First Trimester Observations

It's been awhile since I've posted, and my return finds me writing a very different entry than I would have predicted when I left off blogging in December.

December marked 5 1/2 years since Steve and I started trying to have a child. I was reaching the end of my rope. Six rounds of IUI, three rounds of fertility drugs, more doctor's visits and diagnostic tests than I can count (which yielded no cause for the problem), and I was ready to be done. I was just so tired of all the poking and prodding and seemingly endless (65 in total by the end) monthly failures. Two weeks after that last round of IUI, I took a pregnancy test as is standard procedure, with little hope in my heart. And thus my reaction to the positive result was to gasp cartoonishly and cover my mouth in shock. It was then I fully realized just how resigned I had become to that day never coming.

I've now made it out of the first trimester. The babies (twins... yeah, I'm panicking a little) appear healthy and growing well. We've listened to their heartbeats, watched them grow across four ultrasounds (and move in the last two), and Steve tracks their progress with an app on his phone. It's a strange and exciting time.

So, on to my first trimester round-up:

I never realized how much food is everywhere until the sight of it started to make me gag. My particular nemesis has been the oft-repeating advertisement for Round Table's pepperoni and bacon pizza. It strikes without warning, usually when I'm watching random junk TV in an attempt to distract me from my nausea, which is really unhelpful.

Poor Steve has gone to the market with ridiculous frequency seeking some kind of food that will sit well with me. When he returned one day with Cup Noodles and dill pickles, which went down well and actually tasted good to me, I nearly cried in relief.

The other food that got me through my worst days: McDonald's. The kids are already gunning for happy meals in utero.

I'd heard that pregnant women start "showing" somewhere around week 12-16. I've been showing since week 9. I'm afraid I'm going to be too enormous to stand on my own before this is all over.

Evidence (end of week 12):

I wouldn't have thought it possible for me to become even less of a morning person, but it turns out automatically vomiting (no matter what I do to attempt to mitigate) when I get up every day has done the trick. That charming "symptom" started midway through week 7.

Steve asked me what my pregnancy nausea feels like as compared to other ailments and the best answer I could come up with was "food poisoning."

The twins take up a lot of blood flow (that is, oxygen) so I get massively winded doing even the simplest physical activity. I can no longer walk and talk at the same time. I have to ask Steve to do a lot for me. I know he loves me and is willing to take (and has taken) care of whatever I need, but I still feel somewhat useless.

Mostly I've spent my days begging the universe to have this pregnancy stick and result in healthy offspring, so I never have to go through this nonsense again.