I am surfacing from the vast and various alternate universes of my students' papers to try to write a bit. I am graded 7--yes, that's SEVEN--papers so far today, and Amelia is about to finish out hour 3--yes, that's THREE--of her nap, so I figure I have about 15 minutes to write.
The 200th post is a milestone, or it seems like it should be. But this will be rushed. I feel like I have a lot to say and not much time, so here are ten facts about our lives lately, in no particular order:
1. We are still tired. Last week Amelia gave us 2 glorious nights of a full 8 hours of sleep, then went back to her old pattern of waking up 2-3 times a night. Sometimes she will go back to sleep on her own, sometimes not. Is she teething? Lonely? In some sort of new developmental leap? I don't know. I have grown weary of speculating about it. All that gives me hope is how many people promise that eventually she will sleep more. Today I was looking at the pear trees that have bloomed behind our house, whose white blossoms somehow reminded me that last year at this time I was throwing up every morning. So next year, maybe I will the pear trees blooming will remind me that last year at this time, I was so, so tired, and it will have passed.
2. Amelia is sitting up on her own! Sort of. If you're not right there with her she'll wilt or flop down and bang her head on the ground. Still, it's fun to be able to read to her or play with her without always also holding her.
3. Amelia has become more interested in rice cereal, especially since 2 days ago when we mixed in a mushed up slice of banana. We are going to try applesauce and green beans this weekend.
4. It occurred to me yesterday that teaching part time and staying with Amelia the rest of the time is the hardest thing I have ever done. Although it's great to have all the help we have, when I am alone with A during the days, I feel like a just do a rather bad job at both preparing for school and caring for her. However, I suspect that any combination of working and having a baby--working full time and leaving her with someone else for most of the week, or staying home with her exclusively-- would still be the hardest thing I have ever done. So I am reminding myself to enjoy all the benefits of the situation I am in, particularly all the wonderful grandmother time A enjoys.
5. I have written exactly zero poems or poem-like things since I began grading these
godforsaken papers. I got a little note from the American Poetry Review yesterday; shockingly, they did not accept the poem I submitted for publication. I have had lots of ideas for poems, though, and have scribbled some of them on scraps of paper. So that's something, I guess.
6. Amelia is waking up. So only 6 things about our lives. I am posting this without rereading it. Wish me luck on the papers, and I'll try to post more pictures soon.
Showing posts with label Morning Sickness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Morning Sickness. Show all posts
Friday, March 26, 2010
Friday, July 31, 2009
Eating
Every morning when I wake up, I have a few beautiful moments free of both hunger and nausea. I rest and listen to see if the baby is awake. (It's a listening of body for body, not of the ear for sound.) She usually is, my wiggle baby wiggling to greet the dawn, which maybe she senses, although she can't tell the room is lightening. Then, suddenly, the hunger comes: I am starving.
And every morning I try to think what I can eat that won't make me nauseous.
With this round of morning sickness, which really is relegated to the mornings, I feel like an anthropologist studying myself and the queasiness. I take a lot of mental notes: Cinnamon Toast Crunch is delicious but seems hard to digest. Blueberry pancakes are perfect for a few days, then out the the question. I baked banana bread two weeks in a row and had that with a glass of milk for awhile. Scrambled eggs are okay but only after I've been up for awhile, so they won't do for Breakfast One, which must occur within 15 minutes of waking. Oatmeal is tolerable, but an ordeal to make so early. Today, thinking the combination of protein and whole grain might be good, I had peanut butter on toast with a cup of milk. So far so good...
The relationship of pregnancy to eating is fascinating; more books should be written about it. There is a hunger that is unique to pregnancy, deep, gnawing, bottomless. There is is the fact that pregnant women often find themselves hating food they normally love, devouring food they wouldn't have touched before they were pregnant. I personally always imagined myself eating a healthy diet of all-organic fruits and veggies when pregnant, and I've eaten more McDonald's cheeseburgers in the past month that I had at least 10 or more years before I was pregnant. Of course, I wasn't eating much meat or at McDonald's as a rule, but still. And I can't tolerate some of my and Dean's favorite pre-pregnancy meals (insert elegy to tofu soft tacos here). There are women who, possibly due to anemia, crave ice, paint chips, clay. And always there is the fact, if not a current prominent worry at least in the back of your mind, that what you eat the baby eats, that your baby is literally being made of the food you just or are about to put into your mouth.
The wiggle baby must be at least 25% Bryer's vanilla ice cream.
The book What to Expect When You're Expecting, which I personally do not like, lays out a whole diet for pregnant women. It's called something like "the best chances diet," and it promotes the diet by saying, "You only have nine months to give your baby the best start possible. Make every single bite count."
That may have been the point at which I put that book aside for good. (I may have been eating Doritos at the time.) Pregnancy, and of course motherhood, involves a certain amount of self-sacrifice, but come on now. Every bite? Follow that advice, and you're setting yourself up for nine months of extreme guilt and worry.
I do wish, though, that I had more options for healthy lunches at work. If I want to follow my doctor's advice to eat more red meat as part of lunch at UMD, my options are, literally, McDonald's or the beef and broccoli at the Chinese fast food buffet. It's too bad someone doesn't start a fast food chain with hormone-free, free range beef (and chicken and potatoes and etc. (Gotta have those free range potatoes...)).
If you charted my eating habits by healthiness, the line would go dramatically up and down. Whole grain toast and organic milk--up for healthy! McDonald's value meal number 3--down for NOT so healthy! Organic cherries, plums and blueberries--up! Bag of Doritos--down! Lentils and rice--up! And then of course the last meal of the day, the vanilla ice cream. Here we have some middle ground. I consider the ice cream healthy because of the calcium, and because I need it to fall asleep without getting hungry, but of course there is the sugar.
And finally, there are the random cravings, the urges, the "I must eat this now or else" impulses that take over the mind until the craving is satisfied. Case in point, yesterday at work there was a cake. It was for a very nice woman who is leaving the office. From the moment I saw the cake, I needed to eat it. Luckily this woman working a half-day so we got to have the cake at 11:00 AM. I went in and had my small, office-party-sized slice--and it was DELICIOUS. It was just a regular sheet cake from a Giant grocery store, and I usually think grocery store cakes are a little gross because they have that oily frosting, but this one had real buttercream frosting, complete with pink AND chocolate roses and green leaves.
When the little party was over, about a third of the cake, maybe a bit more, was left. Someone said, "We'll just leave this here, and other people can have some later." And back to our desks we went.
The rest of the day, I was haunted by the presence of the cake. I knew it was just sitting there, waiting for me to come get a fork and eat it all in one sitting. I wanted the cake, the baby wanted the cake, we really, really wanted the cake. But sadly, sadly, in the meantime everyone in the office kept urging the professors to "go get a piece of cake." They are very kind to me at work but I just thought that saying I had to go eat the entire rest of the cake might have been crossing some kind of line.
At lunch, there was still cake and I had another piece. But again, I had to leave it (about an eighth of the whole cake left by then) and go back to my desk.
At about 2:00, I went back for one more sliver. And when I left for the day, the cake was gone.
And every morning I try to think what I can eat that won't make me nauseous.
With this round of morning sickness, which really is relegated to the mornings, I feel like an anthropologist studying myself and the queasiness. I take a lot of mental notes: Cinnamon Toast Crunch is delicious but seems hard to digest. Blueberry pancakes are perfect for a few days, then out the the question. I baked banana bread two weeks in a row and had that with a glass of milk for awhile. Scrambled eggs are okay but only after I've been up for awhile, so they won't do for Breakfast One, which must occur within 15 minutes of waking. Oatmeal is tolerable, but an ordeal to make so early. Today, thinking the combination of protein and whole grain might be good, I had peanut butter on toast with a cup of milk. So far so good...
