My Eggo is Preggo!

March 20, 2011 at 12:14 pm | Posted in Pregnancy, Ramblings | Leave a comment

It has been a long time since I have written here, so I may ramble a bit. After seven months, I can finally say that my eggo is preggo! Yes, I am ten weeks pregnant. I have known now for a month and a half, but there are times that it still does not seem real to me. I am also starting to realize that despite all of my prior knowledge on everything pregnancy, baby, hormones, etc, there is still a lot of stuff I don’t know.

One of these new pieces of knowledge I have acquired is the whole pregnancy dating scam. No, I’m not talking about knocked up women trying to meet skeezy losers on match.com. And well, perhaps scam isn’t the best word, but I digress. What I am talking about is the weird system that is used to tell how far along a woman is in her pregnancy. Here is how it works. By the time a home pregnancy test is able to detect that you are pregnant, you have already clocked in about four weeks of pregnancy. However, you have only really been pregnant (egg implanted into the uterus) for maybe a week or so. Huh? What is this time/space travel mumbo jumbo? Well, apparently doctors use the first day of your last period as the “start” of your pregnancy to better predict your due date. So it is sort of like I was “grandfathered in” once I actually found out I was pregnant. It still boggles the mind.

Another thing I never realized is how utterly stupid I would become. Now I have never been the most “together” person, but “pregnancy brain” has brought me to a whole other level. In the past few weeks alone I have lost my wallet, lost my jacket twice, and confused doctors’ appointment among other things. My friend Kara gave me some delightful news. “You will never get your brain back, ever.” Thanks, Kara.

The irony about me becoming more and more stupid is that everyone else all of a sudden seems smarter. People around me have developed supernatural psychic network telling powers. As I told people of my news I would hear comments like, I knew something was up. I was just telling so-and-so that I bet you are pregnant. I am also getting all kinds of gender predictions as if these people were the oracle. Well, they do have a 50% shot at getting it right. I am also getting all kinds of wonderful, unsolicited advice. Most people mean well, I know. Others have this urge to impose upon you what your experience will be, even those who have never had any children. For example, I am tired of hearing about hot I am going to be when I’m in my third semester in the summer. Yes, I know. I will be on freaking fire! You don’t have to remind me. The bottom line is that everyone’s an expert, and I will just have to get used to it. Maybe if I shut up and stop complaining, my shriveled up little pregnancy brain might learn something useful.

Europe, Smiley Faces, Babies and More

September 19, 2010 at 4:56 pm | Posted in Parenthood, Pregnancy | 2 Comments

It has been months since my last post, so I thought I would try to get into the swing of this blogging thing again. A lot has transpired since my last post. Mark and I finally took our dream trip to Europe in June. First, we went to Barcelona for a few days. From there, we hopped on a cruise ship and cruised around Europe. We went to Italy, Greece, France, Turkey, and Monaco. It was a whirlwind. We had talked about going to Europe since we met in 2002. It was wonderful, and truthfully, one of the big reasons I wanted to go was that we always said we would start our family “after Europe.”

Well, Europe came and went. I got off the birth control and got on the vitamins. I became consumed with all of the information on the internet about getting pregnant. I learned that there are truly only two or three days in a month that a woman can get pregnant. I guess in high school, they lied to us that we could get pregnant at the drop of that hat to keep us out of the backseats of cars. Yeah, right. Like that would stop us. Anyway, I also learned that even if you time everything perfectly, there is still, on average, a 20% chance of getting pregnant each month. Here is the question then? How does anyone get pregnant?

But still, I began optimistically. My sister popped out three kids instantly. My childhood BFF got pregnant three times without even trying. Surely my uterus was bulging with fertile fruit.

I decided to be strategic, and I bought one of the Ovulation predictor kits that tell you when you are about to ovulate. It pretty much works like a pregnancy test. You pee on a stick. If you are not about to ovulate, a blank circle appears. If you are about to ovulate within 24 to 36 hours, a smiley face appears. A freakin smiley face! So basically, your whole mood and outlook for the day depends on seeing the smiley face.

Waiting for the smiley face became an obsession. All of the “information” I found on the internet said that women usually ovulate around day 14. Day 14 came and went. So did day 15, and day 16, and day 17. Oh my God. Had my eggs dried up? Was I some sort of freak of nature? I was about to give up when on day 21, I saw the elusive smiley face. I was in disbelief. I immediately grabbed my husband and told him it was “on.” I told close friends (all 350 or so on facebook) that the smiley face had finally arrived. Somehow, I thought that I was really clever, and only a select few would get the reference. Well, I was wrong. Several people asked if I was pregnant or if I was trying to conceive (or as on the lovely message boards I’ve read about pregnancy on the internet, “TTC”). Now everyone knows, and there’s no turning back. But really, how could I be so stupid as to think posting on facebook would be a good idea?

Anyway, the smiley face came and went, and I eagerly marked my calendar and did all of those tracking pregnancy things women are supposed to do when trying to get pregnant. I now know way more about my cervical mucous (yes, I said cervical mucous) than any woman ever should. I read on the internet about early signs of pregnancy, and I had every single one of them! The internet can be a dangerous thing, especially for women who are “TTC.”

