August 31, 2010
Score!
J to Erin tonight: “My calves are so sore. After all the stairs (while we were hiking) the other day and then mowing the lawn last night (our lawn is on a tremendous slope), they really hurt.”
Erin to J: “I’m growing another person. I win!”
I plan on using that for the next 6 months 🙂
I got a great night’s sleep last night—9 hours and I’m not even sure I woke up to go to the bathroom. I sleep rather deeply under normal circumstances, so it’s entirely possible that I did at some point and just have no recollection of it. In an ironic twist of fate, my snoring kept J awake. I don’t normally snore but it seems like poetic justice since his has kept me awake for several nights in the last week. Perhaps tonight we can both get a good night’s sleep.
The baby’s been moving a ton this afternoon and evening. It’s mostly just random spots of light pressure inside my uterus, but she’s all over the place. I love that. I’ve never felt her move this much before—this is probably more than I’ve felt her move during every day of the last week combined. She just feels so strong and robust, and it gives me so much hope.
What a great way to enter the second trimester.
13w3d
August 30, 2010
Just a pre-warning
That I will be saying something on FB sometime this coming week regarding this baby’s (hopeful) arrival in March-ish. I know that pregnancy announcements always throw me, even when I already knew they were coming, and didn’t want to do that to anyone here.
J decided that I was getting too nervous about telling people on the 1st and that we should just do it. So he dialed my parents and said “Here, talk.” I said he had to tell them, that I couldn’t do it and as my dad answered, he said “You’re the knocked-up one, you tell them.” I don’t think my dad quite caught it but it did mean that I didn’t have much choice.
We got in touch with all important members of my family that night but couldn’t reach J’s parents, so we couldn’t call anyone else in his family until we’d told them. We managed that on Saturday night and now everyone in our families know. I still haven’t told many of my friends IRL or anyone at work besides my boss, so the FB thing will wait until I’ve had a chance to do that.
I don’t know that I’m happy that we’ve told. In some ways I am, since that means that I don’t have to keep hiding it. It’s getting tougher to hide anyway. My patience is at an all-time low, probably because I can only sleep for about 6 1/2 hours a night now—and that’s interrupted twice by having to go to the bathroom. My belly has changed shapes and surprisingly has less definition to it than it did a few weeks ago—things have spread width-wise instead of out. I can find the baby’s heartbeat with the doppler (thank G-d) and feel it move occasionally, but not nearly often enough to make me feel comforted. I get migraines about once a week still, which sucks and isn’t exactly helping my patience level.
Mostly, though, I’m just irritated that now that everyone knows, that’s all anyone can talk about. We talked to my parents again tonight: “We just got back from camping. It was great—we did a lot of hiking and…what? Yes, I feel fine. I had to hike a little more slowly but I don’t think it was a bad idea. No, sleeping on the ground isn’t going to hurt anything except my shoulder. We’re planning on going camping again in October and…what? No, I don’t think my midwife will have a problem with that. I wasn’t even going to mention it to her. No, I’m not seeing an obstetrician. Yes, my midwife delivers babies in the hospital. No, I don’t think I need to see an OB…” and on and on. Seriously. I was so ready to hang up after about 5 minutes.
And, probably because my patience is so low, I’m pissed at J for trying to pretend that we didn’t know about this two months ago and just waited to tell people. He thinks people will get upset if we tell them we’ve known for that long and didn’t say anything. I’m not hiding that I’ve known. I’ve told people that we knew the morning we went on our cruise. I don’t care if his mom is upset that we didn’t say anything for a week when I first tested +, when I was bleeding and cramping everyday. And I don’t think she would be upset, even though she doesn’t know about our m/c, any chemical pregnancies, or much of what we’ve gone through to have this baby. I’m not about to pretend that I wasn’t doing fertility treatments, that I didn’t know I was pregnant, that it hasn’t been easy, etc. He wants everything to be all sunshine and roses—well, eff that. It’s not. IF never is.
And I was extremely pissed at how many people, when told that we were expecting a new baby in March-ish, asked “One of your own or are you adopting again?” before ever offering congratulations. Aside from the whole “One of your own?” issue (which I answered in each case with a good-natured “Yes, one of our own. We already have two of our own. This will be a third of our own. I’ll be giving birth to this one, if that’s what you’re asking.”*), would it be less-deserving of congratulations if we were adopting our next child? It made me remember that, indeed, many people felt the need to share dire warnings about adoption rather than congratulate us when K was joining our family. And since I know that our next child (the one after this one) will come to our family through adoption, I hate knowing that we got congratulations this time that won’t be there next time. Each child deserves to be celebrated, and I am pissed on behalf of my children knowing that so many people see the way that they entered our family as more defining (and therefore “less-than” in the case of adoption) than the fact that they are loved and wanted children.
