Second Trimester Begins, Sleepiness Continues.

This pregnancy has been way crazier than my last two. I am so worn out by the end of the day-- no matter what my day consisted of-- that I'm fast asleep by 9pm. Then I wrench myself out of my son's bed around 10, shuffle to my bed, put my head on the cool pillow 'just for a few minutes' before opening my eyes at 11 or so when I finally give up my idea of folding the laundry. I change into my PJs and officially go to sleep.
I'm already into the second trimester! I'm worried that this pregnancy is going to be worse than my last one during which I was exhausted for the entire period. I don't know if I ever saw midnight.
I shouldn't complain. My nausea is all but gone. I still don't have much of an appetite for things I used to crave, but at least I am not having to deal with the constant feeling of having to throw up. I did have a third barf in the first semester that I didn't write about -- probably because I was sleeping. But that was over 3 weeks ago and I have felt better ever since.

Slowly Moving Forward and Back and One Barf

I finally made a Dr.'s appointment. It's not for another week but that was all I could get. I have no idea how pregnant I actually am. I'm guessing somewhere around 2 months.

I have been doing ok, all things considered. I remember my first two pregnancies-- me falling asleep as I taught an online class and being woken up by my students wondering what was taking me so long to answer their questions. That was P1. Or P2, me, sitting on the couch, completely unable to move for fear that I will aggravate my nausea and having DH bring me carrot sticks, the only thing I could fathom eating. Those are both first trimester stories.

This time things have been pretty mild. I was hovering around somewhere just below normal-- pretty tired, especially after the kid's bedtime when I pretty much crash. Also mildly nauseous but not enough to stop me from doing most things.

That was all true until a couple of nights ago when, after a slightly long car ride with my DH at the wheel, I had no choice but to leave him with the kids and the bags and retreat into bed. I was so nauseous and tired that I just couldn't function. I fell asleep but that didn't stop the nausea. When I awoke a few hours later I sat up in bed and tried to gauge my status. I didn't have to do much guessing. I got that feeling and made for the bathroom. Barf. Hopefully the first and last one of this pregnancy. It didn't even make the nausea go completely away, and it left me feeling completely wiped out, sitting on my son's pee-pee stool and waiting for some external influence to decide my next move. Because I was still nauseous I was afraid to even rinse out my mouth or take a drink or eat anything. I went back to bed and had DH handle all the crying calls from the kids for the rest of the night. At one point DS came over to our bed as he usually does. Usually it's fine but this time he was bouncing around and kicking me in the stomach. Besides a lack of sleep, I felt like I was on a turbulent flight. This was not the recovery scenario I needed.

Because he'd been up so much during the night, I felt like I should get up with the kids in the morning. That's when I finally had some apple juice to soothe my parched mouth. DH replaced me about an hour later and that's when I finally got some rest. When we went out that day, however, I felt really short of breath and found it very difficult to stand. We were in a big-box store and there was nowhere to sit. I found a rolling set of stairs and perched on there for a while. Finally I realized that the reason I wasn't able to get air into my lungs was because my bra was too tight. I haven't worn one since. Thank God the weather is cool enough to wear a bulky sweater.

The Signs

The signs have been there for a few weeks already. Unexpected bouts of emotion (usually I consider myself rather dry in that department), advancing fatigue, pimple popping and, oh yeah. Remember my last posting? Let's follow that up with Period. Period. Period. No Period. Then there's the thirst. Boy oh boy, pass the water bottle!

As if I needed confirmation, I peed in a cup and DH (he didn't want the news over the phone or in a text message like last time) eyedropped it into the little cassette (that's what it's called in the packaging) and read the results to me with a smile. I took it from him, barely glanced at it, stuck it on a shelf for further examination, and went back to making school lunches. It's still sitting there, actually, but I'll take his word for it. After all... all the signs are there.

