Pregnancy & Pintercrack

I am so bored.

I am so nesting.

My husband is doomed.  At least his sanity is.

This pregnancy has been a unique experience for us, full of unique challenges and learning experiences -- says the girl typing this blog posts with an IV in her arm.

I have always been an obsessive compulsive nester in my pregnancies, and I do not use the term loosely or as a joke.  It is compulsive, as many of my unique little NEEDED behaviors are LOL.  Nesting is sorta perfect for my OCD tendencies (I do not have the full blown disorder) and ADD.  I cannot sustain the overly ambitious projects I launch, and I don't need to with nesting projects.  They are shortish termish.

But what do you do when you can't?

Well, you make yourself (and your long suffering husband) insane.

My house is *shudders* horrible.  We intend to move before this baby really has a room of their own anyway, so I never planned to do a room here for him or her.  Now?  Now I am infused with the need to.

I need to clean.  My wash is piling up.  Despite Bunyan's best efforts you cannot remove my ability to do everything I was doing from the scheme of things and maintain this house.  In a way it is a little affirming to realize how important I am in the functioning of this home and family.

Its also hell on earth when I can't do anything.

So I have begun trying to find ways to fulfill my desperate need to DO something and combine it with my complete inability to do much.  I mean how much cleaning can I do when my BP is a hawt mess, I am constantly weak and sick ... oh and the stupid IV pole.

God bless Pintercrack.  I have officially taken pinning-with-no-intention-of-execution to all new heights my friends.  I have a board about knitting, its hilarious.  I have a board about quilting.  I can't quilt, and I have no real intention of learning to.  I have a ton of pins for organizing my minivan ... the one I don't own.  Yet.  My dignity is marching up to that guillotine soon enough.  I have a board devoted to balloon stuff, I have a life threatening latex allergy and could never want this stuff.  I even have a board for Tom Hiddleston.  Basically, I have a board for anything that is NOT food.

I can't do food.  Not for like another five months.  (I have food boards, lots of food allergy related ones, but I just don't look at them now.)

In all of these random obsessive searches to compose boards thoroughly versed in awesomeness I came across the granddaddy of OCD and ADD in planner form.  Erin Condren.  I have always had a thing with planners.  I have lots of them and I have tried a million types of them, usually to find that I am caught up in the fury of the moment and have like this totally awesome month ... then never stick with it.  I need something that will captivate me in more than one way and will actually visually keep my attention.  Granted, these ain't cheap so this is a gamble in light of my previous failings with sticking with ... well, anything.  But here's hoping.  I figure with the fact I may have another 5 months of butt-sitting I might have all of my 2015 planned out and should get at least some use out of it.

Of course I made a board about it too.

Online shopping was a bad thing to discover though.  I wound up purchasing the planner and some accessories from Erin Condren.  Then I searched Pintercrack for ideas ... because that is what I do these days.  There where whole Etsy shops devoted to stickers, inserts, and washi glory to feed my fire.  So I spent some money there too ... then I realized Etsy is like a goldmine ... eventually I purchased a whole new wallet for the envelope system we utilize (the irony here being we do it because it saves us money! Ha ha ha ha ha!!!) and a bunch of baby stuff before I curbed my need.

I sat back and happily smiled at my tablet thingy, feeling sure that this binge of organizing based purchases would keep me content for a while, I would be good to go!

Wait ... I just made a bunch of custom orders.  CUSTOM.  This ain't Amazon people, with free two day shipping.

Sigh.

I bought much of this stuff weeks ago.  I am still waiting for the perfectly reasonable shipping times that the shops clearly stated for them.  I am the moron, they are doing their jobs and many of them are doing more than one job.

So I threw myself into the HG Treatment Series for a few weeks.

Now I am done with that.

So I am pinning quilts and minivan organizers and wondering if I will get unsick of the mundane soon.  I used to think I would kill for nothing to do ... it is nice for like two weeks friends, then when you can't do anything you start wanting to climb walls (but can't) and talking to yourself even more than you did.

Yeah, my sanity may be a thing of the long gone past by the time I have this kid, not to mention my husband's.

Hyperemesis Gravidarum: what NOT to say!

Irony of ironies, I have barely been able to post the myriad of things I have wanted to, including wrapping the editing of the post where I announce my pregnancy, because I have been too sick.