And beyond that, it ticked me off how many people, after offering congratulations, said “I’ll bet you want a girl!” or “Maybe this one will be a girl!” The hell with that. I have two fantastic boys and if we have another one, all I will feel is happiness and excitement that I get to have another one. It pissed me off most when my dad said it (actually, he said that my mom and MIL would be happier if it was a girl) because he’s told me in the past that when my mom was expecting their third child after two girls, everyone assumed he wanted a boy and he couldn’t have cared less because he “had two great girls already”. I FREAKING DON’T CARE IF IT’S A BOY OR A GIRL. I just want the child. If I wanted to make sure I’d have a girl, we’d have skipped the whole TTC/IF thing and adopted a daughter.
I really should learn not to say anything at almost 4 a.m. when I’ve been up for 2 hours already. I think the 6 1/2 hours tonight is a pipe dream. I went to bed with a screaming migraine at 9:15, fell asleep around 10, woke up at 1:30 to go to the bathroom and then laid there for the next hour listening to J snore and being depressed about not getting into the chorus I’ve sung in for 7 years. I finally couldn’t take the snoring along with my migraine and have been downstairs since 2:30. I’m exhausted, my head aches abysmally (movement hurts me more than anything, so I can do some things while I have a migraine as long as I don’t move), and I am beyond thankful that I have no classes on Mondays.
I clearly need to get rid of this bad mood. I’m remarkably lucky to be 13w2d pregnant with someone who appears to be pretty strong and all I can do is complain.
*My grandmother pulled one of the many “One of your own?” when I told her. I happened to mention this to my cousin, who is my age, and was told that I needed to “lighten up”. I’m sorry, she was implying that my younger son isn’t as important to my family as my older son simply because said younger son is not mine biologically and I need to lighten up? I should pretend that’s OK? Maybe that wasn’t her intention and she just didn’t know the right way to ask, which is why I answered the way I did—by letting her know that all of my children are mine and giving her the right words to use. But don’t tell me to lighten up when someone uses words that insult my child. It doesn’t take half a breath for me to go all mama-bear to protect my children, and I will never lighten up about that.
August 26, 2010
Out of the mouth of babes
P, just this morning, as I was getting him his breakfast: “Mama, is the baby growing? ‘Cause your tummy looks fatter today.”
Ouch. That would be tougher to take if I hadn’t found Limey’s* heartbeat with the doppler last night (yay!**). And to give P some due, I was out of clean “Not quite as obvious” clothes today and had to go for “Not obvious but definitely frumpy” today. My top is kind of tight across my chest and belly but loose along the sides, so I just look…well-fed.
K is so sweet. Whenever he comes over to sit on my lap he asks “I not squashing the baby?” I always reassure him that the baby is fine and he can definitely sit on my lap. I’m treasuring this cuddly time now as I know that at some point, there won’t be much of a lap to sit on! He also wanted to look at his “Aachie book” again last night. This has definitely made a connection with him and made him want to know more about himself as a baby. It’s both sweet and heartbreaking at the same time—I only wish I knew more so that I could answer all of his questions. I’m hoping that our search, which we’re starting this fall, will bring some answers for him.
*We’re calling the baby “Limey” instead of “the grain of rice” now, as one of our favorite things to do during P’s pregnancy was to read a book that talked about each week of pregnancy as I hit that week. We hit “lime-sized” week last week and it stuck.
**I did finally find Limey’s heartbeat last night. I tried again when I got home from work and nothing, but then felt like I should give it another try right before bed. It took a while (I’m really good at finding my own pulse…sheesh) but I finally found Limey’s higher than I expected, near the top of my uterus. It was so clear once I found it, just perfect. That definitely made it easier to fall asleep last night. Now if only I could stay asleep for more than 6 1/2 hours a night (and that’s already interrupted by 2 bathroom breaks), I’d be in good shape!
