The First Trimester

I’ve spent much of the first trimester googling the following:

“how to survive the first trimester”
“what helps first trimester nausea?”
“when does nausea subside in pregnancy?”
“pregnancy sucks”

My first 7 weeks have been interesting to say the least. To start, my body experienced pregnancy twice in a just over a month. That is a lot of hormones.

At 5 weeks, I was diagnosed with a sinus infection, but was not given antibiotics right away because of the pregnancy. I tried to fight the infection for a week before taking medication, and it was literally the worst week I have experienced in a long time. After taking medication, I began feeling incredibly nauseous all the time.

It is very difficult to be in the world when you are always hungry, but all kinds of food you normally enjoy looks disgusting to you, and you are simultaneously nauseous and don’t want to eat at all. I have tried a few different things to combat nausea, and have found that lemons, sparkling water, walking and fresh air seem to be doing to trick. Also, I have to spend extra time in bed in the morning with some kind of carb-heavy snack. I go to bed before 9pm on most days.

I miss the world and my friends. I miss being my full-self at work. I remember the days where I could teach 3 hours without passing out immediately afterwords, and the days I didn’t have to take naps under my desk at lunch.

I miss having something theoretical, political, or humorous to say about getting queer pregnant.

For now, I will just try to survive the next 5 weeks and hope that second trimester brings some relief.

Rainbow Baby

We’re pregnant again.

Two home tests and one much-awaited blood test confirms it. Pregnant.

Rainbow babies are real.

After our miscarriage, I went to Winnipeg for doctors appointments and acupuncture. Three people told me that the post-miscarriage window of fertility was true. Three is a sign. I called our donor and drove back home. We inseminated late that evening and fell asleep in each others arms.

Norse was meant to meet me in the city that evening, as we were about to travel to Las Vegas. We wanted to go South for my 30th birthday, but the outbreak of Zika during our first pregnancy changed our plans. After the miscarriage, we really need a break from reality. We woke up early, drove back to Winnipeg to catch our flight, and spent my birthday hiking in Red Rock Canyon. We made a Scorpio in the desert.

When we returned to the 204, we both had classic post-vacation- how is it still fucking winter here?- blues. Plus, I had (what I thought was) pretty incredible PMS. I was uncharacteristically short with Norse, and I cried my eyes out uncontrollably to an Usher song in a grocery store line-up. When my period was three days late, I was convinced that my cycle was thrown off from the miscarriage. Finally, I took a test to confirm I wasn’t pregnant.

The positive test came with all kinds of heavy sobs and curse words. I couldn’t believe the results. I was terrified of losing a pregnancy again. Norse was up North giving a presentation on how to be cool to homos like us. I wrote a sweet congratulatory note, taped it to the outside of the door, and anxiously awaited their return.

I feel different from my last pregnancy. In addition to coming down with a cold (thanks to a lowered immune system so my body doesn’t reject the developing fetus), I am exhausted and become nauseous if I don’t eat enough during the day. So far, I’ve craved yam maki roles and lentil curry.

I am weirdly teary, too. After watching the new Ghostbusters trailer, I cried telling Norse how great it was that we are going to be raising a child at a time where an all female (and super lesbionic) cast would be their reference point for the franchise.

We’re 5 weeks today.

We are cautiously excited. We know what is feels like to have a big loss, and instead of preparing for the worst, we’ve convinced ourselves to be excited and happy. Everyday I’m still pregnant, I’m one day closer to carrying a baby to term.