Sleep Baby

I've been really tired lately. It's not the baby keeping me up-- ironically, she's been sleeping through the night with just a little wake-up call here and there to eat. It's DS who's been calling us and crying. Well, last night he slept pretty well and didn't wake up until after 7am! The morning before, he woke up at 5:30 and was up and running. I was able to take a nap but DH had an exam that morning which he thinks he did poorly in. We started changing our reaction to his calls when my sister was over to help with the baby. She was sleeping in his room.

I'm Back With A Baby - My Labor and Delivery Story

For those of you who have been waiting with baited breath since my last blog posting, I apologize for nearly two week's delay. I could blame it on new motherhood, but that would be stretching the truth by about three days and I have about twelve days to account for. I have a very good excuse for the last four days which I'll share in another post.

When you last saw me, I was having contractions at home. They started in the morning after I noticed bloody show overnight. They were light and not really painful. DH had an exam in the afternoon and I took at walk and picked up DS from nursery, after which I went out for a falaffel and then stopped by the flower shop on the way home to pick up a thank-you gift for our friends who helped us out when I had that fever the week before. I even ran into them at the top of the street and they didn't notice anything. I didn't say anything.

Contractions started coming harder later in the afternoon. I would have to pause between blogging or cleaning or whatever I was doing, let it pass, and then go on. DS woke up and was climbing all over me. My sister arrived eventually and still I didn't want to go to the hospital, even though I knew (though I wasn't reporting to the waiting parties) that according to the five-minute rule, I should have gone already.

Laboring at home was the best thing I could have done. I wasn't being monitored or checked constantly. Nobody was holding me down or watching me or sticking needles in my arm. Nothing was strapped to me. I found a position or two that was ideal for waiting out contractions (on my hands and knees on the couch with my head on the armrest.) It was all very calm and, though I wouldn't quite call it pleasant, I can say that it was ideal conditions.

The contractions started getting bad and sweetly and without pressure, DH inquired when we would be leaving for the hospital. He was nervous that he'd have to do the job himself. I finally allowed him to convince me to leave the house when my water broke.

And then came the hardest part-- emotionally-- of the whole experience. I had to say goodbye to DS who I was seeing for the last time as an only child. Even thinking about it now is difficult. Fortunately, he had fallen fast asleep and didn't know that I spent more than a few moments lying beside him, stroking his hair, and apologizing. I know, I know, giving him a sibling is the best gift of all etc etc but it was still really tough on me. I knew that things were about to change forever. I'm not so good with change.

We ended up going to a different hospital than I had planned on since it was easier to walk to from our house and we wanted access. It's the same hospital where I gave birth to my son (after torturous procedures and interventions) nearly two years ago. It's not that the staff was bad. It's just that I had a bit of an emergency situation that time and it resulted in a very difficult birth.

I had awful contractions after that, and being in the car was pure torture. It's hard to relax into a contraction when you're strapped in to a bucket seat. Still, I was cautioning DH all the while to drive more carefully. The hospital is only 5 minutes away and though I could feel that the time to start pushing was near, I kept the news from him because he was already really nervous. He parked the car while an attendant helped me into a wheelchair and took a few details from me. I was going to refuse the chair but then I realized I had to get upstairs fast because the baby was on its way. DH arrived and we took off at a madcap down the hallway and up the elevator.

I was greeted at the labor ward by a midwife who made me get on a bed and strapped a monitor across my belly despite my protests. "We have to know how the baby is doing" she said. I hate that. The baby was on its way out one way or the other. In the meantime I was expected to lie obediently in whatever positions they commanded of me? There was no way. Honestly, there are times in life it's okay to not be cooperative. Oh, and then they did that awful thing where they check how dilated you are. I HATE IT. There were only two times I screamed during the entire process, and checking my cervix was one of them. It hurts and also just plain bothers me more than any other thing they do. Apparently I have a very very long canal and they need to dig right in there to get at it. I refused it all through the other checks in my pregnancy. It also bothers me even now-- just thinking about it makes me cringe.

I was four centimetres. FOUR? FOUR? No way I was only four.

