Let me start this by emphasizing that everything is fine. I am fine. The baby is healthy and fine. It’s just that the last two weeks were spent thinking otherwise.

At my 16 week check up, I opted to have the Triple Screen blood test done. This checks protein and hormone levels in your blood for indicators of neural tube defects, Down Syndrome, and spina bifida, among other problems. In my case, it was recommended because I am 34 years old and will be 35 when the baby is born. The tests are not conclusive and are for preliminary screening. If a positive is returned for any issue, then further testing is recommended to confirm the diagnosis.

Friday morning before Mother’s Day, I received a call from my doctor’s office. Remember, “no news is good news,” so I knew this wasn’t good. My triple screen had come back positive for Down Syndrome. They were referring me to a maternal fetal specialist at the hospital for genetic counseling and an amniocentesis, if we chose to do that. We did. I was told that my doc’s office would send over the info and a nurse from the hospital would call me shortly to schedule the appointment. When the work day was nearly over and I hadn’t heard from anyone, I called my doctor’s office again and was told that the nurse who handled the scheduling was out of the office Friday and I wouldn’t hear from her until Monday.

Despite these sudden new fears and worries and my abrupt declaration that I didn’t want anything to do with Mother’s Day, we spent Sunday with all the rest of the Houston family at my mother-in-law’s house and it was a nice evening.

By mid-day Monday I still hadn’t heard from anyone, so I called my doctor’s office again and was told that the person there who was handling this was out for an emergency. The nurse I spoke with, “Ms. No News Is Good News” herself, told me she had no idea what to do, couldn’t give me the number for the hospital herself, and just told me to wait until Tuesday when the appropriate person would be back in the office. I’m really starting to hate Nurse NNIGN.

Tuesday I finally got a call and an appointment was set up for the following Tuesday, May 20, a week and a half after we originally got the news. Having an appointment scheduled didn’t help us feel any better though. In the mean time, Dale and I spent time researching Down Syndrome and amniocentesis and related subjects. My guilt was relieved in part when I learned that there was absolutely nothing I could have done that would cause this, aside from my age. In fact, I learned that Down Syndrome occurs at conception or even before. That intrigued me a bit because that meant my current age shouldn’t be a factor at all because this pregnancy was from a frozen embryo transfer. The embryo itself was conceived nearly four years ago, at the same time that Olivia was.

Still, nothing that we read was really reassuring, and I quit reading the “Your Pregnancy Week by Week” book when Weeks 16 and 17 turned out to be prenatal screening for birth defects. I think Dale got that same slap in the face from the book.

Last weekend was the best we’d felt since we got the test results. We spent the weekend in Galveston distracting ourselves at Moody Gardens and the beach. It helped a lot. On the way home, Dale made arrangements with his mother to have her babysit Olivia on Tuesday.

Tuesday afternoon, we arrived at the hospital 15 minutes early. I was given a couple of sheets of paper to fill out with Dale and my and our families’ medical histories. This was completed quickly, but we still spent more than 45 minutes waiting to be seen. We were stuck in a waiting area outside the neonatal intensive care unit. During that time, a father brought his newborn son down to see the family members waiting there too. It was a sweet scene. Though I tried not to, I cried.

When we finally got in to see the genetic counselor, one of the first things I questioned was whether my age at the time of conception or my current age was used in the testing, and if that would make a difference. I don’t think I explained myself clearly, because at first she said no, because the proteins they checked for change levels during the pregnancy. When she pulled out the paper with my lab results, we were told that the lab had been given my current age and a last menstrual period of January 1, which would have put me at 18 weeks at the time of the blood draw. The G.C. said the lab was supposed to have been told it was a fetal embryo transfer and my due date was based on that, putting me at 16 weeks at the time of the test, and my age at the time of conception was supposed to be used. This was a three year difference in my age and a two week difference in fetal age, which could definitely alter the results.

What was suggested and we decided to do was have a comprehensive ultrasound performed to date the current age of the baby. Once she had that info, the G.C. was going to call the lab back and give them the correct info to see if they could provide updated results before we left the hospital. Dale and I also decided to wait until we got these results to decide about having the amniocentesis.