August 24, 2010
No taking it back now
We told the kids tonight. I am still freaking out, because that was the point of no return. Part of me really wishes we could take it back but there’s no way to do that. It’s out now. We’re still going to wait to tell our families and many of our friends, and I’m hoping that P won’t tell too many of his friends on the street (because their moms are in the “tell later” group). But if he does, then so be it. We weren’t going to say anything to them quite yet but there was a very obviously easy transition in something the kids were saying tonight and I asked J “Should we tell?” He said only if I wanted to, so I took a deep breath and told them that there is a baby in my belly and they will be getting a baby brother or sister in March.
I’m not sure how I expected them to react, but P was thrilled and K wasn’t quite sure what it meant. P said that my belly isn’t big enough to have a baby and I told him that it’ll get a lot bigger before the baby’s ready to come out. K was surprised to hear that he’ll be a big brother this time and loved the idea that he’ll be both a big brother and little brother. P likes the idea of having two little siblings. P is lobbying for a girl because he already has a little brother, and K wants a little brother. I told them that one of them will be getting what they want.
Then K wanted to “See my baby book!”, which is his lifebook from Ethiopia—it has pictures of his firstmom, her home, him in the care centers, etc. We spent a good 20 minutes looking through it. He’s only recently started showing interest in it, and he’s only ever asked for it once before—and that was at a time when we were already talking about his firstmom. This was the first time he’s asked for it out-of-the-blue. And then he saw a picture in there of an Ethiopian man and said “That my daddy?” I was a little confused and pointed to J and said “No, Daddy’s over there,” but he said “No, like Aachie (the word we use for his firstmom)”. I’ve never, ever heard him ask about his firstdad before. This is around the age that kids are supposed to get curious about their first families, and I’ve often heard that it’s the firstmom they ask about—that it can be years before they ask about their firstdads. Maybe it’s because we’ve always been so open about K’s firstmom that he doesn’t really question that. Who knows? In any event, it was really hard to tell him that we don’t have any pictures of his firstdad because he died when K was a tiny baby. K asked “Why he died?” and I explained that he got really sick. We talked about that for a little while. He seems so little to be asking these questions but our policy is to keep things open and answer things in an age-appropriate way so that he’ll always know we will answer anything he asks as best we can.
While we were looking at his lifebook, P finished his homework and came over to look also. Then he touched my belly and said “Hi baby!” It was ridiculously sweet.
And all I can think is “I hope I haven’t just set them up for a crushing disappointment.” My doppler came today and I could only find my own heartbeat when I tried after the kids went to bed. I’m reminding myself that it’s the kind my midwife said is only really good after 14 weeks and I’m only 12w3d today, and that’s helping some, but what if we told the kids only to have to take it back and break their hearts? I will never forgive myself for that.
************************************
I’m still saying nothing on FB or at work yet. It will come out slowly since my “It’s not really obvious” wardrobe is rapidly becoming my “Wow, she’s getting kind of fluffy” wardrobe. So if we’re FB friends, please don’t mention it yet.
August 23, 2010
Unrecognized scars
I have always been a little bit in denial about my own infertility. Even with the PCOS diagnosis, even with the symptoms of endo, even with the 5+ years it took to get and stay (I hope, I hope) pregnant again after P, I didn’t think I was particularly scarred by it. There were times of bitterness—of course there was bitterness—and sadness, but I didn’t recognize how much it has been affecting me the whole time.
I had no idea that I would be this panicked and anxious about being pregnant. It’s subsided a lot, but I literally could hardly sleep for several days before my first blood test, my first u/s, my first midwives’ appointment—out of fear, not excitement and hopefulness. My heart raced when I walked into the RE’s office or the midwives’ office. I silently begged and prayed constantly that everything would be OK. I laughed in the office both times I heard the baby’s heartbeat, at 7w2d and 11w4d, grinned madly for the next 15 or 20 minutes, then sobbed with relief that everything sounded good so far. (This was something of a dangerous problem as I was on major highways both times.)
I went to a consignment sale last week with full intentions of purchasing a fair number of maternity clothes for work during the winter. I had also thought that maybe I’d buy a little something for the baby—just a onesie or romper. The baby clothes were right by the door as I walked in. I took one look and kept walking, figuring that I would be OK with it when I’d finished the shopping that I had to do for my boys. I bought them some clothes, then wandered a bit and finally stumbled on the maternity clothes section. It took all my willpower not to leave it. There were two other women in the aisle and I was absolutely certain that they were going to ask why I was there—heaven knows I couldn’t belong there! I felt like a fraud. I managed to choose 3 shirts before I deserted that section. With one last look at the baby section, I walked to the checkout area. One of my Bradley students ended up cutting the price tags off my clothes and I kept her talking, hoping she wouldn’t notice the maternity shirts mixed in with the boys’ clothes and ask if I am expecting. (Thankfully, it worked.)
