Saturday night I came full circle, I was right back being the infertile girl crying in the bathroom of a restaurant, except I was the pregnant infertile…if that makes any sense.
The night started out innocently enough, we were at an engagement party right on the water in G.eorgetown. I’m happily drinking my seltzer and cranberry juice talking to some people I hadn’t seen in forever when another couple shows up. She sees my belly, does the whole ‘how far along are you’ thing and says she’s pregnant too, but she barely has a heartbeat yet and can’t wait for her dr’s appointment in 2 weeks. The girl is 6 weeks 3 days pregnant. Now let’s start with the fact that this is someone I already am not a huge fan of. She then goes on and on to talk about her pregnancy (all 2 weeks she’s known about it), but then mentions that she had been trying for a year and a half and it gets not too fun. For a second I think I’ve found a fellow stirrup queen and I agree with her. She then goes on to talk about all the stress people put on themselves when they don’t get pregnant right away and how that just makes it worse. That all of this infertility business is just women wanting immediate gratification (ha….you can tell she never waited for test results, nothing immediate about all that) and everyone just needs to relax. Now I know I should have used this as an opportunity to do a little bit of education, but I just couldn’t. Instead I (rather bitchily) mumbled under my breath, “your baby could be dead already and you don’t even know it” (**ok, not proud of that comment at all, I don’t think anyone heard me. I really don’t wish a miscarriage on anyone) and excused myself. Seconds later I found myself in the bathroom just sobbing, just like I used to when I’d show up at a party and discover someone was pregnant. I guess she brought up all those old emotions, I’ve had people say those same things to me before and they always generate the same reaction: anger and tears. I guess now is no different. Part of me just wishes I could have been that naive.
Other than that little episode, I had a great weekend. No pics taken, I was running really late getting ready but with my bro’s wedding this weekend, I’m sure there will be plenty!
Sunday I bit the bullet and started a registry. Talk about overwhelming. Halfway through the store I didn’t think I was going to make it so we stopped and just did what we had to do…the crib. They say allow 8-12 weeks for delivery but I’ve heard it taking as long as 16, and we’ve only got 17 to go (again, hoping I’m not tempting fate with all this). But we actually made our decision fairly easily. If I can find some pics on line I’ll post them. I just want to check around online for the best price and should have it ordered by Wednesday. Sucks that we need to go back, since the store was a complete zoo, but there was no way I could have finished. We were both so overwhelmed by everything. And I thought I was well prepared having read the books, flagged the pages of things I was interested in, etc.
Now back to work, luckily a short week since I’ll be leaving early on Thursday and am taking Friday off for the wedding. I’m going to be such an emotional basketcase. I’m just so glad my brother picked someone I like, she’s already my sister, just now we’re making it official (ha, makes it sound like I’m marrying her 😉
If you’ve got a sec, go send some love to Leah. She’s probably having little Spidey as we speak!
No one else in my life, even those who know that it took us 2.5 years to get here, seems to understand that I’m still scared and still don’t believe this is really true. I’m scared to buy more maternity clothes and am fine alternating between the 2 pairs of pants I have. And I can’t even begin to think about nursery bedding, cribs, registering, or all that other stuff. And names! Suddenly people expect us to have a name ready. It’s all so crazy to me. It all seems so far away. I can’t help but think that it’s all wishful thinking on my part. I look at some other people’s blogs and they all seem to together, already doing all those things. I will admit that I got temporarily giddy with excitement after the ultrasound and keep looking at the one little outfit my cousin got me….but I’ve lost the giddiness. And then of course I feel bad that this little girl isn’t getting the best of me and will someone stumble across these postings years from now and think that I wasn’t thrilled beyond words or that I didn’t want her enough.
Years ago I had an PTSD related anxiety disorder that I did work through, my therapist would always make me talk about my ‘death thoughts’. It took years before I could rationalize away each thought as it popped into my head. Well now I don’t have thoughts about me dying, but of this baby. And I can’t rationalize them. I know that part of it is because I never really dealt with the chemical pregnancy (or whatever it was) in November. But all I keep thinking is if that pregnancy could be taken after a week….why can’t this after 20? There’s really no rhyme or reason to all this…and I like both rhyme and reason.
I keep telling myself that I should be out of this funk, that I’m doing a disservice to every women still in the throws of treatments by not reveling in the fact that I managed to get lucky. But I can’t shake it….
uggg…I hate what IF has done to me….
We both graduated!! I’ve had “Donna Martin graduates, Donna Martin graduates” in my head all day long (except in my head, it was my name).
