Party of one.

I’ve been thinking of a way to write this post for a while but had no idea how. I guess I still don’t know how, but it’s important that I put this out into the Universe so I can let it go. Let it gooooo.

I know that a lot of my readers (and blogs that I frequent as well) are either women trying to conceive (TTC in internet) or have had recent miscarriages. I read their blogs and my heart breaks for them because I’ve been there in both instances. A little wave of guilt rushes over me when I write about my pregnancy milestones or post pictures of the baby’s room, even though it’s a special time for me. I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings or come off as insensitive.

When I lost the pregnancy last year, it was the most intense pain (emotionally and physically) that I’d ever experienced. People telling me (innocently) that they hoped I could conceive and carry a child to term just poured salt in the wound. What if it was my body? Did I kill my baby? Is it because I have a negative blood type? Is it because I’m overweight? Lots of women struggle with infertility…will I? All of these things flooded my brain every second.

A couple months after the miscarriage, I told Chris we were going to get to town on this conception business. I was going to chart shit out and make it happen. To my surprise, it did. And the freaking out began.

There’s already so much I can’t control, so I wanted to control everything I could. No caffeine, no lunch meats, no ibuprofen, no feta cheese, you get the idea. I also ate pretty healthy. Like, better than before I got pregnant and was on a constant diet. I did not enjoy my first trimester. I was throwing up, I was nauseous, completely exhausted, and I really craved Greek salads. On top of that, I was scared out of my mind. I just couldn’t relax.

We all know things are going fine right now, but the truth is, I still worry about this pregnancy. I still wake up every day scared because I haven’t felt Henry move all night. That first morning kick is the best feeling in the world. And after passing the first glucose test, my doctor insisted I re-take the 1 hour glucose test again. I failed. FAILED. That word again. My body failed. I don’t eat a lot of sweets and I haven’t gained much weight, but guess what? I failed again. Now comes the 3 hour tolerance test (fun) and I’m panicking a little. I know the majority of women who fail the 1 hour go on to pass the 3 hour. But I’m still scared. I just want to have the healthiest baby possible. I don’t want my body to hurt another one — especially this one.

If you happened to make it through this pity party, a) congratulations and 2) thanks for listening. I feel better already.

Blood, naps, and cheeseburgers.

I meant to write a blog on Friday night, but just as I settled down to jot down some nonsense, I heard a really loud curse word. That starts with the letter F. My poor husband cut his finger badly with an x-acto knife when he was doing some design work. He also wants me to add that he has never cut himself before. This was a freak occurrence and don’t you dare think otherwise.

Anyway, it was panic time around here as I threw on a horrible ensemble of black leggings, a yellow maternity top, a gray skirt, and flip flops. I left the house with that on! He cut his finger really bad and blood was everywhere, so I was sure we would need to head to the ER. Thankfully, Chris was the calm and collected one and told me we should just go to the pharmacy and get some suture strips. That did the trick and it’s healing nicely now. I still wince thinking about it (and the outfit).

On Saturday, I got up bright and early for my 1-hour glucose test. It wasn’t so bad. I got a nicely chilled bottled of flat orange soda, basically. I was thirsty, so I pounded it down, impressing all of the nurses I’m sure.  Then I kept myself busy with Facebook and a book about John Lennon (more on my love for him in my next post).  Hopefully I get the results soon.

 Mmmmm. (I stole this picture from somewhere. This is not the exact one I consumed. Full disclosure and all.)

That evening, we had dinner with a friend of ours who happens to live like 50 feet from us, in the apartment building next door. He’s only lived there two months, and we had yet to see him, so when he sent me a text offering me a grilled green chile cheeseburger…uhh, yeah. I’ll be there. Have I mentioned that my biggest craving during this pregnancy has been cheeseburgers? And then add fresh roasted green chile and…heaven. It was also cool to just walk across the parking lot to get to them. I didn’t even have to lug around my purse!

Sunday, I did nothing. Technically, I did a little cleaning and watched a couple movies. But mostly, it was naps. And nothing.

I’m trying to enjoy it while I can.

A whole lotta nothing going on.

All has been quiet at Casa de Kosek. I spent the 3 day weekend doing much of nothing, but I did finally venture out to get a pedicure. I took naps. I watched a lot of BBC shows on Netflix.

Mainly just this one.

I went to my monthly OB appointment today. Everything is still fine. All of my aches and pains are normal and will only get worse. I didn’t gain any weight this month (total shocker to me given my sudden and intense craving for Cinnamon Toast Crunch for every meal. Hey, I eat it with Silk Soy Milk with DHA, so it’s totally fine). And, I have the 1-hour glucose test this weekend. I’m not scared. Ok, maybe a little. I shall combat that fear with this:

These might have to happen soon. Shan will agree, I’m sure.