Monthly Archives: September 2014

Pillow Fort

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“Falling down is a part of life, getting back up is living.”

Hallelujah… it’s raining carbs! Oh sweet, sweet carbohydrates, how I love thee. This week, under doctor orders, I’ve been asked to eat as many carbs as I like (*this may be an ever-so-slight exaggeration), thanks to my mum’s malfunctioning pancreas. Yes, she’s a diabetic, and as a result, it’s time for my Pregnancy Glucose Tolerance Test (GTT).

I’m a seasoned pro! I’d already done this test during the last pregnancy, but this time I know what to expect. Firstly, this time I arrive extra early to guarantee I’ll be first processed at the pathology counter. Any test requiring fasting overnight is booked for 7:30am, so everyone turns up at the same time and then has to wait to be processed depending on the order you arrived. Last time I waited for an hour. I’m winning so far! I watch as one-by-one women with round bellies wander in. I sense some quiet judgement as they look at the 3 bags of equipment that accompanies me. They have no idea, poor girls! I’m humoured by the whole situation and think in a few hours they’re going to wish that they were me!

I’m the first to be called in for my ‘fasting’ blood sample and informed that they’ll need to take extra blood to update my file. Yes, 5 vials worth. I don’t know if it was due to my apparent over indulgence in carbs, or from the overnight fasting, but as vial number 3 is taken I start getting this familiar feeling. A little sweaty. A little hot. My breathing is getting more shallow and fast. I feel a bit heavy. Ok, now a black drape is being pulled over my head as I utter to the nurse, “I feel a bit sick”. The next thing in my delirium, I see two nurses holding my chin up, blowing air onto my face, repeating; “Smell the roses, blow out the candles. Smell the roses, blow out the candles”. Evidently, I had fainted. My insides echo with a hiss and crackling similar to that which you hear at the end of a burning candlewick. The blood starts returning to normal flow and the black veil is now pulled from my face. I’ve come to. I feel sleepy, but I seem to be able to find the humour in the situation, which puts the nurses, not to mention myself, at ease. I’m watched for a few moments before the remaining blood is taken. That was a bit dramatic.

Sweet medical nectar

Sweet medical nectar

Soon after, I’m called up to drink the green glucose drink, which in my opinion, is not anywhere near as bad as people make out. I actually don’t mind the taste at all. From then, a timer is set for another blood collection in a few hours time. I return to the hard plastic waiting room chairs and I look at the other ladies waiting their turn. I can see their curious eyes on me as I start unpacking my bag of supplies; A cushion to sit on, a pillow for my back, a travel pillow for my neck, my iPad and big ear phones… oh, and a blanket (hospitals get cold, ok!). It may sound over-the-top, but you see, for the next 3 hours, myself, along with those other ladies, have to sit here on these hard, cold chairs. We are not allowed to move around… no walking, no strolling, nothing. As I’m nestled in my pillow fort in the middle of the pathology waiting room, I pass the next few hours in comfort and entertained by a film on my iPad. As each hour passes, I can see the other ladies becoming more impatient, more uncomfortable and more understanding as they look in my direction. No doubt, I’m laughing aloud, crying or smiling like a goof as I get sucked further and further into my film. The crazy pillow lady has somehow morphed into some type of genius.

Before I know it, my timer goes off and my next blood test is completed, drama free! Oh, drama free… how I’ve been searching for you. So… what was the lessons for today? Always pick comfort over perceived sanity. You’re never too old for a pillow fort.

Now get me out of here. I’m hungry.

“Attract what you expected. Reflect what you desire. Become what you respect. Mirror what you admire.”

All the Joys

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What we allow is what will continue.

It’s official. I’ve never, ever, ever been this pregnant before. I keep finding myself uttering it randomly to people in passing. What the heck is wrong with me? I don’t think they want to know your amazingly awkward achievement. Am I getting some type of pleasure out of making people uncomfortable? I seem to have a natural knack of it. Maybe it’s just a bit of a plea. Maybe you can celebrate with me now? Maybe I can now be normal like all the other pregnant ladies? Maybe now we can share stories of pregnancy aches and pains… you know… all the joys I keep hearing about.

The all-day-long sickness has finally passed. It seems I can now stay awake between daylight hours. My tummy is continuing to stretch, and little one has developed an obsession with hiccups. My hair, skin and nails are looking fabulous, however, my UTI battles have continued. Yes, that torturous symptom. Do I need to wee? Am I going to wee my pants? O. M. G. I’ve got to wee! Quick, quick! Oh no… wait… it’s just an invisible fireball of razor blades passing through… never mind! Copious amounts of water along with the little packets of Ural are my staples. Do you know how hard it is to find real cranberry juice?

Besides this minor inconvenience, everything else is on track. I’ve now adjusted my sleeping patterns to sleep on my left side, as apparently it improves blood flow/nutrients to the placenta. Knowing this, I’d feel completely guilty to sleep any other way now. Has anyone mentioned anything about pregnancy guilt?

I’ve had 2 ultrasounds this week. Two very unexpected ones. I woke up in hot sweats and extreme pain during the night. I make my millionth trip to the loo within the hour, when I notice my wee wasn’t the colour it usually was. It’s red. My heart sinks. Stay calm. I consult doctor google while sitting in a warm bath to relieve my pain. Google search: “blood in urine pregnancy 22 weeks” Am I going to die? Are we going to die? I read that it could be nothing serious, but that it also could be. I choose to believe it’s just a pesky infection and brave out the night until I can make a doctors appointment in the morning.

It’s 8am. I haven’t slept. My wee is red. I’m brave. I call the docs; “Sorry, the doctors are completely booked out today.” Hesitation. “May I ask what the concern is?” Well… I’m 22 weeks pregnant and I’ve been peeing blood all night. “Straight to emergency, now!” I hang up the phone, look at hubby and burst out crying. My attempt at being brave has evidently backfired. This can’t be happening. We’re supposed to be driving to Canberra today for a weekend away. Hospitals are too dramatic. Emergency sounds too serious. Maybe I should have gone earlier? We drive in and I’m taken straight through with a catheter inserted in my hand, blood tests, urine samples and my kidneys are scanned. I also get given a sneak peek of little one again. Yep, still a boy. The docs have my thick-manila file sent down from the unit. That overflowing manila folder that haunts me at every appointment.

No, not a baby... just a kidneys.

No, not a baby… just a kidney.

As the hours pass I actually start to feel better. Tired, but better. My kidneys look fine. No proteins have been detected and I am discharged with a renal ultrasound referral and the diagnoses of ‘Hematuria’; which is simply a fancy word for “blood in urine”. Great… another addition to my manila folder.

We pack our bags and drive to Canberra pretending like nothing has happened. It seems I’ve been walking on egg shells for so long that I’ve forgotten how to stride. I’m not brave. I’m terrified. Every waking moment I am so freaking terrified. I no longer exist. I am just a skeleton of my former self. I’m not a person, I’m a reflection. A hollow shell. What am I even doing here? My pieces just don’t fit together anymore. Please… please tell me more about the joys of pregnancy. Please tell me how wonderful it is experiencing life from the inside out. I want to be normal, like everyone else. A glowing, tummy rubbing, annoying, gloating mother-to-be.

Ok, now. Pity-party over. Get on with it. You’re alive. He’s alive. You now have beautiful photos of your kidneys and it was all for free. Suck it up, princess. Nothing is going to change unless you do.

When we are no longer able to change a situation- we are challenged to change ourselves. –Viktor Franki

22 week bump

22 week bump