not undecided

Non-Icky Thumps

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 15:56:00 +0000

I am finally convinced that these little thumps are definitely movement. It is weeeeeird, but very cool. He seems to like sugar (duh), spicy food, and wine (shut up), among other things (unless of course he hates them, but let's go with likes). Good tastes, little man! Thankfully I haven't suffered heartburn (yet? oh please no), so we'll keep that spicy food experiment going as long as I can stand it. Eventually this charming jabbing should morph into OMFG KID GET YOUR FEET OUTTA MY RIBS AND QUIT JUMPING ON MY BLADDER, but until then....awwwww.

So I pretty much screwed up and ruined the "surprise" for my dad. He'd said that he didn't want to know the sex...which I figured would be pretty impossible to keep up for the next five months, but he does have great powers of not paying attention, so...I tried. And then quickly failed. Oops. We were talking about the tests and stuff they do right after birth (Vitamin K, eye ointment, heel stick, etc.) and my mouth was way ahead of my brain and the word circumcision slipped out (without even going into how I rolled my eyes when saying it because I may or may not think it's barbaric and unnecessary and a really weird meaningless religious ritual to whack off parts of genitals and no I don't think the purported health benefits completely justify it but no I don't have a penis myself so maybe it's not fully my decision? Gah. ANYWAY....) Maybe his powers of forgetting will prevail, but I doubt it. I feel bad, but...seriously? How was that really going to work anyhow? Maybe we'll be really lucky again and can stay ignorant ourselves a second time around (I know, what a terribly greedy thought).

On the preparation/home improvement front, we finally said goodbye to our nasty old carpet. Wheeeeeee! There's still plenty of finishing to be done, but the carpet is gone and has been replaced with some nice enough laminate. I'm so over-the-moon happy to have an easy-to-clean, hard surface, even if it's not the natural, sustainable bamboo or cork of my dreams. Next up, hopefully soonish - registries and hospital tours. YIKES.

Here, have some tunage (yep, that's a word now, because I said so. Or do you think it should be tuneage?) for your Tuesday:

Sneak Peek

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 01:52:00 +0000

All is well. The tech who did the ultrasound on Thursday seemed very pleased that she got so many measurements. We saw heart chambers, kidneys, various brain parts, mouth opening and closing under what she guessed to be an intact palate (could see both nostrils on the nose, which I gather is a great indicator), hands and feet, fingers and toes, and I'm sure I'm forgetting plenty. Oh. Yes. PENIS!

Still sort of wrapping my mind around that. I had no expectations or preference or "feeling" about it beforehand. It's exciting. I think it's helping to be able to try and picture a baby boy. I'm getting there, but I still fail when I try to imagine myself using the words "my son." WEIRD. But delightfully so. I even scored a whole tub of gently used newborn-to-six-months baby boy clothes on Freecycle. I pounced on it especially hard when I saw that it was posted for pickup in one of the ritzier suburbs, thinking that it would probably be higher-end stuff, and I was not mistaken. Some of it is ridiculously cute. Some of it not so much, but I'm sure we'll channel Tim Gunn and make it work. Either way, there is a LOT of it, and it was all FREE. I'm nowhere near washing and folding and organizing a nursery (furniture won't be assembled until after we put down the flooring in a couple weeks and paint...sometime after that), but the fact that I even had the gall to respond to the post and say, YES, I WANT YOUR BABY STUFF, PRETTY PLEASE seems like a good step in the direction of believing this is yes, could very well end perfectly normally, with an actual take-home baby. We've even talked about names, beyond what Mike has always said he wants for a boy...I am insisting that some alternatives be seriously considered, even though I do love the name he wants - it's just a bit more popular than I'd like. I don't want to settle on anything yet, but we've definitely narrowed it down. For now. Even if we end up with one of our top two, I still want to spend time leafing through a Name Your Baby book alternately hmmm-ing and wrinkling our noses at the possibilities.

Anyhow, we still get to go back at 20 weeks for the full Level II anatomy scan. They scared me for a second on Thursday, wanting a "closer look" at my cervix. I totally laughed out loud when she asked if I'd ever had an internal ultrasound. If I weren't so freaked out thinking that they thought they were seeing shortening or funneling, I'd have squealed and clapped my hands YAY, MISTER WANDY! But I was definitely freaking out. Thankfully, the doctor said there was nothing of concern after all, just that they couldn't get as clear a view as they wanted abdominally. Phew.

Still checking for ~~the~~ his (!) heartbeat once a day. Or more. I won't lie. Very addicted to the Doppler. I feel the need to make sure. I am trying to pay attention for quickening (movement), but I don't think I'm feeling it yet. Sometimes if I can't sleep I concentrate so hard on paying attention that I almost convince myself I've felt a bit, but I think it's just wishful thinking so far. Hard to tell, really, but from what I've read it sounds like when I do feel it, I'll know it. I should wait and be sure rather than trying so hard, lest I be one of those smug but mistaken pregnant women cherishing traveling gas bubbles thinking they're kicks!

(16w4d)

Not the end of the world

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 21:49:00 +0000

So. Hi. Yes, it is apparently 2012. Well into it, I suppose. I sort of loathe those recap-and-look-forward-while-resolving type posts so...not gonna do it. Suffice it to say that my 2011 started off as teh suck thanks to the way that my 2010 ended, but slowly worked its way around to ending up pretty damned stellar. Thankfully. But I haven't forgotten how much the suck was the suck. Lo, did it ever suck, and mightily. I know so many people are still stuck in the suck (I swear I'm not trying to be Dr. Seuss with this), and I wish I could make the suck go fuck a duck. I really do.