The ultrasonographer teasingly referred to the baby as a “pain in the neck” because it wouldn’t hold still for the ultrasound and made getting measurements hard. Still, the ultrasonographer was great about pointing out and explaining to us everything she was looking for and seeing. The baby’s skull circumference, abdomen, forearm, and thigh bone were measured, along with heart rate, and all measured right on target for a gestational age of 18 weeks. Blood flow through the umbilical cord and to the kidneys was fine. It was still a little early to get a good look at the heart an spine, so she recommended another comprehensive ultrasound in four weeks, but overall, everything looked good. There were no physical indicators of Down Syndrome (or other problems) visible on the scan, but those are only noticeable in about half the cases. Still, it was minutely reassuring.

We were given two lovely ultrasound images of the baby, which I still need to scan in and post.

The genetic counselor called in the correct info to the lab but they weren’t able to give her the results right away. She told us it would probably be tomorrow morning but she’d call as soon as she knew anything.

Dale and I left the hospital feeling more hopeful, but also that much more scared. We decided to stop by our house before going to get Olivia, and the phone range minutes after we walked through the door. It was the genetic counselor calling to tell us the lab had just sent her the corrected results, and they were negative for Down Syndrome along with everything else. I thanked her profusely when my crying slowed down enough to let me, and we told her that of course, we didn’t want the amniocentesis.

Needless to say, that phone call was an enormous relief to me and Dale. At the very least, I didn’t have to have a giant needle stabbed into my abdomen. We spent a few minutes together, just feeling the relief, then we went to my mother-in-law’s house to see Olivia and show off the new ulrasound images.

I woke up sick and miserable on Saturday, so that was pretty much an inactive non-day for me. Sunday I felt better in the morning, but I had to make up for not getting much done lately for being sick in general. (There’s been lots of coughing and snot in the family the past week.)

I had some miniature box bag orders I really needed to finish. Illness and other issues seemed to keep cropping up that kept me from working on them, including literally sanding the tip of my finger until it bled while working on them one day. (I didn’t even feel it. I just saw funny streaks on the sandpaper and wondered where they came from. THEN I saw my finger, and of course, then it hurt.) I finished those up late last night, and I’m really pleased with the end results. They still need to be photographed, but once those pictures are online, I’ll be set to invoice the customers and send them on their ways.

I did take a break from working on the bags to play some Team Fortress 2. I haven’t played regularly in months due to burn out and morning sickness, and I’ve really been missing the game. Well, I didn’t actually play any rounds yesterday. Some folks from my preferred server were messing around working on getting the medic achievements so that’s what we did. It was chaotic and funny at times, but I’m looking forward to playing real matches again.

Dale also talked me into seeing Iron Man at the Alamo Drafthouse, our favorite cinema (chain). I had to alter my usual order (thanks to the gestational diabetes) so no fries for me. I did get the potato skins and shared them with Dale, plus a house salad, then I realized three skins wasn’t going to meet my carb requirement so I made it up with a slice of pecan pie, hah. I ended up missing about 10 plot-turning minutes when I had to check my blood sugar an hour later but Dale quickly and quietly got me caught up. Iron Man is hands down the best movie I’ve seen in a while. I had been so-so about going to see it, figuring we would some time, and at first I said no when Dale asked. I’m so glad that we went. I’d happily see the movie in a theater again, and I am looking forward to the DVD release loaded with extras.

The nice topper to my evening was feeling the baby move for the first time. I’m pretty sure I felt some movement during the movie, and I’m positive I felt it a few times after we got home. That was one of my favorite parts of being pregnant with Olivia, actually getting to feel her move. Feeling movement sure beats morning sickness as a way for baby to say, “hey, I’m still here! Don’t forget about me!”

Overall, I had a very good day, something I haven’t gotten to say much lately.

I had an appointment at Diabetes America yesterday morning. Livi and I got there a little early to start filling out the inevitable paperwork, and when I was on the last page, the receptionist said, “you HAVE been here before!” I wasn’t sure, but it turned out it was this same place I visited right before and right after Olivia’s birth, but at a location about 45 minutes from here.

