Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh, My!

It was a horrible weekend. I've been sick. Really sick. Whoever coined the term morning sickness should be thrown up against a wall and shot. Then revived and shot again.

Sorry for not posting yesterday, and this post will be short, too.

I'm too busy sipping Gatorade, trying to stop this spinning in my head.

I lost two pounds over the weekend, which would normally have me jumping for joy. But of course, I'm supposed to be gaining weight, not losing it.

Yes, the doctor is giving me a prescription for Phenergan. I should have taken it when it was offered to me two weeks ago, but I thought I was tough. That's me. Tough as a bag of cotton balls.

Ugh.

So, if you don't hear from me or see me around for a couple of days, it's because I am...er, indisposed. I promise to catch up as soon as I can keep my intestines inside of me.

Doctor, Doctor, Gimme the news.

With much thanks to the late, great Robert Palmer for that one.


So, quick update on yesterday. We love Dr. G. Dr. G has guinea pigs, which completely won over TFYO. Oh, and TFYO is just as we suspected. I was told she is brilliant, incredibly bright, and probably has a very mild autism spectrum disorder, but nothing at the moment that warrants pulling her out of a classroom in which she appears to be thriving. I am relieved. And I now have someone to go to bat for me if the county school system decided to interfere. Dr. G says TFYO has a few quirks, which may need more attention as she gets older, but that compared to other Aspie kids she treats, this is really nothing to get worked up over. I'll have a full written report (with IQ scores, Asperger Diagnostic Scores, etc.) in a couple of weeks. Did y'all hear my big sigh of relief all across the world yesterday?

Also, I have my first OBGYN appointment today. And I'm also scheduled for my first ultrasound. I'm still getting sick several times a day. So far, well meaning people have told me this means: I'm having a boy; I'm having another girl; I'm having twins; or I had too much Mexican food last night.

One of those.

I am a little nervous. The first ultrasound is where you get to see if your little jelly bean is normal. So, of course I've been having bizarre nightmares (which come with being pregnant anyway). I've dreamed the baby has two heads. I've dreamed the baby has my head, staring out at me from the ultrasound. I've dreamed I was pregnant with a cat, which may have been because a cat was standing on me at that moment, trying to get me out of bed to feed it.

So, by the end of the day today, I'll know. And I'll have pictures to prove it's not a cat. Although, those first pictures usually look more like a tadpole.

With my head in my lap...

Lyric courtesy of Squeeze...not really about morning sickness, but close enough.


Morning sickness. I wish I had it. Don't get me wrong, I'm kind of happy I'm not heaving my guts out every moment of the morning, but I've discovered what so many other women who have more than one child have figured out: every pregnancy is different. Sounds like a no-brainer, I know, but it really just didn't dawn on my until now.


When I was pregnant with TFYO, I had the most regular, compartmentalized morning sickness, ever. Six a.m., right on the dot for three months, beginning when I was three weeks along. It was so easy.


I was doing morning drive radio in Charleston at the time, and it fit perfectly into the show clock. I hosted the show, and Ray was the news anchor. I'd start to feel queasy around 5:58 a.m., so I'd wrap my segment, say "WSC news-time is 5:59, here's Ray with the news." I'd close the mic, run down the hall to the bathroom, be sick, rinse my mouth, wash my face, grab some water and be back in my chair in time to say "WSC news-time is 6:06". I'd go on with the show, and I didn't have to worry about being sick for the rest of the day.


So what's different?


Well, I'm not actually getting sick for starters. I'm just queasy from the time I get up until about one o'clock in the afternoon. So, I'm probably not eating as much as I should in the morning. Right now, I can usually choke down a bit of juice, a piece of toast and my prenatal vitamin. I just can't face food.


But come one o'clock you better get the hell out of my way, because you might get eaten along with everything else in my path. Even the cats start getting a little wild-eyed around 1 p.m. I'm ravenous. I eat everything. And that's a problem when I'm at work, because we can't have food in the studios.


After I stuff myself for about six hours, then I'm exhausted. And the process starts all over again the next morning.


The good news is, unlike last time when I had a serious pie and burrito habit (I promise, I'll explain at some point), I haven't really started gaining any weight yet, which means I'm still fitting into my clothes.


So thank you all for your kind words of concern. I'm actually not spending much time praying to the god of all things porcelain. But I kind of wish I was. At least it would be done.

And I promise, no more posts about being ill, okay?