Tag Archives: morning sickness

Take Two

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It’s been a long time since I’ve posted.  In my defense, I’ve been a bit busy.  Earlier this month, I delivered our second beautiful baby boy.  And so it begins.  Again.

I figured we would be finished with one.  WE were good with one.  He fit well into our lives, and it was just starting to get easier.  We had it all figured out.

But then we would watch him playing alone.  Watch him watching the other kids.  Watch him begging us to “Play!  Play!”  And we knew.  We had to give him a sibling.

So we started on the journey again.  Oh, it wasn’t without doubt.  We had many many conversations about the process of pregnancy.  I had a pretty rough pregnancy with our first, and wasn’t looking forward to doing it again.  My husband wasn’t thrilled with the prospect of picking up the slack while I would be theoretically laid up on a couch for 9 months.  But, we figured, it was only temporary.  And hey – they say that every pregnancy is different!  Maybe this one would be easier!

So we persevered.  And were shocked and over the moon when that second pink line appeared, ever so faintly.  It was going to happen!

And then… Pregnancy.  To save you the suspense, they were right.  Every pregnancy IS different.  This one, unfortunately, was much worse.

Granted, I am now two years older.  And more tired, chasing around a toddler.  But when it HIT, I was not prepared.  The nausea – let me tell you about the nausea.  This was not a little bit of seasickness.  This was literally throwing up 10-15 times a day.  This was opening the fridge, and catching a whiff of something that I swear was rotting, and bending over the kitchen sink while everyone else swore they couldn’t smell anything.  This was vomiting after walking past a batch of “rancid” strawberries in the grocery store.  This was putting my work conference calls on mute (thank GOODNESS I have the flexibility to work primarily from home) to vomit into the wastebasket.  It was horrible.  Literally the worst feeling I have ever felt in my life.  And it NEVER ENDS.

Doctors wanted me to take Zofran as they were worried about dehydration.  Zofran, FYI, is an anti-nausea medication that is commonly prescribed to chemotherapy patients.  Are there risks, I asked?  Minimal, they answered.  And so of course I turned to Dr. Google.  And subsequently decided that no matter how bad it got, I wouldn’t take it.  Paranoid?  Maybe.  But I could never live with myself if something went wrong; I would forever blame the fact that I had opted to take the Zofran.

So I tried acupuncture.  Multiple times.  Didn’t work.  Tried the ginger, the Vitamin B, the teas… In short, I tried everything.  Nothing worked.  Depressed.  Isolated.  Staying out of the kitchen helped.  Avoiding strawberries helped.  Throwing away the pear-scented hand soap that I could smell on my husband or son a mile away helped.  But other than that, there was nothing to do but subsist on the couch, in my office chair, or in bed until it finally began subsiding around 5 months.

Then the relative bliss of the next few months.  I felt alive again!  Could make (and keep) plans!  Could finally think beyond the misery of the next moment to hours, days, and weeks ahead.  Pulled out of the depression.  It was wonderful.

Now the focus went beyond my own misery to the baby.  I had done a CVS again, so was assured that genetically things looked okay.  I was seeing a wonderful OB (who had delivered my first child) and a top perinatologist, so knew I was in good medical hands.  So far so good.

Then the next challenge.  The perinatologist lets me know that my HCG levels are too high in about the 25th week of pregnancy.  Since genetic issues can be ruled out, it likely means that I could later struggle with placental insufficiency.  What is placental insufficiency?  Well – it basically means that the placenta is working too hard, too early, and will likely “poop out” (doctor’s words) towards the end of my pregnancy.  He concludes that he wants to continue to see me to measure baby’s growth, placenta’s growth, and ensure we catch it if it starts to fail too early.  He also advises that he does not want to see me go beyond 39 weeks of pregnancy, even if all looks well, because at that point the risks outweigh the benefits in a woman “as young” as I am and with some of my test results.

So we continue to see both doctors.  Everything seems to progress normally and after 32 weeks, I am “graduated” from the perinatologist.

About two weeks later is when the baby’s growth really begins to slow.  In fact, almost decrease.  I am given Non Stress Tests (NSTs) to ensure all looks okay.  And then come the scares.  This baby NEVER MOVES!  I share that with my OB.  Sure enough, she does an NST and his heart rate is flat.  She sends me to the hospital for two hours of additional monitoring and a biophysical ultrasound.  Ultimately all looks okay.