But, onto some things that don't suck, I guess. Finally got an appointment with the peri/MFM. My OB says they should have called me a while ago. Clearly, nobody told them that. I still have no idea if my RE has spoken to any of the OBs in the practice or the peri about my medication plan, so I will not be surprised (though I will be irked) if/when I get there and they ask me, so why are you here? Le sigh. Whatever. The nurse (tech? receptionist?) who scheduled the appointment for me said they would probably do an ultrasound and some of the anatomy scan measurements, though they'll still have me come for the full Level II at 18-20 weeks. So that's nice. I ~~won't get my hopes up~~ totally have my hopes up that we'll find out the sex. And, of course, that we don't uncover any terrifying (or any, period) anatomical issues. We've talked about names for both, but it still feels completely hypothetical somehow. It doesn't feel like we're talking about naming a baby that's going to come out of ME. Sixteen weeks tomorrow, though, so I'm hoping to start feeling movement soon. I think that will help...though it could still be another month before I feel anything.

Also not sucking...I get a massage tonight. I hope it's not one of those deals with the giant hole in the table for a giant belly to go through, both because I'm so not there yet and I have read that's not the best way to do prenatal massage (should be side-lying propped with towels). Anyway, it was a Groupon, purchased before I was pregnant, and I have been waiting and waiting to be out of the first trimester (when I called they said they actually ask you to be at least 16 weeks and I said TOO BAD CLOSE ENOUGH ALREADY) and for the holidays craziness to be over. I really hope it's worth the wait. Ha. There's a motif for you.

Check

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 14:26:00 +0000

Clearly I was still needing some perspective yesterday, and what do you know...boom. Two things, one sad, one so happy. Either one would have had me crumbled a year ago. I keep saying it, but it's very helpful to have this link to the future that's starting to feel real, if still somewhat tenuous.

My Great-Uncle Stan died the night before last. I was not very close to him, but I can only imagine how my sweet Aunt Lulu is feeling. He had been fighting cancer, and while the information that filtered through to us was surely incomplete, it sounds like hopes were up and down that he might get the strength back to pursue more treatments. He turned 80 on our wedding day, so he was ... 86. Not sure if I'll be able to go to the services or not, but I imagine it will be much like my grandfather's funeral, with many stories of a full and generous life.

My cousin and her husband had their second little boy last night. It's so much better to be able to be happy for them. I hated feeling envious when people announced pregnancies and had babies. It's such an impossible feeling to describe...the happiness for them wasn't missing, it was still there, it was just shadowed by this...I don't know. Not jealousy - I would never want to take those experiences away from anyone. But some envy, also wanting the same things for us...and mostly fear that I would never ever get to make those announcements myself. I've gotten to trade some emails with her over the past couple of weeks, and she generously offered to send her maternity clothes back with her mom. Much appreciated, even though she's probably at least seven or eight inches taller than me. Some hemming will be in order, I'm sure. Plus I asked my sister to get them from my aunt, so then we'll have an excuse to get together. Which will be right when the snow finally starts to pour and make travel inadvisable, I'm sure. But maybe not. It's so weird to have had no significant snowfall yet at this time of year. Nice, but not right.

Speaking of announcements...seems like I ought to be putting something on Facebook. I want to, I just...haven't. I did send an email to the one person on my list who I know might be hurt by it...but I never got a reply (which I explicitly said I didn't expect), though it would be nice to know she's at least seen it. Should have sent it on Facebook rather than through regular email. Oops. Oh well. But anyway...I'm trying to work up the nerve to just post it. So many people already know, it seems silly to not be open about it there. I just need to find the right words and do it.

just write

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Fri, 30 Dec 2011 20:02:00 +0000

I keep staring at this blank screen trying to compose my thoughts. It's not working well, so I'm just going to ramble on for a bit, I guess. It's either that or fall back into the rut of not writing hardly at all, which is probably less helpful than trying to put into words all the things clanging the anxiety alarms in my head. Let's try chronological order, to start, I guess.

Holidays. Were very nice. I hated them an awful lot less this year than in the past several years. Still really nowhere near jolly or anything, but it's an appreciable difference from the active loathing I've had in the past. It's helping a lot to have something to look forward to, I think. I enjoyed Christmas Eve with my immediate family, and survived Christmas Day with Mike's extended. Nothing against them, honestly, they're sweet people, but it's exhausting for me. His mom had already told at least one person that we're expecting, but he clearly had not spread the word, so it was sort of our first in-person coming out. It's...nice that everyone is excited for us, it is...I am just already weary of the advice and feeling a bit judged somehow. I know, I know...any parent on earth will tell me to GET USED TO IT. And I'm sure I will, eventually. It does however seem particularly hard to swallow right now when I am still not feeling so sure that I'm going to get the chance to apply or eschew the advice. Still a bit terrified that something will go wrong and leave me with only ultrasound printouts and a baby spoon from the RE's office as the things of substance that prove we ever got this far. Yikes. Not a pretty thought 'tall. But that's what I'm doing here, trying to get these things out of my head and into the verbal realm, where hopefully they can seem a little less scary.

