Little Kite Girl

I went back to work today.  It was hard.  I hate doctors.  We still know nothing about what’s wrong with me.  I think I’ll just go to bed and read myself to sleep.

So apparently this is what my life will be forevermore.  Destined to roam the halls (uh, hall…) of my basement apartment eating teeny weeny amounts of food and trying to nourish self and unborn.  I read an old post of mine earlier today, one in which I came home from a full day’s work, took a nap, watched a favorite tv show, cleaned my ENTIRE apartment, made dinner, and then exercised.  Here’s the kicker, I was THEN ABLE TO GET UP AND WORK THE NEXT DAY.  If I am at any point ever able to do more than two of the things on that list in the same day again I will rejoice.  Angels singing hallelujah.  Also, I used to be funnier.  And probably cuter, and definitely thinner.  I am currently demoted to at the very MOST second in any footrace, as my belly precedes me into any room or through any ribbon marking finish lines in general.  Booo.  Not that I like footraces before, but the option was always there, you know?

Oh yeah- and after catching some weird light-flickering moment in the baby’s room earlier I turned to John and said, “I think I’ve been seeing things lately.”  “Like what?” he replied.  “Like movement in other rooms.”  He looked at me with squinty eyes, “Me too.”  To which I repsonded by breaking out into scary freaked out chill bumps.  “Like when?” I asked.  “Like when I’m in the bathroom.”

So yes.  Please tell your wife with the INFLAMMATORY BOWEL PROBLEMS that THE BATHROOM IS HAUNTED.  As if the toilet wasn’t already my favorite favorite place to be.  Geez Louise.

So…yesterday did not go as planned.  I got a call asking me about my prep for the procedure and letting me know that the nurse wanted to talk to the doctor- because the drugs used to take care of pain during the procedure do cross the placenta barrier.  Apparently, although the drugs are used in labor, they can cause the baby’s heart to stop or him to stop breathing, and need to be resuscitated.  That would be less of a risk if the baby were actually coming OUT, but as he is staying IN, the risk was too great.  So instead…we had a consultation.  My symptoms were worrisome enough to the GI, who decided right then and there that we’d do a scaled-down version on the colonoscopy sans drugs.  I could feel the panic starting to rise, but I just had to remind myself (and have John remind me) that I was doing it for the baby.  I needed to do it for the safety of my baby.  So, as fun as it was, it wasn’t too bad.  Just one of those moments in life that you close your eyes and hope to GOD they find something so that it can all be over.  The procedure did end…but with no real answers.  Follows more tests, more samples, more waiting.  Another weekend of hoping to hear on Monday.  Another few days of just dealing with it.  Meanwhile, I’ve missed a bunch of work and school, and am actually, quite literally starting to go crazy.  To top it all off the doctor said that we may STILL have to do the colonosopy as a “last resort.”  We both kind of feel like he may be stalling…trying to draw out the other tests and find answers another way until I’m further along in the pregnancy- and honestly…I’m glad.  Everyone just kept saying, “You’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, it’s perfectly safe!” and meanwhile I just kept feeling like it was NOT fine and that my baby and I would go to sleep for this procedure and only one of us would wake up.  I can’t remember a time when I’ve ever felt more fear in my entire life.  Even if I just have to suffer through this until after the baby is born, I’m not convinced it worth the risk to fix me when he’s just fine.  Worst case scenario- I have to stay home, my Mommy comes and takes care of me so that John can go to school and work, and we just get by.  I can’t worry too much about anything but this baby right now.  If he’s ok, everything else will be too. What can be so wrong about life when there are so many people who love you?  Not a lot.

If this is anything like bed rest- I know without a doubt,  I could not handle it.  We found out that my plague has nothing to do with a parasite or even a bacteria, but rather something much more long-term, i.e. IBS, Crohne’s, or Ulceritic Colitis.  They’re leaning toward the last one, but only because Crohne’s doesn’t run in my family.  (Those are the three options the doctor has given me so far.)  Apparently these diseases develop during stressful times in life- and pregnancy is pretty much one of the most stressful things your body can go through as a woman.  So, that means Erin + hidden stomach problems + pregnancy = no longer hidden stomach problems.  When we found out I flipped out- mostly because of the gross miscommunication between my OBGYN, the BYU health center and myself…and finally just marched up to the doctor’s office and insisted on being seen.  When they learned what was going on the baby doctor saw me.  I was upset because they had assumed that everything was fine, until the point that absolutely nothing was fine, and now my baby might be suffering.  Turns out- he is totally and completely fine.  I, however, am the one who is getting fewer and fewer nutrients as Camper grows.  Hence, the newest fun news:

A colonoscopy on Thursday.

