Archive for January, 2009

I love graph jam.

January 30, 2009

Ruthlessly stolen from Tatiana‘s blog. This was the highlight of my otherwise mundane and weepy day. This and making mean comments about someone Aussie and I know. Oh, and the hash browns, of course!!

more music charts

It’s the ‘to kill you’ that makes me smile every time.


Hash browns turn that frown upside down.

January 30, 2009

Dr. G was wrong about something else, but it works in my favour. He said it would take ‘months’ for the physiotherapy referral to go through; it almost seemed like he was trying to dissuade me. I told him to make a referral anyway, and now I’ve got an appointment for next Friday. Boo yah!

I feel like such an ass. I took a month off for this bloody leg injury. Next Thursday Joy has said I can work from home so I don’t have to worry about coming back in time for my midwife’s appointment. And now next Friday will be a definite half day – if I go in at all. I feel like a terrible employee. I know none of this is my fault, but it still makes me feel bad.¬† If I was still working at Day Job, I wouldn’t give a good goddamn. But I actually like Operation Fingerpaint. *sigh*

In other news, I had a dream about S. Drawl and Juice-ica this morning. This was after eating two McDonald’s breakfast meals TMD ran out to get me. I’ve got this specialist book about expecting twins, and, well, I should be bulking the fuck up. Of course Mc Donald’s is not the answer, but this book does stress that fats are very important in a twin pregnancy – much more so than a singleton.

I’ve lost another pound, so I thought those greasy little hash browns couldn’t hurt.

Also – no vomit yesterday! Some dry heaves (two periods of it), but no food flying out of my mouth! This is miraculous, especially as the puke-a-thon the night before actually involved me screaming – I don’t know why. One second I was puking, the next involuntarily screaming. Literally.

Sil said she was quite sick during her pregnancy. Of course I asked her what this meant in terms of numbers. She said she had vomited 15 times when she was pregnant. I think that as soon as a woman knows the exact number of her sicknesses, she doesn’t know what sick is. After this conversation I did a little mental math and my conservative estimate is that I have gotten sick well over 100 times. Say it with me: awesome.

Um. Erm.

January 28, 2009

The internet erased one of my diary entries. This should be the fourth one I’ve written today.

The second one was titled ‘Dr G can suck my wee’, and featured my dream of having a little punchbag with his face on it. Did anyone see this?

What the hell happened to it? It was there all day today, and now it’s gone.

Beating my breast.

January 28, 2009

Just watching this tv show about a lady who is pregnant with triplets. She was talking about medication – and calling the national helpline to be told, ‘If your leg is falling off, THEN maybe you can take a paracetemol.’

Um, I’ve taken god knows how many of those fuckers. Eight a day for I don’t know how many days. At least a week. And three codeine. Not to mention crossing the road and getting run over.

I am a terrible, terrible mother already. I feel horrid.


January 28, 2009

Warning: crazy pregnancy hormones ahead.

Called the hospital this morning to see why no one had gotten in touch with me yet. After all, I AM growing babies in my tummy. They said I should have seen a midwife already – and I do this by making an appointment at my doctor’s office. My dipshit doctor – fucker – had previously told me no one would get in touch with me until I was 12 weeks pregnant and I didn’t need to do anything.

Fucking idiot. What the fuck would have happened if I hadn’t rung the hospital because I don’t totally trust the doctor? The referral isn’t even in the hospital system yet.

So I made the latest appointment to see the midwife I could next Thursday – it still means a half day at work. Then I called to book my 12 week scan. As soon as I hung up I realised I booked it for a Tuesday, which is when TMD is at university. FUCK. Tears threaten. Have texted her to see if I should rebook or what, but she’s at some conference today so god only knows when she will get in touch.

All of this seems totally overwhelming to the emotional side of me, while the logical side realises there is No Big Deal here. I’m trying to integrate both sides, but yowza. TMD will want to be at the scan. The earliest they do is at 12 – so another half day (or less) at work. After taking a month off for my stupid leg, all this extra time off makes me feel like an asshole.

Lucky number ten.