I started out with the usual vitals, plus the extra fancy finger prick test. While the nurse was checking my blood pressure, Olivia boggled her by saying, “is she the phlebotomist?” Blood pressure was good, urine was fine (which I was later told was a little unusual, I don’t know why), and my blood sugar level was 118, so-so for having eaten yoghurt 1 1/2 hours ago. The extra fancy blood machine is able to calculate your average blood sugar level for the previous three months and mine was apparently at the high end of non-diabetic. Later the nurse practitioner explained that this means the gestational diabetes is a recent development instead of me being a low-grade diabetic for some time. Good news for me.

The nurse practioner listened to my lungs and checked my eyes and told me I should have a dental check up soon. Apparently plaque build up on teeth has been linked to elevated blood sugars. I am a couple of years overdue for a dentist visit. The N.P. also palpated my uterus and told me I’m measuring a bit high. For being just over 15 weeks, my uterus should be about halfway between the top of my pelvis and my navel. Mine is currently closer to my navel.

After all the tests and exams, I met with the dietician. She showed me how to use my new glucose monitor. I’d brought in my old one but they gave me a new one anyway. At least it’s pack is a little smaller than the old one. We also reviewed how to use the insulin injection pens. I’m not supposed to use them yet. They’re “in case” diet alone won’t bring down my glucose levels. (I expect to be using them in a week. I needed insulin the first time and moderately high doses of it.) The dietician also gave me meal plans with how many carb units I’m to consume per day (unlimited protein and fats though, whee) and when I’m supposed to check my blood sugar (four times a day). I also got a container of ketone test strips I get to pee on every morning.

I left with two small bags of diabetic door prizes, including cereal samples, coupons, and a lot of lotion samples (why those, I don’t know). Later I found out I also left behind my folder of paperwork. Livi and I had stopped by the public restroom on the center’s floor and I left the folder when I grabbed everything else. Fortunately the receptionist found it where I left it so I was able to pick it up shortly after I realized it was missing (and had searched the car twice).

The new glucose monitor is a nice little thing. The finger prick is nearly painless and sometimes I don’t feel it at all. My first test after lunch yesterday, my reading was a bit high at 134. They want it to be 120 or less an hour after eating. After dinner, it was 118, but I hadn’t had a full 3 servings of carbs, more like 2. This morning I ate a granola bar for breakfast that was a little less than 2 carb servings, and my blood sugar level was a whopping 145 an hour later. I am even more firmly convinced I’ll be on insulin in a week.

We need to do some grocery shopping. Most of the snacks we have in the pantry are crackers, pretzels, and chips. Fortunately, we don’t have many sweets, and I haven’t been wanting much of those lately anyway. It’s going to be so hard to give up/cut back on potatoes, fries, rice, et cetera. I am fine without sweets and chips for the most part, but I really am a carb junkie. It really sucked the last time, and I know it’s not going to be fun this time either. Ah well, the end result is worth it!

I got a call at 8am this morning with the news that I’d failed my 3 hour glucose tolerance test. I was then given the number to a diabetes center to call and schedule an appointment. That appointment is now set for Wednesday afternoon.

I wonder how long it will be until they put me on insulin. :/

A couple of weeks ago I had my first regular prenatal check up. The usual stats were checked, the baby’s heartbeat was listened to, I was given some pamphlets about different topics, and I left behind a decent amount of blood. I asked when I would get the results of the bloodwork (though I was only concerned about the glucose tolerance test) and was told by the end of the week. The following Wednesday I hadn’t heard anything so I called the clinic. A nurse called me back and promptly scolded me by saying, “we don’t call unless there’s a problem, so No News Is Good News.” I explained that I’d been told I’d hear something, and she just repeated her No News Is Good News line.

About 20-30 minutes later, I got another call. It was the same nurse. This time she told me that there had been a “lab accident” so I needed to come in to redo the 1 hour glucose tolerance test. All the other tests were ok. So, when she’d called me earlier to bitch at me, she hadn’t actually checked my results yet? And why did it take over a week from the initial test for anyone to check my results?

I went in the next day and did the damn test over again, choking down the nasty Fruit Punch glucose drink. It doesn’t really taste bad, but something about the Fruit Punch flavor makes the back of my tongue start feeling weird and I have to force myself to swallow it.