A colonoscopy which requires no eating ANYTHING tomorrow…and no drinking after midnight.  My procedure is 7am Thursday morning.  And before you ask my favorite question “Is that safe for the baby?” and I give my favorite answer, “No, it’s completely risky, I had to sign fourteen pieces of paper with big red letters reading “at your own risk” and “your baby will never poo correctly in his life,” um…yeah.  I am assured that they have done this on pregnant women before and no one seems to be worried.  Except for me, who is totally and utterly scared.  Comforted by every medical professional I’ve talked to, but still scared.  And unhappy, and mad that it’s gone on so long that this is necessary.

While the actual procedure isn’t risky, the scariest part is dehydration.  Considering I drink like a fiend to keep myself hydrated and a hundred paces away from preterm labor these days, I’m not looking forward to a 7 hour stint with no water.  And I don’t even want to talk about the food.  The fact that I can’t eat tomorrow makes me feel like I’m starving my baby on top of myself.  And that, as well, makes me sad.

But what can I do?  If I don’t get the test they can’t fix me, which means I can’t function or even keep hydrated like a normal person, which means I’m walking straight towards nothing but bed rest at the end of my pregnancy.  However, if I can rest up and eat up enough today, and then drink as much as I can before midnight tomorrow…then all I have to do is get through 8 hours without going into preterm labor, rehydrate…and then hopefully we’ll move on from there.

So for now…I’m just chillin’ in my house. Trying to be outrageously hydrated.  I cut orange smilies today trying to feel like my Mom was close by.  She does it better.  But it’s ok, I can get all the orange smilies I need when she comes out in September.  Oh yeah- and I hate insurance companies.  You would think that if you pay so much much money to get it all set up, and then pay so much co-pay and out of pocket anyway, that they’d at least make it easy for you.  But not.  Stupid insurance.

I can’t believe it’s already Sunday afternoon.  I got some good sleep for the first time this morning- unfortunately, it kicked in right before we were meant to get up for church.  I like something my Mom said today though: “They called you to be a primary teacher, not a martyr.”  My co-teacher is taking care of class for the rest of the month and I took the opportunity to rest up.  I’m crossing my poofy fingers and my swollen ankles and anything else that’s still crossable and hoping that they figure out what has taken up residence in my colon so I can go back to feeling pregnant gross and not parasite gross. Now that I’m back on some medication I’m at least functioning- but I find it’s for short periods of time.  (Well, except for when I’m at work.  And then it’s for 8 hours, minimum….)

I have been having some fun pregnancy symptoms lately.  I’ve been telling John that I feel like my fingertips are dead.  I guess I really didn’t mean dead, because they actually feel MORE sensitive than usual.  Sensitive and extra wrinkly, like I just got out of the bath.  My feet also fall asleep more easily, and my belly feels like it goes out about 738 inches.  At night, if I need to roll over it’s almost worth it to get out of bed and turn around and get back in.  By the time I get all rolled over I’m so twisted in my blankets and pillows that I just have to get out anyway.  And by then I have to go to the bathroom.  Haha.  I feel bad for John.

Also- I can’t even imagine how much our water bill has gone up in the last two months.  I take at least one long bath every evening- and if I’m home at all during the day (like Saturdays) sometimes it’s two.  Now that’s I’m thinking about it…might have something to do with the fingertip thing.  Nah- can’t be.

With all the time I’ve been spending in the bathroom for all the various reasons there are to be there, I’ve been wanting something interesting to read.  I’m reluctant to take John’s books into the bathtub- so we went to the library yesterday.  Lol.  I’ve NEVER dropped a book in the water- but I rather deal with the public library if it were to ever happen than a very sad husband.  So I’ve got a few good things to read and some definitely homework to do- not to mention work.  So I’m keeping busy.  Only TWO classes left for the summer- as as I left work on Friday things were caught up, ready for payroll this week.  Oh!  AND we washed our cars yesterday.  In the driveway.  With the HOSE.  Things are good- now if only I can get rid of this parasite….August is looking pretty good.