Two Weeks and Counting...

I haven't cooked dinner in two weeks. Well, I guess there was that day I made tacos...and the Sunday that I threw chicken, stuffing, and potatoes into the crockpot, but seriously, I haven't really made dinner in two weeks.

I am home on vacation until January 2nd, and I had such high hopes of cleaning the kitchen (finally!), and making some good dinners. It sounded like such a nice change of pace from all the holiday snacking. However, it wasn't meant to be tonight. I hardly slept last night due to Duncan coughing, weird dreams, and Patrick pulling the covers off me every time he rolled over in bed. I slept on the couch for about an hour, awoke from a freaky dream, ran upstairs and jumped into bed. When my heart finally stopped pounding, I realized that I was developing a migraine. It was 4 AM and since I can't take my migraine medication, I was out of luck. I awoke at 7:30 AM with an excruciating migraine - an I-can't-lift-my-head-from-the-pillow migraine. I took some medicine and stayed on the couch until 12 PM. It was at this time that I realized that there was no chance in hell that I would be making dinner...or cleaning the stupid kitchen.

So tonight's dinner is Jimmy John's...and while I feel guilty for another night of restaurant dining, I just don't really care. I know that I should be feeling better in a few weeks and that little by little I should be able to ramp up my cooking. I even got the Cooking Light cook book with every single recipe from 2007! I am actually able to look at the pictures without gagging, so I'm pretty darn proud of myself.

On the pregnancy front, I'm in my 9th week and I'm feeling...well, I've had migraines every day for about a week, I'm still nauseated (although the Phenergan is helping), and I'm bloated. Everything I've read said that this is all very normal, and that the migraines and nausea should begin to taper off by week 11.

Sometimes I feel like a giant science experiment. Other times I get excited when I read that the embryo (I don't think it's officially a fetus until next week), has four chambers to the heart and has developed elbows. I look forward to the day when it's head is proportionate to its body, so it no longer looks like a deformed potato. Because I pretty much look the same as I did 10 weeks ago, I don't feel a huge attachment to "it" yet, but that will come with the first ultrasound and when we hear the heartbeat. Duncan calls it the "baby" while I refer to it as a stowaway, a fugitive, or a freeloader. Of course, I mean this in the best way possible...

Too Much?

I worry that I'm taking too many painkillers for my migraines. I don't have any other options - Tylenol isn't helping, and there isn't anything else I can take.

I just hope it isn't too much...

Happy Birthday, Skie!

Today is my sister's 38th birthday. I got to talk to her tonight for almost an hour - a shocker when you think she has two kids and I called her during the "witching hour."

Some of my favorite memories of my sister:

1. Building the most awesome forts in our bedrooms during the summer and on winter weekends. We'd hold up the blankets with these monster encyclopedias...inevitably they'd fall on one of us in the middle of the night. And we would giggle until we fell back asleep.



2. Sitting on the driveway with our coloring books, waiting for my dad to come home from work. I admired my sister, who was creative even back then, and would ask her for advice on what colors to use. Her standard response was, "Any color your heart desires."



3. Spending the night in my sister's dorm room at Indiana University. I thought I was so cool back then (despite being a shy 16-year old). She introduced me to her friends and all the guys she knew. I was too young for them, but that didn't stop me from forgetting all about those silly high school boys.



4. Rocking out at the INXS concert at the UIC Pavilion in 1988. We had 20th row seats and we stood on the metal folding chairs and screamed during our favorite songs.



5. Coming up with the nickname "Skie," a name that we call each other. She's Skie and I'm Skie. It's a name that we've used for...I don't know how many years, and one that somehow morphed from the word "sister." I'm not even going to try to explain it.



6. Attending our monthly Sunday matinees. Sometimes we'd be the only people in the theatre, but we liked it like that. It was our time together as adults - no boyfriends or husbands. Just the two of us, watching a movie that no one else would want to see with us. We had some of our best conversations as we left the theatre.



7. Giggling about our inside jokes - some that we've shared since I was 13 and she was 16. "Talkin' to ya' cordless" and "I'll wait for you forevah..." are two of my favorites.
   
   

So, happy birthday, Skie. Can't wait to see you in a few days...