And there’s another thing that is baffling. “TTC.” It turns out, there is this whole lingo of acronyms that all of the women on the internet who have had babies or are trying seem to know instinctively. Reading some of these articles and message boards is sort of like trying to decode secret messages, like the ones you wrote your friends in middle school about the boy you liked. Here is what I have learned thus far of this “babynese” language. Of course TTC means “trying to conceive.” OPK means “ovulation predictor kit.” CM stands for “cervical mucous.” DPO stands for “days past ovulation.” There are dozens more, but you get the idea, right?

I also read all of the “advice” about how to better your chances of becoming pregnant. For example, after you have sex, you are supposed to prop your feet up so that the sperm don’t have to move against gravity. I also learned that you should have sex in the morning and that if you crossed your legs and hopped on one foot an hour after the deed, you would have a baby girl. Okay, the last one I made up, but it isn’t that far off from some of the other crap I read. Imagine, all of these grown, intelligent women who own companies and pay bills and run marathons are resorting to near voodoo to get pregnant. Unfortunately, I am now one of them.

Well, the first month passed, and my period came. I was devastated. I had worked so hard! I had done everything right. What if I was infertile? What if I have to spend thousands on in-vitro? What if this was never going to happen. I had to come back down to earth and remembered the “20%” statistic I had read about on one of the more reputable sites. How could I possibly compare my disappointment to all of the women who have tried for years to get pregnant, or those who cannot have children at all?

Another month of smiley faces and cervical mucous and countdowns has come and gone with the same end result. I must learn to be patient. But patience is hard when you have waited 31 years. What if I have waited too long? What is it about this whole babymaking thing that causes women to go completely insane?

My Worst Fear

March 18, 2010 at 11:05 pm | Posted in Bipolar Disorder, Pregnancy | Leave a comment

I have been wrestling with the possibility of being a mom and having a child for a long time. I wonder if I can be patient and handle the stress of being a parent without losing my mind. I know a lot of people talk about losing their minds when raising their children, but I literally mean, I might lose my mind. I recently read an article from a mom that almost perfectly describes my worst fears.

Click here to read the full article.

In this article, the woman who is also bipolar describes what she goes through on a daily basis while raising her kids. Basically, to get through the day, she takes her medication, drinks a few glasses of wine, and smokes marijuana to help her cope. I really respect the woman’s honesty and the bravery it must takes to be so frank. However, I have to truly wonder if managing by drinking wine and smoking marijuana is truly “managing.” I’m sure she is just doing the best she can. However, I don’t want to have to “cope” while raising my kids. Sometimes, I wonder if I would doing a child a disservice because I may not be able to truly handle the responsibility. But I also want a child more than anything. And so the battle continues.

The Journey Begins

March 13, 2010 at 5:35 am | Posted in Bipolar Disorder, Other Topics, Parenthood, Pregnancy, Ramblings | 1 Comment

Those who know me well know that I am spontaneous, unpredictable, and well, kind of flaky. In college, I changed majors like most people change socks.  Before I met and married my husband, I had a series of short relationships, because I changed my mind…a lot. I have had many plans, but due to my fickle nature, most of them did not come to fruition. I am an explorer. However, the one thing that I have always been sure of through my entire life is that I want to be a mother. I remember being four years old and thinking up the names of my future children. I had the perfect one picked out for a little girl: Syrup. It had a nice ring to it. Perhaps this was due to my love of pancakes and Aunt Jemima maple syrup, but I digress.

Well finally, after years of searching for the right man, getting my career in order, and becoming settled, I am ready to start a family. This should be simple right? Sperm and egg. Not rocket science. There is just one thing that makes my situation very different. I have bipolar disorder.

For people who don’t know what bipolar disorder is, I will give you two definitions. The textbook definition says, “Any of the mood disorders typically characterized by periods of mania and depression.” The second definition? “The ability to be on top of the world one minute and in the depths of despair the next, also known as ‘hell on earth.’” Basically, having bipolar disorder sucks. It sucks more for some than for others. Luckily, mine consists of only a moderate amount of suckage. I am fortunate enough to be one of those who was diagnosed fairly early in life. I have a family that recognizes this for what it is, a mental disorder. I am not crazy (though sometimes I do feel that way). I am “different.” I am proud to say that I have been able to live a pretty productive life. I have a good marriage, a loving family, and two master’s degrees. So what is the big deal with taking on parenthood?

The big deal is that it is….PARENTHOOD! I will be responsible for this other person. I will have to make sure they are fed and clothed. Frankly, there are days when I am lucky to do that for myself! I am supposed to be the person that my child can depend on. What if I am having a majorly bad time when my child needs me the most? What if I pass this “thing” on to him or her? What if the medications I am taking hurt my baby? There are so many things to consider….and worry about.

This blog will be about my journey to get past both the physical and mental obstacles of becoming a “bipolar mommy.” I welcome any comments or advice that anyone might give me on bipolar disorder, parenting with bipolar disorder, breastfeeding, diaper changing, poop, placentas, weird birth stories, or whatever may else may come to mind. And so….the journey begins.

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