Then a couple of weeks later, a car accident.  A minor one, but I am shaken.  And baby stops moving.  Once again am sent to the hospital for monitoring and ultrasound.  And baby looks okay.

Then a third time, on Christmas Eve.  Go in for a routine OB check-up, and they notice via NST that the baby’s heart rate is once again flat.  Am sent again to the hospital for the same monitoring routine.  Four hours later, we are discharged.  Baby looks okay.

And then the final and fourth time.  Am once again in the OB’s office when they see only a flat heart rate on the NST print out.  Go to the hospital.  After several hours, am told that baby appears okay.  Am also told that I am having contractions (which I have begun feeling).  My doctor calls.  Says that if we would like, she will induce tonight because of all the scares with the baby… But that she recommends just waiting another day or so.  She feels that I will go into full blown labor on my own by the following day.

We take her advice.  Come home and I labor, albeit inconsistently, through the night.  The following day my husband goes to work.  I labor inconsistently throughout the day.  At times during my walk with the dog and toddler, I have to stop.  I finally give up and plop the toddler in front of Sesame Street so that I can sit myself.  I do end up being able to take a short nap.

Hubby gets home and we take a family walk around 7pm.  I have to stop several times, take breaths, wait for the pain to pass.  But the contractions are still inconsistent.  I get ready for bed, and lie down about 9pm, figuring I can get some sleep before I am certain I go into full blown labor the following day.

By 9:10pm, the pain is pretty bad.  Enough that I am shuddering through the contractions.  But they are still 10-15 minutes apart.  We call the hospital.  They say to wait until the contractions are 5 minutes apart.  Hubby asks if we should call the friend who will be watching our toddler during the hospital stay.  I say No – we have time – and go and lay back down.

By 9:17pm, I am almost crying through a contraction and have him place the call.  By 9:20pm, contractions are suddenly 3-4 minutes apart and I can’t take them.  I have him call the friend back to see how far out she is.  He packs the car and gets everything ready so we can just leave once she arrives.

Finally she is here.  We fly out the door and I am contracting all the way to the hospital.  We arrive and I have to stop 4 times between the car and the entrance.  The entrance is closed due to construction!  They say we have to go around the back entrance.  Hubby pleads with them, they take one look at me, and they usher us through.  We get up to Labor & Delivery.  Hubby calls the front desk: “I think we’re having a baby!”  Panicked.  They let us in and I am bent over a chair, contracting.  Nurse says “We’ve got a live one – Put her in Room 3!”

Within 2 minutes I am in a hospital gown and they have confirmed I am 5cm dilated.  I am begging for the epidural.  They have to wheel me into the delivery room.  Once there, only 10 minutes later, I am 8cm dilated.  I am BEGGING BEGGING BEGGING for the epidural.  Crying.  They are telling me to “breathe through the pain.”  Screw that.  GIVE ME THE EPIDURAL.

Turns out some paperwork wasn’t completed.  Then they didn’t put my IV in correctly.  Then they realized I don’t have a hospital band and they don’t even know who I am.  The anesthesiologist finally arrives and calls a TIME OUT.  The nurses huddle and then start over.  I am begging him for relief.  He advises me that at this point, an epidural will kick in too late.  “The head is RIGHT THERE.”  I tell him I don’t care: GIVE ME THE EPIDURAL.  The nurse says I need to go through a full bag of IV fluids first.  I shout at them to CALL MY DOCTOR.  I want the epidural!

Then finally.  The head nurse comes in and says she has to talked to my doctor, and she has advised them to give me the epidural.  They do so, reluctantly.  I wait for it to kick in.  Through another contraction.  Then two more.  The contractions are fast and furious now – no time in between.  I still feel everything: the checks, the catheter, everything.  I complain between the searing pain.  They say they told me this would happen as I am too far along.  I ask when my doctor will be here.  They say within 30 minutes and don’t push yet.  I feel the urge to push but I am not delivering this baby without her.  More tears.

Finally my doctor walks in.  “Thank God you’re here!”  She takes one look at me, and turns to the nurse “Um, doesn’t look like your epidural is working.”  She begins to suit up.  “Where are my booties?”  Nurse: “I don’t know.”  Once that is figured out, she asks the nurse why nothing has been sterilized.  The nurse tells the doctor that SHE is supposed to do that.  Hubby and I stare in disbelief as the nurse continues to argue back until the doctor, being the bigger person, simply does it herself.

