Welcome to the Second Trimester

Today is the very first day of the second trimester, and I woke up wanting to have sex with my husband. There may be hope after all.

Yay, sex!

And my body said, "Fuck that noise"

So, for the past few weeks I've been eagerly anticipating the onset of the lovely second trimester. The Glow, the Energy, the Peace. Based on the events of Thursday night, I can safely say it hasn't arrived yet.

Chris and I were relaxing, watching a movie, and I was preparing to head out to a choir rehearsal. Everything was fine. I'd been migraine-free for about a week, and I was really happy about that. Looking forward to a good evening.

I made myself a can of tomato soup and a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches - perfect comfort food. Just before settling down to eat, with a bottle of water, a package of crackers, and my mealtime vitamins and supplements close at hand, I went upstairs and changed out of my pre-pregnancy jeans into more roomy, comfortable, maternity jeans. Ahhhh.

I ate my soup with plenty of crackers, devoured my sandwiches, and drank about half my bottle of water. I was happy and content. For about five minutes.

Then, very quickly, I became incredibly uncomfortable. I didn't even understand what the problem was. I switched off the dishwasher, thinking the noise was irritating me. I went outside to get some fresh air as I felt really hot all of a sudden. I finally went into our downstairs bathroom - but once I was there, I wasn't exactly sure what I needed to do there to feel better.

For the next 20 minutes, I alternated between the two classic Toilet Usage positions, as my body violently evacuated the entire contents of my innards, through any applicable orifice. Although the process was very painful and frightening, the waiting beforehand was the worst part, as I sat on the toilet and wondered what the hell was happening to me, why my abdomen was full of shooting pains, and what I was supposed to do about it. I even got a titch hysterical because I just didn't know what was wrong. Once my body started, er, emptying, I thought, "Oh, okay, *that's* the problem."

I had taken off all my clothes and was lying on the bathroom floor by the time Chris knocked on the door and asked if I was okay. I almost was, by then, though a little nervous to get too far away from the bathroom. I crawled out and sat with him for a few minutes on the cold floor - I was desperate to cool off. He opened the door to the garage so the cold air would come right in. He also brought me a bottle of water, then called my choir director to let him know I wouldn't be at rehearsal.

Although I felt better about half an hour later, I'm glad I didn't go to choir, because that process tired me the hell OUT.

Two hours later, my stomach told me it needed to eat, and after giving it a little lecture ("Oh, you want me to feed you, after what you did last time? What makes you think you deserve it?") I had some fried rice and a few pieces of cheese. Yummy.

After talking it over with Chris, I think what happened is that I had too much hot food, too fast. I hadn't felt nauseous or headachey all day, so it can't be attributed to that. But Chris suggested that both my stomach and my intenstines have less room now, as the uterus continues to grow and take up more real estate, so eating so much food - especially hot food, when I am so prone to being overheated these days - caused my system to go on full alert and just reject everything, instantly. Lesson learned.

I had hoped to make this entry amusing, which I guess I have failed to do, so I'll close with Chris's brilliant line, later in the evening:
"You should drink some more water and make sure you're hydrated. After all, you lost a buttload of fluids."

HAAAAAAAA.

Another loss.

My heart is full, and it is going out to Emily today. Emily is my favourite blogger, hands-down. I've read her journal front to back and loved all of her entries - she's one of the people who inspired me to start my own standalone blog. And a few weeks ago, after I left a message congratulating her on her pregnancy, she actually followed my comment link back here and left a message about what I was going through. My heart actually stopped for a second when I realized she'd read my words - it was like finding out Annie Lennox was in the audience after I sang the national anthem, or something. A little star-struck, I guess!

Anyway, my heart is breaking for her today as she and her family deal with the loss of her second pregnancy. There is nothing that makes that loss easier to bear, with the possible exception of knowing that people across the blogosphere are thinking of you and wishing you well. Be well, Emily, and know that we are all praying for you.

First Day of NaBloPoMo!

"Post every day in November. That's all you have to do."

It doesn't say anything about length, or more importantly, quality content, which is a great relief to me and to other bloggers, no doubt ...

So, I heard from Melissa - mother of the 2.5 pound baby - and miraculously, they are actually doing fine. It turns out Melissa has a bicornuate uterus, which means it is shaped like two horns instead of a triangle, and is a big factor in infertility. Knowing that, it's amazing she was able to carry the baby for 27 weeks - at least, according to what I could learn on Google.

At 27 weeks, her placenta abrupted, and they needed to get the baby out immediately - hence the emergency C-section. It is really reassuring to know the "why" of the whole situation, but what's even greater is that Melissa and her husband are in a really positive mood, feel that their son is not only in good health but in the very best hands, and that although they have a difficult road ahead of them in the next three months, they have no doubt that they can handle it and everything will turn out fine.

Amazing! I am so happy and so relieved for all of them.

New baby, unexpected circumstances

There is a woman in my life - I can't even quite call her a friend, as we weren't quite there yet - who needs your thoughts and prayers today.

Melissa and I have been through a lot of drama and bullshit in the past, but in the last six months or so we've started emailing again, brought together by a mutual friend and the fact that we had something in common; we'd both miscarried our first pregnancies.

Through the past few months we lay our history aside in favour of being able to share the loss and pain of a miscarriage, and the difficulties of learning to trust and try again. There was a brief blip in our correspondence when she got pregnant again and didn't know how I'd react, but after a month or so she wrote to apologize, something she'd never done throughout our previous relationship. I forgave her, and was soon able to share the news that I was expecting again as well.

We were on our way to building a friendship, and emailed every few weeks or so about what kind of pregnancy symptoms we were having, how these things affected our relationships, work, and social lives, and what kind of choices we were making for our pregnancies, our births, and our lives with a newborn. We weren't quite ready to meet in person yet, but I knew the time would come. I looked forward to the upcoming births of our babies - hers in January, mine in May - not only for the events themselves, but as a way to transition into both motherhood and a true friendship.

I just found out - through that same mutual friend - that Melissa's baby was delivered on Saturday via emergency C-section. At only 27 weeks gestation, there must have been some very dramatic reason to get the baby out so fast, and the friend, justifiably so, feels it's not his story to tell. I sent a quick email to Melissa letting her know that I was thinking of her, and now all I can do is hope she'll email back when she has a moment to spare. But with a 2.5-pound baby in preemie care, and family members across the country to fill in, I'm sure I'm low on her list.

But I can pray for her, for her husband, and for their new son. So I will, and I hope you'll do the same.