PrEGGnancy

I don't remember much about being pregnant.  I worked part time. I came home. I laid on the couch. I watched a ton of TV. I looked at facebook. I read pregnancy books. I skimmed every what-to-expect blog. People told me I should blog about funny pregnancy things.  But nothing was funny. I was so miserable. I honestly remember telling Trevor I was worried that I wasn't funny anymore, that I would never be funny again.  Pregnancy had ruined me. 

I think I blacked out for 9+ months except for a few moments that stuck...

I remember finding out I was pregnant.  I had just started a new job at a start-up company with 4 very accomplished and motivated older male colleagues.  And I remember thinking, this is kind of an awkward time and place to be pregnant. I was expecting the doctor to call with me the pregnancy test results.  It was getting close to the end of the day and I remember thinking, doctor's usually give bad news at the end of the day so it must be negative.  Then I realized I got a missed call from this morning.  I listened to the voicemail in the bathroom at work and was both excited but slightly anxious about being pregnant so soon after starting a new job.  I still believe doctor's wait till the end of the day to give you bad results.

I remember when and where I told Trevor.  That same day I found out that I was pregnant I biked "home" from work.  And by "home" I mean up the river.  Because we live up a gigantic hill from where I work, I bike into work with no problem. I pretty much balance on my bike seat and ride the brakes downhill the whole time; wind in my face, scarf around my neck.  But there's no way my out-of-shape wimpy little legs could get me home without having to stop and call an ambulance (I don't know if you remember that spin class fiasco?).  So instead, I tell my co-workers that I bike home and then when I am out of their view, I hop on the beautiful Delaware & Raritan canal bike path and ride the mile or so up to the parking lot at the north end of town and wait on a nice little park bench until my sweet hero of a husband picks me up and takes me home...pure luxury.  There near the park bench on the bike path at the north end of town is where I told him.

I remember when I first felt morning sickness.  It is a nausea unlike anything I have ever felt.  I did not know how to label it at first.  Sort of like the first time I had diarrhea.  I remember being in 5th grade and having to "go to the bathroom."  I went to the bathroom explosively.  I felt better.  I went back to class.  Then I had to "go to the bathroom" again.  And when I asked the teacher if I could go to the bathroom again (5 minutes after returning from the last visit) the teacher thought that I should go to the nurse instead.  I said fine, knowing the nurse had a bathroom.  And I remember SPRINTING to the nurse's office on the other side of the school.  I should have stopped at a bathroom along the way but the teacher told me to go to the nurse's office and law-abiding, Jesus-fearing me did what I was told and did not want to break the rules.  I whipped into the nurse's office bathroom and nearly shit my pants.  Thank goodness the door was open and the toilet unoccupied.  When I came out of the bathroom, the nurse asked me "so when did you start feeling sick?"  And I remember being so confused. I didn't think I was sick. I didn't think I felt sick.  I thought I just really had to go to the bathroom!  Similarly, I didn't recognize morning sickness at first.  I thought I was just anxious or worried but then realized it was physical and at one of the doctor's visits a nurse asked me if I felt morning sickness and I thought hmmm I well maybe that's what this is... and it was... all the time ... all day long... "morning" sickness.  No crackers or ginger ale or vitamin B or diclegis or acupuncture or anything ever made it go away.  Many pregnant women only have morning sickness for part of the first trimester.  Lucky me, mine got WORSE after the first trimester, and never totally went away it just turned into heart burn later, which also made me feel like puking.

I remember the first time I felt the baby kick.  I thought I was about to have a bout of diarrhea.