The relationship of pregnancy to eating is fascinating; more books should be written about it. There is a hunger that is unique to pregnancy, deep, gnawing, bottomless. There is is the fact that pregnant women often find themselves hating food they normally love, devouring food they wouldn't have touched before they were pregnant. I personally always imagined myself eating a healthy diet of all-organic fruits and veggies when pregnant, and I've eaten more McDonald's cheeseburgers in the past month that I had at least 10 or more years before I was pregnant. Of course, I wasn't eating much meat or at McDonald's as a rule, but still. And I can't tolerate some of my and Dean's favorite pre-pregnancy meals (insert elegy to tofu soft tacos here). There are women who, possibly due to anemia, crave ice, paint chips, clay. And always there is the fact, if not a current prominent worry at least in the back of your mind, that what you eat the baby eats, that your baby is literally being made of the food you just or are about to put into your mouth.
The wiggle baby must be at least 25% Bryer's vanilla ice cream.
The book What to Expect When You're Expecting, which I personally do not like, lays out a whole diet for pregnant women. It's called something like "the best chances diet," and it promotes the diet by saying, "You only have nine months to give your baby the best start possible. Make every single bite count."
That may have been the point at which I put that book aside for good. (I may have been eating Doritos at the time.) Pregnancy, and of course motherhood, involves a certain amount of self-sacrifice, but come on now. Every bite? Follow that advice, and you're setting yourself up for nine months of extreme guilt and worry.
I do wish, though, that I had more options for healthy lunches at work. If I want to follow my doctor's advice to eat more red meat as part of lunch at UMD, my options are, literally, McDonald's or the beef and broccoli at the Chinese fast food buffet. It's too bad someone doesn't start a fast food chain with hormone-free, free range beef (and chicken and potatoes and etc. (Gotta have those free range potatoes...)).
If you charted my eating habits by healthiness, the line would go dramatically up and down. Whole grain toast and organic milk--up for healthy! McDonald's value meal number 3--down for NOT so healthy! Organic cherries, plums and blueberries--up! Bag of Doritos--down! Lentils and rice--up! And then of course the last meal of the day, the vanilla ice cream. Here we have some middle ground. I consider the ice cream healthy because of the calcium, and because I need it to fall asleep without getting hungry, but of course there is the sugar.
And finally, there are the random cravings, the urges, the "I must eat this now or else" impulses that take over the mind until the craving is satisfied. Case in point, yesterday at work there was a cake. It was for a very nice woman who is leaving the office. From the moment I saw the cake, I needed to eat it. Luckily this woman working a half-day so we got to have the cake at 11:00 AM. I went in and had my small, office-party-sized slice--and it was DELICIOUS. It was just a regular sheet cake from a Giant grocery store, and I usually think grocery store cakes are a little gross because they have that oily frosting, but this one had real buttercream frosting, complete with pink AND chocolate roses and green leaves.
When the little party was over, about a third of the cake, maybe a bit more, was left. Someone said, "We'll just leave this here, and other people can have some later." And back to our desks we went.
The rest of the day, I was haunted by the presence of the cake. I knew it was just sitting there, waiting for me to come get a fork and eat it all in one sitting. I wanted the cake, the baby wanted the cake, we really, really wanted the cake. But sadly, sadly, in the meantime everyone in the office kept urging the professors to "go get a piece of cake." They are very kind to me at work but I just thought that saying I had to go eat the entire rest of the cake might have been crossing some kind of line.
At lunch, there was still cake and I had another piece. But again, I had to leave it (about an eighth of the whole cake left by then) and go back to my desk.
At about 2:00, I went back for one more sliver. And when I left for the day, the cake was gone.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Joy, Terror, Despair
Those are the three emotions I seem to cycle through on a fairly regular basis. To call them "mood swings" is a bit of an understatement. I'm talking extreme happiness one day, extreme sadness the next. Yes, I know--the hormones. But it's been interesting to consider what else causes these feelings.
The terror should be pretty obvious. I am having a baby and I am going to have to figure out what to do with it--I mean her. I've read enough to know that there is no real way to plan for this. Of course on the one hand there are LOTS of ways to plan. We've picked out baby items. Set up a crib. Signed up for birth and baby care classes. I have read tons and tons and tons about pregnancy, labor, birth, the first year, sleeping, nursing, etc. But until it happens, I have no way of knowing what will actually happen! I don't know when the baby is coming, or how, and I don't know how long I will need to stop teaching after she comes. I don't know how nursing will go. I don't know if the used breast pump I just got will work. I don't know how much I will get to sleep. If at all.
I don't know from day to day if I will feel good, horrible or somewhere in the middle. I don't know if I will have a good writing day or be too tired or nauseous to write anything worth saving. I am a planner. I like to be in control. I like to make lists and cross things off as I complete them. Having a baby is a huge reminder of how out of control life really is. It's overwhelming.
Being overwhelmed, I think, mixed with the terror like some kind of cheap, sub par martini bar cocktail, leads to the despair.
But.
At the same time--actually NOT at the same time, but soon or eventually following--is the joy. I have a lot to celebrate. In fact (caution--swift mood-swing-like transition here--), I thought I would take some time to count my blessings:
1) I have a very healthy baby! This is too easy to take for granted. A friend of a friend is pregnant with twin boys and has had a really scary, difficult time. Each time I remember her I feel guilty for being blue about nausea, weariness, the uncertainty of the future, or just plain nothing. I am very, very thankful that the baby has been so healthy and happy. (Every time the doctor checks her heartbeat, he says, "What a happy baby!")
2) I have a great husband and partner. Dean is very patient, loving and supportive. He is very excited about the part where the baby actually comes, which I find very helpful and hopeful. If I say I am terrified, he waves his hand and says "It's going to be great!" (This COULD be annoying but isn't--it's actually extremely reassuring.)
3) I have a wonderful family. From parents to parents-in-law, sister to aunts and everyone in between, my entire family has been nothing but kind, loving, generous and supportive. The nameless wiggle baby is very loved already.
4) I have terrific friends. You know who you are. Without your endless and amazingly thorough advice, I would be a zillion times more lost and overwhelmed.
5) I have a flexible, relatively well-paying summer job that gives me time to write.
6) I have a flexible, relatively well-paying teaching gig for the fall, AND I found a great person to fill in for me for 6 weeks after the baby is born. Dean's job will allow him to stay home with the baby while I teach two mornings a week after that.
7) We have a lovely (albeit rented) home, well-chilled with central air, lots of good food, a soft bed, a soft cat (and soft pillows, a soft couch, six-and-counting soft, soft baby blankets...)
8) The blueberry cobbler I made yesterday turned out well! I am NOT a good baker, folks. This was a real triumph. I can go to the fridge at any time and get some, with ice cream. Yum.
9) We have home-grown tomatoes just steps from our back door.
10) Dean just came home and is going to cook dinner for me.
11) I have spent the last hour on the aforementioned soft couch, doing what I love (a.k.a. writing), with the wiggle baby kicking or bopping around inside me in a happy and reassuring fashion.
What more could a wanna-be poet and mama-to-be ask for?
The terror should be pretty obvious. I am having a baby and I am going to have to figure out what to do with it--I mean her. I've read enough to know that there is no real way to plan for this. Of course on the one hand there are LOTS of ways to plan. We've picked out baby items. Set up a crib. Signed up for birth and baby care classes. I have read tons and tons and tons about pregnancy, labor, birth, the first year, sleeping, nursing, etc. But until it happens, I have no way of knowing what will actually happen! I don't know when the baby is coming, or how, and I don't know how long I will need to stop teaching after she comes. I don't know how nursing will go. I don't know if the used breast pump I just got will work. I don't know how much I will get to sleep. If at all.
