to happen. Maybe I would consider having more children if I could live with them. Which is both pathetic and sad.

Basically, I've been thinking that this might be last kid. I feel so old. I'll be 32 by the time Baby Bean comes out and that's just significantly older than being in my mid-20s. Before I got pregnant, I didn't understand when my sister said she was too old for kids at 34.. I thought I wanted a three kids and even considered being a surrogate if the situation was right. What the hell was I thinking? Clearly, I had no idea the demands that I child would put on my body and my life. Typing these posts are getting difficult for my pregnant brain. I'll leave it to your imagination how much my work has been suffering.

I don't know if I can go through another first trimester. I feel done with gestating, but I feel like I should consult someone about this decision. There is just no one in my life to consult. FOB would get a vote on this when hell freezes over. KGII can't help me with the kid I've currently got, let alone one or two more. I can't imagine what would have to change in our relationship for me to expand my family with him. My parents want me to be happy and self-reliant. I can't imagine myself asking them when I've never consulted them on child bearing decisions in the past. But like I said, I feel premature making a decision that will grossly impact a future partner by myself, especially since I could potentially have kids for another decade or so.

So, Internet, this is me...consulting you.  Scary, I know. Am I too young and too single to make a permanent decision about my fertility? Or is just a little too easy for me to get pregnant and taking steps to ensure that it won't happen in the future is both practical and understandable given how challenging I'm finding my second pregnancy? Do I make a decision now for my life or do I leave myself open for a future possibility with someone else?

14w 6d (Don't Make Me Kill You)

Some people are bad drunks. They get mean, violent, and crazy. Some people can't take tests. They go blank, forget everything, and can't concentrate. Me? Well, I'm a homicidal pregnant woman. This realization has slowly dawned on me over the past three weeks. Not coincidentally, that's the same amount of time that KGII has been living with me.

I thought what happened the first time with the FOB was a freak occurrence. I had good reason to feel angry towards him. He wouldn't stop drinking and smoking pot and I was obsessed with him staying home (something he would die before doing). He would come home from the bar and I would light into him. Unfortunately, we were a couple of fights away from a domestic violence call because as I would escalate, he would escalate along with me. I had a vision of my life and realized I was going to be seven months pregnant, getting the cops called on me for beating up FOB with a shoe. I didn't want that life and I didn't want that life for my child so I left as fast as I could.

Now I'm with KGII and all of the rage is coming back. KGII has been alternating between sharing my bed and sleeping on the couch. Every morning I wake up at 4:30am or 5am and he's somewhere I want to be. I usually wake him up, forcibly, and tell him to get off the couch so I can lay down and watch tv. Every morning I see him sleeping blissfully while I battle another round of insomnia. He just looks so happy and it makes me want to stab him, repeatedly, with a butter knife. Seriously, I get so irrationally angry at someone who has the gall to sleep while my body wakes me up that I have to control myself from taking a pillow and covering his face, especially when he's snoring.

I can see that I should feel bad about these feelings and I openly discuss them with KGII. He says that I'm just being hormonal, which completely invalidates all of my feelings, but how can you validate physical violence? What's crazy is that at one point in my life (see: not pregnant times) I considered myself a pacifist. I've never been in a fist fight. I don't regularly hit adults or children. I feel possessed by a demon. A very, very angry little demon.