Finally it’s time.  They let me know that I am going to need to push.  I wail like a baby.  I can’t!  I am too scared!  It hurts too much!!!!  I CAN’T DO IT!!!!

They prod me more aggressively and I give a feeble push.  Baby shifts.  Contraction ends.  Second contraction.  Second push.  Stronger.  Crowning.

Then: “The cord is around the baby’s neck and his heart rate is dropping.  We need to get him out this next push.”  And that was all it took.  Gritting teeth.  Sobbing.  Grunting.  Pushing.  And he is out.

More tears.  Of joy this time.  The doctor expertly unloops the cord from around his neck.  He begins crying.  He is red and flushed.  They lay him on my belly and we hold him.  Rocking.  Crying.  Joy.

Unlike with my first, who experienced a traumatic delivery and was immediately taken from me, we are able to luxuriate in close to two hours of skin-to-skin time with our baby.  The time flies by.  We are left alone.  It is the peak of the entire pregnancy.  Those fleeting golden moments.  Just baby, mother, and father.  Precious.

Finally they take him and weigh him.  6 pounds and 11 ounces, much smaller than my first baby.  They bathe him.  Hubby takes pictures.  I watch in awe.  He is perfect.  The moments are perfect.  He is brought back to us for more bonding.  And I notice that my heart has immediately expanded.  Is overfilled with enough love for both of our children.  Dripping.

And I know that our family is complete.

11 Things Never to Say to a Woman with Severe Morning Sickness

ToiletSo there is morning sickness and then there is MORNING SICKNESS.  AKA Hyperemesis Gravidarum.  All-consuming, debilitating, depressing illness.  Make no mistake – they are not one and the same.

Typical morning sickness comes with some nausea, vomiting, and general not-feeling-well-ness.  Hyperemesis Gravidarum results in severe vomiting, dehydration, trips to doctors, depression in many cases, and pressure to take Zofran (anti-nausea medication for chemotherapy patients).

Neither are fun.

And due to a lack of real knowledge about either of these conditions, sufferers are subject to constant tips and tricks from well-meaning bystanders who may have no idea how serious this can be, especially in the case of Hyperemesis Gravidarum.

So based on my own experience, I’ve compiled a list of things NOT to say to women suffering from severe morning sickness.

1.  Try Saltines.  Unless the mother-to-be is lucky enough to only have a very mild case of morning sickness, Saltines do not work.  They do not help.  They do nothing but ensure that your next vomiting session includes the white salty goo that these turn into.

2.  Try Ginger.  Ginger does not work.  In my case, it makes me even more sick.  After investing in cases of ginger ale, ginger candy, and raw ginger, I quickly developed an aversion that led to nothing but waste.

3.  Try Sea Bands.  I really wanted these to work.  I really gave it a go.  Day in and day out with those little balls pressing into my wrists, leaving indentations and redness.  I will save you the suspense: they don’t work either.  Again, maybe for minor nausea, but for severe sickness – they do nada except mark up your wrists.

4.  Try Acupuncture.  I had high hopes for this.  Heck, if it is good enough for Fergie then it is good enough for me.  I went 4 times, and each time left as sick as I had arrived.  Once I even vomited on the way out.  Now, I will say that the acupuncturist and staff were extremely nice and caring – that was sweet – but as far as any actual relief, well, you know the story.  Did leave a dent in my wallet though.

5.  Try Hard Candies/Prenatal Pops/[Insert Other Consumable Product].  NOTHING like this works.  Nothing.  I have tried it all.  I did succeed in creating some new aversions for myself.  And in trying some new foods.  But none of it helped with the sickness.  And I was a bit offended that well-meaning advice givers were minimizing my all-consuming and debilitating illness to the point that a simple piece of candy or food could relieve it.

6.  It Will Only Last for 3 Months.  How the frick do YOU know????  That’s what I felt like saying every time.  There are certainly stories of poor pregnant mothers who are severely sick up to and even during delivery.  Even if the woman is lucky enough to find some relief after three months, how does three months of misery sound to you???  Imagine a hangover combined with food poisoning that doesn’t let up for THREE MONTHS.  My acupuncturist shared a true story with me: one of her newly-pregnant patients was suffering from some severe morning sickness.  Her not-so-compassionate hubby told her, ah don’t worry about it, it’s only for three months.  That same hubby woke up the next morning with a bout of food poisoning and, as men do, laid in bed all day whining and begging for help.  The wife, every so sweetly, told him “don’t worry Honey, it will only last for three months.”

