A Poacher Named Hope

I have decided to leave my head partially in the sand for now. I was truly just having a bad day I think. I've worked so hard to remain positive and stress free, and that just wasn't happening the other day - thus the ostrich post.

Having said that, I got up on Wednesday morning and was going about my morning routine of showering when I was overcome with a coughing fit that left me hanging over the toilet wretching. I have been fairly congested throughout this pregnancy thus far ... something I do remember from my first pregnancy. Without wandering too far into the zone of too much information, the congestion builds up, eventually makes me throw up, and is for me, one of the sure pregnancy symptoms I get.

If anyone had been peeping in our windows that morning, they would have thought us totally wonked. HB is sending me off to work with a kiss and a cheery "hope you throw up all day hon", and I'm smiling weakly back saying "thanks...me too". Yep. Wonked.

So despite all the good advice (seriously...thank you all so much for the suggestions and comments...every one of them), I decided against calling my doctor. I read your comments, googled, read some real books ... all of which assured me that what I was feeling was normal for the 9 to 10 week mark.

We leave tomorrow morning for five days in Boston. As weird as this sounds, I thought if something is wrong, there's nothing that I can do about it. So I might as well wait until I get back from Boston and deal with it at my doctor's appointment on Thursday.

But in my heart, I am beginning to believe that perhaps nothing is wrong. Just maybe. I'm starting to allow that long lost bag named Hope to slip in there .... she's not a permanent resident yet, but she is doing some poaching.

The Ostrich Has A Request

I'm terrified. I've got that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, and it's not morning sickness. I'm googling and reading ... trying to find reassurance. I just know something is wrong with this pregnancy.

I don't feel pregnant. The only "symptoms" that I really have are tiredness and what feels like a thickened stomach area that's uncomfortable to hold in. Even with the tiredness, I can push through that if I have to and keep going. I have no morning sickness whatsoever. I'm not starving, even if I miss a meal like I had to with supper last night. My breasts are sore when I wake up in the middle of the night, but that's about it. Maybe a little tender throughout the day if I brush against something - but not outlandlishly so. And although I'm peeing frequently, even that seems to have subsided, despite the fact that I'm drinking a ton of water daily.

I don't see my family doctor until next Thursday, and the high risk clinic isn't seeing me until October 19th. There's a part of me that wants to call my doctor today and ask for something - anything - an ultrasound, more blood work, a doppler listen. And then there's a bigger part of me that's winning out that says ignore it. Relax. You really don't want to know if anything is wrong, now do you?

I can't get the sight of the empty sac from our first ultrasound (at 7 weeks) out of my head. I keep having this foreboding sense that it's still empty.

So come on....tell me all your stories about people you know who had beautiful, wonderfully healthy babies with nary a pregnancy symptom. Help me keep my head in the sand please.

Hope deserved?

It doesn't seem fair that some of us have to struggle so very much to bring a child into this world. In my last post, I was being buoyed up by Julia's ever present wit. Now I'm weeping with her and her family as they try to move through this latest development.

I can remember reading the blogs of other infertile sisters who managed to achieve pregnancy. None ever really breathed easily, and most struggled with alternating feelings of guilt, fear and anxiety. I can remember thinking that if it were me, I would just be so eternally grateful for the pregnancy that I wouldn't complain or worry.

I want to hunt down each one of the bloggers I ever thought that about it and apologize deeply now. I so fully get it.

If I allow myself to feel truly happy and relaxed about this pregnancy, I'm convinced I'm cursing it and myself. The joy of the most blessed event of my life has been stolen from me. I can't figure out how to retrieve it and that sucks. I remember when Julia posted a semi-hopeful post and I cheered! Yay and hurrah for hope!

We do deserve to feel joy and hope. We do have the right to be excited about these babies we have loved into existance after so many years of trying. We should be able to shout from rooftops. Yet, as Mony so eloquently wrote, we strap on our orange belts, but still kind of keep them hidden under our folded arms, afraid that if we breathe too loudly, our orange belt will be repossessed.

Sad.

On being a radiant goddess

I was away for the weekend, attending a conference which was exactly what I needed, and where I needed to be. It was a Cursillo conference - filled with people of great faith. Right now I need to be reminded that I, too, am a person of faith. This weekend did exactly that for me, and I'm feeling incredibly peaceful, healthy, happy and yes, hopeful.

I was just reading Julia's most recent blog entry in which she says, "Which, um, ok, but my third husband is not only going to be a pastry chef he is going to be one of these internet spouses I keep reading about who strongly believe that pregnancy is a mystical, awe-inspiring time of great pith and moment and who cannot do enough to nurture and support the radiant goddess they are blessed enough to call Partner, Lifemate, Friend during this magical arduous process".

This cracked me up but also made me reflect on just how grateful I am that HB is one of those internet spouses of which she speaks!

I came home from the conference to find that he had spent his entire weekend painting. Now you have to understand - HB and I are probably the most sloth like home owners in the world. We keep a clean house...a tidy house....but we don't do that paint/renovate/repair thing. At all. Seriously. We have duct taped up holes in the walls. And been fine with that.

