23 Weeks Pregnant: Daily Walks, My Husband Away During the Week, A Forced Visit to the Naturopath, Planning a "Babymoon," Ruminations, Worries About the Future, and Was That It Moving or Am I Having Weird Indigestion?

Current mood . . .

I honestly never thought I'd make it this far into the pregnancy. After years and years and years of trying to get pregnant, having a miscarriage, and then being told the mournful statistics of how unlikely it was for me to have  a live birth from each round of IVF at my age by my reproductive endocrinologist, Dr. Hudson (28% chance of a live birth at my age), I just kind of assumed I'd have to try several rounds of IVF or that I'd get pregnant and miscarry again or that I'd just never be pregnant again. Being already pessimistic, going to law school, practising law for years, and then having years of bad luck really did a number of me. But here I am, 23 weeks pregnant today from a single round of IVF at the Victoria Fertility Centre.

This week, I have been experiencing continuing ups and downs with sleep (including nightmares, trouble getting comfortable, having to go pee really often through the night, and sometimes waking from panic attacks). My ears keep plugging and unplugging. This seems to be an extension of my congested sinuses that couldn't be connected to those two colds anymore and must in fact be from all the increased blood flow that I'm experiencing because of pregnancy (congested sinuses and ears are common in the second and third trimester). My hands seem to be more swollen than they were and I'm wondering how long it will be before I have to take off my wedding ring and engagement ring. My shape is changing steadily with each passing week too. I've had a bit of eczema acting up this week (some women get eczema acting up, while others notice an improvement during pregnancy).

On the advice of my perinatal psychiatrist, who told me that I need to get out of my head and house more and walk every day, I have been walking every day (except for over last weekend when my husband was at home and I wanted to spend every precious moment with him before he left again for the week, plus I was exhausted). I must say that while it's been nerve racking leaving the house, on some days more so than others, it has felt good once I am out of the house. While I started with a few kilometers per walk, I went up almost immediately to 6.5 km most days and even did 9 km on Wednesday (but that was overdoing it, as I was even more sore and was so exhausted the next day that I could only walk a couple of kilometers).  My hips and legs have been sorer than they would usually be going for long and brisk walks (and it's hard to be as brisk as I used to be between hauling around extra weight and gasping for air while being pregnant), however, it seems to make me less uncomfortable at night in bed when I go for a walk that day.

With views like this a walk seems like a reward on a sunny day.

Another benefit to the regular walks is that I have been sleeping much better on days when I go on long walks than on days when I don't walk or go or a short walk (like last night when I slept just 4 hours). The beauty of the walks I can go on near to my house is breathtaking (and that's not just the breathlessness of pregnancy). I have been watching early spring come to Victoria, including spotting the first cherry blossoms in my area two days ago. I don't mind it when it rains much and I've been lucky lately (especially considering that I have no raincoat that fits). I would say that the daily "exposures" to my anxiety over leaving the house (exposure therapy is used to treat panic disorder and anxiety by forcing a patient to do exposures where they face their fears by doing what they're afraid of repeatedly until it becomes less scary and then hopefully not scary at all- this is one of the most effective treatments for panic disorder and one that I had do extensively a few years ago when I was first diagnosed with panic disorder) have been beneficial in more than one way (sleep, less restless uncomfortable feelings at night, a mood boost, and lower anxiety). I have also had a friend come on a couple of walks and having someone to talk to other than the cat has been a treat (since my husband is away all week for work).

There's a herd of deer that spends the spring and summer in the Ross Bay Cemetery.

They make themselves at home.

The first cherry blossoms that I spotted this year.

I would say that even having my husband away all week, every week, has been easier to deal with since I've been walking daily. My psychiatrist is right that getting out of my place and seeing something other than this place has been good for me. A man even stopped to tell me a joke in the graveyard when I was wandering through there the other day alone and this gave me a laugh and a brief fleeting moment of social interaction when I otherwise would have had none.

I've been craving fruit like crazy.

My husband made me delicious blueberry pancakes last weekend before he left again.

I received a message over the weekend from my old naturopath (the one that my husband and I went to for months and months and received supplements and acupuncture from in the hopes of avoiding IVF and conceiving "naturally," only to find that we had to get IVF after all). She said that in order to keep selling me the prenatal vitamins that I buy from her (and sometimes probiotics too), she would have to see me for a follow up visit, since it had been almost a year and "the college" requires naturopaths to do this (all I could think was what?! They require an annual visit to dispense multivitamins and yet they let all this other crazy stuff that we read about in the newspaper happen with naturopaths? Shouldn't they focus on making sure naturopaths advise people, including parents of seriously sick children to get medical advice when they need it, instead of giving them herbs or whatever and in some cases having tragic things occur?!). But I digress. Since I like the prenatal vitamins that she has there (they have real folate instead of folic acid and some people may have difficulty converting folic acid into folate and since she got me scared about this a year and a bit ago, I've only taken folate to be on the safe side- I can't help the risk aversion being a recovering lawyer), I scheduled a visit.

