pregnant and exhausted…

It could be anemia, I could have a virus, or I could just be this way, for the next three months.

I went to the doctor today to see if there was some reason, beyond being pregnant with a five year old and a job, that I would be pale, lethargic, tired beyond all reason, and suffering from random dizziness and faintness. I went in primarily because the tired has gotten ridiculous. Waking up in the morning has begun to feel like coming back from the dead, as though I am turning back and walking through the long tunnel away from the white light. I have to lie in bed and gather my conciousness around me until I can open my eyes and get up. Then I wander around all day feeling as though I could go back to sleep if I simply lay down in a quiet room. I don’t have the energy to go to the grocery store, or to make a snack. I am so tired, I just want to sleep.

So after going to work today and being told by my office mates that I am pale and look really worn down, I called the office and made an appointment. I picked Monkey up from school and headed to the office. The listened to me, and said they would test me for anemia and thyroid issues but that ” second pregnancies are often like this, after all, you are pregnant and running around after a child.” I calmly explained that I am not pregnant and running around after a child because I am too damn tired to run around after a child! She then asked me if I am depressed. Sigh.

Well no, beyond the fact that I am so tired I can’t get out of bed, cook food for my family, shop at the grocery store, or help my daughter with her homework without needing an hour long nap afterwards. I am happy about the baby, comfortable with my life, and content in my job. I am not depressed, in fact, I am just too tired to be depressed. I am drained, if my life were a gothic novel I would instantly begin going to bed with garlic around my neck and crosses hung on my bedroom walls.

So what do I do if I am not anemic? If this is just how I am going to feel for the next several months? Furthermore, how do I convince medical practitioners that there is something wrong, that no one should be this tired? I wasn’t this tired in the first trimester, I wasn’t this tired while studying for the bar exam pregnant! Of all the times I should have been dragging ass, studying for the bar in the first trimester of pregnancy should have topped them all!

Any helpful thoughts? I have a job to work, a house to run, and a child to chase. I can’t do this all with no energy whatsoever. Lee is a huge help, but he has to work, so I am on my own from about 8:30 until about 6:30. I could use help coming up with easy meals I can make that she will eat and I can reheat. Recipes that will increase my energy level would help too. If anyone has the contact information for Van Helsing, I may need to slay some bloodsucking vampires to see if that helps.

Parenting magic…

My husband is brilliant, or my daughter is weird

Lee stayed home with me today because I have been feeling very tired and dizzy lately and he wanted to check up on me. After picking Monkey up from school, he brought her home and I prepared to set her up with her half hour of television before asking her to start her homework. However, before I could hit play on the Berenstein Bears episode I had prepared, Lee came up with the most insane suggestion ever.

“Monkey, if you go clean up your room, I will teach you how to do laundry.”

Yeah right!! I hear this “bribe” and wonder how delusional my husband has become. No child wants to work, only so they can do more work! You bribe with t.v., or outside play time, or a family board game!! Shaking my head in wonder, I calmly explained to Lee that I usually let her relax for half an hour after school before asking her to work. She then interrupted me with the following;

“Daddy, I usually like to watch half an hour of t.v. before I work, but I really want to learn to do laundry so I would like to go clean my room right now!”

She ran off to do so. Lee, rightfully so, looked smug. After several seconds of staring at the empty space left by Monkey’s fast retreat to her room, I eventually recovered from my shock.

Oh my god!! Who actually thought Lee could cajole a room cleaning with laundry lessons? Why hasn’t he written a book about this brilliant work-based bribery system? Furthermore, why didn’t I think of it? I am pretty sure there is something special in his pheromones or something, if I attempted to encourage work with work, all I would get is refusal and begging for television. He must have some awesome daddy powers.

She went nuts on her room too, cleaned the whole thing and then came out into the living room to ask for the vacuum so she could clean the rug too. I wonder how long this laundry motivation will last….

Happily, they are settling into their own routine, and one that is independent of me. Lee started a very odd game with her, one he calls “And who are you?” where he pretends to have no idea who she is or where she came from. Their time together is often punctuated by her patiently explaining that she is his daughter, that she lives with him, that he had breakfast with her that morning, etc. She really seems to think it is funny, and it allows them some silly time together. They really need it as this seems to be the first time in their relationship where they are really banging heads. Monkey simply can’t get enough of her daddy, but at the same time she seems to be really ready to push his buttons. I know kids have phases when they are developing their own individuality and have to differentiate themselves from you somehow, but I was unaware that this began at 5. It is very frustrating. I spend a lot of time talking, and then wondering if I am slowly disappearing from the rest of the world as she wanders off as though I have not spoken.

It is especially difficult to be patient with her as I get more and more pregnant. I am tired all the time, and can’t ever seem to get enough energy to handle all I do at work and home. Even with she and Lee being as helpful as they are, it has been a long and hard 5 months. I have been fatigued enough lately that I am going to ask my doctor to check me for anemia come our next visit. I just don’t remember ever feeling this run down. Anyone have any magic pregnancy safe energy supplements I can take to survive the next three and a half months?

Well, I am off to lie down, again, and daydream about having the energy to finish the Socktopus I am making for Margot so she can get it before her baby arrives.

A pregnant woman walks into a salon…

There is this urge, when largely preggo, to recklessly hack off one’s hair in an attempt to feel like a new, non hippo-shaped person.* I have been suffering from this desire for several days now. Luckily, fortune, and a stylist named Ryan, intervened and prevented me from getting my “Lt. Kara Thrace” haircut this afternoon.

I walked into a very fancy salon and up to the nicely tailored man behind the counter. I was dressed in yoga pants, a sweater, and no make-up. He asked me what he could do for me, and I told him. “I am 5 months pregnant, and I need my hair to be something more than a giant mop hanging off my head.” He looked me up and down, said “congratulations” and told me Ryan would take care of me at two. He then asked a very thin pretty woman to take my information down and seat me with tea and cookies while I waited.

I contemplated my short new ‘do’ while waiting, and wondered what Lee was going to think about the loss of my golden locks. I was eventually led to shampoo, and relaxed further while Jessica washed my hair. Why is it that simply having someone else wash your hair can be a transformative experience? Afterwards, I was led to a chair and introduced to the man who would shore my head.

He asked me what I was looking to do, and I told him. He then said no. I paused for a moment, and said “you won’t cut my hair?” He told me, “I will cut your hair, but every time a pregnant woman walks in here, she wants to hack off all her hair, and everytime she comes back, she hates it. I will work with you to cut it into something stylish and sexy, but I will not cut it off.”

I contemplated his comments and slowly began to realize that he had been placed on this earth to prevent me from shaving my head in my fifth month of pregnancy. I agreed to his terms and emerged from the salon an hour later with a great haircut.

Here are a few pictures of the new cut, and the baby belly!

Much better than a highly short boy cut inspired by a fictional female soldier in outer space. Thank the PTB’s for Ryan.

(* Before anyone posts to tell me I do not look like a hippo, I want to explain my comment. You see, when a hippo lays on it’s back in the water, you can only see it’s face, it’s feet, and it’s belly. When I lay on my back in the water, you can only see my face, my feet, and my belly. Therefore, I feel as though I have a lot in common with a hippo at this point in my pregnancy. Besides, they are kind of cute.)

Managing life with chronic illness requires savvy spoons