7.  At Least it Lets Up in the Evenings.  For those living in the dark ages, “morning sickness” is a misnomer.  It does NOT only occur in the mornings.  Unfortunately some of us suffer all day and night.  I would literally wake up in the night to vomit.  When it is severe, there is NO period of relief.  So to imply to a pregnant woman that she has some hours of relief during the day can be completely false and once again minimize the misery she is going through.

8.  At Least You Will Feel Better Once You Vomit.  NOT TRUE!  If you are hungover and vomit, yes you will feel some relief.  If you have the stomach flu and vomit, again you will feel some temporary relief.  The sick joke that is morning sickness ensures that no matter how often or how violently you vomit, there is no temporary relief afterwards.  The nausea is still there as strong as before.  So all the vomiting does is make you tear up, bring up stomach acid, burn your throat, and make a mess.  The woman does not feel one ounce of relief afterwards.

9.  I/My Mother/My Sister/My Friend Never Experienced Morning Sickness.  Well whoopty-do for you.  That’s great.  Really, it is.  But it is not what I want to hear when I am doubled over and heaving into a toilet or sink.  Especially when it’s my 12th vomit of the day.

10.  Just Try Not to Think About It.  My usually-considerate husband had the audacity to mutter this to me one morning.  Lord help him.  You might as well just say “it’s all in your head.”  I promise you, it is not in my head.  I swear to you, if there was any way possible that I could focus on anything OTHER than being so ill, I would be the first one to do so.  Well-meaning advice givers, I can guarantee you, it is not in the mother’s head.  It is not a matter of simply not thinking about it.  It is a real and serious illness which has no cure and only questionable treatments.  Telling her not to think about it is simply ignorant and, frankly, not possible for her.  Do yourself a favor and keep this little tidbit to yourself.

11. [While in Mid-Vomit] Quick, Get Out of the Kitchen/Bathroom/[Fill in Location].  Newsflash: Once the vomiting has begun, it cannot be stopped.  You cannot simply move the woman to another room or away from the smell and expect the vomiting to stop.  That ship has sailed.  Instead, hold her hair, rub her back, comfort her, and help her clean up.  From experience, I can tell you that all you will accomplish by telling a vomiting pregnant woman to “quick – get out” is a pissed-off and exasperated monster who, if you’re not lucky, may decide to aim your way.

So what CAN you say to a woman who is going through the throes of morning sickness or, worse, Hyperemesis Gravidarum?  Nothing.  The key is not to talk.  Not to offer advice.  Just to listen.  Let her vent, let her cry, give her a hug, offer to lend her a helping hand, and check up on her often to see how she is doing.

No advice needed.

10 Myths of Pregnancy

I’m a conspiracy theorist.  Oh, I admit that I fully bought into the pregnancy propaganda sold by my mommy family and friends.  It was the best time of my life, they enthused.  I glowed!  I was treated like a queen!  My hair/skin/nails/[insert body part here] looked amazing!  I really miss it – I wish I were pregnant again.

I call BS.

Now that I’ve been through it, I’m convinced that other mothers purposely, deviously, upsell the virtues of pregnancy to encourage unsuspecting women like myself to take the plunge.  So that they don’t have to suffer alone.  Yes, I was duped.

Now don’t get me wrong – carrying a life is a beautiful, amazing thing.  To think that there is a baby growing inside of you, depending on you for its every need, is incredible.  It’s everything else that goes along with it that blows.