Shopping. Oh I hate it. Most of the time, anyway. But I did a lot of it with my mother in law and with my mom. Well worth it, as I'm very spoiled for it. Got a few actual maternity pieces, including a belly band. Haven't brought myself to even cut the tags off yet, let alone wash and wear any of it. Still doing the hair elastic through the button hole trick on my jeans. It's working. Not uncomfortable for the most part. I did break down and order some leggings, which may be waiting for me when I get home. I have not owned leggings since I was a child, but the trend that's now probably almost past is finally starting to grow on me...and I have to believe they'll be comfy. I do hereby promise to always remember that they are still not pants, though. Scary shit happens when people forget that very important point. But they'll work with the boots I treated myself to right after Thanksgiving, and will force me to find more long tunic-y/dress type things to go over them. I've slacked on the taking of belly photos. I have a few from the early weeks, but it's now probably been two or three weeks since I've picked up the camera. Not exactly sure why...I guess I'm not loving this part where I clearly look pudgy but certainly not pregnant enough for anyone to assume, especially with the frumpy sweaters I've been wearing. I haven't gained much actual weight according to the scale, but things are definitely spreading, both in the middle and up top. Just in case you wondered, it's no easier (but not impossible) to find a 34D than it is a 32C in the stores. Well, in Target anyway. I hesitate to order a bunch online - I'm not even halfway yet, so I wouldn't be terribly shocked if more adjustment is needed before we reach the finish line.

Nursery furniture. We haz it. A crib, convertible. A changing table and a dresser, too. Well, it's bought and paid for (super generous gift from the in-laws), but we have to pick it up this week. We're nowhere near ready to assemble it. The room right now is an oversized junk drawer. It needs cleaned out, painted (which color I may not decide until we know the sex), and carpet ripped out (along with the living room, hallway, and master bedroom), and laminate installed. It's insane to try and do all this inside the second half of a pregnancy, but it would be even harder to accomplish with an infant in the house, and I absolutely cannot stomach the thought of a baby crawling around on the current carpet. Too gross. Was there when we moved in, and since we knew we wanted to get rid of it (sooner than later then turned into eventually, of course), we never had it professionally cleaned like we should have. It's icky. We have a long way to go, and frankly not a lot of money to spend getting there. Going to take some creativity, determination, and maybe...magic or something.

OB appointment. Yesterday. Was good overall, I think. She is taking the low PAPP-A result very seriously, and will follow any recommendations from the peri. I didn't get an actual number, but the letter the peri sent my OB said <0.5 MoM. So yes, very low. My RE had said he would contact the OB's office to put together a plan for continuing/stopping any of the meds I'm still on, but he hasn't done so yet. So my OB wants to have him coordinate with the peri's office instead, since I will clearly be their patient as well. "Fetal surveillance" is what they seem to call this program. She's definitely got me pegged as high risk. Not warm and fuzzy phrases, but still better than intrauterine demise, which I could go the rest of my life without hearing again. Short of quitting my job and spending the next six months lying on my left side, I'm not sure what else I can do other than follow instructions and keep all these appointments. Went for basic prenatal bloodwork and a cystic fibrosis screen yesterday after the appointment. In two weeks I go for the AFP quad screen (which I'm sort of confused about since the first trimester screen gave low odds of chromosomal issues, but whatever, at this point I'm game for any needle other than those used for CVS and amnio), and another OB appointment, with a nurse practitioner appointment in between. I'm glad to have an OB who's overcautious rather than dismissive, certainly. It's the whole keeping stress levels low that's going to be problematic - sorry, but this shit is stressful. Going to make an appointment for a massage, going to keep up with yoga, and try to maintain some level of calm. I did forget to remind them about Rhogam, but I'm sure it'll come up again after they get the results from the prenatal panel.

Okay, there is more that could be purged, but I think this is plenty for now. (14w1d)

[Notes to self - personhood and natural birth rants]

Chances are...chances.

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Thu, 22 Dec 2011 21:33:00 +0000

Got a call from the peri with results from the first trimester screening. Mostly good. A tad worrisome, but I'm reserving freakthefuckout for necessity, which this is not. Yet, maybe. Anyway, first, the good:

1 in > 10,000 risk of Downs
1 in > 4,700 risk of Trisomy 13 or 18

But, of course, there has to be something. Low PAPP-A levels. I didn't ask for the actual number, since I can get that from my OB next week if I want it then, I'm sure. She said not to panic, so I will do my best, that there's still less than a 20% chance of complications...which include IUGR, low weight for gestational age, pre-eclampsia, and pre-term labor/delivery. Pretty much all my biggest fears after miscarriage and stillbirth. I realize it's still more likely than not that everything will be perfectly fine, but I have a hard time finding comfort in statistics anymore. Miscarriage is supposed to be 1 in 4 or 5 pregnancies, and we already beat the pants off those odds (not in a good way, I should clarify, just on the off chance you're brand spanking new around here). (I'm probably not framing that entirely correctly, mathematically. I'm the first to admit that I sort of hate stats and never grasped probabilities all that easily.) All I know for sure is that SOMEONE has to be the one in whatever unimaginable number they tell you. I'd like to think that it's my turn to not be that someone, but I know it doesn't work on a merit-based system; I don't necessarily get credit for time served. In fact, I'd lean more toward thinking that past pregnancy failures increase chances for complications even in successful pregnancies. I haven't googled all of this quite to death yet, and will still have to talk to my OB next Thursday of course, but right now I'm thinking that this points strongly toward staying on the heparin for the long haul. All of these complications are placenta-related. I of course don't know the detailed mechanisms, but I'd still somewhat ignorantly theorize that blood clots could easily contribute to adverse effects on the size and efficiency of the placenta.

I guess the silver lining is that it sounds like I'll be getting lots of ultrasounds. I'm sure my OB will have to confirm this, but the peri said detailed anatomy scan at 20 weeks, which I believe is pretty much standard for all pregnancies anymore, and then scans every four weeks until 32 weeks, and then every week until delivery. I question whether I heard that last part correctly, but I'm pretty sure that's what she said. Not sure how I feel about that yet. Obviously, proper monitoring far outweighs whatever desire I had to get as close as I could to 'normal' with this pregnancy, but I guess I'm a bit bummed that it sounds like I'll actually be a perinatal patient. I really kind of thought I would be back for the 20 week scan and that would be it. It's a silly thing to be sad over, and I'm sure I'll get over it quickly...I was just beginning to enjoy somewhat seriously considering working toward a natural delivery, maybe even one in a birth center (albeit a birth center AT a hospital; I'm not THAT brave slash foolish). Maybe I could still have these things...but maybe not. I've just been happy to be allowing myself to think that far ahead, that I've not been telling myself that I'd better not get greedy with thoughts of a live baby. It's actually been remarkably positive thinking for me. I don't want to backslide.

