I Burn for You

30 weeks and 2 days.

Last night was long and slow. Typically, if I find myself unable to sleep I will just lie in bed and think. I refuse to get up because my chances of ever getting back to sleep are slim to none. So I will just lie there and let my mind wander and hope that I drift off. Last night I spent about 6 hours thinking about how being pregnant is an awful lot like torture:

The first couple of months I was very excited to be pregnant again, but due to my track record I had to suppress those feelings and take on the 'wait and see' attitude. The only person I could discuss it with was Griffin and he was holding back his excitement even more than I was. Griffin didn't really want to talk about it and I didn't want to discuss it with anyone else. I felt like I was in solitary confinement.

By month three I was not only holding back on telling people I was pregnant, but also, I was barely holding back my lunch. Morning sickness kicked in in an evil way. Everything I ate made me never want to eat again. Smells would drive me out of a room. Going out for dinner was embarrassing, because I would have three bites and push my plate away. The only thing I really wanted to eat was ice cream and I knew that would be the fast track to gaining tons of weight, so I tried to limit myself as much as I could. Starvation - thy name is 'morning sickness'.

Month four saw the morning sickness pass and blind fear arrive. During the fourth month I had lots of tests done. Among these tests was the one that told us we were losing the last pregnancy. I think I held my breath for most of the month. We saw a doctor almost every week. I had so many blood tests I almost lost track of them. My doctors rarely remembered to call with the results, so I was constantly calling them. The nurses would pause when I would ask for a result, sometimes they would tell me right away and sometimes they would make me wait until the doctor could tell me. The waiting was excruciating. I don't think they had any idea how their reactions filled me with fear.

Entering the fifth month things were settling down. I was feeling good physically and most of the scary tests were behind me. This was actually my best month, and so, I felt guilty. My growing belly was becoming obvious and looked cute. People started to smile at me knowingly. Everything was going so well that I became paranoid. After all we had been through in the past, how could everything just be fine now? I was waiting for the 'gotcha', but the 'gotcha' didn't come, at least not then, but I wasn't paranoid for nothing.

Month six was the return of physical torture and first came heartburn. I had never really had heartburn and the strange feeling in my chest freaked me out a bit. It was like an itch you couldn't scratch. I sought out cold drinks like iced tea and milk and I was eating ice cream full force. The heartburn was annoying. From annoying, I went to uncomfortable. I developed some strange aches and pains in my chest. As my belly expanded it started making my ribs and muscles just below my breasts ache. It was irritating and I spent a lot of time with my arms crossed just under my chest. I bought new bras, I wore different shirts and at any chance I got I stuffed a pillow in to lift and separate. And then the real heavy duty torture began - sciatica! I was just short of wishing for death at that point.

So, here I am at month seven and the sciatica has been reduced to a mild pain in the ass. When it was really bad I felt no other pain or discomfort, so now that it is a mere dull roar, I can go back to focusing on heartburn. Burn, burn, burn. I am discovering what makes it rise up - spicy food, fruit juice, vinegar, tomato sauce, lying down, sitting up and not eating enough ice cream! Last night we went out to dinner with the in-laws to a favorite pizza joint. I ate fried jalapeno breaded ravioli, a big salad with the house vinaigrette and stuffed shells with extra sauce.

The entire time Piper kicked me. Kick, kick, kick. I thought it was because I was wearing slightly tight corduroy maternity pants and not my usual stretchy yoga pants, but perhaps she was kicking me and calling me an idiot. How could I combine so many foods together that would ignite my heartburn? The only thing I could do that would make it worse it not to eat any ice cream - and so I did just that - I didn't eat any ice cream.

I spent a couple of hours on the couch with Griffin. I moaned softly most of the time. If only I had a bit of room in my stomach, I could have topped it all off with some nice, cold ice cream - it was waiting for me in the freezer. Instead, I just tried to get comfortable and let the food digest. No such luck.

By the time we were going to bed I had eaten four Tums and drank milk and water and none of it was doing a lick of good. I rolled over and over and finally I sat up partially in bed. I had two big pillows propped behind my back putting me at a 45 degree angle. It helped the heartburn, but there was no way in hell that I could sleep like that. So I spent a few hours thinking. Actually, I would sit that way for a while and then try to lie down again and I could feel the acid and whatnot bubbling up my throat. It felt like my prenatal vitamins were still sitting at the back of my tongue. I willed myself to not throw up. The real torture here was not just the heartburn, but also the sleep deprivation. I suppose this is good practice for when Piper is on the outside, I imagine I won't be getting much sleep then either.

This morning I feel pretty good considering last night. My girth is making it rather difficult to get up, bend over and waddle around. I guess this will be the next form of pregnancy torture - "beached whale simulation". Oh, I can't wait!