Checkup

Well, the Braxton-Hicks relaxed their grip on me long enough for me to make my appointment with my OB yesterday. While there, I found out the following:

1) I had lost a few pounds. (How many exactly, I'm not sure. I'm guessing 2 or 3.)
2) My BP is fine -- 122 over something-or-other. So at least I don't appear to be heading toward preeclampsia. (I know; fingers crossed.)
3) I have a lovely little yeast infection. These are uncommon with me, but what the heck, I might as well be thoroughly uncomfortable, right?

Dr. S and I also had a chat about the Braxton-Hicks. I found out that some of my so-called contractions might actually be baby movements, and some of them might be my fibroids "popping up" from the uterus. (I know; I had no idea they ever did that. Reminds me of Nessie's head peeking up from Loch Ness or something. Creepy.)

The thing is, though, I think I have some weird synthesis of all of the above. One typical contraction might start with a little walnut-sized lump suddenly appearing to the left of my bellybutton (that's the fibroid). Then something hard surfaces under that and kind of pushes (and that's the baby) ... and then my uterus decides it has been outraged enough by these shenanigans and I get the "official" BH, with characteristic tightening/hardening all the way across the top of my uterus.

Does this sound like fun? Because if it does, I'm not telling it right.

Just to add joy to this, D. read an article in the new Twins magazine about Dr. Luke's book on nutrition for multiples. After reading the article and then hearing me mention I had lost a couple of pounds, he had now decided his new mission in life is to hound me to eat enough. Thanks, honey.

An example: He brought me dinner in bed tonight because I was having BH again. He had HEAPED the plate with pre-cooked chicken strips (which he picked up at the grocery store today), green beans, and pasta. Turned out he had bought "cajun" chicken strips which were far too hot for me to just eat outright, so I would eat one strip and then take the burn out with a few green beans. I managed to eat about half what was on the plate -- not bad, I thought, for a woman with a tummy that is getting severely squished these days. But D. is wretched at estimating amounts of things (he can't eyeball a cup of something to save his life) and accused me of not eating anything at all. Well, duh ... I mean, I didn't take before and after photos or anything. Sorry, hon. The thing that really kills me about this, though, is that just a couple of days ago, when I was stuck in bed, he couldn't be bothered to come in from his project in the garage for the entire afternoon to see if I needed anything. And that was on a day when I was seriously stuck in bed.

I wouldn't trade D. for all the tea in China ... but at the moment, I could use a little vacation from him. Just a leetle one. Guess that's not going to happen when I can barely drive across town by myself now. Oh, well.

One bright spot: I absolutely could NOT get comfortable in bed last night, so I took a Tylenol. I finally fell asleep, and woke up, not two hours later -- which is what has been happening lately -- but with sunlight streaming through the window. First time in ages I've slept through the night, and I felt a lot better this morning. I think we'll have to repeat that experiment tonight!