So, by the way, I'm pregnant.  Yay!

I have always said I was a princess, but man, Hyperemesis Gravidarum just wasn't the thing I wanted to check off in that box as proof.  Not only to Duchess Kate and I hypothetically bond over illness, but this same illness is the reason we publicly announce our pregnancies.  HA!

It is hard to talk about HG when you are actively in the throws of it.  Go figure, talking about puking is hard when that is all you can do.  So I'll not tell you much right now about how I am doing or what this journey has been for me personally, but I will.  Just when I am better.  Presently I am 14 weeks and the clouds are lifting enough that I find this post possible, a few weeks ago it simply wasn't.

This is part hormonal, nauseated, angry rant with a dash of begging and education thrown in for good measure.  And lots of GIFs because they make me happy.

In no particular order because anyone of these if grounds for me aiming at you when I get sick for the 100th time today ...

1. "Oh I had morning sickness too!"

Morning sickness is crummy, I make no bones about it.  But HG is not morning sickness, though by medical definition it is often referred to as "severe morning sickness."  Let me put it this way, if you can count the number of times a day you get/got ill this is NOT the thing to say to me.

2. "Have you tried crackers/ginger/Preggie Pops/Seabands/some-weird-wives-tale/etc.?"

If one more person suggests ginger in any form {typing paused because I actually had to gag and dry heave over this} ... in a word, yes.  Yes.  I have tried all of that.  Desperately. Repeatedly.

3. "Oh my gawd, this one time when I was pregnant I threw up in...."

Do not talk about up-chuck in any form.  Not only do I not care, because that requires energy I do not have, I also cannot take hearing it.  Its also pretty freaking weird but for some reason people seem compelled to tell me.  I have managed to christen every receptacle typical for catching illness and many never intended for acts so vile.  We can swap horror stories some other day, for now please just shhhh.

4. "Have you tried just forcing yourself to eat or drink?"

Seriously?  I am trying not to drop F-bombs here but this one is hard not to reply with a good ol' "eff you" too.  Scientific question: what would happen if you tried to spray a garden hose UP Niagara Falls?  Same dif here.

5.  "But doesn't taking medicine while your pregnant make you nervous?  What if your kid has like a third eye because of that?!"

You're asking the wrong questions.  What if my child is so malnourished that s/he doesn't make it?  What if I am so malnourished or dehydrated that I go into preterm labor or miscarry?  What if both my baby and I don't make it, because that happens with HG?  I hate taking medicine, but without them I wouldn't have gotten this far.  It scares me, but not taking them scares me a lot more.

6. "Oh I understand!  When I was pregnant I would hurl the second I even saw *insert food item here* much less smelled it!"

I am sure that was awful, and I say that without too much snark.  I had that in prior pregnancies and it sucked then.  But here's the thing, I don't vomit because of seeing or smelling food, though that is a sure fire way to make me sick. I am sick no matter what.  Sometimes I can't even talk because the act of opening my mouth and activating my vocal chords does it for me.  I cannot swallow my spit half the time.

7. "I gained 30 lbs when I was pregnant, you're lucky to be losing some!"

Or anything like this.  Anything that comments on my weight loss as though it is some kind of GIFT makes you an undisputed asshole.

8. "Well you haven't lost that much weight."

Seriously, if you were an asshole on #7 this makes it even worse.

If you are looking at me and thinking I haven't lost that much weight chances are you are seeing how puffy and bloated the medication I am taking has made me.  Or even better, and way more TMI but you -- special snowflake that you are -- deserve it: Maybe my tummy is so large because the medication that they have pumped me full of makes it utterly impossible to poop.  Yup.  I am so damned constipated that my entire GI track is as backed up as a LA free way at 5 PM on a weekday.  What I manage to get down may never come out again!  So my tummy IS huge and I AM maintaining weight temporarily, but its not a good thing either.

9. "Oh I bet you are so sick because you're having a boy/girl this time!"

I admit, I have always joked (as a mother of only boys) to my girl friends who have had girls and are uncomfy through their pregnancies that it has to be that they are having a girl causing their misery.  "After all," I tell them, "two women can never occupy a confined space in peace!" so they MUST be having a girl. I swear, I will never say this again.