I don't know from day to day if I will feel good, horrible or somewhere in the middle. I don't know if I will have a good writing day or be too tired or nauseous to write anything worth saving. I am a planner. I like to be in control. I like to make lists and cross things off as I complete them. Having a baby is a huge reminder of how out of control life really is. It's overwhelming.
Being overwhelmed, I think, mixed with the terror like some kind of cheap, sub par martini bar cocktail, leads to the despair.
But.
At the same time--actually NOT at the same time, but soon or eventually following--is the joy. I have a lot to celebrate. In fact (caution--swift mood-swing-like transition here--), I thought I would take some time to count my blessings:
1) I have a very healthy baby! This is too easy to take for granted. A friend of a friend is pregnant with twin boys and has had a really scary, difficult time. Each time I remember her I feel guilty for being blue about nausea, weariness, the uncertainty of the future, or just plain nothing. I am very, very thankful that the baby has been so healthy and happy. (Every time the doctor checks her heartbeat, he says, "What a happy baby!")
2) I have a great husband and partner. Dean is very patient, loving and supportive. He is very excited about the part where the baby actually comes, which I find very helpful and hopeful. If I say I am terrified, he waves his hand and says "It's going to be great!" (This COULD be annoying but isn't--it's actually extremely reassuring.)
3) I have a wonderful family. From parents to parents-in-law, sister to aunts and everyone in between, my entire family has been nothing but kind, loving, generous and supportive. The nameless wiggle baby is very loved already.
4) I have terrific friends. You know who you are. Without your endless and amazingly thorough advice, I would be a zillion times more lost and overwhelmed.
5) I have a flexible, relatively well-paying summer job that gives me time to write.
6) I have a flexible, relatively well-paying teaching gig for the fall, AND I found a great person to fill in for me for 6 weeks after the baby is born. Dean's job will allow him to stay home with the baby while I teach two mornings a week after that.
7) We have a lovely (albeit rented) home, well-chilled with central air, lots of good food, a soft bed, a soft cat (and soft pillows, a soft couch, six-and-counting soft, soft baby blankets...)
8) The blueberry cobbler I made yesterday turned out well! I am NOT a good baker, folks. This was a real triumph. I can go to the fridge at any time and get some, with ice cream. Yum.
9) We have home-grown tomatoes just steps from our back door.
10) Dean just came home and is going to cook dinner for me.
11) I have spent the last hour on the aforementioned soft couch, doing what I love (a.k.a. writing), with the wiggle baby kicking or bopping around inside me in a happy and reassuring fashion.
What more could a wanna-be poet and mama-to-be ask for?
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Good-Bye May
It's crazy to think it's the last day of May. May has been a blur for me. It seems like it just started.
The last week has been somewhat eventful. First, I got an exciting package in the mail from my mom and sister, including some new maternity jeans (WHY do they fall down when they have such a nice belly to cling to???) and THESE beautiful shirts from Heather, tie-dye artist extraordinaire.
Also, I started my new job in the English Department. The department is moving to a new building in another week, so mostly, I've been packing boxes. I also did a significant amount of shredding paper. After the move, I'll be unpacking and organizing, and then, I suppose, other office work when everything is settled.
I also sat back down at the computer again last week, to write poems. It's a difficult stage, restarting. I don't have much at all that I was already working on. In a way beginnings are fun, but they are also overwhelming and slightly scary. I always wonder if I will actually be able to write another poem. All the previous poems almost seem like flukes. I've learned in the past, though, that if I just sit down and keep writing, something will come along.
The baby and I had another checkup last week too. Her heartbeat was super easy to find and the doctor said she was a "happy little baby." She is certainly a wiggle worm. I can feel her a lot now. Last night I had an alarming episode in which I woke up and realized I had turned from my side to halfway onto my stomach. I moved and she immediately began to jump and shimmy. Was I squashing her? Anyway, she seems okay now.
I was instructed at my appointment to eat more. The baby is growing right on schedule but they would like me to gain a bit more weight. It's kind of crazy because I feel like I eat all the time, but interestingly, since the appointment, I have felt even hungrier than I already did.
Pregnancy hunger, at least mine, is not the fun I thought it would be. It seemed like it'd be very delightful to be hungry and eating for two. And I read about how delightful it is for other women. (Of course, that was in the same books that say the second trimester is the trimester of boundless energy. Must be nice.) THIS pregnancy hunger is vicious. It appears out of nowhere as a gnawing, hollow pain, impossible to ignore, and accompanied by nausea and a vague faintness. It demands immediate satisfaction. For we mamas that are still kind of queasy a lot of the time, it's not always easy to solve. Lots of random things to eat seem gross to me, and at random times. One day I crave hamburgers, the next hamburgers are the most disgusting things I've ever heard of eating. And when I do crave something, it's not like a mild desire, as in, "Oh, I'd like some turtle cheesecake, maybe tonight for dessert;" it's an immediate and vital need, like the need for oxygen. Whatever I crave MUST BE FOUND and it must be found as soon as possible, as in "I've been to all five bakeries in Capitol Hill looking for turtle cheesecake, and am seriously considering taking the Metro to Dupont Circle to continue searching for it, even though I've neither showered nor accomplished a single thing I need to do today." (True story. I didn't go to Dupont Circle looking, though, I just went home and ate half of Dean's birthday carrot cake instead. It was a poor yet delicious substitute.)
Here's a day in the life of my hunger. If I eat right away in the morning, I am okay, although always a little queasy for the first hour or so after waking up. My breakfast of choice this last week is a bagel with cream cheese and a cup of tea. 45 minutes after waking up, I am hungry again. I usually eat a smoothie and yogurt. Then it's just a matter of maintaining. I usually eat a third breakfast by the time I leave the house, or pick up something on the way to the Metro (think McDonald's sausage biscuits with grape jelly. I ate so many of those around weeks 15-18 that I am kind of shocked I didn't gain more weight from them alone.) After the Metro ride, I'm hungry again, and luckily I can pack boxes and eat at the same time.
It's kind of tiring to be always thinking about eating or eating. It's hard to find that much stuff I WANT to eat, and I've been spending a lot of money getting food while I am out. (I did find the Union Station deal of the century the other day: a chicken salad sandwich on homemade bread AND two scoops of exquisite gelato for $6.)
The hunger seems to be worst in the afternoon. It just seems unquenchable. For example, I had the normal morning, we ate a decent lunch at 1:30, and then I was okay till about 3. I came in from the garden and ate half a sandwich (tofukey and provolone) and some chips and then some Dove dark chocolate. Then I took a shower. Not a long shower. By the time I was dry, I was hungry again. I made a duplicate of the above snack. Now it's about 30 minutes later. I am hungry again. I know those aren't HUGE snacks, but I've been eating all day.
And it's been like this for several afternoons. I am going to call the doctor tomorrow and make sure this is normal. I guess the baby just likes to eat in the afternoon. Just like getting up to eat and pee a zillion times a night, perhaps this is all practice for the real thing, when I'll be feeding a baby even more times a day than I myself am eating now. In the meantime, I'm going downstairs to get something else to eat.
The last week has been somewhat eventful. First, I got an exciting package in the mail from my mom and sister, including some new maternity jeans (WHY do they fall down when they have such a nice belly to cling to???) and THESE beautiful shirts from Heather, tie-dye artist extraordinaire.
Also, I started my new job in the English Department. The department is moving to a new building in another week, so mostly, I've been packing boxes. I also did a significant amount of shredding paper. After the move, I'll be unpacking and organizing, and then, I suppose, other office work when everything is settled.
I also sat back down at the computer again last week, to write poems. It's a difficult stage, restarting. I don't have much at all that I was already working on. In a way beginnings are fun, but they are also overwhelming and slightly scary. I always wonder if I will actually be able to write another poem. All the previous poems almost seem like flukes. I've learned in the past, though, that if I just sit down and keep writing, something will come along.