I remember the first time actually throwing up.  For the entire first trimester I always felt awful and miserable.  The second trimester is what everyone tells you is the "golden age" where you should go on your "babymoon" or some crap like that.  This is supposed to be the phase where you don't feel nauseous and don't yet feel like a beached whale.  So we planned to have our annual Friendsgiving party.  We had a bunch of friends over.  We cooked a gigantic turkey and everyone brought a ton of delicious food.  I decided to venture back out into the world of eating normally and had the tiniest bits of thanksgiving delicacies...and spent the rest of the night heave ho-ing in the upstairs bathroom after telling the remaining slumber party guests that I was going to bed.  I tried to brush my teeth afterwards but the taste and frothiness of the toothpaste made me want to barf again.  I texted Trevor if he could please bring me up lollipops. He did.

I remember the first time almost passing out.  I was at work.  And Trevor came to pick me up.  It was just me and my boss in the office.  The boss's office was upstairs so we went up so Trevor could say hi and bye.  We get upstairs and Trevor and my boss start talking and I realize very quickly something is wrong.  My ears start ringing.  The back of my neck starts sweating.  I am getting hot and cold. I start shifting around while standing up thinking I need to somehow make my circulation better.  Then I start seeing spots and getting tunnel vision and realize that any hope of getting out of there without publicly admitting there is a problem has diminished.  I interrupt whatever the hell they are talking about to let them know I am about to pass out.  I sit down, Trevor gets me a Vitamin water.  We sit around a bit awkwardly until I feel better.  So awkward. The only thing less awkward than passing out, is almost passing out and having to tell people about it.  I almost wished I had just gone ahead and passed out...

I remember the first time I actually passed out.  At one of my prenatal visits I asked the doctor if it is normal to feel like your heart is fluttering.  Because it kept happening.  My heart seems to be skipping beats.  It was freaking me out a little bit.  The nurse sent me for an EKG at my primary care doctors.  At the primary care doctor, they tell me I need to lay down flat on my back to get the EKG.  I tell them that I am in my third trimester and for this entire pregnancy I have been feeling like I am going to pass out and it especially happens when I lie flat on my back.  They tell me the only way they can do an EKG is flat on your back.  It will only take 30 seconds. Do I think I could lay down flat for 30 seconds?  I say I don't know I guess we can try! They say ok, please just let us know the second you feel faint.  I remember lying on my back and feeling faint immediately, but telling myself, let's count to 10, and by 5 I remember thinking, ok let's speak up.  But then darkness.... I came to with a very frightened EKG technician and a dumbfounded doctor saying  things  like "hmm  I don't know why that happened?"  I need a new doctor.    After I left the office, I got in the car and had a bit of a panic moment.  Does passing out put your fetus in danger?"  I did a quick google search and the results were inconclusive (like ALL medical google searches) so I promptly called the OB doctor.  She asked me if I had felt the baby kick since I passed out.  I said no, but I often go for periods of time without feeling the baby kick.  She said to eat a granola bar and see if the baby kicks.  I did.  She didn't.  The nurse said to go to the ER.  At the ER I explain to them that I passed out, and they tell me they need to do an EKG to check my heart.  I tell them no way, that the EKG is what made me pass out in the first place!  They tell me I can get the EKG done while sitting up... this is great information I wish I had an hour ago! CAN THE "EKG PEOPLE" TELL ALL THE DOCTORS IN THE WORLD THAT YOU CAN HAVE AND EKG DONE SITTING UP? PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

I remember having to call Trevor from the ER. Trevor, the soon-to-be first-time-dad whom I had convinced that it would be ok for him to go to a conference in Las Vegas so close to the due date and that he wouldn't miss any action, didn't pick up as his flight was still in the air somewhere over Kansas.  I remember thinking I absolutely should not leave him a voicemail saying "Hi Trevor, I am in the ER..."  So I kept calling him until his flight landed and he finally picked up.  I thought so long and hard about how to tell him what was going on, that I absolutely don't remember the strategy I actually went with... but I think it was something along the lines of staring with a casual introduction (eg, "hey how was your flight, did you meet up with Eric?") and then followed with a little... "by the way"... and of course start with "everything is fine" and then let the truth out: "but I passed out and am in the ER making sure the baby is still alive and BONUS... SHE IS!!!  See you in a few days!  Mwah!"

