600 Yards

Swim a length. Pause.

Hmmm. OK, why did that suck? My hips are still sinking.

Swim another length. Pause.

OK, why did that suck? When I focus on my body position I forget to rotate.

Swim another length. Pause.

And why did that suck? Because you forgot to breathe you moron.

Swim another length. Pause.

Uuum... have you forgotten about your elbows? And your left hand is starting to cross over again.

Swim another length. Pause.

And so it went. For 600 yards. Making major changes to my stroke after 6 months off definitely feels like starting from scratch, but it will totally be worth it.

Someday I might even work back up to swimming more than a length at a time : )

From April 29th

(Last private post before announcing pregnancy)

Felt the best I have in a long time. Only got sick once, managed to eat some actual food, and even managed to walk the dogs around the block... twice!!

(Granted, there was a 3 hour nap between the first walking around the block and the second walking around the block, but you've gotta start somewhere, right? And for the record, our 'block' is about .6 mile around)

On the second walk I soaked in the sun and breathed deeply in spite of the pollen-laden air. My tummy was relatively quiet for the moment and it felt GREAT to be outside.

Had the idle thought that if I feel this good about walking 1.2 miles today, however slowly and separately, maybe that sprint in 8 weeks isn't such a crazy idea after all...

Then it hit me: Am I freaking INSANE?! I've been so sick for 5 weeks a stroll around the block is a major accomplishment, and I'm still blindly thinking I'm going to do that race in 8 weeks?!

But the thing is, I still really want to give it a shot...

From April 28th

This was my Saturday:

Wake up 10:30. Eat cereal and actually keep it down. Watch Dr. Who.

Take a nap at noon. Sleep more or less solidly until 5:30.

Shower. Nibble on pretzels and nurse a Coke (my recently discovered magic bullet for the upset tummy) while watching Firefly with friends - first social interaction in a month. Eat a cautious few bites of cheese pizza for "dinner."

Asleep by 11:00.

I had a few close calls, but never actually got sick. And had enough energy to stay awake for two TV shows in a row - big improvement.

From April 24th

(In Which I Relish the Irony)

Now I can't even keep down the Compazine. You know - the stuff that's supposed to make me stop throwing up.

In fact, haven't kept anything down - not even water - in about 19 hours. Doctor's making me come in right now, they're concerned about dehydration.

***UPDATE***
My midwife wasn't available so I ended up seeing the regular doctor. They said I'm not dehydrated YET... but still talked about things like potential hospitalization and possibly using a home IV fluid nursing service to avoid the hospital if I continue in this direction.

He wrote me a scrip for another kind of anti-emetic. Let's see how THIS one does.

From April 19th

(In Which I Caught a Small Break)

Hallelujah!

The Compazine seems to be working! I don't feel too queasy, I can eat and I don't get it back in an hour. Still have food aversions, but at least the things I can eat seem to stay down.

From Apil 18th

(In Which I Broke Down and Called My Doctor Crying)

With the exception of venting my frustrations into my blog, I've been trying to do a grin-and-bear-it thing through this whole mess. Honestly, I figured this was just what you had to deal with when you were pregnant, and since I wanted to be pregnant I asked for it. But after being unable to keep more than a couple hundred calories down for a couple days I finally called my midwife sobbing.

I've lost 11 pounds in 4 weeks. The Calorie Nazi is freaking out at me and keeps insisting I need to eat more (DUH). I JUST CAN'T HELP IT. I'm so scared the baby won't be ok. How can it be, if I can't even keep down water?

My midwife laughed while I cried and reassured me that at this point in the pregnancy she's not too concerned about the weight loss, especially since I still have plenty extra. But she agreed that the fact I haven't been able to leave the house in 4 weeks is unacceptable and prescribed something for the nausea.

Let's hope this works. It would be nice to drink water again.

From April 17

(In Which I Felt Beyond Helpless)

Today was quite possibly the worst day of my life.

I woke up and immediately knew something was wrong - like I'd acquired a full-blown sinus infection overnight.

'Cause today, the tree pollen hit. Nothing like checking weather.com and seeing a code orange, 'extremely high' pollen warning for your area.

