Fatigue. Fatigue has hit me so hard you guys. I know I’ve said it numerous times, but it’s not easing up or going away. I keep thinking that it’s getting better (for instance, on Saturday, after I taught my exercise class, I came home, showered, and then ran two whole errands – declared myself fatigue-free on our way to lunch – then promptly came home and crashed in a coma-like state for the afternoon). And then I have weekends like this past one and I realize that I’m pretty sure it just ebbs and flows. I’d petition the partners for a daily, office-wide naptime if I could come up with a legit reason. And that’s crazy talk right there because I don’t nap. If I’m napping, I’m very sick and you should probably send me to the doctor. At least, that’s what I always used to say. I guess I’ll need to amend that and say I’m either sick or pregnant, but you should probably still send me to the doctor.
As for other pregnancy related ailments, the best I can come up with is just feeling “off” or not quite right. I mean, I’m not actually puking or sleeping all the time, I’m just sort of lolling around on the couch all wimpy and whiny, clutching my nap pillow and blanket to myself. I’m starting to show, a tad, but in more of a potbelly way, especially once the evening bloat takes over. (As an aside, this has got to be my least favorite stop on the body changes train. I had so wished to skip over this, back when I was delusional and thought that a perfect diet and exercise regime could keep the pooch away. Le sigh.) I actually just bought some new exercise clothes because that’s one place where the pooch will be noticeable, as I usually wear pretty form-fitting clothing when I teach.
Another issue I’m having is with my stomach. Logically, I know, I know, that my uterus hasn’t grown all that much yet (I mean, it’s more than doubled in size by now, but it’s got a long way to go), but for some reason my stomach seems cramped for space. I keep trying to eat regular meals, but I always feel completely and uncomfortably stuffed afterwards. I have yet to find the right meal plan of enough food to stave off The Hunger, but not enough to induce the stuffed-Thanksgiving-turkey pains. Plus, I am burping like a high school boy and the gas buildup in my tummy is excruciating until I can finally burp. (Burping does not come naturally to me. I’m not a big burper. If I force it, I’m much more likely to accidentally force myself to puke, as learned from experience.) So that’s been fun.
My next prenatal appointment is next Friday – next Friday. Such a long time to wait. It’s officially been long enough since my last appointment that the reassurance has started to wear off and I can’t wait to go back. I want to see the heartbeat again, or possibly even hear the heartbeat by that time. I want to see our baby again, to reassure myself that everything’s going ok. I read stories on pregnancy communities about women who had seen heartbeats at 6 or 7 weeks and then had gone back at 9 or 10 to find empty wombs and it just breaks my heart. I can’t even imagine their pain and it terrifies me because I had been placing so much hope in the fact that we’ve already seen the heartbeat so surely everything will be ok. I try to not really think about that much, and I actually actively avoid those topics on the discussion boards because they don’t help. I’ll just be really happy when we can go back in and see our little blueberry* again.
*According to my app, the baby is now as big as a pecan! So big!
Luffy, bless his sweet heart, has been absolutely amazing through all of this. Even though I can never really tell him why I’m feeling bad** and even though I spend all my time curled up on the couch, he’s been a godsend. All I have to do is pause the constant stream of Hulu (Law & Order SVU marathon!) and he’s immediately asking what he can get me. Do I need something to eat? To drink? Can he bring me anything? He reminds me to get up and move around some, patiently taking me on short walks even when our pace slows to a crawl. He’s indulged my every whim and has been more than happy to let my stomach take over our meal plans. Yesterday, I was feeling particularly crappy. We were supposed to go eat lunch at his parents house (which involves at least 40 minutes in the car) and he basically told me flat out that we weren’t going because I was clearly not doing well. He made me lunch himself. He got me out of the house for a short walk in the afternoon. He went grocery shopping by himself and then he came back with a big container of pho from my favorite spot. (Pho is my ultimate comfort food. Like chicken soup, only better.) He didn’t even get anything for himself! He just came home and made me a salad (to get in some extra vegetables) then fixed up my pho and made himself dinner. I don’t know what I would do without him.
**I read a little quote in my pregnancy book that being pregnant is like being a toddler again – what with all the mood swings and crying and sleeping. It’s totally true! Even right here, in this example, I can no longer articulate what is wrong or why I’m feeling bad. I dunno, it just hurts. So really, if you think about it, I’m just helping prepare Luffy for fatherhood. You’re welcome, honey.