I remember not being able to lift my legs into bed one night.  It was the day my fishing buddy and I got our fishing licenses and went fishing while I was uber pregnant. By the end of the day whatever magic combination of walking and standing threw my pelvic bones out of whack and I could not lift my legs up.  I was at the bed side.  If I sat down on my butt and laid down on my side, I couldn't swing my legs up.  So I tried laying down face first and still couldn't get my legs up.  I had to call Trevor in to help pick my legs up into bed.  There's nothing more to that story.... If I was blogging while pregnant it would just be a whole bunch of really miserable, unfunny stories like this.

I remember the first time feeling better.  It was a weekend.  I had not stepped foot in the kitchen for like 8 months.  The smell of the fridge, the sink, the garbage, the toaster, the frying pans... ALL of it ALWAYS made me want to vomit.  I do not remember how or what I ate the entire pregnancy. But I do remember the day I finally felt better.  I decided to make breakfast.  Even Trevor  was excited when he realized I was feeling better "OoOo someone's out of bed and feels like cooking!"   I had the avocado toast almost ready.  I was mixing up the eggs.  Coffee was in the kettle. I was feeling good. No, I was feeling great!! Then I started feeling bad.  So Trevor finished up the eggs and I sat on the couch.  Our brand new couch.  Which was in front of our brand new light grey and white rug.  As Trevor finished up making breakfast I start to smell the delicious, no I mean disgusting fumes wafting my way. I start trying to suppress my urge to vomit.  I used to be pretty good at this in college!  Just sit still and breathe and tell myself: I am not going to vomit, I am not going to vomit.  It worked until it didn't.  Ok now I know there is no way out of this situation without vomiting.  Trevor is still in the other room.  I start strategizing. 

To my right is the front door.  I could throw up off the balcony.  But the front door kind of gets jammed when you open it, plus the screen door is there and the door knob for the screen door is opposite from the side of the front door knob.  I could easily get jumbled up and end up puking through the screen.  The bathroom is too far away, I would never make it.   That leaves the kitchen.  There are two options in the kitchen: the sink or the garbage can.  I have been avoiding the kitchen like the plague.  I have no idea what condition the sink is in, but based on the 15+ years I have lived with Trevor I am going to put my money on there' a bunch of shit in the sink.  Plus we don't have a garbage disposal. That would be a disgusting mess to clean up if I puke in the sink.  It would only make me puke more.    I sit and try to continue to breathe away my vomit.  I don't think I am going to make it.  If I move I am going to puke instantly. 

I try to telepathically tell Trevor to bring me the garbage can.  I close my eyes and envision Trevor bringing me the garbage can.  I pray to all the gods and yogis and guardian angels of all the religions in the universe, someone please tell Trevor to look at me and bring me a bowl or garbage can.    And then it happens.  Trevor looks at me!  He looks concerned!  He realizes there's something wrong!  He is going to save this situation... save our brand new couch, save our beautiful floral rug! Then he says "Hmm do you want the ipad or something?" Trigger... My hands fly to my mouth instantly as the puke is spraying through my fingers and in one swift motion I am off my ass faster than I have moved in months. I round the corner into the kitchen and the garbage can is full and even worse, the drawstrings are half-way tied up.  Trevor is fast on my tail, encouraging me "In the sink, sink, sink, sink!!!" But the sink is full of dirty dishes and no garbage disposal, so as I try to pry the drawstrings of the garbage bag open to cleanly puke in the bag, the second my hands move away from my mouth the puke goes all over the counter, all over the cabinets, all over the inside and outside of the garbage bag, all over the garbage can, all over the floor, and all over Trevor's shoes.  Trevor rubs my back and gives me hug and tells me to go clean myself up.  He'll take care of the kitchen.

And I never made eggs while pregnant again.

The end.