Archive for the ‘pregnancy’ Category


And I’m not going in to the RE’s today.  Why? you ask.  Because I want to have two extra days under my belt (ahem) when I do go under the wand, so that I have a better chance of seeing something encouraging.

Besides, I think Dr. Bigshot is in today and tomorrow, whereas I know my doc is in on Wednesday.  If I have to hear bad news, I want to hear it from someone human.  

It’s all about hedging your bets, see.

At this point, I have no idea what to attribute to the PIO & what to credit the pregnancy with, but my bosoms are swollen.  Make that SWOLLEN!

And tender.  Tender like I was wishing for, symptom-wise a few days ago.  Can I take that back now, please?  I was just foolin’…  Ouch.

A bit of intestinal distress last night had me convinced for about three minutes that I was in the middle of miscarrying, the cramps were so bad.  Then I calmed down enough to realize that a) there was no blood anywhere, and b) wrong kind of cramps.  All appears to be well, or at least that’s what I’m going with until I’m forced to believe otherwise.  Of course, that didn’t stop my unconscious from playing out different miscarriage scenes at least 5 different ways last night.  

It was a rough night in general.  One of our carbon monoxide alarm (we have several since we sleep in the basement with the heater, furnace, and other monoxide-producing gadgets) went off at 5am and we spent several befuddled minutes trying to figure out which one it was so we could see if it just needed new batteries.  Sure enough.  Still too tightly wound (and cold from the window we opened just.in.case) to get back to sleep for another hour, my brain entertained me by insisting that I was miscarrying right then & there.  

I was so dopey from interrupted sleep that I got up and checked, um, 4 or 5 times.

All is well.  This morning I’m sleepy, but fine.  

Looking forward to (and simultaneously dreading) Wednesday’s appointment.  Oh please, let everything be going ok in there!

Oh, and don’t forget I’m moving!  http://www.sprogblogger.com


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Back to semi-normal.

Except for The Hunger.  

Veins have eased their strangle-hold on the girls.  I’m still ravenously hungry, though, despite eating pancakes not half an hour ago.  This could be a very dangerous sign of things to come, folks.  

Why, if I’m only going to be allowed one early pregnancy symptom, does it have to be the weight-gain-producing symptom?  Why not shiny hair?  How about that ever-elusive “glow”?  Or even a bit of ‘no doubt about it’ nausea?  

Off to play with the website.

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Veins! I’ve got veins!

Veins & hunger.

Veins have totally taken over the girls.  No wonder they got tender yesterday.  Like being bra-ed by an octopus.  Or a squid, perhaps.

In other monster-news, the hunger is starting to take over my life.  I’m trying really hard not to gain weight til it’s, er, going to something other than me, since I gained over ten pounds this year with the IVFs.  So I’m trying not to give in to the urge to eat everything in sight just because – hey! I’m pregnant!  

The Hunger may, however, need a new name.  Something scarier like “ravening, out of control monster of doom that must be placated lest lives be lost”.  

Oh, and I finally did it.  I wasn’t going to.  I went to the green market, and it was green, and I bought a gardenia and a little spiky cactus/succulent thing with flowers and some maple candy and then I saw it across the busy street.

Babies R Us.

I’ve never been inside one, so help me.  It’s terrifying, it’s huge, and everyone in there is sprogged up, or with someone who is.  

It was incredibly seductive.  

I have a feeling I’d better buy a bunch of baby stuff to have on hand to assuage these feelings of rampant consumerism so that I won’t have to use the husband’s money, post-sprog, to buy them.  I feel a deep desire for a baby-wipe warmer coming to take over my rational mind.  Must.  Warm.  Baby-Wipes.  And the strollers – dear lord, the tricked-out strollers…


I bought nothing, but if all goes well, I’ll be back in several months with a credit card in hand to bedevil my poor long-suffering husband.  Whaddya mean no child of yours needs 35 different “adorable outfits”?!?

I may have found my new hobby…

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Happy to report…

that it looks like we still don’t have consensus for how a pregnancy week works.  Which is rather reassuring – at least I’m not the only one.

However, the majority seemed to think that zero-days begins a pregnancy week, putting me today, theoretically, at…. 5w3d!  So that’s what we’re going with (also because I like the sound of it more than 5w2d, to be honest.)

I know you were all holding your breath on that one.  Thank you for responding.  Damn math…

In other news, my upper-level girl-goods are finally starting to feel like the bosoms of a sprogged-up lady.  Definite soreness (and not just from me jabbing them unobtrusively when no one’s looking.)  I’m feeling a bit more hopeful that everything’s proceeding apace in there.  (Though what I’d really like is to toss my cookies, or at least come close!  Maybe I’ll go to Fairway today and lurk in the butcher’s section…)

It’s my first of nine days off, and I’m practically dancing in little circles, trying to contain my happiness.  Going to cultivate me some serious kitchen zen.  Maybe in the form of pie.  Going to go to the farmer’s market – maybe the one in Manhattan that has everything from flour to wine.  Going to get some writing done, and going to get my new website up & running (finally)!  Going to walk the dog a lot, (starting soon, because she keeps putting her head in my lap) and going to baby the boy as much as he’ll let me.  Going to not go to work.  Yipppeeee!

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Assuming (oh how everyone laughs!) that I really am in my 5th week of pregnancy.  And assuming that I actually did ovulate/get sprogged-up on March 11.  And assuming that I’m not a complete idiot, (though this question surely gives the lie to that…)

Am I at 5w3d or 5w2d?