When they finally got me into the delivery room, I did what I never intended to do: I climbed up on the bed and lay on my back. And by the way, I was fully dialated. Ten beautiful centimetres. I don't remember them checking me at that point. Maybe they just had a glance and could see... I don't know. Anyway, by that point there was no holding back.

Oh yes, that was after they insisted on replacing my clothes with a hospital gown, which I suppose I should be grateful for in terms of laundry, but I had no interest in at the time. The reason I was on my back is that it's just the position I ended up in and I was in too much pain to change it at that moment. Also, I was comfortable. Also, I knew the baby was on it's way out. I could feel it. It was all very intense.

At some point, and I didn't realize this until later on, the pain turned to tension. Every muscle in my body was coiled up. Whenever the midwife wanted me to change position even a little bit-- shift up, shift down, move my legs, hold my knees, whatever, it's not that I couldn't do it, but it took enormous effort to realign any muscle in my body at all. It's like they were melted in position. Even when DH or the midwife tried shifting me just a little, I protested. The biggest movement I made was some shifting and once I flipped over on my side, which is apparently a preferred position over the supine one. Talking was also really hard. I mostly used hand motions or whispered to DH who then translated to the midwife. The only motion I was happy to consent to was pushing.

This tension had been building with every contraction to the point that I couldn't relax in between contractions. I needed more time than I had. But that was somehow okay. Because like I said, what I was feeling wasn't exactly pain. I wasn't feeling comfortable, but it was way better to be like this than having regular contractions. The only problem was that it was very difficult for me to tell when it was time to push. So I just guessed.

The mood in the room, if I remember correctly, was pretty relaxed. I had chosen what they call the 'natural birthing room,' which is basically called that because it contains a radio, a shower stall, and a hippie-style floor lamp. This is in contrast with the 'natural birthing room' in the hospital I originally inteded to go to, which contained a jacuzzi, a neat-looking purple bed, wood panelling, and who knows what else.
I guess I guessed well, because the midwife kept telling me that things were progressing. I can see the top of the head. I can see the top of the head. It's coming, just a few more pushes... I believed her and also my husband when they said these things, but I was getting really tired. I just wanted to wrap it up for the evening and come back the next day to try some more. I pushed for twice as long in my last birth. I guess that God gives you strength for what you need when you need it.

I had my husband on one side and the midwife on the other (and yest, a monitor on my belly but that stopped bothering me after a little while) And when they kept telling me it was just one or two more pushes away and then I heaved one or two more pushes and it didn't come out, I started to get really tired. But then I decided that I really could be working a little harder-- not that it was any picnic up until that point, but I hadn't given it my abesolute all until then. Not the of medal-winning, baby delivering all that maybe was required.

So I geared up, got ready to give it everything I had, and screamed. The stupid midwife had her fingers in there and was massaging oil around. Now, I know that the midwife is supposed to do that, and it's supposed to help ease the baby out and prevent tearing, but I'll say something here that might shock and appal you: I would prefer the pain of tearing over having her fingers in there. Really and truly. Okay, really and truly as long as it's not a third degree tear. But she could have warned me. Or at least asked me. You don't just stick your fingers up someone's hoo-hoo without warning. I don't care what the circumstances are. I HATE HATE HATE that feeling. It makes me crazy. I screamed for her to stop but she said something about her having to do it so I had DH (DEAR, DEAR Husband) explain to her that I really meant it. Also, all the rubbing and the horrible disturbance it caused me (again, I shudder to think of it) distracted me from the business of birthing. I couldn't push while she was doing that. I couldn't at all. It was very counter productive. I was ready to kick her in the face. But I couldn't move my legs on my own and I don't think she would have happily helped me to do it. If any readers feel the same way about this, I would be happy to know that I'm not alone here.

To give her credit, this is a perfectly normal procedure for midwife to be doing and I'm probably the first person ever ever to tell her to stop. In fact, I was probably the first person in the hospital ever to be uncooperative during labor, so it stands to reason that she was doing what she was doing without any guilty feelings at all. She was actually pretty nice and respectful and definitely knew what she was doing. But at that moment, I hated her.

