mystery uterus

Somebody Get Me A Sono

I'm a bad blogger. Bad bad! I should update more. But work has been overwhelming the last few days. Plus I haven't had much to say. I don't even know what I'm feeling most of the time, so it would be quite a trick writing about it.

I might delete the paint thinner post. Just seeing it freaks me the fuck out. That whole episode knocked me sideways. I was so upset and worried. I've calmed down, partly because the fly-tying operations are being moved to another building, and now am just middling anxious pretty much all of the time.

I'm pretty tired but not distressingly so. Boobs don't hurt much anymore. If I don't eat for a while, I want to eat anything I can get my hands on but am simultaneously vaguely retchy. A nice combination. So, you see, the symptoms aren't overwhelming. I don't feel really really truly pregnant. It's so hard to stay positive when there's no way of knowing how things are going in there.

I've been released to my OB-GYN, and I see her on Monday. She better do another sono or I will kick somebody's ass. I need reassurance here.

Anxious

Kate and Adam are here! They're here! A big yummy welcome to Tertia's new arrivals. I am beyond happy for her. Reading Tertia's blog over the last few months has been inspiring for lots of reasons. One is that Tertia was always so honest about her fears as well as her joys during her pregnancy. So, with that model in mind, I am going to confess to you that I am a pretty anxious pregnant woman. I am very happy, of course, a kind of saturated happiness that is still mixed with sweet disbelief that this is actually happening.

But I am also nervous. Too much so, my husband says. In fact, my worries about the sprite prompted huge fireworks the other night, a fight that really ranked right up there for us. And the funny thing is, he doesn't even know the half of it. I don't even talk to him about many of the things I worry about, and still he thinks I'm going overboard.

The whole thing was prompted by a very smelly accident. In his spare time, my husband makes these little fake flies for fishing. They look a lot like real flies and other bugs that fish like to eat, even though they're made out of the strangest things (like pieces of deer hair and glitter). He likes to make them while watching TV. What I've never realized is that he has to use a little glue and paint thinner to put these things together.

So yesterday morning, I opened the door to the TV room - where my husband was comfortably watching the news - and was blown back by a hugely obnoxious and obviously toxic smell. Turns out that the little jar of paint thinner had spilled and leaked all over the drawer where he keeps this stuff. He hadn't even smelled it, which I think is amazing. Now, I've never received any formal medical training, but I'm pretty sure that pregnant women aren't supposed to breathe in the fumes from paint thinner. So I made myself scarce while he cleaned it up.

A few minutes later, I went to the kitchen as I was getting ready to leave for work, and the kitchen reeks of the thinner. He had taken the drawer into the kitchen to clean it, but it still smelled like holy hell. Since he hadn't even smelled the stuff before, I was worried that he might not even realize that the kitchen still needed to be sterilized, so to speak. I quickly went back to ask him to make sure it was all cleaned up, and then had to go back through the kitchen to leave the house. By this point, I was highly agitated, because 1. he had been using paint thinner in the house at all 2. he hadn't even noticed a smell that was clearly BAD 3. his efforts to clean it up had only expanded the number of rooms filled with the fumes, including the room that I had to navigate in order to leave the house to get away from the smell! and 4. I was scared.

I would say that, all told, I probably breathed the paint thinner fumes for maybe 30 seconds, a minute tops. Not much, really, but enough so that my entire day was spent worrying about the implications of this exposure. I just finished my 7th week, a crucial time for the developing fetus right? A time when one should probably not be smelling paint thinner, even for a little while. I can't help but worry I may have hurt the sprite. I've tried to read about exposure to solvents online, but it looks like the only studies address occupational exposure, not this kind of incidental, accidental event.

So, I told my husband last night that I was still worried about it, and he flew off the handle, accusing me of being overly anxious and obsessed. To which I could only reply, it was paint thinner! How the hell could I not be worried, for chrissakes? Does he really expect me to blithely skip along, sure in the knowledge that everything is just hunky dory? Hey, maybe I'll go breathe in some pesticide today just to make things more interesting! And that's where the fight started, and it eventually ended, but it was long and complicated, and maybe I'll tell you more about it later.