The baby and I had another checkup last week too. Her heartbeat was super easy to find and the doctor said she was a "happy little baby." She is certainly a wiggle worm. I can feel her a lot now. Last night I had an alarming episode in which I woke up and realized I had turned from my side to halfway onto my stomach. I moved and she immediately began to jump and shimmy. Was I squashing her? Anyway, she seems okay now.
I was instructed at my appointment to eat more. The baby is growing right on schedule but they would like me to gain a bit more weight. It's kind of crazy because I feel like I eat all the time, but interestingly, since the appointment, I have felt even hungrier than I already did.
Pregnancy hunger, at least mine, is not the fun I thought it would be. It seemed like it'd be very delightful to be hungry and eating for two. And I read about how delightful it is for other women. (Of course, that was in the same books that say the second trimester is the trimester of boundless energy. Must be nice.) THIS pregnancy hunger is vicious. It appears out of nowhere as a gnawing, hollow pain, impossible to ignore, and accompanied by nausea and a vague faintness. It demands immediate satisfaction. For we mamas that are still kind of queasy a lot of the time, it's not always easy to solve. Lots of random things to eat seem gross to me, and at random times. One day I crave hamburgers, the next hamburgers are the most disgusting things I've ever heard of eating. And when I do crave something, it's not like a mild desire, as in, "Oh, I'd like some turtle cheesecake, maybe tonight for dessert;" it's an immediate and vital need, like the need for oxygen. Whatever I crave MUST BE FOUND and it must be found as soon as possible, as in "I've been to all five bakeries in Capitol Hill looking for turtle cheesecake, and am seriously considering taking the Metro to Dupont Circle to continue searching for it, even though I've neither showered nor accomplished a single thing I need to do today." (True story. I didn't go to Dupont Circle looking, though, I just went home and ate half of Dean's birthday carrot cake instead. It was a poor yet delicious substitute.)
Here's a day in the life of my hunger. If I eat right away in the morning, I am okay, although always a little queasy for the first hour or so after waking up. My breakfast of choice this last week is a bagel with cream cheese and a cup of tea. 45 minutes after waking up, I am hungry again. I usually eat a smoothie and yogurt. Then it's just a matter of maintaining. I usually eat a third breakfast by the time I leave the house, or pick up something on the way to the Metro (think McDonald's sausage biscuits with grape jelly. I ate so many of those around weeks 15-18 that I am kind of shocked I didn't gain more weight from them alone.) After the Metro ride, I'm hungry again, and luckily I can pack boxes and eat at the same time.
It's kind of tiring to be always thinking about eating or eating. It's hard to find that much stuff I WANT to eat, and I've been spending a lot of money getting food while I am out. (I did find the Union Station deal of the century the other day: a chicken salad sandwich on homemade bread AND two scoops of exquisite gelato for $6.)
The hunger seems to be worst in the afternoon. It just seems unquenchable. For example, I had the normal morning, we ate a decent lunch at 1:30, and then I was okay till about 3. I came in from the garden and ate half a sandwich (tofukey and provolone) and some chips and then some Dove dark chocolate. Then I took a shower. Not a long shower. By the time I was dry, I was hungry again. I made a duplicate of the above snack. Now it's about 30 minutes later. I am hungry again. I know those aren't HUGE snacks, but I've been eating all day.
And it's been like this for several afternoons. I am going to call the doctor tomorrow and make sure this is normal. I guess the baby just likes to eat in the afternoon. Just like getting up to eat and pee a zillion times a night, perhaps this is all practice for the real thing, when I'll be feeding a baby even more times a day than I myself am eating now. In the meantime, I'm going downstairs to get something else to eat.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Monday Update
I taught my last classes today. These COULD be the last classes I ever teach at UMD, depending on what happens next year. It was a pleasant day, not any actual teaching--just course evaluations, and for my poetry students, a final small group workshop and then a large group reading. We each brought in a single poem, just to read, not to workshop.
Interestingly, I got through a whole semester without telling my students about the pregnancy (although I know at least one or two of the poetry students, young women, have been checking out my belly). And I still haven't told anyone at school, because they still haven't announced lecturer positions for next year. So I am still stuck in a weird purgatory state with announcing and planning.
I found out I was pregnant (at least, I got the first of many positive pregnancy tests) the night before the first day of classes. January 26 or so? That's a long time to keep a secret.
I remember I felt AWFUL for about 2 days. Like I'd been run over by a truck. And my nose started running ALL the time. Then I felt better till about 6 weeks or so.
I still feel vaguely nauseous from time to time--pretty much every morning and random other times too. I guess that's not going to go away.
Anyway, in other news, I won a teaching award. I am a "Distinguished Teaching Assistant," one of 8 chosen by the English Department. It made me happy to find out. (THAT'S why they should want to keep me as a teacher.)
Also, I got a summer job with the English Department! I've been offered 20-30 hours a week to work as an office assistant. The pay ended up being decent, and I think I am going to take it. My other option is temping again. Theoretically, I could make more money temping, but to do that, I would also have to work more hours. It will be nice to work part time so that I can still write, as well as to be able to count on my schedule. With temp work you just never know. Last year I waited for jobs for a long time, then got an AWFUL stint at the Washington Post (NOT as interesting as it sounds; I was filing over a year's worth of car dealership and housing development ads). Then I was off some more, till I landed what was supposed to be two weeks as a receptionist at a law firm. Nine weeks later, I will still there. It was a mixed blessing--nice to have the work, but long, LONG hours--as in many hours a day, as well as hours that seemed to last for days.
What else? Several lovely people are planning baby showers for me, so I have gotten busy with the baby registries and such (as you can see to the right of the posts). I've made some big decisions: crib, stroller, car seat, although I am still researching a few details. I've learned a LOT about strollers in the past week. And I've probably creeped out my share of parents and babysitters, because I've peered at a lot of strollers too. The stroller decision is a big one for the city dweller. A lot of the strollers we saw on our Babies-R-Us field trip looked too flimsy for Capitol Hill's uneven brick sidewalks. As it turns out, many of the parents in our neighborhood have chosen strollers that are extremely expensive. But I think I found a good option (the City Mini, in case you're wondering).
And, the mystery baby has been moving around. It's mostly very faint movements, so faint I am sometimes unsure I am actually feeling the baby move. It feels like flutters or involuntary twitches on my insides. Sometimes, it feels like pressure pushing downward on whatever is just below the uterus. Cervix? I need my diagram. One night, the night of the poetry reading, I felt actual kicks--not hard, but definite kicks, sort of like light poking in my left side. Maybe the mystery baby was congratulating me?
I got a lot of kind comments about the poetry reading (this was the student prize reading). I am meeting with my thesis advisor one last time, tomorrow afternoon. I want to talk about what to do next. I suppose I am officially working on a book now.
The last random fact for the day: at nineteen weeks, the baby is "the size of a large heirloom tomato." (We've come a long way from lentil!)
Interestingly, I got through a whole semester without telling my students about the pregnancy (although I know at least one or two of the poetry students, young women, have been checking out my belly). And I still haven't told anyone at school, because they still haven't announced lecturer positions for next year. So I am still stuck in a weird purgatory state with announcing and planning.
I found out I was pregnant (at least, I got the first of many positive pregnancy tests) the night before the first day of classes. January 26 or so? That's a long time to keep a secret.
I remember I felt AWFUL for about 2 days. Like I'd been run over by a truck. And my nose started running ALL the time. Then I felt better till about 6 weeks or so.
I still feel vaguely nauseous from time to time--pretty much every morning and random other times too. I guess that's not going to go away.
Anyway, in other news, I won a teaching award. I am a "Distinguished Teaching Assistant," one of 8 chosen by the English Department. It made me happy to find out. (THAT'S why they should want to keep me as a teacher.)