With that crisis over, I geared up once again for the Big Push. I pushed once, I pushed twice, I though to myself, 'push harder, let's get this over with!' and I gave it another huge push-- then I heard 'stop pushing!' I cant! I couldn't stop pushing remember, my body wasn't entirely in my controll. But it was all okay. A couple of seconds later I heard a cry and saw the midwife pulling the baby out and placing her on my chest.

I didn't have this pleasure with the birth of DS. His cominng-out was a lot more hectic and they took him straight to get weighed and measured and wrapped. I did get to hold him and feed him before they took him off to the nursery, but it wasn't immediate contact.

The first thing I noticed was how huge and heavy she felt, all curled up on my chest. To tell the truth, at that moment I was so weak that I don't think I would have been able to support a cup of coffee with my bare hands but I had a bed underneath me and holding me up so I was able to handle this little baby girl. I put my arm on her. She felt nice. I liked her. I got to hold her that way for a little bit and then they took her to clean and wrap her up. The midwife asked if I wanted to hold her again, but I told her that I didn't think I could.

It was time to deliver the placenta. I said no way. I can not push one more single thing out of me today. Let's do it tomorrow. But the midwife gave a big heave on my stomach (again, I wanted to slap her. Doesn't she know what I've just been through?) and with a few gentle pushes, I was able to get the thing out of me. They spread it out on the cart to get a look at it. It didn't look to me like you could tell anything from it, but what do I know?

At that point, I was shaking so hard I felt like I was riding a lawnmower. I was assured by various personel wandering through my room at that point that it was completely normal and not to worry. So I didn't worry but I did continue to shake. I also asked to be covered with a sheet. Just because I finished giving birth doesn't mean I want to sit around with my legs open for all the world to see. I don't care if they're doctors.

I can't remember if cutting the cord came before or after delivering the placenta. DH wanted to do it but I think he was also a bit weak and couldn't get a good grip on it with the scissors so he declined.

And then came the stitching up. I had a second degree tear. Whatever. It was superficial she said. Whatever. It was over. I consulted my watch. The whole thing, from the time of my arrival at the hospital, had taken under two hours. Under and hour forty-five. The baby had done her part, I had done mine, DH and midwife had done theirs. We had done well. We have a new daughter.

Sick Sick Sick - Pregnant With a Fever.

I guess I must have been pushing my pregnant body too hard on that day. I didn't really realize how tired I was until the late afternoon. We went a family trip in the morning and spent a good chunk of time wandering around and in the sun. The car ride itself was very crampy and tiring for me, not to mention hot. When we got home I prepared coffee and snacks for our guests and that was when I started to realize just how much I wanted to lie down. When I finally did fall into my bed a little while later, I all of a sudden started shuddering and shaking, groping for the sheet on our bed in 40 degree heat (that's about 90 or so for all you farenheit fans). I called my husband to bring me another blanket and then another. I was definitley feverish.

It's really scary to be this sick when you're this pregnant. I had no idea what was wrong with me. The shakes eventually went away but I still needed the protection of my blankets. After a while I shed the blankets as well and used just the sheet. A shower made me feel much better, but that was all the getting out of bed I did that evening-- oh, and I got up a couple of hours later to eat a bit of dinner.

I was nervous to go to the hospital, though that was definitley an inclination because of how worried we were. The thing is, I know that at this very late stage in the pregnancy, they wouldn't hesitate to just take the baby out either by c-sectoin or inducing-- probably the former-- if there was even the smallest sign of danger. It's easier for them. But it's definitely not something I wanted. So we decided to wait it out, at lest for a few hours. I'm glad we did. By the morning I felt much better. I was pretty much back to normal though I made sure to take it easy for the rest of the day. And since then I've been trying to avoid anything that is too physically stressful. I've learned my lesson well. The fever, we deduced later, was due to heat exhaustion.

