First Prenatal Visit Today

I'll likely update this post sometime this afternoon, so I can talk about how it went.
**UPDATE at bottom**


Today is my first prenatal appointment. For now I'm seeing a Dr. M, as he is the only obstetrician in my city who attends VBACs. For the record, I cannot be forced into having a repeat cesarean. That would be assault. But they sure as heck can (and will) try to bully and scare me into it.

I've been having a lot of anxiety about this appointment. At my first prenatal with my first pregnancy I had an ultrasound and, according to my dates, "should" have been about 7 1/2 weeks pregnant. The problem was the doctor didn't see what she should see at 7 1/2 weeks. So, I was basically told to go home and expect a miscarriage. Cruel? Yep. Wrong? Also, yep. Because I have longer-than-average cycles, my baby was actually only about 5 1/2 weeks along, so what the doctor saw was absolutely normal, and now that baby is a happy healthy 8 year old princess.

This pregnancy there is also some discrepancy about dates. According to LMP I should be a little over 8 weeks pregnant, but based on onset of symptoms and when I got negative vs. positive tests, it would appear I'm actually more like 6 1/2-7 weeks. So I'm worried I'll hear the same thing, "Go home and expect a miscarriage." 

I'm also worried the doctor won't take HG seriously and won't enable me to try to get ahead of the illness by starting Zofran right away. I've never avoided the ER or hospital during my pregnancies and I'd love it if I could, just this once. That's so hard on my family, too.

My family. Yet another worry. My Sarah, specifically. She's old enough to remember my pregnancies with Caleb and Anna and she loathes them. I can't imagine how traumatic they were for her. She still talks about that sometimes (mostly when Caleb cries about wanting a baby brother). She has lamented the fact that she "loses me" for the entire pregnancy. How sad for an 8 year old girl! Also, since she's a very capable, competent 8 year old girl I'm afraid it's going to be necessary to lean on her a little more than might be healthy.

And as I'm sitting here this morning I feel like I'm on the verge of vomiting for the first time of my pregnancy. Another indicator that I should be 7 weeks, at most.

*********************
My appointment went so much better than I expected! It's a father/son practice and the daughter is the NP. I met Dr. M Sr. and the NP today and loved them both. The doctor basically gave me my VBAC consult right then and there, saying that in his 30 years of practice he felt that VBACs were almost always less dangerous than repeat cesareans, and that the only UR he'd ever witnessed was in a mother who was laboring with her 6th child and had never had a cesarean.

And the biggest news: I got my Zofran. Not only that, but there was a big sign on the wall of the exam room that gave symptoms of HG and said if you're suffering there's help. There's help! That's such a change from my first pregnancy 9 years ago when I had to beg for help in the ER. 

Five stages of grief

This morning I was lying in bed putting off sitting up and facing the nausea when I had a thought: going through HG is similar to going through the five stages of grief.

Denial
I'm not pregnant, that second line was so faint. I won't suffer from HG like last time. Maybe it won't be as bad as last time. Really, last time wasn't even that bad.

Anger
Stupid stomach! Stupid toilet!F* F* F* F*! Damn baby. Why does this crappy medicine wear off HOURS before I can take it again? I hate the doctors, I hate the nurses, I hate the IVs, I hate the ERs. Why can't I just have a freaking normal pregnancy?!

Bargaining
 Okay, maybe if I take these three medicines, then a bite of this and sip of that, it'll stay down long enough  for me to give Anna a bath. Maybe if I suck the lemons harder the HG will go away. God, if I promise never to yell at my kids again and keep my house perfectly spotless will you please take this away? God? Are you there...?

Depression
My breath smells. My hair smells. My clothes smell. My house is a mess. The kids had pop-tarts for breakfast and granola bars for dinner. I have no desire to help with homework. I'm a horrible mother. I can't kiss my husband. I can't stand him to touch me, even, because the smell of his skin makes  my stomach convulse. I'm a horrible wife. God doesn't even care. This is the fourth time He's let me go through this, and obviously there's something I'm supposed to learn but I'm an idiot and have no clue. God hates me. 

Acceptance
Unfortunately, acceptance doesn't come until after baby is born. HG sucks. It's more horrible than even the most horrible words could describe. But, that's what I go through to have babies. Children. Awesome little people whom I love and who love me.

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. John 15:13

Norovirus Wimps

Saw this news alert from my local news station. My first thought was "wimps".  I'm gearing up to spend the next 7-8 months with an illness much worse than a paltry Norovirus. I am fully aware that's a mean thought. Maybe severe calorie restriction is already doing the Mambo in my brain.

And while I'm whining can I just say this week is dragging it's ever-loving feet? I have my eyes set on Monday March 4th at 9am when I can finally start to medicate this poor HG-ridden body of mine. My stomach has retreated and it cowering somewhere behind my spleen and my brain screams at me each time I pick up something to eat.

Of concern to me today: though I am able to eat small amounts (600-700 calories per day) and am NOT yet vomiting, I am losing weight. It makes me fearful of the time when I'll only be taking in a few hundred calories a day and not keeping most of it down.