I'd been warned that pregnancy can exacerbate allergies. I was trying not to think about it because mine are bad enough as it is. Today I learned just how bad it can get.

Nausea & vomiting from the baby all day anyway, plus waking up with a pounding headache, stuffy head, sinus pressure, painfully scratchy throat, runny nose, sneezing, itchy eyes, and sinuses draining badly enough that generally causes vomiting on its own. Oh, and feverish and alternating sweats and chills.

Every minute. All day long.

I can't take any of my regular allergy medications because they're not allowed for pregnancy. I did what I could within what's allowed, but everything I tried barely took the edge off.

At about 10 pm, getting sick yet again (I lost count how many times by then), I finally lost it and broke down sobbing. I'd cry and then get sick again and then cry some more. My poor husband (who was also suffering badly from the tree pollen because his allergy refill hasn't come in yet) could only watch helplessly. It was horrible.

I can't even say I'm taking this one day at a time any more. I'm forced to take it hour by hour, and sometimes minute by minute.

I can barely work. I'm behind on several projects and stalling the launch of a couple more. I haven't been able to bill for anything in weeks and I'm broke. I'm terrified that if this keeps up any longer I'm going to ruin us financially. The backup plan for if my business didn't make enough money has always been for me to return to work, but if the reason the business is failing is that I'm too sick to work... there you go.

I'm only at 8 1/2 weeks. I have no idea how I'm going to make it through this.

Tomorrow's pollen forecast is just as bad, so I can expect more of the same.

Kitty Crisis Part 2: Worst Case Scenario

The shiny new vet who graduated all of 5 months ago looked at her mouth and said she needed a dental. In theory that made sense because her symptoms often add up to a dental infection... but I had my doubts because upon close inspection, her teeth and gums don't look all that bad.

But, I figured a dental was as good a place as any to start, and we agreed to pull a blood panel to make sure she could handle the anesthesia. Then she took her back for Dr. L (the one who would perform the dental, and whom I've known for 10 years) to take a peek at for his assessment before putting her on the dental schedule.

Dr. L came back in with sweet young doctor in tow, looking grave. He held Sienna so I could examine her jaw, and then under her tongue so I could see and feel what he did. And I knew.

He said "I'm not the type of doctor who tells you to put your cat down, but..."

A tumor has invaded her entire jaw. It's why I thought her mouth looked puffy - it's grown enough to make the bottom of her chin stick out. It's either a squamous cell carcinoma or a fibrosarcoma. Either way, the cancer has advanced enough that she's already lost 30% of her body weight and is why she's refusing to eat.

Our options are extremely limited and would likely be useless against these aggressive cancers anyway: major surgery (jaw removal), radiation and chemotherapy. Incredibly expensive and challenging. Add a skittish, impossible to handle cat into the mix and you get an impossible situation.

We went ahead and pulled blood for a panel. What it will tell us is if she's even healthy enough to handle the anesthesia necessary to get a biopsy, which, since we're already in agreement she's essentially untreatable, would basically just tell us what kind of cancer is killing our sweet little cat.

Since she's already not acting like herself, refusing food and losing weight rapidly we can safely assume her quality of life has deteriorated along with her appearance. They gave her a steroid injection today to make her feel a little better for a day or two while we figure things out. Honestly, all that's really left to do is schedule the euthanasia. I can't bear to let her starve to death, which seems to be where she's headed otherwise.

***Update***

I just spoke with Dr. R, a dear friend and a vet I used to work for back in my tech days. She completely agreed with Dr. L's assessment, adding a detail he didn't - that these tumors can also be quite painful. She completely supports the decision to let her go and gently let me know this was a case that warranted making the choice sooner rather than later. I made the appointment for tomorrow.

Kitty Crisis

I love all my animals. Even the quirky kitty who's so scared of the whole world I still can't pick her up... after 10 years of patient, devoted care. Especially her - because who knows what happened in her fragile little life before some monster tied her up in a bag with a little of newborns and dumped her? I'm just happy she can love me as much as she does considering her former life.