Ultrasound today went well. Measured 7w5d, so only 1 day off. Heart rate was 159. Got instructions on when to stop the Pr.ometrium. My doctor made all sorts of jokes with Mr H about me being the designated driver for the Superbowl. We also got forms to send in after DELIVERY! Yes, you read that correctly….delivery. And instructions to send baby pictures. I felt like I was living in an alternate universe for a while there. Kinda still feel that way.
The whole thing was very bittersweet. As glad (ecstatic) as I am that things are going well, I don’t want to leave. I don’t know what’s out there. I know I’ve said it before, but I know how to do the infertile thing…not sure how to do this other thing. Plus, I have never had a more attentive doctor in my life. The man emails me back on a Friday night…I certainly don’t do that for my clients. I’m hoping that the OB he recommended is almost as good.
I managed to stumble out of the office and proceeded to burst into hyseterical sobs at the elevator. The kind of sobs where you can’t catch your breathe and someone needs to hold you up. Other people probably thought we just got the worst kind of news…not the best. And I continued to sob in the car. I guess it was part the immense sense of relief, part disbelief since I honestly never thought I would make it this far, part joy and excitement, and part being scared out of my mind.
I’m still kind of all over the place (in case you couldn’t tell). Thanks for all of your support and good wishes. And I know I’ve been really bad at commenting, but I promise I’m reading and keeping up with all of you! I’m hoping tomorrow gets me out of my own head…going with my soon to be sis-in-law for her first dress fitting. Hopefully we’ll be able to make a fun girls day out of it.
I am on a carb-fest, all carbs all the time. The thought of most proteins makes my gag reflex kick in. I’ve been feeling a little bad about it so I managed to shovel some eggs down my throat for breakfast and a few bites of chicken from the take-in thai for dinner tonight. Other than that, it’s been bagels, pasta, or rice.
Our next ultrasound is Friday. I should be 7w6d. I go back and forth between thinking I hope there’s still a heartbeat in there to getting all excited at the growth we’ll see from last weeks u/s. I’ve still got all those nasty first tri symptoms, so I should be optimistic. And I actually had my first sort of puke this morning. Not very pleasant. And my favorite black pants, the very last size 10 I could fit into this fall, the ones that always make me look skinny, could barely button yesterday. I should take that as another good sign, instead I blame it on the freakin carbs.
Work is kicking my butt this week, which I know isn’t helping my general funk. We’re brought in a bunch of new staff so I’m training from 8:30 until 4 each day. It is just exhausting. Plus, I then have the rest of my job to do once all that is over. I’ve been going to bed before 9 most nights. At least there’s no good tv on!
Off to scrounge up something bland and starchy to go stuff my face…
I know, I’ve been a very bad blogger. I keep coming up with all these great posts in my head at night and then by the time I can actually blog, they’re long gone and all that is left is this horrible cycle of “I’m excited, I’m scared, I’m excited, I’m scared”. Throw in a random “I think I’m gonna hurl” and you’ve pretty much summed things up for me.
I really hate that my blog has recently become a laundry list of everything I’ve been doing or that’s going on, so I’m trying to avoid that. And I hate that I feel stuck in this in-between land, still fighting all the demons of infertility while simultaneously feeling cramps, pangs, and all these other symptoms of this little thing growing inside of me. Don’t know how to avoid that though.
My cousin sent me a link for a sale at some maternity shop and asked if I had started shopping yet. Seriously!! After I composed myself, I wrote back joking that, at 7 weeks, I didn’t quite need that just yet. Apparently, at this point in her first pregnancy, she already had a small stash of maternity clothes, since it made sense to buy things on sale. Just crazy
Again, another nonsense post with no real direction, but that’s kind of how I feel lately. I’m going through each day without direction. I drag my tired butt out of bed each morning, stumble through work, then stumble my way to my private clients most nights, stumble home and go back to bed. I’m direction-less. I used to have direction and was highly motivated towards my goal. I was going to get pregnant. Every early morning as I dragged myself out of bed, I had a direction…going to the clinic at some pre-dawn hour to check on my progress. That’s what got me through everything else. Then at night, I had another direction, whether it be a pill or a shot. Now, no real direction. Doesn’t that seem crazy?!? I reached my destination. I should be happy, not wandering all over again like before I started treatments. Not sure how to find my new direction…any ideas from some of you ladies who made this trip already? There needs to be a mapquest for all this crap.