Pregnant and Sick to My Stomach

The last three days or so I've been dragging even more than I've already been. I thought it was just, you know, pregnancy and being tired and slow. But then I realized that no, this is not just regular blahs. This is sick.
It began with a cold and then I developed some kind of stomach ailment. I'll spare you the details, but I will tell you that this happens to some women before they give birth-- it's the body's way of clearing the system for labor. In my case I know it's not so because dear husband, brother, sisters, and brother-in-law, all who were over at my house this weekend, are or were also sick to varying degrees. Sounds like I was hit hardest, but considering my 'condition', that's hardly surprising. I just hope this clears up before I go into real labor.

At first I thought that DH was just having sympathy paints-- couvade syndrome. But when I found out that it was actually everyone who was ill, I stopped flattering myself with that notion.

Update: I feel much better today, though I am sure that I'm a bit dehydrated from having expelled so much fluid so fast. On the plus side, my feet are less bloated!

Pregnant At The Dentist Some More

This is a letter I sent to a dentist friend out of desperation for the tooth pain I've been having and the anxiety of dealing with it during this last stage of my pregnancy. Actually, I tried looking up the problem online and I found that a whole lot of people are going through what I'm going through... but nobody seems to have a solution.

Well, if someone reading this can tell me what to do about it, I would greatly appreciate the help.
Here's my story:

I'm having a bunch of tooth trouble and it's really bad. Also, it's turned into kind of a mystery. I've written the details out below. Would you mind having a look and seeing if you can come up with anything?

It began with what I thought was tooth pain. That was about a month ago and I was about well over 30 weeks pregnant. I was convinced that I had to get a root canal-- the pain was almost unbearable and it was radiating throughout my cheek, ear, and up to my eye sometimes. It kept me up at night. But a visit to the dentist and an x-ray showed only a regular cavity and also a clogged sinus. I went to see a doctor about the sinus pain and she prescribed Moxiphan for a bacterial infection, which I took.
By the end of the course of antibiotics, the agonizing pain had subsided, but there was still pain along my upper jaw when I ate hot or cold foods. I thought that filling the cavity would help it. I finally had my cavity filled at almost term. The pain subsided for a couple of days, though the area was very tender. Then I began having shooting pains along the top of my jaw again. Not as bad as the original sinus problem, but still enough to make me stop whatever I was doing and run to get ice whenever it happened-- which was often. The pain got steadily worse and worse until I got to the point yesterday that I couldn't even touch that tooth or chew even on the left side of my mouth in fear of accidentally hitting my painful right tooth (tooth 15?) while chewing. The food that I do chew isn't well chewed-- I can't grind food finely between my teeth because I can't completely close my jaw due to the pain. So I end up swallowing food that is not adequately chewed.
I went to the dentist today again-- the same one who did the filling a week ago. She did another x-ray to see if there as nerve damage but she said the nerve looked perfectly alright, although she still saw some fluid in the sinus. She showed the x-ray to the other dentist in the office and he also didn't see any problems with it. He suggested that perhaps I am having a rare reaction to the filling itself which my dentist told me is the gentlest one there is (P60?). If this is the case, she told me, I just have to wait it out a bit and see if it gets better. If not, the only solution is a root canal-- something she and I are very hesitant to do on what appears to be a healthy root.
In the meantime, she tried shaving a little bit off the filling to see if it would help. She had to freeze the area because the drilling was very painful for me. Then she put some kind of a fluoride coating on it which (from my understanding) is supposed to condition the filling to my tooth... or something. Keep in mind that Hebrew is a second language for both of us. She told me that rinsing with a sensitive-tooth mouth rinse that has fluoride in it might also help me (as opposed to an antibacterial mouthwash.)
As for me now, I am considering an all liquid diet. Though soup is not the ideal food in 40 degree weather.
If you have any other ideas of what the pain might be or how to solve this, I would really appreciate the help. There is the off chance that this is all somehow related to pregnancy (my dentist also said she's seen some weird stuff in pregnant women) and that it will go away after I give birth. In any case, if we do end up having any major procedures-- like a root canal-- I will definitely want to postpone it until after I give birth. If you even have ideas of how to temporarily numb it so that I can eat properly that info would also be appreciated. I've been using ice, which helps but obviously not in a long-term way.
Thanks a lot-- and I'm sorry to bug you with this, but it is really that bad.