I don't think I'm being hysterical or overly concerned, but what do you think? From a psychological point of view, when does normal concern become abnormal anxiety? From a medical point of view, what are the dangers of this kind of incidental exposure? Come to my rescue, internet, I need some help here.

Snoozapalooza

I am desperately, desperately tired. All the time. It's really rather amazing. When I'm not pregnant, I'm one of those annoying people who jumps out of bed in the morning fully awake (whereas it takes the husband a good hour to come to his senses after he wakes up). I never nap. I hate naps. They make me feel dopey and sick, and I normally take about one nap a year. Maybe less. I go to bed around 11 or 12, fall asleep quickly, and the whole thing starts over the next day.

Until now. Fatigue seems to be my primary symptom. I wake up slowly and crankily, feeling vaguely nauseous (but not quite, so, nausisch?), and have a few good hours until I feel my body and mind crawling into a pit of deep warm water, tempting me, beckoning me, sleeep, sleeep, you know you want it. And before you know it, if I've managed to hold out til late afternoon, I've collapsed into a napping heap. Then by 9:00 or maybe 10:00, I am so ditheringly tired I can hardly speak, and I stumble to bed muttering a bleary good-night to my wide-awake husband.

But the kicker is that once I get to bed, I can't fall asleep! I toss and turn and try a million relaxation techniques and then worry about all the things I have to do the next day and then maybe, after two hours or so, I finally fall asleep. Only to wake up three or four hours later, and an hour after that, and after that, and ... well, you get the picture. And this nightly joust with insomnia happens even when I haven't napped. I thought the naps might be hurting the cause, and so valiantly went nap-less a few days to test my theory, but still I couldn't fall asleep without a struggle when I went to bed.

The moral of the story? I'm tired, people. But happy to be so. I imagine the sprite gathering all the little energy molecules in my body, and I am only too happy to give them all away. The little critter needs them, and that's alright with me. Still, it's kind of weird to be held hostage to my fatigue like this. It makes work pretty damn hard, and nothing else gets done. I can't keep my eyes open and my body standing long enough to do anything like cook dinner. A herculean feat.

It occurs to me that perhaps this overwhelming fatigue is sort of motherhood on training wheels. The first sense of how my days will be usurped by a child who needs lots from me. More perhaps than I ever thought I could give. Where I turn the hours of my day and the very cells of my body over to the exhausting demands of a tiny, lovely little thing. As I've mentioned before, I'm a bit of a control freak. I like to take the reigns of my life and ride a strong course. Determined by me me me. To begin to lose that control, to feel my body involuntarily turned onto the path determined by a willful (she's already a stubborn little thing) small creature, is a novel experience. A challenging one. A welcome one. A first lesson in liberation and love. And ...

*snoOOOOOOre*

...oops, sorry dropped off there for a moment. 10:00, time to haul myself off to bed. Night, friends.

Grrrrr

I've been trying to upload an image of yesterday's sono, as the ever lovely eM requested, but keep getting the message from Typepad that "your file is not an image." So what is it, a duck? A boat? A book? Glass of milk? Hot air balloon? If it's not an image, then I'd like to know exactly what it is.

Has anyone experienced this before? Got any tips?

Happy New Year!

The number of fatalities from the tsunami steadily increases, to a magnitude that I can hardly imagine. The tragedy that is unfolding miles away from here is so horrible and unfair. So it makes me a bit uncomfortable to relay good news in the midst of such devastation, to feel such sunny relief when others are in so much pain, but I hope you'll understand how I can be this happy when I tell you that,

WE SAW A HEARTBEAT!

A heartbeat, a heartbeat, a heartbeat. A tiny, flickering, steady beacon of hope, trapped in a computer screen. That the little bundle of life we saw on the monitor this morning actually lives in my belly is hard to believe. What a strange and wonderful sight.

Dr. Charmin printed out an image of the sonogram, (which I pinned to the refrigerator as soon as I got home), and released me to my OB-GYN. In her words, "you've graduated." Can you believe it? I hardly can.

