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wave back!

January 25, 2010 by mydiybaby

I just found my way into my second trimester – looking forward to the fabled Best Few Months of Pregnancy. Meanwhile I’m dutifully replacing that hormonal nausea with a new, abstract, mental kind: Searching For Child Care. I know, it’s early. But it’s also late to bring some clarity to the topic for myself. I tried to think about the monumental cost a year or so ago and it sent me into a Relationship Seeking Relapse, completely out of fear. Oops, sorry, I told him. So I retracted my panic and let the guy go and went on my merry way concentrating on getting pregnant, pushing the inevitable out of my mind. Then, about two days after getting pregnant it was on my mind again. How exactly do people pay for this?

That’s still a good question. I’m going to ask a financial adviser this week because I’m pretty sure I have an insoluble puzzle for her and that’s got to be worth whatever it’s going to cost to have her comb through my stuff.

Anyway, enough about that for now.

Here’s better news: I decided to do the screening, the non-diagnostic sifting through my blood looking for statistics, that thing they do to find out how likely it is that the little one (currently the size of a “medium shrimp” says babycenter) is unwell. Stats are extremely good! Yay, the kid knows what it’s doing!

The best part, of course, is getting to commune on TV at the doctor’s office. It’s like Skype for the prenatal set. The ultrasound is probably what most convinced me to do the screening, otherwise we wouldn’t get to make virtual eye contact for another two months! I’ve had at least half a dozen ultrasounds over the past year, so I think I know what’s coming. Vague black spheres and grey cloudy stuff. Mmm-hmm, I’m an expert now.

Until suddenly this little PERSON shows up in the picture:

a little wave

Fingers and everything, look at that coordinated little parade float wave!! That, apparently, is INSIDE my abdomen. I wasn’t expecting that. There’s something about the first trimester of pregnancy that makes you – okay, I’ll speak for myself – I feel like I’m making it up. I’ve never been pregnant, so as far as I know it’s a sort of conceptual state. Nausea isn’t a convincing sign, albeit comforting when I needed some form of external proof. I’m delighting in letting people know, mid-conversation, that there are actually three people sitting at this table. No, seriously. I’m hiding the other one. Really really well.

Apparently we’re now week 13, full of organs and neat-o translucent skin, so the hard part of getting the system configured is over. I say “we” as though I had anything to do with this. Obviously this little thing – which I remind myself frequently is actually younger than an infant – knows what it’s doing. I’m just the container. Which is fun to contemplate. And then sometimes I take some serious credit: Hey, I’m making a whole person over here! I guess I like the extremes.

It was bouncing on its back the whole time, waving those arms around in the air – or water or whatever. Which leads me to constantly wonder if it likes what I’m eating/ listening to/ saying to my cat… Looking forward to the part where we get to communicate more directly. Even a kick or two would be very enlightening right now.

Oh, and by the way, the sense that I’m just inexplicably gaining weight is starting to dim. That’s another weird symptom of the first few months while I’m wondering if I’m actually pregnant and wanting proof but not believing the proof I’m getting. But hey, I’ve never had to do this with my pants before. Ever.

office innovation

So that counts as a Real Change. I’m keeping track of those. Also learning how to buy maternity clothes, which are sort of counter-intuitive. I said to the woman at the consignment store today that I wasn’t sure I could get used to buying pants with elastic. She disagreed vehemently, saying the hardest part is giving them up. Well, after a trip to the dressing room, I was heartily agreeing. Wow, why can’t I be this comfortable all the time?? What’s with the pants that constantly bite into your gut!? Elastic it is.

And on the preparation front, I wrote a will, upped my life insurance significantly, and changed my health benefits. Time for a nap. And another banana smoothie.

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the reassuring heartbeat and where not to go for advice

January 7, 2010 by mydiybaby

I’m dividing my time between the OB That’s Not Keen on Home Birth and the Midwife That Is (of course). Had a session at home with the midwife right after returning from a parental visit, discussed nutrition, including my Sudden Disdain For Protein and my Heightened Enthusiasm For Dairy. I’m also mildly stunned that I’m still turning up my nose against winter squash, which I was sure I’d never get enough of when I discovered it at the farmer’s market this fall. I’m now counting diligently and daily how much of each food group I’m getting, which feels like an eating disorder of some kind. I’ve never thought about food so much or so constantly, but the nausea seems to require ongoing intake of something.