Setting a “telling” date of September 1st back in July sounded good. Surely by then I would be more comfortable with the idea of being pregnant, and would be able to relax and simply enjoy this last pregnancy. But now that September 1st is next week, I find myself waffling. I want to back out. I want to wait until after my next appointment with my midwife, at 15w2d, before we tell anyone. As I told J, I will have no more information next week about the baby’s health than I do today. Sure, she sounded OK last Wednesday…but that was last Wednesday.
So I rented a doppler for the next two months. I never thought I would do something like that, but I think this will help until I’m routinely feeling movement. I suspect this little one is similar to P in being very active—running away from the doppler at my appt the other day was exactly what he always did—and I suspect that I’m already feeling some of those little bitty movements. I’m 90% convinced that’s what it is—not quite enough to be fully reassuring, but something. It’s not gas or intestinal rumblings. I started feeling them 2 days ago. Then again, I also had what I would have termed a Braxton-Hicks contraction had it happened a few weeks later. It was while walking up a hill, which is how I felt the first one with P also. My midwife said it could also just be that my uterus is twisting and moving a lot now as it comes out of the pelvis. Either way, I think I just have to accept that this cramping isn’t going away until this little one arrives. But that isn’t helping my neuroses.
I knew that IF had scarred me in some ways, but I guess I never fully realized how many scars I carry from it until that second little pink line showed up and never went away.
August 18, 2010
I really do heart my midwife
She’s awesome. So genuine and calming—if I have a hospital birth, I hope she’s the one on call (mind you, the other one is awesome too, and I really can’t lose).
We chatted for a while and then we listened for the baby’s heartbeat. She said she’d brought in the doppler that really shouldn’t be used before 14 weeks and so we’d try with that but if we didn’t hear anything, she would go grab the other (the other midwife was using it when she came into my room). And we heard nothing besides my heartbeat. She got the other one and listened. We heard nothing for a while, then blip. We heard a fast little heartbeat for a second that then vanished. “That was definitely the baby,” my midwife said. She chased the baby around for a while and said that the baby was really playing hide-and-seek! But then she found her again and we got to listen for a good little while. I said that I really feel like this one’s a girl and she said that’s her thought also based on the heartbeat. I told her that P’s was always in that “girl” range also, but I always felt like he was a boy. We’ll see in 6 months or so!
J thinks I’m getting my hopes up for a girl and I told him that I’m really not. The first time around I desperately wanted a boy and truly think there would have been a moment of disappointment had it been a girl. I just had my head so wrapped around having a boy, had been dreaming about having a son for so many years, that I couldn’t picture it any other way. We requested a boy when we adopted K, so there was no question there. This time, if I’m wrong and it’s a boy—I have two fantastic boys at home and can only imagine that another would bring even greater joy. If it is a girl, she will bring a new dimension and wonderful joy to our family. It’s actually a huge relief to feel that way—when I was pregnant with P, I felt so incredibly guilty that I knew I would be a little sad if the baby was a girl. It’s not that I don’t care, but I really believe I’ll be ecstatic either way this time around. No momentary sadness, just elation at the birth of our new child.
11w4d. How incredible.
August 17, 2010
Realization #1 of how teaching will be different
I’m only 11w3d. With the exception of my bra, I’m wearing normal clothes today. How come I already can’t breathe? I was gasping my way through my class this morning. Clearly, this will force me to slow down some, which my students will probably appreciate 😉
I think I need to briefly take down my work calendar. It’s a Princess Bride calendar and each month has a different character and quote from the movie on it. The August one has Count Rugen with the quote “I’m sure you’ve discovered my deep and abiding interest in pain.” Probably not the best first-impression for the students who come to my office…
August 16, 2010
Anxiety and irritability–let’s bring those up a notch
Neither one was helped by this morning, when you might recall that I was supposed to have an appointment with my midwife. They share an office with another practice, so when I got there on time and signed in, I didn’t realize anything was amiss…until 45 minutes later, when the person called me up and said “Have you been seen here before?” I said yes, 4 weeks ago I saw the midwife.