Also, I got a summer job with the English Department! I've been offered 20-30 hours a week to work as an office assistant. The pay ended up being decent, and I think I am going to take it. My other option is temping again. Theoretically, I could make more money temping, but to do that, I would also have to work more hours. It will be nice to work part time so that I can still write, as well as to be able to count on my schedule. With temp work you just never know. Last year I waited for jobs for a long time, then got an AWFUL stint at the Washington Post (NOT as interesting as it sounds; I was filing over a year's worth of car dealership and housing development ads). Then I was off some more, till I landed what was supposed to be two weeks as a receptionist at a law firm. Nine weeks later, I will still there. It was a mixed blessing--nice to have the work, but long, LONG hours--as in many hours a day, as well as hours that seemed to last for days.
What else? Several lovely people are planning baby showers for me, so I have gotten busy with the baby registries and such (as you can see to the right of the posts). I've made some big decisions: crib, stroller, car seat, although I am still researching a few details. I've learned a LOT about strollers in the past week. And I've probably creeped out my share of parents and babysitters, because I've peered at a lot of strollers too. The stroller decision is a big one for the city dweller. A lot of the strollers we saw on our Babies-R-Us field trip looked too flimsy for Capitol Hill's uneven brick sidewalks. As it turns out, many of the parents in our neighborhood have chosen strollers that are extremely expensive. But I think I found a good option (the City Mini, in case you're wondering).
And, the mystery baby has been moving around. It's mostly very faint movements, so faint I am sometimes unsure I am actually feeling the baby move. It feels like flutters or involuntary twitches on my insides. Sometimes, it feels like pressure pushing downward on whatever is just below the uterus. Cervix? I need my diagram. One night, the night of the poetry reading, I felt actual kicks--not hard, but definite kicks, sort of like light poking in my left side. Maybe the mystery baby was congratulating me?
I got a lot of kind comments about the poetry reading (this was the student prize reading). I am meeting with my thesis advisor one last time, tomorrow afternoon. I want to talk about what to do next. I suppose I am officially working on a book now.
The last random fact for the day: at nineteen weeks, the baby is "the size of a large heirloom tomato." (We've come a long way from lentil!)
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Don't worry, I have the baby.
I've been entertaining myself to no end with that thought. Like I'll want to call Dean or send an email: "Don't worry, the baby's with me." It's hilarious, in my view. And when I'm doing something, I'll think about the baby and I doing it. "The baby and I are driving to College Park." "The baby and I are at a poetry reading." "The baby and I are amused that this student, who does not know that his teacher is pregnant and thus has the sense of smell of a bloodhound with superpowers, has come to his conference having just smoked weed." Etc.
It came about the other day when I was looking in the mirror at my belly. I was thinking about all the people who are so excited about the baby-- grandparents-to-be, our friends, other family members-- and it occurred to me that I have the baby. The baby that everyone is so excited about is with me. It felt like an honor.
Yes, folks, I think I've officially entered the second trimester, complete with LACK OF NAUSEA, a supposed "glow" (as reported by Laura), and happy, happy thoughts about the pregnancy. This video, sent to me by a friend, made me cry. I was afraid the second trimester was a myth, but it's true! (I'm having "chicken or the egg" thoughts about the coincidence of the feeling better with the happiness. Do you feel better because you're happy, or vice versa?)
But now that I'm not IN it, I have some things to say about the morning sickness. First, we should stop calling it morning sickness. It's criminal. All of these innocent women, considering having a baby: sure, we've heard of morning sickness. We've seen the women on TV throwing up in the morning. They finish, wipe their mouths, and move on with their days. We can handle "morning sickness." I thought (when I thought about it at all, which was not very much) that I'd maybe feel a little sick sometimes, and then feel okay, and bop about my merry way for the first few months until I started to show and plan baby showers.
To all of my non-mother friends out there, who might one day be pregnant, this is important: The Pregnancy Starts To Change Your Life Immediately. If/when you become pregnant, you might be lucky and not feel sick, and I fervently hope that's the case, because I wouldn't wish "morning sickness" on anyone, but you might very well feel like death warmed over for up to and over 2 and a half months.
For the record, I felt TERRIBLE from about 6 weeks to about 13 and a half weeks (about last Thursday). I threw up at least once a day for about 70% of that time (actually, usually in the morning, but sometimes randomly in the afternoon). I felt simultaneously queasy and hungry for most of the day and night. A myriad of smells made me gag, including coffee and cooking garlic, both scents I usually love. Sometimes I gagged for no apparent reason, such as when I was walking down the street. I wanted to eat, but the thought of most food was revolting. Sometimes I had very bad headaches. Sometimes I was so tired I literally thought I would not be able to get up off the Metro to change trains. I imagined just sitting there on the Red Line all day, going back and forth between Glenmont and Shady Grove, till someone kicked me off. There were good days, days when I gardened or did something fun with Dean or a friend, and good hours even on bad days, but for the most part, I felt awful.
I was also worried. I was worried about the baby, because other that the (many) pregnancy tests I took, I had no other sign besides the sickness that I was pregnant till about 10 weeks, when I heard the heartbeat. I wondered if it was okay, if I had somehow hurt it before I knew I was pregnant, if it was getting enough nutrients. I worried about not doing a good enough job on teaching when I was so distracted by feeling bad. I worried about not writing enough. I worried that we had ruined our lives, and spent almost every Friday night sobbing on the couch in exhaustion. (It was a lot of fun for Dean.)
I know, those last 2 paragraphs are a real downer. But I really, really want to record how I felt, because I am quickly forgetting, and it was real. I think what happens is, for women who do feel sick or sicker than I did, that once you get over it, you're so incredibly HAPPY. And it doesn't seem to matter anymore. Maybe it doesn't matter, but it still happened, and I want to record it. I think the first trimester of pregnancy doesn't get enough attention. But it's an extremely important time for the baby, and it can, in my experience, be a very difficult time for the mother. It's a lonely time. You might not be sharing your pregnancy with many people yet, no one can SEE that you're pregnant, and for the most part, no one can see how you feel. You're adjusting to the idea of being a mother. If you're like me, you have a very wonderful partner to make you grits and eggs when you're starving but the refrigerator smells make you gag, but even if you're that lucky (and some women aren't, like a certain single mother I know, who deserves a medal), even your partner doesn't really know how you feel, and can't do much else to help. I just think we should better acknowledge that the first trimester can be a difficult time, even if you're thrilled to be pregnant. I don't know if reading something like I've just written would have made me better prepared for the first part of pregnancy, but it might have.
And I'm not saying I would have postponed the pregnancy had I known all this. I might have, considering that I ended up spending a lot of prime writing hours huddled on the couch under a big brown blanket. But I don't think I would have. And I'm not saying, either, that it totally sucked and nothing good came out of it. The nausea DID totally suck, but at the same time, I learned a lot about myself. I learned that I can make a gag sound like a sneeze. I learned that I can do a LOT even when I don't feel good. For the most part, I managed to teach, keep up with grading, meet with my adviser, volunteer once a week, and do my usual household stuff even through the tiredness and queasiness. I even wrote a new poem. On the other hand, I also learned what can be let go of when necessary--I can skip vacuuming, get a sub for Street Sense, cancel a class if I have to, let the writing go. It will be there when I get back. I think these are going to be very important lessons for the future, such as, perhaps, the third trimester, which gets mixed reviews, or the time right after the baby is born, which I am terrified about, or, oh, say, THE REST OF MY LIFE, in which I will have a child to take care of.
Anyway--and anyone who's read the blog since I started it, or read this far in this post for that matter, is probably glad to hear this-- I don't expect to write or think about "morning sickness" much anymore, and I am very, very glad to be rid of it. But it was important to me to record a reflection on the last few months.
