So I’ve been feeling really weird lately (and don’t you hate it when people start sentences off with “so?”). Unhealthy, if you will, likely from the fact that I rarely do more than scavenge the scraps from my kids’ plates because why would I make myself an entire sandwich when Zoe didn’t even touch her half, and Claire left me all of her grapes, and Rachel refused to eat the pretzels she asked for, and put them all together and you pretty much have a full meal. This morning? I had an English muffin and two forkfulls of leftover eggs that no one wanted.
I’ve fallen off the running wagon (again) just due to the fact that I’ve been so tired from staying up too late, getting up too early, and not getting a break. I committed to running the Capital 10k this year, only I never signed up, so really there was no commitment at all. So now my focus has shifted to next year, and who doesn’t love a whole year’s worth of procrastination and excuses ahead of them?
The kids have been sick, which is usually okay because all they want to do is watch movies. Only this time around they weren’t sick enough to lay around all day, but they were just sick enough to drive me crazy with their boredom and refusal to do anything but pick on each other. I would blame the fatigue and subsequent lack of running on them, but my routine started wavering long before the fevers came.
And I’ve been tired. So tired. I took TWO naps the other day, which is unheard of. All three girls slept in the afternoon thanks to the sickness, so I hit the couch. And then since that apparently wasn’t enough, I crashed again for a 30 minute power nap right after they went to bed in the evening.
But wait! I’m not done yet. In the mornings I’ve been fraught with some, um, discomfort and nausea that both come in waves. And at various times during the day I have bouts of sciatic pain. I feel like a walking piece of crap, I tell you. Or a hypochondriac.
Fatigue. Falling asleep at random times. Nausea. Sciatica. Oh, and cramps.
All symptoms I felt when I was last pregnant.
You can imagine that I have been freaking out quite a bit.
But I’m not. At least that’s what First Response told me, and really what are the odds of a) getting pregnant on my UID (well, actually they’re 1 in 1000, but wouldn’t that be just my luck?); and b) getting a false negative on a 99.9% accurate pregnancy test?
Note to the curious: Although normally your best friend, Google will turn into your WORST ENEMY when you try to research the chances of getting pregnant on an IUD and getting a false negative pregnancy test. Just don’t do it.
So I freaked, called the doctor and basically bit my nails to the quick until my appointment the next day. The verdict?
I’m not pregnant.
You probably knew that. As did my husband. And my doctor. And all of her staff who are now laughing at the crazy lady who thought she was with child because she had a tummy ache and was a little tired.
My doctor is so nice that she almost seems fake sometimes. I knew she thought I was making a big deal out of nothing, and it was hard for me not to read a little condescension in her voice. But she did the full work up of checking placement of “the device” with a manual test (that’s fancy talk for “she had to look up my dress”), a sonogram, and then just to make sure that she drained my of ALL of my health savings account for wasting her time with all of my ass hattery, she did a blood test.
Again, not pregnant.
I have nothing against babies, but thank goodness. Of course, all of my symptoms were mysteriously gone the day of my appointment and have yet to return (except the fatigue. That, I fear, will never go away).
And now I’m starting to think that the tummy ache may have been from all of the cupcake batter I inevitable tasted during birthday season?
Salmonella for the win!
Stork photo credit: Jenny Rollo