viva el nasal occlusion!
I have a confession: I have become a serial nose-picker.
(Yet another!) one of the downsides of my pregnancy has been nasal congestion and the increase of all manner of yuck going on inside my nose. I have to constantly remind myself not to start excavating in polite company, and even as I type I can feel a small ‘n’ crusty wedged in the back of my right nostril.
I have never liked the feeling of anything at all in my nose, so I dedicate a good portion of my day to keeping the ol’ shnozzola sparkling. Tissue, fingers, cotton swabs – if it fits, it goes up and in to get the offending detritus out. I keep my nails long on purpose – not as digging tools (ewww 😀 ) but a deterrent; long nails and mucous membranes just don’t mix.
The backs of my hands are dry from all the hand-washing/sanitizing I do, on account of all the sniffer-scraping. I’ve always been fastidious about having clean hands, so as soon as my beak-cleaning business is done, it’s time to wash. Scrub-a-dub-dub…
I know. Grody, right? But I haven’t done a TMI in a while, and it’s one of the things that I can’t wait to be rid of once the wee girl makes her debut.
Don’t judge. Just pass the tissue.
I’m going to get someone to bring me a whole platter of this THE MINUTE SHE IS OUT OF MY BODY.
Was out to dinner with the boy on Saturday. Navigating restaurant menus has become tricky, because my first inclination is to either order steak or salmon. I like (nay, love) my steaks rare (warm and bloody, really), which is a no-no during pregnancy. Salmon isn’t on the always-avoid list, but because the mercury can be harmful to the little one, I’ve just not eaten any in the past nine months. At this point, I don’t think it would harm her, as she will be, as of this coming Friday, A FULL TERM BABY (woot) — but why take any chances?
I miss eating Brie. And all soft, unripened cheeses. I so miss sushi – salmon sashimi in particular. I miss drinking a full glass of Jacob’s Creek moscato (oh, who’m I kidding? I can easily polish off a bottle of that sweet elixir) and having a cigarette after a good meal. Yes, I’m a former smoker. We’ll see what happens with that. I know it’s a disgusting vice, and I’ve made it the last 200-odd days without one, so how hard can it be to continue on the path? I’ve got to say it’ll be a lot easier to maintain non-smoker status as the boy quit last summer…and if I’m planning on breastfeeding, the drinking and the smoking will have to remain a negative, Batman.
Know what I also miss? Exercise. Never thought I’d say that in a million years! I can’t wait to get back to doing Insanity and ZWow and all of my other HIIT. Exercise also includes salsa/bachata – and any dancing in general. I’ll likely have another 6-8 weeks after Aisha is born to be able to even THINK about moving with any intensity, but oh, how I dream about being active again.
Don’t get me wrong; I’ve enjoyed having pregnancy as an excuse to pretty much eat and sleep with some abandon, but I also have to say I can’t wait until she’s here so I can get back to some semblance of the me that was.
I miss being able to see my toes. 😦
I have one of these about once or twice a month. Well-done. With bacon. Now verboten. This makes me so sad. Thanks A LOT, Aisha. 😦
I was back at L&D bright and early Sunday morning. I got my dad to drop me off, and texted the boy to meet me later. Upon my arrival, I didn’t even have to re-process; I showed up and explained why I was there, and the reception nurses were all, “oh, yes… you were here last night, abdominal pains, come right in.”
I was set up on a bed in triage, hooked up to the NST monitors again (netting, dopplers, and movement clicker thingy) and told to hang tight while they located an ultrasound tech.
Even though it was empty, triage is a white-noise cacophony of the whirs and buzzing of various machines. Over the rapid “squooshing” of Aisha’s heartbeat on the fetal monitor, I could hear the primal, pained vocalizations of a lady in the throes of labour down the hall. After about ten minutes of grunts and sceams, there was momentary silence… and then the faint wail of a baby. I smiled, recalling how much I enjoyed hearing that sound during my stay last September. Continue reading
Suck it up, buttercup. You wanted this.
It’s 5:37am, and I’m up because I’m wholly uncomfortable.
Today is 33 weeks. Peanut is the size of a pineapple (another one of my least-liked fruits/veggies) and I read someplace that this is around the time that she will settle into her final position before birth. She’s always been active, but lately her movements are bigger – stop-me-in-my-tracks shocking – as if she’s a rabbit burrowing a den for the winter. I’m feeling her feet (hands? elbows? heels?) dig into parts of my body she never bothered with before. I’m pretty sure my ribs are bruised from the inside.
Pelvic Girdle Pain has set in, making it near-impossible at times to walk with my legs together. I look like I just got off a horse, or as though someone gave me a good, hard boot to the crotch. I alternate between pain that keeps me awake, and pain (mostly from the back) that knocks me out. I’ve also developed Restless Legs Syndrome, which hits me hard at night. I literally feel as though I have ants in my pants (or under my skin) and constantly have kick and rub my legs and frequently change positions to get the sensations to stop. Continue reading
What a pretty pedicure. These certainly aren’t my feet; I can’t even bend to put on my socks, much less paint my toes.
Had an appointment with Dr. Freedman today…
Only, when I got to the office, receptionist Laura informed me that Dr. Freedman was absent due to a family emergency. In her place, a Dr. Diamond would be filling in.
The office was packed, as per usual, and the wait was long, as per usual. The boy grew restless (as per usual) and griped at me about it (as if I set the appointments?). We whisper-argued back and forth, and I reminded him that he volunteered to come with me, and next time he was more than welcome to stay home.
My name was called shortly thereafter, and as he walked ahead of me to the examination room, I made a funny face at his back, eliciting giggles from a few of the ladies sitting in the reception area. Continue reading
This isn’t me; the lucky lady is free of a lopsided linea nigra, and has a better outtie than I.
In the early months of my pregnancy, and even before I got pregnant, I was very diligent about taking my pre-natal vitamins. The brand I use, NFH, was recommended to me by a naturopath co-worker. After doing some research on the brand, I wound up choosing their Pre-natal SAP vitamins on account of a number of factors (made in Canada, totally organic, capsule as opposed to pill form) – although I disliked the fact that I had to take them three times a day.
The Pre-SAPs have a funny taste, and since I battled quite a bit with nausea in trimester two, I cut back on my per diem (as approved by Dr. Freedman) to twice a day. However, I was still fairly good about taking them when I should. Now that I’m in the home stretch, I find that I’m forgetting to take them even once a day, and I dunno if it’s due to pregnancy brain, or just being over the whole experience. My diet has been pretty balanced (if you ignore the carbo-chocolate-bingeing), and I haven’t been slacking on the nutrients aspect, per se. However, I think I’m going to switch to a 1x day brand for this last bit. I feel awful about depriving Aisha of any other supplemental good stuff before she’s born.
Ah, a mother’s guilt. It starts early, doesn’t it?
The pregnant lady wants what she wants.
Throughout different times in my pregnancy, I’ve craved different things.
In the very early stages, I wanted all kinds of dairy (yogurt and milk – chocolate milk in particular, and process cheese slices. Do those even count?). I developed an affinity for condiments on everything I ate, especially ketchup – something I wasn’t very fond of prior to becoming pregnant. There was also a hankering for meat. Beef and pork were the flesh of choice; I was never a huge chicken fan before, and something about the smell and taste of it completely turns me off now.
I have always had a well-developed sweet tooth, and pregnancy has only served to heighten this. I eat a candy bar about twice a week, usually a Twix or Wunderbar, and in the absence of chocolate, a personal-sized mini-tub of Hagen Dazs dulce de leche does the trick. Continue reading