Never Want To Be Pregnant Again.

Alright, so the title to this is mostly just me complaining, but I seriously feel bulky, splotchy, in a constant state of hunger, and my child has decided that sleep is for losers. Of course, that means Mommy has to be cool too, so whenever I lie down to sleep, she freaks out until I either sit up or roll into this not-so-comfortable position in which I'm pretty much sleeping on top of Daniel. If he moves, I wake up and a cute little lady remembers that it's uncool to sleep, so we start this cycle all over again. We have discovered that if Daniel rests his arm/hand on my belly and talks, she calms right down. If he doesn't talk, she gets excited and tries to show Daddy her cool tricks. (Side note: if I rest my hand on her, she proceeds to throw herself into my bladder until my hand goes away and I go to the bathroom. She is therefore affectionately called my "little punk.")

At least I can take comfort in knowing that as uncomfortable as I am becoming, Yanni seems totally happy in her water bed. Her growth and development isn't about average; it's right on average. At our 18 week ultrasound, the doctor and ultrasound technician were surprised when Yanni's growth was EXACTLY the average numbers for a baby her age. Her heartbeat is pretty stable at 150 bpm (seeing as how she NEVER stops moving...the only time the doctor has measured her heart rate while she wasn't moving, her heart rate was 130 bpm, which the doctor said is within the normal range. Then Anya again remembered her no-sleep rule, as my internal organs found out, and her heart rate went back up.)

On a less me-trying-to-be-funny-so-people-like-me note, I'd like to share an experience we had today. During Sacrament meeting, I started feeling all crampy and yucky. I knew I needed to go home, but I wanted to finish Sacrament Meeting and get with the Primary President to tell her I was headed home since I was supposed to conduct Primary today. All of a sudden, I got extremely dizzy, and realized that I was blacking out. I don't remember much about this part, except telling Daniel that I couldn't see and asking him to take me home. He later told me that as he held my hand, I started shaking and seemed to involuntarily be clenching and unclenching his hand. I remember pretty much falling into his chest and not being able to pick myself up for a moment or two. After he was confident that I could walk by myself, we got up and proceeded to leave. I almost fell while leaving the chapel, so he half-carried me out of the building and to the car. The fresh air helped quite a bit, and I was soon able to see clearly and walk by myself.

When we got home, we called the Dr's office from the car. The urgent-care person paged the on call doctor for the clinic, so we waited for him to call back. We didn't feel the need to zoom to the ER right then, so we went inside and Daniel made me all sorts of protein-packed foods and had me drink lots of fluids. I knew I should have been worried, but I really wasn't. Anya was busy playing like crazy, so I figured she was just fine. I asked Daniel to give me a blessing, and I'm so thankful that he is always ready and willing to exercise the priesthood. The blessing he gave offered me comfort, and promised that Anya would be carried to term, as long as I am taking care of my basic physical needs. The spirit also encouraged him to address other concerns I've been having about being a mother, but wasn't even thinking about right then.

Later on, the doctor called back, and since I hadn't had another episode like that since church, and since I didn't hit my head or belly when I blacked out, he said that I should lie low for a while, drink fluids, blah blah blah, and if I started feeling worse, to go to the ER.  Aside from feeling exhausted, I haven't felt dizzy or crampy like I did, so I've been taking it easy for the day.

Here's a chance for me to be vain and honest. I am gorgeous, so I scored well with appearances with my body, but health-wise, I've never really been above par. I'm like a shiny car with a crappy engine. As I think about Yanni's very existence, I have no doubt in my mind that the Spirit is keeping my body strong enough to endure this pregnancy and do the things required of me. My first trimester, I lost so much weight from being so sick, yet somehow I always had enough energy to go to my classes. That's not to say it was easy, but somehow possible. When I wasn't in classes, I was so sick that I could hardly take care of myself. As my pregnancy has progressed, I've gotten over morning sickness, but have struggled with how small my stomach has become. In not being able to eat as much as I want, I've been totally exhausted. I tried going off of my anti-depressants, but I got to a point where I was so depressed that I literally could not eat or sleep. My doctor is fine with the prescription I'm on, and said that in her experience, babies whose moms took anti-depressants (specifically, the one I'm on) during pregnancy were more fussy, but overall as healthy as any other baby.

Contrary to how all of this may sound, I'm not trying to complain. I want to express how the  Lord really has strengthened my body in order to keep Anya safe and healthy. Anya shouldn't exist in the first place, and there was a good chance that my body would have rejected her early on in the pregnancy. I've read that women with PCOS have a 40% chance of NOT miscarrying babies. With a certain medication I was on, the chance of miscarriage was lessened by 30%. There was still a 30% chance my body wouldn't have responded well to her, and would have not continued with the pregnancy at all. I believe that without the Lord's influence and protection, I wouldn't be writing this right now. I'd be writing about my bitterness of soul instead.

I'm thankful that I have Daniel who is so sweet and understanding. Since I've been feeling continuously exhausted and just not well, my house is a mess. He has NEVER made me feel like it's my fault. He has NEVER made me feel lazy or incompetent because of the mess. When I apologize for not doing anything, he'll sweetly rub my belly and say that I am doing something. He'll do the dishes in the morning before I wake up, and totally takes over the laundry even without being asked. He's quick to get me whatever I need when I'm not feeling well, and never complains about any of it. (except for the stupid pan that refuses to be clean, but I frequently complain about that as well.) I'm also thankful for my doctor who also has fertility issues, and is so amazing and understanding as to how I feel. I'm also thankful for my ward members, who when they saw me leave today so sick, were quick to call me after church to make sure I was okay. (Everyone saw me stumble out. So embarassing...but at least I feel loved.)

I started feeling woozy half-way through this, so I hope I got my main message across. If all of this is relentless babble, I apologize, and will try to re-post this in non-Stephanie-babble.