Tuesday, March 9, 2010

love is not a victory march

Kind of towards the beginning of my pregnancy, I had this day at work where I started crying and I couldn't stop. I couldn't say why it started and every time I tried to figure it out the tears would just come harder. I stayed at work for several miserable hours before finally leaving early and I went to see my OB. She asked me some questions about how I was eating and sleeping and whatnot and then took my hand and said that it as a pregnant woman it was perfectly acceptable to just lose my shit sometimes. There was a lot more to that conversation, but that was when I really knew I had chosen the right OB.

It has been roughly 32 or 33 weeks of at least one doctor appointment a week, if not more than that. I know which veins I prefer anyone to try to draw blood from and which ones I will flatly refuse to allow be tried. I am an expert at peeing in a cup, both in aim and being able to do so just about on demand. I take my blood pressure at least three times a day at home, gave up all of my known allergy cures, eat pretty healthy foods, cut way back on caffeine, and watched my center of gravity change before my very eyes.

Have you ever had to do a 24 hour urine collection? You get a big jug and you literally pour all of your urine over a 24 hour period into the jug. Even better, you need to keep it cool so that bacteria doesn't grow so that means either a spot in the fridge or some sort of ice chest or bucket for it to hang out in. It's necessary to see how much protein is in your urine and can be indicative of preeclampsia during pregnancy.

I turned in my fourth 24 hour urine collection today, as per directions from one of the offices I go to. The other office called me and said they dumped it because I hadn't done it during the right chunk of 24 hours. I got conflicting directions and basically it doesn't really matter because I have to do it over again.

Well friends, I lost my shit again today.

I understand they need the numbers to make sure I'm doing okay. A lot of the signs of preeclampsia are not things you can just see. I don't understand it all exactly but what I do get is it's important for my health and the baby's health to take all of this very seriously. All of the labs and monitoring and poking and prodding is not just to torture me and the results that have come back this whole time have been pretty good overall. I can't even express how much I love my baby and how I already feel like a piece of my heart is just exposed to the world. So it's not that any of this isn't worth it. But I am tired.

I am tired of the appointments and arguing over scheduling the next round. I am tired of waddling my way to two appointments a week. I am tired of not driving myself and feeling like I am sucking the life out of whoever (mainly my mom) has generously driven me that day. I am tired of staying inside at home but also know that going anywhere for too long completely drains any energy reserves. I am tired of people saying I will miss being pregnant because even if that's true there is no way I will be able to see it for several more months.

It was completely unreasonable for me to cry at home and then continue crying the entire drive back to the doctor's office to get a new jug. I have a maximum of one week left. I can do this. I want to do this because I can hardly wait to meet my little one. And with the timing, I'm going to be in the area of the lab anyway so who cares if I have to stop there to drop it off. I was just looking forward to a day of no appointments and no health stuff. Wednesday was my day this week to finish up the baby's room and spend some time with my husband and not be tied up with anything else. I kind of get to do that anyway, I just have to stick close to home so I can be sure to collect everything I need. And maybe convince my husband to rub my back until I fall asleep at some point in the day.

The tears that spilled down my face were a culmination of things. All the doctor appointments, the discomfort of the last few weeks, the desire to get things done paired with a ridiculous lack of energy, the well meaning (mostly) people asking if we're ready, the cold I currently have... I guess sometimes the stress in my life just has to come out through my tear ducts.

I guess tomorrow is still kind of a day off. Then Thursday will be another non-stress test and then an ultrasound and a consult with the perinatologist. And the Thursday after that, Baby C will be here and I will have a completely new set of things to learn and handle and conquer. I can do it because I don't have to do it by myself.

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