Sienna is the sweetest little thing and I do my best to take good care of her in spite of her reluctance to interact with humans. She's roughly 12 now (we'll never know for sure), but until recently her age really hadn't seemed to be catching up with her. And because she seemed to be the healthiest of my 6 pets and won't grace me with her presence on any sort of regular basis, I'm ashamed to admit I'm not sure how long her current problem has been going on.

In the last 18 months I've lost a dog to cancer, had another dog need surgery for a malignant tumor, adopted a monster puppy, had a cat go diabetic and wound up in the midst of a nightmare pregnancy. Somewhere in there I did notice a pea-sized lump on her hip and had it checked out, and thankfully it came back clear. But I still feel horribly guilty for not keeping better track of her.

Very recently (within the last month) I noticed she was losing weight. I also noticed she wasn't showing up for mealtimes with her accustomed regularity. I watched her appearance the best I could, hoping it was due to the new, lower-calorie cat food we were using for the diabetic cat. But maybe a week ago I noticed her face looked odd - sort of puffy around the mouth. Then I noticed her tongue sticking out. Last night - after panicking all day that I hadn't seen her in 24 hours - she finally let me glimpse her for maybe 2.7 seconds and I noticed she was drooling.

Finding her and catching her this morning involved a step stool, a broom and a tall husband fishing around in the rafters. Cause that's my cat for ya. We're on the way to the vet now. She's even thinner than she was a few days ago, her cries are weak, her protests are being crated non-existent, and she's drooling uncontrollably.

I feel like a terrible kitty mom. It should never have gone this far. I know enough to know what can happen to a cat that's lost weight rapidly. Now I can only hope that her liver isn't impacted and that we're just dealing with dental surgery.

You've Got to be Kidding Me

So, we always DVR American Idol so we can fast forward through the filler. Same tonight. This technique has saved me many useful over the last couple seasons.

I started watching the recording around 8. To my pleasant surprise, instead of the usual plethora of cheesy filler there was quite a bit of pretty darn good music and I watched nearly everything. A little before 9 I thought about switching over to the live broadcast to catch the winner, but decided it would be like cheating, so I'd go ahead and watch it on the recording.

The show ran over. My DVR CUT THE RECORDING RIGHT AS RYAN WAS ABOUT TO NAME THE WINNER.

That was about 15 minutes ago - I've been scouring the internet ever since, trying to figure out WHO THE HELL WON.

I'm so pissed off I can't stand it. I haven't missed on minute of Idol all year... and now their stupid live broadcast running late made me miss the only stinkin' minute that actually mattered.

From April 13

(In Which I Ponder a Brief Respite)

I felt funny this morning when I woke up. It took me a minute to figure out why - it was the first day in nearly two weeks I didn't wake up instantly aware of something wrong with my stomach.

Then I pondered that for a while. It's fundamentally wrong to even be aware of certain things in the first place. Like your stomach. If you're aware of it, like 'what's going on here' aware if it, it's probably not good.

I've been aware of my stomach, in the worst possible sense, every minute of every day, for about two weeks now. It's not an entirely new sensation - I spent years battling very painful GERD that still flares up from time to time. But it is an extremely unpleasant one, especially since the spaces in between the bouts of nausea and vomiting have been, starting a couple days ago, filled with bouts of gut-churning, throat-searing heartburn.

So yeah. Woke up this morning feeling almost normal, and for 10 glorious minutes I even contemplated getting up and going to yoga. Then the heartburn kicked in. By the time I got that under control and managed to choke down some dry cereal and watered-down juice the nausea kicked in, and not long after that I was back in the bathroom heaving, crying and shaking.

*SIGH*

This better be worth it.

Does Gingko Help Muscle Memory Too?

Even after a wretched morning (migraine and vomiting) I did make it to the gym to fulfill my plans, and in general it felt great to be moving again.

Today was my first unsupervised swim since the injury; my orders were to take it easy and work on the techniques we talked about Friday.

I'm definitely in the wonky forming-new-muscle-memory stage of things. I feel like a big goof, and if I lose concentration for even a second everything goes to hell in a handbasket.

But when it's working, man do I feel fast! Definite motivation to push through this awkward stage and force some new technique into my poor swimming muscles that have been so neglected they basically forgot how to do everything.