January 26, 2009

1. Still off work. This marks the start of week #4. I will be back at work by next Monday at the latest, so help me God.

2. Went to our niece’s Christening yesterday. I assume you capitalise things when they involve renouncing Satan? Anyway, we sat at the very back of the cathedral so I could eat the entire service – and also run outside to puke on their multi-million pound/dollar/whatever lawn if needed. We sat across the aisle from Bil and Sil’s Jewish neighbors, who also spent the whole time feeding their son. TMD and I couldn’t decide if we were the heathen section or the picnic section; in fact, perhaps the two are not mutually exclusive.

3. Bil has told all of his friends we are pregnant with twins, even though we said SHH TOP SECRET to him. They were all loudly congratulating us in front of TMD’s family. This was a little awkward, but we escaped discovery.

4. I’ve not heard from the hospital yet regarding the booking in appointment or the twelve week scan. Going to call them tomorrow. I have a phobia about checking voicemail AND about making phone calls, it would appear. Called Dr. Shitface today to extend my sick¬† note and get a referral to physiotherapy, and was beyond relieved to hear he couldn’t call back until tomorrow – despite the fact that the referral should have been made eons ago.

5. My leg is wacked. I did a ‘lot’ of ‘walking’ yesterday at the Christening. (Christ claims you for his own!) Translated this means relying heavily on the crutches to walk about three minutes. This exertion has left my leg semi-dead and very stiff.

6. Sil gave me lots of maternity clothes. Yipee! Including a nice pair of jeans that I will have to start wearing now, as in about three weeks time (if that) I reckon they won’t fit anymore.

7. I have finally managed to weigh myself. I was curious to do this because my body is turning into a flobby (the perfect word) garbly mess. Turns out I’ve not gained weight. I’ve not stayed the same. No, folks, I’ve LOST weight from all the upchucking. Nice.

8. I watched a tv show about IVF this morning and just kept crying. Throughout the whole pregnancy thing I have been wondering why I do not feel more special, or pregnant, or mom-ish. My reaction to the IVF programme obviously indicates there is a lot going on under the surface, even if I appear to be disbelieving that there are babies in my stomach. My nipples, vomit, and poochy tummy provide proof things are happening (a disco party? hair braiding? basketball games?) and I STILL DON’T BELIEVE IT. I don’t know if this is normal or what.

9. Nine weeks two days pregnant today.

Part two.

January 22, 2009

When I moved from the bedroom to the lounge this morning, I had to carry my Important Things in a novel way, thanks to the crutches.

Yes, I shoved my chapstick, phone, and giant tupperware box full of crackers (AKA nausea-fighters) deep into my underwear. And this seemed perfectly normal and reasonable.

Part one.

January 22, 2009

Every night I get violently sick. It doesn’t matter if I eat dirt or gourmet food – I will vomit. Unfortunately, my new invalid schedule means that TMD helps me bathe in the evenings….right smack around the time I know I’ll get sick. We consequently keep a sick bowl in the bathroom, which she will hand me when I get that crazed look in my eyes.

I throw my head back, start dry heaving, and the magic bowl is thrust into my hands. I heave my guts out for about five minutes straight, sometimes accompanied by my Hell Voice screaming instructions at her, sometimes by me crying. Last night in the midst of the sickfest, well…I’m not sure what happened.

I think I held the bowl out a little from my face, because the smell can be enough to make me puke another 50 times whether I ‘need’ to or not. The bowl slipped.

I spilled vomit all over my left foot.

When I lifted my ass to allow the water from behind me to move forward and wash my foot, the large pool of vomit rebounded and started to head back at me. Thank god these crutches have buffed my arms up a little, because I had to hold my fat pregnant self up while vomit water swirled beneath me, I still had thick streaks of saliva all over my face, and I could feel chunks of chili between my toes.

This is my life.

Baby belly.

January 20, 2009

Well, I’m showing. Yes.

I have been ‘thickening up’ for a few weeks now, but all day today I’ve been touching my belly. Right over the pubic hair line, where it is normally flat (if I’m lying on my back, let’s be real) or ‘gently sloped’ if I’m standing. Now I have what TMD and I call a ‘shelf.’

Directly where hair meets skin, my belly pops out a little. And today it’s been out without question. No little slope, no nice fat pad. A pokey outty line where mons ends and babies begin. I always wanted a bump. With twins I knew I’d get one earlier.