So I’ve compiled a list of the 10 biggest myths that I fell hook, line, and sinker for:

  1. You will Glow.  There was absolutely no glowing going on with me.  I may have given off a greenish tint, due to my all-consuming morning sickness.  Or perhaps this “glowing” they speak of is code for the sticky, clammy sheen of sweat that coats your body pretty much the entire 3rd trimester.
  2. You will have thick and luxurious hair.  I give them the “thick” part.  But mine was by no means “luxurious.”  It was thick, dry, frizzy, and out of control.  It was so thick I couldn’t do anything with it.  I wanted my regular old un-thick and un-luxurious hair back.
  3. You may experience some morning sickness.  Understatement of the century.  See my other post.  ‘Nuff said.
  4. Crackers will help with Morning Sickness.  Give it up already.  Nothing is helping.  Definitely not some dry crackers. 
  5. You get to “Eat for Two.”  This was probably the aspect I was MOST looking forward to.  Finally!  I don’t have to watch what I eat and exercise like a maniac.  I get to let myself go.  The bigger the bump, the cuter the pregnant woman.  Again, this is a complete crock.  Come to find out, the baby only needs about 300 additional calories a day (and even then, not until later in the pregnancy).  What’s 300 calories!?  A granola bar?  A smoothie?  Gee.  Thanks.
  6. You will receive special treatment.  Sometimes.  Sometimes not.  I distinctly recall a gentleman on the plane watching me struggle to lift my carry-on bag up into the overhead compartment.  I took it down and stood to catch my breath before trying again.  He walked over and I fully expected he was going to offer to help the struggling pregnant woman.  Instead, he took my rest break as his opportunity to shove his own duffel bag into the compartment (bumping me in the process). 
  7. Your ankles may bloat towards the end of pregnancy.  Try your ENTIRE BODY.  Ankles on up.  And up.  Including the face.  I looked like I had stepped into one of those funhouse mirrors.  And don’t expect any jewelry to fit.  My rings all went on hiatus.  Even my watches were a tight fit.
  8. You may have to empty your bladder more frequently.  Ladies, be prepared.  Once the 3rd trimester rolls around, you’re not going anywhere that doesn’t have a bathroom within a 10 step radius.  I literally had times at work that I would return to my desk from a restroom break, only to immediately stand up and head back.  I would plan my drives around distance and restroom breaks.  Even walking the dog became a test of “holding it.”  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
  9. You may be more tired than usual.  What they fail to mention is that you will become a temporary narcoleptic.  It will become a battle of sheer strength and willpower to get out of bed in the morning.  And yes, there WILL be times when you’re talking to friends or family and simply – doze off.  Don’t fight it.  You won’t win.
  10. Pregnancy hormones may cause mood swings.  Um, YA THINK??  Expect to lose just about all control of your moods.  Things that would be minor annoyances pre-pregnancy suddenly turn into dramatic rage-filled wars.  Television commercials, magazines, even billboards – will throw you into a weeping tailspin.  From hysterics to fury to maniacal laughter, you will become an emotional mess.

The bright side is that, ultimately, pregnancy ends.  I know it doesn’t feel like it when you’ve got, say, 6 months to go and you’re an exhausted, vomiting, hormonal mess.  But it WILL end.  I found that chunking phases of pregnancy into days and weeks helped me get through the tough times (especially the first 4 months at which point I was just trying to get through each day).

And the prize is so so sweet.  I would do it all again, in a heartbeat, for my beautiful baby boy. 

(And I imagine that THIS is how mommies get suckered into #2…)

First Trimester “Morning” Sickness

For me, the first trimester was a surreal time.  You find out you’re pregnant.  You begin the routine of doctor appointments, blood testing, ultrasounds, and prenatals.  You don’t quite believe it yet.  At first you feel completely normal.  You don’t believe that there is anything growing inside of you.  You stop drinking.  You stop eating sushi and sashimi.  But nothing else has really changed.  Until it suddenly does.

MORNING SICKNESS.  This is my single most vivid memory of the first trimester – in fact, the first 4 months.  Couple things.  First of all, it is not simple “nausea.”  Secondly, it does NOT only occur in the morning.  This is a tidal wave of all-consuming illness that lasts all day, all night, 24/7 for (at least for me) the first four months of pregnancy.  This is far worse than any stomach flu or hangover.  IT DOESN’T END for weeks and weeks.  Nothing helps it.  The psychological aspect of knowing there is no end in sight is almost as bad as the sickness itself. 

I tried everything.  Everything.  The wrist bands (nothing).  Ginger (nothing).  Belly Bars, Gummies, and Lollipops (nothing).  Crackers.  Which I was so sick of people telling me to eat – what, you think I haven’t tried this??  Let me save you the suspense.  Nothing helps.  If you’re one of the unlucky ones who has miserable morning sickness, there is simply nothing you can do.  Vomiting DOES NOT HELP (at least if you have the stomach flu or are hungover, it provides you temporary relief).  Certain smells will make it worse.  Foods and even water will make it worse.  Prenatals definitely make it worse.  Heck, even toothpaste made it worse.