Now, I am very much looking forward to the fun things about pregnancy, such as planning a shower, finding out if the baby's a boy or a girl, picking out a name, arranging a nursery (or turning the hallway into a nursery), and walking around with a smug "I'm pregnant and blissful" expression. And it's spring! My favorite season. I love the warmth.
In the meantime, don't worry: I have the baby. And we need to go work on my thesis, which is officially due Monday!
It came about the other day when I was looking in the mirror at my belly. I was thinking about all the people who are so excited about the baby-- grandparents-to-be, our friends, other family members-- and it occurred to me that I have the baby. The baby that everyone is so excited about is with me. It felt like an honor.
Yes, folks, I think I've officially entered the second trimester, complete with LACK OF NAUSEA, a supposed "glow" (as reported by Laura), and happy, happy thoughts about the pregnancy. This video, sent to me by a friend, made me cry. I was afraid the second trimester was a myth, but it's true! (I'm having "chicken or the egg" thoughts about the coincidence of the feeling better with the happiness. Do you feel better because you're happy, or vice versa?)
But now that I'm not IN it, I have some things to say about the morning sickness. First, we should stop calling it morning sickness. It's criminal. All of these innocent women, considering having a baby: sure, we've heard of morning sickness. We've seen the women on TV throwing up in the morning. They finish, wipe their mouths, and move on with their days. We can handle "morning sickness." I thought (when I thought about it at all, which was not very much) that I'd maybe feel a little sick sometimes, and then feel okay, and bop about my merry way for the first few months until I started to show and plan baby showers.
To all of my non-mother friends out there, who might one day be pregnant, this is important: The Pregnancy Starts To Change Your Life Immediately. If/when you become pregnant, you might be lucky and not feel sick, and I fervently hope that's the case, because I wouldn't wish "morning sickness" on anyone, but you might very well feel like death warmed over for up to and over 2 and a half months.
For the record, I felt TERRIBLE from about 6 weeks to about 13 and a half weeks (about last Thursday). I threw up at least once a day for about 70% of that time (actually, usually in the morning, but sometimes randomly in the afternoon). I felt simultaneously queasy and hungry for most of the day and night. A myriad of smells made me gag, including coffee and cooking garlic, both scents I usually love. Sometimes I gagged for no apparent reason, such as when I was walking down the street. I wanted to eat, but the thought of most food was revolting. Sometimes I had very bad headaches. Sometimes I was so tired I literally thought I would not be able to get up off the Metro to change trains. I imagined just sitting there on the Red Line all day, going back and forth between Glenmont and Shady Grove, till someone kicked me off. There were good days, days when I gardened or did something fun with Dean or a friend, and good hours even on bad days, but for the most part, I felt awful.
I was also worried. I was worried about the baby, because other that the (many) pregnancy tests I took, I had no other sign besides the sickness that I was pregnant till about 10 weeks, when I heard the heartbeat. I wondered if it was okay, if I had somehow hurt it before I knew I was pregnant, if it was getting enough nutrients. I worried about not doing a good enough job on teaching when I was so distracted by feeling bad. I worried about not writing enough. I worried that we had ruined our lives, and spent almost every Friday night sobbing on the couch in exhaustion. (It was a lot of fun for Dean.)
I know, those last 2 paragraphs are a real downer. But I really, really want to record how I felt, because I am quickly forgetting, and it was real. I think what happens is, for women who do feel sick or sicker than I did, that once you get over it, you're so incredibly HAPPY. And it doesn't seem to matter anymore. Maybe it doesn't matter, but it still happened, and I want to record it. I think the first trimester of pregnancy doesn't get enough attention. But it's an extremely important time for the baby, and it can, in my experience, be a very difficult time for the mother. It's a lonely time. You might not be sharing your pregnancy with many people yet, no one can SEE that you're pregnant, and for the most part, no one can see how you feel. You're adjusting to the idea of being a mother. If you're like me, you have a very wonderful partner to make you grits and eggs when you're starving but the refrigerator smells make you gag, but even if you're that lucky (and some women aren't, like a certain single mother I know, who deserves a medal), even your partner doesn't really know how you feel, and can't do much else to help. I just think we should better acknowledge that the first trimester can be a difficult time, even if you're thrilled to be pregnant. I don't know if reading something like I've just written would have made me better prepared for the first part of pregnancy, but it might have.
And I'm not saying I would have postponed the pregnancy had I known all this. I might have, considering that I ended up spending a lot of prime writing hours huddled on the couch under a big brown blanket. But I don't think I would have. And I'm not saying, either, that it totally sucked and nothing good came out of it. The nausea DID totally suck, but at the same time, I learned a lot about myself. I learned that I can make a gag sound like a sneeze. I learned that I can do a LOT even when I don't feel good. For the most part, I managed to teach, keep up with grading, meet with my adviser, volunteer once a week, and do my usual household stuff even through the tiredness and queasiness. I even wrote a new poem. On the other hand, I also learned what can be let go of when necessary--I can skip vacuuming, get a sub for Street Sense, cancel a class if I have to, let the writing go. It will be there when I get back. I think these are going to be very important lessons for the future, such as, perhaps, the third trimester, which gets mixed reviews, or the time right after the baby is born, which I am terrified about, or, oh, say, THE REST OF MY LIFE, in which I will have a child to take care of.
Anyway--and anyone who's read the blog since I started it, or read this far in this post for that matter, is probably glad to hear this-- I don't expect to write or think about "morning sickness" much anymore, and I am very, very glad to be rid of it. But it was important to me to record a reflection on the last few months.
Now, I am very much looking forward to the fun things about pregnancy, such as planning a shower, finding out if the baby's a boy or a girl, picking out a name, arranging a nursery (or turning the hallway into a nursery), and walking around with a smug "I'm pregnant and blissful" expression. And it's spring! My favorite season. I love the warmth.
In the meantime, don't worry: I have the baby. And we need to go work on my thesis, which is officially due Monday!
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Are you expecting?
That's what the woman who cut my hair said to me on Tuesday as I was paying.
"Yes!"I replied.
Then she said something like, "no wonder." She sort of murmured it and I am not sure what she meant. I was kind of nauseous during the haircut (shocking, I know) because I had just eaten and taken prenatal vitamins, and it got kind of hot under the cape as she dried my hair, so maybe she meant, "no wonder you looked so miserable during the haircut." Or maybe she meant, "no wonder you look a little fat under your t-shirt." In any case, I think it's a little dangerous for strangers to be asking me if I am expecting at this point in the pregnancy, but since I AM, I found it very exciting.
Then she said she though it was a boy. So, that's one vote for boy. My mom and Luli, my mother-in-law, think it's a girl. So girl is winning. (Feel free to cast your own vote in the "comments" box.)
Here are a few other thoughts/moments from the past few days.
*In case you are wondering if my morning sickness is gone, NO, it is not. I actually feel pretty good right now, but I've had several yucky days in the past week. It is really wearing me down. I'm so tired of it I can't even complain about it anymore. I hope it goes away soon.
*I am a slow-moving vehicle. When I was walking to Union Station yesterday, people who had started out 2 blocks behind me passed me halfway there. Then when I got off the train in College Park, I was plodding along the sidewalk, eating a chocolate croissant, and this crazy runner in a Marines t-shirt sprinted past. Then he sprinted past again, going back where he'd come from. Then past again the first way. He did this 4 or 5 times , for about the length of 2 blocks, in the time I took me to walk about 3/4 of the block. As I finally turned the corner, he stopped to rest, huffing and puffing, watching me wipe the chocolate off my face.(I was really tired yesterday. Still.)
*Through an interesting chain of events, my dear friend Meg has secured a crib voucher for me to get a new crib. So, I can officially check "crib" off of my (currently non-existent) list of baby things we need. That's a big one! (Thank you Meg!)