First trimester...check!

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 15:43:00 +0000

I've definitely gone much, much longer without posting (and that's still an extreme understatement), but I did not mean to leave that last dire, doom-and-gloom post up there for that long. Not claiming a 100% turnaround, but Tuesday's "graduation" appointment with the RE helped a lot (finally got u/s pics that look distinctly more like a baby than a blobby, though the NT scan on Monday should be even better), and going to a prenatal yoga class that night helped another metric fuckton, and best of all, there should be a doppler waiting on my front porch when I get home from work today. I really hope I can get it to function and find the heartbeat and it doesn't just freak me out if I can't. I forgot to actually ask for official clearance for the yoga at my appointment on Tuesday, but I never had official restrictions, either, so I just went for it (oooh, I know, I'm such a rebel...I use sarcasm but there is of course a sliver of my brain that fears I killed my baby with yoga. Sounds so rational, right?). Some places make you wait until the second trimester, and I pretty much did, but this instructor is really reasonable. She just said, you would know if you shouldn't be here, so in theory I could have (and maybe should have) started weeks ago. There were only three of us in the class that night, and both of the other women were much more pregnant than me, at 24 and 31 weeks, so I definitely did have that feeling-like-a-fake feeling, but it was also nice to do something "normal" for pregnancy, and I'm clearly in need of more exercise and relaxation. It felt really good to break a sweat and to feel that soreness yesterday and today. The Groupon for the five-class pass was a gift and I had been sooo looking forward to it. I was a little afraid that the prenatal version would be all relaxation and nothing that required much actual effort, but definitely not - I can't wait to go back again next week. I am still cranky and feeling stressed, but it helps to realize I do have tools to help deal and small things like these to look forward to to help get me from one week to the next without feeling like it's just one single giant hurdle to get to 40 weeks - breaking it up into bite-sized pieces should help, I hope. It's the only strategy I've got, so let's go with it.

(12w0d)

Something summary-like here

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Sat, 10 Dec 2011 17:40:00 +0000

I'm struggling today. Why can't I just believe it's all going to be okay? I want to believe this is in large part due to the hormonal shift that should be happening right now, but I'm feeling infuckingsane with worry. Not just with whether this pregnancy will end in a live baby, but also how the hell we're going to pay for all the things that need to come with a baby. I know we'll get by, but I'm just so sick of every little thing seeming like a huge thing, and right now I'm having a hell of a time putting the big picture over all the details. I don't regret doing this. It was either start trying when we did or continue down the path of slowly losing my mind over the question of whether it would ever happen or not remaining wholly unanswered. I don't need a life of luxury, or even many luxuries. I am just sick of worrying, but I don't know how to stop short of a magical money tree sprouting in the backyard. I should be enjoying this time, not suffering through it because I can't take care of every single detail this instant. Sometimes I am enjoying it...I do not mean to exaggerate. I just...can't get a grip on it right this second.

Maybe it's because a year ago today I was having a D&C. It's been wonderful beyond measure to have this pregnancy start in time for Thanksgiving and the time between then and now to not be completely filled with backward glances of how awful this interval was last year. Maybe I haven't given that enough thought or something...I don't know, it's been so very nice to be distracted by something future-oriented and happy. I just feel like I'm flattened by an emotional semi truck carrying a metric fuckton of tearful anxiety bricks today. Today's the birthday of two of my best friends on earth. Last year I didn't get to celebrate with them at all. The thought of going to the party tonight is freaking me out too. I feel like fake-drinking is going to be obvious, and I'm not ready to be "out" to every friend, acquaintance, and stranger alike in a face-to-multiple-faces situation. I still feel like a fraud. I need to go buy new clothes but I think today is not a good day to force myself into a maternity section. That would just be asking to take this meltdown public.

I've come so far, yet...it just doesn't feel like anything is accomplished by it right now.

Not my news....

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Fri, 09 Dec 2011 19:06:00 +0000

...but I hate to read this, all the same. Despite the fact that I would never leave my personal reproductive future "up to God," and regardless of what I may think of their choices, they are THEIR choices, and it doesn't matter what I think of them...I hate this for them. Some of the commentary that I've read (I know, never read the comments) is just despicable. I don't care how stupid you think a person is, this is just not something you wish on someone, ever. They may have (a lot) more kids than most of us would ever even contemplate, but even without having seen their TV show I've gathered that their kids are loved and cared for. They wanted this baby, and that's all that matters.

Every day that passes lets me be a sliver more positive that eleven weeks (and a day! hooray!) is so close to the end of the first trimester, and after that the risk of miscarriage drops again. The Duggars' loss is also a sickening reminder that some people never ever get to forget that while the risk does decrease, it doesn't entirely disappear. This happens. Yes, she's had a lot of kids. Yes, she's 45. Yes, her last child was premature due to preeclampsia. But it happens even in first, healthy pregnancies, too. I wish that wasn't true, and I even sort of wish I didn't know that so well, and as much as I'm letting myself get somewhat excited, I can't be certain. I'll never be a smug pregnant woman (I hope - feel free to pinch me if I get annoying). I can marvel at the cuteness of cloth diapers on Etsy for hours on end, but I don't know that I'll ever feel sure of getting to use them until the first time I get to clean up a blowout. Once you spend enough time asking, why me? you eventually come around to realizing, why not me? It's sadly a part of life, for some of us. And it sucks, for all of us.

