21 Weeks with Emelia: Finally feeling better, for real now?

21 weeks. I’m finally at that point where I can get up in the morning, pee a lot, and go out to the kitchen and make scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit for Olivia and I without dry heaving on the floor. Oh, it’s glorious.

I’m actually looking through Pinterest now for recipes to make for the week and I’m excited about them again. I don’t really have any sort of food aversions anymore, though the smell of raw onions is a no-go still. But even unlike my pregnancy with Olivia, chicken breasts don’t bother me, so I’m able to get in some actual protein from meat now.

What’s going on with me

Overall, I’m feeling 95% back to normal in that regard, but there are still random mornings where I have to clamp my mouth shut so I don’t gag before breakfast. And allergy season is a bit rough because of my overly-sensitive gag reflex. Coughing and sneezing have become dangerous activities on an empty stomach. One cough or sneeze, well, that’s OK. Any more than that and I’m in trouble in the form of a violent heave that leaves my mouth watering and my stomach rolling. And God forbid I have to sneeze again during that time.

Pregnancy makes me a little dramatic.

If you remember from last’s week’s 20-week update, I had gone to my OB appointment and there was a discussion on how I had gained 11 pounds so far. I went home still confused and looked it up on my online chart. I sent off a message to the care team pointing out that no, according to what I’m seeing, I’ve only gained 6 pounds, and that was even discussed at my 16-week visit. Since I was the exact same weight for this visit as I was my last, it’s seemingly impossible for me to have magically gained another 5 pounds. I got a response back from a nurse that I was suspicious was the same nurse I had last week who was the one who told me I had an 11 pound gain:

The total weight gain as of now is based on the pre-pregnancy weight from the OB Intake visit. At that time it was noted that your weight was 190 pounds.

I politely responded back:

My OB intake visit was actually 4/8/19 at which my weight was recorded as 196 pounds, not 190. I was 190 pounds back in January, two months before my IVF transfer. At the time of transfer, my weight was around 197 which is in my records from XXX. Putting my pre-pregnancy weight at 190 isn’t accurate and sets me up to fail since I should only be gaining 15 pounds total.

To which another nurse replied back saying:

I’m not sure who told you you have gained 11 pounds.
Review of your chart indicates that we have listed as your pre-pregnancy weight 196 lb and that your total weight gain is 5 lb 1.6 oz.
If you have further questions or concerns please discuss this with Dr. XXX at your next office visit.

Son of a bitch, you guys. So I guess there you go, but that just put me in a bad mood over the staff at this clinic all over again. Because a five-pound difference when you only have 15 pounds to gain is quite a bit. And I know, I know, in the grand scheme it doesn’t mean anything. But being already overweight and treated differently because of it during this pregnancy, I feel like it’s setting me up for more scrutiny.

That being said, now that I’m feeling better, I’m working on trying to eat better and not have 75% of my diet be from carbs.

I’m still having hellfire heartburn and indigestion, mostly in the evenings around and after dinner. I think one day this week I was actually leaking a bit of milk because I took my bra off one night to find a dried sticky milk substance on my nipples. Which was both fascinating and disgusting, so of course I had to document it here. My skin has been horribly itching lately, and my lower back has been aching off and on, but luckily not too bad. The round ligament pain has been manageable so far, unless I get up to fast or stretch to quickly. I’ve only gotten a few crotch shots from this sweet baby, and there are times she enjoys trouncing on my bladder, making me have to go to the bathroom rightnow.

I’ve noticed more anxiety this week with losing Queso. I remember with Olivia feeling this same way, and for Queso’s anatomy scan, I didn’t even have this, two weeks ago. But this week has been rough, and luckily, I’m seeing my therapist on Monday. I don’t want to get into it, because I don’t want to make it about me, but a dear friend and former infertility blogger lost her little girl yesterday at 21 weeks. She was a day behind me in pregnancy and I’m reeling from that.

I don’t know. Pregnancy after infertility is hard. It’s so fucking hard and going through it for the second time isn’t any easier. I mean, in some ways it is, but lately, I’m finding myself trying not to become concerned if I don’t feel her for a while, and when I do, it’s like, OK, you’re still with me.

What’s going on with Queso

This week in Queso’s world, I learned she’s making her own poop now, developing taste buds, and already has a lifetime supply of eggs in her ovaries—about 6 million of them.

I’m feeling her little rolls and kicks still lower down. It’s hard to imagine her as this decent sized baby, but that’s exactly what she is now, about the size of a large banana, or even more entertaining, a bottle of Sriracha.

(Hopefully,) 19 more weeks to go.