Sunday, January 22, 2012

The Art of....Gas?

So this is one of those gross posts. One where I need to get something off my chest, quite literally. I've heard about pregnant women and gas, but come on- we're women. We don't discuss the actual details of our bodily functions. Men prance around (yes, prance) and let one rip after dinner as a "compliment to the chef" whether it's take out or home cooked. They belch just to get us women to have a reaction. Sometimes they do it just to clear the room or get a good laugh. My wonderful husband isn't too bad and usually won't let it rip in front of company, which I appreciate. In bed, well it's kind of anyone's game.
But I digress. I've always been one of those women who likes to pretend that I don't have gas or anything else officious that expels, but in recent weeks, I have shamefully become disgusting with the noises coming out.
Last night I'm snuggling with Phil on the couch. Just relaxing, when all of a sudden this intense pressure in my stomach begins to rumble. I tried to ignore it. Pretend it wasn't happening when the pain began. Having no choice, I pushed. It was small, barely even noticeable. But OMG! Even my eyes were watering. What the hell did I eat???? I asked myself. Before I could answer that question my chest started feeling tight. Opening my mouth and a belch that would impress any die hard football fan came out. Embarrassed I hid my face in Phil's chest, "OMG! I'm so sorry!!" I cried, all the while thinking, This is the moment he leaves me. Instead of running or being disgusted he kissed the top of my head, chuckled a bit and wrapped the blanket more securely around me to trap any further offensive smells from leaking through.
As it stands I walk around feeling gassy all the time. I take a drink of water, then burp. Or run to the bathroom and pee. Tomorrow is 15 weeks! I can't wait to see what's in store for me now.

Monday, January 16, 2012

Daddy Issues

So today is 14 weeks! I'm so excited we're officially in the 2nd trimester. I can breathe a bit easier. Phil and I are still thinking about baby names. Nothing sounds right. I guess when it's the right one it'll jump out. I hope. The other thing that's been weighing on my mind is my bio-dad. There's so much going on in my life that the tiptoeing around that subject is becoming exhausting. I honestly can't say I love him. Not anymore. I thought for the longest time that he could change, but he doesn't. He's like the top salesman of a used car dealership. Makes you believe that the clunker in the corner is a brand new BMW fully loaded. Then you get home, realize that the car isn't worth half of what you paid and can't be returned. That sums up everything about him. False promises, false beliefs, false false false. I'd like to say there's redeeming qualities, but I honestly think he's a sociopath with severe narcissistic personality. I'm not a psychologist tho. Maybe he's just scum. The last time I had spoken with him I could tell he was spiraling again down the rabbit hole. I warned him if he continued then he wasn't invited back into my life, or that of any child(ren) I might have. He laughed and said "Of course I will be". Click. Duh Terra! Everyone just gives him chances, over and over and over again. Why? Why is there so much faith? Why does my grandmother make excuses for him? Why does the family dote on him? What is it about this person that has everyone fawn over him? He abused my mother, abused drugs, alcohol, the law. He can't hold a job, or live on his own. At 20 years old I could, why couldn't he? I asked myself these questions until I realized I needed to walk away. I was an enabler. I enabled him to get away with all of this.
Shortly after I found out I was pregnant, my mother called him to let him know and we could hear the drugs and booze over the phone. She never got to tell him the news because he hung up on her. A few days later I miscarried. My grandma knew, I'm sure she passed on the information. And the final test was put forth. And in a not very surprising move, he never called. Never called to ask how I was, or tell me he loved me. Does he know love? Is there a part of him that's a able to love? And can I love him anymore? Every question had the same answer. No.
It was enough for me to ignore him. I started ignoring his posts on Facebook. He would send me messages, "I'm thinking of moving to Las Vegas, thought?" his secret code of "Please I feel insignificant! Cater to me! Pander to me!! Love me so I can spurn you!!" I deleted him. I continued talking to my grandma. She stopped trying to play mediator. She finally realized that the damage was irreparable. Now I'm pregnant again, and he's on my mind. Not because I miss him or love him or even want him around. I realized that I don't want him in my child's life. I don't want them to have a part time grandfather, someone who pretends to care and disappears, whether back to prison or rehab, or just one of his many white trash girlfriends arms. So, if I won't do that to my child, why would I do that to me? Unfortunately though, every girl wants their daddy's love.My step father is amazing and in 10 years has meant more to me than my bio-dad of 32. But it still causes small daddy issues to come about. They manifest in the weirdest places. I constantly fear Phil will leave me, that eventually I'm not going to be enough to keep him around. Or that I'm not meant to be happy with him and God will take him away from me.

All of these fears due to an insignificant person who has no idea the damage he's reaped. And if he did know, would feel no remorse.