Monday the nurse called while I was out. Dale called me and gave me her number. I got her voicemail, but since my destination went past the clinic, I stopped by in person. Unsurprisingly, my glucose levels were elevated so I needed to do the 3 hour fasting test.

Dale and I planned for me to go in early this morning. I didn’t wake up until 9:30, then I took my time getting out of the house, so I didn’t get to the clinic until 10:30, already 11 hours since I’d last eaten or drunk anything. Renata, the awesome phlebotomist at the clinic, drew my fasting blood then gave me a choice of glucose flavors. I was debating between the orange and the “cola” when she cracked open the cola flavor and said she’d let me taste it to see what I thought. It was like semi-flat RC Cola with extra sugar but didn’t make my tongue try to hide in my throat, so I just drank that. Afterwards, Renata gave me a big cup of water and told me to take my time drinking it.

I thought I’d paced myself fine with the water, but about 45 minutes after the testing had begun, I was feeling really sick. I asked the receptionist if I could have a piece of sugarless gum and she asked the nurses. They said I couldn’t. I was about to go for a little walk outside for some fresh air when Renata came out and got me. She put me in a small cool room with a big comfy recliner. I wasn’t any less nauseous, but I was more comfortable while fighting to keep from throwing up.

I got to stay in that room until all the testing was done, leaving only for the blood draws and a few potty breaks. Once the water started passing out of my system, my nausea eased. By the time I left the clinic, I was only hungry. Not surprising since it had been 14 hours since I’d last had food (which I’d thrown up right before bed).

Nurse No News Is Good News used her favorite line on me at least twice while I was at the clinic. Just before I left I asked when I’d hear any not good news. In a couple of days I’ll probably be informed that I’m a gestational diabetic again.

It’s been little more than half a month since the total destruction of Klaatu in Animal Crossing: Wild World. Since then we’ve all worked hard to fill PinkCity’s museum with dinosaur bones and insects. I’ve been time traveling to speed up the growing of our fruit trees for maximum Bells. I’d spent a couple of hours just this afternoon doing a massive fruit harvest to pay off the third or fourth house expansion so we could finally get the second room. Since I’d monopolized the DS for so long, I made the payment then logged off my character so Livi could play.

Ten minutes later, she brought me the DS because she was having some problems. She was trying to do Tag Mode. I exited that and saw that the top option on the main menu was New Game. Not Continue. New Game. Like the last time, I quickly turned off the DS, then turned it back on. Like last time, it didn’t help.

PinkCity is gone.

Say hello to Pinktown. Hopefully, third time will be the charm, and this town will survive Olivia’s random tapping.

I had my third heartbeat check this afternoon. It went well! Little Mouse has grown, has a good heart rate, and is wriggler. We brought home a couple of ultrasound scans, but they’re not clear at all, probably because the little one wouldn’t stay still. Highlight of the scan was watching the baby flip from back onto side, then back.

Until now, they’d been projecting my due date as October 22, but today the nurse pulled out a little disk, put in my transfer date, then declared my estimated due date to be October 20.

This was my last visit with the reproductive endocrinologist since everything checked out fine. We left with a manilla envelope full of paperwork to take to my regular ob/gyn. I called his office after we got home and my first prenatal appointment with them is scheduled for next Tuesday.

Yes, it was a joke.

I’m typing this on a laptop from my bedroom, trying to avoid the smells of Liv and Dale having dinner. *groan*

Olivia is playing Animal Crossing on the DS right now. She just said, “all the dinosaurs are gone.” I looked, and she was wandering through the empty museum. Oh. I didn’t know she ever visited the museum.

I told her, yes, the dinosaurs are all gone and asked if she’d like me to get them back. She does. Then she moved to another room and said, “all the butterflies are gone.” A minute later, “all the pictures are gone.”

I guess I’m not the only one who’s sad that Klaatu is gone.

