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Triathlete Blog

H is for Here We Go Again…

By February 29, 2016No Comments

It is with much excitement (and a respectable amount of fear) that I announce we are expecting our third child in mid August.

Here we go again …

Turns out after two Ironmans in under a year and at age 40, I still had a few good eggs left.

Actually, one.

Out of 7 retrieved, ONE was a good egg.

But hey, good news: one good egg is all it takes. And this one is a boy. He was transferred in early December and thus began my search for AM I PREGNANT clues. In which every symptom, twinge or feeling is late night researched on Google. Because, you know, after going through this so many times I still can’t tell if I’m pregnant? Five days after transfer, I tested positive. A flurry of emotions ran through my veins – joy, disbelief, excitement, OH MY GOD WHAT HAVE WE DONE, along with a heck of a lot of progesterone.

I am fast approaching 15 weeks. Luckily, the first trimester was fairly smooth sailing. With Max, I didn’t feel very pregnant, I just kept getting bigger. With Mackenzie, I was oppressively fatigued and nauseous for 18 weeks. The only cure: Cheez Its (I wish I was kidding). This time around it’s just like Max. Very few days of nausea but otherwise, I feel sort of like me – just getting bigger.

But I can’t stop eating chocolate.

And speaking of getting bigger. From the moment of transfer, I believe my uterus got the memo and easily stretched out like a pair of fat pants, looking up at me and saying we know where this crazy train is going, might as well get comfortable. I probably could have worn maternity pants at 8 weeks but had high hopes I could make it through 14 weeks shoe-horned into my usual jeans.

I can’t shake this feeling that though my body can do this, perhaps I should be thinking about retirement?  Like there should be a television show about me: 40 and pregnant. I remember a few years ago, waiting in the preschool line, one of the moms was carting around an infant carrier. She told her friend how #3 was an accident. They didn’t expect it or want it because she was so old – 36! Please. 40 is the new 30 until your body realizes you’re trying to do something that it is prepared for at age 12. Then 40 is like – we’ve heard of a midlife crisis but couldn’t you just buy a red sports car and leave your ovaries out of it? We’re tired already!

We’ve gotten mixed feedback from friends and family. When people do the math and realize you’re going to have 3 kids they look at you like they won’t see you for another 18 years. You might not. Keep in touch over Facebook, ok? Those with 3 kids already share war stories from the trenches. It’s complete chaos. Three puts you over the edge. You’ll be doing nothing but zone defense. Those with 2 kids look at us with fear for our safety as they remind us you will be outnumbered.

But it was also just the other day that another friend asked are you done after this? Funny thing is I didn’t even consider it until my 7 week ultrasound. The big one with the specialist where he releases you to your OB if everything looks ok. Everything looked ok. He extended his hand to me and said congratulations, so I’ll see you back here in a year for #4? I reminded him I will be 41 this year. It’s whatever you want, Elizabeth. And I got to thinking – is 3 enough? Is this going to be like Ragbrai where I couldn’t stop going until I hit my 5th year? Is this how my friend ended up with 6 kids – she just couldn’t stop until she hit a number that just felt right?

Walking into the doctor’s office pregnant with your third child also brings interesting reactions. The first time my OB saw me she said I never thought I would see you again. Didn’t you swear off more kids after Mackenzie? Even talk about using a surrogate? In my defense, I was 6 months post-partum and the experience of being large, pregnant and then sleep-deprived was still fresh. It fades over time and at some point you find yourself overwhelmed with this urge of I could totally do that again, 40 weeks is nothing.


I sat down with the nurse midwife for my initial consultation, which seemed a little unnecessary considering this was my third go around. Isn’t there an express lane? We go through the same series of questions from the last two pregnancies and then she extends a book towards me: Your Pregnancy.

I suppose I don’t need to give you the book, do I?

Please don’t.

I’ve been exercising. True confession: I like when things slow down.  I like reconnecting to the joy of just moving. Everyone should spend a year away from the sport – recharging, enjoying, gaining perspective. With Mackenzie I had to give up exercising for the first 9 weeks. This time around, I stayed active throughout. I recovered from Kona then jumped back into 4 weeks of a lot of swimming, some running and strength training. By late November, I was swimming some of the fastest splits of my life knowing that on December 9th it would all come to an end. You learn to really appreciate your fitness and speed when you know it will disappear on a specific date! I told myself to bottle up that feeling of ease and awesomeness because it might be over a year before I see it again.

Since the transfer, I’ve stayed very active. I moved my workouts to the morning to accommodate the surge of energy I have that lasts about 2 hours in the morning before I slowly shut down from kid fatigue, work fatigue and 40 year old fatigue.

By the way – giving up coffee? Not unless you think my 18 month old can do the driving. But as a compromise, I’ve gone half caf.

This not being my first rodeo, I have a pretty good idea of what I can do for exercising. I swim varied speeds, 3000 to 5000 yards at a time. I bike short/high power intervals and a lot of big gears (always less than 90 minutes). I run at a mostly easy pace. And my longest run since Kona? 7 miles – ONCE.  Seriously. Of course my paces and watts have slowly diminished and my heart rate has definitely changed. But that’s a typical part of the process. And I know that in one more trimester, the speeds I’m moving at now will be flying compared to then.

The third time around means I also get to look forward to my third c-section. And because of that and my geriatric age, sadly, I won’t get to experience the full 40 weeks of pregnancy. They will only let me go to 39 weeks.

Wait a minute…


I won’t bore the readers with too many details of this pregnancy. So here’s a quick synopsis of where this train is going: every week, I gain a pound. Some weeks, due to excessive chocolate consumption, divine intervention or wicked constipation, I might gain two. In early June, when we take a family vacation to Disney while I’m 30 weeks pregnant I will assure myself that I found the one thing hotter than last year’s run at Kona. By mid summer, I’ll be doing workouts that consist of 10x (:30 jog/:30 walk/:30 duck behind neighbor’s tree to take a pee). And by late August, I will be chomping at the bit to feel like myself again.

If you’re looking for more information on exercising through pregnancy, coming back after baby or fertility treatments – search back through archives. It’s all in there. And, as always, I’m happy to answer any questions you have over email.  I get them a lot so don’t be afraid to reach out.

I’ll return to the letter series of blogging with “I” next week. Until then, get out your stretchy pants and eat a few Cheez Its.  Time to celebrate!