That was it for the midwife for another month, so then I went to see the OB. It’s feeling redundant, actually, they use the same tools and ask similar questions at this point. But the OB gets a gold star for finding the baby’s heartbeat this time. It feels like they’re tapping into my inner Darth Vader with the probe on my belly: whooosh whooosh thud… thud… whooosh thud (that’s your heartbeat, they clarify needlessly) and then this sudden whup!whup!whup!whup!whup!whup!whup!whup!whup!whup! – there it is! She guesses it’s about 160 – 170 beats a minute, she’s that good. I’m impressed. And though it’s a small thing and I’m not overly sentimental, I find myself thinking of how sturdy it sounded.

Next I get to decide if I’m doing the blood screening to find out if it’s defective. It doesn’t sound defective to me. But maybe more information is a good thing. I don’t know. If I do it, it won’t be because there’s anything wrong with this kid.

Around the edges I’m reading a ton, as usual. The Philosophical Baby, The Mayo Clinic Guide to Pregnancy, Active Birth, anything by Ina May Gaskin, and Journey Into Motherhood are my tops lately.

And then there’s this. An astonishing find, it was my grandmother’s in 1947 and earnestly promises to help by answering the questions we women have that doctors just don’t have time to answer because so very many babies are being born right this instant. The nutritional advice is actually quite sound and familiar, and while the actions of hormones are considered mysterious (hormones aren’t mentioned once, so I’m guessing they weren’t discovered yet), they have a pretty good sense of how gestation goes. So that hasn’t changed. Here’s a novel bit: it also suggests I should cut down smoking to one pack a day, but that if quitting entirely would make me a shrew, then that’s not recommended. Oh here, I won’t paraphrase… “If you have been used to smoking considerably more than [moderately - say 10 cigarettes a day], by no means try to give them up in pregnancy. There is no surer way of upsetting the nerves at a period when you should be calm and happy, or of converting a placid, sweet-tempered girl into an intolerable shrew.“

Just goes to show you, take all advice with a grain of salt… or a cigarette, by golly, if it keeps you sweet.

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the kumquat dips and rolls

December 28, 2009 by mydiybaby

Seems we’ve reached kumquat stage… a milestone of sorts, 9 weeks!

I’m still at the parental home for the holidays, where the Impending Grandparentalism is seeping into my parents in pretty good ways. They’ve known as long as any of you, of course, but it’s different when I’m really here.

I tried to find a book for grandparents before I came, a version of celebration for under the tree, but everything I came across on my brief search seemed dumb. Anyway, Mom beat me to it. Who would have thought that a 2-ton compendium of Calvin and Hobbes cartoons would be the ideal prep for a Pending Grandpa? He’s rolling around laughing every evening, mimicking Calvin in the grocery store, Calvin freaking out at his dad’s disembodied hand, and insinuating that this is going to be fun and hilarious… and a handful. Hey, whatever it takes.

Meanwhile, I’m getting bona fide morning sickness. Dizzy weary sudden onsets of Extreme Hunger followed by Extreme Thirst, or vice versa, and seasick first thing in the morning. Apparently this is a good sign while my body is growing an extra internal organ to support the little alien. I asked my grandma how she did this eight times. She hasn’t the foggiest idea.

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resurrecting ghosts of puberty past

December 17, 2009 by mydiybaby

I’ve been hanging around on some of the popular pregnancy discussion boards lately. It wrings the magic right out of things, I’m not sure why I go there. I get sucked in while trying to fill in the gaps, unsettled that another woman will ponder whether she can eat honey for another worried minute if I don’t dive in and reassure her that my midwife says it’s okay.

Yes, I have a midwife! I’ve been having scattered, distracted conversations with two of them, interspersed with hacking coughs (the Cold That Never Saw Robitussen hangs on) and finally scheduled an interview for this afternoon with the one I was enjoying a little more. Turns out she’s been practicing for over two decades, attended over 1000 births, and was called to do this via a Vision Quest in the desert. Yeah. They don’t come much purer.