I’ve been reading about how you look full term at 25 weeks, how women are begging for c-sections by the end because their stomachs are very painful and the skin feels like it’s going to split, how people have difficulty moving around in the 20-30 week range. I’ve now made an executive decision to stop reading that shit – particularly once I found out about a phenomenon called ‘twin skin.’ Yikes!!!

I don’t know if the casual observer could see my belly.

Thanks to The Accident, I’ve been wearing oversize pajamas for the last two weeks. I wonder what normal clothing would be like. Two weeks ago I had to have my pants completely unzipped with a Bella Band on. I suspect I will need maternity stuff soon. Sil is giving me a bunch next weekend, thank god.

I totally need a coat. I am tempted to say I look like someone ‘not quite there’ mentally in my current coat, as it only buttons on the top two buttons – with a lot of twisting and buckling. Thank Jesus for being confined to the house, huh? And the crutches with the small arm holes that wouldn’t fit a coat?

And in other news, I just saw The Beard.

8 weeks 3 days preggo with two eggos.

January 20, 2009

In my limited experience of pregnancy, I’d have to say that each experience is different. In some ways, I think I’m getting off lucky with my symptoms. In others, I think – ‘Jesus CHRIST, I’m throwing up all the time!’

This is my twin pregnancy: I’ve been lying on the couch for three weeks now due to The Accident. This means I can take naps at will, focus on eating, and just generally rest emotionally and physically. I can’t compare what this pregnancy would be like if The Accident hadn’t happened. This is the experience as I’ve had it.

A big boil next to my nose (awesome), huge red patches of dry skin on other parts of my face (awesomer), and a wee little golden beard that TMD said the light glinted off last night (awesomest!). I’m throwing up 1-2 times a day, and having horrid dry heaving 1-2 times a day as well. A lot of bad nausea at all hours of the day. Sore boobs, bright nipples, veins so luminous the skin barrier appears to be disappearing. They are now on my abdomen as well. I also have The Dizzies now and then.

None of this particularly bothers me. The cosmetic stuff is merely that – surface level things that don’t really matter. The nausea is a bit more, well, gross. You know how sometimes when you throw up you can’t catch your breath between heaves? That’s me, every night after dinner. Last night it happened in the bathtub. I’m waiting excitedly for the time I manage to make TMD throw up in sympathy; her gag reflex has kicked in on a few occasions, and now I’m not allowed to talk about throwing up because it makes her nauseous. Hell YEAH.

I find myself getting increasingly obnoxious, particularly at bathtime (am I a toddler myself?) because of the accompanying pain from The Accident.

TMD: Boy, my muscles hurt.
Me: You get run over by a fucking motorcycle and THEN you can talk about your muscles hurting.

TMD: Boy, I’m tired.
Me: Tired? You get pregnant with twins and THEN you tell me how fucking tired you are.


TMD: (nothing. quietly sitting minding her own business)
Me: *sobbing* You’d better appreciate me! And these babies! Look what I’m doing! I’m all fucking sick from carrying YOUR unborn children!

Yeah. It’s probably a good thing I’m locked away in the house. I still can’t believe I’m still off work. The muscle pain continues to improve; nerve pain still there, but also not as intense. I can now reliably manage to take myself to the bathroom most of the time. I can also put weight on The Leg to help me stand up. I think the real problem now is that the muscle has contracted. I can’t straighten my leg and put my foot flat on the floor when I’m standing. I think I need to start some stretches or something. Three weeks of not using the muscle can’t be good, hey?

Haven’t heard anything from the hospital yet – I’m hoping an appointment letter for the 12 week scan will come through sometime soon. In the meantime, I’m going to watch Obama’s inauguration today, write Christmas thank yous, perhaps send Christmas cards to those who did not get cards (we ended up sending NONE because of the whole IVF/pregnancy thing). It’s all a bit awkward as only a very limited number of people know about the babies. This leaves us with no real excuse for ignoring everyone at Christmas. (Sunbonnet Sue, I think of how I have not sent you a card like every day. No lie.)

One good thing is that TMD has put this shit I call ‘Napalm’ on my nose-boil. It’s essentially cream for diaper rash, but it’s awesome for spots. It’s turned the giant boil into a tasty little scab. I’ve liked scabs since I was a kid. I find myself touching The Scab like three times an hour. Delicious!