I have been assured I am having a girl this go-round because of my pathetic state more times than I can count.  Wives tales and gut feelings aside, HG has no known cause, cure, or even a sure-fire treatment plan.  The gender of my child is not what is making me so ill, even if it winds up coincidentally matching your theory.

10.  "Bet this will be your last baby now, eh?"  

I admit, now is NOT the time for me to discuss ever being knocked up again.  But I find any questions like this rude and nauseating when I am not in my current state, why are you inquiring about this at all you nosy weirdo?

Because actually screaming would mean
I have to open my mouth ...

Between the sickness, and the resulting exhaustion and weakness I have experienced as a result, I have not been up to a whole lot.  Sitting up at the computer is actually a challenge.  So whether you found this because YOU are going through HG (hugs and sympathy!) or because a loved one is, hang in there.  My thoughts and prayers are with you.

more on Tom and Vitamixes

Dear Tom,

This is in no way a Dear-John letter.  Say the word and I will pour your tea for life honey.  (Please note if you read this and you are my actual husband that I love you and will pour your tea too.)

Its just that previously I went on the record with the assertion that it was either you OR the Vitamix I have desperately wanted for about three years.  Well, I got the blender.  Words like "awesome!" or "in-freaking-credible!" don't even come close to describing it or the size of my guilt stricken panic attacks at the cash register.  I knew what it would cost, we have been planning for it for a long time because we knew that our families dietary needs were not the norm.  We knew we'd have to jump the gun on this one eventually, so we did.

In no way does it lessen my devotion to you, however.

I swear I could blend a brick down to pudding, and it is officially the only dang thing in my house that isn't me AND cleans up after itself.  I have had it for a few days now and used it at least three to four times each day and I get a little excited each time.

I remember when I read the whole Twilight saga (don't judge) that there was a part where Bella was bemoaning the pain she didn't even knew she felt when she wasn't in the presence of the sparkly dude who suddenly gave her talent-less-klutzy-ass value and meaning.  I remember the scene was with him coming to the door or something and she was like all relieved, that being in his presence alleviated something for her.  I also remember rolling my eyes a little here -- even though I know I feel infinitely happier in the presence of my husband, the whole needy desperate tone was just too much to not have to look at the inside/back of my skull for a moment.  I judged.

I no longer judge, because the Vitamix does this to me too now.  It is my sparkly, emo, vampire with fabulous hair and questionable hygiene.

Don't get me wrong, I am sure that you would be too if I ever had the pleasure of actually meeting you.

Did you know that ice can actually be creamy?  Like if you blend it fast enough... no, wait, even more "OMG" moment for me: do you know where powdered sugar comes from?

Not something I ever gave any thought too.  Back when my children and my genetics had not yet betrayed me and I could buy cake mixes and boxed brownies I would splurge and buy powdered sugar to make my thirty minutes and three ingredients concoctions look fancier and more home-made-ish.  I always marveled at how it was more expensive than normal sugar and assumed this was because it was like a special cane or something.  Like it had to be harvested on a full moon by elves riding unicorns or something.

Nope.  They just take regular ol' granulated sugar and blend the shat out of it.  Am I the only person who didn't know that?!

I tried to make mashed potatoes yesterday.  It was just soup when I was done, but I proudly presented my mistake to my family, whom thought it was the most delicious potato soup they'd ever had.  Seriously, as a family with a million dietary restrictions and *finger quotes here* issues *end finger quotes* I don't know how we could live without it anymore!

We named it.  I name all my appliances and other stuff too.  It is Gandalf the Grey.  Because it is actually grey ... and it can do magic.

Anyway, my beloved, it has been said by many poets and other smart people that love is infinite and stuff.  So, like, I take that to mean that while my love for you has not lessened my heart is capable of even more love and devotion now with Vitamix in the house.  I'm like the Grinch, y'all.  My heart grew three sizes the other day.

In closing I would like to reaffirm my love and devotion to your hotness, and point out that this is in no way one of those affiliate blogpost type things where I get a kickback or was paid to wax poetic about the awesome beauty that is my high powered blender.  However, if you are either Tom Hiddleston (call me!) or a representative of Vitamix interested in showering me with more Vita-love ... well either way, call me!

With love, respect and all that other stuff,

Me

P.S. I really hope all my gifs work!!