Oh, and as I'm sure you've figured out, we're having one. A singleton. A lovely, single fetus, snuggled away in my very own uterus. Who would have thunk it? A happy new year indeed.

Still Pregnant

I have been told that if I disappear and give no pregnancy updates, I am an asshole. (You know who you are!)  Point taken, friends.

So here I am, to tell you of my week. It has been glorious, in all truth. Last Friday's numbers were oh so good: 24,401 hCG and 96 prog. Beauteous. I've felt crappy every since my family arrived, which of course has been a source of constant comfort. Every time a hug made my breasts sing in pain, every time I could hardly choke down food 'cause of a severely sour stomach, was a much loved feather in my pregnancy cap.

My parents were delirious. Whenever my father entered or left the house, he would lean down and say hello or goodbye to my stomach. Very cute. My mother was constantly telling me to take it easy and rest. Which, I have to say, was hardly a matter of choice. Good grief, the fatigue! I knew it was normal to be tired, but I hadn't expected to fall into a deep coma every afternoon around 4:00, and to spend the rest of the day in a semi-alert state of half-sleep. It's a good thing everybody was excited about the sprite. It gave them plenty to talk about, while I sat and stared stupidly at the wall. I've been so tired I've had basically nothing to contribute, except to tiredly smile and nod when somebody made a joke or told a good story. I'm a thrill a minute.

Of course, it wouldn't be an infertility pregnancy without anxiety and cautious expectation Today I am feeling very very nervous. I woke up feeling way too good. My nausea hasn't been all that bad, really, but today it was basically gone. My boobs are only a little sore, and I'm not tired. And lunch went down way too easy. After days of forcing myself to eat because food just tastes wrong, I scarfed down my meal and licked my chops. Bad, very bad. Why don't I feel worse? And to top it all off, a little while ago I had a few small cramps, which I haven't had in over a week.

Very nervous. I dread a miscarriage, and I fear the missed abortion most of all. The thought of my sprite lying listless, already dead and me not even knowing ... shudder. I know I shouldn't think these things. I know I should be positive about this pregnancy and thankful that I've come this far. But today, I'm not really feeling that way.

We have an appointment for our first sono on Monday, where we should hopefully hear the heartbeat and find out how many embryos are hatching in there. Hearing a heartbeat will make me feel much better, I think. That will be a great great day.

5w3d

What shall I say? How incredibly happy I am? How I look down at my stomach and wonder what the sprite is doing in there? How I try to envision the dimensions of an apple seed? How I nearly cry in terror every few days when I think I've done something to endanger it? How my fumbling fright comingles with continuing, gleeful shock that we've actually managed to do this? How every day looks different now, filled with cautious light rather than the darkening despair of the last few months? How I feel deliciously, unnervingly, undeservedly lucky?

Yes, let's talk about that last one. I feel so lucky. Why me? When so many others are still struggling? Why not me, I suppose, but still. There's hardly any logic or fairness to all of this, is there? Somehow, luck touched us, and I certainly hope it stays. I've never wished for anything harder. Yet I do feel sad and a bit, I don't know, sheepish? It's keeping me from posting, and from commenting much on other blogs. I remember other newly pregnant infertiles expressing similar sentiments, and I remember thinking that of course they should continue to write about their experiences and make comments in the blogs of those of us still trying. But I would be lying if I didn't confess that I also usually felt a pang of envy as I watched their pregnancies unfold. Just a touch, though. Mostly I would continue to check in on them, wanting to make sure that nothing bad had happened yet, that the stars still shone for them, that it hadn't gone dark. And it would make me genuinely glad, despite my wistful jealously, when all was right and gestational sacs were seen and heartbeats were heard and first trimesters were completed safely.

So here I am, one of them. At least for now anyway. It's hard to believe, and yet I do believe it. Oh yes, I believe it and I breathe it in as deep as I can. Even though I know it's still very early, and plenty could go wrong. We haven't even heard a hearbeat yet. But even this tenuous good fortune is making me a bit tongue-tied and careful about what I should or want to post.

