99% hippie

This week has been filled with me plugging away at Chapter 8 of my dissertation, a visit to my midwife, and my first ever prenatal yoga class.

Chapter 8 is kind of like the “money chapter” of my dissertation. It’s the “discussion” section, where I go through all of the crappy results I’ve presented in previous chapters and explain what they mean and how these earth-shattering revelations change the face of the world as we know it. What it comes down to is that growing up is hard for baby howler monkeys. They need mommas who eat well, but they also need to be able to fend for themselves when their mommas just can’t provide for them. Only by splitting the costs of growth with their mothers do baby howler monkeys have a chance of making it in a world where it is sometimes very hot and dry and there isn’t always a lot to eat. Baby howler monkeys have got to be tough from the get-go.

On Wednesday I had another appointment with my midwife. I got to hear Fig’s heartbeat again, which was nice. I also found that I had gained 3 pounds in the last 3 weeks, which puts me back at my starting weight from before the onset of puking and not eating. They were making a big deal about how great that was, but I wasn’t really that impressed. I’m still wearing my skinny jeans; I guess that time is about to end though.

I’m now 14 weeks into this, which officially puts me in to the second trimester. For most women, that’s when the nausea ends, if it’s going to. Unfortunately, my nausea continues, and I am getting really concerned that it will last the entire time. The Zofran had been helping a little bit, and so my midwife said to keep on taking it. When I got home from the appointment, I realized that I do not have a refill on the prescription and my next appointment will not be until sometime long after my current bottle runs out. I tried cutting my dosage down to 1 pill per day in order to stretch it out, but the results have not been good. I’ve actually been feeling much worse than before, and even my go-to comfort foods (such as the avocado and rice concoction I ate 3 times per day last week) make me feel like I’m going to wretch. I guess I’m going to have to call the doctor tomorrow and see if they’ll write me another prescription to get me by until my next appointment.

On Thursday night, I went to my first prenatal yoga class ever. Given my recent reduction in Zofran, I felt pretty terrible during the class. And I had such a pounding migraine that I could not turn my head, see properly, or even communicate with the other pregnant women. I really did like the class though, but I have to admit, I felt like I might not have been enough of a hippie for it. And that is really saying something. There were a lot of visualization exercises, and let’s just say I had a little trouble “unzipping” my uterus, taking my baby out, and rocking it for several minutes. Maybe it is because Fig is currently only the size of a peach, or maybe it’s because I was just so nauseated I couldn’t focus. But seriously. Several months ago, friend John G of Gutzville proclaimed that Rob and I are 85% hippie. After merely attending the prenatal yoga class, I’d say this has to raise my hippie status to at least 99%.

I am currently in the midst of a ridiculously intense need for Ritz crackers. Yesterday we had a family party for my mother-in-law’s birthday, and I found that, not only could I eat Ritz crackers, but also that they were highly palatable. Unfortunately, we do not have any Ritz crackers at home, and Rob has the car somewhere like an hour away doing a trail run that will probably take him several more hours. So unless I want to take my extremely nauseated, pregnant self to Schnuck’s by bike or foot in this 19 degree weather, I’m going to have to come up with another food that doesn’t make me feel like I’m going to die.

Hoping my morning dose of Zofran kicks in soon. Thanks for reading!