My hiney did get so painful that the last three nights, Dale and I have done my PEO injections in my thighs. First night, it went well and I barely had any pain or discomfort the next day, in contrast to my first thigh intramuscular injections. We used my left leg the next night, and it hurt a bit more on Monday than my right did on Sunday. Last night, we did my right leg again, and holy shit! It didn’t bother me too much last night, but today, it hates me and it’s letting me know. Just walking to the mailbox, my thigh gave way twice, nearly dropping me to one knee. When I get up from my desk, I lurch around like I have poor motor control and someone else’s legs. Still, this is preferable to the previous week’s butt agony, so I’m debating where to do tonight’s injection.

Despite that, and I can’t remember the last time I said this, I feel great! My stomach was a little uncomfortable this morning, but it let me get through Livi’s gym class on just a granola bar. Lunch wasn’t a torment. And now, nearly 8 hours after I took the 8-hour-lasting pill, I am feeling downright GOOD. I’m in a good mood. I’ve been able to eat without wondering how soon I’ll be running for the toilet. I even just celebrated by bringing home crap in a bowl and sharing a Dairy Queen sundae with Dale.

I wonder if today is a sign that the morning sickness is ending, or if it’s some vicious April Fool’s joke my body’s playing on me, and the horrendous punch line is yet to come.

For a little while now, Olivia’s been playing with our Nintendo DS. Her first game was Magnetica. Sometimes she’d actually clear a level. Then I showed her Animal Crossing Wild Word and we made her her own character. (I even played through the intro stuff for her so she’d be free to play how she wanted.) Then we bought her Nintendogs, and now she has a Golden Retriever puppy named Daisy.

Having the DS active again has also renewed our interest in it. It had been unused for probably more than a year. Dale even weeded my AC town for me while on a flight to California. I started playing it again as well, determined to pay off the final upgrade to my house.

Once in a while when I logged on after Livi, I’d find a few things missing around the house, usually the Garden Gnome in my main Mushroom Forest-themed room. So I’d have to switch over and put back all the stuff she’d picked up. I finally learned to just log in her character for the housework, then switch to mine for the bell-making. Today when I got ahold of the game, I noticed about 1/4 of the contents of each room was missing. The Garden Gnome was gone again, so was the Mushroom bed, the Mushroom side table, and even the Mushroom TV. The “outdoor” room was missing its hammock and picnic table. The Robot room lost its TV, bed, and the awesome toy train table.

When I checked Livi’s character, all I found was a bunch of flowers and the Robot TV and bed. I put those back in place, then wandered around the town. I figured she’d done a swap/drop during her flower and fruit foraging (apparently her favorite activity, after looting the house). I didn’t find a single item anywhere in town. I even checked the Lost and Found and the Recycle Bin. No luck. I tried to ask Livi what she’d done with the items, and she said, “I’ll find them all for you, Mama.” I gave the DS back to her.

A few minutes later I looked over and she was logged onto my character and putting my inventory into the Recycle Bin. Ack! I quickly retrieved my gear, then asked Livi if that’s where she’d been putting the household items. Yep. Ah, well. I told her that when things get put into the Recycle Bin, they go away forever and we can’t get them back. So, hopefully, she wouldn’t do that any more.

I wasn’t happy, but she’s only 3 and didn’t know any better. Plus, it’s not like it’s the end of the world. That was to happen later.

The next time I checked on Livi, she was eating fruit. I was surprised by this, because after all this time having the game, I didn’t know you could eat the fruit. (Or I’d forgotten you could.) I couldn’t really see her character because she was on the upper screen and the angle was bad. So I left Livi to her fruit-eating. When she was done playing and wanted another game, she handed me the DS. It was then that I noticed she was in the bedroom of the house, where four beds should be, and there was only one. And her character looked different. Moving downstairs, I saw only one small, empty room. When I walked outside, the house was in a different location.

This was not Klaatu.

Hoping and praying, I turned off the DS without saving. Unfortunately, when I turned it back on, the first option was no longer ‘Continue.’ It was now ‘New Game.’ Somehow Livi had gone to the Town Hall, talked to Pelly, and told her to delete the town, even tapping affirmatively through each confirmation screen.

Olivia now has the only character in a new town, PinkCity. I let her pick the name herself. In a bit, I’ll run AC-Olivia through the introductory errands so she can play freely. I’ll probably make myself a new toon too, though I don’t think I’ll have the energy or spirit to rebuilt and refurnish our awesome little house.

