Adventures in Pregnancy : The Lemons

I’m still (THANKFULLY) riding the high that is completing a second advanced manual and earning the Toastmasters Advanced Communicator Bronze award last night.

To be clear, I was crap.

Pale. Stiff. Sweating. Lots of uhms and ahs and unconscious pacing.

In true tech fashion, I was slapping the slides together seconds before the meeting started.


It’s done! And filed! And hopefully the point will be awarded to our club in time to earn the Presidential’s Distinguished Club award.

I know. I know. You want to hear about the pregnancy.


Let’s talk about pregnancy and vomit and blood and piss. YOU’VE BEEN WARNED.

Today is fourteen weeks.


The results from the amniocentesis arrive tomorrow. Unfortunately, I don’t have a time tomorrow, just tomorrow. I also have an appointment with a psychologist to discuss the test, the results (if they’ve arrived in time) and the next steps.

To process.

I want to do a little comparative analysis, something that dawned on me just a few nights ago, on this pregnancy versus the last one. I realize you’re not supposed to compare the kids, but damnit, everyone does it and I’M GONNA DO IT NOW.

The PROS.alpha pregnancy was amazing.

Yes, I threw up every day of the entire pregnancy. Yes, I had hives cause I was allergic to being pregnant.

But I was happy.

Like surreally ecstatic.


It was really weird.


This time. And I’m calling this the PROS.t pregnancy cause they’re not beta and charlie, they’re twins. This time is miserable.

I’m throwing up SIGNIFICANTLY more. And every time I throw up, I pee.


I started a new job at work RIGHT before I realized I was pregnant / started showing symptoms and have this overwhelming guilt of first impressions. That adds pressure and stress.

And then we found out it’s twins. Which is fucking awesome. But also adds stress.

And then we found out one of the fetus’ has a thicker nuchal fold.

There might be a chromosomal anomaly.


It’s a lot.

The morning after the amniocentesis procedure I threw up in the shower, as I do every morning cause as I said, PEE.

And more than piss came out.

There was blood.

I stopped puking.

I dried off.

I got dressed.

I called the hospital, “I need to speak English. I’m enrolled in the POP poli clinic. I had a procedure yesterday and there’s blood today. I need to come in.”

“When is your birthday? And last name?”

I started shaking, “Vier en twentig. Mei. Ses en seventig. Leander.”

“Can you be here in an hour?”


“How will you arrive?”

“My husband will drive. I’m shaking too much.”

“Good. See you soon.”

I hung up.

I called Pontus.

“There’s blood. I need you to come home and drive me to the hospital. I’ve already called them and they’re expecting us.”

“I’m on my way.”

I hung up the phone.

And started crying. Now that the logical steps were done and I only needed to wait for Pontus to arrive, I crashed heavily onto the emotional side and SOBBED.

But didn’t vomit.

As soon as Pontus arrived, I slipped back into this cold logical robot mode, put on shoes, grabbed my wallet and walked out the door and into the car. He drove us in, we parked, and walked to the cafeteria where I shoved breakfast down my throat and bought an extra chocolate milk JUST IN CASE.

I was trembling now.


This low grade tremble that I only became aware of if I looked hard. And I couldn’t stop.

We went up to the gynecology department and the doctor took us straight into the sonogram room where I repeated ‘amniocentesis’ and ‘blood’ and such and she did the exam.

I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding when I finally saw both twins MOVE.

Cause one of them was absolutely STILL for HOURS.

Okay, just seconds.


The doctor gave her okay after watching their hearts beat for a bit and advised me not to lift anything heavy – including PROS.alpha. And no exercise. And no tampons.

And no sex.

For a week.

If the blood is bright red or there’s cramping, I’m to call and go back in.


Therefore today is about waiting. And self care. And distractions.

I plan on reading a lot. And watching a movie or two. And escaping the HOLY SHIT THIRTY DEGREE WEATHER as much as possible. There will likely be more vomiting, but hopefully less PISS.

And hopefully after this stressor of the pregnancy is resolved, it’ll become a little less miserable and little more happy.

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