Pregnancy, Sinusitis and Me

Prior to going to the hospital yesterday, I actually had a doctor's appointment for my terrible sinus pain. (With all the hubub of having DS in the room with me, I totally forgot to ask her about the edema. If you think of it, the higher likelyhood of edema and sinus pain in pregnancy stem from the same problem-- water retention. This has definitely been a problem in this 2nd pregnancy of mine. I'm hoping that a lot of the weight I gained is just water.

My sinus pain has been excrutiating. At times it has me moaning and walking around holding my face. Tylenol provided some relief but at really bad times it just takes the edge off, it doesn't make the sinus pain go away. It's not always terrible, but when I have a flare-up, it is just horrible horrible horrible. I can't do anything. I can't sit, stand, or lie down. The pain keeps me from talking comfrotably. I can't concentrate on anything else. It wakes me up if I'm asleep. I find that it usually creeps up on me when I'm doing something that doesn't require moving my head around too much. Driving is a big culprit. So is reading. Using the computer, for some reason, isn't that bad.

Last night for the first time I tried putting ice on it. I hadn't tried it before because anything touching that side of my face when it hurts makes me feel worse. But after the initial shock of the cold, the ice actually managed to soothe the pain in the nerve running along my jaw, which is where all the sinus pain radiates from. The first thing you would try if you are not pregnant is decongestants. But they are strictly forbidden during pregnancy. I'm going to have to try some natural remedies for sinusitis such as vapor inhalation and nostril flushing. Also cutting out dairy and wheat products which contribute to the development of mucous.

Anyway, back to the doctor. I finally went to see her and she gave me antibiotics for it-- amoxicylin-- which is supposed to be safe for pregnant women, but which didn't make me any less nervous to take it. I even called my OB and confirmed with him that it was OK. It was. It is. Which made me feel slightly better about it. The truth is that I have to do SOMETHING about this sinus pain, pregnant or not, because at times it renders me completely non functional, not to mention the complete agony I feel.

Here's the irony between my leg swelling (which doesn't hurt, btw) and the sinus trouble. The radiologist who scanned me for blood clots yesterday at the hospital reminded me that if I sleep on my left side, it should help the swelling in my leg. Well, because of the sinusitis I can only lie on one side for so long before the pain starts and then I have to flip to the other side, whcih causes the pain to subside temporarily but makes my leg swell up. This doctor said that it's better even to lie on my back than to lie on my right side. That was a fist for me. EVERYONE says not to lie on your back in pregnancy. But apparently lying on your right actually blocks blood flow while lying on your left allows it. Lying on your back is only bad if it causes you discomfort. I don't have discomfort from lying on my back so I tried it out last night. It wasn't as good at relieving the pain as flipping from side to side, but I had my ice pack, and between the two, I managed to get a few good hours of sleep.

Sleep, Precious Sleep

In the first trimester, it's normal to feel exhausted. And boy, did I feel exhausted in the first trimester. Now I am in or nearing the third, and I am suddenly finding myself exhausted again. For the past few nights, I have hardly been able to keep my eyes open past 9pm. It really puts a damper on my evening plans. I can't figure out why this is happening. I mean, it just *might* have to do with getting up at odd hours with the baby, but he slept really well last night-- until 8am, actually! Actually, I had to get up to calm him at 4:30 or so and then had trouble getting back to sleep. That's the problem. Even when he sleeps late, I wake up at his usual time. Still, I don't know if this alone is enough to send me to bed at his bedtime-- around 7pm-- which is really when my body starts begging for pyjamas lately. I hope this passes soon!