What I’ll miss most though, are the love notes that Dale had sent me through his character. But at least Livi can have all the fun she wants now without Mama saying, “eep! Don’t do that!”

I like to say that I have a low threshold for pain but a high tolerance of it. Dale’s the one who says I’m a tough bitch. And I do believe that I can put up with quite a lot physically. And I do mean a lot. I’ve been through an ectopic pregnancy that nearly lost me a fallopian tube, and I endured THREE MONTHS of gall bladder attacks. I even drove myself to the ER during two of them. (This still makes me bitter, because everyone else I know who’s had a gall bladder attack was in the ER and having surgery after the FIRST one.) Still, neither of those was as bad as the worst pain I’ve ever experienced. That would be a whole ‘nother post. So yeah, I know what pain is.

Anyway, back to the point of this post. A few weeks ago, I wrote about the fun of self-administering intramuscular injections. Now I’m going to complain about the fun of other-person administered intramuscular injections.

I have been taking progesterone in ethyl oleate (PEO) injections for over a month now. They’ve always been uncomfortable at best and downright painful at worst. Tonight was the worst injection ever, and I just wanted to cry and give up.

The EO part of my PEO shots likes to collect in the muscle and form lumps. After weeks and weeks of injections, I have huge lumps in each of my butt cheeks that make it feel like I’m lying on top of a couple of potatoes when I go to bed. When you palpate the spots, it feels like there are golf balls under my skin, they’re that hard. On good days, they’re just uncomfortable. On bad days, they really freakin’ hurt. Bruising, of course, is also quite common. I have at least another week of these injections. As bad as it was to inject them in my thighs, I think we’re going to have to do that for a couple of nights, because my ass really needs a break.

Currently, I have a bruise on my left butt cheek that looks like someone tried to karate chop me and left an imprint of the side of their hand. It’s been there for almost a week now, and for all that time, it’s been extremely painful. I have to be very careful of how I sit and lie down. When I touch the area, the skin is so sensitive, it feels raw and my fingertip feels like I wrapped sandpaper around it before dragging it forcefully across the spot. It’s been so bad, most of the shots this week have been going into my right side, instead of alternating. It’s so bad, we’ve discussed whether I should go see a doctor.

Sometimes, despite our practice and careful preparations, the shots don’t go well. One night, the shot didn’t hurt at all, beyond the initial prick. I was mulling over this when Dale said, “uh oh, I think I got an artery. There’s blood in the tip of the syringe.” As soon as he said that, I knew he was right. It suddenly smelled and tasted like someone had cracked a vial of some sort of medicinal alcohol right in front of my face. I also got woozy and it felt like my chest was constricting. This lead to a coughing fit that ended with me vomiting into the toilet. Fortunately, all the bad effects from that passed within 10 minutes or so, but it was pretty freaky. And it’s happened 2-3 times in the last couple of weeks, though the effects haven’t been as bad as the first time.

This is not Dale’s fault at all. He’d pulled back the plunger after inserting the needle to check for blood, but saw nothing so he proceeded with the injection. It wasn’t until he’d removed the needle that he could see the very tiny amount of blood in the syringe. I really want to emphasize this. None of these issues are caused by Dale. He’s done everything about perfectly, and he still feels terrible each time I say, “ow.”

A few times, the injection has stung and burned really badly. We don’t know why. Every night the procedure is the same, but twice now, the injection has been so painful I haven’t been able to keep myself from going, “owowowowowow,” while the leg on the injected side twitches uncontrollably. Tonight, it was hurting so badly that my leg was buckling and Dale pulled out eh needle before the injection was done. The spot bled more than any other injection so far (which really wasn’t much). While I applied pressure to the spot, Dale swapped the needle for a fresh one. Then he stabbed me and finished the injection. This time, it went ‘normally’ and there was no more pain or discomfort than usual.

Although the searing pain stopped almost as soon as Dale pulled out the first needle, and the second injection was fine, I’m hurting quite a bit now. Because my left side has been so bad, we’ve done the last 3(4) injections in the right side, and now it’s starting to pay for it. So tonight, when I finally go to sleep, I’ll have to see if my sensitive belly will let me sleep on it, because the damn Potatoes of Pain are waiting on the other side.