Oh, and I got totally winded after TWO LAPS. Before all this started I could do 30 without too much trouble, 45 with some effort and 60 if I worked at it. All I can do is laugh about it and hope for more breaks in the morning sickness so I can keep getting back in there to make it better.

So Totally Trainin

OMG, so, the plan for tomorrow is: I'm going to the gym.

How cool is that?

I'm going to... *GASP* ... walk on a treadmill. For, like, 20 minutes.

Then... omgIcan'tstandit... I'm going to swim. I might even go 300 WHOLE YARDS.

Can you believe it? It's like, the coolest EVAH. I'm SO ROCKIN OUT wit dis here trainin.

From April 12th

(In which I was getting ready for bed at the end of a horribly bad day, when I'd been very, very sick and couldn't get or keep down much of anything)

Me (brushing teeth, noting pink swirl down drain): That's Just Fucking GREAT!

Wonderful Husband: What?

Me: I'm miserable enough as it is, I've got every single pregnancy symptom except ONE!! And now here it is...

WH: What?

Me: Bleeding gums.

WH: I'm sorry sweetie. That really sucks.

Pause.

Me: *blink* *blink*

Me: Hmmm. Oh. Maybe it's from the strawberry jello....

Back in the Water

The physical therapy/swim coaching session yesterday went incredibly well.

First, I have to say that every single thing she said I did right was something Swim Coach Marcy taught me, so I have her to thank for having a LOT less work to do.

Swim Coach Dana really honed in on the details of my technique and I was amazed at what a big difference the relatively small changes (and one kind of big one) made. Even though I still feel awkward because I have to think hard about the new way of doing things, I already feel more efficient in the water.

The best part is that my shoulder barely bothered me at all. I was able to work for 45 minutes before I got so noticeably tired we decided to quit. 45 minutes seemed pathetic at first, but then I thought about 2 months of sick pregnancy and 6 months not swimming.... and I decided it wasn't so bad.

The real decision point was going to come this weekend, when my shoulder told us how it felt about all this. And I'm thrilled to report it hasn't made a peep!

So YAY! I'm still not allowed to swim unattended because I could still easily slip into my old habits and re-injure the shoulder, but I can deal with that for a little while. Barring an unforseen flare-up, my next coaching session is Tuesday.

Falling Apart

One of the dirty little secrets nobody tells you about pregnancy is that you're going to be in various forms of discomfort long before you go into labor.

The pregnancy hormone relaxin functions to loosen up the joints and ligaments, allowing your pelvis to open up, making delivery possible. And the bloating/swelling associated with pregnancy does other things to you.

Unfortunately, these things go to work long before delivery, and not just on your pelvis.

It impacts activities like yoga, because your joints are suddenly much more flexible and prone to injury than you realize. Every pose in an opportunity to strain or hyper-extend something.

And it makes you more prone to other injuries because the stability of things like, say, your knee joints, just isn't what it used to be.

Here's where I'm going with this:

About a week ago I woke up with serious pain and numbness in my right hand. I couldn't use it for two days - I mean my hand went from normal to 'couldn't get the cap off the toothpaste' overnight. It's faded for now, but my hand still doesn't feel quite right and I still have twinges of pain. Sudden carpal tunnel syndrome is a completely normal part of pregnancy. Woo freakin hoo.

Three days ago my patello-femoral pain kicked up something fierce in my left knee - for no apparent reason. I hadn't even gone for a walk. I've been hobbling around for two days, trying to avoid the sharp stabs of pain. PT Chris taped it for me yesterday so I at least walk without discomfort. Apparently the loosened ligaments have impacted the already not-so-great tracking/position of my patella(s), which had not given me so much as a peep since my bike fitting last spring.

My point is: it's bad enough for a normal person. But throw someone trying to maintain some semblance of exercise into the mix and you're asking for trouble. I'm not sure how I'll handle it if this keeps up - there's only so many parts I've got that can break.

In other news:

My shoulder is healing ridiculous slow. The PT is 100% convinced the tendon is torn, but between the pregnancy and the potential permanent negative impact a surgery would have on the shoulder structure, we're obviously not going there right now (probably never).