I didn't write this as a poor me. This is my online journal of sorts to help me remember my pregnancy and the things I forget I felt. Each emotion, each experience is new. Sometimes exciting, and sometimes sad. But these feelings will help me after the baby is born and I finally realize that parents are human too.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

13 Weeks!

I'm not really sure how this week managed to fly by so quickly. I had planned on keeping this as a journal that I write in every day to remind me of my pregnancy psychosis. There are so many things that I never knew about. Pregnancy brain for one. My brother keeps repeating the same joke over and over and I keep laughing because I'm hearing it for the first time, every time. He says I'm worse than a stoner. Phil keeps asking me questions and I just can't for the life of me remember the answers. I also manage to say things like "Put the milk on the top shelf in the dryer", or "Baby? Can you throw my work pants in the dishwasher please?". I'm not sure if this is induced from being pregnant or the fact that I sleep in 45 minute increments every night because I keep getting up to use the restroom. The peeing thing is partially because of baby and partly due to painful bladder syndrome, more on that at another time.
The other new experience is food cravings and food aversions. Well, not so much cravings but I have aversions. Chicken, mainly, and anything green and leafy. Yep, those big beautiful salads I love taste like regurgitated ass. My idea of what regurgitated ass tastes like anyway.
Other big changes, well my boobs are still giant. But this week brought some nice relief from morning sickness. It's amazing to not feel like vomiting at the thought of breathing. I'm also now able to drink water without gagging. That was fun.
Yesterday we had our follow up dr appt. Phil hadn't had a chance to actually see the baby or hear the heartbeat yet, so he took the day off to go with me. The baby was there sleeping peacefully. We got to hear the heartbeat, 135 bpm. I looked over to Phil to see if he was tearing up like I had. Nope just grinning, and looking pretty dazed actually. We were getting the down syndrome testing done. The baby was being uncooperative so the Dr kept bouncing my stomach to wake the baby up. I kept wondering if this was going to hurt my child but I figured, "He's the Dr". The baby finally moved enough so that we were able to get the measurements. Everything looked normal. So that step of testing was done and they did the good ole finger poke (my finger still hurts 24 hours later). We also got to get some photo time. "Q" as we're calling the baby until we know sex and a name was pretty pissed off about getting woken up and refused to sit still for pictures. The little hand kept waving around the little face. Well, little except for the nose. Q has daddy's nose I can feel it! The Dr also let us know he was 98% sure of the sex. I'm not ready to disclose that information until after the next scan in 5 weeks. That way I know 100%.
So that is everything I can remember from this week. Or today. I'll try to be better about getting all this down.

Monday, January 2, 2012

12 Weeks!

So I'm starting this blog three months into my pregnancy because truth be told, I didn't want to jinx myself by starting it super early. My mother in law gave me the idea to write a blog on the real side of pregnancy. the funny comedic and outright disgusting side that no one really tells you about until you're like "WTF?!?!". (note: yes there will be disgusting TMI details that you don't want to know about. If you are a man, squeamish, or have some aversion to the grossness- don't read any further. There will be discharge, vomiting, and anything else new I experience put into these posts as they occur.)

After my miscarriage last winter I was extremely eager to try again, while being incredibly cautious and nervous about the potential loss I might experience if I miscarried a second time. The previous pregnancy helped me get control over certain facets of my life. I hated my job, I missed theatre, and I wanted a direction. I was tired of standing still. So, I did the logical thing: I quit my job, auditioned for a show, and started moving forward. Then almost right after the show ended and I found a new job...BANG! BFP! (Big Fat Positive) Holy crap!! It was so scary. There wasn't a bad UTI causing pain, there was no spotting- only sore breasts, the occasional nausea and some serious fatigue. My husband, Phil was grinning, I was in shock. So much so that I took 3 tests before accepting the truth. Of course then I started googling everything there was on multiple false positives (yes I am neurotic, but I was scared). I started convincing myself it was a tumor, there was no way that I was pregnant. It barely happened once in my 31 years, how was this possible? And was I going to lose it again.
Phil had also gotten a new job so while we were waiting on his insurance to kick in for a few days I was making myself nuts with thoughts and fears about all the problems that would be found. Getting ready for my first appointment my stomach was in knots. "What if there wasn't a heartbeat? Or it was just an empty sac? What if I'm not really pregnant and have cervical cancer." The truth was I wanted to have a baby so bad that I could not let myself believe I was so that I would not be let down. My mom and I waited in the waiting room forever before they took me back. Weight checked, blood pressure was super low. The tech asked me if I was nervous and told me to relax so she could try again. Second try was much better. Finally it was time to go into the room. The dr came in did an abdominal ultrasound and got a weird look on his face asking me if I had normal cycles. Shit, I thought, the baby didn't make it. I could see the little body on the screen (Google is great at having tons of pictures of ultrasounds so you know what you're looking at). I was fighting the urge to cry when I heard him mutter that he saw a heartbeat, but doesn't think I'm as far as I thought I was. A heartbeat???? OMG really??? I changed to get ready for the wonderfully assaulting transvaginal ultrasound thinking "There's a heartbeat. There's really a living thing with a live heartbeat". During the ultrasound the dr pressed the button and let me hear the little heart pounding away. Staring at the screen in awe I felt the tears sliding down my face. I wished my husband didn't have to work so he could hear the little thundering with me. It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard, and it finally clicked that I was really and truly pregnant. The doctor told me I was 8 weeks to the date and everything looked perfect. Holy crap! I'm having a baby.

That was 4 weeks ago. My mom has been excitedly telling everyone that she's gonna be a grandma, Phil has been rather quiet I think until he hears the heartbeat and sees it himself the reality will be harder to grasp. I have been vomiting, learning the magic of panty liners and trying to figure out what color discharge is normal and which is concerning (fyi I'm learning that it's all pretty much normal, just super freakin gross). Next week we go in for our next appointment where I will find out if everything looks normal on the baby or defects. I'm praying everything is normal, but the truth is I'm constantly asking "What if".

Only 6 and a half more months to go!!