“Oh, they left. Didn’t they call you?”
No, they didn’t. And she wasn’t sure where they’d moved to, nor did I happen to have the phone number with me (and the person there wasn’t willing to look it up). I don’t have internet access on my phone and Free 411 couldn’t find their number.
It took me 40 minutes to drive there. They’re not close, but they’re supposed to be the best hospital-based midwives in the city. It took me another 30 minutes to drive to my office, which I chose because it was closer than home. I called as soon as I looked up the number and heard “Oh, I’m so sorry. I have a note here that someone tried to get in touch with you.”
Really? They must not have tried very hard because I have voice mail even if I didn’t answer the phone. And they have my e-mail address (which I’m sure of because they’d sent me a confirmation of this very appointment several weeks ago). They have my work phone number. They have J’s phone numbers for his cell and work. I’m not exactly hard to get in touch with if someone needs me for something.
I rescheduled for Wednesday as soon as I’ve dropped off P at school, but I am so super pissed, so incredibly livid that I’m not sure what to do. They really are the best hospital-based midwives in town and since I’m not sure that J will go for a homebirth, I don’t want to compromise my care at a hospital with someone who’s not as good just because they’ll have a shorter wait or better communication. On the other hand, why in the hell should I have to put up with being treated this way? Do they feel that since they’re busy, it’s not a problem if one of their patient’s is pissed at them? (Mind you, I’d think the natural-childbirth teacher who refers people to them would be one they wouldn’t want pissed off, but I’m probably overestimating the importance of the couples who’ve transferred to them on my recommendation.) Do they figure that since it’s so early in this pregnancy, I’m one of the less-important patients?
If there was a note there, on a file for someone who was supposed to have an appointment today and didn’t show up, you’d think they would have tried to call again this morning. My phone is working fine.
So now I have to wait two more days. I barely slept last night, as I was nervous and counting on hearing the baby’s heartbeat today. Now I get to suffer for another couple of days.
Fan-freaking-tastic.
August 15, 2010
Warning: whininess, anxiety, and irritability ahead
Feel free not to read…I wouldn’t want to read me whining either.
First, the whininess: While I’m not exhausted in the middle of the day as much as I was when pregnant with P, I’m still really tired. When I was pregnant with P, I’d sleep 11 hours at night and then take a nap in the middle of the day. This time, I’m unable to nap during the day, I’m not sleeping well at night, and it’s all caught up to me. I can’t stay asleep at night. Usually, I’m up at least 3 times at night and J’s snoring often keeps me awake for longer than I would otherwise stay awake each time. I keep trying to go to bed early in the hopes that I will catch up on my sleep. It keeps backfiring. The other night, I went to bed at 9:30 and was up 3 times by 2 a.m. At 2 a.m., I woke up and didn’t fall back to sleep until 5. Then the alarm went off at 6:30. I nearly cried. I keep thinking that I’m not sleeping because I’m not getting enough exercise, but I’m too tired to motivate myself to do anything. Today, I tried to nap for almost 2 hours and it didn’t work. I kept thinking that I should get up and go for a walk or get on the Wii Fit but I didn’t…I just laid there like a lump. It’s a vicious cycle. So I’m tired because I’m not sleeping, and I’m not sleeping because I’m not getting any exercise, and I’m not getting any exercise because I’m too tired.
(Now the anxiety) I don’t expect tonight to be any better. I got no exercise today. My appt is tomorrow morning at 9:30 and while I’ve kept out the DBTs most of the time, they are ridiculously intrusive lately. My hope is that this baby starts to move as early as P did—I felt him at 14 1/2 weeks, which was a huge relief when I started having Braxton-Hicks contractions a week later. Based on the hormone testing and early hearing the hb, I’m hoping this baby is as robust as P. Tomorrow, I’m desperately hoping to hear the baby’s heartbeat easily—but I know I won’t sleep well tonight. I’m just convinced that the midwife will try to hear it for a long time, then will say something like “Let’s see if we can get you in for an ultrasound today,” and I’ll know that my most desperate fear is happening.