As of yesterday she said the anatomy finally feels normal (it was ugly and swollen and sticking out funny when we started). Part of the reason she's so sure there's a tear is that I still have noticeable pain when she manipulates it certain ways, which just shouldn't be there now that everything else looks and feels completely normal.

That said, she's allowing me back in the water today. I've got an appointment with a recently retired swim coach/current PT student from her office for 1:00 this afternoon to evaluate my stroke and get me to work on some drills.

From April 11

(In Which I Basically Wanted to Die)

Today was hideous.

I had an epiphany when I was dry-heaving for, oh, 17th time, because my stomach doesn't seem to understand THERE'S NOTHING LEFT. Then I got really scared, because when I finally stopped all I could do was sit in the bathroom for a long time with my whole body shaking. I couldn't control it, just like I can't control the endless dry heaves. I was cold too, but that wasn't why I was shaking.

And I was scared too, because I was alone. Wonderful Husband needed to make an appearance at a memorial thing for a dear friend who just lost her grandmother. Thankfully the person in question is one of the few who know about my situation, so he was not forced to make up some ridiculous excuse for my glaring absence.

I sat there until I stopped shaking and then I went and wrapped in a blanket to try to get warm. But then I got too warm, which makes me throw up more.

And so it goes.

This better be worth it.

Oh yeah - epiphany. Maybe it wasn't infertility. Maybe I'm not cut out for this and my body instinctively knew it. Maybe all these years my body was trying to protect me from this hellish, no-way-out, please kill me now torture.

Nothing about this is happy. Nothing about this feels like I'm going to have a sweet, wonderful, beautiful child at the end of it. Nothing feels good and nothing feels right. Overnight, my life became about sleeping and vomiting and sleeping some more, with the (new this week!) occasional migraine thrown in for good measure. And what do migraines mean? Sleeping and... you guessed it, vomiting.

From April 10th

(In Which I Try to Find Some Perspective)

I've been feeling guilty. And miserable. Completely convinced I'm a hideous, horrible person who doesn't deserve to have a baby.

But I'm starting to think this is what happens when an athlete gets pregnant. We mourn the loss of our independence, and of our fitness and our races and our PRs. We get pissed off when our doctors tell us we have to stop doing things and we get jealous when our friends keep doing them in front of us. We get crazy when faced with the fact that we'll never be able to put the same time and dedication into our training ever again.

And that's ok. Because we deserve to mourn this part of our life. And when the babies actually get here, we'll be properly happy about it. And we'll be able to handle it, having taken this time to mourn our personal sacrifice.

From April 5

(In Which I Sound Like an Ungrateful Monster)

Initially I was really excited about this because I was feeling pretty ok. But then all this nausea and vomiting kicked in, and I realized the grand optimism of the conversation my doctor and I had about continuing to exercise and maybe even do a little racing in second trimester was nothing but a pipe dream.

So I find myself wishing this hadn't happened. Well, not that it hadn't happened. Lord knows we've wanted it for years. Just that it hadn't happened YET. Like, why couldn't it have happened in, say 6 months? Right after I get back from IMWI?

I was really looking forward to doing the Crazy Legs on April 28th - now that's totally screwed. It's a RUN race and I signed up to RUN - they even have a different category for walkers. If I worked really hard this month I was going to just be able to squeeze out that 5 miles in 4 weeks, and I was going to be really proud of myself. But now that I'm not allowed to get my HR over 140, well, I'm completely screwed.

Not to mention all the puking. Right now I can't even leave the house. I can barely choke down/keep down 1000 calories a day. The idea of traveling to Madison and participating in a race in the near future is nothing short of comical.

But I can't laugh about it. I'm bitter and resentful. And that's just for a $25, 5 mile foot race.

Don't get me STARTED on how I feel about losing my half marathon in August. So far, the biggest goal of my life. One I was literally ONE WEEK into officially training for when all this started. And one that, for all my doctor's support and optimism about my other plans, she's got pretty clear feelings about. Because I'll be, oh, 6 months pregnant and it's in the heat of a Chicago August, she's not even keen on me showing up to walk it. Just not the smartest thing to do.

At least I hadn't yet registered for the Oly I wanted so bad. At least that's just a theoretical loss.

