It’s Thursday, and we’re in one piece.
This is super encouraging to me.
Last night, I was hoodwinked by a yoga class that I thought was regular, but turned out to be warm (I would say we were nearing the adjective hot).
It turns out, not surprisingly, that the baby and I hate hot yoga right now.
Our first thing in common, aside from our genes.
How are you feeling? my yoga instructor asked me, at the beginning of class.
Way better than I felt after sixty minutes of excessive sweating, is all that I can say.
How are you feeling is one of people’s favorite questions to ask pregnant people.
I appreciate the sentiment, I really do.
I also think they’re waiting to nod their heads in support while you tell them how awful it is to be carrying around a basketball-sized human inside of you.
For me, though, it’s not really the case.
Aside from the fact that I have to get up every hour to use the bathroom, and that as I approach my third trimester, I’m starting to slow down a little (and my carb problem is not resolving itself, as it turns out), I pretty much feel better than normal.
Because of my old lady joint disease (which I have decided I don’t feel like classifying clinically right now), I’m generally achy. My hands and feet are swollen (when my OB warned my feet could start to swell in pregnancy, I tried not to laugh at her. My feet could start to swell on a Tuesday, lady, tell me something I don’t know), and depending on how my steroids are working that day, things can be a little frustrating.
As you’re probably all sick of hearing, I’m allergic to the one drug I could really be on during pregnancy, so for me, it’s a steroid or nothing.
Some people judge you for constant steroid use, chickens, but luckily, I’ve never been one to much care what other people think.
However, after I found out I was pregnant, my doctors (because I am now the kind of person who has a whole team of them) reminded me again that during pregnancy, weird stuff happens. The disease can get a little bit better. Or a lot better.
It could also get worse, of course, because there is always a third option.
Part of the reason JW and I decided that it was baby time for us was based on this knowledge, so I held my breath and wondered if I’d get to feel any better.
I figured even if I didn’t, at least we’d get a baby out of the whole experiment.
I stayed on the steroid in a small dose through the first trimester +. I kept trying to wean myself off of it and ending up with claw-like hands, so I’d start taking it again, because nobody likes my lobster impression.
However, I started to notice that my big joints all seemed to be working (my hinges, I call them sometimes). My knees were taking me up and down stairs, and my shoulders weren’t cracking every time I lifted my arms over my head.
Most importantly, I didn’t find myself stumbling across the floor in a panic every time one of my hips started acting up.
I tried ditching the steroid one more time, and so far, so good (I’d cross my fingers, but guys, let’s not push the limits of my jenky joints too far).
So basically, that’s a long way of summing up that basically, I feel awesome. Aside from the general lack of cocktails in my life, I think I’m about to become one of those really annoying people who loves being pregnant. I hope everyone’s ready to get good with that.
If only I was into the Duggar lifestyle, I could be off meds for the next fifteen years.
Enjoy the sunshine if you’ve got it, chicks!