But I had happened to mention that I'd like to get the small bathroom on the main floor painted. My wish apparently is his command these days. Not only was the wallpaper border stripped, the bathroom painted totally, and the trim painted a beautiful contrasting colour - he also bought an awesome new light fixture for above the mirror, installed a new sink to replace the old one that had icky holes in the porcelain, painted the front hall and the french doors, and replaced the rubber on the front steps.

Now he's picking out colours for the living room, and I'm dreaming of hardwood floors.

He has decided that I am not to lift my arms above my head, which pretty much rules out putting away or getting any dishes in our house since I'm a short little runt whose kitchen has high cupboards. I am not to vacuum, nor am I to carry anything of weight over 10 lbs. I am not to bend to retrieve laundry from the washer or dryer. The list goes on.

The clinic called on Friday. Our nuchal fold and early ultrasound will not take place until October 19th. That feels really far away. It's hard to believe that I'm really only 8 weeks pregnant. It feels like we have been trying to get our heads around this forever now, when in fact it's only been 4 weeks.

I am beginning to believe this will happen. Why else would HB be treating me like the "radiant goddess" of which Julia speaks?

I'm out of my mind

So...not much is new. I've had a very uneventful week. No bleeding. Minimal spotting. Oh my...the joys of discussing thy inner workings with the internet!

I'm exhausted. Seriously. I'm taking two hour naps when I come home from work. I'm working really hard to eat balanced meals and snacks throughout the day. HB won't let me stretch to put a dish away, nor will he let me pick anything up. If you knew me, you'd know that I don't do the helpless maiden thing well. Either I will get extremely used to this and turn into a huge sow who refuses to do anything but chew, or I will get extremely pissed at this and lift something huge out of revenge.

I did something yesterday that was extremely brave or extremely stupid. (Oh...and apparently pregnancy has reduced my vocabulary...removing all adjectives but the word extremely). Anyhow. I bought maternity clothes.

Stupid? Brave? Hopeful? Not sure. I was at the mall, and found myself brave enough to wander into the store. They had such nice stuff. And this sales chick? I hope she's on commission because she was awesome. I had no intention of even trying anything on, let alone buying anything. Although I had been thinking that it would be nice to get a few things at a time and just put them away.....just in case. Somehow we got into a conversation and I found myself telling her that we were being cautious because of our history. Very tactfully she said they had a full return and refund policy.

I walked out of there with 8 tops and a gift card for $50 off my next purchase.

What the hell am I doing?

And through it all, I'm trying to be happy. But inside, if I'm really really starkly honest, I have this recurring thought that there is really no baby in there. That I'm going to go for the next ultrasound and they will say "ahhhh sac's empty. So sorry." I feel like I have two little creatures on my shoulders .... the evil one on my left shoulder whispering that I'm losing my mind and don't deserve this .... and the beautiful, sweet one on my right shoulder, softly stroking my cheek and telling me that my time has finally come. I just don't know which one will win out.

A scare

How does that John Prine song go?
"woke up this morning....put on my slippers....went to the kitchen and bled...."

No wait, that's the infertile miscarrier song. I get them mixed up all the time.

Anyhow, I'm fine now but we had quite a scare today. I started to bleed bright red at about 11:50 a.m. It held out long enough to get me through this job interview I had this morning, thankfully, but immediately afterward out it came. Went right through my jeans.

I drove myself to emergency, calling my doctor's office on the way. She was out of the office but being as awesome as she is, got the message and called me back on my cell within five minutes. She told me that my hcg levels from yesterday were wonderful, but to reassure myself I should continue on to emergency where she would request additional quantitative levels, an ultrasound and an internal.

I was home by supper time. For all the complaining there is about the emergency clinic around here, they have sure been great to me.

It was ironic, however, that as I sat waiting to be seen by triage, a very pregnant young woman came up, butted in front of me to see how much longer she was going to have to wait to be seen for the dizzy spell she was having. She stood there in front of me, rubbing her belly the entire time. I was biting my tongue and praying for HB to walk in before I lost it.

Anyhow...results.
HCG test 1 - 2800 (August 30)
HCG test 2 - 17,000 (Sept 7 - 8 days)
HCG test 3 - 19,000 (Sept 8 - 1 day)
Internal - cervix closed; presence of a clot of blood but not coming from inside the cervix.
Ultrasound - gestational sac present; no fetal pole but the radiologist and my doctor both warned us before the ultrasound that this is normal for this stage.

The only concern the radiologist voiced was that the sac is not centered in the uterus. It is up higher than he would have liked to have seen it.

The bleeding had subsided by about 3 p.m. and I was home by 5:30, with orders from the doctor to "take it easy" for a while.

We told Frodo and Mini Me last night. They are delighted and have stated their preference for a sister. I love that they refer to the baby as their 'sister'.

