Today was my 24 week appointment.

First I had my monthly growth ultrasound. Again, baby girl was kicking right before the ultrasound so I wasn’t too concerned – and my belly has been getting very obviously bigger. But still, I wasn’t thrilled with getting led into Ultrasound Room 2. (It was the last one I was in with Devin, when I found out he had died.) But… not as bad as I had expected. Just a brief twinge. But I hopped up on the bed/table and she started the scan. It surprized me that this time they didn’t check the heartrate right away, she just started measuring the head circumference. I don’t concentrate too well until I see that heart beating. And she wasn’t moving too much. But then she moved down to the abdomen and there was the heart beating away. 131bpm, I think she said – which is low for this little one.

But then, after she’d measured the abdomen and femur and confirmed that it is still indeed a girl, we found out why the heartrate was on the lower side: she was sleeping. Not only was she sleeping, but she was nestled face-down, head on my right side, and she would not roll over, not for anything. The tech jiggled her – she waved her hand dismissively at the ultrasound wand. I sat up, layed down, rolled side to side. Nope. She was sleeping, and apparently she has about the same sunny disposition when asleep as her mommy does.

So, despite the tech pulling out the 3d wand and trying for quite some time, we have only two somewhat random pictures. Hell we couldn’t even get a 2d pic of her profile. This is the best one, her arm is over the side of her head as if to say “go away!!”

After that was my midwife appointment. I was given the u/s report to bring to the midwife so we actually got to see it all. She is estimated to weigh 1lb 6oz, which is 48th percentile. Her measurements are all pretty much on track, though again her head circumference measures 25th percentile – looks like she’s going to have a petite head, like me. Femur is measuring 25th percentile as well, which surprized me. But all in all it’s all very good, fluid level is normal, she’s growing well, and she definitely has an attitude.

This time my appointment was with a different midwife in the group. I remembered her from when I was pregnant with Devin. Fundal height is measuring at 24 weeks, right on track. She used the doppler even though I’d just had an ultrasound. Since baby girl was laying transverse she tried to find the heartbeat around my belly button. First thing we heard was a very loud, slow WOMP WOMP. “Uhhh, that’s you,” she said in response to my very startled expression. “You apparently have a very good placental artery there.” I mentioned being able to see and feel my heartbeat very strongly in the center of my belly and she pointed out that it’s probably because of my anterior placenta – all that blood flow right smack dab in the center of my belly. Big “duh” moment, not sure why I didn’t think of that. She moved the doppler a little bit and there was baby’s heartbeat, now measuring around 140.

I asked some quick questions of the midwife – I actually brought a list this time.
– I drink a lot of milk. How much water do I need to drink in addition to that to stay hydrated? (2-4 glasses should be fine.)
– Leg aches and cramps, any suggestions to help? (They really have no idea what causes them. Stretch out the muscles. Warm baths before bed may help.)
– Anything I should know or do about traveling on a plane? (Make sure to do leg stretches and get up and walk around the cabin once an hour. Stay hydrated. Compression stockings wouldn’t be a bad idea.)

She also said that while I’m traveling if I have any medical questions or problems there’s always a midwife on call 24 hours a day, and they can fax my records anywhere immediately, if need be – though of course they wouldn’t anticipate me having any problems at all at this stage in pregnancy.

When we were talking about food/milk intake she mentioned how I’ve gained 13 pounds in the past month. Den’s and my heads snapped up and I very bluntly said, “No I haven’t.” Apparently the nurse wrote down my weight as 148 – it was actually 143 (and even that sounded a little high for what I was expecting). A re-visit to the scale supported my memory, not the written one! Sheesh. Even 8 lbs in a month sounds like a lot. I’m going to have to back off the milk again. And stop eating fast food.

I changed my next appointment from a morning to an afternoon and then we were finally on our way, holding our little ultrasound pictures and shaking our head and sighing at our stubborn, stubborn little girl. Den just groans, “Oh she’s going to be just like you, isn’t she.”

Seeing and hearing about babies born at a tiny 24 week gestation kind of freaks me out a little. I mean, on one hand it’s good to know that this baby could have a fighting chance outside the womb. But still. I have been giving her very stern admonishments to stay safely inside until she is a fat 8lb newborn.

Part of knowing about all of the scary things that go wrong in pregnancy is, yes, fear. But part of it is also a big dose of gratitude. I know it could easily be me with placenta previa, gestational diabetes, pre-eclampsia, preterm labor. But for the time being I have a very healthy body and a very healthy child within, and I feel damnwell blessed that I can say that. Especially after having such bad nausea for the first trimester, and bleeding for almost as long. I am just so relieved to have moved past those two things and to now just be enjoying my pregnancy.

Did I say my skin was clear? Did I really open my big fat mouth? A zit or two. Nothing compared to my “usual”, but still highly irritating. I need to keep my mouth shut, hmph.

I got a haircut! No picture tonight, I’m in bed, but tomorrow. As I had planned I did go to see my stylist and just said, “Let there be curl!” so she gave me something with a lot more layers. Joy joy joy! No more mushroom-head stuck-in-a-windtunnel look! Granted it does look a little messy, but more of a chic messy instead of a crazy ugly messy. And I’m growing my bangs out because, as cute as they looked swept to one side, with the newfound curl that’s going on in my hair it tends to just stick straight out.