She also carries two oxygen tanks with her to the births, is up on her neonatal resuscitation, engages in peer review, is state and nationally certified, and has performed only two episiotomies. Two. The list of her bad-assedness goes on. So she’s woo-woo + phd, and distinctively qualified to help me achieve my goal of Redirecting This Massive Intertia of Intellectualism that I gather is not going to even begin to know how to grok this Exceedingly Physical Endeavor. Not to mention the emotions.

Have I mentioned the sudden onslaughts of tears? And the physical changes. This is where I’m already beyond needing to be convinced that my intellect has nothing useful to offer. Stuffed with book knowledge, it’s nodding in agreement (while consulting the Mayo Clinic Guide) that, yes, “stimulated by increased production of estrogen and progesterone” there will be a few physical changes. But that doesn’t begin to scratch the emotional surface of this reality: I’m going through puberty again. These awkward questions of my basic shape were solved so long ago, I thought. A new old dialogue is going on, re-opened in a way I never would have suspected possible. But hey, this is what I’m signing up for… a transformation. And I am getting my alertness on for every moment of this one.

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the lentil flickers

December 8, 2009 by mydiybaby

I went into the fertility clinic this afternoon during a spell of hail, rare in these parts. Lying on the table waiting for the doctor’s infectious energy to disperse my anxiety, wondering what the ultrasound would say. I have a good feeling about this one, but that intuition pales in comparison with Actual Information and some was about to be leaked.

The doctor springs into the room and with a handshake, we begin. First, I have to point out my bladder, just to prove that I’ve been paying attention (yes, I recognize my organs on TV now). We move on to the uterine lining (progesterone doing its job – check), inspect the ovaries (are we drawing this out on purpose??) and indeed, the monstrous follicle that was hanging out there for a while has gone…

The uterus. A black circle of amniotic fluid. A yolk sack. And there in the middle, a little flickering thing. The heart beating… I’m astonished we can see it already, just 6 weeks along, or 4 if you count actual weeks like someone who uses a calendar. He measures everything, gets the little guy in his scope and the machine actually amplifies the heartbeat, humming away. I think it’s mine, I can hardly believe we can detect it at this stage. Wow. Actual Information is right.

Meanwhile, its little cohort (um… twins?) is on its way to being reabsorbed. It’s extremely tiny, just the footprint of an amniotic sac, nothing more. This apparently explains the high HCG number. Though I’m going to continue to ascribe it to Embryo #1’s brilliance and intestinal fortitude.

Onward to the OB and my H1N1 shot (all the doctors said yes, unequivocally) and a retinue of blood work on its way, endless options for tests. And in the back of my mind, weighing the options, I’ll be carving my way through for a balance of science and magic. This is going to be an astonishing ride.

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wing buds

December 4, 2009 by mydiybaby

I’m home sick today with a nasty cough I should have spared my coworkers from yesterday. Hopefully their immune systems aren’t taking a vacation, as mine apparently is.

Can I blame the pregnancy for my crying jag at work yesterday morning, or would that be the I’m Sick And Feeling Oh So Sorry For Myself weepiness? No idea. I’ve never been good at measuring symptoms, seems I can talk my way out of anything.

Today I’m wondering if my breasts are sore enough for me to even be pregnant. Being sick has drowned out the other symptoms effectively, since coughing is much more dramatic than a mild uterine twinge. The Handy Internet comes to the rescue and assures me that my breasts can do whatever they please. Wouldn’t be the first time they confounded my expectations.

Meanwhile, it seems the multi-celled organism is just miniscule. It’s no surprise I can’t feel that. It’s thinking about arms and legs, eyes and a tongue, apparently. So I thought maybe I was having morning sickness sort of nausea on Tuesday but again, it could have been the cold. Or my Extremely Powerful Psychosomatic Force Field. One or the other.