Ok enough of this. Want to say a quick thank you to the Order of the Plastic Ute (aka. the DC Bloggers) for a fantastic get together Saturday. Girls night in is one of my fave things…and this one was even better because I didn’t have to pretend to nurse a beer, dump it when no one is looking, then fill it with water. Pretty lame, I know
I still don’t know where to start when I sit down to write. I can tell you a few things though. Without a doubt, working a 15 hour day is NOT a good idea. Yesterday just about killed me. Oh, and the old saying ‘Never wake a sleeping baby’ also holds true for someone in her first trimester. My stupid (oops, I mean wonderful) husband keeps waking me up. He doesn’t want me to sleep too much. I’m about ready to kill him.
On to my mental health. I came to the realization Monday night, after staring at that little ultrasound picture but cautioning myself and not allowing myself not to think more than 1 week into the future, that I’m completely kidding myself. I’m certainly not protecting myself. If this whole thing heads south, there is no way on earth I could be prepared for it and I would most certainly be devastated. So…I decided to enjoy this and try to live my life like a regular pregnant (did you catch that….I said it) lady. I still know that we’ve got a long way to go, but one of the things the ultrasound tech said stuck with me. She kept pointing to the screen saying, “That’s your baby”. She did not say what was in my head, “That’s a random clump of cells that may or may not become a baby in 9 more months”. She simply said, “That’s your baby” with a huge smile on her face. There’s a big difference in those two sentences. I want to think positively. I’m currently more pregnant than I’ve ever been…and for all I know, this might be as much as I get. I’d much rather enjoy it, than be miserable.
Of course I say enjoy it, and I am, for the most part. Thing is, all day long, I’m really afraid that every time I open my mouth, copious amounts of vomit will spew forth. Now I’m not typically a puker…and I’m really hoping I don’t become one. But pretty much all day long, I feel like I’m about to. It’s much worse in the morning and at night. Mid day is when I get down right ravenous, eating one lunch around 11 and another at 1. I’m just crossing my fingers that it means the little heart is still beating.
Ok, enough rambling. Maybe someday I will put together a coherent post. Now it’s back to bed for some DVR
Alternatively titled: Ignorance would be bliss.
This is yet another thing infertility has taken away from me. If this was November 2005, I would have peed on those sticks and been pregnant. I’d just be pregnant. And excited beyond belief. None of this beta or cautiously optimistic crap. Although I’d probably be complaining about the sore boobs, headache, and nausea while now I’m psyched about them. (I felt really sick eating dinner about an hour ago and was actually disappointed that I didn’t throw up….that’s pretty messed up).
I know that this is completely out of my control and is a complete miracle. So why do I feel like I’m on a teeter totter…going back and forth between being excited, thinking “right at this moment in time, I’m pregnant and that is amazing” to already starting the grieving process, thinking “there is no point getting excited about this because in 3 days I’m going to find out this was just a chemical pregnancy”. I do know that I need to protect myself. I guess, I wish I didn’t know that I needed to protect myself. Because I’m not doing a good job of that, of being protective. With each cramp or wave of nausea, I say hi to my little poppy seed and thank God that it’s there. I’m already starting to imagine the next few months (and years for that matter). And yes, I’m saying “if this sticks, ….” but that doesn’t mean that I’m not planning for the future. And this could all be some huge cosmic joke. Maybe I royally fucked someone over in a past life and now they’re getting even with me. Because this wasn’t supposed to happen. And now that it has, those big thick walls I’ve put up around my heart and soul are slowly fading.
So ultimately, I know enough to realize that this has a much higher likelihood of NOT working, but it’s not my brain that is making all these decisions. I’m just praying to pretty much every higher power out there….surely one of them will come through for us, right?? I’m not asking for a second miracle, just that this one continues….until mid July or so.
While you’re here, please go vote for Mel from Stirrup Queens. She is such an amazing support and we’re lucky to have her in our community. Vote for Stirrup Queens for Best Medical/Health Issues blog (you can vote once a day)
The picture didn’t come out too great. But the bottom one says it all! Holy shit is all I can come up with. I don’t know how to be pregnant. Infertile, I’ve really excelled at that over the last 2 years.
Still going to go in for a beta this morning, I’ll just feel better having it. Since I’m not too sure when I actually O’d, I have no idea how far along I am. Somewhere between 4 and 5 weeks I’m guessing.
I now have to sit through a 2 day workshop on analyzing aggressive and self-injurious behavior. Not really a topic that is going to match my perma-grin.
Thank you all for your good wishes and thoughts yesterday (and for helping to keep me sane). I’ll update later tonight if I have any new info.