In other words: is the first day of a new pregnancy week 5w0d or 5w1d?

I feel like such an idiot for even having to ask this, but my googling is not giving me a conclusive answer, and since this is a question that I can probably get a hard & fast answer to, despite my inability to get any answers about anything of real import going on internally right now, I really really really want to know…

Any takers?

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Ok, this is officially

driving me batshit.  

I hate uncertainty (which is why it’s a miracle that I ever survived this far in the IVF process.)  I hate ambiguity (ditto above comment regarding miraculous survival.)  Not knowing how far along I am, not knowing what’s happening in there (please god, there’s lots happening!) is making me nuts.  

I hate this open-ended waiting.

Shouldn’t I be feeling something by now?  Seriously, I’ve got no breast changes, no nausea, no super-sniffer-sense, no extra pee-trips in the night, no nothin’.

I’m scared to death.  I mean, by my only measure of this sort of thing, a miscarriage doesn’t necessarily announce itself with blood and pain right away.  Everything just sort of stops & you don’t even know about it for weeks.  And it’s not for weeks after that before the blood & pain starts up.  

I know there’s nothing I can do – or rather, that I’m doing everything I can do.  No caffeine, no raw stuff, no rare stuff, no sit-ups, no pistachios (at least until the current salmonella scare is over.)  I know I should just buck up and deal with the uncertainty and fear.  I know everyone goes through this to one extent or another.  I know I’m not special.  I know that according to many websites, pg symptoms often don’t even start until week 6 or 7 (and by my best estimates, I’m in the middle of adjusted week 5).  I know all these things, and yet I’m still completely out-of-my-mind terrified.

Not sure I’m going to make it til Wednesday.  Maybe I’ll go in on Monday and beg for an hCG test, thereby confirming my status as craziest IF-lady ever.  (“You want we should take unnecessary blood from you???”)


Basically, I need a new hobby to get me through the next 5 days.  Something not baby/pregnancy related.  I need to develop an overwhelming urge to collect china or samovars or something.  (actually, that said, maybe I’ll go to one of the big antique flea markets this weekend and look for, er, china.)  Oh god, this sucks.

A friend told me that, yeah, this is what “normal” people go through when they learn they’re pregnant, and that, in essence, I’ve been spoiled by being able to calculate a precise due date without any hemming & hawing in the past.  Which is totally true and I have much more sympathy now than ever before for this “i dunno when I’m due” state of being.  But I also think I’m a little more fragile than most newly pregnant ladies.  This year’s pregnancy related events have taken just about all of my giddy optimism from me, current miraculous sprogged-uppedness notwithstanding.  Seriously, what I want more than anything right now?  I want ugly, retching, ohmyfuckinggod morning sickness as a sign that this pregnancy is progressing, and I want it bad.  I want it NOW!  Come on, nausea —  I’m ready for you.  Do your worst & try to make me yech!  Come to Mama!

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Give or take a week or so.

Got disgusted yesterday with my due-date-less state and spent way too much time on my lunch break researching average hCG levels at 14dpo, and then extrapolating my numbers backwards for an estimated ovulation date of March 13.10 or 11. (Thanks, Kate!)


Which would make me 5w2d today.  And my due date would be right around December 2.

Which sounds better than the less-than-impressive, “Um, I dunno” answer to the ‘how far along are you?’ question.

My doctor left it up to me when I’d go in for my OB exam next week.  I’m actually inclined to leave it as long as possible in the hopes of seeing things more clearly on the ultrasound, but we also want to get out of town for Easter weekend.  So I think I’ll go in on Wednesday.  Which should be 6w2d.  Which means (according to the other bits of obsessive googling I did yesterday) that a fetal sac, yolk sac, fetal pole & possibly even a heartbeat might be visible.

I still don’t feel pregnant, though, and it’s driving me nuts.   I want symptoms, damnit.  I want something to obsess over, and analyze.  I want nausea and boobs that hurt when my husband looks at them from across the room!  I want fluctuating emotions!  I want pickle cravings that cannot be denied!  I want to vomit when I brush my teeth!

Instead, I’m hungry.  Physically, belly-rumblingly hungry.  And bloated.  And crampy.  Proto-sprog is doing an awfully good job of imitating premenstrual syndrome right now, and let me just say it out loud – I’m not naming proto-sprog Florence, so she might as well cut it out and give me some good symptoms instead of these crappy ambiguous ones.

PIO injections have been hurting, and I’m not sure why.  I wonder if I got a bad batch of needles or something?  Hoping that I don’t have to stay on the meds for the entire first trimester though I will, of course, happily do whatever the good doc says at this point.  I had the first of what I expect will be many ‘I’m losing the pregnancy/baby’ dreams last night.  Actually, I had the first five or so, because every time I’d wake up, I’d start fresh with a new variation.  Miscarriage, physically misplacing a baby, sick baby, etc.  It was a fun, fun night.

And damn, I wish I could get my hCG checked every other day like last time.  This whole ‘assume everything’s fine unless you have reason to think otherwise’ does not sit well with paranoid little me.  Since I’m crediting the infertility meditation tapes I’ve been using with the fact that my body was able to relax enough to accomplish this, maybe I should go look for pregnancy meditation tapes now.

At least it’s not April Fools’ day anymore.

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