No news is good news.

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Wed, 07 Dec 2011 18:19:00 +0000

Yesterday's scan was good. Measuring 11 weeks on the nose, so two days ahead, which the RE says they expect to see about now. Lots and lots of squirming, definite arms and legs and "I think that's an ear." Awesome to see. The pictures they print out are still pretty blobby-looking, but I am going to do the first trimester screening tests, which consist of blood tests and what I assume will be a fairly detailed ultrasound. Hoping to get some pictures from that that would be semi-recognizable as human to anyone that's not actually present for the scan. Still have to schedule that. Oh, and call the OB's office. Only one more appointment with the RE.

Cutting back on some meds. Cut metformin in half starting yesterday, and Friday will be the last day for that. Four days after that I stop the progesterone. Keeping on with prednisone and heparin for now, though the RE said he would rather see me continue heparin than prednisone. I don't really see it as necessarily an either/or kind of deal, but frankly it's more up to me and whoever I see for OB care than him, though I of course do appreciate the recommendation. So we'll see. I'm not convinced either way. I think the aspirin will stay for the long haul (until the last few weeks, I believe is the recommendation).

Feeling a little less queasy most days, and hoping that holds, but still sooo tired. Yet of course not sleeping all that well. Either can't fall asleep as early as the fatigue makes me think I should, can't stay asleep (waking up to pee has lost its charm, I will admit), or just weirdly non-specifically uncomfortable. I am the asshole who thinks restless leg syndrome is nonsense, yet...well, I swear I have it. It is supremely annoying. Not quite painful like a charlie horse, but somehow just short of that, like the feeling you (I, anyway) get right before the cramp really comes on. And only streeeetching that leg that you JUST got to a comfortable position will help. So strange. I'm very ready to be able to start some yoga classes.

Oh, yes. Just read a very cute fetal nickname on one of the support boards. SLIM. Someone Living Inside Mommy/Me. That gets a chuckle.

Double Digits

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Fri, 02 Dec 2011 15:21:00 +0000

Ten weeks, one day today. I'm still rather amazed that, first, this happened on our first try. That's ridiculous. I'm grateful as hell, but as much as I had my hopes up, I didn't really expect to be that lucky. I was still feeling like disappointment was the only pattern I could depend upon. Second, that less than a week after that first uncertain ultrasound, we saw the tiny embryo's heart beating. After being soooo close to qualifying as a blighted ovum, and having the spotting, I thought almost for sure that we'd be back to square one again soon. So happy to have been wrong about that, and that by now that embryo qualifies as an honest-to-something fetus. I can hardly believe I'm so close to completing an actual trimester. Just keep it up, Cletus. I am as close as I think I'll get to believing we'll make a baby of you yet.

Weekly LBC

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 00:25:00 +0000

That's Live Baby Check. And, check! Holy crap it really looked like a baby on the screen today. I'm trying to use that word a lot...in writing at least. I still find it hard to say out loud. Babybabybabybabybaby. I am having a hard enough time believing I'm really and truly actually pregnant (another word I struggle to use), and I know that at least 98% or so of the population naturally associates the word pregnant with the word baby, but damn I am blocked on that when I am myself the subject of sentences containing those words. Don't get me wrong, I am stupidly happy after these ultrasounds every week, but even right after seeing the baby (BABYBABYBABYBABY) on the screen I sort of feel like I'm overwhelmingly happy...for somebody else, or something. Hard to describe, I guess. I am choosing to believe that my brain will catch up in plenty of time...or at least in the nick of time.

Anyway, yes. I'm nine weeks, five days today, and Cletus the Peanut measures 9w6d - a whole day ahead. Which is awesome, so long as it stays that way. I don't know exactly how much variability in growth rate is normal, if any, but I would be unsettled to next time then measure right on or a day behind. Whatever, I guess I shouldn't worry about a hypothetical. For now, all is grand. Heart rate is 172 beats per minute, and we saw him/her moving around again. Even rolled over and faced us at one point. From that view we could clearly make out the head/face (not features or anything, of course, but still) and the forearms crossed over the chest. So surreal. Crown-to-rump length is 29.7 mm, so in theory somewhere between this and this. By that measure, we are officially in fetus territory. Wow.

I do want to touch on some cluster of cells/embryo/fetus/baby distinction/semantics stuff...but that needs to be another post, another day. Hoping today's dose of reassurance will lead to sleeping like a rock, maybe even for more than the measly six hours I've managed to get lately when I'm lucky. Also hoping that I will look back at that sentence come mid-summer and laugh at how spoiled I am right now.

I must be stronger now, or something.