The down side of today? HB had to tell Knothead because he had to get her to take the kids for a few hours to come meet me at emergency. She just called her and in her way of being able to make anything be about herself said "How are you feeling? Good. Congratulations by the way. Don't worry about it. I bled in my sixth week. I actually I bled continuously from week 6 to 12."

This is exactly what she said to me when we lost Brodie. Oh no wait...how she actually said it at that time was "Don't think I'm not sorry about the baby, because I am. I bled during my pregnancy too so I know what you're going through".

Then she gave me a pot of mums. That died.

I had forgotten about that until tonight.

Nervously public

This morning I went to see Dr. H for my first prenatal visit.

Prenatal. Me! (snort!!!!)

It went well. I had been keeping a list of things I wanted to discuss with her, some of which are courtesy of comments here - like Laura's observation about progesterone - and others which were just related to things that had been going on with me, like the brown spotting. It's not even fair to call it spotting. It was more like brown splat on the toilet paper. One splat and it was done.

Anyhow, as I was getting ready this morning I could hear HB up here cackling like a mad scientist. I asked him what he was going through, and he told me that I'd have to experience it to appreciate it. I get to the doctor's office, pull out my carefully printed and bulleted list to go over it before seeing her, and at the bottom of the list, in HB's print, complete with a bullet and a happy face, I read:

"Is excessive farting normal?"

I was on the floor! What a guy I married. I simply slid the note over to Dr. H (who loves HB by the way), and after she stopped crying, she told me she'd be leaving him a voice mail message to explain why he'd better get used to it.

After an opening like that for your first prenatal visit, where do you go from there?

She is delighted with all my blood work, my blood pressure, the fact that I've been smoke and booze free for a few years now, and agrees with HB that no stress is the order of the day. Although she is my family doctor, she is also an ObGyn. She has referred me to the high risk clinic but has also said that I will be a "shared care" patient with her. What that means basically is twice the attention, which also means twice the appointments, but hey...that's cool.

I went for a truckload more bloodwork and urine analysis this morning as well, and then over to the maternity hospital to pick up a nutrition guide she wanted me to have.

Then I went to work. Where the word is definitely out. And I spent the day receiving congratulations from everyone.

We plan to tell Frodo and Mini-Me this weekend.

Oh God .... I hope we didn't make a mistake in allowing this to become so public. But...to quote many other bloggers....NBHHY and there are no signs that SBIGTH (something bad is going to happen). It's just that I'm still so freaking early in this pregnancy. It could be over tomorrow. Everything that I'm reading (yes, I broke down and allowed HB to buy me a copy of what to expect when you're expecting) says that the minute you know you are pregnant, start acting like you are pregnant. Rest when you need to ... be happy and stress free ... eat healthily ... don't lift ... etc. All the things that HB is encouraging me to do. Yet, it's so early. And I don't 'feel' pregnant. And it could all disappear tomorrow.

Chant with me, will you?

Sinking in

It's all good. The spotting has stopped. In fact, it was very minor spotting, in retrospect. One little splurt first thing in the morning on Sunday and Monday, and another little one in the evening on Sunday. I've done enough reading and googling now to know that it's all normal.

I have to be careful what I wish for - yesterday I said to HB that I'd like to get a good dose of morning sickness to know I was pregnant. Well, today has been one of those queezy all day days.

We have decided that we're telling people freely. I know what it is that I have to do to take care of myself physically, but we all know that if it's not going to continue, there's nothing you can about it. So in the meantime, we want people to be happy for and with us.

Yep. It's starting to sink in.

A desperate beg - Updated

I'm terrified.

I woke up this morning to some very mild gas like cramps, and when I wiped, I found a brown discharge on the t-paper. The spotting has stopped although the gas like cramps continue. I can't help but flash back to my first bleed with Brodie. This one is NOT bright red, which is good I know (I've researched at Google U this morning already), but it still terrifies me. My breasts are also not sore at all. And I mean at all. Although I've been a little squeemish at times throughout the days, I'm not experiencing any naseau or sickness. Just tiredness, and even that wasn't bad last night.

The other thing that is terrifying me is that HB is not at all interested in considering the possibility that this pregnancy might not stick around. When we were had that last ultrasound that told us Brodie was gone, I can remember the nurse technician and I both looking at the screen and knowing right away. HB, however, was refusing out loud to believe what he was seeing. He kept saying "it's all alright....the baby is fine" over and over.

He kept saying that this morning too when I told him about the spotting. I'm so torn. I've googled and read, and found evidence on both sides. I don't see my doctor until Thursday. I'm trying to follow HB's advice and be as stress free as possible....be positive....enjoy being pregnant.

And yet I have this feeling of doom this morning. I can't even try to think beyond this day. And of course I'm thinking about how frigging many people we told this week in our stupid excitement.

Please please please let me, just this once, be part of that 80% for whom spotting at this stage means absolutely nothing. Please!

_______________________
Updated:
I have had no more spotting at all since the one episode this morning. No more cramping, and happily, my breasts are tender! Thanks everyone .... I'm going to try hard NOT to be an overreacting hormonal bag very often!