*I wore my maternity pants for the first time yesterday. They are green cargo pants. They are much more comfortable than my other pants--I can still button them, but they get uncomfortable by the end of the day, and make angry-tight-pants marks on my stomach. Maternity pants have an unbelievable large belly panel.
"Yes!"I replied.
Then she said something like, "no wonder." She sort of murmured it and I am not sure what she meant. I was kind of nauseous during the haircut (shocking, I know) because I had just eaten and taken prenatal vitamins, and it got kind of hot under the cape as she dried my hair, so maybe she meant, "no wonder you looked so miserable during the haircut." Or maybe she meant, "no wonder you look a little fat under your t-shirt." In any case, I think it's a little dangerous for strangers to be asking me if I am expecting at this point in the pregnancy, but since I AM, I found it very exciting.
Then she said she though it was a boy. So, that's one vote for boy. My mom and Luli, my mother-in-law, think it's a girl. So girl is winning. (Feel free to cast your own vote in the "comments" box.)
Here are a few other thoughts/moments from the past few days.
*In case you are wondering if my morning sickness is gone, NO, it is not. I actually feel pretty good right now, but I've had several yucky days in the past week. It is really wearing me down. I'm so tired of it I can't even complain about it anymore. I hope it goes away soon.
*I am a slow-moving vehicle. When I was walking to Union Station yesterday, people who had started out 2 blocks behind me passed me halfway there. Then when I got off the train in College Park, I was plodding along the sidewalk, eating a chocolate croissant, and this crazy runner in a Marines t-shirt sprinted past. Then he sprinted past again, going back where he'd come from. Then past again the first way. He did this 4 or 5 times , for about the length of 2 blocks, in the time I took me to walk about 3/4 of the block. As I finally turned the corner, he stopped to rest, huffing and puffing, watching me wipe the chocolate off my face.(I was really tired yesterday. Still.)
*Through an interesting chain of events, my dear friend Meg has secured a crib voucher for me to get a new crib. So, I can officially check "crib" off of my (currently non-existent) list of baby things we need. That's a big one! (Thank you Meg!)
*I wore my maternity pants for the first time yesterday. They are green cargo pants. They are much more comfortable than my other pants--I can still button them, but they get uncomfortable by the end of the day, and make angry-tight-pants marks on my stomach. Maternity pants have an unbelievable large belly panel.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Another Post About Morning Sickness
First, a few things I've learned due to my "Pregnancy Nausea and Vomiting:"
1. How to spell "nausea." (All the vowels confuse me. I still can't spell "nauseous" without looking it up.)
2. That it is possible to vomit in the sink the entire 60 seconds my Whole Foods latke is heating in the microwave, and immediately after the beep, rinse my mouth and sit down to eat the whole thing, garnished with sour cream.
3. That I can go back to sleep within 15 minutes of eating a 3:45 AM bowl of cereal.
More interesting, though, (to me anyway) is my own personal list of ways to cope. It's quite possible that this list will help absolutely no one else, since what may help one person is likely to totally gross out another person. Still, I want a record, because I hope to forget all of this very soon.
1. Eat many times a day, in small amounts. (Yes, this tip is on many other lists.)
2. Put lemon slices or a dollop of lemonade in drinking water. This came up because the smell of the refrigerator was disgusting me, and the water tasted like the refrigerator smelled. (We use Britta pitchers. I have since figured out that the smell is cold apples.) The lemon pleasantly flavors the water, allowing me get closer to the 64-ounce per day goal. (I don't think I've ever actually reached the goal though.)
3. Having something beside the bed to eat in the middle of the night, or the every-two-hours I have to get up to pee, is helpful. I started with crackers and rice cakes, but these are dry and crunchy, so they take a long time to chew and swallow, and they result in many crumbs. So I switched to strawberries, which are excellent.
4. Watermelon is also helpful. Fruit in general has been a good bet, except for the few weeks that anything sweet made me sick.
5. Lemon drops, peppermint, and ginger candy.
6. Eating heavier foods soon after getting up seems to help in refilling the empty stomach that results from sleeping. I like the aforementioned latkes and tapioca pudding, as well as biscuits with grape jelly.
7. Any type of breakfast buffet is great. Also, a few nights when nothing seemed tolerable for dinner, we went out or ordered takeout. It seemed to help not to have to think too much about what I was going to eat or to have to smell it as it was cooked.
That's all I can think of for now.
Finally, a theory: I was thinking the other night about what purpose morning sickness served, and my theory is that it requires you to fundamentally change your routine from early on in your pregnancy, perhaps in ways that foreshadow the changes that are to come due to the actual baby being born. For example, as someone who loves sleeping, perhaps it is good for me to realize NOW that I can get up in the wee hours to care for myself, and technically also the baby, and the world will not fall apart: eventually I will feel better and go back to sleep, and still be able to function the next day.
I don't know, just an idea. Perhaps other mothers have some thoughts. (Yikes, I just implicitly referred to myself as a mother!)
A few good things to come this week: it's spring break! And on Friday, I go to the doctor again, and we get to hear the baby's heartbeat. (I haven't heard it yet.) The following week, I have my first ultrasound.
1. How to spell "nausea." (All the vowels confuse me. I still can't spell "nauseous" without looking it up.)
2. That it is possible to vomit in the sink the entire 60 seconds my Whole Foods latke is heating in the microwave, and immediately after the beep, rinse my mouth and sit down to eat the whole thing, garnished with sour cream.
3. That I can go back to sleep within 15 minutes of eating a 3:45 AM bowl of cereal.
More interesting, though, (to me anyway) is my own personal list of ways to cope. It's quite possible that this list will help absolutely no one else, since what may help one person is likely to totally gross out another person. Still, I want a record, because I hope to forget all of this very soon.
1. Eat many times a day, in small amounts. (Yes, this tip is on many other lists.)
2. Put lemon slices or a dollop of lemonade in drinking water. This came up because the smell of the refrigerator was disgusting me, and the water tasted like the refrigerator smelled. (We use Britta pitchers. I have since figured out that the smell is cold apples.) The lemon pleasantly flavors the water, allowing me get closer to the 64-ounce per day goal. (I don't think I've ever actually reached the goal though.)
3. Having something beside the bed to eat in the middle of the night, or the every-two-hours I have to get up to pee, is helpful. I started with crackers and rice cakes, but these are dry and crunchy, so they take a long time to chew and swallow, and they result in many crumbs. So I switched to strawberries, which are excellent.
4. Watermelon is also helpful. Fruit in general has been a good bet, except for the few weeks that anything sweet made me sick.
5. Lemon drops, peppermint, and ginger candy.
6. Eating heavier foods soon after getting up seems to help in refilling the empty stomach that results from sleeping. I like the aforementioned latkes and tapioca pudding, as well as biscuits with grape jelly.
7. Any type of breakfast buffet is great. Also, a few nights when nothing seemed tolerable for dinner, we went out or ordered takeout. It seemed to help not to have to think too much about what I was going to eat or to have to smell it as it was cooked.
That's all I can think of for now.
Finally, a theory: I was thinking the other night about what purpose morning sickness served, and my theory is that it requires you to fundamentally change your routine from early on in your pregnancy, perhaps in ways that foreshadow the changes that are to come due to the actual baby being born. For example, as someone who loves sleeping, perhaps it is good for me to realize NOW that I can get up in the wee hours to care for myself, and technically also the baby, and the world will not fall apart: eventually I will feel better and go back to sleep, and still be able to function the next day.
I don't know, just an idea. Perhaps other mothers have some thoughts. (Yikes, I just implicitly referred to myself as a mother!)