Morning sickness talk, this is your warning.

After my last visit to my doctor, and being on the verge of throwing up before and during my ultrasound, I was given a prescription for Zofran, a pretty serious antiemetic. Dale had to go to work shortly after we returned home, so I reluctantly dragged myself and Livi to Target to fill the prescription. While waiting for it to be filled, I thought I was going to pass out in the middle of the store. We finally got the prescription and went home. I promptly took one, made sure Livi was set up OK with some entertainment, then laid down on the bed. Within 15 minutes, I felt GREAT!

I bundled Livi back into the car and went out to grab some fast food lunch I’d been craving but had been too afraid to eat until then. I felt so good the rest of the night, we even went out to a sushi place for dinner. (I kept myself to cooked seafood, don’t worry.)

Each pill lasts 8 hours, so I only take two per day, occasionally less. If I’m not feeling horrible when I wake up, I try not to take one. (For one thing, the scrip was for only 12 pills, with a single refill.) After several days on Ondansetron (the generic version), I got sick despite the medication. I wasn’t sure if that meant it was losing its effectiveness for me, or if my nausea was just that bad. The past few days I’ve been miserable, despite the medication. I’ve been exhausted and vaguely queasy at all times, though I’ve only been sick a few times. I’ve spent most of the past few days lying in bed with the laptop because moving around made me too nauseous. Livi is a sweetheart and will come in from time to time and snuggle with me or sit next to me playing the Nintendo DS. I was able to do this, oddly enough, because Dale has been working from home because he and Livi have pink eye! (I don’t know how I’ve managed to avoid getting it.)

Today has been odd. I woke up feeling ok and took my regular morning meds, but not the antiemetic. An hour or so later I started feeling bad, so I took it. Then I ended up dry-heaving, which was a mixed blessing because I kept down all my medication. At lunch time, I really needed to eat. I got halfway through my lunch before I had to abruptly head to the bathroom. That seemed to be what my body needed, though, because a little while afterwards, I was able to finish my lunch with no further ill effects.

A couple of weeks ago I also accidentally discovered another nausea-relief remedy. I’d picked up a couple of bags of Atomic Fireballs. Those, along with tart candies like SweetTarts, were small things I could eat without any threat of illness. The Fireballs are particularly effective, since they last longer. Shortly after I bought these, I found a couple of internet references where other women have mentioned that they help with morning sickness. There are a few drawbacks to this remedy though. First of all, the relief only lasts for about as long as the flavor lingers, so 15 minutes or so. They also don’t work against really bad nausea (and who actually wants to eat anything when they’re feeling like that anyway?) And, they’re pure sugar. Non-nutritious at best, and bad for someone who’s insulin resistant and nearly guaranteed to be a gestational diabetic again. So, I try to keep my Atomic Fireball consumption low too. (Actually Dale, the fiend, eats about 3-4 times as many as I do!)

So, I am now 10 weeks pregnant and down about 3lbs from the start of my pregnancy. It looks like this pregnancy is going to be much like my last one, which had me lose/not gain weight until the very end. Ah well, it’ll definitely be worth it. After all, we got Livi out of that one!

Between the three of us, we have

1. one case of morning sickness (even with anti-nausea medicine)
2. one viral sore throat
3. various allergies
4. two cases of bacterial pink eye
5. two cases of general fatigue and malais

Treatment for these ailments include

1. anti-nausea medicine
2. gargling with saltwater
3. zyrtec and benedryl
4. two different anti-biotic eyedrops to be administered 3 tmes a day
5. naps

QQ

Why is it, that after centuries of evolution, a woman’s digestive system still insists on turning itself inside out during early pregnancy? You’d think, by now, women would have evolved so that when they’re pregnant, they want plenty of protein and veggies, stuff that’ll be good for them and their temporary residents. Instead, I get to spend way too much of each day getting to review what I’ve consumed. If I’m lucky, it happens right after I’ve eaten, so it just tastes like tears and food. If I’m unlucky, it’s a while after I’ve eaten, and we all know what that’s like.