I guess you could say I’ve been getting some cravings. Milk, of course – ever since I got over my cold and let myself start drinking milk again I have been wanting it a lot, though it’s easing up a little now. There have been some days where I’d rush in the house from work and just chug a huge glass. So cold and creamy. Sigh, I love milk.

For a few weeks I was wanting fish and chips. Not like must have them now, but I had the thought in my head and wouldn’t let it go until I went and got some. And they were wicked good. But now I seem sated and “over” that. Which is good, they’re so greasy!

The major trend I am noticing right now is that I crave a combo of sweet and salty – at the same time. Things like kettle corn popcorn. I normally like kettle corn, but I’ve been just wolfing down the little mini-bags in the evening. The other way I’m getting my craving is by eating a combination of regular potato chips and yogurt – using the yogurt as a dip. I get some very strange looks for that one, so I’m thinking it might be one of those special pregnancy combinations… but then again, I’ve always dipped my french fries in my milkshake/malt. Same concept. And same yummy goodness. But the thing is, I don’t care too much for just sweet or just salty. I have no interest in eating potato chips by themselves, and sweet things alone are just kind of “eh”. Any other suggestions for combos?

I’m still having limb issues – my wrists are getting sore easily, not to mention the whole legs thing. Den keeps rolling his eyes at me when I mention my sore legs. Well psht! They ache! And who else do I have to whine to, if not my ever-patient husband? But really, it’s not terrible yet. The leg cramps are pretty bad, but I’m kind of managing them, learning how to prevent them. I still sleep very well at night. The sciatica that flared up a couple of weeks ago was quickly taken care of by an emergency trip to the chiropractor and has not returned again (though it will, it will). My tailbone is a little bit achy, especially when I sit in one position too long, but again, it’s just something noteworthy, not something terrible. The rest of me feels pretty damn good. My boobs aren’t sore, my belly feels full and heavy but not at all painful or uncomfortable (usually), I don’t have very many ligament twinges unless I sit up too quickly.

I’m in the good and “easy” stage… but those little glimpses I get of how bad it could get kind of scare me. I have a feeling this third trimester is going to be a lot more trying than when I was pregnant with Devin. I’m really nervous about that last month, too, since I never got there the last time. I keep hearing people warn me about “wait til you get REALLY huge,” or “when you start swelling” or such. And who knows how it’s going to go. I really doubt I would have gotten huge with Devin, not at the rate I was going – I had a pretty petite little belly, and while this time I feel bigger, comparing belly pics shows me to be about the same size. But I feel so comforted having done this before, but after 36 weeks I’m in uncharted territory.

I guess I’ll try to just worry about that when I get there. I have plenty enough to worry about.

I have a post in the works but no time this weekend to sit down and finish it. So instead I want everyone to go over to read Mrs. Spit: Superbowls and Abortions. Such a brilliant, well-written post.

Flying while pregnant, not as fun as I remembered.

It was the long flight that got to me, and almost right away – my right knee feeling like the muscle under my kneecap were slowly twisting in a knot. I have no idea what’s up with my knee, but it does this every time I fly now, ever since I was pregnant with Devin.

My tailbone, too. I tried to lean my chair back to sleep and owowow! So I had to spend the entirety of my flights either leaning to one side or leaning forward. That didn’t give me too many options.

But what I didn’t expect was for my belly to ache quite like it did. It really hasn’t been bothering me lately, except when she’s pummeling me in an uncomfortable position. But today it felt like she was stretched out transverse for the entire day. Pushing, squirming, kicking, all the while I’m rubbing my belly trying to ease some of the pressure. I just wanted to be able to lay down. How can such a small creature get wedged in such an uncomfortable position? So then my ligaments twinged when I would try to get up after hours of sitting. Not to mention the bladder aching from the water intake. I got up very slowly and very carefully, not just so I didn’t hurt myself, but so I wouldn’t pee myself.

But the good news is that I looked and felt very obviously pregnant, and that made me smile all day. It certainly puts me in a better mood – which is necessary after having had my seat kicked from behind 10 times an hour, or a newspaper in my face after I just finally fell asleep. (My seatmates today were very trying. What the hell is wrong with people, do they not understand to sit down, shut up, and not bother other people? Especially sleeping pregnant people?) And baby girl was busy kicking me for most of the flights, it was actually quite hilarious (even when it hurt).

“Your first flight!” I told her. “Just like Devin and I got to do.”

I know when I need a vacation, but I never really know quite how much until I get there – when all the packing, planning and travel is over and I look up and realize, I am on vacation! I don’t have to go to work. I don’t have to do anything. It. Feels. Fucking. Wonderful.

There is also an added value to going home. Home. I don’t use that term lightly, in this context. Coming home means returning to my country, coming home to my family, and even coming home to the house I grew up in. I feel warm and safe and mellow here. Like I’ve stepped out of my life for a little while, just put it on hold while I take a breather, a refresher. I feel comforted by the Canadian flags, the familiar streets, the presence of family. Even something as simple as the way someone pronounces a word makes me smile.

