DMV Midtown Manhattan

Today I finally went to the DMV, after having put it off for an inordinate amount of time. Years ago when I switched my drivers license from New Jersey to New York, I had gotten so caught up with chatting to the lady who was doing my license that I didn't notice that she had entered my birth month as Aug (8) rather than March (3). Rectifying the error however required me to fax some documents in, and as a result I never got the error fixed until now when I realised that I needed to update my immigration status anyway.

The DMV was, as expected of a location right in Midtown Manhattan, busy and verging on chaotic. Still, I have to say that despite the large volume of people there, my visit was not unpleasant - most of the staff were polite and friendly enough (and definitely friendlier than the staff I remember in the NJ DMV). It was however, long, as I got shunted around because of my immigration status. I ended up spending an hour and a half there.

Even though I was really tired afterwards, I decided to walk back home, in hopes of getting exercise and physically tiring myself out more. Last night was another one of those terrible insomnia nights - I slept zero hours and had to leave home for my 10 am appointment at the DMV. When these nights happen, I really feel at my wits end and wonder how I can cope with another 4 more months, but somehow manage to keep on keeping on - during the daytime at least. In total, I managed to walk about 2 miles, with pits stops at Duane Reade, Burlington Coat Factory and Dos Toros. I hope the walk is enough to tire me out so I can at least take a nap in the afternoon, because not being able to sleep worries me a lot, especially as it affects the overall risk level of my pregnancy.

Now, as I sit in front of the desktop slowly taking bits of my Chicken plate from Dos Toros, I feel the physical exhaustion set in. I can feel my feet slightly throb still, and an ache in my tailbone (more pregnancy fun). I can also feel the heat rising within me from acid reflux, and the dryness of my eyes from yet another night of no sleep. I worry whether I will be able to even nap at all. Still, this morning, as I made a last ditch effort to try and get at least an hour of sleep, I felt several strong kicks in my abdomen. Though I feel utterly miserable physically and mentally, I am thankful at least for a sign that baby is well and active - and just maybe all of this suffering will not all be in vain.

Life Changes

In early Jan I flew home to Singapore for about a month. Right before that I been feeling very ill and weak from a whole host of gastrointestinal problems that had begun in late Nov, problems that I attributed to stress leading to a nasty flare up of irritable bowel syndrome, and gastroesophageal reflux disease - problems that I had been diagnosed with years before. This was to the extent that I had started losing weight; the only consolation I could glean from how miserable I felt.

On 15 Jan, while during an appointment with the gynae, I found out I was 14 weeks pregnant. I can safely say that the thought of me being pregnant had never once crossed my mind, and so I was incredibly shocked to see a wriggly fetus during the ultrasound. I had sat in the chair fully expecting the ultrasound to bring up cysts in my ovaries (I had been diagnosed with polycystic ovarian syndrome years ago), and instead there was a fetus, complete with heart beat and spine. I had somehow passed the entire first trimester in complete ignorance of the fact that I was now carrying another being inside of me. I can also safely say now that I know exactly how, physiologically, how shock feels.

Since then I've have faced a whole wide ranging host of emotions. Breaking the news to my friends and family was crazy and also entertaining, but at night I worried about the logistics of everything - Jon and I were supposed to move to St. Louis in late June for his fellowship, and baby's estimated delivery date is 16 July. Then there was the issue of air travel, was I well enough to travel back to NYC; and is it a good idea for me to stay there to give birth? In the end Jon and I decided that I will fly back to Singapore for the 3rd trimester, and give birth there. Jon also managed to postpone the start date of his fellowship to Aug, and so will spend July in Singapore.

Still worry about a whole host of everything, even though the big questions have been settled. Currently at 19 weeks, these are the things I worry about: Will baby turn out fine and healthy? Will I be able to sleep tonight (because I've been getting bad insomnia as a result of pregnancy hormones)? How much more uncomfortable will the 3rd trimester be (because I've had a shitty time so far)? Am I going to get gestational diabetes, or pre-eclampsia? How horrible is the birthing experience going to be? What will living in a new and unfamiliar city be like with a baby? And so the list of worries goes on, and there isn't really anything that can be done about these worries except to soldier on and let time pass, which is perhaps the most difficult thing about it all.