Archive for March, 2009

Part of me

…wants to apologize for the GiddyPregnantLady tone of this blog, which it’s had since Friday, and which it’s probably going to have for as long as this giddy-producing pregnancy lasts.

Believe me, I’m not insensitive to the fact that most – if not all – of the people reading this are in the throes of dealing with the shit-hell that is infertility.  And reading about the unexpected good fortune of a fellow-IVFer coupled with said IVFer’s annoying giddiness, has got to be about as trying as showing up to a clinic appointment and having to wade through a sea of toddlers in the waiting room.  (Why oh why do women feel that infertile women won’t mind babysitting another woman’s kids while waiting for their own appointment?)

I guess what I’m saying is that I don’t want to be like those women, but I also haven’t been able to find a babysitter for all these emotions on such short notice.  I’m over the moon – obviously.  I’m also terrified that something will happen, I mean, hell, isn’t there a bus (or maybe just a bit of hemorrhaging) out there right now with my name on it, now that I’ve let myself get happy? I don’t feel at all deserving of such a massive stroke of luck, but I also feel like I owe it to Proto-sprog to be as excited as if I weren’t afraid at all.

But I’m a group player.  I want BFPs for everyone, damnit, followed by  uneventful 8 months with fat, happy babies at the end of it all.  I want this for everyone.

And I know it’s weird whenever an IF blog turns into a pregnancy blog, as this one appears to be doing.  I hope it won’t alienate too many readers, but I fully expect many of you to leave just because it’s no longer a blog that speaks to your experience, which is normal.  But that makes me sad.  I have come to depend on this community of women (and man – hi Will!) to help me get through the unbelieveably shitty times as well as celebrating the good times.

I can’t thank you enough for celebrating with me.  It’s way too early for the boy to feel comfortable even saying the P-word, and he certainly doesn’t want to do the happy-dances I’ve been indulging in every chance I get.

But you all did.  You left generous comments of congratulations and celebration and you made my day.  Whatever happens with this, however long this pregnancy lasts, however many of you stay with me til the end, please know how much I’ve appreciated your support in this best of times.  It’s meant the world to me being able to smile with someone.  Thank you.

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1.  I’m grateful I passed one hurdle (positive pregnancy test) without even knowing I was jumping over it.  Because yesterday’s waiting for the second beta test nearly killed me.  I’m grateful – oh my, am I grateful! – just sayin’ that sometimes ignorance really is bliss.

2.  Grateful that next week’s time off is going to be interrupted by one OB appointment, but that it’s mostly just going to be time off.  I get to go up to Connecticut for Easter, which means my dog can run through the fields and come back, panting and happy, after trying and failing to catch squirrels.  It’s going to be nice.

3.  The midwife I want to use isn’t filled up yet, so I managed to get my first prenatal appointment scheduled for the end of the month.  Which means she’ll be able to “take my case”.  Always a concern, since there are only a few midwives I really clicked with last time I looked, and I feel strongly about wanting to go the midwife route.

4.  Boy surprised me by picking me up from work yesterday.  Because he’s a dear.  And because although he might not be as gushy about all this as I am, he really wants to do anything he can to make sure I have what I need to get through this as free from stress as possible.  He knows how much I resent the subway ride, so he spared me that yesterday.  He’s the best.

5.  Carrot cake – even squashed, upside down, mushed into the top of the cake-dome – is really wonderful.  I love it, and youngest stepdaughter does, too.  I’ll have to remember & make it just for her (and then not drop it) one of these days.

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hCG = 817

That means it’s doubling every 41 hours, or every 1.7 days.

Folks, it’s looking good.

Poor proto-sprog number one never doubled in 48 hours.  72, yes, but never in 48.  Proto-sprog number two started out slow, then picked up the pace once she got comfy in my tube.

Proto-sprog three seems to have figured out where to go and what to do now that he’s there.

Oh my god.  I’m pregnant.  I go in for an OB scan next week.  After that, I think they’re planning on releasing me to an OB or midwife.

Oh my god.  I’m pregnant.  This is not going to feel real until I get some symptoms, though.  Hell, who am I kidding?  It’s not going to feel real til I’m holding sprog in my arms.

Please, keep your fingers crossed for me, folks.  I am now, officially, over-the-moon happy.  Been a very long time since I’ve felt like this.

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Blood drawn, fingers crossed

Should hear this afternoon what my hCG numbers are, whether they’re rising appropriately.  Come on, little milagra, you can do it! Stick around!

They haven’t called yet.

Still waiting.

Ugh, it’s going to be a long day.

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1.  The boy’s birthday celebration went well.  Turkey didn’t burn, yet cooked all the way through.  Mashed potatoes were a hit, as was the incredibly ugly (I dropped it in front of everyone!) but delicious carrot cake.  Even the gravy was tasty.  A smashng success, and a huge relief.  Whew!

2.  It was so fun going in for my bloodwork today.  Instead of being the object of everyone’s pity, everyone was delighted for me.  It was fun NOT being despondent at my RE’s office today.

3.  The boy and I officially started playing around with baby names.  In a joking manner, but still.  I think we’ve agreed it’ll have his last name, but then I want my last name for its middle name.  He’s pushing hard for Melvin – a name with a long history in both our families.  I say, over my dead body.  I can tell it’s going to be a fun experience of compromise all around.

4.  My dog is the best.  She sleeps with her head somewhere on my body, and she’s light enough that it’s reassuring, not confining.  Almost impossible to have nightmares when your dog is protecting you so diligently.

5.  Warm bagels from the corner store.  Mmmm.

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