And then today I joined a bunch of happy, excited Canadians waving flags and wearing red, gathered to see this:

Yes, the Olympic torch. And I thought to myself, damn, this is so freaking cool that I get to be here to experience this in my hometown.

I woke up this morning feeling a little bit… off. I thought to myself, jeez, I thought this nausea thing was past? I do still get some nausea in the mornings, but it goes away when I get some food settled in my stomach. So I ate some toast, drank some water. And promptly threw everything. back. up. Violently.

I nibbled a tiny bit after that, but my stomach was feeling worse, not better. A couple hours later I threw up again, but this time there wasn’t anything in my stomach.

And so it has gone all day long. My stomach hurts, literally. I have this oogy, rumbly, unpleasantly-turning-over kind of feeling in my stomach. I took a few hour nap, but soon as I got up, same thing as the morning. I really feel like crying a little bit in frustration – I have things to do, people to see, and I’m stuck in bed feeling miserable as hell. I get to see my parents once a year, and I’m totally out of commission today.

Far as I can tell this is just one of those stomach bugs, probably picked up during my flights two days ago. I am really hoping it’s just a 24-hour thing so I can get back to normal. My worry however is that today I haven’t even kept down water, which means tomorrow if I still can’t keep down water I’m going to end up in the hospital to get fluids – and that would really piss me off.

Son of a bitch.

Update: Next morning is here and I’m feeling bounds better. So far I’ve kept up the little that I’ve been brave enough to nibble on, and the gatorade and water. So it definitely seems to have been some kind of 24 hour bug.

At some age after babyhood I liked to sleep in. I think that age was roughly 4 years old. This continued into my teenage years, when my mother would frequently threaten (and sometimes follow through) to throw a cup of cold water on me if I didn’t get out of bed in the next ten seconds. And my dad would tell me, “Wait til you grow up and get a job. Then you won’t be able to sleep in and you’ll start going to bed at a normal hour!”

The sign of a true night owl: after travelling to a timezone 3 hours behind your own you’re STILL be the last awake at midnight and sleeping until 10am. My parents say, “Ummm, shouldn’t you be falling asleep earlier and awake at some crazy morning hour?” Nope, not me.

And apparently not my daughter, either. She is getting ever stronger, and is starting to keep me up at night unless I’m really tired – depending on how she is facing. But then again, other than a few “nap times” during the day when she’s consistently quiet, I’m not really sure when she sleeps… it feels like she’s always kicking me! (Which is a wonderful thing, especially first thing in the morning. When I wake up all I have to do is roll over and then think in my head, “Baabbyyyy. Wake up!” and I immediately get little taps in response.) For example, it is currently 1am local time (4am “normal” time) and she is apparently throwing a party in there. I’m wondering just how many friends she’s invited.

A busy day tomorrow, so perhaps I should try to get some sleep. Even if the little belly-monster doesn’t want to.

I’m not even a hockey fan – not a sports fan at all, really. But when you get an opportunity, you take it. And I’ll say, it sure is different seeing it in person – much more exciting and interesting.

Go Canada!

(Women’s Ice Hockey, Canada vs. Slovakia. Final score 18-0.)

Things I love about being in Canada:

The comfort of familiarity. The house is pretty much how I remember it. Dad’s train room even smells the same. So many memories.

Food I can only get here. Corn Pops, Coffee Crisp, Aero, Nibs. (I realize you can buy Corn Pops in the US – but it is NOT the same stuff, just trust me.) I am eating far too much junk, just because I can.

Being able to watch the Olympics on three channels simultaneously (each one showing something different). And with Canadian commentators, focusing on the Canadian athletes.

Seeing my 14.5 year old dog… even if she’s aged a lot in the last year and she’s no longer my dog. (She is glued to my dad’s side.)

Things I dislike about being in Canada:

Being 3 hours behind the east coast. For example, it is 1am, and there is no one online to amuse me.

Typing in a website for a store and then realizing, wait, that’s the US version. I have to go to the [crappy, less informative] .ca version for the correct info.

Not having digital cable with DVR. I keep yelling, “How do you live without an ‘info’ button?! I want to know what show this is!” My mom tells me to look it up in TV Week. That is so lame.

An uncomfortable, small bed. Did I ever think this thing was comfortable? Really? (Thankfully my mom bought a foam topper to put on it, so it’s tolerable.)

::

Earlier today there was a period when I wasn’t feeling any kicks – but I was feeling sharp little pains in my left pelvis and ovary. Hmmm, said I, I bet she has her feet down in my pelvis. 15 minutes later I started feeling kicks in my lower left belly quadrant. Apparently she had moved just enough to change the angle of attack – and to start kicking me where I could feel it from the outside, rather than in the ovaries. Ah ha!

Baby girl is still having very active nights. I am propped up in bed with pillows, and she is having a huge party in there, my belly is literally bouncing around. Oh how I love this part of pregnancy! I do not remember ever being kept awake by Devin, however.