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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Um, 5w2d? 4w3d?

Someone get me an ultrasound measurement so I know how far along I am, fer crying out loud.  This is ridiculous.  I don’t feel pregnant.  I mean, I really don’t – not just me being incredulous.  

  • Boobs aren’t sore at all.  Not even like premenstrually sore.  Which was how I knew my period wasn’t showing up any time soon.  (Isn’t women’s intuition a marvelous thing?)  
  • Skin isn’t clear the way it gets when I’m pg.  Hell, it’s not even luteal-phase clear, which is a drag.  I’m going to blame that on the DHEA, though, since it’s gotten better in the last couple of days.  
  • Not peeing more than usual.  Not even when I’m guzzling water out of a fear that I’m getting dehydrated.
  • Not more tired than usual, though really, that would be hard to gauge.  I’m always exhausted.  
  • No nausea, unless you count the quite understandable urge to yech when pulling half-frozen turkey innards out of a half-frozen turkey.  (If the boy ever starts to doubt my deep and abiding love for him, I will cite making him a turkey dinner as evidence in my favor.  Turkeys just look [and smell] so much like dead birds, you know?)

Seriously, folks, I need to be able to identify me some symptoms fast, or I’m going to start believing this was all some cosmic cock-up on the part of the lab that did my blood work.  I half believe that anyway.  April Fools day is next week, yes?  Talk about a hell of a prank to play on the infertile woman…

Enough of the paranoia.

I’m off to start the shopping trip.  Wish me luck, and the strength to get past the baby aisles without buying one of everything…

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1.  Two squirrels playing right outside my kitchen window.  Ouch.  One of them actually just ran into the window.  Oh that’s why.  The squirrel in front scored half a bagel, probably from the bakery that unaccountably likes to feed the pigeons.  Absolutely delighted squirrel.  Well, one of them’s delighted & the other wants him some of that bagel…

2.  Putting on a big turkey-dinner-performance today.  Which always makes me feel sort of excited, and sort of terrified.  Rather like starring in a high-school play.  I know everyone will say I did good, even if I didn’t, but I really want to do good…

3.  In keeping with my “this weekend is mine to enjoy” resolution, the smell of the thawing turkey nearly made me yech.  I decided to take this as an excellent sign of pregnancy instead of as evidence of my perennially squeamish stomach where dead things are concerned.  There’s a reason I was a vegetarian for almost 20 years…

4.  Speaking of yech… the dog’s acting fine after last night’s epic vomiting session.  Brought on, I’m sure, by the vast quantities of non-food she finds to eat on the sidewalks.  Old chewing gum?   Yeah!  Kleenex?  Sure!  I spend my whole time on walks telling her, “no, Nellie.  Don’t eat that, Nellie.  Spit it out, Nellie.”  It’s a great game as far as she’s concerned.  But most importantly, she doesn’t seem to have damaged herself.  Everything’s in working order, intestine-wise, and she’s not lethargic this morning.  I am grateful.  Disgusting or not, I love this dog.

5.  I get to go to Fairway today.  With the car.  Oh my.  This could be a dangerous shopping trip if I know I don’t have to walk back home with everything, but can just load it into the car…

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