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 17:01:00 +0000

Because it didn't kill me after all, though last night I thought I was surely dying. Thanks to the cursed flu shot, I'm guessing. The shot itself was nothing, of course. I kind of laughed afterward, as I was braced for something nice an burn-y, sting-y like heparin is, but I barely even felt the needle go in at all. Had the start of a headache a couple hours later, some nausea, which I thought nothing of, just carried a baggie of crackers around with me as we did some running around. By the time we got home, however, I was feeling decidedly yucky. Fleece pajamas and three blankets and I was still shivering something ridiculous. Figured I needed to eat something other than crackers, so I did, which seemed fine for a bit, though the headache was getting steadily worse. Mike didn't think I had a fever, or much of one anyway, but I was feeling so chilled and shivery I ended up making him run to the store for a thermometer and some Ty.lenol. I thought for sure I was roasting little Lightly Salted Cletus, but when he got back with the thermometer it read 98.5°F. I sort of didn't believe it, and by then it felt like the vise on my head was about to pop my eyes out of their sockets, so I went ahead and chased the Ben.adryl I'd taken to try and pass out with a Ty.lenol. Both seemed to help...for a bit. Was able to fall asleep on the couch for a little while. Still felt awful when I got up to go to bed, though I convinced myself that I should go ahead and take the met and prenatal. Probably should have skipped them for one night. Who knows, maybe I'd have been up at one puking my guts out either way, but ughhh. Thought I'd be good after that, but still woke up pukey and headache-y an hour later. Broke down and took another Ty.lenol and another Ben.adryl. And still had to get up at four to pee, of course. Amazingly, I feel almost okay today. Tired as hell, of course, and my head feels kinda sore, like a headache hangover, but like a million bucks in comparison to 12-15 hours ago.

I really hope that Frankie/Peanut/Cletus was unaffected by all that. Definitely ready for another checkup tomorrow. I don't really want anyone to suffer the flu, but I'd kind of like to hear at some point how awful it is this year so I can feel like all that was justified. I usually manage to dodge most side effects, but I'd never had a flu shot before, and I guess all bets are off with a pregnant system. I thought if anything it would take a day or two for side effects to show up, but that was pretty lickety-split. Gah. I just hope it's a one-shot deal and I don't get waves of it or something. Yuck. But yay for immunity (to last year's strains, at least).

ETA: Thanksgiving was great. I should not overlook this so easily, as I clearly have a lot to be thankful for and could not ask for a better contrast to last year than what I've got going right now. Well, I could ask for a nap, but I'll happily settle for a piece of leftover pie and a decent night's sleep tonight. Fingers crossed.

Still Shocked

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 15:29:00 +0000

All still looks well. LSP is measuring right on at 8w5d, so all caught up for now. Heartbeat's up to nearly 166 bpm. With a CRL of 21.05 mm, s/he's looking something like either this or this. I'm guessing somewhat more like the latter than the former, because - get this: we even saw it move a few times. (!!!!!moreeleventy!!11!!)

So Frankie/Peanut definitely still lives, and is crazy close to the "end of the embryonic period," meaning we are almost into Cletus the Fetus territory. I am of course thrilled about this, and at times can barely wipe the idiot grin off my face. But frankly, I don't feel like I'm really quite believing this - even though I'm actually seeing it weekly still. It seems so surreal that I am truly almost nine weeks pregnant. I am loving it, yet at the same time disturbed how clear it's becoming that a large part of my brain never believed this would happen - or, rather, believed this never would happen...if that distinction makes any sense. I still try to steel myself and imagine my initial reaction if the RE were to say that there's no heartbeat. But seconds before and after those awful thoughts I am reminding myself to ask him about the flu shot and continuing meds and OB care after I "graduate." I do spend most late mornings and the majority of the afternoons feeling pretty gross, but I've still only thrown up that one time. I'm tired, but rarely sleepy enough to actually nap or fall out for the night much earlier than usual. I have symptoms...it just seems like they're not quite intense enough to reassure me much beyond three or four days after a scan. So I'm still going back next week. Maybe after that one I'll venture to go two whole weeks. And then...I should be about done with the RE. I figure I will feel like an even bigger farce as an OB patient. But I am starting to believe I will actually be one - so that's something, something kind of huge.

Anyway, I did get some questions answered. I can (and should, I guess) get a flu shot. Staying on the heparin and prednisone past 12 weeks are "open for discussion," (PHEW), but I will stop the progesterone (fine) and the metformin (hmmm) at 12 weeks or so. Stopping the metformin doesn't bother me as much as the heparin would, so overall I'm feeling pretty good about his attitude toward the meds. I think it's fairly reasonable. The studies I read on the met were great for giving me hope at the time I was starting it and still imagining even getting and staying pregnant past six weeks. I'd have to go back and confirm, but I don't think there was a huge difference in live birth outcome between staying on it for the first trimester and continuing on for the majority of the pregnancy - and there is a tiny association with cleft lip/palate, I believe. So I think I can make my peace with stopping that one. Getting gestational diabetes would suck, but it's a very manageable complication so far as I know, and it's not as though stopping met guarantees I'll have it or anything. The prednisone is a minuscule dose, so it's hard to weigh how much reassurance I'm really getting from that, let alone how much actual physical benefit - could be significant, could be nothing but placebo. The heparin...I feel attached to, as silly as it is. I thought I would hate it because it would remind me of the last pregnancy ending so quickly, but as I watch my piles of used syringes and emptied vials grow, it looks like accomplishment, of a sort. But I'm still willing to be convinced that I could go off of it and be fine. I just hate feeling like it would be an experiment. I mean, it's all technically an experiment, but I'm invested enough here to not of course be willing to accept an adverse outcome as at all "worth it" in the name of learning something.

Back to one day at a time!

Eight Weeks

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Thu, 17 Nov 2011 16:48:00 +0000

That seems so surreal to me. It's not that much past six weeks, really, but...never been here, or anywhere that's felt even remotely like the same area code as here before, so ZOMG EIGHT WEEKS!!!!!eleventeen11!

I threw up last night...er, this morning? Whatever 3 am counts as. Yay for puking. Only slept for maybe ninety minutes, five to six thirtyish or so, though, so that's not ideal. I should be exhausted but the nausea keeps me from falling asleep; it's charmingly annoying. I think I ate more than half a sleeve of (unsalted) saltines in the hours between midnight and four am. Not sure what set it off - maybe the metformin/prenatal vitamin combo, but I'm sadly more suspicious of the garlic in the risotto we had for dinner. It was sooo delicious at the time, I was sad that I was full after two helpings, and it wasn't even that garlicky, really. But the residual smell in the kitchen even an hour or two later was not pleasant 'tall.