So I got my hands on an H1N1 injection, am scheduled for next Monday afternoon. I’ll be just starting my 7th week – usually they do it at 10 (vulnerable organ development period ends around then) – but it takes about a week to take effect and then I’m scheduled to be on a 6 hour flight across the country. I’m getting conflicting advice on this one. Should I do it?

Would you?

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my (extremely) little overachiever

November 25, 2009 by mydiybaby

I realize it’s a little early for me to be proud of my multi-celled offspring, but it seems I’ve got a real overachiever here. We’re going to have to have a heart-to-heart about work/life balance.

Had my first blood draw today, ordered by the fertility clinic, so the nurse calls me this afternoon saying, “We like to see a number over 50.” She pauses. “Yours was 594.”

Um. That’s over 50. Good? (I ask this instead of wondering what exactly we’re measuring)

“Yes, and we want to see that double.”

Okay, we’ll get right on that.

 

And one more test on Thursday before getting the bird started, and then we can start making predictions. Of course I’ve already mapped everything out on my calendar, looks like week 40 is end of July… and yes, it’s actually happening!

Meanwhile, you could possibly be wondering about symptoms… I don’t know if I mentioned this, but for a week or so before testing I occasionally felt a bit of a Uterine Twinge. Yes, very technical, I know. Not exactly a cramp, not just a hello. Enough that I noticed it. Rumbling perhaps. That, instead of sore breasts or anything else you read about, so I didn’t assume much. Also I’ve been hungry, thirsty, and tired. But what else is new??

I was woozy in the grocery store and demanded a drink (organic, thank you) from D while I was standing in line. Yes, apparently the demands start now. Oh so lucky to have indulgent friends! Thanks, by the way, for all the love and support. It’s better than any birthday I’ve ever had (except for maybe that 16th surprise party, but honestly, that kinda freaked me out).

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!!!

November 22, 2009 by mydiybaby

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i’m going with “maybe”

November 21, 2009 by mydiybaby

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recent events

November 15, 2009 by mydiybaby

I think I’m actually getting good at this. If Trying To Get Pregnant is an acquired skill, then I’ve acquired it… the Trying part, that is.

This month, I’m not even thinking about it, really. I have an odd sort of confidence that if it doesn’t work this time, it will next time.

Getting that HSG test helped – seeing through the x-ray that the equipment is in there and that it has all the right connections and whatnot… even if it is a little squished to one side, I’m not complaining.

Oh, and I made the brilliant adjustment (why didn’t I think of this sooner?!) of picking up the sperm on the other side of the bridge a few weeks before my insemination, so I wouldn’t have to do it all in one week, racing around between an ultrasound and an IUI appointment. Lots of altered variables to shake it up this time around. My tubes have been roto-rootered. My letrozole dose is a little higher this month, and I have a new donor, whose attributes I’m not even stressing over. Frankly, I can’t remember what they are. The girl at the sperm bank thinks I’d like him and the guys at the lab where he donates think he’s the bomb. Good enough.

Oh, so the other change was an HCG shot – which means a tummy injection the night before the IUI to help with timing ovulation. I received the package via FedEx on Halloween morning, a huge box containing a wad of alcohol wipes, a boxy sharps container, and a silver bag with two ice packs containing my small syringe. Refrigerate immediately. So I did, and didn’t worry about it too much. I thought. Meanwhile, I had friends lined up to help me in case it got scary.

The night of the injection I was watching TV with D, paused the disk at 10pm and said, it’s time. So I sat on the bed with a bit of tummy pinched and let her prep the needle, then proceeded to melt into a weird infantile regression, laughing while tears streamed down my cheeks, wrestling freakishly with the anticipation. D waited patiently, needle held aloft. I finally let her do it and of course it didn’t hurt. At all. But I had to hide my face behind a pillow and mumble “are you done are you done are you done” until it was over. In my defense, I’m sure something about a needle to the stomach is simply counter-intuitive.

Anyway, there are wonderful brave women all over youtube demonstrating how to do this (without dramatic grinning tears), so if you want a good teacher for your own sub-dermal injection, that’s where they are.

Meanwhile, I won’t know if I’m pregnant or simply having another round of boning up on my Trying skills until next weekend…

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