A few good things to come this week: it's spring break! And on Friday, I go to the doctor again, and we get to hear the baby's heartbeat. (I haven't heard it yet.) The following week, I have my first ultrasound.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Week Ten
Not much to report, really, just more of the same nausea, except maybe even worse yesterday and today. My grandmother died last Thursday, so Dean and I drove down to NC on Saturday and came back yesterday. Last night I thought maybe the getting worse had to do with the long drive (8 hours) and the general stress of the funeral.
My grandmother had Alzheimer's and had been sick for a long time, so the family was somewhat expecting her death. Everyone is relieved that she is not suffering anymore, but still very sad. Yesterday afternoon after coming home and throwing up the tiny amount of food in my stomach and being hungry, I cried because the only food I could think of what wasn't totally disgusting was food my grandmother made. If I could just go sit at her table and eat what she put in front of me, I think I'd feel better. Of course that was impossible even before she died because she hasn't been able to walk much, or move around a kitchen and make a huge meal.
Still, I have such vivid memories of those meals, the table packed with food. Chicken and dumplings, biscuits, gravy, potatoes, beans, tomatoes and cucumbers peeled and salted... She also made fabulous spaghetti and meatballs. And delicious French toast, so crispy around the edges. It's remarkable that it does not disgust me in the least to think of any of these foods, even though the mere thought of literally every single other food makes me gag.
I'm sad she's gone.
My grandmother had Alzheimer's and had been sick for a long time, so the family was somewhat expecting her death. Everyone is relieved that she is not suffering anymore, but still very sad. Yesterday afternoon after coming home and throwing up the tiny amount of food in my stomach and being hungry, I cried because the only food I could think of what wasn't totally disgusting was food my grandmother made. If I could just go sit at her table and eat what she put in front of me, I think I'd feel better. Of course that was impossible even before she died because she hasn't been able to walk much, or move around a kitchen and make a huge meal.
Still, I have such vivid memories of those meals, the table packed with food. Chicken and dumplings, biscuits, gravy, potatoes, beans, tomatoes and cucumbers peeled and salted... She also made fabulous spaghetti and meatballs. And delicious French toast, so crispy around the edges. It's remarkable that it does not disgust me in the least to think of any of these foods, even though the mere thought of literally every single other food makes me gag.
I'm sad she's gone.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Question Air Returns
I am blogging again, for now at least...
I am pregnant (!) (see cute little pregnancy countdown ticker to the right), and I always thought that when I was pregnant I would want a baby blog like my friends Liz and Debra. I tried starting two new baby blogs, but I didn't like them, and finally I thought, I'll just use my old blog. I've made one big change: I'm no longer posting anonymously, as part of the point of the blog now is to keep my friends and family updated on my growing family (which, despite what you may think by the end of this post, I AM very excited about).
I am also excited to blog again, and am trying to have realistic expectations. It'd be nice if I could post every week, and that's my goal, but we'll see what happens. I am currently finishing my MFA thesis--it's due, in stages, beginning in less than two weeks-- and teaching, and spending a lot of time dealing with morning sickness, which in my case comes and goes all day in the form of extreme hunger combined with random gagging and an aversion to thinking about food.
I've found a way to deal with it in the mornings, which are in fact the worst times. I eat about a third of a rice cake in bed, get up and use a nasal rinse for the constant runny nose I am dealing with, go downstairs, make tea, and sit on the couch sipping tea and eating water crackers until I get so hungry I have to eat again. I usually eat grits. I have been craving heavy foods related to my childhood, such as gravy and biscuits and sausage biscuits with grape jelly. I have the feeling if I was just able to go back in time and sit down at my grandmother's house for Sunday dinner, I would feel better.
After I get enough food in me, I am okay for most of the rest of the day as long as I eat a lot of small meals. It's just tiring to be so obsessed with eating when, more often than not, considering the options of food choices makes me gag.
By the way, the fact that I am so hungry makes me terrified I am having twins.
Dean was asking if there is any evolutionary purpose to all this nausea. Aside from maybe being your body's way of making sure you don't eat anything poisonous, I don't know. I am starting to think, though, that it's nature's way of showing you from the pregnancy's beginning that really, you're just not totally in charge of your life anymore.
I was reading up on morning sickness, also called NVP ("Nausea and Vomiting in Pregnancy), and something stood out in one article about lack of treatment: "Women feel isolated, lonely, and depressed." I have found this to be true, not so much when I'm at home, where Dean is being very kind and helpful, but when I'm out in the world. I haven't told anyone at school about the pregnancy yet, so no one understands why I look terrible and am constantly leaving a trail of Saltine crumbs in my wake. Also, in my visions of being pregnant out in the world, I had a cute belly and a rosy glow and everyone smiled at me and asked kind questions. In the reality of almost-nine-weeks, I'm alternately gagging and sneaking illegal apple slices on the Metro. No one but me knows yet that my jeans are too tight around my waist. Anyone who does notice anything going on with me is more likely to switch to a seat farther away than to smile and ask, "How far along are you?"
I assume this is only the first of many hard truths I will discover, which has been making me suspect that we didn't quite think this through?--
but this has gone on quite a while, so I think I'll stop now and save the rest for a new post.
I am pregnant (!) (see cute little pregnancy countdown ticker to the right), and I always thought that when I was pregnant I would want a baby blog like my friends Liz and Debra. I tried starting two new baby blogs, but I didn't like them, and finally I thought, I'll just use my old blog. I've made one big change: I'm no longer posting anonymously, as part of the point of the blog now is to keep my friends and family updated on my growing family (which, despite what you may think by the end of this post, I AM very excited about).
I am also excited to blog again, and am trying to have realistic expectations. It'd be nice if I could post every week, and that's my goal, but we'll see what happens. I am currently finishing my MFA thesis--it's due, in stages, beginning in less than two weeks-- and teaching, and spending a lot of time dealing with morning sickness, which in my case comes and goes all day in the form of extreme hunger combined with random gagging and an aversion to thinking about food.
I've found a way to deal with it in the mornings, which are in fact the worst times. I eat about a third of a rice cake in bed, get up and use a nasal rinse for the constant runny nose I am dealing with, go downstairs, make tea, and sit on the couch sipping tea and eating water crackers until I get so hungry I have to eat again. I usually eat grits. I have been craving heavy foods related to my childhood, such as gravy and biscuits and sausage biscuits with grape jelly. I have the feeling if I was just able to go back in time and sit down at my grandmother's house for Sunday dinner, I would feel better.
After I get enough food in me, I am okay for most of the rest of the day as long as I eat a lot of small meals. It's just tiring to be so obsessed with eating when, more often than not, considering the options of food choices makes me gag.
By the way, the fact that I am so hungry makes me terrified I am having twins.
Dean was asking if there is any evolutionary purpose to all this nausea. Aside from maybe being your body's way of making sure you don't eat anything poisonous, I don't know. I am starting to think, though, that it's nature's way of showing you from the pregnancy's beginning that really, you're just not totally in charge of your life anymore.
I was reading up on morning sickness, also called NVP ("Nausea and Vomiting in Pregnancy), and something stood out in one article about lack of treatment: "Women feel isolated, lonely, and depressed." I have found this to be true, not so much when I'm at home, where Dean is being very kind and helpful, but when I'm out in the world. I haven't told anyone at school about the pregnancy yet, so no one understands why I look terrible and am constantly leaving a trail of Saltine crumbs in my wake. Also, in my visions of being pregnant out in the world, I had a cute belly and a rosy glow and everyone smiled at me and asked kind questions. In the reality of almost-nine-weeks, I'm alternately gagging and sneaking illegal apple slices on the Metro. No one but me knows yet that my jeans are too tight around my waist. Anyone who does notice anything going on with me is more likely to switch to a seat farther away than to smile and ask, "How far along are you?"
I assume this is only the first of many hard truths I will discover, which has been making me suspect that we didn't quite think this through?--
but this has gone on quite a while, so I think I'll stop now and save the rest for a new post.
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