There's still my sprint in June. She's wary of my enthusiasm - well, the enthusiasm I showed last week before all the puking. I think she's concerned I wouldn't be careful enough, but I think she also wants to trust me because she's witnessed firsthand all the successful lifestyle changes I've made and how training is a routine part of my existence now. She keeps saying "IF you keep your HR low and IF you stay hydrated and IF it's not too hot then you can try it." I can live with that.

But honestly, I have no idea how I can pull it off if I keep feeling like this. This is quickly becoming the worst experience of my life. I've started losing weight rapidly because I'm not even keeping down the little bit I'm able to eat.

Seriously. Why couldn't this happen in six months? Then I'd just be HAPPY. Now all I can think about is how it ruined all my plans. And what if I lose the baby anyway? I'm only 6 weeks along and with my history the doctor's making no bones about the odds not exactly being in my favor. What if I go through all this crap and lose the baby and still have my season ruined?

It hardly seems fair.

From April 2

(In Which The Shit Hits the Fan)

This is NOT good.

The nauseous was back in full force today, and late this afternoon his good buddy vomiting showed up. Looks like Poor Wonderful Husband will be fending for himself in the kitchen tonight, I can't even look at it.

Heh. Someone brought a case of ginger ale to the party last weekend. I'll be putting that to good use.

Not Cool

I could have sworn I'd read somewhere that I could transfer my Chicago Distance Classic entry to someone if I couldn't participate, but I just went through the fine print and no transfers or deferments are allowed.

That is SERIOUSLY UNCOOL. It's not that I care that much about the money - although it sucks ass to lose the entry fee. I have a genuine medical reason why I won't be running it - 6 months pregnant plus half marathons in August heat do not a happy doctor (or athlete) make. But their policies won't even entertain the notion of letting someone else benefit from my situation.

This is the first race I've been in that didn't allow a transfer or deferment. I don't care how much race directors bitch about the extra work, if we're paying good money for a slot and have a legitimate medical reason, complete with doctor's note, why we can't use the slot we should be allowed to do something with it other than watch the money disappear.

What Friends Are For

I really wanted to get in a bike ride today, queasy or not. I needed to see how much fitness I've lost and if that race in 6 weeks is remotely feasible. Until now I've just been taking it on faith I could handle a sprint distance bike ride without violating the pregnancy HR limitations as long as I deliberately went slow. But I just couldn't find my own motivation today, and around 4:00 I curled up in a ball on the couch, resigned to defeat and contemplating a nap.

Not 5 minutes later the phone rang - it was the Best Friend asking me to go for a bike ride.

I dragged my ass off the couch, geared up and went.

In deference to my condition and the last 7 hideously sick weeks we took it very easy (9 miles in a hour), with lots of chit-chatting and checking the HR monitor. It beeped incessantly, you see, because my HR was so darn low. I maxed it out on the few inclines, but it was never more than a couple beats outside the limit (140) for more than a couple seconds before I slowed down or stopped and got it back under control. Definitely taught me I can manage the race, which is a nice flat course with maybe one or two tiny inclines.

I thought I'd go for 15 minutes and then see if we should shoot for 30. At 45 we were cruising along and I didn't want to stop, but I get that pushing it is not on the menu right now. Got home with a nice round hour under our belts.

Thanks to Bek today was not only a safe and successful workout, it improved my confidence for the race and gave me the emotional boost I needed to bike on my own in the weeks to come.

Baby Steps

Made it to yoga today. It's unbelievable how much fitness and flexibility I lost after spending 7 weeks with my head in the toilet, not to mention the two months prior to that the physical therapist banned me from it. This should have been a relaxing and enjoyable class - an easy-going lesson plan that happened to include all my favorite poses - but I found myself fighting dizzy and nauseous spells and having to sit out a lot.

But at least I went, and at least I didn't have to leave early.

I'm still quite nauseous for the majority of the latter part of every day, but I hope I'm able to keep easing back into physical activity in the mornings. It's been so hard to even contemplate working out that I'm starting to be afraid I lost 3+ years of good exercise habits in just 7 weeks.

From April 1

(In Which The Storm Clouds Roll In)

I hope this is my body's idea of a baaaaaad April Fool's joke, and not a sign of things to come: holy crap, am I nauseous.