I have vomited or nearly vomited at home, at work, at the gym, in the car, and on the bus (commuter bus to work).  In fact, workouts were stopped after the first month of pregnancy until after the 4th month of pregnancy when the sickness started to ease up.  There is nothing worse than being in a public place, or sitting on a bus, and concentrating with all your might – do not throw up, do not throw up, do not throw up.  I withdrew from my friends.  I stopped walking the dog.  I stopped eating.  I basically spent those first few months in bed, on my couch, or in my office chair.  I grew depressed.  The ongoing sickness begins to take over and overshadow everything else, and depression during this phase of pregnancy is very real.  I became ambivalent about the pregnancy.  I told myself this was it, never again.  I started to second-guess our decision.  Hubby felt helpless, unable to relieve me, and took over the household chores, etc.  Not a fun time for either of us.

A few things I did learn though:

  • Prenatals: take them at night.  Don’t get me wrong, you will still feel sick all day, but the urge to vomit immediately after taking the prenatal will occur right before bed, in the comfort of your own home, vs. when you are rushing to get ready for work, driving to work, or sitting in your office.
  • If it doesn’t smell good, get the heck out of there.  FAST.
  • No big meals.  In fact, no real meals at all.  Small snacks all day long seemed to help me keep it down.
  • Stop the workouts.  Second only to feeling like you have to throw up on a moving bus is having to run off of a Treadmill or Stairmaster to make it to the gym restroom on time.  A bit embarrassing to say the least.
  • Sleep.  And then sleep some more.  Besides being simply exhausted, those hours will provide you a temporary reprieve.

And trust that it WILL end.  Maybe not for 4 months, maybe not for 6 months.  I’ve even heard stories of poor women who suffered all the way up until their babies were born.  But there IS an end in sight.  Just get through the next snack, the next meal, the next day.  Take care of yourself. 

And if you’re one of the lucky ones who has little to no nausea, ENJOY IT!  Round Two you may not be so lucky.

Take Two

So now we’re worried about maintaining a pregnancy.  We decide, given that we are now convinced that we are going to have issues, to try again immediately.  Well, “immediately” as in after the 1-month waiting period recommended by my doctor. 

Boom.  What do you know?  The first month we try we get pregnant.  Wow.  I expected more of a fight.  This time the reaction is cautious.  A tentative excitement.  We say things like “I won’t get excited until the 3 month mark” or “I won’t get excited until we can feel it move.” 

We go for the first appointments and ultrasound.  The doctors are now treating us with an extra sense of priority, I presume because of our age and previous loss.  We see the little bean on the screen.  Literally looks like a bean.  A jumping bean, bouncing all over the place.  We try not to get excited.

We go in for another ultrasound.  Then a third, then a fourth.  I’m told this is not typical.  The doctor is doing this to reassure us that yes, this pregnancy seems viable and the little bean is growing.  And growing.  Now we can make out limbs.  And it’s still jumping around all over the place.

My HCG levels rise normally.  In fact, they get pretty high.  We worry about twins.  But try not to get excited.

I’m terrified of losing another pregnancy.  I read somewhere that baby aspirin has helped some mothers maintain pregnancies.  One of hubby’s family members confirm that this worked for her.  I ask the doctor – she says, it can’t hurt, it may help, go for it.  So I begin taking 1 baby aspirin daily in addition to my prenatal.

Morning sickness doesn’t subside this time.  In fact, it becomes worse, all-encompassing.  Bittersweet.  I take this as a positive sign, having heard that the sicker you are, the “stronger” the pregnancy.  Of course, the flip side is I am utterly miserable.  Those pregnancy books, which spend a sentence or two describing “slight nausea in the morning” as a first trimester pregnancy symptom can SHOVE IT.  More on this later.

More blood tests, more ultrasounds.  We now decide “not to get excited” until after either an amnio or CVS testing.  I’ll describe this later.  Still haven’t shared with anyone besides my sister.

But every day, I become sicker.  My belly begins to swell.  My workouts change.  Everything starts changing.  And I know, that this time it’s happening.  Happy.