West Valley Medical Center - August 09, 2016

4 min Read Time

Okay, can I just say that my last prenatal appointment seriously rocked? Weird, I know, but when was the last time you were in and out of a doctor's office in 25 minutes? Weight, blood pressure, review of my latest blood work and a quick fetal Doppler (140 bpm, which is about as normal as normal gets). That's it. No needles, no urine sample, no probing questions. If only the DMV were that painless.

This time around, I saw Dr. Michael Robinson, one of the clinic's board-certified OBGYNs. I usually see my nurse practitioner, Karen Carloy, but the office recommended I branch out and try someone new. You see, Karen doesn't deliver as part of her practice she just provides prenatal care. So, depending on who is on-call when I go into labor, I'll have one of her colleagues for the actual delivery Dr. Robinson or Dr. Jessica Fu. Karen speaks highly of both of them, so I would feel fine with either, but I can see how it would be a little weird to meet them for the first time on the big day.

Fortunately, Dr. Robinson was really great funny, knowledgeable, fast especially considering the odd list of symptoms I showed up with. You know those women who say pregnancy was the best time of their lives? Their skin glowed, their hair was lustrous, their hormones turned them into gooey puddles of love and happiness? Yeah, not so much.

Here is a laundry list of my second-trimester (#sfw) symptoms so far:

I've Dried Out like a Pudgy, Pregnant Raisin

I'm standing in line at Old Navy with my mom the other day, when she suddenly cocks her head to the side and says, “Your hair is really dry.” My shoulders slump in defeat. My child is like a tiny, humanoid sponge sucking all the moisture from my body. My skin is starting to resemble a knock-off leather handbag. I slather on cocoa butter every morning (which I hate the smell of), but it doesn't seem to help. And even after rinse-out conditioner, leave-in conditioner, anti-frizz oil and a flat iron to tame flyaways, I'm still rocking a serious scarecrow vibe. Just in time for fall, how festive of me.

I'm Unbearably Itchy All. The. Time.

All the baby blogs say this is from your skin stretching to make room for the baby (and I'm sure the epically dry skin doesn't help). That very well may be, but do you know how many times a day I furtively glance around the room before reaching into my bra for a good, hearty scratch? The aforementioned cocoa butter is powerless against the truly indescribable level of itching taking place here. And one blog said it doesn't really ramp up until the third trimester. Are you seriously telling me it's going to get worse?!

I'm Suddenly, Randomly Allergic to Strawberries

Get this: I'm sitting on the couch a few weekends ago, eating the delicious strawberry shortcake that Cam prepared me for our anniversary. One bite, fine. Two bites, a-okay. Three bites, throat a little itchy. Four bites, throat kind of alarmingly itchy. Five bites, throat definitely starting to swell. Six bites yes, I kept eating. I'm pregnant, don't judge. I asked Dr. Robinson about this and he said it's very unlikely that it's related to my pregnancy. People develop allergies throughout their lifetimes like my mom, who randomly developed a life-threatening shellfish allergy in her 30s. The human body is just weird like that. Oh well, I'm more of a raspberry girl anyway.

I'm Also Unable to Tolerate Dairy

Without being too graphic, let's just say my first milkshake of the second trimester resulted in hours of horrifying gastrointestinal symptoms, even by pregnant-lady standards. I genuinely think my husband was worried for his safety. Since then, I've also ruled out yogurt, milk, chocolate and cheese in mass quantities. And let's face it, if I'm eating cheese, it's always in mass quantities. Unlike the strawberries, though, Dr. Robinson said it's incredibly common for pregnant women to be sensitive to dairy. For many, the symptoms ease as their pregnancy progresses, so we'll just have to see. Fat chance, however, that Cam ever lets me have a milkshake again at least not while he's in the room.

My Hormones Have Turned Me into a Seething Ball of Rage

Here's the one I really didn't see coming, so much so that I'm saving it for later look forward to an entire blog on this topic at a later date. For now, let it suffice to say that some pregnant women get weepy, others radiate happiness and others destroy Tokyo. Details coming soon.