Permission to whine?

If you don't want to hear me whine, you should go look somewhere else right now.

Sorry.

Seriously, if a girl can't whine on her own blog, where CAN she whine?

I am 6 months pregnant. I currently weigh 8 lbs less than when I first got pregnant. This diet miracle is thanks to my gall bladder which seems to strongly object to pretty much anything I eat.

I don't eat so much these days. When I asked the ob if this was a problem for the baby and what should I do to make sure she gets what she needs, I was told, "Eh. At this point she's far enough along that you can think of her as a parasite. She's getting everything she needs from your body. You may end up malnourished, but she'll be fine."

This was not as comforting as I suspect the doctor was going for.

The lovely surgeon said that he really really didn't want to take out my gall bladder until after I deliver because A) they'd have to open me up with a big ol' gash in my side and B) any surgery carries with it the risk of pre-term labor. Which at 25 weeks would be bad. He really doesn't want to touch me now, though, because I'm past 25 weeks and my gall bladder is now working it way up my rib cage.

In the mean time, I can eat teeny tiny meals with no more than 5 grams of fat per every three hours or so. If I eat more, I get sick. If I eat meat, I get sick. If I eat cheese or butter, I get sick. I've essentially become a vegan. Which I don't really have a problem with, except I really love cheese and butter. And eggs. I like them, too.

And then even if I don't get sick and have an outright attack, I still am passing stones every now and then because according to the surgeon, my gall bladder is chock full of them. And do they give the pregnant lady some nice pain killers to deal with the passage of each stone? No. No they do not. No painkillers for me.

Now, I have delivered three very large babies with no drugs. Happily. I'm good with that. It's pain that has a purpose and an end and works out just fine for me. (No judgement for anyone who does it differently, this is just how I roll.) As far as I'm concerned, the pain of passing a gall stone serves no purpose, so I don't want to feel it. It's not like I can do anything to change it...well, except not breathe, but that's sort of a problem, too. And yet, I have four more months of this kind of excitement. More exciting because the surgeon pretty much expects to see me back in the ER before I deliver. I'm not allowed to get dehydrated, so as soon as I start throwing up, I have to head over and get fluids, again so I don't have pre-term labor.

My poor family has to live with this, too. Last night I made dinner put it on the table and then spent the rest of the time running to the sink to dry-heave and then come back for dinner conversation. Really, I would like to just go to bed. For the next four months or so. I'm tired. The whole not eating so much thing doesn't help my energy level at all. Oh, well.

Blah. Again, I realize that things could be so much worse and I shouldn't complain. But I'm sort of all done with the stiff upper lip thing this morning and just want to whine.

All better now.

Men, Part 2 (and women, too.)

Maybe it's just the hormones talking, but I'm a little annoyed with people lately. Yesterday, I went to the hospital for an ultrasound of my gall bladder because I've been having all sorts of symptoms that add up to attacks and issues with it.

Anyway, yesterday I took my medical order papers (from my ob/gyn,btw) in to the technician. She asked me to expose my belly so she could squirt that awful goo all over to do her test. As I'm laying on the bed, she notices that I have maternity pants on. "Oh," she says, "Did you just have a baby?"

Here's the thing. It seems like a fairly vital piece of information for the technician to be aware of since she's about to perform an ultrasound on my organs which because of said baby are smushed up all over the place. So, I say, "Um. Actually, I'm 5 and a half months pregnant."

"Oh, really?" she says. And then proceeds to do the test. But not before she asks me what I'm there for. Again, all I can think is, "Did you READ the papers I brought you? Isn't that part of your JOB?!" But I explain to her anyway, because at this point I feel like I should probably walk her through it since I have no confidence that she knows what she's doing.

I will say that it was over quickly and I was out of the hospital much quicker than I'd anticipated.

However, I came home and pinged a friend of mine who was on gmail. Anyway this was a snippet of the conversation that followed:

me: when you saw me, I looked pregnant, right?

this was not a difficult thing to discern?

him: hrm

possibly just fat

I'm not sure how to distinguish the two

me: I think I need to kill you now.
It is on these days that I think it is really too bad that all of my gay boy friends have jobs and work during the day. There are many times when you just want a man-friend who will both listen and not be a complete idiot.
On a bright note, yesterday all of my female friends noted my fabulous cleavage, but I think it was more because they'd read my blog than anything else.
I suppose I should blame my peevishness at the world on the hormones.

Attention, please!

Today was ultrasound #2. And....

Discomfort

About three times per pregnancy, my babies go through a major growth spurt. This is not a pleasant thing for the person in whom the baby is growing. You've all seen the movie Alien, right?

Good times.

I spend a couple of days feeling generally achy, just short of crampy. And also, my liver doesn't seem to be able to fit any more.

Silver lining: My posture gets better, though, as slowly baby and organs take over my rib cage making slouching an impossibility.

Anyway, today growth spurt number one has begun. I feel gross.

Oh, and did I mention we're feeding four bachelors tomorrow? Because everyone knows the BEST time to have a dinner party is when you feel like your liver is about to explode out of body.

In fact I'm sure Martha once said that. "When I was expecting Lexi..."

Silver lining: I will be the only woman and all the men are straight, so to heck with flowers and cleaning and all that.

Classy

Today on my way home from my spinning class, I was feeling slightly queasy. I'm pregnant. So, I've basically spent the 3 months feeling queasy. However, today was a little different. I made it half way home and then knew that this was not going away. So, I turned a quick corner, pulled over on the side of the road (right in front of my friend's house) and puked out my window.

This is the first time I've thrown up this whole pregnancy, so it was kind of sad to have that record end. AND I'll need to call my neighbor later to apologize. It was a few minutes after 7am, so I'm sure someone in their house was awake to witness such loveliness.

Why does pregnancy have to be so very unpleasant? I know there are people out there who breeze through it and think it's wonderful, but I am not one of them...and in fact, I know very few people like that. But seriously, the aftermath of actually having the baby is hard enough, why (evolutionarily speaking) should it be so difficult during? Tired makes sense to me. Growing another human is hard work. But everything else? The aches, the pains, the vomiting, the swelling, the crampy legs. What is all that for?

I know there are people who have really really horrible pregnancies and I shouldn't complain about my little silly aches and pains. I know there are people who would give anything to experience pregnancy and can't, and so I should quit my whining and be grateful.

But it's hard to remember that when I'm throwing up in the street like a college freshman after their first frat party.