Having to go for an unnecessary visit made me grouchy.

I was told that my visit to the naturopath could be quick, but of course it ended up being not quick. I was there 45 minutes updating her on what medications I'm taking (still all the same) and how the pregnancy is going (normal, maternity doctor has no concerns at all). While she does have some interesting nutritional suggestions (she really got my husband and me onto turmeric last year), some things really annoy me. One example was when I told her that I had managed to get a few okay sleeps with daily walking and she said in that smug manner that all people who have had children before seem to use "well enjoy it while you can because you won't be resting for the next few years." (chuckle, chuckle). No, it's not funny, especially when you suffer from bipolar disorder and a series of bad sleeps can trigger an episode. I don't need to be any more terrified of being a parent than I already am. Anyone expecting a child, unless they are the calmest person in the world or delusional, is terrified about the future, they don't need your sanctimonious and smug laughter and stories to scare them more. It's not helpful, just leave out comments like that. Everyone knows that new parents don't sleep well. Sorry you didn't get a gold medal for your sleep deprivation, but there's no need to boast about it to me because I'm not going to give you an award either.

Another example of an annoying thing in my appointment with the naturopath was when she started in on breastfeeding counselling. I told her that because I'm on lithium carbonate for bipolar disorder (which she had just confirmed that I was still taking), unfortunately I will only be allowed to breastfeed for a couple of weeks to give the baby the colostrum and then I will have to feed the baby formula. She initially seemed to protest, until I reminded her that lithium carbonate can be toxic and that when we can't test the levels in an individual they are dangerous. Despite this, she prattled on and on about strategies for breastfeeding and co-sleeping. As if I don't feel bad enough that I won't be able to breastfeed my child when everyone in my family has harped on and on about it my whole life. I already feel like a failure (even though according to research, I shouldn't feel a failure, and this is more common of an issue than people talk about due to the militant breastfeeding shaming in our society that currently occurs).

She took my blood pressure and pulse and confirmed what my doctor always says that I do NOT have high blood pressure and that I seem perfectly healthy.

Quit prodding at me and give me my prenatal vitamins.

At the conclusion of the appointment, which I was trying to rush along, as I had really had enough, she gave me a packet of various articles on pregnancy and a recipe for an easy cereal to make ahead of time for eating while I'm trying to feed the baby in the morning and beseeched me to come back in my third trimester. She also tried more than once to tell me that I should have a doula present with me when I deliver despite the fact that I have a doctor and I'll be delivering in a hospital (years of law school and practising personal injury and medical malpractice ensured that I would choose this route for childbirth). The whole interview was kind of annoying, but at least it's over with and I have some articles to read and a couple of recipes I could try if I needed to. I'm not opposed to approaching health and pregnancy in as well rounded a way as possible, I just don't like it when I'm made to feel guilty for having an incurable mental disorder which requires me to be on a particular medication for life and that medication makes me unable to breastfeed. What am I supposed to do? Go off of my lithium and then destablize, get hospitalized in the psychiatric ward again (this time pregnant), and spend the remainder of my pregnancy there and get put back on psychotropic drugs, or worse yet, wander off, do harm to myself, and then have an even worse tragedy occur? No thanks, I'll stay on my prescribed psychotropic drug that is effective for treating my potentially lethal mental disorder and I will follow my specialist's advice. Yes, it's too bad I can't breastfeed, but that's life, and I might not have a life if I didn't take lithium carbonate (bipolar disorder has the highest suicide rate of any mental disorder).

I spent a good part of this week making lists for our trip, finalizing accommodations (quite difficult on some of the more remote islands in French Polynesia and requiring me to start polishing up my rusty French), communicating with various travel insurance providers over specifics of their travel insurance policies as related to pregnancy, and starting to make piles of stuff to bring (and trying on bathing suits- nope those won't work, I'll have to go shopping). I'm anxious to go on vacation while I'm pregnant, but I'm also excited. I think the time away and intensive time with my husband will be very good for me. I can't believe we're going back to French Polynesia, where we had our honeymoon nine years ago, to have our last vacation before the baby comes. Read more about the vacation (or "babymoon" as some people call it) on our travel blog, Two Restless Wanderers.

As beautiful as spring in Victoria is, I'm looking forward to French Polynesia.

I will miss him though.

But being in French Polynesia again will make up for missing my kitty.

I had a lot of trouble falling asleep last night. I couldn't get comfortable despite all the pillows (including the rip off defective maternity pillow from eBay that the crook seller refused to refund) and only sharing the bed with the cat (who takes up roughly 1/3 to 1/2 of the king size bed). I had a bit more caffeine than usual yesterday and a bit later than usual, so maybe that contributed, but I couldn't stop worrying about things that could go wrong on the trip, where we're going to live when we have the baby or what if we still have to keep living here, and thinking about my family. I don't think the pregnancy book that I was reading before bed helped, it was going on about preparing the baby's room in the part I was reading last night, letting your partner paint it, etc. The book also irritatingly keeps talking about how you should not be surprised when your mother is obsessed with your pregnancy and keeps talking to you about it, giving you suggestions, and talking about when she was pregnant with you or when you were a baby.

