Monday marks the beginning of Week 4 for me. I have the pleasure of experiencing extreme fatigue (if I could think of a stronger word than extreme, I would use that instead); severe hunger and soreness in my breasts unlike I've ever experienced. My trips to the bathroom during the night have increased as well. As a result, I am getting less sleep at night, which hasn't helped with the fatigue I'm experiencing. If the health of the baby, which my husband and I have named Bump, is in direct relation to how horrible I feel, then Bump is nice and strong.
I dragged myself into work Monday morning with one word on my mind; coffee. I had to settle for a small cup of decaf and I was not happy about that. I carried a scowl on my face all morning. When I felt my mood lift somewhat, I took that opportunity to start making phone calls, which isn't easy where I work because privacy is not something my office respects. Of course, I don't want to tell work that I'm pregnant until after I've coasted through my first trimester so trying to be discreet was going to pose some challenges.
The first call I made was to my Obstetrician. The receptionist said that my doctor does not see patients until after the first trimester. Was this normal? Apparently, it is. Knowing that the reason for waiting so late was because of a high rate of miscarriage, did not make me feel any better. She scheduled me in on April 28. It did not occur to me at the time that this was over a month into my second trimester.
The second call I made was to some local child care services. There were only four listed in the phone book. My husband, Jeff, and I both commute about an hour to work, but in opposite directions. Our hometown was the logical choice in case one of us couldn't pick up or drop off Bump. The first call got me in touch with a woman who said there were no infant spots available; she sounded so irritated that I was calling her that I was glad she wouldn't be an option. The second call proved fortuitous. The day care said they had four infant spots available. I said I would call back with a time we could take a tour. My husband, Jeff didn't have any luck getting in touch with the other two places. Comparing will be difficult when there's no one to compare against. Perhaps we should consider a nanny.
I wish I could say the rest of the day went smoothly. I knew that hiding my pregnancy was going to be a challenge mainly because I look at my life as an open book; everyone's free to read. Keeping news this exciting to myself does not come naturally to me. While Jeff has chosen to tell no one, I had difficultly choosing the three, no four, shoot now five friends to share the news with. I work in an office full of men and only a few women so I felt I could pull it off. Little did I know, that past habits would come back to haunt me.
I love Diet Pepsi. I would swear that my eye dilates (my blind eye is in a perpetual state of dilation) the first time I take a sip of that nectar from the gods. This morning, however, it was Fresca. Then, it was a lot of water. One of my coworkers noticed and began blabbing "Kathy's given up caffeine. The earth has stopped; the Saints have won the super bowl" and other such nonsense. I had to shush him because I was afraid someone would make the connection. It continued when he noticed my diet had changed as well as I was no longer drinking my lunch but having an actual meal. It's nice to know that my coworkers care enough to pay attention to my eating and drinking habits. But it's not cool that they broadcast it on the six o'clock news.
By the time Monday ended, exhaustion had seeped its way into my bones and I could barely make it to my car. After the hour drive home, I begged Jeff to make me dinner while I showered and then crashed on the bed. My dogs were scurrying around wanting to play, wanting a walk, wanting to play on me and I felt guilty looking into their sad little faces. Kuru, my eight year old basenji, finally settled down next to me and laid his head on my belly, while Simba, my six year old Rhodesian Ridgeback, continued to play with his rawhide by tossing it into the air and pouncing on it after it fell to the ground. Jeff brought me a dinner of eggs and a whole wheat English muffin, which I scarfed down. I nestled down into the covers and waited for Jeff to join me.
We had decided that we were going to be parents that read to our children since we both love books. There was no time like the present. I opted for us to read The Hobbit, as it was the book that my dad read to my mom when she was pregnant with me. Jeff decided on The Watchmen, a graphic novel by Alan Moore. Sigh.Well, anything to make my husband happy; The Watchmen it is. I was hoping that since it was a graphic novel, we'd be able to get through this rather quickly and move on to The Hobbit. Little did I realize this graphic novel was twice as long as Tolkien's masterpiece.
After a marginal amount of time, we set the novel down and Jeff sprang away to make me some oatmeal. I picked up a book to read. It was only seven o'clock, but I was exhausted. When Jeff arrived with my oatmeal, he was carrying something extra; the phone. My sister-in-law had called. Apparently, I had set my Facebook status to read that I was exhausted and hungry. I hadn't even considered the implication and we weren't telling. When she asked me how I was feeling, the question lingered in the air if I was pregnant. I punted. After I got off the phone with her, I felt about an inch high, lying by omission. Still, I had promised Jeff I wouldn't breathe a word. I fell asleep shortly thereafter with the dogs both nestled up next to me.
Tuesday was a repeat of Monday. I called my obstetrician to double check my appointment. Was April 28 too late? Yes, it sure was. I was rescheduled for March 20th. This was a relief to me thinking I somehow misunderstood the Due Date Calculator I used on StorkNet. I also asked the nurse what I could take for headaches and sleep-aids.
By the afternoon, the nurse had called and told me to take Tylenol for headaches and Unisom if I was having difficultly sleeping. I already knew that Tylenol wouldn't work so I was stuck with having to manage my headaches through cold compresses, lying down, and not using my eye for a few hours. This is not something I can do while at work. The Unisom, however, was the perfect solution to my sleep problem and I actually got a decent amount of sleep Tuesday night.
The next two days were pretty much the same of wash, rinse, repeat. My husband was helping me by fixing me dinner and I still felt the fatigue was manageable by going to be at 7 o'clock every night. My dogs, however, were not thrilled with bedtime being so early and they were also confused by our sudden change in routine.
At the end of the week, I ventured off to the dentist. I didn't think that choosing your fluoride flavor would be a life altering decision. Apparently, I was wrong. Not two minutes into my cinnamon flavored fluoride, did the vomiting commence. I puked on me; I puked on my hygienist; I puked on the dentist and I even puked on the receptionist in the front lobby. It took me roughly three hours to get through a simple cleaning because we had to keep stopping and starting while I expelled my stomach all over their office.
The only thing I could do afterwards was go home and sleep for two hours. When I woke up, I was starving. Jeff and I were due in less than an hour to visit a daycare. I made a whole wheat English muffin to tie me over, but convinced Jeff to take me to Buffalo Wild Wings afterwards.
The daycare facility we looked at was rather impressive and I was glad they had four spots open. We took the tour, asked the right questions (everyone CPR certified, etc) and left feeling like we had found the right place. Of course, we still had more talking over to do, but we set out to Buffalo Wild Wings with a sense of relief that we had gotten one of the harder decisions out of the way.
After chucking down almost twenty boneless wings, the lethargy settled over me again and Jeff took me home and put me to bed. As Week Four ended, I dreamed of new technologies that could somehow incubate Bump more safely and faster so that when I woke up in the morning I would no longer be tired and have a bouncing bundle of joy to play with. I'm ready to meet my kid.