15 weeks, 1 day.
So I have allergies. Bad allergies. Trees, grass, pollen, dust… Bad, bad allergies.
The way I remember it, right around the time my grandmother died of terminal cancer (I was 4 or 5), my mother told me I had allergies, and that it was a disease that I would have for the rest of my life until I died. Since my grandmother’s cancer was the only other disease I’d ever heard of that people could have for the rest of their lives until they died, I was pretty upset about. Strangely enough, I remember being more mad than afraid, and I denied the whole thing in spite of my terrible sneezing and itching and red eyes. I was not sick, and I was not going to be sick for ever, darnit! But being mad did not stop my muy macho immune system, so here I am.
And so for the past 30 years, I have depended on the miracle of modern science (“Better living through chemistry!”, my father, the chemist, would say) to make me not want to die from spring through fall every year, and all of this because nature thinks that plant reproduction should occur in a way that makes me miserable.
Living some places is better than others – when I was a young kid in Utah, my allergies were horrible. They were less bad in most of the rest of the U.S. (though still evil and formidable), were rotten in Düsseldorf (some kind of evil tree was the culprit) and are really, really bad in, you guessed it, Denver. Where I decided to get pregnant. And I’m trying so, so hard not to cave in and ask to take allergy drugs.
I fear I am losing the battle. Mostly because people have, you know, lawns. And they seem to think it’s a good idea to, oh, I don’t know, cut them.
You know that smell of freshly-cut grass? You may like it, but for me, it’s a good indicator that I have about 2 hours until my next headache. I usually give the guy mowing his lawn the same look I give smokers who light up standing right next to me at the bus stop. I know, I know… it’s irrational, but can’t they see my swollen red eyes?
And right now, after a wet spring and lots of sun, everyone is cutting their grass. Usually just as I walk by. Why? Because they hate me, that’s why. It’s a plot!!!
And so every day I can go without giving in and taking Benadryl is a victory for me and the Small Monster, but I wouldn’t count on it lasting to September…
Professional computer geek and linguist living in Germany, doing infosec stuff and being the freakiest mother ever.
Just so you know, Claritin (generic name: loratadine?) is safe in pregnancy. It may not be as wonderful as our dear friend, Benadryl, but it can take off the edge.
Ahh… I feel your pain! My allergies were AWFUL where I used to live (Erie, PA), but then I moved here (‘here’ being the DC area), and it was TOTAL BLISS. Until I got pregnant, that is. The first 10 weeks of the pregnancy were the worst, and luckily they’re getting better everyday now. But even worse than my own suffering was watching my 2 year old deal with the allergies that his oh-so-generous mother had passed down to him. Why couldn’t I have passed down my kick-ass English skills instead? WHY?
Ahhh, Claritin
I survived my whole summer in Germany on Claritin, so that’s something to consider!
Glad to hear your allergies are getting better, Caley! I’m hoping our kid doesn’t get my allergies, but I’m not very hopeful. I suspect I’ll be watching with the same dismay in a couple of years, since my brother and I got my father’s allergies, and as far as I recall, my mother could roll in the grass for hours and be just fine.
Unfortunately, spring is just a warmup for me – I get all teary and sniffly over grass in the early summer, and then, for the crescendo of misery, I get hammered by the weeds in late summer and fall! Boo!