Praying to the Phenergan Gods

The late-night sickness started coming earlier and earlier until it became all-day sickness. I went from having a healthy appetite to a non-existent appetite. I'm hungry, but put me in front of food and I will refuse all of it. Nothing is appetizing to me. Sure, it all sounds good, and it even smells good, but I don't actually want to eat any of it.

My diet has consisted of bananas, graham crackers, pretzels, cheese & crackers, and plain noodles. The weird thing is now all of these foods (even the mere thought of them) make me nauseous.

After 5 days on vitamin B6 supplements to combat the sickness, I was forced to call the doctor, who promptly prescribed me an anti-nausea medication - Phenergan. It's supposed to cause significant drowsiness. Whatever...as long as I stop feeling like throwing up 24/7.

So I'm wondering when the excitement of this situation will kick in. That initial sense of panic seems to have passed (I'm sure I'll have more of those moments as the weeks pass), but seriously, when will I really feel pregnant? When we decide on how to decorate the "spare bedroom"? When we start calling it the nursery instead of the spare bedroom? When I have that first ultrasound? When I outgrow my pants? When I feel the baby move? When Patrick and I go to Target to start a registry and I get to watch him randomly zap things with the scanner gun like he did when we were getting married?

This is all weird, wild stuff...

Things I've Learned In the Past 48 Hours...

1. Lettuce and pregnancy don't mix well
2. Mayonnaise is REALLY good on sandwiches (and I normally can't stand it)
3. "Morning sickness" is a misnomer
4. "Evening sickness" exists...
5. I can swallow a pill when absolutely desperate (vitamin B6 is supposed to help with the above-mentioned evening sickness)
6. Grape sour balls make me happy
7. The colder the drink, the better
8. Old episodes of Beverly Hills 90210 make me cry
9. My doctor and her staff are wonderful

I really don't want every post from now on to be about pregnancy, but this one was very necessary...

Throwing Tradition Out the Window

While I like tradition when it comes to the holidays (decorating the tree, having a big family meal, etc.), I hate when tradition tries to dictate what I should and shouldn't do. So, here I am, completely throwing tradition out the window by telling everyone (or the few lost souls who read this blog) that I am pregnant.

Yes, you read that right. I am in my seventh week of pregnancy, which according to some people, is too early to say anything. But guess what? I am turning 35 years old in one month. This might be the only time I ever get to tell people this news, so I'm taking advantage of it.

The last few weeks have been up and down. Scared. Freaked out. Exhausted. Excited. Nervous. Panicked. Exhausted. Have I mentioned exhausted? It's mind-numbing exhaustion. Think Nyquil 24-hours a day. Throw in some migraines for good measure and that pretty much sums up my last few weeks.

I don't think I'm at the point yet where I'm jumping up and down. I'm still dealing with the reality of this whole situation. It will happen. Right now, Patrick and I are in what I like to call the sarcasm stage. Sarcasm and humor are good ways to deal with life-changing events.

So mark your calendars for August 3, 2008 because that's when the newest member of our family is due to arrive. I sure hope he/she gets Patrick's dimples and laid back attitude and my empathy and knack for spelling and grammar. If this child can escape being a spaz like me, I think we'll be just fine...

How Do I Get Through This?

The panic reached its peak last night. With thoughts swirling through my head, I ended up sobbing. I cried until my head ached. Today was better - it started out like last night, but it improved a lot. I don't want to go back to last night. I don't want to even think about how I felt and those awful thoughts I had.

I'm trying to breathe through it all. I am trying to focus on everything else - this weekend's trip to Chicago, how absolutely beautiful our living room looks from the white lights on our Christmas tree, holiday shopping, the new book I just started reading, etc. I am trying to get through these times with a lot of faith and a dash of humor.

It will get better. I know it.

Finally Some Good News

Patrick's mom had surgery last Wednesday and it was very successful - no mastectomy! They removed the tumor and one lymph node, although they do not think the cancer spread. She is healing well, but is very tired. She is scheduled to have radiation for 6 weeks and there is still the possibility of starting chemotherapy. That's where the confusion is - we were told 6 weeks of radiation, but heard nothing about chemo. Apparently the doctor's office called her last week and set up an appointment for her to meet with the "chemo doctor." Still need some clarification on that.

The panic that I referred to in my last post is getting better. If I think too much about it, I start myself on that downward spiral. Day by day, I tell myself. Day by day...