From March 31

(In Which I First Realize It's Hard to Keep This Secret)

Had people over for a friend's birthday tonight. Plan was to make her watch Eddie Izzard and Mel Brooks so she'd get our jokes from now on. Did a 'cake or death' birthday cake and everything. Everyone loved it.

It was HARD not to tell. I mean, how often do you have a dozen or so of your friends in your living room coinciding with the discovery of such monument news? But it's WAY too soon to be telling the whole world.

The hardest part was having a bunch of people over for a party - when I'm known for tending bar and downing my fair share of Cosmopolitans - and trying to hide the fact that I'm not drinking. It's not like I want to, I've never been a huge drinker in general. It's definitely not like I miss it, or that there's anything that would make me pine for it. But my friend Gray unwittingly brought along the one thing that made it even harder to explain away the not-drinking... Pomegranate Vodka. I think he remembered I made pomegranate martinis at the Christmas party.

I've been really tired. I mean REALLY tired. Falling asleep on the couch at 8:00 tired. Normally having a dozen friends over for food and fun would be nothing - I'd spend a day making it all from scratch and enjoy watching them eat, and happily chat with people until the wee hours. But I'm so. Damn. TIRED. All I want to do is sleep, and it's putting a serious damper on my daily routine.

But I shouldn't complain about a little fatigue. It could be worse.

Sunday's Festivities

Sunday afternoon was definitely my version of heaven: a dozen or so dogs (~10 rescued German Shepherds, my mutt Sable and a Corgie), tennis balls and a beach.

Soggy family portrait.

Phoenix and Kona. Phoenix is a very sweet rescue girl who attached herself to Kona for the day.

He actually got tired enough to lay down for the ride home!

From March 28

(In Which I - Big Shocker - Freak Out About My Weight)

What the FUCK?!?!

Five POUNDS. How does one gain FIVE POUNDS IN THREE DAYS?!?!

My face is swollen. My boobs are going to need their own zip code soon. And the pants that fit a week ago, the brand spanking new ones I just finally lost enough weight to fit into, the ones I was going to wear for the first time at the party this weekend... can't even zip 'em. WTF. I've turned into the Pillsbury dough chick.

I looked EVERYWHERE for information on this. I mean, it's got to be normal to get all bloaty when you're pregnant, right? NOTHING. Not one iota of information about this. All I can find is breezy, sunshine up your ass bullshit warning to "not eat for two" and to not gain more than 3 pounds in the first trimester.

How the hell are you supposed to not do that if you're working out, counting your calories, drinking lots of water, eating your veggies... and gaining 5 POUNDS IN THREE DAYS?!?!

New Low

After a stellar weekend of feeling pretty good, eating nearly anything, being productive (we planted a tree!) and doing fun doggy family activities (it was fantastic, pix to follow)... the NVP (Nausea and Vomiting of Pregnancy, the medical term for morning sickness) reasserted itself with a vengeance.

By late Sunday, I couldn't even keep down popscicles.

By midnight I was begging the baby (oh yes, out loud) to stop torturing me and promising I wouldn't overdo it like this again. I knew I'd lost it when I realized I was trying to reason with a fetus.

Pathetic.

Where Things Are At

Today it was good to be alive. I was only a little bit queasy, not sleepy at all, got some work done, got some stuff taken care of for the baby's bathroom, and took the dogs for a 45 minute walk.

That last thing is the really important one - it's by far the longest I've been able to do anything remotely resembling physical activity in 6 weeks. And I felt faaaaantastic while I was doing it - every inch of me was itching to break into a run, but I managed to hold myself back.

Here's the thing - I've got a triathlon in about 7 weeks. And I really want to do it. REALLY really really really really want to do it.

My doctor has been super supportive - she gets this is who I am and what my body is used to doing now. She feels that as long as I use common sense, don't get overheated, stay hydrated and keep my HR within the rigid limits established for pregnant women (140, which for me means running is off limits) then it's safe for me to do the race. As long as I realize I'm not allowed to get competitive about it and actually race. Which I'm more than fine with. (OK, I wasn't at first, but it's amazing the kind of perspective you get after puking nonstop for 6 weeks.)

