Monday, February 20, 2012

a pound of flesh

I gained three pounds in the 14 weeks I carried baby #2. This was way better than the eight or so I'd gained with G by the end of the first trimester. I was kinda excited about the idea that I might not gain so much weight this time around, especially because I was still carrying nine or so pounds from G. Dave and I had been talking about it just before my OB walked in to start the appointment. I had been so happy at that moment.

After the D&C, I weighed myself. I had lost a pound of those three I had gained with baby. A pound of baby and fluid and placenta was gone. As I dressed for work this morning, I realized that I don't even look pregnant anymore. I just look plump, a little thick around the waist. I lost a pound of baby; the other two are just the me that's left. I kind of hope my lack of appetite will help me lose some more.

I've been really cold since Saturday. I could tell my higher pregnant lady body temperature had dropped back down to a normal level. Instead of demanding that the ceiling fan be on during the night, I turn it off and huddle beneath mounds of blankets.

The nausea went away almost immediately. This was probably helped along by the patch they placed under one of my ears, but I took that off late Saturday and haven't had problems since. Is it sad that I almost miss this constant sign of pregnancy? I would give anything to be bent over the toilet right now, throwing up lunch because of baby's presence in my belly.

I'm dealing with a lot of skin breakouts, moreso than I even did with baby. My guess is the shifting hormones, everything settling back into normal not-pregnant me. I don't ache as much as I did, and pretty soon I doubt I'll need the pillow between my legs at night.

Overall, the recovery from the D&C has been easy. Little pain as long as I don't push myself, bleeding that slowed quickly after the first day, some tiredness but my painkillers can cause that. Of course, my heart will take much longer to heal. I have had dreams every night of a tiny red hand reaching toward me. I suppose eventually the crying will stop, as will the dreams. Eventually, we'll move on, maybe if we get pregnant again, maybe before that.

For now, I hold my toddler close.

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