My family arrives for the holidays tomorrow, and I'm sure I'll be swimming in stockings and cookies and good cheer. It is a wonderful Christmas this year in the lobster household. So I'll be taking a little time-out from my blog during the festivities. That will give me time to think about what happens to an infertile blog when it becomes an early pregnancy blog. And hopefully, the next time you hear from me, everything will still be okay with our little sprite. In the mean time, big sloppy blessings on all of you. *Smooch*

A Beautiful Number

Hwwaahhhaaaaahhhh.....

That's the sound of me breathing a HUGE sigh of relief. My hCG levels today are 2,557, which according to this site means a doubling time of 34.6 hours. When I got off the phone with J., my nurse, I literally hollered out loud with joy and then started crying. I was so nervous, and I am so so relieved and happy to hear these numbers.

That's all the good news I needed, but on top of that, my progesterone is 86. So I've been instructed to go off the progesterone suppositories. Off the progesterone suppositories! Now, these have become such a familiar part of my routine, it seems weird to just stop them altogether. Makes me a little nervous. But mostly I'm really glad that my body seems to be producing enough of the stuff on its own. That's an unexpected but lovely turn of events.

Next blood draw: Christmas Eve. I can wait. For the moment, this is all I need. I am so happy.

Happy Anxiety

I've had regular menstrual-like cramps since Friday, which I have to say is a strange experience. They produce a very Pavlovian effect in me. (*rrrruff!*) I feel the cramps, and I think "okay, this feels normal, i'm about to get my period." And then I remember that, no, these cramps are different. My head knows that, but really, they feel very very similar. How strange. I love them, though, because they reassure me that I'm still pregnant.

On the other hand, today my boobs aren't nearly as sore as they've been the last few days. I keep pummeling them to see if they're tender. I'm a self-abuser. (Not in that way, you perves. Okay, some times in that way.) So today's diminishing soreness has of course thrown me off my "be happy, stay positive, don't worry" course. Does breast tenderness come and go? Is that normal? Now I'm wondering how in the world I will last until Friday. And what if Friday's numbers aren't good? Terrible. Can't think about that.

How do people do this? How do they survive the first few weeks? the first few days?? I'm really so excited, and relieved, and amazed that this has happened. I want to just enjoy it.  I've never miscarried (obviously, since I've never been pregnant), so there's no reason to believe I have more of a chance of miscarrying than anyone else. And during the long months and months of trying, I told myself that if I ever got pregnant, I would do my best to relish every moment without getting tripped up by neurotic anxiety. And so far, I'm sort of doing that, but I also worry. I can't help it.

Wow, this is harder than I thought it would be. I really believed that if I managed to get knocked up, I would be so grateful and happy, tripping gaily along in googly wonder at my good fortune, that my joy would drown out any other worries. Guess that was pretty naive. I'm full of hope and happiness, but there's a pretty strong undercurrent of fear too.

About 72 hours 'til my next beta levels come in. Tick tock tick tock.

Right Now

Thank you so much everyone for the kind words and congratulations. It means so much to me, I can't tell you. I really don't know how I would have survived the last few months without you, and I'm so happy you're with me at the beginning of what I hope will be a long and safe journey.

Last night was thrilling and almost unreal. My husband and I were so happy, and we decided to call our families right away. My dad was so happily surprised, my mom practically hyperventilated, and my brother cried. I love my family. I also told a couple of close friends, who knew how long we'd been trying. It was lovely to hear them express unrestrained congratulations. I was already worried about something going wrong, but they weren't, and that was really nice. Felt like oxygen.

Telling this close circle did make me a little nervous. What if something happens now, I thought? It seems like tempting fate to be even that open about our good news. But today, I'm feeling pretty ecstatic. I know I need to be cautious, and as a committed member of the infertile blogosphere, I know only too well what can go wrong. But honestly, right now, anxiety is taking up a really small part of my head. Mostly I am relieved and full of joy. Real heart-bending joy.

I don't have another beta until Friday!! I can't believe they're waiting so long. So I can't really worry about the rate of increase until then, which means I'm gonna do my best to enjoy this week. I'm pregnant. I've never been able to say that before. I was starting to worry I never would. I'm just gonna enjoy saying that to myself for the next few days, and take it from there.