Posted by: Kate | January 10, 2010

In Other News…

Well, actually… there really isn’t very much in the way of other news.  I’ve found the combination of pregnancy and opiate withdrawal to be damn near all-consuming.  I have a few hours each evening in which I’m feeling better, well enough to help the kids with homework and pitch in with dinner prep or cleanup, but that’s about the extent of things.

The overnights are very hard, especially because of their sheer unpredictability; some nights I’m able to sleep, with the typical pregnancy-induced trips to the bathroom, and that’s just fine.  Other nights, I’m up many, many times, awake because of unbelievably dry mouth or whole-body restless leg jolts or pain, and quite simply unable to find sufficient comfort and relaxation to sleep.  Last night was even funner than usual, because on top of that list of delights, I had either a GI bug or a bad reaction to something I’d eaten, and was up at least eight times, that I could count, trading off one misery for another.  I was ill enough to cancel my monthly massage this morning – “I’m feeling so unwell that I can’t do this thing that always makes me feel much better, sorry” – and when I was finally exhausted enough to fall asleep, around 11:00 in the morning, I stayed asleep until 3:00 in the afternoon.  Have I mentioned yet how grateful I have been for Willem’s presence and help and support through this??

But I think – no, let’s go all crazy-optimistic and say I know – I’m coming out on the end of it.  I took the last dose of Opana yesterday afternoon, and thus we’re in the end stages.  I expect a few more days of my body going, “OK, how about now?  …now?  …or, now?” and then I’ll have a new status quo, whatever that may be.  I see my OB-GYN on Wednesday, for the typical checkup plus the always-lovely glucose tolerance test to check for gestational diabetes, and I’ll be able to confidently report then that I have felt regular, strong fetal movement, and that as far as I can tell there has been no change in that through the withdrawal process; no more or less frequent activity, nothing that would strike me as agitated or unusual.  Not that I can actually tell, of course, but as far as I can figure, things are going well in there.

And in a display of optimism, I went to Babies Backwards-R-Us on Saturday, and now we own a carseat, stroller and changing pad.  We’re still light years away from where we need to be, baby-stuff-wise, but at least now they’ll let me take it home from the hospital and I’ll be able to change its diapers, once we buy some.

I just feel like there is a light at the end of this tunnel, though of course it’s easy for me to say that right now because it’s evening and I have consistently felt pretty good in the afternoons and evenings – it’s those damn overnights, and the mornings after, that get me – but really, I’m starting to think I might actually make it through this with some semblance of sanity, without having abandoned dignity and gone begging back to the doctor for just one more course of meds, with the confidence that I did everything precisely according to medical advice.

I’m not often abrim with pride about my own actions, but if I pull through this all the way I expect to, I will be.  It was hard, hard, hard, and I never once considered quitting or backsliding.  And of course I didn’t do it alone, but that’s the bliss of a good marriage: I never even had to consider it.

So, yeah.  No other news for now.  But be prepared for this to convert to a very heavily photo-intensive kind of place, fairly soon; my next project, once I can sustain the focus and effort to do it justice, is to digitize all of our photos up to 2005.  Which is a lot.  And, of course, they all have a story…



  1. Kudos to you for taking this on. I know it has been incredibly hard, but when it’s over, you will have every right to be very, very proud of yourself. And a pat on the back for Willem for being such a good guy all the way around.

  2. I don’t know how you do it, but… you’re doing it. I hope the light at the end of the tunnel is closer than you think.

  3. Not to make light of what you are going through but if you go back into psych life you will have an insider’s view. That will broaden your incredible grasp on the subject and the clients. I know just trying to stop antidepressants is very incapacitating so I can’t imagine opiate withdrawel. I do know from a nurse’s point of view they’re a pain in the ass. Maybe we, as nurses, need to remember empathy and compassion. I am so very proud of you.

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