What if no one in your family talks to you or takes any interest in your pregnancy? What if your mother is dead, is a alcoholic or drug addict, is incapacitated by a mental disorder, or is generally absent from your life? Why do almost all the pregnancy books I've read keep going on and on and on and on about how your family will react and all saying the same thing? Not everyone comes from a functional family or a family at least that will take any interest in a pregnancy. Some of us either don't have one or more parents, have parents who are addicted to alcohol or drugs, have mental disorders, and/or can't or won't be actively involved in their pregnancy.

What the books are saying makes me feel even more alone, even though I know I'm not alone. Rates of drug and alcohol abuse in the world are extremely high (and this is with them being underreported) and mental disorders impact many families (and underdiagnosis means that more people are impacted by them than official numbers would indicate). Plus some families are just assholes. Not everyone is going to have someone asking them about their latest ultrasound (or any of them), wanting to know what the sex of the child is, giving helpful suggestions or commiserations over what's like to be pregnant and afraid of the future, or helping to pick out things for the nursery (if you happen to have one). Some of us will not have their family talking to them or wanting to know anything about the pregnancy or the future grandchild, nephew, or niece (or even wanting to know which it is) or even if the fetus is still alive or if you're still alive.

I lay awake thinking about how if I were to find a place to move to, unless I wrote about it on this blog, and someone in family happened to read this blog, they would not even know that I had moved. I thought about what it will be like having a child and my family not even knowing that I've had the child, what the child is, what the child's name is, what the child looks like, what it will be like not having any help at all. But my psychiatrist says that I can't allow myself to stay in the pattern I've been in with my family. I must set boundaries and keep away from abusive and unhealthy behaviours by them for my sanity and for the good of my future child. I can't allow myself to have family members hurling abuses at me (sometimes when drunk, sometimes when sober), then denying that they said these things (whether because of a blackout from alcohol, forgetfulness, or pride) or justifying why they said these monstrous things to me, never apologizing for hurting me, acting in an okay manner for a while, and then exploding again shaking my soul to its core and causing me further anxiety and depression.

This pattern that has been with me my whole life with my family cannot continue now that I have a dependent creature to think of that's not feline. It's excruciating to not have my family involved at all, but I can't risk the child being exposed to what I was (not that my family wants to be involved at present). My psychiatrist was unequivocal that unless things were to change drastically that I should not expose my child to my family and the chaos that surrounds it. I must think of what is best for the child even if it feels painful. I wish that people would stop saying how great it is that I live in the same town as my parents and sibling when it's really not and they have no idea what it's really like for me. Quit assuming everyone, it's making an ass out of u and me.

So, to the writers and editors of these lacklustre pregnancy books that I've been reading, not everyone is in the same boat and you shouldn't make it seem like they are. It hurts worse to hear about perfect, functional families when you are pregnant and hormonal than it would when you're not (even though it does then too). It wouldn't take much to add a couple of sentences to these books about how you can turn to a close or trusted friend(s) or to your in laws or even to just your partner if your family is not supportive (in my experience, people will come out of the woodwork or step up in ways you never imagined before and while it may not be the same as having your family involved in the pregnancy, it's your reality, it's different, but it's okay). Or perhaps just state that not everyone will experience support from their family, but that they will find a way to get through it. But all of these books are written in such a simplistic and summary manner, I doubt that they will ever add something as complex as this. It's out of their depth (especially since some of these books seem to spend inordinate amounts of time on frittering things like being bored of your limited wardrobe in pregnancy, being afraid of how your appearance has changed, and how to decorate a nursery- come on!).

I was feeling kind of worried at the end of last week, after having seen my doctor about the hemorrhoid (it's getting much better with the epsom salts baths and Proctol ointment and witch hazel by the way) and him asking me if I was feeling the thing move inside me. I hadn't really been feeling it move, or at least not what I could recognize as movement. I had in the past a bit (I think), but then I didn't for about a week. Last Friday night, I felt some twitching again. I felt more movement many of the days this week. The thing seems to like it when I'm in the bath and sometimes when I'm in bed.  It feels stronger than it did before, so I think it's not indigestion, gas, or a muscle twitch in my abdomen, it must be the thing! It's so strange. This morning when I was trying to fall asleep, I felt like I had a tiny eel thrashing around in my abdomen. My husband has tried putting his hands on my abdomen when I've told him I feel something strange (when he's around on the weekend), but he can't feel anything yet of course, it's too faint.

It must be really hard for the partner of a pregnant person to not be able to feel for quite a while what their pregnant partner is feeling. My husband is much more liberal with talking to my abdomen and stuff though than I am, so he is bonding in his own way. I still feel pretty scared to get attached in case it doesn't work out, but with each passing week, I have felt my fear falling away a little. I suppose it will just take time. And maybe seeing it in the flesh in about 17 weeks will be believing.

23 weeks pregnant.