The third trimester is approaching. I am not feeling terribly bad yet…still able to sleep, no nasal congestion like last time. However, I do weigh more. I have been really careful about my diet since seeing the doctor and also making extra efforts to be active. I haven’t had any food I actually like in about three weeks, except a couple of dark chocolate chips. And I’ve been walking an extra 30 minutes most days.
I did not feel energetic in the second trimester, and have remained lethargic and fatigued throughout pregnancy. I notice that I am starting to become more forgetful too.
I don’t think we are going to have any more kids after this, not because I wouldn’t love a big family, but because I am too tired to handle more, and I am also getting older. I don’t really feel sad or terribly wistful that this is the last one. I had doubts about my fertility and I married very late and I wasn’t sure I’d ever even get to have two, so the second feels kind of like a bonus. Also, I don’t like pregnancy and being tired all the time.
We will be meeting with a doula this weekend.
As far as coping with grief, I am wading through it slowly. It really helps that both babies are keeping me busy.
The hospice bereavement counselor was supposed to e-mail me some stuff on grief and anger. Never heard back from her. Boy did our hospice suck. I read other people saying that their hospice provided the family a nurse 24/7 in the final days. Not ours. Nurse “Helen” finally showed up a couple of hours after my dad died, and started discussing his “burial” (we are Hindu) and telling me about how I had to give the bed back. My mom liked her. I thought she was evil.
I am 24 weeks today, and had an OBGYN checkup. Me and another lady with her elderly dad pulled up to the “expectant mom and limited mobility” parking at the same time, and I ended up taking the spot because my car was closer and because I was confused and wanted to get out of the street where I was blocking traffic. I was a little nervous and hit the curb. When I got out of my car she was still there and I asked her if she needed the spot. She said no and pointed out that another woman was pulling out. I ran into her again in the elevator going up. She said thanks for offering the spot–most people wouldn’t have. I said no problem…I was just pregnant, not actually unable to walk–and I thought to myself how I had brought my own dad there a few months ago in a wheelchair, and there was no parking. She said she’d told her dad “if she didn’t look pregnant, I’d have given her some crap.” Which gave me some pause–last time I didn’t look pregnant until 7 or 8 months, but believe me I felt like crap.
I usually have a nice doctor…gentleman from a small rural town with impeccable bedside manner. Today he was full, so I had an Asian lady. She just straight up told me I was too fat, had gained too much weight since my last appointment (6 lbs as opposed to 2), was at high risk for gestational diabetes and should have had a glucose test at 20 weeks (it was “too late” now), and why hadn’t my doctor ordered one? She informed me that I needed to not drink soda (I never drink soda), not drink sports drinks unless I was doing sports (I never drink sports drinks) and walk 30-45 minutes a day, which I already do.
It was totally humiliating.
Doctor Lady, I wanted to lose weight before I conceived. I wanted to be fit again like I was with my first. But my dad was dying and I had a newborn, and I was spending my days trying to lift him up off the floor where he’d fallen by rolling him onto an air mattress, while trying to make sure the baby didn’t climb up the stairs. I’ve been hesitant to exercise much this time around because I started bleeding at 14 weeks, it was terrifying, and nobody at your office ever explained to me why.
You don’t know me; you just see somebody fat and lazy. You have no frigging idea what I have been through.