When I was pregnant with Olivia, I had terrible morning sickness that lasted into my second trimester. I didn’t even gain any weight until the very end of my pregnancy. Actually, I lost weight during my first and second trimesters, so the third was spent catching up. My net gain was 16lbs. This pregnancy definitely seems to be following the same pattern. I’m a little over 2 months along, and my weight keeps bouncing up and down the same few pounds, depending upon how sick I’ve been that day.

Today has been the worst day, though. My first… meal rewind was so violent, I thought I was going to choke at one point. I had rice caught in my throat that threatened to go the wrong way (what’s the right way at this point?) when I tried to inhale. By the time I was done, the back of my throat and the tissue around my uvula were scorched and swollen. It hurts so damn much to swallow right now. Eating and drinking just about makes me want to cry. I’ve never had this happen before. And, despite my sore throat, my body just won’t give me a break. I’ve been sick two more times since then, which isn’t helping.

I do have a few comforts right now. Dale is just friggin’ awesome, comforting me when I need it and staying the fuck away when I can’t stand to be touched. Livi, as always, is an amazing little person. And, as much as it pains me, this barfing is a sign that our next child is inside me, growing and causing trouble already.

I’m in the "John Hurt way*"
Originally uploaded by monkeyjunkie

I’ve been waiting to share this news for a while now, but we wanted to wait a bit before we did. I’m now two months along and in the full throes of morning sickness, so here we go!

This ultrasound was taken a little over a week ago, on March 3. Our next one will be March 17. Baby #2 is expected on October 22.

Yes, this is the reason for the shots I’ve been getting, along with the handful of pills I’ve been gulping down day and night.

* If you watch BBC’s Coupling, you might get the reference

Olivia was brushing my hair this evening. Here’s what she had to say about it.

I like your hair.
It’s… brown.
And comfortable!

I talked to my parents a couple of nights ago, and my Dad mentioned that Livi’s web site had been down for a couple of days. Our sites tend to go down for a few hours here and there, so I wasn’t surprised, except that it had been days. We looked into it and it turned out that our domain registrar had the wrong nameservers listed for her domain, but they hadn’t been changed since July, so why break now? We updated the nameservers and Livi’s site was promptly up again.

Then I noticed that the most recent blog post was back in October. I don’t post frequently to her site, but I was pretty sure I’d made a couple of posts since then. Then I checked her Gallery, and the last photo there was from October 1st! I knew I was severely behind on uploading photos from my camera, but Dale’s been uploading his, so where were those? I checked my computer, and my photo backlog dated to May, so I ended up staying up late last night resizing and uploading my photos. (I made it to August before I had to go to bed.) Today, I got all caught up on photos from my camera. I think I added nearly 290 photos to her Gallery, dating back to May! (whoops)

Talking to Dale, we realized that a lot of photos WERE missing from the gallery. In October we went to California (including Disneyland and the San Diego Zoo), plus there was Halloween. We knew we’d uploaded photos from those events. So Dale called our web host to ask what was up. He was told that they recently upgraded their servers and migrated a bunch of web sites. Unfortunately, they copied over old back ups (from October) and didn’t synchronize the data before severing the link to the old servers! Because of the way the Gallery software runs, we can’t just roll back to the most recent copy on the old server. Instead, one of our web host’s staffers gets to compare the file structures between the older server and new server to get the files that appear on the old server but not on the new. I think they’re supposed to send us those files, then they’ll have to be re-uploaded to her site.

*sigh*

Dale and I have been playing an online computer game called Team Fortress 2. It’s got a very cartoony style, and Livi likes watching it once in a while. Lately, she’s surprised us with some things she’s said.

“Watch out for spies, Daddy!”
(After I announced that there was a spy near me.) “Daddy! Go get the spy! Get him now!”

She’s narrated games too. “You are going inside. You are going outside. You go up the stairs. You go down the stairs. You blowed him up!”

And just a few minutes ago, she came to me holding a small stick like a gun and said, “the fire comes out.”
“Fire? Fire comes out of that?”
“Yes!”
“Are you a pyro?” (Character with a flamethrower.)
“Yes! I firing you, Mama!”
Then she chased me around the house “firing” me.

She had fun one day when I sat her on my lap and helped her with the mouse and she “blowed up” Daddy. I think she’s doomed to be a geek.