I freaked out pretty badly about all these new restrictions at first - some of my yet-to-be-unhidden posts will rant about that. But now I'm thrilled to think that I might actually get to do a triathlon in less than two months! Even under these restrictions, just showing up to try one thing is better than being forced to ditch my entire season.

In other news...

Had my second ultrasound yesterday. The heart beat is really strong, and the baby was kicking its feet and punching its arms around - clearly already working on swim stroke and pedal cadence. More than once it looked for all the world like the baby was waving at us. I cried like a giant dork. It was great.

After the great test results the doctor said things are perfect and reiterated her support for my plans to attempt the race in 7 weeks. I had to promise to drop out if it gets too hot or I feel funny, but I'm more than cool with that. No way am I going to endanger the baby over a stupid race. But if it works out... I can hardly wait. To share the experience with my girls, to be there for their first race, to take the baby through her (wishful thinking!) first race.... It's gonna be GREAT.

From March 26

(In Which I Narrowly Resist Committing Murder with a Clipboard)

Going to the doctor was surreal. In an 'are you fucking kidding me' kind of way.

Will someone please - PLEASE - tell the nursing staff of the world at large not to greet every woman who comes in having reported a positive home hCG test with "OMG CONGRATULATIONS!!!!" in that sickeningly saccharine way?

Because ya know what? Congratulations are not fucking in order when so far all I've done is make a pink line show up on a stick.

Some of us have histories of complex reproductive problems and miscarriages. Some of us can't believe the home test could possibly be right. Some of us have studied embryology and know all about things like molar pregnancies and completely understand a positive hCG does not necessary mean a baby is on the way. And some of us have heritable health conditions that can take a pregnancy away from us faster than you can say 'it wasn't meant to be.'

And you know what? Maybe I'm just a nutjob with a marker and too much time on their hands. Maybe I just like to go around drawing lines on pregnancy tests.

So shut the fuck up ladies. And while you're at it, how about rethinking the part where you hand me a stack of PINK FUCKING FORMS to fill out that detail things like how I'm going to handle pre-authorization for the delivery with my insurance carrier before the doctor has even confirmed that I'm actually pregnant?!

I curtailed my hormone-fueled rage and instead of using the clipboard in creative ways to kill them all, I just rolled my eyes a lot and pressed really hard with the pen while I filled them out.

But I'm forced to wonder... given the same situation, What Would Nytro Do?

Might As Well Be Stamped on My Forehead

Last two or three days I've been feeling somewhat less hideous than I have the last, oh, 6 weeks or so, in that sometimes I want to eat and more often than not I'm keeping it down.

So I stop by the store to pick up some watermelon and fresh strawberries, two of the very few things I've been able to eat.

While there, I had an uncontrollable urge for very bad things.

Things so bad, I've never, in my entire adult life, actually bought them. Things so bad I discovered after 10 minutes of searching I didn't even know where to find them.

Undaunted, I found a friendly looking store employee... "Hi. Where are the Ding Dongs and Ho Hos?"

I told Wonderful Husband about it later. His response: You might as well be wearing a name tag that says "Hi, I'm pregnant."

From March 25

(In Which Two Highly Educated Women Sound Like Surfers From the 8os)

Phone call to Best Friend: Hey, you got a test?

BF: Yeah. You late again dude?

Me: Yeah. Probably nothing as usual. But I should check, I feel funny this time.

BF: We're going out on the boat. I'll tape it to the door.

***Many Hours Later***

BF phone call to me: You take it yet?

Me: No. I haven't had to pee yet.

BF: TAKE THE TEST ALREADY!!! I'm going crazy over here!

Me: Whatever dude. How many times have we done this?

BF: TAKE IT! And CALL ME.

Me: OK, OK.


****10 minutes later****

After about 8 seconds: I'm not looking... I'm not looking... OHMYGOD. NO. That was NOT two lines. It hasn't been two minutes yet. I'm not looking....

After about 30 seconds: Holy shit.

Me to WH: HOLY SHIT. IS THAT TWO LINES?!?!

WH to me: That would be two lines.

Me on phone to BF: DUDE THERE'S TWO LINES.

BF: Holy shit dude.