I thought I had it all under control – with snacks, the evil finger pricker (glucose monitor), the puke bucket, specialty morning sickness candies and vitamins, and drinks. We’d moved an extra bed into Lorelei’s room so I would be able to at least be in the same room with my very own daughter. I knew I was sick, but I had just accepted it all as “how morning sickness attacks affects Ashley.”

Until NOTHING would stay down.

Until walking 10 feet would leave me feeling drained, shaky, and like I was going to pass out.

So, I quit moving. I kept eating and I kept drinking, but to no avail. Everything came back up. My throat was raw, my stomach hurt, and I just wanted to go drift back into the sleep that kept calling my name.

I was counting down the days until October 1st – the day our insurance would take effect. The day of my first scheduled “official” OB/GYN appointment. I had plans to beg my doctor for the medicine I’d promised myself I wouldn’t take this time around – the $80 bottle of medicine meant for chemotherapy patients, only given to pregnant women when the need for it outweighed the risks. By Monday, I knew I was only 2 days away from at least some sort of improvement.

Then, my mom called. Despite my attempts to convince her that although I felt horrid, I didn’t think I belonged in the ER, she didn’t believe me. We both knew that if insurance was already covering me, I’d have gone to the doctor days ago. She called my doctor on my behalf, telling her how things were going down in our home and my doc told her to get me there. Now.

It took about 30 minutes to convince me, but then I began to shakily throw things on the kitchen table, preparing for my mom to pick us up (Steven had the only working vehicle with a carseat).

The rest is history…

I was admitted to the hospital on an hour-by-hour basis to receive IV fluids and vitamins and nutrients. They were on strict orders to only do what was necessary (no urine/blood tests since I was self pay and would have coverage in only 2 days and already had lab tests scheduled for October 1st). For the next 5 hours, they pumped vitamins, nutrients, and fluids into my body as quickly as they could and layered the warmed blankets on me as I couldn’t keep warm.

Around 9 pm, they allowed me to try a liquid only diet. I chose juice, and despite the intense burning in my mouth, it stayed down. By 10:30 pm, they were ready to let me try solids. I made a request for a simple turkey sandwich and possibly pasta salad with dressing on the side, but the cafeteria had closed hours ago and the only “leftovers” on the shelf was… a tuna fish sandwich on lumpy whole grain bread. I laughed when they announced my first solid attempt would be a tuna fish sandwich…until I realized that they were serious and then the hilarity factor dropped at high speed.

Three bites in and gagging, I decided I’d give it a rest. At least until I could get some medication.

Shortly after, Zofran was administered. Mom left. A quick call to wish Steven goodnight. And, then I turned the lights out.

I drifted in and out of fitful sleep with the pink tub/bucket beside me (just in case). The next day, it was decided that I would undergo some new (to me) treatments. During these, we found out that I’m most likely allergic to Reglan, as it left me jittery and overly anxious – almost as if I were coming off of something (or, I would imagine). It was horrible, like I was coming out of my own skin.

I don’t remember much about Tuesday – lots of fitful sleep, interesting hospital food (like pork with mango salsa), and feeling really really bad. And, lots of unplugging my IV cart so I could go pee. Alot. By 8 or 9 pm, I was discharged with strict orders to be at my doctor’s office as soon as they opened for a full looksie (ultrasound, blood tests, urine tests, etc…the works).

Then, the rest of the week was spent curled up on my parents’ couch or one of the beds sleeping and drinking and peeing and eating. Not much else. My family has been awesome, taking turns to come over to help me eat and to keep crazy L company as I try to rest and recuperate. I’ve been armed with sleeping pills, another set of vitamins, and the hard core Z meds. The idea with the sleeping pills is that if I’m asleep, maybe I won’t puke? I guess? But at 85 lbs, even the prescribed 1/2 a pill knocks me the heck out, rendering me completely useless. Which is …uh…great…except I’m fairly sure that I will have to at SOME point leave my parents’ couch and at SOME point will have to take care of my own darn kid. I’m just guessing, there, but it makes a lot of sense.

So, those are the updates. I’m just trying to figure out how I can arrange my arsenal of medicines so that I don’t end up back where I was – and trying to find a way to hopefully just be able to take care of myself and L on a daily basis for the remainder of this trimester (which is like a month left to go). Because…if it lasts for more than a month? I’m screwed.

Other random notes (for myself) at 9 weeks:

- weight unchanged.
- Dry skin AND acne? OW. So much for a pregnancy glow.
- The baby’s heartbeat is much better this week (according to the ultrasound after being in the hospital).
- Hair is getting darker in all of the wrong places, but the hair on my head is still coming out in clumps. Why can’t it be the other way around?

Next appointment is Wednesday, which is purely in place to monitor my weight and pukeage. Expect tummy pictures next week, unless things get worse.

Welcome back!