I think that counts as an aversion. Yay again for something so freakishly normal. Never thought it would be garlic, which I'm normally very partial to, but I am not complaining. However, if I don't manage to nap soon I'm going to feel like I shouldn't have called in sick to work...though something tells me I'd be pushing a meltdown to go in on ninety minutes of sleep. I think that calls for a mental health day (and hopefully a Frankie/LSP health day, too). I did leave my ginger snaps there though. That was a fail.

Goal: pass the fuck out already.

Still alive!

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Tue, 15 Nov 2011 23:53:00 +0000

Frankie is still kicking (well, not really kicking yet but you know). Frankie? I dunno. Peanut? That's about the size s/he is (out of the shell, in my RE's words). Maybe we'll just go with Lightly Salted. I kind of like that. There is an inexplicable (I will try, but be prepared for it to make zero sense) episode from my childhood in which my dad brought home some airline peanut packets (yep, dating myself here) from a business trip for us (what a treat!), and something about the way he said the phrase 'lightly salted peanuts' was absolutely pee-your-pants hilarious to my sister and me. Completely dissolved into fits of giggles. For at least an hour, probably.

Yeah. Nonsensical.

Anyway, the heart rate is up to 154 beats per minute and he/she/it is measuring 7w4d. That's only one day behind 7w5d by LMP, so I guess we could say s/he's made up a day or two since last week. Don't know if that's really the right way to think of that, but last time we measured 2 or 3 days behind based on LMP. Seems like good progress! CRL is 13.35 mm, so looking something like this creepy thing or this maybe slightly less creepy thing. If you really want a fright go back and check out Carnegie Stage 15. Yikes! Glad we're past that and moving onto stuff like gonads and nipples. Wheeee!

I am clearly still not quite grasping that this is, like, real. I get to keep going back weekly until 10 or 12 weeks. I think that will help, though part of me is going to continue to be terrified every time that the heartbeat will just cease to be there. I have no real reason to think that will happen, it's just that I know that it does happen. I am very encouraged; this is definitely the farthest (furthest? I hate that one) we've ever gotten - maybe not date-wise, but definitely signs-point-to-good-wise. They said today that I'll discontinue heparin and progesterone after the first trimester. Progesterone, fine, yes. At that point the placenta should be doing its job and I am fully aware that supplementing won't prevent miscarriage anyway. The heparin I think I may be nervous about stopping. I never actually tested positive for APS, and was never tested for MTHFR, homocysteine levels being normal, so I have no concrete reason to think I should continue it, but...I can't help but fear a rogue clot in the placenta or the umbilical cord or...whatever else worst case scenario I haven't even come across yet. On the other hand, I won't miss the bruising. Maybe by 15 weeks or so my stomach won't look like it lost a bar fight anymore. See? I am thinking I will get that far, it's just...weird to have these thoughts. I never wanted to give up and not try at all, but it seems like my mind was trying to prepare more than I consciously realized for the possibility that it would never even get this far. It's a strange yet perfectly logical dichotomy of sorts. Trying to acknowledge it and leave it be, not poke at it too much. Also, they'll back me off the metformin at some point. I'm on the fence about that one, too. Studies have gone both ways on whether it may actually help prevent miscarriage or not. It has, however, been shown to reduce the incidence of gestational diabetes. A restricted diet does not sound like any fun at all, but...again, I never showed any definite signs of insulin resistance, and cart way the hell ahead of the horse on that anyway.

One. day. at. a. time.

Yay....I wanted this.

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Mon, 14 Nov 2011 22:43:00 +0000

Ohhhhhhhh, but I am queasy. No puking (yet?), but it is definitely nausea. Fun.

I really hope this is a good thing and that it means we'll see good things again tomorrow.

Need to find something sour...quickly.

Urp.

Tee Em Eye

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Fri, 11 Nov 2011 15:42:00 +0000

I think Spot is out as a candidate for a nickname. I'm becoming way too hateful of the gerund form of the word, as it...continues. In a very unnerving similarity of timing to the last time around, there was....redness, several hours after the great scan on Tuesday night. Not a lot, but more than I'd like to see, of course. I'd stopped at my parents' house, shared the good news and showed off the pictures from the scan. We dropped off prescriptions and went out to eat to celebrate. Picked up the scripts and headed home, where I continued to spread the good news electronically as far as it's spreading at this point. Like grim clockwork, as I get ready to go to bed I see it. I tried not to freak out and did pretty well, but...for fuck's sake, you know? Realistically, I'm on blood thinners, and perhaps mister wandy exacerbated some irritation from the progesterone supplementation, so I'm willing to believe it's "normal" and not indicative of doom. It slowed way down overnight Tuesday and is back to the much less scary brownishness, but it would be even less scary if it would just STOP. Does it really seem like too much to ask? Don't answer that.

I did a lot of staring at the pictures from the scan that night, but I haven't opened that folder since. I'm keeping both panic and (to a lesser extent) attachment at bay as much as I can for now. I think I'll wait until Tuesday again to settle on a nickname. Still being optimistic that I'll need one, but the reality of seeing spots is unsettling at best. I've gotten some fun suggestions outside of the comments here (Dino, Lizzy, for reptilian attributes), and I'm still hoping we'll get to (and well beyond) the Cletus the Fetus stage, but right now I'm leaning toward Frankie. It's my little monster and I really want to see that heartbeat again on Tuesday and be able to say, IT'S ALIIIIIVE! and also,

Houston, we have a - - -

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Wed, 09 Nov 2011 01:58:00 +0000

HEARTBEAT.

