I Feel Good – Something Must Be Wrong

I have no idea what is going on with my body.

By the time I was six weeks pregnant with Ane, I had started vomiting on a daily basis. You want to know what was happening in May of 2003? Sorry, I haven’t got a clue. I was too busy worshipping at the great white porcelain throne and keeping it scrupulously clean. There’s really almost nothing worse that throwing up into a dirty toilet. I finally recovered at about fourteen weeks.

With Tad, I started throwing up at seven weeks – Christmas evening, as a matter of fact – and was less sick than I had been the first time around, which was a mercy. Still, there were times when I was throwing up, clutching the bowl with one hand and holding a twelve-month-old Ane back with the other. And at about fourteen weeks, I was finally back to my old self.

This time around, I started feeling intense nausea around six weeks. I knew the end was nigh. When seven weeks hit, I had some very close calls. Still, by paying attention to when I was hungry and eating protein-laden foods, I was doing pretty well. I knew it couldn’t last, but I was hanging in there.

And then at eight weeks, the nausea… lessened. HUH???

At nine weeks, it STOPPED. What. The. $%#*@???

Today, I’m at ten weeks, and I feel digustingly good. I’m also worried that there is something seriously wrong with me. I should be hunched over the toilet, vomiting my brains out and keeping inquisitive children at bay.

Instead, I was able to make lasagna for dinner last night, along with Tiramisu Toffee Torte for dessert, for Doc’s birthday, and have Friend, Doc, the Brain, Head, and Best Baby-sitter over for said meal without feeling totally wiped out, sick, or nauseated. I even did the dishes.

Like I said, something is just WRONG here.

The Webmaster is convinced that my body is just dealing better with pregnancy each time it happens. That’s a theory I could actually buy into. My first pregnancy was filled with strange happenings besides the extreme nausea and vomiting – I broke out in rashes, ran dangerously close to being diabetic, and finished it all off with a dramatic birth that nearly had me being crash C-sectioned. Looking back at all the drama, I should have known what kind of kid I’d be getting. I mean, this is Ane we’re talking about!

My second pregnancy was less dramatic. Less vomiting, no rashes – just less work all the way around. I was convinced I was having a boy. At 20 weeks, I found out I was right. Now, when I have to answer questions about my pregnancy and Tad’s birth for his evaluations – something they always ask when dealing with a developmental delay – I just say, “Nothing happened. It was a textbook pregnancy and delivery.”

I talked with my mother about this yesterday, and she said, “Maybe you’re having another boy.”

I honestly don’t have a gut feeling about this one being a boy or a girl. All I know is, this one is sure taking it easy on me. I could use an “easy” kid, considering his/her siblings.

Or this might be the biggest case of in-the-womb fake-out in the history of the world.

This entry was posted on Monday, October 6th, 2008 at 1:07 am and is filed under Mommyhood.
You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed and Both comments and pings are currently closed.