One thing that has driven me nuts about pregnancy (both this one and my pregnancy with Caydon) was the amount of times I had to go potty during the day and at night. It's like your body is prepping you for being up with a baby, right!? SO they say...
As annoyed for them as I have been, I now wish I COULD go potty like a normal pregnant person. My symptoms started with a bladder infection as one of my first of pregnancy (which I am too familiar with as a teacher and mommy), but it progressed to the point where I could barely stand and could hardly pee. I think I had a semi-permanent ring around my butt from trying to go pee so many times... probably every 5-15 minutes, with no luck. My bladder continued to grow full and the pain increased.
Under the advice of my amazing midwife, I went in with Cay last night to get some meds.
Hopefully the only time this baby will see mainstream medicine throughout this pregnancy:
The bladder infection obviously got worse, and it turned into a full-blown UTI. Now I am a step away from a Kidney Infection, as well as a catheter and hospitalization. Because, you know, I am A- trying to avoid all things mainstream medical this pregnancy and B- don't have maternity insurance (which should be fine considering A, but this new issue is a little bit of a curve ball. Apparently baby girl likes softball? Or, as Luke and Cay would say, baby boy likes baseball!?)
Apparently, the point of the infection that I am at now is a threat to the pregnancy. Scary stuff. I am on a "Safety B Level" medicine that makes me feel even more like dirt and is "possibly safe" for the baby. I don't like that, one bit. I am avoiding ultrasounds and all sorts of testing, as well as planning a very natural home birth, all in hopes of keeping this baby safe and healthy, and now I have to take meds in order to fight this infection. Boo.
"Listening" to the baby aka mommy's gurgling tummy.
The only positive right now is the incredible attention Cay is showering me with (Luke no-showed it though he did grocery shop for me this evening at his own will... showed up with 6+ bags of food and cases of gatorade. Maybe his love language for this baby is in food!?), as well as the fact that I feel like I have a tap dancer/tiny ballerina using my bladder as the stage. We have our own medicine, called "love," growing pretty quickly around here. Someone is SO excited to have a baby and doesn't quit with the kisses, not that I mind.
Please think positive thoughts for the baby! Grow, baby, grow.