(And last, the irritability) As a result of the lack of sleep and anxiety, I’m beyond on-edge. J didn’t clean the bathrooms last weekend like he’d promised to, so when I gave up on him yesterday and gave them all a thorough cleaning, I snapped at him. The kids normally climb all over me but my stomach is really tender and it hurts. So I’ve snapped at them. And then tonight—argh, tonight. (And be forewarned, I know this is extremely bitchy and judgmental of me.) Last year, we carpooled to drive P and our neighbor’s two kids to school in the mornings. Their kids are a 9-year-old daughter and 6-year-old son who is one of P’s best friends. We alternated weeks and when we drove, the daughter sat between the boys because K’s carseat is still one of the big-ass ones and can’t be moved. In their car, the boys sat next to each other. I assumed we’d be carpooling again this year because it worked out really well last year for all of us. The first week of last year, we drove our own kids because that way they’d have us if there was any nervousness, so when we didn’t bring it up before school started last week, I assumed that we were just doing the same thing. (You’ll note that I’ve been doing a lot of assuming here, so it really is my own damn fault that I’m irritated.) Last night we were at their house and decided to ask which of us was driving this week, and volunteered for it to be us. Then it got uncomfortable. Apparently the daughter hates riding between the boys in our car so much that she doesn’t ever want to do it and therefore, we won’t be carpooling. I offered to move the booster in our car to the middle so the boys could be together and she could be on the outside, but she won’t even consider it and they’re OK with that. Now forgive my extreme bitchiness because we do like these people and generally like their kids, but why are they letting a child dictate the needs of the rest of their family? Both boys love riding together, both families appreciate not having to drive every single week of school when we’re all going to the same place, but let’s let the 9-year-old determine the situation. It’s much better to disappoint the boys, who aren’t in the same class and rarely see each other, and inconvenience both families to appease a 9-year-old when we’re already making concessions. It seems absurd to me. I told J that I really like them but if our kids ever pull anything like this, I’m telling them to suck it up. (And yes, I can totally see the other side of the argument that the daughter deserves consideration too, so I’m well aware that I’m being a completely selfish and irritable bitch. But right now, I really resent that they didn’t have the courage to say anything until I did and that means that we’re going to end up driving every freaking day to school while they drive right in front of or behind us. It just seems so stupid.)
I really, sincerely hope that the sleeplessness resolves itself soon, because I think that will solve most of the other problems. I hate being bitchy and feeling anxious. It makes me feel wretched when I snap at people but I can’t seem to pull myself out of it. I’m going to gain 75 pounds this time around because I’m already in lousy shape and I think I’m eating worse because of the nausea. I feel like a huge lump.
And yes, I would like some cheese with this whine 😉
August 10, 2010
Seriously? Plain water???
This pregnancy has been pretty easy, aside from all that nasty spotting and the cramping that goes away but comes back a few days later. I haven’t been anywhere near as tired as I was when pregnant with P and while I’m certainly growing quite a lot earlier than I did last time, I’m still able to hide it reasonably well. My skin is oily but not breaking out (yet), and those are really the only changes.
The biggest difference has been with the food aversions and nausea. I barely had any with P. I mean, I couldn’t eat chicken from before I knew I was pregnant and baby carrots never sat well either, but most other things were hit-or-miss. There wasn’t any nausea (except for the chicken and baby carrots) but I just wouldn’t feel like eating something. Later that day, I’d be fine eating it. No big deal at all.
This time, I rarely feel much like eating. The idea of most foods makes me feel slightly sick to my stomach. When I do eat, even if it’s a small meal, I feel just as sick after eating as I did thinking about the food in the first place. But I still try to eat. Peanut butter is good—I’ve been eating spoonfuls of it. Applesauce is good. Most liquids are good.
But not water. Oh no, plain water is on the hit list of things I can’t have. The idea of drinking plain water has made me feel sick for a while but everything does that. The other night I was thirsty and thought “Hell, it’s just water. It won’t be any worse than anything else I eat,” and I drank a 12-oz glass of water. Because I was thirsty.
For the next 2 1/2 hours, I felt so incredibly sick that I wanted to throw up. It would have been better if I had. The whole time was me, exhausted (because I’d been about to go to bed), moaning, sweating, feeling awful. Freaking water. This is absurd. Nothing else has done that to me and I hope nothing else does.
Right now I can drink it with Cryst.al Light or other powdered things, but I’m not big on artificial sweeteners—they leave such a disgusting aftertaste. I think I’ll go to the farmer’s market tomorrow and get a lot of fruit to put in it (strawberries, kiwis, melons, etc.), and hope that’s enough to let me drink it.
PCOS Baby 