So...yes. Unbelievable, but I'm pretty thrilled. The gestational sac grew 10 mm in five days, there's a definite yolk sac (don't see a measurement on that from the printout they gave me), the fetal pole is either 5.17 mm or 6.18 mm (depending on the angle I guess?), so measuring either 6w2d or 6w3d, and I'm 6w5d by LMP. That would worry me a bit but with a heartbeat of 120 bpm (!!!) I am not going to stress about two or three days - so long as I can see that heartbeat again next week! Un. real. I know I won't really relax for quite some time, if at all, but this is definitely the farthest we've ever gotten with things looking this good. Even just partial relief feels like someone removed the weight of the world from my shoulders.

This thing needs a nickname. I realize that the worst could still happen at any moment, but this is the most reassurance I've ever had, so I'm going to enjoy it as much as I can muster. It won't hurt any less if I worry any more if the worst does happen. Not that I won't worry....just trying to encourage myself not to do so excessively.

What to call it? Creepy Little Embryo o' Mine just doesn't sound very affectionate. Accurate, though. I mean, look: 5 - 7 mm embryo.

Totally creepy. But in the cutest way.

Blerg

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Mon, 07 Nov 2011 14:29:00 +0000

No scan today. RE's not in, so I'm scheduled for 1:45 tomorrow. I'm so annoyed. They keep telling me to take ibuprofen to "calm the uterus." I asked, they seem aware of the studies (here's the most recent that I know of) pretty much saying that's not the best idea. I get that it will inhibit the prostaglandins, which in theory should prevent cramping, so sure, it may calm the uterus, but it does not calm my mind.

Spotting

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Sat, 05 Nov 2011 00:18:00 +0000

Well, that's one way to get a scan moved up. Assume it'll be sometime Monday unless things get much worse over the weekend and I end up in the ER. Never happened before, so let's at least go with that part of the pattern if this is going south.

Fuck.

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Fri, 04 Nov 2011 21:28:00 +0000

Was really hoping, and almost sure, that by now I'd have to post these with a disclaimer that I sort of felt like I shouldn't be relating to them so well, being pregnant and all. But replace "IUI" with "tests, tests, prescriptions, tests, prescriptions, ultrasounds, bloodwork, we'll hit the deductible eventually, oh fuck it nothing's covered anyway" and it still works.

There must be a way

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Fri, 04 Nov 2011 15:05:00 +0000

...to get through these days. I know, distraction. But with what? I'm at a loss. Clearly work, while I'm at work, at least. But everything is making me so fucking angry. Angrier, I should say. I'm furious. Doesn't count as crying at work if you only tear up and the tears don't actually fall, right?

....

Oh. Never mind.

6w0d u/s

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Thu, 03 Nov 2011 15:21:00 +0000

13 mm gestational sac. Spot that looks "suspicious" of a yolk sac. Too small to see a fetal pole or a heartbeat. Could be normal, yes, in theory. My RE was clearly trying very hard to be encouraging and optimistic, saying that it looks "on track." But (goddamn doctor google) it seems that 13 mm is the very top end of the range in which you can see the gestational sac and not yet a yolk sac and it still be a viable pregnancy. So I'm one measly millimeter and a semantic debate over the word suspicious away from a blighted ovum. Not too comforting. Could I ever just be in the safe range? Ever? I've seen SO MANY reports from women who see strong heartbeats at six weeks. Last time it measured 5w6d (really wish I knew what the gestational sac measured in mm) and had a slow heartbeat. Feels doomed. Now I feel like every twinge that I had been taking as reassuring is really just a cramp foretelling the end, and that it's only the progesterone supplementation that's holding off bleeding. I'd been doing REALLY well about not obsessing over checking for spotting so far, but methinks the next eight days are going to be different. I truly just about had myself convinced that it was only terrible timing that killed off all the others. That I just needed the Clo.mid to ovulate at the right time to get the progesterone production to a sufficient level. Signs don't seem to point to that yet. But maybe just maybe I can still squeak by and be one of the ones who's tortured week by week yet gets to week eight or nine before everything somehow suddenly looks perfect after all. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe.

Calm or not, carry on.

noreply@blogger.com (not undecided) — Mon, 31 Oct 2011 00:34:00 +0000

I really hope the next three days go by quickly. I am freaking out a little. I keep getting way ahead of myself, worrying about money and space and maternity leave and then I'm just laughing at myself because what could possibly be the point of this conjecture? Part of me thinks there is every reason to believe everything will be just fine, and part of me thinks there's no chance in hell of seeing a heartbeat on Thursday, and I cannot tell which part is larger or louder or winning this pointless argument. For periods of time I'm fine, relatively calm and able to either distract myself or even actually enjoy the idea that maybe, just maybe, this could work out and be okay. But I can't seem to sustain it. The negativity and doubt creep in and take my breath away. I can generally get back to an even keel but dammit, it is unnerving. I wish I could go to bed tonight and wake up Thursday morning.

I forced myself to go shopping yesterday. All I could bring myself to buy was a bunch of oversized sweaters that in theory will work for a while whether Thursday goes well or not. I couldn't even bring myself to try on any jeans, let alone look too hard at anything in the maternity section. I walked through the baby section trying so hard to find something that I could justify, something unisex and not specific, a generic onesie, some socks (teeny tiny socks are my favorite), something, anything. I couldn't do it. I AM hopeful, but I feel like...a fake, somehow. Like I don't have the right to even use the word maternity, let alone use it in referring to anything to do with myself.

What will be, will be. I just really hate the not having a clue part.